Latest Posts by storiestoobsessover - Page 11

y/n is giving it good to hawks rn i feel it

-> ​probably had him wake up to a really sappy sentimental card and coffee and he cries while reading it but hes still giggling bc he feels so giddy and loved and he's like

"wow starting off strong, huh?"

they have a slow start to the morning and y/n whispers to him everything they love about him and how strong and beautiful and human he is and hawks is so blussshhyyyy god he cannot take a compliment when he knows that it's coming from the love of his life and not kiss ass press/media !!!!! hes SO blushy and buries his face in the pillow and all he can do is attack y/n with kisses to get them to stfu before he explodes!!!!!

pls small might but in his hero costume ... hes so cute like that

I feel like I could’ve made it MORE baggy but here is the cutie himself. I do think it’s kind of silly he put it on to talk to AFO when it made him look like he was playing dress up lol but he can do no wrong so I support it

bro ur shinso smiski thing smau…….im sat, you cooked, it also inspired me lowkey… hear me out, friends with benefits but he’s down horrendous, like he feel first AND harder vibes, smau

⁀➷ FALLING | H. SHINSO

when shinso realizes he's falling for his fwb and hard

back | masterlist | next

omg the ua touya is so good him and hawks as students would be so cool :(( could u do a ua keigo friends to lovers maybeee??

happy keigo daaaayyy HEHHEHE + ua keigo moodboard bc thats my babbyyyyy

thick skull // hawks

wait okay blurb idea, we could all use more teenage keigo content on our tl’s so maybe like 17-19 yr old hawks showing the ropes to a new commission recruit bc the president asked him to? liKE THINK OF THE SPARRING/TRAINING SESSIONS !!

i've been thinking about this ever since you sent it in omfgnidosg

warnings: language as usual, general awkwardness, awkward first love (im sorry) reader has wing related quirk!

when you first met hawks, it was the first time the president had seen him speechless. it wasn't like he wasn't around the opposite gender, he trains with females and males an even amount. and you considered yourself pretty average looking-- nothing anybody would fawn or envy over.

the room was silent for a good couple of moments before he even opened his mouth to speak. madame president interrupted him before he could get any words out; "this is [y/n]. please give them a tour, then show them to their room."

she was always cold, ever since you had met her weeks ago. it's not like you expected a warmer welcome after being handed off, but still-- you can't help the curl of your lip in distaste after she dismisses herself, the plumage of green hanging behind you fluttering with agitation.

you've heard about hawks. even if you didn't want to, you always saw him around. on the outside, he was confident, cocky-- funny-- but the guy in front of you? awkward mess. it was endearing to see the veil melt so quickly the second the president leaves you in the room with him.

he stutters when he finally speaks. "hey."

the corner of your mouth lifts and you fail to muffle the chuckle that leaves your lips. "hey," you reply with a small wave of your fingers. your eyes fall to the side, your wings ruffle behind you. "after you," you add after a moment, your hand out in front of you to gesture for him to lead you out.

hawks doesn't talk a lot during the tour.

he has to clear his throat every time the two of you arrive to a new location, though it's obvious he's working through and trying very hard to control the stutter and shake of his voice. it's somewhat cute and endearing, though it creates a comfortable warmth in your cheekbones and a buzz in the base of your spine.

he is not smooth in the slightest when he shows you to your room. shifting feet in the same place, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck, blwoing at the one curl that falls in front of his eyes no matter what he does to push it back.

in the year that follows, the two of you become fast and close friends. he rises easily through the top ten and settles at number three while you're content where you're at in the lower twenties. you still meet for lunch sometimes and get scheduled for patrol with each other, but ever since the two of you were seventeen; you couldn't remember the last time the two of you got to train together.

just shy of your nineteeth birthday, hawks corners you just outside your office at the HPSC.

you hear the flutter before you actually hear him. "hey you."

you balance the small mound of paperwork on your hip, your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek. one of his feathers manages to lazily land on top of the stack in your arms, you only dust it away with a click of your tongue. "you've been busy."

he has. out on more missions lately, more patrols in highly crowded areas-- like the commission is sending some message about the two of you.

you lean on the wall outside your office, your wings flick lazily behind you. hawks always had a habit of pulling on them, taking a feather for himself just for shits and giggles, even if you do punch him for how much it hurts. you steal one for yourself in retaliation every time.

his hands are shoved into his pockets, and he doesn't quite meet your eyes. there's a faint twinge of pink across his nose-- he doesn't normally blush. by now he's more popular with the ladies, he's used to getting attention.

but this is you.

"i know your birthday's soon," his voice is just above a whisper, you have to lean in to catch the end of it. he leans away from you out of reflex, and the tint across his nose gets darker.

keigo's wings twitch.

ever since meeting him and being paired with him in training and having to be around him, you've gotten more perceptive to how his wings and feathers seem to talk for him. he's gotten better at controlling it in the year or so since you've first met him, but you know his tells like the back of your hand.

"repeat that again?" your voice is low as you tease him, the corner of your mouth lifts in that stupid little smirk that hawks finds infuriatingly attractive.

"your birthday is soon," he has to force out, his throat bobs as he visibly swallows. "i want to do something for you."

"oh!" you don't mean to sound so… stunned. but you're a little surprised. why would he want to celebrate your birthday with you? he refused to let you celebrate his.

"don't ask."

your mouth closes, cutting off the question on the tip of your tongue. you don't miss how his hands shake slightly when he removes them from his pockets, doing his dorky little finger guns-- he does that to alleviate awkward tension. it works just the slightest bit.

"i'll see you? i'll come get you, just wear something comfortable."

he doesn't let you respond. he's down the hall before you can get your vocal chords to make any sort of noise. his eyes catch yours before he turns the corner, however-- the flutter that's usually in your wings is now in your heart.

you can't help but smile. genuinely.

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

imagine overworking Hawks

keigo's real laugh is nothing, if not music.

there's a front keigo uses when it comes to other people—a barrier he wasn't even aware existed. his faux laugh was easygoing. it was short, and it was charming. he used it whenever he was talking to the higher ups or his colleagues. hell, he used it when he spoke to anyone. he's never been able to share the intimacy of a real laugh with another person before.

secretly, he was envious of those strangers he'd hear every once in a while. whether it was on patrol, or if he was just strolling into a coffee shop—ordinary citizens, people, humans, we're always laughing around him.

it could be huffs of air, odd squeaks or giggles—people with heaving chests, people chuckling, people snorting, people wheezing—but keigo knew a real laugh when he heard one.

which was odd, because he hadn't heard his own real laugh until you.

you're tucked into keigo's side, half awake and half asleep as you stumble forward. your eyes are barely open—and you're so drunk that keigo can already imagine the headache his poor baby is going to have tommorrow morning

"c'mon songbird, up up up."

he takes off your clothes and makeup, changing you quickly into your nightgown as you talk. you babble on about anything and everything that comes to your mind as he works—keigo kneels in front of you, smiling softly as he slowly unravels your dress and takes off your silvery shiny heels—he pulls on your nightdress, and grabs your favorite fluffy socks before tugging them up and over your feet

"kei baby," you whisper, and he glances up at you as he finishes taking off the last bit of your jewelery. he places your earrings into the little gold box you have on his desk as his warm hands wrap around your waist. he hums quietly as you suddenly place your palms flat on his chest, shoving him

he falls onto the bed with a soft oof! before sending you a confused smile

"shh...let me think, kei."

keigo folds his legs, amusement shining bright in his eyes as he watches you. your hair falls from its updo in wisps, framing your face as you stand in deep thought near the edge of your shared bed—hand on your jaw as you tilt your head

your smirk forms slowly. it's small, sly, silly and so drunk as you suddenly kneel onto the bed. you crawl towards keigo and fasten your knees on both sides of his hips—straddling him as he blinks up in surprise, not expecting your warm mouth to begin trailing kisses up his neck

sexy, is all keigo can think as a soft sigh escapes his lips. he's just about to kiss you back—when suddenly, you speak up.

"are you my appendix? because i have this funny feeling riiiight here that makes me feel like i should take you out." you whisper seductively, gliding his palm towards your tummy and under your nightgown

keigo blinks once. twice. before he stutters with his response. he tries to form even just one word—but he can't. and suddenly, he's falling apart—he's laughing so hard that he can't fucking breathe.

you blink in response, tilting your head adorably in confusion. you thought that was a good pick up line! but keigo's face is flushed for an entirely different reason other than being flustered, and his lips are stretched into a toothy grin. you're concerned for the lack of oxygen in his lungs when he's suddenly wheezing, and god, his eyes are shining with tears.

"oh-oh baby, i fucking love you."

you're slapping his arm, whining on about how he ruined the moment. but your tone—your very serious face while uttering the absolute worst pick up line keigo has ever heard has him struggling to breathe in his fits of laughter

but you can't even try to be mad. because keigo's eyes are crinkling with a rare show of genuine joy, and his hands are pressing you to his chest, and this laugh is so authentic—it bubbles all the way from his belly, so silly and so full of emotion that you can't help but giggle along with him

"it was good, right? are you feeling—heh, turned on?"

keigo's smile is breath taking. no wonder he's on so many magazine covers every month. finally—he leans forward, pressing his warm mouth against yours in a soft kiss as he cradles your face with both of his palms

"yeah, baby. never felt more hot and bothered... you know, 'm gonna marry you one of these days." he murmurs against your lips as you squirm in his lap

"nuh uh. who said i'll say yes?"

he laughs again. it's softer this time, and he maneuvers you carefully back into bed. you look like an angry kitten when you glare at him, but he only grins in response as he tucks you in—tugging the soft comforter up and over your body before getting into bed himself. he pulls you on top of him, gliding his hand up the back of your thigh all the way up until he's at the base of your spine

"you make me very happy, ya'know that songbird?"

you hum in reply, eyes already drooping close as your hold on keigo tightens just the slightest bit. his wings naturally fold to wrap around you—cocooning you in his hold.

he can see you're too tired to respond, your eyes are already slipping close when he presses a kiss onto your forehead

he admires you quietly, thanking the cosmos for allowing him to have this one good thing in life. you're drooling all over his shirt, and keigo wouldn't ever wish to have someone else laying beside him at night.

texts with husband!bakugou

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: mayhaps perhaps i should make one for todoroki as well

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

shoto who doesn't know how to show physical affection: he always clams up when it's touching time. it seems like he's running away from your love. it hurts your feelings big time, to be frank. but, wait! no, no, that's not it at all. he loves you, he cherishes you, he worships you.

even though his back is always pressed against yours at night rather than his arms tangled around you, he cares. despite his adversaries to intimacy, he cares. while he can't do much more than a hand-hold on a good day, he cares. he cares.

shoto who wakes up before the sun just to pack you a lunch for work. shoto who replaces the flowers in the vase on your bedside right before they start to wilt. shoto who's hands are in his pockets, but his eyes are always on you. shoto who spends his commute to-and-from patrols reading up on your interests and hobbies, so he can fully understand and sympathize with your adorable rants. shoto who pays for everything even though he doesn't have to. shoto who can't go shopping without picking up a "little something" for you. shoto who has a note on his phone filled with little things you've mentioned only once that you like or you want. shoto who makes time for you—"hero work is important, but not more than you." shoto who thinks you hung the stars, and who would hang them for you.

shoto who loves you his way.

Just had a revelation for a meet cute with kirishima.

PLEASEEEEE!!! BAKUGO DATING INSTAGRAM!!! PLEASSEEEEEEE🙏🏻🙏🏻

I HEAR YOUUUUUUUUU!!! tysm for the request :DD

DATING KATSUKI BAKUGO INSTAGRAM!

details!

instagram posts w/ comments while dating Katsuki Bakugo!

a/n OBVIOUSLY these are just pictures off of pinterest, reader can be however you imagine!

ooc bakugo (i choose joy and whimsy)

main m. list / instagram m. list

fairy.y/n · 15w ⭐ close friends

21 likes Liked by dynamight, pinkie, uravity.ou, izudeku

fairy.y/n me balling my eyes out cause my boyfriend cheated on me again :( (he said he'd stop after the last time I caught him.)

pinkie alright! murder party at Y/n-chan's bfs!! fairy.y/n pinkie its okay :( no need to murder him

izudeku im so sorry, Y/n. i hope you're okay and please let me know if you need anything fairy.y/n izudeku thank you, izuku :)

dynamight yeah you aint gonna hold me back from beating his ass this time. fairy.y/n dynamight katsss no. its okay, seriously dynamight fairy.y/n no idiot its not okay cuz he's cheated on your stupid ass 4 fucking times and you keep going back to him. every time you tell me not to beat the shit outta him but that bitch deserves it. fairy.y/n dynamight I know, I know but its so hard to leave him :( I don't get why he doesn't love me dynamight fairy.y/n you're such a dumbass. you need so much better than that sorry excuse of a boy. fairy.y/n dynamight idk if there is anyone better :(

fairy.y/n · 13w ⭐ close friends

19 likes Liked by dynamight, pinkie, uravity.ou, izudeku

fairy.y/n bf broke up with me, but luckily kats was able to distract me from feeling too bad <3 who needs cheaters anyways?!?!

dynamight making me look soft and for what... I'll kill you bastard fairy.y/n dynamight hmm somehow I doubt that. dynamight fairy.y/n lets go rn. fairy.y/n dynamight its past your bedtime :// fairy.y/n fairy.y/n WAIT IS THAT YOU STOMPING DOWN THE HALL????? fairy.y/n fairy.y/n KATS I WAS KIDDING. PLEASE!!!

pinkie bakugo having a heart was not on my bingo list urvaity.ou pinkie i think y/n-chan is an exception to his "GRRRR I HATE EVERYONE DIE BASTARDS!" you know? pinkie uravity.ou ugh ikkk you should see them in the gc 🤢🤢🤢 fairy.y/n pinkie we're literally normal in the gc :[ pinkie fairy.y/n hmmmmm I don't think so!! i sense a lot of flirting dynamight pinkie I'll fucking kill you fairy.y/n dynamight you're literally making me popcorn rn... you're not killing anyone dynamight fairy.y/n I hope you choke on a kernel.

dynamight · 12w

1.6k likes Liked by fairy.y/n, redriot, pinkie, serophane, izudeku

dynamight dumbass made me post this or wtv.

Tagged: fairy.y/n

fairy.y/n guys i literally WIPED the floor with him! redriot fairy.y/n didn't he punch you through a wall... fairy.y/n redriot next question, please!! :DD dynamight redriot her quirk stopped her from going through it. redriot dynamight uh yeah but the wall still cracked fairy.y/n redriot NEXT. QUESTION.

pinkie "im going to murder you!!" x "nuh uh." fairy.y/n pinkie I think these are direct quotes, actually

yourexboyfriend bro why the hell are you hanging out with her 😭😭 did the little loser need a guard dog after I broke her heart? 🥺 dynamight yourexboyfriend meet me outside rn. you're abouta need a guard dog after running your mouth like that 🫵🤣 fairy.y/n dynamight kats srsly don't worry ab it. I don't want you getting in trouble defending me dynamight fairy.y/n I wanna tho. yourexboyfriend omw to your dorm building rn, don't bother running.

fairy.y/n · 12w ⭐ close friends

20 likes Liked by dynamight, redriot, pinkie, denkami, jiroka

fairy.y/n his dumbass got bruised knuckles for beating up trash :(

pinkie whooo? 👀 uravity.ou pinkie i think you know...

dynamight the other guy looks way worse. fucking pos couldn't even land a hit on me. fairy.y/n dynamight well he's in the management course... I don't think they go over fighting tactics over there dynamight fairy.y/n whatever. it doesn't matter. either way, I wasn't gonna let him fw my girl like that. fairy.y/n dynamight YOUR GIRL??? pinkie dynamight YOUR GIRL????????? uravity.ou dynamight YOUR GIRL???? izudeku dynamight YOUR GIRL? jiroka dynamight YOUR GIRL??? dynamight OH MY FUCKING GOD YOU DAMN EXTRAS. I GET IT. STFU. fairy.y/n dynamight come to my dorm 😁😁 dynamight fairy.y/n ...omw.

redriot so manly...

dynamight · 10w

1.9k likes Liked by fairy.y/n, pinkie, redriot, serophane, shotodo

dynamight took her dumbass out on a date and she repays me by kicking my back.

fairy.y/n I DO NOT WANNA HEAR ITTTTT!! YOU LITERALLY TURNED AROUND AND PUSHED ME AFTERWARD 🖕🖕🖕 dynamight y/n.fairy yapyapyap fairy.y/n dynamight YOU INITIATED A FIGHT WITH ME AND A PRO HAD TO SEPARATE US. dynamight fairy.y/n I wasn't gonna actually hurt you fairy.y/n dynamight I know baby!! your love language is play fighting >:D there's defo a difference when you "fight" me and when you fight someone else dynamight fairy.y/n stfu. come cook some food with me. fairy.y/n dynamight comingggg (*cough* quality time *cough*)

pinkie they match each other's violent freak <3 fairy.y/n pinkie sometimes I'm overcome with so much joy I cant help but to punch him =^-^= dynnamight pinkie fuck off raccoon eyes.

serophane ayyyyy gg bakugo denkami serophane bakugo with the angry rizz 🙏🙏 dynamight denkami ill kill you both.

uravity.ou you better treat the loml right 😤😤 fairy.y/n uravity.ou dw ocha no man shall ever walk over me again 😤😤 (but I'm not at all worried with Kats) uravity.ou fairy.y/n AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

© https-milo. please do not repost, steal, copy, or modify my works!

Thank you so much for reading <3

fem hawks....

🙂‍↕️👍

this is so precious to me

“writing every day” otherwise known as waking up on day one, writing, deleting writing from the previous day on day two, and rinse and repeat forever

conversations with bkg pt. 2

the reason for the season

★…𝒃𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒈𝒐 𝒃𝒇 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒔 ! ❞

sum. part two of random texts with katsuki as your bf, see part one here

notes: katsuki being a good boyfriend because he’s been defamed enough, still can’t decide if he’s a lowercase baddie or not 💔

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

ProHero Bakugou x UA teacher reader (best friends to lovers)

Part 6

Your palms were sweating before you even walked through Minas front door Katsukis gift tucked neatly into your bag that you’d been gripping for dear life. Sleep never came last night, after reading Katsukis simple confession you couldn’t focus on anything else. He may have deleted the text from the chat, but you felt like it’d be burned into your brain for the rest of your life.

“Oh em gee! Merry Christmas love bug?” Mina squeals, her arms reaching to wrap tightly around your neck. She was wearing a Mrs. clause dress, and if you had to bet money you’d bet Kiri was wearing a matching suit. “You look adorable.”

Once a year you’d allow yourself to dress ridiculously in holiday cheer, wanting to feel the cheer you wore instead of dreading the day. Christmas wasn’t a holiday you particularly cared for, especially this year. Christmas just never felt like Christmas.

But today you decided you’d ignore the nagging voice in your head telling you to stay home and embrace the bright red candy cane stripped dress that matched your ruby painted lips. It was simple but effective. Candy canes mean Christmas enough, and if Mina approved you felt honored.

“Thank you, you look cute too Mrs. Clause.” You beam, pulling away to look past her to see the house filled with old classmates and strangers. “Quite the party Mina, how do you know all these people?”

“Mostly coworkers.” With a wave of her hand she leads you through the house, waving and greeting her guests as your hand aches from her grip. Once inside the slightly less crowded kitchen, she pushes you down onto a stool and places her hands on your shoulders to keep you from moving. “Now tell me everything, he’s in love with you?”

You knew she’d care more about Katsukis text than the party bumping around you, but you didn’t expect her to nearly be foaming out the mouth in front of everyone as she begged for details. It’s not like there were any to give anyway, you’d ignored his message while your heart beat painfully fast in your chest.

“We haven’t talked about it. He said he’s coming here, so I figured we would tonight.” Your fave twists in discomfort as your shoulders struggle to hold her weight that’s still pressing down into them. “Mina, ease up. You’re about to crush me.”

“When he gets here, you better forget the rest of us exist.” Her hands pull back, moving to rest on her popped out hip. “Just make sure you make him feel terrible for clocking you first.”

-

The next few hours seemed to blur together agonizingly, you didn’t speak to anyone and no one spoke to you. You hadn’t left your spot in the kitchen, crippled with anxiety knowing at any second you would be confronted with the reality of your feelings and have to come clean. Or at least that’s what you thought.

With every minute that ticked by, you felt yourself growing increasingly more disappointed. It’s been 2 and a half hours and he still hadn’t come to the party he said he’d be at. Instead your old classmates offer uncomfortable waves as they pass you in the kitchen, each time your heart dropping when non of them turn out to be who you’d been waiting for.

When the clock hit 1pm, you decided to call it a night and give it a rest. If he planned on showing up, it wouldn’t be an hour before the party ended, he hated parties but he hated being late even more. He’s not coming and you’d gotten your hopes up for no reason.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out.” Mina could sense the sadness in your voice as you pass her in the living room, but for once she couldn’t think of anything to make sense of the situation. He stood you up, and even to her it was obvious. “New years at my place right?”

“Yep! Me and Kiri will bring the champagne.”

The clock on your night stand read 10:28pm when you entered the darkness of your bedroom. Your limbs feeling like weights, dragging behind you as you make your way to the plush comfort of your mattress. All you wanted right now was sleep, and it was just seconds away.

Your exhaustion prevented you from caring about the heels still secured around your ankles, or the bag you land on with a thud. You looked ridiculous but the sad ache in your chest made you feel ridiculous. You’d been mad at him just days ago, now he was ditching you before you could even forgive him.

On the drive over you bit at your lip until it bled, the bitter taste of the iron pouring from the skin was the only temporary distraction you had from what was really bothering you. A thousand questions played in your head as you half paid attention to street lights and cheerful pedestrians. But one question in particular had bothered you more than the others, enough to cause your stomach drop and cheeks to flush.

What if he sent the ‘I’m In love with you’ text to you by mistake and he’d meant to send it to whoever he’d been ditching you for tonight?

-

A light brush against your ankle pulls you fearfully from your sleep. You’d been dreaming peacefully about a typical day at work, your students all giggling and laughing at a meme one of them had posted in the classroom discussion chat- but it was ruined by someone breaking into your apartment to- tickle your ankle?

“Hold still, I’m just tryna get these damn things off of you.” Relive replaces your previous confusion and fear, seeing Katsuki holding your foot delicately while working to undo your heels buckle. “Change into something warmer than that ugly ass dress, I’m gonna take you somewhere.”

“What?” Still half asleep, you let him slide the heels off and fall to the floor below. How could he expect you to follow his order after not showing up? “Don’t touch me.”

You felt overwhelmed, seeing him standing casually at the foot of your bed with an unreadable expression on his face as he stares down at your sleepy figure. You hadn’t seen him in an entire month, but now he was here, in you bedroom. Because he let himself in.

“You need to give me my door key back.” You huff when he doesn’t move. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Your gifts in my purse, take it and leave.”

Of course you’d originally planned to watch him open the thoughtful gift you’d gotten him in August, but you still couldn’t stop imagining him with someone else as you pathetically waited for him to show up. Was he holding her feet in his lap while they watched Jim Carrys Grinch? Or did she toss popcorn at his head as he dozed off every few minutes? Was he doing all the things you wished you’d been doing?

“Then you won’t get your gift.” He shrugs, watching you struggle to sit yourself up without flashing him. “You’ve been talkin about it so I think-.”

“I don’t care about a present! I don’t.” All you wanted tonight was to sort out this uncomfortable and hurtful pulling in your chest that hadn’t stopped in over a month. His gift meant nothing, especially when he didn’t even care he’d done it again. “You lied to me, again. You weren’t there, again. I waited for you for hours again.”

“Then you show up to my apartment and let yourself in. Not even saying sorry or trying to explain why you had me feeling stupid sitting by myself, fighting back tears because you were probably out with some fucking girl again.”

His eyes widen, not expecting you to disagree or confront his lack of attendance. It was sad, but you enjoyed watching his mouth mimicking a fish out of water, not knowing what to say to your half assed confession. Yes, you’d been waiting for him and yes him seeing another person while you waited made you burn with envy.

“I-I wasn’t.” Is all he says, earning a scoff from your chest. Like you’d believe him now, being blocked for a month and stood up the day you were supposed to see him? “I wasn’t, and I know why you don’t believe me- and I hate that I did that to you, but I can explain.”

“I don’t wanna hear it Kats.” Reaching into your purse that you’d previously been sleeping on, you grab his gift and reach it out to him. His heart sank seeing the way your eyes couldn’t meet his, but he takes the small wrapped gift nonetheless. “See you around.”

“I needed help, she took too long and I had to find somewhere last minute. I didn’t ditch you on purpose.” His hand runs through his hair that looked like he’d already been pulling at it, all while making things worse for himself. “I can’t even explain because you won’t come with me to see for yourself.”

“Shouldn’t you be asking her?”

“My mother?”

That’s how you ended up wrapped in the jacket he’d lent you the night he blocked you, shuffling across the parking lot behind him. You don’t miss the way he looks over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure you’re still there, and if you weren’t so cold you may have blushed. Angry at him or not, you’d grown to crave his attention, and after a month without it- it felt like foreign territory.

“The hag gave me shit all damn day, so keep that in mind.” He seemed nervous as he pulled open the passanger door, waving his hand to gesture you to enter. When you take your seat, you flush- the previously mentioned cold gone and replaced with a warm heat in your neck. “She spelled it wrong and I had to call around to find more and believe it or not almost nothing is open on Christmas.”

You can’t do anything but stare at the reason he couldn’t make the holiday party. Your chest bubbling with excitement and your heart about to explode and run a marathon all at once. It was never a huge deal to you, but clearly it was for him.

On the dash across from the passanger seat was your name, in baby pink letters followed by the words passenger princess.

“Why would you do that?” You finally ask, running your fingers across the letters in shock. This car meant the world to him, and he was ruining it by adding a tacky sticker? “E-even if it bothered me this is too much.”

“No, it’s not.” He closes the door, allowing you a few uninterrupted seconds of silence to process your thoughts. “You’ll never find another thing in this car that doesn’t belong to you or I.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal.” Even if you hated the earring falling into your lap so much you told Mina and felt sick. “It’s sweet, but it’s not necessary.”

“We’re goin to my office, buckle up.”

-

Neither of you spoke on the car ride to his agency, but you could sense he wanted to. His fingers wrung themselves around the steering wheel over and over until the leather had started to squeak against its thread and made your ears hurt. His posture had slumped dramatically, leaving him to lean against his door as he parks in a spot labeled with his hero name.

It was weird to realize in all the time you’d known him, not once had you been inside his office. You’d met him in the lobby, or in the cafeteria on many occasions, but his office had never been visited. Why was it significant now though?

“She’s with me.” Katsuki calls to a small woman sat in the lobby, her eyebrows pulling together as her mesmerizing golden eyes land on you. “Don’t log it, won’t be here long.”

“Why are we here?” You mange to ask, stepping off the elevator you’d just taken 17 stories. “Am I allowed to be here?”

“Yep.” Which was code for ‘nope’. His finger work quickly to type a code onto the small key pad before he turns to you and opens the door. It wasn’t what you were expecting, to say the least. He always had the biggest and best of everything- but his office was no bigger than your bedroom and only had his desk and a couch directly across from it. “Now ask me why a hero like Dynamite would be put in a random office the size of a closet when he’d been offered a penthouse room with floor to ceiling windows.”

“Uhm, the sun? Maybe? I don’t know?” You couldn’t think of a single reason why he’d choose such a random office if he’d always went on and on about the luxuries he planned for his future office. “Why?”

“You’re afraid of heights. We went to an amusement park one time in highschool and I never forgot.” The door closes behind you, and he makes his way to stand behind his desk, hand reaching for the two framed pictures on either side of his laptop. When he turns them, your heart races all over again. “I have two decorations in this entire room. I’ve been here for years and this is all I cared to have.”

The first photo was a picture of him and his parents at graduation, his cocky smirk playing at his lips as his parent smile proudly. You remember taking the photo and how his mother told you how beautiful you looked in your graduation dress. One that had been a gift from her son, he’d given it to you the night before with heat settling over the bridge of his nose.

The second one, the one that had your mind jumbling and palms sweating- was a photo of you. Not of the two of you together. Not even a group photo with your other friends present. It was just you. He’d taken the photo when he’d accompanied you to a farmers market, at the time you’d of sworn he hated being there, surrounded by all the things that brought you joy. But seeing the photo of you holding a bouquet of flowers with a peaceful smile- maybe you’d been missing his true emotions when he grumbled that you looked fine. When you asked him to send you the photo, he said he deleted it because it was blurry.

“I-I’m not sure what to say.” You were excited, flattered and even honored for him to have your photo on his desk. Knowing he saw it everyday made your eyes shine, and allow you to finally move toward him instead of by the door. “Do you want me to find you more decorations?”

You wanted to be sure you weren’t misreading, maybe he chose the room due to your fear of heights incase he ever needed you to bring him lunch or something. And maybe the picture was just a reminder of your friendship?

“Look, I know how you felt when I blocked you- but I had to give myself time to try to get over you.” He places the photos back in their respective places and joins you on the small couch. “The time I spent not in your life only proved to me I needed to be in it. Everyday I woke up and debated on showing up at UA and dropping to my damn knees in front of those brats just so I could get the point across.”

“What point?” You were holding your breath, ready to hear him vocalize the text he’d sent and unsent that had sent you spiraling. One of his hands settles in your lap, grabbing yours softly, the other moves to tilt your chin up to see his crooked half smile that made you dizzy. “Kats-.”

“I’m in love with you.” His hand on your chin drops, moving to rest on the back of the couch behind you. The other tightens around yours and pulls your interlaced hands to his lap. “I’ve always been in love with you.”

Your heart could literally give out at any second, you read his text but tried to convince yourself it wasn’t meant for you. Were you dreaming? Or was he actually sitting beside you with stars in his eyes?

“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t expect you to unpack all of this after everything I’ve done.” You nod, jaw on the floor as his thumb runs across your knuckles soothingly. “You’d always have a guy around, relationships or flings or what ever you want to call em. So I never said anything, I wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with me. I was gonna tell you that night, but when I asked if you enjoyed fuckin with me that night I watched you dancing and you said maybe it pissed me off and I snapped. I’m sorry, for all of it.”

“I said maybe because I did like you giving me your attention, but it wasn’t because I was trying to mess with you.” Did he truly believe you were capable of exploiting his feelings like that? Had you known you’d of never have acted like that. You were just jealous and angry and stupid. “If you’d have told me-.”

“I know, don’t start freakin out.” You were more than freaking out. Your hand would slip from his any second from the sweat pooling between them, you were crashing out. “Raccoon eyes got drunk and probably told me way more than she should have.”

“What did she say?” You’d had so many conversations with Mina about him you’d throw up if he knew half the things you’d said about him. He doesn’t seemed worried or bothered, so maybe she left out the parts that would humiliate you into hiding. “I actually don’t want to know.”

“Just, give this time to settle and we’ll talk about it in a few days.” His hand leaves yours, rubbing against his jeans as he stands to his feet. God that’s embarrassing. “Let’s go, I left your gift on your coffee table.”

“Wait!” He hadn’t even made it to the door, but you panicked. Did he not want to hear what you had to say about any of it? “Are you not curious about what I have to say?”

“If your friends an honest drunk- I’d say I have a pretty good idea.”

———

SORRY ITS SO LONG AND SORRY ENDING IS SUCK

I wanted to post a long blurb to apologize for the last one 😅

Also, unfortunately tags are closed for this story. It’s hard to tag so many and it’s part of the reason I’m updating slower, I have to copy and paste them 5 at a time and it takes like 30 minutes bc tumblr crashed 9million times when I do😭😭

I’m sorry and I love you guys 💖

-Parchy💖

———

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011. CARNATIONS

Mornings with you in the Todoroki household were mornings Touya never wanted to let go of. They were simple, they were intimate, they were romantic.

Every day was like an odd dream come true. Yes, his family tip toed around him like he was something delicate—something that'll shatter if they press their fingertips too hard against him. But Touya was like a bull, barreling through anyone and everything with that trademark grin stretched taut over his features

You woke up first most mornings with Fuyumi. She was a lovely person to start the day with, being friendly and sweet right as the sun rose. Everyone was quiet in the mornings, tired smiles and sleepy chatter was what breakfast sounded like. Soft.

The Todoroki household didn't get to have mornings like this—at least, not when Enji had been there.

Touya was always the last to stroll into the kitchen. He would stretch like a cat when he walked in—long arms perched over his head as he yawned. His hair was an absolute mess in the morning, and you always need to press your mouth against the rim of your mug to hide you smile

It stuck up in every direction—soft, ivory tufts curling and moving around him like a cloud. His shirt would lift a bit as he yawned, and you'd be able to catch a glimpse of his scars and abs flexing underneath his tee as he did—you'd snap your eyes away the second they caught sight of his happy trail peaking right above the waistband of his pants with burning cheeks.

Touya would slide into the seat beside you. A small, cheeky grin on his face as he rasped a casual good morning and how'd ya sleep? in your direction. There would be a boyish type of amusement swirling in his eyes if you ever did stutter with your response. Touya's teasing you and he knows it.

The rest of the day usually consisted of Touya hanging out with Natsuo and Fuyumi—both siblings had cleared their schedules, dedicating as much time as they could to Touya. Knowing he was in good hands—you'd take a step back and let them spend some much needed time with their brother.

Shoto was usually with you and Rei

There was still an invisible barrier he didn't dare to cross—and, well, no one was going to push Touya to bring Shoto with him. Shoto seemed perfectly content with watching his siblings hang out without him. If they were happy, what more could he ask for? He wasn't alone at home—he had his mother and you, a friend in the making.

Shoto liked you. A lot. He likes the way you think, he likes the way you talk—gently, softly, respectfully, with him and his mother. He could've never guaranteed a doctor that didn't have a personal bias to his family after the war, but they had all gotten particularly lucky with you.

He also thinks your the prettiest doctor he's ever seen—maybe just the prettiest person ever. It wasn't just on the outside, this prettiness. It was you, in and out. Shoto has never met someone so genuine. Someone so open and wiling—maybe you were naive for giving one of Japan's biggest criminals a chance—but Shoto will forever be grateful you offered Touya a hand when he needed it most.

"Why didn't you chose to become a teacher?"

Your eyes flick up from the letter you were helping Shoto construct for Touya, a little startled by his quick question before you smile. You were doing a wonderful job teaching Shoto how to construct this paticular letter for Touya—your patience was endless as the poor teen struggled to find the right words he wanted to present his nii-san with. And while you were helping him—you mention how you had a dream of teaching at one point.

"I have the education to become one, but—you know how life is, don't you Shoto? Unexpected things happen all the time. I think it was a split second decision, but I'm forever grateful I chose to become a psychiatrist." You grin, gently nudging his shoulder as he offers you a half smile

"So you teach Touya too?" He questions after a moment, and you nod with a hum

"That's....that's very nice of you."

Shoto wasn't very good at keeping a conversation flowing, but he was trying. You lead the talk from there—and he seems relieved you understood that he wanted to keep talking even though he had nothing more to say as he leans back in his chair, listening to you speak with a small smile on his face as he nods along.

It was Thursday today, your last full day at the Todoroki household. You and Touya would leave tomorrow afternoon, and the thought is saddening. Was it selfish to want to stay longer? It was hard getting all the supervisors and doctors on board with allowing Touya to leave the facility with no guards anyway—so instead of wishing for more, you focus on the present. Cherish it.

Eventually, everyone is back home within a few hours. Touya's smile beams as bright as a beacon after a day out with Natsuo and Fuyumi. Apparently, they had taken a drive and visited at all of Touya's favorite places in town.

Shoto had spent a few minutes asking Touya how his day was—what he ate, if he'd seen anything that had changed over the years—all sorts of little things. Touya was a bit short and clipped with his answers at first, but he warmed up to Shoto soon enough. How could he not when the poor kid was practically leaning off of his chair, hanging onto every word that left Touya's lips as he listened with a blank but frighteningly intense stare?

Of course Touya felt a little guilty asking Fuyumi and Natsuo to come with him and not Shoto—but Touya felt like any connection with Shoto would have to be formed one on one. He couldn't bring him along because that just wouldn't work. Touya needed to understand Shoto on his own.

The letters were working—Touya and Shoto had passed a few between each other over the last couple of days, and when Shoto presented Touya with another one right when he'd gotten home today—Touya had read it in the doorway with a small smile before offering Shoto an awkward fist bump

....Progress

You don't think you've seen Touya smile so much. He cries a lot too, but every tear shed is with a smile. He's so happy, you don't think he'll ever want to leave.

But even as the day to leave comes closer and closer, he doesn't seem upset. You and I will be together, was what he'd said when you asked him if he was sad to go back

I'll be happy as long as you're with me.

He had mumbled those last few words to you before his eyes fluttered close. He had a long today—fishing with his siblings, wrestling with Natsuo (and knocking over a very expensive vase in the process), all while ending the day talking for hours with you in the living room, reflecting over his trip and how he felt.

You're kneeling on the ground, back pressed against the couch Touya is laying on as your eyes trace over the dips and slopes of his neck. If you hold your breath quietly enough, you can hear the gentle thump of Touya's heart beating.

You didn't even hear Rei enter the room at first. Her feet were clad in socks as she padded in, and you were in a trance—mesmerized by the way Touya's soft lips moved in his sleep. He looked angelic even in his sleep—milky skin and pale hair. He was ethereal, really.

Rei sits beside Touya on the couch he was laying on, her hand moving towards his hair to card through the strands—she regards you with a soft smile, and you send her a shyer one in return

"Hi," You whisper quietly, cheek smushed against the cushion of the couch from where you sat on the ground as you brought your gaze back towards Touya. Rei bows her head quietly in greeting

The silence is filled by the crackling flames in the fireplace a few meters over from you all. It casts a blanket of gleaming gold over Touya's face. If you thought he couldn't look any more like an angel, you were mistaken. Because the glow of the flames highlights and sharpens his features, outlining him and licking his skin with its fierce shine

Sure, Touya had enough criminal charges against him to get a death sentence—but gosh, can't everyone else see the adorable dimples in his cheeks when he smiles?

You're trying to deny the feelings creeping up your chest—clawing at your ribs and simply begging to be released to find solace in his arms. You're smitten, head over heels, absolutely sick with nothing but a relentless, burning love for Touya.

"Thank you for what you've done for us, Y/n. You're a special part of our family now. I...can't picture Touya in my mind without you being right beside him."

You're snapped out of your daze when Rei finally speaks up—and the weight of her words sink into your brain slowly as you blink back tears. Her confession was quiet, but the truth in her voice was so raw. It took your breath away—and you sit in stunned silence before a small whimper escapes your throat. She used the hand that wasn't massaging Touya's scalp to swipe at the tears that rolled down your cheeks

"Thank you," You choke out, your voice heavy with emotion and wet with laughter as you lean into her palm. For a woman with an ice quirk, she was, surprisingly but pleasantly, warm.

Touya's chin trembles, just barely after you speak. But you catch the movement anyway—watching his lips settle into a wobbly line. Rei was too busy staring at you with round eyes to notice her son had been pretending to sleep the entire time she was playing with his hair

Touya wasn't trying to eavesdrop—he just thought his mother might shy away from playing with his hair if she knew he was awake.

Rei used to sneak into Touya's room when he was a child and do the same thing she'd been doing just now—she used to murmur apologies she wasn't brave enough to voice in the day while she scrubbed the salty remnants of tears that had dried on Touya's face. Touya went to bed crying more times that not, but Rei always snuck into his room late at night to try and ease the tension from his muscles.

Like a good mother would, Rei would massage the crease between his brows from furrowing too much, run her hands up and down his back—anything to try and help him. Little did she now her hands would lull that little boy to sleep every night.

Sometimes, Touya would get into fights with his mother on purpose just so she could come and hold him later at night. She'd often start speaking quietly to him thinking he was asleep, little I'm sorry Touya's and I love you, Touya's slipping past her lips.

Touya would always pretend to be asleep. But this time, he had accidentally intruded on a moment that wasn't meant for his ears.

Rei leaves after a few minutes, bidding you goodnight quietly as she heads upstairs and into her own room. You don't turn back to look at Touya until you hear the faint sound of her door clicking close

He's grabbing your palm, wrapping his fingers around your slender ones—intertwining his hand with yours

" 'm sorry." He mumbles quietly, a small smile on his face as he watched your hand practically drown in the grip of his larger one. He spread out his fingers, pressing your palm against his and admiring the way your fingers fit against his. It was like his hands were made to hold yours.

Out of all the destruction and heartbreak they've brung—they could bring love too. And comfort, and support—they could bring good.

He sits up fairly quickly, the blankets shifting beneath him as he sits up straight on the couch. You're still kneeling on the ground as he cradles your hand—playing with it. You wiggle your way between his legs, and he spreads his knees to let you into the gap between his legs. Your head falls onto the space between his thigh and knee, and he uses his free hand to curl a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You both stare as he plays you like a puppeteer would—moving your hands with his. He spreads your fingers, curls them, and runs the pads of his fingertips over your knuckles more times than you can count. He spends time tracing any birthmarks he comes across too, circling around them with his thumb and committing them to memory

"Touya."

He can't look up. Touya presses his eyes closed, he can hear the unspoken question hanging in the air. The uncertainty, the doubt, the pending guilt. He hears it all—a thousand words spoken but not a sound passed between the two of you.

"I love you,"

Your hand goes still in his

"I love you Y/n. I love you so damn much. Like—it's bad. My whole fucking world revolves around you. You saved me, I thought I was done for after the war. I... I was gonna end it. End it all. I wish I could've met you sooner, and I wish I wasn't an absolute mess when we did meet, but—but Y/n, we work. We work, right? You're perfect. You're—fuck, everything I'll ever need and everything I'll ever want—you mean it all to me. No one can replace you. Do you understand what I'm saying? I fucking love you."

You thought you could hear his heartbeat before—but now, you can hear it slamming against his ribcage. He splays your palm over his chest, and it's like his heart is in your palm—if you squeeze your eyes shut hard enough, than yes—you could feel the blood oozing over your fingertips and down your wrists as his heart beats underneath your death grip. Because Touya just ripped his heart out of his chest and gave it all to you.

He leans down to cradle your face in his palms, which in turn means you have to tilt your head up to meet his lips. It's salty. The tears streaming down your face connect at your lips, but Touya licks them away

His kiss isn't perfect—this is his first kiss, after all. But Touya has never put more of his soul into anything else. It's a little desperate and there are moments when you laugh into his mouth with how clumsy he is as he pulls you onto his lap—but Touya's heart is bleeding everywhere and you're collecting the blood like a drain, taking all he had to offer and accepting ever fault and flaw

I love you, he mumbles against your lips. I love you I love you I love you—and suddenly, it's not his voice speaking the words anymore

It's yours.

His eyes are wide, like his ears have betrayed him. Like you kissing him back didn't already confirm how you felt about him. He swoops back in again, smiling against your lips as he presses soft kisses all over your face

You close your eyes. He kisses you everywhere. Your chin, your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids, your forehead—honoring the face he had come to love so much. Honoring the features that he would never forget—forever forged into his soul.

His advancements end with you pinned against the couch—and Touya feels dizzy as his forehead knocks against yours. He settles his weight around you carefully, near panting as he cradles you to his chest

He needs a second to collect his breath.

Your lips are tinged red from all the times he'd gently sunk those sharp teeth into the soft flesh of your lips, trying to taste you and feel you and God—you felt better than any daydream his mind could ever conjure.

"We're gonna get in trouble." You whisper, pawing at his chest. You feel high—it didn't happen, you didn't kiss him, it's not—

He kisses you again. It's soft, it's slow, it's sensual—and he pulls away after a brief moment

"Just...just us right now." He mumbles, kissing you again. Again and again and again. It takes him another twenty minutes to lead you to his room

Your soft giggles were the only sound until the door clicked close. He still held you up in his arms, your ankles locked together behind his back with your legs wrapped around his strong waist. He drops you onto the soft heap of blankets and pillows of his childhood bed before crawling in after you

For you, the next few hours the two of you spend huddled under his blanket in each other's arms were the absolute best.

Touya outlines all of your face's features once again, but this time—he tells you why he loves every single one so dearly. He tells you how when he was sixteen, he dreamed of becoming a father one day. He tells you how every night since he met you, he only dreams of one thing over and over again—you you you you, it's all you.

You tell Touya how you've talked to your cats about him—this gets a loud laugh rumbling from deep within his chest, one where his eyes twinkle in the moonlight as he smiles against your skin—you tell him how you've never been in love before, and how you like the way his bangs fall in front of his eyes when his whole body shakes with laughter

You tell each other all the things you wouldn't have dared to voice back at the hospital—maybe it was the new domestic setting the two of you were thrown in that egged you on. But it didn't matter. Not right now, at least. Because Touya was finally kissing you, finally opening and revealing the last bits of himself to you—stripping his heart and mind bare and succumbing to your sweet, gentle mercy.

Touya loved you, and you loved him. That was all that would ever matter at the end of the day.

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

a/n; merry christmas and happy holidays!! :)) i really hope you guys liked this chapter 🥺 their first kiss + my posting schedule aligned PERFECTLY with christmas. so, this is my christmas gift to all of YOU lovely readers!! also i just wanna note (this is not written but its CANON) that y/n was telling her cat abt touya after meeting him for the first time and they were looking up at her like :O as she babbled on and on for a freaking hour. like "he is sooo handsome. the timeless type of of handsome. the CLASSY type." "but he's kinda sassy" "and an ass." "but that's okay! we'll work on that!!" and as alwayssss, thank you SO much for reading. I LOVE YOU ALL STAY SAFE AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! 🩷🩷🩷🩷

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Denki smau he works at your favorite small pizza place and he specifically switches with waiters whenever you come in to shamelessly flirt with you! He finally asks for your number

pizza dates

d.kaminari

-in which he works at your local pizza place, and your his favourite customer.

ochako gets so aroused whenever you talk her through sex it doesn’t even matter what you say…. the sound of your voice makes her so wet it’s enough to push her over the edge…… my god

it's always so fascinating and heartbreaking when a character in a story is simultaneously idolized and abused. a chosen prophet destined for martyrdom. a child prodigy forced to grow up too fast. a powerful warrior raised as nothing but a weapon. there's just something so uniquely messed up about singing someone's praises whilst destroying them.

just sink your fangs into my neck, man. it won’t be weird. i promise

if all else fails, i was myself

bakugou x reader ✾ 4.6k

info! no smut sorry gang ✾ tw! trust issues that manifest as issues w physical intimacy/contact, dubcon in its vaguest definition (NOT bkg & reader) ✾ notes! ive been in perpetual writers block for months. is this trite idk. i miss my baby but anytime i write for him im like oops this is gonna be 60k words!!! so here is. a drabble lmao. also big lmao moment this is titled after count me out by kendrick lamar ldskfjdlkjf which was on repeat while writing so uh sorry mr. lamar abt the mha fanfic

katsuki has always known that part of him is wrong.

he’s never liked being touched. every kiss he’s experienced has made him tense as an elevator cable poised to snap. any attempt to go further than that has made him a little ill, made his gut feel like a stack of loose papers being torn to shreds, slow and loud.

it doesn’t help that he’s only ever had three kisses in his life: eijirou at a new year’s party (too many teeth), eijirou again at another new year’s party nearly a decade later (too much tongue), and then his fourth date with kyoka (when he tried to convince himself he just had to push through the discomfort to become normal).

things went further than that. it was a mistake. they both knew it right after it happened—kyoka first, and then katsuki after his head stopped pounding with what if i'm doing this wrong what if she's pitying me for fucking this up what if i don't know how to touch another person correctly what if i was supposed to learn at some point and i missed it how could i fucking miss it will it always be like this because i can't do this again i can't i don't—

“kat," she said after. she looked at him with something only a few degrees removed from pity, and poorly removed at that.

he attempted a halting non-apology. he attempted a real apology. failed at both.

"it's okay, you know," she said. "to not like it."

he scoffed even though he wasn’t entirely clear on what she meant by it, because there was so much he didn’t like. “i like it just fine.”

“if that was liking it, I’m honestly worried about your capacity for enjoying life in general.” it wasn’t a joke. her bluntness was something that'd made katsuki think he could push his boundaries with her. all of her thoughts were laid out plain for him to read, an open-source journal. “i'm just saying you don't have to like it. and you don’t have to force yourself to do things you don’t want to do. don't fuck yourself over for someone else's happiness.”

kyoka still texts him often, checks in, invites him to drinks with their friends. she’s kind. she’s normal. she doesn’t have this weird, shredded thing inside her that makes her balk at the idea of someone’s hand on her skin. that makes her think she's doing something wrong, even if she's not the one that initiated the touch.

when you started your job at the front desk of katsuki’s agency, he never thought that he'd be here, wishing above everything that he could just be normal. just for one fucking day, so he could laugh at your shitty jokes and maybe brush his knuckles across the back of your hand in passing and take you on a date where he could kiss you in his car after driving you home and the thought wouldn’t make his skin crawl, wouldn't tear up his insides to pulp.

because he fucked everything up. he's standing in his empty office where you'd been spending time with him and he fucked it up and hurt you and he's not sure how to unfuck it.

the thing is, he could grin and bear it. he could deal with the odd thing inside him that hates the contact and white-knuckle it through every kiss, every caress. but he’s never been a great actor. he wouldn’t be able to hide that from you.

(kyoka told him, years later, that it’s not that the sex itself wasn’t fine—what made it nearly unbearable for her was the fact that she could tell, only after it was too late, that being physically vulnerable with her pained him far more than he was willing to reveal.)

no one wants to feel like the person they’re with is grinning and bearing it. that they’re white-knuckling it through. katsuki knows this. he knows he’s basically a fucking virgin all but in title at thirty and that he’s got the personality of a dried-out fig you find in your fridge weeks after its last edible moments. he doesn't have much to offer.

but he walked into work one day and nodded at you, curt, a grimace on his face—and you smiled at him so kindly that his stomach twisted.

with you, it wasn't the feeling of something being torn apart. it was different, lighter. leaves wrenched into the sky by a strong breeze. still a kind of tearing, but different—less destructive.

he was wearing a deep carmine sweater his mom sent him in one of her bi-monthly care packages (as if he’s not an adult, and a pro-hero on top of that), and you said, “that’s such a nice color on you. is it new?”

there was that breeze inside his chest, strong, pulling at his bones. “yeah,” he grunted. then slowly, as if remembering how: “thanks.”

it was the attention, he thought at first, that piqued his interest. he wasn't used to it. people always watched him from afar, and he had fans online that were borderline obsessive, but people didn’t approach him. they didn’t say that’s such a nice color on you. they didn’t smile the way you smile.

he’s always had a shallow streak. it’s not like he doesn’t know this. it’s become a little muted over time, a little discouraged by the visible scarring on his face and body from his time in the field, but it’s never fully been eradicated. so it was simple, he thought. you paid him attention and stroked his ego, and he preened like a self-obsessed bird of paradise.

and then you started making these little origami whale sharks.

fucking stupid. it bothered him an annoying amount. you had a bunch at your desk, all different colors and sizes, some taped to your desktop monitor, some hung up with little pieces of string under the desk's storage overhang. you drew dots on the back of each one, a distinct spotted pattern that was unique for each shark. and you made them for everyone but him. eijirou bought you a pack of high quality origami paper and you made him his own fucking school, all with little faces, winking or surprised or angry, their wide paper mouths gaping and empty, the lines of their bodies pressed careful and sure.

he hated it. it was annoying and a waste of company time and he usually didn’t ever use dumb corporate slogans like “a waste of company time” but you were really pushing his fucking limits.

it was definitely just the attention he liked, he told himself, because surely someone doing something as dumb as this would annoy him to no fucking end if he spoke to them.

and then he spoke to you and he was wrong.

he asked why you made the damn things in the first place and you told him, “i like whale sharks. but to be totally honest, i just run out of things to do."

and he saw that as a challenge. you were running out of things to do? rest assured he could find more shit for you to take care of. so he did. tasks that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, they were so dull and time-consuming. and you were so achingly competent that it drove him up a fucking wall. you completed everything he asked of you in half the time it would take someone else, and you always reported back with a smile, and you always did good work, and he could see himself having a conversation with you about something other than work but he didn't want to try because he was worried he'd begin to like you as a person.

you're pretty. really fucking pretty. he can see that now, and he sure as fuck saw it then. you're hardworking. you're just likeable, and that's something katsuki had never been. it (reluctantly) impressed him. worse than that, it turned his feelings for you into a sort of interest.

but he knows he's not normal when it comes to things like this.

he tried to distance himself from you because of it, but it turns out that asking someone to do work for you means you do have to speak to them sometimes. and sometimes turned into a lot of times.

sometimes turned into bringing him coffee in the morning, not because he asked you to, but because you're sweet like that. sometimes turned into being the person he bounced ideas off of when he had a board meeting coming up or something otherwise boring and meticulous. sometimes turned into you laughing at his prickly comments rather than going quiet because of them. turned into you saying suck it up, dynamight, this is what it means to be the boss when he complained about doing paperwork.

sometimes turned into staying late with him at the office, getting take out for the two of you to share while you finished filing claims and damage reports and other stuff he hated taking care of by himself. sometimes turned into him asking you to stay late just because he wanted you there. because even when he was quiet, you'd tell him about your day, about things that happened in the office, about how much you like the book you'd both been reading. he loved listening to you talk. felt comfortable enough to tell you things about himself when he'd never felt comfortable doing that before.

sometimes turned into you holding out a piece of fried tofu from your take-out container for him to eat while he was approving time-off forms that he should have looked at much earlier that week, and you being so close that he could notice how good you smelled, and the warmth of your body basically radiated towards him, like all your energy was focused on him, and your smile was small but somehow even more lovely than usual, a secret for him to tuck away and keep, and when you finished feeding him and he had a little sauce on the corner of his mouth and you reached forward to wipe it off for him and your hand lingered there for a moment and your eyes fell to his lips and what if you try to kiss me and i'm wrong and you hate me for it and what if i can't give you what you want and what if i'm not actually what you want what if i've disappointed you already what if—

it was too much.

so he fucked it up. your thumb was so soft against his skin. he reeled backwards in his chair, rolling it whole feet clear of you, and he felt the tearing again, the bad kind, like paper unevenly shredded by clumsy hands, and he had to leave. he had to leave. he needed to leave so badly that it felt like pulling his skin off would be preferable to being in that office with you.

hiding in the bathroom was fucking pitiful. he remembered his breathing exercises. he remembered to ground himself. and when he came back to his office, you were gone.

if he was normal—and he wants to be normal, god fucking damn—he could have stomached your proximity. he could have eaten out of your fucking hand. he could have touched you back like a normal person probably would have and he wouldn't be here, alone, looking at a little purple sticky note you left him that says i finished organizing the pto forms. i hope you feel better!

he doesn't know whose pride you're trying to save with that. as if you didn't leave because he made things so fucking awkward by running away from you when you touched him. when you—maybe, if he was reading the room correctly—were about to kiss him.

and you don't speak to him for days. he doesn't want to push so he doesn't—just watches you out of the corner of his eye whenever you're both in the same room, which is arguably worse. he's not sure. he's just itching to fucking talk to you because he misses it.

he misses you. in a more-than-friends way.

it takes a while for him to realize this. when he does, it hits him like a metal rod up the side of the head. it's fucked up of him to miss you the way he does when he doesn't feel like he can provide you with the things a normal person could. and though he's worked on his patience over the years—worked on understanding that he can't have everything he wants—it doesn't stop him from being selfish and finally pulling you aside to talk.

and baffling as fucking ever, the first thing you say is sorry. "i know i should've talked to you about it earlier. i just—i shouldn't have done that. and i know it. i shouldn't have assumed that—i don't know. that you..."

you look helpless. it's one of the very few times that katsuki has ever felt the compulsion to touch someone. not because he wants the touch, per se, but because he wants to be able to provide comfort. he never figured out how to do that with words. he's so focused on his inability to comfort you that he barely has any idea of what you're actually talking about. instead of doing anything at all, he just stands there like a fuckwad.

"i just want you to know that i would never—like never—have touched you, or tried to... if i didn't think there was like, a vibe?" you shake your head, exasperated with yourself. "god, even that sounds so bad. i'm sorry, i just—"

"wait, what are—?" and then it clicks, because he's been slow on the uptake figuring out his shit when he should have been focusing way more on yours. "there was..." katsuki says, and he fucking hates that he can't find better words for what you were both feeling in his office, "a vibe."

the way your face changes when you're flustered is one of katsuki's favorite things, but it's not as enjoyable when he feels just as flustered as you look. "i—oh? so... so you—?"

his ears feel like they're being attacked by two heated straightening irons and he knows they're red as hell right now. he's gonna have to say this plainly even though he'd rather get his teeth pulled out one by one with a pair of pliers. "it's not you."

your expression loses any sort of hope it once held. you press your lips together and sigh, maybe a little exasperated. he's doing his best here but he knows his best is shit. "i can handle a non-cliché rejection," you tell him. "honestly, i'd prefer a non-cliché rejection—"

"i'm not trying to reject you," he says, and it's selfish of him. because he's really not. he isn't comfortable with the things you'd want from him, but he still wants you in some capacity. "i just don't—do shit like that."

"kissing?"

somehow knowing for sure that you did want to kiss him in his office makes him want you more. he likes that you're bold. he likes that you're not ashamed of that. he wants to be different than he is. "any... of it," he struggles to admit.

"at all?"

he nods.

"just—like touching, and stuff?"

it sounds so juvenile that he can't help but laugh through his nose, roll his eyes. "yeah. touching and stuff."

"oh."

you're disappointed. of course you are. it's not like he expected anything different, but—sometimes he fucking hates his life. hates that he can't be the thing people need him to be. hates that trying is so difficult, that it flings his stomach into space, like a throwing stone skipping across a still lake.

"so you don't go on dates, or anything."

"haven't tried."

"do you not want to?" you ask, and he can tell it's more of a genuine question than anything. you're curious about him, like you always are. it's more than he deserves, for all he can offer.

"doesn't make sense to."

"that's not what i asked."

it's not. and so katsuki listens as you ask your question again, and he really takes a moment to think.

considering the answer to your question leads him to his first date with you. and his second, and his third—his fourth, and he's keenly aware that his last fourth date ended with what he expects all dates are supposed to end with.

he takes you to the aquarium. because of all the fucking origami whale sharks. you still haven't given him one and it sticks in his craw like a bone. in front of the backlit tank that holds sharks of all types, shapes and sizes and teeth he's never pictured possible of a living creature before, he asks, "why sharks?"

you look at him, brow raised. "i don't know. they probably needed the biggest tank in the aquarium. and this looks like the biggest tank."

"no, dumbass—your sharks. the ones all over the fuckin' office."

"what, you don't like them?" you ask, but you're smiling, sly.

he shrugs. he thinks they're dumb as hell. he wants one to hang up at work, like the ones you've got hung up at your desk. "they're whatever. they clutter the fuck out of ei's office. and he's already got issues organizing." you've just made eijirou so many at his point, and it's getting ridiculous. "but what—are they easy to make, or something?"

you laugh a little. "no. not at all, actually." a whale shark swims by, its spotted hide shimmering in the tank's eerie blue lighting, and you watch it intently. "but it'd be boring if it was too easy."

this date ends with him walking you home from the aquarium a few blocks from your apartment and you smiling at him and telling him that you had a really great time, and he feels like a fucking freak because you don't even expect more. you don't wait for a kiss. don't look disappointed that he doesn't try to give you one. the way you look at him holds so much affection that he doesn't deserve and he has no idea how to reciprocate it to you, and somehow he lands on, "make me one."

"one what?" you ask, but he thinks you already know what he's asking. you like to play coy. he likes it when you play coy. when you're enjoying yourself.

"one of your little fuckin' paper things," he mutters, because admitting that he wants one of those dumbass sharks feels somehow demeaning. he doesn't want you to know how much he's wanted one. "ei's got a million of 'em."

your hand was on your door handle, but it falls to your side. he's keenly aware of its proximity to him. he doesn't feel that terrible ripping in his gut and its absence is almost frightening to him. your fingers tighten into a fist. it's cold out. "ah, and you're jealous?"

"no," he says, knee-jerk. "i just don't get why everyone gets one but me."

you smile when he says this and he could live in this image of you, delicate and small and made for him. he goes home and thinks about it until he falls asleep. thinks about it even beyond then, feels that strong breeze inside him tearing every leaf from its grounded perch.

here's the thing—nothing against jirou, but unlike his other fourth date, this one was enjoyable. more than. he loved watching you be amazed by the size of the whale sharks, and he loved watching you put a bunch of coins into the penny press and cranking the machine until one was squeezed out into the pattern you wanted, and he loved watching you lay your hand against the glass where the rubbery wings of a flood of stingrays battled for your attention, and—

he loved watching you. that's weird, right? he sounds like a fucking lunatic thinking that.

but he does. he hadn't realized until now how difficult it had been not only to touch people, but to look at them. maintaining eye contact, watching someone do a simple task out of interest instead of staring them down in an attempt to intimidate them. he's so much more fucked up than he thought but what makes it bearable is that he can do it with you. he can watch the way you enjoy things and feel like he's not intruding on something he shouldn't. without even trying, you make him feel welcome—wanted.

that's it. you make him feel wanted.

the realization affects him in a way he doesn't understand. at work the next day, when you smile at him over the top of the front desk, he feels something incredibly strong—something like instinct—that tells him to touch you. small. a thumb brushed across your cheek. his fingers grazing yours. he wants it in a way that can't be right because he's never wanted to touch someone like this.

he doesn't do it, but he thinks about it all day. your little smiles when you notice him watching you on your dates, the way your fingers graze your lips when you cover your laugh, the softness in the way you regard him. you're quiet, reserved, but when you laugh you laugh hard. he wants your soft, your quiet and your loud, he wants the feeling of your fingers on his lips, he wants your smallest smiles, all things he wishes he could fold up and keep and later display somewhere he can always see them. a school of paper fish, gaping mouths and drawn-on spots and such carefully pressed lines.

so on the eleventh date—(he knows it's ridiculous to count, but he's never spent this much time with one person before, not like this)—he reaches for your hand when you're walking alongside the bay, the air turning cold in the wake of the sunset that the two of you had just witnessed. that's romantic, you'd teased when he asked you to watch it with him. he'd rolled his eyes, shrugged you off.

but maybe he wanted it to be romantic. maybe he wanted to make this as normal as possible for you because nothing has been normal between the two of you so far.

you pull back when he reaches for you, as if on instinct. look up at him, confused, when he reaches out again. "katsuki..." you say, and it sounds as if he's done something wrong.

he tries not to let his brain spiral but thoughts drip inwards. water meeting a dented hull. what has he done this time? what else has he fucked up by being fundamentally wrong?

"you know..." you start, and you lose your words.

he thinks of kyoka, years ago. it's okay, you know. to not like it. he wonders if you'll still text him like she does.

your lips pull into a frown before you speak and katsuki can't breathe. "i was never gonna ask on my own because i know you don't like talking about things like this if you don't bring it up. but—um. katsuki—do you think i expect something from you?"

"huh?" he asks, dumb. breathing is still something he fails to do.

"i know that this is—different. i know you have some things going on that make the physical part hard for you." you look up at him so earnestly, and he loves looking at you. he loves looking at you and doesn't want to have to stop and he's worried that this is it. the moment he'll have to stop. you try to smile and it's small and he wants it all for himself. careful. delicate. secret, for him. "i'm not gonna lie to you. i don't know what a relationship without that kind of stuff looks like. but that doesn't mean i'm not willing to find out. it's—i don't need you to try to do something you think i want you to do."

"i'm not."

"it makes me feel a little sick, kat. honestly. it makes me feel like, i don't know—like i'm taking advantage of you, or something—"

"you're not."

"you don't have to do things like that to keep me around." you look flustered, eyes darting from his face to the skyline. "if you want me, i'm—you know."

it's okay, you know. "i don't know."

"i'm yours," you say, and cringe immediately at your words. "or like—i could be, you know, kind of whatever you wanted, if you—if that's what you want. would want."

katsuki can only remember a few times when his head was this quiet in the presence of someone else. when he trusted someone enough to let his mind go blank, to let himself act on instinct. "can i kiss you?"

you sigh. "this is what i was saying. i don't want you to—"

"no," he says, quiet, and he's closer to you than he's ever been. he likes the way you smell. he's not gonna apologize if that's weird. "i just want—god, i feel pathetic asking again. can i just—?"

just, just, just. just a touch, just a kiss, just a moment of your fucking time—it's all he wants. and he's never wanted like this. he's never trusted like this. his head has never quieted entirely because he's so sure that he's not going to disappoint you, or be something you don't actually want, or be wrong.

you've shown him that he can't be wrong with you, regardless of whether or not something within him is broken.

your lips are warm, a little chapped from the dry air, and he tries to remember what kissing chastely is but it's like something breaks in him further the second the two of you touch. his hands are cradling your face, his tongue is gliding against your tongue, his teeth are clacking against your teeth, and he knows the kiss is bad and wrong and messy but he suddenly needs it. he needs to feel you.

you make a noise against him and worry slices into his stomach before he realizes it's a quiet, breathy moan, and maybe you've been okay without the touch but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy it when you receive it. he can tell he hasn't made his boundaries clear enough—your hands circle his wrists, too cautious to go further, too hesitant to grip him like he thinks you want to. like he wants you to want to.

his teeth hit yours again and you laugh, and he pulls back, stomach tight. there's a hope in him that's ready to be torn.

you see it in his face—the fear. "i love kissing you," you blurt out, as if it's the only reassurance you can think of in the moment. "i mean—you're just." you laugh again, and he realizes it's nerves. you're just as nervous as he is. "can i—can we go somewhere warm? and maybe do this more? or—if this was enough—"

he's pulling you towards his apartment before you can get another word out.

kissing you is easy because you make him feel like it's relatively new for you as well. maybe that's how it feels for everyone every time, but he wouldn't know. he just feels comfortable with you. like you're not so much better than him, like you're not waiting to laugh at him when he fucks up, like you're touching him because you really want to.

so he takes you to his apartment and puts you on his couch and kisses you until your back is against the armrest and he's looming over you and you feel comfortable enough that your hands stray from his wrists to his shoulders to his hair and he didn't even know touching someone could feel like this.

put aside the fact that he's nearly finished in his fucking jeans three times just from your fingers running across his back, from the way you cup his cheek when he pulls back for air because he keeps forgetting to breathe—just having you close is intoxicating. he wants to bury his face in the curve of your shoulder, he wants to bite marks into your skin that'll stay vibrant for weeks, he wants to etch himself into you so deeply that he doesn't have to leave. these wants aren't even sexual—it's something about having you be his. i'm yours, you'd told him, and he hadn't even known that it would be exactly what he needed to hear.

he's in love with you, which isn't shocking to him, but he knows he shouldn't be in love with you yet because people that aren't fucked up in the head don't feel shit like this so quickly. he's not gonna tell you this for a very long time, but he knows—so completely and confidently—that he will reach a point when he can tell you.

"you sure you want this?" he asks, breathy, between kisses.

you stop kissing him, brows raised in surprise. "katsuki, we don't... this is a lot for one night. we can take it slow, still."

"that's—i'm not talking about that." he gives in, then—lets himself bury his face in the crook of your neck, lets himself breathe in deep, lets himself find your hands and intertwine your fingers, and you can probably feel that he's hard as fucking metal for you but that's not what's important right now. it sure as hell makes it awkward to try to have a serious conversation, though. "you sure you wanna deal with all... you know. my stuff."

"are you sure you wanna deal with all of my stuff?" you counter, and he pulls back to look at you. kissed rotten and smiling. "of course i want to deal with it. i like you."

and he likes you too. god, he likes you so fucking much.

the next morning, long after you've left for home, he finds a little orange whale shark hidden behind the alarm clock on his bedside table, stars in the place of eyes, and the trace of you is enough to make him feel warm. to hope that over time his apartment becomes full of the little paper creatures until his home is its own aquarium, until everywhere he looks is a memory of all you've brought him—pieces of you, perfectly arranged and delicately folded by your careful hands, much too gentle to tear.

Looking up at the sun.

at the todoroki agency holiday gift swap, you end up with a gag gift—a shirtless calendar of the top twelve heroes they did for charity. 

it’s plastic-sealed and you don’t dare open it, but it’s incriminating enough on its own. the cover features your very own boss todoroki shouto, his hair slicked back, staring out at you intensely over the most upsettingly mouth-watering set of washboard abs.

you retreat to your office, frantically trying to find somewhere to hide it. it’s too awkward to fit into your tiny trashcan and too large for your filing cabinet so you seize your tape, unroll it by the arm span, and hurriedly secure the calendar to the underside of your desk to get it out of sight.

except, just as you manage it, shouto himself walks in—and the calendar unsticks and falls straight to the floor with an echoing clap.

thinking about teacher izuku who ended up in a fuck buddies situation with you but always wanted more.

as in this man would literally make breakfast for you, iron your clothes for you, clean you up after, buy your favourite snacks for you and just like literally do whatever you want but your still like “nope, this is just sex, leave me alone”

but he DOESNT LET UP like even outside the bedroom he will try and speak to you but you tell him you don’t speak to your flings (which kinda hurt him but whatever)

the only reason you haven’t cut him off was bc the dick TEWWW GOODD

and the day you finally come over and stay the night without having sex with him, god this man is cheering and texting katsuki

“Lskqobqn she’s here omfg omfg WE ARE HANGING OUT”

“text me again about her i fucking DARE you.”

ugh izuku is actually just a lover boy

the favour

k.bakugo

-in which he needs a date to an event, and you owe him.

Thinking about my man fatgum again. The happy ending in my head where reader gets her degree/dream job/tired of escort work so quits and gives him her real name and number to keep in touch bc he was genuinely her favorite client. Them having a real first date as real ppl instead of the fake identities they were both using

I think its a really common daydream for him. having a real date. seeing her during the day. dressing in normal clothes and going to a restaurant just to treat her to something special.

he actually loves the idea of her never working again. going to bed early, sleeping late- nothing to stress her, nothing to worry about ever again-

but he'll settle for her doing anything else in the meantime