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#Bnha
melanthaeunomia · 1 day
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Do y’all ever reread an old unpublished fanfic you wrote and then get invested on the storyline but get sad because you never wrote the next part of it, just me?
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spinji · 2 days
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Good morning, I feel like starting shit.
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beybuniki · 2 days
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todobaku random kiss (& deku sorry he has to be there for each of bakugo's milestones it is what it is) ty for the $10!!k, dsföllm,
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beachbeibi · 3 days
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Lost & Found part 5
I always tag “Dabihawks but it’s complicated” and now complicated is here
PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR REUPLOAD WITHOUT PERMISSION, and DO NOT REUPLOAD TO YOUTUBE, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?
Part 4 l Part 3 l Part 2 l Part 1 l
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assassyart · 3 days
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*brings out hypnosis tool* Bakugou and Deku WILL catch up on the time they missed as kids. They WILL be friends again.
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bakugou-source · 19 hours
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Bakugou Katsuki ➤ Vol. 40 back cover
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peterokii · 1 day
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todofam !!
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nekoo3001 · 3 days
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Training
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gglitch1dd · 3 days
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Cheating Dilf Izuku END
Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
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Warning: Angst
[PART 3] [Cheating Dilf Izuku Masterlist]
You hated hospitals.
You sat in the waiting room, your own minor injuries attended to long ago as you sat beside Momo. Horikoshi Hero Hospital had seen enough of you and you doubted this would be the last time you saw it. You could barely keep it together as you prayed and prayed. You were shaking like a leaf in fear.
Toshinori, you and Kane had just made it out when the building collapsed. It was terrifying because you had no idea what had happened to Izuku but you had to get the kids to safety and to a healer as quickly as possible. Reinforcements and first responders arrived quickly on the scene and luckily with a healing quirk, getting Kane’s concussion healed was easy but Toshinori had to be taken to the hospital. Once you had the boys safely in the arms of paramedics, you had run back with cuts and bruises from the collapse, to where you last saw Izuku.
You couldn’t watch the TV as your legs bounced up and down. A video of you pulling at rubble trying to find your husband under it all played. With your direction, they had managed to find him alive thankfully but you were forced into an ambulance to get checked out.
With Jigsaw found and pronounced dead on the scene, your husband was claimed a hero.
However, he was fighting for his life in theatre.
Tenya sat with you, Momo and Shoto. Mina and Hanta were looking after the boys along with your mother-in-law, allowing you to wait here till your husband woke up. Toshinori was asleep in the paediatric wing, his arm being in a cast and he would be allowed to go home tomorrow.  You felt like you could barely breathe as you sat there waiting. It had been longer than ten hours and you were just hoping that maybe, maybe by some miracle, Izuku was still alive.
You hated what he did to you, you hated that he cheated and he didn’t talk to you. But you were far more afraid of losing the one man who had loved you more than himself, more than anything. You needed him a lot more than you cared to admit and the thought of losing him made you sick to your stomach.
You loved Midoriya Izuku and if he died, you were going to kill him.
“Mrs Midoriya.” At the sound of your name, you looked up as the leading surgeon of the hospital walked over to you.
You stood up from where you sat, looking to him for answers and so did your friends. You looked to him as you held your hands to your chest. “Is… Is he…” You couldn’t get it out, in fear that your hope would be false placed.
He nodded his head. “He’s alive, Mrs Midoriya.”
You let out a relieved sigh as you nearly stumbled back. Shoto and Tenya held you up right, making sure you wouldn’t fall. A tear left your eye as you nodded your head, indicating that you were fine, as you lifted up your head to look back up at the doctor. You motioned for him to continue which he did.
“Your husband’s a fight Mrs Midoriya. He was very lucky that there was little internal bleeding and most internal organs were not injured nor punctured in the collapse. However…” He hesitated as he looked to your friends.
You instantly could tell that this might be a sensitive matter so you looked to Tenya. He nodded his head as you stepped away from them to walk a bit of a distance with the doctor. “Yes?” You asked softly.
He looked at you sympathetically as he led you towards your husband’s hospital room. “When the first responders had found him in the area you had indicated, they had found that a considerate amount of rubble had fallen on his legs. We tried our best and although we managed to save them we later found out a spinal injury that, well…” He hesitated and you knew what that meant. Your face fell at the implications. “Unfortunately, Mrs Midoriya, your husband is paralysed from the waist down.”
You were speechless at what was said to you.
Paralysed? As in-
“So he’ll never…” You found this hard to say too.
The doctor nodded his head. “He won’t ever walk again.” He confirmed your suspicions, making you still. “The hero commission has offered that we do stem cell treatments to try and rectify what has happened. It would take a while but previous treatments and trials have a sixty percent success rate in succeeding and giving him a chance at walking again.” You swallowed down hard as you followed the doctor, knowing that that would be the best course of action, however you knew how much being a hero meant to Izuku. “The technology and science of it all is still new and it does not work on everyone but the hero commission has high hopes it will work for him. We just need the go ahead from you and we can start. The sooner the better.” Finally, you both stopped in front of a door. You hesitated and motioned to it. He nodded his head. “You can sit with him. The anaesthesia should be wearing off but it’s still not sure whether or whether not he would wake up.”
You nodded as you put your hand on the door handle and walked in, closing the door behind you. The room was dark despite the dim lights as you walked in. The beeping of the machines unnerved you as you walked closer towards him. You had gotten used to it and you hated that fact. It always reminded you of those moments where Izuku would have some close calls but he always tried to minimise those ever since you started your family.
You finally got to the side of his bed where he was. Izuku lay there sleeping, most cuts and bruises healed by a healing quirk and for the most part he looked fine, besides a bandaged arm, the IVs connected to him and the oxygen mask. However, as your eyes went down you had to bite back a sob. Of course, you couldn’t see the scars over the blanket but just knowing that he would most likely never move his legs again, made you have to cover your mouth.
You shakily sat down at his side, the seat beside him that was positioned just for you. You were glad that the Horikoshi Hero Hospital was the only hospital in Japan that allowed twenty-four hour visitation for family, which meant you didn’t have to leave his side.
You were scared to take his scarred hand.
He had taken this sacrifice for you. He had done this for you and your boys, so that you wouldn’t have to live in fear of Jigsaw escaping again or for another sacrifice to be made. He had basically sent himself as a martyr to die for you, when he knew you hated him for what he did. When he knew that you would barely even let him touch you in private, let alone acknowledge anything he did.
You bit back your sobs as your head fell. He was trying so hard with the boys. He tried so hard. He took time off and stayed all day with Koda and took the boys to school and picked them up. He gave you time to breathe. He would gift you flowers every day, do the laundry, take the boys out for ice-cream after school. He was trying so hard, and you shut him down at every turn.
You were just… you were so angry with him. You loved him so much but you were so disappointed and he knew that.
Yet he didn’t stop.
He respected everything you said and did. He blocked Ochaco’s number and went to a therapist every week. He slept on a futon in your bedroom instead of on the bed because you weren’t comfortable with him there. He always tried to speak to you about things that were insignificant despite you shutting down every conversation that wasn’t about the boys or the house.
He was trying.
And you hated that you loved him.
And now you hated that you hated him despite loving him all the same.
“Izuku…” You let out quietly as you kept your head down as you grasped his hand in yours. “You’re so fucking stupid.” You let out tightening your hold on him in anger. “How could you sacrifice yourself like that? And leave me all alone? I can’t-” You felt yourself choke up. “I can’t raise the boys without you. I could never do that. I’m not as strong as you think I am. Did you think I would be alright because you thought I hated you?” You asked gently.
You felt a sob vibrate out of you as you rested your head on the bed. You sniffed as you tried to pull yourself together but you couldn’t. You cried. You sobbed and you shook your head. You brought his hand to your face. He always loved to hold your face, to hold your head, to touch your neck. To feel you. You wanted Izuku to feel you. You wanted him to hold you.
You wanted your husband.
“I don’t!” You confessed. “I don’t hate you! I was so disappointed that I wasn’t enough for you! But I couldn’t bring myself to leave you. I love you. Just… just please…” You sobbed as you held onto his hand as the quiet beeping of his heart rate monitor went off in the room.
“Am I in heaven?” The voice took you by surprise as you stiffened and looked up from where you were sitting. Izuku was looking at you with a tired expression, his green eyes were gentle and soft as he looked up at you. “Or is there an angel sitting next to me?” He asked with a smile.
You paused as you took in what he had just said. You couldn’t help but laugh as you dropped your head shaking it. “That was horrible.” You laughed.
“Too much, my love?” He asked tiredly. It took him only a second before he realised. “Shit- sorry I mean-”
“No, It’s okay.” You tightened your hold on his hand as you smiled at him. “It isn’t too much.” You hesitated to ask. “Did you hear everything?”
He hesitated. He shook his head. “No, not at all.” He denied, clearly lying to you.
You closed your eyes in embarrassment. “You heard everything didn’t you?”
“Every word. To be fair, you aren’t a very quiet crier.” He confessed making you groan. He chuckled as he lay looking at you, his eyes never leaving your face. You felt him move his fingers over your knuckles. “I’m glad you’re here.” He spoke softly. “I didn’t think…” He let out a soft scoff. “Honestly, I didn’t think I’d live to see you again, nevertheless to you sitting by my side.”
You fought a smile to your face as you shrugged. You wanted to say so much to him but with him looking at you, you found it hard to do so. “We still need to go to Okinawa, remember?” You spoke softly.
You watched as his eyes widened with a light in them. A grateful and relieved smile on his face. “Really?” He asked with a whisper. “Do… do you mean it?” He asked.
You nodded with a chuckle. “Yes.”
He leaned back against his pillow closing his eyes with a smile on his handsome face. “I’m so glad.” He whispered. He lay there for a moment before turning back to you. “So hit me with it, what bones did I break this time?” He asked with a humerous smile.
You did not smile.
Instantly he noticed that you weren’t smiling. You hesitated as you looked down away from him. You weren’t sure how you were going to tell him this nor what you were going to say. You looked to him with a broken expression. You carefully stood up and adjusted his hospital bed so that it could incline so he could sit up a bit.
Izuku gave you a weird look. “Y/N, what’s this about?” He asked with a chuckle. “I’ve heard it all, okay. You don’t have to-” He stopped talking for a moment. He let out a soft scoff before looking down again. “I… Why can’t I feel my legs?” He asked as he looked to you. You didn’t say anything as you just stared at him. Izuku froze for a second before looking back down at his legs. “Y/N… Y/N I’m serious. I- I can’t-”
“You injured your spinal cord.” You whispered, finally answering him. However, that was all he needed to know the severity of his injury.  
It was deathly silent for that moment despite the sound of the machines.
Suddenly you noticed that his hand was shaking. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. His eyes wide as he looked at you but then he looked back down at his legs. Suddenly you noticed the rapid sounds of his heart rate monitor and breathing rate.
“Izuku, Izuku you have to calm down.” You told him as you held his hand tighter and moved to hug him.
However, his heartrate didn’t calm down and only started to climb.
He shook his head as tears started to fall from his eyes. He bit back cries as he held onto you with hands, gripping onto hard as he tried not to fall into shock.
“Is everything alright!?” Running in were two nurses.
“He’s awake!” You shouted at them. “Call the doctor.” Immediately one of them ran out while the other one ran off somewhere. “Izuku, breathe for me. Just breathe.” You told him as you held him, putting a hand to his face. “I’m here. I’m right here, my love. Just breathe.”
The other nurse came back and stuck a needle in a bottle he brought. He took a quick measurement before moving to your husband’s IV and sticking the needle in. “Give him a minute, he’ll calm down in a bit. It’s okay Mr Midoriya, everything is going to be fine.” The nurse said as he placed down the needle and moved to grab another blanket.
It did indeed only take a minute before you noticed his heartrate start to gradually start to subside. His grip on you eased as he lay back but you held onto him. You saw the tears that left his eyes but never heard a cry. He looked at you with a broken expression.
Your shoulders sagged. “Izuku, I’m so sorry. You won’t be able to still be a he-”
“I won’t be able to dance with you.” You looked down at him confused as to why he said that. Izuku looked at you with a sad expression. He blinked as more tears fell. “How… how can I play outside with the boys? Or train Toshinori?”
You just looked at your husband confused. Why was he thinking about you and the boys when his career that he had spent close to three decades cultivating, would be over.
“Don’t worry Mr Midoriya.” You turned around to see the doctor who had just entered your husband’s hospital room. “With enough physical therapy, you’ll be able to walk and move no problem. We just need your consent on something…”
After explaining everything that had happened, his injury in the T12 area of his spine and certain adjustments needed to his life, Izuku seemed pretty quiet but he understood and thanked the doctor for everything he had done to ensuring he lived. It was a tough first few hours. Izuku had nerve pains as well as discomfort and whenever he did manage to fall asleep he’d wake up in a panic due to not being able to feel his legs anymore.
Unfortunately, they had to give him sedatives so that he could sleep for more than a few minutes at a time. In that time you managed to go home and get a shower as well as pack some of Izuku’s comfortable clothes and items before going to see the boys, picking them up to come to the hospital. You had left them in the waiting room for a moment with Inko, making sure Izuku was alright with seeing them right now before letting them in.
“So dad will need a wheelchair? THAT’S SO COOL!” Hero let out loudly as he looked up at his father.
Asahi adjusted his glasses with a disappointed sigh. “Not really. Dad’s still normal, he just can’t use his legs right now.”
“So… he can’t climb the stairs anymore?” Hero blinked before his green eyes widened as he looked at his father excitedly. “DAD! Can we get an elevator in our house?”
Izuku leaned back with a chuckle against a pillow as he looked down at his boys that surrounded him. He was glad that the boys seemed to be taking this well, surely better than he did. “If mom says yes.” He stated optimistically.
You let out a chuckle as you shook your head. “If we did, then only dad can use it. Not you.”
“Aww. What?”
Asahi turned to his younger brother offended on his father’s behalf. “Dad’s the one who’s paralysed not you!” He reminded his younger brother.
Koda sat next to him on the bed, holding the little bunny teddy bear, staying cosied up to his dad with a frown. He looked up at him. “You okay, daddy?” He asked softly.
Izuku let out a soft laugh and ruffled his green hair. “I’m fine buddy. I’ll be alright.” You could tell that he was forcing out everything he was saying to make the kids feel better. “I just need some practice walking again and I’ll be back in shape in no time.” He gave one of his ProHero smiles that made others feel at ease.
Inko looked to her son with a sympathetic expression but nodded her head. “Alright boys, we should let your father get some rest. He needs it.”
“Aww.” Hero frowned with a pout as he was herded out the room. “But he’s spent the whole day asleep.”
“No. He was in surgery.” Asahi reminded him.
“Same thing.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. But surprising you was the door being thrown open not even a minute after they left as your eldest son, Toshinori was at the door. His good arm opened the door as he stood there in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his arm still in its cast.
His eyes were wide as they locked onto his father. “Dad…” He let out quietly. Seeing his father awake and alive had his breath choking in his throat. Before a stuttered breath came out of his throat and soft sobs as his eyes filled with fat Midoriya tears. “DAD!” Toshinori practically flew into his father’s arms as he wrapped his arm around him. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop him! I thought you were dead a-and I- I can’t be as strong and as brave as you! I thought- I thought-!” He let out half angry but half sad.
Izuku’s eyes widened in surprise, but his expression softened. He put a hand on top of Toshinori’s head of curly green hair with a chuckle. “Toshinori…” At the sound of his name, your eldest son looked up at Izuku who for the first time since getting told the news, held a genuine smile on his face. “My perfect sprout, I’m proud of you.” You watched Toshinori’s pupils shrink before expanding as he bit down on his lip trying to stop himself from crying. “You did your best and you held your own for as long as you could. You’re stronger than me, when I was your age I couldn’t even control One for All, let alone make sure I didn’t break my entire body using it. You are so much more braver and stronger than you think. I’m so proud to call you my son.”
You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Toshinori sob in his father’s arms, his arms around Izuku as he took in everything his father said. You couldn’t help but notice the tears in Izuku’s eyes at the interaction. You knew that somewhere deep inside this helped Izuku’s inner boy too.
It took a month before Izuku was released from hospital, but in that time your husband had been pretty… quiet to say the least. He barely spoke to you and according to the nurses and his new physiotherapist, he barely spoke at all to them either. But after so many tests and therapy sessions were done, the doctors finally cleared him to go home and had told you of all the physiotherapy appointments and everything that would be a new adjustment in his life.
The first thing Izuku noticed when you had wheeled him into your home was the few changes as he went by. His eyes widened at the sight of the biggest change so far. “You… got…”
“AN ELEVATOR!” Hero cheered as he motioned to the glass elevator that went up to the second floor of your home. “Mom said yes.”
Izuku turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged. “It seemed like a good choice.” You told him honestly. You turned to Toshinori and gave him a slight look.
Toshinori instantly understood the look and gave a curt nod, his arm fully healed from the healing quirks and after resting it from the surgery. “Hey guys, lets go play Just Dance!”
“OH YAH!”
“That would be fun!”
Toshinori carefully took Koda by the hand and led the four year old away from you and his father so that you could both talk. You turned forward but Izuku was already pushing himself into the elevator. You stepped inside with him, allowing the both of you inside. It was silent amongst the both of you. Neither one of you saying anything.
Finally the elevator door opened allowing Izuku to adjust himself in the wheelchair but allowed you to push him out onto the second floor. He didn’t object to where you were taking him. You took him to your bedroom, allowing him to see all the adjustments you had made. You let go of the handles of his wheel chair allowing him to venture on by himself. He pushed forward as he looked around. For one thing, he noticed that the bed was lower to the ground. He also noticed something on the wall.
He wheeled himself closer to it. His eyebrows furrowed. He motioned towards it. “What’s this?” He asked softly.
“It’s an intercom.” You stated as you walked over to it. You motioned to all the buttons. “There’s one that leads to every boys room as well as to downstairs. Just in case. It’s easier than shouting if we need them or if they need us. I’m hoping I won’t regret this decision.” You stated with a nod of your head.
Izuku let out a soft scoff but wheeled himself away from the wall and headed straight towards the bathroom. He noticed all the new additions that made your bathroom wheelchair accessible. He looked around at it all.
“What do you think?” You asked as you stood in the middle of the room.
Izuku was silent as he looked around the room before turning to look at you. He turned to face you. “Y/N…” He looked around, speechless for a moment before his eyes settled back on you. He seemed a bit uncomfortable but he forced a smile to his face. “I think this is a bit too much. You didn’t have to do this, really.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “But I did.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Izuku-”
“I appreciate this, I really do.” He told you, closing his eyes briefly. “But I don’t deserve this. Really, just… you didn’t have to change your room like this.”
“Our room.”
He shook his head with a chuckle. “No, your room.”
You let out a sigh as you closed your eyes for a moment before opening it. “Izuku, I am not going to watch you sleep in another room or on the floor.”
“Y/N you shouldn’t be doing this. This!” He motioned down to his legs with an angry expression. “This doesn’t change anything! You shouldn’t be doing this, any of this!” He motioned around the room with a wide gesture of his hands. “The last thing I want to do, is subject you to this too!”
You let out a scoff. “Subject me to what, Izuku!”
“To a life like this!”
“Like what!”
“Y/N!”
“Izuku, this is exactly what separated us last time.” You took a step closer to him, your eyebrows furrowed as you frowned down at him. “I need you to communicate with me, to talk to me! What is so bad about this!”
“Y/N, I won’t have you spend the rest of your life like this! You deserve better!” He shouted back at you, eyes torn in agony as he stared up at you. “I broke my vows.” He put his hand to his chest, his left hand gleaming with the wedding ring you had gotten him. “I broke my vow to you to respect you and stay loyal to you! I promised you, when we got married, that I would be a man worthy of your love and devotion! Of your respect and submission. I promised you that and I broke it!” You froze were you stood as you saw tears well up in his beautiful green eyes, his eyes filled with so much pain. “I promised myself that I’d spend the rest of my life trying to rectify that, just to earn a sliver of your love and trust again, but look at me!” He let out with a pathetic laugh as he motioned to himself. “I’m half a man!”
You shook your head as you took a step closer to him. “Izuku…” You let out quietly.
“Y/N, I can’t-” His voice cracked as he looked away from you, his face pink as he tried to control his emotions. “I can’t even stand by myself let alone do anything! I will not ruin your life any more than I already have. The last nine months have been an agony for me. I lost you, I lost the boys, I lost my legs, I lost my career, I lost our son…” He hung his head in front of you, his hands gripping the railing of the wheels as he looked down away from you. You could see him shiver with so much pent-up emotion within him. “I will not let you turn yourself into a caregiver and ruin the beautiful life I was supposed to give you, more than I already have.” He whispered.
You were silent as you looked down at Izuku. You couldn’t help but feel the tears burn at your eyes. You crouched down in front of Izuku, taking his hands from his side and into your own. You looked up at the beautiful man in front of you. You gave him a weak but genuine smile as you looked up at his face, fat Midoriya tears streaming out of his eyes.
You rubbed your thumbs over his scarred knuckles. “Izuku…” You started out softly. “You are the same man right now than you have ever been, if not more so.” You told him honestly. “I do not see you any less of a man just because you’re paralysed or need help. I made a vow to you on our wedding day to stand by you in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, in life and in death and I meant that. I have yet to break it and I don’t ever plan on doing so. I don’t care if I have to help you shower for the rest of our lives, Izuku.” You let out with a soft laugh and a bright smile. “I don’t care if you aren’t the Number One hero anymore. You sacrificed yourself for me and for our son. That is the strongest thing a man could ever do.”
Izuku closed his eyes, tears falling down his face as he bit down sobs, wielding himself to try and not break down in front of you. He didn’t deserve your words and yet he was getting them. He just wanted to disappear.
“Izuku, I am your wife… and you are my husband.” He opened his eyes to look at you. You reached up to cup the side of his face with a gentle smile. “You’ve gotta do a whole lot more if you want to get rid of me.” You joked. He let out a soft scoff as he put a hand to cover your own as he buried his face in your hands. His grip on you turned harsh as he cried and you reached up and hugged him. You held him as you tapped his back soothingly. “We’re going to do this together, Zuzu. Even if we got to take baby steps first. We’ll get there.”
“Announcing, his excellency, the Number One ProHero of Japan, ProHero Deku and his wife Mrs Midoriya.” 
You pushed Izuku’s wheelchair onto stage, the both of you stepping into the limelight. You were dressed in your family’s colours of white, gold and green. Izuku was dressed in a matching coloured suit as you took him to the centre of the stage. There were claps given but honestly, both of you couldn’t hear it. You were sure Izuku couldn’t.
This would be the last time he would address people as the Number One ProHero of Japan, and as an actively serving hero. You parked his wheelchair before putting a hand to his shoulder. He looked up at you, a cleanly shaven face but age still present in the grey hairs and small wrinkles. You nodded your head. He smiled as he put a hand over your own briefly before accepting the microphone as you took a step back. You always did that when he had to make an address.
It would always be the Number One hero and his wife standing at his side.
Izuku drew in a stuttered breath as he already felt tears in his eyes. “Twenty years ago, I became the Number One Hero of this country, it has been a rank that I have carried with honour and one I do not take for granted. I never thought this would be how I retired, I was hoping to have a few more years on me before I would let my eldest son take over my agency. However, life doesn’t always go as planned. So it is with a heavy heart that I officially announce my immediate retirement from on duty hero work. I would like to thank Japan for allowing me the honour of being at your service. If I could stand and bow, I would. Thank you, deeply.” He bowed his head and at the waist, far more than he should have and you did the same.
However, you saw the applause he received and knew that everything he had ever done was worth it, even now.
After that, you stirred Izuku down onto the floor where he received a lot of best wishes and gratitude. All that he was worth. You could tell by the smile he adorned on his face, he was keeping everything together until he could go home. He was still finding it rough to be in a wheelchair but he had made great progress. He was hoping to stand for his speech but that just wasn’t a reality right now. But he was getting there, deservingly so.
“You know Izuku,” Kirishima started as he stood beside his wife, her stomach still swollen with the baby girl she was carrying. He kept a hand on her hip, as he kept a hand in his pocket as he talked to your husband. “If you ever considerate, you could definitely go and teach at UA. After retiring myself, I quite enjoy it for a bit before I joined the Hero Council.” Your eyebrows raised forgetting that option. Kirishima had been one of the first of you all to retire from active duty work. Being a hero wasn’t a long job, most retiring by the age of thirty five and at most fourty-five.
You looked down at Izuku who’s eyebrows raised in surprise as well. “Well, I never thought of it.” He let out as he raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “But the commission did offer to put me on the council. It seems like a big decision to make.”
“Indeed.” You turned at the sound of a voice. Approaching the four of you was Katsuki, dressed in an all black suit with orange elements but on his arm was Ochaco. Your husband was the first to scowl but you kept your kind diplomatic smile out of duty. Katsuki smirked down at your husband. “Enjoy your retirement Deku. You deserve it after all the long years of service.” It almost sounded harmless, if you didn’t know Katsuki as well as you did.
Izuku forced a smile to his face as he leaned back with a breath. “Enjoy being Number One Kacchan, took you so long to get there.” He acknowledged, nodding his head. “Only took me injuring my back for you to surpass me.”
“Well, our prayers are answered differently.” You had to do a double take at Katsuki and what he had just said before he continued to speak. “Y/N, I have to thank you.” You finally saw something genuine on Katsuki and that was a smile. “For saving Kane’s life. It means the world to me that you saved my only child.”
You saw Eijiro stiffen at that mention, keeping his mouth shut at that. His wife kept a hand on him, trying to keep him calm. You could imagine, after the both of them had been married for over a decade and had both Kane and Satomi, it must have been hard for Eijiro to hear that. Satomi wasn’t Katsuki’s biologically but they still got their kids together.
You smiled with a nod. “It’s the least I can do. I love Kane and I would do it again.”
“I know you would. It’s what makes you the perfect mother.” He stated softly, almost with a reminiscent look.
Suddenly there was a flash of light and Katsuki had doubled over with a grunt as he cupped his groin. “Oh my goodness, Kacchan are you okay?” You heard your husband say with a surprised face as he looked up at the blond. “I am so sorry, I didn’t see your pathetic excuse of a manhood there.” You and Eijiro’s new wife looked at each other in shock as your daw dropped. Izuku looked up at Katsuki sympathetically. “I was trying to call a waiter but you were in the way.”
Katsuki let out a low growl as he glared at Izuku, trying to stand up straight. “Why you son of a-”
“Are you cussing me out because I’m disabled and I made a mistake?” Izuku asked putting a hand to his chest with a faux shocked expression. “How horrible, honestly I-”
“Izuku.” Ochaco let out sickeningly sweet as she smiled down at your husband. Izuku’s eyes flicked to her before he let out a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. She stood in a black dress but wore emerald green earings on her ears. Shameless. “That was a great speech, you gave. I know you are technically on retirement but I still need help on that case and-”
“I’m sorry, Uravity but I can’t get past your earrings.” Izuku stated as he looked up at her with a frown. “They do not suit you at all. Did I gift them?”
She looked taken a back and shocked at his words. “Uh… no, but-”
“Good. Now can you all excuse me,” Izuku made a look to you and you smiled. “I still need to do my rounds before I leave. It is a school night.” He stated as he pushed himself back. You took the handles of Izuku’s wheelchair as you stirred him away, the both of you heading away from Katsuki and Ochaco, waving to Eijiro and his wife. Izuku shook his head with a tsk. “Thank goodness I can’t stand because if I could, I would have punched him straight through a pillar.” You couldn’t help but giggle. “Hey, Y/N.”
“Yes Izu?”
He looked up at you for a moment, pupils round as he did so. “You look divine.”
You couldn’t help but soften at the compliment. You felt heat brush up your neck. “Thank you.”
Although you were both still at baby steps…
It was a start you were willing to take.
THE END
-Glitch1d
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aroi-te-roi · 2 days
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💝Go for it💝
Love is blind, in Izuku's mind~
Repost Febrary 2023 ☕Support my art by donating in ko-fi.com/aroi_te
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moodyvoid · 1 day
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HE LOVES THEM
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My heart is breaking in a million pieces because Tomura thinks he can destroy the world and go back to the League, but he doesn't know that most of them are either dead or terribly hurt.
He doesn't know Twice died because he refused to betray them. Tomura doesn't know that Mr. Compress sacrificed himself to save him, doesn't know about the way that Compress screamed he loved the League as he went down. He has no clue about what AFO did to Spinner in Tomura's name, the way Dabi explained so perfectly to Shouto the LOV and their philosophies because he always paid attention even if he said he didn't, Tomura wasn't there to witness Toga's breakdown over not being able to use the Dabi's flames or his decay even if she loved them so much.
At his absolute worst, even once the worst of his own past is over, the thought of them keeps him going.
He wants to destroy the world for them.
His League of Villains.
They love him so much. He loves them so much.
They can only imagine it, but they. don't. know.
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sprytesukii · 2 days
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you know me (better than i know myself)
bakugou katsuki x reader
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katsuki is hopelessly in love with his best friend until you waltz into his life and warp it beyond his recognition.
rating: mature, 18+, MDNI
wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)
tags : mild to heavy angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), afab!reader, unrequited love (not between reader and kats), depictions of mild depression, genderfluid!denki, queer!katsuki, reader has a quirk, oral (reader receiving), p-in-v intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it pls!), soft katsuki, and they were roommates :0, Not Beta Read, i think that’s it T^T
an: this is the first thing i’ve genuinely written in over a year and jesus it was like i was possessed writing it LMFAO incredibly self indulgent and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you guys enjoy it (pls rb n leave feedback pls pls pls)
read on ao3
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the warm light of the coffee table lamp casts a beautiful shadow across the planes of eijirou’s face — his sharp, angular nose, smooth cheekbones, plush lips that form a sheepish smile — and katsuki can’t even appreciate it, not with the absolute bullshit that pours from his best friend’s lips.
“the fuck you mean, you’re moving out?”
the words come out a lot harsher than katsuki intends, but he can’t even bring himself to feel guilty, not even when kiri’s face screws up in clear disappointment.
“well, uh, i told you, this new place is closer to my agency so it makes more sense. the commute’ll be much shorter and, uh…” he trails off then, a pretty pink blush spreading across his nose, highlighting the small spattering of freckles that katsuki is certain he’s the only one who’s ever noticed, a broiling heat setting alight in his stomach.
he feels like he might die.
“and.. kaito finally asked me to move in with him.”
there it is. fuckin’ kaito.
katsuki is far from an idiot — people call him a lot of names (brash, inconsiderate, a righteous asshole), but never dumb. they couldn’t unless they were outright lying.
part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.
of course he’s noticed eijirou’s late nights, his suspicious absences at group get togethers, the sweet smiles he makes as he taps at his phone screen, the fucking hickies.
bakugou katsuki is not stupid. he’s incredibly observant. especially when it comes to the massive crush he’s been harboring on his best friend for the last three years.
he’s not entirely sure when his reluctant tolerance of the bright redhead shifted to something more but he knows he’s been viciously, painfully pining over him day in and day out in the weeks (months, years) since.
and it’s not like kirishima hasn’t had partners before. he’s nearly impossible to resist with his intense attentiveness, his willingness to go above and beyond for those close to him, not to mention his insane physique, built from long hours out on the field and in the gym.
it’s no wonder katsuki has been in love with him for as long as he has been — eijirou is perfect.
perfectly imperfect, of course. he gets upset when katsuki sorts his clothes for him (“i’m an adult, okay? it makes me feel like you’re parenting me, man.”) or when he lectures him on his diet, or when he shuts him out after being friends for so long (when his feelings become too much to handle), but eijirou’s the only one who’s stayed.
katsuki has tried flings and a few more serious relationships but those have ended quickly because he’s just too much.
too loud. too frustrating. too closed off. too him.
but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.
that’s why when kiri mentioned he was talking to this new guy, he brushed it off. it would be like all the others who would eventually break it off because of the long hours at work or eijirou’s boundless enthusiasm and katsuki would be there to pick the sopping wet, heartbroken kiri off the ground and put him back together. they didn’t deserve him anyway.
but this kaito? apparently katsuki’s eagerness to ignore eijirou’s flings made him blind to what was happening — eiji wasn’t his anymore.
he’s moving out.
he’ll be gone forever.
subconsciously, katsuki realizes he’s been silent for far too long and that eijirou’s face has lost the hurt and is now painted with concern and confusion.
fuck, even now, he’s concerned. he cares so so much, except in the way katsuki craves.
“uh,” kirishima’s gentle voice breaks him from his thoughts, a big hand finding its way to katsuki’s knee, “are you okay dude?”
the touch sears through the expensive black joggers katsuki is wearing and he flinches so hard, he jostles the coffee table to his side. he barely sees kirishima’s brows furrow as he launches himself to standing, the telltale burn behind his eyes signaling the incoming wave of tears.
he can’t see katsuki like this, he fucking can’t.
katsuki marches to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and blankly staring into it while he tries to will the water back into his face and still the turmoil burning in his chest.
it feels like he’s aflame, like he’s suffocating, drowning.
he can hear kirishima’s steps behind him but thankfully stopping a reasonable distance away as he calls his name again, desperation coloring the word.
fuck.
with everything he has in him, katsuki grabs a random bottle from the refrigerator (a smoothie eijirou made for him with far too much kale and too little milk and a little note attached with his name and a smiley face. he’s gonna be sick.) and turns to face him, a strained, shaky grimace painting his lips.
“that’s-“ his voice cracks hard and he desperately clears his throat, blinking hard when he sees eijirou reach out for him and stop. “that’s fuckin’— that’s great. ‘m happy for you.”
the words feel like glass inching their way out of his throat and while he knows he sounds anything but, the words seem to do the trick, kirishima’s face lighting up like a fucking christmas tree.
“that means so much to me, man!” this time, he doesn’t stop himself from wrapping katsuki up in a hug, the full body contact sending a wracking shiver through his body. “and don’t worry! we’ll still hang out all the time and i’ll — yes! — finally be able to introduce you to kaito — you’re gonna love him, and-“
katsuki has to tune him out, if just to keep a hold on his sanity because otherwise, he’s gonna break.
he keeps it together through the rest of the conversation about kaito, tuning in only to give time appropriate grunts and hums while pretending like his entire world isn’t imploding in on itself.
he keeps it together, miraculously, as kirishima packs up his things, the evidence of their entwined lives for the past five years disappearing into cardboard boxes over the span of a few weeks.
he even keeps it together when he meets kaito on the move out date, even if it’s just barely. kaito is handsome — tall, taller than katsuki, with windswept brown hair, bright brown eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. if he wasn’t so fucking in love with eiji, he wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of him, but as it were, the sight of kaito makes him genuinely sick to his stomach.
it’s even worse that kaito is so nice. his quirk is even nicer — some nature type that makes it impossible for plants to die when touched by him. they turn to him like he’s the fucking sun and eiji does too.
by the time all kirishima’s stuff is packed up in the back of kaito’s truck, bile is burning at the back of katsuki’s throat as he says his final goodbye to kiri in the way of a bone crushing hug that doesn’t last as long as he wishes, as he craves.
kiri sends him a blinding smile as he climbs into the passenger seat of the truck, looking all too at home against the worn blue leather seats.
it’s now when katsuki wishes he was a little less observant because the hand kaito gently places on kirishima’s thigh and the subsequent full body blush makes him sick.
he waits on the curb the appropriate amount of time as the pair drive away before racing back into his building, up the stairs, into his unit and straight to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and heaving, chills wracking his body despite the sweat on his brow.
nothing comes out (praise whoever above because katsuki hates vomiting) and he slumps against the porcelain, resting his heated skin against the toilet seat.
he thought… fuck, katsuki has no idea what he thought, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. he feels a little like he’s dying and lot like he’ll never be okay again. that kirishima walked out with his heart and all he’ll be for the rest of his life is a walking husk of a human being.
a wave of nausea overtakes him again and he debates leaning back over the toilet, but exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep against the wall of his bathroom, sweaty, sick, and heartbroken.
(the next morning, he wakes up to a pounding headache and two texts from eijirou.
he drinks a shit ton of water first and pops an advil before opening the messages.
EIJI (18:21) : just got to kaito’s! dude it’s so nice i can’t believe ill be living here now ><
katsuki has to take a deep breath to fight against the wave of pain that hits him right in the gut, but he keeps reading, the second text simultaneously warming him and twisting the knife.
EIJI (18:25) : i’m gonna miss you so much kats T^T so weird living without you
he stares at the message until his vision swims before liking the second message and turning off his phone, tossing it onto the couch and trudging to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.)
the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.
a new case is brought to best jeanist’s desk and as the best sidekick at the agency, he’s placed in charge of heading the search and capture of an elusive invisibility quirk villain.
the days are long and exhausting, and more often than not, he doesn’t even have time to miss kirishima or notice his things missing from the apartment — he gets home, makes a barebones meal and collapses on the couch for what feels like a four hour nap until he has to turn back around and do it all over again.
it’s sustainable until it isn’t.
a few too many missed meals and restless hours of sleep has him passing out in a morning briefing, prompting best jeanist to send him home for a mandatory two week “vacation.”
it’s a prison sentence, is what it is.
at home, there’s nothing to distract him from the utter lack of kirishima, from the idea that the one person who has seen all of him and loved him anyway has left.
most days it’s too much to bear, so instead, he sleeps.
the usual tidiness of his space slowly deteriorates as he wastes away, waking only to scarf down whatever is left in his refrigerator before going right back to bed.
his friends text him often — hanta, denki, even fuckin’ hitoshi — but he ignores them all. the texts from kirishima are the hardest to delete, all concerned words and pleas for them to just talk, but he does it anyway.
it’s better this way, he tells himself. this way, no one else is dragged down by his self pity.
izuku ends up being the one to break the streak on day nine of radio silence.
a knock resounds at his door and he ignores it, pulling his blankets high above his mussed blonde hair, effectively hiding him from view as he hopes whoever is there spontaneously combusts or, better yet, just leaves.
when the knocks stop, he believes the latter has just occurred and he sighs in relief, completely missing the sound of metal creaking and his doorknob falling to the ground.
he’s debating on taking another melatonin to find the sweet release of sleep once more when his bedroom door opens up and he startles, launching up out of bed, hands and quirk at the ready to destroy the intruder, but he’s slow, too slow.
izuku is on him in a moment, pinning him to the bed and disregarding his gnashing teeth and cursing to look him over with a detached gaze.
“katsuki,” he says, voice firm in effectively shutting him up, despite the way he wriggles for freedom (so ineffectively, it’s embarrassing), “you look like dogshit.”
a harsh bark of laughter escapes katsuki’s throat and even from his angle where he’s pressed into his pillows, he sees izuku’s expression soften.
“you’ve lost your tact, deku,” he responds, his words gravelly from disuse. izuku scoffs but lets him up, taking a step over a pile of clothes on the ground to lean against the desk opposite of the bed.
with his newfound freedom, katsuki sits up, absentmindedly rubbing his now sore shoulder, the pain oddly grounding. izuku watches the motion with the intense focus he’s carried throughout his entire life, though he’s a far cry from the boy who used to break his bones and cry over injured birds.
now, he’s built like a brick house, forest green curls tapered into a flattering modern undercut, the fat from his cheeks transforming into something more chiseled and adult. his eyes aren’t as soft either — they’re tired and, as he looks at katsuki’s form, tinged with worry.
“where have you been? no one has heard from you in a week.”
katsuki rolls his eyes, looking away from the gaze that pins him, the gaze he tried so hard to get to look at him without fear. there isn’t a hint of fear in them now, but katsuki is afraid there’ll be disappointment and that’s almost worse.
“none of your fuckin’ business,” he grunts out and he immediately knows it was the wrong response. besides eijirou, izuku knows him the best and after all they’ve been through, he doesn’t deserve this.
he never deserved any of it.
with that thought spinning around in his head, katsuki rubs a hand over his face with a quiet curse, leaning back against the headboard.
“fuck, i’m sorry,” it comes out as a mutter, but its effect on izuku is instantaneous. the previous hardness of his expression melts and he moves closer, his bushy brows furrowing together. katsuki can barely look at him but he does anyway, he makes himself. izuku deserves that much (he deserves so much more but one day at a time).
“we’re just worried about you,” izuku says quietly but without pity. never pity. “what’s going on?”
maybe it’s the way izuku’s freckled face reminds him far too much of eijirou’s own spattering of constellations or maybe it’s the fact katsuki hasn’t eaten in over fifteen hours, but he shatters in that moment, crystal tears filling up carmine eyes.
if izuku is startled at katsuki’s sudden change of emotions, he doesn’t show it, instead moving to envelop katsuki in his arms, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of his shoulder and let go.
katsuki tells him everything and by the end of it, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his eyes are puffy and red, but he feels better than he did all week.
izuku just looks thoughtful from his place sitting near the end of katsuki’s bed, the pair parting somewhere in between katsuki’s admission of throwing up when seeing kaito and kirishima together and his accidental confession of stealing one of eijirou’s hoodies from one of the boxes (it sits right under his pillow, but izuku doesn’t need to know that).
“i’m really sorry, katsuki. that fucking sucks,” izuku ends up saying and katsuki’s initial reaction is anger. he spills his heart and guts out to izuku and all he gets is that sucks? but when he opens his mouth to give deku a piece of his mind, he realizes that it does suck. it sucks royal ass and there’s nothing he or izuku can do to fix it - at least not yet - but the acknowledgment, without any attempt to give advice or make everything better, does wonders for katsuki.
he pushes out a watery laugh, his lip ticking up into a smile - for the first time in weeks - and izuku lights up a little. “yeah. it really fuckin’ does.”
the smile izuku sends back is blinding and for the one thousandth time, katsuki is reminded why the symbol of peace is just that.
they talk for a little while longer before izuku forces katsuki into the shower. he takes a long time, letting the scalding hot water turn cold before he emerges to find that his childhood best friend has started cleaning up the mess that has become of his apartment.
katsuki watches on for a moment until izuku raises an eyebrow at him and offers him a trash bag which he takes wordlessly, a wave of affection crashing over him so quickly tears come to his eyes. he blinks them away but he doesn’t miss the knowing smile izuku sends his way.
the pair work together in relative silence until the apartment is spotless and katsuki’s stomach is grumbling something fierce. izuku makes his way to the fridge but is met with nothing but a half carton of eggs and a rotting smoothie in the far corner, a sticky note attached to the lid. he fixes katsuki with a small, sad smile before digging through his drawers for a takeout menu.
when the food arrives, katsuki finishes it in record time and he can’t tell if it’s the fact they remembered to make it extra spicy or if it’s because he literally can’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, but it’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.
after they finish, izuku turns on the television and they both spend the evening shit talking a d-list hero film until they fall asleep on the couch, bodies slumped against one another, holding each other up.
that night seems to have knocked something loose in katsuki because the next morning, he wakes with his first alarm and heads to the gym for the first time since his mandatory vacation. by the end of it, his arms are burning from quirk overuse and he’s completely wiped, but he feels more like himself than he has in ages.
he finally texts his friends back (barring one) and they greet him back with high levels of enthusiasm and concern. it feels good to be received back into the fold with the love he’d thought he’d lost, his cheeks hurting with how much he’s smiling as the messages roll in.
katsuki finishes out his sentence and goes back to work on the fourteenth day with an earnest apology to best jeanist and a new lead on the villain after pouring over the case files in between hyperintensive workouts at the gym. best jeanist is quietly impressed, but the squeeze to the shoulder he gives katsuki tells him he was more worried about him than he let on.
the next few weeks pass in a blur, but this time it’s more pleasant. he watches shitty movies with izuku, deletes instagram when he sees a photo of kaito and kirishima on holiday in america, starts attending a pottery class on the weekends he has off with mina and denki, continues to ignore the texts from eijirou that are becoming more and more infrequent as time goes on, smokes with hanta and shinsou one evening and laughs harder than he ever has, and life feels like it’s slowly gaining its footing once again.
he realizes three months after kirishima had moved out that he should probably start looking for a new roommate or downgrade to something more reasonable. he seriously considers the latter, but when he looks at the space he cultivated right after he graduated from ua, he realizes he can’t quite give the place up.
he posts an ad on craigslist that night.
the next time the group goes drinking (kirishima is suspiciously absent, despite his reentry into the country a few days prior — mina mentioned it), katsuki brings up his roommate problem and denki latches on, his cheeks pleasantly flushed from the wine he’s been sipping on.
“oh, oh! i know - i know the perrrrfeeccttt roommate for you,” he slurs, toying with the earring dangling from his ear and fixing his excited gaze on katsuki’s face. “they’re like.. the besttt, dude, you’d - you’d love them.”
the words are vague, but when katsuki opens up his mouth to ask for more details, denki’s eyes widen and he rushes off to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth, nearly tripping over the his platform shoes and maxi skirt.
the topic of the roommate is quickly forgotten then, but it resurfaces a few days later at pottery class.
katsuki is glaring holes into the side of his slightly lopsided vase on the pottery wheel, internally going through the steps to see where he went wrong. denki to the left of him laughs and chatters as he makes his, frankly, hideous ceramic, the clay warped beyond recognition.
something in his one-sided conversation brings his attention to katsuki who’s startled at the sound of his name coming from denki’s mouth.
“yo, you still looking for a roommate?” he asks, tilting his head as a strand of hair falls from the lengthening ponytail at the back of his head. without alcohol in his system, denki looks a little more hesitant to be approaching this topic, but does so when he isn’t met with a howitzer to the face.
the group doesn’t know much of anything, just that kirishima and katsuki aren’t talking, so they tend to tread lightly around the subject. katsuki appreciates it, genuinely, but he’s not going to shatter at the sound of eijirou’s name - not anymore. it hurts still, of course, but the pain has dulled to a steady hum that he can ignore if he tries hard enough.
“yeah,” he grunts, turning his eyes back at his vase. “why? you got someone in mind?”
denki grins, showing off the lightning tooth gems on his canine. “hell yeah! i’ll give you their number — they teach the watercolor class here on tuesdays and they’re so cool.”
he speaks about you with obvious adoration and katsuki belatedly wonders if the two of you are dating, but doesn’t voice this curiousity, instead wordlessly handing denki his phone to put in your contact as “ROOMIE” with what feels like a hundred paint emojis after it. katsuki smiles at his friend’s antics and can’t quite bring himself to change it.
the colorful contact remains untouched for about another week until he gets a rent notice and remembers the little paint palettes in his phone.
in the middle of his morning workout, he taps out a quick text to you, before tossing his phone to the side and promptly forgetting about it.
katsuki [09:27] : Hey. I’m Bakugou. Denki gave me your number. I’m looking for a roommate. You interested?
ROOMIE [10:16] : oh hey yeah i’m interested
ROOMIE [10:17] : do you want 2 meet td
ROOMIE [10:17] : i’m at the cafe on 5th n cherry
ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back
ROOMIE [10:19] : i’ll b here 4 a while
ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever
katsuki only sees the message at the end of his workout a half hour later. the number of messages in a row and less than ideal grammar makes him turn up his nose but he quickly taps out an affirmative, before dapping izuku up and heading to the showers.
he makes it to the cafe twenty minutes later, scanning the place to see what he assumes is you tucked away in the back corner, your table full with books, papers, paints, your laptop and at least four empty cups of coffee.
katsuki raises an eyebrow at the sight but walks over anyway, telling himself he’s doing denki a favor by meeting someone he thinks so highly of so he won’t feel too bad when he tells him it’s not going to work out.
you don’t look up when he stops at your table, too occupied with the piece of art in front of you, your face twisted up in intense concentration.
you’re quite pretty, he notes subconsciously, the hard set of your eyes and one track focus reminding him an awful lot of himself when he’s swept into a difficult case. your complete unawareness gives him more time to take you in, though, so he can’t even bring himself to be too annoyed.
you’re wearing a bright yellow chargebolt hoodie that clashes terribly with your garishly pink acid queen baggy sweatpants. a pair of cellophane socks cover your feet where they’re stretched out in the seat across from you and your shoes (made to look like the red ones from deku’s costume, jesus christ) sit haphazardly beneath the table, empty.
it’s such a bizarre sight, katsuki almost laughs — almost — but he doesn’t, instead opting to knock your feet off the chair opposite you so he can sit down.
“a big fan of heroes, huh?” he asks, the action coupled with his words startling you so bad, your knees hit the underside of the table, threatening to upend all the precariously balanced objects decorating the surface.
you look angry at first before you realize who it is and once you do, you just look relieved. it’s an unusual reaction, one katsuki rarely gets from anyone who isn’t actively in danger, especially strangers.
“you scared the absolute shit out of me,” you say tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face and sighing. katsuki watches you recognize your own impoliteness in real time, a sheepish smile spreading across your lips.
pretty.
“fuck, sorry,” you extend a paint splotched hand to him and he takes it, shaking it firmly before it falls back to his side, fingers tingling. “i get super into shit and completely forget where i am. kami gets onto me about it all the time. says i’m prime villain bait or some shit. i think he’s saying it most of the time to freak me out, but he might actually be right. don’t ever tell him i said that though.”
katsuki can’t help but stare at you as you ramble at him with the familiarity of someone who’s known him for months, not just a few minutes. it’s uncomfortable in a strangely nice way and he can feel his muscles loosen as the nerves melt away.
“aw fuck, i’m sorry again. i didn’t introduce myself.”
you give him your name, offering your hand out for him to shake once more which he does with an amused look painting his expression. you don’t seem to notice, your attention being grabbed by the piece in front of you again.
“i’m bakugou,” he offers after a moment of silence. you don’t even look up when you respond.
“i know. you sent me that text, remember? also you’re like, super fucking famous, dynamight,” you look up at him through your lashes, teasing, and heat unexpectedly blooms on the back of his neck.
what the fuck?
in a bid to gain back control of the conversation (and himself) katsuki asks, “what’re you workin’ on? dunceface said you’re a painter or some shit.”
your nose crinkles at the moniker, but you don’t say anything about it, instead turning the sketchbook around for katsuki to look at it.
the piece is stunning, but it’s visceral and he can’t help but lean back a little when looking at it, stomach dropping.
a deer lays on the ground, gutted, blood, guts and viscera pouring out of its abdomen as a figure just out of frame reaches inside and pulls out its heart.
katsuki is disgusted but intrigued and that feeling only amplifies when you press a finger to the painting and activate your quirk.
suddenly, the hand in the painting moves so realistically he flinches — he can hear the deer’s heart beat, can hear the way the blood trickles through the blades of grass, can smell the coppery tang and can feel the rush of spring wind blowing past his face.
it’s like he’s there, in the piece, and he feels both a little sick and also so alive.
“holy fuck,” he whispers, shivering, and you laugh, deactivating your quirk, bringing him back to the real world. the sounds of the cafe flood in, replacing the smell of blood and spring fields with coffee and loose tea leaves. he shakes his head, eyes a little blown when they look at you.
your expression is playfully amused as you bring your sketchbook closer to your person, resting your head on the palm of your hand.
“sorry,” you offer, but you don’t sound very sorry at all, “should’ve asked before i used my quirk on you. not everyone likes that shit.”
the words are so nonchalant but you look like you’re poised to watch him get up and leave, never looking back. katsuki doesn’t think he could leave if he tried.
“nah,” his voice feels raw so he tries to clear it but the feeling doesn’t go away. “you’re good. just surprised me, ‘s all.”
your mouth parts in muted surprise and you tilt your head, appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time. katsuki feels surprisingly bare as you study him, but he doesn’t drop his eye contact, despite the heavy pounding of his heart from your intensity.
the pair of you sit in silence like that for a moment or two longer before you break it, asking him if he wants something to drink. before he can tell you he doesn’t drink coffee though, you flag down the waiter, ask for a hot cup of tea (“darjeeling or oolong,” you ask the waiter, not even sparing katsuki another glance, “he doesn’t look like he fucks with green tea.” it’s true. he doesn’t. his heart does a stutter step in his chest.) and when it arrives to the table, katsuki asks you to move in with him.
you agree.
the move in process is so quick and easy that when it’s done, it feels like you’ve been living there for years.
your belongings integrate seamlessly into his own. your books about art history and watercolor technique find their way onto his bookshelves filled with classic japanese literature and hero history.
(he comes home one day to see you propped up on the couch with a thick book on the origin of quirks and heroism in japan that you stole borrowed from his collection. he just cocks his head at you when you meet his gaze and you shrug.
“i’m not japanese, i don’t know any of this shit,” you say in way of an explanation. “besides, this is important to you. i wanna learn.”
you turn back to your book like you didn’t just completely shake the foundation of katsuki’s world for a moment and he stumbles off to the kitchen, heat burning at the tips of his ears.)
your plants find their way on every windowsill and while, once upon a time, it would’ve made him think of kaito and that sick, curling jealousy would wrap around his chest and squeeze, now? it just makes him think of you.
(it helps you can’t really keep them alive so nearly every other week the two of you are replanting something new in the pots and vases katsuki makes in pottery class.)
your favorite foods join his in the refrigerator and the two of you take your meals together more often than not. katsuki cooks and you clean, either eating on the couch while watching a documentary or at the dining room table as you talk and talk and talk.
(the first time katsuki misses dinner, you wait up for him, even forgoing your own meal to eat with him when he returns at 2 in the morning.
“don’t do that shit again,” he grumbles when he finds out what you’ve done, his scarlet eyes piercing your own. you shrug, unafraid, tired eyes trailing lazily over his tank top clad form.
“don’t tell me what to do,” you retort after a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “i like eating with you.”
your honesty, unabashed and loud, always bowls him over and he has to take a sip of his ice water to feel steady again.)
the relationship between the two of you is easy, for once, and katsuki finds himself looking forward to coming home, to you and your witty comments, sharp intelligence, and your uncanny ability to see right through him.
he swears it must be a hidden quirk, the way you seem to just know — know what he wants and needs without even asking and your accuracy rate is pretty much unbeatable.
after a particularly bad mission where the property damage is unusually high and the civilian casualties match, the leading hero news journalist puts out a scathing piece about him, sending him into an emotional spiral.
you find him that afternoon, curled up in bed, staring at the window blankly. you crawl up in bed beside him and you don’t speak, don’t offer him coddling words of “everything’s gonna be okay,” or “you did the best you could,” because if that was katuski’s best, he doesn’t fucking deserve to be a hero. not at all.
but no, you don’t offer him empty words of placation. instead, you brush a lock of his hair off of his forehead and look at him with that all-seeing gaze, your expression neither soft nor hard, but understanding.
“you’re not gonna let that shit happen again, right?” you ask, tilting your head. katsuki shakes his head vehemently, the mere notion of the same amount of dead bodies on his watch sending a fire through his chest as he sits up.
“fuck no.”
“good. now come here, i painted something new and i need to see if i get ‘good job’ or ‘holy fuck that’s shitty’ eyebrows from you.”
and that’s that.
you’ve even given him a nickname and it inexplicably makes his skin feel tight, like he needs to tear it off and show you, like it’s a display of how you make him feel.
it’s a lazy sunday afternoon, one he’s required to take off by best jeanist, and he’s spent it next to you on the couch, listening to a few of your records while you paint a forest scene, a skittish doe front and center with rivulets of water streaming from beneath it.
occasionally, you’ll activate your quirk and katsuki can suddenly hear birds chirping and the creak of the wood before he’s back in your cramped flat, the sounds of city sounding below.
it’s jarring and yet, comforting, both your presence and the quirk, in a way that still doesn’t make sense to him yet.
“bambi, are you even listening to me?” the term of what he assumes is endearment startles him out of his thoughts and he eyes dart to yours, an amused expression on your your brow.
“who the fuck are you callin’ bambi?” in his shock, he can hardly conjure up the ability to sound pissed, confusion instead hijacking his words, making them come out soft and gruff.
“you, idiot,” you reply, like it makes all the sense in the world. “you’re like a deer to me. something in you is skittish, afraid and yet, you’re still so beautiful.”
what the fuck.
katsuki’s breath completely evaporates from his lungs and he feels like he’s going to pass out at your frank words. it doesn’t help that you don’t break eye contact or look embarrassed to have said something so, so… intimate.
he can’t even begin to parse through how to respond to something like that, but you know that too, flicking a little bit of paint water at him with the tip of your brush. he sees the olive branch for what it is and he grabs it with both hands, the annoyed sound rising from his throat on autopilot as you laugh, but your eyes are still so knowing.
he thinks about that day everyday after with sickening butterflies flapping around in his stomach and those only magnify when you choose to call him the new nickname every single chance you get.
katsuki would not dream of stopping you.
it’s about two months into you moving in with him and he’s going out drinking with the squad. he’s invited you about thirty times but every time you decline, citing that you’re behind on grading art projects and that show you were looking forward to is airing tonight.
(you’re a substitute art teacher at the local elementary school, a fact that genuinely shocked katsuki when he found out.
you’d laughed, wide and unapologetic at his reaction.
“i know i’ve got quite the potty mouth but i clean it up for the kids,” you say, eyes twinkling. “they kinda love me, i think, but it might just be the bob ross videos i put on for them every friday.”)
katsuki chooses not to push but he knows that he’ll end up cutting the night short, just so he can sprawl next to you on the couch and watch you paint.
you seem to know it too (how?? secret quirk, it must be) if the knowing look you give him isn’t enough as he goes to change.
when he returns to the living room, he’s clad in a nice black button down that’s unbuttoned enough to show off the strong planes of his chest and his thin gold chain, and a pair of black jeans that fit him and his tiny waist incredibly well.
katsuki knows he looks good in this outfit, but he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he stands in front of you, your eyes dragging down his body as slow as molasses, igniting the skin as though it was a physical touch.
your eyes meet his once again, molten and hot, and katsuki’s knees nearly buckle at the sight. he’s never seen you look like that - not at him, not at anyone, and he finds that he quite likes to be the center of your attention in this way.
“you clean up nicely, bambi,” you murmur, your voice a lower timber in comparison to your normal speech.
the blush spreads immediately to all visible parts of his body and he can fucking see you holding back a grin. “fuck off,” is all he can say before he spins on his heel, grabs his keys, and marches out the door.
it takes everything in him to continue walking, out and up to the train station and then to the bar, because all he wants to do is turn right back around, back to your home and back to that lava-like gaze you pinned him with earlier.
it’s you that’s racing around in his mind when he pushes the door open to the bar, but all thoughts come to a complete, grinding halt when he sees kirishima at their usual table, surrounded by all their friends and grinning like he’d never left.
he looks different - after all, it’s been about a year since katsuki had seen him last. his hair is longer and his roots are grown out, his skin has taken on such a warm glow and it, impossibly, seems like he’s gotten even bigger somehow.
it’s also impossible to miss the black band on his ring finger signaling a new engagement ring which he figures is what they’re meant to be celebrating tonight, eyes belatedly catching on the comically tiny “i’m engaged!” sash hanging around his chest.
the sight of kirishima sends the most heinous bolt of anxiety through katsuki and now he really just wants to call you to come get him and take him home, to make him forget all about his unrequited love. he moves backwards to do just that, but he’s already been spotted by kirishima himself.
fuck.
katsuki is frozen as kirishima’s happy expression falters when he meets his eyes, cycling through shock, disbelief, stark hurt and then utter relief.
he can see the way kiri’s mouth forms “katsuki” from a distance as he puts down his drink and moves towards him, his feet completely frozen until they’re standing face to face (face to chest, really) for the first time in months.
“hey,” kirishima says, hesitantly, breathlessly, as his hands flutter uselessly at his sides, like he wants to just pick katsuki up but is stopping himself. “can we, uh, can we go outside and talk?”
katsuki just nods because what else is supposed to do? and as they move out, he catches the worried gazes of their friends watching the pair of them from the table. denki and izuku, the latter of whom knows the most (everything) and the former who managed to figure most of it out on his own.
(“takes one to know one,” he’d said, bitterly when he’d confronted katsuki a few weeks ago about his unexplained mandatory leave all those months ago. katsuki was confused until kaminari flipped around his phone to reveal a photo of him and hanta pressed tightly together in an embrace that was strictly platonic and yet, horribly intimate.
katsuki’s lips drew together into a tight line as he settled against the brick wall kami was leaning against, trying to light the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.
“you’re too good for plain face,” he says after a moment, attempting to channel his inner you, blunt and honest. “you’re gonna find someone better.” and just like all his thoughts as of recently, they’d flitted right back to you.
denki had watched his face carefully, cigarette unlit, a thoughtful look crossing his own expression.
“yeah,” he concedes, “i will, won’t i?”)
katsuki gives the pair of them a nod, holding up a hand to izuku who looks like he wants to follow them out of the bar, despite the pounding in his chest and the way he suddenly feels unsteady on his feet as they leave the building to step right back out into the cool, fall air.
kirishima’s stance is awkward and since neither of them smoke, they both just stand there, barely looking at each other and waiting for the other person to speak up first.
“fuckin’ hell- what’d you wanna talk about kirishima?” katsuki grits out, tired of the waiting game and suddenly, immediately, so exhausted. all he wants to do is be curled up beside you, with your all seeing eyes and gentle utterances of “bambi” in his ear.
the tact he’d lost in his haste to get this over with stings kirishima whose brows furrow in annoyance. “what do i want to talk about? i haven’t seen you in a year, bakugou, not since i moved out and you completely cut me off with no explanation whatsoever. i want to know why. what - what did i do wrong?”
his voice breaks on the last word and it sounds so sad, so uncharacteristically eijirou, that katsuki flinches, finally looking over at kirishima to see a broken, pleading man who lost his best friend for nothing more than silly, stupid feelings.
at once, katsuki feels all the fucking idiot asshole he is and it’s staggering how much that thought makes him feel like shit. he could’ve reached out, he could’ve, but he was so worried that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together, spending time with kiri, and as time passed, the issue became that so much time had passed and he had no idea how to navigate this all over again.
he runs a hand over his face, leaning against the brick facade of the bar. “fuck,” he whispers, gravel crunching underfoot as kiri steps closer.
“i - i miss you, kats,” kiri’s voice comes out quiet and thick, “i got engaged and all i wanted to do was call you, but you weren’t there, you weren’t speaking to me and i-“ he takes a shuddering breath and katsuki’s eyes fill with tears.
“i was in love with you.”
the sounds of the street fade out as katsuki finally turns to look at kirishima, the tears falling down his cheeks.
“wha- bakugou, what?”
“i was in love with you and i couldn’t fuckin’ - i couldn’t do it. not to myself, not to you.”
kirishima face is drawn, pale and mouth gaping. his mouth closes, then opens again, then snaps shut, his head shaking in disbelief.
“why didn’t you - fuck - why didn’t you ever say anything, man?”
katsuki scoffs, the sound wet with grief. “are you shittin’ me? why the hell would i do that?”
kiri shrugs, long, dark lashes sweeping his cheekbones, leaving tiny wet marks. a year ago, the sight would’ve filled katsuki with rabid butterflies, but now it remains just an observation, one made passively and without thinking.
“i should’ve told you somethin’, i fuckin’ know that now, but i was - i was scared. scared of you hating me, scared of losing you. but i went and fucked that one up anyway, so,” katsuki laughs, self deprecating, and kirishima shakes his head vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.
katsuki’s throat is tight as he gives into the embrace, burying his face into kirishima’s shoulder.
“you haven’t lost me, kats, and you never will,” kirishima whispers, pulling apart far enough to press his forehead to katsuki’s, red eyes meeting red. “i mean, who else is gonna be my best man?”
katsuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “don’t fuck with me.”
kirishima shakes his head, a wet laugh escaping his lips. “not fucking with you bro. you’re my best friend. i want you there beside me on the happiest day of my life.”
after everything, after the year of no contact and the absolutely shitty way katsuki treated him, kirishima still wants katsuki by his side?
he’s honored, he’s out of his depth, he’s fucking nauseous, and he really wants to go home and tell you.
“i met someone,” he blurts and kirishima looks startled at the change of subject, but takes it in stride, a smile tugging at his face.
“that’s so great, dude, congrats! what’s their name?”
katsuki breathes it out and when he does, he realizes something, the force of it hitting him like a steel beam to the head.
“i think i’m in love with them.”
kirishima blinks, taking in katsuki’s tense form. he looks like he’s about to run away.
“i’m so happy for you, kats. really, i am,” kiri says, before being taken off guard yet again by the hug katsuki initiates.
“of course i’ll be your best man, shitty hair. i fuckin’ missed you too,” he murmurs and he hears kirishima sniffle. “i gotta go but text me and we’ll get lunch tomorrow or some shit, okay? i’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
he pulls away to see eijirou’s big wet eyes stare down at him with unabashed care and love, and katsuki feels his heart swell.
he got his best friend back and now it’s time to get you.
kirishima agrees to the meetup wholeheartedly and lets katsuki go with a hearty pat on the back and a shouted “good luck!” over the sound of the rain that started up during the last moments of conversation before going back inside the bar.
katsuki considers blasting his way to you, but he knows the optics would be incredibly unfavorable and his pr department would have his head, so he races to the train station instead and hops aboard, his mind racing with thoughts of you.
his hair is plastered to his forehead with rain by the time he gets to his apartment building and the button up is molded to his body like a second skin. he’s uncomfortable, of course, but he hardly pays it any mind because before he knows it, he’s unlocking and pushing open the door to your shared flat.
he’s home.
you startle from your place upside down on the couch, your paints and sketchbook cluttering the coffee table at the side while the tv plays an ancient looking cooking show quietly.
katsuki is bowled over by the sight, the weight of what he now knows as love sending him stumbling a little on his feet. he has to hold onto the doorjamb to keep his footing.
you sit up, observing, and you tilt your head. “you’re back early,” you comment, curiosity lacing your words.
he nods, not trusting his voice as finally steps past the threshold, kicking off his shoes and putting on a pair of hideous hawks themed slippers that you’d bought for him on your own birthday.
you hum thoughtfully before standing and disappearing down the hallway, katsuki’s eyes glued to you as you go. he can hear the sounds of you rummaging around in the bathroom, his feet frozen to the floor when you return, a fluffy towel in hand.
“you should shower, of course,” you say with a grin, opening up the towel and draping it over his head to dry it before moving on to the rest of his sopping body. “but i figured i’d keep you from dripping all over that ugly rug you’re obsessed with.”
katsuki doesn’t respond, can’t, and you don’t push or question, instead diligently wiping him down until he’s marginally more dry, eg, not actively dripping on the hardwood.
you move to go dispose of the towel and katsuki’s hand shoots out, not of his own volition, to hold you in place. it’s here he notices how close you’ve been standing to him, your breath wafting over his collarbones.
“bambi?” you question, unafraid of him, just lightly confused, but you don’t move away from him, somehow picking up his need for closeness without him saying anything, and he snaps.
“i love you,” he whispers, the explosion in his chest coming out in just those three gruff words, his carmine eyes boring into your own with an intensity you match.
a small smile spreads over your lips and your eyes light up, joy thrumming over your skin. “i love you too, katsuki.”
it’s perfect and katsuki can’t stop himself from cupping your face and pressing your lips together.
the kiss is gentle and chaste, your hands dropping the towel, coming up to rest on his forearms and holding him in place as you move your lips softly against his own.
katsuki feels like the rest of the world could implode right now, could be on fire or flooding or being overrun by villains and none of it would matter, not a single fucking thing because you’re in his arms and you’re kissing him back and you love him.
these thoughts ignite a hunger in him, a flame stoking in his belly, and he pushes further into the kiss, his hands sliding from their place on your face. one cups the back of your neck while the other slides down your back, pressing you firmly against the front of his body.
he’s almost giddy, having you like this, and he’s sure you can feel it because you’re smiling into the kiss like this is the happiest day of your life.
he thinks it’s his.
you continue trading kisses like this in your foyer, but it only escalates when your tongue flickers across katsuki’s bottom lip and you sigh softly, back arching against him.
katsuki has to break apart from you so he doesn’t consume you in that moment, but you don’t go far (you never do), your foreheads pressed together while you breathe in each others air.
“fuckin’ hell,” he chokes out and you laugh. “can i please - fuck - i need you.”
his honesty shuts you up quick and you nod, biting your lip. “take me to bed, bambi.”
and that he does.
katsuki’s hand finds yours and he pulls you towards his bedroom — you’ve been in there countless times, to watch movies, to nap, to read with one another, but of course, it was never like this.
the tension is thick but it’s not uncomfortable at all. you walk over to his bed and plop down on it like you’ve been in this situation a thousand times. the action soothes any residual anxiety katsuki might’ve had as he walks over to you, your heated gaze tracking his movements the entire time.
“take this shit off,” he grumbles, tugging at the garish all might crewneck covering your abdomen and you swat his hand away with an amused look.
he can feel his pout forming at your smile, but you just shake your head. “don’t tell me what to do, bambi,” but still, you raise grip the bottom of the thick fabric, lifting it up and over your head before letting it drop to the ground, leaving you bare.
or almost bare, if not for the objectively hideous, brightly colored, thin, cheap and lacey dynamight themed underwear covering your body.
“what the fuck is this?” katsuki doesn’t mean for his question to come out so reverent, but seeing you clad in his colors sends a bolt of heat down his spine so strong, he’s quite literally never been harder in his life.
you don’t seem to notice (but you always do), tilting your head at him with a grin playing on your lips. “they were on sale. didn’t think you’d ever see them.”
katsuki’s brows furrow at that, his hands tightening from their place on your hips. “who the fuck else was going to?”
you shake your head, like there’s something he isn’t getting. “no one. it’s always been you.”
“fuckin’-“ katsuki surges for you, claiming your lips with his with an urgency that had previously been lost. you respond in kind and this time, you’re letting out all these quiet gasps and sighs, writhing beneath him. he has to see you fall apart.
he reluctantly detaches his face from yours, kissing down your neck and sucking marks into the thin skin there, one of your hands sliding up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.
a moan escapes him at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, nearly getting lost in the mindless action, but he has to keep going. he makes it to your chest, laving his tongue over one of your nipples, flicking the hardened bud with the tip.
“f-fuck, bambi,” you outright moan and katsuki has to grind down against the mattress, his free hand sliding to pinch and pull at your other nipple.
your body can’t figure out whether to arch towards or away from his ministrations, which katsuki takes special delight in. you’re always so in control of yourself, even when you’re not, so it’s beyond rewarding to be responsible for your destruction.
“bambi - fuck - ‘suki, fuck me,” you groan and katsuki’s eyes roll back before he pulls off your nipple with a pop, his lips red and slick.
“nah.”
“nah?” you parrot, leaning up on your elbows with the closest thing he’s seen to annoyance directed at him written all over your face.
“nah. ‘m gonna make you come first.” katsuki grins, feral, and you shudder.
“get to it then, hero.” the moniker, while meant to be sarcastic and biting, just makes katsuki moan, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your (dynamight !!) underwear and tossing them to the floor.
he leans in, propping up one of your legs over his shoulder to bury his nose in the crease between hip and thigh, inhaling deeply. you smell sharp and tangy and so you that he couldn’t stop himself from taking a lick, entrance to clit, if he tried.
you sigh at that first touch of his wet muscle, melting in the bed while one hand remains buried in his hair and the other splays above your head. you watch him move with that intense look and you don’t look away so he doesn’t either.
he doesn’t look away as he slurps loudly at your entrance, tasting the wetness that’s gathered there with a pleased hum. doesn’t look away as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. doesn’t look away as he picks up pace, swirling, flicking and sucking until you’re chanting his name and “bambi,” your body tensing up as you buck your hips up into his face. doesn’t look away when you cum hard, soaking his lips and chin to which he eagerly groans, slurping up all you have to offer.
you pull him up to stop him from licking you through your aftershocks, kissing him hard once he gets to eye level.
“please,” you beg, eyes wide and urgent. who is he to deny you or himself?
katsuki stands and shucks off his boxers in record time, wrapping a hand around his cock that’s hard and leaking, the tip bright red.
your eyes eat him up hungrily, lingering on the way his precum spills over his knuckles with every slow stroke.
“i’m gonna suck your pretty cock tomorrow, preferably before breakfast,” you comment breathlessly. katsuki has to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming in that moment, taking a deep breath and glaring at you when you giggle.
“condom?” you shake your head, leaning back and spreading your legs to show off the wet mess he’s made of you.
“‘m clean and i’m in love with you. fuck me. now.” you can’t even sound commanding, not with the whine lying beneath your words, giving away how bad you want him. how bad you want this.
if the way katsuki’s cock legitimately jumped at your words is anything to go by, he obviously feels the same.
“goddamit, can’t fuckin’ say shit like that to me, jesus,” he rambles, crawling back onto the bed and notching the fat head of his dick into your entrance before leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and messy.
he pushes into you when your tongue is halfway down his throat and he nearly chokes on it. you’re so soft and wet and velvety — he’s gonna cum so fucking fast, holy shit.
of course, you know it too, know him like the back of your hand because you squeeze even tighter around him and slide your hand down between your bodies to rub frantically at your clit.
“you - oh, god, you feel so fucking good bambi, fucking me so well, always taking care of me,” your words slur together as your eyes roll back, his hips slamming into yours at a quick pace.
he wants you to cum first, wants it more than anything, but the dirty talk coupled with the way you feel clenching around him has him shooting off faster than he expected, a low, long whine leaving him.
his hips stutter against yours and fireworks go off behind his eyelids. it feels like he’s coming forever as he humps into you and that feeling is only prolonged by you coming around him, your cunt clenching so tightly, you force him out, his spend spreading all over your mons and pelvis with a choked groan.
after another long moment, he slumps against you, exhausted and happier than he’s ever been.
you hum contentedly, wrapping your arm around him to pull him half on top of you, your body succumbing to the tiredness that’s so quickly overtaken you.
“i love you, katsuki,” you whisper, the phrase thick with sleep and emotion. katsuki feels burning at the backs of his eyes so he buries his face in the crook of your neck to hide, kissing your shoulder when the words don’t come.
you know, though. you always do.
“fuck, bambi, we’re gonna be late!” you screech from your (now) shared room, the sound muffled from where your head is buried in the closet.
by the door, katsuki is trying (and failing) to tie his bow tie, the red fabric remaining uncooperative in his hands. he groans in frustration, raising a hand to run it through his hair but stopping short when he remembers how you painstakingly fixed it for him a few hours ago.
“i know! it’s this stupid fuckin’ tie!” he shouts back, staring at himself in the little mirror you purchased, smiling a little despite himself when he remembers that trip to the home decor store with you, picking out new items that represent the both of you for your apartment.
speak of the devil, you step up behind him, looking gorgeous in a red, floor length dress, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“you look really good bambi,” you grin, fingers dragging down his abdomen to rest on his waistband, but his hands stop your downward motion while he gives you a halfhearted glare through the reflection.
“don’t start that shit,” katsuki turns around in your hold to face you, your hands immediately finding his undone tie. you work efficiently, face so scrunched up and focused that katsuki can only lift your face to press a kiss to your lips.
you melt, kissing him back easily and when you pull away, his lips are tinged with your lip products, marked by you. “you have a little something…” you trail off, wiping it away, not realizing how he stares at you like you’re the sun and he has no other choice but to revolve around you.
“marry me,” katsuki blurts, heat burning at the tips of his ears after a moment of you looking at him in utter disbelief.
he worries for a split second that you’re going to say no, but then your face splits into the most blinding smile he’s ever seen.
“are you proposing to me right now, bakugou katsuki?” you tease, fingers toying with the tie around his neck.
he nods, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “so what if i am?”
you laugh and nod, tears filling your lash line as the lighthearted facade drops to reveal you, earnest and honest and so so in love with him.
katsuki has no idea how he got so lucky, what he did in a past life to have you in his life and agreeing to be with him, in his life forever.
“of fucking course, i’ll marry you,” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. “and i want nothing more than to make love to you on our brand new ikea sofa, but if we’re late to kiri’s wedding, he’s gonna kill me and make you watch.”
even the empty threat you make through your happy tears centers you in katsuki’s life, like you know that you are the center of his world, of his entire universe. you always know, know him better than he knows himself and there isn’t anyone on this whole earth who he’d rather be with than you.
he doesn’t tell you any of this though, blinking back tears instead and agreeing with a laugh, before finally ushering the pair of you out the door.
the thing is, katsuki doesn’t have to tell you.
you already know.
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shiroforest · 1 day
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In Shigaraki's psyche, Izuku saw a memory that's neither his nor Shigaraki's, and that memory is actually AFO's.
It's from 1st person point of view, in there, AFO seems to be acquainted with Shigaraki's Father, and AFO apparently worked in construction in Koga city (idk what 甲賀建設 Exactly means, but 建設 means construction or establishment, and 甲賀 is a city in Ibaraki Prefecture, and it's pretty close to Shizuoka Prefecture, where Izuku&his mom live)
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Then AFO invited Shigaraki's Father over a drink, and asked about Shigaraki's quirk, to which his father said it still hasn't appeared/identified yet
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You know what this means???
AFO must've LIVED A NORMAL LIVE sometimes to get acquainted with Shigaraki's Father while also monitor him!! Due to his connection with Nana.
And AFO asking about Shigaraki's quirk can either means he's monitoring if "Decay" has developed OR if Shigaraki can be GIVEN "Decay" later on.
This might also indicate that AFO also acquainted with Shimura household as a normal person, and if this shadowed figure with suits whom looked like AFO is indeed AFO, then it must've been like a family friend escorting the son back home
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Anyway, AFO finally came out of Shigaraki's suppression, now we can see some Izuku and AFO interaction and maybe a confirmation about the validity of DFO theory!!!!
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*it's also suspicious Izuku still DIDN'T GET TO SEE AFO's full face even from AFO's memory
**out of context, but AFO in his memory asked if Shigaraki's father had a lower back pain, and offered to introduce him to a good doctor, and i can't help but think "lol, it's just gonna be dr. Garaki isn't it? And he probably gonna order Garaki to do something to the only son of Nana" and the fact that AFO spoke to Shigaraki's Father SO POLITELY/using keigo (敬語) is weirdly nice, I'd like to see him speaks normally FULL FACE
***the irony of the villain who wrecked havoc in the country, might also once worked in construction of all places. Though it can be reasoned with "in order to destroy thoroughly, one must know how to built"
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baku-bombshell · 2 days
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toshiimura · 3 days
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