student!k.bakugo x spiderwoman!/student fem reader
background: you and bakugo have been dating for months now, most days have been easier than most but you both preserved through it all. until one day you discovered a new side within yourself, your life changed in such little time. you now fight to save japan remaining anonymous, everyday gets easier keeping both sides of yourself separated. but can you be able to salvage your relationship without honesty?
TWO. SOLO?
The streets were busy especially since it was a friday, you were zipping through with your webs as you took down the final criminal you came across for the night. even with eyes on you, it all went by so fast, you were swift with your movements that it came across as unpredictable to enemies.
you quickly moved to the wall as you jumped yourself into the air as you webbed the criminals into a webbed cocoon hanging from the streetlights. “what the fuc-“ before one of the men could finish their harsh words you zipped his mouth shut with your web, there was no doubt they were even more pissed but you didn’t care.
as soon as the police sirens became clearer you zipped out of the scene quickly, as the men’s grunts from your webbing became a distant memory. you quickly swinged into your apartment as you opened the window making it as your entrance, as soon as you layed down peace slowly turned into annoyance as vibrations came from your pockets.
your eyes widened a bit from seeing the police actively investigating whom was behind the recent detain, although you were fully on the side of justice you weren’t signed by the government which made you more cautious. “it’s fine i’ll just lay low a while use less webbing, i’ll still be out there but just silently.. carefully.” you tried your best to tell yourself comforting words to hopefully calm down your nerves but every word that spilled made your senses more alert than usual.
to get your mind off the news backlash, you decided to take a shower maybe the feeling of your body being lavished will smooth your senses, you made your way into the bathroom as you stripped yourself fully entering the shower. the feeling of the water washing down your back as you closed your tired eyes, the feeling as quickly interrupted as the water made its way to your fresh scars on your lower back. you hissed in pain as you shifted in the shower letting the water not aim towards your scars.
you turned the handle letting the water sink into the drain, as you zoned out for a moment. quickly brought yourself back to reality as you felt the lingering pain of your scars, you exited the shower letting your towels fully wrap your body, once you dried and quickly dressed you applied the overdue proper care for your injuries. “can’t let kats see this. if he finds this he will get suspicious..” you quickly bandaged yourself until your face grew pale from getting the notification from your phone. you picked up your phone once more as you saw texts from mina and kats, your gut told you everything you needed to know about what the conversations consisted of but you chose to walk in blind anyway.
you laughed a bit at mina’s texts, you expected this type of reaction fully from her considering how her imagination is beyond your comprehension. you still amused her for a while, letting her keep her conspiracies, whilst she was actually texting the “vigilante” herself. your face then shifted you swallowed the word “vigilante.” that was the opposite of where you stood whilst the internet was framing you as the enemy of justice, you heart sank down to your feet where japan now knows you as a vigilante rather than a hero. until you quickly picked yourself up to text katsuki preparing for his input with the recent news.
by the time it was midnight you were zipping around japan laying in the shadows, being paranoid of cameras flashing at you for sightings. luckily you were masked head to toe but it only made you more suspicious than not, as you roamed you noticed yet another robbery. you zipped into the scene as you crawled on the ceiling watching the robbers be completely unaware of your presence.
by the time they turned around with cash and jewelry in their arms you punched one of them in the face as one of them quickly grabbed you by the leg before you lounged yourself in the air, you let out a yelp from the sudden movement as you threw webs at his eyes, as the his duo picked up his pistol attempting to shoot you.
you flipped towards him as your hands quickly moved webbing his feet to the ground permanently whilst webbing the weapon to the ceiling. you watched as one of them struggled, fully being proud of yourself from a successful night until your body felt weak your eyes widened with you lost sense of balance. you hissed in pain as you placed your hand on your stomach only to be met with a shocking amount of blood, you fell on your knees as you applied pressure to your stomach as the blood continued to spread. you turned to see one of the criminals carrying a gun as he attempted to shoot another bullet only to not be able to shoot another considering that was his last and only shot.
you winced in pain “how unlucky am i this cannot be happening..i’m supposed to get home. i need to get back…home.” your body felt immense pain and pressure as your luck quickly became nonexistent from the cops arriving the scene. you cursed yourself as you forced yourself on your feet, drowning out the cops distant voices as you raised your hand to wip out of the scene with your web shooters, you suddenly winced upon the movement.
moments after cops flooded the area making their way to the scene, you cursed under your breath watching it all unfold, the cops aimed their gun towards you “freeze vigilante!” you turned around as you kept your hands up.
“have your hands up where we can see them!” you made your way slowly to the cops keeping your hands up in the process, until a man came over with glasses, he had green hair and yellow streaks on his hair. he made his way over ordering the cops to not aim weapons at you. “she’s with me. drop your weapons or face the consequences with my agency.” the officers nodded as they put their guns away, your expressed changed from worry to surprise and mix of confusion.
by the time the cops took the criminals you detained away, you successfully were able to patch up your wounds as they hurried you to the nearest hospital. despite their efforts of telling you to take off your mask, you declined every reason they came up with. now your laying in he hospital bed whilst the mystery man whom saved your ass is sitting near you, “my names Mirai Sasaki. it’s no coincidence we crossed paths.” he reached into his pocket as he picked up his business card placing it into your hand. “when you are ready contact me. we have lots to discuss spider woman.” as he got up and exited the room leaving you with many questions and little answers.
note: okay longer chapter today had an argument with my mom and new kitty but needed to get this out see you guys tmr or saturday 👀.
no matter how much you love him and he loves you, you’re stuck orbiting him.
his desire to be number one always comes first. it consumes him from the inside out, this need to be better, be the best. you think once he climbs those ranks, tooth and nail, and makes it to his coveted number one spot, he will finally love you the way you need.
instead, he stays unreachable, a figure you circle around constantly but never quite touch. he’s paranoid, and fighting to keep his spot may be worse than fighting to gain it. he sees everything and everyone as a threat, as a distraction.
you feel uncomfortable now, like you don’t know him anymore. you’re on alien ground. and he never touches down, never comes back to ground you. so you bite your tongue and steel your jaw, and decide that if you’re gonna lose him either way, it might as well be on your own terms.
you don’t think he even noticed when you leave, quietly slip out of his orbit.
hello everyone! this is my very first post and my first time writing fan-fiction i really hope you all enjoy as much as i enjoyed writing it! please feel free to comment or give me tips for all of this! i can’t wait to hear what you think 🩷 please be nice 🥺
The smell of smoke and ash clung to Katsuki’s hero costume long after he’d stripped it off, but it was the tension in his jaw that you noticed first.
You’d watched the joint training exercise from the observation deck. Watched him get countered — twice — by a third-year. Watched his explosions get neutralized mid-air by a quirk that absorbed kinetic energy and redistributed it. Watched Katsuki Bakugou, the most aggressively competent person you’d ever met, get benched on a technicality in the final round.
You knew the look on his face when he came through the common room door.
You should have let him go upstairs.
That was your first mistake.
“Hey.” You set down your textbook and pulled one leg up onto the couch, offering him the space beside you. “That third-year’s quirk was genuinely broken. You almost had him in the second round —”
“Don’t.”
The word landed flat. Clipped. A warning.
You heard it. You just didn’t listen.
“I’m just saying it wasn’t a skill issue, it was a matchup problem. Even Todoroki would’ve struggled with —”
“I said don’t.” He moved to the kitchen, yanking the refrigerator open with more force than necessary. “I don’t need you to explain what happened to me like I’m a child who needs consoling. I know what happened. I was there.”
You blinked. “I wasn’t explaining it to you, I was just —”
“You were coddling me.” He turned around, water bottle in hand, jaw tight. His eyes were the color of burning embers — red and furious and looking for somewhere to go. “Sitting there with that face like you feel sorry for me. I don’t want your pity.”
“It’s not pity, Katsuki, it’s called being supportive —”
“Supportive.” He laughed, and it was the ugliest sound you’d heard from him in months. Sharp. Humorless. “Right. Following me around. Watching my fights like you’re waiting for me to fall apart so you can swoop in. That’s not support. That’s babysitting.”
The word landed like a slap.
“Babysitting,” you repeated quietly.
“You hover. You always hover.” His voice was rising now, filling the kitchen, filling the space between you until there was nowhere for it to go except directly into you. “Like you don’t think I can handle my own life without you watching over my shoulder. I don’t need a keeper —”
“Then say that,” you said, and your voice cracked at the edges in a way you hated. “Say ‘I need space’ like a normal person instead of —”
“Instead of what?”
“Instead of tearing into me for caring about you!”
The silence that followed was brutal.
Katsuki’s expression didn’t soften. If anything it locked down harder — that wall slamming into place behind his eyes, the one he built when he felt too seen, too close to something real.
“Maybe,” he said. Very slowly. Very deliberately. Like he was choosing each word as a weapon and selecting the sharpest ones. “You should care about something that actually wants it.”
You stood there.
Just for a moment.
Long enough for that sentence to carve itself somewhere permanent. Long enough to feel it settle into your chest like something with weight and edges.
Then you picked up your textbook from the couch. Walked to the stairs. Kept your footsteps even.
“Goodnight, Katsuki.”
You didn’t slam your door. You didn’t cry in the hallway where anyone could hear.
You sat on the edge of your bed in the dark and pressed your palm flat to your sternum like pressure could stop the feeling of something quietly breaking.
Care about something that actually wants it.
You’d given him two years. Two years of learning his silences and his triggers and the specific way he needed to be loved — carefully, without hovering, without smothering, but consistently, always there. You’d learned when to push and when to step back and when to simply exist beside him without asking for anything in return.
And he’d taken all of it and sharpened it into something he could throw at you.
You sat in the dark for a long time.
Part Two: What Silence Builds
Three days.
That’s how long you waited.
You told yourself you were giving him space. That was true. You were also telling yourself that he would come to you — that he would knock on your door with that jaw tight and those eyes doing their complicated thing and say I shouldn’t have said that in the grudging, effortful way he said hard things.
He didn’t come.
Day one, you ate lunch at a different time. Day two, you took a different route to class. Day three, you stopped waiting entirely and texted Yuna instead.
Yuna was a support course third-year with an apartment off-campus and a friend group that laughed loudly and didn’t discuss hero rankings over dinner. She’d been trying to get you to come to her Friday nights for months.
I need to be somewhere that isn’t here, you texted.
Get over here, she texted back.
Her apartment smelled like candles and takeout and felt nothing like the dorms. Her friends were loud and easy and nobody looked at you like they were calculating anything. You sat on her couch and felt your shoulders come down from around your ears for the first time in three days.
Ren was Yuna’s friend from general studies. Quiet, dark-haired, with an easy smile that asked nothing from you. He refilled your drink without being asked and listened when you talked and laughed at the same moments you did, and being around him was effortless in the way that things were effortless when there was nothing at stake.
You went back the next Friday. And the one after that.
You told yourself it was just friendship. And it was — mostly. But there was something underneath it that you recognized and didn’t examine too closely.
The third Friday, you had too much wine and the conversation drifted close and Ren looked at you with a question in his eyes that was clear and uncomplicated.
You thought about Katsuki.
You thought about care about something that actually wants it.
You thought about twelve days of silence.
You made a choice.
It was the worst decision you’d made in two years, and you knew it approximately four minutes into making it. Not because of Ren — he was kind, he was careful, he checked in with you, and none of that was the problem.
The problem was that it wasn’t him.
You went home at 2 a.m.
You sat in the shower for a very long time.
Part Three: Kaminari’s Cousin
Katsuki heard it at 8 a.m. on a Tuesday.
He’d been managing. That was what he told himself — he was managing. Six-hour training sessions that left him too physically exhausted to think. Cold showers. Protein. Sleep that came eventually if he was tired enough.
And then Kaminari sat down at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal and said, in the carefully casual tone of someone who knew they were handling something volatile, “Hey, so. My cousin was at some apartment in the city last Friday… He saw you-know-who. With some guy from general studies. They left together around —”
The chair scraped back.
Katsuki stood in the middle of the kitchen with his jaw locked and something horrible twisting in his chest.
It was the feeling of something being taken.
Part Four: Livid
He didn’t go to the apartment.
He went to your door.
He knocked twice.
You opened it in sweats, textbook in hand, looking like a normal Tuesday evening. The normalcy of it infuriated him.
Then you saw his face and went very still.
“Katsuki —”
“Was it him.” His voice was dangerously controlled. “The general studies guy. Kaminari’s cousin saw you. Friday night. Was it him.”
“Yes.” Quiet. Steady. “Yes. It was.”
The silence was suffocating.
The argument spilled out between you — raw, ugly, and honest. All the hurt, the fear, the mistakes.
“I was trying to figure out how to fix it,” he said, voice rough.
“I didn’t need the right way,” you shot back, eyes burning. “I needed you.”
The tension snapped.
Katsuki surged forward, slamming the door shut so hard the frame rattled. He grabbed your wrist with bruising force and backed you against the wall, his other hand slamming into the plaster beside your head hard enough to crack it. His eyes were wild, body radiating heat. Real fear shot through you.
“Katsuki, you’re scaring me—”
“Good.” He pressed in closer, caging you in completely. “You should be scared. You think you can just give my pussy away and I’ll smile about it?” His hand left your wrist to fist tightly in your hair, yanking your head back. “After two fucking years?”
The confessions kept coming — jagged and desperate — but the jealousy burned hotter than everything else.
“I’m in love with you,” he growled against your mouth. “But right now I want to fucking ruin you for anyone else.”
You should have pushed him away.
Instead, you pulled him closer.
“Then do it.”
Katsuki lost it.
He ripped your sweatshirt off, the fabric tearing. Your sweats and panties were shoved down roughly and kicked aside. He freed his thick, heavy cock and spun you around, slamming your chest against the wall.
“You’re still dripping,” he hissed, dragging the head of his cock through your soaked folds before thrusting into you in one brutal, punishing stroke.
“Fuck—!” you cried out at the harsh stretch.
He didn’t wait. He fucked you hard and vicious, hips snapping with savage force. One hand stayed fisted in your hair, the other gripped your hip so tightly his fingers dug into your skin. The wet, filthy slap of his cock slamming into your cunt filled the room with every violent thrust.
“This what you needed?” he snarled in your ear, biting down hard on your shoulder. “Needed me to fuck that loser out of this sloppy pussy?”
“Yes—god—harder!”
He railed you mercilessly, balls slapping against your clit, cock driving so deep it bordered on pain. “Say it. Say whose cunt this is.”
“Yours—Katsuki—it’s yours—fuck!”
You came hard, walls spasming around him as your legs shook. He growled and kept pounding through it until he buried himself to the hilt and came with a guttural moan, flooding your pussy with thick, hot ropes of cum.
For a moment, only ragged breathing filled the room.
Then the rage cracked. He pulled out slowly, turned you around, and his expression shifted — the violence bleeding into raw regret as he saw your tears and the fresh marks on your skin.
“Shit…” His voice broke. He cupped your face with shaking hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. The thought of him touching you made me lose it.”
You kissed him, still trembling. “I know. I’m sorry too. It didn’t mean anything. It was always you.”
The anger drained away, replaced by aching love and need.
He walked you to the bed, laid you down gently, and pushed back inside you — slow and deep this time, eyes locked on yours the entire time.
“I love you,” he whispered, rolling his hips in a steady, intense rhythm. “I’m never letting you go again.”
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. This round was desperate but reverent — grinding, claiming, full of soft curses, apologies, and promises. You came again moaning his name, and he followed right after, filling you once more as he buried his face in your neck.
Afterward, he held you tight against his chest, stroking your hair.
bf! katsuki who realizes his relationship is being sabotaged ~ part 1 here
- a/n: do we still fuck with yandere fics? because i kinda wanna write more now that my schedule’s finally cleared up. honestly i kinda wanted to add more to this and maybe i will, i’m just not sure what direction to take it in
- bf! katsuki who’s finally starting to let his guard down and lets himself make friends that he can trust, so he would never expect one of his closest friends to betray him like this
- bf! katsuki who has trouble even talking to shoto because even though he can be aggressive and easily confrontational, he had just started to open up and shoto was one of the first people he finally trusted for real
- bf! katsuki who starts to notice patterns of getting into a fight with you after he hangs out with todoroki and midoriya, but no matter how hard he tries he can’t control his temper and falls into shoto’s traps almost every time
- bf! katsuki who can’t decide if he should avoid shoto or try to play his game
- bf! katsuki who has trouble expressing his emotions so he distances himself from you out of frustration even though he knows it’s not actually your fault
- bf! katsuki who hates how much he struggles with his temper, because how can he become number 1 when he can’t even lower his volume? but losing you is something worth getting upset about
- bf! katsuki who’s not sure if he should be on his best behavior or if you’re already cheating. but he doesn’t bring you into the loop because he doesn’t even know how to start a conversation like that
- bf! katsuki whose paranoia is starting to get out of hand, leaving him convinced that his other friends are in on it and are helping shoto sabotage his relationship so he distances himself from everyone until he can figure out what’s going on
- bf! katsuki who will be damned if he loses you to that icy hot bastard so he tries to bring up the idea of moving cities, pretending he just wants a change of scenery
- bf! katsuki who freaks out everytime you and shoto are in the same room but won’t tell you why, leading you to think he doesn’t trust you which only adds to the existing tension in your relationship
- bf! katsuki who finally lets some of his feelings spill when kirishima corners him and asks what’s up
- bf! katsuki who hates ultimatums and doesn’t want to give you one so he finally makes the choice to confront shoto
"DON'T go! Don't leave me—us!" you faintly heard your mom scream from the kitchen while you were in your playroom, fidgeting with your toys.
"It's too dangerous, the fight. You'll... you'll die!" her pleas grew louder. The last few words caught your attention, and you slowly stood up, curious and confused.
You crept toward the kitchen, peeking around the corner to make sure your presence wouldn't be noticed.
Your father's voice rang out, sharp and agitated—something that almost never happened. He was always so gentle.
"You know I have to. It's my job. I'm a pro-hero—I can't just walk away from that," he said, gripping your mother's trembling hands.
"Trust me, I know that. I was a pro once too—"
"But not anymore. I'm not like you. I can't just get pregnant and quit my life," he said louder, bitterness bleeding into his tone. He didn't mean it, but it was easier this way.
Your mother recoiled as if she'd been slapped. You froze too. Sure, you were young—and adults liked to think kids couldn't understand much—but you weren't stupid. You knew those words hurt. And somehow, they hurt you too.
"There's no way you're saying that to me right now. You knew I had to," your mother whispered as tears slipped down her cheeks. "Please, just... don't go. Don't leave me again. You know you can't come back from this. This is it."
"Yeah," your dad murmured, softer this time. "I know."
He turned and began gathering his things, heading toward the front door. Your mother followed like a shadow, frail and desperate.
And you? You followed too. You couldn't help it.
There was no way this would be the last time. He always came back. Always. You two had plans—to train your inherited quirk together, to go out, to just be.
He always promised. He never broke his promises. Everyone knew that.
"Dad!" you called out, running to him. "You'll be home for dinner, right? Like always!" You beamed up at him, holding out your hand for a high five.
He smiled gently. "Of course. Like always," he said.
But even at your age, you noticed something was different. His eyes looked far away—dull in a way that scared you. Still, he gave you that high five and held your hand just a second longer than usual.
"Go fight, Dad! Win like you always do! I'll be watching. See you later, promise?"
Your dad knelt down and pulled you into a tight hug. At the time, it felt just like any other hug.
But looking back now... he held you like it would be his last.
"Yeah, honey. I promise," he whispered into your ear.
Then he let go, kissed your mom goodbye, and walked out the door.
You grabbed your mother's hand and the two of you sat together in the living room, watching the live broadcast of the fight unfold in the city.
Forty agonizing minutes passed before your father finally appeared on screen.
Your breath caught in your throat. He looked terrible—wounds deep and raw, his face bruised and bloodied. You wanted to look away, but you couldn't. It was like you were glued in place.
You glanced at your mother. Her expression was stone cold.
Then, suddenly, the broadcast glitched. The screen cracked into static. A minute passed before it came back on—now fuzzier, the camera lens chipped and smudged with dust.
It was hard to make out at first... but then, you saw it.
Your father. On the ground.
Crushed beneath debris, his body unmoving. A pool of blood surrounding him like a halo of red.
You gasped. Your mother's grip on your hand went slack.
You looked up at her, eyes brimming with tears.
She stared at the screen, tears streaming silently down her face. But then she turned to look at you—and something in her gaze shifted. Cold. Bitter.
Hateful.
"Mom—" you whispered.
"I... I hate you," she muttered. "I hate you! He left because of your stupid encouragement! Your stupid promises! You were his fucking drive to be a pro-hero... to give you someone to look up to. He wanted to be outstanding for you always! He was going to stay... and you just had to come in like you always do! I hate you!"
You froze. Her words pierced like knives. And even now, they still echo in your mind.
Looking back, you understand she was grieving. That she couldn't accept the loss. But still... words hurt. Like cuts on your hands that never stop bleeding.
"But... Dad isn't—he's not—" you turned back to the screen, as if checking again would somehow change it. "He promised—"
"To hell with his promise!" she screamed. "He's dead! He's not coming back—and it's all your fault!" It wasn't, she knew that. At the time, you didn't.
You shook, hot tears blurring your vision.
"I... I didn't mean to—" you choked out, wiping at your face. But the tears kept falling. "He promised. He never breaks his promises."
Your mother let out a cruel, broken laugh. "You're such a naive kid. Daughter of two pro-heroes, with an amazing quirk, and yet you're still so dumb." A harsh scoff left her mouth. "Jokes on me, you only inherited my quirk, strong yet still disappointing on your father's end."
"Mom, please—" You reached out to her.
She slapped your hand away. "Don't touch me. I never had a choice. I never wanted you."
Even now, years later, the memory still haunts you.
You were just eight. You didn't know how deeply your words could cut. You were just a kid.
"Every mission he went on... it was for you," your mother sobbed. "Since the day you were born, it's been hell. He always talked about being a role model for you, about making you proud. He wanted to be the best... for you. Even when he thought about staying—for me—he always left in the end. And your encouragement, every single time... I hated it. I hated you."
"I didn't mean to! I didn't know—" you cried. "I love Dad! I would never want to hurt him!"
"Yeah? Well, he's dead now," she said, barely above a whisper.
Days passed before you returned to school. When you did, everyone already knew. They stared. Whispered. The teachers looked at you like a wounded puppy.
Bakugou walked over to you.
"I... uh... saw what happened." He rubbed the back of his neck. "My mom said you can come over. Not too often, though. Just... if you need to."
He turned away to hide the embarrassment in his cheeks. "Your dad... he was a cool and strong hero..."
You nodded as a thank you. You knew he didn't mean it harshly. That was just how Bakugou was. Loud. Blunt. But you'd known him since kindergarten, since your quirks first showed up.
Bakugou was your escape. When your mother grew colder, when the house got too quiet, too heavy, you ran to him. You talked his ear off about everything, even if it didn't change a thing. Looking back, you probably overshared. But what could you have done? You didn't have your dad anymore. Barely had your mother either. And he... listened. You think.
Your friendship with him was confusing to others. Bakugou wasn't close to many people. But you didn't need the labels. You just knew. That was enough. To you, he was your best friend. And to him, the same. You think? There was always this unspoken thing between the two of you. Neither one of you ever brought it up, if anything you pushed it further down.
You admired him. Deeply. He was strong—undeniably. Everyone knew it. He knew it. And you wanted to be strong too.
That admiration twisted into something else over the years. At first, you thought it was just that: admiration. But by the start of middle school, you realized it wasn't. Not entirely.
You had feelings for him. That thing you pushed down? Yeah, couldn't stay buried forever.
While those feelings grew, your relationship with your mother crumbled—slowly, painfully. She met your basic needs, but that was it. You two simply... existed in the same house. Cold. Hollow.
Your little was born seven months after your dad's death.
That's when you truly understood.
Your mom blamed you. She always had. And now, it was all your fault again. Your sister would grow up without a dad—your fault. Your mom had to raise you both alone—your fault. And it all got worse when your little sister had developed only your mother's quirk. For some reason, the relationship between you and your mother almost completely broke off.
As their five-year anniversary nears, Eijirou finds himself thinking about the future. Do they want children? How are they going to deal with the in-laws?
But just as his best friend grapples with the problems a long-term relationship brings, Katsuki fights the fight of a single man in his twenties, wanting nothing more than to settle down, yet feeling unable to do so.
This story follows both their paths.
Many thanks to my Beta-Readers: @haikyu-mp4 and @theferretkids
part 6 - Masterlist
You
You’re chewing on your nails, the page in front of you staying terrifingly blank.
Every few minutes you get up from your chair, pour yourself a fresh glass of water, go pee, or give your fish a snack.
But you always return to the same thing. A piece of paper, blank.
“I’m home!” Eijirou calls out from the front door at some point, shocking you back to reality. “Already?”
He blinks back at you, halfway out of his jacket. “It’s half-past six, are you okay?”
“Half-past six?” You stare at the clock at the wall. “No way.”
“What’s going on?” He walks over, smelling like outside as he pulls you in for a kiss. “You seem frazzled. Did something happen?”
“I sat down at two to write this letter to Nori and I have-” you point at the still blank paper, “nothing!”
“Oh, sweetie,” he pulls you in tighter until you’re practically glued to him. “This is stressing you out, I can tell.”
“Can I just not tell her?” You ask, face pressed into his side. “You can deal with her much better.”
“I’d love to say yes, but I think we both know that’s not you. What’s so different about Nori than your Mom?”
You hesitate. Suddenly, touching Eijirou becomes almost unbearable. You slip out of his grasp and out of the room altogether, aiming for the laundry room where you find the dryer almost done with its task.
“Baby?” Eijirou follows you slowly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine, totally fine,” you don’t look at him, careful to keep your eyes on the numbers counting down. “The dryer is almost done.”
You can hear him drop against the doorframe, can see his red hair from the corner of your eye.
“Talk to me?” He asks, his voice soft. “Please?”
“I don’t want to,” you admit quietly, fiddling with your hands. “Cause… You’re gonna be disappointed.”
“I’d never.”
“You say that,” you argue, “but I know you were disappointed in me before. Like that one time I messed up recording Crimson Riot’s speech on TV? Or our first vacation when I fell asleep under water and missed your special dinner surprise?”
“Yeah, but I love you,” Eijirou argues back, his voice still soft, his arms reaching for you. “And you love me. That’s what matters.”
“But I didn’t actually go no contact with Mom. I didn’t do it properly,” you admit, hoping that the beeping of the dryer will cover most of your tracks. “She started ignoring me because of something, so I ignored her back and then, when she was busy ignoring me, I blocked her number, and I just never got back to her or anything. I didn’t actually tell her why I was blocking her and now I’m supposed to do it with Nori and I’m so scared-” you break off, swallow thickly against the truth that has exposed itself. “I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Do you want to do it?”
“No,” you say. “Please don’t make me.”
You feel small, tiny even. Unworthy of being married to Eijirou of all people.
“Hey,” his arms curl around you, slowly, as if waiting for you to push him away again. “I love you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“But I do,” he promises, presses his cheek against yours. “I really, really do. No take-backsies.”
You snort at the word, feeling lighter already. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Eijirou lifts you with ease, swaying you a little for dramatic effect as he walks down the hallway with you.
“You,” he drops you on your bed, “will stay here. I need five minutes.”
“But-”
“Five minutes,” he promises, pointer finger lifted, “Go pee if you need to spend that time doing something.”
“Go pee?”
“Yeah,” he calls back from the hallway, “You better, actually. I won’t let you get up for a few hours.”
-
When you return to the bedroom, your bed is covered in pillows from the living room and guest rooms. You sink down onto them, just in time for Eijirou to come back with the blankets you put in the dryer earlier, dropping them onto you.
“Cuddle session is in order,” Eijirou decides, climbing in after you and pulling you under the warm blankets. “I’ll order us food in a minute.”
“Fine,” you pull on his shirt and wriggle under, the fabric stretching uncomfortably over your antenna, though his warmth is making up for it. “And we don’t talk.”
“No, we do talk,” Eijirou kisses the top of your head. “I realize my plan might not have been the best, especially if you’re not ready for it, but if we’re going to have a baby, we need to talk about it.”
“Today?”
“Do you want to do it tomorrow?”
“No,” you admit after a while. “I don’t want to do it ever.”
Eijirou sighs and stays quiet for a while, so that the only thing you hear is the beating of his heart beneath your cheek.
You think of your future baby, the imagine so vivid in your mind. A little boy, with Kirishima’s Quirk, or maybe a little girl?
“What if we still reduced your time with Nori?” Eijirou offers at some point and you pull your head out from under his shirt to snuggle into his side.
He’s still here, despite your cowardness. He’s still here. With you.
“I’d like that,” you admit, reaching for his hand, your fluttery heart settling down when he grasps it, squeezing it three times. “I hate that she always asks me if I’m being pregnant.”
“I told Mom that we’re going to try,” Eijirou admits into the quiet, moving his head until it sits on top of yours. “She started crying halfway through. Teruo thought something bad happened.”
“What if I can’t get pregnant?”
You can hear his breath hitch, and then he’s pulling you in, his hold a little too strong to be still considered comfortable.
“Nori’s going to point it out,” you add, your tongue loosening now of all times. “That I’m heteromorph and you’re not. Maybe it would be better if we adopted or-” Eijirou’s teeth cut through the soft skin on your earlobe, the pain just sharp enough to shut you up for the second he needs to speak. “We’re going to have as many children as we need to get one with your Quirk. Do you hear me?”
“Loud and clear, boss.”
“Don’t call me boss,” Eijirou hides his face in your hair, the momentum lost. “That’s weird.”
“You bit me, that’s not weird?”
“You bite me all the time!”
“Yeah, because I don’t have shark teeth.”
He moves, both hands curling around your cheeks, his temple resting against yours. “We’re going to have a kid with your Quirk. As heteromorph as it could possibly be, because if we get the antenna without the gills, I’m gonna be mad.”
“What if that’s our first? Would you let me miss out on a mini-you?”
“They’re not gonna have red hair, you know.”
“Hm,” you reach up to mess his hair up. “I’m sure we can find a way to dye it, right?”
-
“Papa?” You look up to him, his tall figure blocking the sun, his antenna wriggling in the breeze. “Do we look funny?”
“Funny?” He stops and picks you up, hoists you onto his hip despite Mama telling you that you’ve long grown out of it. “Why’s that, pumpkin?”
“Nori said so,” you point out, before reaching up to tug on his antenna. His are the palest grey with dark, curious spots, and you love the way the spots seem to move with him. “She called me a transmission tower.”
“That’s because she doesn’t appreciate aquatic life, like we do.” Papa explains calmly. “You know she and Mama have a different Quirk. Every single one of us is different. But none of us are wrong. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah,” you lean your head against his shoulder and watch the waves lap at the shore. “Do you think I’m pretty?”
“The prettiest.”
“Mama said-”
“I know,” Papa interrupts you. “I know, Mama is not always nice. She means well, I’m sure, but she’s never lived in the water. She’s a creature of the land. Sometimes it’s hard for people to see the beauty in the things they don’t know.”
It’s hard to follow the meaning of his words, especially when they come this fast, one after the other. But you know, Papa is smart. He’s always saying the right thing.
Quietly, you walk into the surf together, the cool water kissing your toes, your ankles, your knees, until you’re both fully submerged, blowing bubbles at each other and hunting the tiny silver fish that dare to cross your path.
“Now, are you still hungry, pumpkin?” Papa asks on the way back to the car, carrying you on his shoulder. “After all those fish I saw you eat?”
“Can we have noodles?” You ask, pulling on his hair, hugging his warmth, trying to meld with the emotion that still lingers.
“Oh, you mean a hot worm salad? Of course, everything for Princess Pumpkin.”
-
Katsuki
The giant clock mounted on the top of Shouto’s agency reads 2:21 am, the red numbers seemingly glaring down at him. He huffs, and flicks his middle finger at it as he opens his phone for the fifth time tonight.
He’s been on edge ever since he’s started his shift, or maybe even before that. It doesn’t help that there’s nothing going on. No one to blow up, no one to kick in the face.
God, if only he could start a fight.
-
It had been nice, spending time with Ume. Nice. He growls.
At some point he’d completely forgotten about the phrase date hanging above his head, had laughed about her jokes and reminisced about the past. Had threatened to blow her through the wall when she tried to split the check with him. And had absolutely fumbled the goodbyes when she went in for what looked like a hug and he kissed her cheek on accident, tripping over a terribly placed chair in his haste to back away.
He’d never leave a woman behind, so he didn’t, but his hand sparked the whole drive back, the car smelling of melting leather and embarrassed silence.
She told him to have a good day and he could barely manage a gruff response.
-
His phone pings with an incoming message, a terrible instagram reel from Kaminari that makes him crack a smile. He hits send and decides in the flicker of a second between you or Eijirou, knowing full well the other is going to see it anyway..
His phone pings again seconds later, and he furrows his brows in surprise at your quick response.
“Why are you up?” He barks into his phone, your number on short dial. “It’s two in the morning.”
“I just woke up,” you yawn. “Why are you up?”
“Night shift.”
“Ah,” he can hear you shifting in bed, the low sound of Eijirou’s snoring. “And you went for the phone?”
“Yeah,” there’s something in your voice that he doesn’t like, but the silence that follows tells him you’re not going to give in easily.
He knocks his heels against the concrete walls, glares back at the bright red numbers across the street.
“I was on a date today,” Katsuki admits then, hands sweating. “T’was terrible.”
“Yeah? Why?”
“Fumbled it.”
“How?”
He rubs one hand over his thigh, knocks his heels into the concrete, listens to the whistling of the wind around him. “I think I got scared.”
Katsuki waits for the things he fears the most. The laughter, the condescension. He waits for you to realize that he’s not as great as everyone seems to think he is.
But you’re his best friend for a reason, the little sister he never knew he needed.
“Sucks to be us,” you say instead. “I hate being scared.”
He laughs gruffly. “Don’t tell me. What are you even scared off? You regularly cut off your own limbs.”
“Nori.”
“Ah,” he nods, even though you can’t see him. “Yeah, I get that. She’s your kryptonite.”
They stay quiet for a while. It’s easier to endure the silence when there’s someone to share it with.
“I gotta pee,” you mumble eventually, the bedding rustling as you move. There’s the faint sound of Eijirou’s voice, slurred words Katsuki can barely understand, followed by a jaw-cracking yawn.
“Katsuki?” Eijirou asks, voice thick with sleep. “What time is it?”
“Not quite three in the morning.”
“Couldn’t sleep?”
“Nah, boring night shift.”
“Ah,” shuffling, a sigh. “Did the missus tell you that she’s scared?”
“Yeah,” Katsuki sighs. “Me too, to be honest. We can’t all be as courageous as you.”
Eijirou laughs. “I wouldn’t call myself courageous. I’m scared so often, you don’t wanna know.”
“You’re scared?” He can hear your voice in the background, faint, then clearer, as Eijirou puts him on speaker. “What are you scared of?”
“My friends getting hurt,” Eijirou admits. “I hate it when you do storm shifts.”
“But I can heal myself,” you reply, your words lost to Katsuki as he remembers the past. Eijirou, at his doorstep, terrified he’s not going to be able to stomach a relationship like this, one where he might wake up to a life without you any day of the week.
“How did you get over it?” Katsuki asks, wondering a little if Eijirou remembers it, too. They never talked about it again, not with him proposing the day after, but Katsuki has never quite let go of that fear. After all, he spends his days worrying about his friends, still.
“I haven’t,” Eijirou admits. “I just try to not let it stop me. To make the best of the time we have. I’d rather die courageously than live like a coward.”
“Don’t die,” you mutter, but Katsuki isn’t listening anymore, his heart squeezing. “I gotta hang up,” he says, your goodbyes lost on him as he ends the call and pulls up a different number.
Ume doesn’t pick up the call. He’s glad she doesn’t.
His voice wavers as he speaks, catches a little at her name until he finds himself.
“Hey,” he breathes out once more, feels the fear settle in his gut like a beast settling in for a nap. “I’m pretty sure you knew I had a thing for you, back then. I didn’t act upon it, because it wasn’t the right time, but I think it could be, now. Let’s talk about it some more, yeah?” Katsuki swallows. There’s a real chance she has no interest in him, whatsoever, but he wants to believe that’s not the case. “It’s good to have you back.”
-
You
You wake up early, your muscles itching for you to move after so much time spent in bed.
Eijirou’s still snoring and you drop a kiss on his nose as you slip out of the bedroom, wandering the hallway as you start a voice memo.
“I thought about sending you a letter,” you say, staring at your wedding picture on the wall as you pass it, “but I want you to hear my voice when I say it. I want you to understand me. You are my sister, and my family, but I am not letting you treat me like that anymore. I love Seiichi and I love spending time with him and helping out, but I don’t work for you.” You take a deep breath. “From now on, I’m cutting contact with you until you apologize. I might be Heteromorph, but we share the same blood. Acknowledge it, or leave it.”
You swallow thickly as you press send. It’s not perfect, probably far from it, but it’s the best you could do and you’re proud of standing up for yourself.
Fear seizes you still.
Your phone sits heavy in your hand as you mute your sisters contact, not quite able to deal with a response of her. Not yet. You archive the chat, too, just so you can breathe a little easier. And then you realize you should have called Seiichi’s Dad first, to let him know.
“Fuck,” you hiss, pulling up the contact. “Please don’t backfire,” you whisper to yourself as you wait for the call to connect.
- - -
“Aunty!” Kaminari Ken runs into your arms, squealing when you lift him with ease. “Do you have sweets for me?”
You laugh heartily at this. “No, sorry Ken,” you boop his nose with your own and let him down onto the floor again. “Where’s your Dad?”
“Daddy is dying,” Ken explains carelessly, spotting Eijirou coming through the door. “Uncle!” He stretches, arms up high and Eijirou picks him up as well, cuddling him close. “Do you have sweets for me?” He asks and Eijirou laughs, swaying him back and forth.
“Ken says Denks is dying,” you point out and Eijirou perks up, looking around. “Weights,” he spots Denki first and you sigh. “Course. Say, do you want to go and help your Dad with the weights?”
“Nah,” Ken shakes his head. “I want to say Hi to everyone who comes in.”
“You just want sweets,” Eijirou corrects him, squeezing him tight. “You’re coming with me to the changing rooms. I’m sure Sato has some cookies on him.”
“YAY!”
You roll your eyes fondly after them, taking a short detour through the gym to save Denki before you go and change as well.
He’s red in the face, groaning under the weight. You snort as you help him lift it.
“Hey!” Denki complains, eyeing you. “I was handling that.”
“Barely. You’re going to be dead tomorrow.”
“Maybe,” Denki grins cheekily. “But my wife is very sympathetic when I can’t move after a workout.”
“Ugh,” you drop the weights again. “Nevermind.”
“What?” Denki calls after you, but you ignore him this time in favor of slipping into your workout clothes.
Miracle Gym isn’t too far from your place, but coming here more often than once a week doesn’t make much sense considering the home gym Eijirou is slowly building and perfecting.
You wouldn’t have minded staying home today, running from your worries on the treadmill instead of facing your friends. But Wednesday mornings are usually spent at Miracle Gym as long as you don’t have a shift that’s keeping you or an injury.
Two girls are getting changed as you walk in, whispering at your sight. You try to ignore them, go straight for the cubicles to store away your stuff, when one of them approaches you.
“Excuse me,” she asks, her whiskers twitching nervously. “Are you… Are you Rescue Hero: Aquetzalli, by any chance?”
“I am,” you answer, a little surprised by the fact that they’re not butchering the pronunciation, as usual. “Why?”
“We heard, uh,” Whiskers looks at her friend for help, before turning back to you. “We heard you’re training here. We wanted to ask for advice.”
“Oh?” You look her up and down. She’s got strong arms, that much is clear, her hands curled into fists by her side. You wonder if she’s got claws, too. “About what? Strength training? Work?”
Whiskers nods. Looks at her friend again. Finally, she turns to pull her forward. Long, dark hair falls away to show an elongated face ending in a horse-like muzzle. Her lips pull into a smile that’s both wide and awkward. “What’s it like?” She asks, her voice deep, “to be a heteromoprh Hero?”
Your Antenna twitch. You wish you could say it’s the same no matter the Quirk, but that wouldn’t be honest.
You sigh. “Depends on the day,” you admit. “You’re here to train?”
Both of them nod and you push your shoulders back. “Great. I’ll introduce you to a few people then. What year are you in?”
“We’re in our first year,” Whiskers explains, introducing herself as Chinatsu. “But we didn’t make a great impression during the Sports Festival, so we wanted to start early looking for internships.”
“Smart,” you nod, finally putting your stuff away. “Give me a second and we’re good to go.”
EAR BUDS: BAKUGO X JAB (OC) TW!, post first death of Jab, Swearing, song its based on is: It's Ironic The Way That You Leave By Jvke
"It's ironic the way that you leave."
Jab was sitting in her dorm room, playing Dandys World on her phone well listening to some music in her ear buds. When all of a sudden the door opened.
(Jab Pov)
I was playing Dandys World, but then I heard my door swing open. I paused my song, took out my ear bud and looked towards the door. It was Bakugo. "Hey." I say looking back at my phone. "Tch. Have you been on that all day?" "So what if I have." "Get off then." "No." "Turn it off. Your never going to become a hero if all you ever do is play video games." "Make me." I mumble. "Hah? What did you day?" "I said, Make me." Bakugo reaches for my phone and snatches it out of my hand, I gasp,
"HEY! GIVE ME MY PHONE BACK! I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A RUN I NEED TO COMPLETE GOOB MASTERY!" "Not anymore. You wouldn't get off you phone. So I made you." He smirks. "Brooo your genuinely so annoying." "Tch. Whatever." Bakugo tossed my phone at me before sitting on the floor. "Wait- so why did you come here?" "You didn't come out of your room today, and I was bored." "Oh." Is all I can say. 'Did... did he care?' "So...Do you wanna play a game? We could play Peak, or Deadly Delivery, Or maybe even Grow A Garden-" "No." "No?" "No." "What do you wanna do then." "Tch. I don't know." "Uhh. You- could watch me play if you want- I know it's not entertaining but I lowkey wanna play something on Roblox." "Could I barrow your ear bud while I watch?" "Huh?" "You heard me damn it. Pass me an ear bud."
I pass him the ear bud lowkey bewildered that he wanted to listen to music on my ear buds ever since the bus incident. He didn't talk to me for three days after it last time. He puts it in his ear and I un-pause the song. The start of the song played and I immediately knew the song was 'This is what autumn feels like' As soon as it started playing I knew I was about to get judged, but instead of sitting there awkwardly this time I just joined a Niche Barista Game on Roblox. Then the lyrics started. "What are you playing?" Bakugo asks. "Niche Barista Game." "That sounds du-" But Bakugo cut himself off when the lyrics started, "Love is a walk in the park, that's how I feel at the start, pretty until it gets dark, Love is a walk in the park, till you get bit by a dog, I never knew you could bark . . . When the seasons change you won't feel the same at all.Because summer will turn into Fall, then you'll leave me, you're gone, You don't need me at all, like the trees in the autumn breeze. Its ironic the way that you leave."
During the instrumental part in-between the chorus and the next set of lyrics Bakugo went dead silent. He was focused, watching me make drinks in the game- a little to focused, like he wasn't even actually paying attention- like what I do in class when Mr. Aizawa's going on a yapping spree. Bakugo then glanced at me- not a long glance but enough for me to notice. Then the lyrics started again. "Love is like ridin' a bike, scary, but then it's alright, I got the hang of it, right? (No) 'Til you start moving to fast, look up, then you're 'bout to crash, why doesn't love ever last? So call me a pessimist, I think I'm a realist livin a lie.Every night that I hold you inside of these arms, knowing to well you'll move on, as soon as the warm weather is gone. When the seasons change you won't feel the same at all. Because summer will turn into Fall, then you'll leave me, you're gone, You don't need me at all. Like the trees in the autumn breeze. It's ironic the way that you leave. Ooh, ah, ooh, ah. Like The Trees In The Autumn Breeze. It's Ironic The Way That You Leave."
Bakugo sat there for a second in silence still staring at my screen, before standing up. I think it was uncomfortable for him. I'm not sure why but I feel like it had something to do with my death. "Where are you going?" I asked. "I'm tired, I'm going to bed." "Are you uncomfortable?" "Hah?" "You seem agitated." "I don't want to talk about this right now." "Wow." "What?" "It really is Ironic The Way That You Leave." I blurt out.
He stands there for a second, before letting out a, "Tch." Putting my ear bud on the floor, then proceeding to storm out of my room, leaving.
