#Trans Izuku Midoriya | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

useless-fanfictions · 2 years ago

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Distraction | Transmasc Izuku

//ANGST//

TW: internalized transphobia, dysphoria, self hatred, (past and current) self harm, panic attack, mentions of past abuse/bullying,

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki/Midoryia Izuku Tags: hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, poor self-esteem issues, body dysphoria, other potentially triggering topics (full list of tags on Ao3) Summary: The one where Kirishima and Kaminari unknowingly trigger something harmful for Izuku Midoryia. Good thing his Kacchan is there when he needs him.

Read on Ao3

"Oh no way, I didn't know 'Izuku' was a nickname!" Kirishima says cheerily, getting Izuku's attention.

"What do you mean?" Denki asks, peering over the redhead's shoulder.

It was like watching a train wreck once Izuku's brain pieced the parts together. They had his student progress report; which had his student information like his ID number, his dorm room number, and his name. His legal name.

Not the one that he introduced himself as, not the one he chose but the one his mom did. When she'd been choosing for her daughter, not her son.

"Wait—" Izuku really tried to stop them, to reach forward and snatch the paper from their hands but his body remained frozen.

"Dude your full name sounds like a girl's name," Denki teases. His voice is light and the grin that stretches his mouth open is infectious.

To everyone else it is; just not Izuku.

Not Izuku who is in the process of being outed right now.

"I—" he stammers, tongue going numb with the dread he feels circulating his body instead of oxygen, probably because he's pretty sure he's forgotten how to breathe. How to take in the air he needs when his lungs feel like they are no longer organs but vacuum sealed bags.

He barely registers anyone or anything else going on except the two staring at the paper in Kirishima’s hands. He'd probably just grabbed it to innocently look at Izuku's progress, so it is his own fault for not keeping a better eye on the papers that have his legal information.

"What's going on?" A familiar voice comes up to them. It's Kacchan.

Izuku wraps his arms around his middle, hugging himself. He hasn't felt the need to do this in a while. It is a self-comfort, he used to do it a lot in middle school, and it is a way to hide himself and his body.

They didn't need to see it anyway. They didn't need to see the impression of his chest under his binder, they didn't need to see the trim of his waist, the curve of his hips; nor did they get to see the way his lower lip trembled in fear, so he bit down on it hard.

He's been passing enough for people to not suspect anything. He was able to meet all of these people and introduce himself as Izuku after waiting so long and now it was going to all come crashing in on itself. He doesn't even know anyone's stance on trans people; having never gotten the courage to actually ask.

His breathing picked up, the tightness restricting his chest forcing him into shorter breaths. His pulse felt like it was rushing right into his ears, making everything sound a little bit muffled.

"Dek- Izuku?"

Izuku flinches when Kacchan slides into his line of sight, standing right in front of him. Oh shit, he looks so concerned.

When Izuku glances behind him, he sees twin looks of confusion on the others' faces as well. Izuku hadn't realized that he'd been panicking so visibly.

"Hey man, we were just teasing. We didn't know—"

Izuku felt tears well up in his eyes and he knows he needs to get out of there. He reaches out, not standing that far away actually, and snatches the offending paper that started this all.

He can't help but gasp out, "there's a reason it's a girl's name. But it is not my name."

With that, he whips around and storms right out of the room. His legs carry him back to his own room while his fingers dig ruthlessly into the flesh on his arms. His nails, bitten sharp, cut the skin and the burning sensation works to clear his head a little.

He just needs to breathe.

Once behind his closed door, he drags his fingernails down his right arm while his other hand digs around for one of his big hoodies.

He doesn't always wear them, but they are effective when it comes to hiding his revolting body.

His arm stings but he finally wrenches the grey sweatshirt from the bottom of his dirty clothes hamper. It's nauseating, he's disgusting for wearing dirty clothes but he hasn't been able to do some laundry in a while.

While he's taking off his school uniform shirt, pointedly not facing the mirror hanging on the bathroom door, he tightens his binder. It is the type that clips on the side, he clips to the tightest setting.

It makes breathing even more difficult, he feels the constriction like constant pressure, but it makes him look flatter. When he looks down at his feet before slipping the hoodie on, he barely sees any sort of mass and that soothes a bit of the burning in his brain. Especially when he slips the sweatshirt on and his body practically disappears.

He still can't settle down, his mind too much of a flurry and his emotions too high-strung. He paces back and forth in his room, rethinking what had happened.

They'd just gotten their progress reports back, and when Izuku had gotten up to throw some junk papers away, Kirishima had been going around to see how everyone was doing. Izuku had even heard him say something about jumping up two whole ranks in the class so he wanted to see who elses' changed.

It was harmless. Kirishima doesn't even have a malicious bone in his body, Izuku is sure.

It was Izuku's job to keep track of his own things, and not leave them lying on his desk for just anyone to see (even if it was flipped over).

He is stupid! So stupid, how could get be so inattentive to something like this?

The burning in his brain and the panic in his lungs spike again, making it even more difficult to exist. They're all going to find out and he knows, he just knows that someone is going to not agree, to be so hateful as to call him the wrong name and misgender him. They're going to do it and then people are going to laugh at him again.

It's going to be middle school all over again.

Back then, right after he'd cut his hair short and asked to be called the new name, his classmates started to tease him. They would purposely misgender him, poke at his body (especially his chest), and say crude and terrible things to and about him. It was constant and abusive; he hated it so much.

Kacchan was the only person who never said anything. He didn't particularly stand up for Izuku, but he didn't participate either. They were at odd ends at that time, so Izuku never really expected him to. He was the only one who actually respected Izuku's gender at that point, Kacchan used his right name and pronouns before even his own mother did.

Kacchan has and always will be a lot of things, but thankfully he isn't a transphobe.

Izuku couldn't say the same for the rest of his current class. He just didn’t know them enough yet.

He can't go back to that... it was such a bad time for Izuku. He'd taken so much out on himself, body covered in the scars to prove it. He just can't; he's trying to be a hero for Christ's sake! Heroes don't do that to themselves...

But he's not a hero yet, the evil and ugly voice in the back of his head croons. It aches for him to pick up the habit again, to turn against his body more than his mind already has. Other than this moment, it's been rather quiet since the new school year started.

The last bit of his middle school and the little bit of summer that they got in between was spent bulking up and following All Might's instructions. He was training to gain the man's quirk, but oh boy did he like the way his body was changing. He'd also gotten on testosterone during those months, so his body weight placement changed and his voice dropped. For the first time in a long while he'd felt a bit better about his body.

Going into the new school, the only ones that knew his secret were Kacchan, All Might, and the school staff. His record had to have his legal name still, but he'd talked to all his teachers beforehand and they had all used the right pronouns and name.

Not until now, his new school life has been peaceful, easy. The only part that contradicted that was when they moved into the dorms, they weren't sure which side to put him and Izuku had begged and pleaded. He had to come in on his time off and he and his mother had to sign some extra confidentiality and consent forms, but other than that it had been smooth sailing. Izuku either waits until the locker room is empty or changes in the bathroom stalls. If any of the others have noticed it, they haven't said anything about it.

Now he wasn't so lucky to have such a peaceful mind.

He knows what it would take to soothe the ache, though. Hell, he'd already started by clawing at his arms. He might as well go all the way to numb his brain.

Down in the bottom of the drawer next to his bedside table, underneath random junk and manga books, lies a smooth little box with razor blades inside. Izuku pulls it out and his hand shakes a little, he sets it on the top of the table and starts to take his pants off. Doing it on his arms is too risky now, but almost never are his legs exposed.

He sits on the floor, legs set out in front of him and reaches for one of the blades.

Right as his fingers grip the metal, there is a knock on his door. It causes Izuku to freeze up.

Too much of his body is exposed, and he can't let anyone else know that he does this— Before his mind could panic further, there is a voice on the other side.

"Izuku?" It's Kacchan. "You okay, nerd?"

Izuku wraps his arms around his middle again, the blade pressing uncomfortably into his palm, and doesn't respond. Maybe he'll just go away if Izuku's lucky.

Turns out he's not.

"Izuku, I know you're in there. If you don't answer I'm coming in."

Izuku balks for a moment, scrambling to figure out what to say. "I'm-m okay!"

He doesn't hear anything in response for a moment and Izuku thinks it might have worked. But then the doorknob turns and Kacchan is suddenly there.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Izuku shouts, immediately curling his legs up and trying to hide himself from view. He is only in his underwear after all. "Get out!"

"I need to make sure you're okay..." Kacchan's observant and sharp eyes look over the boy in front of him. Izuku bites his lip when he watches his gaze lock onto something next to him, on the table.

It's the open box of blades.

"...which you obviously aren't." His voice is soft and reserved, eyebrows tilted down as he closes the door behind him and approaches Izuku like he would a little animal that is easily spooked. "You haven't done that again, have you?"

Oh, right. He forgot Kacchan knew about his dirty little habit. He'd broken down one day a year or so ago and told Kacchan he'd never be able to hurt him any more than Izuku had hurt himself already. Guess the blonde was smart enough to fill in the blanks from there.

"No," Izuku’s voice is small, barely a whisper.

Kacchan walks slowly closer and closer, he kneels down next to Izuku. They aren't touching, but his presence is comforting.

"But you were going to, weren't you?" That same quiet tone that is strict enough to leave no room for bullshit but full of enough solace to not be startling.

Izuku, too full of shame to speak, simply nods his head.

"Can I have your items please?"

At first, Izuku doesn't move. He doesn't want to give over his blades because then he won't have a way to do what he needs to. His brain was already clouding again with the nastiness he feels towards himself, completely shrouding the logical part of him.

He needs the ache on his body, the tear of his flesh, and the sense of numbness that invades every inch of his being every time he gives in. He needs it. Kacchan can't take that away from him.

"Izuku, please," he whispers, eyes shining at him when Izuku finally braves a look at the blond's face.

Izuku is frozen, still hugging his legs to his chest and squeezing the one blade in his hand. He looks away, down at the floor in front of him. He can't, he can't, he can't—

Kacchan slowly, still acting like fast movements could spook Izuku even more (which was probable while in his current state of mind), and reaches over to the table to snatch the box.

"Is this all of them?" he asks after taking a quick glance inside before clicking it shut.

Izuku doesn't answer again, his silence telling.

"Izuku," his voice still quiet but his tone stern. "Give it."

He can't fight him, he can't do anything but cave. He unfurls his hand, brining it out and away from his body. There are little pinpricks of blood in his palm but Izuku can't really feel that pain. He needs more of it anyway.

There is a part of him, the nasty and clouded part, that can't help but rear its head up a little to spite Kacchan's care. He whispers, voice emotionless and tired sounding, "I'll just find something else to use."

"Mhm," Kacchan hums, dropping the last blade into the box and pocketing it himself.

Izuku's eyes track the movement closely.

Then he is speaking again, "not if I don't let you."

Izuku just shrugs, again with minimal effort. Kacchan's presence has slowed down his panic, but now the crippling weight of his fatigue hits him tenfold. He doesn't have the energy to continue this conversation. It is much too early to sleep, but he definitely doesn’t want to do anything even remotely productive today. He powers through anyway. "What are you going to do, stay here all night?"

Kacchan's response is immediate. "Yes, if I have to."

Izuku's eyes widen. Kacchan? In his room? All night? That hasn’t happened since they were really little.

Not only would that be against the school rules, they have a curfew for a reason, but that would also be breaking some of the additional agreements he'd signed to be allowed on the boys' side of the dorms.

There is a large part that doesn't actually care enough about any of that. The part that aches for any scrap of comfort he can get.

"You can't," he tries anyway. He is scared of how disastrous it would be if he broke his agreement, if they forced him into the girls’ dorms…

"I don't care." Kacchan stands up and stretches a little, doing a full circle and looking around his room real quick. Then he turns back to Izuku after the sweep and asks, "do you have anything else in here that you could use?"

Izuku shakes his head honestly. His blades are his preference anyway, that and his nails he supposes. But those won't do nearly enough like he wants. So yes, his answer is honest.

"Okay good, I will be right back. You better not lock that door behind me, Izuku, or I swear I will blast it down."

His tone was bordering on terrifying, so Izuku just nods and promises not to move.

Kacchan nods his head one more time, glancing back at Izuku as he closes the door behind him, and then disappears into the hallway.

So Izuku is just left alone with his thoughts. Which hasn’t been as good as of lately.

He lets his legs fall back down onto the ground, cursing the way his thighs jiggle as they settle. He doesn’t have as much of an issue with the fat on his body as he does with how feminine it looks. He absent-mindedly traces the old lines on his legs, still aching to fulfill the darkest parts of his brain.

All of this isn’t something new to Izuku, he’s been harboring this amount of self-loathing for as long as he’s been conscious it feels like. It’s only been a couple of years since he’s known why though; having that gender identity crisis was definitely fun. A lot of pieces fell into place once that realization settled.

Kacchan was the first he told. Their middle school lives had always been turbulent, that much was obvious, but they were still closer than most people. Yes, Kacchan told him the meanest of things about his lack of a quirk, but when it came to his gender or his mental illness, Kacchan strangely listened.

He remembers the day that he told Kacchan, they were just entering middle school then. Kacchan had tossed him into a wall and taunted him with something about crying like a little girl. And Izuku had just told him to stop calling him that, to stop calling him a girl because that’s not what he is. Kacchan just understood, they shared a moment.

“How did Auntie react?” he’d asked, voice getting quieter. They were standing in an alleyway on the way home, away from anyone’s prying eyes and ears.

Izuku’s lower lip wobbled and he just shakes his head. Inko had been very resistant at first… but that is definitely something that he shouldn’t dwell on at the moment, not when he’s already having a low.

As dangerous as that is that Kacchan left him alone, it isn't for very long.

In under five minutes, Kacchan is back and has changed out of his school uniform, and has his backpack slung over a shoulder.

Izuku, still sitting on the floor but now with his legs crossed like a pretzel, watches as the blond sets his bag down with a huff and looks around the room, hands on his hips casually. The sight of it isn’t an unwelcomed or new one, but it is still a little awe-inspiring: even with their newly patched relationship, Izuku never thought that Kacchan would be the one to comfort him this intimately.

He asks timidly, "wha'cha bring?"

Kacchan looks down at his discarded bag and then back at Izuku, "some homework I was planning on doing this afternoon, an extra pair of underwear, my toothbrush, deodorant, and my Switch."

Izuku nods, a little absent-mindedly, and asks another question that is a tad more nerve-wracking. "You really did bring overnight stuff?"

As soon as the question is out, his hand drags up to his mouth to pick anxiously at his lower lip, the skin is cracked and peeling already from how often he chews on it.

"I'm prepared to be here for as long as you need..." he looks away while he says it, but Izuku doesn't miss the way his ears seem a little brighter with an embarrassed blood blush.

"Oh..." Izuku looks down shyly for a moment. He wiggles his toes just for something to distract him so he isn't staring at the scars on his thighs. His legs are hairy, and it no longer looks so thin and light and feminine looking like when he first stopped shaving. Being on testosterone for quite a few months will do that.

But still, Izuku sees the way his toes point and the shape of his thick thighs (even with the redistribution of fat in his body) his legs still look feminine to him. Especially tonight when he is experiencing such a low. He hates it.

He closes his eyes and sighs, wanting more than anything to just not have to see any part of his own body at all. It's too repulsive. He's not even sure why Kacchan keeps looking at him.

"You oka—"

"Can we just do something?" Izuku interrupts, carefully cutting off the blond's question so he doesn't have to answer him. He knows that if he doesn’t focus on something else then he will only continue to sink lower and lower. "Maybe not homework, but something, anything else. I don't want to think or look at my disgusting body, I need a distraction.” He ends his little speech with a huff and he rests his forehead on his knees, eyes still shut tightly.

"Your body isn't disgusting."

Izuku folds in on himself. Oh how wrong you are, Kacchan, he thinks mercilessly. He knows that no matter what the other boy says now, Izuku will never not see his own body as an ugly prison of flesh and bones; something he is trapped in and no matter how he alters it there will always be someone somewhere to remind him that he is nothing but a freak; he will never be normal.

“Izuku…” his voice is closer. Izuku can hear his knees pop when he crouches down. It isn’t a second later that there is a soft but hesitant touch on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Kacchan,” he whispers, still unmoving and with tears dripping through the creases of his closed eyelids. He is pathetic and crying again, his emotions always getting the best of him like some whiny girl.

A girl. Fuck.

“No, it’s not. Do you just wanna play some games?” Kacchan tries again. When he doesn’t get an immediate no for an answer he pushes on. “Come on, let’s get up on the bed and we’ll play something.”

Izuku is reluctant, but only because he is trying to hide his tears. Kacchan, who is gentle yet forceful (which is exactly what Izuku needs), picks his face up and wipes the tears off of Izuku’s cheeks himself.

The move is so comforting and it efficiently knocks down all of the walls he’d been trying to put up. He tries not to think about why Kacchan is so good at getting into his head. Instead, he just lets the blond hold his face and he stares back at him with watery eyes.

With those walls now demolished, he lets the bad thoughts slip out: “do I look like a girl to you?”

Kacchan’s answering smile is immediate, “of course not.”

Izuku drops his face more into his warm palms and the thumb of Kacchan’s right hand brushes softly across his cheek again, but it is useless because the tears are still falling. They fall faster than he can wipe them away, Izuku can’t help that he is such a bad crier.

“Come on,” Kacchan speaks tenderly, “up on the bed.”

Izuku picks himself up, Kacchan stepping back to give him room to do so, and they both transition to the bed after he stops to dig his gaming system out of his backpack.

At first, Izuku wonders if they are just going to sit side-by-side and play on his gaming console (which they absolutely have before), but then Kacchan reclines against the headboard, propping himself up on Izuku’s pillows, and opens his arms. Izuku just stops and stares, still standing in just his hoodie and boxers.

“Is-is this okay?” Kacchan asks, arms drooping in self-doubt. They always respond to each other’s emotions and sentiments quicker than with anyone else’s.

“Yeah— are you okay with it?” Izuku shoots back, nervousness dripping from his entire being. They have sat close together in the past, their relationship patched a lot since their middle school days, but never have they cuddled so… close… before, certainly never anything like this.

Kacchan’s face drops the worry and the start of what looks like a potential smile. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”

Izuku steps up to the edge of the bed and sets a knee down, still very nervous. He doesn’t know what to do or where to put any part of his body. There is a part of him that is excited though: cuddles with Kacchan? Hell yeah!

And like the vicious cycle it is, his mind tricks itself into flipping it back around with the ugly thought of in order to cuddle him, he will have to touch your gross body.

It has him stopping cold.

“What—” Of course he caught on, Izuku’s face and posture broadcast all of his emotions like a movie screen. Especially his eyes, he can’t hide anything.

“Are you sure that you’re sure, I don’t want you to have to feel—”

Kacchan rolls his eyes, the act playful, and reaches forward to grab his arm. As Izuku is being yanked forward, he hears, “yes, dumb nerd. As sappy as this shit sounds, I want to cuddle you so c’mere.”

Izuku laughs at the display and the teasing tone, not exactly registering what was said until he is settling his back against Kacchan’s chest. His mood spikes again, for the first time since it had originally tanked, he feels something akin to jittery. It has his heart beating quicker and his stomach a mess of butterflies. He blurts out, “wait what?”

“Don’t think too hard on that one,” Kacchan mutters, arms wrapping around Izuku’s side, forcing him to face forward again to avoid the conversation.

He has his Switch in his hand and he shifts enough so that he can hold onto both sides of the joycons that are attached to the system with Izuku sitting in front of him. He has the home screen loaded up and Izuku sees the last few games he’s been playing. He has a couple of the main games and a few smaller, more unknown games

Izuku watches him carefully as he slides over to the console’s full game library and leans his mouth down to Izuku’s ear to ask him, “so what do you want to play?”

Izuku does not own a Switch, he never has before. He grew up in a two-bedroom apartment with his mother and they relied solely on her income. He didn’t grow up with enough money to afford a gaming console like this. Which he is fine with, he knows his mother tries her very best to give what she can to her son and he will be forever grateful for that. Even now that he is making his own money working at his work-study, he hasn’t had the time to consider going out and buying his own.

All of that being said, Izuku still knows a ton of the mainstream games from the online presence and from the very one in front of him. Kacchan lets him play his Switch enough to know what all of the games are that he has on there, and yet, every time he needs to just mellow out he chooses the same game every time:

“Animal Crossing?” Izuku asks apprehensively, as if this will be the time that he is told no.

“Yeah, sure, we can check up on our island,” he says so casually, flicking over to the game and loading it up.

Our island. Izuku sighs and leans back harder against the boy behind him, resting his head on his collarbone. The warmth of Kacchan is everywhere, wrapped around him and unknowingly cradling the raw parts of his brain that Izuku wishes he didn’t have to carry around. Just his very existence soothes the ache from the sharp edges that Izuku has pointed toward himself. Kacchan doesn’t have to do anything except be there and Izuku doesn’t let that go unappreciated.

He hums softly when he is asked if he is comfortable.

Kacchan doesn’t ask if he is okay for the rest of the night because he knows what the answer will be. He doesn’t ask Izuku about any of the bad things that he thought about today. Instead, they played Animal Crossing for a little while (Izuku’s favorite villager in the game is Marshall because he reminds him of Kacchan). Then moved on to Mario Kart which they took turns on, and Izuku definitely played fair and didn’t mess with the buttons and screen while it was Kacchan’s turn.

After they get a little sick of the games, they do manage to work on their homework; both of them being in the higher ranks of their class for a reason. For this, they separate so that Izuku can use his desk and Kacchan stays on the bed.

When it came to food, Kacchan left again while Izuku played some more games and waited for him to bring up two containers of food.

At the end of the night is when both of them got a little awkward. Sleeping arrangements weren’t something that Izuku had thought of a ton while they hung out for the night, but ultimately Kacchan decided that the floor would be good enough and if Izuku ever needed anything he was right there to wake.

Even though Izuku felt significantly colder than he’d been during the cuddling, he was still reassured that nothing bad was going to happen with the boy sleeping on his floor so close by.

“Good night, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered.

A sigh that Izuku plainly heard the smile through, “‘Night, Nerd.”

Author's Note:

Thank you so much for reading! All comments and kudos are appreciated {♥‿♥} Remember, be safe and patient with yourself. No matter who you are or what your body looks like, you are loved and need to respect the body you exist in. Writing is a way that I vent and this is a product of some negative emotions that I have been feeling, so here is this! That being said, please be cautious when reading fics like this.

Hope you are having a good night/day!

19 notes · View notes

meltedheartz · 9 months ago

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thinking about ftm!reader and mean!izuku who thinks it's so cute how they just can't defend themselves against him :((

tw : college!au, dub-con, condescension, mild bullying (in a way), chubby reader, reader wears glasses, reader's a bit of a loser, dacryphilia, creampie, no protection (don't be silly, wrap that willy!), mating press, izuku's a whore for reader, praise and petnames, don't care how big you are cuz izu's bigger, gn pronouns used :3

word count : wrote this on a whim, so i honestly don't know..

it starts when you accidentally bump into him, stumbling back yet he was barely even startled. you apologize profusely, and izuku just waves you off at first.

you think it's rude, before rushing off to wherever you were trying to get too—forgetting about it.

but izuku spots you around that coffee shop near the campus, sees you in the hallways with books nearly stumbling from your arms, watches as you take notes as the professor speaks.

a couple of people whisper about you, how you never bother speaking to anyone, and how nervous you seem when someone approaches you.

it's like cornering a bunny, izuku thinks when he decides to speak to you.

well, it's more like being passive aggressive than actually conversing.

"wow, you're soo smart. you must be real fun to be around, huh? your voice is really high pitched, are you sure you're alright?"

you tell him to stop being a dickhead, if he doesn't wanna be around, he doesn't have to be. izuku waves you off and laughs, says you're like a startled animal that thinks it's intimidating, and it makes you frown.

"you're an ass," you poke at his chest, before picking up your bag and adjusting your glasses.

"hm? where are you going?" izuku pointedly ignores your insult, but it feels more ticklish than insulting or hurtful.

you ignore him right back, attempting to storm out of his dorm room. of all the people you get to work with, you get paired with him. it's annoying—more an inconvenience, than anything.

izuku watches as tears well up behind those clear rims you wear, sees the furrow in your eyebrow and nearly laughs at it, wants to call you a crybaby for it; just like everyone used to do to him.

he can sort of see why they did it, and when it comes down to someone as soft and quiet as you, it's nearly impossible to resist.

"we're not done with either of our parts. you don't need help on yours?"

when you don't answer, izuku takes it upon himself to grab you hard enough to stop you, but not enough to hurt. it causes a slight discomfort, makes your breathing stutter a bit as you sniffle and try to pull away—but you physically can't.

izuku speaks again, looming over you with a small scowl. "why are you ignoring me? i thought you wanted to get this done, what happened to that?"

you just wanna slap him for asking that. he knows the answer — knows exactly what he did wrong and why you got fed up.

"let go of me. i'll work on my part by myself, dickweed."

"nuh-uh, that's not fair to either of us, is it?" izuku coos, grabbing your bag for you and tossing it onto the futon he has sitting just a little bit away.

you sniffle again, more tears welling up and threatening to tip over and down onto your chubby cheeks, and you can't even wipe them away cuz you're arguing with such an asshole.

you seem so frustrated and angered, but he knows that instead of yelling, you cry. it's pathetic, makes him wanna bite your cute face and boop your nose just to see you sniffle some more.

"you mad at me?" izuku asks, tugging you back into the small apartment that you stupidly decided to visit to get your joint assignment done.

"this is stupid — let me go, midoriya." he frowns at that, his grip loosening just a bit before it tightens again.

he clicks his tongue and drags you right back to his room, with all the superhero posters and expensive collectors items that can't be found anywhere else.

izuku sits you down but doesn't let you go—hasn't let go of your arm since he got a hold of it. "what happened to calling me by my name?"

"that is your name," you snark back. you watch as his eyes narrow a bit and he makes his way on to the bed, looming over you.

you feel.. small. it's not like you were ever bigger than him, he goes to the gym more times a week than you can keep track of and is over 6'0" — of course you aren't bigger than him.

"don't get smart with me honey. you know you don't wanna do that." izuku sighs and makes you lay down, and you feel your heartbeat speed up as your eyes widen.

you struggle and squirm, but he just smiles and puts more of his weight on you, making it near impossible to even move.

"m-midoriya—"

"izuku. say it," he breathes out, tucking his face into the crook of your neck almost forcefully.

he hears you hiccup, sees as the tears flow over and how your eyes get all glassy—all doe-eyed and he laughs.

"izuku, get off me—" you try to move again, you feel the grip around your wrist tighten more and it feels more and more uncomfortable as it does.

"i love you. you're so cute, what would you have done if it was someone else on top of you? hm?" izuku raises his head to look at you, and feels bad.

feels that guilt of actually making you cry, seeing how scared you are of him. "ah-ah, shh. i'm sorry. i didn't mean to make you upset, okay?"

that doesn't make the tears stop, but izuku thinks it's fine. the apology sounds genuine—more genuine than the usual sarcastic 'sorry' he gives you, more genuine than the mean laughs he gives you after making you throw a crumbled paper ball at him.

"i hate you, you're s-so mean," you hiss, wanting to kick and scream at him.

you feel the hold he has on your wrists loosen, but he doesn't let go entirely. but it's more than enough for you to wriggle free.

izuku smiles again, "i know. i know, 'm sorry."

the words that leave his mouth make you hiccup and stare at him, the typical scowl you always give izuku on your lips.

"you never show that you're actually sorry." you sniffle, and have to move to wipe the onslaught of tears the stumble down your pretty face.

izuku pauses when you say that, eyes grazing over your face before he lights up.

"how about i prove it, would that make you feel better?"

"s-slow down—"

"mgh—s-sorry," izuku gasps, but doesn't make any move to slow down, hips stuttering into yours as he watches you shake and clutch at the sheets.

it's been a little over thirty minutes, you think, but you're not sure. it's not like you can think when you can feel izuku's pretty cock all the way in your tummy—making sure you know he's actually sorry.

he spent all his time before this slurping at your pretty cunt, fingering you to completion as he sucked at your cute clit and made sure you felt good.

even now, izuku was trying to make sure you felt as good as you possibly could with him, watching your eyes roll back with every thrust into you.

"love you s'much, soo soft n pretty-" izuku whines, kissing you all sloppily yet so lovingly.

it makes you clench up around him, trying to close your legs but you jus can't because of the mean mating press he has you in.

"such a good boy for me, yeah?" the words paired with his dick stirring up your guts make you wail.

it's almost too much, but it's not enough as you cream around his cock—a milky white ring forming at the base of it as he pants and gasps right next to your ear.

he pounds a little faster—a little harder before his thrusts get sloppier and nearly lose rhythm. you can barely see his face without your glasses and the tears blurring your vision further.

but izuku makes sure that you can hear him good and well as he moans and whines, feeling the blunt tip press against your cervix as though it never wants to leave.

"shit, shit— 'm cumming," he gives short little thrusts as he does, cumming harder than he has in months just knowing that he finally has you.

you're both sweaty and you feel a little icky, embarrassed at all the crying you did. izuku kisses you—softer than he did before, wiping some hair from your face as he does.

"love you." izuku mutters. he doesn't care if you don't say it back, just as long as you know he loved you at the very least.

"i love you too."

A/N ; i haven't written smut or anything in MONTHS. i hope this is good in some parts, it's very rushed and not well thought outt :((

b4 anyone asks, minors are allowed to interact with my account. i don't care, as long as you aren't under 15. i fully understand that you guys have hormones, and the "minors dni" thing is straight bullshit to me. luv you guys, i will be making an account intro, but it won't be anytime soon cuz i'm lazy.. ＼(≧▽≦)／

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