Bnha Angst - Blog Posts

boobs too big

pro hero!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — swearing, bit of spice + implied smut, 4.7k words, for plus size readers and/or readers who have a larger chest size

a/n: room was inspired by this fanart; [f/c] = favourite colour

You had just finished work for the day. It was around 5pm and you knew that your boyfriend, Bakugou, would be finishing up his patrol about now. You packed up your things and left the office, saying goodbyes and thank you’s to your colleagues on the way out. It was a quick walk to the train station. The mauve and orange sky filling you with awe. The breeze and was cool and slight, ruffling your hair and blouse gently. You got off in two stops and walked to Dynamight’s agency.

Sometimes, he would pick you up from work. Sometimes, you would come to his agency after work. And some other times, you two would just meet at home, especially if it had been a long day or one of you had the day off.

Today, you wanted to surprise him since you two had a great (wink) time last night and he had left so quickly and early this morning on call. You were left craving your hero’s touch and affections and what a better way to let him know than by surprising him after work.

The receptionists recognised you when you walked in, greeting you and letting you know that Dynamight wasn’t back yet, but he should be shortly. You thanked them and headed to the elevator, taking it up the top floor where his office was. Let me rephrase that, his office was the top floor.

Once you hopped off the elevator, you could see his empty office through the glass walls. You push the glass door open and enter, taking in how messy it was since the last time you had been in here (which was last Wednesday). You placed your bag down, resting against the leg of his large wooden desk. The scorch marks across it making you smile.

You came around to his seat, seeing the picture he had on his desk of you two at the beach. The frame was decorated with pasta pieces, a craft project you had taken too in the last few months. It made you giggle. You remembered that day at the beach. It had been so hot and Katsuki had been complaining the whole time about his quirk going off. And about you getting sunburnt. He was committed to lathering you up every two hours, especially since you were in a bikini that he ripped off that night back at the rental place. It was when he had first admitted to you how much he loved you. Not with words of course. No, you knew by how he had taken such good care of you that aforementioned night and you had (of course) reciprocated his feelings.

You looked away from the picture, rolling up the sleeves of your [f/c] blouse before bending to put pens and pencils back in their holder, sticky notes in a pile, empty the sharpener, and so on. You continued to tidy his office, moving from the desk to the shelving and seating. He really was messy, you thought to yourself. At home, it wasn’t too bad since you were there, but alone, damn was he a—

Your thoughts are interrupted by the ding of the elevator. You turn around, mid paper-picking up, to see the love of your life stomping angrily (as per usual) out of the elevator. His gloved palms collide with the office door and he’s huffing inside. When he notices you he shouts, “[Y/N] WHAT THE FUCK?! What’re you doing ‘ere, you brat?!” You laugh, placing the papers in your hands on his desk and walking up to him. He meets you first, and your hands are on his chest, you head tilted up.

You look so sweet, so kissable in this moment, and Bakugou can’t resist you. His sweat-laden gloves grab at your waist and you tilt your head back even more. You lick your lips and the way he crashes his lips down onto yours has you weak in the knees. You grip harder onto his suit, hands soon moving to the back of his neck.

He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, you can feel it as your breaths and moans intermingle and become one. His tongue seeks yours, rolling over your bottom lip and teeth. You fall further into him, your knees weakening even more. And he catches you, smirking wider and intertwining his tongue with yours. You can taste the remnants of the steamed salmon and rice bento you made him for lunch.

You moan particularly loudly into him, only further further inflating his massive ego. By the time you two pull away, you’ve got saliva dripping down your chin. You’re both panting, foreheads resting against one another. He chuckles at how pathetic you are for him pretending he’s not the one wrapped around your finger.

He takes off one of his gloves, wiping the spit from your chin with long, sweaty fingers. You hum softly and pull away from him, smiling. “You’re gonna ruin my makeup if you keep doing that.” You give him a teasing disapproving look to which he smirks, “I’ll do a lot more than fuck up your makeup, love.” He’s got that lewd look in his eyes and you have to turn away, hoping he won’t catch sight of the blush stirring in your cheeks.

You return back to what you were doing before, picking up the documents that had fallen off his cluttered desk and onto the floor. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Bakugou stalks over to his desk chair, pulling it roughly and plonking down in it. He’s got his feet up on the desk, taking his other glove and mask off.

He looks over at you and then around his office. His brows furrow, “Oi! Have you been cleaning up my office?” You look up at him and nod, smiling gently. He looks away, “Tch.” You watch as he crosses his muscular yet scarred arms across his chest, taking his feet down. “You mad at me, Suki?” You raise an eyebrow. He avoids your gaze as he gets up from the desk and walks around it, towards you. But, he doesn’t come to you.

Instead, he walks past you, not flicking a glance your way the entire time, over to the sofa at the far end of the office. You continue picking up the last pieces of paper that have fallen when drops a box at your feet. You’re startled by the noise and yelp, “Fuck, Katsuki!” You shift to look at him and he’s still scowling. He meets your gaze for a moment before rolling his eyes. “It’s the new merch…” He finally looks back at you. “For you.”

You’re immediately all giggles, tense shoulders relaxing. “Really? You got me new merch?!” You’re grinning from ear to ear, and you can see him get even more annoyed. That was one thing about him that had taken a while for you to learn. Even though he looks pissed off, he’s actually really happy that you’re excited.

“Thanks, Suki!” You step around the box and give him a hug. He grumbles but accepts it, patting the back of your head. You pull away from him and crouch down to the cardboard box, not paying attention to how he strides to his desk, plopping down in his chair to watch you.

You take the lid off and squeal. On top is an oversized black hoodie with a white skull on it. He knows how much you love his skull merch so this was really precious to you that he would bring out more.

Bakugou actually took part in his merch design. He didn’t come up with all of the designs, but he would meet with his team of designers to go over different ideas they had and finalise the next line of merch. This was unique in that most heroes outsourced their official merch design and manufacture while Bakugou preferred to be involved in his. He claimed that he didn’t want any of these ‘extras’ screwing up his designs, but you know that it was because he really wants for his fans to have nicely designed and good quality official merch.

It felt so soft and thick! This was definitely going to be your new fav hoodie. Your current one (which was another one of Dynamight’s merch) was falling apart at the seams after almost daily wear for the past five years. You set it on your lap and continued going through the box. This new range’s theme was skulls. You couldn’t stop smiling and giggling to yourself as you looked at each item, mesmerised. Bakugou watched you, nervous and happy-annoyed that you seemed to really like it. He had designed them with you in mind after all.

Beneath a pair of skull track shorts, you see what you think you’re seeing but not too sure if you’re actually seeing this so you end up pinching yourself. Dynamight underwear? There’s a reason why heroes don’t bring out official merch underwear and that’s because it takes a lot of work to figure out a flattering and attractive design that would make fans spend almost triple the price of regular underwear to buy. You’re in actual shock as pick up a skull patterned bralette by the straps.

The base colour is a pale orange with the opaque skulls printed on top. It blurs the line between Halloween and Dynamight merch, you think. But you also think that it gets extra points for versatility. The fabric is soft to the touch. Actually, it’s the softest material you’ve felt yet. The clasps at the back have also been flattened for comfort.

Bakugou stares at you intensely from his desk as you look at it. This is the moment he’s been the most nervous for. It was this piece that he wanted you to love out of the whole range as you’ve been complaining for a few weeks about how hard it is to find comfortable underwear that lasts a long time and actually looks good.

And he’s done it!

Just kidding. The bra looks like it was made for a pre-teen going through who just started going through puberty. You’re looking at it now wondering how the fuck that was supposed to hold anything in place.

Bakugou senses your dismay and pipes up, “You don’t like it?” You can hear the hurt in your voice. You quickly put the bralette back in the box and shake your head. “No! No, it’s not that, Suki-chan.” You’re waving your hands dismissively. “It’s just that…” Your hands fall from your chest to your knees and you look down, at the bralette. It’s so pretty and you know he must of worked so hard on it.

“Tch.” You look up, catching the end of his eye roll. “WHAT?!” He looks at you expectantly now, brows knitted together. You bite the side of your lip, anxiety jitters moving throughout your body in wavelike motions. But then you chuckle slightly, doing your best to shake it off. There’s nothing for you to be anxious about. “Suki,” you giggle, lifting the bralette up so he can see the front. You bring it next to your chest, straps hanging from your fingers. “What is this gonna hold?”

In an instant, his cheeks heat up and he’s grumbling to himself that it’s a fine size. You can see the blush extending from his cheeks to the tops of his ears and down the back of his neck. You smile and get up from your place next to the box, coming over to him and sitting on his lap (which he has no complaints about). You hold the bralette up to show him what you’re talking about, “It’s really pretty , Suki-chan. But it’s just so small. You know that… You know.” You’re giving him those pleading eyes. Those eyes of ‘please, don’t make me explain myself’. But, he just looks at you, blushing and scrunching up his brows.

You soothe the wrinkles with the pad of your thumb, but as soon as they’re gone, they come right back. He takes the bralette from your hands, holding it against your chest. And now, he’s beginning to understand what you were talking about. He huffs and places it down on your lap. It’s quiet for a few moments before you speak up, “I know you worked really hard on it, Suki. It’s okay. We’ll just—”

“Your boobs are too big.”

You’re staring at him, eyes wide, jaw ‘bout to drop. The fuck did he say to— “What?” He shrugs, “It’s not my fault your t—”

“Okay!” You hold up your hand, unable to tell whether he’s joking or not. “Thanks babe. Really.” You’re tone is dripping with sarcasm as you stare him down. But he’s unfazed by this sudden change in your mood. He shrugs again, barking out his laughter as he does so, “I wouldn’t want it any other way, you know?” He’s leaning over, in for the kiss. But you’re not in the mood.

You get off his lap but his hot hands grasp your wrist before you can really go anywhere. You back around to look at him and he’s got that sharp, lopsided smirk across his face. “I’ll make you a new one, eh?” You’re staring at him, brow raised, confused. But he doesn’t notice (he does but chooses to ignore it) and pulls you in for that kiss you tried to evade.

And it works, after a few moments the bralette sizing dilemma is forgotten. And so is the fact that the walls of Dynamight’s office are literally glass so anyone who happens to come up to the top floor of the agency can see into his office and consequently, the lewd undertakings that ensue.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

It’s been about week since Dynamight had given you a look at the new merch. After that afternoon in the office, the matter of the bralette sizing hadn’t come up since. You’re beginning to get a little suspicious since your boyfriend has been staying back after patrol ever since. He says it to review patrol reports, but if you knew better (and you do), you would say that it was to work on the bralette design.

It was around 12pm on Thursday when Bakugou called you. You had just gone to lunch break thankfully and picked up immediately. “Oi. Come by the agency after work. There’s something I wanna show you.” His voice was gruff and you thought you could hear the laughter of Red Riot in the background. “Mhmm, what do you want to show me?” You were trying to conceal your smile, but knowing Bakugou, he definitely could hear it from the other end of the line. “Tch. You’ll find out when you ‘ere, alright?” You giggle in response, telling him “Okay” and “I love you” before hanging up the line.

And now, you had just left the train station and were walking towards Dynamight’s agency. You couldn’t help the grin that was plastered across your face. You had been smiling ever since that phone call. So much so that your cheeks had begun to hurt.

It wasn’t long before you arrived, greeting the receptionists who directed you down the hall this time. You smiled and followed their lead, walking down the corridor and turning left down another hallway until you came to the design room. This is where all of the merch was designed and tested after manufacture. You knocked on the door, seeing through the little glass window cut-out on the door spiky ash blond hair. It opened after a few seconds and you were met with a woman who you assume to be one of Dynamight’s design assistants.

She had long, dark blue hair with equally blue eyes. She greeted you with a smile and motioned for you to enter. As you did so, Dynamight came up to you and snaked his arm around your waist. You giggled, embracing his tall, warm frame. He smelt like ash and smoke as per usual. He huffed into your shoulder before pulling away, smirking sharply down at you. You returned it with your own, much softer grin.

He had that excited look in his eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel excited by seeing it. “So,” you began, “Why did you ask me to come here?” He laughed, shaking his head slightly at your perceived dullness. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re gonna be my model for the new merch.” You blinked once. And then twice. Sorry what? Did you hear that right? Model? You?

You shook your head, now getting a better look at the room since Bakugou had stepped back. You could see boxes haphazardly stacked in one of the corners while a few sat opened on top of a long grey table. There were a few more assistants seated at the table, pulling the contents out and discussing the merch.

You looked back to the woman standing in front of you and then to your partner. “Um, what do you mean?” You asked tentatively. “Tch.” Bakugou put his hand on your lower back, still gloved and sooty, and led-pushed you over to the table. The blue-haired woman followed behind.

Once you got to the table, Bakugou pulled out the same bralette you had initially been critical of. Except this time, it looked like it actually might fit. He released his grasp on you and held it up to your chest, eyes glinting and lips pulling into another smirk in satisfaction. His red eyes flicked up to meet your own [e/c] ones and he thrust the bralette into your hands. He pointed to something behind you so you turned around, seeing that he was pointing to a little dressing cube in the corner. You put two and two together and turn back around, about to protest when Bakugou spoke over the top of you.

“Oi! Just try it on,” he rolled his eyes. Your mouth formed a hard line and you stared at him for a little before ultimately deciding that it was best to do as he says. I mean, he has put in all of this work to make this bralette fit you. And yea, it is a bit embarrassing to have to try it on when there are so many (not really but) of his employees around. But, he has the best intentions and you love him dearly for that.

You drop your bag against the leg of the table before walking over to the changing area. You pull the curtain shut behind you before removing your blouse and push-up bra to put on the orange bralette. Ah, you think, it feels so soft! You turn and look at yourself in the small mirror on the wall and wow, it really does look and fit so good. The bralette curves and sits perfectly over your breasts and on your under-bust. No spilling or gaping. You’re in awe of how Katsuki pulled this off. But then, you remember that you are dating THE pro hero Dynamight.

You pull the curtain aside and step out, your boyfriend’s sharp eyes on you from the moment you re-appeared. You walk over to him, trying to hide the smirk on your face seeing how his mouth had dropped open slightly and eyes were trained on your chest, blond brows completely relaxed. As soon as you’re within arms-length, Bakugou’s large gloved hands grab onto your forearm, pulling so that you fall into his chest. His arms are wrapped around you, eyes tracing the curves of your chest and then roving up your neck and to your jawline, lips, and [e/c] eyes.

You smile gently and giggle a little before he brings his hand to the top of your head and ruffles your silky locks. This causes you to giggle even more and look down, the intensity of his stare always making you falter.

At the sudden realisation that indeed, you two weren’t alone, you cleared your throat, archiving that cute smile he loved so much and bringing out the business look. You placed your much smaller hands on his chest and pushed him back slightly, earning you an irate noise from the back of Katsuki’s throat. You shook your head before tilting it to the side, “There are other people here, you know?”

He laughs from his chest, his warm breath hitting your face. “Oh, I know.” He’s got this wide shit-eating grin stretched across his face now. Great. You grumble playfully, “Suki-chan, we have to be professional.” He rolls his eyes at you, backing off now, “Tch.”

He takes the sight of you in again, very obviously checking you out. You begin to feel self-conscious with how much he’s staring at you. Automatically, your hands are on the move to cover your chest but you stop mid movement, seeing his eyebrows furrow, and force them back down by your sides. You are his model, after all. How can he improve his craft is you don’t allow him to evaluate his work? But this evaluation was teetering on the edge of shamless eye-fucking.

You clear your throat again, “Yea, I like it. You’ve done a really good job.” Your fingers start pointing to different parts of the bralette as you continue, “The band is really comfortable, the cups fit well, the straps are a good length. I really like it.” You give him a smile and tilt your head after you finish explaining. His hungry gaze lingers on you for a few moments more, tongue darting across his lower lip before he turns away from you.

Bakugou walks back over to the table, standing at the end of it, “You heard her. It’s fine.” You come up behind him and place your hand on his shoulder, standing a bit to the side. “It’s really nice, honestly. You’ve all done a really good job on it.” They nod, returning your grin with their own.

The blue-haired assistant asks if she can take some photos of you wearing the bralette for their quality assurance and fit records, and of course, you agree. Bakugou stands off to the side, pretending to be listening to one of the designers when in reality, all he can focus on is how attractive you look in his merch. 100% eye-fucking you.

It’s not long before you’ve stripped it off and have changed back into your work clothes. Bakugou still has some work to do at the agency before he leaves, so you give a him kiss on the cheek and thank the design team before catching the train home.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

Within the next week, Dynamight’s new skull merch line dropped and it was selling fast. The oversized hoodie and classic skull t-shirt had already sold out. Pro heroes such as Shoto and Deku were seen out in public in the orange and black skull bucket hats. This response from fans and heroes was unprecedented, and you had been buttering your boyfriend up all week about how incredible of a designer and businessman he was besides from being the greatest pro hero ever.

He has been pretty busy since, trying to manage his hero work, re-stocking of the merch, and the attention all of this has garnered from the media. In fact, he had just done an interview on the new merch yesterday. And today, your pookie was long gone by the time you had woken up — only at 8am since it was your day off — as he was on morning patrol from 5am to 1pm.

You sat up and stretched your arms overhead, yawning and smiling contently as you looked around your shared bedroom. Bright sunlight was streaming through the white curtains, illuminating the All Might poster on the far wall and shelf full of Katsuki’s All Might merch and trading card collections.

Groaning, you rose from the bed and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and shower. Afterwards, you made yourself a cup of tea and sat on the plush chair in the corner of your shared bedroom, pulling out your journal and writing down the dream you had last night. All was quiet, until your phone started buzzing like crazy. Every second a new notification sounded, sending your phone into a vibrating fit on the dresser. Annoyed and confused by this, you put your journal and pen on the table beside you and walked over to pick up your phone.

You had several missed phone calls by unknown numbers, as well as your friend and pro hero Mina. Bakugou had introduced you two shortly after you two started dating, and you and the pink girl had hit it off immediately. You unlocked your phone, seeing an alarming amount of unread messages. You opened the messenger app and scrolled, clicking on Mina’s chat. Not bothering to read her gazillion messages, you clicked on the phone icon up the top and waited for her to pick your call.

It was only on the second ring when her voice shouted into the microphone, “[Y/n]! [Y/n]-CHAN, ARE YOU THERE?!” You began saying ‘yes’ when she continued, “HAVE YOU SEEN IT?? Everyone’s talking about it!” You shake your head, brows now knit together and eyes narrowing, “Seen what?” Mina gasped, “YOU HAVEN’T SEEN IT?!” You had to pull the phone away from your ear. “No, Mina, I haven—”

“I’LL SEND IT TO YOU RIGHT NOW! THERE ARE TONS OF ARTICLES BUT THIS ONE IS THE ARTICLE!” Your brows only furrow further together. “Mina, what artic—” “OKAY, I sent it to you. NOW, GO READ IT!!” You chose to laugh, knowing that although Mina can be a bit over the top sometimes, she has your best interest at heart. You thank her and hang up the call, returning to the chat and clicking on the link she just texted you.

It takes you to an article titled ‘”Boobs too big.” Dynamight Challenges Standard Sizing of Hero Merch in Latest Release.’ Your jaw drops. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you read:

On a quiet Friday night, Dynamight reveals his true inspiration for making pro hero merch’s first ever plus size underwear range. Not even the previous Symbol of Peace ‘All Might’ attempted to tackle such a challenge. In fact, Dynamight is one of only a handful of pro heroes to ever release official underwear merchandise in history.

In his interview with Juko News, Dynamight explains how he wanted to create merchandise that was comfortable, flattering, and high quality for fans. He said, “I work with the team to design every piece… We [Dynamight’s design team] outsource construction and once that’s done, we test every size and make sure each item is good enough to sell.”

Now, this isn’t anything new. Ever since Dyanmight began selling official merchandise, he’s always had a hand in the creative process. But now, Dynamight admits that it was his long-term partner, [L/n] [Y/n] who is the reason why he’s expanded this new merch range to underwear and larger sizes. The pro hero said, “She’s always complainin’ about her bras not fitting right. It’s not her fault that her boobs are too big. Tch, why not design and make something she’ll actually like?”

Were you actually reading this? Did… did Bakugou actually say, on camera, that your boobs were “too big”. You were going to give it to him tonight.

Your eyes skim read the rest of the article. Struggles for larger-chested women in Japan; Dynamight is more than just a hero; call to action for other heroes to make larger sizes; excitement around re-stocking and future merch.

You put down your phone and walked back over to your chair, collapsing in it like you had just done crossfit or something. You couldn’t help but start giggling, which turned into full-blown teary, stomach-aching laughter. Bakugou was the love of your life, even if he was a bit rough and brash at times, he cares. And you know that when he said those things, he really did mean it with your best interest at heart. But he doesn’t need to know that you know that last part yet, yea?

upgrade pt.1

pro hero! midoriya izuku x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — most of izu's arm has been amputated, hurt comfort, swearing, 4k words, resources used linked at the end, non-mha characters are made-up

pt.2, pt.3, epilogue

You were stirring tofu curry in your kitchen. It’s delicious scent curling up your nostrils, tendrils seeking your body and your home. The television was playing in the back. Sliced spring onions freshly chopped on the wooden chopping board next to the stove. You were humming softly to yourself your favourite song.

Today was the day that your pookie bear, Izuku, was coming back from his month long mission. It had been a gruelling four weeks of rushed phone calls.

Quick “How’s your day been? and even quicker “I love you’s”. You missed his nerdy talk about all the latest heroes new moves and how much he still admires All Might, his cuddles and warm hands on your tummy when it was that time of the month.

You missed how he would always try to pick you up from work, clad in a face mask and Dynamight’s new merch. You missed making dinner together. You missed waking up together whenever you two slept together (cause separate beds in relationships is superior convince me otherwise).

He had been on an undercover mission to bring an underground quirk breeding organisation to justice. The fact that those still existed sent shivers down your spine. One time, you had asked him over call what it was like, being so close to all of that.

To which he dodged with, “It’s what heroes are expected to deal with, so don’t worry about it honey.” You probably shouldn’t have asked as all mission information is classified until the news gets their grimy hands on it. But, it still had taken you back that he didn’t want to talk about it.

But, you know that when he gets home, he’ll be tired but he’ll want to talk. And you’ll sit there, looking up to him, reminded of how strong he is and of how hard he works to protect you, to protect all of Japan. Speaking of which, he should be home by now.

Plucking you from your daze is the reporter’s voice shouting into her mic, “Breaking News!” You turn around, seeing her standing in front of Central Hospital on the small television screen.

“Japan’s Number One Pro Hero ‘Deku’ severely injured during quirk breeding rescue mission.” Your mind goes blank. You rush over to the TV, grabbing the remote, turning the volume up, and plonking down on the tan sofa.

You watch as footage comes on screen, showing Deku, outside of what looks to be an on-fire night club, surrounded by several villains in coordinated suits. Dynamight’s explosions can be heard in the back muffling the screams of girls chained and barely clothed who are being taken out of the building, covered in soot and coughing, by Shoto and Ingenium.

You watch intently as the villains lung at your hero. He dodges, expertly, using the intricacies of One For All to knock them unconscious. As gentlemanly as ever, even when he fights.

But it’s not enough. You continue watching, enraptured by the fight, as the reporter continues, “Pro Hero ‘Deku’, along with other heroes like Japan’s Number Two ‘Dynamight’, Number Three ‘Shoto’, and ‘Ingenuim’ have been on an undercover mission investigating quirk breeding auctions in downtown Tokyo’s underground night clubs for the past month. Tonight, things went awry as Dynamight engages, fed up with the secrecy of the mission, dragging the pro heroes into an intense fight with the villains orchestrating this conspiracy.”

“Of course it’s fucking Dynamight,” you mumble under your breath.

Deku’s now taking five villains at once when the left side of the building collapses due to the flames. It had been the entrance, where Shoto and Ingenium had been hauling out what you assume to be the victims of this scheme.

Shoto hands the young girl in his arms to one the firefighters at scene before turning around and yelling to Deku, “There’s still one more left in the building.”

Your hands have begun to shake. The suspense is wracking your nervous system.

“Deku attempts to dash back into the building when the villains he was just fighting jump onto him—”

They drag him to the ground, delivering some serious blows to his torso. The left side of the building further crumbles in on itself.

“Approaching Deku is another villain known to authorities as ‘Bon Appétit’. Quirk is knife.” Bon Appétit’s arms are comprised of different knives and swords, jutting out, sharp and glinting evilly. You cringe and yelp as the villain thrusts the blades into Deku’s left arm.

“Reeling from this blow, Deku uses One For All at what sources suspect to be full capacity, to fend off the villains and rescue the victim inside. Emerging—” The video pauses on a shot of him, girl on his back, left arm bloodied and dangling limply. From what you can see from the awful lighting, shaky cameraman, and torn shreds of Deku’s suit, his flesh is torn and skin (beneath the blood) has gone purple. No! “Deku’s left arm appears to be severely injured.”

The broadcast cuts back to the reporter outside of Central Hospital. There are a flurry of reporters and police surrounding the entrance to the hospital. She stands with her back to them and continues, “Pro Hero Deku was taken to Central Hospital to be treated shortly after 7pm. Our cameras caught—”

A video of an ambulance pulling up to the entrance plays on screen. Once it’s stopped, Deku is ushered out, flanked by paramedics. Dynamight steps out after him, shouting a string of censored curses and insults after broccoli boy in front—

“footage of Pro Hero ‘Deku’ being escorted by ambulance here with Dynamight and Shoto following suit. Love and support is being poured out by fans to Deku and his family tonight for his swift recovery. Hirota Miu, TBS Television.”

You sit there, hunched over, elbows on knees, shell-shocked. You don’t know how much time passes after the broadcast before you hear your phone ringing. You grab it from the low coffee table in front of you, clicking the green phone icon and bringing it to your ear reflexively.

“Miss [l/n], this is Dr Kita from Central Hospital. Deku gave us your details as his emergency contact.” You blink… and blink again. What? “Deku’s been seriously injured in his recent fight. He’s being prepared for emergency surgery on his left arm right now. You’re welcome to come in and visit once he’s out. The procedure should take 60 to 90 minutes. Just come to the front desk and give your information to the receptionists, and they’ll direct you.”

You stare out the window, looking at all the lights sparkling from above and below your apartment. How could everything seem so peaceful right now when your partner, your hero, was going in for emergency surgery?

“Yes I’ll, um, I’ll be right there. Um…”

“Is there anything else, Miss [l/n]?” You stayed quiet for a few seconds, trying to think of what to say.

“No, sorry. I’ll be right there.”

“See you soon then, Miss [l/n].”

You move routinely, going to your bedroom to put on a bra before lacing up some sneakers, throwing on one of Izuku’s hoodies over your t-shirt and mini shorts, and grabbing your bag. You leave your apartment hastily and practically run to the station, taking it to the one closest to Central Hospital.

There are no words to describe how you feel. Your heart is pounding hard in your chest, and not from the exercise. Your skin is crawling with anxiety. Your shirt clings to the sweat dripping down your back, and every so often you wipe your sweat-laced palms on your shorts.

Your thoughts consist of “Is he okay?”, “Why is he going into emergency surgery?”, “That idiot, I told him never to use One For All at 100% because it could lead to some serious damage! He knows that. Why would he risk it?! The blow from that villain was bad enough, why did he have to…?”, and the like. One thought triggers the next, an endless cycle until Central Hospital is towering above your small figure.

You keep it calm and steady as you walk into the lobby. The receptionist greets you and tell her your name and why you’re here. She nods knowingly, not bothering to confirm details and telling you to take the elevator to level 3.

You follow her directions, down the hall and to the left. You’re met with dull blue double doors. The sign above reading ‘Recovery Room’. You push it open, involuntarily inviting numerous stares from doctors, nurses, and recovering patients who are conscious.

A tall, lanky man comes over to you, dressed in slacks and white lab coat. He has a clip board in hand. “I’m Dr Kita. You must be Miss [l/n]. We spoke on the phone.” You nod, trying to gulp down your nerves.

“Mr Midoriya’s surgery will be finished in about,” Dr Kita looks down at his silver watch, “an hour. You’re free to walk around, get some snacks or something. Visiting hours end at 8pm, but I’ll make an exception for you.” He smiles gently at you. You nod and thank him before looking away from him, thinking about how you were going to kill time.

You felt sick to your stomach, knowing that your boyfriend was undergoing surgery at the moment. What else could you possibly think about but that?

“Actually, Dr Kita, I’d like to just wait here.” You look back up at him. He has jet black hair tied neatly into a low bun. His rectangle glasses slip ever-so-slightly down his nose, behind which sleek brown eyes stare at you with a look of understanding.

“You can’t wait in the recovery room but you can wait outside. We’ll call you in once Mr Midoriya’s is out of surgery.”

Your response is a whisper, “Oh… okay.” You look down to your feet, shoulders slumping. Quickly, you pick yourself back up, raising your head back up and asking, “So, I’ll just wait in the corridor?”

Dr Kita nods and says, “That’s fine.”

You turn to leave before realising that you hadn’t even been told what surgery Izuku was undergoing. You turn back around, noticing that Dr Kita hadn’t moved an inch. “What’s his surgery for?”

Long, slender fingers push the glasses back up his hooked nose. He sighs, “Unfortunately, Mr Midoriya’s left arm has suffered trauma beyond repair. The decision was made to amputate part of his arm.” Your mouth falls open. Amputate. His. Left. Arm?

“And who made that decision?” Dr Kita shifts under your piercing gaze. You make a mental note to apologise later for staring daggers into him.

“The trauma surgeon did. He’s in there right now performing the procedure on Mr Midoriya. I understand that this may come as a shock, but he explained to me that it was necessary and urgent to amputate Mr Midoriya’s left arm as the tissues in his forearm and hand were damaged severely. Mr Midoriya was losing too much blood and some bones in the forearm had been shattered. There is too much damage and danger to simply reset the bones and stitch him up. The surgeon’s doing what he can to salvage what’s left of Mr Midoriya’s arm.”

Are you actually hearing this right now? Is this real? Are you actually in the hospital right now, hearing a doctor tell you that Izu-chan’s arm is to be amputated? Did you turn off the curry before leaving? Fuck.

“Do you mean that the whole arm won’t be amputated?” You ask.

“It’s possible that the whole left arm won’t be amputated. The main damage was done at the forearm and elbow.” Dr Kita’s tone was fairly dead-pan. But you’re not thinking about how many patients he must of seen in similar or worse situations, or the worst situations. All you’re thinking about is your boyfriend who might be losing most of his arm right now.

You gulp and say, “I see… Thank you for clarifying. I’ll, um, I’ll go wait outside now.” Dr Kita nods in acknowledgement before you spin on your heel and take your leave.

For the next hour, you pace back and forth, up and down the hallways of level 3. You check your phone every five minutes, making sure that you have enough time for another lap of the level. After one painstaking, anxiety-inducing, palm-sweaty hour, you’re standing outside of the recovery room, waiting to be called in.

You’ve been thinking it over… just how will it be, Izuku without his left arm. He’ll be devastated. He confided in you soon after you two first started dating that one of his biggest fears was pushing his body beyond its’ limits. He wanted to protect people, to be an incredible hero, and he would do anything to achieve that. He was afraid that one day, he would go too far and he wouldn’t be able to come back from that. And then, he wouldn’t be able to protect people anymore. How would he react, knowing that part of that fear had become reality? What would this mean for his hero career? For your relationship?

Even as this new reality dawned on you, not once did you even consider leaving him. How could you? He was the man that you were so deeply in love with. You two were discussing marriage just before he left for that mission. Oh, why did he have to go on that mission?!

He means so much to you. He’s been there for you at some of your hardest times, like when you first moved to Japan to pursue a career at the front of biomedical engineering. Or when the public had found out about you two and had bullied you relentlessly for your quirk due to it’s similarities to All For One’s. It was all the tabloids could talk about for the entire week, before Izuku had released a statement under his agency, clarifying the differences between your quirks and re-affirming his love and trust in you.

He had been the reason that your life in Japan had become so much more inclusive, joyful, and prosperous. Hell, he had even taught you Japanese at the beginning of your relationship, and continues to help you whenever there’s an expression or word that you don’t understand.

That All Might otaku has been there for you through everything. If that had been you. If you had lost your arm. He wouldn’t even consider the possibility of breaking up with you. How could you?

“Miss [l/n].” You’re brought out of your thoughts, seeing one of the nurses peaking out from behind the recovery room doors. It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for. “He’s out.”

You rush over to her, entering when she pushes the door open for you and thanking her. And then, you spot ruffled deep green curls crowding a peaceful looking face. He’s still asleep. You let out a breath.

You follow the nurse over to the side of his bed, where you notice some other doctors in slacks. Dr Kita comes over almost immediately after you do. You’re by Izuku’s side, watching him. Speechless. About half of his left upper arm remains, wrapped beneath bandages with a stocking and drainage tubes attached. You can feel the tears starting come on. You tilt your head back, blinking rapidly. Not now! Not yet.

You look back down. The medical staff are talking in medical gibberish, so you focus on your pookie. It’s not that you can’t understand medical jargon. Being a biomedical engineer, you often work with such terminology. You’d just rather not right now. Not when Izu looks like an angel that’s fallen from the heavens as he sleeps. He’s got little cuts on his face that have been cleaned and had betadine dabbed onto them. His other arm has a cannula in it. It too is scarred and has other minor cuts that have also been cleaned up.

You sit on the side of his bed, waiting patiently for him to wake up. After a few minutes, his eyelids begin to flutter and soon, he opens his beautiful green eyes. You draw in a breath, taking in the dazed look on his face as he looks around and starts to move his head from side to side.

“Mr Midoriya,” Dr Kita says. His voice is calm and steady. It stops you from leaning over to cup Izu’s cheeks. For now anyways.

“Mr Midoriya, can you hear me?” Izuku groans in response, he begins lifting his right hand to touch his face when the nurse beside him gently grabs it mid-air and brings it back down the bed.

“Try to not to move too much, Mr Midoriya," Dr Kita says.

“Ugh,” he groans, his voice hoarse. “What happened?” Dr Kita holds up two of his fingers in front of Izuku’s face.

“Mr Midoriya, how many fingers am I holding up?”

Izu grumbles, “Two.”

“Good. How are you feeling? Are you experiencing any dizziness or nausea?” Izuku shuts his eyes, his brows creased. He hums in response, "Both."

You can’t stop yourself from calling his name this time. “Izu-chan.” His eyes open immediately and he looks down at you from the slightly raised bedhead. He squints, murmuring with uncertainty at first, “[Y/n]?”

You bite the side of your lip, shifting closer to him, “Yea.”

“You’re here, babe.” His voice is still raspy.

You hum in agreement, “Of course, I’m here. You okay?”

He chuckles softly, “Mhmm I—”

Fuck. He goes to move his left hand, presumably up to his face again. He usually rubs the back of neck when gets nervous. But no hand moves. Because there’s no hand to move. You watch, lump in your throat, as he winces, letting out a groan of pain. Your eyes move with his, to the empty space that was the rest of his left arm. He looks back up at you, before turning his gaze to the doctors and nurses watching him cautiously.

“I-I don’t… I don’t understand. Am I?” He tries to move his left hand again but lets out another groan. “I-No, this can’t. I—”

“Mr Midoriya,” Dr Kita cuts him off. “Yes, we had to amputate most of your left arm. You had experienced trauma beyond repair to your left forearm and elbow from a combination of severe wounds and the use of One For All at what we suspect to be full capacity. The surgeon decided that this was for the best.”

It’s like you can hear his heart shattering into a million pieces. It shatters alongside your own. The look of pain, of sheer, tortuous, anguish across his face hearing those words, you can’t hold back your tears any longer.

You sniffle quietly as they roll down your cheeks. “Sorry,” you murmur, voice heavy with sadness. You mentally berate yourself for crying, drawing the attention to yourself when it’s not your moment. But, you can’t help it. All you want to do is give your boyfriend cuddles and tell him everything is going to be okay. That you’re going to make it through this together. But all you can do is sit there and start quietly sobbing.

“Honey.” You look up through your tears and fingers trying to wipe them away. He looks like he’s about to start crying too.

Izuku shifts his gaze from you to the doctors. “Can you give us a moment?”

“Mr Midoriya, we need to some che—”

“I’m happy to do whatever checks you want. Please, just give us some space first?”

The doctors look amongst each other, communicating in an unspoken code before taking their leave. You let out a shaky breath, looking at your boyfriend lying beside you.

“Hey," he says, his voice cracking. You both laugh. You lean forward, cupping his cheeks in your hands. His right hand grasps your lower back softly.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle.

“For what? It’s not your fault.” He looks at you with a gentle gaze, just as gentle as his touch.

“I know but I—” you choke on your sobs.

“Hey, it’s alright.” His hand pressures you to move forward so you can lay on his chest. But you don’t. You look up into those glassy green eyes.

“I can’t," you say, your voice tight. One of your hand goes to his chest. “You’re in pain," you continue, shaking your head.

His brows knit together at this, “I-It doesn’t hurt there.” You pause before you nod knowingly.

You too can’t help but want to be close to him like this. You lay your head on his chest with care, hands close to yourself. His right hand strokes the top of your head, scarred fingers threading through your silky [h/c] locks.

You tilt your head back, looking up at him. “You don’t have to pretend it’s okay. I-I know it’s not okay.” You plant a shaky small kiss on his jaw. His hand cups your shoulder.

“Yea,” his voice trembles. “I…” You can feel his chest vibrate with the emotions rising to the surface. You hear him sniffle, and soon, you two just lay there, crying together. One of the nurses brings over a tissue box which you two drain, wiping tears away and blowing noses. No words can articulate the kind of moment you two share.

It’s only when you two have calmed down that you lift yourself up from his chest. You cup his cheek in your right palm and murmur, “You hungry? D’you want some water?” He shakes his head, sniffling up those last tears. You dab his under eyes with the ruined tissue in your other hand.

“I was m-making—” You stop to inhale and exhale a deep breath before continuing, “tofu curry when they called me.” ‘Your favourite’ you leave unspoken.

“Can you b-bring me some?” He pouts. You nod your head ‘yes’, chuckling softly as you look down, “I will but, I don’t think they’ll let me back in if I leave now. Visiting hours are over.” Izuku nods, gulping down those straggler tears.

“I think I might have left it on, so I’ll bring some tomorrow, okay?” He nods again, bringing his right hand to your cheek, thumb gently caressing the delicate skin below your eyes.

“Mr Midoriya, Miss [l/n]. Do you mind if we continue with the general check-up?” You both look at each other before looking back at Dr Kita.

“Of course,” you reply as you move away from Izuku and stand up next to his bed. “Do I have to go now or?”

Dr Kita looks up from his clipboard, “We’ve given you special clearance for tonight. In future, you’ll have to abide by visiting hours.” He’s moved from the foot of the bed to the left side, a distance away from you.

“Visiting hours are from 10am to 8pm. I would advise leaving soon if you’re catching the train back to your apartment. I’m sure you know that it’s not very safe walking around alone at night.” You hum in response.

You look back at Izuku who shakes his head in agreement. He sniffles, “I-I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” You nod, moving closer and leaning over him, placing a small kiss on his lips. Your first in a month. It’s brief but sweet. Just enough to keep you going until tomorrow.

“Stay strong for me, okay?” You say. Izuku smiles back at you.

You pull back and turn towards Dr Kita, “Thank you for all of your help, doctor. I’ll be back here tomorrow. Should I just ask at reception?”

He hums in response and says, "See you tomorrow, Miss [l/n].” You walk past Dr Kita, turning around once your approaching the doors, locking eyes with your Izu before leaving the recovery room.

The trip home is filled with replays of all that had just happened. When you got back, you found that luckily, you had in fact turned the curry off. You turn it back on, following the recipe in your mind to finish it off. Dinner, packing leftovers, dishes, all go by mindlessly. You’re still stuck in a daze by the time you sit in your plush chair in the corner of your room, pulling at your journal. It’s time to talk about it.

these are the links that I used to write this story:

https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/10iiud/amputees_of_reddit_what_was_it_like_to_lose_a/

https://www.quora.com/What-is-it-like-to-lose-a-limb-in-an-accident-and-how-did-you-handle-the-emergency

https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/psychology/cyborg#:~:text=Initially%2C%20a%20cyborg%20was%20described,to%20compensate%20for%20some%20disabilities

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyborg_(DC_Comics)#:~:text=transform%20the%20city.-,Powers%20and%20abilities,speed%2C%20stamina%2C%20and%20flight

https://www.fairviewrehab.com/nursing-care/care-after-amputation/

https://www.cancercouncil.com.au/cancer-information/cancer-treatment/surgery/recovery/hospital-recovery-room/

https://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/definition-amputation

https://my-hero-academia-fanon.fandom.com/wiki/Cybernetic_Arms

https://newsinhealth.nih.gov/2018/08/bionic-movements#:~:text=The%20bionic%20hand%20sends%20signals,hand%20is%20closing%20or%20opening

rut suppressants pt.2

alpha!todoroki shoto x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — angst, fluff, talk of kids, in the shower, 2.1k

pt.1

The next week is a haze. You’re constantly out of breath, panting and mewing and moaning and squealing and screaming and all the rest of it. Your body belongs to your mate and he’s playing with it, moving it, folding it however he likes. And you couldn’t ask for anything more.

You two become one in a mix of sweat and fluids gushing and dripping onto any surface (un)fortunate enough to be touched by your passion. Bed, dresser, floor, island bench, couch, shower walls, balcony doors. He’s got you covered in his fingertips, stained black and blue. Hickeys paint the expanse of your neck, chest, and thighs. Not even your arms or hips are safe from his assault. And you love it.

Of course, you had to call in sick from work for next week. The reason you rasped out quickly over the phone to your boss while Shoto was drawing you back beneath the covers, was that you’re mate was “awfully unwell” and you had to “take care of him.” And taking care of him, you sure were. If the presentation went well? Who knows, who cares. It hasn’t crossed your mind since he had taken your phone from your hand and threw it across the room, onto the floor.

It was now day eight. The late morning sunlight was filtering into your mess of a bedroom. You were clammy with sweat and other fluids. Your body was pressed against Shoto’s side, arms wrapped around his torso. His warm arm is draped lazily around your shoulders, while his cold hand is resting atop yours just below his pecs.

You had woken up first, using the first few minutes to take in the sight that was your alpha. His mouth hung slightly open, soft snores coming from his rising and falling chest. His white and red locks were tangled and matted to his pale forehead. You waited patiently, watching to see if those long lashes would flutter, and if his eyes would open… but, they didn’t.

Chuckling quietly to yourself, you slowly remove yourself from his grasp, which is no easy feat, seeing as you were quite small compared to him. It took about ten minutes for you to finally drag his arm off you; it had tightened when you started to move, leading you to freeze up and wait it out, until his arm relaxed. You wobbled on your feet.

This is the first time you’ve stood on your own and tried to walk in days. You limp over to the bathroom, the ache in your inner thighs, your hips, your back, arms, everywhere, making it hard to walk properly. Once in the bathroom, your hands grasp the sink-top. Looking into the mirror, you see your own reflection staring back at you. Dark under-eyes; knotty [h/c] locks, some clinging to your ears and cheeks, others to your temples; the artwork his mouth had left behind all over your chest and shoulders. This man… You sighed.

Taking it slow, you make your way into the shower and turn on the hot water, than the cold. You wait for it to reach that perfect temperature before getting under and moaning with delight. The warmth washes away the stickiness on your skin and eases your sore muscles. It soaks into every part of your body, and all you can do is just stand there, palms against the little blue square tiles, eyes closed, and enjoy the sensation.

Soon enough, you’ve shampooed your hair and now let the condition sit in it, long hair in a makeshift bun. You’re rinsing off the suds from your skin when a pair of arms wrap around your waist. One hot, the other icy.

“Shoto!” You exclaim. You were surprised that he had woken up so soon, and even a bit saddened that you wouldn’t have more time to yourself before getting railed again.

“Hey,” your mate mumbles sleepily into your shoulder.

You lean back into him and turn around, placing your hands on his muscular shoulders. He hasn’t shifted. He’s just resting his forehead against your neck. He always does this whenever you’re cuddling. He’s thinking of what to say next, so you stay quiet and give him as much time as he needs to think. Seeing his usual quietness return, you let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding in and smile. Your fingers run themselves through his locks mindlessly, dampening them.

You’re curling your fingers in the hair at his nape when he speaks, “I’m sorry.” Your brows furrow and lips pout. You pull back from him slightly, lifting his face up so that you can see that look in his eyes. Guilt. But why?

“Why are you apologising? You didn’t do anything wrong,” you say more quietly than you had intended to, the words coming out barely above a whisper. The running water almost blocks them out.

“For all of this,” he says. He removes his cold arm from your lower back, long fingers pointing to all of the hickeys and bite-marks covering your décolletage.

You giggle, “Don’t be.” You run your fingers behind his ears. “I don’t mind.”

He shakes his head, dismissing what you’ve said. “No, you should mind. I can’t do this to you again, [y/n].” He averts his gaze, turning his head to the side. You guide his focus back towards you, much preferring those angelic, heterochromatic eyes on you than on the shower wall.

“Shoto, babe, I don’t understand what you’re saying," you say, forehead creased.

“You should be angry with me for how I’ve treated you this past week. I’ve been so rough with you. I haven’t been taking good enough care of you. I—”

You pressed your finger to his lips, shutting him up. “But I’m not angry with you. Well, a little over lying to me about your ruts.” You cock your head to the side, taking in that extra guilty look he’s got now.

Giggling, you continue, “But honestly, this past week has been one of my favourite weeks ever! Even more than the week we were staying at that beach villa. Do you remember that?” You grin wide, slowly removing your finger from his lips.

He nods in response, “But—”

“There is no ‘but’. I liked it and I hope you did to.” He brought you back into him, his forehead going back to it’s resting place on the side of your neck. His lips brush your mating mark.

He sighs, “I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

“Why not?” You can’t help but sound hurt. He’s your mate, your alpha, your husband… your best friend. Why wouldn’t he want you to know all of him the way he knows all of you so intimately?

“’Cause,” he mutters, “it’s shameful.”

“Getting batshit crazy to protect and screw your mate? I don’t think so. It happens to all alphas.” You laugh a little before continuing, “I hate to break it to you, but your not that special, pretty boy.” Looks like your massive ego has returned.

He chuckles all raspy into your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin, incomparable to the steam gathering around your bodies. “’Not that special’?” He pulls back and steps away from you, taking his cold and his heat. His eyes stare at you in disbelief, face painfully far from yours.

“Nope,” you smirk. You look up into his eyes, right brow slightly raised, daring him to take it further.

But, he doesn’t fall for it. Or at least, not yet. “You’re saying that I’m ‘not that special’?” You nod in agreement. “Hmm, you’re right. I’m not that special. But that doesn’t mean I want to hurt you every time I rut.”

Fuck, he still feels guilty. You look away, already wishing that you could skip the rest of the conversation and get to the part where you’re making out again. “Babe, look, I told you, I like it when you’re rough with me, okay? I like it when your slow. I like it when your romantic. I like it whenever you touch me, so please don’t feel so guilty about it.”

He still doesn’t look convinced.

“Honestly. I mean…” You trail off, thinking of a way to get it through to him that being aggressive and horny asf is a normal alpha thing and not a self-discipline problem. “Okay okay, do you think that I’m some horny, pathetic slut when I’m in my heat?”

“Of course I don’t,” he frowns disapprovingly.

“It’s the same thing!” You say, your hands flying up to his chest as you take a step closer. “I get super clingy, you get super protective, and we both wanna bang each other. There’s no shame in that.”

You’re on your tip-toes, leaning up towards him. He looks so hot when he’s mad, you can’t help but want to kiss him. He sighs and obliges, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, hands back on your body, exploring conquered territory. You two stay like that for a little. Shoto moving to place small kisses on your nose, cheeks, eye lids, and forehead, before coming back to your lips. Much to your disappointment, he finally pulls back, cupping your cheeks and gazing deeply into your eyes.

“You never told me where you put my suppressants.” You groan, rolling your eyes involuntarily. Not this shit again. Don’t tell me he wants to start taking that cr—

“I’m not going to take them, there’s no use now. But please, tell me where you put them.” He wraps his fingers around your chin, bringing your focus back to him.

You shake your head ‘no’. He sighs in response, resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. You follow suit.

“Please.” You’re such a sucker for when he pleads.

Huffing, you give up the secret location, “They’re in the dresser, top drawer, beneath my underwear.”

No response. It’s quiet between you two for three seconds too long. Shoto questions, “But why?”

“Why’re they beneath my underwear?”

“No. Why did you take them?”

You bite the side of your lip, pondering if you should tell him why you really took them or not. You don’t have to think for long though, the flesh slipping out from your teeth. “I took them because I’ve never seen you rut before. And, um well, yea I just got a bit concerned, you know?” Your alpha removes his forehead from yours.

Tilting his head to the side, he asks “Concerned about what?”

“Well, um, you know—” It falls quiet between you two for another minute or two. The water hitting the shower tiles is the only sound permeating the tension.

“No, I don’t know.”

“Shoto,” you huff. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?” You pout. He continues looking at you adorably, confused.

You sigh, “Fine. I was worried that maybe you were on rut suppressants because you didn’t wanna have kids with me.” You got real quiet at the end there, averting your gaze to look down at your feet. Did Shoto always have such big feet? They look pretty massive compared to your own right n—

“You thought that I didn’t want to have kids with you?” He slid his hands to your waist, the similar sensation calming you. You looked back up at him, seeing that he had leaned back down now, your noses almost brushing.

You nodded, “Yea. You know, I-I thought that straight after we got married we would start trying but… we just, um, we just didn’t.”

You were biting your lip again. A nervous habit. A nervous habit Shoto loves. He brings his thumb to your lower lip, pulling it out from the clutches of your teeth. He watches as the flesh perfectly rounds. Sighing, he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is tender, but deep. Tongues are swirling, hands seeking more and more of each other’s bodies, little moans escaping here and there. He pulls away slowly, saliva connecting your lips before snapping with the distance.

“I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to make you doubt our future together. I just didn’t want you to see me like that.”

“I know,” you nod as you caress his cheeks with the pads of your thumbs, gently brushing over the edges of his scar. It’s quiet for a little as you two just take in this moment.

“Why don’t we start trying then? When our cycles sync up we can—” You squeal excitedly.

Grabbing onto his shoulders, you exclaim, “Why don’t we start trying now?!” You’re grinning from ear-to-ear.

“O-oh oka—” You cut him off, smashing your lips back together...

Let’s just say that your attempt at creating new life today seemed very promising.

Help to find a fic

I can’t remember was platform it was on which is the main problem;

It’s established Bakugou x reader with developing relationship Kiri x Baku and Reader

It’s ABO and Alpha Baku pursues Alpha Kiri without checking with reader and so she gets pissed and kinda almost breaks up w them

Baku wants them 3 in a relationship but he’s an idiot who doesn’t know how to actually apologize so he tries to make reader jealous by getting Uraraka to sit on his lap and wear him jacket to ‘make her realize he has options and that if she doesn’t come back she can be replaced’

Kiri gets pissed because wtaf is wrong with him and tries to talk to reader but she thinks he was in on it

Eventually she punches Uraraka and breaks her nose and when Baku tries to pull her away she punches him too

He tries to give her a scented gift as an indirect apology but it’s the same jacket he had put on Uraraka and he didn’t even wash it just tried to ‘cover up her scent’ but it just makes matters worse

He’s walking in the halls and stumbles across Present Mic and PM pretty much says that Baku is an idiot and that what he did only fucked up his relationship and that this stuff he got from his parents (via observation) wasn’t how to actually do a relationship and that is was just their kind of foreplay

Baku asks Mic for help

And that’s as far as I got and I desperately wanna finish reading it ;-;

alley rose | k. takami

you know he's not yours, but you'd still pick him in every lifetime. the worst part? he'd let you. (2785 words)

you never meant to fall into it.

and maybe that's the problem.

because things that fall tend to break, and you? you've never been particularly good at knowing when to catch yourself.

it starts with nothing. not even a spark, not a clear moment. no dramatic beginning. no pivotal shift in atmosphere. he just... shows up one night. stands in the doorway of your apartment with wind in his hair and fatigue under his eyes and a grin that looks like it's trying to apologize for both.

you don't remember who invited him. maybe he just appeared. you wouldn't put it past him.

you only remember letting him in.

he takes up space easily. like he's always belonged there. like the couch remembers his weight. like your walls never had a choice in loving the sound of his voice.

he doesn't say much. he never really has to.

he leans against the kitchen counter while you make tea, not even asking what kind, just accepting the mug with his usual crooked smile and a quiet, "you're a saint."

he doesn't drink it.

he just holds it between his hands, steam rising between his fingers like an offering he doesn't quite believe he deserves.

you sit in silence for a while. the kind of silence that feels earned. he doesn't fill it with nonsense. he lets it exist between you, thick and soft and settled like dust on a bookshelf no one has the heart to clean.

"you don't sleep much, huh?" he says eventually, with the kind of voice that makes the night lean in to listen.

you shrug. "not when the world's this loud."

he nods like he understands. like he feels it too. maybe he does.

he spends the night—not in your bed, never in your bed—but on the couch. boots off, one arm lazily thrown over his eyes like the darkness is too much. there's tension in his shoulders even when he sleeps.

you watch him from the doorway longer than you should. tell yourself it's because he's in your home. that you're being cautious.

it's not that.

it's never that.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

he returns three nights later.

you don't ask why.

he starts showing up regularly. not every night, but often enough that you start leaving the door unlocked out of habit. he never uses a key. he always knocks, even when it's past midnight, even when you're both pretending he hasn't been there three times this week.

he doesn't talk about work. never talks about heroes or headlines or what happens after he walks out of your door and lets the world chew him up again.

you don't ask.

you offer him a space. warmth. the silence he pretends not to need.

he offers... something else. something half-shaped. a hand on your back when you pass each other in the kitchen. a smirk when you call him out on it. snacks left on the counter. a blanket draped over your shoulders when you fall asleep on the couch, though he'll swear it wasn't him.

and one night, when you're both sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor with half a bottle of something nameless between you, he leans in and kisses you.

it's not hungry. not sharp. not even all that deep.

it's lazy. gentle. like he forgot himself and remembered you in the same breath.

when he pulls back, he just grins. "nice lips," he murmurs. "don't let anyone tell you different."

and then he's gone.

you press your fingers to your mouth and pretend it didn't mean anything. pretend it was just a drunk impulse. a thing he does. a fluke.

you tell yourself it won't happen again.

it does.

not the kiss—but the weight of it. the imprint.

the moments start to blur together. late night dinners. half-slept mornings. you learn the exact sound his jacket makes when it hits your couch. the rhythm of his breath when he falls asleep sitting up. the way his voice drops when he's tired, softening like he's forgotten he's not supposed to be real around you.

you learn how to love him without touching him.

he makes it easy.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

you don't talk about what this is.

not once.

not when he brings you takeout and eats with you in silence. not when he falls asleep with his head on your shoulder. not when he disappears for four days and comes back without a word and looks at you like he never left.

you tell yourself it doesn't matter.

because he's not cruel.

he never leads you on—not really. never calls you his. never asks you to stay. never says he loves you.

he just makes it feel like he does.

and maybe that's worse.

maybe if he'd been colder, you would've walked away by now. maybe if he'd kissed you like he didn't mean it, you wouldn't still taste him in your coffee. maybe if he didn't smile like you were the only person in the room—maybe then you'd be able to sleep at night without checking your phone for his name.

but he does. and you can't.

you try to pretend it's fine.

you're adults. capable of detachment. you know how this goes. some people just need somewhere to land. someone who doesn't ask questions. someone who lets them rest.

you can be that.

and for a while, you convince yourself you're okay with it.

because sometimes he looks at you and you think—maybe.

maybe this could be something.

maybe he just needs time.

maybe you're the only one who sees him like this—tired and soft and human.

maybe that matters.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

one night, he cooks for you.

it's a disaster. the pasta overboils, the sauce burns, and he sets off your smoke alarm because he forgets how sensitive it is.

you sit on the floor with him, coughing and laughing, fanning smoke with a magazine while he yells at your ceiling.

when it finally clears, he sits beside you. knees touching. arms brushing. smelling like burnt garlic and relief.

he doesn't kiss you that night.

but he falls asleep in your lap, and you thread your fingers through his hair and pretend he's yours.

he's not.

but he lets you pretend.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

"you're good at this," he says once, curled up in your blanket, the ends of his hair brushing your collarbone.

"what?"

"letting me stay."

you don't answer.

he doesn't expect you to.

˚⊹ ᰔ

you kiss again, weeks later.

it's different.

it's not light or easy or careless. it's slow. warm. aching.

he holds your face like it's glass. kisses you like he's afraid to stop. touches you like he's saying something he doesn't have the words for.

and afterward, he rests his forehead against yours and murmurs, "you always feel like home."

and you wonder if maybe this is something.

maybe this is real.

but then he gets up. leaves without looking back. and you stay awake all night, staring at the ceiling, wondering what you did wrong.

˚⊹ ᰔ

your friends start to notice.

"you've been distracted," one of them says.

"i'm fine," you lie.

they don't press. but they look at you like they know.

you delete the messages you want to send him. never hit call. never ask where he is when he disappears for days, weeks, reappears with new bruises and an easy smile and nothing in his eyes.

you pretend not to care.

but your hands shake when you wash his mug.

˚⊹ ᰔ

he shows up again.

you open the door. he looks tired.

you don't ask why.

he leans against the frame like he belongs there. like he knows you'll let him in.

and you do.

he doesn't kiss you this time. doesn't speak.

he just lays beside you on the couch. not touching. not sleeping. just breathing.

you turn your head.

he doesn't look at you.

you wonder if he's already left.

˚⊹ ᰔ

you don't remember the last time he said your name.

you don't remember the last time you said no.

˚⊹ ᰔ

there's no end. not yet.

there's just the quiet stretch of something wearing thin. the slow suffocation of wanting too much from someone who never offered you anything in the first place.

you tell yourself it's fine.

you knew what this was.

he never said it would be more.

but you wish—god, you wish—he hadn't made it feel so much like love.

because now, you don't know how to unfeel it.

you don't know how to stop opening the door when he knocks. how to stop hearing your name in the silence between his sentences. how to stop hoping.

and worst of all?

you don't want to.

not yet.

maybe not ever.

˚⊹ ᰔ

you don't talk about it.

the situation. the dynamic. the... thing between you.

there's no language for it. not really.

it's not a relationship. not a friendship. not even a fling.

but it's something. it has weight. it has presence. it takes up room in your life and your chest and your plans and your future in the way real things are supposed to. only it doesn't behave like something real. it behaves like a ghost with too much nerve. a shadow that leaves fingerprints on your heart but disappears when the light comes on.

you try to explain it to a friend once. someone who notices the way you pause when your phone buzzes. the way your smile flickers when it doesn't.

"is it serious?" they ask.

you open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

because how do you explain it? how do you articulate the emotional toll of being almost loved?

so you shrug. "it's nothing."

you lie.

but you shouldn't have to.

˚⊹ ᰔ

hawks—no, keigo, because he insists you call him that when you're alone, like that somehow makes him more honest—isn't cruel.

that's what you keep coming back to.

he never promises you anything. never strings you along with declarations or dates or matching mugs in the cupboard. he doesn't label this. doesn't even try.

but he lets you sit close. lets you hold his wrist when he's pacing and won't tell you what's wrong. lets you run your fingers through his hair when he comes back with blood under his nails.

he lets you treat him like someone you love.

and in return?

he lets you pretend he loves you back.

˚⊹ ᰔ

you try to find clarity in the small things.

like in the way he leans toward you in crowds. the way his eyes soften when he hands you a drink. the way he listens when you talk about things that don't matter.

but the truth is, affection doesn't equal intention.

and you're tired of translating his silence into possibility.

˚⊹ ᰔ

he disappears for two weeks.

no warning. no explanation. just gone.

the first few days you check your phone constantly. reread old messages. try to remember if you said something wrong. if you asked for too much. if he finally got bored of the emotional middle ground you let him live in.

the silence grows louder.

by the time the seventh day passes, it becomes a roar in your head.

you don't call. you don't text.

you tell yourself it's a boundary.

it's not. it's fear.

because if you reach out first, you won't like the answer.

˚⊹ ᰔ

he shows up on a tuesday.

doesn't knock. just opens your door like nothing's happened. like it hasn't been days since he last looked at you. like he didn't vanish into the wind and leave you to rot in your own expectations.

he drops his bag by the couch. throws himself down and stretches like a cat, muscles flexing under his shirt, wings shifting slightly.

"miss me?" he says with a grin.

your heart cracks. so quietly, so precisely, you barely feel it.

you sit beside him. don't say anything.

he throws an arm around your shoulder like this is normal. like you're normal.

"sorry," he says casually. "work stuff."

you nod.

he doesn't elaborate.

you don't ask.

and the silence between you stops being safe. it becomes suffocating.

˚⊹ ᰔ

you start pulling away in increments.

you don't make him tea anymore when he shows up. you don't wait for him to call. you stop folding his jacket when he leaves it draped over your chair. you stop making room in your drawer for the little things he forgets behind.

and he notices. of course he does.

he notices the tension in your jaw when he touches you. the fact that you turn your face away when he leans in like he might kiss you. the way you no longer meet his eyes when you say goodnight.

he doesn't say anything.

but one night, when you're both watching some movie neither of you are paying attention to, he speaks into the dark.

"you okay?"

you hesitate.

then: "i'm tired."

he hums. "long day?"

you don't answer, and he doesn't ask again.

˚⊹ ᰔ

your friends start asking questions. real ones.

"is this working for you?" "what do you want out of this?" "are you happy?"

you laugh them off.

but the ache in your chest lingers.

because no. you're not happy. not really.

you're in love with someone who only shows up when it's convenient. who never shares the parts of himself that matter. who touches you with familiar hands but guards his heart like it's state property.

and you? you've built a home out of his shadows. you've memorized a version of him that doesn't even belong to you.

you don't want to do this anymore.

˚⊹ ᰔ

but you still do.

because it's better than nothing.

because the alternative is letting him go.

and that feels like losing something you never got to keep in the first place.

˚⊹ ᰔ

then one night, it changes.

not loudly. not dramatically.

just... changes.

you're sitting on the floor again, legs stretched in front of you, a blanket around your shoulders and the tv on low. keigo's beside you, but not touching. for once, there's real distance.

you glance at him.

he's staring at the screen, eyes unfocused.

you don't recognize his expression.

you whisper, "why do you keep coming here?"

he blinks. looks at you. "what do you mean?"

you shrug. "i mean... you never talk. you disappear. you show up without warning. and i let you. every time. i don't ask for anything, and you know that."

he stays quiet.

"so why do you keep coming back?"

the silence stretches. you think maybe he won't answer.

then he says, soft: "because you're the only place i don't have to lie."

your stomach twists.

because that should mean something. it almost does.

but then you realize—

he's not saying he wants you. he's saying he likes what you give him.

peace. comfort. quiet.

you're not a person to him. you're a haven.

and he never had any intention of staying.

you breathe in, slowly, and nod.

"okay."

he looks at you, confused. "okay?"

you stand. your knees ache. your chest does too.

"you can go now."

he rises slowly, uncertainty flickering across his face for the first time. "what?"

you repeat it. "you can go."

he studies you. then smiles, like it's a joke. "don't be dramatic."

you stare at him. "i'm not."

something in his expression falters. "look," he says. "i didn't mean to—"

"i know," you say. "that's the problem."

he goes quiet again.

you continue, softer now. "you didn't mean to kiss me. or stay. or sleep here. or come back. or look at me like that. or make me feel like you wanted something real. and you think that's enough. that because you never said you cared, you didn't have to."

his mouth opens, then closes.

you're tired. so, so tired.

"you never had to lie to hurt me, keigo," you whisper. "you just had to let me believe you wanted me here."

he doesn't argue. he doesn't reach for you. he just stands there.

quiet.

just like always.

you don't ask him again to leave.

he just does. eventually.

without slamming the door. without saying goodbye.

and maybe that's what breaks you.

because there's nothing dramatic to hold on to. no final fight. no angry words. no declarations.

just absence.

and that hurts more than anything else.

˚⊹ ᰔ

you sit in the quiet after he's gone. your blanket falls off your shoulders and you don't pick it up. you sit there until the sun starts to rise.

and when your phone buzzes hours later, you don't check it.

because you already know—

it's not him.

it never really was.

SO, during this quarantine period and all I noticed that a lot of you guys had become (more?) depressed. I really hate when people are feeling down because... I mean who deserve that?

If you have, like me troubles sleeping or just you want to pass time and think about other things I created an ASMR YouTube Chanel ( Who is quite a Fanfiction reading Chanel tho) to try to help you cope a little bit : PeachyCan

I am taking request so if you need one of our boys or girls from UA High to tell you they love you or just want a specific scenario, DO NOT HESITATE AND SLIDE INTO THE DM’s you know 😏 Even if you just want to talk or else I would be more than happy to discuss with you all 😘😘

Damn I know there must be a lot of grammatical mistakes in this but hehe English is not my first language so meh 🤓

Hope I can help even if it’s just a little bit so don’t hesitate and share the message, and the Love , PeachyCan.

A Guardian Angel and a Saint? Naw… not anymore

To be a Hero PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 PT5 PT6 PT8 PT9 PT 10

Talk of killing and torture methods, suicide mentioned,  The two are insane and Izuku is OOC but all in good love... in their own way) angsty

That caught Kurogiri's attention… Such a shy, innocent, quirkless boy… insane? “Bullied from a young age, pride hurt after all these years that his girlfriend is his guard dog… he wants to be the provider, the protector for once… and he knows his best chances are through you” She chuckled, “though you won’t see him kill much… Naw, torturing is more his style”

(Lets continue)

Kurogiri listened intently to her words, he had a feeling these two were much darker than they led on but to hear such a thing... "I see, so he derives pleasure from causing pain... and you... you bring release for the person through death. What a horrific balance but yet so perfect" He hummed, staring at the girl with a rather fearful look...' How on earth did they get away with it"

"Yes, but no one knows of what we did!" She hummed, staring back at him. "We've done it twice, and having dark magic makes clean up really easy" Reaching for the glass again, Y/n ran her fingers all over it. Kurogiri watched, taking a slight step back as the glass began to shake, cracks lining the edge before it completely shattered. However, the pieces of glass never moved, frozen within a ball of purple and blue hues.

"Your magic?" He questioned, moving closer once again, staring in amazement as the shards looked as if they were stars that lined the galaxy. "Incredible, must have been easy to get into U.A. uh?" He suddenly felt...sorrow, guilt... He had taken these young adults away from a bright future...

"Yeah, but in all honestly... I only followed for Izuku... Never found a good family amounts heroes" She lifted her hands, before moving her hands closer to each other causing the glass to shatter within the bubble. "They find my ability horrifying, but you guys... We have a family now! More people to protect and have our backs" Her bright smile practically blinded him.

'A bright future indeed' He chucked softly, a small warmth taking over him. "Indeed, a dysfunctional family. I feel you will have a good impact on Shigiraki... hopefully display a true sisterly role to him" He glanced over where the ash-blue man sat, leaning forward as if that would help him see better.

"You love him huh?" Y/N questioned, glancing at her boyfriend and Shigiraki...Kurogiris's eyes widened slightly at her unexpected question. He stammered for a moment before recomposing himself to maintain his stoic demeanor.

"Love... Is a strong word," His voice was tainted with defensiveness. "He's a valuable asset to my master... and he trusts me" He spoke... completely contradicting his words about family earlier.

"naw... you see him as your son" she murmured, releasing the seal she had over the powdered glass and allowing it to fall onto the surface of the counter.  "Hey! hook up an extra controller I want in!" She hummed, hopping off the stool, and made her way over to the couch, leaving Kurogiri there with the mess of both the glass and his thoughts.

"Peculiar girl" Kurogiri hummed, eyes fixated on how easily she settled herself between the two boys.

"Welcome home love" She giggles, knocking her shoulder against Izukus, causing him to huff softly and lean into her.

"It's good to be home" He hummed, kissing her forehead before refocusing on the screen.

"oi! Before we start the next game, it's important to mention something" Shigiraki paused the game, taking the attention of both, "about a month from now... U.A's gonna go on a little field trip... and we're gonna chaperone it" He watched as their playful moods shifted into hard looks, and nods of understanding. "we're betting on the number one being there... a little test zone to say the least" He hummed, moving to scratch at his neck. "If we kill him fantastic!, but if not... we won't be risking much" The two nodded, a slight giddy feeling taking over Y/n as he continued to speak of the plan.

"AH, we should get outfits! I don't wanna fight a bunch of people in just jeans and a t-shirt" and she began to ramble, potential colors, code names, masks, everything she could think of that would make them look truly villainous. And of course... her lovely boyfriend was already taking notes on what she wanted and the materials she'd need to make these outfits.

"Yeah.... great idea but WHERE THE HELL DO YOU EXPECT TO GET THIS FROM" Her words annoyed the man, yes... he wanted all this. Wanted to look like a badass video game character... but how exactly was she planning on accomplishing this.

"Duh, I'll make them! We can go and gather materials!" She hummed, before turning to Izuku, listing a couple other things. To say the two villains were shocked... was an understatement.  She had every intention to design, make, and sew them gear and costumes... "I'm taking over a room for crafts" she spoke quickly giving a heads-up before returning her attention to Zuku, who was ferociously writing.

"Right..." Both sweats dropped at her demand... not a question... a statement.

(minny time skip)

After taking quick measurements and kicking both Izuku and Shigiraki's asses in Mario's cart, the two love birds decided to head to bed... As both showed, dressed and now lay snugly under the covers, Izuku couldn't help but chuckle at their situation. "I'm... really thankful you're here with me... I don't know where I'd be without you" He pulled her closer, allowing her body to fit perfectly against his.

"You'd be in a grave my love" she hummed, running a hand up and down his back, breath hitching whenever her fingers ran over a burn scar.... 'I'll kill him' Her brain hated Bakugo... wanted him bleeding out and to save his head as a mantelpiece.

"You're right... if you were not there to catch me that day... I'd be dead" He allowed his mind to trail back to that event... the one that pushed him to the edge of the building... to taking the final leap that others had him teetering on. (flashback)

"Quirkless people can't become heroes... you better off risking your life as an officer... might make you living more wild" The number one stood tall, looking at the meek boy who knelt before him, tears streaming down his freckled face... begging for some type of recognition.  "Sorry kid... but if you wanna be a hero... better off waiting for the next life" and with that... the man leaped, into the sky, villain within a bottle, leaving a heartbroken kid... stuck atop a roof... with no one around.

'Another life... another life...' the thoughts ran rapidly through his brain. How many people had told him that... why would no one believe him. Was being quirkless... did it truly make you a waste of space. Curling into himself, hands gripping his crazed hair... the boy sobbed, tears dripping onto the floor more frequently than before. His voice caught in his throat as he tried to process the words over and over again. His best friend... turned bully "Just jump off a roof and pray you're born with a quirk in the next life"... his idel... "Sorry kids... better off waiting for the next life"... every single one of his classmates.. "haha Deku!" "What a loser" "Quirkless!!" "How pathetic... still trying to play hero?" Why... why were they like this.... why would no one let him dream?! Shaking his head, trying to force the thoughts away... not even realizing his body was moving on its own... so desperate for a chance, a quirk... that it did the only thing he could think of...the only thing he was constantly told.

His red shoes screeched from his fast steps... the wind hitting his face as the ledge came closer... and his feet refused to stop... so he took the leap off the rooftop... and prayed for a better chance in the next life... just like he had been told so many times in this one. The wild caused his hair to move wildly... no one was in sight as he plummeted... yet everything fell in slow motions around him. The sky was clearer for some reason... the wind was crisp and refreshing... the glass on the building reflected his body completely... his tear-stained face staring back at him. He looked like a fallen angel... one's who's wings had been clipped, and was forced to fall rather than sore. "I'LL BE A PRO... in the next life," he spoke to no one but himself, closing his eyes, feeling the ground approaching... waiting for the end... no no no... his new beginning... right?! Surely no one would miss him! Not his mother who... who would sit by the door waiting for a man that would never return... just like she had done when she heard the news of her husband...

'Mom...' and suddenly the world came a little clearer.... no, this wasn't what he wanted for her.... she was supportive of him! H-how could he think of doing something so... selfish but yet.... he didn't want to stop the fall. "I'm sorry Mom... but it's better this way" eyes now shut tight, his so-called worthless life flashing before his eyelids... never a girlfriend... not a single friend since 1st grade... no first kiss... no more anything...just closer.

"Uh... I think you dropped something" A voice...a female voice, soft, but stern... suddenly he realized it was directed at him... the wind had stopped, the free fall feeling leaving entirely, prying open his eyes, he was looking directly at the ground... but it wasn't approaching any closer... maintaining its distance... inches in front of his face.  Looking up he was met with a goddess, her hand outstretched, producing his sort of mist of blue and purple... her face framed with y/h/c locks and big beautiful eyes... and... a school uniform... one that matched his exactly... stunned, he said no words... just watched as she smiled softly, a relief look on her face...  "I'm Y/N... nice to catch ya!" with a head tilt and an even brighter smile... Izuku realized he had found his new beginning.

"h-hi"

(end flashback) Izuku was so lost in the past he hadn't realized he was shedding tears, pulling her body impossibly closer to him. Flinching slightly, when a soft kiss was pressed to his bare chest, "He will pay" Her words were vague but he understood completely... who, why, how... with a soft hum, she allowed sleep to consume her.

Izuku watched as Y/n fell asleep, peacefully in his arms. Her breathing became soft and steady, savoring the soft feeling of her body against his. Closing his own eyes, allowing her scent to fill him, carrying him right behind her into dreamland.

(GOD EXAMS NEVER END!!!! uGHH, anyways.... HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ANYONE THAT CELEBRATES IT, was in the feelings today and ugh!!! had to write some of their first meetings... anyways HAVE A GREAT DAY AND REMEMBER TO EAT, DRINK, AND LOVE YOURSELF BYEEEEEE LOVE YOU ALL) P.s I'm debating on adding a little side chapter... some lovey-dovey crap if ya catch my drift! Let me know in the comments and I'll try to deliver... okay byeee for reals this time!!!!!!!! !! ! ! !!

Could you do a bakugo fic where him and the reader get Into a fight?

Thanks for the ask! I don't like how this one ended but I still might do a part two.

It had started off small, a tiny argument because your husband had missed one of your important work events after promising that he’d be there this time. But Katsuki being Katsuki and you not backing down had blown it out of proportion.

“I forgot okay! My bad! I wasn’t there, I will be next time!! He yelled as you huffed “You’re never here! That’s the fucking point Katsuki!” you yelled back causing him to shut his mouth quickly and glare at you with narrowed eyes “You keep saying you’ll be there but you never are!” 

“I have a fucking city to save that’s why!!” he shouted trying to reason with you but to no avail as tears sprang to your eyes in frustration. He wasn’t getting it. The past few months had been like living with a stranger and you’d only been married a year and you were tired. “There are plenty of other heroes for the city! I only have one husband and sometimes it feels like I don’t even have that!! You yelled tears of frustration pricking your eyes as you willed him to understand but to no avail as he scoffed “don’t be so dramatic”.

“Dramatic? Really?? When was the last time you asked about my day?? When was the last time you said ‘I love you’?” you questioned as he paused counting the days in his head but to no luck as he shrugged reluctantly. He couldn’t remember. “Exactly.” With that, you grabbed your pillow and made your way out of the bedroom because it was late and if you didn’t lay down you were gonna break down right there on the floor. 

He fucked up. He knew that, he hadn’t realized it had been so long. Now he laid in a cold bed all alone and a pillow missing but that didn’t matter as he kept replaying your question in his head; when was the last time he had said he loved you?? But he couldn’t find and answer and the only answer there was would simply break his heart in two. You didn’t normally yell, not at him so how long had you been feeling this way? All these questions and no answers were driving him crazy as he thrashed around in the bed trying to get comfortable. 

You were gone by morning. Gone to stay at a friend's house according to the note you had left. He wasn’t sure why sleeping in the living room wasn’t adequate in putting space between the two of you but while he was sure you were still pissed he called anyway. You didn’t pick up the phone, no doubt still sleeping but it still stung although he knew you needed the rest for you had been worrying yourself sick over him for months now. 

You never did come back. And there never was a next time.

It was supposed to be quick, easy, and painless. Tired of living with the ghost of your once loving marriage, your soon to be ex-husband had been served all the documentation needed to sever your ties to the man you once thought you'd spend forever with. But it seems, forever wasn't in the cards for you. It never was.Now you stood staring down the duel haired man as he begged you to take him back tears brimming his eyes with emotion you haven't seen from him in months. He was begging, pleading, sobbing for another chance. You thought you couldn't leave him for such a long time, he was all you had but you weren't his everything the same way he was yours. "Go home Shoto" you whispered pained "you are my home" he pleaded as you shook your head. No, you hadn't been his home nor he yours for what felt like decades but was only months. Two months,four days,twelve hours,nineteen minutes and thirty seconds. That's how long it's been since your divorce was finalized and everyday you found your ex husband sobbing on your doorstep begging for you back "leave Todoroki, I won't drown for you again. Not ever." Drowing. That's what you were constantly doing while trying to save your sinking marriage, but never again would you allow it to happen.

Never again.

He had been gone for almost three months. Doing who knows what, leaving you with nothing but a slowly dying promise that he’d return and it was slowly becoming clear that he’s likely never coming back. He’d left you. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in your life, that you’d find something that made you happy and eventually it would end or that person would leave.

Usually it was easy picking up the pieces, but this was entirely different; he hadn’t left any pieces shattered on the ground for you to pick up like you were so used to. No, instead he simply vanished and took every piece of you with him. It left you feeling numb, spending every night crying in the bed the two of you once shared, his presence leaving a lasting imprint in your home and inevitably in your soul and a bottle of whiskey clutched to your side. It didn’t make sense to you, things seemed so well and it left you wondering if something had happened to scare him away.

Your scarred partner was many things and it wasn’t that hard to imagine him up and leaving without a thought but he had promised and amongst the many things he was, a liar wasn't one of them. So why wasn’t he back? It was a question you’d often ask yourself late at night. 

He never did come back but staring down at his body at least you finally knew why.

How would present mic, aizawa, midnight and ms joke act if one of their students sacrificed themselves to save the teachers life

Eraserhead

Devastated. Pissed. Literally any negative descriptor. We all know that his students are basically his children and to have one of them sacrifice their life? He put fear strong enough to kill a man into the villain, using it as a distraction until it was time for the parents of the student to be informed where he left their residence with his head hung low as grief radiated through the house and through himself. He can’t even sleep without seeing it on repeat again and again in his dreams and they all ended the same; with one less student then they entered the battlefield with. Overall I think he’d be the most distraught of the teachers in a situation like this.

Ms Joke.

Cannot for the life of her figure out where everything went so wrong but tries to cope using comedy. This led to her essentially ignoring her own feelings about the situation until they crashed through her mental barriers with the force of a tsunami. Slowly, things she used to enjoy seem less and less interesting, and her brain was always scattered as she fought to improve both her own strategies and that of her remaining students to prevent the situation from ever arising how it did again.

Present Mic

He was in both shock and denial for a while until it came time for him to speak at their funeral service. He gave his speech but then had to quickly excuse himself and ended up sobbing in his car as guilt overflowed and only multiplied as he spotted the students grieving family watching as the casket was lowered into the ground. He was forced into mandatory therapy before he was allowed to go back to doing his pro hero and teaching duties.

Midnight

She hadn’t noticed the villain coming up behind her until she heard the thud of bodies dropping behind her. She was distraught and wracked with guilt beyond what she knew was possible. She blamed herself for months despite knowing that the student knew full well that being a pro could cost them their life, even while in training, even when patrolling with someone more experienced. The press had a field day with the story, so much fun that it was hard for some people to tell what really happened. The only constant among all the stories was that she was to blame for the loss of that student and it haunts her everyday.

Ok but I fucking love the idea of God of War! Bakugou falling in love with Goddess of Life! Reader but not being able to express his feelings bc of his role.

The man in charge of so much death and despair for his own amusement stumbling upon the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen silently crying in their haven as she re-sows burnt crops, sends rain to cease the flames that burned villages, and redirects lost children back to their family. She weeps because she knows that as part of her life, she must always be shadowed by Bakugou since Bakugou is a reflection of mankind. As long as there is man, there is war. As long as there is war, there is Bakugou.

He feels kinda shitty about it because he’s never had to look at the aftermath of his doings; victorious feasts of rich meats and wines always came after leading corrupt leaders into battle. Seeing something so divine weep over something so fragile makes his stony heart twinge a little. He knows he can never approach you fully to court you because of your destinies. It kills him inside, so he might reconsider starting that war over a stolen pig.

HELPPPPP WHAT IN THE FORBIDDEN LOVE/UNREQUITED LOVE/ANGST/GREEK GOD AU/COLD-TURNED-SOFT/BAD BOY X GOOD GIRL IS THIS 😭😭😭

You’re the hope women and children pray to in times of war, watching over their trembling figures as they clutched their shaking hands together and wept your name.

Nurturer of Battlefields, hear me!

Mother of Light, hear me!

Lady of Spirits, hear me!

Let your children live through the destruction of men!

Oh Goddess of Life, hear me!

Now save your children!

Nights they’ve spent, whimpering chants to you while their fathers and brothers and husbands and sons fought under the other watch of another god. It was either one side of women and children captured and raped when all their soldiers fall, or the other side safe with abundance of stolen goods.

What could you do but to let the god of war decides for himself—and you’re left to weep as fallen men rot to death on their own land; unable to enter the gates of the underworld as they wander Earth as silent souls.

Victory was taken while loss hammered the damned to death, a side of women and children were safe while the other is left to be enslaved to the people who killed their lands.

While on the other hand—bloody red eyes and golden blonde hair, the god of war celebrates the wins he’d side with. People would offer sacrifices of slain bulls and goats and goods for the aid of his on their side; humankind would do anything to not be killed.

Songs and chants were written to him every night as they offer their offerings, singing about how the strength of Bakugou is worth 5 thousand of the strongest warriors.

He had enjoyed victories for centuries while your tears turn into rain that put out the fire of burning cities. He cheered through blood that splattered all over his golden armour while your tears washed dried red off of the grass of battlefields.

Slowly as time went by, prayers to you by the women in hiding ceased. After all, centuries of prayers did nothing for their land. It was all in the hands of Bakugou—the god of war.

Lord of Destruction, hear me!

Lord of Fallen Cities, hear me!

God of War, hear me!

Now pity the lives of us and bring us victory!

Lord of Slaughter, hear me!

Slay the damned enemies!

They’d pray and pray, with clutched hands and hopeful eyes. And you’re forgotten as the nurturer of battlefields.

At last, when the men were planing to burn all their fiend’s offsprings and wives alive—you discarded the dignity of a goddess and knelt in front of Bakugou. Rain poured as you pled for the lives of the innocent.

The war god had seen mortal being bowing beneath him, kiss his feet as they cried for their lives. But it was a first for a goddess to kiss his hand as she begged for mere mortal lives. You were almost powerless beneath his strength.

Humans could live but war was bound to happen. And he was bound to shine as marble statues in temples.

That was the tragedy. War can only end if life simply never existed; and you were the true mother of war.

It was only because you were a fellow god, he thought, impossible to kill that he no longer is appeased with the killing of women and children—and the Lord of Destruction would send thunders that struck huts and horses if he was angered.

Soon, Bakugou finds himself spending his days when he’s not battling in the quiet temple of yours. He would disguise himself as a bird, resting on a tree that runs with your holiness. Your tenderness and warmth for humanity were rare amongst the Gods and Goddesses, and he finds the epitome of beauty in that.

But what could he do with his heart? He birthed war and you begged against it. He thirsts for blood and you use your tears to wash it away. Mortals pray to him for the befall of their own kind and they pray to you for the lives of their children.

The both of you were never supposed to be destined. So all he could do, with his heart that beats feelings for the Lady of Spirits, was simply watch afar at your marble statue in your temple and listen to your weeps as yet another city burns.

The blood of friends stained his hands.

Some hero I am. Why me..?

I can draw angst, letS GO- A piece on how I think Hizashi is going to blame every cut and bruise on his friends on himself. He is unharmed while his friends fought tooth and nail.

When Hizashi is quiet, his thoughts are louder than his quirk. He's had a lot of time to think over the 2 days.

Aizawa losing it? Yes please-

After the Breakup (BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Welp, I was going to write for more people but when I started for these two babes-for-characters I guess I just couldn’t stop🤷‍♀️. Not quite sure how these headcanons turned out but hey, hope you like ‘em! (Btw they get a lil saucy, but I’m just in that mood so y’all are just gonna have to accept them for what they are🤷‍♀️)

Word count: 2120

Bakugou Katsuki: 

Wants to ignore you 

Definitely the type to fold his arms and turn away when you enter a room or scoff when you talk to another guy

But when you walk away the guy is being given a glare that could put him six feet under

Acts cold to you--not exactly like how he did before he was interested in you, like how he calls everyone “extras,” but more so like he just sneers at you for no reason and rolls his eyes everytime you speak

Lil pomeranian boi just misses you really badly

But he hates the idea that you have that much power over him that you could draw him back to your side in a matter of seconds. It frustrates him how much he wants you back

At one point he’s tired of having nightmares of you leaving night after night--especially now that he doesn’t have you to comfort him after waking up in a cold sweat. 

So he’ll climb out of bed and stomp over to your door

And proceed to stare at it for about twenty minutes with his mind and heart running marathons

What does he say?

What does he do?

Would you be mad? Sad? Disappointed?

Or… would you even care that he was still in love with you?

It all becomes too much, and soon enough he just has to know

So he raises a fist to pound on your door loud enough to wake the entire floor

And the door opens before he even makes contact. 

“Katsuki?”

“YN.” Surprisingly, Bakugou feels all too calm at this moment, like he knows exactly what to say. 

“What are you doing here?”

A muscle in Bakugou’s chin twitches as he struggles to find the exact words. He wanted to make his point but he also didn’t want you to slam the door in his face. “I… Look. You told me that we should both move on and that I should get over you.”

“Katsuki-”

“But here’s the thing, YN,” when he takes a step forward, you take a step back and he physically flinches at the movement, “I don’t want to.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to get over us and move on to other people. I don’t want to see you with other guys when I know I could make you happier. That I have made you happier.”

“Katsuki,” your face softens, “you don’t have to-”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t have to do, YN. I’m not letting you go, understood? Try to move on all you want, I’m not going to let you. I’ll scare off any man you even talk to if I have to-”

Two hands piled over his mouth shut him up instantly and you lean past Bakugou to glance both ways down the hall before yanking him inside your room. 

As soon as the door’s shut, you turn to him and shake your head with the smallest little smile. 

“Katsuki, you dumbass. I was just going to leave my room to give you the same lecture.”

“Huh?”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” you cup his cheek, reveling in the foreign look of shock on the blond’s face, “so no need for anymore threats on guys I may or may not go out with… unless you’re really willing to go after yourself that badly.”

Relief floods through Bakugou’s body, warming him up with the thoughts that he didn’t need to worry about truly losing you at all--as it turns out, you agreed you were his just as much as he did. 

“So… we’re back together?”

“Yep, unless…”

Oh shit

“Unless what?” Bakugou froze under your touch and reached a hand up to secure your palm against his cheek. “What is it?”

It almost pissed him off that you were able to laugh so freely while he was in an obvious state of panic. 

“Well, I was gonna suggest break-up sex but judging by just how badly you want to get back together, it seems like that’s off the table.”

Oh. Oh you damned little thing. 

Such a fucking tease. 

“Nah,” Bakugou shook his head and before you knew it, you were being forced down onto your bed, wrists locked tightly above you. “You’ve got the right idea. Break-up sex tonight, and tomorrow we can make up all day long.”

Kirishima Eijirou: 

On the surface, Kirishima is the same old manly man everyone knows him to be

But his eyes no longer have that same glint

And that smile just always seems seconds away from faltering

His red hair seems less spiky than usual, and those bags under his eyes are just the biggest tell

Kirishima is broken. 

He’s not grinning and holding your hand as he walks into class anymore, escorting you to your seat with a perhaps almost overdone kiss. Instead, he almost slumps to his own seat, avoiding eye contact with as many people as possible. 

But the instant you step into the classroom, you feel it.

You sit in the front row, giving him plenty of freedom to watch you for the entire day.

Kirishima thinks it’s natural, it’s harmless. He’s just trying to get over an ex--everyone knows how hard that is.

But he’s just making things worse. He tortures himself by constantly standing to attention anytime you speak. Or anytime your name is mentioned. Or anytime someone who remotely looks like you walks by him. 

No, he’s not doing great at this “moving on” thing, and he knows that. 

But part of it’s because he just can’t believe that you’re not struggling to do it either. 

Kirishima knows none of those kisses and “I love yous” were lies. He knows you meant every single hug and smile you ever gave him. Every time you said you cared about him, he could see in your eyes that you meant it wholeheartedly.

So maybe you could see how he wondered why loving you was suddenly so painful. 

Because now you were broken up and all this love he had to give you had nowhere to go and nowhere to be. It was like the love he had for you was useless. 

Kirishima hated those words, that thought. That being in love with you for all those months was useless, and that it just needed to be flushed away. 

All those plans he had of being with you, becoming superheroes at one another’s side and raising a family together. Planning ahead so far to even name the bridesmaids and groomsmen of your wedding and the names of your children. 

The future house and the rooms of that house, how many there would be and what kinds they were. You needed a library, one he was all too ready to build for you and he wanted a mancave you would surely supply with snacks.

All of that was useless. 

But Kirishima didn’t want to think so. So he came up with a plan. 

And when you walked into class the next day, Kirishima sat in your assigned seat, and you knew you smelled mischief. 

“Eijirou… whatcha doin’?”

When Kirishima raised his eyes to yours, the corner of his mouth turned up just an inch. 

“Sitting.”

You purse your lips. “I see that. But you know you could do the same exact thing in your own seat, right?”

The conversation wasn’t exactly a spectacle--the only other people in the room were in the back of the class talking amongst themselves distractedly. No one would bother to interfere. 

“Well, YN,” Kirishima leaned back, “I kinda want to trade places for a day. I wanna sit in your seat and act all nonchalant, pretending like I actually wanted us to break up-”

You could hear his voice growing choked up and moved to stop him. “Eijirou-”

“-and you can sit in my seat and do as I do. Remember how happy we were and how much you said you loved me. And how I broke up with you anyway.”

It was cold, like the room had suddenly dropped a few degrees. The boy everyone thought didn’t have a single mean bone in his body seemed to flip a switch in himself, turning emotionless in the blink of an eye. 

For him to act like you never loved him almost hurt as much as when you broke up with him. In all honesty, you thought it was for the best at the time. You felt it would help both of you focus on your studies so that you could become better heroes than anything. 

You thought that’s what Kirishima wanted, and that you were doing what was best for him. But you were wrong.

It seemed all he really wanted was you--being a hero had moved to second. 

“Eijirou…”

So the question was did you want him just as badly?

“YN…”

Becoming a hero was the entire reason you came to this school, and was also the reason you broke off one of the best relationships you’d ever had. You’d thought you were making things better. 

But had it really helped anything?

“Eijirou, I…”

Your grades had actually dropped. Terribly. You couldn’t remember the last time you actually got quality sleep. 

And judging by Kirishima’s dark circles, he was suffering the same side effects. 

These weren’t the symptoms of withdrawal--they were just the signs of a mistake. 

So as you looked into Kirishima’s eyes, hard enough to see past all the barriers he had put up, you could see the same questions you kept asking yourself. 

Why did I ever think this was worth it? Why did I ever think this would help me be happy?

The answer was it didn’t. 

And trial and error was a pain in the ass. 

“Eijirou, I’m sorry.” Your brows drew together in regret as you lowered your gaze, reaching over to grab the hand Kirishima had tensed on the desktop. “Maybe… no. Breaking up was definitely a mistake, and I wasn’t even thinking of the shit I was going to put both of us through by doing that. I’m sorry.”

But just as his mouth opened to respond, the bell rang and twenty other students flooded in in a mad dash to get to their seats. 

Before you moved to claim Kirishima’s seat as your own, you made a split second decision that you hoped could display even a little of what you were thinking. 

Kirishima froze at the kiss, his eyes going wide as you tilted his chin up to give yourself access. His lips were soft, just as you’d dreamt about for the last five nights, and tasted like that damned chapstick he always wore. 

And when you pulled away, he tried to reach out to stop you but you stepped away from his desperate hands, instead navigating your way back to his desk. 

Kirishima was frantic, spinning in your seat to get a look at your blushing face while his own mouth stayed open enough to catch a couple flies. The second your lips quirked up into a smirk, he almost jerked back with whiplash. 

Fucking hell, she did not just-

“Okay class,” Aizawa slumped into the classroom with his usual cheerfulness. “I want you to take a look at-wait.” The teacher paused for just a second to take note of Kirishima’s back facing him and you just five seats away whistling and observing the ceiling with interest. 

“YLN, Kirishima, get back to your original seats for God’s sake. There’s no time for this.”

All too ready, Kirishima rose from your chair and made his way towards you with eyes unsteady and hungry. 

Tonight you would explain just what exactly you were thinking when you decided to break up with Kirishima out of the blue. I mean, you seriously almost gave him a heart attack. 

Directly after school though…

Kirishima caught your arm as you moved to walk past him and threw you a look that would stick in your mind for the rest of class. Just as fast, he released you completely and dropped into his seat, eyes locked on your every move as you slid into your own.

Oh yeah. Directly after school, he was going to make you pay for the pain you put his mind through with your body.

May I request an angsty scenario in which Shigaraki has to leave his fatally injured s/o behind during a mission?

The Mushroom Cloud (Shigaraki x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Shigaraki promised to come back for you in that warehouse. Promised to save you, pinned under exploded debris that crushed your legs to nothingness. The ambush wasn’t supposed to happen, but neither was the explosion that occurred after. “Fine, you can come. But if your ass gets blown up, don’t come cryin’ to me.”

A/N: Ouchie, this one’s gonna hurt y’all, just sayin’. As an author, I’m kinda required to want you to cry over this, so feel free to tell me if you do. As always, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2012

        The mission wasn’t supposed to be easy. There were an enormous number of risks that came with it. 

        “YN!”

        You had fought so hard to go with him, arguing every point and saying that you wanted to stay by his side. Impatience had won in the end, and in a fate-sealing way, your wish had been granted. 

        “Fine, you can come. But if you’re ass gets blown up, don’t come cryin’ to me.”

        It was only supposed to be a joke. A little jab at you to show just how much he really wished you hadn’t joined the mission. 

        They were blowing up a warehouse heroes used to hold supplies. First aid kits, medicine, anything else they would have needed in case the League of Villains had struck in a dangerous way. Decidedly, the group wasn’t too fond of the heroes possibly having an upper hand in the event of one of their attacks, so they struck.

        “AHH!” 

        It was an ambush. Not even from heroes bound to a code to preserve all life, but from the country’s army. Soldiers trained to kill had flooded the enormous warehouse, firing at every moving target in their range until they had all fled.

        You were one of the few they hit. 

        “YN!” Shigaraki cried out your name once more, pushing past fallen shelves and barely managing not to trip on the pill bottles they previously held. He followed your moans of pain, sprinting in the general direction of where they originated, along with where he had seen the flash of orange. 

        Fired bullets echoed through the hollow building, bouncing off the metal walls and filling his ears as he searched for you. 

        There. Trapped under a tipped forklift, you whined, banging against the machine with a hopeless desperation Shigaraki had never seen before. It drove a sliver of fear through his heart as he crashed to his knees beside you, barely holding back his own tears at the sight of your crushed legs. 

        The angle at which they were bent was so wrong. Your knees had caved in on themselves, curving in a direct opposite way of how they should. Blood pooled on the floor beneath your thighs, directly where shattered glass from the machinery’s windshield had impaled your flesh. 

        Your hands were shaking, covered in your own vital fluid as you let out strangled cries, pawing so desperately at the too-heavy weight. 

        “YN! YN, look at me!” Shigaraki’s hands were trembling just as much, each finger begging to scratch at his neck in a nervous twitch. It was like he didn’t know what to do with them; first, he hovered them over your legs, then the weight above them, then finally on your face as he directed it to his. 

        “It hurts,” you wailed, banging your head against the concrete floor below. Hot tears trailed down your face, and in the distance, the other villains tried to fend off the army soldiers. 

        There were just too many. 

        Shigaraki was at an age now where he knew when a battle had been lost. Everyone would have to flee and recover before the next attack on the heroes. But shit-- he had to get you out of here first. 

        “Shh,” he hushed, scrambling for more words. He didn’t want to feed you-- or himself-- lies. “It’s- you’re-” he choked on a sudden weight in his throat. Something like a snake coiled around his stomach, tightening and tightening until he couldn’t speak anymore. 

        In situations where Shigaraki lost his composure, you were always the one to take over for him. You were the one in your relationship that kept a level head, spoke with slow words, and always calmed him down. 

        So even though it hurt, fuck it hurt so much, you knew what you had to do. 

        “Tomura.” So much blood had drained from your body that when you lifted a hand, you almost flinched at how contrastingly pale it was compared to the liquid covering it. Nonetheless, you cupped his cheek, wiping away the small tear that had leaked out from under the hand. “You have to go-”

        “NO!”

        “Listen to me-”

        “NO YN,” he shouted, voice just barely audible above the grenade explosions and gunshots. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not happening.”

        “Tomura… you can find me later. You just need to get out of here now.”

        He opened his mouth to protest once more, only to duck his head at the flying debris of a nearby blast. 

        “Just come back for me later! Get the others out now, and I’ll wait for you here.”

        “YN…” A bitter taste of pure bile crawled up his throat at the sight of your mangled legs, but he knew better than to try. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn’t strong enough to lift the machine off you. Your solution was right; leave now, and come back later with someone stronger.

        He hadn’t realized it then, but you already knew there wasn’t a later.

        “Okay. But you better not do anything fucking stupid until I come back.” Anger flared in his stomach at his utter incapability of handling the situation. It disguised the hopelessness he felt, the despair in knowing he couldn’t be your knight in shining armor. 

        Heroes be damned. Shigaraki wanted to be your savior right now. 

        “Okay.” You mustered up the best smile you could, but it faltered with every unbearable twinge of your paralyzed legs. Even if you did make it out of this, somehow, you would never be able to walk again. 

        After pulling away the hand on his face, he pressed a kiss to your lips. It was needy and frantic, a half-ditch effort to display your love for each other for what could be the last time. 

        When Shigaraki pulled away, he saw blind faith in your eyes, but read it entirely wrong. 

        He thought you trusted him to save you. 

        You believed he was strong enough to move on from losing you. 

        “Don’t. Go. Anywhere.” 

        “I’ll try not to.”

        And with that, he rose one last time, gathering up his fallen hand and pressing it back to his face. Red pupils trailed up and down your body and its surroundings, memorizing the exact situation so he could find you later. 

        “League, retreat! Villains, fall back!”

        At the call, his allies stopped their attacks. Flames stopped caressing fireproof soldiers. Knives, swords, and anything else flying at the heavily-guarded soldiers ceased in their movements, and suddenly the building flooded with stomping feet. 

        He was almost surprised that was all it took, until he realized that everyone else was just as desperate to escape this hellhole as he was.

        The League would take this loss. But Shigaraki would never forget what it had cost him. 

        Navigating the large warehouse was easy; though it was almost the size of a miniature airport hangar, it was mostly clear aside from the occasional wooden box and metal shelf stocked with health supplies. Through the fingers splayed across his face, Shigaraki trailed after his fellow villains, following them as they fled through the nearest garage door and into the surrounding forest, darkened with the dead of night. 

        I can go back for her later.

        I can’t save her now.

        Later.

        Later.

        Later.

        “Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered, scratching at his neck when he finally caught up with the others, all stopped at a tree so far from the warehouse that it was just barely visible through the thick brush. 

        Heavy panting combined with the natural hoots and calls of nature as everyone tried to catch their breath. Dabi slumped back against a tree, sliding to the ground and dropping his head back to let out a long groan. Toga followed suit, along with Twice and Spinner and before long, everybody was sitting in some way, dead tired from fighting on their feet for what felt like hours. 

        As the last left standing, Shigaraki knew he was catching curious glances from the others, but he was too anxious to sit. His eyes, puffy from having to leave you behind, shifted over every villain at his disposal. Which one would be strong enough to-

        “Tomura.” Kurogiri, looking ever so restless in the shape of a constantly-fluttering, black cloud, eyed Shigaraki confusedly with his yellow gaze. “Where is YN?” 

        “I had to leave her behind. Now I need someone to go back with me to-”

        He felt it before he heard it. 

        The force of the boom. The wave of pure heat against his back, propelling him forward a good step or two. Then the white noise. 

        Nothing could be heard. All he saw was the trees around him blowing wildly from the blast. If he could, he would have heard your scream. The explosion. 

        Pure horror encompassed his face as his eardrums pounded. 

        No.

        NO GODDAMNIT!

        Without a second thought, Shigaraki turned back toward the building, shouldering his way through bushes and weeds until he found it. Or what was left of it. 

        Of course, the warehouse was unusable now. It had been ravaged by the League of Villains, looted of all its purpose. 

        Of course they would dispose of it.

        A ploom of ash and smoke floated up into the sky, almost drowning out the moon and stars. 

        The smell burned his nose. Charred metal and scorched earth, tainted with a hint of death.

        “No,” he whispered, so meekly he barely noticed he’d even said it aloud. 

        The hand on his face falls to the grass with a dull thump. 

        He couldn’t stand it. His knees wiggled underneath him until they finally gave out, allowing him to pathetically crumple to the floor. His lips quivered, his fingers twitched, his chest ached all at the sight. 

        Nothing. There was nothing there. Ash rained from the sky, floating into Shigaraki’s hair as he slumped forward, slamming his palms against the blackened dirt. All that remained of its existence, of your existence, was a perfect circle of burnt ground. 

        “No.”

        God, if he had looked closer into your eyes, he would have seen it. The despair. The utter hopelessness that came with knowing your fate. That came with knowing you were going to die, and nothing could stop it. 

        You had hid it with a smile, and sealed it with a kiss. 

        “No, YN.”

        He slammed his hands against the ground, screaming and shouting with every pound. 

        “NO! FUCK! NO! I WAS COMING BACK FOR YOU! I WAS GOING TO SAVE YOU!” 

        That’s not what you wanted. What you really wanted was for Shigaraki to not share your fate. You had been trapped by it, unable to move and only to embrace. The last thing you ever desired was to drag the love of your life down with you. 

        His body convulses with each sob as he curls in on himself, pressing his face into the dirt and letting out his strangled howls of grief. 

        “God- fuck, I was going to save you, YN,” he nuzzles his face against the ground, wishing it was the skin of your shoulder he loved to kiss so much. “I promise. I was going to come back for you.”

        Shigaraki hadn’t just lost you. 

        No; it was never that simple.

        Everything he ever had, the future that was in his grasp-- all gone up in a cloud of smoke. 

        The promise ring you wore.

        The smile on your face.

        The child growing in your stomach. 

        He had truly lost everything.

Katsuki x Fem!Reader

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: Thank you anon for the request, I hope it turned out the way you wanted! enjoy <3

Warnings: Angst to fluff, low self esteem, shy!reader, Mineta exists,fight during training (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word count: ~ 2500

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Bakugou Katsuki - Look at Me

===========================

He could feel it, the way his heart flutters, watching you heaving as you had your foot on Denki’s back with a tight hold on his arm. You’d completely immobilized him, rendering you the winner. It was your first combat training together, everyone was excited and energetic. You, however, were more nervous than anything. So when you had won in such a short amount of time, it surprised everyone. You felt your cheeks almost sizzle as heat rises in them, with everyone’s eyes on you, you thought you’d shrink to the size of an ant. You scurry off of Denki who looks at you with a wide smile, a little bit of dirt on his cheek.

“Wow Y/N! You took me by surprise there, you were amazing!” He sits up, the rest of the class coming to shower you with praise as well.

“Oh- well…I-“ You wave your hands in dismissal at the constant glory given to you, you felt like you’d pass out if you heard any more. As you’re backing away from your persisten classmates, not paying attention to what’s behind you, you felt yourself collide with something. Slowly turning to see, you’re met with Bakugou’s chest. Your whole body tenses and your head lifts to meet with his prideful gaze.

“Fight me.” He says with a self-assured smirk and dark, looming eyes. You jump and squeak, running behind Mr. Aizawa for protection. You felt like your heart was stuck in your throat as you hold onto your teacher for dear life. You knew how strong Bakugou was but the reason for your running wasn’t his menacing stare, but the way your brain kept repeating the same phase as you stood against his sturdy chest.

‘So cute!!’

The feeling of being so close to him, it was simply overwhelming! Your body had to get away before you melted before him.

“Bakugou! You’re scaring her!” Mina shouts angrily at the blonde boy, swinging her fist up and down in frustration at his aggressiveness.

“SHUT UP EXTRA!” He retaliates, stepping closer to his teacher which you’re hiding behind.

“Your training buddies have already been decided, Bakugou. Now let’s move on with the training!”

“Yes, sir!” The class shouts in unison at Aizawa’s demand. Dispersing to their places with their sparing buddies, Katsuki turns around with a “tch”. He couldn’t stop thinking about that stupid feeling in his chest, the one he felt watching you fight with your all. It was almost like when he watched All Might fight when he was younger, he’d feel such a pump of adrenaline from how awesome All Might was, but this was somehow different. He didn’t like it.

After your first interaction, the two of you generally kept a distance but you’d often find your eyes meeting, like both of you were always watching each other. You’d completely deny any time Mina or Jirou pointed out your constant stare, saying you just admired his power. They’d always give you a teasing look and giggle at your tinted face.

You had always been shy, ever since you were a kid. People have tried to help you overcome it but every time you were in front of unblinking eyes, words seemed to escape you. You would always strive to be better, but any progress was scarce and only noticed by yourself. Because of your shy personality, people felt the need to protect you, do things for you and make sure you’re okay. They always treated you like you inferior or weak, you even started to be believe that you were.

When you told people of your dream of being a hero they’d often discourage you, saying that heroes need to be brave and fearless, even your own parents tried convincing you to find another career path. It became another reason for you to fight for your dream even more, you want to prove to people, to yourself, that you don’t need protection. That you too, can save others.

So you trained, and trained and polished your quirks abilities, compensating your weaknesses. You did everything to be strong, but you still felt your brain go blank whenever someone spoke to you. All your training, meant nothing to those around you, they still thought you were weak. But when you got into UA, you felt hope fill your heart once more, they had recognized your strength, and you’d continue to show them that you were worth more than anyone bargained for.

When you first saw Bakugou, it was at the entrance exam. He had this fire in his eyes, his body never staggered, his voice never shook and his gaze never wavered. Your eyes met for a split second as he jumped over your head and exploded the robot villain you were going for. You felt your heart beat echoing through you, simply watching his unshakable movements made bravery surge through your body and for that split second his eyes met yours, you felt fearless.

To say you were relieved to see him in the classroom on the first day of school, is an understatement. While everyone coward in fear of him, you looked up to his careless attitude, he didn’t care about what others thought and you wish you were the same. The only reason for keeping your distance was to keep your heart from beating a hole in your chest and jumping out. You quickly understood you had feelings from him, but who are you to love him? You’re nowhere near as strong or brave, not to mention the other gorgeous people in class, they were all incredible but you…you were just you. To please yourself while not disturbing him, you watched him from afar and admired him from the sidelines, that was enough. You convinced yourself of that.

All the wonderful people in your class were so kind and understanding, so you made friends pretty quickly. You hung out with everyone, expect for Todoroki and Bakugou, though you would often speak with Midoriya. He’s also a bit shy, so the two of you had that in common and understood one another in that aspect. Bakugou noticed that. He noticed how the two of you grew close but he couldn’t care less.

It was at the sports festival, where you gave your all and showed the world that you were capable of being a hero, it was then he truly noticed you. After your first training session, he knew you were pretty powerful but the strength and diligence you presented during your 1-on-1 battle, it blew him away. His eyes widened as he watched you, grabbing his shirt and clutching the fabric tightly he tsked at the familiar feeling arising in his chest, it was there again. The dumb flutter of his heart, how annoying.

“Bakugou, is there anyone you like?” Denki asked teasingly. The boys of class 1a had gotten together for the sake of studying but it ended up becoming more of a chatter fest than anything.

“Tch, don’t be so stupid, dunce face.” He turned his head to look out the window of the common room of the dorms, your face creeping into the back of his mind.

“I’ve noticed you tend to watch Y/N quite a lot.” Kirishima adds, making some of the boys let out a long “ooooh”.

“She’s super pretty~!” Denki says in a dreamy way, thinking back on when you’d overpowered him during training.

“Yeah and she-“ before Mineta could utter another word, his face was engulfed by Bakugou’s hand, a small explosion going off and knocking the manlet to the ground.

“YOU DO LIKE HER!” Sero and Denki shout in unison making Bakugou’s face heat up with an unfamiliar stir in his stomach.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” He jumps at the two boys who only laugh harder. The only thing that spared their lives was Iida pulling Bakugou off of them.

After they’d all gone to bed, Katsuki couldn’t help but think about it. Had he gone and fallen for you? He covers his eyes with his forearm, sighing heavily at the fluttering in his chest. Whenever he’d lock eyes with you, you’d jump and turn away. Whenever he was close to you, you would practically run the opposite direction. Was he that scary? Did you hate him? His mind kept him up for hours, mercilessly berating him.

The next day he had dark circles under his eyes, not having gotten enough sleep because of you. He felt so sluggish and could barely focus, but when he heard he’d been paired up with you to spar, he suddenly felt a pulse of energy wash over him. Though he couldn’t tell if it was out of confidence or nervousness. Turning to get a glimpse of you, he found you already staring at him and like always, you quickly look away with a panicked look. Why?

You could look at Deku just fine, you always spoke to him, always laughing with that nerd so why not him? He felt his heart squeeze in a way that was rare for him, a painful ache that spread throughout his body.

You gulp, standing a few feet away from Katsuki whose palm already flare up with tiny explosions. Your brain focusing on how cool you think he is, but your eyes only manage to stare at his feet, not having the nerve to look him in his breathtaking eyes.

“Start!” Aizawa shouts. Bakugou wastes no time and runs right at you, jumping in the air as he winds his arm back and launching it forward with a powerful explosion erupting from his hand. You quickly dodge and counterattack with an elbow to his back, his eyes widen as he watches your movements. You had yet to look at him. Before you could activate your own quirk, he’s already charging at you again and your barely able to react but you manage to dodge him by jumping in the air and launching yourself off his back to get some distance.

“Damn it!” He shouts, hunched forwards as he stares at his hands, you watch him in shock as he trembles.

“Why won’t you look at me?!” Your shock having distracted you he’s able to land a blow, sending you flying back. Aizawa declares his victory but your mind only replays what he’d said. You struggle a bit as you stumble to your feet, Midoriya running to your side to make sure you’re okay. You give him a weak smile as he helps you get to recovery girl. The sight makes Katuki clench his fists and furrow his already tense eyebrows.

“Whatever…” He mumbles as he sits on the ground, thoughtlessly watching the rest of the class battle.

“They’re both oblivious!” Mina shouts in frustration, sitting on Kirishima’s bed as he’d gathered her, Denki, Jirou and Sero to talk about you and Bakugou. Sero gives a long sigh and closes his eyes while leaning on a wall.

“It’s true, they’re impossible to convince.” He agreed with Mina.

“Then we’ll just have to make them talk it out!” Everyone turns to look at Denki who seemed to have a plan in mind. Bakugou sighs as he makes his way to the front of Heights Alliance, looking at the text Eijiro had sent him.

‘Hey, meet me outside, I need to tell you something.’

He lets out an annoyed “tsk” as he puts his phone back in his pocket, mumbling to himself about how ‘this better be important’

But when he makes it outside, he doesn’t see Kirishima anywhere. Instead he sees the silhouette of your back under the dimly lit night sky. You’re looking up at the stars, like an idiot. Looking to the stars like they’re the most wondrous things to ever exists. You were always like that, seeing such rich beauty in small every day things, you always had something to smile about. But you never smiled at him. Bakugou’s pulled from his thoughts as he hears the entrance door lock, he shouts out an angry “OI!” As he runs to the door, banging on it, yelling at them to open it. The commotion startled you, making you turn around to see Katsuki recklessly banging and pulling on the door. You’d been tricked, hadn’t you? You knew it was odd for Mina to text you instead of barging into your room like she usually would. A panicked expression twits your features as a blush creeps onto your face, you’re alone with him now.

“B-Bakugou…” You say in a small voice, almost a whisper as you walk closer to him.

“WHAT?!” He screams at you, but your blush only grows as he looks at you.

“If you..shout like that, Mr. A-Aizawa will wake up…” Your gaze once more glued to the ground as you shyly stutter your statement.

“I-I think they’ll open up if we talk…”

“About what?!” You shrug your shoulders slightly. You knew what, but your words were stuck in your throat and you couldn’t cough them up. Not with the way he intently watches you, his eyes practically burning holes into you. The words he’d yelled during training returned to you, he’d completely misunderstood your attitude and you knew you had to do something about it.

“I’m sorry!” You say suddenly, nails digging into your palms as your hands formed tights fists. Your eyes stay lowered and your lips quivered, the beating of your heart ringing in your ears. Katsuki’s expression softens slightly, looking at you as you struggle to speak your mind, he lets go of the doors handle.

“I…I think you’re really cool…” You gulp, looking to the side as you lift your head a bit.

“And my heart…it gets excited when you’re close.” Your hand creeps to your chest, feeling your heart beating the way it does when you’re around him. Though it aches in the moment, knowing what is to come.

“I run…because I know, I’m not worthy of your attention-“ A lump in your throat begins to form, making it harder to breathe. “B-but…I like you!” You quiver as you fight the tears threatening to fall, your head hanging low again, not having the courage to look at him. Knowing how your heart will beg for his. As you sniffle, you feel a hand grabbing the sides of your face, making you look up. Within a second, your lips are met with his, in a rough and inexperienced kiss. You feel the tears forcing through and falling freely down your burning cheeks.

“You should look at me if you’re gonna confess like that, idiot.” He lets go of your face and shoves his hands in his pockets, looking away as the blush on your cheeks had spread to his. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes and his heart does that stupid thing again, because you were finally smiling at him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: I think this turned out really cute and I hope you think so too, thank you for reading! Requests are still open <3

♬⋆.˚ — happy birthday, hanta.

pairings : hanta s. x gn!reader

warnings : angst (i'm bad at making people cry tho), death, injuries, blood, swearing, usage of y/n

➤ masterlist!

The air was thick with dust, your blood’s metallic and salty smell panged through your throat as you coughed, spluttering blood forward. Your eyes drift slowly from side to side, ruins surrounding you. Slowly, the pain in your stomach made you glance there, examining the ugly stab wound with a piece of metal sticking out from it. You winced, whimpered as you shifted slowly to sit comfortably on the concrete surface, as your ears slowly picked up noise, grunts, shouts, and distant booms, there was a voice calling out your name.

“y/n!!” The voice, you knew all too well. That light, slightly shrill voice. The birthday boy, Hanta Sero.

Your head turns to his voice, spotting him running to you, his visor already broken, revealing half of his worried face. “Hanta..” You managed, weakly calling out to him as he crouched down to you.

“Oh God… crap, crap, crap... y/n…” He muttered, his hand hovering over the metal sticking out of your stomach, blood dripping from it ever so slowly. “T-tell me you’re fine, please.” His eyes darted to your face, your pale, dusty face before picking you up slowly in his arms, letting your legs hang low as he stood up slowly. His arms trembled, looking at you like your limbs were made of glass. Hanta cursed under his breath, repeating profanities as he saw just how badly injured you were. Despite his worried face, his pinched eyebrows, his eyes looking like he hasn’t slept in years, you smiled, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

“It’s your..birth…day..today”

His worry quickly turned to confusion before a small sheepish smile creeped up his lips. “Guess it is..” Yet the tone of panic never left his voice. You could feel him moving, walking as he looked around, scanning the area for help. Your weight would slightly bounce up and down as he picked up his pace, his breath still ragged and slightly labored. “Happy.. birthday… Hanta” You chuckled, instantly grimacing from the pain and gurgling from the blood lingering by your throat.

“Stop talking, idiot…” His voice strained, a slight tremble came as he felt the tears threatening to charge down his face.

Deep down, the fear was getting to you. That feeling of slowly slipping away from reality. The feeling that you might be dying. It had always been present, but right now, it just feels so much stronger. But you set that aside, let’s just hope a little bit for now. Perhaps… Miracles happen?

“What do you… want for your… birthday, Han…?” You asked pathetically, between gasps and coughs. He looks down to you, his steps not slowing down, still desperately trying to get a view of some sort, some form of help.

“I-... I don’t– I don’t know, damn it!” He panted, frantic. “Can you not, right now–?!” His voice cracked as he complained. “Where are the medics?!”

Silence filled the air, only his heavy steps and the gravel cracking under his boots. For a good few seconds, you could hear his heavy breaths, his winces of slight pain, and your own before he finally spoke up, “I..”

“I wanted to… take you on a date.” He confessed, looking down to you, smiling wearily. “...for this birthday.”

You could only smile back, sighing at his simple request as your hand went next to your head, squeezing his shoulder, giving an empty assurance. “...I’ll… try to… make that happen.”

Hanta could only nod, forcing a grin as he picked up his pace, shouting to the distance for someone, anyone to help. His arms tightened its grip around your knees, and drew close your head to his shoulder. He would sometimes stumble over his own feet, cursing slightly, and you would jolt from the sharp pain in your stomach.

But as his steps slowly faltered, so did your eyelids, as they grew heavier, and heavier. “Hanta…” You slurred, managing to only say some vowels clearly.

You looked up, your vision slowly growing into a blur, but his figure was still there. 

“Happy… birthday…”

He looked down upon you, panic filling his eyes, but of course you can’t see that. “I-I can’t… I can’t find anyone… shit, shit!!” His voice was slowly filled with panic, shaking you harshly as a desperate attempt to keep you awake. “Don’t you dare die on me! Don’t you fucking dare!”

What…? What did he say…? His voice only felt like an echo, ringing through your ears as you felt your body shake. You couldn’t even make out what you were looking at, is it the sky? The lights? The pain in your stomach had grown dull, and the world slowly fell dark. At least, for this moment, you had wished him his birthday… right?

｡𖦹°‧

“No, no, NO!” He shouted, running as he kept switching from looking at you to the road, shouting for anyone to come help, anyone to just please save you. “Plea–” His words were cut off by the lump in his throat as the road in front of him just came to a blur, and his cheeks felt warm as a tear rolled down through it, hanging by his jaw.

“Please, please, please… don’t do this, please…” 

Hanta’s quick steps halted, he gazed upon your limp body, shaking it. “Wake up, please… j-just… say… something, anything…” He bit down on his trembling lower lip, his brows frowned as he tried to figure out what to do. Slowly, he crouched down, eyeing your head that already hung back, your hands no longer gripping trying to hold back the pain, and your face no longer frowning, now resting as if you were sleeping… but your lips, your lips were so pale, and those tear tracks were still at the corners of your eyes. He gently placed down your body, desperately giving an attempt to call you out of death’s grip.

“Hey..” He sobbed, his voice strained, hoarse. “Wake up… please…”

His hand went to your face, patting your cheek repeatedly, almost slapping it. “Please, please… please…y/n don’t do this…” But even your face felt cold already, the vibrant color dancing around your smile no longer present, instead now replaced with a muted version of it, silenced by death.

His tears fell to your face, warm drops landing on a cold, soft surface as he sobbed. 

"...We're supposed to go on that date..."

Enveloping your body, he held your head close as he wailed, screaming his sobs to the ground. 

Happy birthday, Hanta.

dworkism | do not repost!

a/n : yaayy first post hehehe I hope this is good enough :P

got the inspo from this btw

➤ masterlist!

Until The End

Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader

Warning: Angst, characrer death, dark themes talked about, hurt, fluff *more at the end*,

Summary: How do you move on when your childhood love has left you behind, with your one year old child too.

How long had it been? A day? A week? Time had seemed to slip by at different speeds ever since that night.

It seemed like any other day where you kissed Katsuki goodbye on his way out the door, your son Katsu giggling as he waved bye-bye to his father, "Bye-bye!" He cheered, Katsuki smirking and placing a kiss on his sons forehead, "Look after your Mama for me little man, Papa will be back tonight," you could only laugh and wish him luck and to be safe out on patrol, "I will, don't worry, I'll be back tonight and we can talk about how we're gonna take the little bud to our special place, that sound good, huh Blossom?" You beamed and nodded, leaning up for one last kiss goodbye. Katsuki turned and walked down the stairs to his car, though he couldn't help but turn and look at you two one last time, an actual smiling rising to his face. He waved once more before getting in and driving away in his car, honking a final goodbye like he did every morning.

Yet things would never be like every morning again.

Katsuki normally came home around 5PM, so you knew somthing was wrong when it had reached 7PM and you hadn't received a phone call, even a text letting you know he was running late or had stopped somewhere on the way home. Of course, God hears prayers and your phone began to ring as you picked it up, seeing Kirishimas contact number. "Hey Kiri! Is everything okay?""(Y-Y/n)" he choked out, this causing you to stand alert and question him again, "what's wrong? What happened?" Kirishimas voice shook as he tried to find the courage and strength to continue, "B-bakubro..h-hes in very rough shape, they don't know if he's gonna..gonna.." he couldn't finish the sentence, his voice breaking again as he found it hard to continue without sobbing. You could only hear your ears ring as the phone slipped out of your hand and landed with a BANG on the tiled floor. Scrambling to pick up the phone it all seemed to happen in a flash and you demanded to know where he was as you grabbed Katsu and your shoes, running out the door.

You could barely remember getting to the hospital. Barely remembering the train ride there as you held Katsu close to you. A silent prayer for your husband to be okay. You could barely remember begging to see your husband, needing to see him. Katsu crying from the over stimulation of the noise and action going on around him and you doing the same as the Drs informed you they did all they could.

"His injuries were too severe, I'm so sorry,"

Silence and ringing flooded your ears as you dropped to the floor, a pain taking over your chest as your held Katsu to you. A nurse kneeling beside you to pat your back wasn't even acknowledged as you screamed for Katsuki. Fellow Pro Heros stood off to the side, classmates and friends, all with tears of their own.

Katsuki had been the one to run back into a Villain attack to save a child. A child a little older than Katsu, whose Mother had been separated from her in the first Villain attack that blew up a street corner. Katsuki had been a true Hero to the end. Risking his life for others, and now his life had come to an end.

Kirishima and Midoriya came over to console you, yet they knew nothing they said could help the pain and devastation you felt inside. Your husband, your childhood sweet heart was gone. Ripped from you and your child forever. Tears flowed down your face from your red rimmed (E/c) eyes as you bent over, gagging and sobbing, your body literally sick and hurt from the news.

You don't remeber leaving, you don't remember getting home to meet Mitsuki and Masaru there. You don't remeber the four of you embracing as you shed tears together. The only thing you could remember was how empty your heart seemed from that point on.

~~

"Papa"

It seemed to be Katsu's new favorite word, before he never really seemed to talk but ever since Katsuki, he'd been growing more and more. His words expanding more each day but yet he still chose 'Papa' and would always seem to stare at the pictures of him on the wall. The pictures you couldn't bare to look at, yet you couldn't find it in you to take down.

You stared at your bundle of joy who sat on his baby blanket in the living room, yourself seated on the couch. It was an early Saturday morning, almost two months after Katsuki had been ripped from your lives. His presence seemed to slowly leave the house too, though it was also because you couldn't being yourself to remember him much, the pain so crushing that you'd start crying all over again. Grieving was painful and sometimes you just didn't acknowledge it, holding onto the hope that Katsuki would somehow walk through the door.

Observing your child, sorrow filled your heart as you clenched your chest tightly with your fist. His hair was the same spiky blonde of his father's, his eyes the sharp vermillion, only they seemed more round and gentle like yours. At least. That's what Katsuki would say and he would boast on how his son was a looker but bad your charms. Those love and warmth filled days seemed so far in the past, but had it really only been a few months ago?

A knock broke you out of your depressive thoughts as you sighed, standing up from the couch and brushing your hands through your messed up (H/c) locks to seem more presentable. Opening the door your came face to face with your Mother-In-Law who smiled and in her hands she held a medium sized box. "Hi Honey, how're you today?" Mizuki had made it her mission to come around every other day to check on you. Even though she'd lost a son, she knew this was hard on you as well. Losing a best friend, a lover, a husband and the father to your child.

You forced a smile and invited her in, "I'm doing fine,"you couldn't fool her, but she hoped what she'd brought you would help the process of healing and acceptance. "I found some old things, I thought you'd wanna see,"

Having taken a seat on your couch, Katsu yelled in excitement, standing up on wobbly legs to toddle over to his Grandma who scooped him up and hugged him, and she couldn't help but imagine she was hugging her Katsuki again.

Opening the box, you were taken back as you stared at old photographs. Ones taken of you and Katsuki, even your old friends. Tears pricked your eyes as you reached out a shaky hand and picked one up. It was a quick snapshot of you and Katsuki, both dressed in your U.A uniforms on the first day of school.

"Oh look how precious you are! Come on Katsuki smile for once dammit!" Mizuki scolded, wanting him to at least pretend to be happy. You laughed at his expression as he yelled to his mother in annoyance, "Damn Hag! We're gonna be late of you don't knock your shit off!" Taking a hold of his arm, you wrapped yours around him and smiled to Mizuki, who took a picture as Katsukis face turned bright red and he looked elsewhere but the camera, embarrassed you'd been so close. Looking up at him with your big, (e/c) eyes, you squeezed his arm and he looked to you, the pink flush still apparent on his face. "Yeah yeah, whatever Blossom," he grumbled, but moved his arm to put it around your shoulders as his mom took another picture, this one of you both actually looking happily at eachother.

You put your hand up to your mouth to quiet your sobs, but Mizuki just smiled and rested a hand ontop of yours that held the picture shakingly. "Its hard to forget someone who left so many memories, but he'd want you to embrace what you had together, what you still have together," Mizuki brought you in for a hug as you cried, Katsu not knowing what was going on, yet he sensed you needed comfort so he climbed into your lap, wrapping his arms around you and squeezed, your arms coming around him as you hugged him back.

~

When Mizuki had gone, you sat back down at the table where the photographs were and laying them out in front of you and Katsu, you could only smile in as you riminisced how much love you and Katsuki had shared in the time you had together.

"Oi! Let's go dammit, I ain't got all fucking day Blossom," Katsuki called out to you as he entered your classroom. Your classmates however could only look in shock as you bounced from your seat, rushing over to him as he turned and began to walk out the door. "We're having lunch outside, I don't feel like being around all the stupid extras from class," "Aww but isn't Midoriya in your class? Maybe we should invite him!" "NO WAY IN HELL! THAT DAMN DEKU CAN DROWN IN HIS OWN PISS FOR ALL I CARE AND DONT TALK ABOUT HIM," It always amused you how easy it was to get him riled up, his hands popping with small explosions as he rounded on you, though you knew he'd never hurt you. Giggling you took a picture of him in his angry mode as you held up a peace sign, his expression blowing up more once he realized what you were doing. Of course, he'd never admit that seeing you happy made him happy. Not now at least.

"Your Papa always treated me so nice, I hope you'll treat your someone the same way," you softened your expression to Katsu who looked at the picture with large eyes full of wonder, "Papa," he mumbled, reaching a hand out to the picture as if he could really feel his Father.

This made your lips quiver with another round of tears, emotion flooding to you like when you'd first told Katsuki about Katsu.

You sat nervously in your house, Katsuki was due home anytime now. You guys had only been married a few months, only two years out of high school as you wanted some time before marriage to focus on your careers a little more. Yet by 20 and 21 years old Katsuki couldn't take it anymore and proposed, confessing on how he'd wanted to do this since the last year of high school and how he wanted to grow old with you, like how you'd been growing together since childhood.

Yet here you stood, just having turned 21 and pregnant, and Katsuki never really spoke about children, you two seemed to have been content with eachother that who knows what a baby could bring into the mix. "Hey I'm home," his voice called out as you froze, it was now or never. Turning to him, he could tell right away somthing was wrong, "What's-" "IM PREGNANT" You screeched at him, face bright red as he just stared at you, vermillion eyes shot wide and his mouth dropped open. His bag that was slung around his shoulder also fell to the floor, it's THUD being the only noise heard for a good minute. Of course Katsuki broke out of it with a large grin, whooping as he dashed over to you and picked you up. Spinning around he screaming in happiness, "HELL YEAH! IM GONNA FUCKING BE A DAD!" You cheered too as he set you down, tears forming in his eyes as he pressed his hand to your stomach, his forehead resting against your own as you smiled to each other. "Thank you," was all he said before kissing you.

You ran your fingers through Katsu's hair, now feeling a blazing warmth fill you as you looked back on all the amazing memories with him. An idea struck you though which made you smile softly, picking up your small budding boy and carrying him upstairs. There was something you wanted to share with Katsu, and tomorrow would be the day to do it.

~

Dawning a light pink sundress that happened to be one of Katsuki'a favorites on you, you dressed Katsu in a matching pink shirt and a pair of tan shorts. Heading out of the house, you took a quick train ride over to a park. The warm Spring day enveloping you as you walked with Katsu down the sidewalk, his small eyes taking in everything he could.

Settling down on an old wooden bench, the white paint faded from the few years of weather damage, you turned toward Katsu and motioned to the area. "This is where Mama met Papa," of course him being 1 and a half he didn't quite understand, but yet he looked at the flowers that surrounded you, noticing a particular one, "Mama" and reached out the special orange flower that had caught his eye, when a small, yellowish butterfly landed on it.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you took notice of the small creature. Butterflies had always been your favorite, as your quirk revolved around plants and flowers, Butterflies naturally came as a favorite for their beautiful wings.

Katsuki when learning this had said he'd wanna be a Butterfly just so he could be around your flowers all day, and be with you always. A look of fondness crossed your face as you reached out to the butterfly, it's wings beating twice as it flew onto your finger and you brought it slowly over to Katsu who grinned, his cheeks lighting up pink as he squealed, "Papa!," and you could only nod and close your eyes for a moment as you imagined Katsuki, relishing in the moments you'd had together.

"Hey, what's your problem?" A boyish voice had broken through your quiet sobs, you turning toward the voice to see a young boy with spiky blonde hair and red eyes staring at you confused, though his cheeks flushed a light pink when your glossy (e/c) eyes met his. "I-I was just growing m-my flowers when some m-mean b-boys ruined them," you choked out, motioning to the ruined orange flowers that sat beside you, their petals all torn and missing, the stems mangled from behind yanked apart. Katsuki wasn't sure how to handle this, usually if someone was crying he'd just ignore them or tell them to suck it up. Yet with you he actually wanted to make you feel better, he just wasn't sure on how to go about that in this moment.

Katsuki looked around and found an orange flower, seemingly matching the ones you had next to you, causing him to he pick a few and brought it over to you, where you still sat sniffling a little. He held his hand out and presented them to you, his cheeks a darker red when your eyes widened in surprise before a smile took over your chubby face, "Cosmos? What are these for?"You questioned, taking them from his hands and as your fingers brushed against eachother he shivered and turned away with a pout, "I just want you to stop crying, you look ugly when you cry," he winced when he realized what he did and had said, but he looked back in surprise when you giggled, standing up to face him properly, "My name is (L/n) (Y/n), do you wanna be friends?" You held your hand out to him, and he could only smirk and nod, introducing himself, "The name is Bakugou Katsuki, I'm gonna be the Number 1 Hero one day," you laughed, taking his hand and running off to the playground, your moms taking a quick picture of the interaction from afar.

You felt a sense of relief flood through you, your arm around Katsu as he laughed watching the Butterfly leave, some more joining it in the sky. You kissed his head and looked up to the setting sun, the wind caressing both of you under the orangeish pink sky. "We'll be okay," you mumbled, feeling a lingering touch on your head.

"Yeah, we'll be okay,"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Heeyy. So was running through prompts online. Saw this one. Thought hmmm. Perfect. Let me know what yall think!

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