#and izuku closes his eyes and breathes deeply | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wigglywormy · 14 days

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blurred lines, sharp twine [bakugou/deku, 5.6k, nsfw]

okay. so I haven't written a fic in over 5 years!! can y'all believe that? i used to be so active on this blog, pumping out fics day and night, but life got busy and before I knew it over 5 years have passed omg.

of course my first fic back would be something like this lol. this was written for @wreckingtickles who shares my undying love for bakugou getting absolutely destroyed. they prompted me with a fic featuring bakugou's stirrup leggings and that kinda spiraled into this huge monster of a fic.

please enjoy 8) (also i made an ao3 to cross-post my tickle fics on!)

warnings: nsfw, feet, intense tickling, bondage, veryyyy slight dub-con, minors DNI.

Izuku wouldn’t openly call himself a weird guy, but he definitely doesn’t really try to hide the fact that he’s a little on the strange side. He knows he’s a gigantic nerd (he’s thoroughly reminded of that fact by Bakugou everyday), he knows he’s a little awkward, and he knows he’s maybe even a little bit of a freak. But, through the years of trauma, war, violence, and near-death, he’s come to accept that life is much too short to deny who you are.

Moving in with Bakugou after graduation was something Izuku didn’t even have to think about. Bakugou set up a few apartment viewings, and it went completely unsaid that the smartest decision for both of them would be to stick together. Roommates equaled cheaper rent, and since they both were working under the same agency it was easy to align their schedules. Normally they patrol together (the Wonder Due didn’t get its name for nothing), but occasionally - especially lately - Bakugou has been picking up more shifts than usual.

Izuku can’t help but notice how tired Bakugou has been lately, especially tonight, coming home from his 9th day in a row of patrol. The door closes softly behind him - he must think Izuku’s asleep already as it’s around two in the morning, and Izuku turns slightly from his position curled up on the couch to watch Bakugou toe his boots off. He’s already changed out of his hero uniform, clad in only his leggings and a soft, worn looking hoodie that Izuku’s pretty sure belongs to him.

Bakugou leans his head against the wall in the foyer for a brief moment, sighing deeply, and Izuku’s heart aches at the noise.

“Late night?” Izuku asks, closing his book and setting it on the coffee table.

Bakugou jumps. “Jesus - shit, you scared the fuck outta me.”

“Sorry,” Izuku murmurs, a slight smile on his face.

“The fuck are you still doing up?” Bakugou grumbles, finally making his way over to sprawl on the opposite end of the couch, sinking into the cushions with a grunt.

Izuku shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Which, technically isn’t a lie, but. Still. Even when he lays in his bed at night during one of Bakugou’s shifts that he’s not partnered on, he finds himself teetering between sleep and wakefulness as he listens carefully for the front door to open and shut, signaling Bakugou has gotten home safe for the night. Codependency wasn’t something Izuku was planning on adopting after the war, but his heart just can’t seem to relax if he doesn’t know that Bakugou is home and safe. Breathing. Alive.

Normally it’s fine, but since Bakugou has been working himself to death the past few weeks, Izuku’s own sleep schedule has taken a toll.

Bakugou doesn’t look bloodied or bruised now, though, which is a good sign.

“I thought your shift ended at midnight?” Izuku asks, his eyes unconsciously skimming over Bakugou’s exhausted body as he slumps further down into the cushions. He folds his arms over his chest, burrowing into the oversized borrowed hoodie, and Izuku smiles because Bakugou is so loud and brash, but right now, here and safe at home, he allows himself to be soft with Izuku.

“It was supposed to,” Bakugou grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. “One of the interns got caught up in a stupid bank robbery and ended up with a fuckin’ concussion, so I stayed late to help finish up some of his paperwork.”

“That’s sweet of you, Kacchan,” Izuku teases, and Bakugou rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out to rest in Izuku’s lap.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou says, voice tense with exhaustion, “I’m a fuckin’ saint.”

Izuku let’s his hands fall onto Bakugou’s ankles, rubbing gently with his thumbs, and he swallows heavily as his eyes trail down Bakugou’s body, the black leggings hugging his muscles tightly, all the way down to the thin straps holding the stirrups along the arches of his feet.

Izuku wouldn’t openly call himself a weird guy, but shit, that’s another thing about moving in with Bakugou after graduation. Getting to see all of these new and exciting sides of him; tense and angry and bloody after a fight, soft and exhausted after a long boring shift, sleepy and comfortable on his day off.

But the damn stirrup leggings have Izuku trying desperately hard not to act up.

“Do you - uh, want a foot rub or something?” Izuku blurts out, his thumb pressing into the bone of Bakugou’s ankle.

Bakugou’s eyes narrow, and Izuku offers a small nervous smile, trying not to seem as if he’s too interested. He just wants to help his friend relax, okay? Nothing weird about that. It’s not like they haven’t massaged each other before after a long day of hero work. Bakugou’s great with his hands, and Izuku’s arms and shoulders get knotted up so tightly after hours of using his quirk.

Bakugou still has smudges of dark eyeliner around his eyes since he hasn’t washed his face yet since patrol, and it makes his gaze piercing in the low light of the living room. He’s quiet for a moment, contemplative, before shrugging eventually and folding his arms across his chest.

“Fuck it, I ain’t gonna say no to a free foot massage,” He shrugs, “Lemme take these stupid fuckin’ leggings off first - ”

“No!” Izuku blurts out, and he chuckles awkwardly as his grip tightens on Bakugou’s ankles. “I mean - um. You don’t have to, it’s fine.”

This time, Bakugou looks… curious, which is the only way Izuku can describe his gaze. He bites his lip a bit as he thinks, and when he wiggles his toes a bit, Izuku feels warmth pooling low in his belly. Bakugou’s feet are surprisingly slender, his arch defined beautifully, ideal for someone who has to be quick on their feet. His toes are slightly pink, as are the soles of his feet, and they look soft from being in his boots all day. Izuku swallows thickly, but god, he just wants to touch.

Is he into feet? Who knows, maybe, he honestly hasn’t thought too much about it until recently. Maybe he’s just into Bakugou’s feet? When Bakugou wiggles his toes again, Izuku finally glances up and catches his gaze.

“Well? What’re you waitin’ for,” Bakugou says, his voice softer than it’s been all night.

Izuku’s hands are large, tan, and calloused - a stark contrast against Bakugou’s pale skin, and at the fist press of his thumbs into the arch, Bakugou exhales quickly through his nose, body sinking further into the couch.

It’s a little difficult to massage his feet with the strap from his stirrups hugging his arches, but at this moment in time Izuku would rather die than ask Bakugou to take them off. He moves over to just one foot, pressing both thumbs into the heel of his foot, and he slowly works his way up, calluses catching onto the legging strap as he moves upwards.

“Did the bank robber get caught?” Izuku asks, hands firm but delicate, watching as Bakugou’s toes twitch when he digs in beneath them.

“What?” Bakugou replies, blinking his eyes open where they’ve fallen shut. “The - oh, shit. Yeah. Sero was actually patrolling nearby so he got him while I took the dumbass intern to medical.”

“Don’t be so mean,” Izuku chuckles, “We were dumbass interns once, too.”

“Interns, yes. Dumbass? No,” Bakugou shoots back, but then he smirks. “Well, I wasn’t a dumbass. Can’t say the same about you, nerd.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, and he can’t help it when his touch softens, hooking a finger underneath the stirrup strap to graze his nail along the delicate arch.

The reaction is instant - Bakugou inhales sharply and twitches, looking ready to pull his leg back, but Izuku holds onto the strap, preventing him from moving away.

“Deku,” Bakugou growls, and to everyone else on this planet, the expression on his face would scream angry, sharp, intimidating.

But Izuku’s known him since they were kids. Izuku can read him like a damn book, and right now underneath that glare, Bakugou looks nervous.

Izuku keeps his touch soft, one finger hooked into the stirrup strap, while his other hand grazes right beneath the blonde’s toes. His foot twitches again, his toes curling up tightly, and the only word that comes to Izuku’s mind is cute. His feet are cute, and apparently sensitive, and Izuku has no idea what monster has taken over his brain but all he wants to do right now is see Bakugou squirm.

He might be dipping into dangerous territory, but ever since they moved in together, Bakugou’s been much more open to physical touch. It almost feels like a game they’ve been playing, dancing around each other but never going to a place they can’t return from. They’ve fallen asleep cuddling on the couch. They’ve spent quiet days off with Izuku’s head in Bakugou’s lap, the blonde idly playing with his hair while they watch old reruns of All Might movies together. They’ve even spent a few nights together in bed, holding each other close when the nightmares creep up every few weeks.

But this? This might be a place they can’t return from. Izuku’s not sure what Bakugou’s feeling right now, but the lines are so incredibly blurred in this moment, and Bakugou’s cheeks are steadily turning pink, and Izuku knows he could pull away if he really, really tried.

But he’s not. He’s staying put, fingers clenched into the cushions of the couch, eyeing Izuku warily.

“You know,” Izuku says idly, moving one hand to grip Bakugou’s ankle, the other hand trailing his fingers up and down, up and down, so soft it’s barely there. “You used to be so mean when we were kids, holding me down and tickling me until I cried.”

At the word - tickling - Bakugou audibly swallows. “Not my fault you were so damn ticklish, idiot.”

“I could never really get you back because you were so much stronger than me,” Izuku muses.

“It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, I’m not fuckin’ ticklish,” Bakugou replies. His voice sounds sure and steady, but his eyes keep flickering down to where Izuku is still stroking up and down his sole. He’s tense, and Izuku can feel it - Bakugou’s trying so hard not to move, not to give himself away.

Izuku laughs quietly to himself. Of course Bakugou would see this as a challenge to himself.

“Of course you’re not ticklish, Kacchan,” Izuku says, “Maybe if you keep telling yourself that, it might actually come true.”

“It is true, you little shit - ah!”

He squeaks, his breath hitching, when Izuku flutters his fingers under his toes again. His other leg, the one Izuku isn’t holding by the ankle, jerks back, and Izuku thinks no, we can’t have that now, before tendrils of black whip shoot out, pulling his other leg back and twisting around the ankle.

“Okay, now that’s completely fuckin’ unfair,” Bakugou grunts, trying to sound unaffected, but this time Izuku can hear the shake in his voice. “The hell are you tryin’ do here, Deku?”

“Nothing,” Izuku says, a few more tendrils of black whip emerging to wrap around his other ankle so both of Izuku’s hands are free now.

“You call this nothing?” Bakugou tugs at his feet a bit, and black whip tightens to keep him in place.

Izuku ignores him. “I thought you weren’t ticklish?”

Bakugou frowns. “I’m not.”

“Then this is nothing,” Izuku teases, finally wiggling his fingers in earnest over both of Bakugou’s feet, now bound in his lap for him to do with as he pleases. The thought has his stomach flipping, molten lava settling low in his gut, and he can’t help his dick twitching in interest.

Bakugou’s reaction is beautiful, finally a small huff of laughter escaping him as he wiggles his feet as much as he can with black whip holding his ankles down. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and they keep alternating from clutching at the cushion beneath him to hovering in the air as if he’s fighting his instinct of reaching down and showing Izuku away. His eyes are averting, as if the thought of watching Izuku tickle him is too much, and oh, he’s so cute.

Izuku’s feeling a little nice at the moment, but Bakugou’s fighting his laughter, and Izuku wants to hear him, so he moves his fingers up, scratching underneath his toes. Bakugou does laugh this time, covering his mouth with one hand in surprise as the sound escapes him. His toes curl, trying to block Izuku’s fingers, and a few more tendrils of black whip slither out and wrap around each of his toes, effectively prying them back so Izuku’s fingers can burrow into the soft, sensitive flesh there.

“Wait - no, Deku - ah, ahah.” His laughter is light and staccato, little gasps in between his growls as he covers his mouth with both hands now, muffling himself as his eyes squint in mirth. Once again, he could get Izuku to stop if he really wanted to, but besides the tugging and squirming of his bound feet, he’s not doing much else to get away.

That thought intrigues Izuku, and his confidence grows as he scratches in between his toes, pulled back and vulnerable thanks to black whip.

“I always thought your feet might be sensitive, you know, with how much you sweat and stuff,” Izuku muses, gears turning in his head as he makes mental notes on where Bakugou seems to react the most to. Underneath his toes seems much more ticklish than between them, but the arch of his sole seems equally as sensitive, especially when he pulls back one of the stirrup straps and rakes all five fingers up and down.

Bakugou gasps. “Y-you’re a d-dick,” he growls, but the words melt into laughter as Izuku does the same thing to his other foot before letting the strap go with a snap.

He gives Bakugou a moment to breathe, and the blonde finally lowers his hands from his mouth. His face is extremely flushed now, and he’s looking at Izuku with a mix of murderous intent and… want?

“Still not ticklish?” Izuku murmurs, rubbing his palms over Bakugou’s soles. The blonde twitches again, tensing, before relaxing when Izuku just rubs firmly, soothing.

“Once again - you’re a dick,” he grumbles.

“And you’re ticklish,” Izuku teases back, scratching his nails up the sides of Bakugou’s feet this time before making their way back to the soft, pink skin right beneath his toes.

“Don’t - Deku, st-stop! It f-fuckin’ - ”

“It what?” Izuku’s feeling mean now, and having Bakugou squirming because of him has his dick hardening more in his sweats. “It tickles?”

“I - I c-can’t - ahahaha!”

“You’re so strong, you can take it, can’t you?” And oh, Izuku’s playing dirty, because there’s nothing Bakugou hates than being told he can’t do something, and if he admits he can’t take the tickling, it’d be the same as admitting defeat, and Bakugou Katsuki is not someone who’s ever been defeated.

Although, Izuku thinks, watching as Bakugou covers his mouth again and squeezes his eyes shut, tickling might just be the key to finally defeating this man.

Izuku doesn’t like how muffled he sounds, though, so he uses more of black whip to sneakily slide up and twist around Bakugou’s wrists, tugging them away from his face. A few tendrils slip up his arms and slide underneath the sleeves of his hoodie, and Bakugou’s expression turns to panic.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” He hisses, but his lips are still twitching on a smile which ruins the intimidation of it. “This is an awful fuckin’ use of your quirk - ”

“So was last week, with yours,” Izuku interrupts, “when you were too lazy to microwave the popcorn and tried to just explode it instead.” Izuku laughs, remembering how long it took them to fish out all of the popcorn kernels from every single crevice in the living room.

“At least that was for a good reason!” Bakugou protests, squirming when the tendrils of black whip slip higher into his sleeves, nearly grazing his underarms now. His breathing is short, body tensed and mouth turned down in a pout.

“You’re saying this isn’t a good reason?”

“What, so fuckin’ torturing me is a good reason to abuse your quirk?”

“It’s torture?” Izuku murmurs. “I thought you weren’t ticklish.”

If Bakugou’s face could get any pinker, it would, and he bites his lip hard when Izuku wiggles black whip into the hollows of his underarms, keeping it light and feathery. Bakugou can’t hold out for long, though, and soon he’s gasping on a laugh and wriggling as much as he can in the hold Izuku has him in.

This time though, Izuku fails to notice Bakugou’s feet squirming aggressively, and Izuku freezes and gasps when the blonde’s bound feet nudge against the very obvious hard-on in his sweats.

Izuku swallows, his hands darting down to grab a hold of Bakugou’s feet. His toes are still tied back with black whip, and Izuku resists the urge to brush his fingers along the skin because something is unraveling inside of him and having Bakugou like this is quickly becoming addicting. Instead, he ducks his head, words escaping him as he opens his mouth but not coming up with anything to say.

A few seconds pass, Izuku preparing himself mentally for an explosion to blast him away or for disgusted yelling and screaming to occur. He’s already mentally drafting the text to Todoroki to ask if he can move in with him when Bakugou inevitably kicks him out once he’s freed.

A beat passes. One. Two. The silence is deafening, and Izuku finally manages to raise his eyes up to glance at Bakugou, surprised at the curious expression painted there. Bakugou nudges his heels gently against Izuku’s dick again, and Izuku hisses and bites his lip, apologies already spilling from his mouth,

“I’m s-sorry, shit, um - ”

“I should’ve fuckin’ known you’d be into something weird like this,” Bakugou says lowly, tilting his head a bit, almost like a cat analyzing it’s prey. “You’re a little freak, ain’t ya?”

The words should be harsh and piercing, but Bakugou sounds like he’s…. teasing him. And not in the mean, bullying way that Izuku was expecting. Their eyes meet, and Izuku sees a small hint of a smirk when Bakugou presses his heels in harder, wiggling against Izuku’s clothed cock as much as he can in his restraints.

“Kacchan - ah,” Izuku sighs, cheeks burning. “What’re you - ”

“What is it you like about it, huh?” Bakugou asks, his voice low.

Izuku’s head feels like it’s going to explode. “I don’t… I don’t know? I didn’t even - I mean… I like….”

Bakugou raises an eyebrow. His arms are still held tightly with black whip, the tendrils under his arms twitch when Izuku stutters, making Bakugou squeak quietly and jerk in his hold. That has Izuku’s eyes darkening again, and Bakugou still hasn’t blasted him away. If anything he’s egging him on, and Izuku’s mind races with what this might mean.

“I like… you,” Izuku starts off slowly.

“Me?” Bakugou questions, and if Izuku isn’t mistaken, there’s a twinge of something akin to hope in his voice.

“Yeah, you,” Izuku breathes, all rational thoughts thrown to the wayside now. “But I also like… having you, like this,” Izuku plays with the stirrup straps on Bakugou’s soles, fiddling with the fabric, breathing hard when Bakugou squirms each time his fingers graze the skin. “I like feeling you squirm. Hearing you laugh. Having you all… y’know, vulnerable for me?”

As he speaks, a few more tendrils of black whip slip under the front hem of Bakugou’s hoodie, slithering up and tapping away at his ribs. That has Bakugou giggling again, and god, Izuku loves his laugh. This is different from his normal laugh, it’s softer and hiccupy and the sound sends white-hot heat straight to his dick. Shit, could he come from this? Just from having Bakugou squirming and laughing and bound up like a perfect little present?

“Jesus - Izuku,” Bakugou laughs, rubbing his thighs together, and Izuku’s eyes widen when he sees a bulge in his leggings, now visible from where his hoodie has ridden up.

Izuku’s brain short-circuits then, and he’s now laser focused on the other boy, fingers moving almost mindlessly as they go back to scratching beneath sensitive toes. Izuku keeps his eyes on Bakugou’s face, his expressions, every twitch of his brow, and the blonde chokes on a laugh and ducks his head, trying to hide his face since Izuku has his arms pulled aside.

“What do you like about it?” Izuku asks, growing bolder the more Bakugou squirms.

“Fuck, oh my g-god, I d-dont - !”

Izuku moves finally, and though he keeps Bakugou bound with his quirk, he crawls up until he’s seated, straddling Bakugou’s thighs where they’re squeezed together, and now Izuku’s just a nudge away from Bakugou’s own obvious arousal.

“You don’t like it?” Izuku says, and this time, he withdraws black whip from underneath Bakugou’s hoodie, instead sliding his own hands beneath the fabric to touch bare skin. His hands are warm and large, fingers curling gently over Bakugou’s deliciously tapered waist, and though he doesn’t do anything yet, Bakugou’s shifting and squirming beneath him already.

Bakugou’s eyes meet Izuku’s finally, and when Izuku flicks his gaze down to Bakugou’s cock, hard as a rock in his leggings, Bakugou groans and ducks his head again.

“It’s not - I don’t know!” Bakugou breathes out, frustration clear in his voice. “You’re just - fuck, it’s weird.”

“It’s not that weird, Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs, and Bakugou tugs helplessly at his arms again. Izuku hums, pulling his arms with black whip until his wrists are crossed, and then slowly - absolutely mean - he lifts Bakugou’s arms up and back until his elbows are bent, bound hands pulled behind his head and forcing Bakugou to lean back more into the arm of the couch. Izuku slides further up, straddling Bakugou’s thighs until their clothed cocks finally brush, and Bakugou breathes out a shaky noise.

“It’s okay,” Izuku breathes.

“Let me go,” Bakugou grumbles, but his eyes are averted, blush high on his cheeks, teeth gnawing at his lower lip nervously. And wow, having Bakugou nervous, beneath him where Izuku can feel the heat radiating off of his body, has Izuku grinding forward, rubbing their dicks together firmly.

Bakugou instinctively tries to buck his hips up, but with the way he’s bound up, he can’t get too much leverage. Once again, he’s still not blasting Izuku off into the sun with his own quirk, so Izuku drums his fingers against Bakugou’s bare sides, drawing little circles with his thumbs right beneath his ribs.

“Ah - ” Bakugou hiccups on another strained giggle, and Izuku grins at him sharply.

“What do you like about it?” Izuku repeats, tickling oh-so-gently, because now that he has his hands touching him, he can’t stop. He can feel every hitch of breath, can feel his body tremble with restrained laughter, and there’s definitely no going back from here.

When Bakugou doesn’t respond, Izuku creeps his hands higher, towards the upper part of his ribs. His hoodie is bunched up completely now, and although Izuku would love to remove the damn piece of clothing, he’s scared if he lets Bakugou go now, this electric bubble they’re both in will pop and Izuku will have missed his chance completely.

He grinds against Bakugou again, while at the same time finally digging into his ribs, and the explosive laughter that Bakugou lets out has Izuku groaning out loud.

“Okay - okahahay! Fuck!” Bakugou yelps, taking a breath when Izuku’s fingers finally pause. “I - fuck, I don’t know. I like… how it feels, not being… not being able to move or some shit, I guess.”

Bakugou looks like he’d rather die than tell Izuku all of this, but Izuku’s already gotten this far, and there’s nothing that would ever make him stop now. The blurred line is now vanished completely, and Izuku murmurs quietly,

“You like being tied up, Kacchan?”

Bakugou frowns, glaring at him, but doesn’t respond.

Izuku continues, smirking. “You like being tied up by me?”

Bakugou squirms a bit, staying defiantly silent.

“You like being tickled like this? Helpless, vulnerable, letting me do whatever I want to you while you can’t do anything to stop it?” Izuku has no idea where this filthy mouth of his came from, but he takes this newfound confidence and harnesses it, slipping a hand down to cup Bakugou through his leggings and squeeze.

“Nn - fuck,” Bakugou pants. “No, you asshole, I don’t like being tickled - ”

“I disagree,” Izuku says, and this time when he pinches at Bakugou’s ribs, he can feel Bakugou’s cock jump beneath his hand as the blonde gasps out a laugh. “I actually think you really like it.”

“Just - when it’s you,” Bakugou finally gasps out, giggling softly as Izuku crawls his hand higher. His words give Izuku pause, Izuku’s heart beating rapidly in his chest because oh. Okay. Just when it’s him? Because it’s him?

Oh.

“Kacchan,” Izuku breathes, a magnetic pull tugging at his chest until he’s ducking down and kissing the laughter right out of Bakugou’s mouth. The blonde moans, tilting his head to the side to kiss him deeper, and Izuku happily licks into his mouth, chasing the feeling of god, fuck, finally.

Bakugou jerks his head to the side though when Izuku’s hand creeps higher, fluttering dangerous fingers into his underarm, and he yelps on a laugh, squirming and bucking up into Izuku’s other hand still kneading at his dick.

“Oh my god,” Bakugou giggles, shaking his head back and forth, and Izuku takes a moment to duck lower and kiss his neck, licking up beneath his jaw, biting gently right under his ear. That has Bakugou squeaking again, and Izuku moans as he feels the blonde tremble against him.

“God, you’re so cute,” Izuku moans in disbelief. “How can you be so hot and cute at the same time?”

“Y-you should be - ah, ahaha - asking yourself th-that - fuck, Izuku, I cahahan’t!”

Izuku stops tickling him for a moment and grins. “You think I’m hot and cute?”

“Not right now, while you’re ti - ,” Bakugou cuts himself off with an embarrassed grunt, not even able to say the actual word, and Izuku takes note of that happily, “Also, fuck you, I’m not cute.”

Izuku doesn’t respond right away, instead opting for shoving Bakugou’s leggings down so they’re bunched around his thighs, freeing his dick, before settling back up where he was seated before. He pulls his own cock out of his sweats, and when he wraps a large, calloused hand around them both and strokes, squeezing perfectly tight, Bakugou throws his head back and moans.

Tendrils of black whip slide down his legs where his feet are still tightly held in place, and as they flutter and scratch beneath his toes more intensely this time, Bakugou actually lets out a small sob, his eyes tearing up as he simultaneously tries to tug at his legs while also squirming up into Izuku’s hand on their cocks.

“You’re feet are so sensitive,” Izuku muses, his pupils so dark his eyes look black, and although Bakugou can’t really kiss him back while he’s laughing, that doesn’t stop Izuku from swallowing up every little noise he makes, lips spit-slick and panting against Bakugou’s mouth.

“Izu - Izuku, plehehease - ah, fuck, fuck,” He sounds like something straight out of one of Izuku’s wet dreams, and Izuku leans back again to stare at his face. Bakugou’s eyes are screwed up now, tears leaking out from the corners, and Izuku coos at him.

“Baby,” he says sweetly, “Is it too much?”

“Y-yes, I can’t - Izuku please.”

“I think you’re stronger than that. It’s just tickling,” Izuku teases. Bakugou’s cock is leaking, and it’s making the slide of Izuku’s hand on them both so, so good. Izuku brings out some more tendrils of black whip, sliding them right back underneath Bakugou’s hoodie to return to the warmth of his underarms, and Bakugou screams.

“It’s so - ahhaha, it’s t-too much,” Bakugou whines, his breathless giggling mixed with moans that sound as if they’re being punched out of him, and his body is strung tight, so tight Izuku can feel how close he is to breaking.

There’s something so incredibly sweet about taking Bakugou completely apart like this. Izuku pants and grinds into his own hand, squeezing and rubbing the head of his cock against the blonde’s, and while black whip continues tormenting Bakugou’s poor feet and underarms, Izuku’s own free hand comes up to grip Bakugou by the chin, forcing him to look at him, eyes blurry through his tears.

“Tell me how it feels,” he whispers, his lips just a breath away from Bakugou’s, feeling the warm desperate noises coming out of the boy’s mouth.

Izuku swipes his thumb over the head of Bakugou’s cock, his own arousal forgotten as he slips down to squeeze at the base tightly, preventing the blonde from actually coming. Bakugou makes a guttural, desperate noise, and Izuku’s grip tightens on his face, keeping him there, watching him.

Izuku’s quirk is nearly everywhere by now, black whip slithering beneath the leggings to stroke behind his knees, a few more tendrils brushing and tickling at his neck, and even more settled beneath his hoodie, prodding and digging and relentless. The fight has completely left Bakugou finally, and he’s slumped against the arm of the couch, body shaking and fighting the plethora of sensations that are overwhelming him.

“Hey,” Izuku laughs a bit, “Baby, c’mon. Tell me how it feels.”

It almost feels evil, watching as Bakugou tries to speak, to come with something, anything to get Izuku to - what, to stop tickling him? To keep tickling him? To stroke his dick again until he comes all over himself? Bakugou’s brain is mush, and Izuku revels in the desperation painted on the boy’s blushing face.

“It - fuck, it f-feels like torture,” Bakugou manages to gasp out, but he bucks his hip up when he feels black whip dig into the ticklish dip of his hip.

“You like being tortured, it seems,” Izuku points out as Bakugou’s cock leaks another bead of precome, so red and hard it’s nearly purple.

“No - ” Bakugou hiccups on his laughter, eyes widening when Izuku raises a brow,, “I mean - fine, shihihit - yes, yes, I like it, god fucking d-damnit Izuku!”

“Shh,” Izuku soothes, but he doesn’t release his hold at the base of Bakugou’s cock.

“Please,” Bakugou whines, and Izuku nearly comes when he realizes he has Bakugou exactly where he wants him.

“Please what?” Izuku releases Bakugou’s chin and his hand slips under the hoodie, pinching right at Bakugou’s top rib, a place Izuku’s learned makes him absolutely lose it.

“Pl-please let me - ah, ahaha fuhuhuck - please let me c-come!” Bakugou’s crying in earnest now, ducking his head down to press his forehead against the crook of Izuku’s neck, and Izuku’s heart leaps when the blonde bites down on Izuku’s shirt, trying to muffle his noises in the fabric.

It’s adorable, and Izuku sighs happily. “Of course, Kacchan.”

He grabs ahold of both of their cocks again, this time stroking in earnest, fast and quick. It doesn’t take more than a few pumps of his hand before Bakugou is crying out against Izuku’s neck, writhing beneath him as he comes, and Izuku keeps tickling him through it. The sensation is electric, Bakugou’s body fighting to distinguish between pleasure and torment, and Izuku groans loudly as he uses Bakugou’s come to stroke his own cock.

“St-stop,” Bakugou giggles, completely breathless, “Too - too f-fucking much - please - ”

Izuku ducks back down to kiss the sweet helpless laughter right out of his mouth, finally coming, his own come mixing with Bakugou’s between them. Izuku heaves a deep breath, slumping against Bakugou as black whip finally retracts, disappearing back into his body and releasing the blonde from their clutches.

It’s quiet for a moment, Bakugou’s arms having fallen limp at his sides, head still buried in Izuku’s neck as he catches his breath. When he shifts, flexing his legs a little, Izuku leans back, sitting up and brushing Bakugou’s hair back from his sweaty forehead.

“Holy fuck,” Bakugou manages, blinking leftover tears from his eyes. “You’re fuckin’ evil, you know that?”

Izuku giggles nervously, still riding the high of whatever the hell just happened between them. Bakugou finally lifts his arms, wrapping them around Izuku’s waist loosely, and Izuku’s heart flutters when Bakugou leans up to press a kiss to the corner of Izuku’s mouth.

“You liked it,” Izuku says, turning to kiss him properly, now able to happily lick into the warmth without Bakugou’s laughter hindering him.

“Fuck off,” Bakugou murmurs into his mouth. “So what if I did, huh?”

Izuku just hums, because that blurred line being gone means that now he can kiss Bakugou whenever he wants, and that thought has him grinning widely and winding his arms around Bakugou’s neck.

“Ew, no, don’t get your nasty jizz-hands in my hair!” Bakugou protests, and Izuku laughs out loud, pulling his arms back quickly.

“Shit - sorry, sorry! We should probably get cleaned up, huh? Your hoodie is covered in come.”

“Good thing it’s not my hoodie, then,” Bakugou smirks. His cheeks are still flushed, and Izuku rolls his eyes as he takes his come-covered hand and smacks it right into Bakugou’s cheek before darting off of him and running away like his life depends on it.

Bakugou shrieks and scrambles to chase after him, and Izuku’s laughter echoes happily through their apartment.

#bakudeku #dekubaku #bnha #bnha tickling #tickling #worm writes #tickle fic

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katsukikitten · 1 year

Text

Thinking about Kirishima having a panic attack when Bakugou misses their weekly facetime call while Bakugou is over seas.

It's the not knowing, sending him right back to when they were 15 and 16. When they were at war and Bakugou was motionless.

Kirishima was none the wiser and remembers in great detail how Bakugou looked in the ICU.

With pale Izuku on his knees grabbing at his hand.

With the smother smell of bleach that burned his nose.

With the steady, slow, too fucking slow beat of his best friend's heart.

Kirishima sinks to his knees. He hadn't had an attack in so long, quirk failure is quick to set in and his hand turns unbreakable, shattering the granite of the vanity sink as he struggles to pull in air. He needed his inhaler? Where the fuck was his inhaler that sprayed soothing medicine to his now jagged lungs.

The room spins fast, so quickly that it feels as if Kirishima is suddenly aware of the Earth's rotation.

Spinning spinning and spinning counting down the seconds hours days until none of this fucking mattered and they were all dead.

He's wheezing, his peripheral is starting to close in on him when his phone starts to ring.

A facetime, from Bakugou and once the ash blonde sees his friend on screen, his anger dies in his throat and he doesn't panic. Doesn't let the fear set into his bones too deeply as he talks Kirishima down.

"Your backup inhaler is under the sink remember? Right in the basket that hangs on the cabinet door. Can you get that for me Ei?"

Kirishima nods, taking in and letting out too sharp puffs of air, gagging from how tightly his throat closes up in his panicked inhale.

"That's it. Now when you open the cap and put it to your mouth. You have to take a deep breath. It's going to hurt but you have too."

Kirishima does as he's instructed, taking the deep breath that burns all the way down. The medicine stinging his esophagus and forcing his rigid lungs apart. It makes Kirishima cough, grabbing at the front of his shirt. Tears in his eyes because he hates how unmanly he feels to have Bakugou on the phone with him while he spirals again.

"Okay. One more." No gruff tone when it came to this, not even a shred if annoyance or his usual nickname of shitty hair. Eijirou shakes his head and Bakugou gets a little more firm.

"One more."

"Hurts."

"Eijirou. One. More."

Reluctantly the red head places the plastic to his lips. Pressing down onto the cartridge and inhaling deeply as the mist of medicine floods his system.

Again forcing it's way into his lungs that go from jagged cliff side back to soft flesh. Mimicking Bakugou for a second, pulling in air through his nose and holding it for a heart beat or two before he deeply exhales.

Color returning to his cheeks as he wipes his eyes with calloused hands. He goes to apologize but Bakugou cuts him off before he can even try.

"Don't."

Silence hangs on the line for a moment, Kirishima picking up his phone and admitting defeat by staying on his bathroom floor.

"Ya gonna start telling me about yer week shitty hair or am I gonna have to bore you to death on how I can't fuckin meditate to save my life?"

#kitten writes 🖤🐈‍⬛ 🖋️#if you see this in kicked dogs later on no you don't 😂

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shibaraki · 2 years

Text

PAIN EXCHANGE ┊ MIDORIYA IZUKU

tags: GN reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, pro hero deku, quirk accident (reader is hit with a pain exchange quirk), izuku deals with bad chronic pain

wc: 1k+

Everything feels wrong as you wake.

There's a deep, radiating ache. A permafrost forming in the marrow of your bones, sharp where the fractures freeze and expand. You lift your hand to stare at the IV threaded into the bending crook of your arm and everything creaks, your body protesting the movement.

“Hey,” you hear a familiar voice, “how’re you feeling?”

Izuku’s fingers come into view, carefully encircling your forearm to splay it out flat along the hospital bed. You settle easily but he doesn’t remove them, instead massaging gentle strokes into the muscle with his thumb as you meet his gaze.

There’s guilt in his eyes that you can’t place, a pinch in his brow as he observes you. But more than that, he looks well rested — lighter in ways you can’t articulate. The tension that once held his shoulders stiff is notably gone, and he doesn’t hesitate in his movements as if he were bracing for something. Noticing these changes only makes the pain in your spine more apparent, thorning sharp into the sinew of your back. You inhale a quick, wounded breath at the sensation.

“It hurts”.

Izuku’s expression falls, the legs of his chair scraping uncomfortably along the tiled flooring as he shifts closer to your bedside, cupping both hands around your own in what mimics prayer. If you strain to listen, you can hear his hushed repetitive apologies as he presses a kiss to your knuckles. “Do you want me to call the Doctor? He can administer some more pain relief,” he says.

You exhale, long and slow, like you might fall apart at the seams. Thinking back on it, you have no idea how you ended up in the hospital. The two of you had been on a date — having finally worked out where your schedules lined up this month — but your memories end there. Nothing that would explain the agony; you felt as if a building had collapsed right on top of you.

“What happened?” the words are thin and rasped, wincing at the dryness in your throat as you swallow. “I don’t remember— was there a villain attack?”

His grip tightens briefly, another apologetic kiss to the back of your hand. He keeps his lips held to your skin as he shakes his head, eyes fluttering closed to avoid your own. “No, no villains. We bumped into some civilians and, well— the daughter had recently manifested her quirk…”

“So we were accidentally hit with it?” he nods, his mouth pressing into a quivering line. You realise he’s trying not to cry. “What… what was the quirk?”

His breathing is shaken, warmth on your skin. “Her parents still don’t know the intricacies of it but apparently it’s an exchange quirk. Touch based, typically only lasts a few hours and—”

“Baby, I love your analyses but this isn’t the time,” you softly interrupt, and his jaw immediately sews shut. “What was exchanged?”

“Pain. The exchange here was… was pain,” he swallows, throat bobbing, “usually the exchange is between herself and whoever she is touching but in this case, because we were holding hands, it— it switched between us”.

The moment that it clicks, you begin to understand why he wanted to cry, why guilt and shame had begun to permeate the room. This deeply rooted, splintering agony belonged to him, tormented him, and he had kept it from you.

Worst of all, you had believed it. Every smile that shone a little too bright, every promise and kiss that followed them, you devoured without second thought. Heroes hurt — they endure and live through injuries you couldn’t even fathom, so you never questioned his discomfort too much for fear of overstepping. How much could one man weather? You’d never be able to understand it.

Still, you should have seen it.

“Why did you—” your voice cracks, emotion welling in your sinuses despite your efforts, “if it felt this bad today why didn’t you say anything?”

His bottom lip trembles and when he reaches to cradle your cheek, you turn into his palm to kiss each crooked finger. The pad of his thumb tickles your lashes where he wipes away the moisture gathering by the corner of your eye. Again, you hear his wordless apology.

“Today was actually one of my better days,” he replies forlornly with a brittle smile, “there are no painless days anymore. Just bearable and a little unbearable”.

Bearable. Pain that had startled your body unconscious, the muted sting on the skin of your knees from collapsing — this was bearable. You were intimately familiar with how much comfort Izuku sought from pain, but this is another thing entirely. An asinine, unending punishment. It’s not normal, you want to tell him, you can’t live like this. It wouldn’t matter, because he has, he can and he will.

Your limbs throb, and you breathe through it. Bearable. Distantly, you recall that he has been participating in physical therapy since his first year of high school. You’ve never felt so helpless.

“Please don’t look like that,” he murmurs, turning your cheek to face him. His eyes are glassy, wide and pleading. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I promise it’s alright. I manage”.

“I know I’m not a hero Izuku, but we’re still a team,” the IV aches when you reach to thread your fingers through his hair. It’s just like him to take everything on by himself. Traumatising as it was, sharing his pain may have been a disguised blessing. Watching him now, you think you might understand him more than ever. “So tell me when it’s bad and I’ll draw you a bath for when you get home. I’ll keep more heat and cold gel packs in the cupboard. I’ll learn how to do massage therapy—”

You’re cut off by a wet, broken sound. Izuku laughs, though it is more of a sob, and leans into your touch heavily. “You’re amazing,” he grins, the bridge of his nose wrinkling as he sniffs. “I love you”.

“I love you,” you rasp. Soreness pierces through your radius and accumulates in the tendons, but you don’t flinch away from him. Even after the affects of the quirk wear off, you would gladly carry some of this pain for him.

It was bearable.

#m.izuku

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kenzumekodma · 2 years

Text

18+, minors & ageless blogs dni

pairing: izuku midoriya x fem!reader

wc: 4153

warnings: praise kink, pet names (bunny, princess), fae!deku, fantasy au, oral (f recieving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, implied pervy deku, it’s rly soft and that should be a warning in itself, no beta we die like sean bean in fantasy media

a/n: happy birthday to me! this is v v v self indulgent and akdjsbd i am not sorry reader is me w no face. also, surprise, am back posting after like 8 and a half months of not having the mental energy for it ayyyyyy. kinda set it up for a second part but lord only knows if i’ll get back in the headspace to write it. as always, if you like this and want to encourage me to write more, reblogs are the way to go!

find my masterlist here!

I wish… I wish I could be anywhere but here!

Eyes still closed, you take a shallow breath in and let the force of your air blow out your candles. Sure, you’re a little too old, you think, to be making a frivolous wish, one that only a child could believe would come true. And you knew it wouldn’t, despite the faint glimmer of hope nestled deeply inside your chest. Wouldn’t it have been better to spend your birthday wish on something more realistic, like hearing back about the job interview you had, or getting a raise like you’ve deserved for so long? If you were going to believe in magic, in tipping fate’s favour in your direction, it should be about something that’s within your control to help along, right? But fate works in mysterious ways.

You open your eyes, and the tiny bit of hope in your heart turns to coals. Nothing around you has changed. Your friends are still sitting around the table, looking at you expectantly to cut your cake. As you search for the knife, you could swear you see a flash of dark green from the corner of your eye.

“You okay?” your friend asks, and you notice your eyebrows are knit in confusion.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s, uh, just those little spots you get when you close your eyes too hard, yknow?” You make a show of blinking and force a smile to your face.

——

By the time you’re home, showered, in bed, and listening to music, you’d nearly forgotten about your wish entirely. It’s not until another voice chimes in with the song playing from your speaker. A velvety voice sings along to the words the owner seems to know, hums along to the others. You enjoy it for a moment, until you realize you’re in your room, and you live alone.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck? Did someone break in here to sing karaoke? At least they’re not off key… but still what the fuck??? Your thoughts cycle through in half a second, eyes still frozen ahead of you. As you move them to blink, though, you notice the same shade of green as before out of the corner of your eye.

“Did you follow me home?” you ask, dread pooling in the pit of your stomach at the thought that the voice might actually respond. Never once have you wished that you’d had an auditory hallucination more in your life. The green blob encroaching on your peripheral vision jumps.

“I-in a way, I guess?” the voice responds. “You can see me?”

“I’m trying not to, obviously,” you say, still frozen looking at the ceiling. A shiver of discomfort runs up your spine, and you know he’s looking at you. “Who are you and why are you here?” you demand, wavering voice giving you away.

“I, uh, I kind of live here?” his tone is as much of a question as it is an answer. “I’m, um, your guardian faerie. Izuku.” he tacks on his name, an afterthought.

“Bull fucking shit, you can’t live here because I live here. And guardian faerie? Get your folk tales right, it’s a guardian angel. Get, get out of my apartment before I call the cops,” you shout quietly, being careful to not alarm your neighbours. Poor choice, you think, but just in case you can resolve it yourself, or in case what this strange man is saying is true.

You finally bring yourself to look at him, rage evident on your face at having been inadvertently spied on. Gossamer wings peek out from behind his wide shoulders, the same verdant shade as his hair and eyes, you notice. The same green you saw flitting at the corner of your vision when you made your wish.

“I kind of live here because I, I keep an eye on you, so to speak? It’s hard to explain.”

“Turn around,” you request, your voice firm. This stranger, this Izuku, does as you ask, and you see dainty slashes cut in the back of his jacket to accommodate the wings sprouting from between his shoulder blades. “If what you’re saying is true, you can show me where you’re from, right?”

“I can’t not show you where I’m from,” he says, fiddling with the hem of his jacket, suddenly very interested in his feet.

“That’s a double negative. You can, then,” you conclude. “Take me there.”

Izuku grimaces, but gets up from his spot at the end of your bed. Energy pricks at your skin, the air’s charged like lightning about to strike. It picks up until the hair on your arms is standing up as the freckled man before you drags the palm of his hand down the panel of your bedroom door. He opens it unceremoniously to show you what at first looks like nothing. The closer you get, though, the more the other side comes into focus. Overlaid with your hallway, you see a forest at dusk, tinged green by the portal between you and Izuku’s home plane.

“If you go through here, I need you to stay quiet, stick by me, and don’t get noticed,” he says. He’s barely finished stating his conditions before you’re walking headfirst into the unknown realm. He jumps after you, sealing the portal back up as quickly as he can.

Your stomach lurches, and you wonder how Izuku manages to go between worlds so effortlessly, but you’re soothed as the prickling energy dies down. It should come with a warning, though. May cause vertigo, not recommended for children under the age of 12 or anyone human at all, Jesus… you think as you blink hard to try to regain your balance. It has the opposite effect though, as you find yourself tumbling into another creature. A blond man with a knowing smile looks down at you.

“S-sorry, new here, first day,” you mumble as you shake your head and duck behind some trees in the way you came. Izuku couldn’t have gone far, right? He came through after you, unless he left you here and took your apartment for himself. But he said to stick by him? At least that’s what you think you heard, you didn’t stay long enough to process what he was saying.

“Aoyama! Good to see you!” Izuku says. Diverting Aoyama’s attention to him should keep him from seeing you, and should also let you know where he is, he thinks. You catch on quickly, and crouch down, low enough to not be seen through the bushes between trees. Seconds creep by like minutes until you spot Izuku’s red shoes like a beacon and tug on his pants to let him know you’re here.

“Midoriya! It’s been so long, have you gotten tired of your mortal girl? You’ve been there quite a while, even took up their style of dress? Tres fashionable, my friend,” Aoyama takes the greeting as an invitation to catch up.

“No, uh, no not yet,” Izuku laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve got some urgent business, catch up later?”

“Of course, of course. I won’t keep you.” Aoyama waves, and you get the feeling that he looks to the grass, exactly where you’re on your hands and knees, holding your breath. But you must be imagining it, right?

“That was fucking close,” Izuku says under his breath. “You didn’t let him see you, right?”

You weigh your options for the briefest of moments, before shaking your head side to side.

“Good. It’s lucky it was a friend, though, it could have been way worse,” he says and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“What is this place?” you ask.

“This,” Izuku gestures broadly to the forest around him as you stand up, faint lights of a city in the trees glistening in the distance. “This is Fae. You’ve heard fairy tales before, right? Well here, they’re history. Everything has to come from somewhere. Somewhere where there’s a kernel of truth to everything.”

“Where there’s a kernel of truth to everything? Oh, so what they say about the fae, in my world, it’s true? You can’t lie?”

“Nope. We have to be very careful with our words.”

“Try telling me you’re a purple octopus,” you challenge.

“I-, I’m-,” he tries to start as you giggle. “Oh, stop it, you know I can’t!” He feels his cheeks heat up, and he’s never felt more glad that you’re warming up to him enough to joke around.

“Do you let all the girls you bring to the forest tease you?” you chuckle.

“I haven’t brought anyone back here before,” he says. There’s been no one but you, he thinks, and it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he knows as much as anyone from his world that you shouldn’t let the whole truth go at once. “I shouldn’t have brought you here, it’s dangerous. You’re not supposed to be here, who knows what’ll happen if they find you.”

“If who finds me?” you ask.

“Let’s hope you don’t find out,” he says gravely.

You roll your eyes and turn to make off towards the glittering lanterns in the distance, but a large, scarred hand catches your wrist and for the second time tonight you’re frozen in place by the strange man claiming to be your guardian faerie.

“I’m not kidding, don’t go off on your own. Stay with me. We’ll go anywhere you want, I promise, but I need you to stay with me.” His skin is warm wrapped around yours, and in such close proximity you notice more about him.

Lightly tanned skin, more freckles than you noticed before, his eyes are like a reflection of the forest itself. It’s as if you’re looking at him in high definition, like every human feature he has is amplified and more beautiful than you could’ve put together in your imagination. He’s tall, too. Tall enough you have to tilt your neck back to look him in the eye from this angle. If you were to look head on, though, you’d see the muscle his jacket hides being hinted at by the t-shirt that’s just tight enough across his chest.

“Okay, fine,” you nod, increasingly aware of how close his face is, if only a fair few inches above yours.

“That’s a good girl,” Izuku says. His eyes immediately go wide, and he hopes you don’t recognize where he got that from. Instead, you look down quickly and go quiet. “I, uh, f-forget I said anything, sorry. Wh-where do you want to go?”

You clear your throat. “I want to see the lights,” you decide.

“We’ll have to stay toward the outskirts, but we can do that. The city’s all done up right now, you know. It’s real pretty.”

—-

It doesn’t feel like long, but maybe time passes differently here, you think. The full moon shines brightly above you and you guess it must be past midnight when you arrive near the city gates. You’ve never seen such a beautiful sight in your life, it’s like something that was plucked straight from your childhood daydreams. From your vantage point in the distance, you see elaborate wooden buildings with thatched roofs with moss creeping up the side walls. A circle of stones stands in what you can only imagine is the town square towards the gate. And in the background, sprawling over the city, letting its leaves seemingly touch the sky as well as its citizens, is the most grand willow tree. Paper lanterns adorn the post beside every door, a peculiar yet familiar series of dots poked into each one, letting the light shine through.

“What are those?” you ask, pointing to the lanterns.

“The stars on them? It’s the constellation Perseus. It’s named after an old, old hero from your world. You know, we share the sky,” Izuku explains. “If you think of it like this, there’s an infinite number of worlds, right? Thin as paper, sandwiched one on top of the other between nothingness and the sky. The void is infinite, and so are we. It has a way of making you feel alone but comforted, doesn’t it?”

“That might just be you,” you say, and you’re not sure whether you mean it’s only him that feels comforted, or it’s only him that’s comforting you. “A-anyway, you said there’s a festival, right? What does that have to do with a hero from my world?”

“Right! Every year around this time, there’s falling stars. I, I think you call them a meteor shower? Which sounds like stars taking a bath, but that doesn’t matter. When you watch them, it looks like they’re coming right out of the constellation, so they’re called the Perseids. Did you, uh, want to see them? I know somewhere we won’t run into anyone else,” Izuku offers.

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” you smile, and you think to yourself that just maybe your birthday wish is coming true after all. The coal of hope inside your chest fans into an ember as Izuku takes your hand to guide you to a secluded meadow about fifteen minutes away from the city.

“I used to come here as a kid when I wanted away from everything,” he says, letting go of your hand to balance himself. “Watch your step, the trail gets kind of rocky here.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when a rock slips under your foot, tripping you, and sending you flying into Izuku’s back. You tumble the remaining twenty feet or so, landing in the clearing, and let out a sigh of relief as you feel you’re on solid ground. Hanging your head, you move to get up and find where Izuku ended up.

“This, uh, this isn’t what it looks like, right?” Izuku’s voice comes from underneath you. To your surprise, what you thought was firm ground was muscle.

“I, I uh, it’s not, it’s not!” you exclaim, holding your hands where he can see them. It’s a shame, though, that you don’t quite have your balance, you think, as you fall face first onto his chest.

“You’re not making a good case for yourself, y’know,” he laughs, easing the tension. “If, if you wanted me that badly, you could’ve just said,” he teases.

“I don’t, I swear!” you protest, your ember glowing bigger.

“Are you lying to me, human?” He’s not sure he’s teasing this time. You swallow, your eyes meeting his.

“I, I am.”

With a boost of confidence, Izuku leans up to capture your lips with his own. He’s tender, his soft lips moving gently against yours as you reciprocate the kiss.

“I have to know, though. How long have you been ‘kind of living’ in my apartment?”

Izuku’s face flushes. “It’s been more than a few months. Can, can I explain more later? I’ve wanted to do this since I set eyes on you, I want to treat you properly. Anything you want to know, the answers are yours, I promise. Let me show you what you deserve.”

You nod, and he takes the permission to take your face in his hand. His kiss is more fervent now. A bonfire graces your chest with its presence. It feels like forever and yet not long enough before you break the kiss for a breath. You smile and put your hand over his, turning your head to press a soft kiss to the pads of his fingers. His breath hitches, making you smile wider.

“Y’know, I could get used to you being around,” you murmur to him.

“I want to be around, I want you to see me around,” he whispers back.

Izuku’s strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest. He rolls with you, his wings unfurling to cast a peridot haze over you with the moonlight. Kisses trail down your neck, to your chest, as one of Izuku’s hands holds your waist, the other keeping his balance. Through your clothing, he nips at your breast, then your other one.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes. He lifts the hem of your dress up just enough to pepper gentle kisses on your skin, the light touch making you squirm. “Ticklish, or eager?” he asks.

“Both,” you confess. His fingers toy at the elastic of your panties. “If you’re going to take them off, then take them off,” you tell him.

“Maybe I won’t now,” he smirks. “Maybe you’re going to have to earn that privilege.”

“H-how-?” your question is cut off by Izuku’s wandering hand easing your breast from the confines of your dress and latching his lips around your nipple. The swirl of his tongue and the light scrape of his teeth have you clenching around nothing, and you could swear there are double the stars in the sky above you.

“C-can you do that, but, ah, d-down…” you trail off, embarrassed by the idea of saying what exactly you want out loud.

“Between your legs? Of course, bunny, anything to make you feel good,” Izuku smiles and presses the softest of kisses to your forehead. “You just have to say the magic word.”

“P-please, can you?”

“That’s my girl,” he beams.

His deft fingers work their way under your waistband, taking his time as Izuku slides your panties down your thighs, over one ankle, and then the other before they’re laying forgotten in the grass somewhere. He shuffles himself down as gracefully as one can manage in the dark of night until his head rests on the plushness of your inner thigh.

Your folds glisten silver in the reflection of the moon, the light of it making you look as though you’re glowing from inside. Izuku licks a soft strip from your opening to your clit, relishing the taste of your essence he’s been dying to have for many, many months. And like with a fine meal, once he’s had a taste, there’s no stopping him.

Your whole body shudders as he teases his way around in circles, getting close to your sensitive bud but never quite touching it. A loud whimper is torn from your throat when he finally flicks his tongue up across it. Primal and hungry, it’s purely human, and music to his ears. He darts his tongue into you to give you a brief respite before latching around your clit, alternating between suckling light pressure and giving you broad strokes with his tongue flattened.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, please, ‘Zuku!” you cry out, and he knows you’re a hair’s breadth away from the edge. He pulls back, forcing your body to calm back down.

“Wh-what’d you do that for?” you can’t stop the pout on your face from forming.

“Trust me, okay? It’s gonna feel even better around my cock. Wanna make you feel so good, bunny. Doesn’t my pretty girl wanna feel good?”

You nod, hellbent on being good for him, and he smiles, the wetness of your arousal glistening around his mouth. Izuku leans down and kisses you once more, this time you taste yourself on his tongue.

“When you feel like you’re ready, let me know, okay? I have to prep you a little first, I don’t want to hurt you.” He peppers kisses along your cheek, and you look away, but smile and nod. “Getting shy on me?” he chuckles. You start to shake your head, but nod instead. “You’re cute, you know that?”

“‘M ready, is what I am,” you counter. The white hot feeling in your abdomen has subsided, although the fire in your chest is hotter than the core of any star you’ve ever seen.

“You sure?”

“Mhm, I’m ready for you ‘Zuku.”

Izuku presses one last soft peck to your lips before repositioning his face between your legs once more, this time with his fingers circling your entrance, ready to take the plunge.

“It’s going to stretch a little, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

With his tongue flat, he licks your clit with very little pressure, just enough to distract you from the intrusion of one of his fingers. The stretch isn’t as bad as you’d expected, and he finds your little bundle of nerves without any issue. When he adds a second finger, though, you inhale sharply.

“Look at me, princess. You’re doing so well for me, so well. Taking my fingers so well. So good, princess,” he says between kisses to your mound. You mewl at the praise, you’d do anything to hear it again.

“‘Nother one, gimme a-another one, please.”

He scissors his two fingers inside you, stretching you until he’s sure you can take a third. Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, and slower still he pushes three back inside, being sure to suckle and flick his tongue quickly around your clit to keep you from clenching too tightly around them. You adjust quicker than he expects, something he’s thankful for. His cock is getting too hard to ignore, straining at his pants as it is.

“Ready, bunny?” He waits as patiently as he can for you to nod before he pulls his fingers out. Fumbling with his pants seems to take an eternity to him, and he curses mortal fashion for putting aesthetics over functionality.

“Let me,” you say quietly. You reach out, and with a swift motion you have his pants undone, threatening to fall down his waist.

“Thank you. Such a good girl for me, you are. So helpful,” he showers you in praise.

He takes a moment to memorize every inch of your face, the curve of your hips, the soft texture of your skin underneath him as he lines himself up to sink himself into you. You gasp softly as he slowly pushes his tip past your ring of muscle, and you’re so glad you let him stretch you for as long as he did. He feels big, big enough you’d have tapped out if he hadn’t.

You feel a vein slide against your velvet walls in the most delicious way, and you clench around his thick girth.

“‘M not even in all the way, bunny,” he breathes out a chuckle. Forever and a day seems to pass by before he’s sunk himself into you to the hilt. “Say the word an’ I’ll start moving,” he says, dizzy already from how tight and sweet you are.

“P-please, ‘Zuku,” you beg, “feel like I’m gonna explode if you don’t move,” you whimper. Izuku has never been one to deny you anything. Any little push of fate, anything he can help you and get away with, he has. Hell, his intervention is the long ago catalyst to your tryst, but he’ll tell you about it later, he thinks. Until then, all he wants to think about is how right it feels to have your legs wrapped around him, to have you to himself so intimately.

His thrusts are slow and deep, and when you close your eyes, you see shooting stars more clearly than you can with the meteor shower going on above you. You rock your hips into his, desperately pushing your lips to his neck, kissing every free inch of skin you can get your lips on.

“Close?” asks Izuku.

“Y-yeah, ‘m t-too close,” you whimper. He ensnares you in a searing kiss.

“Go ahead, princess, cum for me,” he murmurs against your lips. With a whine, you’re gripping him inside and out, like you’ll never let him go. Your eyes squeezed shut as he rips the orgasm from your body. “S-such a good girl, good princess, so good, g-good,” Izuku babbles as he tumbles off the edge, releasing thick ropes of sticky white inside you. His damp curls stick to his forehead as he rests his head against yours. You settle your hand in his hair and pull his head down just a little bit further to press a kiss to his lips.

“L-look, there’s so many of them,” you say, looking just behind his head to the night sky. If you didn’t know better, you’d say dozens of stars were falling from the sky just for the two of you. Izuku leans on his forearm, letting himself fall to the side and pulling you in close to him.

“You’re like my own little star who’s come to the ground,” he says quietly, kissing your temple.

“Is, is this all because of my wish earlier? Do you think?” you ask.

“I can’t be sure, but I think so.”

“Whether it is or not, this is the most I’ve felt alive in as long as I can remember,” you confess. The sun itself can’t rival what was once an ember in your chest threatening to go out. “I hope no matter what plane, I don’t have to be without you again.” Izuku pulls you closer in his arms, admiring you as you look from him to the sky once again.

“I hope so too, bunny. I hope so too.”

taglist: @patchworkpuzzle @jozhenji @hanayanetwork

#deku x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader smut #deku smut #izuku x reader smut #izuku smut #izuku midoriya x reader smut #bnha x reader #bnha x reader smut #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha x reader smut #mha smut #deku x you #izuku x you #izuku midoriya x you #bnha fantasy au #mha fantasy au

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hopelessdelusional · 10 months

Text

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Waking up in a hospital bed was not something you thought you would do in a very long time. The hospital smell, the fabric that makes up the gowns, the obnoxious sounds from the many machines that crowd the room, it was all something that you’d wanted to avoid for a long time. And yet, here you were. Your eyes droopy and hair messy, laying in a hospital bed.

“For someone who just came back from surgery, you look great.”

Rolling your eyes, you flipped the channel again. Hitoshi and Izuku had been waiting for you to get back, every time you opened your eyes they were there. You couldn’t decide if it was annoying or comforting.

“Yeah whatever, get me a pudding dickwad.”

Izuku laughed as Hitoshi stuck his tongue out at you, but left the room to get what you asked for anyways. You laid your head back, sighing deeply. The last 24 hours had been the most eventful 24 hours in a long time, and you never really had the time to sit down and process. In a way, you’re more warn out by the festival and that argument with Katsuki than the surgery that had to clean up the mess that was the inside of your body.

When you first woke up, you weren’t entirely conscious, still going in and out of consciousness. All you could see and hear was Hitoshi and Izuku talking to the doctors, hearing words such as “alcohol” and “blood.” At one point your friends saw that you were trying to wake up and they rushed to your side, feeling a hand push back your hair while another held your right hand. You really wish you could hear what they were saying, but everything was so muffled and bright. It was like being underwater with a spotlight being shined on you.

The second time you woke, and stayed awake, was after the surgery. You were tired, and grumpy, refusing to use full sentences with Izuku and Hitoshi once you were fully aware of the situation. However, these are the people that know you best, and it didn’t take them very long to break you.

When they did, you had successfully broke down sobbing, both of them practically jumping onto the bed to hold you. It had been so long since you’ve cried like that, but after the previous day of pain and stress there was no better way to let it go. You told them everything, from the pains you were getting all the way to your fight with Katsuki. They both nodded along, claiming that Katsuki had told them about the fight that night after you had been taken away in the ambulance. It had taken you a while to recover, and your heavy sobbing did worry the nurses, but you settled down eventually. After that, you noticed that your friends had sent you plenty of “get well” presents, and Shoto was on FaceTime for way too long.

Opening your eyes, you sat back up before turning to look at Izuku in the chair next to you. You couldn’t believe that the both of them stayed the night with you, just like last year. It felt all to eerily similar to last year, just, without the passing out after an argument part.

“What is it n/n? Are you still hurting? Tell me where.”

Izuku was by your side in an instant, pushing on your ribcage and watching your face for discomfort. However, your facial expression was simply a straight face and you gently pulled his hands away. He noticed the mood quickly and sat in front of you, giving you those famous doe eyes of his.

“I was such a bitch to him, Zu.”

You sat criss cross, refusing to make eye contact with the man who sat in front of you. You knew if you looked at him you would start crying again, and the swelling around your eyes just went down.

Taking another breath, you spoke again.

“I drunkenly made out with a stranger at a party, and ended up creating this whole…relationship with him! We called almost every night, texted each other everything, went out into the town together…and the whole time…I was lying to myself.”

“Lying to yourself about what, y/n?”

There was a pause after Izuku closed his mouth, and you were still looking away from him. The two of you sat there, the noises from machines around you and the TV being the only sound filling the room. You could feel Izuku’s stare, he’s always been known to have a weirdly intimate stare, his eyes being able to speak for him.

You opened your mouth to talk again, before finding you didn’t know what else to say. Izuku noticed and cupped your hands in his, and gently spoke up.

“Y/n, you knew you had feelings for him since your first day on the job,” he chuckled, making you look up at him with glaring eyes. His face softened, but the smile was still there.

Before he could speak again, Hitoshi returned with the pudding with a raised eyebrow.

“Are we having another break down?”

Izuku thinned his lips as you flipped off your best friend, but he ignored both of you and sat down next to you on the bed. He handed you the pudding and threw an arm around you, Izuku’s hands still holding your free hand.

“No, just talking,” Izuku glared at Hitoshi who threw his free hand up in defense. He looked back at you and let your hand go so you could eat your pudding, then continued to talk.

“You haven’t been lying to yourself, you’re not that type of person. You and I both know you were a hundred percent aware of your feelings, and I’m sure that’s all you could think about it. You just decided not to act on them because you were scared to mess up all the hard work you put into recovering from a pretty traumatizing event.”

As you ate your pudding you melted into the bed some more, not liking the feeling of both of your best friends staring at you. Not to mention talking about your love life made you want to pass out again so you didn’t have to be conscious for this. Maybe if you just closed your eyes…

“Do I think you lead him on? I hate to say it, but yes.”

Surprised with his words, you glanced up at him. He was looking at you, a serious expression on his face.

“There were so many different ways you could have dealt with the situation, but just because you did that doesn’t mean you’re a ‘bitch’ or deserved to be yelled at like that.”

You looked away again, but found yourself thinking over these past months. He wasn’t wrong. You liked Katsuki in not-so platonic way, put so much energy and effort into him but still called him a friend. It wasn’t right, and just like Katsuki said, you are a coward. You knew about your feelings towards the blond but you were just too scared to act on them, you were terrified something bad would happen if you did.

Surprisingly, Hitoshi was the one who spoke up again. which was probably the works of Izuku’s weird eye contact language

“You were scared, and you’re still scared. Shitty things happened to you, not just the car accident but all of your fucked up relationships too. No one is blaming you for not dating this guy, no matter how much you drooled over him.”

You smacked his chest, but Hitoshi just chuckled and continued.

“You don’t even have to date him now if you’re not ready, that’s okay. But you do have to apologize to him and explain the situation. Just talk to him, I’m more than certain he wants to talk things out too.”

More silence, but at least this one was a comfortable one since your friends were done speaking. Now, you just had to sit and think about all of this, process it.

You worked so hard to build your life back up. Your confidence, strength, mental and physical health. The idea of being in a serious relationship scared the shit out of you, not wanting to have another person worried about you. You wanted that independence, wanted to prove to yourself that you could take care of yourself, that you didn’t need someone breathing down your neck. You wanted to be strong, worthy of Katsuki’s love and care.

But, now that you think about that, it’s so stupid.

You were so worried about being a burden to all of your loved ones, that you didn’t even notice that you were drowning in yourself. Your friends, Katsuki, they wanted to be there for you. You aren’t needy, and just because they help you doesn’t mean you’re not independent or strong. They love you just as much you love them, and you should embrace them.

You love your friends.

You love Katsuki.

Your eyes widen when you take the last bite of your pudding.

You’re in love with Bakugou Katsuki.

“Oh my god,” you groan, running a hand down your face.

Izuku and Hitoshi pipe up at your response, Hitoshi raising an amused eyebrow while Izuku’s eyebrows furrow in concern.

“I’m in love with fucking Bakugou Katsuki.”

When you look back at your friends, there are two very different people looking at you. Izuku, is looking knowingly at you, with a gentle smile. Hitoshi however, your best friend, is looking at you trying not to laugh.

Groaning again, you lay back in your bed, eyes looking up at the ceiling. You feel Hitoshi leave your side and walk over to the other side of you while Izuku moves further up to replace Hitoshi’s spot.

“Okay, I have to say it,” Hitoshi sits down on the chair next to your bed as you and Izuku look at Hitoshi’s questioningly.

“Out of all the guys, him? Really? I mean I know he’s a model but there’s no way-“

Instead of letting your so-called-friend continue, you shut him up quickly with a pillow to the face. Izuku immediately burst out in laughter at the action, and you couldn’t help but giggle yourself after seeing Hitoshi’s reaction.

All this is shit you’ve gone through is scary, and in a way the future is even more terrifying. But right now, even after having surgery, you’ve never felt more secure. You have the worlds best friends, and you’re in love with Bakugou Katsuki. Now when you’re scared, you don’t have to feel weak for asking for help, you’re going to let the people who care about you, love you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

soon you’ll get better

RAHHHHH

that’s all i have to say, good day.

no seriously i rlly have nothing more to say😭😭😭 i rlly don’t think i should do fun facts, and even if i should idk if i can….also it’s like 11:53 as i’m writing this so imma just chop chop so it counts 😁😁😁

love ya!

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·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ updates every wednesday and sunday! happy wildest dreams wednesday ✧.*

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ TAGLIST: @lovelytayy @0anodite0 @bakugouswh0r3 @amethyst123 @nijirosz @dabis-vigilnate-girl @allnamesredacted @ch3rryhaze @ectoplasmictoast @cathwritestragediesnotsins @tati-the-fangirl @autumnfay @call-me-prodigy @chuugarettes @sammyam @kotoprincesa @bubblewordsofsodapop @biggestbeequeen @tqnk @el-hart @i-simp-for-mha-men

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meowzfordayz · 1 year

Text

thank you

Midoriya Izuku x Reader

Word Count: ~400

CW: none

Emergency Request Fulfilled: I just really need comfort from our dear broccoli head cuz I feel like my feelings might just explode soon…

“You’re amazing, you know?” you murmur softly, eyes settling tired on Izuku’s broad shoulders, his confused smile washing gentle and slow over you.

“What do you mean?” his head tilts, gesturing eagerly, “You’re amazing too!”

“But Midoriya-kun,” you frown slightly, familiar weight sinking to your stomach, “I’m not.”

His expression darkens with understanding, long lashes framing the protest in his stare as he steps closer to you, “You are! You’re brave enough to smile everyday, to be kind even when others are rude,” faint blush heating his cheeks, “Or clueless,” pausing to watch your reaction, “And you’re humble. You pay so much attention to words and moods, and you put studying ahead of being irresponsible,” voice growing louder, “In fact, you should study less, and spend time with me, Iida-kun, and Uraraka-chan!” continuing to ramble in your silence, “You’re always raising your hand in class, and fixing your hair, but you already look wonderful! I remember when you came in late, and even Aizawa-sensei didn’t mind because you’re usually on time,” nodding rapidly, “There are so many impressive things about you, so don’t say you aren’t amazing!”

Stopping for a breath, he finally realizes just how close he’s moved to you, eyes widening as you swallow thickly, transfixed by the smoothness of your throat, suddenly itching to press your nervous fingers to his chest — restraining himself, because he can’t quite define the feeling swelling in his pulse, and because he definitely doesn’t know whether you feel it too.

“Midoriya-kun,” you squeak, distracting yourself with the hem of your shirt, determined pressure from his gaze hot and heavy against your skin, “Areyougoingtopinmetothewall?”

Audibly gasping, he practically flings himself away, face red, arms flailing apologetically, “I’m sorry! No, no, no, I am not going to pin you to the wall! Not to anything! I didn’t notice I was, you were, I’m, ah, you’re great! I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay!” you laugh lightly, noise awkward and staggered, inhaling deeply to steady the warm swirling in your vision, “I feel a little better,” you offer shyly, his flustered composure somehow reassuring, wishing you could hold out your hand to him, “Thank you.”

He can’t bring himself to say Thank you; can’t bring himself to confess the tenderness of his thoughts, gratitude that you trust him with such intimate truths ringing in his ears. Instead, he sticks his hands in his pockets, delighted grin coaxing a smaller smile from you, content to cherish the budding colors in his heart, shades he’s never felt before stroking pleasant and promising.

“You’re welcome.”

#izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #drabble #modern au #boko no hero academia #my hero academia

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sugolara · 5 months

Text

𝙎𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙤𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧

ft. K.B x S.T x I.M x fem! reader

previous || series m.list || next

Emerging from the woods, Katsuki, Izuku, F/n and Shoto waste no time and run behind the parked cars to avoid the rotters walking in the city streets. With F/n leading them to a building where they can catch their breath, behind her followed Shoto, Izuku and lastly Katsuki.

Finding a building that seemed stable, the group entered it. Katsuki killed one of the rotters that followed behind before closing the door. F/n and Shoto killed a few that were inside while Izuku blocked the door with chairs and tables.

They set their stuff down and took a breath, feeling relieved that they made it through the night. Izuku grabbed the bag of ammos and took out the medical supplies and began patching himself up. He smiled as his wound seemed to be getting better as well as his palms.

F/n sat down on the counter and took her gun apart to clean. She used a rag that she found on the restaurant's counter and began to wipe the dirt away.

Shoto kept watch as he stared out the window while chewing on some nuts. He watched a few stragglers bump into each other and others moving towards a black cat that ran into an alley.

Katsuki was in the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets and shelf. He moved pots and pans away but felt unsatisfied when nothing decent came in view.

“Can you keep it down?” Shoto said to Katsuki as a few rotters looked their way from the clanging.

Katsuki rolled his eyes and headed to where the others were at, “Nothing.”

“Should we keep moving?” Shoto asked, watching a rotter leave his view.

“I don’t see why not.” Izuku hissed a bit from cleaning his palms, “We still need a car. And we have miles ahead from us.”

Putting her gun back together, F/n stood up, “I say we split into two. One group looks for a car while the other looks for food. Makes it faster.”

“I go with F/n.” Shoto quickly said, pulling the bag of guns on. F/n nodded and pointed at Katsuki and Izuku, “You two look for supplies. Me and Shoto will look for a car.”

Izuku slyly glared at Shoto but nodded nevertheless. Katsuki on the other hand wanted to let out a groan. He still hasn’t apologized and felt like being with Izuku would make things awkward.

When the group had gathered their stuff they headed out. They reached a four way street.

“If we don’t find anything then we meet here in 30 minutes.” They all nodded and with that, F/n and Shoto continued forward while Katsuki and Izuku took a right turn.

“You wanted to come with me so Izuku and Katsuki made up, right?” F/n asked Shoto.

He glanced to the side, “Yeah, sure. They have to anyway and we both know Katsuki won’t apologize.”

“True.” They spot a car and head to it. With the window halfway open, F/n used her butterfly knife to stab the rotter. She then opened the door and dragged it out of the car. Shoto watched as F/n used her knife to take the compartment of the bottom wheel out.

“You mentioned your dad was a survivalist.” Shoto began, “How does that work?”

“Well,” F/n grabbed the wires from underneath, “we lived on a farm outside of Musutafu. My grandfather owned the property but let us move in. I was 10 when I went to school. My dad would teach me and sometimes my mom on how to gather your own resources and how to tell time.”

F/n smiled at the thought, “I thought he was crazy. When we went on camping trips, he would bring little food and water, sometimes he’d leave me so I could find my way back. We’d go fishing but with our hands and drank water from the creak. We’d sometimes starve to. My mom never went with us because of it.

“Then, when I turned 10, he taught me how to shoot. He was a cop so he knew better.” Her smile faltered and shrugged, trying to not be affected by the memories, “He taught me to never trust people and to never love someone deeply because before you know it, they’ll be gone. They’re dead now.”

Shoto watched her smile leave and even though she was good at hiding her emotions, he could feel the sad energy she was letting out. He then glanced ahead, “...My oldest brother might still be out there.”

She stopped her movements for a moment and hesitated, “...How are you so sure he’s still alive?”

“I have a feeling.” Shoto said, “But the rest of my family is dead. Him being alive is the only hope I have left.”

F/n got out of the car and gave him a soothing smile, “Then let's hope he's in Sortson.”

He returned the smile as they both walked off to another car, “If the world wasn’t as it was today, do you think we would have met?”

F/n hummed, “Well, we did go to the same school so I’d say chances are we would have. Though I don’t think we would have been great friends.”

“What makes you say that?” Shoto asked.

“Because we’re complete opposites.” She simply said, “And your family is wealthy and I honestly don’t think they would appreciate you hanging out with a commoner.”

Shoto raised his brows in surprise, “You know my family?”

“You’re a Todoroki.” F/n looked at him, “Everyone knows who you are.”

Grunting, Izuku pulled his knife from the rotter's skull. He wiped the bloody blade on his jeans and followed Katsuki as they entered a convenience store. Hearing a rotter moaning below him, Izuku sorrowingly looked at its decapitated body and put it to rest.

The squishy sound of piercing the skull made Katsuki cringe. He flinched back when the blood squirted to his face. He wiped the blood away with a grimace.

The male next to him let out a disappointing sigh when he saw no sign of supplies, “Everything’s gone.”

Katsuki scoffed and walked further, “Has the apocalyptic taught you nothing? You gotta move the floor and tear down a wall for food.”

Izuku rolled his eyes and muttered to himself, “And clearly the apocalypse taught you to let go.”

The blonde heard but decided to leave it as he didn’t want to start another argument or upset Izuku even more. He rummaged and moved shelfs in case anybody hid something underneath it.

He tried focusing, but ever since he lashed out on Izuku and said many hurtful things, he felt guilty. What if Izuku had died and died thinking that he was at fault? Or what if F/n and Shoto died making Izuku feel guilty because Katsuki was right all along?

He didn’t want that. He couldn't bear to witness seeing Izuku’s spirit crush and couldn’t even imagine seeing his childhood friend dead. Besides, he liked the way Izuku thought. It made him feel like there is still good in such a terrible world.

From where he stood, Katsuki could see Izuku picking up empty supplies. He picked up a box of bandaids and placed three of them in his hands, “...Hey.”

Izuku eyed him and hummed, “Yeah?”

The blonde felt awkward as he thought of what to say, “So..back then, I shouldn’t have said…those things. About you dying, you getting people killed. I know that you want to help people and so do I, but sometimes…we can’t. I won’t say I’m sor-”

“I know.” Izuku let out a pleased smile, and continued a little further, “But, you are right. About everything. I have to stop thinking like the old ways and start thinking about surviving and doing things that…I’ll never forgive myself for.”

Katsuki looked down, the chipped tile beneath his foot looked to be taped on. He found it strange as he listened to Izuku. “I’m also sorry for being petty and ignoring you.”

The blonde reached down, removing the tile, “So…we good?”

“Yeah, always.” Seeing Katsuki picking a tile, Izuku moved closer to him, “What did you find?”

The cheap tile split into pieces. Underneath it was a piece of concrete and underneath that was a pair of dirty flashlights. They both grabbed one, examining it to see if it turned on. Katsuki’s light turned on fine while Izuku’s kept flickering until it stopped, his light being dimmed.

“Seems good.” Izuku muttered.

The sound of moans interrupted them. They looked at each other and exited the store, their eyes widened as to what they were seeing. A horde. A horde that could trample them within seconds.

Without hesitation, they run out of the store and head to their friends in hope they reach in time so they all have a chance to run away. Luckily, they easily spotted F/n and Shoto who turned around as Izuku and Katsui shouted at them.

The pair's eyes widened as they saw a horde just behind the green and blonde hair males. All of them run to find a safe place. Their legs hurt and their breaths fell short as the rotters seemed to get faster from their tiredness.

#katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x y/n #shoto x y/n #shoto x you

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viideku · 27 days

Text

the end

you’ll see each other again, maybe

“Y/N BEHIND YOU WATCH OUT” he screams, almost begging. running, grabbing at the ground and slipping trying desperately to reach you in time before the nomu does. you spin, face narrowly dodging the punch as he tackles you and takes the hit instead. flying halfway across the battlefield, bloodied and curled into a tight ball crying quietly when you reach him. cradling him tightly in your arms, “y-y/n i’m s-sorry i’m sorry i l-love you, so much. w-win for me..” he whispers with his last breath, wet tears gather in his eyes as they look at you for the last time before closing. “NO PLEASE i need you please” you plead with the universe to spare his life, you promise with your whole heart to be good, to do good things and to be the best you can be if the universe would just let him live. his body goes limp. your body is wracked with hard sobs as you lean over his warm body , “izuku please i love you, please come back to me”. he doesn’t listen, body filling with the cold hands of death.

“and cut. that was awesome guys good job take 5” the director yells as he applauds and walks away. izuku sits up and grabs you in a tight hug kissing your temple , “baby!! great job, you did so good” he smothers you in more kisses , “almost made me cry” he says sheepishly. you smile and thank him not knowing what you’d ever do if he died for real just happy a warm, healthy izuku was still warm, healthy and most importantly alive. you kiss him deeply and he blushes and giggles. ��get a room fucking saps” katsuki yells from the other side of the room, as you two laugh in each others arms.

a/n: can you tell i can’t write angst or more like can’t handle it and can only write happy endings..ὺ.ύ

#bnha #actor au #deku x reader

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eris-snow · 10 months

Text

𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Tags: Deku's birthday series 2023, izuku x fem!reader, angst

The days are numbered, and you make sure to remember. It’s still Zuku, still the same green-haired boy who you spent hours with every day of the week.

I didn’t sleep well last night. Could we talk after school? Please?

-Izuku

You sigh as you rub your face, nodding your head. Izuku had given you the note with hopeful eyes the minute you stepped foot into the classroom. This was the price you had to pay for blowing him off for an entire day.

It wasn’t that you wanted to, you just had to…organise your thoughts. Katsuki was a good person to have through it. The entire car ride home, he’d allowed you to lean into his side as he pats your once-injured shoulder. He’d be a good older brother if he wasn’t the only child.

“Rooftop, 3 pm?” He asks, and you nod again. You open your mouth to tell him something, but then you close it again.

Your voice is thick, and everything you want to tell him is stuck in your windpipe.

Finally, you manage a, “See you later,” before slumping down on your seat and try to catch a nap before homeroom starts.

“So…” Izuku laughs nervously, fiddling with his thumbs. Wind blows his messy curls around, ruffling them up even more as he addresses his questions head-on. “Is there something you’re not telling me? I understand if don’t want to, but—”

“The feeling,” You interrupt. “Can you…tell me what it feels like? The feeling you told me about after the villain attack?”

Izuku frowns, but he relents. “I described it in my note. Nostalgic. Easy to talk to, and someone…” He pauses. “Like someone I met before.” So close.

Your breath is shaky and biting the bullet, you blurt out, “I was at Tartarus yesterday.”

“WHAT?” Izuku squawks, before slapping his hand on his mouth immediately. “That’s where you and Kacchan went yesterday?”

He sounds so surprised that it is almost accusing. Quickly, you defend yourself. “All Might was with us—”

“All Might was with you?”

Crap. If this was an otome game, you would have chosen the wrong dialogue option.

You inhale deeply first, before exhaling. “I used to have this friend, I told you about him, right? The one that played the first version of Secrets with me.”

“You mentioned him.” Izuku lowers himself back to his seat, still weary.

“He got hit by a quirk of a guy in there. My friend may be gone, but—” You wince internally, “I wanted to know what happened. The villain said a couple of things that…got to me. I didn’t want to make you worried yesterday.”

“Well, you failed at doing that, but,” Izuku scoots closer, rubbing your shoulder. “I appreciate the thought.”

“I didn’t mean to keep you up yesterday,” You admit, eyes averted. “Sorry about that.”

You’re sorry about a lot of things.

“Don’t apologise,” He scolds, shaking his head. “If anything, I’m surprised you don’t find my description of you creepy.”

“Zuku, you’ve done weirder things,” You sigh, staring directly in front of you. Maybe if you don’t look at him, you won’t have to deal with everything that was going on.

You wish.

Yesterday was a stark reminder of what had started this mess, and now, you can’t get it out of your head.

You finally make eye contact with Izuku, seeing traces of his old self in him now.

He was always so caring, and curious.

Always the first one you’d tell if something was wrong.

Except, you can’t exactly do that now, can you?

(The day right after he found out he was quirkless)

“Zuku?” You glance around the clearing, picnic basket in hand. “I know you’re here, Zuku. There’s no point in hiding.”

There’s a pregnant pause, before Izuku peeks out from behind a tree.

“I made sandwiches,” You say, holding the basket out. “Mind if I join you?”

“Only for the sandwiches,” He mutters, slumping down again.

You don’t say anything that entire time you were there, simply letting him cry as you hug him tightly and listen.

It seems like he’s always the one doing that for you now.

Izuku frets over your shoulder even more on the roof. You check up with each other, and that’s when you realise: This is it. It’s going to be one of the last times this year that you’re ever going to have conversations this easy with Izuku.

Sure, he warmed up quickly, but each version of him wasn’t the same. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, and each time you became friends with Izuku again, you felt your relationship getting even more distant.

This year was the only exception because you’d been through a war together.

And now you were going to lose him. All over again.

“You don’t have to tell me now,” You snap out of your thoughts and glance his way, startled. Izuku continues without pause, “Is the reason I feel like something’s off because of you?” He looks at me curiously, and all you can think about is how that curiosity was mirrored in his eyes so many years ago.

It’s been way too long, hasn’t it?

“Yes.”

It flies out of your mouth before you can even think, and the lack of sleep must really be getting to you because you swear a hint of recognition glimmers in his eyes for just a second.

When you blink again, however, it’s gone.

“Oh.” He mumbles. “Okay.”

What you would give to get him to remember him.

I don’t want you to find out why you feel like something’s missing. I’m afraid that if you get to close to the truth, you’ll only forget it all over again.

#mha #mha fanfiction #deku x reader #izuku x y/n #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bnha midoriya #midoriya x y/n #Deku's birthday series 2023

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doctorweebmd · 10 months

Text

night before the storm

Izuku gasps awake. His whole body is shaking, and for a groggy second, he considers whether there’s an earthquake going on. Fingertips grip into his bedsheets in an attempt to steady them – he recoils instantly, feeling how absolutely damp they are under him.

With all the effort in the world, he sits upright, breathing deeply, attempting to dislodge that weight that’s sat on his chest. Shaking fingers brush through sweat-soaked curls and, as we wipes against his eyes, he notices there’s a wetness too.

Whatever dream he was having lays heavy on his subconscious. He can’t seem to recall any of it; but whatever it was, it’s left him feeling scooped up and dried out, an empty scull left to decompose in a desert. He checks his phone and closes his eyes tighter. Its an awful night not to get any sleep.

He climbs out of bed, cringing at the sensation of the soaked through t-shirt sticking to his chest. Quickly, he changes into another set of sleep clothes, then gather his sheets. He’s too exhausted to wash them properly, but there’s no way he’s falling asleep on this cold sweat. He throws them in his laundry basked and, quietly as he can, walks out of the dorm room.

Izuku looks up and down the hallway, tyring his best to ensure that no one else was awake. He’d feel terrible if he disturbed the sleep of his classmates, considering the day they’re going to have tomorrow. Carefully, he tiptoes down the darkned hall. There’s something ominous about the silence, the walls, the closed doors around him. His legs, too, feel like its difficult to move, like they’re stuck in some kind of goo. Whatever nightmare he was having, it seems to have lingered.

He makes it down to the laundry room with hardly a single noise.

With his bed sheets in the dryer, he sits down at the side of the laundry room, thinking. They’ve gone over the plan a hundred times. They’re got the element of surprise, after all. They’ve got every pro hero on their side. They’re as ready as they’re going to be. So why Izuku feels like there’s something he hasn’t done is nagging at him, picking at his brain like dried paint on a wall. There’s something under there. There’s something old and hidden, but god do they not have the time to go there.

Having to waste an hour, Izuku wanders out to the common room, going to the refrigerator. He grabs a bottle of water. He’s probably dehydrated with how much he’s sweat out.

In the darkness, he wanders over the couch to wait, maybe watch some TV, barely registering that there is already someone sitting there, in the pitch darkness like a freak.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Wah – Kacchan?” Izuku’s heart jumps so hard it tickles his tonsils before he’s able to force it back into his chest.

Katsuki Bakugou is laying down on the couch, knees hooked over the armrest while his head lies on the cushion. His gaze does not drift to Izuku – instead, it stays focused on the ceiling.

Something about his expression makes Izuku want to burst into tears. To collapse to his knees, to cry and dissolve into the very floor beneath him.

“…Bad dream,” Izuku finally answers, sitting down at the other end of the couch. Somehow, even with more than a full cushion between them, he feels Katsuki’s warmth. His palms are suddenly damp and he wipes them, as discretely as he can, against his shorts before looking away.

There’s a nervous energy buzzing through his entire body, and he doesn’t know why. Things between himself and Kacchan have been okay recently. More than okay.

“What about?” Kacchan asks, sounding sincerely curious. Izuku feels his shift on the couch, but he can’t seem to look at him. Something is scratching in his brain; peaking that paint back, insisting that Izuku get a look at what’s underneath.

He does not want to see what’s underneath.

“I don’t remember,” Izuku admits. To do something with his hands, he unscrews the water bottle (barely – it takes him an embarrassingly long time with how hard his fingers are shaking and with the explicit knowledge that, somehow, Kacchan is watching him) and downs it.

“Shit – are you getting’ sick?”

There’s a warm palm against his clammy forehead and a body that’s suddenly much too close; Izuku acts on instinct, grabbing the other’s wrist and pulling it away from his face.

So he’s left with an incredulous looking Kacchan, eyebrows furrowed in what certainly can’t be concern, red eyes burning him alive on the spot. His body heat is stifling. Its only because of that, Izuku figures, that the heat is ascending up his neck into his cheeks.

He drops the other’s wrist like its physically scalding him, eyes drifting down to his own legs. Kacchan does not pull back.

Why doesn’t Kacchan pull back?

“M’ okay, Kacchan. Thank you for worrying about me.”

“I’m not worried about you,” the other spits back instantly, and Izuku can’t help the smile that inadvertently takes over his face.

They sit in silence. Katsuki doesn’t leave – Izuku wonders why, briefly. There’s so much he wants to talk to the other about. They have vehemently talked about none of it, not the apology, not Katsuki’s sacrifice for him. The other still sports the scars; Izuku could barely take his eyes off them when he first came back. He wants to thank him, but knows that it would only make Katsuki angry. He wants to ask why, but knows it would make Katsuki even angrier.

Really, all he wants is to sit here. Next to him. He always wants to be next to him.

It dawns on him like a sunrise, gradual and natural. Like it was always going to happen. Like it has already happened, hundreds of millions of times before.

He has no idea why he’s never realized this before.

“Hey… Kacchan?” Izuku starts, heart hammering away. He smiles to himself. Katsuki looks at him. Both their hands rest between them on the couch. They’re too close to one another – if Izuku was a braver man, he’d nudge his hand over, intertwine their fingers. But, no. Facing the demon lord and saving the world? That’s doable, Holding Kacchan’s hand? Absolutely impossible.

“Hm?” the other says, and it must be the exhaustion talking, because it almost sounds like the other is holding his breath.

“I…um. I have something to tell you.” Izuku swallows down the lump in his throat. There is pain in his chest – sweet and constant. He doesn’t like it. He also doesn’t hate it. He doesn’t know how he feels, he supposes.

They meet eyes and Katsuki is jumping off the couch.

“What? The fuck. Tell me after the battle tomorrow! Seriously – “ he seems flustered, his own face becoming a bright pink. Izuku tilts his head in confusion at the response. He stomps away, down the hallway, but doesn’t leave.

“You addicted to distracting me or somethin’?”

Izuku bites his lip and glances back down to his thighs, frowning slightly. Yeah, this is probably the absolute worst time in the world for a confession. It’s a selfish thing to do.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Hey.”

Izuku glances behind him. Katsuki has his hands shoved in his pockets, cheeks a perfect pink. His eyes seem to be glowing in the moonlight. Izuku can spend the rest of his life in silences like this with him. Just being here together.

“…When we make it out of this,” Katsuki says, slowly, deliberately. Confidently. Izuku’s chest aches. He doesn’t understand why.

“… I have something to tell you too, Izuku.”

Izuku’s heart skips straight over the moon reflecting in Katsuki’s eyes and into the stars.

“..You’re getting good at – um. Calling me by my first name,” Izuku says non-sensically.

“…I’ve had practice,” Katsuki says. Its mysterious with a hint of nostalgia and something about the way he says it makes Izuku’s skin crawl uncomfortably.

“…Get some sleep, nerd.”

#bkdk #dkbk #drabble #this is a kill your darlings sort of situation #was a scene out of chapter 10 of nothing else fills but.... i can't use it anymore #but liked it too much to fully delete it #...anyway #read my fics boy

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bkdk-art · 1 year

Text

What's your worst fear?

Chapter 3 - Confront

Summary: Izuku gets hit by quirk which reveals his worst fear – losing Katsuki. Katsuki doesn’t know how to deal with it, confused by his own feelings for the nerd and scared to confront him. Katsuki's avoidance makes Izuku worry his worst fear is coming true - he scared Katsuki away.

Fandom: My Hero Academia / Boku no hero academia

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Inko, Uraraka Ochako, Bakusquad

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

Word Count: 5,000

Rating: General / Teen

AO3-Link

Notes: Takes place after current events / post-graduation / Izuku and Katsuki are hero partners

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

_________________________________

Katsuki had ended up in of the agency’s lounges, with some beds and couches and a TV on the wall. He had never used them before, because he would always go straight home after his shifts, longing for his own couch or bed.

Or Izuku’s, if he was being honest. He spent half of his free time at the nerd’s and vice versa.

Katsuki sighed, rubbing his eyes.

He didn’t seem to be able to not think about Izuku for just a few fucking minutes.

There was a knock on the door and before Katsuki could answer, he saw Round face sticking her head into the room.

“Can I come in?”, she asked.

Katsuki sat up, just shrugging for an answer. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to her, to anyone actually, but he needed the distraction.

Uraraka closed the door and walked up to Katsuki, sitting down on a chair, across from him.

“So”, she said after a few moments of silence, “I heard you nearly burnt down one of the trailing halls.”

He shrugged again, suddenly at a loss of words.

“I figured, you must be physically and mentally drained and wanted to check on you.”

He clicked his tongue, looking away from her.

“I’m fine”, he answered.

“I wish I could say, I’m glad to hear that but I can’t. Cause I don’t believe you”, she said, calm and collected.

Katsuki grunted. “What do you want me to say then?”, he looked at her, frowning.

“The truth”, she said simply, “Or that you don’t want to talk about it but don’t lie to me like that. I’m just worried about you!”

He gritted his teeth.

He didn’t need anyone to worry about him! He didn’t need all that questions! He didn’t need his friends constantly texting him if he was alright! Especially when it was Izuku who was still in the hospital, not being released until-

Then it hit him.

He hadn’t answered to Izuku’s text. He hadn’t asked him why his concussion wasn’t wearing off. He knew nothing about what had happened since he had left the hospital in the middle of the night or rather, early in the morning.

“Have you heard from him?”, he asked, ignoring her statement.

At that she sighed deeply, lowering her head. “No. What about you?”

Katsuki closed his eyes. “I haven’t talked to him since before our meeting.”

They were silent for a moment, the only sound coming from the offices around them and some people chatting in the hallways.

“Did you two have a fight?”

Katsuki looked at her, studying her sincere face. She was really only trying to lend him an ear.

He cleared his throat.

“No”, he eventually said, “I just… walked out of him after he woke up, needing some space.”

“Because of his breakdown?”

He shrugged. “Rather after finding out what had caused it in the first place.”

“Which was…?”, she asked carefully. When he didn’t respond, she added: “I don’t want to be nosey and I respect your decision to honor Deku-kun’s privacy, I really do. But I’m just saying, you’re in there too, Bakugou and you also have a right to get things off your chest. Maybe not to me if you’re not comfortable but, like, you know, maybe to someone else.”

Katsuki let out a long deep breath.

“Yeah maybe”, he said, not looking at her, feeling way too flustered at his vulnerable state right now, “But I have to make sense of it by myself first.”

Katsuki didn’t know Izuku’s true feelings behind all of this but he knew that for him, it all went back to his… his… his love for the nerd and he just couldn’t discuss this right now with anyone. His friends kind of knew about his feelings for Izuku but he never openly talked to them about it, so springing it onto them now would just cause more racket than he could handle without exploding something.

Uraraka nodded, standing up from her chair. She placed one hand on his shoulder, offering him a comforting smile. “You’ll figure it out, the two of you. You always do.��

Something in the way her eyes pierced through him, something about the sheer confidence in her voice caught him off guard.

“Does he talk to you about me?”

She hadn’t expected that, he could tell.

“Well, of course”, she didn’t meet his eyes anymore, walking backwards to the doors, “You’re together all the time, there’s no story without you in it anymore.”

That wasn’t what he had meant and he knew that she knew that. But she didn’t let anything slip out, probably for the same reason he kept his mouth shut – to respect Izuku’s privacy.

“See you around”, she said, opening the door, “If you need anything, just reach out. Everyone cares for you and would be-“

“I get it”, he cut her off, lifting his hand, “Thanks, Round face.”

She chuckled at that. “Thought you’d call me by my name from now on, as you did in the battlefield.”

Katsuki huffed at that, rolling his eyes. “I just couldn’t remember your Hero name”, he said, putting on a little smirk to let her know he was joking.

She grinned back, waving before leaving the room.

Katsuki sighed as silence wrapped itself around him, reaching for his phone to make a phone call.

~~~

Izuku wasn’t able to stay focused enough to listen to his mother, who was visiting him to eat dinner with him. Which made him feel guilty, since she had a rough day at work, he could tell, but she still made time for him, so he should at least listen to her!

But Katsuki still hadn’t answered or had reached out to him whatsoever and Izuku was just freaked out.

Had he finally chased him away? Did he make him feel so uncomfortable that Katsuki didn’t want to have anything to do with him? Was Izuku too much for Katsuki, was he finally fed up? Maybe being the person Izuku was most afraid of losing wasn’t something he wanted to be and-

“Izuku?”

“Hmm?”, he looked at his mom, “I’m sorry, what? I got distracted.”

“It’s okay”, she said, “What were you thinking about?”

Izuku felt himself grow anxious. “Nothing”, he said.

His mother smiled at him but looked worried nonetheless.

“Well, I’m glad you decided to meet up with a therapist and I’m also happy the doctors found out your headache is a normal side effect of this villain’s quirk and that it will wear off soon.”

“Yeah”, Izuku whispered, taking a bite of his meal.

The villain hadn’t been very cooperative about the information regarding his quirk. But the police apparently had offered him some kind of deal and he had told them everything about how they had planned this massive attack and also gave some information about his quirk away.

How it worked – by touch or through eye contact. How long it was normally active – around 3 hours. How headache and nausea were common side effects, mostly due to the enormous stress of a having a panic attack for several hours straight. And that he knew of two people who had killed themselves while having those traumatic responses.

Izuku clenched his fists at that thought.

This was truly one of the most powerful quirks one could think of. It was offensive since a person in that state wasn’t able to fight anymore but it was also perfect for obtaining information.

And for wrecking relationships, he thought bitterly.

~~~

Katsuki was at his apartment, eating the food he had made for himself, but he couldn’t enjoy it.

His mind was still stuck on his conversation with Round face and how defensive she had acted when he asked her about Izuku and whether or not he talked about him.

Once again – it got him hoping.

But his hope made him feel restless at the same time. Because even if Izuku might have similar feeling for Katsuki – did that really mean they had a future?

Sure, Katsuki wanted nothing more than that but they were partners, after all, dating would make everything so much more complicated. And even if they would get past that, there was still their past and how Katsuki didn’t deserve this ridiculous kindhearted person and how they triggered each other, constantly worrying about each other.

He sighed.

Katsuki felt lost, not knowing what to do.

But he knew that if he would tell his friends about it, they would tell him that he was just lying to himself and that he was just scared and wanted things to stay the way they were, because that’s how everything had worked out pretty damn fine for the last couple of years.

And they would be right.

But…

The sound of an incoming message interrupted his train of thoughts

His stomach dropped when he read Izuku’s name on the screen.

He swallowed hard. He hadn’t texted or called the nerd, too scared to confront him in any way.

He was such a jerk.

His fingers were trembling when he opened the message.

Hey Kacchan, Izuku had texted him, I was wondering how your day was? I heard you called my mom? You could’ve also called me.

Katsuki was hyper stressed out, suddenly it became hard so breathe.

The hoping, the circling thoughts, the hoping, the guilt, the fucking hoping! Everything had tired him out and facing Izuku right now was one of the hardest things he could think of.

I didn’t want to wake you in case you were sleeping, he texted back, not lying but not telling the whole truth of him being terrified either, My day was okayish. Glad your headache is just a normal shitty side effect.

Okayish – again, something Katsuki didn’t want to lie about, so he didn’t. He just wouldn’t tell him the whole truth about smoking up the training hall, almost passing out and all that stuff.

Thanks, me too, Izuku replied, ‘Okayish” doesn’t sound too good. Are you resting properly? And you wouldn’t have woken me up and even if, I wouldn’t have cared.

Katsuki closed his eyes, feeling even worse. Izuku was in the damn hospital, recovering from a trauma-quirk-attack, probably nervous about the therapy session tomorrow Inko had told him about and Katsuki avoided him at all cost. Even calling Inko, listening to her teary voice explaining how Izuku was getting better and that even though it was only a rather slow improvement that it was perfectly normal, considering the quirk at work and how he had finally decided to give therapy a shot – something Katsuki would only believe after Izuku had actually attended it.

Katsuki had felt a thousand pounds lighter. And yet, he didn’t tell Izuku how relieved he was, sincerely asking him about his wellbeing, still running away from him.

He was the worst.

He heard another message coming in.

I would’ve liked it, actually.

Katsuki blinked a few times. Did he just-

I would’ve liked to hear your voice, tbh.

Katsuki whole stomach was on fire. He could just stare at the message.

The hoping, the hoping, the hoping, the…

Guilt.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, tightening his grip around the phone, almost breaking it.

He was letting Izuku do all the work, he was aware of that. But meeting Izuku half way was just so fucking scary, Katsuki was already shaking just from the thought of it.

The sudden ringing of his phone startled Katsuki, making him jump to his feet. Should he just answer the nerd? What should he say and-

And then Katsuki saw the name on the screen.

“What is it?”, he answered, after taking in a few breaths to calm himself down.

“Hey!”, Kirishima exclaimed, “How are you, man? We’re all hanging out at Sero’s place, wanna swing by?”

Katsuki knew he had to deal with Izuku, had to deal with what the nerd had just texted him, how he felt about him and most importantly how Katsuki ended up to be the major object of his worst fear but – Katsuki really needed the company, maybe even some advice if he felt like it. But only if he felt like it.

“Bakugou?”

“Don’t ask me questions about the nerd, alright?”

“Gotcha!”, Kirishima said, sounding excited but earnest at the same time.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

~~~

“I’ll head home now, if that’s alright with you”, Izuku’s mother said, patting his hand.

She had stayed for a few hours, chatting with him whenever he was present enough to do so.

“Yeah sure, thanks mom, for visiting me!”, he leaned forward to hug her.

“Don’t thank me for that”, she smiled at him after he pulled back, “But let me ask you something: Is there something else going on besides the side effect of the quirk?”

Izuku had a hard time meeting her eyes because he didn’t want to lie to her. But he didn’t feel like opening up either.

He was scared of the therapy session. He really regretted agreeing to it. And he still felt embarrassed about his acting out and how it played all over the media.

But most of all…

“I miss Kacchan”, he whispered, “And I’m worried I’ve upset him with my breakdown.”

“Oh dear”, his mother brought her hand to his cheek, “I told you already, Katsuki-kun called me today, asking about you. And he didn’t sound upset at all. He seemed rather like he missed you too.”

Izuku swallowed hard, hating how that increased his headache.

“Then why didn’t he visit today?”

Inko let out a long deep breath. “I don’t know, Izuku. Maybe you ask him?”

Izuku shrugged and nodded at the same time, not wanting to admit that he already told Katsuki that he missed his voice, mustering all his courage for that one and that now, Katsuki wasn’t texting him back again.

Izuku felt miserable.

“Maybe I’ll try that, thanks”, he forced a smile, “But now get some rest, mom.”

She placed a kiss on top of his head and made him promise to call when he needed her.

As soon as she left the room, Izuku felt like he was about to crack. Just cracking open, letting everything out, every shaky breath, every stinging tear, every scream.

But then he reminded himself that he was at the hospital and he couldn’t disturb the other patients and the medical staff like that. He had to behave like a Hero, even now.

Only if he would feel like one, instead of that pathetic version of himself.

Katsuki didn’t reach out to him all day and now he wasn’t answering his texts and Izuku felt embarrassed out of his mind for sending that text and there was no use in deleting it because Katsuki had already seen it! And went offline the next second!

Izuku grunted in his hands, tossing in his bed.

He didn’t remember when he had felt this anxious in the last couple of months. Well, besides the quirk-attack probably but he didn’t remember that one, so…

Izuku had kept his feelings for Katsuki hidden, all those years. Also from himself for a significant amount of time, but there was no use of denying it anymore. At least not towards himself and not to his friends, who had suspected it for years by now.

But Katsuki was another story. Izuku didn’t want to ruin things between him and the blond. He was his childhood friend, his rival, his partner and they had gone through hell to reach the point they were at now.

Izuku didn’t want to risk it.

So why had he written this message?!

Oh my god, he thought, his breath speeding up, I messed up. I lost him. For good this time.

~~~

Katsuki hadn’t expected his friends to really not ask him about Izuku but strangely enough they pulled themselves together.

Either because they didn’t want to be blown up into pieces or they saw just how gutted Katsuki felt and that he was in no state to just chat about it.

He had told them, how Izuku was doing of course, keeping them up to date. Izuku was their friend too after all and they were worried sick for him.

They had played some card game with the most ridiculous rules Kaminari for sure had just made up and now they were just kind of hanging out, now and then someone said something, showing something on their phone while music was playing in the background.

It turned out to be Katsuki’s worst nightmare, because now he had time to think again and was low key panicking what he should answer the nerd. He had left him on read for too long already, but his stomach was hurting way too bad to come up with anything.

“Yo, Blasty.”

Katsuki snapped out of his thoughts and looked over to where Pinky was sitting. They had all squeezed onto Sero’s couch.

“Hmm?”, Katsuki lifted his chin, signaling her to go on.

“You’re mumbling.”

Shit.

Holy shit!

“For fuck’s sake”, he growled, rolling his eyes, “The nerdiness is contagious.”

The others chuckled at that.

“Don’t worry”, Kaminari said, “You’ve always been kind of a nerd.”

Katsuki scuffed. Just thinking about his All Might Action Card was enough to shut his denials down.

“So…”, Kirishima started with a way too sincere look on his face, “You were mumbling something about Midoriya?”

Katsuki clicked his tongue and looked away from them, feeling embarrassed and worried that his face might flush.

It wasn’t like he didn’t trust these guys, even if he wouldn’t admit it to them but he just didn’t know where to start in all of this mess.

“I mean, you love him, right?”

“What?”, Katsuki swirled his head to look at Mina who had asked the question.

Now he was definitely blushing.

“Don’t sweat”, Sero said, standing up from the couch to charge his phone, “We know.”

Katsuki grumbled at that, rubbing his eyes.

What a shitshow.

“Well, thanks for letting me know”, Katsuki said after a while.

They all gave him a crooked smile and it somehow warmed Katsuki up from the inside out.

“Okay”, he let out a deep breath, “Then I guess, I can just dive right in.”

How they were looking at him, expecting looks on their faces, eyes wide like their eyeballs were about to pop out. He would have laughed at their dumb faces if he hadn’t been so stressed out.

“He…”, Katsuki shrugged, “He kind of sends me signals and, I guess, I don’t know how to deal with that.”

A long silence followed after that.

Katsuki felt himself grow irritated immediately. They were just dumbfoundedly staring at him.

“What?!”, he said between gritted teeth.

“Like”, Kaminari said, “Like, you mean, he’s been sending you signals for ages now, right?”

Katsuki frowned. “No, I mean, since the attack, he-“

Their eyes went even bigger.

“Shit, bro”, Kaminari looked at him as if he was almost pitying him, “Where did you have your eyes all these years? I thought only on Midoriya but somehow you didn’t see him at all, did you?”

Katsuki swallowed hard.

The hoping, oh, that fucking hoping.

“Like what?”, he asked.

He needed to know. He needed to know what he had forbid himself to see all this time.

“Pff”, Kaminari shook his head, “Freaking everything!”

The others nodded eagerly.

“Like, come on now”, Sero said, “just looking at the first and second year of UA and how he acted out, only when it was about you. His reaction to you getting kidnapped… man, I swear”, Sero shook his head, “We were far off from where you guys were but Midoriya’s scream and howling frightened the living shit out of me.”

Again, agreeing nods.

Katsuki’s stomach twisted.

You’ll leave a corpse behind, Shigaraki’s words echoed in Katsuki’s head from their second battle, I’m sure it’ll make for a lovely present. Judging by how enraged he became when I skewered you last time.

Katsuki had made himself believe that Izuku would have reacted in all those situations for anybody in the exact same way. That it hadn’t been about him at all.

This got him hoping once again, but it nagged at him too. He didn’t want Izuku to feel all of that negative stuff because of him.

“And”, Pinky went on, “just everything about his mannerism around you, how he beams and all that stuff you would call sappy and I guess, that’s fine. It’s not like you’re being so much more subtle.”

Katsuki felt like cold water had been splashed into his face.

“Hmm?”, he meant to sound challenging but it was just a husky sound.

“You let him get away with just everything, Bakugou”, Kirishima laughed, “And I don’t mean calling you Kacchan, which is cute though!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes.

“But I mean, like everything from getting you to cook for him every other day to getting you to act more polite. I mean, you’re like…”, he shrugged, at a loss of words.

“Basically, like an old married couple”, Kaminari concluded and Kirishima gave him a thumbs up.

The hoping. The feeling crawled in every cell of Katsuki’s body, making him feel giddy.

So there was a reason to hope. But there was also a reason for his guilt.

“And yes, Midoriya always went out for you”, Sero added, as if reading Katsuki’s mind, “but you did the same, you took very good care of his safety back in school and now too, even of his eating and sleeping habits. I know you two have history und you can’t let go of it for some reason when Midoriya already did. Just don’t take that opportunity away from you, man. Just don’t.”

Katsuki clenched his fists.

“He’d find someone else. Someone nicer.”

At least five people among their colleagues and former classmates came instantly to his mind that adored the greenhead and have wanted to get into his pants forever. People who wouldn’t snarl at interviewers or the PR-mangers at the agency. Who would fucking answer his damn texts.

“But he doesn’t want to!”, Mina let out a frustrated growl, “I mean, sure, I can’t speak on his behalf but don’t you take that decision away from him!”

Katsuki closed his eyes.

Mina was right. Letting Izuku have a say in all of this before Katsuki just decided to turn his back on their… their relationship – in what sense ever – was the absolute least. It was the base line, to be precise.

His heart was hammering in his chest, he realized. It almost hurt.

“Scared as shit, guys, I swear, I’m not built for this”, he admitted after a long moment of silence.

“Yeah, you are, built for it, that is.”, Sero disagreed, “You just don’t have a lot of practice.”

Katsuki nodded at that. Couldn’t fight with that.

He opened his mouth to say something, yet another doubt, another counterargument, another fear he wished they would reason away, but before he could make a single sound, his phone started ringing.

Katsuki reached out for it, scared of seeing Izuku’s name on the screen but when he recognized the hospital’s number, he felt more than just scared.

“Bakugou?”, Kaminari had placed his hand on his shoulder, “Are you alright?”

“Don’t know”, he whispered, pressing the green button, “Hello?”

He felt nauseous, scared of bad news about Izuku, some complications or shit like hat.

“Good evening, Bakugou-san”, a soft voice spoke from the phone and even before the person introduced herself, Katsuki recognized her as Izuku’s doctor.

“Is something wrong with him?”, he couldn’t help to interrupt her.

His friends were staring at him, worry on their faces and Kaminari even strengthened his grip on Katsuki’s shoulder.

The doctor sighed and Katsuki’s heart ached.

“He’s not getting his full rest, to be honest, and that’s the one thing he needs right now.”

“Is he”, Katsuki felt his face turn grim, “wandering off or something like that?”

He would kill the nerd. He would straight up knock him out if that was the only way of getting this stubborn-

“No, that’s not the problem. Well, rather, it’s emotional drain that’s slowing his recovery down.”

Katsuki felt his mouth growing dry. “What drain exactly?”

You coward, he told himself, You damn well know which fucking drain!

“Well, his monitoring results suggest that he is in a chronic state of stress, he sure seems anxious. Bakugou-san”, her voice turned determined, “I don’t want to cross a line here and I don’t know what happened between you and Midoriya-san but I think that seeing you would change his state for sure.”

Katsuki’s heart missed a beat.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Great. I’ll let the guard know to let you through. It’s already past visiting hours.”

Bakugou huffed. “Thanks, doc.”

“Of course. Be safe.”

Katsuki hung up and looked at the others.

“Is he okay?”, Sero asked.

“Say he’s okay, please”, Kaminari brought his hands to his face, “I just can’t with him, why is he always getting in so much trouble.”

Katsuki grumbled at that. “Cause he’s on top of the game, that’s why. Gets the heaviest opponents, and shitty villains target him the most.”

He knew that the same applied to him. But not in the exact same way, he was still a few steps behind the greenhead, maybe he always would be. But instead of being infuriated as before, Katsuki felt motivated. Frustrated at times, maybe, but motivated nonetheless.

“Spit it out, you’re scaring me!”, Mina urged it.

Oh, shit.

“He’s not feeling so good right now”, he tried to avoid details, “But all in all he’s okay, on the way to recovery, don’t worry, just as I told you earlier.”

They all loosened up, sighing in relief.

“But I’ll get going”, Katsuki stood up from the couch, “Gotta meet him halfway, right?”

He smirked at their smiley faces and stary eyes.

“Get your man!”, Kirishima grinned at him.

Yeah. He would.

~~~

Izuku focused on his breathing but it didn’t help.

His stomach ached, his chest felt tight, his arms and legs were tingling and his breathing just wouldn’t calm down.

And the tears. Those annoying tears that wouldn’t stop escaping the corner of his eyes.

Everything just hurt.

He would end up having to deal with questions about his breakdown for months, every interview would be just about how he had thrown himself on Katsuki and he couldn’t bare it, not if this incident had made Katsuki distance himself from Izuku.

A sob escaped his mouth and the backlash just made Izuku’s head feel like bursting open.

He just wanted to sleep, was that too much to ask for?

He also wanted Katsuki right by his side, his hand in his own but he knew that that would be too much to ask, so he didn’t even dare think of it, but sleep?

Why wasn’t he allowed to sleep?

Izuku sniffled, wiping his tears away although new ones were already dripping from his lashes.

When he heard a sound from the door, he turned his face more into the pillow, so the nurse wouldn’t have to deal with that wretched sight of him.

But the person approaching just stopped right before Izuku’s bed, not doing or saying anything.

After a few seconds, Izuku dared to take a glance and was struck.

“Ka-Kacchan?”, he stuttered.

Maybe he was hallucinating.

While he considered the chances of this being just an illusion, he registered Katsuki’s shiny eyes.

“Kacchan”, Izuku sat up in alarm, “Are you crying?”

“Tch”, Katsuki sniffled, shaking his head in disbelief, “You’re one to talk, nerd.”

Izuku huffed, wiping his eyes once again.

A few seconds of silence went by. The air was tense.

Izuku’s heart was making funny things. Beating fast at the sight of Katsuki but throbbing painfully at the memory of his breakdown and Katsuki’s reaction to it or rather his lack of reaction.

“Just fucking hate seeing you like this”, Katsuki broke the silence and stepped closer, moving the chair up to the head of Izuku’s bed, so he could sit directly next to Izuku, face to face.

Izuku could just stare at Katsuki while he moved, sat down and then – Izuku’s breath hitched – leaned forwards, placing a hand on Izuku’s cheek.

“I’m sorry I’m late”, Katsuki whispered and a shiver run down Izuku’s spine.

Izuku closed his eyes, squeezing fresh tears out of his eyes.

“Mean, Kacchan”, he said, “Letting me wait like that, I thought you were done with me.”

That’s when Katsuki leaned his forehead against Izuku’s, their noses almost touching.

“I’m so sorry. I fucked up”, his voice broke, “I will never be done with you, I never could. I’m sorry to make you think that.”

Izuku couldn’t believe this was happening.

Katsuki was so close!

Sure, they still needed to talk about all of this and what it meant but as long as Katsuki was this close, reassuring him not to leave him, he would be fine.

“Make it up to me, then”, Izuku managed to smile.

“Gotcha”, Katsuki promised, making it sound like an oath.

#bkdk #bkdk fanfic #bakudeku #bakugou x deku #katsuki x izuku #katsuizu #katsudeku #decchan #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bkdk angst #bakusquad

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ofmermaidstories · 2 years

Text

dancing (with the windows open)

(‼️📍18+/MDNI — content/trigger warnings for: dark/problematic content, yandere izuku (and all that being a yandere entails), smut but it’s dubious consent/non-consent, kidnapping, suicidal thoughts, vague horror themes—look, Reader is not having a good time in this, and that is the point!!! even through a mermcore filter, this is very much dead dove, babies!!! dead dove: do NOT eat!!!!!)

In your dreams you are fourteen years old again: riding your bike lazily through the summer heat, sweltering and wet. The cicadas scream around you and the sky expands before you, the road to your grandmother’s house rising up to meet it, like it could lead you to freedom—to the bright, bright blue of a sunlit world you will never see again.

“I love you,” Izuku whispers. In the low light of the room, his eyes glimmer—wide, flickering over your face, waiting.

Your heart twists. In another life, you might’ve laughed and tried to squirm away from him, tell him it was impolite to talk with his mouth full—instead you swallow, nod, watching as he sucks on his bottom lip, the glossy smear of you on his face shinning.

“I love you too,” you whisper. He breathes against your belly; hot and deeply against the give of it—grateful, his eyes closed like he’s savouring the words, like he believes them.

“I love you so much,” he says, lips trailing over your skin and your stomach twists, under them. He follows the curve of your body to the wet heat of you, pressing his kisses deeper when you gasp, unwillingly.

His hand curls in yours; pinning it down. You try to focus on that, on his grip, pressing down into the flesh of your palm to the bird-like bones underneath. The threat of that is better, more honest than the sloppy glide of his tongue—the press of his face against you, where he murmurs his I love yous, his you’re safes, his you’re okays.

In any other lifetime you could have done this: rolled with him, breathed in the saltiness of his skin, kissed him willingly—loved him, fiercely.

Instead you only have this lifetime. The one where you let him touch you as you tremble, let him spread you apart and devour you, his hot breath at your neck as you lay there and hope he’ll do you the favour of snapping your neck one day.

You’re alone, a lot of the time. Gulping in sleep like a cursed princess, ensnared in a tangle of briar thorns. Curling into yourself as you nest in the blankets and pillows Izuku surrounds you with, the warm glow of the little porcelain lamp he brought you—a flimsy fairy-ring of protection from the cold, empty space beyond it.

Izuku has tried, you think, in empty acknowledgement.

It’s a room of concrete. You think it might’ve been a bunker once, or a basement—somewhere deep underground, the concrete unable to hold back the mildewing rot of pooling water, dirt. Izuku’s tried to make it homey, in a clumsy, earnest way: trial and error in the early days, when you would rip out your own nails clawing at the walls. He’d bring you a rug, one day—thick and soft in bright colours the dankness of this place eventually sapped. New blankets, constantly. New pillowcases—frilled and soft, a picturesque girlishness you don’t feel. He brings you soft sweaters that feel like duckling down and flimsy little nightgowns and his own shirts, warm, still smelling of him. One day he even brings you paper stars.

“Kacchan and I visited a nursery class!” He tells you, excited and soft-eyed, like he’s come home to find you on the couch, waiting for him—instead of sequestered away in the dark, hoping you’ll die. “They’d been working on these all week—I thought you would love them.”

Your heart was a lump of rotting flesh in your mouth as you had watched him tac them up on the wall—stars of clumsily coloured purple and orange and green and yellow and gold glitter. A mockery of the real sky—a mockery of your excitement when you were still in the real world, pinning up the most earnest of the fan-letters that Dynamight’s offices received, pinning up scowling paper-cutouts of him. Crayon portraits where he’s flying through a field of orange stars. Painstakingly written notes on school paper, saying he was their hero. Every time Izuku had come into the agency, there had been something new—Izuku impressed, his eyes warm when you would laugh at him, pointing it out.

And now—

Now you turn your head from the wall, looking at the glow of the lamp instead as he moves over you, his breath hot and moist in your ear as his fingers dig into your hips, the strength of his Quirk threatening to snap you in half as he takes what he wants.

“I love you,” he whispers against your hair, afterwards. He likes you puddled in his arms—skin-to-skin, the both of you flushed and damp and breathing hard, cradled in a bed that will smell of sex; the overripe stink of salt and skin and the rot you emit, now—of blown-out, browning roses, left to languish in the dark.

Izuku breathes in deep, relaxing in it. “You smell so good,” he says, softly, and you wish and wish and wish that it could follow him out of here and into the daylight where it could out him to everyone he knows—the powdery, sickly decay of this trap.

You stay awake in his arms, even when he sleeps. Palming over the scars on his arm, his body. Wanting to claw them open and crawl into him, tear him apart. He’d probably be able to pull himself together, afterwards—the golden gift of his Quirk, his life, pulling him into a constant cycle of rebirth no matter his failings. But at least then you’d be carried out of here—at least then he would have to take you with him out into the fresh air, the sunshine. You would take feeling the sun again—the open sky—even if it was secondhand.

Sometimes when he comes to you he still smells like the open air—like the waiting world and you will snuffle into his neck, against his shoulders, hungry for it, tears absorbing into his uniform.

He will croon to you, then, a big hand on the back of your head—holding you close, peppering you with kisses, whispering, “I love you, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here, it’s okay, you’re safe.”

(He likes you like this—sad, clingy. His eyes will reflect your tears and he will kiss your face, kiss your mouth, kiss down your neck and your breasts even as you gulp back sobs.)

And then one day he doesn’t come back.

“Kacchan’s suspicious,” he tells you, hushed, his brows knitting together. “He hasn’t let the investigation close—he’s been turning everything upside down. He won’t understand.”

You try not to let your hope show, the kindling of it glowing in your chest as he kisses you goodbye, promises you you’ll be safe. You let him go and try not to think of Kacchan, out there somewhere, refusing to believe you had just quit and walked out, walked away from the wall of letters and drawings. Hope tasted a lot like fear, these days—stale in your mouth and you do what you can, you sleep the day away, the curled up princess in her nest.

Izuku has odd hours; you’re used to waking up to his hands on you, gently bringing you back tot he world of the living. But you wake up on your own, drink some water, sleep again—wake up again. The cycle continues and you realise, after awhile, that it’s been too long. Where is he?

Where is he?

You wait, and you wait, and you wait. Locked into the fairy-ring glow—afraid of the dark beyond it. Your bed becomes a casket. I love you, Izuku had said, soft-eyed and gentle—but his love was bloody, came with chains, had buried you alive. You curl into yourself and cry. You stay like that and sleep—sometimes you dream of being fourteen again, the day before you. Sometimes you dream of Izuku, his hand on your face as he whispers you’re safe, that you’re okay, that he loves you. You’re going to die in this place—with nothing to witness it, to witness you, but your dreams.

Your tears are hot against your face and you close your eyes.

(When you open them again, you’re in a room with wide, open windows—the curtains moving with the breeze. It’s daylight; a bird is singing, somewhere outside. You shift, stretching out in cool bedlinens that smell of sunshine and detergent and there’s a warm chuckle behind you, a strong arm tightening around your waist as someone presses their face into the curve of your neck and murmurs, “You okay?”

You feel sick with the lightness inside you, like you’ve swallowed the sun. “We’re okay,” you whisper, and the tears on your face are cool)

#‼️📍 content warnings at the beginning of the post 📍‼️#tw: yandere #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: horror #mermaids drag people underwater: dark content #prompts and drabbles and other things #literally do NOT look at me

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