bnha boys | types of hugs.

pairings: izuku midoriya, shouto todoroki, katsuki bakugo, hitoshi shinsou / gn!reader

words: 1.3k

warnings: none, mild angst?

notes: this started as a kind of writing practise for shouto, but i got carried away. this may have a follow up part with more characters if you guys want it :’)

izuku midoriya  -  the tearful hug

when izuku looks at his hands, he sees a battlefield. scars and veins spiderwebbing over skin, every inch a blemish, a blessing, a curse. they're rough to his own touch, worn by months of labour and love - they're etched by memories, by pain, by a quirk that has only just stopped feeling alien to his own blood. they're good hands! strong hands! but he knows he doesn't like to look at them, and that he draws them away when his mother goes to link their fingers together, and that as much as he sometimes wants to reach out and feel your own hand beneath his, he puts them in his pockets whilst you walk together, and pushes the feeling down. he's seen your hands - they're soft and lovely, warm when they graze his wrist when you pull him over to you excitedly, tender when you brush his bangs back from his forehead. it brings tears to his eyes, how soft your hands are. he knows it's silly, he knows he wouldn't trade his quirk for the world, that each and every scar on his skin, each welt between his fingers, is a step from the person he used to be - but still, when one night you gently wind your fingers through his and pull insistently when he starts and tries to pull his arm away, he feels his eyes film with tears.

"sorry," he mumbles, throat tight. the world is blurry, but he feels your hand squeeze his own, tight, fingers brushing over the coarse skin, and you bring him to you and bury his face in the crook of your neck. he sniffles there, but his heart is hammering, soaring in his chest, that you see his scars and feel them with your own beautiful hands and you decide yes, he is still beautiful, still someone worth your time, your disposition, your love.

he shakes in your arms but his other hand comes up to cup yours, and you press back against his skin with something like worship.

shouto todoroki  -  the acclimated hug

shouto todoroki does not have the privilege of casual touch. if he was accustomed to it once, in the fuzzy dark memories where his mother presses kisses to his damp hairline and smooths the tears off his cheeks, it is a weakness quickly unlearned by years of isolation, of fear and pain, of his father moulding him into a perfect weapon, a thing only good to be wielded. he is unresponsive when you throw your arms around his neck after they return from kamino, doesn't understand the way your terror manifests into a need to touch, to feel his skin beneath yours, hear his heartbeat against your ear. terror for him as a child meant curling up on the hardwood floors, alone - if he was lucky.

you accommodate him to light touches. you don't like to think of it in such a clinical way, but you suppose it is conditioning. a brush of fingers when you hand him dinner on a plate, your shoulders nudging together when you sit beside each other on the couch, a pinkie finger hooking through his when you don't want to lose him in a crowd. overtime, he learns. he learns the beauty in the contact of skin, in feeling your pulse thud dully beneath his thumb, in the solidarity of your body entwined in his arms when you return from a patrol unharmed.

he’s still unsure when he presses his face into your neck, when his arms come up to wind round your waist, but you're like familiarity to him, and he will take all of that he can get.

katsuki bakugo  -  the stolen hug

katsuki is a person who thrives in isolation. affection is not given by him, it is pried from him by people he knows are better, softer, kinder. it is taken by kirishima, who going to fail his exams if katsuki doesn't help him study. by mina, who beams when he shoves leftovers at her because he knew she'd skipped dinner to revise. by you, and your smiles and your eyes that shine at him like he can do no wrong. you're so fucking wrong, he knows, but it was nice to indulge, for a while. after kamino, the curtain rises. he can no longer pretend he is worthy of the shining worship in your face, nor the worry it harbours when you see the circles under his eyes, nor the sadness when he breaks down before you in his room, back to you, arms braced on the desk, screaming at you to get out as his words stick in his throat, a bitter pill he can't choke down.

katsuki does not give affection. it is given to him, by people who deserve more. he knows this when you don't flinch away, when he feels your arms wind gently over his stomach and your cheek come to rest on his heaving back. there are tears dripping down his face, and his breath is hoarse in his throat when he inhaled sharply, but you cling tight, shaking, gentle, like you still think he's a thing worth saving. and for a minute he lets you - he slumps under your touch, sobs out his fury, his anguish, and then he lets you some more, till the tears dry on his face and your limbs begins to feel at one with his. then he steps away, and your arms retract, but you have stolen more of his heart, more of his affection.

he thinks he might let you keep it, pathetic creature though he is.

hitoshi shinsou  -  the tentative hug

shinsou is not in grade school anymore. he knows what the people around him think of him. he used to hate the way their eyes dropped, stiff and cold, when they found out about his quirk. it's an instinctive fear, he supposes, coals stoked over a fire. the knowledge that their wills are something malleable to him, something to prod and shift and change, that their thoughts can become nothing more than his own words, chastised into empty ears and then forgotten, lights up something primal and terrified in them. he used to think the disgust was worse than the fear, but now that he is highly accustomed to both, he thinks he'd choose disgust any day. disgust you can work at, with strong will. fear clings to your bones, lurks in your eyes, stays your touches, no matter how hard you work at it. so he gives up trying. he learns to expect the judgement in their eyes, and he combats it by making his own.

and then there's you. you invite yourself into his life and he can't bring himself to evict you, even though he knows it's going to hurt worse when you find out, when the warmth in your eyes and the admiration in your smile is replaced by something cold and rotten. when you call him your friend for the first time, he comes clean; he watches with resigned despair as your smile slips, your eyebrows cinch in a frown. he decides he won't watch as you get up and walk out of his life, so he looks away, eyes shut tight, waiting for the emptiness. and then he feels the pressure on his shoulder, and he goes rigid with wariness, with hope, as you tuck your head comfortably into his shoulder and sling an arm over his neck. he feels his breath shake in his throat and his eyes widen, and he searches for the telltale buzz of his quirk, because this can't be real. it's a fantasy, a dream.

and then you call him a hero, defensively, reverently, and he cracks because there's no way he could make this happen.

it's not something he could've conjured even in his wildest dreams.

Crush (On) Me

Shinsou, Tamaki, Kirishima, and Bakugou confessing to their crushes. Awkward confessions are awkward.

Shinsou

Although he’s pretty confident you like him, there’s always been something holding him back from telling you. It’s Valentine’s Day though, and what better day to confess, right? That’s his plan at least, to confess he likes during your usual walk home together, until he sees Denki walk up to you after class sheepishly. He tells you he’s always liked you and admired your kindness and your sense of humor, and how you’re practically stunning.

Shinsou is annoyed. There’s a pit forming in his stomach, and his fists clench. Realistically, a part of him acknowledges that Denki might be a better fit for you.

He’s popular, and has the makings of a hero. 

Still, something gnaws at Shinsou’s conscience. Denki doesn’t really know you like he does. He doesn’t know how short your temper is, or how awkward you get when your jokes backfire.

He also doesn’t know how gorgeous you look when two of you walk home home together, the sunset rays forming a halo around you. How despite that, your smile is still the most stunning thing Shinsou’s ever seen.

He knows it’s selfish, but he can’t let you go. Even if you would be happier with Denki. As soon as he intends to make his presence known, he hears your voice.

“Thanks Denki. That’s really sweet of you. But, um… I don’t think I can accept your feelings….” You hesitate, and Shinsou can practically hear the the embarrassment in your voice. “You see, I actually have a thing for Hito–”

“–shi…” Your voice trails off when you glance sideways and meet surprised lilac eyes. “Shit.” Before he can blink, you’ve run off with a hasty apology, Denki’s head darting from where you once stood to Shinsou’s tense form. 

Shinsou doesn’t even hesitate to run after you. All his training’s paid off, and he’s able to catch up without breaking a sweat. You jump when you feel a hand grasp your shoulder, cursing under your breath.

“….Please tell me this isn’t who I think it is.”

“(Y/N).” You expect Shinsou to be amused, but he actually sounds quite serious. It causes you to meet his gaze, and for once, instead of his teasing glint, there’s a softness in them you can’t seem to place. 

It takes you awhile to realize you haven’t responded. Awkward. “Um, yes?”

You lock eyes for a long, drawn-out moment, before he turns around and walks away, hands in his pockets. “You’re heading the wrong way. Isn’t your home in this direction?”

You gape at him. Is he really… is he pretending he didn’t hear that? Or is he just messing with you? You follow his lead, and the two of you make it past the school gates before you give into the urge to speak up. “Hitoshi, look, what I said back there–”

“Hm? Oh yeah. Thanks for saying that.” His tone is casual, but you notice his voice wavers at the end. He coughs as if to clear his throat. “It saves me the trouble of saying it myself.”

“…What?”  You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You heard me, right?” The tips of his ears are also pink, you notice. He rubs the back of his neck, before making eye contact with you. “I like you, too.”

Tamaki

Call it cowardice, but the end of the school year is approaching, and Tamaki still hasn’t confessed to you. It’s pretty obvious to anyone with eyes that he has a thing for you. Hell, Fatgum and Kirishima make it their personal agenda to set you two up. 

But he can’t. Every time he thinks about confessing to you, every time he practices in private, he freezes up. Stumble over his words. More than anyone else, he doesn’t want to look like a fool in front of you.

You’re one of his best friends, a capable hero-in-training. You’re brave, righteous, and compassionate. One of the most important people in his life. And he’s been stupidly, deeply in love with you for years now. He just can’t tell you that.

—

Graduation comes sooner than he expected, and you’re both thrown into the real world. Of course, Fatgum wanted to celebrate his graduation with a few drinks, despite Tamaki’s protests that you’re all underage. Somehow he manages to sneak him, you, and Kirishima into a local bar. While Kirishima and Fatgum quickly devolve into arm-wrestling contests, you and Tamaki chat away about your future plans at the bar. 

Maybe it was the third cup of sake that Fat had poured him, but Tamaki suddenly finds your lips very appealing….

“Tamaki? Tama-chan? Hellooooo, are you even listening.” He snaps out of his daze when he sees your hand waving in front of his face. Only to blush furiously once he realizes he’s been staring, and—oh god—drooling a bit.

“W-What? I’m listening, yes,” he says as he rubs his mouth with his sleeve.

For a second, you leer at him before you burst into giggles, clearly feeling the influence of the alcohol yourself. “I was saying… you and I need to hang out more often! You never call me. Especially now that we’re going to different agencies. I’m going to miss you, Tama-ji.”

Tamaki nearly jumps once he feels you wrap yourself around his arm. He pales when he realizes… what part of you is pressed against him…. dear god Fatgum was planning on killing him out of embarrassment wasn’t he….

He clenches his eyes shut. “(Y/N), I—you shouldn’t—we—“

His eyes snap open when he hears a sniffle. To his horror, you start tearing up. “Y-You mean you won’t miss me?”

“N-No, of course I will! That’s not what I meant. I–”

“Hehe… so you will miss me?” you say, a mischievous glint in your eyes. 

He stammers, rendered speechless from your mood swings. Who knew you could be so cunning… Tamaki honestly doesn’t know how much longer he can last with you teasing him like this… 

“That’s good,” you continue. “Because…” He nearly jumps when he feels your breath hot on his neck, shivering once you nip at the tip of his ear. Your voice is low, seductive. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

This is going to be a long night. 

–

You wake up to a pounding headache. Groaning and clutching your head, you shift only to kick something in your movement. Something—or someone—that mumbles an “ow.”

Your jaw drops when you realize it’s Tamaki behind you. Sitting up abruptly, you realize that one, you’re on a cramped bed with Tamaki, and two…. you aren’t in your old dorm, or your parents’ house. Which means… 

Oh god oh god oh god did you sleep with him? Shit, this wasn’t how your last night was supposed to go. You were friends, for God’s sake! You couldn’t ruin that with one night (and undoubtable attraction you’d had for him since first year). Meanwhile Tamaki’s eyes shoot open once he comes to a similar realization, and cowers into his pillow.

You decide to break the silence first. “W-Where are we?”

“My dorm,” Tamaki responds. Still facing the wall and studiously refusing to look you in the eye. 

“Did I—did I take advantage of you?!” Your voice comes out in squeak, at the same time that Tamaki blurts out, “I’ve liked you since first year!”

The both of you pause. “What did you just say?” You both ask each other.

“You first,” you tell him. Hiding his face behind his palms, he repeats his confession. You can practically feel the heat emanating from his cheeks, this close to him. 

“I-I know this is pretty pathetic of me, telling you like this. But I can’t… I can’t just let my feelings stay in the dark any longer. I understand if you don’t want to see me again, or even be friends anymore—“

He’s interrupted by the feel of your arms embracing him from behind. Tamaki stiffens in your hold, his hands shaking as they fall to grasp yours. “W-What are you…?”

“Tamaki, you’re silly. I’ve liked you for just as long.”

He’s silent, and you twine the one of his hands with yours. The affectionate squeeze he gives you back is reassuring and when he finally turns to meet your gaze, you flash him a grin. “I’m just glad we finally told each other. You are my suneater, after all.”

Extra: 

“…So, if I like you and you like me, that’s a relief! I was worried I’d forced myself on you…”

“W-We didn’t—” Tamaki blushes. “We didn’t do anything last night…”

“Oh, really? That’s too bad…. Was hoping we could put your hero name to use.” You muse, eyebrows waggling suggestively. 

The mood changes, however, when he promptly faints. “Tamaki? Hey Tamaki! I was just kidding! Ah, jeez.”

Kirishima

The light of his phone screen is bright in the dark room. Like he always finds himself doing lately, he’s texting you late into the night, this time relaying the story of the time him, Denki, and Sero played a prank on Bakugou. Butterflies form in his chest at the sight of your response. 

“Oh my god, Eiji, that’s hilarious! You’re so funny! And cute. Thanks for brightening my day. You would make the perfect boyfriend.”

Before he knows it, he’s typing out a response. 

“You know…you’d be the perfect girlfriend.” But he can’t. Something stops him. Could he really…. say this? What if it ruined the precarious friendship you two had? No, he knew you better thank that. You wouldn’t let something like feelings come between the two of you. 

But there’s still something’s stopping him.

He ends up just sending a simple, “You really think so? Thanks! Glad I could help.”

—

Kirishima forgot how adorable you look in a dress, but he’s regretting it now. Something about seeing you in casual clothes always made his mouth run dry. The two of you were hanging out, having just seen the latest romcom at the nearby theater, and it’s late. 

You shiver and the action doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “Here, take this,” he says, shrugging off his sweater. You try to protest, but he laughs it off. “I don’t get cold easily.” He’s already draping it across your shoulders. There’s something so… loving, intimate about the action, that it has something painful pang in his chest. 

Kirishima seems deep in thought tonight, you notice. He’s usually talking your ear off but now, it’s mostly you talking with him occasionally responding if he’s not distracted. Plus, with that slight furrow in his brow, the downcast look in his eyes… You don’t like him looking so down. 

Linking your arm around his seems to snap him out of it momentarily. “Even though you say you’re not cold, your arm is freezing,” you quip.  You try not to focus on the bulging biceps you can feel through his shirt, but it’s proving quite hard. He gives you a half-hearted smile, but your efforts don’t seem to cheer him up as much as you hoped it would. 

“Yeah, it is pretty cold.”

When he sighs suddenly, you still. Leaves rustle past your standing forms. Something has seemed off with him all night, and this is your opportunity.  

“What’s up, Eiji?”

“Nothing, it’s just….” He groans, seeming to change his mind suddenly. “God, this is so lame, but… hey, (Y/N), what would you do if you liked someone but weren’t sure they liked you back? Or even if they did… you were worried it would ruin your friendship?”

You blink, pondering his question. Inside though, your heart’s racing. Is this question geared towards your relationship? Is he finally picking up on your hints? “I would probably confess to them anyways,” you finally say, gazing at the night sky. “Life is so short. I wouldn’t want to regret not saying anything.”

“That’s true… that’s true!” He clenches his fist, seemingly fired up by your words. “Then… I know this is really unmanly of me, but I need to say it.”

“I need to tell you that I—” Before he could say anything more, you cut him off with a kiss to his cheek. Or it would’ve been, if he hadn’t turned his head to the side at the last moment, and your lips press against the corner of his mouth. His eyes widen, red creeping to his cheeks. 

You’re similarly flustered. “I—I’m sorry!”

After a beat of silence, he responds, “Don’t be.” Then he’s kissing you, his hands cradling the sides of your face as if he’s afraid he’ll lose you. You melt into the kiss, tangling your fingers into his unruly hair. When you break apart, the two of you are flushed, panting heavily.

You’re the first to speak. “That was… wow…” 

Kirishima meets your gaze, the red blazing under his cheeks. “I think you already got the message,” he starts sheepishly, “but in case you didn’t… I really like you, (Y/N)! Damn, I wish I did this in a manlier way…”

You laugh, pulling him into a hug. “I think it was perfect.”

Bakugou

He glares once he notices that loser Sero talking to you again. Denki joins in, adding to his pun, and you laugh. At this point, Bakugou’s practically gritting his teeth, and Kirishima notices. “Woah, man. What’s got you so riled up?” He follows the trajectory of Bakugou’s glare, and an eyebrow raises once he realizes it’s directed at you. Kirishima’s smart enough to connect two dots. “Oh… is it  (Y/N)? I should’ve figured you were the jealous type,” he teases.

“Shut the hell up, you idiot!” Bakugou fumes. The outburst is loud enough to draw your attention, and you glance in his direction curiously, smiling as you wave at him. The sight of his fierce glare, however, has your smile faltering, and you snap your head back towards your conversation with Sero.

Kirishima sighs. “Listen, man, you’re not going to accomplish anything by glaring at her like that. Hell, she probably thinks you hate her.”

Bakugou levels his glare at his friend, about to yell at him to shut the fuck up, you dumbass, (Y/N)’s fucking smart, unlike you before your grimace flashes in his mind again, and he hesitates. His fists clench when he realizes that expression on your face bothers him, and for once, he has no response. Kirishima takes advantage of that.

“Look, I could give you some pointers if you want. Not that you need them,” he adds quickly, once noticing Bakugou’s glare turn downright murderous. “But I don’t like seeing you all down like this, man. It’s weird.”

He thinks about your grimace again. “….Che, why not.”

—

Bakugou tries to keep Kirishima’s pointers in mind when he asks you on a date to the arcade, he really does. But it doesn’t help that he thinks they’re fucking dumb. And that he’s terrible at following them.

Compliment her. Girls love compliments.

“Your hair… doesn’t look half-bad today.”

“Um… thank you, Katsuki?”

Open the doors for her. Be a gentleman. Girls dig a guy with manners. 

When he opens the door to the arcade, he swings his arm back too fast and elbows you in the face. Hard. He yells at the staff for ice for your bloody nose.

Don’t be so competitive man. Arrogance is a turn-off. Real men let their girl win sometimes.

Okay, that pointer, in Bakugou’s opinion, is complete garbage. You aren’t some pansy who couldn’t handle his best. You are his crush after all.

Still, he finds himself going a bit… easier on you while playing Street Fighter.  The swelling on your nose has gone down enough for you to play. The date has gone terribly so far, but he figures he could try one last thing. When your victory flashes across the screen, he mutters a half-hearted congratulations. Only to see you frowning at him. 

“Katsuki… is something wrong?”

Other than the way his fucking heart seems to jump into his goddamn throat every time you say his name like that?

“No.” He bristles. “Why ask?”

“You’ve been acting…weird today. Like complimenting me. And letting me win.”

“What, you’re saying I can’t be nice?” 

“No, it’s just… not like you.” Before he can retort, you hold your hand up, asking for . “I like you the way you are. I mean, you’re kind of violent and scary at times, but you’re sweet in a way. Did I do something wrong? Sorry about that. I didn’t know if you hated me or not since you always look so mad at me. We can just call it if you want–”

“No!” he blurts out. Your self-conscious ramblings really fucking annoy him. Can’t you fucking see none of this is your fault? He’s ranting before he even realized it. “Fuck! Don’t leave. Shit, everything’s messed up because of that idiot. It’s not you. That damn Kirishima made everything worse. Him and his stupid pointers,” he grumbles.

“This was supposed to be a great date but it’s a fucking disaster because of that dumbass…”

“Katsuki…” You try not to laugh at his annoyed expression. He really wouldn’t take it well. But you can’t help it, he’s cute when he’s ruffled. “I still had a great time.” 

He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion. “For real?”

“Yes, honestly! I mean… any time I spend with you is amazing,” you admit shyly. 

“…Whatever.” He’s not blushing, he tells himself. He’s not embarrassed right now. Definitely not. “Just know that our next goddamn date isn’t going to be such a disaster. I’m treating you right, dammit.”

“Next date?”

“Yeah. You are my crush after all. We’re going on all the dates we can until things go fucking perfectly.”