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⇢ tags: a/b/o, soft alpha deku, knotting, aged up characters
⇢ summary: Pro Hero Deku is a frequent visitor at your support lab and you’re grateful for it. He’s one of your high profile clients and his quirk is strong enough that he has to come for suit repairs near twice a month. It helps that he’s one of the most bearable alphas you’ve ever met, affable and kind, and he never judges you for being a rare omega in the hero line of work. It also helps that he’s painfully, absurdly hot.
You’re perhaps never more grateful for his nature than when the building housing your lab collapses with the two of you in it, and as the walls and floors of your lab crumble, so does the suppressor device that keeps your heats in check and your hormones under control. As the dust settles, you realize you are trapped by rubble and dust and twisted metal with perhaps the only alpha alive that you trust, as your adrenaline surges and your carefully suppressed heat cycle comes roaring to life.
Summary: In the final war you aided Edgeshot in bringing Bakugo back to life with your healing quirk. However the damage done to your body from the backlash was irreversible. You could no longer be the hero you dreamed of being. You still tried to live life and even moved away for a bit. But now you’re back and Bakugo has been your aggressive nurse, but when he finds out things you haven’t told him he feels like he hadn’t paid you back at all. So when he finds out Mina is moving out, he feels like he finally has the opportunity to.
tags: slowburn, mutual pining, fluff, SMUT! Unprotected p in v.
a/n: this is truly a self indulgent fic/series for sure. Again thank you for the comments 🥹.
In the tangled shadows of the manicured bushes, the two paparazzi hovered over the camera. The glow of the screen illuminated their grinning faces.
"Holy shit," one whispered, tapping the glass. "Look at the angle. He leaves the restaurant with Uraraka and tracks down some chick in a park to make out? We just caught Pro Hero Dynamight cheating."
"The tabloids are gonna lose their minds," the other hissed, already queuing up the upload link to their editor. "This is worth a fortune. Send it through."
Katsuki was standing at the stove, aggressively flipping eggs with a spatula, while you sat at the kitchen island, wrapped in one of his oversized hoodies, sipping your coffee.
You watched him for a minute but your eyes darted to the ruined couch, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips as you remember the absolute chaos of the night before.
"Hey, Katsuki?" You asked, setting your mug down.
"What?" he grunted, not looking back.
"Does your quirk go off... you know, every time you finish?"
Katsuki stopped, the spatula hovered over the frying pan for a tense three seconds before he slammed it down. He turned around, a bright blush creeping up from his collarbone all the way to the tips of his ears.
"No! It doesn't!" he defended, though his voice cracking, looking anywhere but you. "Look... I’ve never- I thought it’d be fine. The only other time that ever happened was when I was a hormonal teenager first figuring my shit out. When I’m by myself, it never happens. I have total control."
"Oh," you purred, leaning your chin on your hand, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "So what you’re saying is... I make you lose control?"
"Shut up," he muttered, turning back to the eggs. "It was a fluke. Sensory overload or whatever."
"Well," you joked, a playful smirk plastered across your face. "They do say practice makes perfect. Maybe we just need more practice."
Katsuki stopped again, he turned off the burner completely. He set the spatula down, his expression shifting from embarrassed to intensely predatory in the span of a single heartbeat.
"Yeah?" he murmured, stepping away from the stove. His voice had dropped to that low, gravelly register that made your stomach do flips. "You want to practice?"
He was across the kitchen. In one seamless, powerful motion, grabbing you by the waist and hoisted you backward onto the kitchen counter, knocking over a bottle of vitamins in the process. You gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders as he parted your legs with his hips.
"Because I'd love to practice," he smirked, kissing you roughly.
Katsuki didn't waste any time, his hand slid under your hoodie, his warm hand kneeding your breast. His other hand found your dampening panties, his thumb stoking your clothed clit, causing your hips buck forward. His thumb hooked around your panties, sliding them out of the way. His other hand left your breast to shuffle his sweats down.
He was already hard from the sheer thrill of having you right there on the counter. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, burying your face in his neck as he slowly slid his tip up and down your folds pulling a soft gasp from both of you.
He slowly sunk into you, thrusting gently until he was fully inside you, finding a shallow slow rhythm. You let out a soft cry, your fingers knotting into his hair as your legs squeezed his waist tighter.
"Still in control?" You managed to gasp out, a mocking little smile on your lips. He smirked taking your words as a challenge.
"Shut up and hold on." He pulled his hips back before snapping them forward, pulling a gasp out of you. He set a fast, demanding pace, hitting that same dizzying spot that had you arching into him and your toes curling. His thrust desperately, trying to get deeper every time your hips met each other.
Every time you whimpered his name, his grip on your hips tightened, his thumb pressing into your hipbone with a needy, desperate possessiveness. His thrust got harder every time he felt your pussy flutter around him, his face pace faltered. Your back arching even more as his tip kissed your cervix. He was completely focused on you, his breathing turning ragged as you both started to reach toward that familiar, burning peak.
You were so close, the friction and heat blurring everything else out, when—
BRRRRRRR-BRRRRRRR-BRRRRRRR!
A loud, obnoxious, high-priority alarm blasted through the apartment.
Katsuki’s pace faltered, his chest heaving as he slowed. You groaned, your head falling back against the kitchen cabinet.
BRRRRRRR-BRRRRRRR-BRRRRRRR!
It was his agency work phone, sitting on the living room coffee table, vibrating so hard it was practically moving on its own.
"Noooo," you whined, your legs slumping slightly around his waist. "Please tell me that isn’t your work phone."
Katsuki closed his eyes, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder with a heavy, deeply defeated sigh. His shoulders slumped as he let out a long, annoyed groan. "Fuck"
With a final, annoyed huff, he slid out of you, leaving you feeling empty and pissed. He gently lifted you setting your feet back down on the floor.
Katsuki snatched the vibrating phone off the coffee table, so hard it’s a miracle the phone didn’t shatter.
"What the hell do you want?!" he barked into the receiver.
"What the hell do I want? I want a new career, Bakugo, but instead I'm dealing with you," Miura’s voice clipped through the speaker, entirely out of patience. The poor man sounded like he was pacing a hole into his office carpet. "We have a massive problem. Some underground forums just leaked photos of you in the park last night with some woman! The press is already running with it."
Katsuki’s jaw clenched, his eyes snapped toward the kitchen, locking onto you. A sudden, ugly jolt of adrenaline spiked through his chest. "The hell are you babbling about? I wasn't doing shit."
"You were kissing someone, Bakugo! It’s on camera!" Miura raised his voice. "Do you have any idea how much money we spent to secure that high profile dinner?! You were supposed to be at a five-star restaurant with Japan's sweetheart, but instead, you sneaked out the back like a teenager to make out in a public park!"
"I don't give a damn about your fake-ass dinner!" Katsuki shot back, the palms of his hands starting to heat up. "I told you I wasn't playing along with that corporate crap anyway!"
"Well, you're playing in the nuclear fallout now," Miura snapped, completely unfazed by the shouting. "The public thinks Dynamight is a cheating scumbag, your approval ratings are tanking. Get your ass to the agency! Now!"
The line went dead. Miura hung up with a vicious click, clearly refusing to give Katsuki the satisfaction of yelling back.
Katsuki stared at the blank screen, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white.
A text from Kirishima popped up in his banner: 'Bro, this doesn’t look manly. What the hell happen?!
Another texted followed, from his mother, Mitsuki Bakugo: 'You absolute dumbass! What did you do?!'
"Katsuki...? What's going on? Is everything okay?"
Katsuki stopped mid stride, looking at you with a look of sheer dread. He swallowed hard, his voice angry and frantic. "The fucking paparazzi. They took photos of us last night on the street. The tabloids ran them. Everyone thinks I’m cheating on round face."
Your heart dropped into your stomach.
Before you could even process the words, Katsuki was already a whirlwind of panicked energy. He ran to his bedroom and threw open the closet, ripping a clean shirt off the hanger, and bolted into the bathroom. You could hear him aggressively brushing his teeth, cursing around a mouthful of foam.
You follow him and reached for your own phone on the night stand. The moment your screen lit up, your stomach twisted into a tight knot.
The news had broken. Across every major media outlet, social media platform, and the notification banners were flashing in bright red bold letters.
DYNAMIGHT’S DOUBLE LIFE? PRO HERO SPOTTED CHEATING ON URARAKA WITH MYSTERY WOMAN!
Exclusive photos catch the hot-headed hero abandoning his romantic dinner date with Pro Hero Uravity to passionately embrace an unidentified woman in the streets late last night...
Scrolling through the comments, the public reaction was devastating. You through the live comment sections. The internet was a warzone. Half the people were violently throwing hate at Dynamight, calling him a arrogant scumbag, while die-hard fans were desperately denying it, claiming the photos were photoshopped or AI. Thousands of comments were pouring in offering deep sympathy for Uraraka, painting her as the betrayed victim.
Then you looked at your own notifications. Mina had sent a string of texts, followed by a missed FaceTime call.
"Hey!" Katsuki shouted, bursting back into the bedroom, fully dressed but his hair still a wild mess. He grabbed his keys off the dresser. "You’re coming with me to the agency. We’re sorting this shit out right now!"
"Right!" You jumped up, adrenaline overriding your usual morning stiffness. You quickly pulled on a pair of pants and a top, not even caring that your hair was a mess, and followed him out the door.
The drive to the agency was pure chaos. Katsuki gripped the steering wheel with one hand, while his phone sat on the dashboard on speakerphone. He was in a screaming match with Miura.
"I am not making a fake public apology for something I didn't fucking do!" Katsuki argued over the engine.
"Bakugo, look at the public perception!" Miura’s voice shouted back over the speaker. "The narrative is already set! If we don't handle this gracefully, your endorsements are gone!"
"I don't give a shit about the endorsements! I care—" he cut himself off, his eyes darting to you in the passenger seat, his hand white knuckling the wheel. "Just have the damn boardroom ready!"
While they argued, you sat in the passenger seat, your fingers trembling as you pulled up the official Hero Billboard Charts. The rankings updated in real-time based on public approval and media metrics.
Your breath hitched.
"Shit, hey…Kats..." you whispered, your voice cutting through his shouting match with the agent.
Katsuki glanced at you, raising an eyebrow.
"What?"
You looked at the screen, a heavy dread settling over you. "The charts. You... you already dropped. You were at 8, now you’re at 15…again."
“Tch, shit.”
The cost of last night was hitting hard, and you hadn't even reached the agency yet.
You knew he wasn’t mad at you, you knew he’d never blame you for this. But logic couldn't stop the sudden constriction in your throat, or the suffocating weight of a guilt that wasn't even yours to carry. Your mind began its familiar, spiraling trick.
I’m stressing him out…again. I’m just making his life more stressful and difficult. I should’ve checked looked around. I should’ve just stayed at home. Why’d I even-
“Stop.” his voice interrupting your mental spiral. “You’re quiet. It’s just paparazzi idiots being nosy as hell. I didn’t know they were there either.”
He intertwined his fingers with yours, pulling your hand up to press a soft, calloused kiss against your skin. He looked entirely out of his depth doing it, but the clumsy sweetness of the gesture anchored you anyway, quieting your mind.
The tires of Katsuki’s car screeched, echoing against the concrete walls of his agency's underground garage. He didn't even wait for the engine to fully die before he was out of his seat, opening your door and pulling you out as gently but as quickly as possible.
Outside the main entrance, a swarm of paparazzi and journalists were already gathering. You could hear them even from down here. Katsuki’s grip on your wrist was firm but completely mindful of the possible nerve pain that could potentially flare up thanks to the sudden stress. He guided you through the heavy security back doors, keeping you close behind him.
The moment the two of you stepped into the hallways, the entire atmosphere shifted.
The busy hum of the agency died suddenly and the air felt suffocating. Employees, sidekicks, and support staff stopped dead in their tracks. Papers lowered. Clipboards tilted. Every single pair of eyes burned into you, tracking your face, trying to match your features to the blurry, scandalous photos that had destroyed the internet an hour ago.
“Is that her? The girl from the park?”
“Who even is she? A civilian?”
“I think she’s a retired sidekick?”
“She looks familiar”
“Did Dynamight really throw away his reputation for a nobody?”
The whispers chased you up the elevator. Katsuki didn't look at a single one of them, but the terrifyingly loud sparks popping from his clenched fists told you everything. He was vibrating with a lethal, suppressed rage, as he kicked the boardroom door open.
Miura, his head PR manager, was pacing the floor, sweat beading on his forehead. On the massive conference table, three different tablets were face up, their screens a chaotic blur of live update on social media feeds. On the main wall screen, a speakerphone line was active, glowing with the logo of Uraraka’s agency.
"I don't care about the press release timeline!" Miura slammed his open hand on the table, spinning around as the door banged against the wall. His eyes landed on Katsuki, then slowly slid down to you. He stopped mid-stride, squinting through his glasses. "Wait. What. You... you look-? Who the hell is this?"
Katsuki stepped directly in front of you, completely shielding you from Miura's prying eyes. "Keep your eyes to yourself, you bastard," Katsuki muttered, his voice a low and annoyed. "Y/n J/n. Now tell me what the fuck the damage is."
The line on the speakerphone went dead silent. Kugisaki, Uraraka’s head PR agent spoke up. "Wait...l/n? That healer support hero from the UA class?"
Miura sank into a chair, rubbing his temples, completely ignoring the weight of your name as he pulled up a tablet. "The damage is catastrophic, Bakugo. Look at the feeds. It’s a bloodbath."
He slid the tablet across the table. You leaned over slightly, your eyes catching the horrific headlines and top comments scrolling by at a dizzying speed:
[#DynamightIsOver] He really cheated on Uravity? After everything she’s done for the community? Men are trash.
[QuirkBro9821] Uraraka deserves so much better. Look at her charity work, and he’s out here humiliating her.
[riotlover1016] How are you going to be best friends with the Red Riot and still cheat?!😭
[HeroWatch] Dynamight’s agency is silent. Support for Uravity triples as fans rally around her.
[HeroGossip] Well he did place in top 5 in Heroes most likely to be toxic🤷🏽♀️
"They're painting you as a toxic, lying cheater, and they're treating Uraraka like a tragic saint," Miura sighed, leaning back.
"Uraraka’s agency wants to release a statement immediately confirming a breakup to save her image, which means you take the full heat. You'll lose your endorsements by tonight."
"We have to protect Ochaco's brand," Kugisaki, chimed in over the speaker. "We can't be dragged down by Dynamight’s... indiscretion. We need a clean break. We’ll say they grew apart, but the photo makes him look guilty."
"No," Katsuki growled, his palms sparking against the back of a chair. "We aren't releasing a single lie. The 'relationship' with round face was a fake PR stunt your agency begged for to boost her charity counseling drive. I only agreed to it because I wanted the paparazzi off my own goddamn back. We tell them the truth."
"We can't just say it was fake!" Miura countered, slamming his pen down. "If we just say 'Oh, it was a PR stunt,' the public will think you're both liars and frauds. They’ll hate you and Uraraka. We need a reason why it was fake. A reason the public will accept."
"Then make up a reason! That's what I pay you for!" Katsuki yelled.
The room fell into a tense, frustrating back-and-forth. For ten minutes, ideas were thrown at the wall and immediately smashed to pieces.
"What if we say it was for an undercover sting operation?" Kugisaki suggested.
"Stupid. The commission would have to back it up, and they won't lie for us," Miura shut it down.
"What if we say you and Uraraka were already broken up, and the timeline of the photo is being manipulated?" Miura offered.
"The photos are timestamped, moron. The internet already proved it was last night," Katsuki groaned, dragging his hands down his face.
You stood there, listening to them look for a way out of the terrifying reality of the public eye. Feeling nauseous and useless. You rack your brain trying to find a solution.
"Why..." your voice was small, you cleared your voice it cut through the noise.
Katsuki turned his head instantly, his eyes softening the second they landed on you.
"Why can’t we just tell them the truth again?" you questioned, your face feeling hot when the attention turned to you.
“Who did you say you were again?” Miura questioned, his mind trying to think of why your name sounded familiar.
“Y/n L/n, sir” You looked at Miura, your eyes wide with a quiet, building panic.
“Wait…l/n…l/n? You’re the girl that saved Bakugo! What was it? H/N?” Miura looked like he could kiss you. “Your name should be a household name? Why isn’t?”
Katsuki looked at you, searching for any sign of discomfort, any sign that you were overwhelmed.
"Oh, ah-well, after the war... I spent a year trying to figure out how to even live with this condition. The thought of trying to juggle the media on top of that felt overwhelming. the media attention was too much. I even left the country for a bit.”
You caught Katsuki’s eyes, your departure from the country was a still a major sore spot neither of you talked about, even though you both knew you couldn’t ignore it forever. You swallowed hard, your voice trembling slightly. "Over time people moved on and I enjoyed being out of the spotlight. I just wanted peace to recover and find my new normal."
Silence once again fell over the room. Katsuki stared at you, stepping closer, his hand coming up to gently rest on the small of your back, his thumb brushing against you to soothe your nerves. He hated this. He hated that the world was pry back into the quiet, safe sanctuary he had built for you over the last year.
On the speakerphone, there was a sudden, sharp gasp from Kugisaki.
"Wait... hold on. Look at it from that angle." Her voice completely changed tone, shifting from frantic panic to sharp corporate calculation. "Why did Bakugo agree to the fake relationship with Uraraka in the first place? To pull the media away from his private life. Why did he need privacy? Because he was hiding his recovering savior, who is also his love!"
Miura sat up straight, his eyes widening behind his glasses. "Holy shit."
"Think about it," she continued, the words spilling out fast and fluid. "The girl who literally put Dynamight's heart back together when he died in the final war. She traced her future for his. She wants peace. She's disabled, she's traumatized, and she just wants peace. Bakugo is fiercely protective of her. He sees the paparazzi circling him, so he coordinates a fake romance with Uravity—“
“His trusted friend!” Miura cut in.
“Yes! To act as a massive lightning rod. It draws all the media cameras away from his true love, away from l/n, giving her the quiet environment she needs to heal."
Miura was already nodding aggressively, his fingers flying across his tablet. "And Uraraka looks like an absolute hero of a friend. She agrees to the fake romance to protect a disabled war veteran’s privacy, while simultaneously using the media circus to fundraise for her quirk counseling program! It hits every single emotional, tragic, and heroic beat perfectly."
"The public wouldn't just forgive you," Miura said, looking up at Katsuki with a manic grin. "They would practically worship you two. A fake relationship born out of pure, desperate loyalty to protect the woman who saved your life? It turns a cheating scandal into the greatest love story of the decade."
"It works," katsuki agreed. He wasn't looking at Miura. He was looking entirely at you, his thumb still rubbing your lower back. While he hated the media and paparazzi, his priority, was and always would be, your safety. "It protects you. It keeps the damn vultures from calling you a homewrecker, clears my name as a cheater and it keeps round race from looking like a victim."
He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you. "What do you think?”
You swallowed the lump of anxiety in your throat, nodding slowly. "Yeah...like I said, just tell them the truth."
"Brilliant!" Miura clapped his hands together, snapping back into full blown command mode. "Kamo! Get in touch with our top three media outlets right now. Control the narrative before anyone else leaks anything. Hoshi! set up the press release drafts, and then—"
Miura turned a unyielding smile directly toward you. "—we coordinate with you. To completely seal this and make it bulletproof, we’re going to need a joint, live-broadcast interview with Dynamight and H/N. The public will love it!"
Katsuki whipped his head around so fast it look like it hurt, subtly pulling you closer, before walking away.
"Are you fucking deaf?!" Katsuki stepped directly into Miura's personal space, his hands slamming onto the table. "Huh?! She JUST told you she doesn’t want the spotlight! She doesn't need to be dragged in front of a bunch of flashing cameras and a hundred lying ass reporters!"
"Listen, it's the only way they'll believe it's genuine—" Kugisaki tried to argue over the speaker.
"I don't give a damn what they believe!" Katsuki shouted. "She doesn’t have to do it! If she doesn’t want to. "
But as katsuki continued to yell, you stood there trapped, trying to process what he said.
The word interview bounced around the walls of your skull, echoing until it turned into a deafening roar.
A live broadcast. Cameras. Millions of people watching you, judging you, picking apart your expressions, all while you were being dragged out of hiding because of a toxic, messy cheating scandal. The sheer weight of it pressed down on your chest like a physical block of concrete. You wanted to throw up.
You could feel your heart rate climbing, a frantic, erratic drumming against your ribs.
Your breathing turned shallow, and a terrifyingly familiar tingling sensation in your lips and suddenly feeling light headed, the telltale sign of your nervous system misfiring under extreme stress. The boardroom began to tilt. Seeking an anchor, you reached out, your trembling hand brushing against katsuki’s shoulder.
"Katsuki..." you whispered, but the sound barely left your throat before your knees gave out.
"Huh-Y/N…Hey—!"
Katsuki’s sharp, panicked shout was the last thing you heard. His reflexes caught you before you could hit the hard mahogany floor. He scooped you up, his heart hammering violently against his chest as he laid you down gently on the long leather sofa at the back of the boardroom.
Instantly, the room erupted into chaos.
"Oh my god, is she okay?!" Kamo, the assistant, shrieked.
Miura scrambled forward, his glasses slipping down his nose. "Call 119! What happened? Did she—"
"Get the fuck back!" Katsuki commanded, making Miura freeze mid-step. Katsuki stood over you like a feral, protective wall, as he glared at the staff trying to crowd around. He locked eyes with his panicked personal assistant, Sato, a young man clutching a tablet. "Sato! Get some ice and a cold towel. Now! The rest of you, clear out before I blast you through the goddamn walls!"
Nobody dared to argue when he looked ready to murder. Within ten seconds, the boardroom doors clicked shut, Sato quickly slipping back in to set a bag of ice and a cold cloth on the table before practically sprinting back out.
Katsuki placed the bag of ice on your chest and the cool cloth on your head. Helplessly watching your body struggle to regulate itself.
You weren’t always like this. His mind unwillingly dragged him back to UA, to you running laps, laughing, using your quirk without a care in the world, living a normal, healthy life. You used to have boundless energy. You used to be untouchable.
And then the final war happened.
You had dragged him back from the edge of the afterlife, forcing your own quirk past its absolute breaking point to restart his heart. You saved him. And the cost of that miracle was paid out of your own nervous system, leaving you with a body that now misbehaved whenever it got too tired or too stressed, or even if you stood up too fast.
My fault, he thought, a heavy guilt dropping into his stomach. Every time this happens, it’s because of me. If I hadn’t been weak, if I hadn’t let myself get killed...
A soft shift in your breathing broke him out of his spiral. When your eyes slowly fluttered open, the harsh fluorescent lights of the boardroom nearly blinded you.
Then you saw Katsuki. He was kneeling on the floor right beside the couch, his large, calloused hand holding a cold cloth gently against your forehead. His face was closer than usual, his sharp features pinched with an intense, quiet worry that he rarely showed the rest of the world.
When he noticed you blinking up at him, he visibly relaxed and exhaled. His voice, dropped into a tone that was incredibly gentle, calm, and grounded.
"Hey," he murmured, his thumb lightly brushing against your cheek. "Stay still. Don't try to move yet."
You swallowed hard, your throat feeling incredibly dry as you looked at him. "I'm... I'm okay," you croaked out, trying to offer a reassuring smile. "Just... extremely overwhelmed. And, honestly... it probably didn't help that we had sex three times between last night and this morning and I didn't properly rest afterwards."
Katsuki stared at you for a second, completely caught off guard. Then, the corner of his mouth hitched. A genuine laugh broke through his chest, a rare, beautiful sound that instantly cut through the lingering tension in the room.
"You idiot," he chuckled, shaking his head as he carefully adjusted the cold cloth on your forehead. "It was like two and three fourths, we didn't even get to finish this morning."
That stupid arrogant smirk on his face brought a wave of comfort washing over you.
"Ugh, don’t remind me," you mumbled, a small laugh finally escaping your lips.
"Suffer," he murmured softly. His hands found your waist, and with practiced, effortless care, he helped you guide your body up into a sitting position. Before you could even complain about the slight dizziness, Katsuki took a seat on the couch right next to you.
He gently pulled your upper body back down, guiding your head to rest directly on his thigh, letting you lie back down in a much more comfortable position. His fingers began to weave through your hair to soothe your nerves.
"Listen to me," Katsuki said, his voice turning serious again as he looked down at you. "We aren't doing the live interview. I don't give a shit what Miura or Kugisaki say. I'm not letting them drag you out there."
He paused, his hand hesitating in your hair for a split second before continuing. "I don't want you pushing yourself for me...again. I spent the last year making sure that you’re as comfortable as possible. I’m not letting a bunch of parasitic reporters disrupt your peace. Unless you are okay with it.”
You listened to him, your mind spinning through the different scenarios, your fingers lightly tracing his hand. You loved him so much it ached. He was willing to let the whole world think the worst of him just to keep you safe in your quiet sanctuary.
But you didn't want him to carry the weight of a lie either.
"Katsuki?" you said quietly, breaking the silence.
"Yeah?"
"What if we compromise?" You shifted slightly, looking up at him. "What if... what if we take some like professional photos together? You know? show them we’re real. And instead of a live broadcast with a hundred screaming reporters, we do a private interview. Just us, Miura, and a single trusted journalist in a closed room. They publish an entire article on it along with the photos. But we should still look over it, and release it on our own terms. No flashing cameras, no surprise questions, and not on live TV like Miura and Uraraka's agents wanted."
Katsuki was quiet for a long moment, considering it, thinking it through. His eyes searched your face, checking for any sign of hesitation.
"If that’s what you want," he finally said, his thumb rubbing the back of your knuckles. "It'll work because I'll make it work. If anyone objects, I'll blast their ass all the way to hell ."
He leaned down, removing your cold cloth and pressing a kiss against your forehead. Still a bit clumsy and awkward but to be fair it was only your second day of dating.
"Your happiness and your comfort are what matter most to me, y/n," he whispered against your skin, his grip on your hand tightening. "The rest of the world can burn for all I care. We do this your way, or we don't do it at all."
coming home from a tiring day and expecting bkg to be up and ready and cooking but to find him on the couch snoozing :(
nom nom nom
for the next move in your relationship with bakugou katsuki, he gave you the key to his apartment. it’s a fancy word, apartment. not flat, not your student shared house you lived in a few years ago or your family home with your tiny bedroom and snacks that will be snatched by your siblings.
your boyfriend’s apartment. it’s a skyscraper bachelor pad which, with the integration of you in his life, has become a home of more. or really katsuki’s house, with mini shrines to you all over it.
your favourite cereal and fruit bars in the cupboards, your favourite biscuits you dip in your tea and the fridge with a tub of the only yoghurt you eat. his living room which before had no blankets, has four. all chosen by you every time you go shopping with him and his inability to say no. then about three books you’re currently reading, your nintendo switch you leave at his house. his bathroom with your spare toothbrush, makeup wipes and a duplicate skincare selection of the one you have at home.
however, even though it might look like you live here for half of your week, your boyfriend still loves to treat you like a guest.
cooking for you every time you come over. fluffing up his cushions so you don’t think he only comes to his apartment to sleep and leaves for work. cleans up, showers, resprays himself with cologne and deodorant.
with all that said, you know what to expect with katsuki, especially when you use his front door key for the first time. no need to knock and wait to hear him rush over to the door, waiting a single second to pretend to look like he didn’t just run before opening the door.
this time, you opened the door yourself and instead of seeing your boyfriend in his kitchen, mixing something in his wok, adding soy sauce somewhere and veggies somewhere else, you can’t see him anywhere. you know he’s home though, he texted you an hour ago to say he would be.
you kick off your shoes and pull off your jacket. dumping your bag on the floor, you wade your way through his apartment.
“katsuki? are you on the toilet?” you call but as soon as you enter his living room, you go silent. a smile springs up on your face instead.
“awe,” you mumble and the feeling you get when you see a cute puppy, a little tiny kitten or a chubby sweet baby, fills up inside of you. warmth and love, everything pink with the urge to squeeze.
this grown ass man was dead to the world. laid out on his cloud ivory L shaped sofa, on his back, chest softly breathing up and down, up and down. in through his nose and out through his lips.
it’s rare you witness katsuki sleeping. he’s always up before you for his work and on weekends when you get to sleep in, he’s always in that half awake stage when if you try and sneak out under him, suddenly he gains all consciousness to drag you back.
the size of him is a shock. to see a man that large resting. he feels like a lion, ready to pounce at any hint of a predator. he’s in his comfy clothes, wool hoodie and grey joggers. both his hands on his stomach, resting over each other like an old man. you coo at the sight of him with no frowns nor is he on the edge of a bark.
you kneel at the edge of the sofa, knowing that if anyone where to see you now, you’d be framed as a loving girlfriend or an utter creep.
you couldn’t care less. you brush katsuki’s damp blonde strands off his forehead, wondering whether kissing his cheek is worth it to wake him up.
until one eye snaps open. bakugou jumps out of your grasp, onto his elbows with a yelp, “fuck!”
he makes you jump too, eyes wide as you watch his cortisol slowly level back to normal.
“it’s just me!”
“shit, i wasn’t expectin’ you to be there.” he lays back on the sofa, forearm over his eyes. sleep causes his voice to be a deep growl, every word delicious. “didn’t even realise i fell asleep, was supposed to be startin’ dinner for ya.”
“it’s okay, you must have been sleepy,” you say quietly, hands back on your lap and bakugou swings his head over to look at you.
he licks his bottom lip. eyes with creases around them, skin stiff but the endearment in his eyes is undeniable.
“how are you, sweets? sorry, i’m outta it.” he reaches for your waist, urging you to sit up next to him on the sofa.
you do eagerly, flinging your body over his like he’s your life boat, head on his shoulder. bakugou wraps his arms around your back.
“i’m fine. you’re such a cute sleeper.”
bakugou scoffs, closing his eyes, “shut up.”
“you are! like a baby, one who’s eating all their meals.”
“yeah?” he entertains.
“hm,” you hum, “wanna kiss all over your sweet cheeks.”
he peels one eye open. one thing about the prohero, he loves your attention. “go on. then i’ll start cookin’.”
you sit up, hands on his shoulders, “we can always order in. you’re clearly exhausted.”
“i like cookin’ for you,” he mumbles when you press your lips onto his cheekbone.
immediately bakugou grins, hands resting on your hips.
“but you don’t have to.”
another kiss to his right cheekbone. then his chin.
“i would rather lay here with you,” he murmurs.
“nice. i’ll look for something for us.”
a kiss on his eyelids, then his forehead.
“proper kiss now.” he pushes, tilting up his chin to keep closer to your face.
“so bossy,” you smirk before pressing your lips onto his.
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You meet a green-haired boy in middle school and decide he isn't the loser everyone says he is.
There’s a weird boy in your class.
Or, at least, that’s what everyone says. You’ve transferred to a new middle school. The semester has barely started, and while you’re still learning the general mood of this place, you’ve noticed one thing.
Your classmates scurry away from one particular individual. Green hair forms a curly bush about his head, and his eyes are of similar color. More often than not, you’ll see him scribbling in a notebook between classes. Sometimes, he’s so entranced by its contents that he’ll get called out by a teacher. It reminds you of a frightened rabbit, the way he jumps out of his seat and apologizes profusely every time. The rest of the class tends to laugh when that happens, but the boy doesn’t join in with them.
Like everyone else, for the first few weeks, you kept your distance from him. Maybe he’s mean. Or self-centered. But as you watch him, you don’t observe any of that. What you do notice is that more often than not, he’s alone. During lunch, between classes, and even at the end of the day. The only time he’s not… is when he’s being bullied. You’ve seen it: the way the loudmouth blonde in your class, Bakugou Katsuki, turns him into his personal plaything. You stare at the boy with pity whenever he arrives in homeroom, looking a bit more ruffled than usual, eyes dulled with weariness.
Other than those times, no one wants to talk to him. Some days, you think of straight-up asking:
‘Why are you alone?’
But that would be cruel, wouldn’t it? Why would you ask the boy who’s by himself why he’s always so?
Instead, you listen to the whispers of your classmates.
‘Oh, Midoriya? He’s quirkless. It’s kinda sad, really.’
‘No powers. What a loser.’
‘Bakugou really hates him. Probably because of his…condition.’
It’s from these comments that you learn the boy’s actual name. Not Deku, as Bakugou calls him. Not a quirkless loser, or a pathetic pipsqueak, or any of those things. Midoriya. Your brows furrow at the remarks. All this ostracization, because he doesn’t possess the power they do? But he’s a person, is he not? Why is that the thing that makes them all stay away? You’d understand if he had the personality of Bakugou, as the boy is trash. Garbage in human form, and still, for some reason, everyone flocks to him. But Midoriya—though you know little to nothing of his personality—hasn’t lashed out, hasn’t pushed, hasn’t screamed at the world for this wrongdoing.
You feel like you should do something. But all the solutions you can think of land you in hot water. You’re new here, and you don’t want to be dodging bullets the whole year because you decided to talk to the outcast. At the same time, if you were in his shoes…wouldn’t you want a friend, too?
Eventually, these conflicting thoughts reach your mother's ears. You work together in the kitchen, voicing your thoughts as you help her cut vegetables.
“—and I’m pretty sure he’s getting bullied, Ma. For the stupidest reason, too! He doesn’t have a quirk, so what? He’s a person!”
Your mom glances at you, the corner of her eye crinkling with warmth. “And what are you going to do about it?”
“Huh?”
“It’s bothering you enough that you’ve talked about this Midoriya boy for a few weeks now. Why haven’t you become friends with him already?”
You freeze, knife halfway through an onion. You rub your eyes harshly. “...What if I get pulled into it?”
Your mother’s look suddenly sharpens, and you feel a cold bolt of dread spear through your back. “No one gets away with bullying my daughter.”
“I-I fully believe you, Mom.” You laugh anxiously. “But the other kids probably won’t like that.”
She softens, turning to wash rice in the sink. “Maybe not. But how long are you going to let these other kids dictate what you’re going to do? I know you’re young and at that age when you want to fit in with everyone else, but middle school is only a small part of your life. Spend it doing what you want to do, and your father and I will support you the entire way.”
As if summoned, you hear keys twist the front door’s lock, and your father steps through. His gaze brightens at both of you in the kitchen.
“There’s my lovely ladies!” He cheers, dropping his gear near the entryway and meeting you with a swift hug. You laugh in his tight embrace as he picks you up, laying a kiss against your hair. Then he moves to your mom, gently kissing her cheek.
His gaze darts to the ingredients strewn about the kitchen. “What are you girls making?”
“Oyakodon!” You pipe up. “Better hurry before I eat it all!”
Your dad laughs, moving away to pick up his discarded things. “Agh, so impatient! Give me a moment, and I’ll help you guys out, okay?”
He leaves for the bedroom. You and your mom stare after him until he’s fully gone, a smile still on your lips. You hope Midoriya has something like this, with good parents, even if he doesn’t get to experience it at school.
You blink twice at the intrusive thought, remembering the conversation from before.
“Mom,” you start as she turns back to you. “If, maybe, I decide to be friends with this boy…could he come over? Like, hang out and stuff?”
Unexpectedly, your mom grins. It’s something you don’t see very often, so you can’t help but mimic the gesture.
“Only if he isn’t a troublemaker.”
• • ✧ • •
And so, you decide to befriend the weird boy.
Coming around to doing that, however, is more difficult than you initially thought.
He doesn’t really…talk to anybody. For understandable reasons, obviously. You don’t sit near him during your classes. As soon as the bell rings, he’s up and out of the door before you can call his name. If he didn’t know you existed, you would’ve thought he was avoiding you on purpose.
But one day, you get an opportunity.
A field trip to a museum. It highlights pro heroes, featuring their achievements, costumes, and even retired support items that pros past and present have donated to the place. When your teacher announced it, everyone grew especially excited. You, however, watched for Midoriya’s reaction.
The boy’s face was brighter than you’d ever seen it. If you weren’t aware he possessed no quirk, you would’ve thought the way his eyes glowed was some aspect of it. You try your best to hide a smile.
The day the field trip arrives, your class is shuffled onto a large bus with a few other middle school classes. In the chaos, you don’t even see a glimpse of Midoriya. For a moment, you wonder if the boy decided to be absent today…until you spot him near the middle of the bus, seated next to another rowdy teenager. He looks uncomfortable, trying to ease it by scribbling something in his notebook and ignoring the jabs thrown his way.
You sigh, glancing outside the window as the bus pulls away from the curb.
Middle schoolers really do suck.
When the bus finally drops you all off, one of the museum's tour guides welcomes you into the building. The excited chatter of your classmates fills the open atrium. You loiter for a few minutes while the rest of the students from your middle school gather and a headcount is taken. Sifting through the multiple bodies crowding the lobby, you search for one particular head of verdant hair—
And there he is.
You find Midoriya off to the side, as usual, staring up at what looks to be old support gear. You don’t care much for it, more interested in the boy himself. He scribbles something in his notebook, eyes darting between it and the gear. He paces in front of it, as if trying to get as many perspectives as possible.
You step closer, only to find yourself growing uncertain. This could be a mistake. One that could cost possible friendships for the rest of your school year. Hanging out with Midoriya is a risk. But when you get within speaking distance, you hear the boy muttering something under his breath. Much too fast for you to catch, but it pertains to the display. Instead of being cowed by it…you find it strangely endearing. It’s the final push that has you speaking to the boy.
“You’re Midoriya, right?”
The green-haired teen jumps nearly a foot in the air, hugging his notebook tight to his chest as he pivots to face you. His gaze darts about your form before they slightly widen in recognition.
“U-um, y-yes! That’s, that’s me! Y-you’re in my homeroom!”
Your head tilts, bemused. He’s as high-strung as you thought he was. Stupidly, you ask, “You know who I am?”
As soon as you say it aloud, you want to hit yourself over the head with a hammer. Of course, he knows. You’re in the same class, for goodness’ sake.
Midoriya, unaware of your internal plight, plows on with, “y-yeah! You’re new to Aldera! Um, how’s it been for you? Adjusting?”
You blink once. Twice. Then, you find yourself smiling. No one has asked how your transition has been, not even your teachers. And sure, you aren’t exactly screaming it for the world to acknowledge you, but to hear it from the mouth of the boy who, understandably, should be much meaner than he actually is, throws you for a loop.
It’s a few seconds too long, though, and Midoriya doesn’t take your silence well. He flushes, waving his hands frantically. “U-uh, s-sorry! It’s really none of my business to ask, is it? And I don’t know why you’d ever tell me—we d-don’t really know each other and, and I’m sorry for asking something so personal!”
“What if I wanted to get to know you?” You say, testing whether the direct approach is best for talking with the boy.
Midoriya rambles a few more words before he trails off. Then stops completely. You can physically see the gears turning in his mind as he processes your words.
“...W-what?”
You raise a brow at his response. “I wanted to get to know you?”
Midoriya continues to stay silent, but as you peer at him more closely, a splotch of rose blooms on his cheeks, then rushes over his entire face. You actively fight against the smile that threatens to expose you. This guy is odd, but not in a bad way.
His sudden exclamation would startle you, if not for the fact that the museum lobby is already a hubbub of student chatter. “M-m-me? W-why?!”
This time, you do let your smile show. “I think you’re interesting, Midoriya.”
Midoriya, actually, physically, holds a hand to his chest as if he’s trying to stop his heart from leaping right out. His face is still as red as a tomato. If it could start smoking, it would. He mutters something under his breath, and you think you catch words like ‘a girl’ and ‘mess it up’ before you reach out and poke his shoulder.
Again, the boy stiffens like a board. It’s so entertaining, like being a cat playing with a mouse, except you really shouldn’t think of it that way because Midoriya’s a person. Okay, you have to backtrack before you break him permanently.
“And, to answer your question from before, Aldera’s been nice, for the most part,” you answer honestly, gaze wandering away from Midoriya and to the exhibit behind him. “It’s been a challenge finding people who aren’t superficial, but I’ll chalk it up to everyone still being unaware of me. I am starting in the second year, after all. Everyone’s already made their friends.”
Midoriya nods, his face a lighter red than before now that the focus isn’t on him. He audibly gulps before stammering, “I-I hope y-you’re…able to find some.” You might be imagining the way his tone sours at the end of his sentence.
Though you want to speak on that, you realize it might be inappropriate for this relationship you’re trying to build. So instead, you point at the display behind Midoriya, “Do you know what that is? Looks vintage.”
Like the sun lifting from the horizon, Midoriya’s face beams. He darts back to the display with the eagerness of a kid showing off their object at show-and-tell. “This was All Might’s old support gear! It was designed to withstand 20-30% of his power, but it was destroyed whenever he exceeded those limits! So eventually he decided to go on without it. I imagine he either donated the parts that remained here to the museum or they got blueprints, and this is merely a replica, but it’s incredible to see it here nonetheless!”
The boy turns back to you, finding you reading off a plaque in front of the item. He blanches. “S-sorry! I said too much, didn’t I?”
“Nah,” you wave away his concerns. “You really know your stuff. You sure you didn't read off the plaque?” You're fully aware he didn't notice until you mentioned it.
Midoriya seems to lack an answer to that. Before he can try to summon one, however, you hear your teacher call for order. It's about time. You were wondering when the show was going to get rolling, though you would've been equally pleased to prod Midoriya's brain a little more.
As your class collectively moves deeper into the museum, Midoriya is more than stunned. To be randomly approached by a girl in his class when usually the only ones who had taunted him or were dared to talk to him were the ones who did. It’s never been to have a conversation. Never to compliment—oh goodness, you complimented him, didn't you? At least, he thinks you did! The concept of someone being around him for reasons outside of those two makes his brain whirl. Past experiences make him doubt—at any moment you can turn around and reveal your hidden agenda all along—but dammit, Midoriya dares to hope.
As the tour guide leads them deeper into the museum, the boy takes a risk. He walks beside you. You glance at him sidelong, and though he feels his ears grow pathetically hot, you don’t comment on it. Instead, your lips quirk upward before focusing ahead.
Midoriya swears he can feel every movement in his body—the blood flowing through his veins, the rapid beating of his heart, his neurons alight like fireworks at the thought that someone can be around him without hating him instantly.
In another area of the building, more hero history comes to life. The class disperses and explores the area with your teacher ensuring everyone reconvenes in the lobby in a few hours.
Midoriya watches as you veer toward a holographic podium featuring pro heroes. With a natural, self-preserving instinct to cling to the one person who’s shown him a lick of kindness, he hesitantly trails you. A screen stands right before the display. Tapping away at it, you watch as the hologram shifts to All Might in his iconic pose, a fist raised as he’s donned in an unfamiliar suit.
“Huh,” you murmur aloud, “is this some type of suit the museum made to avoid copyright? I’ve never seen All Might wear this on television, anyway.”
Following your gaze, Midoriya’s own widens in recognition. “That’s All Might’s Silver Age costume!”
“Silver Age?”
“The one he wore when working with Sir Nighteye, his former sidekick. He didn’t stay with the circular design on his Golden Age costume, but you can still see where he decided to keep some features! Like, the white and red are more muted in the latter age but are still present, which I guess he kept because of his ties to the United States. Their flag does possess those colors, so it’d make sense he’d attribute his suit to the very place he debuted. The yellow is a different take though, maybe because it goes with his hair? It’s bright, visible, and matches what he wants to stand for—”
“You are a walking encyclopedia of knowledge, aren’t you?” You interrupt, though not unkindly. Midoriya turns into a whirlwind of flailing arms and repeated apologies.
“S-sorry! I know I ramble, a little too much; Kacchan seems to think.”
You raise a brow at the name ‘Kacchan’ before you focus on the greater issue. “Oh, that wasn’t supposed to be an insult. I think it’s cool. Also, who’s Kacchan?”
Midoriya is silent for a few seconds, eyes impossibly wide, before processing your question. “Kacchan? Um, he’s in our class…Bakugou?”
The corner of your lip twitches. “That name doesn’t match him at all.”
“W-well, we’re childhood frie—I mean, we grew up together, and I’ve always called h-him that, so it stuck.”
“And in return, he calls you Deku.” You note, remembering all the times when Bakugou would make a very public, very loud example of the boy.
Midoriya seems to deflate, nervously intertwining his hands in search of a response. “...Yeah.”
‘You need better friends,’ is what comes to mind, but he didn’t really pick Bakugou, did he? Circumstances brought them together, and now it’s circumstances that keep Midoriya close. You’ve seen how the green-haired boy seems eager to interact with Bakugou, even when the latter wants nothing to do with them. Most times, it’s easier to stick with what you know, but what if what you know hurts you?
“Well, who’s your favorite?” You move on, glancing back at the screen and using the slider to spin Hologram All Might.
“Huh?”
“Your favorite hero? You must have one, right?”
Midoriya stares at you, mouth slightly agape. For the first time since you’ve officially met him, you feel your heart sink. Maybe you’ve been too forward and made him uncomfortable.
“You also don’t need to have one—” You backtrack, voice getting smaller at the end of your sentence.
“I-it’s All Might!” The boy exclaims, a little too loudly.
“Ooooh,” you recover, somehow expecting the answer. “He’s a good pick. Why do you like him?”
Little did you know, the smaller boy knows a bunch when it comes to the hero. You pegged him as a pro hero fan, sure, but that was not an accurate description. He’s obsessed. Somehow, you spend the next fifteen minutes theorizing about All Might’s quirk, talking about its intricacies and whatnot. You compare it to other pros and learn that Midoriya has a thing for quirks. Out of seemingly nowhere, he pulls out a notebook filled to the brim with hero theories, applications, and perspectives you haven’t even heard from the most dedicated of media. As he flips through the pages, you note heroes you’ve never heard of. This boy is after everybody, it seems. No hero escapes his analysing eye.
Shyly, Midoriya asks about your favorite hero and brightens when he flips to the page about them. He’s a decent artist too, you realize, as you peer at detailed scribbles outlined with hastily written notes, as if the boy had written them without actually looking at the paper.
It amazes you, and you’re about to start another tangent when you notice a flock of younger kids behind you, their gaze darting between the pro hero hologram and you both.
“Ah, we’re in the way,” you say offhandedly, grasping Midoriya’s wrist and leading him to an alcove away from the display. As you suspected, the kids lunge for the hologram. Midoriya, on the other hand, threatens to combust once more as he processes the physical imprint of your wrist around his.
He’s…he’s touching a girl!!!
Luckily for him, you either don’t notice his dilemma or decide to have mercy and brush past it, because you pipe up with, “You know what? I think your brain should be put in this museum instead.”
“W-w-what?”
“You’re smart. You mentioned things about heroes I would’ve never considered,” you compliment, as if Midoriya isn’t gawking at yet more praise. He really thinks he’ll combust. Or wake up and realize this was all a dream. “My ma would say you’ve got a big brain.”
And though this brain comes from rigorous attention to detail on hero stats, your mom would also say having hobbies is better than drugs, vaping, or whatever the kids like to do nowadays.
“U-um, t-thank you? But I’d like to keep my brain right where it is, I think.”
And instead of scoffing, or belittling him, or finally revealing all this was some cruel prank—you laugh. It’s a tittering giggle that you muffle poorly, opening an eye to glance at him before swiftly darting away, still laughing all the while.
Your mirth is like a siren’s call, beckoning him to join in too, and for the first time in a long time, Midoriya is laughing along with someone. It’s a completely different experience. His chest feels lighter, releasing the weight of insecurity and loneliness. Even if this is temporary, he knows he won’t forget it.
When you both calm, you face Midoriya with a glimmer in your eyes. “That’s funny,” you gleam, and even if he wasn’t staring at you, he’d be able to hear the wide smile you wear.
Midoriya tries not to think about what that sentence could mean. Those words have never been used to describe him, but the boy is learning this has become a day of ‘firsts’.
All thanks to you.
Before Midoriya can overthink again, you peer further down the hallway, where the rest of the museum beckons.
“It’s been half an hour, and we’re still basically at the entrance.” You take a step away, and for a moment, Midoriya thinks you intend to leave him. But, really, from your prior behavior, he should’ve expected another surprise because you gesture toward the hallway.
“You wanna explore the rest of this place together?”
Midoriya doesn’t even stop to think before he agrees. He’ll reflect on the moment later and realize how desperate he sounded and how pathetic he truly was. But you’ll never mention it.
And so, your joint adventure starts.
Every inch of the museum is explored. It's full of the things you'd expect—displays of support gear, blueprints of projects that never came to be, and scattered bits of hero history that have Midoriya filling out pages and pages of his notebook. All of which he's content to share with you. At some point, in your endless search for more, you unintentionally end up in a staff corridor, only to be escorted out of the area by one of the staff members minutes later.
Izuku nearly combusted at being caught, and you suspect he’s not a fan of getting in trouble with authority. When he glanced at you, however, he found you completely unapologetic.
‘It’s a part of the adventure!’ You had said, and Midoriya, though he didn’t really mean it, wondered if he traveled with a maniac.
Then, you stumble upon something less expected.
Like the arcade that you encounter on the third floor. You wondered why the floor was getting louder the farther you got up the stairs. Removed from the quieter, obviously more museum part of the place, you and Midoriya side-eye each other at the entrance.
“S-should we go…?” He murmurs.
You nod, glad to agree. “There might be some cool games? Though I’ve never been in a museum with an arcade before.”
“Maybe they’re trying to appeal to younger audiences?” Midoriya suggests, and you shrug.
“Might as well see what they’ve got.”
The space is obviously crowded, and you recognize the faces of many of your peers as you step under the neon lights and colorfully illuminated machines. If the main exhibits aren’t of interest, you could spend your time here. Midoriya shuffles closer to you as you navigate some narrow parts of the arcade, uniforms brushing against each other. While you swear you hear a squeak from the boy in response, you don’t find yourself minding.
Finally, near the back of the place, you find an unused game. It’s one of those sit-down arcade games, which just so happens to allow for two-player co-op or PVP.
You stop in your tracks, hearing a muffled 'oomph' behind you as Midoriya bumps into you. He apologizes profusely, but you turn back to him with a wide grin.
"Have you heard of Smash Pros?"
"Huh? N-no, I don't think I have…"
"It's a fighting game featuring pro heroes that came out a few years ago. I bet All Might's in there! You wanna try it?"
Midoriya's gaze darts between you and the game. His smile is shaky and uncertain, but he nods determinedly anyway. "Sure! I don't know if I'll be any good, but…"
"Then we'll both be bad, and it'll be great!" You continue your trek, unconsciously grabbing Midoriya by the hand once more and leading him past a few more crowded machines before you make it to the game in the corner. You settle one of the chairs, and Midoriya in the other.
You press start without any preamble and watch as the dark screen bursts with color. The boy next to you flinches at the sudden cacophany of sound as the game begins its introduction, and you meet his gaze with a giggle.
"Co-op or PVP?"
"Uh…hmm. You can…you can pick? I don't mind either way!"
"Cool! I'm gonna completely decimate you, then," you jest as you select the PVP option.
"W-what?!"
Your laugh is drowned out in the thunderous arcade as you turn to the screen and pick your character. Beside you, Midoriya softly chuckles to himself, turning to the screen as well.
In the character selector, you pick Edgeshot. As you expected, Midoriya chooses All Might. Once both of you have confirmed your characters, a goofy little animation of them flits on screen, and then a brief guide on the button controls. You glance sidelong at the boy.
"Practice round?" You ask.
"What? But I thought you said you were going to win?"
You raise a brow. "You testing me, boy? You think I couldn't pummel All Might right here and now?"
Midoriya, not yet privy to your mannerisms, placatingly waves his hands before him as if it could physically ease the imaginary tension. "N-n-no! I wasn't doubting your ability, promise! I was just asking because I thought—"
"Oh goodness, calm down," you shake your head. "I was playing with ya! But seriously, watch yourself, Mighty boy, or I just might wipe the floor with you."
You grab the controls. "Ready?"
He follows your lead. "Yes!"
The first round goes about as well as you expected. Neither of you has any experience in video games, much less a PVP fighter, so you and Midoriya fumble through your attacks and special moves. Your commentary seems to ease the strain on Midoriya's features and allow him to have fun. You wonder how long it's been since he got to laugh without facing disapproval, anger, or contempt. Since you've transferred to Aldera, you've yet to see him do so.
So, to witness it now, playing this stupid game that you both suck at, and getting to see him open up to you like a flower in spring...it's great. You think that maybe, just maybe, he could be your first actual friend here.
The boy, not privy to your musings, gains the upper hand at your lack of attention. You're both at equally low health, but he somehow gets off a special move that you swear you dodged, and a massive 'Knockout!' appears on your side of the screen. You're tempted to make playful excuses for why you lost—how you let him win, how the controller buttons didn't work, or something more ridiculous—but you look at the childish glee on his face, the way his verdant eyes shine as he meets your gaze, and you decide that you can accept losing. Just this once.
You raise a hand to him. "That was fun! Good work!"
Midoriya gazes between your hand and your face, pausing for a moment before meeting it in a high five. "U-um, yeah! You too! You were really good, and it was close there—I couldn't even tell who was going to win!"
"Well, it'd be weird if All Might wasn't on top, right?"
Midoriya's lips part to answer, before he's interrupted.
"Hey, look at that! Well, if it isn't useless Deku himself!"
You catch the moment the boy's eyes widen in familiarity. His shoulders curl in on themselves as though sitting normally was forbidden. Two boys, ones you notice are typically around Bakugou, make themselves known in the arcade aisle. One of them flexes abnormally long fingers, most likely a part of his quirk. Your brows furrow at the unwelcome visitors.
"What are you even doing in the arcade, dude? We know you're not the type to play. Did ya leave your notebook behind? Actually, maybe it's best you did. You get all weird and mutter-y when you write in that thing."
"…I-I've still got my notebook. I-I just…thought it'd be fun to try something different." Midoriya stammers, and you can barely hear him over the sound of arcade machines. His timbre is monotone, like expressing too much emotion could mean being taken advantage of. You wouldn't be surprised if that truly was the case.
"See? Aaaaand you've gone quiet again. Okay, well, Deku, we wanted to let you know that we want to try out this game, and you're in the way. Maybe you can hang out away from the arcade, alright?"
Really? When there are probably dozens of other games here?
"Seriously?" You speak up, swiveling in the seat to face them head-on. "Who even are you guys? There's a bunch of other games in this place, and we just got here. Can't wait a few minutes?"
The guy with the finger quirk regards you as if you just appeared in his conscience. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Midoriya's friend." You declare with little forethought.
The other visitor, a boy with an undercut, laughs before covering his mouth with a fake cough. "There's no way."
Your head tilts. "What?"
"Friends? With Midoriya? Please, you're kidding, right? When are you gonna tell him it's a prank?"
"Why would I prank him?"
"Because he's quirkless!" Fingers butts in, as if it's obvious.
"And why does that matter?"
The boys stare at you as if you'd grown two heads and five eyes. They glance at each other briefly. Undercut speaks again. "Helloooo? That means Deku here has nothing. is nothing. Seriously, you're wasting your time."
You stand up, vaguely aware of Midoriya staring at you with wide eyes. Your mother's words flash in your mind, and you find yourself standing taller because of it. Midoriya needs a friend, you want to be that friend, and friends don't leave each other hanging.
"You know what a waste of my time? Talking with you." When you step forward, you ensure you're uncomfortably close to their space. You meet their eyes with fire. "Seriously, if your value system is based on quirks, and whether someone has one or not, you seriously need to rethink your life. What a bleak way to look at the world. It's kinda sad."
Fingers sputters, mind seemingly at a deadlock as if it's the first time someone talked back to him. "Y-you—that's not sad! It's just the way things are. The weakest don't have quirks, and the strongest have the best ones."
You scoff. "I guess that means you guys are bottom-feeders. weak, like you said?"
"What?!"
"Of all the things you could be doing, you found us at the very back of the arcade and bothered us. When there's a newer version of this game at the entrance," you gesture to the machine behind you, having defaulted to the main screen since neither you nor Midoriya had touched it in a while, "just to rub in Midoriya's face that he doesn't have a quirk. In a museum about heroes. Do you not realize how pathetic that is? If I were you guys, I'd be embarrassed."
Fingers, now turning a bright shade of red, trembles where he stands. You guess it's either from pure humiliation, fear, or anger. You expect it to be the latter. In fact, you expect a fist to be aiming for your face, right now, and you almost grin at the fact because you won't have to waste words and beat them up the old-fashioned way.
Before he can act, however, Undercut pulls him back, and you feel a hesitant grip around your wrist. You look back to find Midoriya, gaze anxiously bouncing between your own and the boys.
"I-it's okay…" he murmurs, ever the pacifist. "Y-you don't need to get into a fight for me."
You highly disagree, but this isn't the time, nor the place.
"Why are you even defending this guy, anyway?" Undercut interjects, his eyes darting between you and Midoriya before he notices the hold the boy has on your arm. A smirk grows on his face. "Is it because you like him?"
You huff, and behind you, Midoriya grows tense, his hold on your arm slipping. This always happens. He tries to get close to someone, and when they get teased for being in his vicinity, they back away. It's as if he's a virus, a disease, and he guesses that, in a way, being quirkless is. Isn't it, from the way the world, his classmates, and even his mother think of him? With pity, with anger, dislike, and apathy?
And now it's about to happen again. Midoriya readies himself for the denial. The rejection. He liked being around you, for as long as it lasted, and he'll keep this day locked away in his memories. He'll try to forget your dismissal, because you've stuck around the longest, and it really isn't your fault if you decide he isn't worth it anymore.
He ignores the way his heart threatens to break as you say, "Yeah, I like him. What's wrong with that?"
In the back of the arcade, all the voices and electronic beeps of the arcade machines fade to obscurity. He can't have heard that right, did he? But he looks at the boys, and, meeting their surprised gazes, realizes he isn't the only one who's stunned. And you—you just stare, confused, as if your words weren't anything short of groundbreaking.
"Is it that unbelievable?" you snort, glaring at the boys with a deadpan. "he's a person, first. A. Person. He's pretty chill once you get to know him, and I've only talked to him for a few hours."
"Damn," Undercut blurts. "You're crazy."
You shrug. "If that's how you cope with being physically incapable of seeing other people beyond their quirks, thus justifying your awful personalities, then I'm fine with crazy."
Undercut growls, pressing forward as if to rebute, but Fingers grips his shoulder and pulls him the other way. "Let's just go. Talking to idiots is getting us nowhere. Not worth our time."
"See, now you're getting it!" You cheer, still within earshot as the boys back off. Ignoring the final glares sent your way, you watch as they head to the front, likely to the newer version of Smash Pros you mentioned earlier.
You slump backwards into the arcade seat, fingers itching for another round at the game as you ask, "Do you feel like playing again?"
"H-huh? Oh, sure. Sure! But, um…" Midoriya fidgets with his hands, visibly hesitant before he eventually spits it out. and he literally spits out, "D-didyoureallymeanthatthough??? Allofthat???"
You raise a brow, trying to decode his sentence, before it finally clicks. Smiling softly, you say, "Yeah, I meant it. Anyone who gets their rocks off bullying others doesn't deserve my friendship anyway. My Ma says the people you hang out with will affect you in some way, so why not choose good company? Meaning you, by the way." You wink and get to watch as Midoriya's face explodes in red.
"B-b-but you…there are others…I-I mean, not to judge you but," the boy focuses intently on the arcade machine before you. The lights from the game reflect his downcast expression. "If people see you're with me, then they won't hang out with you, either."
You scoff. "If they're all avoiding you just because you don't have a quirk, then I don't wanna be around them anyway. Besides, you're chill, right?"
"H-huh?"
"You're not secretly some crazy weirdo, right?"
"N-no! I hope n-not, at least."
"Thought so," you decide to divulge some information, just to see Midoriya's reaction. "Besides, I've been watching you for a while, Midoriya."
Just as you thought, Midoriya becomes a blubbering blob. You're cruel, and you know it, but it's just too precious.
At this point, the boy has made an attempt to hide himself in his arms, leaning against the controls of the arcade machine. He turns to you, peeking an eye out as if to make sure you don't have more truth bombs aimed his way. "Um…"
"Not weird, I'll have you know. I was scoping out everybody. And you seemed the most…real, we'll say." You reach out your hand to Midoriya, an uncertain grin on your face. "I know I kinda just declared it officially in front of those guys, but I want to be friends. If…if that's okay? No pressure."
Midoriya's eyes widen, so much so that his pupils nearly drown the bright jade of his eyes. His gaze darts between your hand, then your face. Before you start to doubt, his hand gently wraps around yours. To your great surprise, you find his eyes glimmering with tears.
"T-that's great. I…I want to be friends. And…thank you. For talking to me, and chasing those guys away and…today. Today in general."
Your chest warms. "Of course." You glance between him and the previously forgotten arcade game. "Are you up for playing again?"
Midoriya's hand slowly leaves yours, still reeling at the fact that things did indeed happen. Favorably, in fact. And it couldn't have gone better. It's that occupation of his mind that ends up in him losing again and again, and though he's close the third time, you ultimately swipe the victory. He can't be mad, because every win has you smiling wide. Your arms raise in a whoop of triumph, and it's incredible. You're incredible.
"Why, thank you! Your flattery will not win you any favors, though, Midoriya," you wink, and the boy balks at the fact that he said that aloud.
As you turn back to the character screen, debating whether you should stick with your newly declared 'main' or make the switch, Midoriya exhales an inaudible sigh. You mistook his compliment for your past victories, and while they are, that was not his focus.
"W-wait, before we start another round," he butts in, growing hot under the full weight of your attention, "time check?"
"Oh, yeah." You pull out your phone, wince at the clock, and quickly glance about at the arcade empty of your classmates. "We've got…four minutes before meetup?"
"Four minutes?!" Midoriya jumps out of his seat. "We're gonna be late! So late!"
"Hey, hey, hey, no need to panic," you follow him, and he watches as your look of worry shifts into something more…mischievous. He doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing that he's already familiar with that face. "We can run."
"B-but this is a museum?"
"Did you see any 'no running' signs anywhere?"
"Well, no, but—"
You grab onto the boy's hand before he can form a rebuttal, effectively shutting down his argument as his mind reverts to its primal state and laser focuses on the fact that once again, a girl is holding his hand.
He's pulled into a sprint before he can think about it further.
As you race through the museum, skipping steps and dodging people as you try to beat time itself, the rushing air is filled with your giddy laughter. Soon enough, he's joining in, because this is crazy. You either don't notice or don't care about the glances and double takes that people make at both of you as you run through the halls, and because you don't seem to mind, he doesn't either.
If someone had told him today—the day of the field trip he was dreading for weeks—would be when his life would change, he would've politely asked if he was being pranked.
But here he is. You glance back as he trips over a step, but the momentum and your upright stance keep him from eating dirt—or, well, nicely polished museum tile.
"You okay?" You pause to assess him.
"Y-yes! Let's keep going!" He's surprised he's the one urging the delinquency, but you grin at the prospect.
You run until your lungs have shriveled from the lack of air, only stopping when you recognize your classmates gathered in a corner of the lobby. You and Midoriya slide into their ranks just as your teacher begins roll-call, and you pump your fist in victory before holding it out to Midoriya.
"For a job well done," you grin at his questioning stare, his face flushing before he connects with your outstretched hand. In that moment, you both realize that your other hands are still being held, Midoriya going ramrod straight at it.
Yeah, this guy is either allergic to human touch or a complete stranger to the concept. So he doesn't explode on the spot, you slowly let your hand relax from the boy's stiff grip, focus darting to the teacher as he calls your name. In your peripheral, Midoriya glances at you, long enough for it to be considered awkward, before he jumps at his own name being called.
Once your teacher has confirmed that everyone is present, your class shuffles into the bus that has been awaiting your return. You get separated from Midoriya in the rushing mass of students eager to claim their bus seats. The green-haired boy manages to get on before you, and he awkwardly shambles into a seat, gaze vehemently focused on the window because if he's sitting by someone who's going to taunt him the entire time, he might as well have a decent view as a distraction.
That is, until you plop down right next to him.
"This seat taken?"
"Uh…" he gapes like a fish before regaining his bearings. His shoulders relax. "N-no, that's fine."
You say nothing more as the bus continues to fill up, and you catch sight of the one guy you'd luckily managed to avoid the entire trip. Bakugou Katsuki. He saunters through the aisle, growling insults at any rowdy kids who get too close to him. His crimson eyes scan the rows for any empty seats until his gaze lands on you.
No, not you, you realize as Midoriya makes a small noise in his throat. Bakugou's eyes narrow, lips forming a sneer before you casually lean forward in the seat, relaxing your arms on the cushion in front of you. It effectively cuts off the blond-haired boy's focus, as he snaps to you instead. A brow raises, as if questioning your audacity, but you meet it unwaveringly. You know who he is. You know how he torments Midoriya, and you know the boys who help him do it.
You're not going to stand for that. Not anymore.
It is that conviction that Bakugou seems to sense, that has him aiming a terrible grin your way. You smile back, though it's nothing like the ones you give Midoriya. His expression darkens immediately, and it couldn't be a clearer sign that you're probably on this guy's hit list. Bakugou looks between you and Midoriya one more time before brushing past you rudely as he aims for a seat in the back.
You huff, rolling your eyes as you lean back in your seat.
Midoriya's mouth opens and closes in your peripheral vision.
"I don't like how he treats you," you answer the unspoken question. "What a dirtbag."
"K-kacchan's just…that's just how he is."
You give the boy a raised eyebrow. "You deserve better."
Midoriya seems to disagree on instinct, his lips wobbling before he seems to realize…something. Whatever it is, it flickers in his eyes. His chin drops, curling into himself as he shakily admits, "…Maybe."
You only let the uncomfortable silence reign for a few moments before you change the topic. "Today was fun. Thanks for letting me hang out with you, Midoriya."
The boy blinks twice, registering your words, before his cheeks flush. "U-um, no problem! But really, it was you that—"
"Take a compliment!" You bump his shoulder with your own. He squeaks, literally, and you barely hold back your laughter for fear of embarrassing him.
The bus begins moving once the teacher has confirmed everyone has grabbed their seats, and for a few minutes, you don't feel the urge to break the comfortable silence. Midoriya pulls out his notebook, murmuring things under his breath as he jots notes down. With a sidelong glance, you catch a glimpse of drawings, surrounded by brief paragraphs. They look like heroes. You aren't surprised, considering the way his eyes sparkled at every piece of hero artefact you'd stopped at.
It makes you wonder.
"Midoriya," you whisper, so soft you're nearly drowned out by the cacophony of overlapping conversations. He somehow hears you anyway, snapping his notebook shut with the seriousness of a soldier awaiting orders from their commander.
You're more relaxed than when you first sat down beside him, leaning back as if prepped to close your eyes for a while. "I meant to ask this earlier, but are you trying to be a hero?"
He freezes at the question, mind running at the very opposite speed of yours. He could go about this in two different ways. Lying, obviously, that way you'd be none the wiser about his dreams. He'd already been told being a hero was impossible for him without a quirk. to hear it again, to be told it was unattainable, by you—someone whose presence he'd grown to enjoy over the course of a few hours—
He didn't need to blow another hole through the sinking ship.
He could also tell the truth. It would come out eventually, after all. And he didn't want your burgeoning friendship to be built on lies, even if he wasn't sure what would come of it. He watches you watch him, eyes blinking slowly as you await his answer and—goodness, how could he bother lying?
"…I do."
He balks at the smile that lifts your face, and you do your best to face forward, even as you begin to lose your battle against sleep.
"Awesome. You're…gonna do great as one."
It's all you say. Midoriya regards you with wide eyes, and he's sharply aware of his heart beating away in his chest. The blood rushes through his ears, needing more of it to comprehend the fact that you didn't lambast him. You accepted his declaration as if it were a certainty that he could. The boy brushes away the water that quickly forms at his lashline, even as a lopsided smile makes its way onto his face. It's the type of expression Kacchan would call him out immediately for, the type that would have him blown to bits, but he can't find himself to care.
You believe in him.
He didn't know until then that all he needed was one person to say it. that he could be a hero.
Unbeknownst to your sleeping figure, Midoriya takes note of every part of you, memorizing the features of the first person to believe in him. To think that he'd woken up dreading this day, only to end it with a friend.
A friend.
The boy has to fight against more tears that threaten to blur his vision.
"Thank you," he whispers, fully knowing you can't hear. He'll say it again when you wake up. Thank you.
And as Midoriya returns to scribbling in his notebook, he starts on a new page. He puts your name in the header and writes the things he doesn't yet dare to say aloud.
He realizes then and there that not all heroes wear colorful suits, don cool tech, and flex flashy quirks.
Hiya! If its not too much trouble, could we have a second time around fic where y/n is sick with a high fever but still goes out running errands ignoring it, bc shes ill she gets easily taken by a villain and bakugo doesnt realize anythings wrong until he gets home late and were not home and the teenage kids have no idea where we are? I love some overprotective, pissed off, concerned bakugo vibes🤭💕 Thank you! 💕
⋆ PAIRING: dad!/divorced!/prohero!bakugou x mom!/divorced! /teacher!reader
⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: slight angst; marriage; kids; fluff; abduction
⋆ WORD COUNT: 1.1K
A/N: you guys love having y/n be in these situations so bakugou can lose his mind a little LOL but ofc i love it too otherwise i wouldn’t continue writing these lol
NOTE: if you'd like to be tagged in these mini/extra fics, please join the taglist here
Second Time Around Masterlist
Bakugou trudged inside his house, exhausted like he always was following a patrol. The house was uncharacteristically quiet, but it didn’t surprise Bakugou. He was already aware that Suki and Katsuo had plans after school, Suki working on her school’s culture festival and Katsuo was staying longer for his support course to prepare for U.A.’s annual sports festival.
But what was unusual was the fact that you didn’t greet him immediately at the door like you always did.
“Y/N?” Bakugou called out, kicking his boots off and tossing his work bag to the side. You had been fighting a cold for the past few days, which was what led Bakugou to go upstairs, assuming you were curled up in bed with fifty used tissues littered around you.
But to his dismay, you weren’t there; you weren’t in the house at all.
When Bakugou called your phone, it went straight to voicemail. Weird… He then heard the front door open and when he assumed it was you, he made eye contact with Katsuo.
“Hey, Dad,” Katsuo greeted, closing the door behind him as he tossed his school bag onto the couch.
“D’you know where Mom went?” Bakugou asked, trying not to act like a ‘mother hen,’ which was what you always called him when he was acting irrationally overprotective.
“Well she said she had some errands to run after dropping Suki and I to school,” Katsuo said, undoing the knot in his red school tie. “Stuff like grocery shopping and going to the stationary store… but that was hours ago. She should be home, is she not?”
Bakugou went downstairs and immediately went into the kitchen, opening the fridge. It was relatively empty… meaning you never made it back home after going to the store. That was when the panic really set in for Bakugou as he pulled his phone out and called your number again. Voicemail.
He then called Suki who picked up right away. “Hey, Dad! I’m on my way home now.”
“Did Mom tell you she was gonna pick you up from school?” Bakugou asked. Due to being sick, you had stayed home the past few days but you still picked up and dropped the kids off to and from school.
“Yeah, I called her a little bit ago but she didn’t answer. I mean she is sick so I figured she didn’t show up ‘cause of that but I got a ride,” Suki said.
Bakugou stayed silent for a moment as his heart rate increased. “Dad?” Suki called out, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“I’ll call you back,” he said, his tone rushed as he hung up.
“Dad, what’s going on?” Katsuo asked in concern as he carefully watched his father put his boots back on. His eyes widened when Bakugou grabbed his gauntlets. “Where’s Mom?”
“I don’t know but something’s wrong,” Bakugou said quickly. “Wait here. I’m gonna find her.”
“Wait! Let me help!” Katsuo exclaimed, his brows furrowing as a similar panic set in for him as well.
“No, stay here. Wait for Suki to come home,” Bakugou said sternly, gripping the door knob so tightly it nearly snapped off. He sighed, knowing he had to reassure his son. “I’m gonna find her, don’t worry, son.”
When you fluttered your eyes open, everything was blurry. The pounding sensation you’d been feeling for the past few days continued and you groaned when you sat up.
“Oh, you’re awake!” An unfamiliar voice exclaimed. When your vision finally cleared you looked up and saw a pro hero you vaguely recognized from TV staring down at you.
“Where am I?” You said, your voice slightly hoarse. Looking around, there was a crowd of people and an ambulance that had just arrived.
“Ma’am, you were abducted by a villain but he’s been captured,” the hero said, putting a hand to your shoulder. “We’re going to take you to a hospital, alright? You don’t have any injuries but you don’t look well.”
The throbbing sensation in your head returned and you groaned again, holding a hand to your forehead. You looked down, recognizing the black jacket that had been laid over you and that was when you heard a very familiar, bellowing voice yelling.
“Is… Is that my husband?” You asked, slowly getting up as you looked around.
The hero sighed and nodded his head. “Some civilians saw you get abducted in the grocery store parking lot and I arrived on scene first. The villain fled when I showed up but then Dynamight came out of nowhere and he’s been cussing the villain out for the past twenty minutes…”
You slowly processed what the hero said before bursting out into laughter. As scary as the situation was, knowing that your husband not only managed to capture the villain but had been berating the villain for so long almost made you feel bad for him. Your laughing caused you to break into a coughing fit.
“Y/N!” Bakugou yelled out and he didn’t waste any time to find you.
You were still coughing, covering your mouth. Bakugou held you by your shoulders, his crimson eyes frantically searching your face for any sign of injury. “Are you okay?” He asked.
You nodded and then his expression hardened. “Why the hell would you go shopping like this? You’re too fuckin’ sick to be goin’ out. Y’know how fuckin’ scared I was?” He angrily asked.Despite the fact that he was quite literally scolding you, you couldn’t hold back your lips from upturning. Even while angry he was being so caring, in his own way.
“The hell you smilin’ for?” Bakugou grumbled and then he sighed. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. “Fuck, I’m so glad you’re okay…”
When you opened your mouth to say something, more coughs erupted instead and you gently pushed him away. “I don’t want– you to get sick–” You sputtered in between your coughs.
Bakugou scowled. “To hell with that.”
He bent over and scooped you into his arms, causing you to let out a yelp from the sudden movement as you gripped his arms for stability. Your face heated up more than it already was from your cold. “What’re you doing?!”
A news team had shown up to the scene and they were eagerly videotaping and snapping pictures of the number one hero carrying his wife in his arms.
“I’m bringin’ you to a hospital,” Bakugou said, ignoring the crowd and walking in the direction of the closest hospital.
“You don’t have to carry me,” you said, slightly embarrassed and hiding your face in his chest from the prying eyes and cameras. “Put me down!”
“Nah, baby,” Bakugou responded, looking down at you. “I’m not lettin’ you outta my sight again.”
The video starts with you already moaning. Your back is arched off the mattress underneath you. You were in utter heaven, as usual when it came to Izuku's fingers playing around with your clit. He had a way of untangled and unwinding you with his fingers alone. There was some sort of art that he could do with them that always left you gasping and shaking.
You loved it.
He was the artist and you were his fine art.
A chuckle is heard off camera as the camera is panned over your body as you come on his fingers. "Oh what a beautiful sight." A groan left him. "I can't wait to watch this tomorrow."
A laugh stumbled out of your lips as you finally relaxed, your body becoming slack on the sheets. Your eyes were half lidded as you looked up at him, lust and want in your gaze. It was expected with the man who had been married to for 2 years.
You moved your hands to cup your breasts for him. Your fingers moved to twist and move your nipples, pulling just enough to sting. Just enough to make your pussy squeeze his fingers as he pulled them out of you. "It's not fair you leave me while you go on a mission, and you get to still have me when I don't have you."
The focus switched to front view as Izuku's eyes aren't on the camera but on you out of frame. Forrest eyes are swallowed by pupils that were enraptured by you. Izuku had always been enraptured by you. He was incapable of even faking otherwise. His lips were wet with a mixture of saliva and your slick.
A deep hum came out of his throat. "Well we both know that isn't true, baby."
"And how isn't it true?" You asked.
"I try cum enough to leave enough still inside you while I'm gone." He said as the camera switched again focusing down on the lower part of your body. His large scarred hands sat on your abdomen, his thumb brushing over where your womb was underneath. Your body shivered at the implications.
The video then cuts to being set not even 5 feet away from the bed, not that the distance mattered. You were loud enough that it felt like the phone was right next to the both of you.
The camera was positioned so that it captured the broad expanse of his freckled back. He was so gloriously muscular and strong. He was the Number One hero and it showed with how his hips thrusted into you. He wasn't stopping for anything. The constant slap of his palvis against your skin was a consistent rhythm in the audio.
Your feet peaked over his shoulders as he held thighs, keeping your legs as his grip to pound into you. Your legs kept twitching as he bottomed out inside you again, and again, and again. You couldn't breathe deeply because it felt like he was right in your stomach, pounding against your lungs.
His thick cock was always such a delicious feeling inside you. You often didn't even need him to move to feel at peace, to feel whole. And yet here you were, so greedy for more.
You didn't mind being greedy. Your husband loved you greedy.
"OH FUCK! DEEPER, IZU!" You cried out higher pitched than normal.
He let out a huff. "Deeper?" He asked lowly, sweat beading down his neck. His green curl as a darker shade due to the sweat in his hair. He moved to cage your body underneath him, his hands resting at eitherside of your head. With one large hand and a shift he moved to reallign himself before slamming back in.
You arched up into him as you screamed to the heavens. "YES!" You moaned deeply. Your thighs were nearly touching your chest as he had you folded in half.
Izuku groaned as he threw his head back for a moment before moving his hips again. "I love fucking you. Good Lord, this pussy always holds me so good. You trying to suck me dry, aren't you?" He asked as your arms wrapped around his neck.
"Yes! Yes, I do. I want you to cum inside me. I want your baby." You pleaded.
A deep animal like sound left Izuku as a flash of lightning rippled across his back. The bed creaked but held up (custom made for such scenerios). He shifted and the video caught him over you, his heavy balls slapping against your rim.
"I'm gonna come." Izuku warned you as your fingers gripped his shoulders, digging into his skin leaving marks.
"Inside." You pleaded as you moved a hand into his curls.
With a groan turned whine Izuku came. His groans unhindered as he closed his eyes and burried his head in the crook of your neck as you massaged his scalp. You were humming in content continuously, your legs now wrapped around his waist to keep him planted there.
"You're coming so much." You praised as you felt each and every squirt inside of you. You hummed as you let him twitch and stay planted deep and fully sheathed inside you. It was the moments like this where you felt most close to him, most like you were one.
Izuku chuckled. "How could I not when your cunt massages me like it was made for me." He said lowly. He kisses your lips, before diving his tongue inside your mouth.
Your body relaxes as you unravel around, him allowing him freedom to move now. His arms move to wrap around you for a moment, hugging you for a moment. He moves back, finally pulling out and getting out of the way of the camera. He grabs the phone and focuses it down between your spread legs.
Your clit twitches at the attention as your swollen pussy enters frame. A thick white trickle has already spilled out of you, moving down to your puckered room. You giggle moving a hand to rest over your mound. A large pulse of frothy white cum spills out of you.
Izuku groans deeply. "Lord have mercy. I'm keeping this one for sure."
It's times like this you understand those that wish for a rich husband, white picket fence and four cosy walls.
Tucked away, only a short walk from the city centre, is what will soon be known as your new home. A futuristic, sky-line apartment all yours and yours only. This has to be some kind of dream, some cruel trick. Your wide eyes twinkle in tandem with shards of light that bounce from the overhead chandelier, spraying the toes of your sneakers in crystal drips.
"I'm sorry, but I am quite serious, Miss (L/N). This is the best we can offer for you at this time." The agent addresses you with a strained smile and you have to look down just to see it stretch across his fur grazed cheeks. Like this isn't the nicest apartment you've ever stepped foot in. White walls, sparkling parquet flooring and various rows of floor to ceiling windows that look out onto the heart of the city. It's freshly cleaned, you can tell by the way the bleach wafts through your nose and you fight the urge to take a deep inhale. Even the couch is spotless, not a crumb in sight, and you really hope this place comes fully furnished. Fully furnished, like you'd be able to avoid this place with the small amount of money you have saved up, let alone the furnishing that comes with.
"How much is the rent?" You turn sharply, sucked back to the real world for a bitter moment.
"The agency will cover that." He waves you off with a paw and you feel stupid for asking such a question, "It's important for someone of your position to be stationed within the city centre," He explains, nasally voice splitting in places, "Dynamight needs you close in case of emergency, and the commute to work each morning will be much easier with the Agency only down the street." He trails off, eyeing the shining windows like this whole place is below him.
"I understand." You nod to the wall, but you don't. Not really. "Must be hard to work for someone as stuck up as Dynamight, huh?" You turn to him with a grin, expecting some kind of shared banter in the mockery of the pro-hero, but his snout sours.
"I will be back next week to ensure you're all settled in. Your key card is in the bedside drawer, you will need it to enter the building tomorrow so don't forget it. Everything here is yours, though we do expect it will be kept in good condition over the course of your stay." He then bids you good day with a slight bounce just to meet the door handle, slamming it behind him with a surprising amount of force for someone so small.
So Dynamight's workers don't seem to hate him. You'd have to keep that opinion of yours tightly locked away from now on.
Trailing your new apartment, you swing the keys around your ring finger —cosplaying that of a wealthy home owner — and turn to gaze from the room length windows. It's a little cloudy, which takes away from the ambiance, but who are you to complain right now? New job, new place. Despite the tragedy of your old home being a pile of rubble on the streets, things were looking up.
At least that's what you try to tell yourself.
You'd lying if you didn't admit how tight your jaw has been since you stepped foot out of the sleek limo he'd sent for you. So some big shot hero blasts your neighbourhood to smithereens, and the agency tries to save face by employing you? As his publicist, no less.
You flop down on the irritatingly comfortable couch, the cushions dipping under your weight. It's now your job to appeal for the one man who uprooted your life, to make him out to be some shiny, polished hero and a part of you dies a little inside each time you have to admit this to yourself. That you can't let personal vendettas get in the way of work, that this is all you've ever wanted and more. You flick on the TV just to see the new villain attack going on across the city. It put a halt on some of the trains on the way here, so you were late for your showing. Black smoke blooms from empty buildings, something twists in your gut. The reporter on the screen shakes a little as she brings the mic to her mouth, forcing a pearly smile despite the chaos that ensues behind her. You grimace, is this the sort of life you were going to lead before all this? Hero journalism, front lines to the destruction with a camera shoved down your throat.
You mute it, allowing the silence to fill the room.
This didn't have to be so bad. You're sure someone out there would die for an opportunity like this, and that many would be able to look on the bright side. It's a department you struggle in, but you're working on it. Hero agencies are no place for a pessimist.
A hot shower and freshly washed hair— ready for an early wake up tomorrow — later and you find yourself curled against the couch once more. Definitely too comfortable. You squeeze the water from the ends of your hair into the complimentary towels they'd furnished this place with, as well a bathrobe engraved with the initials of Dynamight's agency that's wrapped tightly around your waist.
Something on the screen catches your eye and you fumble for the volume button. You almost sink into the floor when the bright yellow headline flashes across the screen 'DYNAMIGHT's NEW PUBLICIST: YN LN.'
Summary: When an unofficial on and off again relationship between Izuku and reader comes to an end, Katsuki steps in to show reader her worth.
Pairing: Izuku x Reader x Katsuki
-
His hands were on your hips. His fingers easing into your skin, pulling and grasping all he could get. His face was in your neck. His voice gasping out little moans, his lips placing hot kisses over your skin, his teeth ever so gracefully grazing your ear in a way that made you shiver and groan.
Your hands were on his back. Your fingernails digging into his back and easing up to his shoulder where you grabbed onto him for support, the feeling of your nails on his skin only further cause for him to drive himself into you quicker. Quicker, and needier. Your legs were around him. Your legs were tightly wrapped around his waist, legs hooked together pulling him in closer with every pound in and out.
You both were inches from each other, fornicating in such a forbidden way, a way Izuku swore he would never touch you. You both could’ve told each other no, the wine in your system wasn’t that strong. You were both practically sober, and there would be no one to blame but yourselves in the following morning. Even as you clenched around him, even as he felt himself cum into the condom, he was trying to justify his actions. It’s just one night. Just one night. One night you both tended to repeat on different nights.
‘It’s just one night,’ he told himself as he pulled out of you and walked over to the bathroom attached to your bedroom. 'It’s just one night, it doesn’t mean anything,’ he told himself as he pulled the condom wrapper off of himself. 'It’s just one night, it doesn’t mean anything, she’s your best friend,’ he told himself as he turned the water on and grabbed a washcloth to clean himself up.
They were all justifications. Justifications to every thought he had that gravitated towards you. Justifications to every moment he wanted you to be his. Justifications for everything he was putting you through. Justifications for every push and excuse he gave to keep you at arms’ lengths away.
You laid on your bed, thoughts of a different manner running wild through your head. 'It feels different this time,’ you told yourself as you pushed yourself up against your headboard. 'It feels different this time, he’s not going to push me away this time,’ you tell yourself as you pull your sheets tight against your naked chest. 'It feels different this time, he’s not going to push me away this time, he’s gonna make it official, he’s gonna make us official,’ you tell yourself as you reach for the water bottle on the table beside your bed to rehydrate yourself.
Izuku walked back into your bedroom, pants on his body, tying his belt around his waist as he looked around for his shirt. He was positive he had left it strewn on the floor by the left side of your bed. You tried not to let a frown slide on your face, you left a smile present, an unwavering smile. Izuku hated himself as he saw you sitting there staring at him. You smiled like your father, Toshinori, a smile so full of hope. Full of hope in him, full of hope in him and you.
“Are you leaving?”
'I want to stay.’
“I, um, yeah… I have early patrol tomorrow. You know how it is.”
“Yeah! Stay safe, text me when you get home.”
'I want to stay. I want to cuddle you. I want to caress you as you fall asleep. Care for you like a lady should be.’ They were the words he wanted to say. The words that got stuck in his throat as he watched you, happy and unwavering, happy and dignified, happy and hopeful.
“I will.”
Those are the words that actually come out of Izuku’s lips, but they’re just another lie. He places a kiss against your forehead, a sweet and bitter goodbye. 'I shouldn’t see you anymore, not after tonight’, it is a bitter reality he thinks he needs to follow. He had let himself have too much freedom with you. He slips his t-shirt on and then proceeds to go to the front of your apartment to find his phone and jacket. There are missed texts on his screen, missed texts from the girl he gave no thought to during his moment of ecstasy with you.
'She’s a civilian, she means nothing to me,’ he thinks to himself as he swipes the text off the screen, yet it doesn’t stop the guilty nagging feeling in his chest. 'Just a distraction, a failed distraction from [Y/N]’, more words he tells himself as he grabs his keys off of your coffee table. 'She’ll hate me when she finds out. She’ll never want to talk to me again,’ more words he tells himself as he opened your apartment door and walks out, locking the door behind himself. 'It’s perfect. She’ll be far and safe from me,’ more words he tells himself as he pulls his jacket tight around his head, hoping not to be seen exiting his mentor’s daughter’s apartment at two in the morning. Hoping not to be seen leaving your house, looking like sex the day before he plans to officially announce the civilian girl, Haruka, as his girlfriend to the public.
'It’s safer this way,’ he thinks to himself. It’ll push you away from him. It’ll keep you safer. It’s just like in high school, when he rejected you. It took weeks of coaxing from your father to get you to talk to Izuku again. He didn’t want you to have a target on your back. He vowed to himself never to put you in harm’s way, for the sake of you and his mentor. There would be no coaxing from your father this time, it wasn’t high school, it was adult life. You would surely hate him, no forgiveness on the table.
-
When you wake up the next day the following night has not left your head. You still think of the way Izuku touched you, the way he grabbed and kissed you. As you shower and got ready for the day, as you bathed yourself and looked in the mirror, every mark he left behind and the memory of how he gave them to you ran wild.
Izuku was in your mind all day. You think of Izuku from the walk out of your apartment to the subway. You think of him from the subway ride to your office at Shield Technological Enterprises. You think of him every time you check your phone that morning, hoping to see a text despite him not texting you that night. You think of him in your meeting with your boss, Melissa Shield, thankful that it was a group meeting, or else you might not have made it out without being called out for being else where mentally.
At lunch, your mind derives elsewhere, to a place of more substance, food. You were quick to pack up your work bag full of designs and a few pieces of tester equipment before you grabbed your phone and checked for a text from him once again. 'He’ll text soon,’ you kept telling yourself. He had to be thinking of you the way you were thinking of him. While you were somewhat privately on and off again without ever really saying you were in a relationship, you don’t just sleep with someone, tell them you love them, and ghost them. You had a meeting with him for his new costume design anyway, he would have to face you whether he wanted to or not.
You slid your phone in your pocket and made your way down to the subway station. You had an appointment with Izuku regarding a new wrist brace, after that, you had an appointment with Uravity regarding a new costume that wasn’t so skin tight. You were hoping to slip lunch in between your appointments. You knew your father was in the city today, maybe he could join you.
You walked into Izuku’s hero agency and made your way into the elevator to go up to his office. You could feel your chest bubble with nerves. He was going to give you a chance, a man doesn’t just sleep with a girl and say he loves her for nothing. A man doesn’t just sleep with his best friend only to throw her away. Deku wouldn’t do that. He had more respect for you.
“Wait, hold the door!”
You quickly tossed your arm out to activate the new heat sensory motion activators to make the doors stay open, it was a product created by you, it looked like they were working well. You didn’t create or design products that weren’t for hero costumes often, but you hated the old elevator sensors. A woman stepped into the elevator, panting a bit as she made it in and hit the button to close the doors. She hadn’t hit a button beside the one you already pressed, she must be going up to the same floor as you.
“Those sensors are so neat. They work so much better than the one you usually see.”
“Thanks, I made them.”
Pride swelled in your chest as the elevator went up. It was always a burst of pride whenever someone complimented your designs. You eyed the woman slightly. She didn’t look like a hero, and you were positive she didn’t work in the agency. With Izuku as your best friend, you came here often, you also kept a file of every hero in the city so you could have a reference to their quirks and costumes.
The door opened and the woman stepped out, you soon following behind her. You supposed it was your curiosity, but you wanted to know who she was. Maybe she was from another support agency, you didn’t like people stealing your clients. She kept walking until she reached Izuku’s office. You hoped to god she wasn’t from another support agency, you would not be letting her poach Izuku. Momentarily, you worried you had gotten your meeting time mixed up, but you were positive you had the right time.
The woman patted down her clothes and checked herself in the reflection of a window before walking into the office. That was rude and unprofessional. You should always knock, especially if you don’t have a scheduled meeting. You follow behind her into the office and Izuku looks up in surprise as he stands up. The woman makes her way around his desk and he hugs her before she follows it with a kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a lip kiss. You couldn’t deny they were romantically involved and it hurt. It hurt so bad. You didn’t want to believe it.
“What are you doing here? You were supposed to come at one.”
She was supposed to come at one. An hour after you would be meeting with him. Missing you entirely, like two ships in the night. Your heart stung, why would he do this? It wasn’t like you were together, not officially, but it hurt. He didn’t just use you, he used you to cheat on someone.
“Izuku?”
“[Y/N]? I- shoot. Haruka, can you step out for a minute, I have an important meeting with this woman.”
This woman.
He wouldn't even use your name. Has she any idea who you were? That you even exist? Were you not supposed to be best friends?
“Of course!”
She chirps her words out at him and kisses him again before spinning in her heels and walking out of the room. Each passing encounter and each shared touch just put a new bullet in your heart. You were just some woman, he didn’t even call you his best friend.
“We’re dating, me and her.”
“Since when?”
“A month, she ran into me when her abusive ex was following her. Couldn’t do anything without proof so I took her out for coffee, and it just escalated.”
You looked up at the ceiling, it was better than looking at him. If you looked at him you would cry, and you really needed to not cry. Not when she was just outside his office, not when you’d have to pass her on your way out.
“And that wasn’t something you could’ve told me before last night?”
“[Y/N], I’m sorry, but you knew before hand that we can’t be together.”
“No! Don’t try pulling that shit. We could be together if you wanted to, you’re just a coward. You won’t give us a chance because you’re scared it’ll look bad that I’m your mentors daughter.”
You look at him as your eyes tear up and point your finger at him. Screw the woman outside, screw what she thought of your tears. She deserved to see them, deserved to know what Izuku did to her, what a supposed hero he was.
“We can’t be together because it’ll put an immediate target on your back! You’re quirkless and defenseless, it’ll be so easy to kill you.”
“Fuck you! We both know that there’s already a target on my back for being a Yagi, for working for the most prominent support agency. I deliver weapons to you, to Katsuki, to Hawks, the best of the best. You’re just scared people will look further into your relationship with my dad.”
“And what if they did? You’ve always been under a microscope, it would be even bigger if we dated.”
You wiped your tears as a few of them slid down your face. You weren’t going to let him see you cry. You weren’t going to let him see how hurt you were.
“After everything we’ve been through, this is how you’ve repaid me? Denied me and betrayed me. I’ve always loved you Izuku, but you always take that for granted.”
You quickly unzipped your work bag and dug around for the 'Midoriya’ work file you knew you had in there. It contained his costume and the blueprints on his new equipment. You threw it on his desk, not caring if any of the papers fell out and flew around.
“There’s your files, I wasn’t sure if you’d like the design, we both know how you like to look at other things when you’ve already got something else in mind. When your ready, contact us with your answer, you know my assistant’s number.”
You stormed out of Izuku’s office, slamming the door behind you. The woman, his girlfriend, eyed you casually, unsure if he was upset and whether or not she should come back later. You tried to compose yourself and gave her a gracious smile as you stuck out your hand.
“I’m [Y/N]. [Y/N] Yagi, Izuku’s bestfriend.”
“Oh, it’s nice to meet you! Izuku talks about you, a lot. I’m Haruka.”
"So your Izukus girlfriend? How about you and me grab lunch, I'm sure we'll have a lot to talk about."
-
Izuku sat on a wooden barstool as he waited for the bartender to get him a shot. It was moments like these that he liked his rising fame, there were at least a dozen other citizens waiting for their own liquor, but the bartender would bump him up on the priority list due to his rising status. It wasn’t like Izuku specifically asked for this to happen, he would never take advantage of his name like that, it just so happened that two out of every three times, a grateful citizen would appreciate his heroism, or they would like to leave a good impression so he would use his newfound fame to advance their business.
Heroes also tended to tip well.
Izuku kept checking his phone for anything and everything. He wanted to see a text from you, but then he had to remind himself that he didn’t. He did this whole thing to push you away. He hurt you to push you away. He’d sent you several apology texts, hoping to get you to understand he did it for your safety, but you had ignored them, and rightly so.
He supposed it didn’t really seem like he cared for you and your safety, not when he began dating some other girl, and a girl with no experience dating a hero. He claimed to want to protect you by not dating you, yet here he was willing to date some other girl and willing to risk some other girl’s life. Not that, that tiny tidbit mattered, she had broken up with him hours after he had that argument with you in his office. It seemed you had told her about him cheating, so she sent the break up text.
It was the first time Izuku had been broken up with by text, it was the first time he had been broken up with at all in fact, but he knew he deserved it. He toyed with both you and her. He had callously endangered her life when he was trying to protect yours, and he cheated. He knew how you felt about him, every one did, and everyone constantly said that one day he’d buckle down and settle with you. He knew he was toying with your feelings, and while hurting you so roughly was unintentional, he shouldn’t have.
It was so hard to stay away from you when he felt the exact same way for you as you did him. He truly was scared of hurting you, and he’d just wrecked any chance he’d ever have with you. But that was what he was trying to do in the first place, wasn’t it?
Katsuki Bakugo roughly pushed his way through the people in the bar and slammed his shot glass down on the bar next to Izuku. He supposed he should’ve been lighter, more careful as to not break the glass, but he was already feeling buzzed. He was buzzed and happy, he had no early patrol tomorrow and he just advanced in the hero ranks, not to mention he came here with a beautiful woman. He had great cause for celebration.
“Another shot and a daiquiri moonrise.”
The bartender warily eyed him before filling the glass. Most people were wary of Katsuki, his entire persona screamed destruction. While he was a hero, bartenders were always worried he’d be the one to get into a bar fight with another hero. Ultimately, the tip would always be far to great to turn down service to a hero like Katsuki.
Katsuki took the glass, raised it to his lips, and slammed it back down on the counter before he recognized the green mop head beside him and realized it was Izuku next to him. A scowl crossed Katsuki’s face as his eyes went over to you, who sat across the bar. You, who invited Katsuki out in the first place, demanding he needed to get out somewhere besides patrol and the gym. You, who sat with Izuku’s now ex-girlfriend, a fling if you would. You, who spent a majority of the night tipsily chatting and bagging on Izuku, before you became to buzzed to care about him.
“Dumb-Deku. You’re a dumbass, you know that don’t you?”
“Kacchan, I’m not in the mood tonight.”
“And... You think [Y/N] was in the right mood when you fucked and discarded her?”
Izuku’s eyes went over to where you were sat across the bar. Izuku had seen you come in, followed by Katsuki, and his ex. He could just imagine the media tomorrow: Rising Hero Deku’s Bestfriend Spotted Drinking With Rival And Ex. To see you so cozy and friendly with her stung, but he deserved that one. You looked happy laughing with his ex, he was glad to see you had some kind of joy and happiness amongst the hurt he served you.
“I know, I hurt her okay? I know that. I know I hurt her, and that hurts. She’s not answering my texts, and I know she hates my guts and it hurts.”
“Good.”
“You think if I went over there she’d listen to me apologize?”
Katsuki rolled his eyes at his old friend and rival. He wasn’t going to sympathize or feel remorse for him. He knew what he was doing, he knew how he was toying with you, he’d been doing it to you ever since your days at UA. If Izuku never meant to hurt you then he wouldn’t have strung you along in highschool with the false hope that maybe 'one day’ you could really be together. It started with a rejected confession with the promise of friends forever, but the glances, the lingering touches, and shitty flirting strung you along. Deku couldn’t handle the jealousy of seeing you with other guys, but he wouldn’t man up and date you himself. Katsuki hated Izuku for stringing you along even in your prime years, and he hated everyone else for feeding into your crush on him by saying one-day he’d want to make it official.
It would have been better if they set in the reality. Deku would never buckle down, not being the coward he always was. 'You would've been better off years ago', Katsuki thought, better off if you had been cut off clean and moved on. Moved on to someone better, who would've appreciated you and saw you past your weaknesses. Someone strong, who would've voted to actually protect you in public, rather than secretly string you along in the shadows.
“No, you fucked up.”
“Right.”
“You’ve been hurting her with false hope since fucking highschool. But me? I’m taking this drink over to her because she invited me here and she trusts me. We’ll leave together too because I’ve always given it to her straight. And you? You’re going to be here, pathetic and alone because you’ve always taken her for granted and led her on.”
"Kacc-"
"Don't fucking call me that, now if you'll excuse me, I have better things to attend to. And hey, maybe I'll even fuck her tonight but at least I won't ghost her in the morning or pull out a secret girlfriend."
Katsuki took the daiquiri with him to the table you had across the bar. He slid down into the seat next to you and placed the cup in front of you. You looked over at Katsuki with a smile, completely oblivious to his conversation with your now-former friend.
“Than-”
You never got the chance to take a sip, before you even had the chance to thank him he cupped your cheeks. With his warm palms holding your face up to his, he leaned in really quick and placed his lips upon yours. They were soft yet rough at the same time, you had never imagined ever sharing a kiss with Katsuki, but you couldn’t deny you hadn't thought about it at least twice in high school.
“I know you and dumbass Deku. He’s so fucking bad for you, but he’s all you ever want. I don’t know if you’re gonna go back to him, if you can even call it that when you’ve never technically dated, but I can treat you better and I needed to do that before anything happened.”
His hands fall from your face and stuff into his pockets as he resumes the conversation as if he never kissed you. It wasn’t his intention to pretend the kiss never happened, it was far from that. In fact, it would probably be brought up tomorrow when you stopped by his office with a new costume design. He wanted you but he needed you to truly think about his words. To truly think about how toxic Deku was for you, how bad he was, how he’d never want to settle down for you, not with his savior complex of needing to keep everyone safe.
-
You closed the door to Katsuki’s office and took a seat in the chair across from his desk. His office was decorated well. The wall colors looked good in contrast with the chairs and sofa he had pushed against the wall. Part of you wondered if he let his mom decorate his office or whether he picked up habits from his parents.
Your stomach churned as you gave the blonde hero a brief, halfhearted greeting. Your head swirled as you began to pull out papers from your briefcase to show him the newest designs on his latest costume. You had a major hangover going on, the drinks you had last night were much to potent, and they only began to progress after Katsuki had kissed you. It wasn’t exactly the most logical solution to your problems, but it was a great temporary one.
You were lucky and thankful that your meeting with Katsuki hadn’t been scheduled until later into the afternoon to accommodate his busy schedule. Unluckily, you had an early business meeting with your boss, Melissa. Most fortunately, Melissa believed you when you said you got a flat tire on your way into work and would have to postpone your meeting.
Or at least, she'll believe you until she sees the tabloids. You hadn't even dared look, you could only imagine how the photos looked. You, Katsuki, the kiss. You, Deku, his exe. All the scenarios that must be spinning right now.
“These are the new designs for your hero costume. I have some blueprints for a better grenade gauntlet somewhere in my briefcase.”
Katsuki reached across his desk and grabbed the costume designs from your hands, his fingers lingering on your wrists just a few seconds too long. You weren’t sure what to make of his kiss to you from the previous night. You weren’t sure if he was being genuine, or if he just drunkenly wanted to try to obtain what his former friend failed to. Regardless, the action doesn’t fail to make your cheeks heat up. You quickly draw your hand back and begin to scramble around in your briefcase for the gauntlet blueprints. You shouldn’t be acting like this, you should be more formal and professional.
“I’m gonna look really badass. You draw them yourself?”
“I draw all my costumes myself. I’m sure all my assistants hate me, I’m such a micromanager. I try not to be so controlling, but it never works like that.”
“I know, there were times in highschool that I was sure googels… Uhm- Hutsame? Hatsume was going to kill you. It looks great. You did a fuckin’ fantastic job.”
You let out a light laugh despite your pounding head. Katsuki was never good at remembering his peer’s names, it was only as of recently he was making more of an effort after the media called him out for using harsh and cruel nicknames. A blush adorns your cheeks deeply. Crimson red sprouting up from your neck and above. Most people say the way to a woman’s heart is gifts, jewelry and flowers, for you it was your designs.
“Here are the gauntlet blueprints, I think you’ll like them too. It sprays a non-toxic formula on your wrists to make you secrete sweat more while you wear them, creating a bigger blast in half the time it usually takes to collect it.”
Katsuki takes the papers from you and looks over the blueprints, his eyes briefly going over the ingredient list. He didn’t really care what you were putting in it or on his skin. He trusted you, if you said it was safe and nontoxic, then it was safe and nontoxic. He handed them back to you hesitantly, he didn’t want you to leave his office, not just yet.
“They look great, can’t wait to use them.”
“I’ll move them to the top of my list of priorities. If you didn’t mind me asking… Why did you decide on a new costume? Not that I don’t love the business, but you’ve had the same costume design since you graduated UA.”
“Like you, I’m controlling, I hate when things change, I like constants. My costume was a perfect constant. The designers always take what I say I want and change it up. With you, it’s not like that.”
You smiled over at Katsuki and straightened out your shirt. You took such pride in your designs and projects. When someone complimented it and your efforts, you found yourself shrivling away into a blushing, bashful mess.
“With you, it’s not like that at all. I don’t care if it’s changed and messed with.”
He wasn’t referring to the costume, and you both knew that. He was referring to life in general. Katsuki liked having a constant, unchanging schedule. Ever since high school, he woke up at a certain time, trained at a certain time, ate at a certain time. He had a schedule and a life that depended on a constant. The only reason he decided to get a new costume change was to have an excuse for you to come over to his office, to have you talk to him, even if just for fifteen minutes out of his day.
Katsuki didn’t care how he disrupted his schedule when you were around. He didn’t care what was getting changed. You could change his sleep schedule, you could disrupt his workout times, and even add the wackiest and stupidest detail to his costume, he would let you do that, his perfect constants be damned.
You muffled out a yawn and began to slowly collect the papers back up and push them into your briefcase. You wanted to mention the kiss, mention how it made you feel, ask if he was too drunk last night. The words kept getting jumbled and stuck in your throat.
“You kissed me last night.”
Your words just tumbled out, so bluntly and honestly. Stating a fact you both knew had happened. Katsuki nods at you, a coy smile coming over his face.
“Y'know, I meant what I said. I could treat you better.”
“Katsuki…”
“I know you’re not over Deku. You’ve been pining over that block head since high school.”
Katsuki stood up and made his way from his side of his desk to your side, he leaned against the edge of the desk and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers into his warm ones, the way a couple would. You hadn’t realized how his feelings for you had just slipped by you over the years. How had you not seen his feeling for you earlier on? Were you that preoccupied with Izuku?
“I know you’re not over him, but I’m not over you. I’ve wanted you just as long as you’ve wanted him. I wasn’t good enough then. I didn’t think I was good enough, especially after your dad’s retirement. I thought it would be better to not intervene and let him have you, but fuck!”
Katsuki crouched down to the chairs level, to your level, to talk to you more equally. You could just see the anguish in his eyes. He’d had feelings for you all this time, and he just pushed them aside, thinking Deku would be better, thinking Deku would be more worthy.
“All Might picked Deku, so I thought he’d be good for you too, but he treats you like shit. He uses you and then pushes you aside. He refuses to claim you as his, but I would! I would make you mine! I would make you feel so fucking wanted, I would treat you good!”
Before you knew what you were doing., before you could even process your actions. You leaned forward and gripped Katsuki’s cheeks before pressing your lips against his. They were soft, like the night before, and they tasted like cinnamon, but they felt warm. His hands came up and wrapped around your torso, holding you like delicate glass as your mouths pressed together.
“Ask me out. You say you want me, you say you can treat me better, so ask me out. Take me on a date, ask me out.”
You say the words breathlessly. You couldn’t hear the pounding in your head anymore, but you could feel the pounding in your chest, your heart beating hard against your skin with excitement.
“Are you available tonight?”
Katsuki’s voice came out raspy, and just as breathless as you. It was just above a murmur, relishing in your surprising actions, excited at the reality of being able to grasp his long awaited shot. Your hands were still on his cheeks, fingers delicately holding him as your lips curved into a smile.
"Pick me up at 7, and don't be late."
-
Slowly your dinner with Katsuki transitioned into more and Izuku became a thing of the past. Your dinner dates progressed and grew longer and longer each time. As time dragged on your dinners turned into nightcaps, a quick bite of dessert you just so happened to conveniently have bought or baked earlier that day. Slowly those nightcaps turned into the daring question: “Want to stay the night?”
As the months raged on, you began randomly popping into his agency for lunch because you happened to be in the area. Katsuki’s patrol route suddenly changed and went right by your company on days he knew you’d be in.
It wasn’t long before you and Katsuki went public and put a label on yourselves, boyfriend and girlfriend. With him being seen leaving your apartment early in the morning wearing fresh clothes, you having lunch with him more than weekly but less than daily, and more than often evenings spent together, it was obvious to the media what was going on between you both, and the media was completely eating it up out of the palm of your hands.
“Can you fix my gauntlet?”
His voice was rough, his mouth stuffed with food. You grabbed a napkin as you laughed at him, his job wore him out too much. He always stuffed his face during lunch, he needed the energy and it seemed mannerisms left his mind in private. You reached across the sofa that resides inside his office, meant for him to take naps in between patrols, and wiped food of the side of his face.
“Is it malfunctioning? My assistants know how to fix it if you broke it in battle.”
“Your dumb assistants forward me paperwork every time I have to send in gear to get fixed when I break it.”
“You’re such a baby. They give you paperwork for legal purposes. If you broke it, we’re going to charge you. You’re lucky I have my tool bag on hand, I’ll look at it when I’m done eating.”
Katsuki grinned over at you before pressing a hard kiss against your cheek. He already did enough paperwork whenever he took down a villain, he didn’t need to fill out more just because your company didn’t want to pay for something he broke on his own. Katsuki grabbed his gauntlet from a box hidden in a corner behind his desk, he wanted to be sure to keep all the parts together for you. This wasn’t the first time he asked you to fix something, and you always grumbled about how if he was going to be destructive he could keep all the parts together.
Katsuki brought the box over to you and set it on the coffee table before he began to clear away all of the empty takeout containers from the table to make some more workspace for you. You wiped your mouth clean with a napkin, tossed it in the trash, then reached for your work bag and pulled out some tools. Katsuki heard you get the gauntlet from the box and heard you let out a ragged sigh. He didn’t have to see the box to know you were upset.
“You are so destructive. I don’t even know if I can fix this, how did you do this?”
“It was an accident! I was falling and Eijirou caught me, but he had his quirk activated.”
“Accident? You killed him!”
Katsuki snickered at you quietly as he took a seat on the couch next to you. He watched you tinker around with the parts and your tools, you were so in your element and focused, he could go on watching you like this for hours.
“Him?”
“Yes. My assistants named this one Gary. Gary the grenade. I would take him back to my office to fix him, let you fill out paperwork, and learn your lesson, but I bet twenty bucks Gary would last at least two months before you broke him.”
Katsuki drummed his fingers against his leg as he watched you mess around with your screwdriver. His heart was pounding in his chest as he watched you. He had an ulterior motive for inviting you over for lunch. There was a question he needed to ask you, one he thought you were both ready for. He didn’t want to ask you in public where the media would be prying in with a camera, and he didn’t want to ask you when you were having dinner in your apartment. He didn’t want you to feel trapped, he wanted you to be in a comfortable setting where you could feel free to say no.
“You’re such a dork, I’ll try not to kill Gary again.”
Your laughter resounded out in Katsuki’s office. You both knew he would kill Gary. Katsuki was constantly breaking his gauntlets. Although you had to suppose that breaking his equipment would happen with his job, he broke his equipment more than any other hero you knew. Katsuki took a breath before he blurted out the question he’d been holding in.
“Will you move in with me?”
Your laughter died out and you dropped your screwdriver on the ground. With a shaky hand, you reached down and grabbed the screwdriver. You fumbled with it in your hands, unsure of how to answer his question.
“I’m over at yours or your at mine all the time anyway, I just thought it would be nice and convenient.”
“I don’t know… Katsuki, we haven’t even told my dad about us.”
He could sense your hesitance. The way you were bouncing your leg and the way you squeezed your screwdriver was evidence enough. He didn’t want to pressure you into this, he wanted you to take your time and think it out. This was a big decision for both of you.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to say yes to me. It’s okay to say no if you’re not ready. I just thought it’d be nice to wake up to you every day.”
You bit down on your lip as you packed your tools up into your bag and placed the gauntlet back in the box. On second thought, bet be damned, maybe you should take Gary back to the office. The ambiance in the office was suffocating and throwing off your aura.
“It’s just kind of soon, I need to think about it.”
Katsuki wrapped your jacket around your shoulders and helped you zip it up as you shrugged it on your arms. You needed to get out of his office, this question was beginning to suffocate you. It’d only been a few months, it was moving really fast. You loved Katsuki, you knew that much, but this was important. Katsuki tightly wrapped your scarf around your neck to keep you warm from the cold February air and pulled you in for a brisk kiss.
“I love you, but it’s really soon, I’m gonna think about it okay?”
“I love you too, take as long as you need to think, this is important. Whatever you decide on is not gonna change us.”
You grabbed your work bag and the box before you made your way out of Katsuki’s office. You were going to think about it, you’d give him a decision by the end of the week. You made your way down the hall and hit the button on the elevator. After a minute of waiting the doors slid open, a man stepped out and you barely gave yourself time to register the face as you stepped on.
With wild green hair and deep green eyes, Izuku Midoriya watched as you walked past him onto the elevator as he had just gotten off. You clicked on a button, but Izuku was quick to call out your name and stick his hand in the elevator door. They slid back open, damn those heat-sensitive elevator bars you designed. Bad creation, bad creation! They really took off after you designed them, now you wished you hadn’t.
“[Y/N].”
“Izuku.”
You were over him, over what had happened, at least mostly. That deep petty part of you wanted to ignore him, pretend you hadn’t seen or heard him despite being in front of you. He was still your father’s protege, it would be rude and upset your father should he hear about it. After all, it wasn’t like you clued your dad in about the drama that happened between you and Izuku.
Izuku was feeling the complete opposite of you. He missed you. He wished he hadn’t played with your feelings like that, he wished he had manned up and just dated you. He went from talking to you practically every day, to not hearing from you in months. He was reeling, suffocating in his own loneliness. It was his own damn fault, and if he could change it he would.
“I haven’t seen you in so long.”
Your heart clenched at his words. Maybe some part of you was still holding on to him, it wasn’t like you could blame yourself, you had been in love with Izuku for so long. He was your first real friend and your best friend, someone who didn’t see just as All Might’s daughter. He was your first lover, albeit unofficially, and your first heartbreak.
“It’s been a while.”
After the incident in his office, you cut complete ties to him, and you were extremely gracious about it. You didn’t spill to the press about why ended your friendship, the media assumed it had to do with dating his rival. You didn’t go spilling your guts to your father, his mentor about how he slept with you while he was dating a civilian either.
“I- I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have treated you how I did, it was shitty, and I was a coward.”
You didn’t want to have this conversation, it hurt. You hated those heat-sensitive bars. Maybe you should push to have them stop being produced.
“You were right, I didn’t want to admit my feelings because your dad is All Might. But I really did do it to protect you, I mean that. Twisted as it was, I thought pushing you away would protect you.”
“What you did was shitty, but I’m over it Izuku. It’s been months, consider yourself forgiven.”
You weren’t sure you truly had forgiven him, but you were sure some part of him did push you away for your safety. In high school, the league had originally targeted you instead of Katsuki, although they failed to obtain you and took him instead, it tore Izuku up. That was when he began leading you on with empty promises of a relationship. It was to protect you sure, but you wished he could’ve gotten over it after nearly ten years.
“[Y/N], I don’t just want your forgiveness. I want you, I miss you, I want my best friend back. Do you think we could get some coffee sometime? Have a fresh start?”
Izuku pushed your hair behind your ear and you wanted to throw up. The whole situation made you sick and you wished the elevator door would open up already. Maybe Izuku cared about you, maybe he wanted you, but he didn’t love you, not really. It was obvious you were with Katsuki, it was obvious you were happy. You had his gauntlets in your arms, you had his jacket on your body and there were dozens of news articles about your loving relationship.
He knew you were with Katsuki, he should’ve known how happy you were. Why couldn’t he leave it at that? You would’ve let him happily be with that civilian girl had he not cheated on her with you, she had to know the truth for that one. Katsuki flashed to your head and you felt nauseous. Katsuki held back his feelings for you for years. Years. He held back for years because he wanted you to be happy.
Katsuki really did love you, in the end, he wanted whatever would be best for you, whatever made you happiest. Your whole relationship he’d been attentive and sweet. Caring and loving. The perfect boyfriend. It made you laugh, Izuku of all people put this into perspective for you. Katsuki completely loved you, and talking with Izuku cleared any doubts. Moving in with Katsuki shouldn’t be a question at all, it felt right now.
“Izuku, we can be friends, but nothing more. I’m with Katsuki, and I am happy.”
“Right, sorry! I… I shouldn’t have overstepped that.”
Izuku backed up and gave you space just as the elevator doors slid open. You walked out of the building, a new dignified feeling in your chest. Once you were in your car you put Gary in the passenger seat and buckled him up for a safe ride to your office, then you pulled out your phone to shoot a quick text.
-
You began to prep the garlic, peeling each piece before you crunched it up in a metal mincer. You didn’t even own a mincer before you began dating Katsuki. He had complained that your cooking utensils weren’t good, slowly you began to notice that new utensils and spices would show at your apartment. Not that you were complaining, Katsuki was a great cook and he was right, fresh garlic was better than that pre-prepped refrigerated garlic.
Your father, Toshinori, stood beside you as he cut up the onions and vegetables for your Yakitori. You were nervously watching the clock, unbeknownst to your father. You were waiting for Katsuki to get here, but your father didn’t even know you were expecting another guest. Every Wednesday your father had dinner with you, yet you never mentioned being in a relationship.
You never mentioned your relationship with Katsuki, and your father didn’t watch the tabloids for things like that. Truthfully, you were scared of his reaction. He always hoped you would end up with Izuku. Naturally, as his mentor and your father, he wanted you with someone who he knew. Someone he thought would protect you. You never introduced your father to any boyfriends before Izuku, and you didn’t want to break his heart. You would be lying if you said you were putting off your father finding out about you and Katsuki.
“Dad, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
You kept your hands focused on the task at hand, harshly crushing the garlic as you tried to find the best way to phrase your words.
“I’ve been seeing someone, and I invited him over for dinner.”
Your father kept slicing the onions before he moved onto the vegetables. Admittedly, he began to cut more meticulously and harder, nearly cutting his finger.
“Is it Izuku?”
“No.”
You bit down on your lip as you walked over to the stove and shoveled the garlic into the pan with the meats before you reached over and grabbed the bowls of vegetables that your father was cutting up and poured them into the pan as well. You knew you were upsetting your father. He wanted you to date Izuku, ever since you met Izuku, all he did was encourage your crush on the green boy.
“Good.”
“What? I thought you wanted me to be with Izuku.”
“God, no. I love Izuku like a son, and I might’ve said that when you were in high school, but that was because I knew you would never progress more than best friends.”
Your father brought over more chopped vegetables and poured them in the pan before taking a wooden spoon and stirring the contents around in the pan.
“I didn’t want you dating in high school. I thought it’d be better to encourage you to chase after someone who didn’t know how to talk to girls rather than having to deal with you dating a guy like Kaminari or Bakugo. That would’ve been a horrible nightmare.”
To hear that your father didn’t actually want you with Izuku was a relief, your worst fear was disappointing your father, hearing him say it would’ve been a nightmare had you been dating Bakugo was heart-clenching, There was a rough knock at the door, and it couldn’t have been timed worse.
Your father took long stride-full steps and walked over to your door. He unhooked the latch and opened the oak door up, there before him stood Katsuki. You wondered if he was as nervous as you were feeling. This was his old school teacher, and the hero he looked up to growing up. It took a lot to say 'hey, I’m dating your daughter’ more so it was ballsy to say 'we’re moving in together’ on the same night.
“Bakugo, my boy!”
Your father greeted Bakugo kindly with open arms as if he hadn’t just said you being with Bakugo would be a nightmare. If Katsuki was nervous he didn’t show it. His body wasn’t too stiff, and he had worn nice clothes. He smiled at your father, a genuine real smile as he held out a wine bottle. Katsuki had evolved so much since high school, you hoped he showed that to your father this evening.
“Good evening sir, I brought some wine.”
“Joseph Phelps red, that's quite expensive. Personally, I’m more of a white wine guy.”
Your father turned it around in his hands before smiling back at your boyfriend lightly.
“It’s not white, but we’ll make do.”
Katsuki shot you a helpless look as your father carried the bottle into the kitchen to look for your wine glasses and pop open the bottle. This evening was already off to a bad start.
“I thought you said he liked red wine.”
“I thought he did. He drinks it a lot.”
Katsuki ran his fingers through his hair stressfully. He wanted this dinner to go well, he wanted your father to like him as your boyfriend. Katsuki wanted a life with you, and the key to that was your father’s approval.
“Just sit down and relax. It’s not like your a total stranger to him, he knows you.”
“I should say the same to you. You look like your gonna pass out.”
You placed a chaste kiss against Katsuki’s lips before you took off to the kitchen to help serve dinner and Katsuki made his way to your table. It was the fact that your father knew him that worried him. Katsuki knew he could come off as aggressive and mean. Compared to high school, Katsuki was a lot tamer but he was worried your father wouldn’t see that. Katsuki knew how much your father and his opinion mean to you.
You carried plates of food out to the table and placed them so Katsuki was at one end of the table and your father at the other, with you in the middle. Out came your father from the kitchen, forks in one hand, wine cups in the other. You took your seats and began to eat, all while your father gave Katsuki a very intense stare.
“So Katsuki, [Y/N] tells me you’ve been dating her.”
“Yup! Best damn six months of my life.”
Katsuki cringed as the swear word tumbled out of his mouth. That could’ve been worded better. Toshinori raises his eyebrows as he takes a bite of his food.
“So, it’s been six months, and you’re just now telling her father?”
“We were waiting to see how serious this was going to be, testing out the waters of a new relationship first.”
“You weren’t serious about her in the beginning?”
You took a big gulp of your wine as your father began to accost your boyfriend. It was great for your nerves, you weren’t sure if you should intervene or let Katsuki handle himself. To put it plainly, when it came to your father you were a chicken.
“I’ve always been serious about [Y/N], but she can be very… Hesitant and indecisive.”
It was a nice way of saying distrustful and wary, hesitant to be in a relationship after Izuku callously used you and tossed you aside constantly. Toshinori took a sip of his wine and tried his best to make it look distasteful, truthfully it was good wine and Katsuki was being really smooth and cool with his replies.
“What makes you think you deserve my daughter?”
“Dad, stop it.”
“I deserve her because I know I can make her happy. I know I can keep her safe, and we love each other, so fuckin’ much.”
A blush dusts your cheeks as Katsuki slides his hand into yours on the table. You weren’t used to showing such a display of affection, physically or verbally, to a guy in front of your father, and you still felt nervous. Ultimately, Katsuki was right. He made you happy, he made you feel safe.
“I will admit, you’ve come a long way since high school. Truthfully, I love the wine, I just wanted to mess with you both.”
You let out a small breath of relief. He liked Katsuki, he really liked him.
“If you’re going to try and hide something from your father, you probably shouldn’t tell your boss, who is also my goddaughter.”
“Melissa is such a snitch.”
“You also didn’t hide it very well. Your bathroom reeks like male cologne, I found some boxers in your bedroom, and you’re all over the Facebook.”
“I thought you didn’t use social media, you barely know how to text.”
Your father laughed at you as you crossed your arms. He really had you worried when he said it would’ve been a nightmare for you to be dating Bakugo. Your anxiety went through the roof, and you drank a lot of wine glasses to soothe your nerves.
“Melissa has been teaching me how to do it. It’s rather, what’s that word, it’s lit. She’s gonna set up a TokTik with me tomorrow.”
“So you like him?”
“I taught him in high school, I know he’s going to respect you and treat you right. If not… Well, I’ve got Snipes number and he owes me a favor.”
You smiled and squeezed Katsuki’s hand. You let out a nervous chuckle then took a gulp out of your wine again. It was now or never. It was no big deal. It’s not like you were getting married. You squeezed Katsuki’s hand harder as your words came out.
“I and Katsuki have decided we want to move in with each other.”
“I think that’s a big step, but if you’re happy then that’s all that matters.”
“Thanks, dad. He does make me happy, he makes me really happy.”
Your father smiled at you and grabbed your hand. It was the closest thing to a hug that he could give you while you were eating dinner. Your father liked him, he approved of the relationship and that was a heavyweight lifted off your chest. You were happy with Katsuki, completely and irrevocably happy.
“While we’re on this subject, I think we should talk about what I found in your bathroom trash can last week.”
-
You were laid down on your new couch, your head in Katsuki’s lap as he ran his fingers through your hair carefully and gently. The news played on the TV, going over and displaying the highlights of Katsuki, or rather DynaMight’s fight from earlier that day. Each new scene was more explosive than the last, but it painted Katsuki as a hero.
“They always get my destructive side on highlight. It would be nice if they could get more footage of me post-explosion.”
“I like it, makes you look all badass and hot. Besides, I get a good view of you using Gary without seeing him all broken up.”
“I’m starting to wonder whether your my number one fan or Gary’s.”
You let out a short chuckle as the scene cuts to an end and they start showing footage of a new hero. Katsuki reaches forward, grabs the remote, and flips through the channels until he finds the cooking channel. Ever since you moved in together 'Master Chef’ had been playing on your TV a lot.
The move went great. It took some time for you to find an apartment you both liked. You had decided it was best to find a new apartment altogether rather than moving into one of your own. It was something the both of you could have together, to decorate and make a home out of.
“I’m always your number one fan. You light up my world like DynaMight!”
“That was a cringy joke. I’m not letting Denki and Mina in our apartment again, they’re gonna drain your brain cells.”
There’s a hard knock on the door, and you pull your head up off of Katsuki’s lap, bringing yourself into a sitting position. You stretch your back out before standing up and unwrinkling your clothes.
“It’s probably the pizza, I’ll get it. You can find a movie for us.”
“Do you mean find, or look at the movies you added to our Netflix list?”
“Hey, you make me sound like a dictator. I’m giving you the opportunity to choose between the three movies I picked out.”
Your voice yells out to Katsuki from across the apartment as you make your way over to the door. You didn’t bother checking through the hole before opening the door, it wasn’t like anyone was going to try something at DynaMight’s home. They should know they’d be blown to bits.
“Hell- Oh.”
You were expecting the pizza delivery boy with your pizza, instead you were greeted by green eyes and a soaking wet green bed of hair. It must be raining out, you felt bad for the delivery boy and your pizza.
Deku stared at you, unsure of why he came here. One minute he was drinking, the next he was typing your new address into his GPS, and his feet started walking on their own accord.
“Hi.”
“Hello. Why are you here?”
You get out a displeased sigh as you heard your words come out. You were just terribly hungry. Seeing Deku wasn’t what you wanted, seeing Deku and no pizza was especially not what you wanted.
“I’m sorry, that was rude. I mean it’s kind of late, are you alright?”
He wasn’t sure what to say, all he knew was that he missed you terribly bad. He missed you so much, he yearned just to see you. He knew it wasn’t right showing up at your house, but he needed to just see you in person. Not through old Instagram photos and Snapchat stories, he needed to see you in person.
“I’m sorry for showing up unannounced like this, I just needed- I needed to see you.”
Upon hearing the sound of his voice Katsuki scowled. Even deep within his new apartment, Katsuki could hear Deku, it was a nuisance to him. He placed the remote on the coffee table and made his way over to the front door while calling out to you, feigning ignorance of Deku’s presence.
“Was it the pizza princess?”
Katsuki slinked his arms around you from behind, letting his chin rest on your shoulder as a small coy smile made way to his face, he kissed your cheek before looking at Izuku, rubbing it in his face.
“Deku.”
Katsuki’s voice holds an unpleasant disdain as he says Izuku’s name and it’s a slap to his face. It was wrong of him to show up at your apartment. Your shared apartment with Katsuki. It was so wrong. He knew you were with Katsuki, he knew you were happy. Why did he show up here? Why couldn’t he stay away from you?
“Can we help you?”
It’s now that it hits Izuku. He didn’t love you, not really, not deeply enough. Not the way Katsuki loved you. Katsuki stayed back, stayed silent. He suffered for years, all for the purpose of letting you be happy. He wanted what would make you happiest, and now that he had you, he treated you perfectly, like a queen.
Izuku himself was falling apart without you. He took you for granted. He pushed you away to protect you, and his heart. He hurt you. He never tried to give you what would make you happiest, never tried to do what was best for you.
He understood now. If he truly loved you, then he was going to have to be the one to step back. He needed to go away, to suffer silently. He needed to do what was best for you now, and that was to let Katsuki take care of you. His old friend always did say he was going to be the best, better than him. While he was talking about being a hero, now he was the best, at least for you.
“No, sorry. I’ve been drinking. Just got a little turned around is all. Have a good night, both of you.”
“Do you want me to call you a cab?”
Izuku pauses slightly and looks at you. He gives you a smile, the one he gives to citizens. The one he gives in a fight when he feels completely hopeless but needs to keep fighting. This was the right thing to do, the real right thing.
“No, I think I’m sober enough to get home. Goodbye [Y/N].”
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| wc: 1.5k | m.list | tags: Midoriya Izuku / AFAB! Reader, smut with soft plot, unprotected sex, p in v, after-work sex, established relationships, timeskip! Midoriya, ALL CHARACTERS ARE BASED ON TIMESKIP! Smut, slight degradation, Izuku is not a 'cinnamon roll' idc that shits annoying asf, swearing, slight praise, nicknames - 'daddy', not proofread, cannon universe, oneshot | summary: Your husband had a long day after work, only you could provide him his stress reliever. |
“Bro this shirts so fucking ugly.” You mumbled, legs spread on either side of Izuku’s hips, clutching at his plain white shirt that literally said ‘shirt’
“Don’t be dissing on my shit.” He mumbled, his hands on your hips while he laid back on the couch, “I’ve had this shirt since I was a teenager, if it works it works.”
“Yeah but it’s so… plain… literally you’re plain.”
“Oh ouch.” He laughed, the movement of his laughter making you bounce softly, “it’s comfy, it’s stylish, if it’s plain so be it. Guess I’m forever plain.”
“Plain-zuku mid-doryia.”
“How about shut up and… hop on this thang.”
“Izuku!” You slapped his chest but he quickly caught your wrist, pulling you closer to his chest while his free hand groped your ass.
He leaned in close to your ear, “I had a long ass day at work, I’m sore all over and my brain hurts. Maybe I just want a little sugar from my beautiful wife.”
Izuku squeezed your ass a little tighter, his big hand cupping your covered cheek, “and seeing you in one of my shirts? In those cute panties of yours and nothing else—“ he let out a sharp whistle, “lucky I get to come home to this.”
“It’s called being comfy.”
“Yeah and being comfy is when you’re the most sexy.”
You felt him nip your ear, kissing down your jaw. The stubble on his face scratching at your skin. It didn’t bother you though, focused on the fact that you could feel his cock hardening under you - tenting in his pants in the best possible way.
“Why do you even wear clothes?” He mumbled, his hand tracing under the shirt against your flesh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.
“Because it would be public indecency if our neighbours saw my naked figure in the windows.”
“I’ll tint them,” Izuku intercepted, “make it so only you can see out the windows and no one can see it. I’ll add blinds so thick that not even some guy with X-ray could see - I dunno, fuck, whatever you need I’ll do it for you.”
“Tint them and I’ll think about walking around naked.”
“Done,” he whispered, touching your softened nipples. Feeling them start to harden and pebble under his fingertips.
Izuku kept kissing your neck down to your shoulders, gently rubbing your nipples that rode waves of pleasure down to your core.
“And what about the dinner that’s simmering?”
“Let it burn, don’t care. I’ll order us something.”
That made you let out a soft huff of laughter, “why do you always act like a delinquent when it comes to sex and fighting.”
“I do not!” He shied, pausing his movements, “sorry, I’ll be softer.”
And softer he was, his movements, his kisses, the longing in his eyes were softer than you could ever imagine. He handled you with such care and gentleness it almost made you weak.
“Let’s get this off ya.” He whispered, tugging your shirt off of your body, admiring your bare skin that was ontop of him, “lift your hips.”
You did what he said, watching him shimmy down his pants. His hardened cock springing up, hitting the lower half of his stomach before springing up, resting against your pubic area.
Feeling him twitch against your skin, looking down to see his pre-cum starting to gather at the slit of his tip, threatening to spill down the side.
“You’re making me nervous when you analyze me like that.” He mumbled, used to the blindfolds and the eye masks he would usually put on you.
“But you literally mumble out analytics when we have sex?”
“It’s different! I’m appreciative of what you’re giving me! Letting me do! You just stare and it makes me flustered - even though we’ve been married for years not used to it!” He whined, trying to cover his face with his eyes, “you’re so pretty it makes me nervous still.”
“‘Zuku” you mumbled, feeling your heat leave a pool of slick against him, “stop talking and touch me.”
Your hands aggressively grabbed his, placing them on your breasts. He did exactly what you said, groping your chest, thumbs rubbing against your nipples. He leaned up, giving himself enough leverage to kiss at your warm skin.
You could feel his cock itching to be touched, used, drained. While he caressed your boobs, you wrapped your hands around his member, listening to him shutter - his breath hitching as you slowly stroked him.
“Nngh- babe-“ he whined, giving you pleasure that was equal.
“I love seeing you squirm.”
Izukus whole body twitched, goosebumps evident all over his body and a furious blush on his face. His hair was sticking up wildly, some of his bands sticking to his face from the sweat build-up. He could already feel his resolve breaking, looking up at you like you were some angel sitting on him.
His eyes wandering all over your body, not an inch of skin that was left unseen.
Then the mumbling started, long unpaused ranting that was under his breath. It was too fast for you to make-out but his movements were becoming harsher, faster, and more desperate.
Before you knew it, he flipped your position. Your ass up in the air as he kneeled behind you, his tip perfectly lined up to your wet, aching entrance that was ready to be stretched. His big hands were wrapped around your hips, a focused look on his face as he slid himself in.
You both simultaneously let out a collective whine - he was moaning from your walls clenching around his girth - you were whining from his cock stretching you out in unimaginable ways. Practically splitting you in two every time you fucked.
Izuku knew the drill, slow, shallow thrusts at first but when he got lost into the pleasure and the slutty mewls coming out of your mouth he couldn’t help it - a fast pace now set as he precisely slammed against your cervix, rubbing against your g-spot repeatedly.
You couldn’t hold back your moans, loud and unapologetic as you whimpered with each thrust. The buildup was fast, feeling it crashing down to your core. Your free hand went between your legs, desperately rubbing at your clit as you bounced against his hips.
He watched your ass ripple with every thrust, using his left hand to leave a sharp smack. Every-time he slapped your ass he could feel you clench down tighter, motivating him to make you orgasm from his cock alone.
Izuku bent over, his chest pressed against your back as he humped you harshly, the unity of his cock in your vagina letting out lewd squelching sounds from the air escaping.
He let out drawn out whines and moans, “so, tight. All mine, like a puzzle piece I wanna screw all night.”
Izuku kept nipping at your shoulders, his hands by your head as he caged you in like a primal animal. His soft kisses contradicting his brash movements.
“‘Zuku-“ you mewled, “fuck yes baby, just like that, right there don’t stop!”
“Wasn’t plannin’n stoppin’” he slurred out closely to your ear, “if I still had my quirk I’d be fucking you so hard you’d be screaming and everyone would hear it.” His words became harsh, his desire to be gentle was thrown out the window.
“You’re so fucking tight, it makes me want to stretch your pussy out to the point my hand could fit in there”
He kept mumbling to himself, letting you hear his dirty talk, “if I didn’t know you better I’d assume your’e some slut desperate for my cock. Such a pretty girl making some pretty fuckin’ sounds.”
That only drove you closer to the edge, “hun- I’m close.”
You could feel his smile against your shoulder, now drilling into you to the point your mind started to haze. Izuku knew how to fuck you dumb and he loved it, listening to your ongoing vocals, watching your body convulse under him.
“G’d, m’too.” He grunted, “wanna cum on my fat cock? Wanna cum on daddy’s pulsating cock?” He growled out, “be louder for me or else I’ll stop fucking your cunt entirely.”
“M’ready loud.” You slurred, unable to form proper sentences,
“Louder.”
You felt him start to slow down to an agonizing pace, “no! No I’m sorry go back go back I was close!” Becoming obnoxious loud once more, feeling him fasten his pace - you kept being loud for his pressure.
“Good girl. Be loud, just like that.” He praised, his hips slamming against your ass.
“Close- close, baby close.” You whined, your hands wrapped around his wrists to try and keep you grounded.
“Cum for me.” He whispered into your ear, sucking on your neck.
He felt you tighten like he’s never felt before, making his own cum spirt into you but he didn’t stop the thrusts, feeling you ride out your high on his member.
Izuku pulled out, twitching dick as cum dripped down his shaft - watching the mixture of orgasmic fluids drip out of your entrance in gushes of waves.
“So…. What’s for dinner?” He laughed, getting up to clean you up.
“Another round of pussy.” You mumbled, catching his wrist and tugging him back onto the couch.
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okay okay, hear me out! 7 minutes in heaven with izuku but it’s shoto’s celebration party for reaching number 2 in the pro-heroe rankings and everyone’s having too much fun and izuku is a little tipsy and holding on for dear life to not be that obvious with you but oh boy he fails poorly
7 Minutes in Heaven
༉‧₊˚. summary: at the class 1a reunion, mina (ofc) thought up a game of 7 minutes in heaven! of course, everyone joined in...but you ended up leaving someone special that night..
༉‧₊˚. warning/s: smut. mdni, 18+, nipple play, overstimulation, switch!reader, soft dom!izuku, yearning, p in v, vaginal sex, unprotected sex
༉‧₊˚.w/c: 3k~
The party at Shoto’s new apartment was louder than anyone expected. Number Two Hero status came with bigger paychecks and bigger expectations, and apparently bigger parties. Half of Class 1-A had shown up, plus a handful of other pros. Music thumped through the speakers. Empty cans and bottles lined the counters. Someone had convinced Shoto to wear a ridiculous silver “#2” sash that he kept tugging at with a deadpan expression.
Y/N leaned against the kitchen island, nursing a mixed drink and watching the chaos with a small smile. She’d come straight from patrol, still riding the high of a successful shift, and the alcohol was hitting nicely.
Izuku was across the room, flushed and laughing at something Kirishima said. He was tipsy—more than tipsy, really. His curls were messy, cheeks pink, and he kept stealing glances at her. He always did, but tonight the glances lingered. His control was slipping.
They’d been dancing around each other for years. Close friends since U.A., closer after graduation. Neither had made a real move. Tonight felt different.
“Alright, losers!” Mina shouted, clapping her hands. “We’re playing 7 Minutes in Heaven. Proper rules. No backing out.”
A chorus of groans and cheers went up. Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled. Classic Mina.
Names went into a bowl. When Mina reached in for the second name after pulling Shoto’s (who looked mildly horrified), she grinned wide.
“Y/N!”
Y/N’s stomach flipped. She stepped forward, already laughing. “This is going to be awkward no matter who—”
Mina pulled the next slip. “And Izuku!”
The room erupted. Whistles, teasing shouts. Izuku froze mid-sip, green eyes wide as they locked onto hers. His face went from pink to deep red in seconds.
“Oh shit,” Kaminari cackled. “Deku’s done for.”
“Closet’s that way,” Mina said, pointing with a flourish. “Timer starts now. Have fun, kids.”
Izuku rubbed the back of his neck, muttering something under his breath as he followed Y/N into the walk-in closet. The door clicked shut behind them. The space was cramped—coats, shelves, barely enough room to stand without touching. The muffled party noise filtered through the wood.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then Izuku let out a shaky laugh. “This is… um. Yeah.”
Y/N turned to face him. In the low light leaking under the door, she could see how glassy his eyes were. The alcohol had loosened him up. His usual careful restraint was fraying.
“You okay, Deku?” she asked softly, leaning back against the shelves.
He nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Totally. Just—didn’t expect it to be you.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, then jerked back up. “Not that I mind. I don’t. Mind. At all.”
Y/N bit her lip to keep from smiling. He was failing spectacularly at playing it cool.
The air thickened. Seven minutes wasn’t long, but it felt endless in the small space. Izuku shifted closer, one hand bracing on the shelf beside her head. He smelled like citrus and the faint trace of his hero costume soap.
“I’ve been trying not to stare at you all night,” he admitted, voice low and a little rough. Tipsy Izuku had no filter. “You look really good. You always do, but tonight it’s… unfair.”
Y/N’s pulse jumped. She reached up and tugged lightly at the collar of his shirt. “You’re not exactly subtle either, Izuku. You’ve been watching me since I walked in.”
He swallowed hard. “Can’t help it.”
The first kiss was clumsy—his mouth finding hers with more enthusiasm than grace. The second was better. Hungrier. Izuku groaned quietly against her lips, one hand sliding to her waist, pulling her closer. He was warm, solid, and clearly trying to hold back but losing the battle fast.
Y/N kissed him harder, fingers threading through his curls. He whimpered—soft, involuntary—and pressed her back against the shelves. His hips rolled forward once, almost unconsciously. She could feel him half-hard already through his jeans.
“Fuck,” he breathed against her neck when they broke for air. “Sorry. I’m— I’ve wanted this for so long and I’m a little drunk and—”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” she whispered.
He did. Deeper this time, tongue sliding against hers while his hands roamed. One slipped under the hem of her shirt, palm hot against her skin. Y/N tugged at his belt, just enough to tease, and he shuddered.
The knock on the door came way too soon.
“Time’s up, lovebirds!” Mina called, clearly delighted.
They broke apart, breathing hard. Izuku’s lips were swollen, eyes dark, and he looked like he wanted to drag her back in. Instead he rested his forehead against hers for a second.
“We should… probably go back out,” he muttered, voice wrecked.
Y/N smoothed his shirt down for him. “Or we could leave.”
His eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
They slipped out of the closet to a round of cheers and teasing. Izuku’s face was still flushed, and he kept a hand on her lower back as they said quick goodbyes. Shoto gave them a knowing nod. Mina winked so hard it looked painful.
The cab ride to Izuku’s apartment was tense with anticipation. His thigh pressed against hers the whole way. He kept his hand on her knee, thumb stroking small circles that made her breath catch.
The second his front door closed, restraint snapped.
Izuku pushed her up against it, kissing her like he’d been starving for it. All the careful, analytical hero persona was gone—replaced by raw need. His hands were everywhere, pulling her shirt over her head, unhooking her bra with surprising speed.
“You’re sure?” he asked between kisses, ever the gentleman even while tipsy and desperate.
“Positive.” Y/N tugged his shirt off, nails scraping down his scarred chest. “Bedroom, Izuku.”
He lifted her easily—hero strength—and carried her down the short hallway. They tumbled onto his bed in a mess of limbs. Izuku hovered over her, green eyes intense even in the dim lamplight.
He kissed down her neck, her collarbones, taking one nipple into his mouth while his hand worked the other. Y/N arched into him, fingers tightening in his hair. He groaned at the taste of her, hips grinding down against her thigh.
“Been thinking about this,” he muttered against her skin. “You. Under me. Like this.”
Y/N reached between them and palmed him through his jeans. He was rock hard, straining against the fabric. “Yeah? Show me then.”
He stripped the rest of their clothes with clumsy urgency. When he finally settled between her thighs, cock nudging against her entrance, he paused.
“Look at me,” he said softly.
She did. His face was flushed, curls wild, eyes full of heat and something deeper. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, until he bottomed out with a broken moan.
“Fuck… you feel so good,” he whispered, forehead pressed to hers.
Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist. “Move, Izuku.”
He did. Slow at first, savoring it, then faster as she urged him on with nails on his back and breathy moans. The bed creaked under them. Skin slapped against skin. Izuku buried his face in her neck, muttering praises and curses between thrusts.
“You’re so wet… been wanting you for years… shit, Y/N—”
She clenched around him deliberately and he whimpered again, hips stuttering. The sound went straight to her core.
“H-harder-- fuck!,” she gasped.
He obliged, shifting angles until he hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. One hand slipped between them, thumb circling her clit with focused precision. The combination had her tumbling over the edge fast, crying out his name as she came hard around him.
Izuku followed right after, groaning her name like a prayer as he spilled inside her, hips jerking through the aftershocks.
They stayed tangled together for a long minute, catching their breath. Izuku eventually pulled out gently and rolled to the side, pulling her against his chest.
“Stay tonight?” he asked, voice hoarse but hopeful.
Y/N smiled against his skin. “Yeah. I’m not going anywhere.”
He kissed the top of her head, arms tightening around her. The party felt like it had happened hours ago. This—quiet, warm, real—felt like the start of something they’d both waited too long for.
༉‧₊˚. A/N: ofc Mina was the one that started this. so canon.
warnings: you broke up with him, he wants to be nonchalant but he lwk wants you back, MAJOR angst, cursing, using a teammate to make you jealous, fluff??, incorrect time for 4/6 of the images(pls ignore that it’s my first time using this text app)
ps. wanted to do some more angst, and i finally can do more then 10 photos everyone clap!🥹
𑣲 summary: apparently, bakugo can speak cat.
𑣲 pairing: bakugo x reader
𑣲 wc: 0.5k | 𑣲 tags: fluff
You're sitting on a bench underneath a blooming tree, waiting for Bakugo to finish his remedial class. He'd always nag about how you didn't need to wait for him every single time but the little flicker of genuine appreciation in his ruby eyes said otherwise and you're content to wait for him. You don't have anything else to do in the afternoon anyway.
The weather is nice, fresh gale of spring wind tousling your hair gently. You sink into the wooden bench with a content sigh, throwing your arms up for a good stretch when a white cat hops onto the bench beside you and lets out a velvety purr.
You blink your eyes, recognising the cat as the residential male campus cat who has a notorious playboy reputation for only cosying up to the girls and plainly ignoring the guys. With a quiet giggle at that thought, you gently pet your lap with a hand, motioning for the cat to take a seat if he wants to. His eyes twinkle for a second before he steps onto your lap, letting out an affectionate meow as he starts kneading your uniform with his front paws.
"Oh, who's a handsome boy~" You coo, cupping the cat's cheeks with both of your hands and squishing them lightly. You continue fawning over the campus cat, showering him with words of affection and praises which he soaks all of it up with a smug feline grin, clearly enjoying your attention.
"The hell is that?"
The two of you turn your heads at the same time. Katsuki Bakugo, your boyfriend of several months, stands in front of you with a deep frown and his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest like he has just walked in on your affair.
You tut, wagging a finger at him. The campus cat merely turns away from Bakugo like he doesn't exist. "He isn't a that, Katsuki. He's a cat and a very handsome cat, isn't that right? Meow meow meow~"
The cat promptly meows right back at you in a sweet and charming purr as if he understood you, causing you to squeal as you start scratching him on his head again.
Bakugo makes a sound of annoyance as he storms towards you before unceremoniously plopping onto the bench right next to you, his leg touching yours. He glares furiously at the cat. "Oi. Bac' the hell off. That's my girlfriend, not yours."
The two of you promptly ignore him as you fawn over the cat, stroking his belly and receiving a tooth-rotting purr in response. A faint growl rumbles in Bakugo's chest as his glare hardens, jealously running amok in his burning crimson eyes. He tries nudging the cat off your lap, but the cat must be heavier than a brick. He tries to grab your attention, poking your cheek, your side, patting you on the shoulder furiously but you are too enamoured by the cuteness of the cat to pay any attention to your simmering boyfriend whose ears are slowly turning red from sheer frustration.
Unable to take it anymore, Bakugo inhales a deep breath and opens his mouth. "MEOW!!!! MEOW MEOOOOOW MEOW MEOW, MEOW ME-OW! (OI!!! GET THE HEEEEEELL AWAY FROM MY GIRLFRIEND, LITTLE FRE-AK!)"
The cat leaps to its feet, startled by Bakugo's angered shout and something akin to wild panic flashing past its eyes. It shrinks backwards before it turns around and leaps off your lap, dashing out of sight. You blink your eyes repeatedly, taken aback by how quick the cat ran away before you turn towards Bakugo who has the cockiest shit-eating grin dancing on his lips as he revels in his complete victory.
You're no stranger to seeing the extreme lengths Bakugo will go to for a complete victory, but witnessing Bakugo meowing at the top of his lungs is something you would have never thought you would witness in your entire lifetime.
"I didn't know you speak cat." You blurt out, watching as Bakugo grasps his warm palm around yours and squeezes it possessively.
"Only when some bastard's trying to woo my girlfriend." Bakugo snorts loudly before he tilts his head at you, silently asking if you wanna leave. "Do you want dessert?"
a/n: not really in the mood to write long fics recently
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Katsuki who’s dragged you to the bathroom in the middle of the night. To be fair, your friends were all sleeping on the floor of your dorm room, and you really didn’t wanna risk them hearing or seeing anything, the two of you can get pretty loud at times so it’s probably the best decision you could make. But the thought of it turns him on, the thought that your friends are literally on the other side of the door.
Katsuki who’s got you pinned against the door, your chest squished right up against it. He’s got you in a slight arch while his hands are resting on your hips, panties pushed to the side while he’s slowly thrusting into you, he’s teasing you, testing how far he can push you before you beg for more. Before you decide to say fuck it and let them hear. He really doesn’t have a pace set, it’s more of him pulling back when you try to sink down on him, only thrusting back in when he hears a little frustrated whine escape your mouth.
Katsuki who eventually slips a hand down around your hips, slowly sliding it down towards the panties you’ve still got on, slipping his hand inside to rub at your clit. When he finally decides to speed up with his pace you’re convinced that the others can hear you. There's a small thump against the door with every thrust, there's the sound of his hips meeting your ass, the slick only adding to it.
Katsuki who’s finding it so hard to try and keep quiet. The tight, wet heat between your legs is just sucking him in so well. His head is tucked into your shoulder and neck, he can hear every single whine and gasp leaving your mouth. He can hear snoring coming from the other side of the door, and the thought of one of them needing to use the washroom, only to find the two of you fucking inside, gets him so hard. Not that he wants them to see you, because he certainly doesn’t. That’s a sight he’d like to keep to himself.
Katsuki who can’t stop himself from spilling inside of you. Still not even bothering to try and pull out. He stills inside of you, the torment on your clit not stopping until a very audible whine leaves your mouth. One you two worry could’ve woken someone up. You don’t spend very long cleaning up, trying to hurry back in the event someone does actually wake up. Instead quickly leaving the washroom and hurrying back to your bed. Falling asleep in his arms, the evidence of your escapade still spilling out of you.
Katsuki who’s the first person awake in the morning, scrolling through his phone while waiting for you and everyone else to begin waking up. And everything’s going perfectly fine. Perfectly fine until Sero decides to open his mouth. “Did you guys hear that weird thumping last night?” “Yeah I did! It was so weird.” Neither of you can even look in their direction. But Kirishima knows; he was unfortunate enough to be awake through most of it…
Im ok with a kiribaku and reader children love it infact but saying their kid has red hair??? Makes no sense cuz kirishima isn't a natural redhead his hair is naturally black and I think people forget that (exceptions if you're imaging reader with red hair)
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