Summary: When you fall during a shift, you're desperate to prove that you can still be a doctor, even if you're in tremendous pain. Jack Abbot is the only one who understands.
Pairing: Jack Abbot x fem!resident!reader
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings/tags: reader with chronic pain and a subsequent fall/injury. reader is described as younger than robby, dana, and jack. mentions of period and weight and dumbass doctors (not in the pitt). robby being tough. discussions of losing use of legs, walking, movement. reader and abbot commiserating over their movement problems and jack losing his leg. jack being a sweetheart <3
sooo this is based on my experience of pain and so obviously it won't apply to everyone, but i tried to keep it somewhat vague.
You honestly don't expect the fall.
You are in so much pain, more pain than you've been in in a while. You save your body for work; you don't hike, don't stand at concerts, don't dance at clubs. If you do, your body will scream at you, punish you for wanting to live like everyone else.
And being a doctor is more important than anything else you can do with your body. It's the only thing that matters right now because you've invested so much time into it. It was your dream, even when your friend quietly asked, all those years ago, if you'd be up for standing and being on your feet twelve to fourteen hours a day. Sometimes sixteen.
You were so unfairly angry at her for asking the question. For forcing you to stop and think about your body's limits, how present they were even then, when you were freshly drinking age and should've, by all accounts, been able to take advantage of how quickly a young body can bounce back.
But you've never been able to bounce back. You suffer regardless of what you're doing. But you wanted to be a doctor. You'll hurt no matter what.
But you can concede now, thirteen hours into your shift, that it's probably scary to see someone your age fall over nothing. You truly don't mean to fall—no one ever does. You have your compression socks on, and you'd tied your sneakers extra tight, and maybe that's what did it, you don't know. Usually, after three hours, the pain evens out and becomes a sharp, constant pinch in your legs and shoulders. The ER moves so fast and the pain doesn't go away, no, but you get distracted. And some days, the pain turns numb, and the numbness is worse, because you can't rely on what you can't feel.
That is what happened now, you realize, as you stare at the white and blue speckled floor. The ER floor always reminded you of an Easter egg. This close, you can see the crust of dirt that won't come off no matter how many times the custodians clean. You'd hate to find out what else sticks to the floor.
Your palms burn, your arms ache from the impact, and your knees are indignant about moving. Someone picks you up from the floor, hands under your arms.
"I'm fine," you say, even though the pain has wrung your personality out of your body. You're not yourself when you're in this much pain; you're just a body, a pile of limbs, desperately trying to figure out how to keep moving them in a way that won't tip anyone off to how much pain you live in.
"Hey, hey. You alright?" Dana asks as she hoists you up, stronger than she looks. You've seen her throw a punch; you'd hate to face her in a dark alley.
"I tripped," you say automatically. "I'm fine." You laugh because it really is stupid that you fell from nothing. But Dana won't find it funny, so you have to lie a little.
It's not working. You can see that in the way her brows pinch as she reads your face, finds things you didn't know you were revealing.
And then Robby appears next to her, and it all really goes to shit from there.
"What happened?" he asks, sharp brown eyes taking in your body language and Dana's.
"She fell," Dana says before you can lie again.
The problem with people caring about you is that it can be used against you. Robby knows exactly what it means that you fell. He'd wrestled it out of you one night months ago when you'd almost collapsed from dehydration. Robby had all the grace of a steamroller when he interrogated you about your pain. The truth had come out in a desperate attempt to stop the humiliation of someone witnessing how broken your body is.
"I didn't—"
"Staff room, now." Robby's shaking his head and waving his hands before you can speak. "You're done. Sit the rest of the shift out."
"That's not fair!" you say, even though your body rejoices at the prospect of sitting for an hour. You would've killed a man six hours ago to be able to sit for a minute.
Robby's face clouds over, just a little. He's been sharper lately, less gentle and more efficient. He doesn’t have it in him to temper his thorny kindness; he acts on instinct, gives orders he knows to be right, and moves on.
"I can finish my shift," you say, fear climbing your throat like acid at what the other staff will think. An hour is a long time for a doctor to be off during their shift. If anyone else close to your age had fallen—Whitaker, Mohan, Santos—Robby would give them ten minutes max, and only to check them for a head injury.
Robby closes his eyes, clearly already tired of this conversation, which makes you feel worse. "I am not having this argument with you. Sit out or I'll ask Ahmad to escort you."
The idea of having to be dragged to the staff room is mortifying, and you know Robby knows that. He links his hands behind his neck, stretching. And yet, you know that Robby's not nearly in as much pain as you. Isn't that a kick in the shins?
"Robby, please," you say, and you try to step closer to him to meet his eyes, but it hurts to do even that. Bruises are forming, and the pain has tripled from your fall. You fail to hide your wince. Robby notices. Of course he does.
"No," he says, cold and final. "You're done. You think I'm gonna risk you falling again?"
"I tripped," you say again, and Robby inhales, furious and tense, so Dana steps in.
"Alright, alright." She easily steps between you two, putting a hand on Robby's chest and another on your shoulder. "Take a breath. C'mon, honey, let's get you some heat for the muscles. I got her, chief."
Dana tries to take your arm so you can lean your weight on her, but you jerk away.
"Please let me walk by myself," you say lowly, your eyes burning hot. "Please, Dana."
"You're the boss," she says quietly, and it nearly cracks you open. You're not the boss. You haven't been the boss of your own body in a long time.
You just manage to push yourself enough to get to the staff room without additional incidents. You sit on the couch and prop your legs up so your blood circulates back up your body. Dana had grabbed a couple heat packs from the nurses' station and she activates them now and places them on your thighs, where the pain stretches your skin tight and throbs.
The circulation is necessary, but the sudden shift in position is almost as bad as being on your feet. You dig your fingers into the back of the couch. You won't cry. Won't burden anybody more than you already have.
"And here's a Gatorade," Dana says, handing you a bottle. Light blue, your favorite. "Gotta get those electrolytes up."
"I could've finished the shift," you say.
Dana doesn't reply to that, which is probably for the best. If it were Robby, he'd argue, and that'd be miserable. But Dana's always been good at giving you dignity. She may not know pain in the same way you do, but she understands enough to realize that sometimes an argument is all the power you have.
"I'll check on you in a bit," she says, patting your neck. "Recline, so you don't strain your neck more."
And you know she'll stay until you do it, so you lean back, granting your shoulders relief. It's in this position that you finally feel the full strain of today's shift, and all the shifts before it. The pain isn't just in your legs, but your neck, your shoulders, your abs. All of your body's energy goes into keeping you upright. How did you make it through thirteen hours?
Dana leaves, turning off the lights as she goes. The door opens and the noise and chaos of the ER enters just for a moment, reminding you of what you're missing, before the door shuts. Your senses are dulled when you're in this much pain. Lights are aggravating, as is noise, but when it counts—like with a patient—you can miss stuff. You have missed stuff.
That's really why Robby got so angry. You know it. You're a liability. It's bad enough you can't function the way someone your age should. Now you're falling during shifts.
You were terrified of this happening. You haven't fallen during a shift until now, and although you don't know for sure, you have a sneaking suspicion that it'll keep happening. No amount of rest will allow you to heal and catch up. This job doesn't let you do that. You're in your fourth year of your residency, and your body is failing you.
You close your eyes and lean your head against your arm. As your adrenaline falls, and the pain intensifies and makes your muscles spasm, you start to cry. How are you going to do this?
The pain will never improve. Maybe it can be managed, but eventually, your body will break down. You can't even imagine doing this job when you're Robby or Dana's age.
The door opens. There's no clock, so you have no idea how much time has passed, but when you see Jack, you can guess that it's been at least forty-five minutes. He always comes in a little early for the night shift.
You rub your salt-tracked cheeks, hoping he won't notice. Maybe Jack won't see you at all.
He almost never comes into the staff room. Always brings coffee from home instead of drinking the sludge the hospital provides. He's here for you.
"He called you?" you ask, angry all over again. How fucking dare Robby.
"I actually work here, believe it or not," Jack says mildly. "You may have seen me putting bandaids on kids' knees. Real low-stakes stuff."
You aren't in the mood to joke, to let Jack's easy companionship engulf you. You haven't worked the night shift in a year, but that doesn't stop you from feeling pleased when you see him during the handoff and he takes a minute to talk to you, ask how you're doing. You like Jack a lot.
It's just now occurring to you that maybe he's noticed your pain too. Maybe that's why he takes time to talk to you.
You know either Dana or Robby told him you’re in here. You detest it. Jack is easily fifteen years older, if not more, and it's absolutely humiliating that the three most senior staff in the ER have to look out for you and your stupid broken body.
Jack comes to the couch. He pats your leg. "Scoot."
It startles you that he makes you move so he can sit on the couch with you. Anyone else would politely sit at the table and not make you move an inch.
But Jack sits and brings your legs down on his like you're in your living room. He props them so they're still higher than your heart. It's unfamiliar but not unwelcome.
He sips coffee from his thermos. He's warm. You watch him, waiting. Jack has never spoken to you about your pain. You assumed it was because you never worked enough night shifts for it to be a conversation. Even so, you would've hidden it for as long as you could.
Deep down, you know Jack would've spotted it faster than Robby had.
You let your head loll to one side. Jack seems content to let you hang in the silence. He's always struck you as the kind of guy who simply doesn't speak if he has nothing to say. It makes others uncomfortable, but you welcome it. When you're always in pain, being around someone who doesn't expect you to speak is a different kind of relief.
You suspect that's why he and Robby have been friends for so long.
"These are nice," Jack says, patting your exposed compression sock on your right leg. You wore the ones with koi fish.
"There was a sale online. Five for thirty-two."
He whistles. "A steal. These are the good kind."
You tilt your head. "You wear compression socks?"
He nods. "Just one. Not always, but it helps my other leg stay warm and keep the blood flowing when I'm wearing the prosthesis. It's not necessary but it makes me more comfortable."
He pulls his scrub leg up to show you a plain black compression sock.
"No prints?" you ask.
He laughs. "Wasn't really thinking about it when I bought them, no."
"The website I buy mine from has ones with German Shepherds on them. I think you'd like those."
"I do love a good Shepherd."
More silence. Then:
"Did you take anything? Tylenol?"
You shrug.
"That means no," he says.
"I'll be fine. I'll take some at home."
Jack looks at you like he can see down to your soul. You squirm.
"No one will judge you for it," he says.
"I can't take just one for it to do anything," you mumble. "I have to take four or five."
You're careful not to take any medication at work, even Tylenol. You don't want people thinking you need it to function.
You don't even like taking it at home. You might tonight because the pain is worse than usual, and it's compounded with bruises from your fall. But normally, you don't. You fear that if you start, you'll never be able to go without.
"So take four or five," he says. "Do you need it every day? You probably shouldn't take Tylenol every day, but there's other stuff."
You hesitate. "The pain isn't that bad every day."
"But you're in pain daily?"
"It's manageable."
"People your age are not in daily pain."
You look away. Your eyes sting. "I know."
Jack rubs and squeezes your shin. "I'm not saying it to make you feel bad. I think sometimes you forget."
"I don't," you say, voice cracking. "I know my body shouldn't feel this way. But I can keep going. I will."
"I don't think you can keep going like this," Jack says gently, and it doesn't hurt less to hear, but you're grateful that he's not yelling it.
"Robby told me off," you say, stomach spasming at the memory.
"I heard."
You look at Jack, tears in your eyes. "It was humiliating, Jack. Doesn't he know I don't want to be this way? I would be in pain for an hour longer if it meant he didn't tell me off in front of the whole fucking hospital."
"I know," he says. "I'll talk to him. He handled it poorly."
You sob. It's an accident. You didn't feel it coming, but it came out because it had to. Jack's eyebrows dip. His frown deepens.
"I don't want to live like this," you say, and he nods. He knows. You know he does. "I don't want to be young and in pain. It's not fair."
"I know," he says, and he carefully moves your legs aside so he can pull you against his shoulder. You cry into his neck. He smells like Old Spice. Jack rubs your back. "I know, I know. It's not fair."
"D-do you know how embarrassing it is that someone almost twice my age has to tell me to sit and rest? Or help me up because I fell?"
You feel Jack's hum in his chest. "I do. Felt it many times after the amputation."
You scowl into his scrubs. "That's different. You needed help."
Jack pulls you away so he can look at you. "How is it different? You need help too."
"You lost your leg. People understand."
He shakes his head. "Not everybody. And it doesn't make people's pity any easier to swallow, even if they mean well. It was the hardest after I got discharged. I wanted to do so much more, and I had to find a way to slow down, 'cause my body was revolting against me."
He's got you tucked against him, arm around your back, hand on your opposite arm.
"I'm trying," you say, desperate for someone to see. "I'm trying so hard, Jack."
"You are," he says, so tender, so much like a good doctor. "But maybe you need to find a different way to try. 'Cause this isn't working. And it's not sustainable."
You know what that means. You saw a doctor only once, hoping maybe they'd find some reason for why you're like this. Why you just can't seem to be your age the way everyone else is. But the doctor had simply told you that you'd probably need some kind of mobility aid. That even if you could push through the pain now, it wouldn't always be that way.
You'd never gone back after that appointment.
"Has anybody talked to you about aids?"
"You mean how I need them? Yes. One doctor. The others told me I needed to lose weight or it was my period. Like somehow getting pregnant will cure me."
"The fuck? Who's the joker that told you that? Gimme their name, I'll report 'em to the board."
You smile. It's nice to be cared for in this way. To have your pain acknowledged but for it not to be the only thing that defines you.
"I'll look them up later." You sigh, cheek against Jack's scrub top. "Do you think Robby would notice if I went back out? I have an elderly woman waiting on a CT."
"I'd notice."
"So? I could outrun you."
"Oh, really?" Jack moves you away a little so he can meet your eye. His eyes glitter with amusement. "You haven't even touched your Gatorade. I'll take my chances."
You let yourself think too long about Jack Abbot tackling you. If you weren't already bruised, you'd seriously consider it.
"I want to be a doctor," you say, suddenly sad all over again.
"You are a doctor."
You look at him. He looks right back. He's not lying, but you still find his words ridiculous.
"You know what I mean," you say.
"Do I? People practice medicine in all sorts of ways. If there's anything you should've learned in all your years here, it's that there isn't one way to heal yourself or your patients."
You've never told anyone your deepest fear, but you think Jack can handle it.
"What if I stop being able to walk or stand?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, but I feel like I should remind you that you're talking to the one-legged guy. So I'm a little biased."
It's easier to confess in the dark, to let Jack hold you for a little longer. "I don't want to be useless."
Jack pulls you back into his chest, patting your koi fish socks. "You aren't. Now take a little nap, and then I'll call you an Uber. My treat."
"Jack, c'mon. The Ubers are always your treat."
He's already slid his glasses onto his face. They rest at the tip of his nose as he taps at his phone with his index finger, the screen an unreasonable distance away. You hate how endearing you find it.
"So buy me some socks in return. Want some Uber Eats too?"
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notes: writing so i don’t think about the manga. for the wellness of my mental health. thank you for reading <3
♡
there's this thing shouto does
it's all too fresh. you can't even tell what you guys are.
shoto is a very a sincere yet blank person. you can't read in his expression what he's feeling nor can you interpret his little actions. but if you ask him what he thinks about something he’ll express his opinion in the most clear and gentle way possible.
the course to what you both are now it's werdly cute. you noticed this little something he did because, well, who didn't notice the presence of shouto todoroki? he's the personification of kindness and quietude and tranquility. turns out these definitions created the most beautiful person you've ever seen.
and by noticing the details you noticed the overall and by doing that you two ended up getting closer and closer. you could rely on him to come to your dorm to tell you dinner was ready and be right there by your side during it and you would find him during his training or studing sessions to give him a water bottle. you would’ve thought that with a quirk like that he'd remember to drink it, right? he didn't.
you two would find easement in each others patience and honesty. it's actually being there for each other and not jumping any steps and boundaries that made you two unintentionally friends.
so, on third year. todoroki, being his straghforwardly serene person that he was appeared in your dorm and cofessed to you how he had an affection for you for quite some time now, how much your time together was heightening to being the most comfortable he's been with someone and asked you if you wanted to stay by his side from now on.
those were his words. like, c'mon.
so you said yes. that you very much feel much calmer in his presence and would be absolutely happy to be by his side.
that was 2 weeks ago.
since then, you noticed this little thing he did.
which is funny, to perceive a slight action from someone whose words were his main character.
and you wait for it to happen at least three times before saying anything.
right now you were in the communal space, sitting in the sofa while your remaining colleagues were still stretching after a 2 hour movie and chatting the plot away,
it was summer so the air conditioner was on. a few glasses with only ice could be found on the coffee table.
you were next to shoto, by his right, smuggled between him and the furniture’s arm. you turn to look at him and gets irritated how his profile is so fucking powerful.
“do you like fantasy movies?” you whisper to him. he thinks about it for a moment.
“i like them” he replies, gazing down at his hands. “but they’re not my preference.”
“and what would that be?” you start fidgeting with your fingers, very slighly.
he takes a deep breath and squint his eyes for a second. he turns his eyes to you and you have to seriously fight your lungs to not hold your breath just because your heat leaped a beat.
“romcoms.” he says under his breath, expression clearly blank.
you pinched your lips trying not to let the chuckle escape. it makes sense, actually.
“can i ask why?”
“they’re very entertaning.” he comteplates softly “not too much going on but you can always have a great time and sometimes a good laugh.”
he finishes his thought and looks away, satisfied. you can’t help but feel your body sink in fondness.
“that’s true. they’re always nice.” you reply.
“what about you?”
“my favorite genre?”
he nods and looks at you again.
“i would say...” you look down and think how you’d already know the answer. would he think less of you for being too different from his likes? “drama? with a bit of suspense in it?”
he nods in response and you don’t feel his eyes on your face anymore. then he swiflty grabs your hand and now that's where you're both paying attention.
“it makes sense.” he concludes after a moment and you look up at him, intrigued. “they’re always very interesting.”
you let the little smile in your mouth win and checks around discretely, after seeing only a few people far in the kitchen you leave a gentle kiss on his shoulder.
the little smile also make an appearance on his face for a millisecond.
“i also really like animation.” you say.
his eyebrows go up for a second. “yes, some of them are really impressive.”
“they have a way to make hugs so beautiful and comforting...” you let it out before even thinking. that’s just how comforting it was being with him.
“oh. the studio ghibli embraces, isn’t it?” he completes.
“yes! it’s really profound somehow and sometimes a hug like that is all you need.” you look away and shiver. it is hot but you did not go well with air conditioners. the temperature people tend to feel content at usually was the same one you needed to be in a hoodie. but that was a unimportant fact that would die with you.
“hm” he replies “i think princess mononoke is my favorite one...”
“it suits you.”
he turns to you once again, expressionless. “does it?”
“uhum.” you feel your body shivering again “it’s very humane and important...”
“what else?” he whisper.
“and emotional and romantic... it’s perfect, really.” you hold his gaze, already wanting to stay there forever.
and then he does it.
right when you conclude your description you feel his fingertips slowly tracing yours with such tenderness and delicacy you’d almost miss it, if you didn’t also automatically felt your body warming up to the exact condition for you to feel perfectly comfortable.
“oh, shouto...” you let it espace, feeling like you could cry. you didn’t say a word about your issue but he noticed. he noticed you. used his quirk for you.
he interlocks your fingers and takes your knuckles to his mouth, placing a warm and short kiss there.
“it seems to me that it’s your favorite movie too.”
you move your free hand and position it in the back of his head, your fingers starts moving sweetly and he closes his eyes.
you take the opportunity to kiss him. he immediately responds and kisses you completely. his kiss is slow and patient and sure and you feel yourself melting in your feelings for him. your hand on his head makes sure to intensify the kiss and shoto lets a delicious and lovely sound escape his throat.
you pull back for a second. “i’m feeling a bit lightheaded.”
it's when tokoyami asks you about the little crow you keep hidden in your well vented dorm that you feel the heat that his arm exhale in the back of your chair.
now, the action itself it's not a huge revelation to you nor does it take more than a few glances from your colleagues.
and you didn't need to look at him, you knew he was still talking to momo.
you had controlled the sentiment a bit by now so your heart wasn't picking up its speed as much as it used to but you were a hero in the rising. you did notice that something was happening on the other part of the friendship as well.
katsuki knows you like him.
that was your resolution after the few reports you made to yourself when every action became too much this week. how can you come up with such a grand conclusion with only a week analysis, you ask?
when you like someone, you become too fucking aware of them.
the arm stayed there for the rest of the night. until momo gave us her good night and there was only kaminari and jirou talking at the end of the table. they weren't too far but so in their own world that if felt that way.
so, you lean back at the chair for the first time and his arm stayed there. it was so very there.
you grab your fork once again, steals an olive from his plate and eats it.
you were looking straight ahead but you could easily feel when you finally had his attention.
"it's sunday,"
you had little control of what came out of your mouth when you were with him. not in a sense you made a fool of yourself. you were just that comfortable with your thoughts being out of you when he was next to you. it was that easy.
he growled and looked ahead. in his language that meant "so?"
"you're supposed to be asleep in an hour if i'm correct."
no reaction from him.
sitting next to each other you had access to the view below the table, you caught about 3 seconds of his shaking leg before it stopped.
alright then.
"you trained with kirishima today, didn't you?"
"too easy." he says.
"how long did you take?"
"a minute."
you look ahead and raise your eyebrows but they went down astonishingly fast. on purpose, of course. his eyes were on you again.
"the fuck you mean by that?" a bit raspy by his tone and not very loud. angry nonetheless. it made you bite a smile.
"i'm not sure i know what you're talking about."
"watch me beat him in 40 seconds next time."
"oh! i'm sure you will." you smile.
"and murder you in the next 20."
you pout in response and he looks away. you bring the last olive of his plate to your mouth.
was he shaking his legs because he's anxious? not that he's not allowed to. you two were a bit close but not close enough for you to understand his deepest afflictions.
you were only starting to learn how to read him. by the sidelines so he wouldn't know the reason behind the intention.
apparently you failed that part!
you still wish you could help him though.
"is there a reason you're still up?" it came out as nonchalant as you wanted.
the clock on the wall dominated the silence for a few seconds before it happened. the hand on the back of your chair started to thread slightly to your back, so featherly and slow you could be imagining the feeling. until his fingertips reached the hem of your shirt.
you inhale and exhale. his fingers stopped and stayed. the skin to skin was barely there.
"is there anything else happening today?" you ask and it's kinda funny how both of you are looking to your empty plates.
he hums again but with a chuckle leaking from it.
"fucking hope so."
you jolted for a millisecond when his finger started to gently move on the nape of your neck, then your body was completly at the mercy of that ligh movement.
"you'd expect a UA student from the hero course would have the balls to say what she feels."
you lost the grip in your heart and even though it was beating way faster than it was supposed to, you were still so very comfortable. because it was him.
"gave her a whole ass week... but apparently i overestimated the prick."
you turn your head to watch his profile. red eyes glistening.
"calling me out" you let out, a bit irritated you couldn’t contain the little smile on your face "when i caugh some anxious moviments under the table."
he turns to you and he was so close you were certain the clock stopped ticking.
"still doing it, aren't i?"
his mouth meets yours in a heartbeat. a kiss so angryly slow that made you lightheaded. he moves his tongue dominantly but when you got the chance to bite his lip he growls deliciously into you and the hand on your neck rushes to your hair, deepening the kiss.
your hand flies to his neck, your fingers wanting to stay on his skin forever but when they make it to his blonde locks it feels like they were always meant to be there. you were drowning in him.
when he pulls back it takes probably 5 seconds for you to open your eyes. the red on his consumed by his pupils.
"is that why you let me eat the olives you leave for last this past week?"
"and your ass owns me for every one of them." his fingers were gently strocking your hair.
you nod and kiss the corner of his mouth. he closes his eyes and hums in response. you really hope he feels as safe with you as you feel with him.
"it's okay. i see it makes a difference when you’re taking a whole minute to defeat someone."
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notes: kind of based in peace by taylor swift. in this fic reader has anxiety. of a specific situation. it’s based on my experience but i don’t want to treat this matter lightly so feel free to warn or discuss any concerns with me. thank you for reading <3
english is not my first language so apologies.
♡
part 1: but I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm
you really wish you’d outgrowned this by now.
you hear your name being called from the other side of the door and you lean against it.
“we’re almost up!” tetsutetsu affirms softly. “i’ll come back when we’re done, okay?”
at this point you don’t feel ashamed anymore. tetsu has been your person for a year now. his friendship had the softness his quirk lacked.
when you don’t respond he continues “i’m not disappointed in you.”
“okay.” you let out with soft snicker.
“i heard that.”
“aren’t you late?”
“it doesn’t matter.”
“please, go. i'm proud of everyone. you’re gonna be amazing.”
“do you understand that nobody is disappointed? i won’t leave until i’m certain you understood.” he says and his body leaning against the door is not a subtle sound. you take a deep breath.
“i’m okay.” you smile to yourself, feeling loved when you’re not really feeling deserving of it “and i understand. thank you.”
your response is sincere enough for you to hear his stance subtly getting ready to leave.
“you’re doing great.” his voice is as sweet as he can muster. you’re not sure you believe his words but you can feel he means them. “we’re proud of you! and i’ll be right back.”
he steps back and walks for a few seconds to deceive you that he wasn’t late but in seconds you can faintly hear him running.
you look around. you walk towards where the drums were supposed to be and sit on the floor there, back against the closest wall.
right now, your defeated breathing and relaxed but tense heart were more frustrated about the situation than the main issue of it all. you were in the 3nd year of the UA’s hero course. it shouldn’t be like that.
you’re mature enough to understand there’s nothing and no one to blame. you consider yourself a strong and secure person. since your first day here, you went out to find a way to have a private and open chat with present mic and he was so very considerate.
you explained how sometimes loud noises caused you to have a few anxiety crises. it didn’t happen much but sometimes you tried to deceive yourself when the situation escalated, not really wanting to admit you were having an attack. you're not proud of those moments.
but you want to become a hero so you want to be as clear and sincere as possible about this so it doesn’t affect your goals and your future.
not saying that noises in general are a problem for you but the whole ambient influences and the aggregation of noises is what set it off.
but you like to think that since the first day you’ve come a long and upright way.
you stayed in the music room for a while and felt your mind troubling. you feel a few tears falling down your face and you weren’t even feeling that sad but the disappointment in yourself was leaking from you.
you took a few deep breaths and tried to trick your brain's main focus.
this was your place of choice to calm yourself, not sure if it’s because of the sound isolation or it being the furthest from the arena where everything happens but it was a good place. a very nice room if you consider that barely anybody would be interested in music being in a hero course. no, that’s quite judgemental, don’t think like that. you’re here after all.
and it’s quite contradictory thinking when as soon as you finish your thought, the door slams open.
your eyes meet a pair of ferocious red dots and unintentionally you feel your whole body shiver. the fuck?
the boy stares at you for 5 full seconds before he starts to actually move. if he was even slightly surprised to see you there, his expression wasn't showing it. apart from the very much common furrowed eyebrows, he was blankly normal.
your gaze was glued on him as he walked towards you. he stops at the little drawer not far from you and gets something from the upper drawer as well as a coat that was hanging in the microphone stand nearby. you blink and he’s already at the door again, he slams it as he leaves and you flinch.
right, katsuki bakugo was supposed to play the drums today. it’s really interesting that he, a wild rabbit (as you named him, you know, because of the red eyes and not being very tall) in form of human, would be patient enough to learn how to play any instrument. you didn’t know much of the boy, being from class B yourself but your classes have done enough training together to understand that he doesn’t really like stillness, your class or people in general.
you stay perfectly seated there for a long time. the shame and resentment you were feeling, now it’s a snowball of sadness. you really wish you were brave as the kid you thought you’d be by now.
well, let’s not go down that path again. you wanted to become a hero and you will. you still had a year ahead of you and all you needed was a bit of bakugo’s fierceness in you. midoriya also seemed to be a very dedicated person and far more approachable...
when you hear your belly complaining you decide it’s time to face the consequences of your actions. and exactly when you move a single leg to get up, the door opens and bakugo is back and you freeze. he opened the door calmly like a normal person and perhaps that’s why you froze.
he’s not looking at you when he makes his way to the couch a few meters away, on your diagonal. he throws his body there like he’s exhausted and lays his head so he’s staring at the ceiling. and he just stays there.
you look around like you’re waiting for something in the room to indicate to you what to do next.
time passes and nothing happens so your body relaxes a tiny little bit.
drums are so cool, actually. we all know the drummer is the coolest in a band. if you could learn one instrument it’d be drums. maybe piano first cause they say that after learing piano everything is easier…
“we crushed your useless class today.” his rough and deep voice reverberates around the room.
anxiety fills you up for a slip of a second before you evict it out of your body. not exactly because of him but because of the possibility of him asking you that one question.
“i, too, you would brag about my skills with instruments if i couldn’t act for shit.” you retort softly.
his head moves and his eyes are on yours again.
“your plays are always shitty.”
“not what the crowd says.”
“it’s exactly what the crowd says.” his tone intends to finish the discussion. in his head, maybe.
“well, do you consider what the crowd usually says about you?”
he immediately squinted his powerful eyes, analyzing you. you look away like that would make his curiosity go away too.
“you guys are always great.” you continue, your tone off for those who knew you.
his furrowed eyebrows deepened and he shakes his head lightly.
“just say what you want to say.”
“you guys should change the genre once in a while. the sparkles and lights and glitter can only get you so far.” it’s out of you automatically.
he focus returns to the celling.
“it’s what i always tell those idiots.”
“why would they listen to the one that can explode the whole auditorium because of a fly, am i right?”
“don’t fuck with me, i follow their ideas every damn time.” he responds, in a rasp yet soft tone.
you start fidgeting with your rings. it’s a surprisingly peaceful feeling, this interaction. but there’s a question flying around you both. did he even notice you weren’t there? you’re probably thinking too much about yourself.
the worst of it all is that you’re dressed to go. your make up is nicely done. well, a bit blurred because of the tears but that added a charm, you think.
but it took a second for everything to seem impossible to achieve. so you just keep talking and not thinking.
“do you know how to play the piano?”
“no” he grunts.
“is there another instrument you’d like to learn?”
he drops his head to look at you again and it’s starting to feel familiar.
“no”
“yeah.” you look down at your hands “nothing like the drums.”
just keep talking. distract him and yourself.
“is there a secret to not get nervous before going up the stage?” you ask without even noticing where this question is edging for.
“i’m here to be a hero.” his voice impossibly lower “a bunch of students are nothing.”
you chuckle lightly. “aren’t you just a student as well?”
“i don’t usually believe what the crowd says about me.”
you’re smiling faintly when you’re looking up again. “you don’t?”
“not a single fuck is given.”
you nod still smilling. he’s kinda funny.
but his gaze is very still.
“i remember last month’s training our classes did together. you ended yaoyorozu.” he says, low and calm and you chuckle.
“that’s what happened. you won.” his gaze is unrevealing and calm but is also a challenge.
“think i can take you?”
his face tells you nothing and you’d give money for what he’s thinking. “wanna try?” he says.
a giddiness fills you up. like the thrill of making new friends or the good kind of nervousness you feel before your friends sing you happy birthday. yet, you don’t have an opportunity to respond because someone opens the door.
“heyyyy” tetsu comes in with the biggest smile on his face and when you look at him it’s like all the heavy emotions in your body reawakens.
oh, no. he’s your friend. don’t feel that way. bad, bad heart.
“hi!” your voice shatters. and now you’re feeling the fake kind of giddiness. you didn’t even want to look at bakugo. “i was about to look for you.”
“bakugo!” tetsu acknowledges bakugo while you’re getting up and his response is silence. perhaps he's spending too much time with kirishima because that barely affects him, so he turns back to you. “we’re about to get some food. kendo wanted me to get you immediately.”
you smile at him. “okay. let’s go.”
“they definitely cheered louder for us today-" as tetsu leaves the area, that heavy but welcoming peace of whatever happened there hits you. you stop by the door before leaving and turn around to look at bakugo only to find his eyes already on you.
and with a neutral face and inoffensive tone you tell him.
“i can take you.”
not waiting for a response, you close the door behind you.
part 2: if your cascade, ocean wave blues come
and for the next 3 months, everything moved regularly slow.
you did your best in everything you put your strength in. you didn’t let the uncomfortable situation hold you back in getting better with present mic and, granted, the results were appearing in your other life subjects.
you always did great in the theoretical part of school, always willing to learn new things and you had a saying you created yourself that was: all books eventually catch one’s attention. sometimes you gotta go through hell before everything gets interesting.
and accordingly, you put your name on the 3rd spot in your class ranking.
you were proud of that.
in the span of those next months you trained with new faces. you made a good friendship with honenuki, growing to meeting each other after hours to not hold back in the sparing.
present mic said that was a good idea. train with someone you didn’t know well to get habituated with different kinds of noises in different ambients.
now, when it came to the exercises with class A, there were interesting surprises.
the first one, happened 3 weeks after your encounter with bakugo, and unfortunately your group didn’t include him.
and it’s not like you were looking for something here but that situation you both had left you curious about the boy. for the particular reason that when you were feeling frustrated and sad about yourself, his presence were a calming thought in that storm. someone so outrageous gave you a sense off easiness.
like. that was perfectly normal, right?
he didn’t ask why you weren’t at the presentation and he didn’t underestimate you for that either. and that’s all you wanted. to not be and breathe peacefully because you were not being judged.
the second interesting event happened 4 weeks after that. in spite of aizawa’s enormous lack of effort and energy to deal with professor sekijiro, they decided to unify the classes for the day and let the students review and establish in pairs how to manage their quirks whilst working with an unfamiliar sidekick.
you were incapable of controlling your wide eyes the second bakugo walked to you with heavy steps and serious eyes. some colleagues also noticed the strange occurrence and that made you a little uneasy. but you handled like the mysterious and confident person you pretended to be with him that day.
you held his gaze but you couldn’t fucking stop the sweat it was forming in the back of your neck.
because honestly, nothing really changed between you two, only a few exchanged glaces in the cafeteria but that was it. and being even more honest, class A was annoyingly famous around the school so you couldn’t (and didn’t have the balls) to approach the angriest boy in the faculty out of nowhere.
since the task was to be a sidekick you didn’t have to fight against him or anything, so you just took a sip of water and went on with it with your head held high.
bakugo was a handful with capital H but a brilliant leader in a ferocious way, so it was a great activity.
and you could really sense that each time it was an activity outside of your comfort zone, you were feeling less and less overwhelmed with the noises. you were proud of that too.
the exercise took practically the whole day and when everyone was tiredly getting back to the dorms, he passed by you. the bastard didn’t even look at you when he rumbled.
“meet me in the gymnasium in two hours.”
by the time the phrase is understood by your brain, he’s already out of your sight.
but you already knew what it was going to happen. so, you quickly made your way to your dorm, took a slow shower and ate dinner while mentally preparing yourself.
what is this feeling?
excitement? nervousness? you tried not to look too closely at the tiny bit of giddiness also in there.
when the time came you made your way to the gymnasium, trying to make your heart and brain settle down and as you entered the place you saw bakugo himself with his back to you, stretching.
you’ve seen him with those black tanks tops out and about from afar innumerous times.
getting a closer look of his perfectly broad back and designed bíceps made your brain and heart finally agree in one certain feeling.
that’s enough. he’s here to purely beat your ass.
you walk towards him and put your bag on a bench nearby.
“took it to heart, i see.”
“no” he didn’t even look at you.
“you’re kinda easy to work with” you admit swiftly as you start to get ready too, taking your eyes off of him. “should make a great opponent as well.”
he grunts in response.
“if you go easy on me, i’ll walk.” you say.
and then you finally feel his eyes on you. “then don’t waste my time.”
and that’s how you had the most difficult practice of your entire life.
bakugo didn’t hold back and you had to think ridiculously fast to survive every single insanely fast strategies he came up with. but you did not hold back either and you’re very satisfied to say you put up with him for some good minutes before he won the match. the boy was almost number 1 of the entire school, you won’t minimize your efforts.
when it ended and you were on the ground breathing heavily, he walked to you and offered his hand. and without saying another word you two spared again. and again. and again.
and it took you some time to get used to his explosions so near you but you think you could maneuver your reactions when you actually focused on learning his movements and adapting yours to them. but you're not sure how he endures this loudness.
and he won every single time. but during fights you both were adjusting to how the other thought and moved. it was such an intense but pleasant experiment that you allowed yourself to comment to him your thoughts about his fighting, not criticising nor imposing but simply a different point of view.
and you think you worded everything greatly because his eyes weren’t showing you the usual amount of irritation and after a while he started to comment about you as well.
that was exactly 6 days ago.
right now, you were at the music room once again, sitting by the piano learning how to play twinkle twinkle little star through an app.
it was a choice you made after the festival and okay. not your proudest decision but it calmed you down when you needed to. school is not easy and having a hobby whilst wanting to become a hero is scarce nowadays.
it was an inoffensive little hobby.
you were thinking jingle bells was probably next.
you’ve been there for about 30 minutes when the door slammed open. they really needed to check it someday, people have not been gentle with it.
and you look up to find bakugo katsuki irradiating rage. it was clear he wanted to storm off to the couch he seated last time but to your unfortunate it was close to the piano and he stopped once he noticed you were in the room as well.
everything you knew about class A was from kirishima cause he and tetsu were strangely close. which is funny because he’s really close to bakugo too but you rarely talked to the blonde up until now.
well, you heard this week that class A had a very important evaluation today. the show-us-in-public-how-much-you-evolved-your-quirk-and-rescuing-people kind of evaluation. so this right now could be related to that information.
you tried to read in his expression if you’d be the target of whatever got him enraged but before you could analyze anything he simply moved again and angrily sat, closing his eyes.
his irritation tugged something in you. a bit of impotence. you had no idea how to help him and you’re certain that ask him how is the absolute last option.
so you did the most reasonable thing. you look down and continued to play the piano.
if it helped calm you down perhaps it did the same for him. the boy who smashed the drums. ha.
and for a fair 5 minutes that’s how you both stayed. once you thought you were beginning to understand how to differentiate the dozen of white sticks in front of you, you raise your head to find him in the exact position as before.
you don’t know him deeply but if you thought you did, you’d say the wrinkles around his eyes and the furrow between his brows seemed slightly softer.
“they say that after you learn how to play the piano, the other instruments are easier to master” you say almost whispering.
he shakes his head imperceptibly with his eyes still closed.
“fucking stupid.”
you play another verse of the one song you know on the piano before answering “i don’t think so.”
suddenly, you wish you could see how his smile is.
“i can teach you.” you continue.
“no.”
“you don’t trust me?”
he finally lowers his head and makes a face to you. a low and short grunt in response.
“oh no.” you shake your head “i thought we were past this. i swear i didn’t let you win when we trained. you won far and square, i promise.”
it was a single joke to lighten up his mood. you only intended to create a good and natural conversation but when you heard him snickering with a pinch of genuine laugh underneath it you wanted to make a few more jokes to keep hearing it.
“you’re a moron.”
“i thought we were past this too.”
“i’m gonna past you if you say that again.” his raspy but calm voice fills the room.
“i see you need a little more of twinkle twinkle little star in you.” you look down and start to play again with a surprising efficiency.
he exhales.
“okay.” you stop playing.
you look at him again and his eyes are you so you keep talking. “learned this one today.”
“congratulations.” very sincerely sarcastic of him.
“in half na hour. one note at a time” you add.
he grimaces and you smile.
“just saying.” you add. you pass your fingers through the piano keys threatening to actually force them. “do you consider yourself a good drummer?”
“i’m fucking great.”
you nod in response, agreeing.
he raises his eyebrows for a millisecond. “how’d you know?”
now, that’s the tricky part.
he doesn’t sound bitter or even rude. he’s completely neutral and you don’t know how to read this... dispute? audacity?
so he noticed you weren’t at the festival and you know what he’s asking you now and you’re not sure how to continue the conversation. or how to take that in general.
do you think you can handle how his view of you would probably change? if you’re comfortable enough to share, does it matter? and surprising even yourself, you think trust him to be honest without you getting hurt by his views.
“are we caring about what the crowd says now?” your voice is small.
“only the ones that don’t waste my time.” he replies just as carefully.
well.
that was not good for your heart.
“let’s say” you start “i’m here learning an instrument. it’s not very different from why you’re here today.”
his brows immediately furrow “i think it is-”
“did we not” bold move interrupting him. “learn these instruments for the same reason?”
“careful.”
“and honestly-“
“aren’t you a honest person.” it comes out rough of him.
“this” you gesture lazily to the room. “it’s working for me.”
he is genuinely paying attention to what you’re saying. you don’t wonder if it’s because he’s getting angrier or you’re an easy distraction.
“at least that’s what i’d like to believe. i’m 3rd place in my class and i’m getting better... with everything else.” anxiety, you mean.
he’s just staring and you keep going softly “you’re practically top 3 of the whole school. and that’s a lot of pressure, i’d be terrified."
“yeah?” he hums.
“uhum.” red is a fucking intimidating color to keep looking at. “even the most powerful person in school needs a little bit of ease. i hope this place helps you as it helps me...”
the last part comes out almost like a whisper. and you’re aware you’re talking too much but the boy already saw you sitting in a corner of this very room with ruined makeup. it doesn’t get worse or realer than that.
“we just need to work on our control.”
then even his aura changes. he carefully tilts his head, daring you to continue.
“we?”
“don’t get me wrong-” you add.
“oh.” he hiss. shit.
“what i’m saying is...” you hesitate and push aside any warning in your head. and your exploding heart. “i don’t know you well enough, and i don’t want to assume. how could i know you from other people's opinion?”
you can see him relaxing again. it’s very subtle. he’s not too guarded anymore, so you take that in consideration. you start playing jingle bells in the background of your head to motivate you.
“but i come here to calm my mind and if you’re just like me... then you’re probably losing control of your brain too.”
you look down to your fingers and your breathing stabilizes. if you truly think about it, you were acutely more nervous about the fact of letting what you’re feeling out of you than him blowing your head for what you said.
“are we psychoanalyzing each other?”
“no.” you shake your head “i just want you to enjoy twinkle twinkle little star with me.”
you want to look up but you’re scared.
a beat passes.
“you know what i think?”
he speaks and you look at him. he’s the softest he can be.
“that you are actually letting it control you.”
now, what the fuck.
you’re the one with the furrowing brows this time. okay. your secret is always pretend you’re confident and in the control of the situation.
“oh bakugo,” you smile a little “are we friends now?”
“for a honest person, you’re dodging a lot.”
goddammit. his answers are always so quick.
“alright.” you compromise “can we make na arrangement?”
“hm” that's all you got.
“every wednesday we train together after hours for a bit, that’ll help me” this part is very true “and in return i'll do my best to work wherever i can on whatever makes you almost break the poor door every time you feel the need to come here.”
he was sending you a gaze that could blow you into atoms in the blink of an eye but you see that he thinks before answering.
“i'm not holding anything back."
him going along with you in this was enough as it is. "i'm not expecting you too."
"and then what?"
"then we meet at christmas and whoever is better will get a prize."
you bite a laugh when he just looks at you. visibly forcing himself not to roll his eyes.
"like friends do." you add.
"i get it." he growls.
all of that leaves you with a sweet and fresh feeling. like when you're a little kid and you spend the day with your best friend of a week that is also your little crush but you don't know it's a crush cause you're too young and naive.
and that discovery doesn't ruin anything, cause you're a centered person. you're not expecting anything at all from this. having him as a friend is more than enough and you're grateful.
his phone seals the conversation when it starts to ring but stops after he even got out of his pocket.
"fucking hate when they do that." he mumbles.
you look down again, not letting your mind twist.
"when i win and meet you in a month." he breaks the silence very collectively as he starts getting up "i'll need you to be very honest with me, got it?"
your whole body hair did not just go up with that.
"careful, bakugo." you hope you sound as nonchalant as him.
he's already by the door when he answers you. "great. we have a deal."
he leaves closing the door. slaming it.
part 3: the devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me
katsuki is absurdly attentive. It’s a blessing and curse.
you two trained every wednesday night, for three months. that made too many nights of pain and a feeling you locked in a vault instead of actually feeling it.
you’re not very proud of how much you had to suppress yourself to focus on learning about fighting, strategies and agility and not about the way he was brutal yet methodical with the movements of his arms. how his blond hair was everywhere imitating his explosions in a tender and fierceful way.
bakugo were beautifully strong inside and out.
some of the trainings he talked about your movements in such a genuine way that made you almost unlock that vault.
it was very clear he didn't take bullshit in any form. a hesitation from you and he would make it obvious you were unworthy of his efforts. if he notice you were holding back by any means he would strike twice as loud. he had a way to push you to your best that was enchanting.
until one day your whole class had to toil an ignorant mistake monoma made professor sekijiro. everybody had show the UA to some little kids throughout the afternoon. some agitated and boisterous little kids.
the punishment left you with a latent headache but mostly on edge of everything. the constant screaming and agitation felt like a big step back from your work til now but you know a day is not regression. you just feel like you didn’t stop shaking a bit since lunch.
you made your way to the gym earlier than the last 4 wednesdays to tell bakugo if you could reaschedule.
you're not sure his boots had its own rhythm or if the structured angry marches were beginning to feel too comfortable in your routine.
he simply stood in front of your feet and you quickly stood up, not allowing his shadow overwhelm your figure sat on the floor.
"could we rearrange this today?"
your voice completely exposing your fatigue. months ago this would make you feel too vulnerable. now you're just thinking you'd rather hear his raw judgement than lift an arm and try to motivate your quirk to happen.
he just watches you. you're pretty sure he knows how his eyes are an entirely quirk by themselves. they weaken your thoughts.
"we could train our rescuing approaches."
his eyebrows furrow. oh, you need to be careful from now on.
"you quitting?" his voice was deep. lacking understanding on purpose.
"no." your response is fast.
"it sounds like you are."
"i'm just suggesting something quieter. then maybe train tomorrow?"
for someone who sounded offended when you analyzed each other on your earlier encounters, he sure was looking at you too firmly.
"quieter.” he repeats.
“theoretical.”
“why?”
you feel like crying for some reason “it was a long day. i’m just tired.”
he’s always immaculately angry, but you know that’s actually his neutral. a few seconds pass.
“no.”
you simply exhale.“no?”
he walks towards a beach and places his bag on it.
“our deal is almost up.”
“yes... i’m sorry. i can make it up to you tomorrow, i promise.” you respond. you’re supposed to meet each other in the music room next week.
he locks his jaw and looks at you. there’s a hint of hesitation before he speaks again. he’s such a hypocrite sometimes.
“aizawa told me i reduced 40% of damage on areas surrounding villains attacks.” he admits plainly.
your eyes widen a bit, automatically.
“bakugo… that’s truly amazing.” you confess you always wanted to have classes with aizawa. “i’m-”
“so you see how i can be pissed when i’m the only one making my part of the fucking deal, right?” his interruption was casually rough.
you furrow your eyebrows.
“i don’t see how i’m failing.”
“then why are you not being honest right now?”
it sinks in you. that is fair although it feels unfair. you’re not sure how to respond, paralyzed by being called out and knowing you made progress but feel unable to put it into words.
“it’s more complex than that, bakugo.” you relive “it’s a bad day.”
“it’s not whatever reason you had a bad day. it’s the why we’re doing this.”
“well, i’m getting faster and faster during our sparing.” you justify “i’m sure you can see how you’re helping me.”
“how would i? you’re still dodging.”
you don’t seem to understand his line of thought and you think he notices.
“you say there’s a reason we went to that room all the time” he sounded cold “i don’t do what i don’t want to.”
okay, you think you know where he’s coming from…
“but there’s enough shit i can take from someone when they’re always keeping me at an arm's leigh.”
you technically didn’t have to be an open book with him. it’s not fair of him to ask you to be so vulnerable about things he didn’t understand. but he was right, wasn’t he? he was giving you something and you’re empty handed.
“i see.”
you whisper and look around, avoiding the presence of the person you just now realized became a solid pillar of your growth. shame is an icy feeling.
after a second you look back at him and he’s looking at you. there’s an hesitation on him but it’s from a vastly different intention than yours.
he turns back to his bag.
“till next week then.” he grabs his black tank top and a necessarie and goes straight to the men's toilet.
you feel impotent. on yourself.
this conversation added such a bitter brick on your mural of bad occasions of the day that you couldn’t find it in yourself to stay and try to fix this. it could wait until tomorrow, you think.
you left the gymnasium without looking back.
the next few days you were unsure of everything. of how to study, how to organize yourself, how to talk to present mic on your monthly encounters but he seemed to grasp and believe that you could figure yourself out.
you didn’t see bakugo and it was not an uncommon thing that you don’t bump into each other. but you felt like you were owing him something. an apology. but you’re sure he would appreciate more honesty.
you already had his christmas gift prepared disregarding the result of your little deal. you’re just not sure if he’d still show up. he’s impulsive sometimes but he doesn’t back down from anything. not even the smallest of the complications. so you’re holding onto that.
you exchanged numbers but only to arrange the training schedule. you’re brief when you send him your last text.
“we could meet at 2pm on the 24th. is that okay?”
the silence was loud.
swiftly, the 24th of December arrives and you’re already pacing on the large and very empty music room. your gift carefully situated on the piano’s bench. there’s a least 10 motives that you could put a fault to for reasoning your nervousness.
should have you apologized before this? you’d rather do this in person if you could. was your gift too much? you could’ve talked to kirishima on the sidelines. were you crossing a line?
you were thinking about playing the piano to calm your systems because it’s funny, you actually learned jiggle bells-
the door opens. not delicately but not too rough.
you stop to look at him. he’s an all black attire, too smooth to look like he’s genuinely warm from the cold. but he said it himself. he’s too much himself to do or wear anything remotely uncomfortable to him.
he walks slowly towards the column near the microphone stand and leans against it. hands on his pockets. very nonchalant of him.
you were too tense on your on feelings you didn’t take in consideration how you both became truly friends in those past months for him to be his casual self around you. the growing intimacy being the very reason of your feelings for the boy.
“how do we settle this?”
he sounds calm. you feel 10 tons less heavy. you inhale and exhale and wish you could talk elaborately like present mic talked to you.
“i’m getting there.”
“no rush.” he straights up and start stretching his arms.
he’s messing with you and bite back a smile.
“it’s safe to say you’re more worthy of a prize than i am.” you start talking, making your way to the piano bench “turns out you’re a better learner than me.”
“you had doubts?”
you grab the present and turn back to him smiling. “i think i had too much faith in myself.”
he huffed. you cautiously walk towards him and he just kept looking at you.
“pitying yourself now?” he whispers raspily.
“no.” you hand him the package. “you were just a surprise.”
his eyebrows went slightly up as he took it from your hands.
when you have nothing to lose you really do get braver. in a way that you’d accept his rejection with your head held high because he would not treat you any differently than his genuine feelings and intentions. that sincerity counts too much.
“i think i took you for granted…” you admit “i don’t think i should have opened up the way you wanted me to that day”
he didn’t move a muscle to open his prize. you could hear your heart beating but you force yourself not to become fidgety. “but our practices and my learning from you and this consistency of us became so familiar, too good… that i felt like i was the best version of myself in these moments. that maybe… i unconsciously didn’t want to ruin it in any way.”
he was always attentive so his complete focus on you weren’t strange. you were just overthinking the last whole year and trying to convince yourself that he wouldn’t find what you said cheesy or cringe.
after a few seconds he just looked at his hand and meticulously started to unwrap his gift.
“i struggle with anxiety when my surroundings are too noisy.” you let out watching his hands “and, well, your quirk isn’t smooth.”
he was unfolding the brand new black tank top on his hands now. you think this is a great gift, regardless of the outcome.
“so… i could say that working with you was perhaps the best thing that happened to me in all those years of school.”
his eyes were focused on your expressive idea. on the very middle of the tank top contained a small drawing and a few words. number one written on the top and on the middle of a delicate image of a grenade, it said hero.
you were pretty sure you crossed an immense line on this relation because of this but his softened wrinkles were your best prize.
he lightly brushed his thumb over the embossing before blinking and moving towards the little drawer you once saw him interact with and retreat a small red box from there. oh, his part was here all along. that’s performative. in a bakugo way.
“how long was that there?” you ask.
“don’t let it get to your head. i actually play one of the instruments here often.”
you pout with his response and he comes back to you.
he hands you his present and there’s only so much bravery you have in you. you can’t really look him in the eyes.
you start to unlace it and your brain is blank on what could this possibly be. when the box is free you open it quite briskly.
then you see a very elegant pair of earplugs.
thinking about it, you shouldn’t be that surprised. but you were.
“when you fought momo back then, i noticed how you flinched every time she created some kind of explosion.” he states and you keep focusing on the earplugs. he got you hearing protectors. they were beautiful, red and small enough. there were some golden embodiments on them.
“it was too subtle. even yaoyorozu didn’t notice” he continued. “but it takes one to know one.”
he takes his free hand to his pocket then proceeds to show you his own black pair. growing up with a power like his… you should’ve suspected. he was attentive to his objective but mostly to himself.
you finally look up with glistening eyes.
“i don’t…” what can you say?
“and after you won the fight, you stayed there for the rest of the students. i could see you shaking. you were just going through with it.”
he never looked more real and tender. he guarded his protectors and took his hand to your face. his fingers wiped out the single tear that escaped your eye and stayed there. smoothing your cheek.
you closed your eyes.
“had to kick your ass for weeks for you to finally see me.”
you chuckled and opened your eyes as he rested his hand on the nape of your neck. it was warm.
“just wanted you to control this stupid feeling. feel the security you pretend to have in public.”
he says and you look at his lips and you can’t look at anything else. the only thing worthy of your attention. you can’t control yourself and you let go.
“i’m gonna…” you sound breathy but it doesn’t really matter cause katsuki is faster and his lips are on yours. he kisses you passionately and you retribute putting your hand on his blond locks.
it’s a slow and deep kiss. raw emotions that words aren't able to understand. the intensity of it is matched between the two of you so it’s just deliciously passionate.
without stopping the kiss he pushes you lightly until your back hits the column. he presses you there like needs it. like he doesn't want you to let go of him.
after some time you separate, biting softly his lower lip and he let out a scratchy sound.
you look into his eyes before noticing you’re finally seeing a ghost of a smile on his face. he’s too appealing. too interesting and too gorgeous. you can’t take this.
“think i’m the number one hero, huh.”
then he goes and traces your neck with slow kisses.
“i’m learning all your secrets.” you force it out of you.
“please, do” he bites the area where your neck meets your ear and you hold your breath involuntarily.
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U R SO SO SO SO TALENTED I LOVE THE SHOUTO AND BAKUGOU WRITINGS U DID!!! Plspls during ur spare time IF U CAN write anything for bakugou U get his character so well 🥲🥲💝💝💝
ohhhhh 🥺 thank you so much 💙 you’re too nice. i will i will, i’m having great ideas! really hope to reach your expectations
i’ll love you in silence, from a distance, just like i love the moon.
(a certain scene of never let me go inspired me. once again english is not my first language so my sincere apologies. anyone can read! it doesn’t contain any pronouns.)
you get out of bed hesitantly.
your steps to the door are slow, your anxiety makes you be careful even if the man in the other room is concentrated watching TV.
peter was too kind and too unbelievably beautiful you sometimes felt he wasn't real. he had those eyes that told people staight away how big his heart is and how he would never judge anyone and yet you couldn't help but look at them and want to change all of you to be everything he ever wanted.
and you've known each other for so long, there's no reason for this nervousness. who are you trying to fool here y/n, you know damn right why you’re bitting your nails.
his sofa faces the bedroom door so you took a deep breath before opening it.
you open the door and leave the room, closing the door you keep looking at your hand on the doorknob. enough seconds have passed to understand that your intention isn’t going to the bathroom.
when you finally look at him, his eyes were on you with a small smile next to it to accelerate your already accelerated heart.
he lifts the blanket in the empty space next to him and you nod almost imperceptibly. it wasn't that close like cuddle close. but it was pretty close.
okay. this is okay.
and now looking at the tv you frown. he was watching sonic the hedgehog.
"it's a nice movie." you say.
he turns to you. "what?"
"what what?"
"it is a nice movie." he answers agressivily.
"that's what i just said"
"it was implied in your tone what you meant." you really try to hide a smile. there was a split second of silence. "the second movie is coming out. that's why i wanted to watch."
even though a smile was trying to escape he looked like a child who's been told he couldn't have ice cream for dinner.
and for a moment you rest your head on his shoulder in way to show him you are kidding, it was supposed to be for a second but he suprises you wrapping his arm around your shoulders and hugging you.
you end up watching the rest of the movie like this. the world and paranoias completely forgotten.
"i mean... i get it. it was because of james marsden, wasn't it?"
you say when the credits start to roll and turn to him. "i see your smirk. you were so planning to watch enchanted after this-"
a low scream escapes from your throat when he hugs you and the two of you fall lying on the couch.
it can be said that you are close but this is not a common situation. in 6 years that you are neighbors you have created an incredible bond. not of best friends but you were, in the literal sense of the word there for each other.
when you just mentioned that you would need to make a major reform in your apartment, the next day he rang your doorbell and appeared with a big bag of tea boxes saying that he knew you couldn't go on with your day without drinking it for breakfast.
“because you know, you’ll be living with me for a while.”
and stupid romcom shit like that is what makes you fall in love with somebody.
you don't have enough courage to turn your face to him but you felt his chin gently touching your forehead.
“will you watch sonic 2 in the theaters with me?”
“you didn’t watch top gun with me.”
he’s definitely pouting.
“i’ll watch barbie and the 12 dancing princesses with you.”
you look up at him for a second with a large smile on your face. “will you really?”
“just say when.”
you’re certain the world stoped for you two tonight.
“pss”
he’s a child.
“hm?”
“are you okay?” and it’s implied on his tone what he meant.
“i am.”
silence.
“i really am.”
“ok.”
his hug tightens slightly and you feel his finger affectionately draw a circle on your back. suddenly you feel like crying.
“you’re going to stay on this hug for while.” he just let you know.
your forehead meet his neck.
“i don’t mind.” it comes out of you low like a breath.
in these 6 years you’ve been sure you were down bad for him for at least 4 of them. and never once you truly learned how to read him. sure, you knew when he was lying about silly things or trying to hide the fact he was exhausted from his work. or even when a bad mood was coming.
but not once he even blinked differently at you. so being head over heals for the boy became a familiar feeling accommodated in a little room in your heart. it didn’t hurt, it was just there.
that being said, it was your first night sleeping at peter’s apartment.
and he didn’t know you can’t sleep in total darkness.
“i can’t… i have a hard time sleeping without some light on.” just keep going “i have this moon shaped lamp in my room that helps me…”
he nods. maybe thinking about an answer.
“may i ask why?”
“i don’t know. something about the light makes me feel less alone? …it feels like it’s illuminating the dark paranoias out of my head.” you say the last part in a joking way but you’re not sure that’s how he interprets it.
silence involves both of you.
“did you know that a 20-second hug is good for the heart?”
“really?”
“yeah.” he’s very calm “i’m not gonna say you should’ve told me but i’m gonna say you could have.”
“i feel like a 14 years old when i talk about this.”
“hey, no.” you just know he’s frowning “not at all. someone’s discomfort or fear is never silly. don’t think like that.”
you nod.
“you know how absolutely terrified i am of small insects.” he says.
“me and the whole building.”
“so you better come when i shout or i’ll have to knock on mrs mulligan.”
“she’ll kill the bug then you. and right next to his body on purpose.”
“with no hesitation. and we don’t want that.”
he adjusts his body so you can be face to face.
your mind is at ease but you’re afraid he can feel your heart rate increasing.
“you’re not alone, y/n. not as long i live and breathe quite literally next to you.” he whispers.
then he gently rubs his nose on yours like it’s a common thing. oh.
you’re not sure what is happening but it’s very natural. you’re not nervous. it’s a great feeling. it kinda feels like he likes you the way you like him.
so you just go for it.
“did you know that a kiss reduces blood pressure? it prevents cardiovascular problems.”
“really?”
“probably. i don’t know”
he smiles. he’s really really cute when he smiles.
“what if i told you that i can test this theory?” he whispers so close to you that for a second you think he's not real.
"hm"
he bites his lower lip like he's fighting a smile. and that's the last thing you see before he kisses you.
a slow kiss. your hands traces his chest to his neck and gently caresses his brown hair. peter's arm pulls you impossibly closer to him while the other hand draws such gentle shapes on your neck that at the same time it makes you shiver, you melt on him.
he tasted like snickers. his tongue was warm and calm while danced with yours. you’re going to deduce and say that it was a very passionate kiss with a hint of longing from both parts.
when he pulls back from you after you don’t even know how long, he kisses your cheek.
“should i buy a saturn or moon shaped lamp for my bedroom?” he whispers and you smile.
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first love is a little foolish. dangerous when it’s also the last.
(english is not my first language so my sincere apologies. gwen didn’t die and they just broke up. life happens).
"getting married seem scary."
you walk with a slow pace without direction, just enjoying how beautiful the hotel garden is.
“perhaps” he answers.
“i mean they know each other since high school. we” you gesticulate and he lets out a small laugh “we actually watched their love grow during it. we were there so we know they will last. we know their love is real and true.”
“so you’re saying because we’re old now we won’t have that.”
he looks at you and you take a deep breath as if you were thinking about the answer that was on the tip of your tongue “yeah.”
the lightness in your conversation makes you not want to stop talking “no. i’m just saying that being an adult is just… too serious. i can’t help but feel childish using the word crush to describe someone i like.”
he tilts his head with a small smile on his face. he haven’t change one bit.
“you may have a point.”
“right???”
“but we can find true love as an adult… and we have the maturity and perception of the world that makes a relationships last.” he points to where the party was happening with his head “they were just lucky. and had time on their favor.”
"wise words.”
“i know you remember i was the top student of our class” you roll your eyes at his words.
a breeze hits you as if it wanted to show that it was listening to your conversation.
“i just really miss the simplicity of high school." the drink in your hand was starting to feel warm. you take a sip and feel the alcohol warm you up.
"it's a way to put it."
you lean against the wall outside the hotel. "you don't agree?"
"i didn't say that."
"but you have your remarks." you see an almost imperceptible smile on his face.
"it was simple because we didn't have to worry about reality so much. but i really don't miss being that emotionally vunerable. yikes" he grimaced.
he stops walking in front of you. he looks at the ground like he’s lost in his own head, as if he were thinking about the reason for saying what he said. it’s easy to come to the conclusion that he is the most beautiful man of the party. the most beautiful you've ever seen if you're being honest to yourself.
but like he said, let's not let our emotions speak louder.
"well some of us didn't date the most beautiful girl of the entire school at the time, parker" hearing his laugh takes you directly to 6 years ago, when you both were still in high school. "some of us were actually losers."
"you were not a loser." he protests.
"oh i was more than that. i was a nobody."
"that's dramatic." he looks at you with a teasing smile but with a gentle voice. something about this man makes you wanna tell him all your secrets and insecurities because you were sure he would never judge you or your choices. "i saw you."
"did you?"
"of course." he frowns lighly. "your headphones were like a part of you, an organ. you got angry very easily with your loose hair so you always ended up tying it. you had this keychain that always announced when you were getting close, and it was really sweet how you never once forgot to give me a good morning before bending down to your locker bellow mine."
if he had continued you were certain your eyes would have filled with tears.
"but you didn't really see me, did you?" you whisper.
his eyebrows rose lightly and you understood it as a sign of confusion. you would never see him again after today, so why not?
"i was too in love with you, parker."
one thing that haven't changed about him was that peter looked into your eyes while you talked to him. he pays attention to people. he listens.
"when you started skateboarding, i made a promise to myself to learn and buy one just so we could have that in common." you laugh a little, trying to distract yourself from the pressure of being watched intensely. "when you appeared with those bruises and black eyes from god knows what i felt i should talk to you, like maybe it would help. i always tried to distract you so you’d smile at least once during a tough day."
you really wish you had a bottle of champagne on your hand right now.
"i couldn't do much because... you know."
you couldn't look away from his tie but you were able to see him nodding. he was in a relationship for gods sake. a beautiful one.
despite everything, your head being like a hurricane of thoughts your racing heart and warm body, you smile. "you broke my heart, peter parker. but you were also the reason for it feeling lighter."
you confessed and yet the chocolate brown of his eyes was cozy. it's impossible not to like Peter Parker.
he takes a deep breath. the next few seconds are filled with an indescribable silence and it's almost as if nothing had happened.
in a slow movement he takes his hand to your free one. he takes it gently but doesn't make any more movements, just watches your hands interlocked.
"saving up to buy a skateboard. such a loser."
"ridiculous."
"and did you learn?"
"a little. but the uncertainty of not knowing if i wouldn’t just fall and die didn't let me learn completely."
he scoffs. "you're unbearably dramatic."
"i'm just saying you can fall from that thing and hit your head on the corner of a table. it’s so dangerous."
you hardly notice his thumb caressing in your hand. the butterflies in your stomach were making a mess.
jesus y/n you're an adult. what is this.
“i see you now.” his voice is so sincere that you can't divert your eyes from his.
“it’s the first time we see each other in 6 years, pretty boy.”
you don’t really know why your voices are so low. but it makes you feel like you’re in your own little world.
“and yet” he takes a step forward and a breeze hits you, as if she were encouraging the both of you. “you are childishly blushing right now.”
you lower your head, leaning your forehead on his shoulder. you don’t really know what to say anymore.
“it’s okay to feel nervous around a crush, lovely”
you silently laugh “you’re always so calm.”
“so you’re not hearing my heart going insane over there?”
with his free hand he raises your head until you find his eyes. mesmerizing.
his forehead meets yours. you could feel his thumb caressing your cheek.
and so he kisses you. a warm and slow kiss. it has a meaning though you can’t really understand it yet.
you feel a drop of water on your forehead but you take your time to slip up. there’s no rush.
he moves away and hugs you tight. your heart relaxes.
This is Eman Zaqout, from Occupied Gaza, Palestine. I am a Biotechnologist ,🩸💉 and scientific researcher contacting you at a really desperate moment.
Hello, my name is Nazin Fakak, and I live in Canada. Today, I am reachi… Mazin Fakak needs your support for Help my family survive famine an
I am seeking your assistance to raise funds for saving our lives, facing the starvation in Gaza and help me achieve my doctoral degree dream after being awarded OWSD PhD Fellowship for inspirational women.🍉👩🎓
Just like any motivated and loving life woman, and for years, I poured my heart and soul into my work at Al-Shifa Hospital and Turkish Palestinian Friendship Hospital, as Biotechnology Specialist serving cancer patients with compassion and skill.💪🤍
[ photos of Turkish Palestinian Friendship Hospital before and after the IDF destruction ]
[ photos of Al-Shifa Hospital before and after the IDF destruction]
I also gave medical lectures to students at different universities and training centers in Gaza👇☑
As a result of my outstanding grades in my study and the excellent performance in my job, I have been a holder of different scholarship and I am active participant in many research visits and scientific missions. 👩🔬The last scholarship as at McGill University in Canada three months ago before the starting of the genocide in Gaza.😥
However,😥
My life changed dramatically when Israeli military launched a sweeping war against Gaza. My home and our neighborhood in the North have been destroyed along with our belongings and precious memories early in this crisis.😭💔
My job and my husband's job are gone. Israeli military forced us to evacuate from the north Gaza to the south where they claimed it would be the safe zone but it is not at all. Our sweet home and neighborhood have been destroyed.
Forced to flee with nothing but the clothes on our backs, today, we find ourselves sheltering in a displacement camp lacking access to sanitation, medical supplies, food and drinkable water. I will not talk a lot about the dire and unbearable life we have to go through, as no word can express it fairly😔
The good news in the midst of this tragedy, that I am one of the 22 women from the developing world who have been awarded OWSD- PhD fellowship to pursue my PhD study in Malaysia🍉💪. But now I am stuck in Gaza unable to achieve my dream because Israeli army has occupied and closed all the border crossings 😭💔
Meet 22 fellows awarded OWSD PhD fellowship
This genocide has been more than a year of hell and horror. We have reached a point where there is no hope left for us here in Gaza, where we are unfortunately just waiting for our turn to die.
Nevertheless,
I refuse to succumb to despair, holding on to the belief that brighter days lie ahead.
With your kindness and generosity🥺, I hope to survive the genocide and reclaim the path to achieving my doctorate 💉🩸
Your compassionate aid would mean the world to me and my family.🥺🙏❤🇵🇸✌
Hello, my name is Nazin Fakak, and I live in Canada. Today, I am reachi… Mazin Fakak needs your support for Help my family survive famine an
