Name-Eleanor She/her British ....................... Fandom(ranked in most activness) 1●Stranger Things 2●My hero academia 3●IT 4●Fnaf 5●Marauders 6●Percy jackson 7●Harry potter universe 8●wednesday 9●spider-verse 10●Marvel 11●A good girls guide to murder 12●Hunger games 13● Black phone 14●Heartstopper 15●DC
fanfiction is so beautiful because what do you mean i can read the same characters falling in love 92737389 times in different scenarios and not get tired of it.
“Eww don’t ship them ! They’re just friends/ they hate each other/ they barely have any interaction/they never even met/they’re not from the same series !”
Pussy. Back in my days, we shipped Elsa and Jack Frost to hell and back because they were both ice themed.
Summary : Everyone is horrified that Bucky is flirting with a married woman, but then they realise there's a reason why.
Pairing : Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x florist!reader (she/her)
Warnings/tags : Secret wife trope. Cursing, Injury. Featuring the Thunderbolts*. Bucky kinda gaslights the entire team. Fluff!!!!
Word count : 3k
Note : The next chapter of spoils of war is almost here, but I just need to go over a couple of paragraphs! In the meantime, enjoy!
The Thunderbolts knew a few undeniable truths about Bucky Barnes.
One: He was grumpy.
Two: He was a private person.
Three: He never, ever let anyone see where he lived.
That last one bothered them the most. They’d pieced together the general area; a quiet neighborhood with old brick buildings, modern cafés, and just enough charm to make it feel… vintage. But no one had ever set foot inside his home, no one had even seen him unlock the door to his sanctuary, since he dodged every casual suggestion to hang out at his place with a variation of “I got plans” or another. And, curiously, every time they stopped for coffee in this part of town, Bucky would mysteriously slip into the tiny flower shop beneath a brick apartment building.
That was odd. No one would’ve guessed that Bucky Barnes even liked flowers.
What was even odder was that this infinitely grumpy, emotionally constipated, “I hate people” supersoldier — would be capable of flirting.
With the florist.
With you.
“Are we seeing this right?” Yelena whispered, elbowing Alexei as they peered through the shop window after Bucky made them wait outside.
They watched as Bucky stood by the counter, leaning in ever so slightly, a charming grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you wrap a bouquet.
“He’s smiling,” Alexei muttered, horrified.
Inside, Bucky reached for the bouquet you were tying up, his gloved fingers brushing against yours. You playfully smacked his hand away, laughing. He laughed, too, and that was enough to send Yelena spiraling into an existential crisis.
Yelena squinted. “He’s flirting.”
Alexei frowned. “Bucky does not flirt.”
“I know. That’s why I’m freaking out.”
They watched as you handed him the bouquet, and in return, Bucky gave you a wink. And then he turned, walking out like he hadn’t just transformed into a different person.
That was when Yelena, utterly horrified Yelena, caught a flash of gold on your ring finger. She squinted her eyes. It was unmistakable. “Wait a second—”
As soon as he got back to them, Alexei folded his arms. “You were flirting.”
Bucky scoffed. “I was not.”
“She’s married!” Yelena accused, pointing dramatically. “She had a ring! You flirted with a married woman!”
Bucky didn’t even blink. He simply shrugged, tucking the bouquet carefully under his arm. “I didn’t see a ring.”
“She was literally wearing it—”
“I didn’t see a ring,” Bucky insisted, tugging absentmindedly at the chain around his neck— the one that held his dog tags, hidden under his shirt.
Yelena and Alexei exchanged a deeply disturbed look.
Bucky Barnes was flirting with a married florist.
What was the world coming to?
—
Bucky knew he’d fucked up the second he stepped back into Thunderbolts HQ.
Alexie had just looked confused, while Yelena had been simmering the entire walk back, her arms crossed so tightly over her chest it was a miracle she hadn’t snapped a rib.
She lasted exactly two seconds before she exploded. “You are jackass, Barnes!”
Bucky barely had time to sigh before she stomped closer.
“What’s so wrong with what I did?” he muttered, placing the bouquet of flowers in an empty vase
Yelena let out an incredulous laugh, pacing in front of him like a caged tiger ready to strike. “What’s wrong?” she echoed, her accent thickening with rage. “You flirted with a married woman! I should punch you in the face on principle!”
From the lounge, John Walker looked up from whatever government-issued nonsense he was pretending to read. His brows immediately furrowed, his eyes twisting into the signature disapproving dad look he’d perfected. “Wait, what?”
Ava, who had been drinking tea in the corner, raised an eyebrow. “This is scandalous,” she murmured, eyes brightening with intrigue.
Alexei, who was now plopped on the couch like some washed-up, Soviet-era king, said, “If a man had flirted with my wife like that, I would have hunt him down and mount his head on wall.” He crossed his arms, nodding to himself in approval. “As is tradition.”
Bucky scowled. “I wasn’t flirting.”
“Oh?” Yelena snorted, “So you were just undressing her with your eyes for fun, then?”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s just how I look at people.”
Alexie shook his head. “So you look at us like that?”
Bucky opened his mouth. Then immediately shut it.
Yelena’s hands curled into fists. “Yeah. Thought so.”
John’s arms crossed over his chest in that holier-than-thou stance that he was so famous for. “Look, man, I’m married. And if someone flirted with my wife, we’d have a problem.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Bucky groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You guys are making a big deal out of nothing.”
“Nothing?” Yelena threw up her hands. “She’s married, Bucky!”
“Okay, even if I was flirting,” Bucky turned to her, exasperated— “I didn’t see a ring.”
Yelena’s hands flew to her head, fingers digging into her scalp like she was resisting the urge to rip out her own hair. “You probably chose to look away!”
John sighed like a disappointed youth pastor. “This is unbelievable.”
“No,” Bucky still insisted, “I didn’t see a ring.”
Yelena’s jaw dropped. “It was a thick gold band, Barnes. How could you not see it?”
Ava, who was clearly enjoying the drama more than anyone, sighed. “That is inappropriate behaviour, Barnes.”
Alexei shook his head again, “You should apologise.”
“I’m not apologising,” Bucky scoffed, “Because I did nothing wrong.”
His fingers toyed absentmindedly with the chain that led to his dog tags, and Yelena immediately locked onto the movement. Every person has a tell, a habit they did when they were nervous. And being a super spy, Yelena knew this was his.
She narrowed her eyes. “You are gaslighting us,” she muttered, pacing again like she was mentally weighing the pros and cons of strangling a super soldier.
“I didn’t see a ring,” Bucky repeated, his voice steady.
“You’re lying,” she snapped.
He shrugged, maddeningly casual in all of this chaos. “Guess we’ll never know.”
Ava laughed cynically. “I can’t tell if you’re a complete scumbag or if this is just really fun for you.”
Bucky just popped a beer from the fridge, flicking the cap off with his metal hand. “Why not both?”
He took a long sip of his beer, completely unbothered.
And maybe, he looked a little bit too smug.
—
Three weeks later, Bucky led Yelena and John on a mission to take down a high-scale arms dealer.
And, as always, the mission had gone sideways.
It was too late for any shops to be open, too late for anyone with a shred of common sense to be out on the streets.
Yelena was bleeding, pressing a torn scrap of fabric against a deep gash on her arm. John had a busted lip and a slight limp. Bucky was sporting a few cuts and bruises himself, but nothing he hadn’t shaken off a thousand times before.
“Guys,” Yelena managed a grunt, shifting her grip on her makeshift bandage, “we need to get ourselves patched up before one of us drops dead.”
“We ran out of antiseptics back at HQ,” John reminded them.
Yelena groaned, throwing her head back in despair. “So what are we supposed to do?” She gritted out, “Just bleed out in the street like sad little orphans?”
John scowled. “That’s a little dramatic.”
Yelena turned and glared at him. “Your face is dramatic.”
Bucky let out a deep breath through his nose, running a hand along his damp hair. He glanced around the street, making sure they weren’t being followed before whispering to himself, “Guess we’re doing this now.”
Yelena tilted her head. “Doing what?”
Instead of answering, Bucky turned on his heel and started walking.
John and Yelena gave each other a wary look.
“I don’t like when he does that,” John said.
“No one does,” Yelena agreed, but they both followed anyway.
It didn’t take long for them to recognise the route— It was the neighbourhood where the team usually got coffee.
But Bucky wasn’t heading to the café.
They rounded the corner, and suddenly John stopped dead in his tracks.
It was a closed florist—the very one where Bucky had, allegedly, been trying to charm his way into a married woman’s bed.
To John’s absolute horror, Bucky walked right up to the door and knocked.
“Bucky.” He said, voice strangled. “What the hell is this?”
Yelena blinked. “I don’t think we need to seduce a married florist to get medical supplies.”
Bucky sighed, rubbing his temples like he was already regretting this decision. He turned to them, leveling them both with a look. “Alright, listen up,” he said through gritted teeth. "The secret’s out now, so you two gotta keep your mouths shut.”
John’s brows furrowed. “What secret?”
Before Bucky could answer, the door to the flower shop clicked open.
And there you were, standing in the doorway, wrapped in one of Bucky’s hoodies, looking exactly how he’d expected: exasperated but unsurprised. He knew you’d still be up, cataloguing the latest floral shipment for tomorrow’s arrangements.
The second your eyes landed on a bruised and bloodied Bucky, and flanked by two wounded Thunderbolts, no less—you let out a sigh.
“James,” you said knowingly, your voice laced with fond irritation. “What did you do?”
Yelena and John froze in their tracks.
James?
James?
No one called Bucky by his first name. No one. Not unless they had a death wish.
Bucky, unfazed, just stepped inside. “We ran out of antiseptics, honey.”
Yelena and John exchanged a wide-eyed look.
Honey?
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Again?”
Bucky shrugged like this was a perfectly normal Thursday night occurrence.
You muttered under your breath, “I should’ve known this would happen when I married an ex-assassin.”
Oh.
Yelena’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Married.” she repeated
John blinked rapidly. “This is why we can never go to your place?”
Bucky could only shrug. Of course it was— they would have seen the evidence of how much love in his home was carved out for just you.
John let out a wheeze.
Yelena pointed between you and Bucky, motioning erratically. “Wait. WAIT. So—so she’s your wife? She married you?”
Bucky nodded. “Yup.”
“Like—actually married?”
“Mhm.”
Yelena gasped, clutching her chest like she’d been personally betrayed. In a way, she had. “And no one knows?”
Bucky thought for a second. “Sam does.”
“And Joaquin,” you added, trying to be helpful.
Bucky nodded. “Right. Joaquin.”
“Oh, and Isaiah and Elijah Bradley.”
“Yeah, they were at the wedding.”
“A teenager knew about this,” John’s eye twitched, “—and we didn’t?”
Bucky could only nod again.
Yelena rubbed a hand down her face, “You gaslit us,” she accused, jabbing a finger at Bucky. “You let us believe you were a homewrecker for weeks—when you were married the whole time?!”
You snorted, glancing at Bucky, who had the audacity to look smug. “Yeah, that sounds like my husband.”
Yelena let out a string of very creative Russian curses.
John looked like he was about to have a stroke.
“All secrets aside,” you said, welcoming the two disoriented Thunderbolts in and locking the door behind you, “It’s good to finally meet you both.”
John still looked like he was buffering. Yelena, on the other hand, was vibrating with adrenaline, looking like she was trying to solve a conspiracy theory in real time.
“This is—this is insane,” she muttered, pointing aggressively at Bucky, then at you, then back at Bucky. “You’re—you’re so normal.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I’d like to think so.”
Bucky just hummed. “She’s perfect.”
Yelena actually sputtered like an old car engine.
John made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a strangled laugh. This was all too much.
But there wasn’t time to let them spiral further. Bucky, gently nudged you toward the others. “Take care of them first, darling. They’ve got worse injuries.”
You frowned, wanting to protest—because, really, Bucky should always be your first priority—but your husband was nothing if not stubborn. You knew better than to argue when he had that look in his eyes— you knew that fighting him on this would only drag things out longer, and right now, time was precious.
You turned your attention to Yelena and John, motioning for them to follow you deeper into the shop. The scent of lavender, roses, and freshly cut stems—clung to the air as you led them toward the back, where your little work table stood tucked in the corner.
Years of practice had made you quick. You moved with quiet efficiency, gathering supplies from neat shelves: you cut and split an aloe vera plant for burns, grabbed bandages, and a mix of balms you’d perfected over your time tending to Bucky. It wasn’t the kind of sterile, military-grade first aid they were used to, but it would have to do for now.
You started tending to Yelena’s arm, gently dabbing the wound with fresh aloe. She hissed through her teeth before narrowing her eyes at you.
“So how long has this been a thing?” she demanded. Bucky, now leaning lazily against the counter with his arms crossed, barely spared her a glance. “A while.”
John scoffed, “A while?”
You bit back a grin as you smoothed a bandage over Yelena’s arm, “Three years.”
Yelena’s jaw dropped.
“Three—” She turned to Bucky so fast it was a miracle she didn’t give herself whiplash. “You’ve been married for three years?!”
John let out a long, defeated groan,This was simply too much to process. “Fuck’s sake.”
Yelena shook her head. “I thought you were a loner who hated people."
Bucky only shrugged, unbothered.
You chuckled as you pressed the last piece of medical tape into place on Yelena’s arm. “Alright, you’re done.” Then, glancing at John, you motioned for him to sit. “Your turn.”
John sighed but still plopped down. You took his hand gently, turning it over to examine his bruised knuckles before moving to his busted lip.
Meanwhile, they kept peppering you with questions, barely giving you room to breathe.
“How did you meet?”
“How do you put up with Bucky’s brooding?”
“Does he ever actually smile?”
At that last one, you paused, dabbing at John’s lip carefully. “He smiles all the time.”
John let out a scoff. “No, he doesn’t.”
You glanced over at Bucky, knowing he showed that part of him to you and no one else. “Oh, he does.”
And then, finally, it was Bucky’s turn.
You turned to him, your brows knitting together as you studied the little cuts on his cheek, the dried blood near his brows. He looked a little tired, a little worn around the edges.
Your fingers found his chin, tilting his face toward you as you inspected the damage. Your touch was so featherlight, so incredibly careful. There was no missing the way your thumb brushed over his cheekbone— how incredibly gentle it was.
“You should’ve let me do you first,” you murmured, half-scolding, half-concerned.
Bucky’s lips curved into a small smile, a flicker of mischief lighting his tired blue eyes. “That’s exactly what you said last night, sweetheart.”
John choked.
Yelena groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow from the nearest chair and hurling it at Bucky’s head. “You two are disgusting.”
Bucky caught the pillow effortlessly, giving her a smug grin before setting it aside. When his eyes found yours again, his shit-eating grin turned… lovely. The tension in his brows eased as you dabbed gently at his cut.
For all the blood, for all the bruises, you handled him like he was glass.
And then, without thinking, you leaned in.
It was meant to be a brief kiss— a quick reassurance, a way of saying I’ve got you. But the moment your lips brushed his, you couldn’t help but linger.
Your fingers curled instinctively against his chin. His hand found your waist without hesitation, as if he needed you closer. As if the world shrank down to just the two of you.
John and Yelena exchanged a look, the previous horror of their teammate hiding a secret wife momentarily forgotten because this was… weirdly cute.
You giggled as you pulled away, seeing Bucky looking at you like you hung the moon for him.
“Anywhere else?” you asked, brushing your thumb over his lips.
Bucky hesitated just for a second. Then, a little sheepishly, he said, “Got a cut on my ribs.”
You exhaled, shaking your head. Of course he did. Before he could argue, you reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged.
“Off,” you said simply.
Bucky huffed but didn’t fight you. He lifted his arms, letting you strip the fabric from his skin, and goddamn.
Bucky, half-naked, was unfairly, ridiculously beautiful. Even now, even after all this time, seeing him like this still knocked the breath from your lungs. His body was a roadmap of battles fought and survived, scars carved into the expanse of his chest and ribs that told stories only he could say.
John made a strangled sound, somewhere between “Jesus Christ” and “I need to leave the room,” but you ignored him completely. Yelena let out a dramatic sigh and whispered “they are one second away from sucking each other’s face off,” to herself.
You tuned them both out, fingers dragging carefully over Bucky’s ribs, searching for the wound. When you found a thin jagged cut just below his ribs— you sighed softer this time and reached for the aloe.
“You need to stop getting hurt, my love,” you said, smoothing the cool gel over his skin.
Bucky’s voice came quieter. “Lucky I have someone to take care of me, then.”
And that’s when Yelena finally noticed it.
The thin chain around Bucky’s neck—one she’d always assumed was just for his dog tags—held something else, too.
A ring.
A simple wedding band that matched yours, worn from years of resting against his skin.
She blinked, realisation hitting her like a freight train. Oh.
That’s why he always played with it.
Every time Bucky was nervous, every time he was uncertain, his fingers would move to that chain—not just to fiddle with his tags, but to remind himself of you.
Maybe he wasn’t a complete jackass after all.
-end.
Note: Hope this doesn't bite me in the ass when the movie comes out.
Pedro was asked to write about Niko Parker (who played Sarah in HBO TLOU) and look what he said 🫠🫠🫠💕💕💕 “You’re my first daughter, I will always protect you” 😭♥️ Pedro is daddy coded for real. I love this man so much
Can you do plantoic ochako and child!reader who is daughter of bakudeku and see Ochako as her aunt?
(I love mha girls and they deserve more fics about them)
"Auntie Gravity"
Pairing: Platonic Ochako Uraraka & Child!Reader
Family: Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku (parents), child reader
Genre: Fluff, Family, Slice of Life
Word Count: ~1,300
---
“Auntie ‘Chakooooooo!”
Your squeal echoed across the park as you sprinted toward her, arms wide and hair bouncing. Ochako barely had time to set down her shopping bag before you collided into her legs with full toddler-force.
She laughed, instantly crouching down to your level. “There’s my favorite tiny gremlin! Did your dads let you have sugar again?”
You looked up at her with the biggest grin, eyes sparkling. “Daddy Katsuki made mochi! I had four!”
Ochako mock-gasped. “Four? You’re gonna float away without even touching me!”
You giggled wildly as she scooped you up in one smooth motion, spinning you around. Her arms were warm and familiar — safe, like the way Midoriya hummed when he brushed your hair or how Bakugou always made sure your shoes were double-knotted.
Uraraka was your “Auntie Chako,” not by blood, but by choice — and that made it even better. She was warm and fun and always smelled like strawberry lip balm. You loved your dads more than anything, but when they were off saving the world, she was who tucked you in, made pancakes shaped like All Might, and gave you piggyback rides.
Today was a special treat: Uraraka Day, a full afternoon just the two of you.
You were already bouncing in her arms as she settled you on her hip. “Are we going to the market? Are we gonna get takoyaki? Can we look at the koi fish?”
“Yes, yes, and extra yes,” she said, booping your nose. “But only if you promise not to float off without me.”
You held up two tiny fingers in a peace sign. “Promise!”
---
Later that afternoon, after two taiyaki, one koi pond visit, and exactly eleven minutes at a quirk-friendly playground, you found yourself lying on the grass beside her, arms splayed out, cheeks sticky with red bean paste.
“Do you think I’ll float one day?” you asked suddenly, staring up at the clouds.
Ochako blinked and looked over. “You mean like me?”
You nodded. “I don’t know what my quirk is yet. Papa says it’s too early. But… I wanna float like you. It looks fun.”
She smiled softly. “Well, you’re already good at lifting people’s hearts. That’s kind of like floating, huh?”
You giggled. “That’s cheesy.”
“You sound like your Papa.”
You grinned. “I know.”
Ochako reached over and tickled your sides, making you squeal and wiggle. Then she stilled and looked at you with that warm, slightly misty gaze she always got when she was trying not to cry.
“Hey,” she said, brushing a leaf out of your hair. “You know you can always come to me, right? If your dads are busy saving the world, or yelling at each other about laundry, or doing interviews—”
“They do that a lot,” you interrupted solemnly.
“—then I’m here,” she continued, smiling. “Always.”
You reached out and hugged her suddenly, little arms barely wrapping around her waist.
“I know,” you mumbled into her jacket. “You’re my hero too, Auntie ‘Chako.”
Ochako blinked fast.
Then she picked you up and whispered in your ear, “Want me to show you something cool?”
You gasped. “Cooler than takoyaki?!”
“Way cooler.”
She gently tapped your shoulder with her fingertips — a feather-light Zero Gravity activation — and in seconds, the world below you got just a little lighter.
The two of you floated a foot off the grass, just enough to make your feet swing. You shrieked in joy, holding onto her like a little rocket ship passenger.
“I’M A CLOUD!” you yelled, arms in the air.
“More like a sky goblin,” she laughed. “Don’t tell your dads.”
---
That night...
When Bakugou came to pick you up, grumbling about your bedtime and checking for grass stains, Midoriya ruffled your hair and asked, “Did you have fun?”
You beamed up at them. “Best day ever. I floated.”
Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “She used her quirk on you?”
“She didn’t launch her into space or anything,” Ochako said dryly. “We stayed under one meter, Ground Zero.”
Midoriya chuckled. “She’s in good hands. The best, actually.”
You yawned, tugging at Ochako’s sleeve. “Auntie ‘Chako?”
“Yeah, sweetpea?”
“When I get my quirk, will you help me practice?”
She smiled, brushing your hair back. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”
You reached up for one last hug. “I love you.”
Ochako squeezed you tight. “I love you too, my little cloud.”
Can you do plantoic ochako and child!reader who is daughter of bakudeku and see Ochako as her aunt?
(I love mha girls and they deserve more fics about them)
"Auntie Gravity"
Pairing: Platonic Ochako Uraraka & Child!Reader
Family: Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku (parents), child reader
Genre: Fluff, Family, Slice of Life
Word Count: ~1,300
---
“Auntie ‘Chakooooooo!”
Your squeal echoed across the park as you sprinted toward her, arms wide and hair bouncing. Ochako barely had time to set down her shopping bag before you collided into her legs with full toddler-force.
She laughed, instantly crouching down to your level. “There’s my favorite tiny gremlin! Did your dads let you have sugar again?”
You looked up at her with the biggest grin, eyes sparkling. “Daddy Katsuki made mochi! I had four!”
Ochako mock-gasped. “Four? You’re gonna float away without even touching me!”
You giggled wildly as she scooped you up in one smooth motion, spinning you around. Her arms were warm and familiar — safe, like the way Midoriya hummed when he brushed your hair or how Bakugou always made sure your shoes were double-knotted.
Uraraka was your “Auntie Chako,” not by blood, but by choice — and that made it even better. She was warm and fun and always smelled like strawberry lip balm. You loved your dads more than anything, but when they were off saving the world, she was who tucked you in, made pancakes shaped like All Might, and gave you piggyback rides.
Today was a special treat: Uraraka Day, a full afternoon just the two of you.
You were already bouncing in her arms as she settled you on her hip. “Are we going to the market? Are we gonna get takoyaki? Can we look at the koi fish?”
“Yes, yes, and extra yes,” she said, booping your nose. “But only if you promise not to float off without me.”
You held up two tiny fingers in a peace sign. “Promise!”
---
Later that afternoon, after two taiyaki, one koi pond visit, and exactly eleven minutes at a quirk-friendly playground, you found yourself lying on the grass beside her, arms splayed out, cheeks sticky with red bean paste.
“Do you think I’ll float one day?” you asked suddenly, staring up at the clouds.
Ochako blinked and looked over. “You mean like me?”
You nodded. “I don’t know what my quirk is yet. Papa says it’s too early. But… I wanna float like you. It looks fun.”
She smiled softly. “Well, you’re already good at lifting people’s hearts. That’s kind of like floating, huh?”
You giggled. “That’s cheesy.”
“You sound like your Papa.”
You grinned. “I know.”
Ochako reached over and tickled your sides, making you squeal and wiggle. Then she stilled and looked at you with that warm, slightly misty gaze she always got when she was trying not to cry.
“Hey,” she said, brushing a leaf out of your hair. “You know you can always come to me, right? If your dads are busy saving the world, or yelling at each other about laundry, or doing interviews—”
“They do that a lot,” you interrupted solemnly.
“—then I’m here,” she continued, smiling. “Always.”
You reached out and hugged her suddenly, little arms barely wrapping around her waist.
“I know,” you mumbled into her jacket. “You’re my hero too, Auntie ‘Chako.”
Ochako blinked fast.
Then she picked you up and whispered in your ear, “Want me to show you something cool?”
You gasped. “Cooler than takoyaki?!”
“Way cooler.”
She gently tapped your shoulder with her fingertips — a feather-light Zero Gravity activation — and in seconds, the world below you got just a little lighter.
The two of you floated a foot off the grass, just enough to make your feet swing. You shrieked in joy, holding onto her like a little rocket ship passenger.
“I’M A CLOUD!” you yelled, arms in the air.
“More like a sky goblin,” she laughed. “Don’t tell your dads.”
---
That night...
When Bakugou came to pick you up, grumbling about your bedtime and checking for grass stains, Midoriya ruffled your hair and asked, “Did you have fun?”
You beamed up at them. “Best day ever. I floated.”
Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “She used her quirk on you?”
“She didn’t launch her into space or anything,” Ochako said dryly. “We stayed under one meter, Ground Zero.”
Midoriya chuckled. “She’s in good hands. The best, actually.”
You yawned, tugging at Ochako’s sleeve. “Auntie ‘Chako?”
“Yeah, sweetpea?”
“When I get my quirk, will you help me practice?”
She smiled, brushing your hair back. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”
You reached up for one last hug. “I love you.”
Ochako squeezed you tight. “I love you too, my little cloud.”
another universe where Katsuki and Izuku have a baby girl but they find out she's quirkless
she comes home one day her pretty pink dress she picked out the night before with a giant smile on her face is covered in mud and ripped, her gorgeous pigtails that swayed side to side as Katsuki dropped her off this morning were twisted, and she has scrapes all over her arms and legs. She walks over to Katsuki who was sitting on the front step waiting for the bus to drop her off.
"What happened at school today" Katsuki tried not to yell but his blood boiled who the fuck would do this to someone? Memories of his childhood started rushing back, moments he'd like to forget for the sake of his mind. Is this how Izuku came home everyday to his mom?
"Dad" She wipes tears from her eyes "Am I useless"
"These girls at recess were making fun of this new guy because he has really big glasses, so I stepped in because he looked really scared, but then they-" Her voice cracked, Katsuki felt his heart shatter, how could they? Fuck how could HE have been this stupid.
"They used their quirks on me, and ripped my dress" Tears started to stream down the little girls face as she buried it into the chest of her father.
"You need to listen to me okay?" He moves her head to face him. "You are not useless, you are the smartest, funniest, most beautiful girl in the world. A quirk doesn't define you and in a few years those girls will realize that, but kids are stupid little brats" He wipes away the girls tears. "Tomorrow I'm going to that school and you're pointing out each girl, and we will all be having a talk with the principal and their irresponsible bad parents"
She whips her nose with her sleeve and the both go inside. He cleaned her up and slid her some ice cream before dinner.
Later that night
Katsuki and Izuku were getting ready for bed, they talked about everything that happened with the girls at school during diner, but Katsuki couldn't stop the guilt that rose.
"Izuku" The blonde spoke up from his side of the bed.
"Yeah?"
"Do you ever... Do you still... Are you..." He didn't know how to bring up the question.
"What's wrong Kacchan?"
"Do you still think about how I treated you when we were kids?" He pushed it out.
"You're feeling guilty because of what happened with Hanae at school?" Izuku scooted over and placed his hand on the others back.
"You didn't see how she came from Izuku, it was like they stole her light. Her dress, her pretty pink dress that she begged to wore is ruined. Fucking hell I can't even imagine how this will affect her confidence." Tears started to sting behind the blondes eyes. "And I did that to you for years and you forgave me each time. Why? You can't sit there and look me in the eyes with love after what I did. How could you have gotten up infront of our friends and family and say I do? God, how doesn't your mom hate me? How could she still invite me over and treat me like her own?" His voice got progressively louder as tears started to drizzle down his cheeks.
"If you want the honest truth Kacchan, I think about it all the time, but not in the way you think I do" He starts to rub circles in the back. "Of course you weren't the nicest to me, but you also made me work so much harder even if I was quirkless. Also you're a completely different person now and the fact you know how wrong it is shows how much you've changed, so that's why I was able to stand up infront of everyone and marry you, that's why I can sit here right now and say I love you"
"I'm a loser, ay?" Katsuki laughs through his tears.
"Yeah, but I like it" He brings the blondes head over to his chest.
the end
btw Hanae is a precious little baby and everyone who is mean to her has got to DIE (I just made this chick up mid writing this scenario but i'm gonna give her some quick details now)
Okay so she's 5 years old she has blonde wavy hair and giant green eyes with freckles (she literally looks like Izuku but with Katsuki's features sharp features. imagine Mitsuki with wavy hair, giant green eyes freckles basically) She is super duper kind and INSANELY smart for her age like to the point they thought it was her quirk (it's not but she's just awesome. I do think I might develop a quirk for her i the future mayhaps but idk how she'd aquire it like I could do sum like OFA or like something that causes an awakening) She does dance and several music lessons. She is also a model when Mitsuki makes clothing designs.
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