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hinatas-sunshine · 4 years

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Synopsis: The Boys seeing their significant other interacting with the other girls

Genre: Fluff

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this, sorry I’ve been writing a lot of Haikyuu but I’ll bring back my OG ppl hehe, requests are open! Feel free to send any! Kithes 🥺❤️

Kirishima:

• You were a transfer student and when Aizawa introduced you, you bowed and said a slight hello

• You had stolen his heart from the moment you smiled right at him

• you were smiling at everyone but let the poor boy dream

• Listen you were actually crazy psycho crackhead dumb but no one got to know that because they were busy watching you look normal from afar

• That was until Kirishima witnessed you, laptop on your bed, blanket over your head replaying the google man’s voice saying “y/n Clowns aren’t scary you just think a lot about the clown that chased you in 2016 and how he wouldn’t stop saying fetty was lyrics.”

• Yeah he was gonna pretend he didn’t see it

• But when he walked in to you dancing to your “bad b*tches only” playlist and you noticed him, screamed and then fell on your butt

“Oh so transfer girl has some moves.”

“My names y/n.”

“Y/n what?”

“Whats it to ya”

• He liked your spongebob references so you two became fast friends and next thing you know he’s asking you to “kermit to him” with a kermit the frog stuffed toy

• Once you two were together he was the only one who knew your cracktivities

• That was until the girls wanted to peek into your room to see what it looked like

• they all loved the vibe of your room and you invited them to stay!

• That night was the wildest girls night you had

• And they realized how crazy you actually were

“Mina if you don’t do a dance battle with me right now I swear I’ll cry I have some sick moves!”

• You didnt 🧚🏻‍♀️✨💞 stop trying 🙈✨☺️❤️

• They all loved you! And screamed at Kaminari for hiding you from them

• Now when he often saw you doing crazy things with everyone it made his heart happy you were fitting in

“Denki I’ll race you on a pool floaty down the stairs right now!”

“Y/n DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOURE ASKING FOR!”

“OI! NO DUNCE FACE AND SHITTY HAIR 2!”

• You, Denki and Kirishima were the idiots of 1-A

“Don’t put me in with those two idiots!”

“Y/n? 😔”

“No Kirishima I was just kidding 🥺!”

“Y/n 🥺👉🏽👈🏽”

“No I meant it for you Denki 😃”

Bakugo:

• The power you hold ✨

• Only person Bakugo with scream at and apologize to

• everyone was kind of scared of you and you didn’t know why but either way you stuck to creating cool things for your suit or making a cool gadget in your room

• Bakugo would come visit from time to time and you’d go to his room and just lay with him

“Make me something for my suit.”

“Not until you say please.”

“Tch fine then.”

• *walks in five minutes later*

“Please.”

• You had this boy wrapped around your finger and everyone knew it

“I don’t ever seen y/n, all she does is hang out in her room or hang out with Bakugo.”

“Shut up shittyhair! She doesn’t have time for you extras!”

• You did but you didn’t really bother to say anything because this certain piece of technology needed your attention

• One day there was just... nothing. Nothing for you to fix or build...

• So you went to the common room and saw the girls messing with a piece of technology and you couldn’t help but peek and see them looking into a bunch of wires

“Oh y/n! Do you think you could help us?”

• You looked at Uraraka and shuffled over nervously sitting on your legs studying the wires, bolts, everything before going to your room grabbing a piece of thin tweezers and fixing an unscrewed bolt

• All the girls eyes lit up at applauded, leading to a long talk about anything that came to mind such as how you knew so much about technology

“My mom used to be in the Support department, my dad wanted to be a pro hero before he risked his life, so I picked it up from my mom but wanted to save lives like my dad.”

• They all smiled and awe’d before Bakugo walked in and threw you over his shoulder, you huffed and waved at them letting him take you back

“What was that?”

“They needed help with something.”

“Oh... so... are you friends with them?”

“I don’t know I guess.”

• He nodded, he was happy for you but he’d never admit it to your face

“Are you jealous someone will take your place as my best friend?”

“Shut up dumbass.”

“Aye!”

“I’m sorry, I meant shut up.”

Todoroki:

• You are just as antisocial as him oh my gosh no one knows how you two ended up together

• In all honesty it was the lack of speaking and more of action, you two would just look for each other any time there was a group project, partner training or working together at all

• You two were just each other’s friend and it evolved into something more

• When you watched him and Midoriya at the festival you were extremely proud of him opening up

• You on the other hand had a lot of catching up to do

• The girls had managed to get you in a cheerleading uniform and they became obsessed with you but you were still too shy for your own good

• You remained with a small smile on your face when cheering

• Todoroki thought you looked so cute trying and attempting to make friends his heart went crazy

• After that day you began to notice him around Izuku and Bakugo

• Izuku said it’s okay to call him Deku like everyone else

“Okay Izuku.”

“Deku.”

“Sorry Izuku.”

• Poor boy felt to bad to correct you djwjnfownr

• Todoroki realized you were feeling a little down

“What’s wrong y/n?”

“I’m too shy for you own good..”

• He became determined to help you and although it didn’t work, someone else’s words got you to

“Eh? Y/n doesn’t even speak you half and half bastard how are you even dating her?!”

• You tapped on his shoulder

“I do speak!”

• You furrowed you eyebrows and walked away making it a mission to make one friend

• You ended up with Yaoyorozu, who agreed to have tea with you

“So how did you and Todoroki start dating?”

“We just always looked for each other, and it was nice, I guess I kinda found comfort in him.”

• All the girls aw’s were heard from behind the wall and Momo sighed making them come out, as they all did you giggled at them

• They were so happy you weren’t running away their Baby y/n is growing

• You all sat together and talked about everything, mostly you because they wanted to know more about you

“You’re saying you, y/n l/n, used to get in trouble for being TOO TALKATIVE?”

“Yes and I don’t know why!”

• Once you opened up they noticed you did talk a lot but they loved it

• Todoroki smiled at you from afar, he was really glad you were opening up

“Icy hot are you EVEN LISTENING?”

“No.”

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kiriluvbot · 3 years

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pros of shipping rare pairs: you have to make your own content, creative freedom, less ship wars

cons: you have to make your own content

so here i am, making my own content. also, manga spoilers ahead.

—

seroroki, post war arc, in the hospital

—

nothing felt real.

not the uncomfortable plastic seat beneath him, not the buzzing fluorescent lights overhead, not the ticking clock on the wall. most certainly not the school uniform clinging almost too tightly to his skin.

he was aware of every loose string of thread, of the sickly scent of sterilizer in the air, of the voices humming in tune with the lights. a door slammed to his left and he flinched.

“we can’t reach them, i don't know what’s going on—“

the battle against all for one and shigaraki ended only a few days ago, but it felt like no time at all and all the time in the world had passed. the number one hero, endeavor, had nearly been killed. half of hanta’s classmates were in hospital beds, unconscious or barely able to speak.

“endeavor, he—he’s down!”

the world had been turned upside down. hero society as everyone knew it was falling apart of the seams. heroes were dead. civilians. classmates. dead. cities were flattened, disintegrated or on fire. the very earth seemed to be crumbling.

“that—that thing. it’s coming this way. we have to move. sero—“

hanta sero wanted to be a hero. hanta wanted to be a hero dammit, but when the time came, what could he do? what could his quirk do? he was not strong enough, not fast enough, not smart enough. he applied to the best hero school in the world and trained until he felt like he was going to die and it was not enough.

the whole thing had felt like some terrible nightmare. the worst nightmare, worst case scenario, and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do about it. not as shigaraki during a whole city to dust, not as giantomachia flattened an entire forest, not as endeavor was knocked clear out of the sky. not as their friends lay on the ground dead or dying, not as civilians cried out for help under rubble, not as the bad guys slipped away like they were in no hurry at all.

“just—be careful out there, hanta. please.”

“sero, bub, come on.”

“come back to me in one piece. okay, shoto? promise me.”

a hand rests gently on sero’s shoulder. it makes him jump, immediately turning to search for the source. sero finds it’s just smiling kirishima, red hair down and framing his tired eyes. his heart races as another door shuts a little too hard.

“is it time?” sero’s voice sounds dry and foreign to himself.

“yeah,” kirishima replies. “let’s go see todoroki.”

the name alone is nearly enough to send sero buckling to the floor.

“shoto—where is he? why can’t i see him?”

“you need to calm down, kid. we’ve got everything under control.”

“tell me he’s going to be okay. tell me!”

sero is hardly aware of his own footsteps as a nurse leads them through a maze of blinding white halls. he’s numb and hyper aware all at the same time and it’s awful.

as soon as they’d gotten word that todoroki was awake, a small group consisting of sero, kirishima, satou, momo, and jirou left immediately to go see him. no word on bakugo yet, or midoriya. the three idiots dived head first into the worst of the battle. sero hadn’t known until hours later. he briefly recalls the dull look in kirishima’s eyes, how he merely clammed up and went silent. sero hadn't reacted quite the same. he only remembers falling to his knees, begging for answers.

not much comes to mind after that.

sero wishes now that he could see todoroki alone, that he could scoop him up and run away to some imaginary land where villains and heroes didn’t exist. where they could be safe.

he also considers turning tail and running back to his dorm and never leaving again. sero wasn’t sure how he could stand seeing todoroki in whatever state he was in—

“i am touya todoroki, the eldest son of endeavor.”

the flames, the smell of burnt—

the nurse leading them says, “his voice isn’t completely back yet, but he’s awake and doing well. just be careful, please.”

then the door opens. kirishima leads the way and sero finds he’s okay with that, because he’s quickly realizing that he’s not at all prepared. not even close.

shoto todoroki is leaned up on his bed, wrapped almost entirely in bandages. his baby blue hospital gown is too big for him; it dips off one shoulder. nearly his entire face is bandaged, his right arm, his chest too, it seems. what skin can be seen is dull, but his eyes are not. they shine with unshed tears that sero can see even from this distance.

“todoroki,” kirishima starts. “so glad to see you, man.”

the others chime in, smiling softly and hiding their hands behind their back, keeping a vice like grip on their self control. sero finds, for the first time ever, he can’t say a damn thing.

todoroki opens his mouth. the sound that comes out is horrible and broken, but he rasps out a simple hey, guys.

“you’re gonna need a full time translator,” kirishima jokes, and sero’s lip quirks despite the heaviness in the air.

and after a while, one by one, this little group dissipates. kirishima and sero are left, and then kirishima goes, too. his hand finds sero’s shoulder once more, and he shoots a see you later at todoroki before exiting.

and then it’s just them. sero and todoroki.

just like it’d been before this whole shit show started.

legs tangled, fingers entwined, promises made, confessions unsaid.

“hanta—“ that voice comes out again, raspy and shattered. “i—“

“you came back to us in one piece,” sero says, interrupting. “please don’t start to apologize.”

what he doesn’t say is: i didn't tell you before we left—i didn’t tell you because i was scared. and for a bit i thought i’d never see you again. for a bit i thought i was going to die. i thought you were going to—

sero sits on the bed, todoroki’s legs just barely a ghost behind him. this lighting makes him look paler than usual, makes his scar stand out, makes his hair look like fresh—

stop.

todoroki doesn’t even know where to start. he was sure he was going to die on the battlefield. he was sure he was going to die in dabi’s—no, touya’s arms. he was sure his brother was going to kill him.

when todoroki woke, all he could remember was the sheer terror he felt on that hill, his supposedly dead brother right in front of him, dancing like a mad man, laughing hysterically. it was like everything had been ripped out from underneath todoroki. he had become very unsure of everything he knew about himself, about his father, about his whole family at that moment. even more unsure than he’d been previously.

as much as todoroki wanted to deny it, wanted to scream that dabi was nothing but a meddling lunatic, the sensible part of him knew it was true.

endeavor may be number one hero but he had not succeeded at a single thing except making a monster out of his first born. the rest, well—you know how the story goes.

the truth made todoroki feel tainted, stained. it made him feel contaimniated and heavy and like maybe—maybe he should’ve let dabi finish the job. maybe, by killing shoto, touya would finally be free of whatever he had weighing on him. get rid of the thing that replaced him.

it had been on todoroki’s mind since he woke up. the truth would rage through the world like wildfire. endeavor would be scorned. shoto would forever been stuck in the shadow of his failures. he’d never be free—never—

sero grabs his hand.

sero watches as todoroki grimaces, turns his face away. he watches as todoroki starts to guard himself, starts to clam up—

todoroki pulls his hand free.

“sho—“

“you should go,” todoroki hisses. even as he speaks them, he regrets every word. it all comes out wrong and harsh, rough around the edges.

what he doesn’t say is: you’re too good for me, hanta. why can’t you see that? why can’t you see i’ll only ever weigh you down? my family’s a disaster, i’m a mess, and you’re—you’re you.

there’s a pause. the air is heavy. sero’s hand is cold. he watches as todoroki avoids his gaze, as more tears well in his eyes. nothing feels real.

“you—what?”

“hanta,” todoroki whispers. “go. please.”

and it’s like the world is ending, all over again. if he hadn’t been sitting, sero might have collapsed at the knees again. he wonders briefly if his ears need to get checked, if he heard him correctly, if the world really is ending.

and to make it so much worse, todoroki says, “you deserve better, dammit.” his voice barely raises a single octave. “don't want you getting dragged down because of me. ‘cause of my family.”

he says me like it’s poison on his tongue.

todoroki pulls into himself completely, pulling entirely out of sero’s orbit, leaving the room icy and feeling nearly empty. sero isn’t sure exactly what he’s feeling, but he knows it must be something close to anger. his brows knit together as he tries to keep a tight leash on his emotions, but sometimes even hanta sero loses control.

sero stands so fast his vision blurs for half a second. todoroki looks meek and small beneath him, hands clamped together, eyes dull and face wrapped up. sero’s heart beats all the way down to his toes, the room closing in on him slowly. it’s iciness seeps into his bones, fear and anger and confusion simmering in his veins.

“you’re out of your goddamn mind if you think i’m gonna let you shove me away so easily,” sero cuts out, ignoring the bewildered look on todoroki’s face. “i know you’re hurting, shoto. and i know you're strong, but you don’t have to do this on your own.” sero unclenches his fists but god, his chest feels tight. “we’re just kids, dammit! you don’t have to carry all this weight, just let me help you. let me be here for you!”

“hanta—“

“i’m here because i—“ you know, sho, i really— “because i care about you.”

the room seemed to shrink in that very short time period, sero’s chest heaving with all the things he didn’t say, all the things he wanted to say, all the things he wanted to do. he’d spent nearly every single day in the past year-ish by todoroki’s side, training, laughing, sharing manga. he’d grown close to someone who seemed so untouchable when he first met him. sero got to be there as todoroki brought down his own walls, came out of his own shell, became someone todoroki himself could be proud of.

and now this idiot wanted to push sero away? because he deserves better? because todoroki didn’t want sero to see the ugly truth of his family history? because todoroki thought he himself was too much for sero?

“just trying to protect you,” todoroki mutters, not daring to look away from sero’s face. not yet. “i’ll only—“

“don’t—“ sero snaps. “don’t say it. you know it’s not true. you know it isn’t.”

todoroki finally breaks eye contact, gaze dropping to his hands. his shoulders heave as he takes a shaky breath. if he could just get it into hanta’s thick skull that he hung the stars, that he was a god send, an angel on earth, that todoroki was unworthy and undeserving of someone like him—

todoroki doesn’t have time to reel in the tears as they start to fall. slowly at first, then all at once like the dam had finally broken. sero is at his side in an instant, like todoroki hadn’t just told him to leave, like todoroki didn't just try to make it obvious he’s undeserving of someone as kind and caring as sero. and here sero is, further proving that point as he sits carefully on the bed and gently takes todoroki’s face in his hands, fingers ghosting over bandages. the touch is searing and unbearable and not enough all at once.

“‘m sorry,” todoroki chokes out. “sorry, sorry. hanta—“

sero lifts todoroki’s face ever so slowly, and todoroki finally sees the redness of his dark eyes, the bottom lashes clumped together from a cry that might have happened just before he got here. todoroki can’t seem to get a handle on his own tears, can’t seem to reel in his uneven breathing, can’t seem to stamp out the shaking nerves dancing up his arms. grief rages inside him, grief and guilty and that same achy breaky loneliness todoroki hadn’t felt in so many months.

“please, shoto,” sero whispers, so close todoroki can’t even breathe. “everything is a mess right now but please. let me stay by your side. don't—“ his throat catches, “—don't shut me out, okay?”

“someday you’re gonna realize you don’t have to carry the weight of the universe all on your own, todoroki.”

“sero—“

sunset colors begin to pour in through cracked curtains, washing them in gentle warmth. sero’s gaze doesn’t waver, his touch doesn’t disappear. he’s light and he’s holy—pure and too kind. todoroki wraps hesitant hands around sero’s wrists, trying his hardest to reign in his tears. he lets their foreheads press together slowly, carefully.

promises are made, confessions stay unspoken. todoroki doesn’t let go, not again, not ever.

—

#seroroki #sero hanta #todoroki shoto #todosero #postwararc #my hero academia #mha #bnha #rarepair #angst #seroroki angst #keepingupwiththetodorokis #mha manga #mangaspoilers

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katsukisbeatingheart · 5 years

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if you would

for someone so smart he's kind of an idiot

word count: 2939

ao3

pt. 1!

“Bakugo—”

You breathed his name across your lips without even stopping to think first. Right on cue, as though he sensed you coming long before you’d even thought of calling out, the boy in question dropped whatever one-sided conversation with whoever, to cut around the corner and disappear into the bustling hallway.

It had been like this for what felt like weeks; one minute he was there, and the next—he was gone. The dance felt almost routine now, but you couldn’t say you were very fond of the tune in the first place. Keeping up with him was like trying to catch the smoke twisting out from a dying candle with your bare hands, and you were growing sick of getting burnt.

In all actuality, it had been a little over a week and a half since Bakugo spilled his guts, and he had been as sharp as ever. He was extra clipped with his classmates, and he downright refused to even look at you. You noted that the morning had already been cold to begin with, and as you watched him walk away, the more frigid it grew.

You let the flow of the crowd push you closer to your classroom, and once you neared it, you recognized the ‘whoever’ that had been prating to Bakugo, to be none other than Kirishima. The boy looked at you with the sweetest empathetic smile he could the moment he saw you. You already knew what was coming before he even asked, and to be honest you weren’t sure if you would even have an answer.

“You okay?”

There. There it is.

You’d been silently asking yourself that exact question—every night when you went to bed, every morning when you woke up, every afternoon when you went to lunch and spotted a bottle of hot sauce—and you still hadn’t come to any sort of conclusion. If anything you continually lied to yourself, fallaciously contented to reigning in your emotions despite putting up with rejections day after day, after day, after day.

Regardless, you nodded slowly, eyes glued to the spot Bakugo disappeared behind.

Suddenly you felt like you couldn’t lie anymore.

You gradually began to shake your head the more you stared.

“No… not really,” you sighed, “…but I guess this isn’t something that can be helped right now,” you gestured lamely, not sure what to say otherwise. You and Kirishima were good friends, you believed; you just weren’t sure how much Katsuki had revealed to him, and thus you didn’t know how much you should be saying either. Common courtesy to consider.

Though, if you knew Katsuki like you thought you did, he probably hadn’t said anything at all.

Eijirou exhaled harshly and thumped the back of his head against the wall he had been leaning on. As if reading your mind, his next words confirmed your previous suspicions.

“He hasn’t exactly said what happened. But based on his sour mood—I mean, more so than the usual—it didn’t go well.” He looked at you with a tentatively raised brow, “What exactly happened with you two?”

The uniform buttoned to your neck suddenly felt much tighter and your fingers flew to the collar to tug a little uncertainly.

“Just…” you decided the fewer details, the better, “a little misunderstanding.” Kirishima nodded at that, obviously not wanting to press it any further than you were comfortable.

He scratched at the back of his neck, clicking his tongue in dismay. “Not too difficult with him, really. And I wouldn’t ever call them little.” You snorted.

“Yeah no kidding… It’s just, he’s so stubborn and hot-headed, he won’t even give me the chance to clear things up.”

He paused at that, tapping his fingers to his chin before speaking. “You know, I don’t normally think it’s very cool to provoke people without a good reason—but it might not be the worst idea to fight fire with fire here,” Kirishima offered carefully. He knew he should say something, only he didn’t know what—he was sure you could figure what to do with that ambiguous bit of advice.

As he watched you for a reaction, he nearly recoiled in surprise when your face gradually began to light up. Your eyes suddenly sparkled with a new curious resolve, and Eijiro worried he might’ve just made a horrible mistake.

“Yeah…” You respired. “Yeah, yeah, yeah! That’s not a bad idea, Kiri. Thanks!” Patting his shoulder with a split second, brand new perspective, you bounded into the classroom—leaving Kirishima nervous about what he’d just done, and flustered over the new nickname.

Just after lunch, Mr. Aizawa had led his students to Gym Gamma, dressed in their P.E. uniforms and ready to begin training. Nobody knew what they were to be doing yet, but there was never a dull moment during afternoon classes.

You had been notably silent since this morning, and nobody could figure out what was wrong. Not for a lack of trying, though. After talking with Kirishima, you’d hurriedly taken your seat by the window, setting to work in silent deliberation.

Your classmates had noticed the change, and honestly your general disposition had a way of commanding the room—needless to say that left them a little disconcerted. Your friends were naturally concerned and confused, but they couldn’t do anything about it until the next recess.

Mina approached you first, and was immediately put off by your normally cheerful smile, now suddenly—well—off-putting. It had an eerie, devious glint that she was fairly certain was not directed at her, thank goodness. She managed to make some small conversation, which was unlike her usual boisterous self.

In the end, she was too scared to actually ask what was wrong with you.

Still, everyone was abuzz, as per usual, playing ping pong with ideas about what could happen with the rest of their day. They set aside the odd exchange of arguably the two most charismatic characters in class, and settled down to focus, even if it turned out to be simple, basic training.

“Alright. Today we are going to be focusing on simple, basic training.”

There was an exchange of glances, and you snickered to yourself. Mr. Aizawa’s eyes flashed and his hair flew upward, dropping back to his shoulders once there was silence. He continued:

“First, we will begin with warm-ups using the equipment we have provided by the school. Next, we’ll move on to combat. You will be separated into pairs in order to fine-tune your mobility, and physicality. Please avoid using your quirks during each of these exercises, as this is a chance to hone your fundamental skills.”

'Such normal school activities,’ you practically heard the class think.

The man finished with an indifferent drawl that contrasted the sharpness of his eyes. “Let’s go.”

–

The punching bag you had been watching from your place on the treadmill had taken quite a few harsh jabs from the boy behind it. You almost sneered, regarding how he was as adroit as ever—though why anyone would think he wouldn’t be, was absolutely ridiculous, you realized.

If anything, Bakugo was at the top of his game lately, and you were silently grateful he was channeling his anger into a healthy outlet—even if he was currently running from his problems with you.

Baby steps.

You stared a second more, screwing your face into one of decided determination. Pressing the arrows on the machine beneath you, you sped up, your heartbeat keeping near perfect time with the music thumping through your earbud. Kyoka, jogging along to your left and sharing your music, glanced at you peculiarly. She rolled her eyes after realizing why the sudden change, and all but doubled over laughing. How very typical of you two.

After a solid run with Jirou, you leapt off of the belt, telling her you were going to take a whack at the tear drop shaped bag on the other end of the room. She nodded and clicked her earjack from your adapter, and plugged it into her own phone. You gave her a little wave, and strutted across the gym floor, popping your earbuds fully in.

You sank into your own headspace, rolling to the balls of your feet when you stopped in front of the little black bag. Stretching your fingers as high as they could go, you let your limbs crackle. Your feet jumped into position, and you were lost in each thwack you delivered to the leather.

You didn’t hold back, and let your legs snap up in to some beautiful roundhouse kicks—if you’d say so yourself—in between hard raps of your knuckles.

Despite your focus, you could feel two beady little red eyes trained on your back. More than anything else, that pushed you even further.

You were bitter and didn’t mind giving a bit of a show.

Before you knew it, your solo session was over, and Eraserhead had called everyone—sweaty and pumped up—back to the center of the gym’s ground level.

“Next. Pairs.”

You’d realized sullenly that you’d only succeeded in working yourself up during your warm up—and not in a good way. That pre-workout was supposed to let off a little steam, only now you felt swelled to bursting. Your anger had reached well beyond the point of boiling. Chewing the inside of your lip, you pitied the person who’d be partnered up with you.

“—and Bakugo.”

Your attention perked embarrassingly quickly at his name. You’d zoned out and now cautiously registered the eyes glancing at you uncomfortably, pitifully, teasingly.

It took everything in you to wrestle a minacious grin off of your face.

Perfect.

You wondered if this was fate, in the shape of Mr. Aizawa messing with you. Maybe you were just that lucky. The angry huff and murderous slink in Katsuki’s walk disclosed just how real and messy this was about to get, and you couldn’t tell if the bubbling in the pit of your stomach was from excitement, or nerves.

–

You parried with your right, circling his forearm to take a grip just below his elbow. It was much bigger than you had anticipated, especially as he flexed against your straining fingers—but you were too willful to let that intimidate you.

Your limbs shook, and just when you felt like he might get the better of you, your left knee pulled into his torso, landing a nauseating blow to his center of balance. Firmly planted to the ground, your right foot struck outward, sweeping his legs out from under him. In a split second, he was on the ground, staring up at you as though he hadn’t expected this—when really, he knew he should’ve. After the initial shock wore off—rather quickly, as he was never one to stay down while he could still breathe—he moved. Though you were acting fast, he reacted faster.

He shoved himself off of the ground and leapt at you, barely containing a full on roar. You didn’t hold back, and growled with all of the pent-up frustration you had been feeling the past few weeks. Once again in another quick moment, you tackled him, bringing him with you as you pulled into a somersault.

You tumbled and rolled to a stop, atop the now heaving boy, his chest rising and falling beneath you. You pressed your fingers and then palm of your left between his pecs, taking gulps of much needed air. Lolling your head backward, your nose stinging with uneven breaths, you shut your eyes and drank in the small victory.

Katsuki said nothing—even as you straddled him—taking the moment to catch his breath. You felt the heat at your already burning thigh muscles warm, though, and you drew your attention back to his face. He was glaring at you again, and because he looked at you down his nose, you couldn’t tell whether the red in his cheeks was from exhaustion, or embarrassment.

“Bakugo Katsuki,” you murmured, maintaining the overwhelming preeminence you’d shown, even at so low a tone.

'Anger enunciating,’ he mused. Bakugo knew better than to open his mouth when he heard you say his name like that.

“Do you have any idea—any clue—how awful I’ve felt this entire week and a half?” You articulated sharply. “I have cried myself to sleep more this week than the month’s quota and I have had enough.”

At this, Bakugo’s eyes snapped open, flicking to your face with a sense of righteous anger. You were the one who turned him down; why should he have to listen to this?

He leaned forward, mouth agape and ready to bark at you for saying something like that to him after all that had happened, when you shoved your right index finger to his lips.

Storms could be raging the roof right off their heads, and Katsuki was sure none of that would matter right now. You were both mad, and it made him even angrier to silently admit to himself that you had him wrapped tightly around that little finger. He froze, positively transfixed more in this moment than he previously had ever been in his life, he was sure of it.

“You will let me finish and you will listen to me, Bakugo Katsuki.”

He stared unblinkingly, aghast at your unusual brusqueness. Still, he wouldn’t dare say anything now.

“You’ve ignored and shut me down at every turn and gone to great lengths to avoid me altogether—all because you’re set on pitying yourself over nothing.”

The boy pulled his eyebrows together, now quite unsure of himself and where this was going.

“Katsuki Bakugo, I love you,” you snarled. “I have been in love with you for months now and you didn’t even spare me three seconds before you let your pride get ahead of you.” A flush of emotions flooded his expression. Shock, confusion, frustration; it was overwhelming to watch. This time you were sure the furious blush was embarrassment as he finally gave a childish huff, and looked away from you with a small ’tch’.

His words were small, set under his breath, but they made you feel a little more weightless. “Why didn’t you just say so, dumbass?”

Your shoulders slumped in relief and you weren’t sure how it was possible that you were vexed and exultant at the same time.

“Did you ever consider that I was, I don’t know, maybe flustered? Insecure?”

You paused to fling your hands around you, trying to gather your thoughts before you spoke.

“Just try and imagine,” you began with a deliberate press to his skin,“ what it’s like to find out that the guy you’d been harboring a crush for—he’s a grumpy, hand grenade of a person—tells you that he wants to go out with you—and that he likes you—when you’d spent months cowering away from your feelings yourself.”

“I’d say they’re a fucking idiot.”

Your face contorted into one of absolute frustration, though you couldn’t help but get lost in the roguish glint now occupying his eyes.

You let yourself fall forward, dropping your forehead to his chest.

“Katsuki,” you drawled in a puerile whine. Without missing a beat, an equally vexatious grin slipped up your lips. “You still got scared and wouldn’t let me get a single word in.”

Katsuki’s cheeks colored a darker red and he huffed the huff of a besmirched bull. His menacing glare was not so menacing anymore, knowing he was putting on a show of pride.

“I was not scared,” he said, recognizing how much he actually had turned tail and run any time you ever came near. Considering even before this entire ridiculous mess. “I don’t waste my time with people who aren’t going to give it their all.”

“You’re ridiculous. And you’ve already used that line.”

“Well it’s my fuckin’ line and I can do whatever the hell I want with it.”

“Be a little more original!”

Katsuki licked his lip tantalizingly, briefly biting the inside for good measure.

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

He had languorously inched upward, raising a self-satisfied smirk to your leveled, smoldering eyes. The challenge slipped off of his tongue like a second language, and you were quick to pick it up.

You felt every shift, every peel of the draggled uniform you wore, as your head angled to his. Every inch of your skin gravitated to him and you took note of the way you melded with him so easily.

You were chest to chest. A thunderous roar of blood pounded in your ears and you were positive he must’ve heard the sound of your beating heart. Definitely felt it.

You were close, so, so close and then—

You grabbed his shoulders, leaping into a full back-spring right off of your boyfriend.

’Boyfriend. Huh.’

You felt like a giddy child.

With a pivot of your heel, you dropped into a street stance—open hands and a shifting weight that very clearly said ’come and get it’, no matter how harmless you tried to look.

“Don’t think I didn’t see what you were doing with that punching bag—nobody starts with that many roundhouse kicks just for a warm up,” he growled lowly, remembering the delectably provocative view he’d had. Katsuki Bakugo had to fight away the fantasies of you in his head, and for once he was more than delighted to admit he was losing.

“You’re going to have to earn it,” you teased.

He rushed forward, quite ready and willing to take very particular frustrations out on you.

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katsukisbeatingheart · 5 years

Text

if you want

· - - - -

he has a bit of a difficult time being patient.

word count: 2143

a03

pt. 2

It was a little untoward but did as good a job as any.

A blush burst like confetti in a rage rash across his cheeks; and if you didn't know any better, you'd think the mighty Katsuki was actually maybe a little embarrassed.

"Well?"

He shifted in his place, trying—and failing—to maintain a façade of a complacent blasé boy just casually asking out a close friend.

"Close" was a bit of a stretch for you. Yes, you found him quite brash and obnoxious and a little insensitive; but you couldn't deny what he meant to you. At least, you thought highly of him, and you were sure you could tell him anything—but you weren't positive that was reciprocated.

Was he one of your best friends? Yes.

Would you even dare to ask him how he felt about you? No.

You! Didn't! Want! To! Ruin! What! You! Had! It had taken what seemed like ages for him to finally warm up to you, without, like, actually exploding—and if you think you'd run the risk of watching that go down in flames? You considered yourself an idiot.

However, unbeknownst to you—Katsuki thought you were the world. If he could put it to words and send them out through that angry trap cursing everything to hell—he'd say you were a force of nature. A worthy rival, a trusted partner, and a kind and wonderful friend.

Except all he's got are angry bees and a tornado in his brain, at all times. As such, anyone he admired, he felt the need to challenge. On all levels physical, he planned to annihilate them. Which wasn't necessarily the case, well, in your case.

Although, there were—a few physical levels— He shook that thought away. That's an idea for a later date. The blush flared. 'Much later.'

But really, he loved provoking you. Only because you're so cute and intelligent and warm and messy—so, so messy—and he got a serious kick out of that. You're complex and human and alive. Despite your faults, you refused to let anything stop you in the end game—you refused to let that keep you from what you wanted. He watched you grow, and evolve and adapt to those weaknesses, and suddenly the line between strengths and not began to blur. He even dared to call you one of his personal heroes.

Thankfully for him, no one in the class noticed for the longest time.

Unsurprisingly, Kirishima was the first.

Bakugo would casually watch you walk into the room, head in his hand, eyes trailing each step you took. A silent Ejirou, sitting beside his best friend minding his own business, would look up startled—at the now fuming boy with a hand to his temple, or rubbing the back of his neck.

"You alright there, man?"

"Stomachache."

The dear boy would stare on in confusion, but keep to himself—a man's business was his business. Puzzled, he witnessed Katsuki all but sprint out the door, noticeably more red than his usual complexion. Then, minutes later, Katsuki would return, smelling notably more of burning sugar, and looking like he'd run maybe half a mile. Kiri wouldn't question it. Until, after that, across the room you'd laugh at something Denki or Ochacko had said, and Bakugo would stand right back up again.

"What's wrong?"

"It's back again." And that'd be the end of that.

It became a reoccurring thing throughout the weeks, when finally—bewilderdly—Kirishima would come to the conclusion Katsuki had been stubbornly avoiding. He popped the question a few weeks later.

"You like someone, don't you."

Class had taken a recess, and his best friend took the liberty to gravitate toward him with a pencil and notebook in hand to work on an upcoming assignment—hopefully without being disturbed, which already wasn't happening.

Bakugo's whole body twitched. "I– you– what– you weirdo what is that supposed to mean?"

Kirishima blinked owlishly at his friend. He wasn't sure what to say next, as he honestly didn't think he'd get this far.

"Well... you've been acting kinda strange lately... around someone in particular..."

Bakugo raised his eyebrows defensively. He hoped that did a good job of masking his expression, because he suddenly had a pretty good idea as to where this was going.

"Well, I mean..." Kirishima dragged a path along with his eyes, coming to a stop at an angle, gazing at you covertly through his lashes. Katsuki rolled his eyes, trying really hard to keep his heart from racing anymore than it already was. He pointedly looked back down at his paper, a tighter grip on his pencil.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Eijiro couldn't keep a grin from crawling across his smug face.

"Oh, but I think you do."

After that, the secret couldn't keep to itself and the rest of the class began to trickle into the loop. Much to the surprise of everyone, they weren't all that surprised because they thought you're quite wonderful. But Katsuki? And a crush?

He couldn't help it; the guy seriously respected you.

With all of the determination rivalling theirs to become professional heroes, the class set to work on making this happen. They split up and rearranged classroom chores, made up excuses as to why they couldn't make it to study sessions where you and Bakugo attended, and shut out any outside obstacles—curfews, misplaced lunch seatings, Mineta.

"Oh, no, it's okay! You go ahead, I've got this," you chirped, in a positively upbeat mood. It was so absurdly warm, Kaminari felt guilty about moping the entire day to get out of his after school tasks. He'd managed to convince you he had a sick baby bird at home to tend to, before having to return to the dorms later tonight. Of course, that was a lie.

'It's for a good cause. It's for a good cause. It's for a good cause. It's for a good cause.' Denki knew he was a simpleton; but he'd be damned if he didn't have his moments.

"Are you sure? I'd really hate to trouble you, ya know," he offered, conjuring his best solicitous veneer, silently hoping he wasn't overdoing it now.

"No, yeah! Go on ahead; I heard you mention you had some personal things to take care of—you sounded really stressed about it." Denki had to will himself from openly clutching his chest and bursting into tears.

'Attentive and kind as always! I would expect nothing less of you.'

He opened his mouth to reply with something a little more heartfelt, but the burning gaze of Mina—probably stealthily situated peering through the windows facing the hall—stared holes into the back of his head. Kaminari's mouth snapped shut, and he took that as his cue to bounce. "Great! Awesome. Noice, thank you—" he rambled in an absolutely-not-guilty-at-all lilt. At the door though, he paused, throwing a suggestive smile over his shoulder, "—you kids have fun."

You wrinkled your eyebrows, not yet having received the eight new text messages from your other friends, conveniently busy with their own matters, as well.

After a while, Katsuki came to realize that this dancing around his feelings business was getting to be a little old. He felt pathetic, ordinarily used to tackling things head on. It took some serious convincing, on his part—but he knew what he wanted.

He tried small things, at first—microscopic, all considered, but this was Bakugo. Katsuki began propping doors open for you to pass by if you were walking together, like a real gentleman would.

He dropped snacks by your desk;"You forgot your money again, didn't you, dumbass?"

Always kept an extra water bottle on hand with your name on it; "Don't need you passing out during class, idiot."

He even gave you a little star sticker he had "found" on his way back from an orthodontist appointment; "It was stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I don't want it, you take it." It was in too perfect condition for that to be true.

By then he felt silly, recognizing that this probably wasn't going to be enough to get his point across; even if his friends, at least, noticed the small attempts (trying very hard to keep their mouths shut, all the while).

Katsuki didn't know where the fire was, but eventually he'd had enough of himself. This was going to happen, and it was going to happen today.

After an afternoon of mulling and seriously suppressed grins, Bakugo approached you with an imperceptibly wavering stride. He could launch himself into the heat of a fight no problem, but Katsuki Bakugo was not perfect—no matter how arrogant and prideful he was to admit that.

"Hey. Come practice with me."

You blinked in surprise, running your fingers along the hem of your uniform almost self consciously. It was nearing the evening, and you'd figured he would've joined everyone in studying back at the dorms.

'Although, I suppose sparring is a form of studying,' you reasoned with yourself.

'But... why me?'

He brought you to a secluded clearing, amongst the woodlands surrounding the campus. It wasn't so deep in as to hide evidence, but it was free enough from prying eyes and ears—he made sure of that, with a totally justified menacing promise on his classmates' lives. The overhang of leaves, swooping branches, and glistening waters—complete with lil frogs leaping amongst the moss—made this probably one of the best places he could think of for this exact situation. It was definitely the most fairy tale thing he had ever seen, which said a lot—his mother had dragged him and his father to TDL on many an occasion when he was a child.

Of course, he supposed it was just his stupid, newly developed romantic bastard brain romanticizing everything.

Setting the scene was the trick—because if that had gone wrong, then this would've been glossing near "patronizing", and would probably be much closer to a threat. In a way, you wryly wondered if it really was.

"Hey," he nearly barked. "Anyone home?"

You'd been standing in a silent stupor long enough for Katsuki to grow nervous-impatient. He'd put his hands in his pockets and kicked a little bit at the ground beneath him, trying to maintain some sense of calm. The glower in his eyes gave him away.

Your lips popped open in a fish face motion as you grappled for your words. "I–I– I'm really– I–" Your tongue stumbled over itself. Katsuki gave you an expectant look and you felt your cheeks turn a brand new shade of red.

"I just– I can't– I don't–"

You tried so hard, trying to find the right words. They stubbornly refused to appear, wrestling with each other in the deepest part of your gradually dizzying consciousness. Your hands trembled, waving around aimlessly, making a point you hadn't even begun to form yet.

Bakugo suddenly felt as though he had hit a wall. An invisible one, because this was exactly the thing he was trying to avoid. It grated at his ego and he was slowly getting more and more agitated, his deepest insecurities writhing under his skin. You stuttered and gestured, wringing your slicked palms on your clothes.

After a long, silent moment, his face fell into a stone cold stare you'd never seen directed at you before. It morphed from uncertainty, to a grimace you associated with catching a bad smell, and into an equable scowl. Your heart thumped to the pit of your stomach.

A forcibly steady breath through the nose. "Fine."

He straightened his posture.

"I get it."

The dark look stared down at you, something you were sure was one of his special moves. "It's whatever. It doesn't matter, anyway." Except it did.

Your eyebrows knitted, your pulse quickening. "Katsuki, I– that's not–"

Biting back a sneer, Bakugo seethed through his teeth. "Save it," he hissed. "I don't want to fucking do this if I'm the only one giving my all."

The shock that came to you is what you assumed being struck by lightning felt like. You wanted to laugh, and tell him that was such a Katsuki thing to say in a situation like this; but he was already stomping away, taking strides to double yours.

"Katsuki, wait!" You called out, feeling coming back to your legs, and made to move in after him. "Katsuki!"

His silhouette gradually disappeared into the leaves that had initially felt so welcoming, like they promised something.

You went as quick as you could, mindful of the roots and pockets of earth at your feet.

As Bakugo slid out of reach, his words were a deafening whisper in the hushed world around you.

"Just—leave me alone."

{a/n: hello!! i have this split up bc i wanted to write a few more scenes under the same premise... plus!! having something extra to do gives me a little more motivation & inspiration to make new things; thanks for reading<3}

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