Work Text:
Her laugh endlessly echoes throughout the dark halls that lead to where she currently is, dimmed lights yet made her tears shimmer down the little wrinkles on the edge of her soft eyes as she hunched over the force of her laughter. Izuku was grateful she was alone, cocooned in her jacket— that suspiciously smelled like cinnamon and rubble —one she kept when she knew she needed to stay longer at work, the moon welling its way through the faculty’s windows.
Maybe Izuku was tired—she wouldn’t ever think of something like this on a normal day. Maybe it’s because she was hanging out with the students too much, getting tricked and pulled every class to slip and spill about innocent desires, teased over her obvious obsession with a certain hero, and sometimes the girls in her class forced her to talk about love.
Maybe it’s just that— the kids rubbed on her, eventually planting an unknown metaphorical seed on her subconscious that she never noticed the vines growing until it made her trip on her toes. But Izuku was better than that. She was better than the woman she was seven years ago. She was better than the kid that locked her heart away to obvious urges with the mask of controlling your heart—but everyone , everyone— knew how long those tendrils had been growing, stemming from every corner, wrapping itself around her heart. It controlled her. Always.
She would own it now; let the chambers be opened; embrace it as it is. She’s grown into herself. A hero, a teacher, a friend, a daughter, and everything her own eyes couldn’t comprehend. What harm was there to admitting she liked—no, loved Katsuki?
Another laugh bursts out of her, a comedic timing with a small ding coming from her phone, read with her name specifically—the final pump to her heart.
╭———————————————————————╮
かっちゃん now
Nerd, pickin’ you up tomorrow. Bring your helmet.
╰ ———————————————————————╯
╭———————————————————————╮
かっちゃん now
Don’t be fucking late. Exact 5. Or else I'm off.
╰———————————————————————╯
Izuku always knew they were both an open book to each other. It wasn’t a surprise; it shouldn’t be one given their history, but— look, when Izuku realized she liked Katsuki, she never expected it to stay hidden forever. After all, she had a mouth bigger than the thumming heart in her chest—and could we be honest and say that this was Katsuki Bakugou— what she didn’t expect was exactly how easy Katsuki caught on.
Izuku jogs her way along the quad the moment it hits five, which was a bad idea when she feels her phone vibrating through her jeans. Texts and calls it seemed.
Spotting Katsuki was like a punch to the chest, the familiar intimate silhouette she was infatuated with, leaning half of her weight against the bike striped with green and orange, frames a comical imitation of her old grenade gauntlets. The first time Katsuki let her ride along was a distant memory already, but like the moment she sat down on those leather seats, wrapped her arms tight around her taunt waist—it felt so refreshing and freeing. Reliving the moment no matter what.
Screaming out her name and a wave catches the blonde’s attention. Flashing her license— which shouldn’t be so hot— to the guard. Pulling the visor of her helmet up, flaring red, sharp eyes that graze her heart with pleasure. It was always a view, but with the added revelation from yesterday, she felt stiff. Wanting to hide.
Katsuki closes the distance by a few strides, towering over her, and Izuku notes that she’s still in her work, combat boots, giving her a few inches in height, so when she leans forward, it feels dominating. Predator to prey. Finally understanding why red was a color for danger. Izuku doesn’t know how long she stood frozen staring into them until a painful and heating flicker of a finger was thrown right between her eyebrows.
“O—Owh! What was that for?! I’m just a few minutes late, not like we’re running off somewhere. Are we, Kacchan?”
“Shut up.” And that she does. All her usual remark to her snarkyness gone with how serious Katsuki looked, eyes gliding over every inch. “Somethin’s different. What the fuck did you do?” The scowl that lives etched to her skin greets itself now.
Izuku, confused, tilts her head on the side. She hasn’t done anything, really. A normal routine, normal classes, and coffee with pistachios, she recalls. Nothing.
Katsuki does the unthinkable and bites the tip of her nose—and before Izuku could react, the attack continued in different ways. She gets poked on her ribs, tugs in her curls, nose sliding over her scalp as Katsuki sniffs her, a pinch on her cheek that gets pulled from both sides revealing her braced teeth.
“Are you done?”
With that, she shifts completely. “You fucking—idiot! You fucking prick—you asshole.” She snaps indifferently, “You like me, don’t you?”
What?
What?
It hasn’t been a day; Izuku barely had the chance to explore itself alone—what? Izuku stammers, mouth left gaping in the air. She drops the helmet that nestled under her arms out of shock. What. Katsuki kneels to pick it up, dusting the top with her palms. Tilting her chin upwards to catch green eyes.
“Well?! Don’t ignore me, idiot.”
Whatever. Between them, Izuku has never been the better one to keep secrets. Hell—Izuku confessed having One For All just from seeing her tears once. Not even including the last decade where her zipped mouth goes slack when the explosive girl is around.
Watch.
“No.”
“Really, Deku?” The cheeky tone was alarming; usually when she gets like this, it’s that Katsuki knows she’s going to get whatever she wants out of the younger one, standing tall again—stupid combat boots—crossing her arms on top of her chest that Izuku follows, suddenly aware of the littlest movements like her arms flexing, accentuating her tight chest with a cleavage peeking over her tank top. “Careful where your eyes fucking land, fuckin’ obvious as shit. Wanna answer me again this time, Deku?”
She relaxes again with the heavy defeat. “Fine….! W—what gave it away?”
Katsuki just smiles, almost derogatively. “How you look at me.”
Izuku, aware of herself from moments ago, feels scandalous. “W–What? Don’t joke, Kacchan! I’m serious.” whining.
Katsuki starts walking towards the gate with a shrug, Izuku following. “M’not joking. Your gawking isn’t new, that’s for sure. But this—? I’ve always looked back, you know? Y’kept your eyes on me, and so did I. I’d know everything. ‘S nothing big.”
Izuku flushes pink “.....You can’t just say that and not expect me to not fall.”
“Disgusting, corny shit already? And you’re still gonna fall for this, don’t need to do anything.” She had a point. Katsuki snorts and lets out a few pops from her palms, suddenly yelling. “Hah! I fucking win!” Was it ever a competition? “You fell first, you nutsack. Izuku has a crush on me!” sparkling pops turning into bigger celebratory explosions, her own fireshow display.
“Whatever, Kacchan.” She dismisses.
Katsuki swings her leg over the bike, her palm opened towards Izuku to pass her helmet on. “Come closer.” Izuku does. helping her stray off a few green curls away to a small bun, not wanting it to get tangled if they drove with the wind, noticing the ends of her back hair brush pass over her shoulders. “Hairs gettin’ long. You thinking of getting it cut?”
“What? Not impressing Kacchan anymore?” Izuku jokes but she shuts it off fast by shoving the helmet down her head. Slapping the top hard enough to know it at least had a small impact on Izuku.
“ Shuddup . Just sit your pretty ass now.” Izuku chokes on nothing. “Auntie is waiting for us already, don’t wanna make her wait.”
“Auntie—you mean my mom?! What is this?”
“Kept calling me yesterday, said she wanted to see how we were doing.”
Something she underestimated was how close her Mom and Katsuki had been. She can’t pinpoint exactly when but there’s been instances where they both used each other as cards to get their way to Izuku. “So she told you but— oh, I don’t know— not her rightful daughter?!”
“Told ya’ I’m the better kid.”
The conversation gets left there with no following thought after. Izuku was never hurt, never even hoped for something, just a relief that Katsuki caught on. Pure acceptance. She felt free from it—and they were best friends; she could always fall to that.
For the next few months, the ego boost Katsuki had after the revelation did wonders for no one but herself. She teased Izuku, announced it to everyone, and used it as a way to really “gatekeep” Izuku from any person that talked to her—Ochaco says it’s cockblocking, which she could admit isn’t that far from it. Not that she cared anyway; her eyes were already settled on someone, but if Katsuki liked dragging a reaction out of her, she'd play along.
Sure, it was awkward for the first few weeks, but eventually Izuku picked her dignity up and fought back.
“You know, with how much you’ve been tugging my pigtails, I’d think you’re the one falling for me, Kacchan.” She throws into the busy air of the bar, taking a bite out of her appetizer.
“Mhm, really?” Katsuki mocks, “Grit your teeth for me.”
Izuku puts both of her hands up across her head in surrender. “Okay, calm—calm down!”
“Fall? For who? You? Izuku, two decades in, but do you even know me?”
“Oh, shut up, Kacchan! I just know your type. Let’s see how it feels when I rub this on your face!” Izuku sticks her tongue out like a kid, emphasizing how long they’ve known each other when Katsuki snickers lightly on her drink from how much she still resembles the same five-year-old Izuku she used to catch insects with.
“What, you're gonna seduce me then? All this? Yeah, goodluck.”
“Mhm? Like it’s hard, Katsuki ?”
Izuku sits back relaxed, allowing her loose blouse to fall and revealing faint freckles swimming against flushed skin of her chest, the faint outline of a bare breast revealing lightly, the knot on her tie lax, sliding off completely down where it draws red eyes, trailing off and catching Izuku’s legs spreading wide where her fitted flare jeans hugged every curve perfectly, fully stressing well-built muscled thighs, one Katsuki ached to touch.
Her mouth goes dry. “Fuck, Teach —”
Izuku cuts her off by dragging her stool closer, their noses almost touching, a show off in strength “In your words, ‘ don’t need to do anything’ so watch out, Kacchan—” Both meals get abandoned with Izuku storming out with a canon— Katsuki chasing behind to reprimand whatever nonsense she spat.
Izuku forces herself to swallow down the pills given by Yorikoshi—the school nurse who rightly trained and followed Recovery Girl’s path. “Those headaches don’t bother you anymore, ma’am?”
Before Izuku could reply, another voice cut, muffled by the curtain around them. “Don’t bother over her answer, dumbfuck’s a liar here. Her head still feels stuffed, those coughs are makin’ it worse, too.”
A silent “Sorry!” from Izuku followed after.
“Noted. Thank you, Dynamight-san. I’ll leave you both to it. You can come in, she’s okay.”
Katsuki looks good in her uniform as she steps closer to the bed Izuku sits on, stripes across her torso like a target to be devoured. Gauntlets loosely fitted, her mask pushed up against her forehead like a band revealing soft-sharpened features, half of her hair styled in a small ponytail, the front section loose around her ears noticeably too short to be tied in any way.
Izuku gladly takes it in, shameless even with Katsuki raising an eyebrow at her, this time clearly affected by roaming eyes too, cheeks and nose flaming a little.
“Sick enough to check me out, creep?”
“Can’t punish me though.”
Katsuki’s eyes twitched in frustration—as much as she wanted to drag whatever this was, she needed to make sure Izuku was okay first. “You’re eating with me, come on. Up.”
“F—Fine. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you had a new case to chase on. Saw the news from last night.”
“Aizawa’s in it. We finished the briefing. Some of the kids in third year are involved, so this was the best spot. Didn’t have anything else to do so—well, looked for you.”
Izuku beams for the first time after a week, her head sizzling with something else. “Are you mad?” She asks, looking up with guilty eyes. She’s been hiding her exhaustion, forcing herself to push through; it was just a simple cold and a migraine. But she knew how mad Katsuki could get when she pulls something like this, so being caught red-handed after purposely avoiding it was embarrassing.
“Saw it from a mile away. You’re not exactly the best liar." She appraises Izuku, scoffing, a bit of frustration, and sympathy blended. “Just—let me take care of you, Teach.”
“O–Oh! ‘Kay, Kacchan!”
“We can stop training for tomorrow—no, don't give me that face. Refuse me, and I'll kill you.”
Izuku sits on the small section of the cafeteria reserved for staff members. Katsuki offers to take both of their meals, seeing how long the line was. Watching her distant figure being eyed by basically everyone.
There are times where she needs to ground herself when it happens. Izuku’s possessiveness over the girl wasn’t a secret at all—it was always present even before her feelings were solely platonic and familial. But the romantic bloom worsened everything for her.
She didn’t like it. How close Arata was for their shoulders to touch, how Kiyone placed a palm over her biceps to steady herself with the busy line moving, the table next to her whispers of what should be private thoughts. What did they know about Katsuki?
“Hey.”
“What?” It's sharp, dismissive.
“Well, you’re fucking peachy. What’s with the attitude, princess?” Izuku stiffens in her seat, finally facing Katsuki carrying both trays, expressing a questioning boredom.
“A–Ah! So sorry! Kacchan I didn’t mean to—”
“Relax. Whatever got you so riled up, shove it in. Eat.” Katsuki pulls the chair beside her and sits. The surprising aroma distracts Izuku from her momentarily shame. “Here—bought something. They didn’t have your aloe drinks.”
“How did you know? Wait, Kacchan, this is so sweet—the aloe helps me with my sore coughs, but they sold out in every store, and I couldn’t order them only ‘cause the site crashed.”
Katsuki lets her excitement soar, replacing the pale, drained woman she was just a few minutes ago, flushed in color, pink from the tips of her ears and nose. Cheeks stuffed with rice and kaarage that she keeps feeding her.
Katsuki was unusually focused on her. Izuku noticed; she could barely get a word in, her mouth always full. She looks towards her own half-empty tray towards the other, her utensils still cleanly wrapped with a napkin. Untouched.
The blonde notices her staring. “Want my sides?”
“N-No. Shouldn’t you be eating? You’re still on schedule; take what you can before they page you. I can feed myself, Kacchan.”
“Ah—well, okay. Right. Yeah.“
They both fell into a comfortable conversation, but Izuku’s brain works double time, taking a moment to absorb everything. Katsuki had a slight tense on her shoulder; she’s attentive, sure—but her actions seemed to be loaded with an uncharacteristic cautiousness this time. Getting up every moment her water cup was empty for a refill, had tissues in hand to wipe the soup spilling onto her skirt.
Izuku, wary of her friend, comes up with something small. The moment Katsuki sits back down, Izuku gestures to her to open her mouth, feeding a small piece of the chicken with her own chopsticks. Katsuki eats it with no hesitation. Shoulders jumping a little and her face scowling momentarily, a tale she knew the older one was happy.
Katsuki is taking care of her, feeding her, making sure she drank, and as attentive as she was, why was it suddenly okay for her to be this close? A direct contact with someone sick. It’s nothing new, though. Katsuki cared for her in even worse states. Getting in the same shower, scrubbing dead skin off after a cast gets removed—hell, she’s even washed her ass.
But Izuku never questioned them and made sure her feelings for the blonde were kept at bay to not blindside her. Katsuki, despite her teasing, was always clear with her intentions too, not wanting to accidentally lead Izuku on.
She watches as Katsuki tears a bag open, revealing caramel bites that she is still obsessed with for her sweet tooth. It’s nothing new, but Izuku has never felt this amount of love, care, and tenderness in such a small gesture. It’s too domestic; it hurts.
Izuku chokes at her own realization. A heated palm rubs over her back with repeated motion, a slight pressure applied, small pats that do eventually help her coughs. She’s barely giving her an eye, focusing completely on her food, like caring for her was a natural instinct by now. Fully embedded in her hands to protect.
“You ‘kay?”
“M—Mhm.”
By the time they both get up to sort their trays, Izuku can’t hold it back anymore.
“You like me.” She doesn’t waver; she’s not nervous; she was sure of it that something changed. Green eyes follow Katsuki’s movements as she throws the bottles, spooning the grains out to the trash, turning around to finally acknowledge Izuku, and the air shifts with something unspoken.
“Tch. What gave it away?” Izuku jumps in surprise when Katsuki leaned closer, her gloved hands taking on her naked ones and began cleaning them with gentle wipes of the tissue. Careful around her scarred knuckles. Soft. Squeezing them twice before letting go. “Took you two days to catch on, so what gave it away?”
“This. Your actions. Something—it just feels different.” Because the acts of love weren't foreign to her, no matter how subtle.
Katsuki lets out a rumbling noise Izuku can’t decipher but was so characteristically her. “You still lost, loser. Sniffed it out of ya’ in just a day. You took two days.” Feigning nonchalance as she walks out. Izuku stuck in thought but followed behind.
“I don’t think this is a good time to joke around, Kacchan—” Izuku gets stopped with pining hands on her shoulder, looking up to see a sadly fond expression plastered on Katsuki’s.
“Izuku, this isn’t my answer.”
“I never assumed it was.”
“Look—I just figured my shit out. I don’t want to move anywhere from here until I’m sure. It wouldn’t be fair to you. To both of us. I—I can’t fuck this up, Izuku. You’re more than just the stupid feelings I have, and I know you feel the same way. You never pushed me, did you? Never gave in.”
Izuku laughs; snot and plegm build up in her throat from how hard she was laughing. Snorting as she closes the distance and wraps her arms around Katsuki’s neck. Nuzzling in between the junction of her shoulders. “Yo—You’re too—too serious, Katsuki!—ppftttt.”
“Grit your fucking teeth.”
“Ne—was I right at least? That I didn’t need to do anything?”
“Hah!? What do you mean—you, gorgeous fuck. Of course that’s what you focus on.”
“Kacchan? You know I’ll wait, right? We’ll wait. That’s not new between us, isn’t it? Got two decades to prove that. And you’re right. You’re more important than whatever feelings I have. I didn’t want to push it anywhere as selfish as I was when it came to you—but I just can’t. I love you too much, Katsuki. I love you in every form love could be.”
A hand lays low behind her back, gentle, patient. “I know, Izuku. I know.” locking in a secret promise to herself by planting a kiss right on her temple. “I know.”
They don’t really talk about it after that, not necessarily avoiding it, but it was just something inevitable, something they both settled on that would come at the right time. But this didn’t mean nothing changed between the already shaken dynamic between them. No.
They get closer, shared intimacy an often occurrence, where breaks and weekends would be spent on training and preparing lesson plans they’d go on dates instead. Little changes in routine and schedule, making sure the other fits exactly where they wanted in their life. Making molds of each other. It was smooth. Easy. Fun. Katsuki eventually courts her mom, sticking with formalities and tradition. Izuku, on the other hand, continues going on hiking trips during weekends along with Masaru and Mitsuki.
Izuku squirms in her lap as Katsuki breathlessly kisses her, wandering hands, leaning forward as Izuku arches her back against the harsh coolness of the bike's engine. Sliding a little closer in her lap, it encourages Katsuki to hold on to her plush thighs, fitting perfectly around her waist. A free hand cradling the back of her head so they don’t hit the clutches in the heat of the moment.
Sweet lips go to trail over her jaw, peppering kisses down to her throat. Pulling momentarily, leaving Izuku a canvas of her taunting, painted red over the backdrop of freckling stars. Katsuki has no self-control, so she dives right back in just to be completely rejected. A palm pushing her chest back.
“N-Not here. Not in front of mom’s house—fuck.”
“Shut up. Just let me kiss you. Alright, baby? S’helping me relax.”
“You said that three minutes ago, and now your hand is on my c—chest! Kacchan, not here!” Feeling scandalous, Izuku slides off, patting down the formed wrinkles on her dress. Kneeling down to fix her hair on the rear view mirror.
Katsuki ruffles her hair, another mess. “No point taming that unruly hair.”
“Like you can talk, Kacchan!” A peck gets placed on her cheek right where the clustered scar is. “Ready?”
“Mhm.”
“Mom, I want you to meet my girlfriend.”
“About time.”