Latest Posts by see-the-thrill - Page 2

currently thinking about dante sparda who’s a feminist, 6’3, built—and oh, did i mention feminist?

“say, dante, what’s your opinion on men’s rights ?”

“irrelevant.”

dante doesn’t miss the slight pause you make before continuing to stir your drink. he sits in the booth across from you, enzo munching on fries opposite him as he sneaks a sip of his sundae.

“yer joking !” enzo says between belches. “something wrong with ya kiddo ? what do you mean men’s rights are irrelevant ?!”

but dante isn’t listening. he’s more concerned about the gap between your lips & coffee cup, the way you tilt it slightly above your mouth so as to not stain the glass with your gloss. your lips tug into a pout when you find the rim stained in coke pink regardless. you pull out a napkin & wipe it with a frown. cute.

“well, as a six three, employed and financially stable male,” dante clears his throat, smug, “i can’t help but turn my focus to more important things. for example, the widening gap between men and women’s wages. and we can’t forget the rising prices of feminine hygiene products, of course.”

enzo wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve. he doesn’t miss the way dante’s pupils seem to flit over to you every now and then. he clicks his tongue,

“kid, please, y’know she hasn’t even looked at ya, right?”

“she will.”

you continue to scroll through your phone.

but dante takes your silence as intrigue.

“anyways,” dante pauses as if searching for the words, “i just think it’s important to raise awareness—”

“yer raisin’ my freakin’ blood pressure.”

dante shoots him a glare. “i just think that, as a six foot four male, it’s my duty to raise awareness about the issues women face and the obvious gender bias in america’s modern day economy.”

“y’said six three before, kid—wait, what’s yer’ height gotta do with anything ?!”

as if on cue, your teaspoon clatters to the ground, and dante, ever the feminist, is quick to lean down to pick it up—rattling the table and spilling enzo’s fries in the process.

“hey! watch it—“

“your spoon, lady,”

you blink. dante’s taken his time to wipe the spoon clean & present it with a napkin. you hesitate a little before obliging with a murmur, “thanks..?”

“you’re welcome,” he says smoothly, relaxing into the booth seat. “no woman should ever have to bend over in a skirt. i mean—unless she wants to. then it’s her choice. her feminine power.”

“oh !”

enzo chokes on a fry. you stare at dante for a beat too long & he can’t tell if you’re confused or interested, but dante has an ego bigger than his head so he decides upon the latter.

“say, lady, don’t you agree that men should always pay on the first date ?”

you raise a brow. “the first ?”

dante waves his hands. “all, really. i only mention the first because i know some strong, independent women prefer to pay too. i respect that. i respect all women, really.”

“right. and is this your way of offering to pay for my food ?”

dante’s pupils shift to your table. only now does he realize you’ve ordered the most expensive french breakfast on the menu, as well as a drink too milky brown to cost the same as your average cappuccino. his wallet aches heavy in his pocket. “with pleasure ! lemme just get my wallet out…hope i didn’t leave it in the hellcat…”

“huh? wasn’t our uber a toyota?”

dante bares his teeth, ready to strangle enzo when you giggle—

“oh, gosh,” you sniffle, wiping tears, “that’s enough, you two are hilarious.”

clearing your throat, you raise your hand to reveal the diamond settled on your finger. “i’m sure you’re lovely and all, but i’m happily engaged.”

“that’s okay! i support women having multiple streams of happiness—ow !”

dante rubs at his shin as you continue. “that’s nice for you, but i’m fine with my fiancé.” you set some cash on the table and dust your skirt off, standing up to leave. “thank you for the laugh, though, gentlemen.”

you wave them goodbye and make your exit.

“God, i love women.”

“seek help,” enzo mutters, as he sneaks a sip from dante’s drink again.

© 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈 ー do not edit, copy, translate or re-upload.

Bakugo doesn’t notice it at first. Not until one morning, when he walks into class and sees you sitting at your desk, head resting on your arms. You look tired. More than usual. Dark circles under your eyes, the slight puffiness, like you had been crying.

Something twists in his chest. He likes it.

He doesn’t know why, but the sight of you like this, vulnerable, affected, satisfies something deep inside him. It means you still care. That even if you’ve been ignoring him, even if you’ve been acting like you’re fine, you aren’t.

And that means… you haven’t moved on.

The thought settles in his mind, dark and selfish. He should feel guilty. Should feel bad that you’re clearly hurting.

But instead, he feels something close to relief.

Because it means you still think about him. That even after everything, he is still the one lingering in your mind. Not anyone else.

Him.

And for now, that’s enough.

But then—

"Are you okay?"

Midoriya’s voice breaks through his thoughts.

And just like that, the relief turns to rage.

Bakugo watches, eyes narrowing, as Midoriya crouches beside your desk. His brows are furrowed in concern, his voice soft, too soft. And you? You look up at him, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, just didn’t sleep well."

Liar.

Midoriya doesn’t believe it either. He pulls something out of his bag, his notebook. "Here, I copied the notes from yesterday. You missed a lot."

You blink, surprised. Then, a genuine smile blooms across your face.

And Bakugo hates that.

Hates the way Midoriya makes you smile. Hates the way he’s looking at you, like you’re precious. Hates that you’re letting him.

It doesn’t stop there.

At lunch, you sit with Midoriya and the others instead of the usual squad. Bakugo doesn’t care. He doesn’t. Except he can hear you laughing. Can see the way Midoriya nudges your tray closer when you barely touch your food. Can see how you lean into him when he whispers something to you.

And worst of all, he sees the way Midoriya looks at you.

It’s the same way you used to look at him.

The rumors start soon after.

"Did you hear? Midoriya might like her" "I mean, have you seen them lately? They’re always together." "Honestly… kinda cute, don’t you think?"

The words slip through the classroom like a slow-moving poison.

Bakugo isn’t even trying to listen, but the whispers reach him anyway, each one pressing into his skull like a dull, persistent ache.

His fingers twitch. Then curl. Then clench into fists so tight, his nails bite into his palms.

Why does it bother him?

Why does his jaw tighten every time he sees you together?

Why does it feel like a punch to the gut when you walk into class and don’t even look at him?

Why does it piss him off so much when he catches Midoriya blushing because of you?

—

The breaking point comes on a normal day.

Bakugo’s already irritated, he doesn’t even know why anymore. Everything just pisses him off. The way Kirishima laughs. The way Denki’s chewing too loud. The way you are standing so damn close to Midoriya near the lockers.

Then, Midoriya reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

It’s a small gesture. Barely anything. But it makes something in Bakugo snap.

Before he even realizes it, he’s grabbing your wrist, yanking you away.

"We need to talk."

You stumble but quickly regain your footing, yanking your hand out of his grip. "What the hell is your problem?"

"What the hell is yours?" Bakugo snaps back. His eyes are burning. "You and Deku. Why the hell are you always with him?"

You scoff, crossing your arms. "I don’t see how that’s any of your business."

"You—" He grits his teeth. "You don’t even wait for me after training anymore. You don’t—"

And that’s when you laugh.

It’s bitter. Cold.

"Bakugo, are you serious?" Your voice is steady, but your eyes, there’s something sharp in them. "You knew I liked you, didn’t you?"

He freezes.

You tilt your head, studying him. "You knew. And you let me believe I had a chance."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Did you ever care?" you whisper.

Bakugo doesn’t answer.

Can’t.

Because the truth is sitting in his throat like a stone, too heavy to swallow.

You watch him, waiting. Just hoping a little that maybe, just maybe, he’ll say something that makes this all worth it.

But he doesn’t.

He just stands there, fists clenched, teeth grit, jaw locked too tight and, nothing.

And that’s when you know.

You exhale, something in your shoulders loosening. Not relief. More like… exhaustion. Like the last bit of hope you had has finally withered away.

"That’s what I thought."

You turn to leave, but for a second, just a second, you hesitate. Like you’re waiting. Like you’re giving him one last chance.

But Bakugo stays silent.

So you exhale, something in your shoulders loosening. Not relief. Just exhaustion. Then, you walk away.

Bakugo doesn’t stop you.

Doesn’t reach out. Doesn’t say a damn thing.

Just stands there, watching as you disappear down the hall, watching as you walk out of his reach.

And this time, you don’t look back.

This time, you won’t come back. Part 1

Ex-Husband! Midoriya

a bit of angst, Midoriya is a sweetheart, happy ending

Ex-husband Midoriya! who cried with you the night you had asked for the divorce. who begged on his knees for you to rethink your decision, but your mind was made up

Ex-husband Midoriya! who still sends you flowers on your birthday

Ex-husband Midoriya! who kept all of the miscellaneous items from your previous dates, printed photos and put it in a box to look back on when he felt like reminiscing

Ex-husband Midoriya! who still follows you on the only social media that you have and gets worried when you stop posting for long periods of time

Ex-husband Midoriya! who bumps into you 3 years after the divorce and learns that you run your own hero agency

Ex-husband Midoriya! who moves from his current agency to yours (he misses you bruh). you, who can’t say no to the rising #1 Hero, let him join after much convincing from your staff

Ex-husband Midoriya! who asks you to be his date to the U.A. reunion although you mentioned how it would be weird, knowing that all of your friends know you’re divorced, he assured you it would be just as friends (even though he wanted you to be more than that)

Ex-husband Midoriya! who asks you to dance, and you let it slip out that dancing with him again reminded you of your wedding day

Ex-husband Midoriya! looks at you with a soft expression and glances down at your lips. you take notice of this before leaning in; sealing your lips together

…

the rest of the U.A gang looking at the two of you with tears in their eyes. they missed you two being together!

Bakugou Katsuki is completely wrapped around his girlfriend’s finger.

Sure, he tries to act all cool and indifferent in front of his friends, pulling off that tough, angry, and mean guy routine. But deep down, this man would melt in a second for his girlfriend. He’d fall to his knees just to see her smile.

Today, Bakugou Katsuki is out with his friend Kirishima, shopping for Kirishima’s girlfriend’s birthday party. Why did Katsuki agree to come? Because you were away traveling, and he was utterly bored and lonely without you by his side.

"Hey, have we met before?"

The question didn’t even register in his mind. In fact, Katsuki didn’t hear it at all. His mind assumed the question was meant for someone else nearby. He was genuinely surprised when, out of nowhere, a woman stepped in front of him with a soft, shy smile.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to say hi while I had the chance."

Katsuki quickly looked to the side, hoping to spot his friend, but to his dismay, he realized he was completely alone in this awkward moment.

"Uh, right," he muttered, cringing inwardly. What the hell? Why am I even talking to her right now?

The woman giggled, her fingers reaching out to place a hand on his chest while she leaned in a little too close, invading his personal space.

Instinctively, Katsuki stepped back, his heart immediately sinking. Oh hell nah.

"Okay, back up." He shot her a sharp glance and turned to walk away. But just as he did, he heard a voice from behind him.

"Oh, come on. She ain’t that pretty for you to turn me, this, down, is she?"

“She is that pretty, you—” Katsuki grumbled under his breath, shaking his head. He didn’t dare say it out loud—after all, his mom could be lurking nearby—but he couldn’t help but mutter the insult as he walked away, his heart set on getting back to the one person who mattered.

Three days later, you returned home. The second Katsuki saw you walking toward him at the airport, his whole demeanor softened. The tightness in his shoulders melted away, and a smile so wide spread across his face that it made his heart flutter. Without a second thought, he opened his arms wide, waiting for you to run into them.

"Hi, mama," he whispered, his voice thick with longing.

You rushed into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist, your arms clinging to his shoulders as if you never wanted to let go. You giggled when you felt Katsuki bury his face in your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

"You okay, Kats?" You pulled back slightly to look at his face, your heart fluttering at the lovesick gaze in his eyes. He nodded silently, his usual grumpy nature nowhere to be found. Instead, he gently lowered you back to the ground, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, as if to reassure you that everything was right with the world again.

Kirishima stood a few feet away, laughing quietly at the sight of his best friend. The contrast between the Katsuki who’d been grumpy and distant while you were gone and the Katsuki who now held you in his arms—radiating nothing but joy—was impossible to miss. He smiled softly, realizing that there was no one else who could make Katsuki shine like that.

Everyone knew that Bakugou Katsuki was absolutely smitten—utterly, hopelessly in love with you.

fashion killa

chapter two ; and fall into you

[nsfw] — smut (18+) ; bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 20,014 — read on ao3 — read part one on tumblr

tags: strangers to lovers, friends with benefits, pro hero bakugou katsuki, explicit language & sexual content, aged-up characters, porn with plot, model!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, bakugou is a soft yearning idiot who i want to eat up, kirishima eijirou is a good friend, not beta read!

summary:

Fashion Week was supposed to be simple-walk the runway, collect your check, and, if all went according to plan, spend the night with Pro Hero Dynamight. Just a little fun. Nothing more. But getting rid of Bakugou Katsuki proves to be harder than slipping out of a too-tight sample size.

Or, in which a one-night stand with one of Japan's most famous men turns into a relentless game of cat and mouse-and the worst part? You don't hate it.

notes:

the final chapter is here! thank you so much for all the love on the first chapter—it really means a lot to me. this was supposed to go up on sunday, but i didn’t like the ending, so i changed it last minute lol. i hope you guys like it and that it lives up to your expectations. thank you in advance, and happy reading!

enjoy! :D

Things get stranger after that night, but not in a way you could have anticipated. 

You and Katsuki seem to grow closer, slipping into each other’s lives with an ease that feels both natural and unsettling. It's not what you expected. You thought things would stay casual. But there’s a shift now—something in the way you reach for your phone more often, his name lighting up the screen with more frequency.

It starts with simple things. He calls you more, which surprises you because Katsuki’s never been one for chit-chat, but his voice on the other end of the line feels steady, grounding. You catch yourself waiting for those calls, anticipating the sound of his gruff voice grumbling about some villain he had to deal with or asking how your day went. It's not just calls either. Texts come in, pictures too. You send him photos of you in a photoshoot, all glammed up in haute couture, and he replies with short, dry comments, ‘Looking good,’ or ‘Too fancy.’ But you can tell he's looking, really looking. You send pictures from the gym, hair tied back, sweat glistening on your skin. And in return, Katsuki sends you his own pictures. They’re blurry sometimes, like he doesn’t know how to properly frame a shot, and he always scowls in them, half his face obscured. 

He grumbles, “Ain’t good at this photo crap,” but you can see the effort. It’s adorable, especially when he sends you pictures from bed, messy hair and bare chest, a hint of vulnerability in the way the camera captures him. You wonder if he realizes how soft he looks.

You start spending more time together too—more than you’d planned for. It’s not always about the sex now, though that’s still a big part of it. But there’s a sweetness in how you share space. Sometimes, it’s cooking together, and he’ll stand beside you, watching your every move with that sharp focus he has for everything. Other times, it’s movies, the two of you sprawled out on the couch, his arm slung lazily over your shoulders. Katsuki’s not great with words, not in the way some people are, but he doesn’t need to be. His actions speak for him—whether it’s making sure you’re comfortable or tossing a blanket over you when you doze off mid-movie.

The softness between you is unexpected. You’ve seen his gruff, explosive exterior, the way the media paints him as some sort of untouchable force. But here, with you, he’s different. He’s cuddly, something you never would’ve expected from him. He pulls you close without hesitation, his arms firm and warm, always keeping you near. You don’t question it, but it throws you off. This wasn’t what you signed up for—this quiet intimacy that feels more like a relationship than something casual. He’s not supposed to be so sweet, so soft.

One thing that surprises you most is how much he enjoys taking pictures with you. 

You’d never have guessed the gruff, no-nonsense Pro Hero would indulge in such a thing, especially when he’s always grumbling about media shoots and press. But when you’re in one of his hoodies, and you tug him down to take a selfie, your hand gently curling around his jaw, he leans in without protest. There’s this small, content smile that tugs at his lips—subtle but real, and it lights up his face in a way that makes your heart skip. You snap the picture, and he’ll grumble, “Didn’t ask for this,” but you catch him later, zooming in on the photo, his thumb lingering over the screen. There’s a softness in his eyes as he looks at the two of you together.

He’s not one for skincare, either, but when you do face masks or anything remotely involving pampering, he sits there and lets you do it, his face a picture of calm contentment. His quirk may have blessed him with great skin, but he indulges you, letting you push his wild hair back with a fluffy headband, revealing his sharp features. You prep his face, and he just watches you with half-lidded eyes, relaxed in a way you’ve never seen before. He doesn’t even protest when you lean down and kiss him in the middle of it, his lips curving into a small, lazy smile. It’s cute how unbothered he is, how he lets you do whatever you want to him.

You’ve gotten more comfortable with each other in general.

More touching, more kissing, and sex has become something deeper. It’s no longer just an outlet, no longer just physical. It’s a way for the two of you to connect, to be closer. There’s a vulnerability in how he touches you, how his hands roam your body with a quiet reverence. When he presses against you, his skin flush against yours, you feel it—the way his guard drops, the way he lets himself need you in those moments. Your head will fall back, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, his mouth warm and insistent, before his firm hand finds your face, guiding you back to him for another kiss. You feel like you’re floating in those moments, lost in the press of his body, the sound of his voice, and the way he holds you as if you’re something precious.

One night, after several rounds of unraveling each other, Katsuki does something he’s never done before—he opens up. His voice is quiet, almost hesitant, as he starts to talk about the Final War. You weren’t prepared for the weight of it. He tells you about being sent to the frontlines as a child soldier, about how his heart ruptured, the physical agony and the fear that came with it. His right arm, crushed beyond recognition, left him scarred—inside and out. He talks about rehab, about how long it took him to get his arm functioning again. 

And then, in a softer tone, he admits something that surprises you: “I still wanna be number one... but I’m content, y’know? With where I’m at right now.”

You’re lying beside him, his hand heavy on your waist, and you look up at him. His face is dimly lit, and there’s a vulnerability in his expression that makes your heart twist. “I think you’re amazing,” you whisper, your voice soft but sure, your fingers reaching up to gently curl around his jaw, pulling him down for a kiss. It’s slow and sweet, and when you pull away, his cheeks are flushed, a faint pink creeping across his skin.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, embarrassed, but you can see the small, content smile tugging at his lips again, the same one he gives you in those quiet moments when his guard is down.

You smile back, your heart swelling in your chest as you kiss him again. There’s a softness to this moment, to him, and it feels like something has shifted between you. Something you can’t quite put into words yet, but it’s there, lingering in the air, unspoken but undeniable. 

But then there’s a pause, a hesitation. Katsuki’s expression changes, and when he speaks again, it’s quieter. "You’re the one that’s amazin'," he repeats, his voice low, almost like he’s afraid to say it too loudly. The way his words hang between you makes your heart do a strange little flip. You can feel the weight of them. 

You tilt your head slightly, giving him a teasing smile to ease the tension. "What, for walking in 120 mm heels or for letting you do facemasks with me?" you whisper, fingers brushing the scar on his cheek, tracing the jagged line that’s become so familiar to you now. 

He huffs, but there’s a flicker of something more behind his eyes. "Nah," he says, shaking his head. "For bein’ you. For workin’ hard as hell, doin’ all this stuff, and still bein’ able to… to put up with me."

The words hit you harder than you expect. You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. You hadn’t realized he saw it that way—like he was a burden, like being with him was something difficult to endure. There’s a vulnerability in the way he avoids your gaze, his usual cocky demeanor gone, leaving just Katsuki—raw and exposed in front of you.

"You’re making it sound like I’m putting up with someone from hell," you say, your voice softer now, trying to coax his eyes back to yours.

He grumbles again, that same frustrated sound, but he still doesn’t look at you, and that’s when you realize just how much he doubts himself. How much he carries with him—his past, his insecurities, the weight of being a Pro Hero. And for the first time, you see how deeply it cuts him, how much he worries that he’s too much for anyone to handle.

"Hey," you whisper, your hand gently guiding his face back to you. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and his eyes, reluctant at first, finally meet yours. "I like putting up with you. You always think so bad about yourself. Stop doing that. Sometimes people just want to be around you, to spend time with you. It’s not weird, and I like spending time with you."

Katsuki’s cheeks flare up with a faint blush, his ears turning a little red at your words. He scoffs again, the sound almost automatic, like he’s trying to shake off the embarrassment. "You’re fuckin’ clingy," he mutters, but the bite in his tone is weak. His eyes flicker with something softer, something grateful.

You grin at him, laughter bubbling up in your chest. "Says the man that’s clinging to me like glue." You lean up on your elbow a little, your smile widening. "I have the pictures to prove it, by the way."

Before you can react, he’s turning his head and biting lightly at your fingers where they rest on his jaw, his teeth just grazing your skin in a teasing nip. It sends a small jolt through you, and you laugh softly, falling back into the pillows, your chest rising and falling with quiet giggles as you look up at him.

Katsuki’s grinning now, a real grin that lights up his face, his usual intensity tempered with affection. He leans down closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and you can feel the way his body relaxes against yours. There’s no distance between you—no walls, no masks. Just you and him, sharing the space in a way that feels... real.

"What?" you whisper, still smiling as you reach up to smooth a hand through his messy hair. "Is my skin glowing or something?"

Katsuki scoffs lightly at your teasing, though there’s a small tug of a smile at the corner of his lips. His crimson eyes stay locked on yours, searching your face with an intensity that always makes your heart race. The heat of his body radiates against you, and even though you’re joking, there’s a flicker of something deeper in the way he holds your gaze, something vulnerable he’s still not used to sharing. 

"Yeah, sure, your skin’s glowin’," he mutters, his voice rough but soft, leaning down closer. "From all those dumb facemasks you make me do." His lips brush your temple, but the grin on his face betrays his usual gruffness.

You laugh, a light sound that melts between the two of you in the dimly lit room. "Dumb facemasks that you enjoy way too much," you fire back, playfully nudging him. "Don’t think I don’t notice how relaxed you get."

He grumbles something unintelligible under his breath, but there’s no real bite behind it. His hand, rough from years of hero work, trails absentmindedly along your side, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin, sending tiny shivers down your spine. His touch is softer than you ever expected when you first got involved with him, but now it’s familiar—comforting in its warmth and weight.

His eyes soften as he looks down at you, the usual fire in them dimmed into something warmer, more intimate. "Maybe," he mutters, his voice low. "But I like you better without all that makeup anyway."

The simplicity of the statement, the raw honesty of it, makes your heart squeeze. You let out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking your head slightly as you press a kiss to his lips, slow and lingering. His hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, deepening the kiss for a moment before pulling away, his forehead resting against yours.

There’s a stillness in the room now, a sense of peace that settles between the two of you. It feels like the world outside doesn’t exist, like all the noise and chaos of your lives as pro heroes and public figures has melted away. In this moment, it’s just you and Katsuki—no expectations, no pressure. Just the quiet, simple warmth of being together. 

"You're an idiot," you whisper playfully, breaking the silence as you tap his chest lightly, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. 

"Yeah," he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your skin as he presses another soft kiss to your forehead. "Guess I am for you."

Katsuki's words make your heart skip a beat, and you have to bite your lip to stop the smile threatening to break through. The way he says it—so casually yet so earnestly—makes warmth bloom in your chest. You’re not used to this side of him, this softness that he reserves just for you.

“What are your plans tomorrow?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’s afraid to disturb the peace between you.

You think for a moment before replying, "Well… I have Pilates in the morning, and then I’m getting my nails done. Do you have any suggestions?" You stretch your arms lazily above your head, watching him with a playful glint in your eye.

Katsuki shrugs, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck. His hair tickles your skin, and you can’t help but let out a soft sigh as your fingers instinctively move to scratch his scalp. The sound he makes in response—a low, content rumble—reminds you of a cat purring, and it makes you smile. He presses a kiss to your cheek, his lips warm against your skin, before mumbling, “Dunno. Whatever makes you feel good.”

You grin, already knowing what will get a reaction out of him. “So if it’s an ugly purple color, you’ll be okay with it?”

As expected, he makes a face, his brows furrowing in clear disapproval. The corner of your mouth twitches in amusement as you roll your eyes. "Don’t worry, I’ll probably go for a nude pink," you murmur, leaning in to nuzzle your nose against his. The closeness between you feels so natural now, like a second skin. "And then I have a meeting with my agent about being a brand ambassador for an upcoming label, but I’m still thinking about it. That’s all."

He hums, a low sound of acknowledgment vibrating through his chest, and then you return the question. "What about you?"

"Got the day off," he says after a beat, his voice a little hesitant as if he’s testing the waters. "Thought… thought maybe I’d cook for ya or somethin’." His fingers brush against your lower back, the warmth of his touch drawing you even closer. It’s so subtle, the way he pulls you in, but it feels like he’s trying to close any remaining distance between your bodies. "Make ya those sushi rolls you liked. The ones you had in the US."

The way he remembers something so small, something you mentioned offhandedly during a trip, makes your breath hitch slightly. It’s not just the gesture itself—it’s the meaning behind it. How vulnerable and open he’s become with you, how he always wants to do things for you, to make sure you’re comfortable. His actions say what his words sometimes struggle to—how much he cares, even if he’s not always good at expressing it.

You swallow, the emotions swirling inside you making your chest feel tight in the best way possible. "You don’t have to do all that, Katsuki," you say softly, your fingers tracing small circles along his shoulder, feeling the strength and warmth beneath his skin. "But I’d love it. You know I’d never say no to your cooking."

He grumbles, his usual tough exterior showing through even in moments like this. "Yeah, well, don’t expect it all the time," he mutters, but the way his fingers tighten slightly on your back tells you he’s already looking forward to it. He likes taking care of you, even if he’ll never admit it outright.

You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering there for a moment. His skin is warm, and the simple act of affection makes him relax even more against you, like he’s letting go of something heavy he’s been holding on to. 

"I’m looking forward to it," you whisper, and the sincerity in your voice seems to catch him off guard. He looks up at you, his usual sharp gaze softened by the quiet intimacy of the moment. There’s something vulnerable in his eyes, something that makes your heart ache in a way that’s both beautiful and terrifying. 

"Yeah," he says, his voice rough but tender. "Me too."

And in that moment, with the quiet warmth of the room surrounding you, it feels like everything is exactly as it should be. The casual arrangement you once had has blurred into something deeper, something more profound. You can feel it in the way he holds you, in the way he speaks to you, in the way he cares for you. 

You never expected this to happen, but now that it has, you’re not sure you want it to stop. Katsuki has wormed his way into your life in a way you hadn’t anticipated, and it scares you, just a little. 

But when he’s this close, when his touch is this gentle, and when his words are this soft, it’s hard to imagine ever wanting to let him go.

It’s like stepping into a high-end restaurant when you walk into Katsuki’s apartment the next day, after finishing up your schedule. 

The moment you enter, the smell of freshly prepared food hits your senses, and the sight of the spread on the dining table takes your breath away. He’s really gone all out—sashimi platters laid out beautifully, with slices of the freshest fish you’ve ever seen; multiple types of sushi from nigiri to uramaki and temaki, each piece looking meticulously crafted. The fried dishes, like ebi furai and karaage, are golden and crisp, making your mouth water at the sight of them.

It’s a lot. More than you ever expected from him, especially after how shy he seemed about cooking this for you. 

But what really catches your attention isn’t the food—it’s the bouquet of flowers sitting at your usual seat.

Your breath hitches as you step closer, reaching out to touch the delicate petals. The bouquet is a stunning mix of roses, lilies, orchids, and carnations, all in varying shades of pink. The arrangement is soft but vibrant, delicate yet full of life, and you can’t help but be completely charmed by the gesture. You pick it up carefully, the scent of the flowers filling the air as you lift the bouquet closer to your face. The blend of colors is beautiful, and it makes your heart flutter.

With the bouquet in hand, you turn to look at him, your expression softening into a teasing but warm smile. "Flowers, huh?" you murmur, your voice light with affection, though there’s an underlying sense of surprise too. You’d never thought Katsuki would go this far, to do something so thoughtful and gentle.

Katsuki stands a few feet away, looking a bit out of his element, his usual confidence slightly faltering. He’s rubbing the back of his neck, a telltale sign of his discomfort with this kind of vulnerable gesture. His eyes flick to the flowers in your hands, and then back to you. His mouth twitches like he’s about to say something, and after a beat, he murmurs, almost bashfully, “It’s the same color as your nails.”

You blink, and then you realize—he’s right. The delicate pink flowers are nearly an exact match for the nude-pink shade you’d mentioned getting done at the nail salon earlier that morning. It’s such a small detail, something you didn’t even think he’d remember, let alone match. It’s thoughtful in a way that makes your chest tighten and your heart swell.

You think you might just melt right there. He’s always been sweet in his own gruff, awkward way, but this? This feels different. This feels like he’s trying to show you something more, to express something he doesn’t have the words for.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, your voice a little breathless as you take a step toward him, the bouquet still in your hands. You want to say something else, to tease him maybe, but the lump in your throat won’t let you. Instead, you just stare at him, feeling the warmth in your chest grow, spreading like wildfire.

He looks away, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, his lips curling into a small scowl. But there’s no bite behind it. If anything, he just looks a little embarrassed. “Don’t make a big deal outta it,” he grumbles, though the way his eyes flicker back to yours betrays his nerves.

But you can’t help it. How can you not make a big deal out of it? He went through all this trouble just to match a detail as small as your nails with the flowers he picked. He cooked an entire feast for you, filled with dishes you love. And all of it—all of it—is done with the kind of care and thoughtfulness that makes your heart ache in the best way.

You set the flowers down gently on the table and step closer to him, your hands reaching for his. You feel the callouses on his fingers as you intertwine them with yours, and he stiffens slightly before relaxing, allowing you to pull him closer. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you whisper, your voice soft and tender. “But I love it. I love everything. Thank you.”

Katsuki’s gaze flickers down to your hands, then back up to your face, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to figure out how to respond. He shifts his weight, looking uncharacteristically shy. “S’nothin’. Just wanted to do somethin’ nice.”

Your smile grows, and you can’t resist the urge to stand on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his cheek. His skin flushes under your touch, and you feel the way he holds his breath for a second before he relaxes. “Well, it means a lot to me,” you murmur against his skin, your lips lingering just a little longer than necessary.

When you pull back, his gaze locks onto yours, and there’s a softness in his eyes you don’t often get to see. For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the world feeling a little smaller, a little more intimate. The bouquet, the dinner, the way he remembered something as small as the color of your nails—it all feels like more than just casual affection. It feels like he’s slowly, hesitantly opening himself up to you in ways he’s never done before.

And it makes your heart race.

“Now, come on,” you say, breaking the silence with a grin as you tug him toward the table. “Let’s eat before this masterpiece gets cold.”

He huffs, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Sit down already.”

As you take your seat, you can’t help but feel a little giddy. Katsuki takes his seat across from you, and for a moment, the two of you just sit there, surrounded by the feast he’s prepared. There’s a warmth in the air, a sense of quiet happiness that lingers between you.

And as you pick up your chopsticks and dig into the meal he made just for you, you realize that whatever this is between the two of you, it’s something more than you ever could have imagined. Something real. Something that’s growing in ways neither of you expected.

That night feels like a memory already etched into your soul, a moment you know you’ll never forget. 

The signs were all there from the start—the flowers, the dinner, the shy glances exchanged between the two of you over the table. There was a softness in the way you spoke to each other, a quiet warmth that lingered in the air, charged with something more than just affection. 

It was inevitable, the way the night would unfold.

Now, the room is filled with nothing but the quiet creaking of the bed, the sound of skin meeting skin, and the breathless, intimate sounds you and Katsuki make together. Your hands grip the pillow beneath your head as his strong hands hold your thighs, keeping them folded around his hips. He moves with a steady, deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. There’s something deeper in the way he touches you tonight—something tender and almost reverent.

Through the haze of pleasure, your eyes blink up at him, catching the intensity of his gaze. It’s overwhelming, the way his molten eyes lock onto yours, filled with an emotion so raw it almost makes your chest ache. You can’t help but tug him closer, wanting to feel his warmth, his skin against yours. He obliges, his forearms coming to rest on either side of your head, bracketing you in. Your legs instinctively tighten around his waist, your ankles crossing at the small of his back, pulling him even closer.

“Katsuki,” you gasp, the word slipping from your lips in a whisper. It’s a plea, a confession, everything wrapped in one. He answers you not with words but with a kiss—soft, slow, and wet. His lips press against yours with a tenderness that belies the strength of his body, and it makes you shiver with how gentle he’s being. There’s something different in the way he’s moving, like he’s trying to tell you something he can’t quite put into words.

Then, his voice breaks the silence, low and vulnerable. “Say my name,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck.

The need in his voice makes your heart stutter. You feel his vulnerability, the rawness of him asking for something so simple, yet so important. So you do—you say his name over and over, like a mantra. “Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki…” Each word is punctuated by a kiss, your lips brushing against his in fleeting touches. His name feels sacred on your tongue, like it’s the only thing that matters in this moment.

His eyes darken, flecks of gold and violet swirling in the molten depths of his gaze. It’s like he’s seeing straight through you, into the deepest parts of you, and it makes you feel bare, exposed. But in the best way. You’re not just giving yourself to him; you’re sharing something far more intimate, something unspoken but understood. The two of you are drowning in each other—in the kisses, the warmth of your skin pressed together, the way he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

He’s exploded you, just like his quirk, and in his touch, you feel like fireworks—bright, burning, alive. Every time he moves, you feel like you’re breaking apart in the best way, only to come back together, more whole than before.

And then, Katsuki slows his movements, like he’s trying to savor every second of this. His thrusts become deep, deliberate, each one dragging out the moment as if he never wants it to end. There’s something reverent about it, like he’s worshipping you, wanting to memorize the way you feel, the way your body responds to him. It’s so intense, so real, that it almost overwhelms you. 

You can’t help but moan softly, your body arching into his as he moves within you. The sensation is slow, building like a crescendo, and you feel like you’re on the edge of something greater than either of you. You’re not just feeling pleasure—this is something deeper. His touch, his kiss, the way he holds you, it all makes you feel like you’ve become something otherworldly, like a star burning brightly in the night sky.

His lips brush against your ear, and in the quiet between breaths, you hear him whisper, “You’re incredible.” The words are hushed, almost like a secret, but they hit you hard, sinking deep into your heart. He’s never been great with words, but in this moment, he doesn’t need to be. The way he touches you, the way he holds you, speaks volumes.

And just like that, you feel yourself slipping, falling into that blissful oblivion, with Katsuki right there with you. The world outside disappears, and all that exists is this—the two of you, tangled together, lost in the feeling of each other. Time slows, the space between each breath stretches, and for a moment, it feels like you’re not just two people anymore. You’ve become something greater, something inseparable, something you never want to let go of. 

As the two of you finally find release, together, it feels like the stars themselves have exploded inside of you, leaving you breathless, weightless, and utterly content.

It’s close to dawn, and the first hints of light peek through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room. 

You’re completely spent, bodies tangled together, exhausted after countless rounds of pleasure, yet it’s not just the physicality that keeps you close. It’s the warmth of his touch, the familiarity of it, the way his body instinctively presses against yours. Katsuki is holding you like you’re something precious, his lips brushing over your skin—your jaw, your neck, your shoulders—leaving behind tender kisses in his wake. His hands glide over your hips, your stomach, your thighs, tracing your curves with a gentle reverence that makes your breath hitch. There’s something so intimate in the way he touches you now, not just as a lover, but as someone who’s cherishing every moment.

You nuzzle closer, your head resting against his muscular bicep, pressing a soft kiss to it with a smile. His warmth surrounds you, and you can feel his chest rise and fall with every breath he takes. The silence between you is comfortable, peaceful, only filled with the sound of your shared breaths and the occasional rustling of the sheets.

In a teasing, hushed tone, you break the stillness, “You never told me what you think of my nails.” 

Katsuki huffs a quiet laugh against your cheek, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Idiot,” he mumbles, the insult carrying no real bite. His teeth sink into your skin teasingly, making you let out a startled squeak, but you laugh when you feel his lips press a soft kiss in the same spot. His voice is a little rough, but warm as he admits, “They look good.”

You smile at his response, feeling the warmth of his approval as it spreads through you. “Good,” you whisper back, your voice soft in the quiet room. You let the moment drift into comfortable silence once again, enjoying the simple pleasure of being close to him, his body still pressed to yours. The bed shifts slightly as you both move, adjusting your positions to be closer, your limbs lazily draped over each other.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, cutting through the silence, and you instinctively reach for it. You scroll through a few messages before opening the camera, catching your reflection on the screen. There’s a faint flush to your cheeks, and you can see the small marks he left on your skin—little love bites trailing down to your collarbone, proof of the night’s passion. You look at yourself, and you can’t help but smile.

You’re glowing.

Before you can dwell on it, Katsuki shifts beside you, slowly leaning in to rest his head against yours, his weight a comforting presence. Your smile softens as you press the button on the camera, capturing the two of you in the frame. He doesn’t protest—he never really does when you take pictures anymore—and there’s a softness in his eyes, a quiet contentment that’s so different from the sharp, hardened persona he shows the world. Here, with you, he’s just Katsuki, sleepy-eyed and tender, his face relaxed in a way that makes your heart swell.

You click on the video option, and still, he says nothing, just watches as you record. He leans further into you, his body language loose and easy, completely at peace in your presence. You lift your hand to his jaw, gently scratching at the stubble growing there, and he blinks lazily, his eyes half-lidded as he leans into your touch. His vulnerability is on full display, and it’s something so personal, so special, that it makes your chest tighten with affection.

Without thinking, you turn your head and press a soft kiss to his lips. He lets you, meeting your kiss with a slow, sleepy response, his lips warm and slightly chapped. The kiss is tender, and when you pull away, it leaves behind a small, wet sound that makes you smile. You press another, quicker kiss to his lips before glancing back at the camera, capturing the quiet intimacy of the moment. 

On the screen, you see him with that small, almost shy smile curling at the corners of his lips. It’s a rare expression, one that he only seems to show when he’s with you, and it makes your heart flutter. There’s no mask here, no front, just him—content, soft, and utterly at ease with you.

And in that moment, you realize how deeply you’ve both fallen into this. How much you’ve come to mean to one another. His presence feels like home, like something you’ve been missing all along. 

There’s something deeper here, something you didn’t expect, and now it feels terrifyingly real.

And that thought scares the hell out of you.

You avoid him after that night.

It’s dumb; it’s stupid; it’s insane, but after that night, the intimacy had shaken you to your core, and you’re not ready to deal with the weight of what that means. The soft way he touched you, the vulnerability in his voice when he asked you to call him by his name—those aren’t things that fit into your neat little box labeled casual. And you don’t want to face the fact that whatever this thing is between you and Katsuki, it stopped being casual a long time ago.

So, you pull away. You don’t call him, don’t text back as often, and when he tries to reach out, you tell him you’re busy. It’s not entirely a lie. Work is busy. You’ve been booked back-to-back with photoshoots for Vogue China, campaigns for Kintsugi and Chanel, and appearances for Tsukiyo. Haute Couture Week is just around the corner, and you’re drowning in preparations. 

But the truth is, it’s easier to hide behind your schedule than face the reality of what’s happening between you and Katsuki. You bury yourself in work, hoping the distance will clear your head, will give you time to sort out your feelings. Because you’re not sure what you want anymore. Do you still want something casual? Or has it become something more? You’re not ready to answer that question, not ready to confront the feelings that have begun to creep up on you.

And then, late one night, the consequences of your actions come knocking—literally.

It’s around one in the morning when there’s a knock at your door. The sound startles you, breaking the quiet of your apartment, and you instantly know who it is. You hesitate for a second, your heart racing as you walk over and pull the door open.

Katsuki stands there, still in his hero gear, covered in soot and sweat, fresh from patrol. His eyes are sharp, but there’s a softness in the way he looks at you—something like confusion, or maybe even hurt. He doesn’t waste any time.

“You avoidin’ me or somethin’?” His voice is gruff, but there’s a vulnerability in it, the kind that makes your chest tighten.

“No!” you blurt out, too quickly. Your voice sounds high, and you can’t even convince yourself. “No, I’ve just been... busy. You know how it is.”

He narrows his eyes, his expression hardening. “Busy, huh?”

You nod, trying to hold his gaze, but your heart is pounding in your ears. “Yeah. Work’s been crazy lately.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stares at you with that intense, unreadable look of his, and you feel the guilt crawling up your throat. You expect him to yell, to snap at you, but when he finally speaks, his voice is low, hesitant.

“Did I... do somethin’ wrong?”

The question hits you harder than you expect. You see the hurt in his eyes now, the way his jaw tightens, like he’s bracing for something. Your chest tightens, and you want to reach out, to reassure him, but you hesitate. You shake your head quickly. “No, Katsuki, you didn’t do anything. It’s... it’s not you, it’s me.”

His entire body tenses at your words, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell’s that s’posed to mean?”

You take a step back, rubbing your arms nervously. “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you say quietly, almost like you’re hoping he won’t hear you.

He takes a step closer, his voice firm, almost demanding. “Do what?”

You swallow, trying to find the right words, but they stick in your throat. “This... us. I wanted things to stay casual, you know? Casual but serious? But now... everything feels different… and I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship.”

He’s silent for a beat, his jaw clenching, his fists tightening at his sides. “So avoidin’ me was your solution?” His voice is sharp now, tinged with frustration and hurt. He’s not yelling, but his tone cuts through you.

“No, it’s not like that. I just didn’t know how to—”

“Didn’t know how to what?” He interrupts, his voice rising slightly, his eyes flashing. “Didn’t know how to tell me I’m just some fuckin’ fling to you?”

“No!” you shake your head desperately, stepping forward, but the words feel stuck, like no explanation is good enough. “It’s not like that, I just—”

“Then what?” His voice cracks, and for a moment, you see something raw in his expression. He lets out a shaky breath and takes a step back, his shoulders slumping as he runs a hand through his messy hair. The usual fire in his eyes dims, replaced with exhaustion—emotional exhaustion. He looks tired. Tired of fighting for you. “Y’know what? Whatever. Do whatever the hell you want.”

You freeze as he turns, his back to you, and walks toward the door. Your mouth opens to stop him, but no words come out. You watch helplessly as he reaches for the door handle, his movements slow and heavy, like he’s waiting for you to say something—anything. 

But you don’t. 

The door clicks shut behind him, and the silence that follows is deafening. 

You stand there, your heart pounding, staring at the empty space where he just stood. The weight of the conversation, of everything you didn’t say, settles in the pit of your stomach, and for the first time, you realize just how badly you’ve messed up. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to feel this way. But it does. And now, you’re left standing in the aftermath of your own avoidance, the silence of the room echoing with the absence of him.

And for the first time, you wonder if it’s too late to fix things.

────────────────────────

The weeks after your... breakup? Was it even that? You still don’t know how to label it, but whatever it was, it’s hard. It hurts more than you thought it would, more than you ever expected it could. You don’t cry easily, you’ve never been the type to fall apart over someone, but Katsuki—Bakugou—was different. His absence feels like a missing piece of your life, a hole that you can’t seem to fill no matter how much you try.

You find yourself crying at night, tears slipping down your cheeks as you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. It’s a quiet kind of crying, the kind where your chest aches and your throat tightens, but you don’t make a sound. It’s unexpected, this grief, this sense of loss. You hadn’t realized how much he meant to you until he wasn’t there anymore. Until the warmth of his presence, his gruff voice, his touch was gone, leaving you cold and hollow.

But you push through it. You force yourself to keep going, to focus on your work, because that’s what you do. You’ve always been good at throwing yourself into your career when things get hard, and this time is no different. Even if your heart feels like it’s been ripped out. Even if you feel like you’re walking around with this empty, aching space inside you. 

Even if it feels like... love.

But you don’t let yourself dwell on that thought. You shove it down, deep inside, where you don’t have to deal with it. Instead, you work. You focus on your job, on the constant demands of your schedule. Haute Couture Week in Paris comes quickly, and you’re on a plane before you even realize it, throwing yourself into the chaos of the fashion world.

Paris is as hectic and glamorous as always. You’re swept into a whirlwind of fittings, castings, and shows. You walk down runways draped in the most luxurious fabrics, you pose for countless photoshoots, you attend brand events where everyone looks perfect, where everyone seems to have it all together. On the surface, you look the part—you’re poised, composed, radiant. But inside, your thoughts are consumed with him.

Every time you stand still for more than a second, your mind drifts back to Katsuki. To the way he looked that night at your door, the hurt in his eyes, the way he walked away. You think about the nights you spent with him, about the softness in his touch that you hadn’t expected, about the way he kissed you with such intensity that it made you feel like you were the only person in the world. 

You miss the way he would scowl when he was embarrassed, the way he’d flick your forehead when you teased him, the way he’d grumble but still pull you closer when you were lying in bed together. You miss him, and no matter how much work you bury yourself in, that feeling doesn’t go away. 

And you do bury yourself in work. 

You walk runway after runway, your legs aching from the hours spent in heels. You attend fittings, standing perfectly still as designers adjust fabric on your body, their hands moving with practiced precision. You barely eat, following the strict diet that keeps you in shape for the shows, even when your stomach growls in protest. You push through photoshoot after photoshoot, your face a mask of calm professionalism even when your head feels like it’s going to burst from exhaustion.

By the time Haute Couture Week ends, you’re exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally. But there’s no time to rest, no time to stop and process the whirlwind of emotions that have been swirling inside you since that night with Katsuki. September is coming fast, and with it, the next fashion month. Castings have already started, and of course, you’re booked solid. Tsukiyo, Ryūmon, Dsquared2, Dior—they all want you, and you don’t have the luxury of slowing down.

You tell yourself that this is what you need. That keeping busy is good, that focusing on your career will help you forget. But late at night, when the city around you is quiet and your hotel room feels too big, too empty, you can’t stop your thoughts from drifting back to him. To the way he said your name, his voice rough but soft at the edges. To the way he held you close after everything, his hands gentle on your skin. To the way he looked at you, like you were more than just some casual fling, like you were something that mattered.

And that’s what scares you the most.

Because deep down, you know it was never just casual for him. You saw it in the way he touched you, in the way he let you call him by his first name, in the way he always made sure you were comfortable, that you were okay. You could feel it in the way he held you close, even when he didn’t say the words. Katsuki was serious about you, and that terrified you because you hadn’t let yourself believe that you could be serious about him too. 

But now, lying in your hotel bed, staring at the ceiling in the dim light, you wonder if maybe... maybe you were serious about him too. Maybe this wasn’t just some casual thing for you either. Maybe you let your fear get the best of you. Maybe you pushed him away because you were scared of what it meant to feel this way about someone.

Maybe... it’s too late to fix it.

You first meet Kirishima Eijirou at the brand event for Yūgen, a high-end luxury brand that’s slowly carving its name into the industry. 

The event is bathed in understated elegance, the kind that makes everything feel weightless, like an ethereal dream. The fragrance of Yūgen lingers in the air, soft but pervasive, the scent weaving in and out of your senses. It’s a haunting aroma—woody, floral, with a touch of something mysterious that stays with you long after you leave the room. The brand’s aesthetic mirrors that feeling, subtle craftsmanship and poetic beauty all wrapped in quiet luxury.

You’re wearing one of Yūgen’s finest designs: The Moonlit Silk Gown, a floor-length masterpiece in pearlescent ivory that moves like liquid moonlight against your skin. The cherry blossom embroidery is so delicate, it looks as though it might dissolve at any moment. The backless design leaves a trail of silk down your spine, each movement making you feel like a walking work of art, fragile but powerful. You look flawless—because you have to—but inside, you’re far from it. 

It’s been a long week. A long month, really. 

Physically, you’re exhausted. Every photoshoot, every runway, every campaign pulls energy from you in a way that leaves you hollow by the end of the day. But emotionally? That’s where the real toll is. It’s been weeks since you and Katsuki—Bakugou, you remind yourself, like a bad habit you need to kick—had your falling out, and despite throwing yourself into work, the ache hasn’t dulled. 

A vacation sounds tempting, but the thought of having time—time to rest, time to think—is too much. You don’t want to think. Not about what happened, not about the way you avoided him, not about the hurt in his eyes that still haunts you late at night. So you bury yourself in everything else—work, events, anything that keeps you moving forward without looking back.

The event is in full swing, and you’ve spent hours mingling, moving through the crowd like a ghost, smiling, nodding, talking to people whose faces blur together after a while. Celebrities, designers, businessmen, all wanting a piece of your attention. You’re good at it—the small talk, the easy charm, the graceful way you handle yourself. But by the time you finally find a moment to sit down, you feel like you’re about to collapse.

Your feet ache from the heels you’ve been wearing all night, sharp pains shooting through your legs with each step. Your head pounds from the constant hum of conversation, lights, and the weight of it all. You take a deep breath, trying to center yourself, to focus on anything other than the discomfort coursing through you. You consider finding an excuse to leave early, to escape the noise and the pressure, but before you can even act on it, a voice cuts through the noise around you.

“Hi, may I sit here for a moment?”

You blink, looking up, surprised to find a tall figure standing over you, smiling. It takes you a second to place him—Kirishima Eijirou, also known as Pro Hero Red Riot. 

He’s famous, one of the top heroes in the country, known for his kindness as much as his strength. You’ve heard about him before, mostly from Katsuki. Despite Bakugou’s endless grumbling about Shitty Hair this, Shitty Hair that, you could always tell there was a lot of affection there. Kirishima is one of Bakugou’s closest friends, a bond that goes back to their high school days. 

It’s odd, meeting one of Bakugou’s friends now, after everything that’s happened between you two. You’ve only met Kaminari and Ashido briefly, and that was back when things with Katsuki were... different. Now, you don’t know where you stand with him, let alone the people in his life. 

But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Not after how things ended.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you say, forcing a polite smile. Your voice is steady, though inside, you feel the familiar tension creeping back up your spine. You watch as Kirishima sits down beside you, his broad frame filling the space with a kind of easy warmth. He’s dressed in a sleek black suit, the fabric perfectly tailored to his muscular form. A golden chain hangs around his neck, catching the soft light of the room. 

He doesn’t feel overwhelming, though. Despite his large frame and the unmistakable air of strength he carries, Kirishima exudes a kind of gentleness that puts you at ease almost immediately. His presence is the complete opposite of the tension that’s been gnawing at you all night. 

“Long event, huh?” Kirishima says, his voice light, but there’s a genuine empathy in his tone. It’s the kind of voice that invites you to relax, to drop the mask you’ve been wearing all night.

You nod, offering him a tired smile. “Yeah. It’s been a long week, actually.”

He chuckles softly. “I bet. These things can be exhausting, even for someone like you.” His eyes flicker down to your gown, admiration clear in his gaze. “You look incredible, by the way. That dress... it’s something else.”

You let a tired smile curl around your lips. “Thanks,” you say softly, though the compliment feels weightless. You’ve been hearing it all evening, and the words don’t really touch you anymore. 

Kirishima smiles back, but his expression carries a hint of concern now. His easygoing demeanor is still there, but there’s something more perceptive in his gaze. 

There’s a pause, a moment of silence between the two of you, as the murmur of the event continues around you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to mind the quiet. “You seem overworked,” he says after a moment, his voice gentle but probing.

You shrug, taking a sip from the champagne in your hand. The bubbles fizzle, but even the sharp taste of alcohol does little to break through the numbness you’ve been carrying all night. “I am,” you admit.

He raises a brow, clearly concerned. “Why don’t you take a break then?”

The answer comes to you immediately, almost on instinct. “I don’t want to,” you say flatly. “Taking a break means having time for myself, and that’s the last thing I need right now. Plus, I can’t.” You gesture vaguely, feeling the weight of your schedule already pressing down on you. “Fashion Week is in two months, and my calendar’s already packed. There’s no time.”

Kirishima hums in understanding, but there’s something unsaid in the air between you. His gaze softens as he looks at you, clearly mulling over his next words. The silence stretches, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he knows about you and Bakugou—if Katsuki ever mentioned you to his friends. Did he talk about you? Did they know you were… something, once? The thought makes your heart flutter, but it’s quickly followed by the familiar ache. You feel a lump rise in your throat as you try to push it all down.

Before you can dwell on it further, Kirishima finally speaks. “You know, I have a friend,” he says, his tone casual but laced with something deeper. “He kind of reminds me of what you’re going through. Recently, he went through something… rough, and it’s been hard on him. He’s been burying himself in work, and honestly, he’s not the same as he used to be. Not as happy, not as... alive. Like, something’s missing, you know?”

Your breath hitches. You know where this is going, but you can’t stop yourself from listening, from feeling every word sink deeper.

“The funny thing is,” Kirishima continues, his voice softening, “he never really told us about it. We found out by accident, actually—one of our friends snooped through his phone and found a picture.” He chuckles lightly, but it’s a sad sound. “He was pissed, obviously, but he didn’t stay mad for long. I think it’s because back then, he was still happy. Whatever he had, it made him content. But then… things happened.”

He turns to look at you, and his smile is sympathetic, almost knowing. “I think you understand.”

Yeah. He definitely knows. 

The weight of his words settles in your chest, heavy and suffocating. You feel the guilt rise up, thick and choking, but you force yourself to keep your expression neutral. You don’t want to show just how much it’s affecting you. “I hope your friend is doing okay,” you manage, though your voice comes out quieter than you intended.

Kirishima shrugs, his eyes flickering with a sadness of their own. “He says he is, but… I know him. He’s not.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. It’s all your fault. You can feel it—deep down, you know it. You’ve hurt him, and now he’s suffering because of it. The thought makes your chest tighten painfully. “I bet that… something he had misses him, too,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe they didn’t realize how important he was until it was too late.”

Kirishima smiles, but it’s tinged with that same sadness. “Yeah. That’s usually how it goes, isn’t it? We don’t realize what we’ve lost until it’s gone.”

You let out a small, bitter chuckle, nodding in agreement. The weight of the truth in his words is almost unbearable. You didn’t realize. Not until it was too late. And now, you’re left with nothing but the hollow ache of what used to be.

Kirishima watches you carefully, as if weighing his next words. “But, you know,” he says after a pause, “my friend, for all his gruffness… he’s pretty forgiving. He’s changed a lot since we were kids. He’s softened, in his own way.”

Your heart stutters at his words. You feel the lump in your throat grow bigger, making it hard to breathe. “Do you…” You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Do you think he’d forgive that something? If they tried to make things right?”

Kirishima shrugs, but there’s a softness in his gaze as he looks at you. “I think he would. He misses them more than they probably realize. But… they won’t know unless they try.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, and before you can say anything else, Kirishima stands up, offering you a kind smile. “It was nice talking to you. And hey, think about that vacation. It might be exactly what you need.”

You nod, too overwhelmed to say much in response, and watch as he walks away, his presence fading into the crowd.

The second he’s gone, your mind spins in a thousand directions. You sit still, your thoughts a jumbled mess of guilt, regret, and longing. You think about what Kirishima said—about Katsuki, about how he misses you, about how he might forgive you if you reached out.

Is it possible? Could he really forgive you? After everything?

Your heart races as you play the conversation over and over in your head, and slowly, a realization starts to settle in. You’ve been running from your feelings for weeks, but now… maybe it’s time to stop. 

Maybe it’s time to try. 

That’s when you make your decision. 

You’re done hiding; done avoiding the truth.

The commute to his apartment is hell. 

Everything that could go wrong, does. There’s an accident on the highway, forcing your driver to navigate the congested streets of Musutafu. The city is thick with humidity, and a summer storm has turned the streets into rivers. The rain pounds against the car windows relentlessly, and every drop seems to mock you, making you feel like the world itself is pushing back against this decision.

A few blocks from Katsuki’s apartment, the road is blocked by construction. Of course it is. Because, why wouldn’t it be? You’re so close, and the frustration bubbles up inside you until it spills over. Without thinking, you throw the door open and leap out of the car, pulling off your heels and clutching them in your hand. The rain immediately drenches you, soaking through the silk of your gown. 

But you run. Barefoot through the city streets, you run.

By the time you reach his building, you’re a sight—your silk dress clings to your skin, the once-elegant fabric now heavy and dripping, your hair plastered to your face. Your heels, still in your hand, are soaked through, and your feet slap against the slick pavement as you take the final steps to his door.

You knock, and it only takes a few moments before the door swings open. Katsuki stands in the doorway, his body immediately tensing as his gaze sweeps over you. His eyes go wide, and you can see the confusion—maybe even concern—flicker in them as he takes you in. 

You probably look like a drowned rat, soaking wet and panting from your sprint, but that’s not what gets to you. It’s him. It’s the way he looks. He’s tired. So tired. His eyes are shadowed with exhaustion, and the bags under them make it clear he hasn’t been sleeping. His broad shoulders are hunched, his usual fire subdued, and that alone breaks something inside of you. 

You did this to him.

“What the fuck—” he starts, his voice rough, but you cut him off before he can get any further.

“No. You listen to me.” You step forward, your heart hammering in your chest, your breath coming in shallow gasps from your run. “I want to talk. I couldn’t do that last time.”

His mouth snaps shut, and he blinks, clearly thrown by the intensity in your voice. He nods, just slightly, a gesture so small that most people wouldn’t even notice it—but you do. He’s listening.

You take a breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions swirling inside you, and then you begin. “I never meant to avoid you,” you say, voice shaky but determined. “I just… wasn’t ready to deal with the weight of what happened. I wasn’t ready to confront the feelings that you—” You swallow hard. “—the feelings you gave me.”

Katsuki’s eyes stay locked on yours, and you can see the tension in his jaw, the way he’s trying to keep himself calm, to hear you out.

“I always thought I wasn’t ready for a relationship,” you continue, feeling the words start to spill out faster, as if you need to get them out before you lose your nerve. “I thought I wanted something casual. But you… you changed that. You made me realize how wrong I was.” Your voice cracks slightly, and you force yourself to keep going. “I miss you. I miss you all the time. I miss your warmth, your kisses, the way you hold me close, the way you always make sure I’m comfortable, the way you’re grumpy but always so sweet… I miss everything about you.”

His breathing picks up, a faint hitch in his chest, and you notice the way his hands flex at his sides, like he’s trying to keep himself grounded.

“You were never just a fling to me,” you say, your throat tightening with emotion. “And I’m sorry I made you feel like you were. I’m sorry for everything. I was scared, and I didn’t know what I wanted, but now I do. I want you.”

You see him stiffen at those words, his expression shifting, but you press on. You have to say it all, everything.

“Today… today made me realize just how stupid I’ve been,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know what I had until I lost you. And I’m—” You choke slightly on the words, but push through them. “I’m in love with you.”

He inhales sharply, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet hallway, but he doesn’t move. His eyes widen slightly, but you can’t stop now.

“I think about you all the time,” you continue, your voice shaking with every word. “I feel like such an idiot, because I had everything—you—and I screwed it up. I was scared, and I—I let you walk away, but I don’t want to make that mistake again. I want you, Katsuki. I’m choosing you.”

The words hang heavy in the air between you, each one carrying the weight of everything you've been too scared to admit, too scared to confront. The hallway is quiet, save for the sound of your uneven breathing and the faint drumming of rain against the building outside. Katsuki is still standing there, his broad frame taking up the entire doorway, but he's utterly still. His eyes are locked on yours, wide and unblinking, as if he's trying to process every single word you’ve just thrown at him. 

And you know Katsuki. 

You know him in ways most people don’t. He’s strong, stubborn, and often explosive, but beneath that tough exterior is a vulnerability that he hides from the world. He doesn’t let people in easily, not really. His sharp edges and brash attitude are a shield, a way to protect himself from the constant pressure, the overwhelming expectations. He’s used to people seeing him as a weapon, a force of nature. But never as something to be chosen—never as someone who could be the safe place for someone else.

So when you stand here, drenched in rain and raw emotion, telling him that you do choose him, that you’re in love with him, it shakes him to his core. You can see it in the way his breath catches, in the way his body tenses like he’s bracing for impact. His eyes, usually so full of fire, are now filled with disbelief, as if he’s trying to convince himself that this is real, that you're real.

His lips part slightly, but no words come out. It’s like he’s frozen, caught between wanting to say something and not knowing how to. Bakugou Katsuki, the man who always has something to say, who always knows how to react, is speechless. 

The silence stretches on, and with each passing second, your heart feels like it’s being squeezed tighter and tighter. You’ve laid everything out—your heart, your soul, your fears—and the silence in return feels like a weight pressing down on your chest. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and your throat tightens, making it hard to breathe.

“Say something,” you whisper, your voice trembling as the tears finally start to spill over. You can’t stop them anymore. They fall freely now, mixing with the rain still dripping from your soaked hair and clinging to your skin. “Please.”

Katsuki’s eyes flicker, his jaw tightening as if he’s fighting some internal battle. He’s never been good with words—he’s never been good with feelings—and you can see how much he’s struggling right now. The vulnerability on his face is something you’ve only seen a handful of times, and it cuts through you like a knife. 

Finally, he exhales sharply, a sound that’s more like a growl than a breath, and he takes a step forward. His hand reaches out, hesitating for just a fraction of a second before he cups your face, his palm warm against your cold, rain-soaked skin. His thumb brushes away a tear from your cheek, the gesture so uncharacteristically gentle for him that it makes your heart ache even more.

“You… fuckin’ idiot,” he mutters, his voice rough and thick with emotion. There’s no anger in his words, though—just a kind of raw frustration and something deeper, something more vulnerable. His crimson eyes are locked on yours, searching your face as if he’s trying to make sure this is real, that you’re not going to disappear on him again. “You think… you think I didn’t fuckin’ want this? That I didn’t want you?”

You blink up at him, the tears still blurring your vision. His voice is cracking in a way you’ve never heard before, and it hits you just how much this means to him. 

“I wanted you,” he says, his hand still cradling your face as he leans in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “Fuck… I still want you.” His voice is raw, the vulnerability bleeding through with every word. “But you…” He swallows hard, his other hand coming up to grip your waist, pulling you just a little bit closer. “You pushed me away. You made me think… I wasn’t enough. Like I wasn’t worth shit to you.”

The pain in his voice is palpable, and it makes your chest ache in a way that feels almost unbearable. You shake your head, your own voice cracking as you try to get the words out. “No. No, Katsuki, that’s not—”

He cuts you off, his grip tightening just slightly, but not in a way that hurts. It’s like he’s holding on to you for dear life, afraid that if he lets go, you’ll disappear again. “You don’t get it,” he mutters, his breath hot against your skin. “No one… no one ever fuckin’ chooses me. Not like this. You think I didn’t want you to come after me? You think I didn’t want you to fight for me?”

His words hit you like a freight train, and you can’t stop the sob that escapes your lips. He’s right. You did push him away. You made him feel like he wasn’t worth it, like he didn’t matter as much as he should have. And now, seeing the pain in his eyes, hearing the hurt in his voice, it feels like a knife twisting in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Katsuki. I was scared, and I didn’t know how to handle it, but I… I love you. I love you so much, and I don’t want to lose you again.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to find the truth in your words. Then, slowly, his expression softens, the hardness in his gaze melting away as he exhales a shaky breath. His thumb brushes over your cheek again, wiping away the fresh tears. 

“Shitty timing,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. In fact, there’s something almost tender in the way he says it, like he’s trying to hold on to his usual roughness, but it’s slipping through his fingers. 

You let out a shaky laugh, your tears still flowing, but now there’s a warmth building in your chest—hope, maybe. You can feel it in the way he’s holding you, in the way his body is slowly relaxing against yours. He still wants you. He still cares.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I know.”

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The rain continues to fall outside, the world around you moving on without care, but in this small space, it’s just the two of you. Just Katsuki and you, standing in the doorway of his apartment, soaked to the bone and hearts laid bare.

Finally, he pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace that leaves no space between you. His chin rests on top of your head, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his heart beats against yours. 

“Don’t run from me again,” he murmurs, his voice gruff but laced with something soft, something tender. “I won’t fuckin’ let you.” 

You nod against his chest, your arms wrapping around him as tightly as you can. “I won’t. I promise.” 

He’s warm and so familiar, and you pull away from the embrace slowly, your fingertips grazing the sharp edge of his jaw as if grounding yourself in the solidity of him. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and there’s a slight tremor in his breath, a vulnerability that only you get to see. With your hands framing his face, you look up into his eyes—those deep, crimson eyes that burn like embers in the dim light of the hallway—and you murmur, “I love you.”

The words are soft but sure, slipping from your lips like a secret, and they hang in the air between you, filling the space with something fragile yet undeniably real. Katsuki’s breath hitches, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that betrays the storm brewing inside him. His hands, which have always been rough, steady, and unyielding, now grip your waist gently, like he's afraid you might vanish if he holds too tightly.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he closes his eyes for the briefest moment, letting the weight of your confession settle inside him, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that you rarely get to see. It’s raw, unguarded, and it steals the air from your lungs. His head dips, and with a shuddering breath, he captures your lips with his own.

The kiss is tender, a slow unfolding of everything unsaid. It’s not rushed or frantic—it’s a return, a homecoming. It feels like stepping back onto familiar shores after being adrift for too long. His lips, warm and firm, taste of all the things you missed, of safety and fire, of passion restrained but not diminished. His kiss is like the first light of dawn breaking across the horizon, soft yet full of promise. It’s the summer sun that melts the tension from your bones, the serene hush of winter’s first snow, the gentle bloom of spring flowers, and the quiet fall of autumn leaves—all of it wrapped into one. A constant rhythm, pure and right, grounding you in the moment.

Before you realize it, he’s pulling you into his apartment, the door shutting behind you with a soft click. Your heels clatter to the floor in the genkan, forgotten as his strong arms wrap around you, lifting you with effortless grace. Your hands find their place again, cradling his jaw, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips seek yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. You’re weightless in his arms, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he guides you down the familiar hallway, each step measured and deliberate, leading you toward the sanctuary of his bedroom.

The scent of him surrounds you, filling your senses—sharp and smoky, like burning embers, mixed with something inherently Katsuki. You missed this. You missed the way he feels against you, the steady pulse of his heartbeat as it thunders beneath his skin, the way his presence alone fills every corner of the space with warmth.

He lays you gently on the bed, the mattress sinking beneath your weight, and for a moment, he pulls back. The loss of his warmth is brief, but you feel it keenly until he’s tugging his shirt over his head, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, every scar etched into his skin like a map of battles won and lost. His body tells stories—of strength, of endurance, of survival—but all you see is the man who holds you now, the man who wears his heart hidden beneath layers of gruffness and fire.

Your hands move instinctively, tracing the familiar lines of his chest and shoulders. Your fingertips ghost over each scar, each ridge, as if memorizing him all over again. His skin is hot beneath your touch, and your hands curl around the back of his neck, pulling him back to you. His mouth meets yours once more, but this time the kiss is deeper, more urgent, the heat between you building with each passing second.

He welcomes you back like the dawn welcomes the night—slowly, but with an inevitability that feels like fate. His touch is reverent, as if you’re something sacred, something to be cherished. His hands, rough and calloused from years of combat, move with a surprising gentleness as they begin to peel the wet fabric of your dress away from your body. It clings to your skin, soaked through from the rain, but he is patient, his fingers working carefully, unwrapping you from the silk like a gift.

His touch is molten, a slow burn that spreads through you, lighting up every nerve. It’s like molasses—thick, slow, and deliberate—filling the space between you, pulling you deeper into the moment. Katsuki is fire, fierce and untamed, and in his hands, you feel like molten gold, soft and pliable, shaping yourself to the heat of his touch. He moves with purpose, his gaze never leaving yours as he strips away the last barrier between you, leaving you bare beneath him.

When he finally presses his body against yours, skin to skin, it feels like everything you’ve been missing. His warmth envelops you, his presence grounding you in a way that nothing else can. His hands roam over you, tracing every curve, every line, his fingers mapping out the soft planes of your body with a tenderness that contrasts with the fire that burns in his eyes.

There’s something unspoken between you now, something that doesn’t need words. His touch is a silent claim, his fingers skimming over the dips of your waist, the arch of your spine, the softness of your thighs. He knows every inch of you, and yet it feels new all over again, like he’s discovering you for the first time. His hands are steady, but there’s a quiet desperation in the way he holds you, like he’s afraid this moment might slip away if he lets go.

Katsuki’s breath is hot against your skin as he lowers himself down, pressing kisses along your collarbone, down to the hollow of your throat, each one a promise, a vow. His touch is deliberate, a slow, deliberate worship of your body, as if he’s reminding you of everything you are, everything you mean to him. His hands glide over your hips, his fingers brushing the tender skin of your inner thighs, and you arch into him, your breath hitching as you feel the weight of his love in every movement, every touch.

In his arms, you are safe. In his arms, you are whole.

He is fire and strength, and you are his, claimed by the fierce heat that only he can bring. You are molten gold, shaped and refined in the crucible of his love, and together, you burn brighter than the stars.

His lips press against yours, fueled by a newfound hunger, a kind of urgency that pulls a gasp from your throat, a soft whimper that escapes into the space between you. His hands roam your body with a heated reverence, fingers tracing the curves of your waist, the swell of your hips, until one hand dips lower, slipping between your legs. When his finger slides inside you, the sensation is immediate, raw—a sharp intake of breath echoes through him as he feels you clench around him. You’re so warm, so wet, and it sends a shudder down his spine.

You can feel the tremor in him, the restraint, the overwhelming desire bubbling beneath the surface as his forehead presses against yours, breath mingling with yours in the stillness of the room. Another deep pant leaves him as he moves his finger inside you, the motion making you arch into him, your body responding to him as if you were always meant to. But before you can even catch your breath, he pulls away, eyes burning with a fire that ignites something deep inside you, and in one swift motion, he’s pressing his hips against you, rutting the length of his cock against your slick heat.

His body trembles with restraint as he teases you, but soon enough, he can’t hold back. His hand grips your thigh, pulling you closer as he lines himself up, and then he slips inside you—slowly at first, the feeling of him stretching you, filling you, taking you inch by inch until he’s seated fully within you. The world stills, and for a brief moment, it’s just him and you—joined together as one, moving in a rhythm older than time itself.

It feels like floating—weightless, untethered, as if you’re both suspended in the space between worlds. He rolls his hips, a slow, rhythmic tide, and you meet him, each thrust a push and pull, the two of you locked in a quiet dance. It’s like the meeting of the sea and the bioluminescent sands, glowing with heat and light, each touch sparking something deep and primal within you.

You murmur his name, “Katsuki…” your voice breathless and needy, and he responds with a kiss, his lips soft but insistent as they claim yours. He thrusts into you, achingly gentle, his movements precise but tender, each one filled with care. His hips move steadily, his hands cradling your body as though you’re something delicate, something priceless. To him, you’re precious—a masterpiece he’s lucky enough to hold, a delicate thing that he handles with reverence. Every time he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are filled with something deeper than desire—something raw and unspoken, something that ties the two of you together in ways words never could. 

Your hands drift over the hard planes of his chest, tracing the scars that mark his skin—testaments to battles fought and won, to the life he’s lived. Your fingers explore the rough edges of his body, skimming over the taut muscles that ripple beneath his skin, and the stubble along his jaw that scratches lightly against your fingertips. Each touch is full of reverence, because to you, Katsuki isn’t just a work of art; he’s a force of nature. He’s beauty in its rawest form, an Adonis sculpted from lava and tempered by explosions. He’s the embodiment of power, but beneath it, you feel the vulnerability he only ever reveals to you.

Your hands continue to explore his body, memorizing every part of him. You thumb the scars along his shoulders, fingers dancing along the ridges of his abs, and as you do, you marvel at how someone so strong, so unyielding, can be so gentle, so loving. He moves inside you with reverence, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath hot and heavy against your lips. His body presses down against yours, the heat of him sinking into your bones as he thrusts deeper, driving you further into the mattress. His movements are unhurried but deliberate, each one building on the last until the tension in your body coils tight. 

And then it snaps, the pleasure washing over you in waves, pulling you under as you come undone beneath him. His name is the only thing you can manage, whispered over and over like a mantra, like a promise, your hands clutching at him as though he’s the only thing anchoring you to this moment. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes, not from sadness but from the overwhelming emotion of it all—of being with him like this, of feeling loved, cherished.

Katsuki follows you into that blissful fall, his own body trembling as he reaches his release. A broken moan escapes him, raw and guttural, his forehead pressing into the crook of your neck as he holds you close, his thrusts slowing to a stop. His breath is warm against your skin as he cups your cheeks, tilting your face toward him for a kiss that’s softer now, full of unspoken words and emotions too heavy to name.

When he pulls back, his forehead resting gently against yours, his eyes flicker open, and you see everything in them—gold, violet, amber, the brightest and most precious colors shimmering in the depths of his gaze. It’s as though he holds the universe within him, and all of it is focused on you. His lips brush against yours, the softest of touches, and he whispers in that deep, gravelly voice, “I love you too.”

The tears you’ve been holding back spill over, but they’re happy tears, and you blink them away as you smile. You press another kiss to his lips, your heart full, knowing that whatever happens next, you’ve found your way back to him. 

And that’s all that matters.

The aftermath is a world all its own—silent, untouched by the chaos that exists beyond the walls of his bedroom. 

Here, in the quiet glow of the moonlight, everything feels simple. The unspoken tension and complicated emotions that usually color the spaces between you seem to fade, leaving only this moment. It’s just you and Katsuki, wrapped up in each other, connected by something deeper than words could ever capture.

You’re cradled against him, his body solid and warm beneath you. His fingers trace slow, languid lines up and down your side, a repetitive, soothing motion that makes you feel grounded. Your own fingers mirror his, lazily drawing circles over the hard planes of his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths under your touch. The scent of him—burnt caramel, cloves, sandalwood—wraps around you like a familiar blanket. It’s intoxicating and comforting, a part of him that feels so deeply etched into you now, as permanent as carvings on an ancient tree.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The stillness is sacred. But then, as if the weight of everything unsaid finds its way to your lips, you break the silence. "You know," you whisper, your voice soft as it brushes against the darkness, “today I realized that I deserve to take a break. To stop running away from everything.”

Katsuki’s fingers still for a moment on your skin, but then he leans down slightly, a silent acknowledgment that he’s listening. His hand rests at your hip, grounding you both.

“And… and you do too,” you continue, your voice growing a little stronger, though still fragile. "Your mom’s always on you about taking a vacation, right?" You feel his chest rise sharply beneath your head, his body stiffening just slightly. You take a shaky breath, pushing forward with the thought that’s been growing in your mind. “So… I booked two tickets. In the car. On my way here. To Indonesia. A luxury vacation. The plane leaves tomorrow morning.”

For a second, the world pauses. Katsuki freezes, his hand stopping mid-motion, his entire body going still as if he’s trying to process the words. Slowly, he leans up, propping himself on his elbows, his gaze searching your face with a mix of disbelief and confusion. His fingers find your chin, tipping your face toward him so your eyes meet. “You did what?” His voice is low, rough, not quite angry but edged with a bewilderment that you rarely see from him.

You lean into his touch, your heart swelling at the feel of his calloused fingers against your skin. “I want to go away with you,” you say, your voice steady and honest. “I’m tired, and you’re tired, and I just… I want to be with the man I love. To take time for us. Away from everything.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of his breathing. His chest rises and falls beneath you, each breath coming in measured, as if he’s trying to contain the flood of emotions threatening to break through. His jaw tightens, muscles clenching as he looks at you, something raw and vulnerable flickering in his gaze.

It’s like he can’t believe it. Like he’s struggling to understand that you, here in this moment, are choosing him. That you’ve made this grand, impulsive decision for him—for both of you. His eyes dart away, unable to hold your gaze, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. You watch the way his emotions twist inside him, how they tangle up in his mind like a storm that he can’t quite put into words. You can see it all—the disbelief, the hesitation, the way this feels too good to be real for him.

He doesn’t speak, but the weight of his silence says everything. For someone like Katsuki, someone who’s spent his whole life being told he’s too much, too harsh, too aggressive—it’s hard to let himself be wanted like this. To be chosen. And it breaks your heart a little, knowing that this is how deep his vulnerability runs, how much he’s carried on his own without ever asking for anything.

Gently, you reach up, brushing your thumb along his jaw, guiding his face back toward yours. “You deserve this too, Katsuki,” you whisper. “You deserve to take a break. To just… be with someone who loves you.” Your voice softens, a faint crack in the quiet. “Let me love you.”

His breath stutters at those words, his eyes meeting yours again, this time filled with something deeper—something fragile. His hands tighten on your body, and for a moment, you think he might say something. But then, he just exhales shakily, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

You can feel the tension slowly leaving his body, the weight of his resistance melting away as he allows himself to accept what you’re offering. He doesn’t speak, not yet, but his lips brush against yours in the softest of kisses, and you know he’s heard you.

It’s a moment of surrender, not just to you but to the idea that he can have this—that he’s allowed to be loved like this. And as you both lay there, tangled in each other, you realize that this is the start of something new. 

Something real. 

Something that, for once, feels like it’s yours to keep.

There has to be someone sabotaging Tsukiyo, you think. There’s no way this could happen two Fashion Weeks in a row—the final outfits not fitting again.

It’s déjà vu. Minase looks like she’s on the verge of a breakdown. The tension in the room is thick as assistants, stylists, and tailors dart around like bees in a hive, scrambling to fix the chaos unfolding before them. You’re sitting in the same spot you were last time, watching the chaos but strangely calm, Amanai seated beside you. The familiarity of it all is almost comical.

“This can’t just be bad luck, right? Someone has to be sabotaging the brand,” you muse aloud, watching Amanai get her hair touched up while your own makeup artist carefully layers shimmer onto your eyelids. 

Amanai snorts, tilting her head slightly as the stylist adjusts a stray curl. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But at this point, I’m almost used to it. Minase will just do what she always does. Cut some outfits and make sure the important ones fit. These are summer pieces anyway—more skin showing means less fabric to worry about.”

You chuckle, a tired sound that mingles with the hum of panic around you. The Spring/Summer collection is about fluidity and celestial romance, staying true to Tsukiyo’s ethereal identity. You’re supposed to embody that dreamlike essence, but right now it feels more like a fever dream than a romantic one.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. She always manages to pull something off.”

Like clockwork, Minase’s voice cuts through the frenzy. “We’re cutting some outfits!” she announces, her voice laced with an edge of barely-contained frustration. “We’ll focus on the most important pieces. It’ll shorten the show, but it’s all we can do.” She turns to one of the stylists, rubbing her temples with a groan. “At least The Celestial Ripple Dress still fits,” she mutters under her breath, almost as if she's trying to convince herself that this won't be a complete disaster.

You exhale, grateful that your outfit isn’t one of the ones causing trouble. 

With hair and makeup done, you’re hurried to the fitting room, where the assistants and tailors usher you into your first outfit of the night: The Sakura Veil Jumpsuit. It’s an airy, pastel pink piece, with floral appliqués floating on a sheer overlay. The deep V-neckline glimmers with crystal embellishments, catching the light as you move. You feel the soft iridescent embroidery brush against your skin, mimicking the delicate movement of petals in the wind.

It’s snug, but the tailors make some quick adjustments, and soon enough, you’re able to walk comfortably in it. With one final touch-up to your hair and makeup, you prepare yourself for the runway, the whirlwind of activity swirling around you like an unseen storm.

Amanai and Hanari are already at the curtains, peeking out at the venue. Amanai is dressed in The Moonlit Nomad Ensemble, a layered kimono-inspired blazer in misty gray, paired with fluid silk palazzo trousers that make her look like she’s gliding. Embroidered constellations shimmer faintly on the blazer, cinched at the waist with a metallic indigo belt, adding a regal structure to the otherwise ethereal look. 

Hanari is draped in The Ocean Mirage Dress, a sky-blue gown made of sheer layers of chiffon that ripple like water. The bodice is structured with wave-like 3D elements, flowing seamlessly into a skirt of cascading ruffles edged with micro-crystals that glitter with every movement.

Amanai turns to you, her expression calm despite the chaos. “So? Ready?”

You smile wryly, adjusting your boots. “I think so. Just hope I don’t face-plant. These boots are a little slippery, and I don’t think I can handle the embarrassment of falling in front of everyone.”

Hanari snorts, barely suppressing her laughter. “Just make sure to fall gracefully, then. That’ll still fit the theme, right?”

You all share a brief moment of amusement, but soon enough, it’s time to get serious. The smirks and giggles are quickly replaced with the practiced poise of professionals. 

Time to focus.

One by one, you step onto the runway. Hanari goes first, her gown flowing like liquid, followed by Amanai, whose ensemble glints subtly in the soft lighting. Finally, it’s your turn.

The second your foot touches the glossy floor of the runway, the world condenses into a singular moment. The backstage chaos falls away like a distant memory, and all that remains is the rhythmic click of your boots against the floor and the steady pulse of your own breath. The lights are blinding, but you keep your gaze forward, your body moving with effortless grace. You’ve done this a hundred times, but tonight, there’s something sharper about your focus, something more intense.

The audience fades into the background, their murmurs barely registering in your mind. Each step feels deliberate, every movement controlled. You feel the fabric of your jumpsuit shift against your skin, the weight of the crystals on your chest catching the light as you move. The shimmering appliqués float as if alive, and you become a part of Tsukiyo’s dreamscape—an ethereal figure, moving through a world of starlight and fluid beauty.

As you near the end of the runway, you pause, turning slowly to give the audience a full view of the outfit. You hold your head high, projecting an aura of quiet confidence. 

You turn on your heel, making your way back down the runway with steady, deliberate steps, the sound of your boots echo with each click, vibrating deep in your chest. There’s a practiced grace to your movement, but every step feels charged with a weight that goes beyond the runway. You remind yourself to stay poised, to let the outfit speak through your body, through your calm. The audience’s eyes are still on you, but their murmurs barely pierce your bubble of focus.

When you finally step off the runway, a quiet exhale of relief escapes your lips. You feel your muscles relax, but only slightly. There’s still one more outfit to showcase—the most important one of the night. As you slip into the organized frenzy of backstage, assistants swarm you with quick, precise hands, ushering you toward the fitting area for the final look: The Celestial Ripple Dress.

The jumpsuit slides off with ease, and in its place, the assistants fit the silk of the Celestial Ripple Dress against your skin. The fabric feels like liquid, molding to you as though it’s alive. The iridescence of the material shifts between hues of lavender and warm peach, flickering like the first light of dawn. The architectural collar frames your neck and shoulders, delicate patterns flowing from it like lacework, lending you a regal air. The beaded obi-style belt cinches your waist, and as you glance down, you admire the laser-cut lace at the hem, each detail a testament to the craftsmanship of the design.

It’s a vision, a dream, and as you catch your reflection, you feel like a celestial being. But the reality of what’s about to come slams back into you with the controlled chaos around you—stylists pulling at your hair, makeup artists adding touches of shimmer to your already glowing skin. You still carry a faint tan from your trip to Indonesia two months ago, and the subtle golden tone contrasts beautifully against the soft tones of the dress.

Before you can fully immerse yourself in the calm before the storm, Minase appears at your side, her energy frantic but precise. She adjusts a few last details on the dress, her fingers working quickly.

“Listen,” she starts, her voice low but urgent. “Remember what I told you. Confidence. You need to own this moment. Make sure every single person in that room sees you—sees the dress. And that final pose?” She gives you a meaningful look, her eyes wide with intensity. “It has to be perfect. You need to look like you’ve stepped straight out of the stars. When the lights dim, and you see those white LEDs flicker, that’s your cue. Got it?”

You nod, giving her a reassuring smile despite the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Don’t worry, I got this.”

Minase’s eyes flicker with a mix of tension and trust, and she nods before stepping back to allow the final touch-ups. The makeup artists dab a bit more highlighter on your cheekbones, and the hair stylists smooth out the last few tendrils framing your face, ensuring everything is in place.

As you take a deep breath, steadying yourself, the assistants guide you toward the runway entrance. Your pulse races, but the adrenaline is steadying, sharpening your focus. Around you, the backstage murmurs grow softer, almost muted against the steady beat of your own heart. Several people wish you luck as you pass, but their words blur into the background as your mind narrows into a singular focus: the final walk. Amanai and Hanari catch your eye from the side, their reassuring smiles grounding you in the moment. You return the smile, grateful for their support, but you know that no amount of encouragement can ease the pressure bearing down on you.

The runway lights begin to dim, casting the space into an ethereal shadow. The energy in the room shifts—hushed but charged with anticipation. A shiver of excitement runs through you as the white LED lights flicker, signaling the start of your walk. 

Here we go.

You step onto the runway, and the moment your heels hit the floor, every pair of eyes in the room locks onto you. The dress catches the dim light, shimmering like a pool of liquid starlight, and with each step, the fabric shifts between hues, casting soft reflections across the room. The collar frames your face, a delicate extension of your own elegance, and the beaded belt accentuates your silhouette, guiding every movement with a subtle grace.

The world seems to fall away again. It’s just you, the runway, and the audience. You walk with the kind of confidence Minase drilled into you—a confidence that commands attention, yet exudes an effortless air. The hem of the dress whispers against your legs as you move, the intricate lace catching the softest hints of light with every step.

You hear the faint click of cameras, the subtle murmurs of awe from the audience, but it all blends into the background. In this moment, you are no longer just a model walking the runway; you are the embodiment of Tsukiyo’s celestial dream, a being that belongs to the stars.

As you approach the end of the runway, you pause, turning gracefully to give the audience one last view of the dress. The delicate collar flares slightly as you move, and you hold your final pose—a celestial queen, untouchable yet mesmerizing. You feel the weight of the moment, the pressure, but also the thrill of it. The audience is enraptured, their eyes drinking in every detail, and for a heartbeat, the world seems to hold its breath with you.

And then you turn, gliding back down the runway with the same deliberate grace. The energy in the room hums, and you can feel the attention still on you, as if the entire space is caught in the glow of your presence. 

As you step off the runway, the weight of the night slowly lifts from your shoulders, and you release a deep sigh of relief. The adrenaline that had been pumping through your veins starts to ease, leaving you with a calm satisfaction. “Good job!” echoes from all around you, stylists and assistants offering you quick words of praise as you make your way further backstage. 

Minase rushes toward you, her arms enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug, squeezing tightly. You return the hug, a wide smile spreading across your face. You know you did good tonight—really good. 

The look on Minase’s face is proof of it. 

You’ve done it again. 

The afterparty is in full swing by the time you arrive. 

The warm hum of low conversation and soft jazz mixes with the gentle clink of glasses. Dim lighting washes the room in an intimate glow, as glittering gowns and sleek tuxedos fill the luxurious space. The familiar click of your heels echoes against the polished marble floor, blending into the cadence of the night. Your eyes sweep the crowd, taking in the lavish surroundings, but you're instantly drawn to Amanai and Hanari, who are comfortably seated near the bar, their faces bright with laughter.

You’re dressed in a liquid gold slip dress that shimmers like molten metal with every movement. The delicate spaghetti straps highlight your shoulders, and the draped cowl neckline adds a touch of sensuality, balancing elegance and allure perfectly. The fabric clings to your body just enough to accentuate your figure before pooling subtly at your feet in a way that feels ethereal, otherworldly. Every step you take makes the high-shine metallic fabric catch the soft lighting, creating a fluid, rippling effect as though you’re a goddess dipped in gold. Paired with minimalist strappy heels, you feel the kind of confidence that only comes with wearing something that makes you feel utterly captivating.

But before you can reach Amanai and Hanari, you feel the familiar warmth of a hand sliding against your back. You already know who it is before you even turn around. There’s no mistaking the touch, the possessive yet gentle slide of a palm against your spine, the electric tension that runs through your body when he’s near.

A slow smile curls onto your lips before you even look over your shoulder, and when you finally glance back, your heart gives a small flutter as you meet Katsuki’s gaze. His expression is amused, eyes glinting with that familiar intensity you know so well. The edges of his mouth are curved slightly upward, a rare smirk tugging at his lips as if he’s just as aware of the magnetic pull between the two of you.

“Hi,” you breathe, the word barely a whisper as you turn fully toward him.

Without a second thought, your hand comes up, fingers curling lightly around his strong jaw, guiding his face down to yours. The kiss that follows is soft, slow, and searing. There’s something intoxicating about the way his lips move against yours, the way he holds back, teasing, yet still letting you feel the depth of his affection. When you pull away, you press another quick kiss to his lips, something playful. His eyes are half-lidded, lazy but brimming with affection, a softness in his expression that only you ever get to see.

Katsuki presses a kiss to your thumb, his lips warm against your skin. You wipe the smudge of lip gloss from his lips with your thumb, a soft chuckle escaping you. “You didn’t answer my texts,” you say quietly, your voice carrying a playful edge. “I didn’t know if you’d already arrived or not.”

He lets out a tch, glancing over his shoulder toward the back of the room where his friends are lounging. “Came with Shitty Hair and the others,” he mutters, nodding toward Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Mina. They’re grinning and waving at you like a bunch of excited kids. You smile and wave back, but your focus quickly returns to Katsuki.

“You did good out there,” he says, his voice almost too soft for him, but it’s laced with pride. It sends warmth flooding through your chest.

“You think so?” you ask, searching his face, feeling your heart swell when you see the genuine admiration in his eyes.

He hums, nodding slightly. “Yeah.” His tone is gruff, but the sincerity is clear.

You tease him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “So, I looked good then?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes in that familiar way of his, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. “You always do,” he mutters, his hands slipping down to rest on your hips, his thumb brushing the fabric of your dress. There’s an understated affection in his touch, like he’s always more comfortable showing his feelings through actions rather than words.

Your fingers smooth over the fabric of his blazer, admiring the sharp, tailored fit of his all-black ensemble. He looks effortlessly handsome, dressed in a sleek black blazer with subtle metallic details that add an edge to the classic silhouette. The buttoned-up dress shirt underneath enhances his sharp jawline, and the wide-leg pleated trousers give him a sense of casual elegance. He looks sophisticated, polished, but still undeniably him. 

Your Katsuki.

“Well, you look pretty good yourself,” you say, your smile widening as you take in his appearance, your hands lingering on his chest. “Real handsome.”

He scoffs again, but you catch the faint blush dusting his cheeks, and it makes you smile even more. He always does this—acts tough, but you know how much your words affect him. His fingers flex against your waist, a small tell that he’s pleased.

He still has a faint tan from your trip to Indonesia, and the memory stirs a warm ache in your chest. It's hard to believe it's been two months since that whirlwind adventure. You can still picture the lush rice fields, ancient temples, breathtaking sunsets, traditional villages, and those perfect beaches.

Indonesia had been like a dream. 

It was everything you both needed. The two of you sat down and talked, really talked, about your feelings. Katsuki had opened up in his own gruff way, admitting how he felt after walking out of your apartment that day—how he wasn’t sure if he was just a fling or something more. You shared your own fears, how you’d been too scared to admit to yourself how much he meant to you.

And in that moment, everything felt right. 

The rest of the vacation was a dream—relaxing on the beach, hiking through the jungles, trying local food, and, of course, spending every night tangled in each other’s arms. You hadn’t realized how much you missed his touch, his voice, until you had it again. Every morning and night spent wrapped in him felt like a piece of you had been restored.

And now, you’re dating. Officially; something you hadn’t dared to hope for before the trip, and the thought still makes your heart race sometimes.

“So, I look good now as well?” you tease, a playful glint in your eyes as you step closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body.

Katsuki raises a brow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His thumb brushes over the golden necklace around your neck—the one with the first kanji of his name as the pendant, a gift he gave you after the trip. His other hand remains firm against your back, his touch grounding you.

“‘Course you do,” he mumbles, voice low and steady, filled with that quiet, unspoken affection only he can give.

“Sweet talker,” you tease softly, your lips quirking into a smile as you gently smooth a hand down Katsuki’s chest. His warmth seeps through the fabric of his sleek black blazer, grounding you in this moment of intimacy. 

He raises a brow but doesn’t refute it, letting your words settle with that usual gruffness, though you can see the faint trace of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “Let me say hi to the girls, then I’ll join you at your table, okay?” 

He nods and leans in, pressing a soft, quick kiss to your lips, and you can feel the possessiveness in the way he lingers for just a second longer than needed. His lips brush against yours with a tenderness that feels almost out of character, but you know it’s him—Katsuki showing affection in his own way. You pull away and pat his chest, turning to make your way toward Amanai and Hanari at the bar. 

You glide through the room, feeling the eyes on you once more—not from the runway this time, but from the afterparty’s crowd. Your golden slip dress catches the ambient light, shimmering like liquid gold with every step. You’re in your element, but your heart is still wrapped up in Katsuki’s touch, in the way he looks at you like you're the center of his world, even in a room filled with people.

Greeting Amanai and Hanari doesn’t take long—just a quick exchange of hugs and a few words of praise for your performance on the runway. You laugh softly as they gush over your dress, the compliments filling you with warmth, but there’s an eagerness to get back to Katsuki. 

By the time you return to his table, he already has a drink waiting for you, of course. He always pays attention to the details, even when he pretends not to. As you approach, you quickly go around the group, greeting everyone with hugs and smiles. Kirishima gives you a bear hug, Kaminari’s enthusiasm is infectious, and Mina’s wide grin feels like a mirror to your own.

“You looked so cool!” Kaminari practically bounces in his seat, his eyes wide with admiration. 

Sero, his usual laid-back self, nods in approval while toying with an unlit cigarette between his lips. He smirks. “Yeah, you killed it out there. Not surprised, though.”

You settle into your spot beside Katsuki, his arm naturally wrapping around your waist as you lean into his solid frame. His presence is comforting—like a rock in the midst of the swirling energy around you. You smile and shrug modestly. “Thanks, guys. I’m just glad that starting tomorrow, I have a few days off. A mini vacation before the real work starts.”

It feels good to let that thought settle in—time to recharge before diving back into the hectic world of photoshoots and campaigns. You’ve been looking forward to this breather for weeks now.

Kirishima, always the supportive one, grins at you. “Good for you! You should take all the time you need.” His warm, encouraging tone is typical of him, and it only adds to the sense of relief that washes over you.

Mina hums in agreement, her bright eyes twinkling as she takes a sip from her drink. “Yeah, you deserve it. Fashion Week looked intense this year.”

You nod, feeling the tiredness start to creep in, but it’s a good kind of exhaustion—the kind that comes after you’ve given it your all. “It was, but honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s just… fulfilling, you know?”

Katsuki’s hand tightens slightly around your waist at your words, his quiet approval always there even when he doesn’t voice it. His presence beside you, even in these small moments, is grounding. He’s never one to shower you with compliments in public, but his actions—the way he holds you close, the way he’s always there when you need him—speak volumes.

Mina leans in, her smile mischievous. “So, what’s the plan for your mini vacation? You and Bakugou jetting off somewhere?”

Katsuki scoffs, his eyes flicking toward her with mild annoyance, but you catch the subtle way his hand remains on your back, protective and reassuring. You laugh softly. “We haven’t decided yet. Maybe something low-key. Relaxing.”

Kaminari nudges Sero with a grin. “Bet it’ll involve lots of… relaxing.”

You roll your eyes, chuckling at the innuendo, while Katsuki gives Kaminari a warning glare that shuts him up quickly. “Keep talkin’, Sparky, and you’ll regret it.”

“Jeez, I’m just kidding, man,” Kaminari holds his hands up in surrender, laughing nervously. 

You smile and lean your head against Katsuki’s shoulder, feeling his body relax under your touch. “Honestly, I’m just excited to spend some time with this guy. We don’t get enough of that these days.”

At that, Katsuki glances down at you, the barest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “We’ll figure something out.” His voice is low, private, as though the two of you are the only ones in the room.

You smile softly, leaning up to kiss Katsuki’s cheek. The subtle gesture of affection makes his face flush slightly, but he keeps his composure by pretending to sip on his drink, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone. It’s a small, rare show of his vulnerability, the way his cool façade slips just for you. Even though he’s trying to play it off, you can feel the warmth in his posture, the way his arm tenses slightly as if to pull you closer. 

His friends, however, are far from oblivious. Kaminari and Mina are practically glowing with grins as they exchange glances, amused by the way Katsuki tries so hard to act nonchalant. Kirishima's grin is wide and genuine, clearly happy for his best friend. They know this side of him, the softer side he shows only to you, and it’s a sight they cherish—though they’d never dare tease him about it, not seriously anyway.

“I just want somewhere with a beach,” you continue, keeping the conversation flowing as you sip your drink. “Maybe Okinawa. Maybe the Caribbean. I’m still figuring it out with our schedules, too.” Your voice is light, relaxed, but the longing for a break is evident in the way you speak. The whirlwind of fashion shows and shoots, though thrilling, has left you craving some time away—a place where you can unwind and just be.

Katsuki’s thumb absentmindedly strokes your waist as you speak, his subtle way of showing that he’s listening, even if he doesn’t say much.

“But I do know that I need a break,” you laugh softly, the exhaustion creeping into your tone, though it’s balanced with a sense of excitement for whatever comes next. “Something relaxing, somewhere far away from all of this chaos.”

Kaminari nods in understanding, his carefree grin softening into something a bit more thoughtful. “No, I get it. This whole thing is a lot, and you’ve been working hard. You gotta enjoy some time off.” His words are simple, but there’s an appreciation in his tone for the effort you’ve been putting in. Hero work, modeling, it’s all a lot, and sometimes people forget how much goes on behind the scenes.

You nod in agreement, grateful for his words, and the conversation begins to shift. Soon enough, they start talking about their hero work—patrols, training sessions, recent missions. You find yourself listening more than speaking, content to let the conversation flow around you. Your hand rests on Katsuki’s thigh, the soft fabric of his trousers warm under your palm. Absentmindedly, you run your fingers up and down, feeling the solid muscle beneath your touch. It’s a comforting gesture, one that feels natural between the two of you now, and you notice how it subtly relaxes him.

Katsuki, who usually has a sharp edge in his voice when he talks, is different tonight. His gruff tone is still there—because that’s just him—but it’s not harsh. He doesn’t bark his words or throw in as many biting remarks. When he speaks, it’s with measured authority, chiming in with his own thoughts on their hero work without dominating the conversation. He’s relaxed, at ease with you at his side.

You catch snippets of the conversation: Kaminari rambling about a recent mission that went awry, Sero and Mina debating the best techniques for urban rescue, Kirishima enthusiastically talking about new training regimens. Katsuki listens, occasionally grumbling an opinion or a sarcastic comment, but you can feel the quiet respect between him and his friends. They look up to him, even when they joke around, and he, in his own way, values their friendship deeply.

Every now and then, Katsuki’s hand moves to your back, brushing against your skin as if to remind himself that you’re still here, grounding him. It’s a small gesture, but it makes your heart flutter every time.

You gaze at him—really look at him—and it hits you: your boyfriend is like a supernova. His eyes, red but gleaming gold in the light, his messy blonde hair somehow still effortlessly handsome, and the way he fills out that sleek black blazer and those perfectly tailored pants. He looks absolutely irresistible.

And then, an idea starts to take shape in your mind.

You can’t help but grin mischievously, leaning further into Katsuki's side. You press a quick, feather-light kiss against the corner of his jaw when no one's looking, letting your fingers lazily trace patterns on his thigh. Your foot slides up and down along his ankle, a slow, deliberate tease that makes him stiffen slightly, his breath catching in his throat. For just a moment, his usual composure falters, and you feel the way his muscles tense under your touch.

A wicked grin spreads across your face as you lean in close to whisper, your breath warm against his ear, "Meet me in the bathroom from last time."

Katsuki’s sharp inhale is barely audible, but you hear it, and it only makes your grin widen. His reaction is perfect—a mixture of shock and anticipation. He tries to maintain his cool, but you can feel the tension radiating off of him, his grip on the glass in his hand tightening just slightly.

You pull back as if nothing happened, your expression innocent as you stand up. "I’m just heading to the bathroom," you tell the group with a casual smile, and no one bats an eye. But Katsuki knows better. His gaze follows you, smoldering, even as he tries to act unaffected.

With a teasing sway of your hips, you walk away, knowing full well that he's watching. The sounds of the party fade as you make your way to the more secluded part of the venue, the quiet settling around you. There’s a pleasant thrum in your body, the buzz of alcohol adding to the heady anticipation that builds with each step. You move through the hallways with ease, your heart pounding just a bit faster as you turn the familiar corners.

Slipping inside the private bathroom, you take a moment to check your reflection. The liquid gold of your dress shimmers under the soft lighting, clinging perfectly to your curves. You snap a few mirror selfies, the excitement bubbling up inside you, and even take a moment to fix your makeup. 

A few minutes pass before you hear the door creak open behind you. Katsuki slips inside, his presence filling the small room immediately. His face is flushed, his usual scowl more pronounced, but you can tell he’s fighting it—his embarrassment, his frustration at how easily you get to him. It makes you laugh, a soft, teasing sound that fills the space.

"Don't look so grumpy," you tease, turning to face him fully. "You're about to get the best head ever, honey."

His ears turn an even deeper shade of red, the blush spreading across his neck, but all he can manage is a low, unintelligible grumble. He looks almost flustered, which is rare for him, and it only makes you smile wider. Before you can say anything else, he steps forward, wrapping his arms around your waist, his body pressing against yours from behind. His breath is warm against your skin as he buries his nose in the crook of your shoulder, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss there.

The warmth of his mouth on your skin sends a shiver down your spine. His lips linger for a moment, soft and deliberate, before he pulls back, resting his head against yours. He’s relaxed now, his earlier tension melting away as his eyes become heavy-lidded, the earlier scowl gone. His hands stay firmly on your waist, holding you close, and you can feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest behind you.

You smile at both of your reflections in the mirror—Katsuki looking uncharacteristically soft, his gaze half-lidded and affectionate, while you’re practically glowing with warmth. It’s moments like this that remind you of why you love him so much. Despite the brash exterior, the sharp words, and the gruff demeanor, he’s always so gentle with you. He’s always so careful, so loving, in a way that makes you feel treasured.

"I love you," you say softly, turning your head to press a kiss on his cheek. He lets you, his lips curving into a faint smile before he tilts his head to capture your lips in a soft, whispery kiss. It’s slow, tender, and full of unspoken affection, his way of saying what he’s never been good at putting into words. 

"Love you too," he mumbles against your lips, the words barely audible but sincere.

The simple exchange fills you with a sense of warmth, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face next. "Now, let’s get down to business," you say, your voice light with amusement.

Katsuki snorts, rolling his eyes, but there’s a trace of a smirk on his lips. "Yeah," he grumbles, his tone playful, "let’s get down to business."

You laugh softly, your heart swelling as you realize—this is your life now. Moments like this, the quiet intimacy, the teasing, the shared affection—it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of it. 

With Katsuki, it’s always exciting, always a perfect blend of passion and tenderness. 

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

final notes:

thanks for sticking around and for reading! this was such a fun story to write, and i hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i did.

here is my ko-fi :) as some of you may know, i’ve been sick and haven’t been able to work as much, so any support would mean a lot. no pressure, of course!

again, thank you so much, and until next time!

Not Just Friends - M.List -

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

The Beginning blurb

Headcanons : just explains your relationship / his side of things more.

Prologue : 3.2k words (highly recommend reading this, fills some gaps)

Part 1 : 3.6k words

Part 2 : 3.4k words

Part 3 : 4.3k words

Part 4 : 3.8k words

Part 5 : 10k words

Part 6 : 5.4k words

Part 7 : 8.1k words

Part 8 : 2.6k words

Part 9 : 5.1k words

Part 10 : 3.1k words

Part 11 : 6.7k words

Part 12 : 2.2k words

Part 13 : 3..4k words Final Part

Thank you for all the support! It's not the best but I hope you all enjoyed!

Everything is also unedited and not reread

If you want a tag list, please comment or message/ask me <3 (I hit tag limit so idk what to do now)

Any and all post of mine relating to this story can be found in the first tag of each post: #not just friends katsuki

twenty three.

You hated Katsuki Bakugo. And he hated you back. Ever since you both butted heads back in highschool it'd been a constant back and forth between you both. It's only when you graduate and slowly drift apart from eachother - that you can finally breathe. Until you're back into his line of sight and working alongside him - courtesy of his lovely PR team. And then your PR teams decide that it'd be best for both of your reputations - that you both start a fake relationship. And it sounded stupid but now it's kinda working? So maybe it's just best that you play along...

♡ rivals to lovers / fake dating

♡ cw / tw : alcohol, cussing, suggestiveness, g/n reader, will include written parts

♡ currently in progress

كاتسوكي - baby's only twenty three. - باكوغو

⠀ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ⠀⠀( 23 - Chase Atlantic )

Meet the cast !

-> Bakusquad

-> Dekusquad

── ACT ONE.

Chapter 01.

Chapter 02.

Chapter 03.

Chapter 04.

Chapter 05.

── ACT TWO.

tba.

── ACT THREE.

tba.

taglist [OPEN] : @luvseraphh - @tlissablr - @havemyheartt - @smelliottle - @sakurayashiro - @peachesvault - @qyuin - @kaidostwin - @wonubby - @moochiwoochi - @coldnightshark - @kalulakunundrum - @sexylexy12

© HTTPS-BAKUGO. Do not steal, copy or use any of my work for AI. Legal action will take place if caught.

ALL OUT OF LUCK

pairing. k. bakugou x reader

synopsis. you had the biggest, fattest crush on bakugou katsuki in high school, which granted you weird looks and judgment from those who found out, because why, when you could fawn over prince-like todoroki or manly kirishima instead? fast forward to 10 years later, though, and now the joke’s on them, because #2 pro-hero dynamight just got dubbed the hottest bachelor of the year. but that doesn’t matter, because you’re over him now. you’ve been over him, ever since that butchered attempt at confessing where he dismissed you as a gen ed extra before you could even get the words out. so why, all of a sudden—and an entire decade later—do you have to work with him on a top-secret mission?

status. completed (42.4k)

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), a lot of cussing (bkg-typical), several mentions of bullying & discrimination (quirk supremacy), reader has a quirk :0, reader is alluded to being smaller than bkg, canon-typical violence, mentions of food, mentions of physical and mental health issues, nsfw themes (is there gonna be eventual smut? fuck around and find out)

links. ao3

꩜ .ᐟ chapter one

꩜ .ᐟ chapter two

꩜ .ᐟ chapter three

꩜ .ᐟ chapter four

꩜ .ᐟ chapter five

꩜ .ᐟ chapter six

꩜ .ᐟ chapter seven

꩜ .ᐟ chapter eight

꩜ .ᐟ chapter nine

insecurities is just the most common thing a human being can experience..no matter your power, strong will, immaculate self discipline, insecurities are normal and everyone goes through it once in a while.

And like everyone else, you have your own insecurities. Being fat is something everyone seems to look down on. Everything is funnier and way easier to make fun of when you're fat. You hate looking at yourself and seeing your body. Your chubby tummy, your fat arms and squishy cheeks. They were the bare minimum of what you disliked about yourself, dare you say hate.

It will always befuddle you when you see your super handsome strong and admirable boyfriend. I mean he's well built, sexy, and damn was he just blatantly perfect. There's no point in pointing out small features about him when everything you seen was perfect. Anyone with eyes could see he is a walking piece of art perfectly made.

It hurts you to see that you're holding something like him down. It makes you feel terrible.

You're sulking in bed, you haven't moved since he's left this morning. It worries him terribly. It's normal for you to feel gross and icky but that doesn't mean it doesn't upset him as well. He hates seeing you cry, and when it gets this bad he can't help that stinging feeling he feels his heart give.

While you're hidden under the cover not bothering to lift your head up to see anything he slowly and quietly walked towards you, a small smile on his face as he climbed into bed behind you. You feel the extra dip in the bed added given his weight. you open your eyes beneath the cover before you swing the cover off of you whipping your head around to see your loving boyfriend.

Calm eyes full of love and adoration for you. He scoffs lightly and pulls you into a deep and tight hug causing you to whine. Small kisses are planted on top of your head while he holds you closely and you listen to his breath, his heart beating behind his chest.

“ ’s everything okay.”

It wasn't really a question but it was good to feel like he cared. Of course you knew he did, he cared so much and he made sure that you knew that....in his own weird ways.

You give a small nod before you try to scooch impossibly closer to him. He chuckled above you and sinks deeper into the comfort of the bed, not bothering to remove the clothes he was wearing after the long day he's had. Holding you was simply enough.

Sure he might not be done much of anything, but him just being near you was enough to make you feel loved. Like regardless of your weight, you're loved. He had a knack for that, he was a damn good person and an even better boyfriend. You were impossibly lucky, is all you could think.

“ I love you. y'know that.”

You nod again, he hums in disapproval above you his brows furrowing as he looks down at you giving the top of your head a rather aggressive kiss before he grabs you by your chin and cranes your head up to his so you can face him, he gives you a stern yet pouty look huffing as he stared down at you.

There is no way this big strong manly (for the most part) man was sitting here pouting. If only the world could see your man now. He was adorable that's for sure. You can't help the giggles and laughs that escape you as you stare up at him, admiring his handsome yet cute features. He truly was a work of art, the gods definitely took their precious time sculpting him and those abs.

“ I love you.”

He says once more while he continues to pout. You snicker and realize what's got him so peaved, he wants you to say 'i love you' back. You always say it back when he says it to you, mainly because it's true, you do love him as well. But another reason is because it makes you feel like he loves you just that little bit more when you say it.

For the fun of it, you decided you weren't gonna say it. Just to see how far you could really take it. A small displeased groan leaves him as he eyes you up and down eyes squinting at you as your teasing smile grows wider, you try your best not to crack but you can't help it. He's too cute, you burst out in laughter and let your head fall onto his chest.

He groans and kisses you all over, pouting and slightly annoyed with you but he can't deny the fact that he loves you far too much. You eventually tire yourselves out, small giggles leaving your two motionless and entwined bodies. Your arms draped over his body while his legs were in between yours, fingers locked together as you hold hands smiles on both of your tired faces.

He looks over to see your eyes closed, you weren't exactly asleep just in more of a dazed estate really thankful for what you have and how much love you feel even when you get in this mindset. A heavy sigh leaves him as he looks back up at the ceiling deciding he'll just do what he needs to in the morning. He quickly sheds his day clothes off and turns in for the night in only his boxers holding you close and kissing your temple, his hand on your tummy as he occasionally squeezes it, giving you a ticklish yet discomforting feeling.

You squirm at the touch and then to give him a warning look that he simply dismissed with a smirk and a roll of his eyes. He pulls you closer and chuckles in your ear lightly, you can feel his breath fan the side of your face as he sighs heavily.

It was hard to feel insecure about your body when regardless of what he does he managed to make you feel loved.

mha ➥ izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, EJIROU KIRISHIMA, mirio togata, denki kaminari silently.

hq ➥ HINATA SHOYOU, BOKUTO KOTAROU, atsumu miya, kuroo tetsuro, asahi azumane but quietly aswell.

MHA master list

Bunny!Izuku who acts like a brat but you finally had enough of his shitty behavior.

He was messing with you a lot, taking away your stuff and ruining them,but you feel bad punishing him or doing something to stop him. He looked so cute and Sweet,he is such a pretty bunny you can't bring yourself to stop him.

Well you finally had enough of him,of his bull crap. What pushed you to this point was when he made holes into your favorite shirt. You loved it so much but now it was completely ruined and you couldn't wear it anymore.

He actually upset you this time. He was not getting away with it.

Bunny!Izuku who tries to get away by acting all innocent and cute, knowing that those tricks usually work on you. He tries to cuddle with you and starts rubbing his chin on your hand. Well you just pushed him off you.

You punished him by refusing to cuddle and pet him. He was a cocky brat but he loved physical touch a lot so when you refused to cuddle him to sleep he was shocked. You never refused him like this.

Why wasn't his cute adorable face working to trick you anymore? What happened to you? He wanted you to hold him and pet his ears while he falls asleep! You always do that!

Bunny!Izuku who started begging and apologizing, whining to you non stop.

"Please,I said I'm sorry! I didn't mean to ruin your shirt!"

He did in fact mean to ruin it, knowing that it'll piss you off but he didn't think you'd actually get this upset about it.

He does this a lot, throwing away your things,ruining them, hiding them, but you always just forgave him,so now that you won't let him get away with it he doesn't know what to do.

"But you promised me we'll cuddle, please pet me? Just my ears, please,you know how good it feels..I love your hands on me, please"

He's whining while following you around the house, demanding pets and cuddles.

He thumps his feet when you refuse him. He also huffs and pouts at you whenever you tell him to piss off.

Bunny!Izuku who started genuinely crying after two days of you refusing to cuddle him or give him any kind physical touch. He is trying to snuggle into your embrace as his tears get on your shirt.

He was no longer the cocky and bold bunny,as he is just begging for your attention.

"Please,I'm sorry, please hold me again,I miss you,I miss your touch. I promise I won't ruin your clothes again,I won't touch them anymore!"

You still refuse to give into him and his pleas.

｡⁠☆Loser Boyfriend｡⁠.ﾟ⁠+⁠ 

☆Cw: one use of "her", Mina calls you girl once, embarrassment, fluff, humor, rookie!prohero!deku

"Izuku, dude, no offense, but how did you land that?"

Izuku turns to Denki, looking just as lost as he does. There's a little flush on his cheeks and a wide eyed expression on his face. The boy looks like a confused baby dear, which truly only adds to Denki's confusion.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"Teach me your ways." Denki says, comically whipping out a notepad from his pants pocket. "Did you grovel? Cry? Feed her a love potion but disguise it as juice so that she would drink it, but have no clue what it was?"

"N-No of course not!... And I'm pretty sure that would be illegal anyway..."

Denki shrugs, "Hey I don't know your life. You could be into some weird shit on the down low, you seem the type!"

Izuku responds with an eye roll. If anyone 'seems the type' it's Mineta and Denki himself. They turn back towards you instead of continuing the conversation. You're still in the same position you were in before; fully leaned over the back of the couch, legs closed with one slightly hanging in the air, while the rest of you is inside Mina's personal space giggling at something she's showing you on her phone.

You're in some cute little outfit that Izuku helped you pick out, a rare case, since Izuku still wears almost exclusively punny t-shirts and sweats. The only reason he helped is because it's your first time meeting his friends and former classmates, you just wanted to make sure the outfit wasn't too little or too much. This is not to say he was much help.

Izuku feels almost entranced by you, and you're not even looking at him. You haven't glanced his way since Mina took your attention, actually. Izuku could start pouting if he wasn't too busy ogling your backside. He's so busy he misses the picture Denki snaps at the enraptured look on his face.

"C'mon man, let's go raid the snacks before Kaachan forces us to leave the kitchen."

Denki's arm around Izuku's shoulder shakes him out of his stupor and he nods in agreement, not really having heard what he said at all. He allows Denki to lead him to the kitchen with only minimal glancing behind his back, just to get a little more time to soak in your image.

But he doesn't expect your eyes to catch. He has no time to prepare for the heat in his pink cheeks to spread to his ears, no time to prepare for your smile to make his heart thump in his chest. It makes him lightly stumble in his steps and turn to face forward again, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

"Oh, Izu! Can you come back for just a sec?"

Izuku breaks out of Denki's hold with not a single lick of hesitation, embarrassment be damned. His world shortens and zooms in when you talk, the feeling of embarrassment, as well as Denki's voice, becomes muffled in the face of it. None of that matters if you're the one who needs him.

"Look at this picture Mina has of you!"

It's the picture All Might took of him before he bulked up. The one where he's dirty and sweating and crying after trying to haul a fridge across a beach. Izuku thinks he might die. Where did she even get that picture?

His face must say a lot, because both you and Mina burst out laughing. You're trying to reassure him, but you're laughing so hard you're struggling to gain a breath to string words together. If the floor swallowed Izuku whole right now, he would be grateful. It was a terrible idea to bring you to meet his classmates, especially a gossip like Mina.

"Oh, baby no, don't look like that!" You gasp, placing a hand on his shoulder. It's not nearly as comforting as you're trying to make it be.

"Izuku you look like a total loser, good thing you gained some muscle there, pipsqueak!" Mina chortles.

"Oh stop it! He doesn't look like a... Loser... I think it's cute!"

"Keep telling yourself that!"

Izuku has never considered the merits of getting hit by a bus before, now is a better time than ever to start.

Your arms wrap around him, and he instinctually hugs you back. You press your still smiling face into his chest, and turn towards Mina, still a little breathless.

"It's okay Izuku, I'll protect you from Mina's mean words." You giggle.

Mina is quick to start booing you, but Izuku doesn't miss the picture of him being sent to an unsaved number in her phone. Oh she's going to get it next time they spare together, and he will make absolutely sure it is soon. She doesn't get to run away from the enemy she has created today.

"Whose side are you even on, girl?" Mina huffs playfully, turning back to her phone and sitting back down on the couch.

The party goes smoothly after that, mostly because Izuku doesn't leave your side for the rest of the night. He refuses to let any of his other classmates show you blackmail. Even when you go to the bathroom he stands right outside the door, waiting for you to come back. At one point during the night Katsuki told him he looks like a stray puppy, and before he could deny it, you responded, "it's cute, part of his charm". He elected to ignore the way it made his chest puff out.

He likes to believe you think of him less as a puppy and more of a guard dog. He will not be confirming or denying this with you.

Before long, the party is over. Despite the little mishap with Mina earlier, he's satisfied. You were both fed well, and you very clearly had a good time with his friends, so he considers the night a success. He knew that you'd been nervous about the whole thing, his reassurances hadn't done much to sway you, but you had a great time. Just like he said you would.

As he's pulling the car out of the driveway, you turn to him, a mischievous smile spread across your face. Izuku hopes you don't notice how heavily he swallows when you look at him, your expression is making him nervous.

"Mina sent me that picture of you."

The car lurches as he slams on the brakes. "She gave you her phone number?! Noo she's gonna show you how much of a loser I am!" He whines, putting his head into the steering wheel.

"Izu, my love, you are a bonafide prohero who's about to hit the top 30 barely two years out of highschool, you are not a loser."

Izuku turns to you with a wobbly smile, forehead still lying on the steering wheel. "U-Uhm no, I totally am. Hero work aside."

You giggle, his heart stutters again.

"Well you're my loser then."

"Yours?" Izuku flushes.

"Mine."

And well, being a loser isn't so bad if it means he gets to be yours. Your boyfriend. Your guard dog. Your puppy. Your loser. Your anything. He can be anything, as long as he's yours.

Love men who are losers and very smitten for their sweethearts, what can I say

｡⁠☆Requests open

weird girl smau izuku edition... please....

weird girl: i. midoriya edition !!

☆ : fem!reader, fluff, crack, one itty bitty suggestive joke

✄ : i feel like a lwk make him too mean but he is such a bitch tbh so idk

- in which you’re midoriya’s weird gf !

Having the Number One pro hero as your boyfriend is not easy.

Especially when you're a pro hero yourself.

And especially when your relationship is supposed to be a secret.

And even more especially when your boyfriend needs to be around you every second of every day like his life depends on it.

Izuku's a sweet man, he always has been and always will be. But sweet isn't even close to the word someone could use to describe how he treated you. In fact, even infatuated wouldn't be sufficient.

But Izuku's love has a price. He knows you can damn well defend yourself (trust me, he probably knows best after you almost stabbed him by accident when he came home in the middle of the night with no warning)—but still, he worries.

Which is why, much to his chagrin more than your own, you kept your relationship hidden from the public.

But like I said, Izuku's love for you is a force stronger than One for All itself.

So you can imagine this 'secret relationship' thing didn't really work out..

It was after a mission, a big operation in the city - the heroes had won but barely.

You were all exhausted.

And your boyfriend Pro Hero Deku more than most.

You were talking with a reporter, trying to reassure the civilians that everything was now resolved, when Izuku stumbles over and just starts peppering your face with kisses tiredly, the battle taking so much out of him that he forgets where he is.

he just wants his baby :(

All you can really do is stand there and take it, face bright red as a stunned cameraman and civilians start snapping photos and taking videos of the affectionate pro hero.

...Good thing you can defend yourself.

A/N: Deku's not one of my favs heh but he's such a sweetheart we need more loverboys in the world 😔

(The middle pic is the body type I imagine Izuku has, but like..teen boy..yk??)

So I just was thinking about something.

We all know that Izuku eats a lot more when he starts training with All Might, right??

Well, I was trying to sleep the other night and I came up with a scenario;

(Tw; body dysmorphia, insecurity, comments abt weight.)

🌸🥀

Izuku and yourself had made quick friends after you moved schools. Entering Aldrea wasn’t the most pleasant experience, the people weren’t the nicest and the classes weren’t very..exciting. The whole building felt stale with its stagnant color scheme and taunting, long halls.

However, Izuku was a comfort of yours. He was your best friend, and the two of you lacked a lot of boundaries to begin with. So it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when the two of you ended up getting together, holding hands in the hallways and giggling like love sick children.

However, soon, Izuku started training to get into UA, and you supported him with everything, while maintaining your own physical condition and strength.

Thankfully, the two of you still definitely had time together, I mean, you were attached at the hip, how could he not squeeze time into that busy schedule of his to see his best friend and partner??

As Izuku’s workout regimens grew harder and more intense, so did his body’s need for calories and nutrients. It was natural, he was, A. A growing boy going through early stages of puberty, and B. He was busting his ass with the training the number one pro was putting his body through.

He began to eat more, thanks to his sweet mother providing him with bigger portions, and you.

You carried around snacks like protein bars, granola, trail mix and other tasty treats for your sweet and shy boyfriend.

Izuku’s thin form began to fill out, and he wasn’t as bone-y as he used to be, his hips filling out a little more, and his stomach building a little bit of pudge on the front.

His uniform was growing a bit snug against his form, wrapped around him noticeably tighter.

And how were you reacting to Izuku’s softer, yet stronger form?

God it got to you.

The way you stupidly smiled when the two of you would hang out in his room, cuddling after a long day at school, your hand gently rubbing his stomach.

Izuku had always liked your gentle touches to his stomach, the gentle kneading of his abdomen always instantly relaxing him and putting him in a trance-like state. You’d always loved his body, it was the vessel that carried the sweetest boy you’d ever met, and now he was softer, warmer and easier to cuddle.

His sides slightly pushed out more, threatening the waistband of the pants or shorts he wore. Don’t get me wrong, Izuku wasn’t fat- no no no, he was still healthy and lean, he was just a little more filled out;

His cheeks were more round and boyish, his dimples now more obvious when his sweet smile spread on his lips, his back didn’t show his spine anymore, and he had a bit of padding right under his shoulder blades, and his thighs were a little more soft and full than they had been.

While you loved the new softness and cuddliness of his body, Izuku was less than pleased.

He noticed the changes of his appearance after Bakugou had made a comment about not only becoming your boyfriend, but getting in a relationship with the fridge.

God that hurt.

From that point on, Izuku was hyper aware of how his clothes folded around his softer body, he knew he was strong and healthy, but he just didn’t like how fat he felt.

The worst part?

He was terrified about your reaction.

You hadn’t mentioned the weight gain, or even batted an eye at it, and Izuku just hoped that was because you didn’t notice.

He went out of his way to make sure you didn’t see his body. Izuku wasn’t comfortable changing in front of you anymore, he would always (reluctantly) move your hand away, preventing you from giving him the heavenly stomach rubs you loved to give him.

You didn’t really pick up on these changes, until he started wearing baggier clothes, no longer dressing in the clothes he’d worn for the entire duration of your knowing him.

You only picked up on this detail because, for his birthday, you bought him a fitted All Might tee, and he looked..nervous.

It wasn’t like Izuku thought you’d openly comment and criticize his body, but after Katsuki and the other boys at school would tease him for his sudden (subtle) increase in size, he just didn’t want to face the thought of you acknowledging something he was growing more and more insecure about.

Today, you were laying in Izuku’s bed, while he rummaged around in his room. That’s kinda how things went sometimes, Izuku would just do things and you would linger in his space, it’s how you bonded.

You looked up at him from your phone, raising a brow as you watched him look at himself in his whole body mirror that he’d recently purchased.

“Izuku, what are you doing?” You asked, angling your head to the side as you watched him prod and inspect every aspect of his form.

The tension rose in his shoulders, and Izuku felt his heart snap in his chest. Oh god. He wanted so badly to ask you, to find out what you thought- the not knowing your opinion on his insecurity was killing him.

“Uhm..I’m just..looking” he mumbled, his voice hesitant and obviously thoughtful.

You raised a brow at his words. That wasn’t very helpful with answering your question.

“Well I can see that, you dork-“

“Y/n..am I..fat?”

Oh.

Oh no.

Your eyes widened and you looked at him with surprise “Izuku- what are you saying? Of course you’re not fat” you sat up, walking over to your boyfriend and gently cupping his cheeks.

Izuku guiltily looked away, his waterline swelling with tears. He let out a shaky breath and sighed, biting his lip “I-I’m sorry- I just..Kacchan and some of the other guys at school have made comments, and I can’t help but notice how much bigger I am..I have live handles now..”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces as everything slotted into place.

His weird behavior suddenly made sense.

He was feeling insecure.

“Look- I know I’m not as popular or attractive as the other guys at school, and I’m not eve super skinny like I was..I’m just terrified of how you’ll react..” he sniffled and wiped his eye with his wrist, trying to keep himself composed “I don’t want to embarrass you because of my appearance”

Your lips pulled down into a frown and you gently caressed his round cheeks

“Izuku..you’re not disappointing me or embarrassing me or anything like that. You’re my boyfriend. I love you. You’re so damn cute no matter what size you are; thin, thick, it doesn’t matter, you’re still my Izuku and nothing will change that- certainly not the judgment from someone like Bakugou”

You smiled softly as Izuku’s swollen tears began to drip down his freckled cheeks, his bottom lip quivering “you’re..not ashamed of me?” He asked, his voice shaky and unsteady “even with..how I look? And how your friends tease you for dating me? An-“

Izuku was cut off, feeling a soft press of lips against his chapped ones.

He blushed brightly as you pulled back from him, smiling softly “look Izuku; you’re my boyfriend, my partner, my world. I love you. I could never be ashamed of you” you gently ran your thumb over his freckled skin, a gentle touch that made him blush a little harder “I love you and your body, okay? Anyone who gives you shit about it can suck my dick”

Izuku smiled softly, his eyes stinging with tears before he tightly embraced you, feeling a little lighter thanks to your assured words and firm tone. “I love you, Y/n…what did I ever do to deserve you?”

You gently pressed your face to his neck, sighing softly and smiling a little “you didn’t have to do anything. You’re amazing as is, Izuku.”

Despite the lingering uncertainty about his body, Izuku felt so warm and content, a renewed sense of safety building in his chest and making him finally feel at ease for the first time in a while.

He knew, despite everything and anything, you would be by his side. Always.

EEEK I hope you guys enjoy this. I’m such a sucker for MS!Izu. I love him sm he makes me wanna punch a wall. I love him.

now why hadn’t you noticed this before.

now why hadn’t you noticed this before.

Izuku Midoriya, class failure and nerd, was JACKED.

Maybe that would explain why he was looking more tired nowadays. Maybe that would explain why Bakugo, who looked like a stick figure, didn’t beat the shit out of him.

You could have sworn Midoriya had no muscle on him. You’ve known him since he was five for gods sake. (Well, not really known, considering you never ever had a conversation with him. you quite frankly just watched.)

He was a twig! though it was a little funny to notice that Bakugo noticed as well. And was seemingly starting to work out as well. For someone who hated his childhood friend, he sure was bad at it. well, sure he still bullied him, but spent way too much time watching him.

anyways. it got you thinking, perhaps you should start working out as well? if they were working out, shouldn’t that mean you should start as well?

You didn’t want to get left behind, of course. So you worked out, ever so slowly gaining muscle.

And you couldn’t help but hope someone else had noticed too.

just izu who knows you love his abs

The two of you are in your shared bed, you straddling his lap while he holds on tightly to your hips shoving his tongue down your throat while you grind down onto him.

Izuku hums in the kiss as he feels your fingers gently trickle down the sharp outline of his abs. You rub your hands up and down your chest feeling all up on him groaning at the touch alone, it was enough to really get you going. It was its own kind of sexy, you end up deepening the kiss and grinding down harder on him turning into more of a dry humping motion wih the repetitiveness.

You take izukus breath away, literally. With how much his heart is beginning to race with how good you're grinding into him he has to catch his breath, but it's as if you don't want to let him go. Izuku has to force you off of him, spit connecting your lips to his as you both breath heavily your hips come to a slow stop you look at him with a deep confusion and all he can offer you is a small chuckle.

“ what was...that all about, hon?”

He breathes in between his speech. You groan slightly turning your head and continuing to trace his abs. He rubs gentle circles on your hips giggling to himself.

The way he looked you deep in your eyes, his normally wide eyes rather calmed and sharp looking. There was a teasing glint in his eye as he grabbed both of your hands and had them rubbing up and down his body once more, slowly letting goru hands feel all over his chest and abs.

You bit your lip and your eyes couldn't stay in one spot flickering from his piercing gaze and his sharp abs. He just looked so damn good it was insane.

“ god, you're so sexy.”

You whine out causing him to chuckle below you, he lets go of your hands before bringing them back down to your hips, snapping the stretchy hem fabric of your panties against your skin causing you to wince and jolt up.

“ take these off f’me?”

You quickly get out of your now soaked underwear, he breathily laughs to himself at how wet you've gotten causing you to lightly slap his arm, he throws them to the side and grabs you once more by your hips and pulls you onto his abs your wet pussy pressing against his bare skin making him bite his lip and moan lowly.

Without anything needing to be said you began rocking your hips back and forth, grinding your sopping cunt down onto him, planting your hands firmly onto his shoulders and holding on izuku groans beneath you feeling your wetness and watching you get off.

Your moans start to quickly fall out as your breath quickens, your clit roughly brushing against his skin as you squeeze your eyes shut and feel his hands come to squeeze your thighs.

“, that's it baby, mmhm....so fucking needy.”

The absolute bare minimum was getting you there, you were so close as his slightly rasped voice coaxed you through your upcoming high. His hand then trail up to your clit and rubs it fastly making your head throw back and nearly fall back as well, izuku laughs at how hard you cum and coos at you telling you how good you are for him.

Small praises leaving your lovers lips as he stared at you in awe. He couldn't believe he made you cum by letting you ride his abs. That was a new one.

ft. timeskip Izuku midoriya

summary: izuku’s back muscles. that’s it.

Izuku doesn't even notice what he's doing to you.

He's standing in front of the mirror, towel slung low around his hips, green messy curls sticking up everywhere. His back is to you, broad and powerful, every muscle shifting as he moves. His shoulders are massive, leading down to thick, sculpted arms that have carried you, held you, and pinned you beneath him more times than you can count.

And God, his posture. Always straight, always steady, like he was ready to take on anything, like nothing in the world could shake him. Like he could shield you from anything with just the sheer size of him.

The thought makes you squirm, thighs pressing together as warmth spreads through you. You shouldn't be this flustered-- this is your Izuku, your sweet, adoring boyfriend--but then he lifts his arms to dry his hair, and the muscles in his back flex, and--

A small, desperate sound escapes from you before you can stop it.

Izuku freezes. Then, slowly, he turns to glance over his shoulder.

"..Are you okay?" His voice is soft, but there's something else there's something intrigued, something teasing. He lowers the towel, emerald eyes locking onto you.

You press your lips tightly together, trying to will the heat rising in your cheeks to dissipate. But no matter how hard you focus, the warmth stubbornly lingers.

"You're staring," he points out, and the way he says it—gentle, but amused makes your heart clench.

"I–" You swallow, cheeks burning. "You just..you look really good."

His face turns pink. Bright pink. It's ridiculous, how someone so strong, so massive, can still be so easily flustered. But then, his gaze darkens, just a little, his head tilting.

"Do I?" His voice dips lower, and when he turns to fully face you, stepping closer, it's like all the air leaves your lungs.

You nod, taking fistful of the sheets, feeling small under his intense stare. "You always do." You mutter shyly.

His hand comes up slowly, knuckles brushing against your heated cheek, igniting a spark that travels within your body. He's warm—always so warm.

"Then why," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, thumb dragging over your bottom lip with intentional slowness, "do you look like you're about to melt?"

The heat between you thickens, a tangible force that leaves you breathless.

Oh. He’s enjoying this.

Those intense eyes locked on yours, searching for any sign of hesitation. You can feel your heart racing, trapped between the urge to lean in closer and the instinct to pull away.

And judging by the way his arms flex when he leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips he plans to take full advantage of it.

© sakuraszn! xoxo

⋆˙⟡ Falling. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader ⟡⋆˙

⋆.˚✮Valentine’s Day story 3/14✮˚.⋆

I feel like cavetown is Izuku’s fav artist, so here you go, one of my fav songs from them.

Enjoy lovelies✧˖°.

🌸

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Izuku had no idea how he’d gotten to this point. He had no idea how he ended up here.

See, the thing was, Izuku was a fanboy at heart, and whenever he met someone with an amazing quirk or charming personality, he wanted to know more about them, and part of himself admired that person.

But this was different, and he didn’t know what it was.

He thought it was just admiring one of his friends, then he tried to blame his fanboy tendencies, but that never seemed to quell the flutter in his heart when you looked his way.

Whenever you so much as glanced at him, and gave him that toothy grin with your pearly whites, Izuku’s knees weakened and he found himself (sometimes literally) tripping over himself.

The worst part? He didn’t understand why.

Izuku was usually much better at handling his emotions or at least coming to realize his stance on things, but you flipped that on its head. It’s not like he had any problems with you! In fact, quite the opposite. He loved being around you, the casual way you two would make beaded bracelets and talk about nothing in particular made him feel at home.

The way you listened as he ranted about some video game or how you would ask him genuine questions about the hero he was talking about- he didn’t feel like a burden with you.

Izuku felt like you saw him for who he was, more than just a nerd and more than just a fanboy. He felt heard, he felt cared about.

He truly didn’t think much of the hugs, the affectionate ways you’d toy with his curls, the way you’d lean against him in the commons, or how you’d hold his hand as the two of you walked down the halls at school.

It wasn’t his fault he was so…oblivious, after all, he had no experience with girls, so he just figured this was one of the ways girls showed their value of their friends, he had seen you hug Mina, kissing each other on the cheek as you greeted each other, so maybe it was normal?

Izuku nodded to himself, it was definitely normal behavior, and it wasn’t like he was complaining, he didn’t exactly have a problem with you hugging around his middle, resting your head against him as you enjoyed the movie playing in the commons.

He lazily ran his fingers through your hair, not too focused on the movie as he thought about why his heart still sped up a bit thanks to your cuddling into his side.

Maybe he was just happy to have you around? But then why did his stomach flutter so lightly?

Izuku sighed softly and looked down at you, smiling a bit as he saw your head resting against his right peck, his arm around you and a blanket draped over your shoulders as his fingers combed through your silky locks.

He faintly felt his cheeks heat up as you closed your eyes, pressing your face to the muscle of his chest and letting out a heavy sigh, your eyes closed as you drank in his affection.

Izuku’s heart stuttered in his chest, and he felt a surge of affection wash over him. He smiled softly, feeling so incredibly lucky to have a friend like you trust him the way you did. It meant a lot to Izuku.

He was snapped out of his daze by your soft hum, and gentle voice. “Hey..Izuku?” You asked softly, your eyes half lidded and obviously tired. It made sense, the training from that day left a lot of the class worn and wary.

He felt his heart skip a beat. Your face was so cute-

What..? Cute..?

What a silly thought.

“Yeah?” He blinked away the odd thought that popped into his mind, smiling down at you warmly and trying to quell away the questionable blush on his cheeks.

You yawned and rested your head against the smooth plane of his shoulder “do you think you could walk me to my room?” You asked, your tone tired and soft.

Izuku smiled a little. In all honesty, he’d pretty much do anything you needed, and often he found himself a bit too eager to assist you. Need help carrying something? Izuku would offer. Did you need some help on the homework? Borrow Izuku’s notes. Need someone to rub your back? Izuku’s hands work the best.

He didn’t have a real reason why he loved assisting you, he didn’t feel like you were using his kindness for your personal gain, because he knew how much he meant to you (at least he thought he knew), and you knew how much you meant to him.

“Oh! Sure N/n, are you wanting to go now?” He asked, his cheeks warming slightly as you smiled up at him, the bleary look on your face rather.. no no no, not again, Izuku.

You nodded and yawned, tightening your arms around his middle “yeah..I’m getting pretty tired and am probably ready for bed..” you said quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone else who might have been watching the movie.

He felt that feeling rise in his chest once again, offering a nod to try and distract himself from the giddy feeling. “Kay, I’ll walk you. Cmon sleepyhead” he said softly, standing from the couch and gently taking your hand. Why did your touch always feel like the most pleasant electricity?

Kirishima looked up from his spot on the couch, his fingers slowly combing through Bakugou’s blonde locks. “Where are you goin’, Midoriya? You guys aren’t leaving already, are you?”

Izuku smiled and chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck as you sighed and wrapped your arms around his waist lazily.

“Oh, N/n is feeling tired, I’m gonna take her to her room and I’ll be back out when she gets laid down” he explained, gesturing to your clingy and tired form, basically asleep on your feet while holding onto him.

Kirishima nodded slowly, his mouth making a small ‘o’ shape in realization “oh, I see” he chuckled a bit and smiled up at Midoriya “okay cool, come back out whenever you’re done.”

Izuku nodded and looked down at you “cmon N/n, let’s get you laid down, sleepy head” he murmured, an affectionate smile on his face.

As the two of you walked out of the commons, Kirishima sighed and smiled “Midoriya is so manly.” He commented, glancing to where they disappeared, before looking back to the group.

Mina raised a brow “what do you mean?” She asked from her place on the other couch, Uraraka also glancing up, her attention caught by mentioning her friend.

Kirishima shrugged as he gently petted Bakugou’s blonde locks, the sleeping boy slouched against the redhead “I dunno, he just is such a good boyfriend, you know? He’s taking his girlfriend to bed, making sure she gets there without any problems. Seems like a gentleman to me.”

Mina blinked, before laughing, bringing a hand up to her mouth to stifle her laughter.

Kirishima raised a confused brow and looked to Uraraka, who was also smiling and giggling a little. “What’s so funny? I don’t get it?” He mumbled, glancing between both girls.

Mina paused her giggles long enough to get a sentence out “they’re not dating.” She managed to get out, letting out a breath as her lungs caught up from her laughter.

Kirishima blinked and gaped. Izuku and yourself weren’t dating!? How the hell was that even possible? The two of you were literally cuddling right next to him, the way he was cuddling with Bakugou. His boyfriend.

“Wait..are you being serious?” He asked, to which Mina and Uraraka nodded “yeah, Deku isn’t really good with social interactions, in a sense that he has no idea Y/n is crushing on him. He thinks it’s casual.” Uraraka explained with an exasperated sigh.

Kirishima let out a huff of laughter, then shook his head “oh great, so he has no idea that Y/n is falling for him? Lovely. Should we tell him? Or tell her to tell him?”

Mina shook her head and smiled, waving off his concern with a lazy hand “nah, don’t worry about them, I’ve got a feeling they’ll figure it out..” she glanced off to the hallway where the two of you walked off, a reassuring feeling warming her chest.

✮˚.⋆

You and Izuku slowly walked to your dorm, the walk was filled with comfortable silence and the occasional comment. Your hand was in his, and your blanket was draped over your shoulders.

You glanced at him, seeing him smiling to himself about who knows what.

A sigh left your lips, and a deadpan formed on your lips. You’d been trying to express your crush on Izuku since the sports festival, but the boy was more focused on his dreams of becoming a hero than he was on getting a girlfriend.

You smiled a little and rolled your eyes as the two of you walked side by side, hand in hand. You were sick of his ignorance, and so tonight you were determined to make it obvious to the boy that you liked him.

The two of you approached your dorm, where Izuku stopped in front of your door and turned to you, a smile on his lips “here you are, Y/n. Are you gonna get some sleep?”

You nodded and yawned, rubbing your eye with one hand, using the other to loosely wave him off “don’t worry, Zuku, I’ll get some rest.” You smiled at him sleepily and stepped forward, wrapping your arms around his middle in a warm embrace, which he happily returned.

“Good, you pushed yourself during training today, I’m very proud of you” he said softly, his hand on the small of your back and the plane between your shoulder blades.

You blushed and smiled, closing your eyes and basking in his praise “thank you Izuku…that means so much coming from you..” you murmured, your cheek resting on his shoulder.

He felt that feeling flutter in his chest again, to which he blushed a little, smiling as he spoke “please, you saying that, sounds like I’m some pro hero” he mumbled bashfully

You scoffed and clung to him a little tighter. This idiot was either down playing how strong and amazing he was, or genuinely didn’t think he was anything special. Both were not great scenarios, in your opinion.

You huffed and rolled your eyes “you’re practically as strong as one” you grumbled into his shoulder.

Izuku simply smiled, knowing how you loved to compliment and uplift his work and progress. He didn’t like to admit it, but hearing you praise him, actually made his blood rush to his face and his confidence swell.

The two of you stood like that, before Izuku reluctantly pulled away “I’m gonna go back to the commons, okay?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder “please get some rest, and if you need anything, call me.”

You paused.

You’d totally forgotten how you were going to make your crush a bit more obvious to him.

He bid you goodnight, and you dumbly replied, your brain on autopilot as you began to panic.

You were gonna miss your opportunity!

“Hey Izuku!” You called out after he made it about halfway down the hall.

He turned and raised a brow “yeah? Did you need something?” He asked, his head tilting to the side like an intrigued puppy.

You trotted up to him and grabbed his hand, standing on your tippy toes to do the first thing your brain thought of.

Your lips met with his cheek, the smooth skin feeling so perfect under your touch.

Izuku stiffened and erupted into a bright red blush.

He watched as you pulled from his cheek and smiled warmly at him. “Goodnight, Izuku..get some sleep” you spun on your heel and bolted to your dorm, quickly dashing into your room.

Izuku placed a hand on his cheek and watched with a dumbfounded expression as you ran back to your room.

He finally understood what that feeling in his chest was.

It was falling in love.

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Literally SPEED typing so I can get this out on the 3rd and not the 4th I procrastinated AAA

⋆˙⟡Laughing. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader.⟡⋆˙

⋆.˚✮Valentine’s Day story 1/14✮˚.⋆

Warnings; swearing, Izuku being clumsy, reader hopelessly pining.

Enjoy darlings .~•*

🌸

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You walked out of the dorms on the warm Tuesday morning, the sun was out, and the breeze was slowly and lazily drifting by.

The fresh air felt amazing in your lungs as you leisurely strolled to UA, the campus’s beautiful scenery taking your breath away.

A few of your classmates walked past you, greeting you with warm smiles, or sleepy expressions, to which you reciprocate the greeting with your own greeting.

You enjoy the warm morning sun on your skin, the crisp air and cool breeze, thinking of taking a nice long nap in the grass in the courtyard of the dorms.

You sighed as you made your way to the entrance of the school, kissing the beautiful April weather goodbye.

The halls a bustling with students, the signature gray top with dark green bottoms greeting your eyes in a sea of blurry colors.

Despite how tired you are, you smile.

You were incredibly lucky to be going here.

The school’s courses were incredibly well thought out, the teachers were very thorough in their teachings, and you picked up a lot of new methods for working and designing support course gear.

You mainly worked on class 1B’s things, Hatsume mainly dealt with the more troublesome 1A students, which you certainly weren’t complaining about.

As you’re deep in thought, you walk past a trio, and hear the most melodic and beautiful laufh you’ve ever heard.

Your heart floats in your chest as you hear it, and you whip your head to the side.

The trio consisted of three students, one tall boy with dark blue hair, red eyes and glasses, a girl with a brown bob and brown eyes, with pink cheeks. Then, you lay your eyes on the source of the laughter.

The third member of this trio, had wild green curls that were tousled and free, his freckled cheeks a light pink as he and the girl laughed at something, his eyes crinkling shut and his shoulders trembling as he produced the most sweet and gut wrenching sound you’ve ever heard in your 16 years of existence.

You blushed brightly, and gazed at the boy, probably looking like a creep, but what were you supposed to do? You’d just had the wind knocked out of you by the sweetest laugh, that belonged to the sweetest looking boy you’d ever laid eyes on.

He cracked one of his eyes open, his waterline red with a few little tears threatening to spill from his bright green and warm looking eyes.

God you were a mess. Your stomach aggressively fluttering and your heart pounding against your ribs. Who was this cute boy?

The bell signaling school would be starting, rang sooner than you would have liked. You frowned and sighed, watching as the boy collected himself and his trio walked down the hall, turning out of sight.

Your mind lingered on his laugh, on his sweet pink cheeks and emerald green eyes and those messy curls.

You groaned to yourself. What were you thinking? This was some random boy you saw in the halls, and you were acting all flustered over his laugh.

“Get it together, Y/n” you muttered to yourself as you walked down the hall, sighing heavily. You trudge down to your classroom, slipping in silently and sitting next to Hatsume and Ami.

Ami was the first to notice your flustered state. She smirked and turned around to face you “hey, N/n, what’s got you all red in the face this morning?” She asked.

You looked away and huffed. You didn’t honestly want to explain your little incident in the hall. “It’s nothing, it’s just me being over dramatic, that’s all” you muttered dismissively, only serving to fuel Ami’s curiosity.

Ami’s round, orange, eyes narrowed as you dismissed your pink cheeks and avoidant gaze. She glanced to Hatsume, who had a screwdriver in hand, and a glove in the other. “What do you think, Me? Does she look..i dunno…flustered?”

Hatsume only glanced up for a second, then returned her gaze down to her gadget “she looks fine to me!” She chirped, making Ami’s face drop into a deadpan “you’re an addict.” She grumbled under her breath.

You laughed a little and rolled your eyes “guys, it’s no big deal. I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” You lied, to which Ami sighed “well, if you say so, but you can tell us anything, you know that N/n?”

You smiled softly, feeling lucky to have friends who genuinely care about you. A warm feeling settled in your chest “yeah, I gotcha” you assured with a nod.

A bit later ✮˚.⋆

Finally, your favorite time of the day rolled around…lunch.

Lunch Rush’s food was amazing, and you got to chat with your friends, sometimes even showing off blueprints for the latest projects you’d been working on.

You walked out of the lunch line next to Ami, chatting lightly and chuckling a bit as she cracked a few jokes. As you walked, you heard a familiar sound, one that made you erupt in goosebumps.

You whipped your head around and saw that same boy from earlier that morning, sitting with a new face, a boy with half-and-half hair.

Your heart raced as you gazed at the boy, his laugh wasn’t even that loud, but you could hear it over everything else, the world seeming to hone in on this one freckled boy.

You were so caught up in the boy’s laughter, and in his appearance, you barely even noticed Ami trying to get your attention, until she snapped her fingers in front of your face. “Hello?? Earth to Y/n- are you with us?”

You blushed furiously and looked away, a blush rising to your ears “s-sorry, Wh-what were you saying?” You muttered, stumbling over your words a bit.

Ami huffed and held her tray with one hand, placing her other on her hip “you’re acting weird today, are you sure you’re feeling alright?” She asked with a concerned look on her face, her amber eyes searching yours for any hint of being sick or..something.

You were sick alright, quite sick in fact.

You looked away, averting your gaze from Ami’s “yeah- I’m good Ams, I just-“ you glanced back at the boy for a split second, then away again. Ami turned a second too late, not being able to follow your gaze.

She sighed and shook her head “if you say so..cmon, we need to get to the table before Hatsume blows up the whole cafeteria with her ‘babies’”

You nodded and shot a shy glance to the boy once again, your heart beating a little harder “okay..yeah let’s go”

✮˚.⋆

Apparently, Hatsume had gotten sick some point during the day, meaning that you and Ami and the rest of your class had the lab to yourselves today.

You sighed as you stared down at the helmet you were working on. You spun your wrench around in your fingers, trying to figure out how to implement a comms system without adding a bulky antenna, or making the device in an inconvenient spot.

You looked up as the door to the lab opened, and there stood a blonde haired boy, who looked rather unhappy to be there, and a red head next to him, who couldn’t look more opposite than he did.

“Hello!” The redhead greeted, flashing a sharp, toothy grin. You smiled and pulled from your desk “oh, hey guys. Can I help you two with something?”

The blonde scoffed, his shoulders slouched and his hands in his pockets “where’s the pink one?” He asked with an unimpressed look.

You blinked and chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. “Uhm..Hatsume is sick..today..but I can definitely help with whatever you’re needing”

The blonde grunted and rolled his eyes, earning a hand on his shoulder from the redhead “ah! It’s not a big deal. I just wanted some help with my costume” he held up his suitcase with his number on it, and you smiled.

“Sure, what did you need?” You asked, taking the case from him and putting it on your desk, opening it.

The redhead smiled “well, I need to make my shoulder pads more heavy, but I don’t want them to put a strain on my body where it’ll do damage or anything like that.” He explained as he pulled out two dark, rusty red, cog looking shoulder pads.

You frowned as you looked at them, taking one and turning it over in your hands. The material was light. You tapped on it with you nail and hummed a bit “well, concidering these are plastic, it’s going to be significantly harder to make these heavier. However, I can cast and remake you different ones out of metal, if you’re alright with that?”

The redhead smiled and looked down at you “oh! Yeah that sounds awesome! As long as I can increase the weight I’m okay with whatever” he nodded and placed his hands on his hips.

You smiled “perfect. Well, I’ll try to have them back to you as soon as possible. Who’s this belong to?” You asked, grabbing some label stickers and putting it on his case, grabbing a marker.

“Kirishima Ejirou” he chirped, his tone light and cheerful. The boy next to him rolled his eyes, seemingly unamused with his happy demeanor.

And just like that, a whole world was opened to you.

Kirishima turned out to be a really nice guy, a little impatient, but in an excited kid way.

He was so incredibly sweet, and you were fast friends. His warm demeanor and friendly smile were something you got used to as he visited every day to check on his shoulder pads.

Meanwhile, the boy you deemed your ‘hallway crush’, continued to be just that..a hallway crush.

His laugh, that smile, the way his cheeks dimpled when he grinned, how the freckles littered his skin, his wild curls, the way his green eyes caught the light..

About a week later, you mentioned this boy in passing, to which Kirishima brightened and smiled “oh! You mean Midoriya?”

You paused and looked over at him “Midoriya?”you repeated dumbly, to which Kirishima chuckled a bit, his hearty laugh warming your atmosphere.

“Well, you said green hair, and the only guy I know who has green hair is Midoriya. He’s kinda short with curly hair? Freckles?” Kirishima described and you felt your heard pound in your chest. You dropped the screwdriver you were holding and gaped.

“You’re classmates with my hallway crush!?” You squealed, shaking the boy by his shoulders.

Kirishima laughed and put his hands over yours “yes- yes! Apparently!” He laughed, allowing you to shake him with the shocked look on your face. “Do you want me to give you his number?”

Your face turned more red than Kiri’s hair, and you sputtered. On one hand, the idea of having his number- of getting that form of communication that you’d been dreaming about, sounded amazing. On the other hand, you were terrified.

“I-I dunno Kiri” you rubbed the back of your neck and looked down shyly “is he nice? I don’t really know him but I’ve only ever seen him smiling or flustered.”

Kirishima smiled warmly and nodded, leaning against your work bench “oh Midoriya? Yeah, the dude is a total sweetheart. He’s nerdy, nice, conciderate and super selfless. He’s also childhood friends with my boyfriend, Bakugou.”

You hummed and fiddled with your fingers “should I try and talk to him next time I see him?” You asked, the idea alone making your stomach twist with anxiety and your hands grow sweaty.

Kirishima perked up and grinned “yeah! Don’t worry, midoriya is totally shy and probably has no experience when it comes to girls, so you don’t need to worry about high standards or anything.”

His words assured you a little but you were still nervous.

Although..the thought of talking to him did make you excited.

A few days passed since that interaction with Kirishima, and you had been looking for your hallway crush. Aka Midoriya.

You walked through the halls, passing the 1A classroom a few times, and finally, you found him.

Your heart fluttered wildly and you almost stumbled over your own two feet as you saw the boy walking with his nose buried in a notebook.

You sucked in a breath, mustered all of your courage and walked up to him “h-hey..Midoriya!”

The boy pulled his face from his book and turned around. He gave a confused smile “oh! Hi, uhm..do I know you?” He asked, fiddling with some of his curls.

You almost passed away. His voice was so easy to listen to, and you could easily let him chat your ear off for hours.

“N-no, I’m actually in the support course” you said, rubbing the back of your neck with a small smile.

Midoriya perked up and smiled “oh! Support course? That’s awesome! Thank you for all the work you do for us” he said warmly, fiddling with the cover of his notebook.

You blushed brightly and fiddled with your tie “oh- I-it’s not a big deal, we just do what we can” you waved off his thanks, feeling a bit shy.

“Oh- a-anyways, I just..wanted to say that you look nice t-today” you said with a shaky smile. Your words made Izuku’s cheeks flush bright red as he suddenly began mentally running over his appearance.

“I-I look nice-? O-oh! Oh! Thank-thank you s-so much! Y-you look very pretty- I mean- beautiful! I mean uh..” Izuku fumbled over his words, suddenly feeling rather bashful and a bit shy.

You blushed and you swore this boy had just taken your heart from you right then and there. You laughed a bit and shyly fiddled with your skirt “uhm..I was wondering if I could maybe get your number?” You asked softly

Izuku’s cheeks, somehow, turned even redder. He blinked as he processed your words before he stiffened “yes!” He said a little too loudly, making you laugh a bit.

He handed you his phone with shaky hands “I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n, it’s nice to meet you, Midoriya” you said as you typed in your number and sent your phone a text from his.

“O-oh! You’re the girl Kirishima mentioned, awesome! It’s n-nice to meet you, L/n” Midoriya said as he accepted his phone back from you, his cheeks still red as he tried to maintain his composure.

You smiled and nodded “yeah, that’s me, but please, Y/n is just fine” you assured.

Izuku’s cheeks flushed bright red and he looked away with a shy grin “alright..u-uh..Y-Y/n it is then”

You two stood there awkwardly for a moment, before you spoke up “uhm..I-is it too forward to offer to walk you to your next class?” You asked, to which Izuku blinked before shaking his head quickly “n-no! That- that sounds awesome..a-actually”

You smiled and rubbed the back of your neck “a-alright, Wh-where to?” You asked, barely finding your voice, your hands fidgety and your cheeks bright red.

“I-i have hero ethics next, I-it’s this way” Izuku said as he gestured down the hall, a small smile on his lips and a pleasant blush on his freckled cheeks.

You smiled as the two of you walked together, the small talk came easy and you just knew when you heard him laughing, that you were done for.

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

Here’s the first prompt for the Valentine’s Day writing challenge! I’m pretty happy with how this came out, and if you want any characters from MHA, JJK, AOT or Demon Slayer, you can either send me an ask or comment. Have an amazing day, lovelies .•~* 💚

professor izuku thoughts...

includes   |   SUGGESTIVE content, mentions & impliance of nsfw but nothing explicit. teasing reader. somewhat subby izuku midoriya, playful dominance from reader. make out session. exhibitionism (? you nd izuku make out in his classroom). being caught? (not really, just the aftermath, but I thought I'd include it just in case). marking.

gender nd colour of reader is unspecified!! <3 not proofread!!

word count ; 1,744!

the halls of u.a were quiet for the moment, with most students either in class or out on their break before the next period began. izuku Midoriya sat behind his desk in his classroom, sorting through papers, his tie loosened around his neck from the long hours he'd been working already.

the room was filled with the usual mix of books, papers, and some stray hero gear from his students. it was a familiar scene, one izuku had grown accustomed to since he started teaching at u.a . but something was different —- someone was different.

you had sent a quick message earlier, letting him know you'd be visiting him during his break. it made him smile to himself, he was always excited to see you —- you were his lover after all, how could be not?

a few minutes later, the door creaked open, with you stepping inside and closing it quietly behind you. viridian hues lifted immediately and met with yours, that stupidly cute smile of his spreading across his lips.

“ midoriya izuku, the newest professor, ” you smiled playfully, leant against the doorframe. “ never thought I'd see the day. ”

izuku chuckled, setting the papers he was working on and the pen aside to turn his attention to you. “ there was a time where i didn't think I'd end up here either, but... it's been great. how are you, love? ”

the smile on your face soon matched his as you pushed off the door frame and stepped into the room, heading towards his teachers desk. the sight of you alone was always enough to make izuku's poor heart skip a beat.

“ couldn't be better, ” a genuine reply —- yet a teasing edge to the words as you stopped in front of him. your gaze flickered downward briefly, eyes trailing ocer his tie, his loose collar, and then back up to meet his. “ you look good in this setting, izu. ”

“ it's... still new to me.. but I'm getting used to it. you know, the students are great. ”

at his nervous smile and the nervous habit of your boyfriend pulling at his collar, your eyebrow raised, as if amused.. nd that had made him even more nervous. “ I'm sure they are, but i don't think that's the only thing keeping you busy, huh? ”

before he could respond, he felt your hand brush lightly against his arm. the touch sent a jolt going through his body, breath catching slightly. even after all your years of dating since high school —- you had that effect on him.. making him feel both lightheaded and alive.

“ what's going on, baby? ” izu managed to ask, his voice quieter now.

you didn't respond with words for a moment, instead a simple hum as you leant down to the professors seated height. “ i've missed you, izuku.. and i think it's time you remind me why i adore you so much. ”

midoriya's breath hitched at your words, his heart pounding in his chest already. yet before he could say anything, he felt your lips press against his in a slow, teasing kiss. he froze for a second, but only for a second —- instinctively, his hands moved to rest on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.

your hand slid to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his green curls, pulling him even closer. his hair was still just as rowdy as it was back in high school —- thick beneath your fingers.. and one thing he hadn't grown out of was adoring the feeling of your nails scratching against his scalp.

the kiss had quickly turned heated, messy, almost urgent. his fingers tightened around your waist, and the sound of breaths in those brief moments apart mingled in the heavy air. the way you held onto him —- as if you couldn't get close enough.. it drove him crazier than he'd ever like to admit. ( although he would if you asked or wanted him to.. he'd do anything you asked if just for a chance to see your smile.. or cry out pretty for him. )

it didn't take too much for it to grow more frantic, with you tugging him toward the desk. without thinking, izuku stood from his chair and lifted you effortlessly, placing you gently on top of his teacher's desk. midoriya had also grown a bit taller since your guys high school days —- now around five ft eight, shoulders a bit more squared, hands and arms more scarred nd rougher, voice just a tad bit deeper in those moments he let his true vocal range slip rather than the controlled one.

papers had scattered to the side as you balanced yourself, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him in closer. your lips never left his asides from those small breaths in between —- yet each kiss was more desperate than the last.

midoriya's hands roamed, one slipping to the small of your back, while the other rested gently yet possessively against the plush of your thigh. the feel of the heat of your body against his drove him wild —- and if he could've, he would've gotten down on his knees and sing your praises with his tongue right then and there.

you responded in kind, one hand traveling down to his tie, loosening it further. it was only then that the make out session was broken, instead your lips trailed down to his neck, leaving heated kisses in their wake.

his eyes snapped open again, the feeling of your lips on his skin making him gasp and his head tilt back instinctively to give you more access.

“ baby... ” it was a quiet breath, barely coherent as he suppressed a groan —- it was only when your lips found his again for a quick kiss that he was able to let it fall, with you swallowing it for him. his body always reacts to you in ways he could never expect despite understanding —- it was because you were /you/ that made him react this way.

he could feel the way you smirked against him, hands finally pulling at his white dress shirt, buttons popping open with a quickness that only made izuku's breath catch in his throat.

“ you've always been so easy to get worked up, ” you teased, lips moving down to his collarbone as you left a trail of kisses along his skin.

what made this even worse? the fact you had worn that very specific shade of lipstick that you knew he /adored/ on you.. the one that he always thought (and wanted to express) would look really good leaving marks around his d—-

(lewd) thoughts were interrupted when his body instinctively joined at the sudden feeling of a bite against his neck. immediately he fell forward with an “ oh-! ” that was perhaps a bit louder than it should have been. his hand moved to your waist and squeezed, the one that was on your thigh now against the edge of his desk as his forearm flexed.

his legs felt like jelly —- his face red and his thoughts in places that they shouldn't be in at a place like this. another groan fell through his parted lips when you bit down on his skin again with a muffled laugh. you made sure to leave a few hickeys .. leaving the the imprint of your kiss mark on them just for good measure. he always did have a thing for marking —- and when you made visible proof he was yours? /god/ —- he could melt then and there..

and as izuku was starting to lose himself , was starting to let himself get a little bit /too/ loud... the school bell rang from down the hall. interruption or not —- it was a reminder of where you both were.

you left his skin with a breathless laugh, lips still ghosting his jawline that you were nipping at, fingers gently cascading down his jaw to his slightly exposed chest, fingertips lightly ghosting over his sensitive nipples just to watch him jolt and his head tilt back in frustrated desire.

“ we should... probably... ” you started, words trailing off as you glanced at the door. his hips rut against the inside of your plush thigh, a quiet whine falling. he was panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly while he looked at you in a daze.

his lips were swollen, bruised from your kisses and coloured from your lipstick shade. he could already feel the markings you left on his neck, the beginnings of lipstick stains dark against his skin and shirt collar. his tie was hanging loose around his neck, his collar undone, his hair even messier than it had once been.

your gaze flickered back down his body, expression softening for a moment . “ i guess i've made my mark, ” you smiled, winking at him as you quickly hopped off the desk, smoothing out your clothes and straightening yourself out.

the professor wiped his mouth, trying to catch his breath, a dazed smile tugging at his lips. “ you... you really know how to.. how to get me worked up... ”

you grinned, grabbing the door handle. “ maybe if you get home early enough, we can start round two, sensei. don't keep me waiting too long , izu. ”

before he could respond, you were out the door, leaving your boyfriend standing there, his heart still racing and his freckled cheeks burning bright red.

the door opened again just moments later, and a group of students filed in, their chatter fading when they saw izuku standing behind his desk —- disheveled, panting, and clearly not quite in control of his surroundings. with such little time to get ready, his tie was still loose, shirt still unbuttoned a quarter of the way —- and the unmistakable lipstick stains dotted his neck and collar.

one of the students had given him a teasing look, eyebrow raised. “ did we interrupt something, sensei? ” he asked , a knowing grin on his face.

midoriya blinked rapidly, trying to regain his composure rather quickly. “ uh —- no! it's nothing! just — just.. let's start class! ” his words came out in a hasty jumbled ness, clearing his throat and trying to ignore the heat going down his neck and the tips of his ears now.

it was clear that no one was fooled, though. as students took their seats, some glancing at him with knowing smirks or whispering amongst themselves once he turned to face the board. izuku couldn't help but smile to himself though, the heat between you two lingering still.

maybe his break hadn't been so bad after all.

crush pt 2

Izuku x reader !

The notes kept coming.

you’re cute

you’re amazing

you’re so pretty

it was enough to make his head spin. as the year progressed, he found himself looking forward to the notes every day. Every single one made him blush.

Then they stopped. Which made sense, considering he was in high school now. He shouldn’t have been so naive. Hoping that just maybe they would have followed him into UA. He was crazy to think that, egotistical even. He had to get it into his stupid yearning head that whoever gave him the notes was just being nice.

That is, once Class 1A got back from the whole USJ incident, he got a new note. And some gummies.

Heyyy! Miss me? it was hard to find your locker this time! here are some gummies to make it up my sweet green bean! <33 Also, I suggest going to counselling! I’m sorry you had to go through that. but hey, this just proves how strong you are!

His heart stopped. The mystery person was here? At UA? That..made him flush. The only people he knew got into UA, was him, Kachan, and another person, but he didn’t even know how they looked like. The day that their principal congratulated them back in middle school, for getting into UA, they weren’t there.

And he was pretty sure Kachan would never do something so sappy, especially for him. And considering how much security was in UA, that meant they were a student. But there were so many students at UA, finding out who they were seemed impossible.

“Whatcha looking at?” Uraraka asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. He went red, shoving the note into his pocket. “N-nothing!”

She smiled, “I’m not gonna press, but judging by your face, you look happy.”

Yeah. He was happy. The notes were back. One of his most reliable parts of his day. He nodded, “yeah.”

Once she left, and making sure she was out of sight, he took it back out of his pocket, smoothing the paper out. Then double making sure no one was there, he gingerly pecked the paper, wishing that he was actually kissing whoever gave it to him. Face flushed, he took the gummies, and made his way back to class. The note was going into the box under his bed.

He was so cute. It had taken a while to find his locker, and once you’d found it, you hadn’t hesitated to start the notes back up again.

Now before anyone said that you were obsessive, that was just not true. You’d intended to go to UA, but not as a hero. A support course student. And well, if you ever did end up designing and making something for Izuku, that would be on account of begging whoever got him to switch.

so no, you weren’t obsessive. Obviously.

Late Night Talks

When the 3 am talks get a little deep

Masterlist

Izuku Midoriya x GN! Reader

CW! One comment about suicide and insecurities

Imagine lying in bed with Izuku. He’s lying on the bed properly while you’re flipped the other way, both of which are shifted enough so you can grab each other’s hands and not risk the other's foot in their face. Your fingers lightly trace the scars on his hands, bending his fingers down except for the middle and giggling as you flip him off with his own hand. You feel him shake his head against the pillow, amused by your childish actions. The two of you had been talking for what felt like 30 minutes when the conversation began to lull and your curiosity had gotten the better of you. You sat up slightly to check the time on your alarm clock. The clock read 3 am. The two of you had begun talking at 10 pm. It had definitely not been a 30-minute conversation. You turned to see that Izuku had already raised his head to look at you with a puzzled look. “It’s already 3 am,” you said, laying your head back down on the foot of your bed. “I didn’t realize that we’ve been up for so long.”

He chuckles and begins tracing shapes into the back of your hand. “Time flies when you’re having fun,” his chuckle turns into a short laugh as he hears you groan in response. “I mean it’s true; time does fly when you’re having fun.” He squeezes your hand three times before continuing the little patterns that he was drawing onto your skin.

“Mm, do you ever wonder what life would've been like if you didn’t make certain choices? Like if you did or didn’t listen to someone.” The question came to you randomly, like seeing a shooting star in the night sky. There are many stars, but for some reason this one caught your attention by falling. You hear Izuku hum in thought; his finger begins to tap against the back of your hand.

“I try not to think about it often because the choices I make could threaten the lives of others.” This answer startles you a little, but it’s not an unexpected answer; you should’ve known that he thinks about this stuff, as you know, he’s one of the country’s greatest heroes. “Sometimes, though, when I really get into my thoughts, I think about what the world might’ve been like if I had actually done what Kacchan had asked me to do in middle school.” He squeezes your hand again when he hears your sharp intake of air. “But if I did, then he and I wouldn’t have mended our relationship, I wouldn’t have met the people at UA, and I especially wouldn’t have met you.” He lifts his head to look at you and flashes you a cheesy smile; his eyes widen when he hears you sniffle.

“Oh Izuku,” You let out a whimper and sat up, moving to cuddle into his side and bury your face into the crook of his neck and shoulder. 

“Don’t worry; those thoughts come very rarely, only ever when I feel like I didn’t do my best to save anyone.” His scarred hand moves up and down your back to comfort you, which is crazy because you should be the one comforting him. Oh Izuku, always thinking of others before himself. “Let me ask the question back to you: Do you ever wonder what life would’ve been like if you didn’t make the choices you did?”

You chuckle softly and look up at him as he looks at you as best as he could without smacking you with his chin. “Mine seems so silly compared to yours now,” you laugh awkwardly. “I was going to talk about how if I went to UA instead of Shiketsu, or if I decided to listen to my parents and become a doctor instead of a hero.”

“Those aren’t silly; they’re still life-changing.” You smile softly and sit up to look at him properly, your hand pressed against his chest. He looks up at you, smiling back as he reaches up to cup the side of your face. 

“I love you, Izuku, and everything about you.” You look briefly to the side in thought. “Well, except for the scary All Might figurine that you insisted on getting and placing in a spot where it always seems like he’s watching me.” You shiver and turn your head a little more to glare at the figurine placed on a shelf in your room, his little beady eyes looking into yours.

Izuku lets out a hearty laugh and pulls you back down into his arms. “I love you too, now c’mon, let’s attempt to get some sleep.” He kisses the top of your head and pulls the blanket over the two of you. Your head resting above his heart, slowly falling asleep to the rhythmic thumping within his chest.

⊹₊⋆˚｡⋆ 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎

“when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” -harry burns, when harry met sally (1989)

⤷ teacher!izuku x pro-hero!reader

⤷ loosely based off the proposal scene in “about time” aka one of my fav romcoms ever, kind of spoilers for mha ending but not really??? no warnings just soft izuku fluff :)

normally, after a patrol runs as long and late as this one, you can’t form a single thought other than crawling into bed and sleeping for the next century. 

your tired body aches as you unlock the door, shuffling down the hall and discarding your hero costume in a trail on the floor as you go. 

you’re nearly asleep by the time you get to the bedroom, but the sight that awaits you makes your heart squeeze with joy. 

izuku is there, sprawled out on the bed like he is every night. the comforter is half-fallen off him to expose his beautiful muscular back, he’s clutching onto a pillow (your pillow actually), and his pajama pants are riding up one leg. it’s no different from any other night, but for a reason you can’t quite place you are absolutely overcome with love for him. 

“psst, izu,” you whisper through a smile, padding over to the bed. 

“izuku, wake up,” you whisper, giving him a gentle shake as you perch on the bed next to him. he’s snoring like a banshee, the sound nearly shaking the headboard. you can feel its reverb  in his entire body. he’s utterly unresponsive, the poor thing. teaching is not for the weak. 

you shake him some more, until he finally shows some sign of life. he makes a sleepy noise, eyes still shut as he reaches out for you with limp hands. 

“come to bed,” he moans, voice taking on that adorable whiny tone you love so much. 

“in a minute,” you murmur, sweeping his green bangs away from his face as his arms wind around your waist. “i gotta ask you something, ‘kay?”

“baby,” he starts, patient as a saint even when his voice is heavy with sleep. “not that i don’t love you and want to spend every second with you, but i’ve gotta be in up in, like, three hours.”

“its important,” you insist, “like, really, really important.”

“can’t it be important in the morning?”

“izuku, will you marry me?”

that wakes him right up. 

he stares up at you with those big, green eyes. “are you serious?”

“one hundred percent. i know it’s late and everything, but i was just thinking about it and of course you don’t have to answer right now but i—“

“yes.”

“izu, i—”

“yes.”

“you don’t have—”

“i want to marry you! there’s nothing i’ve ever wanted more than this, i promise.” he says it in a rush of breath, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “c’mere.”

he’s beaming as he pulls you in, strong arms wrapped tightly around you. he presses kiss after kiss to your cheeks as you laugh softly, squeezing him as tight as you can. 

“are you sure?”

“‘course i am. there’s no one else i’d rather partner with in this life.”

“just this life?” you tease, squeezing his cheeks between your palms. izuku’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles at you. 

“in every life, honey.”

vigilante izuku head canons plsss, can be nsfw or a mix of both

Nsfw warning-these are not exactly head cannons,sorry, but a small scenario I guess

He definitely didn't shower for a long period of time and you couldn't even blame him. So he smelled..bad

He'd feel guilty about it and when you two saw each other again after like 1 months of him being gone,you immediately went in for a hug

He didn't know what to do,he felt bad knowing how bad he smelled but eventually he returned the hug, placing a wet kiss on your forehead

"..I missed you"

You helped him out by running him a bath and washing his hair for him

That night he refused to let go of you, holding you tight into his arms and cuddling you the whole time

He would kiss your face and cheeks, telling you how much he missed you and your hugs

He couldn't help himself but felt a bit needy,he was away from you for so long,can you blame him?

He didn't notice it but he started humping your leg while you guys cuddled,it was honestly out of instinct! He didn't mean it!

You asked him about it and he just confessed to you how needy he was,he missed getting intimate with you

He had you sitting on his lap and gently riding him,you were doing it slow and carefully

He was never into rough sex

He would whine and whimper almost femininely, laying down onto the bed

His hand would grip either on the bedsheets under him either on your thigh

"please..you feel so good.. please don't stop"

He loves creampies,he just came so fast and so hard without any warning, moaning out loud

Poor thing,he didn't even think about the possibility of his classmates hearing him. And they definitely heard him

They questioned the both of you in the morning

Drunken confessions. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader.

Warnings; swearing, alcohol, suggestive themes

Thought of this randomly. Enjoy lovelies.~*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood off to the side in the 3A dorm commons, a cup of punch in your hand that you’ve had since the beginning of the party.

You weren’t a huge fan of parties. Not that you weren’t social- that wasn’t the problem. You’d known these people since your first year of UA, you all were tight knit.

It wasn’t the people there, it was the music, the heat- the way your head pounded thanks to the dim lighting, contrasting with the bright LED’s strewn about.

You sighed softly and rubbed your eyes, trying to ebb away the throbbing behind them, only for the loud ass music to destroy your progress.

You only glanced up at the sight of Bakugou yelling obscenities to the choice of music, his speech slurred and his party wear disheveled.

A sigh slipped your lips as you have a deadpan to the drunken blonde. It wasn’t rocket science to figure out who’d spiked the punch, hence why you cling to the one cup you’d had at the very beginning of the party.

You didn’t like to drink- you didn’t like being drunk, in your opinion, it was a not so great feeling.

Deciding you’d had enough of the constant singing and loud bass from the music, you wandered off, placing your cup on a random table.

The halls were still faintly filled with the sound of the party, as you slipped out. The air was warm and soothing against your skin. Early June was so forgiving in it weather.

You closed your eyes and sucked in a slow breath, smiling softly at the way the fresh air brought some clarity to your foggy brain.

The peace was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and closing behind you. Your nose caught the scent of alcohol, and you turned, your eyes widening when you saw who stumbled out of the door.

“Izuku?” You asked, in disbelief at his state.

His hair was messier than usual, and his cheeks were bright red. His eyes were a bit lidded and his clothes were a bit wrinkled “oh! H-hey Y-Y/n!”

He smiled and walked staggered over to the railing of the patio. He stood next to you and looked up at the sky, trying not to appear as drunk as he was “p-pretty night..hic..”

You looked over at him with concern, but pushed it away to look up “isn’t it?” You murmured.

Izuku peeled his eyes away from the sky to stare at you “yeah..very beautiful” he murmured, a goofy grin spreading on his boyish face.

You glanced over and chuckled, raising a brow “why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, placing your arms on the railing and resting your chin in your palm.

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the side, blushing brightly. He was drunk, and his tongue was more loose than usual, he felt a bit more shy, but also had a bit more confidence? Maybe it was just foolish assurance of himself.

“B-because- hic -you’re…you look..you’re very pretty..”

Your eyes widened a bit as you heard his drunken words. You looked away and bit your cheek, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk” you insisted, hoping your words were wrong.

Izuku let out a huff, smiling a bit. He looked a bit shy still as he fiddled with his shoulder length curls “am not..” he replied softly.

You looked over at him and placed a hand on your blushing cheek. “So you really think I’m beautiful?” You murmured, eyeing him from the side. Your heart gently fluttered in your chest at the timid look Izuku carried on his expression.

He continued to fiddle, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as his drunken mind tried to come up with something “y-yes..Y/n..you’re so pretty..”

You felt another wave of heat rush to your face and up to your ears. Here he was; Deku, the ridiculously strong and stupidly beautiful hero-in-training, with his shoulder length curls and freckled cheeks, his skin almost sparkling in the moonlight- and his eyes.

You looked off to the side and chuckled softly “well..you’re pretty cute yourself..” was your drink spiked? Hell you didn’t know, but you found words leaving you before you thought about them.

His eyes widened, and he looked off to the side “y-you can’t just say that..Y/n” Izuku mumbled shyly. He glanced over at you, feeling as if his body was moving on its own as he shuffled a bit closer.

You quickly looked over at him, blushing a bit more as he got closer. “Why not? It’s true..” you mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck as you turned to face him, stepping a bit closer yourself. “You’re really attractive..Izuku..”

Izuku’s cheeks, those freckled cheeks with his stupid dimples that made you swoon, reddened. He loved the way you said his name. After he’d saved your life from a villain in your second year, you two agreed to use first names, and Christ did he love it.

His stomach fluttered with butterflies as he stepped closer as well “th-thank you..you have no idea how much that means to me” he slurred out. His brain was foggy, and when he grabbed you by your hips, he barely registered it.

You gasped as he pulled you closer, sligjtly stumbling at the sudden movement. “Shit! Izu-“ you were cut off as you tripped over his foot, stumbling forward and grabbing his hip.

Your hand found the wall behind him, and his back landed with a soft thud.

Izuku looked up at you with half lidded eyes. The two of you stared at each other, before a string pulled at your chest.

You leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss, one he hastily returned, his fingers combing through your hair as soft whimpers and feminine sounds left him.

You softly groaned into the kiss, gently nipping and teasing his bottom lip. Izuku gasped and moaned softly into the kiss, gripping your shoulders.

The two of you sloppily made out, you trailing your hands over Izukus abdomen and chest, while he gripped your arms in his hands, trembling.

It was a hot minute before you pulled away, dazed and flushed. Your cheeks bright red and eyes half lidded. Izuku’s eyes fluttered open as he looked up at you.

“Izuku..” you murmured softly, your heart racing in your chest. “I like you” he mumbled “a-a lot- I’ve liked for you so long- I-“ he ran his fingers through his hair shakily as his words slurred a bit. His mind was foggy and his speech was a bit incoherent. He mumbled, looking up at you shyly.

You smiled at his drunk babbling, your heart squealing at how red he was. “Izuku, you’re alright” you gently stroked his cheek and spoke softly “I like you too”

Izuku’s eyes widened and his heart sped up “you..do..?” His tipsy brain couldn’t fully grasp the concept of you actually returning his feelings.

Tears welled up in his eyes and his bottom lip quivered “y-you like me?”

You stiffened, then smiled and gently cupped his cheeks, wiping away his tears with your thumbs “Izu, yes, I like you, okay? I’ve liked you since we were stupid first years.”

He hiccuped and hugged you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder. You let out a sigh. This bulky teen boy was clinging onto you and crying his eyes out like a baby.

God you were head over heels. His tears didn’t even bother you. You loved him for who he is, tears and all.

YIPEEE finally finished this one. Enjoy cuties 🫶🏻💚

Panic Attack. Izuku Midoriya x F!Reader

A fic with maybe a tiny bit of angst and reverse comfort.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izuku woke up with a smile. You'd invited him to go roller skating after school today! You. His crush. He sat up and stretched, his muscles a bit achy from training and working out the previous day.

A yawn left his lips as he began to think about the day. He stood from his bed and rubbed the remaining fatigue from his eyes. Izuku started to his bathroom.

Izuku's thoughts began to wander as he himself wandered to his bathroom. He smiled as he began to think of you. Your pretty hair, gentle eyes and your laugh. He really thought you were amazing.

He had such a large crush on you, after all, you were amazing! You were intelligent, strong, determined- you never gave up no matter what the world threw at you. You were so confident, and nothing like him.

Oh..

Right..

He frowned as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Izuku sighed. You were so beautiful, and he'd been getting so excited about this 1 on 1 hang out session, that he totally forgot.

You were just being friendly.

There was no way around it. He couldn't honestly believe you liked him. There was no way. You were so effortlessly cool and wicked smart with cool talents and hobbies..

..why would you bat an eye at a worthless no one like him?

Izuku felt his thoughts start to spiral, feeling his heart starting to crack in his chest. He took a deep breath and turned on the faucet in his bathroom, cupping his hands under the stream of water and splashing his face with the cool water.

However, the water couldn't pull him from the insecurity and growing doubt bubbling in him. He looked at his reflection, his hands tightly gripping the sink as he stared. Izuku had wild and messy hair, his stupid freckles he was embarrassed of, the slight dark circles under his eyes from late night studying and his whack sleep scheduel.

As he stewed on his appearance, he began to think back to his personality. He was a nerd, definitely, and had some obsessions. Surely, NO ONE would bat an eye at such a-

"Creep!"

"weirdo..."

"Deku!"

"Quirkless freak."

"Defenseless!"

"Wannabe"

Suddenly, Izuku wasn't in the bathroom of his UA dorm, he was right back in the damned middle school classroom. All alone. Just like he deserved.

Izuku's breaths picked up as he backed away from the mirror, his back hitting the wall. His eyes welled up with tears as he started to re-remember the horrible things that had been said about him/to him.

He felt himself begin to cry, but couldn't hear it. He felt dizzy, he felt sick. Izuku slowly melted to the floor, panting and beginning to sob as he grabbed at his throat, trying to breath.

Air didn't fill his lungs.

He felt so scared..

So alone..

so..hopeless..

Meanwhile .~*

You, Uraraka, and Iida, had been waiting to walk to school with Izuku like usual. You checked the time on your phone and hummed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear in thought. "Hey guys? Freckles doesn't usually take this long to get ready in the morning, does he?"

Uraraka hummed and rubbed her chin, also glancing at the time on the clock on the wall. "Yeah, you've got a point..is Deku not feeling well?"

Iida glanced at the both of you, before taking a step towards the boys' hall. "I'll go check on hi-"

Uraraka giggled and stepped in front of Iida "Hey Y/n~ you should go check on Deku!" She said with a mischievous smile, typical Uraraka.

You blushed and rubbed the back of your neck, sighing and looking away with a bashful expression "Don't say it like that, I know exactly what you're getting at- it's not like that."

The girls had noticed your not so little crush on Izuku, and pounced on you. Hagakure and Mina were the worst about the teasing, while Jiro and Yao-momo tried to encourage you to act on your feelings.

Uraraka groaned, her shoulders sagging as she dramatically expressed her dismay with your insistence on the platonic nature of your feelings for Izuku.

You stared at her before offering her a heavy sigh. "Fine, I'll go check on Midoriya, you two go on ahead today." You relented with a roll of your eyes at Uraraka's visible happiness.

After some parting words, you started your journey to the elevator, using a brisk pace to ensure you'd get to his room and to school, on time.

After a quick elevator ride, and walk to Izuku's dorm, you knocked on his door.

...

Nothing.

You sighed and smiled, figuring he'd slept in, he had been up late training.

"Hey, Freckles, you up?" You question as you knocked a little bit louder on his door. As you wait, you start to feel anxious. Izuku wasn't a terribly deep sleeper, but sometimes he could get in a pretty thick sleep.

You frowned at the nerves growing in your stomach. You sighed and knocked louder this time, wanting to make sure he was alright. "Midoriya? Are you awake?"

After hearing nothing for the third time, you grab the handle "I'm coming in." You called through the door with obvious concern in your voice.

You twisted the handle and opened the door, that's when you heard it-

-crying.

You stiffen at the sound of Izuku's sobs. Instantly you bolt inside of his dorm and dash to his bathroom.

You found him on his knees, gripping onto his chest and hyperventilating while sobbing.

"Hey! Midoriya!" You slide to your knees and gently wrapped your arms around him, pulling the distraught boy to rest his head on your chest, his tears and heavy breaths littering your senses.

Inside, you're panicking yourself. Why was he crying? What was going on? You shake off your worries and let out a shaky breath, before gingerly combing your fingers through his hair.

Izuku looked up at you with hazy eyes, his breaths shallow, quick and uneven. "Izuku, hey.." You tenderly palmed his freckled cheek, gently running your thumb over his soft skin.

"Breathe with me," You softly encouraged, tenderly speaking in a quiet and soft tone.

Izuku's breathing began to slightly slow as you gently ebbed away the panic and insecurity that had spiraled into a full blown panic attack.

It didn't take too long before your soft words and careful movements turned him into a whimpering and hiccupping mess. Izuku hated how pathetic he seemed. He hated how vulnerable he was with you. He must've looked so weak- so fragile.

You must've thought he was so annoying.

"I-I'm s-orry-" he managed to choke out, his voice small and shaky.

You looked down at him with a soft gaze. "Zuku" the nickname made his heart flutter in his chest and a small blush gently dust his cheeks. "You dont have to apologize."

Your soft words made his tears return. All of the pent up emotion and stress just- bubbled up.

he sucked in a deep breath and choked out a sob, "I-I know- i just..I-I dont wanna feel weak and I-I j-just think you're s-so amazing a-and you're so pretty a-and I d-don't know wh-why you'd want t-to h-hang out with a g-guy like me. I-I just like y-you s-so much and-"

₊˚⊹♡Chu♡⊹˚₊

Time seemed to stand still for Izuku as he felt a very soft pair of lips meet his. His eyes widened as he looked at your face.

You pulled back and smiled softly at the flabbergasted boy. His face was beet red and his mouth moved up and down, words trying to string together comprehensively.

"Y-you j-just- you- my- you k-kissed-" Izuku stuttered dumbly, his freckled face bright red and his eyes as wide as saucers.

You simply laughed and cupped his cheeks "You said you liked me, right?" you said softly, affection undeniably flooding your gaze. He could only nod as he gaped at you.

"I like you too, okay? I just thought that you'd never like someone like me." You said with a simple shrug.

Izuku dissolved into small tears again, his bottom lip wobbly "You..like me..? Wh-Why me..?"

You almost laughed out loud, but instead gave him a small, shy smile "why you? Why not you? You're cute and funny and you're so smart. You have such a pure heart and you bust your ass to get what you want. You're amazing and so sweet, not to mention you're very pretty."

Your words, so heartfelt and shy in nature, made Izuku blush, and his eyes drip with the small tears. "I-...I dont know what to say" he whimpered "Thank you" Was all Izuku could manage as he pressed his face into your chest, trembling slightly from the adrenaline of his panic attack.

"You're welcome, Izuku." You mumbled as you placed a small kiss on top of his head. He felt a weight lift off of his chest, and smiled softly, closing his eyes as he relished in your embrace, before pulling away.

"W-we have to get ready for class.." He mumbled, his eyes still a bit red from crying, and his nose a bit stuffy. You gasped and chuckled "Yeah! You're right-" You grinned down at him and cupped his cheek "I'll let you change, Iida and Ochaco already left for school, so we can walk together."

Izuku blushed as you cupped his cheek, leaning into your touch with a shy smile "Okay..then lets do that" He said with a soft tone. You nodded and leaned down, gently pressing another quick kiss to his lips, before pulling back and smiling.

He flushed bright red and watched as you stood, offering your hand. Izuku smiled a little and took it, pulling himself up with your assistance. "Get dressed, I'll be waiting for you" You said with a goofy grin.

Izuku nodded as you turned. He suddenly grabbed you, his cheeks bright red as he gently took your hand in his, making you turn. He closed his eyes tightly and leaned in, pressing a shy kiss to your cheek "I-I'll be ready soon"

Your eyes widened, and cheeks melted into a rosy red color. You nodded and put a hand on your cheek "yeah..okay.." you mumbled as you spun around, walking out of Izukus room.

You leaned against Izukus dorm door and sighed, a huge smile pulling at your lips as you touched your cheek.

Izuku covered his face with his hands and smiled into his palms, a bright blush on his cheeks.

They're both so whipped.

WHOOOOO im so tired frfr. its 11:13pm for me and ive been away from my house since 3:00pm. im gonna take a nice hot shower and go tf to sleep. if anyone has any suggestions/requests, just comment :)

Izuku holding you sweetly in his arms, kissing your face and whispering sweet things to you after he found you relapsed and self harmed..telling you you're going to be alright. His hand gently caresses your back as your face is snuggled into his chest

"you got this.. you were doing so well,and im so proud of how far you've come. You made amazing progress,you're so strong..even after you relapsed

He whispers to you in a calm and soothing tone while making sure you're comfortable in his arms,not planning on letting you go soon

"please don't try to hurt yourself ever again,I don't think I could handle more of this,I care too much about you"

He places another kiss on your forehead, pulling you in closer to him, holding you even tighter

"I love you so much..you know that right? You're so amazingly strong. You're my everything and you mean so much to me..you're so loved"

clownfish! Izuku imagine

based off of this

Izuku was a shy one, the clownfish mer always hiding in his anemone, whenever someone he didn’t know passed by.

He slowly poked his head out of it, to check if it was safe. It wasn’t. He found himself staring into the eyes of another, femme clownfish mer. He squealed, darting back inside where it was safe.

Izuku didn’t come out for a day.

The need to find food eventually pushed him to leave, as he scrounged for some algae, maybe he could even find some zooplankton? As he nosed around the reef, he saw once again, the same female he saw a day ago. He immediately booked it back into his home, the shy mer hiding there for two days this time.

Why couldn’t she leave? She was always hanging around, finding food that would have been his, and to make matters worse, appeared to live nearby. He had to find food. He was starving.

So with great effort, he clambered out of his home, on the hunt for food. He finally found some, quickly collecting it into a handmade basket.

“Hello.” A soft voice said, from behind him. Izuku yelped, dropping his basket and its contents, slowly spilling everything onto the floor. You scooped it up for him, giving it back.

“You look thin.” You murmured, slowly circling him. Were you inspecting him? Izuku swallowed nervously, staying as still as possible. He knew that clownfish femmes were much stronger, and usually bigger than mascs. And by the looks of it, you were a femme. He was screwed. You were going to take away his food, weren’t you? He was a weak mer, no use to you. Kacchan was right. He was weak.

“Have you been eating? You won’t be able to protect the young if you’re not strong.”

What? “Young? What young?”

You made a sheepish expression, “my bad. I thought since you were the only clownfish masc mer around here, you had a partner, and that they were protecting the young instead of you, given how..flimsy you look.”

He flushed, him, having a partner? The idea was flustering. “O-oh.. no, I don’t even have a partner.”

You hummed, “alright. Well. If you ever need one, you know where to find me.” You gave him a zooplankton, then left, leaving him stunned. Did you just flirt with him? You didn’t want him as your partner, did you?

He was weak. You said it yourself. You didn’t think he was adequate, right?

Seen this video of what looks like bugs Bunny n Lola bunny kissing n ugh. Izu.

human!reader basically having bunny hybrid!izu absolutely obsessed. He can't help coming to your hut in the middle of the forest giving you fruits and veggies from his garden and in return you cook for him, and on the occasion let him stay over and even cuddle him! Ugh, he just loves when you scratch him behind his ears, they occasionally flick at the touch. Soft s'mores leaving his motionless figure, he's just too adorable. He just feels so special, it's not as if you don't treat every hybrid that shows up on your doorstep with love and care as if they were normal, despite the society you live in in your eyes they are! He completely understands that you feel as if it's your job to make every one feel cared for. But he swears it's as if he's a favorite— THE favorite. Like you don't love anyone else quite like him! Sure theres katsuki, a stubborn wolf who acts as if he doesn't care about you, and as much as you visibly like him your relationship with katsuki will NEVER be as sweet and love filled as yours with izuku. He's confident in his position in your heart. He knows fully that he belongs to you, and vice versa. You're his, and when you kiss him- god does he melt.

You end up proving what he already knew right. You hold him close as you caress his freckled cheeks, wide bug eyes blinking at you whilst his nose twitched fastly. He cocks his head to the side, a blush creeping into his face as his breath hitched coming nearly to a complete stop. You sigh through your nose and lean in slowly placing the gentlest kiss to his rough lips, eyes closing while you hold the kiss momentarily thumb swiping his doughy face as you practically feel the best radiating from his face. His body was stiff and his eyes fluttered shut, just as the kiss could've become more- you hear a sudden thump. then more, and soon then it was a repeated motion, izukus body moving along with the sound causing you to break the kiss moving back to see his foot patting against your hardwood aggressively and fastly. You couldn't help but giggle at his utter cuteness. I mean look at him— face red, ears down to the side of his cheeks, wide eyes staring at you as if hes begging silently for another, he was too adorable you burst into laughter as he whines, his tail wiggling behind him as well. Goodness he was absolutely smitten, the wobbly smile that formed on his face as you held him in your hands, cooing random words at him with how adorable he was. He nearly fell over on top of you with how flustered he was. He was literally shaking in your hands. How adorable.

But anyways, bunny hybrid!izu

i'm here for the one sided BKDK angst ITS A VIDEO

practicing stuff and things and stuff to make little silly things and stuff