teklarn

[teklarn]

promise. - j. todd

masterlist!

jason todd x gn!reader

genre: angst bro. angst.

summary: jason knew his bad habits would eventually weigh you down. he just never considered how heartbroken he'd be after you finally had enough of his antics and broke it off with him.

i've done the math, there's no solution. we'll never last, why can't i let go of this?

warnings: killing, heavy-ish angst, no happy ending(?), just a really sad man, a little bit of stalking, insomnia

---

the gunshot ringing through his ears gave him peace, though it lasted only a second. so he fired another shot. another one, then another after that. he fired his gun until it was out of bullets. then he reloaded. then he ran out of bullets again.

and reloaded.

and shot until he was completely out of bullets altogether.

the ringing in his ears was almost deafening by the time he ran out. it was so loud he was cringing, scrunching his face together and rubbing at his temples.

his eyes fell on the mauled corpse in front of him. a criminal who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. because jason had been stalking these very streets searching to make a mess of someone.

just to blow off some steam, because hopefully, if he lost himself long enough in the bloody mess and the screams of his victims, it would help him forget you for a little while longer.

but it only made it worse somehow. yet every night since you'd broken his heart, he found himself here again. despite the ache in his chest every single time he planted a bullet in some petty criminal's forehead, every single time he was dragging his sore body back to his trashed apartment, he couldn't stop.

his body, his mind, his very soul wouldn't let him forget who he was, and why you'd broken his heart.

it was easier to think you'd broken his heart rather than him breaking yours. though that was indeed the truth. you'd broken his heart by breaking it off, but for the past year, he had slowly been tearing you apart.

every night, coming home bruised and in pain, every night with new blood on his hands when he couldn't sleep. it had slowly been breaking you apart.

he wanted to throw up when he thought of you.

because he was so utterly disgusted by the man he was. he let you slip through his grasp, and here he was, still not changing. still the same vigilante with twisted values and blurry morals.

jason wanted to be better. he just...couldn't be. this was who he was. who fate wanted him to be. the world was so desperate to make a monster out of him, so why should he try to be something else?

"i promise i'll be better. i'll stop killing, i'll stop going out at night. i'll be better, y/n. i promise."

those words haunted him. the last words he'd said to you before you pushed him out of your apartment.

yet here he was breaking his promise. he should show up at your door with flowers, with chocolate. with nice things he can't afford. he should be throwing pebbles at your window instead of out here.

jason knew that not one part of him deserved you. not the boy before robin, not the version of him who was robin, and not who he was now. he'd never deserved you back then, and he didn't deserve you now.

he should stop wanting you so much.

but dammit, you were so beautiful. and terrifyingly intoxicating. he was drunk off the image of you every single night. you were haunting him, and it was driving him insane.

his eyes focused, and they fell on the dead man in front of him again. boulders plummeted right into his chest. the weight of his heart was impossibly heavy; it weighed him down like a block of gold would.

jason didn't want to go home yet. he wanted to kill more. to stay out until the sun was rising, until the sky was blue and the city was alive again. he couldn't sleep knowing you weren't in his arms. and dammit, he'd even tried breathing exercises to calm his violent heart during sleepless nights.

when that didn't work, he'd tried unhealthy amounts of melatonin. for a time, that worked. but he couldn't spend money on that when he didn't have any. he could barely afford roses for you, so when he downed the whole bottle of melatonin just to get to bed for one night, he realized it wasn't worth his money.

so jason would rather waste all his time doing something―doing the only thing―that could make him forget about you, even for a little while.

this wasn't who he wanted to be.

he wanted to be a better man.

for you.

but the world had other plans. the world had plans to make him a monster.

no, the world had sent him a monster. the world let that monster wrap its gnarly hands around his throat, crushing and squeezing, suffocating. forcing him to chase everyone and everything out of his life.

he just wanted to love you like he was supposed to.

so jason wiped the blood from his hands onto his chest before setting off into the night. he wasn't invincible―eventually he'd need to get to bed.

so he set off to find the only thing that could currently make him feel safe enough to fall asleep.

with ease, jason climbed the fire escape of a nearby building and hauled himself onto the rooftop, a mere shadow in the night. he moved like an acrobat, swinging from building to building, finding his way around the city like it was a map tattooed on the palm of his hand.

the brick building before him was all too familiar as he settled on the fire escape.

jason was hilariously quiet as he stepped onto your fire escape, peering into the window, a warm light bleeding out. he tucked his huge figure into a ball, keeping his legs together so they wouldn't create shadows and startle you.

it was terribly uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as three sleepless nights in a cold bed.

there you were. he couldn't hear you, but he knew were you humming softly to yourself, preparing lunch for the next day. he'd caught you just in time―right before you were about to head to bed.

just a glimpse of you, knowing you were safe, knowing you were warm and somewhat content...it was already making him feel drowsy.

he knew you had no reason to go onto the fire escape, so he kept a tattered blanket tucked away in the corner. just in case he was nearby on a sleepless night like this.

well, he used nearby as an excuse.

realistically, jason could be half way across the city and still drag his sorry ass to your fire escape just so he could catch a lick of sleep. just to see you. or, if you light was off, it was just a comfort to know he was near you.

in some alternative universe, jason could have changed. he could have been better to you, and to himself.

he could have kept those empty promises like an oath, something to live by. maybe in that universe, he was working a nine to five, or you two had children. maybe none, and instead you two opted for pets. whatever pet you desired, of course.

as the fantasy lulled him to sleep, he promised himself to wake up before you left for work early in the morning. sometimes, on lucky mornings, he was able to watch you bustle about your morning routine. then you'd go off to work, and he'd be closer to you than ever.

him up here, you down on the sidewalk, making your way to work.

his heart ached.

"i promise i could have changed," jason whispered, blinking back the sparkly tears in his eyes. "if you just gave me more time, my darling. i could have changed. i promise."

even now, the promise felt empty. as he drifted off to sleep for the first time in three days, he tried to convince himself it wasn't.

-

UNEDITED

[teklarn]

your version of the sky - k. bakugou (2)

katuski bakugou x fem!reader 

genre: (it's a series, there's probably everything LMAO)

QUICK NOTE (PLEASE READ)

summary: sarcastic anti-hero, y/n, a young girl, struggles to see the good in heroes after an incident in her childhood. raised as a hidden member of the League of Villains, she enrolls at U.A with a plan to bring down heroes, but finds her greatest obstacle lies in the form of a blonde boy with anger issues.

"your version of the sky was simply different from mine."

warnings:  cursing (the cursing gets more frequent as the story goes on), gore depictions/slight body horror, (slowburn so it might be boring in the beginning lol)

(other parts linked below)

-

02 - CERTAIN THINGS

There were certain things Katsuki knew would never stop pissing him off. 

Just some that he encountered daily consisted of (but of course, were not limited to): 

- The absolutely excruciating, loud and pitchy, nasally laugh of Denki Kaminari 

- The freckled face and baby-like smile of Deku 

- And you. 

You, who was stubborn and irritable and horrid in every way imaginable. And he had to sit there and watch you walk into his classroom, do the same assignments as him, andtalk to his classmates. Because apparently this classroom was open to just about anyone.

Even people who came out of fucking nowhere claiming to be some transfer student or something. 

You were talented, he didn't question it. You were strong and you could manage your quirk surprisingly well. He wasn't about to take that away from you. What he was going to take away from you, however, was the fact that you didn't belong here. 

The school shouldn't have made room for another student in Class 1-A, especially you. 

Yet you were smiley and jittery and everyone's new best friend. 

Katsuki scoffed, averting his eyes to the empty page of his notebook. He busied himself with writing the date at the top of the page and scribbling his name down in messy handwriting, the 'K' of his name slightly larger than the rest of his letters. 

He'd learned to ignore all three of his least favorite things by plugging in his headphones and blasting his current favorite playlist. 

Given the amount of times Katsuki had ignored everyone in class and refused any invites from his 'friends' to hang out, Kirishima and Kaminari had an ongoing joke that Katsuki, although the person with the loudest voice and biggest personality, was introverted. 

The truth was, growing up he'd had many friends. He hadn't ever been introverted in the slightest. He just hated everyone and couldn't stand being around kids his age who still thought normal bodily functions were the funniest shit ever. 

Immature is what he had labeled them as. Nothing more. 

And you were lugged into that sorry group of idiots. Because you laughed with them, failed homework and tests with them, studied with them. 

You were annoying. The most insufferable of them all. 

It was why you were last on his list of things he hated. 

Did you really think he could stand to write your name? Even more than once was a nuisance. You were a nuisance. 

You and your voice and your face and your uniform with the stupid skirt and tie and your stupid smile. 

Katsuki had to admit to himself that he hated you, almost as much as he hated everyone else and Deku...combined. 

But, oblivious to his wandering thoughts, there you were, striding into class like you owned the damned place, greeting everyone that passed by just because. 

And like the idiot your clumsy ass was, you bumped into a table, then proceeded to apologize to the table. And then you laughed at yourself as if no one saw. 

But Katsuki saw. 

He saw the annoying grimace everyone liked to call a smile. 

Call him a grouch, but it was nothing personal. He felt like that towards—mostly―everyone. You and Deku had your own little level of hate for just him, though. 

"You're late to class by a minute again, Y/n," Iida scolded. 

You let out a huff of air. "That's fifteen minutes before Aizawa Sensei gets here." 

Kaminari's arm slinked around your shoulders. "She's right, Iida. If anyone's consistently late, it's gotta be Sensei." 

"Or maybe it's you, because the only person you see coming late is Sensei because you come twenty minutes after he does," Kirishima piped in. 

You let out a breathy chuckle. "It's fine, Iida. He won't care, trust me. He cares if we act like idiots in class―" you elbowed Kaminari in the stomach, "―not if we're late to class." 

Iida pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a finger, pressing his lips into a line. "Get seated. Let's all be ready for when Aizawa Sensei gets here." He swept a commanding hand over the bustling students of class 1-A, to which everyone responded with complete ignorance. 

Most mornings were just like this one. Noisy despite the music blasting in Katsuki's ears plus a late Aizawa. However, instead of the grouchy teacher stumbling in on two hours of sleep and his third cup of coffee, the class was greeted by a familiar booming voice. 

All Might stormed into the room, his chest puffed out like a silly action figure, his smile wide enough to show all his pearly white teeth. 

Katsuki perked up, his back straightened as he tugged his earbuds out and shut his music off. 

"Good morning, Class 1-A!" The hero shouted. 

Students rushed to their desks, greeting him in return. Despite seeing the hero mostly every single day, it was still exciting to most of the students. Especially Katsuki. Not that he'd ever let anyone know how much of a dork he was over the hero (not that he had a single bone in him that was actually, in fact, dorky). 

"Today, we'll be doing something different. We're going to reserve today's classes for training!"

The class hooted with excitement, Kaminari pumped his fist into the air, glad to be away from actual academics. It was hard for Katsuki not to roll his eyes, but he was excited all the same. 

"As your teachers, we've noticed some vast improvement since the beginning of the year. The control of your quirks has improved, as well as the overall power of them. However, we've also noticed that, while individually all of you have improved, this group's collective weakspot is cooperation. Thinking fast on the battle field as a group. Working with one another to take one thing down at a time." 

Katsuki clenched his fists. He heard Deku adjust himself in his chair behind him, stiffening. 

Because All Might was right. 

They were all horrible at that. And cooperation is what made a good hero. Katsuki wasn't oblivious to that, as many people thought he would be. It's not that he didn't see how cooperation benefitted a hero, but he was simply a greater hero when he acted on his own. 

"You'll be split into groups for this day-long activity," All Might continued. "These groups will be completely randomized, so don't assume you'll be with someone you can cooperate with easily." 

Collectively, the class nodded. 

"That said!" All Might grinned once more, his voice picking up its iconic excitement again, "Get your hero suits ready!"

-

UNEDITED! (wc: 1099)

teklarn's masterlists

[teklarn]

note! (your version of the sky k.bakugou)

QUICK NOTE ABOUT THE BAKUGOU x READER SERIES your version of the sky !!!

does not follow the canon storyline

takes place over the three years in high school (as if things went normally, lol. so again, nowhere near the canon storyline) so characters will eventually be aged up

it's a slowburn, so please expect it to be a lil slow, but there's a lot of tension so it's worth it (I THINK? I HOPE?)

it's fem!reader. i know i usually do gn!reader but this one is really old and i'm just transferring it here.

it's kind of its own thing. like. i don't even know what's happening.

it's been a while since i've written it and i'm just copy pasting the few chapters i have written from wattpad so i think(?) reader is supposed to be from america (im canadian sigh)

anyways i think that's all for now, bye bye

series is linked on the page below :)

teklarn's masterlists

[teklarn]

your version of the sky - k. bakugou (1)

katuski bakugou x fem!reader 

genre: (it's a series, there's probably everything LMAO)

QUICK NOTE (PLEASE READ)

summary: sarcastic anti-hero, y/n, a young girl, struggles to see the good in heroes after an incident in her childhood. raised as a hidden member of the League of Villains, she enrolls at U.A with a plan to bring down heroes, but finds her greatest obstacle lies in the form of a blonde boy with anger issues.

"your version of the sky was simply different from mine."

warnings:  cursing (the cursing gets more frequent as the story goes on), gore depictions/slight body horror, (slowburn so it might be boring in the beginning lol)

(other parts linked below)

---

01 - SUNRISE

Katsuki Bakugou had come to know that, from a very young age, music was the best possible escape. 

From friends, from family. 

From the world. 

A song equals a short, three or four minute break (sometimes five) from this reality that he called his. 

He didn't feel obligated to tell people he loved a certain band. A band that should have been his and his alone. He didn't feel the need to tell everyone he loved certain genres. He didn't, because for a moment, it was just his. Even if there were a million other people listening to it at the same time, he felt lost in his own world of notes and vocals and beauty. 

And he was determined to keep those moments just his. So when his friends would pry and annoy him, asking relentlessly as to what he might be listening to, Katsuki would snap harder at them than before. 

Because it was his moment to be alone. His moment to not be scared of the daydreams to come. 

It was why he loved mornings like this. Mornings where he felt like he was seeing the sun for the first time. 

When hues of orange and pink spilled across his floor and everything was quiet except for his headphones, the volume maxed out with one of his many playlists he'd been keeping on repeat for quite a while. 

He swiped at the mirror, foggy from the scalding shower he'd finished just minutes ago, and took in his face of pale skin and his eyes of crimson red.

While Katsuki never cared much for his looks, he knew that he wasn't ugly. His skin was smooth, free of blemishes. His lips a soft pink. 

It wasn't his body or his face or his hair or anything like that. None of that had ever made him insecure. 

It was the idea that someone was ahead of him. It was how everyone was gushing over them. Watching them with awe in their eyes because suddenly, Katsuki's acceleration in comparison to the rest of his class was old news. 

He was no longer the best. 

Well, he was. He was just a boring kind of best. 

The kind of best his peers now rolled their eyes at. Because never once have they seen him fail at something. They were used to Katsuki being Katsuki. And, unfortunately, he was a winner no matter what he did. 

But then comes a stranger with a strange talent. 

You weren't smart, you weren't pretty, you weren't anything. 

So he couldn't see why everyone was so damned obsessed with you. Why was everyone always thinking about your face? About your skills with those purple arrows you formed out of nowhere and your incredible focus to keep your quirk in place and your phenomenal attention to detail... 

And how your quirk was operated by music. 

You stuck those wireless earbuds in and blasted away, thin, purple arrows flying in time with your arms precisely to the beat of the song you were listening to. 

Well, it wasn't operated by music. But manipulating your arrows was difficult and required a lot of focus...or so he had heard. Listening to music helped reduce your headaches and loosen you up. 

Katsuki clenched his fists. He felt foolish for knowing so much. For caring so much. But he wasn't stupid enough to pretend he wasn't focused on you. 

He stretched out his muscles, groaning at the soreness that lingered. Despite the constant scolding he gave Kirishima to not overwork his quirk, Katsuki was a hypocrite. But how else could he get any better? 

Not that he needed to be better than you. Only that...he wanted his spot back. His first place spot. 

Number one belonged to him. He was number one. He shouldn't have to earn his spot back. But yet here Katsuki was, his breathing heavy, his nails digging into his palms, leaving behind crescent moon imprints in his frustration. 

He'd spent a great portion of his life being angry. But this time...he was furious. He couldn't stand not being on top. Couldn't stand the thought of having someone like you above him. Because you were boring and weak, and he hated you. 

You had him gritting his teeth, clenching his fists, nawing at his bottom lip until he peeled skin and drew blood. You had him panicking. 

- 

Years ago, your mother had been murdered by a pro-hero. It has been ten years since you were just a five-year-old girl gawking at the television. 

His name was Endeavor. A disgusting excuse for a hero. 

He was rude and brash and truly cared nothing for the people he served. You could see through his mask of fire. Desire was driving that man insane. 

You saw it on the faces of many heroes. 

Because who was going to endanger their lives every single day for the rest of their lives just because they were 'good people?'

Simply put, no one. 

Heroes are there to show us we should be good people. Heroes don't tell us that good deeds shouldn't be boasted or bragged about. 

But the whole point of heroism was to show the world that you were a good enough person to make more money than the average worker. 

It was embarrassing, truly. 

And so were villains. 

Your mother was tied down by a man who she had once mistaken for a lover. And while she despised him more than anything, you did not. She told you not to. Something she always reminded you of was that you should love your father. 

He might be mean sometimes, but he is still your father. 

And so you loved him. 

Unfortunately, your father and mother's romance had left you in messy apartments and wet mattresses as a child. Alone, most of the time. 

Up until your mother's death, at least. 

A hero's job was to minimize damage, to save people. But it was impossible to completely avoid casualties.

You'd grown up with the fear of the news and your mother's name being plastered on a headline. Most of the time, a child's nightmares doesn't come true. Because often, a child's nightmares consist of bedtime monsters, not heroes.

But yet, there it was, sliding across the bottom of the television like some insignificant sponsor at a sporting event. But that headline still remained everything for you. 

When your father had come to get you that day, you were a stubborn, whiny, kicking child. Not much has changed since then. 

Only your surroundings. 

The walls were brown instead of a grey-ish white now. And there was company here, too. Most of the time. 

A crazy bunch of people who you now had the guts to call your family. It was home, minus the presence of your mother's sweet face. And while you loved these people to death, they were just as screwed up as the heroes. 

They had a screwed view of what power is, but more than that, how it should be utilized, as did your heroes. 

There was one reoccurring problem you saw with the world. 

An issue you'd spent years dissecting, a plan you'd spent even longer formulating. 

On the mornings where you were able to drag yourself out of bed before sunrise, (which was, surprisingly, most mornings) you worked and worked. Perfecting your work more than it could be perfected. 

You watched the serums drip into one another, green swirling into a dull yellow liquid, the reaction slow. Yet, for the next hour, you waited patiently. The process was painfully slow. Most days it was. It was rare to have some exciting reaction. 

But those were the ones you should avoid the most. The explosions, the rattles in the glass beakers. 

You tapped your foot to the beat of the music you were listening to, nodding your head as you stirred the two liquids together more. You'd let it sit until tonight. Then you'd leave to test it. 

You poured the serum into a syringe. Careful. Precise. Unmistakably perfect. Then, quietly, you stuffed it behind scattered papers and folders at the back of the drawer in your desk. The League didn't quite care what you did in your room and didn't bother to snoop, but there was always the odd chance one of them could. And should they discover what you were up to, it could be the end for you and everyone else. 

So you shut the drawer and wandered to the bathroom,  appearing nonchalant about the entire thing. 

You dressed for the day, following your normal routine as usual. However, that also consisted of your mind being trained on one thing and one thing only. 

That serum at the back of your desk and the thing you'd been hoping it was capable of accomplishing for years. 

The issue that birthed this idea... 

The messy world of heroes and villains. 

These battling perspectives of good and evil. 

But there was one common thing about heroes and villains. 

Without these powers, none of this would be happening. 

You, at a very young age, had come to know that this world had a common issue: too many superpowers in the world. 

---

UNEDITED (wc: 1528)

teklarn's masterlists

[teklarn]

dc masterlist.

JASON TODD:

FLUFF:

ANGST:

please, please please

jason todd has bad habits. REALLY bad habits. not to mention, his reputation is already horrible. all you want is for him to understand that you're trying to make this relationship work, and all he wants you to know is that he's trying so hard to please you. so when you threaten to cancel a double dinner date dick and kori invited you out to, he's determined to stay poised for you, but things get heated when he runs off to the bathroom in the middle of dinner.

promise

jason knew his bad habits would eventually weigh you down. he just never considered how heartbroken he'd be after you finally had enough of his antics and broke it off with him

-

OTHER MASTERLISTS:

main masterlist!

teklarn's cliche's and tropes

[teklarn]

please, please, please - j. todd

masterlist!

jason todd x gn!reader

genre: a little angsty??? i really don't know LMAO

summary: jason todd has bad habits. REALLY bad habits. not to mention, his reputation is already horrible. all you want is for him to understand that you're trying to make this relationship work, and all he wants you to know is that he's trying so hard to please you. so when you threaten to cancel a double dinner date dick and kori invited you out to, he's determined to stay poised for you, but things get heated when he runs off to the bathroom in the middle of dinner.

heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another. i beg you, don't embarrass me motherfucker.

warnings: just a lil toxic relationship. a little humorous and silly, this is not meant to be taken seriously LMAO. a few curses. and reader is a bit of a (huge) softie, all characters are over 18, very suggestive towards the end. UNEDITED!!!

---

when jason comes home covered in blood, you're not even surprised. at this point, you're just disappointed, and he can see it on your face.

you'd wrapped a cardigan around yourself and had sat on the couch, watching the hours tick by. he'd left sometime during the night, and you'd woken up around three in the morning to a cold, empty bed.

you knew he would return. but, without a doubt, he'd return with the lingering smell of alcohol clinging to his leather jacket or with blood splattered somewhere on his body.

unfortunately for you, it was the latter.

"jace," you said breathily, standing up. he could barely look you in the eyes as he removed his blood-red helmet, shaking his dark locks loose.

he didn't say anything, his pride like a cement block in front of you.

"jace," you repeated, harsher this time. you wandered up to him. the first time he'd vanished from bed in the night, he'd come home smelling of alcohol. the next time, which was a week later, it had been blood on his clothes.

you knew joker had messed him up, but when you moved in with him, you didn't expect his destructive habits to be this.

for months now, he'd been sneaking around behind your back, hiding his bad habits.

you gripped his chin, tilting his face up at you. even though you lifted his face, his eyes stayed trained on the ground, as if there was something intensely interesting about it.

"look at me, jason todd." his full name snapped him to attention. his eyes flickered to meet yours.

"y/n," he said, an apology already lacing his tone. "i'm―"

"don't. don't give me that, jason todd."

he dropped his helmet on the floor, dragging his feet and leaning in for your touch. "can we please just―"

"no, jason. you cannot keep doing this." at this point, it didn't phase you anymore. "we have a dinner tomorrow! are you kidding me? it's nearly five in the morning."

"you didn't have to...wait up for me."

you scoffed. "excuse me? jason, i woke up and you were gone. of course i'm going to wonder where you are. but this has become so normal that i just hope you come home in a somewhat normal state." you sighed, gritting your teeth. "look, honey. i understand you've been through things. you've been through things no one should ever have to endure. but realistically, it doesn't excuse any of this."

you flicked a speck of blood on his jacket. "blood? are you kidding me, jason?" you ran a hand down your face. "i don't even know what to say anymore. you just need to―"

he pulled you in, his big arms wrapping around your waist and hugging you tightly. he pressed his lips into yours, needy but astonishingly gentle.

"please," he muttered into the kiss. "please, darling."

you refused to melt. you didn't want to just pass this on as nothing. blood wasn't nothing. you'd already been swayed so many times before. not this time.

but oh, the way his hands just found the perfect place on your waist to pull you in. the way his strong biceps curled around your back, apologetic and promising to keep you safe.

he made a small, muffled noise. "i know i fuck up. like, every night." he let out a long breath, tickling your neck. "i fuck up every night, who am i kidding, darling? but...if we could just..." you knew what he was going to say next.

if we could just go to sleep, darling?

you found the strength to push away from him. "fine." it was your turn to stare at the ground, unable to meet his needy gaze. "i just..." you sighed. "maybe we should cancel the dinner tomorrow night." it was a double date.

dick and koriand'r had invited you two out as a double date. dick thought it would be nice to get jason out of the house.

and you had to admit, it would be nice. but at this point, you were beginning to lose hope.

"what?" jason muttered. he brushed your shoulders. "darling, you've been looking forward to this dinner all week. it's all you can talk about."

you wiggled out of his gentle grasp. "it's also all i can worry about, jace." you turned away, toying with the threads of your cardigan.

the silence was so thick you could cut through it. he rested a hand on your shoulder. "darling...i―"

darling. always darling this, darling that. darling, i'll be better. darling, i'll change. you wanted to swat his hand away. but you couldn't find the anger to do so.

"no. we...it's okay." you turned and cupped his scarred face. you traced your thumbs over the bumps, the uneven skin. the scars you'd memorized so easily. the scars you kiss every night. "you haven't been looking forward to it, i know."

"but i can...i want to be there. for you."

your heart clenched. "jason. i know that, but i cannot go knowing that..."

"that what?"

"knowing that we're still doing this. how do i know you're not going to cuss someone out at the restaurant? how do i know you're not going to let it slip that you've fallen back into alcohol, back into...into..."

he finished for you, "...killing?"

the word put a bitter taste in your mouth, though you weren't even the one to utter it. "yes..."

"i won't."

"you know who dick will report you to if you do."

"yeah...yeah, i know darling. i know." he cupped your face. "i want to be there. you've been wanting to do something with me for so long. i want to do this. for you. i've just been stressing out about it."

you raised an eyebrow. "that's why you had to go out? you were stressing about this?"

he swallowed.

"how about you talk to me next time?"

he squeezed his eyes shut. "i knew i should have. darling, i'm sorry. i know you hear that all the time, but...tonight, can we please just―"

"forget it?" you nearly chortled. "no. i'm not forgetting this." you said it softly. you weren't mad. just...disappointed. but whatever.

"can we please go to sleep, darling?"

"if you promise that the next time you feel like sneaking out on me, you'll wake me up and talk to me about whatever it is that's bothering you. alright? instead of shutting down on me."

"i promise. i promise." his lips tilted up in a tired smile before you led him to your shared bedroom.

---

you fixed his crooked red tie. the fancy suit was a strange compliment to his rugged, scarred face, but you thought he looked handsome regardless.

his lips were pressed in a tense line.

"hey," you said. you brushed your thumb over his jaw. he went slack from your touch, eyes softening. "it'll be okay," you reassured. "thank you for doing this for me." please don't fuck it up.

"thank you for being patient with me, y/n." you heard the unspoken words there: i'm trying. he slipped his hands down your figure-hugging dress. "you look so beautiful."

"so do you," you chuckled. you intertwined your fingers with his. "come on, we're going to be late, darling."

the drive there was tense, memories of last night floating in the air. you didn't want him to think you were angry. you were too used to his bad habits to be angry anymore. you were just frustrated, to say the least.

the restaurant was fancy. a glittering floor of black marble and fake stars greeted you.

"we're meeting some friends here," you said to the host. "we had a reservation for four?"

the host nodded. "right this way." the host nodded, smiling at you and jason. jason simply grunted in greeting. you didn't fail to notice the host's smile beginning to fade.

you brushed the exchange off.

seated at the table was dick and kori. he waved you over, kori greeting you with a blindingly friendly smile.

"friends," she said, standing up to wrap her arms around you. "it's nice to see you two." her eyes landed on jason. "jason. are you well?"

"mhm," he grunted simply.

kori sensed the hesitation in the room. everyone could, but luckily dick was quick to change the subject.

"fancy, right?" he smile at jason.

you didn't take offense to how their attention seemed trained on your boyfriend. they were monitoring him. you wished you could reassure them that he was completely stable.

"yeah, real fancy," jason replied.

"you look wonderful in a suit, jason." kori smiled.

the dinner was going well. as well as it could be. halfway through, you realized jason had barely said anything. his leg was bouncing underneath the table like an anxious dog; his fists were clenched, knuckled turning white and imprints of crescent moons on his palms.

your heart clenched at the sight of him. he'd barely touched his food, too.

dick and kori were great at filling the dead air. they carried out conversations when you fell silent, and when jason failed to subsitute anything to the conversation.

they seemed to be enjoying themselves, and honestly, you were too. you were getting a bit tipsy, and you needed to.

ten minutes after you noticed jason getting more and more anxious, he excused himself to the bathroom.

another ten minutes passed, and you continued your tipsy, light-hearted conversation with dick and kori. another ten, and dick suggested, "should i go check on jason? he's been in the bathroom for a while."

you had totally forgotten. you stood, wobbly in your heels. "i will. i'll just shoot him a text." your cheeks were heating from the alcohol.

you were willing to bet he hadn't been in the bathroom this entire time. rather, he was standing right outside of the bathroom.

"jason," you said sternly, trying not to slur your words. you had desperately needed this night. one night where you didn't have to worry about him. "what are you doing?"

"y/n, darling." he sighed. "i'm sorry. i just...i panicked and―look, i'm trying. i'm fucking trying, but they talk so much and everything is so damn loud."

you sighed. "okay. fine. fine. we can go. just. ugh...fine. nevermind." maybe it was the alcohol that was irking you. maybe it was the fact you'd told kori and dick that he'd been doing so much better, knowing he hadn't been.

maybe you were a fool for this entire thing.

maybe you should just break up.

maybe all of this was for nothing and you had finally stopped and―

"don't." jason's word stopped your racing heart. you felt it drop into your stomach as you met his red-hot gaze.

"don't what, jace?" his well-worn nickname was full of venom as you spat it out of your mouth. you were pissed. you felt sympathetic. you had felt that way since you started dating, but had you come to a point where it became too much for you?

his eyes narrowed as he lifted your chin. "just don't...don't look at me like that."

"ike what?" you seethed, resisting the urge to shove his hand away.

"like you want to kill me." he said it softly, as if he was wounded simply by how you looked at him. "don't look at me like you hate me."

your withering gaze faltered, just by the smallest bit, but you saw the way he reacted to it. the way his own hardened features seemed to relax. "i don't hate you," you mutter, averting your gaze. you sighed, running your hands up and down your outfit. "i'm just...frustrated."

"me too," jason agreed. "i know," he repeated before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.

it came as such a shock, but you should have seen it coming, honestly. your heart was pounding as you suddenly became all-too aware of the muffled voices drifting in from the restaurant.

"jason," you said through the kiss. "jason i don't think we―"

"mm," he groaned into the kiss, pressing harder to silence you.

you knew it was wildly inappropriate to be doing this here, especially considering you had two other people waiting on you and jason. but the rest of you couldn't help but agree with all of this.

with the kiss, with the way his hand trailed through your outfit and onto your bare back. with the way his breaths became more frantic, more needy, more desperate.

without looking which restroom it was, jason pushed you against the door and shoved it open, and within seconds his nimble hands had locked the two of you in a bathroom stall, all without breaking the kiss.

you breathed out, finally breaking away. "jason," you whispered. "we really shouldn't."

"i need you, y/n. i...fuck." he ran a frustrated hand through his hair before desperately shoving his face back into yours, keeping you close to him.

he wrapped a hand around your waist and cupped one around the back of your neck. as if he could keep pushing you closer to him. as if he could never be close enough.

your face scrunched with desperation as he trailed a finger along the bare skin of your neck, threatening to undo every bit of you.

you moaned, but it was cut off by the bathroom door slamming open.

your eyes flared with fear as you and jason broke apart from the kiss. he pressed your back to his chest, sitting down on the toilet so you could rest on his lap. you kept your legs up so it appeared only one person was in the stall.

slowly, jason moved a hand to your mouth, silencing your shuddering breaths.

"quiet, now," he whispered.

there was a shuffle, another set of footsteps entering before, within a few minutes, both were gone. shakily, you turned to jason.

your eyes flickered with need.

"oh," he said, a teasing smile crossing his face. his voice was still dropped to a barely audible whisper. "now you want to go home?"

he could tell just from the look in your eyes.

you nodded sheepishly.

"we'll let kori and dick know." he shot you a winner's smile. one letting you know he'd trumped over you entirely. "don't worry, you can throw me under the bus and say i was having a mental breakdown or something."

you ruffled a hand through his dark hair. "there, now it really looks like you were going through it." you chuckled.

"home?" he whispered in your ear. "then i won't have to cover your damn mouth."

his voice sent shivers down your spine. "mhm..." your voice was a mere squeak. "home..."

you just needed to sneak the hell out of this damn bathroom, and if it wasn't soon, you and jason both weren't sure how long you'd be able to keep your hands off one another.

---

UNEDITED!

[teklarn]

doodle - k. bakugou

teklarn’s cliche’s and tropes masterlist (trope: one bed trope)

katsuki bakugou x gn! reader

genre: fluffy? (a pinch of angst?)

summary: on a mission, you ask bakugou where he got his scars from, and in turn, you open up about yours.

warnings: slight descriptions of body horror, aged up characters for the sake of the plot (no smut) TW! for scars (mostly from fictional battles, etc), the reader has a dead father, bakugou is a little ooc, pre-existing unspoken feelings between reader and bakugou

-

it was a group mission. you'd all been traveling for some time―you, kirishima, bakugou, midoriya, and uraraka. as the world's top heroes, you'd been assigned to work with them as a team to hunt down a villain who had currently been rampaging around.

his whereabouts were unknown, but everyday you all got closer to finding him.

the team had stopped in a cabin for the night, hidden deep in between a lush array of evergreens casting shadows along the roof.

initially, you'd been nervous to cooperate with bakugou. everyone else on the team had partnered with you one time or another, but you had only known bakugou by name, never in person. not until now.

and he was quieter than you imagined. constantly on edge, but quiet. a certain peace settled around him, one that had not been in place until his adult years.

he was an admirable hero, and since becoming one, he listened to others more than he spoke. either that, or he truly didn't care to speak much at all.

there were only two rooms. uraraka and midoriya in one, (as everyone had assumed), and kirishima volunteered to take the couch, knowing bakugou was too much of a princess to take it himself, and he wasn't about to allow you to take it in his place.

kirishima had always been kind, as you had been, too.

but that unfortunately left you and bakugou with the one room-one bed situation.

and unfortunately, the rest of the team was oblivious to the tension building between you. like two ropes twining together, tighter and tighter wrapping around, only to snap from the sheer force of pulling on one another.

there was a part of him that was...softer around you. you noticed, especially when you were alone with him. his eyes carried a gentle sense in them. and when he was alone with you, they also carried a great deal of sadness in them.

your heart clenched at the sight of it every time.

"we both need a good night's sleep. don't think about sleeping on the floor for the sake of me, got it?" his voice was husky. low. demanding, yet cautious of how he spoke to you.

you were a gentle soul yourself and found your mouth slowing down its words when you were around bakugou.

"okay," was all you said, climbing into bed. "you're sleeping soon too, right?" bakugou was still standing at the closet, rummaging through clothes.

"in a minute." he pulled off his shirt. heat rushed to your cheeks as the sight of his toned, muscled back flexed before you.

as if he felt your eyes, he said, "no need to linger, dumbass." but the word held a softness to it. you smiled, chuckling with a breath through your nose. heat rushes to your cheeks.

"sorry," you mumble. he only chuckles in return. a rare sound for anyone to hear, including you. bakugou was quiet. mean and cruel, but not always. his eyes said more than he dared to speak. it wasn't like when he was younger.

you didn't move your gaze, however. it wasn't the fact that he was incredibly toned, or that his golden skin glittered just right under the low, orange lighting of the lamp.

it was how strangely soft he looked at this moment. his spiky hair, the harsh lines of his face and body. and then, there was a scar trailing all down his back. then another, then another, another and then anoth―

"I said don't linger," he snapped, catching your gaze.

"i...sorry." you wanted to turn away. bakugou still intimidated you. seeing him around kirishima did loosen you up, but he was still bakugou. "i just...wanted to know where you got that scar." though his back was still turned to you, you pointed at the largest one.

it trailed from the top of his left shoulder blade all the way down to his waist, curving around and stopping just before his stomach.

"a fight. how else?" his words were a near, annoyed snarl.

"what fight?" might as well make conversation. you worked best with people you knew.

"a big one. now will you stop prying?" he cracked his neck before shoving a pillow in the middle of the bed, then settling down on his side. he turned to flip the lamp off, but startled at your hand on his back.

just the feather-light touch of your finger made him jump.

"can you not?"

"i barely even touched you."

"you still touched me. this pillow is here for a reason. now go to sleep."

"how did you get this other one?"

he twisted and peered down his back, looking at the second largest scar. this one, similar to the first, curved around his right shoulder blade, but ended right before his inner-arm.

"will you shut up and go to sleep if i tell you?"

"i just feel like i don't know you. i know everyone here but you. and it feels odd to be sharing a bed with someone who i know nothing about. it can be small talk, if you'd rather―"

"i hate small talk."

you nodded. "me too."

he groaned, running a hand through his hair. "fine." he sat up. "the big one? a big battle. the other one was from the same battle. i got smashed into a building and the concrete cut through my suit and into my skin."

you weren't going to pry further, but he held his arm up. "this one, here," he said, pointing to a much smaller scar. it wrapped around the middle of his forearm in a perfect circle. "this is from my final exam as a first-year. i lost my gauntlets and decided to go all-out. the skin was inflamed from the force of my quirk, and the metal of my wrist band ended up cutting into me."

you nod intently. a tired smile made its way to your face. "i got this one from stabbing myself with a pencil when i was a kid." you pointed to your palm, the point right beneath your thumb.

"that's specific," bakugou deadpanned. "are you ready to go to sleep now?"

"i got this one from a burn while i was cooking with oil." you tapped two dots on the inside of your finger. "i was a kid back then, too." you ignored his insistence to get to bed. something told you to keep going.

"i have dumb scars from when i was young and stupid, too. we all do. now, let's go to ―"

"like this one?" you tapped his chest. a thin line of white stretched across the left side of his chest. it was so small, no one would notice it if they weren't up close, but it was evident it was a scar.

"that's from the sports festival. the restraints they put on me were too tight, and i was already cut there thanks to one of icy-hot's blasts. the ice had only nicked me there, but i struggled enough that it worsened the cut."

his cheeks seemed to dust with red at the memory.

"you end up hurting yourself a lot."

"i could say the same thing about you, idiot. who stabs themselves with a pencil?"

"it was an accident."

"how?"

"i don't even remember. but see?" you grabbed a pen from the nightstand. "this is what i used to do with the scars from the oil burns." underneath the two dots, where oil had splashed you, you drew a curved line. a smiley-face.

"that's pathetic," he snorted. but it was still a laugh.

"look," you said. he flinched as you neared him. your eyes reassured him as he leaned in, unsure. your fingertips traced the scar. the straight line was perfect. you drew two lumps, four in total counting the other side. two antennae and some designs.

"what is it?" he grumbled.

"can't you tell? it's a butterfly."

"that's the most demented butterfly i've ever seen."

despite the poison the words were meant to convey, his voice carried no malice. if anything, it sounded like another chuckle. soft, barely there, just like the scar.

you took note of another scar right under his collarbone. you leaned in with the pen again.

bakugou smacked your hand away. "stop doodling on me."

you sat up, the blanket falling from your lap and revealing a flash of your thigh. you didn't miss how his eyes flickered down.

"you have a scar there." he pointed to your thigh. the skin down there twined up and down like lightning. "did you survive a 'big battle' yourself?"

you smiled and chuckled thoughtfully, though the sound held little joy. "a fire."

"burning building?"

"of the sort."

"what does that mean?"

"it was my childhood home."

bakugou paused, as if he had struck a nerve, or dug up something he didn't mean to. you cringed, wondering if the information was too much to share.

"don't worry," you laughed. "no one died. it was before i was a hero. years before. my family and i got out in time. to be fair, i deserve it. i was being stupid."

"stupid? gosh, what a shock."

you nearly smacked him. "i ran back inside when i realized i'd left behind a gift from father."

"is he...?"

"he passed the year before the fire. i was stupid and grieving, so i ran back to go get it. it's this stuffed bear. my first toy as a kid. its neck is quite literally about to fall off, but i love it."

"you are stupid. i bet it's one of those toys people get sentimental about because they're all dirty and discolored. gross."

"it's...yeah, it's exactly that." you pulled the sheets down more to reveal the rest of the scar. it twirled around your calf, and there was a prominent bump on your knee.

"damn. that's...a big-ass burn."

laughter bubbled out of you. "the house ended up collapsing on me, and it crushed my leg. i was in the hospital for months after."

he pointed to the tiny black markings surrounding the scar, his fingertip nearly brushing your skin. you tried to ignore the way it sent tingles up and down your spine. you tried to ignore how he was neglecting the wall of pillows he'd erected between you guys.

"and what's all this?"

"hm?" you shook the flustered feeling out of your body. "oh, that's all pen ink. i like to draw on my scars."

"huh. no kidding." there was silence, then he asked, "why?"

you sighed. "for a long time, i was insecure about the scars i'd gotten from the fire. so i would draw on them to make me feel better. anything. flowers, animals, random doodles. anything to cover it up. eventually, i started to see the scars as less of a mistake but...a part of me that could be made beautiful. if that makes sense. i know it sounds totally fake, but in a way it made me feel better."

bakugou paused for a moment, before he straightened, leaning forwards. he stayed like that: perfectly still, not moving a muscle.

your eyes traced the scars along his back.

"well, dumbass? i'm waiting."

you furrowed your brow until you got the message. the pen in your fingers came to life as you leaned forward, the blue ink spilling along his shoulders in beautiful artwork.

you didn't know how long you'd worked, how many hours or minutes you'd spent in peace and quiet while you traced out flowers and gardens and anything onto his back. but he was quiet, and he was calm.

and for a moment, you could have sworn he muttered a shaky, "thank you."

---

UNEDITED.

i lowkey hate this but whatever.

[teklarn]

doodle - k. bakugou

teklarn’s cliche’s and tropes masterlist (trope: one bed trope)

katsuki bakugou x gn! reader

genre: fluffy? (a pinch of angst?)

summary: on a mission, you ask bakugou where he got his scars from, and in turn, you open up about yours.

warnings: slight descriptions of body horror, aged up characters for the sake of the plot (no smut) TW! for scars (mostly from fictional battles, etc), the reader has a dead father, bakugou is a little ooc, pre-existing unspoken feelings between reader and bakugou

-

it was a group mission. you'd all been traveling for some time―you, kirishima, bakugou, midoriya, and uraraka. as the world's top heroes, you'd been assigned to work with them as a team to hunt down a villain who had currently been rampaging around.

his whereabouts were unknown, but everyday you all got closer to finding him.

the team had stopped in a cabin for the night, hidden deep in between a lush array of evergreens casting shadows along the roof.

initially, you'd been nervous to cooperate with bakugou. everyone else on the team had partnered with you one time or another, but you had only known bakugou by name, never in person. not until now.

and he was quieter than you imagined. constantly on edge, but quiet. a certain peace settled around him, one that had not been in place until his adult years.

he was an admirable hero, and since becoming one, he listened to others more than he spoke. either that, or he truly didn't care to speak much at all.

there were only two rooms. uraraka and midoriya in one, (as everyone had assumed), and kirishima volunteered to take the couch, knowing bakugou was too much of a princess to take it himself, and he wasn't about to allow you to take it in his place.

kirishima had always been kind, as you had been, too.

but that unfortunately left you and bakugou with the one room-one bed situation.

and unfortunately, the rest of the team was oblivious to the tension building between you. like two ropes twining together, tighter and tighter wrapping around, only to snap from the sheer force of pulling on one another.

there was a part of him that was...softer around you. you noticed, especially when you were alone with him. his eyes carried a gentle sense in them. and when he was alone with you, they also carried a great deal of sadness in them.

your heart clenched at the sight of it every time.

"we both need a good night's sleep. don't think about sleeping on the floor for the sake of me, got it?" his voice was husky. low. demanding, yet cautious of how he spoke to you.

you were a gentle soul yourself and found your mouth slowing down its words when you were around bakugou.

"okay," was all you said, climbing into bed. "you're sleeping soon too, right?" bakugou was still standing at the closet, rummaging through clothes.

"in a minute." he pulled off his shirt. heat rushed to your cheeks as the sight of his toned, muscled back flexed before you.

as if he felt your eyes, he said, "no need to linger, dumbass." but the word held a softness to it. you smiled, chuckling with a breath through your nose. heat rushes to your cheeks.

"sorry," you mumble. he only chuckles in return. a rare sound for anyone to hear, including you. bakugou was quiet. mean and cruel, but not always. his eyes said more than he dared to speak. it wasn't like when he was younger.

you didn't move your gaze, however. it wasn't the fact that he was incredibly toned, or that his golden skin glittered just right under the low, orange lighting of the lamp.

it was how strangely soft he looked at this moment. his spiky hair, the harsh lines of his face and body. and then, there was a scar trailing all down his back. then another, then another, another and then anoth―

"I said don't linger," he snapped, catching your gaze.

"i...sorry." you wanted to turn away. bakugou still intimidated you. seeing him around kirishima did loosen you up, but he was still bakugou. "i just...wanted to know where you got that scar." though his back was still turned to you, you pointed at the largest one.

it trailed from the top of his left shoulder blade all the way down to his waist, curving around and stopping just before his stomach.

"a fight. how else?" his words were a near, annoyed snarl.

"what fight?" might as well make conversation. you worked best with people you knew.

"a big one. now will you stop prying?" he cracked his neck before shoving a pillow in the middle of the bed, then settling down on his side. he turned to flip the lamp off, but startled at your hand on his back.

just the feather-light touch of your finger made him jump.

"can you not?"

"i barely even touched you."

"you still touched me. this pillow is here for a reason. now go to sleep."

"how did you get this other one?"

he twisted and peered down his back, looking at the second largest scar. this one, similar to the first, curved around his right shoulder blade, but ended right before his inner-arm.

"will you shut up and go to sleep if i tell you?"

"i just feel like i don't know you. i know everyone here but you. and it feels odd to be sharing a bed with someone who i know nothing about. it can be small talk, if you'd rather―"

"i hate small talk."

you nodded. "me too."

he groaned, running a hand through his hair. "fine." he sat up. "the big one? a big battle. the other one was from the same battle. i got smashed into a building and the concrete cut through my suit and into my skin."

you weren't going to pry further, but he held his arm up. "this one, here," he said, pointing to a much smaller scar. it wrapped around the middle of his forearm in a perfect circle. "this is from my final exam as a first-year. i lost my gauntlets and decided to go all-out. the skin was inflamed from the force of my quirk, and the metal of my wrist band ended up cutting into me."

you nod intently. a tired smile made its way to your face. "i got this one from stabbing myself with a pencil when i was a kid." you pointed to your palm, the point right beneath your thumb.

"that's specific," bakugou deadpanned. "are you ready to go to sleep now?"

"i got this one from a burn while i was cooking with oil." you tapped two dots on the inside of your finger. "i was a kid back then, too." you ignored his insistence to get to bed. something told you to keep going.

"i have dumb scars from when i was young and stupid, too. we all do. now, let's go to ―"

"like this one?" you tapped his chest. a thin line of white stretched across the left side of his chest. it was so small, no one would notice it if they weren't up close, but it was evident it was a scar.

"that's from the sports festival. the restraints they put on me were too tight, and i was already cut there thanks to one of icy-hot's blasts. the ice had only nicked me there, but i struggled enough that it worsened the cut."

his cheeks seemed to dust with red at the memory.

"you end up hurting yourself a lot."

"i could say the same thing about you, idiot. who stabs themselves with a pencil?"

"it was an accident."

"how?"

"i don't even remember. but see?" you grabbed a pen from the nightstand. "this is what i used to do with the scars from the oil burns." underneath the two dots, where oil had splashed you, you drew a curved line. a smiley-face.

"that's pathetic," he snorted. but it was still a laugh.

"look," you said. he flinched as you neared him. your eyes reassured him as he leaned in, unsure. your fingertips traced the scar. the straight line was perfect. you drew two lumps, four in total counting the other side. two antennae and some designs.

"what is it?" he grumbled.

"can't you tell? it's a butterfly."

"that's the most demented butterfly i've ever seen."

despite the poison the words were meant to convey, his voice carried no malice. if anything, it sounded like another chuckle. soft, barely there, just like the scar.

you took note of another scar right under his collarbone. you leaned in with the pen again.

bakugou smacked your hand away. "stop doodling on me."

you sat up, the blanket falling from your lap and revealing a flash of your thigh. you didn't miss how his eyes flickered down.

"you have a scar there." he pointed to your thigh. the skin down there twined up and down like lightning. "did you survive a 'big battle' yourself?"

you smiled and chuckled thoughtfully, though the sound held little joy. "a fire."

"burning building?"

"of the sort."

"what does that mean?"

"it was my childhood home."

bakugou paused, as if he had struck a nerve, or dug up something he didn't mean to. you cringed, wondering if the information was too much to share.

"don't worry," you laughed. "no one died. it was before i was a hero. years before. my family and i got out in time. to be fair, i deserve it. i was being stupid."

"stupid? gosh, what a shock."

you nearly smacked him. "i ran back inside when i realized i'd left behind a gift from father."

"is he...?"

"he passed the year before the fire. i was stupid and grieving, so i ran back to go get it. it's this stuffed bear. my first toy as a kid. its neck is quite literally about to fall off, but i love it."

"you are stupid. i bet it's one of those toys people get sentimental about because they're all dirty and discolored. gross."

"it's...yeah, it's exactly that." you pulled the sheets down more to reveal the rest of the scar. it twirled around your calf, and there was a prominent bump on your knee.

"damn. that's...a big-ass burn."

laughter bubbled out of you. "the house ended up collapsing on me, and it crushed my leg. i was in the hospital for months after."

he pointed to the tiny black markings surrounding the scar, his fingertip nearly brushing your skin. you tried to ignore the way it sent tingles up and down your spine. you tried to ignore how he was neglecting the wall of pillows he'd erected between you guys.

"and what's all this?"

"hm?" you shook the flustered feeling out of your body. "oh, that's all pen ink. i like to draw on my scars."

"huh. no kidding." there was silence, then he asked, "why?"

you sighed. "for a long time, i was insecure about the scars i'd gotten from the fire. so i would draw on them to make me feel better. anything. flowers, animals, random doodles. anything to cover it up. eventually, i started to see the scars as less of a mistake but...a part of me that could be made beautiful. if that makes sense. i know it sounds totally fake, but in a way it made me feel better."

bakugou paused for a moment, before he straightened, leaning forwards. he stayed like that: perfectly still, not moving a muscle.

your eyes traced the scars along his back.

"well, dumbass? i'm waiting."

you furrowed your brow until you got the message. the pen in your fingers came to life as you leaned forward, the blue ink spilling along his shoulders in beautiful artwork.

you didn't know how long you'd worked, how many hours or minutes you'd spent in peace and quiet while you traced out flowers and gardens and anything onto his back. but he was quiet, and he was calm.

and for a moment, you could have sworn he muttered a shaky, "thank you."

---

UNEDITED.

i lowkey hate this but whatever.

[teklarn]

bnha masterlist.

BAKUGOU:

FLUFF:

my beautiful girl

beauty was a fragile thing. growing up beautiful made you delicate. but right now, you were frail. right now, you were ugly. 

brutal, brutal pt. 2

bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you. 

bound to falling in love

what is falling in love with you like?

maroon

katsuki stumbles into his office late at night to find his assistant, you, cleaning the mess that is his desk. unfortunate for him, he’s unable to hide the gash in his abdomen any longer and collapses into your arms, staining your outfit maroon. 

doodle

on a mission, you ask bakugou where he got his scars from, and in turn, you open up about yours.

ANGST:

the art of losing yourself

y/n is beginning to lose themselves to evil, and bakugou is trying to save them and bring them back

begged and borrowed time

childhood crushes, neighbors, best friends... katsuki bakugou moved to a small town, finding the neighbors across the street have a child his age who is relentless in their promises. especially this silly little promise to marry him one day. 

you're not my boyfriend, pt.2, pt.3, pt. 4, pt. 5

bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

you're losing me

what’s it like after the break up, coming back to move all of your memories out of your home? after a nasty break up, bakugou returns to your old, shared apartment to do just that. 

SERIES:

your version of the sky: note, 01 - sunrise, 02 - certain things

MIDORIYA

FLUFF:

-

ANGST:

you would cry too, if it happened to you

y/n realizes going to katsuki bakugou’s wedding was a mistake, but finds something else instead

tell your baby that i'm your baby

izuku and you can’t get away from the unwanted, unspoken feelings lingering between you two. the number one hero is about to get married to someone that’s not you, and unfortunately, you just have to be okay with that. 

DABI

FLUFF:

ANGST:

everything has changed, pt. 2

-

OTHER MASTERLISTS:

teklarn's cliche's and tropes (REQUESTS OPEN)

teklarn's masterlist

DCU masterlist

[teklarn]

you’re losing me - k. bakugou

katuski bakugou x gn!reader 

genre: angst

summary: what’s it like after the break up, coming back to move all of your memories out of your home? after a nasty break up, bakugou returns to your old, shared apartment to do just that. 

you say you don’t understand and i say i know you don’t. we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won’t. 

warnings:  

- - - 

he thought he’d be able to wait another day before packing his boxes. you said you didn’t want to see him, and that this was the only day you would be out of the house. he didn’t think that was necessarily true, there were many reasons why you could be out of the house, but he assumed you just wanted all remnants of his presence gone by the night. 

he’d been staying with a friend for the past week. you calling him to remind him to take his shit out of the apartment was the only proof he needed to know that this was final. 

you two were done. 

he felt sick stuffing clothes into luggages and bags. usually, katsuki was an organized man, but he had little to no energy today. since he hadn’t seen you, everything felt terribly draining. 

katsuki always criticized other people for pinning all of their happiness on one person. it was unrealistic. while a person can make you incredibly happy, isn’t it unhealthy for them to be the only thing that makes you happy? 

loving someone was like a glorified hobby, in a cheap way of explanation. like how a passionate artist might go mad over their paintings, obsessing over small details as if they were memorable freckles on a lover’s face. 

he wanted to convince himself that loving you was some glorified hobby. you were someone who just took up all his time, and he gave you his time in return. but in real life, he has a job. he has a life outside of you. 

he wanted to convince himself that you weren’t his entire world. 

the more katuski thought about it, the more his chest began to clench. he moved to the bathroom, taking all of his hygienic products. all the musky and expensive colognes you’d bought him over past birthdays sitting on a shelf, the near-empty glass containers clinking softly against each other as he dropped them all into a separate bag. 

he doesn’t remember it―is trying not to recall everything that you two went through until finally, you deservedly said the fighting wasn’t worth it anymore. he was negligent about the relationship and had been for some time. 

maybe he just got too comfortable, maybe he forgot how to keep the romance alive. katsuki bakugou wasn’t one for romance at all, but he’d like to consider himself someone for you. and he liked romance, so long as he was romantic with you. 

maybe he just got too strung up with his work, and maybe if you two had been patient and waited out the tribulations after this busy season everything would be okay. 

or maybe he had been so absent in your life within the past year that you just simply...fell out of love with him. which might just be worse than any of the excuses he had been trying to force.

you let him go like he was...nothing. 

maybe you were the only one who realized anything in the relationship had changed. he was too consumed, too comfortable, and too ignorant. too selfish for his own good. katsuki had always been a little too selfish about everything. 

the heartbeat of the relationship had fallen flat. 

bakugou sniffled, forcing tears back as if you’d walk through the doorway at any moment. you wouldn’t be back until later―technically, the apartment was his just for a few more hours. it was his time to reminisce, just a little bit. 

he wanted to scream at himself to do something. you’d been screaming at him to do something, to say something, to make you feel like he’s scared of losing you. you had been asking those simple things of him...for a while. 

as you had been asking for many things from him. 

he felt like an idiot, slapping himself in the face and trying to resist the temptation of getting drunk with his friends and doing something stupid with someone whose name he would never care to say. 

he chuckled, knowing he’d probably mutter your name instead of theirs. he liked the sound of your name. how the syllables rolled off his tongue, how it sounded like home. it brought back the idea of how, even now, he still loved talking about you. 

bragging about you to other people was his favorite pastime. you were his favorite pastime. 

time ticked by as he scribbled down a note, just offering one last goodbye, as if his hopeful attitude would be reciprocated. 

he wanted another chance. 

katsuki took a last glance that the apartment that was now yours. just yours. of all the places he felt you’d be safest, he was glad it was here. 

he flicked the light off, slinging his possessions over his broad shoulder and blinking puffy eyes shut, leaving.

 it pained him too much to think about you, to hope for you. to know that one day, you’d come home with someone else and be happier with them. he didn’t want to have to know about how much happier you’d be without him. perhaps that was another selfish thing he was allowing himself to feel. 

- 

Y/n, 

I want you to know that I love you. I regret what happened, but I don’t blame you for going through with it. I know there is likely no chance of coming back from my mistakes, so I wish you every love, Y/n. I wish you every success and every joy you could ever imagine. 

I hope that I never have to hear anything about it. 

Love, for the last time, 

- Katsuki. 

- 

UNEDITED.

[teklarn]

why did you make katsuki insult the reader so much in your brutal fanfic. Didn’t feel like a romantic x reader fic at all, so gross

first of all, it's bakugou ofc he's going to insult the reader. it happens in so many other bakugou x readers. second of all, the person who requested it was happy with the way I wrote it, and third of all, if you don't like something you don't have to be rude about it. finally, if you're so mad about 'insulting the reader' don't go thru the effort to insult me too, and call my writing gross please

[teklarn]

Can I request Aizawa x reader with "childhood enemies" and "forced to work together" where reader bullied Aizawa in highschool and she starts working as a teacher?

my biggest problem - s. aizawa

teklarn’s cliche’s and tropes masterlist (trope: childhood enemies & forced to work together)

shota aizawa x fem! reader

genre: angst??? 

summary: years after your graduation, you return to UA Highschool as a teacher, wandering the halls you’d once been so fond of. upon wandering said halls, you stumble across the person you least expected to be working with loud teenagers. your former classmate, shota aizawa. it’ll be hard not to ignore your difficult history working so close with him. 

warnings: mild cursing, bullying, implied enemies to lovers (?), UNEDITED. 

l/n = last name

p/h/n = pro hero name

- - - 

he was a quiet, reserved dork. his hair was awfully long and unruly, and at his young age stubble was already beginning to pop from his skin. 

“you ever bother to try to look your age? you look like a thirty-year-old man in a student’s uniform.” 

your classmate―aizawa―shifted in his seat, leaning on his other hand to listen in on the lecture before you. the two of you had been seated next to each other at the back of the classroom, so these whispers weren’t new to him. 

mostly, aizawa ignored you. but there were times when you got underneath his skin. your persistence was always worth it at the end of the day. 

“are you trying to ignore me?” you leaned on your own elbow, mimicking his slumped posture. 

aizawa blinked. you knew he heard you, and you knew that he also recognized the fact that you were awfully close. 

“y/n.” 

the teacher’s voice snapped your attention. 

“yes, sir?” 

“pay attention.” 

“my apologies, sensei. i was just helping aizawa with his notes,” you lied. 

your professor grunted in acknowledgement before returning to the lecture. as his back faced the class again, you nudged aizawa with your finger, leaning over the gap in between the desks. 

“pass me a pencil. i don’t have one with me.” 

aizawa’s dark eyes slid towards you, deadpan as he reached into his pencil case and handed you the writing utensil. you took it without any thanks. 

“the tip is dull.” 

“so?” he shrugged. 

“do you mind sharpening it for me or something?” 

“i don’t have a sharpener.” 

“pfft,” you scoffed, scribbling your name down. “useless.” 

there was another time―there were many times―you remember. he was walking with his head down, eyes trained on the dark floor as the halls buzzed to life, students heading down to the lunch room. 

you thought that, perhaps with the intense faze he was holding to the ground, aizawa would have seen you sticking out your leg just as he passed your locker. 

he didn’t fall on his face, but the boy stumbled, taking a moment to catch his balance before shooting you a distasteful glance which lasted no more than a second. then he continued on his way, making sure to hurry his way down the hall. 

he acted so uncaring. it almost pissed you off. but smaller moments such as this one gave you butterflies. in the seconds he dared to give you a reaction, he was reminded exactly why he shouldn’t. 

even in the training class after that, (in all the training classes you spent together) you somehow managed to always find yourself on a team with him, or with him on the opposing team. didn’t matter which side you played for, agaisnt or with him, you made it hell for him. 

you made everyday absolute hell for him. 

you and your friends. 

perhaps there was another reason why people never talked to him. it couldn’t possibly be because you were the fanciest shit-talker this damn school has ever seen. 

there was something about aizawa that irked the absolute ever-loving shit out of you. it was his unruly hair and unshaved teen stubble and how he never seemed to grow out of his middle school goth phase. it was his attitude and how he never made an effort to make any friends of his own. 

perhaps someone aside from yamada and oboro might speak to him every once in a while. 

- - - 

you wandered through the halls. it had been years, too long you found, that you had last been wandering this school. as soon as you had stepped in, ready to take on your new job, you began picking out all the things that had changed from your time here.

being a teacher at UA wasn't your original dream, however when the opportunity arose, you thought, why not? there's nothing wrong with this. your original job as a pro was great pay, but after suffering from an injury during a villain fight, you'd decided to take on teaching fulltime, at least for a while before you went back to being a fulltime pro-hero. so this was fine, this was great.

it was great until you stepped into classroom 1A and your eyes landed on a familiar head of unruly hair.

aizawa turned to you, eyes unblinking as always. a class of curious eyes stared back at you.

"everyone," aizawa started, "this is l/n sensei. she'll be my student teacher. she's here to assist any of you with anything you might need."

"you're pro hero p/h/n!"

a boy with dark green hair drew your attention. you'd seen his face somewhere before, perhaps on television. you smiled.

"i am."

"you're so admirable! especially your battle strategy. when it comes down to it, I think you're one of the-"

"enough, midoriya," aizawa snapped.

you waved a hand at your former classmate, greeting him almost as a friend. "don't be silly, he can ask me as many questions as he'd like." you laughed and watched a tiny smile stretch across midoriya's face.

aizawa only glared at your weak attempt at friendship. guilt prodded at your gut.

"i'd like you all to take out your textbooks. please flip to page one-ninety. we'll call numbers randomly and read the rest of the passage aloud. l/n, please take a seat over there, where you can observe the class."

you scoffed playfully. "i know you've been at this teaching game much longer than me, but i'm not completely inexperienced." your jokes were purely just that. jokes.

but aizawa only stared at you with those unblinking eyes until you set your stuff down where directed and sat.

the rest of the lesson was painfully awkward until you heard the unmistakable voice to yamada.

dressed in his present mic uniform, you watched your successful classmate waltz in.

aizawa looked at him as he slapped him on the back. you smiled. some things never change.

"i think it's my turn to take over this class."

aizawa dusted the chalk off his calloused hands. "all right, class. the rest of the passage is for homework. please read this tonight, and i'll be calling you out randomly to make sure you did."

you put up a hesitant finger. "uh-"

"l/n sensei won't be staying for this class." he turned to you. "you'll be following me. principal nezu wants to greet you."

"of course." you hurried outside, and the class resumed their work.

"you know," you started, "you don't have to be so cold to me."

aizawa remained silent.

"i don't know why you're acting like this. you're so...cut off. awkward, i guess. that's how you're acting. i'm an old classmate." you giggled. "what, is it just because my career was more successful than yours that you-?"

"some things don't change, huh."

you furrowed your brow. "what do you-? this isn't the way to the principal's office."

"no. we're going to my office. i'm the one who wants to talk to you."

"you can talk to me out here, you don't have to make it weird."

he opened his office door and despite your protests, you stepped inside and freely took a seat.

he closed the door and took up the seat behind the desk across from you. "now, listen. this isn't an invitation to be friends. we're working together, that's it. and i need you to respect me, understand?"

"that i do, eraserhead," you mocked.

"that right there is what i mean. you hold no respect for anyone but yourself."

"oh, c'mon, are you kidding-"

"so i need you to shut the hell up, because i'm in charge."

your mouth clamped shut.

"i don't need you nagging, i don't need you pretending like you were my friend. i won't give you the satisfaction of telling you that you made my high school years hell, but i will tell you that i never considered you a friend, and i still don't. i don't think i ever will. there's very few people i would spare my words to, and you i've saved a lot for."

"i'm...flattered?"

"you can't..." red seemed to dust his cheeks.

your fingers twisted together. "you know...i'm sorry."

aizawa was quiet.

"i am sorry because...i was insecure. you were always better in school than me. you were always...i don't know. just...better, i guess? can i say that? i was lucky you didn't envy the spotlight. you would have taken it from me if you did." you chuckled softly to yourself.

"shut up."

you lifted your head. "what?"

"you were my biggest challenge."

"oh, i'm absolutely flattered."

aizawa stood before nezu's office door and glared at you. you hadn't realized how much his demeanor had changed.

he lifted your chin. "i've come to overcome such issues in the past. but there are some i seem to not be able to escape. dealing with you in the next year..." his eyes narrowed. "you're my biggest problem, y/n.

---

UNEDITED.

a/n: i am so sorry this took literal months to get out, i didn't see it because i was off tumblr for a hot second, and then i got into the biggest writing slump i've ever been in i literally could get nothing down. please forgive my tardy completion of this request it's lowkey shit but i had to get it out there :) i love u!

[teklarn]

maroon - k. bakugou

teklarn’s cliche’s and tropes masterlist (trope: patching up wounds)

katsuki bakugou x gn! reader

genre: fluff??? 

summary: katsuki stumbles into his office late at night to find his assistant, you, cleaning the mess that is his desk. unfortunately for him, he’s unable to hide the gash in his abdomen any longer and collapses into your arms, staining your outfit maroon. 

warnings: cursing, blood, light descriptions of body horror (?), cursing, a bit slowburn, brief mention of drug use, UNEDITED

- - - 

lights twinkled outside the window. the city view was breathtaking no matter the time of day. 

it was a late night and an early morning for you. you’d been staying overtime lately, tidying up the mess that was pro-hero dynamight’s office. on any other day or week or month, bakugou was a very neat, organized young man. 

he was done with paperwork a month before it was needed, his deadlines never needed to be pushed back. his hair was, perhaps, the only messy thing about it besides his attitude. 

everyone knew of his rambunctious tendencies as a teen, but he’d calmed down since then. the sneers and glares from across the room were still prevalent, as well as his snappy attitude and short temper. 

it wasn’t a rare occurrence to hear a raspy, angry voice bellowing from the end of the hall. 

recently, bakugou had taken up a project with a few other heroes to take down a villain that had been rampaging the past few weeks. the identity of them was still unknown. citizens had started calling the villain “Kage,” or “Shadow,” reminiscent of the villain’s ability to hide in the shadows of other people, making everyone and no one a suspect at the same time. 

It was impossible to track someone with no certain physical form. the pro’s weren’t even certain of what Kage looked like which only reinforced the strength of their foe. 

the stress was pressing down harder and harder on bakugou’s shoulders. you could tell. 

you were normally decent around him, never giving in to his tendency to draw out an argument (an argument being him lecturing you) or snapping back at him. you kept a nice attitude, you dressed modestly or for the occasion. you were a good assistant. 

but you knew the stress was getting back when it started to affect you. 

you’d been tired lately.

bakugou insisted a bit aggressively that you didn’t need to clean his office. you didn’t need to hover around him like a needy child waiting for the teacher to be off their lunch break. 

he didn’t need you unless he called for you. 

despite those worse, you often found yourself doing more than necessary, even little errands like morning coffee. bakugou was a routine man, never missing a meal. that doesn’t mean he hasn’t ever slipped up once in a while. 

perhaps that was why you were the only assisstant that hadn’t run out of his office pissed off or swiping at fat tears. 

you wanted to do these things for him, not only to ensure your job for the future, but also because he was busy just as much as he was organized. 

he was so organized with his schedule that he would often forget to be organized in other places. 

so here you were, late at night in dynamight’s office shuffling papers into neat piles, segregated into their given genres of work. a sigh fell from your lips, your eyes were tinted with red from the sleep creeping up your shoulders. 

just one more pile to organize and you’d be done for the night. 

too absorbed in your work, you nearly missed the door opening. the familiar shhk of the sliding door sounded. 

bakugou came stumbling in, his legs confused by the weight of his own body, or perhaps the lack thereof. 

“sir? what happened?” you raced towards your boss as he collapsed. 

“what are you doing here, y/n?” his voice was raspy. a hoarse mess of stress and pain. 

“cleaning your office. i thought it would be nice to have a clean workspace in the morning―you should sit down.” 

“yeah...i can do it on my own.” 

he knew what was good for him, prideful as he was. 

“i’ll get some bandages...stay here.” 

“no, no, i’ll be fine y/n.” 

you took in the wound and the red blossom of blood spread across his hero uniform. there was more red than the iconic black and orange blending in. 

the blood was dark, almost a deep deep purple. 

“let me see where you’re hurt.” you started towards him, kneeling to view the wound. you dared to slip your hands past his, fingertips grazing upon each other’s. his uniform was torn, revealing a large gash stretching from his shoulder blade and down the side of his abdomen, ending where his ribcage stopped. 

“i will be fine, y/n. go home.” 

“sir―” 

“go. home. i can deal with this by myself without your incessant nagging.” 

your brow furrowed. “i can’t say that working with you is pleasant all the time, sir, but if you must know, i will lose my job if i don’t tend to you right now.” 

this seemed to take him by a bit of surprise. you were always friendly to him, but you needed to be. for your job. 

“seriously? your job?” 

“i value it a lot, sir.”

“stop. stop, enough with the sir. just bakugou right now, okay?”

“it’s really important we keep a professional environment right now.” 

“aren’t you supposed to be doing what i want?” 

your face sunk into a repulsive attitude. 

“okay, whatever, just...get the first aid kit.” he groaned, adjusting his position in the cushioned seat. patches of blood were beginning to appear on the teal fabric. you made a mental note of needing to clean that up later. or just replace the chair entirely. 

you fetched the first aid kit and hurried back. 

“we should call a doctor right now so you’re patched up by the time the ambulence arrives.” 

“no,” bakugou said, resting a hand on yours as you began to reach for your phone. 

“you need help―” 

“no more sirens for today. please.” 

you nearly jumped back at his manners. 

“i don’t want to hear anymore crying. just need to catch this damn villain.” 

“and you can do that once you’re better, bakugou. so we should call the ambulence.” 

he shook his head. “later. please. i will be fine. i’ve faced injuries worse than this without terrible consequences. it’s bad but it’s not like he pierced anything vital. just think...think of it as a really big papercut. that’s a bit deep. a papercut with a knife.”

you paused for a moment, slowly reaching for the kit and pulling out a disinfectant. you took a cloth and began dabbing some on. 

“can i ask...what happened?” 

“bitch villain can go into people’s shadows ‘n manipulate them and shit. their shadows, i mean. did that to me. right under my nose. i could tell something was off. kept feeling...watched. then I turned around and got scared by my own damn shadow.” he winced as the disinfectant stung him. 

“sorry.” 

“it’s fine.” he looked around the room. at the organized shelves, at the paper stacks on his desk. “you cleaned all my shit up, huh?” 

you mimicked him, glancing around before getting back to work. “yeah. you didn’t seem to have much time on your hands and work has been piling up because of this case. i know you insist you don’t need help but as your assistant i―” 

“thank you.” 

“...what?” 

“i’ve never thanked you for all the shit you do for me.” 

you hid the smile creeping up your cheek. “i like to think of myself as a good assistant.” 

“yeah, you are. don’t let it get to your head, dumbass.” 

you peered up at him and noticed a scarlet tint on his cheeks, almost as deep as the color now staining your hands. it just occurred to you that when he wasn’t yelling and his face wasn’t contorted with rage, he was actually quite handsome. 

he had scruffy hair that told everyone he was still a young man, but the eyes of an old soul. he wore porcelain skin and a sharp jawline like a glass doll would. 

he cleared his throat, setting you off balance for a moment and snapping you back into reality. 

“keep staring, i dare you.” 

you glared up at him, holding his gaze with a rare intensity. you ignored the head rushing to your cheeks, flushing your ears. “must you be so irritable all the time?” 

bakugou, despite the pain in his side, let out a laugh. it filled the room with a warmth you ached to feel again. 

“so you’ve been lying to me this whole time? with the ‘sweet assistant’ act? i feel so betrayed.” 

you’d never seen him so...relaxed. so easy going. it almost reminded you of the light-hearted red riot, a man who seemed to never face any troubles. 

he had dimples, a sweet feature you never imagined someone like bakugou to have. 

“unfortunately, yes. you can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“but only sometimes?” 

you chuckled, blushing. “maybe. only sometimes.” 

“what other times have i not been...a pain in the ass?” 

the simplicity of both of your attitudes seemed to ease his pain just a bit, so you let go of your professional nature and let out another breathy chuckle. 

“well, when you’re not yelling or pissed off, then you’re all right i guess,” you joked. 

“so when i’m not me?” 

you looked up at him. “no, i was kidding...” 

he grinned mischievously. “so was i.” 

“you’re...making a joke?” 

“i take my job seriously. but i need a laugh when i’m fucking bleeding out.” 

you hurried back to work, patching up the wound.

bakugou wasn’t exceptionally nice to you, not that he was to anyone. but he seemed almost...high on something? he wasn’t, as you could evidently tell. but he was all too smiley, too child-like in this intimate presence of yours. on normal days, bakugou wasn’t...nasty to you as he was to other people. 

you averted your gaze down to the kit, pretending to gather gauze to distract yourself from the color of red dusting your cheeks and the crimson gaze of bakugou staring at you, deep as a maroon sea. 

[teklarn]

begged and borrowed time - k. bakugou

teklarn’s cliche’s and tropes masterlist (trope: marriage promise)

katsuki bakugou x gn! reader

genre: angst 

summary: childhood crushes, neighbors, best friends… katsuki bakugou moved to a small town, finding the neighbors across the street have a child his age who is relentless in their promises. especially this silly little promise to marry him one day. 

warnings: cursing, unrequited love, UNEDITED

- - - 

katsuki is a child with chubby cheeks and stubby legs. he remembers the sun that day, beaming down in its last triumph before red and orange leaves would sweep the pavement, a new season coming to claim the place of summer. 

he remembered his mother’s hand dragging him along and the smell of barbecue haunting the air. 

the new house looked old to him now, but he would never forget the feeling of not belonging. not belonging, so new and fresh to the point where he could trick everyone into thinking he belonged all along. 

and, as he came to know as he grew, it wasn’t that hard to fit in when someone else stuck out like a sore thumb. 

because just across the street was another kid, roughly his age, if not the exact same age as him. and they were staring. with chubby cheeks and pouty lips. 

he remembered his mother dragging him along, and for once, he followed along, his steps sloppy up the new steps. 

but before he knew it, there they were. on his driveway, admiring his dad’s truck. 

he tugged his hand out of his mother’s. “get your hands off my daddy’s truck.” 

the child recoiled from the bright blue paint. 

“who are you?” katsuki demanded. 

his mother turned. “katsuki, must you be so rude? that’s no way to treat our neighbors.” 

the child simply smiled and shook their head. the action irritated him, but katsuki stayed silent. 

“my name is y/n. i live across the street with my mom and dad. we’re your neighbors.” your voice was chipper. light and fluffy. it reminded katsuki of clouds. it still did, how airy and delicate and careless you seemed about everything. he never knew how deeply you cared. how you brushed everything off but kept everything close. “what’s your name?” 

his mother reached a friendly hand over his shoulder. “we’re the bakugous. you may call me mitsuki. this is my son, katsuki. excuse his behaviour.” 

you shrugged. “that’s okay. it’s nice to meet you, katsuki. my parents told me to invite you guys for dinner if you’d like that.” you rocked back and forth on your heels expectantly. 

katsuki remembered huffing, cheeks puffing out as he crossed his arms and turned, repulsed. “in your dreams, you sucker.” 

“KATSUKI!” mitsuki swiped at her son, snatching his arm and pushing him towards you. “apologize.” she demanded. “now.” 

his lips stayed shut, his eyes on the concrete he stood on. 

again, you shrugged. so nonchalant. so uncaring. “that’s okay, mrs. bakugou. i understand. he can talk to me when he’s ready.” 

katsuki only scoffed in response before spinning on a heel and tugging his mother’s skirt. “let’s go, mama.” 

mitsuki looked between you and her son. “y/n, tell your parents that we appreciate the offer, but not today. perhaps another time? we’re just settling in today. we’ve got much unpacking to do, you see.” 

“i understand! maybe on the weekend?” 

“how about never?” katsuki snorted. 

“that’s enough now, katsuki. hush.” mitsuki turned back to you. “it was quite nice meeting you, y/n. tell your family we also say hello. i’m sure we’ll see you again soon.” 

chipper, you nodded. “i’ll see you soon, katsuki!” 

- - - 

soon came sooner than expected. because there he was. a blonde, grouchy boy with rosy cheeks on pale skin. he’d come here around six in the evening on a sunny wednesday and was now sitting across from you at your dining table on the evening of the following saturday. 

and he was beautiful. 

you giggled, a childish, sweet sound emerging from you as you toyed with the potatoes on your plate. 

“don’t play with your food, y/n,” your mother whispered, nudging your elbow. 

“i’m not, mama.” 

your mother only raised her eyebrows in question. you smiled innocently and stabbed through the softened skin of your potatoes, stuffing two in your mouth, cheeks full. 

katsuki only continued to stare at you with distaste, sticking his tongue out. 

“that isn’t nice,” you said, mouth full. 

“y/n, talking with your mouth full isn’t nice.” your older brother, eijirou, stuck his tongue back out at you. 

he sat beside katsuki, just as much a bother to him as were you. however, a part of katsuki seemed to tolerate eiji more. 

“you’re not nice,” you retorted. 

eiji was only a year older than you and was just a few months younger than katsuki. 

he tossed a tomato your way. it splattered before you, a mushy pile of red on your plate. 

“hey!” you shot up from your seat. katsuki chuckled to himself, looking approvingly at eiji. 

“eijirou!” your mother scowled. she turned to mitsuki. “i apologize for his outburst. for both of their behaviors. they’re better behaved than this. i know they are.” 

mitsuki only smiled in return. “trust me, my little one is a bit of a nightmare himself.” 

katsuki’s smile faded. “mama!?” 

“if you don’t want me to say anything,” mitsuki bit out at her son, “then don’t act like that.” 

katsuki grit his teeth, seething as his eyes bore down on you. that glare was something you would grow used to in time. the sourness in that gaze was something you would soon grow fond of. while you’d be used to it in no time, while you would soon learn to reply with a scoff or some smart comment, his gaze on you will always leave butterflies in your stomach. 

“sorry, mama,” you shrugged. 

“just be better next time, okay sweetpea? and you too, eiji.” 

you grinned, nodding. your brother did the same, his mouth half-full with rice. 

that was a nice night. 

- - - 

two years later, when you were eight and katsuki was nine, you tried proposing to him during recess on the playground. kids screamed around and pretended katsuki had cooties from you for the rest of the year. 

what hurt your little heart the most, though, was that katsuki had kicked gravel into your face and rejected you. 

- - - 

ten years later, at the sad age of eighteen, when everything seemed to be falling apart. when your teen world seemed to be crumbling at every little mistake you made, all your hope was pinned on one boy. 

the same boy who moved here on that sunny wednesday. 

“will you go to prom with me?” 

katsuki looked at you. at your sad figure in the dark, standing at his door with flowers in your hands. 

“you got me…flowers?” 

“yes.” you shifted the pretty pink florals in your hands, offering the bouquet to him. “i thought you might…like them.” 

“i’ve never been a liar.” he snatched them from your hands. “they’re pretty.” 

“you look very…pretty today katsuki.” he did indeed. the boy was dressed in a suit and tie. the tie was red, complimenting the crimson of his eyes. he was just on the tip of turning nineteen. 

he switched his gaze to you. you, who had dressed your best for this moment. this moment that was perhaps more thrilling than the idea of prom itself. you were already late, missing out on the loud music and your even louder friends. and eiji, who was there with his own date. eiji, who you wanted to watch be a stuttering idiot around the girl he loved. 

you were missing so much already. but it was all worth it. it was all worth it because katsuki was going to say yes. he was finally going to say yes, because you knew exactly what to say. 

you had pried every little bit of information out of your brother in hopes that some little piece of katsuki would finally be known to you. that somehow, through some of that knowledge, katsuki would realize how much you cared, how much you wanted. he’d discover that you guys liked the same music, the same books, the same subjects and had the same dreams. 

“shut up, dumbass,” he snorted, turning. your heart sunk into your stomach, but some poor, stupid part of you was still hanging on to a little bit of hope. and that hope was answered as katsuki paused, his hand on the doorknob. 

he stared at the flowers, a mix of pink and orange. 

you bit your lip, staring intensely at him, at his eyes trained on the flowers. 

perhaps he’d reconsider. you’ve put in all this effort after all these years. he had to at least give you a shot, right? 

“thanks for these, y/n, but―” he looked at you before tossing the bouqet back into your hands, “―i have nowhere to keep these.” 

you caught them, your arms clumsy. some of the brittle petals fluttered to the pavement. “o-oh. i’ll take these back home then…but would you consider? i mean, consider going to the—”

“y/n, no. i’ve had enough. i don’t like you back. i know you’ve been pining over this imaginary friendship, this fake relationship, since we met. but i don’t like you back.” 

- - -

when you were eleven and katsuki was twelve, there was a junior production everyone in grades five to seven was required to audition for. 

surprisingly, katsuki got the role of the prince. you, however, had gotten the role of a servant who worked for the prince. 

eiji had gotten the role of the knight. the prince’s best friend. together they worked to save the princess in every scene and you…you were in five total scenes, only one of which you shared with katsuki. 

you handed him a piece of fake bread in that scene. perhaps it was the only vital role you’d played. 

to give things to him. 

to give things to a person who would never reciprocate. 

but that wasn’t the point. 

you just liked to give. 

- - - 

and up until this point, this point where he said no, this point where he gave everything back, you had no idea that it was possible for him to say no. 

he would call you stupid, call you dumb and boring but he would take whatever it was you gave to him. whether it was a story you wanted to tell him, whether you wanted to share your food, he would just listen and take it. 

but for the first time in your life, he said no. 

“oh, i understand.” 

you paced away, swiping fat tears from your cheeks as you retreated to your car, driving off to your shared school. 

there, the gym was already stuffed with sweaty bodies and loud teenagers. 

a horrible combination, especially for your mood. 

across the gym, you spotted your friends jumping up and down in perfect timing with the beat. 

you weren’t sure why you had come. you could have been back at home. 

but you would have been back at home doing nothing. sobbing, mostly. but nothing at all. you would be dwelling on something in silence.

at least here, maybe your thoughts could wander a little bit. 

you carried yourself to the hallway. there, you stayed. there, you wondered. 

while you knew, all those years when you would jokingly propose to him, when you would take out a ringpop and get down on one knee…while you knew it was all fake, a part of you would hope that one day, it wouldn’t be, and he would say it. 

perhaps there was no difference between love and obsession, but whatever he made you feel, it made you feel happy inside. 

the hall was dimly lit by pink, flashing lights from the gym. students you knew from classes passed by, paying no heed to your figure slumped against the wall. as if you had had too much to drink, or danced so hard your feet were aching more than your heart. 

you didn’t expect anyone to stop by. you preferred it that way. 

but someone did. 

“y/n? i’ve been looking for you.” 

- - - 

katsuki bakugou had never been fond of drinking. he thought it was stupid. thought drugs and alcohol and all the things people did to forget was stupid and that all the people who did that shit were idiots with no future. 

those kinds of people were made of excuses. 

he thought that way, at least, up until now. 

up until now, where he was in a suit, at a table. his plate was shiny and clean, untouched by the sweet wedding cake across the room. 

lights danced across the ceiling, loud music blasting in time with the flashes. 

this time, it was just like prom, but people were fancier. people were more expensive, but just as irresponsible. 

and there was eijirou, in a suit dancing with the same girl―now woman―he had taken to prom that night. except this time, forever for them wasn’t a joke. 

forever for them was truly forever. 

or what it was meant to be, anyways. 

his bride was beautiful. kind, dark brown eyes that complimented her dark skin just fine. 

she was gorgeous. but not the most beautiful in the room. 

but tonight, that’s what everyone would tell her. 

it was a good thing she knew katsuki would never say that. but she assumed it was just because he was an introverted, grouchy twenty-something man invited to his best friend’s wedding. 

the more katsuki thought about the past, the more he began to see how fucked up his thought process was. and how bad it felt to want something you knew you wouldn’t ever be able to have. 

he stared, not that the girl in white, not at her husband who was grinning as she turned around. 

but at you. at all the people lined up behind her. everyone, regardless of gender, wanted to know something. they wanted to know something bad. 

eijirou’s bride smiled wide before shutting her eyes tight and tossing that gorgeous bouquet of orange and pink flowers into the air behind her. 

the crowd of people swarmed, men in suits and women in fancy dresses of every color but white. 

but he ignored their laughter, all their faces. ignored everything because all he saw was you and the bouquet that fell into your hands. like, after all these years, it was your turn. your time. your time to be happy. 

and katsuki was happy for you. happy for you, but angry because you were smiling. smiling at turning towards someone else. 

someone beautiful, someone kind, someone who had chased you before you ever thought of them. 

he had never earned your love. 

yet years ago, you’d given him every last bit of it. 

so here he sat like a fool, wishing that he had cherished those small moments of your love, wishing he’d taken the opportunities to start forever with you. 

but for the first time in katsuki’s life, he felt like he was losing. 

you smiled, eyes landing on someone who had promised to marry you before he ever got the chance to even ask. 

[teklarn]

bound to falling in love - k. bakugou

teklarn’s cliche’s and tropes masterlist (trope: opposites attract)

katsuki bakugou x gn! reader

genre: fluff (drabble) 

summary: what is falling in love with you like?

warnings: UNEDITED

- - - 

katsuki bakugou is a fool in many ways. 

he is so foolishly irritable towards everyone. 

he makes mistakes and never takes accountability for them. 

he’s a bit of a mess. not one you feel obligated to clean up, though. 

because as rude and coarse and short-tempered he is, he’s yours. 

you are a fool in many ways. 

you are so foolishly kind and blind to the cruelty of the world. 

you think everything is your fault, the word ‘sorry’ a constant prayer on your lips. 

you’re a bit of a mess, but not one katsuki feels obligated to clean up. 

because you are apologetic and sweet and caring and he is rough and brash and angry, and you contrast one another so terribly perfect that people find it horrifically annoying. 

because you two balance each other’s wants and needs out. 

you are different in every single way, yet all you’vd ever done, every moment where he was cocky and you were gentle was leading to the moments where you guys would cuddle beside the fire and watch a movie.  

but perhaps the reason you guys get along so well isn’t because you’re so different. it’s because, despite all of that, you guys have the same dreams. 

perhaps it was all planned.

or not. 

perhaps it was just you guys being yourselves and not paying anyone else for it. 

“katsuki? do you think the stars planned all this?” 

“hell no.” 

“i’m glad i fell in love with you.” 

katsuki didn’t care how or when he fell in love with you. you handled his temper like it was nothing and was patient beyond compare. 

whatever it was...stars or gods, the sky or just fate, something was definitely on his side. 

[teklarn]

begged and borrowed time - k. bakugou

teklarn’s cliche’s and tropes masterlist (trope: marriage promise)

katsuki bakugou x gn! reader

genre: angst 

summary: childhood crushes, neighbors, best friends... katsuki bakugou moved to a small town, finding the neighbors across the street have a child his age who is relentless in their promises. especially this silly little promise to marry him one day. 

warnings: cursing, unrequited love, UNEDITED

- - - 

katsuki is a child with chubby cheeks and stubby legs. he remembers the sun that day, beaming down in its last triumph before red and orange leaves would sweep the pavement, a new season coming to claim the place of summer. 

he remembered his mother’s hand dragging him along and the smell of barbecue haunting the air. 

the new house looked old to him now, but he would never forget the feeling of not belonging. not belonging, so new and fresh to the point where he could trick everyone into thinking he belonged all along. 

and, as he came to know as he grew, it wasn’t that hard to fit in when someone else stuck out like a sore thumb. 

because just across the street was another kid, roughly his age, if not the exact same age as him. and they were staring. with chubby cheeks and pouty lips. 

he remembered his mother dragging him along, and for once, he followed along, his steps sloppy up the new steps. 

but before he knew it, there they were. on his driveway, admiring his dad’s truck. 

he tugged his hand out of his mother’s. “get your hands off my daddy’s truck.” 

the child recoiled from the bright blue paint. 

“who are you?” katsuki demanded. 

his mother turned. “katsuki, must you be so rude? that’s no way to treat our neighbors.” 

the child simply smiled and shook their head. the action irritated him, but katsuki stayed silent. 

“my name is y/n. i live across the street with my mom and dad. we’re your neighbors.” your voice was chipper. light and fluffy. it reminded katsuki of clouds. it still did, how airy and delicate and careless you seemed about everything. he never knew how deeply you cared. how you brushed everything off but kept everything close. “what’s your name?” 

his mother reached a friendly hand over his shoulder. “we’re the bakugous. you may call me mitsuki. this is my son, katsuki. excuse his behaviour.” 

you shrugged. “that’s okay. it’s nice to meet you, katsuki. my parents told me to invite you guys for dinner if you’d like that.” you rocked back and forth on your heels expectantly. 

katsuki remembered huffing, cheeks puffing out as he crossed his arms and turned, repulsed. “in your dreams, you sucker.” 

“KATSUKI!” mitsuki swiped at her son, snatching his arm and pushing him towards you. “apologize.” she demanded. “now.” 

his lips stayed shut, his eyes on the concrete he stood on. 

again, you shrugged. so nonchalant. so uncaring. “that’s okay, mrs. bakugou. i understand. he can talk to me when he’s ready.” 

katsuki only scoffed in response before spinning on a heel and tugging his mother’s skirt. “let’s go, mama.” 

mitsuki looked between you and her son. “y/n, tell your parents that we appreciate the offer, but not today. perhaps another time? we’re just settling in today. we’ve got much unpacking to do, you see.” 

“i understand! maybe on the weekend?” 

“how about never?” katsuki snorted. 

“that’s enough now, katsuki. hush.” mitsuki turned back to you. “it was quite nice meeting you, y/n. tell your family we also say hello. i’m sure we’ll see you again soon.” 

chipper, you nodded. “i’ll see you soon, katsuki!” 

- - - 

soon came sooner than expected. because there he was. a blonde, grouchy boy with rosy cheeks on pale skin. he’d come here around six in the evening on a sunny wednesday and was now sitting across from you at your dining table on the evening of the following saturday. 

and he was beautiful. 

you giggled, a childish, sweet sound emerging from you as you toyed with the potatoes on your plate. 

“don’t play with your food, y/n,” your mother whispered, nudging your elbow. 

“i’m not, mama.” 

your mother only raised her eyebrows in question. you smiled innocently and stabbed through the softened skin of your potatoes, stuffing two in your mouth, cheeks full. 

katsuki only continued to stare at you with distaste, sticking his tongue out. 

“that isn’t nice,” you said, mouth full. 

“y/n, talking with your mouth full isn’t nice.” your older brother, eijirou, stuck his tongue back out at you. 

he sat beside katsuki, just as much a bother to him as were you. however, a part of katsuki seemed to tolerate eiji more. 

“you’re not nice,” you retorted. 

eiji was only a year older than you and was just a few months younger than katsuki. 

he tossed a tomato your way. it splattered before you, a mushy pile of red on your plate. 

“hey!” you shot up from your seat. katsuki chuckled to himself, looking approvingly at eiji. 

“eijirou!” your mother scowled. she turned to mitsuki. “i apologize for his outburst. for both of their behaviors. they’re better behaved than this. i know they are.” 

mitsuki only smiled in return. “trust me, my little one is a bit of a nightmare himself.” 

katsuki’s smile faded. “mama!?” 

“if you don’t want me to say anything,” mitsuki bit out at her son, “then don’t act like that.” 

katsuki grit his teeth, seething as his eyes bore down on you. that glare was something you would grow used to in time. the sourness in that gaze was something you would soon grow fond of. while you’d be used to it in no time, while you would soon learn to reply with a scoff or some smart comment, his gaze on you will always leave butterflies in your stomach. 

“sorry, mama,” you shrugged. 

“just be better next time, okay sweetpea? and you too, eiji.” 

you grinned, nodding. your brother did the same, his mouth half-full with rice. 

that was a nice night. 

- - - 

two years later, when you were eight and katsuki was nine, you tried proposing to him during recess on the playground. kids screamed around and pretended katsuki had cooties from you for the rest of the year. 

what hurt your little heart the most, though, was that katsuki had kicked gravel into your face and rejected you. 

- - - 

ten years later, at the sad age of eighteen, when everything seemed to be falling apart. when your teen world seemed to be crumbling at every little mistake you made, all your hope was pinned on one boy. 

the same boy who moved here on that sunny wednesday. 

“will you go to prom with me?” 

katsuki looked at you. at your sad figure in the dark, standing at his door with flowers in your hands. 

“you got me...flowers?” 

“yes.” you shifted the pretty pink florals in your hands, offering the bouquet to him. “i thought you might...like them.” 

“i’ve never been a liar.” he snatched them from your hands. “they’re pretty.” 

“you look very...pretty today katsuki.” he did indeed. the boy was dressed in a suit and tie. the tie was red, complimenting the crimson of his eyes. he was just on the tip of turning nineteen. 

he switched his gaze to you. you, who had dressed your best for this moment. this moment that was perhaps more thrilling than the idea of prom itself. you were already late, missing out on the loud music and your even louder friends. and eiji, who was there with his own date. eiji, who you wanted to watch be a stuttering idiot around the girl he loved. 

you were missing so much already. but it was all worth it. it was all worth it because katsuki was going to say yes. he was finally going to say yes, because you knew exactly what to say. 

you had pried every little bit of information out of your brother in hopes that some little piece of katsuki would finally be known to you. that somehow, through some of that knowledge, katsuki would realize how much you cared, how much you wanted. he’d discover that you guys liked the same music, the same books, the same subjects and had the same dreams. 

“shut up, dumbass,” he snorted, turning. your heart sunk into your stomach, but some poor, stupid part of you was still hanging on to a little bit of hope. and that hope was answered as katsuki paused, his hand on the doorknob. 

he stared at the flowers, a mix of pink and orange. 

you bit your lip, staring intensely at him, at his eyes trained on the flowers. 

perhaps he’d reconsider. you’ve put in all this effort after all these years. he had to at least give you a shot, right? 

“thanks for these, y/n, but―” he looked at you before tossing the bouqet back into your hands, “―i have nowhere to keep these.” 

you caught them, your arms clumsy. some of the brittle petals fluttered to the pavement. “o-oh. i’ll take these back home then...but would you consider? i mean, consider going to the—”

“y/n, no. i’ve had enough. i don’t like you back. i know you’ve been pining over this imaginary friendship, this fake relationship, since we met. but i don’t like you back.” 

- - -

when you were eleven and katsuki was twelve, there was a junior production everyone in grades five to seven was required to audition for. 

surprisingly, katsuki got the role of the prince. you, however, had gotten the role of a servant who worked for the prince. 

eiji had gotten the role of the knight. the prince’s best friend. together they worked to save the princess in every scene and you...you were in five total scenes, only one of which you shared with katsuki. 

you handed him a piece of fake bread in that scene. perhaps it was the only vital role you’d played. 

to give things to him. 

to give things to a person who would never reciprocate. 

but that wasn’t the point. 

you just liked to give. 

- - - 

and up until this point, this point where he said no, this point where he gave everything back, you had no idea that it was possible for him to say no. 

he would call you stupid, call you dumb and boring but he would take whatever it was you gave to him. whether it was a story you wanted to tell him, whether you wanted to share your food, he would just listen and take it. 

but for the first time in your life, he said no. 

“oh, i understand.” 

you paced away, swiping fat tears from your cheeks as you retreated to your car, driving off to your shared school. 

there, the gym was already stuffed with sweaty bodies and loud teenagers. 

a horrible combination, especially for your mood. 

across the gym, you spotted your friends jumping up and down in perfect timing with the beat. 

you weren’t sure why you had come. you could have been back at home. 

but you would have been back at home doing nothing. sobbing, mostly. but nothing at all. you would be dwelling on something in silence.

at least here, maybe your thoughts could wander a little bit. 

you carried yourself to the hallway. there, you stayed. there, you wondered. 

while you knew, all those years when you would jokingly propose to him, when you would take out a ringpop and get down on one knee...while you knew it was all fake, a part of you would hope that one day, it wouldn’t be, and he would say it. 

perhaps there was no difference between love and obsession, but whatever he made you feel, it made you feel happy inside. 

the hall was dimly lit by pink, flashing lights from the gym. students you knew from classes passed by, paying no heed to your figure slumped against the wall. as if you had had too much to drink, or danced so hard your feet were aching more than your heart. 

you didn’t expect anyone to stop by. you preferred it that way. 

but someone did. 

“y/n? i’ve been looking for you.” 

- - - 

katsuki bakugou had never been fond of drinking. he thought it was stupid. thought drugs and alcohol and all the things people did to forget was stupid and that all the people who did that shit were idiots with no future. 

those kinds of people were made of excuses. 

he thought that way, at least, up until now. 

up until now, where he was in a suit, at a table. his plate was shiny and clean, untouched by the sweet wedding cake across the room. 

lights danced across the ceiling, loud music blasting in time with the flashes. 

this time, it was just like prom, but people were fancier. people were more expensive, but just as irresponsible. 

and there was eijirou, in a suit dancing with the same girl―now woman―he had taken to prom that night. except this time, forever for them wasn’t a joke. 

forever for them was truly forever. 

or what it was meant to be, anyways. 

his bride was beautiful. kind, dark brown eyes that complimented her dark skin just fine. 

she was gorgeous. but not the most beautiful in the room. 

but tonight, that’s what everyone would tell her. 

it was a good thing she knew katsuki would never say that. but she assumed it was just because he was an introverted, grouchy twenty-something man invited to his best friend’s wedding. 

the more katsuki thought about the past, the more he began to see how fucked up his thought process was. and how bad it felt to want something you knew you wouldn’t ever be able to have. 

he stared, not that the girl in white, not at her husband who was grinning as she turned around. 

but at you. at all the people lined up behind her. everyone, regardless of gender, wanted to know something. they wanted to know something bad. 

eijirou’s bride smiled wide before shutting her eyes tight and tossing that gorgeous bouquet of orange and pink flowers into the air behind her. 

the crowd of people swarmed, men in suits and women in fancy dresses of every color but white. 

but he ignored their laughter, all their faces. ignored everything because all he saw was you and the bouquet that fell into your hands. like, after all these years, it was your turn. your time. your time to be happy. 

and katsuki was happy for you. happy for you, but angry because you were smiling. smiling at turning towards someone else. 

someone beautiful, someone kind, someone who had chased you before you ever thought of them. 

he had never earned your love. 

yet years ago, you’d given him every last bit of it. 

so here he sat like a fool, wishing that he had cherished those small moments of your love, wishing he’d taken the opportunities to start forever with you. 

but for the first time in katsuki’s life, he felt like he was losing. 

you smiled, eyes landing on someone who had promised to marry you before he ever got the chance to even ask. 

[teklarn]

teklarn’s cliche’s and tropes

one bed trope - 

- two characters (usually the main and their love interest) are placed together in a scenario wherein there's only one place for both of them to sleep.

- doodle - k. bakugou 

enemies to lovers - 

- when two characters start off as enemies and, over the course of a book or series, end up in a romantic relationship.

lovers to enemies - 

- when two characters start off as lovers or friends, (they had some kind of pre-existing positive and healthy relationship) and over the course of the plot end up in a love-hate situationship. 

friends to lovers - 

- a common romantic trope, which involves two people in an established friendship becoming romantic partners.

love triangle - 

- a relationship in which three people are each in love with at least one other person in the relationship.

opposites attract - 

- used to say that people who are very different from each other are often attracted to each other. 

- bound to falling in love - k. bakugou (fluff drabble) 

meet cute - 

- an amusing or charming first encounter between two characters that leads to the development of a romantic relationship between them.

stuck together - 

- There are plenty of variations of the “stuck together” trope, which is often a staple of romantic comedies: two people trapped in a snowed-in cabin, forced to stay with each other overnight at the office, on a road trip, or even stuck in an arranged marriage.

forced to work together - 

- two characters who either like or dislike each other are stuck in a situation in which they are forced to cooperate. 

fake dating - 

- when there is a fake relationship between two people working towards a mutually beneficial goal.

arranged marriage (au) - 

- a marriage planned and agreed to by the families or guardians of the bride and groom, who have little or no say in the matter themselves.

childhood enemies - 

- a subtrope of enemies to lovers where you get that but also they have been enemies since kids

- my biggest problem - s. aizawa (includes ‘forced to work together’) 

marriage promise - 

- the situation in which a character promises to marry another however a situation arises that interferes with the promise, leaving the characters apart until one remembers the promise. 

fics: 

- begged and borrowed time - k. bakugou (angst)

obvious feelings - 

- everyone can see it but two

if i can’t have you, no one can - 

- someone who is lovesick, someone who has been driven to insanity by extreme obsession or love, thus resulting in abnormal behavior if not violence.

second chance - 

- an opportunity to try something again after failing one time 

working with the ex - 

- a situation that forces two exes to reluctantly work together

forbidden love - 

- a romantic relationship between two individuals which is highly discouraged or strongly opposed by a third party, such as the public; either due to cultural, societal, political, or religious reasons.

soulmates - 

- a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner. (meant to be.) 

royalty - 

- ex: servant falls in love with royal

patching up wounds - 

- where one character patches up another’s wounds after a fight, etc. 

- maroon - k. bakugou (fluff)

- - - 

RULES: 

- requests are OPEN!

- i will write more than one fic for each trope if requested 

- i will write for the fandoms listed on the MAIN masterlist 

- all fics will be gender neutral unless requested otherwise 

- if you have a suggestion for a trope, i will add it! 

- you are allowed to apply other tropes to a request! ex: if you request ‘enemies to lovers’ you can apply something like ‘patching up wounds’, etc. 

- i love you and all requests are valid ones, however unfortunately i’m not comfortable with writing smut or poly relationships

- - - 

other masterlists: 

main masterlist

christmas masterlist 

halloween masterlist