Pxly

“Darling, is everything all right?” His gloved hands closed around yours the moment you were close enough. You had always been surprised by how easily he could drop what he was doing to pay attention to you; the fact that he hadn't even said hello indicated that he had definitely noticed your expression, and that made you wonder if it was too obvious.

“Just a bad day,” you admitted, letting out a sigh that sounded more like resignation. It wasn't a lie that you'd had a bad day, and you planned to tell him in detail everything that had happened after you got what you wanted.

“Do you want me to…” His words trailed off, but you knew exactly what he was about to say: offer a way to fix everything that had gone wrong or find solutions to whatever problem was bothering you at that moment. And of course you appreciated his attention, but right then you needed something else.

“Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do all day,” you admitted, letting out another sigh, this time completely fake and more dramatic than you’d planned, but that was enough to set off his alarm bells.

He nodded, pushing his desk chair back, and did a quick mental check. Just in case he needed to call Jade and Floyd despite the hour, they'd surely already left, and… Azul expected anything except what happened next. He'd barely noticed the way you'd carefully slid onto his lap, you seemed to hesitate before finally settling onto his legs until you were comfortable enough.

To say his body tensed was probably an understatement. He hadn't even moved for the first few seconds because his mind could barely process how you felt against him. He'd never considered doing anything like that, much less in his office, which was one of the places where he spent most of his time. His displays of affection were usually private, and at that moment anyone could simply walk in without knocking, especially the twins. Although a part of him knew that no one would dare to do such a thing—besides his girlfriend, obviously.

“This is… unusual,” his voice was low enough that only the two of you could hear, yet it still held that gentle tone he didn’t use with anyone else. “Someone could walk in and see us like this,” part of him tried to be reasonable and maintain that perfect composure he always had in front of others, but then there was the other part of him that was the perfect boyfriend, who always had the perfect words on a bad day, and the part that enjoyed exactly the way your warmth felt against him.

“No one’s going to come in at this hour. Just five more minutes,” your voice sounded muffled because you buried your face in his chest, trying to hide the slight redness that had started to form under your eyes half an hour ago.

Azul's body relaxed seconds later as he adjusted to your weight on his lap, which had become comforting. You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer until there wasn't even the slightest space between you. The mere thought of someone so important to him being sad and him being unable to do anything to fix it made him feel guilty, even though he knew deep down that he was doing everything he could in that moment. You didn't need anything else, just Azul's arms around you.

Your eyes closed for a few seconds, savoring the silence that surrounded you. Most of the time, with anyone else, silences seemed merely awkward, but with Azul it was the complete opposite; his arms around you and his soft breath against your hair had been the most comforting part of your entire day.

Uzui Tengen

Tengen arrives with his usual energy and takes a few minutes before it fades.

Because he looks at you and the performance falls apart without him making the slightest effort to keep it going, and what lies beneath Tengen when he stops trying to be extravagant is something very few people know. That fact makes your heart sink.

"Hey."

He lets himself fall beside you on the futon. This time he isn't wearing the haori, nor the flashy jewelry he usually uses, he also doesn't adopt that proud posture that makes him seem capable of filling an entire room on his own.

"This mission..."

He leaves the sentence hanging, it doesn't seem like he's able to finish it.

The word lingers between you for just a moment before you gently shake your head.

"you don't need to say it," you murmur, looking away.

Tengen watches you for a few seconds and ends up letting out a small laugh through his nose.

"Yeah, I guess not."

The night keeps moving forward and, somehow, you both end up avoiding the topic. You talk about anything else: ridiculous training sessions, rumors that spread through the corps faster than messenger crows, something Suma did a few days ago that still manages to bring a smile to his face every time he remembers it... He also mentions Makio and Hinatsuru several times, as he always does, because talking about them comes as naturally to him as breathing.

For a few hours you even manage to forget he's leaving at dawn.

When you wake up later, the room remains silent. Darkness is still covering the outside and for a few seconds you think you're still alone, until you make out Tengen Uzui's silhouette by the window.

Moonlight falls over his shoulders while he writes something calmly.

Tengen lifts his gaze when he notices you've woken up and gives you a small smile.

"Did I wake you up?"

You give a small shake of your head and you slowly sit up, still drowsy. You walk over to where he is and stroke his shoulders before wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his neck.

"How are they?" you murmur against his skin.

Tengen shivers and laughs before letting go of the pen and stroking your arms. He pulls you closer, and you end up on his lap.

"Worried."

"How surprising," you can't help but snort.

Tengen laughs again and rests his chin on your shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist automatically, settling you better on his legs while the letter is forgotten on the table.

The night is calm, so calm it almost feels strange, compared to the whirlwind of feelings you both are fighting inside yourselves.

"Makio told me she was going to come say goodbye to me ten times in the same day," he finally comments.

"I’m not surprised," you roll your eyes, amused.

"Suma cried."

"That surprises me less."

"And Hinatsuru tried to convince them both to let me leave the house without making a scene."

This time you both end up laughing, you can picture it perfectly.

Tengen smiles, although the expression doesn't last long. You notice it in the way his arms tense slightly around your waist, as if his thoughts have caught up with him again.

You slide a hand to his cheek.

"What’s wrong?" you ask, stroking it.

For a few seconds he seems to debate whether to answer or not.

"I don’t like leaving people behind."

Your fingers stop on his face.

You know he isn't just talking about them, he's also talking about you, after all you all became a family, long ago you stopped calling them just Tengen’s wives.

You know they love you too, they’ve never let you forget it.

Makio scolds you every time you skip a meal, Suma worries about you even more than she worries about herself, and Hinatsuru seems to notice what you feel even before you understand it yourself.

"It's too unfair," he finally says.

You shift slightly on his lap until you're facing him straddling him and take his face between both hands.

"You have so much to lose because you have so much to love," you say, making sure he looks you straight in the eyes. "So turn it into your reason to come back alive."

Tengen looks at you speechless for a few seconds, then takes one of your hands and kisses your palm, his lips staying on your skin a little longer while he watches you and you blush again.

"You’re right," his voice comes out lower than usual. "So I’d better come back or my four wives will go yell at my grave."

You make a disgusted sound and hit his shoulder, not amused at all by his bad joke. Tengen tries to defend himself but ends up hiding his face in your neck, slowly stroking your waist with his hands.

You calm down and return the caresses on his shoulders, closing your eyes as you enjoy the moment.

Of course he will come back, you know very well that he’ll make sure to return to you.

•——————•°•✿•°•——————•

Rengoku Kyojuro

Kyojuro arrives that night with food, the best he could get. He bursts through the door loudly and you laugh with affection, gently taking the food out of his hands, just in case he accidentally drops it on the floor.

The room fills with the warm smell of freshly made food and you sit down to eat while talking about anything. You ignore the elephant in the room, Kyojuro’s mission.

You try to keep things normal, after all it’s not the first time Kyojuro goes on a difficult mission, but for some reason this one makes you uneasy.

Kyojuro seems to feel it too, since his hands find yours between sentences, as if he needs to check over and over again that you’re still there, that you haven’t gone somewhere he can’t reach before leaving. Sometimes he brushes your wrist while he talks, other times your forearm, other times he simply leaves his fingers resting on yours without even realizing it.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, little flame,” he says suddenly with conviction. “I want you to know that.”

Your chopsticks stop halfway to your mouth, you blink, surprised, and then you give him a bright smile.

“You’re the same for me,” you tell him softly.

“I mean it,” he adds.

The food keeps steaming between you, the warm aroma filling the room, but the scent suddenly feels more distant, as if it were in another room.

You lower your gaze to your intertwined hands and then look back at him.

“Of course, I wouldn’t dare doubt it,” you joke, but Kyojuro looks at you with an intensity that makes you let out a sigh. “I’ll wait for you patiently, don’t worry.”

And since that doesn’t seem to be enough to calm Kyojuro, you continue.

“Safe.”

Kyojuro closes his eyes and exhales slowly through his nose, you rest your head on his shoulder trying to comfort him.

His breathing becomes slower, but his fingers don’t let go of you, on the contrary, they search for you a little more, as if even that isn’t enough for him to convince himself that you’re still there.

“You’re the first person I want to see when I come back,” he says. “I don’t want anyone else.”

“Of course,” you nod slowly. “I’ll wait for you at the gates of the estate when I get news of your return.”

You lean slightly toward him, just enough for your forehead to touch his.

“So make sure you come back,” you whisper.

Kyojuro exhales slowly again, letting all his tension drain away little by little.

His fingers tighten around yours more firmly.

“Of course,” he replies with a smaller smile, almost bitter. “I can’t leave you alone, my little flame.”

•——————•°•✿•°•——————•

Tomioka Giyuu

The night before the mission you don’t find him in his room. You find him in the garden, practicing with his sword.

Moonlight slides over the steel every time he moves it, drawing silver flashes through the air. His movements are precise and elegant, but there is something different in them, something harsh and desperate.

You walk closer slowly and sit to the side without wanting to interrupt him, staying silent, watching him.

You let out a brief sigh and lift your gaze to the starry sky. You don’t understand Ubuyashiki’s decision to not send you with Giyuu on the mission. After all, you are his tsuguko: your duty is to train with him, fight at his side and accompany him when necessary. However, for some reason, the master doesn’t seem to see you as ready to go with him.

The idea has been running through your mind for days.

Are you not strong enough? Have you made a mistake? Or is there simply something no one wants to tell you?

You press your lips together and look back at the stars, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling settling in your chest.

It’s him who moves first. After performing one last motion, he slowly sheaths his sword. The sound of steel sliding into the scabbard breaks the silence of the night for just an instant, then he turns toward you and walks to where you are sitting.

He doesn’t say anything, he just sits beside you. His shoulder is so close to yours that you can feel the warmth he gives off despite the cool night air.

He takes your hand, carefully, as if holding something fragile and precious. He traps it between his and keeps it there, firm, conveying more than he could ever express with words. His fingers wrap around yours with a soft but steady pressure, as if he wants to make sure you’re still there.

His thumb runs over your knuckles one by one, slowly, memorizing them. The gesture is so gentle it makes your heart skip, then he slightly tilts his head and presses a soft kiss on them.

It’s a simple and small gesture, yet it still manages to make butterflies explode in your stomach.

“I’ll come back,” he murmurs, without stopping his caresses.

You watch him for a few seconds.

“I can do it, you know that, right?” you let out, your voice breaking slightly.

“Yes, I know.”

Your lower lip trembles, you have to look away because everything feels like too much.

“I’m your tsuguko,” you start, holding onto Giyuu’s grip. “I can fight and help, I can support you.”

“Of course, you’re as strong as a Hashira,” even though he says that, he clenches his jaw tightly.

“Then I don’t understand.”

Giyuu doesn’t answer and you let out another sigh.

You take him back to his room by the hand. Normally you sleep in your room, although Giyuu has told you many times to stay with him, but you always refuse, valuing having your own space. Tonight, instead, you stay in his.

You lie there in the room in silence, the shared futon barely lit by the dim light slipping in from outside.

“I don’t want you to go,” Giyuu confesses, breaking the silence.

You lift your head so fast it hurts your neck.

“What? So you-?”

“Please,” he pleads through his teeth. “Let me handle this.”

You stay silent for a few seconds, repeating the sentence in your mind, and then you understand it without him needing to explain, it wasn’t Ubuyashiki who decided to remove you from this mission, it was Giyuu.

You find yourself waiting for anger that never comes, because once you think about it a little more you understand it, and the frustration that could have sparked in you fades before it even takes shape, because if you were in his place you would also want to keep certain missions away from Giyuu, even if it meant carrying the guilt of deciding it alone.

In the morning he leaves before dawn, but his precious haori is folded over the chair in the room.

A promise without words, he will come back.

•——————•°•✿•°•——————•

Himejima Gyomei

He starts crying before you say anything, although not in a loud way.

The tears simply run down his cheeks while he remains kneeling in front of the improvised altar he keeps in his room, hands pressed together and head bowed in prayer.

You sit beside him in silence, settling yourself on the wooden floor without interrupting him. The room stays calm, wrapped only in the distant murmur of the night and Gyomei’s low voice as he finishes his prayers.

Gyomei’s deep voice keeps resonating quietly for several more minutes, you don’t understand all the words, but you don’t need to. You have spent enough nights by his side to recognize when he is praying for the fallen, when he is praying for the living, and when he is simply trying to find peace.

Tonight he seems to be doing all three.

When he finishes, Gyomei exhales slowly and then turns his face toward you. His hands reach for you immediately.

Those huge hands capable of splitting demons in two find your cheeks with a tenderness that never stops surprising you. His thumbs gently stroke your skin with an amazed expression, as if you were the god he prays to whenever he can.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

You frown slightly as your cheeks turn red.

“Why?”

A small smile appears on his lips, although it looks sad.

“For letting me have you.”

Your heart tightens immediately, Gyomei doesn’t usually talk like this: not because he doesn’t feel things, but because he feels so much that words sometimes fall short.

Your hands gently cover his.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you scold him with a small pout.

“Yes, I do,” he answers immediately. “People I never thought I would have the chance to meet bless my life every day. You are one of them.”

You have to look away for a moment as your face turns bright red. Sometimes it’s hard for you to look into Gyomei’s eyes, he looks at you as if you had placed the stars in the sky and created the world.

“You talk like you’re saying goodbye,” a lump forms in your throat.

A small silence settles between you both, Gyomei lowers his head slightly.

“That wasn’t my intention, to worry you.”

“You are worrying me.”

His expression softens.

“I’m not afraid of dying.”

You bite your lip hard, of course you know that and it doesn’t surprise you, Gyomei lives with death every day in a way few can understand. Still, hearing it hurts, because your biggest fear is receiving a crow with news of his death.

“I don’t like it when you talk like that,” you frown, lowering his hands from your face gently.

“I know.”

“Then stop it,” you snap irritably.

A small laugh escapes his lips, it sounds warm and affectionate. Your anger fades just as quickly as it appeared, Gyomei takes the moment and holds your hand.

“I can’t promise that.”

You lower your gaze to your intertwined hands. For the first time since you arrived, you notice something heavy settling in your chest.

You move a little closer, resting your forehead against his chest. The fabric of his uniform is warm and soft against your skin.

“When you come back,” you finally murmur, breaking the silence, “I want us to go to that temple you told me about the other day.”

Gyomei stays quiet, but you hear his heartbeat quicken in his chest.

“And I want you to tell me the whole story this time.”

A more genuine smile appears on his face.

“The whole one?”

“The whole one.”

“It’s a very long story,” he warns, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

“We have time,” you say with a small shrug.

His smile wavers for just a second, but you notice it.

“Don’t you dare make that face at me,” you say. “You will come back.”

Gyomei doesn’t answer, but he rests his face against your hair, inhaling your floral scent. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.

“I will try my best.”

You close your eyes and for the first time all night, he also seems to find something close to peace.

You stay like that for a long time, simply holding each other as the night keeps moving around you, and when one last tear slips down Gyomei’s cheek, it no longer feels like a tear of sadness, but by his prayer.

And you stay there to listen to it.

•——————•°•✿•°•——————•

Iguro Obanai

Obanai doesn’t talk about the mission, he doesn’t even mention it. It’s as if, by not naming it, he could keep it at bay, as if ignoring it made it less real, but you found out about the mission almost at the same time he did, since every time a Hashira leaves for a mission, the whole corps finds out, and if you don’t notice it yourself, they make sure you do.

He is sitting on the edge of the bed with Kaburamaru wrapped around his shoulders. The light in the room falls over him softly, but his posture isn’t soft at all, there is something rigid in the way he holds himself. You can’t quite read his expression while you get ready to go to sleep, you thought you were going to have a conversation before Obanai left, but he doesn’t seem interested in talking to you.

“I don’t understand,” he says quietly. “Why you keep choosing me.”

You freeze when you hear him and slowly turn toward him, but Obanai isn’t looking at you, he is more focused on stroking Kaburamaru, as if he hadn’t said anything, but he did.

You walk closer without saying anything else until you stand in front of him, and then you place yourself between his legs carefully, take his chin gently and make him lift his gaze to you.

Obanai avoids it immediately.

“What makes you think that?” you ask, more out of curiosity than annoyance.

“I’m a Hashira, a demon slayer,” he says heavily. “I might not come back from any mission, with me you won’t have stability or security.”

“Really? I already know that,” you say calmly.

Obanai barely frowns, as if that wasn’t the answer he expected. You lean a little closer to him, forcing him to stay there with you, not inside his thoughts.

“I’m choosing you, fully aware of what you are and what you do, because I love you.”

Obanai’s gaze trembles slightly, but he still avoids yours. So you soften your tone, so he stops getting defensive and actually listens to you.

“And if one day you don’t come back from a mission…” you pause briefly, feeling your eyes grow slightly wet. “It won’t be because it was a mistake choosing you.”

Obanai goes completely still, he doesn’t answer right away, and for the first time since you’ve known him, it doesn’t feel like he is looking for a way out of the situation, but like he simply doesn’t know what to do with what he just heard.

Then very slowly, Obanai lifts his gaze to you, but he doesn’t hold it for more than a second.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he murmurs, trying to sound firm, but his voice sounds broken.

Obanai swallows and it looks like he is going to pull away, stand up, do anything except stay there with you, but instead his hand slowly rises to yours, the one still holding his chin, and he gently moves it away.

“I’m not someone easy to choose,” he admits, closing his eyes.

“Obanai…” you sigh, too shaken to continue.

He stops, his fingers freezing on Kaburamaru. You notice how he shifts slightly away from you, about to stand up, and you frown, there is that version of Obanai again, the one who runs when things get too intense.

So you throw yourself into wrapping your arms around him and the tension in his shoulders breaks all at once. He returns the hug desperately, clinging to your haori, and you stroke the strands of his hair while Obanai presses his face against your shoulder.

“I would choose you in this and in every life that comes after, never doubt it,” you whisper into his ear.

You feel Obanai shiver in your arms and you catch sight of the tips of his ears turning red. You let out a soft laugh, brushing the side of his face with your warm breath and he tightens his arms around your waist in response.

•——————•°•✿•°•——————•

Shinazugawa Sanemi

You end up fighting with him that night, you don’t even remember how it starts.

It’s nothing serious, something that at another moment neither of you would push beyond three words, but tonight Sanemi needs noise, because silence gives him too much space to think.

You know him, you understand exactly what he’s doing.

When you stop answering him halfway through the argument and just look at him, he runs out of fuel all at once. The anger deflates and what’s left underneath twists your heart.

You walk closer to him and gently cup his cheek, and you see how he melts under your touch. His eyes close for just a moment and he turns his face slightly into your palm, looking for more contact without even realizing he’s doing it.

Since your relationship became official, the Master had always tried to keep you together when possible, because he knew perfectly how you worked. It had been you two who requested it at the time, and Ubuyashiki, after observing you for months, had ended up accepting it.

That’s why the decision to send you on two different missions, both dangerous, still feels strange.

“You’re overthinking it,” he snaps.

The smile you try to give him is weak.

“Says the expert.”

That manages to pull something out of him, a snort that almost sounds like a laugh.

You stay together in his room, sitting side by side while the hours move faster than you would like. Sometimes you talk about important things and other times about the most absurd ones, you argue several times over nonsense, just because Sanemi needs to contradict you and because you enjoy making him angry a little too much.

At some point you end up lying down together, sharing the same futon while silence settles comfortably around you. Your head rests on his chest and you hear the steady beat of his heart under the fabric of his uniform. Sanemi keeps one arm around your waist and with the other hand he idly plays with strands of your hair.

When the first rays of dawn come through the window, you know it’s time. You pack your things and Sanemi does the same in silence.

You stop face to face near the main door while the other slayers start preparing for their own journeys.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

The warning makes you smile.

“I could say the same to you,” you raise an eyebrow.

“I never do anything stupid,” he scoffs as you laugh.

Then you both leave in opposite directions.

As you walk away, getting farther from the headquarters, the sound of your own steps following you and the weight of your sword gently hitting your hip, you know you’ll barely be able to focus on the mission. Sanemi calls you and you quickly turn to look at him.

“Don’t die while I’m not there,” he says.

And you laugh, you laugh a lot, like a madwoman, people around you look at you like you’ve lost your mind and Sanemi looks offended.

At that moment you don’t think about the mission or demons or anything like that. You only think about coming back again, about the way his arms will wrap around your waist and how you’ll hide your face against his neck while he pretends he didn’t miss you, and you hold onto that image with everything you have.

Because as long as there is a tomorrow where you can return to his arms, any path feels a little less terrifying.

When you walked into Leona’s room balancing a box large enough to block your view, he was on a call with his nephew. Cheka’s voice was loud enough to be heard from the doorway, the little kid was determined to wish his uncle a happy birthday in as many different ways as possible. Leona finally escaped by muttering something about the connection cutting out and hanging up before the boy could launch into another song.

The dorm wasn’t much quieter though. Somewhere down the hall, several Savanaclaw students were arguing over birthday decorations. A crash followed, then a chorus of accusations.

Leona sat on the edge of his bed with several unopened presents at his feet. His brows were drawn together, and his tail flicked against the mattress in a steady, irritated rhythm.

He looked up, then his gaze moved to the enormous box in your arms. “What’s in that?”

You lowered the box to the floor with a dull thud and pushed it to the foot of the bed. “Your birthday gift. What else?”

“Actually,” you added, “gifts. Twenty-one, to be exact.”

Leona’s ears angled back slightly. “You tryin’ to bury me in junk?” Still, he moved aside to clear space for your gifts on his bed. 

You knelt beside the box. When you lifted the lid, rows of smaller packages were revealed inside, each wrapped separately. Leona leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knee as his eyes passed over the collection. “You weren’t kidding.” 

You rested your hands on the edge of the larger box. “You’ve lived twenty years. I wanted to give something to every version of you that made it this far.”

He picked up the box marked with “1”. “Twenty-one gifts,” he murmured. “You’ve got too much time on your hands.”

He hooked one finger beneath the ribbon. “Better be worth it.”

“It is,” you said. “You are.”

He opened the first box and pulled out a soft blanket embroidered with traditional Sunset Savanna patterns. He ran his thumb over the stitching. “This is for a baby.”

“It was meant for you at one.”

“I had better blankets than this.”

“I know. I still wanted to give it to you.”

He gave you a flat look, though he folded it carefully before setting it aside. The second box contained a carved wooden lion family. Two larger lions stood beside two smaller figures. He held the smallest one up to his eye’s level. “Why is this one frowning?” “I thought that was your default facial expression.”

He smacked you with his tail before placing the figures on top of the blanket.

The third gift was an animal puzzle. The fourth was a children’s coloring book filled with savanna animals and landscapes. Leona looked from one to the other. “You expect me to use these?”

“No. They’re for the versions of you who might have.”

“Hmph.” He flipped through the coloring book. “The lions look ridiculous.” 

“They can always be corrected later.”

“I’m not coloring.”

You chuckled. “Of course not. But Cheka might. Maybe you can give these to him later?”

“I’ll think about that.”

The fifth box was heavier. Inside was a chess set, its pieces polished and neatly arranged. Leona picked up the lion-shaped king between two fingers. 

You leaned closer. “Is that like the one you used for your matches with Kifaji?”

“Close enough.” He set the piece back in its place. “His was just a bit more worn.”

“Even if it was new, I’m sure it would be worn in no time. Kifaji said that you demanded him to play chess with you all the time.”

“I couldn’t let that old bird win forever.”

“How many matches did it take?”

“Seventeen.”

“Seventeen?”

“So what? The eighteenth was mine,” he said, his head held high like the victory had happened yesterday.

The sixth gift was an illustrated field guide bound in green cloth, its cover stamped with small golden paw prints. Inside were bright drawings of Sunset Savanna animals, plants, feathers, tracks, and insects. Short notes had been written beside them in your handwriting: where certain birds liked to nest, which flowers opened after rain, how to tell apart different animal paw prints, what to look for when searching for certain insects.

Leona flipped through several pages. “Why does this sound like Hunt?”

You hesitated. “I asked him for a few details.”

“You involved that freak in my birthday present?”

“He knows a lot about animals.”

“You could’ve asked me.”

“That would have ruined the surprise.”

Leona scoffed, but he continued flipping through the guide even as his ears flattened whenever he encountered a particularly dramatic note. “I’m crossing these parts out.”

“That’s why I used pencil.”

The seventh gift was simpler: a black notebook with no title or decoration. Its pages looked ordinary until Leona brushed his thumb across one. The writing sample you had left there disappeared beneath his touch, leaving the paper clean again.

You elbowed his ribs. “I assumed that 7-year-old you already stewed a lot of thoughts inside.”

He flicked your forehead and shut the notebook before setting it beside the field guide, closer to himself than the earlier gifts. 

The eighth package contained a small mechanical puzzle box made from interlocking pieces of dark wood. Fine gold lines ran across its surface, forming a pattern that appeared decorative. Each panel shifted only after another had been aligned correctly, and false mechanisms reset sections of the puzzle if handled carelessly.

Leona worked in silence, turning it in his hands, testing pressure points with the tip of his finger. After 10 minutes, the box opened with a crisp click.

“You made it too easy,” you rolled your eyes.

“I thought that was meant for 8-year-old me? Of course it was easy for me.”

Inside was a small bronze-colored coin. One side bore the image of a lion, the other had a simple crown engraved. He rolled the coin over his knuckles once, before slipping it into the pocket of his trousers. 

The ninth gift was a box of sweets. His eyebrows raised. “Finally. Something useful.”

“They’re for after martial arts training,” you said. “For when nine-year-old you got beaten up and needed cheering up.”

His hand paused over the lid. “I didn’t need sweets to feel better.”

“What did you do instead?”

“Learned where I made the mistake and made sure it didn’t happen again.”

“That sounds healthy and not at all vindictive.”

“It worked.”

You reached for one when he opened the box but he pulled the box out of your reach. Not petty at all, this one.

The tenth gift was the most carefully wrapped so far. When Leona removed the paper, he found a slim collection of copied inscriptions bound between two stone-gray covers. Each page contained a reproduction of an ancient script, followed by a small amount of contextual information. There's a complete translation at the end of the book.

His earlier irritation disappeared. He sat straighter and turned the first page toward the light. “These aren’t all from the Sunset Savanna.”

“No. They’re beginner-level inscriptions from several regions.”

“Beginner-level,” he repeated, offended.

“You were ten.”

“I could have handled more than this at ten.”

“I’m sure you believed that too.”

His eyes moved over the inscription. “Where did you get these?”

You hesitated for half a second, but as always, Leona noticed.

“Who?”

“Lilia.”

The book lowered.

“You keep involving the worst possible people.”

“He has access to very old material.”

“He is very old material.”

You covered a laugh with your hand before leaning against his shoulder while he skimmed through the inscription. This way you had better access to the sweet box too. What a coincidence.

The eleventh gift was a book on resource management in arid countries. It was a serious-looking volume, bound in weathered brown leather and thick enough to require both hands. Maps, irrigation diagrams, trade routes, mineral surveys, and case studies filled the pages. Several sections had been marked with thin slips of paper.

Leona glanced at the title, then at you. “You’re giving an eleven-year-old economic policy?”

“You’re telling me you didn’t dig through the royal library for these types of books at 11?”

He opened the book and skimmed one of the marked chapters. It described a kingdom that had improved rural water access by combining underground reservoirs with seasonal flood channels.

“At least you know your audience.”

The twelfth gift was more narrow than the others. Inside was a high-quality fountain pen, its body made from dark wood with gold detailing around the grip. Leona rolled it between his fingers. Then he removed the cap and tested the nib against the corner of an old envelope. The ink came out in one clean, dark stroke. “Acceptable.”

Coming from him, it sounded almost extravagant.

The thirteenth gift was the only one that hadn’t been wrapped completely. A small potted plant sat between your hands, its thick green leaves edged with pale silver. A few grains of soil had spilled onto the wrapping despite your attempts to keep it upright.

“This one needs very little water,” you placed it in his hands. “It likes sunlight and being left alone, so I thought you two would get along.”

His eyes narrowed. “Funny.”

“I thought so.”

The pot looked unusually small between his palms. One leaf had folded beneath the paper, and Leona carefully eased it upright with the side of his hand.

“My 13-year-old self would hate this gift.”

“I thought so, again. Still, I trust it in your hands, despite however your 13-year-old self thought your hands could do.”

He looked away from you and carried the plant to the windowsill. He moved an unopened present aside, checked where the light fell, then adjusted the pot until the leaves rested fully in the sun.

“There,” he said.

You looked at the space he had cleared for it. “See? I know it will thrive in your hands.”

His tail flicked once. “Keep talking like that,” he muttered as he returned to the bed, “and I’ll let it die out of spite.” But when the curtain shifted against the pot, he reached back and moved the fabric away from its leaves.

The fourteenth gift caught the sunlight before Leona had fully removed it from the box. It was a glass sculpture, clear at the base and gradually darkening into warm gold near the top. A lion emerged from a sweep of windblown glass, its body only partly formed, as though it were stepping out of a sandstorm. The mane dissolved into long, curved strands behind it. He held it up, turning it slightly. The light fractured through the glass and scattered across his hands.

“Yesterday, I watched a very interesting video about how glass is made from sand,” you said.

He placed it beside the plant. The glass catched light and sprinkled it between the leaves.

The fifteenth gift was an atlas of the Sunset Savanna. It was the official one: a broad volume filled with regional maps, borders, rivers, mineral zones, roads, grazing land, and population centres. Then Leona opened it and saw your handwriting fill the margins. The pages were littered with fragmented information he had told you over time.

You said the grass here turns silver before the first storm.

The market in this town sells the spiced meat you like, though you claim the palace cooks make it better.

You once said this region could support twice its population with proper water storage.

Leona stopped turning the pages. “You wrote all this down?”

“You talk more than you think.”

“I don’t.”

“You do when you’re annoyed.”

His gaze returned to the atlas. “You missed one,” he said eventually.

You leaned closer. “Where?”

He pointed to a stretch of land near the south-eastern border. “There’s an old seasonal route here. It hasn’t been used properly in years, but it could connect these two regions.”

You handed him the new pen.

The sixteenth gift was the last in that row. A grimoire case lay inside, made from dark leather reinforced with gold-toned metal at the corners. The interior was lined with soft fabric, with adjustable straps to hold books of different sizes securely. His initials had been engraved on the clasp.

At sixteen, his invitation to Night Raven College had arrived. He had already received the best education the royal family could provide. He already knew more about magic than many adult mages. There had been no reason, in his mind, to leave for a school that could offer him nothing new.

Still, this was for the boy standing at the edge of a future he couldn’t yet see, carrying knowledge that belonged to him even when every title around him was defined by someone else.

The seventeenth gift was a travel case. It was compact enough to carry easily but sturdier than an ordinary school bag, made from dark brown leather with reinforced corners and broad straps. The interior had been divided into practical compartments: one for books, another for folded clothes, narrow pockets for pens and magical tools.

He tested the bottom and found the hidden latch. You held up the enchanted notebook. “Oh wow, what a surprise. A secret compartment for your secret journal.” “This is too obvious.”

“It took me three attempts to find it after the craftsman demonstrated it.”

“That says more about you than the case.”

Leona set the case beside the grimoire holder. “At least this one can carry the rest of the junk,” he said.

“You like the junk.”

“Keep dreaming.”

The eighteenth present was a rolled sheet of thick parchment secured with a leather tie. When Leona opened it, a full Spelldrive field spread across the page. The goals, boundary lines, elevation changes, and common player positions had been drawn. Smaller transparent overlays showed different formations, each one marked with movable pieces representing players.

He leaned forward, resting one arm across his knee as he studied the first arrangement. “This formation leaves the left side open.”

“Only if the opposing team commits both defenders to the centre.”

“They would.” He slid one of the markers across the map. “Any decent captain would see the pressure point here and force the attack wide.”

You watched as he moved the pieces across the page, changed the spacing between players, tried different formations… He rolled the map carefully after he finished, though he kept one overlay outside. “I’m testing this at the next practice.”

You smiled. “So you like my junk.”

“I said I’m testing it.”

The nineteenth package was smaller. Inside was a captain’s armband, handmade from dark brown fabric and edged with Savanaclaw gold. The stitching was not perfectly even. One section had clearly been redone after someone pulled the thread too tight. Leona ran his thumb across the embroidered captain symbol. Then he turned it over. The inside was covered in signatures.

Leona’s face gave away very little, but you could see the way his eyes tracked every name. “I’m surprised you can convince all of them to sign this.”

You took the armband and wrapped it loosely around his upper arm, just below the edge of his tattoo. “It took very little convincing. It’s for their reliable housewarden, after all,” you said.

“Hmph.” His fingers passed once over the fabric where the names were hidden underneath. “I can imagine their stupid faces when you asked them that.”

The twentieth gift came in a small black box. Leona opened it and found a signet ring resting against dark velvet. The metal was warm gold, and on the face of the ring, a black lion curved around the surface in the same shape as the tattoo wrapped around his upper arm. Beneath it, almost invisible unless the ring was turned toward the light, were his initials.

Leona lifted the ring from the box and turned it slowly between his fingers. The polished metal caught the room’s light, making the black lion seem to move across its surface.

“You had this made?”

“I designed it.”

“That explains why the proportions are slightly off.”

“They are not.”

“The tail should curve lower.”

You reached for the ring. “Give it back, then.”

His hand closed before you could take it. “I’m feeling accepting today.”

He slid it onto his finger. Then his gaze moved to the gifts surrounding him. The blanket. The carved lions. The puzzles and books. The plant standing in the sunlight. The atlas filled with his own observations. The grimoire case marked with his initials. The travel case, the tactic map, the armband signed by the dorm that had placed its hope in him.

Twenty versions of Leona Kingscholar, gathered together in one room.

“So, twenty gifts for twenty years.” Leona’s tail curled around your waist. “You said there were twenty-one though.”

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a velvet pouch. Leona watched as you loosened the cord and tipped a single brass key into your palm.

He stared at it.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

He took the key from you, turning it once between his fingers. It was old, slightly tarnished, and unmistakably ordinary compared to the other gifts. “What does it open?”

“Ramshackle.” You reached out and moved the tip of your finger slowly over the worn teeth of the key. “You already steal my bed, complain about the furniture, and treat the lounge like your private nap room. I thought you might as well have your own key.”

You pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Not just Ramshackle though. Whatever happens next, I hope you know that you’ll always have a place with me.”

The noise in the hallway seemed farther away now. His tail, which had been resting loosely around your waist, tightened just slightly.

Leona closed his fingers around the key. “I’ll show up whenever I want.”

“You already do.”

“I could stay for days.”

“You already do that too.”

“I might move my things in.”

You glanced around at the twenty gifts surrounding him. “Apparently, you have luggage now.”

Your gaze had just been turned back towards him when his arm hooked around your waist and pulled you against him. You landed partly across his lap, one hand braced against his chest. He pressed his face briefly into the side of your neck, hiding his expression. His ears brushed your hair, and his grip stayed firm around your waist.

The key remained secure in his other hand. “You better not give anyone else one,” he murmured.

You smiled against his shoulder. “Possessive.”

“Answer me.”

“No one else.”

“Hmph. Good.”

He pulled back, then kissed you. It was unhurried, warm, and far gentler compared to the way his arms trapped you against him. You felt like he was taking every word you had said, every breath you let out. He kissed you until the room, the hallway, and the twenty opened gifts around you blurred into irrelevance. Until the only things you could feel were the way his hand grasp at your shirt, the warmth of his skin underneath your hand, the soft tickle of his breath beneath your nose, the thud of your combined heartbeat.

When he finally pulled back, it was only far enough for you to breathe. You glanced down at his closed hand. “So you like the gift?”

Leona opened his fingers. The key lay across his palm beneath the signet ring, plain brass against gold. He looked at it once, then closed his hand around it again. “Try keeping me out,” he murmured, his nose brushing yours as he leaned close again.

You smiled against his mouth. “I wasn’t planning to.”

“Hmph. Smart.”

"But you're too comfy babe," kiri smiled before hugging you even closer. "Might never let go actually—"

His chest now touching yours and hands caressing your arms, you couldn't deal with the heat and your clingy lover right now. Katsuki not even helping the case as his hands let out tiny sparkles due to his sweat—you could tell he was being carefull with it though.

"Might as well explose me, dying because of the sun isn't any better." You sighed, finally giving up, your tank top now sticking to Eijirou's.

"Hm, no."

At his disappointing answer, you looked back at the redhead—visibly confused when you could see him thinking, the gears in his head turning. "Now what are you thinking about."

"You actually. If you're that bothered by the heat then why not take a cold shower together?" He suggested, not even waiting for an answer before sitting up and pulling your ankles. "To the shower we go princess!"

Both walking to the bathroom with you looked at katsuki standing up and looking for clothes y'all could wear without dying by the heat.

Maybe it's not that bad actually.

Just this morning, before he went to university to prepare for the match, he’d insisted for you to wear his away-jersey instead. And unlike the team’s usual navy blue uniform, the away jersey was predominantly white with navy blue accents— a design the team rarely wore. So it stood out effortlessly in the crowd of navy blues filling the stadium, and across your back were the words:

BAKUGOU       10

“Wear this.”

“Your away-jersey?”

“People should know who you’re cheerin’ for.”

“Maybe I should scream your name while I’m at it.”

“Good. I should hear it when I’m on the other side.”

“I’m joking—”

“And I’m not.”

Your train of thought was interrupted by the sudden thunderous cheers of the crowd. Your eyes drifted towards the left stadium entrance just as the Yuuei soccer team jogged onto the field and towards the bench area.

At the very front of the group was Katsuki. The captain’s armband clung to his beefy left arm, while a black headband pushed his ash-blond hair away from his face— and he looked insanely hot. Unfortunately, you weren’t the only one who noticed.

“Bakugou looks so hot!”

“I’d let him yell at me.”

“I heard he has a girlfriend.”

“That’s right— it’s me.”

“You wish!”

“Sorry girls, but I'm the girlfriend.”

The group burst into laughter, joking among themselves, and the three of you heard every word.

“Oh… if only they knew.” Mina murmured while you simply smiled to yourself.

As the team gathered near the bench for the coach’s final instructions, Katsuki’s eyes drifted towards the stands, sweeping across countless faces looking for someone. And when his eyes landed on you, he smiled— clearly satisfied with you wearing his jersey.

“Did you see that?”

“Oh my god!”

“He smiled at me!”

“No! He smiled at me.”

“He was totally looking at me.”

“I literally made eye contact with him.”

“I told you I’m the girlfriend!”

Mina and Kyoka beside you snickered while you bit the inside of your cheek just to keep yourself from laughing. 

As the match started, a sharp whistle echoed throughout the stadium, and the crowd erupted into cheers as both teams rushed into action. The ball moved swiftly from one player to another, then a clean pass found its way to Katsuki.

And without thinking— you stood up from your seat.

“GO KATSUKI!”

Several nearby students glanced your way, especially the group of girls sitting behind you.

“Did she just call him Katsuki?”

“How dare she!”

“Who is she to use his given name like that?”

Mina slowly turned her head just enough to glare at them before looking back at you.

“Don’t mind them.”

“They’re just gonna embarrass themselves.” Kyoka said, already looking annoyed by the group of girls.

If only they knew.

You ignored them simply because they had no idea you were the actual girlfriend. After all, this was the first game of the season— first official match with Katsuki as the team captain. It’s also the first match you attended as his girlfriend. Not a lot of people knew about your relationship yet.

Unfortunately, just because you ignored them, doesn’t mean the comments were going to stop.

“The audacity to wear an away-jersey too.”

“I bet she had that customized.”

“Exactly! Since the university only sells navy-blue ones.”

“That’s so delulu of her.”

Kyoka, sitting beside you, looked like she was seconds away from standing up.

“Just say the word, I’ll punch them.”

“Kyoka, it’s fine—”

You simply smiled to yourself and kept your eyes on the field. No amount of whispering from strangers was going to ruin your excitement over watching Katsuki. If anything, it only made you cheer louder.

“GO ON DARLING!”

After more than 90 minutes of the match, the final whistle rang across the stadium, followed by the explosion of cheers from the home crowd. 

Yuuei had won. 

Students cheered loudly while waving their banners in celebration. The Yuuei team players gathered near the bench, patting one another on the back and pulling each other for a hug. Katsuki joined in the celebration, accepting the congratulations with his signature smug smirk, clearly satisfied with the way their team won— in pure dominance.

Without a hint of embarrassment, you shouted as loudly as you could.

“THAT’S MY HONEY!”

Mina immediately burst into laughter while Kyoka just snickered beside you. They both knew you shouted just to rile up the girls who have been talking shit about you the whole game.

“She’s never gonna stop, is she?”

“I’m so embarrassed for her.”

“She really thinks she’s Bakugou’s girlfriend.”

“Even I could never.”

You ignored them for the hundredth time, too busy being happy with Yuuei’s victory to care.

As the team finished celebrating together, the players turned towards the crowd and thanked everyone who supported them before making their way back to their locker room.

And instead of following his team, Katsuki broke away and jogged towards your direction.

“Hold on…”

“He’s coming over here.”

“Oh my god!”

Within seconds, the group of girls frantically reached out for their make up kits, reapplying their blushes and lipsticks while hurriedly fixing their hair, desperate to look their very best for Katsuki.

Your Katsuki.

“How do I look?”

“Is my collar crooked?”

“Fix my stray hairs please!”

“I told you he was smiling at us!”

“He totally saw how pretty we are.”

The moment Katsuki reached your section, you stepped away from your seat and walked towards the railing. Katsuki waited for you on the other side of the barrier, one hand casually resting on the railing as he slightly looked up to you.

“So…” A faint smile tugged at his lips, “Did you enjoy the game?”

“Of course!” You nodded excitedly while smiling at him. “You were so cool out there.”

His signature smug smirk only grew.

“Yeah?” He tilted his head slightly while raising a brow at you. “Where’s my congratulations kiss?”

“In here?!”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Haah… seriously.” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes at him. 

Despite your initial embarrassment, you leaned over the railing anyway, gently cupped his cheek before giving a quick kiss to his lips.

When you pulled away, you saw Katsuki with his grin even wider than before. Not giving a single care to anyone who watched him kiss his girlfriend.. In fact, it only inflated his ego knowing everyone had witnessed it.

Behind you, the group of girls stood frozen in shock, their eyes wide and mouths hanging open. Mina and Kyoka, on the other hand, are exchanging amused glances with each other, just watching everything unfold.

“...No way.”

“No fucking way.”

“Did she just…”

“Kissed Bakugou?!”

“That should have been me.”

“Do you think she heard all of that?”

Kyoka just burst into laughter, finally giving up trying to hold it in while Mina looked back at the girls with a grin.

“You bet we did!

All that endless chatter, Katsuki heard every single one of it. He glanced past your shoulder towards the group behind you. A smirk painted his face as he pieced together what had been happening all game.

Then he drifted his attention back to you and without sparing a moment, pulled you closer over the railing.

“Wait, Katsu—”

Before you could finish, Katsuki kissed you again, much longer than the first kiss you gave him. Long enough for your blood to rise up to your cheeks, and especially long enough for those girls behind you to finally realize how wrong they had been.

And when he was fully satisfied, Katsuki pulled away.

“Maybe that’ll shut them up.”

爆豪 勝己 — back to the main masterlist ⊹ ࣪ ˖🫧

(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡ taglist for anything katsuki: @moritas-tiny-theatre @yoloforlifeee

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © my hero academia, horikoshi. © middle artwork, oroshi_mi from twitter. KACCHARINE — anything in here is written by me. do not copy, feed to ai, or repost anywhere.

The hallway was pitch black and freezing cold. Shivering, you tiptoed down the corridor, making sure to avoid the squeaky floorboards until you reached a door with a tiny, familiar explosion keychain hanging from the handle.

You tapped the door handle, praying it wasn’t locked. With a soft click, it gave way.

Stepping into Katsuki’s room felt like walking into a completely different climate zone. It was incredibly warm, smelling faintly of burnt sugar and his usual spicy body wash. You closed the door behind you with agonizing slowness, holding your breath until it clicked shut.

In the center of the room, buried under a mountain of heavy blankets, was Katsuki. He was a notoriously early sleeper, so he was already completely knocked out, snoring softly into his pillow. His usual spiky blonde hair was a messy, flattened disaster.

You crept over to the side of his bed. Normally, waking Katsuki up in the middle of the night was a death wish, but you were desperate.

Carefully, you lifted the edge of the heavy comforter and slid into the bed. The immediate blast of warmth was amazing. You shuffled closer to his back, trying to be as quiet as a mouse, and gently wrapped one arm around his waist, burying your face between his shoulder blades.

The second you touched him, Katsuki stirred.

He let out a deep, gravelly groan, shifting his weight. For a terrifying second, you thought he was going to blast you into next week. But instead, he slowly rolled over to face you. His eyes were barely open, squinting through the dark room, heavy with sleep.

"The hell...?" he mumbled, his voice incredibly deep, rough, and raspy from sleep.

"I couldn't sleep," you whispered, suddenly feeling a little guilty for waking him. "Can I stay?"

Katsuki didn't even answer verbally. He just let out another long, defeated sigh that huffed against your forehead. But before you could apologize, his large, ridiculously warm arms reached out and wrapped securely around your waist.

With one effortless tug, he pulled you flush against his chest, tucking your head right under his chin. One of his hands rested flat against your lower back, while his legs tangled up with yours under the sheets. It was like being held by a human radiator.

He buried his face into your hair, inhaling deeply, his grip tightening just a fraction as if to make sure you weren't going anywhere.

"Go to sleep, dumbass," he muttered in a thick, half-asleep voice, the words slurring together perfectly.

You couldn't help but smile into his chest, your heart doing a little flip. The anxiety and restlessness that had kept you awake for hours instantly melted away, replaced by the rhythmic, calming thump of his heartbeat against your cheek.

"Goodnight, Katsuki," you whispered.

He just let out a soft, grumbly sound in response, already drifting back into dreamland. Safe and warm in his arms, it didn't take you more than two minutes to finally fall fast asleep.

A/N: I forgot to post this yesterday...

@akira-dragon-archive do not plagiarize, edit or feed any of my works into any ai platforms.

Even through your narrowed eyes you scanned his body seeing no wounds or marks that were concerning. He smiled as he watched what your eyes checking him out, “Yeah sweetheart everything’s ok,” he tilts his head to the side a little, “You should be asleep though,” 

“Sleeps just a mindset”

“Stubbornness is too” 

You scoff which earns a breathy laugh from him. He presses a soft quick kiss to your forehead before he stands up and makes his way to the bathroom to change. 

Touya thinks about his patrol earlier as he gets ready for bed. Sliding off his hero uniform, he stands in the shower. The water runs hot as it goes over his body, his hair seeping wet. He holds one hand against the cold tiles, running his other through his snow white hair. His muscles hold tension from the day’s work, his mind running around in circles. From paperwork to patrolling to the marvelous phone call he received from his dad earlier. 

Right that phone call.  

“Hello?” 

“Son.” Endeavors rough voice crackles through the speaker, “Nice speech. It seems the public took a liking to it.” 

Well, that was a relief. In all honesty, Touya went up there completely unprepared. The only thing he thought of was protecting you. He couldn’t help but feel some sort of pride knowing that his dad thought he did good. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he sought for his dad’s approval more than he should. The only person who knows that is the only person he can let himself be vulnerable with: you. 

“Glad you approve,” his tone is sarcastic, but he’s glad his father isn’t ripping his head off or anything like that. 

“I’ll cut to the chase then, you and your girlfriend will be coming over this Friday for dinner,” 

Touya blinks, once, twice, processing the fact that his father asked--no stated dinner plans. 

“Hell no!” Touya was firm and set with his response, “I’m not having you guys scare her off!” 

“Don’t be dramatic, we won’t scare her off,” Endeavor scoffed on the other side of the phone, “We just want to meet the girl that managed to steal the heart of our hot-headed son is all,” 

“You’re disgusting,” 

“You’re being silly, it’s just a dinner what could possibly go wrong,” 

“Better question, what won’t,” 

He then heard murmurs of voices behind Endeavor which is what he presumes the rest of his family. He can imagine Fuyumi and Natsuo huddling over the speaker, his Mom and Shoto on the other end of the couch listening intently. 

“Touya? It’s Mom,” 

He relaxed a little at the sound of his mothers delicate and soft-spoken voice, but still he was not budging one bit.

“Hi Mom,” His tone usually softens when he’s speaking to his mom, she was always patient with him and never yelled at him even when he deserved it. Quite the opposite of how he usually speaks to his dad. They usually meet their tempers eye to eye. 

“Touya, honey why don’t you invite the girl over for dinner,” His mom lightly suggests, “What was her name again?” 

Touya sighs and says your name, his heart fluttering remembering that you’re probably home doing some leisurely activity. Gosh he couldn’t wait to hold you and shower you with kisses. He shakes his hand before he tumbles down a road of fantasyland and focuses back to the conversation at hand, “And the answer is still no,” 

“PLEASE! WE WANNA MEET HER!” He almost jumps hearing his sister’s insistence booming through the speaker loud and clear, but just as quickly as it came the speaker cuts muffled again which what he assumes is Natsuo stealing the phone from Fuyumi, “Fuyumi shush, dude you’re so secretive about your life how come you didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend,” 

“So I could avoid this conversation,” 

“Ah that didn’t go so well when you shamelessly kissed her in public, now did it? Very reckless of you big bro!” 

“You little--”

“Enough!” Endeavor scolds, taking back his phone from Natsuo’s hand. He clears his throat, lowering his voice back down in a respectable manner, the voice Touya knows too well. The one that means Touya had no room to argue and that this dinner was happening no matter how much he protested. “Touya we’ll see you here, Friday at 7:00pm got it?” 

Touya pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing in the nature around him so that he doesn’t lose his temper, “Fine,” he mutters through clenched teeth, “See you then, but I swear the second you start grilling her or making her uncomfortable I won’t hesitate to--” 

“Awwww he’s so protective over her, I never thought I’d see the day my big brother was in love,” Fuyumi interrupts squealing on the other side, enjoying seeing Touya’s usually reserved nature care for someone. 

The tips of Touya’s ears turn pink, he bites his tongue holding back from saying some very colorful words due to the fact that he can imagine his parents right there. “Fuyumi” he practically growls, warning her not to start something. 

The call cuts before Touya starts going off about what a nosy annoying brat she is. He looks down at his phone, his reflection looking back at him through the black screen. He sighs running a hand over his face when he realizes that he has to sprout these new plans onto you. 

Which brings him back to the present, he finished getting ready for bed. Wearing a black shirt that hugs his muscles just right, and grey sweatpants that hung a little low around his waist. He climbs into bed next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you closer. Your back fits against his chest just right, as if you were made to be there. He thinks about how he should tell you the news. 

The thing is he knows you, you’re an anxious people pleaser to put it gently. You hate being a burden to people, even with the smallest things. And he loves that about you but that at the same time he hates it. He wants you to understand that you’re never anything below perfect to him no matter what you do. 

He can already imagine your reaction to hearing that his family wants to meet you, you’re going to spiral in a never ending panic. From wondering what you should wear to whether they’d hate you. And he knows his family would love you, who wouldn’t you’re easy to love. But you’ll stress more and more as the days approach, his goal is to get you to understand he’ll be by your side through it all. And that no matter what happens he’s never leaving you. 

He buries his face against your hair smelling the strawberry coconut shampoo you use, his favorite. He presses a small kiss to the top of your head hesitating a little, “Hey baby, you awake?” He whispers quietly enough he didn’t want to be heard, hoping he wasn’t heard because then he wouldn’t have to ask the question. 

But you, being the observant little being you are, heard and gave a small hum in response. 

“How would you feel about dinner with my family this Friday,” he mutters against your temple, tilting his head watching your expression. There was really no other way to say it but straight. 

Your eyes immediately widen as you fully process what he just asked, the sleep in your body leaving immediately. You immediately turn around in his grip, his hand resting lightly on your waist keeping you close, “Dinner…with your family…this Friday?” You repeat slowly making sure you understand every word. Your breathing comes in a little quick as you start thinking of different scenarios to come. 

Touya smirks watching your flabbergasted expression, he predicted this exactly “That’s what I said yes,” He holds back a laugh as he watches you take in what he dropped on you. 

“You tell me this now!? That’s not enough time!” your voice goes up a couple octaves making Touya laugh involuntarily. You sit up on both your elbows making a mental checklist for yourself, “Should I bring something? I don’t have any clothes, do I wear a sweater? Is your--” 

“Baby, baby,” Touya shushes you up by covering your mouth with the palm of his hand, the smell of his soap, which smelled very masculine and like the forest, filling your senses. “Shut up for a second, yeah? Take a breather.” 

He inhales and exhales guiding you to do the same, he holds himself up on his elbow watching you take a deep breath before speaking again, “They just wanna see the girl who managed to see past all my bullshit,” His voice softens, his eyes full of amusement as he watches you come slightly down from the high of emotions you were on. 

Even with his reassurance you couldn’t calm down though, I mean this is Touya’s family we’re talking about, you’re so in love with him you have to make a good impression. And it doesn’t help that his dad used to be the number one pro hero! That makes it even more intimidating! 

You huff mocking him, “‘Take a breather’ oh please easy for you to say this is your family we’re talking about! What if they think I’m not good enough for you?” You look up at him, a hint of insecurity in your glittery eyes. He takes notice of the way your eyes glisten; he brushes his thumb over the small plump of your bottom lip. 

“Fuck them then,” he says firmly, his smirk never unwavering. Your head snaps towards him with confused, wide eyes making his amusement grow even more. Gosh, you couldn’t even know how gone he is for you. “You’re more than enough for me, I love you just as you are. My family’s opinion doesn’t change that.” 

The way his words hit you is an indescribable feeling. Your chest tightens, your big eyes widening slightly immediately captivates his attention. He kisses your forehead, gently guiding you to lay back down next to him. “We’ll talk more in the morning, ok? For now, just get some sleep princess,”

His eyes drift shut locking away his turquoise irises, his arm wraps around your waist pulling you closer than you were before. Your head rests under his chin, smooshed against his firm hard chest. His smell is the only thing grounding you from the different trains of thought running through your mind. 

The only thing you know about the Todoroki’s is whatever’s on the news and the stories Touya tells you. You wonder what they were like in person though. 

Should I bring them flowers or chocolate? What do I talk about? What questions are they gonna ask me? What if they hate me? 

Your thoughts get interrupted by Touya gently squeezing your waist, his hand moving gently to the small of your back. He rubs his fingers up and down your spine gently, as if he could coax the overthinking out of your head. He presses his lips to the top of your head, his voice warm and quiet, “Baby, I can practically hear you thinking,” his touch lulls you, your eyelids feel heavy. 

“You expect me to sleep when I just found out I’m meeting my boyfriend’s parents on Friday? Today’s Wednesday, by the way, gives me no time to mentally prepare!” You whine, you’re unable to stay still and get comfortable. 

He can sense the anxiety this is giving you and mentally curses himself for not waiting until the morning to tell you. But then you’d be mad he didn’t tell you as early as he could so there was no winning for him to begin with. 

“I can cancel if you really feel uncomfortable,” he combs through the silky strands of your hair with his fingers, “Don’t feel pressured baby, I don’t wanna put you under any pressure.” 

You canceling would save me a lot of trouble, he thinks to himself. 

“No! Absolutely not!” You insisted, looking at him like he was the one insane. As if you didn’t just worry yourself for the past ten minutes. 

He pulls back, enough so he could look at your face with confusion etched all over. His eyebrows scrunch together, he opens his mouth and closes it, “What? Did you say no? Babe you’ve literally been freaking out.” 

You roll your eyes as if he was the incompetent one, “We can’t just cancel on them, they’re gonna think that I’m hiding something or that I don’t want to meet them, which isn’t true I do want to meet them I’m just scared they won’t like me,” The idea of Touya’s family not liking you frightens you more than anything, if they don’t approve of you it feels like you’re not worthy of him. 

Touya sighs and rolls his eyes this time, “You inconsistent worrywat” he pulls your head back against his chest with a muffled “hey” coming from you. “You’re gonna do great, and I’ll be with you every step of the way,” 

“Besides, if we need escape options I’m not above setting the table on fire,” he adds trying to lighten the mood, his eyes darted down watching your reaction. You couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle at that, it’s so typical of your boyfriend to light something on fire in your honor. He’s a bit of a pyromanic that way. 

“My hero” 

“Damn straight,” he smiles at your natural sarcasm, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. Both his arms wrap around you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other snaking around your waist gently holding you. The two of you are silent, the only sounds in the room being the AC and your breathing. 

Today’s events catch up to Touya, his eye movement growing slower and slower. He feels the sleep coming over him. The mixture of warmth from his body heat and the fluff of the blanket make you feel toasty, you shut your eyes for a second. 

What was only just a second turned out to be hours because you woke up to sunlight shining on your face through the window blinds. The early morning light makes you groan into your pillow, rubbing your eyes with one hand, you use your free one to reach to the other side of the bed. 

You're met with an empty side feeling the softness of the bedsheet and not your boyfriend. You turn your head and see the spot where Touya was now vacant. You groan into your hands not wanting to get up, “Touya?” your voice called out, tired and sleepy. 

He doesn’t have patrol or anything today, you push yourself off the bed, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. Your feet are met with the cold wood floor, you look at your surroundings: the walls, the door to the main room are all blurry due to the way your eyes haven’t fully opened yet. 

You walk out of the bedroom, your pajamas rumpled from sleep and your hair in a slight frizz. You’re met with the smell of pancakes floating through the air mixed with the sweet smell of strawberries and syrup. 

Touya had woken up before you, he felt bad about sprouting his family dinner on you last night causing you a wave of anxiety to wash over. So, he’s trying to make it up to you in everyone’s favorite love language: breakfast in bed. 

But, of course you had to wake up before he could present you his course. He heard the soft patter of your footsteps and turned around. His expression softened at how adorable you look with a bedhead and a sleepy expression plastered on your face. You walked over to him leaning against his arm, watching as the waffle batter sizzled on a hot pan. He smiles looking down at you, “Hey sweetheart, you sleep okay?” Touya pressed a brief kiss to the top of your head before going back to flipping the pancakes. 

You nod letting a small yawn escape you, “What time did you wake up?” you sighed, closing your eyes against his arm. Your eyes look up at him, admiring the side of his face. Gosh he always had such a great side profile. The sharp side of his jaw, the way his white locks fall over his eyes just barely, pieces of his hair sticking up in different places. His sweatpants hung low around his wait, his shirt doing nothing to conceal the hard muscles that lie underneath. 

He noticed how relaxed you are which was weird considering how much you were freaking out last night. Then it realized that it probably hadn’t hit you yet. 

Touya looks up at the ceiling recalling when he’d waken up, the sun hadn’t risen yet the orange hues were just at the border bleeding through the sky, “Maybe an hour ago,” He scoops the pancake off the pan, delicate placing it on the plate in front of you. 

“Sit down, I’ll bring you them,” He wraps his hand on your hip, turning you around and ushering you to one of the chairs by the table. You let yourself be guided by him letting out a small ‘oof’. Your brain was still a bit of a mush from post-wake up. The sound of the kitchen items clanking together, the stove fire making sharp sounds through the air. 

He places the plate in front of you, the smell of the freshly hot pancakes blessing your sense of smell. You immediately smile, your eyes brightening---you look up at him and he’s already looking down at you admiring your reaction. He sits down next to you with his own plate in front of him. The syrup placed in the middle of you, glasses of orange juice on the side of your plates. Usually, he doesn’t do these grand gestures unless something is up. 

“I was planning on making you breakfast in bed, why’d you have to ruin my plan and wake up you little brat,” he teases, squeezing your cheek between the knuckle of his pointer and thumb. 

You laugh, the sound of your joy filling the air making his chest tighten and a smirk appear on his face. He leans on his elbow, tilting his head and resting his cheek against the palm of his hand. He felt like a high school boy admiring the girl he likes. 

The rise of a faint pink colors your cheeks under the heat of his gaze, “You’re being awfully sweet this morning,” your voice was light and teasing with an undertone of suspicion. You definitely didn’t mind how affectionate he was being yet you can’t help but question it. “Did you do something you weren’t supposed to or…” 

Touya laughs at your suspicious tone, his voice was low and his smirk never wavered, “I can be sweet when I want to be. Although, it seems I have to do it more often if you’re gonna keep questioning me like this,” 

“I wouldn’t mind that,” You didn’t miss a beat, your smile was innocent while his was flirty and dangerous. 

“Hmm no doubt,” he leans forward a little, pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss. He feels how you melt against him and his lips form a smile against yours. He pulls back slightly, watching your expression through half-lidded eyes. 

He presses a quick kiss to the tip of your nose and grabs the syrup pouring the sweet gooeyiness over his pancakes. You do the same grabbing your fork and knife cutting the softness into pieces. The fluffiness melting against your tongue instantly, you smile to yourself in content. Touya always made the best pancakes. 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence, the outside world awake now. The sun has fully risen now, people going to work, the sounds of birds chirping clear as day even through the windows. Just as when you thought it would be a peaceful morning, little did you know that that peace would not last forever. 

He watches you for a second, a slightly guilty expression washing over him before bringing up the inevitable, “So,” he puts his fork down, the metal clinking against the plate, he crosses his arms over the table, “About last night,” 

You pause mid-bite, the tips of the fork pressed against your bottom lip. Last night? 

Oh. 

Right.

Dinner. On Friday. 

Your smile falters when you recall last night’s surprise. 

“Right,” you continue chewing the pancake, slower this time. You thought the whole thing had been a dream. But no, reality is you’re meeting his family tomorrow. 

“Dinner with your parents this Friday?” There’s a slight shakiness in your voice giving away your nervousness. He takes your hand gently, as if it’s unreasonable not to give you comfort in some way. 

“They’re intimidating at first I’ll admit, but once you get to know them you’ll see how harmless they are,” he scrunches his nose thinking about how insane his family can be. To outside people, they might think that the Todoroki’s are intimidating and condescending but in reality they’re just people who happen to have powerful quirks, they have their good times and bad. But at this moment he’s trying to lighten it up. 

“I met your parents, how is this any different?” 

“How about because my family isn’t one of the most known in the country?” 

“Details,” he waved you off. It's funny how Touya forgets how well-known his family is, “Finish your pancakes, I can help you relax later if you want,” he winks, catching you off guard for a second. 

You narrow your eyes at his flirty tactics and swat him, “Now is not that time,” you scold although there was no heat behind it. He ruffles your hair in response, messing up your bedhead even more before smoothing out the strands. 

“Do they know anything about me,” you tentatively ask, big wide eyes staring up at him. 

Touya sighs, hesitating before responding. His family didn’t even know you existed till before the media. He doesn’t want you to think 

“They know that I’m protective of you,” he finally says. “Which to them means your worth something,” 

You don’t really know how to react to that, his family is meeting you without knowing anything about you. They don’t have any background knowledge on who is stepping into their home holding their eldest son’s hand. He notices the anxiety etched onto your face and his expression falters for a minute. He truly didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just when it comes to his personal life he tends to keep it to himself and far from his family because he doesn’t want them to ruin something good--especially his father. 

“Listen,” he starts, tilting his head to catch your eyes and make sure you’re listening to him. “I didn’t tell them because I’m embarrassed of you or anything like that--far from it actually. I just…” he trails off, his eyes darting to the side figuring out the best way to explain it. 

“I just didn’t want them to ruin something…good,” he finally says, “I didn’t want them to have a say in what I do for once,” From the times he had shown you a little bit of vulnerability, you knew he had a tendency to tend to his family’s wishes. You sympathize at the thought, putting a hand over his lightly. No matter how much of a rebellious persona he puts on, deep down he does care and doesn’t want to be a disappointment.

You press a light kiss to his cheek, lingering longer than you should. One that’s supposed to reassure him as if saying you love him for him. 

When you pull back you offer him a smile, one that always makes his heart beat faster. He brings his finger up to the corner of your smile pressing into it as if he could keep it there forever. It’s practically embedded into his brain now. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” No matter how many times he compliments you, you’ll get caught off guard every time. And it’s amusing to him every time. 

“Shut up” that pulls a chuckle out of him, the warmth of his hand leaves your face cold when he lets you finish your breakfast.

“I have to go shopping,” you declare breaking whatever silence was lingering, you give him a look, “And you’re coming with,” 

He smiles because he knew he was going with you no matter what you say, “Yes ma’am,” 

You spent the rest of the day buying things in order to prepare for tomorrow. Touya, just like he promised, was by your side through it all. Through buying new clothes, deciding between flowers and chocolates (you ended up choosing chocolates because Touya revealed Fuyumi and Natsuo’s love for sweets). 

Now Touya is driving you both back home, the sun is hiding back under the horizon. Traffic is slow today, the drive calm despite the tension lingering underneath. 

“Don’t tell me you're still freaking out,” Touya breaks the silence, his eyes never leaving the road. One hand was on the wheel, the other gently resting on your thigh giving it a slight squeeze when he noticed the tension. 

“You’re gonna worry yourself to death babe,” He couldn’t help but let out a snicker. 

“I’ll stop worrying when it’s Saturday,” 

“You’re gonna lose your hair stressing yourself,” 

“Wait what?”

He lets out an unfiltered laugh at the way you paused. He can feel your eyes boring into the side of his head, “It’s true, the more you stress yourself the faster you lose your hair,” he absolutely loses it when he sees you clutching your hair immediately. 

He couldn’t help but tease you a bit, it was so funny seeing how flustered you get. “Where’d you read that?” You were astonished by this not so fun fact considering you tend to overthink the smallest things a lot. 

It was funny to Touya considering how you were more composed when you two were leaked to the public then meeting his parents. 

“Doesn’t matter, what matters is for you to get out of your head,” he says, tapping a finger to your forehead.

He smirks an idea popping into his head, “And if you can’t, I can always help you out with that,” his voice drops down to a seductive, sultry tone making your body heat up. As much as you’d love to give into his flirty antics…and help him relive you. You wouldn’t be able to think straight knowing that you’re meeting his parents tomorrow. 

Maybe later though…

The time had finally come, you were standing outside of his old house. Touya had already knocked on the door so the two of you were just standing next to each other waiting. You were wearing a dark blue sweater with light blue jeans that complimented your beautiful eyes. Your hair was down, the front two strands being pulled together by a bow. Touya was in a black button down shirt and jeans, his hand was around your hip, thumb rubbing circles against the fabric grounding you. 

You were holding your breath waiting for the door to inevitably open, he smirked giving you a side eye. “Breath sweetheart, don’t want you passing out before the door even opens,” he whispered to you. 

Despite his composed front, he couldn’t help the nerves that started to rise up. He checks his watch as a nervous tick, it reads 7:00 meaning you guys were right on time. He told himself he didn’t care about his family’s approval or anything, this was just a formality. It’s still true, he loves you to the moon and back but the thought of his family not liking you stung him more than he’d like to admit. 

You inhale and exhale, the time for the door to open feels like millions of years have gone by. It’s hard to tell whether you would rather they open the door or not. But alas the door opens with more force than intended by a very tall figure.

Enji Todoroki. 

His broad shoulders, rigid posture, spiky red hair and a scar that runs on one side of his face from his hair to past his eye. He wasn’t scowling but he wasn’t smiling either which made your heart beat faster. 

His gaze landed on Touya first. It lingered, heavy and unreadable, before shifting to you. 

For a moment, the silence stretched. 

Then--

“...You’re here,” was all he said. 

Not welcoming, but not unkind either. Just…acknowleding. Which made you want to run even faster. 

Touya clicked his tongue. “Yeah, that tends to happen when you invite people.” 

Enji shot a quick glare at his son for sarcasm before moving aside, “...Come in.” 

So ominous. 

The inside of the house was warmer than you expected--not just temperature, but feeling. Polished wood floors gleamed under soft lighting, the faint scent of simmering food drifting from deeper inside. It felt lived in, despite the tension that clung to it. 

You barely had a second to take it in before--

“Oh!” 

Soft footsteps approached quickly.A woman appeared from around the corner, her cheeks puffed out from how big she was smiling, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw you. 

You recognized the girl from some of the family photos you saw on Touya’s phone. 

Fuyumi. 

The way she didn’t hesitate had your nerves easing just a bit. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, her voice warm that reminded you of chocolate chip cookies for some reason. She reached out, gently taking your hands in hers like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’m Fuyumi.” 

Her grip was soft, reassuring--not overwhelming, just…grounding. 

“It’s really nice to meet you,” you said, meaning it. 

“I was worried Touya would say something and scare you off before tonight.” 

“Hey--” 

You laugh at that, she tilts her head observing you but not in a way that makes you feel suffocated, “You look like someone who wouldn’t leave that easily,” she added, ignoring him completely. 

You blinked. “...I hope that’s a good thing.” 

She nods fast, “It is.” 

You looked past her shoulder where a quieter presence lingered. Which is when you saw a kid with half white and half red hair, standing near the hallways. Posture straight but relaxed, watching attentively. You could tell he was trying to get a feel for you. 

“...Hi,” he finally said, his voice didn’t waiver, and you could tell he definitely wasn’t shy, just quiet. 

“Hi,” you said back offering a warm smile. 

Touya stepped up ruffling the kids hair, “Don’t mind Shoto, it takes a bit for him to get used to people, then he’ll yap your ear off,” 

He looked at Touya with an unreadable expression, “I just didn’t think she was real,” 

“Why the hell wouldn’t she be real?” 

“I didn’t think you could talk to girls--” Touya cut him off with a small slap to the back of his head. Not enough to hurt, but enough to shut him up. He let out a small “ow” in return. 

“Yeah that’s enough out of you,” he scoffed but before he could straighten up another voice cut in. 

“Wow” This one was more casual. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed looking you up and down. 

Natsuo. 

He tilted his head slightly, studying you with a mix of curiosity and disbelief, “You’re actually real,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting a bit. 

Touya groaned immediately. “Not you too,” 

“I didn’t say anything,” Natsuo laughed, pushing himself off the wall. He walked a little closer, not invading your space, but definitely looking at you. “I just didn’t think he’d actually bring someone home.” 

“That makes two of us,” you muttered without thinking. Your eyes widened slightly as the pause lingered. 

Then his mouth twitched and he let out a short laugh. 

“...Alright,” he said, still snickering despite Touya’s scowl towards him. “That was a good answer.” 

“Dinner’s ready.” 

You hadn’t even noticed her before. Seated at the table already, hands folded neatly, was a woman with soft grey eyes and a quiet presence that somehow filled the room more gently than anyone else. 

Rei. 

The food was already laid out, the house engulfed in the delicious smell. She looked up as you approached and she smiled. It wasn’t big and it wasn’t forced but the way her eyes softened when she saw you was a better reaction than anything else. 

She stood up and greeted you, “You must be Touya’s girlfriend,” she said gently. 

Your chest tightened a little at the tone alone. “Yes, ma’am--” 

“Rei is fine,” she said softly. 

“...Rei,” you corrected, a little shy now. “It’s really nice to meet you.” 

“I’m glad you came,” she said. 

And by how soft her tone was and the way her soft eyes were looking at you, you believed her completely. 

The table was set with careful precision. Plates aligned perfectly, chopsticks placed just right, the glasses catching the light. It felt less like a casual dinner and more like something that mattered.

Well to you this definitely did. 

Touya pulled your chair out and you paused looking at him. He avoided your eyes, “...Sit.” 

You smile a little as you take a seat, “You’re full of surprises tonight.” he pushed your chair while smiling a little. 

“Yeah well I don’t want my family to think I’m a complete dick to my girlfriend,” he teases, “Don’t get used to it,” 

Fuyumi took the seat beside Rei, immediately reaching to serve food. Natsuo dropped into his chair with a small sigh, stretching his arms before settling. Shoto sat across from you, posture straight, hands resting neatly. Enji sat at the head of the table, obviously. 

And Touya was sitting close enough that your shoulders brushed, which helped remind you that he was by your side no matter what. Whether things went south or not which he was anticipating in the back of his mind. 

For a moment, no one spoke, just the sound of the soft clink of dishes and the sound of people eating. 

“So,” Fuyumi started, as she settled in her seat, she looked at you with pure interest, “what do you like to do?” 

The question was simple but the way she asked it made it feel like she genuinely wanted to know. You answered, a little tentative at first, then more naturally as she listened, nodding along, asking follow-ups that made the conversation feel…normal. 

Rei joined in gently, asking quieter, more thoughtful ones. Shoto added small comments here and there which were precise but sincere, that made you smile. 

Natsuo leaned back, occasionally jumping in, “So you deal with him voluntarily?” he asked at one point, nodding toward Touya. 

Touya kicked his leg under the table which got him a glare from his father but Touya being Touya didn’t waiver, “Shut up,” 

You laughed softly. “It’s a challenge.” 

At some point during that moment, you realized Enji didn’t say anything which made you start to go into a mental spiral of whether your answers weren’t good enough. 

“You understand the attention this brings,” was the first thing he actually said that was directed to you. The air shifted immediately and you straightened up without thinking. 

His gaze was steady and heavy, “Touya’s speech was good for now but it won’t last long,” 

You felt Touya shift beside you moving closer. 

“The public scrutiny. The expectations. The consequences. Are you ready to deal with what comes with dating a pro hero,” 

You nod confident, “I am,” 

“Why?” 

The question was quick, Enji didn’t miss a beat especially when it came to his family. 

You hesitated for half a second and then reached under the table, your fingers brushing his. His pinky curled around yours, giving you a slight squeeze of reassurance. Even though the contact is small it gives you the same I love you, that’s all that matters.  “I’m not with the public, I’m with him. His opinion is all that matters to me,” your answer was short but it meant everything to Touya. 

For a moment, the room fell silent. Touya felt your pinky still hooked around his beneath the table, your hand warmer than before. His thumb brushed lightly against yours, the smallest gesture only you could feel. 

Enji studied you for several long seconds. 

“...I see.” 

His voice remained as unreadable as ever, but the intensity behind his gaze eased just enough. “You understand what you’re choosing,” he said. “That’s enough.” 

The knot that had been sitting in your chest since you walked through the front door loosened. Beside you, Touya let out a quiet breath through his nose. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it. 

Fuyumi clapped her hands together once, grinning. “Okay! That’s enough serious talk for one night.” She reached across the table toward the serving dishes. “Who wants dessert?” 

“Finally,” Natsuo sighed dramatically. “Dad was starting to sound like he was conducting a job interview.” 

“I was asking reasonable questions,” Enji replied through gritted teeth. 

“You were interrogating her.” 

“I was not.” 

“You absolutely were.” Touya snorted, lifting his glass to his lips. “She’s still here by the way,” You couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

Rei smiled softly as she stood, carrying a few empty plates toward the kitchen. 

“I made red velvet cake,” she said. “Touya used to steal pieces before dinner when he was little.” 

Touya nearly choked, “Mom.” 

Fuyumi gasped dramatically, whipping her head towards Touya, “I KNEW IT!” 

He shrugged meeting her glare, “I was hungry,” 

“You ate half the cake once!” Natsuo pointed accusingly. 

“It wasn’t half.” 

“It was definitely half.” 

“I was a growing kid.” 

“You were sixteen.” 

“I was still growing.” 

“...He still steals food.” Shoto quietly added. 

“I do not.” 

“You took one of my soba bowls the other day.” 

Touya waves his hand towards him, “I was taste-testing.”

“The entire bowl?” 

Touya rubbed a hand over his face leaning towards you, “Why’d I bring you here again?” 

That brought a laugh out of you--a real one. Because surprisingly, you found yourself comfortable here. The nervousness that had followed you all week slowly melted away, replaced by something warmer. 

You caught Rei watching everyone with the softest smile. When your eyes met, she smiled at you too. It felt…welcoming. 

Dinner lingered well past sunset. Conversations drifted from funny childhood stories to favorite foods, embarrassing memories and Fuyumi insisting on showing you every family photo album she could find (behind Touya’s back of course). 

By the time the dishes had been washed and the laughter finally settled, the house felt far less intimidating than it had only a few hours earlier. 

Deep into the evening, Touya steps outside onto his backyard, the grass had been recently mowed thankfully so the stems weren’t itching his ankles. The air was warm with a slight breeze to it as the night was approaching minute by minute. 

The evening's events replay in his head, he chuckles to himself thinking about how worried you were at first. Thinking his family wouldn’t like you or some nonsense like that, turns out you fit right in. 

He hears the back door open softly making him turn his head only to see you awkwardly lurking, he lets out a breathy laugh holding his hand out to you as a gesture for you to join him. “Hi baby, is it just you?” 

You nod, walking over and taking his hand letting him drag you closer to him. He settles you in front of him, your back against his chest. He wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder breathing in your scent. The warmth of his breath hits your neck making you feel tingly inside. 

He looks up at your relaxed expression, contrasting your tense one from earlier. He rubs your sides with his hands, “My family didn’t scare you off, did they?” 

You immediately shake your head, “No, no nothing like that,” you laugh, “They surprised me actually,” 

He snickers, “Yeah? How so?” 

“I didn’t expect them to be so…” you trail off looking for the right words. “So accepting I guess? I thought I’d have to pass some written test to be able to step into the house,” He laughs at the insanity of that, the sound against your ear makes you smile bigger. “I’m serious! Just the front of the house was insanely intimidating!”

He comes back down from his laughing, catching his breath “Should’ve trusted me when I told you there was nothing to worry about,” he presses a kiss to your cheek “And you did great by the way,” 

He means it with all his heart too, the feeling he felt when watching you interact with his family like how you did was something nothing and no one else could recreate it. He knew that you were the one for him, but in that moment it truly sank in that he wanted nothing more than to be by your side forever. 

“Did you used to come out here a lot?” You ask, curious about what his childhood was like. He never talks about it much, it consists mainly of training and a little bit of resentment. “It’s really pretty,” 

The question threw him off guard, he was too busy thinking about how perfect you are here in his old house being held in his arms. “Yeah, just to think or secretly smoke,” he mutters thinking about how despite his loudmouthed nature, he finds comfort in the quiet. It gives him a break from everything. 

You give a breathy laugh at that, imagining a rebellious teenage Touya absolutely done with everything taking a smoke break. “Yeah I can imagine that,” 

He scrunches his eyebrows, giving your waist a slight squeeze, "What's that supposed to mean?” He's not offended, just mildly confused which makes you giggle. 

“I can imagine you being all ‘cliche rebellious teenager’, yet I think it’s cute how you look at the sky in your free time,” 

He scoffs, the tips of his ears turning pink, “Yeah, yeah laugh it up. Don’t expect me to start spouting shit about stars or something,” he mutters against the side of your head making you laugh a little harder. 

“Speaking of childhood, your mom showed me the family album,” You bite your tongue holding back a laugh when you feel Touya tense up behind you. 

Baby photos. Oh hell no. 

“You were such a cute kid!” You squeal, gushing over all the baby photos you saw. When he was born, one of him was fed by his mom, another of him riding a bike, taking a bath, playing with his siblings but your favorite definitely had to be… 

“My favorite was the one of you eating soba,” you chuckled as you thought of the photo. Little baby Touya with soba shoved in his mouth, the sauce coating his cute chubby cheeks. “You really were a soba addict from day one huh?” 

“It’s undeniably the best,” he pressed his lips against your shoulder making his words muffled. He was half hiding himself out of embarrassment, which made you laugh some more. 

You take your pointer finger and gently boop his nose, “Aww poor you, don't be so embarrassed,” you continue teasing him, the blush spread down to his cheeks. This was one of the rare times when Touya was the one getting flustered and not you. 

He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, yeah keep laughing I dare you.” 

“I will.” 

“You’re awfully brave for someone standing in my arms.” 

“Oh yeah, what are you gonna do while we’re outside your parents place?”

He lets out a low chuckle, “Oh sweetheart, it’s cute that you think I care,” his mouth brushes your ear, “...you really wanna find out? I’d be more than happy to show you,” you can feel his sultry smile against your ear. 

You giggle, pink dusting your cheeks. “You looked adorable.” 

He rolls his eyes, “I looked ridiculous.” 

“You looked adorable!” 

“You still have those pictures memorized?” 

“Every single one.” A victorious smile takes over your face as he groans dramatically, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder. 

“Traitor.” 

“Your own mother showed me.” 

“She betrayed me.” 

“She loves you.” 

He clicked his tongue, “Don’t encourage her.”

“On the contrary, I might have her forward those photos to me,” You tease. 

His smirk turned wicked, voice deepened making you get this warm feeling in the bottom of your stomach “Oh yeah?” He starts to peck kisses to the side of your neck, whilst tickling your sides making your laugh boom across the air. 

“Wait! Mercy--mercy!” you breathe in between laughs as he continues to tickle you, he laughs at the sound of your joy. 

“Hell no, you started this!” 

From the inside, Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shoto have their faces pressed against the window watching the scene from inside the house. Endeavor and Rei cleaning up the kitchen, discussing with each other. 

“I’ve never seen this side of him,” Natsuo admires the way Touya cares for you, how he’s the one putting that huge smile on your face, how you’re bringing out a different side of him. “She really is different,” 

“I know!” Fuyumi squeals, her cheeks hurting from how big she’s smiling, “It’s like he’s a whole new person,” 

Shoto watches the scene, the corner of his lips turning up at his siblings' commentary and how playful Touya is being. He also knows that if Touya did catch them peeping, he’d beat all of their asses. 

“Do you think we should be stalking like this? It feels like intruding,” he quietly comments looking at his siblings. 

“Shhhh” Fuyumi and Natsuo simultaneously shut him up. 

Rei laughs at her children’s antics, Endeavor grunts in response. “She’s a sweet girl,” Rei states whilst washing the dishes, the soap suds clinging onto her hands. 

“Hmph, still can’t believe he hid it from us though,” Endeavor mumbles offendedly, he wants to be more involved in his son's life, “We had to find out through the damn media,” 

Rei sighs, she can’t but also feels a little disappointed by their son's secrecy. He’s the eldest, their firstborn. “He’s always been to himself, never truly let any of us in. But, with her he’s different. I can tell. He feels comfortable showing her all sides of him,” Rei smiles thinking about how protective he was over you earlier, how his eyes never left you making sure you were okay. 

Endeavor notices Rei’s soft expression, making him relax as well. “I see.” is all he says. He seems to also take a liking to your sweet, understanding nature. How you were able to cool Touya off with just a simple touch. He knows you’re exactly what his son needs. Someone understanding and kind. 

Touya had a rough childhood, and Endeavor definitely didn’t help with that. Touya inherited Endeavor’s stubbornness and would always push himself to be the best. He never let himself get too close to anyone, thinking that they would distract him from his long-term goal. The fact that you were able to push past his walls tells him there’s something about you that’s worth approving. 

“I hope they get married!” Fuyumi squeals from down the hall, it’s clear as day his siblings like you, especially Fuyumi. Natsuo lightly smacks the back of her head, “Hey!” 

“Cool it, it’ll happen when it happens,” But Natsuo can’t help but hope for the same thing. 

Oblivious to the commentary inside, you’re still laughing trying to escape Touya’s tickling frenzy. Touya holds you close, not letting you squirm. The night time air has gotten colder, but neither of you notice. Even if you did, Touya’s heat can keep the two of you warm.

“When we get home I have a surprise for you,” his lips were pressed to your ear, his tone dark and suggestive as if it’s a secret only between the two of you. 

Yeah, family dinner wasn’t too bad. 

taglist: @imjustawriter09 @catboygumi

a/n: i actually haven't written anything since may oh my gosh

sparkle and line dividers by @pixopix

bow divider by @cursed-carmine

This means that, for the sake of reaching his top form as fast as he can, he begrudgingly accepts your help— although, of course, not without a normal dose of complaining. After all, it wouldn't be Katsuki otherwise.

"It's been six hours, you should take your medicine again," you say quietly as you step into the dark bedroom. Katsuki has been cooped up in here since morning, claiming that lights and loud noises were making the pounding in his head worse and accentuated the nauseous sensation in the back of his throat.

"Don't tell me what to do," he grumbles from under the covers, only blonde spikes peeking out from the cocoon of blankets he's wrapped in. You snort and shake your head, making your way towards him. The mattress dip under your weight and Katsuki pulls his head out to look at you— and it really is a sight to behold.

His cheeks are flushed, a pretty pink adorning his pale skin. His usually vibrant eyes look hazy, gaze unfocused as he blinks blearily at you, as if trying to focus his sight. His eyebrows are furrowed, lips tugged into a frown and face settled into a scowl that doesn't look nearly as intimidating as he probably wishes.

You have to admit, he actually looks kind of cute— but, for obvious reasons, you’ll keep the thought to yourself for now.

"How are you feeling?" you ask, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead to check his temperature. Katsuki grunts softly, but you catch the way he subtly leans into your touch, seeking the coolness it provides.

"Like shit," he responds gruffly, his voice low and husky.

You hum in understanding and cast him a sympathetic look, moving your hand to cup his face and stroke his cheek with your thumb. A soft exhale slips past his lips and his eyes fall closed as he tilts his face to the side, pressing more firmly against your palm.

"Stop looking at me like that," he murmurs.

"Like what?" you ask, confused. "You can't even see me."

"I don't have to, I know you," Katsuki responds promptly, not bothering to open his eyes yet. "You're probably looking all worried and shit, I can tell. Don't you dare start patronising me now."

You roll your eyes and shake your head. "I'm not patronising you, I'm just taking care of you," you correct him. "And on that note, you should really take your medicine again."

"I'll take it later," he replies, dismissively waving his hand around.

Before you can protest, he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you to lie down beside him. His body is hot against your side, legs immediately tangling loosely together underneath the sheets. His hand curls around the dip of your waist, keeping you close as he rests his head on your shoulder.

"Katsuki?"

"Mh," he hums softly, nuzzling into your collarbone. His hand slips underneath your shirt, making contact with the bare skin of your stomach. "Shut up or you'll make my headache worse."

"You know, there's an easier way to stop your headache," you remind him sarcastically— tho you don't try to push him off you. You shift underneath him to make yourself more comfortable and raise your hand to the back of his head, gently carding your fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, yeah. I hear ya," he sighs, moving until he’s almost completely draped over you, with his head pillowed on your chest. A pleased sound rumbles in his throat as your nails sweetly scratch his scalp, making him melt into you.

“Just… give me a few minutes here, then I'll take that damn pill."

𝜗ৎ MIDORIYA IZUKU

When it comes to Izuku, the hard part isn't taking care of him—it's getting him to admit he's sick in the first place. His self sacrificing and people pleasing tendencies have been a part of him since he was a kid, so it's no surprise that his own health comes last in his list of priorities, far behind teaching, hero work and, obviously, you.

The main reason why he won't admit he's under the weather is because he feels like he can't take a step back without disappointing someone. If he's sick, he's forcing you to take care of the house— and him— all by yourself, he's leaving his students unattended and he's not out there to help out if something happens. He'd gladly kneel over before letting any of those things happen.

"Sweetheart, I already told you I'm fine," Izuku sighs, repeating himself for the umpteenth time— although, it's still not enough for you to believe him. After years of dating, you pride yourself in knowing how your boyfriend's feeling with just a look and what you're seeing clearly doesn't scream "fine". He's been sitting at the kitchen table for about half an hour, eyes fixed on the report on his computer. Every now and then, you catch him grimacing and rubbing his temples or his forehead, which lets you know that the "little headache" he insist he has is probably not as insignificant as he made it sound.

"You don't look fine to me, baby," you respond, eyeing him from the seat across from him. Despite never straying away from the screen, his eyes look unfocused and glassy, with that typical shine of illness in them. You get up to check on him, but as you do, your chair scrapes across the floor and you see Izuku wincing and holding the side of his head, then quickly scrambling to act like nothing happened.

"I promise I'm fine, I'm just tired."

Again, you don't buy it for a second. You ignore his excuse and reach for the thermometer to check his temperature. As he clocks what you're about to do, Izuku visibly grows more agitated.

"Ah, baby, there's no need for that," Izuku laughs nervously, plastering a smile on his face— tho it looks far too tight for it to seem genuine. "I'm-"

"Fine, yes. So you've told me," you interrupt him, cocking your head to the side. "Which means you have nothing to worry about. I'm sure your temperature will be fine, but better safe than sorry, right?"

You grin in satisfaction as you see him worrying his lower lip, clearly looking for an excuse not to let you take his temperature but coming up short. He battles with himself for a few moments, before his shoulders deflate and he sighs in defeat. He leans back in his chair and parts his lips, just enough for you to slide the thermometer under his tongue.

You wait for a few seconds before pulling it out and reading the result. "Alright, you definitely have a fever," you comment, shaking your head. Of course you knew he had a fever, you're just shocked he was willing to suffer from it rather than just admitting it.

You glare at him and Izuku has at least the decency to look sheepish. "I swear it isn't that bad..." You raise an eyebrow at him and he sighs. "Okay, fine. It is bad, my head is pounding, but I wanted to finish this report. And I'm almost done, I only need-"

"What you need is medicine and some sleep," you interject firmly, but with a touch of gentleness in your tone. You reach over to close the report page on his computer, earning an halfhearted whine of protest from Izuku— tho he doesn't try to stop you. He doesn't fight you when you brush his curl away from his forehead— he lets out a sigh of relief that you assume is from the contrast between your cold fingers and his scorching hot skin and melts into you, until his face is buried into your stomach.

“Fine, fine," he relents, voice weak. His arms come to wrap around the top of your thighs in a loose embrace— probably because he doesn't have enough strength for a tighter one. "You coming with me?”

“If you want me to," you murmur, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Of course I do. I can't sleep without my favourite pillow," he says softly, nuzzling into your stomach like a cat.

“Very romantic," you reply sarcastically, earning a chuckle and a light squeeze from your boyfriend. “Come on, let’s get you rested up.”

𝜗ৎ TODOROKI SHOTO

Everyone in your inner circle knows that Shoto is touch starved. His clinginess towards you has always been the object of undeterred teasing whenever the two of you went out— his attention never wanders far from you for too long and there's always a point of touch between you, let it be a hand on your thigh underneath the table or his arm resting on the back of your chair.

What most people don't know, however, is that his clinginess gets ten times worse when he's sick— maybe even more. All of a sudden, you can’t move to another room without hearing a pair of extra steps immediately trailing after you.

“Sho, baby, I told you to stay in bed,” you sigh softly, feeling a familiar weight draped over your back. Shoto’s arms wrap around your waist from behind like vines, holding you close to his chest as if to merge your bodies together.

He whines softly against your neck, aggressively nuzzling his face into your shoulder. “You abandoned me,” he murmurs, and you can clearly hear the pout in his voice.

You chuckle softly and shake your head at the accusations. “I didn’t abandon you. I told you to wait for me while I made you some soup,” you reply, nodding at the simmering pot on the stove— the one that’s been heating up for barely five minutes before Shoto came looking for you.

Shoto spares it nothing but a fleeting glance before burying his face back in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. “Still left me alone,” he protests. “I don’t need soup, I only need you.”

You’re thankful he can’t see the blush adorning your cheeks or the way your lips curl into a little grin at his words. Despite the years spent together, Shoto’s bluntness still catches you off guard at times— in the best way possible, of course.

“As sweet as that is, you need to get some food in your stomach,” you remind him softly, raising your hand to lightly caress his knuckles. Shoto lets you at first, then flexes his fingers to intertwine them through yours, holding your hand over your stomach.

“Okay,” he says softly, his voice raspy as a result of the cold he’s still suffering from. “But can we go back to bed later? I felt better when we were cuddling.”

“Sure we can,” you reassure him. “I just need to quickly swing by the pharmacy-“

“No.”

You knew this was going to happen. You sigh and shake your head. “Shoto, we’re out of cough syrup and medicine for your cold. I need to go buy some.”

“Why are you so eager to leave me?” Shoto whines softly, letting you know he’s beginning to sulk again— if he ever stopped in the first place, that is. “Just get it delivered or call someone to bring it here.”

“Shoto-“

“I’m sick,” he interrupts you. “You shouldn’t leave a sick person alone. What if something happens?”

“Baby, you have a cold. You’re not dying.” As you speak, Shoto raises his head from your shoulder to give you a look— and it’d be a lie to say your heart doesn’t skips a beat at the cute sight he makes. The tip of his nose is red and his cheeks are flushed, while his eyes are wide and pleading as he looks up at you.

"Please?" he whispers, in a voice so soft it tugs at your heartstrings— you know he's doing it on purpose, the damn manipulator. "Stay with me..."

Your resolve crumbles and you can only exhale and nod your head. Pleased with your acceptance, Shoto buries his head back in your neck and you feel a smile pressed against your skin. "Thank you. You're the best."