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#pining bakugo
wy-ote · 1 year
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lay your head to rest // in the snowbank with me
Finally finished Part One of a thread fic I have on twitter. I thought I'd share it here as well!
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BKDK | Winter!AU | Pining Bakugo | Part One
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At first, Katsuki didn’t hear the shouting. To him, it sounded just like the howling blizzard that raged outside. It wasn't until the wolf let out a low growl that he finally stopped to listen. Another shout. It was more distinct this time. Someone calling out a name. The wolf, neck and tail fully fluffed, let out a sharp bark. "Quiet-" Katsuki snapped. He moved to the window by the cabin door, peering out into the darkness. He couldn't see much, except for dancing snow and the faint silhouette of trees. The wolf's nails clicked frantically on the wooden floor. Another bark. This time, more urgent. "Fuck, okay-" Katsuki opened the door and the wolf bounded into the blast of sharp cold air.
He watched as his companion disappeared, frantically barking at whatever lurked in the trees. 'Maybe dinner,' Katsuki thought to himself, stepping out onto the porch. The bit of snow that had drifted up crunched beneath his boots. He squinted, the cold already starting to freeze his nose hairs. It was quiet for a moment before he heard more barking and a figure appeared in the white haze, paired with his wolf. Katsuki frowned. He reached for the hunter's knife at his hip.
Only an idiot or trouble would be out in a storm like this. 
"I can't play right now!" Katsuki recognized the panicked voice before he could make out the face. He clicked his tongue, storming out to meet the wolf and his captured prey.
"What the hell are you doing out here, Deku?" 
“Kacchan! M-my ram!” His childhood friend’s face was stained with frozen tear tracks—cheeks, nose, and lips a startling bright red. “I-I found the g-gate open! He w-wasn’t in the barn—the storm-” Izuku rambled, turning his attention back to the woods. “I have to-” 
“You got a fucking death wish or something?” Katsuki growled. “That dumb sheep probably holed itself up at the neighbors-” 
“I checked there already! What if he got hurt? Or stuck!” Izuku tried to tug his sleeve free of the wolf’s fangs. “What if the blizzard-” 
Katsuki whistled, and the wolf released Izuku. “Your place ain’t close. How long you been wandering around?” Katsuki asked. 
“I-I don’t know. A while?” Izuku turned back to the woods. “I noticed him missing just before the storm kicked up.” 
“That was almost two hours ago. That dumb thing could be anywhere!” Katsuki snapped his fingers and motioned to Izuku. The wolf let out a huff before circling the nerd, sniffing at his coat. Once he was satisfied, he stopped, wagging his tail. “Fetch-” Katsuki commanded. The wolf barked and took off into the snow once again. “You better hope it didn’t go far. I doubt he can track much of a scent in the snow-” 
Izuku wiped his face. “I-I should keep looking too-”
Katsuki grabbed Izuku’s arm. “Don’t be stupid! You probably already got frostbite! Let him do his thing!” He gave him a tug. “Come inside.” Izuku resisted at first before finally letting himself be dragged into the small cabin Katsuki called home.
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Izuku stayed glued to the window until Katsuki finally pulled him over to the fireplace. “He doesn’t usually take off-” Izuku started to ramble, hardly acknowledging as Katsuki stripped him out of his snow packed outerwear. His shirt looked damp with sweat.
“Probably havin’ a rut,” Katsuki muttered. 
“What? No. It’s not the right time of year,” Izuku replied, tugging at his bottom lip. 
“So? I’ve seen that damn thing stumble over its own feet. Probably had rocks for brains.” 
“Kacchan-” Izuku shot him a glare.
Katsuki bit back a chuckle. He hung up the gloves and jacket by the fire. Izuku had already started pacing, shuffling over to check out the window again. Worry rolled off him in waves. Katsuki grabbed a hold of him and pushed him back over by the fire.
"Nothin' you can do, nerd-" Katsuki inspected his face, fingers brushing against the red tinged skin. Izuku blinked up at him sheepishly. Inhaling sharply. Katsuki ignored the hot, fluttery feeling in his stomach, shifting his gaze down to Izuku's hands. They felt like ice and were colored a beet red. A fairly good sign. "Boots off-" Katsuki muttered, pulling his hands away. 
"I'm fine, Kacchan-" 
"Shut the hell up and take your boots off. You probably lost half your toes in those damn peasant shoes," Katsuki growled, kneeling down in front of him. 
"They aren't peasant shoes!" Izuku argued. "I just got them repaired!" 
Katsuki slapped the side of his leg. "Don’t make me repeat myself, shitty nerd!" Muttering under his breath, Izuku obliged. He fumbled for a moment before kicking his boots off. Once free, Katsuki helped him out of his (painfully thin) socks.
His feet looked mostly fine, though they were starting to look a little white. "I'm gonna get you a change of clothes. Stay by the fire and don't go outside-" 
"No, really, it's okay, Kacchan-" 
"Don't be stupid! Even if wolf finds that stupid ram of yours, there's no way you can make it home tonight." Katsuki replied. "You can stay here and wait out the storm." Izuku had started muttering again, but Katsuki had already stepped into his room.
He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. He wouldn’t admit the feelings that simmered in the bottom of his gut. That fluttery, love sick feeling. Instead, Katsuki steadied the shake in his hands, collecting a full set of clothes for Izuku. He then returned to the living room, catching the green haired nerd peeking out the window yet again. “Jesus, would you relax already?” Katsuki growled. 
“Aren’t you worried?” Izuku replied, tugging at his lip again. 
“No.” 
Izuku turned to Katsuki with a pout. He rubbed his hand against the glass, clearing away the bit of fog that had collected on the pane. “What if the wolf can’t find him? What will I do then?” Izuku asked softly. Katsuki was quiet for a beat before dropping the clothes on the couch and joining Izuku at the window.
“If anyone can find your stupid ram, it’s that damn wolf. He’s got a sharp nose.” 
Izuku turned his face away, trying to discreetly rub tears from his eyes. “I just, I must have left the gate open. But he’s never taken off before, so why now?”
“Probably got sick of all your yammering,” Katsuki replied. 
“Kacchan! I’m being serious!” Izuku huffed. 
“So am I. I’ve seen you yap non-stop to the damn thing,” Katsuki countered. “You talk to it more than anyone else.”
“Yeah, well, nobody will listen to me half the time-” Izuku paused for a moment before glancing up at Katsuki. “I’m surprised you noticed.” 
Katsuki clicked his tongue. “I didn’t notice shit. You just wander around the village, mutter like a creep. Hard to miss,” he grumbled, but the heat in his ears betrayed him. Izuku was quiet, but Katsuki swore he could almost see a smile tug at his lips. 
They both were silent for a while, eyes glued to the window. Finally, Katsuki pushed Izuku towards the couch. "No use standing around. Get changed. I'll make some tea." 
Izuku wrung his fingers together before letting out a soft sigh. "Right," he said softly. Katsuki left him to his own devices, heading straight for the kitchen.
He could hear the shuffling of clothes and the occasional mutter. The heat in Katsuki's ears started to spread into his cheeks. He forced himself to keep his eyes forward, grabbing the kettle from the stove. 
They'd known each other since they were just little runts. Chasing the neighbor's chickens and reenacting the fabled tales of All Might. There was a brief while, when Katsuki's youthful pride as a warrior got to his head, and a rift tore between them. When the war came to their neck of the woods, they'd fought side by side. For someone who seemed small and frail, Izuku had more courage than most of the warriors in their town. The battles had been rough. Nobody came out unscathed. But ultimately, the end of the war brought them together. Katsuki swallowed his pride and managed to spit out his version of an apology. He didn't expect forgiveness. Not after how shitty he had been. But Izuku's heart was unbearably big and kind, and he'd forgiven Katsuki long before. 
Katsuki dared to take a peek, glancing over his shoulder. He watched as Izuku slipped into the spare shirt he'd given him. His crooked fingers sliding to smooth the shirt. It only emphasized how small he was compared to Katsuki. Katsuki quickly turned away, cheeks flushing even hotter. 'Nope. Nope. Nope.' Katsuki prepared two mugs with tea. He didn't deserve Izuku nor have the right to think of him that way. When the kettle started to scream, he poured them both a cup. 
"Kacchan! Did you hear that?" Izuku suddenly said. 
"Hear what?" He growled, turning with the two mugs in hand.
"I heard a howl!" Izuku was already at the window, face practically squished up against the glass. "Maybe the wolf found him!" He stammered, bolting for the door. 
“What the fuck, Deku! At least put your damn boots on!” Katsuki barked as the front door flew open. But Izuku was already gone, bounding out into the drifts of snow. Katsuki nearly dropped the mugs in a panic. He quickly abandoned them on the table before following suit.
Izuku paused for a moment, hands cupping his mouth, before letting out a return howl. As if that fucking wolf could understand him. But then suddenly, two shapes appeared along the tree line. Izuku broke into another run, screaming for his ram.
‘Imagine that.’ The wolf had found him. Izuku practically rolled the ram into the snow with his embrace. It gave out a weak bleat. “Where have you been!” He sobbed. “I was so worried-”
“Let up. He could be hurt! We should get him inside,” Katsuki grumbled, giving Izuku’s shirt a tug. Izuku pulled back. 
“He found him, Kacchan!” Izuku scrubbed off the tears from his cheeks.
“I can fuckin’ see that. You also ran out here without any shoes, idiot!” Katsuki snapped. He quickly picked up the shorter man, tossing him over his shoulder. “Unfuckinbelievable-”
Izuku let out a squeak. He kicked his legs for a moment before Katsuki’s gave him a rough jostle. “K-Kacchan!” He whimpered. Katsuki ignored him, whistling to the wolf and heading back to the cabin. He dumped Izuku in the cabin. 
"Stay by the fire and don't fucking move. I'll take care of your dumbass ram." 
"But-" Izuku started to argue. 
"No fucking buts!" He then ushered the ram into his barn. Katsuki didn't keep a lot of livestock anymore. But the ram fit right in next to the few goats he had. He looked it over, checking for injuries. "You're lucky, dumb shit," he mumbled. "I'd feed you to the wolf if Deku didn't care about you so damn much." The ram gave him a cheeky bleat. “Shuddup-” Katsuki growled quietly. Satisfied the ram was uninjured, he gave it a pat on the head before locking up the barn.
He trudged his way back into the cabin. As soon as the door was open, Izuku jumped on him, eyes wide. “How is he?” 
“He’s fine! You can check on him in the morning,” Katsuki griped. The wolf let out a soft bark. “Jesus. Everyone’s so fucking needy-” he then muttered under his breath, giving the wolf a scratch behind the ear before pulling out a small bit of jerky he’d kept in his pocket. The wolf ate it greedily.
Izuku got down, ruffling the wolf’s coat. “My hero,” he whispered with a wide grin. Face shining. Katsuki felt his heart skip a beat. 
“Don’t get too friendly. He bites.” 
“Maybe you. I think he likes me,” Izuku said, burying his face into the thick coat. The wolf started to wag his tail. He squirmed free, attacking Izuku with several vicious licks. The nerd let out a gleeful giggle.
“Traitor-” Katsuki growled with the click of his tongue. But the wolf felt no shame, nearly knocking Izuku over with his powerful frame. He continued his relentless attack of happy whines and kisses.
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Their tea had gone cold. By the time Katsuki reheated it, Izuku had moved over by the fire. The wolf kept him company, curling up at his side to act as a cushion for him to lean on. Izuku took the tea graciously. “Thank you, Kacchan! You really didn’t have to-”
“You better keep an eye on your feet. Damn things are probably going to blister,” Katsuki muttered, ears burning. He then grabbed one of the throws he kept over the back of the couch and tossed it at Izuku.
“Of course-” Izuku replied, carefully trying to maneuver the blanket around his shoulders without spilling his drink. A silence settled between them. Not quite comfortable, but bearable. It was moments like these that always made Katsuki feel on edge. Waiting for Izuku to finally speak. Would he finally chide Katsuki for his behavior all those years ago, even though he’d already spoken of forgiveness? Would Katsuki lose his nerve and say something irreversible? Make him cry, just like he did when they were children?
“How have you been lately?” Izuku suddenly asked. 
“Fine, I guess. Why?” Katsuki replied, finishing the rest of his tea with a gulp. 
“Just wondering. I haven’t seen you in a while. Not anyone, really.” Izuku’s eyes began to droop. His body slumped even further down into the wolf’s body. 
“Well, then why the hell did you move so far away in the first place?” Katsuki grumbled.
Izuku hummed, eyelashes fluttering. “I didn’t really want to. Money was tight before my mom passed away. So we sold our land and moved to a smaller place. I thought about moving back, but I was already settled in, so-” He paused for a moment, letting out a yawn. “I mean, I don’t know if I could afford to come back, even if I wanted.”
Katsuki stared down at his cup. “You got friends in town. Why don't you move in with one of them? Until you get on your feet again. There’s better work in town than out in the fuckin’ boonies where you live.”
Izuku chuckled softly. “It almost sounds like you want me to come back,” he said softly. 
“Fuck off. I don’t care what you do,” Katsuki growled. “Just a fucking option. Maybe you could buy some decent fucking shoes, then.”
Izuku’s laugh bled into a loud yawn. Eyelashes flickering as he tried to keep his eyes open. “Remember when we were kids and obsessed with that old book about All Might?” 
“I’m pretty sure you still are obsessed,” Katsuki retorted.
“I mean, yeah. I guess I am. They just gave me so much hope, you know? And that’s how we became friends. Pouring over it over this old yellowed pages in that dark and dusty bookstore-” Izuku paused for a moment. “I don’t think we were even technically allowed in there.”
"Ha! That old fart could barely see, let alone hear. If anything, we were doin’ him a service by keeping the riffraff out.” 
“Remember that one time you jumped from the second floor railing with a handful of firecrackers and scared Miss Kayama? I thought she was going to faint!”
“The hag whipped my ass for that one. Didn’t sit right for a week,” Katsuki muttered, though a smile tugged his lips a moment later. 
“I mean, you almost set the building on fire, so-”
“Whatever! Only a handful of books got a little burnt-" 
“I’ve always loved your adventurous attitude. Nothing ever scares you-” Izuku’s voice suddenly trailed off. Katsuki looked over, watching as the mug started to tip forward. He quickly grabbed it, carefully prying it from Izuku’s hands. The wolf let out a soft grumble. Katsuki stood, taking the mugs to the kitchen and setting them in his sink. When he returned, the wolf gave him another huff as Katsuki slipped his arms under Izuku. 
“Shut yer trap,” Katsuki hissed. He lifted Izuku up slowly. The guy was much heavier than he looked. Just solid muscle under all those layers. Izuku’s eyes fluttered for the briefest moment before he curled into Katsuki. Murmuring under his breath. Katsuki shook his head, biting back a smile. He laid him on the couch, making sure to tuck him in tightly. “Keep an eye on him, yeah?” Katsuki whispered. The wolf chuffed, getting up and moving to lay in front of the couch. Katsuki stood still for a moment. Watching the slow rise and fall of Izuku’s chest.
Finally, he turned away, no longer able to bear the ache in his chest.
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seiwas · 28 days
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cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry
bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.
there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.
but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.
your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.
the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.
he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?
heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—
he gulps.
it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—
(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)
the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).
it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.
he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.
bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.
you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.
"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.
as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.
as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.
as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.
his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.
you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.
“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.
your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.
he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.
but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.
he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.
there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.
your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.
then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.
he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.
five minutes, huh?
like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.
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"Give me back my hoodie and I'll give you back your panties." He said.
"Do you promise?" The both of you said with fingers crossed behind your backs.
Both of you at the same time ::: "YES."
You walk to your respective rooms. He sits on the edge of his bed with your pretty lacy panties wrapped around his dripping cock and you curl up with the hoodie that still smells deliciously like him, rubbing your favorite vibrator over your clit at the most painfully slow setting so you can make it last longer and envelop yourself in his smell.
Both of you at the same time ::: Saying each other's names, cumming across the hall from the person you're fanticizing about.
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@arlerts-angel @viburnt @darkstarlight82 @dreamcastgirl99
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lily-claw · 20 days
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Bnha x Gravity Falls Crossover
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I'm still not sure about which person should be which character but I'm %100 sure that Mina'd be Mabel Pines in another universe.
I'm gonna make another sketch for this au, I kinda like it. (Though Im still not sure who should be Soos. Maybe Kirishima?)
ALSO I'm actually not sure about if Katsuki should be Pacifica or Wendy🤔 if he is Wendy he will have an axe but if he will be Pacifica, then will be able to act mean🫠
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amie-bkdk · 2 years
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Around 3rd year when Katsuki is still pining and Izuku is still oblivious and Aizawa still needs a lot of breaks
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pjs-everyday · 9 months
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prototype 😬😬😬 (they all HATE each other lmao)
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cryiling · 2 months
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P for the fandom ask game! Your AUs are always so yum 🐀❤️
(ask game from here)
P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).
do u wanna hear abt my headcanon where bakugo has eczema 🤭 LMAOO yeah the constant exploding of sweat on his hands actually irritates the skin there so he gets rlly bad eczema, but it's pretty much just on his hands
the first time the itchiness flares up is when he's 7 years old. the skin on his middle finger splits so bad, it bleeds when he scratches at it. his mom jokes that it's because he flips ppl off so much before they realize it's just quirk-aggravated dry skin LOL
he gets prescribed a hand cream to mitigate the irritation (someone needs to get shigaraki that too istg) and he carries a tiny tube of it in his pocket wherever he goes. when deku finds out about bakugo's dry skin, he also gets a tube of the cream to carry around in case kacchan ever needs it :>
later as a ua student when bakugo is developing his cluster move, the eczema starts to spread as he uses explosion all throughout his body. his elbows and neck see the worst of it, but the sides of his calves also start to develop irritation. the itchiness is sooo bad, bakugo starts taking really hot showers to quell the itchy feeling
some days, it gets so bad it feels like his insides are itching and his sweat glands are burning. on those days, deku sits with him and helps him ice the irritated areas with some ice packs borrowed from recovery girl. bakugo has been getting better at acknowledging his weaknesses but he still doesn't tell a lot of people abt his eczema. he feels embarrassed about it, and sometimes even ashamed that he has the same skin condition as shigaraki. but deku has always been non-judgemental about it, and he always helps him get through his flare-ups
anyways MY eczema has been sooo bad lately i just needed to self-project onto bakugo LOL :>
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aheckinmess · 3 months
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Morosis [Bakugo] (Fluff)
(One-Shot 3/? in a collection of My Hero Academia Reader one-shots posted regularly once a month - sometimes more.)
Read on AO3.
Tags: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader, Katsuki Bakugo, Mina Ashido, Kirishima Eijiro, Toru Hagakure, Ochaco Uraraka, Asui Tsuyu, Momo Yaoyorozu, Class 1-A, Mostly Fluff with a Dash of Angst, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Katsuki Bakugo-centric, Katsuki Bakugo Swears a Lot, Pining Katsuki Bakugo, Katsuki Bakugo is a Dork, Reader-Insert, Reader Has a Quirk, Reader Goes to the Mall, With All of Class 1-A, It's Wholesome and Sweet, and Then There's Bakugo
Word Count: 967 words
Summary: While hanging out with Class 1-A at the mall, you and Bakugo end up standing beside each other, and he has a comment about a manga that you start arguing about with him.
Author's Note: I wrote this because someone on Quotev requested I write Bakugo x Reader, but it was inspired by this post on Tumblr. Hope you enjoy!
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Morosis: (n.) the stupidest of stupidities
When the girls from 1-A invite you to the mall with them, you don’t expect it to turn into such a big affair. Whispered words and presented plans travel around until the entirety of 1-A walks together through the large building.
This arrangement both thrills and bothers you. While it’s true that being with the whole class allows you to send unassuming glances in Bakugo’s direction, it is equally true that Bakugo is, well, an asshole.
But dammit if he isn’t your type.
“(Name), where do you want to go first?” Mina rambles, her head twisting this way and that, eyes glowing as she settles into her element. “Ooo! We should go to Sephora first! They’ve released some new brands that look like they might work with my complexion!” 
“Sure, we can hit up make-up first. I want to check out some video games and the bookstore at some point, though.” You beam.
“Oh, yes! I have a list of books I need to search for.” Momo agrees.
You take note that Ochaco and Tsu linger behind, so you slow your pace so that you’re in the back with them. It’s important to you to keep surveillance on the group as a whole, always keeping a watch out for danger. 
“Were you wanting to look for a specific game, ribbit?” Tsu asks, side-stepping a toddler squealing happily towards a photo booth. 
“I’ve been meaning to look and see if the sequel to Dazzling Designer has come out yet. I’ve got 300 hours logged on the first game, and I wasn’t disappointed when I saw the trailer for the sequel.” 
“My favorite is Amphibious Adventures.”
“That fits.” You laugh, picking up a lip tint tester and swatching the color on the inside of your wrist. You crinkle your nose and then set it aside. 
“I like more casual games, ribbit. They don’t stress me out as much.”
“I can understand that.” You continue searching for a shade to your liking. “Do you like dating simulators, then?”
“Some of them. Others just aren’t made well.” Tsu shrugs.
 You carry on like this for some time, everyone helping each other find what they want or engaging in idle chatter while you ponder where Bakugo might have gone with his posse. He gives me sports store vibes. The image of Bakugo in a plaid shirt and mountain climbing gear suddenly plagues your mind and you smile to yourself.
Well, you thought it was to yourself.
“Ooo, whatcha thinkin’ about?” You jump at the sound of Toru’s voice. “Oops! Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
“No, you’re fine.” You chuckle, tucking your hair behind your ear as you move on. “Did you find anything you liked, Toru?” 
“Nah. It’s hard to find much since I’m invisible.” As you start walking towards the door to wait on the others to finish up.
“Oh, yeah, that has to be frustrating.” You empathize.
You’re careful to keep control of your wandering thoughts afterwards, feeling successful since you dodged her question. But when you all start walking again, you can’t stop your eyes from searching for the Bakusquad. You think you catch sight of Kirishima’s red hair, but are promptly redirected when Momo gets giddy and guides the lot of you into the bookstore.
 The beautiful sight of colorful spines and the entrancing smell of leather bound pages calls to you like a siren song. Within seconds, everyone loses themselves to the luxury of lexicon around them, going in their own direction.
You head towards the manga first, hoping to find an affordable copy from your favorite series. You get distracted a few times with other titles that you’ve been interested in, but when you make it to your initial goal, Bakugo stands in front of the shelf.
You tense at first, but clear your throat and stand next to him, scouring the shelves for what you want. Even though he doesn’t say a word, you feel the heat of his presence beside you. Damn, if he wasn’t such an asshole, I’d ask him out. Since he’s minding his own business, you mind yours. However, when you reach for the book you want, Bakugo breaks the silence.
“Hmph. You read Music House?” He asks. Do his eyes soften?
“U-Uh, yeah.” You reply, shocked that he’s talking to you. Maybe he’s not as bad as he seems.
“Good manga, but I bet your favorite character is Hikaru, isn’t it?”
I take it all back. You frown at his comment.
“What’s wrong with Hikaru?”
 “Tch. Knew it.” Bakugo smirks, looking over the selection and grabbing a volume that’s several copies ahead of you in the series. “The only chicks that like Hikaru are the ones that don’t know a man when they see one.”
“Oh, yeah? Well who’s your favorite character, huh? I bet it’s Vesper!” 
“Duh, she’s a badass and not a weak extra like Hikaru!”
“But Vesper likes Hikaru…and Hikaru isn’t weak!” You growl out, stepping closer to him with a pointed finger on his chest. “In fact, he reminds me of you!”
“Me? That weak bastard reminds you of me? Are you calling me weak?!” He hisses, getting in your face.
“I told you, Hikaru’s not weak!” You ground out before shoving him one good time. “You’re not weak, Bakugo, you’re just oblivious. You wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid!”
  You don’t know why you said it, but when his hand grips your jaw and rough lips assault yours, you’re not complaining. Your eyes flutter and when you sway a bit when he pulls away, dazed as you look at him.
“Now who looks stupid?” He says with a cheeky grin and flushed cheeks.
And he leaves you dumbfounded in the aisle.
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ms0milk · 2 years
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𝟒 | 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐎𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞
ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader
"His glowing red eyes try to kill you, to set you on fire like his mother’s do and he must succeed– someone succeeds– because the campsite goes up in one searing blue pillar of flame."
cw wrestling bkg to safety for 4k words, and so so much protective worry. fire-related injuries, incredibly brief reader panic sequence (overthinking). reader does not get to enjoy her first time seeing the ocean. someone is trying very hard to kill you (and doing very well) 4.6k
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Bakugou doesn’t much care for carriage rides. He gets nauseous easily tucked away in those glorified jewelry boxes and would always rather be on horseback. It’s been that way since he was little. It's too stuffy and he needs the fresh air.
Where is he now? Is he riding?
It feels like he’s being carried to bed by his father after a late party. It feels like he’s dying.
The ground whizzes rough underneath the pair of you and at the rate you’re driving this horse, all three of you will be dead before you can even make it inside the city walls. The prince’s hands are clammy when they reach out for nothing. You’re gasping, retching and dripping with blood.
“Highness– please– please hold on to me!”
It’s your fists wrapped in the sprinting horse’s mane, not his, and he thinks that’s strange. Bakugou is slipping out of consciousness against your back and you’re trying to figure out how one man alone could cause so much destruction.
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The prince’s bloody hand tightens around your waist when he tries to pull back beside the campfire, but you hold him in place without moving. Does he know what’s coming? You level his sword to the danger ahead. 
“I know it’s you master,” the ghost sings from deep in the trees. His voice reverberates from every direction. Grass tips flicker with fire in a perimeter around the campsite. The chill of the naught-winter wind shivers through branches, bringing the voice closer and closer to the clearing like he’s lighter, faster than air.
A blue glow flickers between tree trunks and no one breathes when the apples beside you hiss, scream, and whither, and then bake into ash. Not a soul.
Kirishima looms across the clearing shielding his companions more successfully than you’re managing the prince, and Aizawa crouches in the carriage nearby with his bow drawn.
“How was Aldera?” That haunting voice hums again. The blue din is closer now.
The prince snaps, growling, and leaps out from behind you towards the treeline but you don’t need Shinsou’s bellowed warning to drop the sword and dive onto his back.
Another arrow whizzes under your arm as you tie your leg between Bakugou’s and use his momentum to smash you both, skidding, into the dirt. You land above him like this on your knees and it’s silent again. Shinsou and Sero watch back to back in horror as little fires dance through the trees in a circle around you.
You shouldn’t have let the caravan stop at the river today, you curse– you curse Aizawa– and curse the prince for the fight he’s putting up now trying to get you dislodged from his torso. Though, you wonder how he hasn’t gotten free yet, why he hasn’t turned you into a firework.
Furious shouts go up around you, but the prince, the only thing you need worry about is pressed to the ground between your thighs and his ashen hair clings to his forehead in a cold sweat. A sick sweat. His glowing red eyes try to kill you, to set you on fire like his mother’s do and he must succeed– someone succeeds– because the campsite goes up in one searing blue pillar of flame.
“Welcome home!”
Through the fire a slender black boot emerges over the treeline.
“Kids, run!”
In a flash Bakugou has the same idea as you and for a second ahead of the flames he’s no longer struggling in your grip. Shouts and the smell of burning hair scream to life around you and before the air becomes too hot to breath the prince tugs you into his chest, you grab the edge of his cape, and kick the campfire irons hard enough to roll the pair of you up in the thick red fabric amid the fire.
If you survive this night you won’t ever be able to return home and look your master in the eyes, let alone the queen. You’ll be stripped of your titles, your apprenticeship, your place in the castle, and you’ll deserve it. You’ll wander and no one will mourn you.
“Highness, up!” You shout into the tiny space between your bodies in this fireproof cocoon you’ve made; it isn’t just for show that Alderans are known as dragon tamers.
Your foreheads press together and the sweat slick makes it hard to move well. He’s cold. The fire outside whistles without much by way of kindling to stick to and you know you have to run before another wave erupts, “Up, now!”
Kirishima balances his friends in his arms and on his shoulders, and what parts of them he can’t cover are shielded by a viscous screen. Mina shouts your name from where she dangles around his neck when you throw the prince’s cape open, but she’s not fast enough to warn you. A man runs dark and lithe through the clearing in a zigzag that would be difficult to follow even if you were paying attention to more than the limp prince caged between your arms.
He isn’t rising with you, “Your Highness! Prince Bakugou!”
He groans, flushed, against the ground without any more wounds than the slice he got across his palm when he caught the arrow meant for you. He growls when you rip open his vested furs.
He must have been struck– his head? Is it a burn? You’re frantic on your knees beside him while you look from his twisted face to the blue hell around you and back down again, and try to picture your escape without ever stopping fully to process. Horses are screaming. The prince’s hissing melts into groans and he slips his elbow against the ground to sit up while you’re trying to locate a weapon– figure out why your halberd isn’t in its sheath on your back– try to locate the nobles and Aizawa and the Champion and–
You whip back around when Bakugou’s golden hand tugs at a piece of your hair, alight in blue flames and smothers it in his fist. He bares his teeth, “get…away.”
“Me or her?” The ghost whispers coolly from behind.
You gasp as his rough cheek brushes yours, and he muffles your snarl when you turn to strike him, with one horribly leathery hand. A hand that grips the edges of your face hard enough you think you’ll pop before you’re able to claw his fingers from the divots they’ve made of you.
He’s crouching now and his other hand comes up to pry your jaw open so you can’t bite off the two fingers that have found their way into your mouth.
Hats off to dying. Of all the things to fear in the world, closed spaces, big crowds, exams, introductions, the flu– dying like this is fear unimaginable. The man rots visibly in sections across his body, his face. He wears clothes like they’re gauze and steams from his horrible stitches. He also lets you go. 
More accurately, you are thrown from his grip before he can roast you alive when Master Aizawa flies through the man’s head with his knee. You’re knocked away rough against the ground from the impact. It’s so horrible you want to cry laughing at the fact Mina thought you might be a flame mage, that someone like you could wield magic like this, just three days ago.
“Y/n!” Aizawa seeths when he lands and charges immediately for a second attack against the mage before he can fully rebalance. There’s no new fire for now. He shouts over his shoulder to you, “Due east, Y/n! Get Bakugou to Takoba!”
Master Aizawa must sleep as much as he does to recover from fighting, because the man moves like a panther. Hair in his bloody eyes, bandages wrapped around his fists, he fights faster, strikes violently harder, than your eyes are able to keep track of. Two blows to the mage’s throat, one caught in a fist and the other landing just below a collarbone. Back handspring to dodge a knife and a flourish to ensure he lands facing his opponent. A sprint that turns into a double boot kick sending both him and his opponent crashing through the clearing.
In the second he gets from the distance, Master Aizawa pulls a canister from his belt and throws it into the air. With a hiss and a whistle, it bursts open and a single blue light screams straight up miles into the sky, into the stars, and out of sight leaving nothing but the bright glow above you.
“Get a horse!” He shouts again to you, dazed at the edge of the clearing, “The flare is an or–!” The scarred mage is up, noticeably free of fire, and charging the master. You’re pulling yourself together.
“It’s an order to open the city gates!”
In the center of the clearing, Bakugou wants to roar. If he could it would be loud enough to splinter the earth but something locks his sparks and his anger away. Kaminari cries out a little ways behind him, Sero and Kirishima are shouting instructions to each other, and no one seems to see him.
The prince, with great effort, rolls over. First onto his face and then with a white knuckled fist in the dirt, onto his forearms. With a trembling effort he pulls his legs underneath him and finally he swells up to a kneel. Something has lit every dry surface, every leaf, hair, scrap, and cloth, on fire. Blue fire. He would feel the peeling burns on his bare shoulders and back if he wasn’t so fucking cold.
To his right, Sero releases great lengths of ribbon into the trees whose canopies are lost to flame, “The fire will spread! Slow it down!” Kirishima tugs the ribbons hard enough to break trunks and to uproot dead saplings.
To his left, Kaminari is slouched against Mina’s chest in a singed tunic and blood smears stain their clothes in errant patterns. Shinsou’s close-by, freeing the last of the horses.
The carriage is a white wicker lantern, gone, gone, silver trim, chandeliers and all, up in smoke. Bakugou staggers to his feet when Shinsou lifts Kaminari’s limp body from Mina’s arms, but he doesn’t have a drop of strength left in him, let alone a spark, let alone a step or an arm to use to carry his injured friend out of the fire to safety. But you can.
You can do it. You finish shaking your brain straight after the impact and rip your horrible riding cloak off of your horrible tunic before the fire that’s eating it eats you up too. Aizawa’s a little ways ahead of you throwing punches and blocking kicks and keeping the flame mage from showering your group with any more fireballs, but he still let this happen and so did you, and you’re trembling with anger.
They’re safe with me. You snatch one of the mage’s arrows out of the ground from where it missed you and charge.
You have to get the prince out of here, you have to return to the queen in one piece so you can see her just one more time and then you’ll surrender to death, you promise the stars right now they can take you as long as you can go back home just one more time, I swear!
Not that you’re much of a bargaining chip now. It’ll just have to do. It has to be enough because the prince is stumbling blindly through flames ahead of you. From this distance he bends like a broken mirror in the heat waves and patches of fire crawl up his furs, barely upright.
You launch into the fight without your halberd or anything even resembling armor and land like a koala onto the flame mage’s back with only that little arrowhead in your fist to anchor you there.
When he shouts, you dig its point as deep into his shoulder as you can manage before the shaft snaps in your fist and you grab a fistfull of his hair to replace it. Aizawa balks when you kick off the mage’s back and send his head down with a yank as you fall to the ground in front of them. The second your feet tap the dirt you’re off.
You wish you had seen the mage take Aizawa down with him. So you could piece together the master’s magic before the mage crushed his head in the dirt to keep his eyes covered.
Bakugou is not going to stay upright for much longer. Without a destination he crumples back down to his knees. He wants to lay down and fly all at once but he’s simply slipping away backwards into the dirt. Before he falls flat into the flames you throw your legs out underneath you from a sprint and slide behind him to catch his body in your lap.
He’s drenched in a sickly sweat that reeks of burnt sugar and sour. His golden chest heaves with effort under your fingers. You cup his cheeks in your dirty hands. He looks angry unconscious and still there is no feeling like finally holding him safe in your arms. He could hate you all he wanted, fire you, banish you, execute you– no matter. He could burn holes through your armor with his ruby eyes and sear your skin with his magic, he could shout if he wanted to. He was permitted to strike you, challenge you, but you were not going to let the queen’s son die.
Mina’s voice is a surprise when she pushes your head down from behind and leaps out in front of you, “Duck!” She lands on her knees and waves her other arm in an arch between your bodies without a second to spare in blocking the incoming pillar of fire. A thick greengray wall spreads across the air like she’s painting it with a brush and flames burst to life around you, diverted by her shield. She whips her head back, “Are you okay?!”
These flames are weaker than before, and don’t singe you from proximity alone. You attempt to reply, but you are grappled first.
A rough hand snatches your waist from behind at the same time as the fires die down and Aizawa’s growls echo from the other side of the wall. The hand is Kirishima’s and he’s pulling you to your feet in the same fluid movement he makes to toss Bakugou over his shoulder.
He’s running, pulling you and speaking to you all at once over the sound of the burning forest, instructions maybe, leading you to a lone white horse at the edge of the trees. His pull on your wrist doesn’t keep you from reaching back for Mina, but she’s already running in another direction, towards Shinsou with a limp Kaminari in his arms in an all-dirt part of the clearing that can't lap up fire.
“Don’t stop!” She cries when she sees you, and disappears with her injured friend and the guard into another section of the forest past the clearing. You must be truly exhausted, because your feet aren’t on the ground anymore and you aren’t putting up a fight. Kirishima hoists you onto the horse’s bare back with more shouted instructions. Bakugou is tossed on next.
Kirishima does not look gentle anymore. With firelight illuminating his back, his cheeks are cracked. His hands are tearing and savage.
“Y/n!” He grabs your cheeks in one of those rough hands from below and keeps Bakugou upright on the horse with his other. He points to the sky and thrusts your face upward, and following his sharp finger you can trace the path of a blue flare going up in the distance between thick canopies.
“Takoba answered Aizawa’s call! The gates are open!”
On your other side, Sero uses Bakugou’s singed cape to tie the two of you together and wraps a length of his white ribbons around your chests for good measure.
“What about you?!”
“Only one horse, just go!” 
You don’t have the time to argue. With the prince in such a state on your shoulder you barely wait for Kirishima’s response before you’re digging your heels into the frantic white horse and wrapping your fists into her mane while she bolts, quickly far, far away through the trees towards her home.
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Castle on the sea doesn’t even begin to describe the scene ahead when your horse bursts out of the forest.
Your breath only comes in wheezes now. Your bones aren’t broken but you’re not processing enough thought to feel them if they were. The prince’s face between your hands in the clearing– that’s what you’re processing. You don’t know what’s wrong. You don’t know where his injury is. You wish you were the horse racing your prince to safety so that you could do more than just cling to him with all the strength in your body to keep him from falling into the sand.
You have to take hold of his hand when it reaches again limply past you towards nothing and you try as hard as you can to wrap it into the horse’s mane like touching anything other than you will remind him that he’s alive, and to please just hold on.
You remember the little blond boy, your same age, sneaking off to the library in the middle of the night by the light of a single candle. And you sneaking behind him to peek at his magic from behind the cracked library door. He used to hunch over a different book every night at the great wooden table, books so big he had to carry them with both hands, and blow the candle out once he read his fill. Like clockwork, the second your eyes grew became comfortable in the dark his little sparkles trickled into focus, springing up from his fingertips in pinks and purples.
Bruises that same color bloom atop his thigh now, the thigh nestled behind yours. If you had talked to that little boy maybe this wouldn’t be happening. Maybe he could have taught you magic before it was too late and he would trust you now to stand between him and danger. Bakugou groans against the back of your neck.
Takoba is not just a castle, it’s a city on the sea– on a hill– a mountain– a cliff. It’s a city your horse might not survive the climb to at the rate you’re driving it. Polished stone walls reach up over the buildings and homes inside effectively enough that the only thing you can see behind those protective walls is the white marble castle at the very top, craning up towards the stars in spires. There’s nothing at all behind the city– behind the castle– except for black water. 
You tug the prince's cape to keep him flush to your back against the waves of the horse’s gallop. It pulls his broad shoulders around yours and a mumbled curse drifts in his breath across your cheek. You’ve made a promise to every person you’ve spoken to in the past four days, and every single one has been to protect him.
There’s nothing but grass and sand between the edge of the forest and the beach, which means there’s nothing but distance between your horse and a Takoba hospital bed. A flash of red whips through the air in your periphery and if you looked back for a single second, you would watch smoke and the growing blue of fire in the forest not even a mile away. But you choose instead, to focus on the city gates coming into focus dead ahead.
Kirishima was right. In an arc at the center of the walls, the gates are open wide and lined with guards who are only dots in the distance now but become more and more detailed the closer your horse sprints to their post.
“Prince of Aldera!” You scream into the sea air to try and announce yourself before entering the city. The chain of guards in the gateway don't make a space for you to pass and so you call to them again. The prince’s full body shudders as you shout his title and when he tries to lift his head he only gets as far as your ear before his cheek is flat against your shoulder. You clutch a hand to his head to keep him close to you, “Aldera convoy! Clear the way!”
These guards don’t wear seafoam lace or shiny pearls. They don’t break formation and they raise their weapons straight ahead in warning. You think of Jeanist. You apologize to Jeanist.
“Y/n what would you say are the qualities of a diplomat?”
“Patient, sir.” Your voice was shaky because you were only seven years old when you had your first geography lesson.
“Anything else?”
This specific day you walked through the West Wing to pick peaches. So the sun shone warm over your cheeks and you were overconfident, sticky with juice. “Probably a little boring.”
Now you apologize to Jeanist again, for good measure. Because the closer you get to Takoba’s city gates, the more armed guards there are fortifying the line, shouting things that you can’t make out, and it’s obvious you are not cut out to be a diplomat.
“Aldera Royal Guard!” With one hand on the cape tying you together, you use the rest of your strength to lean deep and close to the thrusting neck of your horse and bring the prince forward with you. Through a mouth full of mane you bark, “Stand down!” and toy soldiers become fully grown not five-hundred feet uphill from you, two-hundred feet– fifty feet– and you apologize again to the queen, your companions, your master, this poor fucking horse– to the prince cradled in your hand you just say, stay.
With a final drive of your heels, the horse launches over the soldiers without slowing and clears the line with four echoing hooves crashed down on the cobblestone of the city square.
Only a few stray guards catch your last syllables, the white of a Takoba horse, and a glimpse of the prince’s blond hair shaggy against your back but it’s enough for a chorus of ‘don’t shoot!' to go up in their ranks. 
This horse is not going to stop until it reaches the edge of a cliff, so with one fist full of its mane and other full of the prince’s cape you drive through the sleepy square and up the main street to the castle sitting fat atop the hill.
Late-night straggling citizens drunkenly jump out of your war path into gutters and shopfaces. Horseshoes against cobblestone is a much better warning sound than you’d anticipated and you’d grin at your luck if Bakugou wasn’t very nearly flying to the ground from all your jerking ministrations. An arm wraps around your waist with a deep gasp in your ear as the prince clings to someone in a dream.
“Aldera Royalty! Stand clear!” Candles in the windows around you flicker on, “Clear the road!”
The royal castle is much more imposing up close, sprawling wide across the top of the city. A city, you realize now that you’re inside, so large you can’t actually see the walls farthest from you let alone the great black sea that extends forever in every direction behind it. All that matters is Takoba Royal Castle, dead ahead. Shelter for the prince and a new polearm for you to return to the forest to fight with.
Prince Bakugou’s forehead against your bare neck is so hot that the icy cold of his knuckles burns. He’s not muttering anymore, or gripping your tattered clothes as tight as he was just a second ago, so you call for a medic over and over before the castle gates come into view in the hopes that a doctor is waiting for you at the front doors.
You’re not even sure you could let go of him long enough for a doctor to take him now.
“Halt!”
You do not halt.
“Do not approach!”
You grind your thighs against warm white flank with every drop of strength in your body to prepare for the whiplash of this horse coming to a stop on the other side of the final obstacle between your prince and his hospital.
The castle gates are open like Aizawa’s flare instructed them to be and there’s nothing– sweet nothing– to destroy in order to get through. Your horse knows the way. She claps over cobblestones in a straight line to the entrance and bounds across the threshold of wrought iron.
The courtyard glistens white in the moonlight and the architecture on this side of the castle is delicate just like the blue fairy carriage. It is one great, smooth seashell with little windows for divots climbing all the way up to the spires. White balconies wind around outside to create footpaths in the free air and a grand rounded archway forms the frame for every door you can see. If you were closer you’d see too, the carvings on these archways and on every marble stone that builds the castle, depicting wars, births, deaths, and history.
But the second your horse slides to a jarring and terrible, screaming halt on the smooth marble driveway, a shock of arrows are released through the air over your heads and you remember again the might of a castle protecting its queen. You’re surprised by the numbness of your limbs when you try to raise your hands into the air. You feel as if you’re still moving in the sudden still. And shaking terribly. “My prince!” You can’t see where the arrows came from, or the bowmen and you don’t know where to direct your voice. Your horse trots and cries in place. The prince would be able to announce himself. His voice would carry like yours can’t.
“We have one hundred bowmen trained on your position, stranger. Dismount!”
You can’t, I can’t. You realize now just how much strength it took from your legs to keep your body and the prince's on horseback without a saddle. Your arms and hands too, tremble with fatigue. How do you tell them?
“Dismount!”
You have to explain yourself or keep Prince Bakugou safe from their archers. A girl in silver armor emerges from an illuminated archway to the right of the main doors and clicks her heels across the marble pavement. She is blunt, “Where did you get this horse?”
When she steps closer you can see her round cheeks clearly in the cold moonlight and the dark circles you must have caused her by throwing the city into high alert so late. You only need her to take Bakugou. You need a stretcher for the prince and a weapon to return to the forest with so your friends don’t fall to the flame mage alone.
“Aldera Guard,” you offer her, “please.”
When her eyes go wide with realization another soldier is already sprinting into the courtyard at full speed. He’s in a tunic, not armor and he shouts something as he approaches, but you can’t hear either of them very well now.
“Kacchan!”
The girl turns around and shouts something too, a sense of urgency lighting up her face when she registers the burns on your clothes. The prince tightens his hold around your stomach.
“Please,” you repeat and clutch his golden arm.
The next time you lean your head forward it’s because you’re slipping off of your horse, and when the armored guard races forward to catch you it only takes a touch because your body and prince’s begin to float just a little ways off the ground.
A surge of guards arrive on the scene upon hearing the calls for “medic!” and “fucking now!” and when the real flood of staff pours into the courtyard in all their soft nightclothes, it takes five of them to uncurl your fingers from the prince’s cape and it takes another three to unbunch the back of your blouse from his fist.
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beybuniki · 4 months
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Do they elope or are they real extra
elope, or rather it would be very unspectacular... very pragmatic like bro... YOU are divorced I never married and WE have known each other for 50 years.... it might be u after all bro....
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stardust-sprinkler · 1 year
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Jealous Baku x Deku x Reader
I’m currently obsessed with the idea of Bakugo and Deku both harboring a major crush on you while all three of you are at UA.
They’re each still working up the courage to tell you, when you suddenly confess your feelings for Bakugo—and you two start dating on the spot.
Fast forward past graduation, you three are all pro heroes now, and you’re still with Bakugo. Deku never says a word about it, silently resigned to just being friends… Sure, he pines a bit, but you’re all adults now and Bakugo seems to make you happy, so what else could he really ask for? …nothing, right?
The thing is, Bakugo knew that Deku had had a simultaneous crush on you in UA.
So, even now, he hates you being around Deku because the man is clearly carrying the MOTHER OF ALL TORCHES for you. But for the life of you, you can’t see that, which makes him even madder because he doesn’t want to tell you… In case you’ll change your mind. So, he gets severely bent out of shape if you pay attention to Izuku for (what he deems) any extended period of time. In turn, you’re frustrated that Bakugo won’t give you a straight reason why Deku is so off limits for friendship??
This is bound to boil over inevitably, right??
My asks are open, so hmu with some prompts for this, my brain won’t let this one go lol
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impur6 · 4 days
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Absolutely hate Sir Mix-a-Lot songs because of their sexist and objectifying lyrics. But the edits… OMG THE EDITSS.
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z-mizcellaneous-z · 2 years
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midoriya: ... bakugo: *gay panic* + bakugo: ... midoriya: *gay panic*
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inoxske · 3 months
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Kirishima: Sometimes fresh air smells like poop, but you just gotta sniff it anyways...
Bakugo: .....Huh...
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darlink-xoxo · 2 years
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OUR FAVORITE SONG!* ੈ♡‧₊˚
in which, you can't help glancing at your crush while listening to your favorite song
and i guess he cant either..
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GIF isnt mine
─ͥ─ͦ─ͮ─ͤ➼♥
new post lets gooooo <⁠(⁠ ̄⁠︶⁠ ̄⁠)⁠>
pt 2 is right here
this the song 👇 enjoy 🫶
Warnings: Fluff, Possible ooc bakugou, Little Swearing, Puppy love 🫶.... and also spelling mistakes
❥ · ゚₊ You were choosing to spend the free time you were given in class to study for the upcoming test, yes you were that bored. So with nothing else to do you succumb to the soft melody playing in your headphones, lightly bopping your head to the beat of the music.
'𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘶𝘶𝘮 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵.. 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘢, 𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵,'
you oh so desperately didnt want to fail, this was ua of course, and with a teacher like Aizawa.. well you didnt want to take any chances. you had both your textbook and notebook opened on your desk, as you read whatever in the next book, anything you found remotely useful you wrote down, and if nothing appealed to your studies, you simply distracted yourself by doodling little things on the sides of your paper.
so deep into your studying, you barely noticed the man on the other side of the room. Bakugou was slouched over his desk, his head laid over his folded arms as he appeared to be sleeping to pass the time.
'𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘵.. 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘦, 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 <3'
y/n mindlessly scribbled down their notes and/or doodles, time seemed to tick away slower than normal. lazily glancing back and forth between their notebook and textbook, y/n recited the lyrics in their head, now's not the time for karaoke..
'𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵..'
'maybe i just wanna be yours<3'
y/n took a double take once they realized they had written that last lyric instead of their textbook notes.
'𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,
𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,
𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,'
grumbling, they erased the lyrics from their paper, deciding to give both themselves and their hand a break from writing. choosing to read over their notes to make sure they didnt miswrite anything else.
'𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴..'
pausing, y/n finds their gaze leaving their notes. and instead, focusing on the blonde tuff of hair hidden behind a certain boy's arms
'𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴..<3'
y/n stared for a moment, taking the time to appreciate the scene in front of them. until ultimately regaining control of themselves. startled by their actions, y/n feverishly returns to their notes, hoping the subtle shake in their hand isnt as violent as their heartbeat.
'𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 '𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘤𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵.. 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵,'
bakugou shifted, the feeling of being watched settled through his skin. he slightly stretched for a moment, before slowly opening his eyes.
'𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯..(𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦)'
his gaze eventually landed on y/n, who finally got their heart to calm down. his half lidded narrow eyes hid the way he watched fondly as y/n glanced back and forth between their textbook and notebook.
he found it funny that y/n never really studied their notes until right before a test, 'last minute preparation' he recalls y/n calling it. he remembers how y/n fumbled to explain to him that glancing at their notes right before a test helps bring their notes to the front of their memory, therefore making it easier to remember.
'𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨..'
bakugou continued to watch them, his steel gaze never wavering even when y/n glanced at him.
y/n was taken aback for a moment, the feelings they barely had under control moments prior, were beginning to make their forceful return to the surface.
'𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵..'
bakugou stared in mild amusement as y/n awkwardly smiled at him, his gaze held strong and unnerving as his eyes trailed up and down on y/n's form.
'𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵..'
y/n felt their body unconsciously tuck in on itself when they noticed bakugou's eyes trailing down their form, watching their every move with a fire burning red beneath those eyes.
'𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴~'
bakugou almost found himself chuckling as he watched y/n practically crumble under his gaze, it's as if y/n didnt know their gaze held a similar effect on him as well. although with him, it's more internalized.
'𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,
𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,
𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴~'
y/n could feel their heart explode in their chest, did bakugou know the effect he had on them?? it doesnt help the fact that this could very much all be one sided, y/n felt even more embarrassed remembering that the music was playing in 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 ears.. not his
'𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴..'
bakugou watched in mild confusion as y/n suddenly buried their face in their hands, slowly peaking at him through their fingers before quickly going back into hiding.. did y/n really think covering their face would stop him from admiring them?
'𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴...'
y/n could only pray that bakugou would stop staring at them with that look any time soon.. how could they even try to calm their rapidly beating heart?? was he trying to give them a heart attack??!??
'𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴..'
bakugou continued to watch in slight amusement, silently laughing at how he probably would've had a similar reaction if roles were reversed. where he was the one who caught y/n staring, but then again.. he and y/n are very different.
for one, you'd never catch him hiding his face behind his hands.
'𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,'
y/n sucked up their nerves and took one final peak at bakugou from behind their hands, silently awing at the way the ends of his lips quirked up into a ghost of a smirk, a smile even.
quietly removing their hands from their face, y/n maintained eye contact to the best of their ability. even with the growing temperature change running up their neck.
'𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴.'
bakugou simply watched y/n's reactions to his gaze, posing as indifferent as he soaked up their attention for the short while. fuck.. why did they have to sit so far away from him??
'𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴<3'
y/n recalled accidentally writing out the last lyrics from before, internally burning at the fact they immediately thought of 𝗵𝗶𝗺 once they read the miswritten lyrics.
'𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴!'
bakugou saw how y/n quickly glanced at their notebook with thoughtful eyes, before looking back at him and seemingly melting in their seat.. oh how he wished he knew what they were thinking..
'𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘶𝘶𝘮 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘳..
(𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴~)'
y/n closed their eyes, trying with every fiber in their body to relax their racing heartbeat and thoughts. only to open them and need to start the process all over again as they realize bakugou has yet to look away from them
'𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵..
(𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴~)'
a sudden clap at the front of the classroom broke the two out of their trance. y/n slid off their headphones, letting them rest along their shoulders. all attention went to the front of the class where Aizawa stood, as soon as all eyes were on him he began what he had to say,
"the test has been postponed, something came up all of a sudden as principal nezu.."
y/n straight up put their headphones back on, not even bothering to listen to the rest. they stared down at their nearly completed notes, guess they'll just have to finish them when the test is a week away again.. casting a glance at the poorly erased lyrics from before, y/n felt their heart hammer in their chest once more.
'𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘢,
(𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴~)'
bakugou silently rolled his eyes with a 'tch', not even bothering to listen to the explanation. he lazily gazed at nothing in particular, yet he couldn't help in the sudden shift of his attention.
'𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵,
(𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴~)'
y/n was irked at the fact they could no longer listen to their favorite song without thinking about that hothead and the staring contest they shared just now. although, that's probably half their fault.. sighing, y/n dug into their pocket and pulled out their phone.
'𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,
(𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴~)
bakugou grumbled as he removed the single earbud he wore in his left ear, feeling around in his pocket as he pulled out the case and his phone
'𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴..
(𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴~...)'
both students simultaneously turned on their phones. both proceeded to check their notifications, clicking on something before turning off their respective devices and kept their attention in front of them.
although the two different students sat on different sides of the classroom, they still thought about each other without the other's knowledge. they both found themselves glancing at the other, and both had unknowingly felt the other's gaze.
both students were listening to music, somehow having the same song playing in their ears. they'd never tell a soul about how the song they were listening to was from a playlist they individually created.
y/n's was 'thinking about him<3'
bakugou's was 'only them'
hm..
maybe the two aren't so different after all..
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kayforpay · 9 months
Note
BKDK shower sex
Although over the years the dorms had gone from feeling strangely vast to crushingly small, the locker room at night still held that magic. Katsuki closed his eyes as he leaned against the door, breathing out sharply. The tile was cold against his feet, and the room was chilled; it was almost two in the morning, so that made sense.
He hated being awake this late, but he had woken up in a cold sweat anyway, and this was as close as he could get to running outside somewhere for space. The worst part of the dorms was constantly being around everyone. All his classmates. The teachers always nearby enough to check in. Like Katsuki needed anything but fucking space.
Just as Katsuki was tossing his clothes into his laundry basket, he heard the water turn on, and nearly jumped. Instead, he peered around the corner, and frowned. Izuku. Of course.
He didn't wanna kill Izuku anymore, sure, but that didn't mean he wanted to spend time with the bastard, either. Not that he had a choice. The sweat on his back was dry and tacky-feeling, and he wasn't about to ruin his fresh sheets with it.
Izuku yelped when Katsuki turned the water on at his end, and then laughed awkwardly. "Kacchan! You, uh, sorry. You were so quiet, you surprised me." He mumbled, hands folded over his chest like he was covering himself up.
"Am I supposed to announce myself to you, Izuku?" His voice didn't have any venom. Dreaming about his brushes with death tended to make him less concerned with arguing, after all. "Why aren't you asleep?"
While Katsuki leaned his forehead against the tile wall, Izuku huffed a sigh. "Am I supposed to justify my schedule to you? I just couldn't sleep, so I was doing some exercises in my room." The pout was so obvious in his voice, Katsuki almost laughed. A second passed in silence, and then Izuku spoke again. "It's just not like you to have trouble sleeping. You're never up this late."
Katsuki turned to face him, letting the hot water roll down his shoulders. "What do you know? I just don't usually come down here. You shouldn't be working out so much, either. I'll get out soon so you can jerk off or whatever, so stop acting so fucking weird." He rolled his shoulders, hissing at the tightness that never fully went away.
"K-Kacchan, I wasn't-- I wouldn't do something li-like that in the showers." Izuku spun, and slipped a little on the tiles, only just managing to catch himself on the wall. His face was bright red, and he seemed like he was trying desperately to avoid looking at Katsuki at all. "Just, just because you might have come down here for that doesn't mean I did!"
After a second, Katsuki's eyes slid down Izuku's chest, his stomach, and then stopped. "Wow. You're really getting worked up just because I said jerk off? Fucking nerd." He looked away from Izuku's half-hard dick, and then back.
"N-no! No, that isn't it, I wasn't--"
He didn't think when he moved forward, stepping into Izuku's space and his much cooler stream of water. He forced Izuku to back up, and caged him in with his arms. Black whip flicked little warnings around Izuku's shoulders, but didn't grab him. "What? You were thinking about me jacking off? Is that something you wanted to see, Izuku?" Katsuki's cheek brushed Izuku's when he leaned down, into his space. He felt like he was burning from how flushed he was.
"Th-that's not, that isn't it, Kacchan, I didn't think that." Izuku's voice was so low, Katsuki almost couldn't hear it. He slid a leg forward to press his thigh against Izuku's cock, and pretended not to feel himself reacting. "Kacchan-- Kacchan, don't joke-- don't joke around."
Katsuki swallowed, and put a hand on Izuku's hip. "Tell me to stop, De-- Izuku." He rubbed his thigh against Izuku's cock, and dug his fingers into Izuku's hip.
Izuku didn't say anything, didn't push Katsuki away. When Katsuki leaned down and wrapped his hands around the backs of his thighs, Izuku wrapped his arms around Katsuki's shoulders and let himself be lifted up. It was awkward, and the water wasn't as good of lubrication as porn had made it seem, but when Katsuki pressed Izuku's back to the wall and wrapped a hand around them both, it felt good.
He leaned his forehead on Izuku's shoulder, hips moving in short thrusts into his own fist, one of Izuku's hands curled into the hair just at the back of Katsuki's neck, but the other wrapped inexpertly around their dicks, and Katsuki swore he could feel Izuku's pulse in each ridge of scarred skin. In his ear, and just against it, Izuku was panting, barely cutting off little moans, his lips occasionally touching Katsuki's skin.
"Close your hand tighter." He huffed, letting his lips drag over Izuku's shoulder for just a second as he did. If he turned his head now, when Izuku was tucking himself into his neck so tightly Katsuki was sure he'd have a face-shaped bruise, he would probably end up kissing the green fucker. He turned his head away, rubbing his thumb over the heads of their cocks. "Don't get fucking lazy."
Izuku nodded, and Katsuki tried not to think about feeling his eyelashes against his neck, or the fact that Izuku's hand was cupping the back of his head. He focused on working himself up, which was embarrassingly easy, because Izuku's hand was different and it felt good, and not at all, he told himself, because Izuku's shampoo smelled like it always did and he sounded like he always did and he was there against him.
He came with a grunt, shoving Izuku harder into the wall, and turned his head again, to Izuku's shoulder. It only took a few more moments for Izuku to get off, and then they just stayed still for a few more minutes, gasping the damp air and, at least for Katsuki, trying not to let his legs go out from under himself.
At least now he would be able to sleep, he thought, letting Izuku down. They didn't look at each other, and when Katsuki was scrubbing himself with body wash, he acted like glancing over his shoulder at Izuku leaving was unrelated to anything else. He just needed to get to sleep, and not think about this too much.
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