#mhaoneshots

so we can all agree that shoto tilts his head when he's confused (or trying to eavesdrop) right? less like an excited puppy dog and more like a curious feline

like during class and aizawa's droning voice isn't pairing with what's on the board, so he's squinting and sliding his head this way and that

or when he's watching you train and there's something going through that pretty, lopsided head of his cause something about your form is off by just a tad, but he's still trying to figure that out

or even when you're sitting on the couch together with your legs curled up to your chest, him mirroring you, faces inches apart as he dotingly listens to you talk about your day, head cocked to the side

"you okay?" you'd ask with a confused half-laugh

he blinks and lifts his head upright, brows dipping together. "what? yes."

"okay, just- you look lost."

he stares at you blankly for a long stretch of seconds that gets your face hot

"...anyway, where was i—?"

"lost in your eyes."

...

"you're-" you snort. "such a damn cornball."

(One-shot 9/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays - and sometimes Sundays.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Bakugo x OC, Katsuki Bakugo, Dynamight, Pro-Hero Bakugo, Pro-Hero OC, Pregnant OC, Some Angst with a Happy Ending, One Explosion Boy, Live Grenades, You'll Understand When You Read It, Bakugo Sometimes Just Be Feelin' Feels, And OC Does Too

Word Count: 1,056 words

Summary: When Ichijiku finds out she's expecting, she worries about how her boyfriend, Bakugo, will react to the news and how it will affect their hero journeys.

Content Warning: An "f" bomb is dropped and there is mild foreplay (but it doesn't get very far).

You never really thought if this could happen, falling in love, something strange that you hadn't had the chance to experience, it felt weird but right. He never tried to get romantically close but… That seemed so attractive that he wouldn't mind looking for a girlfriend a bit like the others did. He only focused on himself, on his goals, on his ideals.

The way he looked when he was enjoying what he was doing caused indescribable things in you, it's like listening to someone you love about something they love, that feeling that you could be there forever just watching and trying to understand why he likes it, even if you never understand why.

hitoshi is hands down the type to never confess. it's obviously a no-brainer that he would never use his quirk on you without your knowledge—and that's exactly why he equally would never confess

he's perfectly happy just being friends with you for the rest of his life. it makes his whole week to be able to eat lunch with you and walk to class together, gets his chest all tight and warm and makes his nerves jumpy when you lean into him a little to laugh at something he said. when you come over to his house and forget to take your jacket home with you, he holds it when he falls asleep. every picture—that you insisted upon taking, by the way—is kept in a stack of dozens like it in his closet.

in those rare moments after school or during the weekend when you come over to hang out, eventually get tired while lying in bed with him, and shamelessly use him as a pillow to rest? he's on the moon. you're so soft and peaceful and he takes advantage of the moment to play with your hair gently, so you won't wake. the arm under your hip drags you a little closer, makes sure he's at his most comfortable human-pillow position for you as long as possible. his arm falls asleep a few minutes later, but that's alright

yeah, he's okay loving you from afar like this.

the first time you and katsuki kissed was during an argument

this was back when you were friends, when it was wayyy easier to play into hating each other's guts rather than bare your hearts; he hated you, you hated him, and life was simple no one was fucking fooled let's bffr

you can't even remember what the argument was about, or how it even started, just that you were trading insults and having a yelling match and no one was close by to stop when things got physical

as it always would go down, someone swings first, the other deflects. proceed to shoving, kicking, biting if necessary (it never is). after falling to the floor and ending up on top of you, his hesitation wasn't apart of the usual program. neither was your hand, balled up in his shirt, tugging him down

your first kiss was nothing short of messy – heavy breaths, clicking teeth, spit dribbling, swollen lips. it took eternity to pull apart, mirroring each other with rumpled clothes and dishelved hair

it's not that katsuki can't kiss you like he did the first time, buuuut he's grown to like slow makeout seshs over the years -- y'know, where he can feel you right and really work you up

cw: suggestive

izuku runs his hands over your skin, his scarred palms tracing the planes of your body with a pace so languid it could be interpreted as reverant. he touches you with the same focused intent he has when studying quirks; there's that far-away look in his eyes as they follow the drag of his hands across your back. the expression gets periodically disrupted by the faintest smile at every little noise you make

"breathe, baby."

when he brushes hair off his brow to lean down and kiss that same path and you jolt at the feeling of his soft breath fanning your skin, those gentle hands curl rough fingers into your hip—firm, but not bruising—to keep you in place against the mattress

"you said you were ready,"

his disappointment is met with a whine of utter protest. air puffs against your skin as he chuckles

"well, then you gotta stay still. can you do that for me?"

your compliance is easily rewarded. he doesn't have the heart to leave you empty.

cw: nsfw (ﾉ∀＼*) i like to imagine katsuki as a brat tamer

you'd been up his ass all week, bugging for his attention—begging for pics, telling him to come over, sending him tiktoks full of yearning and all that mushy, soft shit. as agitated as he should be to have his phone constantly blown up by your lame ass, he isn't. he's more annoyed that he can't do anything about it, too busy with his agency.

and when he finally has time for you, what do you give him? a fucking attitude.

his apartment rattles quietly when the door slams behind him, rubber squeaking against linoleum as he toes his boots off. all of the lights are off, but he can hear distant noise from the tv in the bedroom, likely that show you say you hate so much and still watch anyway. after peeling off his suit and scrubbing the day from his body, he crawls over to you in bed.

you've made a home here with him, frequenting his place more than you do your own. his sheets smell like you even when you aren't here, and he welcomes the refresher as he joins you under the covers and pulls you across the mattress with a hand on your hip, pressing his bare chest flush to your back. you're wearing his shirt and you smell so fucking good.

"missed you." he murmurs against your skin, pressing long kisses to your jaw, the nape of your neck, the slope of your shoulder. and you have the absolute audacity to shrug his affections off.

the fuck?

he pulls your face his way with a large hand at your cheek, smashing his mouth against yours. he has you for five full seconds, then you're squirming away and putting distance between to say some dumb shit in protest like, "i'm tryna watch!"

he pinches your thigh, crumpling his face. "what's with the mood?"

"there is no mood," you swat at his hand. "i just told you."

"can't be that good. y'been needy all week and this is what i get when i finally get home?"

"don't be so dramatic. there's only—" you pick up the remote to check. "—ten minutes left. you came in at a bad time."

he sneers. "oh, did i? okay."

katsuki takes the remote from you, ignoring your fussing as he shoves at your shoulder to get you on your back, throwing his leg over you and bracketing your hips. when he shoves his hands under the shirt you'd stolen and dips his head down– your palm slaps over his mouth.

he halts, bent over at the waist, fingers curling into the meat of your torso. his ruby eyes glare down at you, unimpressed.

"this what we're doing today?" the words are muffled against your hand.

"you made it twenty times hotter in here, get off." when he encircles your wrist with his fingers, "katsuki. i'm serious."

he pushes your arm into the pillow above your head. "never minded the heat before." his voice is rough, threatening. he drags his lips down your neck, skimming canines across skin.

"think i deserve more than a "welcome home," brat. you have some fuckin' nerve treatin' me like an extra."

you make some complaint that goes fully ignored by him. he pulls your shirt off and throws it behind him, baring your naked chest to him. he wastes no time laving the sensitive skin and sucking cruel bruises across it. judging by the strained sound of your noises, you're holding back on him. he'll have to fix that.

he shoves a hand under your underwear with no preamble, stroking you with a cruel gentleness that contrasts the nip of his teeth at your chest. when your muscles loosen beneath him, legs fall open, hands bundle fistfuls of his hair and tug, he grins.

katsuki eases up, exchanging the bites and hickeys for nuzzling instead, dotting your hot face in kisses. your plea for more is music to his ears.

cw: nsfw ~ lazy sex with sero 🫦

he's got you on top of him, long hands stroking up and down your sides, not bothering to take your shirt off but not minding when his fingers catch the hem and stroke soft skin, either.

his mouth pulls slowly at yours, tongue rolling through your parted slips to tangle with yours. thats how this started, actually. just the two of you making out on the couch. he got tired of sitting up and fell back, pulling you with him. you climbing onto him was your choice. the roll of his hips while you sat there all pretty was deliberately his.

somewhere between the slide of his open mouth down your throat and your responsing moan, his dick slid between your thighs. not entering just yet, working you up for it, first. his fingers squeeze your hips to drag you halfway down him, his other hand bunching all of the fabric playing barricade out of his way in a loose grip.

the soft notch of him catches you where you need it most, sticky tip slipping in.

"like that, cariño?" he whispers against that soft junction of your shoulder when you make a noise, nipping at your skin.

he plays with your ass, rutting into you with a slow roll of his hips. his mouth detaches to thumb his head against the arm rest, looking up at you with heavy-lidded, adoring eyes. "you look good up there." his grin spreads, lopsided.