[ ♡ ] Bully

how they would hold you when kissing you !

♤ a/n: thought i should throw in something short and sweet so here we are. cliché? probably, but oh well, sorry ab that - written with an average height in mind (5'4"-5'9"/163-176.5 cm)

and thank you @bontens-sweetheart for helping me with this :3 oh and @sunkeiji even though i ended up scrapping the handpole idea falskdjfaowerjslfj

hands cupping your face and lifting your head so you could look at him, he smiles when your eyelids flutter shut and lips part ever so slightly. he leans in close enough to feel your breath tickle his nose before his lips softly brush against yours. again and again and again, because he wants each kiss to tell you how much he loves you.

♤ akaashi, ushijima, kita, kageyama, oikawa, osamu, daichi

pulling him in by the collar of his shirt, you reach up and place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "i think you missed," he says with a smirk and puts a hand on your hip before closing in to kiss you on the lips, the other hand sliding up your back and to your neck to support your head as he makes it last even longer, leaving you absolutely breathless.

♤ atsumu, matsukawa, kuroo, konoha, futakuchi, hirugami, semi

arms wrapped casually around your waist, he holds you to his chest, turning his head occasionally to press a kiss to your forehead before resting his head on yours again. but it's when he feels you squirm a little in his arms that he moves a hand to your chin, using his finger to tilt your head up to kiss you, long and slow, on the lips. "is this what you wanted?" he asks, whispering in your ear when he finally pulls away.

♤ suna, tendou, kenma, bokuto, tsukishima, iwaizumi, sakusa

Denki, THE FLOOR IS “HATING (Y/n)” !!!

Mina, jumps on couch:

Jirou, balancing on a chair:

Sero, Spider-Man’s onto the wall:

Kirishima, Jumps onto the table:

Bakugou, hanging off of the chandelier:

(Y/n), face plants to the ground:

Everyone, simultaneously: (Y/N), NO!!!

THE NIGHT WE MET — IZUKU MIDORIYA

★ ˛˚ . a little mermaid themes, after nearly drowning and being saved by… something, you’re met face to face with your home towns legends, sending your relaxed summer break taking care of your uncle spiraling.

★ pairing: mermaid!deku x marine science student!gn!reader

★ word count: 8.2k

★ content: fluff, modern fantasy?? au, reader is in college/studying marine biology (only briefly mentioned), bestie bkg, reader is from a fishing village, swearing, mild mention of injuries, semi-graphic drowning, mentions of hospitals, eating/food mentions, fruit as a love language.

i realized when writing some of the bestie bakugou parts that i was… showing my bias just a bit :’) so to remedy it i wrote myself in as his off screen partner :) this is the first part of right below the surface mermaid series !!

YOU WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO COME BACK HERE. You always hated this place — it was small and even when you were a child, it was dying — and you quickly find nothing at all has changed. Everything's standing still — stagnant. You hate it. You feared getting stuck, it's why you clawed so hard to get away, being just as stagnant as the rest. You'd promised yourself. You told yourself you'd graduate, get into a good college, and never look back.

But you've always been bad at keeping your promises. And when your uncle broke his leg falling off his fishing boat, forcing him to be house ridden and work less, you couldn't say no.

And so here you are, nestled in overheated sand and letting the same water you spent your whole life resenting lap at the soles of your feet. That fear, the creeping feeling of stagnation—of never being better—haunted you. The idea of standing still terrified you, watching the world grow while you were stuck in your tiny, unchanging hometown.

Though, even then, you can't help but melt in the familiarity.

"You're gonna have a damn heatstroke if you spend the whole day holed up on the rocks."

“Awww, it’s almost like you care about me,” you have to squint up at him, hand a poor shield from the sun. Bakugou scoffs, trapping the notebook he was holding against the back of your head.

“You fuckin’ wish. Just don’t wanna have to haul your ass to the doctor when you pass out in the sand. And I need you to help me run some errands.”

You groan, flopping boneless against the sand, “why me?” He doesn’t entertain the whine, pulling you up by your wrists. “Can’t you get one of your idiot friends to help you?”

“I am getting one of my ‘idiot friends’ to help me- you, dumbass.” You try your best to act as dead weight behind him, dragging your feet through the sand, “and they're errands for your uncle so you're lucky I'm doing them at all. Should make you run the boat while he’s holed up.” 

“You know he hates it as much as you do, Katsuki. He’s been driving me crazy trying to take care of himself.” He’d always been that way. Stubborn. Your mother used to tell you that you reminded her of him. It didn’t feel like a compliment. 

Katsuki looks back at you, fingers loosening around your wrist, like he knows what you're thinking. “Trust me, I know how stubborn that bastard can be,” his arm is hooked around your neck to drag you into step next to him, “we’re buttin’ heads constantly.”

You flail a bit in surprise before teeth sink into the juncture of his arm and he lets you go with an affronted gasp, “you fuckin’ gremlin.” Bakugou rubs at the indents roughly, “thought the city was supposed to civilize ya.”

The walk into town is longer than you remember, but maybe you just forgot how expansive the town really was. Katsuki was right, it’s uncomfortably hot, air thick and sticky — it feels like every breath takes effort. It gets worse the closer to town you get, the smell of iron and gasoline pressing down on you. The dock is empty, most boats already out for the day, but the smell lingers.  

Main street is busy, as busy as the town can get, and you can already hear the cheesy nautical music being played in the little tourist shops. You always found it funny just how many there were. Little brightly coloured shops filled with novelty plates and mermaid-themed mugs and shirts. When you were little you’d always buy something absurd for your uncle, a windchime carved like a giant crab or a snowglobe whose red glitter looked morbidly like blood. He always kept them.

There’s only one grocer on the island, boxed in by countless fishing supply stores and boat shop repairs. It’s always been so overcrowded you were tempted to start up a rival just so you could get your strawberries without shoulder checking a grandmother. 

“Gotta stop by the boat shop before we head back,” Katsuki says, nudging you with an elbow, “yer uncle’s needs a new cleat.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” 

He rolls his eyes, pushing the door to the grocery open for you. It’s oddly empty, with no one but the distant sounds of shuffling in the back and a very sunburnt teen closely reading the back of a cereal box.

The shops are rather unchanged, sole for a couple of aisles of sugary cereals and chips, you find it easy to navigate the crates of fruits, “he give you a list?”

“Nah- here for pickup.” Katsuki’s moved to the front, flicking the little bell on the counter, “always buys the same shit anyways.”

The shopkeep, a grinning mess of familiar dark hair, pokes himself from the back. Kirishima’s stayed the same, too, you think. The same horrible cut-off novelty Hawaiian shirt he wore during summer breaks and strong arms, hoisting the heavy crate of plums easily.

“Hey!” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face when you step up beside Bakugou. He gasps audibly, quickly moving around the counter to yank you into a hug, “I forgot you were supposed to be back today!” 

He pulls away, still gripping your forearms, to do a once over. 

“Kiri, it’s nice to see you again.” And it is.

“I’ll say- feels like you’ve been gone a decade.” A very apparent thought crosses his face, an audible little oh escaping him as he grips you tighter, “you should come to the bonfire with us tomorrow morning!”

You huff a laugh at the enthusiasm, “us?”

“Yeah! Mina, Denki, and hopefully Bakugou planned on going out to look for shells and teeth! It’s supposed to storm tonight, perfect weather!"

It’s sweet that they’ve kept up with that — combing the beach in a futile effort to find whole shark teeth or the decorative shells tourists seem to always leave with. You used to do it for the grocery store, back when Mina’s grandma owned it, and she’d string up the little shells and pieces of sea glass found into windchimes or bracelets. 

Katsuki lets out an exaggerated groan, head tossed back, “Kirishima. The groceries?”

“Oh! Right.” Kiri ducks behind the counter and rummages around before remerging with two packed paper bags of meats and vegetables. You can see the tops of a celery stalk leaned against the little homemade cookies your uncle likes so much. When Katsuki reaches for the handles Kirishima pulls them back, “you are coming, too, right?”

“I really don’t have the patience for this right now,” his snarl doesn’t seem to phase Kiri, though, who continues to slide the bags out of his reach.

“Katsuki!” He whines, lip pulling into an exaggerated pout, “please come?” Kirishima looks pointedly at you, his little way of making you feel included, and grins, “you can come too! It’ll be like back in the day!” 

He groans, scrubbing at his face roughly, “I don’t know, ‘t’s date night, y’know.” You huff a quiet little laugh, it’s nice to know Katsuki hasn’t learned how to lie since you’ve been gone.

“Date night is on Wednesdays, which means you’re free! So you’ll come, right?” Kirishima leans onto the counter, resting his chin in hand, “unless you want me to ask them? I’m sure she can give me a straight answer.”

“No- don’t! Don’t fuckin’ threaten me with that. Fine, I’ll go. But I’m home by 12.” Kirishima beams, sliding over the prior hostage groceries before turning back to you.

It’s cute how well Kirishima’s threat worked on him. But the closeness sends a little pang of hurt through you. They know each other. Now that you’re back, faced with the lives that moved on without you, you regret never settling. Even if it was just a little: trying to date or befriending more than the people you’d known since birth. Anything but burying yourself in jobs and school and breaking up with the only boyfriend you’d had so you could finally get out. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so… alien in your hometown.

“You too, right?” You’re startled by the attention, meeting Kirishima’s earnest eyes. “You’ll come?”

“Of course!” It’d be a lie to say you didn’t want the company. Or that you’d missed them after you’d left. “You know I love shore hunting.”

“Great!” He beams, revealing a third bag of groceries for you to carry, “Bakugou can give you a ride and everything! Mina will be thrilled to see you again — Denki, too.”

He flashes one last smile before disappearing back behind the shop's little door, avoiding Katsuki’s pointed hey! and leaving you to follow a fuming Bakugou to the boat shop across the street.

Maybe it’d be nice to see everyone again .

“You’re a lot of fuckin’ help, y’know,” Katsuki grunts from the hull, struggling to haul the metal cage over the side of the boat. It hits the water a moment later, sinking below the choppy waves. “I’m so glad I brought you along.”

You snort, head lolling against your shoulder so you can grin at him, “awww, you knew what you were getting into. You’re the one who said it was ‘my damn uncle’s boat’ and I needed to ‘get off my ass’,” his eyes narrow at the impersonation. “Even though, technically, I came to sit on my ass and watch my uncle’s leg heal. Not to run his crab traps.”

It was his job, technically. You'd started going with him to check the traps after your uncle got better at using his crutches. You hated to admit that it was nice to be doing something other than reading old boat manuals and eating the shrimp chips your uncle bought in bulk.

He grumbles, tossing the ropes back to the boat’s deck before making his way to the helm. You had five more traps to set before the storm moved in, stirrs up the smell of the bait and the water stays warm. 

But the skies are darker than they should be. The rain wasn’t supposed to start until noon, and the wind wasn’t supposed to pick up until hours later. You had time, but you still found yourself worrying.

“Are you sure we should be out here? Why can’t the traps wait until after the storm,” you grumble, tucking your hands underneath your arms. Katsuki glares at you from where he’s steering and you can hear your uncle’s rant pooling on his tongue.

“Stop fuckin’ complain’,” he barks, tossing another rope onto the hull, “not even makin’ you do shit and you still find something to complain about.”

You huff, sitting up to glance over the edge of the boat. The water’s dark and choppy, waves slapping against the metal and hissing. Bakugou drops another cage, sending more waves against the boat's side.

The cage sinks slowly, pushing against the current as it disappears into the dark. There’s another splash in front of you, louder than the cage, and you jerk upright. Katsuki shouldn’t have dropped another trap already and it sounded too far away. 

You pull yourself up, leaning against the rails as you search the churning waves. There’s nothing, any ripple from the movement hidden in the vicious waves caused by the storm. 

It’s raining now, your boots squeaking against the metal floor as you chase the noise. There’s a flash of color—green, the green you’d seen on the beach—and you lean to see more. 

“What’re you doin’ dumbass? Get away from the sides!” Katsuki drops the rope he was holding, gripping the railing, “gonna get yourself swept over.”

You ignore him, heart beating out of your chest as you see another flash of fins, “did you-” lightning cracks over you, and you feel the boat start to tip with the waves. It happens so quick, a wave beats against the side and spills over. Your feet, already slipping on the slick metal, are swept out from under you. 

You’re too shocked to react, hands clawing at the railing but too slick to get traction as the waves drag you back. The water’s cold, shocking a gasp out as you're pushed under—even though you tell yourself you shouldn’t- that you know how to handle this. 

But you don’t. You’ve never drowned and the tightness in your lungs feels ready to burst, your head hits the ground again and your ears begin to ring. You can feel yourself being pushed further to sea by the currents, further away from the boat. 

Something moves above you, quick and shadowed and for a moment you think you’ve seen a shark, of all times, but it looks too big. Your vision darkens, blurred green as you feel your hands, too cold, press into your sides, something rough wrap around a leg. Eyes find yours, more green swimming against pale color and the hands start to yank, pulling you up through the water. 

You want to see more, to figure out what has you — who saved you, but your vision finally darks, ringing worsening.

You're thirsty when you wake up.

They must have the window open, the saltiness of the air sheening your skin. The room’s silent when you wake up, deathly quiet. As if everyone had established an understood quiet game once you’d been situated into a bed. Your uncle is next to you, propped awkwardly in a chair and gripping at your hand.

Katsuki is behind him, leaned against the wall holding a box with a bow, one that looks suspiciously unlike anything he’d do. He’s the first to notice, straightening in his seat and nudging Kirisihma awake, with much more force than necessary — nearly pushing him from his chair, before moving to the bedside.

“You’re awake,” your uncle sounds out of breath, like he’d spent the entire morning pacing the floor. You wouldn’t have been surprised. Normally, you’d laugh at the observation — obvious — but your throat still aches and breathing hurts.

His palm finds your back when you sit up, coughs raking your lungs. It’s comforting, even if it does little to help, and you find yourself curling in on yourself. “You’re okay, everyone’s okay.”  

Your hands fist into the back of his sweater, soft and loosely knitted. The iv aches at the movement and you finally look down at yourself. The skin of your arms seems greyer, as if the water had sucked the very warmth from you, and dry. 

You recognize the hospital, you think, from the view. It’s a tiny little clinic downtown which can house a max ten patients at once. The room itself doesn’t feel much like a clinic, walls painted a warm green and gauzy curtains blowing over the opened window. Even the bedding, though spread over your usual hospital bed, comprises soft sheets topped with a worn patchwork quilt. It feels like you’ve fallen asleep on a friend's couch. 

“Uh, I brought you flowers,” Kirishima was standing, now, though he looked incredibly out of place. He was wearing another cut off Hawaiian shirt, this time covered in pink and purple turtles, cradling a wilting bouquet of asters like a newborn. “It’s, uh,” he’s shuffling slightly as he stares down at the blooms, “they’re not really in season.”

You laugh a little, despite yourself, which he seems to take great pride in. Your uncle takes the bouquet from him and lets you dunk them in the little pitcher by your bed. “Thank you, Kiri. I love them.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

The little bit of laughter dies with the words. It’s as if something cold has slipped down your spine — you almost died. It’s a grim thought and your shoulders tighten at the memory.

You could’ve died.

Katsuki hasn’t looked at you yet, eyes locked on the little wrapped box in his hands. He rubs a thumb over the corner once more before finally handing it to you, “it’s, uh, brownies. I didn’t make ‘em but they’re still pretty good, I guess.”

That’s high praise, you think and if it didn’t hurt so much you’d laugh. “Tell them thank you, then.” He nods slightly, still picking at the beds of his nail. And you know what he’s thinking.

“Can I — uh, why don’t you and Kiri get me a new thing of water?” Both of them understand, you think, glancing between you and Katsuki, “since I’ve used mine as a vase.”

Katsuki doesn’t look at you until they’re gone, eyes red-rimmed and glossy, “real subtle, dumbass.” 

“I wasn’t trying to be subtle.”

It’s quiet. Not that you expected him to talk first, but you’re still a little annoyed that he’s making you strain your throat this much, “Katsuki — ”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” He’s staring at the floor again, voice so quiet you’re almost sure you missed it, “why? It’s not your fault.”

Bakugou stands suddenly, pushing himself from the rickety lawn chair, and you can see his jaw clench. “I was the one who made you come with me. I could have done it alone — I could have set those damn traps without you. But I made you come.”

“You didn’t make me do anything, Katsuki. And if I hadn’t gone, it could’ve been you that got swept off and then what? Who would’ve been able to get you out?” That was half the reason you’d gone to begin with. You never liked when your uncle went out by himself, let alone a less experienced sailor. “The storm came in quicker than it was supposed to, the sea got rougher than we expected. It’s not your fault, Katsuki, you can’t control the weather.”

He huffs, lifting a hand to scrub through his hair, and you realize you’ve won. 

“Now, I do expect ice cream. And I don’t expect to pay for it.”

Katsuki barks a little laugh, “fine. But ya gotta promise not to try and drown yourself anymore.”

You hate that you need looking after, now. It’s minimal, really, considering you nearly died. But you were supposed to be looking after your uncle. Supposed to be making his recovery easier, not sitting on his couch with an icepack tucked against your ribs and earning sympathetic glances whenever he hobbled by the living room.

You hated it. You understood your resemblance, now. 

Even though you’ve been cleared, now, your head still aches and your lungs sting with every intake of breath. It’s miserable, feeling so helpless. 

The walk to the beach is easy, second nature by now, and you let your feet drag through the sand. The little rock path to the cove isn’t covered, letting the full force of the sun beat down on your neck and you can feel yourself already sweating. The glossy cover of the hardback book you brought along sticks to the underside of your arm and the oranges you’d picked up the week before were already sweating.

Summer hasn’t quite taken over the town, yet. Still too early to be peak tourist season but you can’t help thinking the beach does look a little picturesque — like something you’d see on a cheap motel postcard. 

Finding a tree nestled between the rocks, you settle into the plushness of towels and cool sand. The ocean’s slow today, waves lapping against the rocks and pulling at the shore.

This is what your summer break was supposed to be — easy, slow, boring. You were supposed to be able to lounge on the warm sand you hate, read your novel, one about runaway lovers, and peel your oversized oranges Kiri’d made you take.

It’s odd to hear the ocean be natural background noise. You’d been so used to hearing it over a speaker, distorted, then the easy hiss of waves crashing melts comfortably against your skin. 

The sound nearly lulls you to sleep, head lolling to rest against the tree's smooth trunk, until you hear a splash — heavy and loud and too close.

You sit up, a book falling from your lap, and see a flash of green — a fish? But it sounded large, larger than anything should be so close to the rocks. Pompano’s are green, but those are deepwater game fish and they weren’t that big.

You’re beginning to wish you’d stayed on the mainland and hadn’t ventured out into the cove. You eye the place where the shores connect, now totally submerged by the tide. Dumb.

“Maybe it’s friendly,” you don’t sound convinced, “most fish are skittish, anyways.” 

And so you let yourself relax, settling back against the sand. You can’t keep fearing the ocean, you’ve built your whole future around the sea and you can’t let it be ripped away now. 

You're not sure why the noise — a soft little blurb, like a buoy had surfaced quietly, made you look up but it did. At first you see only seaweed — dark green and soft floating amongst the waves — but then you recognize bright eyes and damp curls, clinging to sun-kissed cheeks and nose bridge. 

“Hey,” the word comes out fumbled, unsure and a little dumb. You don’t remember anyone being out here or seeing a pile of someone’s belongings on your walk over. So… where did he come from? “I -”

Whatever you were planning on saying frizzles up and dies in your throat when you see it, a tail — at least five feet, maybe more, long curls over the water. It’s the same green you’d seen, paler than his hair but richer than any fish you’d ever seen. The fins, spindly stalks ending in a wide lobe, remind you of a glauert's seadragon. 

You scuttle back a step when he moves further out of the water, pulling up onto one of the exposed rocks. “I’m glad you’re okay,” his voice is softer than you’d expected and he looks incredibly non-threatening with his chin perched on his own folded arms, “I was worried you’d gotten too deep.” 

“So it was you, then.” His head tilts, and you clarify, “in the water, that pulled me up.”

His tail whips through the water, like he’s pleased, “of course! I was worried, your boat was the only one out on the water.”

You move a little closer, butt-shuffling until the water starts to lap at your skin again. His eyes follow you, zeroing in on everywhere the waves hit before finding your face again. He seems like he’s looking for something, checking for a sign of… something hidden in your expression. 

“So… you’re… a mermaid?” 

He smiles, then, all sunny and dimpled and cheeks rounding up, “yeah! But Izuku’s my name, please.” 

It’s pretty, you think. Suits him. He’s still looking at you, this time brows raised expectantly. You’re about to question it when it hits you, a soft little oh before giving him your own name. 

He smiles again, warmth spreading over the apples of his cheeks, and he tests the name on his tongue. The sound tightens your chest and spreads warmth to the very tips of your fingers. You like it.

His — Izuku’s — brows pinch as he spots something behind you. Looking over your shoulder you notice it. The unpeeled oranges. 

“Oh, are you hungry?”

“Hm, oh! No, I just… I’ve never seen anything that looked like that before,” he lifts himself off his arms and you notice his hands for the first time, dark and short claws curling into the rock. “What’s it taste like?”

You turn, dragging the little knapsack to you and carefully peeling the fruit. Izuku watches you the entire time, wide green eyes rapt. Like he’s never seen something so interesting.

“Here!” Izuku takes the slice delicately with his knuckles, claws tucked into his palm and his nose scrunches cutely.

“It’s… squishy.”

“It’s supposed to be, it’s fruit — most of it’s squishy.” 

When he finally eats it, after some overly thorough sniffing, his eyebrows pinch together. It’s almost humorous how you can see the flurry of emotions which overtake him — disgust, confusion, then interest — before his face softens back out, “I… I like it. I think.”

You snort, which makes his attention snap back to you and his smile returns tenfold. “It’s spicy but like… in a sweet way.” A laugh breaks free before you can stop it. Sour would be better, you think, but you also suppose you don’t know what anything in the ocean tastes like. 

You gasp. He does.

“Wait! You’re a mermaid, right?”

“Uh, yes- yeah, I am.”

It’s like it only just hit you, that you’re only just able to connect the dots, “That’s! Oh my god, what’s it like? The ocean?” You barely give Izuku the time to breathe, “what do you eat? Is there… is there a government? Do you migrate — oh, oh, how deep can you swim?”

Izuku looks startled, completely lifted off his arms and staring at you with parted lips, “I… it’s warm and incredibly full of life.” You scoot towards him, nodding quickly, “I usually eat fish, stuff that’s already in the ocean. I like crab a lot, which is why I’m usually so close to crabbing boats.” His flush has worsened a little and he’s staring determinedly down at the rock, like he’s reading from a script. “I can’t swim all that deep down, the pressure gets really bad and it’s too cold for me.”

“We have a King, but it’s not really decided by blood, it's just whoever is the most capable!” Izuku’s looking at you know, propped up on his elbows, “which is a really good system, I think! Helps keep corruption out of power and the King right now is so good! You’d love him, I bet. He’s the coolest.” He seems to realize the rambling, but you only urge him to continue, “some of us migrate, but it’s more a personal choice! I had a friend that moved further south last year, but we’re not like turtles or anything.”

“That’s so cool,” you're not really talking to him anymore — voice so quiet only you can really hear yourself, “it’s like a mini-society.” You scoot closer to the ocean, “is there, like, species of mermaid? Like freshwater, saltwater, deep water ones?”

He nods and you notice his hair has dried, green curls bouncing with the movement, “mhm, the deep-sea ones barely ever get spotted though! They have their own little world down there, I bet.”

The idea conjures a, arguably, fantastical image in your mind. The haunting appearance of all those deep-sea fish science has captured projected onto human forms. Bioluminescent mermaids whose skin is so light it’s nearly see-through, showcasing glowing veins and bones. Mermaids with dangerous teeth and long claws dug into the wreckage they call home. 

You haven’t noticed the tide rising, water now gently lapping at your hips instead of your thighs until Izuku says something, “you probably shouldn’t be in the water — it’s late.”

Something odd is lurking in his eyes as he watches the water lap at your clothes and you nod, “yeah — yeah I should check on my uncle. Make sure he hasn’t strained himself.”

You feel his eyes on your back the entire time you're packing up, tracking your every move, until you’ve crossed the quickly vanishing bridge from the mainland to the cove. Izuku’s still perched on the rock, chin resting on his arms in a deceptively lax position. You can tell he’s alert.

“I’ll — I’m gonna come back, okay?” He seems to shake whatever had bothered him earlier off, grinning brightly.

The walk back to your Uncle’s house is quiet. You can’t help but think about Izuku and the look on his face. It was like he was… worried about the water touching you, like he didn’t like you sitting in it. And the way he’d watched you until you were back on dry land. Like he wanted to shelter you.

You see Izuku practically every day after that. After getting your uncle situated for the day and running whatever errands Katsuki needed help with, you’d make your trek down to the cove.

He tells you more about the ocean and starts bringing you gifts. Little things, usually, broken shark teeth and full sand dollars. You start bringing him different foods, mostly sweet fruits or fluffy breads.

Izuku asks a lot of questions, you learn. You also learn he’s not the biggest fan of citrus, preferring the muted sweetness of a mango or peach. Though you also quickly learn to remove the pits before he gets ahold of them so he doesn’t attempt to split them on his molars. 

The little walk to the cove has become routine, by now, despite being thwarted by thickets and grass, you find it easy to navigate. Your bag has a combination of kiwis — which you don’t expect Izuku to like — and mangoes, covered by a soft beach towel from when you were young. 

Izuku’s there when you arrive, perched on top of a large smooth rock close to the water's edge and fiddling with something in his hands. It looks large, from where you are, and pale. 

He jumps when you settle beside him, fingers tightening around the object — a shell — before he relaxes. Izuku says your name like a laugh, “you startled me.” His grip on the shell loosens and you can make out the details. It’s a conch, a beautiful swirl of pink and burnt orange and nearly half the length of his forearm. It’s beautiful. 

Izuku notices your stare and holds the shell up, nodding to you, “I found this the other day and I thought you might like it.” He barely lets you process the words before his breath stutters, “you, um, you don’t have to keep it or anything! You could give it to one of your friends or sell it or anything! It just made me think of you. Not that I. Not that I think of you.”

“Izuku,” you breathe, voice heavy with mirth and adoration, “I love it. It’s so pretty.” The fins on his tail shiver against the rocks when you take it and the blush coating his cheeks deepens. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t respond, not verbally, but his tail curls up against your thigh and the fins protruding from soft curls flatten against his head. Izuku’s eyes alight and he preens under the attention, shuffling even closer. He mumbles something under his breath and you have to lean in to catch even a word of it. 

You make a quiet hm? in an attempt to have him repeat it, occupying your hands with running over the notches of the shell in your lap. He jumps again when he glances at you, like he’s surprised that you’re still perched on the rock next to him. 

“I,” clawed fingers flex against your calf as he stares, lip caught between his teeth, “I wanna show you something. Next time you come.”

“Oh,” you’re not really sure why you’re surprised, “like underwater?” He nods earnestly, lip still caught between sharp teeth. Your hand curls over his own, fingers slotting together, “I’d love to, Izuku. I’ll dig my old snorkeling equipment out tonight.”

He lets out a breath, shoulders sagging as he melts into your side, “thank you.” Izuku makes a soft noise, low and rough like a purr, when your thumb rubs against his knuckles.

“I have more fruit.” You say it more as a distraction, a way to ignore the puffs of air against your throat, “mangoes and kiwi’s this time.”

“Kiwi?” His head lolls against your shoulder until he can look up at you.

“It’s kinda like… an apple and an orange mixed together,” you fumble. How are you supposed to describe the taste of something to someone whose pallet is so narrow? “Like, the same texture as an apple but a little softer and a little more citrusy.” 

His nose scrunches up and you laugh, “I didn’t think you’d like them all too much. But I figured you could eat the mangoes.”

You take to digging through your bag, his chin still balanced on your shoulder. The three fruits you’d brought are still cool from the grocer, sweating slightly in the sun. You’ve gotten good at cubing the fruits without anything to cut against, prying the pits from the cloying flesh. Though you suppose you’re entertaining any easy audience since Izuku usually eats fish straight from the sea. 

It’s easy to melt into the familiarity, no matter how odd the situation really is, of being around Izuku. You should probably still be weirded out by him — you’ve only known him for a couple weeks — but it feels right. Spending your day laid out on sun-baked rocks eating cooled fruit feels somewhat… inevitable.

The moment’s interrupted by a noise, heavy footfalls which sends Izuku shooting up and pushing himself halfway into the water. His hand curls against your ankles and a sound, low and crackly — a hiss — you realize, erupts from the back of his throat.

Then a head of blonde hair, spiky and soft, emerges from the trees. “Katsuki?”

“Kacchan?” You don’t have time to question why Bakugou’s here, too focused on the recognition in Izuku’s voice. The nickname, you assume, sounds too personal and you’re so confused. 

Katsuki ignores him, staring pointedly at you, “your uncle needs ya. Now.” 

Izuku’s still halfway in the water, fins pressed flat against his temples and claws dug deep within the rock. You apologize quietly as you gather your things, eyeing Katsuki over your shoulder.

The walk back into town was quiet again. Unnervingly so as Katsuki was determined to keep his eyes locked on the ground in front of him. You do the same, just to avoid the question, and interestingly sand looks the same in every single spot you check. Cool.

“So,” you start to regret the words before you even speak them, “you, uh, you already knew about mermaids, then?” 

He grunts in a way you take to mean ‘yes’ and you continue, “so did you know that’s what happened that night, then? Why I ended up close enough to the boat for you to be able to get to me?”

Another grumble.

“So… how’d you… how’d you meet?” Katsuki would’ve been the last person on the island you thought knew about mermaids. Denki maybe, who’d tried to convince you that every minor problem the town faced was aliens. Or even Eijirou who was so open-minded sometimes you worried about him catching flies. 

He sighs heavily. It was a fair question all things considered. “You’re not the first one in town to get swept off a fuckin’ boat.” A muscle in his jaw spasms, “and you’re not the first one that dumbass has rescued.” 

Katsuki stops talking after that, like he answered your question in any way satisfactorily. Then, he scrubs a hand over his face — pressing so hard against his eyes you think he’s trying to dig them out — before scoffing, “Just. Just don’t leave the fuckin’ beach without him around, alright?”

“Katsuki, I can swim, you know? I’m not a child.”

He pointedly ignores you, “alright?”

“Fine.”

“Planning on snorkeling later?” Your uncle’s gotten better, only needing a walking stick to be able to move around the house. You worry less about him now, too. “Didn’t know you still had those.”

“Yeah, I saw something at the cove yesterday,” you smile. It’s not a total lie, at least. 

He chuffs a laugh, turning the heat down on his bacon, “you remember how much you’d begged for us to finally take you? You hated being under. Had to hold you above the surface so you could just put the mask in.”

You do. You’d always had a weird relationship with the ocean — you loved the idea of it, what it held, but were terrified of the power. The destruction you’d seen it cause to not only the village itself but the people within. 

“Didn’t stop coming, though. You’re stubborn,” he turns to wink, “get that from me.”

The flippers don’t fit into your bag, bright green ends pressing against your arm and squishing the plums you’d bought yesterday. It’s earlier in the day than normal — sun not as bright and the sand cool beneath your feet.

Izuku’s waiting for you when you, his tail cutting impatiently through the water, when you finally arrive at the little cove. He schools his expression when he sees you, lifting out of the water with a bright smile and calling your name. “You came!”

“Of course I did! I promised, didn’t I?” He makes room for you on the rock, watching as you work the bright rubber flippers onto your feet. They’re uncomfortable and you can feel sand clinging to the sides of your feet.

“I was just… worried.” There’s an underlying tone that makes you think he’s not talking about you showing up. That he’s talking about this is—the water—what he’s worried about. “It’s not too far, promise.”

You’re not convinced he’s really telling you, more a reassurance for himself. But all the same, you smile down at him, “I trust you, Izuku.” 

He seems to relax at that, hands coming to brace your shins as you scoot closer to the stone’s edge. It is a little unnerving, being in the water again, but not so bad with him there. His palm slides up your leg, clawed hand curving over your hip—bracing you—as you finally shimmy down the rock.

Izuku’s hand moves to the back of your head when you start to sink, cradling your skull as a wave pushes you back against the rock. “Careful,” he murmurs. He doesn’t let you go once you’re fully in the water, tucking you easily in the crook of his arm and helps you slip the mask over your face. 

The water’s colder than you’d hoped, shudders racking you and you press closer into his side, “thank you.”

He swallows, visibly, and you can feel the anxious squirm of his tail against your leg before he settles. You float there, your back still pressed against the rock, for a moment before he grins again. Izuku’s grip tightens minutely before he lowers himself in the water, “ready?”

The flippers make it easier to keep up with him—a feat made even easier as Izuku refuses to let go of your hand, pulling you close to his side—and it doesn’t take much to reach what Izuku had wanted to show you.

There’s a reef, bright and colorful, just beyond the cove. The water’s colder there and bluer. The floor is covered in life, thickets of seaweed and bright clusters of pink and orange coral. The fish are smaller, but colorful and they don’t seem to fear Izuku when he pulls you in.

He still never lets go of your hand, following close behind you whenever you need to breathe. Izuku’s smile hasn’t left either—dimpled even as he watches you bob with the waves, wiping at the air slicking against your forehead.

You take to following him, cutting languidly through the water as he shows off his tiny world: bright pink plates of encrusting and fish no bigger than your palm. It’s not the first time you’ve seen it, of course, but it feels like you’re seeing it differently. 

You’re grinning when you break the surface, pulling your mask up your forehead and hands gripping at Izuku’s forearms, “that’s so cool, ‘zuku.” The taste of salt is heavy on your tongue, clinging to your teeth but you don’t mind. 

Izuku grins, the fins buried in green curls twist forwards, “good?”

“So good! I forgot how pretty the reefs out here are. I’m so glad you brought me,” he preens under the attention and you can feel his tail brush against your calf. You think he’s going to say something when he stops, staring at something over your shoulder, and gasps.

“One more,” his hands curl around your wrists and tug you forwards, following whatever he’d seen in the water. You have half a mind to try and slip the snorkel over your face but you don’t. You trust him.

He stops a little ways away, pulling you against him and staring down in the water, “look.” 

Your grip on his arms tighten when you do—a large manta ray is below you. It’s moving slowly, wings cutting lazily through the water barely a foot beneath when you’re floating. There’s a few more of them, deeper in the water, below it and you watch as they glide easily through the waves.

You laugh, quiet and startled, as you watch the creatures disappear from sight. The sound draws Izuku’s eyes to yours and he watches you for a moment. His hands move on your back, readjusting their grip and he knocks his head against your own, “ready?”

Your legs are screaming by the time Izuku’s leading you back to the cove. He seemed to have noticed you slowing, insisting you wrap your arms around his neck to let him pull you along. 

The air feels colder after being submerged for so long, and you shiver against his back. Izuku’s breathing is odd. You’ve always noticed it, it’s so much slower than your own, but the feeling’s soothing. You start to count them in your mind, letting your cheek rest against his shoulder as he moves. 

You barely notice that you’ve gotten back to the cover or that he’s started to move you. You follow him sleepily, letting him tuck your head under his chin and legs into the crook of his arm. 

He hoists you up onto the same rock you’d sat on before, slipping the rubber flippers off you. You don’t expect him to follow after you, arms on either side of you and hips framed by your knees, “did you like it?”

“I did,” you hum and tuck a drying curl behind his ear, “it was beautiful.”

Izuku grins again, so bright your chest tightens, and leans to press his forehead against yours. You feel his lips skim your cheek when he finally parts from you and slips back into the cove.

You wish you’d thought about this more—the inevitable—before you forced yourself to confront it. You’d always been meant to stay for just the summer. Help your uncle get back on his feet, enjoy the break before your semester started, and maybe figure out what you were going to study long term. You never planned on staying.

Izuku’s words replayed, the seemingly insignificant fact from when you’d first met. Most mermaids never left home. He’d spent his entire life here. You didn’t expect him to want to leave. 

And how would that work, anyway? You didn’t think he’d enjoy living in your bathtub nor do you think you’d be able to get him back home without more than a few questions. 

So the conversation had to happen. You just wish you’d prepared better. Or at least not keep avoiding it.

Izuku had started sunning with you. You’d spread out your plush towels by the water’s edge and he’d flop next to you, squinting at the sun and pressing himself into your side. It was easy, nice. And incredibly hard to think about leaving.

You’re sunning now, Izuku’s face tucked against your collarbone and curls dried against your jaw. His breath warms your neck, spreading across your chest. 

“Izuku?” He hums, fins twitching minutely, “do you think about the future?” You can feel his brow crinkle and have to fight yourself from smoothing it out with your thumb. “Like… what-”

You’re not sure how to ask. How do you tell him you’re leaving, that you were never here for long and your time has more than run out.

“Are you okay?” He’s propped himself up on flat palms, peering down at you, lip caught between his teeth, “what’s wrong?”

You regret bringing it up, wishing you could sink into the very sand and never emerge. But you can’t. And you can’t keep putting off this conversation. “Summer’s almost over,” you sigh.

Izuku’s head tilts, confusion washing over him before it hits. Oh. You’re leaving. His bottom lip escapes his teeth, wobbling slightly, and he pushes himself further away, “you’re leaving?” You don’t say anything—afraid the burning in your eyes will spill over—but you nod. “When?”

Your breath is shaking when you answer, “in the morning.”

You can see the words hit him, his shoulders sloping and tears bubbling to the surface. Izuku stares at you for a moment and you can feel his slow breathing speed, tears finally spilling over freckled cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, thumbing the tears from his face and pressing your forehead to his, “I have to go back to school and my uncle’s healed but I, I’ll visit.” You’re crying, too now. “I’ll come back every break if you want me too, I promise.” 

Your throat burns as you look at him, he looks so distraught. You want to fix it, but there’s nothing you can do.

“I’m sorry, Izuku.” Your thumbs continue to wipe at his cheeks, ignoring your own tears, “I wish there was a way—but I can’t. There’s nothing I can do, I can’t stay here and—”

“And I can’t leave.” Izuku’s voice is brittle when he speaks, waterlogged. You hate it. 

Your forehead knocks against his, nose nudging his own, and your arms drag him down against you, “I’ll come back, I promise, anytime you want me to.” The words come out weaker than you’d hope and you hope your actions are stronger, fingers tangling in his hair. “I wish I could take you with me.”

He tenses, breathing evening out suddenly. Your phone buzzes from the beach and you glance at it, “it’s probably my uncle.” You smooth a hand over his cheek, “I’ll figure something out.” Something odd has overtaken his expression, the sureness he had before he’d given you the shell or asked to show you something new—determination.

You gather your towels quickly, avoiding the water and Izuku’s heavy eyes. You know you’ll stay if you look.

You almost leave the shell. It’s the very last thing you pack, sitting on your windowsill beside a vase of dried flowers. It’d be easier to leave everything, you think. Bury it in your childhood chest of drawers and forget this break ever happened. 

But you can’t. So you wrap the shell in a soft sweater and tuck it into a corner of your suitcase. 

The bags a lot fuller leaving than it was when you first arrived. Stuffed with all the little shells Izuku’d given you and the small crate of creamy chocolate bars Kiri had insisted you keep to “remember him” by. He and Sero had also surprised you with an armful of hawaiian shirts, every single one already had their sleeves cut off for you. “Saving you time!” Sero had declared when you’d sighed heavily.

You still pack them.

You’ve cleared out everything but the tiny closet when you hear your uncle talking to someone. He sounds pleased, someone he knows then, and you only recognize the second voice when they’re at your door. Katsuki.

The door is pushed open, revealing a disarrayed Katsuki whose comically out of breath, gripping your doorknob and grabbing at your forearm.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

He ignores you, pulling you out the door and down the stairs. Yanking at his fingers accomplishes very little, and complaining about your incomplete packing seems to make his grip tighten. 

“Katsuki! What’s wrong?” You dig your heels into the ground, finally becoming a big enough resistance for him to huff and turn to you.

“The cove.” Izuku.

Your breath catches and you let him pull you quicker, mind racing. Is he hurt? Did something happen? You’d seen him a few hours ago, how’d it happen that quickly?

The water’s empty and still when you finally breach the trees. And you fist at Katsuki’s sleeve. Then, you see him. He’s bundled up in a towel near the shore, curls damp and dark against his forehead. “Izuku,” you gasp. You notice the lack of fins first, nothing but achingly human ears protruding from his hair, then the fact that the beach towel ends in feet, pruned from the water. 

He smiles when he sees you, pained but still achingly bright and you choke on a sob, scrambling to kneel in front of him. He catches you easily, melting into your arms as soon as they find their way around him.

Your heart is still beating against your ribs as you cup his face, running your thumb over the curve of his cheek to collect the tears and saltwater. The absence of his tail becomes glaringly obvious when he shuffles closer to you, knees knocking against your own. “Izuku…why did you… what did you do?”

He shakes his head softly, curls dragging against your cheek as his nose presses into yours, “doesn’t matter.”

You laugh, bright and relieved, and he pulls you further against his chest. His lips skate across the curve of your cheek before his mouth meets yours, chaste and sweet. His arms wrap around your waist as blunt hands curl into the back of your shirt. You can feel his heart beating beneath your palm, skin warm and sticky with the sea.

He noses at your temple when you part, sighing softly, “I, uh, I can go with you, now.” He says it a little hopefully, like you’d ever say no and you nod hurriedly.

“Of course you can, ‘zuku,” nuzzling into his palms, “you’re gonna be hard-pressed to get rid of me.”

HAIKYUU MASTERLIST

angst/hurt [a] ; fluff/comfort [f] ; crack/humor [c] ; suggestive [s] ♡ personal faves

[ BACK TO MAIN ]

# KARASUNO

# NEKOMA

# AOBA JOHSAI

# FUKURODANI

# SHIRATORIZAWA

# INARIZAKI

# OTHER

i'll keep every promise (if it's a promise with you) | oikawa tooru x reader

oikawa tooru has a bad habit of breaking promises and running from his first love. or: the four times oikawa breaks his promises and the one time he keeps one

( a / n ) - oh my god this is my magnum opus... my baby.. its a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff and a little slice of life. u go through ages 6 to 28 LMFAO. iwaizumi + you + oikawa were such a fun trio to write for and i hope u guys enjoy !!

gn! reader | 2k words | happy birthday OIKAWA

Oikawa Tooru has a guilty conscience and a bad habit of breaking his promises. 

For every promise made and every promise broken, Tooru repents: 200 yen slid in a saisen-bako, a ninety degree bow, two wishes at a shrine. An offering to counter every promise he breaks, ample water to wash away his sins, and apologies written on wood.

 ( Iwaizumi has made the grand suggestion of: Maybe not breaking your promises? on several occasions, but Tooru can’t help it. ) 

He’s broken four promises and made eight wishes so far: four on blue Tanzaku and four atop Ema boards, followed with a prayer and an offering if the promise broken was particularly heinous or particularly his fault. 

He breaks his first promise at six years old– one made with you and Iwaizumi when the three of you were four and freshly neighbors. It was Tooru’s birthday, and he had promised this: 

I swear that I will take us all to the Ryokan before I turn six.

It’s a small promise: one that neither you nor Hajime had expected him to follow through with. But Tooru believed it, and Tooru had tried. He takes every single chore and odd job in the Oikawa household, scraping together a two-year-old Ryokan trust fund with mismatched coins and crumpled bills. He saves his allowances and puts everything in a glass jar next to his bed, and dreams.

Two Julys pass. Oikawa blows out four candles and then five, the jar gets bigger, you start Elementary school, and you and Hajime forget about the Ryokan. And then, on the third July, when Tooru turns six, you and Iwaizumi find Tooru mumbling about a broken promise— courtesy of his failure to take the three of you on an all inclusive trip to that Snow Monkey Ryokan that Iwaizumi wanted to go to. 

So he apologizes through prayers at a shrine and two wishes under a red Torii gate. It’s a thirty five stair climb to the neighborhood shrine: Hajime and Tooru race up and you come last, but the view is gorgeous and Tooru feels considerably less guilty.

It is 100 yen for each wish on a colored paper strip. Hajime says they’re called Tanzaku. Hajime drops one coin, Tooru drops four, you drop two. Seven thunks, four wishes. 

Tooru gets the honor of tying your tanzaku on bamboo branches as the tallest of your trio, and with it, the honor of reading your wishes.

Iwaizumi’s wish is messy and scrawled on bright red— Tooru tells him to Please work on your handwriting, but it’s legible and all well wishes for volleyball and you and Oikawa and cicadas.

Tooru’s got two wishes— a cyan one and a turquoise one, but he only lets you and Hajime read the cyan one. His cyan one is a little neater than Iwaizumi’s and reads:

Sorry I couldn’t take us to the Monkey Ryokan. 

He hangs the red one on his tippy-toes. Cyan next. Hajime cheers a little when Tooru hangs turquoise next to your pink one, and then asks: 

“Whaddya need two wishes for anyways?” 

He shrugs. 

“Guilty conscience, maybe?”

You’re thirteen when Tooru promises that he is going to ask you out in two years. Tooru is not allowed to date until he’s in high school, so he tells you under a blanket of stars that when the two of you are a little older, he will ask you out properly and maybe take you on a date. 

He walks you to school every morning. Hajime comes too, but the pink skies before the sun rises are for you and Tooru. Moments before you make it to Iwaizumi’s block are moments that Tooru gives you his scarf, and then his gloves, and when the wind bites at your cheeks too hard his jacket is draped over your shoulders. On rainy days, Tooru holds the umbrella and laughs as your fingers brush and your cheeks flush. Some mornings he brings you toast: and tells you in hushed whispers to eat it before Iwa-Chan sees. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi walk you home after cram school and volleyball practice. Hajime’s house is first— so Iwaizumi bows first, heads back inside first, waves goodnight first. When the door closes and the light turns on, the black sky and twinkling stars are for you and Tooru. He always says Good Night saccharine sweet with a smile like the sun that makes you feel like you really can’t wait to turn fifteen. 

Oikawa blows out fourteen candles. The three of you graduate in blue and walk home like usual. Summer passes, another July goes by, Oikawa blows out fifteen candles, and high school starts.

You learn several things in your first year at high school: you really like the student council, Hajime is actually pretty smart, and Tooru is afraid of commitment. 

Tooru is popular: he is athletic and tall and the Volleyball Club’s golden first year. He smiles at the girls in his class, he slings arms around their shoulders, he winks when he passes by the student council room, and he preens a little and shines a lot.

Oikawa is fifteen when he goes on his first date with a girl from another school: and when he tells you and Iwaizumi after he gets home, he plays dumb as Hajime gives him a look and takes you home, overhearing Iwaizumi’s apologies and your crestfallen voice as you say something about a promise.

Oikawa’s chest hurts that night so he walks to the shrine with 200 yen in his pocket and a sorry scrawled on two pieces of colored Tanzaku. 

Oikawa turns sixteen and goes to the shrine again. 

This time, it’s a broken promise with a girl in his class. She was popular– she smelled like cotton candy and reminded Tooru of strawberries and daisies, so when she asked Tooru out, he had said Sure, and he had smiled like she was the sun. 

But he’s a bad boyfriend– a terrible boyfriend– because he’s only there when it’s convenient and he ditches her for volleyball practice and maybe sometimes he catches himself thinking about a certain childhood friend when she holds his hand and buys him milk bread at lunch. 

She was sweet and she was terribly pretty, but he doesn’t feel anything when she kisses him or when she rests her head on his shoulder.

Iwaizumi asks him what he’s running from after practice one day. Tooru knows Iwaizumi is asking why he is running from you. 

Tooru is a little scared of how you make him feel too much. Oikawa likes being in control and Oikawa likes stability, so when he realizes that his heart thumps erratically whenever you’re around and he finds himself all consumed with thoughts of you and a burning desire to please you; he rejects and refrains. And runs.

His girlfriend dumps him after a few months. Tooru says sorry, removes her phone contact, and faintly remembers a promise he made with her four weeks ago. 

I swear I’m not in love with someone else. 

from: tooru (23:20) shrine time!!! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

from: hajime (23:21) You broke another promise?? Ur a piece of shit lol

from: tooru (23:22) iwaaa chan U￣ｰ￣U  ur so mean !

from: you (23:24) bro . don’t tell me it was about ur ex ur a manwhore !!!!

from: hajime (23:25) Average Shittykawa moment

from: tooru (23:25) i can’t help it !! (✿ ♥‿♥)  everyone wants a piece of me !!! ill pick u guys up and we’ll go to the shrine and ramen after plsss ☆

from: hajime (23:26) Ur treat?

from: tooru (23:27) iwa-chan’s treat !! i’m going through a nasty breakup, remember ? \_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

from: you (23:29) hajime we know his address we can burn his room down

from: tooru (23:30) OK FINE my treat! it’s on me!!! everyone say thank you tooru !!!

from: hajime (23:31) thank you tooooruuu chan (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

tooru and y/n reacted with: Scared !

from: tooru (23:32) um please don’t do that ever again

Oikawa’s fourth promise is one to himself and one to Seijoh. 

We will make it to Nationals. 

He doesn’t leave his room for a week when he breaks it. He’s inconsolable. He says he’s sick: he’s got a bad fever, it’s contagious, he’s bedridden, he’s fine. But the lights are never on in his room, his curtains are always drawn, and you know that Tooru devoted everything for a chance and a dream and a volleyball. 

He comes to you first. He’s standing in your doorway and there are bags under his eyes and he says, Hi, and then, I’m fine. He tries for a smile— and then you give him a look, and suddenly he’s in your arms and sobbing. 

He cries for two hours. Tooru ugly cries– his chest racks when he sobs and his arms are tight around you and digging into your back. Oikawa Tooru is not weak: but he is not a prodigy.  

He falls asleep in your bed with his head in your lap and your hands in his hair, but his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s shifting a lot and he’s probably having a nightmare. You call Hajime before gently shaking Tooru awake. 

He blinks up at you— all puffy eyes and tousled hair and swollen cheeks, but he sees you and he softens.

“Wanna go to the shrine?”

Iwaizumi still grumbles the whole way up the thirty five steps, but he’s quiet as Oikawa slips two coins into the saizen-bako. Hajime wraps an arm around your shoulder as the coins rattle in the box and you know he’s upset too— his hands are slightly shaking and he keeps sniffing. Nationals might have been Oikawa’s dream but Iwaizumi was also a dreamer, and sure, Oikawa was going to go, but they were going to go together.

Tooru hangs two Ema boards and for the first time, he bows at the Honden. Two claps. Head down and hands together as he prays. Iwaizumi joins him: and you watch as Oikawa apologizes to him and Hajime shakes his head- because it was Hajime’s promise too. 

Oikawa is twenty-eight and on a plane when he finally keeps his first promise. 

It’s a small promise: but a promise nonetheless, one that he made before he left for Argentina. He tells you he loves you at the airport but he has his boarding pass in one hand and his passport in the other. And you tell him you love him too, but also that he’s being unfair, and no you won’t go out with him. And Oikawa knew you would say that, but he still finds himself making a promise– a promise you laugh at because Oikawa Tooru never keeps his promises.

If we’re still single in ten years, I’m going to find you, and I’m going to ask you out. 

You cry, and Tooru wraps his arms around you and cries too— and then Iwaizumi’s there, and Iwaizumi’s crying, and you don’t know which part of you is Oikawa or Iwaizumi. Oikawa leaves for Argentina with a heavy heart but a hunger for the future. 

In the ten years that pass he plays a lot of volleyball. He tans a lot. He learns some Spanish. He tries beach volleyball. And then, he buys a plane ticket on his birthday. 

from: y/n (21:12) happy birthday tooru !! me n hajime r having an honorary drink for u. hope ur having fun in argentina!!! hajime and i say te amo !!!!

from: tooru (21:15) i’d like a hot sake plssss thank u!!! ( ˙▿˙ )

from: y/n (21:15) LMFAO. no. me and haji r drinking ASAHI DRRRRRRYYYYYYYY for u bro also hajime got BUFF wat the hell hope ur tanning good in argentina 

from: tooru (21:16) well tell BUFF iwa chan that ill be there in 5 and i want a HOT SAKE and also YES i tanned good SO EYES OFF IWAIZUMI

from: y/n (21:17) ? what? ur funny lol … TOORU?

Tooru is twenty eight and might retire soon. Thirty five stairs is too many to climb and keeping promises is far more fun than breaking them. So he taps your shoulder, hands Iwaizumi your bouquet, and takes your cheeks in his palms to tilt your chin over. 

“Hi!” He says. 

 Tooru bends down to kiss you. 

Dont mind me, just thinking about …

Husband!Tsukki who cannot shut up about you when he comes back to work after your wedding, surprising all of his coworkers when he willingly shows off wedding photos

Husband!Tsukki who fiddles with his ring when he’s anxious, because it makes him think of you and that calms him down

Husband!Tsukki who refers to you by your new last name way too often in the first few months after your wedding because he’s just so enamored with the fact that you’re his

Husband!Tsukki who says “my wife,” in conversation instead of your name, even to people who know you (they try so hard not to make fun of him because it’s really sweet to see him so happy but also … the ones that were your friends first can’t resist giving him a little shit about it)

Husband!Tsukki who gets you flowers every couple of weeks, making sure that little centerpiece on your dining room table always looks fresh

Husband!Tsukki who surprises you on your first anniversary with a miniature version of your wedding cake (it was kind of a pain to get the guy who did the original to do this, but, Tsukki’s persuasive, he managed)

Husband!Tsukki who’s special ringtone for you is the song you danced to at your wedding

Just … Husband!Tsukki.

Desperate Confessions with: Riddle Rosehearts , Leona Kingscholar

Others: Jamil and Sebek

Riddle Rosehearts

It’s almost dark when you finally step out of the library. The entire campus is steeped in the quiet warmth of the setting sun, casting long shadows and filling the air with a golden glow. You spot Riddle just a few paces away, standing by the ivy-laden wall, seemingly waiting for you. His usual composure is absent, replaced by an odd stillness in his posture, a tension that you can feel even from here.

"Riddle?" you ask, concern coloring your voice as you approach him. He turns, and for a moment, he doesn’t seem like himself. His face is flushed, his gaze intense, almost… desperate.

“You’re here,” he says quietly, almost in relief, though the softness of his words belies a turmoil simmering beneath. "I didn’t expect you to come out this late."

You tilt your head, trying to read the unspoken thoughts in his expression, but he doesn’t give you a chance. “I… need to tell you something.” His voice is tight, as though he’s struggling against himself to form the words. His hands are clenched at his sides, and he looks as if he’s trying to steady his breathing. “It’s—it’s been too much lately, and I don’t think I can keep pretending I’m…unaffected by you."

For a moment, he closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, they hold a vulnerability you’ve rarely seen. "You’ve haunted my thoughts, day and night. Every time I see you, I—I’m left wondering if I’ll be able to speak without… without feeling like my heart will burst. I feel like I’m losing control of myself whenever you’re near.”

His cheeks flush deeper, but he doesn’t look away. "I’m embarrassed by it. This—this lack of control.” His voice breaks, just a bit, and you can hear the self-criticism beneath his words. “I’ve spent my whole life restraining myself, and then you—” He takes a shaky breath. “You come into my life, and suddenly… I can’t.”

Your chest tightens at the rawness of his confession, at the deep-seated need he’s barely holding back. Before you can stop yourself, you close the gap between you, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him close.

Riddle’s breath catches, but he doesn’t pull away. His eyes are wide, a hint of disbelief mingling with hope as he gazes at you, unspoken words trembling on his lips. And in that moment, you realize that there’s no need for more words.

You surge forward, capturing his lips in a fierce, unrestrained kiss. It’s hard, almost desperate, and every ounce of feeling he’s kept bottled up seems to crash over both of you at once. Riddle’s arms wrap around you, and he clings to you as if he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

He kisses you back with the same intensity, almost a little shyly at first, but it quickly deepens into something far more passionate. His hand slips up to cup the side of your face, and you can feel his fingers tremble ever so slightly as he pulls you closer, kissing you like he’s wanted to for far too long.

When you finally part, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting together as you catch your breath. Riddle’s eyes are shining, his lips swollen from the kiss, his face flushed.

He looks at you with a kind of wonder, like he’s still not entirely certain this is real, and then, almost shyly, he whispers, “I didn’t… I didn’t know it could feel like this.” His voice is soft, reverent, as if he’s savoring each word, the remnants of his vulnerability lingering.

Leona Kingscholar

It sneaks up on Leona, this feeling he doesn't know what to name. At first, he thinks it's just irritation—that persistent gnawing that comes with your endless presence. You’re always around, talking, laughing, pulling him into things he swears he doesn’t care about. He assumes it’s only a matter of time before he finally snaps. But then you’re not there one day, and the world feels off-kilter.

He spends that entire afternoon restless, eyes flickering toward every entrance as if expecting you to walk through it. But you don’t. The gardens are too quiet, his naps too still, and he’s left with a strange emptiness that he can’t shake off.

The next day, you’re there again, and the weight lifts. He scowls when he catches himself relaxing, brushing it off, but it keeps happening. Days pass, and it’s clear—he misses you. This realization grates on him, bothers him in a way nothing else has. How could he, Leona Kingscholar, find himself so wrapped up in someone else?

Then, today, he’s back in his usual spot in the garden, the shade cooling his skin as he lounges, pretending to nap. He can hear your footsteps before he sees you, and he opens one eye as you approach, carrying a basket of food, smiling that soft, familiar smile of yours.

"Thought you’d like something to eat," you say, setting the basket down with that easy grace of yours that makes his chest ache.

And that’s it. That ache in his chest spills over, and he can’t hold it back anymore. It all comes rushing out, like a dam breaking.

"Why?" he says, his voice rougher than he intended. "Why do you keep coming here, even when I’ve given you every reason not to?" He’s sitting up now, leaning toward you, the intensity in his eyes making you blink.

He huffs, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "I thought you were a nuisance at first. Always hanging around, always in my space." His voice drops lower, rougher, almost as if he’s frustrated with himself. "But the truth is… I’m the one who’s a mess without you. You leave, and everything just… feels wrong."

There’s a pause, and he looks down, jaw clenched, hands clenched in his lap. "I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I don’t care anymore. All I know is… I want you here. Always." He raises his gaze to yours, the desperation flickering in his eyes a vulnerability that catches even him off guard.

Your heart swells, and as his words sink in, a smile breaks across your face. Tears well up in your eyes, unbidden, but you can’t help it. Before you know it, you’re leaning in, cupping his face, and pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s as gentle as it is profound. The warmth of him, the rough texture of his skin against yours, grounds you, and you kiss him deeply, tasting the intensity of his feelings, the rawness he’s bared just for you.

As you pull back, his thumb brushes across your cheek, catching a stray tear. He leans forward, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, his own lips brushing lightly against the salt of your tears. "Even that," he murmurs, his voice a soft rumble, "even the taste of you like this… I want it all."

And you hold him close, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your palm, realizing that this is where you both belong.

Masterlist

The Heart Cracks Before it Shatters (Pt6) ⋆｡°✩ Bakugou Katsuki

Masterlist ୨ৎ pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt5.5

The finale : Nothing is ever easy.

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Glitter 𐔌 𐦯 : guys dont shout at me i know im one day late. BUT SHES DONE! I cant believe it honestly. this has been such a whirlwind and im lowkey said its over. but I hope you will all stay with me for future projects! yay!

Warnings : SUGGESTIVNESS AT A POINT (nothing explict but still) Angsty, Female!Reader, Reader is a wife, Reader has children, bakugou is very sad, agruments, swearing, sadness, aged up characters, childern, babies.

W/C : 6.9k

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

While the rush of determination felt good in the moment, now, standing outside Katsuki’s office, it’s settled into something closer to pure nerves.

You had a plan. A simple one, really. Step one: show your husband you miss him. Step two: admit you’ve both made mistakes. Step three: figure out how the hell to move forward without wrecking each other in the process. It sounded solid enough when you wrote it out in your notes app—three times, actually—but putting it into action? Yeah. Not as easy as it looked on screen.

The first time you tried was when you were dropping the kids off. For the past two weeks, it had been a no-talking, no-eye-contact type of handoff. You stayed in the house, watched Riko do all the work, carrying her sister’s bags and lugging Koharu to the door while you kept your distance. So, you figured attempt number one was simple enough—step in, carry your own kid out to the car, like you probably should’ve been doing this whole time.

So, you took some deep breaths, took Korahu from her sister's hand (paired with a weird look from the older sister) and ushered the girls to the door. 

Katsuki was there, like always. Leaning against his car, looking tired. Sad, too. But still stupidly handsome, which pissed you off more than you’d admit. The second the door opened and he saw you standing there, his whole body snapped to attention. His eyes widened a little, his shoulders squared up, like he wasn’t sure what to do but he was sure as hell going to do something.

It was almost funny. Almost.

He didn’t say anything, but he met you halfway. Took Riko’s bag without asking. Looking at Koharu in your arms like it hurt him to see her there and not with him. 

“Um…” Riko’s small voice cut through the moment. She hovered a little to the side, fidgeting. “Mama, are you… coming with us?” she asked, her brows pinching in quiet confusion as she glanced between you both.

And, for some reason, this question is a surprise to you. And it very quickly occurs to you also, that maybe your children shouldn't see the maybe difficult and definitely emotional conversation you are planning to have with their father. Yup. Why was that not included in the notes app plan? 

You don’t say anything at first. But now Riko’s staring at you like she’s waiting for an answer, and Katsuki’s standing there, still as anything, his hand flexing around the strap of her bag like he’s holding himself back from saying something.

You clear your throat, shifting Koharu’s weight on your hip. “ um… no not today sweetheart, just saying hi is all”. 

Riko doesn’t look convinced, but she nods anyway, glancing up at Katsuki. He’s already watching you, gaze steady, a crease between his brows like he’s thinking something he’s not sure he should say out loud.

“You could, y’know,” he mutters after a beat, his voice low but rough at the edges. “Come with us. If you wanted.”

“W-were just getting dinner at that place downtown, with the udon you like. And a movie, probably.” 

And if every single member of your little family wasn’t looking at you right now, waiting, hoping, you might’ve groaned out loud. How did you not account for this? How did you not see it coming? And you are not about to screw this up by winging it.

“Oh,” you say, a nervous laugh catching on your tongue. It falls flat. No one joins in. “I think I’ll take a raincheck for tonight. Got some leftover work I need to finish up, unfortunately.”

You reach out to ruffle Riko’s hair. She leans into it, even smiles a little, a nice distraction from the weird tension in the air. 

Katsuki doesn’t push. He never does these days. You’re not sure if that makes it easier or harder.

He just watches you for a long moment, like he’s turning something over in his head. His jaw ticks, sharp and familiar, but when he nods, it’s slow. Careful. Like he’s not trusting himself to move too fast. “Yeah,” he says after a beat. His voice is quieter now. “Okay. Another time, then.”

You offer a faint smile, one you hope looks steadier than it feels, and murmur your goodbyes. Riko gives you one last look over her shoulder before climbing into the car. Katsuki opens the door for her without breaking eye contact, and something about that sticks with you longer than it should.

And later that night, you’re still thinking about it. About the way Katsuki’s eyes followed you. About how you turned down his offer because you weren’t ready—not yet—and wondering if it sounded too much like rejection.

You hope not. God, you hope not.

~~

Kirishima’s warnings about time are still hanging in the back of your mind, like a nagging little voice. The more you think about it, the more it feels like putting this conversation off any longer is just another excuse. So, better now than later, right? What’s the worst that could happen? Well, besides everything falling apart, obviously. 

Father’s Day.

It’s not intentional, not really. It just sort of happens that way. And, okay, maybe deciding to have this conversation today of all days feels a little… questionable. You could start with a positive. “Wow, you’re actually a good father these days!” Sure, the conversation could end terribly, but at least you’d have that one bit of sincerity before everything goes to shit.

A quick text to Izuku confirms what you already suspected—Katsuki’s working during the day. Of course he is. But he has the kids tonight, which means you get the rest of the evening to yourself. Perfect. Time to spiral in peace.

You spend the morning mentally preparing yourself, like you always do before any interaction with your husband these days. It's become a routine at this point—dress nice, check your reflection one more time, make sure your hair’s in place, like somehow that’ll make everything easier. You even check the gift you got him for the millionth time, just to make sure it hasn’t mysteriously disappeared or been swapped out for something less meaningful. You really don’t need any more stress right now.

You want your arrival to be a complete surprise, which means you can't just drive. That would be too easy—and also, the parking sensors at his place would give you away in a second. Katsuki would know you were there before you even stepped out of the car, and you definitely don’t want him overthinking anything. So, you opt for the bus instead. It feels a little ridiculous, but it’s the only way to guarantee you catch him completely off guard. No time for him to prepare or second-guess. You want this moment to be real, unfiltered.

As the bus rumbles along, you look out the window at the sunny day, feeling something a little unexpected—hope. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt that. It’s funny, though, but as you sit there, the memories come flooding back. It was actually this time of year, so many years ago, when Katsuki officially asked you to be his girlfriend. It feels like a lifetime ago, but the memories are so vivid. People are always surprised when you tell them he was shy back then, especially since they only see the brash, bold personality he’s built up over the years. Back then, though, he was anything but.

He suggested a walk and lunch, like any normal date. But you hadn’t even made it ten minutes down the path before he pulled you aside, cornering you against a tree. His eyes were wide, a mixture of determination and uncertainty flickering behind them. “I want to be official,” he’d said, so seriously, yet nervously—completely out of character for him. You couldn’t help but laugh, a soft, genuine laugh. Maybe that laugh made it all the more real, solidifying that this was the boy who had stolen your heart so effortlessly, and the man who was now trying to win it all over again.

And now, here you are, so many years later. The shy boy has grown into a man. Changed by time, by life, by everything you’ve both gone through. It’s funny how much time can shift a person, how it can shape someone in ways you don’t always see coming. You wonder how he’d say you’ve changed, too. Would he even recognize the person you’ve become? Would he still see the girl who laughed under that tree all those years ago? You weren’t so sure.

When you find yourself standing outside Katsuki’s agency building, you don’t hesitate. The adrenaline is already pumping, your heart racing as you push open the door, wondering if any paparazzi are lurking nearby. It’s a small but nagging thought, the price of being so connected to someone so publicly known.

You walk up to the front desk, and the receptionists look up, offering you a warm, welcoming smile. "How have you been?" one of them asks, and for a brief moment, you forget how long it’s been since you’ve actually been here. You can’t even remember the last time you stepped foot into this place. Maybe back when it was still new, and Katsuki was so excited about it. Back then, he used to pester you to come visit all the time, his proud smile, guiding you around with that quiet swagger of his.

You glance around, taking in the changes since the last time you were here. There’s a new fishtank behind the reception desk, the soft swish of water a peaceful contrast to the buzz of the street outside. You didn’t even notice it when you first walked in. When did that get put in? 

Leaning in slightly, you lower your voice to a near whisper, careful not to draw attention. “Don’t tell Katsuki I’m here. I’ve got a surprise for him.” The words are almost a secret, a lightness to them that doesn’t entirely match the nervous tension growing inside you. The receptionists giggle softly, their glances exchanged behind a knowing smile before one of them gives a playful, almost conspiratorial nod.

One of them leans forward, their voice light with curiosity and a hint of amusement. “A surprise, huh?” they ask, their tone teasing but not intrusive. “Hopefully he’ll love it. Honestly, he’s been a little quiet around here... maybe he’s just been missing you.”

You nod, trying to mask the sudden tension in your chest. Off. Katsuki had been distant in a way that was hard to ignore. The words only make your nerves continue to bubble in your stomach. You hate the idea that you’ve been ruining his work life too.  

Once the elevator beeps, you quietly step out and walk down the halfway, the sounds of talking fleeting in the background. Your footsteps echo softly, and for a brief moment, you wonder if this is a mistake, or if you’re doing the right thing. Why does everything feel so uncertain now?

But then you shake your head, forcing the doubts aside. You can’t hesitate now—not when you’ve come this far. You clutch the gift a little tighter, the weight of it solid in your hands, a reminder of why you’re here. Just do it. 

When you finally make it to his office, you can’t help but hesitate outside the door. His blinds are down, so he hasn’t seen you coming. You glance down at your phone—no messages, no missed calls. There’s nothing to suggest he’s expecting you. Still, you hesitate. Your hand hovers above the door, but you can’t bring yourself to actually touch it.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, the tension in your body making you feel jittery, like you're on the edge of doing something you can't quite bring yourself to start. You glance around the hall, seeing a few curious looks in your direction, and you realize just how out of place you must seem, standing here in front of his door, waiting. The longer you stand there, the stranger it feels. You can’t put it off any longer.

God, this is hard.

You knock lightly, the sound barely audible. When no response comes after a couple of seconds, you knock again, this time a little more forceful.

“WHAT,” comes Katsuki’s loud voice from the other side, as sharp as ever. You can practically feel the force of it through the door, and it makes you wonder how his staff ever manages to be around him all day without flinching. But you? You're nervous, sure, but you're not scared. You steady yourself, taking a deep breath, before pushing the door open.

To your surprise, Katsuki isn’t alone.

Izuku is there too, leaning over Katsuki’s desk with his face uncomfortably close to him. Katsuki, on the other hand, is leaning away, his body stiff and his brows furrowed as if he’s trying to put as much distance between them as possible. But no matter how much Katsuki shifts, Izuku’s still right there, talking to him like they’re in some weird, casual conversation.

As you step inside, the low murmur of their voices reaches your ears.

“Why are your under eyes so dark? Have you been sleeping?” Izuku asks, genuinely concerned, his eyes scanning Katsuki’s face. 

“Get out of my fuckin’ face, Deku,” Katsuki grumbles in response, his hand coming up to swat at Izuku’s face. Izuku, as usual, seems oblivious to how much space he’s crowding, even as he nudges closer to Katsuki’s personal space. 

You, on the other hand, stand frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to do. It’s a bit confusing, actually—neither of them has looked over at you even though they both know someone’s coming in. You clear your throat, a soft “hello” slipping out, just enough to break the silence.

And just like that, both of them snap their attention to you. Katsuki’s eyes widen in surprise, his body shifting almost instinctively, pushing his chair back as far from Izuku as possible. He straightens up, his posture suddenly more alert. His eyes track you, silent and intense, but there’s an undercurrent of something—maybe nervousness, maybe relief, and definitely surprise. At least your plan worked?

Izuku, on the other hand, stands up quickly, a wide, easy smile lighting up his face. “Hey!” he says brightly, completely unaware of the sudden tension in the room. “Katsuki didn’t mention you were coming today!” Without missing a beat, he takes a step forward and pulls you into a warm hug, a casual, friendly gesture that feels comforting in the moment but also slightly jarring given everything you’ve been feeling.

Katsuki watches this carefully, his face softening just a fraction when he sees the way Izuku is interacting with you. 

Izuku pulls away from the hug with a grin, oblivious to any underlying tension. “It’s good to see you!” his voice light, before turning back to Katsuki.

“You too,” you say shyly, your voice quiet, your gaze catching Katsuki’s. The intensity of his stare unsettles you more than you expect, his eyes still tracking you like he’s trying to make sense of why you’re here, why you showed up today.

But before you can dwell on it too much, Katsuki’s voice cuts through the air with surprising sharpness. “Deku, leave.”

Izuku blinks, clearly taken aback. “What?! But I want to catch up with you guys! I haven’t seen Y/N in forever, and you’ve been dodging my calls—”

“Get the fuck out,” Katsuki growls again, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Izuku frowns, giving Katsuki a playful side-eye, not picking up on the tension at all. “But you see her every day! I just want to—”

“Deku.”

There’s a sudden finality in Katsuki’s voice, something that makes Izuku pause for a second before his expression shifts. It’s as though he understands something unspoken, the corners of his mouth lifting in a resigned smile. He grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, clearly about to exit.

“Fine… but I really want to see you guys soon!” Izuku says, turning back to you as he heads toward the door. “And Y/N?” he calls with a teasing grin. “Make sure he’s sleeping okay, alright? I know you two are young and in love but—”

“GET THE FUCK OUT, DEKU!” Katsuki cuts him off, his voice booming, and Izuku laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender as he finally exits, leaving you and Katsuki standing there in the thick silence.

You shift uncomfortably, unsure of what to say or do. The plan had been so simple in your head—so clear—but now, in the face of this strange and quiet moment, it feels anything but.

“I—” You start, your voice faltering before you take a steadying breath. “I wasn’t expecting him to be here.”

Katsuki says nothing, his silence hanging between you both like a heavy fog. He runs a hand through his hair, the motion almost like a reflex, and you watch as his jaw tightens, then relaxes. Still, he doesn’t speak.

You glance at the space between you, then back at him, the knot in your stomach tightening. This wasn’t how you envisioned it.

“I brought you something,” you murmur, your hand instinctively reaching for the small gift bag you’ve been holding onto like a lifeline. “For Father’s Day.”

At the mention of Father’s Day, his eyes flicker for a moment, just a brief flash of something soft and unfamiliar before it’s gone. Katsuki doesn’t take the gift from you immediately, instead watching it with a gaze that’s more distant than you expect. He doesn’t say anything for a few long beats, and you’re starting to think maybe this was a mistake, maybe you should’ve just left it alone.

But then he takes a step forward, reaching for the bag with an almost reluctant gesture. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” you reply, your voice quiet but sincere. "It's... it's just a little something."

Katsuki gives a stiff nod as he pulls the bag from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, and though the contact is fleeting, it sends a shiver through you. He opens it slowly, and the soft crinkle of tissue paper fills the silence before he pulls out the small, simple gift you picked out for him—a picture frame. It’s of him and the girls, when Koharu had just been born and was still so tiny. You don’t think he’s ever seen this picture. You took it during one of those rare, quiet moments when he was reading to the girls, lost in the story and unaware you were watching from the doorway.

For a long time, Katsuki doesn’t speak. He simply stares at the frame in his hands, his gaze fixed on the picture. You consider that your going to be met with silence again, that this was all one big mistake and your overstepping with someone that can’t be bothered with you anymore. 

“Is… is it okay?” you ask hesitantly, your voice breaking the silence.

Finally, Katsuki looks up at you, and for a moment, the distance between you seems to shrink. “Yeah. It’s fine. It’s… nice,” he says with a low soft tone to it. 

You shift, unsure of what to do next, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, the hard planes of his jaw, the tension that hasn’t quite faded from his shoulders. It’s like he's lost in the memory, but also wrestling with it at the same time.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks, and the words are barely a whisper, but they hold more weight than any explosion he could’ve set off. "What are you really doing here?"

His eyes flick up to meet yours, but they linger there for just a moment before quickly darting away, almost like he’s afraid of what he might see if he holds your gaze too long.

For a second, you don’t know how to answer. Your throat tightens, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. It’s not an easy question to answer, not when the answer feels too complicated, tangled up with everything you both are and aren’t anymore.

But you manage to find your voice. “I—” You stop yourself, unsure how to explain it, unsure of how much to say. You try again, quieter this time. “I wanted to see you. To... give you that. To... be here.”

His gaze shifts briefly, something unreadable flashing in his eyes before he looks down at the frame again. His fingers tighten around it, but it’s not in anger—it’s like he’s holding onto it, holding onto the moment in the picture, trying to tether himself to something he can’t quite let go of.

There’s a hesitation in the way he breathes, in the way his gaze keeps flicking between the picture and you. He seems to want to say something, but whatever it is, he’s holding it back, like it’s too fragile to speak aloud.

Then—“Sweetheart…” His voice catches, a quiet hesitation there you haven’t heard before. “What does that mean?” His lips twitch into a dry, almost self-deprecating smile. “I’m a little fuckin’ confused over here.”

You huff a breath, nerves fluttering under your skin. Fair enough. You did show up unannounced after weeks of silence, acting like none of it had happened. Of course he’s confused. You would be, too.

“Yeah. Okay. Um—well!” You force a shaky exhale through a tight-lipped smile. God, why is this so hard? “I just… had some things to say and I—well. No. I guess.”

The words tangle in your mouth before they can land anywhere. You’re floundering, and you know it.

Katsuki reaches out, his hand finding your hip with a steadiness you didn’t realize you needed. His thumb draws slow, grounding circles against your side. “Breathe,” he murmurs.

You do. So does he.

And when you give him a small, grateful smile, it’s answered by a faint flush rising on his cheeks. That soft, familiar pink that makes your chest ache. Yeah… this is okay. You can do this.

“I wanted to apologize,” you say, quieter now. “For what happened… last time. When you were at the house.”

His hand falls away from your hip at that, and the loss of it makes your skin prickle cold. But you keep going.

“You were right. It wasn’t fair to you. And then I made it worse by not reaching out after I… after I threw you out.” You swallow hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I guess I thought you’d message me first. Which was stupid.”

“I didn’t want to overstep,” he says quietly, staring down at his hands like they’re something he’s only just noticed. His knuckles are tight, the same hands that just held you, now clenched like he’s bracing for something.

You step closer, reaching out. Your palms cradle his face, coaxing his gaze back to yours. His eyes widen, startled in a way that makes your heart ache all over again. Like he can’t quite believe you’re here.

“I know you didn’t,” you say softly. “I think I was just feeling… insecure. Hurt. And, yeah, maybe a little petty.” You try for a smile, but it’s faint. “Not my most mature moment.”

Your fingers slip into his hair, nails grazing gently at his hairline. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

Katsuki’s quiet for a beat. Then another. His eyes search yours like he’s looking for something he isn’t sure he’ll find.

And then, barely above a breath—“Does that mean I can come home now?”

The way he says it cracks something open inside you. Soft. Uncertain. Katsuki Bakugou, who has always been brash and sure, suddenly sounds like a kid waiting to be told he’s not in trouble. Like he’s hoping for permission to want this.

Your chest tightens. “Yes,” you whisper. “I… missed you. A lot. So if you want to, yeah. Please.”

You barely have time to breathe before he’s pulling you in, arms wrapping tight around you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. His face presses to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m sorry too,” he says, his voice thick. “I hate that I made you feel like that. You’re… you’re the most beautiful fuckin’ person in the world to me. I want you to know that.”

He draws back just enough to look at you, his hands still cradling your waist. His eyes are a little red around the edges. “I’ve missed you so fuckin’ much.”

You smile. And this time, it feels real.

“Me too.”

~~~

Katsuki doesn’t come home that night.

He tells you straight, his hands firm on your hips, holding you steady like he thinks you might drift off if he doesn’t. “I… I want to come back tonight. Fuck, angel, I want to.” His thumbs press in, warm and certain. “But it’s complicated. I got arts and crafts shit with the girls, and—”

He pauses, searching your face, as if there’s something he needs you to understand. And you do. You really do. It’s Father’s Day, after all. He’s planned something fun with them—he deserves that.

So you nod. “It’s fine,” you say, even if it’s not entirely. Even if part of you aches a little at the thought of another night in an empty house.

But then his phone buzzes again. The reminder that he’s still on the clock, still pro-hero Dynamight. He mutters under his breath, answering the call with a scowl. And while he’s distracted, you let yourself slip toward the door. No point hovering.

You don’t get far before he’s slamming the phone down.

“Oi,” he calls, striding toward you. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

You turn, halfway through a smile. “You’re busy.”

“Don’t care,” he shrugs, before wrapping you up in another of his crushing hugs, his chin hooked over your shoulder like he’s grounding himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, breathing him in. “Let me know how you and the girls get on.”

At that, he pulls back just enough to flash a small, crooked smile. “They’ll love it.” And you can tell he means it. He’s already picturing it—Korahu’s chubby fingers smearing paint where it shouldn’t go, Riko trying to keep things under control like she’s got any chance at all.

It all goes surprisingly smooth after that. You part ways. No fight. No lingering weight pressing on your chest. Just… quiet. Simple. You didn’t expect simple.

Still, the house feels a little emptier when you get home. You tell yourself it’s karma. Fair’s fair.

So you fill the quiet with the hum of self-care—cleaning, candles, making the bed like he’s already here. Maybe it’s silly, but it makes you feel better. Like you’re making room for him.

A couple of texts drop in while you work:

[7:34 PM] Kirishima: Katsuki said you guys made up!!! 💪 Happy for u (even tho I’ll miss bro being here 😣)

[8:28 PM] Katsuki: Never letting Korahu touch paint again.

[8:28 PM] Katsuki: [Image Attached]

You can’t help the grin as you open the photo. Korahu’s covered, head to toe, in streaks of neon green paint. The grin gets bigger when you reply, because yeah… things are starting to feel okay.

You catch yourself thinking how simple it was in the end. Just… talk to him. That’s all it took. So simple it’s stupid. But it’s a start. Onwards and upwards, right?

And still… the intimacy part lingers in the back of your mind. Not the physical, not exactly. The closeness. Letting him in again, letting yourself be seen. You’re getting there. You’re proud of that.

You’re just about to call it a night when you hear the knock.

It’s late. Too late for visitors. You tread light toward the door, thinking maybe you imagined it, but then it comes again, sharper this time.

You jump. “Who is it?”

“Me, sweetheart.”

Your heart stumbles. For a second, your mind blanks, chasing every possibility. Are the girls okay? Did something happen? Or did he really take ‘come back tomorrow’ as ‘come back at nearly midnight’?

You crack the door open, and there he is. Katsuki. Standing there like it’s nothing.

“You shouldn’t talk through the door,” he says, voice low, a little gruff. “Use the cameras. Don’t let people know if you’re home.”

You barely register the lecture. “What are you doing here?”

He huffs. “Can I come in first?”

You step back, and he does, toeing his boots off by instinct before looking at you again. He’s flushed a little—maybe from the night air, maybe from something else.

“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He drags a hand through his hair, messy already. “The girls are asleep. Told Kirishima I was heading out.”

You wait. He’s not exactly known for long explanations, but still. You wait.

He shifts, uncomfortable in a way that’s rare for him. “I know I said I’d come tomorrow. I was about to go to bed. Was gonna text you.” His hand rubs at the back of his neck, his voice rougher now. “But I didn’t wanna do that again. I didn’t wanna… not be here. So.”

A beat.

“Probably should’ve asked first,” he mutters. “Sorry.”

You stand there for a second, taking him in. The way his shoulders are tense, like he’s bracing for you to tell him to leave. The way his mouth pulls down at the corners, softened by tired eyes.

You take a step closer, your fingers brushing against his wrist before curling around it. You feel his pulse jump beneath your touch.

“Don’t say sorry,” you tell him, your voice gentler than you expected. “I was just surprised. You know I want you here.”

His breath leaves him in a slow exhale. “Okay,” he says. “Good.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. It’s comfortable in a way it hasn’t been for a while. Quiet. Easy.

Then he shifts, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to pull you closer. “You look nice,” he murmurs.

You huff a laugh. “These are just my pajamas, Katsuki.”

“I know that.” His fingers trace lightly along your jaw, calloused pads dragging slow and careful. “Still means you can look nice, doesn’t it?”

There’s something in the way he looks at you—soft, but hungry. It’s not just that he’s missed you. It’s the kind of heat you haven’t seen from him in a long time, and it catches you off guard. Your skin prickles under the weight of it.

You laugh again, quiet and nervous, and step back just slightly. You regret it the second you do. But he doesn’t push. His mouth quirks into something close to a smirk, easy, like he doesn’t mind waiting.

“I was just heading to bed,” you say, clearing your throat.

“Let’s go then, huh?” His voice is rough, low, but there’s no push behind it—just an offer.

Later, you sit beneath the covers, watching him move around the room. He pulls his shirt off and folds it onto the chair, and your eyes catch on the cut of his shoulders, the sharp lines of muscle along his back. Familiar. Hard-earned. You’ve seen it a thousand times, but it hits you different tonight. Like you’re seeing him again for the first time.

Your face warms, and you look away, embarrassed by how much you feel like a teenager sneaking glances.

The room dims when he turns the lamp down, leaving just a wash of amber light spilling across the sheets. Then the mattress shifts under his weight as he crawls in beside you, his arm slipping easily around your waist, pulling you into the solid heat of his chest.

You let out a slow breath against him, and he answers with one of his own.

“Missed you,” he murmurs. His hand smooths over your hip, dragging slow, then curling back up your spine. “Missed this. Can’t believe I made us go without it for so damn long.”

“I’ve missed it too,” you whisper. “Missed you.”

And then he’s looking at you. Really looking. Like he used to—like he did in those early years when the world was still new between you. His hand comes up to your cheek, thumb stroking along the curve of your jaw. It’s reverent. Careful.

He leans in, brushing his lips to yours, light as a breath. It’s tender, almost hesitant. But you kiss him back. And then it’s not hesitant at all.

His hand slides into your hair as the kiss deepens, his mouth demanding now, hungry and hot. It’s messy, desperate—years of holding back spilling out in the press of his lips, the scrape of his teeth, the low sound he makes when you breathe his name against his skin. His other hand finds your hip, holding on tight like he’s worried you’ll vanish if he lets go.

When you shift, swinging your leg over to straddle his lap, he groans into your mouth, his hands immediately smoothing down over your thighs, then up, fingers splaying wide as if he’s trying to map all of you at once. You’re already flushed and breathless, but the sound of him like this, so openly wrecked for you, drives you to chase more.

The kisses don’t stop—don’t even slow. His mouth is hot, hungry against yours, and the way he groans when you grind down makes heat pool deep in your belly. His hands are everywhere now, rough palms skating over soft skin, kneading at your waist, your ass, like he can’t get enough.

Then he breaks the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, his thumb dragging across your lower lip as he does. Both of you are panting, chests rising and falling like you’ve run miles to get here.

“Fuck,” he mutters, eyes dark as they flick over your face. “You’re perfect, sweetheart. Driving me outta my damn mind.”

You can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes you, your hand still resting over his hammering heart. He’s not the only one losing it here.

“I love this,” he says, his voice rough with heat as he gives your hips a slow, deliberate push down against him. Yeah, you can tell. There’s no mistaking the hard press of him beneath you, or the way his grip tightens as he holds you there for a moment longer. “Love you,” he adds, softer, but no less intense. “But I need you to know I didn’t show up for this. Wasn’t tryin’ to make this a booty call or some shit. I just… really needed to be close to you.”

You lean in, brushing your nose against his, smiling faintly. “I know, Kats. I know that’s not you.”

“Good,” he murmurs. He tips his head back, blowing out a breath, as if he’s trying to cool himself down. “No more for tonight though.”

You blink, momentarily thrown, and then pout, full and obvious. When he cracks an eye open and sees it, his grin spreads slow and wicked. He’s enjoying this, even if his chest is still heaving like he’s run a marathon.

“Ain’t got any protection, sweets,” he says, voice low and deep. “And it’s been a long damn while. I won’t be able to hold myself back with you.”

A beat. His gaze flickers, watching your reaction, something warm and teasing in his expression—but there’s truth there, too. A warning wrapped in affection.

“So unless you want Korahu to have a sibling nine months from now,” he drawls, thumb stroking along your hipbone, “I think it’s best we call it.”

You huff a little laugh and shake your head, leaning forward until your forehead presses to his. “You’re impossible.”

He snorts softly. “Don’t blame me. I ain’t thrilled we have to stop either, princess.”

You both settle, breath slowing. The heat fades into something quieter, something steady. You roll off him and curl into his side, and his arm comes around you without hesitation, pulling you close. He presses slow, sleepy kisses to your temple, to your jaw, to your shoulder—lazy but full of something that makes your chest ache.

“Night, Kat,” you whisper against his skin.

“Night, baby,” he murmurs, and then his voice firms up like he’s gripping the words tight. “I love you.”

It comes out of you before you can think too hard about it. “I love you too.”

There’s a breath, shaky but soft. “Yeah,” he says again, his voice catching just a little. “Yeah.”

~~~

After that night, the waters begin to finally settle.

It isn’t perfect—Katsuki is still busy, still only human. But he’s trying, and when he slips up, you forgive him. And when you start to overthink things, he doesn’t let you spiral—just pulls you close, asks you softly if things are okay, if they can be better.

He leaves notes when he knows he’ll be working late, scribbled in his sharp, messy handwriting. Little things. I love you. Sleep early. Don’t wait up. Or, Miss you already. See you soon, sweetheart. And things do get better.

And it’s not just you who notices.

Riko smiles more, hugs you without hesitation. Her arms don’t feel like they’re trying to hold you together anymore—they’re just hugs, warm and happy and childlike the way they should be.

Going to Katsuki’s parents for the first time after everything isn’t as scary as you thought, either. His mom pulls you in tight, whispering a quiet thank you. But you thank her instead, and when Katsuki catches your gaze, there’s no shame there—no guilt or lingering anger. Just quiet, steady affection.

It makes you wonder how you ever went so long without it.

Because now, you’re addicted to it. Not in a naïve, honeymoon phase way—no, things aren’t perfect. There are still arguments, still sharp words and teary nights. But the love isn’t put into question anymore. That stays constant.

Life moves fast, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t dread it. You embrace it.

And then, one quiet evening, as you sit on the beach with Katsuki, watching the girls play in the sand, you’re reminded just how far you’ve come.

His chin rests on your shoulder, arms draped around your waist as you twirl his fingers absently between yours. The waves roll lazily in front of you, golden light casting long shadows across the shore.

“You know,” he murmurs, voice low against your ear, “it was three years ago today.”

You hum, still watching the girls. “What was?”

“When you left.” His voice is quiet, careful. “Up to Tokyo.”

The words land soft but heavy.

It feels so long ago now, that time in your life when everything felt unbearable. But you still remember it—how could you not?

“Wow,” you murmur, letting the thought settle. “So long ago now.”

“Yeah.” He pauses, his grip tightening around you, like he’s bracing himself.

Then, softer, “I’m still sorry about that.”

You turn slightly, glancing back at him. His gaze is distant, the light catching in his eyes, making them burn a little redder than usual.

“I—” he exhales, shaking his head. “It’s one of my biggest mistakes. Letting things get to that point. I don’t think I can ever fully forgive myself—”

“Katsuki.” You shift, turning fully now so you can cup his face in your hands. His eyes flicker to yours, sad and heavy with regret.

“I nearly lost you,” he whispers. “I did lose you. And I still can’t believe myself.”

Your heart aches at the way he says it—like it’s something that still haunts him, something he’ll never quite let go of.

But you smile, small and sure. Your thumbs brush over his cheekbones, grounding him.

“But you didn’t,” you remind him gently. “We’re here. Together.”

He lets out a slow, shuddering breath, like he’s been holding it in for years. Then, finally—he nods.

“Yeah.” His voice wobbles just slightly, thick with something unspoken.

You kiss him, soft and lingering. His hands find your waist, holding you close, and when you pull back, his forehead presses to yours, breath warm against your lips.

You turn again, settling back against his chest to watch the girls for a moment longer, listening to the rush of the tide.

Then you glance back at him, feeling brave. Feeling full.

“Where do you think we’ll be in another three years?” you ask, leaning into his chest.

He huffs a soft laugh, kissing your hair.

“Wherever you are,” he says simply. “That’s where I’ll be.”

And you believe him. It feels so good to have full promises again.

You tilt your head back, catching his lips in a kiss that tastes like salt and sun and a future you’re both ready for.

And when you pull back, he’s smiling. Really smiling.

“Come on,” he says, tugging you gently to your feet. “Let’s go get our girls.”

“Yeah,” you reply, fingers threading through his. “Let’s go home.”

And you do. Together.

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

it was so daunting finishing everything off, but i hope its okay!

🏷️ : @dragonscribble @coldnightshark @huntyhuntycunty @thychuvaluswife @boojaynaqueen @kalulakunundrum @purplegaussianprocess @harryzcherry @bubbleguppieshh @geekessi @itzjustj-1000 @nuo0n @hana-patata  @ilovemushroomss @notokinthehead @obsessedwiththesturniolos @djlance-rock @j1tterbugaboo @ch3rryjampi3 @gayheterosexual @hauntedstudentobservationus @onlyisaa @rika-chan-12 @eddie-bonzo @meikoo @barrythestrawberry041 @littlestinkybastardman @incognit7 @hhhhhhhikariiiiiiii @sachikomwahxx @d4rlinxs @eyesforbkg @akiii143 @eternallyshifting @sukuxna0 @cremthehive @uhsakusa @mentallystablesstuff @gabby-ha @kelz-69 @js-favnanadoongi @bakugouswh0r3 @kinichlover1298 @yikesdudesstuff @armeenix  @sirerzafolchart @juiceeypeach @sukistar10 @amiime @asteraslvrr @teeesthings @charlotterosea13 @g3n3v13v33 @kiberrymatcha @urmamastits @biancatomlinson

general taglist 🏷️ : @cristy-101 @cielito--lindo @waterfal-ling

THINGS CLASS 1-A BOYS ARE INSECURE ABOUT and how you help them feel better

tiny angst to big comfort, not too distressing

masterlist

warnings: body image, body checking, stretch marks, self bad mouthing LOL, sleepy time writing and not proof read. hope u enjoy!!!

part 2 shiratorizawa vbc

KIRISHIMA

• bby doesn’t like his tum :(((

• he gained a lot of weight as he grew up and most of it was muscle but he has a little pouch and he doesn’t like it one bit

• if he goes to the beach, he’ll always swim with his shirt on, even though he’s a famous hero and is largely thirsted over

• sometimes he just needs to have u near bc he gets a little sad when he thinks about all the other pros u could be with their hard and chiselled and perfect bodies and he doesn’t know why u would ‘settle’ for him ( >:((( )

• which you hate bc there’s nothing you would change about him and you actually think it’s really adorable and he’s the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen and it just makes you so mad

• you try to tell him that you think he’s gorg in every conceivable way

• he’ll take the compliment and it will make him smile but it doesn’t change how he feels in the long run

• funnily enough the thing that gets him to like his belly more is when ur insecure about ur tummy actually!

• he catches you in the mirror pulling back ur top up look at ur stomach and you sigh defeatedly

• homeboy is like 😱😱😱🤨🤨🤨🤬🤬🤬

• he comes up behind you and places his hands on ur waist, rubbing the front sides and telling you how much he loves you in ur ear

•caresses ur belly and really looks at it in the mirror. he thinks it’s so cute, so soft and warm, he thinks the extra pudge is just more surface area to appreciate on you, and he loves ur cute love handles, he likes how they look when he pinches them

• the next time he’s checking himself in the mirror, he lifts up his shirt and looks at his tummy. huh, it’s not so different to urs, he never notices that before. he brought his fingers down to squidge the sides, and they felt like urs.

• this makes him think, if he likes it so much on you, why can’t he like it on himself??? he should be proud he looks even a little bit like you, the great beauty you are to him.

• so, now, whenever he sees the extra fat in his tanks, or feels it against the waits band of his shorts, he just thinks of you and smiles warmly. maybe he was a handsome boy, just like you said

MIDORIYA

• he has a lot of stretch marks actually!

• he built a lot of muscle very quickly so they’re on his arms and his upper back

• doesn’t let them bother him too much he’s pretty happy with his looks i’d say

• but sometimes if he looks at himself too long he’ll see them and he’ll falter a bit, he just wishes his arms were ‘normal’ sometimes but there’s not much he can do

• all you have to do is verbally reassure him

• like if you find out he doesn’t like his stretch marks, you just need to say:

“izuku! be quiet i love ur stretch marks!!”

• he’ll be like :o really?

• and ur like “yeah dumb dumb i think they’re hunky and they’re like free tattoos. plus this skins really smooth there.”

•after that instead of looking away when he catches them in the mirror, he flexes his big arms that he worked so hard for and smiles like this ^U^

KAMINARI

• doesn’t like his nose ???

• you can’t imagine why

• you ask him why when he complains about it while ur getting ready for bed sometimes, sharing a mirror

• he’s like “it’s too ... pointy”

• what ever the fuck that means

• you slowly start to try and help him feel a little better by kissing the tip of his nose a lot instead of his cheek or his forehead

• it’s not scientific but u hope a bit of extra a attention will help

• it does make his heart warm, and he decides if u like his nose so much, he’ll try to see things your way from now on

• he wants to be more confident not just for himself but for you too. a big chunk is for himself too tho

• cherry on top is when ur watching a movie and the hottest guy in the whole thing comes on screen and u absentmindedly go “that guy has the exact same nose as you” as u play with his hair with his head in ur lap

• he holds onto that compliment til the end of time

IIDA

• his glasses :(((

• wishes he could look more like his brother, but he can’t wear contacts bc he has sensitive eyes

•feels embarrassed putting them on in the morning, feels like a dingus wearing them sometimes (break my heart why don’t you)

• let’s just say it’s before you get together

• thinks they could hinder his chances with you too

• That is until,,,, he hears you chatting away with Mina about your ideal man

•”hmm i’m not sure.. i like nerdy guys tho, like smart, trust worthy, all that. can’t say i’m not partial to a man in glasses either.”

•his cheeks had never been redder

• he had gone to find you to ask you a question about a project you were doing together, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore, which was admittedly not very nerdy of him

•all he could think about is that he’s ur type, he’s ur type, he’s ur type

• all worries about his glasses disappear, or are brushed aside soon after they appear after that incident

heya gang, this was fun to do, let me know if u want a part 2 with more characters, although it’s hard trying to not make them repetitive. replies and reblogs appreciated!!! bye love u bye!!!

𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝙼𝙷𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚢𝚜

Summary: How will the boys of class 1-A react to their crush confessing their feelings for them?

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of food, Mentions of insecurities

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari

Word Count: 2.9k

♡ Izuku Midoriya ♡

- HE GETS SO RED OMG HE WILL LEGITIMATELY BE MORE FLUSTERED THAN YOU AND YOU’RE THE ONE CONFESSING HE'S SO CUTE ^^

- You had a feeling that it may overwhelm him if you decided to confess in a public setting, so you waited until after all of your classes for the day were over to confess.

-Besides, confessing in private made the whole ordeal much less embarrassing for you if Izuku were to reject you. He’s an incredibly kind person and the two of you are fairly close, so you know he’d never mock you or react rudely to your confession, so facing his rejection in front of only him seemed much less scary than facing it in front of all of your classmates.

- It took you about an hour to mentally prepare yourself to confess to your long-time crush before you managed to pull out your phone and text him asking if you could come over, a small part of you praying that he would say he was too busy so that you wouldn’t have to confess.

- Unfortunately for you, Izuu responded almost immediately with a short ”Of course, you’re always welcome to come over! :)” message. His kindness made your heart swell despite your fear, happy at least at the fact that he seemed excited to get to see you.

- You quickly made your way over to Izuku’s dorm, not wanting your nerves to get the best of you before you could confess. The universe was clearly trying to show you that it was time, and you had done your best to prepare yourself for any consequences you may receive as a result of this decision, so all that was left to do was get the confession over with.

- Izuku could clearly see that something was off from the moment you walked in, placing his hand gently on your back as he welcomed you in to his room and offering you a bottle of water which you gratefully accepted as you sat next to him on his bed (ensuring there was a decent amount of space between you two, lest your heart beat out of your chest in the middle of your confession) and told him you had something you needed to say to him. 

- "Wait, really?”  He managed to spit out with a voice crack after a moment of shock, effectively cutting off your anxious rambling as you spoke. The two of you stared at one another with wide eyes, neither of you able to speak for a moment as Izuku’s mouth continued opening and closing as he attempted to gather his thoughts.

- He waited silently as you inhaled deeply, gazing anxiously at him and blurting out your confession before you had a chance to second-guess yourself.

-The moment the words “I have feelings for you” left your mouth, however, it was as if his brain stopped registering the words coming out of your mouth and his face immediately bloomed into a bright crimson shade. 

- It took him a few moments to regain his composure, leaving you waiting anxiously for his reaction to your confession for longer than you would have liked, but once he got past how flustered he felt he ended up telling you he feels the same and tentatively reaching over to hold your hand in his as he asked if you’d be interested in going on a date with him once you finish your classes tomorrow (which of course you happily agree to, linking your fingers together as you stare at one another with shy, lovestruck eyes) :>

♡ Katsuki Bakugo ♡

- Bakugo would 100% try to pretend that he wasn't flustered at your confession, but you manage to see through his facade even in your nervous state, prompting a lot of teasing until you manage to officially ask him out lol.

- Of course you see him as kind of a wild card when it comes to how he’ll react to your confession, meaning you don’t think it’s a good idea to confess to him in front of other people. You know better than most people how blunt Bakugo can be with his teasing, and you decide that it’ll be easier for you to deal with his potential rejection without an audience.

- You’re one of the few people Bakugo is comfortable around, so you’d like to think that even if he doesn’t feel the same way the two of you will still be able to maintain the friendship you’ve built up, but Bakugo is still so unpredictable to you that you’re not entirely sure, which is why you’d been holding off on confessing for so long. 

- You decided to head down to the kitchens that evening and confess to him while he was making dinner, since he usually cooked for all of your classmates on Fridays (despite the fact that he complained about feeding all of you “ungrateful losers” every single time without fail) and everyone else typically left him alone while he was cooking, so you’d have some privacy while confessing. 

- If anyone else had come down to bother him while he was cooking Bakugo would have sent them away with a harsh glare, but the moment he realized it was you hovering carefully over his shoulder as he cooked he felt his muscles relax slightly, turning around to mutter a “What are you doing here, idiot?” softly in your direction.

- Unfortunately for you, it seemed that now that you were face-to-face with the boy that you had been crushing on for ages now, your confession looming like a dark cloud over your mind, your words began to get clogged in your throat as your nerves flared up within you.

- Though you tried your best to articulate what you were trying to say to Bakugo, you were unable to get any words out of your mouth, simply standing there with your mouth open, eyes wide and panicked as the boy grew more confused by the second.

- “...Do you have something to say or what? Spit it out Y/n, I’m trying to fucking cook here.” Bakugo eventually broke the silence, though no malice was present in his tone despite his harsh words.

- His no-nonsense tone snapped you back into reality and forced you to shake off your nerves, taking a deep breath as you realized it was better to get this over with quickly than to draw it out.

- You watched Katsuki’s eyes widen as you confessed your feelings for him, a rare stunned look crossing his face as he attempted (and failed) to fight of the blush beginning to form on his cheeks at your confession

- “...Was that all you had to say?” He asks once you’ve finished your confession, causing you to finally glance at him and smirk at how visibly flustered he was. He was attempting to seem relaxed and calm, but his bright blush and the way his voice cracked on his next sentence clearly gave him away. “Well I like you too, dumbass. You should have said something sooner.”

- He spends the rest of that evening grumbling as you tease him over how adorable he looked while flustered, but the kiss he presses to your temple as he walks you to your room that evening tells you he truly isn’t annoyed at you in the slightest.

♡ Shoto Todoroki ♡

- As we all know, Shoto can struggle with understanding subtle cues when it comes to emotional issues, so it’s best to be as upfront and clear as possible when confessing to him (and once he realizes what you’re saying he will be stunned into silence, as he isn't quite sure how to react at first).

- You had taken an interest in Shoto from the very first day you saw him after arriving at UA, and your interest had only grown over time as the two of you had become closer.

- It didn’t take too long for you to become one of Shoto’s closest friends, the two of you truly connecting once he began letting his walls down and showing his classmates more of his true self. You quickly learned how much he genuinely enjoyed physical affection and how he was an amazing listener and how passionate he was about his hero training, and all of these qualities only made you fall harder for him.

- While you spent quite a bit of time deliberating on whether or not to confess, seeing as Shoto was well known as the “pretty boy” of class 1-A and you were sure he had been confessed to by others before, eventually you decided you needed to confess to him for the sake of your friendship.

- You were beginning to feel awkward around your friend, burdened by your attempts to keep your feelings under wraps, and you knew that confessing would resolve the tension you were feeling around Shoto one way or another. Whether the two of you would end up together or you’d finally be able to eork towards moving on from him and restoring your friendship, a confession was clearly needed in order for you to move past the awkwardness and anxiety looming over your mind whenever you were in Shoto's presence.

- You ended up inviting Shoto over to your dorm as the two of you were cleaning up after eating dinner altogether, having been assigned to do the dishes together for the evening. You told him you had something you needed to talk about quickly, unknowingly causing anxiety to begin bubbling within him as he trailed behind you on your way to your dorm.

- Insecurities and worries slowly flooded his mind as silence fell between the two of you, mind racing as you moved to shut the door to your dorm behind the two of you. ‘Did I upset them somehow? Are they hurt? Do they not want to be friends anymore?’

- What you said next halted all of these worries, however, stunning the boy into silence as you blurted out your long-withheld feelings. 

- “Listen Sho, I have feelings for you. As in, romantic feelings. And if you don’t feel the same I totally understand, but if you do, would you be interested in going on a date with me this weekend?”

- “Wait! I’m sorry, I was just surprised.” He suddenly spoke, causing you to finally look up and make eye contact with him. A small smile spread across the boy’s face as he continued to speak, releasing his hold on your wrist in favor of tentatively linking your hands together as his other hand nervously scratched at the back of his neck. “But I’d love to go on a date with you, Y/n.”

- Your eyes were shut tight as you spoke, silence once again engulfing the space between the two of you as Shoto stared at you with his jaw open. You barely managed to peek your eyes open enough to look at the boy's reaction, his stunned face causing your heart to drop in disappointment.

- His silence seemed to all but confirm the idea that he didn’t feel the same, and you turned to hide your face and begin to apologize for making him uncomfortable just as Shoto reached out to wrap his hand around your wrist.

♡ Eijiro Kirishima ♡

- I honestly feel like you’d plan out a whole confession just to accidentally blurt out a confession randomly while the two of you were together, which of course Kirishima would find absolutely adorable ergntnjtkyjh 

- He’s a very talkative, friendly person and it’s really easy to just let your guard down and relax around him, which is a huge part of why you initially began liking him, but now it’s put you in a slightly embarrassing situation.

- You had consulted Denki once you realized that you were sick of keeping your feelings hidden away, deciding that you just wanted to confess to your friend and face whatever he had to say in response, and though Denki provided little assistance in actually helping you plan a confession, it was nice to at least be able to tell someone else about your hidden feelings and run your confession plan through someone else before putting it into action

- You had everything planned out, you were going to wait until the weekend and then make Kiri a nice homemade lunch (you knew that would put him in a good mood) before eating together and confessing to him one-on-one.

- Denki agreed that it was a solid idea (as did Mina, who overheard your plan after Denki decided to speak obnoxiously loudly while discussing said confession plan with you during lunch one day) and you were planning on spending the rest of the week preparing yourself to finally confess to your crush.

- Unfortunately, it seemed that the world had other plans for your confession, which came to fruition in the middle of a lesson with All Might that week on Wednesday afternoon.

- You were each being asked to showcase three “special moves” you had come up with over the past week of training in front of your entire class, and when your turn came up you flew through all your special moves with ease. You had been practicing these moves practically non-stop throughout the week, and when you heard the enthusiastic cheers of your classmates in response to your demonstration you knew your hard work had paid off.

- Your proud smirk quickly flew off your place as your jaw dropped, however, once Kirishima moved to wrap his arms tightly around you from behind, cheering about how amazing you had done and asking how you had managed to perfect all three moves in such a short amount of time as your face began to heat up.

- “...Hello? Earth to Y/n?” He asked as he loosened his hold on you after a moment with no response from you, noticing the startled, flustered look plastered across your face. “You okay? Why do you look so… nervous and awkward all of a sudden?”

- You weren’t quite sure how to answer his question without clearly giving yourself and your hidden feelings away, and as you wracked your brain for an answer and attempted to force words out of your mouth your vocal chords betrayed you in the most embarrassing way possible.

- “I like being in your arms.” You spat out after a moment of silence, face immediately heating up tenfold as you tried to backtrack and explain your sudden, strange comment. “But not just your arms! I like everything about you, honestly I just like being around you, but that's pretty obvious considering I have a huge crush on you-” 

- “I’m gonna guess that was unintentional,” Kirishima chuckled as he began running a hand through your hair, “but I’m glad you said all that, because I like you too.” He gently placed his finger beneath your chin as he spoke, lifting your face up to his and pressing a gentle kiss to your nose with a grin on his face as he finally had the chance to ask you out. “So, you wanna go on a date with me this Saturday?”

- You forced your mouth to snap shut as you realize what had just occurred, turning to bury your face in Kirishima’s chest in shame as you felt his chest shake as he chucked at your words. Several of your classmates were staring at you in awe at this point, shocked at what you had just blurted out seemingly out of nowhere.

♡ Denki Kaminari ♡

- He will most likely embarrass you publicly with his reaction, I hate to break it to you ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (But in all honesty he just gets really giddy after finding out you like him, so be prepared for a strong reaction from him lol)

- Honestly you know that even if he doesn’t feel the same way you do, he would never intentionally make fun of you or tease you about your feelings, which is what eventually gives you the courage to confess to your long-time crush.

- The two of you had been close for quite a long time, and while it may be difficult for you to get over your feelings if he doesn’t reciprocate him, you’re happy to have him in your life no matter what and are willing to accept it if he doesn't feel the same.

- Honestly Denki thought that you already knew about his feelings for you and just weren't romantically interested in him, seeing how he was incredibly flirty whenever the two of you were around one another and you never responded to his advances, but because he was a naturally flirty person you never thought much of his flirty comments.

- I feel like in an effort to not make your confession a huge deal you’d decide to ask him one day on your way to lunch, with enough people in the halls around you that it would feel like more of a casual conversation while still offering you some privacy.

- Denki really enjoyed making you flustered, though, and on that particular day it seemed like he was practically trying to force your confession out of you with how flirty and playful he was being. Constantly calling you gorgeous or beautiful, booping your nose, ruffling your hair, and just generally being extra affectionate, and you were completely shocked when you managed to make it all the way until lunch without blurting out a confession.

- The two of you were walking side-by-side, lunches in hand, as you made your way to the UA cafeteria, Denki going on and on about new modifications he was considering making to his costume as your mind drifted from the conversation, and you new it was finally time for you to confess, accidentally interrupting him in your haste to just get your confession over with. 

- Though he went to complain once he heard you start speaking, completely cutting through the sentence he had been in the middle of, the moment he heard “I have a crush on you” his mouth snapped shut as a wide grin made its way across his face.

- You were barely able to get your confession out before you felt the boy’s fingers begin attacking your sides, tickling you and causing giggles to erupt from your mouth as he teased you.

- “You’re so cute, Y/n, you know that? I was starting to think you didn’t like me and I had misread our relationship completely!” Denki chuckled happily as he ceased his tickle attack, shifting instead to wrap one arm around your waist and mumbling "I like you too, you dork. I've been trying to drop hints for ages now." as the two of you made your way into the cafeteria together, hand-in-hand.

A/N: Hi everyone! Since I was already writing these headcanons I figured I’d finish these before I start writing the requests I have so far, so I’ll work on getting out the version with the girls soon so that I can start writing all of your requests! I’m super excited, you guys have sent in such fun requests so far and I can’t wait to start writing them hehe! Also requests are still open as of now, so as long as you check out my request guidelines feel free to send your requests in! (Anon asks are now enabled, so you can send requests in anonymously if you'd like!) Thank you for reading this, and I’m excited to be writing on this blog! :D

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