The Fire Burns Out (💥x🫵🏼) Oneshot (ooc: cheating)
The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. You sat on the couch, staring at the television screen displaying a paused scene from a movie you'd stopped paying attention to.
It had been a week since Bakugou came home late, smelling of someone else's perfume, and three days since you had confronted him about it.
Even now, the echo of his words replayed in your head, sharp and cutting.
"It didn't mean anything, alright?" He had snapped, his voice raw. "I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this." Why would he say something like that?
The argument had spiraled out of control, leaving behind wounds that words couldn't heal. His guilt was there, you saw it in his eyes. But it wasn't enough to stop him. Not enough to fight for you the way you had always fought for him.
Your fingers traced the rim of your coffee mug. Four years. Four long years together, and it all felt like it was unraveling at the seams. You remembered the beginning.
The way he shyly asked you out in your third year of high school, his cheeks flushed as he tried to play it cool. He loved you. The way he'd held your hand for the first time, his touch hesitant but warm.
You had believed in him, in the fire that burned so brightly in his soul. But now, that fire felt cold, its embers scattered.
The front door clicked open, and you heard his boots against the floor. He didn't announce himself like he used to. No, "I'm home," or teasing remarks about your taste in TV dramas. Instead, he walked straight to the kitchen, avoiding your gaze.
"Late night again?" You asked, keeping your voice even. You wanted to cry, but you had to show how u bothered you were. Just to get through it.
"Work," he muttered, not looking at you as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Work," you repeated bitterly. "Is that what you're calling it now?"
His movements froze, and for a moment, the air between you was thick with unspoken tension. Finally, he turned to face you, his crimson eyes hard but tired.
"What do you want me to say, (Y/n)?" he asked, his voice low. "That I'm sorry? I already said it. What more do you want from me?"
"I want the truth," you shot back, standing up. "I want to know why. Why her? Why now? After everything we've been through, Katsuki, how could you—" Your voice cracked, and you hated yourself for it.
His jaw tightened, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "It just happened, alright? I don't know what else to tell you!"
"You don't know?" You said, your voice rising. Cracking. "You don't know why you decided to throw away four years like it was nothing?"
"It's not like that!" He snapped, his own temper flaring. "Stop acting like I don't care about you, because I do!"
"Do you?" You challenged, stepping closer to him. "Because it sure as hell doesn't feel like it. You haven't looked at me the same in months, Katsuki. I'm not stupid. I know you've been pulling away, but I thought—" Your voice broke again, and you took a shaky breath. "I thought we could fix it."
His silence was deafening, and for the first time, you saw it in his eyes—resignation. He wasn't going to fight for you.
"Maybe we can't," he said quietly, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut.
For a moment, you couldn't breathe. The tears you'd been holding back spilled over, and you turned away from him, covering your face with your hands.
"God, you're such a coward," you choked out. "You'd rather cheat than talk to me. You'd rather hurt me than admit you're falling out of love. How did we get here, Katsuki?"
"I don't know," he admitted, his voice softer now. "I don't know, (Y/n)."
The fight drained out of you, leaving behind a hollow ache. You sat back down on the couch, burying your face in your hands.
"I loved you," you whispered. "I still do. But maybe that's not enough anymore."
Bakugou stood there, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He looked like he wanted to say something, to reach out to you, but he didn't. Instead, he turned and walked toward the bedroom, leaving you alone with your broken heart.
+++
The days that followed were a blur of cold silence and awkward avoidance. You both went through the motions, pretending you could coexist in the same space without addressing the chasm that had grown between you.
One night, you found yourself scrolling through old photos on your phone. There was one from your high school graduation, the two of you grinning like idiots with your arms around each other. Another from your first vacation together, where he had carried you on his back after you twisted your ankle hiking.
You missed that version of him. The version who looked at you like you were his entire world.
But people changed. Love changed. And as much as it hurt, you couldn't ignore the truth any longer.
+++
The final fight came a week later.
"I'm moving out," you said, breaking the silence as you packed your suitcase.
Bakugou stood in the doorway of your shared bedroom, his expression unreadable. "So that's it, huh?"
"What else is there to say?" You asked, not looking at him. "We've been pretending like this can work, but it can't. Not anymore."
He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. "You're giving up."
You laughed bitterly, turning to face him. "I'm not the one who gave up, Katsuki. You did. The moment you decided she was worth more than us, you gave up. I'm just finally accepting it."
His gaze dropped, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But he didn't. Instead, he nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry I hurt you."
"I know," you replied, your voice softening. "But sorry doesn't fix this. It doesn't fix us."
You finished packing and zipped up your suitcase. As you walked past him, he reached out and grabbed your wrist.
"(Y/n)," he said, his voice cracking.
You looked at him, and for a brief moment, you saw a flicker of the boy you had fallen in love with. But it wasn't enough to make you stay.
"Goodbye, Katsuki," you said, gently pulling your hand away.
And with that, you walked out the door, leaving behind the man who had once been your everything.
sorry
