Rose !!

19 !!

[leleyro]

Hear me out :

Izuku Midoriya used to stutter a lot back in primary/middle school (it kinda stopped when he met all might, due to him being more confident or smth)

And even as an adult, the first time he tried to speak to you, he was stuttering HARD. Took him a minute to ask for your name (which you gave him, as well as your number)

[bombshellriot]

꒰ crybaby. ꒱

izuku midoriya cannot stand to see you cry </3

╰┈➤ izuku midoriya x reader (comfort)❤︎

a/n: i finished rewatching my hero academia for the umpteenth time, and seeing izuku cry while comforting ochaco in "the girl who loves to smile" gave me some inspiration </3

508 words.

it's true, izuku midoriya has always been a crybaby.

ever since he first started working with all might, one of the first things he told him was that they "had to fix his leaky eyes", even koda notices how prone he is to waterworks. it's just who he is.

he definitely inherited his sensitivity from his mother. they were both extremely empathetic, and felt everything so deeply. both a blessing and a curse. he wasn't raised in a kind of household where he was told to hold back his emotions or what he was feeling, so he never had a problem with his so-called "leaky eyes".

it proved to be a slight inconvenience when it came to you, though.

you had a simply terrible day. it seemed like everything that could go wrong did go wrong. by the end of the day, you were absolutely defeated. you wanted nothing more than to collapse in your partners arms, and so you did.

now you're here, standing in your living room while izuku had his arms wrapped around you and your face was buried in his chest. you cried about your day, letting everything off your chest as tears spilled from your eyes. izuku gently rubbed your back as you cried, actively listening with occasional "mhm"s and "oh, i'm sorry, baby…"s coming from his lips.

you had finally started to calm down when you sniffled and looked up, your eyes widening slightly. izuku had some tears threatening to spill from his waterline while a small smile was on his face. the tears were just barely noticeable, but of course you noticed them.

"'zuku?" you questioned, moving some of his bangs away from his face while you stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "'m sorry, did i upset you, honey?"

izuku quickly shook his head, returning a quick kiss to your forehead and rubbing your back still. "no, of course not. you didn't do anything wrong, i just…" he smiled weakly, blinking the tears away. "i just can't stand seeing you cry, it makes me cry too."

your lower lip quivered, and your eyes filled with tears again as you lay your head on his chest again. your heart absolutely swelled with affection for your partner. "oh—izuku! why do you have to be so sickeningly sweet?!" you cried out, gripping his shirt.

izuku let out a breathless laugh, resting his chin on the top of your head. "oh, stop it. i'm not that sweet." he took a step back from you, cradling one of your hands. "now, how about i make dinner for us and we watch your favorite show? that should help you feel better."

you nod, sniffling once more and wiping your face with your sleeve. you shuffled to a bar stool that sat behind a counter near the kitchen so you could watch izuku cook, listening to him ramble on about his day and his students to distract you from your own day.

god, you got so lucky with that man.

© bombshellriot — all rights reserved. do not plagiarise my work, post it on other platforms, or feed it into ai.

[sorenellebrair]

ᣞ ᜓ᛫ ⋆♱ THE FRATBOYS | a bakudeku series

cw: angst, bakudeku x femnerd!reader, colege au, shy innocent!reader, bakugo is actually nice for once, lmk if i mised anything <3

pt. 1 | 2 | 3

☾ “What do you mean she liked it and then unliked it?” Izuku questioned frantically, rubbing both hands down his face.

“Dude, it’s really not that big of a deal,” Kirishima chuckled, leaning back against the boat railing.

Izuku sat hunched on the bench, the sound of waves crashing nearby doing nothing to ease the anxious twist in his stomach. He really liked you. More than he’d liked anyone in a long time. The last thing he wanted was to scare you off before he even got the chance to talk to you properly.

“Nah, he’s losing it ‘cause she’s cute,” Bakugo smirked, arms crossed over his chest. The girls around them let out a collective “Ouuu~~” followed by giggles.

“Kacchan, this is serious. She’s not like—”

“Yeah, yeah, not like other girls. We get it,” Bakugo rolled his eyes dramatically. “I tried to follow her on my spam and she blocked me. Boo-fucking-hoo.”

Izuku let out a defeated groan, tilting his head back against the bench and staring up at the sky. The late afternoon sun felt too bright.

He felt two soft hands slide over his chest from behind.

“It’s okay, Deku…” Ochako’s voice purred sweetly in his ear, her body pressing against the back of the bench. “I’m sure there’s someone else who can fill that little gap for you.”

Izuku’s expression hardened instantly. He sat up straight, grabbing her wrists and pulling her hands off him with a firm but controlled motion.

“If I wanted you,” he said, voice low and clipped, “you wouldn’t be my ex. Get off me.”

The air around them went noticeably colder. Ochako’s smile faltered, a flash of hurt and embarrassment crossing her face before she forced a laugh and stepped back.

“Wow. Touchy,” she muttered, trying to play it off as she walked away with her friends.

Bakugo let out a low whistle, clearly amused. “Damn. Cold as hell, Deku.”

Izuku didn’t respond. He just leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the wooden deck of the yacht. The usual party noise — music, laughter, splashing water — suddenly felt distant. All he could think about was how you’d practically run away from him in the library twice now. How you’d blocked Bakugo’s spam the second he tried to follow you.

He didn’t want to be just another loud frat guy in your eyes.

“…I don’t wanna mess this up,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

Bakugo glanced at him, smirk fading just a little. He knew that tone. It wasn’t the usual Deku crush voice. This one was heavier.

“Tch. Then stop acting like a damn loser and do something about it when we get back,” Bakugo said, voice gruff but not entirely unkind. “If she’s really that different, then quit letting these extras get in your head.”

Izuku stayed quiet, watching the ocean shimmer under the setting sun. For the first time in a while, the usual party scene felt… empty.

He kept thinking about you, sitting alone in the library with your books, that shy way you’d looked at him before bolting.

He wanted to see you again.

And this time, he wasn’t going to let you run.

── ⋆

The next morning the sky was a dull, washed-out gray, the kind that made everything feel slower. You kept your hood up the whole walk to the library, earbuds in, trying to ignore the way your stomach still twisted every time you thought about the video.

You hadn’t meant to watch it more than once. But the loop kept playing in your head anyway—Izuku’s head tipped back, beer running down his chest while the girls laughed and touched him like it was the most natural thing in the world. His hands resting on their waists. That easy, bright smile. It shouldn’t have mattered. He was just another frat boy. But the image still sat heavy behind your ribs, and you hated how it made your chest feel tight.

The library was quiet when you slipped inside, the soft sound of rain tapping against the tall windows the only noise on the third floor. You found your usual corner table, spread your notes out like a shield, and tried to disappear into the pages of your book.

You were halfway through a paragraph when the chair across from you scraped back.

Your head snapped up.

Bakugo Katsuki dropped into the seat without asking, arms folded on the table, crimson eyes fixed on you like he was sizing you up.

“Four-eyes.”

Your fingers tightened around your pen. “I—I’m sorry about the block. I didn’t mean to—”

“Relax. Not here for that.” His voice was low, rough, but not as sharp as usual. “Deku’s been moping since last night. Won’t shut up about you. Figured I’d come see what the hell’s so special.”

You blinked, cheeks warming. “There’s nothing special. I just… I don’t really talk to people like you.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow. “People like me.”

“Frat guys,” you mumbled, eyes dropping to your book. “Parties. Yachts. All of that. It’s not really my thing.”

He was quiet for a second, and when you glanced up he was still watching you—less annoyed now, more curious.

“Deku’s not like the rest of ‘em,” he said eventually. “But he’s been staring at you for weeks. Thought you should know.”

Your stomach flipped, but you shook your head a little. “I don’t… I’m not looking for anything like that. I just want to be left alone.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue, but it wasn’t as harsh as usual. “Tch. Then tell him yourself. He’s not gonna stop unless you do.”

He pushed the chair back, standing up, but paused before turning away.

“…Name’s Katsuki. Use it.”

And then he was gone, boots echoing down the aisle, leaving the rain and the quiet and the uneasy flutter in your chest behind.

You packed up slowly, the weight of Bakugo’s words still sitting uncomfortably in your chest. You weren’t looking for anything. You weren’t interested in frat parties or yachts or whatever complicated mess Izuku Midoriya seemed to be tangled in. All you wanted was to eat lunch in peace and pretend this morning never happened.

The hallway outside the library was mostly empty, the overcast sky still leaking a thin, steady drizzle. You kept your hood up, tote bag hugged to your chest, moving quickly toward the side exit that led to the quieter path behind the dining hall.

You didn’t make it far.

“Hey, you.”

The voice was sharp, sugary-sweet, and way too close. You turned to find one of the girls from the yacht video—her, the one who’d been pressed up against Izuku’s side, laughing while she poured beer down his chest. Up close she looked even prettier, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Got a second?” she asked, already stepping in front of you so you couldn’t keep walking.

Your fingers tightened on the strap of your bag. “I—I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“Listen, I don’t know what little fantasy you’ve got going on in your head, but you need to back off.” Her voice stayed light, almost friendly, but the words landed like ice. “Deku and Bakugo? They’re not for girls like you. They have… options. Real ones. So do everyone a favor and stay in your lane, yeah?”

Your throat went tight. You couldn’t even look at her properly, your eyes kept flicking to the wet pavement, to the raindrops sliding off the edge of your hood, anywhere but her face.

“I’m not—I don’t want anything,” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.

She laughed, short and sharp. “Then act like it. Stop letting Deku chase you around like some sad little puppy. It’s embarrassing.”

Before you could find anything else to say, she brushed past you, shoulder knocking yours just hard enough to make you stumble. By the time you looked up again she was already walking away, heels clicking against the wet sidewalk like nothing had happened.

You didn’t go to lunch.

You went straight back to your dorm, locked the door, and crawled into bed with your clothes still on. The rain tapped against the window while you stared at the ceiling, chest tight, eyes burning. You didn’t cry, you just felt small. Smaller than you had in a long time. The careful bubble you’d built around yourself was cracking, and you didn’t know how to fix it.

Hours passed. You skipped your afternoon class. Skipped dinner. The sun had already started to set when your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

You reached for it without thinking.

@.izukumidoriya has requested to follow you.

Your stomach dropped.

You stared at the notification until the screen dimmed, then went dark, the quiet hum of rain the only sound left in the room. You sighed, you couldnt bring yourself to ignore it, so you opened your phone and accepted the follow request.

It wasnt long before your phone vibrated again. You open your phone again to see a text message.

izuku: hey

You hesitate before typing.

you: hi

izuku: are you okay? didnt see you

you: i decided to go home early today.

izuku: was it the rain?

you: partially

you: your fan girls dont seem to like me.

read @ 6:14pm

Around 20 minutes passed by and you were still left on read, you sighed, you knew you shouldnt have said anything, not like he was going to care anyway.

He was a fratboy.

They’re all the same.

© sorenellebrair

[izukusoulmate]

I love izuku so much it’s insane

[pr3ttypunisherr]

condescending praise......condescending praise.....condescending praise......

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[ceruleanheaven]

nikki begging bear to kill her and all he does is ask whats so bad about being with him. one of the most nauseating scenes ive ever witnessed

[smolivin]

two

| au masterlist | Ao3 link | prev part | next part |

dk x bk x reader zombie apocalypse au (based on the walking dead universe) ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ your new companions have some questions ⋆｡˚✴︎⋆ 1.4k wc

٠࣪⭑ cw: zombie apocalypse au, blood, gore, genre-typical violence, zombies are called 'walkers', i don't think this part has many warnings! lmk if i forgot any though!

٠࣪⭑ a/n: a bit of a filler part. next one will be juicer!

The city turned out to be overrun. When you're a mile or so out, Deku all but refuses you when you asked to be dropped off. "That's the same thing as handing you over to the walkers on a silver platter," he says, shaking his head, "it's suicide."

Even Bakugo looks hesitant. "This place is a death trap," he says simply, still sitting in the driver's seat of the black sedan. When you'd gotten close to the tunnel leading in to the heart of the urban center, it was obvious no one was getting in or out. The tunnel is clogged with walkers, which sound in a deafening cacophany of groaning and wailing, raspy growls and shuffling footsteps just adding to the eery din.

"No way you're survivin'. But your choice." He levels his gaze at you in a way that makes you feel small, smaller than you've almost ever felt. He has this depth to his ruby eyes that scares you. It's like he's keeping a storm of tumultuous emotions just beneath the surface, barely held back. Finally though, he glances at Deku, before he adds, "You could tag along with us. If you prove yourself first."

"What, like an initiation? Yeah, I'll pa—"

"There's no inititation," Deku interrupts, "but… well, I guess we should ask her the questions, right?"

"Questions?"

"Someone we met—" Deku begins, but Bakugo interrupts by clearing his throat. "Right, right, sorry. Okay, how many walker have you killed?"

"Is this one of the questions?" Neither of them answer you. "Wait, hold on. You don't even know if I want to join you. What if I have somewhere I'm trying to go?"

Deku gives you a sympathetic look, and Bakugo snorts, "Yeah, based on the position we found you in? I'm guessing we're your best option."

Your cheeks burn. Nothing really to refute that, but you don't like how he's acting like the second you got on your own you'd be dead meat.

"I've held my own for weeks," you argue. "I'm not helpless out there."

"That's good," Deku cuts in. "That's great, it means you're strong. But, well, we could use another set of hands and another person to keep watch, and… Kacchan's right. You're all alone."

You're not even sure why you're arguing right now. Something about Bakugo makes you want to disagree with him. But they're right. This is the best offer you've got, and travelling with two clearly armed and capable fighters is better than going it alone again. You shudder, thinking of taking back to the streets with nothing but your knife and the items in your pack: a water canteen, a couple changes of clothes, some measly food rations, a couple of lighters, some water purification tablets, a bed roll, a small pot, a small thing of twine, a small photograph, and three bandages. You used to have more, but supplies go fast out here. The inadequate contents of your bag cement your decision.

"I don't know how many," you admit finally. "I lost track a long time ago." Deku nods, encouragingly.

"How many people have you killed?" Bakugo spits. You pause, consider lying, but decide the truth is better.

"Two," you admit. Your voice is thin and brittle, but you say the number clearly.

"Why?"

"One was early on. She was…" you swallow thickly, then look down. "A friend of mine. She was bit, didn't want to turn. Didn't want to die from the bite either. She asked me to."

Deku's voice is gentle when he asks, "and the other?"

"Someone bad," you offer, clenching your fists. "Who got a lot of people killed. I was—I wanted to save—well, it didn't matter anyway. But he was trying to hurt more people, so I stopped him."

Bakugo nods, seemingly accepting your answers.

Deku smiles. "I have a good feeling about you."

That's how you find yourself collaborating with the two men on the matter of your survival. You have questions for them, a lot of questions, but now isn't the time to ask. Bakugo is already backing away from the tunnel and turning around in a lightning fast maneuver, speeding down the road away from the massive hoarde behind you. He weaves around walkers on the road with surprising ease, making it look easy to avoid them at fifty miles an hour.

You don't slow until the city is far behind you and the gas tank starts to dip towards empty. He pulls over, tosses Deku the keys and heads for the trunk to refuel.

Deku turns in his seat to look at you. His expression is soft. You wonder how someone who seems so soft has survived out here this long, but then again, he is the one the saved your life.

"How did you end up by yourself?" he asks.

"I was with a group," you say. "Not for long, I fell in with them… maybe a couple months ago? I don't know." He nods, understanding that time is hard these days. "I'm shocked they survived as long as they did," you admit, looking out the window at a walker about a hundred yards down the road. You grip your knife and rest your other hand on the door handle. "We were holed up in a country store, about fifteen, maybe twenty miles from where you found me. I found them there, they were starving and weak. Apparently someone had heard about a settlement nearby that accepted strangers, so they wanted to find it. I don't know, I'd never heard anything about it."

"I've seen signs," Deku says, "for something similar. Maybe it's the same one? Kacchan and I were maybe going to look into it, but then we found you."

"Is the settlement north?" you ask, and he nods.

"Somewhat. We've heard some scary stories about settlements though. People being used as bait and killed, people lured in for their supplies and then left to the walkers for dead. We just want to check it out. It might be a dead end."

"Huh," you muse. "I've definitely heard some horror stories. I hadn't heard of this one, anyway."

"Sorry, go on, though," he urges.

"It wasn't going to last, this group. Their defenses were mediocre at best and the people had mostly been living in a bunker this whole time. They barely knew anything, survived down there by eating rats and stuff, and they only came to the surface when a few of them died and turned. A lot of them were crazy, but just enough knew how to hunt and kill walkers and stuff."

"So what happened?"

"They're all dead now," you say simply. "Someone opened one of the gates and was raving about how we all should join them—"

"Them?"

"The walkers. He killed ten people before I shot him down, but the damage was done. People were getting bit left and right. I grabbed my stuff and ran, never looked back."

Deku doesn't speak for a moment. Down the road, the walker stumbles closer and closer. "I'm sorry," he finally says. Nothing more, there's nothing else he can really say. You shrug.

Bakugo is almost done filling the tank. You think about getting up to kill the walker, but before you can open the door Bakugo slides back into his seat, hand held out for the keys, which Deku promptly drops into it. He revs the engine and shoots down the road.

"So where are we going?" you ask.

"We already told you," Bakugo argues.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from retorting angrily and say, "right… but where, exactly? It's almost dark, are we driving through the night?"

"Deku, get the map." The green haired man reaches in the glove box and pulls out a crinkled road map, then spreads it flat on his legs. He traces it with a scarred finger, finding your position and then circling around.

"We could try here," he suggests, pointing to an area of the woods with a service road down the middle. "Maybe camp a couple days, figure out what our supplies are looking like."

Bakugo finds your eyes in the rearview mirror. "We pool supplies, got any problem with that?"

"Split evenly?" you ask, and he nods shortly. "Yeah then, that's fine," You say, "although I haven't got much to offer right now."

"We're low too," Deku murmurs, setting the map down to rummage in a bag at his feet. "Definitely going to need to make a run."

"Not tonight," Bakugo says, and Deku nods.

"No, not tonight."

[parabins]

tumblr isn’t considered a social media because everyone on here is just talking to themselves

[parabins]

yeah i agree

[ahotknife]

i will never stop being 6 years old and lonely. i will never stop being 11 years old and lonely. i will never stop being 19 years old and lonely. i will never stop

[kosmogrl]

I love coming to my senses like you know what.. I should’ve been meaner

[smolivin]

one

| au masterlist | Ao3 link | prev part | next part |

dk x bk x reader zombie apocalypse au (based on the walking dead universe) ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ you make some new "friends" on the road ⋆｡˚✴︎⋆ 2.1k wc

٠࣪⭑ cw: zombie apocalypse au, blood, gore, genre-typical violence, zombies are called 'walkers', creepy men (they turn), weapons (guns, knives, baseball bat), erm lmk if i forgot any

It would have been better if they'd knocked you out, you think.

Your hands are bound tight, so tight that the rope is rubbing your wrists raw as you try to loosen the knot. It stays solid as ever, despite your wriggling. Maybe you shouldn't be tearing at your skin like this to escape, but you can hear the walker down the road getting closer and closer. The sun over head is violent, beating down on you relentlessly, and sweat trickles down the side of your face and the back of your neck, pools in your palms and under your arms. It's hard to think straight in this kind of heat, and you've been rationing water for the last few days so you're already closer to dehydration than not.

How is it that your choices are a) wait for your captors to return and take you somewhere that's sure to be even worse than this hell on earth you're currently living in or b) become one of the festering corpses that walk the roads day in and day out – only, you guess you wouldn't even walk anywhere if you turned, not bound like this.

The men are still inside the station. After they'd caught you, they'd dragged you outside and tied you to a fence post.

"Sit tight," the one with the scaly voice said, sneer stretched across his filthy face. "Don't go runnin' off now, the big boss'll love you."

You said nothing, just narrowed your eyes and set your jaw. The other one kicked your shoulder, hard, and grinned when you winced and grunted at the pain.

"Real pretty." He'd licked his lips and you'd felt sick to your stomach, the way he looked at you. And then they'd gone in to the station to scavenge supplies, circling around to find another entrance and see what was inside.

Now here you sit, listening to the growling and moaning grow closer and closer. The walker is probably... a hundred, hundred-and-fifty yards away? You don't think it's caught your scent yet, and the shuffling seems to be staying at a slow pace. Still, you feverishly pick at the rope binding your hands, fruitlessly hoping it will come undone. Your bag, carelessly thrown about ten feet from your bound feet, seems to be taunting you, beckoning you, so close and at the same time entirely inaccessible. If you could just get free–

But the knot stays strong.

You're wondering what the hell to do when you hear quick, quiet footsteps. You're not sure if you should be relieved or terrified. Head on a swivel, you try and make out where the steps are coming from... to your left, or–maybe your right–no, it's definitely closer to your left. Coming from the same direction as that same tiny farmhouse about a half a mile down. The one you'd passed on your way, the tiny old thing with a decrepit oak in the front yard, and a crumbling concrete walkway leading to a metal front door.

Should you call out? It could get you killed, but – there's a slim chance that maybe... maybe, the footsteps are someone who can help you. Heart hammering, you decide to speak. You haven't spoken aloud in weeks and your throat feels like sandpaper, so you try to swallow (it doesn't help).

"He–" your voice gives out on you. you take a deep breath and try again. "Hey." the footsteps slow. "Hello?" Then they stop. You whip your head around furiously, seeing nothing. "H-hey! Hey, is there... is someone there?"

The walker down the road is getting closer and closer. You hear it groan – maybe eighty, ninety yards away now.

"I–if anyone is there, please–i'm tied, i've been captured"–your head turns in the walker's direction as you hear its shuffling pace increase–“I just need this rope cut," you hiss.

Silence.

"I know someone is there," you implore. "These–inside, are they your people? No, no–please, i need out of my bindings. They tied me up and said they were gonna take me somewhere, I'm just–I won't, please, just help me get free, the walkers–"

So swiftly and silently you'd almost miss it, a sharp blade severs the rope around your wrists. Springing up, you lunge for your bag and fall onto your stomach on the concrete drive because of the rope still binding your legs. Your hand manages to wrap around the handle of your pack and you drag it closer, but before you can even unzip it the rope around your ankles is slashed, too.

Down the road the walker shuffles faster and faster, maybe fifty yards or closer at this point.

You scramble to your feet, looking around for your weapons and cursing when you see that they're gone, save for the spare carving knife you keep buried deep in your bag, wrapped in a shirt. Then you turn to finally get eyes on your rescuer.

The first guy stands closer to the fence. Probably in his twenties, if you had to guess. He's not too tall, but he's not what you'd call short, either. Taller than you, anyway. His unruly hair is a deep shade of green, almost black with soot and dirt; scars cover his hands and peek out of his collar with a long one vertically under his eye that looks pink in the sun; there's a wickedly sharp machete gripped in his palm and his other hand hovers near the gun at his waist; even in the baking heat, he wears long sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a dirty blue shirt with a faded print on the front that you can't make out, but it looks vaguely super hero related; a backpack is slung over one shoulder. The most striking thing about him is his eyes: they're emerald, almost the same shade as his hair, and piercing. He glances around uneasily.

The other guy hangs back, with a stance that says he's itching to move on. Also likely in his twenties, looks to be around the same age but he's taller, only slightly, with spiky blonde hair and a mean expression on his face. His lip is curled in disgust as he checks out the walker drawing steadily closer. He's dressed head to toe in black, with a baseball bat covered in nails in one of his hands and a rifle strapped to his back. There's scars on his arms too, and he even has one under the same eye as the other, only horizontal, stretching in the opposite direction. His other hand fidgets with a long bowie knife, and he shifts from foot to foot, grip tight on his bat. He adjusts the black baseball cap on his head with the handle of the knife and grunts.

"It's time to go."

The man with green hair looks back at him silently, and they seem to have some sort of argument with their eyes. Only, you don't care to watch and see who wins, shifting your attention towards scaling the fence you were tied to just moments before. You're near the top when you look around the station road and... it's bad. It's really bad. Walkers are slowly shifting towards the station, coming from both directions on the road – not a herd, but enough to make escape extremely difficult. And dangerous. The green haired man starts to say, "Are you–"

"Hey Deku"–the blonde spits with vitriolic urgency–"clock's ticking." He looks from the man with green hair (Deku?) to the closest walker closing in and back again.

You reach half-way down the other side of the fence and jump the rest of the way down, dropping into a crouch and unzipping your bag to see if you can reach your knife. There's no way you'll survive without something to use as a weapon. You grope around blindly, shoving your hand deeper your anxious search; your hand barely wraps around the makeshift t-shirt sheath when–

"Fuck," the blonde growls, hefting his bat in his hand. The walker is only ten yards away now, snarling and rushing forward at the prospect of fresh blood and tissue. The man steps forward and swings the bat down decisively in a punishing blow, and blood erupts from the walker's head. It stumbles to the ground, where the man drops quickly to his knees and stabs it through the eye socket with his knife. He shoots you a withering glance before shifting his attention to the one he called 'Deku' before. "Move, dumbass!"

Your hand curls around the handle of your spare–now only–knife and you pull it out before zipping your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Only now do you really have a solid grasp of your surroundings, and... well, you're surrounded. You have eyes on at least ten walkers, maybe fifteen, shuffling or crawling along with their signature wailing cries. 'Deku' looks back at the blonde and seems to decisively win their silent argument. Then he looks to you.

"Stay close to me," he says lowly, blade wielded in front of you both.

"Damn it!" the other man exclaims, striking out at another walker and taking this one down with one blow. The three of you carve a path and dart through the line of walkers directly in front of you. One reaches out to grab your arm and 'Deku' slices a wide arc with the machete, giving you the opportunity to take the corpse down with a swift stab to the face; your blade sinks into the flesh with a sickening crunch. You quickly move to shove it off and turn to keep moving forward. Once the path is clear of any dead, the blonde man breaks into a run, and 'Deku' looks back at you once, his message still clear, written all over his features: stay close to me.

"We need to get to the car!" he calls.

"The way back is full of 'em," the other man shouts back, cursing again when more walkers wander out from behind the fire station. Among them are two that look familiar, and with horror (and a twisted sense of satisfaction), you realize it's the same men who'd tied you up and threatened to take you back to some 'boss'. Looks like they hadn't been lucky inside after all.

'Deku' scans the scene with a discerning eye, face set in an expression of concern and concentration. He seems to be counting walkers, which now seem to be streaming from all directions, mumbling calculations under his breath before springing into action and cutting a zig-zag path through. He dashes fifty yards down the road to a car pulled over that you hadn't noticed before. You're quick to follow, running as fast as you can to the vehicle and yanking open the back door, practically diving into the seat. The blonde slips into the driver's side and takes the keys 'Deku' holds out, turning them in the ignition – to your immense relief, the engine purrs nice and smooth. He slams the gas, hurtling forward into a walker and sending it flying in the air, blood and viscera splattering the windshield. Then he turns on the wipers as you speed down the road, weaving around walkers at a breaking speed until you're free from the swarm.

The man in the passenger's seat twists around to face you.

"What's your name?" he asks. His voice is surprisingly melodic, now that you're slightly out of the fire and in less dire circumstances; it has this soft, lilting quality that makes you feel more at ease. Still, your guard is high, with your knife clutched in a vice-like grip.

You tell him and he nods, opening his mouth to speak, but the angry looking man in the driver's seat interrupts your introduction. "We can drop you somewhere once we get clear of this area."

'Deku' shoots him a look. "Kacchan–"

"No more strays!" 'Kacchan' barks accusingly, glaring at you through the rear view mirror. "Damn it, we said no more strays–"

"Where are you headed?" you cut in. 'Kacchan' wheels around like he means to chew you out and 'Deku' shoves at his shoulder lightly.

"Eyes on the road!" he looks back at you. "North. we're planning on skating around the city and following the road into the state over."

"Drop me there," you say, finally easing your grip on your knife a little. not enough to let go, just enough that your knuckles stop turning white.

The driver grunts. "Done–"

"–you don't wanna go there. It's been completely overrun, and we've heard the fighting in the city is brutal–"

"–Deku, stop trying to pick up strays!–"

"Drop me there," you repeat, more emphatically. "Or, I can figure a better landing spot once we're closer, at least." He nods. You pause, glancing at your knife before looking up at them. "Thank you," you say, "for freeing me back there, and for the walkers... thanks. I owe you one."

'Deku' smiles. "Don't mention it."

In the driver's seat, the blonde sighs. He mutters something about predictable and do this every fuckin' time, but you're not listening anymore, adrenaline starting to wear thin. A sense of deep exhaustion settles over your body and you fight to stifle a yawn. Last night's lack of sleep is catching up to you. 

You slide your pack off your shoulders and let out a deep breath you don't realize you've been holding on to until it's free. For the first time, in a long time, you just sit, chin in your palm, and gaze out the car window at the scenery whizzing by.

Not a walker in sight.

[smolivin]

coworkers izuku & reader going out with the rest of the staff for drinks on friday night only for him to get a little more confident (and tipsy) as the night goes on and he starts flirting🤭

⟡♡ liquid courage | i. midoriya ♡⟡

1.7k wc

٠࣪⭑ cw: fem!reader, alcohol consumption, mention of cigarettes

٠࣪⭑ author's note: YES yes yessss god yes yes god yes omg drunk izuku can have whatever the hell he wants from me i am so horrendously diabolically down bad for him

because you've already got.... an understanding with izuku. you always smile at each other extra wide when you pass in the hallways, always sit next to each other in morning meetings. he looks at you with these wide glossy eyes, like he's never seen anything more precious in his life.

but that's it. nothing more has ever happened between you.

it's a comfortable distance, not because you don't want to close it, but because you know it will close. you and izuku are orbiting one another, dancing around the obvious. there's no pressure, no timeline – you're just learning. observing one another and playing with the idea of what it might feel like to cross the invisible line that's been drawn in the sand.

it's after work on a friday, and you find yourself perched at a bar seat with a cold beer in front of you and izuku laughing across the table.

earlier, he'd popped in to your classroom during a free period to invite you to drinks, then waited for you at the end of the day, barking an awkward laugh when you thanked him for it. you'd walked together to the bar down the road, the other staff well ahead of you, and traded stories about students and lessons.

there was a nice comfortable distance maintained between your bodies as you allowed yourselves to really luxuriate in the stroll, walking extra slow to bask in the sun hanging low in the sky and smiling at each other until your cheeks hurt.

he held the door open for you when you arrived, looking away and mumbling about it being no problem when you thanked him with a hand on his arm; he tried to hide the flush creeping up his neck, but you still saw it peeking beneath the shifted collar of his suit.

it's still a little silly to you that he wears a full suit to work everyday when it technically isn't necessary, but you'd be a fool to complain about it. especially now, with his jacket hanging loose on the back of his chair and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up past his elbows. you're trying and failing to stop staring, but you just can't help it.

there's this slightly disheveled energy about him right now, and you're finding it rather addictive. tie a little loose, hair a little mussed, inhibitions a little low, you don't think you've ever seen him so... off-duty. you wonder how many more versions of him live under his skin, and what it would take to let them out.

this was supposed to be a work thing, but word had gotten out and looking around, one could find an unusually high number of pro-heroes patronizing this small, unassuming local pub.

you like seeing izuku around his friends. this isn't the first time they've ended up coming out to drinks like this, and it's become something you look forward to. it's kind of like a glimpse into another world.

he always relaxes, lets his shoulders slouch and release some of the tension they usually hold; it makes him seem younger, unburdened. and he's so quippy with them around, trading sharp tongued banter with bakugou and guilty looking laughter with a guilty looking kaminari.

he always seems to be looking at you, too, and tonight is no exception. every time he isn't practically glued to your hip, you can feel his eyes on you, feel the heat they bring to the surface of your skin.

you’re caught up in a (rather interesting) conversation with ochako.

"…she had a special focus on quirk development while she was getting her degree," you explain, referring to a coworker from school who was unable to make it out tonight.

ochako, a drink or two deeper than you are, slaps the table in delight. her pink cheeks are an even deeper shade than usual; she's unbearably cute like this. it's nice, sitting here with her – feels like a new friendship is blossoming. "that's amazing!" she exclaims. "really, amazing. and you really think she wants to help?"

you nod emphatically. "we were literally just talking about it the other day! she asked about your program, since i'd mentioned it to her before, and i told her you were looking for someone!"

she beams at you, patting your hand that rests atop the table. "you're the best for doing this! seriously the best." you can't help but wave off her praises, feeling heat rising to your cheeks.

"i didn't really do anything!" you insist, hiding your embarrassed smile behind your glass as you take a big gulp. only to choke on it when you feel a hand heavy against your shoulder.

izuku has somehow silently appeared beside the two of you, leaning down and in like you're all sharing secrets; one hand rests on your shoulder, the other on the back of ochako's chair with a bottle gripped between his fingers. when you focus on his face, you can tell he's definitely had a few – not drunk yet, but his smile is wider than it usually is, his eyes taking half a second longer to settle on their targets. tipsy.

"it looked like so much fun over here," he croons, crouching down now so he can make eye contact more easily. the hand on ochako's chair remains, but the one on your shoulder drops down, settling instead on your knee. ochako's eyes flick down to catch the action, and it almost looks like she's suppressing a smirk, but they flit away just as fast. izuku tilts his head to the side. "so what are we talking about?"

she turns to him with a grin. "i was just telling your brilliant coworker how she's the best." he smiles and sighs and pats your leg. you have to set down your beer before you cough anymore of it up.

"she really is, isn't she?" he says to ochako, conspiratorially, like you can't hear what he's saying. "at everything," he adds with a whisper, and ochako nods along solemnly.

"i agree, i agree," she says. she stands, chugging the last of her drink before slamming the empty glass on the table. "deku, you've done us all a great service, bringing her into our lives!" she giggles at herself, pushing out her chair. "and now i need another drink!"

right now, with a buzz brewing and the sun having set outside, everything feels perfect. your feet are the kind of tired that tells you a hard day's work is done, and you can smell the food todoroki ordered wafting from the kitchen. the hand on your knee feels impossibly warm, and you secretly hope izuku doesn't move it, suppressing a sigh when he does.

as soon as ochako is gone, he wastes no time in stealing her chair, scooting it in your direction until your knees are touching. you pretend to fan your face, when you're actually reveling in the attention.

"you're both far too nice to me," you proclaim, glancing up and away like you can't bear to look at him. "what did i do to deserve all these kind words?"

he leans forward, elbows on his knees to prop himself up by his chin. with this invasion of your space, you can smell what has to be cologne or soap or detergent or something, a fresh clean smell, mixing with alcohol and what faintly smells like smoke from a cigarette. you didn't know he smoked, and find yourself inhaling sharply, deeply, memorizing the scent to capture this moment in time.

"you deserve them," he says firmly. the undercurrent of emotion in his words is palpable, and you know that he really means them.

you lean forward too. "thank you. for that, and for inviting me." he doesn't say anything, just gazes at you for longer than he usually dares.

the sounds of ruckus and chatter fade to background noise, and it's all too easy to lose yourself in counting the freckles that pepper his nose. you make it to nine when you finally notice how he’s gone all quiet and still. suddenly, you wonder if maybe you’re traipsing too far over that invisible line, and lean away from him again.

"ochako won't be happy you stole her seat," you deflect. "she and i are really starting to get along!"

"i'm really happy to hear that," he says, sliding both hands on to your knees again, a cheeky smile blooming across his face, "but i don't care about the seat." he shrugs. "she shouldn't leave the best chair in the whole place wide open and not expect it to get taken."

you quirk your brow. "best chair?"

"well, i guess it could be a different one. just whichever is next to you."

despite pacing yourself and drinking lots of water, you feel the room spinning a bit, although it might have less to do with the alcohol and more to do with the man in front of you. he slides his grip just slightly higher, palms resting now on the tops of your thighs.

"since when are you so confident?”

izuku flushes but he doesn’t move his hands, nor does he lose the smirk. "pretty easy to feel confident when you’re looking at me like that."

you put on a smirk of your own. "and how exactly am i looking at you?"

his voice is low and interwoven with tension when he says, "the same way i’m looking at you." he pauses a moment to think, fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of your pants. "what are you doing after this?"

your answer is immediate. "think i’m doing whatever you’re doing."

"in that case... wanna get out of here?"

everything in you is screaming yes!!!, but you hesitate, just for a second. just knowing that if you agree, there's no taking it back. "should... should we wait for the food to come out?"

he laughs a little and stands, extending his hand to you. "m'not hungry right now."

you eye his hand, then take it; faintly, somewhere, there's the sound of an illusion shattering. he gently pulls you to your feet, a hand on your back to steady you, and you subconsciously lean into him, finding his scent is even headier up close. so much for just coworkers, just friends. although if you're honest, you don't think you could ever be just friends with izuku.

taking a deep breath, nose almost touching his shirt, you smile up at him, and find his eyes waiting for you. one of your hands presses against his chest, like the last line of futile resistance against the coming tide.

"in that case..." you murmur, "your place or mine?"

[syrecjh]

MHA ending with Anime of the Year is the closure my heart needed… AND BAKUGO WON BEST SUPPORTING CHARACTER. WE REALLY WON.

[dotlusional]

sleepy whispers | midoriya, i.

ꉂ ᵎᵎ cw/tw: brief horror/gore/unsettling imagery, hurt/comfort, suggestive if u squint, fluff

ꉂ ᵎᵎ a/n: this is a reblog from my previous account

ꉂ ᵎᵎ synopsis: you had a nightmare. luckily, your (very sleepy) boyfriend, izuku, is there to comfort you.

ꉂ ᵎᵎ w/c: ~500

something’s clawing at your chest.

it’s nails— long and sharp, are pricking against the gossamer of your skin, poking and prodding for what lies beneath. contorting it’s form, it punctures the flesh, twisting and plucking, before a grisly scrape rings through your rib cage. finally, it’s clammy grip hooks into your heart as it readies itself to gorge on your innards.

if you don’t move now, it’s going to maul you from the inside out, and leave nothing but chunks of bloody muscle and sinew behind.

move.

why aren’t you moving? move.

move.

you need to move or it’s going to kill you.

“baby?”

you need to move now.

MOVE.

“babe.”

drenched in a cold sweat, you jerk awake, gasping. izuku lies beside you, his groggy hand already reached out to your shoulder, rubbing gentle circles, trying to comfort you.

“you okay, babe?” he asks, voice thick with sleep, low and raspy.

you nod, though your chest is still trembling as he pulls you closer to him.

“bad dream?”

“y…yeah,” you mumble, focusing on how the soft fabric of his pajamas feels against your skin, and taking deep, grounding breaths.

“it’s okay,” izuku murmurs. “deep breaths... good girl.”

after a few more lungfuls of air, your shoulders finally relax, and you let yourself sink into him.

“sorry for waking you up,” you whisper, a tinge of guilt coloring your voice.

he laughs softly, eyes closing again. “it’s okay. a good hero always stays on his toes.”

you roll your eyes at his cheesiness, giving only a small curl of your lips before letting out a short, shaky exhale. “i don’t know if i can sleep anymore…”

izuku’s hand moves to your hairline, going to brush stray strands out of your face, and you close your eyes, letting the gesture soothe you.

only... that doesn’t happen.

instead, his fingertips tap lightly against your forehead in a soft, rhythmic pattern.

“… what are you doing…?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together, your gaze narrowing as it flicks up to his face.

“ASMR,” he responds with a mumble, barely awake. “like those videos you watch. is it working?”

you can hear each tiny tap echo faintly through your skull — so technically, yes — but still… it was stupid.

sweet, but stupid.

you blink, too in disbelief to react extremely. “izuku. get your hand off me.”

“but what about the tingles?”

“izuku,” you warn, tone sharper this time.

a snicker escaping him, he stops, pressing a sleepy kiss to the top of your head. “try to go back to sleep, okay, baby? i’ll just…” — yawn — “make you tingle another time…”

at his wording, you shoot him a glance from the corner of your eye, not quite sure what he meant by that. and yet, you had to hand it to him— he knew how to take your mind off things.

as your eyelids close under the gentle pull of a dream, one much better than the last, a small smile tugs at your lips, comforted by the thought that, no matter what, your sweet and silly boyfriend would always be there for you.

[serohantaswife]

HI HI Adelynn !!! I don’t really know who you write for, so ignore this if you don’t want to ! But what’s your take on yearner izuku ? I would love love love to read something about him :-)

YEARNER IZUKU MY LOOOOVE

Izuku Midoriya is utterly obsessed with you.

I mean, can you really blame him? You’re utterly perfect.

I promise you this man is going to remember every single little thing about you. Your favorite flower, food, movie, song, book series. Check, check, and check.

It all started before your relationship was even established. You might not have noticed but everyone else in your and his day to day lives sure did.

“Did Midoriya really drop off your favorite food again?” Yaoyorozu speaks up when the both of you sit down for your lunch break. “Looks like it.” Your laugh is mildly disbelieving. This was the fourth time just this month after all. “Soon enough it’ll be a ring waiting for you.” Jirou speaks up from behind you. Instinctively you roll your eyes. “Don’t be silly, Izuku is just a friend.” Yaoyorozu hums, mulling over what your purple haired friend was suggesting. “While I know it is none of our business I must say that I agree with Jirou. What man is willing to go that far out of their way to drop off lunch for a friend? Especially as often as he does.”

You didn’t think much of it, they were just teasing you. You’d known Izuku for years, of course you would know if he had a thing for you.

Then came the consistent floral deliveries. A beautiful bouquet full of your favorite flowers was delivered to your apartment once every three weeks at the exact same time. Now this was, of course, harder to write off. All the more reason not to tell Yaoyorozu and Jirou. You didn’t see a need to fill their minds with more silliness.

“You really shouldn’t be spending all this money on me Zuku.” Looking up at the green haired man you could’ve sworn there was a dusting of pink along his cheeks. “I really don’t mind, you just mentioned how happy seeing a fresh bouquet on your table makes you and well, I want you to be happy.” Izuku rubs at the back of his neck , a nervous tic he’s had for as long as you can remember. “If you say so,” You shrug. “But be careful or I’ll get used to this princess treatment. Then what will we do whenever some super model comes and sweeps you off of your feet? I’ll have to go back to buying my own flowers.” You keep your tone light and teasing, though there is an undetectable seriousness. What will you do whenever he finds someone he loves? Be the pathetic pining best friend who’s eyeing him longingly while he watches his bride walk down the aisle? No thanks.

Things take a turn when you notice him getting closer to Uraraka. Of course you had known of their mutual pining back in high school but as far as you were aware they had both gotten over that. At least that’s what you thought before you spotted them together at the bookstore you frequented, Izuku had even taken you a few times. You really did try your best to bury the rising jealousy when you approached the pair. “Fancy seeing you two here.” You say, reaching up and tapping Izuku on his shoulder. From the sound of your voice you were pretty sure you were turning green with envy. “Oh! Hey there (Y/N, I haven’t seen you in ages!” Uraraka looks nervously between you and Izuku. “Uh huh, how’ve you been?” You really do try to keep your focus on the woman in front of you, considering she’s the one you’re talking to. You don’t remember much of the conversation the three of you share, eager to escape the awkward and sort of saddening situation. Could you just ask Izuku what he was doing out it’s her? Sure. Would you? Absolutely not. It’s not really your business anyways, it’s not like he’s yours or something.

Communication with him dwindled some after that with the constant excuses you were giving him. He wanted to go out to the movies? Sorry, work was super busy and you were just exhausted. Your favorite band was going to be playing near you? Nope, you have to visit your parents that day. Truthfully, that one hurt. You had been dying to see them in person. It didn’t take long for Izuku to notice, he’d see you posting stories out with your friends or about being ‘so bored I could die’. If he slid up on those something had always miraculously popped up. And frankly he had had enough of it.

That’s how he found himself taking a very rare day off just to pick up food from your favorite take out place, an even more elaborate bouquet of flowers, your favorite movie, and that dessert you had told him you were dying to try. He knew you would be exiting the elevator soon, after all he pretty much had your work schedule memorized by now. The closer he knew you had to be getting the more his nerves grew. He didn’t know what he had done to drive you away but he would do whatever you wanted to get back into your good graces. He was at the point he would grovel on his hands and knees if you asked him to.

“Izuku?” He hears you say, looking up to meet your gaze. You had just turned the corner and were rapidly approaching the door to your apartment. Today really had been super busy. “Hey.” Seeing you after a week of essentially being ghosted was like taking your first drink of water after aimlessly traveling the desert for a week. “What are you doing here?” It didn’t take a genius to uncover the apprehension in your voice as you eyed the items he held. “Um, can I come in?” A sigh escapes your lips, you knew you’d have to have this conversation eventually but did it really have to be on a day you were this tired? “Sure.”

Inside the tension only seems to rise as Izuku takes in the home that he’s all too familiar with.

“Do you want something to drink?” You offer as he sets his gifts down on your kitchen table. “No thank you.” The two of you had never felt this awkward around one another before.

“Do you really think it’s appropriate for you to be here right now?” The question catches him off guard. He gets that confused puppy look on his face that you know all too well and that accompanied by a little tilt of his head makes your heart squeeze. “I mean, would Uraraka be okay with you being here? Bringing me gifts and stuff?”

Dark eyebrows knit together before realization crosses his face. “The book store.” His voice is barely audible. “Yeah, sorry for interrupting your date by the way.” “(Y/N) that wasn’t-“ You don’t give him time to finish. “You should probably go Izuku. The last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable, she really is a sweetheart.” “Wait, just let me explain.” There’s a sad sort of desperation in his voice. “There’s nothing else to say. Please just go before a rumor gets started. My neighbors are very nosey.”

You go to turn around and walk him to the door but are stopped by a rough hand gripping under your chin. Your eyes go wide at how close the two of you now are. Izuku’s eyes are nearly begging, for you to listen, to understand, to love him the way that he loves you. “Would you please just listen for once. You are so stubborn!” It comes out in a sort of laugh. “I love you. I have always loved you and I will always love you.” He pauses, pressing his forehead to yours before pulling away completely. “There is absolutely nothing between me and Uraraka. That day at the book store? We were there shopping for you. You take up every thought in my head. How do you not understand that?” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging lightly. One look at him would reveal how utterly desperate he is for you to understand.

“I can’t stand that a misunderstanding is what’s made you shut me out.” He drops to his knees, peering up at you through dark lashes. “If you want me to beg you I will. Just, please let me back in. I am desperately in love with you.”

Shock is written plainly on your face. You take a few seconds to process his words before you’re on the floor in front of him.

“Izuku I…. I love you too.” Your foreheads meet again. “May I kiss you?” It’s such a simple question, most wouldn’t think twice about it, but it means the world to you. “Please.” Your voice is so soft now, he wouldn’t hear you if you weren’t so close. But he did and that one word was all he needed before his lips met yours.

The kiss was desperate but not rough. Rather than a desperation to explore every inch of you it was a desperation to make you see how much he adored you.

His hands find your waist, pulling you effortlessly closer. Goosebumps line your body at the sheer gentleness of his touch.

You’re not sure how long it is before you break apart. Minutes? Hours? You find it doesn’t really matter. All you can focus on is the sweetness of his kiss as he plants slow and gentle pecks across your face. Your face that is currently squishes between his large and calloused palms.

“Zuku,” your voice comes out a little funny.

“Yeah?” He pulls back just long enough for you to answer.

“I love you too.”

I hope this was okay, definitely a little rushed cause I was so excited to get this out!

[hevvxx2]

ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ: "ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ." ꨄ𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

ᴘᴀʀɪɴɢꜱ: ɪᴢᴜᴋᴜ ᴍɪᴅᴏʀɪʏᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ! ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴘᴜʀᴇ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

The dorm is quiet in that late-night, almost sacred way where even the building itself feels like it's resting.

You're curled on your side across from him, close enough that your knees brush every now and then if either of you shifts. No phones. No talking. Just… breathing and looking at each other.

Izuku watches you like he's trying to memorize you all over again.

His eyes are softer now—Not weaker, just… quieter. Like the storm inside him finally learned how to settle. There's no flicker of power behind them anymore, no green lightning waiting to spark.

But somehow… they feel warmer.

Safer.

You don't even realize how long you've been staring until he moves.

Slowly, like he's afraid the moment might break, Izuku lifts his hand and cups your cheek. His palm is warm, calloused in places it didn't used to be. Not from power anymore… just from training. From effort.

From him.

You lean into it instantly, eyes fluttering for a second before opening again. Your hand comes up to cover his, holding it there like you never want it to leave.

Then you turn your head slightly and press a soft kiss to his palm.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

His breath catches just barely but you feel it.

And then… something shifts.

Your chest tightens. Your throat burns.

Izuku notices immediately.

"Hey…" He murmurs, voice gentle, thumb brushing just beneath your eye. "What's wrong?"

You shake your head at first, like you can just… swallow it down.

You can't.

A tear slips out anyway.

And then another.

His expression crumples not in panic, but in that deep, aching concern that's so him it almost makes it worse.

"Did I—did I do something?" He asks softly.

You let out a small, shaky breath, tightening your hold on his hand.

"No… no, you didn't—" Your voice breaks, and you huff out a quiet, tearful laugh. "I just…"

You look at him again. Really look at him.

At the freckles.

At the softness.

At the strength that has nothing to do with a quirk anymore.

"I just love you so much."

That does it.

Izuku freezes completely, utterly still like your words hit somewhere too deep for him to react right away.

You keep going anyway, because once it starts, you can"t stop.

"You've been through so much." You whisper, tears slipping freely now. "More than anyone should have to. And you're still… you."

Your thumb brushes over his knuckles.

"You're still kind. Still trying to save people. Still smiling like that."

His lips part slightly. His eyes shine.

"You're so strong, Izuku." You say, voice trembling. "Not because of your quirk.. just… you. Who you are. You're everything good."

He shakes his head instinctively, like he can't accept that not fully but you squeeze his hand tighter.

"And it just…" You swallow hard, your voice softening. "It hurts. Knowing you lost it. Knowing something so important to you is gone."

There's a long, quiet pause.

The kind that feels heavy but not uncomfortable.

Izuku's thumb brushes under your eye again, catching a tear before it falls.

And then he leans closer.

Not to kiss you yet.

Just to rest his forehead against yours.

"I won’t lie." He says quietly. "It… it did hurt. A lot."

Your chest aches at how honest he sounds.

"But…"

He exhales softly and when he pulls back just enough to look at you again, there"s something steady there. Something grounded.

"I don't feel empty."

You blink, searching his face.

"I thought I would." He admits, a small smile tugging at his lips. "But I don't. Because… I got to live that dream. I got to be a hero."

His fingers tighten just slightly against your cheek.

"And I still can be. Just… in a different way."

Your lip trembles.

"And I still have you..."

That breaks you in a completely different way.

"Hey, hey—" He whispers quickly, leaning in closer, his free arm wrapping around you and pulling you into his chest. "That wasn't supposed to make you cry more."

You laugh weakly into him, clutching his shirt.

"'s your fault." You mumble. "You're too sweet."

He huffs out a quiet, embarrassed laugh, resting his chin on your head.

"Yeah… I've been told that."

You stay like that for a while.

Curled into him. Breathing together.

Until your tears slow… then stop.

After a bit, you tilt your head up, looking at him again closer now.

"Still everything good." You murmur.

His face turns pink instantly.

"You're biased, my love."

"Absolutely." You say without hesitation.

That makes him laugh.

And then he leans in and kisses you.

Gentle.

Warm.

Unrushed.

Like he has nowhere else to be and nothing else he needs.

Like this… right here…

Is enough.