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breadbrobin · 5 months

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the trees

clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of apollo reader]

summary: you have a very specific skill set that helps your team with capture the flag, and clarisse thinks it’s fascinating. in fact, she thinks you’re as fascinating as you think she is.

warnings: swearing, arguments, fighting, PINING, heights i guess (reader is up a tree), possibly ooc clarisse but not too much i hope.

word count: 2.5k

(so the brainrot has (inevitably) spread to clarisse. there’s gonna be a part two to this as well, so lmk if y’all want it (tbh i’ll probably post it anyway but still). oh and also i love her and i am a clarisse apologist and lover until the day i die)

(sort-of-enemies to sort-of-lovers, but more like idiots to pining idiots (in a tree))

(part 2 here)

———————————————

archery wasn’t the only thing you were good at, but it was by far the best thing you were good at. a daughter of apollo: master of archery, mediocre of music and magical at making weird ass noises. bird calls, animal sounds, imitations—you name it, you could do it.

and those were useful tactics in capture the flag, for sure.

annabeth chase was a master strategist, and you had to give it to her: she remembered everyone’s strengths, weaknesses and alliances while you couldn’t even remember what you’d had for breakfast that day.

as always, you were tucked up in a tree, around halfway up. you weren’t too high, so that you could speak and people wouldn’t automatically know you were above them, but you weren’t too low so they couldn’t see you.

you kind of liked being in the trees now. after three years of capture the flag and around six months of freaking out every time you climbed above ten feet, you were finally used to it. it was almost calming; a way for you to relax after a stressful day and pretend that nothing around you existed.

until the red team came by, that is.

that’s what you were waiting for. the flag was around fifty feet to your right. your job was to be a lookout and a distraction.

it was your favourite part of the game, getting to trick people and shoot arrows at them when they came too close, allowing the blue team members around the bottom of your tree to pop out and disarm their opponents.

it wasn’t a trick you used every time—not even the ares cabin are that stupid—but when you did use it, you had the time of your life.

there was a snapping branch to your left. you straightened up from where you were leaning against the tree trunk behind you and peered through the leaves. you were perched on a thick bough, hidden by leaves and branches, but able to see enough through them that you could do your job.

you could hear voices, but you couldn’t see anyone.

you listened carefully. you knew that voice.

you realised with a start who it was.

clarisse la rue.

fucking clarisse, man. she drove you insane. and not for the reason she drove most of camp insane. no, unlike almost everyone else, you were attracted to her. in fact, you were, annoyingly, in love with her, you’d have to admit. it was infuriating.

you could hear her cutting through the forest. it was strange. she didn’t usually come for the flag. usually, she hunted in the woods and caught stragglers. she didn’t want the glory as much as she wanted the fight. to her, winning the battle seemed more important than winning the war.

regardless of why, you could hear her voice. she was talking to her siblings below you, creeping through the foliage.

the sun was warm on your face and you send up a brief prayer to your father.

from your lips slipped an almost perfect impression of your blue team guards. you’d used this trick last game, but clarisse hadn’t been there, so she wouldn’t know. “i can’t believe they put us on guard duty again.”

they all froze in their tracks, looking at each other, then ahead in the opposite direction from the flag.

you held in a snicker. “ugh, yeah, it’s the worst. i mean, why can’t we do anything fun? i wanna fight clarisse!”

you could see the smirk curling on her lips and you had to stop yourself from blushing.

you continued this cat and mouse game. the ares kids below you fanned out, aiming to surround you. it would have been a smart move, if there was actually a flag there and not just a tree.

slowly, they inched in, then leapt out.

“ahh!! you caught us! i’ve been impaled!”

they looked around in fear and confusion but clarisse looked straight up. she always did.

“hey, angel, nice voice,” she mocked. “wanna come on down?”

you shook your head. “no, thanks, i’m comfortable.”

she raised and eyebrow, seeing your arrow drawn and pointed directly at her. “that’s not necessary.”

“isn’t it?” your arrow flew and, though she hit it away, you teammates came pouring out of the foliage, having been waiting for your signal.

a fight ensued. it looked like it was going well for a short while, then the tides turned.

they weren’t as caught off guard as they usually were. hell, clarisse was even smiling!

with what looked like very little effort, the ares campers effectively destroyed your teammates. they were left disarmed and defeated, and you were stuck in a tree. typical.

as her siblings took their weapons, clarisse looked up at you. “you wanna come down now?”

you shook your head. “rather not. the view from up here is pretty good.”

she muttered something to herself, but you couldn’t hear her. then she spoke up. “what if we come up there?”

you drew your bow back immediately and an arrow pierced the dirt right in front of her foot.

she looked down at it, then back up at you, an amused smirk on her face. “right, silly me.”

that surprised you. she was usually cold and cruel in capture the flag, always taking no prisoners and leaving no survivors—in a technical sense. you’d seen people nursing their minor wounds after the games when your siblings forced you to help out in the infirmary (not that you’re much help in there, but regardless), and everyone heard the stories they’d tell of clarisse appearing out of the ferns and attacking ruthlessly. so why was she not being so ruthless today?

she was certainly cruel in her fight against your team members, but any other day, she would have thrown her spear at you or thrown one of your arrows back, or even climbed up anyway. instead, she just smirked up at you, content to wait.

“where’s the flag, bows?” she asked, using a nickname she’d only used a few times, one that referenced both the bows you used and the bows you sometimes put in your hair.

you shrugged. “dunno. they don’t tell me anything. i just get out here and told to be annoying.” your traitorous eyes flickered to the direction of the flag. you’d never been good at lying.

and curse her, clarisse noticed. she always noticed when it came to you, it seemed. whether it was catching you in a lie, catching you when you were admiring her or catching your every move when sparring, she always noticed.

she nodded at her siblings and they moved off. “i’ll wait here. try and flush our squirrel out.”

if they were confused or surprised, they didn’t show it.

once they were gone, clarisse plucked the arrow from the dirt and studied it. “this is new.”

“sam from hephaestus made them,” you said meekly. why would she stay behind? it didn’t make sense. you weren’t a threat, or even a good fight.

her face darkened. “oh. and where is your boyfriend now, then? hm?”

your cheeks flamed. “he’s not my boyfriend.” and it was true. he wasn’t. despite the fact that he liked you and made things for you all the time, your heart was decidedly with another. and she was right below you, tossing your prized arrow aside like an old tissue. “he’s on your team anyway. you should know where he is.”

she smirked again. “oh, yeah. i remember now. that’s right, i sent him to try and get our flag. he didn’t even make it five steps before he was attacked.”

her bitter laugh made your heart clench. was it pity for sam or your feelings for her, or both? you weren’t sure. either way, it was starting to get on your nerves.

it was silent for a long time. she looked up at you every few seconds, then at the tree, like she was gauging how hard she’d have to push you for you to die on impact. her eyes were sharp and her smile was sharper, and fuck you were attracted to her.

you cleared your throat and broke the silence, hearing fighting off in the near distance. you would go and help, but the only way for you to do so would be to tree-hop all the way to the flag, and while you could do it, it wasn’t the best idea. “why did you stay h—what are you doing?” you aimed an arrow at her.

“relax, angel, we both know you won’t actually shoot me.” she was climbing up the tree. fast. “and don’t worry, i’m not gonna push you out or attack you. i don’t like looking up at you.”

call you stupid or whipped or whatever, but you believed her. you lowered your bow but didn’t lessen the tension on your string. she’d almost reached your branch when you swivelled around to face her. you moved fast, your arrow returning to its holster and you body facing the trunk of the tree with your legs swung over each side of the wide bough. your dagger was swiftly removed from its holster and pressed under clarisse’s chin.

she laughed at you.

you faltered slightly. “what?”

“nothing,” she snickered. “i just saw it coming. now scoot back.”

you dropped your dagger and shifted backwards, glad the bough was strong.

she clambered onto your branch easily, sitting facing you with her back against the tree trunk, a smirk on her face.

you sighed bitterly. “you see everything coming.”

she shrugged. “pretty much. but so do you.”

“that’s the gift of divine premonition,” you grumbled. it could be useful sometimes, but all you really got was a sense, a feeling or, occasionally, a single frame of a moment. right now, though, your senses were so clogged with her vanilla-strawberry and leather scent, and with her, that you could hardly think, let alone experience a minor prophecy. not to mention the fact that if you did, you’d probably fall out of the tree.

she shrugged. “isn’t that useful?”

“yeah, when it actually works or doesn’t make me pass out.” you shrugged. “it’s temperamental.”

she hummed in thought, leaning back and crossing her arms. her knees were mere centimetres from yours.

“what are you doing up here, clarisse?” you asked.

she shrugged, but you could see a shift in her demeanour when she said your name. it was like the muscles in her shoulders relaxed for a moment, then tensed again. “didn’t want you to escape.”

“so you let your other prisoners escape?” you gestured to the ground, where your teammates were sitting around fifteen feet from the tree in a circle, plucking the grass.

clarisse raised her eyebrows at you in amusement. “oh, i think they’re fine. they’re too scared of me to do anything, anyway.”

you narrowed your eyes at her. “i don’t think you’re that scary.”

she rolled her eyes. “sure. but everyone else does. so you’re wrong.”

“it was my opinion. my opinion can’t be wrong if it’s my opinion.” that was another thing: you were never one to start an argument, but by god would you escalate it.

“your opinions wrong if i say it’s wrong,” she huffed, her jaw tight.

“not how opinions work, babe,” you said lightly, using your dagger point to carve away at the bark beneath you.

she smacked your hand to stop you. “you’re gonna dull it!”

“the point is already dull!” you protested, poking your finger to show her. it indented, but didn’t draw blood. “see?”

“so, what, you threatened me with a butter knife? i’m offended.”

“it’s the idea of it that cuts deeper anyway. the primal fear of being gutted by a dagger. in capture the flag at least.” you shrugged, carving a wonky flower in the bark. “it’s more about threats than action.”

clarisse rolled her eyes. “and what if a monster comes and attacks you, and all you’ve got is this blunt dagger?”

“you ever seen an archers muscles?” you turned slightly and flexed your shoulders. you could see her eyes follow the sharp lines of your shoulders and back. “i’ll use force. force is more effective than sharpness. you know that.”

“and yet, my weapons are all still sharp.” she snatched the dagger from you and pulled out a whetstone from a pocket in her cargo pants. she began sharpening your blade.

“hey, don’t—“

she smacked your hand with the flat of your own blade when you reached for it, and you withdrawn with a hiss, shaking your hand. she laughed. “i guess force is more important, huh, angel?”

your cheeks were hot. “don’t call me that.”

“why, you worried you might like it?” she looked up, teasing. her eyes narrowed at the look on your face and then she grinned. “you do like it.”

“no. shut up.”

she laughed again, but it was a little softer than usual. she looked back down at the dagger. “did sam make this for you?”

“yeah, w—clarisse!” you gasped as she dropped it off the bough. or, more accurately, threw it off the bough. “what was that for?”

she shrugged. “it’s not that good. i’ll get you a better one from the ares stash. don’t worry.”

you glared at her. “that was mine, though!”

“it was blunt and poorly made,” she protested. “it wasn’t good enough for you.”

the way she said it made you think there was a double meaning there.

“he’s not good enough for you,” she said, softer, proving you right.

your eyes were wide and your cheeks were flaming. “what?”

“you heard me.” her softness was staying, it seemed. if you weren’t mistaken, her hand was reaching for yours. “he’s not. you know he’s not. why do you like him?”

before you could respond, a horn blew in the distance and cheering erupted from around the forest. red team had won.

clarisse didn’t look happy. she leaned back—you hadn’t even realised she’d leaned forward—and glared at the bough between you both.

“congratulations,” you said softly. “you deserved the win.”

“yeah, we did.” her voice carried very little enthusiasm.

you studied her face for a minute, like you were committing every feature to memory. “clarisse…”

she didn’t respond. instead, she swung her leg over the bough and started climbing down. only when she got two branches down did you begin to follow her, hurrying in your attempt to catch up. you couldn’t. no matter how good you were at something, she was better.

she nodded at you as she walked off, your foot caught in a tight spot.

once you’d finally got down, your teammates were surrounding you. some asked you what had happened, some accused you of being a double agent for them, some asked if you were okay.

you answered them all absently as you all walked back towards the stream, but your heart wasn’t in it. what the hell was going on?

you’d reached the stream by the time you realised you’d left your dagger behind, and you were back at your cabin, trying to fall asleep, when you realised that it didn’t bother you at all.

(part 2)

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #dior goodjohn #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show

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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 2 months

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Hazbin Hotel characters react to your stims

(I'm doing my personal favorite characters, so if there are others you wanna see, ask me. They may also be slightly OOC.)

Vox

You can't convince me this man doesn't also have ADHD. He's just spent decades masking it, as well as most of himself, to present a perfect image. Probably heard the term as it got more well known but didn't really connect the dots until meeting you.

He fidgets a lot, tapping his claws, bouncing his legs, can't sit in a fucking chair properly.

Doesn't realize he's overstimulated and burnt out from multi tasking dozens of screens until you point it out.

Once he's aware of it you help him manage his work better so he can be less stimulated and tense. You buy him proper fidget toys to mess with and he makes himself some top of the line bass boosted sound canceling headphones. He gives you a pair, too. When you're both alone, you look up songs with loaded bass in 8d just to watch each other twitch and involuntarily move your head with the sound.

That's about the extent of the conscious level of unmasking he'll do though. He gets self conscious.

But, he adores the fact you're comfortable enough to stim around him. Or in public. He can and will violently end people for even giving you dirty looks for stimming in public.

If you show excitement and joy over being around someone through happy noms he will literally get heart eyes. Just be careful where you bite him because it may lead to something else.

He's happy to let you stim, which means tricking him into doing it more.

He remembers and sub consciously absorbs your echolalias or any word replacements you use. If you do a lot of call and response vocals he learns them. (Call and response is basically when you memorize a sound with two people. One calls the other responds. You can just say both parts yourself ((I do)) but it's more satisfying with someone else).

If you do happy flappies this man will short circuit. (He will laugh if you accidentally smack yourself though).

If you squeal and kick you may give him a heart attack. He thought you were hurt or something. He gets used to it eventually but it still startles him.

Vox is also a chatter box so you two can info dump about special interests to each other for hours. Neither one of you expects the other to remember details, but the fact you don't tell each other to shut up and are content to do your own thing while listening to your partner/friend gush is enough.

He has long since forced himself into strict routines so if you struggle to get tasks started or get distracted in the middle of them he's understanding but stern. Tends to cause more harm than good because he talks down to you unintentionally.

If you're a visual/hands on learner he also gets frustrated with you for wasting hours trying to figure it out yourself and getting yourself upset instead of just letting him do it for you. You get into a lot of fights about it at first. He gets better when he sees it genuinely prevents you from enjoying things or trying new things and that you just kinda default to defeated and helpless. He didn't mean to make you feel dumb, he just doesn't understand why you wouldn't want help. Until the tables turn and as he's getting worked up over something he can't figure out and you just stare at him.

He finally snaps at you what the hell you're doing and you smirk "need help? Why don't I just do it for you and you watch? Come on, you've been struggling for an hour, stop being so stubborn and just let me do it. I'll show you later, it's not hard." You feed his own lines back at him and his stomach drops.

"Oh....that feels...mmmm. Nope! Don't like that. Ok. Won't happen again, doll."

Realistically if you work with him and you make mouth noises a lot (bird whistles, tongue clicks, humming, random shrieks) he will get annoyed. It's distracting him and sometimes you don't realize you're doing it and mess up anything he tries to record. The first few times he snaps at you and it causes problems (hello rejection sensitive dysphoria) but eventually he learns how to better talk to you/communicate without accidentally convincing you he hates you.

Alastor

Probably on the spectrum himself, but it also could just be his anti-social habits. Either way he finds you entertaining and your bouts of sporadic energy and gremlin like behavior don't phase him. He's been dealing with Niffty for years.

If you sing or hum a lot to get work done, or listen to music he's all for it. But if you're the type of ADHD where work fast music=horny and bass he'll insist you wear headphones. If you're content to listen to swing (he'll compromise with electroswing) or jazz, he'll play the radio for you.

He doesn’t even care if you're a good singer or not, he just likes seeing you get into it. Will show off by singing it better than you though.

If you're someone who picks your fingers or skin, he'll slap your hands. You bleeding is making him hungry and distracting him. He'll find you something else to do with your hands. Same with nail biting.

He tends to pull his hair when stressed so if you stim with your hair he gets it and unless it's harmful (eating/pulling) he'll leave it, but if you're like him he's either cutting your hair short or braiding it.

Will die before admitting it but thinks you flapping, hopping, clapping, squealing is the most adorable thing ever. Also, laughs at you if you smack yourself, though.

Doesn't understand your memes so half your echolalia go over his head and he just kinda stares at you.

Scolds you for not sitting in the chair properly.

Smiles, nods, and occasionally says "that's nice dear" when you info dump. It's not that he doesn't care, he just can't listen to something he's not interested in for that long.

Mouth noises make his eye twitch but so long as they don't interrupt him, he won't scold you.

He understands you're not dumb but he also doesn't have the patience to help your or wait for you to get things done so he does them for you and tells you stop pouting when you get upset with him.

He likes you enough to not reject your touch and enjoys being in your space, but please refrain from happy biting the cannibal. He will bite back and it's less cute when he does.

Lucifer

The original AUDHD. You two chatter for hours about special interests.

He makes you stim toys.

You two do the adhd laugh so hard over dumb shit you gotta hold onto and smack each other thing. You both wind up on the floor.

Literally would never talk down to you or trigger your RSD. He's spent centuries feeling like he's constantly annoying, dumb, and struggling to time manage and do tasks.

Is equally fed up with people offering to do things for him because he can do it he just needs help getting started. The more you ask if he wants you to do it or when he's gonna do it the harder it is. So you two just sorta hobble together a system for getting shit done.

It's not perfect but if it gets outta hand he can just snap his fingers and fix it.

He happy flaps with his hands and wings and constantly knocks you or other shit over. It embarrasses him but you're in love. You two sometimes hold hands to do the happy bounce squeal, shaking each other.

He initiates happy bites more than you do. Honestly you both start looking like chew toys.

You two echolali all the time and share new ones you find. If you ever can't find each other, just shout one of your current vocal stims and he'll respond.

Literally, the definition of choas couple.

#hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader

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thebookbutterfly · 2 months

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Hey there! Could you possibly write a Sandor Clegane x gender neutral reader where Sandor has a soft spot for reader and reader feels the same? He tries to hide it but one day reader get’s hurt and he patches them up and maybe confessions come out?

🦋 Little Bird— Sandor Clegane x gn!Reader

Summary: You get injured in an ambush. Sandor carries you to safety and takes care of you.

Tags: #so much hurt/comfort, #a teensy bit of angst, #fluffy ending, #potentially OOC Sandor Clegane but personally I think he is pretty baby girl, #request

Warnings: Gender Neutral, no use of Y/N, descriptions of blood and injury, mentions of death, cannon compliant threats of violence, no beta and no ‘ragrets' [1,371 words]

AN: This is a request by @agender-wolfie. I really hope that this is what you were looking for! It came out a bit longer than I intended, but I am such a sucker for hurt/comfort tropes I really shouldn’t be surprised lmao. I wrote this all in one sitting and I haven’t done any editing so please excuse any errors. Happy reading! 🦋 Love BB

If you like this work my requests are currently open! So please give me your ideas ;)

You hissed a curse, gravelly and threadbare, as Sandor sidestepped another fallen tree.

A jumble of vulgar expressions that barely registered to you as they left your mouth. Almost all of them taught to you by the giant man holding you to his chest. The hound cradled you surprisingly gently, but his tension was evident. It was written all over him.

His scarred face, which you so rarely got the opportunity to study, was pulled into a broken grimace. The rest of him taut like a wire ready to snap beneath his armour. If you weren’t bleeding all over him, you might have reached up to prod the furrow of his brow. A silly attempt to smooth away Sandor’s permanent scowl.

The thought shattered as another wave pain tore through your ribs. Every bump in the path sowing fresh agony in the ruined skin and muscle.

Sandor ran a calloused thumb over the side of your knee in apology. Uttering clumsy noises of comfort as he picked up the pace.

“We’re almost there. Hold on just a bit longer, little bird.”

His gruff voice was cut with a noticeable amount of panic. Your brow scrunched at the unusual sound. You had gotten used to many things about Sandor as you travelled North with him. His rough sense of humour, bitter attitude, scarred face and huge stature were familiar to you by now. Underneath those things, his kindness and his softheartedness had become apparent to you too.

All the vulnerable pieces of himself that he smothered and choked beneath layers of vulgar humour and recklessness, had been presented to you in glimpses as you got to know him. But panic? Panic was new to you.

The farmhouse that Sandor had marked out in the distance finally drew into view. Up close it was a measly grey thing. The stone masonry looked haphazard at best but its chimney puffed with life. Behind it a barn lay with its doors open and rattling in the freezing wind.

You expected Sandor to head straight for the shelter of the barn but instead he strode to the front door. The family of four, seated around the dining room table inside, scrambled back as he slammed open the door with his usual subtlety. Which was to say— none at all.

You groaned as the sudden movement jostled your wound. Normally you would have chastised him for being so rude but your head was swimming. Too weak to lift your hand, you focused your energy on your eyes. Willing them to stay open, if not for your sake then for the sake of your worried companion.

An old man stepped forward to speak but Sandor cut him off, “One of you better be a healer, because if they die I will mount all of your heads outside on sticks.”

It was an ugly threat and they paled. The youngest boy whimpered looking suddenly ill. A younger woman with dark hair and a generous smattering of freckles stepped forward. She gestured a slightly shaky hand towards the table before him, before turning to her family.

“Clear the table, quickly. We can lay them down here,” her attention shifted back to the massive man standing in the doorway, “I’m not a healer by profession but I’ll do everything I can.”

Sandor seemed pleased enough by this answer. The rest of the family had been wise enough not to put up a fight and so Sandor stepped forward. He eased his grip and lay you down on the hastily cleared surface.

He moved to step away and let this stranger do her work but you whimpered. Fingertips clutching at air until he shifted back into reach.

A leather belt was stuffed between your teeth as your tunic was torn up the side. Unfamiliar hands grasped at your arms and legs. Holding you down with a bruising grip. All the while, Sandor brushed his bloodied fingers over your forehead and through your hair. The warmth of his skin a small consolation for the pain you were about to endure.

The woman lifted a needle and thread. With a glance at Sandor and his affirming nod she began to count down and you closed your eyes, unable to look.

Three.

Two.

One.

Fire. Your body was on fire. You arched off the table. Trying to escape the agony, the needle slowly piecing your flesh back together. The table shook as you thrashed but the hands holding you down didn’t falter. Sandor’s gravely words of comfort were the last things ringing in your ears as the world went black.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first thing that you noticed when you woke up was the lack of pain. Your side still ached, the wound tender, but it was a dull throbbing now. No longer, the screaming torture it was as Sandor carried you away from where you were ambushed.

The second was the warmth. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this warm since you and Sandor had journeyed across the border into the North. Sandor.

You opened your eyes slowly. The lighting was dim but from what you could tell you were inside the barn. The door was closed now though and soft orange candlelight illuminated the space.

You lay on your good side underneath a thick layer of blankets, and next to you lay the man your eyes sought for. His arm tucked you to him, large calloused hand resting somewhere on your lower back.

His heart thudded rhythmically beneath where your head lay on his chest. His even breathing and faint snores filled the quiet. Despite your inner protests it was the most comfortable you had been in years.

You gazed up at him, not wanting to wake him just yet. Sandor didn’t sleep nearly enough and you were content to watch the way the candlelight danced across his skin. It caught on his scarred cheek. Shadows flickering on the panes of his face.

Unable to resist you lifted a hand to his cheek. Your touch was featherlight but his eyes snapped open. Sandor’s gaze flicked to you immediately. Scanning you for distress and finding none, his body relaxed.

“Seven Hells, I thought you were going to die. Never do that again,” he said gruffly. His cheeks were flushed but he made no move to shift away from you.

Your voice was cracked from screaming but you still managed to mumble, “M’Sorry.”

Sandor sighed, “It wasn’t your fault, little bird.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a water-skein. Unscrewing the top he held it out towards you.

“Here, drink. Then you can go back to sleep,” he said.

“Thank you.”

The moisture eased the pain in your throat and soon you were snuggled back up under Sandor’s arm. The wind howled through the rafters and you both sat in silence for a little while.

Your thoughts broke the quiet, “Thank you for carrying me here. Thank you for staying.”

Sandor’s eyes met yours, they were unguarded and soft in a way that seemed reserved for you. Reserved for these conversations in the dark.

His voice was low as he replied, “I would have carried you to the ends of the earth, little bird.”

You studied him, the scars that mottled his skin, the cut on his brow and the curl of his mouth. Something deep within you settled, like a cat stretching out on a rug.

“You’re a good man, Sandor Clegane,” you said.

The conviction in your voice hit him harder than any blow on the battlefield ever had. The tidal wave of emotions that followed threatened to take him under but he swallowed them down.

You pretended not to notice his watery eyes and he lifted his spare hand to stroke your head. “Go to sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”

You nodded sleepily, too tired to fight it off any longer. A few seconds pass before you feel it. The soft press of his lips on your forehead. They linger there for a while before he pulls back, the warmth that they leave behind searing like a brand on your skin. You smile as you drift off, lulled to sleep by his warm embrace and steady breathing.

“Goodnight, little bird.”

#bbrequestlist #sandor clegane x reader #sandor x reader #sandor clegane #sandor the hound clegane #got #game of thrones #sandor clegane x you #the hound #tyrion lannister #sansa stark #oberyn x reader #prince oberyn #no use of y/n #hurt/comfort #whump #request #banners by cafekitsune

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sirspazingtonthefourth · 9 months

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Did You Miss Me?

Summary: Katsuki worries that you might be cheating on him when you don’t seem to miss him when he leaves on long missions. 7.5k, angsty fluff, domesticity, Bakugo x Reader

A/N: A story I’ve had kicking around for a while and decided to write and post. It is almost entirely fluff, with a little bit of angst mixed in. It’s aimed at military brats in general and I may or may not have written this to help myself deal with that trauma a little bit.

Content Warnings: Cursing, implied sex once, suspecting partner of cheating, might be a little ooc

You were terrible at expressing your emotions. It had always been that way. You never learned how to say the things you wanted to say, and you hardly even understood them enough to know what you felt at all.

It was one of the reasons you and Katsuki got along so well.

You two had met at the entrance exam to U.A., and it had been anything but a happy meeting. He’d thought you were stuck up, and you’d thought he was an ass. You both somehow ended up in Class 1A together, and had butted heads through half of the first year. But somewhere in that half a year, something about the way you saw each other changed.

You couldn’t put your finger on it, at first. The both of you sniped at each other as you had been doing for months, still insulted each other, still tormented each other. But somewhere along the way you both realized a fundamental misunderstanding in your communication.

Katsuki, you realized, didn’t talk with words. At least, he didn’t express what he meant with words. And you, he realized, didn’t either. Katsuki spoke with actions, and you spoke with body language. And once you both realized that, no one could tell the difference between how you two acted.

You both sniped still, insulted still, tormented still. But you were actually speaking to each other now, in a language no one else understood. His friends knew his actions spoke louder than his words, that he rarely meant his insults wholeheartedly, but they could not trade words without speaking one, as the two of you did by the end of that first year.

“How do you do that?” he asked aloud that summer, staring up at the stars from his backyard. The two of you had just had a silent argument in front of both your parents at your birthday party. It hadn’t been anything big, just friendly teasing about your choice in cake flavor.

“Do what?”

“Talk like that. You say things without talking, and you’ve started to do these weird… bird chips too. How do you talk like that?” You shrugged, laying down next to him to look at the stars too.

“Oh, the chirps? You just-”

“I don’t mean how you physically do it. How do you understand what I mean, even when I don’t say anything?”

“Because you do say things.” You turned to look at each other, and the look of contentment on your face melted Katsuki’s heart a little.

“Every time you crunch your nose when you’re confused, or raise your left eyebrow when you’re impressed, or scoff when you get embarrassed, you say something without even meaning to.”

“Tch, whatever,” he grumbled, turning back to the stars to hide the light blush on his cheeks.

“See, you did it just now, Pop Tart.” You poked his cheek as he pouted at the sky.

“I’m not a damn Pop Tart, whatever the hell that is.”

“‘Course you are! I mean, you’ve got such a sour personality, it’s a wonder anyone can stand you,” you said with a smile. “And when you get angry, you set your quirk off a little, even if you don’t mean to. It makes this little popping noise. So, Pop Tart.”

It was quiet between you two for a while, the sound of both of your parents talking amongst each other reaching into the night through the screen door. Your siblings were upstairs, keeping each other busy away from the adults. Maybe playing hide and seek, maybe just yelling at each other, speaking to one another the same way you spoke to Katsuki.

“Why do you talk like that? Without saying anything?” Katsuki whispered. You sat, still staring at the stars as you tried to figure out what to say. He almost thought you hadn’t heard, when you replied.

“Because words never worked for me. I mean, you’ve met my dad, he’s a bit of a hot head. Worse than you, sometimes,” you chuckle lightly, trying to push away the bad memories. “Someone like that isn’t in touch with his emotions enough to teach a kid how to talk about them, let alone how to deal with them. So I taught myself a way.”

You both kept talking that way your whole lives. Your classmates picked up that they could talk to you without talking, but only a few realized how to talk back. Katsuki, of all of them, was still the most fluent in that language, one you had spoken before learning how to actually talk.

You knew what he had meant in second year, when he sat with you in a tree after school, stuttering over his words and unwilling to meet your eyes as pink dusted over his cheeks. You had kissed him, just a quick peck on the lips. He knew what you meant when you pressed your forehead to his after, eyes scrunched tight and noses brushing together.

He had known what you had meant when you stood outside his dorm in the middle of the night a month later, dark rings under your eyes as you stared at nothing, looking so much smaller than you had ever let yourself be seen. He had pulled you into his chest, clutching you tight as you did the same, tears finally slipping from your eyes. And you had known what he meant when he rested his head on yours as you cried into his shoulder.

You stayed with him once your family left, the military calling your mother back to the States, your father and younger siblings in tow. The two of you had been prepared to fight on the matter. Fight for you to stay behind, finish your education at U.A. But it hadn’t been necessary. Your parents and his had pulled you two aside and suggested the idea before the two of you could even bring it up.

Your families had grown close over the year you and Katsuki had been friends, and your parents would have no one else house you if you were to stay. You both agreed quickly, and within two weeks of the conversation, you were moved into the Bakugo’s spare bedroom and your family had moved back to somewhere in the States.

It was the first time he noticed something truly strange about you. You moved on with your life almost too quickly. You adjusted to living with him and his family within a week, as if you had always lived with them. You never talked about your family. Granted, you rarely had, there’d been no need. Your house was practically Katsuki’s house too, your younger siblings had practically become his, too. Hell, he found himself missing them more than you seemed to.

But he brushed it off. After all, it was the middle of the school year. You couldn’t exactly let this shake you with the mandatory work studies and homework and all. And you still called your family, when you could. Time zones were quite the pain, but you made it work.

You graduated together. You were there when he and Eijiro opened their agency a year later. Hell, you were the first person to turn in an application to join, handing it to him the moment he clocked into the place for the first time. It was more a gesture, you both knew; you could have handed it to him that morning at the breakfast table.

Through everything, you both made communication a priority. You were both well aware of how you two couldn’t talk about your emotions to save your lives, so sat down regularly to talk things through. Even when your anger issues fed off each other and the two of you blew up, you would make it a point to come back later and talk it through. Sometimes it took a few days, sometimes you needed to talk with a friend to mediate, but you would talk.

You both wanted this to work. Katsuki knew that. You wouldn’t put so much effort into something you didn’t want to work out. Neither would he. But lately, something had been feeling wrong.

Katsuki and you both had started to take missions that required you to leave for weeks at a time. He always made a big deal about you leaving, getting a “last date” in before you left. He'd almost made you late for several flights because he didn’t want to say goodbye yet. When you were gone, he couldn’t wait for you to get back. He was antsier than normal, more likely to snap at the heroes and sidekicks at the agency. He called you every night before you went to bed, even if it meant he had to wake up at 3 a.m. to wish you good night.

When you got back, there was always something that had to happen. A date of some kind, no matter how small. He would be nigh inseparable from you for hours, showering you with affection the whole time. Whether he picked you up from the airport or you took an Uber back to the house, the first thing he would always do was pull you into him, smothering you in a hug and kissing you all over your face to make up for lost time.

But when he left… it was different.

You went on a “last date” with him, too, but it never seemed like you were as desperate to make the most of it like he was. You’d help him pack, sneaking in some of his favorite snacks somehow no matter how hard he tried to keep you from doing it. You’d kiss him at the door, or at the airport if you dropped him off, but it was him that always tried to stay longer, never you trying to make him stay. No one ever mentioned you seeming more stressed with him gone, even Mina and Eijiro, who could read your body language almost as well as Katsuki himself could after seven years of constantly being around you.

When he got back, you would have your own little celebration. You’d greet him at the airport gate, pulling him into you for a hug as he did for you, rubbing your head against his in a gesture that meant more to you than kissing him ever could, whispering how you missed him. You’d make a meal, cuddle under a blanket for a movie night that would often turn into something more.

But you were not constantly seeking to be by his side, like he was seeking to be by yours. You never pulled him into you like he was the last source of air, like he did for you. The thing that really made him suspicious was that you outright said that you missed him. You never outright said what you were feeling. You were too uncertain of how, usually.

“It just… it feels like they don’t miss me when I’m gone,” he confessed to Eijiro. It was one of his days off while you were gone, something he hated since it meant he had nothing to do and you weren’t there. The two of them were sitting in a nice cafe in a back corner, away from windows with hats pulled low to hopefully avoid being spotted.

“Have you guys talked about it yet?” the red-head asked. “If it’s really bothering you that much you know they wouldn’t brush you off.” Katsuki’s leg was bouncing under the table, and he raised the paper coffee cup to his lips. It was good coffee, one of your favorite places, in fact.

“It’s just… what if there’s someone else?” Eijiro choked a little, setting the cup down and turning his head as he tried to hack up the coffee that had gone down the wrong pipe.

“I know, I don’t think they’d do that either, but-”

“Clearly you do, if you’re bringing it up. Seriously, man, talk to them. As soon as you can. What even makes you think that, anyway? You know how they feel about stuff like that. They can’t even stand when two love interests try to kiss when one of them is in a relationship, and that’s TV.”

Katsuki rubbed at his face, shaking his head. His hand came to rest on his mouth as he tried to form into words what he was thinking. There was an old coffee stain on the edge of the wooden table. He remembered it from one of your first dates. Someone had closed the cash register too loudly and you’d jumped, spilling coffee over the table and your leg. It was an old joke between you both, now.

“I don’t really know. But… they don’t seem like they miss me, and I can’t think of another reason they wouldn’t. It doesn’t make any sense!” His hands ran into his hair, tugging on the strands as his hat began to ride up. Eijiro let out a sigh, the two of them oblivious to the growing noise in the cafe.

“Whatever you decide to do, it should probably be face to face. This is not the kind of conversation you have with someone over the phone.”

“You got that right,” Katsuki mumbled, hands pushing his hat further up his head.

“Mommy, look! It’s Dynamight!” Oh shit.

The day you got back was tense. All the usual things Katsuki would have planned were canceled. Eijiro was right, he needed to talk to you about this. He asked Mina and Eijiro to show up, just in case it turned into a fight. He prayed it wouldn’t.

He picked you up at the airport, pulled you into him like he always did, but you knew something was wrong. His shoulders were tense, and he had looked nervous when you saw him. He pulled away faster than normal, hands on your shoulders to tell you he meant business.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about tonight.”

You were tired. You’d just gotten off a four hour flight, the mission had been exhausting, and you hadn’t slept right since you left home. You never slept right without Katsuki around. The part of you that sounded like your dad told you to brush him off, reprimand him for asking this of you so soon after your arrival.

The rest of you told that part to shove it. Katsuki was worried, and he wanted to talk about something. You owed it to him as your partner to talk it over with him, whatever it turned out to be.

“Of course, Love. Am I allowed to change beforehand?” You cracked a small smile, resting a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder so he knew you were taking him seriously, so he knew the joke wasn’t meant to be a jab. He smiled in return, resting his head against yours.

“I guess.”

Katsuki’s prayers were answered. The conversation didn’t turn into a fight. In fact, it didn’t happen at all. Almost as soon as he got home, right as you left to change into clothes that didn’t “reek of plane and airport,” as you liked to put it, his manager called.

“Hello, Dynamight. I know this is short notice, but there’s been an emergency in Okinawa. It’s all hands on deck over there, and we need you to get over there. There’s a plane leaving in five hours, we need you on it. I’ll text you the details.”

“The hell? I have the next two days off and Y/N just got back!”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but this came directly from the Commission. I tried to keep you out of it, but they wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry. It’s supposed to take a month, that was the shortest they would allow you to stay.”

“Tch… fine. Send me the details. I’ll be there.”

“Will do, sir. Sorry, again.”

The line went dead, and Katsuki wanted to throw his phone so badly. Blame it on some accident in the kitchen or something. He couldn’t make it to a flight if he didn’t know where it was, and he couldn’t get the information if he never got that text from his manager.

“You have to go in, don’t you?” Katsuki turned to you. You were on top of the stairs in your favorite pair of pants and an old All Might t-shirt you had stolen from his side of the closet. You still looked tired from the flight, but you gestured for him to come up.

“I’m sorry, baby. I-” You pulled him into a kiss, letting him hold you as you did. When he pulled away, he rested his head on yours, noses touching.

“It’s fine. I know you would have stayed if you could. We can talk about that thing when you get back, okay? Now come on. How long do you have to pack?”

“A couple hours at best. The flight leaves in five hours,” he said. You closed your eyes and nodded softly, taking the information in. You were no doubt already planning what he would need. He could do it himself, you both knew, but it was something you cherished doing with him.

“Alright. How long?”

“A month. But it’s an emergency situation, so it might go longer.” You nodded, pulling your head away and holding his hand as you looked into his eyes. The look you gave him, tired but full of love, made him feel awful for what he wanted to talk to you about.

“Let’s get packing, then.”

When he got to the hotel he would be staying in, he wanted to just collapse. But he was still in outside clothes, and he refused to go to bed without pajamas. He dug into his bag for where you always packed the comfy pants he liked sleeping in.

They were a pair you had ordered for yourself last year with angry chihuahuas, but you’d gotten them in the wrong size. You had been rather upset, excited for the new pair of silly pajama pants, and he had immediately taken them and put them on, fully expecting them to be so ridiculously not his size that it made you laugh. He had not expected them fit him perfectly, and when he walked out with the angry chihuahua pants you had been equally stunned.

The memory of your face when he’d walked out, utterly gobsmacked that the pants had fit him, stuck with him. You had been surprised, and trying not to laugh at his face. And then you’d pretended to accuse him of switching the sizes because he “wanted the damn things so bad,” even though he hadn’t even been in the house when you ordered them. It made him smile, even now as he pulled the pair of pants out. They were bigger and more crinkly than normal.

He pulled the couple bags of snacks out from where you’d folded the pants around them. A bag of extra spicy kaki-no-tane, and two packs of his favorite instant ramen had been hidden in the pants, and the pockets felt like they had some kind of candy in them. But most important was the note you’d taped to the snacks.

Come back to talk to me about that thing, okay Pop Tart?

Love

Y/N

There were a couple of hasty doodles on the note. A few hearts, a stick figure drawing of him blowing up a villain with a cartoonishly angry face, and a stick figure crowd cheering for him. Your notes were as cheesy as they had been in high school, and he laughed. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see you calling.

“Your doodles are still as terrible as always,” he said by way of greeting. You huffed good naturedly on the other end.

“Well, I’m sorry Mr. Art Critic, sir, but I only had a few minutes to make them.”

“In a few minutes you still managed to make my mouth bigger than my damn head. And the hearts? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had feelings for me.” The exchange felt nice, but something about it felt hollow to him. The nagging feeling that you had someone else wouldn’t leave him alone, making him feel guilty for having this silly little conversation with you.

“Maybe I do, or maybe I thought they just enhanced my masterpiece.” You sounded less tired than earlier. Maybe you’d gotten a nap in. Maybe someone else was there with you, making you feel better after a long day.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, trying to sound as happy as you did. But it was hard. The doubt, the frustration, and the missing you all made it hard.

“... It’s really bothering you, huh? That thing you wanted to talk about?” He sighed. Even three hours and hundreds of miles away, you could read him.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to feel worried about something like… like whatever it is that’s bothering you.” He almost broke, told you right there what was scaring him so much.

“I… I don’t think I can talk about it over the phone. It’s a face to face kind of conversation, you know?” he said, swallowing a lump in his throat. He could almost see you nodding, that stupid, warm smile on your face you used to reassure him.

“I get it. And I meant what I wrote on that note. Come back, so you can tell me all about it. Don’t think you get to die just to get out of talking through this,” you said, and he could hear your own throat start to tighten.

“I will. Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Katsuki. Love.” He smirked at your unconventional confession. Though he supposed he wasn’t much better, for playing along with it.

“Love, too.”

The month dragged on for Katsuki. Helping with the disaster relief, keeping villains from taking advantage of the weakened infrastructure, and his worry made every hour feel like days. But he had a date marked on his calendar, exactly a month after he left. The day the Commission said he could go home.

Until it wasn’t

“Those fucking bastards! Changing the date last minute. They told me I’d leave tomorrow two days after I got here, just to fuckin’... Others are going home on time, but-”

“Katsu, hey.” You pulled his attention back to your face on the computer screen. Your arm was stretched out of frame, and he just knew you were holding your laptop screen. “It’s okay. I had a feeling.”

“It’s not okay! First they pull me here right after you get back, despite the time I took off, then they change the day I’m supposed to go home… Sometimes I just wish I was able to blast myself all the way back to you, so they can’t keep me here like this.” It felt like he’d grabbed your heart and squeezed it. You had to hold back a couple tears, and you resolved to call your mother about it later. You owed her… you weren’t sure what, but you owed her something.

Katsuki was just sitting silent on the other end, staring at you for a minute.

“What do you mean, you had a feeling?” There was the edge of suspicion in his voice, and it cut. You didn’t know what he suspected of you, but it hurt that he did at all.

“It was like this with Mom a lot. Anytime she would tell us when she was going to come home, it would get changed. It’s why I told you not to tell me, it’s bad luck.”

“But I’ve told you when I’ll come home before, and you’ve told me too. It hasn’t changed before. The Commission’s just being-”

“A government entity that doesn’t care about either of us beyond numbers in a list. Pieces to push around on the board. The other times were with other agencies, and agencies care about their heroes because their heroes are the ones running the agencies. The Commission doesn’t give a shit.”

He sighed on the other end. He was laying on his stomach talking to you, chin in his hand as he turned his head away. His elbow braced him against the bed, and his feet kicked up behind him. He would kill you if you mentioned that he kicked his feet up like a teen girl on her phone to anyone. It made it that much more funny to you.

“It sucks. I just wanna get home, and now I have to wait another week.”

“Check the inside pocket on your suitcase,” you said, a mischievous little smirk starting on your face.

“You didn’t.”

“You won’t know unless you look~!” You sang. He huffed, going off screen to check his bag. It took too long.

“The other pocket,” you yelled. You heard the telltale crinkling of the bag of wasabi kaki-no-tane and Katsuki cursing you as he stomped back to the bed.

“How the fuck do you always manage to sneak these things in?! I swear, you have a second quirk you aren’t telling me about,” he said, opening the bag and grabbing a few pieces.

“Sure I do. Not my fault you never check your bag,” You shot back.

“I do! And then this shit appears out of nowhere!” You laughed at his false indignation. You knew he liked the snacks, or you wouldn’t pack them. Plus, it was a game the two of you could play, no matter how far apart you were. No matter how suspicious of you he felt.

“I’m going to have some extra time while I’m here. Anything you want?” He asked. You snapped back into reality. You hadn’t even realized you’d started to drift away.

“Oh, um… Could you bring back some brown sugar senbei? They’re super tasty, and I wanna mail some to Mom for Christmas.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll pick a couple packs up. We could just get some back home, you know.”

“I do, but the Okinawan ones taste better, and those cost an arm and a leg everywhere else.”

“So I hear. Anything else you need?”

“Nah, just the head of whoever made the decision to yank you around, but they’re probably here, which means I can get that myself,” you joked. Katsuki cracked a smile.

“Careful, they might be listening to you through your computer mic and charge you with conspiracy to commit murder. Then we’d have to go on the run, and you and I both know Ei couldn’t handle running the agency alone.”

“He won’t be alone, he’s got Mina and Denki and Sero.”

“Oh, yes, and they just inspire confidence.” You blew a raspberry at him and his attitude.

“You know damn well they can handle it if it’s all four of them.”

“You’re right, I do.” Katsuki fought down a yawn. “I gotta turn in. G’night, Y/N.”

“Night, Katsu. Stay safe.”

“I will.”

There was another delay in getting Katsuki home, and you scolded him for mentioning he had a week left. You made him promise not to tell you until he was on the plane and had taken off that he was coming home. You worked on getting ingredients together to make mapo tofu and miso butter cookies in the meantime. You wanted to have everything put together for when he got home.

You had a feeling he was going to want to talk to you the minute he got home, so you called Eijiro and Mina to let them know ahead of time that you would be calling them in to mediate. You didn’t think it would escalate, but Katsuki had been sitting on this for over a month. He might blow up after keeping a lid on this for so long. He had been adamant about not talking about whatever was bothering him over the phone, and you didn’t push him.

The minute you got the text that he had taken off, at 2:27 p.m., you started cooking. You didn’t want to cook the tofu until he got back, so he could have a fresh, hot meal, but the cookies could be made ahead of time. Once they were done, you did a quick round of the house to make sure everything was put away and clean.

You checked the time. 5 p.m. You grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and a packet of Airborne. You opened the packet and the water bottle, dumped the powder in, and popped the cap back on. You shook the bottle to mix the two together all the way to your car.

It was with you as you sat in the arrivals area in the airport, waiting for Katsuki’s flight. You’d been waiting for twenty minutes. Not uncommon, but you were worried. Had something happened once he got airborne? Had the plane needed to turn back? You checked your phone for any new messages from Katsuki.

The waiting was always the worst part. Flights weren’t always on time, and you hated it. It meant you could never be certain when Katsuki was going to be in your reach again. Or if something had happened that the tower just hadn’t found out about yet.

The relief you felt when you looked at the big screen displaying the arrivals and departures and saw that Katsuki’s flight had landed ten minutes ago almost knocked the wind out of you. He was safe, nothing had happened midair, he would probably be out in a few minutes.

Ten more minutes passed before you saw Katsuki walk out among the crowd. He had his carry on bag over one shoulder, scanning the crowd of people sitting, looking for you. You stood, walking over to him. He picked up the pace once he saw you, crushing you with a hug once you got close enough and burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” you said to him. His shoulders tensed a little. You’d said the wrong thing. Or maybe it was something you’d done. Whatever it was, you didn’t know what to do to fix it.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered into your neck, not letting go of you despite his want to leave.

“Okay,” you said, pushing your head into his through the ball cap he wore, waiting for him to let go so you could go get his suitcase. He did eventually let go, and you handed him the water bottle.

“Okinawa’s hot this time of year, and you just got off a plane,” you said as you handed it to him. He stared at the pink lemonade flavored death you’d just handed him.

“You trying to kill me or something?”

“Look, I hate it too, but it does work and I don’t want you getting sick right after you’ve gotten home.” He rolled his eyes, but did as you asked and drank the vitamin C rich water. You pretended not to notice him fake gagging after he’d downed the water bottle as you walked towards the baggage claim.

When you got home, Eijiro and Mina were already there. You had long since given Mina a key to your house, and Katsuki had given one to Ei. They were your closest friends, welcome in your home anytime, even if you had to fight Katsuki to agree to give them the keys. He’d said they could know they were welcome without having the keys, but he ultimately caved.

The worrying part was that you hadn’t asked them to come over or told them Katsuki was home yet. Which meant Katsuki had called them. Which meant he was also worried this would blow up. Not a good sign.

You greeted your friends before helping Katsuki carry his bags upstairs. He didn’t even take time to change clothes or unpack anything before heading back downstairs. That really set off alarm bells. True, you both had only been taking missions out of the city for a year now, and Katsuki didn’t always unpack and change right away like you, but it didn’t sit well with you.

You both sat in the living room facing each other. Mina had made tea, a small tactic to keep things civil. You couldn’t very well flip a table over dishes when there were dishes on the table.

Eijiro sat to Katsuki’s right, Mina on your left. That way they could signal each other without necessarily alerting either of you in case they needed to act without you both noticing.

“Okay, Katsuki. We’re both here, what do you need to talk about?” He took a deep breath through his nose, gathering his strength. His fingers were steepled, hiding the lower half of his face as he stared at the coffee table between you. Kirishima rested a hand on his shoulder to encourage him.

“Do you miss me?” he blurted out, looking you in the eyes. “When I leave, do you miss me at all?” It felt… bad. You didn’t know how to describe the feeling, though you supposed hurt was the best way to say it.

“Of course I do. Why would y-” you stopped yourself. This wasn’t a blame-game, he was worried. “What was it that… that gave you the impression that I didn’t?” You looked away from him as you chose your words, but you brought your gaze back to his as you finished.

“You… you don’t act like you miss me. You don’t… treat me how I treat you when you come back. Or when I leave. It’s like it’s just a normal day for you!” His shoulders were tightening, and he tore his gaze from you, like he couldn’t stand the sight of you.

“Hey, man. Calm down,” Ei urged.

“Okay,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “What exactly do you mean, when you say I don’t treat you like you treat me?”

“Do you honestly not see it? I… When you’re about to go, I take every second I can with you. I feel like part of me is gone when you aren’t here, and-” Katsuki started to stand, and Eijiro stepped in.

“Sit down, Kat. You’re worked up. Take a breath, a drink, something.” Katsuki looked like he wanted to challenge the red head, but Mina stood too.

“Bakugo, he’s right. You need to calm down.” He sighed, collapsing back to the couch. You had a feeling he’d been planning on pacing, but it was best for everyone to stay seated. It was easier to get worked up if you were already up and moving around. Katsuki took a drink of the tea, wincing as he burned his tongue. You reached a hand across the table to him, and he took it as he set the cup down.

“... I’m different, when you’re gone. Everyone knows it. Hell, Ei’s had to stop me from blasting a hole in my desk over the stupidest shit when you’re gone. When you get back I…”

He sat, thinking about how to say wherever it was he needed to say. You rubbed your thumb across the back of his hand to comfort him, and he did the same.

“I can’t let you go when you leave or when you come back. But when I leave… you act like you don’t care.”

“Of course I care!” You interrupted. You winced as soon as you said it. Why was it that the tactics you hated when they were used against you were always the first ones you used? “Sorry. Please, continue.” Katsuki nodded.

“You don’t seem like you value the time before I go the same way I do. No one notices you acting any different at the agency when I’m not around. You don’t… you act like there’s someone else here while I’m gone.”

The bottom dropped out of your stomach. He thought what?

“And I don’t think you would, but I don’t know why else you would act like that. I mean, you don’t talk about how you feel, even less than me. But every time I come back you have to tell me that you missed me, and it just… it doesn’t make sense.” He spat out all at once, his free hand tangling itself in his hair.

You just sat there, breathing. Did he think you were cheating on him? Or was it just his bad communication skills? Granted, they were better than they were, but it was times like these you wondered how much they’d improved.

“Katsuki,” you said, reaching your second hand to grab his, “if I tell you that there’s no one else, will you believe me?” Tears were starting to fall as you looked at him. He moved his hand from his hair, wrapping it around yours.

“Promise me.” He lifted his hands from yours, leaving you free to hold your hands up. It was something you’d started with your siblings. The childish game of crossing your fingers behind your back to get out of a promise had taken hold in them when they were younger, and so to prove honesty you would hold your hands in front of you. Proof that you meant what you said. It was something you still did, no matter how childish it seemed.

“Katsuki, I promise you… I would never, ever, cheat on you.” Relief washed over Katsuki, the tension draining from his shoulders as he watched you.

“I believe you. And… I’m sorry, I don’t- I…” You rested a hand on his again, tears still bubbling op and spilling out from your eyes.

“What do you actually want to ask? Because if you actually thought I was cheating-”

“I didn’t! I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of another reason you would act like that.” He’d cut you off, but you decided to let it slide.

“Like what?”

“Like me leaving isn’t a big deal! When you leave, it feels like everything falls apart. When I leave you just… act like it’s business as usual.” he took a deep breath, grabbing your hand from across the table. You nodded in understanding.

“Do you think you’d feel okay doing the rest of this in private?”

“Yeah. Just… didn’t want things to get out of hand. Are you okay with that?” you nodded.

“Okay, Eiji. You heard them. We come back to find the house destroyed again and you both are grounded, ‘kay?” Mina half-joked. There would be hell to pay if she found out you two started fighting once they were gone. Eijiro got up to go with her, giving a last supportive pat on Katsuki’s back before walking out the door.

You took a breath, drawing back into yourself as you carefully put the words together.

“When you leave… I don’t know. I don’t miss you the same way you miss me. I can’t miss you like you miss me. I don’t know how, I guess.” You paused, taking a minute to breathe. You were already crying, and you still needed to explain. Katsuki didn’t ask anything as you pulled yourself together, so you continued.

“Mom… the first memory I have of her is when I was two. She’s in the kitchen making eggs. My second is a couple months later. She was in the desert, and she’d recorded a message to send to me and Dad. She couldn’t come home when she said she would. She… was trying really hard not to cry.” Again you paused. Again, Katsuki didn’t ask anything.

“That kept happening. Over and over and over again. I got older and older, and I started to understand what it meant for her to leave. I never knew for sure when she’d come back, cause if she told us it was almost a guarantee that the date would change. Hell, I didn’t know if she’d come back. And that was everyday for me for a long time.

“The point is… When you have to keep saying goodbye to someone, you learn how to let them go, even if it is just because you can’t remember how to hold on. You keep going because life keeps going and you can’t afford to spend time thinking about how they might not come back this time.”

You took a last, shuddery breath, staring down at the coffee table between you two.

“I don’t know how to miss you like you miss me. I don’t know if I know how to miss anyone, anymore. You’re right, I do say it when I hate downright talking about things like that, but it’s because you deserve to hear it even if I don’t know how to say it how we normally talk. You deserve to be missed. And… and I’m sorry that I don’t-”

Katsuki pulled you to your feet, guiding you around the coffee table towards his couch. You collapse next to him on the couch. He holds you close, and you do the same, crying, terrified that after everything you said, he doesn’t think you care. You do care, you care so much, but you don’t know how to express it. You hardly know how to feel it.

“Hey, shh. It’s alright. I get it.” You sag into him even more, relief flooding through you. He didn’t think you were cheating on him. He didn’t think you didn’t care about him.

“You’re shit at explanations, though. Did you really have to bring your mom into this?” he joked.

“Shut up, you dick,” you laugh back, tears and a little snot still running on your face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know. I should’ve asked.” You gently swatted his shoulder. It was awkward, considering it was behind you, but you made it work.

“You didn’t know to ask. I can’t blame you for that. Thank you for wanting to talk to me about it. Even if you did think there was someone else.” Katsuki chuckled at you, rocking you both on the couch as you just enjoyed each other’s company, something you hadn’t been able to do in person in months.

“Can you blame me? You and I both know you could pull just about anybody you wanted. Long as you managed to keep your big fat mouth shut, that is.” You snorted, snuggling in closer to your partner.

“You’re half right. I managed to pull this fucking amazing guy a while back, and I didn’t have to watch my mouth at all. In fact-” you pulled back to look Katsuki in the eyes, “As I recall, he said it was hot after I cursed him out for making fun of me for being scared of a cash register.”

He smirked back. Your eyes were puffy, there were tear tracks down your face, and snot ran down your nose, and he was certain it was all over his shirt now. You looked a total mess. But you were his mess, and he wouldn’t give you up for anything. He brushed a thumb under one of your eyes, wiping away a lingering tear.

“Dude must have some pretty shitty taste to still like you after that, huh?” Your laugh came out almost like a cough.

“Oh, the worst. He’s got these chihuahua pajama pants that he insists he didn’t want, just took them cause they were his size. As if he didn’t go behind my back and change the size so they could be his.”

“And you didn’t make fun of him? I’m impressed.”

“Oh, no. I made fun of him all the time, even before that. Gave him this stupid nickname but he didn’t even get mad about it once.”

“Bet he loved your stupid doodles.”

“Oh he did. Absolutely head over heels for those dumb things. Never critiqued me once, no matter how awful they were. I mean, seriously, they were just stick figures.”

“He sounds boring,” Katsuki said, leaning in so your noses brushed.

“Oh, god, he is awful. But I’m glad he’s in my life, even if I don’t tell him to his face as much as I probably should.”

“Yeah, well, just because you don’t say it to his face doesn’t mean he doesn’t know.” You leaned up to kiss him. It was slow, loving, the both of you just taking each other in again after so long apart.

“Good. I’d hate to have wasted so many cuddles on him for him to not get the message,” you said, snuggling back into Katsuki. He shifted so he was laying back with you on top of him. You stayed that way for a minute, listening to each other’s breathing.

“You wanna watch something?” he asked.

“Only if you want to,” you said, eyes closed as your head rested on his chest, listening to his heart.

“I do.”

“Then turn on something.”

“The remote’s on the other side of the table.”

“And?”

“And I can’t reach it with you laying on me.”

“Sucks.” Katsuki sighed in mock annoyance.

“Can I at least get a blanket?”

“No. I’m the blanket now.”

“Come on, Y/N.”

“Fine, I’ll get the remote. But I still get to be the blanket.”

“Deal.”

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