It’s my first prompt list! Thank you to my followers for helping. Credit not needed but please don’t repost. Feel free to link back to the list! These may be cliche but I love them.
There’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close
Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn’t help but steal it
I’m dying and I’m confessing my love for you
Kissing in the rain and getting soaked before running inside laughing
Playing with their hair while their head’s in your lap.
Jolting awake after a nightmare and being comforted
“Good morning, beautiful/handsome”
Hands brushing unexpectedly
There’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling
You confessed your feelings and we’re about to kiss but we get interrupted
Secret relationship
We dated in high school but then you moved away but now you’re back in town
Both going to grab the same thing and touching hands, then making eye contact.
We’re roommates but we’re falling for each other
Drunkenly confessing feelings
I need a date for this wedding
“I think I’m in love with you.”
Fake dating AU
Blurting out a confession of love
You’re in a coma and I confess all my feelings only for you to wake up
Blind date set up by friends
You’re my new bodyguard and you’re cute.
“Just tell why you did it!” “Because I’m in love with you, okay!”
You’re my ex but I think I still have feelings for you
Wrapping arms around them when they make breakfast
Cuddling in comfortable silence before murmuring “I love you”
Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second
We literally ran into each other
You’re leaving for something dangerous and I can’t help but kiss you
Painting the house that ends in a paint fight and giggles
“You’ve got something on your lip, here let me.”
A soft smile before leaning in for a kiss
Everyone thinks I should stay away from you because you’re dangerous
Spin the bottle
“Do you trust me?”
Friends with benefits and both people catching feelings.
We’re dating and I didn’t know you were a mobster/biker
Everyone thinks we’re already dating, but we’re just best friends- oh wait
Having a bad day and the other noticing
“You saved my life.”
Overhearing they have feelings for you
I’m going to save you from the terrible date you’re having
Taking care of the other when sick or injured
I’m your new neighbour and I got locked out, help!
You took a bullet for me
Argument leading to kissing/sex
“I’ve been in love with you for years.”
I called you at 2am because I need you
You caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out
I’m not sure I have enough followers on this account yet for this to go anywhere, but, requests open from this list for my fave bnha ships: kiribaku, erasermic, kamijirou, todobaku... or tempt me with an original pair!
Kirishima's not unhappy. He's just... curious. That's all. (kiribaku ish, 1k words, content warning for suicidal ideation)
Kirishima sat on the edge of his balcony, feet dangling four stories above the ground. It wasn’t very high, four stories; he probably wouldn’t even crack, although the flowerbed beneath the common room window would likely never be the same again. He wouldn’t risk any broken bones, twisted ankles or shattered spine. His quirk was useful that way. It didn’t extend to his internal organs, to his brain or his heart, though. Perhaps he would get a concussion, or internal bleeding. Or maybe he’d lose grip of his quirk as he fell through the air, and hit the ground the same way everybody else did, a fragile sculpture of flesh and bone crumpling on impact.
The moon slid through the sky, and Kirishima’s feet dangled above a distant, curious possibility.
Only a possibility; Kirishima didn’t plan to jump. He was happy, in general. He had great friends, a spot at the top hero school in the nation, a successful debut under his belt. It wasn’t just a good life on paper, either; Kirishima truly was excited to get out of bed every morning. They weren’t “if onlys,” these thoughts that ran circles around his brain. “If only I could jump, if only I could swallow the pills, if only I could escape.”
No, they were more of… “what ifs.”
What if I jumped? What if I ran the knife, up my arms or down my thighs? What if I took just one step, when the train comes flying in?
The thoughts called to him the way those little packets marked do not eat begged to be tasted—maybe to be contrary, or rebellious, or maybe just for the knowledge of why, for an explanation not bound in logic and rules but in experience, some primitive instinct telling you not to trust anything you hadn’t tried for yourself.
Kirishima’s feet dangled, and for just a moment his hands slipped, the tiniest bit, against the railing. It wouldn’t take much to find out; letting go would almost be easier than holding on, right now, with the cold wind biting at his fingers and the slightest slick of sweat loosening his grip. He lifted a finger, let his center of gravity drop just to the edge of no return—and then a bird hooted, somewhere in the distance, and suddenly the world slid back into place, a blurry picture coming into focus. The balcony railing was just a balcony railing once again, not an edge beneath which unfolded untold secrets; his feet dangling were just a foolish mistake about to happen, not a question to be answered.
Kirishima swung back over the railing, his feet hitting the cold concrete floor of his balcony with a thud that echoed in the night. He slid his door open, and just like every night this happened, pretended not to see the flash of movement in the curtains of the window just next door, just as the person behind those curtains would pretend not to have seen anything the next day. And why would they? Kirishima didn’t plan to jump, after all.
Bakugou’s eyes fell open in the dark and immediately sought out the neighboring balcony through his window, though he already knew what he’d see there. Nothing woke him up before sunrise, not loud parties nor screaming matches, nothing but the particular sound of a specific balcony door sliding open.
He rolled onto his feet, silent like a cat, and slipped up to where his curtain always hung a bit open just for nights like these. For sleepless nights that left him hazy and moody the next day, nights he would never forgive himself for sleeping through. He hovered in the curtain’s shadow, and on the other side of the window, watched silver moonlight reflect on crimson red as he wondered if this was it—the night that would finally change everything, the night where he’d find out how much time it took to blast through a glass door and over the edge of a balcony, and whether it was faster or slower than the pull of gravity on a stone dropped from four stories up.
The moon slid across the sky, fingers loosened on a railing, and Bakugou’s nails dug a little deeper into the soft flesh of his arm.
Bakugou knew that doors could be opened rather than blasted through, and that gravity’s influence was weaker in the absence of a drop, but the fire that normally raged in his heart and brought all his desires within arm’s reach was quenched by a cold fear that shackled him in place, his feet frozen to the ground, the handle of the window more unattainable than a distant star.
Bakugou knew anger—he wore it like armor against the many disappointments of a life that would never be enough. It protected him, gave him strength and power and bravery. But fear? It was weakness, failure. It was seeing something amiss in the world and rather than forcing it to submit, letting it control you and make you the slave of its whims. Bakugou abhorred it and yet still could not find it in himself to shove it aside, because what would he find in its absence? What if the questions he desperately wanted to ask had an answer he couldn’t just explode away?
A hand lifted, and Bakugou was a coward in the night, heart pounding as he waited for the final movement that would spark his fire back to life, and perhaps extinguish it for good in the same breath.
A bird hooted, shattering the night’s silence. For a moment everything hung in the balance—and then legs swung back onto solid ground, and Bakugou retreated into the shadows just a little farther. They were a secret, these nights, between him and the windowpane; his own private shame not to be shared.
The next day, Bakugou would sluggishly head downstairs to prepare breakfast, and when a familiar head of red hair ambled in with bloodshot eyes, they would both pretend not to notice. Just like Bakugou would pretend not to notice those red eyes catching on the knife in his hand for a heartbeat too long. Just like he’d pretend not to notice the way the contents of the medicine cabinet had been touched—not removed, not taken, only touched.
He would pretend there was nothing to be afraid of, and perhaps if he was very lucky, he might even manage to believe it.
Erasermic fic, T rated, 6.5K. Fluffy mutual pining, confessions, all that good shit ;) Written as a pinch hit for the erasermic secret valentine event!
Shouta's a little overwhelmed when he adds "taking care of Eri" to his usual responsibilities. Luckily, his best friend's here to help, with absolutely no ulterior motives at all.
Eri had only been living at UA for about a week, and Shouta was already exhausted. It wasn’t that she was a particularly hard kid to care for—really, she was more well-behaved and quieter than most of 1-A, not that that was saying much—but she had been having nightmares every night, sometimes multiple times a night, and combined with Shouta’s insomnia it was making for a particularly painful combo.
He hadn’t noticed right away, because she did her best to keep them quiet; he’d only heard her the first time because he’d happened to be up when she started crying. She’d seemed so worried when he’d walked into her room, apologizing over and over for waking him up. Shouta wanted to go find the Eight Precepts of Death and beat them up all over again for what they’d done to her when he thought about it too much. It had taken a long time for her to calm down and accept that she wasn’t going to get in trouble.
After that, he’d put a baby monitor in her room so he could hear her more easily, but he’d found himself more on edge, waking up at every small noise, from her soft tears or the aborted moans she’d let out before she woke up, to the more benign sounds of an owl hooting outside or Hizashi singing in the shower two floors and three rooms away. He didn’t blame her for the nightmares, but he really, really needed a nap. Or three.
So when Hizashi dropped into the seat next to him at breakfast with a bright smile and told him he looked “so tired, dude! You really need to sleep more!” Shouta nearly threw his cup of coffee in his face. It was only the knowledge of how much he needed that coffee that stopped his hand.
“Thank you, Yamada. I hadn’t noticed,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
On the other side of the table, Kayama whistled. “Oooh. You got last named. You’re in trouble now, Mic!”
Shouta turned his glare on her, but after a good 15 years of knowing each other, it had lost its effectiveness. She only grinned in response.
“Nope, I do not have time for mister grumpy pants this morning,” she said airily as she slipped out of her seat, popping the last bit of her bread roll in her mouth. “I’ll see you two at lunch!”
Next to Shouta, Hizashi seemed concerned. “Hey, are you ok? Insomnia worse than usual?”
Shouta sighed, annoyance draining out of him and leaving only fatigue behind.
“No. Eri’s having nightmares. It’s not her fault, poor kid, but I haven’t slept more than 2 hours uninterrupted all week.”
Hizashi winced. “So that’s why you’ve been looking like a zombie. I was wondering if I needed to look into any creepy quirks. You know we can help, right?”
Shouta shrugged. “You can’t, not really. She goes right back to sleep afterwards now that she feels safe. The problem is me, once I’m awake that’s usually it for the night. It wouldn’t help if I went to get one of you.”
“Hmm… Where is she now?”
“Still sleeping, Mirio’s watching her for the day.”
“Alright then,” Hizashi said, “you’re going to go have a nap in my room, and I’ll deal with your homeroom for today. You weren’t planning anything special?”
Shouta wasn’t a slacker— some had even called him a workaholic when he’d shown up for class the day after the attack at USJ—but he had to admit the offer was tempting. Especially when he remembered that Hizashi’s bed was huge, with a memory foam mattress topper, endless pillows… his eyes started drifting shut then and there.
Long fingers grabbed his shoulder and held him upright as he nearly slipped out of his chair. “Hey, hey! Sleeping in bed, not here! Come on, let’s go,” Hizashi said as he pulled Shouta to his feet and shoved an arm around his back to walk him to the elevators. “Bed time for the sleepy kitten.”
Shouta took a half-hearted swipe at his face which he easily dodged. “I told you not to call me that,” he mumbled, but let himself be carried and tucked into bed without any further comments.
I went BNHA for this drabble night on the r/fanfiction discord. Drabbles are 100 words exactly, T-rating max, with assigned themes serving as titles, and 1hr time limit. I’ve never written BNHA before, so hopefully these are good! :)
There when I need you
kiribaku, fantasy!AU
Being a good fighter means being a smart fighter, and engaging one-on-three in his enemy’s natural habitat would be idiotic, so yes, Katsuki’s running. Shh. He weaves through the forest for a few tense minutes before the trees finally give way to empty air. He speeds up, sighing with relief as he runs right off the cliff edge. There’s a moment of weightlessness, and then he hears the flapping of wings and feels a scaly red back break his fall.
Can’t you ever be a little scared?
Katsuki grins. “Nah. I know you’ll always be there when I need you.”
Game Night
kamijiro
Jirou’s calm and down to earth, so at first no one expected the monster she turns into during the weekly game night, but by now they’re all used to it. Most people refuse to team up with her—she’s been known to get vicious with her jacks if she thinks you made her lose—but Denki doesn’t mind; the fewer people want to play with her, the fewer people he has to discreetly zap until they go pick someone else. Playing with Jirou, it’s high-risk, sure—
“Ace, six, aaand done! We win, suckers!”
“YES! I love you, Kaminari!”
—but it’s also high-reward.
Stop finishing my sentences
kiribaku
“We’ve been studying in my room a lot,” Katsuki starts, trying to keep his voice steady. “And uh, I was thinking maybe we could—”
“Study in mine? Sorry bro, of course!”
Katsuki squints. “No, I was gonna say I don’t want to—”
“Tutor me anymore?” Eijirou’s face falls. “I’m sorry, I know I’m annoying, I’ll ask someone else.”
“No! Stop finishing my sentences if you’re gonna do it wrong! I was gonna say maybe we could study in a cafe this time. Just you and me. If you wanted.”
Ah, so that’s how to get him to shut up. Noted.
Number 1 cheerleader
bakugou mitsuki and midoriya inko. You have no idea how much I just wanted to keep going with this concept!
Many people think the biggest rivalry of the decade is Deku vs. Ground Zero. They’re wrong. Certainly, their childhood friendship turned enemies turned friendly rivals is the stuff of stories, but behind the scenes, an even harsher fight unfolds.
“This is a first run Izuku figurine, homemade costume and all,” Mitsuki says with a sharp grin.
Inko’s breath catches—damn it, she wanted that one!—but she knows how to fight back.
“Lovely. That reminds me—have you seen my new print of Katsuki? They only made 5. Had to wait in line 3 days for it, but it was worth it!”
Hold my X, I gotta fight someone.
kiribaku
Katsuki would like to know how he ended up holding his boyfriend’s shirt and pants while said man straddles one of their… acquaintances (not friends, never friends) in the middle of the common room. Around him, class 1-A cheers while 1-B boos and calls for Tetsutetsu to get up. Hah, like that copy cat ever could. Still, while Katsuki enjoys watching Eijirou show off, usually he has the decency to keep his pants on—but no, it was all “They’re Best Jeanist exclusives!” and “Pleaaase, babe!”
Eijirou grins at him, and all Katsuki’s annoyance disappears.
[image is a drawing of shinsou dozing off on a cheerful kaminari’s shoulder. kaminari has his phone cable in his mouth, and explains around it, “oh! it’s cool, he’s just recharging.”]
