Random Various Chars X Reader

Izuku Deku X Reader ( Stronger Than Any Quirk )

Izuku Deku X Reader ( Stronger Than Any Quirk ) 

It was late, just past sunset, and the training grounds had emptied out, save for the two of us. The sky had melted into lilac and deep gold, and the leftover warmth of the day clung to the concrete beneath our feet. I leaned back against the railing, watching the way the fading light caught in his curls. He looked nervous.

"Izuku?" I asked softly.

He looked up as though I'd broken his thoughts. "Oh—sorry. Just thinking." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"About today's training?" I tilted my head, trying to ease whatever weight he was carrying.

He shook his head. "No. About you."

That made my heartbeat stutter.

"I've been trying to say something all week." He started to pace a little, hands fidgeting with the strap of his notebook. "Actually, longer than that. Maybe since the Sports Festival. Or maybe even before that, back when we first spoke and you remembered every detail of my quirk even though no one else did." He glanced at me shyly. "That kind of stuck."

I smiled, heart fluttering. "Izuku..."

He took a deep breath and stepped closer. Close enough that I could see the constellation of freckles across his cheeks, even in the dim light.

"I watch you sometimes. Not in a weird way, I promise!" he rushed, flustered. "Just—when you're sparring, or helping others, or smiling at something that isn't even funny. You make me feel like... like I can breathe, even when things are heavy."

I didn't realize I was holding my breath until he gently reached for my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

"Everyone tells me I need to be strong. That I'm the next symbol. But when I'm with you, I don't feel like I need to prove anything." His eyes met mine, steady and warm. "You're the strongest part of my heart."

My throat tightened.

"I like you," he said, voice barely above a whisper now. "No—not just like. I love you. And I've wanted to tell you for so long, but I didn't know if you—"

I leaned forward before he could finish, pressing my forehead gently to his.

"I love you too, Izuku."

He froze for a second, eyes wide and startled—then his whole face bloomed into a smile so bright it could rival the rising stars.

We stood there, wrapped in that quiet evening warmth, the world hushed except for the steady beat of two hearts finally in sync.

I'm so glad you're feeling the story—this ship is sailing strong 🌊💚 Let's carry this warmth forward with a continuation that's slower, softer, and sealed with a kiss that was definitely worth the wait. Ready?

Time moved strangely after his confession. Like the minutes stretched thin around us, slow and tender. Izuku hadn't stopped smiling, even as his grip tightened around my hand—like he was afraid letting go would undo everything we'd just shared.

We didn't speak as we walked back toward the dorms. But the silence wasn't awkward—it was steady and full of promise. Every brush of his shoulder against mine felt intentional. Meaningful. Like we were both learning how to be close without words.

Halfway there, he paused.

"Hey," he said. His voice was breathy, unsure. "Could we stay here? Just for a little longer?"

The gravel beneath our feet crunched gently as we stepped off the path, settling under a tall tree whose branches stretched wide like protective arms. Fireflies had begun their slow dance around us, blinking in quiet celebration.

Izuku sat down first, tugging me gently to join him. He leaned back against the trunk, eyes cast upward—but every few seconds, they'd flick toward me like he couldn't help it.

"I've wanted to kiss you for so long," he said finally. "But I didn't know if it would be okay."

I turned my head toward him slowly. "It's okay."

He didn't move instantly. He breathed through it. Just like he does when he's on the edge of a fight—calculated, respectful, careful. His hand reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. That was when I saw it: not just affection in his eyes, but awe. Like he was looking at someone he'd dreamed of, and couldn't believe he'd been allowed to get this close.

"I'm not perfect," he whispered. "But I swear I'll never stop trying to be someone who deserves this moment."

He leaned in. Slow. As if the kiss was something sacred.

When his lips met mine, it was soft—hesitant—then deeper, as if he'd finally let go of every doubt. His fingers tangled gently in mine, grounding us both. And when we pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine again. Smiling. Breathless.

"I think this might be the start of my favorite story," he said.