#bnha writing

[heich0e]

shouto always facetimes you when he's wearing a suit even if he has nothing to actually say, so one afternoon when you answer his incoming call and are greeted by the sight of his buttoned-down and lapelled chest, your face immediately feels hot.

"shouto?" you ask, your voice infuriatingly flustered even though you had tried your very best to choke it back. "what's up?"

and then he tilts the camera back up to its usual position—a little too high, so really it's just the bridge of his nose, his eyes, and the top of his head left at the very bottom of the screen. and simply he goes: "i'm wearing a suit."

"i can see that," you reply, resisting the urge to drag your hand down your face—equal parts frustrated and horrifically endeared to your boyfriend's familiar antics. "is that the reason you called?"

"i know you like when i wear them so i wanted to call and show you."

[sweet-honey-tears]

Just Turn it Down

dad!Aizawa x biological!GN!Reader FAMILY FLUFF!!!!!

…. I’m so sorry for how long this took… I hope you like it🖤🤍🥺 and thank you for your amazing request!!! -🍯

WARNING: None, cute stuff. Possible gender mix ups, when I write a draft, I write in fem tense (she,her,ect) and then go back and fix it after- but I’m sick so may have missed a few. I’m incredibly sorry.

To say it was a surprise to the world would be an understatement. The scary, hard-headed, slouched teacher of AU had a kid—an actual, biological child. It was no surprise that Aizawa would keep it under wraps. Your safety and his patience could easily be strained.

“Who is the mother?”

“Was it a Fling?”

“Did the Pro-Hero Eraser Head hook up with…”

The world got its answers; with it, you got your silence. “My mother is dead. Died in childbirth, I’d like to be left alone now.” It was a blatant lie, and when Hizashi asked you why, trying his best to understand, his tall frame slumped slightly as he rubbed the back of his head, you answered, “Because she is.” The subject was never brought up again.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

While not your biological siblings, Eri and Shinso have been part of your family since they stepped through the door. Shinso, who was older than you, had offered advice more than once on subjects such as schools, relationships, and your future career. The world is aware of your future decisions, another blunt shut-down.

“Do you wanna be just like your father? A hero”

You glanced at your dad off to the side, his arms crossed yet still tense. Ready to pull you back the minute they ask a question that crosses the line. Aizawa smiled slightly, ever so suddenly that only you caught it. Then, there was an ever so slight nod.

“No.”

Shinso supports you fully; he always feels the public backlash of his decisions due to his quirks. Villain, villain, villain. He’d prove them wrong. But that didn't stop his anger when his mind bounced to the idea of you being put through assaults. You can manipulate living organisms. Specifically, increasing the size of plants and controlling movement. As always, with their lack of space, the press managed to grab photos of you using the quirk. Your sweet smile as you lean over some old lady's rose bush, the spiked vines climbing up to reach your fingers as soft pink flowers open. According to you, it had been stepped on and crushed under some careless foot, and you just wanted to fix it. Yet that story would be too sweet. The public zoomed in on the aspect that you could grow thorns! What if you decided to covered the town in poison ivy?! You huffed at the so called fears written in the paper.

“I wouldn't play their game, so now I need to be their villain.”

Your quirk explicitly comes from your mother's side to your disgust. Thou Aizawa couldn't care less about the quirk; he wouldn't care if you were quirkless, something he’s said more than once. However, he felt the slightest bit of glee as he watched you quiet the loud blonde in his class. It wasn’t your fault; he wanted to spar, and you did. Thou, you slightly regretted your decision as you watched the problem child, as your dad called him, scribble furiously down his journal.

You don't go to UA, a choice that sometimes stresses Aizawa. Yet, considering the recent events with this group of students, it now seemed like a safer choice, ironically. But when you do go to UA, for whatever reason, it feels like another home. Surrounded by the many staff and heroes that raised you, taking you on days, Aizawa had patrol. AllMight, in his uncle-like glory, yelled:

“Ah Young Y/n, how tall you’ve grown!”

This caused all students to stop and look at the one kid who was not in uniform. You’re as much their daughter as you are, Aizawa. Your hair getting ruffled, cheeks pinched, comments how beautiful you’ve become. Midnight, despite what the media says, and Rumi

have been wonderful mother figures throughout your life. Aizawa, as great a father as he is, knows when to throw his hands up for your comfort and sometimes his. You tell the two women secrets, crushes, and heartbreakers, and they keep it locked up, never spilling the information on even Aizawa.

Your little sister, Eri, clings to you like a koala and you her, pulling you to a point where your spine is more of a bridge than a body part, just so she can whisper you a secret or happily show you the family photo she drew in class, with you, Shinso, and Aizawa all drawn with wide smiles, stick hands holding stick hands.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You blame Shinso for your music taste because if you admitted that Bakugou was the one to introduce, you think your father would get his motto tattooed onto you. “Stay away from loud blondes.” But you couldn't help it. Scene Queen seemed to attach to every cell of your body. The loud, angry music about worth and the media seeing comforting as you watched the world around you. There is so much pain, so many big problems, and yet some so small and meaningless, silly almost. These are easy ones to fix if people just agree. Maybe the same could be said for the argument of where Villains came from; the same ones you watch hurt your family, but the thought feels so sickening. So switch to another artist, the screaming, feeding, and subduing the boiling anger that lingers in your chest due to the media. You were getting ripped apart by the bloodhounds for not giving them the bloody steak they required, so instead, they chose you. You're a small, converted life forced to be nailed and screwed since you wouldn’t play their games.

Your finger mindlessly tapped to the next artist, pondering slightly if your hearing will be gone when you reach your 20s due to Metalica. Your fingers lightly drum on the page, your body unconsciously moving to the beat of the song that blasted too loud in your headphones. To be stuck in your own world and notice your dad walking past you, peering over the couch to see what you were doing. Aizawa paused; the screeching music from your headphones sounded all too familiar. With little hesitation, he reached down and grabbed one of the earpieces, listening for the split moment he had before the music paused. It was clear he startled you from the way you jumped and whipped around.

“Dad!”

“(Enter favorite metal band)?”

You paused, searching his face for something you weren't really sure of. ”Uh Yeah… Shinso introduced me to them.”

Aizawa smiled a bit, handing you back the headphones. “The band came out when I was in UQ,” He huffed, watching your surprised face. “Mike was very much into them and even met the band.” He watched the excitement in your face take over. He’d need to call Hizashi and tell him the radio hero would be over the moon. “They’re from (Enter Country), I believe.” He leaned against the couch.

“Yeah they did!” Azawia paused, about to speak again, when his phone rang, the screeching sound leading from the kitchen; it was UA; you both knew it. He sighed, looking back at you, smiling slightly. “Just listen to them at a lower volume.” He ruffled your hair before leaving to get his phone.

He left and was gone the rest of the day, some issue on the campus. Damn problem children. And when you came home from school, he still wasn’t there. But sitting on the kitchen counter,rested a small keychain of the band of the bands logo.

[littlebnha]

🐦‍⬛ It was an unintentional discovery. You'd been searching for a snack when you first heard the noise and at first, you thought it had been someone tapping on a table until you remembered that it was the weekend and most of class 1-A were out doing their own thing leaving just a rare few so you ignored it thinking you had simply knocked something down in a cupboard until it happened again this time longer a bit louder and accompanied by chirping? 

you walked out of the kitchen socked feet moving you into the shared area that was not the sound of something glass tipping or a bag of chips shifting. It was unprompted organic made by something living and the strange thing was that you were positive that you had heard it before and as you rounded the couches looking around you heard it again...coming from Tokoyami. 

He was sleeping soundly a pillow tucked under his chin as he lay sprawled on the couch you were sure that the sun had lulled him into an afternoon nap one so good he was chirping in his sleep and the sight was enough to make you want to squeal at how adorable it was though you didn't dare make a sound. However, there was no way you were going to let an opportunity like this pass you by. 

That is why when your stomach dared to betray you by letting out the most embarrassing growl ever heard Tokoyami awoke to see you his classmate (and crush) crouched in front of him with a phone the soft sound of a camera shutters the only other sound in the room. 

"It's not what it looks like."

[gardenofnoah]

“Does it bother you?”

A blond head turns toward you in your peripheral. The next turn is a tilt slightly to the right, and it makes you smile. You’d never tell Katsuki, but he does have the mannerisms of a golden retriever.

Or maybe a well-trained doberman.

“That I can’t,” you pause, trying to find the most lighthearted term for the heaviest feeling in your heart. “Be touched. Right now.”

The ‘right now’ is unnecessary and dishonest, but your brain clings to temporary reasoning to make it feel better. You don’t know for whom.

He scoffs. It’s abrasive as he always is, and it dissipates a little of the tension you feel. You expect him to leave it at that, but he doesn’t.

“M’not—” he pauses, perhaps thinking of a kind way to say a hard thing, too. “I just want…to be here. With you.”

He goes red before he even finishes the sentence and it’s so unlike him that you bark out a laugh before you can stop it. The urge to put you in a headlock is so clear on his face but, ever mindful of your boundaries, he sticks to half heartedly nailing you in the face with the nearest pillow. He drags a palm down his own and pointedly looks away from you, eyes narrowing with each giggle that slips from you.

The meaning is not lost on you, though. Katsuki is not a man of many graceful words but you hear him anyway—I just need you here. I want nothing but you next to me.

It’s hard to remember that. Katsuki’s a good man, but he’s a man all the same, and sometimes your own fear of disappointing him—the fear that what you could offer with your body could not possibly be more meaningful than anything else you bring to the table—supersedes the safety you need to feel with him. How sad, that you’ve been so well programmed—how often you need the reassurance that you deserve to be treated with basic dignity, even when you have nothing to wager for it.

His vulnerability makes your heart swell in your chest. You reach across the bedspread—fingertips stopping just short of his, all you can do right now. You hope he understands, and you know that he does.

“I love you,” you tell him, needing him to know.

He hums, low in his throat. When his eyes meet yours, he’s open, for a moment. It’s hard for him, too—a different kind of vulnerability that he’s working on.

It takes only another moment for his shield to come back up, and then he’s rolling his eyes, scoffing out some half-hearted quip that he doesn’t mean.

You hear what he wants to say anyway.

[sh1-n0bu]

tumblr fanfics writers, attention please

a few weeks ago, an incident where a user on wattpad had copy pasted so many tumblr authors’ works onto wattpad without their permission has been brought to light thank to @dvlboy reaching out to me. my mutual @st4rrth0ughts had made a call out post/warning post as well about this incident. the authors who had their fics stolen and cross-posted have all (at least, 90% of them) have been notified and tagged and thankfully, we all managed to get the wattpad user to delete the books and their account.

however, this accident has made me paranoid and i decided to wonder through the ‘tumblr’ tag on wattpad and have come across a few suspicious books that had its first page ‘warning’ readers that the fics weren’t theirs and that all credit goes to the authors. the ohmyjung accident had the same first page warning and i decided to reach out to some of the authors and thankfully two of them had answered. the authors never gave permission to cross post their works onto wattpad by someone else, even with the wattpad user’s so called ‘credit’.

[the first ss is between me and my mutual. we decided to reach out to the authors of different books. the second is the answer my mutual got. the 3rd and 4th pictures are of the wattpad user who made a book from cross-posting without permission and the conversation i had with the OG fanfic author is afterwards. same with 6, 7 and 8th pictures]

in this post, i’ll be tagging the authors from the three books who got their fanfics cross-posted without their consent/stolen. i will make another post soon tagging authors from two other books. if i get the username wrong or the tumblr user had moved to a different blog, please let me know.

authors whose works were stolen and posted by Vampireblackwolf452:

@kookiecrumb @sodium

authors whose works were stolen and posted by P-XSSY:

@duskamethyst @okotsuu @bitterlavenderwritings @oi-levi @lilevixen @simpforsadbois @kiwitooth @kaeyatic @jhnyluvr24 @fatuifucker @hypnxticvxlentine @cybersano @audreys-works @gojosprettyslut

[cupofmiko]

WHEN IT FEELS RIGHT - midoriya izuku x f!reader 

five times you fall for midoriya izuku.

genre: friends to lovers au, pro hero au | fluff, smut 

warnings: aged up characters, you are a U.A. general studies graduate, Deku is taller than you idc, Ochako is a good friend <3, minor violence, making out, dry humping, smut at the end! SMUT: car sex, izuku using “good girl” and “pretty girl” because i have a problem, some soft dom!deku, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 9k 

a/n: 2023 traci has returned as an izuku simp. In the past year, i feel like i have turned over every stone and have read every izuku fic i could get my hands on - so i decided to add a stone of my own.

1. 

As soon as you answer the phone, the words are already prepared. “No.” 

On the other side, Uraraka laughs. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say!” 

“I saw your text!” you rebuff, but you’re smiling. “I know you know I got the job.” 

“Even more of a reason to celebrate!” she whines. “Not only did you graduate with honors but you got a job at Denki’s agency!”

You readjust the phone at your ear, drumming your fingers on the table. “Exactly, it’s Denki’s agency. He knew who I was before he hired me. Forget celebration, it’s borderline nepotism.” 

Uraraka makes a noise of protest. “We both know that Denki was only present at your final interview, and we both also know that the hiring manager had already made up her mind before Denki knew you were getting hired. Don’t undermine your accomplishments, I won’t let you!” 

Your friend’s fierce loyalty to reinforcing the truth makes you pause, because it’s true. Kaminari Denki was always more of a schoolmate rather than a friend, part of the Class 1A group of aspiring heroes that you knew of through your blossoming friendship with Uraraka Ochako. The pair of you met through a class project and have kept in touch ever since. You kept up with each other’s lives over the next many years: Uraraka breaking the top twenty hero rankings, and you breaking into the growing pains of attending university. Pair that with a few study abroad opportunities post-college, leading you to where you are now. Back in Japan, a few weeks away from starting at Chargebolt’s agency. 

And your best friends wants to celebrate. 

On the phone, Uraraka says your name softly, conveying her seriousness. “C’mon. It’ll be super lowkey, promise. I’ll host. No fancy restaurants, no loud music at the bar. Getting a new job is always a new and exciting opportunity. Let’s celebrate that with some friends!” 

You sigh. Uraraka always knows what to say. Call it her genuine nature or stubborn determination. “Fine, fine. Thank you, Ochako.” 

“You can thank me by showing up!” she responds cheerily. 

That conversation was a week ago, and you now stand in front of Uraraka’s home - a beautiful unassuming place of dark wood and brick exterior surrounded by bamboo. You knock on the door, waiting a moment before the door swings open. The easily recognizable Kirishima Eijiro flashes you a grin. “Hey, look who’s here!” 

Kirishima always makes you smile, even when you were kids. “Hi Eijiro, long time no see.” 

One-armed hug later, and you are stepping into the home. Despite the more secluded exterior of Uraraka’s house, the inside is brighter with beige paint and long windows immediately filling you with warmth. A small collection of shoes are already gathered near the entrance, and your own shoes join soon enough. 

Having been in Uraraka’s home many times, you easily navigate through the entry way into the living room where all the voices of guests loudly echo through the house. When you make yourself known, the attention shifts to you and the greetings start. 

All sorts of people, current friends and past classmates, come forward. Names you’ve heard in circulation from Uraraka and others come over to you for congratulations, but all people you were at least on a first-name basis with while at U.A. Most of them are your fellow general studies students, all of whom have jobs in the hero industry with a mutual connection to Uraraka. Lots are also from the hero course, who greet you cheerily despite how long it has been since you’ve seen each other. 

Face-to-face, at least. “You guys have no idea how much I’ve seen you all on the news, even when I was working abroad. It’s crazy how well all of you have been doing in the hero ranks,” you exclaim.

Ashido Mina sighs loudly. “Well, when you’re the generation responsible for rebuilding hero society, you just feel the eyes on you all the time. I think we’re just lucky things are working out the way they are, because that’s definitely helping the rankings.” 

From behind, Kaminari Denki puts an arm around you. “Well, at least you’ll be here to come along on the adventure.” 

You glance at him, grinning. “I should have you to thank for that then, boss.” 

Beside you, Bakugou Katsuki scoffs. “Idiot. Dunce Face here probably doesn’t know the difference between HR and PR. You got the job because you’re qualified and hardworking, aren’t you?” 

A compliment, from Bakugou of all people, warms you up a little with pride. He’s definitely leveled out since graduation. Still with that fiery temper of course. But he’s gentler. 

Not gentle enough though. Kaminari looks appalled at the insult. As the two of them spiral off into their own argument, you look around at all the hero course students who showed up. Actually, all the Class 1A heroes have shown up, with the exception of one. 

You tilt your head, eyes finding Uraraka. “Where’s Midoriya?” 

Bakugou overhears, turning away from Kaminari. The latter turns stony at being dismissed. “That Deku is an idiot. Took over patrol for one of his sidekicks, so he’ll be late.” 

Despite having not seen Midoriya Izuku in years, taking over patrol for a sidekick still somehow seems on brand for him. Too selfless, too thoughtful. 

The party is in full swing after the initial reunion conversations are made. Despite the intention of the party, you are glad that you are not the sole focus. Most people branch off into mini groups to have smaller conversations with one another, catching up or chit-chatting. You find yourself caught up in a conversation with Mina, Bakugou, Kirishimia, and Momo, mainly discussing abroad opportunities and sharing the experiences. 

About an hour into the party, there is a knock at the door. 

“I’ll get it!” you call, knowing that Uraraka is busy with Shouto replenishing the ice bucket. You reach the front door, opening it. There stands Midoroiya Izuku, but not the Izuku you remember. He’s taller, curly green hair, broad shoulders. He’s grown into his features. Oh dear, you think to yourself, he’s cuter than you remember. “M-Midoriya!” you exclaim, doing well to ignore the warning in your heart. 

He smiles, soft familiar eyes. He returns with your name, immediately going into it in a way you have almost forgotten. “I haven’t seen you in forever! How have you been? Congratulations on your job, Denki told us all about it after your final interview! He was so surprised to see you, as was I. Last I heard about you, Ochako said you were doing some internship abroad. Not that I don’t keep up to date about you! Er, nor do I try to ask too many questions about you to Ochako, that seems a little invasive. I’ve just been busy myself. Being a hero is great and everything! But with the cases we take on and traveling and working, it can get difficult…” 

Your eyes are wide. This part about Izuku is familiar; his ever-present ability to go on any tangent and ramble. Back in high school, you were definitely closer to Izuku compared to some other students from Class 1A. But, again, it all stemmed from your friendship with Uraraka. The last time you actually saw Izuku was two years after high school graduation. But that version of Izuku is so much different than the Izuku standing before you - packed with muscle, experience, and fame. 

“Midoriya, it’s good to see you too,” you return once he’s trailed off, seeing that as an opportune moment to jump in. “And no need to apologize. I’m sure it is challenging being the number one hero.” 

At that, he goes nervous, scratching the back of his neck. “W-Well, just want to follow All Might, you know? Help make sure society feels safe again.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” you say. “Come on, I didn’t mean to keep you outside for so long.” 

Izuku laughs at that, stepping in and removing his shoes. He straightens up, looking at you. “How have you been?” 

As the pair of you go deeper into the house, you continue your conversation. The one consistent thing about Izuku is his friendly nature, his ability to keep up a discussion. Even as you lead him into the kitchen to say hello to his friends, his attention never leaves you. He says his quick hello’s, but always returns back to you to resume the conversation. 

Used to getting lost in the sea of a crowd, you feel warm with something beyond pride. It’s a softer feeling, a strange kind of affection building up inside of you. 

Eventually, after Izuku makes his rounds in the living room, he finds you opening up a ginger ale on the couch. “Mind if I join you?” 

You blink up at him, momentarily surprised that he’s still talking to you. Last you saw him, he was talking to Bakugou, which is where you assumed he would be for the rest of the night. “Of course!” 

He sits on the couch. “So when did you move back home?” 

You hum. “Last month. I feel like I had to hit the ground running by applying to as many jobs as possible when I landed. I am really lucky that Denki’s agency hired me. It’s in a pretty good neighborhood, so finding an apartment wasn’t too difficult.” 

“That’s good.” Izuku nods. “What made you want to move back? Was the abroad stuff not working out?”

You ponder. “Not that it wasn’t working out. The experience was great, but I think just getting…” 

“Homesick?” he offers. 

You nod, smiling. “Yeah. Ochako sent me a video of the cherry blossoms this past spring and I don’t know. That’s what did it for me.” 

He hums with agreement. His attention is not unlike how it was when you were kids. But it feels different. The confidence radiates off of him like steam, the years of knowledge navigating the pro hero world and climbing his way to the top being felt so clearly from the way he holds himself. And you feel that initial attraction similar to finding a stranger attractive pinging through you. It makes your smile just a little wider, your attention hold just a little longer, and your eyes linger. You wonder if he’s thinking something similar. 

People start making their leave towards midnight, citing early patrol hours or work as reasons to leave. It doesn’t matter, you enjoyed the party all the same. 

Since you still have some off-time before officially starting work next week, you offer to stay behind with Ochako to clean up. And if Izuku lingers by your side a bit too long before leaving, making you promise him to stay in touch; and if Uraraka gives you that look while you start tossing paper plates into the trash can - you miss it. 

2. 

You hear Chargebolt before you see him, as it always goes at the agency. His energetic personality captures him during all hours of the day, meaning that he can make conversation with nearly everyone at his agency as well as serve as that friendly, protective face to the people of the neighborhoods he patrols. 

You’re in the middle of writing up an email when you hear a knock at your cubicle. Denki stands just outside the perimeter of your desk, all dressed up in his hero outfit and clearly about ready to go on patrol. He greets you. 

“Chargebolt, is everything okay?” you ask, trying to be formal with his hero name. 

Denki grins sheepishly. “I’m actually asking you something un-hero related. Uraraka is making plans for mini-golf with the group after work. You in?” 

You straighten up slightly at the unexpected invitation. “Sure,” you say, smiling. “Do you know who’s going?” 

“Probably those who took the morning shifts for patrol. As far as I know it’ll be Uraraka, Asui, Jiro, Momo, Tenya, Kacchan, and Izuku. And me.” 

The mention of Izuku’s name makes you jolt slightly with heightened interest. “Sounds like a good crowd,” you manage, trying to sound as normal as possible. “I’m down.” 

“Cool, I’ll let Uraraka know,” he says, looking down at his phone for a moment before looking back up at you. “By the way,” he starts. “Something going on between you and Deku?” 

Your heart stammers at that. For a second, you worry your internalized secret has gotten out. That you suddenly like Izuku differently now after all these years. “What do you mean?” 

For someone whose entire personality hinges on silliness and an easy-going nature, Denki’s look is surprisingly clear. “Nothing specific. You guys were talking a lot at the party. And just now, Izuku said we should invite you. Was just wondering if there was something going on there. Or if something happened after the party.” 

“Um…” you stammer. “N-Nothing happened! We didn’t do anything after the party either! We’re just… friends.” 

Denki gives you another look, before he shrugs. “I was just curious. Anyways!” His thoughtful observation is replaced with his usual cheery smile. “I’m going out to patrol, but should be back in time for us to go to the mini golf place together. If you’re cool with that.” 

You give him a weak thumbs-up. “I am. See you soon then.” 

With some fingerguns, Chargebolt is off. 

The remaining day is a slow six hours of work. You answer some emails, write out some sentences for an upcoming newsletter your boss wants you to write. But you are finishing up sending over some drafts and photos to your department just as Chargebolt is strolling back into the office. 

He passes by your cubicle, knocking on it twice with his knuckles. “I’ll be ready in five minutes, that cool?” 

You click and clack a few more letters before hitting enter. “Yep, I’m almost done myself.” 

Denki nods. “Okay, let me change. Be right back!!!” he dashes down to his office, returning a few seconds later in his casual clothes. You’re just about finished packing up just as Denki returns. Together, the pair of you leave the office and make your way to the subway station. Your initial worries about Denki attracting attention are whisked away when you notice how easily he can blend into a crowd. 

You voice this thought to him as the pair of you board the train. 

“Sometimes, not attracting attention is just as important as attracting attention,” he says. 

It is a quick ten minute ride to the destination - a trendy neighborhood that is teetering with people despite the fact that it is a Thursday night. The mini golf is located on the first floor of the big mall, decked out with some cliche nighttime assortment of black lights and Kpop blasting through the speakers. 

You and Denki are the last to arrive at the mini golf experience, a place you notice is decidedly too empty for a relatively popular weeknight activity. 

You echo that sentiment to Denki, who only grins in response. “Uraraka rented the whole space out for us,” he explains. “Probably didn’t want to cause a commotion once the public realized how much pro-heroes would be here.” 

To further emphasize his observation, you notice a sign by the check-in desk. Reserved for a birthday party. We apologize for any inconvenience. 

With a nod to the worker, you and Denki step further into the venue. Before you is a mini golf course you could only describe as a very high tech, borderline boujee course. Each hole had different colors, RGB lights along the borders of each course. Each one has a different design, some playing with scale (you catch sight of a blown up air hockey course), some playing with altitude, and some playing with classic mini golf concepts (you, of course, see the windmill turning) up ahead.

Off to the side is the snack and resting area, tables scattered about with the heroes occupying one of them. 

“So who’s birthday is it?” Denki exclaims as a greeting, causing the other heroes to turn around and shout out their greetings. 

Your eyes find Izuku’s, who sends you a shy wave from next to Iida. You smile and wave back. 

The group starts shortly after. To remain faithful to the true rules of mini golf, as per Bakugo’s words, you all agree to tackle the mini golf courses by number. You all start at hole one and one by one, the different heroes take their turns swinging. The turns are Momo, Jiro, Asui, Uraraka, Bakugo, Denki, and Izuku. You had elected to go last, mostly to allow the peace and quiet as the others in your group move onto the next hole as soon as they score. 

You notice that Izuku, however, does not move onto the next hole with the others. He picks up his golf ball from the hole and makes his way back over to you. “This wasn’t a bad hole!” he exclaims, smiling. “You just need to aim a little to the right.” 

You tilt your head. “Aren’t you going to go to the next hole?” 

He shrugs, still smiling. “Who’ll cheer you on when you get the hole-in-one?” 

Although the question seems innocent, the thoughtful nature makes your heart speed up. How can this man be so considerate towards someone you could consider to be almost a stranger again? 

You swallow down the nerves. “I don’t know,” you answer meekly. “I’m pretty bad at this. Your confidence in me is definitely misplaced.” 

You do take his advice and angle yourself slightly to the right before putting the ball. You watch as it races down the course, right into the hole. 

Izuku grins, tucking the club underneath his arm to clap his hands. “Woooo! Looks like things are heating up over here, folks!” 

“Stop…” you whine, pouting as you turn warm with embarrassment as you approach him. “Well, I guess I had a pretty good coach.” 

He untucks the club from his arm, sending you a wink that jolts through you. “I knew I saw something in you, rookie.”

At his stare, your pout turns into a small private smile. It’s one that he returns, until Denki calls for the two of you. “Quit flirting lovebirds! You’re two holes behind!” 

Quickly, you and Izuku pull away. Although Izuku continues to stay by your side during the remainder of the course in order to chat, neither of you address Denki’s comment. Nor do you make any comments about coaching or rookies again. 

The rest of the evening goes by without a hitch. Unsurprisingly, Bakugo wins with the most hole-in-ones. 

The whole group ends mini golf to a cold, fall night. It’s past midnight at this point, and with that comes a chill that only happens during the late nights. You shiver, wrapping your coat tighter around you as the others start saying their goodbyes. 

On instinct, your gaze falls to Izuku. He meets your eye and flashes an easy smile. “Hey, it’s a bit late. Can I drive you home?”

A heartbeat in your throat. You try to play it off with a smile. “You have a car?” 

He grins. “Course I do. Sometimes it helps with keeping the privacy of having to drive a drunk friend home.” 

You laugh, taking a mental note to ask him about it later without the prying eyes of other heroes. “The ride is very sweet, Midoriya. I don’t want to take too much of your time though.” 

“I insist,” he says. 

So you nod to yourself first, and then to him. “Sure,” you breathe. 

From behind, someone clears their throat. Izuku blinks out of his trance. “Oh, Kacchan! Need a ride?” 

You turn your head to look at Bakugo, who is watching you both carefully. He scoffs. “No way, nerds. Would rather take the subway.” Without acknowledgement, he stalks away, leaving the two of you behind. 

Izuku, used to Kacchan’s dismissive behavior, doesn’t bat an eye. He just levels you with a stare, his green eyes soft. “Just the two of us then.” 

The two of us echoes in your mind as you follow Izuku to his car, the goodbyes and departing words of your friends feeling thousands of miles away. It’s cool. You’re cool. You and Izuku have been alone loads of times before back when you were at school; this shouldn’t be any different. This can’t be any different. Nothing, not even your own heart, could convince you otherwise. 

3.

“So.” 

You look up from your plate of pasta, leveling Uraraka with a stare. “So?” 

Uraraka is stirring her lemon tea, exchanging a quick look with Kyoka Jiro before letting go of the straw. “I was patrolling with Deku the other day.” 

The mention of Izuku is curious, sure, but you ignore the louder thump in your chest. Truthfully, after the party and the mini golf, you elected to try and stomp away the attractive pull you felt towards him for the sake of your own sanity. After all, it has been so many years since you and Izuku last talked. The possibility of him feeling that spark with you was near zero. Having made peace (for the most part) with that realization, you respond to Uraraka’s observation. “Okay.” 

Uraraka is still watching you carefully. “I found out he may or may not have some interest in you.” 

Interest in you? You somehow choke on your own saliva, hutching over as you try to cough out your shock. Jiro’s hand is at your back, patting it. “You okay?” 

You drink half your cup of water in response. “How…” you manage, coughing a bit more. “How did you find out?” 

Uraraka smiles. “Deku has been my friend for years, I can tell. Also, he is not as subtle as he thinks he is. He was asking about you during patrol.” 

You tilt your head at that, mind and throat much clearer than it was five seconds ago. “He didn’t want to ask me anything himself?” 

She shrugs. “You guys haven’t spoken for years. I’m sure he didn’t want to come on too strong by asking some of the questions he was asking.” 

That makes you narrow your eyes. “Like what? What would he need to ask you about?” 

Her smile turns into a grin, one that curves around the fork. “Like if you were seeing anyone. And where exactly you stayed while you were working abroad.” 

You try to mentally deconstruct your pasta, suddenly all too aware of how hot your entire body feels. Hot with embarrassment? Hot with disbelief? Or hot with the knowledge that your own feelings weren’t completely one-sided? “T-Those would have been interesting questions to hear from him…” 

Uraraka is still looking at you. While that grin is still on her face, there is a touch of thoughtfulness in her eyes. “What do you think of Izuku?” 

Your brain feels like it is filled with butterflies, running a mile a minute. Your body feels like a fire has just been lit underneath with how warm everything seems to be getting. “He’s nice. A good listener, and an even better conversationalist. Sometimes I feel like big groups can drown out my voice, but he never made me feel like that. He was like that when we were kids, I remember, but I don’t know. It feels different now. I didn’t really think too much about this before, but he’s pretty cute now… I guess.” You tack on because you see Uraraka’s grin widen. 

“So, you like Izuku too?” 

If this were a cartoon, you imagine this is the part where a puff of smoke comes out of your head. You stammer, arms flailing about comically. “I-I mean, I wouldn’t put it like that… We’ve always been more acquaintances, so saying that I like him sounds a bit too strong. Not that I hate him, I do like him! Just…” 

“So there’s a new kind of spark and attraction, but you don’t want to jump the gun and say you do like him to avoid being too premature?” Uraraka cuts in gently, her previous teasing subsided. “I’m only teasing. I just wanted to try and warn you what was going on. I won’t tell Izuku anything, obviously. Girl code.” 

You leave Uraraka and Jirou feeling naturally unsettled, but almost relieved to have some part of your feelings validated. You weren’t the only one pondering, contemplating a ‘what-if’ scenario.

You’re about ready to put a pin in those feelings, perhaps until the next time someone brings up Izuku, until you hear your name being called. 

You turn, feeling a kind of rush wash over you. It’s the kind of feeling one gets from getting called out unexpectedly. It’s Izuku. You gap. “Midoriya!” you exclaim. You freeze slightly, realizing that he is on the clock right now. Might be better to call him properly. “I-I mean, Deku!” 

He smiles easily. “Hey, I thought it was you!” 

You smile back. “What are you doing here?” 

He tilts his head, confused, but then seems to realize something. “Oh, I’m patrolling here today. I know Jiro usually patrols here, but she mentioned needing to take the afternoon off.” 

His mention of Jiro makes you run hot. Uraraka and Jiro planned this?! 

“O-Oh,” you hum, trying to feign curiosity as opposed to giving away the fact that you know exactly where Jiro spent her afternoon. “That’s really nice of you.” 

“Ah, well of course!” Izuku manages, turning red at the compliment. “Any one of my friends would do the same for me.” A pause between the two of you. “C-Can I walk you to the station?” 

Despite the gossip exchanged with Uraraka and Jiro earlier in the day, you are still taken aback by his offer. You cannot stop the smile from forming on your lips. “The number one hero in Japan walking a mere civilian to the subway?” 

Izuku laughs, looking away briefly and running a hand through his hair. “You’re more than just a mere civilian. Let me walk you to the station.” 

You laugh with him. “Okay, Deku. I’ll allow it.” 

The walk to the station is short, but slow and peaceful. No area could feel more safer than with the number one Symbol of Peace walking the streets. As always, conversation with Izuku is easy. You talk about your first week at Chargebolt’s agency (“Everyone is very nice, and Denki is a good boss. Always on time with paperwork and giving us feedback on upcoming appearances and events!”), Izuku’s recent patrol with Ochako (“Really normal, nothing out of the ordinary happened!” he had managed, turning red), and any plans for the upcoming weekend (Izuku has patrol. You’re going furniture shopping to buy some quality of life goods for your new apartment.) 

Once you are outside the station, you turn to him. “Thank you for walking me, Symbol of Peace.” 

Izuku puts a hand on his chest. “I’m here for the people.” He seems to remember something, because he makes an alarmed expression. “Oh! Before you leave, I have something for you!” 

He digs into one of the many pockets of his hero suit, producing a small clear plastic envelope. “I was at this small little convention in the morning. I was going to give this to you the next time I saw you, since what were the odds of us running into each other here?” He hands over the envelope. 

You take it slowly. “You got me something? That’s so nice of you…” you trail off once you see what Izuku has gotten you. It’s a pin, intricate detailing and lines of silver tracing out a tree covered in cherry blossom petals. 

Ochako sent me a video of the cherry blossoms this past spring and I don’t know. That’s what did it for me.

He remembered. You look at him, heart bleeding with a strange fondness. “Deku, it’s beautiful.” 

“It’s nothing,” he brushes off. But he’s scratching the back of his neck again, gazing away, red cheeks. “Just saw it and thought of you. I hope it can always make you think of home, no matter if you decide to stay here or pursue another trip abroad.” 

“I love it,” you say firmly, already starting to open the clear envelope. Izuku hovers closely, wordlessly taking the plastic and leaving you with the pin. You remove the backing, clipping the pin into the strap of your bag so that it glimmers under the sunlight. “What do you think?” 

He smiles. “Pretty.” 

He’s just talking about the pin, you tell yourself. So you allow yourself to brighten, pretending like your conversation with Uraraka hadn’t happened. “Thanks!” You glance back at the station. “I should get going. Thank you again, Deku. I’ll cherish this.” 

You disappear into the station, scanning your card and easily navigating to the platform that’ll take you home. As you wake for the train to arrive, you look down at the new pin on your bag. You turn it gently between your fingers. Your heart feels as warm as the sun. 

4. 

You’re grabbing lunch at the convenience store when it happens. 

You’re browsing through some aisles, ready to grab a new flavor of instant ramen you’ve been excited about since hearing a coworker talk about it, as the glass doors of the store explode. Before you can react, your limbs freeze up and stick to the sides of your body. You gasp, unable to stop yourself from falling over in time to see a small group of villains enter the shop. 

Villain attacks aren’t exactly common nowadays, but they do pop up occasionally as you’ve heard on the news every once in a while. You just never thought you’d witness a robbery first-hand. You watch as the villains break off. One of them approaches the cashier, while the others start traversing the aisles to foods and snacks into duffle bags. You hear a few other store goers whimpering as the villains trek down their aisle. 

You don’t blame their nerves. Your own heart starts beating faster and louder as the steps and laugher grow closer. 

A few more steps and you see one of them at the end of the aisle. He sees you and laughs, possibly due to your immobile state. He assesses you before making his way over to you. 

And barely makes it two steps before a flurry of green lightning knocks him out of the way. 

You inhale sharply, eyes following the movement and feeling like relief wash over you like a wave when you see Deku pinning the man down. The villain scoffs, trying to wiggle his way out for a moment before he realizes who has caught him. 

“Holy fuck, it’s Deku!”

Across the way, Deku turns his head and meets your gaze. There is a flicker of something in his eyes, but it is immediately replaced with the warmth and safety of a number one hero. “I’m here now, is everything alright?” 

You try to nod, before remembering that you cannot move. “I-I can’t move,” you say. “I think it’s a quirk.” 

As the chaos amongst the villains rises, Deku takes advantage of the confusion to Blackwhip the rest of the group together. Although he maintains a mask of heroism and professionalism, he Blackwhips the rest of the villains with a noticeably heavy hand. 

It isn’t until the villains are handed over to the police, that the effects of the quirk go away, that you are checked up by a quirk doctor to ensure no long-term damage, that Deku can finally slip away long enough to see you. 

You straighten up from your position in the first-aid station as you see Deku approach. The closer he gets, the more that hero facade melts away. By the time he reaches you, he looks more like Izuku. Your Izuku. He is worried as he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you anywhere?” 

You shake your head, the weight of his hands on your cheeks a reassuring comfort. “I’m okay… Deku.” 

The use of his hero name brings him back to the reality of the situation - one where he is the hero, and you are the civilian. He brushes his thumb against your cheek, before pulling back. “Have you seen the quirk doctor yet?” 

You nod. “Yes. Everything is okay. It was weaker because the villain was using his quirk on all of us in the store.” You raise your arm, curling your fingers up and down. You grin up at him. “See? Good as new!” 

He stares down at your opened hand, seeming to weigh something in his head before he reaches over to lace your fingers together. The weight of his touch feels like sparks up your spine as you stare up at him. Even though you’re still next to the paramedics that were treating the light bruises you acquired from your fall, it feels like they could be in a different world. 

“Erm, Chargebolt asked me to drop off some paperwork since we’re working on a case together with a few other heroes. I felt my Danger Sense go off, but something about it was more urgent than usual. It only ever gets like that when…” he trails off, shaking his head, squeezing your hand once before letting go. “Anyways, I’m glad I got to you. And that you’re safe.” 

You nod, returning the smile. “Yes. Thank you for saving me, Deku.” 

He goes a little red. He opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by a call from the police, which turns him rather sheepish. “I shouldn’t be much longer with the police. Can you wait for me? Let me walk you home.” 

The urgency in his face lets you know that he doesn’t want to leave you out of his sight right now. Likewise, the thought of losing his protective gaze makes you feel exposed. At least, for now considering the afternoon you’ve experienced. “Sure,” you say, heart thudding. “I don’t mind waiting.” 

With one last little nod, he turns around and walks away. This leaves you alone with the two paramedics tasked with making sure you are okay. Both have been respectfully quiet during your conversation with Izuku, but are quick to investigate as soon as he leaves. 

“I didn’t know you were dating the number one hero,” one of them starts slowly, teasingly, as she cleans a wound on your cheek that she had already treated. 

You go warm. “I’m not,” you protest.

“Ooooh,” the first paramedic says disbelievingly. The silence is loud, as you suspect the two paramedics casting a glance between each other. “I see what’s going on.” 

“I’m not!” you insist louder, but something in you has a sinking feeling that they don’t believe you. 

Truthfully, you’re not sure you believe it yourself. 

5. 

izuku (9:15pm) - [hyper bunny jumping sticker] just finished up patrol! 

me (9:15pm) - wow, you’re actually getting out at a reasonable time!!!!! 

izuku (9:16pm) - i know!! luckily the most exciting thing today was trying to get a kitty out of a tree

me (9:16pm) - you really are a hero for the people 

izuku (9:16pm) - that’s what i’ve been saying this whole time! 

izuku (9:17pm) - what are you up to?

me (9:20pm) - sorry, still at the office :/ 

izuku (9:20pm) - ?????????

me (9:21pm) - i know, i know!!! but i promised denki i’d have this report finished by tomorrow. 

izuku (9:21pm) - denki made you stay late????? 

izuku (9:21pm) - brb gonna find him. i know where he lives 

me (9:22pm) - no!!!!! It’s okay!! he doesn’t know i’m still here. 

me (9:22pm) - i may or may not have told him I’d be out by 6. 

me (9:22pm) - [hyper bunny hiding behind a rock] 

izuku (9:22pm) - ……………….

izuku (9:23pm) - I’m coming over 

me (9:24pm) - what 

me (9:24pm) - izuku no 

izuku (9:24pm) - izuku yes 

izuku (9:24pm) - I’ll be there in 5 minutes 

You glare at your phone, a mix of anger yet fondness rushing through your blood. You look around at the empty Chargebolt agency now, internally wincing at yourself and complete inability to manage your time. You really thought collecting all that data and putting it together into a report would take a few extra hours. Not an entire night, like what is happening right now. You just wanted to make things perfect. 

Looking at the report now, it does look as good as you wanted. But was it worth staying behind that long? You’re not so sure. 

Your phone buzzes again. 

izuku (9:30pm) - i’m here 

On cue, there is a knock on the front door of the office. You slide back from your chair, navigate your way to the front, and find Izuku on the other side. He waves to you, purposefully ignoring your glare as he slides into the office. 

“Hi,” he greets. 

You continue to glare at him. “You should be asleep, not coming here just to babysit me!” you protest, pouting only when his grin grows bigger. “Besides, I’m almost done.” 

“How are you getting home?” he challenges. 

“With my legs! I’ll take the subway!” 

“Unacceptable,” he rejects. “Besides, you just said I was a hero for the people. You’re part of that people, so I have to be your hero too.” 

You huff. Damn him and his logic. “Fine,” you say, turning around and allowing him to follow you through the office. “I’m about done anyways. Let me just print everything and we can go.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he responds, smiling when you snort at him. 

Printing is simple. It’s just a five page report with graphics, statistics, and data; one that you leave on Denki’s desk with a post-it note, before you are packing up your desk. Your work laptop, your notebook with upcoming assignments and deadlines, your water bottle… Deku watches the process with his careful eyes. Eyes that flicker occasionally over to the entrance of the agency. 

You shoulder your backpack. “Okay, let’s get going.” 

So Deku leads you out of the building, where his car is parked right outside. There are still people out and about, after all it is only 9pm, but Deku doesn’t ease up on his watch as he opens the passenger door for you.

Izuku, whom you would consider more of a friend now after all the group hangouts you’ve shared together and the occasional one-on-one conversation from his offers to drive you home, asks you about your day as he drives you to your apartment. You explain that the craziness from a normal workday is why you were working so late on an additional assignment, and have to reassure him again that Denki had no idea you stayed as late as you had. 

Izuku talks about his patrol, leading into a conversation about TV shows the pair of you have been watching recently - ones that Izuku gets to watch on his day off. 

He is, and always has been, easy to talk to even in one-on-one settings. It feels like time rushes before he’s driving into your apartment complex. It is gated off from the rest of the city, only unlockable with a code he is familiar with. Once the gates open, he drives in. Normally, Izuku is good about dropping you off right at the front door. 

Sometimes, like this time, he drives in a little further so the pair of you can keep talking. He drives down the parking spaces, finding one in the far back corner away from lights and possible late-night walkers. He parks, settling down and facing you, laughing when you start laughing about an awkward situation that happened to you last week at the coffee shop. 

Your laughter starts to die down as you turn to face Izuku. “Thanks for driving me, Midoriya. You’re too nice to me.” 

He laughs, turning to look at you too, head against the headrest. “I like being nice to you.” 

The quiet has never felt so loud as your heart beats louder and louder; your eyes start taking him in. The glimmer from his center console screen reflects as blue in his eyes as he takes you in the same way you take in him. Heart in your throat, smiling slipping off your face, as you stare at him. There is an openness in his face not unlike the look he gave you after the villain attack, one of softness and something else. Something deeper. It's something that makes your heart pick up a little in your chest, afraid of the meaning but yearning all the same. 

Without thinking, you look at his mouth. Lips that look soft and warm, inviting you in. 

You don’t even realize you’re leaning in until Izuku’s face grows closer and closer. Until the ruffle of clothes show he’s shifting in his seat. Until you’re closing your eyes, and he is kissing you. 

Softly, suddenly, you inhale a breath, making a little squeak in the back of your throat. It’s a noise Izuku seems to take interest in, because he moves his mouth, pushing in further, and holding the back of your head. You try to match him, try to keep up with him despite your brain melting and your heart feeling as if it is about to spill out of your chest. Your hand lifts up, fingers lingering on his wrist to give yourself a piece of reality to hold onto. 

After he’s thoroughly traced your lips with his tongue, you separate. But Izuku doesn’t let you go too far, never lets you go too far, as he rests his forehead against yours. In the quiet of his car, the only sound is the sound of heavy breathing, of your mind reeling with what just happened. With just how much you like the man in front of you. 

“Are you okay?” Izuku whispers.

You swallow, opening your eyes and nodding. “More than okay,” you promise. 

A few seconds of quiet. “Do you want to keep going?” he asks. An open invitation to stay, or to leave. The latter seems like the most faraway choice at the moment. 

You press your lips together, wetting them. Izuku watches carefully. “Yes,” you answer. What entails keeping going, you have no idea. But the pressure in your stomach and the sirens in your mind singing for Izuku give a good idea of what you want. 

Izuku nods, a movement you feel more than see. He pulls back to look at you once more, but doesn’t stay away for too long. He answers by kissing you again, a light peck, before moving to the corner of your mouth, the edge of your jaw, down your neck. The hand at the back of your head tightens slightly, pulling at your hair as he tugs your head back to explore your neck. 

The light, tickling sensation floods your brain with cotton as you scramble. Your hands find his hair, wrapping around his neck and pulling at his shirt. More little noises form at the back of your throat, noises that whimper away as Izuku’s teeth gently mark at spots that make your thighs twitch. “M-Midoriya,” you whine. 

Izuku leaves a trail of kisses from your neck back to your mouth as he returns to you with more feverish intent than before. Tongue and teeth clash as you inch forward towards him. A few inches of center console space feel like thousands of miles. “Say my name,” he commands softly against your lips. 

“What?” you breathe out. “Midoriya?” 

He shakes his head, pecking you once, twice. “My name.” 

Oh. “Izuku…” you whisper.  

He pulls away suddenly. The sensation causes your eyes to flash open, taking in Pro Hero Deku, your Izuku, with his flushed skin and red lips and crazed eyes. He leans forward again with his whole body, gathering your waist in his arms. To him, you are but a feather as he easily maneuvers you from the passenger seat onto his lap, where your legs rest on either side of him. The hem of your skirt rides up with the gesture, the thin material of your panties doing little to the imagination. After an adjustment, you find that Izuku is hard, the imprint of his crotch right against your clit. 

The reaction is immediate. You jolt slightly, leaning more into Izuku, who wraps his arms around your back to keep you pressed against him. He noses your hairline. “Is this okay?” he whispers. 

His consistent checking in runs you hot as you lean back just enough to meet his gaze. “More than okay,” you reassure, ducking down enough to kiss him again. 

The pair of you continue like this for a little, his hands locked around your back as your fingers gently press against his chest. The intermingling of tongue and the loudness of your breath fill the empty space, until Izuku’s hands trace down your spine and settle down at the hem of your skirt. Slowly, he lifts it until the hem reaches your hips, where he stops to rest his hands at your bare skin. 

One back-and-forth movement of your hips against his crotch elicits a groan from him. You pull away with a sharp gasp, tilting your head back as Izuku continues guiding your movements across his dick. “Nnnn, Izuku!” you whine. “Feels so good…” 

Izuku hums, watching you hungrily. “Good girl, doing so well. Gonna take me so easily in this cute skirt.” 

You eye him half-lidded. “Really?” 

He smiles. “Really.” He leans forward, kissing at your collarbone, turning whatever words you were going to say next into cotton. He travels further downward this time, unbuttoning your blouse and tugging down your bra strap. His mouth captures a nipple, circling it with his tongue, the additional simulation making you cry out again as his other hand continues to guide you back-and-forth on top of his dick. 

You’re panting now, feeling absolutely soaked in your panties. Your giggle is a breathless whimper when he releases your nipple, only to return to it with a caress of his thumb. “That t-tickles.” 

Izuku looks up at you, thumb still circling your nipple, stars in his eyes. “You’re cute. Always so cute to me,” he hums. He removes his thumb, planting a gentle kiss where his thumb once was. You clench around nothing, moved by the sweet gesture. 

Slowly, the hand once at your nipple moves downward, grazing your hips and your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your panties and below, stopping to graze your clit gently through the fabric. You jolt, your brain running wild with a singular sensation: how much you want this man right now. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “So wet already…” he trails off, the comment mostly made for himself as he swiftly tugs your panties to one side and rubs your slit. The slipperiness of his touch shows you just how wet you have become. You’re almost embarrassed by the teenage-esque scenario of getting wet from something so simple, but Izuku’s groan quells your embarrassment. 

After a few rubs, he lines up his finger and sinks his index finger into your heat. The thickness of his finger runs you hot all over, another whimper leaving your lips as your hips rock gently against his hand. You lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Feels so good Izuku,” you whisper into his ear. His one finger is already much longer and thicker than your own, and the newness of the situation runs through your body like wildfire. 

“Yeah?” he whispers back, angling your hips outward just enough for him to slip in another finger. He groans. “Pretty girl, so wet and good for me…” 

A few more rocking movements before he removes his hand, bringing it up for the two of you to see. He separates his two fingers, watching as your essence glimmers under the streetlamp. Without a warning, he slips the fingers into his mouth. 

You squawk at that. “Izuku!” you gasp, feeling embarrassment run over you. 

He pulls his fingers out, laughing almost shyly. Unnerving, really, considering what the two of you have just been up to. “It’s good!”

Your own lips pull up slightly. Oh god, forget just liking this boy. The stuttering of your heart feels like it could be beyond that. “Oh my god Izuku.” 

“What?” he laughs again, wrapping both arms around you, bringing you chest to chest. “It’s you. Of course I’ll like it.” 

You pout, not sure whether you just hit him or kiss him. “You’re stupid.” 

“Sure, sure,” he says, gazing at you softly. He leans forward, and you meet him halfway. You kiss once, twice, thrice. His tongue slips into your mouth and you sigh. It’s easy, just as it has always been with Izuku. 

That ease is what drives your hands downward towards his pants, already unbelting his belt. 

He pulls away slightly, laughing against your lips. “You ready, pretty girl?” 

“Yes, yes please,” you whisper, pulling him out. He’s long, kind of thick too; you can tell just from touching him. 

Hands on your hips again, Izuku shifts you so that you are lined up with him. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” 

Slowly, he helps lower you down onto his dick, using his hand to perfectly line it up and push himself in. The push past the first ring of muscle makes your head spin, makes you breath heavy as you hold onto his hands for support. You tilt your head back, reminding yourself to breathe. 

Beneath you, Izuku isn’t faring much better. His heavy breathing mirrors yours as his hands grip your waist, likely grounding himself and telling himself not to go too fast. “Fuck,” he sighs. “So good. You’re so good. Fit me so well, fuck…” 

You can feel the flutters of your walls as Izuku pushes himself deeper and deeper. A thumb at your clit further relaxes you, allowing him to slip further and further in until you swear you feel him at your throat by the time your hips meet. Every little flutter causes Izuku’s hands to tighten. 

“Baby, baby- stop,” he grumbles, taking in deep breaths to calm himself. 

Yet, the use of the petname causes another flutter to your walls. You start to grind your hips into his. “Izuku,” you whimper, pawing at his chest. “Please… want you so bad…” 

His eyes open at lock onto yours. His hands loosen their hold, but not their control; he is slowing your movement down. “Really want you too,” he whispers bashfully, a little random given the fact that his dick is inside you right now. It makes you still, pulling back enough to look at him. To take in his soft glimmering eyes, gazing at you with a fondness that makes you warm for something beyond sex. Beyond friendship. Beyond this limbo you and Izuku have been caught in since that first reunion. “Really like you.” 

Your fingers curl around his shirt. “I really like you too.” 

His smiles, leaning over to kiss you one last time before his hands settle to start guiding you up and down. A whimper sounds from the back of your throat as your breathings start to pick up in time to his pace. Izuku adjusts his position to plant his feet on the floor, using that leverage to drive up into you with more speed. 

You cry out, “Oh, hhnng, yes, yes, Izu… Izuku…” The words keep getting caught in your throat as your fingers curl around his wrists. “Yes… yes…” In the haze of your movements, you are vaguely aware of your chest bouncing with the position. That is something Izuku takes full advantage of. He tugs down the other strap of your bra, causing the fabric to slip down your body. 

He leans forward to kiss, nip, lick, and breathe against the skin of your breast. Once both of his hands have settled on the curve of your ass, his thrusts become more precise and powerful. Vaguely, you are aware of the car shaking with the force of your movements. But all you can focus on is Izuku. His hands on your ass, his breath on your collarbone, the slapping of skin. 

“C’mon… c’mon pretty girl,” he urges, one hand moving to thumb at your clit. “Dripping for me. Want you to cum for me too…” 

You are wet. You can feel it through Izuku’s thrusts, and now with his thumb as it collects some leaving your slit in order to gently circle that bundle of nerves. 

“Aaah,” you whimper, tilting your head back, fingers digging into his shirt. The coil in your stomach is tightening, quickly edging itself to the surface. “Nnn, more…!” 

“C’mon, cum for me baby,” Izuku whispers, rubbing tighter circles on your clit, which is the final nail in the coffin. “That’s it… good girl…” 

His words become meaningless whispers in your mind as your body spasms with the force of your orgasm. Your knees try to close, try to escape Izuku’s hold, as your breath becomes shuttering gasps and moans. Izuku, however, never lets you go too far. His hold on you remains as he continues thrusting up into you. 

His growing groans ground you enough for you to fall into him, to whisper in his ear. “Izuku, please cum inside of me…” you manage weakly. 

His groans taper off as he gives you one last, determined thrust before spilling inside of you. He moans, pulling back and managing a few smaller thrusts to ride out of high. You whimper, taking it all, willing to do anything for him. 

You’re not sure how much time goes by before Izuku is speaking. “Wow.” 

You cannot help yourself. You start to laugh as you unlatch yourself from his neck. “Wow indeed.” 

You pull back enough to stare at him, only to find that Izuku is already looking. His eyes flicker across your face, likely accessing your condition. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb across the skin. “Are you okay?” 

You grin. “I’m great.” 

He smiles. “Good.” Without warning, his hand lowers down to wrap around your throat. Not tightly, just a weight to guide you forward towards him. For the hand around your throat, his kiss is tender. You lean back. “Want to go again?” 

You’re not surprised. He’s still hard after all. Your answer is a movement of your hips, which startles him into a groan. But it’s worth seeing his head tilt back as a groan escapes his lips. “F-fuck, okay pretty girl. Then we’ll go back to my place, okay?” 

Your own answer is interrupted by the small thrusts he starts coaxing you into by his hands moving down to spread your cheeks. “O-okay,” you whimper. 

[myheroacademiashorts]

"Shut Up, I'm Trying to Ask You Out."

Katsuki Bakugo wasn't sure exactly when it started, but he was pretty sure he hated your guts.

It started during the first few days of school. You turned towards him, desk only a foot away from his, and smiled so brightly that it made his chest hurt. He thought he was sick, and after a useless trip to the nurse's office, found himself at the peak of health. It happened again not too long after, when you laughed at Dunce Face's stupid joke. He had felt his chest again, as well as a rush of heat to his ears. And the symptoms continued for months, still persisting. There was only one explanation to these weird reactions.

Katsuki hated you so much that it made his body react, too.

He glowered at you from across the classroom, watching you toss your head back as laughter spilled from your lips. One of your hands was grasping onto Dumb Hair's arm, and the sharp-toothed red head didn't seem to be complaining about it one bit. "Tch." Katsuki clicked his tongue, feeling that familiar pang once more before turning his gaze towards the window.

"Getting jealous again, are we?" Raccoon Eyes nudged his arm, wiggling her eyes between him and you.

"Hell no. What would I be jealous about? Over some shitty nobody? Yeah, right." Despite having just averted his gaze, Katsuki's ruby eyes tracked you down once more. You had removed your hand - thank hell - but instead of seeing your turned away face, the hot-headed boy met your steady gaze. He held it for a moment, and you titled your head at him. Almost curiously. Then you smiled, and that awful thump happened again. He turned back to the window, grinding his teeth together.

Yup. There was no better explanation. He really, really didn't like you.

And with all of his great fuckin' luck, he just had to have been caught "staring" at you by his "friends."

"Oh, to be young and in love!" Dunce Face dramatically pressed his hand to his forehead, swaying from side to side before falling gracefully into Racoon Eyes' arms. "Kiss me, Bakugou!" He said in a false falsetto, followed by a series of kissing noises. The pair erupted into giggles and shrieks as Katsuki sent a warning glare in their direction.

"I'm not in love. I hate her, remember?"

Racoon Eyes shook her head, propping herself up from the ground. "That's what you think. Have you ever even thought about the possibility that you might... gasp... have a crush?"

Katsuki didn't respond, only grumbling incoherently as he stared down at the book in his hands. It was supposed to be a study session, with Katsuki on the couch and the two idiots sitting in front of him, their homework splayed out on the coffee table in a jumbled mess.

"C'mon, Mina. That would mean Bakugo has a hear- ow." Dunce Face rubbed the back of his head, still registering that he was just smacked with Katsuki's heavy book. "Hey, you'll regret that."

Katsuki grinned. "Yeah? I'd like to see you fuckin' try."

Dunce Face's attention flitted elsewhere, and that dumb grin spread across his face. He held up his hand. "Y/N! Just in time! Come join us!"

Katsuki froze, eyes narrowing. "Stop fucking with me, Sparky. We both know you-re just-"

He felt your hands on his shoulders first, then the smell of your perfume. It was fruity and sweet, like some kind of strawberry shortcake. "Hey! Are you guy's studying? I'd love to join, if that's okay!"

He couldn't do anything. His mouth had dried up, body frozen as it tried to catch up with his brain. His breath caught in his throat. When your hands lifted from his shoulders, he almost sighed out of disappointment. Him. Out of all people. And it hit him like a truck that maybe, just maybe, those two damn idiots might've been right. For the first and last time in their lives.

You didn't wait for a response, instead hopping over the couch cushions and sitting beside Katsuki. He couldn't even look at you straight, only sparing you a side-glance and offering a mumbled "what's up."

What's up? He doesn't ever say stuff like that, and his ears began to burn. His two so-called friends exchanged a look. You didn't seem to notice, instead leaning closer to Katsuki to get a better look at his book. "Hey! What are you studying? Literature? That's one of my favorite classes."

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and his breath caught in his throat as he finally looked at your face as you stared down at the book in his hands.

You were beautiful. He always knew, deep down, you were pretty. But it hit him so much harder when you were right beside him, eyes glittering as they studied something, pink lips curling into a soft and natural smile. You were so different compared to him; soft, polite, understanding. He was an ass.

Your eyes moved upwards, and he quickly averted his gaze, hoping you didn't catch him staring. Racoon Eyes cleared her throat. "You know, I think I forgot that book in my room. Right, Kaminari? Didn't you forget yours, too?"

"Huh? No, I have it right-"

"KAMINARI. Didn't. You. Forget. It?"

Those two brain cells of his finally rubbed together. "Oh! Oh yes, I did. Darn! Let's go together to grab our books, Mina! We'll be right back!" Dunce Face was robotic, standing up and marching out of the living room towards the dorms. Racoon Eyes was right on his heels, sparing a thumbs-up at Katsuki before disappearing behind the doorframe.

"Damn idiots."

"Yeah, sometimes. But that's what makes them fun, right?"

Katsuki snapped his head to you, eyes wide. That may have been the meanest thing he had ever heard you say, and that was saying a lot. "Uh... Yeah, I guess. Sometimes."

"So, while we're waiting for them, what do you want to talk about?"

"Oh, maybe that wasn't the best way to start. Sorry, I'm just nervous." You smiled sheepishly, scratching at your cheek and moving your eyes elsewhere.

You had the ball in his court, and Katsuki wasn't sure how to play. He felt clammy and weird, his chest doing that weird thing again. Except this time, it was worse. It felt like his heart was working overtime.

"Nervous? Why?"

"Well... We don't really talk too much with one another, right? I was just trying to learn more about you, I guess."

You wanted to know more. About him.

"I like spicy food." Katsuki blurted out. He didn't really think about the words, just letting them escape mindlessly. "I like food so spicy that it hurts. I used to make this hot curry for my mom and dad, and one time my dad couldn't get past the first bite because he complained it was going to burn off his taste buds. But I called bullshit."

The silence only stretched for a few seconds, but to Katsuki, it felt like an eon. Then, you laughed. It was the first time you had ever laughed at something he said. Not Dunce Face, not Hair-For-Brains. Him. Katsuki Bakugo. It was like bells, light and airy. Soon, he was chuckling beside you. Your laugh was contagious.

"I also like spicy food, but maybe not that spicy. I also really like sweet stuff."

"Like strawberries?"

You tilted your head at him. That curious tilt. "Yeah! How did you know? That's my favorite."

"You smell like strawberries."

Oh shit. Oh, fuck. That sounded so weird, and by the time the words registered in Katsuki's brain, they had already left his lips. And now you heard them too, and you also probably thought he was weird, and shit fuck god damnit-

"Oh! You have a really great sense of smell! It's a new shampoo. I think you're the first to point it out!"

"Yeah, it's pretty fucking strong. It smells good, though! I wasn't saying you smelt bad or anything like that, just that it was the first thing I noticed when you came up. Shit, not that I'm saying I sniff you or something fucking weird like that, just-" Katsuki was stuck rambling, and he wished for lightning to strike him down.

You placed a hand on his arm, and Katsuki zipped right up. "Hey, that's amazing that you noticed that! Honestly, you have a scent too. But yours isn't strawberries. Sorry to burst your bubble." Now you were joking with him. You started giggling at your own joke, and Katsuki wanted to bury his face in his hands to hide the redness spreading across his cheeks. How were you so goddamn cute?

"Damn. Don't know how I'll survive." He sounded too dry, but you didn't seem to mind as you graced him with your laughter. And then, something popped up in his brain. If he did have a "crush", then maybe he should just...

"Hey, have you heard of that new cafe that just opened last week? It's supposed to have a whole strawberry menu. Or some shit like that. Seasonal thing or whatever."

You perked up, eyes having that familiar sparkle. "Really? That sounds amazing! Maybe I can ask Mina and Jiro to come with me, or even Uraraka. She'd probably love it, too!"

Katsuki deflated, but only a bit. "Yeah, those are good ideas. But I bet someone else might wanna go with you."

"Oh, yeah? I guess it wouldn't be nice to leave Kirishima out, since he likes strawberries, too. Or maybe you mean Sero? He always talks about trying new foods. Oh! How about..." You were rambling now, listing off classmates to join you. But the only one you never mentioned was Katsuki. And it was starting to frustrate him. He kept his cool, up until you just had to mention-

"Midoriya could come, too! He's always so-"

"Hell, will you please shut up? I was trying to ask you out on a date!"

It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock as you just... stared at him. And Katsuki Bakugo quickly realized he fucked up. "God damnit, I didn't mean to yell at you. Fuck, I was just trying to-"

"Yes. Yes, I'll go with you."

He snapped his neck so quickly towards you, he was surprised it didn't break. "What? Really?"

"Katsuki. Of course, I'll go with you. I think it would be really fun. And I was being honest when I said I wanted to get to know you better."

"Oh... Okay. Great. That's great."

You glanced around the room. "How about now?"

"Now? Hell yeah. Let's go. Fuck the study group."

Katsuki bolted out of his seat a bit too excitedly, and you stifled back a grin. No need in embarrassing him. You pushed yourself up, grabbing his arm once more. "C'mon. Dessert's on me today. But I'll expect you to pay for both of us next time."

Next time. You were already planning for a next time before the "this time" had begun. Katsuki couldn't stop his grin, standing up a bit straighter. "I think I can deal with that. Let's go. We don't have all day."

It wasn't until weeks later that Katsuki actually asked you out. Officially. But it only took him a day to find out that Kaminari and Mina had made a bet about the first date, with Mina declared the winner. Let's just say her winnings benefitted Katsuki more than her.

Especially since he ended up taking the cash for himself and your guy's second date. Thanks, Mina.

[onesmolbean49]

Toshinori craving the warmth of someone, anyone who would ever be willing to hold him, the real him. It’s been so long and now that he’s older, he misses it. Touch starved, he has to surround himself with pillows and blankets, but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.

[bsydelver]

PART 2- Tamaki Amajiki x Alt/gothic reader.

———>part 1

COLLAB WITH @wolvwa <333 (best plot inventor for real)

MAY BE OOC BUT BARE WITH ME.

Note: Okay, Im actually kinda excited for this chapter bcs Wolfa made such a cute plot for this part so trust us please with this one even if I barely write/wrote fluff 🙏

Warnings (?): Writer should not be labelled a writer, english isn’t my first language, reader slowly falls in love kinda, Mirio and Nejire just being Tamaki’s friends idk how to explain, reader is cute lowkey wanna be Tamaki (hj)

Summary: The four of you are hungry and go to a nice place then follow up and buy things from the cafeteria on campus until something happens and- okay just read.

As Mirio stepped in, a call for him that Nejire did and filled the room with followed. Tamaki lifted his head up too to look at Mirio who was visibly waiting for the room to calm down before fixing his mouth to say anything. Before you could greet him, you couldn’t help but notice the huge bag he was carrying on his back: what would a student be carrying that was this big for some chill out at a dorm with friends, you being you of course, you chose to question him about it; you always started your known interrogations with something simple, “Hey Mirio!” Nejire and Mirio both looked at you and it didn’t take long before Tamaki joined them (he couldn't miss this opportunity after all), “Y/n! How are you?” Mirio replied back, it was simple as you had initially expected- that exact moment was the time to actually ask: “If you don’t mind me asking; your bag looks rather bigger today, what do you exactly have in there?” your tone came off concerned for some reason which made the two other people who had been present before Mirio’s entrance in the dorm at that moment seem even more invested than you were, “Oh yeah!” Mirio let down his bag which kind of made a loud bang on the floorboards but it was much quieter than you predicted it would be actually, “I brought a board game for us to play,” as Mirio said that, you could see stars form in Nejire’s eyes and you couldn’t resist letting out a half smile: they were your closest friends after all and seeing them happy made you happy as well.

Due to Nejire’s obvious excitement, al though not expressed by her directly, Mirio layed out the game without any context and just ordered you guys to pair up into two groups of two people- but he basically hadn’t given you the choice as he had picked Nejire immediately, leaving you and Tamaki. Dice started rolling and true rivalry begun, there was nothing labelled as friendship when it came to you and the group’s board game matches. The only trustable person you had was Tamaki and you didn’t want to waste that, you both gave each other mutual ‘time to finish this’ glances through out the games and a few smiles as well, mostly from your side- but Tamaki had mustered up the courage a few times to actually form some as well. The thing that intrigued you the most though during this intense game were the (not-very-well-hidden) hidden smirks and glances Mirio and Nejire gave Tamaki: were the three of them planning on 3 versus 1 against you, were you just that good?! You decided not to look too much into it though as one hour had went by and your victory was officially confirmed and Mirio packed up the board with a quote-on-quote “disappointed face” that you just scoffed at in a playful manner. You looked at the person who preformed amazingly, Tamaki, and signaled him to do a fist bump which resulted in a few seconds of silence before he raised his fist up to complete the bump part of it.

Mirio’s stomach rumble escaped as he was putting the game back in his bag, you rolled your eyes and did a small giggle, “I heard this new place opened and does deliveries to our campus and we don’t need approval if I remember correctly since they partnered with principal Nezu!” You blurted out in order for you not to seem evil for that giggle that came out from you earlier accidentally (or on purpose, only you knew the answer to that); the group all agreed to your suggestion and after you contacted that new restaurant, you all ran out of the dorm with the idea that by the time you reach the drop off spot at campus, the order would be there.

You guys were right for once actually and you took the order and rushed to your ‘signature’ bench to eat there before anybody else could sit there and claim the place. Everyone slowly opened their order like it was some mysterious box, and they technically were since you had never tried from this place. You noticed that Tamaki had looked at you before taking a bite of his meal, you just smirked at the thought of it and how cute yet simple he was, both were traits you never thought would be coming from him at the time you didn’t know him as much (maybe cute but on a minimal scale, MAYBE). Everyone was digging in, especially Mirio, and you could tell it wouldn’t be the last time you guys would order from that place. Everyone’s mouthes were too full to say anything, all of you guys basically looked like hamsters with nut-stuffed cheeks that were puffed out; Tamaki pulled out a tissue as he chewed and after he swallowed, you could see him start mouthing something to you, “Y/n,” he didn’t continue and just pointed at a spot on his own left cheek, it was obvious now that you think about it but at that moment you were too focused on something else to process what Tamaki was hinting towards. Tamaki layed down his food and took off his gloves, still holding the same tissue, and leaned towards you- gently wiping the parallel spot on your face which he had been pointing at on his own face previously, his fingers were cold yet gave you warmth and before you could thank him: he pulled a similar product to the one you used for your makeup and handed it to you, "I carry this with me just in case of emergencies for you," you smiled at the small yet thoughtful gesture and properly thanked him after swallowing your food which you had been slowly chewing on since Tamaki’s wiping without taking notice.

You all headed back to your dorm and not Nejire’s this time after the much-needed meal with initial plans on a movie night with snacks- recommended by Nejire and Mirio. Something was missing though; it was the snacks part of the whole thing, Nejire quickly took action for this horrible “mistake” she had done and informed you and the group that her and Mirio would be going out to buy some and that Mirio needed to go out anyways to get his bag from Nejire’s dorm. You closed the door behind them with an exhale and looked behind you to find the indigo-haired boy sitting on the floor of your room in awe of the uniqueness of it, there was a contrast between you and him: he was always really quiet and just kept to himself unless you were really close to him and you found that fascinating to you, but you were open about your personality and interests and that always seemed to amaze Tamaki and admire you. Your footsteps quickly cut his observation off though and he had realized you both were alone and for God knows how long you’d be, Nejire and Mirio were menaces for this and they knew exactly what they were doing. You looked down at the distressed Tamaki and decided to sit down beside him to offer some comfort if needed, “Wait I have an idea,” something came over you and you opened the record player you had to practically beg the school to allow for months before they actually did to play ‘Lucretia My reflection’ (wr:sorry had to pull out one of my favs) you put out your hand for Tamaki and pulled him up and started moving ‘with’ him to the beat, you realized he was lost though and decided to take it upon yoursef to be the one to teach him dancing. You told him to follow along with your steps and taught him all you knew and all with a smile on both of your faces. Tamaki was always captivated by you, everything about you felt so different to him yet attractive and to have the opportunity to participate in the uniqueness you carried within you was an honor to him.

[schpeenor]

Dabi and Spinner play fight.. like a LOT… I’ve been writing some fics and here’s a WIP that’s a case in point. I guess in this case it was a mistake in communication but still!!

The only way you can really tell if they’re play fighting is if you hear Spinner screaming or something, of course if you can listen closer you’ll hear Dabi too but Spinner usually outclasses Dabi in volume.

BEHOLD:

“Why you little—“ Dabi starts his way a little fast for his liking, prompting Spinner to throw his hands up in surrender.

“WAIT.” He yelps, each trepidatious step Spinner made backward to begin with, Dabi voided by taking steps twice the size. If he was judging honestly, the pyro was coming on quite strong, and Spinner was not keen on being conked, so was it that bad for him to send Dabi garbling to the floor with a light jab to the throat? He realizes quickly, big yeah, because someone like Dabi was bound to retaliate even if he’s crumpled on the floor hacking. All Spinner could think was that he’s lucky Dabi hadn’t thought to use his inferno and make grilled meat out of him. Instead he kicks the gecko’s legs out, sending him straight onto his ass with a grunt.

“Agh…” Dabi’s voice is hoarse when his groan comes out, but he lunges forward and grabs Spinner by the ankle, “The hell was that for?!”

He tugs, albeit weakly because his other hand is still nursing his throat. Spinner, meanwhile, starts clawing at the hardwood floor like he forgot his sticky fingers exist all the while he gives Dabi a panicked answer, “YOU- YOU LOOKED LIKE YOU WERE GONNA ROCK MY SHIT!”

“Since WHEN, dumbass?”

“SINCE… I don’t know! You just looked real handsy!”

“I’m about to get REAL handsy now.” The ravenette hisses, and pulls him with all his might, “Get over here, you little shit..” Spinner slides a considerable distance, still shrieking as Dabi’s in prime tackling range, and he certainly tackles Spinner. While the ravenette pulls on Spinner’s hair, he flails under him and grits out,

“Listen, you were the one who started this, not me!” Dabi climbs on top, and pins both flailing arms with his knees. When he’s steady looming over Spinner’s body, he grabs a pinch-full of his cheeks, giving a relatively ferocious tug. Spinner looks stupid with his cheeks pulled out a ways, gums and teeth galore. He tries to wiggle his arms from under Dabi’s knees, but it’s no use when he grounds them down harder.

“And you hit me first.”

“WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO!” Of course he knows what else he could’ve done. If he were more rational, he would have remembered that Dabi wasn’t the hitting type, maybe a flick or so but it wasn’t throat punch worthy.. on the other hand, maybe jabbing Dabi in the throat was a little liberating giving his smartass nature. But even as he realizes this truth quickly — he’s in the wrong — Spinner continues arguing.

[heich0e]

touya always has your baby in his arms, or strapped to him in a carrier, or balanced on his hip when baby gets big enough to hold onto papa too. he wears that baby like his favourite accessory. like one of the essential items he can't leave the house without; phone, wallet, keys, baby.

you notice it after a while: if they're both conscious (or at least touya is,) that baby is in his arms. you think it's sweet, how could you not? he can barely stand being away for a couple of hours, even if he knows the baby is in the best possible care—shouto has proven himself to be a surprisingly proficient babysitter, at least under fuyumi and natsuo's tutelage.

and then one night you find touya asleep in the arm chair in baby's room, pulled up alongside the cot that recently had its bars removed, since baby really isn't much of a baby anymore—though that's still hard to believe most days. he's sprawled out sideways in the chair, his wiry arms and legs dangling, and in his sleep, touya's hand is resting overtop of baby's chest as it rises and falls with steady, easy breaths.

and, for the first time, you realize that maybe the reason touya feels so attached to your child—the reason he can't bear to be apart—is because he knows what it's like to be a child that wasn't held when he needed it. to be a child without a pair of open arms to offer comfort, or a hand on his chest to ease his dreams. and though there are many things that touya may never be able to do, and many ways that he'll inevitably stumble as he learns what it takes to be a father, he knows he never wants his child to know what that feels like.

[sweet-honey-tears]

▪️I am Your Safety▪️

Villain Deku x Quikless!Fem!Reader

OverView: Villain Deku with a quirkless reader who ends up calling on him for help.

Warning: Swearing, kidnapping if you squint

Inspiration: I recommend watching this short! Give them some love! It’s very good.

-🍯

It was a mistake, a rookie, quirkless mistake. One that could leave you dead, hurt, or worse. To leave the safety of your home for a pointless ingredient for dinner, one you could easily go without but stubbornly won't. Ginger root, a simple ingredient for stir fry, had led you here. Barely 5 minutes from your home, yet in a completely new area.

Hidden behind your cozie apparent laid a maze of buildings, dark alleys weaving between their roads. It wasn't the best part of the city. But with what you could afford, it was the best for you and closest to your work. It was lucky you even found housing in the bustling city of Musutafu. Tho, with the constant casualties, maybe not so much. It seemed the city took an odd turn when pro-heroes DynaMight and Deku left hero society. Intern, causing considerable other heroes from their graduating year to also leave. The news turning many of the streets, especially yours, into less-than-stellar areas.

"You shouldn't live there; I could pay for you to be where the stars are." Izuku had told you, his green eyes shining against his dark circle.

"I'll be fine Izuku! Plus, I know you'll be there to protect me!" you had cooed. It was dangerous, both to live in that area but talk to the leader of the 'New Age' with such a teasing tone. Anyone else would be dead, but not you. Izuku signed, placing his hands on your sides and looking down at you. He searched your face, trying to find any possible crack he could talk you into his idea.

You'll be the death of me, doll." he groaned dramacitly. His wild green eyes glanced back down at you. "Just don't leave the house at night, okay, doll? Promise me." "I promise ZooZoo!" you had so gleefully said, finger fixing his red suit tie.

The old conversation rang in your head; that was before you both got into a heated fight. One that caused you to leave the house in despair.

He had called you weak, and a joking argument turned heated quickly. "I'm not helpless, Izuku!" "buy you are!" It'd been a lonely few days at your small apartment. Sitting on the decrepit couch that had begun to seem too big. Maybe it was your depressed stupor that led to this rooky mistake.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" you whispered. What was the point of getting an ingredient for a dish if you'd never get to even make it back home? You had been too stubborn, and it was only dusk at the time. You had time to run down to the store and grab it before it turned dark, you debated. You had managed to grab the ginger, quickly cashing out and beginning your trek to your apartment. “Come on… come on…” you whispered, begging the sun to go slower. "C'mon!" your feet picked up their base.

"Hey, pretty!" a voice called from the ally.

"Crap". Your feet picked up their pace.

"Come on! We just wanna talk." you waited for the sound of Izuku's voice to help you, to tell them you're both busy, and flash his neon eyes, but there was only silence. Right, he was gone.

"Sorry, I need to go. Have someone waiting for me." it was a lie, but a hopeful one. Maybe if they knew you were expected somewhere they leave, you'd have someone looking for you; you weren't worth the trouble. You were wrong.

"Oh, cmon I'm sure they can wait a bit."

Your eyes squeezed shut as you pressed your hand to the brick wall. In your panic, you had lost track of where you were, instead ending up in a place you knew nothing about, in an ally with a dead end. "Fuck fuck FUCK!" you cried, palm slamming on the wall as you slowly slid down. Tears burned your eyes as you sat on the ground, watching the predators creep ever closer to its prey.

The scruffy ally light above you barely made the two men visbale. You watched one's arms turn sharp as skin-colored blades as he inched closed with a sickening grin. The others, you couldn't tell what their quirk was, if they had one at all, but he held a gun tightly. That was deadly enough to a quirkless user civilian like you.

"Now come on pretty, just come with us peacefully, and ya won't get hurt. I'm sure your family will pay to get you back." "and if they don't, well, take great care of you." you had long dropped your canvas bag and, ironically, the ginger root you ventured out for. Yet they hadn't stopped for the bag, and considering neither held it, their intentions had never been to get the bag. Your body shook, and Li quivered, face becoming hot with fear and horror. You watched as they inched to you, your body caving in more. "Izuku…" you whispered as though a small prayer.b "Izuku!"

You screamed, your throat raw from tears and its pitch. The men seemed to pause at your sudden outburst before appearing to become angered at your choice to yell. "Fucking whore- shut it!" "Izuku!" you wailed, body caving as you waited for pain. "IZUKU," you flinched as you heard a loud pop and felt something small shower your body. The dingy ally light shattering as something sharp and quick hit it. Another boom sounded, a shriek leaving your lips at his proximity to your head. Green light slammed into the wall behind you, sending cracks up the foundation. "Doll…" "Zoo-coo" you rasped out. You opened your eyes, staring at the ground below you, watching it light up with the lumination of green flicker lighting. Slowly, your body sat up, your tears blurring the gory sight before you. He stood there, dressed in a suit vest and shoes, green hair not even out of place. He seemed more displeased and worried than angered.

"I-km sorry! You were right!" you shuffled, body caving again as tears raked your body. Fear still gripping every bone. "I should have listened! I'm sorry I left! I'm sorry I yelled!" you cried. The realization of how helpless you were fully settled itself upon you.

"Sh shh, Dolly, it's okay."

His body bent forward as he effortlessly picked you up. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you squished yourself closer. "I've got you." he calmly coded, kicking a limp arm out of his path as he walked you both out of the ally. "You're moving in with me tonight." it was firm, a demand, no room to argue, not that you could or would. Your tearful state leaving you in hiccups. "I need to keep my doll safe, and you're only safe with me."

[ochako-deserves-better]

Random MHA headcanons that I can't put anywhere else:

-Fuyumi HATES Hawks. He consistently makes "Your dad is hot" jokes and she can't stand him for it. When she finds out that Hawks had a fling with Touya she loses her mind. Whenever he's over, she uses her Quirk to cool Hawks coffee to an undrinkable temperature just to mess with him.

-Jirou secretly likes bubblegum pop. The only person in class that knows that about her is Mina, who always sends her recommendations.

-it took Tsu an embarrassingly long time to learn how to tie her shoes. She blames the fact that the laces on children's shoes were too short to wrap around her fingers.

-Toga never liked the color pink until she started associating it with Ochako.

-Iida is a fast runner, but a naturally slow walker. He forces himself to walk faster for efficiency.

-Momo likes painting. Her favorite thing to paint are Matryoshka dolls, as homage to the first thing she made with her Quirk. She is currently painting a set that look like her classmates, sorted by their actual heights

-one time, the girls of 1-A slathered a bunch of foundation of Mina to see what she'd look like if she wasn't pink. Mina used it to prank Denki into believing she was a new student. He believed her to the point that he asked where the new girl went after Mina showered.

-Kirishima has a rock collection, but specifically they are rocks that didn't break when he tried to crush them in his hands.

[gardenofnoah]

it was never ending (pt. 1)

wc: 5.3k (pt. 1 only) tags (whole series): bakugou x reader, oc character death (not reader), grief, healing, found family, getting together, slow (medium?) burn, child rearing, descriptions of pregnancy, morning sickness, friends to lovers, confessions, eventual smut

notes: i've had the idea for this in my drafts for the last 82 years. i blacked out and wrote this whole thing in like 12 hours. fingers crossed for the same motivation demon to visit me in my sleep for part 2.

summary: when the father of your child passes away suddenly, you get by with a little help from your friends (and a really intense Bakugou).

There was a part of you that already knew, as soon as the phone rang. At 7pm, there was no reason to assume it wasn't benign, like your mother calling to confirm what you'd already told her you'd bring to brunch the following weekend.

It wasn't, though. You knew it wouldn't be.

The drive is something that happens to someone else. You see it in flashes. Distantly, you think that it's probably not safe, driving in this state with an infant in the backseat. But you don't really have another option—or at least not one that occurs to you.

A nurse—a young woman, who can't be any older than early twenties—meets you in the lobby. She's practiced in her stoicism. There is no forced smile, no apologies—just a quiet invitation to follow her. She leads you with a hand on your elbow, like she's expecting you, too, to collapse, down a series of hallways that you don't bother to notice. You wonder how long she's been doing this, and what the impact of it might be on someone so young.

A doctor is waiting for you in the room. He immediately launches into a lengthy, medical term-laden explanation of the two hours prior to your arrival. You hear none of it, and you're not even looking at him.

Behind him, a thin sheet covers the body of the father of the child in your arms.

-

You turn your phone off.

You have to, really. The barrage of well-intentioned but poorly timed (and often poorly worded) texts and calls and emails renders the thing unusable.

The number of days that've passed between today and the hospital are of little consequence to you. You've survived on autopilot for however many have passed but the bone-deep exhaustion you feel has spread deeper still. Through the wall, Kaede cries, but there's nothing left in you to get your body to move. Kaede, named so at her father's request.

She was an angry thing, born with no small amount of indignancy at the act of bringing her earthside, against her will. She was red and raging for the first several months of her life, and while it exhausted you, Takeshi had taken it in stride.

"My darling girl," you'd hear him through the monitor, cooing to your daughter as she pitched a fit for the umpteenth time that night, "it won't always be so bad."

How would you convince her of the truth in that now?

The sound of knuckles against your front door jars you out of your half-consciousness. It seems it's only a courtesy, though, because you hear it open immediately after. It dawns on you that you haven't thought to check if it was locked since you've been home. Regrettable, especially now. Some distant alarm ringing in your mind tells you that should be concerned that someone has just entered your home, but there's a wall up right now. In an effort to keep you safe, your brain has blocked out everything.

Through the wall, a voice coos to your daughter. You recognize it as Mina's, and you let out a quiet breath. You brain loosens its grasp for an instant and relief floods you. You'll get up and thank her, when you can.

There is a chorus of voices, telling you that there is more than one person in your house right now, but in the absence of a threat, your eyes flutter closed. The door to your bedroom opens, and you blink hard at the light that seeps in over the massive body in your doorway.

The door closes just as quickly, and in the darkness, the body moves around the room to the other side of the bed—the empty one. There is a weight—your body dips with it minutely, and then settles again. You close your eyes, this time to relieve the sting you feel for the first time since getting home. With another breathing body as its witness, the grief hits you so suddenly you can taste it.

"Katsuki," you whimper, feeling him at your back. Familiar arms reach for you, pull you in.

"Y'r alright," he murmurs, pressing the underside of his jaw into your hair. The pressure on all sides squeezes something loose in you. You suck in a gasping breath, and then it leaves you—broken apart and limp. He holds you while you cry—keeps you there, tethered only to him in this storm.

_

Once the hurt comes, it lingers.

You suppose you can be grateful for that. People do crazy things under the burden of pent up emotion, and you can't afford to come unglued. Not like that, anyway. But while grief pulls you apart in different directions, your friends flit around your peripheral. You'd feel guilty if you could—for not being able to do what you should be able to—but few things get past the mountain of mourning that keeps you pinned to your bed.

They seem to have worked out shifts among themselves. Mina in the morning to get Kaede up and fed, Kirishima and Denki in the evening to get her bathed and ready for bed. Izuku comes around most afternoons with rattle toys and books to keep her engaged, talking and playing to keep her brain developing in your absence. Shielding her from this.

Katsuki doesn't leave.

He sleeps on the couch. Or you assume he does—you've not ventured out of your bed for much of anything. He's in and out of your room during the day, always with little meals or water or reminding you to shower, to get up and walk around the room if you can. It's hard and you cry often, but right now he's not his brash, abrasive self. He's gentler than you've ever seen him, a hand at your back to steady you, his voice low and grounding.

Your relationship with Katsuki is complicated, but not in a bad way. You'd met him, along with the rest of the group, in college. The civilian track at UA landed you a cushy office job—one you promptly turned down due to Katsuki's outrage at you working anywhere that wasn't with him. He'd gotten you a job as a resource coordinator at Jeanist's agency—which was something you found you really enjoyed. Your quirk was less than impressive—similar to Shouto's but not nearly as powerful, you could really only bring tea just shy of a boil. It certainly wouldn't be saving anyone's life, but in this role, you could help. Displaced families needed temporary housing, victims of violence needed access to affordable counseling, the injured needed connected to hearing aids and wheelchairs and prosthetics, ongoing care.

It was hard work, but you felt a certain privilege in being the one to do it. It was an honor to walk along side someone in their most vulnerable moments, and you tried to do it with as much grace and compassion as you could. When Katsuki was big enough to start his own agency, you followed him there. He gave you room to grow, and now, you head a team of community crisis response workers.

You haven't thought about work since the hospital. It's fascinating, how quickly something that matters so deeply to you can leave your mind. Katsuki hasn't mentioned it—in fact, he's not said much of anything, aside from his quiet prompting every few hours. You know that he's only doing what seems so inherent to him, and if you had the energy to, you'd tell him to go home—to take a break. The energy isn't there, though—all you can do is follow his directives to keep yourself alive.

Katsuki has always been protective of you. You're not sure when it started. You'd always been drawn to him, and there was seldom a time when you were somewhere that he wasn't. Your mother took to making up the spare bed for him when you'd come home for weekends and holidays, because it was a guarantee that he'd follow you through the screen door like a shadow. In your third year, she started asking, not so in jest, when the wedding would be.

When you met Takeshi, it was a surprise to everyone. But he was kind, and personable, and the newly-pro heroes adopted him into the fold.

Takeshi knew what Katsuki meant to you, and you were grateful for his patience. While his relationship with you was neatly defined, a specific box in your heart with his name on it—Katsuki was not. He was in everything that you were, and it was something that Takeshi chose not to interfere with. You're certain it was difficult, but he took it in stride.

He really was a kind man.

Within a year of being together, you found out you were pregnant. It was a shock—but what news filled you with terror, Takeshi received with utter delight. You were only a year out of college and in no way financially stable, but his joy left an impression on you. With each day, your child grew, and so did your tentative excitement. Takeshi was through the roof—as were your heroes.

Katsuki was the one to figure it out first. You'd been absent from a few of the group's weekly dinners at the bar in town. When you finally showed up, dressed in a big hoodie that covered most of you, you'd politely declined all offers of beer and stuck to stealing fries off of his plate.

"You pregnant?" he'd asked, not bothering to lower his voice. You blinked up at him, caught of guard.

"I—uh. Yeah."

You could've heard a pin drop, with how silent the table had fallen. You lowered your eyes—uncomfortable, unsure how to proceed—and reached for another fry. Mina broke the silence first.

"Oh my god!" she'd shrieked, already in tears. The rest of your friends followed in suit, cheering and reaching for you across the table in some strange attempt at a hug, at comfort.

You'd looked back up to Katsuki, who'd been strangely quiet. His eyes held a question—something undeniably concerned.

"It's okay," you told him, smiling softly. Squeezing his knee under the table, you couldn't miss how tense the muscle felt under your hand. "Honest."

_

A month crawls by, and you find that you can't sleep in your bed anymore.

After a few, agonizing hours of tossing and turning, and pointedly avoiding the other side of the bed, enough is enough. You stumble in the dark to the living room, trying your hardest to be quiet. It's your sniffling that wakes him up.

"Y'alright?" slurred, endearing. It would make you smile if you weren't crying. You shake your head, though his eyes aren't open to see it.

"Move over," you whisper, already pulling the blanket out from under his hip. Katsuki shifts, rolling to his side and lifting an arm for you to slot yourself underneath.

His heart beat, steady and slow, taps against your temple. You close your eyes and imagine the shape of it—the chambers that expand and contract and keep him alive. The wave of gratitude is immense and sudden and brings another sting to your eyes.

He doesn't go back to sleep—you can tell by his breathing.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, watery and broken. The arm around your waist tightens.

"Enough." His voice is gravely with sleep, but that's not all that's there. There's an edge to it, and you know that he's worried. "Try t'sleep."

_

Takeshi had made it a habit to talk with Kaede before she was born.

Each night, he would shuffle down the bed and speak softly to your growing stomach, filling her in on the events of the day.

"We wanted to go on a picnic today, but you made your mother sick." He'd pat your belly, shaking his head with a tsk. "That wasn't very nice, little girl."

Pregnancy was hard. You'd wished to be like those women that glow—that love being pregnant, that feel all connected to their bodies and the earth and the universe and whatever—but it was awful. Your ankles swelled and your back ached and you were sick all of the time.

Takeshi worked a 9-5 job outside the city, so Katsuki would stop by to check on you. It became something like a routine. You'd spend all morning throwing up, and then Katsuki would stop by and spend most of the afternoon here, feeding you anti-nausea medication and small bites of food (you'd really only wanted toast, which would launch Katsuki into a several minute tirade about how you'd kill yourself and the baby if you didn't eat a god damned vegetable. This was also part of your routine).

Katsuki's quirk was surprisingly helpful. It took some convincing ("You're not going to fry the baby Katsuki, Jesus Christ,"), but you found that if you had a layer between you, his hands could act as a high-powered heating pad. He'd sit behind you on the floor, one hand on your lower back, the other scrolling through his phone. You'd keep your head between your knees to stave of the nausea.

"You nervous?"

It was the first time he'd really asked. You rested your cheek on your knee, looking back to catch the blonde spikes of his hair in your peripheral.

"Honestly? Yeah. Really nervous."

He'd hummed, something noncommittal and gruff. You let the silence stretch on for another moment before breaking it again.

"I'm worried I'm going to poop on the table."

He'd snorted, and you could feel the eye roll from behind you. "That's what y'r worried about?"

"I mean, yeah. And the possibility of irreparably fucking up my child, I guess."

He'd gone quiet again, and you'd let your eyes close. Content for the moment.

"You'll do fine," he'd said, too quiet for him. The heat spread wider, his other hand joining the first at the small of your back. Kneading softly. "Kid's got a good mom."

_

She sits in front of you now, her chunky legs kicking wildly inside the cloth seat of her jumper. You watch her little toes feel out the ridged bottom, curling around the textures. It might be the first time since Takeshi died that you have really spent time with your child.

Kaeda grunts around the teething ring in her mouth, gurgling happily as Mina sits next to her—pink fingers pressing light up buttons on the tray to catch your daughter's eye. It works for a few seconds, but you sniff, and Kaeda's eyes find you.

"Dah!" the teething ring goes flying as she reaches for you, her head not quite catching up to the jerky movements of her body.

You smile at her, and the stretch of it feels foreign. "Hi, my baby."

It's effort, but you stand, reaching to grab under her armpits and hoist her out of her seat. Her fingers tangle in the strands of your hair. She seems bigger—heavier than she was before. It makes your chest ache. She sits on your hip as you spin her slowly, a sort of sashay around the perimeter of the rug.

"My big girl. Have you had fun with Mina?"

Katsuki watches you with lazy interest from his spot on the couch. Mina immediately busies herself with another task—folding blankets, cleaning up toys. You don't waste your breath telling her she doesn't have to. You'd already tried once, and she waved you off like a pesky fly.

"I'm not doing this because I have to, honey," she reminded you, not bothering to look up from pulling clothes out of the washing machine. "I want to."

At seven months, Kaeda has started to crawl. Or, sort of. It's more like an army crawl, with her little legs propelling her, in a way, across the ground. She gets antsy in your arms, and fusses to be put down.

"I hear ya, I hear ya," you murmur softly, bending to guide her to the soft ground. "Go nuts."

She does, squirming her way across the rug—right to Katsuki. She reaches where his arm hangs over the edge of the couch—and gives it a good, solid smack, her little palm splayed open across his skin.

"What th—y'little brat—"

He peers over the couch at her, and she squeals, clearly enamored by the game she's forced him into. She tries it again—winds up, determined, with her arm up by her head—but he snatches it up before it lands. This time it's a screech that leaves her, all of the air pushed out of her lungs to make room for the belly laugh that she dissolves into when he makes a big show of eating her grubby little fingers.

It was never a surprise to you that Katsuki was so good with Kaede. It was unexpected, though, how much he wanted to be around her. You'd asked about it once, after spending several moments watching him carry her around like a football and seemingly enjoying it, and he'd only shrugged.

"She's cooler than you, so."

You'd laughed, only a little indignant, shoving him lightly. He'd hissed at you to be careful, don't you see the fuckin' baby here, which made you laugh harder. It was absurd, this wall of a man toting around a tiny, slobbering infant.

She was just as enamored with him. She would seek him out anytime he was in her line of vision, often fighting her way out of your grasp to get to him. It reminded you of the way cats seem to flock to the one person that doesn't like cats—she'd picked the meanest looking man in the room and latched on.

Like mother, like daughter, you suppose.

_

"Do you have a name picked out?"

It was late—your head hung off the edge of the bed, which seemed to be the only position that didn't send acid reflux straight up your throat, oddly enough. Takeshi sat up at the other end, your feet in his lap while he pressed his thumbs into the soles of them.

"No," you told him honestly, "truthfully, I'm drawing a blank."

He'd hummed, hands moving up to get at your swollen ankles. "What about Kaede?"

"Kaede," you rolled the syllables around in your mouth, testing the shape of it. It felt nice. "How come?"

"I just—want her to be strong." It was thoughtful as it left him, hanging around in the air above your heads. "I want her to be like a maple tree."

"Like a tree," you repeated dryly, making him snort.

"You know! Like, rooted and strong. But able to change and sway in the wind, all that."

"Wow," you breathed, smiling, "you are so corny."

He sputtered, trying to defend himself, "It's not corny—!"

"Alright, alright," you reached down to pat the duvet, trying to placate him from afar, "Kaede. I like it."

_

Katsuki was the first one in the room after Kaede was born.

It was—unconventional—and you were made well aware of that by the open gawking of the nurses, but Takeshi didn't mind. You felt some guilt, fueled by the reaction of those around you, and told him as much.

"I'll have the rest of my life to hold her," he'd said. "I'll go grab him."

How sad it was to remember that moment now.

You'd closed your eyes for only a moment before you were stirred by a familiar hand on the crown of your head. You'd blinked and were startled to find him visibly concerned.

"You look like shit," he'd said, tilting your head to each side, as if to check for injury. It made you smile.

"Yeah, well, you push a watermelon out of the smallest orifice in your body and let me know how you feel."

He'd gagged, which made you laugh, which hurt.

"Oh, don't do that," you exhaled, long and controlled, "Everything hurts."

He'd gone quiet for a moment, watching you shift and settle back into the bed, wires and leads twisting and clanging off the plastic railing.

"Y'r okay?"

It made you smile. "I am. She's so beautiful, Kat. I can almost forgive her for totally wrecking me on the way out."

As if on queue, the child in question let out a grunt from her spot in the little plastic cradle—moving like a grub, swaddled. He looked at you for another long moment before rising to see for himself. He stopped, too far from the crib, and bent at the waist for a better view. You snorted.

"You can get closer, Katsuki. It's fine."

Another step toward her and he'd stopped again, clearly maxed out on his own comfort. The smile pulled at your cheeks so tightly that it ached.

He looked back at you, and then again to her. It was comical, how fascinated he'd seemed by the tiny person in front of him. And then, over his shoulder—

"You shit the bed?"

You groaned, bringing your hand up to cover your face, mindful of the IV. "I think I did."

His laugh was a crackling thing, echoing around the sterile walls of your room, and Kaede didn't stir at all.

_

When you step foot outside, it's immediately apparent how long it'd been since you last did.

It's a sort of sensory overload—the bright light and the birds and the passing cars and the knowledge that someone has been keeping up with your lawn while you rotted away inside.

From the shaky lines that cut into the grass at odd angles, you have a hunch it was Denki.

Mina accompanies you to the mailbox, as requested. Her arm, strong and assuring, looped through yours as she all but drags you down the short drive to the edge of the road.

You open the box, and immediately shut it.

All of it is for Takeshi.

"Oh sh—sugar," Mina hisses, as if you were not an adult with a fully formed (and often colorful) vocabulary. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't think about that."

You shake your head. It's an inevitable thing that you don't have the energy to waste the tears on. "Will you sit with me?"

You end up on the porch swing, the metal springs above your head creaking with each suspended shove of your toe off the porch. It's a nice day, you think, trying hard not to find that particularly egregious.

Inside, you hear the squeal of your daughter, followed by the grumbling of Katsuki. It sounds a bit like a lecture that Kaede seems to think is hilarious. Another laugh—this time Denki.

"I'm really glad you're all here," you say eventually, quiet under the buzz of the world around you. "I know it's hard to put your own lives on hold."

She reaches for you, threading your fingers together and pulling them into her lap. "It's not hard at all. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now. I know the boys feel the same."

You lean your head against her shoulder, the gentle swaying lulling you somewhere else—on a beach, maybe. With the wind in your hair and salt on your lips. Anywhere but the home that your child's dead father haunts.

"Has Bakugou left at all?"

You snort. "I don't think so."

She sighs, shaking her head. You can hear the smile in it. "He's a real mother hen, that one."

You smile, feeling fond. A mother hen, and your protector.

The breeze turns colder, and Mina shivers. You focus your quirk into the hand she holds—the first time you've used it in quite some time.

She sighs. "God, that's nice. Way better than Blasty's in there."

Her chin presses into the crown of your head when she opens her mouth to speak, and then closes it again. Suddenly she's a little tense, like she's trying to build up her nerve.

"You can say it," you offer gently.

"I was just wondering if you'd stay here."

You've thought about it. It's been hard not too, with the way you can barely get yourself to open your bedroom door at this point. You'd spent every night on the couch with Bakugou since that night.

"No." You speak quietly, as if it's a secret between you. It feels strange to say it out loud. You think, if Takeshi is lingering, you don't want him to hear this. "I just—I don't know where to go. We'd planned to raise her here."

Here, in the home that you love. In the home that you can't bear to spend one more night in.

"Did he have..." She trails off, reconsidering. "I mean, did you get a..."

"Yes," you say, already knowing what she's asking. "I was paid out last week. I put all of it away in an account for Kaede." You sigh, sitting up to straighten out the kink that now exists in your neck. "With my job, we're fine. It's more...the principle of the thing. This is her home."

Mina squeezes your hand gently. "She's a baby, honey. She won't remember it. This was your home."

You tilt your head back, willing away the sting of fresh tears and the irritation you feel at having done so well today until this point.

"Yeah," you sniff, closing your eyes, "it was."

_

Time passes in waves. Slowly, creeping, and then all at once.

The longer you're in the house, the more you realize you can't stay. You are certain of it, the first time you're left alone.

Katsuki had stepped out to grab dinner. You'd all but shoved him out the door, assuring him that you'd be fine for the 20 minutes it took to pick the food up.

"Y'need anything, you call." It was the fourth or fifth time he'd said it to you.

"Alright, alright," you tell him, trailing down the front steps behind him. "I will, I promise."

When you shut the door behind you again, there's a feeling of lethality to it—a debilitating silence that you haven't heard in four months.

You don't want to go any further into the house. You do, only to grab Kaede, and then you're right back outside. It starts to rain, and it feels fitting. You sit under the awning behind your daughter as she sticks her toes out into the drizzle, curling them with each drop that falls on her skin. You think about how overwhelming it must be as a baby—how new everything is.

It's less than 15 minutes later when Katsuki pulls into the driveway. He's out of his truck and in front of you in record time, frowning at you like he already knows something's wrong. Kaede reaches for him, and he scoops her up like it's muscle memory. He waits for you to talk. A moment passes.

"I can't be here anymore," you whisper, shaky. He looks at Kaede for a long moment, like she could have something offer on the topic.

"Alright," he says, reaching for the front door with his free hand, "pack a bag."

_

It takes you longer than you thought it would. You'll be back—you have to come back, because you can't take everything right now—but it feels final. The beginning of the true end. There's a framed picture of you and Takeshi at your baby shower on your nightstand. You consider taking it with you—instead, you turn it face down and move on.

By the time you manage to shove a hoodie, some shorts, a few pairs of underwear and your toiletries into a bag, Katsuki has already packed two bags for Kaede and put her in her carrier. You just look at him, wholly dumbfounded.

"You good?"

You look at him for another beat. "Yeah, fine."

_

The drive to Katsuki's isn't long. You follow him in your car, not wanting to leave it in your driveway. Kaede is with Katsuki, something you didn't fight him on.

You spend 10 of the 15 minute drive flipping through radio stations before you finally turn it off. You're left in silence, and you're now well and truly alone for the first time since Takeshi died.

You suck in a breath, trying to dislodge the thing that has lived in your chest everyday since.

"You knew something was wrong," you say, out loud, to no one. "You knew something was wrong, and you didn't tell me."

You picture him next you—mouth opening to respond, to defend himself. You beat him to it.

"It was preventable," your heart breaks again. "There was no reason—"

You'd tried to keep this at bay—the knowledge that Takeshi's death was meaningless. You hadn't heard a word the doctor said, but you'd read the pathologist's report. It was too hard, too much to process with everything else that needed tended to, but your brain seems to take advantage of every quiet moment you get.

"You left her without a father," your breath comes ragged, both hands gripping the steering wheel tightly to make up for the tears that threaten to block out your vision, "you—you left me,"

With impeccable timing, no sooner than you pull into Katsuki's apartment complex and park do you dissolve completely, curling in on yourself in your seat. It's crushing, this grief and this anger together inside a body that surely cannot hold all of it.

You don't see Katsuki when he approaches your driver's side door. You don't see him when he hesitates, one arm holding Kaede and the other outstretched as if you grab hold of you and pull you from your suffering himself. You don't see when he decides against it—when he turns around to leave you to do what you need to do on your own.

_

In a way, you start to feel lighter. Like something has shifted, like the boulder in your chest has fragmented just enough to let a breath through.

You get Kaede up on your own today. You let yourself linger over her, leaning on the side of the pack-n-play to watch her as she sleeps. Her little eyelashes frame her round cheeks, fluttering with whatever dream she's in the middle of.

The upturn of her nose, the slope of her forehead—these are things she gets from Takeshi. The curve of her eyes, the shape of her fingernails—those are yours. She is the most even mix of two people you’ve ever seen, and something about that makes losing Takeshi a little easier. It would’ve been a lot harder if she had simply taken his face. 

She stirs as if she’s felt your thorough examination. “Hey, sweetheart,” you coo, reaching down to pull her up. She lays her head down on your shoulder, sleepy, and something about it brings tears to your eyes so suddenly that you startle yourself. 

This tiny person that relies on you for everything. This little girl that fits so easily in your arms. She is yours, to keep safe and happy and content. She is a promise you made, both to Takeshi and yourself. She is the thing that will keep you going, even when you’re certain you cannot take another step. She is the thing you have to show up for, no matter what. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” your voice is tiny as it is watery, whispered into her hair, to her already sleeping form. You stand there, in the middle of Katsuki’s spare bedroom, rocking your child and letting the tears fall down in fat drops—and it feels like the most normal thing in the world. “I’m so sorry. I’m here.”

It’s only when you turn your head that you see Katsuki lingering in the doorway. You open your mouth to tell him that you’re alright, but you only manage something wounded, something pathetic and broken and painful. He’s in front of you in an instant, unwinding Kaede from your hold and putting her back into the pack-n-play, still sleeping. It’s only another second before he’s dragging you to him, nearly crushing you to his chest. It pulls another wave of tears from you, because it feels good. To be held, and to be held by Katsuki, who would reduce every source of your pain to ash if he could. He holds you like he means to keep you intact—to put you back together the best he can. The only person who has ever held you like this, meant it like this.

Six months, 13 days, and 11 hours after Takeshi dies, something changes.

part 2 soon. thanks for reading, love u. <3

[sigg-vbj]

Locker Room Talk

After a long day helping with the restoration efforts, Bakugo headed into the men's locker room built by Cementoss, designed for quick and easy access to whatever they needed. He gathered his spare clothes and headed for the showers, hoping for a moment of peace.

To his dismay, a group of heroes were chatting it up inside, their voices echoing off the walls. At first, their conversation was idle chatter, just talk, but soon it was directed at him. One of the men caught sight of him and nudged his friend. "Hey, that's that kid who fought that big guy, you know," he snapped his fingers, trying to jog his memory. "Ah, All For One."

"Yeah, that joint was sick! Saw how he caught that spear with his teeth!" another cackled, the sound mixing with the running water.

"Listen, all I'm saying is I wouldn't let her walk out the house like that," one of the men pointed out. The discussion flipped back and forth quickly, but Bakugo wasn't really paying attention.

"What about you, kid? You'd let your girl step out looking like this?" One of the guys shoved his phone in Bakugo's direction, showing a picture of a random girl. Bakugo glanced at it briefly before looking away, unimpressed. The picture wasn’t bad; it was just a few insecure guys trying to impress each other.

"Yeah, sure," Bakugo said dismissively as he dried his hair.

"Nah, he's saving face," another guy responded, and a few others nodded in agreement, causing Bakugo to glance back, irritation flashing in his eyes.

"Tell me you can't handle a bad bitch without telling me you can't handle a bad bitch," Bakugo retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The men were taken aback, their bravado faltering for a moment.

"Whoa, easy there, champ," one of them stammered, clearly not expecting Bakugo to fire back.

Bakugo shut the locker door with a sharp clang, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. "You idiots wouldn’t know a real woman if she slapped you across the face," he growled, turning to walk off to a more secluded area. The heroes stared after him, mouths agape, unable to come up with a retort.

As he moved further away, the tension in the room dissipated, replaced by a stunned silence. The heroes could talk all they wanted; Bakugo knew his worth and the strength of the bond he shared with Vanessa. That was all that mattered.

He found a quiet corner and let out a deep breath, a small smirk forming on his lips. Sometimes, putting those idiots in their place was almost as satisfying as winning a fight. Almost.

End

[cupofmiko]

LOVELY TO BE HERE (WITH YOU) - midoriya izuku x f!reader 

with midoriya izuku, some things have always been easy. other things, however, have not.

genre: a strangers to lovers to exes to lovers au, pro hero au | angst, fluff

warnings: aged up characters (you and Izuku go through your 20s during this fic), a right person wrong time fic, hurt/comfort, happy ending, Izuku is taller than you, insecurity, talks of a boss/employee relationship (nothing happens during that time), making out, some smut (fem!recieving oral, mating press, slight dom!Izuku?? some dumbification… not actually sure I’m just putting it in the warning just in case, use of “pretty girl” and “good girl”), mentions of an outside natural disaster, arguments, you and Izuku gets a little Mean during the argument, Bakugou and Kirishima are your Helpful Friends and Good Bosses, some recreational alcohol consumption at a party

word count: 22k 

a/n: vaguely inspired by that tiktok trend with the “ceilings” by lizzy mcalpine audio… if you know you know. this is so behind the trend lol it ended up so much longer than i thought it would be so a lot of this hasn’t been thoroughly read through i am sorry lol 

.

You are twenty-two years old when you get the email - an offer letter that confirms your acceptance for an entry level office assistant position at Deku’s agency. And for someone like you who is in the final year of university and has been looking for a job to get a head start on your career, this is a very exciting opportunity. 

Not only is it a foot in the door for the hero industry, a very popular and competitive industry for any young college student, but it is with Deku. The hero from UA, the one who has been destined for the top since he was a teenager. 

According to the hiring manager, Deku is officially returning back to Japan after spending his first few years post-UA abroad in different countries. Different contract work with hero agencies worldwide. But now, with several years of experience under his belt, Deku has decided to return back home and start up his own agency. 

It’s intended to start as a small agency, the hiring manager had explained to you, a small but multi-talented team who can take on different responsibilities. And you, young and enthusiastic, played up your retail experience and the tutoring jobs you took on during those earlier college years. 

Clearly, you talked yourself up well because now you stand in front of Deku’s agency - a moderately sized building whose simplicity is reflected in the warm earth tones inside. Something in your gut tells you that this is the first page of a brand new chapter. 

The beginning of your first day is slow and typical of any first day experience. You remeet the hiring manager who introduces you to your boss and your responsibilities, which will mainly involve managing the front desk and answering the phone and making appointments for Deku. It is a little overwhelming, but you mask that incoming anxiety with a determination to do well. 

Your afternoon is spent filling out information for email accounts, taxes, and pay. The phone rings a few times, and your boss lets you know what to do based on the different phone calls. For a top hero agency, it’s surprisingly normal. 

So normal, that you almost forget who you’re working for until he walks through the front door of the agency. 

You look up and immediately feel your breath catch in your throat because holy fuck, it’s Deku walking towards you. It’s very strange to see the boy you’ve only watched through a laptop screen stand opposite of you. He’s much taller than you thought. His suit is more detailed, his hair more fluffy, his muscles more defined in person. It’s strange, seeing someone the same age as you hold so much power and confidence in a single stance. But his gaze is open, kind, and curious when he looks at you. 

“Hi there!” he greets cheerfully, approaching your desk. “You must be the new office assistant! I heard you were starting today - welcome!! It’s nice to meet you!! Are you adjusting well?” 

You blink, feeling like your brain is lagging behind to process the fact that pro hero Deku is even talking to you. Then, you realize that he has asked you a question. You close your mouth (one that you hadn’t even realized you opened) and try to string together a sentence. “O-oh, thank you! And I’m doing well… thank you, Deku.” You test out the hero name. It sounds so strange saying it out loud. 

Deku laughs, a shy almost unexpected sound that makes something flutter in your chest. “I’m glad to hear that! And call me Midoriya. I’m glad to have you on the team!” His eyes flicker down, taking in the new lanyard you’ve received - it was part of your welcome package that is meant to hold your employee ID. “I can see you’ve already decorated your lanyard! I like your pin.”

Now you’re surprised for a multitude of reasons. Not only did he speak words to you, he’s actually continuing that conversation by noticing something you never expected a boss to notice. And he’s being sweet, warm, and welcoming. 

You look down at your lanyard, bewildered as if you’ve never been a lanyard before, and see the pin you’ve haphazardly attached to the fabric. Glimmering on the metal is a character from your favorite movie - Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle. “Oh, t-thank you!” you manage, feeling warm, partly with embarrassment of having to explain a private interest, and partly because Deku actually looks genuinely curious in what you’re talking about. “He’s from this movie I really like. Howl’s Moving Castle?” 

Deku ponders for a second. “Oh! Studio Ghibli right? I’ve never seen that one, but my friends introduced me to Spirited Away and I really enjoyed that one!” 

“That’s a good one too,” you reply, losing enough nerves to actually feel your lips curve up into a small smile. Deku traces the movement quickly with his eyes. “That one and Howl’s Moving Castle are probably some of my favorites.” 

He nods approvingly. “I’ll have to ask my friend to show that one to me someday.” He gets distracted momentarily by his phone, picking it up and frowning. “Ah, sorry, I have a meeting to get to,” he explains, putting the phone back down. “But it was really nice meeting you.” 

Your smile grows a little, your head bowing a little to see him off. “It was nice meeting you too. Midoriya.” 

He mirrors your smile, likely proud that you’re calling him Midoriya, before he walks towards the main office floor. 

The phone rings before your gaze can linger for too long. 

. 

A full month goes by before you accept it. You have a crush on pro hero Deku. 

To be fair, it’s hard not to have a crush on Midoriya. He’s just so open and sweet, thoughtful and considerate - a little shy, but reassuring enough to make you feel safe with just one smile. 

Honestly? It’s a little infuriating. After all, Midoriya is… well, he’s pro hero Deku!! He’ll help old grandmothers cross the street and save a truck from falling off a bridge and then tackle a villain the size of a building all within the same day. He carries so much greatness, so much power, yet so many expectations on just one pair of shoulders. You see it on the news, in the meetings you have to schedule for him. Everyone wants a piece of him. 

It’s harder now since he’s just starting up as a pro hero in Japan. There are things he must do, cases he must solve, and people he needs to save in order to climb that ladder and establish himself. 

But still, despite himself, he stops by your desk every day. Either at the beginning of your shift or towards the end. He’s always had a busy day - you can tell as much because you help manage some of his appointments. Yet he never shows his exhaustion. He comes by, same bright smile, always asking about your day and chipping away at your apprehension. 

It gets to the point where you’re comfortable enough finally sharing some interests with Deku rather than brush it off every time he tries to ask. You talk about the movies you like, the music you listen to, the dinner you cooked last night. Deku (Midoriya, you remind yourself time and time again) is always attentive. 

So, again, how could you not have a crush on Midoriya? 

And, to be fair, he doesn’t do much to quell that crush or fan the growing flames of affection you have for him. When he finds out that you really like that boba place thirty minutes away from the office, he starts bringing you a cup once a week. You try not to overthink the fact that he knows your exact boba order- down to the percentage of sugar you prefer. Or when he finds out you really like that Thai restaurant around the corner and starts bringing you your favorite when he knows you forgot to pack a lunch. 

It’s sweet. Midoriya is sweet, dangerously so. Considering you often only see him drop off food and drinks for you, it makes you wonder if… perhaps, he feels the same way. 

But a small, reasonable voice in your mind reminds you of a very important consideration: Deku was your boss. More than that, he was your boss’ boss. The big boss, if you will. There’s no way he could feel the same way, just from a moral standpoint. And even if you weren’t overthinking anything - a boss dating his employee? The scandals just write themselves. 

It’s another two months before you learn to leave your feelings on the backburner and write it off as nothing more than a puppy dog crush. Lots of people probably have a crush on Midoriya, you think bitterly, it doesn’t make you special and it definitely doesn’t warrant a crush back. 

Besides, you continue to think, Midoriya could have anyone he wanted in the country. In the world. There’s no way he’d settle with a measly secretary. He’s just doing these things because he’s a genuinely nice person - and it’s just convenient for him to make sure you’re eating proper meals and drinking proper (as proper as boba can be you suppose) drinks. 

It is officially four months that you’ve been working for Deku’s agency when you stay late for the first time. You’ve started taking on more responsibilities that take the form of helping organize paperwork and writing up data analytical reports for Deku and his small group of sidekicks. 

On the one hand, more work is great because it means your boss trusts you enough to handle important tasks. But on the other hand, it is stressful. Your perfectionist tendencies are not lost on you as you spend some extra time ensuring that a report is thoroughly. That means that by the time you are done, it is considerably later than your normal departure time. 

Your boss and other colleagues must have left during your autopilot drive to get everything done because the office is mostly empty by the time your brain catches up to the outside world. The exceptions are the janitor taking out the trash and the night shift sidekicks who are either getting ready for a nighttime patrol or are currently sitting at their desks. They say their goodbyes as you pack up to leave for the night, coat on and everything, before you head towards the building entrance. 

Only to find that it is pouring rain outside. 

You stop short, taking in the rain pittering and pattering onto the sidewalk and the roar of rainfall filling your ears. Normally, you don’t mind rain. But the fall is too heavy to walk through unscathed - a fate that looks inevitable for you considering you forgot your umbrella. 

You’re in the middle of wringing your hands together, debating whether or not you should just go for it, before you feel the agency doors open behind you. Then, a familiar voice calling your name. 

It’s Midoriya, looking bewildered at the sight of you. “What are you still doing here?” 

You blink back, equally as surprised. Last you had checked, Midoriya should have been long gone by now. “What are you doing here?” you quip back. 

“Well, I, uh, had to approve some of the reports my sidekicks wrote up before sending them to the police,” he explains, scratching at his hair. “But late nights are normal for me. I’ve never seen you work late before.” 

His inquisitive look leaves you warm with embarrassment. “I-I just wanted to make sure those data analytical reports were perfect before sending them for approval.” 

Midoriya ponders you for a moment, but he ends up smiling. “I appreciate you working so hard. I hope you’re planning to go home. Or at least planning to eat something.” 

You smile back sheepishly. “Guilty. I’m gonna go home- I have groceries that need to be cooked.” 

“Can I walk you to the station?” he offers, flashing his All Might umbrella towards you. 

You laugh. “Cute umbrella. And sure, that would be nice Midoriya.” 

He watches you for a moment. “Do you have an umbrella?”

“Oh!” you laugh again nervously. “No, I forgot mine at home. But it’s okay.”

Midoriya looks momentarily troubled at your predicament, but he smiles easily enough. “It’s okay! Here. We’ll share mine.” He opens up the umbrella and holds it over both of you. 

You still and immediately turn warm at the thought of sharing an umbrella with Midoriya. It seems too intimate of a situation to be in, all things considered. “O-Oh, don’t worry about me.” 

“How could I not?” he retorts, surprising you by wrapping an arm around your shoulder to bring you close. Though hesitate, your arms encircle his midriff. For the umbrella, you tell yourself, as you gaze up at Midoriya. He’s staring back down at you, gaze unreadable. 

A moment of doubt fills you. Was this too much? Self-conscious, you loosen your grip around him. But Midoriya tightens his hold, making you stop. 

“You okay?” he asks, voice soft. 

You manage to nod your head. Totally okay, more than okay. “Peachy,” you say, allowing him to lead you down the sidewalk towards the station. All the while, you do your best to ignore how romantic the gesture looks to people on the outside. 

You reach the station within a ten minute walk, all while bunched up together like any other normal couple. Midoriya insists on making sure you’re underneath a solid roof before removing the umbrella. Untangling yourself from Midoriya feels like the real world has resettled itself on your shoulders. 

So you take a breath, readjusting your backpack. “Thank you for walking me, boss.” 

He grins sheepishly. “No worries. I just have to make sure my employee gets home safe.” 

He’s trying to play along, but it feels a little like this cold wave of reality has just washed over you. You just try to manage with your best smile. “And some people have the nerve to say you’d be a terrifying boss.” 

Midoriya laughs. “You’re right. They should be saying I’m downright jolly.” 

That makes you laugh. “What are you, Santa Claus??” 

Another short round of laughter, before you pull yourself together enough to stop and look at him. He’s looking back at you, that crinkle of laughter in his eyes - which doesn’t mean anything. It means nothing at all. 

You look away first, fidgeting with the straps of your backpack. “I should go. Thanks again Midoriya.” 

You still don’t look at him as he replies. “You’re welcome,” he says. 

Without another word, you walk away. 

. 

Your ten month anniversary at Deku’s agency is around Christmas time, where the nearby shopping districts get taken over by holiday lights and festive trees of red and green. The weather gets colder, the days get shorter, and the work gets harder. Especially when most of your assignments consist of summarizing the events of the year. There are a lot of days where you are just trying to gather information. 

It’s busy enough that you almost forget about the agency holiday party, scheduled just two days before Christmas. You only remember because your marketing specialist friend (Karly) volunteers you to help with decorations. 

For The Most Wonderful Time of Year, it is rather stressful to make orders for the tree, the wreaths, the lights, and the Santa’s that are scattered throughout the office. 

The day comes fast. Two days before Christmas, Deku’s agency is filled with laughter and chatter. Per the rules of the night, everyone is dawning their ugliest Christmas sweater and are currently partaking in the borderline alarming amount of alcohol that was brought. After all, the white elephant gifts have been exchanged, the toasts have been made - all that’s left to do is drink. 

You’re no exception, as you have now found your way outside onto the balcony with a cocktail in your hand and a warmth in your cheeks. Being outside is nice considering how hot your body feels right now. You close your eyes as a nice breeze brushes against you. 

That is how Midoriya finds you. “There you are!” he exclaims, closing the sliding door behind him as he steps forward to join you. “Been looking for you.” 

You turn around to face him, eyes wide. He was… looking for you? “What for? Did you need something?” 

He stops next to you. “No, no, nothing serious. I just wanted to say you did a good job with the party.” He grins, cheeks also a little rosy from drinking. “Everyone seems to be having a good time!” 

You smile. “I’m glad. I would never have thought planning a party would be so stressful. But a part of me is glad I got to be in charge of it.” You glance at him, feeling unusually bold. It must be the alcohol. “Otherwise I would never get to see the great Deku in his Christmas sweater.” 

True to your words, Midoriya is dawning an All Might Christmas sweater - the brightest shades of blue, yellow, and red that you’ve ever seen. It’s cute. Horrifyingly so. 

Midoriya does a little pose that makes you laugh. “I mean, you could have seen this anytime. You just needed to ask.” 

The remark makes you still because was he implying he wanted to discuss his interests with you? 

The internal struggle leaves you a little winded, unsure how to respond to such a statement. “Is… is that so?” you reply softly. “B-But,” you stammer awkwardly. “I’m sure there are other people you could discuss your All Might collection with?” 

Midoriya hums softly, resuming his position next to you against the balcony. “Like who?” 

You shrug, trying to play it off casually. “I don’t know. Your girlfriend?” 

He laughs gently at that. “Who is this girlfriend you speak of? She doesn’t exist here.” 

Despite his behavior, it is a little surprising hearing that Deku doesn’t have a girlfriend. Especially considering that he looks the way he does and has literally been called Japan’s Sweetheart on numerous occasions. 

You don’t feel too nervous at being called out like this. It definitely has to be because of the alcohol. “W-Well, I just figured. Someone who looks the way you do should have no problem finding someone.” 

“Your confidence in me might be misplaced,” Midoriya returns. He turns to you. “Would you believe me if I told you that I have relationship problems too?”

“You? Having problems with women?” you joke. “Enlighten me then.” 

He takes in a small breath. “Well,” he starts shyly. “Hypothetically, there’s someone that I’m interested in. Someone who I would think is smart, funny… and pretty.” There’s a weight in his words that settles heavily on your heart. “But… the problem, scientifically speaking, is that us being together would be inappropriate. I would never want this person to think I’m taking advantage of my position to manipulate them. And even if we were able to go out, I don’t want this person to be viewed negatively. I don’t want people to think she has been doing well or that she even got a job because of my personal feelings. After all…” he gaze drops to your lips for a moment. Your stomach clenches a little. “This person is a really hard worker. And I would never want to take that away from them.” 

You wet your lips. “That does sound like a predicament, Mr. Deku.” 

He smiles, albeit a little sadly. “I suppose…” he starts. “That if this situation was real, it could definitely be seen like that.” 

You nod. “Right. Hypotheticals.” You take in a breath. “I guess you and I aren’t so different.” 

He glances at you. “Relationship problems?” 

You shrug. “Hypothetically, I could have problems.” 

Midoriya laughs, playing along. “Right. Of course.” 

“Let’s just say,” you start slowly. The alcohol buzz is starting to wear off. But you’re already neck-deep into this interaction and it’s too late to back off. “There’s this guy. He makes me laugh, looks out for me, and has never made me feel insecure. He’s patient, smart, and thoughtful - someone that I really admire, and someone I like a lot. The problem, hypothetically, would be that there’s a gap between us. Not an age gap or anything crazy but more just… the kind of gap where us dating would make him look bad. And he’s a good guy, who doesn’t deserve that kind of speculation.”

You dare to spare a glance at Midoriya for the first time since you started talking. He’s looking at you like it’s his first time seeing you - eyes wide and lips parted. But there’s some uncertainty in his eyes. Like he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions on who you’re talking about. You understand that. After all, his own situation could describe anyone. 

But he turns towards you with eyes open and vulnerable. And you are rooted to your spot, helpless to do nothing but watch him watch you. You watch as he steps closer, feel as he reaches out to grab at the bottom hem of your Christmas sweater and thumbs at the material. As if he is giving you permission to turn away. 

When you don’t, his fingers snake upwards to touch your hips. “It seems,” he breathes out softly. “We’re both a little stupid, aren’t we?” 

You exhale as his hands settle. You feel warm with something decidedly non-alcoholic. “So stupid…” You want to just close your eyes, lose yourself in Midoriya as you’ve wanted to do for the past few months. 

But. 

Your hands find him, your fingers curling around his wrist. It takes a lot of (obvious) effort to pull him away. “Wait,” you whisper. “W-We just talked about how this isn’t right. And I don’t want you getting in trouble for this.”

His eyes search yours, but he squeezes your waist once before relinquishing the grip. “You’re right,” he returns, smiling a little. “There’s a lot of alcohol at this party. Makes me do things I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.” 

You shake your head. “You don’t need to say sorry. Only if you don’t mean it and you don’t really like me.” 

His eyes have not left your face. “I do mean it. I do like you, a lot. I’m just sorry that it has to be like this. If things were different…” 

“I know,” you whisper. “But I… care about you. And I don’t want people to think you’re the kind of guy who’ll date an employee. Especially since you’re back and trying to establish yourself as a pro-hero here.” 

Midoriya laughs, but it’s not meant to be a humorous noise. He reaches out, thumbing your cheek one last time as if to commit the gesture to memory before he pulls away. “I don’t want us to pretend like this conversation never happened, but I hope that we can still be… friends.” 

Despite the unexpected turn of events (at a Christmas party of all places), you warm slightly at all how well he’s taking it. Not that you expected him to take it badly. And that, above all, he considers you a friend. “Of course,” you reply. “That’s what I want too.” 

The pair of you stare for another long moment before someone is sliding open the glass door of the agency that leads to the balcony. It’s Karly, calling out your name. 

You and Izuku look away, the moment gone. “I’m out here, Karly.” 

Said marketing specialist appears from the shadows, cheeks bright red from rose much like everyone else. But she stops short when she notices the two of you. “Oh! I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” 

“No,” Midoriya cuts in quickly. He’s not looking at either of you. “We’ve finished our discussion.” 

Deciding to leave him alone, you nod towards Karly. “Well, some people are asking about the cake…” 

“Oh!” you exclaim. “That’s right. I know where it is.” You turn towards Deku. “Will you be okay?” 

You mean it in two different ways. Deku looks at you like he knows what you mean. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” 

You make your way back into the party, refusing to think about what happens next. 

.

What happens is a quiet next few months. Midoriya becomes busy with joint patrols, an onslaught of photoshoots, and general paperwork. He still comes by your desk when he happens to be around when you are around, but the interactions are safe and surface level. It is a warped version of what you and Midoriya would call friendly conversations. 

While you miss the deeper conversations, you’re also guilty of not bringing up anything that could bring you back to that night. The fear of uncertainty gnaws at you, afraid of what could happen if you were to cross that threshold with Midoriya. 

Like you, Midoriya is also good at maintaining that friendly facade. He thanks you for your hard work on your one-year anniversary, allowing your boss to take you out for dinner. He signs a company congratulations card when you graduate from university and officially become a working adult.

And you’re thankful that he’s willing to… move on, you suppose? Perhaps avoid is a better word. It’s hard to smile and laugh with Midoriya when you’ve spent the better part of your employment at Deku’s agency wanting more. 

Despite those things, that isn’t the reason why you’re here now. “Here” being the corner coffee shop on a random Saturday, laptop open with a whole listing of hiring hero agencies displayed. Some of the reason is that awkward limbo with Deku, yes, but most of it has to do with the desire for a full-time job. Working part-time at Deku’s agency had been more of a necessity than a want, considering you had to work around a full-time student schedule. 

But with graduation under your belt, full-time has become an option. While the hiring manager at the agency has been open to the conversation of offering you that full-time position, this feels like a rare moment of opportunity to branch out. 

Besides, you think absently, there are a lot of good agencies hiring. 

Quietly, you apply to a few of them, wondering if your experience at Deku’s agency and all the hats you had to wear as a result of working at essentially an agency start-up could impress some of these bigger agencies. 

As it turns out, it does. Because over the next month, you garner the attention of Riot Ground. Again, quietly, you interview a few times before they offer you a position - one that will include working at a cubicle rather than a front desk and definitely involves a higher level of responsibility with a higher pay that you would be dumb to reject. 

Your direct boss is supportive of the decision, understanding that this type of industry exploration is what you want for the next chapter of your career. It’s a chance, she says, you need to take. Additionally, she accepts your two week notice. 

Telling Midoriya had been something you’ve wanted to avoid since Riot Ground offered you the position. In fact, it’s very possible that he already knows what is going on. It’s no secret that the Riot Ground agency and Deku agency are close - the leading heroes have known each other since high school. 

But you decide to just assume that Midoriya doesn’t know what’s going on as you knock on Deku’s office door, taking in a breath when he tells you to come in. He’s finishing up some paperwork as you open the door, definitely looking appalled by your appearance. You hardly ever visit him, especially not since the Christmas party. 

“Hey,” he breathes, closing his laptop. “Is everything okay?” 

You smile a little, trying to stay professional. “Yes! Everything is good. I just thought I should let you know something that’s coming up.” 

He frowns, but nods slowly. “Okay,” he says, a little confused. “What’s up?” 

“Well,” you start. “As you know, since I graduated I’ve been thinking about getting into a full-time position. I don’t know any kind of end goal for myself, but I want the opportunity to grow my experience however. And wherever. So… I just thought that I should let you know that Riot Ground offered me a position. And I accepted. I start in a month, but I already submitted my two weeks.” 

Midoriya is quiet for a moment, processing the ultimate conclusion to your words. Then, he laughs a little. Softly. “Kacchan… I mean, Bakugou told me that they had just hired someone from my agency. When he spoke about the new hire’s interview, I could tell he was impressed and excited to have that kind of person on his team. I just had a feeling that it was you.” He stands up, rounding the desk to lean against the front. “I’m really happy for you.” 

You smile, relieved. Although you should have known to expect nothing less from Deku. “Thank you, Midoriya.” 

But he does smile back, sighing a little. “I will say that I’m going to miss having you around. Getting to talk to you and see you at the end of a hard day always made things easier for me.” 

Your heart picks up a little. You hadn’t expected him to use that kind of line on you. “I-I mean,” you stammer. “It’s not like I’m going off the grid. The agency is just a subway ride away. A-And, I’m still going to be in the industry. So we’ll see each other around at events and such… Besides, we’re friends.” 

Friends. A delicate word to reflect on a delicate subject. And it shows in Midoriya’s eyes, watching you carefully. His eyes look you up and down, before he gives a half-smile. It looks like he has so much to say. But he eventually settles with, “Of course. We are friends.” 

A long pause follows. The pair of you take each other in, until the sound of footsteps pass by Deku’s office and it brings you back to reality. You look away first. “I just… I thought I would let you know. As a courtesy.” 

He nods. “I-I appreciate that. And I really am happy for you. Kacchan and Kirishima are good heroes, and they are good bosses too. I expect great things will happen with you on board.” 

You laugh. “Midoriya, you are speaking way too highly of me. It’s just an entry level position, The amount of influence I’ll have is probably second to none.” 

He shrugs. “So what? I believe in my friends - and I believe in you.” After a moment he clears his throat. “When is your last day?” 

“About a week and a half from now,” you reply. 

He nods slowly. “Got it. Well, thanks for letting me know.” 

You leave work that night a little unsettled, wondering if you’ve made the right decision in telling Midoriya. 

. 

The last week and a half of your employment at Deku’s agency is quiet. Midoriya gets pulled into a job on the other side of the country, meaning he doesn’t get to see you on your last day. You tell yourself that it’s normal that a big boss wouldn’t mind one of his part-time interns leaving and try to make peace with it. 

Midoriya is right about Bakugou and Kirishima. Despite being a little rough around the edges, Bakugou is polite and engaging. Naturally, Kirishima is warm and welcoming. Ground Zero is definitely a bigger agency compared to Deku’s up and coming roots - but the two heroes still take the time to greet you. 

It isn’t long before you’re taking on your own assignments - but your team is nice and supportive and Kirishima even tells you that the recent report you handed in was good. 

Two weeks after you start working at Riot Ground, Bakugou’s Vogue Japan article gets released and you are immediately pulled last minute into the afterparty preparations that Riot Ground is holding to celebrate. You’re more of a background shadow to provide support, but you are still invited to the party. Kirishima says you can think of your attendance as a rite of passage for your employment - one that you intend to take full advantage of. 

The afterparty is hosted at the top floor of this insane skyscraper in the city center - surrounded by lights and music and drinking. You spend most of the early night with coworkers, those in the same department as you as you all talk and laugh and make sure that things are going smoothly. 

This sense of ease is probably how you’re able to notice him before he notices you. 

Your stomach drops when you see Midoriya, someone who you hadn’t seen since that last conversation in his office. He’s at the bar, talking to some girl with a surprising amount of engagement and focus that you stare. 

You cannot help the sickly feeling weighing at the pit of your stomach - because you cannot remember the last time Midoriya talked to you like that. Actually, you can. It was before the Christmas party. Before you engaged in that game of hypotheticals with him. You’ve never regretted the way the exchange went down. But you have regretted the aftermath - the halted conversations, the surface level charades. Midoriya had said he liked you back, sure, but perhaps he only did nice things for you because he wanted something? And surely once he realized he was never going to get anywhere with you - he just gave up, didn’t he? 

That’s stupid, you think to yourself, because Midoriya isn’t like that. He’s sweet and earnest. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to just throw them aside when they are no longer of use. 

But, the other side of you whispers, things haven’t been the same since that night at the Christmas party. Perhaps it’s not out of left field for you to be doubtful. 

Across the way, Midoriya catches your eye and gives you a smile. You wave back half-heartedly. 

He tilts his head, giving you a look you hate that you can read. Is everything okay? 

You just give a shrug, turning back to your coworker before he could respond. 

You assume it’s the end of that conversation with Midoriya. In fact, the next time you (subconsciously) try looking for him, he isn’t at the bar anymore but on the dance floor with Uravity and Shouto. You disappear into an empty hallway that leads to the elevators, sipping the drink (water) you’ve gotten and try to ignore that vague feeling of relief upon realizing that girl was nowhere to be seen. 

You turn back to your water, perhaps waiting for it to drown you or give you answers to questions you are too afraid to ask. 

That is, until a figure slides up next to you. At first, you think it’s some stranger coming up to bother you. But it’s Midoriya. 

“You look lonely,” he comments. Despite the loud music coming from the main room just a few feet down, the hallway is insulated enough where you can hear him properly. 

You glance at him. “What do you mean? I’m peachy-keen.” 

He frowns, the first crack in his wall. “You know, people who say they are peachy-keen are usually the opposite of that. I just can’t help but notice that you’re here by yourself, and you’re drinking water.” 

“I’m on the clock,” you reply. 

Midoriya looks around for a moment, before turning to face you fully. “Is everything okay? Nobody’s bothering you, are they?” 

You look at him this time. “It’s fine, Midoriya.” You jerk your head out towards the main room. “Why don’t you go reunite with your girlfriend or something?” 

Midoriya blinks. “Girlfriend? What are you talking about?” 

Your eyes narrow into a glare. “Don’t try to play dumb with me, Deku. I know that you saw me looking. She’s cute. Thanks for letting me know about that, by the way.” 

“Oh, just like you told me that you were looking for a new job?” Deku bites back. Another crack in his game of pretend. He also seems annoyed you’ve addressed him by his hero name. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s Uraraka’s manager and has been her manager since we graduated high school. We’re friends - just like I thought you and me were friends.” 

You push yourself off the wall at that. “We are friends,” you protest hotly, defensive, not even sure if you believe your own words. “It’s just…” 

“Just what?” Midoriya snaps, that friendly facade gone now. “Just the fact that I thought things would go back to normal after that night, only to get blindsided?” He runs a hand through his curls. “Listen, I was and am really happy for you that you got a great job with Kacchan and Eijiro. I just wish you told me you were planning to leave. That’s what friends do.” 

“Well, why does it matter?” you retort. “A boss shouldn’t care too much if a lowly part-time intern decides to pursue a different agency for a different opportunity - !” 

“But you weren’t just a lowly part-time intern!” he says loudly, then lowers his voice. His admittance echoes in your mind, making you run warm. Midoriya watches you carefully, as if waiting for you to dismiss him. When you don’t, he takes a step closer, rounding on you so that your back is against the hallway wall. “To me, it wasn’t like that. At first, it was. But I grew to really like you as more than just someone I saw at work everyday. I liked you a lot.”

You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down, remembering your doubts just a few moments prior. “Why does that matter now anyways? You clearly have more fun with that manager anyways.” 

He groans, stepping closer, hands settling on your waist to push you against the wall. “What is this about? It seems like we’re mad about two separate things.” 

You huff, trying to look away from him. “I’m not mad.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Baby, your glare could cut glass. I can be single-minded sometimes. But I’m not stupid.” 

You hate to admit it. But the pet name softens you up a bit. Enough that you turn your gaze back to Midoriya. “I was just frustrated okay?” you shoot back. “I was under the impression that we would stay friends too. But you were so distant after I told you I was leaving. You didn’t even say goodbye to me on my last day at the agency. I know you were away but… it still hurt me. And then I come to this party and see you for the first time in a month talking to some other girl. Not just talking - talking excitedly and happily. I just couldn’t help but overthink about why you enjoyed your time with her more than time with me.” 

His eyes flicker between your eyes, but he relaxes after a moment. “I always enjoy my time with you,” he explains softly. “But I’m sorry. I should have spoken up when I noticed we were playing this game of just pretending to be alright. I think the thought of confrontation made me more nervous. And I’m sorry for not being there for your last day.” 

You sigh. Perhaps hearing his apology is just what you’ve needed after all this time. “No. I’m sorry. It takes two people to have a conversation, and I was also not reaching out to communicate my frustration. I guess… perhaps, a part of me wanted to know what would happen with us. And if…” you trail off.

Midoriya raises an eyebrow. “If…” he coaxes, leaning in. When you don’t say anything, he smiles. “If I still like you?” 

You pout. “You have no tact, do you know that?” 

“I think the proper phrase is ‘relief knowing I can now openly communicate with the girl I’ve been crazy about for months’.” He pauses. “Unless you’re more of a show don’t tell kind of person?”

He’s teasing you. “I don’t know,” you finally manage, feeling warm all over. “What would showing me look like?” 

At your question, Midoriya smiles again. Less of a teasing smile, more of a soft and understanding curve that makes your heart race. Your anger is completely forgotten as one of his hands gently takes your chin. “Probably something like this…” 

He leans in. You close your eyes, heart thumping out of your chest - because was this really going to happen? Right here? Right now? And to think you were so mad at him just an hour ago… 

A call of your name. “Oi, I know you’re out here - oh. Fuck.” 

Midoriya pulls away, his grip on your chin and your waist gone as if both of you are ripped back to reality. You jolt, eyes flashing open and turning towards the source of the noise. Bakugou stands at the entrance of the hallway, lips parted and eyes wide and looking uncharacteristically startled. 

“Kacchan!” Midoriya exclaims, glancing at you before glancing back at your boss. “We were just… This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing…” 

Bakugou tsks, recovering quickly as he raises a hand up to stop Deku from spiraling into a flurry of conversation and tangents. “I didn’t ask, nerd. I just need my employee’s help with something.” 

You try to recover as well, ignoring your racing heart as you turn towards Bakugou. “O-Of course, what do you need?” 

You step away from Midoriya, but he catches your wrist in his hand before you can go too far. 

“Hey,” he says, stepping up next to you, not speaking until you’re looking at him. “Don’t be a stranger. If I promise to call, promise you’ll pick up.” 

You cannot help but just smile and nod. “Okay,” you return. “I promise.” 

He beams, and releases the hold he has on your wrist. You walk up to Bakugou, allowing him to lead you back into the loud dancefloor. 

“Bakugou!” you call out, feeling the need to fill the silence between the two of you despite the music and laughter around you. “Midoriya is nice! And I really like him!” 

Bakugou grunts, whirling around to face you. “Shut up!” he retorts. “I know. The stupid nerd hasn’t shut the fuck up about you since he found out I hired you. So I don’t think you need to worry. He likes you a lot too.” He pauses. “Now can you please help Eijiro set up the champagne fountain?” 

You grin for more than just the champagne foundation. You shoot your boss a thumbs-up before making your way back into the main party, definitely feeling better than when you first stepped in here. 

. 

True to his promise, Midoriya calls. And to your promise, you answer. It doesn’t take long for the pair of you to resume the same ease of connection that developed when you first met. Partly because you have all this history together, but also because the feelings have been put out there. The calls and texts continue without the worry of crossing past a boss/employee relationship. 

Having Midoriya in your life like this is different. There’s still a bridge to cross with him, but there’s a different openness about this compared to pretending not to be so into him. 

Now he knows how much you like him. And you’re waiting for him to take the next steps. 

But, again, it’s a line neither of you cross for the next few months. Midoriya is busy with work, and so are you. Ground Zero keeps you on your toes with increased responsibilities and solo projects that are stressful yet accomplishing. Yet, every “good job” thrown your way feels like a different badge of honor that heightens your confidence. It feels like some of the things you’ve wanted for your life (a stable career with responsibilities you enjoy doing and coworkers you actually like spending time with) are starting to come together. 

Although yes, you are in a predicament with Deku, you refuse to let that damper your attitude about your overall life trajectory. Things will happen when they are able to happen. 

It’s a thought that comforts you. For the next few months following the Riot Ground party, you maintain a limbo with Midoriya. Until there is a pounding on your door at three in the morning. 

You start awake at the noise echoing through your apartment, heart pounding and eyes suddenly alert. What time is it? The digital BT21 Koya clock on your nightstand reads 3:02 AM. Who is it? No idea. A handful of college students live in this apartment building, so it isn’t unusual to hear knocks at this hour. They’re usually short; this one is not. 

The persistence of it drags you out of bed and towards the door. Is it the smartest way to go about this situation? No. It could be a villain with super hearing, waiting for you to make a noise!! Or perhaps people pretending to be maintenance just so they can break in? 

God, you definitely need to stop scrolling through Tiktok. 

You sigh, tiptoeing to the peephole on your door. You’re expecting drunk college kids, or people you’re supposed to ignore. 

What you see, however, is neither of those things. It’s Deku, slumped against the wall, looking uncharacteristically tired and out-of-breath. Brows furrowing and eyes widening, you open the door with more force than necessary. “Midoriya!” you exclaim, lowering your voice towards the tail-end when you remember that it is three in the morning. “A-Are you okay? What happened?” 

Midoriya looks over at you. His face is bruised slightly and you don’t even want to know what kind of injuries he’s hiding underneath the suit. What happened? When he texted you earlier than evening, he looked and sounded perfectly fine. His eyes rake over you from head to toe, before he sighs. “Oh good. You’re okay.” 

You stare, trying to mentally decipher his words but find that you have no idea what he’s talking about. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” 

He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath before he pushes himself off the doorframe. Quietly, he leans into your space and slowly cups your face with his hands. Midoriya follows the curve of your face carefully, committing each detail to memory.

Clearly approaching the situation normally isn’t getting into his head. He’s too shaken by what he has seen. So you stare up at him, trying to catch his gaze. “Izuku…?” you try. 

That catches his attention. He shifts to look back at you. He sighs, pressing his forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s just…” 

“Do you want to come inside?” you offer gently. 

Midoriya nods, allowing you to pull him inside the apartment. You make it to the living room, where he drops himself unceremoniously onto your couch. Despite his disheveled appearance, he is watching you carefully and looking more alert than before. 

You look back at him, continuing to assess his condition. What happened to him? Did he need to see a doctor? You try to echo one of those thoughts. “Are you okay, Midoriya?” 

He blinks. “I liked it…” he starts. 

You move to sit on the couch. “You liked it?” 

“You called me Izuku,” he clarifies. “I want you to keep calling me that.” 

You sigh, eyes slanting into more of a frown than the wide-eyed concern from before. “Are you drunk?” 

He looks away, rubbing at his face. “No, I’m not.” 

“Well, do I have to drive you to the hospital?” 

“No, I’m fine.” 

“I’d have to disagree. A Midoriya… I mean Izuku,” you correct when Midoriya gives you a look. “An Izuku who is normal wouldn’t come barging in at three in the morning looking like he’s just seen hell.” 

He doesn’t say anything to that, which worries you more. Well, if he doesn’t want to go to the hospital and he’s not drunk, you turn to the next best solution. 

You move to get off of the couch. “Let me get you some water.” 

“Wait.” His hand catches your wrist. He’s not even pulling you that hard, but his touch leaves you rooted to the spot. “J-Just stay here, if that’s okay.” 

You settle back on the couch, trying to catch his eye. Yours widen slightly when you realize that his eyes are glassy. Was Midoriya crying? “Hey, Izuku…” you start, sitting closer to him. “What’s wrong?” 

He looks up for a moment, before looking back over at you. “Can I…” he trails off. “Can I just…” When you don’t flinch away, he takes that as a sign. He wraps his arms around your waist, scooping you up and plopping him on his lap with your knees on either side of him. Straddling him, you let him manhandle you. You let him press you to him, chest to chest, and a hand at the back of your head to press your face into his neck. He noses at your hairline slowly. 

“Izuku,” you whisper, voice muffled into his suit. “Tell me what happened.” 

Midoriya takes in one more deep breath, before he loosens his grip enough for you to pull back and see his face. “I was finishing up my patrol when a group of villains ambushed me. That part was normal, since it’s the middle of the night and maybe they thought they could get away with it? Everything was fine until I saw you. One of the villains used his quirk and made me see something that really shook me up.” 

Considering that he’s here, hugging you like he’s trying to merge with you, you think you have a vague idea of what he could have seen. But you refuse to be self-centered. You gently fiddle with the hair at the back of his neck. “What did you see?” 

He doesn’t look at you as his fingers run over the hem of your sleeping shirt. “You showed up, and they took you away. No matter how far I ran, I couldn’t catch up. I couldn’t save you. Luckily, some of my sidekicks showed up so they didn’t get away. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what they had shown me. I just had to make sure you were okay.” 

You exhale, not realizing you had held your breath during Midoriya’s story. At the very least, this explains his frantic behavior. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m here.” 

He sighs, moving his hands to your waist. “It’s not okay though,” he returns, looking at you. “I think not being able to talk things out with you has freaked me out, thinking that I’ll miss my chance and lose you.” 

“You won’t lose me,” you say quietly. “I really like you.” You relax slightly in his arms. “We don’t have to talk about us right now but I don’t want you to rush into anything with me. I know that you’re here to protect people and you’re trying to establish yourself. I don’t want to get in the way of that. I don’t want you to spread yourself too thin.” You look down, suddenly nervous. “When this becomes something, I’m going to be a little selfish. I don’t want to feel like I’m coming in second place. I want everything that you’ll give me, and I want to feel like you’re always going to choose me. I know that in itself is selfish, but I just want to be upfront with you.”

One of Midoriya’s hands comes up to cup your cheek. He angles himself to meet your gaze. “Don’t ever call yourself selfish like it’s a bad thing. I want you to be selfish because I always want you to myself.” He starts mindlessly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I want to be honest with you too. I can’t promise you that I can respond to texts within the hour. I can’t even promise that I’ll be on time for every date. But I’ll always consider you. And I’ll always choose to come back to you.” 

Overcome with helpless affection for him, you cannot help looking down at his lips. Suddenly, you’re aware of what you’re wearing and what you’re not wearing. Your sleeping attire is just a Riot Ground t-shirt you got from a team-building event during orientation and some loose shorts. Your lack of a bra is the most obvious. 

Judging from Midoriya’s darkened eyes, he knows this.

A pause. Then he brings you down to him, kissing you softly. Time seems to melt away as you shut your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in him. You can feel Midoriya’s grip tighten, pulling you closer as little uncontrollable whimpers fall from your lips.

Without warning, you feel yourself get hoisted up again. One hand around your waist, one hand hooked around a leg as you are maneuvered onto your back. Above you, Midoriya is steady and comforting and warm. He stares down at you like it is his first time seeing you. The sight sends jolts of anticipation through your body. 

On instinct, your arms find the back of his neck as he leans down to peck your lips once, twice, thrice more before starting a trail of butterfly kisses down your neck. He stops at the base, nipping and biting. It tickles, causing little giggles to escape you as you twitch occasionally at the overwhelming sensation. 

Midoriya hums, lifting himself back up. “So sensitive,” he mutters. 

You pout, tighten your grip on the back of his suit. “Is that okay?” 

He smiles, leaning back down to touch your nose with his. “More than okay. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Want to keep going?” 

You cannot help but smile back, heart beating helplessly in your chest. “Yes,” you whisper, nervous but knowing that you trust him more than anything. 

So Midoriya kisses you again, his hands move to your waist to inch your shirt up higher and higher. He kisses down your stomach, fingers gripping the waistband of your shorts. “Is this okay?” he asks softly. 

You nod, realizing after a moment that he cannot see you. “Yes, yes, please Izuku…” 

You stare up at the ceiling as he pulls your bottoms down, exposing you to the air outside. It doesn’t stay unoccupied for long before he’s diving in between your legs, licking and sucking at spots that make you see stars. 

And when he curls up with you later that night under the blankets, refusing to let you go as you giggle and complain about needing the restroom, your heart is high with hope. Hope that perhaps it’s finally time for you and Midoriya. That perhaps, the game is finally over. 

.

The following day, Midoriya shows up to the Riot Ground agency. He had left early that morning, leaving behind a text apologizing and promising to make it up to you later that day. You hadn’t been entirely sure what making it up to you would entail, but you just told him you were looking forward to it. 

It’s a little bit before your lunch break when Bakugou comes stalking towards your cubicle. You’re still on the phone with the guys at HEROES MAGAZINE when he approaches, but he’s surprisingly patient as he waits for the call to end. 

You hang up after a few more minutes of last minute confirmations. “Everything okay?” you ask, redirecting your attention to Bakugou. 

He grunts, crossing his hands over his chest. “You have a visitor. Real insistent about seeing you.” 

You tilt your head. “Who is it?” 

He sighs, unfolding his arms. “Come on.” 

Nervously, you follow Bakugou into his office. Inside, you find Midoriya sitting on the couch. He’s talking to Kirishimia, but all the attention shifts to you as soon as you enter. Midoriya’s face lights up. “Hey!” he greets cheerfully, standing up to approach you. 

You let him, unable to help but smile back as the memories of last night fill you with warmth. The fact that those events were real and tangible still baffles you. “Hi, Izuku…” 

He scratches the back of his neck. “I really am sorry about having to leave after… yeah. After that.” 

You laugh, forgetting that both of you have company. “It’s fine. I know you’re busy. You’re here. That’s what’s important to me.” 

Midoriya smiles, actually looking relieved at your reassurance. “I’m glad…” 

From what sounds like miles away, Bakugou interrupts with a laugh. “Oh my fucking god.” 

You turn to look at him. “Something wrong boss?”

Bakugou is still smirking. He looks between you and Midoriya like he knows something you do not. He, however, makes it clear with his observation. “You guys finally hooked up, didn’t you?”

Immediately, your heart feels like it’s racing on overdrive as your entire body runs hot. “H-How did you… I mean, it’s just… I don’t…” 

Midoriya’s cheeks turn pink. “Kacchan, we’re in a workplace - can’t you keep things professional?” 

“Professional?” Bakugou echoes, smirking. “You have a lot of nerve saying that to me, Deku. Especially when the two of you are all googly-eyed right in front of my salad!!!” 

“Oi, Katsuki,” Kirishima interrupts, getting up from the couch and walking over to slap a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder. “I think it’s cute. Go easy on them.” Kirishima shifts his attention to you and Midoriya. “So, what’s this? You guys just hooking up? Or boyfriend and girlfriend? No shame either way!! I think it’s great that we live in a society where every stage and every kind of relationship has an appropriate label.” 

The overall question makes you want the ground to swallow you whole. This is especially the case because you and Midoriya haven’t even discussed what this is yet. What if you answered and it wasn’t the answer Midoriya had in mind. Or would staying silent be the better option? Should you already know what kind of relationship you’re in with Midoriya? You know you talked things out yesterday but was making an assumption going too far?

Your silence makes Kirishima smile. “I mean, there’s also no shame in being undecided. As long as you guys are communicating.” 

Midoriya wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. “I’m actually here to invite you to dinner tonight,” he says, pointedly ignoring his friends and their teasing smiles. 

You smile nervously, unsure whether or not to go along with Midoriya. You decide for it eventually. “Sure. I get off around 5. Can I meet you someplace?”

He shakes his head, looking at you with stars in his eyes. “No, no, I’ll come pick you up.” 

True to his promise, Midoriya is in the lobby of Riot Ground. He gives you that same bright smile, takes your hand. The restaurant he’s selected for the two of you is a few stops away, and he fills any silence with questions about your day and conversations like this is any normal day. Not at all like you’re about to go on (what you would consider to be) a date with Midoriya. 

It’s a sentiment you feel confident enough to echo once the pair of you are seated next to each other in the booth. You notice quickly that he’s taken you to a ramen shop you’ve mentioned enjoying once or twice. The realization draws out a happy, private smile. 

At your observation of this date, he mirrors your grin. “I’m glad we’re on the same page about this. It makes me feel less nervous about telling you that… last night?” He asks like he needs to make sure you know what he’s referring to. Like you need a reminder. But you nod, because Midoriya seems nervous. “That was all real to me. I know dating me would be challenging. But I really like you and I want to be with you. I hope that doesn’t freak you out.” 

Detecting his nerves regarding the subject, you reach out to take his hand. “Izuku, it doesn’t freak me out. I also mean what I said yesterday. I really like you.” You feel yourself go warm with meekness. “Although, I thought it was obvious that I wouldn’t freak out no matter what you said. You did spend the night, amongst other things… I don’t do that with guys I don’t like.” 

Midoriya laughs softly. “I just didn’t want to make any assumptions.” 

You nod. “Well, cease your worries. I am thoroughly into you.” 

Since you’re not rejecting his advances, Midoriya grows bolder. “So… can I do this…?” He laces your fingers together. 

You smile. “Yes,” you whisper, looking over at him. 

He moves closer, still wearing that fond grin. “And when I drop by the agency, can I tell Kacchan that I’m visiting my girlfriend?” 

Your smile morphs into a grin, but there are butterflies in your stomach. “You should probably be a little more professional around your Kacchan.” 

He pouts at that. “What if it’s for something important?” 

You gap slightly, unconsciously inching closer to him. “What could be so important with you and your new girlfriend that you need to visit her workplace?” 

He smiles at the question, eyes flickering down to your mouth before he leans in to kiss you. It’s firm and quick, startling you enough to elicit a squeak from the back of your throat. But he pulls away before you can relish in the gesture. 

When you open your eyes, Midoriya is still looking at you. You can feel the weight of his answer in his stare, making one very firm decision: you were going to suck his dick on the car ride home. 

.

Nearly one year later, the hero rankings are announced on a bright sunny afternoon. 

You are in your now shared apartment when the broadcast starts. When Midoriya is announced as the new number one hero. It’s a big moment within the hero community; not entirely unexpected considering the anticipation of Deku’s return and what he has been able to accomplish since then. It’s a moment that garners big cheers as Midoriya takes the stage alongside the other top ten heroes. 

You watch as each top ten hero makes a speech about their appreciation and their promise to continue protecting the country. As Midoriya makes his own speech, your heart feels light with pride and joy. 

It’s a feeling that continues into the late afternoon, when you’re fitting the bed with newly washed sheets that you hear the front door open and slam shut. “Baby?” It’s Midoriya. “Baby, I’m home!!!” 

You immediately come bounding out of the bedroom, dashing towards the entrance where Midoriya is slipping off his shoes. “Welcome back!! Congratulations on your ranking, Izuku!” 

At once, he sweeps you up into a hug, bringing your feet off the floor and your laughter in his ear. “Thank you,” he whispers earnestly, setting you back on the floor. He kisses your cheeks, spoiling you as if you were the one who has just ranked as the number one hero in the country. “Did you watch the broadcast?” 

“Of course!” you say, giving him a look. “It’s a big deal, Izuku.” 

He pulls back enough to send you one of his soft smiles. “Thank you.” 

You shake your head, cupping his cheeks. “How do you want to celebrate, Mr. Number One?” 

“Well, Uraraka is hosting a party later today to celebrate the new rankings. But…” he trails off, turning meek. He leans forward, nose to nose. “Kind of want to eat you out. Is that okay?” 

Your stomach flutters. His hands move up your shirt, touching at bare skin. “W-We should do something for you.” 

“You letting me eat you out is the something for me,” Midoriya returns, removing his hands to start messing with your shorts. He pulls both shorts and panties down, lowering himself down to let you step out of them. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he traverses down the hall back into your shared bedroom. Gracefully, Midoriya lowers you amongst the pillows. 

One, two, three more kisses along your forehead, cheek and lips, before Midoriya makes his way down your body. Lifting your shirt over your head, planting two kisses on each nipple, down your stomach, immediately wrapping his arms around your legs to keep them apart. A kiss on your clit melts into a lick that makes you choke on a whimper. 

Midoriya has always been good at eating you out. Ever since that first night, he is keen on prodding at the spots that drive you to the edge the quickest, or dragging things out as long as he wants to. It’s that scary observational skills from his line of work getting put to personal use. 

And you’re not complaining. 

In the fifteen minutes he spends in between your legs, you come three times. You’re shaking, gasping, overwhelmed by the time he lifts his head up with his lips shiny with juice. 

You’re still trying to catch your breath as Midoriya undoes his belt, takes out his cock. He runs it over your slit once before pushing in past the ring of muscle. The sensation makes you jolt, crying out as you arch and push at his chest. “Izuku… wait.” Your walls flutter, causing Midoriya to sputter. “I just need to catch my breath.” 

You take a few deep breaths as Midoriya thumbs at your hip in apology. “Sorry baby, I should have asked first.” 

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.” 

“You don’t need to apologize.” Midoriya leans down, kissing your ear and down your neck, nipping gently at your collarbone.The gesture, while ticklish, helps relax you enough to reflect on the events of the day. You’re not sure how long it is before you speak again. 

“Hey, so since you’re the number one hero now…” you start once you feel like your head has cleared up enough. “You’re probably going to be a whole lot busier. Lots more people are going to be looking at you and relying on you. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted…” 

Saying the words out loud makes a new kind of reality dawn on you. How would you fit in this equation of Midoriya’s newest accomplishment? 

“Hey.” Midoriya’s voice draws you back. His head lifts from your neck, locking you in an intense stare, hands planted on either side of you. “I don’t know what exactly is going on in that head of yours. Just because I’m the number one hero now doesn’t mean that I still don’t care about you. It doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly going to stop considering you. I’m number one to the country, but you’re number one to me and that’s what is important.” 

You pause, letting his words sink in. You giggle. “Izuku, that was super cheesy.” 

“And what of it?” he purrs, using your giggle as the okay to readjust you. He takes your ankles, repositioning them over his shoulders. He leans in, bringing your legs to your chest, sinking deeper into you. The sensation makes you whine, arching your back and curling your toes. 

“Mmmm,” you whimper, unable to do anything else but lay there and take it. 

“Do you understand now?” he asks, pulling out until the tip and thrusting back in. “Do you understand how much I love you?” 

As if it wasn’t hard enough answering his question, he’s hitting something in you that makes it difficult to think. “Fffuck, Izuku… yes…” 

“Then, you think you can say it back to me, pretty girl?” He straightens up, keeping one of your legs on his shoulder as he increases his pace. His grip on you is strong, while his other hand starts drawing tight circles on your clit. 

You start fluttering around his cock, unable to move away from the simulation. So you try to push at his chest in warning. “Izuku… wait…” 

“I don’t know if I can, baby,” he says, almost disappointedly. “I can’t let my girl walk around not knowing how much I care about her.” 

“I do know…” you whimper, shaking when he finds the right angle to rub your clit. “Aaaaaa… I know how much you love me.” 

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Good girl. Wanna say it back?” 

He releases your other leg so that both fall on either side of his waist. Midoriya looms over you again, never once letting up his pace. “Say…” you manage, tongue feeling like jello. “Say what back?” 

He hums. Still circling your clit, he runs his other hand up over your curves, palming your breast. “Say you love me back.” 

“I love you - !” you squeal as he pinches a nipple. The coil in your stomach snaps, and white hot pleasure runs through your body. You shudder, tightening and fluttering and gasping. You weakly whimper as Midoriya continues to drive into you, your breasts bouncing with the movement. It stops when he gives you one last firm thrust, letting out a groan of his own that is so hot your walls flutter at the noise. 

The high of what you’ve started together starts to die down as the silence is filled with your gasps and his panting. 

Midoriya drops himself next to you, immediately wrapping his arms around you and nosing your hairline. “Hey,” he whispers. 

“Hmmm?” you hum, content and still trying to catch your breath. 

He doesn’t speak until you look at him. He leans in, touching his nose to yours. “I love you too.” 

You try hard to bite back a grin. “Still want to go to Uraraka’s party?” you ask quietly. 

He groans against your neck. “Not really.” 

You giggle. “You should!” you scold. “It’ll be fun. You’re the number one hero now. Don’t you want to celebrate with your friends?” 

“I’d rather just celebrate with you,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

You roll your eyes playfully. “We just did. C’mon!” You push yourself off of bed, whirling around to face him. “I’m gonna pee. We’re going to shower, and then go.” 

Never able to say no to you, Midoriya sits up on the bed and climbs out after you. “Okay, okay, baby. We’ll go.” Without warning, he hooks his arms under your knee and under your back, lifting you up and carrying you to the shower - the sound of your giggles filling the air. 

The party is in full swing by the time you and Midoriya arrive at Uraraka’s house. Midoriya still has that post sex glow in his cheeks. It makes him clingy to you as you enter. The man at your side is immediately greeted by everyone, both friends and fans. It makes it easy for you to peel yourself away from your boyfriend, finding shelter in the living room. 

There, you find Bakugou at the couch, nursing a drink in his hands. 

Finding comfort in the sight of a familiar face, you approach him. “Bakugou! I didn’t think you’d show up.” 

He gives you a sideways glance. “I wasn’t,” he says. “Eijirou said I should, so people can see that I’m supportive of Deku taking over the number one spot. Like I give a shit what people think anyways.” 

You take a seat next to him. “I think you care a little bit. I know how much having that number one spot meant to you. Buuuutt,” you say, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “I think it could be seen as good, friendly competition. What do you think? Gonna start working double shifts to get your spot back?” you ask teasingly, grinning playfully at Bakugou. The latter is surprisingly quiet. 

Bakugou gives you a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I knew it was only a matter of time,” he gruffs. “I really do hope as his girlfriend, you’ll never have to see this. But Deku? That nerd is crazy. Back in high school, during the war, he became this self-sacrificing maniac and acted out on his own. It’s a version of him I haven’t seen since then, but it’s a trait that never really went away. Deku lives to give back,” he mutters, so quiet that you wonder if you’re meant to hear him or not. “That’s why people gravitate towards him. It’s hard to compete with someone who would so willingly trade his happiness for others without hesitation.” 

Bakugou’s eyes find something. You turn, following his stare to see Midoriya chatting it up with other pro-heroes. The latter looks bashful, but proud - he blends right into this world you are only just now starting to adjust to. 

I hope you’ll never have to see it.

You watch as Midoriya’s gaze finds yours, waving when he smiles at you, trying not to ponder too deeply into Bakugou’s words.

.

Despite your wishes, you spend some time thinking about Bakugou’s observation. It’s true. Midoriya is a giver. He gives and gives and gives, hardly ever taking anything in return. He rarely asks to take time off, asks you to take care of him, and rarely ever thinks about himself. 

A year after Midoriya becomes the number one hero, you start to see what Bakugou had meant. 

It starts small. So subtle that you don’t even notice it at the time. It happens on a random Thursday night, when Midoriya stops kissing you hello after coming back from the office. It’s something you don’t even notice at the time. You had just continued cooking dinner, oblivious to what that simple missing gesture would spiral into. 

Then, he misses a lunch date. Texts about his whereabouts and any villain appearances on the news are non-existent, until you find out that he just got caught up on paperwork and simply lost track of time. He apologizes later that evening, promising to make it up to you. And he does. He brought flowers home the next day and took you out to dinner. So you forget about the incident, assuming that it was a one-time thing. 

Only, it isn’t just a one-time thing. He misses a few more dates, and doesn’t even tell you he’s coming home late one evening, before you decide it’s time to prod. Gently though, because you aren’t a confrontational person. 

It happens late one night, because Midoriya stops taking days off, when both of you are in bed. Midoriya still wraps one arm around you, using his other hand to scroll through his phone. 

“Izuku, is everything okay?” you ask softly, almost nervous to question it. 

He looks at you, smiling uneasily. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“N-No reason. I was just wondering if you’ve been more busy than before. It’s just that you’ve been coming home later and later. Not to mention that I know that you know there have been a few dates we need to catch up on…” 

Midoriya lowers his phone, pondering your words as he wraps both arms around you. “I know, baby. I’m sorry about that. You know, I didn’t realize just how many cases the police are working on at any given time. Big-case villains, small-case villains, missing people reports… so as the number one hero I’m trying to help out as much as I can.” 

You look over at him. “You’re working with the police to solve all those cases?” you try for a smile and a joke. “No wonder you’ve been so busy.” 

He grins, not noticing the fake smile you’ve plastered on your face. He’s looking at you, but it feels more like he’s looking through you. “People out there need me.” 

You touch his cheek, trying to root him back to you. “Well, I need you too, Izuku.” You try to sound lighthearted, but something heavy plants itself in your heart. 

At that, Midoriya’s eyes really do focus on your face this time. He cups your cheek. “Baby, I’m right here. Always.” 

Are you really? It’s a thought that your mind whispers to you softly, challenging you to say it. But you cannot rise to the task. You don’t say anything that night. You just nod, hugging him and thinking: this is the last time I’ll have to say this. 

Unfortunately, life does not work that way. It finds a way to topple down all around you. Not only does Midoriya remain busy, but you get promoted at Ground Zero’s agency. You move from a cubicle into your own office along with a clusterfuck of new responsibilities. 

The next few months feel like one thing after another. Every attempt both you and Midoriya make falls flat. You plan a birthday party for Midoriya, only to fly out on a impromptu business trip hours before. Midoriya makes reservations for the grand opening of this fancy sushi restaurant, but ultimately stands you up because he fell asleep on the couch. He tries to come home early to surprise you, but you’re out buying groceries for the week. 

Conversation between the two of you becomes as nonexistent as the plans you try to make. What were once joyful exchanges about the past or eventful tales from your jobs become surface level questions about the weather or if either one of you were going to be home for dinner - with the answer typically being no. It feels like another game of pretend with Midoriya - only this time, you’re pretending like this relationship is on the right track. 

Everything comes to a headway on a Tuesday morning. Midoriya is out of bed and out of the apartment. Typical. You didn’t even hear him come in last night (or early this morning). But you notice a text message from Kirishimia at six in the morning. Less typical. Urgent meeting at the heroes commission. Turn on the news when you wake up. 

The headlines jump out onto the screen as soon as you turn on the TV. 

DEVASTATING EARTHQUAKE STRIKES. TOP OVERSEAS PRO HEROES REQUESTED FOR REINFORCEMENTS. 

The footage is horrible. Buildings toppled down, rubble everywhere. People digging through. Children screaming. All the things of nightmares, not unlike the disaster you remember from your childhood - from the Liberation War all those years ago. 

It’s footage that continues to be displayed over social media and over the city as you get ready for work and take the subway to the office. It’s still there when you turn on the TV in your office when you show up to work. 

“It’s horrible,” Roni, your friend from the finance department, mutters, arms crossed over her chest as she joins you to watch. “The hero commission is probably trying to figure out which heroes to send over and which ones need to stay here in Japan.” She turns to you. “Any news from Deku?” 

The mention of his name makes your stomach churn. Truthfully, you haven’t spoken to Izuku, really spoken to him, in weeks. You don’t even remember the last time you existed in the same space together. You clear your throat. You check your phone with a weight in your gut, knowing that there won’t be any messages.You hate that your suspicions are confirmed. “Nothing.” 

He’s probably at the same meeting as Bakugou and Kirishimia, along with all the other top heroes. 

It is a few hours of tense silence in the office. Both for the fate of which heroes will travel abroad and if your bosses will be part of that departure. 

The aforementioned bosses return a few hours later, confirming that they will not be sent away. As part of the top five pro-heroes, they are tasked with staying. “Because some others at the top volunteered to leave. The commission wants to make sure at least some of us are still here holding down the fort,” Kirishima clarifies. 

You wring your hands nervously. “What about Deku?” you ask. 

Bakugou is noticeably quiet, something you pick up on. “You should go home,” he says instead. Then, he trails off into something softer. “That damn nerd doesn’t know when to stop.” 

Your eyes widen, your heart picks up, and you leave. You practically race home to your apartment, to your home. 

Izuku is packing when you arrive. 

You slam the door. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

For a moment, your Izuku peaks through the cracks. He jolts, looking startled and wide-eyed. But when he realizes that it’s you at the door, that facade disappears. You are facing Pro Hero Deku now, the hero who has just volunteered to fly away from here, away from you. “My flight is leaving soon,” he says, returning to packing. 

“You’re leaving,” you echo. “Just like that?” 

“You saw the news, didn’t you?” he challenges. “Those people need me. I have to help them.” 

“Without asking me?” 

He pauses. “This isn’t something I need a second opinion on.” 

You clench your teeth together, trying to swallow the hurt. You’ve heard the stories from Bakugou about Izuku during the Liberation War - about Izuku barrelling headfirst into tracking down All For One alone, without his classmates or his support system, without regard to himself. His warnings suddenly feel like a lifetime ago. “A second opinion?” you bite. “I’m not a fucking doctor, Izuku, I’m your girlfriend. I thought we were a team. Shouldn’t I have a say in this?” 

He throws his clothes on top of the ones he has already folded in. “What is there to say? How do you expect me to stand aside when I have a way of helping these people? How could you understand, when you don’t have the power I do.” 

Ouch. You never thought he’d pull that card. Just because you don’t have a flashy quirk doesn’t mean that you don’t want to help people, it doesn’t mean that you don’t care. But your anger turns into sharp words that leave your lips without warning. “Fine,” you snap. “Do whatever the fuck you want. You’re really good at that.” 

He glares at you. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Don’t act like you don’t know anything!” you protest loudly. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t been home in weeks, because you haven’t been here. Not really, anyways. Did you know this is our first conversation in days? But not just that. You’ve been standing me up, ignoring me for months. I thought we could eventually talk about this when things at work quieted down. But things have quieted down. All the other heroes, all your friends, are having date nights and friend nights. But you aren’t. You still aren’t here with me. You just stay out there, taking one police case after another.” 

“You knew what you were doing when we started going out,” Izuku snaps back. It’s like you’ve both been holding back on each other, only waiting until now for the dam to break. “I’m the number one hero now. My quirk comes from All Might, and so do his responsibilities. I can’t always be here.” 

It’s all coming out now, you think vaguely to yourself. The anger is overpowering the hurt you should be feeling. “I know that, and I’m not asking you to always be here,” you say sharply. “I’ve always said that I just want you to consider me and care about me. But I can see that something like that is impossible for you to do.” 

Stop, your mind whispers. Anyone with eyes could see that Izuku cares. He cares more than anyone else on the planet. That’s why he’s here. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’re in love with him, and that’s why it hurts so much.

“You’re right,” he finally speaks hollowly. “How can you expect me to neglect my job? Because that job, and the people that need me…” he pauses. “Are more important than what’s here.” 

The next words you were planning to say die down in your throat, as you both are left alone in the silence of what you’ve just said to each other. What is there to say after all that? 

That’s when the hurt settles in, the insecurities threatening to swallow you alive. You know that you’ve also said some terrible things, but the knowledge that Izuku has confirmed your worst fears renders you mute. That you, for all the love in your heart you hold for the man in front of you, will always see you as second place in his life.

“Fine,” you whisper, refusing to see the empty look in Izuku’s eyes. Not like you can see it anyways with the tears fogging up what’s in front of you. “Go do whatever you want. Save the world just like you always have, Deku. But you should know that if you get on that plane, I’m done. If you get on that plane, it’s over between us.” 

You remember to grab your keys off the counter before walking out the door. 

You don’t know how far you walk, or for how long. The nighttime bustle ignores your sulking as you continue down the sidewalk. You pass by night clubs, convenience stores, other apartment buildings - but none of those matter. All you know in your heart is that this might be the end of you and Izuku. And the last thing he would remember you saying is that he doesn’t care. 

You stop in your tracks. How could you say something like that? Izuku is the number one pro hero because he cares, and he has been a consistent source of comfort in your life because he cares. Was it really okay for you to give him such an ultimatum when you never said you could make him choose between work and you? Maybe you can return back, apologize, and try to talk things out. Perhaps he didn’t mean what he said, just as you didn’t mean what you said. 

You run back to the apartment. Had you walked further than you thought? Your lungs burn with air, your legs ache as you run up the stairs, and through the front door. “Izuku?” you call out. “Izuku, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said those things…” 

But the apartment is quiet, empty of Izuku and his immediate belongings. He’s gone. 

How could he just leave? Izuku may be petty, but never aggressive when upset. Especially when something as big as this serves as a roadblock to your relationship. Especially when you don’t know when you’ll see him again. 

On instrict, your hand goes to your back pocket to check your phone but it’s not there. You pat yourself down a few times, but come up to the same conclusion. No phone. Did you have it with you when you left? You swear you left the office with it in your bag. 

Your bag. It was thrown by the door upon first arrival. You tear into it, rummaging through laptop, files, notebook and planners before producing the damn thing. The screen lights up. 

9 missed calls from Izuku <3 

Izuku <3 (6:03pm): the driver is here. I wish we had more time. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry I have to get on this plane. But people need me. I can’t just stand aside. 

Izuku <3 (6:03pm): I hope we can talk soon 

The lump comes back and doesn’t leave. It makes the tears come fast and hard, the gasps leave your throat as you throw your phone somewhere faraway before curling up against the door. Because are you not someone he cares about? Don’t you deserve to have help from him? 

You bring your knees to your chest, feeling the bitter loneliness stronger than you’ve ever felt before. You always knew that Izuku was a hero above and beyond. The pair of you have been dancing around each other for as long as you’ve known him. You really assumed that things would be alright once feelings were sorted out and Izuku showed up that night all those months ago, promising a commitment to you. But you were naive. Feelings were not enough to enact the selflessness needed to love a hero. 

. 

Just before you fall asleep that night, you vaguely remember crawling onto the couch. Your body carries a heavy weight that lots of tears usually bring, along with a sore neck and back. You sit up feeling groggy and tired, immediately searching for your phone. Although the intention is to check the date and time, you still feel disheartened when you notice Izuku has not called or texted since his previous message. 

You do, however, have some texts from Bakugou. 

boss bakugou (9:46pm): Hey, call me when you get this. I should have told you about the nerd, but thought it was better you hear it from him. Hopefully everything has worked out. 

boss bakugou (9:46pm): Or whatever. I don’t give a shit what happens to you two. 

boss bakugou (9:46pm): I’m mostly kidding. 

boss bakugou (11:02pm): Did Deku leave???? 

You blink, reading the messages many times over because your tired mind cannot process it normally. You debate reading the message, or just ignoring it and also skipping work while you’re at it. 

you (6:34am): he left 

Your fingers hover over the keyboard.

you (6:40am): it’s over 

You should know that Bakugou would be awake at this time. 

boss bakugou (6:42am): Still want to come into work?

A part of you doesn’t want to. But a tiny part of you whispers that you should. 

you (6:54am): of course 

Despite your reassurance, there is a numbness that comes with hopping into the shower and washing away the messiness of yesterday. Because no matter how long you stand underneath the water, you cannot wash away the words and feelings. 

Because was this really the end of you and Izuku? He really did leave, finalizing everything with his choice - picking the world over you. Implying that you aren’t as important as his job and the people who need him is a bold claim. It’s not something one can just make up on the spot and not mean. 

Getting dressed is harder than you thought. You have to put some spoons in the refrigerator to help with the puffiness of your eyes. You have to step into your bedroom for the first time since Izuku left to gather some clothes. For some reason, the reality of what exactly you’ve gone through with Izuku doesn’t hit you. It makes you numb, sure, but it feels like these are problems someone else is going through.

Someone who is not you, as you leave your apartment and somehow manage to find your way to the Riot Ground agency. 

Kirishima and Bakugou are in the lobby of the building as you enter. 

You aren’t going to speak first, and the heroes in front of you seem to know that. “The nerd really left?” Bakugou asks. 

You really thought you wouldn’t cry, especially after crying last night and determining that you were fine enough to work. But somehow, external forces bring up the feelings and the lump in your throat returns. You tuck your hair behind your ears, internally cursing as tears start gathering in your eyes. “Well,” you start, unable to help the way your voice catches, the way it breaks. “He made his decision clear last night.” 

“Man, he was just like this when we were kids,” Kirishima grumbles. “Always putting others before himself. I just never thought he’d do that to you.” He looks at you. “I’m really sorry. I hope he didn’t say anything stupid. He was going a little crazy during that meeting.” 

“He…” you gasp a little under the weight of your tears, hoping that neither Kirishima nor Bakugou will comment on it. “He said… our relationship wasn’t important.” You sniff. “I mean… I also said some mean things. But… I really… didn’t think… he’d leave without saying… goodbye.” 

Bakugou wordlessly passes you a tissue while Kirishima guides you down the hall into his office. Neither of them press you for details as you sit in front of Kirishima’s desk, trying to calm down. 

“Deku isn’t thinking about himself right now,” Bakugou says quietly once your gasps have died down and the tears have stopped. “When he sees that people need him, and he knows he can help, he’ll self-sabotage himself. That doesn’t excuse what he said, but he likely isn’t thinking clearly.” 

You nod slowly, not sure if you’re acknowledging Bakugou’s words or just trying to get a handle on the overall situation. “I don’t know what to do,” you whisper. 

Kirishima nods. “It’s a lot to handle. And you don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” He shakes his head. “I’m not sure what anyone would do after hearing words like that.” 

What would be the next step anyways? A text from Izuku first implies that perhaps moving the conversation along falls onto your shoulders. But what is there to say? Hey Izuku, I know you said this isn’t important to you and you left for another country for an undisclosed amount of time even though I said our relationship was over if you left. Anyways, how’s it going? 

So rather than think about it - you wait, wondering if the right moment will ever come. 

And you wait. 

But you never seem to find the words to say.

.

Midoriya Izuku is away for a year and a half. 

Your phone remains empty of his texts, his calls, or his love for the entire time. But you see him everywhere, especially on the news where the world is praising him for yet another save. Whether it’s digging people out of the rubble, or helping other countries with villain cases, or teaching society how to rebuild their communities after disasters. 

He’s in his element. His tinge of sadness is probably the knowledge that he couldn’t save everyone, you think to yourself. Always watching him on your phone, or on your laptop when a breaking news notification comes up. 

You’re sure he’s happy with his choice. After all, a year and a half with no contact is quite telling about his decision. Yours too, because you never mustered up the courage to ask how he was doing. You never talk to him. 

Yet, you hear about him enough. Not just through the news, but through your boss and colleagues. It’s hard to avoid your pro hero ex-boyfriend when you work in the hero industry and so happen to have two bosses who have known the aforementioned ex-boyfriend since high school. 

For the most part, both Kirishima and Bakugou don’t mention Izuku. They keep their opinions to themselves with everyday that goes by. They didn’t say anything when you started showing up to work without the necklace Izuku had given you, when you removed the matching phone charm, or when the couple's picture you had framed on your desk went into the trash. 

It’s a line, however, that Bakugou crosses when you give him a box of Izuku’s things - the things he didn’t bring abroad with him like his extra sweaters, books, his favorite All Might mug, and that aforementioned necklace. “Listen,” Bakugou had said. “I know things have been hard for you, having to see that nerd’s face everywhere. But I’m sure it’s been rough for him. Why don’t you give him a call?” 

“What is there to say?” you had returned softly. 

Bakugou had rolled his eyes. “How about you start with saying sorry? I’m sure he also feels the same.” 

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Would sorry be enough to make up for what you said? Would sorry be enough to make up for what he said? Would that be enough to repair the underlying issues of your relationship?

It’s a quiet year and a half. You move out of that old apartment, into a newer but smaller one. You work, eat, and sleep. You see friends on the weekends and watch dramas on the weekdays. Eventually, you stop watching the news every night. You stop getting notifications about Pro Hero Deku on your phone, which is why it comes as a big surprise when Kirishima approaches your office on a random Friday morning. He leans against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest. 

“He’s coming home.” 

Your stomach drops without meaning to. A name doesn’t need to be uttered for you to know who exactly is coming home. You continue typing out your email, doing well to ignore that feeling inside of you. “Is… is that so?” 

Kirishima nods, eying you worriedly. “The repair efforts are finally done. Deku refused to return until he knew everyone was okay.” 

Of course he would, you observe. “I-I’m glad to hear that,” you muster softly. 

Out of the corner of your eye, Kirishima is still watching you. “Ochako and Iida are hosting a welcome back party for him. I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested…” 

“Probably not,” you say, eyes not leaving your screen. “But thanks for the invite.” 

Kirishima makes a noise. “Hey, I think that Katsuki and I have been as hands-off as possible about you and Izuku - but don’t you think it’s been long enough? Why not just talk about your problems instead of avoiding them?” 

You look at him for the first time since he stopped by your office. “I’m not avoiding anything,” you point out. “Midoriya said what he needed to say. I said what I needed to say. Besides,” you look back at your screen. “It happened. He’s moved on. And so have I.” 

Kirishima walks until he’s standing right next to you. He leans back against your desk. “You’ve moved on, huh? Even more reason to go, right? That’s what a friend would do, isn’t it? Support your other friend who is returning home after a year?” 

“He has plenty of other friends,” you retort. You’re not even sure what you’re typing out anymore, but it’s better than looking at Kirishima. He’s likely disappointed in your decision. “He wouldn’t miss seeing me.” 

Your boss makes a noise of protest, but doesn’t say anything. He ends up leaving for an upcoming meeting, saving you the trouble of his further pestering. Not ever seeing Izuku again, you decide, would be the best option. 

. 

Unfortunately, life doesn’t turn out that way. Because three weeks after Midoriya Izuku’s alleged return, there is a knock on your door. 

And you, expecting a package, opens the door. Your stomach drops. “I-Izu- I… Midoriya!” you choke out, your heart suddenly feels like it is launching itself into the sun. Your stomach doesn’t fare well either. You swear it feels like it’s being wrung dry. Your mouth opens and closes a few times, eyes flying all over him as if trying to make up for the year and half you haven’t seen him in person.  

He’s different. His hair is a little shorter. It still has that curly texture at the top, over his forehead, but is that an undercut in the back? Oh dear. Today he is wearing jeans and a sweater with SWEATSHIRT in typed kanji. Well… some things are still the same. His eyes are still that deep forest green color. Today, they are sad. But they are wide, also looking you up and down like he is seeing you for the first time. 

“Hi,” you exclaim after realizing neither of you have spoken words for a concerning amount of time. You try to ignore how distant, how light your voice sounds. You eventually manage to close your mouth. “Sorry, I…” Your thoughts are scrambling. “I was expecting a package…” 

He seems to have found his voice. “O-oh!” he returns, holding up a box towards you. “That must be this. It was by your door.” 

You try hard not to look at him as you reach over. You cradle the package, glad to have something to distract you as you fiddle with the edges. The first time you’re seeing Midoriya in a year and a half, and you are uselessly mute. You do open your mouth, but only to say something stupid. “Seems like the pro hero stuff didn’t work out, if you’re a delivery boy now.” 

Midoriya blinks, quiet, and you curse yourself. 

You close your eyes for a moment, opening them to look at him. “Sorry, that was stupid to say.” 

He tries to smile. But it’s soft, sad, and doesn’t reach his eyes. You hate that you notice right away. “Not at all. C-Can I come in?” 

You inhale slowly, tucking the package behind your back as you open the door wider for him. “Sure.” You watch carefully as he enters your apartment. He leaves his shoes on, but lingers at the entrance. 

His eyes take in the new apartment. “I like the new place.” 

“Thank you,” you say. You place the package on the small table near the door. “Midoriya… what are you doing here?” 

He whirls around. “I’m actually here on business. Kacchan asked me to pick up some damage report.” 

“Oh!” That was unexpected. It’s hard to tell if it’s unwelcomed or not that Izuku actually has a reason for showing up. It’s also hard to tell if Bakugou was actually too busy to come over himself. But it seems like a waste to ponder on that. “Oh, yes. That. I can grab that for you right now.” 

You walk further into the apartment. Midoriya does take his shoes off this time to follow you. “Sorry for just showing up, by the way. I probably should have called you but…” 

You start digging through your work backpack. “Why are you apologizing?” 

“W-Well,” he stammers. “I know Kacchan sent me here on official business but… I don’t know. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m crossing a boundary or anything. I know Kacchan gave me your address, but still.” 

Perhaps he is overstepping. For a moment, memories of his neglect, of your words, flash through your mind. But where you once felt hurt now feels distant and foreign. “Not at all,” you reassure, producing the file and looking up at him. “I mean, we’ve always… been friends, haven’t we?”

If Midoriya is bothered by your question, he doesn’t show it. He smiles again. Yet, once more, it does not reach his eyes. “Yeah. Of course.” 

The silence feels like something dangerous. Izuku looks deep in thought, and it makes you panic. So you cover the distance and extend the folder towards him. “Here you go.” 

He takes it. “Thanks.” A pause. “So, uh, how have you been?” 

You rub your hands, definitely giving away the nerves. “I’m alright. Still working at Riot Ground, which is nice. I actually have to manage people… which is fun, but also nerve-wracking because there’s a team that relies on me to distribute tasks and be on top of everything.” 

“Well,” Midoriya starts. “You’ve always been really organized, so I’m sure you’re doing great. Kacchan and Eijirou always have nothing but praise for you.” 

You nod in agreement, not really thinking as you open your mouth to continue the conversation. “It’s nice that you kept in touch with them while you were away.” 

You shut your mouth but it is too late. The words have already been spoken, and you regret it at once. Why? You were content playing pretend, just as you assume he had been - but now you’ve gone and opened your big mouth. Even worse, you forgot to run your thoughts through that filter in your brain. 

Well. Not much you can do about this now. You’ve threatened the fragile peace of pretending, and now there is not much you can do independently. You pause in your movements, refusing to look at Midoriya. Instead, you stare at the wall behind him. 

But it seems like you underestimate his kind nature. He doesn’t rise to the bait. From the corner of your eye, you see his nod. “I talked to them occasionally,” he starts softly. He pauses, long enough that you look at him. He’s staring back. “I just wanted to make sure things were alright back home.” 

Your eyes widen, lips part. What exactly does he mean by that?

Your silence reads like an open invitation for Midoriya. He steps forward, opening his mouth - ! 

His phone rings, startling both of you out of whatever trance you were pulled into. You look down, shuffling. Midoriya jerks back, face shuttering before pulling out his phone. “K-Kacchan,” he grumbles. 

Noises on the other end of the line. Bakugou, likely reprimanding him for taking too long. 

After a moment, he jolts. “A-ah, you’re right! Sorry Kacchan. I got the files, I’ll head back over soon. No! No… there was no trouble. Okay.” He hangs up, looking at you. “That was Kacchan. I, uh, I should go.” 

You nod. “Uh, yeah. No problem.” 

He moves to make his leave. You follow behind just to see him out, but he turns around before he can leave. “Hey, so. Since I’m back… don’t be a stranger, okay? If you need anything, I’m here.”

Oh, a tiny voice whispers in your heart, fuck. He’s really continuing this game of pretend. 

Valid. Izuku has never been good at confrontation. Neither have you, so you give your best attempt at a smile. “Thank you… Midoriya.” 

His fingers twitch, but leaves soon after. 

. 

Pretending that you were always just friends with Midoriya is strange, but unsurprisingly normal considering your history with him. Now that he’s back home, his unexpected visit to your apartment seemed to enforce something: he’s willing to fake it as much and for as long as you are.

It starts small - hesitant texts he sends sharing something from patrol that remind him of you. Texts that transition into asking about your day, or inquiring about a show you mention. Naturally, you are hesitant to return the effort. But a small part of you, the small part that is soft on him, is elated that he is back and actually wants to talk to you. 

“Of course the nerd would still want to be friends,” Bakugou scoffs. “You clearly don’t know your own boyfriend that well.” 

“Ex,” you interrupt sharply. “Ex-boyfriend. And sorry I don’t have years of experience handling Midoriya like you do. Usually, when things end badly with an ex, ignoring each other is the bare minimum most people expect.” 

“Well,” he snaps back. “You idiot. Deku isn’t like most people.” He quiets down when he sees the guilt on your face. “What are you going to do now? I heard you were invited to Todoroki’s party.” 

That is true. Shouto himself extended the invitation to you through a text message you were surprised to get. After all, most of your friendships with the Izuku’s old classmates have slowed down a fair amount post breakup. In general, you’ve never been too big on attending gatherings of any kind. But since you and Izuku have reunited (i.e., you guys are just playing house rather than actually talk), it leaves you (once again) in a gray zone. 

You settle with just trying to stay aloof. “I was invited, yeah.” 

Bakugou glares at you. “What? You’re suddenly playing coy? You going or not?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know!!” 

He rolls his eyes. “It’s just a party. It’s not rocket science.” He pauses. “You should go.” 

“What are you, my consciousness now?” you retort hotly.

“Okay, fine,” he spits. “Go. Or don’t go. And deal with a paranoid Deku who is stupid sometimes but not stupid enough to know when you’re avoiding him.” 

You glare at Bakugou for a little longer, really hating how smart he is in spite of his brashness. You’re not really sure you can handle a confrontation with Midoriya right now, and you know that he’ll try to ask questions if you don’t show up. Especially because you know that he knows that Todoroki invited you himself. 

“Fine, fine. I’ll go just for Todoroki,” you say, defeated sigh and all. You pick up your phone to look at the time. It’s 4:30, almost time to leave work for the day. “I’ll go home first to drop my stuff off then head over, I guess.” 

“No,” Bakugou snaps, grabbing your work bag from the corner of your office. “I can see your tricks coming from a mile away. I’m not leaving you on the off-chance you’ll go home and pretend to be sick. We’re leaving now.” 

“No, wait, BAKUGOU!” you exclaim, frantically trying to shut off your electronic belongings and gather the items on your desk that need to go into that work bag. “This doesn’t even involve you, why do you care so much?” 

Bakugou whirls around in the doorframe of your office. “Because if that nerd tries to talk to me about you one more time I will blow his face off. We’re going.” 

You try to act as if Bakugou’s words have lit a fire of meekness inside of you as you follow him out of the office. “A-Are you sure we need to leave now?” you fight weakly. “K-Kirishima isn’t even back yet!” 

“Shitty Hair is patrolling until later today. He’ll be late,” Bakugou explains, practically shoving you into his car. “Besides, the sooner I get there, the sooner I can leave.” 

You huff. “Your intentions are definitely in the right place there, Bakugou.” 

He sneers at you, before turning up the radio and leaving the two of you in silence. It’s a bit of a drive to Todoroki’s house. But in Bakugou’s presence, you’ve never felt the need to speak words to fill the space. He’s enjoyed the quiet as much as you. However, today the quiet fills your mind with questions. Was it really okay for you to be at this party? Would your presence make things awkward? Was Midoriya going to be there?

Bakugou pulls up to Todoroki’s house soon, located in a quiet wealthy neighborhood away from the city. Despite the wealth that you feel in the air, Todoroki’s house is rather discreet and combines modern architecture with a traditional style. It’s beautiful - you’re simultaneously flabbergasted and impressed by how rich Shouto Todoroki is. With the high bamboo and trees, you almost don’t notice a gate on the property, unlocked by a code that Bakugou knows by heart. There’s a sizable driveway, filled with a few cars and a familiar figure that makes your heart both sing and drop. 

Midoriya is in what you assume to be his car, scrolling through his phone. His gaze lifts when he sees you and Bakugou pulling up. For a brief second, his eyes widen when looking at you. But by the time Bakugou parks and you’re hauling yourself out of the car, that glint in his eyes is gone. He’s also out of his car as well, walking over to meet you halfway.

You immediately write that previous look off as nothing. Instead, you smile and wave as you approach Midoriya. “Hi Midoriya, did you just arrive?” 

He smiles over at you. “Yeah. I was just answering a couple emails before you guys arrived.” He glances over at Bakugou with a look that is surprisingly… pensive? “Hi Kacchan.” 

Bakugou grunts in greeting as he immediately starts making his way to Todoroki’s house. 

You cast one last look at Midoriya, who is already looking at you. Feeling the awkwardness start settling in, you turn and follow after Bakugou. 

There are more people at the party than you originally thought as Todoroki opens the door to greet you. You weren’t sure what to assume, only knowing that Shouto Todoroki is a relatively private person - but there is his entire class from the UA hero course and people you can only assume to be his family. Additionally, there are people you recognize from his agency - sidekicks and his manager, who (thankfully) you know. 

Besides that, you are completely on the outside. 

Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea. 

Still, Bakugou’s warning about Deku is too prevalent to back away from. Besides, you think bitterly, you yourself had said it best to Midoriya. You’re friends. 

You see Midoriya entering the house right behind you, and immediately make a beeline down the hallway. In your mind, the excuse is that you need to use the restroom. But asking Todoroki himself would subtract the ten minutes you’re banking on to find it. You’re not sure how long you’re going to be at this party. But every minute away from an unfamiliar crowd would be best. 

You do manage to find a bathroom at the end of the hallway, telling yourself that no one is out there wondering where you are as you fix up your appearance in the mirror. 

When you open the door, Mina is on the other side. She appears to be looking for something, until she sees you and you realize she’s looking for someone. For you. 

She exclaims your name, bounding towards you. “I thought I saw you!!” 

You shouldn’t be surprised that Mina is here, but your heart feels a little lighter knowing that you know another person. While dating Midoriya, you’ve had a few lunches or general hangouts with his old classmates. Everyone was always very friendly in that ‘this is my friend’s girlfriend’ type of way. From your memory, Mina was the someone who treated you more like a friend rather than Midoriya’s girlfriend. 

“H-Hi Mina,” you manage, trying for a small smile. “How are you?” 

“I’m good,” she says, mirroring your smile. “How about you? I… heard what happened.” 

“O-Oh really,” you reply, going stiff. 

“Yeah, from Izuku. I didn’t know right away that you guys had… broken up,” Mina explains. “I was also sent overseas after that big earthquake. But I’m sure it must have been challenging. Frankly, Izuku is an idiot for what he did!” 

You soften slightly. “Well… I wouldn’t say he’s an idiot. I think he just had to do what he thought was best.”

Mina smiles. “You’ve always been so nice and understanding. I’m glad to see that you’re doing well though! We should celebrate that.” 

You blink. “What do you mean?” 

“By letting me get you a drink, of course,” she exclaims, taking your wrist and dragging you back down the hallway. You catch Midoriya’s wandering gaze, but ignore him in favor of Mina taking you to the kitchen. She boasts about the soju and sake that Todoroki let her bring before the pair of you take a couple shots together. It leaves you warm, fuzzy, giggly, and prone to wandering around. 

Eventually, as Mina gets caught up in her own group of friends, you find yourself in the backyard of Todoroki’s house - the shishi-odoshi hitting the rock and bamboo echoing in the quiet night, the sound of your shoes crunching against the sand underneath your shoes. Todoroki has a little bamboo garden in the corner, fixed with a bench and other flowers whose color reflects off light from the house. 

Still cradling the mix Mina had poured for you, you take a seat on the bench. 

It feels like you’re sitting there for hours before you hear shoes crunching against the sand. You jolt, whirling in your seat and heart dropping when you see that it’s Midoriya himself making his way towards you. 

“M-Midoriya,” you stammer, tearing your gaze away first and staring down at your drink. “Did the party get overwhelming for you too?” 

He’s quiet as he takes a seat next to you. “Sort of,” he answers vaguely. “I also noticed that you weren’t with Mina anymore. I guess, I just wanted to see where you were.” 

You look at him. “You… knew I was hanging out with Mina?” 

He looks back at you. “Of course. I remember that you guys would talk whenever you hung out with my friends. Did you have a good time with her?” 

“Y-Yeah, we were just catching up,” you return, laughing softly. “I know it may look like it, but I wasn’t avoiding you or anything.” 

“You sure?” Midoriya asks. “Because it felt like every time I tried to look at you, maybe get a hello in or something, you would look away or run away.” 

Your hands suddenly feel wet and nervous. “M-Midoriya…” 

He sighs. “And that’s another thing. You don’t call me Izuku anymore.” He looks sad again. “I thought we were friends. But you call me by my last name and you avoid me and you…” he trails off, seeming to try and hype himself up for something. “Are you with Kacchan?” 

You blink, taken aback. “Am I what?” 

He gets nervous again. “Are you… dating Kacchan?” 

“No,” you reply dryly. “I’m not with Bakugou. He just drove us straight from the office. You of all people should know that I wouldn’t date my boss…” you cut yourself off, looking back down and frantically trying to figure out a way to end this conversation. “You know,” you say, just speaking words at this point. “You don’t need to be out here keeping me company. I’m sure your hero friends are more important than this,” you try to joke, but it comes out more serious than you were hoping. Your drunken words seem to unveil something unconscious inside of you that you thought you’d move on from. Goddamnit. 

Midoriya doesn’t say anything, as the reality of what you’ve said sinks in. You really hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. But here you are: drunk, cold, hurt, and feeling stupid. 

So you laugh, a hollow sound. “Wow, how much alcohol did Mina put into this? I better go find her and ask because this shouldn’t be allowed…” You’re standing up from the bench, leaving your drink behind, those internal red lights telling you to run despite your outward attempts to look composed. 

In fact, you are about to run because it’s just too awkward. But Midoriya calls your name, softly. And you, always drawn to him, just have to look back. 

He stands, slowly walking towards you. “I don’t know why I said those things. But I’ve always felt awful. I just never had the guts to apologize earlier.” 

You wring your hands. Was he really taking the bait now? He must have been drinking too. But his gaze is clear enough to tell you he’s taking this seriously, and you’re too scared to run away. So you speak quietly. “I know why you said that. And you do too. It’s because you love your job. You can say that you’re sorry but I’ve always felt like you put everyone else’s needs before mine or yours. So… don’t say you’re sorry. Not if you don’t mean it.” 

He’s quiet long enough that you turn around, about to return inside before Midoriya speaks again. “I was being selfish,” he announces, reflective enough to stop you. You turn around. He walks right up to you. “I thought about you everyday while I was gone. Hero work has always been important to me, yes, but you are my dream. You’re who I want to be with, who I want to love. I was stupid to take advantage of that.” 

Your lips part, a sensation filling your body. Is it relief? Perhaps, anxiety? 

You don’t pull away when his hand reaches out, waiting a moment as if expecting you to pull away. When you do not, he gently cups both your cheek, a movement so soft and warm that your heart melts a little. 

But… it doesn’t feel like enough. His touch alone cannot heal the wound you’ve unknowingly covered for a year and a half. Without meaning to, your eyes water. “What… What do you want, Midoriya?” 

He exhales softly, brushing a thumb along your cheek. “I just want to be with you.” 

That makes the breath catch in your throat, making you realize you are actually torn between that relief and anxiety. Relief that he feels the same. But anxiety because you don’t know if that is enough. “I feel like I’ve waited for you my whole life. But I don’t know if I can believe you.” 

His face falls as his eyebrows furrow and he closes his eyes. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes you in, breathes out. “I know,” he whispers. “After all that, I don’t know if I’d believe me either.” 

His eyes look disheartened and full of guilt. So much so that you cannot help but gently touch his nose with your own. “I’m not entirely innocent either. I said some mean things to you that night too, and I’m sorry. I should never have said you don’t care - that was wrong of me.”

He pulls away a little, but his hands are still on your cheek. Still sad but a little bit of hope glimmers. “No, you weren’t wrong for saying that. Once things calmed down overseas, Kacchan called me and gave me a lot of shit for what I said to you. I should have stayed, or talked things over with you. I’m sorry.” 

You inhale soft, feeling a weight lift off your chest and no longer feeling like you have to make a run for it. “It’s okay.” You smile a little. “I know I just said I’d have trouble believing you. But… I do believe that.” 

He laughs a little, more like a tiny exhale. His eyes are carefully watching your face now. “I’m glad.” 

Well, you think to yourself, now that everything's out in the open, it’s probably time to ask the important question. “What does this mean for us?” 

He hums softly, hands leaving your cheeks. But he does not pull away, likely trying to enjoy this moment as you are. His hands travel down to your waist, keeping you close. “I didn’t say all those things hoping we could try being together again. But I do want to say that…” he thumbs at the skin of your hip, always needing to be touching you. “I’m here. Really. I want to be here for you and for however long it takes you to believe me again.”

Your gaze flickers between his eyes, feeling the sincerity of his confession. “Thank you,” you reply softly. “I want to believe you again, and I want us to work together on that. I just think we need more time.” 

It’s neither a full rejection nor a full commitment - but enough where Midoriya grins brightly. “I’ll give you all the time in the world.” 

. 

Honestly? At first, you think Midoriya is full of shit. Not in a bad way. Just in a tentative ‘is he really going to follow through’ perspective. You’ve always believed in Midoriya as a person. But considering the history, the daily ins and outs have required a little more work. 

Midoriya had been away for a year and a half. You may not know his favorite food anymore or his favorite movie or his favorite song to fall asleep to. But something you haven’t forgotten about him is that Midoriya always tries. 

Texts become more frequent, as Midoriya grows more eager to repair that bridge between the two of you. Surface level questions about your day turn back into similar text conversations of how things were when you were dating. He still enjoys checking up on you, asking about your day, and recalling memories that actually make you smile whilst reading them. Despite his behavior, he never actually pushes questions about your relationship. 

He trusts you to communicate, just as you start to trust him once more with your thoughts, feelings, and insecurities. You go from pretending to be alright with Midoriya to actually being alright with Midoriya. And it doesn’t fill you with doubt. It leaves you content, happy to be where you are with him. 

It comes to a headway about six months after Midoriya returns home - and you get injured at work. 

It’s nothing serious. You sprain your ankle after missing a step going down the stairs at the office. Most of the heroes you could have called were out fighting some big villain on the other side of town, so the agency itself was empty of any heroes or sidekicks. Hence, your friend from finance drives you to the hospital. A couple hours of waiting, and you are admitted and immediately given ice packs, a pillow for leg elevation, and a recommendation from the doctor to get an x-ray scan to ensure no broken bones.

You decide to give Kirishimia a call after your x-ray, reassured by the doctor that the turnaround time for the results would take a little over an hour. 

You almost regret trying to give him a call, considering what he was doing at the moment, but are surprised to hear him pick up the phone on the last ring. He calls your name, confused. “What’s going on? Is everything okay? I’m still caught up in the fight. More support has arrived so I think it’s wrapping up soon. Luckily we’ve been able to contain the damage but the first aid station is packed right now.” 

“Eijiro, I just wanted to let you know that I’m at the hospital. But I’m okay.” 

“What? The hospital? What happened? Is everything okay?” Kirishimia calls. “Do you need me to head over there?” A pause. “The police just arrived so I really do thing the fight will be over soon. Not every hero has to be present for the paperwork. I can come over right away.” 

“No, don’t,” you say. “I’m fine, it’s just a sprain. I already did the x-ray scan and am waiting to make sure nothing is broken.” You smile. “It’s alright, Eijiro. Focus on what’s more important - protecting the people.” 

Kirishima makes a tiny noise of protest, but seems to find some validity to your point. He is needed much more where he is. “Okay, fine. But call me when you hear the results.” 

You nod. “I will, thank you.” 

He hangs up, leaving you in the silence of the emergency room ward in a bed surrounded by a curtain. The waiting is long, leaving you with only your phone to occupy you. You watch some of the tailend of the big villain fight. Luckily, the damage was limited to just one of the skyscrapers due to all the heroes that rushed onto the scene. You catch sight of some familiar faces, of this echo of green lightning and immediately jump to thoughts about Midoriya. How was he doing? You hope he’s doing alright. He’s supposed to come over tonight, so perhaps you can ask him how he’s doing then. That is, if you’re able to be released from the hospital in time. 

You’re about to take a quick nap before you hear the doors to the emergency room fly open. At first, you assume it’s a patient since you are, after all, in the emergency wing. But then someone is exclaiming, “Mr. Deku, please calm down! If you just tell me who you’re looking for, I can tell you where they are. Please don’t disturb the other patients!” 

Deku’s name feels like a bolt of electricity running through you as you push yourself up to your forearms, trying hard not to apply pressure to your ankle as your eyes train themselves on the edge of the drawn privacy curtain. 

Suddenly, Midoriya appears, wide and imploring eyes that immediately zero in on you with laser sharp focus. 

“Midoriya!” you exclaim. “What-?” 

“Are you okay?” he asks, quickly walking over to stand next to you. Without warning, he takes your face in his hands. Eyes search your face, likely searching for any signs of anything physically or emotionally out of the ordinary. “What happened? Where did this happen? Who took you here? Did you drive here yourself?” 

“Midoriya,” you say carefully, firmly, watching the way he closes his mouth to let him speak. “I’m okay. I just hurt my ankle at the agency. H-How did you know I was here?” 

He sighs, releasing his hold on your face. But he moves down to your hand. “Kirishima told me. And… it’s like with anything I do. My body moved on its own and suddenly I was running here.” 

You frown up at him. “But weren’t you in the middle of a villain fight? You just left?” 

His thumb is rubbing your hand. He shrugs. “We had a lot of help. The damage was at a minimum and things were wrapping up anyways.” 

You look down, still lost. “But you love finishing up cases. You love reassuring people and always needing to make sure that other people are okay.”

His movement ceases, a time of silence he takes to kneel next to your bed. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly. You, helpless, look at him. “I know I was really bad at expressing this back when we were together. But I need you to know that you’re part of those people too. Not just that, but you’re the person I want to reassure the most and the person I need to make sure is the most okay. I’m sorry if you were thrown off by my arrival.” 

“No, not at all,” you reassure quickly, tightening your hold on his hand. “I was surprised, but in a good way.” 

He brightens at that, straightening up and kissing your forehead. “Okay. And I’m glad to see that you’re okay. Are they going to release you soon?” 

You nod. “I think so. I got an x-ray, so a doctor will be giving me the report soon. They just want to make sure that nothing is broken.” 

Midoriya brings your hand to his chest. “Can I wait here with you?” 

You give him a private smile. “I’d like that.” 

So Midoriya sits on the bed with you. Neither of you talk about his confession or what it means for the both of you. You just sit and joke around like no time has passed. He’ll occasionally fuss over your ankle, but it doesn’t last long. The doctor comes around and confirms no broken bones. He follows it up with strict orders to rest for the next four to six weeks before allowing you to leave. 

The doctor comments about how nice it is for your boyfriend to take time off from heroing to see you off. You smile, hold Midoriya’s hand, and try to sort through the butterflies in your stomach. 

.

Four to six weeks later, you take the subway to Midoriya’s neighborhood. His house is a place you’ve been to once, solely for work purposes so you still have the address on your phone. To be honest, you’re not even sure if Midoriya is home in the middle of the day. It’s Sunday, his new day off (or so he’s told you), so you imagine that he’s likely home resting. You hope so anyways. 

Well, only one way to find out. You knock on the door with one hand, using the other to balance the tray of breads and desserts you’ve just picked up from that expensive bakery in the city. If he isn’t home, you might just have to leave it on the front steps… 

The door swings open, revealing Midoriya in his casual attire of jeans and a shirt that says SUNDAY on the front.

You make it a point not to stare at the shirt in favor of looking at Midoriya’s frantic look. “Hi,” you greet cheerfully, holding up the box of pastries. “I wanted to bring you something.” 

“Baby, what are you doing?” he asks, dragging you in by the waist. “You just got out of the hospital, you shouldn’t be walking right now!” He’s pouting cutely. He’s been more generous with his touches and nicknames since your return to the hospital, and it’s put you on a hopeful high where maybe… perhaps… he’s down to go out and give this another shot. 

“I’m fine, Izuku,” you say mindlessly, not trying to fight your way out of his hold. You just hold up that box of pastries. “I was on strict house arrest orders from my boss and got daily visits from a certain someone so not only am I very well-rested, I am antsy. I’m not allowed back at work so it’s only right that I get a little bit of exercise. And I know how much you love this bakery and… are you okay?” 

You stop because Midoriya is looking at you with that soft smile on his face - the same kind of smile he’d wear before telling you something important. 

“No, it’s nothing,” Midoriya brushes off. He just takes the box from you and rests it on the table near his door. “You just called me Izuku.” 

A little bit of your cheerful disposition from before vaporizes. “Oh. Um, yes… I did.” You gaze up at him. You were speaking a little too freely. Even though you and Midoriya are in a really good spot, there are still some things that haven’t been firmly established yet. Like, for example, what the specific label of your relationship was. “Is that too much? It sort of just slipped out, I’m sorry…” 

“No, don’t apologize,” he says hastily, wrapping his arms back around you. “I guess with what happened between us and your trip to the hospital… things have just been feeling different.” 

“They have!” you say, a little relieved. So his question wasn’t for disappointment, it was just curiosity. Again, you’ve underestimated his kindness and his love for you. But you refuse to back down again. “I… actually came here for another reason.” 

His gaze is still trained on you. 

You keep your head up. “I’m here to ask you out.” 

Midoriya tilts his head, not fully understanding. “You wanna get lunch?”

“No, no, I meant… like, I want to go out with you. Date you. Try being your girlfriend again.” 

His eyes widen, bringing you closer to him. “Are you serious? You… you want to try dating? You… believe in me now?” 

His words from Todoroki’s party flash in your mind: I just want to be with you.

You nod. “I really believe in the things you’ve been doing to balance your life out more. I know you’re doing those things for yourself, and seeing you make the choice to take a day off or seeing me at the hospital made me happy. It makes me want to try being with you again, knowing that we’ve grown enough to put in our best effort.” 

Midoriya smiles at that, big and bright as he cups your cheeks. “I promise you that I’ll never make you regret this.” And you, filled with so much love and hope for this, kiss him. He kisses you back, firm, simultaneously scooping you up in his arms. 

You gasp out against his mouth, that shock turning into a fit of giggle. “Izuku, what are you doing?” 

“I’m protecting your ankle!” he points out playfully. “Want to come down?” 

You pretend to contemplate. He’s lifting you up so easily. “Hmm, actually no. Maybe I’ll just stay here and let you lead the way.” 

He leans up towards you, signaling what he wants next. You indulge him easily, leaning down halfway to press your forehead against his. He closes his eyes, breathes you in. “I definitely intend to,” he says.