WRINGING MY HANDS IN MY LAP

WRINGING MY HANDS IN MY LAP

AND YOU DONT KNOW IF YOU’LL MAKE IT BACK

I don’t appreciate uncertainty, growing up confident and sure of how my life was going to turn out. That I would become a doctor; or a nurse maybe.

I didn’t expect to fall into a committed relationship with someone I was so sure I wanted to marry at twenty four. I never wanted to date a hero; it’s common within hospitals. Finding a fling with a sexy injured hero. I didn’t except it to be for me.

Yet it was. I fell in love with him, “so you’re leaving?” I ask as he walks out of the shower. Just after dropping the bomb he would be leaving for a secret mission early the next week.

“No” he states, pouring himself a glass of wine and joining me at the stove, “I’m just going on a mission. I dunno when I’ll come back” he restates, but there’s a change. He changed his words.

“No. You said ‘I don’t know if I’ll come back’ Katsuki what does that mean? Are you going to die?” I ask, clicking the stove off and turning to face him, “let me rephrase it” I clarify, “do you think you’re going to die?”

He looks uncertain, damp hair brushes through his eyelashes, it makes me scared. The uncertainty on his face, the way his lips are turned down and sucked against his cheek, “I don’t know” he admits, “I wasn’t told much about it. Just that it was dangerous. But all of my away missions usually are”

I feel like throwing up, “they couldn’t have picked anyone else? Anyone?” I ask, “I don’t like this” I shake my head and take a sip out of my glass. I feel sick to my stomach, like whatever happens it’s not going to end well.

“I’m a hero, it comes with the job. If you can’t deal with that, maybe we shouldn’t” I know where this is going to end. I know he’s going to say we shouldn’t be together.

“No. I’ll.. I’ll be ok” I murmur, I find myself shutting down. Sitting and observing instead of listening. I’m not mad. Scared maybe, “what happens if you don’t come back?” I ask. My knees brought to my chest as I sit in my dining room, watching him pass me the plate of chicken

“I’ll come back” he says, “I promise”

“No. That doesn’t work for me” I tell him, picking at my dinner, “I need to know what happens. If you don’t come home. We’re not married” I explain, “you have no legal ties to me”

“You’re in my will. Im not stupid” he retorts, it’s like the thought never crossed my mind. But he’d never told me.

“But you never told me this, how am I supposed to know when you never told me ‘hey y/n. I put you in my will, hope that’s ok!’” I groan sitting up from the chair, “it’s like when you put me as your emergency contact without talking to me first”

It’s so frustrating when he does this, does something and doesn’t talk to me about his choice. Then gets upset when I become frustrated, it’s a never ending cycle of this, “I’m going to bed. I have to work tomorrow” I mumble grabbing my phone from the counter and walking to the only bedroom in my little apartment.

I feel when the bed dips, his arms instinctively move under and over me. Like a prolonged hug, I don’t want to move. I feel him plaster soft kisses against the nape of my neck, “I love you” I hear him whisper, “and I’m going to come back, and then I’m going to marry you” I listen, allowing the words to soothe me. Comfort me. Allowing myself to imagine me. In a white dress, with a ring on my finger. I want to picture it.

God I wanted it so bad.

It’s been a year, and each night it’s the same dream. Kirishima with a sorrowed look on his face as I walk out of the patients room to where I’ve been called. I knew it when I saw his face, closed eyes and a lip quivering underneath his teeth. My heart sinking into my stomach, “tell me it’s not what it is” I begged, holding onto his wrists as he guides me into an ‘on-call’ room. Sitting me in the chair and gently gripping into the plush of my thighs. Repeated apologies of how he couldn’t have saved him.

Except each time I keep waking up, just as he bows his head at my knees and tells me the love of my life. The only person I ever thought I could marry. Died. And somehow— he keeps thinking it’s his fault. Even if it wasn’t— and as much as I want to blame him. I can’t.

I’m heaving, wailing and crying once again. Four in the morning; crudely awoken from my sleep by the haunting memories. I shake as I pull myself out of bed. Trembling down the hall.

I hate this feeling, so empty even though I feel like I should’ve gotten over it. I should’ve grieved all I had to grieve. But I can’t.

I was stiff and uncomfortable at his funeral, picking at my skin and sitting in the back-row. His mother pleaded I sit with her. I wanted to, but I was just a girlfriend- a girlfriend he wanted to marry.

I knew he wouldn’t come home, deep in my heart I knew he wouldn’t return to my little apartment, no matter how badly I wanted him too.

My gf dog sinks so good 😊

I love him he’s so cute

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

Yippe!! Started this as a joke in hs when I had no clue what I was doing w my life and now I’m in college and becoming a doctor 😭

BAG

based on @cashmoneyyysstuff s hcs ab Katsuki taking ur bag

Shaking in my boots rn 😭😭

K. Bakugo

Class ends and I stay later than usual, jotting down the notes on how chemical reactions happen, “are you done yet?” He asks smacking his bag over my desk and I fear he’s going to hit me with it.

“Yeah yeah” I mumble shoving the notebook into my backpack but before I can grab it and throw it over my shoulder he snatches it from my grasp, “hey give it back!” I ask and he walks off and out of the class, leaving me following after him like a lost puppy, “give me my backpack, Katsuki!”

“No. Let’s go. You take fucking forever” he groans, it’s like hes trying to lose me in the hallways, twisting and turning in the hall, “can’t you walk any faster?!” He shouts, irritated at my slow pace.

“I’m going! Slow down!” I pant after him before he finally slows down as we exit the building and walk towards my street, “I can take my bag y’know?” I inform him, even if I’m sure he doesn’t care

“‘S fine” he replies, he falls in step with me as I click on my phone, “did you get your notes? All of them?” He checks and I nod.

“Come’ere” I request pulling out my earbuds, “I made a new playlist” I click it into my phone and press play. Music swells as he puts one of the buds into his ears and I put the other into mine. He leans slightly to accommodate our height difference, “tell me what” he shuts me up

“I’ll tell you if you shut up about it” he grumbles, my bag still slung over his shoulder. We walk like this in silence, hands brushing against each other before I make the move to clasp his in mine. I swing our interlocked arms as we walk, the music ends with strums of a guitar and I look up at him expectedly, “it was good, I mean wasn’t as horrible as it always is. Better. I’ll send you some of the stuff I’ve been listening too”

“M’kay!” I cheer excitedly, he does the thing where he rubs the skin between my thumb and I squeeze his hand a little tighter, “uh yeah. I got the notes. Before you stole my backpack!” I snap out sarcastically, no longer wasting my efforts in trying to grab my backpack back.

“Good,” he grunts out. We’re still holding hands when we reach my house, “here you are” his lips perk a little. And I drop his hand to open the gate, “I’ll see you later”

“Mmhm” I reach for my bag and he allows me to take it, “I’ll see you tomorrow” I grin and he nods at me.

“Yea.”

And somehow, after the months of dating and walk homes. I still giggle and blush as I walk in my house.

CHERRY WINE

Pro hero! K.Bakugo

Tw: mentions of drinking

She sits there, at the bar as music plays on. Texting on her phone and slowly swirling a glass of wine. She has this frown that seems to follow her as she shuts her phone off and stares at the game that’s happening.

He’d always found hockey boring, a gathering of men who enjoy shoving eachother and hitting sticks. Although, the same could be said for hero work. A gathering of testosterone filled boys who enjoy causing mass destruction. He stalks closer to her, sliding next to her at the bar, “can I take you dancing?” He asks, she looks over her shoulder. Shielding her drink, the rim covered in lipstick stains.

“Mm?” She hums a little, a sultry voice suddenly fills the space, “dancing? You?”

He nods, “yeah, com’on. You waitin for someone?” He asks. His voice is hoarse but a little softer than hers. His blonde hair stumbles in front of his eyes and she makes the move to push it out of his eyes.

She hums again, “I was… but you’re here now” she shrugs a little, downing the rest of her cherry red drink; a small smile perks from her lips and she grasps his hand and locks her fingers with his, “are you married?” She asks, curiosity spikes her voice as she thumbs the silver band.

He gruffly exhales, “divorcing” he lets go of her hand, exhaling as he slips the ring off. Leaving it next to the empty wine glass and 20$.

“Ah” she murmurs, “how old are you again?” She squints her eyes a little to get a look at him. Some fine lines and stress marks. A handful of rough scars divide his features.

“Thirty seven.. you?” He asks. Not too worried he’s been hitting on a minor but as a public figure he should’ve checked first.

A soft grin crosses her face, “twenty three” his eyes widen at the age gap but there’s something so alluring to her. Deep curly hair that falls across her shoulders. Soft eyes that look into his own, “nothin illegal about dancing right?”

A soft smile quirks his lips and he encompasses her hips with his hands, “do you come with a name?” She asks as they sway together on the dance floor

“Mm.. you might’ve heard of me” he whispers into her ear. They’re so close he can feel her chest vibrate. This mystery woman is laughing in his arms. Head thrown back and blouse slumping down her figure, partially unbuttoned and untucked from her jeans.

“Really?” She scoffs, looking back up at him, “what are you? My boss?”

“Mm.. they call me Dynamight” he whispers again, her cheek is pressed against his and he can feel the smile lining her cheeks

“Mm.. Bakugo Katsuki” he hears, “I’ve seen some things about you” she whispers back, “lets lose tonight.. just” theres a heavy sigh she emits as she spins in his arms. In their world, it’s just the two of them. The world ending couldn’t disturb them.

He slowly pulls away from her, hands still on her hips, “how about..” he murmurs, allowing her to lean into him. Allowing her eyes to flick from his lips to his eyes, “I buy you a drink.” He offers

Her eyebrow quirks, “I’d like that very much.. Mr. Dynamight”

GODDESS

Pro hero! K. Bakugo

I ❤️ laufey

It happens each time, but I fall for it each time. That he truly loves me, love through the soft glances, lingering touches and sleepless nights intertwined. His hands brushing through my hair as my chest presses against his. His stubble scratches against the bareness of my neck. A soft groan emits itself from him, “do you have to leave so soon?” I ask, I hear him huff as we split apart.

“Yeah. It’s the job” I hear him groan as he stands. He’s covered in scars. Some small some large, but there’s one; a large jagged edge that goes from the base of his ribs to his pelvis. It spreads and shrinks as he moves. Walking himself to my bathroom as I slowly check my phone before I get up and walk to my fridge. I find a shirt, lazily thrown on the ground. It’s mine, the pink silk button up. I button it up and open my fridge.

I leave for work before I see him again.

It happens more often than I like, that post concert haze. Silky dress and hair curled to perfection, it’s true that I look like something out of this world. That I look like a goddess in that light, I’m not surprised he took me home, nor am I that he left. When he saw the frizzy hair and tired eyes.

I go to the studio as I always do, guilty as always. Guilty of everything, of how my friends hair was ruined by the wind, but most of all I feel guilty of him. How I treated him, how that night was supposed to end. How maybe I did deceive him, how I’m not the beautiful creature he thinks I am. Surrounded by lights and violins, chellos and wind instruments. When the sun rises I am human again, with puffy cheeks and crazy hair.

I went from Goddess to Human in a night. I’ve risen, jumping to the light. Grasping at the sun, and somehow. In my naivety I grasped onto him. I let him in only for him to bring me down again. My anger fueled by his own, I let him shoot me down. Like a shooting star, somehow; I found myself letting him drain the life out of me.

I found myself waiting for his text, as I sit on the couch; every notification could be been his. Slowly sucking the soul out of me, out of my passion and my work. Waiting every minute for him, just a simple night out and I’m perfecting my makeup to be his goddess, to be the perfect one for him. The one the media doesn’t criticize; the one who’s past relationships get leaked over the media.

But now his number is blocked, and I finally let him go. I’m a goddess on stage but I’m not his. And in the confines of my home, the plant littered, messy apartment I’ve called my own, I’m no goddess. I may be one on stage. But alone.. alone. Im no goddess.