#but then again he did step down for mina like. 15 whatever years ago if were using 12yo nart for comparison | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

againstacecilia · 2 years

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What's Next?

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: 18+ minors DNI (I'M SERIOUS, IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OLD THIS ISN'T FOR YOU.)

Warnings: Grief, SMUT IS HERE!!!

A/N: I know I've made y'all wait for 15 damn chapters but here it is!! Feelings!! Smut!! We've got it all! 😍 Also, I know this is late but I'll still try and get the next chapter out tomorrow, love you all endlessly for sticking around. Thank you forever and ever and ever to @creatively-analytical for beta-reading and being just an overall gem. 🥰 Asks are always open!!

“We all know the risks.” Tonis stares down at the sheet covering Arlon’s body as the hovering stretcher it rests on floats past you all toward the town funeral home. You and Din had filled Tonis in as much as you could on the Razor Crest after you landed. He places a hand on your shoulder, “You did something truly selfless going after him.”

“It was the right thing to do,” you shrug. He gives your arm a quick squeeze before heading downthe ramp and following Arlon’s body, off to do whatever Guild things need to happen after the death of a member.

“Let’s get this over with.” You waste no time heading into the heart of the city, twisting and winding the familiar path toward Arlon’s parent’s home on the other side of the main area. The small roads grow wider and the trees get bigger as you lead the way toward their small house.

You hesitate for only a moment before grabbing the door knocker and briskly tapping it against the door three times. After a heartbeat, you knock once more. “Arlon’s and my secret knock,” you tell Din, feeling his confused gaze on you from under the helmet. “This way, they’ll know it’s me.”

Sure enough, the door unlocks and swings open, an older man standing in the doorway. “Well I never thought I’d have the pleasure of seeing you here again.” He wraps you in a friendly hug before noticing the towering figure behind you. “And this is…?

“Mando, another Guild member,” you offer, stepping to the side so Din can shake the man’s hand.

“Iarren,” Arlon’s father says as the men grip each others wrists for a moment.

“Is Mina here?” you ask, peering into the house and looking for Arlon’s mother.

“She’s in the study, please come in.” Iarren leads you inside, closing the door behind Din. “This way.”

You walk the halls, feeling like a ghost haunting a place you have no right to. Down the hall and to the right, the door is open and Mina sits in an overstuffed chair, feet curled under her and book perched in her lap.

She says your name with familiarity and love, even though you know your parents have told her what had happened the last time you were on Randon. Standing to greet you, she echos her husband and gives you a warm hug. “It’s wonderful to see you, dear. Who have you brought to visit?”

“This is Mando, he’s another member of the Guild.”

Mina releases you and steps to Din. “Welcome to our home, Mando.”

“Thank you both for your hospitality.” His words are formal, if a bit stuffy, but he says them with great respect.

“Mina, Iarren, there’s something I need to tell you.” You gesture for everyone to sit down, sweat prickling the back of your neck and along your forehead. Wringing your hands, you look over at Din. He gives you a slow nod and you take a deep breath before jumping in head first.

You tell them everything. You explain in your own words what your parents shared with them weeks ago. You tell them about getting the message from Tonis about Arlon’s distress call, and how you tracked him down through Coronet City. You told him about his apology and then…

“I wasn’t cautious enough and the quarry…” you clear your throat as it threatens to close up, “Arlon jumped in front of a blaster for me. His final act was trading my fate for his own.” You look at both the people sitting before you, “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.”

Silent tears stream down Mina’s face, hands wrapped in her husbands. Iarren’s face is hard as stone, but the tremble in his chin gives away the emotions raging through him. After a pause, a modulated voice breaks through the silence.

“Your son died honorably. You should be proud of the man you raised.”

All eyes in the room snap to Din. Mina sobs quietly and buries her face in Iarren’s chest. Arlon’s father nods at Din, “Thank you, Mandalorian. Your words honor us.”

Mina sniffs and pulls away, standing to come sit next to you. “Thank you for telling us. And thank you for trying to save him.” She hugs you tightly, bringing fresh tears to your eyes as well.

“Tonis is taking care of his body right now at the funeral home,” you say after a moment. “You should go to him.”

She lets go of you and nods, turning back to Iarren. They quickly prepare to leave and you follow them out the door with Din in tow.

As they begin to head down the street, Iarren turns to Din. “Take care of her,” he nods his head at you.

“I will,” he promises, stepping closer to you. You wave as they disappear down the road into the main part of town.

After spending some time with your parents, introducing them to Din and having an early dinner, you both say your goodbyes and head back to the Crest. The moment the ramp closes behind you, you flop down onto your cot and sigh, head falling back onto the wall of the hold. “Honestly, that went better than I expected.”

Din comes to sit next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you reply honestly, “But more free than I’ve felt in a while.”

“What do you mean?”

You close your eyes and admit, “I feel like I’ve finally let go of Arlon.”

His body stills next to you but he doesn’t say anything. He just holds space for you to say what you need to say.

“I’ve been running, Din. Running away from everything. But then we had to run right towards him, and I had to face him. I never expected him to apologize.” You look up at the dark visor covering Din’s face, “I got a chance to tell him what I wanted to tell him. I forgave him, and he more than made up for whatever mistakes he may have made in his life with me. So I can let him go.”

Din’s arm squeezes you as you finish talking. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Din.” Whether it’s the relief of the night or finally getting closure, something about the mood shifts as your gaze lingers up at the man next to you. “So, now what?”

“Now,” Din says, voice low and dark, “we watch the sunset.”

Your mouth opens in surprise as Din stands and sweeps you up off the cot, carrying you over to the ladder. You pull yourself onto the rungs and up to the cockpit, staring out at the fiery glow of the sky outside the viewport. “This was always my favorite time of day,” you say as Din steps into the room.

“I noticed,” he chuckles, coming up behind you and wrapping warm arms around your torso.

You stand like this for the next few minutes as the sun sinks behind the horizon. Stars blink into existence in the ever-darkening sky, twinkling friendly hellos one by one. Once night has truly fallen, you turn around to face Din, his arms never moving from you. You sneak your arms under his and nuzzle close to him. “What a night.”

“We’ve still got plenty of time.” He brushes a crooked finger under your chin and steps away, crossing his arms and leaning into one hip. “So what’s next, Cuyan?”

“Hmm…” You feign thinking about it for a moment and begin playfully circling Din. His visor follows you but he doesn’t move, as if he’s studying you and waiting for you to strike. Your hours training together make the moves of each other second nature; when you come around to stand in front of him again, you’ve read all you need to know about what’s going on in his mind. “I think I might have an idea.”

“Gonna share that idea, or..?” He follows your playful banter without stumbling, voice dropping low.

“You’re gonna have to guess,” you shrug, turning toward the door. Your steps are deliberate and he follows you, matching your energy. You both climb down the ladder and, when he gets to the bottom and turns to face you, you press your body up against his.

A low growl slips from deep in his chest, vibrating the armor plate and into your bones. Blindingly fast, he grabs your arms and flips your positions, pressing you up against the ladder. “I want you to say it.”

Your breath quickens as his fingers massage down your arms to circle your wrists. Lifting your hands above your head and pinning them to the cool metal, Din stares down at you through the night black visor of his helmet. “I want you, Din.”

“That’s not an idea for an activity, little one.” He wraps both of your wrists in one hand and brings the other one to caress down your ribs. He settles on the swell of your hip.

Heat creeps up your neck at his boldness, but that same heat pools in your belly at the implication behind his words. “Din, touch me.”

“I am,” he whispers as his hand traces the waistband of your pants, hooking a finger into the elastic.

“More,” you breathe, angling your hips to give him better access to your clothing.

A soft chuckle ghosts through the modulator of his helmet, “I can do that.” The hand holding your wrists releases and he removes his gloves, dropping them to the ground. He leads you to the cot and lays you down and you watch as his armor begins to fall from his body. Placing it safely in his bunk, he turns back to face you. “Tell me again.”

“Touch me, please.” Your need grows with each breath as he stalks toward you and hovers next to you.

“You’re so beautiful, Cuyan.”

The moment seems to stretch into forever as you melt. As you look at this man, bared naked, by his standards, in front of you, that warm feeling in your chest flares and burn brighter than any sun you’ve seen over your months with him. “Din…”

He reaches behind him to flip a switch and the cargo suddenly crashes into darkness. The only light comes from the open door to the cockpit across the room. As your eyes adjust to the low light, the hiss of his helmet coming off reaches your ears.

“This is what you want?” His voice carries over to you, pure and clear.

“Yes,” you breathe.

You feel his body cover yours and his lips collide with yours. He kisses you deeply and hungrily and your body responds in kind. The spark between you fans into a fire as his hand finds and tugs your leggings over your ass, gripping the muscle and pulling you as close to him as possible. He whispers your name into your neck before nipping the soft skin. Your breath catches.

Your hands fly to the hem of his shirt and you yank it over his head. Toned muscles cover his shoulders and chest. “Stars, Din.”

You feel his lips smile into your neck. He kisses over your shoulder and down your chest, sending his focus to your peaked nipple. His tongue laves the sensitive area for a moment and your hand weaves into his hair, tugging softly. The groan that leaves his mouth shoots straight to your core.

“Gentle, Cuyan, we’ve got time,” he murmurs. His full lips leave you and you feel him shift lower. Rough facial hair scratches your inner thigh as he kisses up your leg. Your chest heaves with anticipation as his hot breath tickles you.

The moment his tongue meets your skin, you know you’re lost. He laps at your sex with vigor, drinking you in like a man lost in the desert. His attention to your clit makes you see stars and the shimmering veil of your climax is just within reach as he stops abruptly. You whine involuntarily at the sudden loss of contact and your head whips up. “Why-”

Before you can finish your sentence, Din surges up to kiss you, tongue sweeping into your mouth. He pulls away and puts his forehead on yours. “I told you, we’ve got time.”

Impatient, you reach down and tug on this pants. You manage to get the flap open before his hand once again grabs your wrist and pulls it away, another whine inadvertently escaping your lips. He brings your hand up to rest on the back of his neck.

“Din,” you pant, sweat prickling at your hairline from the pressure of needs unfulfilled, “please…”

“I want to explore every inch of you,” he mumbles into your mouth, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. “Will you let me do that?”

Words lost, you nod and tug again on his soft curls. He hums his satisfaction and releases your lip, sprinkling kisses along your jaw and back down your neck. He spends precious time touching and licking and kissing every inch of your body with intention and burning desire without once letting you touch more than his upper body. If you didn’t get to touch him soon…

Without warning, one of his strong hands leaves its station at your breast and begins slow, methodical circles on your clit. Combined with his ministrations along your neck, the heat at the base of your spine begins to build again with fervor. “Let go, Cuyan.”

He slips two fingers inside your entrance and hooks them, searching for that perfect spot. It doesn’t take long before you erupt, body pulsing and shuddering with ecstasy. His name is the only thing that escapes your lips alongside the breathy moans of pleasure.

When the world comes back into dark focus, you realize he’s kissing you, slow and deep and languid. You return to your body and drape your arms over his shoulders, fingers gently tracing patterns across his sculpted back.

His lips pull back to hover over yours as he asks, “How we doin’, sweet girl?”

You hum contentedly, still unable to form an entire thought. Din laughs and places a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“That good, huh?”

“Din,” you begin, eyes drifting open into the darkness, “that was… I don’t know if I’ll ever have words for it.”

“I feel the same.”

You close the small space between the two of you and kiss him again. Pulling back, you tease, “The thing is, I don’t think I got a chance to return the favor.”

“Is that something you’d like to do, Cuyan?” His voice is dark again, deep and dangerous.

With the element of surprise on your side, you hook a leg around his and pull his knee out from under him, flipping you both around in the process. It isn’t clean, but you manage to straddle over him. The boxes you set up for some semblance of privacy around your bunk hide his face from the sliver of light that shines over his exposed torso. Small scars pepper his soft stomach, nicks and scratches faded into raised white lines along tan skin. You send your hands exploring the expanse of muscle and chest hair below you, awe sketched across your face.

Leaning down to press a deep kiss to his mouth, you straighten back up with a wicked gleam in your eyes. “Yes, Mandalorian, that’s something I’d very much like to do.”

You slowly shift down his legs, fingers trailing down his upper body to follow. Fingers deftly open his pants the rest of the way and slide them down his thick thighs. He lifts his hips to help you get the garment all the way off and you cast it aside, reveling in the sight before you.

“Is this alright?” you ask tentatively.

“Yes, cyar'ika.” He says in a hushed tone. You don’t know what cyar’ika means, but it leaves your mind quickly as excitement bubbles over in your chest. With a grin, you lower yourself between his legs and wrap your hand around his warm shaft. Pumping its full length a couple of times, you remove your hand and lick up from base to tip before taking the head fully into your mouth.

The groan that leaves Din’s lips is sinful and goes straight to your already reheating core. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can before hollowing out your cheeks and caressing the velvet skin with your tongue. Using your hand to cover what you can’t envelop with your lips, you begin a slow rhythm up and down his cock.

He moans your name, hand fisting in your hair. Any plans you had of teasing him or making him work for it are out the window as he says your name. You begin to pump faster, using your other hand to cup and massage his balls.

His hand in your hair tugs you up and off his dick before both hands are under your arms and pulling you up to him. At the same time your lips find his, he thrusts up and slams into your cunt, sheathing himself in one go. You moan into his mouth and he swallows the noise, along with his own. Without removing himself from you, he tips you over onto you back and opens your legs wide, gripping and grasping at your shins as he sets a punishing pace.

With every thrust of his hips, Din showers you with praise.

You take my cock so well, Cuyan.

You’re so beautiful spread out under me like this.

Hang on just a little bit longer, cyar’ika, you can do that for me.

Your body is perfect, you’re perfect, I’m never letting you go…

Sparks shimmer on the periphery of your vision as your orgasm coils up through your belly. “Din, I’m gonna cum, oh Maker…”

A second round of waves shatters through your body and Din grinds to a halt fully seated in you. His body shakes over yours as you both tip over the edge and climax. He drops his body onto yours, head resting on your chest and you both lay there for long, blissful moments. The world around you has ceased to exist; all that matters is you and him and every thought and feeling that’s silently shared between you in this moment. He pulls himself out of you and curls up in front of you in the dark, wrapping you in his arms. You put your head in the crook of his neck and breathe in his scent; warm with hints of leather and the bar of soap sitting in the fresher. His stubble catches in your hair as he nuzzles closer to you.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” you whisper, hating to break the silence but desperate to know what’s going on in his mind.

He breathes deeply, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m thinking, cyar’ika, that I’m never letting you go.”

If there was a way for your chest to feel lighter than air, his words somehow accomplished that feeling. You let your lips find the skin of his chest, pressing all the feelings you don’t have names for yet into the muscle there. “Tell me more.”

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iwantitiwriteit · 4 years

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Love Lockdown - Part 2

Big Girl With a Brave Face

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: You brace yourself for your FaceTime with Chris.

Warnings: Angst, Pandemic backdrop, Profanity

Notes: More heart strumming feels! Read the previous part! Gonna try and put these up on Monday’s starting next week 8/10, along with In My Feelings Monday™, when my asks will be open for all your romantic musings! Let’s get sweet and sappy y’all! I know you wanna 🥰

The sun shines down, a crisp wind whisking by you every so often; applause for your hard work in the garden. You found a circadian rhythm. Grasp, pull, dump. Grasp, pull, dump. It afforded you an opportunity to get lost in thought… and memory.

You just don’t get it, do you?

Baby, I want to!

Why didn’t you say anything?

Would it have mattered?

I think we can both agree we need the space…

We need to talk…

I love you.

I love you too.

“Are you okay Aunty?” Iris’ innocent voice drifts into your trance but doesn’t break it completely.

You absentmindedly respond. “Uh huh. Why do you ask?”

“Probably ‘cos you're pulling at those weeds so ferociously I think you might’ve got a few good plants,” Ines answers for her younger sister, the teenage ‘tude snapping you to reality.

You assess your handiwork and sure enough, in your pile of weeds, some good plants lie there with them, undeservedly plucked from the earth. “Oh, my bad,” you sheepishly apologize.

“It’s okay. The only difference between a weed and a flower is judgment. Here,” Ines shuffles over to your spot.

“Ines, you’re wise beyond your years, you know that?” You stand up, placing your palms on your lower back, arching and stretching in a moment of respite. Looking over your nieces tending to the greenery you botched, their youthful vigor bring a genuine smile to your face. Those have been few and far in between these days.

“I know, right? Could you tell my mom for me?” she kids, making you laugh. “It couldn’t have been that long since it was you and Mama doing this,” Ines smirks at you briefly before refocusing on rerooting.

You chuckle, “Ha! Feels like a lifetime ago. But, yeah, it really hasn’t been that long. Guess I just kinda lost touch.”

“Do you miss it? Do you miss being here?” Iris asks.

“Umm… honestly?” The both of them look up at you, eyes wide and expectant. “I thought I didn’t. L.A. can be blinding in that way. But now that I’m here, I feel a little more… myself. Not to mention that I’ve missed you girls soo much! C’mere!”

A niece under each arm, hugging your middle tightly, you can feel how much they’ve missed you as well. You want to be a better aunt to them. Your love for your family is as expansive as the family farm you marvel at in front of you. Acres of green going beyond the quaint garden near the house, with the barn just behind the rustic office and rec building where the farmers are currently gathered for lunch just a few feet away. But your feelings were much like half your sister’s employees as of late; they didn’t show, especially in crisis.

Through one of the windows, you catch sight of a familiar profile; hand to his temple pressing deep into his smooth, mahogany skin, thick, dark brows knitted together in concentration, plump lips puckered as he writes furiously, occasionally taking a bite of his sandwich. He must feel your eyes because he looks up to meet them, breaking focus from his working lunch. The hand that was to his temple is now raised for a tentative wave, just as the corner of his mouth is raised for a beautiful, sweet smile.

Your shoulders tense, your wave is curt, and your smile is barely there. You avert your eyes not wanting to see the effect of your abrupt actions.

“I know Keith is glad you’re back, too.” You look down to see Iris looking up at you, her 10 year old face contorted into her best suggestive look.

Ines rolls her eyes at her sister’s antics, “Oh, stop it! She’s already got the most perfect, dreamy boyfriend, remember?”

“Well, I’ve never met him. Have you? How do we know if he’s even real?”

“She’s got a point. Why haven’t we met him yet?”

“If he thinks he's too good to come down south, meet your family, let me tell you something Aunty, that’s not the kind of man you should be with.”

“I don’t think Aunty had ‘take dating advice from a child’ on her quarantine to-do list. Maybe he’s just busy; he is a movie star— correction— a superhero! Superhero equals stable income, stable income means husband material. Simple math.”

“Well, Keith has a stable and would never be too busy for her!”

“Keith runs a stable… a horse stable. Not exactly a selling point, right Aunty?”

“Aunty, tell her she’s wrong!”

The girls get to bickering and you wipe your forehead, not too sure if it’s from the heat or the interrogation you’re enduring. You check your watch. 1:39 pm.

“Shit!” Your exclamation silences your nieces as they whip their heads towards you. “Sorry ladies,” you offer an apologetic smile for the obscenity. “I, uh, gotta get ready for a call. Let’s turn it in early, yeah?” They race in the house without a second thought, and you trail behind them.

You remove your shoes in the mud room, then stalk down the hall toward the main part of the house. You wave to your sister as you pass her home office where she’s pacing, busy on the phone, swamped in paperwork. She waves you over with a confused face and shrugs as she sees her girls buzzing around.

You go to lean in the door jamb of her office as she asks, “What brings y’all inside so early? Wasn’t expecting you to be back in for another couple hours.”

“I have that FaceTime call at 2 I gotta get ready for, remember?”

“Right, right… remind me again. It’s for a writing gig?” she asks, sifting through her mountain of papers, as distracted as she was this morning when you told her your afternoon plans.

“Uh, no. It’s um, with… Chris,” your voice trails off with each word.

Your sister whips her head around, interest now piqued. “Really? That’s good, right?”

You shrug and sigh, indifference in your expression, “It’s, y'know… whatever, Mina.”

Wilhelmina furrows her brows, “What’s wrong?” Before you could contemplate an excuse, she puts a finger up to you, “Yes, thank you, I’m trying to get in touch with…” she answers to the person on the other line.

Your watch buzzes with your 15 minute reminder for your FaceTime with Chris. “I gotta go,” you tell your sister, before turning to head upstairs. The ascension to the second level feels like a death march, the impending doom of your relationship finally setting in. Each step feels increasingly weighted. Once at the top of the staircase, you pinch the bridge of your nose as if that will alleviate your anxieties.

“Let’s get you ready,” Wilhelmina’s maternal voice drifts to you as she comes up the stairs, melting your nerves a little. She shoots you a pity smile before ushering you into your guest room, where you make a B-line for the bathroom.

You take your time and delicately wash away the grime and sweat from your face. It’s like a Neutrogena commercial, the way you come up from the sink, staring yourself in the mirror. You take note of the creases in your forehead caused by your tense brows, the pain in your eyes, your overall sullen expression. And this feeling. This feeling is like being suspended mid-air, knowing the dreadful drop was any minute now.

You know very well who is in control of the drop. You just don’t know when you gave up that control to him. The only thing you can do now is go with grace. In an effort to have some sense of control, you did what anyone in your situation would do: You turned to Google.

“what to do when your boyfriend is about to break up with you” is what you typed into the search engine this morning. You felt like a teenager. Young and dumb. Like you’d never been in a relationship before. Like you’d never been broken up with before. None of this is new. And yet, it is. You hadn’t been here before. You hadn’t known this feeling before.

The feeling of knowing the one to make the dreadful drop happen is the same one that you love more than you knew was even possible, and damn did it hurt like hell. But could it have hurt more than knowing you’re the one that brought him to this point? Especially when you know these deep feelings are requited? The love is requited.

Who knows. You just file these feelings away for later in the hopes that it’ll inspire your pen. Right now it’s time to put on a brave face. You’ve gotten so good at it.

“So, what brought this on?” Wilhelmina inquiries after a few minutes of you lollygagging in front of the bathroom mirror.

“Oh, umm… well, he called last night. It was the first time we talked since—”

“You got here.”

“Yeah, but who’s counting,” your deadpan earns you a disapproving look from your sister. You’ve learned to ignore it. You check the time. 5 til. “Ugh, I don’t have time to pretty myself up. Breakups are ugly anyways; guess I’ll have to be, too,” you joke, leaving Whilelmina bewildered.

“Wait, what? You’re dumping him? I know it’s tough, trust me, I get it, but—”

“No... he’s gonna dump me,” you correct her.

“What would make you think that?”

“I don’t know, maybe cos he said ‘we need to talk… for real’,” you mock his deep voice; it’s how you read his text last night in your head, “and we all know what that means…”

“Hold up, it doesn’t necessarily mean that!”

“C’mon Mina! It’s textbook breakup prep!”

“Maybe for a teenager, but he’s a grown ass man. If he says he wants to talk, he probably just wants to talk.”

“Yeah, about dumping you…” Ines mumbles under her breath from the doorway. Wilhelmina stares daggers into her mouthy daughter, and she shrinks away to mind her business.

You continue to get ready, mainly focusing on laying your edges before finding a new shirt. “So, why would he suggest we quarantine separately knowing we had issues we were working on?” you debate your sister.

“Because like he said: you need some space. Totally normal for maintaining a healthy relationship.”

“Is it though? Cos when I say “I need space”, I’m thinking about making an exit. And that’s on a good, non-pandemic day. Hell, our issues alone would make me bow out. Now you add this stressful shit on top?”

“Then why haven’t you?”

Her simple question makes you stop in tracks, your brave face wavering for just a moment. “B-Because— it doesn’t matter. He’s ending things with me, in,” you check the time, “3 minutes. And I don’t blame him! I’ve been a mess lately! An emotional wreck lately! You should’ve heard me last night, it was gross!”

Wilhelmina starts to chuckle at your dramatics, but you can tell she’s laughing at you, not with you. “What’s so funny?”

“Sweetheart, you’d have to show emotions to be an emotional wreck. I think you skipped a few steps.”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes as you peel off your sweaty shirt and toss it in the laundry basket. You take your wash cloth to dab your underarms before putting on a nicer top. A proper shower will have to wait til later.

“I’ll have you know that I do, in fact, have emotions. I just channel them into my writing, to avoid sapping them all over any- and everyone… like some people I know,” you quirk your brow and tilt your head in Wilhelmina‘s direction.

“Girl, whatever! From what you told me, Chris is as much a romantic as I am, maybe even more so. You don’t hate it as much as you let on. Just admit it.”

You slowly turn away from Wilhelmina to primp yourself in the full length mirror. She follows you, glaring at you in hopes she will break you down. You decide to throw her a bone.

“Last night, I told him how we should’ve been together right now. There was even a quiver in my voice because I do really, really miss him. It was all so, so...” Your sister’s hands are clutching her chest, eyes glazed like she was watching a romcom. She’d finally gotten through to you. “… so pathetic.” Or so she’d thought. The sound of frustration that came from her amused you greatly, your eyes now glazed from crying of laughter.

“See, that’s what the hell I'm talking about! If he brings emotion— vulnerability— out of you, why do you resist? He’s worth keeping around, sis. I would think you: an artist, a writer for god’s sakes, would find some value in that.”

You stare straight ahead, fixing imaginary stray curls in your hair, and avoiding eye contact with Wilhelmina. She awaits your response, brows raised, neck craned toward you, hands below her chest with palms up, as if to say ‘Sooo...???’. You wondered how long she’d stay like that before you said something. “Are you done?”

Your sister sighs, and it’s quickly followed by ringing from your laptop. You both look in its direction, then at each other. The moment you’d been bracing for all day is here. You hesitantly move towards the chair at your desk where your laptop is sat.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Wilhelmina says before excusing herself. You almost didn’t want her to go. But you’ve got to be a big girl with a brave face.

“One last thing?” you twist in your chair to look at her in your doorway, “I know who made you believe that big girls don’t cry, but it’s bullshit. It’s good to feel. It’s okay to show it sometimes, too. Especially with the ones who showed and proved they won’t judge you for it,” she motions to your still ringing computer before closing your door.

You turn back to your desk, swallowing thickly. Here goes. You answer the call and Chris’ smiling face fills your screen. That beautiful face that’s worth doing right by.

“Hey baby! For a second there, I thought you wouldn’t answer,” he nervously chuckles.

You smile at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes. He senses your apprehension. Even through a screen, he’s perceptive. Chris starts to small talk, rambling about work and the weather, intending to ease your guard down before getting to the tough stuff. But it’s absolutely painful pretending to be strangers.

“Chris?”

“Yes honey?”

“I don’t wanna do this with you.”

Part 3

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #Chris Evans series #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans angst #chris evans x woc #chris evans series #chris evans #love lockdown series

120 notes · View notes

kbstories · 4 years

Text

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Domestic Fluff, Bakusquad, An Extended Scene About The Joys And Pains of Dyeing Hair

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. No additional content warnings apply. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.

***

⚡💖⛰️🎸📼

You have added Best Bakubro 💣💥!

You have changed the name from “⚡💖⛰️🎸📼” to “⚡💖💣⛰️🎸📼”!

hehehe we’re all set (sent 12:10)

welcome baku!! 💪🏻 (sent 12:10)

God 💡: 👀 (received 12:11)

Simply Mina: 👀👀 (received 12:11)

MT Tape: 👀 (received 12:11)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: shitty hair (received 12:13)

you promised!!! (sent 12:13)

no take backs 👀 (sent 12:13)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: fuck (received 12:13)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: okay two things (received 12:13)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: one i’m muting this so @ me or fuck off (received 12:14)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: two give me your names (received 12:14)

God 💡: wait srsly?? (received 12:15)

God 💡: c’mon bro it’s been months :( (received 12:15)

Simply Mina: yea wth blasty that’s so cold :(( (received 12:15)

MT Tape: answer the people explosion man @Best Bakubro 💣💥 (received 12:17)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: fine you’re staying random numbers then (received 12:18)

God 💡: OH (received 12:18)

God 💡: kaminari denki here!! (received 12:18)

MT Tape: this is sero 🙏🏻 (received 12:18)

Simply Mina: mina!!! (received 12:19)

Simply Mina: @Guitar Hero is kyoka 💖 (received 12:19)

Best Bakubro 💣💥

who? (received 12:19)

jirou!! (sent 12:19)

? (received 12:19)

🔌 (sent 12:20)

ah (received 12:20)

⚡💖💣⛰️🎸📼

Best Bakubro 💣💥: k (received 12:20)

God 💡: anyways (received 12:22)

God 💡: this is the best day of my life (received 12:22)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: shut it jolteon (received 12:22)

God 💡: dude i didn’t even @ u asdfkjsfk (received 12:22)

God 💡: wait omg is that an upgrade?? (received 12:23)

God 💡: did i get upgraded from pikachu to jolteon omg omg (received 12:23)

MT Tape: DIBS ON UMBREON (received 12:23)

MT Tape: we’re picking eeveelutions right? (received 12:23)

!!!! pls pls flareon pls!!! (sent 12:24)

Simply Mina: espeon or sylveon (received 12:24)

Simply Mina: espeon or sylveon??? (received 12:25)

Simply Mina: GUYS (received 12:25)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: this is a nightmare (received 12:25)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: and wtf espeon of course (received 12:26)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: better stats and none of that affection shit (received 12:26)

Simply Mina: the council has spoken (received 12:26)

what about flareon??? (sent 12:27)

plsplspls (sent 12:27)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: kirishima (received 12:27)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: it’s red. (received 12:28)

HELL YEAH ❤️ (sent 12:28)

Guitar Hero: hi what the HELL are you guys spamming about (received 12:30)

Guitar Hero: oh hey bakugou (received 12:30)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: plugs you’re glaceon (received 12:31)

Guitar Hero: i’m cool with that (received 12:31)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: good (received 12:31)

MT Tape: ok kiri i think i get it now (received 12:34)

MT Tape: putting every decision thru the baku filter is so much more fun (received 12:34)

right??? (sent 12:34)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: don’t fucking start (received 12:35)

Simply Mina: too late <3 (received 12:35)

God 💡: our trap card activated the moment you stepped into this chat man (received 12:36)

MT Tape: Bakugou Katsuki has been designated Chief Executive Brain (CEB) of the squad, effective immediately. (received 12:36)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: i’m leaving (received 12:37)

:( (sent 12:37)

MT Tape: … 👀 (received 12:40)

MT Tape: he ain’t leaving huh? (received 12:44)

God 💡: kiri’s puppy eyes once again confirmed as world’s strongest force (received 12:45)

Simply Mina: it’s kiri so we’re all safe tho <3 (received 12:45)

<3 (sent 12:45)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: for the record i hate all of you (received 12:46)

⚡💖💣⛰️🎸📼

Simply Mina: hey hey blasty (received 14:48)

Simply Mina: which eeveelution are you? (received 14:48)

Simply Mina: @Best Bakubro 💣💥 (received 14:50)

God 💡: 👀👀 (received 14:50)

👀 (sent 14:50)

MT Tape: 👀 (received 14:51)

Guitar Hero: ^ what they said (received 14:53)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: eevee, duh (received 14:56)

Best Bakubro 💣💥: i don’t need a type advantage to win (received 14:56)

😭 bro so manly (sent 14:56)

also (sent 14:57)

You have changed the name from “⚡💖💣⛰️🎸📼” to “🦊 Eevee Squad 🦊”!

Best Bakubro 💣💥: fucking fantastic. can we shut up now? (received 15:00)

Best Bakubro 💣💥

see? told u it’s fun 💪🏻 (sent 15:01)

i guess (received 15:02)

like i said u can just ignore the chat if ur not feeling it (sent 15:10)

they’re cool, they won’t mind (sent 15:10)

+ i’ll text u stuff directly if it’s important (sent 15:12)

kiri (received 15:12)

ok ok hhh just saying (sent 15:12)

i know (received 15:13)

you got that shit for ectoplasm yet? (received 15:17)

ummm (sent 15:17)

fucking knew it (received 15:17)

you coming or what? (received 15:22)

!!! o7 (sent 15:22)

Bakugou is staring.

Eyes on the page, Kirishima tries to focus on the function he’s been struggling to get for fifteen minutes now. Something about tangents and right angles? No, cotangents, which is different from a non-cotangent tangent because–

Bakugou has stopped writing a while ago, the fabric-covered pen resting loosely in his hand, his head propped up on a fist.

–the cosine does… something with the sine of X. Division? Maybe? X pops up in a bunch of places, actually, and Kirishima longs for the days math still featured numbers and not whatever nonsense this cos-sin-tan stuff is–

Bakugou is staring right at him, has been for ages now and Kirishima can’t help it. He looks up, only to catch Bakugou looking away, and huffs a nervous chuckle.

“Bro, c’mon. What’s up? Is there something on my face ‘cause you’ve been–”

“It’s black.” There’s a pensive twist to Bakugou’s brow. He breezes through the part of the problem Kirishima’s stuck on like it’s nothing, scribbled down in permanent ink like the monster he is. “Your natural haircolor. It’s black, right?”

“Uh, yeah?”

Kirishima picks his head up from where he’s slumped across Bakugou’s desk, the bean bag he’s sitting on shifting under his butt. Since when does Bakugou care about his hair? It hasn’t been black for over a year, anyways, so what does that have to do with…

“Wait, why do you–”

Bakugou’s eyes wander back to him, landing on Kirishima’s hair for barely a second but it’s enough. With a mortified noise, Kirishima slaps both his hands over his forehead – or more specifically, his roots.

Because Kirishima completely forgot he’s overdue on a redye for a good week and styled his hair as he usually does: gel evenly spread into carefully towel-dried strands, quirk on until it dries, done. He hadn’t looked into a mirror before heading to class or he would’ve seen his tips straying from cherry red to berry pink.

And that jet-black line where it’s growing back out. The roots that are the bane of Kirishima’s existence and that Bakugou saw.

Kirishima groans, curling into himself until his head hits wood with a dull donk. “How bad is it? Don’t spare me, bro, I need to know.”

That rhymes, the part of his brain not burning in the hellfire of shame chimes in. Kirishima firmly tells it to shut up.

“Your hair?”, Bakugou asks from an unknown realm beyond the bit of desk Kirishima’s staring at, a beat late. Probably to treat him to a glare he can’t see.

Kirishima rubs his forehead across his math homework in a miserable nod.

“It’s not more or less shitty than usual, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou scoffs. “What’s the big deal?”

“Oh, nothing”, Kirishima shrugs, his voice a fake-cheerful mumble, “Just that I’ve been walking around like this all day. A whole ass day. Kill me, now.”

“Nah. Wasn’t the idea to ‘die like a man in chivalrous battle’?”

Kirishima shoots him a dirty look. Bakugou doesn’t even bat an eye; he flashes his teeth in a bright smile and knocks his fists against each other, whispering “manly” under his breath and okay, why does Bakugou have to be good at everything, including impersonating Kirishima?

“I hate you”, grumbles Kirishima. Bakugou breaks character to cackle, only stopping after Kirishima balls up his pitiful attempt at math to throw it at his head. Bull’s eye, right on the forehead.

“Oi! That’s your homework, moron.”

“You started it”, Kirishima points at him with his pencil. His notepad is pulled closer with a deep, long sigh. “Now I gotta do this stuff again and stress about my hair. Amazing.”

Ah, the God-help-me eyeroll. It’s been a while. “Just go fucking dye it and come back if it bothers you so much. Can’t be that hard.”

“Says the blond guy”, Kirishima huffs. “Dude, do you even know how long getting rid of this” – a gesture to his roots – “takes? Black hair is a pain to bleach. Literally.”

Bakugou considers his hair with a frown. “…How long are we talking here? Like, an hour?”

A laugh, louder than Kirishima intends. “Try three. Sometimes more, it depends.”

“Three hours?!”

“Or more.”

A little smug, Kirishima watches disbelief bloom on Bakugou’s face. When it comes to this, destroying the innocence of the uninitiated is the only joy he’s got. There’s really nothing fun about sitting through those hours every six weeks, give or take – just plain, boring routine. At least he isn’t anxious about making mistakes anymore, not like his first few times.

It’s definitely worth it, though. Kirishima loves his red hair.

“And it, what. It hurts?”

Bakugou is still processing it seems, a hand going to his own hair. (It looks so soft, that even light color Kirishima has envied since the beginning of time. Such a nice base for any type of dye, especially bright ones or pastels.)

Kirishima scrunches his nose. “The developer does, yeah. Anything over 9% makes your scalp burn like crazy so I stick to 9% and do multiple rounds. I can’t go light enough for the red I want, otherwise.”

“And then the dye?”

“Then you dye it, yeah. Roots first, then the lengths in small strands, let it sit for twenty more minutes or so, rinse it out and then you’re done.”

It’s weird to explain things that have become totally obvious to him step by step, but Bakugou looks strangely fascinated by what he’s hearing. He does likes things to be more complicated than simple in basically any regard, Kirishima muses with a private snicker. Perhaps it’s not that surprising, after all.

“I use pure red on everything but you can mix colors, too, there’s a whole science behind that. And if you decide ‘Hey, I haven’t suffered enough!’, you can do individual highlights as well. But that’s a production all in itself! Ask Kami, he does some wild things to get that lightning bolt just right.”

Bakugou slowly shakes his head. “You people are crazy. That can’t be worth it.” He squints at Kirishima, hums to himself and starts nodding, instead. Vaguely terrified of what’s brewing in that brain of his, Kirishima waits for him to finish thinking.

“Let’s do it.”

There it is, a suitably terrible idea. Also: What?

“Color or highlights?” Kirishima sputters. “Wait, you or me? Bro, I can live with my own mistakes but dyeing your hair is too much pressure. Like, I’ll do it if you really want me to but, um–”

“Color. And you, obviously. Who of us is freaking out about hair, huh? Sure as fuck ain’t me.”

I’m not freaking out about it, Kirishima wants to say. Okay, he had been freaking out a little. Maybe. Not anymore, not with the mental image of Bakugou with Riot-red hair sort of making his braincells implode.

It’s impossible to imagine. Kirishima tries to anyways, fails, shakes his head. Focus!

“But…”

He draws a blank. Actually, Bakugou helping him with his hair does sound kind of fun. Until his patience inevitably runs out and he explodes the pot of dye, or something. Which could be hilarious, too.

“…Homework?”

(Not that he particularly wants to go back to puzzling over non-tangent cotangents – Ectoplasm always seems to know when he didn’t do the thing, though, and Kirishima hates disappointing his teachers more than he does the variable X.)

Bakugou sparks off in his direction. “We got three hours. 'nuff said.” He snatches up the math book they were sharing, Kirishima’s notepad and even the pencil out of his hand, and is out the room before Kirishima has fully registered they’re doing this.

“Shitty Hair!”

Kirishima jumps to his feet.

“Coming!”

“This is so damn messy. How’s your bathroom not stained to hell already?”

Coming up on their third round over his bathroom sink, Kirishima feels little sleepy as he blinks up at Bakugou. That expression of intense concentration hasn’t budged all three rounds, Bakugou’s hands steady yet gentle where they’re starting to dab red dye over freshly bleached roots.

There’s a dot of crimson on his cheek already. After forcing gloves on Bakugou and explaining to him how red pigment is the hardest to wash out – on clothes, skin, hair, wherever it lands – Kirishima isn’t inclined to point it out to him just yet.

“I asked admin about it. They said everything in our rooms is practically indestructible, including the sinks.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, right? They thought of everything, it seems.”

Bakugou continues. Kirishima dozes.

“Your hair is dry as fuck, by the way.”

Kirishima shrugs with his eyes closed, following the nudge to turn his head so Bakugou can get to the back. This is so much more comfortable than doing it by himself.

“Can’t be helped, man. The dye by itself is fine, actually, it’s the bleach that’s causes most of the damage. Oh well, with the gel it’s hard as concrete, anyways.”

“Mhmm. You’ll go bald by the time we’re outta here.”

“Hey!”

“Bald Hero: Red Riot”, Bakugou muses out loud, easily evading the kick Kirishima blindly aims at his shin. “Stop it, you’re gonna fuck up my hard work here.”

He’s smiling though, Kirishima can tell. It’s all in his voice, roughness replaced by warmth when it’s the two of them in Kirishima’s tiny bathroom.

“Stop dissing my hair, then. Besides, I know your secret.”

This Kirishima wants to see. He opens one eye and yup, Bakugou’s brows are doing the thing where they twitch and pull together. Not exactly a frown, more caught off guard than anything. Bakugou’s lips press shut, stubbornly silent as he brushes dye on every inch of Kirishima's hair.

Then: “I’m done. What am I s’posed to do with this shit?”

Kirishima glances at the pot Bakugou holds out to him. There’s still some of the thick liquid left.

“Just pour it on top. Can’t hurt and it’s better than throwing it away.”

Bakugou does exactly that. He tosses the empty pot and the thoroughly stained brush into the sink. Kirishima helps him wrap his hair in cellophane and a towel to reduce the possible mess, relocating to the closed lid of his toilet so Bakugou can take off the gloves and wash his hands.

“Okay, I’ll fucking bite. What secret?”

Lingering on the tension between them, Kirishima grins with all the confidence in the world. “That you like my hair.”

Bakugou barks a laugh. “After I went all Van Gogh on it? You better believe it’s good.”

“Nope, I mean before that”, Kirishima challenges.

“Proof?”, Bakugou shoots back without hesitation.

“Oh, I can give you proof.” Kirishima’s arms cross over the ratty shirt he always wears for this, its fabric dotted and streaked in interlacing shades of red. “One, it’s the first thing you noticed about me, hence ‘Shitty Hair’. Two, you were distracted by my roots growing in so you pay attention to how it looks–”

“I don’t–”

“–and three, you just spent hours dyeing it for me.”

Bakugou’s mouth snaps shut. He growls in his throat, grabbing an additional towel and drying his hands. Kirishima wasn’t aware those are actions that can be done aggressively but hey, he’s learning something new every day.

“Maybe”, Bakugou finally concedes. The towel is thrown in Kirishima’s face when all he does is smile. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Bakugou’s cheeks are dusted pink. Still, Kirishima shows the guy some mercy: Bakugou spent all afternoon fixing both his hair and his math homework, after all.

“Hey, Baku?”

“… What?”

“Thanks, man. You’re a good friend, you know that?”

Somehow, that makes Bakugou look even more flustered. “Whatever, Shitty Hair.”

Because Bakugou is Bakugou, namely a man who doesn’t know when or how to quit, he sticks around until Kirishima can rinse out the dye. He emerges from the shower feeling fully restored, a towel wrapped around his waist and his shirt draped over his shoulder.

“And that’s how you do it.”

Bakugou throws him a look from his sprawl on Kirishima’s bed, manga in hand. His gaze flicks to his hair immediately; his lips twist upwards, obviously satisfied.

“Told ya, it ain’t hard.”

Kirishima chuckles, shakes his head. “You’re so full of shit, dude.”

Now that the hair situation is under control for a few weeks, he realizes how hungry he is. The evening has barely begun, too, which means there’s time for a movie before Bakugou’s ridiculous sleep schedule comes a-knocking, either taking him out or making him cranky. Each scenario has about a fifty-fifty chance of happening.

“Hey, you wanna–”

Out of nowhere, his door bursts open to reveal one Kaminari Denki, out of breath and clutching a very familiar book to his chest.

“Kiri! Please tell me you guys figured out the–”

His eyes fall first on the splattered shirt on Kirishima’s shoulder, the trails of watery red dripping from his hair to his naked chest – and then on Bakugou, hands stained a faint red despite the gloves, that smear of color on his cheek Kirishima forgot to tell him about still very much there.

“Is that blood? What happened? Oh my–” Kaminari gasps. “Did you kill somebody?! Oh fuck, we have to hide the bo–”

“Kami”, Kirishima tries between bouts of laughter, “No, what the hell!”

A familiar cackle behind him does absolutely nothing to help their case.

>>Chapter 8.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kiribaku #bnha fanfiction #tumblr will 100% kill the formatting #this fic is also on AO3!! (again the format......)#anyhow final stop in fluff land before we dive into more angst next time :3c #my stuff

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otterbeesfanficblog · 4 years

Text

When neutron stars collide

(Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

EDIT: I’M SO FUCKIN DUMB I HATE MYSELF SO MUCH, I’M SO SORRY IT WASN’T Y/N THIS WHOLE TIME UGGGHHHHH!!!!!

Part 3: Compare And Contrast

Part 1: Steps Before The Starting Line Part 2: When A Star Chooses To Shine Part 4: From Where We Stand Part 5: You Would Be Angry Too...

[April]

"I know I shouldn't... but I feel powerful in this skirt."

You mumbled this to yourself, smiling proudly down at the skirt as it was when you walked. You were wearing the school uniform with leggings, comfortable dress shoes, and your shirt's top button was open as your tie was loose around your neck.

It took you en embarrassingly long time to figure out the tie, to the point you just asked Riji to help you, and as you made your way to UA, you couldn't help the slight pep in your step.

The voice that was angry before was vastly overpowered by your excitement, as normal kids were young their first days of school so they don't remember that moment of first. But here you were, 15 and your first time going to school was high school. At a well-known hero school at that.

To say you were a bit cocky was an understatement.

"Now, 1-A... 1-A... I knew this school was big but damn."

You held your school bag on one shoulder, it being emptied of the stuff you had in it before to be filed with needed school supplies.

"Oh, there it... the fuck?"

You stopped in front of a comically large door labeled 1-A, though you supposed that it made sense, seeing as there could be students (or teachers) that need a door this big.

"Well, here's goes nothing."

Sliding open the door, you were surprised to see maybe one 3rd of the class there. Glancing around you saw a seat open on the far side of the room in the front and you made your way over to that to claim it.

"Y/n!"

Your ears perk up to the sound of your name, turning you see Kiri quickly making his way over to you with a huge grin.

"See!? I told you we'd be in the same class!"

You smile and rub the back of your neck in a timid way.

"Yeah, guess you were right."

"So you're the girl that places second in the exam, huh!"

Looking over, you saw a pink skin and haired girl with horns speaking to you. She smiled at you kindly, coming up behind her were two other boys. One had blonde hair with a black lightning-like strike in it, the other plain black hair, and wore a friendly smile.

You felt a little over helmed with so many people, but you kept it under wraps and answered her timidly.

"Oh, well, yeah, that's me."

"We also heard you took down the 0 point robot all by yourself." The blonde hair boy spoke, giving you a wink. "That's pretty impressive."

"Eh... I had help from Kiri..."

"No way!" Kirishima shook his head, patting you on the back. "All I did was catch you, even then you took the brunt of it!"

"You and some other kid were the only ones to fight those things," The black-haired boy stated, smiling at you confidently. "You both took it down with one hit!"

"Other kid?" You tilted your head in confusion, Kirishima answered you first.

"There was a guy in center A that went after the 0 point bot too, he apparently knocked it in one go like you, then passed out!"

You felt heat rise to your face, you had cleverly forgotten about your own blackout during the exam.

The pink girl groan and threw her head back.

"You guys are already so cool, I'm so jealous."

"Oh, eh..." You pulled your bag off your shoulder and pulled out your astronomical theories book and set it on your desk to read while you wait for class to start, putting it down you waved her off. "I'm not really someone to be jealous of..."

You looked down at the floor with a frown.

"Trust me..."

"Come on, Y/n, you don't give yourself enough credit!" Kirishima cheered. "You did amazing and your quirk is out of this world!"

You stopped, looked him in the eyes and deadpanned.

"Was... was that a pun?"

He looked at you confused.

"Huh?"

"Anyway, my names Ashido Mina!" The girl held out her hand, which you took with your free one.

"Kaminari Denki, nice to meet you." The blonde, Kaminari, winked at you again.

"And I'm Sero Hanta." Sero, the black-haired one waved.

You smiled at them all and bowed at them a little.

"I'm Uchukyuzo Y/n, though you all might as well call me Y/n."

You all jumped with the door to the classroom slammed open, quickly turning to see what happened.

Standing in the doorway was a boy with spiky, light blonde hair, and a glare that went for miles. He glared around the room before scuffing and going over to the cubbies in the back.

Your new group of friends waved at you and walked over to the desks they were to be sitting in, while you watched the boy who just entered come down the aisle that you were in. Pulling out the seat to the desk behind you the boy glared at you, stopping his movements in sitting down.

"The hell are you looking at?"

You were caught off guard by his voice, not really expecting him to be so... rude. You just met and he was acting like you had both hated each other for years. You felt your blood grow warmer under your skin, and without being able to stop it, words slipped from your mouth.

"A rude little bitch, I guess." You glared back at him.

You heard someone in the room sputter and hold back a laugh, while the boy in front of you was shocked, then he was seating. Getting closer to you, his ruby red eyes glared daggers into you.

"The fuck did you say to me?!"

"I guess you're not only a rude bitch, but you're a deaf one too."

You didn't know why you felt the need to say anything to him, years ago, maybe even months ago, you would have let him get angry at you then let it go. But for some reason, the way he talked to you set a fire in you.

With no warning, you felt the front of your uniform get pulled into a fist, forcing you to drop your bag and step on your tiptoes. He held you up close to his face by the front of your uniform, glaring down at you as you matched his glare.

"Seems like you're asking to get your ass beat, space girl." He must have looked at the book on your desk as he growled in your face, you grabbed at his hand that was clutching your clothes with your own hand.

"I didn't think such a well-known school would let a delinquent like you in."

His hand that was free raised up into your view, and suddenly it smoked with small explosions coming from it. He gave a sick grin at you.

"You'd better stay outta my way, space girl, or you're gonna explode into an early grave."

You raised your own freehand, channeling the force you had collected thus far into your hand. Your hand glowed bright then poped with a small explosion like his, leaving little specks of light to fall as you continued to show off your own quirk with a smirk.

"I can do that too, smartass. The only difference is I can do it better."

He growled at you, and for a moment you thought you were actually going to fight, but then you heard a voice speak out.

"There will be no fighting inside the classroom!"

You both turn to see a tall boy with blue hair and glasses looking sternly at you both, the boy holding you dropped and pushed you back, scuffing out a 'whatever' before sitting down and throwing his feet up onto the desk.

Rolling your eyes and mutter out a curse you take the book from off your desk and put it back in your bag, you had a feeling you weren't going to get in any extra reading after that.

You walked past the red-eyed prick to the cubbies in the back, placing your stuff inside one before going back. You noticed now the blue-haired boy was scolding the red-eyed prick about having his feet up on the desk, which the prick didn't seem to care about at all.

You walked in front and sat in the desk, forcefully leaning back which made the pricks feet jolt back. You heard him growl at you, which made you smile, but you all sooner looked to the classroom entrance again to see someone standing there.

It was Midoriya, the kid you meet a while back, and was quickly approached by the blue-haired boy. The blue boy said something about him knowing something about the exam and him being better than him, but you couldn't stop the chuckle that left your mouth at this.

In the corner of your eye, you saw the prick staring at Midoriya, then stared at you. Not fearing his eye contact at all you turn to look him in the eyes, almost daring him to say something.

He bares his teeth at you in a sneer, to which you roll your eyes.

"Chill out, you angry pomeranian. I'm Y/n by the way."

"I don't care what your name is, idiot." He then looks out the window, avoiding your eyes, and you once again roll your eye.

"Just thought you should know the person you wanted to fight so bad."

You turn back around in your seat, watching from side glance the conversation happening at the door. You felt his eyes on the back of your head, though you decided to ignore it.

The first day at school and you already made an enemy.

"School is what you make it."

With a shake of your head, glancing at the boy behind you over your shoulder. He seemed to be lost in thought while looking at you, you took this as a moment to look at him better.

Ash-blonde hair, deep red eyes, fair skin, and a deep-seated frown on his lips. If you remember correctly, in any manga you've ever seen, he'd be the 'bad boy'. But, looking at him so lost in thought, the frown wasn't as harsh and his brows weren't strongly knitted together.

He looked like he was... reading you.

Going back to his eyes, you realize now it had been you who was staring. He didn't give you a scowl or sneer as you expected, his face just stayed blank as you both started at each other.

"I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa. Nice to meet you."

Snapping your eyes to the classroom door, standing there was Eraserhead, and apparently, as he just introduced, your homeroom teacher.

You sat forward and rubbed your eyes from straining them to look at the boy behind you, thinking about what Eras--... Mr. Aizawa said then mumbling out.

"What's a homeroom teacher...?"

"It's sudden, but put this on and go out onto the field." He reached into a sleeping bag he was holding, you must have missed why he had that, and showed off a different type of uniform.

Why were schools so admit on uniforms? And what's the difference between a homeroom teacher and a regular teacher?! You sigh knowing you were going to have to read up on the school system, among other things, once you got back in your dumpster.

-----

"A Quirk assessment test?!"

You stood next to Kirishima now in the school's gym uniform, looking on at Aizawa as everyone was confused or complaining about it. You heard 'quirk' and 'test', so you began subtly stomping your foot into the ground. You had a lot of potential energy already, but if you were going to be using your quick a lot today you would need to build up more.

"If you're going to become a hero, you don't have time for such leisurely events. U.A.'s selling point is how unrestricted its school traditions are." Turning back to the class, he spoke to you all. "That's also how the teacher run their classes."

You nod subtly, muttering under your breath.

"Makes sense..."

"You kids have been doing these since junior high, too, right? Physical fitness tests where you weren't allowed to use your quirks."

Your eyes go wide as you look around at a few people nodding, and only one thought went threw you're head.

'Oh fuck.'

Having never been to school, you'd never done tests before. You knew what they were and what they involved, at least at the most basic level. You even tried once to train yourself, but that quickly was put on the back burner for the things you needed to do to survive like find food and make sure you weren't followed and killed in your sleep.

Training and regular workouts were a luxury for people who didn't have to worry about if they'd live to see tomorrow.

"The country still uses averages taken from results from students not using their quirks. It's not rational. Well, the Ministry of Education is procrastinating."

You cross your arms over your chest and let out a sigh, your brows frowning as you think to yourself.

'I can see why some people hate school now...'

"Bakugou, you finished at the top of the practical exam, right?"

You stood straight and dropped your hands, looking over and seeing the rude boy from before standing at attention. Everyone turned to look at him as Aizawa continued.

"In junior high, what was your best result for the softball throw?"

"67 meters." The boy, Bakugou, replied.

"Holy shit!"

You slap a hand over your mouth and look at the ground, already knowing and feeling people turn to look at you from you not so muttered outburst.

You were still tapping your foot into the ground this whole time, which had made a slight hole in the ground. You sorta wish you could blast a hole into the ground and just lay down and die in it, because why the HELL WOULD YOU SAY THAT OUT LOUD!?

"Anyway," Aizawa got the class' attention again. "try doing it with your quirk."

Bakugou made his way over to a marked circle on the ground while Kirishima gave you a pat on the back, you softly groan and lay your head in your hands and Aizawa begins to explain.

"You can do whatever you want as long as you stay in the circle. Hurry up. Give it all you've got."

You raise your head from your hands to watch, he stretched his arm first the raised them out and up while holding the ball. Reeling his arm back and leaning forward, he put everything he had into throwing it.

"Die!"

A huge blast came from his hand, sending the ball far into the sky. You heard someone mutter 'die' in an echo of what Bakugou had shouted, you also had a question about that but after thinking about his attitude this morning you suspected it was just... him.

"Know your own maximum first," Aizawa said, looking at his phone that must have held the information for the test.

None of you saw it land, but as Aizawa turned around and showed you, you all couldn't help but feel a little intimidated.

"That is the most rational way to form the foundation of a hero."

"750 meters? Seriously?" Kaminari stumbled out, looking over at you. "Now that deserves a 'holy shit'."

"I just met you today, but I can and will punch you." You said blankly, making him slouch in defeat and Kirishima chuckle a bit.

"What's this? It looks fun!" Ashido said with a chirp to her voice.

"We can use our quirks as much we want! As expected from the hero course!" Sero exclaimed, his hands clutched tightly in excitement.

Kirishima smiled over at you, but you couldn't feel the same excitement as the others, you only felt more intimidated by their joy.

"'It looks fun,' huh?"

At the sound of Aizawa's voice, everyone quieted down.

"You have three years to become a hero. Will you have an attitude like that the whole time?"

You were all silent in response, he smirked and continued.

"All right. Whoever comes in last place in all eight tests will be judged to have no potential and will be punished with expulsion."

Your heart dropped into the core of the earth at this, as did everyone else's around you when they all exclaimed confusion.

You'd been a fan of Aizawa's hero work for a long time and he didn't seem like a man who would joke around much, let alone about something like this. He took heroing seriously.

'As he should,' Your thoughts cut in, making you pause. 'I didn't come to this school to fuck around. I came to this school to get off the streets and be the best goddamn hero the world has ever seen, I came to prove that even someone as low as a fuckin cockroach like me can be a hero too'

"We're free to do what we want about the circumstances of our students." Aizawa brushed some hair from his face as he smiled at all you panicked students. "Welcome to U.A.'s hero course!"

With frowned brows, you clench your fist and started bouncing on the balls of your feet, already flowing with potential power. You couldn't lose, not at any of the tests. Unlike the students around you, you had to prove you were meant for this.

Not to say they weren't working hard to get here, but Principle Nezu had told you straight up during your meeting.

"If you weren't so heroically driven, if you were anyone else, you wouldn't be here."

You would show them all, that a homeless girl with only her name and her pride, would become the best damn hero in the world.

"Last place will be expelled?" Some girl with brown hair exclaimed in somewhat of a whine. "But it's the first day of school! No, even if it wasn't the first day of school, this is too unfair!"

You couldn't stop yourself from glaring at the back of her head, scuffing at her words.

"Natural disasters, big accidents, and selfish villains. Calamities whose time or place can't be predicted. Japan is covered with unfairness." Aizawa stared down the class, and though you could have been wrong, you felt as if he was talking about you as well.

You glared down at the ground, no longer bouncing on your feet, instead lost in thoughts of all the unfairness that has happened to you. But you shake your head with a sigh, now wasn't the time for a pity party.

You were professional.

You waited till you were back in your dumpster to cry, like an adult.

"Heroes are the ones who reverse those situations. If you wanted to talk with your friends at Mickey D's after school, too bad. For the next three years, U.A. will do all it can to give you one hardship after another. Go beyond. Plus Ultra." Aizawa then waved his finger at you all. "Overcome it with all you've got."

You looked down at the palms of your hands, letting them glow with power which made it look like stars were falling from your hands in a mist-like waterfall. You felt more determined than before, ready to show him you were worth the time of day.

"All right, demonstration's over. The real thing starts now."

-----

The first test was a 50-meter dash, which you had seen on tv in a store window before. Watching the others go before you was... interesting.

For some, the dash was their element, as easy as breathing. For some, they didn't look to be the best.

You were going after Midoriya and Bakugou with Kirishima at your side, which you were glad for. You knew his quirk and also knew he wouldn't laugh at you, because if you were honest... You had no idea what the hell was going on.

Midoriya and Bakugou got ready as the little robot sensor called out to get ready, then as the bot shot of a small bang they ran. As expected, Bakugou used his explosive quirk to propel himself forward almost like a jetpack.

Crossing the finish in no time, the bot announced 4.13 seconds as his time, which made your heart lurch into your throat.

"I'm glad I couldn't find any food today..." You put a hand to your stomach as Midoriya finished as well, going to a hunch with his hands on his knees.

"What do you mean?" You jumped, forgetting Kirishima was next to you. You waved your hand, not wanting to tell him or anyone that you had to scrounge for food like an animal every day.

"Oh, nothing."

"We're next, you ready?" He smiled at you as if not at all worried about failing. You couldn't even make yourself grin back as you both made your way over to the starting point, all you could respond with was a groan.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Run?" Kirishima seemed confused why your question as he stretched his body out, looking on you copied his movements and then he seemed to understand.

"Oh, I see, you're nervous."

"Really?" You exclaimed in fake surprise. "I hadn't noticed...."

"Oh come on, you'll do great. Just think of something you'd run for and use your quirk with it, I know it's hard to think about using your quirk since you've never really done it during a test before, but I believe in you!"

'I've never done one of these tests at all'. You thought to yourself.

You and Kirishima got low to the ground, hearing the bot count you off. You were still nervous as hell, but you were going to use that nervousness as power.

"Think about something to run for..."

"Get set!"

Suddenly, you imagined the most beautiful thing at the finish line. Without even realizing it, your whole body glowed and a stary mist came off you.

BANG

Your feet barely met the ground as all you could think about was what was at the finish line, you weren't even aware of what was going on around you.

You then landed face-first on the ground beyond the finish line.

"2.09 seconds." The bot called out, you still laid on the ground, face in the dirt and unmoving.

You then heard someone running up beside you, the bot say off a time while they were panting but looking down at you with awe and concern.

"What the hell, Y/n? Not only did you blind me for a second, but you were also over the finish line in no time! That's amazing! What were you thinking of that made you go that fast?!"

It was Kirishima who was talking to you, but a few of the people you met today were coming up to you as well. You got up to your hands and knees, then fell back to sit on your heels and looked off far in front of you with heat covering your face, ears, and even traveling the length of your neck.

You were not about to tell them the reason you went so fast was because you were thinking about the comfiest bed in the world surrounded by comfortable clothes and endless amounts of food...

How embarrassing.

-----

The second test was a grip strength, which you knew you had none of, even with your quirk. For that test, you got 62.3 kg which was decent, but you knew you would have to work on that.

The 3rd test was 'standing long jump', which you just barely manage to land without falling over at the end. You felt bad for Midoriya though, watching as the tests went on, he seemed to be getting less and less confident.

4th was repeated side steps, which you were also not that good at. You watched a boy pull off purple spheres from his head, place them on the ground, and bounce off them from side to side. It was creative, that's for sure.

5th was the ball throw, the brow hair girl from before went and you all watched the ball disappear into the sky. You all waited for a while, then watched Aizawa turn and show you the results, which just had an infinity sign on it and you all exclaimed in awe.

"That's amazing! She got "infinity"!" Kaminari looked on with shock and slight fear, you assumed because he was sure no one, especially himself, would do better.

You were to go after her then Midoriya would go after you.

You took the ball in your hand, walked into the circle, and before you had done so you had taken off your shoes and were left in your black socks.

"Why'd she take her shoes off?"

"Think it has something to do with her quirk?"

"She had her shoes on before?"

You started to block out the class' voices as you jumped in place, making sure to really feel the vibrations of the ground beneath you. You also took in the air around you, the sun shining on your skin, the sounds of the wind along with their voices.

Though you knew you couldn't gain much potential energy from that stuff, you wanted as much power as you could behind this one. Infinity was not something you were going to beat, but you'd be damned if you weren't going to shoot for it.

So, standing still now, you reeled back. Your body and eyes glowed with power, the stary mist once again leaking of your body. Then, with a shiny glint, you leaned forward and put all your power into your arm, then hand, and finally your finger. You made the ball gain power along the parts of your body like a bullet, and the ball flew.

You watched it fly in the air, and it was bright and looked as if it was a shooting star in broad daylight.

Your eyes drooped and you felt a wave of exhaustion hit you, turning around to the class, no longer caring where the ball dropped, you unintentionally looked cocky as you yawned and Aizawa showed your score.

"1056.8?!"

Everyone yelled as you walked back over to the group, yawning again and rubbing your eye with the back of your hand. Walking past Bakugou, you heard him scuff at you, but you ignored it as Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido congratulated you and asked you how you did that.

Normally you would have answered, but at the moment you didn't have the energy to do so, instead, you watch Mirdoriya take his mark in the circle. Without knowing it, Kirishima pulled you over to him a little closer and leaned you on his shoulder, which made it hard for you to keep your eyes open.

"It doesn't look good for Midoriya if he continues like this." It was the boy in glasses that spoke, Bakugou giving him a dirty look in response.

"Huh? Of course not. He's a quirkless small fry, you know."

"Huh?" You, still tired as you were, perked up at what he said. "Quirkless?"

The glasses boy seemed to have a much more surprised response to that.

"Quirkless?! Are you not aware of what he did in the entrance exam?"

"Oh..." You looked at Midoriya who was concentrating very hard, then you nod and look over and up at Kirishima from your spot on his shoulder. "So he was the other kid that killed the no pointer."

"Other kid?" Bakugou glared at you, looking at you like you just spit strawberry milk in his face.

"You didn't know?" Kirishima, still allowing you his shoulder to lean on, reached around and gave you a pat on your other shoulder. "Y/n here destroyed the 0 point bot in her exam as well, one hit was all it took."

"Huh??" Now Bakugou's glare like was like a hot iron pan, looking at his red eye stabbing back at you. You were too tired for his attitude, so you looked away from him, which apparently he didn't like and got close and stood in front of your view of MIdoriya.

"Don't ignore me like you're some big shot, shitty star girl!!"

You weakly cover your ears and try to lean around him, your eyes still half-lidded.

"Can you stop fuckin' yelling, we all hear your loud ass. Now move over, I can't see past your inflated ego."

You swore you could see a vein pop out of the side of his forehead, but he turned when you heard Midoriya give out a shout while throwing the ball.

The ball went flying threw the sky and disappeared out of sight...

At least, that's what you thought it would have done.

But, it gently landed not too far away, the bot almost mocking him as said his score.

"46 meters."

"I... I was definitely trying to use it just now." Was all you heard him mutter as he stared at his hands in disbelief.

"I erased your quirk."

Turning to Aizawa, you clenched your heart and sputtered at what you saw. Standing before you was not Aizawa, instead, it was Eraserhead. His all too famous scarf circling his body as if it were another part of himself, his hair stand and flowing tall, and his eyes glowed red with his activated quirk.

You didn't have one, you've never actually had one before, but man you wish you had a camera at the moment.

"That entrance exam was definitely not rational enough. Even a kid like you was accepted."

You felt a ping in your chest at his words, feeling as if he wasn't just talking about Midoriya. Maybe you were reading into it too much, growing up you had to read people and quick.

"You erased my quirk?" Midoriya muddled, then gasped as he finally realized who your homeroom teacher was.

"Those goggles... I see! You can erase other people's quirks with your quirk just by looking at them. The Erasure Hero: Eraser Head!"

Your group of classmates then began muttering together, apparently not at all knowing who Eraserhead was. You pretended not to be offended by them not knowing one of your favorite heroes, continuing to watch Aizawa speak with Midoriya with great focus.

Your focus, of course, didn't go unnoticed by a certain ruby eyed boy.

"From what I can tell, you can't control your quirk, can you?" He glared at Midoriya, his quirk still activated as Mirdoriya stood stunned.

"Do you intend to become incapacitated again and have someone save you?"

You thought back to your own exam, you had also passed out after you had taken down the bot, not right away but still. You had used a lot of energy on it just to break it, let alone when you overused the energy you had left to keep you and Kirishima from plummeting to the ground and break like a couple of eggs.

"Th-that's not my intention--"

Midoriya didn't have time to finish as Aizawa's scarf pulled him in close, he still glared at Midoriya.

"Whatever your intention, I'm saying that's what those around you will be forced to do. In the past, there was an oppressively passionate hero who saved over a thousand people by himself and created a legend. Even if you have the same reckless valor, you'll just be decked and turn into a useless doll after saving one person."

"Izuku Midoriya. With your power, you can't become a hero."

Even you were hooked at his words, though a darker part of you said he was right and that Midoriya without power would be nothing.

Looking down at your hands, you clench your fist because without your power... You would have been dead a long time ago.

"I've returned your quirk. You have two turns for the ball throw. Hurry up and get it over with."

You stop leaning off Kirishima and move away from the group, not far enough for Aizawa to ask what you were doing, but far enough for you to stand on your own while looking at Midoriya.

Unknowing to you was a few of your classmates worrying about you... well, one was worried the other was wondering what you were thinking about.

Your thoughts were thinking of what Aizawa said and how it applied to you as well, how all the teachers that knew about you must be thinking of you. There was no possible way that they didn't know you were living on the streets already, you showed the signs of it and certainly showed it when you were at your exam.

Did they really not want you here? They probably didn't want the public to know they let in a stray. No, that couldn't be that Nezu wouldn't have let you in the school if so. He wouldn't have helped you understand school.

Were they using you for clout? Did they want you to become a hero to say you graduated from their school? Why did you even attend this school? You could have just as easily become a young hero with no help from anyone.

Part of you knew you were thinking too much, but that part was slowly being consumed by self-doubt.

"Smash...!"

You look up just as the ball rockets out of Midoriya's hand, shooting far into the sky and making you all stare in awe at.

"Mr. Aizawa..." Turning to Aizawa with a broken finger and clutched his hands with a strained smile. "I can still move!"

Everyone was shocked and excited by his achievement, getting just above Bakugou's score. Speaking of, you turn to look at Bakugou, but while watching him you're head round out the noise of anyone else.

His mouth hung wide open and he looked as if he had just gotten hit by a semi-truck, his body shaking from shock and ... rage.

"Oh no..." You mutter, bringing up a hand to your face.

You had only known this boy for a day and you could just feel he was about to pull some dumb shit, but were you going to stop it...?

Absolutely not.

"What is the meaning of this?" Explosions came from his hands as he suddenly dashed at Midoriya. "Hey! Tell me what's going on, Deku, you bastard!"

Midoriya, only focusing on his finger before, now had the fear of god's rage pass through him as he did nothing but scream and shake at the quickly approaching raging boy. All too soon a familiar scarf shot out and latched onto Bakugou which immediately stopped him in his tracks with a hard tug on his chest and head.

You cover your mouth to poorly cover up a chuckled that left your chest feeling light, a smile gracing your face as you walked back over to the class, taking a stand next to a highly confused Kirishima. You had no problem admitting it, you were enjoying this thoroughly.

"What the--? These cloths are hard..!"

"They're weapons for capture made of carbon fiber woven together with metal wire made of a special alloy." Aizawa explained, holding back Bakugou as Midoriya no longer feared for his life. "Jeez..."

Aizawa glared at the two boys.

"Don't keep making me use my quirk over and over. I have dry eye."

It's such a waste since his quirk is so amazing!

After releasing his scarf from Bakugou and also ending his quirk, the scarf wrapped around his neck once more and his hair dropped into place.

"So cool... and hot."

You hadn't even realized you said this out loud until not only Kirishima was looking at you funny, but Aizawa turned to glance back at you, his eyes narrowing on you.

You actually felt your soul leaving your body, Kirishima held you under your arms and fanned your face quickly, quietly telling you not to go towards the light.

"We're wasting time. Whoever's next, get ready. "

After knocking out of your close to fainting spell, you watched Midoriya made a wide circle to get around Bakugou to go back to the classes group. You hand put you burning head in your hands, peaking through your fingers as Kirishima rubbed your back telling you it was fine.

But you were more worried about Bakugou, who glared over his shoulder at Midoriya. He called him 'Deku' which... had to mean there was a past between those two. You wondered what kind, what it was like growing up for those two. As a kid, a lot of what happened to you becomes the reason of who you are as you grow.

What happened to Bakugou that made him so angry at the world?

Bakugou turn and locked eyes with you, making you drop your hands from your face and tilting your head at him. He sneered at you and quickly looked away, walking over to a place no one else was standing.

Ah, you thought to yourself, I see now.

A superiority complex.

-----

The rest of the tests were simple.

Sit-ups, which not only took you a while to understand, but you were shit at it.

Seated toe-touch, which you were personally proud to say you were flexible as hell.

And Long-distance run, which wasn't hard for you since you had a lot of running experience in your life.

Over this whole time, you were partnered with Kirishima, who was more than happy to be partnered with you. You both subtly talked about a lot of different things while doing your tests, like how he loves meat and the scar he had on his eye was actually caused when his quirk came to be.

You had opened up about a few things as well. You told him how you've never been inside a car or bus into the day of your exam, you told him how much you loved learning and how if you could live in a library you would, you even told him that you had run from the police once (You had run from them a lot more than once but you weren't going to tell him that).

Now you all stood in front of your teacher, ready for you're results.

"Okay, I'll quickly tell you the results. The total is simply the marks you got form each test. It's a waste of time to explain verbally, so I'll show you the results all at once."

Kirishima stood confidently next to you, you were pretty confident you did fine as well. To be honest, you didn't come in last of any of them, that lovely place was held by the boy who broke his finger.

Aizawa displayed the results projected from his phone and you and Kirishima quickly looked for your names.

Kirishima gasped and threw his arm around your shoulder bringing you into a side hug, you pat his arm with your own smile.

7. Y/n Uchukyuzo 8. Eijiro Kirishima

"Hell yeah, top ten!"

You chuckle at his excitement looking at all the other results. Upon seeing 'Izuku Midoriya' in 21st place, you grimace and look behind you had the boy. He looked so disappointed in himself as he glared at his broken finger, you then wondered what really was up with his quirk that made it so dangerous to use, even for himself.

"By the way, I was lying about the expulsion."

Silence range through you all as Aizawa said this, his face growing with a weird smile as he continued.

"It was a rational deception to draw out the upper limits of your quirks."

"What the fuck!?" You screamed, along with a few others who were freaking out. Upon you screaming, Kirishima took his arm off you and held them up in defense, smiling as you glare over at him.

"Did you fuckin know, shark boy?!"

He flinched and began a nervous sweat, waving his hands at you and shaking his head as you glare up at him and he feared for his life.

"Eh?! No way, dude!"

"That was a little nerve-wracking, huh?" Sero turned to you and Kirishima, chuckling a little as you glared up at him as well.

"I'll take up the challenge anytime!" Kirishima said, clutching his fist in a pound manner. He quickly put his hands down at his side going stick straight as you glared at him again, he smiled and looked anywhere but you.

"I don't know why you were worried, Y/n, you did great. You're in the top ten." Sero placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to take the heat you had on Kirishima off a bit. Both boys laughed a little as you sighed and your body went limp, shoulders slouched and head down as you suddenly felt tired all over again.

"It wasn't just that..." You mutter, thinking about everything that could have happened if you were kicked out of the school.

But with a shake of your head, you denied thinking about it and turn back to Aizawa.

"With that, we're done here. There are handouts with the curriculum and such in the classroom so when you get back, look over them."

You gently elbow Kirishima in the chest, him and Sero still chuckling at your reaction. To them, you were nothing short of adorable at the moment so they couldn't help but want to fawn over you while you pout and cross your arms, turning away, huffing in annoyance.

"Midoriya--" You look over and see Aizawa handing Midoriya a slip of paper. "Have the old lady fix you in the nurse's office. Tomorrow will be packed with even more rigorous tests. Prepare yourself."

"Hey, Y/n."

You turn your eyes away from Aizawa and Midoriya to look at Kirishima, who was smiling at you with a dumb look in his eyes, which made you sigh.

"You're giving off dumb-bitch vibes right now, so as long as it has nothing to do with me being naked, I'm in."

Kaminari, who had Y/n slowly making his way over to you're group, sputtered at hearing something about you naked and he blushed while laughing his ass off. Kirishima laughed while looking confused, Sero also laughing at what you said.

He shook his and rubbed his neck.

"You're something else, Y/n."

Glancing past the group of boys in front of you, you look to the one ruby eyed one who was staring at you from far away. You both stare at each other, ultimately, he was the one to glance away but you continued to stare as you respond to Kirishima.

"Yeah... I try to be."

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha x reader #bnha x female reader #mha x reader #mha x female reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #x female reader

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comicgeekscomicgeek · 5 years

Text

Their Hero Academia: Chapter 15

As always, raw and unedited until it gets added to AO3 and FF.net. This chapter also owes a great deal to my friend, Allie, who suggested some of the dialog in this chapter, as well as some of the details surrounding Kenta Sato’s mom that I had never planned for originally.

Chapters 0-12 can be found here.

Chapter 13 (unedited) is here

Chapter 14 (unedited) is here

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 15: Kenta Sato and the Pain of Memories and Moving On

Many years ago…

“Kenta,” Takuma asked, “can I ask a question?”

He looked up from his bowl of cereal. Ever since his Quirk came in, he hasn’t had to worry about getting cavities, so he can eat all the sugary cereal he wants. “Sure,” he said.

“Do you miss your mommy?”

Kenta looked down again. “All the time. But Daddy says she’s always watching me.”

“Oh,” Takuma said. His grin became what, in later years, Kenta would call his “Good Idea” face. “Do you think you could ask her not to watch for a little while? I don’t think she’s going to like my idea…”

“…I’ll ask her to watch Daddy for a little while.”

***

In spite of a somewhat eventful Monday through Thursday, Friday had passed without incident, and Kenta had left the school grounds early on Saturday morning to head to the apartment he shared with his dad. It wasn’t particularly far, as Dad has moved the two of them to it to be fairly close to U.A. when he had accepted the job running the cafeteria.

Kenta turned the key and stepped inside. “Dad? I’m home!”

No voice answered him, but he knew that sometimes, his dad got so focused working in the kitchen that he didn’t hear anything else. Kenta headed there, but found no sign of his dad. There was, however, a note on the counter.

Kenta,

Went out to pick up a few extra ingredients for tonight’s dinner and dessert. Left you some breakfast on the counter. Be back soon!

Love,

Dad

Oh, well, that was good. But speaking of food, his rumbling stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten breakfast before he’d left the dorms. On the counter was a bowl of nuts and bolts. It brought a grin to Kenta’s face. Dad may have occasionally groused about the eating habits he’d developed because of his Quirk (“A house full of food and the kid’s eating rocks!”), but he was indulgent enough to keep the kinds of things Kenta liked to eat on hand. He popped a few nuts into his mouth and chewed them up.

Maybe his wasn’t the flashiest or most impressive of Quirks, but he’d done good enough with it to get into the Heroics Course. Besides, it meant that a snack was always in arms’ reach.

He noticed that his dad’s cell phone was also sitting on the counter. He must have forgotten it when he left. It looked like a number of texts had come in since he’d left.

1) Koda: Please call me if you need me today, Sato.

2) Kirishima: Katsuki and I are thinking of you, bro!

3) Ojiro: Hope you’re doing all right. Toru and I are keeping you in our thoughts.

4) Sero: Hey, man. I’m sorry about Mina. She means well, but she can be kind of insensitive sometimes. Let us know if you need anything!

5) Midoria: I know you’re spending the day with Kenta, but just let us know if you want to get together sometime after that!

6) Iida: Please accept my deepest sympathies and know Mei and I are keeping you in our thoughts.

7) Habuko: I’ll see you there today. Be well.

8) Pink Trouble: Sato, I’m not sorry about what I said. But I am sorry about the timing of it. Call me. Please.

Kenta felt a little guilty reading his dad’s texts, but considering they were right there to be seen, it wasn’t much. But now we was curious. What exactly had Aunt Mina said? It looked like she and his dad were fighting? But what about? The other texts, at least, weren’t unexpected. There were probably more that had come in earlier in the day. Kenta had been lucky enough to get out of the dorms without running into anyone other than Takuma (who’d hugged him), Midoriya (who’d expressed sympathy) and Kirishima-Bakugo (who’d given him a polite nod that was the emotional equivalent of a long conversation for her). Not that he was deliberately trying to avoid his friends and classmates, just… today was rough.

The anniversary of the day his mom had died always was. It had been ten years now. And it still didn’t seem any easier.

***

Rikido Sato had first met Chizu Ito via a conspiracy. She had been a friend of Habuko Mongoose at Isamu Academy, and Mongoose had been the good friend of his father’s friend Tsuyu Asui. So when several of the girls of Isamu Academy had gotten together for a party with the girls of U.A., Aunt Tsu had asked his dad to provide the desserts. He’d meant to just drop the desserts off and go, but Aunt Tsu and Mongoose had both insisted he stay and meet some of the girls. They’d been incredibly insistent that he meet Chizu.

The two had hit it off and made plans for a date. One date turned into many, and many turned into marriage. Years later, Aunt Tsu would reveal she and Mongoose had conspired to get the two to meet, believing that they would hit it off. They had been very happy.

His mom had been a tall woman, taller even than his dad. Her Quirk had been a strong one, letting her absorb inorganic matter and using that to increase her mass and strength. But his memories of her were as a happy woman, with a glowing smile. He remembered her hands were soft, soothing as she held him after a nightmare, her touch gentle when she patched up his “ouchies.” He remembered his parents laughing in the kitchen, or snuggling on the couch, sneaking kisses when they thought he wasn’t looking.

After he’d been born, his parents had decided that while his mom would resume active Hero work, his dad would mostly step back from that. Lunch Rush was retiring, U.A. was looking for a new head chef to run the cafeteria, and both of them were a little bit worried about what might happen if both of them were active Heroes. While that didn’t seem to matter to the majority of their friends, no one dismissed their worries or thought less of him for taking a step back. He still went out on occasion when needed, or stepped in where he was available to act, but he devoted himself more to community outreach and the students of U.A. So Upsize had risen back in the rankings, eventually becoming the Number Twenty Hero, and Sugarman had happily dropped to the lower tiers.

They’d have a good life. They’d been a happy family.

He had been five when she’d died.

No, that wasn’t exactly right.

He had been seven when she’d been killed.

It had been bad times. A new League of Villains had tried to get off the ground, and the Pro-Hero community had been working nonstop to put them out of commission before anything serious could happen. They hadn’t been the nihilistic League of old, just a bunch of Villains who had found they were stronger together than apart, and willing to settle for smaller piece of a more guaranteed pie. But they had been a serious threat all the same. Their Quirks were powerful and many Pro-Heroes had been seriously injured fighting them.

It had come down to a big battle between the League and several Pro-Heroes, including Red Riot, Real Steel, and Chargebolt. Including Upsize.

To say the battle between the two groups had been brutal was an understatement. The villain known as Strongarm had nearly beaten Red Riot to death. Kirishima-Bakugo’s father was lucky to have survived his injuries, let alone have recovered from them enough to return to active Hero work. Uncle Denki still carried a few scars from that fight.

And his mom… His mom had fought a Villain called Hexsplode, who a Quirk which let her shoot beams from her eyes that made whatever it hit explode. In a terrible set of circumstances, she’d managed to use that power on a piece of rubble, just as his mom had absorbed it. It had exploded within her, badly injuring her. She had fought on, subduing the Villain before she could hurt anyone else in that fight. But her injuries had been too severe and she’d died before she could receive medical attention. They’d never even gotten the chance to say good-bye.

***

It was called Valhalla Cemetery and everyone buried in it was a Pro-Hero. Many had fallen in the line of duty, others of disease or natural causes. But all of them had used their Quirks in the cause of justice. Grand Torini was buried here, so was Native, and so were many others.

And so was his mom.

Kenta and his dad walked silently through the rows of headstones and memorials, occasionally pausing to pay respect to another Pro-Hero. There were so many graves and his mom was quite far back.

It wasn’t the fanciest headstone in the cemetery, but like everything there, it was well cared for. There were a few small tokens left on or around it, from people his mom had saved during her all too brief stint as a Pro-Hero. There was already someone standing in front of the headstone and Kenta quickly realized it was Aunt Habuko, instantly recognizable from her shock of red hair and snake-like head. According to his parents, he’d found her absolutely terrifying as a baby, but the only memories he had of her were happy ones. She was surprisingly funny when she wanted to be, and caring in spite of her harsh appearance.

Her tongue flicked out and she turned her head to watch the two of them. “Hello, Rikido, Kenta. I didn’t expect to beat you here.”

“My fault,” his dad said. “I had to go out and pick up a few things and was running behind.”

She nodded, accepting the explanation without criticism.

They stood and looked at the grave.

Chizu Sato

-Upsize-

5/19/XXXX – 4/8/XXXX

Beloved wife and mother, Hero

His dad laid a hand on the headstone and lowered his head. Kenta could see the tears in his eyes falling unashamedly. “I miss you, babe,” he said. “Every day. Thank you, for everything. Never did think a girl could fall for a big lug like me. You made every day amazing.

“You’d be so proud of Kenta. He got into U.A., just like me. He’s gonna make us both proud, I just know it. Though if you’re watching out for him, maybe tell him not to listen to Takuma so much, okay?”

In spite of himself, Kenta felt the smallest smile pull at his lips. But he found tears were falling from his own eyes too. He’d been so young when she’d died. Their home was filled with pictures of him and his mom and of all three of them. There were lots of videos they had shot over the years. And even one memorable episode of Cooking with Pro Heroes that had featured his mom and dad competing against other Pro Hero couples.

But sometimes, he found it harder and harder to remember her voice. His dad had gone an amazing job raising him, dealing with all the challenges that had arisen over the years. But all his friends still had their mothers, and he remembered how much it had hurt sometimes, to see them with their moms, knowing he didn’t have one anymore. He remembered…

***

“Daddy?” he’d asked, when his father had come to pick him up. He’d been staying with Uncle Koji and Aunt Ibara, playing with Akaya. It was earlier than expected, his dad should have still been at U.A. for the day. His dad’s eyes were red and puffy, like he’d been crying.

“Daddy, are you okay?” he’d asked. And where was his mom? Usually, they picked him up together.

His dad had bent down next to him, pulling him into a tight hug against his broad chest.

“Kenta…” he’d said, trailing off. “Kenta…”

His dad had taken a deep breath, and tried again. “Kenta… I’m… I’m so sorry. Your mommy’s not coming home.”

That hadn’t made much sense to him. “Is she working late? Does she gotta stop the bad guys?”

His father’s face had fallen, tears welling up in his eyes. “Kenta… Your mommy’s not coming home ever again. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

He hadn’t understood then, but he’d known how brave his dad was. To have seen him cry like that could only mean something was very wrong. He’d understand all too soon.

The days that followed had been full of people in their home. Uncle Koji, Aunt Mina and Uncle Sero, Aunt Habuko, former teachers from U.A. and Isamu Academy, family, and friends. They had all said how sorry they were. His friends had all said how sorry they were. But they had all been there with their moms and his was gone and never coming back. Really, the only one who had understood was Katsumi Kirishima-Bakugo, whose father still lay in a hospital bed, fighting for every breath and clinging to life. They had drifted apart over the years, but in that moment, the two of them had been there for each other.

Oh, the adults had all said, what a hero she had been. The TV had all talked about what a hero she had been, how they were proud of the Hero who had laid down her life for them.

But nothing changed the fact that he was five years old and he was never going to see his mom again.

***

Kenta put his own hand on the grave.

“Mom… I know you’re watching over me. Thank you. Don’t know how I’d have done any of this without you. I hope I can make you proud. I just…

“I wish I’d gotten to know you more. I wish we’d had more time. I wanted you to see who I’ve become. I really hope you’re still watching out for me. I’m gonna need all the help I can get if I’m gonna be a hero like you.

“But, ah, I am getting to be pretty famous. On the internet, anyway. Takuka says we can make it pretty big…”

He wiped the tears from his eyes. “I just… I just wish… I wish you’d been here. There’s so much I wish we’d gotten to do together, so much I wish I’d gotten to show you.

“I… I miss you. So much. And I wish…

“I wish I could remember you better. And I’m worried I’m starting to forget you. Not… forget you, forget you. You’re my mom. I’ll always remember you. But I don’t know if I can remember your voice. Sometimes, in my memories, in my dreams, I can’t see your face… I don’t want to forget…”

He felt a strong arm wrap itself around him, his father pulling him close. No more words were needed as they stood there, letting their thoughts wander. Their loss still pulled at them. It always would. But they were strong for each other. And they always would be. That was what family meant.

***

As they ate their dinner (which he had helped prepare), Kenta did have to admit, there was something to be said for eating actual food instead of whatever happened to be within arms’ reach. Still… there was something nagging at the back of his mind.

“Dad,” he began, “why aren’t you talking to Aunt Mina?”

His dad frowned, swallowing the bite of food in his mouth. “What’re you talking about, Kenta?”

“You left your phone this morning,” Kenta said. “I saw the texts. I saw Uncle Hanta apologizing for her too. What’s going on?”

His dad looked distinctly uncomfortable. “It’s nothing. Just an argument between adults.”

Kenta definitely didn’t believe that. His dad was too soft-hearted to every fight with anyone for long. And Takuma’s mom got along with pretty much everyone, whether they wanted to or not.

“Dad, I’m not a kid. I’m fifteen. If something’s going on, you can tell me.”

His dad frowned again. “…your Aunt Mina thinks I should start dating. She’s been trying to fix me up for months.”

Kenta was glad he wasn’t drinking, because he probably would have done a spit take. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to worry,” his dad said quickly. “I’ve been telling her no. No one’s ever going to replace Chizu.”

Kenta looked down at his plate. In all honesty, this was a conversation he’d thought about having with his dad before. But he’d never been sure how to bring it up. He knew his dad was happy, but also that he had to be lonely. “I think you should let her.”

“…What?”

Kenta took a breath, to steady his nerves and thoughts. “I know you love Mom. And I know you miss her. I do too. And I know you’ve been living your life for me. And that’s great, it really is. I couldn’t have asked for a better dad than you.

“But I’m part way out of the house now, on my way to becoming a Pro-Hero. And you deserve a chance to have a life too. If you want to start dating, if you find someone who makes you happy, I’m not going to think you’re replacing Mom. You get to be happy too, Dad.”

“Kenta, I… I can’t. It’s been too long. Your mom…”

He shook his head. “I don’t remember much, but from everything you ever told me… Mom would want you to be happy, Dad. I want you to be happy. And it sounds like that’s all Aunt Mina wants.”

His dad wiped away a tear. “When did you get so smart? I’m lucky to have you.”

“I’m pretty lucky too, Dad.”

A long moment passed, in peaceful silence. Finally, Kenta spoke again. “You know, you didn’t seem to think I was so smart on Thursday. What were your exact words? “Wasting your Quirk on nonsense.’”

“I stand by those words,” he said. “But I’m also not going to stand in the way of your dreams. Just… find somewhere to do it other than my cafeteria, okay?”

Kenta laughed at that. “Yeah, okay, I’ll tell Takuma we need to find another place for our show.”

“I swear, that boy has gotten you in so much trouble…”

“Daaaad…”

And somehow, as it did, life went on.

#my hero academia #their hero academia #my writing #fan fic #fan fiction

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leio13 · 7 years

Text

That Bandage Freak is Actually...

A Soukoku Fic

Summary: Chuuya, a young librarian, is searching for love, but he couldn’t possibly find it in that bandage-wasting disaster who’s tearing up his library. Could he?

My contribution for Soukoku Week Day 1 (sartorialism)

Relationship: Soukoku (Dazai/Chuuya)

Betaread by the amazing Whisp ( @waveswordswhispers) and Mina ( @fraink5-writes)!

Read it on Ao3 here!

After a particularly annoying bout of traffic, Chuuya strolled into the library five minutes after opening time, ready to work. The first thing he noticed is a strange man switching books on one of the shelves… improperly. The guy was fucking up the library’s orderly system. “Uh… boss?” Chuuya approached the counter where his boss, a young woman wearing an extravagant kimono, worked. “That guy over there is messing up the library.”

Kouyou glanced over Chuuya’s shoulder at the bandage-wrapped stranger. “Oh.” She frowned slightly. “That’s our new part-time employee, Dazai. He doesn’t have much experience, does he?” she sighed as if she didn’t want him there, even though she was the one who had hired him. The characters one hired when in desperate need of workers could be nightmares, angels, or anywhere in between. This one, dressed like a mummy, was most definitely going to be a nightmare. “Why don’t you lend him a hand, Chuuya?”

“Yes, boss,” Chuuya agreed. In his head, he sighed reluctantly. He wasn’t ready for whatever hell experience the new guy had waiting for him. Still, he trudged over to the sloppy brunette, trying to keep the frown off his face. “Let me help you out a bit. You’re new, right?”

Dazai, as Kouyou called him, laughed quietly, a hint of blush lit up his face–well, the part of his face that wasn’t smothered in bandages. The bandages engulfed a large part of his face, covering his left eye entirely. Kouyou must have been really desperate when he hired this freak. “This is my first day…”

“First job too?” Chuuya joked internally. As the (clearly) better person, he couldn’t say that out loud. “Do you know how books are organized in a library, Dazai?”

Dazai blinked upon hearing his name before glancing at Kouyou who wore one of the fakest smiles Chuuya had seen in his entire career as a librarian. “Nope!”

“Alright. Let me explain.”

And so, Chuuya ended up explaining the entire library system while Dazai simply nodded. Chuuya couldn’t help but wonder if Dazai actually understood all of it. “Well, I’ve got my own work to take care of. Let me know if you need anymore help.”

“Okay! Will do, uh…”

“Chuuya.”

“Chuuya-kun!”

“Just Chuuya is fine.” Chuuya was done with this bandaged freak already.

…

Surprisingly, Dazai did not pester Chuuya that day (or any other day) with additional questions. Even more surprisingly, it seemed as if he understood Chuuya’s lecture quite clearly. The organization of the shelves he worked on was almost impressive. Not a single book out of line. When Chuuya didn’t have to see those ridiculous bandages, he could almost regard Dazai as a valuable member of the library’s workforce.

In fact, the current hour, his lunch break, was one of those times. Chuuya settled down into his usual booth at the local cafe and pulled his laptop out from his bag. He bit into his sandwich once before the moment was ruined.

“Eating alone, Chuuya?” Dazai was peering over his shoulder at the empty seat on the other side of the table. “Mind if I join you?”

“I’m alright.” After the words left his mouth, Chuuya realized they came off rudely. “I’m not lonely if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“That’s good,” Dazai frowned slightly, “but I’m a bit lonely myself, so if not for you, may we sit together for me?”

Chuuya wanted to say no, but he couldn’t unless he wanted to be an asshole. He didn’t really want to appear that way. Besides, it was his policy not to judge people by appearances (even if he had betrayed that policy multiple times over the past week since Dazai joined). Dazai was a bit sketchy appearance-wise, but Chuuya decided to live by his beliefs this time. “Go ahead. I might not be great company though.”

“Ah, thank you!” Instead of sitting down across from Chuuya though, Dazai continued looking over his shoulder. “A dating website? Are you looking for a date?”

“Yeah.” Chuuya glared at the the redhead on the screen. He didn’t actually have an issue with “Tachihara,” but he needed to release his anger somewhere.

“Hmm… No offense, but he’s not really that attractive…”

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Chuuya hissed in his head.

“I’m not a huge fan of the bandage on the nose.” Dazai finally sat down when Chuuya slammed his laptop closed. “It’s tasteless in my opinion.”

“In what way?” Chuuya was almost eager to hear what Dazai had to say back. The idiot was covered from head to toe in bandages, yet he had the audacity to criticize one small bandage on the nose. What kind of excuse would he offer?

“It looks like he got into a fight and lost. Pretty pathetic, don’t you think?”

Chuuya almost choked on a laugh. Was this guy for real? “If he looks like he lost a fight, you look like you lost to an elephant.” He noticed a small frown surface on Dazai’s face briefly, and while Chuuya didn’t care too much, he had to be nice. “Besides, I try not to judge people by their appearances.”

“That’s admirable!” Dazai smiled, sipping his drink slowly. He didn’t say anything after that.

…

“Um… Chuuya?” Dazai peeked out from behind the bookshelf Chuuya was organizing.

“Yeah?” Chuuya really didn’t want to talk to Dazai, but he wasn’t going shoo him away.

Dazai finally fully appeared from behind the shelf. “I’m really sorry for butting in the other day.” He bowed slightly.

Chuuya was frankly surprised. “No, uh, it’s alright. Don’t worry about it.” Now that the issue was resolved, he and Dazai could return to their usual awkward relationship, which in fact wasn’t very different at all–the only real difference being that Chuuya was no longer angry. Anyway, Dazai could leave Chuuya alone now that the conflict had ended.

Chuuya reached up to pull a book from the top shelf but couldn’t grab it, a sad reminder that he had stopped growing about 7 years ago at the age of 15. Thankfully, having a year of experience, Chuuya had a technique up his sleeve. He glanced towards Kouyou’s desk. She was on the phone with a customer and looking in the opposite direction just as Chuuya had hoped. Keeping his eyes on the boss, he lifted his leg and stepped onto the lowest shelf. Then, he grabbed a higher shelf with his two hands and began to simultaneously pull and push himself up. He was so close now. So clos–

The book was gone? It was just there a minute ago. Did someone take it while he was watching Kouyou? Chuuya turned his head around stiffly, the faintest idea of who it could be creeping unwantedly into his thoughts.

“Here!” Sure enough, Dazai was standing behind him offering him the very book he had been trying to get. “It looked like you needed help, so I took it down for you!” He smiled innocently.

Chuuya jumped off the bookshelf and snatched the book from Dazai’s hand. “I did not need help!”

“You didn’t?” Dazai blinked. “But you were climbing the bookshelf…”

“That’s how I reach high books.” Chuuya grumbled. His secret technique sounded pretty stupid when Dazai phrased it like that.

“Why don’t you just ask someone taller?”

“I can get them myself. That’s why.” Chuuya knew Dazai wasn’t trying to belittle him with that suggestion, but he hated being reminder that he was short. It was a sensitive topic for him. He wasn’t tall or slim like models and Dazai were; he was short and muscular. The muscles were nice–he liked those–but being short just made him the butt of the same unfunny jokes over and over again.

“But you could also get hurt.”

“I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this before. I won’t fall, okay?” Chuuya, hoping to end the painful conversation in which he was stuck, started moving towards the desk.

“If you insist…” Dazai sighed, following Chuuya. “But I’d prefer if you just asked me instead.”

“We’ll see…” Chuuya relented. They wouldn’t see. He didn’t need Dazai’s help. “Oh, and thanks, I guess…” Even if he felt unnecessarily belittled, Dazai did help him which was pretty nice. Dazai wasn’t such a terrible guy after all.

“My pleasure!”

…

Chuuya couldn’t help but notice that Dazai was sitting by himself in a small booth tucked in the corner of Chuuya’s favorite cafe. He tried to ignore it–he really did–but he couldn’t. He stood up with a sigh and approached the lonely brunette. “Eating alone, Dazai?”

“Eh?” Dazai looked up from his untouched plate of food. “I guess so.” He scratched the back of his neck, letting out a weak laugh.

“You can join me if you’d like.” Chuuya hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

“Are you sure?” The smile on Dazai’s face betrayed the hesitation in his voice.

“Yeah, you don’t need to sit alone.” Chuuya returned to his favorite spot, and Dazai skipped behind him. It wasn’t going to just be his spot anymore. It would now belong to him and Dazai, a weird thought.

“You know, Chuuya, I realized that I don’t know a lot about you. You’ve always seemed a bit distant with me. Frankly, I’m surprised you invited me to join you. Of course, I’m extremely grateful for that!” He bowed his head in apology. “Please don’t shoo me away.”

Chuuya though would have much rathered that he himself disappeared. Dazai had noticed the way Chuuya had initially been avoiding him which made Chuuya feel ashamed of himself. He considered apologizing, but he honestly just didn’t want to talk about it. “Well, there isn’t much to know really. What did you want to know?”

“Anything!” Dazai grinned eagerly.

“Alright…” Chuuya told Dazai about how he grew up in an orphanage although he spent most of his childhood in the local library. He continued with his two college majors in French and literature and how he liked to translate French texts into Japanese during his free time, and that might have led to a mainly one-sided conversation about classic French authors. “What about you, Dazai?” he asked eventually though only five minutes of their lunch break remained.

“I haven’t done anything nearly as impressive,” Dazai sighed, “I didn’t even go to college.”

“Really?” Chuuya had to remind himself of his initial impressions of Dazai in order to fully accept those words. “What about employment? You had to have another job before this one, right?”

“I did. Well, I still do, actually.” Dazai checked his watch. “We can save that for another day. We need to return to the library now.”

“Oh. Okay.” Chuuya frowned slightly. He really wanted to know what it was. Who was Dazai outside the library?

…

The next time Chuuya needed to grab a book off the top shelf, Dazai wasn’t even there. According to Kouyou, he had some business to take care of in the morning. Either way, he wouldn’t be there to get the book for Chuuya. Oh well, Chuuya still had his handy dandy trick.

He placed his shoe on the lowest shelf, grabbed the sides of the bookshelf, and using his boot to push up, he pulled himself onto the first shelf completely. He reached for the book, but it was still too far away. Kids were giggling somewhere nearby, and even though he didn’t want to be seen doing this, he refused to stop. He had already started climbing. They couldn’t possibly judge him anymore. He pulled himself onto the second shelf. Letting go of one of the sides, he stretched his arm to touch the book. He could feel it’s rough casing, but he wasn’t high enough to get a good grasp.

The door behind him rang out a small bell noise as it usually did when someone entered or exited the library. Chuuya prayed that it wasn’t Kouyou returning from her lunch break. He didn’t want to know what sort of face she would make although he had a good idea in his imagination.

Something crashed into the back of the bookshelf, and a girl shouted out “No rough housing, Yumeno!”

But it was too late for that. Chuuya was already falling. “Shi–”

But he didn’t hit the floor, landing softly instead against someone’s chest. Two bandaged arms were wrapped around his waist. “Are you alright?”

“Dazai?” Chuuya peered up to see the brunette staring down at him. “I-I’m fine.”

“This is why I said you should ask me…” Dazai sighed, lowering Chuuya’s feet to the floor.

“You weren’t here when I checked!” Chuuya’s face burned. He had fallen from the bookshelf, and Dazai saw it and caught him. In his arms. Chuuya wasn’t sure whether the fall or the catch lit up his cheeks more.

“Sorry, I had something to do. Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay, Chuuya. You scared me for a second.”

“You were sca…?” Chuuya shook his head. “Sorry. I’ll try not to scale anymore bookshelves in the future…”

“Try not to what?” A woman’s voice replied. Kouyou was standing right next to them.

“Nothing.” Chuuya quickly answered. Hopefully, she’d drop it at that.

…

“Not to bother you, Chuuya, but” Dazai suddenly spoke up, “I need to put some books on the shelf you’re sitting in front.”

Chuuya jolted up and turned to face the brunette, closing the magazine he had been reading. He used his thumb as a bookmark for the page he was on. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright! Everyone gets distracted occasionally!” Dazai laughed, probably trying to reassure himself that it was alright. Chuuya had found Dazai with his nose in a book several times since he had joined about a month ago. “What are you reading anyway?”

“Just some article about that model, Shuuji.” Chuuya flipped open to the pages his thumb was marking. One of the pages was simply a picture of Shuuji. He wasn’t smiling–he never typically was. That was supposedly attractive. It didn’t really bewitch Chuuya personally, but he understood the appeal. In fact, minus the never-smiling thing, Shuuji was undoubtedly attractive: thin and tall with soft brown hair and caramel eyes that Chuuya imagined would have been warm if Shuuji actually smiled in the camera. Unfortunately, he didn’t, and his eyes simply looked dead.

“Hmm…” Dazai leaned closer for a better look. “He’s not really my type.”

“What is your type exactly?” Chuuya couldn’t even guess.

“I think I prefer curly red hair. Blues eyes and a proud yet kind personality are nice too.”

That was Chuuya. Dazai had just described Chuuya. Chuuya’s face hit record-breaking temperatures. He was blushing furiously. “I… I don’t know what to say… I wasn’t expecting that… at all… holy shit.”

Dazai laughed softly, pink highlighting his cheeks. “Sorry, that was really sudden on my part. You can just forget about it.”

“I…” How was Chuuya supposed to respond? Did he view Dazai that same way?

“Oh yeah,” Dazai interrupted Chuuya’s thoughts. “What happened with Mr. Bandaid Nose?”

“Oh. Michizou, you mean?” Chuuya wasn’t going to object to a new subject until right then when he started speaking. Suddenly, he dreaded the topic significantly. “Well, actually, uh, Michizou and I, uh, we hit it off pretty well, so we’re going to, uh, meet up this weekend.” Of all topics, why did Dazai switch to this one?

“You got a date!” Dazai clapped his hands together. “Congrats!” His eyes looked hollow.

“Yeah, the only problem is that I don’t know what to wear… he invited me to a fancy restaurant, but I don’t have any appropriate suits to wear…” Chuuya probably should have kept that to himself. The sooner they stopped discussing Michizou, the better.

“Well, that’s no good.” Dazai grinned. “I can help if you want.”

“You’d be willing to do that after all this…?”

“Sure! Let’s meet Saturday afternoon at the cafe!”

“Thank you, Dazai. Seriously, thanks.”

“Anytime, Chuuya!”

…

Dazai was already standing outside the cafe when Chuuya arrived even though Chuuya was five minutes early. He waved and without a word gestured for Chuuya to enter the open door.

“Look, Dazai,” Chuuya blurted out as they sat down. “You really don’t have to do this is you don’t want to. I won’t be ups–”

“But I want to!” Dazai interrupted. “You’re an important friend of mine after all!”

“Okay. What’s the plan for today? My date is at 8:30. It’s 12:25 now.” Chuuya watched as a server brought two cups of coffee to the table without being asked, Chuuya’s and Dazai’s favorites respectively.

“I think I know the perfect place for a suit.” Dazai grinned, blowing at the steam from his coffee.

“That’s good. Hopefully, it’s not too expensive…” Chuuya glanced down at his wallet mournfully. He loved the library, but it didn’t pay that well. He couldn’t spend too much money on this suit without it cutting into his living expenses. “Oh yeah. I also want to get something to eat a few hours before the date if you’d like to come. I don’t think my stomach can hold over until 8:30 on it’s own.”

“Sure, I’d love to!” Dazai finally took a sip out of his coffee. “So tell me about Bandai–Michizou.”

“Stop calling him that! I can’t take it seriously!” Chuuya laughed. “He’s nice. We have a lot of interests in common too.”

“That’s great.” Then, after taking another sip, Dazai stood up and pushed his chair in. “Shall we go?”

“Sure!” Chuuya followed after him, taking his coffee to go. They strolled down the streets of Yokohama before stopping at a relatively large shop by the name of Villon. Of course, Chuuya recognized the name instantly. Shuuji was one of the models for the brand. “Uh, Dazai? I would love a suit from Villon, but they are expensive as fuck.”

“You don’t want to take a look?” Dazai frowned.

“I guess a peek couldn’t hurt.” Chuuya knew it was a bad idea, but even so, he followed Dazai through the glass doors. There were endless rows of suits. If Chuuya seriously inspected each one, he’d lose a significant amount of his designated shopping time. He’d just have to skim through them, yet he found himself examining each one, admiring their designs and fabric. Eventually, he stumbled upon one he couldn’t resist.

Dazai caught him staring. “Why don’t you try it on?”

Chuuya probably should have said no, but his heart pulled him to the dressing rooms instead. He eagerly (but carefully) threw it on. Then, he inhaled and turned to face the mirror.

Chuuya almost gasped. It was perfect, especially the way the maroon of the dress shirt complimented his orange hair, the way it fit him snugly without pinching. Chuuya loved the way it looked. He strutted out of the stall to show Dazai. “How do I look?”

Dazai actually did gasp. “You look… breathtaking…” He pulled out his phone. “You look wonderful, Chuuya. Let’s take a picture, so we don’t forget!”

Chuuya posed, Dazai clicked the camera, and then, the suit had to come off. Even worse was what followed: checking the price tag. The cost made Chuuya’s singing heart drop. It was too much, way too much. “I can’t buy this, Dazai…”

Dazai took the suit from Chuuya’s hands and without inspecting the price tag walked over to the cashier. He beckoned Chuuya over. Chuuya reluctantly slumped over.

“That will be 65,000 yen.” The woman behind the counter smiled at Chuuya, waiting for an answer.

Chuuya’s jaw dropped. That was not price on the tag, not even close to it. “…excuse me?”

“Chuuya,” Dazai smiled, “I got you a discount.”

“H-How?”

“Frequent buyers get discounts.”

Dazai was a frequent buyer at Villon? Dazai had enough money to shop frequently at Villon? Chuuya’s jaw dropped further. He never would have guessed by Dazai’s appearance. And such an extreme discount too! Chuuya could actually buy the suit now! The suit was his! He took the suit back into his arms and squeezed it to his chest. He almost wanted to squeal. He almost wanted to hug Dazai. Did he deserve all this? Probably not, but he wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. He quickly handed the cashier a bundle of cash, not even waiting for his change before skipping out the door.

Dazai appeared next to him moments later with Chuuya’s change in hand. “Weren’t you complaining about not having enough money the other day?”

Chuuya ignored Dazai’s remark. He was too absorbed in his own happiness.

“Anyway, it’s about 5:30 now. You should eat something light now if you want to eat.”

“Good idea! I’ll pay for the meal.” Chuuya promised. One meal wouldn’t pay back the amount he owed Dazai for all of this, but it was a start. “Thank you so much, Dazai! I really can’t thank you enough!”

“Don’t worry about it! It was my pleasure!” Dazai blushed. “Let’s go eat now, yeah?”

“Yep!” Chuuya bounded down the street to the little deli he had in mind, Dazai chasing after him.

“I’ve never seen you with so much energy before…” Dazai panted at the doorway.

“Well, I don’t really act like this unless I’m really happy, and I’m really happy right now!!” Chuuya squealed.

“Michizou better make you squeal like this.” Dazai smirked before disappearing to order two sandwiches.

“I hope so…” Chuuya slumped in his chair, the exhaustion from this excursion finally hitting him.

“I hope you like this kind.” Dazai placed a sandwich in front of Chuuya.

“It’s my favorite. How did you know?” Chuuya joked. “Definitely not because I eat it every day.”

Dazai laughed. “Nope, definitely not.”

Chuuya wondered when eating with Dazai became normal. He had learned a lot of things about Dazai: the dumb songs he liked to sing, his life growing up as an orphan, the way he fumbled with his bandages when nervous and how that way was different from when he was embarrassed. It was almost hard to believe that a bit more than a month ago Chuuya had been intentionally avoiding him.

There were also things about Dazai that he didn’t know like his other job, but Chuuya didn’t feel rushed to find them out anymore. They had time. Somehow Chuuya just knew this bond would last for a long time. Until that time had passed, Chuuya could take it easy and relax, slowly learning about Dazai in the process.

They ate as if it was any other meal together: a few jokes, a few petty arguments, a few bits of small talk; no one brought up Michizou. In fact, he was completely out of Chuuya’s mind.

Dazai glanced out the window. “Uh oh.”

Chuuya followed Dazai’s gaze. It was pouring outside. “I didn’t bring an umbrella because I didn’t think it would start raining.”

“Me neither.” Dazai sighed. “It should be fine though if we hurry, and hopefully, it’ll have stopped by tonight.”

Chuuya had forgotten about that night. It had began to feel like any other day, but then Chuuya remember that he had a date later. “I hope so. Let’s go back to our apartments before it gets worse first.” With that, Chuuya and Dazai hurried outside into the soaking rain.

“Chuuya~!” Dazai ran up next to Chuuya who had power walked ahead. “Don’t step in a puddle~!” He sang out while nudging Chuuya with his shoulder towards the nearest one.

Chuuya tripped, narrowly avoiding the death of his shoes. “What the fuck, Dazai?” Chuuya turned to face the brunette only to notice the bastard had already scurried away. He chased after him, slamming his shoulder into Dazai’s side. “You shouldn’t step into a puddle either~!”

Dazai stumbled to the side a few feet, his shoes splashing in a large puddle that went up to his ankles.

Chuuya laughed victoriously. Then, it thundered, and Chuuya’s pleasure vanished. “Shit.” He yanked Dazai out of the puzzle and down the street. Finally, they arrived at his small apartment building into which he hastily ushered Dazai. “You can dry off at my place.”

Dazai hesitantly followed Chuuya to his apartment, noting the dirty sprinkled on the floor and walls of the complex. It wasn’t the nicest place to live, and Chuuya wondered what Dazai, who was apparently rich, thought of it and consequently thought of Chuuya. The combination of autumn night temperatures and wet clothes made it cold too. “I’ll turn on the heater when we get inside.” He unlocked the door to his apartment. “You must be shivering.”

Dazai looked around the small apartment, making Chuuya embarrassed. It was clear that Chuuya lived there the second one entered. The area was clean, French literature lined the walls, and soft French jazz was playing quietly on an antique cassette player. Chuuya waddled in drenched clothes over to the heater and turned it on. Dazai remained standing awkwardly at the entrance.

“You can sit down if you want.” Chuuya sat down on one end of the couch and gestured for Dazai to join him.

Dazai reluctantly joined Chuuya on the couch. “I’d hate to soak your furniture…”

“It’s fine. I’m soaking everything already.” Chuuya suddenly grimaced and yanked his clinging jacket off, throwing it onto the broken chair besides the heater. “Aren’t you’re clothes disgusting like that?”

“A bit, yeah.” Dazai slowly removed his own vest which Chuuya quickly snatched from his hands to add to the wet pile next to the heater.

“Thank you for today, Dazai.” Without thinking, Chuuya leaned forward and kissed Dazai on the lips.

“Chuuya…?”

“Mm?” Chuuya responded, eyes still closed, faces inches apart.

“Did you just…?”

“Oh shit.” Chuuya froze. “Oh shit. Fuck.” He just kissed Dazai. Dazai of all people. And he enjoyed it. Way more than he should have. “Did you, uh, enjoy it?”

Dazai blushed. “Yeah, but…”

“Okay. Good.” Chuuya decided to fuck it all. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from Dazai’s eyes, cupping his face with one hand in the process.

“Chuuya…?” Dazai took Chuuya’s hand, but he was unsure if he should pull it away.

“Hopefully, you’ll enjoy this one too.” Before Dazai could respond, Chuuya moved in for a second kiss, letting their lips linger together this time. Dazai tasted of crab and chocolate, just like Chuuya imagined he would.

They pulled apart, and Dazai gasped for air. “Chuuya…” He whispered.

“Yes?” Chuuya gently pushed Dazai down against the couch, snatching a third kiss.

“Do you love me, Chuuya?”

“I think so… yes.”

With that, Dazai grabbed Chuuya’s tie and pulled him closer. “I’m glad.” He pushed himself up slightly, taking the opportunity to steal a kiss of his own. They stayed like that for awhile with their lips locked together.

Meanwhile, Chuuya’s hands moved on their own, searching Dazai’s chest and undoing buttons. Dazai’s hands tugged at Chuuya’s tie and ripped it away.

Then, Dazai stopped. “Hey, Chuuya?”

“Yeah, Dazai?” Chuuya paused for a minute, his busy fingers halting.

“Is this going where I think it’s going?”

“Yeah, pretty sure.”

“In that case,” Dazai sat up, “I’m going to remove these bandages.”

“Okay.” Chuuya moved out of Dazai’s way and watched the brunette stalk into the bathroom.

Moments later, he returned shyly, bandages and everything gone. Without the bandages, Dazai almost looked like a separate individual. He looked slimmer yet healthier. His soft, wet, brown locks clung to his face almost photogenically. Seeing both eyes, Chuuya noticed a slight glimmer in Dazai’s pupils. As he was now, Dazai almost looked like…

Chuuya’s jaw dropped for a third time that day.

“…Something wrong?” Dazai asked self-consciously.

“Dazai… you’re…”

“I’m…?”

“You’re Shuuji… you’re a model?!”

#My writing #Soukokuweek #Nakahara Chuuya #Dazai Osamu #Bungou Stray Dogs #Chuuya #Dazai #this started as crack #but then I took it seriously #clothing is involved I swear!#I'm not lying!

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