âââ Ë What'd you do? Hm, I'm kinda into it. Ě !!
࣪ Ö´ÖśÖ¸âž. act i. the court of fools --- vashyuu ; he/him ; 7teen ; sfw & yandere blog ; multifandom but focuses on genshin impact - honkai: star rail - zenless zone zero - twisted wonderland - blue lock - formula 1 !!
࣪ Ö´ÖśÖ¸âž. act iii. clowning around in love --- jester's new jest ; harumasa !!
࣪ Ö´ÖśÖ¸âž. act iv. fools in paradise --- message from the courtly clowns ; do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent on another platform/website.
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much like sae, rin also canât recognize when youâre messing with him. he takes what you say very, very seriously.
youâre perched ontop of the bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, while rinâs taking a shower after coming back from practice.
youâve seen multiple videos of girls asking their clearly fit boyfriends, if they wish they were more âathleticâ, so why not try it on rin?
heâs a fulltime worldclass soccer player, goes on runs almost every morning, takes his yoga very seriously. so heâs undoubtedly extremely athletic.
and canât forget how insanely ripped he is.
so heâs the perfect victim to this question.
he comes out of the shower, towel in hand and currently drying his hair. clad in a simple t-shirt and sweats.
youâre giggling like crazy at your phone, which leads him to ask you why. âwhat are you laughing at, [name].â the sudden sound of his voice makes you jump, ân-nothing! saw something funny.â
you go to sit up straight, legs crossed and hands on your knees. and rin sits on the edge of the bed, head turned to you.
ârin.â âyeah.â âdo you ever wish you were athletic?â youâre trying not to burst out in laughter right there and then, the way his expression switches, first his face is still straight. then confusion, and then he sort of looks pissed. eyebrows furrowed and a slight scowl on his face.
âdid you hit your head?â he asks you, his eyes squinting. âno. why?â youâre trying to look as confused as him, to not let him see your true intent.
âiâm atheltic, [name]. i had a match yesterday, scored two goals out of three. does that not mean âathleticâ to you? yesterday you asked me to send you a picture of my abs, i donât think an unathletic person has abs. or do you think otherwise?â
you burst out in a fit of laughter, making him more confused than ever. were you not being serious when you dropped that question out of the blue?
â âm just messing with you rinnie! i think youâre very athletic.â you say through your laughter, and his expression switches again.
heâs sort of relieved, but also still insanely confused as to why you asked him that.
ragebaiting rin, was very succesful!
đđđđđđ'đ đđđđ: i love this prompt, also first time writing for rin so probs ooc.
Rin behind closed doors is the cutest boyfriend what if before heâs going to train you accidentally forgot to kiss him goodbye and heâs sulking about that but too shy to admit that
You didn't notice it at first.
You were still half-asleep, wrapped in the blanket, scrolling Instagram when Rin grabbed his training bag. He hesitated by the door like he always doesâ waiting.
You just put the phone away and closed your eyes, mumbling, "Good luck at training,"
A beat.
Then the door clicked shut.
Too quiet.
You sit up a second later, realization hitting you like a brick.
You forgot.
To kiss him goodbye.
The only thing he looks forward to.
By the time Rin comes back, it's late afternoon. You hear the door open, the familiar sound of his shoes being kicked off, his bag dropped a little harder than usual.
You walk out to greet him with a smile.
"Heyâ"
He walks right past you.
Not fast.
Not angry.
Just⌠pointedly ignoring you.
You blink. "Rin?"
"I'm going to shower."
His voice is flat. Too flat.
You follow him into the hallway. "Did something happen at training?"
"No."
"Did I do something?"
He stops walking and slowly, turns to look at you. "No," he says again. Then, quieter, "Why would you?"
You narrow your eyes. "Rin Itoshi, don't do that thing where you pretend you're fine when you're obviously not."
"I am fine."
"You didn't even look at me."
"I'm looking at you now."
"That doesn't count."
He clicks his tongue, clearly irritatedâbut not at you. At himself.
"Forget it."
You step closer. "Wait. Is this about this morning?"
He stiffens.
"...What about it."
You smile softly. "I forgot to kiss you goodbye."
Silence.
You reach for his sleeve, tugging it gently. "Rin."
He looks away. "It's not a big deal."
"Then why are you sulking?"
"I'm not sulking."
"You walked past me."
"I was tired."
"You didn't text me like you always do."
"...My phone died."
"You have a charger in the car."
"You're annoying."
You laugh quietly. "You waited at the door, didn't you?"
His jaw tightens.
"You were waiting for me to kiss you-"
"I wasn't waiting," he snaps, then immediately softens. "I justâ expected it, since you do it everyday."
Your heart melts.
"I didn't even realize how much I look forward to it," he mutters. "All training I kept thinking... it felt wrong."
You step fully into his space now. "Why didn't you just say something?"
He finally looks at you, eyes sharp but vulnerable. "Because it sounds stupid."
"It doesn't."
'It does," he says firmly. "And I'm not a kid."
You cup his face gently. "You're my boyfriend."
His breath stutters.
"You always kiss me before I leave," he admits quietly. "Even when you're half asleep. Today you didn't. So I kept thinking I did something wrong."
Your heart aches.
"Oh, Rin..."
You lean in and press a soft kiss on his lips. Then another. Slower. Lingering.
"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I didn't mean to forget."
He doesn't move at first.
Then his hands grip your waist like he's been holding back all day. (He has)
"Don't forget again."
You smile against his lips. "Or what?"
He huffs, embarrassed. "I'll be distracted at training."
"That's supposed to scare me?"
"Yes."
You laugh and kiss him again, deeper this time. He melts instantly, kissing you back earnestly, hugging you tighter.
"I don't need much," he murmurs. "Just that. Before I leave. So I know I'm yours."
Your voice softens. "You always are."
He sighs and buries his face in your neck.
"Then kiss me properly tomorrow."
You grin. "Yes, sir."
"Don't tease me!"
"You're adorable."
His head snaps up, face red as he fake glares at you.
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Bf Itoshi Rin! Who ruin his schedule for you. If you invite him at 8 pm to watch netflix heâll ditch his sleeping schedule for you, despite his practice at 7 am in the morning :3
Bf Itoshi Rin! Likes you to be aroundâhe likes him being around you. Thatâs why you must never decline his invite for no reason or heâll get grumpy ):<
Bf Itoshi Rin! Always acts grumpy at first, but when you tolerate his grumpyness for 5 minutes or so youâll see how silly he is.
Bf Itoshi Rin! Who told you he hates his brother but celebrates his brotherâs birthday anyway.
Bf Itoshi Rin! Whoâs first girlfriend is you! Thatâs why his parents is excited to get to know you.
Bf Itoshi Rin! Who adapts your banters and silly mannerism very easilyâyou get mad at him sometimes for doing what YOU are doing to him.
Bf Itoshi Rin! Knows where to find you whenever you gone missing (heâll probably sent a love letter on your gmail account).
Bf Itoshi Rin! Who said heâs not good with pets but your dog likes him. One time, your dog kept barking at you for holding rin so dearly because rin felt like cryingâheâs also vulnerable when it comes to you.
Requested by @t3abotog
Š 2026 by @kai-xer â all rights reserved! comments, likes, and reblog are highly appreciated. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.
Today's also the "valentine's day" but of course Rin is pretending this is just another normal day.
"This day is ridiculous," he mutters as soon as he enters the room you're currently in.
You tilt your head. "What is?"
He gives you a flat look.
"You know what."
You blink innocently.
He exhales through his nose. "Valentine's Day."
"Ohh that."
"That's," he repeats. "Pointless."
You rest your chin on your palm. "Pointless?"
"Yes." He walks a few steps closer to where you're sitting, expression calm but voice firm. "If you love someone, you love them every day. Not just one day a year because a calendar told you to suddenly act affectionate."
You nod slowly. "That's... actually very romantic."
"It's not romantic. It's obvious."
You smile softly. "So you don't like it?"
"I don't see the point."
He stops in front of you, making you look up at him.
"They were talking about it all week," he adds, irritation slipping in. "My teammates."
You fight a smile. "Oh?"
"They kept listing those stupid things. Rose day, chocolate day, hug day, kiss day." His brows knit. "Why does love need a schedule?"
You shrug lightly. "People think it's fun."
"It's inefficient."
"That's the most Rin answer possible."
"I'm being realistic."
You laugh under your breath.
His eyes flick to your lips for half a second then he immediately looks away.
"You like it?" he asks suddenly. "This day." His voice is quieter now. "Do you like it?"
You hop off the bed and step closer until you're right in front of him.
"I think loving someone every day is better," you say gently. "But," you add, voice softer, "a special day can still be nice."
He studies you carefully, like he's trying to calculate whether that was a request, complaint or a wish.
You look up at him, stunned. "You said today wasn't special."
"It isn't."
"Then what's this?"
He looks away slightly.
"I saw them talking about those 'love days.' They said you're supposed to do different things each day." He clicks his tongue. "That's annoying to me so," he continues stiffly, "I'm doing all of them today."
Your brain short-circuits.
"...What?"
He gestures lightly.
"Chocolate day." Point. "Teddy day." Point.
Then he pulls something from behind his back.
A red rose, fresh and perfect.
EVEN THOUGH HE WAS HIDING IT UNDER HIS SHIRT!
"Rose day."
He steps closer and slides his around your waist and pulls you gently into him.
"Hug day."
Your heart slams violently.
His voice lowers.
"And kiss day."
Your breathing stops as he presses his lips gently on yours.
"You forgot promise day," you whisper against his lips.
He goes quiet, then his hand tightens slightly at your back.
"I didn't forget." His forehead rests against yours. "I promise," he says softly, looking right into your eyes, "I'll love you tomorrow. And the day after. And every day after that. Not because a date tells me to." He kisses your forehead gently. "Because I want to. I don't care about Valentine's Day," he murmurs. "because I love you the same everyday."
You clutch his shirt weakly. "You're trying to kill me."
"...How?"
"You're too handsome when you're like this."
His ears tint faint pink.
"When I'm like what?"
"You're soft."
"...Shut up."
You grin.
"Make me."
He does, immediately, by kissing you.
Slowly, gripping your neck, hugging your waist, entangling his tongue with yours.
When he pulls back, his voice becomes soft, a lot softer than usual.
"I used to think this was stupid." His gaze softens just a fraction. "But turns out it's not stupid if it's with you."
Your heart officially gives up so you drop against him dramatically.
"I'm dead."
"Idiot," he murmurs, arms wrapping around you immediately.
๨ŕ§Ëâš why would sakusa kiyoomi pick cosmic energy over you?
it was just another stupid interview SAKUSA was trying to get done with. honestly, he had been dissociating (kind of) and letting his extroverted teammates take care of answering the questions that were being drawn out of the massive fishbowl in front of them. vogue japan know how to take advantage of anyone's popularity. and right now, after coming back from the olympics, kiyoomi knew the media would be relentless. at least for a little while. was it so bad he just wanted to rest and snuggle with you on your shared bed while you ramble about your day while you caressed his curls?
"ooh this is a good one" hinata cooed as he read "if you could guarantee one aspect of your game was always perfect, but you had to trade something else in return would you accept it?"
sakusa and some other frowned.
"aspect of my game?" atsumu wondered, spinning in his stool "like have a super stamina or something like that?"
"yeah! and like i guess they are asking for something like a sacrifice" komori intervened "like... you always land your serves but i don't know, you never get to eat your favorite food ever again"
it would be a lie if kiyoomi said he didn't think the question was a great one. or at least one that had him considering his answer. hoshiumi noticed "omi-kun? you have something you'd trade?"
"well, i suppose that since that super skill you'd be getting would put you in advantage, the sacrifice has to be something... huge, right?" sakusa asked, which led his teammates considering this new input.
"oooh! like never having a girlfriend or that?" bokuto chimed in "that'd be heavy!" atsumu grinned wickedly "oooh, omi. would ya take that? like super stamina but you say bye-bye to [name]? like breaking uâ"
"no. not a chance."
the finality in his words was... comical. the rest of the olympic team let out startled laughs, seeing how sakusa's mouth twisted into a pout as if the mere thought of you, his pretty girlfriend and entire world, disappearing from his life was completely unacceptable and a huge impossibility.
"he's so serious about it!" sakusa didn't understand the mockery. he scoffed, though his ears were starting to get real pink.
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â๨ŕ§âËâš sakusa kiyoomi was never a family guy until you
SAKUSA KIYOOMI whose parents and older sister were distant. he once casually mentioned to you that the last time he actually shared a dinner table with his whole family was when he was fifteen. when you asked why he just shrugged and said life had different paths for them. his mother and father were always working, his sister was ten years older and by the time he was barely surviving college, she already was expecting her firstborn.
SAKUSA KIYOOMI who learned not to wait. if dinner wasnât ready, he made it himself. if no one was home, he locked the door and went to his room to do his homework as a kid. omi-omi, who the first time you waited for him to dine together at 9pm, was stunned
SAKUSA KIYOOMI who, was nervous as shit when you met his grandmother and greeted her with a tray of cookies. because that was his mother, to him. the woman who fussed over his health constantly and sort of made him a misophobe.
SAKUSA KIYOOMI who was sweating when his grandfather asked about what you did for living, hoping who he considered his paternal figure was just as impressed as him when he found out your career path. because he taught him discipline and passion, and how to be proud of his dearest persons achievements too.
SAKUSA KIYOOMI who almost died out of suppressed laughter when you saw a picture of a younger woman in his phone, taken years ago, and got jealous thinking it was some childhood crush of him. omi, who zoomed out the photo revealing him and komori when they were was 9 years old sleeping in her lap. kiyoomi, who told you his nanny was a family friend his parents hired to babysit him and she marked his heart becoming the older sister he chose.
SAKUSA KIYOOMI whose love language (acts of service) was deeply influenced by them. kiyoomi who leaves your towels freshly folded, your cold medicine in his night stand. who prepares your meals the way you like it. because these were the ways his nanny and his grandparents loved him, so these are the ways he loves you back.
SAKUSA KIYOOMIâs nanny who teased him endlessly once he finally had the guts to introduce you over coffee. his nanny who remembered omi as a kid said his future wife would be someone that âalways carried his favorite pudding with herâ and who âliked his molesâ. his nanny, whose eyes softened when much later, you pulled out a granola bar from ur purse since he didnât like the coffee shopâs dessert options.
SAKUSA KIYOOMI, who once silently cried in your shoulder, curled in your couch while cuddling because his nuclear family didnât sent a âhappy birthdayâ message until 11:47 pm on his 25th birthday.
SAKUSA KIYOOMI the man that stayed still for a whole five minutes when, after that incident, saw you, his grandparents and his nanny in MSBY jerseys at his next home game. omi-omi who had the best game of his entire career thanks to your surprise.
SAKUSA KIYOOMIâs grandparents who waited until after your wedding to rest in peace. kiyoomi, who didnât cry at their funeral because he now had you. not as a replacement, but as his true familyâs legacy.
SAKUSA KIYOOMI who considers his nannyâs daughter his true niece. he, who loves taking pictures of you and the little creature and has an entire album.
SAKUSA KIYOOMI the man that created his own family without noticing at all, but who didnât complain. and who cried a little when he found out you also welcomed him into your family too.
â๨ŕ§âËâš where SAKUSA chooses you and devotion over reputation through⌠wikipedia
the ring that sakusa kiyoomi put on your finger weeks ago gleams quietly as it catches the soft morning sunlight peering through the cafĂŠ window. itâs the same cafĂŠ you always go to whenever you want to shake up your working from home routine.
except, itâs now one of those days where your soon-to-be husband had a rare day off, so heâs sitting next to you, his shoulder pressing yours, too focused on his tablet, reviewing game footage as his head rests on your shoulder.
âkiyoomi, i have tons of things to do, i wouldnât be paying much attention to you, babyâ you said, laptop sleeve under your arm and grabbing your keys.
âdonât care, didnât askâ sakusa answered, not giving a fuck about it. just wanting your presence, your body warmth. did you want him to die? limiting him from you his vital organ to live?
hence, why that dramatic MSBY opposite hitter is now nuzzling into you as your fingers fly through your laptop, trying to get started on your workload.
after about an hour, you take a quick break, eyes going down to his tablet, you tilt your head, curious.
âoh, are you writing that media profile they asked you for the olympics page?â you ask, and he nods before finally sitting up properly.
these were his second olympics, to say you were proud would be an understatement. your tickets and front row seats were secured even before he gave you the news. thatâs kiyoomi for you.
however, he had told you that this time, due to some mistakes made last time, the japanese volleyball association had ask each of the players on both, the men and womenâs teams to make a brief description of his profile for marketing and promotion.
your fiancĂŠ sighs âyeah, i just⌠donât really know what they want. they have my stats, my career history, what else would i write?â
âomi, your fans want little insights!â you snort, shifting in your sit, turning your body to properly face him âobviously not a bible, but small thingsâ
âwhat am i? an idol?â
you kiss his forehead moles âwith that face you couldâ he scoffs, though thereâs a dust of pink in his cheeks.
âwell, why donât you google yourself?â you suggest âsometimes wikipedia or twitter have random facts you can useâ
he opens a new tab on his browser, fingers sliding in his screen and reluctantly says âcanât believe i am listening to youâ
âyou better get used to it, itâs a lifetime agreement from now onâ you chuckle, wiggling your fingers, reminding him of the diamond marquis ring youâre wearing.
he lets out a huff, a quiet laugh. the main page loads quickly and soon, he clicks the first link that pops.
âletâs seeâŚâ he begins reading. then, silence. a slow deliberate blink, and next, a frown and pouty lips.
you crease your eyebrows noticing his reaction âkiyoomi? everything alright?â you inquire, and you canât help but looking down to his screen.
and so, you see it.
Sakusa Kiyoomi is a japanese professional volleyball player and best known as [name last name]âs fiancĂŠ. He currently plays as an Outside Hitter for the MSBY Black Jackals team andâŚ
a flicker of surprise crosses your face before pressing your lips together. you want to let out a surprise laugh.
but kiyoomi?
âwhy would they even do that?â his tone is not what you expected. itâs⌠confused. not angry, not surprised, just pure confusion.
your shoulders shake with silent laughter âoh godâ
kiyoomi doesnât react to your evident mockery, instead heâs looking like the wikipedia page personally offended him and his entire lineage.
âbabyâ you manage to voice in between laughter âcome on itâs not that serious, wikipedia pages can be altered by everyone, itâs a riskâ
itâs like your talking to a wall. you knew your boyfriend could be very dramatic in his reactions, but also, your face softened when you remember how volleyball was actually his passion. itâs must have been quite confusing people changing his wiki biography to sort of, link him directly to romance.
ânah, this will not stay that way!â he scoffs out, not mad, but incredulous. he is already clicking the edit button and as you take a sip of your forgotten coffee, you roll your eyes.
you scoot closer as he lets out a âhmph!â an approving sound paired with a satisfied nod.
Sakusa Kiyoomi, best known as [name last name]âs fiancĂŠ, is a japanese professional volleyball player. He currently playsâŚ
you choke on your coffee âkiyoomi, no!â
âkiyoomi, yesâ he disagrees, as if it was the most normal thing in the world puttin âfiancĂŠâ before his actual profession.
he shots you a look, a smirk appearing if you squint âi will not be discouraged from my true selfâ
âomi, your true self wouldnât pay our bills if that was the career you choseâ
âthe order of things in sentences matterâ he comments flatly, completely ignoring your previous statement ânow itâs accurateâ
âyou just downgraded your own careerâ
âi reordered it, thereâs a differenceâ he corrected, moving his index finger from left to right.
you catch it, eyes sparkling âa reorder that now will have the entire internet talkingâ
âhavenât we already master that issue?â
âyouâre impossibleâ
you watch the page reupload, now the edit segment bright and clear, next to his professional headshot. âand yoursâ he claims.
you laugh pressing a soft kiss on his lips âalways mineâ
he smiles against your lips and pulls back just slightly âi guess i know what to put on my olympic bioâ
âkiyoomi, noâ
he catches your lips again, mumbling âkiyoomi yes.â
âwhy would you care so much about that?â you chuckle, cupping his face, completely ignoring the cafĂŠ audienceâs soft gazes directed your way.
âbecause i chose to be your husbandâ
you go quiet for a moment.
âmy career⌠i like to think it just happened, you didnât. you found me and i chose youâ he brushes a strand of hair off your face âand decisions should be in wiki pagesâ
you lean in and kiss him a third time, slowly this time pouring all your love and attention to your soon to be husband as his hand finds the nape of your neck. when you rest your forehead against his, you softly speak.
âif you put that in your Olympics bio you will, in fact, sleep on the couch until you come back from the games. soâŚâ
he sighs defeated, repeating your words like a scolded kid âkiyoomi noâ
you kiss his forehead âkiyoomi no, indeedâ.
for this req ! ⌠â other hab!kiyoomi works here and here
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Katsuki has already turned seventeen by the time you wake up from your coma. Despite the late nights he spends at the hospital by your side, when you wake up, he is inevitably, at school. You wake up to Mitsuki Bakugo holding your hand.
Tags/CW: Bakugo x fem! Reader, high school sweethearts, estab! relationship, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, reader in a coma after the war, class 2-A is a soft menace, mom (in law lmao) Mitsuki is mothering, spoilers for season 8.
Despite it being hard to accept at the state you find yourself in, or even realise it at first, Mitsuki is the one by your bedside when you wake up.
For a second youâre convinced youâre dreaming. The room is too bright, the sheets too stiff, and Katsukiâs mom is sitting there like she fought her way past three nurses and a steel door just to sit and stare at you. Which, knowing her, she probably did.
Her arms are crossed, but her foot is tapping like sheâs been waiting a long time. Like sheâs been worried. And that solemn look on her face is screaming an apology you donât recognise yet.
ââBout time,â she mutters, voice sharp but thin around the edges. âYou scared the hell out of us, kid.â
Your throat tightens as you glance, puzzled, around the room. Itâs empty, aside from Mitsuki's chair, your bed, and the iv attached to the tender inside of your elbow. No friends, no parents, not a begrunting boyfriend⌠just Mitsuki and a hospital room you donât recognise.
In a swift movement, she clasps your hand inside her palms. âIâm sorry sweetheart. Your parents couldnât make it to Japan yet.â she says and you blink at her.Â
The lump in your throat starts bubbling in pain. Your lip quivers next, eyes watering at the fraction of a second. The moment you try to move, the dull ache in your ribs reminds you why youâre here in the first place.
âIâm so sorry,â
You try to speak, but find your lips feel like theyâre glued together. It hurts when you pry them and it hurts even worse when you try to speak.
âKaââ
Panic ensues at the sound of your voice. How long have you been here? You donât even recognise your own voice. Where you could hear softness, you now hear raspiness, broken sounds that canât form a word.
But still, you want to askâThe last thing you remember is watching Katsuki fall to the ground with his chest torn, you lurching towards Shigaraki with all you had and white hot pain everywhere in your body.
âKatsâKaahââ
Mitsukiâs eyes flick to your abdomen, the monitors attached to you, then back to you again. Softer, barely âKatsuki? He usually doesnât leave until he passes out sitting up. Bratâs got stubbornness.â
âMissâMitsukâMitsuki, my mâmom,â
The sound rips out of you like gravel dragged across concrete, and Mitsuki is already movingâ one hand on your shoulder, the other hovering like she wants to fix something she canât reach.
âHey, heyâ donât force it,â she says, voice dropping into that hushed, frantic register only mothers have when something hurts their kid. Or a kid who might as well be theirs.
She reaches for the small cup of ice chips on the tray next to your bed, scooping a few with the spoon and pressing it gently to your lips. âJust this, sweetheart. Slow.â
The cold hits your tongue, sharp and clean, and for a moment itâs the only thing keeping you together. Everything else feels like itâs drifting âyour memories, your breath, the distant echo of Nejire screaming your name before everything went dark.
Mitsuki watches you swallow, her jaw tight, eyes shining with things she will never say out loud.
âYouâve been out for a few months,â she adds quietly. âMasaru is trying to get ahold of your folks, along with the doctors but⌠you know how time zones are. And⌠circumstances.â Her mouth twists like she hates how uptight sheâs being. Like practiced softness physically pains her. âWe didnât want you waking up alone.â
Your chest pulls tight. It shouldnât mean as much as it does. But it does.
Your fingers clutch weakly at the blanket. âKââ The name falls apart in your throat again.
Mitsuki seems to understand anyway.
âHeâs alive,â she says firmly. âHeâs at school and heâs healing, but heâs alive. Stubborn little shit tried to pretend he wasnât feeling okay just so they wouldnât kick him out of your room last night. Heâs been visiting everyday.â
Your breath shudders. Relief hits so hard you feel dizzy.
âAndâ just so you donât freak out laterââ Mitsuki adds, rubbing your hand with her thumb in a rare, almost guilty motion, âhe might start crying a lot.â
That makes you freeze.
Mitsuki sighs, leaning back in the chair like the confession took something out of her. She stops herself from telling you the doctors had announced to everyone that you would probably not make it, not too long ago.
âDonât tell him I said that. Heâll yell at both of us.â
She glances toward the door, then back at you. âHeâs gonna be pissed you woke up without him here. Believe me. But, weâll tell him after classes are over. You okay with that sweetheart?â
You nod, or at least you think you do. Your head barely moves, just a slow dip that makes the world tilt a little. Youâre not sure if youâre agreeing or just reacting to the tenderness in her voice â something youâve never quite heard directed at you like this, so softly, before.
âGood,â Mitsuki murmurs, like she was bracing for you to argue. Her hand squeezes yours gently, thumb brushing over the back in a slow, steady rhythm that feels like itâs meant to keep you anchored.
You swallow again, rough and painful. The word âclassesâ sticks in your mind like a burr. Katsuki is⌠at school. The school is alright if thatâs the case, and maybe, your friends are too, your teachers, All Might. Thereâs so much you want to ask, but such little strength inside you.
Mitsuki watches your face carefully. âHe wanted to skip,â she says, rolling her eyes as if the memory frustrates her. âSaid he didnât care about his damn education if you wereââ She cuts herself off. Too sharp. Too honest.
Another small, guilty sigh. âAnyway. We made him go. The teachers insisted. Kid was a wreck. No sleep, no food⌠I swear he almost blew up a vending machine because someone told him to âkeep his chin up.ââ
Despite the pain, a weak ghost of a laugh bubbles in your chest â a tiny sound, but it pulls at your ribs like something tearing.
Mitsuki immediately notices. âEasy. Easy, sweetheart,â she whispers, leaning in, steadying you with a hand on your shoulder. âYou donât have to talk yet. You donât have to do anything yet.â
But you want to. You want to ask what happened, how bad it was, whether Katsukiâs really okay or just putting on a front because thatâs what he does when the world is falling apart around him.
You try again, voice scraping out of you like rough smoke: âHâhowâŚ?â
She shakes her head fast, stopping you before the sentence can hurt you more. âLater. When Katsukiâs here.â Her voice softens, unbearably so. âHe deserves to hear you first.â
Your breath stutters, the weight of that landing somewhere deep and tender.
Mitsuki reaches up and brushes a loose strand of hair from your forehead. The gesture is so gentle it barely feels real.
âWeâll tell him after school,â she repeats softly. âHeâll come running the second he hears. And heâs gonna be loud, and dramatic, and probably hug you too hard. But he needs this. He needs you.â
Her voice cracks just a little on that last word. Barely noticeable, unless youâre looking for it. And you are.
âRest now,â she adds, settling back into her chair but not letting go of your hand.
______
Later that evening, the hallway outside your room is louder than it should be for a hospital â muffled bickering, restless footsteps, a sharp whisper thatâs definitely Kaminari complaining heâs been standing too long. With your eyes barely opening from your earlier slumber, you can hear Kirishima gently shushing him. Someone â Mina, probably â keeps insisting they should âjust peek in real quick because what if sheâs awake?âÂ
You also catch the hissed argument thatâs delivered as a response âDude, stopâ she might be asleep again!â and âIâm not stopping, you stop!â
Their silhouettes shuffle under the doorframeâs faint light, shadows overlapping like they canât decide whether to crowd closer or bolt down the hall.
You blink slow, the world tilting for a moment, and the ceiling swims into focus. Your throat is dry. Your body feels like itâs made of bandages and cement. But your brain? Your brain catches up just enough to realize:
Theyâre here. All of them. A soft exhale escapes youâ barely a sound, but apparently loud enough for the enhanced senses of teens with superpowers.
Mitsuki nods her head towards the door and chuckles. âThey canât wait to see you,â The commotion outside stops all at once, like someone hit pause. Thenâ
âDid you hear that?!â
âKaminari, shut upââ
âWait, waitâ I think sheâs awakeââ
âKatsukiâs gonna kill us if we go inââ
âOh my god. Just. Check!â
Kirishimaâs voice breaks through the chaos; firm, gentle, leader-of-the-chaos-crew mode âGuys. Calm down. Weâll knock first.â
Thereâs a beat of silence and then three different knuckles rap on the door at the exact same time. Your chest shakes with a tiny, pained laugh thatâs followed by a thunderous cough. The whispering begins again immediately.
âBroâ I said one person should knock!â
âThat wasnât me!â
âYou literally have the loudest knuckles, Sero!â
âHow do you even know thatââ
Someone sighs. Hard. You recognise the sound as Izuku, doing that tight little anxious inhale before he tries to be responsible.
âShould I⌠um⌠should I ask Recovery Girl if weâre allowedâ?â
âNo, if Kacchan shows up and weâre gone, heâll blast us into spaceââ
âOh heâs definitely gonna show upââ
You try shifting, just enough to look toward the door. A small movement, but enough to tug at something deep in your gut. You wince, which apparently sends the hallway into frenzy.
And before they manage to organize themselves, one brave soul reaches for the door handle.
Minaâs whisperâundoubtedly its hersâcuts through the noise âOkay, on threeââ
You have exactly one second to process that, and tighten your hold around Mitsukiâs hand as hard as you can, before a hand curls around the knob and another, much sharper voice snaps from down the hall.
âTouch that door and I swear to god youâre dead.â
Every single voice outside vanishes. You donât even need to see him to know who said it. Katsuki.
Last time you laid eyes on him he was in a puddle of his own blood, chest torn, right arm destroyed. The thought alone is making your jaw tremble.
Your stomach flips; your eyes do that stupid thing where they well up so much that they sting and your heart kicks into a frantic rhythm, strong enough that the monitor beside you responds with a panicked series of beeps.
For a fragment, you come to believe this is a dream. An afterlife experience. Some sick and twisted purgatory. Some strange, cruel limbo replaying the moments before everything went black.
Mitsuki reacts before you do. She leans in, her free hand hovering near your shoulder as if she can physically hold you together while the monitor continues its frantic beeping. âEasy,â she murmurs, voice low. âBreathe, sweetheart. Youâre fine.â
Her thumb presses gently into the back of your hand, grounding you.
The footsteps outside slow, the scrape of rubber soles against the linoleum deliberate now, controlled in that way Katsuki walks when heâs trying to stop himself from running. Thereâs a muffled scuffleâsomeone tripping over someone else during their attempt to scramble out of his path.
The doorknob turns. Not violently, but slowly. Carefully. Like heâs afraid the world behind it might shatter if he enters too fast.
The door opens halfway, and Katsuki steps inside.
Heâs out of breath, but it's the kind where heâs trying very hard not to show. His hair, shorter than you remember, is a mess from whatever fight he had with the wind on the way here. His uniform shirt is wrinkled, sleeves pushed up his forearms in uneven rolls, and his tie is gone entirely.
But none of that is what gets you. Itâs the way he stops actually. Abruptly.
And not because Mitsuki is in his way or because your friends are whisper-squabbling just outside the door. He stops because he sees you.
Awake.
His eyes widen first, a stunned flicker of disbelief that washes over his face before he can hide it. Then everything in him seems to go slack for a moment â shoulders dropping, jaw unclenching, the tension dissolving so suddenly it looks like his legs might give out.
âNo fucking way,â he breathes, so quietly it barely reaches the room. His gaze flits across your face, ignoring his motherâs plea for decent language.
Whatever strength he had walked in with drains from his posture all at once. His breath catches on a sound too close to a sob, and he stumbles two steps forward before genuinely stopping himself, like heâs afraid he might do the wrong thing and make you hurt again.
The monitor chooses that exact moment to spike again, a sharp, accusing beep-beep-beep echoing through the walls.
Katsuki flinches, just barely. His eyes flash to the machine, then to your hand clutching Mitsukiâs, then back up to you. Something like guilt â real, aching guilt â tightens his expression. His head jerks toward yours and in the same instant he looks completely guttedâlike the beeping is some damning confirmation that youâre in pain because of him, that all those months of him replaying the footage of you almost getting torn apart in half, ignoring every warning from people who told him not to, all led to this moment right here: you trembling, terrified, trying to hold yourself together.
He tries to say your name, but it dissolves into a choked gasp. Tears are already spilling, hot and unguarded, not even wiped away. Katsuki Bakugoâwho never criesâcanât stop crying.
Instinct drags you forward. You try to sit up, to reach for him, anything to close the distance, but the muscles in your abdomen seize. A bolt of pain rips through you so sharply your vision whites out, and you collapse back into the bed with a strangled breath.
âStay still!â Mitsuki catches your shoulder before you can tear something, her voice shaking now too. âSweetheart, you canât moveââ
Your hand slips from hers anyway, desperate to get to him.
âHeyââ His voice cuts off, a sob and cracks, embarrassing him. He swallows hard, trying again. âHey. Take it easy, you dummy.â
He says it softly. Too softly for it to be an insult.
Katsuki kneels swiftly beside the bed, and his scarred hand hovers over yours.Â
When he finally touches your hand, itâs feather-light, trembling with the same fear and relief burning in his eyes. He doesnât grip, doesnât hold too tight, doesnât let go either. He rests his palm over yours, as if heâs anchoring himself to you while afraid that even the slightest pressure might hurt you.
You notice heâs holding a flower inside his other hand. Your eyes widen at the sight and he looks down at his hand too, muttering âItâs for you. A âget well soonââ
âKatsuâtsukâkiâ you breathe out, shakingly.
Your fingers twitch, wanting to wrap around his hand, to pull him closer, to fix the broken edges of him the way heâs holding onto you. You try to shift, to ease closer, but your abdomen flares with pain and you freeze, groaning softly.
He freezes too, instantly still, and looks at you with wide, frantic eyes. âHey⌠hey, hey, IâIâm sorry,â he whispers, voice cracking, almost pleading.
Then, slowly, he adjusts himself so he can lean against you without putting weight on your ribs. His hand over yours flexes, releases, flexes again, as if he canât decide whether to grip or just stay connected to you.
His tears fall freely now, soaking your fingers, and the sound of him crying forces tears to come out of your eyes too.
All you can do is squeeze his hand back, as much as your pain will allow, and whisper his name again.Â
He takes it, eve though his own hand aches like itâs being pierced, because the touch is not just an ember that youâre alive. Itâs the undeniable fact that youâre awake.
And Katsuki is just so, so happy that this one good thing happens to him, he doesnât even mind that the rest of the class storms inside minutes later and everyone sees him crying.
Katsuki Bakugo Masterlist
~All rights reserved: @/strawberry-nugget, 2025. Please do not copy, over write or steal my work //
Likes and reblogs are so appreciated but if you you liked this you can let me know in the comments <3
colorblind panic, twin confusion, one accidental confession, and a boy folding faster than a lawn chair in a typhoon.
wc: 1.4k request, i love osamu
i was actually struggling so much with my taglist that itâs crazy to have to go through them every upload đ§đťââď¸
the gym smells like varnish, sweat, and destiny wearing a cheap wig.
inarizaki after practice is a zoo that learned how to jump serve. shoes squeal. someone yells about lost tape. the echo turns everything into a rumor. to you, the whole place is grayscale soup, shadows stacking on shadows, sound doing most of the heavy lifting. people forget colorblindness doesnât mean blurry. it just means the world decided to be dramatic and took away the highlighters.
youâre clutching your phone like it owes you money.
today is the day. the big day. the day you tell yourself in the mirror, out loud, that youâre not going to die from a confession. your heart, meanwhile, is beating like itâs trying to qualify for nationals without you.
osamu miya is the problem. the solution. the entire syllabus.
youâve rehearsed. youâve practiced in the shower. youâve practiced while walking. youâve practiced while eating rice and nearly choked because your brain went, what if he laughs. what if he says thanks like a customer. what if he thinks youâre joking. what ifâ
no. no spiraling. thatâs why youâre here. atsumu will help. atsumu always has opinions, even when nobody asked. especially then.
you spot him across the court. same height, same build, same posture that says twin. hair? irrelevant. your eyes offer you two identical silhouettes and say good luck.
you jog over, heart in your throat, brain switching to emergency mode.
âatsumu,â you say, too loud, too urgent, grabbing his sleeve because if you donât anchor yourself you might float into the ceiling. âi need help. like. now-help.â
the twin looks down at your hand, then your face. thereâs a pause. a suspicious pause.
you barrel on before the universe can stop you.
âi need help confessing to osamu.â
silence drops like someone unplugged the gym.
somewhere, a volleyball thumps once and rolls away, abandoned.
the twin in front of you blinks.
once.
twice.
you donât notice. youâre already pacing in a tight circle, words spilling like you shook a vending machine too hard. âi mean i know itâs dumb, and i know i shouldnât ask you because youâre his brother and thatâs probably illegal in some countries, but i canât do this alone. my chest feels like thereâs a marching band in it. and heâs soâ heâs justâ he looks at me like iâm something he already decided on, and thatâs terrifying, and i keep thinking i should say something casual but then my mouth wants to say something unhinged like please marry me or please never leave, and those are not first-confession words, right?â
you finally stop and look up.
the twinâs mouth is doing something strange. not smiling. not frowning. something feral-adjacent. like a fox just realized the henhouse door is open.
âya want advice,â he says slowly, voice softer than you expected, âon how to confess. to osamu.â
âyes,â you say, nodding hard. âplease. youâre my last hope. donât tell him iâm asking you this. i will simply pass away.â
another pause.
he lifts your hand off his sleeve very gently. like it matters. like itâs fragile. he doesnât let go immediately. just adjusts your grip so your fingers are curled around his wrist instead, thumb brushing bone.
âya sure about this,â he asks.
âyes.â
âreal sure.â
âyes!â
âya canât tell twins apart today?â
you squint. âi never can. not unless you stand next to each other. you know this.â
he exhales. a laugh tries to escape and gets swallowed whole.
âalright,â he says. âiâll help.â
relief floods you so hard your knees wobble. you squeeze his wrist without thinking. âthank you. thank you. okay. okay. what do i say. do i compliment him first? is that weird? i like his hands. is it creepy to say i like his hands. theyâre justâ they look like they know what theyâre doing.â
his grip tightens.
âhandsâre good,â he says, voice gone rough around the edges. âmeans ya noticed.â
âi notice everything,â you say miserably. âthatâs the problem.â
he tilts his head, studying you like youâre a puzzle heâs already solved but wants to admire anyway.
âtell him the truth,â he says. âsimple. honest. donât dress it up too much. he ainât the type that needs fireworks.â
âbut i feel like fireworks,â you whisper.
something dark and pleased flickers across his expression.
âthen say that,â he murmurs. âsay beinâ around him makes things loud in your chest. say ya chose him. people like beinâ chosen.â
you nod, absorbing it like gospel. âokay. okay. and then what if he says he doesnât feel the same.â
the gym feels colder.
he steps closer. your toes nearly touch. he smells like soap and sweat and something warm and grounding. food, maybe. comfort.
âhe wonât,â he says, too sure.
you laugh weakly. âyou donât know that.â
he leans down so his forehead almost touches yours.
âi do,â he says. âtrust me.â
your heart stutters. you swallow.
âokay,â you breathe. âokay. iâm gonna do it. iâll go find him.â
he doesnât move.
you look up. âuh. are you gonnaââ
âno need,â he says. âheâs right here.â
the words take a second to land. they slide around your brain like marbles.
then click.
your stomach drops through the floor.
slowly, painfully, you look at his face again. really look. the curve of his mouth. the steadiness in his eyes. the way heâs holding you like he already knows where you fit.
âwait,â you say. âwait. youâreââ
âosamu,â he finishes for you, smiling now. âhey.â
the gym comes back in a rush. sound crashes in. blood roars in your ears.
you make a strangled noise that might be a scream trying to become a word.
âiâ i thought you wereâ iâm so sorryâ i didnâtââ
he chuckles, low and fond, and cups your cheek before you can combust. his thumb brushes under your eye, grounding, steady.
âitâs alright,â he says. âkinda perfect, actually.â
âi just asked you how to confess to yourself,â you whisper, mortified.
âya did.â
âthatâs the most embarrassing thing thatâs ever happened to me.â
ânah,â he says. âmost romantic.â
you stare at him.
he waits. patient. like heâs been waiting a long time.
your heart decides to be brave without consulting you.
âokay,â you say, voice shaking but clear. âfine. iâll continue.â
you take a breath so deep it feels like it scrapes your ribs.
âi like you,â you say. âi like you a lot. being around you feels like my life gets turned up. like everythingâs louder and better and scarier. i think about you when i shouldnât. i choose you even when i donât mean to. and iâm scared, but i donât want to be quiet about it anymore.â
the gym is silent again.
osamuâs face goes very still.
then his hands slide to your waist, firm, certain, like there was never another option.
âgood,â he says softly. âi was hopinâ yaâd say that.â
you blink. âyou were?â
âbeen hopinâ,â he admits. âfor a while.â
he leans in, forehead resting against yours, breath warm. âi was already yours. ya just caught up.â
your laugh comes out wet and shaky. âthatâs not fair.â
ânever said i played fair,â he murmurs.
he kisses you then. slow. careful. like heâs savoring something he cooked himself. the world narrows to the press of his mouth, the way his thumb traces your jaw, the way his other hand anchors you like you might drift away if he lets go.
when he pulls back, your legs feel like suggestions.
âso,â he says, eyes bright. âweâre confessinâ, yeah?â
you nod, dazed. âyeah.â
âgood.â he brushes his nose against yours. âiâm keepinâ ya.â
thereâs something in his tone. something possessive and warm, like a blanket that also locks the door.
you should be nervous.
you just feel safe.
later, when the gym empties and the lights dim, osamu walks you out, fingers laced with yours like itâs obvious. like itâs always been this way. at the door, atsumu squints at you, then at his brother, then groans.
âseriously,â atsumu says. âi leave for five minutes.â
osamu grins and pulls you closer.
âshe got the better twin,â he says.
you laugh, leaning into him, grayscale world suddenly feeling very full.
and somewhere deep in his chest, something settles, satisfied, already planning a future where you never have to tell twins apart again because youâll always know where you belong.
n: now, do not mind that things sound a lil dark, idk what came over me to add some possessive tones in there.