#myhero

Jiro and Momo are really good friends 🫶

katsuki bakugou x female! reader smau 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

part 1

about: getting over a man who stated to you he didn’t have a crush on you.

notes: part 2!!! thank you all for the love i got on the first part🥹

麼麼噠 ⤷ ゛Just for me Monoma x fem!reader

He’s leaning against the kitchen counter watching you move around the room, arms crossed, head tilted with that irritatingly confident expression he perfected back at UA. His hair is slightly messy, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up just enough to show the lean strength he built during his hero career. “You know,” he says lazily, voice smooth with amusement, “you get nervous when I watch you like that.”

You pause mid-step. “I do not.”

“Mm.” His grin widens. “You absolutely do.”

You try to ignore him, grabbing a glass from the cabinet, but the sound of his footsteps behind you ruins any chance of pretending he isn’t there. He steps close, his chest pushing up against your back. His presence fills the space behind you, tall and warm and annoyingly confident. One hand plants on the counter beside you, boxing you in. The other lifts your skirt just enough to reveal your lace panties

I didn't post this here!!!

you and izuku midoriya have been best friends forever. he's busy, responsible, always on schedule—you're not. but when your night goes sideways, he drops everything to come get you. you say something you might not remember. he hopes you do.

the music inside is muffled now—blurry thudding base pressed against the walls like it's trying to escape. your phone glows in your palm for a few seconds longer, until izuku’s "i'm on my way" disappears. you blink, feel the chill air wrap around your shoulders, and finally set it down beside you on the grass.

the night air is cool against your skin, a little too cool for how flushed your face feels. you're barefoot, or at least... one shoe is definitely missing. whatever. it's fine.

you curl your arms around your knees and squint up at the stars, counting exactly none of them.

the front door opens behind you with a roar of noise and then shuts again. laughter spills out into the dark for a second, but it doesn't reach you. you sit there in a haze, cheek pressed against your arm, blinking slow. everything feels floaty. you're starting to regret that last drink.

when the familiar black car pulls up to the curb, headlights washing over the lawn, you sigh in relief. izuku parks in a weirdly straight line, like even now he needs to make sure he's perfectly aligned with the sidewalk. of course he does.

he's out of the car in a second, jogging around to you. "y/n?"

you lift your head and wave weakly, "heyyy, 'zuku."

he exhales through his nose, crouching diown. "are you okay?"

"mhm," you hum, then after a beat, "no."

he doesn't ask anything else. he helps you up with one arm around your shoulders, leading you gently to the car, careful not to rush you.

"you smell like cheap tequila and regret," he says as he buckles your seatbelt for you.

"mmm. that's just perfect."

the drive to your dorm is quiet at first—until it's not.

"izuuukuuu," you sing, dragging out the vowels.

he glances at you, just long enough to check you haven't somehow turned into a puddle in his passenger seat. "yeah?"

"do you think that if trees could talk," you say, eyes glazed and face pressed against the window, "they'd be mad at us for always carving initials into them? like. what if that was their face?"

"...what?"

"like—what if—what if it's like if i just came up to you and went '<3 Y/N + I.M.' right across your cheek with a knife."

he blinks hard, struggling not to laugh. "okay. maybe no more frat parties for you."

"you're not even listening to the message, izuku," you pout.

"i think you should write a thesis on it. present it to the botany department."

"you're making fun of me," you say dramatically, eyes fluttering closed. "wow. and to think, i was gonna marry you."

he almost swerves. "what?"

"hmm?"

"...nevermind."

when he pulls up to your dorm and puts the car in park, you frown.

"shit," you mutter, blinking hard. "i don't have my key."

he turns to look at you. "what?"

"my roommates brought me. they were gonna unlock it when i got back. i didn't... i didn't think i'd need mine."

he lets his head fall back against the headrest, then sighs.

"...okay. you're coming back with me."

by the time you get to his apartment, you're half-asleep and still clinging to his arm like gravity doesn't apply to you anymore.

"okay, come on," he murmurs, locking his car and adjusting his grip around your waist. "let's get you inside."

the walk to his building is slow. you trip on the curb and immediately latch onto him with both arms, face smushed against his shoulder.

"you smell nice," you whisper.

"that's—thank you," he says, trying to breathe through it.

he unlocks his door, nudges it open with his foot, and guides you in gently.

you kick kick off your lone shoe and immediately make a beeline for his bed, flopping face-first into the mattress. he sighs and tugs a blanket over you, tossing you a hoodie too—just in case.

he exits the bedroom and returns a few minutes later with a bottle of water, aspirin, and a small trash bin.

you've turned onto your side, face buried into his pillow.

"y/n," he says softly, kneeling beside the bed, "can you sit up for a second?"

"mm. no."

"i brought you water."

"...fine. if you insist," you grumble, lifting yourself up with all the grace of a wet noodle.

he hands you the bottle and the pills. you down them obediently.

then, after a long pause: "you're too nice to me."

"someone has to be," he replies, tucking the blanket around you. "your decision-making tonight was... not ideal."

"hey."

"you were drunk. by yourself. with nobody around that you knew."

you frown, suddenly more awake. "okay, well—sorry my friends ditched me? that's not my fault."

he sighs, eyes soft. "i know. i'm not blaming you."

you grumble something incoherent and flop dramatically onto your side. "felt like you were."

"wasn't," he says gently. "just... worried."

you peek up at him, eyes squinted. "...i guess that's allowed."

"thanks for the permission," he says, and you swear you hear the tiniest smile in his voice.

he starts to stand, but your hand catches his wrist.

"hey, izuku?" he pauses, looking back at you.

you blink slowly. "you're my favorite person. like ever."

his eyes widen a little. he swallows. "...y/n—"

"'s true. dunno when it happened but i love you."

he blinks.

you blink.

"...what?" "i love you," you repeat, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "kinda figured you knew that already."

his mouth opens. nothing comes out.

it's not the first time you've told him that.

you've said it before, offhandedly—over childhood goodbyes, late-night calls, after especially rough days. but something aboiut the way you say it now is different.

it doesn't sound like a best friend.

it sounds like everything else.

"i mean," you continue, voice soft and sleepy," why else would i always call you first? or wait for you to text back before i do anything. or remember your whole ass schedule even though i don't even know mine."

he looks like he's buffering. you broke izuku midoriya.

which means the only plausible thing to do here is keep going.

"oh," you add suddenly, "and you're, like, insanely hot. in a shy, rule-following, chronic overachiever kinda way."

"y/n."

"what?"

"you're drunk."

"yeah," you agree, "but i'm also right."

he laughs under his breath, eyes warm even in the dim light. and then, gently:

"yeah. i... love you too."

your eyes widen just slightly, and he adds, a little quieter, "i just want you to say it again when you mean it sober. so i can believe it's real."

you grin, eyes fluttering shut. "i'll tell you first thing in the morning, then."

he lingers there a second longer, like he's about to say something else—but he doesn't.

just pulls the blanket over your shoulder a little higher.

and softly, almost too softly: "okay. morning, then."

۶ৎ kirishima can’t bear to see you wet and shivering, so—he does what he can.

⤷ ゛(ov): ˎˊ˗ crushing, fluff, friends but more, cheesy kirishima is a sweetheart <3

0.5k words 𓏵

The sky had opened up faster than you could blink. One second, you were leaving class under gray clouds, and the next, sheets of rain poured down, drenching the courtyard.

Of course, you’d forgotten your umbrella.

You lingered beneath the awning, hugging your bag tight to your chest.

Students with umbrellas rushed past you, voices fading under the roar of the downpour. You were about two seconds away from sprinting through the rain when a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“Hey, Y/N! You seriously gonna stand there all day?”

Your head whipped around to see Kirishima, jogging toward you with a bright red umbrella, his spiky hair already dripping wet at the tips.

He skidded to a stop, grinning at you despite the rain soaking into his shoulders.

“You don’t have one, do you?” he said, already tilting his umbrella so it covered you too.

You gave a sheepish smile. “Left it in my dorm. I thought the sky would hold out.”

He chuckled, stepping closer until his arm brushed yours. “Guess the weather decided to be unmanly today.”

Then, with zero hesitation, he held the umbrella higher over you, letting the rain pelt him instead.

“Kiri, you’re gonna get soaked,” you protested, looking up at him.

He shrugged with that easy, toothy grin that always made your heart stutter. “Doesn’t matter. I’d rather I get wet than you.”

The words slipped out of him so naturally, you almost missed the heat that crept into your cheeks.

Your chest tightened as the two of you began walking, his shoulder pressed warm and steady against yours beneath the umbrella.

The rest of the world blurred behind the curtain of rain.

Kirishima chatted about training and the new move he was working on, but his voice was softer than usual, the steady rhythm of it grounding you.

Every so often, you caught him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his grin faltering into something gentler, more vulnerable.

By the time you reached the dorms, his jacket was clinging to him, completely drenched. He shook his head, sending droplets flying everywhere.

“Kiri!” you laughed, swatting at him. “You’re soaked through.”

“Eh, worth it.” He flashed you a grin, though his cheeks were tinged pink. “I’d do it again, a hundred times, if it meant keeping you dry.”

Your breath caught. He said it so simply, like it was obvious, but the way his eyes lingered on you told a different story—like he meant more than just staying dry.

“Kiri..” you murmured, meeting his gaze. For a heartbeat, the rain and the world around you seemed to vanish.

Then, without overthinking it, you reached up, tugging the umbrella closer so it shielded him as well. “Next time, we’ll share. Got it?”

His grin softened, slow and almost shy this time. “Yeah .. sounds manly.”