#can you tell I’m especially fond of rude izuku? because I am | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-daylight-here · 5 years

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new yandere blog? nice! i read your platonic dadmic one and that was so good! would you consider doing an aizawa one where an orphan kid managed to get into UA and he surprises her later with adoption papers?

||you’ve got an ‘older sibling’ in this who will act like your boyfriend for either shits and giggles or generally to keep stalkers away from you. Basically, he can pass on his emotions by being within a certain distance, and physically touching him can give you the full force of what he’s feeling. he’s bakugo sized and fairly strong, so picking up people is not an issue. holding in his emotions makes him cry a lot from the mental and physical stress.

Shouta had been watching that student since the entrance exam. She was extraordinarily fast, and that wasn’t the only thing she could do with her quirk. It was interesting, to say the least. Much like Midoriya Izuku, her quirk could destroy her body if used recklessly. She had to wear body braces on almost all her joints during exercises like hero training. Still, it was enthralling to watch her grow and improve.

And finding out about her status as an orphan saddened him for some reason.

++++++++++++++

“Sora!” you yelled, looking for the person you recognized as your family. Your crybaby ‘sibling’ swung his head in your direction and ran towards you, scooping you up into his arms with cheerful laughter. You started laughing and hugging him too. You knew it was merely an effect of his quirk. He held a lot of his quirk in, but it was hard to contain when he was physically touching someone, as well as just happy.

A lot of the customers outside the bakery smiled and cooed gently, mumbling something about ‘what a cute couple’ or something like that. After years of correcting people, the both of you just gave up. This was also probably an effect of his quirk. Containing it was a hell of a job, but at least the negative ones weren’t as difficult. You think the last time you actually felt he was stressed was in middle school when he had to find a job in order to help your caretakers keep the half-decent roof over your heads and good clothing on your backs without sacrificing money for food.

“Should we feed more into the illusion or should I put you down?” he asked softly. You giggled and ran your hands through his silky, midnight colored hair. “Put me down, I’ve got good news,” you laughed. He did and took a couple steps back to spare you from the full, smothering force of his quirk. You practically jumped up and down, still feeling the pure elation from earlier, atop the excitement of the news. “I’ve got my provisional license!” you told him, pulling it out of your wallet. Sora gaped.

“(Y/n), that’s awesome!”

“I know! How should we celebrate?”

“Me getting you your own snake?”

“Sora, NO! Why can’t you have normal pets?”

“Hahaha! Kidding. How about I bake some stuff and your entire class comes to celebrate for even taking the exam?”

“You’re not making it alone. How about I bring Sato-san and Bakugo-san by, and we can all bake stuff for it.”

“Or I can come there with ingredients and--”

“Alright, alright. I’ll grab you in a couple hours,” you laughed, turning around and bumping into someone. “Sorry,” you apologized with a squeak. You looked up to see your teacher, who was glaring at your sibling. All of the glowy, happy warmth was sucked from the air, and you saw Sora’s genuinely jovial expression melt into the professional ‘I am a good employee and will deal with you with a smile,’ face. “Hello sir, how may I help you today?” he asked. Anyone else would likely have been fooled by this, but growing up around him gave you an edge to tell you when he was hiding his feelings. Not to mention, everything usually seemed quite bright and colorful when he was cheerful. Now, as he went into professional mode, things seemed duller and grayer.

“I was told you typically handled adoption interviews, considering you'll be taking over when your aunt and uncle retire,” your teacher answered. Sora hummed lightly at that. “I'll talk to you later on it. I'm swinging by your class’ dorm to help celebrate the exam,” your blue-haired sibling answered, turning curtly on his heels and returning to his job. Sora told you when you were moving into the dorms that Aizawa's general vibe felt off to him.

You gave a short greeting to your teacher and began walking back to the dorm, your teacher in tow.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Shouta understood the blue-haired boy’s concerns and dislike concerning him. After all, who would trust a full grown man who seemed to lurk in the presence of a fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl? Not to mention an observant, caring brother-figure. Ito Sora seemed like a cheerful, happy-go-lucky idiot with the potential to be an idol or something like that. He was scared of dogs and cared about the other orphans under his and his guardians’ watch. He seemed like he wouldn’t be of much interest, but he paid attention to hero, villain and gang activity.

The boy’s skills and quirk made him a prime hero candidate if he’d been interested.

The only reasons Sora was of any concern was his skills and quirk, as well as the fondness of the speedster student. The two seemed particularly close because of their ages, as well as the girl having been among the earliest to come into the care of Ito Sayaka and her husband.

As he entered the courtyard that night, during the celebration, he saw the blue haired male sitting on the steps, whittling away at a wooden arrow.

The teacher sat next to him.

“You’ve been following (Y/n) since shortly after the entrance exam, and particularly closely after the USJ incident. I know about the USJ incident because she told me. Then, after the training camp and Kamino Ward mishaps, UA started using a dorm system. So, sorry, I don’t necessarily think the best of you,” the freckled boy said flatly, not looking up. Shouta laughed bitterly. If he’d been in the same situation, he would have definitely been more protective over the student.

“I understand that. I don’t understand why you won’t approve the adoption papers.”

“Call it selfish, intuition, whatever. But (Y/n) has always been able to handle herself. Sure, she thought it was cool that I can shoot arrows precisely or run through uneven terrain like a monkey, but I was never really much more than emotional support. And I honestly kind of think you might end up coddling her or pushing her too hard if I let this go through.”

“Or is it you’re in love with her?” Shouta teased. He wasn’t much one for jokes, but it could’ve been a possibility.

“Maybe. Don’t know. But, as long as she’s happy, I’m okay with it.”

He was surprised to see a sloppy signature of approval at the bottom of the paper as the boy held it out. “Take it before I use it as target practice,” Ito muttered. Shouta quirked a brow but took the paper. He hoped (Y/n) would like this surprise.

++++++++++++++++++

You stole the last slice of cheesecake right from under Todoroki’s nose, going to sneak off before you felt ice around your ankle. Shit. You turned around with a nervous laugh and grinned shakily. “Heyyyy, Todo-chan,” you greeted. He looked done with your crap and went to take the cheesecake as you held it away, whining. “My brother maaaade thiiiiiiiiiiis,” you whimpered. “You didn’t have to steal it, (L/n).”

“I’M NOT SHARING. ESPECIALLY SINCE IT’S CHEESECAKE.”

“You’ve had three slices.”

“YOU DIDN’T EVEN PASS! And you’re rude too!”

“Rude?”

“You’re supposed to refer to people with honorifics and your dad emotionally fucking stunted you, so you’re socially inept and have no filter.”

The Pepsi-can boy thought about it long enough for you to phase through the ice and run to your room, protecting the pastry best as you could.

Ten minutes later, Aizawa knocked on your door and entered, holding a packet of papers out to you. You recognized the messy signature and your name, and your eyes widened. Sora approved Aizawa adopting you? That was unexpected. You two had been going back and forth on it for a week or so now, so you smiled widely.

#yandere blog #yandere imagines #platonic yandere #teacher yandere #yandere bnha #yandere aizawa shouta #yandere aizawa #yandere eraserhead #yandere x you #yandere x reader

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plusultrabitchez · 5 years

Text

Rooms on Fire Chapter 1: Old Friends

Hey guys, I just got this story in my head for a Shinsou x Reader so I’m going to go with it. I haven’t written fanfic in a while so please be gentle with me. I have this story over on Wattpad, but I wanted to post it here too. I welcome any feedback and suggestions and I hope you like it :)

I may change the title of this story since I’m not sold on the one I picked but I haven’t figured out a new one. If you have an idea please send them in!

(This takes place after UA, and I’m not current on the manga so I apologize for any inaccuracies)

"Hey, sorry I'm running late. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Shinsou hurried down the street to the restaurant where he was meeting his good friends Izuku Midoriya and Ochaco Uraraka. He had just had a long day at the agency and was sore and tired, but wouldn't dare think of canceling.

"No worries! We just got a table! See you soon!" Midoriya said cheerfully.

"Will do." Shinsou hung up and put his phone back into his pocket. He had grown pretty fond of these monthly dinners. Shinsou and Midoriya used to work at the same agency just out of school and became very good friends during that time. After about a year Shinsou transferred to a different agency, but still had these monthly dinners with Midoriya and his longtime girlfriend Uraraka in order to keep up with one another.

As Shinsou approached the restaurant he spotted the pair through the window and smiled. Midoriya and Uraraka were in their own little world.

"I wonder when he's actually going to propose."

He finally reached the table and took off his jacket before sitting down.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late. Some asshole villain got cocky and decided to try to run."

"Did you take him down?" Uraraka asked while punching the air.

"Damn right I did." Shinsou chuckled while holding up his fists to show off his battered knuckles.

"Oh no, that looks pretty bad." Midoriya said full of concern.

Shinsou waved his hand dismissively and smirked "You should see the other guy. This is nothing. Let get some drinks."

About an hour later the three friends were a few drinks in, laughing and eating when Uraraka's phone went off. Shinsou and Midoriya were in the middle of discussing different take down techniques so Uraraka decided it wouldn't be rude to check her messages.

(Y/N): Hey girl! Are you still available to pick me up from the airport tomorrow? I can't wait to see you!!! :D

Uraraka: Yes I am! I can't wait to see you too! Can I call you later to go over details? I would call now but I'm at dinner.

(Y/N): Got a hot date with your man? Tell me you wore that dress I made you buy when you were in town. You'll stop traffic in that thang ;)

Shinsou noticed Uraraka blushing and giggling at her phone.

"What's so funny?" He asked taking a gulp of his beer.

"Oh nothing. (Y/N) is just teasing me."

Shinsou choked on his beer as soon as your name was said. "I didn't know you and (Y/N) were still in touch." He said after composing himself.

"Well we weren't for a while since she moved so far away for that job, but I was in the area visiting some family about a year ago and we happened to run into each other." Uraraka explained while she smiled, obviously fond of the memory. "We get together every time I visit family and text all the time so we've gotten really close over the past year."

Shinsou smiled. It had been a few years since he had talked to (Y/N). You were good friends when you went to UA. He hadn't thought about you in a while which immediately seemed strange to him since there was a time where you were all he could think about.

"How is she doing?" He asked trying to be casual.

"Oh, I thought you guys still talked." Midoriya said before taking a bite of his food.

"Yeah, you guys were pretty good friends in school right?" Uraraka asked surprised.

Shinsou sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah we were, but once she moved we both got busy, got new numbers and all that, and ended up losing touch."

Uraraka and Midoriya gave Shinsou a sympathetic look and he rolled his eyes.

"Never mind all that. How's she doing?"

"Well you know with that awesome quirk of hers she's been really busy with hero work, but she's been great. I can't wait to pick her up at the airport tomorrow." Uraraka beamed

This is when Shinsou's stomach started doing backflips and his heart started racing.

"She's coming back? How long is she visiting?"

Midoriya and Uraraka went wide eyed, looked at each other then back at Shinsou. "Oh, well..." Midoriya trailed off

"Gonna finish that sentence?" Shinsou asked getting impatient.

"(Y/N) got a job at Deku's agency and is moving back!" Uraraka exclaimed barely able to contain her excitement.

Shinsou's heart beat faster. He worried it would burst out of his chest as he smiled from ear to ear. He didn't bother trying to hide his emotions from his friends.

"Wow, that's...good for her. It'll be nice to see her again."

"Right?! She's so much fun! We're having a welcome back party tomorrow night when we all go to Jiro's show. You have to come!" Uraraka was bouncing in her seat now.

"Are you sure?" Shinsou asked starting to worry if he would be the only one excited to reconnect.

"Of course! Last time I visited her she mentioned how she missed you!" Uraraka said pumping her fist in the air.

Shinsou couldn't stop a huge smile forming and butterflies in his stomach.

"Really? Okay yeah. I'll be there."

Your POV

"God I wish my quirk was speed packing." You groan as you tape up another box. Being one of the top heroes city proved to be quite a time suck. You decided to make your last day a week before your big move so you would actually be able to pack. All that was left is your sound system and some of your records. You saved that for last because you had to have jams while you packed or else you would die of boredom. Stevie Knicks was blasting and you couldn't help be sing and dance along. Your jamming was interrupted by your text notification. You walked over to the kitchen island to check your phone and take another sip of your beer.

Uraraka: Hey! Guess what?! Deku and I are at dinner with Shinsou and he's coming to your welcome back party! Isn't that exciting?"

You heart leaped and butterflies filled your stomach as you smiled. It had been years since you talked to Shinsou and you missed him terribly. You hated that you guys lost touch especially since you were such good friends in school. You hugged your phone and hopped up and down with excitement. Your big black Pitbull came up and got excited and started jumping with you.

"I'm going to see Shinsou again Hades! Isn't that exciting?"

Hades tail was wagging up a storm as he celebrated with you while you texted back.

(Y/N): Really? That's so great! I can't wait to see him!

Uraraka: We're all so excited to see you! I'll call you in about an hour to go over details :)

You were already excited about the move, but now you could barely contain yourself.

#bnha #bnha oc #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #fanfic #fluff #midoriya izuku #bnha izuku #uraraka ochako #bnha ochako #rooms on fire #chapter 1

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bkdksecretsanta · 5 years

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untitled

Gift fic for Drea aka bkdk4life on twitter from @3rdgymbros.

A message from the Santa:

Hi, lovely! I'm your Secret Santa this year, and I really hope you like this story! Happy holidays and I hope you have a great year ahead!

He opens his eyes to behold white everywhere. Spots of colour float above him; Izuku blinks, and the dots unify into one blob, which materialises into Bakugou’s face, smudged with dirt and littered with a mass of cuts. Itsuka lingers by the door; she waves at Izuku and limps out to give them their privacy before Bakugou can snarl at her.

“Fucking Deku,” Katsuki mutters, but there’s no real venom in his tone, and the frown on his face does little to mask the worry in his eyes. “What the hell were you thinking, going in without backup?”

He manages a weak smile, his voice a hoarse whisper, “Knew you’d show eventually.”

“And if we hadn’t?” Bakugou counters harshly. “You could have died. Fuckin hypocrite. Telling all of us not to go in alone, but it’s fine if you go and do it, huh?”

Izuku sighs, “Don’t worry about it. I did what I had to do. There were civilians in there, Kacchan, I couldn’t just leave them.”

“You should have waited.”

The doctor bustles in then, slender in a white lab coat. “I’m sorry,” She says to Bakugou, soft and firm as she injects something into the IV tubing, “But the patient needs his rest. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“We gotta go, Bakugou,” Itsuka says, leaning heavily on her right leg as she stumbles into the room before Bakugou can blow up. “We still have to debrief the interns and give the police our statements.”

“Fuck you, I’m not going anywhere!”

“Yes, you are,” Nonplussed, Izuku interjects. His vision blurs again, and his eyelids threaten to fall of their own accord. There must have been a sedative amongst the medicine cocktail in his IV. “This can wait. Go get fixed up, I’ll be here.”

“See?” He hears Itsuka say. “Besides, our five minutes with him are up. Let’s go.”

Before Izuku can respond, everything dissolves again.

XXX

Izuku wakes to a dark world, energised. If every object weren’t in such sharp focus, and if his bladder wasn’t so uncomfortably stretched, he’d believe this was a dream.

After using the adjoining toilet, Izuku wheels himself back into the room, careful not to wake Kacchan, who’s curled up on the couch in the room, asleep and breathing deeply. Despite their earlier disagreement, he does feel warmed at having Bakugou in the same room with him – it’s a peace offering of sorts, and as close to an apology as he’ll get.

Something tugs on his fingers, gentle but persistent, and Izuku just about jumps out of his skin.

“Mama?”

Big, bright eyes, much wordier than they should be, stare at Izuku in the dim light, and this time, he does yelp.

And Bakugou chooses the worst time to wake up from his slumber, leaping up and screaming profanities that do nothing towards diffusing the situation. There’s a quiet whimper, a muffled sniff, and the shuffling of feet.

Fumbling for the light switch with clumsy, harried fingers, Izuku finally manages to grab the remote and hit the lights. Only then does Bakugou calm down. Izuku turns around. A little boy steps back, tucking his hands under his chin. Moments later, he sneezes into them, he could be anybody’s child, fresh from playing in dirt – muck masks the original colour of his skin and the precise proportions of his features, sans a pair of wide set eyes the precise hue and colour of fine cut emeralds.

“It’s just a f – A kid, Deku,” Bakugou gripes, already giving the boy a dismissive once over. He isn’t cursing as much as usual, Izuku notes, probably because there’s a kid in the room with them. Even angry and tired, he still has some sensibilities about him. “Shoo,” Bakugou says half-heartedly, making a gesture to the door and hoping that the kid will get the message and scram.

All he gets is a blink.

Izuku muffles a laugh.

“What’s your name?” Izuku asks gently, squatting to get a better look at the boy. His face is unusually solemn, but his movements are quick, bright and normal, like the typical kids he sees playing in the streets. “Where’s your Mom? And how did you end up here?”

A chubby index finger reaches out, traces the freckles dotting Izuku’s cheeks. “Mama!” He says again, in a high, clear voice.

“Pfft, the twerp thinks you’re a girl, Deku –”

“Kacchan, you’re laughing too much!” Izuku protests half-heartedly. “No, no, I’m Izuku. And I am most definitely not a girl.” He points a finger in Katsuki’s direction. “That’s Kacchan. What’s your name?”

The little boy blinks again, and shoves his fingers into his mouth, more concerned with sucking on the little digits than he is at replying to Izuku’s question. Or maybe it’s because the only word in his repertoire is Mama, Izuku doesn’t really know.

“That’s gross, cut it out, twerp!” Katsuki snaps, somehow managing to sound appalled and disgusted all at once when the little boy yanks his fingers out of his mouth and starts waving them around, sticky and wet, and a few centimetres away from Izuku’s face.

Still, Bakugou yanks out a couple of tissues from the box on Izuku’s bedside table, and meticulously starts cleaning those grubby little fingers. Bakugou’s surprisingly gentle with the little boy, who watches Bakugou’s every movement with those unnerving eyes, his shell-pink lips open in a big “O”. There’s a soft sound of protest from their owner, and in return, Bakugou snaps out a petulant, “Quit squirming, brat! I’m doing this for you, you’d better be grateful!”

Izuku points out, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile, “Nobody asked you to, Kacchan.”

“Can it, Deku.”

When the alarm goes off in the room, the telltale click clack of heels on tiles comes closer and closer, until Izuku catches sight of his pink-haired nurse dashing into the room, her face awash with relief when she catches sight of the little boy with them.

“Katsuro, there you are!” The nurse admonishes the little boy, now known as Katsuro, hands on her hips. “Really! We’ve been looking all over for you! What do you have to say for yourself, running off like that?”

“Mmmmamamama . . .”

The nurse directs a flurry of apologies at both Bakugou and Izuku (he smiles and waves goodbye to little Katsuro), and they both walk out of the room, Katsuro’s small and grubby fingers clutched tightly in the nurse’s own gloved fingers.

Izuku can still feel a pair of eyes staring at him.

XXX

Bakugou’s pushing Izuku’s wheelchair into the rooftop garden that’s devoid of patients, and Izuku inhales the fresh air and perfumes of plants, whose outlines he can barely see. It’s a dark, balmy night, and everything might as well be made of shadows. They walk down the rows of apple trees, each hung with a ripening fruit, Izuku chattering away about everything and nothing, when they hear the quiet, familiar voice garble, “Mamama”, and a surprisingly strong hand grabs onto the hem of Izuku’s hospital gown.

Bakugou scowls down at Katsuro, who seems perfectly unperturbed, and only gurgles at the older man. “How did you find us again, twerp? Aren’t babies supposed to be in bed by now?”

“Mamama,” Katsuro gabbles, holding up his outstretched hands. “Mama?”

“Kacchan, don’t be rude!” Izuku chides, smiling down at the little boy – Katsuro, he reminds himself – and cheerfully obliges by picking Katsuro up and placing him on his lap.

Katsuro’s been washed and cleaned; he’s a bright smear of warm limbs and ash blond hair, bright spring-coloured eyes, with freckles like constellations dotting his thin cheeks. He has a sweet smell of his own, of baby powder and child sweat. Katsuro’s fussy tonight, shifting about in Izuku’s lap, his eyes flicking up to Izuku’s face, and then over to Bakugou’s, who snarls, “What the he – ck are you looking at, kid?!” whenever their eyes meet.

Bakugou’s being rather nice, by his standards.

Izuku remembers, with fondness - and a touch of exasperation - Bakugou’s knack of making children cry, made especially apparent during his younger years.

“Katsuro,” Izuku says into Katsuro’s curls, feeling fluffy hair tickle his cheek, “Be good, okay?”

Either Katsuro’s intelligent for his age, or maybe it’s something in Izuku’s voice, but whatever the case, the little boy settles down, shifting so that his face is buried in the crook of Izuku’s neck. Izuku’s body adjusts, by itself, to gently cradle the child in his arms. He’s asleep within minutes, breathing deeply, and although Izuku has to grimace at the drool staining his shirt, he makes no move to wake Katsuro up.

“Damn brat,” Bakugou says, resuming his pushing once more – but his voice can almost pass for being gentle, turned down to about a tenth of its usual intensity, “Told you it was past your bedtime.”

XXX

His name is Katsuro.

He’d been abandoned at the hospital, a note left in his pocket. One of those safe havens so young girls would stop flushing their babies down the toilet or throwing them away in Dumpsters behind a MacDonald’s. The law didn’t say how old, or how young, a child had to be to receive haven.

Even undernourished, most three-year-olds aren’t babies by any standards.

“But we had to take this little guy in, you know?” The nurse – she’d brightly introduced herself as Momoi to both Izuku and Bakugou – says quietly, now more dejected than she’d originally been. She’d been sprinting down the hallways, frantic and panicky, but had stopped with a cry of relief when she noticed Katsuro in Izuku’s arms. “He didn’t have any personal belongings with him, just the clothes on his back, and we couldn’t just turn him out onto the streets. The social worker’s coming in on the weekend to bring him to an orphanage, after the Christmas Holidays.”

“I see,” Izuku replies just as quietly, his arms unconsciously tightening around the still-sleeping Katsuro.

Bakugou clicks his tongue, but there’s a hint of sadness behind the steel. He runs a finger down Katsuro’s cheek, soft and smooth.

XXX

“Red Riot, Icy Hot Make Special Appearance at UA Sports Festival.”

Izuku hears the familiar garbled sounds, a hodgepodge mix of simple consonants and vowels. He blinks open bleary eyes to find Bakugou reading the morning papers in a low undertone, with Katsuro settled comfortably in his lap. Katsuro’s scrawny arms hold clutch on tightly to an All-Might action figure, strangely reminiscent of the one that Izuku had carried around with him all those years ago. His is faded now, worn beyond measure surely, but the memory is still vivid and real in his mind.

“Mamma?”

“No, that’s Half and Half.”

“Mmamam.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’ve got a meeting with him on Friday.”

“Mamama.”

“Fine, Red Riot’s not so bad, but I’m not gonna tell him that to his face.”

Izuku smothers a smile, huddles deeper into the warm cocoon of his blankets. A part of him finds this surprisingly domestic, a strange longing permeating the deepest recesses of his body to catch and hold on to this feeling of warmth and happiness.

X X X

When Bakugou comes to pick Izuku up on the day of his discharge from the hospital, Izuku is staring down at the sleeping child, wanting to say goodbye, but at the same time, unable to bring himself to. The words clog up his throat, making speaking near impossible.

The white curtains have been drawn, sunlight filtering through and creating golden, dappled patterns on the floor. In his crib, Katsuro lies, sound asleep, breathing deeply. His mouth is open and freckles scatter his nose and cheeks.

Izuku reaches down into the crib, a calloused finger tracing Katsuro’s cheek, as soft as a baby’s should be. A second finger joins his, their owner’s hardened red eyes softening, gentling into an expression of unspoken tenderness.

Even in sleep, a tiny starfish hand reaches out and clings onto Izuku’s for dear life, holding on like a lifeline, as if trying to reassure himself that he hasn’t been abandoned again.

His name is Katsuro. He’s three. Abandoned, unwanted, cast aside at a hospital, his fate sealed as another of Japan’s nameless orphans.

Izuku raises his eyes to meet Katsuki’s.

A whole conversation passes between them in that moment.

It’ll be hard.

I know.

What if we can’t do it?

We will. We’ll do it together.

X X X

“I still don’t see why I have to wear this.”

“Kacchan, it’s a family tradition!”

“Bullshit! You made that tradition up yesterday!”

“Language, Kacchan! We have a baby here now!”

Bakugou tugs grumpily at the collar of his maroon sweater, emblazoned and festooned with a cheerful green pattern of christmas trees. But at the mention of their son, Bakugou looks over at Katsuro, illuminated by the bright lights of their artificial Christmas tree. His chubby fingers catching and holding onto a sparkly ornament.

“We’re going to put that on the tree,” Izuku admonishes, but his voice is closer to a coo, devoid of anything close to criticism. In his arms, he cradles a child, dressed in a sleep-suit decorated to look like a reindeer. “Do you wanna try?”

“Mamamamm.”

Bakugou snorts. “Think that’s a yes.”

“In a minute,” Izuku promises Katsuro, and holding their baby safely against him, leans over and kisses his partner on the lips.

“Merry Christmas, Kacchan.”

#bakudeku secret santa 2018 #fic

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