#vi’s scribbles

[cielcius]

i can’t fathom the idea of katsuki kissing you after you’ve just finished your nightly skin routine.

not to be misunderstood, you love his kisses, you really do, but gawd does it feel wrong when the last layer of lotion feels smudged somehow on your cheek. even though it’s been absorbed, you can’t help but inwardly cringe at the ruin.

and this cringe is physical, elbows digging into your sides, a slight crinkle in the softness of your face, and katsuki notices after pulling away. he frowns because there’s even a slight tug at the corners of your lips, though you try not to show it.

did you not like his kisses? are his kisses not appreciated anymore?

before you can even think to explain your reaction, katsuki’s frown grows deeper in thought. was it something he did before? are you trying to tell him that you’re mad? too lost in thought to think about his physical actions, his head subtly shakes. hmm, what could it be?

“uhh, katsuki?”

“hm?”

“are you okay?” he narrows his eyes. suspicious. what an odd way to tell him that you’re mad, indeed. catiously, he pokes the bear with his twenty yard stick.

“are you.. mad?”

you reel in shock, wide eyes looking up at him in confusion. “no?” it came out more of a question, only serving to rouse katsuki more as he furthers his investigation. “are.. you okay?”

you smile. you smiled!!! and laughed!!! so everything must be okay, right?

what he hadn’t seen was the dawn of realization in your eyes, only laughing at the fact that he must’ve thought you were mad at him and acted in retaliation. goodness, to think he’s been wandering in the dark, trying to find his way around this new situation.

“i’m sorry, katsuki. it just feels a little weird when my face is touched after doing my skincare stuff.” ah, so that’s what it is. wait! but does this mean no kisses after skincare every night?!

“no.. no kisses?” you smile. “you can kiss me, just on the lips!” you pucker your lips, a sign of good loyalty as katsuki indulges and pulls away with less of a frown than before. you do appreciate his kisses! “good.”

[cielcius]

um uhm

mathematician!izuku (?) idk it just popped into my head and it started invading cuz what do mathematicians even do??? like, what exactly is their job???

but keeping that in mind, mathematician!izuku who was considered a genius at a young elementary age. graduating high school a year early, izuku was apart of multiple national and international projects throughout his life leading up to then.

in between classes, it was meeting famous celebrities in the field, interviews with show hosts on national television, making crucial breakthroughs on some of the world’s most complex mathematical problems.

you could say izuku made a bit of a name for himself, and not just for his brains, but his charms and looks as well.

so what is next for him? college, of course.

being famous doesn’t always pay the bills. but if you want to learn from him? just ask him after the lecture to join the study group that’s been gradually forming around him.

you want a little meet n greet? you can meet him after his class, or at his part-time job at the family-owned diner downtown. “gotta make rent somehow.” and he’ll tell you that with a little wink and that contagious smile of his as he walks away to get your drinks for you.

[cielcius]

bakugou x g/n!reader. drunk!fic, established relationship, injury, more crack than less hurt/more comfort, good ending (i promise)

if there is one thing katsuki has ever gotten mad at you for, it’s ripping his clothes.

he’s not talking about his pro-hero costume, no, they have multiple copies of his costume and the patterns down to the secret inside pockets kept on the inside of his pants. he’s talking about his regular clothes, “civilian clothes”, not all particularly that expensive and nothing really all that special, but certain clothes tend to go out of style.

it just so happened that you ripped the one shirt that went out of style years ago, now unattainable, and completely heart-wrenching for katsuki to watch through the tears in his eyes. and it all started with a guys’ night out:

“y/n?” you hum into the speaker of your phone, confusion slowly starting to cloud your mind when you hear todoroki’s voice contrary to the caller id showing your husband. “um, do you think you can come and pick bakugou up? he keeps... crying.”

a silent gasp falls from your lips, almost in disbelief. not that the sight of katsuki crying was unheard of, but in public? “oh my, i'm coming now but what happened?” you can hear todoroki sigh into the receiver, and it’s a long sigh. “uh, i think something with wanting you. everybody else is too drunk.”

“and you?”

“i wish i was.” ah, so todoroki is driving. “ok, i’ll be there in a bit. watch him please.” you hear something like a noise of protest as you’re putting on your shoes. “it’s kinda weird to watch bakugou cry but i’ll try.”

— 

arriving on the scene—the bar located halfway across the city—you’re greeted with the sight of katsuki on the ground, a beer bottle still in hand and his jacket acting as a blanket as he slumps back against todoroki’s legs. as you walk closer, you can hear the low drunken murmurs of your husband as he rambles to todoroki.

“’m miss y/n. wanna go to them. wan’ some ice cream. rocky road, no, mint chocolate. who eats sorbet? how do you even pronounce sorbet? where’s y/n?”

you can’t find yourself suppressing the smile that crawls onto your lips at katsuki’s drunken monologue, nodding at todoroki once he spots you. “oh good. you’re here.”

“who’s here? shut up, icyhot. ‘m talkin’ here.” kneeling down to katsuki’s line of sight, you watch as his eyes grow wide, brimmed in red and slightly swollen from the tears that had been spoken of over the phone. “katsuki,” you smile. “let’s go home.” nodding to todoroki again, you watch as he makes his way back into the bar while you make the venture back home with your husband slung heavily over your shoulders.

— 

nearly gasping for air, you toss your keys into the dish placed by the doorway, setting katsuki down before working on getting both your shoes off. “y/n,” you hum in response. “are we home yet?” you huff in amusement. “yes katsuki, we’re home and need to get you some water.”

“mm. ‘m thirsty.” with a little help on katsuki’s behalf, you get him into a chair at the table before grabbing a glass of water and setting it down in front of him. that was your first mistake.

the glass falls at the attempt katsuki makes to grab for it, shattering into pieces against the hardwood floors. “oh no, katsuki, are you okay?” without answering your question, katsuki starts to reach down at the pieces, grabbing at the large pieces before he winces.

blood, lots of blood. the palm of his hand starts to bleed an unrealistic amount of red, dripping onto the floor slowly. letting the piece of glass fall from his hand, katsuki, almost comedically, falls out of his seat and onto the ground. you quickly make your way around the broken glass in a frantic state of panic. that was your second mistake.

not wanting to lose any more blood, you rip a strip of cloth off the bottom of katsuki’s shirt and quickly wrap it around his palm, paying no mind to the onslaught of tears that were soon to come with your actions. 

“you,” you look up at katsuki, eyes searching his and widening when you find them glossy with tears. “you ripped my shirt. my shirt...” you open your mouth, but you’re speechless.

slowly, you come to grasp your senses. “i'm sorry, katsuki, but you’re bleeding. we should go to the hospital in case there’s glass in your hand.” you stand, about to help katsuki up until he turns his head away with a hmph. you raise your eyebrows in disbelief. did he just “hmph” you?

“no. ‘m not going with you.”

“but katsuki, you’re bleeding.” crossing his arms, he looks back at you with hellfire in his eyes. “i. don’t. care.” as if he was reviving his teenage rebellion, katsuki narrows his eyes into a glare, challenging you to talk back, and talk back you did.

“you’re hurt, katsuki. i outta leave you here if you keep acting like this.”

“then do it!” your jaw drops at his response and you swear your eye is twitching, ears not believing a single thing you were hearing and yet you watch as your husband gives the sass to go along with his attitude. before you can act further, katsuki stumbles to his feet, the cloth around his hand covered in clouds of blood but he walks it off as he makes his way to your bedroom.

following him, still in disbelief, you watch as katsuki pulls out your duffel bag before throwing in an odd mix of his and your clothes. “are we going somewhere? like the hospital.” at your remark, katsuki shoots a glare at you once again before going back to packing. “no, me. ‘m going to kirishima’s cause at least he won’t rip my clothes.”

with a bag full of who-knows-what, katsuki gets to the front door, picking up a shoe to go on the opposite foot before his nose scrunches up at the discomfort.  “katsuki, kirishima is the one friend most likely to rip your clothes.”

“then i'll go somewhere else. even if it has to be icyhot’s place.” though contrary to his words, you see katsuki shiver in distaste at having to stay at todoroki’s house. the sight makes you laugh tiredly. “katsuki,” you bend down to where katsuki is seated, trying to get his other shoe on. “i'm sorry i ripped your shirt.” at your apology, katsuki stops and sits limp with a pout.

“’s my favorite shirt.”

“i know.”

“they don’t sell them anymore.”

“i know. but katsuki,” he looks up at you. “your parents made that shirt.”

“my parents made it.” his pout grows deeper, shoulders sagging.

“and i'm pretty sure they can make one more for you.” like a spring, katsuki bounces back with a small smile and a glimmer in his eyes. “really? you think they’ll make me another one?” you nod, quietly laughing at your husband’s boyish giddiness. “of course. you’re their son, and they love you very much.”

katsuki’s smile lasts for a few seconds before faltering. “but, i love you.” you pat his shoulder. “i know, katsuki. i love you too.” even then, katsuki begins to sport a small pout. “but, i yelled at you.” you smile, almost sadly.

“it’s okay, katsuki. you didn’t yell but you were mad and it was my fault. no matter what, as long as we can apologize and own up to our mistakes, we’ll always be okay.”

“always?” you nod. “always.” you smooth the bangs of his hair back, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “let’s go to the hospital to make sure you’re okay, and then we can sleep in all day tomorrow. okay?” nodding quietly, katsuki lets you put his shoes on the right feet, grab the keys, and guide him to the hospital, smiling as you take his hand in yours with a smile.

[cielcius]

thinking barber!katsuki (?)

you take your little brother to the big boy salon for the first time, having been there multiple times yourself since your youth to watch your father get his hair cut. walking in, it’s all old, familiar faces.

what you don’t take into account is the new head of blond hair that’s taken up a spot in the midst of it all, looking as if he’s just finished up with a customer.

“bakugou’ll take you. here, i’ll call him over.” your father’s usual barber, and owner of the shop, calls the scowling man over. the blond’s biceps flex under his white button-up, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the subtle veins in his forearm. intimidating.

“he’s new but the kid’s plenty good,” the owner looks to your brother. “he don’t bite, but if he does, just spritz him.” the blond’s scowl that was already embedded before has now made a permanent home at the older man’s words but takes your brother nonetheless.

your hand still hovers over your mouth in shock as you watch the two walk away, bringing snickers out of the older man next to you. “don’t worry, hun. he may look like a hooligan but he’s nice—and not just for customers.”

you turn to the owner in question, quirking your head. in an almost comedic manner, the owner discreetly whispers to you behind the back of his hand. “and he’s single too.”

a wink and a cheeky smile makes you scoff with heat crawling up your neck, looking away to focus on your brother. though once you’re able to fully take the sight in, it’s almost as if your brother had never been nervous in the first place. chatting his ear off, you brother talks animatedly to the blond—bakugou. bakugou’s scowl has been replaced with a gentle smile, one that seems reserved and thoughtfully shown. he nods along to your brother’s words, patiently taking them in before dishing out an appropriate response.

it’s as bakugou is readying his tools, that his eyes meet yours. it’s quick and sudden before you break away from him, thumbs twiddling in nerves. maybe it was just you, but despite the briefness of it, you felt a sparking connection—

“oh you want my sibling’s number? yeah, they’re single, so you should definitely shoot your shot.”

your brother really couldn’t have said it louder. over your silent embarrassment, you can’t help but suppress your laughter, all the while the owner full on howls at your brother, slapping bakugou on the back and shooting him a promising look.

[cielcius]

bakugou x reader; fluff

you’re relaxing on the couch one night after a long day. today was your date day with katsuki that usually comes at least once every two weeks, if not every week. snow is falling heavier than it did earlier that day and you accept a steaming cup in your hands from katsuki as he settles beside you.

you’re scrolling through the news on your phone until an article makes you stop, catching your full attention by the bold letters, titling:

SIGHTED: DYNAMIGHT AND HIS FAN-CLAIMED “ADORABLE” SPOUSE ON AN OUTING

you being his spouse, you click on the title in curiosity. “what’s that?” having caught a glimpse of his hero name, katsuki peeks over your shoulder curiously, raising an eyebrow at the published date of the article: just earlier today.

“jeez, these extras really don’t have anything else to do.” giving a light smack to katsuki’s chest, you feel him chuckle beside you as you read through the article, which didn’t provide much reading material. instead, it filled your screen with more pictures than words.

the two of you are displayed walking down a street, presumably on your way somewhere—and you were—but something rare had occurred: you had gotten lost. lo and behold, multiple pictures in the same angle show katsuki, one hand holding his phone, and the other dragging you at a small distance behind him.

suppose the kicker is you.

you, who practically waddled behind him in a big white puffer coat, a white scarf covering the lower half of your face, and a white hat to top it off. your hand in his is the only thing connecting the two of you and below the article, you catch multiple readers freshly commenting from just a minute ago.

adoration, mentions of being a walking marshmallow, and textual squealing in all caps is all that fills the comments. they adored you and your outfit that seems to have set a trend for the winter season. reading the last bit of the article, you smile at the last few words and squeal when katsuki tickles at your side, having forgotten that, he too, was reading.

“It seems Dynamight’s beloved spouse has become more popular among fans than the man himself… And I don’t blame them.”

[cielcius]

i like to imagine that as katsuki gets older, his hair color changes and gets a bit darker, like a light brown, making him start to resemble his father more.

[cielcius]

you’re seated at your vanity, patting at the eyeshadow that sweeps across your eyelid. you layer on once more before closing your pallete and moving on to your lips. you can see katsuki through the mirror behind you, sitting on your bed in a black dress shirt that you once said was your favorite. though of course, anything for you on your special day. your birthday.

katsuki scrolls through his phone, going between games that use up way too much of his phone battery, actively avoiding his manager’s emails, and checking on his public rankings. though eventually, he finds himself watching you through the mirror.

watching the way you cover your lips and sweep over them with shiny gloss, the way you dig through your makeup bag for some other makeup product that he most likely wouldn’t be able to name unless it were eyeliner. katsuki looks at you and damn. you’re too fucking beautiful.

it makes him put his phone down, lean towards you as you pack up your makeup, before he’s towering over you at your vanity. his arms come over your shoulders before they wrap around them, bringing him down to press a kiss to your cheek before digging his nose into your neck. “so fucking pretty, baby.”

[cielcius]

You stand in the doorway, waiting for Katsuki as he tugs at his tie in front of the bathroom mirror. You smile at the crease in his eyebrows, a defeated huff blowing fast from his lips before he turns to you. It’s been forever since he’s had to put on a tie. More than well known for not wearing the red school-issued tie in high school, Katsuki sighs in defeat because he sure as hell isn’t looking up a video now when you’re right there.

He steps back to make room for you, hands going through the unconscious motions to hold you by the hips as you position yourself in front of him. The mess of a tie he’s left for you is wrapped around his neck almost hazardously, leaving a giant knot at the root of it all. You let your fingers work at the knot, not minding Katsuki as he shamelessly stares down your figure and back up multiple times.

Out of your peripheral vision, you can see a smile slowly grow on Katsuki’s lips. It’s a smile of giddiness, of the ecstatic little boy you met when you were barely walking, and of the man who’s gone to great lengths to see you standing at his side by the end of everything. It’s Katsuki’s smile that makes you smile back at him, tugging at the nearly undone knotted tie.

Across, around and around, under, over, and through. His tie now sits snug against a grey dress shirt, sealed with a clip you had gifted him for this special, special event. You look at Katsuki, meeting his eyes that shone with indescribable emotion, and yet, you could feel it all as you press a long kiss to his lips before pulling away, your forehead leaning on his when you whisper:

“Congratulations, Number One Hero.”

[cielcius]

the first time you shower at his place, bakugou needs to piss, really bad.

just his luck that your relationship is still relatively fresh, you showering at his place being a pretty big step (toward moving in). but he didn’t plan on that when he first bought the place.

there’s one bedroom, one bathroom, and one of him. one man, one dick, one bathroom, that’s all he ever was and all he ever really needed.

but now you’re in that one bathroom, the one bathroom that he really needs right now, so desperately that he finds himself looking at the sink.

i could—no. don’t you dare finish that fucking thought you nasty piece of shit. think of the dishes.

maybe he should just run over to his neighbor, you know, the one he never bothered to know or care about, nevertheless be close enough to knock on their door to use their bathroom. should he run down to the convenience store instead? no, too much of a hassle at that point, and by that time you’ll probably be done—

the sound of running water is no more, a silence so blissful on bakugou’s ears that he nearly runs to meet you as the bathroom door opens. “the hell were you doing in there for so long, playing extreme sports?” is all he gets out before he’s slamming the door.

after relieving the building tension, he walks out noticeably calmer, catching a sight of you as you giggle to yourself. “hehe, extreme sports.”

[cielcius]

raking up the last of the leaves, you look out the window to see your husband smiling back at you, rake in hand as he presents to you the heart of leaves piled on your front lawn.

kaminari d., kirishima e., midoriya i., mirio t., atsumu m., bokuto k., hinata s., kuroo t., matsukawa i., nishinoya y., oikawa t., itadori y., gojo s., kunigami r.

[cielcius]

haha imagine shouto gets hit w a quirk and has a devil and angel appear.

pro-hero!shouto x doctor!g/n!reader

The sirens that ring through the streets of Musutafu echo in Shouto’s ears, bringing a headache with a sharp whip that takes a crack at his temple. Finally, after a long and unnecessarily drawn-out battle, the villain was down with their head ducking into the police car, hands cuffed behind their back as they struggle to get out one last curse to Pro-Hero Shouto.

“Curse him back.”

Shouto looks up, perplexed at the new voice but there’s nobody around him, or at least not close enough to have been so loud, and Shouto swore he was starting to see the words form in front of him. “Who said…” He trails off, moreover being physically interrupted as the paramedics usher him off the battle scene and to an ambulance where they can tend to his injuries. As they start to bandage the cut on his arm, the voice makes its appearance again.

“Stick your finger up their nose. It’ll be funny.”

“Don’t stick your finger up their nose, even if it is funny.”

This time, Shouto is sure to survey his surroundings, eyes narrow as they look for the source of the voices. Though halfway through his search, his headache comes back with a sharp pang, forcing him to close his eyes in order to bear the pain. “Mr. Shouto, are you alright?” Shouto waves it off as a headache, a concussion at worst, which isn’t anything new to him.

Or maybe the part about hearing voices was worst, he couldn’t tell at the moment as the mentioned voices had started to invade with ideas, and ideas opposing those ideas. As far as he could tell, there were two voices that sounded frighteningly similar to his own, now that he’s heard a good amount of the conversations that went something like:

“That villain was such a bastard. He oughta follow them to the pound and give them a piece of his mind. Just imagine, the look on their face.”

“He’s not gonna follow them, much less beat them up. Sure, they might have been a little rude and violent but everybody has bad days.”

“Well that guy had a bad week if you ask me. Maybe a few of them for him to have fought like such a whiny little bi���” 

“Can you stop?” Shouto’s outburst comes sudden and frustrated, having been annoyed to the limit where the need to speak seemed necessary.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Shouto.” At the meek voice, Shouto comes to the realization that nobody besides himself can hear the voices.

“Oh, look what you made him do. Now the paramedic is scared. Go on, apologize.”

“Wait! Sorry, I was talking to someone else.” At Shouto’s claim, the paramedic takes a look over of the scene around them—and there’s no one near conversing range. The paramedic looks back at Shouto with their eyebrows knitted, cautious hands still moving in practiced motions to fix him up. “Mr. Shouto, are you sure you’re okay? You can tell me if there’s something bothering you, or I can help with your transport to the hospital.”

Shouto sighs. “Yeah, okay.”

— 

“Mister Todoroki Shouto? Can I come in?” Shouto nods, pausing before he voices a confirmation for the doctor to enter the makeshift room of curtains. Beyond the white curtains, he can hear the shouts of nurses and the squeaking wheels of stretchers being rolled to and fro. When the curtain is drawn to let the doctor enter, the sounds increase before trailing off into a muffle again.

“Oh, they’re a pretty one. Bet they’re a good fu—”

“How about you leave it at pretty.”

Shouto can’t stop the slight turn down of his lips at the voices, half-vexed at the atrocity and yet, he finds himself agreeing—his doctor is really pretty. “Hi, I’m Doctor Y/n L/n. I heard something happened with you out on the field?” Shouto nods, the only question in his mind being how to explain what happened.

“Okay, can you tell me what happened?” Shouto purses his lips together before nodding. “Uh, I keep hearing myself.” The voices start again, bantering between each other over Shouto’s recent statement.

“He just messed up our chance with Mx. Hot Doctor.”

“They have a name! It’s Doctor L/n, and that’s not even what we’re here for!”

“Ah, shut up. You obviously wouldn’t get it. I mean, look at them.”

Shouto doesn’t know why, but he finds himself eyeing you from head to toe, looking back up to meet wide eyes. “Mister Todoroki, do you think there’s another way to explain it?” You’re obviously uncomfortable, and Shouto doesn’t blame you. He doesn’t even know why he did that.

“They’re arguing.”

“They?”

“Yes, the voices. They sound like me, but there’s two of them, and they keep arguing about you—” Shouto stops when the voices interrupt him.

“Dipshit, why the hell would you tell Mx. Hot Doctor that?”

“It’s Doctor L/n!”

Shouto gauges for your reaction, suddenly feeling the urge to stand up and leave when he finds you speechless in the presence of his words, before you seem to come to your senses. “Okay,” you write something on a clipboard. “Are they sentient? Like saying things that aren’t your original thoughts?” Shouto begins to nod before stopping abruptly. Did it count if he agreed with what they were saying though?

“Well, they say things that I don’t think of, but I agree with them.” You scribble some more on the clipboard. “Okay, can you tell what they’ve been saying? Are they telling you to do something? Any harmful, or perhaps violent thoughts?” Shouto tilts his head in question. Though they hadn’t prompted him to do so much as set fires to buildings, at least one of the two voices didn’t seem to voice completely harmless thoughts.

“They’re not telling me to do anything right now, but one of them seems to want to do something, and the other voice says not to do it.” You nod and scribble more down, and Shouto wonders if you have the so-called “doctor’s chicken scratch” writing.

“Maybe this was a bad idea. We’re clearly causing trouble for Doctor L/n.”

“If we wanted to cause trouble, we can still burn the building down.”

“They’re telling me to burn the building down.” Shouto feels as if it was something to tell you, but the same feeling of wanting to stand up and leave returns when you stare at him blankly. “I’m gonna transfer you to ICU.”

Shouto sighs. “Yeah, okay.”

[cielcius]

writing this out so I can do homework in peace. mm maybe minors dont interact w this one. unedited 

bakugou doesn’t usually have one night stands. he’s often too busy to even be thinking about that stuff but when he was forced to take pto, he found himself on the summer sandy shores of a beach off some island a few hours away from home. the air was cool in the spot he chose in the shade of the trees, switching between lounging in the sounds of the waves and diving in to feel the cool water currents rush against him.

then came you. settling into a spot right under the sun with a few friends who chose to splash around in the water whilst you stayed behind. he was laying on his back, shades pushing his drying bangs back with a book to occupy him. he only looked over when he heard a small moan, eyes peering over in time to catch you stretching across the towel laid out beneath you before turning onto your stomach to scroll through your phone.

maybe it’s the amount of free time he has, the lack of communication with his friends who are all still working, or just pent-up un-dealt feelings, but bakugou couldn’t stop looking at the way your back arched. the top of your bikini was unhooked, not wanting an awkward tan, and bakugou found his eyes trailing over the curve of your legs, up your back to where you—oh shit.

you caught him. in a haste, bakugou’s eyes flitted away from your figure and back to his book, his jaw clenching in hopes that you would let it slide, but the sound of shifting sand told him you weren’t going to.

“hey,” he looks up from his book. “you got a problem or something?” yeah, you. in his position, bakugou refrained himself from making any physical moves, making sure to keep your eyes on his as he lowered his book strategically. “no, ma’am. just looking.”

“at me?” you tilt your head in question at him. “yeah, you have a nice body.” jeez, did he really just say that? bakugou is broken from his thoughts when you raise an eyebrow. “oh, thank you.” you say it as if you hadn’t expected him to say that, though to be fair, he hadn’t either.

one thing led to another, and he found himself basking in your presence under the open moonlight of his hotel room. the white linen sheets are the only thing covering your bodies, your skin hot against his when he pulls you to him. it was a one night stand, a mere summer fling, but in that moment, he didn’t want it to be.

he wanted to know you past the few drinks you had at the bar before making your way up to his room. more than the way you moved against him, the way your lips molded with his, he wanted to know what you wore outside the dress you wore here, what else you’d order for dinner on a night out.

he woke up entangled in you, early enough to see the middle of night and day where the sky greyed and the seagulls were pulling themselves together still. he doesn’t know how long he stayed there, lying in bed next to you with his lips level with your forehead, so close he could leave a kiss, but instead, he leaves a note as he climbs out of bed. his morning jog comes a little later, a smile growing when he goes through his trail and starts to near the hotel again for a shower.

you’re gone.

the bed is left empty, other than the shape of you that he wishes was still filled. your things are gone, and bakugou turns his note asking you to stay for breakfast over to the back where you’ve scribbled your own message.

sorry, I don’t do dates.

no phone number, name, nothing. he should’ve seen it coming, he should’ve known, but it was nice to hope when he did. so he went about his day, pretending that he knew better as he went back to the same beach you met at, definitely not waiting for another chance to see you. but by the time he was boarding his plane back home, he knew he’d probably never see you again.

he gets back to work, gets distracted enough to not think about it any longer than he should be. but on the nights he can’t distract himself any longer, nights where he can finally rest at home with no distractions, he finds himself wanting to go back to last summer.

it’s been a few months since then, the year rounding onto spring when a new batch of hires come rushing to work for the agency. bakugou is making his way down to the basement, down to get his gauntlets rewired and fixed when he meets the new hire, the head of the tech support department, y/n l/n.

[cielcius]

the saying goes, you never realized what you had until you lost it—though it might not exactly apply to this situation, you’d say it’s the closest thing to it.

you had just sent suna off at the airport for his first away game. it was exciting to get the news days ago when he came home from practice, but it was only this morning when the fact had dawned upon you that it meant you wouldn’t see him for a few days.

you were proud of him—of course you were—but damn did it hurt to see him off, on a trip that you wouldn’t be going on together, a trip that would leave you alone to tend to the house. you don’t think goodbyes will get any easier no matter what.

the first day, just after leaving the airport, you arrive to an empty home, though now knowing that no one else will be walking in through the front door for the rest of the day. you get ready to sleep in an empty bed and nearly cry from the ache of loneliness that had settled into your heart from the moment you sat down to eat dinner alone.

you get a call at around one in the morning, your phone buzzing in alarm and you don’t hesitate to pick up when you see the id caller. there’s some background noise as suna asks if he’s woken you up. in your sleep stupor, you shake your head ‘no’ before voicing it into the speaker of the phone.

you smile when you hear him chuckle. just hearing the sound of him almost makes it feel as if he were next to you as he was the night before, his hands rubbing your sides as he pecks a kiss against your forehead.

suddenly the background noise doesn’t matter. it goes unheard as his voice lulls you to sleep, until you’re woken by your alarm on the second day without suna. your phone takes up your pillow as you’ve rolled over to his side of the bed, and you groan, blindly searching for the off button before getting ready for work.

your friend group of coworkers ask you if you want to go out for dinner, and this time you don’t deny them. it had been a while since you’d talked outside of work, and it’s not like there was anything to come home to.

this time, he calls you when you’re on the way back home, commuting via metro, so you’re forced to end the call quickly, letting him know that you’ll call back in a bit.

suna’s contact is pulled up on your phone from then on, your thumb ready over the call button. you hear the dial ring, once, twice, and three times before it goes to voicemail. hours away, suna has been called back to practice, shooting the blank screen of his phone a longing glance before turning away. you’ve just missed each other for the day.

you wake up on the third day tired, the fourth day frustrated, and the fifth day gloomy. though you were able to have a few conversations here and there—his break, your break—it lasted no more than three minutes with time to check in on each other and ask how the other’s day has been going. even your bids of ‘i love you’s felt too brief.

you wake up on the sixth day telling yourself to keep it together. you’d breeze through today and wake up tomorrow to pick him up from the airport. yes, the crying stops today. you arise from the covers of the bed, ready to take the day on and clean the house head-to-toe, ready for suna’s arrival until you hear a click.

“oh, you’re up.” suna stands in the doorway of your bedroom, duffel in hand with his jacket sling over his shoulder. he opens his mouth but before he can say another word, you pounce.

“rin!” albeit, the name comes out in a sob, he holds you close to him nevertheless. he rubs your back in comfort, smiling when you pull back to reveal a pout. “i thought you were coming back tomorrow.”

“i wanted to surprise you. i bought your favorite on the way back.” he smiles and pecks your forehead, making you release a sigh of content at the familiar feeling.

he was finally back.

[cielcius]

izuku probably has his own hospital jammies.

he goes so often sometimes he’s just straight living out of the place, so they gifted number one hero deku his own designated hospital gown and jammies.

there’s one patterned in little all might faces (coming from his obsession with the hero) and one decorated in little prints of his hero name in an action comic font along with chibi doodles of his own face.

whenever you’re visiting him (or just living there too) you never forget to bring the house slippers, deku themed of course.

and it’s always a cute sight to see izuku shuffling down the halls in his deku slippers and hospital jammies.

[cielcius]

katsuki loves smacking your ass. in the living room when you’re just getting up from the couch, in the kitchen when you’re cooking his favorite, in the bedroom when you’re… sleeping.

it’s such a regular occurrence that you don’t even think about how that might affect your first son who is completely wrapped around your finger from day one. cue the constant competitions for your attention—the small acts of service ranging from your son helping you with the keys and coats to katsuki whipping out plane tickets for two to your dream vacation (receiving little glares from his son who he lovingly smirks at).

all is well, your boys fighting for your love and affection, until it happens.

katsuki landing the hardest smack on your bottom you’ve ever felt since giving birth. it shocks you enough to bring out a small gasp before narrowing your eyes at your partner, pushing down a smile. but before you can retaliate, your sweet son comes running up to you, frantic as if you had just been attacked—and in his eyes, you have.

“are you okay?!! are you okay—are you hurt??” his concern is nothing to laugh at and yet, you can’t help but find it adorable of how protective he is over you. “it’s okay, i’m okay.”

“are you sure? why’d he hit you like that??” this time you can’t stop the laugh that bursts out, the cramps in your stomach getting worse when you hear katsuki getting slapped multiple times along with a chain of ‘ow ow!’.

[cielcius]

oh my oh my oh my

i went to pick up some food and saw in the restaurant a dad sitting across from his son who was in a high chair. and like, the amount of cuteness made me wanna agh— but now i can’t stop thinking about katsuki sitting across from his infant son.

he took the day off when you couldn’t, deciding that they were gonna have a father-son date out at his favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant. katsuki has the baby carrier strapped to his chest, his son looking up at him with pudgy cheeks and a toothless smile.

katsuki gets to the restaurant, a ramen restaurant, and asks for a high chair at a two-seater table. sitting across from his son, katsuki orders his ramen from the owner and places the small plastic bowl in front of the infant for him to eat.

katsuki sends you a photo, smirking at the amount of crying emotes you spam him when you see the splashes of broth and pieces of noodle decorating your son’s face.