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bbyangyl

deku's wife

𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂

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bbyangyl · 15 days

Text

OUT OF MY HEAD, HALF BURSTING ┊ MIDORIYA IZUKU

synopsis: japan’s sweetheart and saviour is in a quirk induced coma. you’re the only one that can bring him back.

tags: GN reader, post canon au, pro hero deku, quirk accidents, fluff + angst, hospitalisation, mutual pining, intimacy, technically doctor/patient but they know each other, friends to lovers, reader has quirk (‘dream walker’), memory/dream sharing, referenced depression, getting together, kissing, cheesy idc idc

wc: 5.2K

In your years wading through patients' memories, you’ve found that people have the most uncanny ability to resign themselves to their fate. You’ve wondered time and time again whether it’s instinctive to ruin things—if humans couldn’t help but stumble and make a mess of the things around them.

You recall that thought process now with a weary sigh, as your eyes skim over the patient's name for the tenth time in as many seconds. Midoriya Izuku.

“Well? Are you gonna do it or not?”

You’ve been staring at the medical file for long enough that an uncomfortable silence has dawned upon your office. Two weeks prior, a villain named Catatonic used her quirk to force Deku into a comatose state, that which he has yet to wake from. Even after the liberal use of quirk inhibitors, countless visits from Eraserhead and the administration of various stimulants, Deku would not stir. Realistically he should’ve roused from the coma naturally as soon as the quirk was cancelled. But he hadn’t, and his doctors can only assume it’s because he can’t, or refuses to.

Thus the case in your lap. A last resort.

“I’ll do it,” you intoned, thumb flicking at the corner of the manila folder. There’s already a deep crease there. The file itself is the heaviest you’ve ever had in your hands. Dense in a way that makes you ache. You and Deku are good friends—the kind of friendship that forms mainly because you frequent the same places. That place in particular being the hospital, except you were there to work, and he was often wandering the hallways listlessly to burn off the dregs of whatever sedatives he’d taken or visiting with patients.

Awkward small talk eventually blossomed into real, fulfilling conversations, and you started to like him, a lot more than you should. You kept the memory of his small, sincere smile close to your chest; nothing like that dazzling grin he wore on duty, it was softer, something private, and you relished being on the receiving end of it.

He was skilled at talking around his injuries. Sometimes if you felt especially bone-weary after a shift you’d be so relieved to see him that you forgot to ask. That sits with you. Deku is a hero. A good one, the best one. He’s brilliant at what he does—keeping people safe, protecting them from harm. In the entirety of his career, it appears he rarely, if ever, turned that care and consideration onto himself. You’re not a licensed therapist, and barely a doctor. Still you contemplate his medical history with a cold sense of regret.

“You realise there’s a large possibility I’ll end up seeing a lot of confidential stuff while I’m in there”.

“Don’t care. S’not like you can tell anyone”.

“I don’t think you understand how invasive this will be. I’ll see personal things. Private things, Bakugo. He won’t be happy”.

“Don’t care. If he doesn’t like it then maybe he should fuckin’ wake up”.

“This might not work, you know,” you finish tiredly.

Bakugo arches his brow at that. Despite the shadows under his eyes there’s no defeated slope to his shoulders, only a fierce scowl. “Either you can do it or you can’t,” he says, voice unsteady as if reeling between rationality and outright aggression. “You’re supposed to be the best at what you do”.

“I am the best at what I do, Bakugo. I can promise you I’ll find him”.

“Then what’s the damn problem?”

The file feels heavier. It feels like a foregone conclusion. You swallow, your throat dry. You don’t bother attempting a smile. You’ve lost the will to maintain your professional veneer.

“I can’t promise he’ll want to come back”.

Dream walker.

At twelve years old you thought it made your quirk sound whimsical, and gentle, and not at all the invasive thing that it actually is. After all, your reach didn’t end only at dreams. You were able to project your consciousness into another’s mind if it pleased you, parse through every memory, ambition, fantasy, trauma and fear, and manipulate them however you liked. Back when your control was non-existent you would drift into people’s heads whenever you slept like some wayward soul and saw far too much far too young.

The need to understand yourself and your quirk is what drove you to studying medicine. Neuropsychology, mainly. You carved meditative techniques into the very recesses of your own brain and learned to keep your consciousness tightly moored but had no real ambition beyond that. After the war and the complete upheaval and reform of hero society, it was difficult to find your place.

Until Okumura Yukiko.

At the small age of eight, Yukiko fell under the effects of a severe nightmare quirk, and despite the quirk being canceled she couldn’t wake up naturally. You had carefully walked through the delicate threads that made up her young mindscape—quirk-infested by formless shadows with knife-sharp teeth and worse, eerie figures that wore the appearance of her father—you found her trembling inside her mothers figmental wardrobe, took her hand, and guided her out.

When you came to she was curled up in the swaddle of your arms, trembling still, but awake. Her timid incantations ring true in your ears even now. Those tiny little thank you, thank you, thank you’s inspired the person you are today. Not quite a doctor, or a therapist. A specialist for special cases.

Something in your gut told you that traipsing into Midoriya Izuku’s mind wouldn’t be simple. That it would permanently change things. This isn’t some stranger, or a patient you’d never cross paths with again. He’s important to you in a way others aren’t.

Your hand hovers over his face, fingertips brushing his temple. You push your fingers into his thick green hair, rich in colour and soft, no knots to catch on your knuckles. His friends have been visiting in shifts, keeping him comfortable and presentable.

Bakugo had managed to keep the Hero Commission at bay for the time being, but if you came back without Midoriya tomorrow there would be far more than one scowling man looming in your office. Though the possibility left a bad taste in your mouth you can admit, in the privacy of your thoughts, that you’ve contemplated prolonging his recovery for the sake of allowing Midoriya rest. There must be something keeping him under, his genuine reluctance or worse; you’ve been reassured repeatedly of All for One’s death and the absence of the previous quirk holders but it’s best to exercise vigilance.

Midoriya does not react, not even a twitch of his nose, but there’s a flutter beneath his eyelids and a sleepy-sweet warmth to him that has you smiling, fond. Tucking your feet around the legs of your chair, you scoot it forward and bend closer, elbows resting on the edge of the hospital bed. “I’m not sure you can hear me in there. Maybe not. But I hope you won’t hate me for this,” you tell him.

Midoriya’s face remains serene as ever—more so than you can remember. It makes you wonder how much pain and discomfort he’s been hiding throughout your interactions. The tension has been sapped from his expression, lashes fanning over his cheeks. You’re close enough to count each individual freckle. Lightly, your thumb taps the space between his brows. “There are a lot of people out here that love you. They’re waiting for you to wake up, so I’ll have to have a look around your head a bit. Okay?”

Nothing. Heartbeat monitor pulsing a healthy rhythm, broad chest rising and falling, Midoriya continues to sleep. You sigh and cast a final glance around the private hospital room. The clock reads 18:22. Outside the window you see a single cloud, wispy as a dandelion, slowly disintegrate across the dusky sky. You make a cradle with your arm, head resting in the crook while you take Midoriya’s hand and try to relax. Anticipation turns in your gut. Years of experience aside, you’ve never really acclimated to the feeling of that first step into another’s subconscious.

Pressure gathers inside your skull as your quirk activates. You inhale a quick, wounded breath at the sensation. Your eyes roll back, vision swallowed by abrupt darkness, and you jerk against the distinct sensation of falling as your stomach roils. You’re overwhelmed by a cacophony of images and sounds—a determination that happiness would come, then moored to the burden of expectation, any optimism muffled under exhaustion and pain, replaced swiftly by a sense of discontent, grief and regret that swelled over time.

And then everything stops.

Your arms feel empty. Your chest feels hungry. You ache with it, the disquieting loneliness. Fog leaks into the memory, surroundings concealed beneath a thick mist. Behind you is a small pond. There’s a notebook soaking in the water. The koi are mouthing curiously at the weathered corners, faint black tendrils of ink curling off the charred pages. Scrawled boldly across the top is ‘Hero Analysis for The Future: No. 13’. Your strikingly young reflection ripples as you plunge your hand in and fish it out, holding it at arm's length as you shake the excess away.

Sufficiently less soaked, you draw the notebook to your front and carefully turn the cover to read the first page. You can feel the slight indentations on the back where a pen has been pressed hard enough to score the words through the page. Written inside, smudged but undeniable, is Midoriya Izuku’s name.

“Uh—excuse me…” a shaky, pitched voice comes from behind you, belonging to a very familiar pair of teary eyes. Midoriya is not just small, he’s scrawny. His hair is longer, unable to decide on which direction it wants to grow, and his middle school uniform is slightly ill-fitting, as though his mother bought it a size bigger for longevity. He ducks into the higher collar to hide his reddened face when you look at him.

The urge to bundle him up and hide him from the world is fierce. The situation is odd, but you offer a smile and his blush worsens. “Is this yours?” you ask, holding up the notebook. You try not to grimace at your own childlike voice. Midoriya nods frantically. His hands flex around the straps of his backpack. Smaller than the broad palms you’re familiar with, neither scarred nor crooked, trembling where they motion to clasp around the notebook. Your fingers brush and he attempts to swallow the yelp that bubbles in his throat.

“Thank you,” he stammers, pressing the notebook flat to his own chest. Midoriya swallows. His gaze never strays from you, growing brighter with each passing second as the idea in his head takes shape.

“Do you go to school here?”

“Oh,” you blink and the shadows have elongated. The pond is now hugging a school building. You recognise it despite never having seen it before. Aldera Junior High. “I don't,” you answer, sounding sorry. He predictably deflates. “I live close by, though!”

Midoriya perks up again. He shifts his weight between each foot. Red faced and unsteady, he quietly asks, “Do you think we could be friends?”

Your mouth slacks a bit, answers dying in your throat. You look down at your hands, palms upturned and unblemished. The dappled sunlight passes through your incorporeal form. Interaction with anything aside from the true patient during your work is incredibly rare though not entirely unfounded; people who daydream in vivid detail or ruminate chronically on old regrets usually had false memories in excess. Their minds seem to naturally meld around your intrusion, but they never went so far as to seamlessly incorporate you. Which can only mean one thing.

You fit because Midoriya has imagined this numerous times before—befriending you as a child.

Before you can respond you’re being dragged abruptly into a memory, the echo of a blinding flash of pain rippling through you. A reflexive gasp has your chest heaving and you curse at your lack of control. There’s barely a shard of light. Behind you is a hard, jagged surface but below is loose, uprooted. Attempts to move are futile, and agonising. You slump into the displaced rubble, silt and icy embrace, and listen. From above there is only a haunting silence but only a few feet ahead you hear muffled crying and Bakugo’s strangely tinny voice.

Your vision adjusts in increments, from pure darkness to a soft outlined blob to a comfortingly familiar silhouette. Midoriya is poised like an Atlantean statue, holding up the creaking structure and keeping it from crushing the young girl cowered in front of him.

Another wave of pain washes over you as the rubble groans. Midoriya bites back a whimper. His body is sinew and bone pulled taut, skin stretched over a drum. Everything seemed to swell dramatically around him.

“We’re almost there, kid. Two minutes,” Bakugo’s voice spills jarringly from the bulky earpiece hugging Midoriya’s ear. “Now look at Deku for me. You lookin’?” the young girl does as he commands. You see her trepidation falter at the easy smile Deku is wearing. “Bet he’s got a big dumb grin on his face right now, yeah?”

“Y—yeah,” she echoes, clutching the dirtied hem of her dress.

“You think he’d be smiling if there was anythin’ to be scared of?”

Her shoulders slant, the tension released, and she offers a tremulous smile of her own, “No”.

But you can feel, quite viscerally, how scared Deku was in that moment. The nauseating pain in his arms has dwindled into numbness and he daren’t spare himself more than the occasional shallow breath, as if the bloating of his lungs alone might disrupt his balance. Not once does his smile falter.

The surroundings warp again. You struggle against the whiplash, flung unwillingly into another memory. Breath forced from your lungs, the echo of Izuku’s pain dissipates in a blink and you land on unsteady feet, coughing and spluttering in the middle of an eclectic café covered in tinsel.

A sign written in cursive above the chalkboard menu reads ‘Mean Mug’. Melodious Christmas music plays quietly overhead, and the bell above the door is soft enough to get lost in the smooth notes. You’re cocooned by heat and met with bold patterned wallpaper. The unifying palette seems to be warm-toned colours; red, orange and brown come together amidst the mismatched decor to create a cosy atmosphere.

A half heartedly disguised Midoriya shuffles awkwardly by the counter, looking up at the door with trepidation every time the bell chimes to signal another customer. He grins once Uravity arrives in a casual disguise of her own, eyes still bright beneath the shadow of his cap.

They order and settle in a quaint alcove away from the windows and any prying eyes. Neither hero notices your presence as you seat yourself at their table and listen to their conversation. There are things you don’t understand. Code words to be used when discussing sensitive matters outside of their agencies. Inside jokes that you weren’t there for. But most curious of all is the knowing look on Uraraka’s face when Midoriya mentions that he saw you at the hospital that day.

“You’re hopeless, Deku-kun,” she says, as fond as she is amused. “What was your excuse this time?”

Midoriya clears his throat. He grips his cup, pressing until his knuckles turn white. It draws your attention to the thin cast splinting his ring and middle fingers together. “I broke my fingers sparring with Kirishima”.

You remember that, though too entrenched in his memory to attempt receding into yours for details.

“So you leapt halfway across the city to have them stuck together despite the fact that your agency has an on-site infirmary,” Uraraka’s hair falls in a gentle swoop beneath her jaw as she laughs. Midoriya shrinks into himself ever so slightly and her eyes soften. She pokes at his forearm. “C’mon Deku—why haven’t you asked yet? Do you really think you’ll get rejected?”

Glancing back and forth between them, your heart beats a tattoo across the inside of your ribs. You feel as if you’ve both missed something quite important and heard too much. You push your chair backwards and fall away from the table, and the memory, before Midoriya can respond.

With renewed determination—and heat rising to your cheeks—you reign in your quirk, steering cautiously through Midoriya’s subconscious mind as you should’ve in the first place. Images flicker in and around your periphery, each as desperate to draw you in as the last.

You see Midoriya crying, bleeding, lashing out in anger. You see him in a sterilised room, lulled by monotonous beeps, flesh stitched back together. You hear the doctor's voices coalesce into white noise. You watch as he’s handed crudely drawn thank you cards, coffee-stained police reports and thick manila envelopes marked as confidential in large red letters.

You turn away as Eraserhead approaches, a solemn expression, a quiet clink accompanying his footsteps, unnaturally heavy to one side, a young girl with silver hair following right behind him.

Your heart leaps to your throat when he screams in agony. You look down. There’s blood running down the street in rivulets, skin coming apart like wet paper.

You close your eyes. Next you risk a glance All Might is there, thinner than ever. He’s sitting in a wheelchair by a large window swaddled in a thick knitted blanket, watching over the city, smiling.

You turn away, feeling a pang of grief. Midoriya is expressionless, examining his battered body in the mirror, condensation still lingering on the glass, tendrils of heat curling upward as the shower drain gurgles.

Then he’s in a dark room bringing a stranger's hand to his mouth, kissing the centre of their palm, drawing the finger into his kiss-bitten mouth and sucking with a hazy gleam in his eyes.

It’s overwhelming. You stumble and suddenly Shouto is eating across from Izuku. He brings his chopsticks to his lips, noodles hung limp between them. “It’s obvious you like each other. You should just confess,” he says before shovelling his food.

Too private. You turn on your heel and find a patient of yours on the bed, unresponsive. Izuku is beside you, muttering under his breath, thumb pressed to the shadow beneath his lip. He reaches back to brush your wrist and offers a tentative touch of reassurance. You watch yourself lean against him for a moment and then retreat, grateful for his consideration, unneeding of it, and desperately wanting it, all at once.

The scene ripples violently. A reporter is staring up at Izuku with sparkling eyes. Her hair cycles through an array of colours as she shakes with excitement. “It’s amazing, Deku-san,” she insists. “For your spirit to be so heroic that it physically steers your body… that’s special!”

Izuku conceded with a strained laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. You feel how his stomach knots. “I used to think so too,” he says, sounding far away.

It’s the middle of the night somewhere when your search finally comes to a halt. You find you’ve landed on an empty street, in that dense, heavy darkness that makes you feel like the only person in the world who’s awake. There’s a tall residential building hugging the pavement. Intuitively, you know this is where Izuku lives.

Your footsteps are made heavy by Izuku’s lingering hurt and exhaustion. It’s disconcerting, the way he feels about his apartment. Coming home should be effortless. People come home in the same way they draw breath. But to Izuku, it's a weary, miserable journey that he must consciously think about and do. His perennial loneliness is overwhelming, a near physical force repelling you from opening the large glass door.

One foot in the lobby and the surroundings undulate. You’re dropped in the middle of his living room. It’s vacant. There’s a large box of case files tucked under the coffee table, an old takeout box left out on the counter, a blanket strewn haphazardly over the couch cushions. You pinch the soft fabric and rub it between your fingers, bringing it to your nose as you’re overcome by the urge to smell it. Izuku’s warm scent floods your senses.

Something thuds outside, followed by a tinkling of keys on a chain. Your blood runs quicker as the front door abruptly opens. Izuku looks harried as he ducks into the genkan, quite visibly frayed. The upper half of his hero suit is unzipped, pushed down to hang over his hips, littered with debris and dry mud. You hold your breath as he kicks off his shoes and lifts his head, meeting your wide-eyed gaze. The air around you is charged. Trepidation prickles at your nape.

Then the shadows over his stormy face recede. Izuku gentles, light returning to his previously empty eyes. “I’m home,” he breathes. “I missed you”. His voice shivers down your spine—you know in your gut that this is him, the real Izuku, but that fact is hard to believe while he’s looking at you like he wants you.

“Welcome home,” you smile back, slipping the blanket around your shoulders as you move toward him. “Hard day at—?”

Your intentions are to sit him down, keep him calm so as not to be ejected, and explain what’s happening, but before you have the chance his larger body crowds you against the wall—the dull impact reverberates through your ribs, knocking the breath from your lungs and he’s kissing you as if it’s something he always does.

Though it’s more of a collision than a kiss. The sensation is indescribable. Information spills into your mouth, your quirk reflexively absorbing his every fantasy, ache and want. Your knees almost buckle. The blanket puddles at your feet. Fingers snake into his thick hair, nails dig into his roots where skin becomes earth as you try to reciprocate his fervour.

Under your tongue you feel the cut on his lip, under your palms the dark swell across his cheek. You shake off the cloud of desire. Too many lines have already been crossed. “Izuku,” you whine. His name comes naturally now; you know him deeply enough. Blunt teeth graze at your jaw, your throat. You lean away for air only to catch a glimpse of another angry ivory-red bruise peeking from beneath his loose collar. “Izuku,” you tried again. Then louder. “Izuku, that’s enough”.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Izuku rasps as he rears up from the crook of your neck with wide, glassy eyes.

“No—I’m,” your heart beats hard in your ears. Dread sinks low in your belly. “It’s me. I’m really here, Izuku. You’ve been away for too long. I had to use my quirk. We need to wake up”.

“Wake up? You’re… oh,” his eyes grow wider, then shutter closed on a shaky exhale. The cut on his bottom lip has started bleeding again. Rivulets seeped into the cracks between his teeth and stained his gums red. You yearn for the searing heat of his hands as he releases you and staggers backwards to scrub at his face. “Oh my god”.

“Wait. Please don’t throw me out,” you say quickly, reaching to clutch at his wrist in case he panicked. Izuku tenses at the contact only to relax a beat later, his fingers spreading over his eyes so he can get a peek at you. “It took me forever to find you here. There’s a lot of stuff in your head”.

“I won’t. I wouldn’t,” he mumbles. You could collapse in relief. He’s not angry, he’s embarrassed.

“Thank you. I promise I tried not to look at anything too private”. Your mind didn’t make it easy, you think. It was almost like he wanted me to see everything.

Izuku groans and lets his hands drop to his sides in defeat, revealing an entirely pink face. You keep your fingers curled around his wrist, his pulse light and fast. “Okay. I’m okay. We should probably sit down for this,” he eventually croaks, a tremulous smile working its way across his lips. “Drink?”

You pick up the blanket and make your way to the couch while he briefly disappears into the kitchen. Around you the apartment takes on a rosy sheen. A dull clink shudders through the silence as Izuku sets a cup on the coffee table in front of you. It’s your favourite work mug down to the smallest details.

“You remembered this old thing?”

Shaped like a cat, the handle curved in and away like a feline’s tail. It’s piping hot, steam already curling up from it like a crooked finger, like the invitation he meant it to be.

Izuku nodded awkwardly, perched so far forward that it stretched credulity to say he was on the couch at all. He tracks your movements with intensity when you lean to pick up the hot drink. The initial sting to your palms quickly dwindles into numbness as you bring it closer and realise what’s inside. Hot chocolate. The surface sprinkled with those small, cube shaped marshmallows that he likes.

You swallow and feel the warmth spread through your body. A smile pulls at the corner of your mouth as the thick, saccharine flavour floods your senses, washing back the bitterness and thawing your anxiety. You can hear the tension in Izuku’s shoulders snap as he slumps forward, arms hung over his knees and head low in relief. His reaction is oddly vindicating, if not contagious.

“How long have I been asleep?” he asks. “Time is weird here”.

“You’ve been comatose for over two weeks,” you reply. “They tried everything they could before Bakugo insisted on bringing me in. You have a lot of people waiting for you”.

Izuku inhales sharply. He makes an aborted motion to scoot closer before thinking better of it. Your attention strays to the nervous wringing of his battle worn hands. Endeared, you put your mug down and close the distance yourself. Pressed thigh to thigh, you envelop his tightly curled fists, bringing them into your lap. The shaky breath he takes is loud in the otherwise quiet room.

“Honestly I’m surprised you’re still working”.

He looks at you with an unsure, watery smile, sunlight caught in glassy eyes. His voice is thick as he asks, “What do you mean?”

You smile sadly and run your thumb over his knuckles. “You’ve been on patrol. I thought you might’ve locked yourself in your head because you needed a proper break—and who could blame you, really. But you’re working yourself thin even in your dreams”.

Izuku huffed a laugh, more breath than humour. “I love being a hero. It’s what I’ve always wanted,” he says, his voice tight. You sink into his side and feel his diaphragm stutter. “But it isn’t everything. It felt like I was suffocating and I needed something more. Something to come home to for a little while…”

His red-rimmed eyes quickly return to his lap when you meet them. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Your quirk really is incredible”.

You can feel the shame swatting at you like a summer-born heatwave, reminded of just how deeply you’ve invaded his privacy, and how easily you overstepped your bounds.

“I’m so sorry,” he continues, at the same time that you tell him, “I’m sorry, Izuku”.

“Please. Let me go first,” he murmurs like a question. You nod your assent. “I’m sorry I forced myself on you. I thought you were a part of my imagination, like the rest of this place. I should have realised you weren’t. I’m sorry,” he rambles on. “I wanted to be closer to you but I got carried away and I’m sorry”.

“You couldn’t have known. I should have told you it was me as soon as you walked in,” you firmly interject. Izuku doesn’t look any less stricken in your periphery, cheek sunken where he’s gnawing at the flesh. “And you didn’t force anything. I hardly pushed you away,” your brow wrinkles and you smile despite yourself. “I got a little lost in your head, too. Not my most professional moment. But I wouldn’t want to leave either, if we were cuddled up in here all day”.

“Really?” Izuku blinks. Hope colours his cheeks. He clears his throat and shifts in place as he tries very hard to appear unaffected. “You don’t think it’s creepy—me picturing all this with you?”

You think of that young boy yoked with the burden of expectation and feel your heart crack. You can still taste his desires. They’re insipid, belying their age, as though they’d lingered long enough to stale. Izuku treasured his friends and fans', their love and loyalty; yet he felt guilty for allowing them to foster such a blind faith in his goodness. He was a man with faults like any other, capable of making mistakes, of inflicting harm. More than anything Izuku longed for someone to see the darker, uglier corners of his life, and make room for all of him. You wanted to be the one to do it.

“I’ve imagined this with you. This and more,” bolstered by everything you’ve seen, the confession spills out with startling ease. Your eyes squint above the curve of your smile. “I like you too,” you coaxed his fist open as you spoke, mapping out the carved furrows, shallows and depths on his palm. “A lot”.

“Oh,” he exhales, slowly entangling your fingers.

You give an emphatic nod.

“How mad is Kacchan?”

“Pretty mad. But when is he not?” you laugh at his grimace. “I’ll be there as a buffer when you wake up. It’s my professional opinion that you need a few more days to recuperate and take me out for crêpes. So will you come home with me?”

There’s a gleam in his eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugs at your chest. His gaze flickers across your face, from your lips to your eyes in askance. You lean in and he kisses you again, sipping gently at your mouth, firm and slightly sticky with congealed blood. Strange. It feels so real. You suppose it is, in all the ways that matter.

“Okay,” he whispers after one last peck to your lips. You get to your feet as he stands and gestures nervously toward the genkan. “I, uh. I don’t really know how to get out of here so… lead the way?”

You laugh and take him by the hand. “Don’t worry. The way back is always a lot faster. It’s a little disorienting—watch your step,” you warn as he follows you through the front door. Rather than the lobby, or a stairwell, both bodies are swallowed up by darkness.

Spat out just as abruptly, your senses return to you piece by piece. Breathing through the vertigo you peel your eyes open to the rapid rise and fall of Izuku’s chest as he reorients himself. A crick in your neck, a knot in your spine. The clock reads 07:12. There are already nurses bustling around the hospital bed, likely alerted by the frantic heart monitor; that which does little to hide the way Izuku’s pulse stutters when you lift your head to get a look at him.

“I’m home,” he says, throat rough from disuse.

Your hands are still entwined, albeit a little sweaty. You smile, “Welcome home”.

#he wanted to stay in that state at least for a little longer bc at least he’d be with you the way he wanted to OHHHHH IM GONNA BE SICKKKKKK #this was so sweet :( <3 #TOOO GOODDDDDDD #deku x reader

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bbyangyl · 3 months

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deku x latina reader on da way 🫡🫡🫡

#it will be based on a Kali uchis song cause I SAID SO

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bbyangyl · 6 months

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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— RANDOM DEKU HC’S

ʚ♡ɞ˚— a/n: these are some thoughts on what I believe izuku is like in the bedroom, what I believe he’s into, and the type of kinks he has.

MDNI || 18+ MATURE CONTENT BELOW

izuku is a freak bro- literally so fucking nasty.

will cum in your mouth and make out with you as he tastes his own cum.

his mouth is almost always attached to your pussy and ass. loves eating you out so much and will cum untouched at times where he’s too turned on from it.

any position where your pussy is on his mouth is his favorite. whether that be face sitting, 69, etc.

If you end up squirting, will literally burry his face in your cunt!

loves fingering your ass and pussy at the same time.

lowkey has a mommy and lactation kink. will often call you mommy while sucking your breast.

pull his hair- oh my god that definitely gets him going. he wants it so bad.

when he’s subbing, and you peg him?? spank him, pull his hair, choke him, he’ll come so hard.

loves when you ride him, the sound of your moans and your breast bouncing in his face will make him cum on the spot.

loves when you rim him from the back while jerking him off.

will say the nastiest shit ever. doesn’t matter how used to it you are, he will always have you blushing 😭

his dirty talk is so filthy, whether he’s submissive or dominate.

the textbook definition of a switch

when he’s submissive, he’s a whining and moaning mess. he makes sure to let you know how good you’re making him feel through his sweet noises.

when he’s dominant, he’ll be a soft dom, but sometimes he’ll be rough with you if he’s extremely pent up or if you ask him to be.

If you want him on his knees begging you to let him cum then that’s exactly what he’ll do. if you want him to fuck you so hard against the mattress that you forget your own name, that’s exactly what he’ll do. however, if he’s feeling one thing more than the other he’ll let you know so you both can compromise.

likes to fuck you in front of a mirror just so he can have a view of his cock going inside you

loves when you leave a ring of your arousal around his cock if he’s fucking you raw

would love to film you both someday, but he’s a little shy about that one. (funny enough)

he thinks mutual masturbation is one of the hottest things ever.

if you both are away from each other and he gets horny, he’ll steal one of you pairs of underwear, sniffing it as he fucks himself against his pillow.

toys are definitely welcomed. you both have a lot!

he loves fucking you and himself with a double ended dild o in both of your asses while he fucks you himself.

quirks are also used in the bedroom. has this fantasy of using black whip to move you up and down on his cock and use your pussy like a fleshlight.

If it’s too much for him he will unintentionally activate a tiny percentage of one for all and fuck you so hard you pass out.

praise kink, degrading kink go brrrr

edging kink, overstimulation kink go brrr

he also wants to give you a oil massage and get you off slowly. wants the same thing done to him.

he wants to be used so much he’s covered in love marks, cum, and back scratches, and wants you to be in the same state.

wants to go on for hours and hours. with him there’s never a dull moment.

and that’s why he’s such a fucking freak bro 😭

but don’t call him that cause he’ll get off to it 💀

however, he can also be extremely sweet and wholesome in the bedroom.

he loves you so much! sex is a very intimate act for him so he wants to show you how much he loves you.

he so soft, and sweet, will be so gentle with you and ask you if everything is okay.

body worship is one of his favorite things in the whole world. giving and receiving! please make him feel good with your words. tell him he’s beautiful while kissing every scar litering his body. he cries with love filled tears.

he also does the same to you. will spend hours kiss every inch of you body, commenting things like “you’re the most beautiful person in the world. I can’t believe you’re mine. I love you so much”

it’s very passionate and overwhelmingly emotional. If you’re not tearing up he is.

the amount of love he has for you cannot simply be described in words. It’s so much more than that

you’re his other half, his soulmate.

and despite his dirty mind, despite all of his sexual desires regarding you, he cannot help his infatuation with you.

so in love with you that sometimes he overwhelms himself with his own emotions, despite the two of you dating.

but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

so that’s why sex is such a roller coaster of emotions, passions, desires, intimacy, and fun!

#deku x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #deku #izuku midoriya x you #deku x you #midoriya x you #izuku x you #mha #bnha #bnha x reader #izuku #midoriya #deku smut #izuku midoriya smut #my hero academia

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bbyangyl · 6 months

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I look so pretty rn I know Deku would fall to his knees

#LMFAOOOO

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bbyangyl · 8 months

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going to the loosemble concert today. maybe strawberry dress girl will be there? 🥹🥹🥹

update: she was, in fact, not there. or maybe I didn’t see her

me thinking the stars would align nd shit —>🤡🤡

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bbyangyl · 8 months

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oh I’m literally going insane did y’all see the new cover for mha team up mission? URARAKA?!?!?

#she’s so pretty #oh I’m gonna sob #I love her so much #ID TREAT U SO RIGHT SHAWTY 😭😭

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bbyangyl · 9 months

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— Realistic Random Headcanons

Ft. Bakugo and Izuku

Synopsis: Random headcanons (general and romantic) for Bakugo and Izuku that I feel like make more sense based on their canon characters

TW: Swearing, topics of mental health (depression and anxiety nothing super dark though)

Note: Credit to @4kh for helping me with these :) btw these are just my personal interpretations of the characters and what I think makes sense following their canons instead of fanon (I also use their fanon personas a lot but again these are what I feel like would actually make more sense!)

— BAKUGO

⇶ Realistically, I feel like Katsuki would be aroace

⇶ At first, it comes off as him simply being too goal driven and motivated to make space in his life for romance

⇶ But truthfully, all his life he simply never related to how his peers would trip over their feet because of a crush

⇶ Sure, he found people pretty or handsome, but he could never find it in him to become even the slightest bit romantically invested

⇶ He tried to, just to feel what others around him felt for even a moment, but It never worked

⇶ At first, he chopped it up to simply not finding the right person. But as he got older and as he went through high school still never having any sort of attraction to anyone, he accepted that romantic attraction was simply something he wasn’t into

⇶ Struggles with depression and anxiety

⇶ It all started when he got to UA. Constantly having your life under threat, feeling like you ended the career of your idol, not feeling good enough, and more, take a toll on you.

⇶ Katsuki’s depression is not at all visible, you have to really know him to tell. He puts on a tough guy act and does what he needs to do, but he feels like a zombie

⇶ He’d much rather rot away in bed most days than even think about training, but he knows it’ll do him no good

⇶ Since he grew up with people always telling him how strong he is, he tries to gaslight himself into thinking he’s not depressed. He knows he is, but as long as he’s going about life like all is good and well, he’s not (to him at least)

⇶ His anxiety stems from getting kidnapped and having his life personally threatened on multiple occasions from such a young age

⇶ He’s always looking over his shoulder, afraid that someone is going to come out and make an attempt on his life

⇶ Katsuki would talk about it to someone, but he’s scared that getting too close to people would also put their lives in danger, and the thought of letting people know that he’s secretly weak physically pains him

⇶ As he gets older, he realizes how fucked up it all was that those things were happening to not just him, but his classmates as well. And yet, they were still expected to go back to class and act as of all was well after almost being killed not even 24 hours prior

⇶ Holds a lot of resentment towards Nezu and other higher ups, he wishes they would have at least put them through therapy after everything.

⇶ However, he doesn’t have any bad blood with Aizawa or All Might or any of his teachers over it because he understands that certain things were out of even their power, and that if they could’ve they would’ve. Some of them gave their lives protecting students, they shouldn’t be at blame

⇶ It’s not secret that Katsuki has an aggressive nature, but he is a very caring and compassionate person, and he tries to make an effort to show it even if it come off a bit harsh

⇶ Calls his friends dumb, extras, and says he hates them, but thankfully, many of them know that he doesn’t really mean it

⇶ And if they don’t know, they will eventually because his actions speak much louder than his words

⇶ Katsuki remembers birthdays, special events, always comes through when invited to things, gives thoughtful gifts, and more

⇶ He takes on all love languages (accept words of affirmation, that’ll take him some time) when giving affection towards others

⇶ The love language that takes all for him is physical touch

⇶ But unfortunately, he’s very adverse to being touched because of trauma, and only makes physical contact with family and close friends

⇶ When he does give an occasional hug, he makes it last and you’ll know it’s special (he gives really good hugs too)

⇶ It seems far fetched, but Katsuki actually doesn’t like to yell

⇶ Yes, he yells a lot, a majority of the time in fact

⇶ But it’s always over really dumb or unnecessary things, and that’s the entire point.

⇶ When Katsuki is serious about something, or genuinely angry, he hardly even raises his voice

⇶ He’s smarter than that, and knows it’ll only aggravate the situation

⇶ Very self aware, and because of that, he knows he can have a temper! Always takes a moment to himself when something upsets him, and then comes back later to talk about it properly so he can avoid blowing up at the other person

⇶ This is especially the case if it’s someone close to him, Katsuki would hate to damage a good relationship over something that can be resolved

⇶ If the other person keeps pressuring him as he’s trying to take time for himself, then yes, he will raise his voice. But it’s more firm than anything, and he does it to get them to give him space

⇶ If they keep pushing, or he just very in the heat of the moment, he will start yelling

⇶ Katsuki doesn’t like to go to bed angry either

⇶ Always make sure that his issue with someone else is resolved as quickly as possible, because if it’s not, it most likely never will be

⇶ If he’s in the wrong, he’ll acknowledges it and apologizes… in his own way

⇶ Normally, his apologies consist of him being overly attentive towards the person over the next few days until he feels like they aren’t upset with him anymore and he no longer feels guilty

⇶ On the surface level, Katsuki is your average arrogant, ambitious, hot head, but there’s a lot more to his simple facade

— MIDORIYA

⇶ Such a lover boy and hopeless romantic when it comes to relationships

⇶ Everyone knows he gets crushes easily, but a lot of them are just for the sake of slicing up his life, he doesn’t actually want a relationship with that person

⇶ Admires a lot of people from afar because of this, and he’ll gush over people he’s never even spoken a word to

⇶ It sounds corny, but he really doesn’t care about anything physically, he looks for personality

⇶ Sees no point in being attracted to someone just because they have a pretty face if their personality is awful

⇶ Likes people who kind of act like him, sweet, caring, motivated, a bit outgoing. and has similar interests

⇶ If you don’t act like him, he gravitates towards people who may contrast his personality too

⇶ You still have to be nice or at least have basic decency, but if you’re more reserved, and prefer to keep to yourself instead of being around people, he‘lil still like you

⇶ When Izuku is in a relationship, he’s a very good boyfriend

⇶ He’s attentive, always knowing what you need and what you like. He doesn’t forget dates, birthdays, or other important things

⇶ But he’ll need that energy in return or else he’ll lose interest in the relationship

⇶ Izuku has struggled with both depression and anxiety his entire life

⇶ He was always an anxious kid, and at first, Inko chopped it up to him just being a bit shy or having mood swings

⇶ But eventually, he was diagnosed with anxiety at a very very young age

⇶ It’s manageable, most days, thankfully, because his determination to do better for himself outweighs it

⇶ But his bad days are bad, to the point where they’re so debilitating that he can’t do anything but lay in bed all day in an attempt to be calm and not trigger an anxiety attack

⇶ Took medication for it at some point, but got really bad side effects from it and now chooses to just deal with it on his own

⇶ Izuku was diagnosed with depression a few years after he was diagnosed with anxiety

⇶ It developed shortly after his quirk didn’t develop, and he was being relentlessly bullied at school for being quirkless, and then coming home to see hero’s like All Might do great things while he was literally and figuratively powerless

⇶ His depression only got worse as he grew up and was still getting bullied for being quirkless

⇶ Somehow, Izuku doesn’t resent Bakugo or any of his bullies, and really doesn’t even think of them much as he gets older

⇶ For Bakugo, he doesn’t necessarily forgive him, but he learns to put it in the past for as long as Bakugo can acknowledge that what he did was wrong and can’t be taken back

⇶ As for his other bullies, he believes they’ll get whatever they deserve. He thinks they’re assholes, sure, but they were dumb kids at the time so he puts that behind him too

⇶ During the summer he spent training with All Might to inherit One For All, his mental health got better than he ever thought it would

⇶ Inko had no clue what was happening that entire time, but she could see a different light in her sons eyes and seeing him happy made her cry every night for the entire summer

⇶ Unfortunately, his mental health once again tanked when he was at UA due to all the villain attacks and the way his life was constantly being threatened more than anyone else’s

⇶ He was so exhausted all the time, and would have one or more anxiety attacks on a daily basis

⇶ Izuku is fairly emotional as is, even around others, but he keeps his deeper issues private and takes a moment to himself when even feels like he’s imploding

⇶ Wants to talk about it with someone, he really does, but he doesn’t even know where he’d begin and he doesn’t want to dump all that on anyone

⇶ Inko did put him through therapy as a kid, but he was in and out of it for various reasons, but the main one was money

⇶ Therapy is expensive, and Inko is a single mother. She put him through therapy when she could but there were times were she just couldn’t make it happen as badly as she wanted to get her son help

⇶ Once he got to UA and was very obviously doing much worse, she offered to start paying for therapy again and he completely refused

⇶ He’s always felt bad that she had to spend so much money trying to figure things out with him. Why he had no quirk, his depression, his anxiety, and therapy, he didn’t want her doing all that for him even though she felt obliged has his mother

⇶ At that point, Izuku felt like the responsibility landed on the school to make sure their students were being properly taken care of, mentally and physically, with everything they were going through during their time there

⇶ Doesn’t resent anyone for not doing anything, but he definitely wishes it was handled much better for the sake of everyone

⇶ But if you’re his s/o he will lean on you for support. He won’t tell you everything, because he doesn’t want to put all of that weight on you, but he will vent a little and cry to you

⇶ You can use him as a shoulder to lean on as well of course, and don’t think that you can’t come to him just because he’s dealing with his own things. If anything, it makes him feel better that you trust him enough to support you when you’re vulnerable

⇶ Izuku is a giver.

⇶ He gives, gives, gives, and gives without thinking about himself

⇶ Loves to give his friends little gifts, always coming back from the store with their favorite snack because he saw it on the shelf or a trinket that reminded him of them

⇶ Because he pays so much attention to detail, his gifts are always good

⇶ Insanely good at birthday gifts, if you ever don’t know what to get someone he’s the one you need to call

⇶ He will never get you a gift you don’t like, and if he somehow does, he’ll immediately replace it with w something you do like

⇶ Won’t even get the metal of your jewelry wrong, who do you think he is?

⇶ If you’re his s/o, you’ll be spoiled to death

⇶ He always pays for everything and never even lets you worry about how much it is

⇶ If you ever find out the price of something he bought you, and proceed to ask why he spent so much money on you, he’ll get upset and ask why you don’t want him spending money on you especially if it’s by choice

⇶ Gift giving and acts of service are his main love languages, so he gets very offended if you question him. It’s like asking if he even loves you, and he loves you to death.

⇶ On the other hand, Izuku gets very uncomfortable when people spend any amount of money on him or do things for him

⇶ Doesn’t even like to get birthday gifts or have people throw him parties, because he knows that means people will be spending money on him

⇶ It comes from growing up with a single mother who made just enough for them to live a decent life, he’ll always appreciate the gesture, but it will never not make him uncomfortable.

⇶ This is especially the case if you’re dating him. His birthday and holidays are the only time you’re allowed to spend your money on him, and even then you can’t spend an excessive amount

⇶ Izuku WILL get angry if you do, he won’t yell at you or anything, but he’ll huff about how you shouldn’t waste your money on him for the rest of the day

⇶ Izuku is a sweet boy, really. But as bubbly as he is even he needs someone to depend on, and in turn he’ll give you his all

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @miirene @planetlunaa @romiantic @szaplsdropthealbum @dreampurpledreams @goldenglow149 @gender-queery @roaringlion @chocolateochaco @tatiquichi @kxtsxkii

Send in a ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated! Follow for more!

#these headcanons are amazing!!#bakugo being aroace makes so much sense to me!!!#deku x reader #deku #bakugo

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bbyangyl · 9 months

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It’s been a year since bakugo fucking died bring this mf BACKKK

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bbyangyl · 9 months

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I thank hori everyday for creating deku- like his mind???!!!!! amazing

#literally if deku didn’t exist idk wtf I’d be doing rn #we seven years deep down the rabbit hole 💀#he means…so much to me #deku

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bbyangyl · 9 months

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MDNI || 18+ MATURE CONTENT BELOW

LOSER BOY! DEKU who cums in his pants at just the thought of you. how sweet and kind you are to him. how pretty you are. how you tease him with your gorgeous eyes and heart melting smile because you know! you must know the affect you have on him!

he isn’t popular by any means. a nerd who people take advantage of when it comes to assignments. a stark contrast from you. someone who’s loved and known by everyone.

so, it absolutely blows his mind when you try to start a conversation with him. not for homework answers, or to pick on him, but because you wanted to get to know him since you both share multiple classes together and you wanted to become friends.

at first he’s weary of you. how could someone as popular and beautiful as you want anything to do with a loser like him? someone who people treat as a punching bag or a machine that will print out answers. but after a while, he understands why.

it’s because you’re that genuine of a person.

you talk to him, ask about his interests, share stories, stand up for him when someone tries to pick on him, and you always ask and care about his well-being.

you’re genuine with your words & kindness, so it wasn’t out of left field when he starts to develop romantic feelings for you. once he comes to the realization of his feelings, it opens up a whole new world for him.

he remembers the first time he felt it. you wanted to sit with him at lunch, despite his constant warning that your reputation might be damaged being near him. you simply brushed it off with a smile.

when you placed your lunch next to him, he hates himself for immediately noticing how small your skirt was; just barely covering your ass; showing your thighs in all its glory. and when you moved your legs to sit down, Izuku could’ve sworn he caught a glimpse of your panties.

he remembers the way he internally panicked as blush formed all over his face and neck.

and he tried to listen. he tried so hard to listen to what you were saying to him. something about plans for summer break. but he was trying his absolute best to not get a hard on in front of you.

unfortunately, the odds were against him, and he found himself unconsciously taking glances at your chest and pretty lips. And then, sinful thoughts drifted to you bent over. your breast pressed against the table as he pushed you skirt up and ate your pretty little pussy from the back. he would pocket your panties, hearing your cute moans, whining for him to continue. he would-

“-so I think that’s what I’m gonna do for the first two weeks. but I’d be really happy if we can plan to hangou-…are you okay?”

he remembers eventually shaking his head to snaps out of it. but before he could respond, he noticed how tight his pants had become. through a flushed and panicked state, he immediately placed his bag on top of his lap, sputtering absolute nonsense as he tried his hardest to change the topic of conversation.

he didn’t know why he was having such thoughts about you. he knew it was wrong, sinful, but…

eventually he was saved by the bell that day, and you excused yourself to your class quickly since you had a final presentation due.

after that incident, his mind was running laps at the thought of you.

you would greet him with kind smiles and warm hugs through your summer break meet ups. he notices how soft you feel, how sweet the air becomes of vanilla and strawberry when you’re around. and how much worse the images in his head become.

how would your lips feel against his? would you like your breast sucked on? played with as he pounded you from the back? he just knew you’d feel so good inside, so warm and wet as your pussy would suck him in for more. he could only imagine how good your pussy tasted too. all soft and gooey from the slick. your moans begging him to keep going.

or maybe you’d take charge? maybe you’d call him a good boy for being obedient. ride him as he squirms beneath you. would you clean him up with your mouth afterwards? sucking on his tip for every drop of his cum. maybe you’d even peg him!

the countless thoughts and scenarios drove him up the wall. just your presence was enough to make him so pathetically hard.

he looks up your pictures on instragram, none of which are seductive in nature. but just normal photos of you, all sweet and smiley. and he can already feel how hard his cock becomes as it leaks pre-cum, aching to be touched.

he imagines his own hands being yours. imagining how soft they would be as he stares at your pictures.

then, he’d go to his gallery, looking at the photos you would take together during your hangouts. just seeing how happy you are in the picture with him next to you makes him cum so hard he feels his vision blur.

you’re so pretty, so sweet, so wonderful.

you mean everything to him.

and although he knows you’re way out of his league, and how lucky he was to even be friends with you. he can’t help but yearn for something more.

he knew he would never tell you that, though. if it ever got around that he liked you, he knew his classmates would make fun of him; laugh at the fact that he would even think of a possibility that you and him could be together. after all, he’s just a loser who fell in love with you, someone who’s so beautiful and kind, but leagues above him.

so yeah, he knew he’d never tell you. but being someone you considered a friend was enough, despite his dirty, desperate desires.

#izuku midoriya #deku #bnha #mha #deku x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #izuku #Midoriya #my hero academia #midoriya x you #deku x you #izuku x you #deku drabble #deku smut #izuku midoriya smut #my hero acedamia

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bbyangyl · 1 year

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hey I just wanted to ask if you’ll be continuing the stage is yours fanfic? I think the concept is really interesting and I’d really love to read more of it if you’re still on that

hellooo :) yes! I’m definitely still continuing this fic! I actually have the majority except the final chapter written. I’m so sorry for the long wait ughhh 😭😭

When I initially wrote the majority of the fic I was rushing it (and because I was listening to the mario kart soundtrack I was going fast as fuck 😭) so it’s just me having a little insecurity with the writing along with me STILL having to edit this fic that’s preventing the world from seeing it just yet.

I want it to be an enjoyable read, so please wait a little longer ❤️ I promise I didn’t abandon the fic or any of my other works. I’m going to continue writing. I’m just a bozo 😭😭

#asks ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

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bbyangyl · 1 year

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