do you think Endeavor hates and neglects natsuo more because he’s identical to him and even if natsuo had a fire quirk endeavor would still hate him because it reminds him of his biggest failure, which is himself
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Paid In Full- Unexpected Charges
Summary: In the final war you aided Edgeshot in bringing Bakugo back to life with your healing quirk. However the damage done to your body from the backlash was irreversible. You could no longer be the hero you dreamed of being. You still tried to live life and even moved away for a bit. But now you’re back and Bakugo has been your aggressive nurse, but when he finds out things you haven’t told him he feels like he hadn’t paid you back at all. So when he finds out Mina is moving out, he feels like he finally has the opportunity to.
tags: slowburn and mutual pining/angst
a/n: this is truly a self indulgent fic/series for sure. Thank you for all the comments and love🥹
The sunday sun was beautiful, the type of atmosphere that felt like the start of a great day. Inside Bakugo’s car, the air was cool and smelled faintly of expensive upholstery and the lingering scent of his nitroglycerin sweat.
You sat in the passenger seat, your fingers tracing the smooth lid of your water bottle.
You had double checked your bag three times: electrolytes, salt pills, emergency snacks, ice pack. The “disabled diaper bag,” as you sometimes bitterly called it. But today almost felt normal, you almost felt normal again.
“Coffee,” he grunted, the word more of an order than a question as he flicked his blinker. “We’re stopping. You want the usual?”
“Oh! Yes please. But my treat through? I finally got my paycheck yesterday.” Your face lighting up with a genuine smile.
Bakugo’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. He knew your “paycheck” was a pitiful compared to his Pro-Hero salary, and the idea of you spending your hard earned money on a drink he could buy a thousand times over felt like a personal insult.
“Keep your damn money,” he snapped, his voice rough but lacking its usual edge. “I’m already driving. Don’t complicate it.”
“Ka-Bakugo…no-I really want to—”
“I said no.” He cut you off, then paused. There it was again, the slip of his first name. The air in the car felt charge with a strange, unvoiced electricity. He didn’t look at you, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead. “And lose the formal crap. If you’re gonna use my name, just say it. I’m tired of hearing you trip over your tongue.”
You were a bit stunned but not surprised. You settled back into your seat, a small smile tugging at your lips that Bakugo caught in the reflection of the window. It made him want to drive off a cliff and jump for joy at the same time. He ordered for both of you, black for him, exactly what you liked. He swiped his card before you could even reach for your wallet.
As you pulled away from the coffee shop, a familiar track began to filter through the speakers. It was your favorite song, a song that Bakugo secretly found too slow and floaty, but he’d added it and other favorites of yours to a specific playlist weeks ago just so it would come on shuffle when you were in the car.
He watched you from the corner of his eye. Usually, you were a ball of nervous energy, but as the melody filled the car, you leaned your head back against the headrest. Humming the tune of the song and taping your fingers to the rhythm.
You looked utterly, completely safe. Bakugo felt a jolt of fierce, protective pride. He took the next turn with uncharacteristic gentleness, easing onto the brake so the car didn’t disrupt you.
He even reached over and subtly adjusted the AC vent so the cold air wasn’t blowing directly on your skin, his fingers lingering near the dial just a second too long.
As you neared the apartment complex, he broke the silence, his voice dropping to a low muter so he wouldn’t startle you out of your peaceful trance.
“We’re five minutes out,” he said, clearing his throat to mask the softness in his tone. “The place looks good on paper, but if the guy is a prick or if you don’t feel safe, we’re walking. Don’t get stars in your eyes just ‘cause the place has a nice window, you hear me?”
He dared a glance over at you, the light caught the amber of your eyes, your skin was glowing. Making you look so beautiful in his eyes, his expression softening for a fraction of a second before he caught himself and snapped his gaze back to the road.
The apartment was everything the floor plans had promised, yet warmer. It wasn’t one of those glass and chrome boxes that felt like a surgical suite. It had thick molding, honey colored wood floors, and massive windows that invited the sky inside. The sunlight hit the hardwood floors in a way that made the dust motes look like floating gold.
He was halfway across the kitchen, wrenching at the faucet handle to test the water pressure, when he heard you let out a soft, breathless laugh.
“Katsuki, look,” you murmured, stepping into the center of the living area. You turned in a slow circle, your arms spread slightly as if you were trying to catch the sunlight. The chronic tension that usually lived in your shoulders seemed to have vanished. You looked up at the ceiling, a radiant smile breaking across her face. “It’s so open and the natural light here. It’s calming, right?”
Katsuki froze, his hand still gripped around the cold metal of the faucet. The sight of you bathed in that warm light, looking like you’d finally found a place to breathe, sent a violent surge of domestic longing through him.
Suddenly, his imagination, usually reserved for combat tactics and plans, swerved violently into a domestic future he hadn’t realized he was craving. He imagined his boots kicked off by the front door. He saw himself catching you when a dizzy spell hit, lowering you onto a rug he’d make sure was thick enough to cushion any fall. He could see both of your keys sitting on a bowl by the front door next to his own.
The leasing agent walked both of you to one of the bedrooms, you folded your arms smiling softly as you looked around the room in awe.
She’d look good waking up here, the thought betrayed him, sliding into his mind before he could throw up a blockade. I’d put the bed against that far wall so the sun doesn’t hit her eyes too early. She needs the sleep. But I could wake her up in better ways.
He scowled, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. Stop it, he scolded at himself. She’s looking for HER room. Don’t be a creep. She’s finally getting some sort of independence back after everything she gave up for you. Don’t go colonizing her space with your damn weird daydreams.
But still he imagined his clothes hanging in a closet next to yours. Curling up next to you in bed after a long day. As you walked back out to the main area you went over to the giant window, leaning your forehead against the glass with a contented sigh.
His brain refused to shut up. He saw a dining table by the window, not a small one, but something sturdy. Something where he could sit across from you while you share a meal that he made.
Husband, the word hissed in the back of his mind before he could stop it, mocking his attempt at restraint. I want to be the one who carries you over this threshold and never lets her leave. He didn’t just want to be your “friend” or your “hero.” He wanted the legal right to be the one the hospital called if something went wrong. stop…stop you don’t get this, you’re not entitled to her.
“The building is reinforced for high-impact quirks, just in case of villain activity,” the leasing agent, a silver-haired man in a sharp suit, explained as he led both of you through the wide hallway. “And as you can see, the layout is open concept. Very accessible.”
He paused by the third bedroom, gesturing toward the window. “There are also great elementary schools around this neighborhood. Top tier ratings.”
You felt the air leave your lungs. You looked at the agent, then glanced to look at Katsuki.
The man, sensing a shift in the atmosphere but misreading it entirely, chuckled nervously. “It’s a very family oriented area, perfect for you and your wife, sir. We find that couples appreciate the security for their little ones.”
A heavy, suffocating silence dropped over the room. For a split second, Katsuki didn’t explode. He didn’t even yell. He just stood there, his jaw working, his gaze fixed on a spot on the wall as if he were trying to incinerate it with his mind. His ears, however, were turning a violent shade of crimson.
“Oh! Oh, no, no!” you said, waving a hand dismissively, though you could feel heat rising to your cheeks. “We’re not married. We aren’t even dating! Ha-no.. He’s just…my roommate.”
The word just hit Katsuki like a physical blow to the gut. He stood a few paces behind you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets to hide the way his knuckles had turned white.
The agent’s face went through three different shades of pale. “I-oh, my apologies! I just assumed with the way you were discussing the apartment. I am so incredibly sorry.” He bowed nearly ninety degrees.
“No no it’s okay, I can see why you’d think that. Just roommates,” you said trying to calm your heart that felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. You don’t want to just be roommates if you were being completely honest with yourself, you’ve been daydreaming about being his wife and what your children would look like the entire tour. I can’t, no I won’t tell him these thoughts. He didn’t even say anything about it. Hurt and sadness tugging at your heart.
Bakugo felt a flare of irrational anger, not at
you necessarily, but at the sheer correctness of the agent’s mistake. It should have been true. But hearing you clarify your status so quickly, so naturally felt like a door slamming shut in his face.
We aren’t even dating.
“The floor plan is open,” Katsuki said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly rasp that brooked no argument. He didn’t look at you, he couldn’t. If he did, he might see the “gratitude” he so desperately feared, instead of the love he was desperately seeking.
“The school doesn’t matter,” he continued, stepping past you to inspect the door knobs. His heart was beating with a frantic, jagged beat. “She needs accessibility. That’s what we’re looking at. Like she said we are just roommates. Not that 'family’ crap.”
You felt your chest tighten and your heart hurting. You could easily imagine it, but your brain wouldn’t let you truly believe that he could ever love you like this. That he would get caregiver fatigue one day is realize that this was a mistake.
The agent faltered, his smile twitching. “Of course, Mr. Bakugo. My apologies.”
You looked at Katsuki’s back, your laughter dying into a small contemplative frown. You reached out to touch his arm, then pulled back, you fingers curling into your palm. It’s not like you didn’t want what the agent to said to be true. You did.
Katsuki felt the phantom heat of your hand near him and hated himself for wanting it. Right…I’m her “caregiver”…just a roommate, he reminded himself, the thought tasting bitter as he imagined some other idiot getting you the way he wants you. I’m the guy who owes her a life. That’s the only role I get to play. Even if I don’t see it as a debt she must see it that way.
“Is the ventilation filtered?” Katsuki barked, turning his head just enough to catch the edge of your silhouette in his peripheral vision. “If the air’s crap, it triggers her migraines. Check the specs on the HVAC or we’re walking.” Glaring at the agent and giving a sharp side eye to you.
He was being a jerk, and he knew it. It was the only way he knew how to drown out the sound of your voice telling a stranger that you guys were nothing more than a logistical arrangement.
The tension in the room was so intense that the agent was stammering about leaving you both to “discuss the logistics in private and going to get more information,” and practically bolted toward the front door.
Once the click of the lock echoed, you crossed your arms, trying to shake off the awkwardness. You looked around at the crown molding and the sheer square footage.
“Okay, Katsuki. Enough. How much does this cost? Because this is insane and I-I can’t help afford this. This is a Hero’s salary apartment, not a… whatever I am now apartment.”
You shouldn’t have to afford anything, he thought, his gaze dropping to your lips before he jerked his eyes back to the window. You should just have it. Everything.
“Shut up,” Katsuki said, finally turning to face you. His voice wasn’t loud, but it had that finality in it that made people stop in their tracks. “I told you to stop looking at the price tag. I’m the one signing the lease. My name, my money, my choice.”
“But it’s not fair!” You stepped toward him, your frustration bubbling up. “You’re basically subsidizing my entire existence! I want to contribute, I need to contribute. You’re going to resent me. You’re going to wake up and realize you’re paying for a roommate who can’t even stand up some days. Let’s just find a smaller place, or—”
“I said shut up,” he barked, taking a step into your space. He looked around the sun drenched room, his expression oddly solemn. “You think I picked this place because it’s fancy? I picked it because the hospital is four minutes away. I picked it because the floor is cork-lined under the wood so if you hit the deck, you don’t crack your damn skull. I’m not 'subsidizing’ you, y/n. I’m buying my own damn peace of mind.”
He looked you dead in the eye, his gaze fierce. “I can’t be on patrol wondering if you’re trapped in a bathroom because a door jammed or if you’ve fainted in a kitchen with no ventilation. This place fixes that. So quit making it about 'fair’ and start making it about staying alive. You got it?”
You looked at him, your throat tight. You realized then that he wasn’t being a “caregiver.” He was being a strategist. He was fighting a war against your illness the only way he knew how with overwhelming force and preparation.
“Okay,” you whispered, a small, shaky smile returning. “Okay. But…” you tried to lighten the mood, “you have to give me like, a 24 hour notice before you bring anyone over. I don’t want to be caught in my pajamas with a bag of ice on my head when you’re trying to be the 'No. 1 Bachelor.’”
Katsuki scoffed, rolling his eyes so hard it looked painful. “Like I’d bring any of those idiots here. They’d probably trip over your water bottles and sue me.” His mind was not letting go of the image of you in your pajamas.
You laughed, a real belly laugh. Before you could overthink it, before you could tell yourself that he was out of your league or that this was a mistake, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist. You pressed your face into his chest, smelling the woodsmoke and expensive detergent.
“Thank you, Katsuki,” you murmured into his shirt. “Really.”
Bakugo froze. His arms stayed awkwardly at his sides for three long seconds, his heart hammering a rhythm against your ear that felt suspiciously fast. Slowly, with a grunt of annoyance, he rested a heavy warm hand on the back of your head, his fingers tangling briefly in your hair. It took everything in him to not plant a kiss on your head.
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get snot on the shirt.”
The walk back to the car was slower than the walk up. The adrenaline of the tour was slowly fading, leaving behind that heavy domestic warmth that he was still desperately trying to shove into a box and kick under a mental bed.
Still you were still standing and looking good. The physical toll of the tour, the standing, the sensory input of a new environment, usually would have you leaning against a wall by now, your POTS flaring or your eyes losing focus. He was so proud of you. But the excitement seemed to be acting as a temporary shield and he was worried about the aftermath. You were humming that same tune from the car, your footsteps light against the pavement.
“I think this is it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice airy and full of a relief that made his chest ache. “The agent said he’d hold the application for 24 hours. I can actually see myself living there. I can see myself… being okay. What about you?”
Katsuki opened the passenger door for you, his hand lingering on the frame. He watched you slide into the seat, you looked so natural in his car, in his life really. The thought of you in that apartment with someone else without him was an unwelcome thought. It felt like a jagged pill he couldn’t swallow.
He slammed the door shut, a bit harder than intended, and marched around to the driver’s side. He didn’t start the engine immediately. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel, staring straight through the windshield at the brick facade of the building.
"Yeah and It’s a start,” he grunted, his brain still haywire with images of a life with you that he was terrified of wanting. “But we’re gonna need a schedule for the move. I’ll get Kirishima and some of the other idiots to haul the heavy furniture. You aren’t lifting a single damn box.”
“Katsuki, I can help with the small stuff—”
“No, you can’t. You’ll overexert yourself and then I’ll have to spend the night in a hospital chair. We’re doing this my way.” He paused, his throat tightening. “Once we get the approval and finish the accessible upgrades, I’ll bring you too look at some furniture…I don’t want your garbage couch.”
You tilted your head, tired smile on your lips. “Wow you’re really invested in this place, huh?”
“Of course I am,” he snapped, finally turning the key. The engine purred to life, a steady vibration that mirrored the frantic thrumming in his veins. “It’s a big step for us. I’m not letting you live in some death trap apartment and ruin the progress you’ve made.”
The word hung in the air like a live wire, sparking and dangerous. Us.
The silence that followed was deafening. Katsuki felt the blood rush to his ears, a heat so intense he was sure he was about to spontaneously combust. He hadn’t meant to say it. He had spent the last hour meticulously building a wall between “Your Life” and “His Help,” and with one clumsy syllable, he’d knocked the whole thing over.
He didn’t look at you. He couldn’t. If he saw you confused, or worse, if he saw you realizing exactly what he’d just implied, he might actually drive the car into a lake.
“For us medically!” he barked, his voice cracking slightly as he threw the car into reverse. “For the recovery process! Since I’m the one who has to check in on you! An apartment is a big step.”
You didn’t say anything. You didn’t move, you had to consciously breathe. You decided to pretend like you didn’t hear that.
“You’re right especially since you help me out so much,” you whispered. “it is a big step for us medically I mean compared to where I was last year this is great progress. Baby steps you know!” you forced a painful smile, somehow it felt like the car was moving slower not faster which just raised the panic in you more.
He swallowed hard, his jaw locking so tight it hurt. He wanted to take it back. He wanted to yell that it wasn’t medical it was for you. That if it was up to him you’d be looking at houses and the elementary schools for your hypothetical family. But then he remembered how quickly you denied that idea of you being a couple.
Just roommates
“Yeah, baby steps, whatever,” he muttered, his scowl deepening as he pulled out onto the main road. “Just… don’t lose the damn application. We’ve got work to do.”
🩵TAGS: @ghostinggecko @stereading @darhinadadragon @thel0v3hashira143 @lovehazelle @charityjoy22 @prettydivinegirl @tengensfavfourthwife @snoozebun @c0quin @nuo0n @atticuswastaken @takoyakitakii @womanlover0 @amayaaaxx @luvzbloomx @mruizsworld @lillyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
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Finished the first MHA illustration! Selling for $10
7” x 10” mixed media on heavy cardstock
(It’s metallic gold by the way ✨)
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also, i’ve only seen 2 people do this and that’s enough for me to feel weirded out . am i crazy or is using scenes where aizawa is very much a minor when he has PLENTY of scenes of him as an adult in edits where you’re talking about how fine is weird??? im not crazy for raising an eyebrow right ????
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Watching It All Bleed Out
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/PYcviIU
by Sadsongsandcoffee
Izuku knew he wasn’t destined for a happy life. He knew it when he was abondaned at a crack house at 9. He knew it when he was abused for 4 years and he knew it when his innocnence was unwillingly taken from him. What now? Well, 1 year later Izuku is on a hunt. Hunting down every last one of the fuckers who hurt him all while leaving a trail for the police force and the heros to follow until he’s caught or killed. Izuku doesn’t really have a prefrence.
Words: 812, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Sex
Categories: F/M, M/M
Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Midoriya Izuku, Inui Ryou | Hound Dog & Midoriya Izuku
Additional Tags: Child Abuse, Self-Harming Midoriya Izuku, Past Rape/Non-con
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/PYcviIU
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Mirko is having a relaxing and fun night in the water! 🌙🐰
Follow me on Twitter, where I also post other works as well if you’re interested!
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is there anyone that does commissions in the my hero academia art style? asking for a friend (i’m the friend lol)
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introduction!
hey yall, idk if anyone will see this, but i’m an aspiring writer! i can write headcannons, short stories, and imagines for various things! you can call me leigh and i go by she/her! i’ll write for AOT, MHA, saiki k, naruto, invincible, and various shows just message me!
much love,
Leigh!
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Important question:
Answer
finally got around to it after… a while…
As a bonus here’s my method I used to count how far apart everything was (and I still got the right side off by two pixels 💔)
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Ochaco hate HAS and NEVER will make any sense. If you have concerns over her character that’s fine but absolutely hating her for certain things that can apply to other characters just makes you hypocritical.