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9r7g5h · 5 months

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Should Have Been Obvious

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Boku no Hero Academia

Rating: T

Genre: Humor

Summary: "How the actual fuck did I raise such a stupid brat?"

It should have been obvious.

Words: 2,433

"How the actual fuck did I raise such a stupid brat?"

Even as the side of Katsuki's lip curled, he couldn't necessarily argue with his mother. He wanted to, he really, really did, but in this one case he had to concede that she was maybe, just slightly, kind of right. Partly because she hadn't been the first to say it - their friends, their former teachers, the others at their agency; hell, even Recovery Girl had broken her retirement and self imposed month long temporary isolation in Florida to give him a call and chew him out when she had heard the news. The doctors so far had been nicer about the whole thing, if with an air of judgment about them, reassuring him that, while rare, it could, in fact, happen. There'd been studies, tv shows, social experiments - they weren't the only ones this had happened to, though perhaps they were one of the most famous. That had only made him feel slightly better, because really, the other reason he didn't snap back at his mother was that, thinking about it, all of the signs had, if fact, been there.

It should have been obvious.

But, really, Izuku being sick at 3 am almost every single day for two months had been easy to write off. The damn nerd was constantly getting cheap crap from convenience stores for snacks on his way home from patrols, no matter how much Katsuki tried to protest. So they had both just laughed (or, rather, Katsuki had laughed, Izuku had bemoaned) it off as his stomach finally taking its revenge now that he was in his mid-20s.

The back and chest pain? Well, they were both heroes - things were constantly getting tweaked and twisted and hit, and even when they had desk duty, Izuku never sat properly. He was always hunched over his laptop, muttering under his breath instead of keeping track of his HDMI cables so he could use the nice, comfortable chairs and large monitors the agency had gotten them.

Being tired? The nerd never slept. End of story, he was always tired, and so was Katsuki, depending on whether or not Izuku had kept him awake as well. Sometimes a happy tired, if he'd gotten his dick wet at least, but more often then not a frustrated tired, his lovely, wonderful husband and mate keeping him awake half the night because they just had to talk about the new quirk theory he'd come up with. A talk that couldn't wait until their, you know, shared patrol the next day, or shared lunch hour, or dinner, where they lived together.

Crying easily? Izuku had already been flooding the city on a daily basis because a child knew his name, and if someone insulted one of their friends (especially him), they had exactly three seconds to find somewhere to hide and pray before he tried to rip them a new asshole for shits and giggles. Moodswings had always been part of Izuku, and nothing new to their lives.

Neither of them had thought much about Izuku's missed heat; he'd always been irregular, ever since he'd gotten One for All, going from the standard one every three months to sometimes six months in between a heat, or sometimes only two. Their mating and medications had helped, for the most part, but a missed one was nothing to worry about. For sure nothing to call home or run to a doctor about, but instead just a scheduled off long weekend to take advantage of.

Though, perhaps his reluctance to take apart the elaborate nest he'd established in the living room should have sent up some flags. Katsuki was glad for the small bite scar on his hand now, and the fact that the nest was still there, left alone after Izuku had made it very clear it was staying. They'd need it, even if it was ugly as fuck and in the worst place possible. It smelled like them, sure, but he still hated the fact that they owned an Icy Hot blanket, and for some reason Izuku had put that bastard's merch right where it was most visible wherever you went in the apartment.

Sure, the weird food had been weird, but none of it had been too too strange. Katsuki had gagged the first time he'd seen Izuku eat pork rinds and m&ms ("It's just like chocolate covered bacon, Kacchan!"), and more than once Katsuki had wondered why and how he'd let himself get bullied out of his own house to try and find melon pudding in the middle of the night, but again, not too weird. Or, rather, neither of them had really just thought about it.

Damn it, Denki was rubbing off on him too much. He really was a dumbass.

To be fair, in their defense, there had been some pretty obvious things that hadn't been there as well. Izuku's scent had barely changed, the slightest extra sweetness of milk barely there under the lighting and mint. He'd barely put on any extra weight, his increased appetite quickly burned off by the amount of exercise they did each day. They were both already horny fucks, so any increase in that area hadn’t been that noticeable.

It hadn't been until earlier that day that they'd begun to suspect something was maybe, just maybe, wrong. Izuku had woken up complaining of a weird pressure in his lower stomach, strange cramps that he couldn't just walk off. Katsuki had suggested he take the day off, go to the doctor, but Izuku had been insistent on doing his shift first. They had a short, early day, so they could always swing by whichever hospital was closest to them when they clocked out.

"I'm fine, Kacchan," Izuku had said, his smile tight even as he rubbed at his lower back, hissing as another cramp hit him. "It's probably just some stomach thing from all the weird things I've been eating."

He'd wanted to push, but deciding it was better to not argue and just keep a close eye on him, Katsuki had just nodded and gotten ready for the day.

He should have pushed. Throughout the day it was clear how much the cramps had been bothering Izuku, citizens giving him strange, almost panicked looks each time he stopped and pressed his hand to his stomach or his back, biting back whatever noise of pain threatened to break free. Some had even given Katsuki angry, disapproving looks, though when he had just shrugged and rubbed Izuku's back until he insisted he was fine enough for them to continue, that seemed enough for people to drop it. At least until the alerts went off for the robbery.

He wasn't even sure now what the name of the place was, whether it was a bank or some kind of store, just that one of the villains had some kind of x-ray quirk to let them figure out where the best goods to take were, while the other could pull apart the metal and bricks to fill their bags. He and Deku had been the first on the scene, making enough of an entrance that, without turning off the weird eye thing the woman had been doing, both villains had turned towards them, more than ready to fight.

Only for Creepy Eyes to take one look at Izuku and throw her hands up, hitting her partner on the way so she would do the same.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? You need to be in a hospital, not running around being a hero for one fucking day. We’re thieves, we’re not getting involved in this shit and possibly hurting one of you.” Her voice had been panicked, each blink causing her eyes to flicker between black and green as she lowered herself to the ground. “And you,” the snarl had taken Katsuki off guard, he’d admit - plenty of villains had growled at him before, but never with this kind of tone - “what kind of alpha are you? I know he’s the number one hero and all the shit, but really? You really care that little about him that you didn’t take him to the hospital already? Fucking shitty mate is what you are.”

Katsuki had bristled at the accusation, words he technically understood but that all together meant shit. Not that he had had time to do anything: his face dark, Izuku had taken a few steps forward, power crackling through his limbs, mouth open to speak-

Only to freeze as another one of those cramps rippled through him, this time accompanied by wetness that had stained the back of his pants, soaking through and dripping down his legs onto the dusty floor.

The next few hours had been blurry, Katsuki had to admit. Bird Brain flying in on his wave of darkness to take over for them while they waited for the ambulance; the ride as the EMTs helped Izuku out of his hero costume, asking him questions Katsuki fired off the answers to, because he knew Izuku more than well enough to respond even as his husband gritted his teeth against the strange pain, scent sharp and stressed and scared; the hospital trying to pull him to the side so he could fill out forms (he might or might not have tried to bite someone) until someone with brains had told them to do it later, this was happening now.

The room, the doctors, too many voices and not enough answers as he tried to keep Izuku calm. Calm and breathing and following the few instructions one of the smiling nurses had come by his head to give him (smiling, so that had to mean he wasn’t dying, something Katsuki had latched onto), ignoring his own pained hand as Izuku squeezed it between the waves. Waves that part of Katsuki had realized were more than some stomach bug, but he’d been proven an idiot, a complete dumbass, because it hadn’t been until the end, when Izuku had been screaming and crying and accidentally kicked someone in the face that it had gone quiet, that it had ended and whatever had been going on was over, that a small, whimpering newborn had been placed on Izuku’s chest that he’d actually realized what it all meant.

“Fucking hell,” he’d breathed, eyes wide and slightly faint as he’d watched Izuku carefully push back the dark hair on their head. Watched as, exhausted and out of it, Izuku had nuzzled the infant before trying to find a nurse, frowning as his tired gaze had fallen on Katsuki himself.

“They gave me a baby, Kacchan,” Izuku had slurred, eyes drooping, barely awake. “We’re heroes - we need to find her parents.”

“Give her here, nerd,” Katsuki had said, though it had taken a long few moments and some gentle swipes of his wrists over Izuku’s to get him to actually let go of her. “Go to sleep; I got her.”

And that was still how he was now, two hours after his daughter’s birth. He’d called his mom, given her the bare jist of it - she’d grabbed Inko on her way over, his dad out of the country for some business meeting, his green-haired mother-in-law quietly fawning over her still sleeping son. The doctor had given him something, after hearing the whole story, to help with healing and keep him calm when he woke up, though he’d sleep for a bit longer. Mitsuki sat next to him, looking between her phone and granddaughter, eyes bright even as she berated him and fielded calls. Stupid villain had leaked everything to the media the first chance she’d gotten, and Katsuki was glad he had someone to deal with the fallout of their stupidity for them.

He sure as fuck couldn’t. Besides calling the old hag, he’d barely been able to take his eyes off of her. She was so small, could fit in his arms so easily, his daughter. Perfectly healthy, if a bit small and a little bit early, nothing to be concerned about, according to the doctor that had almost had to pry her from his hands to give her her first checkover. A miracle, in Katsuki’s mind, considering there’d been nothing that he knew they should have been doing; none of the vitamins, none of the classes, none of the special exercises or appointments or anything that those shitty lifetime movies always made such a big deal out of.

They were dumbasses, as his mother so loved to remind him every few minutes as she replied to calls and texts and coordinated with PR, but even so they’d made the best kid.

“Kacchan?”

Immediately he was at Izuku’s side; he knew he was purring, brushing his cheek over and over against Izuku’s as he held their baby in his arms, scenting him excessively as Izuku just looked at him in tired confusion, but Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to stop. He’d had two whole extra hours to process this shit, and fuck, sure, brats had always been a “When we get to them” kind of thing, but she was here and perfect and he was happy.

“So it wasn’t a dream.” His voice tired and awed, Izuku just reached out for the baby, their baby, and brushed his wrist over her, scenting her, smiling as she squirmed at the sensation. “Kacchan, we have a baby. We didn’t even know I was pregnant and now we have a daughter.” He was tearing up, taking the offered tissues from Inko as Katsuki just sat there and let him process, nuzzling him while holding their child tight between them. “What are we going to tell everyone?”

“Don’t worry about that, ‘Zuku,” Katsuki quickly said, shooting Mitsuki a look they both understood. He didn’t need to know about the media circus show, about how Momo had created a key to their apartment and their friends were already swarming their home with baby shit, that the world was talking and speculating and wondering about how they’d gotten into this predicament in the first place (since a hero almost giving birth on the field was a new one). “Right now you need to rest, and we need to figure out what we’re calling this cute little brat.”

“Don’t call your kid a brat, you stupid brat. How I raised such a dumbass, I’ll never know.”

Katsuki wanted to argue, but really, she was right. He was a dumbass - a lucky as fuck, happy dumbass, and at least now he knew what to look for next time.

[END]

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9r7g5h · 5 months

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The Only Acceptable Miscommunication Trope

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Boku no Hero Academia

Rating: T

Genre: Humor

Summary: When Katsuki opened his locker, he had expected three things - his water bottle, his towel, and the change of clothes he had brought so he wouldn’t have to wear the soaked gym outfit back to the dorms.

He hadn’t expected the bright pink letter, signed and sealed with a heart shaped sticker.

Words: 2,766

When Katsuki opened his locker, he had expected three things - his water bottle, his towel, and the change of clothes he had brought so he wouldn’t have to wear the soaked gym outfit back to the dorms. That was what he had put in the locker when Shitty Hair and Dunce Face had dragged him out this morning to train, so it made a passing bit of sense for him to expect the same.

He hadn’t expected the bright pink letter, signed and sealed with a heart shaped sticker, his name written in, admittedly, beautiful calligraphy on the front. He hadn’t even noticed it at first, the letter flopping to the ground as he pulled the towel free, too caught up in his argument to pay attention. It wasn’t like he did this kind of shit anyway, so if he had been the one to notice it first, most likely it would have still ended up on the ground, just this time in the form of ashes instead of whole.

Sadly, it was Kaminari who made the discovery first, his shit eating grin more than enough to justify the dodged blast Katsuki sent his way.

“Whoa, is that a love letter? Someone’s actually got the guts to try and confess to our Blasty here?” He swooped in, a well placed jolt enough to make Katsuki jump so he could swipe it from the ground. He held it high enough so Kirishima could see, wiping away a fake tear. “I’m so proud, our boy might finally get laid.”

“Like you can talk, dipshit.” It didn’t take much to get the letter back, Kirishima just laughing as he watched Kaminari wipe the soot from his face. “We all know you’re as close to getting your dick wet as the grape is; at least I’m not as pathetic as you two are.” A sheepish grin his only response, Katsuki just rolled his eyes and crumpled the letter in his hand, sparks playing across his free palm. The quicker he burned this, the quicker he could get back to cleaning up and get back to the dorm, leaving this nonsense behind.

“Whoa, Bakubro, what the heck! You’re not even gonna read it? Not manly, dude.” Again, he found the letter in someone else’s grasp, this time his explosion ineffective as Kirishima just quirked up, his skin as hard as his frown as he held the letter safely behind his back. His growl ignored, Kirishima carefully flattened the letter, using his hardened fingers to try and smooth out as much of the damage as he could. “You should at least see who it’s from and give them an answer, bro. It’s only right.”

“If the extra knew me at all, they’d know this was coming. I don’t do this kind of shit.”

Because he was too busy training or studying and thus had literally no time for a relationship; because he would only date the best and there was no way in hell anyway so gutless they had to resort to some anonymous letter would ever measure up; because he had to spend his precious free time keeping that damn nerd alive and figuring out his quirk (and if that was just an excuse to stay close, to slightly soothe the ache in his chest that was his own damn fault, well, fuck off); take your pick. Katsuki Bakugou didn’t do this kind of shit, all for good reasons.

All the reasons Kirishima, as the only person in this damn school that had managed to wiggle his way in and force down his defenses that wasn't too bright and green to look at on a regular basis, knew and knew well. Entertaining that love letter would do no one any good, and if he was just helping some poor extra get over him and move on without having to deal with a dozen awkward confessions a week? Bonus points.

“You never know, Bakubro,” Kaminari joined, throwing an arm over Katsuki’s shoulders, “your current plan of never addressing anything and just exploding it doesn’t seem to be working. Maybe doing an actual meet-and-greet will let you tell them you’re not interested, and the word will spread. People can only stay interested in someone emotionally unavailable for so long before they get bored and move on. Well, most people.” He dodged the half-hearted swat, laughing easily. “Trying it once can’t hurt!”

And maybe occasionally, when the fates collided and his two brain cells rubbed together, Kaminari actually had a good idea, because he knew how the rumor mill worked. Mina was one of the core members, as much as he hated that shit, and if it got around that this crap wouldn’t work on him...

“Fine,” Katsuki spat. “Give me the damn letter. But don’t expect me to be polite to the extra face to face. The fact that I’m even looking at this is good enough.” The others didn’t argue, knowing if they did it would only distract the blonde from tearing apart the envelope. Together the three crowded together, skimming the crinkled letter to see who it was trying to catch Katsuki’s eye.

I would like to confess to you in person, like a hero should. Please meet me at the grove of trees near the eastern open training ground, the one closest to the gates, today at four. I’ll be waiting.

As one the trio looked towards the clock that hung over the locker room doors, glancing between themselves with the knowledge that, were Katsuki to do this, he only had fifteen minutes to wait. They all knew which grove the letter meant - it was a public, popular enough confession spot, the shade and perpetual cool breeze making it perfect for waiting for people. Almost always had some sort of eyes on it, waiting for someone to say something and start up the gossip.

Perfect.

Katsuki tossed his shit back into his locker, ignoring the surprised yelps from the peanut gallery as he turned on his heels towards the door. Kirishima hardened just in time to take another well aimed blast, the force just enough to push him out of the way of the door.

"Whoa, wait, you're going like that? You aren't even going to, you know, wipe down and change? Kiri and me went pretty hard on you, and-"

"As if, idiots," Katsuki snorted, like the idea his friends had actually been a challenge was amusing. Even if the soaked gym clothes told a different story. With Kirishima to hold him off and Kaminari to shoot long range attacks, they were a pretty effective team. "The letter was in my damn gym locker, while I was training, with no guarantee that I would see it before the meeting time passed. This extra wants to do this, they're getting me like this. Maybe they'll actually think next time."

With twin shrugs the other two just followed, the three quickly making their way through the school. Thankfully there weren't many people to push their way through, the school day long since done, allowing them to make it well within the time allotted. Though as they reached the front door, instead of continuing on his path like he had intended, Katsuki instead glanced out the large window and froze, grabbing his two idiots to keep them from going on without him.

It only took a moment for them to follow his line of sight.

"Is that-"

"Dude, no way-"

"Both of you, shut up!"

Because of course. Of course it was fucking Deku, standing calmly beneath the trees as he played with his phone.

And the little shit nerd actually looked good for once. It was a well known fact that Izuku was, physically, probably one of the prettiest people on campus, and Katsuki would fight anyone who said otherwise. But his clothes left a lot to be desired; they were childish at best, tacky as shit at worst. But right now he looked good, actually looked like the proper almost adults they were, and it did things to Katsuki's heart and stomach and made him immediately regret coming as he was, his ratty gym clothes drying to his skin and the glycerin in his sweat that normally made him smell slightly sweet unable to cover the stink of exercised teenage boy.

"Is that..." Kaminari squinted his eyes for a moment, only to whistle as he turned back towards Katsuki. "He's even got some makeup and everything. Looks better then my get up too. He really wanted to look good for you, bro."

"Course he did," Katsuki snapped back, no heat in his reply. "Nerd never does anything in halves. Fuck, Kiri, I..."

Already his best friend was there, a steadying hand on his shoulder. It had taken Kiri forever to squirm his way in through Katsuki's defenses, but he'd long since earned the right to a good deal of Katsuki's secrets. Most of them concerning feelings and emotions and the shit he was bad at, and the rest concerning the boy standing under the trees outside. "You don't have to," Kirishima said slowly, "but this is your chance, Bakugou. That letter was pretty clear, so even if you decide not to, you at least know where you both stand and can do something later. But it must have taken a lot of nerves for him to be manly enough to write it out and follow through, so it might be nice if you met him on his timeline for once instead of yours."

Katsuki took a long, deep breath and held it, nodding as he slowly released the air from his lungs. Shitty Hair was always right, damn it, and even if a part of him wanted to run and hide and pretend he had never seen that stupid note, he wasn't going to. No, he was going to ignore the fact that he was a gross, sweaty, stinking post-workout mess and go give Deku the best acceptance of a love letter to ever be seen in the history of romance.

Because he was Katsuki Bakugou, damn it, and he was the best.

Izuku couldn't wait for the others to get there. He knew he was early, but when Iida had informed him that he had made dinner reservations to celebrate their group's two year "friend-iversary," he had been touched. Kacchan had been the only person he could have theoretically had something like a friend-iversary with, but the other boy was too disgusted with anything sappy and sentiment to think that was a good idea. Even though they had repaired their friendship from their falling out in middle school, he knew bringing up something like that would more than likely get him an explosion to the face, not a fancy dinner at some restaurant people were raving about.

So he hadn't even been insulted when Tsu, Ochako, and Todoroki had invaded his dorm, gone through his closet, and picked out his clothes, supplementing whatever he didn't have with things Todoroki brought with him that, with enough tucking and adjusting, just managed to fit. He'd even let Mina doll him up some, even if the goop on his face felt weird and his eyes felt tired, like he was ready for a nap. For sure not something he would do all the time, it was all too uncomfortable, but for a night out with his friends to celebrate something so special, he was willing to do it. Now he was just waiting, a couple minutes early, playing on his phone until his friends got there.

"Oi, Deku!"

For a moment Izuku was startled - had Kacchan been invited as well and no one had told him? Looking him over, though, it was clear the other boy was nowhere near restaurant ready; he probably needed something else. Sliding his phone into his pocket, Izuku smiled at his friend.

"Hey, Kacc-"

One hand on his hip, the other in his hair, fingers threading through curls to tug his face up towards Kacchan's, his back pressed hard against the tree he had been leaning against - Izuku had no clue what was going on, only that his greeting was cut off by Kacchan's lips meeting his own. He didn't know what to do with his mouth, his hands, his tongue, but it didn't seem to matter as Katsuki took and kept control of this surprise confession, pressing against the seam of his lips until Izuku allowed him entrance, awkwardly rubbing against each other in a perfect way that made them both groan.

And all too soon it was over, Kacchan pulling away, his gaze bleary as he licked some spit from his bottom lip. He slowly, almost reluctantly took his hands away, the one in his hair playing with a few curls first before losing complete contact, leaving the two of them just standing there, breathless, staring.

"Kacchan, wh-"

"If we're doing this, nerd, we're doing this right," Kacchan cut him off again, forcing some level of bravado into his voice, ignoring the still glazed look in his eyes. "Friday, I'll pick you up from your dorm at six. Don't be late or I'll blow up some of your merch." No real threat, the words almost teasing, as if the destruction of property was expected. All Izuku could do was nod, his lips brushing against the fingers he hadn't realized he had raised to touch his mouth.

"Yeah," he said, voice hoarse. Izuku swallowed, shook his head, and smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that, Kacchan. I'll see you at six."

His smile real, nothing like the cocky smirk he normally wore, Kacchan turned away and ran back towards the front doors of the school. Where, if Izuku was seeing properly, Kaminari and Kirishima were jumping around in front of the giant windows that flanked the doors, yelling at and hugging each other, at least until Kacchan rejoined them, his smile not changing as he yelled at them. Whatever he said didn't seem to phase them as the two jumped on him, laughing as he was buried under the group hug.

His face red, idly wondering if perhaps one of the former holders of One for All had a blushing quirk, Izuku pulled back out his phone to send a text to his friends. They would be here any minute now, and he could always tell them in person, but better to get it out now before someone in the gossip chain got it out first. Ochako would kill him if she heard second hand.

Why Kacchan decided to do it in such a public place, well known for being watched, he'd never know.

I think I have a boyfriend now?

*~*

Standing on the second floor of the building, first year support student Dairoji sobbed as his friends comforted him. They had all told him it was a bad idea, that the upperclassman Bakugou had never responded to a love confession before, but Dairoji had insisted it would be different.

"He called me 'D'," Dairoji had said happily, sealing the letter. "You only give nicknames to people you like! He'll respond to me, I just know it."

Of course, Dairoji had ignored the fact that the rest of them had been "Extras" A, B, and C, and the 'D' Dairoji had been so fixated on had just been a coincidence. It had taken everything they could to convince him to wait on the second floor, to make sure he actually showed up before waiting outside for who knows how long.

A good idea, they all agreed, as they comforted their sobbing friend.

"I never would have given him that letter if I knew he had a boyfriend," Dairoji sobbed. "I'm so embarrassed! What if he looks at me and thinks I'm a pervert who goes after taken men? I'll never get to work with heroes again, and I'll never get into an agency and my equipment will rust and I'll have to start making toys for kids and I don't even like kids and-"

"Remember when we told you Bakugou's never responded to a love confession," one of his friends cut in, trying to head off the spiral before it sunk any lower. "Rumor has it he just burns them, or throws them away. Now we know why. He probably never even saw it, and he'll never know it was you, ok?"

Blinking away the tears of a broken heart and embarrassment, Dairoji looked up at his group, hope slightly lifting his spirits.

"You really think so?"

"Of course, Dairoji. The letter is in ashes, I promise."