Your personal Tumblr journey starts here
haii, My name is Sarah and I've been writing on Tumblr for almost a year now I think(not consistently of course).I started out writing and reading on wattpad but now i'm here! I really like all kinds of music tbh but my favorite artists are probably Lana Del Rey, Tyler the creator, Pierce the veil, Playboi Carti, Mitski and The smiths. I love editing and reading (books recs are always appreciated!). i'm a big talker which is why im doing this in this format lol. I like to dress emo/alternative/scene I suppose.i also really love anime. some of my faves are probably jjk, Saki K, Csm and Deathnote; btw I have an anime fic blog here if that’s something that interests you!I also(obviously) Love the triplets. i've been watching them since 2022 and went to see them in NJ, October 9th I think. fun fact; where they're from in somerville is only like a 20-25 minute drive from where I live and some of their videos are shot in places I go to often, same with one of their intros.i don't buy a lot of merch cause i'm broke ash but I have a tour shirt, a fresh love shirt and the original space camp launch package thing. okay your probably annoyed with my talking so l'll stfu now, Happy reading!
𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Word count:540
Proofread:yesss
WARNINGS:tooth rotting,feet kicking flufff
A/N:i wanna do like a small pt2 to this of just chris being a little cutie pie like in the video but idrk yet.
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"still don't know what you want?" my best friend Chris asked, coming up behind me.he most likely wondered this because of the indecisive state i was in, attempting to make the choice between dr pepper and orange fanta.
"I don't know what to get, I want them both '' I replied,still staring at the drinks. "ughhh why am I like this? '' I said, turning around with a stressed out pout.
"I don't know man but you gotta be quick cause Matt and Nick are already in the car" he said, blue eyes staring back at me.I hated that I was holding everyone up but I seriously just couldn't decide.
"what do you think i should get" i said finally just wanting to get out of the CVS.
"I think you should just get both," he said back with the smallest smirk.
"Well I can't afford to get both and my candy" I quickly replied matter of factly.
chris gave me a 'are you serious' look and answered my problem with "its fine ill pay for you".i will admit i do have like a pretty big crush on chris.so seeing him just immediately offer to pay for me made my cheeks heat up.to my demise chris noticed this reaction i had and sarcastically said "what you never had someone pay for you or something?"
"Well yea I mean not really, it's just never something that comes up when I'm with friends...''I said nervously, avoiding eye contact with the boy in front of me.
"well remind me next time we go to dinner"he replied as he began walking to the register at the tilt of his head.i followed after him with a large smile painted on my face.my heart began beating faster as i caught up to him until i was finally next to him.we had walked next to each other countless times but this time was different.this time i felt things i hadn't felt before.
Once we made it to the register I placed the drinks and snacks on the counter, Chris doing the same a second later.as the scrawny teenage boy began scanning the assortment of foods I saw Chris pull out his wallet out of the corner of my eye.his silver nails pulling out his card.
After we paid we grabbed the bags and left.the parking lot was surprisingly busy for it being so late at night.cars zooming past us as we waited on the sidewalk. While we waited for someone to let us cross Chris grabbed my hand on instinct and walked across the street with me at a regular pace.
My head had been down but I shot it up once I heard Nick scream "hurry up lovebirds, we've been waiting forever" from the car with his phone pointed at us.my face was heating up again at the name he had given us.
"oh fuck off"chris said back as we got closer to the car.i expected for him to have an upset look on his face but to my shock he was smiling that same stupid smile that made me fall in love with him.the one that makes me smile 10x more.
𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
word count:305
proofread:yupp
A/N:this is my first like writing thing so sorry if its bad :p
WARNINGS:mentions of reader being insecure about her body
𖦹 𖦹
y/n had always been jealous.even just the thought of her boyfriend talking to other girls made her fists clench and her head run wild with theories and worries.it wasn't her fault.sure she didn't mind when mutual friends that happened to be girls would hang out with him but when he went on world tours and did meet and greets she couldn't help but wish the girl he had met was her
she was the most beautiful girl he had ever met.she couldn't even compare to any ex or crush he's ever had.and even if she could,who was with him?
features that she thought were just there or dare he even say ugly look perfect to him.even when she felt as if her skin didn't fit right on her bones,or that her stomach wasn't flat enough,or that her body wasn't good enough for him, he let her know that he loved her body just the way it was.
so on the late nights where she was scrolling through tik tok,looking at videos of people thirsting over him.she would look up from her phone only to see him staring right back at her.admiring all the things he had seen a million times before but somehow never got sick of.this was why she never let her overthinking get to her.
none of the fangirls.old and young.could have what she had.he was hers,and that was his dream come true.
sendin love to all my poc creators out there!! y’all are killin it and “we” readers love the hard work and dedication you all push out for us continue to take your time and continue thriving and flourishing! we love you!!!!
he came in for a piercing. what he didn’t expect was the artist behind the gloves—sharp-eyed, quick-witted, and maybe his new favorite reason to come back. (987 words)
your shop sat just off the main street—half tattoo studio, half piercing parlor, with walls that held a little bit of grit and a whole lot of story. incense burned low in the corner, masking the sharp scent of disinfectant, and the constant hum of fluorescent lights buzzed beneath the soft thud of bass-heavy music filtering in from the back room. framed flash sheets covered the walls, inked with dragons, snakes, roses, and teeth. some were faded from sun, some fresh, some yours. all of them meant something to someone.
you leaned over the front desk, chin in your palm, scrolling idly through a list of upcoming appointments when the door chimed. you didn't look up right away—it wasn't rare to get walk-ins—but something about the shift in the room made your hand pause over the mouse.
he stepped inside like he wasn’t sure how loud to be. tall, square-shouldered, all muscle and nervous momentum. red hair pulled back in a headband that didn’t quite tame it, and eyes—bright, dark-lashed, darting around the space like they were trying to memorize it before it could change.
"uh—hi," he said. his voice cracked slightly on the first syllable, too loud for the low hum of the shop. "i’ve got an appointment?"
you looked up and found a boy who seemed more like a mountain in training. his cheeks flushed deeper when your gaze caught him.
"eyebrow at three?"
"yeah." he nodded, breath like it had been held since the sidewalk. "that’s me."
"cool. i’m your piercer today," you said, stepping out from behind the desk and gesturing toward the back. "i’m y/n."
he blinked, then smiled like he hadn’t expected introductions to be part of this. "eijiro. kirishima eijiro."
you gave him a nod and a smirk. "nice to meet you, eijiro. let’s make you bleed a little."
he trailed behind as you led him through the studio, past tattoo chairs draped in black leather and chrome trays lined with freshly sterilized tools. his eyes lingered on the art pinned above each station, pausing longer at a piece you'd done last week—three snakes coiled through the jaw of a skull.
"first piercing?" you asked, tugging on gloves.
"yeah." he scratched the back of his neck, sheepish. "figured it was time. always thought about it but... i dunno. guess i needed a push."
"it’s a good pick," you said, voice easy, hands already arranging your tray. "subtle. sharp. very you."
he blinked, then smiled. "you don’t even know me."
"don’t need to. i read people."
he laughed, louder this time. "and what do i read like?"
"someone who talks a big game and still gets nervous walking into places like this."
he opened his mouth, then closed it with a grin. "fair enough."
you motioned to the chair. "you’ll feel a quick pinch and then a little pressure. it’s not that bad. just don’t flinch."
"i won’t. promise." he slid into the chair like it was a test. his hands settled in his lap, though you could see the way he kept flexing his fingers.
you moved around him with steady precision. sterilized clamp. single-use needle in its packaging. mirror nearby. you sprayed his brow with antiseptic and caught his flinch out of the corner of your eye—not from pain, but from cold.
he glanced at you. "you do tattoos too?"
"yep. mostly blackwork. fine line, sometimes flash. i draw all my own sheets."
"that snake piece on the way in—that was yours?"
you nodded. "you've got a good eye."
he flushed again, red creeping across his ears now. "guess i’m just a fan of good linework."
you leaned in close, brushing his hair from his temple. his skin was warm under your gloves. close like this, he smelled like clean laundry and just a little sweat, like maybe he’d psyched himself up before walking through the door.
"keep your head still. i’m gonna mark you."
you felt his breath hitch as you pressed the pen lightly to his skin. you could feel the tension in his shoulders—not fear, exactly. more like anticipation wound tight beneath muscle.
"you alright?"
he nodded. "just thinking."
"about what?"
"if this actually makes me cooler or if i’ll just look like i lost a bet."
you smiled. "only one way to find out."
you lined the clamp up gently. "deep breath in."
he inhaled, and you pierced through his skin.
a second passed. then two.
you pulled the needle through, swapped it for the jewelry, and clipped the hoop into place. he didn’t move, not even when you wiped away the smallest dot of blood.
"that’s it?" he blinked at you, like he expected to be bleeding out.
"that’s it."
he touched the edge of the new ring, careful, like it might still sting.
"damn. kinda expected to cry or something."
"give it five hours. you might regret it."
he laughed and stood, slowly, adjusting to the sudden lightness in his posture.
you peeled your gloves off with a soft snap, tossed them in the bin, and reached for the aftercare sheet. when you turned back around, he was holding something in his hand.
a post-it. yellow. handwriting a little slanted, a little rushed.
he stuck it to the counter next to the tip jar. his number written in black ink on the paper.
"in case i want the other side done," he said casually. "or, you know, maybe a snake tattoo. or maybe coffee."
you tilted your head, one eyebrow raised. "you just hand out your number to everyone you meet under bright lights and sharp metal?"
he grinned, sheepish and bold all at once. "only when they’re the prettiest person i’ve ever met."
he waved over his shoulder, and the bell above the door chimed as he left, hair catching the light like a flame, and you were still staring at the post-it note—still smiling—when the door eased shut behind him.
HII!!!
i loveloveLOVE ur smau’s, could u do one for katsuki bakugo? enemies to lovers ?? the storyline and stuff can be anything u want.
pls feel free to add any details u want 😭😭
and no pressure !!!
you're vice captain to his captain on the soccer team. working together was never the problem. staying out of each other's way was.
keigo takami x reader smau model au
an: very short. next one will (hopefully) be longer (it will also take longer. get ready for another two week wait chat)
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tag list (open): @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @seijuroww @personally4runa @2dmenfr
dividers from: @saradika-graphics
sorry this took so long for how short it is (it's literally just a slightly longer trailer holy) but i'm gonna try to do better next time! :)
This is an Eddie Munson x male reader. will have multiple chapters, happy ending, not slow burn, mutual crushes, bottom! reader top! Eddie. This story is mostly fluff. This may be inaccurate to the show
Warnings: drug use, alcohol use,eventual smut, occasional angst, swearing, THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SPICEY FANTASY
Minors DNI
I awaken to light shining in through the window and thinking I'm in My room at home I sit up and stretch before I rub my eyes and look around noticing that I'm not at home and am infact on Eddie fucking Munsons couch... I look towards the clock that reads 10 o'clock AM I look down again and notice the pillow and blanket blushing "he... brought a pillow and blanket out to me?" I say to myself in a whisper. I hear a chuckle from the kitchen and get up off the couch stretching again before walking into their kitchen. There I see eddie pouring two bowls of cereal. "Mornin sunshine" he says looking up at me with a smile. I blush and look away
"M-morning Eddie" I say walking over to him. "What time did I fall asleep eds?" I ask taking the bowl of cereal he offered me. "Honey combs?" I question smiling it was my favorite cereal. He smiles and nods coming to sit at the table.
"You fell asleep around 2:30 I think I was gonna wake you but you looked so cute sleeping on my shoulder~" he says to which I choke on the air around me blushing wildly.
"I'm SO sorry I had no idea I'd passed out like that!" I say panicking trying to make sure he didn't think I was weird. He shakes his head laughing.
"It's fine pumpkin. I really didn't mind, as I said you're really cute when you're sleeping, well you're cute all the time but even more so when you sleep" he says apparently not hearing the words coming out of his face. I blush and look at him as he talks so sweet about me. I feel my heart swell as his eyes light up and then he looks at me blushing.
"You're... actually a really sweet guy Eddie" I say with a smile looking back to my cereal eating while my heart beats out if my chest. I can feel him watching me and the blush creeps up to my ears then down my neck.
"You mean that sweetheart?" He says with a smile in his voice I turn and nod up at him with red painting my face. He smiles and takes a few bites while I go back to my cereal. God I liked him... I'd liked him since my first day at Hawkins and liked him even more now. I knew he'd never like me back, I mean how could he... I'm just me. And he's Eddie fucking Munson. He's probably not even gay I'd seen him talk to Chrissy Cunningham a few times and I'm certain that he likes her. And yet here I am in his house, eating his cereal, and getting complimented by him. I keep thinking these self depreciating thoughts until he speaks up again. "You got plans today? Cause see I was wondering if you'd wanna hang out... I have band practice today and we always love having an audience.. and just I don't want to watch you walk into your house yet.." He says nervously and I look over at him wildly
"M-me?" I say nervous to which he turns and nods blushing I blush and look at his eyes before looking away quickly "n-no I don't have plans but I need to change clothes..." I say smiling. He smiles giddily
"YOU CAN WEAR MY CLOTHES!" He yells already standing. "Come on let's go find something that'll fit." He says dragging me to his room. A room that smells just like him and only him. I look around breathing In deeply. He starts digging through his clothes holding different shirts up to me excitedly finally finding one that looks like it'll fit and handing it to me. I smile at him internally dying. He's letting ME where HIS clothes... Holy shit. He then moves to pants to which I shake my head
"I-I think I can just wear my pants eds" I say letting the nickname slip. He smiles and looks at me nodding.
"You're right, don't think I have jeans that'll fit you sweetheart~" he says with a smirk placing his hands on my hips. I blush again and look away and he chuckles letting go. "Go ahead and go to the bathroom and change he says with his signature smile pushing me towards the bathroom in the hall. Once inside I pull off my sweatshirt and pull on his t shirt basking in the way the fabric felt against my skin the only thought in my head being "Eddie Munson wears this shirt to school all the time...." I look at myself in the mirror and how the shirt was a little too big for me before stepping out of the bathroom smacking right into Eddie's chest. He laughs placing a hand on my back as I step back blushing. "You okay pumpkin?" He asks trying to make eye contact with me. "I was just about to knock and ask if you were ready to go yet hun sorry for making you run into me." He says apologetically to which I nod
"Just let me get shoes then I'll be ready to go." I say with a bright smile. And he grins jumping around. I giggle and follow him inti the livingroom where I get my beat up chuck Taylors and put then on tying them securely and standing back up. He holds the door open and we're off to get in his van. Once on the road he turns to me and starts talking again. "My bandmates can get a little intense and.... gross. so if they start asking you gross questions and getting in your face just pretend you don't hear them... they're gonna be weird." He says looking back to the road as he warns me about his bands apparent bad behavior.
"Yes sir." I joke laughing. He tenses and looks over at me which I see out of the corner of my eye as I watch the road around us. He shifts in his seat as we pull into the driveway of someone's house and park. Eddie opens his door and gets out as one of his band mates runs up and fist bumps him. They start talking as I get out and close the van door standing there. It's then that I realize what I got myself into and remember how shy I am. I stand there frozen contemplating getting back into the van just as Eddie locks it. I groan standing there watching the ground as a pair of arms slink around my torso and I'm lifted off the ground. I squeal and thrash around before I'm sat back on the ground Eddie and his friend laughing.
"Sorry pumpkin, just thought you looked cute~" he says as they walk off to the garage that I only just now realized was full of instruments and that Eddie had a guitar strapped to his back. I stand there frozen for a little longer dreading this before beginning to walk over to the garage. Eddie waves me over which I gladly accept as he's the only one here that even know a little bit about as I walk over he pulls me to his chest and presents me with his arms outstretched "I bring a sacrifice! He's here to be our audience. This is (Y/N) he's mine." He says as the band Rolls their collective eyes.
"Yeah whatever Munson, let's just get started!" One of them says to which I hear Eddie pout and he places his chin on my head.
"Come on (Y/N)." He says leading you to a chair in the sun and sitting you down. "Look if Jeff comes and talks to you just pretend you're not there, okay babe?" He asks with both hands on my shoulders looking me in the eyes. I blush trying to avoid eye contact but smile regardless.
"Okay Edds." I say shivering as the breeze blows against my skin. He smiles shedding his jacket and handing it to me.
"Here princess." He says patting me on the head walking away to go start practice. He doesn't swing that way he doesn't swing that way he doesn't swing that way. I berate myself mentally until I'm drawn out of my thoughts by the first few notes of a song I don't recognize. I soon find myself watching Eddie's hands and skillful fingers watching him and how the guitar responds to his strumming. Oh what those fingers could do to me. How they'd feel wrapped around me and the cold metals stark contrast to my hot skin. How he'd feel pressed against me... how he'd feel inside of me. Oh God how wonderful that would be, I wish for it to happen. How i wish to confess how much I like him and get it over with. But deep down I know I never will. I'll never get the chance to be with him. He's just flirty, and he's probably sweet to everyone. Why would he like me? He's Eddie Munson for fuck sake. And I'm just.. me, (Y/N, L/N) a little gay bookworm from (STATE). I'm interrupted in my thoughts as a hands claps down on my shoulder causing my head to snap up in surprise as one of Eddie's friends looks down at me.
"Im Jeff, I saw you watchin Eddster really really hard, what you got a crush on him or somethin." He asks to which I look up at him wide eyed blushing.
"W-what?! No I I wasn't watching him I I was listening to you guys play" I say looking away unable to make eye contact.
"Yeah okay whatever, Eddie has this monster crush on you man. I'm sure of it. He never shuts up about you ever since you moved here its been nothing but longing stares and (Y/N) this and (Y/N) that." He says flicking my forhead to which I scoff and look away crossing my arms.
"I assure you he doesn't like me. He's just flir-" another hand gently lays on my shoulder causing me to pause and look over to the other being seeing eddie and immediately smiling.
"Hey pumpkin, it's time to go. Practice is over" I smile and look up at him nodding confused as to how practice could have gone by so fast.
"How long did ya'll practice?" I ask confused. Recieving a look from Jeff as he walks off to go pack up his stuff.
"Like an hour... were you not paying attention?" He asks pouting to which I quickly reach up and pet his head
"Ofcourse I was I guess I just zoned out really hard..." I say petting him like a dog. When I realize what I'm doing I pull my hand back and he smiles. Pulling me up out of the chair and into a bone crushing hug. Pulling me towards the van. I giggle play fighting against him while the band watches us interact. As we get to the van he smiles and opens the door for me
"After you milord.." He says motioning to the car I giggle and hop it letting him close the door. He goes around to his side and hops in aswell starting thevengine and pulling away from the house. "Have fun love?" He asks to which I hum a positive. He grins and keeps driving. "Hungry? Or do you want me to take you home?" He asks looking over to me briefly.
"I gotta go home.." I trail off pouting. He nods understanding.
"What's your address baby?" He asks, I tell him and he drives that way. "You're mom's probably worried sick that you didn't come home last night." he says smiling as he pulls up outside my house. It's a two story with a nice yard and a big red door. I get out of the car and wave to him as I close the door behind him and hurry through my front door closing it behind me and sliding down to the ground against it on the other side sighing. I wish I could just tell him... but it doesn't look like I'll ever be able to do that. I push myself up and head upstairs to my bedroom closing the door behind me and looking down realizing I'm wearing his shirt.
"Shit..." I say outloud looking down from my window to see if he was still out there so I could give it back to him. But as fate would have it he's gone. I throw myself back onto my bed and pull out a book from my bedside table and begin to read until evening when my mom gets home from work. I go downstairs and help her cook dinner and then shower and go to bed dreaming of Eddie "the freak" Munson.
About two weeks go by of this. Meeting after school to study twice a week and going to his band practices. By this point the two of us have become pretty close almost always hanging out. Which is not helping my feelings for him. They're growing by the day and at this point I can say I'm completely in love with him. Too bad he's not gay.
Chapter 4 - What he won’t say
Summary: You see him again on your first day of college. Fuck. Toji Zenin has been the bane of your existence since your first day of kindergarten. Over the 15 years you’ve had the “pleasure” of knowing him, he’s made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell. From chopping off your hair in kindergarten to pushing you into a pond on your first day of high school, Toji has done it all. You’d always thought he would choose a college far away from you, but as it has always been, fate came to kick your ass. Hard.
warnings: cursing, sexual language, mentions of bullying
an: thank you guys so much for the overwhelming amount of support and love 💕 i truly appreciate all of you ! If you haven’t already: Please check out this post. Love you lots 💋💋
taglist:
@jinxiewritings
{chapter 3} ; {next}
Me as soon as the fic mentions “Y/N” only for it to be described as an OC, being extremely submissive and childish or uses some dumbass pet-name like “puppy”🥀🥀
an : i got this inspiration when i listened to the song and heard the hook part, and this plot just popped up in my head, so this is just smut and bad grammar. i know my grammar was bad. i'm gonna use the grammar corrector before posting this, but just so you know, english is not my first language.
we don't gotta be in love, no i don't gotta be the one, no i just wanna be one of your girls tonight
imagine, you, the daughter of a millionaire in a capitol, were invited to a party where, of course, Finnick was there since he's getting paid (or invited?) to be here, and of course he's a star, a shining star, stealing everyone's attention the first moment he steps in.
your eyes can't even leave his figure—his tall, muscular figure and you know damn well you want him, just like any girl does. i mean who wouldn't? but you also know that this is not love. it's a want, a desire. you just need him, his body, his service. it's clear that you did not want him as your lover or groom, to you, you only need him to be in your bed just tonight. a simple one-night stand thing.
so you did get what you wanted. his hand on your hips, his back against yours, while he whispers praise into your ear. "you're such a good girl" "you did it so well" "you feel so good" that goddamn thing you know he probably said that to others since it was to make his customer feel good and you did not care at all. it makes you feel good, and that's enough. you don't care who got to hear that from him too, this moment is just you and him.
his cock was inside you, making you feel like heaven, his thrust made you see stars. now you understand why he gets called 'Capitol Sweetheart' because he really knows how to make his customers satisfied.
you moan—the loudest moan that ever made it way out of your throat—no one has ever made you feel as good as Finnick did. just from the way he gave you an oral in the beginning, it was enough to make you know this night would be replaying in your head for a long time.
his hand found its way to your clit, making you feel like you were going to explode in any minute. his hot breath against your skin and how he said "cum for me, darling" were just so perfect. his thrust fastened as if he knew you're so close to climax, and he's right, just having his hard cock inside you was almost enough to make you cum right there, and Finnick knew that too, but of course, since it was his service, he's continued fucking you even though he knows you won't last long.
and when this night ended, he let you hold him until the sunrise (another customer service for sure), and when you did say goodbye to him, he just walked out with that fucking smirk on his face. getting to know your secret was probably his favorite way to get paid from his customer, after all.
( another an : i feel so guilty writing this, but i hope you can understand what i'm trying to write lol. my first smut in english and it's already so fucked up lmao )
The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.
That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.
English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3
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“You’re shitting me right?” Bakugou’s voice suddenly came above the whole training ground. But he knew somewhere it was true, cause to be fair the evidence was adding up and looking right at him.
Drax ignored him, as he kneeled before you. His horns as black as the night sky poking out of his head, a mark covering one of his eyes as he looked up at you. “You’re highness is finally at the certain age that she will discover herself fully. But its not safe anymore princess, you should come wit-“
“Woah woah woah, I’m sorry does it look like I’m going to come with you?” You spoke out, taking a step back from everything and everyone, panic coming to the surface. “ cause first you tell me, my whole life is a lie, second of I’m apparently a danger to society and possibly the universe—“
You were reaching for your back, two heavy pair of black wings sitting beautifully on your back. “And lastly, get these things off me-! What’s happening-!” Your breath fell quickly, as you kept clawing at your back, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he just called you “your highness”
Drax finally stood, slow and careful, taking a cautious step toward you. His voice lowered into something almost melodic, steady like a lullaby. “Breathe, Princess. Please. The wings won’t hurt you — they’re part of you.”
But the word Princess snapped you right back into that same spiral, making the air feel even thinner.
“I’m not a princess!” you shouted, voice cracking under the weight of your fear. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, uninvited and hot, but you blinked them back, pulling your knees tightly to your chest. “I’m not— I’m not anything. I don’t want this.”
For a long moment, the field was quiet except for your uneven breathing.
“You are a stranger-! And If-“ You couldn’t finish that sentence, tears streaming slightly down your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away. “The wings need to go-! I can’t go on like this-! I-“
Bakugou stepped in, closing the space between you with a firm, grounding presence. His hand didn’t touch you, but hovered close — steady, solid, and unshakable.
“Hey.” His voice wasn’t sharp like usual, but low and commanding enough to cut through the storm spinning in your head. “Breathe, idiot.”
You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you felt the shift in his tone. He inhaled slow and deep, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it in a controlled breath. “Come on. Match me.”
Your chest was tight, your breathing ragged, but you tried. Shaky at first, shallow — but with each breath Bakugou took, you mirrored it a little closer, the panic loosening its grip, just enough for your head to clear.
Once your breathing steadied, Drax finally moved, slow and careful, giving you space but speaking with calm certainty. “The wings don’t have to stay out, Princess,” he said softly, the word still foreign and heavy on your ears. “They only appear when your instincts wake... when your blood remembers. I can teach you to control it.”
You hesitated, blinking through the tears, your voice barely above a whisper. “Control it?”
Drax nodded once, lifting a hand, palm open and steady. “Close your eyes,” he instructed. “Focus on the space between your shoulder blades. Feel the weight... and then imagine pulling it inward. Like folding a blanket — slow, but firm.”
You took a deep breath, imagined it being Nezu who wrapped an soft blanket around you. Your shoulder blades slowly relaxed, your body slumping cause of all the adrenaline, as your vision began to blur a little.
“That’s it..” Drax smiled softly, as he watched your wings slowly fold itself up and into your body with some small magic. “You’ve done amazing your highness..” He spoke to her softly, as he saw aizawa and All might run over to them finally.
Aizawa’s hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment longer, steady and grounding, but his sharp gaze never left Drax. The tension in his posture wasn’t from the wings — it was from the stranger standing too calmly in the middle of U.A.’s training field, acting like he belonged there.
Drax straightened as Aizawa slowly rose to his feet, his scarf subtly shifting like it was ready to strike if it had to.
“You talk like you’ve been watching her for a long time.” Aizawa’s voice was even, but the edge beneath it was clear as day. “And I don’t remember your name on the guest list.”
Drax met his gaze without flinching, that same respectful calm settling over his features. “I’ve watched over her from a distance. My duty lies with her safety, not your school’s permission.” His words weren’t sharp, but they were firm.
Aizawa’s brow twitched slightly, his instinctive distrust sharpening. “And what exactly are you protecting her from?” His eyes flicked to you, still pale and shaky, and then back to Drax. “Or should I be asking — who sent you?”
Bakugou, still hovering nearby, tensed at that. His gaze darted to Drax, the same question lingering silently on his face, though he’d never admit it out loud.
Drax clasped his hands behind his back, glancing toward the horizon for a moment before answering. “There are forces older than your heroes and your villains. Forces that have been waiting for her to awaken.” He turned his head back to Aizawa. “If I wished her harm, I wouldn’t have helped her control the wings. You know that.”
Aizawa’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “Maybe. Or maybe you need her alive for something worse.”
The air between them thickened, the unspoken standoff cutting through the fading tension. All Might stepped in then, placing a hand lightly on Aizawa’s arm.
“Eraserhead,” All Might said softly, “he did help her. At least for now.”
Aizawa didn’t relax, but his eyes flicked back to you, your body still slumped against the training ground, barely holding it together. He let out a slow breath through his nose.
“This conversation isn’t over,” he muttered, eyes returning to Drax with a silent promise. “You’re coming with us for questioning. U.A. doesn’t trust strangers.”
Drax gave a small bow of his head. “Understandable. I will answer what I can.”
Bakugou shot a glance at you, watching your barely-there strength flicker like a dying flame. His voice was low, but it cut through the heavy air.
“Tch. Looks like you’ve got a lot of explaining to do, horn-head.”
Drax’s only response was a quiet nod, eyes lingering on you — as if the answers he carried weren’t going to be easy for anyone to hear.
You quietly reached out for All might, as everything became a little dizzy. “Dad..I-..” She almost fell but he caught her. “That’s the shock of someone who just experienced transformation.” Drax spoke gently.
Aizawa’s sharp gaze flicked to Drax, still watching him like a hawk even as he hovered near your side. “She’s not your concern anymore,” Aizawa said coolly. “You’ve done enough. We’ll handle it from here.”
But Drax didn’t flinch, his attention resting on you, the faintest flicker of something like guilt hidden behind his calm expression. “She’s more than you know,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “And this is only the beginning.”
All Might’s hold on you tightened slightly, as if the weight of those words settled in his chest too. He exchanged a look with Aizawa, silent but loaded, before carefully scooping you into his arms.
“We’ll talk later,” Aizawa said to Drax, his voice final, sharp as steel. “Right now, her well-being comes first.”
Drax gave a slow nod, stepping back, finally yielding to the unspoken boundary.
You fell in and out of consciousness, and the last thing you remember was a feeling of warm hands lifting you up and holding you close.
———
“Fascinating..” Nezu spoke in his office, as you slept on the couch in the same room. “I knew my little light was special, but woah..” He gently stroked her hair. He looked over at drax, as bakugou has been sent back to his room, making him take a step back. “Tell me everything.” He finally spoke to Drax.
Drax’s expression didn’t waver, but there was the faintest crack of hesitation before he finally spoke.
“She is not what you thought her to be,” he began quietly, his voice deep but controlled. “Her blood is older than quirks, older than your society, older than humanity’s current place in the world.”
Nezu’s ears twitched slightly, but he said nothing, letting Drax continue.
“She is the daughter of Eve — the Eve,” he said, letting the name hang heavy in the air. “The same one written into your oldest human texts, the mother of mankind. Her bloodline... was never fully human to begin with. And her father—”
Drax paused, his throat tightening slightly, though his face remained composed.
“Her father is Lucifer.”
Nezu’s fingers steepled slowly, the weight of the revelation washing over him like cold rain. His mind raced, analyzing every oddity, every unexplained flicker of power or instinct you’d ever shown — and now it all clicked into place.
“So, the Morning Star and the First Woman,” Nezu mused aloud, the words almost surreal. “I assume that makes you more than just an observer.”
Drax straightened slightly, the shadows on his face deepening under the room’s dim lights.
“I am Lucifer’s right hand,” he said simply. “I was tasked with watching over her. When her time of awakening arrived, I was to retrieve her and bring her to safety. Away from those who would use her... or destroy her.”
Nezu’s dark eyes narrowed, sharp as broken glass.
“And you let her live her entire life here, unaware of any of this.”
“She was safer not knowing,” Drax answered without flinching. “Knowledge draws attention. If the other realms — Heaven, Hell, or worse — learned what she was before her wings surfaced, she wouldn’t have survived long enough to understand her own power.”
Nezu leaned back slightly in his chair, gaze flicking toward your sleeping form. His voice softened, but the steel in it remained.
“She is not a pawn. Not for Lucifer, not for you. Not for anyone.”
Drax bowed his head slightly, his voice steady.
“She is not a pawn. She is a queen.”
Nezu’s lips pressed into a thin line, the reality settling on his chest like iron. After a long pause, he nodded once.
“There is this ancient prophecy surrounding heaven and hell. One where a child was born, one so powerful she could rule over two realms, eliminating everyone in their way.” Drax looked outside the window of UA. Seeing the young man screaming at the very rightfully suspicious teacher.
“This is not her first lifetime.. Her soul is centuries old, but every time they tried getting rid of her, she just reincarnated back onto earth.” Drax looked back at Nezu, his expression so serious that Nezu’s heart began to race. “This is the first lifetime we were able to safe her when she was a child.”
Nezu’s eyes narrowed, absorbing the weight of this revelation. “A reincarnating soul… so, she’s been reborn over and over again?”
“Yes,” Drax said, his voice heavy with the centuries of watching and waiting. “Each time she returns, she’s born into a new life, with no memory of who she once was. But the moment she reaches the age of awakening, the moment her true power surfaces, they come for her. Heaven. Hell. Everyone.”
Nezu’s mind whirred, his small form suddenly brimming with questions. "And you — you've been watching her this whole time, knowing all of this?"
Drax’s gaze softened, but there was no warmth in it. Only the cold, relentless truth.
“I’ve been her guardian,” he replied quietly. “Since the day she was born. I was bound to protect her, to guide her when the time came. And this time... it was different. This time, we managed to save her before her awakening. She’s been living a normal life, thinking she’s human.”
Nezu’s eyes flicked to you again, his thoughts racing. "But now that she’s awakened... now what?"
Drax’s jaw tightened. "Now, she must learn to control her power before they find her again. And they will. The clock is already ticking."
“And that means she has to come with us. To hell.” Drax continued, looking at Nezu and then gently gazed at you. “This was not an easy decision for his majesty himself. But he loved her so much he had to let her go at the right time.”
Drax slowly stood over nezu, glaring slightly as his own horns on his head became slightly bigger. “Never. Ever. Suggest his majesty let her go easily.”
Nezu didn’t flinch, though his expression tightened. The tension in the room was almost unbearable, the weight of centuries of loyalty and authority pressing down like a storm cloud.
Drax’s eyes softened ever so slightly, his voice returning to a quiet seriousness. “You don’t understand what it means to care for someone the way he does. Lucifer has watched over her for lifetimes. He’s waited. And now, she is his responsibility. Not just the prophecy. But her. She is his heart.”
Nezu remained still, his eyes never leaving Drax. He understood the depths of this commitment, even if he didn’t fully agree with it. He was used to playing games of strategy, but this... this was something far more personal, something that had stakes that could shatter everything.
“I understand,” Nezu said after a moment, his voice cool, but there was an edge to it now — something heavier, more deliberate. “But don’t mistake me. I am not so naïve as to believe I can simply let her go without understanding the consequences. Lucifer’s wishes don’t dictate everything here. She is here now. She is one of us, and we will protect her. If that means keeping her away from you, or from Hell, we’ll find a way.”
“He never implied for her to go alone.” Drax gracefully made a small circle in the middle of the air, grabbing a small book out of the pocket between space and time. “We are able to travel through dimensions. Only the highest form of Royalty and his majesty’s closest companions are being teaches this technique.”
He held the book up, looking at Nezu. “She will learn of to travel through dimensions, sharpen her powers and learn the rules of the universe.” He gently laid the book down on the desk. “His majesty told me she can choose three extra people to come with her. One Adult, two kids.”
Nezu’s brow arched slightly at that, his curiosity sharpening. “Three companions?” he repeated quietly. “And these companions would be permitted to follow her into Hell? To train beside her?”
Drax nodded, his expression neutral but his eyes glinting with something sharper. “Yes. His majesty believes in choice — even if the world doesn’t. She will decide who they are. No one else.”
Nezu’s gaze flicked toward you, still resting quietly on the couch. The room felt smaller now, as if the walls themselves had absorbed the gravity of the decision looming in the near future.
“She’s still a child,” Nezu murmured, almost to himself. “The responsibility you're handing her will shape her forever.”
Drax’s voice softened, but didn’t lose its weight. “She was born with that responsibility. Now, at least, she’ll have a say in who stands beside her.”
Nezu leaned back, finally resting his paw against the desk, but not touching the book. His sharp mind was already calculating the possibilities, the risks, the consequences — and the faces of those likely to be chosen.
“She’ll need time to understand,” Nezu said after a moment. “And we’ll be ready when she does.”
Drax tilted his head slightly, his voice low. “Time isn’t something we have much of, Principal.”
The two of them sat in the heavy silence, the ancient book resting between them like an unspoken contract — your future already unfolding, even as you slept, blissfully unaware.
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A/N: A little shorter than usual, it's been really busy these past few weeks, but don't worry I don't let you guys without another chapter! Enjoy, cause I'm cooking ;)
The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.
That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.
English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3
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“This isn’t good.” A god like present closed a small screen, overseeing the situation that has happened the last few days. Small locks of hair floating across their face, as they gently pushed it out of the way, tucking it behind their ear. Suddenly, an Angel that must have been 5 feet shorter than the being before her, quickly came running towards her.
“Your Majesty!” She spoke in a hastily tone, her breath has quickened as she had been flying as fast as she could. “It’s her! She found out-!” Quick to wip their head, they summoned the one they were talking about. Suddenly, white chains surrounded a screaming woman, as they have trashed around.
“LET ME GO!” She demanded, her hair getting caught in the chains, burning it off. “YOU SAID SHE WAS DEAD AND MADE IT TO HELL.” She yelled, scratching her knees as she launched herself at the inhuman being, who was looking at her with pity.
“I didn’t think she was. He hid her well.” They spoke in a monotone voice, pulling up an monitor again, smiling at themselves. “Doesn’t mean I can’t kill them yet, she isn’t human after all.” “YOU MONSTER! THAT’S MY DAUGHTER!!”
The woman spat, as the godly being stomped their foot hard, silencing them. “SHE IS THE DEATH OF HEAVEN AND EARTH. She must be stopped, or would you rather have your precious husband find out with who you had an affair with? He will not take it so kindly as I did.”
“So what? I never loved him, I was only made to be a toy. I can be so much more than that, but YOU never gave me the chance. I sinned but i’ve been forgiven but I still live in this FUCKING PRISON!” She ran at it, but got caught back by the chains.
“ENOUGH.” The deity stood up, hovering over her. It looked slightly to the right, where one of its right hand looked directly at them. “Michael. Get one of the executors to sign up and get down at earth, you know what to do.”
Michael vanished in a cascade of golden light, leaving only a faint shimmer in his place. The divine presence turned their gaze back to the woman bound in searing white chains, her eyes filled with both fury and despair. “You will regret this,”
she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice raw with pain. “You claim to be righteous, but all you do is destroy what you fear. You are no god—just a coward behind a throne.” The deity’s expression remained unreadable. Slowly, they descended, their feet barely touching the celestial marble beneath them.
Their presence alone was enough to make the woman’s body tremble, the sheer weight of their power pressing down on her like an invisible force. “I am what is necessary,” they said, their voice devoid of emotion. “And you… you are a mistake that should have never been.”
“HE WILL FIND YOU. SAMAEL WILL—” Suddenly, a loud smack echoed through the kingdom, silencing the defiant cry. The force sent ripples through the celestial halls, as if the very foundations of heaven trembled in response.
“Do not bring up his name.” The deity’s voice was low, dangerous. Their hand shot forward, seizing the woman’s jaw with an iron grip, forcing her to meet their gaze. “Know your place, Eve. First woman of men kind.”
Eve panted, her breath ragged, yet her eyes burned with defiance. The deity’s grip did not loosen. Instead, they leaned in, their expression cold, detached.
“She will die,” they whispered, their tone like the final toll of a bell. “She will die because she is a venom to heaven. She will never exist again.”
Eve thrashed against the chains, her body trembling with rage and grief. “You… you’re making a mistake,” she rasped. “If you do this, nothing will hold him back. Nothing.”
The deity released her with a shove, letting her collapse onto the marble floor. “Then let him come,” they said, turning away. “Samael has no power here. And soon, neither will she.”
———
“Are you dumb or are you actually playing with me?” Bakugou grumbled annoyed, as his pencil ticked against your paper. “There is no way you think this is the correct answer.”
You rolled your eyes, finding his attitude more exhausting than anything. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you suddenly a math genius now?” you shot back, crossing your arms.
Bakugou scoffed, his crimson eyes narrowing. “I don’t need to be a genius to know you messed up basic algebra, dumbass.” He tapped the eraser of his pencil aggressively against the mistake.
After the incident a couple of months ago, Bakugou and you weirdly grew slightly closer. Oh, you two still went head-to-head over everything, but you also felt that Bakugou could at least tolerate your existence now. Maybe even respect it, in his own gruff way.
You huffed and snatched the paper back. “Alright, smartass, why don’t you show me how it’s done then?”
A cocky smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Watch and learn.” He leaned over, quickly scribbling the correct equation down with almost unnecessary force. His shoulder brushed against yours, and though it was unintentional, neither of you moved away.
“See? Not that hard.” He shot you a triumphant look, waiting for your reaction.
You stared at the numbers on the page before sighing. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. You win this round.”
“Damn right I do.” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed smugly, but there was something softer in his expression now, something almost amused.
You looked up and chuckled, throwing your eraser at his head, which he dodged with ease. “Get that smug smirk off your face.”
Bakugou scoffed, reaching for the eraser where it had landed. “Tch. You’re just mad I’m right.” He tossed it back at you, hitting you square in the forehead.
“Ow!” you glared, rubbing the spot as he smirked triumphantly.
“That’s payback.”
Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but grin, shaking your head as you turned back to your paper. Maybe studying with Bakugou wasn’t so bad after all.
Just as you were about to refocus, a shadow loomed over the two of you. Aizawa stood there, arms crossed, his tired eyes fixed on you both.
“You two. Training ground. Now.” His voice left no room for argument.
You blinked. “Huh? Why?”
“Private session,” Aizawa said simply. “And Bakugou, you’re coming too. You’re the only one who can snap her out of it if things go south.”
Bakugou frowned. “Tch. What do you mean by that?”
Aizawa didn’t answer, already walking away.
You exchanged a glance with Bakugou, confusion and a bit of unease settling between you. Training wasn’t unusual, but this felt different. More serious. And the way Aizawa had said ‘if things go south’ didn’t exactly ease your nerves.
With a sigh, you stood up. “Guess we better get moving.”
Bakugou clicked his tongue, shoving his hands in his pockets. “This better not be a waste of my damn time.”
But as the two of you made your way to the training grounds, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to change.
When you arrived, Aizawa was already waiting, arms still crossed, his usual tired expression laced with something more serious.
“All Might will be here in a second,” he said, eyes flicking between you and Bakugou. “Since it was proven my quirk isn’t able to stop you from going crazy, pure strength will have to do.” He gestured for you both to change into your hero suits.
You swallowed hard, exchanging another look with Bakugou before nodding. Whatever this was, it wasn’t just another training session. Something bigger was at play.
Moments later, clad in your hero suits, you stood across from Bakugou in the designated training area. Aizawa gave a simple nod before stepping back, letting the two of you take center stage.
“Alright, you two,” he called. “Nothing lethal. Control is the goal here.”
Bakugou cracked his knuckles, smirking. “Hope you can keep up, dumbass.”
You grinned, fire flickering at your fingertips. “Just try not to get burned.”
The moment Aizawa gave the signal, Bakugou lunged forward, explosions propelling him towards you. You sidestepped, barely dodging his initial strike, and retaliated with a burst of flames, forcing him to leap back. The heat radiated around you, more controlled than before, the fire curling around your arms without scorching wildly.
“You’re not flailing like last time,” Bakugou noted, blocking a fire-coated punch with his gauntlet. He shoved you back with a controlled explosion, enough to send you skidding but not enough to knock you off your feet.
You smirked, rolling your shoulders. “Maybe I’ve been paying attention.”
“Doubt it.” He shot forward again, this time feinting to the left before blasting up, aiming to come down with a powerful strike. You responded instinctively, flames surging beneath your feet to propel you upward, meeting him midair. The clash of fire and explosions sent a shockwave through the training ground, but neither of you backed down.
For the first time, you weren’t just reacting. You were fighting with precision, your fire bending to your will rather than raging uncontrollably. Bakugou noticed it too, his smirk widening as he deflected another burst of flames.
“Not bad,” he admitted begrudgingly. “But you’re still not beating me.”
You laughed, feeling the exhilaration course through your veins. “We’ll see about that.”
Aizawa watched from the sidelines, arms still crossed, his sharp eyes catching every movement. Alright arrived a few moments later, looking over at the two fighting. “Are you sure we should let her train so soon?” He questioned, worry definitely readable on his face.
“For some reason, bakugou keeps her grounded.” Aizawa answered him back. “I don’t know why, I don’t know how he does it, but he really does it.”
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed behind his capture weapon as he watched the spar unfold. Every movement was precise—refined. Your fire, once unpredictable and wild, now curled with intention. Controlled heat. Purpose.
But it wasn’t just the fire. It was you.
You didn’t hesitate like you used to. You didn’t let fear or doubt lead your steps. And every time your focus wavered, even slightly, Bakugou was there—charging, countering, snapping you back into the moment like a human anchor forged in explosions and spite.
“Tch,” Aizawa muttered under his breath. “I’ve seen pros with less chemistry.”
All Might leaned on the railing beside him, arms crossed, a contemplative look in his eyes. “I always knew Bakugou had raw potential… but he’s changed, hasn’t he? It’s not just about strength anymore.”
Aizawa gave a slight nod, watching as Bakugou barked something at you mid-air, the usual edge to his tone slightly dulled by—what was that? Encouragement?
“Whatever it is,” Aizawa said, “it’s keeping her from losing herself. That’s worth something.”
Your feet landed hard against the ground, heat pulsing up through your legs. Smoke curled around you, the aftershock of your last clash with Bakugou crackling through the air like static.
“Focus!” he shouted, voice cutting through the haze. “You’re drifting again!”
You snarled but nodded, brushing sweat from your brow with a swipe of your wrist. “I’m fine, damn it.”
“Didn’t look like it,” he muttered, already launching at you again. His explosions were tighter now, less destructive and more directional, meant to challenge—not hurt.
You ducked a blast, then twisted around him, flames lacing through your fingers as you skated the edge of control. The fire was hotter than ever—singing with adrenaline—but it obeyed.
Barely.
Bakugou turned mid-air, landing hard in a crouch. “That’s it,” he barked, breathless. “Make it yours. Don’t let it control you.”
You charged him, heat building at your back. A ring of fire burst outward from your feet, surging in his direction like a tide. Bakugou leapt above it, and the two of you collided mid-air again—your flame, his blast—a perfect storm. For a heartbeat, all the world was heat and light.
You crashed onto the ground with a roll, coughing but laughing under your breath. “You know,” you said, looking up at him, “for someone who acts like they hate me, you sure shout a lot of motivational speeches.”
He stood over you, hands on his hips, hair singed at the edges, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Shut up,” he said flatly. “You just suck less now.”
You snorted, flames flickering harmlessly at your sides. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”
“It wasn’t.”
But he offered a hand to help you up anyway. You took it.
His grip was firm, grounding, and when you were back on your feet, he didn’t let go right away. Just for a second, his eyes scanned your face—checking for something. Fear, maybe. Unsteadiness. You didn’t know what he found, but he grunted, finally letting go, stepping back.
“Tch. Don’t get soft on me now.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled, brushing your fingers through the smoke in the air. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Up on the platform, All Might smiled knowingly. “I think she’s found her anchor.”
“No,” Aizawa replied quietly. “She found her equal.”
——
The crackling of fire and explosions had softened now, echoing faintly across the charred training field. You and Bakugou stood a few feet apart, breathing heavily, the adrenaline finally beginning to settle in your veins.
The edge of your vision shimmered from the leftover heat, the scent of burnt ozone lingering in the air. Embers drifted lazily to the ground like falling stars, and the world felt still again. For a moment, it was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Bakugou glanced toward you, brushing ash from his gauntlet. “You’re getting faster,” he muttered, not quite a compliment—but coming from him, it might as well have been.
You grinned, about to throw some snark back when—
BOOM.
A blinding light tore through the sky.
Golden. Blistering. Divine.
It didn’t come like thunder—it was thunder. The force slammed into the ground just a few yards away from where you stood, cracking stone and sending dust and heat flying outward like a shockwave. Your instincts screamed as your flames flared to life without your permission, reacting to the sudden surge of unnatural power.
Bakugou whipped around, shielding his face with one arm. “What the—?!”
From the center of the impact, the golden light took form—elegant yet inhuman. Wings folded sharp as blades behind a tall, armored figure. Silver and gold etched down their arms like glowing veins. Their presence was holy—but cold, suffocating. Divine judgment in humanoid shape.
They didn’t speak at first.
They didn’t need to.
The pressure in the air told you everything—this being wasn’t here for a visit.
They were here for you.
“Designated target acquired,” the figure finally said, voice vibrating not just through the air—but through your bones. “Your presence defies order. You will be removed.”
There was no time to speak.
No time to question.
The moment you locked eyes with them—they moved.
Faster than human sight.
A burst of golden energy shot forward—and they were already on you.
You threw up a wall of flame, barely reacting in time. It held for a second—then shattered like glass as the being crashed through it, sending you flying backward across the field. You slammed into the dirt, rolled hard, and barely pushed yourself up before another strike came.
Bakugou launched himself into the air, roaring, “BACK OFF!”
A concussive blast shot toward the figure, forcing them to sidestep—graceful and calculated, like they had rehearsed every motion long before it happened. Still, Bakugou’s interference gave you a second to breathe.
“Move!” he shouted, landing beside you, panting. “This one’s not here to train—they’re here to erase you!”
“No kidding,” you spat, flames roaring to life around your arms, hotter than before. More alive. Your eyes glowed with heat, something primal starting to boil in your chest. This wasn’t just a fight anymore—it was survival.
The figure lifted their staff—or sword? It shifted with light—radiant, lethal, impossible to define. The glow at its edge intensified, humming with divine resonance.
In an instant, they moved again—straight toward you.
But this time—you met them head-on.
Your flame burst outward with raw force, clashing against the searing divine light of the intruder. Heat and holiness collided, scorching the battlefield in a vortex of color and energy.
Every strike from them was precise, meant to end. Every movement from you was instinct, raw power barely held in check. You ducked under a horizontal slash of their radiant weapon and let fire erupt from your feet to launch upward, twisting midair and releasing a jet of flame that crashed down toward them like a meteor.
They countered effortlessly—but the speed at which you moved now shocked even them.
You suddenly felt a piercing stab in your arm, as you we’re bleeding. You looked at your arm, but instead of the red blood you were used to, it was pitch black. “W-Whats..happening to me..”
Bakugou turned sharply, catching the way you staggered. “The hell’s going on? What happened—did he hit you?!”
You looked at him, lips trembling. “I… I think something’s wrong.”
The golden-armored attacker paused mid-step, eyes narrowing. Their blade lowered ever so slightly, their voice laced with contempt. “That isn’t human blood…”
A chill crawled up your spine.
You stared at the black fluid still dripping from your arm—and then you felt it. A flicker. Something twitching beneath your skin, like claws dragging along bone. The pain faded… but it was replaced with pressure. Your heart beat faster. Something inside your chest stirred.
“Heh…” the figure tilted their head. “It’s beginning, then.”
Bakugou was suddenly in front of you, his tone sharp. “What the hell does that mean? Beginning what?!”
The figure didn’t answer.
But your body did.
Your fingernails began to sharpen—subtle, not enough for someone untrained to notice, but Bakugou caught the change. Your eyes burned faintly, a soft crimson glow ebbing in and out like breathing embers. You could feel something inhuman curling at the edge of your mind. Unfamiliar.
A faint voice echoed inside your skull—not in words, but in emotion. Mocking. Ancient. Yours… and not yours.
“I—I don’t know what’s happening,” you whispered, grabbing Bakugou’s arm. “Something’s—inside me.”
“You’re not turning into anything,” he snapped. “Stay with me, dumbass. You’re stronger than this.”
But the figure was moving again.
They rushed forward, blade glinting with divine light—but Bakugou was already launching himself at them, fists exploding mid-air to intercept.
“You want her,” he growled, “you go through me.”
You fell to your knees behind them, clutching your arm as the black blood began to sizzle against your skin. The pressure in your chest was rising. You could feel it in your bones, in your breath—in your soul.
A part of you was waking up.
Not fully. Not yet.
But it was there now.
You clawed at your back, a scream coming out of your body as the bone snapping sound of something revealed two beautiful set of black wings. You stood there, like before, eyes pure black as you were about to pounce onto the angel, you got stopped.
Not by bakugou, not by Aizawa, no.
By something that felt like a little piece of home for some reason.
A claw held your arm, big black horns coming into view as it looking up at the angel. “Camael, I don’t appreciate you hurt his majesty’s daughter.” The creature spoke to the angel, Camael.
“Nothing personal Drax.” He spoke back, eyes full with hatred. “But she had to go. She’s a threat to Heaven.”
The mention of Heaven made your chest tighten, the words like poison on your ears. It didn’t matter what you’d become, or what you were now; the angel’s words stung deep, igniting the flames of rage inside you. But you couldn’t act on it. Not while this powerful being held you in place.
Drax’s eyes never left Camael. There was a cold, unreadable expression on his face as he stood his ground. “She will not be harmed,” Drax stated with finality. His voice was thick with authority, as though it was a decree, not a suggestion. “You’ve been warned.”
Camael scoffed, stepping forward slightly. “You think you can stop me, demon? I am a warrior of Heaven—”
“You are nothing more than a pawn,” Drax interrupted, his voice unwavering. The tension in the air thickened, crackling with a dark energy that seemed to swirl around him. “I won’t say it again. Leave.”
For a moment, everything stood still. The two beings, one of light and one of shadow, locked in an unspoken battle of wills. The ground beneath you seemed to tremble as the dark energy from Drax met Camael’s celestial power.
But despite the angel’s fiery glare, Camael didn’t make a move. There was something in Drax’s presence, an undeniable power that was not to be challenged. For all his arrogance, Camael knew when to retreat.
The angel’s wings flickered as he finally stepped back, unwilling to engage any further. “This is not over,” Camael spat, his voice seething with hate. “You cannot protect her forever.”
Drax didn’t flinch, his gaze unwavering as Camael spread his wings and took flight, vanishing into the sky with a blinding flash of light. Silence fell in the wake of his departure, leaving you standing, your body trembling, caught between two worlds.
As the last of the angel’s light faded, you blinked, the dark energy within you slowly simmering down, though it still burned beneath the surface. Your wings twitched again, the black feathers glinting ominously.
The dark figure—Drax—turned to you. His eyes softened slightly, though his expression remained stoic. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice much gentler now.
You were silent for a moment, still in shock from everything that had just happened. The angel, your transformation, the sudden appearance of this demon—everything felt so surreal. But as you stared up at Drax, something about his presence, the way he was unwavering in his protection of you, made you feel an odd sense of safety.
“I… don’t know,” you muttered, your voice shaky. “What… what was that? Why did you help me?”
Drax's gaze softened ever so slightly. “I’m here to keep you safe, Princess,” he said simply, his tone devoid of emotion but carrying a weight of experience. “You have much to learn, and there are forces that want to see you destroyed. But you are not alone.”
The word Princess struck a chord in you, the significance of it making your mind reel. You had no idea what it meant, but the way Drax said it—the quiet authority in his voice—suggested something far greater than what you had imagined.
Bakugou stepped forward, a tense expression on his face. “Who the hell is this guy? Why is he calling you ‘Princess’?” He looked at you as if expecting an explanation.
You shook your head, still dazed by the events unfolding. “I… don’t know. But I don’t think he’s our enemy.”
Drax’s eyes flicked briefly to Bakugou, sizing him up, but he said nothing. His focus remained on you, the same unreadable expression on his face.
Your eyes wondered to Drax again, as allmight slowly stood behind you. “..Who are you..?”
He bowed deeply, his hand laid on top of his own heart. If he even has one.
“My name is Drax, I am the right hand man of the one who controls hell itself.” He looked up again “and you, your highness, you are the daughter of Lucifer Morningstar.”
---------
taglist:
@graythecoffeebean @slovesyouuu
---------
A/N: A very late birthday post! My birthday was this Monday and I also lost the original document where I store this story so I'm sorry for the delay! Do let me know what you thought of this chapter :DD
---------
The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.
That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.
English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3
main list
< Previous chapter Next chapter >
The tension in the air is awkward. It always happens when you walk into the room.
After the incident, you sat in your designated seat. You didn’t dare look any of them in the eye, especially bakugou. You had time to reflect a lot on you losing control and having burned him a lot.
Everyone ignores you too.
You noticed of course, when everyone becomes quiet when you enter. You didn’t blame them, you would have done the exact same thing if you were in their position. But it was still a bummer,
You were just started making friends
Lunch used to be one of your favorite times of the day. Now, it was unbearable.
You sat in your usual spot, tray untouched, eyes locked on the table in front of you. The low hum of chatter filled the cafeteria, but it felt distant—like you were hearing it from underwater. You knew it wasn’t a coincidence that no one sat directly next to you.
Even Kaminari, who usually had no concept of personal space, was two seats away, nervously shoving rice into his mouth without looking in your direction.
You sighed, pushing a piece of food around your plate with your chopsticks. It’s not like you didn’t understand. You did. You had lost control—almost hurt people. If you were them, you’d be wary too.
Still, it stung.
You finally glanced up, scanning the room. Yaoyorozu was whispering to Jirou, who subtly glanced your way before looking back at her food. Iida was speaking with Midoriya, but his usual hand gestures were stiffer than normal. Even Uraraka, who had always been warm and welcoming, only gave you a small, uncertain smile when your eyes met.
And then there was Bakugou.
He was sitting a few tables away with Kirishima and Sero, his back to you. You hadn’t spoken since the incident—not really. His burns had healed quickly thanks to Recovery Girl, but that didn’t mean you forgot the way his suit had practically melted off his skin, the way he had looked at you in those final moments.
Like he wasn’t sure if you were still you.
The memory made your stomach twist, so you quickly looked away.
You felt his eyes burn into you as you stood up, students whispering as they looked at your every move. Of course everyone knows, rumours spread quick here. You barely made it past the cafeteria doors before a hand grabbed your wrist, halting you in place.
Your body tensed immediately—you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“Oi.”
That rough, familiar voice sent a shiver down your spine. Not out of fear, but something else. Something you weren’t ready to name.
You swallowed and slowly turned, meeting Bakugou’s intense gaze. His red eyes were locked onto yours, unreadable. He wasn’t scowling, but he wasn’t exactly looking at you with his usual irritation, either.
It was something different.
“What?” you muttered, trying to sound unaffected.
Bakugou narrowed his eyes. For a second, he didn’t speak. Then, his grip on your wrist loosened, but he didn’t let go completely. “You gonna keep walkin’ around like a ghost forever?”
You stiffened, glancing away. “It’s none of your business.”
“Tch.” He clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed, but there was no real heat behind it. “Dumbass, I ain’t gonna let you mope around like some kicked dog. You think I give a shit about what happened?”
Your head snapped up, eyes widening slightly. “What?”
He scoffed. “You think you’re the first person to screw up? You think I haven’t—” He cut himself off, scowling. “Whatever. Point is, stop actin’ like everyone’s scared of you.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “Aren’t they?”
Bakugou held your gaze, his jaw clenching. “I’m not.” Something about the way he said it, so blunt and firm, made your chest tighten.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then, he huffed and finally let go of your wrist. “Get your shit together,” he muttered before brushing past you, hands shoved in his pockets.
You stood there, staring at his back as he walked away, the warmth of his grip still lingering on your skin. A small sudden smile leaving your lips, It felt like a small weight got lifted off your shoulders.
He might be a secret softy after all.
——
“She’s moving into the dorms today” Aizawa stated in the living area, where whole class 3-A was gathered today. “I want her to feel welcomed. Just because she lost control of her quirk, doesn’t mean you should treat her any less.” He spoke with a stern voice.
“I have seen how you have been treating her and I got to say, I’m disappointed.” He sighed, beginning to walk away. “After all, true heroes would never judge” He spoke as he disappeared into his own private living area, leaving the students alone with his words and their thoughts.
The common area was unusually quiet when you stepped in, arms wrapped around a box filled with your belongings, suitcase rolling unevenly behind you. You didn’t expect a warm welcome, not after everything that had happened, but the sheer weight of the silence still pressed uncomfortably against your chest.
You kept your head down, moving quickly toward the elevator. Just get to your room. Don’t make it worse.
“Ah—Wait!”
You nearly flinched when Midoriya’s voice rang out. He was already moving toward you, hands outstretched, as if hesitating to offer help. His eyes were the same as always—full of that ridiculous, unwavering kindness.
“Here, let me take that,” he said, reaching for the box in your arms. You hesitated. “I—uh—” “Don’t drop it, nerd,” came another voice, rough and exasperated. You turned just in time to see Bakugou stomp forward, scowl deep as ever. Before you could react, he grabbed the handle of your suitcase, yanking it from your grasp like it was his own.
Your mouth opened, then closed again. “What?” he grumbled, barely looking at you. “You were struggling with it.” “I wasn’t—”
“Oh, so you wanted to carry all this yourself?”
You clenched your jaw, but before you could respond—“Kacchan, you don’t have to be so rude about it,” Midoriya said with a sigh, shifting the box in his arms. “Shut it, Deku.”
“I was just saying—” “Tch. Who asked you, huh?”
Midoriya rolled his eyes. “You’re literally helping her too, Kacchan.”
Bakugou stiffened like he’d been electrocuted. “I—That’s not—Shut the hell up!” You blinked, caught somewhere between confusion and reluctant amusement. Midoriya sighed again, clearly used to this routine. “Come on, let’s just get her stuff upstairs.”
Bakugou grumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue, already stomping toward the elevator with your suitcase. Midoriya gave you a small, reassuring smile before following after him. You stood there for a second, processing.
Your eyes slowly watering but smiling softly. You quickly wiped them away as they brought you to your dorm room. You looked around, as you noticed midoriya standing there, watching you. “I-If you don’t mind me asking, how..how did you lose control..?”
You looked at both bakugou and midoriya, as you sat on the bed. “I don’t know I just..” You fiddled with your rings. All I can remember is just straight rage..”
You looked at your hands. Blurred memories flashing in your head, as you lit up the flame slightly. The boys looked at you, carefully studying your expressions. “I’ve never felt my quirk like this before.” You looked up at them, “It was raw, but it also felt like…” You trailed off.
“More like myself. I have never felt more in touch with myself before than that day.”
Bakugou scoffed. “That’s a load of crap. You either control your quirk or you don’t.” But there was no real bite in his tone—just curiosity.
“Maybe..” Midoriya looked at the both of them. “I think- Are you certain its a quirk?” He rambled, his hands moving fast as he got nervous. “I-I mean! T-Think about it-! Mr Aizawas Quirk didn’t work-! And H-His quirk always works!!”
You didn’t realise that you’ve been standing up, and slightly hovering over him as he scrunched down. “What do you mean aizawas quirk didn’t work?”
Silence settled over the room, thick and heavy. Midoriya swallowed hard, his fingers twitching as his mind raced to piece everything together.
“I-I mean exactly that,” he stammered, eyes darting between you and Bakugou. “Aizawa-sensei tried to erase your quirk during the incident, but… nothing happened.”
You blinked. Your heartbeat quickened. “That’s not possible,” you muttered. “His quirk has worked on me before.”
Midoriya nodded frantically. “That’s what I’m saying! It should have worked—but it didn’t. Not even for a second.” He exhaled sharply, trying to calm himself down. Bakugou scoffed, crossing his arms. “That’s bullshit. She’s had a quirk since day one. What the hell else could it be?”
Silence settled in the room again, but this time no one knew the answer.
——
You kept tossing and turning in your bed that night.
You kept tossing and turning, the sheets tangled around you, your mind racing with thoughts you couldn’t escape. No matter how hard you tried to push them away, they clawed their way back—Aizawa’s quirk not working, the raw power you had felt, Midoriya’s worried expression.
What if he was right? What if this wasn’t just your quirk evolving?
Every time you closed your eyes, flickers of that moment returned. The heat, the certainty, the overwhelming sense that something had shifted inside you. It didn’t feel foreign. It didn’t feel wrong. It felt… like you had only just begun to wake up.
With a frustrated sigh, you sat up, running a hand through your hair. The moonlight streamed through your window, casting pale light over your room. Instinctively, your fingers traced over the burn mark on your palm.
With a huff, you threw off the covers and got to your feet. If sleep wouldn’t come, you might as well do something useful. The energy buzzing under your skin was unbearable, like a fire begging to be unleashed.
Slipping on your training gear, you made your way outside, careful not to wake anyone. The training grounds were deserted at this hour—just how you wanted it. No distractions. No eyes watching.
The second your feet hit the mat, you ignited your flames. They roared to life instantly, more intense than ever, licking up your arms as if responding to your frustration. You took a deep breath and got to work—punches, kicks, controlled bursts of fire. Each movement was sharp, deliberate, fueled by the gnawing uncertainty in your chest.
Faster. Harder. Stronger.
The heat around you thickened, sweat dripping down your temple as you pushed your body past its limits. The raw power felt good—too good. Your control wavered, flames surging higher, burning brighter.
“Oi. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
You froze, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
Bakugou stood at the entrance of the training grounds, arms crossed, his sharp crimson eyes locked onto you. His usual scowl was there, but something else lingered beneath it—concern.
“You tryna burn the whole damn place down?” he scoffed, stepping closer. “Or are you just that much of a dumbass that you think overworking yourself in the middle of the night is a good idea?”
You wiped the sweat from your brow, meeting his gaze. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Tch. No shit.” He eyed the scorch marks on the ground, then back at you. “Your flames are different.”
You swallowed, flexing your fingers as the fire dimmed. “I know.”
Silence stretched between you before you crossed your arms, tilting your head at him. “And what about you?” you questioned, narrowing your eyes. “What the hell are you doing awake?”
Bakugou clicked his tongue, looking away for half a second before scoffing. “That’s none of your damn business.”
You raised a brow. “Oh, so it’s okay for you to call me a dumbass for being out here, but not the other way around?”
“Tch. Shut up.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, his jaw tightening. “I wasn’t sleeping either.”
That made you pause.
You had expected a brush-off, an insult, maybe even an explosion—but not honesty.
Your arms loosened slightly. “Bad dreams?” He clicked his tongue again, looking off to the side. “Something like that.”
A beat of silence.
Then, with a sharp breath, Bakugou rolled his shoulders and dropped into a stance, popping his knuckles. “You wanna push yourself? Fine. But you’re not gonna do it like an idiot.” His eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Let’s train.”
You exhaled, rolling your shoulders before mirroring his stance. “Fine,” you muttered, tightening your fists. “But don’t go easy on me.”
Bakugou smirked, a flicker of excitement flashing in his eyes. “As if I ever would.”
Without warning, he lunged. You barely had time to react before he was in your space, throwing a quick, testing jab toward your ribs. You twisted just in time, flames sparking at your fingertips as you countered with a sharp kick aimed at his side. He dodged, a small explosion bursting from his palm as he propelled himself backward.
“Your reaction time’s slow,” he taunted. “You hesitated.”
You scoffed, wiping sweat from your brow. “Yeah? You talk too much.”
A burst of fire shot from your hands as you lunged forward, feinting left before twisting at the last second, aiming a punch toward his shoulder. But he was ready. He caught your wrist, the heat from your flames barely phasing him, and yanked you off balance. You hit the mat with a grunt, the impact knocking the air from your lungs.
“See? Hesitated again.” He smirked, offering a hand. “You’re thinking too much.”
You glared up at him but took his hand anyway, letting him pull you up. “Maybe I wouldn’t be if someone wasn’t barking in my ear every two seconds.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, get over it.” His smirk faded slightly as he crossed his arms, eyeing you with something close to curiosity. “You’ve been weird lately.”
You tensed. “Gee, thanks.”
“I mean it, dumbass,” he shot back. “You’re holding back, but at the same time, you’re not. It’s like you don’t even know your own power right now.”
You hesitated, looking down at your hands. “Maybe I don’t.”
Bakugou frowned, silent for a moment. Then he scoffed. “Tch. That’s dumb. You do.”
Your eyes snapped up to him. “What?”
His gaze was steady, unwavering. “You’re acting like you’re lost or some shit, but I’ve seen you fight. I’ve seen how you move, how you burn.” His voice was firm, like he was stating an undeniable fact. “This isn’t about not knowing your power. It’s about you being too scared to accept it.”
You opened your mouth, then closed it. The worst part? He wasn’t wrong.
Something had changed inside you, something deeper than just your quirk. But you weren’t sure if you were ready to face what that really meant.
Bakugou clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “You wanna figure this out? Then stop overthinking and fight like you mean it.” He popped his knuckles again, dropping back into his stance. “Now get up. We’re not done.”
You let out a slow breath, rolling your shoulders.“Fine,” you muttered, flames sparking to life once more.
Bakugou’s smirk widened as he watched the fire in your eyes finally match the flames in your hands. “That’s more like it.”
The two of you circled each other, the air between you charged with something electric—something unspoken. You didn’t know if it was the heat from your flames or the sheer intensity of his presence, but in that moment, nothing else existed. Just the fight. Just the fire.
You lunged first, no hesitation this time. Bakugou met you head-on, explosions igniting in his palms as the battle between you burned into the night.
And through it all, that damn smirk never left his face.
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taglist:
@graythecoffeebean @slovesyouuu
---------
A/N: I didn't abandon this story I promise!! I've been really busy and my birthday is next week so I'm prepping for that! Hope you enjoyed :)
---------
The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.
That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.
English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3
main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >
Bakugou’s breath hitched as he took an involuntary step back. His heart pounded in his chest, not from exertion—but from something else. Something unfamiliar.
Fear.
Your eyes, usually burning with confidence, had turned pitch black, like the void of a starless night. The flames surrounding you crackled with wild, erratic energy, shifting from blue to a light blue, then flickering into white for a split second. The air around you was suffocating, heavy with something unnatural.
“The hell is this?” Bakugou muttered, his voice quieter than usual. He clenched his fists, trying to steady himself.
Aizawa stood up, straightened his posture as he felt the shift in this fight. He looked at the side where Present Mic was standing. “Those flames aren’t the ones we are used to..” Aizawa pointed out, paying extra attention now, his fingers tensed, already preparing to activate his quirk again if necessary.
You put a small step forward, those steps being uneven making you look like a zombie. Your flames shining brighter than ever. All of the sudden a slash of flames, hotter than the sun, came over towards bakugou, as he could dodge it just on time.
“WHAT THE HELL?!” he barked, flipping mid-air before landing in a crouch. His chest heaved, adrenaline spiking in a way he did not like.
That wasn’t a normal attack. That was something deadly.
He clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus despite the sting across his face. His skin burned just from being near it. He grit his teeth. “Oi! What the hell are you—?!”
He stopped in his tracks, as you stood in front of him, your hair burning, no—
Floating.
He looked closely to your forehead, a massive scar ran from side to side. It looked like barbed wire running across it. But the weirdest part was not the scar itself
But that it in fact was glowing.
Your hands were covered in flames, almost grabbing bakugou when he suddenly got pushed to the side. Midoriya tackled him on the ground as she nearly hit him.
Bakugou hit the ground with a grunt, the weight of Midoriya keeping him down just long enough to avoid your outstretched, burning hands. The heat from your flames still singed the air above him, and for a split second, he could feel the searing intensity brush past his face.
“The hell, Deku?!” Bakugou barked, shoving Midoriya off him.
Midoriya scrambled up, his eyes frantic. “You weren’t moving!” he shouted, his gaze darting back to you.
Your flames had completely lost their shape. The white-hot fire around you swirled chaotically, licking at the air with a hunger that didn’t seem normal. Your stance was unsteady, your breath uneven. And those eyes—the ones that weren’t yours but somehow were yours at the same time—fixed on the two of them with something unrecognisable.
Aizawa’s sharp eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him. The intensity of your flames, the unnatural way they moved—it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t just a quirk going out of control. Something deeper was happening.
Without hesitation, he activated Erasure. His hair whipped upwards, his crimson gaze locking onto you as his quirk flared to life.
Nothing happened.
Aizawa’s stomach dropped.
Your flames didn’t even flicker. They roared, surging higher, feeding off some unseen force. His Erasure should have worked. It always worked. So why—?
“Shit.” Aizawa immediately reached for his capture weapon, swinging it toward you with practiced precision. If he couldn’t shut your quirk down, he’d have to contain you.
But the second the cloth neared your flames—It disintegrated.
Aizawa barely had time to react before a wave of scorching heat blasted toward him. He jumped back, dodging it by inches, but even then, the air stung against his skin. “Sensei!” Midoriya’s panicked voice rang out as he forced himself up. His eyes darted from Aizawa to you, horror settling into his expression. “Your Erasure—why didn’t it work?!”
Aizawa didn’t answer immediately. His jaw clenched as he landed in a low stance, calculating his next move. Why didn’t it work?
Aizawa quickly switched gears. He wouldn’t be able to neutralize your quirk—but he could subdue you. His capture weapon might not hold, but if he could get close enough—
Before he could act, a sudden, piercing shriek filled the air.
Not from you.
From the fire itself.
The white-hot flames surged violently, expanding outward like a living creature—lashing at the ground, leaving behind deep scorch marks. The entire battlefield was becoming unstable.
Aizawa’s eyes widened slightly. This had to stop.
“Everyone, back up!” he commanded, his voice sharp and unwavering. His gaze flickered to the staff area, where the pro heroes were now on their feet. “We need reinforcements—NOW.”
Bakugou, despite his injuries, growled. “Like hell I’m backing down!”
Aizawa shot him a deadly glare. “That’s an order, Bakugou. This isn’t just a fight anymore.” Bakugou gritted his teeth but didn’t argue further. He wasn’t stupid—he knew when shit was bad.
And right now?
This was a whole new level of dangerous.
Alarms went off, and the students were ushered behind them.
“We can help!” Iida screamed as Midnight held him back. She shook her head.
“This is bigger than you all. I trust you with my life, but this girl—” she pointed at you, half-drowning in your own flames—“this has never happened before! Do not do anything irrational for our sake!” she cried, trying to create distance between the flames and the students.
Suddenly, a flame was being thrown towards them
“Duck!!” Present Mic screamed, Activating his quirk as they all ducked on the ground.
“MOVE!”
All Might was already in motion, his body a blur as he leaped into the air. Even in his weakened state, his instincts were razor-sharp. With a single, powerful swing of his arm, he sent a burst of wind toward the oncoming flames, redirecting them just before they could consume the students.
The fire scattered, but it didn’t go out. It didn’t even weaken.
All Might landed in a crouch, his expression grim as he took in the battlefield. “These flames… they’re not normal.” His voice was tense, low, nothing like his usual booming confidence.
Aizawa grit his teeth, keeping his stance low. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Deku and Bakugou were still near the front, their bodies coiled and ready for action despite the obvious danger. Deku’s hands clenched into trembling fists, his mind racing at a million miles per second.
This isn’t normal—this isn’t normal—what’s happening to her?!
He’d never seen flames like these, not even from Todoroki. They were alive, writhing unnaturally, burning hotter than anything he’d ever felt. And your eyes—
“Shit,” Bakugou muttered beside him, wiping at the sweat dripping down his face. His usual arrogance had been replaced with something sharper, more serious. “She’s losing it.”
Aizawa didn’t take his eyes off you, already preparing to counter whatever happened next. “She’s not just losing it,” he said, voice grave. “She’s burning herself out.”
All Might straightened, his fists tightening at his sides. “We need to get her under control before she burns everything—including herself— to the ground.”
Just as he said it, a new presence entered the battlefield.
Aizawa’s eyes flickered toward the side as Endeavor stormed onto the scene, his own flames roaring to life. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his posture—something different. He wasn’t here just as a hero.
He was here because he recognized exactly what was happening. “Step back.” His voice was deep, final. “I’ll handle this.”
Bakugou scoffed, still panting from the fight. “Yeah? Where the hell were you before this got outta hand?”
Endeavor ignored him, his piercing gaze locked solely on you. All might stood next to him, protecting bakugou and deka from the flames. Everyones gaze locked onto you,
Until you suddenly weren’t there
You moved quickly, as a white fire wip grabbed endeavours arm, as if it saw him as an enemy and not an ally
Endeavor barely had time to react before the white-hot flame wrapped around his arm, tightening like a vice. The heat was unbearable—even for him. This wasn’t normal fire. With a sharp grunt, he wrenched his arm free, his flames flaring in retaliation. But as soon as he turned, you were gone again.
Fast. Too fast.
"Where—?"
"Above!"
All Might’s voice rang out just in time. Endeavor’s instincts kicked in, and he barely managed to twist to the side before you came down like a meteor, flames crashing into the ground where he had just stood. The earth cracked under the force of your attack, a shockwave of searing heat forcing everyone nearby to stumble back..
Your face was eerily blank. No recognition. No hesitation. Just raw, uncontrolled instinct.
And the fire was moving on its own.
That was the real problem. It was acting like it had a mind of its own, striking out without you even needing to direct it. Like it had decided Endeavor was a threat—on its own. All Might’s voice was tense, urgent. “We can’t let this continue.” But before anyone could make a move, a new voice cut through the chaos.
“OI!”
Everyone’s heads snapped toward Bakugou. He was already moving. Ignoring the heat, ignoring the flames, he charged straight toward you. “Kacchan! stop!” Midoriya’s voice was desperate, but Bakugou didn’t even hesitate.
He saw it—what the others didn’t.
Yeah, the flames were out of control. Yeah, you weren’t responding. But you hadn’t attacked him. Not with this hateful purpose he saw with endeavour anyways
He wasn’t the enemy.
“Snap the hell out of it!” His voice was raw, loud enough to punch through the roaring flames.
But you didn’t react.
Bakugou gritted his teeth. Fine. If words weren’t enough—
He grabbed your wrist. A shockwave of heat burst from your skin, sending sparks flying as his glove instantly caught fire. The smell of burning fabric hit the air, but he didn’t let go.
“You hear me?! Cut this shit out already!”
Your body jerked.
The flames stuttered.
For the first time, your blank eyes flickered.
Not black.
Not empty.
Yours.
And just like that—
The fire collapsed.
The white-hot flames vanished, pulling inward as if a switch had been flipped. The battlefield fell silent. The only sound was your sharp, ragged breathing.
The weirdest part was
You weren’t burned at all.
Your legs buckled, and Bakugou caught you before you could hit the ground. His hand was badly burned, but he barely reacted, just grumbling under his breath as he steadied you.
“Dumbass,” he muttered. “Next time, warn us before you go nuclear, yeah?”
You cracked a tired smile, your voice barely above a whisper. “You think I wanted to go all ‘nuclear’?”
Your body was slowly giving out, but through the blur of your vision, you could see All Might running toward you. He gently picked you up from Bakugou’s arms as you lulled into sleep against him.
“Dad..” Was the last thing you said before hearing someone scream “someone warn recovery girl!”
And everything went black.
——
The first thing you felt was a soft paw on your hand, indicating that nezu had heard about the incident.
Of course he knows
You blinked slightly, the bright light shining too bright for your liking in your eyes. Shifting slightly, you moved to see Nezu at the side of your bed, worry seeable in that expression of his.
You smiled weakly in your pillow, looking at him. “It feels like a truck just drove through my body..” You groaned, “what happened..?”
“You lost control,” Aizawa said bluntly, his tired eyes scanning you. “Badly.”
Your head pounded as the memories came rushing back. The heat. The flames licking at your skin. The way everything had blurred together in a haze of white fire. You had never felt that kind of power before—it had been overwhelming, all-consuming.
“God..” You shot up but winced, “Is everyone okay?? Did someone get hurt??” You panicked as nezu grabbed your hand tighter.
“Calm yourself,” he said, voice gentle but firm. “Panicking will only make things worse.”
You forced yourself to take a breath, your body still trembling from exhaustion. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for any signs of disaster. “But—my flames—”
“No one was seriously hurt,” Aizawa interrupted, his gaze heavy. “Some minor burns, a few close calls, but nothing fatal.”
Your heart pounded. “I—”
“You lost control,” he said, tone blunt but not unkind. “But you didn’t completely lose yourself. You didn’t attack anyone directly.”
That should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. Your hands curled into fists against the blanket. “That doesn’t change the fact that I could have.”
“It doesn’t,” Nezu agreed, but his eyes—calculating and impossibly sharp—held something else. “Which is why we need to figure out why this happened and how to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”
Endeavor scoffed from where he stood, arms still folded. “It was rage. Pure and simple.”
You turned to glare at him, anger bubbling beneath your skin despite your exhaustion. “You think I wanted to lose control?”
“I think you let it consume you,” he replied coldly. “I’ve seen it before.”
Your fingers twitched, flames threatening to spark at your fingertips before you took a deep breath and forced them down. Nezu tilted his head, watching you closely. “This isn’t just about anger, is it?”
You hesitated. The truth was, you didn’t know. It had been rage—anger at Bakugou, at the past, at yourself—but it had been something more, something deeper. Something you still couldn’t explain.
Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temples. “For now, just rest. We’ll deal with this when you’re stronger.”
You wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the exhaustion was already pulling you down again. You let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly. Nezu finally released your hand, offering you a small smile. “We’ll figure this out together.”
You sighed as everyone left the room, your head hitting the pillow as you could only think of the disaster that happened today. ‘My new friends are going to hate me..’ She mumbled softly, as she closed her eyes again, letting sleep take her away again.
——
Screams. That was all she could hear.
The air reeked of burning flesh, though she wasn’t sure if it was hers. Heat rippled through the darkness, pressing against her skin like a living thing, whispering against her ears like voices from the abyss. She touched her cheek—her skin was intact, yet the sensation of melting wouldn’t fade.
Then, through the inferno, a figure emerged. Cloaked in shadow and fire, its presence commanded the very flames to part around it. It moved with an unnatural grace, as if the world bent to its will.
“Do not be afraid, princess,” the figure spoke, its voice a deep, silken purr that sent ice down her spine despite the unbearable heat. “When the time is right, I will come for you.”
Her breath caught in her throat. There was something wrong with its presence, something ancient and absolute. The way it stood—poised, patient, knowing—made her feel as though this moment had already been decided, written in fire and brimstone long before she was even born.
She wanted to move, to run, but the ground beneath her was no longer solid. The flames curled at her feet like living tendrils, waiting. Watching.
The figure took another step forward, and the fire pulsed with it, as if bound to its will. She could see its face now—or what should have been a face. Instead, shifting darkness obscured its features, except for its eyes. Two burning pits of gold, glowing with something far worse than malice. Devotion.
“I serve only my master,” the figure murmured, tilting its head. “And you, my dear, belong to him.”
The fire surged, and suddenly, a hand—its hand—reached for her. The moment its fingers brushed against her skin, a searing pain exploded through her palm, as if hell itself had branded her. The agony pulled a scream from her throat, but the sound was swallowed by the inferno.
She was falling.
Falling into him. Into his world.
And then—
She woke up.
Gasping, her body jerking upright, the darkness of her room pressing in around her. The flames were gone, but her skin still burned. Her heart pounded against her ribs, her breath uneven.
She looked down at her trembling hand.
A fresh burn mark had appeared on her palm, the imprint of an outstretched hand. The pain was dull now, but the heat still smoldered beneath her skin, a silent reminder of what had touched her. She clenched her fingers, but the mark remained, unmoving—a brand, a promise, a warning. Something was going on.
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taglist:
@graythecoffeebean @slovesyouuu
---------
A/N: Don't forget to leave a comment behind :)!
---------
The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.
That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.
English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3
main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >
“Are you absolutely 100% sure you want to do this?” Uraraka asked nervously, fidgeting with her own suit.
You transformed into your own suit—a sleek black bodysuit adorned with small blue flames flickering across the fabric. A massive belt wrapped tightly around your waist, while a mask, designed to protect you from the ashes of your quirk, was securely fastened to your face.
“I am sure, someone has to put him in his place” you rolled her eyes, as you stretched a little. “I won’t let him bully someone, even if that someone is used to it, no.”
Yaoyorozu crossed her arms, concern clear in her expression. “I understand wanting to stand your ground, but Bakugou isn’t an opponent to take lightly.”
You rolled your shoulders, the fabric of your suit flexing with the movement. “I know exactly what I’m doing,” you said, adjusting the mask on your face.
“Just..be careful.” Uraraka warned her, smiling at her softly. “All the girls believe in you.”
You looked back at her, as you smiled. Giving her a thumbs up. Uraraka looked at her with a small disbelief, but she could see she was trained very well.
After all that smile was exactly like All-Mights.
——
As you tied your hair in a ponytail, your bangs still covering your forehead as you prepared for the fight, Todoroki approached, his usual calm expression unreadable. His heterochromatic eyes flicked toward Bakugou, who was stretching across the field, sparks popping off his palms in anticipation.
“You’re really going through with this?” Todoroki asked, his voice even but carrying an edge of curiosity.
You exhaled, rolling your shoulders. “Yeah. Someone needs to knock that ego down a few notches.”
Todoroki studied you for a moment before speaking again. “Your quirk… You said before that you trained with my father.” His voice was measured, but there was a slight tension underneath.
Your jaw clenched instinctively. “Yeah. I did.” His gaze didn’t waver. “Then you know what he’s like.”
A bitter chuckle escaped you as you secured your mask again. “Oh, trust me, I know. I get why you and your siblings want nothing to do with him.” You glanced at him, your flames flickering to life at your fingertips. “Training with Endeavor wasn’t learning—it was survival.”
Todoroki’s expression hardened slightly, but there was something else there—understanding. A quiet, unspoken acknowledgment between two people who knew exactly what kind of man Endeavor was.
Before he could reply, Bakugou’s voice cut through the air. “Oi! Hurry the hell up! Unless you’re already chickening out.” You smirked, stepping forward. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”
Todoroki gave you a small nod, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Just don’t let him get under your skin. He feeds off of it.”
You glanced back, grinning. “I’m counting on it.” Then, without another word, you strode onto the battlefield.
——
You stood a few paces away from bakugou, seeing him yet not close enough to really see him. You count to ten, feeling some of the teachers gaze on your back. ‘Swift and fast’ you thought, as you heard aizawa slowly count from 10 to 0.
“3..2..1..now!” He screamed, taking a step back.
Bakugou strode immediately in your direction, using his explosions to boost himself as quickly as possible at you. You concentrated on your hands as you created a wall of blue fire, giving you a small advantage of getting in his blind spot.
“THE HELL?!” He screamed, as the flames dissolved, leaving the area empty. He looked up, suddenly seeing you charging from the sky towards him to kick his face. He grabbed your boot just in time before it could do serious damage.
You twisted your leg, using your free one to kick his cheek, making him let go of your other leg.
Bakugou stumbled back slightly, his teeth gritted as he wiped at the faint red mark forming on his cheek. His crimson eyes flickered with something between annoyance and excitement.
“Tch, not bad,” he admitted, cracking his neck. “But you’re gonna regret that.”
Before you could respond, he launched himself forward, explosions propelling him at a speed that made the ground crack beneath him. You barely had time to brace before he was on you, swinging a fist aimed right at your ribs.
You twisted at the last second, dodging most of the impact, but the heat still seared against your side. Gritting your teeth, you countered by igniting your flames in a burst, forcing him to jump back to avoid getting burned.
You panted, your chest rising and falling as flames burst from your fists, striking toward Bakugou like whips of fire. But he was fast—too fast. He weaved through them effortlessly, each explosion from his palms propelling him just out of reach.
Before you could adjust your aim, he was suddenly in front of you.
“Too slow.”
His hand clenched your collar, yanking you forward before slamming you down with brutal force. The impact sent a shockwave through the ground, dust and embers scattering in the air as pain jolted through your back.
Bakugou didn’t let go, leaning in with a wild grin. “What? Thought you had me?” His grip tightened. “Not even close.”
You groaned, eyes locking onto Bakugou despite the pain radiating through your back. Instead of struggling, you smirked.
“You hit like a man trying to prove something.”
And to everybody’s surprise, you head bunked him so hard that it caught him of guard. You pulled your legs towards your own body and kicked his chest hard, getting him off from you. As he flew back, you send him a wave of fire, burning some of his suit.
Standing up, slightly stumbling because of using your head to defend yourself, you wiped the blood from your nose, smirking badly. “Is that all you got?”
Bakugou caught himself mid-air, flipping before skidding across the ground, smoke rising from the scorched parts of his suit. His breath was heavy, eyes wide for a fraction of a second before they narrowed into something more dangerous.
Slowly, he wiped at his mouth, noticing the faint trace of blood on his glove. Then, he started laughing. Low at first, then louder, a wild, almost unhinged grin spreading across his face.
“Oh, you’re dead.”
He charged at you, explosions propelling him forward like a missile. The heat from his blasts burned against your skin before his fist even got close. You quickly created distance, your hands moving like you are grabbing a pole, as flames manifested in your hands, creating a whip.
Your whip catches his arm, burning through his clothes. He yelped, but tugged it forward catching you off guard and wrapped the whip around your neck, choking you a bit. You unleased the whip as you gasped for air, feeling the skin of your neck burning.
Bakugou didn’t hesitate—he launched himself forward, aiming a brutal right hook at your face.
At the last second, you ducked, sliding beneath him as you ignited the flames around your hands. With a swift motion, you drove a Flame-coated Uppercut into his stomach, sending a shockwave of heat between you both.
Bakugou grunted, his body lifting slightly from the impact, but he recovered fast. His hands sparked violently as he spun mid-air, twisting to send an explosion straight at you.
You barely had time to react. The blast struck your side, sending you skidding across the ground, your suit slightly charred. The smell of burnt fabric filled the air, mixing with the heat of battle.
Panting, you wiped the blood trickling from your lip and pushed yourself up. Bakugou was already grinning, cracking his knuckles.
"You still breathing?" he taunted, his crimson eyes gleaming with excitement.
You smirked, rolling your shoulders. "You’re gonna wish I wasn’t.”
Your fist connected with his jaw, sending him stumbling back. But you weren’t done. Twisting mid-air, you brought your knee up hard into his ribs, forcing the air from his lungs. As he staggered, you spun and delivered a flaming roundhouse kick to his side, sending him crashing into the ground.
"Where’s all that confidence now, Bakugou?" you taunted, breathing heavily but steady.
Before you could react, Bakugou caught your wrist and twisted, yanking you forward before slamming you into the ground. The impact sent a shock through your body, knocking the air from your lungs. You barely had time to gasp before he pressed a knee into your back, pinning you down with his weight. His breath was hot against your ear, voice low and sharp.
"You think fire makes you strong? Please. You’re just a failure who can’t even control it."
Your body stiffened.
That wasn’t just Bakugou’s voice—it was a ghost from your past, bleeding into the present.
“You're just a failure if you can't control it.”
A tiny figure stood in front of a wooden target, burns covering her arms as she was sweating. The Number Two Hero looked down at the little lady, a scowl visible on his face.
“You think you can become the number one with those pathetic kind of moves?”
Her fingers twitched at her sides, curling into fists. She wanted to scream. To cry. To fight back. But she knew better.
Instead, she forced herself to meet his gaze, her lip trembling but her eyes burning with something deeper.
She would get stronger. She would prove him wrong.
Even if it killed her.
——
Bakugou smirked as he pinned you down again, this time with no room for escape. His hands sparked with small explosions, the heat grazing your skin, but he didn’t let them go off just yet.
"Tch. That all you got?" His voice dripped with arrogance, crimson eyes glaring down at you. "All that fire, all that talk, and you still can’t keep up."
Your breath was ragged, your limbs aching, but his words burned worse than any of his explosions. You struggled against his grip, but he didn’t budge.
Then, he leaned in closer, voice dropping low.
"You’re just a failure if you can’t control it.” He repeated again, Your entire body went still.
A sharp ringing filled your ears. The world around you blurred. The weight of Bakugou pressing you down melted away, replaced by something heavier.
The memory crashed into you, sudden and suffocating. The scent of burnt skin. The crushing disappointment in Endeavor’s glare. The suffocating pressure of not being enough. Your vision flickered. The present wavered.
Then, fire erupted.
A blast of pure, untamed heat exploded from your body, the sheer force sending Bakugou flying back. He barely managed to brace himself before skidding across the battlefield, eyes wide in surprise. You pushed yourself up, slow and steady, your body trembling but your flames burning brighter than ever.
Your fingers twitched, sparks of fire getting ignited all across the room. Controlled? No. But this time, you didn’t care.
Bakugou was just about to bark something back, but stopped at his tracks, his eyes widening as he looked into hers.
Cause they weren’t her usual color, they were pitch black.
Something was very, very wrong.
---------
taglist:
@graythecoffeebean
---------
A/N: I love imagining fight scenes in my head, but actually writing them are always harder when English is your second language- I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Can't wait to share more of it.
please let me know if you wanna be in the taglist!
---------
The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.
That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.
English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3
main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >
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The moment class started you knew it would be heavy. Not because of the material or classes you had to take, oh no you had those in the bag.
But because of the damn stares.
‘Not only was my entrance dramatic, but this dumbass really has a staring problem..’ She whispered to herself as she began writing down the material Aizawa was talking about. The stares of the explosive blond were glaring holes into her back. It was so bad, it felt like he was actively making holes into your body.
You looked around, half interested in what aizawa was saying but more interested in what was sitting around you.
As instructed by nezu, you sat in the far front. With besides you a sort French aesthetic kind of student, who winked at you as he noticed you looked at him. You shivered slightly, something tells you that even with his appearance you should keep a distance from him.
Behind him sat a guy with a lighting bolt in his hair, one of his hands was in his hair as the other was scribbling to keep up with aizawa, who has continued with his talk with no sign of stopping.
“Pssst” a noise krept from behind you. You turned your body slightly turning back to see a pink skinned girl staring at you with a whole lot of curiosity. “It’s so random a new student joins our class so in the middle of the school year, I’m Mina Ashido! But everyone calls me mina.”
She grinned, resting her chin on her hand as she kept her eyes locked on you. “Sooo? What’s your Quirk?” she whispered, completely ignoring the lesson happening at the front of the room.
You hesitated, not sure whether to answer with Aizawa still talking. Before you could decide, the student beside you shifted slightly. With his glittering uniform and confident smirk, he looked like he belonged on a magazine cover rather than in a classroom.
“Mina, mon cher, you’re overwhelming them,” he said smoothly, flashing you a wink. “I am Yuga Aoyama. Enchanté.”
“Yeah, yeah, we know you’re fancy,” Denki muttered from behind him, lazily spinning his pen between his fingers. “But seriously, what’s your Quirk? It’s gotta be something cool if they let you transfer into 3-A this late.”
Mina nodded eagerly, eyes gleaming. “Right?! I mean, you must be crazy strong or super smart or—”
A dry voice interrupted from the front. “Ashido. Kaminari. Do you enjoy being distractions?”
Mina’s mouth snapped shut as Aizawa’s gaze landed on her. Denki immediately straightened in his seat, eyes darting back to his notes. Aoyama, on the other hand, only gave a slow, deliberate flip of his hair before turning forward again.
The classroom settled back into silence, except for the scratching of pens against paper and the occasional creak of a chair. Mina shot you a side glance, mouthing, Tell me later.
As lunchtime approaches, you stood still with a tray of your lunch as you looked like a deer in headlights.
‘So many tables..’ You thought, as you walked around, trying to spot mina.
“OVER HERE!!” A female voice shouted as mina waved excitedly to you, trying to get you over at the lunch table.
Relieved, you quickly made your way toward Mina’s table, weaving through the maze of students. As you approached, you noticed she wasn’t alone—several of your classmates were already seated with her.
“Finally! I thought you’d get lost or something,” Mina teased as she scooted over to make room for you. “Come sit!”
You carefully placed your tray down and took a seat, still feeling a little out of place. Across from you, Denki grinned. “First lunch with the squad, huh? Big moment.”
Next to him, the spiky red head, Kirishima, gave you a friendly nod. “Don’t worry, everyone here’s cool. Except Bakubro.” He laughed, dodging a half-hearted kick from the explosive blonde sitting at the edge of the table.
“Shut up, idiot.”
You finally allowed your eyes to rest on bakugou. His blond hair was ashy and spiky, which weirdly suited him. He had broad shoulders, but to be fair everyone had that in the hero course. They trained you to the bone at U.A, she heard the teacher enough about the exams and what they plan every year.
But the thing that pulled you the most were those eyes.
Crimson eyes, with a hardend gaze.
“You have a staring problem extra?” Bakugou pulled you out of your thoughts. You smirked, clearly liking a challenge. “Should we reverse that question over to you? Hm? I saw you staring the entirely of class, not so slick dude.”
The table collectively went, "Oooooh," as they watched the interaction unfold like an intense showdown. Mina covered her mouth, barely containing her laughter, while Denki leaned in, clearly entertained. Even Kirishima, who usually played peacemaker, smirked as he watched Bakugou's reaction.
Bakugou’s eye twitched, his grip tightening around his chopsticks. “Tch. Like I’d waste my time staring at some extra like you.” He scoffed, turning his attention back to his food, but you didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed.
“Oh yeah?” You leaned on your elbow, resting your chin in your palm. “Then what’s got you so worked up, Bakugou?” You purposely dragged out his name, watching for a reaction.
Denki almost choked on his drink, and Mina had to slap his back to keep him from making a scene. “Yo, I like them,” he wheezed between coughs. “Finally, someone who isn’t scared to mess with Bakugou.”
Bakugou set his chopsticks down with a loud clack, eyes flicking back to you. “Keep running your mouth, and we’ll see how funny you are during training.” His tone was low, dangerous—yet, there was something else beneath it, something almost… intrigued.
You simply smirked, unbothered. “Looking forward to it.”
Kirishima let out a low whistle, shaking his head with a grin. “Man, you’ve got guts. Most people don’t go head-to-head with Bakugou unless they wanna get blown up.”
Mina elbowed you playfully. “Yeah, but I kinda love it! We needed some fresh energy in 3-A.”
Bakugou clicked his tongue, clearly irritated. “Like I care. If they wanna get their ass kicked, that’s their problem.” He grabbed his tray and stood up, shoving his hand into his pockets as he walked off without another word.
You watched him go, noting the slight stiffness in his posture. Interesting.
Denki leaned toward you with a conspiratorial grin. “Sooo, what’s the deal? You got a death wish, or do you just like pissing him off?”
You chuckled. “He’s easy to piss off, you can see that from a mile away”
Mina laughed, nudging your shoulder. “Okay, okay, enough about Bakugou before he somehow hears us and explodes something.” She leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “But seriously, what’s your Quirk? You’ve been here half a day, and we still don’t know!”
The tall one with black hair and can shoot tape out of his elbow, Sero, chimed in as well. “And what’s up with you knowing all these teachers? I’ve seen them look at you-“
You laughed softly, putting your chopsticks down. “Well,” you started, “The reasons I know almost all pro heroes is because of my adoptive parent, Principal Nezu.”
Kirishima’s eyes widened, nearly dropping his drink. “Wait, what?!” he blurted out, leaning forward like he hadn’t heard you right. “You’re telling me Nezu—our Principal Nezu—is your adoptive parent? That’s insane!”
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table as his brows furrowed in curiosity. “Wait, hold on,” he said, eyes locked on you. “Does that mean you grew up at U.A.? Like, did you just… run around the school as a kid?”
You chuckle, “Technically I did, My quirk developed when I was around 3 years old, it was really destructive and out of control, so after classes nezu would always send someone to train with me.” You played with your food a bit, the rice going back and forth. “I trained a lot with all might, but also with endeavour, since it does resolve around fire..” You slowly turned a bit quiet, remembering a bit of the old times.
Mina’s eyes widened as she nearly dropped her chopsticks. “Wait, WHAT?!” she practically shouted, earning a few glances from nearby tables. She ignored them, leaning in closer with an excited gasp. “You trained with All Might and Endeavor? That’s not just cool—that’s, like, insane!”
She reached out and lightly shook your arm. “Dude! That’s top-tier hero training! No wonder you got into 3-A so easily!”
But then, as she watched you quietly push your rice around, her excited energy softened just a bit. She tilted her head, her big golden eyes studying you carefully. “Wait… was that, like… a good thing? Or was it, y’know, hard?”
Mina wasn’t the type to pry, but she also wasn’t the type to ignore when something felt off. So instead of bombarding you with more questions, she simply nudged you with her shoulder, offering a small, reassuring smile. “Hey, no pressure, but if training with those guys sucked, you totally have the right to say it.”
Then, as if to lighten the mood again, she smirked. “But also, real talk—was Endeavor as scary back then as he is now? Be honest.”
You sighed, “lets just say… I get why his kids aren’t talking to him anymore or at least as possible.”
Denki let out a low whistle. “Yikes. That bad, huh?”
Kirishima frowned, crossing his arms. “Man… that’s rough. I always figured he was tough, but—” he shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like the good kind of tough.”
Sero sighed, propping his chin on his hand. “Can’t say I’m surprised. The guy’s intense in all the wrong ways.”
Mina pouted, resting her cheek on her palm. “Ugh, that sucks. No kid deserves that.” Then, after a beat, she perked up. “But hey, you got out of it way cooler than him, sooo… win?”
Denki grinned. “Yeah! You turned out awesome despite all that. Kinda badass, not gonna lie.”
The table hummed in agreement, their support loud in their own way.
You smiled softly, the tension that had been building up easing out of your shoulders. You looked at the squad and laughed softly. You could get used to this
When the lunch period was finished and everyone resumed back into their respectable classrooms, aizawa announced that is was highly time to train. He stood in front of your desk, his gaze softer than normal with other students.
“You can watch if you want, but if you decide to fight than just now I won’t put you against an easy person. I know you can handle the top of the top here.”
Midoriya perked up at Aizawa’s words, turning toward you with wide eyes. “Whoa, Aizawa-sensei must really believe in your skills if he’s saying that!” His expression shifted into one of deep thought, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to start scribbling in his notebook.
“I mean, it’s rare for him to just say something like that outright… You must have already shown some serious potential for him to trust you against the strongest students in our class!” He muttered under his breath, glancing at you like he was trying to piece together a puzzle.
Mina smirked, leaning toward you. “He’s totally trying to analyze you already.”
You laughed, waving at midoriya. “I bet your quirk is just as awesome!” You compliment him, making him blush slightly and bakugou scowl. You turn your head towards him, one of your eyebrows raised to him. “What?” You started.
Bakugou clicked his tongue, arms crossed as he shot you an irritated glare. “Tch. Don’t go filling Deku’s head with crap.”
Midoriya tensed slightly. “Kacchan, that’s not—”
You slowly walked over to bakugou, your hands on top of his desk. “What, did I bruise your ego or something?”
The class collectively oohed at your boldness, while Mina practically vibrated with excitement.
Bakugou’s eye twitched, his scowl deepening. “Like hell I care. Just don’t go acting like Deku’s some big deal.” He jabbed a thumb at himself. “If you’re gonna be impressed by someone, it should be me.”
You rolled your eyes, which caused bakugou to stand up and slightly tower over you. “Wow, that was so not insecure at all. Cry me a river bakugou.”
Bakugou stood up straighter, his glare now intense as he leaned over his desk, his hands planted firmly on the edge. “You think you can talk to me like that, huh?” His voice was low and filled with a dangerous edge. “I’ll make you regret that, extra.”
“I can’t hear you, blasty.” You grinned up at him.
“Enough.” Aizawa shouted, making everyone halt in their position. “If you two want to fight, then do it. Take it to the training area.”
The class was silent, all eyes on you both as the tension crackled.
Bakugou’s lips curled into a sneer, his fists clenched tightly. “You think you can actually keep up, huh? Don’t cry when I wipe the floor with you.”
You stood your ground, unfazed by his words. "Don’t worry, I’ll leave you in the dust where you belong.”
Aizawa sighed, and shook his head. “These kids will be the death of me..”
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taglist:
@graythecoffeebean
---------
A/N: I'm so excited for you all to see this development happen, please do let me know it the comments what you think will happen next!
---------
The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.
That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.
English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3
main list < Previous chapter Next chapter >
---------
The first thing you remember are Nezu’s words."You are special.” He had whispered it one night as he tucked you in, his small, warm paw brushing against your cheek. Nezu had always told you the story of how he found you—an infant left at the gates of U.A., wrapped in midnight-colored silk, staring up at him with eyes too knowing for a child."You came like a blessing I didn’t deserve."
He had raised you with unwavering care, but even as he doted on you, he never shielded you from the truth."But with being special comes great danger."His small claws had pushed your bangs back as he kissed your forehead. "Remember, little light, while you shine, you will inspire others."
You weren’t like the other children. You developed your quirk faster than anyone had expected. And where you walked, destruction followed. Small flames flickered across your palms, a deep, unnatural blue that earned the name hellfire. It didn’t just burn—it consumed.
And so, Nezu made sure you were trained by the best before you could even ride a bike. You grew up surrounded by Pro Heroes, raised on the battlefield before you ever stepped into a classroom. Endeavour took the lead in honing your flames—his brutal, relentless training pushing you past your limits. Even as a child, you could sense the weight he carried, the bitterness in his voice when he told you to do better, be stronger. The burns on your body were proof of his expectations.
But All Might was always there. He was different. Where Endeavor taught you to endure pain, All Might taught you to rise above it. His lessons weren’t just about strength, but about hope, about what it meant to be a hero. About what it meant to be good.
“Remember Young one, only you will decide if you either become good or destroy others”
You always liked All might, even now as you helped him more and more. As his powers took a toll on his body and sometimes couldn’t do the basic things, you were there like a shadow. Besides Nezu, he was like a father to you. And that’s why when he brought the news with Nezu it felt like a dad’s telling his daughter bad news.
“You will enrol in our school, starting tomorrow.” Nezu had stated, the small blue flame in your hand suddenly dying out fast as you slammed your hand on the table. “Why?! I know the rules of the hero society better than anyone!”
“You might know the rules and laws of the society, but you don’t know the society” All mights spoke gently. “In order to become a great hero, you should also connect with other heroes, which you haven’t done since you’ve been homeschooled for 18 years.” He stated in an all matter of fact tone. Nezu nodded his mouse head in agreement. “It will be good for you little light” He hit you with the childhood nickname. He grabbed your hand, his paw as soft as ever as you slumped into your seat. Gently squeezing it two times, a secret code you always had with him.
“You have so much potential, you’ll be in aizawa’s care and he’ll help you as much as what we can do. Trust me, it will be good for you little light..” You sighed, frustrated this was happening but nodded nevertheless. “Okay Nezu..”
“I’ll do it”
~
When the day came around that you had to sit in class, you were extra early. You knew every pro hero that teaches personally, so because you know them you had some small advantages.
Like sipping coffee in the teachers lounge for example.
“My Little babyyyyy” Midnight cooed, holding you close as you made sure you didn’t spill hot coffee onto her. “All grown up and here for me to teach!” You whined and laughed softly. “Nemuriiii let gooo, I’m going to spill all my coffee!”
“Oh please,” Midnight—Nemuri Kayama—dramatically gasped, holding you tighter as if you were a long-lost child. “You think a little coffee is going to stop me from getting my hugs?”
You laughed, half-heartedly trying to wiggle free, careful not to spill the steaming cup in your hand. “Yes, actually! And I swear if you make me drop this, I’m making you make me another one”
Nemuri pouted, finally loosening her grip with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, fine. But only because I don’t want my little woven one walking into her first day of class with coffee stains.” She gave you a teasing smirk, ruffling your hair.
You huffed, smoothing it back down. “You act like you didn’t see me every day growing up.”
“Yes, but this is different!” she declared, stepping back and twirling a strand of her hair. “You’re finally a student here. A future hero. And I get to watch you kick all those wannabes’ butts.”
The ‘wannabes’ butts’ midnight is talking about is none other than class 3-A itself. Nezu, being as kind as he is, let you read through the files of each student of the class. The one that stuck out to you the most were two people.
Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou.
All might explained that Midoriya, also known as deku, was his predecessor. As you had watched a few videos that had gone viral off the sport festival, you understood why.
But Bakugou, Bakugou was something else.
You had heard about his explosive power—literally—but reading about him in a file and watching him fight were two entirely different things. His combat style was raw, unrelenting, as if he had something to prove with every move. He didn’t just want to win—he wanted to dominate.
But what caught your attention wasn’t just his strength—it was his drive. Unlike Midoriya, who had a quirk passed down by the world’s greatest hero, Bakugou’s power was his own. Earned. Honed. Sharpened like a blade against his own willpower. He wasn’t fighting just to be a hero—he was fighting to be the best.
And now, you’d be standing beside him, competing against him, proving yourself in the same class as him.
The thought sent a flicker of anticipation down your spine. As you said your goodbye to midnight, you threw away your stuff and walked out the door, onto the 3-A classroom itself.
The hallway buzzed with muffled chatter, the distant echoes of students settling into their classes. But as you stepped into Class 3-A, the noise died instantly. Twenty pairs of eyes snapped to you, scanning, questioning. Some confused, some curious, some wary.
You didn’t wear the standard U.A. uniform—not yet. Your attire was sleek, black with faint silver embroidery, a mix of functionality and elegance. The weight of your presence alone unsettled the room.
Then, of course, he reacted first.
“The hell?” Bakugou’s chair scraped back violently as he stood, his hands already crackling with sparks. His crimson eyes locked onto you like a predator sizing up prey.
“Who the fuck are you?” he snarled, his palm popping with tiny explosions. “You walk in here like you own the place—gotta be real dumb or real strong.” You tilted your head, completely unfazed. “You always greet new people by trying to blow them up?”
“Only when they piss me off.” His palm flared brighter.“And you’re pissing me off.”
The tension in the room was suffocating. A few students tensed—Midoriya’s eyes darted between you and Bakugou, Uraraka looked like she wanted to step in but thought better of it. Even Todoroki’s gaze lingered on you, analyzing.
You smirked. This class might be fun after all.
Before anything could happen a long, grey cloth snapped out of nowhere, wrapping around Bakugou’s wrist, immediately neutralizing his quirk.
“Enough,” Aizawa’s voice came low and sharp as he stepped out of the shadows, hair floating slightly, eyes glowing red. “Bakugou, sit down before I erase you completely.”
Bakugou clicked his tongue, ripping his arm free. “Tch. Whatever.” He shot one last glare at you before slumping back into his chair, arms crossed. Aizawa’s tired eyes flickered toward you. “And you—take a seat. Now.”
You met his gaze and, after a beat, nodded. No backtalk, no smart remarks. Just a slow, easy stride toward an empty desk. Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temple. “Great. First day, and we’re already starting like this.” He gave the class a pointed look. “Get used to it. She’s one of you now.”
The silence that followed was almost deafening. You leaned back in your chair, ignoring the questioning stares.
Let them wonder.
------
taglist:
@graythecoffeebean
---------
The Following Story is entirely out of my imagination, I do not mean harm when writing this story with any religion or culture.
That being said, BNHA does not belong to me, any other character beside the main character does not belong to me.
English isn’t my first language, please be kind <3
main list Next chapter >
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“Your majesty, you honestly can’t tell me she would be safer on that-“ “On that what? Exactly?” The cloaked figure held the smallest bundle in his hands. It held its finger gently with its own, smallest round cheeks in the world smushed against the inside of its palm.
“You’re making a mistake, you ought to be making a mistake.” The other voice exclaimed, as they paraded through the streets of Musutafu. Nobody even batting an eye on the two strange looking fella’s. “Your Majest-“ “ENOUGH.”
Blue flames surrounded the two of them, anger flowing through its veins. “You will not stand here to your king and belittle him on his plan to KEEP HIS CHILD SAFE.” His anger quickly deflated as the little one began stirring and making noise.
It gently rocked it, slowly but surely the little one opened her eyes. Full black ones stared back to one of it owns. The creature looked at the protesting one. “As long as Heaven knows she’s alive, she will never be safe.
he gently put her down infant of their destination. “You will be okay, my woven one..daddy will always be watching over you..” He kissed her forehead gently, a long nail stroking her cheek
He rang the bell, his eyes never leaving her as he stood up straight. “You’ll be safer here..my daughter.” As she began to fuss, a small mouse person heard the cries as he went on his nightly stroll. Seeing the mouse approach, he hid in the shadows, his eyes still onto her little form, trying to capture this moment, for ever in his brain imprinted.
“Oh my!” The little mouse man exclaimed, jumping up at his feet as he quickly ran towards the babygirl wrapped in a bundle. “Goodness, what are you doing here my dear?” He picked her up, the streetlights shining gently onto her face. He could tell she had a scar, all across her forehead, as if her head gotten cut open.
Nezu adjusted the baby in his arms, gently bouncing her as he inspected the scar running across her forehead. His sharp mind was already working through the possibilities—who had left her, why she was here, and most importantly, what had happened to her.
The infant stared up at him, unblinking, her solid black eyes like endless voids. And yet, there was something there—awareness. A knowing that no child her age should possess. “Hm,” Nezu hummed, brushing a paw over the scar. “You’re quite the curious one, aren’t you?”
The baby let out a small noise, neither a cry nor a coo, just a sound—like the whisper of something ancient trying to form words. The mouse’s ears twitched. “Strange…” he muttered, before shaking his head and tucking her securely against his chest. “Well, no matter. You’re safe now.” Behind him, hidden in the darkness, the cloaked figure tightened its jaw. They should leave. They had to leave. But the way Nezu cradled her—carefully, protectively—made its body hesitate.
For a single moment, an unbearable instinct clawed at their chest. To take her back. To run.
But it couldn’t.
Knowing she was safe, they blew a soft kiss towards his child, as they opened a portal into the ground. “I love you..” It whispered again, as it was the last thing it had ever told her for a long time.
All they found important was that she was safe.
HELLOOO, could ya write or do some of those texting things (I'm sorry, idk what their called😭) of poly bakusquad(bakugou, Sero, Denki, Kirishima, Mina and Shinsou) X fem Reader? PLSSSSSSS :)
!!!!MHA SMAU<3
Bakusquad X fem!reader
Content: not really anything bad, y/n says “keys”, smash or pass but it’s not smut just them joking.
Characters: Katsuki bakugo, denki kaminari, Mina Ashido, shinsou Hitoshi, ejirou kirishima, sero hanta x fem!reader
A/n: sorry if this isn’t good 😭 it’s pretty short because I wasn’t sure if it was okay or not. I’ve never done one like this before but I tried my best, I’ll definitely do more of these bc I like this idea!!! Also I’m still working on the bakugo x reader Drabble and smau! Won’t be too long I swear…
MASTERLIST
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!
𖤐 synopsis: mha boys accidentally confess. whoopz.
𖤐 pairings: izuku midoriya x reader, katsuki bakugou x reader, shoto todoroki x reader, eijiro kirishima x reader, denki kaminari x reader
𖤐 side note: yes, I know people have done this before..just don’t mind it it’s my first smau…and yes. I’m lazy; sssshh..also so sorry for them being blurry
taglist: [open]
mutuals: @https-bakugo @haikyuubby @va-3 @lotusstarr @tulippanes @gh0st-g1rll @luvseraphh
© property of kenzdolls
𖤐 synopsis: when intrusive voices from you quirk return with new threats in the middle of the night, you seek comfort from katsuki.
𖤐 trigger warnings: intrusive thoughts, self-doubt, fear of loss of control, and mild sleep disturbances.
𖤐 pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
𖤐 side note: this is a part two of ‘whispers in the dark’ because of the owner of this idea asking for a part two, so, tysm @montybooks
sleep had evaded you for hours. you'd tossed and turned in your bed at the u.a. dorms, trying every technique you knew to quiet your mind. counting sheep. deep breathing. focusing on happy memories from earlier that day—bakugou's hand in yours as you walked back from afternoon classes, the subtle way he'd positioned himself between you and mineta when the shorter boy had tried to approach you.
but as midnight approached, the whispers had returned with a vengeance.
you'll never be strong enough…
he only pities you…
what if you lost control during training?
what if you hurt someone?
what if you hurt him?
the last thought made you bolt upright, cold sweat beading on your forehead. that was new. the voices had never specifically targeted bakugou before.
he thinks he can save you. how cute.
but we've been with you so much longer…
you pressed your palms against your ears, knowing it wouldn't help but desperate to try anything. the darkness in your room seemed to shift and undulate, responding to your distress. a side effect of your quirk—shadows naturally bent toward you, especially when your emotions ran high.
"stop it," you whispered into the darkness. "leave me alone."
never alone. we are part of you. we are you.
your phone glowed on the nightstand. 12:03 am. too late to be bothering anyone, but…
"next time they start talking, come find me."
bakugou's words from earlier that day echoed in your memory, temporarily drowning out the malicious whispers. he'd been so certain, so unafraid. so different from everyone else who'd learned about your condition.
before you could talk yourself out of it, you grabbed your phone and a hoodie, slipping it over your sleep shorts and tank top. you padded barefoot to your door and peeked out into the hallway. the girls' floor was quiet, everyone sensibly asleep.
you made your way to the stairwell, avoiding the elevator that would announce your movements to the entire building. the boys' floor was on the one above yours. you'd never been to bakugou's room, but you knew which one it was—third door on the right. you'd noticed it during dorm tours at the beginning of the year.
he'll be angry. he'll reject you.
you're bothering him. weak. needy.
your hand hesitated, poised to knock. maybe this was a mistake. maybe he hadn't really meant it when he said to come find him.
he was just saying that. no one wants to deal with your problems in the middle of the night.
before the voices could convince you to turn back, you forced yourself to knock—three soft taps that sounded thunderous in the silent hallway.
no response.
see? he's ignoring you. or sleeping peacefully without a care about your suffering.
you were about to retreat when you heard movement from within the room. a thud, a muffled curse, then footsteps approaching the door.
it swung open to reveal a sleep-rumpled bakugou, hair even wilder than usual, wearing only a black tank top and gray sweatpants. his eyes were narrowed with irritation until they focused on you—then they widened slightly, the annoyance instantly replaced with concern.
"they're back?" he asked without preamble, voice rough with sleep.
you nodded, suddenly embarrassed. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have—"
before you could finish, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his room, closing the door quietly behind you.
"sit," he ordered, pointing to his bed.
his room was surprisingly neat, you noticed. the walls were lined with hero posters, mostly of all might, with a few books about quirk theory stacked on his desk. a weight set sat in one corner, and the faint scent of nitroglycerin—bakugou's natural scent—permeated the space.
"i really am sorry," you said, perching awkwardly on the edge of his bed. "i just… they were saying things. new things. worse things."
he doesn't care. look how annoyed he is.
but bakugou didn't look annoyed as he sat beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed. despite the hour and being woken up, his eyes were alert, focused entirely on you.
"what kind of things?" he asked.
you stared at your hands. "that i might hurt someone with my quirk. that i might… hurt you."
you felt him stiffen slightly beside you.
"as if you could," he scoffed, but his tone lacked its usual bite.
we could show him. we could show him how powerful we could be.
"that's the thing," you whispered. "sometimes i think they might be right. what if i lost control? my quirk… it feeds on negative emotions. fear. anger. what if one day i can't stop it?"
bakugou was quiet for a moment, considering. then he did something that surprised you—he took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.
"you know what i think?" he finally said. "i think your quirk isn't the problem. it's the fear."
you looked at him, confused. "what do you mean?"
"you're afraid of your power," he explained, his thumb absently stroking the back of your hand. "always have been, probably. so you hold back. you keep it all bottled up until it finds other ways out. like these voices."
he's wrong. we are your true power. let us show you.
you shook your head, trying to clear it. "the doctor said—"
"doctors don't know shit about quirks like ours," bakugou interrupted. "they have their theories, but they're not the ones living with it."
he thinks he knows better than professionals? arrogant boy.
"what would you suggest, then?" you asked, genuinely curious. no one had ever approached your condition from this angle before.
bakugou's free hand reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with unexpected gentleness. "you need to stop being afraid of yourself."
"that's easier said than done," you murmured, leaning slightly into his touch.
"i know," he acknowledged. "but think about it. when are the voices loudest?"
you considered the question. "when i'm stressed. when i've used a lot of my quirk. when i'm tired or afraid."
"and when are they quietest?"
the answer came immediately. "when i'm with you." it was true, even now—though still present, the whispers had faded to background noise the moment bakugou had pulled you into his room.
something like satisfaction flashed across his face. "and why do you think that is?"
don't listen to him. he's trying to take us away from you.
you frowned, ignoring the voice. "i don't know. maybe because… because you make me feel safe?" the admission made heat rise to your cheeks.
bakugou nodded. "and when you feel safe, you're not afraid of losing control."
there was wisdom in his words that surprised you. for someone so explosive, bakugou had remarkable insight into the nature of fear and control.
"so what do i do?" you asked softly. "i can't be with you every second of every day."
no, but we can. we're always here.
the corners of bakugou's mouth quirked up slightly. "wouldn't be the worst thing."
your heart skipped a beat at the implication, but you tried to stay focused. "i'm serious, katsuki."
"so am i," he said, shifting to face you more directly. "look, i'm not saying it'll be easy. but you need to start trusting yourself. your power isn't evil just because it's dark."
we could be so much more if you'd just listen…
"the voices disagree," you said wryly.
bakugou's eyes narrowed. "what are they saying right now?"
you hesitated, then decided on honesty. "that they could make me more powerful if i'd listen to them."
"and what do you want?"
the question caught you off guard. "what?"
"what. do. you. want?" he repeated, emphasizing each word. "not what the voices want. not what your parents want. not what the doctors say you should want. what do you want?"
no one had ever asked you that before. you'd spent so long trying to suppress your quirk, to be normal, to not succumb to the whispers, that you'd never considered what you might actually want.
"i want…" you began slowly, "i want to understand my quirk better. i want to use it without being afraid. i want to be a hero without worrying that i'll turn into a villain."
bakugou nodded approvingly. "good start."
empty dreams. we know what you really want.
you swallowed hard before adding, "and right now, i want the voices to shut up so i can sleep."
his expression softened almost imperceptibly. "lay down."
"what?"
"you heard me. lay down." he shifted to make room on his bed.
your eyes widened. "bakugou, i can't stay here—"
"why the hell not?" he challenged. "you need sleep. the voices are quieter around me. simple solution."
put that way, it did sound logical. but still…
"what if someone finds out?"
he rolled his eyes. "who's going to find out? and who gives a damn if they do?"
he just wants to take advantage of you.
the voice was weaker now, less convincing. you knew bakugou better than that.
"the voices think you have ulterior motives," you said with a small smile.
bakugou snorted. "tell the voices i have some fucking honor." but there was a hint of pink across his cheekbones that told you the thought had crossed his mind.
after another moment's hesitation, you gave in to exhaustion and lay down on his bed. bakugou stretched out beside you, far enough away to be respectful but close enough that you could feel his warmth.
"better?" he asked, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it.
you nodded, already feeling the whispers receding further. "much."
"good. now sleep." it wasn't a suggestion but a command.
a comfortable silence fell between you, broken only by the sound of your breathing gradually synchronizing with his. the voices had faded to barely audible murmurs, unable to penetrate the sense of safety bakugou's presence provided.
just as you were drifting off, you felt his hand find yours again in the darkness.
"hey," he said quietly.
"hmm?" you mumbled, already half-asleep.
"tomorrow after class. training grounds. you and me."
you forced your eyes open to look at him questioningly.
"we're going to work on your quirk," he explained. "no holding back. full power. i can take it."
alarm shot through you, momentarily banishing sleep. "katsuki, i don't think—"
"that's the problem," he interrupted. "you think too much. you're afraid of what might happen, so you never let yourself find out what will happen."
he doesn't know what he's asking for.
for once, you were inclined to agree with the voice. "it's dangerous."
bakugou's laugh was soft but genuine. "everything about being a hero is dangerous. but we train to control it, not avoid it."
his confidence was infectious, and you found yourself nodding despite your fears. "okay. tomorrow."
"good," he said, satisfied. then, more hesitantly, "and after that… maybe dinner? off campus."
your heart stuttered. "like… a date?"
even in the darkness, you could sense his discomfort with the explicit labeling. "call it whatever you want. just say yes."
a smile spread across your face. "yes."
he gave your hand a squeeze before releasing it. "now seriously, go to sleep. i need my rest if i'm going to deal with your darkness tomorrow."
the way he said it—not with fear or pity but with determination and maybe even a hint of excitement—made something warm bloom in your chest. as if your quirk was a challenge he was eager to face, not a burden he was reluctantly accepting.
this won't last. nothing good ever does.
but for once, the voice seemed distant and unconvincing. bakugou's steady breathing beside you was far more real, more immediate.
"katsuki?" you whispered, not sure if he was still awake.
"mm?" came the sleepy response.
"thank you."
he shifted slightly closer, his arm brushing against yours. "don't thank me yet. wait till after i kick your ass in training tomorrow."
you laughed softly, knowing his bravado was his way of saying "you're welcome." as sleep finally claimed you, the last thing you were aware of was the complete silence in your mind and the comforting warmth of bakugou beside you—a beacon in the darkness, keeping the whispers at bay.
for the first time in as long as you could remember, you slept through the night without a single nightmare, your shadows calm and still around you both.
taglist: [open]
mutuals: @https-bakugo @haikyuubby @va-3 @lotusstarr @tulippanes @gh0st-g1rll @luvseraphh
© property of kenzdolls
Ok, i read ur rules! And say in ur master list that you do mha? If you still do mha, (idk if this is ok to ask) but can you do some fluff + angst with bakugo x fem! Reader, where she has a black magic quirk, and from a very early age she’s heard voices in her head. And they stop for a bit but she heard them agian and freaks out! So bakugo notices shes veeery quiet and asks her whats wrong and she spills the truth about her quirk and how if she over uses it she hears voices telling her to do bad things(NOTHING SERIOUS)
Bakugo and reader have a sorta friendship but with something going on between them? (Mutual pinning)
I HOPE THIS IS OK!!! I read ur rules and i hope this isnt violating them 🙏😭
don’t worry it isn’t lmao! but I’d love to do this so tysm for sending this in! so without further ado. . . enjoy ദ്ദി(•̀ ᗜ <) !!
𖤐 synopsis: your quirk makes you different from others..you hear voices that give you malicious thoughts. but, your “friend” bakugou katsuki helps you silence them and explore both of your unspoken feelings for each other.
𖤐 trigger warnings: references to intrusive thoughts, mild psychological distress.
𖤐 pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
𖤐 side note: - - > 2nd part of this story
the voices had been quiet for months. you'd almost forgotten what it was like to have that constant background noise—the whispers that came with your quirk. black magic, they called it. the ability to manipulate shadows and dark energy, bending them to your will. it was powerful, useful even, especially during hero training at u.a.
but the cost was something no one else could see.
use us… we can make you stronger…
the first whisper came during lunch period. you froze mid-bite, your chopsticks hovering over your bento box as the familiar, slithering voice wrapped around your mind.
let us in… just a little more power…
"shut up," you muttered under your breath, closing your eyes tightly.
"the hell did you just say to me?"
your eyes snapped open to find bakugou katsuki standing over your lunch table, his crimson eyes narrowed with suspicion. of course, he'd choose now to approach. the two of you had this… thing. not quite friends, definitely not enemies. training partners who somehow always ended up paired together. late night study sessions that lasted longer than necessary. hands that lingered a second too long when passing notes.
"not you," you said quickly, heat rising to your cheeks. "sorry, i was just—"
he'll think you're crazy if you tell him. everyone always does.
"just what?" bakugou dropped into the seat across from you, his lunch tray clattering against the table. "you've been acting weird all morning. more than usual."
you managed a weak smile. "didn't know you paid such close attention, explosion boy."
he scoffed, but you didn't miss the slight pink tinge on his ears. "hard not to notice when you're spacing out during combat training. you nearly got yourself blasted."
you had almost forgotten about that. earlier in the day, during all might's class, you'd hesitated just a moment too long when the voices first started whispering again. bakugou had pulled his punch at the last second, his explosion detonating harmlessly to your left instead of directly in your face.
he's waiting for an answer. lie. lie.
"i'm fine," you said automatically, the rehearsed response you'd been giving teachers and classmates for years whenever the voices got bad.
bakugou’s eyes narrowed further. "bullshit."
the cafeteria around you buzzed with activity, your classmates laughing and chatting, oblivious to your internal struggle. kirishima and the others had left bakugou alone for once, perhaps sensing he had other plans for lunch period.
he'll leave you too when he knows the truth.
"i said i'm fine," you insisted, pushing your food away. your appetite had vanished the moment the voices returned.
bakugou leaned forward, his voice dropping to a growl that somehow managed to be both threatening and concerned at the same time. "you think i don't notice when something's off with you? we've been training together for months. i know when you're lying."
you stared at him, taken aback by his perceptiveness. it was easy to dismiss bakugo as just an aggressive hothead, but you'd learned there was so much more beneath that explosive exterior. he noticed things. he paid attention.
tell him… see how quickly he runs…
the voice was getting louder, more insistent. you pressed your palms against your eyes, trying to block it out.
"hey." bakugou’s voice softened marginally—as much as bakugou katsuki could soften anything. "let's get out of here."
before you could protest, he had grabbed both your bags and was heading for the exit, clearly expecting you to follow. and despite everything, you did.
he led you to the rooftop, a quiet spot where few students ventured during lunch. the spring air was cool against your skin, helping to clear your head slightly.
"talk," he demanded, dropping his bag and leaning against the railing.
you hesitated, wrapping your arms around yourself. "it's my quirk."
"what about it?"
don't tell him don't tell him don't—
"the voices are back," you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. "when i use too much of my quirk, they… they start talking to me."
bakugou’s expression didn't change, but he watched you intently, waiting for you to continue.
"they've been quiet for a while," you explained, pacing now. "i thought maybe i'd gotten better at controlling it. but this morning, during training when i used that shadow field technique… they came back."
he thinks you're weak. broken. useless.
you shuddered, and bakugou took a step closer.
"what do they say?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically careful.
you laughed bitterly. "oh, you know. the usual. use more power. do bad things. helpful stuff like that."
bakugou’s face darkened. "have you told anyone? recovery girl? aizawa?"
you shook your head. "my parents know. it's been happening since i was little. the doctors said it's a… side effect. the darkness my quirk controls, it's like it has a consciousness of its own. the more i tap into it, the more it tries to influence me."
he'll report you. they'll expel you. you'll never be a hero now.
"they're talking right now, aren't they?" bakugo asked suddenly.
you froze, surprised again by his insight. "how did you know?"
"your eyes do this thing," he said, gesturing vaguely toward your face. "they get all unfocused, like you're listening to something far away."
you'd never realized you had a tell. the fact that bakugo had noticed made something warm flutter in your chest, momentarily drowning out the malicious whispers.
"yeah," you admitted. "they're telling me you'll think i'm crazy. that i should have kept my mouth shut."
bakugou snorted. "if i thought you were crazy, i wouldn't waste my time training with you."
he's lying to make you feel better. he pities you.
"they're saying you're lying," you said softly.
without warning, bakugou closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders. the touch was firm but not painful—grounding.
"look at me," he demanded.
you raised your eyes to meet his fierce crimson gaze.
"do i ever say shit i don't mean? do i ever fucking lie to make people feel better?"
you couldn't help but smile slightly. "no. that's… actually one of the things i like about you."
something flashed across his face—surprise, maybe even pleasure—before he schooled his expression back to determination.
"then believe me when i say this. i don't give a damn about the voices. we all have shit to deal with. my quirk could blow my arms off if i'm not careful. half-and-half has his daddy issues. deku has… well, everything about him. your thing is voices. so what?"
he doesn't understand. no one can understand.
"it's not that simple," you argued. "they get worse when i use more power. and sometimes…" you hesitated, never having admitted this part to anyone before. "sometimes i want to listen."
instead of recoiling in horror as you expected, bakugou’s grip on your shoulders tightened reassuringly.
"of course you do," he said gruffly. "power is tempting. i know that better than anyone. remember the sports festival?"
you did. his rage, his refusal to accept a victory he didn't earn. the way he'd been chained to the podium, wild-eyed and furious.
"but you didn't give in," you pointed out.
"neither will you," he said with absolute certainty. "you're too stubborn."
despite everything, you laughed. "was that a compliment, bakugou?"
he released your shoulders, a hint of that familiar scowl returning. "don't get used to it."
he'll never understand you like we do.
the whisper was softer now, less convincing. you took a deep breath, focusing on bakugo's presence—solid and real in front of you.
"they're quieter when you're around," you admitted. "i don't know why."
a flash of something like pride crossed his face. "good. then i'll just have to stick around more."
your heart skipped a beat. "what are you saying?"
bakugou crossed his arms, looking somewhat uncomfortable with the turn in conversation. "i'm saying next time they start talking, come find me. i'll make enough noise to drown them out."
the offer was so perfectly, uniquely bakugo that it made you smile despite everything. this gruff, explosive boy who showed his care through actions rather than words.
"are you sure?" you asked. "it could happen anytime. middle of the night. during class."
he shrugged. "so? not like i sleep much anyway."
he'll get tired of you. they all do.
"the voices say you'll get tired of helping me," you said quietly.
bakugou stepped forward again, and this time when his hand reached for you, it was to brush a strand of hair from your face with surprising gentleness.
"let me make something clear," he said, voice low and intense. "i don't do shit i don't want to do. and i don't walk away from challenges."
"is that what i am? a challenge?" you weren't sure if you should be offended or flattered.
the corner of his mouth quirked up in that half-smile that always made your heart race. "you're a pain in my ass. but…" he hesitated, clearly wrestling with what to say next. "you're my pain in the ass."
coming from bakugou, it was practically a declaration of love.
he'll never—
the voice was cut off as bakugou’s hand cupped your cheek, his calloused palm warm against your skin. for once, his perpetual scowl was gone, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.
"tell the voices to shut the hell up," he murmured, "because i'm about to kiss you."
your breath caught in your throat. "bakugou…"
"katsuki," he corrected. "if we're doing this, you use my name."
"katsuki," you whispered, testing the feel of it on your tongue.
and then his lips were on yours, firm and warm and insistent. the voices that had plagued you all morning fell completely silent, drowned out by the thundering of your heart and the sensation of bakugou—no, katsuki—pulling you closer.
when you finally broke apart, the silence in your mind was blissful. whether it would last, you couldn't know. the voices would return eventually. but for now, with bakugou’s arms around you and his forehead pressed against yours, they couldn't reach you.
"they're gone," you breathed in wonder.
he smirked, that cocky confidence returning. "told you i could drown them out."
the bell rang in the distance, signaling the end of lunch period.
"we should get back," you said reluctantly.
bakugou didn't loosen his hold. "skip with me."
your eyes widened. "skip class? you never skip class."
"first time for everything," he shrugged. "besides, we need to figure out how to deal with those voices. might take all afternoon."
"and how exactly are we going to do that?" you asked, unable to keep the smile from your face.
his answering grin was both wicked and tender. "i have some ideas. but first—" he leaned in again, his lips brushing yours softly, "let's make sure they stay quiet a little longer."
as you melted into his kiss, you couldn't hear a single whisper—just the beating of two hearts and the promise that whatever darkness came, you wouldn't face it alone.
taglist: [open]
mutuals: @https-bakugo @haikyuubby @va-3 @lotusstarr @tulippanes @gh0st-g1rll @luvseraphh
© property of kenzdolls
𖤐 synopsis: touya finds himself desperately drawn to his equally dangerous colleague during an elegant gala, revealing vulnerability beneath his scarred exterior as he struggles with newfound emotions while they maintain control of their complicated dynamic.
𖤐 trigger warnings: mentions of violence, implications of criminal activity, power dynamics, manipulation, and descriptions of physical scarring.
𖤐 pairing: touya (dabi) todoroki x villain! gn! reader
𖤐 side note: this was my first actual fic i made..I just decided to post it now cause I’m obsessed with the song again...
the grand hall of the underground villain society's annual gala shimmered with danger and decadence. crystal chandeliers cast shadows across the marble floors where villains of all calibers mingled, their formal attire a stark contrast to the chaos they usually wrought.
you adjusted your gloves, running a finger along the intricate design that concealed the weapon beneath. as a newer but rapidly rising member of the paranormal liberation front, you'd earned your invitation through a string of perfectly executed missions that had left authorities baffled and the villain world impressed.
"enjoying the view?" a low, raspy voice asked from behind.
you didn't need to turn to recognize who it belonged to. the faint scent of ash and that distinctive voice gave him away instantly. dabi. the plf's flame villain with a penchant for destruction and a mysterious past that nobody dared question.
"i'm observing," you replied coolly, taking a sip of champagne. "there's a difference."
you finally turned to face him, allowing yourself a moment to appreciate how the formal black suit complemented his stapled skin and piercing turquoise eyes. unlike his usual casual attire, tonight he'd made an effort. the jacket hugged his lean frame, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing glimpses of his scarred chest.
"you clean up surprisingly well," you remarked with a half-smile.
"don't sound so shocked." his eyes never left yours as he moved closer. "though i could say the same about you. almost didn't recognize you without blood on your clothes."
you laughed softly, the sound drawing attention from nearby villains who quickly averted their gaze when dabi shot them a warning look.
"dance with me," he said suddenly, not quite a question but not entirely a command either.
you raised an eyebrow. "i didn't take you for a dancer, dabi."
"there are many things you don't know about me." he extended his hand, his eyes betraying a vulnerability that his smirk tried to mask. "yet."
the string quartet in the corner began playing something slow and haunting as you placed your hand in his. his skin was unnaturally warm—a side effect of his quirk—as he led you to the dance floor.
"i've been watching you," he confessed as his hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer than necessary. "since that mission in hosu city. the way you took down those pro heroes without hesitation... it was beautiful."
"careful," you warned playfully. "people might think you're developing feelings."
his grip tightened slightly. "would that be so terrible?"
you studied his face, noting the intensity behind his casual expression. dabi was known for his indifference, his detachment. yet here he was, holding you like you might disappear if he let go.
"you know how this works," you reminded him. "people like us don't do attachments."
the music swelled as he spun you effortlessly, bringing you back against his chest with practiced precision.
"tell me something," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "are you just using me to pass the time? or is there more?"
you pulled back slightly to look at him. "that's a dangerous question."
"i'm a dangerous man."
around you, other villain couples danced, their faces masks of calculated charm and hidden agendas. everyone was playing a role tonight. everyone except dabi, whose eyes burned with something raw and unfiltered.
"every time you walk away," he continued, his voice dropping lower, "i find myself wondering if you'll come back. it's maddening."
"dabi—"
"i go crazy," he interrupted, "because being anywhere but with you isn't where i want to be. do you understand what that's like? to have someone crawl under your skin that deep?"
the music faded into the background as you studied him. this wasn't the dabi that the league knew—the apathetic, sardonic villain who cared only for his mysterious agenda. this was someone else entirely.
"you're acting like i own you," you said carefully.
his laugh was bitter and short. "maybe you do. isn't that what this is? you pull the strings, and i follow. like a damn puppet."
the song ended, but neither of you moved to separate. around you, villains exchanged partners, clinked champagne glasses, and plotted their next atrocities. but in your small bubble on the dance floor, something electric and dangerous was building.
"let's get some air," you suggested, acutely aware of how his fingers were now intertwined with yours.
he followed you through the grand ballroom, past clusters of villains deep in conversation, and out onto a deserted balcony overlooking the city lights below. the night air was cool against your skin, a welcome relief from the heat of the ballroom—and from dabi's proximity.
"better?" you asked, leaning against the stone railing.
instead of answering, he moved behind you, his hands gripping the railing on either side of you, effectively trapping you between his body and the stone.
"no," he said simply. "not better at all."
you turned to face him, your back now against the railing. "what is it you want from me, dabi? we've had our fun, haven't we? the missions, the nights afterward..."
"is that all this is to you? fun?" his eyes narrowed, blue flames briefly flickering at his fingertips before he controlled them. "because for me, it's become something else entirely."
"careful," you warned again. "shigaraki wouldn't approve of... complications within the ranks."
"i don't give a damn what shigaraki thinks." dabi leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. "i only care about one thing right now."
"and what's that?"
"whether i'm yours," he said, his voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the party inside. "because you sure as hell are mine."
there it was—the raw desperation beneath his usual controlled facade. you'd seen glimpses of it before: in the way his eyes followed you during meetings, how his hand lingered on yours when passing equipment, the unnecessary risks he took to protect you during missions.
"this isn't you," you said softly. "the dabi i know doesn't beg."
something dangerous flashed in his eyes. "maybe you don't know me as well as you think."
his lips crashed against yours then, hot and demanding. it wasn't your first kiss—far from it—but there was something different about this one. something desperate and consuming that made your head spin.
when you finally broke apart, his breathing was ragged. "tell me you feel it too."
you reached up, tracing one of the staples that held his scarred skin together. "i've never seen you like this before."
"answer the question." his voice was strained. "am i yours? are you mine? i need to know i'm not just losing my mind here."
the vulnerability in his question struck you. for all his power, all his danger, in this moment, dabi was laying himself bare—something neither of you were accustomed to doing.
"we're villains," you reminded him. "we take what we want."
"and what do you want?" he searched your eyes for an answer.
you considered your options carefully. attachment in your world was a liability, a weakness that could be exploited. but there was something intoxicating about having one of the plf's most feared villains looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
"maybe i want you," you admitted finally. "but on my terms."
a slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features into something almost beautiful in its dangerous intensity. "i can live with that."
inside, the party continued—villains plotting, forming alliances, and breaking them just as quickly. but on the balcony, something new was taking shape between you and dabi—something that burned hotter than his blue flames and cut deeper than any weapon.
"you should know," he said, his fingers tracing a path down your arm, "i'm not good at sharing. what's mine is mine."
"i don't recall agreeing to be yours exclusively," you challenged, enjoying the flash of jealousy that crossed his face.
"you will," he promised, his confidence returning though the desperate need still lingered in his eyes. "i can be very persuasive."
the sound of the balcony door opening interrupted your exchange. toga's cheerful voice called out, "there you are! shigaraki's about to make an announcement. something big!"
dabi didn't take his eyes off you as he replied, "we'll be there in a minute."
when the door closed again, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "this conversation isn't over."
"i wouldn't expect it to be," you replied, straightening his tie with deliberate slowness. "but don't forget who's in control here."
his answering smile was equal parts submission and challenge. "wouldn't dream of it."
as you both rejoined the gathering inside, dabi's hand possessively at the small of your back, you knew that things had shifted irrevocably between you. in a world where power was currency and weakness meant death, you'd somehow gained the most dangerous kind of leverage—complete devotion from a man who burned everything he touched.
and despite everything you knew about the dangers of attachment in your line of work, you couldn't deny the thrill that came with it.
after all, what was villainy without a little risk?
taglist: [open]
mutuals: @https-bakugo @haikyuubby @va-3 @luvseraphh @lotusstarr @tulippanes @n3r0-5352 @gh0st-g1rll @majoryeager104
© property of kenzdolls
yuga aoyama:
none.
mina ashido:
none.
tsuyu asui:
none.
katsuki bakugou:
whispers at midnight (one-shot) whispers in the dark (one-shot) explosive hearts: a bday surprise (one-shot) unexpected feelings of explosions (one-shot) relationship headcanons
rikido sato:
none.
kyoka jiro:
none.
toru hagakure:
none.
tenya iida:
relationship headcanons
eijiro kirishima:
relationship headcanons
denki kaminari:
relationship headcanons
koji koda:
none.
izuku midoriya:
a hero’s promise relationship headcanons
mashirao ojiro:
none.
fumikage tokoyami:
none.
shoto todoroki:
relationship headcanons
momo yaoyorozu:
none.
ochaco uraraka:
relationship headcanons
hanta sero:
none.
mezo shoji:
none.
© property of kenzdolls
class 1A
ua students
vigilantes
pro-heroes
villains
civilians
© property of kenzdolls
𖤐 synopsis: the explosive hero-in-training reluctantly endures a surprise birthday party organized by his classmates, but finds genuine joy in the thoughtful gift and quiet moments shared with you.
𖤐 trigger warnings: fluff
𖤐 pairing: katsuki bakugou x gender neutral! reader (post-relationship)
the hallways of ua were surprisingly quiet as you made your way toward the heights alliance dormitory, clutching a small package wrapped in black paper with tiny orange explosion patterns. your heart hammered in your chest, almost rivaling the explosive quirk of the boy whose birthday it was today.
katsuki bakugou. april 20th.
you'd been planning this for weeks—the perfect gift, the right moment to give it to him, and most importantly, how to survive the encounter without becoming a victim of his infamous temper. dating bakugou for the past few months had been an adventure, to say the least. beneath that prickly exterior was someone fiercely loyal and determined, someone who pushed you to be better every day.
but that didn't make his birthday any less intimidating.
---
the morning had started with a flood of texts from your classmates, all coordinating for bakugou's "surprise" party—a surprise he'd undoubtedly see coming from a mile away.
"remember, 5 pm sharp!" mina had texted, followed by a string of explosion emojis. "and don't tell him!"
you'd spent your free period between classes frantically wrapping his gift, your mind replaying memories of how your relationship with the explosive hero-in-training had evolved.
it had begun during joint training sessions three months ago. you'd been paired together for combat practice, and unlike others who hesitated around his fiery temper, you stood your ground.
"you're not going to beat a villain by holding back, so don't hold back with me!" you'd challenged him.
he'd looked shocked for a moment before that trademark smirk spread across his face. "fine by me. don't cry when you lose!"
to everyone's surprise (especially his), you'd managed to hold your own. not win—bakugou was too skilled for that—but you'd impressed him. and impressing bakugou katsuki was no small feat.
after training, he'd cornered you in the hallway.
"you. train with me tomorrow," he'd demanded, more than asked.
and so began your regular training sessions, which gradually transformed from strictly professional to something more personal. you noticed how he'd adjust his techniques to help you improve, how his criticism, while blunt, was always constructive. the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought you weren't looking.
your first kiss had been after a particularly grueling session. both of you, sweaty and exhausted, had collapsed against the gym wall. you'd turned to say something, only to find his face inches from yours, those intense crimson eyes studying your face with an unfamiliar softness.
"you're not half bad," he'd mumbled, and then his lips were on yours, rough and demanding yet surprisingly gentle.
since then, your relationship had been as explosive and intense as the boy himself—full of heated arguments, passionate make-up sessions, and quiet moments of understanding that no one else got to see.
and now, his birthday was here, and you wanted it to be special.
---
according to kirishima, bakugou hated celebrations focused on him. "too much damn attention," he'd growl. yet you knew he secretly appreciated the acknowledgment—just not the fuss.
as you approached his door, voices from inside made you pause.
"deku, get that stupid banner out of my face!"
"but kacchan, it's your special day! everyone pitched in to—"
"i don't care! i didn't ask for this!"
"come on, man!" kirishima's cheerful voice. "it's just a small party! even all might sent you a card!"
you winced. so much for your plan to have a quiet moment with him. class 1-a had apparently beaten you to the punch with a surprise party. for a moment, you considered turning back, waiting until later when the chaos had died down.
"where's [y/n]?" bakugou's gruff question made you freeze. "if you extras dragged everyone here but didn't tell [y/n], i'm blowing this whole damn dorm up."
your heart fluttered. he was looking for you?
taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. the room fell silent instantly.
the door flew open to reveal bakugou himself, hair wild as always, crimson eyes narrowing when he saw you. behind him, the entire class froze in various stages of party preparation. midoriya was hanging a crooked "happy birthday" banner, kirishima and sero had armfuls of snacks, and ashido was attempting to set up a small music system. kaminari was in the corner, tangled in what appeared to be extension cords, while todoroki stood awkwardly by the window, holding a small wrapped gift.
"there you are," bakugou grumbled, something like relief crossing his features before his scowl returned. "these idiots decided to invade my room."
"happy birthday, katsuki," you said softly, holding out the small package. "i was hoping to catch you alone, but..."
his eyes darted to the gift, then back to your face. without warning, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the hallway, slamming the door behind him.
"hey!" came the muffled protests from inside.
"kacchan! we spent hours decorating!"
"bakugou, that's rude!" you chided, but couldn't help smiling. this was so like him.
"they can wait," he said, crossing his arms. "i've been dealing with their birthday crap all day. first, round face and deku ambushed me at breakfast with some homemade card that looked like a five-year-old made it. then glasses gave me some lecture about 'the importance of commemorating one's date of birth with proper reflection.' as if i give a crap."
you laughed, imagining iida's serious expression as he delivered what was probably a well-intentioned speech.
"then all might sent me a card with some american superhero on it," bakugou continued, rolling his eyes, though you noticed he didn't sound quite as annoyed about that one. "and now they've taken over my room like it's their right. i haven't had five minutes to myself all day."
"want me to come back later?" you asked, though you were disappointed at the thought.
"no," he said quickly, almost too quickly. his cheeks colored slightly as he realized his eagerness. "i mean, you're already here, so whatever."
"smooth recovery," you teased.
"shut up," he growled, but there was no real heat behind it.
"here," you said again, pushing the package toward him. "it's not much, but i thought you might like it."
he took it with surprisingly gentle hands, turning it over once before carefully tearing the wrapping paper. inside was a custom-made training journal, bound in leather with his hero name embossed on the cover in orange lettering. when he opened it, the first page had a handwritten note from you.
"to become the number one hero, you need to keep track of what works. no one works harder than you, katsuki. happy birthday. - [y/n]"
the rest of the pages were specially formatted for training regimens, with sections for technique improvements, quirk developments, and combat strategies. you'd also included some analysis of his recent fights from the training exercises, with your own observations on what made his moves effective.
in the very back, hidden between the last page and the cover, was a photo you'd secretly taken during one of your training sessions. bakugou was mid-explosion, his face lit by the orange glow of his quirk, a fierce grin of pure joy on his face. it captured everything you loved about him—his power, his passion, his absolute certainty in his own abilities.
bakugou was silent for so long that you started to worry.
"if you don't like it, i can get something—"
"shut up," he interrupted, but his voice lacked its usual bite. he was still staring at the journal, running his thumb over the embossed letters. his eyes had found the hidden photo, and you saw his expression soften in a way that made your heart race. "this is... good. really good."
coming from bakugou, that was equivalent to anyone else's effusive praise.
"you actually put thought into this," he continued, glancing up at you. "not just some random crap like the extras in there."
"well, i know how serious you are about becoming the best," you replied. "and you deserve tools that match your ambition."
something changed in bakugou's expression then—a softening around the eyes, a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. before you could react, he'd stepped forward, one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck.
"you get me," he said quietly, almost wonderingly. "everyone else just sees the explosions."
"i see all of you, katsuki. the good, the bad, and the explosive."
he laughed then—a rare, genuine sound that made your heart soar. "damn right you do."
his kiss caught you by surprise, fierce and passionate like everything he did, yet with an underlying tenderness that he showed to no one else. you melted into it, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled you closer, his free hand sliding to the small of your back.
the door suddenly flew open, and you both sprang apart to find kirishima grinning at you.
"sorry to interrupt, lovebirds, but we've got cake melting in here. very unmanly to waste good food."
bakugou's face flushed red—from embarrassment or anger, you couldn't tell. "hair-for-brains! ever heard of privacy?"
kirishima just laughed. "come on, birthday boy. everyone's waiting."
"don't call me that," bakugou growled, but he didn't protest further. instead, he tucked the journal carefully into his pocket and took your hand, his palm warm against yours. "those idiots in there probably got a cake or something. might as well not let it go to waste."
it was as close to "thank you for the party" as bakugou would ever get.
"lead the way, birthday boy," you teased.
he growled at the nickname but didn't let go of your hand as he pushed the door open, facing his classmates with what could almost be described as tolerance. "alright, you extras! let's get this over with!"
---
the party was actually fun, even by bakugou's standards, though he'd never admit it out loud. the cake was spicy chocolate—someone had done their research—and even the gifts showed that his classmates knew him better than he gave them credit for.
kirishima had gotten him a set of premium hand weights. "for when you can't get to the gym, bro!"
todoroki, surprisingly, had gifted him a high-end knife set. "you mentioned wanting to improve your cooking skills," he'd said simply, ignoring bakugou's suspicious glare.
midoriya's gift—a limited edition all might collectible that bakugou had been eyeing for months—almost caused another explosion, but you saw how carefully he set it aside rather than throwing it away.
but as the celebration continued, you noticed how he kept the journal close, occasionally touching his pocket as if to make sure it was still there. and throughout the evening, his eyes would find yours across the room, that rare smile appearing just for you.
at one point, kaminari suggested party games, which led to an intense round of "truth or dare."
when it was bakugou's turn, ashido grinned mischievously. "truth! when did you realize you liked [y/n]?"
the room fell silent, everyone waiting for the inevitable explosion. but bakugou just scoffed, his eyes finding yours.
"when they didn't back down during training," he said bluntly. "most people either fear me or try to 'fix' me. [y/n] just told me to bring it on." he paused, then added with a smirk, "plus, they called deku an annoying fanboy once, and that's when i knew it was meant to be."
"hey!" midoriya protested as everyone else burst into laughter.
you remembered that moment—it had been after midoriya had spent fifteen minutes analyzing bakugou's fighting style in excruciating detail, stars in his eyes the entire time.
"he's brilliant, but doesn't he ever turn it off?" you'd whispered to bakugou, who had looked at you with newfound respect.
the game continued, and by the time it circled back to you, most of the class had either embarrassed themselves or revealed surprising secrets. sero had admitted to using his tape to cheat on a middle school test. todoroki confessed he secretly enjoyed romantic comedies. uraraka had been dared to float iida around the room like a balloon.
"[y/n], truth or dare?" kirishima asked.
"truth," you decided, not trusting the gleam in his eye.
"what's your favorite thing about our explosive friend here?" he gestured to bakugou, who looked like he was considering murder.
you thought for a moment, aware of bakugou's eyes on you. "his determination," you finally said. "when katsuki decides to do something, nothing stops him. it's inspiring." you met his gaze across the circle. "and he pushes me to be better too."
something flashed in those crimson eyes—surprise, pleasure, and something deeper that made your pulse quicken.
"damn right i do," he said, but his voice was softer than usual.
---
the party started winding down around midnight. aizawa had stopped by briefly—"just making sure you're not destroying the building"—and seemed satisfied that the celebration was relatively controlled, at least by class 1-a standards.
as people began to leave, you started helping clean up, gathering paper plates and cups.
"leave it," bakugou said, coming up behind you. "they made the mess, they can clean it."
"that's not very heroic," you teased.
"neither is trashing someone's room for a party they didn't ask for," he retorted, but there was no real anger in his voice. in fact, he seemed almost... content? it was a strange look on bakugou's usually scowling face.
most of the class said their goodbyes, until only kirishima, midoriya, and a few others remained to finish cleaning.
"we'll handle the rest," kirishima said with a knowing grin, nudging midoriya who was obliviously gathering balloons. "you two probably want some time alone."
"mind your own business, shitty hair!" bakugou barked, but he didn't disagree.
taking your hand, he led you out of the dorm and onto the balcony at the end of the hallway. the night was clear, stars visible above the ua campus, a gentle spring breeze carrying the scent of cherry blossoms.
"thanks," he said abruptly, leaning against the railing. "for the journal. it's... exactly what i needed."
"you're welcome," you replied, standing beside him, your shoulders almost touching. "i'm glad you like it."
"and for not making a big deal about today," he added, turning to face you. "everyone else acts like i should be dancing around because i managed not to die for another year."
you laughed. "that's one way to look at birthdays."
"the only way that makes sense," he insisted. "but... i guess it's not terrible having people acknowledge it. even if they're annoying about it."
coming from bakugou, this was practically a heartfelt speech of gratitude.
"next year," he said in a low voice, moving closer so that his arm pressed against yours, "just you and me. no extras."
your heart skipped. next year. he was already thinking about spending his next birthday with you.
"it's a date," you promised, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you.
he turned to face you then, expression serious. "you know i'm not good at this... feelings crap."
"you don't say," you teased gently.
he glared, but there was no real heat behind it. "i'm trying to say something here."
"sorry," you said, fighting a smile. "go on."
he took a deep breath, as if preparing for battle. "you're important to me. more than... well, more than anyone. and i'm going to be the number one hero someday, which means i need people i can trust at my side. people who push me. people who understand me." his eyes locked with yours. "that's you."
coming from bakugou, this was equivalent to a passionate declaration of love.
"katsuki..." you began, emotion thick in your voice.
"don't get all sappy on me," he warned, but his hand found yours, fingers intertwining. "just... be there. keep training with me. keep challenging me."
"always," you promised. "as long as you do the same for me."
a genuine smile spread across his face—not his battle-hungry grin or his triumphant smirk, but something softer and more rare. "deal."
then he was kissing you again, one hand cupping your face, the other at your waist pulling you closer. you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of him against you, the subtle scent of nitroglycerin and something uniquely bakugou enveloping you.
when you broke apart, his forehead rested against yours, those crimson eyes unusually gentle.
"best birthday," he admitted grudgingly.
"just wait until next year," you promised with a smile.
he grinned, that familiar confidence lighting his features. "it better be even more explosive."
"with you, katsuki, how could it be anything else?"
as the stars shone overhead and the distant sounds of your classmates echoed from inside, you stood in comfortable silence with the boy who had captured your heart with his explosive determination and hidden tenderness.
loving katsuki bakugou wasn't easy—it was challenging, frustrating, and sometimes downright infuriating. but as he stood beside you, his hand warm in yours, you wouldn't have it any other way. because beneath all the explosions and anger was a heart that beat just for you, and a promise of many more birthdays to come.
taglist: [open] mutuals: @https-bakugo @haikyuubby @va-3 @lotusstarr @tulippanes @n3r0-5352 @gh0st-g1rll
© property of kenzdolls
masterlist: a curated collection of links, resources, or posts, all organized in one central post for easy access.
→ back to my introduction post
big personal note: some won’t have masterlist ready because I’m putting these for people to ask/commission ideas. they will have master-lists when I’m able to make one.
my hero academia:
full masterlist
jujutsu kaisen:
full masterlist
demon slayer (kimestu no yaiba):
full masterlist
bungo stray dogs:
full masterlist
adventure time:
full masterlist
detective comics (dc):
full masterlist
marvel (mcu):
full masterlist
stranger things:
full masterlist
arcane:
full masterlist
call of duty:
full masterlist
resident evil:
full masterlist
danganronpa:
full masterlist
undertale:
full masterlist
the quarry:
full masterlist
the walking dead games (twdg):
full masterlist
sonic the hedgehog:
full masterlist
doki doki literature club (ddlc):
full masterlist
exit side note: this part of my blog will always change depending on if i remember to do it or not. .
© property of kenzdolls
𖤐 synopsis: with the feeling of being disregarded from izuku, you try to end the relationship; but, izuku unexpectedly reels you back in with a surprisingly, odd way of an apology.
𖤐 trigger warnings: angst/fluff at the end
𖤐 pairing: izuku midoriya x gender neutral! reader
the afternoon sun cast long shadows across u.a. high school's campus as you made your way toward heights alliance, the dormitory where class 1-a resided. your footsteps were heavy, matching the weight in your chest.
today marked exactly two months since you and izuku midoriya had started dating, but instead of celebrating, you were dreading the conversation you needed to have.
the world outside the school walls had grown increasingly dangerous. villains were organizing, heroes were falling, and somehow in the middle of it all was your boyfriend—a sixteen-year-old with the weight of an impossible legacy on his shoulders and determination burning in his eyes that sometimes scared you.
you found him in the common room, notebook open on his lap, muttering analysis to himself as he reviewed footage of recent hero battles. his green hair was messier than usual, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. he hadn't noticed you yet.
"izuku," you called softly.
his head snapped up, and immediately his tired face transformed with a smile that made your heart ache. "hey! i didn't hear you come in." he closed his notebook and patted the spot beside him on the couch. "i was just studying some new techniques that could help with controlling—"
"can we talk?" you interrupted, remaining standing. "somewhere private?"
his smile faltered, concern immediately replacing his enthusiasm. "sure. my room?"
the walk up to the fourth floor was quiet, tension building with each step. izuku's room was exactly as it always was—all might memorabilia covering nearly every surface, analysis notebooks stacked on his desk, workout equipment in the corner. it should have felt comfortable by now, but today it just reminded you of how single-minded his focus could be.
"is everything okay?" he asked as he closed the door behind you.
you took a deep breath. "not really. i'm worried about you, izuku."
he blinked, confusion written across his freckled face. "worried? about me? why?"
"why?" you couldn't help the slight edge that crept into your voice. "have you looked in a mirror lately? you're exhausted. you're pushing yourself way too hard with this new blackwhip training. aizawa-sensei said you were in recovery girl's office twice this week."
izuku's shoulders tensed slightly. "that's normal for training. i have to master these quirks if i'm going to—"
"if you're going to what? save everyone? become the number one hero? die trying?" the words came out harsher than you intended, but weeks of bottled concern were finally spilling over.
his eyes widened. "that's not fair. you know how important this is."
"of course i know," you said, trying to keep your voice level. "the whole world knows how important it is. but i'm not dating the future symbol of peace or one for all or whatever. i'm dating you, izuku. the boy who might not live to graduation at this rate."
a flash of hurt crossed his face. "i'm being careful."
"no, you're not!" you gestured to the bandages peeking out from beneath his school uniform sleeve. "this isn't normal, izuku. most teenagers worry about exams and crushes, not villains targeting them specifically."
"i never said it would be normal," he countered, his voice quiet but firm. "when you said you wanted to be with me, i thought you understood what that meant."
the implication stung. "so i'm just supposed to watch you destroy yourself? smile and nod while you come back with new scars every week?"
"i'm getting stronger!" his voice rose slightly, a rare show of frustration. "every training session, every new technique—it's all to make sure i can protect everyone. to make sure i can protect you."
"i never asked you to protect me," you said. "i asked you to be with me. there's a difference."
the argument built like a gathering storm, months of unspoken fears and frustrations finally finding voice. the common room incident with bakugo where izuku had jumped in front of you unnecessarily. the hospital visit after his internship that he'd downplayed. the nightmares he wouldn't talk about that left him shaking and distant.
"you don't understand what's coming," izuku said, running a hand through his hair. "the league is getting stronger. all for one is—"
"stop." you held up your hand. "i'm not asking for hero intel, izuku. i'm asking for my boyfriend to care about his own safety as much as he cares about everyone else's." "i do care!"
"then why won't you ever slow down? why won't you let anyone help you? even all might is worried, i can see it when he watches you train."
his face flushed with emotion. "because there isn't time! because if i fail, people die! because all might chose me, and i can't let him down!"
the words hung in the air between you, heavy and revealing. this wasn't just about heroics or training—this was about a boy desperate to prove himself worthy of an impossible mantle.
you sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. "i can't compete with that, can i? with all might, with one for all, with your destiny or whatever you want to call it." "it's not a competition," he said softly. "it feels like one. and i'm losing." you reached for your bag. "maybe we rushed into this. maybe dating the successor to all might isn't something i'm cut out for."
panic flashed across izuku's face. "wait, what are you saying?" "i'm saying i need space to think, izuku. this isn't what i thought it would be." you turned toward the door, willing yourself not to cry. "i care about you too much to watch you self-destruct."
"please don't go," he whispered, voice cracking slightly. "not like this." but you were already reaching for the doorknob, determined to leave before the tears threatening to spill could fall. you needed time to sort through your feelings, to decide if loving a boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders was something you could actually handle.
"i'm sorry," you said quietly. what happened next occurred so quickly you barely had time to register it. there was a crackling sound, a flash of dark energy in your peripheral vision, and suddenly you felt something wrap firmly around your waist—not painfully, but with unmistakable strength. blackwhip.
the dark tendrils of izuku's newer quirk had extended from his hand, gently but firmly holding you in place. before you could protest, he had pulled you back toward him, spinning you around to face him. his eyes were wide with surprise at his own actions, a look that suggested he'd acted purely on instinct.
and then, in a move that shocked you both, he leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against your cheek—a desperate, impulsive gesture that silenced whatever words had been forming on your lips.
for a moment, neither of you moved. the blackwhip dissipated, but izuku didn't step away, his face inches from yours, cheeks burning crimson.
"i—i'm sorry," he stammered, mortification dawning as he realized what he'd done. "i didn't mean to use my quirk on you. that was completely inappropriate and—"
"izuku," you interrupted his spiraling apology. "you used blackwhip on me." he winced. "i know. i'm really sorry. i panicked and—"
"no," you said, something warm unfurling in your chest despite everything. "you controlled it perfectly. no damage. no pain."
his rambling stopped as he processed your words. "oh. yeah, i guess i did." a small, tentative smile crossed your face. "that's the first time you've used it without hurting yourself or breaking something. and you did it…for me." the realization seemed to dawn on him too, his eyes widening slightly. "i wasn't even thinking about control. i just didn't want you to leave."
you reached up, touching your cheek where his kiss still lingered. "and the, um…?"
his blush deepened impossibly. "that was impulse. total impulse. i'm sorry if it was unwelcome or—"
"it wasn't unwelcome," you said softly. the tension between you shifted, the anger from moments before not gone but transformed into something different, something more vulnerable. "i'm scared, izuku," you admitted, finally voicing the fear that had been driving your anger. "not of villains or fighting or any of that. i'm scared of losing you."
his expression softened, understanding replacing defensiveness. "i'm scared too," he confessed. "all the time. but that's why i have to keep pushing, keep getting stronger."
"but at what cost?" you reached for his hand, turning it over to reveal the scars that mapped his sacrifices. "these aren't just training injuries. these are pieces of yourself you're giving away." izuku looked down at his scarred hand in yours. "i know it seems that way. but every scar is a lesson learned. a mistake i won't make again."
"and what about us? am i just another lesson waiting to happen?"
he shook his head firmly. "no. never." he took a deep breath. "look, i can't promise i'll stop training hard. i can't promise i won't put myself in danger when lives are at stake. but i can promise that you're not competing with anything or anyone. you're…" he searched for words, "you're the reason i come back, not just the reason i fight." "that sounds nice, but what does it actually mean?"
"it means i'll try harder to find balance. to take breaks. to let you in when things get overwhelming instead of shouldering everything alone." he squeezed your hand gently. "and maybe…maybe you could help me remember that saving the world includes saving enough of myself for the things that matter after the fighting's done."
you studied his face—earnest, determined, those green eyes that had always seen more in you than you sometimes saw in yourself. "that's a lot of maybes."
"i know. but i'm willing to try if you are." he hesitated, then added quietly, "i don't want our first argument to be our last conversation."
despite everything, you felt a smile tugging at your lips. "you know, most couples' first fights are about something normal. like where to eat dinner or forgetting an anniversary."
he laughed softly, the sound a welcome break in the tension. "when have either of us ever been normal?"
"fair point." you sighed, some of the anger and frustration finally draining away. "for the record, using your quirk to stop someone from walking away is definitely crossing a line." he winced. "i know. it won't happen again."
"good." you stepped closer, poking his chest lightly. "because next time i might actually be mad enough that you'd end up in recovery girl's office for an entirely different reason."
his eyes widened slightly before he caught the teasing in your tone, a smile spreading across his face. "so…there will be a next time? for us, i mean?"
instead of answering immediately, you reached up and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, mirroring his impulsive gesture from before. "yes, you heroic idiot. but we have a lot to figure out." relief washed over his features. "we will. i promise." he hesitated, then added, "um, can i…i mean, would it be okay if i…"
you rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress your smile. "yes, deku, you can kiss me properly now."
his face lit up with the same determined joy you'd seen when he mastered a new technique, and as he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a gentle, tentative kiss, you understood something important: loving izuku midoriya would never be easy. there would always be dangers and fears and arguments about his reckless heroism.
but maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.
outside the window, clouds shifted, allowing late afternoon sunlight to stream into the room, illuminating the space between two teenagers figuring out how to balance first love against the weight of a world that demanded heroes.
"for what it's worth," izuku whispered as he pulled back from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, "controlling blackwhip was a lot easier when i was thinking about holding onto you instead of fighting."
you smiled, storing that confession away like a precious secret. "then maybe we've both learned something important today."
as the sun continued its descent outside, casting long shadows across u.a.'s campus, you and izuku sat on the edge of his bed, hands intertwined, talking about boundaries and fears and hopes—the kind of conversation that transforms a crush into something deeper, something worth fighting for.
your first argument hadn't ended your relationship. instead, it had given it roots, something solid to grow from. and in a world increasingly filled with uncertainty and danger, that was its own kind of heroism.
taglist: — open! [dm me if you’re interested]
mutuals: @https-bakugo @n3r0-5352 @kitkat13001 @haikyuubby @https-bakugo
© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —
hi hiii can u do dating denki plsss<<33
answer: 100%!! mind you some of these headcanons are ooc (ᵕ—ᴗ—) so sorry for the late response
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢, 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐦𝐡𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐮𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
denki first meets you during a training session at ua, where he accidentally overloads his quirk and creates a small electrical storm, leading to a hilarious and chaotic scene. you’re the only one who laughs, sparking an instant connection.
he’s initially flustered by your confidence and sense of humor, feeling like he needs to impress you with his lightning speed in training, even if it results in some clumsy mistakes.
denki often asks for your help with his studies, particularly in subjects he struggles with, like math, using his charm to distract you while secretly hoping to win your attention.
when you sit next to him in class, he gets a little nervous and fidgets with his hair, secretly enjoying the proximity and wishing he could casually spark a conversation.
he’s always down for group outings, and he often tries to sit next to you or offer to carry the snacks, hoping to steal a moment of your attention.
he once tries to show off by zapping a soda can to open it for you, but it backfires, creating a fizzy mess that only makes you laugh more, endearing him to you even further.
denki’s crush manifests in the form of a silly, boyish grin whenever you walk into the room; he can’t help but light up, much like his quirk when he’s excited.
he’s overly protective of you, especially during training sessions, often shielding you from rogue attacks with an electric shield, trying to play it cool but secretly worried about your safety.
he tends to send you random memes or funny videos to make you laugh, often accompanied by cringe-worthy puns about electricity that only he finds funny.
when you’re together in a group setting, he’ll boast about your abilities, trying to impress you and subtly show that he admires your skills, often getting a little competitive.
if you catch him staring at you, he’ll quickly look away, blushing and hoping you didn’t notice, internally screaming about how cute he thinks you are.
denki might even try to spark up conversations about your favorite subjects, awkwardly fumbling over his words, but genuinely wanting to know what you’re passionate about.
denki surprises you with spontaneous dates, like taking you to the nearest arcade to challenge you in games, where he either wins or loses dramatically, making you both laugh.
he’s the kind of boyfriend who sends you good morning texts with cute electric puns and a lightning bolt emoji, setting the tone for your day with positivity.
he loves giving you electric hugs, literally buzzing with excitement whenever he sees you, but he’s careful not to overload you with his quirk, so it’s more like a gentle charge.
denki encourages you to embrace your quirks and talents, often cheering the loudest during your battles and reminding you that you’re amazing just the way you are.
he’s always there to lend an ear, especially when you’re feeling down, lighting up your mood with his goofy antics and unwavering support.
dates often end with him trying to impress you with some flashy electrical displays, even if it means making a little mess; he finds joy in seeing you smile at his attempts.
denki would make it a point to remember special dates, celebrating your anniversaries with a small surprise—like a handmade gift powered by his quirk, showing just how much he cares.
© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —