Msby4 Off Court

Haikyuu fans where you at?

Guys r u thinking what I'm thinking

Izuku being obsessed with you hcs

Genre: Fluff

This is around 3rd year of UA and he has had a crush on you since 1st year. Who knew everything there was to know about you.

Your favorite color, animal, food. What you were allergic to, your favorite movie. The cafe you went to once a week. The years he spent writing about heroes, being able to pick up the littlest of details from afar, has helped in this moment.

Ochaco thinks it’s cute, Tenya thinks it’s extremely efficient, and Bakugo thinks it’s downright creepy.

Izuku understands that you would probably agree with Bakugo, but he can’t help it. He just wants to know everything there is to know about you. So that, eventually, when he does confesses, everything will go well

He had a 6 step plan on how to ask you out and contingency plans just in case, though thankfully he didn’t need them.

Everyone thought his…tendencies will calm down once you guys get together.

Oh how they were wrong, so, so wrong.

In fact he gets worse. Always wants to be around you, but as long as you are okay with it. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, possibly ruin the relationship.

Literally, he’s the first thing you see when you wake up. When he walks you down for breakfast to the cafeteria because he just so happens to be around right when you open the door. He is the last thing you see when he walks to your door and gives you kiss on your cheek goodnight.

Obviously, he wasn’t at all subtle about his crush on you, not that he was hiding it either though. You knew that he was getting all the information on you long before he confessed. Honestly, it made you feel seen in a weird way. To know that someone was so in love with you, so obsessed with you, that they memorized everything about you.

And that was Izuku Midoriya for you, your obsessed boyfriend

Banner by @saradika-graphics

hinata shoyo x reader | teen pregnancy pt.1 the news

Synopsis. a teen pregnancy storie between hinata and reader.

wc. idk anymore sorry. | genre. fluff |cw/tags. fluff, teen pregnancy mentiones, etc.

links: tsukishima | kenma | yamaguchi | kageyama| yachi(!? teen pregnancy series masterlists here!

General headcanons

╭⋅ When you first tell Hinata that you're pregnant, his brain short-circuits. ╭⋅ His eyes widen, his mouth opens and closes like a fish, and he just stares at you in disbelief. ╭⋅ For a few moments, you can tell he's freaking out inside. His leg starts bouncing nervously, and he looks like he's trying to figure out how the universe works now. ╭⋅ After a few seconds, the shock is replaced by awe. ╭⋅ The gears in his head start turning fast, and you can almost see his nervousness morph into excitement right before your eyes. (it kinda scares u cuz is like why da fuk is he happy==???) ╭⋅ He stands up so fast that he nearly knocks over his bento. "I'm gonna be a dad!!" he shouts, unable to contain himself. ╭⋅ Hinata instantly starts thinking about how to improve himself so he can be a dad his child will be proud of. ╭⋅ He's already imagining his kid watching him play volleyball and beaming with pride. ╭⋅ He starts brainstorming baby names, wondering if they'll be a mini volleyball player, too. ╭⋅ "Do you think they'll like volleyball? Or should I get them dinosaur toys just in case?" ╭⋅ He's terrible at hiding his excitement and has to fight the urge to tell everyone right away. ╭⋅ "We'll tell Kageyama, right? He needs to know!" ╭⋅ He grins sheepishly but can't stop imagining the future. He's already picturing your little family, feeling more determined than ever to work hard and be the best version of himself. ╭⋅ Hinata takes both of your hands in his, his expression softening. ╭⋅ "I don't know everything about being a parent... but I know ! want to be there every step of the way." ╭⋅ i just idk headcanon that hinata has a really loving and supportive family so the "my family wont accept this" thouhght barely even registers in his brain i mean he knows they'll be mad but at the end of the day they'll support him ╭⋅ idk, due to his really excited nature i can barely picture this as an angsty scenario

You and Hinata sit together at your usual spot outside, under a tree near the school courtyard. The sounds of students chatting and laughing fill the air, but your heart pounds louder than any of it. You’ve been anxious all day, rehearsing what you’re about to say. Hinata, meanwhile, is scarfing down his bento like it’s his last meal on Earth.

“Y/N, you barely touched your food!” he says between bites. “Are you feeling okay?” You take a deep breath, your hands shaking slightly.

“Hinata… I need to tell you something. It’s… really important.”

His chopsticks freeze mid-air, and he looks at you with wide, curious eyes.

“Important? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” (In his poor mind he thinks u wanna break up)

You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, so you look down at your lap. “I’m… I’m pregnant.”

...

The words hit him like a volleyball to the face. He stares at you, mouth slightly open, completely stunned. His chopsticks clatter to the ground, forgotten.

“W-Wait… you’re serious?” he stammers, his voice softer now.

You nod, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“I know it’s a lot, and I don’t expect you to have all the answers. I just… I needed to tell you.” For a moment, you worry he’s overwhelmed. His gaze flickers between you and the ground, his leg bouncing nervously. But then, suddenly —

“I’m gonna be a dad?” His voice is filled with awe.

You nod again, and before you can say anything more, his expression shifts into something completely unexpected — pure, unfiltered joy.

Hinata jumps to his feet, grinning ear to ear almost dropping his bento. “I’m gonna be a dad!” he says louder this time, drawing a few curious glances from nearby students.

You grab his hand, laughing through your tears.

“Shoyo, keep it down! They might hear you!"

But he can’t help himself. He crouches back down next to you, his excitement bubbling over. “This is crazy! I mean, I was nervous for, like, five seconds, but now… wow! We’re gonna have a kid!” he whispers excitedly

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, the warmth of it chasing away your own fears. “You’re… not scared?”

He tilts his head, thinking for a moment.

“Well, yeah! I don’t know the first thing about being a dad. But…” He grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly. “I know one thing — I’m gonna try my best. Just like with volleyball! I’ll keep working hard, so one day, our kid can be proud of me.” Hinata’s mind is already racing.

“I’ll practice even harder, Y/N! I’ll make it to nationals, maybe even go pro! I want our kid to see me on TV and think, ‘That’s my dad!’” His eyes sparkle with determination. You laugh, wiping your tears.

“You’re already thinking that far ahead?” “Of course!” He leans closer, resting his forehead against yours. “This isn’t just about me anymore. It’s about us — and the little one.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell.

As the lunch bell rings, Hinata stands up and offers his hand to you.

“Come on! Let’s go tell Kageyama.”

“What?!” you squeak, blushing.

“Okay, maybe not right away,” he says with a grin. “But eventually! I want everyone to know that I’m excited to be a dad and kageyama has to be the first one.”

Hand in hand, you walk back toward the school.

Hinata Shoyo, your energetic, passionate boyfriend, may not have all the answers. But one thing is certain — he’s all in, ready to take on this new challenge with the same boundless energy and heart that made you fall in love with him in the first place. And with every step, you feel more certain that everything will be okay.

Because with Hinata by your side, how could it not be?

TAGLIST

@chilichopsticks @dreadnoughtus101

my noodle and minecraft movie date <3

Nice block ☀️

A Sign of Affection—

❋ deaf! Bakugo x Fem Interpreter! Reader

❋ Interpreting for Dynamight: How Hard Could It Be?

❋ 5.9k words

❋ A note before reading: Bakugo is being portrayed as little ‘d’ deaf, this is very important. You can learn more about the difference between deaf and Deaf here! This is also ASL cause that’s what I know.

Part 2

Katsuki Bakugo would never admit it, but he was losing his hearing. He had been for a while now, his explosive quirk might save lives but it was doing nothing good for his ears. He doesn’t admit this, not necessarily because he’s ashamed, but because he refuses to let anyone think he’s anything less than the strongest. Only a select few know, and even fewer are allowed close enough to notice his hearing aids.

You’re one of them.

Working as his interpreter wasn’t something you’d planned for when you first joined his agency. At the time, you thought you’d just be handling the occasional public statement, but it became clear quickly that your role was going to become far more personal when his hearing aids were damaged in his most recent mission. They’re malfunctioning, sounds become high pitched whirs in his ear, so he takes them out.

The silence was oppressive, his ears ringing as he stomped back into his agency headquarters after the mission. His team was talking but to him it sounded like they were underwater. His eyes rapidly dart between faces, trying to lip read, though he hasn’t relied solely on that in years. Fuck, everyone’s talking so fast. He clenched his fists, irritation bubbling under his skin, until finally he barked out, “Shut up!” His voice sounded off even to himself, somehow louder and harsher without his aids.

The room immediately falls silent, his team looking back at him with the same wide eyes and panicked expressions as always. He thinks they’d get used to his brashness by now, guess not. There’s a pregnant pause as Bakugo takes a breath, closing his eyes momentarily before uttering “Someone call an interpreter, I can’t understand you assholes-“ he stops for a second, his face falls in thought before he speaks again “get.. get the one from the press conferences”

“Which one?” Someone from the team utters, slowly this time. “You know which one. The one who actually knows what the hell she’s doing. The… uh…” He faltered for a moment, his scowl deepening. “The one with the— the pretty one. Dammit just call her!”

He doesn’t elaborate further because the truth is, he knows exactly who you are. He’s seen you at every press conference and public statement for the agency, standing slightly to the side of where everyone gathered, interpreting for the news. He wouldn’t admit it— not even to himself but he’d find himself distracted by you often. He was captivated by your hands and facial expression. He could tell you were passionate about your work, hell he might even respect you a little.

His team doesn’t question his words. They just nod in understanding and someone leaves to do just that. He huffs, hoping you get there quickly so he might actually know what’s going on.

“He… what?!” Your voice raises as the voice over the phone relays the message. Dynamight requested you? You couldn’t wrap your head around why he’d even need an interpreter, but you’re not turning down the opportunity. The cup of tea you were drinking abandoned on the counter as you rush into your bedroom to change into your interpreting ‘uniform.’

Fuck. You needed to do laundry. Your clothes are piled in the corner of the room. In your defense, you weren’t supposed to work again until next week. You dig through your closet and dresser drawers hoping to find something suitable for interpreting. Your eyes fall on a black long sleeve, it’s a few years old and you’ve definitely gained a little weight since the last time you’d worn it. It’ll have to do. You throw it on along with some slacks. it shows more shoulder than anything. it’s a little tighter than you’d like it to be, clinging to your body in a way you’d rather it not. At least not for your place of work.

You smooth your hands over your clothes a few times looking in the mirror, sucking your teeth before grabbing your bag and keys and heading out the door. Like you said, it’d have to do. The agency is only 15 minutes from your apartment, which is why you’d so enthusiastically taken the job. That and the fact that it’s his agency. You’d admired dynamight for a long time but honestly the thought of working so closely with him was terrifying.

You arrive and the nice receptionist tells you exactly which room to go to. you give her a warm smile. She returns it, her manicured nails moving rapidly over the keyboard as you shuffle away to the conference room.

You lightly rap on the door twice before pushing it open. “Hi, sorry to interrupt, but I’m the—” The words catch in your throat as the room falls silent, all eyes turning to you. You’re used to this. You’re used to people watching you—it comes with the job of being an interpreter. But you’re not used to him. Your gaze collides with his, and your breath stumbles. “…interpreter,” you finish, the word slipping out softer than you intended.

His eyes are striking, sharp and burning, there’s nothing warm about the way he looks at you. It’s intense, unflinching, and terrifying.

You can’t tell if your heart is racing because his gaze is so intimidating or because you realize, that it’s beautiful, too. Damn it. Focus. You break the staring contest you were apparently having to briefly look at the floor. His gaze felt critical and now you’re second guessing every choice you made before you walked into the office. You shake your head and look up again. “I’m the interpreter” you say, more confident this time.

“About time” he barks out, his tone as critical as his gaze. Your eyes lock with his for the second time. “You just gonna stand there or are you gonna come here and do your damn job?” You let in a sharp breath as you instinctively straighten your spine. “Right.. right sorry” you murmur. Only, what is your job? You still have no idea why you’re even here. Whatever it doesn’t matter.

You step more into the room, positioning yourself where you can see everyone and nod, beginning to interpret. His eyes are still on you, you don’t think they ever left but instead you focus on the various voices around you. Brows furrowed, you shake your head. “Excuse me.” You mutter. The voices continue, loud, scattered, interrupting each other. “Excuse me!” You say louder this time, stopping the conversation as their heads turn to acknowledge you. “Please speak one at a time! A meeting this big should really have more than one interpreter..” you mumble the last part but the others in the room nod in understanding and do as you ask. The conversation resumes, slower and more uniform.

Bakugo doesn’t look away, even as the others start speaking again. You catch snippets of conversation, words like recovery, damaged hearing aids, and villain tactics, but your focus keeps dragging back to him. It’s not just the intensity of his presence—it’s the way he watches you like he’s dissecting every move you make.

Bakugo watches you intensely, his gaze devouring you whole. The way the loose strands of hair are framing your face, how your brows lift with expression, the gloss on your lips, your bare shoulders. Your skin looks so soft and— damnit. He’s not even paying attention.

He barely even knows sign anyway. He’d taught himself to finger spell and after watching you for so long picked up on some of the more common signs. Having you here was more productive. It was less time consuming then writing back and forth and maybe he’d learn something and maybe he’d get to know you. He blinks a few times, snapping himself from the thought. The incoherent voices around him halt and there’s several gazes on him. Someone probably asked a question.

Someone asked a question and he was too busy looking at your stupid fucking shoulders. Who even wears something like that to work anyway? He’s never seen you wear anything like that before and-

“Sir?” A member of his team utters. They’re awaiting his response. He locks eyes with you again, raising his hands to his body.

SLOW. MY SIGN BAD.

He signs to you. S-P-E-L-L.

You feel your eyes instantly widen, you force your face to fall neutral again. You’re interpreting for him? His aids got damaged?

You bend your index finger into a hook shape and tap it twice on your ear. The sign for hearing aid. You spell it out for him, before spelling out fix.

YES, NO, WHICH?

He scoffs, looking back at his team. “I’ve got too much shit to do to sit around and wait for ‘em to get fixed. Why do you think she’s even here?” He says, clearly annoyed at the question. He’s got that scowl on is face and it gives you chills.

The meeting continues, much to your dismay. You’re struggling, trying to take out the key points of what you’re overhearing and interpret to someone who barely knows sign. He’s not helping at all, staring at you with the same critical eyes and blank expression. Is he even understanding you? You try not to let the frustration show on your face.

The meeting is finally over to your relief. Your hands feel tired from so much fingerspelling. People start filtering out of the room. you roam over to where you left your bag, pulling out your water bottle and taking a few large sips trying to shake off the tension.

“Didn’t think signing was that exhausting,” a gruff voice says behind you.

You pause mid-sip, the familiar tone making you freeze. Slowly, you lower the bottle and turn, finding Bakugo standing a few steps away, arms crossed over his chest. His expression is unreadable. “You look like you’re about to explode.”

You huff, honestly not having the patience for this right now. “It’s hard to interpret when you barely know sign language, sir. I can’t tell if you understand anything I’m saying.” You say, your tone stern but still trying to remain respectful.

He stares at you for a beat, his expression unreadable, before he crosses his arms and leans against the wall, his voice low. “I understand more than you think. Just… just not all of it.”

You narrow your eyes, annoyed yet relieved that at least he can give you a little clarity. “Were you going to say anything? Or just let me waste my time and look stupid?” Your hand move rapidly, in frustration, in anger

“You don’t look stupid.” He states in a flat tone. “You’re good at it.” This shocks you a bit, dynamight isn’t known for giving compliments and somehow you feel like his gaze is even more intense than before.

“..was that a compliment?” You blink, caught off guard. “What’re you the deaf one now?” he smirks slightly before letting his rough demeanor take over once more “don’t get used to it” he fires back quickly.

You sigh, shaking your head slightly. “Thanks, I guess. But it doesn’t matter how good I am if you don’t understand” your eyes meet his once more. You sense something in them, if you didn’t know better you’d think it was almost something…apologetic?

His fist clench at his sides, not unnoticed by you and your demeanor softens despite your words. You’re not trying to make him feel bad, it’s probably more frustrating for him.

“I need you to communicate, sir. At least let me know when you understand or not, or I’m gonna keep making myself look like an idiot up there.” You smile slightly, trying to cut the tension you’d accidentally created.

He sucks his teeth “whatever, fine. I’ll tell you.” You give him a small smile in return, starting to gather your things. “Before you leave..” he breaks the silence, you look up at him curiously. He steps closer, lowering his voice. “You can’t tell anyone about my hearing. Got it?”

You feel your brows furrow. There’s a lot you could say back, but you value your job. “Excuse me sir.. but there’s nothing wrong with-“ “I said, you can’t tell anyone. No one else needs to know.” He cuts you off, his words are cold.

The finality in his voice makes it clear the subject isn’t up for debate. You purse your lips, biting back the response you want to give. Instead, you settle for a curt nod. “Understood.” Grabbing your bag and walking towards the door. “Have a good night sir.” Without waiting for a response, you close the door behind you, leaving him alone in the conference room.

Bakugo watches you leave, his hands tightening in his pockets. He’s not sure what it is about you, but something tells him this arrangement is going to be more complicated than he expected.

The hallway outside the conference room is quiet, but your mind isn’t. You replay the conversation in your head, trying to make sense of it. There was something about the way he spoke—about the way he looked at you—that stuck with you. Dynamight was hard to read, but his insistence on secrecy had been laced with something you couldn’t quite place. You shake your head. Not your problem, you tell yourself firmly. You’re just here to do your job, not to figure out Dynamight.

As the elevator doors slide open, you step inside, your thoughts still lingering on him. This isn’t going to be easy, is it? You reach the lobby, saying goodnight to the same kind receptionist from earlier and heading back home.

You’re lying in bed when your phone pings, it’s an email of your new interpreting schedule. With a heavy sigh, you turn onto your back, staring at the ceiling. Meeting your heroes wasn’t supposed to feel like this. You’d admired Dynamight from a distance, inspired by his drive, his unshakable determination, and his ability to save lives no matter the cost. But up close? He was…

You hesitate, feeling guilty for even thinking it. He wasn’t cruel, exactly. Just difficult. Closed off. And it wasn’t like he had asked for this to happen to him.

You close your eyes, willing yourself to sleep. It’s just work, you tell yourself. Do your job, keep your head down, and move on.

But as you drift off, a small thought lingers in the back of your mind. That brief flicker of something in his eyes during the meeting—something you hadn’t expected from a man so famously brash and unyielding.

Vulnerability?

You shove the thought away, but it lingers, a tiny thread pulling at the edges of your frustration. Maybe there was more to him than you realized.

For now, though, you had to focus on making it through tomorrow. One day at a time.

A week passes. The days become easier. You’ve become very friendly with the receptionist in the lobby. Her name was Talia. Your brief interaction turned into smaller friendly conversation. You looked forward to seeing her everyday.

Working with Dynamight is no walk in the park. He’s intense, stubborn, and unapologetically brash. But beneath the rough exterior, you’ve come to know a man who takes his job as a hero seriously, even if he pushes himself too hard to compensate for what you assume he perceives as a weakness.

He’s a little kinder now, at least in the way that Dynamight can be kind. He’s working with you, communicating the way you asked. The dynamic is fine. It works. You do your job, you talk to Talia for a little while and you leave.

Lunch with Talia quickly becomes your favorite part of the day. What started as quick chats at the receptionist desk has turned into full-blown lunch breaks in the small cafe near the agency. She’s easy to talk to—funny, warm, and refreshingly honest.

Today, as you sit across from her, picking at your sandwich, the conversation drifts to Dynamight.

“Is he still a pain?” Talia asks, smirking as she sips her iced coffee. You laugh softly. “I mean, yeah. But he’s… better. Not great, but better.” “‘Better’ for Dynamight is probably miraculous,” she quips, earning another laugh from you.

The smile quickly falls from your face as you stare down at your food, a more serious expression taking over. “God” you groan, your face falling into your hands. “I just don’t understand him. Like at all” “you’re not getting paid to understand Dynamight. If any of us were we’d all be broke.” She chuckles and takes another sip of her coffee.

“I know but it’s just like.. if you’re so ashamed to be..deaf…” you whisper the last part so no one may overhear “..that you don’t want anyone to know why the fuck would you ask for an interpreter? Do you know how hard it is to discreetly interpret in public? We have to make someone else stand next to him so it looks like I’m interpreting for them instead!”

“He’s not ashamed.” She says curtly, ignoring your other frustrations. “What?” Your head lifts from your hands to look at her, both shock and curiosity etched into your face. “I don’t understand” you shake your head.

“It’s not because he’s ashamed or anything. It’s… well, think about it. If the wrong people found out, villains would use it against him. They’d find ways to exploit it. That’s the last thing he wants.”

Oh. You hadn’t thought about it like that. You almost feel a little guilty for making him out to be such an ass in your mind. Almost, cause at the same time, he’s still cold and abrasive.

Your face must show how you’re feeling. Somehow it always does, It’s a curse in moments like this, but it’s also what makes you such a great interpreter. Talia’s hand fall on top of yours reassuringly.

“Hey..” she says gently. “..You’re great at what you do, y/n. Maybe you were wrong about that but it doesn’t change the fact that he is 100% making your job harder” You can’t help the small, weary laugh that escapes you. “You’re not wrong. He’s exhausting. Sometimes, I still don’t even know if he’s listening.”

Talia smirks, squeezing your hand. “Oh, he’s listening. He’s just a stubborn ass who doesn’t know how to show it. I mean, come on. Think about who we’re talking about.” Her words draw a reluctant smile from you. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” You mutter back

“You’ll get through to him,” she says confidently, letting go of your hand. “Trust me. If anyone can, it’s you. You’re here for a reason.” There’s a beat of silence before Talia leans in slightly, her tone dropping to something a little quieter, more serious. “You know, he doesn’t let anyone help him. Not really. He’s always been like that, even when I started here.”

You nod slowly, processing her words. It makes sense in a way. Although her words are reassuring,it still feels frustrating. You look at her, a flicker of doubt still lingering in your eyes. But her faith in you feels steady, unwavering. It’s comforting, even if you’re not sure you fully believe it yet.

“Thanks, Talia,” you say softly, and for the first time in what feels like days, you hold yourself a little higher.

The sharp sizzle of oil fills the air as Bakugo tosses another handful of vegetables into the pan. it’s a rhythm he knows well. But tonight, his focus is off. He scowls at the counter, eyeing the ridiculous amount of food piling up. Again. Every time lately, it’s the same thing. He swears he’s not doing it on purpose.

His mind drifts to you. To the way your hands move when you sign, fluidly.. beautifully. Your frustration barely hidden behind a polite smile. You’ve been busting your ass trying to keep up with him, and he’s done nothing but make your job harder.

Bakugo grips the edge of the counter, jaw tight. He knows you didn’t ask for this, didn’t ask to deal with his stubborn ass.

Before can even realize what he’s doing, he’s grabbing a spare container and loading it with the extra food, snapping the lid on tight. He tells himself he’s being practical. He’s not one to waste food.

When he hands it to you the next day, he barely looks you in the eye. “Made too much,” he says gruffly, shoving the container into your hands before walking away without waiting for a response.

He walks away so fast he almost, just almost misses the small smile that plays onto your lips. The smile that fills his mind for the rest of the day.

And that’s how it starts. The next day he’s shoving another container in your hands, claiming the same thing. Rushing away in the same way. You blink after him, utterly bewildered but secretly delighted. Because honestly? That food was incredible. Like, best you’ve ever had incredible.

By the third day, you’re half-expecting it, your hands reaching automatically as he shoves yet another container into them. It’s becoming a strange routine, one you don’t entirely understand but definitely don’t mind.

At lunch, you decide you can’t just keep taking these meals without saying anything. You owe him a thank you. So, with the container in hand, you find yourself heading up to his office.

You stand outside the office door, taking a shaky breath and light knocking. “Come in” his voice with its usual roughness grumbles from the opposite side of the door. You open it and shuffle in, giving an awkward smile.

“What?” He asked brashly, sounding more annoyed than usual. You feel his eyes scanning you from head to toe. You hold up the container. “I uhm.. I just” you clear your throat. “I just wanted to say thank you for the food lately, it’s so delicious, honestly I really appreciate it.” Your hands move as you speak.

FOOD, THANK YOU, DELICIOUS

You let your eyes wander while he speaks, you’ve never really been in his office. It’s a standard room, barely decorated and of course, tidy. His desk was positioned on the same wall as the door. So that’s how he knew you were knocking..“Uhm. I was wondering.. do you.. wanna eat together?”

LUNCH, EAT, TOGETHER?

You ask, trying to keep your voice steady

He stares at you blankly and just when you think he’s about to tell you to get lost, he shrugs. “Whatever, don’t make it weird” he nods his head in the direction of an extra chair on the other side of the room. You smile and drag the chair over to his desk.

That’s how it starts.

The next day, you’d ask to eat together again. Over the next few days, it becomes routine. Around lunch, you’d head up to his office with your container, and the two of you would sit and eat together. The conversation, at first seems sparse but becomes easier and easier, soon flowing naturally.

He asks about interpreting, your day, your annoying habit of over-explaining things when you’re nervous. And you learn things about him too. Like how he experiments with different recipes because cooking is one of the few things that lets him focus. Or how he prefers silence over small talk, but somehow doesn’t seem to mind when it’s you filling the quiet.

One day, mid-bite, he suddenly says, “Stop calling me Dynamight.” You blink, caught off guard. “I’m sorry?” Your hand forms a fist, rubbing it against your chest with raised brows, signing as you speak.

He glares at you, though it lacks its usual edge. “You’re not on the damn clock when we’re eating. Just call me Bakugo.” You hesitate, then nod, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Alright, Bakugo.”

Talia, however, notices this change almost immediately. Somehow when lunch time rolls around you’re nowhere to be found. She misses your time together.

“Girl, where the hell have you been?” She asks one evening as you pass her desk to go home. “What happened to our lunches? You cheating on me?” She smirks

You flush, “I’m sorry.. I’m sorry I haven’t been communicating” you facepalm. “I’ve been having lunch with Bakugo these past few days, to thank him for the meals and everything”

“Ohhh so it’s Bakugo now?” She tease, leaning forward on her desk. “Sooo when’s the wedding?” You groan, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Talia!” “What? I need to know when I’m supposed to object, can’t have dynamight taking my girl” she giggles.

You roll your eyes but can’t help a small smile.

“It’s nothing, really. We’re coworkers having lunch.” You’re not lying, that’s exactly what it was. Even if deep down you maybe wanted it to be more. Talia smirks knowingly. “Uh-huh. Sure.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I’m serious! And I’m really sorry for ditching you. I promise—lunch together at the end of the week. Deal?”

She crosses her arms, pretending to consider it. “Hmm, I guess I can forgive you. But only if you bring the juicy details.” “Talia!” you groan again, but she just laughs as you wave goodbye, her teasing words echoing behind you.

You sit across from Talia in the same cafe as usual. Catching up for the first time in what seems like forever. You really do feel bad about ditching her, she’s the one great thing that’s come from taking this job.

“So,” she begins, resting her chin on her hand. “How’s lunch with Dynamight been? Does he chew with his mouth open or something?”

You roll your eyes, laughing softly. “He’s not bad, actually. Quiet. Focuses more on the food than talking, which honestly, I appreciate. Less pressure to fill the silence. But I do it anyway.. it’s like the words keep coming out… I can’t stop talking”

She gasps, throwing her hand on her chest mockingly “THE Dynamight? Quiet? I fear a may faint!”

You chuckle and playfully push hit her arm that’s still resting on the table. “Well, to be fair,” you say, grinning, “he mostly spends it making sure I’m eating, sooo.”

“Ohhh,” she drawls, raising her eyebrows. “So he’s looking out for you now, huh? Bet he’s making sure you’re eating all your vegetables too.” “I think he wants to make sure I’m enjoying it. He likes cooking and I know if I could cook well I’d probably do the same thing” you respond matter of factly.

“Sure,” Talia says, drawing the word out with an exaggerated smirk. “And you don’t think it’s because he has a little crush?” You roll your eyes again, fighting the warmth creeping up your neck. “He’s just being a decent coworker. That’s all.”

“Mmhmm,” she hums, clearly not convinced. “Let me know when the wedding invites go out. I’m definitely objecting. Even if I’m the maid of honor”

You snort, tossing a napkin at her. “Can we eat now, or are you just going to keep embarrassing me?”

Talia raises her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you eat in peace…for now.”

Just as you’re about to dig into your food, your phone buzzes on the table. Without thinking, you pick it up, glancing at the unsaved number. The message reads:

“Where are you? It’s lunch. You’re not here.”

You blink, confused. “What the—” Talia hums in curiosity. “I just got a text but I don’t have this number saved” you turn your phone screen so she can see too. She narrows her eyes as she leans closer to read the message, then they widen. “Oh my god. That’s him. That’s Dynamight. Bakugo.”

Your stomach drop. “What? How would he even get my number?” Talia gives you a look. “Girl, I know you’re not that slow. He’s one of the top heroes in the country. If he wanted your number, he could definitely find it.”

“Well?” She nudges you. “Are you gonna text back or not?” “I.. what.. what do I even say??” You respond, growing more flustered. “How about, ‘Sorry, I ditched you for my real soulmate, Talia’?” she says with a smirk.

You try to just roll your eyes, but can’t help but let out a chuckle and type out a quick response.

“Sorry, I’m at lunch with a friend today. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The reply comes almost instantly.

“You could’ve told me.”

Your stomach drops again, and Talia laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Oooooo he’s mad. You’re in troubleeee” her grin only growing wider. “He probably misses his lunch buddy,” she adds with a mock pout. “So tragic.” you give her a glare.

Your groan, plopping down your phone and caging your head in your arms on the table. “Why is he even texting me? And why do I feel bad about this?”

Talia smirks, sipping her drink. “Because you’re catching feelings, babe. Don’t fight it.” You glare at her again over the rim of your hands, but she just laughs harder. You flip your phone over, trying to refocus on your lunch. However, you don’t really feel hungry anymore.

The next day feels…off. You can’t put your finger on it at first, but the energy in the room is different. When you arrive, Bakugo barely glances at you. There’s no gruff greeting, no container of food shoved into your hands with a muttered excuse about “making too much.”

By lunch, the tension feels suffocating. You glance at him a few times, hoping for some kind of acknowledgment, but he doesn’t even look in your direction. He eats alone in his office while you sit in the break room, absently picking at a salad you don’t even want.

You replay yesterday in your mind, Was it because I skipped lunch? Is he that mad about it?

But that doesn’t make sense. He’s Dynamight, not some clingy guy who cares about a missed meal. Still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve messed something up.

He doesn’t look at you. Doesn’t greet you. Doesn’t offer you food.

It’s petty, and he knows it. But he’s pissed—mostly at himself. Yesterday, he let his guard down, let you get under his skin. He shouldn’t have cared where you were or who you were with, but he did. And that pissed him off even more.

So today, he shuts it down. Keeps things professional. Cold.

He tells himself it’s better this way. Keeps you at arm’s length, avoids the growing distraction you’ve become. You’re his interpreter, not his friend. Not someone he should care about. By the time the day ends, he’s still mad. Mad at you for skipping lunch yesterday, mad at himself for caring, and mad that he can’t stop thinking about the way your face fell when he brushed you off.

The next day feels longer , the tension in the air weighing heavier with each passing hour. Bakugo barely acknowledges you, responding only when necessary and only about work. No snide remarks, no shared looks during meetings, and definitely no container of food shoved into your hands.

You try to brush it off, but the absence of his usual gruffness is almost worse than when he was barking at you. By the time lunch approaches you’ve convinced yourself you should just let it go. But as you gather your things, you glance toward his office door, slightly ajar. Before you can stop yourself, you’re knocking.

“Come in,” his voice calls, low and gruff as always.

You push the door open. He’s sitting at his desk, hunched over a stack of papers, his eyes darting around them rapidly, his attention fixed anywhere but on you.

“Sir,” you start, trying to keep your tone neutral, “is everything… okay? You’ve been—”

OK, YOU?

“Busy,” he cuts you off without looking up. He’s not even paying attention to what you’re saying.

You narrow your eyes and bang your hand on his desk twice to get his attention. His head snaps up at that. “Busy enough to ignore me?” His crimson eyes narrow. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“Wow! Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter under your breath, knowing he can’t hear it. Bakugo has read lips long enough to pick that up, even if you’re not signing. For a long moment, there’s silence. You expected him snap, have some witty remarks like usual. Instead his face falls.

“didn’t think you’d care,” he says finally, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. Your eyes widen.“Care? I thought I did something wrong.. I-“ your hands stammer. “you didn’t.” He cuts you off again. “Didn’t wanna bother you. Figured you’d rather spend time with your friend or whatever”

His admission hits you hard, this…this is almost vulnerable? you’d never seen him like this. You knew this wasn’t easy for him to say.

“S-sir..” you stop. “Bakugo.. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” you say softly. “You’re not a bother.”

He mutters, incoherently, shifting in his seat a bit. You can tell he’s don’t talking and you take that as your cue to leave. You shake your hand in the air to get his attention again. “By the way,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I had lunch with my friend that day because I’d been ditching her for you. So… take what you will from that.”

You pause for a beat, your hands coming to a halt, your eyes meeting his, then turn on your heel and slip out the door without another word.

Later that evening, you linger longer than usual, pretending to be caught up in some last-minute paperwork. In reality, you’re waiting for the office to quiet down, for everyone else to leave. When you finally approach his door again, it’s shut, but you can hear faint movement inside.

You push it open a crack, peeking through, and your breath catches.

He’s standing in front of the mirror on the far wall, hands moving clumsily through a set of signs. His brows are furrowed, his jaw tight, frustration radiating off him in waves. He’s got that same notebook he was hunched over propped open on the desk beside him, glancing between the pages and his reflection.

“Fuck.” He mutters, shaking out his hands and trying again. You watch for a moment, something warm blooming in your chest. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and you almost feel bad for interrupting. Almost.

You shake you hand in the air to get his attention.

“You’re improving,” you say softly, your hands moving as you speak.

YOU, BETTER!

His eyes widen, caught completely off guard. For a split second, he looks ready to bark at you, but then his expression softens, just barely.

“Should’ve locked the damn door,” he grumbles, closing the notebook with a snap. You smile, stepping closer. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

His eyes meet yours, something lingering there and for once, there’s no anger, no irritation. Just honesty. “Yeah, I did.”

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Instead, you settle for a small nod, the weight of the moment saying more than words ever could.

“Thanks,” you whisper after a beat, your palm faces you, fingers touching your chin before bringing your hand away from your face.

THANK YOU.

and this time, he doesn’t look away as a small, rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Katsuki Bakugo would never admit it, but he trusted you. And maybe—just maybe—he was starting to let you in.

This is soooo so long omg I’m sorry!! Also the sign is super basic bc he wouldn’t know.. I feel like I needed to say that lmaoo I hope anyone who reads this enjoyed!

Dedicating this to my luver @mimzyu and also @poemeater since Leigh encouraged me to start writing not too long ago <3

World Heroes Mission: Departure OVA Full

I had to clip the credits but otherwise it fit almost perfectly. I know a lot of people have been struggling to find subtitled links so I'm posting it here for ease of access.

every version of you

I have a work in progress right now, every version of you, that is a sci-fi multiverse story wherein Tobio, who feels he has both had and lost his chance with Shoyo, decides to go looking for a different world where they can be together. Along the way, he meets this Shoyo. He finds out they like camping. He finds out they smoke weed.

I commissioned @drawnbymabel to bring him to life because I love him, and because he's important to Tobio's story!

Currently on chapter eight; I anticipate two, maybe three chapters before we come to an end. So, if you're open to checking out a sci-fi WIP, it's waiting for you! If you're not interested in WIPs, maybe come back later. :)

Read it on Ao3.

— to the wind

teaching is hard. seeing izuku so distressed is harder.

word count: 2.1k

“knock knock.”

izuku sat, head in hand, at his desk. the windows in his classroom hung open, letting the cool breeze sweep through his already messy tufts of hair.

the distressed figure lifted his eyes to meet yours as you stood in the doorway of his class.

three years of teaching together and your routine had become pretty regular. coffee in the morning, passing each other in the hall as you somehow always took a bathroom break at the same time, lunch with the occasional shared grading, and the after school drama debrief until the custodians had to kick you out. high school kids always kept the stories coming to make an entertaining day for the both of you.

lunch was the current time. typically you would find him hanging on the door to your classroom, but instead, he sat ruggedly at his desk. a pencil shoved in his mouth to keep him from chewing his fingers.

izuku’s very obviously tired features lit up when he realized who it was that spoke from his doorway.

“oh, hey.” he responded with a drowsy demeanor.

this was different. and not a good different. as annoying as it was, you were typically the one shut up in your classroom, stewing over time consuming things like grades, itineraries, and everything else in between. izuku was the bright light that shone down on your horrid mindsets, bringing you back to a warm place, if even for a small time. you weren’t used to his personality being so…lackluster.

“you good?”

a long, heavy sigh travelled from his mouth and around the room, filling the already wind soaked air. izuku leaned back into his cushioned chair, pushing his hair back with a large hand. his restless eyes landed on the absolute mountain of paper in front of him and he drew his lips into a tight line. this was his way of communicating silently to you his very issue.

“i feel lost.” midoriya admitted hesitantly.

your feet moved on their own, taking you to sit crisscross on top of a student’s desk that was placed directly in front of his. like always, izuku now had your full attention.

“lost over what?”

he shrugged his shoulders haphazardly, his eyes still stuck on the papers strewn across his desk. this wasn’t a new sight to you or anyone else. izuku was notorious for keeping copious amount of clutter stashed away on his desk that already had limited space. with a brain that went as fast as his all day every day, he found it difficult to find the time to focus on cleaning a meaningless surface when he had countless other things to stress himself out over. but even this was over the top compared to the usual jumbled items.

“it’s just some grades, izuku. i can help you like usual. we can knock it out in no time.” you tried to reassure him.

when he shook his head in response, his stare still fixated on the pile, your stomach turned uncomfortably. midoriya was never one to decline an offer from you. especially because of the system you both subconsciously abided by. in times like this, if one of you offered help then typically the other would buy food, as a treat. after school dinners were a regular occurrence in your relationship.

“it’s not the grades.” his voice was low, “well, i mean, a little bit but, y’know.”

“i actually don’t know. you’re staring holes in those damn papers so i can’t really read you right now.”

your words snapped him out of the weird trance he had found himself in. the wind still blew lightly through his decorated class. the entire room screamed ‘izuku midoriya’. his personality was intertwined seamlessly with his own students’ personal flair. if you were still in school, izuku would have been the teacher you told your future kids about. maybe even been the teacher you thanked in your wedding speech.

the way you perched on the desk in front of his, completely enthralled with your concern for him, made his mouth run dry. even with your expression screwed up with confusion, he could still make out the features on your face that he had reluctantly grown to adore. not a single added wrinkle could deter him, even if that wrinkle was because of a face you directed at him. izuku could feel the guilt brewing in his gut.

“if i asked you something, could you be one hundred percent honest with me?” he asked.

“when am i not?” you responded nonchalantly, your chin resting in a propped hand.

the light chuckle that came from midoriya put your nerves at ease for a single moment. if you could give him an answer in hopes of never having to see him like this again, then you would gladly tell him whatever he wanted to hear.

“am i a bad teacher?”

silence permeated the warm room as you processed his question. in all the years you’d not only been his coworker, but his friend, the thought of him being a bad teacher never even made a shadow in your mind. years of stumbling over yourself to try and be a fraction of who he was as a teacher and a person made this question seem like the stupidest thing you’d ever heard.

“in what world are you a bad teacher?”

izuku crossed his arms onto his desk, leaning his head down as a way to hide from the world.

“what if i’m not doing enough?” his words seemed strained.

“izuku, what the hell are you talking about?”

had a student made a snide comment? maybe a rude gesture? the kids in both of your classes weren’t horrible but they definitely weren’t angels either. the idea of izuku overthinking a mean word from a high schooler seemed totally plausible.

“i’m scared that not a single word i say gets through to them. like, what if they walk out of here when they graduate, stupider than when they came in?” he asked, “not that they were stupid or anything when they came in, y’know, i’m just saying from a general standpo—“

“chill. you’re rambling right now.” you interrupted, which was something you had to do often.

another sigh left his mouth and he turned to gawk out the window. the trees were a beautiful shade of orange, but you weren’t looking at them. you couldn’t. not when midoriya was sitting right in front of you.

“i’m fucking terrified that i’m failing them.” he kept his gaze to the trees that danced in the wind, “i sit here and talk all day, which they don’t care about. grade their papers, which are scarcely up to par. am i doing something wrong? is there more i could be doing to make them want to be here?”

there it was; the classic teacher complex. you would be lying if you said you didn’t have these same aching doubts. any teacher that said otherwise was either perfect or a grade A moron.

“well first of all, you aren’t failing anyone. you’re a great person and an even greater teacher.” you slid off of the place you sat and walked to his desk, leaning on it carefully. you looked out of the window with him, your arms crossed tightly across your chest. “and second of all, those are all normal feelings. i mean, i feel the same almost seventy five percent of the time.”

he shifted his gaze to look at you, his eyes settling on the back of your head, staring in disbelief. he wished he could be as great at his job as you were. your tendency to connect with anyone and everyone brought a sense of jealousy to his mind nearly every day. although, he couldn’t pinpoint why. it’s not like he had trouble in that department.

he took things too seriously, gave himself a hard time over the smallest of things and overthought every situation. izuku was jealous of your ability to fly from the seat of your pants and say ‘fuck it’ if things went awry. granted, it wasn’t fun for you most of the time, but sometimes no plan is better than a strict step by step. this ideal had started to rub off on izuku after so much time spent together, but it was still a work in progress. he was just happy to have a part of you within his own personality at all times.

“yeah, but—“

“there’s no but. that’s just the way it is.” you cut him short.

a third sigh. this was the most exasperated you’d ever seen him. he stood from his comfy chair and leaned on the side of the desk with you. he admired the way the sunlight from the window perfectly complemented your features, outlining your natural beauty utterly and completely.

“you’re a fucking fantastic teacher. you can’t beat yourself up over things that are out of your control.” you turned to meet his eyes, “the kids are here and you’re guiding them. that’s all that matters. the mistakes you feel like you’re making in between won’t mean anything in the next year, let alone tomorrow.”

big green eyes stayed glued to yours, appreciation emanating from his pupils. you always knew exactly what to say, even if your words didn’t fall under the ‘advice’ category half the time.

you uncrossed an arm from your chest to rub comforting circles into your friends’ back. izuku’s muscles immediately loosened under your touch, the tenseness he’d held since this morning melting under your fingertips. he could never have a bad day, not when he knew you were just next door. not when he had the times he would see you written on a sticky note hidden in his desk drawer. after 3 years of faking a bathroom break just to take a glance at you in the hall, he knew you meant more to him than just as a coworker.

a smile sprawled across your face when midoriya gently laid his head on your shoulder with another large sigh. your hand traveled to play with the hair that grew from the back of his head.

“you hungry?”

midoriya nodded his head in response, humming softly as your fingertips lightly toyed with green tufts of hair.

“what did you bring today?” you already knew the answer, but you always asked anyhow.

“you’re actually never going to guess.” he lifted his head to look at you through his lashes.

“let me guess, anyway.”

izuku raised his eyebrows, as if saying ‘please do’ as he watched you feign confusion while you thought.

“hmm, katsudon?”

he shook his head, leaving your jaw to drop open in complete shock.

“you’re joking. since when do you not bring katsudon?”

“since i forgot my lunch at home this morning.”

maybe four other times had he forgot his food, and it was either because he woke up late or was already thinking so much the moment he woke up that his packed lunch slipped his mind.

“that kind of day, huh?” you asked.

“yeah. that kind of day.” he said, his head hung low.

you didn’t spare a word when you walked away from your spot on his desk, leaving the room quickly. midoriya watched after you, his eyes stuck to the door you just walked out of. everyday, he was thankful with how quickly you introduced yourself to him when you both started this job. neither of you could get through a day of teaching if it wasn’t for the other.

the wind caught your hair perfectly as you walked back in, bringing a stupid grin to his already awestruck face.

“tada! lunch is served, my kind fellow.”

there sat your all too familiar lunch box, open and ready to be emptied.

“y/n, i’m not going to to eat yo—“

“the bell is going to ring in 9 minutes and i’m starving. so you can either eat this with me or have your kids make fun of the noises your stomach makes when you’re hungry.” you pulled a chair around to the front of his desk, “you pick.”

a staring standoff that lasted for maybe 6 seconds, leaving you the winner, elicited yet another sigh from your coworker as he walked to his seat and plopped into it.

midoriya carefully eyed you as you brought out item after item, almost as if you packed extra just in case. you both took hold of the plastic forks you’d grabbed from the drawer of your desk. he could tell this was your way of comforting him, and you could tell this was his way of saying thank you. no extra words were needed when you could already read each other well enough.

“anything interesting happen yet?” you asked expectantly, forking a bit of your lunch into your mouth.

“june and lucas broke up.” he laughed out.

there was the man you adored. a smile plastered beautifully on his face as he happily told you about his day so far. you would never let that disappear again.

you listened intently to every word that came from his mouth, both of your shoes playing footsies under his desk.

a/n: okay yeah high school teacher izuku is perfect and hot but i’m about to write a book about elementary school teacher izuku because in my mind that’s literally my husband FAWWWKKKAHG