timeskip!izuku absolutely loses his mind when you visit him at work, showing you off to his students, attacking you with kisses, & gushing to them about how he met you during his time at UA.
timeskip!izuku loves his wife & talks so much that his students know your birthday & all pitched in to get 'Mrs. Midoriya' a gift that made both you and Izuku tear up.
timeskip!izuku comes home to you tired each day but happily sits with you at the kitchen table, grading papers while you make dinner. Humming in response while you tell him about your day
timeskip!izuku is to no surprise, the best dad ever; he treats your kids like little angels, spoiling them the best he can—never letting them feel different or less than for being quirkless.
timeskip!izuku cuddles up next to his wife each night, whispering sweet nothings, brushes fingers through your hair & pulls you flush against him under the soft sheets
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); Pro/Teacher!Deku (Late 20s-Early 30s); BF!Deku x GF!Reader; Sneaky Sex; Public Sex/Sex in Classroom; Nudes/Sex Videos; Masturbation; Pervy!Deku; Teacher x Student Roleplay; Deku Is Actually Obsessed With You
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: I've been on a MAJOR Deku wave lately. He's always been fucking hot but him as an adult AND a teacher/pro hero is making me wetter than wet. I have about 3 different fics all dedicated to Deku in my drafts rn lol. He's my weekly hyperfixation teehee ENJOY!! -Jazz
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Thinking extremely, increasingly, hornily hard about Teacher!Deku aka "Midoriya-Sensei" ask known to and affectionally called by his adoring students...and by you, his adoring, adorable girlfriend.
Teacher!Deku who, at 25 years old, was initially nervous about becoming a teacher at U.A. High but quickly realized how easy and fulfilling the job was when he got his first class his first year of teaching.
Teacher!Deku who had become a significant part of U.A. High years later and decided to juggle teaching children how to be a great hero while also being a great hero out in the streets, fulfilling his lifelong dream.
Teacher!Deku who loved each and every one of his students, knew all of them by first and last name, and still kept his little notebook where he wrote down each of his students' quirks in an effort to understand and better help them.
Teacher!Deku who also loved how you, his pretty pro hero girlfriend, loved all of his students too and often took you with him to sit in on lectures because you loved watching him teach.
Teacher!Deku who blushed as red as a tomato when he introduced you to his kids for the first time to which he was bombarded with praise for being able to scoop you up: "Wow, Midoriya-Sensei, H/N is your girlfriend?!" "She's so pretty, Midoriya-Sensei!" "You got all the rizz, Midoriya-Sensei!"
Teacher!Deku who loved when you came to his classes dressed in your hero gear and often felt himself become distracted by the way the suit filled out your curves, hugged your waist, and framed your hips and ass in a way that had him coughing and blushing all throughout his lectures, passing it off as allergies or choking on his coffee while you giggled at the back of the glass.
Teacher!Deku who wore his dapper blazers, ties, and crisp button-downs with the sleeves rolled up to show off his veins and the intricate burn scars roping up and down his arms because he knew how hot it made you to see him in his teacher uniform.
Teacher!Deku who sometimes showed up later than he intended to work because he was too busy getting a morning quickie in before he left, fucking you over the edge of the bed, his lips sucking on your pretty toes as his cock hung over the open fly of his slacks, leaking and spurting his cum into your warm, wet, gorgeous pussy.
Teacher!Deku who got turned on when you fixed him his lunch and morning coffee to take to work, using that as a excuse to bend you over the counter in your bathrobe and fuck you dumb, trying to make you his "pretty lil' housewife" as he whispered in your ear as he drilled your pussy so good that you whimpered and moaned gripping the edge of the counter.
Teacher!Deku who came home from work in the evening haggard and exhausted, his tie loose and his brain fried, but not enough to not have time to fuck his pretty girlfriend into the mattress, taking out any and every kind of stress from the day on your pussy and your delectable ass, spanking it and watching it bounce as he pumped his cock in and out of your dripping pussy.
Teacher!Deku who loved how willing you were to fuck him whenever he got home, pushing away all of your activities and responsibilities for the night to take him into your arms and into your heavenly, soft titties, letting him lay and grab and suck on them, using them to fuck on, his cock sliding in between them soaked in his saliva as he murmured, "I missed my girls s'much. Can't fuckin' function without 'em, baby, I swear."
Teacher!Deku who became somewhat of a sex addict and a exhibitionist when it came to you, loving when you visited him with a surprise bento lunch just so he could fuck you during his lunch break over his desk, pounding your pussy so hard and fast that the desk rocks.
"D-Deku!" you'd whine, clutching his desk for dear life as you dripped and slid all over his dick and heavy balls, his muscular thighs pressed flush against your ass peeking out of your dress hiked up over your thighs. "We've gotta keep quiet! Someone could come in and see!"
"No, no, baby," he'd chuckle, covering your mouth with his big hand as he palmed your ass with the other, sweat trickling down into the collar of his shirt. "You need to keep quiet. You're moanin' so loud f'me that someone will hear."
He'd then lean down, his lips pressed against your ear as his cock slid in and out of you, bringing you closer to the brink of a dirty orgasm in his classroom. "Or is that what my baby wants?" he'd teasingly murmur. "Ya want my students or my peers to come in here and see my slutty girlfriend bent over my desk?"
Teacher!Deku who was addicted to you like caffeine in coffee, loving it when you visited him during his breaks in cropped white tops tied at the midriff, stockings and garter belts, and slutty school girls that barely covered your lace thongs underneath, hard as a rock whenever you'd come up to him and softly ask with a bat of your lashes, "Midoriya-Sensei, I got a C on my last test. Is there anything I could do to bring my grade back up pretty please?"
Teacher!Deku who'd send you nudes from his desk, his tie loosened, abs exposed, and hard cock out, having in chub against his slacks when he thought about you during class, often having to hide behind his desk to hide his raging boner.
Who went to the bathroom or a closet somewhere to jack off to the thought of you, his phone picking up his moans as he spurted his spunk all over his hand for you, wishing that it was your pussy, ass, tits, or pretty face that he was cumming on instead. "Just wait till I get home," he'd chuckle, sucking his cum off of his fingers in the video.
Teacher!Deku who started calling you just to get you at school to fuck, pulling you aside behind corners, into bathrooms and broom closets, just to get his hard dick in your throat or in your pretty, sloppy little pussy, addicted to sneaky sex with his beautiful girl because it helped him "focus" for the rest of the day.
Teacher!Deku who realized you were a better pick-me-up than a cup of coffee and considered you the reason he was such a good teacher. But wouldn't good pussy from a pretty girl like you perk you up too?
Synopsis: izuku doesnt like to share you
Warning: heavily suggestive content towards to end, protective!izuku, fem!reader, flirting, established relationship
WC: 2304
The party had started easily enough.
Soft lighting. Music low but present. Too many heroes in one apartment, shoes kicked near the door, jackets thrown over chairs like no one there worried about public image.
Izuku had introduced you the way he always did.
Not as an accessory.
Not as a secret.
Just with quiet pride.
“This is her.”
And when someone teased, “Midoriya finally bringing someone around, huh?” he didn’t laugh it off.
He’d simply looked at you.
“Yes.”
The way he said it had made heat rise to your cheeks.
He stayed near you at first, hand resting at your lower back, thumb brushing idle circles when conversations shifted too quickly or voices got too loud.
He never hovered.
He anchored.
And you loved that about him.
But as the night wore on, the conversations drifted into more tactical territory. Agency budgets. Patrol rotations. New interns. Hero licensing reforms.
You didn’t want to cling to his sleeve while he talked shop.
So when he got pulled into a deeper discussion near the balcony, you slipped quietly toward the kitchen.
Water.
Just water.
You didn’t notice him glance after you.
You didn’t notice how his gaze tracked you automatically until you were out of his direct line of sight.
You only noticed when someone spoke beside you.
“Hey.”
You turned.
It took a second to recognize him — one of the newer sidekicks from Izuku’s extended agency network. You’d been introduced earlier, but only briefly.
“You’re Midoriya’s girlfriend, right?”
“Yes,” you said softly.
He leaned against the counter casually. “Didn’t expect him to date someone so… civilian.”
The wording made you pause.
“That’s not an insult,” he added quickly. “It’s just — most pros date other pros. Easier that way.”
“Oh.”
He studied you for a moment.
“You don’t seem like you’d enjoy parties like this.”
“I don’t mind them.”
“You look like you mind.”
You gave a small, polite smile.
“I’m fine.”
He stepped slightly closer, voice lowering.
“You know, people talk about him like he’s untouchable.”
Your fingers tightened around your glass.
“What do you mean?”
“Like he’s too disciplined. Too composed. Doesn’t slip up.”
You didn’t respond.
The sidekick’s gaze lingered a second too long.
“I’m surprised he leaves you alone in a room like this.”
You shifted subtly.
“I’m not alone.”
“He’s across the apartment.”
“That’s not the same as alone.”
He laughed softly.
“You’re loyal.”
The tone was different now.
Less teasing.
More probing.
“I just know where I stand,” you replied.
“And where’s that?”
You didn’t like the way he asked that.
Before you could answer, he leaned slightly closer.
“Does he get jealous?”
The question landed heavier this time.
“No.”
“Really?”
His eyes flicked toward the living room.
“Because if I were him, I wouldn’t let anyone stand this close to you.”
Your pulse jumped.
“I think you should step back.”
The words came out softer than you intended.
He didn’t move.
Instead, he tilted his head.
“You don’t sound very sure.”
That was the moment Izuku saw it.
Across the room, mid-sentence, he noticed your posture change.
Shoulders tightening.
Chin dipping.
The polite smile that didn’t reach your eyes.
He didn’t react immediately.
He watched.
Measured.
But when the sidekick’s hand came to rest on the counter beside yours — close enough to box you in slightly — and his hand gliding to your waist,
Izuku moved.
He crossed the room without rushing.
Without calling attention.
He stopped directly behind you.
Close enough that you felt him before you saw him.
His hand settled at your waist.
Firm.
Claiming space.
“She asked you to step back.”
His voice was calm.
Level.
The sidekick stiffened.
“Oh. Midoriya. We were just talking.”
Izuku’s thumb pressed slightly into your side.
“I heard.”
The sidekick smiled awkwardly. “Didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I’m sure.”
The words were polite.
But there was steel beneath them.
Silence stretched.
Then the sidekick tried to laugh it off.
“Relax. I wasn’t going to steal her.”
Izuku’s jaw tightened.
“I wasn't worried”
The room didn’t notice.
But the air between the three of you changed.
The sidekick held Izuku’s gaze for a second too long.
Testing.
“You’re pretty territorial for someone so composed.”
Izuku didn’t blink.
“I don’t share.”
The words weren’t loud.
They weren’t angry.
They were fact.
The sidekick swallowed.
And stepped back.
“Right. Message received.”
He left.
Izuku didn’t look away from you immediately.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“You told him to step back.”
“Yes.”
“And he didn’t.”
A beat.
“No.”
His hand slid from your waist to lace with your fingers.
“Then I step in.”
The car door shuts with a heavier sound than it needs to.
Izuku doesn’t slam it. He doesn’t lose control like that. But the way he grips the steering wheel once he’s seated tells you everything you need to know.
The engine hums to life.
Silence stretches between you — not uncomfortable, but thick. Charged.
He doesn’t look at you right away. His jaw is tight. His shoulders are broader than usual somehow, like he’s still standing between you and that guy at the party.
You fold your hands in your lap.
“I didn’t encourage him,” you say softly.
“I know.”
Immediate. Firm.
That’s not what this is.
A red light stops the car. The glow paints his face in crimson. He finally looks at you then, and there’s something sharp in his eyes — not insecurity, not doubt.
Claim.
“He touched you"
It’s not a question.
Your breath catches slightly. “I moved away.”
“You shouldn’t have had to.”
The light turns green. He drives again, but his movements are deliberate now. Controlled. Every shift of the wheel precise.
“He leaned in too close,” Izuku continues quietly. “And he didn’t back off when you asked him to.”
You swallow. “You handled it.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks.
“I wanted to handle it worse.”
That makes your stomach flip.
He exhales slowly through his nose, like he’s recalibrating himself.
“I don’t share,” he says finally.
It’s calm. Almost too calm.
Your fingers twist together. “I’m not something to share.”
“I know that,” he says immediately. His voice softens just a fraction — not gentler, just lower. “That’s the point.”
Another red light.
This time he doesn’t look away.
“I don’t like other people thinking they get to try.”
There’s no jealousy in it. No fear.
Just possession. Just certainty.
Your heart pounds a little faster.
“He was looking at you like he thought he could have his way with you.”
A small, almost incredulous huff leaves him. “That’s not how this works.”
You shift in your seat, heat rising under your skin. “You didn’t seem very calm back there.”
“I wasn’t.”
The admission sits heavy between you.
His thumb taps once against the steering wheel, then stills.
“I’m trying to be.”
“For me?”
His eyes flick to you again, something dark flickering there.
“For both of us.”
The air inside the car feels warmer now. Thicker. You can feel the restraint rolling off him in waves — the careful, deliberate containment of someone who could have snapped and didn’t.
Not because he couldn’t.
Because he chose not to.
Your voice is barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to prove anything.”
His lips press together.
“I know.”
A beat.
The car finally turns onto your street. Streetlights pass in slow intervals, shadows sliding over his face.
He parks. Turns the engine off.
The silence afterward is louder than the drive itself.
He doesn’t move immediately.
Then — slowly — he unbuckles his seatbelt.
When he looks at you this time, it’s steady. Focused.
“I’m done being polite.”
And the way he says it makes your pulse stutter in anticipation.
The hallway outside your apartment is quiet when you step out of the elevator.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that makes every sound sharper — the click of Izuku’s shoes against tile, the soft rustle of your sleeve as you adjust your bag on your shoulder.
He walks slightly ahead at first.
Not rushing.
But purposeful.
You watch the way his shoulders are still set, how his hands are flexing faintly at his sides like he hasn’t fully come down from the adrenaline yet.
When you reach your door, you pull your keys out, but your fingers fumble slightly.
He notices.
Of course he does.
His hand closes gently over yours — not grabbing, just steadying.
“I’ve got it.”
His voice is lower now. Still tight, but not sharp.
He takes the keys carefully and unlocks the door.
The second you’re inside, the world shifts.
No music. No voices. No watchful eyes.
Just you.
And him.
He shuts the door behind you, and the click of the lock sliding into place feels louder than it should.
You barely get two steps into the entryway before you feel his presence behind you — close enough that your back brushes lightly against his chest.
He doesn’t trap you yet.
He just stands there.
Breathing.
You can feel the rise and fall of his chest. Slightly uneven.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
The question surprises you.
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
You turn halfway to face him. His expression is different now — still intense, but less edged. More searching.
“I’m fine,” you say again. "I should be asking if you okay,"
His eyes scan your face like he’s checking for something you might not be saying.
“I just didn’t like that,” he admits.
“I know.”
“He kept testing the line.”
His jaw tightens again at the memory, but this time he exhales through it.
“I can understand if someone flirts with you. It's bound to happen no matter what.” His hand slides to your waist slowly, fingers resting there like he needs the contact. “But when someone tried to touch you…”
He trails off.
You feel it then — not anger.
Protectiveness.
“He ignored you,” Izuku finishes.
Your heart softens just slightly.
“I handled it.”
“You shouldn’t have had to handle it alone.”
His forehead dips forward until it nearly rests against yours, but he stops just shy.
“I was across the room,” he says, quieter now. “And I could see it.”
“See what?”
“That he thought he could get away with it.”
The hand at your waist tightens just a fraction.
“I don’t like people thinking they get chances with you.”
It isn’t possessive in a cruel way.
It’s resolute.
Steady.
Like he’s stating a boundary the world needs to respect.
Your fingers lift slowly, sliding up his chest until they curl lightly in the fabric near his collar.
“I chose you,” you murmur.
His breath hitches.
“I know.”
“And it'll always be you, Izu...”
His eyes close for a brief second, like that sentence hits somewhere deep.
When they open again, the sharp edge has dulled.
He’s calmer now.
Still intense.
But grounded.
His thumb brushes slowly over your hip.
“I’m not mad at you,” he says quietly.
“I didn’t think you were.”
A faint, almost sheepish breath leaves him.
“I almost lost it.”
“You didn’t.”
He nods once.
Because that matters.
For a few seconds, neither of you moves.
The tension shifts — not disappearing, but changing shape. Less volatile. More intimate.
His hand slides from your waist up to your jaw, thumb brushing just beneath your cheekbone.
“You deserve to feel comfortable,” he says softly. “Anywhere.”
There’s something gentler in his tone now.
Protective, not territorial.
“You don’t need me hovering. But I’ll always step in if you need it.”
Your pulse slows just slightly at that.
“You don’t scare me when you get like that,” you admit.
His gaze sharpens again — but not harshly.
“No?”
“No.”
You step closer.
His breath deepens.
“You scare everyone else,” you add quietly.
A faint smirk touches his mouth.
“Good.”
The word isn’t cruel.
It’s protective.
His forehead finally rests against yours.
And for a moment, the intensity gives way to something softer — something warm.
“I don’t like the idea of someone thinking they can push past you,” he murmurs. “You shouldn’t have to raise your voice to be heard.”
Your fingers slide into his hair.
“You’re very intense when you’re protective.”
“I know.”
There’s no apology in it.
But there’s affection now.
His hands settle at your hips, drawing you just a little closer — not pinning, not trapping.
Just grounding.
“Next time,” he says quietly, “I’ll be closer.”
Your heart flutters.
“Planning ahead?”
“Always.”
And when he finally leans in to kiss you, it isn’t sharp or claiming at first.
It’s slow.
Intentional.
Like he’s reminding himself — and you — that he’s here.
That you’re safe.
That no one else gets access.
The tension doesn’t disappear.
It deepens.
And when his grip tightens just slightly, when his breath grows heavier against your lips, you know the edge isn’t gone.
Your heart raced.
His mouth moved down to your jaw. You neck. Your collarbone.
Your breath hitched, and your hands slid into his hair.
He exhaled sharply against your skin.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured.
“So are you.”
A faint huff of breath left him.
His fingers intertwined with yours.
"I love you angel."
His grip on you got harder as you tensed from his words. You were already melting, and he loved it.
He stepped back from you, just enough to guide you down the hallway.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
“Tell me to stop,” he said quietly.
You didn’t.
One step.
Another.
Your back brushed the bedroom doorframe.
He paused there.
Breathing heavier now.
Eyes darker.
Still checking.
Always checking.
“Last chance,” he murmured.
You stepped backward into the room.
Pulled him with you. Your face burning.
The door shut behind you with a soft click.
And his voice, low and steady in the dim light, brushed your ear.
_ "Izuku, honey…" you call out to him, a slight whine lacing your voice as you make your way to the home office, where he’s been cooped up since he got back from school.
_ "Yes, I’m right here. I still have a few tests to grade, but I’ll be with you soon." he replies absently, too focused on the papers scattered across his desk to even lift his head when you enter.
_ "You said that an hour ago." you huff impatiently, crossing the room in a few quick strides, arms crossed over your chest as you stop beside him.
Still nothing, no reaction..
You glare down at him, ready to protest again, but then a wicked idea crosses your mind.
You snatch the pen and papers from his hands, dropping them onto the desk before settling yourself squarely in his lap, and watching him completely short-circuit.
Finally, a reaction..
You wrap your arms around his neck and lean in close, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you wait.
_ "W-what are you doing? You’re really close! I mean.. not that I mind! I don’t! It’s just.. your face is.." he babbles, eyes blown wide, face burning red, and arms hovering awkwardly at his sides like he has no idea where to put them.
_ "What about my face? What’s wrong with it?" you ask innocently, fingers threading through his wild hair as your lips press teasing kisses along his heated cheek and down the line of his neck, right over the frantic flutter of his pulse.
_ "What.. no! Nothing’s wrong with it!" he stammers, body going rigid beneath you. "It’s statistically attractive.. no, wait! I-I mean, you’re beautiful! That’s why my heart rate increases every time you’re near.."
You lean back slightly, a smirk tugging at your lips as you let him spiral.
_ "…and when you look at me like that, I get nervous.. no, not nervous! It’s that other thing, uh what is it called?"
Beads of sweat gather at his temple as he struggles to recover what little composure he has left.
_ "Captivated? Enchanted? Smitten?" and you’re not helping, not even a little.
He freezes completely, like his brain just rebooted.
_ "Y-yes, smitten!" he blurts out suddenly, eyes widening even more, as if he’s just solved a life threatening equation.
Silence stretches between you for a few short seconds, during which, you've stifled a threatening laughter and the urge to pepper his face with soft loving kisses.
Then, he realizes what he just said, and his face somehow turns even redder.
_ "I-I mean.. not that I love.. well I do! But I didn’t mean to say it like that.. I mean.."
You've heard enough, so you don’t let him finish.
You lean in again, effectively closing the remaining distance between you, and press your lips to his in a breathtaking kiss, just to shut him up, and it works instantly.
His entire body goes still beneath you, breath hitching sharply as his mind finally goes quiet for once.
When you pull away, he just stares at you, stunned, and completely gone.
"You stopped talking," you murmur, amused, warm breath mingling with his heated huffs.
"I forgot how." he admits faintly, seeming a lot calmer at last, though a new kind of turbulence is now simmering beneath the deep green of his eyes.
You laugh softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek, "good, keep it that way."
His muscular arms finally find your waist, looping around it and pressing you flush against his chest.
_ "I think I should take a little break from grading tests." he suggests, his demeanor completely shifting.
_ "I think you should, Midoriya sensei." you murmur teasingly, leaning in again to claim his lips in a passionate kiss, and this time he's ready and returns it with the same fervor.
(edited) warnings. 18+ content, mdni. fem! reader but interpret this as however you want. slightly suggestive nsfw content, nsfw hcs, drabble. might be ooc. aged-up characs! izuku x reader x slight! katsuki.
izuku is such a pervert. he knows it. no one else seems to notice, but deep down, he's fully aware.
how could he not be? he grew up with the internet at his fingertips, exposed to all kinds of media from a young age. he's seen things. learned things. and now as a hormonal teenager, it's not like he can just turn it off.
especially not when it came to you.
you're the kind of girl who turns heads the moment you walk into a room. the one everyone has a crush on—of course you are. you move with confidence, like you know exactly how good you look. and god, do you look good.
your lips are always glossy, teasing like you've just licked them. your scent clings to the air, sweet, intoxicating. and that uniform—it's driving him insane. the way your blouse clings to your curves, buttons straining to keep everything contained.
oh, and that skirt? way too short. every step you take, it rides up just a little, flashing more of your thighs, drawing his eyes to the way your thigh-highs press against soft skin.
it's maddening. you're maddening.
and izuku? he's obsessed.
which is why he keeps that notebook.
filled with nudity sketches of you. written notes of your likes and dislikes. your kinks, desires. he writes it all down, lets himself imagine. it's horrendously wrong, he knows it is, but fuck, how can he stop?
that's when things took a turn.
after school. the halls are mostly empty, the classroom eerily quiet. katsuki is being a usual major asshole, shoving izuku around, mocking him. the same routine.
and to his absolute horror, the notebook ended up falling into the blond's hands.
he should've just left it at home. but his mom has been doing more room checks lately, and class was so boring today. he kept sneaking glances at you from across the room, indulging in his own twisted little word, scribbling away.
which is why it got katsuki hooked, too. the hell's gotten into that nerd, it's pissing him the fuck off. he thought it's another one of the nerd's dumb "hero analysis for the future" that he gets to blow up again.
but they don't know that this notebook isn't about heroes.
but as katsuki continued flipping the pages, his crimson eyes took in the contents of the notebook so intently that his friends in the back are urging him to read it out loud, unaware of what's actually inside the notebook.
izuku braces himself. this is it. katsuki is going to destroy him. to screech and look at him in disgust. rat him out. get him expelled. call him a creepy, sick fuck. maybe even kill him.
but that's not what happened.
instead, katsuki's gaze flickers toward the window. izuku's eyes followed his, pulse hammering.
there you were, laughing with your friends as you walk out the school gates, completely unaware of the catastrophe unfolding in this classroom.
then, to izuku's bewilderment—katsuki smirks. and without a word, he shoves the notebook into his own bag.
izuku's stomach drops. what the hell just happened?
katsuki doesn't say anything. he just turns on his heel and walks away, his friends trailing after him, pestering him about what did he read. he ignores the lackeys. but not before flashing deku with an all-knowing look with that smug smirk.
You stare at the plant on your desk, squinting at the familiar, yet strange thing. It is the kind of plant you owned, just not the one you left Izuku with. Same type, same pot, different plant. Your boyfriend stands next to you, nervousness radiating off of him, cheeks slightly red, eyes flitting between you and your desk.
"That's not my plant," you state dryly, fully confident now, eyes shifting to Izuku, who looks like guilt might just swallow him right there.
He presses his lips together before finally meeting your eyes, glassy and so remorseful. "I'm sorry…" his voice cracks halfway through, "I thought you wouldn't notice…" Izuku reaches for the plant, pulling it toward himself like taking back the mistake of replacing it. His fingers play with the leaves nervously.
The sight is so cute, you really can't stay mad at him, slowly pushing the pot back to where it stood. "Don't worry about it," you lean close to kiss his forehead, fingers ruffling his hair. "Thanks for getting me a new one."
Bakugou Katsuki
Katsuki looks more pissed about this situation than he should be. It was your plant after all, yet your boyfriend stares at the wilted plant on your desk like it personally offends him. "… maybe she just didn't like you…" you suggest carefully, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, trying to hide your amusement.
"Tsk," he crosses his arms in front of his chest, turning his face away from the situation entirely. "Not my fault it's so damn weak."
"Didn't say it was your fault," you reassure, pulling him closer by his wrist, and resting your head on his shoulder, still smiling while looking at the dead plant. It's kind of cute Katsuki couldn't keep it alive for two weeks. "Let's go plant shopping tomorrow. Find a stronger one just for you." Hiding your grin is futile at this point.
"Dumbass."
Dabi
"Dabi, what the hell!?"
The villain takes his time strolling to your room, leisurely chewing on one of the snacks you brought him, audacious as always. "What?"
"My plant?? You said you'd take care of it," you glare at him, pointing to the sad, brownish grey thing that's left of your leafy companion. Dabi's brows rise, looking past you to where you're pointing, face reflecting the slightest bit of recognition.
"Riiiight…" he takes another bite, "I knew I was forgetting something…"
"I really liked that thing you know?" your glare earns a small scoff before he steps closer, pulling you in without shame.
"Don't pout. I'll dig up a new one, kay?"
Shigaraki Tomura
You two stare at the empty space on your desk in silence, slight frown over Tomura's features, contrasting your confused look. "Where's my plant?"
"Gone."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Means it's gone." Tomura turns to leave the room and the topic behind, though you're not ready to let it go this easily. Your hand catches his wrist keeping him within the potential crime scene. You ignore the huff of disproval.
Squeezing his wrist, you meet your boyfriend's eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling slightly. "Either you threw it out or you dusted it, which one is it?"
He tilts his head away, allowing his smooth locks to hide his eyes from view. "… 'm not telling you…" and you can't help but laugh at his grumpy tone.
╰┈➤ guhhh wrote at 2:30 am, I really need to sleep
[ 𝖭𝗈𝗐 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀… ]
ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ - ( ᴄʜᴀᴘᴘᴇʟʟ ʀᴏᴀɴ )
↻ ◁ || ၊၊||၊|။||||၊| ▷ ↺
⭑ Eijiro Kirishima ⭑
boxers, black tank top type guy for sure. sometimes sleeps shirtless but not often since he might have to urgently get out of bed for an emergency. also never stays In the same spot, usually starts in a chill position amd wakes up with his limbs everywhere, drooling, blankets everywhere
⭑All Might ⭑
shite t-shirt, baggy sweatpants every night. and a either a super light sleepwr or a super heavy sleeper and sleeps in a straight line, no moving, but like LOUD snoring
⭑ Tenya Iida ⭑
said it once I'll say it again, long gown and droopy hat. (this is canon...) and also probably sleeps with socks on. stiff as a log, arms by his side, with a comical snore bubble
⭑ Katsuki Bakugo ⭑
black tank top/shirtless and sweatpants, a very sweaty sleeper....and a very violent sleeper. like sleep talking and a lot of flailing, if you had to share a bed with him you'd be on the floor within minutes
⭑ Izuku Midoriya ⭑
those dumbass labeled shirts. or sometimes all might merch like a silly shirt or patterned boxers. also a pretty stiff straight sleepwr but mutters alot in his sleep mostly about random stuff like quirks or past fights
⭑ Shoto Todoroki ⭑
white t shirt, socks on, sweatpants. also probably sleeps with a moderately thin pillow, like almost flat... he just closes his eyes and opens them in the morning. very stiff sleeper but a very light sleeper
⭑ Denki Kaminari ⭑
ironic shirts and stupid boxers (e: "certified Sigma ⤴️" and lighting bolt print boxers. not a violent sleeper but a hyper sleeper -- also I can see him accidently shocking you a bit If you shared a bad, and he's a surprisingly deep sleeper
⭑ Tokoyami Fumikage ⭑
hoodie and black sweatpants but it's like a matching set with a cool white pattern on both. definitely a pillow hugger or a plushie cuddler. sometimes gets bad nightmares :(
⭑ Aizawa Shota ⭑
a simple black long sleeve and comfy pants, he has a sleeping bag so uses that, but if he's in his own bed then lots of blankets and pillows. a deep, deep sleeper.
⭑ Hizashi Yamada ⭑
definitely has those white boxers with the red heart print and sleeps only in stuff along those lines without a shirt or anything, LOUD snoring for sure, also lots of flailing but occasionally sleep walks
