—MHA men reactions to you getting jealous over a fan flirting with them!

｡.｡:∞Summary: The Pro-heroes are at a fan event and you get jealous because a fan likes them a bit too much!

ˏˋ°•*⁀Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader ; Kirishima Eijiro x f!reader ; Denki Kaminari x f!reader ; Sero Hanta x f!reader

∾･⁙Tags: Cute ; Jealousy ; Aged!up ; Dating ; Loving ; funny ; Love

*✧･ﾟ:Wordcount: About 8-9k?

⑅୨୧⑅*A/N: Okay guys soon there will be a Christmas post and a new years post! Ne patient and enjoy this one! Maybe I’ll even make a part two of this with some other characters!

Bakugou Katsuki — “I’m Not Letting Anyone Take Me From My Girl."

You weren’t supposed to feel like this.

Not today, not during something as normal as accompanying your boyfriend to a simple hero signing event — something he did a dozen times a year.

But there it was.

A burning twist in your stomach.

All because of her.

The fan leaning way too close across the signing table.

The fan giggling at every single thing Bakugou said, even though he hadn’t actually said anything funny.

The fan twirling her hair while pushing her chest up against the table like she was auditioning for a villain role.

And Bakugou — your Katsuki — was reacting exactly the way you feared he would:

He was being professional.

Which, annoyingly, made him look even hotter and made her try even harder.

You stood near the corner of his booth, tucked behind a cardboard cutout of his hero merch. You told yourself you were here to “get a better angle,” but that was a lie.

You were hiding.

Because your jealousy was showing on your face like a bright neon sign, and you didn’t trust yourself not to rip her autograph book in half.

Katsuki took the fan’s poster, signed it quickly, and handed it back with his usual sharp nod.

“Next.”

But she didn’t move.

She stayed leaning forward.

Her smile dripped sweetness like artificial sugar.

“So… Katsuki…” she purred, completely ignoring the pro-hero handler waving at her to move along, “do you have a girlfriend?”

Your lungs froze.

Katsuki didn’t look fazed. Not even a twitch.

He was used to that question.

He answered it the same way every time — blunt and boring:

“That’s none of your damn business.”

Except this time, he lifted his eyes.

And he didn’t look at her.

He looked at you.

Just one second. One glance.

But your heart felt it.

The fan giggled again, undeterred.

“Well… if you ever become single, call m—”

“Heard ya,” Katsuki interrupted sharply, waving her away as he turned to the next person. “Move it.”

His voice was clipped, annoyed — more annoyed than he usually got at events.

You exhaled slowly.

Okay. Maybe you were overreacting.

The line moved. The moment was over.

And you tried — really tried — to let it go.

But the bitter little flame inside your stomach didn’t go out.

It stayed there.

Burning.

_________________________________

An Hour Later

Katsuki finally stepped away from the booth, stretching his shoulders with a groan.

“Fucking hate sittin’ that long.”

You smiled softly, lifting a water bottle to him.

“You did great, Katsuki.”

“Tch. ‘Course I did.”

He drank.

But as he lowered the bottle, he frowned.

“You okay? You look like you’re thinking too damn hard.”

You swallowed.

Here it was. The perfect opportunity to say something.

But suddenly you couldn’t.

Because it sounded stupid in your head.

“Oh yeah, I’m just… tired.”

His eyes narrowed immediately.

Katsuki Bakugou didn’t tolerate lies.

And he especially didn’t tolerate your lies.

“Cut the shit,” he said lowly. “What’s actually goin’ on?”

You opened your mouth — but movement down the hall caught your eye.

That fan again.

Walking away with her poster clutched in her hand, smiling like she’d just won the lottery.

Your jaw tightened.

Katsuki followed your gaze.

And when he saw where you were looking, something inside him clicked.

A low, dangerous sound rumbled in his chest.

“…Oh.”

He stepped closer — so close you could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“You jealous?”

You froze.

“I—I’m not—”

“You are.”

His voice dropped, rough and low. “You’ve been off since she walked up to the booth.”

You turned your eyes away, cheeks burning.

“She was annoying, that’s all.”

“The fuck she was,” Katsuki muttered. “She was flirtin’.”

You stiffened.

He said it so bluntly.

“You noticed?”

“Everyone noticed.”

He stepped in front of you completely, blocking your view of the hallway — like he didn’t want you looking at her again.

“You didn’t like it.”

It wasn’t a question.

You let out a tiny breath.

“No,” you whispered. “I didn’t.”

Katsuki’s eyes softened in a way he’d never admit.

“Come here.”

He pulled you toward the nearest empty hallway, away from the noise and crowds. His hand stayed firm around yours — protective, grounding, very him.

Once alone, he turned to you.

“Y/N.”

Your heart jumped at his tone.

“I don’t give a shit about fans like that. They’re just people I sign crap for. That’s all.”

“I know, but—”

“No.” His hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up so he could look you dead in the eyes.

“I don’t want them. I want you.”

Your breath caught.

His thumb brushed your cheekbone.

“You think I didn’t feel you starin’ daggers into my back?”

You flushed.

“I wasn’t—”

He smirked.

“You fuckin’ were.”

He stepped closer.

“And you know what?” His voice dropped. “I liked it.”

You blinked.

“…What?”

His smirk deepened.

“Means you care. Means I matter to you. Means you want me.”

His forehead met yours, breath warm against your lips.

“I like when you get a little possessive.”

Your knees nearly gave out.

“Katsuki…”

He slid his hands to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“But listen close,” he murmured, “’cause I’m only sayin’ this once.”

You swallowed hard, waiting.

“No one — no fan, no extra, no one — gets me the way you do. No one touches me the way you do. No one gets this version of me except you.”

Your chest squeezed tight.

“And if anyone thinks they’re gonna steal me away?”

He leaned closer, lips brushing your ear.

“I’ll laugh in their damn face.”

Your jealousy melted instantly like sugar in hot caramel.

Katsuki pulled back just enough to look at you, gauging your expression.

“You good now?”

You nodded — but your eyes were shiny.

“Katsuki… I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be the jealous girlfriend.”

“Why not? You’re mine.”

Your heart stopped.

He said it so casually.

So possessively.

So Bakugou.

“And I’m yours,” he added quietly. “If the roles were reversed, I’d’ve blown a fuse the second someone looked at you wrong.”

You laughed — watery and warm.

“That sounds about right.”

“Damn right it does.”

He cupped your face with both hands now, rough palms gentle against your skin.

“Don’t hide shit from me, okay?”

You nodded.

“Promise.”

“Good.”

He kissed your forehead — slow and steady — before pulling you into his chest.

You melted instantly, arms around him, face pressed against the familiar scent of smoke and caramel.

“Feeling better?” he murmured.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Thanks for… not making fun of me.”

“Tch. I’d never make fun of you for wantin’ me.”

You elbowed him lightly, and he huffed a small laugh — the kind he only let you hear.

Then he tilted your chin up again.

“Kiss me.”

You didn’t hesitate.

Your lips met his, soft at first — but then he deepened it, hand on the back of your neck, kissing you like he was erasing every doubt you’d ever had.

When you finally pulled away, dizzy and warm, Katsuki’s smirk had softened.

“Next time some fan tries shit like that,” he said, brushing a thumb across your lips, “just remember this.”

“Remember what?”

“That I picked you, idiot.”

Your heart swelled so hard it hurt.

He intertwined his fingers with yours and tugged you back toward the exit.

“Now let’s get food. I’m starving.”

You laughed — the jealousy completely gone.

And as you walked side-by-side, his fingers squeezing yours every so often just to remind you he was there, you knew one thing for certain:

No fan in the world could ever compare.

Not when Bakugou Katsuki looked at you like that.

Kirishima Eijirou — "You Don't Have to Be Strong About This, Babe."

You’d always known Kirishima was loved by fans.

You weren’t naïve — he was charming, kind, handsome, approachable. He treated everyone with warmth that never felt fake, never forced. It’s one of the reasons you fell for him.

But knowing it and seeing it were two very different things.

Especially today.

His hero meet-and-greet was packed — crowded, loud, full of screaming fans waving posters and homemade bracelets. Kirishima sat behind a long booth covered in red and black merch, smiling with that infectious warmth like he was greeting old friends rather than strangers.

You always admired it.

Until you didn’t.

Until she showed up.

A girl — maybe in her twenties — leaned over Kirishima’s booth, so close it made your stomach tighten. She twirled her hair, cheeks flushed, voice pitchy with forced sweetness.

“Oh my god, Red Riot, I’ve been waiting hours just to see you!”

“Thanks for comin’!” Kirishima said with that big genuine grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “I appreciate you waiting so long.”

“And I brought you something,” she cooed.

Your eyebrows shot up as she pulled a small red gift bag from behind her back.

Kirishima blinked, surprised.

“A gift? For me?”

“It’s… um… handmade.”

She pushed it toward him with shy, flirty eyes.

“And I really hope you like it.”

Kirish opened the bag — pulling out a knitted, scarlet scarf.

You swallowed.

It was nice.

Really nice.

And she wasn’t done.

“If you ever get cold… you can think of me when you wear it,” she said, biting her lip.

You felt your chest tighten.

A hot, lightheaded feeling prickled behind your eyes.

Kirishima set the scarf down gently.

“Thank you,” he said, still polite. “That’s really thoughtful.”

But she didn’t move.

She leaned even closer, hands on the table.

“So… are you single? I mean, someone as amazing as you must have a girlfriend, but… I still wanted to ask…”

And that was when Kirishima glanced up — quick, instinctive — and his crimson eyes found yours across the room.

Just that one look.

Enough to make your breath hitch.

He straightened a little, his smile changing — softening, turning warmer, deeper, more real — the kind he only used with you.

“Oh,” he said firmly, “I’m taken.”

The girl’s smile cracked.

“Oh… o-oh,” she stammered. “By who?”

Again, Kirishima’s eyes slid to you.

“Someone really special,” he answered, tone final. “Someone I love a lot.”

Your heart jumped painfully in your chest.

He said it so easily.

The fan looked like she’d been punched.

She forced a small smile, grabbed her poster, and shuffled away.

Kirishima continued signing like nothing had happened.

But you didn’t feel better.

Not yet.

The jealousy sat thick inside you — heavy, ugly, confusing.

You’d never felt jealous with him before.

Never had to.

So why now?

You slipped away to the back hallway, leaning against the wall, trying to regulate your breathing.

You hated this feeling.

It wasn’t you.

And it wasn’t fair to him.

But damn… seeing someone offer him a handmade gift, flirting like she had a chance, asking if he was single — it hit you somewhere you didn’t expect.

You didn’t realize you were spacing out until a warm hand touched your back.

“Babe?”

You looked up sharply.

Kirishima stood there, concern written all over his face. His red hair was a little messy from fans hugging him, and he’d removed his hero gauntlets, making him look softer, more human.

He stepped closer.

“You okay?” he asked quietly. “You disappeared.”

You nodded too fast.

“I just needed some air.”

He frowned — soft but deeply worried.

“Y/N,” he murmured, “that’s not the whole truth.”

You bit your lip.

He reached out slowly — giving you time to pull away if you wanted — and placed his hands on your upper arms.

“You know you never have to pretend with me, right?”

Your chest tightened painfully.

“Kiri, it’s stupid,” you whispered. “I shouldn’t feel this way. I don’t want to be the jealous girlfriend.”

Kirishima’s brows lifted slightly.

There it was. The missing piece.

“…You were jealous?”

Heat exploded in your face.

“I mean… just a little,” you mumbled. “She gave you a hand-knitted scarf! And she was basically leaning into your lap. And—”

“Hey, hey,” he cut in gently, “look at me.”

You did.

His eyes softened instantly.

“Oh babe,” he exhaled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “you don’t ever have to be embarrassed about feeling that way.”

You tried to look away, but he tipped your chin up with two fingers — so soft, so careful.

“I get it,” he said. “If I saw someone flirting with you like that, I’d… well…”

He chuckled sheepishly.

“…I wouldn’t handle it nearly as calmly as you did.”

“You’d probably break a wall,” you muttered.

“Probably,” he admitted.

The small laugh between you loosened your chest, but the ache didn’t vanish.

He noticed.

“Y/N,” he said gently, “did it… hurt?”

That was all it took.

Your eyes burned instantly.

“I know it’s dumb,” you whispered. “I know you love me. I trust you completely. I just—seeing her give you something she made, and hearing her ask if you were single—”

Your voice broke.

Kirishima wrapped you in his arms instantly — pulling you tight against his chest like he could shield you from the feeling itself.

“It’s not dumb,” he murmured into your hair. “Not even close.”

His hand rubbed slow circles on your back.

“You love me,” he whispered. “And that means you feel things deeply. That’s one of the things I adore about you.”

You shook your head.

“But I don’t want to feel insecure.”

He pulled back just enough to cup your cheeks.

“Then let me help,” he said softly. “Let me take some of that weight off you.”

Your breath trembled.

“Kiri…”

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours — warm, grounding, tender.

“You’re my person, Y/N.”

Your chest tightened.

“You’re the one I wake up thinking about. You’re the one I want to grow old with. You’re the one I picture when I imagine my future. No fan, no gift, no flirty stranger is ever gonna change that.”

Your eyes filled.

“And you know that scarf she made?”

He smiled sheepishly.

“I’m giving it to charity. I’m not wearing something from someone who looks at me like that.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Kiri—”

“I only wear stuff from you.”

Your heart broke in the best way possible.

He slid his hands down to hold your waist.

“You being jealous doesn’t scare me. It doesn’t push me away. It doesn’t annoy me.”

He leaned closer.

“It makes me want to hold you tighter.”

A small, helpless sound escaped your throat.

“And it reminds me,” he whispered, “how lucky I am that someone as amazing as you wants me enough to be scared of losing me.”

Your tears finally overflowed.

Kirishima caught them with his thumbs, kissing your forehead as you trembled in his hands.

“Come here,” he murmured, pulling you to his chest again.

You melted into him, breathing in his scent — warm, familiar, safe.

After a long moment, he spoke again.

“You know what I was thinking the whole time she was talking?”

“What?” you whispered.

“That I hoped you’d come over so I could hold your hand under the table.”

You laughed wetly, shoulders shaking.

“And when she asked if I was single?”

He kissed your temple.

“I wished I could say your name out loud.”

Warmth bloomed painfully in your chest.

He leaned back just enough to look at you properly.

“Y/N… you’re the only woman I see.”

You wiped your face.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed.

“Don’t be,” he said immediately. “Jealousy means you care. And I care too.”

He took your hand.

“Come on. Let me take you home.”

“Don’t you still have a line?”

He smiled.

“I told my handler I needed a break. And honestly?”

He brushed his thumb across your knuckles.

“You’re more important.”

Your heart flipped.

He tugged you gently down the hallway, his fingers intertwined with yours, thumb stroking the back of your hand in small soothing circle.

As you walked, he spoke softly beside you.

“Next time someone flirts with me…”

He glanced at you with a warm, boyish smile.

“Just come stand next to me.

Your brows raised.

“Why?”

“Because I want them to see who I belong to.”

Your breath caught.

“And if you’re still jealous,” he added with a playful grin, “I’ll just kiss you in front of everyone.”

“Kiri—!”

He laughed, that deep, warm sound that melted you every time.

Then he lifted your hand and kissed your knuckles softly.

“You’re my favorite girl,” he whispered. “Always.”

And with those words, the last bits of jealousy dissolved completely — replaced with something stronger, deeper, and infinitely more beautiful.

Love.

Denki Kaminari — "I'm Not Shock-Proof When It Comes to You."

You always knew dating Denki Kaminari meant dating someone loved.

Not just admired — loved.

Adored. Worshipped. The “everybody’s crush but he only wants you” type of loved.

He was charming, funny, sweet, attractive, and — annoyingly — completely unaware of how flirty he sometimes came across without trying.

But today… today tested your patience in ways you weren’t prepared for.

His agency held a public hero showcase in the city plaza, where he did a short demonstration and then signed autographs. You attended most of his events, but this one was huge — music, lights, cameras, fans everywhere.

You stood backstage, sipping a water bottle, watching him hype up the crowd with his signature grin.

“Alright, alright! Who’s ready to see some lightning?!”

The cheers were deafening.

You smiled despite yourself.

He really was magnetic.

Then she appeared.

A fan decked out in yellow from head to toe, glitter lightning bolts painted on her cheeks. Pretty. Energetic. Way too bold.

The moment Denki stepped down from the stage for meet-and-greets, she nearly body-slammed her way to the front of the line.

“DENKI!!!” she squealed, bouncing on her toes. “NOTICE MEEE!”

You watched with raised brows as she shoved a signed poster practically into his chest.

Denki blinked.

“Oh—hey there! Uh—woah, cool face paint!”

“You like it?” she giggled. “I did it just for you!”

You felt something spark low in your stomach, but you stayed where you were. It was fine. Fans loved him. He loved fans.

But then she leaned forward.

Like… leaned.

“Can I take a selfie up close?” she purred.

“Sure thing!” Denki said brightly, grabbing her phone.

She scooted beside him, pressing herself against his arm — very intentionally — and lifted her phone.

“Wait,” she giggled, “I want to be closer…”

Then she looped her arm fully around his waist.

Your breath caught.

Denki stiffened slightly — just a fraction — but he didn’t pull away immediately because he was trying to be professional.

Then she whispered something in his ear you couldn’t hear.

But whatever it was made your stomach twist.

Your chest felt tight, hot, uncomfortable.

You weren’t angry at him.

But the sight burned all the same.

And you didn’t miss how her eyes flicked toward you backstage, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

Denki finally stepped back, gently removing her arm.

“Haha—okay! Thanks for the pic,” he said lightly. “Who’s next?”

But she didn’t budge.

“Wait… Denki? Can I ask you something?”

He smiled politely. “Shoot.”

She sucked in a breath dramatically.

“A-are you… single? Because if you’re not… I still think I could change your mind.

Your jaw slackened.

Denki’s eyes widened too — shocked, embarrassed, panicked in the cute Denki way.

“Oh! Uh—um—I’m—no, no, I’m not single!” he sputtered. “Definitely taken! Super taken!”

The girl blinked. “By who?”

Denki’s eyes shot straight to you.

In an instant, his whole expression changed — softened, brightened, warmed.

“My girlfriend,” he said proudly. “She’s right over there.”

Every head in the line turned.

Heat washed over you.

You lifted a tiny awkward wave.

She huffed — actually huffed — and stalked off.

Denki exhaled so hard his shoulders dropped.

But you didn’t feel better.

Not yet.

The ache lingered — like something raw and vulnerable had been poked too hard.

You slipped backstage and sat on an equipment crate, hands clasped, willing the weird heat in your chest to dissolve.

It didn’t.

A few minutes later, footsteps approached — fast, familiar.

“Baaaaaabe?”

Denki slid beside you, dropping onto the crate with dramatic flair.

He bumped your shoulder with his.

“You disappeared,” he said softly. “Thought you might’ve ditched me for a cooler hero.”

You sighed.

“I just needed a second.”

Denki paused.

His expression shifted immediately — serious, cautious, concerned.

“…Y/N?”

His voice softened.

“What’s going on? Talk to me.”

You opened your mouth — nothing came out.

You could lie. Play it off. Pretend it didn’t bother you.

But Denki knew you too well.

“That girl,” you whispered finally. “She was really… into you.”

Denki blinked. “Uh… yeah. She was.”

You stared at your hands.

“I didn’t like it.”

He tilted his head.

“Wait—” he gasped playfully, eyes widening. “Hold up. Are you saying—could it be— is my girlfriend… jealous?”

You glared.

He immediately shut up.

The grin dropped, replaced by soft sincerity.

“…Hey,” he murmured, sliding his hand over yours. “Hey. Y/N. Look at me?”

You hesitated but lifted your eyes.

Denki’s expression completely melted.

“Oh babe…” he breathed, cupping your cheek. “You’re not seriously upset, are you?”

“I know it’s stupid,” you muttered. “She was just a fan. You were just being nice. I trust you, I just—”

“Whoa, whoa, stop,” he said gently. “Don’t beat yourself up.”

You tried to pull your hand away, but Denki held it tighter.

“Jealousy isn’t stupid,” he said softly. “It means you care.”

You swallowed.

“It feels gross.”

“It feels human,” he corrected. “And honestly? I… kinda—”

He blushed slightly.

“…I think it’s cute.”

Your mouth dropped open.

He scrambled.

“NOT like—haha—the toxic kind! But like… the adorable ‘I love my boyfriend and don’t want random sparkly lightning cosplay girls squeezing him like a plushie’ kind.”

Despite everything, a laugh escaped you.

Denki smiled gently.

“You didn’t look mad,” he added softly. “You looked… hurt.”

Your breath hitched.

He always noticed too much.

He rested his forehead against yours.

“I don’t ever want you to feel that way,” he whispered. “Not because of me.”

You sighed shakily.

“She touched you a lot. And she whispered something in your ear. And—and she asked if you were single—”

At that, Denki groaned dramatically and threw his head back.

“Oh my god, babe, she asked me that and I wanted to literally power down and play dead.”

You snorted.

“I’m serious!” he whined. “I was like—ERROR. SYSTEM FAILURE. GIRLFRIEND LOCATED. ABORT MISSION.”

You laughed despite yourself, shoulders shaking.

He leaned closer.

“And the whisper?” he added with a grimace. “Babe… she asked me what type of girls I like.”

Your heart twinged again.

Denki clasped your cheeks gently between his hands, squishing them.

“And I said,” he continued proudly, “I like girls who are named Y/N and who steal my hoodies and who think I’m funny even when I’m actually not.”

Your eyes widened.

“You said that?”

“Word for word,” he said. “I nearly added your shoe size to be extra clear.”

Your heart squeezed painfully.

“Denki…”

His thumb brushed your cheek.

“You’re the one I look for in every room,” he whispered. “You’re the one I brag about. You’re the one I want to go home with.”

Warmth spread through you, melting the jealousy at its core.

“And babe,” he added, lips tugging into a boyish smile, “you know how many fans flirt with me?”

You groaned. “Denki—”

“All of them,” he said brightly. “All. Of. Them.”

You punched his shoulder lightly.

“Not helping!”

He grinned.

“But do you know how many I flirt back with?”

You sighed. “Zero?”

“ZERO,” he emphasized loudly. “A big round heroic zero. My heart does this lil’—” he flopped in his seat dramatically— “bzzt-bzzt thing only for you.”

You burst out laughing.

And then he took your hands, suddenly gentle.

“If it ever bothers you again,” he said softly, “just come stand next to me.”

You blinked. “Why?”

“So people know you’re with me,” he said simply. “So people see how proud I am to be yours. So I don’t have to fight the urge to yell ‘HEY SHE’S MINE’ in front of a hundred cameras.”

Your mouth fell open.

“Denki—”

He leaned forward and kissed your forehead — slow, sweet, lingering.

“I love you,” he murmured. “And I don’t say that lightly. I love you more than the crowd, more than hero work, more than any stupid flashy attention I get.”

You melted instantly.

“And if someone flirts with me again?” he added.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ll power down and play dead?”

He snapped his fingers. “Exactly.”

You laughed so hard you nearly fell off the crate.

Denki caught you around the waist, pulling you into his chest.

“You’re my girl, Y/N,” he whispered against your hair. “My only girl.”

Your jealousy dissolved completely.

He kissed your temple, then your cheek, then just under your jaw, trailing warmth everywhere.

Then he pulled back with a bright grin.

“…So, uh, wanna go home?”

He wiggled his brows.

“I promise I won’t let any sparkly lightning girls near me.”

You rolled your eyes — smiling.

“Yeah. Let’s go home, idiot.”

He beamed.

“Best decision you’ve made all day.”

And with your hand tightly intertwined in his, he led you out of the noisy plaza — away from the crowds, away from the flashing cameras — straight home, where he belonged.

With you.

Sero Hanta — "You Think l'd Look at Anyone But You?

You always thought dating Hanta Sero would be easy.

And most of the time, it was.

He was gentle, patient, funny, a little mischievous, and somehow always the most stable emotional presence in any room. A grown-up, confident version of the boy he used to be — still goofy, but more refined and dangerously handsome.

What you didn’t expect was how much the public adored him.

He wasn’t flashy like Bakugou.

Wasn’t glamorous like Hawks.

Wasn’t icy hot like Shoto.

He was approachable.

And that made him… weirdly irresistible.

Today was another hero meet-and-greet at his agency. You tagged along like you always did, happy just watching him in his element. Sero was signing autographs, taking pictures, chatting with fans, laughing in that warm, casual way that made people feel like friends, not strangers.

You loved that about him.

Normally.

But then she stepped up.

A fan with perfect hair, perfect face-card, and an outfit so perfectly curated you knew she’d dressed specifically for this.

“Hi, Pro Hero Cellophane!” she giggled, voice too sweet to be natural.

Sero flashed his charming smile. “Hey! Thanks for coming out today.”

“You’re even hotter in person,” she said, biting her lip.

Your eyebrow twitched.

Sero blinked, polite but confused.

“Uh—thanks, I guess?”

She leaned forward on the table, giving him an unnecessary view.

“I mean it,” she purred. “You look so good today. Really… good.”

Your stomach tightened.

He laughed awkwardly. “Haha—uh—thanks. Glad you think so.”

Then she slid a little closer. “Can I take a personal picture with you?”

“Oh—yeah, sure! Selfies are fine.”

“Not a selfie,” she corrected.

“A real picture. Like… with your arm around me.”

Before Sero could respond, she stepped right next to him, pressing up against his side and lifting her phone.

Sero’s smile faltered for a second.

You noticed.

She didn’t.

While her phone clicked, she leaned into his ear — too close — and whispered,

“I could totally be your sidepiece, you know.”

Your jaw dropped.

Sero’s entire body froze.

He pulled back immediately.

“Whoa, whoa—that’s… no,” he said quickly. “I’m taken.”

Her face fell into a pout. “Seriously? By who?”

Sero didn’t hesitate.

He looked straight across the room — straight at you.

“My girlfriend,” he said proudly. “She’s right there.”

Your stomach fluttered.

Hers didn’t.

She looked you up and down, unimpressed.

“Oh.”

Sero’s eyes narrowed — barely, but enough.

He did not like that.

But she still didn’t move.

“Are you sure?” she asked, stepping close again. “I mean, guys like you usually keep their options open…”

Sero’s polite smile disappeared completely.

“I don’t keep options open,” he said flatly. “I’m loyal.”

Then he waved her aside.

“Next, please.”

She walked away, annoyed and dramatic, tossing her hair.

You swallowed the heat rising in your cheeks — jealousy, embarrassment, insecurity all tangled together.

But you forced yourself to stay still.

He was busy.

You could talk later.

Except Sero wasn’t having that.

The moment his line ended, he excused himself, cutting his break short. Long strides carried him straight to you.

“Mi amor?” he murmured gently, touching your arm. “You okay?”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“…What?”

“You look like you’re thinking really loud,” he said softly. “And not in a good way.”

You tried to smile. “I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re lying.”

You glared. “I’m not.”

One corner of his mouth lifted.

“You are. I know your ‘I’m fine’ voice. It’s your ‘I’m two seconds away from crying, punching something, or making a bad decision’ voice.”

Despite yourself, a tiny laugh escaped.

But your chest still felt tight.

Sero noticed. Of course he did.

“Walk with me?” he asked quietly.

You nodded.

He guided you into a quiet hallway behind the event booths, away from fans, lights, and cameras. Just the two of you.

The second the door closed, he turned toward you — gentle, attentive.

“Alright,” he said softly. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, then sighed.

“That girl,” you admitted. “She was really… forward.”

Sero frowned.

“That’s one word,” he muttered.

“And she was all over you.”

He blinked.

“And?”

“And she whispered in your ear,” you blurted.

His eyebrows shot up.

“…THAT’S what you’re upset about?”

“I’m not upset,” you said quickly. “I just—didn’t like it.”

Sero stepped closer, voice softening.

“Y/N… were you jealous?”

Heat crawled up your neck.

“…Maybe.”

His eyes softened immediately.

He lifted your chin with his finger.

“Hey,” he murmured, “don’t look away.”

You swallowed.

He stepped even closer, his warmth surrounding you, calm and grounding.

“You know you’re the only one I look at, right?” he said quietly. “You’re the only one I want.”

You scrunched your nose. “That girl was practically climbing into your lap.”

Sero snorted. “And I practically peeled her off.”

You tried not to smile.

“She whispered she could be my ‘sidepiece,’” he said with a disgusted look. “Sidepiece? Really? I’m not even cool enough for that.”

You laughed. “You’re plenty cool.”

“Well, yeah, but in like… a wholesome ‘I make tea and watch movies with my girlfriend’ way, not in a ‘I secretly cheat behind her back’ way.”

Your chest loosened a little.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You really think I’d entertain that?” he whispered.

“No.”

“And you really think I’d ever let someone talk to me like that when I have you?”

“…No.”

Sero smiled softly.

“Then why does this hurt you?” he asked gently.

Your throat tightened.

“I guess… I don’t like seeing other people want you like that. Or touch you like that. It makes me feel like—like I could lose you.”

Sero froze.

His eyes softened with something deep, almost aching.

“Oh, cariño…”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

You melted instantly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered into your hair. “Ever.”

Your fingers curled into his shirt.

He held you tighter.

“And you’re not losing me,” he said firmly. “Not to some random girl. Not to anyone.”

You exhaled shakily.

He pulled back just enough to see your face.

“You know what I thought when she touched me?” he asked.

You looked up. “What?”

“I thought, ‘Wow, if Y/N saw this, she’s gonna chew me out later.’”

You laughed into his chest.

He grinned.

“And then I thought, ‘I need a shower. Immediately.’”

You laughed harder, warmth bubbling through your chest.

Sero cupped your cheeks gently, his thumbs brushing your skin.

“Mi amor,” he murmured, “if someone flirts with me and you get jealous, all it does is confirm one thing.”

You raised a brow. “What?”

“That you love me.”

Your cheeks warmed.

“And that,” he said, leaning closer, “makes me feel… incredibly lucky.”

Your heart squeezed.

He kissed your forehead — slow, tender.

Then your nose.

Then both cheeks because he was dramatic like that.

Then finally, softly, your lips.

Warm. Sweet. Reassuring.

He pulled back with a soft breath against your mouth.

“I love you,” he whispered. “You hear me?”

You nodded.

“No, I want you to say it,” he said gently.

“I love you,” you murmured.

He smiled — that warm, radiant, boyish smile.

“There she is.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossibly devoted,” he corrected smugly.

You kissed him again to shut him up.

He kissed back with a small hum of satisfaction.

Then he pulled away, sliding his hand into yours.

“Now come on,” he said with a playful smirk. “Let’s go back out there so everyone knows exactly who I belong to.”

You arched a brow. “You want me to be glued to your side?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Hold my hand the whole time. Cling if you want. Make it obvious.”

You snorted. “You like it when I’m jealous?”

“I like it when you want me,” he corrected, leaning close. “And I love reminding the world that I’m yours.”

Warmth flooded your entire body.

“Come on, mi amor,” he murmured. “Let’s show them.”

You never thought of yourself as the jealous type.

You weren’t clingy, you weren’t insecure, and you definitely weren’t the kind of girl who got threatened by every pretty face around your boyfriend.

But that was before fan girls.

Before they started circling Katsuki like sharks scenting blood, before they waited for him outside class, shoved stupid gifts into his hands, giggled at every curse word that left his mouth.

He ignored them, of course. Katsuki Bakugo didn’t care about attention unless it came from you.

But one girl…

One girl made something cold curl in your stomach.

Hinata.

She wasn’t just persistent, she was relentless. Smart, pretty, with a quirk that everyone talked about, and absolutely convinced she had a chance with him.

And recently… he’d been less explosive with her. Less annoyed.

Not friendly, Katsuki didn’t do friendly, but something more neutral, calmer.

You hated how your brain filled in the blanks.

Maybe he respected her quirk.

Maybe he liked her confidence.

Maybe she was prettier, bolder, better.

Maybe…

That thought alone made your chest tighten.

The breaking point came on a Thursday afternoon.

You were heading down the hallway when you saw her, Hinata, standing a little too close to Katsuki. She wasn’t touching him. But she didn’t need to. The intent was obvious. She leaned forward, smiling up at him, twirling a strand of her hair.

And he… didn’t snap at her.

Didn’t shove past her.

Didn’t growl for her to fuck off.

He just stood there, arms crossed, expression bored but patient.

Something inside you cracked.

You froze, hidden behind the corner, listening despite hating yourself for it.

“…I made it for you,” Hinata said softly. You heard the rustle of paper, a handmade charm, glowing faintly with her quirk. “It’s for protection. I thought you could use it.”

Katsuki scoffed. “I don’t need shit like that.”

“But you kept the last one.”

You felt your stomach drop.

He kept something? From her?

Katsuki replied, annoyed, “I didn’t keep it. I just forgot to throw it out.”

But your mind didn’t hear that part.

It only heard “kept”.

It heard “her”.

It heard “neutral”.

You stepped back quietly and walked away.

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t get angry.

You just… shut down.

That night you barely spoke to him. You didn’t lean into him when he sat beside you. Didn’t laugh, didn’t tease, didn’t look at him longer than a second.

Katsuki noticed immediately.

At first he reacted the way he always did, irritation snapping short in his voice.

“What the hell is your problem?”

You just shook your head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

He hated those words.

Hated how empty they sounded.

Hated that you were pulling away from him for the first time since you became his.

He watched you avoid his eyes, watched your shoulders tense every time he moved closer. And something ugly twisted in his chest, panic, frustration, fear.

When you tried to leave his room that night, he grabbed your wrist, not hard but firm, the kind of touch that said: “No, not this time.”

“Stop walking away from me.”

“Katsuki…”

“No. Tell me.” His voice was low, rough with an emotion he didn’t know how to name.

You met his eyes, and he felt it, the crack in you, the insecurity he hadn’t noticed until it was already bleeding.

“It’s stupid,” you whispered. “I just… when I saw you with her, you didn’t push her away. You didn’t yell. She’s pretty, and talented, and everyone says she’s…”

“Shut up.”

You blinked, startled.

Katsuki stepped closer, jaw clenched, eyes sharp with something almost feral.

“Don’t you ever compare yourself to her.”

Your breath hitched as he crowded you back against the wall.

“She’s nothing to me. Do you hear me? I don’t give a single damn about her quirk or her face or whatever the fuck she thinks she’s doing.”

His hand cupped your jaw, thumbs trembling slightly, not with anger but fear.

“You think I’d want her?” His voice dropped, raw. “You think I’d look at anyone the way I look at you?”

Your eyes burned. “I just… you didn’t tell her to leave. You weren’t annoyed. I thought maybe…”

“Maybe what?” he snapped, leaning closer. “Maybe she’s better? Prettier? Stronger?”

Your silence was enough of an answer.

Katsuki swore under his breath, a harsh, broken sound, before he pressed his forehead to yours.

“I kept her stupid charm because I forgot it existed. I don’t fucking see her. I only see you.”

His fingers slid to the back of your neck, desperate, grounding.

“You think I’m gentle with people? You think I get calm for anyone?” His voice shook. “It’s because I don’t want to scare you. Not because I like her.”

You felt your chest tighten painfully.

Katsuki exhaled sharply, like he was fighting himself.

“Look at me,” he murmured.

You lifted your gaze.

His eyes burned.

“I don’t need her. I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone else.”

His forehead pressed harder against yours, breath unsteady.

“You’re it. You’re the only one who gets to stand close. The only one I want touching me. The only one I want looking at me like that.”

Your breath caught.

His next words were almost a growl, but soft underneath, terrified of losing you even for a second.

“You’re mine. And I’m yours. I’m not going fucking anywhere.”

Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer without thinking, and he finally, finally let out a trembling breath of relief.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you so tight it felt like he was trying to anchor himself to you.

“I don’t care about anyone else,” he whispered against your hair. “Just you. Always you.”

And for the first time that day, the cold in your chest melted.

°• Pairing: timeskip!Miya Atsumu × Reader

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You always knew Atsumu had a type.

You saw it back in high school - the way he’d get distracted by girls with long legs, dramatic lashes, and confident laughs that echoed through the hallway. He didn’t even hide it. If someone called him out, he’d grin and go, “What? I ain’t blind.”

You weren’t like them. Not then, not now.

Even now, years later, with you curled up on the corner of his couch in one of his oversized shirts, legs tucked under you, and hair still damp from your evening shower, the thought sometimes crept in.

You weren’t flashy. Or flirty. You didn’t walk into a room and make everyone turn their heads.

But somehow, you were the one Atsumu came home to. The one he texted when he landed in another city for a match. The one whose cold fingers he grumbled about but always held.

It didn’t make sense.

And tonight, for some reason, it hit harder than usual.

Maybe it was the girl he’d been interviewed with - a fellow athlete, bold and gorgeous, laughing too comfortably beside him. Maybe it was how well she matched the image of the girls you always thought he’d end up with.

Maybe it was just your own voice, whispering doubts you’d buried for too long.

Either way, when he came out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle tucked under his arm, ready to join you for a late-night movie, you couldn’t stop the words from slipping out.

“Atsumu?”

He glanced down, eyebrow lifted. “Hm?”

You hesitated, staring at the pattern on the couch.

“Why… me?”

He paused, slowly setting the bowl down on the coffee table.

“What?”

You looked up at him, small, nervous. “I mean, I know what kind of girls you used to like. Or still like. Probably. I’m not… that.”

He blinked at you. Not insulted. Just confused. “That?”

You motioned vaguely. “You know. Tall. Curvy. Confident. Girls who wear heels and red lipstick and know how to flirt without trying. You’ve always liked girls like that.”

Atsumu was quiet for a second.

Then, without a word, he sat beside you - not in the usual casual way, but closer. His hand found yours. Warm. Steady.

“Yeah,” he said finally, voice low. “I noticed girls like that. That’s different.”

You frowned. “Is it?”

He turned toward you, his expression more serious than usual. “Look, I ain’t gonna lie. I did have a type. Still probably get distracted sometimes - I’m a guy with eyes.”

You flinched.

“But,” he continued, squeezing your hand, “there’s a difference between who catches your eye and who you choose.”

You didn’t answer. Just stared at him, trying not to crumble.

Atsumu leaned forward, resting his forehead briefly against yours.

“I chose you,” he murmured. “I keep choosing you.”

You blinked quickly. “Why?”

He chuckled - not because it was funny, but because the question felt so absurd to him.

“Because you’re the only one who makes me feel like I can shut up for a second,” he said, soft and honest. “Because you look at me like I’m more than a loudmouth on a court. Because you keep me grounded. You don’t care about the attention or the fan crap. You care about me.”

Your chest tightened. He wasn’t done.

“And yeah, maybe you don’t walk in and turn heads,” he said, voice gentler now, “but you don’t need to. I turn mine for you.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to cry.

Atsumu caught that too. He leaned over and kissed your cheek. “I like the way you fit against me when we sleep. I like how you always eat the last french fry, even when you say you’re full. I like that you study the people you love and notice when they’re tired even if they don’t say anything.”

You laughed quietly. “That’s very specific.”

“So are my feelings for you.”

You let yourself lean against him then, all of your weight tucked into his side, forehead buried in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I just… felt small tonight.”

you can track katsuki's heated discovery through his footsteps.

the front door closes harshly enough that the house trembles, echoing down your spine at his arrival; it feels sudden, now, though—looking at the clock—you've been waiting for hours. his day has no doubt been just as tumultuous as yours, but his resounding frustration—both new and old—bleeds through the walls all too well.

it means something that he doesn't take off his boots; what's always been regarded as a criminal offense now bares his impatience, reveals how full his mind is of the things he needs to say. underneath the comforter, your toes curl, heart thudding heavy as his heels as he lumbers for the bedroom.

—only to come up empty.

an indistinguishable curse shoots from his mouth, across the house. first murmured and then chanted over and over again as he tears down the hall and back into the living room. you've left your shoes out for this reason, as well as a plate in the sink and a candle burning on the end table beside the couch.

you're still here; you want him to know that.

it's silent long enough for you to realize you're holding your breath, straining to hear his every move. your cheeks are salted with tears—both new and old—and you wipe at them cautiously, as if such a movement could give you away; it's not that you want to stay hidden, but you're nervous for what will unfold, when he finds you.

not because you're afraid of him, never of him, but—you just don't want to fight anymore.

🍰Todoroki/Fem Reader SFW & NSFW Headcannons

Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you’re not into this

Warnings; cursing, making out, Shouto is a champ at eating pussy (he has a tongue ring in this), ass eating, vaginal fingering, small bit of spanking, Shouto is a little bit subby in this (his moans & some of the things he says), dirty talk, Shouto has a bit of a praise kink, Shouto holds your hands behind your back when you ride him😮‍💨

Authors Note; sorry if this is too long- I had to complete the headcannons for my favorite three MHA boys sooner rather than later. I love Shouto, he deserves all the good things and a lot of hugs.

Hope you all enjoy these headcannons as much as I enjoyed writing them!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Shouto who comes off as cold, uninterested, maybe a bit of a dick, but who is actually so sweet & so loving, who is actually the kind of person that writes down facts about you so he doesn’t forget them (you found the list in his notes app—you definitely cried), who always buys extra of what he’s eating —so you can have some too (even if you said you weren’t hungry)

Shouto who doesn’t get social cues very well, who tilts his head when he’s confused, who wears a blank, spaced out expression on his face often, who lets you teach him how to read the room a bit easier, whose smile could actually melt ice with its warmth (Shouto makes the most facial expressions when he’s with you— you take that as a win)

Shouto who you met in high school, but weren’t really friends with— or dated until after you all graduated, who you crossed paths with while battling a villain, who you caught mid air when he was falling from the top of a building, on the verge of passing out (he says he swears he saw you with a halo, because he fell in love with an Angel that day)

Shouto who loves to drink strawberry milk, who has so many cartons cluttering the fridge in your home, who also brings you a glass when he’s drinking some, because he’s learned he can also show you he loves you by sharing what he likes with you (you think it’s so motherfucking cute when you are handed a glass of milk out of the blue)

Shouto who decides to be a bit rebellious after he gets out of high school, who wants to try new things, who decides to cut his hair shorter, who gets a nose ring, who pierces his ears (not to mention his tongue ring— you almost fainted when you noticed it the first time🥵) who goes with you when you get your own tattoos & piercings—he often wears jewelry that reminds him of you

Shouto who says his absolute favorite thing in the world is to snuggle up with you on the couch, when it’s raining, when the two of you are wrapped up in a fluffy blanket burrito, watching movies & napping (if it gets a little X rated, who can judge you😮‍💨)

Shouto who is a fucking dry texter, but who sends you pictures of things he knows you love while he’s out on patrol, especially pics of dogs that he encounters (he even ends up bringing one home for you), who gets so happy when you respond with pictures of things you know he enjoys—sort of making your own language with one another

Shouto who likes to wear more of a streetwear style when he’s not working (to your never ending delight), who likes to wear matching clothes with you (shoes, shirts, even matching colors, etc.), who even bought you both a pair of matching underwear (because it makes him feel like a part of you is with him—you did feel a bit smug, knowing you were technically sitting on his face all day)

Shouto who sucks ass at almost every video game, but who can annihilate anyone at Mario Kart, bitter because you don’t think you’ve ever beaten him, (although whenever you and your friends gather at your home, the highlight of the night is watching Bakugou lose to Sho over & over)

Shouto who has stayed close to Midoriya, considering the man as his brother by extension (you love the green haired man & see him often), who goes to the #1 hero for help planning you a surprise party by sending Midoriya a series of increasingly concerning emojis until he agrees (he was nervous he would mess it up—he didn’t)

Shouto who loves to eat peach gummy rings?? (not the only peach he likes to eat👀), who you have woken up to eating the candy at 2:00 am (you just take one and go back to sleep), who memorizes your favorite candy and leaves it for you to find everywhere— even your car (you love Shouto so goddamn much)

Shouto who has told you the story of how he got his burn mark, about his father, his brother and all the horrors of his past, who opened up to you—trusting you completely, wanting to share a side of himself others don’t see (you absolutely cried), who you trust in return—telling him everything about yourself & your own past

Shouto who has taken you to meet his family, meet his mother, who added you to the group chat with all his siblings (they are actually a lot of fun, even if Shouto only replies with one word answer or gifs), who tries to fit his face with more than one expression when he meets your parents (you tell him it doesn’t matter, because he’s perfect for you either way—that earns you another million watt smile)

Shouto who loves you wholly, deeply, completely, who is your soul mate, who is your best friend, who planted the seed of his love in your heart that has grown bigger than a California Redwood tree, who becomes your husband, who you love more than life itself—you’d start a war for this man (he’d do the same)

🍰Warning NSFW Below🍰

Shouto who enjoys kissing, who loves to lazily make out with you, who feels his cock start twitching in his briefs when the kiss starts to get heated & messy, lips slick as they glide together, who gets half hard when your tongue plays with his, whining gently when you tilt your head—flicking the tip of your soft tongue against his

Shouto who likes to lay you on your back in the bed, stripping you until your only in one of his large T-shirts, who likes to push it up your belly—slowly letting it get caught on your tits until he can watch them fall and bounce, who makes you keep the shirt up around your collarbone as his warm, wet mouth sucks on your nipples, pussy throbbing—no doubt wet as fuck now

Shouto who bites over the skin on your sternum, plush lips trailing down your belly until he gets to your pussy, who grips the bottoms of your thighs pressing them backwards to your chest, who gets onto his belly, looking up at you as he licks a stripe from your pussy lips up to your clit, making sure he swirls the cold metal of his tongue ring on the heated flesh (immediately you’re gripping the sheets, whimpering fuck Sho! when warm tingles radiate down to your toes)

Shouto whose eyes flutter closed while he eats you out, who moans into your pussy—vibrations you can feel throughout your groin, who makes you squeal when he sucks your clit—tongue ring feeling electric with every swipe of his tongue, who eagerly says pussy tastes s’good Angel, can I eat your ass? pretty please baby? (you flip over immediately)

Shouto who gets you both completely naked, whose cock is standing straight out when you take a look at it, who gets your ass in the air, face shoved into the sheets, who rains his hand down on your ass cheek, pain flaring brightly up to your hip, who gives you no break—gripping the thick flesh of your ass and spreading you open, kitten licking at your asshole (you almost scream—once again the sensations increased ten fold by the contrast of his chilly tongue ring)

Shouto who shoves his middle two fingers in your pussy with no warning, tearing a gasp from your chest, who finger fucks you and sucks on your tight hole until your lower belly tightens, pussy clenching his fingers, cumming hard, who fingers you through your orgasm— stroking his cock as he whines to you Angel your pussy is so fucking tight, wanna fuck you so bad, please can I? (you say yes immediately)

Shouto who knows you’re a pillow princess, who loves it, but has actual hearts in his eyes, cheeks flushed a sweet pink when he’s able to convince you to ride him for a little bit—reverse cowgirl style, who props his back against the headboard with a couple pillows, who pulls your hands behind your back—holding your wrists together in one hand

Shouto who spreads your ass with his free hand, whimpering uncontrollably as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy as you bounce in his lap, whose dick throbs and who sucks in air sharply between clenched teeth when you moan f-fucking hell Sho, your cock is so good, so big, gonna make me cum as you throw your head back

Shouto who can only take it for so long before he pushes you off his cock, manhandling you onto your back whispering in your ear gonna fuck your sweet pussy now, okay Angel? as he grips his shaft, feeling how slippery you’ve gotten his cock, sliding his dick all the way in with one thrust—making you cry out and dig your nails into his shoulders

Shouto who bends you in half, knees hooked over his shoulders as he squishes you into a mating press, who fucks you hard, hips curling up into your sweet spot, making you feel each drag of his cock, cumming within the first five strokes—& then again and again and again, orgasms popping in you like water balloons, pleasure gushing all the way up to your brain

Shouto who chokes on his moans as your slick, warm pussy squeezes his cock over & over, voice low & needy when he whines into your ear Angel please, cum on my cock one more time, need it baby, pretty please-m’gonna cum soon

Shouto who does make you cum one more time, who makes you start to feel dizzy from cumming & the angle you’re pretzeled into, you’re able to focus just enough to speak in between moans, saying Sho, hah—oh fuck! Sho, you’re such a good boy, fuck me so well, love your cock Sho, love you baby—who cums instantly when he hears your sweet voice praising him, high pitched, needy sounds falling from his lips as he grinds his hips against your ass, cumming in warm, sticky ribbons

Shouto who makes you feel like you have noodles for limbs, breathing heavy as you both feel giddy with the post orgasm glow, who unravels you slowly, pulling out & letting you spread out like a starfish, who flops down on your side, who lets you collect your thoughts—lacing his fingers with yours as you both relax into the mattress

facetime call… tobio <3

“sorry, guys, my boyfriend’s calling me.” you excuse yourself to the next room, closing the door to muffle the laughs coming from your friends.

swiping to answer, you’re immediately greeted by an unflattering shot of tobio’s nose. suppressing the giggle threatening to escape, you’re about to greet him when he goes,

“they’re out of mango, is peach okay?”

you’re confused.

“sorry?”

“i know she like mango green tea, but they don’t have it.” your boyfriend moves the phone back for you to recognize the interior of the bubble tea shop you always go to. it suddenly hits you that he’s not only grabbing drinks for you and your friends without asking, he remembers all your orders as well. you can’t help but coo at how sweet he is, missing your two friends sneaking up behind you and looking over your shoulder at the screen.

“hi tobio!” they both greet, and you see the phone shake as your boyfriend raises his hand to wave before returning to his unflattering pose.

“they don’t have mango green tea today, is peach okay?” he repeats his initial question, and you look at your friend for an answer.

it takes her a second to realize he’s speaking to her, “do they have lychee?”

you see tobio’s eyes look towards the board, he nods his head in confirmation.

“i’ll see you soon.” he says. “love you, baby.”

you can’t help but grin at him, repeating the phrase as your friends fawn over the two of you.

after you hang up, you can’t suppress the grin on your face as you all move back to the living room of your apartment, mind completely occupied with the fact that you have the most amazing boyfriend in the world. it’s only when you feel a buzz from your phone that your grin turns into a full on laugh.

tobio <3: btw what are their names again?

omg omg this is such a great idea!

youre cooking dinner when you hear the front door swing open.

“hi, honey!” you call to him, ready to switch off the burner so you can give him a welcome home kiss.

in return, all you get is a sigh as he sits on the couch.

“katsuki?” you call as you turn the corner from the kitchen to the living room.

you see him, head in his hands and still in his hero suit.

you walk towards him and thread your fingers through his hair, pulling his head toward your stomach.

normally he’d wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle into your stomach.

but today, he got news that he was being sent on a mission to canada for three months.

away from you.

away from his home.

away from everyone.

and if accepts it, it’s practically a guaranteed job offer to being the number one hero, his dream. though, it would put a large rift in your relationship as he wouldn’t be able to contact you in any way.

he stands from his spot on the couch.

“uh, i’m gonna shower. need to think for a minute.” he says, giving you a lifeless peck to your temple before he turns to leave.

you’d be upset, but he seems stressed. so instead you decide to throw pyjamas in the dryer for him so they’ll be warm once he’s out and start plating dinner.

you set the table before hearing the water shut off.

“ack!” you yelp, running to grab his pyjamas from the dryer.

“hey katsuki?” you call to him, knocking on the door.

you see his pretty face, ridden with stress as he opens the door.

“hm?” he asks lowly.

despite his worry, you still smile at his tired eyes and soft voice.

before you speak, you press a sweet kiss to his nose and watch his eyes flutter shut at the contact.

“brought you warm jammies.” you whisper, kissing his nose again.

he sighs against you before opening the door wider and bringing you into his arms.

“hi.” you whisper.

“mm.” he grunts, but you know he means ‘thank you, love you’.

you pull away after a minute.

“get dressed, dinners on the table.” you smile.

he nods and you head back into the kitchen.

the two of you eat dinner in silence while he thinks to himself.

“what’s on your mind?” you ask as the two of you wash the dishes.

he sets the final plate into the cupboard and clears his throat.

“just work.” he says.

“hmm. i’m sorry baby boy.” you coo, dragging your nails up his arms.

he groans, leaning back into you.

you hug him from behind, reaching your hand under his shirt and brushing against his abs soothingly.

“you gonna tell me specifically?” you ask softly.

he sighs and straightens up.

“not until i decide what to do.” he replies, turning in your arms.

you smile sadly and take him by the hand into your bedroom.

“sleep on it then?” you ask and he nods.

as the two of you get ready for bed in silence you wonder what has him so stressed out.

if he couldn’t save someone he would be more upset and he would’ve told you.

if there was a deadline coming up for his report of a scene he would’ve worked on it today.

if he was being sent on a mission he would be happy.

unless?

“come to bed.” katsuki’s call for you interrupts your thoughts and you shut the bathroom light off before climbing into bed with him.

you stroke his cheek affectionately.

“you sure i cant help with the decision?” you try one more time.

he grabs your palm off his cheek and presses a kiss to it.

“not this time, sweetness.” he replies.

you sigh but nod nonetheless before turning away from him.

he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, pressing kisses to your shoulder.

“i love you, katsuki. i know you’ll make a good decision.” you smile, turning your head to him.

he smiles sadly in return and presses a kiss to your lips, the first of the night.

it continues for minutes as he conveys every emotion within him.

his stress.

his love.

his anger.

his sorrow.

and you take it all, drinking it in and calming the storm brewing in his mind.

“i love you more.” he says.

you grin sheepishly and press a final peck to his lips.

“get some rest, kay?” you smile and lay your head on his arm.

“alright.” he says back, arms tightening around you.

as the two of you sleep, your mind is calm, full of white noise of love and laughter. while katsuki’s mind is plagued with darkness, storms returning with fury as he fights to make the right decision.

katsuki’s ferocious dreams bleed into yours as you feel white hot pain on your torso.

you open your already tear filled eyes and see katsuki’s hands burning into your flesh the same way his dreams burned yours.

you swallow a cry, a shout, you wrangle yourself out of his arms and throw yourself onto the other end of the bed.

you see your katsuki, eyes still closed, brain still unconscious, as he burns himself now.

“katsuki! katsuki wake up, baby. you’re burning yourself!” you shriek.

“katsuki!”

his eyes snap open and his quirk deactivates immediately.

“fuck! i’m sorry.” he apologizes for scaring you.

“did you hurt yourself? let me see!” you cry, lifting his shirt seeing the minor burns on his skin.

“shit… i really liked this shirt.” he attempts to joke but you huff and glare at him.

jumping out of bed you grab his hand and start pulling him to the bathroom.

“i need to clean your wounds.” you mumble.

he follows and sees your charred shirt.

“did i hurt you??” he asks, worry laced in his tone.

“i’m fine, you just got my shirt.” you lie, turning on the bathroom light.

the two of you step in the bathroom.

“sit on the edge of the tub. where’s the first aid kit?” you say looking around the room.

he sits silently while keeping his eyes locked on your torso.

you open the cupboard under the sink and find what you’re looking for.

you walk towards katsuki while opening the first aid kit and ruffling through it while mumbling to yourself.

when you’re in arms reach his hands grab the back of your thighs.

your mumbling ceases and the bathroom goes quiet.

setting the first aid kit on the toilet you thread your fingers through his hair similarly to when he first came home tonight.

“did i burn you?” he whispers, restating his question.

“no, katsuki. i told you, it’s just my shirt. let’s get you clean-“ you’re forced to cut yourself off as he lifts your shirt and sees the nauseating burns on your torso.

his breath hitches and you look down to see tears falling from his eyes.

“it’s not your fault.” you rush to tell him.

his eyes look to yours.

those glossy, heart shattering eyes looking to you for guidance, for an answer.

“it’s not your fault.” you repeat.

he looks back at your burns before his eyes return to yours.

“i burned you.” he whispers, voice cracking.

“you were unconscious.” you whisper back, leaning down to press your forehead to his.

“it’s okay. it’s okay. it’s okay.” you repeat as your arms wrap around his head and his face finds the junction between your neck and shoulder.

his sobs begin to fill the bathroom and you hold him and repeat to him.

“it’s okay. it’s okay. it’s okay.”

ten minutes later he’s calm enough.

“you going to tell me what has you this worked up, now?” you ask.

“they want me to go on a no-contact mission for three months. in canada.” he whispers, numb from his crying.

you kiss his dried tears and he allows his eyes to fall shut.

“if it means you get that number one spot like you’ve always dreamed then we can get through it, katsuki.” you say.

“i’m not going.” he replies, snapping out of his numbed stare.

you blink at him.

“what do you mean? this is your dream and i’m going to support you every step of the way.” you smile.

“i’m not going.” he repeats as he grabs your hand and pulls you through the house.

you follow, confused.

“katsuki??”

“i’m taking your ass to the hospital.” he says, tightening his grip on your hand.

“we’re getting these burns treated.” he grabs his keys and opens the front door.

“i’m going to work ten times as hard.” he pulls you out the door and to his car.

“i’m going to be the number one hero.” he opens your car door and helps you sit.

“and i’m going to do it all right here. with you.” he confirms, grinning determinedly at you.

a bright smile takes over your face as you grab his cheeks and kiss him sweetly.

“i love you.” you whisper.

“i love you more and i’m sorry i burned you, baby girl. never again, okay?” he says, pecking your cheeks repeatedly.

you nod in affirmation and he closes your car door.

and this couldn’t possibly lead you to even more books!

NOT a sp0tify premium apk AND NOT among us for pc!!!

ABSOLUTELY NOT A LIBRARY OF iTALIAN AND eNGLISH TTRPG MANUAL PDFs INCLUDING D&D, PATHFINDER AND OTHER SYSTEMS

in bloom miya osamu/reader (haikyuu!) word count: 2.8k tags: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort-ish, grand romantic gestures, vague mentions of mental illness, osamu being The Best man on earth, osamu owning a pickup truck is canon and i refuse to elaborate on this

“Hey.”

Your eyes peel open slowly, your eyelids heavy with the weight of sleep you aren't quite ready to be torn from.

You blink once, then twice, and on the third blink your eyes flutter shut again—slumber calling you back too enticingly to keep them open.

“C’mon sleeping beauty, ya gotta get up now.”

You can smell coffee, the deep notes of the dark roast that Osamu prefers registering distantly in your tired mind. When you open your eyes again, the lamp on your bedside table has been turned on, and your slightly untidy bedroom is bathed in the light of the warm toned bulb.

“I’m tired,” you say weakly.

“I know baby, ya don’t gotta stay awake long—just need to getcha into the truck, alright?”

TY LOVE AND THANK U FOR SENDING ME HIM :')

tags: friends to lovers, mutual pining, first kisses, suna just generally being a menace

Your cellphone starts ringing halfway through a rousing rendition of Gloria Gaynor's 'I Will Survive' that the group of your drunk friends at the front of the karaoke bar are butchering beyond the point of recognition. The sound would have been lost to the performance were it not for the steady vibration in your palm.

You're so lost in the laughter that wracks your frame, and the absolute spectacle of your company, that you hardly even glance at the caller ID as you answer the call.

"Hello?" you ask, laughter bubbling through your lips as you bring the phone up to your ear, your hand reaching to cover the opposite in an attempt (however useless it may be) to block out some of the noise.

"Where are you?" Suna's voice comes from the other line, forgoing any greeting in favour of getting down to the source of the racket coming from your side of the call.

"I'm at karaoke," you laugh again, pitching forward as one of your friends makes a valiant (but horrendous) attempt at a high note.

"It sounds like someone's dying," Suna remarks.

You wrap your arm around yourself to squeeze your sides that ache with the strain of laughter. "Yeah, me."

"I'm outside your house."

You stop laughing.

"What?"

oikawa x reader

desc: oikawa changes some lyrics in taylor swift’s song “love story”

a/n: please keep in mind that most of this is just humorous & there’s no serious characterization in this particular story. i laughed a lot while writing it :,,) for @cutiekawa because you gave me the idea; thank you for that! and also for @seroto-rin because this is very similar to your husband’s lyric changing habits lol – i still laugh whenever i think about it <3 warnings: language, mentions drinking/being drunk

wc: 3k

— It’s 2 am when you hear Oikawa pattering down the hallway and past your room. From the gentle footsteps and the occasional whisper of “shit” when the floor creaks, it’s obvious that he’s trying to stay quiet.

But his attempts are in vain because, one, you’re wide awake and, two, he’s just knocked over an empty beer can from earlier. It was probably the one he’d left on the hall table – you’d told him to throw it away but he’d refused saying that he’d “throw it away in the morning when his arms weren’t so tired.” 

This is just karma.

The clatter of the aluminum on wooden floors echoes throughout the dorm. A much louder, especially frustrated, “fuck” follows right after it.

The word, though crass, sounds deceptively attractive on his tongue. But most things Oikawa-related just happen to be attractive. 

You muffle your laughter with a blanket. He’s probably disoriented from the alcohol – it’s only been an hour and 5 drinks each since you both called it a night. You’d headed straight to bed but he’d fallen asleep on the couch where you left him, hair a-mess and lips parted.

But, for someone who used to stay out till daybreak on weekends, he’s spent most Fridays hanging out with you instead.

This weekend was no different.

Oikawa ordered Thai takeout, you found a mindless Netflix series to binge, both of you had a little too much to drink, laughter ensued, the doe-eyed boy found his head in your lap, and…

You pull a face – one that goes unseen because of the dark, but you make it anyway.

Okay, that last part was a little different.

He’d had his head in your lap.

His head… in your… lap.

And, if you’re not mistaken (or delirious), you’d had your hands in his hair, twirling strands and tracing circles at the base of his neck. A foggy image of him gazing up at you with softened eyes, deep chocolate in color, begins to solidify. 

That lazy smile, a hand on your thigh, tresses tickling your skin…

You turn over in your bed, bunching up your sheets and holding them close to you like a shield of fabric — a flimsy, make-shift defense against tipsy mind-wandering. It isn’t very effective.

Your brain is not wandering but racing around this hand-in-hair realization.

Tendou x f!reader 

Angst with a happy ending, excessive fluff, friends to lovers, smut, dry humping 

4.4k words

tempura onigiri osamu miya x fem!reader (fluff) synopsis: you get a phone call three times from the same unknown number word count: 1.1k warnings: mentions of eating/hunger, a little ooc

    "uh, hello?" 

   "yes, uh this isn't sumu's girlfriend or anything?" a masculine voice crackles through the phone, your nose scrunching up at the confusion. 

  "no, i'm certainly not dating any 'sumu'. i'm pretty sure you have the wrong number," you sigh, biting your lip before hovering your finger over the hang up button, "uh good luck getting a hang of him though."

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — MIYA OSAMU x FEM READER

On a bad day, Onigiri Miya becomes your new comfort restaurant. Not only is the food good, but the man who takes your orders is always kind. You think the Miya you’ve been venting to on the phone is the same Miya who shows up at your door to deliver all of your orders.

It’s too bad you don’t know there’s two of them.

wc — 2k

tags — fluff, romcom, miscommunication, miserable corporate girl x small business owner who teaches her joy

The email doesn’t even do you the courtesy of being short. They make you read through two whole paragraphs before you get to the point of it all in the final sentence. 

Your termination is effectively immediately. 

You sit back in your chair to allow yourself a moment to take it in. It’s…not terrible, all things considered. 

You get to leave this job that you hate. They’ll pay you severance. You have enough savings to be comfortable for the next few months. 

It might even a blessing.

But it still doesn’t feel good. You worked hard to land this, and now you’ll have to start all over again. Change is always hard, especially when you haven’t asked for it. 

You look at the clock. It’s currently 8:30 in the morning. You’re giving yourself exactly twenty four hours to wallow, and then it’s back to business. 

Can you write a hc of haikyuu boys trying to wake y/n in the morning and their reactions when they notice y/n isn’t responding because they’re burning up/ sick.

Haikyuu boys waking you up and realizing you’re running a fever 

featuring:: IWAIZUMI Hajime, OIKAWA Toru, MATSUKAWA Issei, HANAMAKI Takahiro

genre:: slice of life / fluff

warning:: none!

a/n: thank you darling! I picked the Seijoh four, I hope you enjoyed reading this :)

❥ IWAIZUMI Hajime 

Iwaizumi glances down at the clock and calls out to you from the kitchen, “babe, wake up! It’s 8 am already! if you don’t get up I’ll drag you out of bed myself.” His threat goes unheard as the burning sensation in your head had you in a trance. Iwaizumi walks into the bedroom and immediately notices the flush of red on your cheeks. He’s on his feet, running towards the drawer and pulling out the thermometer. A quick test confirmed it, you’re running a high fever. Iwaizumi loosens the tie around his neck and calls his boss, “yeah, I'm gonna have to take a day off. My wife is running a fever. I’ll see you tomorrow.” As soon as he got off the phone, Iwaizumi is pacing back and forth from the kitchen to the bedroom. He changes the cold towel on your head every so often while making sure the chicken noodle soup is cooked just right. You wake up sometime in the afternoon, fever all gone, a tired Hajime’s fingers laced around yours as he fell asleep by your side. “thank you for taking care of me.” He wakes up at the sound of your voice and smiles in relief, “I'll always take care of you.”