after the death of his wife Toji falls in love one more time, and his fear of losing him shows in controlling behavior. Will you both find a solution for it?
The realization that Toji was in love with you made him furious at himself.
How stupid and foolish of him, of his fucking heart for wanting you this way. Love meant vulnerability and vulnerability meant loss.
He had learned that lesson years ago when he stood beside a grave with dirt under his fingernails and realized the only person who had ever truly loved him was gone.
This man had fucking tried keeping you at arms length. But there you were, slipping through every crack in the walls he had built around himself.
You left hair ties around his apartment. A blue, green and two black ones. Who needed that fucking many?
Then his shirts randomly disappeared, only to show up after you showered. “Because they smell like you,” you had said like a sweet angel. Fuck.
In the same breath you complained about his cleaning habits. Laughed at terrible movies and cried during romantic movies.
You touched him with love, softly. You peeked behind the facade of muscles and liked what you saw.
Unbelievable. Toji got used to it.
Fuck, he liked coming home to you and your food and warm kisses. Got used to the excited gasp in your voice when you said his name.
He learned to need your body curled against his warmly at night.
It terrified him. And it fucking terrified him more what it did to him.
“Text me when you get home.”
“Call me if you’re out late.”
“You goin’ alone?”
At first you thought that was so sweet of him. Your big, protective man always worried about you and interested in what you did and when you did it. Until it wasn’t so sweet anymore.
Suddenly Toji needed to know everything. Who you were with. Where you were going. Why you took thirty minutes to answer his messages.
If someone looked at you too long on the street, his jaw locked. If a man got too friendly with you, Toji appeared at your side like a threat carved from muscle and shadows.
Every time you pushed back, he pushed fucking harder.
“You don’t need to go,” he said one evening when you grabbed your jacket.
“It’s Mina’s birthday.” Mina was a coworker who became a dear friend.
“You saw her last week.”
You stared at him from across the apartment. “Toji.”
“What?”
“You’ve been weird for months.”
He scoffed and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Weird.”
“Yes, weird.” You crossed your arms. “You act like I need permission to leave the apartment.”
His expression darkened immediately as he gritted out, “didn’t say that.”
“Wasn’t necessary,” you muttered.
You grabbed your bag anyway, but before you could pass him, his hand caught your wrist. This… You didn’t like this at all.
Of course it didn’t hurt, but your breath caught and your heart stuttered.
Toji had the manner to freeze too, like he realized what he’d done a second too late.
“Don’t go tonight.”
Your brows pulled together. “Why?”
“Just don’t.”
“That’s not an answer.”
His grip tightened slightly. Now you weren’t a meek little mouse and neither you were afraid of your man. He never gave you a reason to fear him.
So, the irritation was a logical consequence.
“Stop acting like you own me, Toji.”
The words hit him hard. Something cracked behind his green eyes. His fingers slipped from your wrist like he’d burned himself.
For a long moment he said nothing. He stood there frighteningly still, and you didn’t know - didn’t know how hard his heart pounded, screamed.
He dragged a hand down his face and laughed once, bitterly, under his breath. “My wife died.”
“Wh-What?”
Toji looked away toward the dark apartment window. “She left for a few hours and never came back.”
The room suddenly felt too small. Tears filled your eyes as his words settled so fucking heavy in your chest.
You had known almost nothing about his past. Toji avoided personal conversations like they physically pained him. Every question about his life before you ended with a shrug or a dismissive grunt. But now the words were spilling out of him like blood from a wound he couldn’t close.
“I kept thinkin’,” he muttered roughly, “if I’d gone with her that day… maybe things would’ve been different.”
Your anger dissolved instantly. And no, no, no. You had suspected that someone hurt him in the past, but that hurt.
“Toji…”
“She was the only good thing I ever had.” His jaw tightened violently. “Then she died.”
There was the real reason. Fear. Raw, ugly fear.
He finally looked at you, and it startled you more than shouting ever could because Toji Fushiguro looked terrified. On the brink of loosing his mind, because he could loose you.
“I know I’m screwin’ this up,” he admitted quietly. “I know that.”
His hand flexed at his side, because he wanted to reach for you but didn’t think he deserved to.
“But every time you walk out that door…” He swallowed harshly. “My head keeps tellin’ me you won’t come back either.”
Your chest ached, because suddenly all the controlling behavior made horribly sense. Oh, this hurts. This hurts so much.
Toji wasn’t trying to cage you. He was trying to outrun grief, trying to hold fate by the throat before it could steal from him again.
Maybe that didn’t excuse the way he acted, but oh fuck, you understood it now.
Slowly you stepped towards him and Toji stiffened warily. This is it, huh, his expression seemed to scream.
“Toji,” you cupped his cheeks softly and kissed the scar on his lips. “You can’t love me like I’m already dead.”
“I don’t know how not to.”
Oh, this man - your man - was in emotional pain and it nearly broke you. You hugged him, clung to his chest where you always felt the safest.
One second passed. Then two, three.
And then his strong arms wrapped around your middle as he pulled you close. The world might fucking rip you away if he loosened his grip. That’s what his brain and scared heart told him.
For a long time he stayed still in your arms. So still that you could hear the uneven rhythm of his breathing against your shoulder. Feel the tension trembling through him beneath the weight of your hands.
He was holding himself together by force alone.
You brushed your fingers through his black hair patiently until some of the tightness left his body.
“We’ll figure it out,” you whispered against his temple. “We’ll fight when we need to fight. We’ll talk when things get bad. And when you’re scared, you tell me instead of trying to control everything by yourself.”
Your hand slid down to his cheek, guiding him back to look at you.
“I’m not asking you to stop loving me, Toji. I’m asking you to trust that loving me doesn’t mean losing me.”
Toji shattered. A tiny, broken sound trapped somewhere deep in his chest and he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for the warm wetness spilling from his eyes right onto your skin. Your heart cracked open at the feeling because this man - this wonderful man - would rather bleed out than cry in front of someone.
Yet here he was, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him alive. You tightened your arms around him immediately.
“It’s okay,” you murmured softly. “I’m here.”
Toji only nodded against your neck. For the first time since you had known him, he allowed himself to be held together instead of pretending he wasn’t falling apart with each day passing.
you didn’t raise your voice around 𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒊 𝑩𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒈𝒐.
as his sidekick, you knew another truth that he wasn’t actually angry at you. still, the way he barked orders, the way his eyes burned when you messed up even slightly, made your chest tight every time. you worked harder than anyone else because you were terrified of disappointing him.
bakugo noticed.
what he’d never say was that every time you flinched, something ugly twisted in his gut. something possessive. something dangerous.
the night it happened, the streets were quiet. too quiet. you were three steps behind him when a group of low-level villains cornered you in an alley, cocky and stupid enough to think bakugo was out of range. one of them grabbed your wrist. another laughed, and called you ‘dyna’s bitch’.
bakugo stopped, slowly turned his head. the explosion that followed wasn’t loud. it was controlled. terrifyingly so. he moved like a force of nature, precise and brutal, putting himself between you and them without hesitation. his voice dropped low, lethal.
“take your hands off my sidekick.”
they didn’t listen. they also never stood a chance.
when it was over, the villains were unconscious, the alley scorched, and bakugo was shaking with barely restrained fury. he turned to you, hands hovering, not quite touching.
“did they hurt you?” he demanded.
you swallowed. “n-no.”
“good. because if they had, there wouldn’t have been bodies left to arrest.”
he exhaled sharply, then did something no one else ever saw when he rested his forehead against yours for a second to ground himself. it was almost intimate.
“you don’t ever let someone talk to you like that again,” he growled. “you hear me?”
your heart slammed against your ribs. “you don’t get to scare me like that either.”
his eyes widened before they softened. “you matter,” he muttered like admitting it terrified him.
you reached for his sleeve, fingers trembling. “you do too.”
bakugo clicked his tongue, turning away so you wouldn’t see his expression. but he didn’t pull back when you stayed close.
from that night on, everyone at the agency understood something new:
you weren’t scary because you worked for bakugo.
you were scary because bakugo was in love with you, and lord have mercy for the poor soul who forgot it.
ft. bakugo, kirishima, denki, shoto, shinsou, hawks, mirko, aizawa, dabi
𐔌𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟꒱ ∂єηкι
denki thinks you’re the cutest thing ever. he calls you “kitty” constantly and makes way too many cat puns.
loves filming your tail when it swishes or flicks, insisting it’s “the best mood tracker ever.”
scratches behind your ears until you melt into his lap, giggling at how fast you purr.
𐔌𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟꒱ ѕнσтσ
shoto is fascinated. he studies your ears and tail with quiet curiosity, asking if they’re sensitive, if they change with temperature, if they need extra care.
he strokes your ears gently when you’re tired, murmuring, “you’re so soft.”
he actually finds your tail comforting. sometimes he wraps it around his wrist while you two talk, as if grounding himself in your presence.
𐔌𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟꒱ вαкυgσ
pretends your ears and tail don’t phase him, but he loves them. secretly finds them adorable, especially when they twitch with your emotions.
he teases you by tugging gently at your tail just to see you hiss at him. “calm down, kitty, i’m just playin’.”
sometimes he catches himself scratching behind your ears. when you start purring, he nearly combusts.
𐔌𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟꒱ ѕнιηѕσυ
shinsou lights up the first time he sees your ears. “you’re literally my dream girl,” he mutters, not even trying to hide it.
he can read your mood instantly. when your ears droop, when your tail lashes. it makes him protective in this quiet, grounding way.
constantly pets your ears, murmuring about how soft you are. he uses it to calm himself down, too.
𐔌𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟꒱ кιяιѕнιмα
kirishima adores your quirk. he gushes over how “manly and cute” your ears are, stroking them gently every chance he gets.
he laughs when your tail swishes, calling it “your mood ring.” he can always tell how you’re feeling just by watching it.
loves curling up with you for naps, your tail wrapping around his waist as you both doze.
𐔌𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟꒱ мιякσ
rabbit meets cat - she adores it. she teases you constantly, calling you “pussycat” or “fuzzy.”
strokes your ears without warning, testing your reactions, laughing when you hiss and swat at her.
secretly thinks you’re the sweetest thing when you curl up in her lap, tail flicking lazily.
𐔌𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟꒱ нαωкѕ
absolutely loses it over your ears and tail. “are you kidding me? cutest damn thing i’ve ever seen.”
flicks your ears playfully, calling you “kitten” every chance he gets.
loves how expressive your tail is. teases you whenever it swishes while you’re annoyed. “aw, tail’s telling on you again.”
𐔌𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟꒱ αιzαωα
aizawa acts nonchalant, but your quirk makes him melt. he scratches behind your ears absentmindedly, the same way he does with cats, and smirks when you start purring.
loves when you curl up against him like an actual cat. especially when he’s napping in his sleeping bag and you sneak inside with him.
your tail becomes his favorite “tether.” he loops it around his wrist or holds it while walking with you.
𐔌𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟꒱ ∂αвι
dabi smirks the first time he notices your ears twitch. “cute. guess i can tell when you’re lying now.”
he tugs your tail when you sass him, just to watch you yelp. “relax, kitten. i’m not gonna break it… unless you want me to.”
secretly loves it when you curl up against him, tail wrapped around his waist. it makes him feel claimed.
it wasn’t unusual that the guys came over to watch you girls training. it usually didn’t bother you. they were respectful… most of the time. that’s why you didn’t notice 𝑯𝒖𝒈𝒐 watching you until it was too late.
now you didn’t want to praise yourself, but you were one of the few who stayed after the games, and sometimes after practice to practice even more. again and again you ran drills until your legs burned. repeated the shots that never landed right, and downright forced your body into a rhythm that didn’t come naturally to you.
“you’re inefficient.”
his voice cut through the empty field. you startled and turned around. he was already closer than you expected.
vivian hugo. a prodigy, and someone you secretly admired. now, not too much.
“what?”
“your movements,” he responded calmly. “they don’t align with your natural aptitude.”
your jaw tightened. “didn’t ask.”
“no,” he agreed. “but you need it.”
he stepped closer, and while it wasn’t threatening, you felt like it was anyway. his eyes moved over you, studying and treating you like a riddle he needed to solve.
“your center of gravity shifts too late,” he continued. “your reaction time is average. your instinct for positioning is inconsistent.”
your eye twitched dangerously as the words landed right into your gut, and you swallowed. “and yet i’m still here.”
he didn’t seem to expect your reply and a hint of interest flickered through his dark eyes. “yes.”
for the first time, since he watched you, hugo wasn’t analyzing your flaws - he was recalculating what he had learned about you.
“that’s the inconsistency.”
you frowned. “what is?”
“you.”
you held your breath as he stepped closer and almost invaded your personal space. the scent of leather and cologne filled your nose. what an intoxicating mix.
“by all observable metrics, you shouldn’t be pursuing this role,” he said. “and yet… you persist beyond reason.”
… and then he ruined it.
anger bubbled up in your chest. “so what, you’re here to tell me to quit?”
“no.”
his hands lifted, a little bit with hesitation, before he adjusted your stance. he turned your shoulders a bit and pressed lightly at your waist.
the touch itself was clinical, but there was something more. he lingered, even when he shouldn’t.
“i’m here,” he said quietly, “because you’re misaligned.”
you froze. “excuse me?”
beneath the logic in his expression you could see something deeper.
“your effort is real,” he said. “your direction isn’t.”
you stepped back, pulling away from his hands. “you don’t get to decide that.”
“i do.”
the audacity had you speechless and yet you stayed. you kept listening.
“everyone has a role that maximizes their existence,” he continued. “forcing yourself into the wrong one is inefficient. wasteful.”
your fists clenched. “maybe i don’t care about efficiency.”
“that’s because you haven’t seen the correct outcome yet.”
oh, and his eyes did that dangerous soft thing again you didn’t like. or did you?
“i can show you.”
“why?” you asked quieter. “why do you even care?”
he didn’t answer immediately. the big vivian hugo hesitated with his words while his eyes seemed to caress your face. he calculated something new.
“because,” he said slowly, “you’re an anomaly.”
you blinked. man seemed to be full of compliments. it made you feel conflicted.
“you contradict your own data,” he continued. “and yet… every time i observe you, the result stabilizes.”
what followed was so unexpected. he allowed himself to take one more step until his firm chest brushed your shoulder and his hand closed around your wrist.
“you shouldn’t work,” he whispered softly. “and yet when i account for you everything else does.”
your breath caught as his unwavering gaze locked into yours. there was something so undeniable possessive about the way he touched you now, the way he looked at you.
it had you weak in the knees.
“so i’ll fix your trajectory,” he continued. “i’ll place you where you’re meant to be.”
deep, warm, and grounding. more of a natural, earthy richness that feels comforting and steady. the kind of flavor that makes you slow down without even realizing it.
giyuu tomioka as blueberry matcha mochi
cool, subdued, and quietly complex. the matcha brings that calm, slightly bitter depth, while the blueberry adds a soft, almost hidden sweetness. there’s more feeling in there than people think.
sanemi shinazugawa as yuzu pepper mochi
sharp, citrusy, and then - heat. it hits fast and doesn’t apologize for it. there’s an edge that almost burns, but underneath? a brightness that keeps you coming back. aggressive flavor, no restraint.
tengen uzui as gold-dusted sakura strawberry mochi
flashy. extravagant. visually stunning and tastes just as good. soft floral sakura with sweet strawberry, elevated with that extra sparkle. it’s a whole performance.
looks intense, is intense. there’s a sharp heat that hits first, almost aggressive, but the chocolate underneath smooths it out just enough to keep you hooked.
izuku midoriya as matcha cream mochi
soft, slightly earthy, but with a gentle sweetness that builds over time. the kind of flavor that feels like it’s taking care of you.
shouta aizawa as plain daifuku
no gimmicks, no extras. simple, traditional, and perfect as it is. dependable flavor, nothing flashy, but you keep coming back because it never disappoints.
shoto todoroki as half strawberry, half vanilla mochi
literally split down the middle. one side bright and sweet, the other cool and smooth. the balance is what makes it special. two distinct flavors that somehow work perfectly together.
denki kaminari as banana mochi
fun, a little chaotic, and unexpectedly sweet. it’s not the most refined flavor, but it’s cheerful and easy to love.
eijiro kirishima as peanut butter mochi
warm, nutty, and solid. super satisfying, super comforting. feels like something that would hype you up while also grounding you at the same time.
hawks as mango mochi
smooth, bright, and effortlessly likable. sweet but never heavy. feels a little luxurious without trying too hard.
dabi as burnt caramel mochi
dark, smoky sweetness with a bitter edge. not everyone likes that slightly burnt taste… but the ones who do are obsessed.
tomura shigaraki tomura as cookies & cream mochi
a little messy, a little chaotic. sweet, but broken up with crunchy bits that make it feel uneven. somehow addictive in a way that’s hard to explain.
sweet, but burnt at the edges. there’s a smoky depth that makes it feel heavier than it should be. addictive in a way that feels a little wrong. the kind of flavor you keep thinking about after.
zanka as dark plum mochi
sharp, tangy, and bold. it hits you immediately. there’s a bitterness underneath the sweetness that gives it bite. leaves a lingering memory on your tongue.
gris as taro mochi
muted, soft, almost mysterious. not overly sweet, but there’s a quiet richness to it. the kind of flavor people overlook until they try it and go “wait.”
follo as honey lavender mochi
soft, floral, almost delicate, but there’s something slightly unusual about it. sweet in a calm, dreamy way. feels gentle on the surface… but there’s depth if you pay attention.
jabber as popping candy chocolate mochi
absolute chaos. sweet chocolate base and then suddenly crackling, popping energy. unpredictable, loud, a little unhinged. you don’t eat this calmly. you experience it.
zodyl as black cocoa mochi
dark, bitter, intense. this is for people who like their flavors deep and heavy. it sits with you. it doesn’t leave quickly, and it doesn’t want to.
refined, bitter, expensive-tasting. not overly sweet, not trying to please anyone. definitely not for everyone and he prefers it that way.
rin itoshi as matcha mochi (no filling)
pure, intense, slightly bitter all the way through. if you get matcha, you get why it’s good. very “i don’t need anything extra” energy.
seishiro nagi as milk mochi
soft, pillowy, melts the second you bite into it. super mild, but weirdly addictive. you don’t expect much… and then suddenly you’ve eaten three without noticing.
yoichi isagi as strawberry jam mochi
balanced. there’s sweetness, a little tang, and it just works. it’s the kind of flavor that grows on you fast.
meguru bachira as mango passionfruit mochi
bright, tropical, slightly chaotic. sweet with a tangy kick that keeps things interesting. it pops. definitely the one that stands out in the box without even trying.
ryusei shidou as raspberry chili mochi
sweet, sharp, and then suddenly heat. it hits in layers and doesn’t hold back. a little wild, a little unhinged.
shoei barou as black sesame cream mochi
deep, rich, commanding. strong flavor that takes up space. not subtle in the slightest. you either respect it or you don’t deserve it.
rensuke kunigami as caramel mochi
warm, golden, dependable. sweet but not overwhelming. the kind of flavor that makes you feel giddy.
vivian hugo as champagne peach mochi
light, elegant, a little fancy. soft sweetness with a subtle sparkle to it. there’s a smooth confidence to it that feels effortless.
warm, comforting, universally loved. soft and approachable on the outside, but the inside is rich and full of heart.
yuta okkotsu as vanilla custard mochi
soft, gentle, and deceptively simple. vanilla sounds basic until you taste it done right. then it’s rich, comforting, and quietly addictive.
megumi fushiguro as matcha red bean mochi
calm, earthy, slightly bitter at first bite, but balanced with that quiet sweetness inside. not everyone’s first pick, but the ones who get it are obsessed.
kento nanami as honey kinako mochi
simple, classic, and done perfectly. no unnecessary extras - just warm sweetness that feels reliable and grounding.
satoru gojo as strawberry cream mochi
sweet, flashy, and an instant eye catcher. the soft strawberry outside is playful and flirty, but the cream inside? rich, indulgent, a little too addictive.
choso kamo as cherry mochi
sweet, but with a subtle tartness that hurts a little. there’s something emotional about it. it’s soft, almost delicate, but intense underneath.
sukuna as black sesame mochi
deep, nutty, slightly bitter with a lingering richness. an acquired taste, and some people hesitate, others become devoted.
suguru geto as blueberry mochi
soft and inviting at first, but there’s a deeper, almost melancholic richness underneath. slightly tart and slightly sweet.
toji fushiguro as coffee mochi
bold, bitter, and absolutely not for everyone. first bite hits strong, but there’s this deep, roasted warmth underneath that keeps pulling you back.
the door opened without a sound and yet the entire common room of cleaners went quiet.
𝑪𝒐𝒓𝒗𝒖𝒔 stepped inside like he owned the air everyone breathed. conversations died mid sentences and enjin’s laughter cut off sharply.
no one dared to greet him in this moment. it wasn’t disrespect from their part, but the knowledge that a man like corvus was on the edge when you came back from missions.
like right now. you were still dusty and tired, but you knew defying your man would be a mistake.
he was protective like that.
your heartbeat picked up even when you should get used to it by now. it was from the weight of everyone watching, holding their breath… and maybe the cut you hid under your clothes.
“come to me,” he ordered calmly, and you obeyed.
his eyes didn’t leave you for a second as he took in your appearance. love wrapped in possessiveness, you’d call it.
his hand lifted and he tilted your chin, angling your face towards the light. his other hand moved to your arm, sliding down, turning it to inspect for anything out of place.
the room felt suffocating. no one spoke. no one moved.
his hand moved to your shoulder, then lower before he paused. his fingers stilled near your side, where the fabric hid the cut. you sighed softly as his gaze dropped, narrowing.
“what happened?” he asked controlled.
that was the moment the tension snapped across the room. you exhaled quietly and offered a small smile.
“it’s nothing,” you tried brushing it off. “just a scratch, i promise.”
his grip tightened slightly as he weighed in the options what to do next. before he could go for something drastic you lifted your shirt and he closed his eyes for a second.
just a cut. it didn’t even need stitches.
“next time i want you to come to me immediately when you’re hurt,” he said quietly.
you nodded and moved to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, “okay.”
from somewhere behind you enjin murmured, “may we all stay safe if something happens to her.”
corvus lips twitched in return, but no truer words were spoken. heaven help them all when the day would come that his woman got seriously injured. not even her sweet voice and gentle touches could save any of them then.
dededos
kianamaiart
turnnoffyourmind
baratheonpilled
areudirty
romaincrisis
snowghoul