What I Said When The Sun Set

What I Said When The Sun Set

Fandom: Bnha, Mha

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Rating: E

Words: .6k85

Warnings: Angst, Breakup

A/n: He might not be with her, but he’s always in her heart- aka - Y/n still loves him, even after he left.

 “He’s an idiot. He can't be– Sho's the smartest guy I know."

Y/n sat on the pier of the silent beach, leaning back on her hands as she stared at the yellow sky which glowed onto her skin. 

A sigh passed her lips, "You're right, maybe he's just stupid."

Her eyes were shut as the smile danced on her lips, swaying with her memories. “He used to say the best was yet to come. All the time, whether something bad or good happened he’d take my hand and lock eyes with me. In the softest voice he’d whisper the best is yet to come, and I never really knew if it was a promise or a threat.”

The wind blew through her toes, making Y/n sigh with a degree of content she hadn’t felt in a while.

The sky had turned pink while she laid there, and she started laughing. Her cheeks were sore and her eyes watered from the smile. Y/n turned hysterical, her stomach shaking with every semi-melodic burst of humor. And then, she just didn’t feel like laughing anymore.

“Do you think...” she paused, thoughts about her life passing through her brain. He’d left so suddenly, with no warning he just decided she wasn’t enough. She thinks about her flower shop, the one she runs by herself in a nice part of town. She thinks about the smiles people send her way as she walks down the street and her small apartment that has everything she needs. “Do you think he’d be happy for me?”

Then she thinks of that night. Remembers the tears on his face and the shifting of his attitude. How he swayed between burning with anger and cool indifference. She remembered what he told her, that he needed more- needed something different. 

Her lips pulled to the side of her face- “I can understand that. But-” she breathed out, “Why did I need to go?”

The sky shifted colors to answer her, the pink turning to a purple gradient. The water sparkled in tribute to her tears, letting her know she wasn’t alone. Even in the depths of the sea there can always be company found in misery.

“Is he happy now?” 

She’d seen him on the news- fighting along side some of the other heroes she’d met while they were dating. Y/n was proud, of course, to see him being successful. She just hated that she hadn’t been there to see him through it. 

That’s the point, she had to remind herself, he couldn’t succeed with you ruining it for him. 

For a second she considered putting her hand in the water, in hopes it would feel like him. She didn’t- just thought about it. 

Her empty gaze looked out to the sky, as the darkness began to swallow the glowing light. Her eyes stung. “I love you.”

Her throat felt stuck, like everything she couldn’t say since he left had waited for this moment. “I miss you.” 

“Please come back,”

“I’m sorry,”

“I’ll do better,”

“Don’t leave me,”

“Please just,”

“Please don’t go.”

“I can’t do this without you.”

“I need you here with me,”

“What happened?”

“I’m so sorry,”

“I need you,”

“I thought you loved me,”

“I love you.”

The sun was a capricious god. It held her hand during the day but did nothing to curb the agony she fell into. The sun was hateful and loving- a pillar of everything she can do and everything she failed at. 

The moon is consistent. Always listening but never taking action. She offers no solace, no comfort. She just comes and listens, watches, and leaves. Maybe that’s why the darkness made her feel better. She had no expectation from the black sky, no thoughts that she’d be happier when it came. So she cried and cried until her throat was sore and eyes turned bloodshot. 

Then, when there were no traces of the sun in the sky, Y/n picked herself up from the pieces she fell into. Gathering her pride and stitching the shreds of her dignity back together, she walked away from the pier to go home. Each step reminded her that she was still alive, taking her further away from the past. With each step she moved forward, trying to forget what she said when the sun set.

“I am clumsy in my own limbs. My knees buckle and ankles give out; I watch my fingers spasm and release what was held once so confidently in my grasp. I realize no one passes me the infants. I look at my shaking fingers and pulsing legs and realize my body was not made for this. In knowing this comes the knowledge that neither is my mind. I wonder how I got here, anyway, in a room of people whose eyes avoid my figure, whose conversations don’t extend to me. I look at the only other person who seems as out of focus as I am. I wonder what it’s like to hold a baby. I remember what it was like before; or at least I try. The problem is that is feels like i’ve always been forgetting to take my pills, always wearing braces on my body always looking confused into a world not built for me. I remember when I trusted the bones that house me; before they, too, creaked and caved and exposed me to the world when they crumbled. I try to remember my sport, my strength. I don’t have to try to remember the look in my PT’s face when I, again, took a first step. A wave of nausea comes over me and I dismiss myself. I make my apologies and excuses, my promise of next time and I take my exit. I glance back when i’m out of the room and watch their shoulders fall. I go to my bed.”

-What The Cold Does Aik.

"I crawl into bed only for once I am not alone. There is someone between these sheets with me- bare and beautiful but entirely unknown. This bed had only ever known myself and my friends, a pet or two, and a soft sort of sleepover. I crawl into it with someone else on the other side and it is entirely foreign to me, but at the very least it is still my bed; I don't know if I could see someones history so brazenly and still embrace all that I did not know. I wonder what the college experience meant to everyone else, and if they too have felt soiled by this thing we had too long idolized. I hope they have not, and it's all they've ever dreamed. Sleep has never been so cold."

-Pillow Talk Aik.

Hi I love your writing! Can I request one where Tokoyami )or anyone you'd like really,) finds a collection of old-ish diaries and letters while cleaning? The person's handwriting is very distinct and pretty (Think 1700's love letter find) but they never mention their name. As they read more of it they find newer entries where Aizawa is mentioned so they ask him about it only to find out the person who wrote them died almost 100 years ago and 'haunts' the school. (Sorry for long request)

I’m in the terrible habit of posting the fic but not answering the request ughh-- I hope you enjoyed it! It’s a one-shot as of now, but since the ending was pretty open I’d be willing to right a part two if I ever think of how it should go! Thank you for this request, it was so nice to write and I love the idea! I just hope I did it justice

Misery’s Tango

Fandom: Bnha / Mha Paring:  B. Katsuki x Reader Rating: 14+ Words: 1k28 Warning: Swearing, Alcohol, reference to sex, a little spicy dancing, mentions of bruises/ implied manhandling A/n: A short drabble for two lovers meeting again, dealing with the love they ended and can never get back

Dorris Day was officially getting old. The second her song started the ballroom was filled with partners gazing into each others eyes with a sickening form of endearment. It made her want to puke.

The Hero’s Gala was an annual event that served to honor the brave protectors of Japan and thank them for their hard work, presenting awards and opportunities. Y/n used to love going- getting dolled up to dance her feet raw with a prince charming she’d never meet again. She adored it really, every second was a dream to her.

Now, though, she felt cold. Her beautiful designer dress had been the talk of the night, the well-placed slit and plunging neckline had shaped her as a goddess, but it did nothing to protect her from the chill of the air. 

She swirled her red wine around her glass and tried to think of how many she could drink to heat her up but stay presentably sober. The sudden drop of a suit deep grey jacket around her shoulders jolted her back to awareness, and her face softened at the new company. 

Awkwardly standing next to her but not meeting her eyes, Bakugou scowled. “You’re such a dumbass. It’s the middle of winter and you didn’t bring a fucking jacket.”

She smiled softly and purely at the flush dancing along his cheekbones, “It’s been a long time, Katsuki.”

He hid the sudden hiss he released upon hearing his first name from her crimson lips, pretending not to melt at the way they shaped around the symboles. “Y/n.” Bakugou was breathless, whispering her name like a prayer to the goddess of life, begging for a moment longer to keep the atmosphere as elegant and familiar as it was.

“You look good.”

Her smile struck him in the soul, and he tried not to cry as she repositioned her body to face towards him- a habit she’d picked up when they were dating. It made him feel so important, like he was her sun. 

“So do you.”

Y/n fought to keep the pleasant upturn of her lips, but his strained voice was enough to make her cry. Still, he did look good. He’d cut his hair- shaved the sides while the top was fluffed back. He looked more than good, he looked heavenly. 

She blinked openly at the upward placed hand in front of her, blinking at Katsuki. She waited until he spoke- “Let’s dance?”

Say yes he wanted to cry. Dance with me, let me hold you- let me pretend for just a little longer.  He was sure he only needed one more second, one more night for it to be okay. Just one more hit of her addictive smile, her haze of affection, the high off her lips- just one more time and he’d quit for good. 

A bigger smile pulled on her lips and Bakugou suddenly couldn’t breathe- “I’d love to.” 

The sudden upturn of music didn’t go unnoticed- as their song started to play. Sway had been the first song they danced to together. A college party they were both a little too friendly at. 

Taking her place in front of him with her back turned- her breath hitched as one of his hands settled on her waist. The trumpets sounded off as they began moving- her hands drifting from his neck to his hair, trying to distract herself from his touch. 

Stepping in line with one another, Bakugou tried not to cry as her nails scrapped dully at the nape of his neck. The music worked up to signal the dip Y/n swooped into- clenching her eyes shut to stop herself from reacting to the hot breath against her neck. 

Pulling her up, Y/n twisted into a spin remaining connected only to his fingers. Tugging gently, he guided her back against him as they waltz across the dance floor. 

His eyes were blown with desire, his hands moving against the jacket he draped around her- regretting putting that layer between his hands and Y/n’s skin. 

I’m going to die here. Y/n’s eyes were glazed over as she fought to control her breathing, failing pathetically. He entangled his fingers into her hair as he swooped her backwards- a reminder of how flexible she was. 

Relying purely on muscle memory, Bakugou was taking in every moment he could- not wasting a single second. The music filled the air- the eyes surrounding them were unnoticed as the pair moved together. 

When Y/n’s leg wrapped around his a deep and craving moan came from his throat. He lifted her up across his chest as the dance called for, moving his hand a little higher than necessary- completely worth it for the whimper he received in return.

Each step was a moment closer together- each twirl an act of devotion. Like the sun and moon they circled each other. Like Hades and Persephone they doted on their affection, only to be separated at a moment’s notice. Like Icarus, Bakugou moved closer to his light. Like Catherine, Y/n felt her soul once again join with its identity. 

But the sun melted his wings, and Heathcliff was left without her. The song ended with them against each other- panting and delirious. Their eyes were locked and, just for a second, Katuski leaned down for a kiss. 

“Bakubro.” Eijiro’s voice called out rapidly approaching the frozen pair. Was that disappointment in her eyes? He wondered.

“Y/n/n!” Momo smiled pleasantly, wrapping her arm around Y/n’s. 

They were ripped apart by their worried friends, and, while they both knew it was for the best, they couldn’t help but look over their shoulders.

Could we have worked out? Y/n would think during her hot bath when the night was over- her hair in a bun and feet kicked up against the rim, a familiar crimson wine in her hand. 

What did we give up? Not even Kirishima could pull Bakugou from his thoughts that night, as he drowned himself in ‘what if’s’ and ‘could have been’s.’

Their love was fated for tragedy- romance painted from bruised skin and regret-soaked pillows. A tragedy, Y/n mused as she settled into her plush comforter, how melodramatic.

You probably get this alot ! But I'm new around here and I wanted to say THANKYOU for writing ! I binged through all your stuff and it reminded me why I got the app in the first place 💖

I've honestly been feeling really bad about the works I've posted and the low quality of them, so writing more for Tumblr has become really hard and draining for me. Thank you for reminding me why I started writing and why I love it so much <3