Talking To People About Colorguard

I'm in love, I want giant blue man 💙💙

Charming Killer: 2

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Pairing: Neteyam x reader

PART ONE

Summary: Neteyam confronts his fears of the scientists compound in his attempts to reach you. He’s all over you the second he see’s you and while you don’t really know what he’s saying it doesn’t fail to have an effect on you.

Warnings: I basically turned him into a cat unintentionally. 

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: I did not proof read this very well cause I was working on multiple fics then realised I had nothing to post! She’s as good as it gets rn kids sorry.

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Yes. Manhandle me like a sack of potatoes I deserve it 🫠🫠🫠

husband of the year ☆ ( prohero!katsuki x reader ) — in your defense, who would've thought he would barge in while you're at work? clearly not you.

The TV was broadcasting and heatedly narrating Dynamight's current Villain-of-the-Week takedown when your co-worker, Yaeko whom you remember by her pin-straight waist-length hair and delight in a bunch of hearsay, taps on your shoulder for attention.

"Mm?" you murmur distractedly, incapable of tearing your eyes away from how the camera has easily captured the swift fluttering mid-air, even if just barely. No ordinary person could keep up with the force that is Bakugou Katsuki.

"Ayane-chan clocked out early."

"Did she?"

Yaeko settles on the plastic chair on your right, watching the #1 Pro Hero absolutely pulverize the villain with the most elegance, Bakugou style. She doesn't take it in with the same rapt. Doesn't hold her breath or tighten her grip on her knees, not like you.

"Her husband picked her up. They're having dinner," Yaeko sings, then sighs dreamily. "Oh, if only mine would pick me up with a nice, sleek car."

The villain finally registers he's clearly overestimated his plan for victory and starts begging for mercy. Dynamight appears too distracted to even feel victorious about it.

"That would be nice," you agree, though you're not really sure what she's saying anymore as Dynamight takes the last win. His expression looks off — far away.

'And once again, #1 Pro Hero Dynamight proves why he's at the top, breaking his last three-minute record! Looks like he'll be securing this year's ranking as well.' The reporter gushes like it's some Olympic Sport. Dynamight would grin like a fucking bastard, too, usually, but not today, it seems.

"How come I never see your husband?" Yaeko asks all of a sudden.

"That would be no good," you say, chuckling. "He's busy enough as he is."

Yaeko appraises your assured smile. "Hm. Is that what he says?"

The reporter continues gushing, "And he flees the scene in a signature Dynamight hit-and-run. He might be off to save another city; who knows!"

"That's what everyone says, really," you say cryptically, moments later. You wonder why Dynamight looked so distracted. It wasn't like him.

In the immediate silence that follows, you spare a glance at your co-worker. Yaeko looks thirsty for prying, but as soon as her shoulder comes in contact with yours, she rears back with a gasp.

"You're still sick!" she admonishes, not unlike in the tone a mother hen if they could speak and grip both your shoulders. "I was wondering why you even came today when you were all but dying last night."

You jerk away. "I was just feeling a little feverish. Nothing too bad.”

Yaeko clicks her tongue. The chair slides back as she pushes off to get water from the dispenser near the TV. The reporter drones on about how fortunate they were to witness the Pro Hero in broad daylight, followed by the dispenser's buzz.

"Your husband let you out like that?" she asks.

"He doesn't know," you murmur shamefully.

Yaeko appears unimpressed, holding the cup to your lips. You sigh and move to keep the glass yourself, feeling a little petulant about it.

Commotion begins to pick up in volume from outside, muted by the walls. Yaeko pays no mind to it, but your hair picks up on its ends. When there's a stifled sound of explosion, you understand why. The news moves to a different topic, though it seems that the headlines made its way to you himself.

"Shit. Hide me, Yaeko-san. Please."

Yaeko frowns. "What? Hey, don't move so much."

The door slides open and presents the #1 Hero himself, sweating and seething and still looking like a dream. He has to twist his upper body, the door for ordinarily built men unable to accommodate his solid, beefy arms.

"You," he growls, eyes blazing.

"Noo." You shield your face with the crook of your arm, but there isn't a single wall in the world that Dynamight can't break through.

Behind him, the security guard emerges and looks rightfully guilty. He makes a gesture of 'I tried, sorry. It's up to you now.'

He grips your elbow and pushes it out of view until your face is bare, and you're witness to his very, very angry face. "I told you not to punch in for work."

He did say that. "Uhh…"

"You went all," He pitches his voice somewhere obnoxiously high, "'Don't worry, baby, I won't!' — we lyin' to each other now?"

You did also say that.

"Baby?" Yaeko whispers to herself, stunned.

Dynamight scowls, ripping his glove out to press it on your forehead, his skin ice-cold. You wonder if this is how the villain from earlier felt, though maybe with a little less arousal at the sight of his eyes. "Fuckin' idiot," he mutters under his breath.

"D-Dynamight, sir," Yaeko pipes up, looking shell-shocked, "please unhand my co-worker."

"Ha? You the one who asked this idiot to clock in?"

"No." You shield Yaeko's terrified expression with your hand. "No, she didn't. I did it myself."

"Yeah, 'cause you're a dumbass on your own," he says, and now the familiarity of bickering feels more like your Katsuki in the walls of your home. Your husband, who seriously came all the way here after kicking some ass. Katsuki turns to Yaeko. "Tell your boss we're leaving. Don't call."

And he pulls you up and drags you off. You half-expected him to throw you over his shoulder, but his neck brace might dig into your side painfully, and Katsuki has already considered it despite his boiling anger at your disobedience.

"Katsuki," you whine, heating up at the stonished staring while you're tugged off into the exit. "Did you really fly all the way here just to kidnap me home?

"The hell's with that," he snaps. "I'm clocking out for the day 'cause I'm not stupid like your stupid ass."

"Katsuki!"

"'sides," Katsuki gives you a long look over his shoulder, and oh, is this what he was thinking about the entire time? Your heart does a bit of somersaulting. "Who else is gonna take care of you?"

Yaeko can keep her nice, sleek cars. Nothing beats this.

I keep clicking on tiktok like it's all just a bad dream 💀

Crying cause I had a draft that was a quarter way done and it disappeared

I'm reposting this before I even read it because i'm excited about it but have work So I want to be able to find it later

TITLE: do you still think about me?

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.

You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.

You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.

(It's not fine.)

TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers (being generous with that friends label lol), fluff, pining, eventual smut

The ryokan’s lobby is bustling, voices a soft buzz echoing through the space. Some guests are like you, waiting for check-in, and other guests are partaking in the complimentary drinks and snack bar. It all calls to mind vacations you went on with your family, growing up. 

Sighing, you sink into an armchair, letting the fatigue from a long trip on a train and subsequent car ride sink in, shed off. 

“Here,” Rie says, setting a cup of tea and a cookie on the table in front of you. She sits in the chair across from you. “You’re grumpy because you haven’t had any sugar today. Eat these. There’s more up front, at the snack bar.” 

“Thanks mom,” you say, and she leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You wince. 

“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you can get away with your sass. Especially while we’re on vacation,” she tells you, then lifts her own cup of tea to her lips. You scrunch your face up at her. 

Her eyes flick past you, and she blinks rapidly. You recognize that expression—up to no good. 

“Oh hey,” she says, affecting a casual tone. “Look who just walked in.” 

Rie waits for you to look, but you’re not so easily led around. You narrow your eyes at her. She raises a brow at you. A moment passes. 

Your curiosity’s too strong. You turn and regret it. 

It’s Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki. What the hell is he doing here?

You immediately swing back around, scowling deeply. You can feel your ears getting warm. 

She gives you a Cheshire grin, finger gunning you. “It’s your first love.”

“Rie, I will leave.” 

She scoffs. “Yeah, right. And miss out on the massages we booked? The onsen? I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” you say darkly. 

She snickers, tilts her head at you. “You don’t want to say hi?” 

“Not really, no,” you say. “And if you call him over, I’ll kill you. Hanta will be sad, but he’ll get over it.” 

Rie laughs. “I don’t know about that. He is dating me, after all.”

“I’ve known him longer. He’ll forgive me.” 

The two of you switch over your attention to an approaching receptionist. 

“Thank you so much for waiting,” he says. “Your room is ready now. Please follow our staff. We’ll take care of your bags.”

You let them take your luggage, too distracted by staying out of Bakugou’s line of sight to pay attention to the small talk the receptionist’s making. Thankfully Rie’s chatting cheerfully with him, leaving you to your task. 

As you enter a hallway leading off the lobby area, you catch a last glimpse of Bakugou. He’s speaking to a staff member at the front desk area, presumably checking in. He’s alone. You wonder if anyone will be joining him, or if he’s here by himself. 

Shaking your head, you push away those thoughts. It’s none of your business. This ryokan’s rather large, and it’s popular with tourists and locals alike. You doubt you’ll see him again during your stay. 

You stare doubtfully at the email Sero forwarded you, then look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Hanta, this is a luxury onsen ryokan. And you want me to go with Rie? Why aren’t you going?”

Sero claps his hands together in front of his face. “Please? The agency denied my time off request because we’re so busy. You gotta know how busy we are, even holed up in your office.” 

You frown at him. “The agency denied you? That’s crazy. You haven’t taken time off the whole year.” 

“I know, right? Anyway, Rie doesn’t want to go alone, and the reservation at this place is only valid for so long. Cancelling’s not an option.” 

You frown. “If they denied you, they’ll probably deny me too, Hanta.” 

“Noooo, it doesn’t hurt to put in the request! Plus, you haven’t gone on vacation in years. Treat yourself! This can be my months-in-advance birthday gift to you.”

You try one last time. “Are you sure Rie even wants to go with me? I know you want this to be a surprise, but maybe you should ask her if there’s anyone else she’d want to go on a trip with.”

Sero gives you a look, as if you’d just said something unbelievably stupid. “I’m not even going to respond to that.” 

You snort, smiling. “Alright, alright. Thanks, Hanta. I’ll take all the pictures of Rie and send them to you if the agency does grant me the time off.”

Sero slings an arm around your shoulders. “Thanks, bud.” 

“I miss Hanta,” Rie says, collapsing on her back onto the bed. 

You push both of your bags to the side, to be unpacked later. The entire far wall of your room’s lounge area is glass, with a door leading out to the outdoor area and open-air bath, and you give in to your urge to step outside onto the wood, deck-like floor. 

The bath rises from the floor to your right, rectangular, spacious. The staff member told the both of you it’s fed from the onsen, and the steam it’s giving off dissipates into the cool spring air. The bath and deck are built to overlook a large pond with koi swimming in it, giving the impression that where the deck ends the water begins. The far side of the pond is lined with trees and shrubbery. Wooden partitions on either side of this area enclose the space, giving it a sense of privacy. 

It’s absolutely gorgeous. And it’s so quiet here. Aside from the ambient water sounds from the onsen on the property, birdsong from the nearby forested area, there’s little to interrupt this emerging feeling of serenity. 

“You saw him literally before we left,” you say. “Rie, come out here and look at this view. I call dibs on using the bath first.” 

“You could be more sympathetic. We haven’t been able to see each other much this month,” she grumbles, but she comes out to join you anyway. 

“Okay, you can use the bath first,” you tell her. 

She grins at you, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Thanks, friend.”

“The things I do.” You don’t really mind. You have the entire long weekend to enjoy this place. The peace and quiet are already doing wonders for the tension in your shoulders.

A twinge of guilt passes you in a wave. After the staff member who’d escorted you to your room had given you both a short tour of the space, it really hit you how expensive this all was. 

“Rie, you really should’ve come here with Hanta,” you tell her, frowning. “He should’ve pushed for the time off or adjusted the reservation. This is way too nice of an experience to pass up.”

Rie snorts. 

“Don’t stress,” she says. “You think he didn’t try all that? It was either keep the reservation with someone else or lose out on a lot of money. I wanted you to come, so don’t overthink, silly.”

You lean your arm against hers. “Thanks, Rie. I’ll get you and Hanta something nice for your birthdays.”

She hums, and the two of you lapse into silence, appreciating the birdsong, the late afternoon sun gilding the pond, the surrounding trees in warmth. 

“So, what’s up with you and Bakugou?” Rie asks. “I thought you worked out all those feelings for him back in high school.” 

And there goes all that peace. You groan, turning and heading back inside, grabbing your bag and starting to unpack your clothes. Rie follows you, sprawling out onto your bed this time to be as annoying as possible. 

“I did,” you say, because not answering would result in incessant pestering. Better to nip this conversation in the bud so it doesn’t come back up again while you’re on this trip. You tell her, “We’re cool. You know that. You go to the same get-togethers.”

Since graduating from UA, you’d kept in touch with Sero, who you’d met because he’d been the hero you’d been assigned to for the management course’s third year project. You became good friends, as Sero’s one of those good boys, best boys, genuinely kind and fun to talk to. 

Through your friendship with him, you’d met some of his friends—Kaminari, Kirishima. Mina, Sato. Bakugou. 

While you’d befriended the others pretty easily, Bakugou was a different story. And it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He’d chilled out considerably by your third year.

It was because of your cringey, super obvious crush on him during your first year. 

You were so painfully obvious about it, everyone in your class knew. It didn’t take long for kids in the other courses to take notice. When Bakugou entered a room you were in, you would freeze and forget what you were saying. You’d sneak glances at him, and your entire body would warm up if your eyes met. Even thinking about it now, as an adult, makes you want to die a little.

Thankfully, whether it was because he chose to willfully ignore you or because he just never found out, your crush ran its course. It helped a lot that you began interacting with Bakugou within social circles because of Sero; it humanized him, made him real to you. The fantasy of a crush can’t survive knowing someone, getting to know them, you found. 

Still, probably because of that history, you never got close to Bakugou, while at UA and after. You were too embarrassed, and now you’re just not super interested. If you don’t count this past year, since graduation, you’ve seen him only a handful of times, always in passing and never one-on-one. 

But if you do count this year, specifically the past six months, you’ve seen him a lot. 

At a get-together at Mina’s place. At Todoroki Shouto’s birthday a couple months back. At a dinner with Rie, Sero, Kirishima, and Mina a few weeks ago. You figure he’s had some free time open up, to accept the hangout invites that he once left unresponded to in the group chat. It’d make sense, since he’s at this ryokan when everyone knows he’s a workaholic. 

You’re happy for him. Work-life balance is super important. And you guys aren’t getting any younger.

“No, you guys are weird together,” Rie says. 

You throw a pillow at her. To your annoyance, she catches it easily. 

“What do you mean by weird?” you ask.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. He always looks like he’s bitten into a lemon when he sees you.”

You roll your eyes. “Great. Can we stop talking about Bakugou now?” 

“Last question, I swear.” 

“Last question for the entire trip about him,” you say, narrowing your eyes at her. 

She sighs, as if this is a huge burden on her. “Deal. I was just thinking—what did you even see in him when we were teenagers?”

“Okay, but why are you thinking about this at all,” you say. 

“Just answer the question.”

“It’s not that deep,” you say, shrugging. “I liked his face.” 

“Really?” Rie’s expression, disgruntled and appalled, makes you laugh. 

“Don’t act like he’s not objectively really attractive. He’s handsome, be real.”

“Maybe to some people,” she relents. “But his personality cancels it out, carry the two.” 

“He’s mellowed out so much over the years,” you say. You feel a little odd, finding yourself defending him. “He’s sweet, when he wants to be. Remember how he got Mina that bracelet she wanted so badly, for her birthday? Or how he picked up those special oranges for Hanta when he went on that one mission?”

Rie looks at you for a long moment. As your words settle into the silence, you begin to feel self-conscious. But it’s not like what you’d said isn’t true. Rie knows this. 

Just as you open your mouth to no doubt incriminate yourself further, she leans back on the bed and closes her eyes. “I guess you’re right. You done folding those clothes? I’m hungry. Let’s get dinner. Hanta says it’s kaiseki.”

Dinner is absolutely delicious. Your server tells you and Rie that the chef’s designed the menu to feature ingredients native to the region, ingredients in season. Everything’s fresh, and even dishes you aren’t normally particularly fond of have you cleaning your plate. You feel spoiled. 

You take lots of pictures. Of the dishes, of Rie. You send them to Sero. 

Hanta: The food looks great! My girl looks even better!!! Send more pics pls

Rie’s pleased when you show her the messages. After fussing over her appearance, she makes you take a picture of her in your room’s outdoor bath, hair elegantly twisted up and off her shoulders, the ambient lighting softly illuminating her face. 

“I’m going to take a walk, see what that little bamboo garden looks like at night,” you tell her. She waves at you with one hand, tapping away at her phone, no doubt sending messages to Sero. 

“Don’t drop your phone in the water,” you say, and she makes an impatient sound, shooing you.

Smiling, you leave her to it. 

Now that it’s nighttime, the ryokan is quieter, more subdued. It’s easy enough to find the bamboo garden. The paths are brightly illuminated, the walkways clear and easy to take. Maybe because it’s the evening, but you encounter few people. Most are partaking in the onsen, unwinding after a long day, you guess. You plan to do so yourself, but you stumble across a dimly lit sitting area overlooking a small pond and waterfall. It’s pretty, and you can’t resist lingering. Taking a seat on a bench, you let your mind empty as you watch the glimmer of moonlight on the water. 

“Hey,” a voice says behind you, and you startle, turning. 

Bakugou’s standing there, looking uncharacteristically soft and undone in the onsen’s yukata. His hair is a little damp, spikes fallen. 

Seeing him in traditional wear takes you aback; you’ve only ever seen him in casual clothes—jeans, shirts, sweats. His hero suit, all sleek lines. The yukata’s a good look on him. 

“Oh hey, Bakugou,” you say, then hesitate, feeling awkward. What to say? Should you pretend this is the first you’ve seen of him here? 

While you flounder a little, Bakugou walks over to sit in a chair nearby, facing the water. You’re bewildered at this turn of events. You’re surprised he stopped to say hello, let alone sit and have a conversation with you.  

“Saw you and Soy Sauce Face’s girlfriend at dinner,” he says. “You on vacation?” 

Blinking, relieved, you reply, “Sort of. Long story short, Hanta was supposed to come out here with Rie, but work denied his time off. So I’m the replacement Hanta.” 

Bakugou looks at you. His eyes narrow. You shift in your seat, feeling a little bit like a bug under a microscope. Did you say something weird?

“What about you?” you ask, trying to lift the focus off of you. “You here on vacation?”

“...Yeah. For the weekend,” he says, looking back at the pond, exhaling sharply.

For someone on vacation, he doesn’t look too happy about it, you note. 

“Us too,” you tell him. “What do you think of the ryokan? I haven’t gotten the chance to explore yet, but what I’ve seen is gorgeous. Did you just use the public onsen?” 

“It’s alright,” Bakugou grumbles, and you blink, face scrunching up in incredulity. 

“You must have really high standards to say that, sir,” you say, and he snorts. An expression you can’t quite make out in the low light crosses his face, fades. He really is a handsome bastard, you find yourself thinking. 

He says something you don’t quite catch. 

“Sorry?” you say. Internally, you scold yourself for your idle thoughts. Another part of you argues back that there’s no harm in looking. 

“How’d you know I used the onsen?” he repeats, looking a little annoyed.

“Oh,” you say, surprised. Without thinking, you lean forward, reaching out to touch his hair. 

Bakugou turns his head sharply; he grabs your wrist on what seems like instinct, halting you. You freeze, mortified.

“I’m sorry!” you say hastily. He drops your hand immediately, like you’re contaminated. You draw back. Flustered, you continue, “It’s just—your hair’s still a little wet. I took a guess. Sorry again, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

You were treating him like he’s Hanta, or Rie, as if you’re close friends. Jeez. 

“Forget it,” he says gruffly. 

There’s a long stretch of silence, and you begin to think of excuses to make to escape. 

Just as you open your mouth with one, he says, “What’re you doing tomorrow?” 

“I—I think Rie wanted to check out the town’s morning market, and the temple nearby,” you say. “She likes to sleep in, so we’ll probably do that after my morning run. The staff said there’s a scenic walking trail through the forest, so I’ll probably check it out.”

You force your mouth closed before the rambling continues. Wait, you should ask him the same, right? To be polite?

But before you can say anything, Bakugou grunts, then stands. 

“Go back to your room,” he tells you. “It’s getting late.”

With that, he leaves. You sit there for a long moment, staring after him.

“Hey, welcome back,” Rie says from her bed, covered from nose to toes in a blanket. Her eyelids droop in a way that tells you she’s minutes from sleep. “You were gone for a while.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you say, closing the door behind you. Woodenly, you begin to gather clothes to change into. “I’m going to take a quick shower, okay? Go ahead and sleep; don’t wait up for me.”

“Mmkay,” she says, eyes already closed. 

You move around as quietly as you can, getting ready for bed. 

All the while, you can’t help but think about the conversation you just had. About Bakugou.

For the past couple months, at gatherings with mutual friends, it’s been like this when you talk to each other. Awkward, with a strange underlying tension. You’re not sure if it’s your fault, or his, but. You wish you could be normal around him. It’s only like this with him.

As you climb into bed, getting settled, the memory of him in his yukata flashes across your closed eyelids. The moonlight on his face, cooling the red of his eyes. His hand around your wrist.

Fuck. 

Notes: Hello friends! This fic is a very belated birthday fic for our guy, my little muse 🧡 This is intended to be a twoshot, and I hope to have that second part up next weekend. Please look forward to it!

A couple notes, as there are some specifically Japanese items referenced in this fic:

A ryokan is a Japanese-style inn! Onsen are hot springs. So an onsen ryokan is an inn that features hot springs on the property. Here, here, and here are videos you can enjoy of people visiting some.

Kaiseki is a multi-course, traditional Japanese dinner. Some of the videos I linked above show the kinds of kaiseki offered!

Thank you for reading! Hugs and kisses 💕 Until part two!

I'm a damn mess 😭😭 this was so beautiful but so damn painful 🧡😭😭

Synopsis: Your worst nightmare comes to life after you receive a call well after midnight that isn't from your husband Bakugou but about him. Rushing to the hospital you're thankful to find him alive but when he comes to he asks to see his wife despite you standing there.

Warnings: Angst

A/N & wc: just something quick I whipped up, 3.6k

This is what you wanted isn't it?

All along you begged the Gods for this.

Asking with hot tears streaming down your face that you wished that you weren't here. Not dead but that you never truly existed at all. That no one could remember you and it would be that much easier to be nothing in the wind.

The Gods have a cruel sense of humor, granting your wish, much to your dismay, at an extremely shitty time in your life.

The call comes in the middle of the night, another fear you've had since you married him. Worry clawing up your stomach as your clammy hands reach for the phone. It's Kirishima, it's just Kirishima. He just wants to chat right?

At 2am he just wants to ask about your day doesn't he?

Deep down in the very marrow of your bones you know that's not true. Not even able to fool yourself for a second as your groggy voice shakes with a weak "H-hello?"

Kirishima comes out and just says it. Explains it all but it's as if he's speaking a different language. You barely make out Bakugou and the name of the hospital before the ringing in your ears is deafening. He goes on for what feels like hours as your mind plays out grotesque, horrifying images of what may be left if your husband.

He never got hurt.

Ever.

He promised.

He fucking promised he'd be okay. He always does when he kisses you goodbye. When you say stay safe and he affirms with a hum and "I will. For you I will."

But you didn't say stay safe this time did you? No you spat insults at him, hormonal, pms fueled rage over something he couldn't even control.

He was a superhero. He should be able to control everything.

"Sweetheart, I'm fuckin late." Is what he growled and when he leaned in for a kiss. You leaned away.

"That's it. I'm coming to get you." Kirishima hisses about to hang up when you tell him you're fine. That you'll be there and he can go home to his own worrying and extremely pregnant wife.

You use your quirk, illegally, flying at the speed of light to get to the hospital. Rushing out the syllables of your new last name, Bakugou in such a rush the nurse asks you three more times before you spy Kirishima's hands running through his red mane as he steps outside an ICU room.

Pushing past the nurse, biting your tongue as you rush towards Kirishima. Ignoring his warning as he tries to catch you as you slip under his large arms. Through the heavy door and pulling past the curtain.

It's worse than you imagined and yet still not as bad. He's unconscious, an oxygen mask over his face but thankfully no tube snaking down his throat. You launch yourself at his side, the slow beep from the monitor by your head reassures you he was still breathing.

Still alive.

Your palms are clammy again as it all comes rushing into focus. With each beep comes new information piled on top of the other. First is the pungent smell of cleaner. Disinfecting anything and everything until it's bleaching the lining of your lungs. Then comes the cold, thick plastic of the bed handle beneath your hands. Groaning from your grip as your heart rate increases.

Beep

The stiff blankets, they're scratchy and all wrong. Bakugou doesn't like this type of "cheap shit". He's more high maintenance than you. He likes tightly woven or soft down comforters.

Beep

Red, the bandages on his chest are weeping red. So much fucking color clashing with the white gauze. That can't be right. It'll get on this stupid scratchy blanket. The sharp inhale brings in more sanitation, your breath becomes more shallow. Teeth grinding and competing with the sound ringing in your head.

Beep

It's dark, it's so fucking dark in here you can barely see. Where are his eyes? Why won't his eyes open? You're whispering his name so softly like you do when he's worked overnight and you're leaving for work by mid morning. His crimson eyes always open. Always crinkle when he says goodbye. Why can't you see his fucking eyes?

Beep

Why

Beep

Is he gonna..

Beep

"Hey." A solid hand clamps onto your shoulder pulling you out of your spiral. Bringing you to shore with his rough grip, "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

At some point Kirishima has pulled up the reclining chair for you, offering it silently with one of those stupid, shitty scratchy blankets. You feel your skin crawl and not from the low thread count.

Eyes flickering back towards your husband of three years.

Three whole years and he's just going to leave like this? Like a candle snuffed out by…by

By some damn extra?!

Kirishima watches your labored breathing, he is never going to go back on the promise he made his best friend and the one Bakugou made in turn.

"She's stubborn. Look after her if something fuckin happens."

"I'm staying with you. I'll ask the nurse to-"

"No!" It comes out too quick, too loud as you turn on him like a wild animal. For just a moment you can see it. Dully reflected in his eyes in this damned low light, your reflection. What he sees.

A scared little girl who's about to lose her shit.

You clear your throat, straightening your back before you breathe out deeply.

"Your wife is going to pop any minute. You need to be available for her." You say sternly, pretending this was something so much more mundane. Like you've missed the bus or the taxi Bakugou sent for you.

A small inconvenience, yea that's all this was. You were just going to be late, late to see Bakugou and-

"You're sure?" Thunderous voice threatens to crack, looking over his friend, making it harder on you.

"Yes. You're injured, yourself. Besides your paternity leave starts the second she goes into labor and as office manager I do have a say on that. In fact it starts now." There it is, there's that stern voice he's used to. The light scolding you've always given him and Bakugou for the last five years.

Kirishima seems to give it some thought, a lot of thought.

"Eiji, please I'll be okay." You smile up at him, lips twitching at how difficult it is to turn them upward when all you want to do is scream. Scream until the burn of bleach is replaced from the raw emotion that's bubbling up your throat.

The large man shifts his weight, debating giving you a hug and when he sees your body closed off, hands white knuckled on the bed frame he thinks better of it.

"You better call me if you need anything. At least give me that okay?"

"Okay." You appease him, still forcing the smile and hoping he'll get the fuck out.

Finally he does, staring you down with a soft goodbye and a stern I mean it that you wave off. Until finally he shuts the big, scary door.

Leaving you alone with that sound that is both reassuring and yet nauseating.

Beep

Beep

Beep

And this time you can't hold back the tears.

Crying enough tears to fill up two weeks. Almost drowning in the amount shed as the doctor reassures you he'll wake soon. He has healthy brain wave activity and he's breathing on his own.

"All good signs. Try more of his favorite music."

It's all they can say. All they can give you to cling onto as you replay your last words to him.

Hateful, cruel things.

Over the stupidest fucking fight.

"It's because you're still in love with her!"

Throwing insecurities in his face and for what?

Suddenly his heart rate monitor beeps loudly, quickly chirping the increase in speed as you watch his eyes move beneath his long lashes.

Before they flutter open, looking over at you with… with

With disgust.

Your heart hammers in your chest. Was he? Was he still mad at you?

"H-hey Suki." You go to reach for the hairs that cling to his damp forehead only to be caught in his deadly hot and tight grip, "Katsuki, you're hurting me."

His free hand rips the mask from his face as he looks over at you with harsh set eyes. The intensity weakened only by his groggy state.

"Don't use my given name." A threat that has your eyes watering, "I don't even fuckin know you."

He tosses your hand back into your lap as if you were trash, eyes narrowing to slits.

"Where's my wife?"

"I am your -" But he cuts you off.

"Where the fuck is Momo?!"

Momo, Bakugou's first wife, comes quicker than you'd like. Wrapping her arms around you, sickeningly sweet perfume chokes you out, almost drowning out the harsh chemicals of the room. She came straight from the movie set, long lavish dress fit for the Mafia Princess character she was playing in some new film.

The same very ex wife who you claimed Bakugou wasn't over. Gritting your teeth as she fusses over you, as if you were a delicate thing that could break any minute and not Bakugou who lies under that itchy blanket.

"Momo, darlin." He croaks and she visibly flushes. Rushing to him, spying the blanket as well before she's using her quirk to make something more to his liking.

"Baby why weren't you here?" You can hear the strain in his voice, the emotion he's biting back as she looks down at him confused, "Are you still filming that dumb super hero movie?"

"Bakugou-"

"Katsuki." He corrects sharply, even moving his mask that the doctors fought to put back on to make sure she heard it. Momo looks over her shoulder cautiously to gauge your reaction.

"Katsuki…" It feels odd to form the syllables on her tongue, "I finished that movie seven years ago…"

"Wha-what?"

"I'm also…Ba-" His glare causes Momo to correct herself, "Katsuki, doll, we aren't married anymore. We divorced. You're married to her now."

Momo pulls you into view and Bakugou stares at his ex and "current" wife.

A long, heavy moment of silence passes before the heart monitor beeps furiously. The smell of caramel permeating the room much too quickly before the doctor rushes in.

Just as Bakugou takes in a breath to start yelling, pulling at the mask and almost ripping out his IV his body goes slack. The doctor was barely faster than him, injecting him with something to lull him back to sleep.

Especially since explosives and oxygen did not mix well.

The doctor blinks rapidly having just caught the tail end of the conversation. Memory loss was normal, expected, but possibly six years or more…

Well that wasn't, even with his long history of concussions.

With the quick assessment he turns to the two women in the room. Debating on just how to go about this as bedside manner wasn't always his strong suit.

"What I'm about to say may be difficult for you two however keep in mind this is what is going to be best for the patient and his recovery. Since he is experiencing amnesia we will have to go along with what he thinks is true right now. Just like one would when someone has dementia. There will be less stress on his body if we indulge in his perceived reality."

"For how long?" Momo asks tentatively. Doctor Yashido takes a sharp inhale.

"Until his memories return."

"And how long will that take?" Two different tones ask in unison. One a frustrated bark the other laced with deep concern.

"Could be weeks. Could be months." He swallows thickly, Yashido never was good at delivering bad news and this was almost as bad as it gets, "If they ever return at all."

The hospital floor falls away from beneath your feet. Causing you to plummet into the deep dark depths. Questions buzzing in your head battling alongside the screaming. The sound echoes in your mind whipping up the thoughts of Bakugou having never loved you. Of Bakugou thinking so little of you, of finding you so fucking annoying, like the gnat you were he went and forced himself to forget the last three years of your marriage and taking it a step further by going back far enough to forget you existed at all.

Isn't this what you wanted? What you wished for that night? That you'd wake up and you hadn't existed at all?

Beep

This wasn't about you. Fuck this was about him. Would he be happier with Momo? He never really did say why they broke up. He always said it was "just mutual" and left it at that.

Beep

At least he was alive right? You could watch him from afar again. Watch the star rise as your feet stayed firmly planted on the ground.

Beep

You could forget he ever brought you up in the night sky to dance along with him. It would be easy right?

"Love." Momo calls for the third time, manicured hands on your shoulders, "Why don't you go home for some rest. And a shower."

You stare up at her blankly, at the doctor who gives a curious look before you slowly nod.

"Yea….yea that's a good idea."

Returning the next day proves painful as you see Momo has changed, stunning even in leggings and a cropped shirt. Even took the initiative to alter the decor of his ICU room. Soft yellow string lights, a humidifier, soft fluffy blankets and silky sheets that Bakugou might bleed on anyway if he didn't stop moving around so much.

It's awkward to stand in the corner and watch them interact. To watch everyone else interact with the man you so desperately wanted to see.

And wanted him to see you in return.

But he can't now, he doesn't even know your name. And everytime you come close to the bed he stares at you with such discontent, with suspicion as if you were the dirty liar in the room.

Kirishima falls back, bumping his shoulder into yours gently. You look up at him with deep bags under your eyes.

"Mina is worried about you, ya know. She says you can stay at our place if your apartment is too…much." He offers with a strained smile, you place another lip twitching half assed smile on your own mouth.

"I'll be fine."

Yet the late hours of the night, all alone in your too big apartment, curled into his pillow that is slowly losing the smell of him haunt you the most.

A few more weeks pass and even with Bakugou's restlessness the doctors argue with him about downgrading his stay to general admission. They instead move him from the ICU to the neurology floor, making this the longest Bakugou had ever been in the hospital to date. Meeting even more doctors that now talk to both you, for legal reasons and Momo, for Bakugou's fantasy, about his brain damage.

How there is hardly any and that there were many things about the brain that we as humans had yet to understand.

But that was his whole fucking job wasn't it? To study the brain and unlock its god damn mysteries. Not tell you you were shit out of luck and non-existent to your very real husband who was in such a twisted reality.

It's baffling to see his scans, to hear nothing is wrong. Painful to see the love in his eyes that shine for Momo and not a spark for you.

How odd it is to share your husband with his ex wife.

Sometimes you're brave enough to sit closer to him like you are today. Steeling your nerves against his harsh interrogation as if you were the nasty villain that put him here in the first place. Sitting second to Momo who holds his hand or smooths down his blanket. Watching the days bleed together as her once, almost forced and polite smile turns into something else.

Turns real, genuine.

It makes your stomach churn.

"The fuck are ya still doing here extra?" He hisses at you when he wakes from a nap, Momo shushing him. Scolding him about being rude and he counters.

"What's rude is that she fuckin exists! Why is she fuckin here, Sweetheart?" Your heart falls into your stomach. Throat closing up as your body rejects this.

Rejects everything, especially the sound of his nickname for you aimed at someone else. At someone you're stupidly jealous of. At someone whose fault this could never be and who has only ever shown you kindness.

Sent your flowers on your birthday.

Avoided hero galas the two of you went to.

"Katsuki!" No correction on his name now, Momo having settled into his given name once again and quickly at that.

"No, it's okay. I'll- I'll get us some coffee, Momo." You say abruptly getting up. Wanting comfort from no one but the man that just cut you with his sharp tongue.

He's just groggy. It's cause he's hurting. It's the meds that are saying that.

The same excuses echo through your head as you walk through the halls, air thick with intangible weight as you trudge towards the sludge machine painted in coffee labels.

You wondered what exactly the air was thick with. Grief most likely, of lives forever altered resting on the shoulders of sobbing loved ones who could barely hold themselves up but were now expected to carry the weight of the world.

Or maybe it was resentment, festering anger. Angry that this happened. Angry at God or the Gods or at no one in particular that let this happen to their loved one.

All you knew was that the air was thick with it. Smothering you with every futile breath you took.

Somehow you make it back to the room, muscle memory must have guided you back here. Toeing open the door that you left slightly ajar quietly.

Only to find a sleeping Bakugou, breathing even and heart rate lazy, slow. Momo sighs softly as she pushes his ash blonde hair away from his forehead murmuring ever so softly.

"Why'd I leave again?"

The paper cups in your hands crush easily. The scalding liquid burning in your hands as Momo startles from the sound. But nothing burns as badly as the angry tears you're holding back.

Maybe you should leave. Give these two their happily ever after.

Maybe everyone was right. Bakugou was a lot to handle. Mitsuki had said so herself. Saying you'd never be good enough for her son as long as you stayed weak willed.

Weak hearted.

"You won't last four years with my son. Mark my words. You'll give up on him because he's too good for you, Momo was the better fit."

She muttered them to you as she pulled the veil over your blurring vision before you walked down the aisle to her son.

You never did tell him. And now you never would.

Mind made up as you storm from the hospital room. Biting your lip until you tasted blood as you held yourself back. A war raging inside your head.

He's just lost his memories, that's all this is. No you fucking idiot his love for Momo was stronger.

Soon you're marching up the stairs to your shared apartment, almost snapping the key off in the lock from the sharp turn of your wrist. Rushing inside without bothering to remove your shoes as tears cloud your eyes. Threatening to fall in fat drops as you rummage through the closet for your suitcase. Stacking it haphazardly with random items in the room. A small painting, your charger, random clothes and jewelry. All the while murmuring to yourself before you bully your way into the en suite.

Gathering things here and there before you see it. The box catching your eye that has you instantly nausted.

It's quiet for a moment. The buzzing in your throat and head silenced by your intense concentration.

Before erupting with a raw scream shoving everything off of the granite in one foul swoop.

Shattering his expensive cologne and your pricy perfume onto the wood grain tile. The scents meld together reminding you of hot dinner dates the two of you never made it to. Too busy fucking on the vanity counter, staring at one another in the mirror. Now all that stares back at you is a ghost. Hollow eyes and a heavier heart.

Biting your lip you stare at the black box on the floor, torturing yourself by picking it up. The rectangular shape feels different in your hands, the rounded edges feel sharp as you gently unwrap the gift as if you didn't know what sat inside.

Two white tests. Neatly capped and set in tissue paper. Two solid pink lines on one test and the other written clear as day in digital text Pregnant

With finality you slam the box into the trash with such force the can falls over. The other several tests toppled out indicating the same thing. Confirming what your blood tests results in your voicemail echoed back to you from your OBGYN

Congratulations!

The sound of her voice rings in your head. Was it a "congratulations", was it really?

This is what you wanted right? A baby?

To not exist? To fall off the face of the earth?

Fate is a twisted and cruel thing, giving but always taking its hefty price as tears burn your eyes, bags packed leaving the once shared apartment.

The universe only gave you what you wanted right?

So congratulations, you got exactly what you wanted.

You were finally forgotten.

Great Googly Moogly 🙌🏻❤️🔥

cover shot | master list

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Fem Reader

status: complete

length: 16.5k words | 6 chapters

summary: For years, you’ve been the only assistant in the business equipped to handle foul-tempered supermodel Katsuki Bakugou. That is, until he catches on to your weak point.

tags/warnings: model/celebrity AU, praise kink, aged up characters, eventual smut, AFAB & fem pronoun reader, implied lighter-skinned reader**

**note: In retrospect, this work is one of my least inclusive. A large portion of the plot depends on the reader’s blush being visible on her skin. I just wanted to make this clear to anyone looking to read this fic, and apologize to any potential readers that this excludes. Going forward, I will endeavor to do better! 

chapter links:

one

two

three

four

five

six

cross posted on ao3: here

"I don't want Ninat" NAH BUT YOUR SON WANTS THE DAUGHTER

Pretend That It’s A Song

anonymous  asked:

May I please request a Ninat’s daughter! Reader x Neteyam? Maybe Neteyam stumbles upon her when she’s singing with her mother and she’s unaware of how Neteyam had been smitten by her, and he goes out of his way to spend time with her and maybe eventually start courting her 🥹

pairing: neteyam x ninat’s!daughter!reader

summary: your mother warned you about those Sully boys.

wc: 2216

warnings: mentions of hunting, mentions of drinking, kissing, cringe/corny dialogue but they’re in love so it’s fine

a/n: kinda different from what anon asked for but i hope y’all enjoy!!

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Hi more baby fever acting up so ya know. Doesn't help that I've worked in the infant room at my work this week and those baby cuddles have just been ☺️🥰

So how about New Daddy Kiri?

He knows how much his partner has been stressed lately.

Emotionally, physically, mentally and socially.

He tells them to take a day away from the house, he'll spend it with the new baby while his partner gets to relax, go out and just enjoy themselves.

Not realizing what he got into.

He hasn't had much one on one time with the 2 month old since he's been working. Maybe an hour or two but they slept most of that, or a change and feeding at night.

Not an entire day.

So now he's crying too cause baby is stressed. Not hungry or dirty. Is too over tired to properly go down.

How did you do this all day? What made all this worth it?

The crying, the nonstop bouncing, walking around and cradling. Trying to swaddle the baby so they feel comforted but even that doesn't work.

Laying them on the floor ontop of a blanket so they can have tummy time but they don't want that. Trying their back too, but now the baby feels alone and is just screaming even louder, going red in the face when Kirishima tries to gage their attention with a rattle.

The rocking chair in the corner by the window is his last hope.

His partner isn't home due for another 2 hours or so, and he's at his wits end.

He slowly lowers himself into the soft white chair, proping his feet up onto the glider so that his whole body rocks.

His large hands clasping his baby's head and bottom as he hums softly, feeling the baby slowly start to calm down.

'So,'

Kirishima thinks.

He continues to hum as his eyes droop closed, the babys head coming to rest as the baby's squeaks and whimpers slowly stop and just soft breathing is heard from both daddy and baby.

'This is what makes it all worth it,'

Only when his partner returns and finds their whole world snuggled up and sleeping.

Softly taking the baby from Kirishima who jumps, ready to fight when he notices his partner who just laughs and holds out a hand for the Hero.

Kirishima jumping up and giving his partner a soft but tight hug, kissing them in the side of their head as he whispers,

"You're a miracle,"

Good Soup 🥵

— ❝ 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 ❞

my hero academia

pairing. pro hero!bakugou x villain!reader

word count. 4k

warnings. kidnapping, mentions of drugging, dub-con, sub!bakugou, dom!reader, tentacles oh my, bondage, anal penetration (m. receiving), edging, deep throating aforementioned tentacles hello

Darkness. That’s the first thing Katsuki becomes aware of as he’s drawn slowly from the tender thralls of a deep, dreamless sleep. Even as his heavy eyes blink open, there’s not a hint of light, only deep, inky blackness that surrounds and consumes him.

For a moment, he thinks he must be in his bed, waking in the middle of the night for one reason or another. But that belief is abruptly snuffed out when he attempts to move and finds that none of his limbs will cooperate. No— there’s something holding him down, something cold and metal around each of his wrists and ankles, restricting his movement.

The air around him chills his skin as he realizes the dangerously compromising position he’s in, spread eagle and locked down against a cool slab of something hard and flat. Metal? Stone? He couldn’t quite tell.

Confusion settles in his bones.

“W– what the—?” the young hero chokes hoarsely, words slurring on his heavy tongue. His throat is painfully dry, and his head is throbbing, symptoms vaguely similar to a bad hangover, but far more intense.

“He lives.”

Katsuki’s head jerks at the low purr that ripples through the air around him, narrowed vermillion eyes fervently searching through the opaque darkness.

“T– the hell is this? What’s going on?” He growls, head swiveling uselessly as soft footsteps echo in his ears.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The voice is light, taunting, and it only riles him up more, stroking the flames of anger and frustration flickering inside of him.

“Stop fucking with me and show yourself, coward.” The blonde spits viciously, yanking against his sturdy binds.

Laughter comes, trickling impishly from unseen lips.

“‘Coward’?” Katsuki gasps in shock, not expecting the whisper to come from so near, not expecting the rush of warm breath that washes over the shell of his ear. Vague recognition flickers in the back of his mind, but it’s gone before he can fully grasp it. “I’m not sure that’s quite the right word to describe me.”

It clicks in an instant, the void in his memory suddenly flooding with the events of the previous day.

The villains. The fight. Being snatched up some strange, alien-like tent—

His eyes widen in realization, before a deep scowl contorts his features. “Tentiplicity.”

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