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dudeandduchess · 4 years

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Cooking with Kyōjurō: Crème Caramel (Kyōjurō x F!S/O, Modern AU, SFW Scenario)

Summary: While his wife was out, Kyōjurō tried to take matters into his own hands and made crème caramel to surprise her and their daughter. Only, things didn’t turn out as he expected. To make him feel better, his wife took him grocery shopping— willingly, that time. Note: Enjoy, bbys. This was really cathartic to write since I’ve been having so much baby fever as of late. 😌🍉 Word Count: 2,830

***

The moment that (Y/n) entered the house, she immediately knew that something wasn’t right. It wasn’t the blaring music from the kitchen that clued her in to whatever was happening, but it was the silence that accompanied it which had her feeling so unsettled.

Because, usually, the loud music would be accompanied by her husband’s own (horrible) rendition of the sound— just him belting out whichever lyrics that came to mind, while he moved around in the kitchen. But, at that moment, it was too silent for her liking.

So, the young woman looked down at her daughter and readjusted her grip on the toddler’s hand— then put down the paper bags that had all of the clothes she’d gotten for Ran at the mall.

“Mama? What’s wrong?” The little girl asked softly, all while tilting her head up at her mother— whom wasn’t even sure what to answer.

So, (Y/n) forced a smile onto her lips, before shrugging. “We’re just going to surprise papa. So shh.”

Slowly, the mother-daughter pair crept up to the entryway to the kitchen, keeping themselves as quiet as possible as (Y/n) carefully peered around the wall; only to see Kyōjurō at the counter.

Seeing him there wouldn’t have been alarming in and of itself, but the sight of him with his hands cradling his face— as if he’d done something so despicably unbelievable— had his wife rushing over to him with their daughter in tow.

“Kyōjurō! What’s wrong?” (Y/n) asked, worry coloring her tone as she shook her husband’s left shoulder— while Ran got up on the stool right next to her father and tried to hug him as best as she could.

The little girl’s eyes wandered to get a clue of what had made her father sad, and landed right on the array of puffy, gelatin-custard hybrids which were upturned on four different plates.

“Oh, papa made steamed eggs.”

Kyōjurō actually whimpered at that, letting it taper into a quiet sigh as he let more of his disappointment sink in. Even his daughter thought that he’d made steamed eggs.

(Y/n)’s eyes darted over to where Ran was pointing at, lowering her hand down to the blond’s bicep and rubbing it up and down to comfort him. Clearly, it wasn’t steamed eggs— and it wasn’t the Korean variant of Chawanmushi— all because of the lack of vegetables, plus the dark sauce on the top… which suspiciously smelled like caramel. “Oh, baby…”

At her words, Kyōjurō slid both of his hands off his face; readjusting himself so he could pull Ran into his lap. He then pressed a kiss to the top of the little girl’s head, before turning to his wife and leaning in to peck her lips. “I was trying to make crème caramel for you, since you said you were craving for it.”

Panic set in to (Y/n)’s chest, as she resisted the urge to go through her stash of vanilla beans— yet she knew, she just knew, that she would find only one or two bean stalks the jar, instead of the six she’d been saving to use for the ice cream that Ran liked.

She wanted to be mad at him, especially since the closer she looked at the failed crème caramels, the more that she saw the vanilla bean seeds that were dotted all over the puffy messes.

“I don’t get what I did wrong,” Kyōjurō whispered, taking to having his daughter play around with his right hand— pulling his fingers apart and bending them into odd positions.

“Papa’s making a bad finger,” The little girl giggled, as her parents looked down at what she was doing— holding down her father’s fingers with her thumbs, all of them save for his middle finger.

Instead of lecturing his daughter about how that wasn’t appropriate, the blond only laughed before squeezing her into a one-armed hug. “Ah, Ran-chan, you’re too adorable.”

As much as (Y/n) was against their daughter knowing such a thing, she couldn’t put a damper on the identical grins on her husband’s and daughter’s faces. So, she let that one incident slide.

Her gaze flitted back to the supposed desserts on the counter, mentally doing the ingredients that her husband must have gone through, and sighed. “We’re out of eggs, flour, and milk, aren’t we?”

The grin on the blond’s face turned sheepish then, as he perched his chin on top of Ran’s head. “Yes.”

***

No matter what, Rengoku Kyōjurō loved basking in the simple pleasures of life; namely spending time with his family, and getting to cook such nice food on a daily basis. So, to have one of those things somewhat combined with the other had him almost jumping in his seat, as he drove all the way to the store.

Meanwhile, in the back, Ran was singing and dancing in her seat to the Doraemon theme song— with Kyōjurō joining in as enthusiastically as he could.

“An an an, tottemo daisuki,” The blond grinned over at his wife, taking one hand off the wheel and motioning over to her— before stringing her name out in the most obnoxious rendition of the song. “(Y/n).”

(Y/n) swatted his hand away, all while giggling at his childish antics. It was as if he hadn’t accidentally ended up with steamed eggs instead of a custard dessert earlier.

“Alright, let’s set some rules before we get there,” The young woman turned to look at their daughter in the back— whose attention had snapped over to her— then over at her husband, whom had lowered his hand and placed it on her thigh. “No playing hide and seek, or tag, or any other game.”

That was said more for Kyōjurō than Ran, but he acted as if he hadn’t been banned from going grocery shopping with them after what had happened the last time he went with them. “We promise.”

“And no asking your papa to buy you more toys, Ran.” (Y/n) pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, going back to the time when Kyōjurō had used his own membership card to—secretly— purchase the mini electric BMW X6 for their daughter.

They had made their move while she had been busy looking at possible plates to switch out the ones they had at home— and it was safe to say that she was mad at the forty-thousand Yen purchase; all because Ran had wanted to ‘drive papa’s car’.

So, the man had gotten her the mini version of his car— in the same shade of red too— much to his wife’s dismay.

“Are we there yet, mama?”

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

***

Once they got to the store, Kyōjurō had dropped (Y/n) and Ran off by the main entrance before parking the car, so that they wouldn’t have had to walk— as was habit for the three of them when they all went out.

Ran almost looked every inch of an impatient child, while she waited with her hands on her hips— swaying from side to side to entertain herself as they waited for her father. And when she saw him, it was as if he had been gone for a year instead of a few minutes, what with the way the little girl waved her arms above her head and called out, “Over here, papa! We’re here!”

A grin instantly made its way onto Kyōjurō’s face, widening even more when he saw his daughter start blowing him kisses from where she stood beside (Y/n).

He then crossed the street— with more pep in his step than before— and swooped down to pick his little angel up in his arms; spinning around in a circle, even as he felt his back protest at how much heavier she had been getting.

“Ahh! You’re getting so much heavier, sugar plum.”

At her father’s teasing words, which had been uttered with an exaggerated wince, Ran pressed both of her hands against his cheeks— squeezing them tight as she pouted at him. “That’s mean, papa. Mama said that it’s rude to talk about someone’s we... w... how heavy they are.”

“Their weight?” Kyōjurō asked, albeit a bit muffled since his child was still squeezing his cheeks tightly. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

Ran nodded adamantly at that, then leaned up to kiss the tip of her father’s nose. “I forgive you because I love you.”

(Y/n) resisted the urge to gush over how cute her daughter was, as she had caught the tail end of their conversation after having gotten a shopping cart. But she couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged up at the corners of her lips. “If you two are done being all lovey-dovey there...”

Both father and daughter laughed at that, as Kyōjurō set Ran down on the ground and held on to her hand. He would have pushed the cart around, if he didn’t know just how much his wife loved doing that— add in the fact that he wanted to slink away from her so he could get his own snacks.

Because, knowing her, she would put a cap on his snack buying.

With all three of them set, they went inside the store and steadily made their way through (Y/n)’s list— with Ran always wanting to help her mother out in any way she could, which included running over to the shelves and getting things that she normally saw at their house.

Which had gotten awkward when she grabbed a huge bag of mini chocolates; since (Y/n) had been adamant about Kyōjurō not eating anything too unhealthy— for his own sake.

“Why did you get that, sugar plum? We don’t have that at home.” The young man had said with a smile, as he pinched the edge of the bag between his fingers. He tried to pull it out of his daughter’s grasp, only to end up having her hug it even tighter.

“Mama has this in the shoe box in your room. Silly papa.”

The look of betrayal that he shot (Y/n) at finding that out was enough to have her sheepishly smiling and shrugging. “Sorry, baby.”

Immediately, Kyōjurō’s lips turned down at the corners— showing an affronted pout as he reluctantly ushered Ran over to the cart. “Does mama give you chocolate from that box, Ran-chan?”

Ran handed the bag of chocolates over to her mother, then nodded at him. “Mama and I eat it when-”

Before she could say anything more, (Y/n) cupped a hand over her mouth and leaned down to press a kiss to the the top of the little girl’s head. “Papa doesn’t need to know that, sweetheart.”

Definitely, Kyōjurō didn’t need to know that they would snack on the chocolates when he took his afternoon naps— on the days that both of them had the day off. That, or when it was just (Y/n) and Ran at home.

“Oh look, free samples,” (Y/n) blatantly changed the topic, removing her hand from her daughter’s mouth and using the same hand to push her husband’s arm lightly. “Let’s go get some free samples.”

She didn’t even wait for him to answer, merely walked over to push the cart towards the little booth at the end of the aisle. And, thankfully, the girl that was running the booth had greeted them graciously.

Mentally, the Rengoku matriarch apologized to the poor soul that Kyōjurō was going to terrorize.

At first, both Kyōjurō and ran just took two samples each of the cut-up bratwurst— with Ran feeding the other one to her mother with a sweet smile on her face; all while Kyōjurō popped the two portions in his mouth.

Only, the moment all of them chewed on the sample, (Y/n) and Ran adopted pleased smiles on their faces, as Kyōjurō’s expression scrunched up in displeasure.

The wurst had been too spicy for his taste.

He wanted nothing more than to spit the wurst out, but he held back— out of politeness— and forced himself to swallow the samples. Only, the more that he tried to drown out the spicy tingling in his mouth, the worse that it got.

And so, without even saying anything, he raced over to the nearest stack of drinks— which happened to be two-liter bottles of apple juice— and quickly unscrewed the cap off, before downing a considerable amount of its contents.

(Y/n) didn’t even have the chance to stop him, so she resigned herself to most likely getting warned about her husband’s eccentric behavior once they got to the check-out counter.

She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply— and even deeper— when she heard Ran race over to where her father was. All while calling out, “Papa, I want some juice too!”

There was nothing she could do, other than to accept the fact that her daughter was starting to take more after Kyōjurō, rather than her. And that was a cause for worry, since even she had to admit that her husband was a bit on the unconventional side.

When the pair returned— with Ran carrying a half-empty bottle of apple juice in her arms— (Y/n) made up her mind and grabbed her husband by the shoulders. “Don’t touch anything. Just push the cart.”

To which Ran piped up, “Can I ride the cart now, please?”

In a split-second, the young woman made up her mind and was about to lift her daughter into the shopping cart, when a pair of familiar hands picked her up and set her in with what they’d manage to cross off her grocery list so far.

Ran sat down on an empty spot in the cart, cradling the opened bottle of apple juice in her lap, and grinning up at her father. “Papa, I want some chips too.”

Instantly, both pairs of identically fiery eyes darted over to (Y/n)— silently asking her to let them get a couple of snacks. To which she sighed at, before nodding her head. “Fine. But not a lot.”

And that was how they did the rest of their grocery shopping— with Ran and Kyōjurō firmly staying put at the cart, while munching on a bag of chips, as well as a box of cookies, that they washed down with the apple juice.

It wasn’t the most ideal way to get them to behave, but it was the best solution at that moment.

“Baby,” Kyōjurō began, as he ate the chip that Ran had held up to his face. Then, he swallowed that down before continuing, “You never told me what I did wrong with the crème caramel…”

(Y/n) set down three trays of eggs in the cart, right next to Ran whom patted the top most container with a grin on her lips. “Mama, are you making more steamed eggs?”

That had Kyōjurō’s jaw falling slack, as he looked down in disbelief at his own child. He then turned back to his wife— with a pout marring his features— and asked once more, “What did I do wrong?”

“What did you mix it with?”

“A fork.”

(Y/n) simpered at that, then moved away for a brief while to get some milk from the shelves. And once she set them down by Ran’s feet, she turned back to her husband and asked, “Did you beat it like you would a scrambled egg?”

“…Yes.”

“With custards, it’s better to mix them with spatulas. And aerate them as little as possible.”

Kyōjurō scratched his cheek at that, but leaned down all the same to accept another potato chip from Ran.

“You want more, papa?” The little girl asked through a mouthful of the chips, which had her father grinning as he reached down to wipe away the crumbs that were all over her mouth.

“I’m good, sugar plum. Thank you.” He then turned back to his wife— silent at first as he weighed all the options he had with asking her to help him make the dessert. Yet he still kept pushing the cart behind her— following her around as she put in various ingredients that he didn’t even know they were running low on.

Only, she beat him to the punch by answering, “I’ll get more eggs and milk.”

“How did you even know I was going to ask that?” He asked with a laugh, slightly perplexed that she had managed to pick up on his intentions so easily.

“I’m not your wife for nothing.”

“Oh, you’re going to make more steamed eggs?” Ran asked with a giggle, when her mother set down more milk and eggs next to her, which her father answered by making a crab claw with his left hand and tickling her neck.

Loud peals of laughter colored the air where their little family was, which had people looking over and admiring how cute the father-daughter pair looked as Kyōjurō kept on trying to tickle Ran; all while pushing the cart with one hand.

However, their happiness was put to an abrupt stop when the cart slammed against the side of a display— inevitably knocking down the tower of canned beans in the middle of the store.

“Oh no, we did an oopsie!” Ran cried, completely frantic as her eyes darted over to her wide-eyed father.

And from where she stood a few feet away, (Y/n) buried her face into her hands and prepared herself for a lot of apologizing… and possibly getting banned from that store, as well.

#kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #demon slayer x reader #rengoku kyoujurou #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kny rengoku #rengoku imagines #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kyoujurou x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kny x reader #kny imagines #demon slayer imagines #jen writes

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skiijumpinng · 4 years

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Just Forget The World -Lellinger fic

The last weekend was way too emotional not to write a fic about it. Enjoy. :)

The screen showed a bright yellow number one and Stephan felt his lips spread into a smile. He finally managed to do a good second jump and even though there were 7 jumpers still waiting for their turn, he knew he could be satisfied with his performance.

It was a hard weekend behind him and he couldn’t wait to get some sleep. He hasn’t had a well-rested night for weeks and travelling to Japan was not making things any easier. He felt like a couple of hours of sleep were not nearly enough and being the only one in team who valued his sleep and liked to get every minute of it that he could, jet lag really wasn’t his friend. Combine that with a morning competition, and you get what Stephan feels now. Exhaustion.

The others don’t get it, Markus and Karl preferring the morning competitions over the night ones, while Constantin and Pius don’t mind waking up early as well. The only one who understands his struggle though, isn’t there. Andi is even less of a morning person than him. While sharing a room, they would spend at least half an hour waking up.

It was usually Stephan being the first to stir up at the sound of the alarm and even if he knew he shouldn’t, he pressed the snooze button. Turning around in his bed and slowly falling asleep again, it was Andi’s turn to shut the second alarm off. They kept repeating the process without saying a word and after the fifth time of trying to squeeze in another 5 minutes, one of them would finally wake up. It was their least favourite time of the day and even if they knew that the others would make fun of them for being late, they couldn’t care less. They were the only ones who could tolerate each other’s grumpiness in the morning and overhear the annoyed words that none of them really meant.

They could do that, because they got it. And without having someone here who understood his everlasting love for sleep, Stephan had to bear being the only one who was made fun of.

Turning around, he was once again reminded that his roommate was not here. Usually, Andi would be waiting in the outrun and holding open the red gates, smiling brightly and enjoying everyone’s success. But this time, he wasn’t there and Stephan couldn’t share the happiness that he felt when he realised that he became second.

It happened in Willingen all over again. Stephan was sitting on top of the hill, waiting for Horngacher to wave the flag. The atmosphere around him was exhilarating and he all he saw was a sea of german flags that were waving for him.

It was noise and cheering, but Stephan didn’t hear anything.

He remembered his second jump in Titisee, and he knew he didn’t want the events repeating themselves all over again. He missed the podium enough times already and he was determined to do a decent second jump that would get him on the podium. It was his home hill and he had the advantage of knowing it better than anyone else. He knew the long inrun that could be deceiving at the take-off. He knew the ski flying shape of the radius, and he knew he must be quick over the knoll. He knew every little detail, because he trained here since his young age, and he also knew that he was in good shape. He just had to trust himself. ‘Don’t defend, just attack,’ he reminded himself and let go of the gate.

His mind was blank when he jumped. He trusted his body to do the process on its own, without his nerves interfering. He picked up speed on the inrun and pushed himself in the air at the table. They always kept saying that there isn’t enough life in his jumps and the eager wish to prove them wrong was enough to make him put in all the energy he had. He straightened himself in the air and let the wind take over. He saw the green line at the bottom of the hill and desperately hoped he would surpass it. The conditions were hard, but he managed a good landing and let himself be relieved when he heard the loud cheering.

His teammates were waiting for him in the outrun and he desperately wanted not to let them down. But what he wanted even more, was not letting himself down. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest as he waited for the results to come in, and the elation he felt when he took the lead couldn’t be described. To be on the podium in front of his relatives, friends, people he grew up with and other spectators who were there to cheer him on, was simply indescribable.

In the leader box he only had to wait for one more jump. He knew his second one was good, and he secretly hoped that it was enough to keep the lead at the end. But the person that was still waiting on the top was Kamil, and everyone knew he never messed up the second round. But when he landed it was before the green line and everything after that happened way too quickly for Stephan to fully comprehend.

It was people congratulating him, it was noise all around, it was black-red-yellow flags far in the distance, and everything felt like a dream.

Years ago, when he got into the world cup, he didn’t dare to dream about winning a competition. One had to be consistent, have luck with the wind, be precise on the take-off and do a perfect landing for having the chance of winning. It was a silent dream, one he thought was too far away to reach. Up until now he was satisfied with top 10 finishes, always enjoying the atmosphere and the opportunity he had to compete with the best ski jumpers in the world. But ever since that podium in Wisla that surprised everyone, including himself, he craved for more. He knew he could do it, and every time he finished just under the podium, he felt himself get the motivation and confidence he needed. He dreamed of it, but he had never dreamed of getting his maiden world cup victory here, in Willingen, in front of the people he loved and who he knew where there to support him.

The once silent dream became a reality.

People were rushing around him and his teammates, who were now mirroring his wide-spread grin, couldn’t stop hugging him. Everyone was around him, except someone, whose hug would mean a lot more.

He desperately tried to push his thoughts away from Andi, because this was a moment he should enjoy every second of, but all the ‘what if’ thoughts kept coming back.

They’ve talked about this moment for so many times in the last couple of years, Stephan revealing his desires to finally be on the top and Andi attentively listening. He always urged him on and motivated him to trust himself, without letting his nerves ruin his success.

Now, when he was finally listening to his advice and letting himself relax before jumping, Andi wasn’t there.

Stepping on the top of the podium felt exhilarating. His cheeks hurt from smiling and there was still noise in his head, the last couple of minutes repeating themselves all over again. The hymn was loud and people were singing along, while Stephan still tried to comprehend that it was playing because of him. He felt proud and happy, so unbelievably happy, that his heart could burst.

He knew Andi was watching and he hoped he felt proud too.

Andi was cursing his injury over and over again, like he did a countless times in the last months. The competition form Willingen was playing on his tv and his heart was beating wildly before Stephan’s jump. His knuckles were white from crossing his fingers and he couldn’t turn away his eyes. The camera was showing a close-up of Stephan’s face and he couldn’t stop himself from trying to figure out his roommates’ thoughts. He hoped he wasn’t letting his nerves get to him and in his head he repeated all the conversations they had about this moment.

His mind went blank when he watched him jump, and even before the landing, he knew the jump was good. He watched Stephan’s lips spread to a smile and subconsciously mirrored it with his own. He had that energy around him and one could simply not return a smile while looking at him.

When the results came in, he never wished more that he could be there. He watched as others hugged and congratulated him and he knew it was pointless to try to call or send a message. There was chaos around him and Stephan deserved every second of it. He knew that he won’t be able to squeeze him into a hug today and tell him how proud he is, but watching his grinning face that conveyed so much happiness, he knew there will be time for that later.

#i just had to wite something after everything that happened #also this was a work in progress since sapporo as u can see #and it kidna came perfect to add the part from willingen as well #ahhh i miss these two together #also #this is not really a fiction?#i kinda lik writing things as they actually are whil dding a couple of things #but tbh we all know andi was a nervous mess watching this competition #and he definitely wished he could squeeze him into a hug #why am i doing this to myself #hope you like itttt #ski jumping #season 2019/2020 #lellinger #stephan leyhe #fanfiction #andreas wellinger

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agdistis-sanctified · 5 years

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Hey what do you think deadpool’s deadly sin is?

Oh shit, good question! I spent way too much time thinking about this. (This is long, I am so sorry, consider skipping to the end for my conclusion, but it was so fun to ponder.)

SIN BY SIN ANALYSIS

Pride - I think we can safely and easily write this one off completely unless erring on the opposite end of the spectrum to an often crippling degree counts. Even in his most “cocky” moments (e.g. fighting Tasky while handcuffed), pride is not at all his motive and he just correctly assesses his skill level. (Even then, he thought Tasky went easy on him! He underestimates himself.) 0% pride.

Greed - I would say he performs greed, but has stunningly little of it. Sure, he does terrible things “for money,” he enjoys money, he claims to be motivated by money, but money is literally never where his priorities actually lie. He never has the Treasure Planet/John Silver style moments of looking between gold and someone he could save because he never actually prioritizes money in the first place. Money is an excuse, a way to answer difficult questions, and a habit, not something that actually drives him. He routinely gives up money for fun, to get back at people, because he’s simply apathetic, or to help friends (usually without being asked and without getting credit! Completely on his own, he funds the Avengers, refuses to get paid for helping X-Force, buys Outlaw an apartment, pays for Chris’s tuition, and much more). He prioritizes everything but material gain. His most explicit verbalization of this was, off the top of my head, in that amazing Rocket issue where he said he’d rather “belong” than get paid.

Lust - 1. Sex: It is, of course, fair to say that he is happily a horndog, but I’m not sure we can call this a primary driving force or a way he actually errs. I mean, he likes sex, but to a fault? More than anything else? Eeeeh. There are plenty of times that he’s not the one in the room thinking about sex (that moment with Carmelita, which was loosely repeated in the first movie when he paid Vanessa to spend time with him playing skee ball instead of having sex, that time he had sex with Shiklah mostly to “hold her off” because he’d had other things on his mind, the way he initially ignored Outlaw’s flirtations, when he was the one complaining that Gambit was being irresponsible with their job over sex, etc.), and half the time he does mention sex he’s making a joke. We joke that his sexuality is “yes,” and I mean…. of course, but also, eeeeehhh, it’s an option but not what I’d choose of the seven. He’s “vulgar,” on the kinky end, open about sexuality, and enthusiastic about sexuality, but not exactly uniquely sex-driven.

Lust - 2. Love: Counterpoint, “lust” doesn’t have to mean lust for sex. I don’t see any other physical sensations changing my analysis here, but I’ve seen lust for love- apart from anything physical- listed as a form of lust before. If we count that, absolutely, he craves attention to a fault and actually does have to make hard choices between doing the right thing and feeling wanted. Lady Deadpool chose her side of an actual war based on who “wanted” her more and it was clear that 616 Deadpool could have done the same. He was tempted to betray X-Force by affection from “Father.” Spidey once pointed out that, at least at the time, Wade didn’t want to do the right thing, he wanted “to be loved for doing the right thing.” He usually has ~1 person whose approval means the world to him at any given time and he’s prone to making drastic decisions for them (selling Wolverine out to give Siryn her powers back, all of Cable & Deadpool, etc.). There are too many things to list; this is a solid option.

Envy - Early on, back in his villain days, he made some “If I’d had what he had, I’d be different” type comments. He used envy to help justify his bitterness at everyone and his choice not to take responsibility for things he did. More to the point, there was that time he tried to murder Wolverine during a psychotic break almost entirely because he was jealous. As he saw it, Logan wasn’t discarded by even the people that experimented on him, Logan was actually powerful and respected, Logan was forgiven by others for his mistakes, Logan wasn’t ugly, Logan wasn’t mentally ill, Logan wasn’t caught between the human and mutant worlds, Logan was accepted by the X-Men, Logan had friends, Logan was so “”privileged”” that he was going to just throw away everything that Wade would do anything to have, just for revenge, which Wade has rarely felt able to afford. HOWEVER, this is something Wade has successfully grown pretty far past, and even at the time, actually killing Wolverine wasn’t what he truly wanted. He secretly wanted Logan’s approval more than anything and had misplaced “daddy problem” feelings for him, which ties back into my Type 2 Lust argument. He hasn’t really expressed envy or aimless bitterness in years (that I remember??)- he just idolizes and wants to protect the people who are less ‘fucked’ than he thinks he is- but it was an important part of his history.

Gluttony - A lot of what I said about greed and lust apply here. He’s indulgent, but I’m not sure that he’s indulgent enough for me to actually choose this.

Wrath - He’s had temper issues (see: the way he treated Weasel and Al when Weasel came uninvited to his house, his reaction when Typhoid Mary hurt people to lure him into hurting her so that she could mock his attempts to redeem himself, fight > flight style PTSD symptoms unleashed at people like Crossbones), but like with envy, this has mostly decreased over time and isn’t usually a major factor in his bad decisions.

Sloth - This is a lot more compelling of an option than it would seem at first glance, because when he doesn’t do the right thing it’s often about the emotional/psychological difficulty or fear of exerting himself. In many ways, his real demon has always been pessimism-driven apathy and deeply internalized loathing for himself. He tends to know what the right thing is (or at least understands the principle of the thing even if he’s sometimes manipulated into the wrong methods), and he at least always actually wants the right thing, but doing the right thing is hard, he often assumes he can’t change and that there’s no point in trying, he’s scared of failure and making things worse, and he’s frequently tempted to give up based on psychological strain. It’s not so much classic physical slothfulness, though he’s also a Depression Mess™ icon, but on a psychological level, it’s a huge struggle for him. Because this is one of his biggest struggles, it’s also one of his biggest strengths- that it’s so hard for him to keep going and keep trying, but he always does in the end. The fact that that’s one of his biggest recurring themes and strengths is telling.

ALL THAT BEING SAID

I’m going to say, in order, it’s something like:

Lust(for love) and Sloth >> Envy >> Wrath >> Gluttony >> Greed >> Pride

#anon I am so sorry for this novel #I have no impulse control and I'm procrastinating on other things so I let loose #I would be happy to hear thoughts and counterpoints from anyone!#Deadpool #Wade Wilson #Marvel #Mine #Response #Anonymous #Meta #Comics

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sushisama · 5 years

Text

Longing for Clarity, Chapter Seventeen

Pairing. Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku (main, pre-established), eventual one-sided DekuBowl, other pairings hinted at Part. Seventeen/Twenty-Three Rating. Story has overall NSFW tones and mentions, but the sex scenes will be left as side stories. Synopsis. Slice of life AU. Check chapter one notes for details. Katsuki is in his senior year, and though he’s dealing his own questionable mental condition, he can’t help the excitement of the upcoming graduation. But his boyfriend, Izuku, has been acting strange, being almost a little too intimate. They come to find out that Izuku is going through the fermin, a predicament certain Quirk holders go through. Now Katsuki is being forced into considering relinquishing the secrecy of their relationship, if only to keep all he wandering eyes from Izuku. Notes. Katsuki and Izuku get ready for the festival and their coming out. Second Note. I’m still work on this, and I still have every intent on finish it. Thank you for those sticking around. I appreciate it and hope you continue to enjoy!

For those of you interested, there is early access to chapters and access to NSFW side stories available to patrons on my Patreon. Chapter sixteen is already up! Please consider supporting me! Thank you! <3

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Index

Katsuki tapped his foot impatiently. The disinterest on his face was clear as he kept his arms crossed and his eyes anywhere but at the task at hand. He was standing in the middle of the locker room, glaring at the floor, his lips in a deep grimace.

"You have some of the worst clothes, Katsuki-kun," Ashido's voice came from further down the row. She was sifting through a pile of clothes Katsuki had brought down for her to go through.

"Not really something on my mind," Katsuki snipped out.

Ashido came back to him, a few things in her hands. "I just don't understand," she commented as she dropped them on the bench next to him. "How can you live without being presentable?"

"Deku likes it," Katsuki muttered.

"Oh, honey, of course he does." She held up one of his button-down shirts and inspected it. "You could be wearing a rice sack, and he'll still think you're cute. That's how that works." She hummed and picked up a different shirt.

"He'll still notice the difference, though."

Katsuki scoffed. "It's not like it matters."

Ashido looked over at him, brow raised. "Haven't you ever dressed up for him before?"

Katsuki hesitated with his answer. He didn't really dress up ever unless he was forced into it. He much preferred being comfortable over anything fashionable. And he never felt any need to be anything other than that around him: comfortable.

Izuku had never asked for anything more. Sometimes he dressed up a little bit for a date, but it was nothing extreme, just as well-fitting shirt and tighter fashion pants. He always looked wonderful in those outfits, and even Katsuki had to admit he enjoyed it.

But Izuku never brought it up, and on the days he was more presentable, he never side-eyed Katsuki for not doing the same. Now that Ashido brought it up, though, was it something he secretly wanted from him? He just wasn't into that kind of thing, and he figured Izuku understood that. But maybe he should try it. What would his reaction be later in the night, when they went to the festival? He guessed he would base it off that, and try in the future to make more of an effort.

Should he have been already, though?

"Our first date," Katsuki said.

Ashido turned to him fully, holding a pair of pants. Her eyes were full of intrigue, and she clearly wanted him to continue.

Katsuki rolled his eyes but decided to indulge her. "My mother made me," he said. "She wouldn't let me go on that first date with being presentable."

"Your mother knew about it?" Ashido asked. "She knew you were--?"

"She knew I was before I did, according to her," Katsuki said. "She's actually... she's always been supportive about it, never treated it like a phase or anything."

He knew someone already whose family wasn't as understanding, and knew too well what it was doing to him. He was grateful to his parents who never questioned who he was, but just loved him the way he was in almost every facet.

"And when I told her it was with Deku, she was ecstatic."

Ashido chuckled. "She's always approved, huh?"

Katsuki nodded. "She's like him since we were kids, always saying he'd be a good influence on me."

She gave him a knowing smirk before turning her focus back to the clothes. "She sounds wise."

He huffed. "Yeah, yeah."

"So, she made you dress up? Where was the date?"

"It wasn't like formal or anything," Katsuki said. "It was just a little café for coffee and cake." He toed at the ground, ignoring the flush on his face. He had never told anyone these things; it was something left just between him and Izuku.

But there was a point to friends knowing, right? So, you could share these things? Not all memories should be private, he could Imagine Izuku saying. Wasn't it a good thing that happened? Shouldn't others know how far they'd come, how they were happy despite the hurdles they faced?

Katsuki twitched. It was still strange to share things he considered so private. But the smile and the soft expression on Ashido's face eased the tension some: she wanted to hear it so she could show her support. That's what real friends did, just as Kirishima and Izuku did.

He scratched the back of his neck. There was still so much about friendship that felt foreign to him.

"Aww, so cute," Ashido cooed.

Katsuki scoffed. "More like awkward."

She hummed and shrugged. "But still good, right?"

He blinked. It had been good, despite the awkwardness of it all. They hadn't talked much at first, not sure what the topics of a first date contained. It didn't change until Izuku started to nervously talk about the plastic decoration on his pastry, and something about it led Katsuki into a rather silly but still entertaining conversation about food presentation. From there, they eased more into a natural conversation that led to louder voices and laughing.

That stupid piece of plastic could possibly be thanked for things going so well after. How stupid was that?

"I'm going to go ask Eijirou-kun," Ashido's voice invaded his reverie.

He looked up at her, brow raised. "Ask him for what?"

Ashido clicked her tongue but smirked. "You weren't paying attention, were you?" She tsk'ed at him. "And I thought I was distracted by that scent on you."

Katsuki glared a little. When Izuku had come to him the night before, questioning only why he was so upset, he had smelled it on him. Izuku had been in need, but he was too gone in the conversation with his mother to give him any proper attention.

They had stayed up, talking more about Katsuki's mental stability and his mother hiding hers from him. Eventually they moved to Izuku's room to take the kimono and hunt it up. They discussed a little more before falling asleep, and at no time before were they intimate, despite the aroma in the air. They fooled around at some part during the night, but nothing too intense. Katsuki was far from a mood to enable such things, and Izuku wasn't going to push it.

The smell was still in his room, so long after Izuku had last been there. It had been so strong the night before, Katsuki wondered how he controlled himself during his breakdown. He was grateful for it, though: he needed him so desperately, needed the ground he was before he flew too far away.

"I'm going to go see what Eijirou-kun had," Ashido said. "You two are about the same size, right?"

"I guess." Katsuki wasn't completely sure. They looked to be, but he thought Kirishima might have a little more to his chest, but that was about it. Otherwise, they had grown at the same rate and were the same height.

"Stay here," she said. She was already at the door and taking a step out. "I'll be just a few moments!"

Katsuki watched her as she left. The moment she was gone, he let out a long breath. He ran his hands over his face a few times as a groan left him.

He didn't want to do this. It wasn't the dress up or the fuss over makeup that he was bothered with: it just wasn't his thing. He had been with Kirishima and Kaminari too much to not be used to wasting time to being presentable. He had let Kaminari put makeup on him more than once, after all. The attention it would bring him didn't exactly bother him. He was used to eyes on him in public, had craved it on better days.

But when people looked at him, they were at a hero. That wasn't the goal they were going for this time. He wasn't a hero that night, he was Midoriya Izuku's boyfriend. They were deliberately calling attention to that. All eyes would fall on him, and everyone would know.

Katsuki felt sick.

It didn't help that he was still down from the night before. He was still thinking of the night before, of the conversation with his mother, of the words that spilled out to Izuku. Ever fear, every worry, every concern came falling out, after he had spent so long trying to keep it in. It wasn't just the fear of the future, but the vulnerability that fear brought that had kept him holding it in.

But it was foolish of course. There was a part of him that always knew he could tell Izuku. He knew. Like so many things, though, he couldn't bring himself to believe it. But when Izuku held him, let him cry, let him pour out every last thought burrowing into him, he didn't judge. He would never judge him.

Izuku would just be glad to know him.

Being seen as Midoriya Izuku's boyfriend was the least he could do in return for everything he brought to his life. Izuku wanted everyone to know. Izuku held no shame in showing him off, held pride in the idea of holding hands in public. The least, the very least Katsuki could do was give him that.

Katsuki tapped his foot again. How long was she going to take? He wanted to get this over with, get on with it, before he started talking himself out of it.

He pulled out his phone to help keep himself distracted. He found a message waiting for him, and he couldn't help but smile at the name of the sender.

How's the torture going?

Katsuki smirked. Long. I apparently have terrible fashion sense.

The answer wasn't immediate, but still came. You do.

You're not much better.

That's why I let Uraraka and Yaoyorozu take me shopping once in a while.

Katsuki laughed at that. He could always tell the difference between the clothes Izuku already had and the ones he bought with the girls. Both looked good on him, just in different ways. The loose, nondescript comfortable clothes were meant for more casual things or more in-depth activities; where the fashion clothes looked perfect on him without losing any of his masculinity. They showed how taunt his body had become over the years, hinting at the muscles beneath the stylised fabrics.

He was silently grateful for the way they picked his clothes. Katsuki was the one who got to reap the most benefits from it.

I'd hate to see what wardrobe Kirishima or Kaminari would give me.

Maybe let Hagakure and Ashido dress you?

I don't know if that would be worse or better.

"Ba~ck," Ashido called from the entrance of the locker room. She had a few things in her arms and was inspecting them as she walked back to him. "Only so much, though: he has so many colours in his wardrobe, and I just don't think that's you."

Katsuki was silently grateful for the consideration. He wasn't looking forward to any bright colours.

Getting back to the torment, he quickly typed. See you in my room and go from there?

Perfect. Have fun getting dolled up. Love you.

Katsuki put his phone away as Ashido stepped up to him. She held up shirts to his chest, but he wasn't really paying attention to what they looked like. She hummed and considered and finally snapped her fingers. She parted from him as she started to rummage between the two groups of clothes. Finally, she handed him a set. He took it as it was thrusted into his arms, and for the first time, he looked over some of the garments.

"These are leggings," he said, his tone even.

Ashido nodded. "They go under the jeans."

Katsuki furrowed his brow. "These aren't—"

"They're mine," she interrupted. "They'll be short probably, but they shouldn't be too tight."

"What's the point?"

Ashido raised a brow. "The colour?"

Katsuki looked over the garment again. The crease in his brow softened as the understanding fell over him. "...right."

Ashido smiled wide. "Well? Go on!" She shooed him toward the stall area. "Let's see what it looks like!"

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "Stay out here."

"You're no fun," she said with a laugh.

::*~~*::

"The pink looks so good on you!"

"You think? Not too much?"

Uraraka and Hagakure spoke to each other in excited tones, going over their outfits for the festival. Iida had joined them thankfully; giving Izuku someone to talk to while the girls did their own thing. He didn't seem that bothered by any of it, and just smiled and made small comments when asked.

Izuku didn't particularly care either. It wasn't the first time Uraraka had dragged him along or made him sit for makeovers. She liked doing it, and he wasn't one to say no, especially to something so harmless. When it came to the makeup, she was subtle with what she did, giving him more neutral colours that just matched what he was wearing. She took pictures, but only shared them with Izuku.

And then he would share them with Katsuki. He would smile at them, but Izuku was never sure how he really felt about it.

Uraraka spent time with Hagakure first, putting some light, sparkling eye shadow on her that matched a warm honey highlighter. She finished with a soft lip gloss and the look came together to give her an almost ethereal look. She was ghostlike, transparent in everything but her kimono and the makeup. But all of it was warm colours, matching her personality. She was a spirt of good fortune, Izuku thought.

Uraraka had come with her makeup already done. She was covered in shades of pink and blue, all of it light and shimmering. It matched her kimono and the furs she had set aside for the festival. It was clear that some of the blue was for Iida, matching his kimono, and he had come pink in his. It was rather cute, when Izuku let himself think about it. Maybe a little silly, but he could see the appeal of maybe occasionally being so obvious.

After all, hadn't it been part of his decision for the kimono he would wear?

Iida had agreed to a little himself, getting just a touch at the corner of his eyelids. He sat perfectly still and moved as if he anticipated her actions. It wasn't a surprise, though: he'd probably been roped into it even more than Izuku had.

When it finally came to Izuku, it was getting late and closer to when they were supposed to leave. And he wasn't even in his kimono yet, not wanting to go around the dormitory in it. Uraraka had made it clear she only wanted to do a little to him, but was insistent that they do it. He thought it odd, but he wasn't going to speak against it.

She started with his hair, doing as best she could with the unruly locks. There was some attempt to get it flattened, but she settled for getting the most of it into a small ponytail at the top of his head. She accented it with a comb accessory that was almost glass looking and vibrant red. She clipped it in just behind his hair, and he could feel the shorts rows of beads against his skull.

"Isn't this a little too..." Izuku met Iida's eyes, and he could tell he was thinking the same.

"I like it," Hagakure said. "Doesn't it match the kimono you borrowed?"

"Not the only thing that matches," Uraraka murmured.

Izuku looked at her, brow raised. "What do you mean?"

She gave him a wide smile as she held up a colour pallet. "This will only be a moment, I promise."

Izuku held her eyes for only a moment more before closing his eyes. He twitched at the feel of the brush against his eyelid but instantly stilled himself. He always had trouble sitting still during these makeovers. The bristles felt weird, almost like they would fall off in the cosmetics and cling to his lids.

It was even worse when it came to the eyeliner. He was always worried that the pencil would go in his eyes, especially when he was told to open them and look up. Uraraka was always careful, but he couldn't stop the hesitation that came.

How did she do this every day?

"you can relax, I'm done with your eyes."

Izuku let out a long breath. He opened his eyes slowly and looked over at Uraraka. He gave her a small smile. "Thanks," he said. He started to stand up, but he was surprised to find a hand pushing him back into the seat.

"Umm, Uraraka, I still need to get—"

"One last thing." She was smiling as she pulled out a small compact and a flat, fanned out brush. There was something almost mischievous about the look on her face. Mischievous? No, maybe not that... just... knowing? It was more than a little off-putting.

"Just need two seconds."

Izuku gave a reluctant hum, but he kept still. She was honest about how fast it would be done: she took two swipes over each of his cheeks, only separated by passing the brush through the compact. She settled back, looking over him, inspecting him, before she nodded.

"Wonderful."

Izuku turned when he heard a sound of uncertainty from Iida. He looked almost unsure, but hee said nothing.

Uraraka clicked the compact closed as she took steps away from him. While she was putting all of her makeup away, Hagakure leaned in to look over the final result. Though she didn't have it caked on, there was enough of the cosmetics on her face for Izuku to see the worry in her brow.

"Does it look bad?" he asked softly.

She shook her head. "I don't think so, just an odd choice."

"It's meant to match," Uraraka spoke up.

Izuku raised a brow. "Match what?"

Iida's brow knit in some concern. "Should you be so--?"

Uraraka waved him off. She grinned at Izuku. "We'll let you finish getting ready," she said. "You think you'll be long?"

Izuku was still uncertain but forced a smile. "Go on ahead if you want," he insisted. "It'll take me a moment to get my kimono on, and I'd hate to have you wait on me."

"Do you need any help?" Iida asked.

Izuku shook his head. "I'll be fine."

Uraraka picked up her makeup case. "Don't be too, too long," she said. "It should be a fun night. I'd hate for you to miss out on anything." There was something in her voice... she knew something but wasn't saying it...

Izuku stood up and nodded at both of them. "I'll be quick, I promise."

Uraraka smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. She waved at him and Hagakure. "We'll see you soon, then."

Iida waved as well before turning and heading off with his girlfriend. Hagakure chirped a parting and Izuku just gave a wave as they left. He sighed and turned to her.

"It's not that bad, right?"

The earrings swayed as she shook her head. "It looks good," she said. "Subtle, fits you... it's just..."

"What?"

Hagakure paused. "I'm just going to..." She leaned forward and took hold of his chin. She lifted her other arm, sliding down the billowy sleeve to reveal her long sleeved undershirt. She wiped at his cheeks, applying pressure, but not enough to hurt.

"What are you doing?" He didn't stop her but he was stiff as she moved.

It was all but a moment before she was pulling away, having scrubbed his cheeks. She held up her sleeve to show off the cosmetics she was wiping off. He had to stare for a moment to get exactly what he was supposed to be looking at. The colour looked close to something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"I don't--?"

Hagakure waved the white-blue shimmer in his face. "To match."

It was another second before it clicked into place. The colour was just like—

"Was this supposed to match Todoroki's...?"

She nodded.

"...why...?"

"Ochako mentioned... I think she's going to try and get you two alone tonight."

Izuku frowned. Uraraka knew better. She was one of the only people that knew about his brief relationship with Shouto. She knew that it had ended and mostly why, though he left anything about Katsuki out of it, when he came later into the situation. She had always made her opinion known that she thought Shouto was good for him and maybe even get back together. But he wasn't, though he hadn't been honest about why.

That wasn't only because of Katsuki's request of silence. He hadn't been exactly upfront about reasons for the breakup. He had given some excuse about not having time for the relationship, that right then wasn't for the best. He didn't know how to explain that Shouto that didn't... click with him. And it wasn't from a lack of trying. He really had hoped that they could work out, but...

On paper, Shouto would seem perfect. A little aloof and in need of not only getting in touch with his feelings, but learning how to express them. It wasn't like he wasn't into that sort of personality.

Clearly.

But there was something about their time together just felt lacking. No matter the amount of time together, they never got as close as he imagined they would. For the months they were together, they had done little more than hold hands. They had never even kissed.

Katsuki had kissed him to show him how he felt, which led to their current relationship. The difference stood to him, for sure.

"Well, she won't get the chance," he said. "I'm going with Katchan, and no matter how he behaves, I plan on being very honest."

The glint of gloss moved up into a smile. "You two will be so cute tonight," she said. "And no room for questions, right?"

Izuku smiled and nodded. "No questions."

They spent only a few more moments making conversations of where to meet when they got to the festival before parting ways. Izuku went back to the men's side of the dorms to finish getting ready.

It didn't take him too long to get the pieces together and dressed. He was putting the haori on his shoulders as he made his way down the hall to Katsuki's room. He had a large smile on his face a jump in his step.

He was ready and he was excited. He finally got to show off his boyfriend. He got to tell his friends who had been with and for anyone else to get the hint that he was truly off limits.

He just hoped Katsuki would be just as excited.

Izuku knocked on the door. "Katchan?" he called. "You ready?"

"Door's open!" was the answer from the other side of the door.

Izuku came in, closing and locking the door behind him. His eyes fell on Katsuki and he couldn't help but raise a brow. "What are you doing?"

Katsuki came from underneath the bed, a decent sized box in his hands. "Needed to find something," he muttered as he set the box on the bed.

Izuku came further into the room, taking in Katsuki's backside, still bent over some. The jeans he was wearing were tight in all the right ways, and he could tell his shape through his top. He bit his thumb as he thought about the muscles underneath. He was strong, and he could certainly do something with that strength...

"Deku."

"Hmm?"

Katsuki was looking at him, still on the floor. His brow was raised, but he was smirking. Izuku flushed a little. Of course, he knew where his mind was.

Izuku coughed. "What's in the box?" he asked as he sat down on the bed. He barely lifted the lid of the thick and decorated cardboard. He recognised it as something from Katsuki's room back in Shizuoka, under his nightstand. It was just something that was there. Katsuki had never called attention to it, so he had never thought to ask about it.

But Katsuki had brought it with him. Didn't that make it important?

Katsuki crossed his arms on the mattress and put his chin on his forearms. He looked at Izuku from his spot on the floor. "Just some things."

Izuku rolled his eyes. "Things," he repeated. He put the box in his lap and opened it. Katsuki watched him but said nothing and didn't stop him.

The contents were odd at first glance. Pieces of paper, random trinkets, and...

"Is this your cast?"

Katsuki grunted with a shrug.

Izuku looked over the plaster covered in various names and well wishes. He smiled at the tiny hand drown into the palm.

It was strange to have such a strong memory to something that had cause so much pain to Katsuki.

He went through the rest of the box, noticing the ticket stuffs for each of the trains they had gone on for the Tour. There was a folded piece of paper that he found was a test with a high grade marked on it. But it wasn't Katsuki's name on it.

"Why do you have one of Kirishima's tests?"

"It was the first time he scored that well."

Izuku's gaze softened. He knew Katsuki could be sentimental, but he had no idea it could be this much. Even after a lifetime of knowing each other, he was still learning new things about him. He hoped that it would be that way ongoing.

He leaned in to kiss his forehead. "Were you just wanting to look through this...?"

Katsuki moved to sit on the bed next to Izuku. He put his hand in the box and started to sort through it. As he did, Izuku got a better look at his clothes. His dark red shirt was opened at the top, showing a black tank top underneath. His black denim pants had purposeful rips in them, and green fabric showed underneath.

"I was looking for..." He pulled his hand out, a chain in his fingers. He held it up for only a moment before putting it around his neck. "...this."

Izuku eyed the little trinket, a smile playing on his lips. He pulled on the chain lightly until the plastic piece was in his palms. It was a vibrant blue circle that had a piece looping out on top. He recognised it instantly, even if it had been two years since he'd seen it.

"You kept this?"

There was a flush on Katsuki's face. "Shut up."

Izuku chuckled. "It's cute," he said. "It's adorable you kept it."

Katsuki punched him in the shoulder. "I said shut up, nerd."

Izuku still laughed. "Or what?" he teased. "Show me how much more of a sap you are?"

Katsuki growled lightly. He pushed on his shoulders, and the box fell from his lap as he found his back on the mattress. The sound of the contents spilling didn't seem to deter him as he leaned over Izuku's body.

Izuku grinned up at him. "This how you going to do it--?"

"Quiet," Katsuki said before moving in and pressing lips together.

::*~~*::

The sun was starting to set when they got to the festival. It took up the park and spilled out into the streets around with food and game booths. There were snow sculptures everywhere of various sizes and shapes. Lights and music filled the whole area, giving it an almost ethereal presence.

Katsuki already hated it.

"Katchan, you don't have to hold on so tight."

Katsuki looked down at their entwined fingers. "...I won't go through with it otherwise."

Izuku smiled and kissed his cheek. "It'll be fine," he said. "Everything will be fine."

Katsuki grunted.

"Once it's done, it's done." Izuku gave his palm a squeeze. "Then you'll never have to do it again."

Katsuki sighed. He stopped in front of one of the larger sculptures depicting All Might. He looked up at it, his fingers still tight around Izuku's hand.

"Then I just have to deal with what everyone is going to say."

Izuku rolled his eyes. "You're exaggerating." He leaned against his shoulder. "The most people will be is surprised."

Katsuki said nothing, though it was clear he was still uncertain.

"Katchan."

"I'm still going through with it."

"You better." Izuku wrapped his arm around Katsuki's lower back. "Either this, or I'm just going to kiss you in front of everyone."

Katsuki scoffed. "The fuck you will."

Izuku fixed with a stern gaze. "Don't test me, Katchan."

Katsuki clicked his tongue but didn't refute his claim. Izuku had already been so patient, beyond what should have ever been asked of him. He could go in the middle of the crowd and shout about it, and he had no right to be upset about it.

No, this was the best way to go about it. Izuku was right.

Katsuki put his arm around Izuku's shoulder and kissed the side of his head. "This way is fine," he said sincerely. "...and if you want to kiss in front of everyone..."

Izuku nuzzled under his chin. "I won't," he said. "Unless you want to." He smirked.

Katsuki nudged him. "Don't push your luck."

Izuku chuckled. He rested his head on Katsuki's shoulder, silent for a moment.

Katsuki pulled out his phone when he felt it vibrate. There was a message from Kirishima, letting him know where they were amidst asking where they were. He looked around, following the lights to where the majority of the food vendors were located. He couldn't see them through the crowd, but from the directions given, he assumed that's where they were.

"Want a snack?"

Izuku considered that for a moment. "Not really," he said. "I wouldn't say no to a drink, though."

Katsuki let go of his shoulder, but kept a hand on his arm. "I'm going to go check in with the guys real quick," he said. "I'll probably grab something to eat, too. And drink."

Izuku gave him a look, brow raised.

"I won't be more than a few moments." He kissed his cheek. "And then we can go show off."

Izuku's expression softened. "Just say you need a moment first, Katchan."

Katsuki ran a hand through his hair. "...I need a moment."

Izuku smiled, his gaze gentle. "Go ahead," he said. "Besides, they all know what we're doing." He smirked. "They won't let you out of it so easily."

Katsuki scoffed. "Whatever." He was right. If he tried to back out, Kirishima and the others would force him into it. Not to mention, Izuku's threat was still there. "I'll be back."

Katsuki parted with a short kiss and headed off toward the food vendors. He had to go through a crowd to get there. It was just a bunch of people mulling around the centre of the park, admiring various sculptures. He had to push his way past when he couldn't find other ways around.

Was this so worth it for something he could take pictures of?

As he got closer to his destination, there was a large group taking up a walk way. The people on it were all cheering and making a loud commotion. They were excited about something they were all circled around. The sound was familiar, like whenever All Might was in a crowd.

Katsuki groaned and rolled his eyes. It must be some local celebrity. How obnoxious.

He moved, trying to find another way around. It too a moment, but he was able to get around the throng of people and get back on his way. He glanced back at the crowd, having come to the spectacle they were all yammering about.

It was indeed local heroes: specifically Brute Wall and Nabang. They were greeting the crowd, smiling and waving and talking pleasantly. Well, Nabang and one of Brute Wall's sidekicks, Road Train, were talking happily. Brute Wall stood close, her arms crossed over her chest. She was responding to people, but it was clear she didn't really want to be there.

Katsuki couldn't help but empathise with her. He had always wanted the fame that came with being a top hero, but he had found over his time at the UA that it wasn't exactly the way he'd expected. Talking in front of people bothered him when he knew they would talk back. Crowds were too much sometimes, and he didn't know how to handle them when they were too close. Not to mention his worse manias made him worse with people when he wasn't in control of the situation.

He understood why another Hero would hate going into public. It was the whole reason Brute Wall's agency had seemed so appealing to him. Even when she had first reached out to him in second year, he was already looking into it. But then his relationship with Izuku had gotten so deep...

He was making the right choice. He could always find an agency: there was only one Izuku.

Katsuki turned, taking a step forward toward the vendors. He stilled when he thought he heard his name being called. The voice was unfamiliar, though, and he started again, just ignoring it.

He only got a few steps before he was stopped again by a hand on his shoulder. He flipped around, ready to get into a confrontation. He was surprised to find Brute Wall there with Road Train at her side.

"Bakugou Katsuki."

Katsuki finally turned to face them. He nodded in greeting directed at both, but he kept his attention on Brute Wall. She was an imposing figure, almost as tall as All Might and built similarly. Her long, fiery red hair was tied in a long braid with several pins and baubles in it. She wore a masculine kimono in tones of purples and whites.

Road Train was short but had the same kind of build. His black hair was short and spiked, and his dark eyes were almost tired looking. He wasn't wearing a kimono, but still looked good in his button down and blazer.

"What is it?" he asked. He tried to keep his tone even, not let any of his crassness come out, but it seemed unavoidable.

Brute Wall smirked. "I wasn't expecting to see you tonight," she started. It was an odd statement: why would she expect him at all?

"I got dragged along," Katsuki replied. It was honest in most ways.

"Well, since I have you, we could hammer out some details, eh?"

Katsuki raised a brow. "Details for what?"

"For coming to the agency."

Katsuki scoffed. "What are you talking about?" he asked, brow furrowed. "I told you, I can't join the JH. I... I have to stay near Shizuoka."

"Then you shouldn't have said you were accepting the offer," Road Train chimed in. His tone sounded upset, but Katsuki could hardly place why.

"I didn't," Katsuki said with a glare to Road Train. "The last thing I sent was a declination."

Brute Wall frowned. "The last I got from you was reconsidering." She pulled out her phone and skimmed through it quickly before handing it to Katsuki. "See? From yesterday morning." The screen was a wall of text, starting with the subject about the offer and the send from Katsuki's email address.

Katsuki began to read over the characters. It was indeed an acceptance of Brute Wall's very generous offer, but none of the words looked familiar to him. He didn't remember writing this. Where had it come from?

"I was planning on coming by the dormitories on Saturday when you were more likely to be free," she said. "Nabang and I had a few from your year we picked out and were going to talk to. But since you're here..."

"I didn't send this," Katsuki said with a harsh tone.

Brute Wall took her phone back and glanced at the screen. "This is your email address, isn't it? This was sent from you, wasn't it?"

"It is, but I didn't send that email."

"If you didn't, then who did?"

"I don't know, but—"

"Why not just take it?" Road Train interrupted. "The offer is very good, one of the better ones we've given out. There's no reason not to reconsider!"

"Hatsukawa," Brute Wall addressed him. "Calm yourself."

Road Train huffed. "He's the one being ungrateful."

"I'm not being ungrateful," Katsuki snapped. "I have my reasons."

Road Train didn't seem to care for the vague answer. Brute Wall seemed disappointed more than anything. But Katsuki didn't care. His answer wasn't going to change.

"Is there nothing that can change your mind?"

Katsuki shook his head. "No. Not anything that remotely comes to mind."

Brute Wall sighed. "Fine, fine."

Road Train didn't look convinced, but he said nothing.

"If you change your mind, though, drop me a line."

Katsuki nodded, even if he was sure nothing would change.

"Enjoy your evening, Bakugou-san," she said with a wave. "I wish you the best in your career."

Katsuki just grunted in acknowledgement. Road Train opened his mouth to say something, but Katsuki had already turned, heading back toward his original destination.

::*~~*::

Izuku wandered around the festival, enjoying the sights and sounds of the lively decorations and shows. He admired the different sculptures, inspecting the more detailed ones, appreciating the artistry that went into it. He had seen plenty of pictures from the years before, but there was something more when seeing them up close.

Along his wandering, he came to thoughts about the prefecture itself. He had been paying close attention to the area all week, something he always did, but especially in the past couple of days. Since Kaminari had slipped up and told him of the offer Katsuki had gotten, he had reconsidered his own offer from Nabang. Between his fermin and during downtime at work he had looked more into the surrounding area.

He would have to bring it up to Katsuki, which Nabang would be its own trial. Katsuki clearly didn't want him to know about it, so there was the initial anger there. Izuku also wanted to discuss it without bringing up the offer from Yuchoen. He didn't want Katsuki's decision to be based on him anymore than he knew his current on to stay in Shizuoka had been. And though Izuku was just as guilty of making a similar selfish decision, he had to take a step back here. The JH was perfect for Katsuki, and Izuku didn't want their relationship to get in the way of his career. They could withstand some distance, if it came to it. He just needed to see if Katsuki agreed. Their relationship shouldn't be in the way of their careers, but work toward them.

Izuku also wasn't looking forward to Katsuki figuring out about the email he sent. Though he had Katsuki's best intentions in mind, he knew the meddling wouldn't initially be received well. He didn't blame him there, but sometimes he wished he could skip over Katsuki's first response to things and get to what the real conversation was about. He had thankfully gotten better about it over time, but over certain things that would be seen as too personal, Katsuki couldn't control himself at first. He needed to have that first outburst before he could even think about the actual conversation happening.

It was easier to deal with on topics he knew it would come upon. And there were times that anger was even justified, and Izuku didn't mind to let him have it. He was entitled to it, after all. It would just be easier to talk to him if they could get past it quickly and into what really needed to be discussed.

None of this discussion would start off simply, but they needed to have it. He was sure it would end well, it would just take a bit to get to that part. But it would be worth it. That he was sure of.

Izuku walked back to the spot Katsuki had left him at, hoping he had returned. He frowned when he looked around and couldn't find him in the crowd. He figured he would be a while, maybe got caught up talking to his friends, but he was hoping he'd make it back soon.

Hopefully he wasn't losing his nerve.

Izuku sighed. He shouldn't have let him go alone. He could just go back to the dorms if he got too anxious, and Izuku would never even know. No, he wouldn't do that, he wouldn't leave without telling him. At the most, he'd bring it up and maybe try to get out of it for just a moment, but then stop. He would do it for Izuku, no matter what it meant for him.

Katsuki promised. That meant he would do it. No amount of overthinking on Izuku's part would convince him otherwise.

"Ah, Midoriya-san."

Izuku turned, facing who had called him. He found himself in front of the head of the Yuchoen Agency, Nabang. His eyes lit with surprise, never having expected to meet them in such a place.

"Nabang-san, good evening," he greeted with a bow. "What a pleasure to run into you."

Nabang smiled and bowed back. "I'd have to agree," they said. "Have you been enjoying the festival?"

Izuku nodded. "It's wonderful," he said. "Such talent and love went into a lot these, you can tell." His eyes went over few of the closest ones. "It's quite a sight..."

Nabang looked over the same statues. They folded their hands together in front of them and their moth-like wings fluttered a little, shaking off the falling snow. "As long as I can remember, I've always enjoyed this time of year, just for this reason." They turned to look at Izuku.

"We have a lot of things like this here," they went on. "It's a wonderful place to live."

Izuku turned to them, a sincere smile on his lips. He thought the conversation would lead this way, and he was glad for it. He actually wanted to discuss his options with them, see what could come of it. He still hoped Katsuki would take Brute Wall's offer, but it didn't mean he couldn't hear them out in the meantime.

"I'm sure it is," he said. "I'm, ah... been looking at the paces around here."

Their eyes lit up a little at the information. "So you're interested?"

Izuku nodded. "I'm definitely considering it."

Nabang hummed and tilted their head. "Only considering...?"

Izuku scratched the back of his head with a nervous chuckle. "I, ah... am still waiting for an answer from somewhere else." They didn't need to know about his current conflict in full, right? "Not to mention, I've already been accepted to an agency in Shizuoka."

"Is it that much of a better offer than mine?"

Izuku had to pause at that. It was just as good an offer as what Nabang had given him. The benefits were a bit different, but the biggest difference was the change in location. He had looked at so many offers, and one of the things that came out was that they weren't in Shizuoka or Tokyo, and there was something alluring about it. Every offer he would look at the surrounding area and learn about it, gaining an interest in everything not only the job provided but also the city.

...should Katsuki really be part of the decision?

No, of course he should be. It was a selfish thought. They should talk about options, that was true. Izuku shouldn't feel bad about the offers he got. They should be able to have discussions about this. Though it wasn't like there was some spoken embargo on the topic. They just picked their agencies, that not a real discussion just assumed, and that was it.

It was a conversation they should have. Especially now.

"It's a good offer," Izuku admitted. "And... I'm considering it actually."

Nabang's smile brightened. "Is there anything you have questions on? Something to tip the scale?"

Izuku shook his head and gave a wave, but his expression was still soft. "I... I just need to go over a few things," he said. "See if some things would... work, if I accept."

Nabang had something like understanding in their faceted eyes. They nodded and tucked their arms into the fur of their kimono. "Some things have to be arranged, I see." They hummed, their gaze moved to nothing as if something was passing by them.

"Please let me know," they said. "And if you have any... concerns, just email me. We may be able to work something out."

Izuku nodded. "I'll be in contact," he assured. "Either way, I'll let you know."

"I appreciate it." They looked around and back toward a crowd some metres off that had gathered. "I need to get back to Tsuyomi. She doesn't do well in these kinds of things."

Izuku only give a short laugh at the information. "Yeah, I know someone like that."

Nabang chuckled. They gave him a light bow, saying, "Enjoy your evening, Midoriya. I hope to hear from you soon."

Izuku bowed. "You, too, Nabang-san. I'll reach out to you soon."

Nabang smiled and made their leave, heading to the crowd. As they left, people spotted them and started to cheer. They went into the crowd with an almost sereneness Izuku wasn't expecting. What it must be like to be so famous and loved. He had seen many heroes over the years greet their fans so happily, and there was something about it be always envied.

He was excited for his turn for it.

Izuku turned to the path of another set of sculptures. It was a bit away from where Katsuki had left him but closer to the food vendors. It should still be on his way back, so they wouldn't miss each other. If nothing else, they both had their phones. He had made sure of it before they left.

With a hum, Izuku started off to look at more of the carved snow.

::*~~*::

Katsuki despised the smug look on his friends' faces. He walked past Kirishima and Kaminari with a groan and an eye roll, wanting to postpone their negging. He was sure it was inevitable, but it would be easier to deal with if he had something to eat.

"You're late, Bakugou," Kirishima called after, hot on his footsteps.

Kaminari audibly sniffed the air. "And I bet I know what kept him..."

"Shut it," Katsuki growled. They just laughed in response.

Katsuki continued down the aisle of vendors until he came to one with something he wanted. He shushed the two of them as he made his order, telling the cook to put it all in one container. He stepped aside to wait and glared back at his friends. They had started talking amongst themselves, their attention firmly on each other.

Kaminari was close to him, his arm wrapped around Kirishima's bicep. It wasn't uncommon for him to be so affectionate with any of his friends, but it was always different with the red-head.

Kirishima was an idiot.

"Where's everyone else?"

Kirishima looked around before back at Katsuki. "A lot of them are over at the pond skating. I think Hagakure and Ashido are somewhere close by. They were playing some games at the midway."

"Where's Midoriya?" Kaminari asked. "Weren't you two going--?"

"We are," Katsuki interrupted. He ran a hand through his hair. "We are, I swear." He was speaking more to himself than them.

"You okay, man?" Kirishima asked.

Katsuki shrugged. "Whatever." He turned when he heard his order being called out. He took the large paper basket of fried foods with a word of gratitude and came back to the others.

"Aww, he's getting something for his date," Kaminari said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah." He headed off to a beverage vendor he had seen on his way down the aisle. He got in line, muttering, "Might as well make this whole thing worth something."

"The sculptures are nice," Kirishima said. They were still close to him, Kaminari still on his arm.

They looked... good together like that. He almost thought he should mention it, but he didn't want to deal with Kaminari's disappointment when Kirishima inevitably said something stupid.

"Katsuki-kun!"

Katsuki just barely lifted his tray of food above his head as he was bombarded with the weight of layers of clothes running into him. Hagakure gave him an odd, one armed hug before pulling away. In her other hand was her phone, an image moving on the screen and a voice coming from the device. Only a few steps behind as Ashido, grinning as she took his free arm in a similar fashion as Kaminari and Kirishima.

"We were wondering where you were," Hagakure said. Even with the little he could see of her, he could tell she was ecstatic about something. The light makeup on her face revealed her large smile and wide eyes.

"Who's that? Is it Bakugou?"

Katsuki raised a brow and looked at her hand at her mobile. She held it up as though she were taking a selfie. She got Katsuki in the camera's view, and from there, he could see clearly who was on the screen.

"Hey," Ojirou said with a wave.

Katsuki gave a hesitant wave back. "...hi."

Hagakure brought the phone back down and started some conversation with him, getting into it quickly and walking off. He watched her before turning a glance to Ashido.

"So, I guess--?"

Ashido smiled and nodded. "Yeah, everything's... it's better."

The other two looked confused at the conversation, but didn't press anything.

"You never answered my question," Kaminari quipped.

"Which one?" Katsuki was getting to the front of the line. He picked up one of the yakitori sticks, hard as it was with Ashido still on his arm, and took a bite of it.

"Where's Midoriya?"

"Yeah, where is Izuku-kun?" Ashido asked before stealing a bite off his yakitori. "Shou'd'n he be wit' you, sh'n' off?"

Katsuki pulled his food away, only to have Kirishima take a bite of it. He growled and snapped it away from him.

"He wanted to look at some of the sculptures," he said. "I was just going to get this, and then we'll... you know."

"Come out?" Kaminari offered.

"Katsuki-kun's already out," Ashido corrected. "Who would think he's straight?"

"Thank you," Katsuki said sarcastically.

The conversation paused as Katsuki got to the front of the line and made his order. He only got on drink, something large that was more what Izuku would like but he could also stand. Behind him, he heard the three talk, but ignored it as they made his drink. When it was handed to him, he thanked them and led the group away.

"Should we go get him?" Kirishima offered.

"No, I... give me just a second, I'll get him." He looked at his hands and frowned. He couldn’t get to his food like this...

"You're stretching it out," Kaminari accused.

"Shut up."

"You already wasted time getting here," Kirishima added.

"And messed up your makeup!" Ashido was looking over his face with some scrutiny.

"I bet he sweated it off."

"Ha, I bet!" Kaminari agreed. "That's what kept you, after all, wasn't it?"

"I will kill all of you," Katsuki growled.

Kirishima took the basket of food from his hand and stuck one of the takoyaki in his mouth. "Brought it on you's'lf."

Katsuki glared at him and reached for it. Kirishima held it away, and Kaminari took something from it. He growled but stilled for the moment.

They came to an eating area where a few of their classmates sat, talking together in a group. Kirishima and Kaminari headed to them, all smiled and greetings. Katsuki didn't look too thrilled about coming to the others, but he couldn't get out of Ashido's grip without making a scene of it.

Uraraka was talking to Todoroki and Iida when they came up to them. She was quick to turn and greet them, even giving a somewhat genuine one to Katsuki. The other two also acknowledged them, but Todoroki seemed to barely pay attention. He was looking over them, as if he was looking for something.

"You guys get tired of skating?" Ashido asked.

Iida answered, "It was getting a little too crowded."

"And someone was getting anxious," Uraraka said low, glancing at Todoroki.

Katsuki raised a brow as he turned away, something like a blush on his cheeks.

"Do you know where Izuku is, Bakugou?" Uraraka asked him. "Kirishima mentioned he was coming with you."

"He already did," Kaminari said under his breath, getting a snicker from Kirishima and Ashido.

Katsuki shot them a look. The others looked confused. He cleared his throat and said, "He wanted to see the sculptures in the northern part of the park."

Uraraka smiled wide. "Oh, good. I was worried he decided not to come or something silly like that."

"No, he was just waiting on Bakugou's slow ass," Kirishima said.

"Didn't want to come alone, right?" Ashido added.

Katsuki glared at them. He noticed at some point during the short exchange, Todoroki slipped away. Good riddance, he thought.

"Want some?" Kaminari offered the basket of food to Uraraka and Iida.

They both said a word of gratitude and took some of the fried foods.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Running out of excuses, Bakugou," Kirishima teased.

"Excused for what?" Iida asked, his eyes moving between them all.

"Nothing," Katsuki growled. He finally got his arm from Ashido and snatched his food back from Kaminari.

"Might as well, right?" Kaminari mentioned. He took one last stick of yakitori before leaving Kirishima's side to sit down on the table Uraraka and Iida sat at. "No point in keeping it secret anymore."

"...not without Deku," Katsuki said quietly, not looking at any of them.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Katsuki shot a glance at them, staring daggers and willing their silence. So much of this had been beyond his control. The only person he had told was Hagakure, and that was because he felt almost guilty that point he hadn't. This whole night was about control over how they came out. Izuku had even given him this moment away to get ready. It was in his control.

He just wanted to keep it that way.

"Hey, everyone!" Hagakure chirped to the group as she approached them. She was putting her phone into her purse, giving her undivided attention to them all. "What's going on?"

"Bakugou was about to tell us some secret," Uraraka said. She scooted over an let her sit next to her on the bench.

"Oh? What secret?" she asked, though her tone gave her away.

"Oh, you know..." Kirishima led on.

"Quit it," Katsuki snapped. "At least let me get Deku first."

Iida raised a brow. "What do you need him for?"

Katsuki snapped his jaw shut. Thankfully, the others did the same, finally waiting on him to speak.

"Look, it's just... I need to grab him, okay? Just..." Katsuki shook his head. He handed the basket back to Kirishima and turned to leave.

"Ah, Bakugou! Wait a second!"

Katsuki turned, glaring at Uraraka. "What is it?"

Uraraka hesitated. She scratched at her cheek almost nervously. "Um, well.. you just hold up a second."

Everyone was looking at her, their expressions questioning.

"Why?" Ashido asked.

"Well, see... he just needs some time..."

Katsuki blinked. "Who needs time for what?"

"Are you talking about Todoroki?" Hagakure asked.

Katsuki's brow only knitted more. "What about half and half?"

Uraraka looked taken aback by his tone. "He needed to talk to Deku."

"Oh, no, not about--?"

Uraraka looked at her, surprised. "How did you know?"

"Izuku-kun was worried about it..."

"Worried about what?" Kirishima spoke up. He moved closer to Katsuki and put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's not that bad," Uraraka said. "I think it'll go well."

"No, Ochako-chan, I don't think it—"

"What the fuck is going to go well?"

Uraraka gave him a stern look. "It's not really your business."

"I'm pretty sure it is."

Kirishima squeezed his shoulder. "Dude, you're getting a little—"

Katsuki shrugged him off. He took a step away from the group. "That fucking..."

"Maybe you should let Midoriya handle it," Kirishima suggested.

"Yes, you should," Uraraka interjected. "Todoroki had been trying to get him along for a while and—"

"For what?"

"Oh, that was the wrong choice of words," Kaminari mentioned softly.

Uraraka's eyes were wide at the tone of his voice. "He was just—"

"Go after him like a piece of meat?"

"Katsuki-kun, calm down," Ashido touched his arm, but he swatted it away.

He shot her a dirty look. "Let someone else act like it's open fucking season on him?"

"Seriously, man, you know it's not—"

Katsuki broke away from his friends. He said nothing other than growl as he turned from the group and disappeared back into the crowd, Kirishima calling after him.

::*~~*::

Izuku started his way toward the food vendors when time had started to crawl on too long. He had planned to give Katsuki the moment he clearly needed, but that moment was long past due. He was getting worried that he would pull back on his promise, and he just couldn't let that happen.

It was time everyone knew the truth. That, and he just wanted a date with his boyfriend where they could finally act like boyfriends around more than just Katsuki's friends.

He was passing a Mount Lady sculpture when his phone chirped at him. He pulled it out of his sleeve and swiped at the notification.

Where are you?

He raised a brow at the abrupt message. Shouldn't he be asking that of Katsuki? He was the one taking forever to get back to him. Getting food shouldn't have taken so long and he posed his fingers over the screen, ready to tell him so and that he was on his way to him.

"Izuku?"

Izuku looked up, hovering over the barely started message to turn his gaze to Todoroki. He smiled at his friend, lowering his phone after a hastily written response where he was stalled. (The weeping willow next to the bridge, though his text only barely resembled that answer.)

"Shouto." Izuku put his phone away and turned his focus completely on him. He gave him a soft, friendly smile. "Has the evening been good?"

Shouto returned the smile and nodded. "It's been rather enjoyable. Did you just get here?"

"Oh, no, I've been here for... an hour, I think?"

Shouto gave small 'oh.' "Have you been--?" He hesitated, as if he was considering his words.

Izuku tilted his head, but he didn't continue right away. "I guess I got caught up looking at all the sculptures."

Should he mention Katsuki? He almost felt he should, but they promised to come out together. But they were supposed to by now... If it came out, he was sure Katsuki would be okay with it.

Shouto's smile spread a little. "They are something."

Izuku relaxed a little, thankful he didn't press further. "They are!" His excitement was coming back as he looked about at all of them. "I mean, I saw pictures, but looking up close, there's such incredible detail." He glanced back at Shouto. "Isn't it awesome?"

Shouto nodded. "It really is." He put his arms in the sleeves of his kimono as a wind came by.

Izuku shivered and he wondered where Katsuki was.

"Do you know where everyone else is?" Izuku asked. "I wanted to—"

"Izuku, I..." Shouto stepped forward, closing the small distance between them. "Give me a moment? I wanted to talk to you about something."

Izuku took a step back. He tried to keep a pleasant smile to his features, but he couldn't help but fret about where the conversation was going.

No, no, no, don't bring it up, please, please... I don't want to do this...

"Shouto, I really don't think—"

He quieted when Shouto's hands were suddenly on his. His cheeks were flushed, his left hand was too hot and his right hand was too cold. His eyes were stuck on Izuku's and they were so serious.

No, no, no, stop, stop, stop.

"I know we haven't talked about it in a while," Shouto started. "But it's almost graduation, and I just can't... I can't let us part ways without fully discussing it."

Izuku found himself frozen. He was always able to get out of this topic since Shouto only hinted at wanting to talk about it and not actually saying anything. But he was being so forward, leaving no room for him to wiggle out of the conversation without directly engaging in it. He was caught off guard and Shouto was taking advantage of it.

"Izuku, I still... I know we tried, but it really wasn't for that long." Shouto scratched the back of his hands. "And I still, you know... I still like you. I get that before, before we were still getting to know each other, and there was so much going on in the first year..."

Just let him get it out, Izuku thought. You've been avoiding it so long, it's time to just let him have it. He's going on too much now to be cruel.

"...and we could make it work," Shouto went on. Izuku hadn't paid attention for a moment, and he wasn't sure what he missed.

He just knew Shouto was leaning in more.

"I'm not going to be in Tokyo," Izuku said without thinking, as if it would deflect his words.

"But you're staying in Shizuoka, right? That's not far. It wouldn't be that hard to keep up."

Difficult if I go to Sapporo, with or without Katchan.

"This isn't... Shouto, really, this won't—"

Izuku's eyes widened as Shouto made the space between them to press his lips against his. He squeaked against him, his mind spiralling. This was the first time they had kissed, even during their small time together, and it was nothing he wanted anymore.

He had then, but things were far different now.

Izuku was surprised when he wasn't the first to pull away. Shouto was just as quickly away as he was there. He was about to say something, about to correct him, when Shouto was turned around. Before he could say anything, even really think anything, there was a sound of flesh on flesh and Shouto was stumbling back to be caught by Izuku.

The kiss to the sound to Shouto in his arms all happened within a space of just a few seconds. So focused on Shouto, it wasn't instant for Izuku to catch what was going on.

It was the sight of Katsuki pulling his arm back that it connected in his mind what had happened.

"Katchan!" Izuku exclaimed. He helped Shouto straighten up and get his balance back. "Are you okay?" His attention was on Shouto again, looking over his face. He could tell where Katsuki had hit by the red around his non scarred eye.

"Yes, I'm fine, just—"

"What the fuck were you doing, half and half!?"

Shouto shot him a glare. He had removed himself completely from Izuku to face Katsuki. He did not take any offensive action, but his body was tense, ready to defend if he was attacked again.

"I could ask the same of you," he quipped back.

Katsuki's face was red and he was glaring daggers at him. "Stay away from him."

"I think he can make that decision for himself."

"Don't fucking start with me," Katsuki growled, taking a step forward. "I'm sick of you assholes trying to take advantage of—"

"Katchan, it's not like that." Izuku had moved, stepping between the two. He put a hand on Katsuki's chest and pushed him further from Shouto. "He wouldn't... this has nothing to do with that."

This only seemed to aggravate him more.

"Then what is it like?"

"This is between Izuku and me," Shouto asserted.

Katsuki clicked his tongue. "The fuck it—"

"Katchan is my boyfriend," Izuku said bluntly. "So it does concern him."

Shouto looked shocked by the response. Katsuki smirked at the reaction, but it was clear he was still enraged.

"I'm sorry, Shouto," Izuku said with sincerity. "I... should have told you, I know, but..." He glanced to Katsuki.

"How...? But when?"

"Does it fucking matter?"

"Katchan," Izuku chided him. "Shouto, please... we'll talk about this later, okay? I promise, I'll explain everything."

"Izuku..." Something sullen came over Shouto's expression. "Can't we just--?"

"Later." Izuku took Katsuki's hand. "I promise, later." Izuku started to drag him away. "We need to talk."

Katsuki's eyes didn't leave Shouto's face until they were well and away from him. Izuku pulled him through the crowds until they found a secluded spot off the main path and among a few trees.

"Deku, let—"

"What the hell were you thinking!?" Izuku turned to him, his hand falling from his as he pinned him with a livid expression.

Katsuki was initially taken aback by his reaction. He then got his bearings back so he could say, "What are you talking about? He was fucking kissing you!"

"One kiss, one, that I didn't even have time to react to!" Izuku crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not like I wanted it or anything."

"He sure thought you did," Katsuki retorted. "You didn't really stop him from getting the idea he should."

"Oh, fuck you," Izuku said bitterly. "I wasn't expecting him to. And if I hadn't been hiding us, he would have already known! It wouldn't have even come up!"

"Everyone else you could shrug off without saying anything, why is that bastard different?"

"No, I told all of them when they hit on me either about you or at least that I'm taken," Izuku was quick to correct. "And Shouto was different. Shouto wasn't hitting on me because— this has nothing to do with my fermin."

"Of course it does," Katsuki said. "He's been after you for years, and the fermin just—"

"We dated before," Izuku interrupted.

Katsuki fell quiet and his eyes were hard on Izuku. "What?"

"I mean... we went on dates is a better way to put it," Izuku said. "But we were... something like together for a few months during first year." He quickly added, "Before you and I..."

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

"You already don't like him, why add fuel to the fire?"

Izuku could almost hear Katsuki's jaw clench tight.

"I deserved to know."

"Did you?" Izuku's brow furrowed. "Just so you could have another thing to be overly involved in?"

"What are you--?"

"You thought this was just about the fermin, right?" Izuku moved his hands to his sides, his fists balled. "So what were you going to do, swoop in and protect me?"

"Deku—"

"Even if that were true, I can take care of myself!" Izuku's voice rose. "It isn't that bad! So what if people are attracted to me!? They get what 'no' means!"

"Not everyone," Katsuki snapped. "And not everyone can help themselves, especially around yours. And if you listened to anyone, you would know that!"

"Oh, come on." Izuku rolled his eyes. "You're just blowing what everyone has said out of proportion. I doubt anyone has had the problems you're trying to put on them."

"Do you not remember the other night? Where I chased you across town?"

Izuku huffed. Katsuki had told him that he couldn't control it, couldn't help having to 'hunt' him down. But he let himself get that bad. He knew he could with Izuku; that they could be together without inhibition.

Izuku had seen no problem with it. Why couldn't Katsuki let it go?

"That was no big deal. It was fun."

Katsuki let out an angered sigh, and he threw up his hands. "What do I have to say to get through that thick skull of yours!?"

"There is nothing to get other than you don't trust me!"

A silence fell between them, Katsuki's eyes wide and Izuku's brow furrowed.

"You... you don't really think that." Katsuki took a step forward, reaching out for him. "Deku, that... do you really think I don't trust you?"

Izuku stepped back, keeping out of reach. "Isn't that what this is about? You don't think I can help myself during the fermin. You think I'm going to slip up."

"Listen, if you talk to—"

"Isn't that why you pre-emptively forgave me?"

"That..." Katsuki almost seemed to shrink at the accusation. "There's a reason for that."

"So you can think about and justify being so involved?"

"Deku, fuck, just let me—"

Izuku didn't care to hear it. Not now. He was seething. Katsuki meant well, he knew, but punching Shouto was not part of that, it was part of a possessiveness he wasn't entitled to. That wasn't what they agreed to when they said they belonged to each other.

"No, you listen to me, Bakugou."

Izuku ignored how he visibly flinched at the use of his surname.

"I'm not some fragile thing like I was in middle school." His voice was harsh as he spoke. "I don't need protection from anyone. No fermin, no exes, and not from you. I can defend myself. If I don't want it, it won't happen.

"And if you can't understand that, meet me somewhere with it..." Izuku shook his head. He didn't think that but maybe he should start.

"Deku..." There was something desperate in his tone. He made another movement to him.

"Give... give me a moment." Izuku stepped away. He was pulling his phone from his sleeve. "Please... we both should calm down. We need..." He took in a deep breath.

Katsuki kept his eyes on Izuku, his expression almost lost.

"A moment," he reasserted. "We need a moment... Katchan."

Katsuki breathed a small sigh at the return of the nickname.

"...okay, Deku."

Izuku was thankful for his agreement.

"I... I'm going to go find Uraraka," Izuku said softly. "I..." He shook his head. "Later."

Katsuki said nothing, but Izuku could feel his eyes as he walked off, leaving him alone among the snowfall.

#katsudeku #bakudeku #bakudeku fanfiction #bakugou #deku #fermin

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javis-beretta · 6 years

Text

Babygirl

i was craving albert fluff, so here is a fake dating modern au, with my baby boy. (have you figured out that it’s my favourite trope yet?) i also can’t stop thinking of albert calling me babygirl, so there’s that. this is supposed to be set in high school, but i’m getting definite summer after senior year vibes idk. enjoy!

((tw: attempted assault near the end, but it’s not detailed at all))

You didn’t usually spend your free time in bars. The sticky countertops and weird guys were not your speed, even when you were tipsy off of the shots that Race usually ordered. You hoped this bar would be different – if you were a bar kind of person, it was exactly the kind of place you’d pick. It was new, but looked old in that gentrified, hipster way, it was walking distance from your house, so you didn’t have to worry about how you’d get home, and they served actual food, so you wouldn’t have to drink on an empty stomach. It seemed like a pretty good deal, so you and Albert had decided to meet there for dinner to check it out, but he was running late.

You really should have expected it, given that you had known him for most of your life. You met him before you could remember it – your parents had been friends, you lived a few houses down from one another, and your birthdays were just a few weeks apart, so it was almost fate that you’d become best friends. He had been a constant in your life for as long as you could remember, so you really should have known better than to be exactly on time. Albert had many winning qualities – he was funny, cheerful, the only person who completely understood you and he didn’t hurt to look at – but punctual, he was not.

You had been sitting at an empty table, looking like a lonely alcoholic and picking at your fries, for fifteen minutes, when the bartender brought you a drink that you hadn’t ordered, and motioned to a man standing at the bar. He looked young-ish, and marginally attractive, but that didn’t change the fact that you didn’t want anything to do with him. He waved, and you gave him a strained smile, twirling the straw that was in the expensive-looking drink. He got up from his seat and you stifled a groan.

By the time he made his away across the room to your seat, your smile had slipped away, and you were in a comfortable resting bitch face.

“Hey, beautiful, is this seat taken?” he said, giving you a yellow-toothed grin.

“Actually, I’m waiting for my-“ he sat down before you had a chance to finish.

“I’m Morris, and you are?”

“I’m not interested, sorry,” you answered, flatly.

“Oh, c’mon,” he cajoled, “your drink was expensive, you know.”

“I didn’t ask for that.”

“Look, just let me sit here and talk to you. We can be friends, I promise I’m real friendly.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled out your phone to check the time. Albert was now twenty minutes late, and you were considering ditching the bar altogether, if only to escape the man at your table. Although, with a type like him, you weren’t sure if he’d follow you.

“Hey, doll,” his voice was sharp, now, “I’m sure you know how rude it is to ignore someone, especially by texting.”

His eyes looked a little more menacing now, and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t feel a little nervous. You looked desperately around the restaurant, to see if you could flag a waiter or bartender’s attention.

“I’m talkin’ to you, sweetheart,” the man – Morris – snarled.

“I,” you started, not sure about what was going to come out of your mouth – the last thing you needed to do was make a guy that was already as creepy as him, angry.

Before you had to speak, someone swooped into the seat next to you, resting an arm on your shoulders. You glanced up. Albert DaSilva, knight in shining armour. He pecked you on the cheek and gave the man one of his most intimidating looks.

“Hey, babygirl, sorry I’m late, I got caught up at work.”

“Don’t worry about it, love,” you answered, quickly catching on to what he was doing.

He gave you a dazzling grin, but the look in his eyes asked silently if you were okay. You reached over and patted his knee in an answer.

“So, who’s your friend?” Al addressed the question to you, but he was levelling the man with another one of his looks.

“I’m – uh – Morris, but I was just leaving, man.”

The chair screeched against the floor as Morris quickly got up.

“Don’t forget this!” you said, giving him the falsest grin that you could muster, holding out the drink that you hadn’t touched.

Morris muttered something under his breath and looked like he was about to reply, before he glanced at Albert again, and snatched the glass away so quickly that something fruity spilled out onto the table.

You let out a breath of relief when he finally left, but Al’s hand didn’t drop from your shoulder.

“You okay?” he mumbled in your ear, his face so close to yours that you could smell his minty breath and feel its warmth on your face.

“Yeah, now that he’s gone. Thanks.”

“Hey, I’m the one who was late – no need to thank me, it’s what any good friend would do.”

He dropped his arm. You looked at him properly, taking him in. He was dressed in a regular button-down shirt and jeans, with a brown, warm-looking jacket, and the red hair that he despised (and you not-so-secretly loved) was hidden under a baseball cap. The outfit would have been nice on anyone, but on Albert, it was alluring.

He glanced around the room, looking for a waiter. His eyes met Morris’, who was still staring at the two of you with a frown. He nudged you to look, and this time you didn’t stifle your groan. Men like Morris were the worst: he didn’t respect your right to deny him, unless there was a man whose authority he could defer to.

“We’ll probably have to keep up the boyfriend-girlfriend act for tonight,” you said, grimacing.

Albert shrugged and put his arm back around your shoulders.

“S’alright. Enough people assume we’re dating, anyway, I don’t think we’ll have a hard time convincing one creep.”

The food at the bar’s restaurant was actually pretty good and Albert was such good company that you soon forgot that you were pretending to be together. His arm around your shoulder was familiar, and, when that it wasn’t there, his hand was warm as it rested on your thigh. You had to remind yourself not to get too comfortable. Albert was just, like he said, a good friend. You were not allowed to think about what a good boyfriend he would be, or how much you wished he would kiss you somewhere other than your cheek. He was a friend, your best friend, and you were not allowed to feel those sorts of feelings.

Still, your body felt a little cold at the end of the evening, when the two of you stepped out to walk home and finally dropped the act. He must have seen you shivering because he rolled his eyes and shrugged off his jacket, holding it out to you.

“How is it, that in the eighteen years I’ve known you, you still haven’t learnt how to dress for the weather?” he asked.

You stuck your tongue at him, but gratefully accepted the jacket, and not just because you knew it would smell of his cologne. It was a chilly autumn evening, and, he was right, you didn’t know how to dress for the weather.

“That’s what I keep you around for, DaSilva. You’re my personal coat rack.”

He let out a bark of laughter and nudged you gently with his shoulder, as you crossed familiar streets to get home.

“You feel like having a movie night tonight? We should appreciate Dead Poet’s Society properly before they take it off Netflix,” he asked, when you were a few minutes from his place.

“You know I’m always down to have a good cry, Al,” you grinned at him.

You texted your mom that you’d be staying over at his, and you both yelled greetings at his dad as you climbed the stairs to Al’s room. You crashed down onto Albert’s bed as soon as you got there, and he gave you a look that you didn’t recognise, his pupils a little wide, before passing you a pair of shorts that you’d left there for nights like this and an old sweater of his. You went to the bathroom to change and tried your best to ignore the scent of his cologne that clung to the warm sweater.

When you got back he was in pyjamas too, but he still had on that ugly baseball cap.

“Seriously?”, you asked, hands akimbo.

“What?”

“You’re gonna wear a baseball cap when we’re watching a movie at your house?”

He scrunched up his face childishly.

“Shut up. My hair’s been annoying me.”

You rolled your eyes and walked over to where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, snatching the hat off his head.

“I’ll have you know that some of us like seein’ your hair, DaSilva.”

He tried to grab the cap from your hands, but you held it behind your back. He groaned and reached for it again, inadvertently pulling you closer, so that you were practically straddling him. You were about to go through your regular routine for moments like this: you’d clear your throat, move back and make a joke like nothing had happened, but he put his hands on your hips, and pulled you down onto his lap. You saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. Your hands dropped the cap that had been behind your back and came to rest on his shoulders.

“Hi,” you breathed out.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice sounding scratchy and kind of… wrecked.

Almost unconsciously, you began to lean towards him. His eyes studied your face, like he was drinking in the moment. His warm breath wafted over your face and your lips almost brushed, when you heard the door swing open.

“Hey, Al, do you have my-“ you scrambled to get off Albert’s lap as his older brother Dan’s voiced boomed. “Oh shit, my bad! I’ll borrow Charlie’s charger, get back to it, kids!”

You had practically fallen off of Al’s lap and were now sitting unceremoniously on the floor. His face was almost as red as his hair, and he looked nervous, nothing like the cocky boy you knew. The silence hung in the air for a moment, with tension that could be cut with a knife, before a giggle slipped out from your lips. He stared at you, momentarily shocked, but was soon laughing too. After a while, when your laughter had finally died down, he got up and reached out a hand to pull you up. Your hand tingled where it touched his, and he held it for a moment too long, before clearing his throat and pulling away to grab his laptop off his desk. You were sure that you saw his hand clench into a fist and then stretch out just before he picked it up.

Before long, you were settled on his bed, laptop between the two of you, as you watched the boys in the cave. The moment between you was gone, but neither of you could forget it. What would have happened if Dan hadn’t walked in? As was the routine with this movie, when it came to an end, Al rubbed your shoulder while you cried and tried to stifle his own sniffles.

“God,” you said, slamming the laptop shut and sinking down onto his pillows, “why did we think it was a good idea to watch that, again?”

“We must be sadists,” Albert answered, solemnly.

The two of you drifted into a regular conversation about something stupid that Race had done at a party the weekend before, or a fact Davey had told you, or how ridiculous Katherine and Sarah were, both of you ignoring the tension that still hung in the air. You talked into the early hours of the morning, slipping under the covers at some point. Albert’s body was warm near yours, and you tried your best to resist the urge to cling to him like a koala. He was always warm, and you seemed to run cold most of the time, so cuddling with him always helped both of you reach the perfect temperature equilibrium.

The conversation lulled, and you replayed the night back in your head, as he typed something on his phone.

“Hey, Al?” you said softly, turning to look at him.

“Uh, yeah?” he answered, looking up from his phone.

“Thanks for, um, saving me from that guy, earlier.”

He locked his phone and put it aside, lying on his side to face you fully.

“Of course, Y/N. You know I’ve always got you. I hate creeps like that. If you hadn’t’ve been there to ground me, I’d probably have kicked his ass,” he said, huffing a little.

“Seriously, Al, if I had to pick a fake boyfriend, you’d be my first choice any day.”

He laughed, sounding a little rough.

“You ever think about that?” he asked in a low voice.

“Think about what?” you frowned, confused.

“Like, you and me. You know, how everyone thinks we’re dating, even when we aren’t specifically pretending to?”

You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling.

“I mean, yeah. I guess that’s what usually happens with boy-girl friendships. ‘Basic heteronormativity’, Davey’d call it.”

“It’s,” he searched for the right word, “weird, I guess.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “weird.”

Albert never had trouble getting girls, or anyone, for that matter, to like him. He was cute, and funny and charming, in that confident jock-ish way. It was unbearable for you, but he usually basked in the attention. Usually, but not this time.

This time, his eyes looked a little panicky as he stood in line for the bathroom at the music festival that Race and JoJo had dragged the lot of you to. A girl, a little bit older than him, was in the line behind him. He laughed uncomfortably at something she said and flinched a little as she put an arm on his bicep. He looked around desperately and made eye contact with you, in the line for a different port-a-potty a little further away. Your feet carried you over to him, almost unconsciously.

You slipped your arm around his and squeezed in a kind of hug.

“Hey, babe,” you said, pulling the backwards cap off his head and unceremoniously plonking it on yours.

“Hi, babygirl, I wondered where you got to” he replied, with a smile that was a little more than relieved. Your heart stuttered a little at the nickname, and you made sure not to let your eyes linger too long on way he ran his hands through his hair.

You turned to the girl and flashed her a grin.

“Oh, hi, I don’t think I know you. I’m Y/N,” you said, putting out a hand to shake.

She took it reluctantly.

“Vanessa.”

“Nice to meet you,” replied, with a saccharine smile.

“Hey, babe, I think that guy you like is playing at the bottom stage soon,” you said to Al, with a grin that you hoped looked lovestruck.

He beamed at you.

“That guy I like? Awfully specific, babygirl,” he teased.

You hit him in the chest, hoping he didn’t notice the warmth creeping up your neck.

“Whatever! Just hurry up and use the bathroom, the line’s moving and I’ve been holding it for, like, an hour,” you replied, giggling and pushing him forward.

“You don’t mind if I gap into the line, do you?” you asked, turning to Vanessa.

“It’s fine. I actually have to, um, go,” she huffed, walking away, quickly.

You gave Al a discreet high five and pushed him towards the empty cubicle.

When he came out, flicking the water on his hands at you, he flashed you another thousand-watt grin.

“You know, you are an excellent fake girlfriend,” he drawled.

“Yeah, well, too bad no one wants me to be their real one,” you replied, moving towards the bathroom yourself.

You turned quickly and missed the way he seemed to deflate at the words, the smile dropping off his face, as he scuffed his Converse in the sand.

“You two make such a cute couple!”

The voice came from an old lady, standing behind a stall at the carnival you and Al were visiting. He was standing behind you, unzipping your backpack and to get a bottle of water out, and he froze at her words.

“Thank you!” you answered, hoping to end the conversation quickly.

“You remind me of my husband and I at your age, he looked at me with those dreamy eyes too,” she winked at you. “And, forty-one years later, that look hasn’t gone away! It’s how you know he’s a keeper.”

Albert was glad that you weren’t looking at him, because you wouldn’t have been able to miss the panic in his eyes.

“Well, I’ll be sure to hold onto him, then,” you replied, smiling sweetly, before giving her a wave and leading Albert away.

“She was sweet,” you remarked, arm in Albert’s, as you headed for a claw game, and that was all that either of you said about the incident.

You were not a fan of bars, but you were a big aficionado of house parties. Well, not all parties, but parties like this one, where you knew all but a few attendees. It was so much easier to let loose when you were surrounded by friends, at least for the most part.

You had stepped out onto the lawn for a breath of fresh air, when one of the only people at the party that you didn’t know, walked up to you.

“Hey,” he said, giving you a smile that looked genuine enough, “I saw you inside, but didn’t get the chance to introduce myself. I’m Hunter.”

You introduced yourself back and put out a hand to shake his. His grip was firm, but his hand was cold, and you pulled away quickly.

“I saw you dancing inside, and, you’ve got some moves on you, if I do say so myself,” he spoke again.

You almost laughed aloud. Was he serious? You had about as much rhythm as a dead fish, and you told him as much.

“It’s not about the rhythm, at all,” he laughed, although it didn’t sound very kind. “You’ve got moves,” as he said the last word, his eyes raked down your body and you felt suddenly uncomfortable.

You chuckled lightly, and muttered some excuse, turning to head inside.

“Wait,” he said, grabbing onto your wrist, with a hand that still felt like ice, “stay out here and talk to me for a moment, babygirl,” he rasped.

The pet name, which sounded like honey when it dripped from Al’s lips, sounded crass and demeaning when he said it.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you replied, trying to pull you wrist away.

His grip was like steel, and it only tightened as you tried to pull away.

“C’mon, just stay here and talk to me, I’m real friendly,” he croaked, with a smile that was menacing.

“No,” you said, looking around desperately for anyone else, as he used his hand on your wrist to pull you into his chest. He reeked of alcohol and sweat and didn’t look friendly at all, from up close.

His grip was so tight that you were certain you would bruise, and suddenly, he was pulled away from you. You were confused for a second, and then you saw Albert on the ground, pummelling him.

“She said no, asshole!” he was shouting, acidly, along with more colourful language.

Race was pulling him off, the guy was stumbling away, and Albert was panting and cradling his hand, breathless. You barely processed what was going on – it had all happened so quickly. Even with his bloody knuckles, Albert raced to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, lowly.

“Yeah, I-I’m fine, now,” you uttered. “Are you okay?”

He laughed, drily.

“I’ll survive.”

“I think we should get inside,” Race called, from the doorway – when had he moved to the doorway?

You followed Albert, who tried to hide the way he held his hand. Whether it was for his bravado, or your peace of mind, you didn’t know. You dragged him to a bathroom before he could protest, and sat him down on the closed toilet, rummaging around for a first aid kit.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” he asked, quietly.

You turned back to him, a bottle of disinfectant in your hand.

“You’re worrying about me while you’re sitting there, bleeding all over the bathroom floor?”

“Well, yeah,” he started to stand up, and you gently pushed him back down by the shoulders. “You almost got assaulted by a random creep, I should have been there to protect you.”

You gently took his hand in one of yours and started to wipe at it with a ball of cotton wool dipped in disinfectant. He flinched a little and swore under his breath.

“You’re my best friend, Al, but you can’t look after me all the time.”

“I know,” he said, “but I just wish that I could. I wish guys like him didn’t exist.”

“Trust me, we all do.”

You finished cleaning the blood off one hand and moved on to the other, gently wiping at his knuckles, apologising softly when he flinched from the sting. You cradled his hands for a little after you had cleaned them, and they were still warm in yours.

“Looks like surface cuts, mostly, but I wouldn’t go around punching any other creeps any time soon,” you joked, still studying his hands.

He stood up, quickly, and his body was nearer to yours than you had expected. You were still holding his hands, carefully, and your eyes were trained on them.

He pulled one hand away and cradled your cheek. He moved it down to your chin and lifted your face to look at him.

“I’m okay, I promise,” he whispered.

“Okay,” was all you could say, “that’s good.”

“You know,” he continued, “when I came outside to look for you and saw that guy, holding you, and you looked so…” he trailed off. “I just saw red, I couldn’t deal with the thought of you getting hurt.”

“Well, I’m not hurt, Al, thanks to you.”

“You’re my best friend, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

You huffed, and dropped his hands, moving away.

“What’s wrong?” he faltered, momentarily confused.

“I just – is that all we are, Albert? Because I always feel like there’s this… something else between us, and I just need to know if I’m imagining it,” the words spilled out before you could stop them.

He moved towards you.

“Y-you’re not imagining it,” he mumbled, “I – it’s there for me, too.”

You grasped his hand again, and his thumbs brushed over your skin.

“Well, what do we do with it?” you asked, eyes studying his face.

“This,” he answered, and in an instant, he had dropped your hands and was gripping your face.

His lips moved against yours, and yours against his. Your hands moved up to his hair, grasping at the roots and tugging lightly. You smirked against his lips when he let out a little moan, and he pulled away a moment later, moving to your jaw, and kissing along it, leaving you gasping his name.

“Albert, wait,” you started, and he pulled away to look at you, pupils wide and lips pink.

“Yeah?”

“I – this isn’t just hooking up, right?”

He laughed, and your heart dropped for a moment, before he pulled you against him in a hug.

“I don’t think I’m capable of just hooking up with you, to be honest,” he said, against your ear.

You sank into the hug and let him hold you in his arms, carefully, like you were something precious.

“I think I love you,” you whispered into his ear, holding onto him for dear life.

He pulled away and held you at an arm’s length, studying your face as though he couldn’t believe you without seeing you. His knees felt a little weak, but he gave you a cocky smirk, and you wanted to kiss it off him and leave him breathless.

“Well, I know that I love you, babygirl.”

You beamed and pulled him back down to kiss you again. Babygirl. That nickname would be the death of you, but, as his lips moved down and kissed at your neck, you decided that it wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

TAGLIST: @bencookisagod @broadwayandbookblog @theygivesyawhateveryouwant @crazymecjc

#albert dasilva x reader #albert dasilva #newsies x reader #newsies fanfiction #newsies: the musical

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nerdybubblebee · 6 years

Text

I Love You More Than Ice Cream

Gotta credit my girl @midqueenally for this mood board again hehe XD.

Chapter 2/?

Ratings: M (for now will most likely go up later)

Chapter Summary:

Jon's POV! XD Just a short chapter showing Jon's side of this story. Watch him navigate his crush on a certain silver haired beauty, filled with mild awkwardness and a lot of feelings. Oh and a very adorable puppy.

Ao3 link to this chap as well as chapter one here. Just click Previous if you haven't read chap 1~

Enjoy! XD

“Okay... okay... play it cool. Don’t act weird. We got this right?” A question he posed to the lump, wriggling slightly against his chest, its little black wet nose poking at his neck. All he got in reply was a shrill whine and a languid lick.

“Good enough.” Nodding to himself, he tucked the furry lump more securely within the confines of his hoodie. With one hand under the puppy’s bum, Jon slung his guitar case onto his shoulder, setting off down the street towards the quaint little ice cream parlour that he had come to love. The ice cream was delicious but it was for more than that. Hell, even his family knew about it.

His uncle had been badgering him so hard for frequenting “enemy” territory. Well, more like teasingly niggling him endlessly about going over whenever he could just so he could catch a glimpse of that pretty ice cream lady.

“You’re not going to see the competition again are you?” Ned asked, flinging an arm around his nephew’s shoulder and pulling the smaller man into a snug side hug. His prominent brows wriggled cheekily at Jon. Those kind knowing eyes of his uncle, gleaming with mirth always reminded him so much of his mother, Lyanna, Ned’s baby sister. Under the scrutiny of their identical grey eyes, Jon always felt like a child. A boy who could keep no secrets from them. Their eyes saw right through him, always.

See, Jon��s Uncle Ned was the current owner of the local diner and the bed and breakfast above it. It was a family run business passed down from his parents. Besides providing warm meals for the people, the diner was also well known for its range of milkshakes, warm dessert classics like their bestselling rhubarb pie and of course ice cream. It was a place that travellers who were passing through town loved and a place the town folk grew up with. Including, a certain pretty ice cream lady.

Since Dany opened her shop, the two establishments had started a friendly rivalry to see who could attract the most customers by the end of her first year. The time was almost up. Ned had been in the lead due to the fact that he had his diner and bed and breakfast to account for, but now Dany seemed to be catching up. Which may or may not be thanks to him secretly recommending his customers to visit her if they ever wanted a more modern twist to their frozen desserts. Ned wasn’t one who particularly cared for winning. He only wanted his friend’s little girl, whom he watched grow from a spirited little thing with skinned knees and leaves in her hair into a smart, capable young woman to strive and some competition would do her good.

“When are you going to strike up a conversation with that girl, boy? Daenerys is not gonna wait forever!” Ned yelled out at Jon as he made his way to the door.

“I don’t know what you’re indicating at. I’m just going for a walk with Ghost, uncle.” Jon feigned ignorance, feeling rather flushed and discomfited. Was he really that obvious? Ned’s bellowing laughter followed him as the diner door shut behind him.

Daenerys. Dany, the other lady at the shop had called her.

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Jon was sure she could have her pick of any man anywhere. Would she even want to bat an eye in his direction? A lady like her must be accustomed to all manner of pursuits from men. What if him going after her would be unwelcome? What if she found him too forward and he’d just chase her away? She might even be taken already! The thought had his heart clenching unpleasantly. For now, he was content with just admiring her from afar and dreaming of how their future interactions would go. Moreover, if he kept going, she was bound to take his order one day, right? That would be a start.

The second day he arrived at the town he had only heard his parents wistfully reminisce about through the stories they told him regarding his extended family, Jon went out exploring with his camera. Taking in the sights of this scenic little seaside town. His wandering lead him further and further into town. Sitting just at the edge of the town centre, at the junction of a street that seemed to lead into the more residential area was a cottage. Its cheerful exterior with its pale pink walls and white roof caught his eye. Curious, he decided to check it out. The closer he got, the noisy chatter of people and the smell of vanilla bean and waffle cones awoke his senses. The sign by the pathway under a fragrant lemon tree, leading up to the house read “Sweet Summer Chilled Ice Cream Parlour”.

Making his way up the front steps to the door, Jon snuck a glimpse inside from the porch windows. His eyes took in the matching pastel aesthetics of the interior decor, the numerous patrons lounging about, the freezers with the ice cream, sorbet and frozen yogurt on display before landing on a woman behind the counter talking to a patron. The sight of her forced a quiet ‘whoa...’ from his lips.

The woman had a head of silver curls that she wore in a fish tail braid, draped over her left shoulder. Her cheeks were tinged with the slightest hint of pink. As for her eyes, he couldn’t discern the colour from where he stood but they were large and doe like. The edges crinkled as she laughed at something her customer said. She was absolutely stunning and that smile of hers took his breath away.

The shop was fairly busy that afternoon and yet despite that, the woman bustled about serving her customers with the biggest, brightest smile on her face. The enjoyment and passion she had for her profession was captured in the twinkling of her eyes. Her never faltering grin was like the sun, so warm and radiant, infectious. Without knowing, his own lips had quirked up to smile along with her. It was that very instant, standing by the door watching her, Jon knew that he was lost. Completely and utterly besotted with this gorgeous stranger.

Upon his return to his uncle’s diner, he tried desperately to be subtle. Casually, as best as he could, he brought up the house at the end of the street to his younger cousin Arya. Thankfully, she did not disappoint. He found out that her name was Daenerys, she grew up in town but left for college. After graduating, she had a job in the big city for a while but decided to return home to open an ice cream parlour. The cottage it now resided in used to belong to her grandparents who left it to her before they passed.

Since then, he’d found himself being drawn to that fairy-tale-esque ice cream parlour, drawn to the lady inside. He didn’t know why but he knew he wanted to be around her. He wanted to learn how to draw out those lovely smiles of hers. He wanted to know what her favourite ice cream flavour was. He wanted to know every single detail that shaped the woman she was.

In theory, wanting something was easy but the process of achieving said goal, sometimes won’t go as smoothly as one would expect. The same goes for wanting to be in a relationship with someone. Jon was learning that now. His dating experience wasn’t much to brag about. His last girlfriend was an acquaintance of his best friend. After their first meeting, the two of them engaged in on and off hook ups and attempts at dating for three months until she broke it off when he hinted at the possibility of them becoming an exclusive couple. After that, Jon gradually shied away from relationships. His job kept him well occupied and he even picked up a new hobby of creating music. That was three years ago.

As each footfall took him closer to the cottage, under the warm pressure of his puppy curled up and dozing on his chest, his heart began to play a game of jump rope. Would she be just as pretty as she was three days ago? Oh, who was he kidding, of course she would be. Would she be wearing that beautiful smile today? Stepping up the steps like he had done so many tines this week, his stomach did a flip at the thought of seeing her again. Ghost began to stir from his nap, whining a little by the jostling of his owner’s steps. “Shhh....” Jon snuck a finger into the collar of his hoodie to scratch between his puppy’s ears.

Pushing the door open, the warmth of the interior and the now familiar scent of vanilla and waffle cones washed over him once more. This place really was lovely. The cosiness of the layout was a nice counterbalance to the slight chill of the house. The shop was quiet that day, with only two of the booths occupied. Scanning the shop with his heart in his throat, his eyes searched for that glimmer of silver that he longed to see.

There she was!

How odd the phenomenon of having a crush was? Just a simple glance could reduce a sane person into a star struck, fumbling, bumbling mess whose brain and body just refused to coordinate. All he could do was stand and stare with his mouth agape. It would appear that he underestimated the degree of his feelings for that woman before him.

That smile she had refilling an empty ice cream tub was like a bolt straight to his heart. A flurry of goose bumps scurried across his skin. What would it feel to kiss that smile of hers, he wondered? Would her lips taste sweet like strawberries and cream? What would it be like to tangle his fingers in those curls that swayed as she moved? How would it feel like to kiss her under the stars, to hold her in his arms? His hands craved to touch her pale skin, to glide over the curves he could see through the confines of her clothes. What would he have to do to make her tremble and call out his name? Perhaps a kiss to her pulse point? One that he longed to find. How would it feel to have her writhing under him, above him, to move within her warmth?

Good lord, snap out of it man!

Running a hand down his face with a groan, this was not the time nor the place for thoughts like that, he berated himself. Jon subtly slung his guitar case to the front of his pants. A little hot under his collar and it wasn’t because of his puppy’s body heat, unsteady steps took him to the freezer display in search of something to cool him down.

Key lime pie, raspberry jelly donut, blueberry cheesecake, peach cobbler....

What should he go for today? Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Dany and her friend whispering in quiet tones to one another. Dany’s cheeks were looking a bit flushed as she clutched her hand to her chest whereas her friend with her back to him was giggling so hard she was shaking.

Chocolate swirl, cookies and cream, black cherry chocolate chip, rum raisin, mint chocolate chip....

I suppose my default wouldn’t hurt, Jon thought with a shrug. Besides, he had more important matters to worry about. Reaching for the bell on the counter he gave it a tap.

Ding!

Shuffling a few steps back from the counter, he started to fidget, adjusting the strap of his guitar case to lie higher on his shoulder. Anxiety swirled to life in the pit of his stomach. Would Dany finally take his order today? If she did, what was he going to say? What was she going to say? Would she look at him strangely like the weirdo she must think he was coming to her shop so often, getting the same ice cream every time?

“Hello there again!”

His head shot up just in time to see her silver pony tail bob out of view as her petite figure hurry off to the back of the house. Jon’s heart dropped. It wasn’t Dany today.

Averting his eyes to face Dany’s co-worker, he gave her a timid wave. “Umm... hi again.”

From his brief interactions with the lady, he could tell that she had a charmingly friendly demeanour and a very pleasant smile. She looked like a person you could be comfortable around and confide your deepest secrets to without the fear of her leaking them out.

“You’ve been coming around a lot. You must really like ice cream huh?”

“Amongst other things....” Jon muttered quietly to himself. Tugging at his ear lobe, his eyes darted away from her. If only she knew. Although, that elusive smirk she wore and her teasing tone hinted that maybe she did. With that mildly mortifying thought in his mind now, a flush quickly spread like wildfire up his neck.

Missandei had her suspicions as to why this good-looking fellow came by so recurrently. His look of disappointment at seeing her and the futile glance full of longing over her shoulder just confirmed it. This man standing right there opposite her clearly had a crush on Dany! The poor guy had no idea that his feelings were very much reciprocated. She was really having the best time observing the reactions from these two lovebirds. Lovebirds who didn’t even know that all they needed to start something beautiful, was to just go for it. They were going to need some help and she was going to give it to them whether they liked it or not.

To start, she needed some information. Clearing her throat, Missandei asked: “So, what’s your name? It’s always good to know our customers and you’re already very much a regular here.”

“Oh. I’m Jon. Jon Snow.” Being the cordial gentleman that he was, he stuck out his right hand in greeting.

Taking his proffered hand in hers, she gave it a quick shake. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Jon, properly this time. I’m Missandei.”

Deciding that it was time to wake up, Ghost poked his furry head out of Jon’s collar. Pushing down on the zipper to free his head, a white ball of fluff emerged from the depths of Jon’s hoodie to address the humans outside with a huge yawn.

“Aww.... and who’s this?” Missandei cooed. Her heart melted into a puddle at the sight of the little puppy in Jon’s hoodie. Its white fur matched his owner’s last name perfectly. Inquisitive ruby red eyes blinked sluggishly as he roused himself fully from sleep to glance about at his surroundings.

Fondly, scratching the puppy under his chin, Jon said to her: “This is Ghost. As you can see he’s an albino pup. He was the smallest of his litter when I adopted him from the shelter. And... he likes to hide out in my clothing for some reason.” Ghost’s eyes narrowed into a squint at Jon’s pleasurable ministrations.

“He’s lovely.” Rubbing a tiny paw under her thumb, Missandei melted even further as Ghost’s mouth tried to gnaw at her. He was the cutest little thing.

Eventually, when Ghost gave up his attempt at chewing and settled for just licking her, Missandei shifted her attention back to Jon to ask him for his order. “Are you having the usual today? Or would you like to try out some new flavours?” Just then, an idea struck her. “Oh, and this puppy’s getting a treat too! On the house.”

“You don’t have to. Just a bowl of water will be fine for him please. I’ll umm... yeah. I’ll have my usual.”

“Nonsense! A puppy that cute deserve a treat! I insist.” Missandei implored, dismissing any possible protests of his.

“Well.... if you insist.”

“I absolutely do! Go wait outside at your table!” Missandei waved her hands at him to shoo him out playfully. “I won’t be a long with your order,” she added with a smile.

Jon watched her work for a moment before exiting the shop to take up his usual bench. Sighing, he lay his guitar case down on the table. Unzipping his hoodie, he lifted Ghost out and plopped him on the table too. Did bringing his puppy with him in hopes to attract the attentions of a girl? Sure. It worked, the girl just wasn’t Dany.

A man with babies or puppies always gets the ladies. That’s what his best friend had said.

Once again, he didn’t get to talk to the woman he went to see but he did make a new acquaintance and possibly a new ally.

“Well, that was something huh?” He asked his furry companion, stroking a finger gently through his snowy white fur.

Little did he know, Ghost the puppy would be the catalyst to his first conversation with the girl of his dreams.

#jonerys fanfic #jonerys fic #jonerys #jonerys modern au #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #jon x daenerys #got fanfiction

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