In The Years Bakugou Katsukis Friends Have Known Him, They Have Learned That Despite His Loud And Brash

in the years bakugou katsuki’s friends have known him, they have learned that despite his loud and brash personality, he was a notoriously private person. he seldom posted on social media, rarely did interviews or showed up on talk shows. the media still ate him up, his evasiveness about his life outside of hero work only leaving people wondering just what he was hiding.

“are you sure this is the place, denks?”

he kept his private life hidden so well under wraps that he didn’t even tell his bestest friends in the whole wide world that he’d moved apartments. they’d found out by accident.

kaminari checks his phone again. “yeah! this place is on shinsou’s patrol route. i don’t think bakugou knows, but shin and i have seen him walk in here three times this week!”

simply entering a building on its own wouldn’t be enough to rouse suspicion. the first time, shinsou had reported that he’d seen bakugou wearing his uniform trailing behind a woman in a suit - someone from legal or pr, he assumed - and kaminari had thought it was for a witness interview and brushed it off.

the second time had been a little more unusual. it’d been bakugou on his own, dressed casually with his cap tipped low and his backpack slung over his shoulder. kaminari hadn’t had much time to think about that one because he’d been helping an old lady cross the street, so he’d just assumed he was visiting a friend or something.

the third time had been downright suspicious, because he’d seen bakugou dressed casually and carrying two bags of groceries in his arms. this occurrence had been downright suspicious, and had prompted kaminari to make a groupchat to share his findings.

kirishima glances around the busy street, humming. though it’s one of the wealthier districts in musutafu, the street is quiet, sleepy, dotted with small shops and street vendors. the closest agency is three blocks away, and it isn’t even bakugou’s. “it’s kinda far from our agency, don’t you think? it’s way off our patrol area, and his job is basically his life. why would he live here?”

“that’s what we’re here to find out,” kaminari shrugs, pocketing his phone. there’s a doorman stationed outside the building, sending the pair a polite grin as he holds the door open. “swanky place though, don’t you think? maybe i should get myself a nike deal too! then i can finally get out of shin’s place.”

___

katsuki’s just gotten out of the shower, stirring idly at the pot on the stove when he hears a knock at his front door. he flicks the heat down a notch before heading for the door to peek through the peephole.

that’s when pro-hero dynamight, number two on the hero billboards, and a role model for children everywhere, leans back and mutters, “fuck.”

another knock, a little more insistent this time. “hey, bakugou? you home? denks, if this isn’t his place this is gonna be real awkward.”

“fuck. fuck,” he glances over his shoulder at the bedroom, then back at the door. this wasn’t how everyone was supposed to find out. especially not ei and denki of all people, whose mouths were bigger than their combined iq.

he lets the analytic hero side of his brain assesses the situation first. the obvious answer is that he could just…not open the door. it’s a good, quick solution in the short term, but will still come back to bite him in the ass later. when it comes to his personal life, no wall (or door, in this case) could withstand the nosiness of his friends.

his other option was to, well, open the door. just a crack, of course. feeding the vultures a half-truth would placate them for the time being, so he could retreat and come back with a better plan.

“hey! bakugou!” kaminari cheers when he begrudgingly opens the door. “so you do live here!”

“last time i checked, yeah,” he huffs, staying planted firmly in the doorway. he treats this like he would any interview, shutting down any unwanted questions with blunt, half-answers. it’s usually enough to deter most reporters, but his friends have learned to shrug off his hostility simply because they lack any self-preservation skills.

“can we come in?” kirishima asks hopefully. “we wanna see your new place!”

“no.”

he rolls his eyes at their identical pouts. “why not?”

“because i can’t trust you both near things that can stain.” he gestures to the hall. “now can you please get out of here so i don’t burn dinner?”

“ugh, fine,” kaminari relents with a louder than necessary groan, which katsuki immediately finds suspicious, especially when the blond places a hand on his shoulder. “i gotta admit, this is a nice place, man, you did good. i’m proud of you.”

katsuki feels it a second too late– the light tingling that often precedes–

he curses through clenched teeth as kaminari shocks him with a voltage just shy of a taser, body folding as it fights the current. his so-called friends take the opportunity to push past him and into his living room.

“awe, look!” that electric dipshit coos, picking up a picture frame. “It’s a picture of all of us at graduation!”

“and look at this one! this one is of him and–” kirishima’s expression shifts into genuine surprise. “this is the head of our legal department…and you’re kissing her! on the mouth!”

of course it’s then that the bedroom door opens, three heads turning to see you walking out, toweling off your wet hair. “katsuki?”

the pro, still crumpled in the doorway, looks away as his friends do a double take, then fix him with wide eyed stares.

“katsuki!” you gasp, rushing to his side. “oh my god, are you okay?”

“‘m fine,” he coughs, letting you help him to his feet. “aside from the two ass clowns in our living room.”

“hey!”

“oh, ignore him,” you simper, pressing yourself into his side. “he loves you guys, but right now…i think he’d prefer to love you from afar. at least until our housewarming party!”

“housewarming party?!”

RED LIGHTS

synopsis: everything looks prettier under red lights, especially your boyfriend. you decide to tell him, and he decides that you’re it for him — all he’s ever wanted.

notes: reader wears lipstick, fluff w some suggestive sprinkled in, inspired by red lights by RINI. warning: too much physical touch as always.

wc: >1.0k

“why do you keep looking at me?” suna peers at you with his celadon eyes, his rings tap against the wheel as he bounces his fingers against the leather.

he's cautious with his words, and maybe a bit curious, too.

“what, i can’t look at my boyfriend?” you look over at him again, probably for the fifth time since you left your apartment parking lot just seven minutes ago.

“is there something on my face?” he quickly runs his hand over his face, peeking at the rare view mirror. and to his surprise, no crumbs. did you maybe leave a lipstick mark when you kissed him before leaving? (komori, to suna’s dismay, has pointed out a mark or two on his cheek as he walked into the gym for morning practices. he always wipes it off with a mumble, but takes a peek in the mirror beforehand to admire your bold proclamation of love).

“you’re just really pretty.”

“oh shut the fuck up," he laughs, and it fills the car, harmonizing with the music from the radio. it brings a smile to your face. it's dark, but you can see that his tongue is poking at his cheek, holding back an equally cheesy smile.

“i’m serious!” you face him again. "your hair looks good today, and you're all clean-shaven." you run the back of your hand against his cheek, humming in satisfaction to emphasize how soft his skin is. "i gotta appreciate this when i can."

he continues to drive, but snakes his hand onto your leg. his rings are cool against you. he squeezes once, then twice. and once again, you're at a red light — it highlights his face beautifully. the rise of his cheekbones accentuate the darkness of his eyelashes, eyebrows, and hair.

and you decide to go for it, reaching across the console to leave a quick kiss on his jaw.

"woah, can't get enough of me today," he taps your thigh a few times. "and i didn't even have to wear that cologne you like."

“mhm. i love you even when you smell like shit.”

he clicks his tongue and takes his hand back, letting you pull at it to place it back on your thigh (he never fights back, knowing you'll only reach for it again and again). you put your hand on top of his, rubbing your thumb along his skin.

“if you’re trying to tell me something, i don’t think you wanna do anything risky while we’re on the way to dinner with my parents.” suna peers down at his hand on your thigh and your hand that's keeping it captive there.

“i’m not trying to do anything, rin.”

“whatever you say,” he moves his hand back and forth. it's a comforting motion, really, but for some reason, you feel nervousness stir in your stomach. or perhaps, butterflies.

“i’m not! i’m just really excited to see your family again,” you rub your finger along the ring on his pointer finger.

“i think they love you more than they love me.”

“probably.”

“oh, should i tell them how you tried to make a move on their sweet and innocent son just 10 minutes before seeing them?”

“where’d you get 'sweet and innocent' from? weren’t you the one who wanted to ‘head to the back’ after atsumu’s party?”

and now, he's fully smiling. you hear an airy laugh escape from him. you love this rin — the one that laughs at his past, corny self. the one that lets you know he's listening even when his eyes are on the road. the one that is so unabashedly in love with you that he could never deny anything you want from him.

“you were the one who kept looking at me with those… eyes.”

“i wasn’t! you’re just so full of yourself that you think me looking at you is the same as checking you out.”

as the song transitions into the next, there's a pause, and the car is enveloped in silence.

he breaks it.

“so, what’s it like when you’re checking me out?”

“i’m not doing this.”

“no, baby, i just wanna see. check me out." this time, at the light, he faces you. has he always looked at you like this? with his lips slightly quirked upwards? a teasing smile — expectant and knowing.

you look him straight in his eyes and then to his lips before looking back at his eyes. your eyes follow his features naturally — his eyes show that he's calm, but his smile shows that he's in awe of what you do to him.

you can't help but to laugh at his reddening ears. you reach for the cartilage and coo at him for getting all flustered. if there's something the both of you are good at, it's flustering each other endlessly, even two and a half years into the relationship.

“damn, you’re good,” he takes your hand away from his ear and kisses the back of it before trailing a few up your wrist and arm all while keeping his eyes on the road.

moments like this with suna aren't hard to come by — he's always done his best to make you feel loved (and to annoy you to the point where you question his meaning of love). and all you can hope for, really, is that it'll stay like this forever — that even when you're older and greying, he'll ask you to give him "those eyes".

and if you knew what was encased in the velvet box in his pocket, and what else was planned for this family dinner, you'd have no doubt in your mind that he hopes for the same.

before stepping out of the car, suna pulls you in for a kiss. it catches you off guard, but you relax into it.

"i'm pretty sure your dad's car is parked next to us," you mumble as he pulls away. his eyes fall back to your lips.

"so what? he doesn't know what a kiss is? how do you think i was made?"

"oh my god," you swat his chest. "let's go."

before he can open the door, his name leaves your lips.

"by the way, you have a little something right there," you point at the lipstick stain on his jaw.

I wanna give Luci a lil break from being tortured lol Can I ask for him and the letter c? Congrats on 3k!!

🎉3k celebration 🎉

c - courtship, what do they do to hint at wanting to get together? is it obvious they’re courting you or subtle? 

Lucifer thinks the smaller gestures are subtle enough for no one to notice. He thinks no one bats an eye when he stays back to walk you to RAD after breakfast, or how often he tries to eat lunch with you, or how quick he is to make you coffee in the morning (he’s memorized how you like it down to what your favourite mug is), or if he has to scold you the threats are so weak behind his words that you wonder why he bothered at all. 

But everyone notices. Asmodeus, who asks if Lucifer wants to know your shoe size or clothing sizes or what style of clothes you want to wear. Leviathan, who casually drops in sentences the type of movies you like, in case Lucifer somehow manages to find himself trying to buy 2 tickets to a movie. Mammon, who starts making gagging noises when you and Lucifer stare at each other for too long, begging for you both to get a room. He stops when Lucifer glares. 

It’s worse when Lucifer attempts to be coy, where everyone in the group chat that excludes you calls him out on how he clearly likes you. Only for him to say he doesn’t know what any of them are talking about. Belphegor, Satan and even Solomon have receipts to prove him wrong. “Oh yeah explain these.” Photos of Lucifer giving you his coat to stay warm, Lucifer pulling you close under an umbrella as you both walk in the rain, Lucifer listening to you tell a story with his chin resting in his hand with a warm smile on his face and Lucifer is not impressed. 

“Where do you get those photos? Delete them now.” Lucifer audibly groans when Diavolo comments on how happy you both seem together, and remarks that he cannot wait until Lucifer finally confesses as you’d both make a great couple. It’s then followed by a spam of stickers nodding in agreement. 

For Forever With You - Pt 1

***It's been a looooong time since I've written and I deeply apologize! However I'm back with our favourite wizard man! A long time ago, I wrote a little fic called "A Magical Bond" and now, after at least a year and a half, we go back to that MC and Solomon and discover their story. This is going to be a series with a new part for each era of their life that I cover. Thanks @jxcyt for the inspiration! I hope you enjoy 😊 -B ***

Summary: Two humans — one plain and dreadfully average, the other an immortal who thought he had seen an experienced it all. In any other world, they would go most of their lives without ever meeting and be destined for another, but not in this one.

1920s

Trumpets and saxophones swelled around Solomon as he sipped on a martini, observing the dazzling lights and sparkling dresses at the dive bar he had found on his way home.

Despite all the noise and glamour, he couldn't help but smile.

This was what he loved about humanity. The vibrancy. The life.

The last few decades had been so drab in comparison with all the dark colours and constricting societal rules but now ...

He laughed as a woman squealed as her partner twirled her before extending her out away from him. The two giggled before continuing to do the Charleston around each other with their arms waving about.

It looked fun. Solomon made a mental note to try and learn it before it went out of style.

"Pardon me, sir. Did you want a refill on your drink?"

He glanced down at the now-empty glass, before looking up. He felt his eyes widen as he took in your face. "It's you!" He couldn't help but shout in surprise, taking a second to take in your appearance — the serving uniform you were wearing looked exquisite on you. It was quite different from the modest, neck-high garbs that he had last seen you in, though he supposed that was due in part to the change in times. He glanced around from you to the rambunctious crowd around the two of you. "What are you doing in a place like this? Last I checked, it was 1910 and you were a cute, quiet librarian making a modest living."

You cracked a smile, pouring his drink with the same delicate, professional touch that he remembered you carrying even as you shelved books. "The war, for starters. Library couldn't afford to stay open."

Solomon huffed, taking a hearty gulp of his drink. "Shame. I quite like your little collection of books. It was a quiet haven. I'll miss it."

"I'm aware," you responded with a teasing lilt in your voice that caught the wizard's attention. "You swung by nearly every day. To be honest, I'm as surprised to see you here as you are to see me."

Solomon paused taking a moment to observe the situation. Both of you, not quiet strangers but not quiet friends, find yourselves at the same woefully tasteless speakeasy and happen to find each other. The smile on your face told him that's a good thing. And maybe it was the alcohol, but while he usually doesn't allow himself to get too close to mortals, there was something about the sparkle in your eyes that was drawing him in like a moth to the flame.

It had always been that way with you. He still vividly remembered the first time he ran into your quaint library to escape the rain, and there you were, warm and light, offering him a towel to dry off with and tea. He was hardly one to say no to such welcoming company. When he returned a second time, he had told you it was for the books, and that was true in part — you had quite the collection of vintage scripts he hadn't had the opportunity to read in some time — but he wanted to observe the compassionate creature that had taken him in. It wasn't long before coming to the library, perusing your stock, and people-watching became a hobby of his.

There was a strange ache in his chest when he went to visit you again one day, only to find the door boarded up and windows darkened.

He smiled and leaned in closer to you, "Perhaps I'm more than just the bookworm you thought I was. You seem well aware that a person can have several facets to themselves," he tilted his head, eyes flickering towards the door before returning to yours once more. "Would you care to learn mine?"

Your eyes widened, and he couldn't help but feel his smile grow as an adorably flustered look fretted across your expression. "I- I um-" you chuckled nervously, "You're more sly than I thought. I didn't take you for a cake-eater, mr ...." You blinked in sudden confusion. "Oh. All those visits to the library and I never caught your name."

"Solomon," he explained with a smirk. "And I meant no harm with my offer. Just a walk together on this lovely night and a bit of good conversation. It's been a while. I'm sure there's a story of how you ended up here."

You hummed, fiddling with the cocktail mixer still in your hands. "That don't sound too bad, I suppose," you glanced back at the clock over the bar. "My shift ends in about an hour and a half. Think you can wait?"

"Time is fickle and good company is rare and far between," your breath caught at his words as his knowing silver eyes locked onto yours. "Get back to work. I'll be back here when you're done ... though maybe a name to associate with my new companion before you leave."

"MC," you quickly offered, almost too quickly. "M-My name is MC. I-I um, yes. Back to work!"

He watched you go, his chest warm with the promise of something new, something exciting, something fun.

Gods, he hadn't felt this alive in centuries. He set down his drink and leaned back, simply enjoying the thriving atmosphere once more.

Nearly two hours later, the two of you were laughing as you walked through the empty city streets.

"There's no way," you cackled, fanning your face with your hand as your shoulders hitched. "There is no possible way that 's true."

"Well it is," Solomon teasingly reassured. "I presented his lordship with cookies that I spent at least a day preparing and they were so delightful, the man fainted on the spot. I am an excellent cook, I'll have you know."

He soaked in the sight of your head thrown back in laughter, the moon casting you in its mysterious glow and glittering off the embellishments of your uniform — a natural masterpiece. He had always been an admirer of humanity and the strange yet fascinating quirks it possessed but with you there was something drawing him in like the strongest undertow. As though the pulls of your charisma and beauty were the deadly tide and he was a sailor lost at sea. How tempting it was to let himself drown.

It was a draw he hadn't experienced since he tasted his first licks of magic.

"Solomon," he blinked himself out of his thoughts to see your hand waving in front of his face. A soft smile eased onto your face as you met eyes. "Thought you were lost there for a moment. Am I boring you that much?"

Warmth filled his chest as he smiled in return and took one of your hands into his own. "Quite the contrary."

The lovely flustered expression returned to your face once more. "Aren't you quite the flatterer," you chuckled staring at your two hands interlocked.

He hummed, never once taking his eyes off you. "Is that an issue?"

Sparks run up his spine as he felt you gently squeeze his hand. "Not so long as I'm the one you're flirting with."

A smile split across his face, "That can be arranged."

The night was one Solomon wouldn't forget. It was the first night he got to know you, really know you. You took turns asking each other questions, hands glued together, completely oblivious to the hours slipping by. The only care the two of you had was what would happen after it was time to say goodbye.

Turns out it didn't need to be a concern.

Solomon visited you in and outside of work frequently. The two of you would sneak away and Solomon would take you to all of his favourite places — little pieces of paradise that he liked to escape to when the world became too much. It wasn't something that he shared often but, as with anything related to you, you were the exception.

It was almost frightening how easy it was to open up to you. Solomon wouldn't describe himself as a particularly guarded person, but he appreciated some distance, it was safer that way. There were moments were he considered the thought that maybe you were a trap sent by someone he had annoyed. That you were charmed specifically for him to fall for.

He did research. He ran tests as subtly as he could without your clever mind catching on. The conclusion he came to was not one he had ever anticipated.

You weren't a trap designed for his destruction.

You were his soulmate.

He had heard of the concept before. They were rare and more of a child's tale than anything else. He had never actually met anyone with a genuine soulmate and as such, thought them to be nothing by horsefeathers.

But he couldn't deny it. There was a connection he felt to you the second he met you. You understood him in a way he had never encountered before. You were brilliant, and oh-so curious about everything around you. You grounded him and made him high all at once.

You were his other half.

It was a one in a million chance. One that he wasn't so keen to let go of.

The same day that Solomon made his realization, he bought a bouquet of flowers and took you to the same street the two of you had walked down until dawn.

"MC," he questioned softly as you swung your joined hands and looked at the bustling streets around you.

"Hm?" You hummed in acknowledgment, taking a second to sniff the white chrysanthemums and red primroses that he had gifted you.

"Will you allow me to court you?"

He expected sputtering, or that adorable bashful expression you get when he teases you, or perhaps laughter from shock. But he got none of that.

Instead, you cocked your eyebrow at him as you glanced over to him from the side of your eye. "Are we not already courting?"

Solomon felt his cheeks grow red as he stopped in his tracks and looked at you. "I beg your pardon?"

You snorted as gathered his arm with yours and pulled him back into pace alongside you once more. "We've been flirting with one another, going on unsupervised dates, and exchanging gifts for months now. I thought we were courting this whole time, you fool," you paused as realization struck you. "B-But um, if you didn't, then I ... I apologize if I was too forward or-"

"NO!" Solomon loudly amended, earning strange looks from the passerbys on the street around you. He waved at them in apologies before dragging you into a nearby ally. "No. That's not the case at all! I just thought we were being friendly and teasing one another!"

Your face only grew more flush at his words. "What? If that's friendly to you, then what in the world would courting mean to you?!"

He smirked as he leaned down close into your space, your back quickly finding the surface of the brick building behind you. "With any luck, and your permission, perhaps a kiss or two," your breath hitched as his hand came up to cup your cheek. "Telling you how when I see you, the sun ceases to exist as your light and radience is enough to warm me in even the cruelest of winters. Expressing that each time your eyes find mine, I'm taken back to that rainy little book shop and the sincere librarian who lived within it. Being sure that everyone knows exactly how much I love you."

"Solomon," you breathed, your voice threaded with utter awe that pooled in your eyes.

"I'll ask you again," he took another step closer. Your chests brushed against one another as the toes your shoes met. He could practically feel the frantic beating of your heart thrashing under your skin. "Will you allow me to court you? To love you and have you love me in turn?"

The bouquet that had been in your hands met the ground as you wound your arms around his neck and dragged his face down to meet yours.

A thousand lifetimes crashed into this one single moment, and for a second, Solomon felt so heartachingly mortal and timeless all at once. Your lips were richer than the oldest wines and equally addicting. They wrapped him with a powerful passion that he hadn't known he was missing. It was as though your souls had finally intertwined and were now waltzing the in the intimacy of your embrace.

He pressed his forehead against yours as you both pulled away. Your breath painted his shoulder as he felt your chest heave against him.

"Wow."

He couldn't help but laugh at your reaction, pulling you closer to him. "Is it safe for me to take this as an acceptance of my courting?"

You giggled, pecking his lips once more before bending down to pick up your discarded bouquet. "Of course it's a yes," you smirked as you batted his chest with the flowers. "It would've been a yes if you asked me properly months ago."

The smile that decorated his face was bigger and brighter than any smile he had ever worn before. He shook his head to himself took after you, ready chase after what little time with you had for every drop it was worth.

***And that's the first part of this Prequel! From here we'll be jumping to the 1930s for some pre-WW2 and then go from there! Hope you all enjoy! Thank you so much for your love and support!***

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @rul-of-demise @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21 @theother4 @todoroses @circus-of-freaks @mcx7demonbros @bloopthebat

Iwaizumi Hajime is undeniably the most magnetic person you’ve ever met.

Since you accepted the JVA’s offer and became the manager for the national team you’ve had to face this truth over and over again. Being around him feels like very cell in your body is awake. Hearing his voice makes your heart flutter and your senses sharpen as you become hyper-aware of yourself, of him.

Managing the absolute sociopaths on the team is a breeze compared to interacting with him. From stuttering incoherently as if your brain is malfunctioning to becoming the world’s klutziest manager, he’s hazardous for your health.

The team’s not ignorant of your reactions.

Their lingering looks and wry smiles give everything away. You expected the rambunctuous men to be going ou tof their way to antagonize you, to make your life a living hell like it had been with the Sendai Frogs after Iwaizumi visited Kyōtani but they haven’t. The teasing has been surprisingly…nonexistent.

You didn’t understand why for a while. And then Miya made a comment one day. Suna cooly told him to keep his mouth shut or you’d get copies of some videos from high school.

When you thanks him later and quietly asked why he did it he hesitated; after a long look he said “you’re being professional about the whole situation. He should be, too.”

Suna walked away leaving you more puzzled than before. You stewed over it for a long time, watching the players and their interactions more closely than you had and then you started to see.

You noticed the pattern.

There were enough athletes among the team speaking up that any attempts to make a joke or poke fun at you were quickly extinguished. And the biggest enforcers of your defense?

Sakusa, Kageyama, Suna, and Ojiro.

All the athletes who were involved with their managers, though the public only knew about Kageyama. It was easy to understand after that. They missed their partners, especially when they looked at you and any jest at your expense felt too personal.

So it became team culture to respect your space by ignoring your reactions.

It took the spotlight off you and a lot of pressure off your interactions with Iwaizumi. The only thing left to contend with was your weakness for athletic trainer.

And that was hard enough.

To set the stage for this abysmal work environment Iwaizumi remembered you. By name. By full name from the previous time he met you in Sendai. That was shocking.

You tried not to let it go to your head, quickly seeing how he was a thoughtful person in general, remembering details and anecdotes involving almost every athlete on the team, some from as far back as middle school. You told yourself he’s just got a good memory.

You’re nothing special.

The day you flexed your fingers, shaking out your hand because it was sore after a particularly large bout of paperwork, he noticed and asked to see it. You tried to stay composed as he took your hand and stretched it. Tried to keep your heart calm at the feeling of his firm, calloused but soft, and warm fingers massaging the muscles of your hand, his strong thumbs rubbing up your forearms.

It was hard to breathe.

He was so innocently oblivious to the effect he had on you, how close he was, how good he smelled, and you hoped he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of you. After he finished and relinquished your arm he moved on to help someone else, an athlete who was stretching. You tried not to be jealous of the casual contact he gave everyone; it was his job to help the team and you were just a part of that.

Everyday has been a struggle to remind yourself that you were just another neutral entity in his life, someone he cared for out of obligation and proximity.

It’s draining.

The self-doubt is pervasive; the self-deprecation, persistent.

It’s crushing.

“You don’t look so good.”

The gym’s empty, only a few lights still lit, as you sit on the bench after practice a few weeks into the training camp. You look at Suna standing in front of you.

“Thanks for the observation,” you reply dryly.

Suna lingers, watching you closely. “You wanna talk about it?”

Remembering the way he stopped Atsumu, you nod. “Yes please.” He sits next to you in no rush for you to talk. Your eyes roam the gym as you sift through your thoughts, knowing that Suna doesn’t need much context; the question comes out quietly. “Should I just give up on him?”

“Do you have anything to give up on?”

You frown, looking at Suna from the corner of your eye. “Yeah. My feelings,” you answer like it should be obvious.

He rolls his eyes. “You can’t ‘give up’ on feelings. Not really. You feel the way you feel…the only thing you can change is what you do with those feelings…And from what I’ve seen…” he gives you a flat look “…you haven’t done anything with them yet. So what is there to give up on?”

You don’t say anything after that.

Suna waits for a long while in your heavy silence before slowly rising and patting you on the head in departure.

You stay there thinking for a long time.

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒

˖ ݁ . ࿓ includes — bakugo katsuki, midoriya izuku, takami keigo (hawks), todoroki touya (dabi), tomura shigaraki

˖ ݁ . ࿓ content warnings — possessiveness, a little suggestive

˖ ݁ . ࿓ BAKUGO does not stand for people disrespecting your relationship by flirting with you—and in front of him, no less. he’s proud of everything he has earned in life, including you. so when someone thinks they can get away with coming onto you, he’s visibly fuming. it’s never your fault, but he can’t help but pull you behind him and shield you from hungry eyes and eager hands. most people are wise enough to want to leave when they’re faced with him, but bakugo isn’t letting them go anywhere without saying a few choice words of his own. his yelling elicits stares from bystanders but that’s the least of his concerns. before he tells them to get lost, he makes them apologize to you for putting you in an uncomfortable situation. he’s a lot more touchy than usual after encounters such as those.

˖ ݁ . ࿓ DEKU is the silent type. he thinks that jealousy is an ugly emotion and doesn’t like letting it get the better of him. that doesn’t mean he isn’t mildly irritated when someone thinks they can make a move on you. though, in order to not cause conflict, he thinks it’s best to let the situation run its natural course—ending with your rejection, of course. but he’s always ready to step in if your admirer is getting particularly pushy. while he waits for those events to play out, he’ll stand by with a cold gaze, biting the inside of his cheek to make sure he doesn’t say anything he might regret. it’s impossible to not feel that intense stare boring into you, which is usually what gets the offender to back off if you haven’t quite made it to that stage yet. izuku’s charming smile is back as soon as you two are alone.

˖ ݁ . ࿓ HAWKS isn’t one to let emotions get in the way of rationality, but he’s not going to sit back and watch someone hit on you as if he’s not there. there’s a glint in his eyes that serves as a warning to whoever is getting a little too close for comfort. but since he has an image to upkeep, there’s still a lazy smile present on his lips and he makes an effort to keep the interaction as civil as he can given the circumstances. all of a sudden he’s initiating subtle but telling touches like wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing kisses to your temple. his hope is that they take the hint and leave you be, but if they don’t, he politely excuses you both. it’s hard to tell from just looking at him and his carefree expression, but behind those golden eyes, he’s seeing red.

˖ ݁ . ࿓ DABI is incredibly possessive and does not take well to people hitting on you. he’s not a fan of people even looking your way so imagine how agitated he gets when he sees someone talking to you—making a move to touch you. he’s dropping whatever he’s doing, abandoning whatever conversation he was part of, and angrily stepping over to confront the person trying their luck with you. he’ll give them a chance to explain themselves but only because he likes seeing the realization and fear in their eyes. he isn’t above getting physical, so if that looks like it might be the case, it’s best that you grab him and go before he hurts someone. when you’re outside and away from everyone else, he’s holding your face in his hands and making you promise that you’re his.

˖ ݁ . ࿓ SHIGARAKI doesn’t enjoy sitting on the sidelines, but it’s his safest option given his line of work. he can’t afford to draw unwanted attention his way, so he’s forced to keep his distance and observe from afar (that is, if he doesn’t have the intention of causing trouble). he silently watches through strands of blue-grey hair, nails clawing at his neck or pulled between his teeth in an effort to keep himself from making a scene. one “innocent” touch on your arm or a confident whisper in your ear is all it takes to have him darting from his chair and dragging you away from your newfound acquaintance—not without sending them a vicious glare before your departure. you might not have been the one flirting, but he’ll have to remind you of who you belong to regardless. 

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