#traci writes for mha

[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. 

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #mha writing #bnha writing #mha smut #bnha smut #mha fluff #bnha fluff #midoriya imagine #midoriya fluff #midoriya smut #midoriya izuku fluff #midoriya izuku smut #traci writes for mha

[yourbpdgf]

rules+whoiwritefor ???

rules ?

• no piss,, shit,, fart kinks cs ew

• no pedophilia

• i dnt write male readers,, only gender neutral or fem!reader

• requests r always open

note ? i write in my own style: lowercase,, double commas,, no apostrophes,, slang,, etc .

?

fandoms + characters i write for:

?

artists ?

chief keef

ddosama

destroy lonely

ddot

evvls,, jaydes,, yen

juice wrld

king von

ken carson

kodak black

lil tracy minaj

lucki

luh tyler

playboi carti

skimask

trippie redd

xxxtentacion

young thug

?

creepypasta ?

bloody painter

eyeless jack

laughing jack

homicidal liu

jane the killer

jeff the killer

ticci tobi

?

bungo stray dogs ?

chuuya nakahara

edgar allen poe

fyodor dostoyevsky

nikolai gogol

osamu dazai

ranpo edogawa

yumeno kyusaku (Only platonic or child reader x Yumeno, no smut hes like 10.)

?

danganronpa ?

celestia ludenberg

ibuki mioda

kokichi oma

nagito komaeda

rantaro amami

shuichi saihara

?

Genshin Impact:

Albedo Kreideprinz

Chongyun

Columbina

Cyno Mahamatra

Diluc Ragnvindr

Diona (Platonic)

Dori (Platonic)

Fischl

Gorou

Hu Tao

Itto Arataki

Kazuha Kaedehara

Klee (Platonic)

Kokomi Sangonomiya

Mona Megistus

Qiqi (Platonic)

Raiden Ei

Razor

Rosaria

Sayu (Platonic)

Shenhe

Tighnari

Venti

Xiao

Yae Miko

Zhongli

Haikyuu:

Akira Kunimi

Atsumu Miya

Kei Tsukishima

Keiji Akaashi

Kenjiro Shirabu

Kenma Kozume

Kentaro Kyotani

Kiyoko Shimizu

Kiyoomi Sakusa

Kotaro Bokuto

Osamu Miya

Rintarou Suna

Satori Tendou

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Mahito

Megumi Fushiguro

Ryomen Sukuna

Toge Inumaki

Toji Fushiguro

Yuji Itadori

Naruto:

Deidara

Gaara

Hinata Hyuga

Kiba Inuzuka

Naruto Uzumaki

Neji Hyuga

Sasori

Sasuke Uchiha

Shikamaru Nara

Obey Me:

Asmodeus

Barbatos

Beelzebub

Belphegor

Leviathan

Mammon

Satan

Tokyo Revengers:

Emma Sano

Hajime Kokonoi

Haruchiyo "Sanzu" Akashi

Izana Kurokawa

Kazutora Hanemiya

Keisuke Baji

Manjiro Sano

Nahoya "Smiley" Kawata

Ran Haitani

Rindou Haitani

Seishu Inui

Senju "Kawaragi" Akashi

Shuji Hanma

Souya "Angry" Kawata

Takashi Mitsuya

Wakasa Imaushi

Twisted Wonderland:

Floyd Leech

Idia Shroud

Jamil Viper

Leona Kingscholar

Lilia Vanrouge

Malleus Draconia

Riddle Rosehearts

Ruggie Bucchi

Silver Vanrouge

Vil Schoenheit

YuGiOh (Duel Monsters and Arc V):

Atem

Chazz Princeton

Duke Devlin

Ishizu Ishtar

Joey Wheeler

Mai Valentine

Marik Ishtar

Maximillion Pegasus

Ryou Bakura

Seto Kaiba

Sora Perse

Yami Bakura

Yami Marik

Yami Yugi

Yugi Muto

Yuya Sakaki

Thief King Bakura

Miscellaneous:

Adrien Agreste (Miraculous)

Amane "Hanako" Yugi (TBHK)

Ayato Kirishima (Tokyo Ghoul)

Ban (Seven Deadly Sins)

Bellatrix Lestrange (Harry Potter)

Camilo Madrigal (Encanto)

carlos madrigal

ciel phantomhive

connie springer

Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter)

Dabi (MHA)

Denki Kaminari (MHA)

Eren Yeager

Gowther (Seven Deadly Sins)

Himiko Toga (MHA)

Hotaro Oreki (Hyouka)

Iguro Obanai

Illumi Zoldyck (HxH)

Isaac "Zack" Foster (Angels of Death)

Karma Akabane (Assassination Classroom)

Ken Kaneki (Tokyo Ghoul)

Killua (HxH) (No Smut)

Kusuo Saiki (TDLOSK)

Levi Ackerman

Meguru Bachira (Blue Lock)

Merlin (Seven Deadly Sins)

Micah Yujin (Error143)

Mikasa Ackerman

Mitsuri Kanroji

Muichiro Tokito

Nagi Seishiro (Blue Lock)

Ray (TPN) (No Smut)

Ray "Saeran" Choi (Mystic Messenger)

Rin Okumura (Blue Exorcist)

Rodrick Heffley (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

Ryuunosuke Chiba (Assassination Classroom)

Sae Itoshi (Blue Lock)

Saeran Choi (Mystic Messenger)

Saeyoung "707" "Luciel" Choi (Mystic Messenger)

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Suit!Saeran Choi (Mystic Messenger)

Unknown (Mystic Messenger)

masterpost

#rules #who i write for #aot x reader #creepypasta x reader #danganronpa x reader #demon slayer x reader #genshin x reader #haikyuu x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #naruto x reader #obey me x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #yugioh x reader #miscellaneous x reader #attack on titan masterlist #aot masterlist #creepypasta masterlist #danganronpa masterlist #demon slayer masterlist #genshin masterlist #haikyuu masterlist #naruto masterlist #jjk masterlist #tokyo revengers masterlist #obey me masterlist #yugioh masterlist #error143 masterlist #blue lock masterlist #rappers x reader

[chasing-chimeras]

and here are some random things to start a conversation

what is your favorite band/singer?

here are mine: girl group: little mix. boy group: all time low/mcfly. singer: taylor swift/ed sheeran

i wanna thank you again for your little comment on my fic, it was so cute that I melted reading it. i'm really glad you liked it. i was influenced by the writing of t-swift and casey mcquiston bc one last stop was the last book i read.

what ships do you write about? is it just thiam or do you write about others too?

i think theo, tracy, and malia would make a really cool chaotic trio --- with tracy being the smart one for... reasons (as much as liam and hayden would make a chaotic duo --- not romantically, bc, well. thiam. like i said in my last post i'm still watching s4 but i still remember the reaction i got when hayden was talking about her bad idea of ​​getting a ghost rider captured and liam was asking if the idea could work and hayden said something about agreeing and the idea being terrible and all and liam was like "great" and that gives me a lot of chaotic duo vibes

ab theo, tracy and malia... well they already have the connection and everything, which i love. I just think they would be a really cool and fun trio. and come to think of it, when I was jotting down some stuff for one of my thiam ideas that I haven't put into practice yet, I ended up falling in love with malacy (yes, I made up a name at my 3am brainstorming party in my head)

as you can see, i have soooo many thoughts jsjhzbsbsj 😂🤭

I love this 🖤 I always love seeing everyone's music tastes, bc I've found so much great stuff this past year from all of you. Ummmm as far as favorite singer, I think I've gotta go with either Conan Gray or Taylor, very basic 💀 I have a lot more less predictable stuff on most of my spotify playlists and neither of them were in my top 5 which was weird, but I think I'd say I like their voices the most

ofc I loved reading it, I had to leave all my thoughts 🖤🖤🖤

As of rn I just write thiam, but I've thought about some others. I could see myself writing Nabrielise (Nathan/Gabriel/Annalise) from Half Bad (pls watch if you haven't!!!! it's so good!!!!!), Kiribaku from MHA, or Steddie from Stranger Things, but no plans any time soon.

I love a throuple and you're right, there's definitely chemistry there. And yeah Liam and Hayden are an incredibly chaotic duo, I just started my season 6 rewatch after finishing Half Bad, and watching them drag Theo around and trying to capture a ghost rider has been great lol

#i'm on my laptop rn and it physically pains me to type in lowercase on a keyboard so you all have to look at my proper punctuation im sorry #🍒

[cupofteaguk]

traci!! do you read bnha fics? if so do you have any recs?? midway through s3 now and im soooo enamoured this show's got me by my heartstrings

CAMI!!! and i dOOOOOO omfg i have TRULY fallen down the rabbit hole so yes i have some recs!!!!!!! i mainly read todoroki + bakugo so hopefully that’s what you’re in the market for today ma’am 💕 and if you’re interested in diff characters some of these blogs i’m gonna mention below have recs, but hopefully this’ll be a good starting point for you !! 

gonna continue this under the cut because this kind of..... turned into a fic rec list paired with ‘traci gushes over writers who don’t know her’  uhhhhh HAHAH i still hope this is helpful cami <3 

jealousy for dummies + she’s my wife by @myherowritings​ are just two of my favorites fic from sof..... written for todoroki and bakugo respectfully. but let’s face it all of sof’s bnha fics are really good. this is actually less of a case of ‘these of my fav fics’ and more something along the lines of ‘these are just the first fics i read from her so i just have a soft spot for these specific fics while in reality it’s all fucking amazing’ type of vibe. sofa’s fics are all just a world class chefs kiss !!! 

next i think i would just recommend anything @burnedbyshoto has written. i don’t think i could pick any specific fics because first of all it’s all good and second of all she has two whOLE SEPARATE MASTERLISTS FOR MHA CHARACTERS!!!!!!!!! very high class royalty!!!!!!!!! sorry idk if i’m ever gonna shut up about the two masterlists because that is just so fucking cool to me LMAO !!! (pssss but if u want some starter fics i’d recommend fifteen kisses for the cotton candy fluff heaven and then house sitting & concupiscence fOR THE ABSOLUTE SINNING HELL THAT I REALLY DO LOVE SO MUCH) 

@andypantsx3​ ........ okay let me take a minute to compose myself..... because Andie...... clenches fists..... writes the best version of todoroki i’ve ever read......... and i’m saying that with my whole fucking chest. will def recommend if i could keep cool + conspire for todoroki fics. her bakugo fic cover shot (through the heart) is also very 10/10. 

@shoutogepi is also very talented. worth the wait was a very VERY good TEN COURSE MEAL 10/10 stars, could feed me for days. 

libido by @todosweetheart is also supperr good and a classic piece of literature tbh. it was probably one of the first todoroki fics i’ve ever read just in general. 

i’d alsooooo recommend @todoscript , @tteokdoroki , @todorkihoe !!!!! 

(and also to any of these mha writers who open this.... i love all of u HAHAHAHAH) 

#cami i hope we pm one day to talk about my hero academia #and also talk about our future todoroki fics <3 #replied #hansolmates

[cupofspicymiko]

!! HQ, MHA, AOT & JJK nsfw fic recommendations by traci (cupofmiko) !! 

FIRSTLY. this is a 18+ blog. MINORS DON’T INTERACT. THIS PAGE REBLOGS NSFW AND DARK CONTENT!!!!!! 

SECONDLY. see my main navigation link below to navigate tags, animes, and characters! 

THIRDLY. if you continue through this blog, you are acknowledging that you have blocked the appropriate tags and understand that you can click away from this blog at any point you feel uncomfortable. i made this blog entirely for myself so it literally does not matter to me nor affect me in any way if you follow, unfollow, or don’t like the content here. the only reason this page is connected to my account is because i like sharing things i enjoy with other people. this page is for adults, so you are responsible for the material and the content that are you consuming.

FOURTHLY. here are my links! enjoy your stay! 

main navigation link 

my writing blog!! — sfw fic recs

[chinasexdating832]

Just Lunch Dating Norwalk Connecticut

The It's Just Lunch team is dedicated to you, and this is our commitment to our clients: To guide you through the It's Just Lunch dating process so you can have a fun, successful dating experience. To understand your relationship goals and work closely with you to achieve them.

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Meet Terra & Keith

Best Lunch Restaurants in Norwalk, Connecticut: Find Tripadvisor traveler reviews of THE BEST Norwalk Lunch Restaurants and search by price, location, and more. If you are just trying to meet a single girl online, then you probably don't need this knowledge yet. But still, what is resentment in a Just Lunch Dating Westport Connecticut relationship? Resentment is a feeling of dissatisfaction and mistreatment that develops very slowly. In the Just Lunch Dating Westport Connecticut majority of cases, it. By choosing It’s Just Lunch, you’ve opened yourself to a world of new possibilities you might never have thought of or expected. After 29 years of helping singles find each other, we know that having someone on your team helping you navigate the complex world of dating is a surefire way to getting you closer to real chemistry. Sometimes you just don't feel like dressing up, so if you want to keep things more casual, locations like Sand Wedge Deli & Catering, R & G Grocery & Deli Corp, or Los Portales are great options for enjoying good food in Norwalk, CT. There are 81 other restaurants that are also great options for casual dining in Norwalk.

I had the initial call (with It’s Just Lunch) and told my matchmaker, Mike, the qualities I was looking for. I wanted a partner that was kind, loving, driven, smart, supportive, good with kids and a Christian among other things. I also wanted someone that wanted to stay in Hawaii long term. I think the thing with dating apps is there was no way to search or ‘filter’ for most of those qualities. Mike told me it might take a few weeks, just depending on how long it took to find someone that had what I was looking for.

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Read more about Terra’s dating journey here.

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Jacquie Caro-Szutar: Civil Engineer

Education: Masters of Science

Interests: Skiing, family

Troy Stark, Business Owner

Interests: hiking, golf, volunteering

Heather (Nix) Stark, Senior Portfolio Manager

Interests: ½ marathons, kayaking, wine tasting

Christoff Koch: Chief Scientific Officer/ Professor

Education: PhD, University of Tubingen, Germany

Interests: Cycling, writing, mountaineering, travel

Teresa Ward: Professor, University of Washington

Education: PhD, UC San Francisco

Interests: Triathlons, skiing, theater

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Kevin Hughes: Head of beqom Labs, Microsoft

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[mental-health-advice]

What do you do when you start to really hate yourself? Like everything about yourself, personality, looks, where you're at in life etc. To the point where it starts to make you angry and you hate everything else around you.

Hello Beautiful,

I’m absolutely sorry you’re feelingthis way. Your soul is worth so much love, please try not to be so hard onyourself.  Try to determine what triggers these emotions. Who can youconnect with today that will be able to talk with you? Is there a friend,family member, therapist you can explain what you’re feeling? Seek professionalhelp if you need to.  Leave them a text message, short email, phone callor even ask to go out to a coffee shop. Plan a weekend movie night to vent oreven take a break.

“You don’t need to change.You are good enough now. You’re complete. You don’t need rock hard abs. Youdon’t need perfect complexion. You don’t need to beat yourself up. You don’tneed makeup to look beautiful. Tell yourself this when you wake up in the morning.Repeat these words when you’re insecure. Be your own best friend. Theworld becomes a kinder place when you’re kind to yourself. “-Kristen

Remember you’re not alone! There aremany types of people who feel this way. And every day might be a struggle, confidenceis tough to achieve. So start forming a positive support system (respect,loyalty, encouragement). Look for groups in your area who are open-minded aboutbody image and moving forward. Join  Zumba (dance class), or make your ownat home with friends.

Refresh your day. Try to notice thelittle beautiful unique things you see in the mirror. Your eyes, nose,freckles, lashes.  Your body is magnificent. Take your time, don’t noticethe clock unless you need too (if so place a alarm on).

Self love ideas:

Get more rest, find time during your day for a short     nap

Go out for a walk in the daytime

Take your pet out, talk to him/her

When someone smiles at you, or says anything good write  it down on a small paper and put it in a jar. 

Add snap chat on your phone and send silly pictures to   your friends and family!

Links:

http://body-peace.tumblr.com/

Body Image

Mindfulness

Web Counselling

Quotes : (Write them down, Repeat out loud!)

“You are powerful, beautiful, brilliant and brave”

“Health goes beyond our physical body. It is not just  about what we put in our bodies or take out of it, it is also about our emotions and how we are feeling spiritually.”-Katherine Hurst

“You owe yourself the love that you so freely give to other people”-fb/idealist

“It’s not selfish to love yourself, take care of  yourself and to make your happiness a priority. It’s necessary”.-Mandy Hale

“Learn to value yourself, which means: fight for your  happiness.”- Ayn Rand

“Your value does not lie in how your body looks”

“And I said to my body. Softly. I want to be your  friend. I took a long breath. And replied, I have been waiting my whole life for this.” – Nayyirah Waheed

“Today, take a look at how far you have come. Yes, you     have come so very far on your journey. Keep looking up..stay positive keep     moving forward.”- Heather Stillufsen

Soul Music:

Macy Gray - I Try

Fast Car by Tracy Chapman

Alessia Cara - Scars To Your Beautiful

Christina Aguilera – Beautiful

Nahko Bear 

GREAT SPIRIT

Songs to dance to:

Shakira - Waka Waka

Beyoncé - Let’s Move Your Body

Michael Jackson - Black Or White

AC/DC – Thunderstruck

Kiesza – Hideaway

 Sending you the warmest hug ever. Ihope that I helped you even just a little and that you know we are here if you need us .

“Lots of love & Bloom fromwithin”!

mha- Lupita

#mentalhealthadvice #mentalhealth advice #adviceblog #help #bodyimage #self confidence #emotions #expressions #Anonymous

[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.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha writing #bnha writing #mha smut #bnha smut #mha fluff #bnha fluff #midoriya imagine #midoriya fluff #midoriya smut #midoriya izuku fluff #midoriya izuku smut #traci writes for mha

[cupofmiko]

HELP — bakugou katsuki x f!reader 

five times Bakugou saves you. 

genre: strangers to lovers au, pro hero! katsuki | fluff, smut 

warnings: aged up characters, Bakugou’s characterization is a little rough around the edges bUT I TRIED MY BEST, Bakugou’s hero name is the hero name he picked in chapter 293 (according to Google) but a manga spoiler warning for that, Bakugou is a little mean but he’s also soft and i can’t tell if that’s out of character but oh well, silent pining, depictions of a villain attack, cell phones that work in underground tunnels idk how accurate that is but please don’t come for me on that one, Bakugou uses a pet name (sweetheart) because I thought sure why not, making out, smut at the end! SMUT: brief nipple play, cunnilingus, unprotected sex 

word count: 10k 

a/n: based on the prompt “I scraped my knee and now you’re fixing it up and I swear if you don’t stop running your hands over my leg I will kick you”

(1) 

It happens on a Thursday evening, where your once hopeful aspirations to finally clean through your apartment are dashed away by a cockroach that seems to have found a home on your kitchen counter. 

The sight of the winged creature with its six legs and antennas perched comfortably on the marble surface next to your sink elicits a scream from you as you drop your collection of cleaning equipment onto the floor. Your hands fly up to your face, shielding you as if that would be an effective method of blocking a bug away. Without checking to see the position of the cockroach, you dash away from the kitchen and down the hallway into your bedroom. 

Once you are a safe distance away, you resort yourself to huffing and puffing—attempting to calm yourself down after the onslaught of fight or flight has flooded your system. Cockroaches aren’t necessarily uncommon in your apartment building, but the absence of your roommate feels like you’ve been deprived of the extra support system needed to face a creature from your nightmares. 

“Okay, you can do this,” you grunt to yourself, clenching fists together and attempting to channel words of encouragement to yourself. “It’s just a bug. More scared of you than you are of it.” 

The words elicit a confidence inside of you that lasts about five seconds, because you walk back out into the kitchen with a swiffer in hand only to find that the cockroach is not on the counter like before. Instead, it has now latched itself onto the wall next to the kitchen. The new sight is startling and unexpected, causing you to yelp before you hurtle your swiffer straight into the wall. 

Your intention with your swiffer is unclear—most likely to try and smash the cockroach, but that does not go as planned. Your aim is off due to the anxiety of your fight or flight warnings, serving more as a warning shot for the cockroach. In response, it startles the bug, causing it to fly straight toward you. 

You scream, flinching away from the buzzing cockroach, all before you trip over the couch and fall onto the floor. “Ouch!” you crow, pushing yourself up with your hands, glaring at the cockroach who appears to have found a new home on your ceiling. Likely, it is laughing at your dumbassery, smelling your fear like fresh bread from the oven. 

From your position on the floor, you think that perhaps there is a more direct way to corner the cockroach and ensure its fate—maybe if you hit it with more force or entrapped it in something… 

You’re about to straighten up into a standing position before the front door to your apartment explodes, causing you to jump as you hastily get to your feet. You rush to the front of your apartment, swiffer still in hand, as you watch the hinges of your door blow out from the wall, before the door falls right at your feet. Your head snaps up towards the entrance of your apartment, wondering who the fuck would think to bombard your unit at the time like this. 

At the door frame stands a gruffed looking boy, likely around your age, with blonde hair whose appearance is not unlike the flames of a fire—all points and spikes. His piercing red eyes scan the interior space of your apartment, a fiery stare that is highlighted with the mask that dawns over his face. 

For a split second, the aura of your intruder makes your heart drop in your chest. Is this a villain? Perhaps his power is to communicate with cockroaches and he’s just trying to save his henchman? Or perhaps the connection goes deeper, and you are about to be in very serious trouble. 

Your eyes continue to stay wide, your feet continue to stay planted on the ground, as you watch the boy storm your apartment. His gaze fixes on you, eyes red and piercing as he scans through your living room space. Without a warning, he steps forward so he can stand between you and the rest of the apartment, bringing an arm up to shield you. It takes you a second to realize that this person is the complete opposite of a villain—he’s a hero. More than that, a top ten hero: the infamous Dynamight from UA. 

The process of information makes your cheeks run hot. What was a top ten hero doing in your trashy apartment along the edge of nowhere? 

He’s still watching your apartment, as if something is going to come out and attack. “Are they coming out from there?” he asks, barely sparing you a glance over his shoulder. His main attention seems to rest inside your apartment. Or, at least what he thinks is inside your apartment. 

So you blink. “I’m sorry?” you squeak out. Last time you checked, pro heroes did not come in to take care of bug problems. On top of that, you’re almost positive that you did not make any sort of call about the cockroach. 

He stares at you for a moment longer this time. “Aren’t you being attacked right now?” 

Your eyes widen. “I’m being attacked right now?” 

The boy straightens slightly, paling at how his briefly overprotective nature might not be necessary for this situation. “You mean you’re not? There are no villains in your apartment?” 

Your eyes flicker to the side for a moment, before returning back to Dynamight. “Not that I’m aware of?” 

He relaxes, but still looks vaguely embarrassed—especially considering he had come in thinking that you were undergoing a villain attack. But you don’t think his meekness should compare to your own complete humiliation, and it shows in how you can’t even look at the hero now standing before you. 

Dynamight must be used to citizens who cannot manage normal communication with him, because he somehow seems to find the situation interesting enough to continue a conversation. “You caused your downstairs neighbor a fright, you know.” 

You flash your teeth nervously, shifting your gaze back to Dynamight. “Really?” 

The boy stares at you, hands now resting at his side. After a moment of holding eye contact with you, he looks around your apartment, carefully shuffling about. “I heard you hit the wall and fall over something? What was that all about then?” 

You gaze down, pressing your lips together. For a moment, you debate just not saying anything about the cockroach. You wonder how much trouble you would get into claiming that you were actually attacked by villains and sending this hero on a false breadcrumb trail. 

However, the look in his eyes tells you that he already has a vague idea of what is happening. So you sigh and bring your thumb to your lip, biting nervously at the nail. “There’s a cockroach in here,” you relent, gesturing deeper into your apartment. 

With a nod from you, Dynamight steps towards the kitchen—where his gaze fixates on the wall before he lets out a hum. “Yep, there is it.” 

You open your mouth to say something, anything honestly, before his hand comes out and he catches the cockroach in between his fingers. 

He gazes back at you. “You got a balcony or something?” he inquires lowly. 

You nod hastily, gesturing towards the sliding door that leads onto the outside extension of your apartment. Dynamight follows you outside, where he holds his hand out and lets go of the cockroach, watching carefully as it flies away. He handles the creature with a startlingly amount of care—especially considering that Dynamight isn’t known for having the most outwardly enthusiastic personality. Bakugou Katsuki, that’s his name. 

He looks over at you, and you look away. 

“This is really embarrassing,” you grumble without warning, having not prepared to make small talk with a pro hero. Especially Bakugou Katsuki, whose piercing gaze frightens you slightly and makes you feel like he already knows more about you than you know about yourself. 

Luckily, Bakugou must be used to these kinds of interactions—a byproduct of the job. “You got scared from a cockroach, that’s pretty normal. Although I will say that this is the first time I thought villains had overrun your apartment just based on the noise from inside. Anything else going on in here that’ll make me think you’re getting murdered or something?” 

You glance at him, noticing that he’s still staring at you. Had you not known any better, and you’d think he’s trying to crack a joke with you. At the very least, he does not look too annoyed. Above his already constant expression of vague irritation. At his curious glance, you try for a weak smile. “None that I can think of at the moment.” 

At that, he looks away. “Well, if something comes up I’m sure I’ll hear about it from your neighbor.” 

Your body warms up in embarrassment at his words. “She just worries easily. Feel free to ignore her for future reference if you don’t want to see me make a fool of myself again. I won’t say anything that’ll tarish your hero reputation.” 

Bakugou shrugs. “It’s been through a lot already.” 

As the boy leaves for the night, you realize that he never addressed your proposal to ignore your neighbor when it came to you—which is something you mentioned just in case Bakugou did not want to deal with any ridiculous situation you created. But you brush the thought away as soon as it appears. Perhaps he just did not hear you, or did not take you seriously. After all, why would this pro hero want to see you again? 

(2) 

About a week later, your roommate comes home from work with bags of raw ingredients from some street market and a strange desire to cook dinner. It’s strange because you and Karly are more familiar with the udon restaurant on the corner of your street than with your own kitchen, but her enthusiasm is enough to make you forget the fact that neither of you know how to operate the toaster-oven on the counter. 

“Shit, I told you this would be a bad idea!” you crow about twenty minutes later, having just pushed a chair underneath the smoke detector and currently trying to fan smoke away from the machine. A few feet away is the toaster-oven, with smoke curling out and around the appliance signalling that the homemade pizza Karly wanted to make has officially burned through. 

“How was I supposed to know that broiling something makes the oven go hotter than just setting a temperature?” Karly retorts back, pouting as she turns off the toaster-oven in an attempt to slow the smoke that’s pouring out. It’s a little late though—the smell of burnt pizza wafts through the air and the smoke feels like film has just been placed over your eyes. All the sights around you feel like the saturation has gone down slightly. 

Up ahead, Karly has rushed into the living room to start opening up some windows, where you can only hope that the cool spring breeze will help diffuse the light. For now, it seems like the biggest problem is just getting your damn smoke alarm to turn off, as to not disturb the neighbors more than you already have—! 

The pounding on your front door makes you momentarily think that your neighbors have likely been disturbed far too much already, but it’s a thought that heights in both curiosity and fear when the door actually bursts open, hitting the wall behind it. A vaguely familiar voice, deep and friendly, echoes through the hallway and into the kitchen where you’re located. “Everything okay in here?” 

“Yes, I’m so sorry!” Karly responds, emerging from the living room and making her way down the hallway first in order to address the newest arrivals. Heroes, perhaps, judging from Karly’s compliance to conversation. “It’s just something burning in the kitchen…” 

At that, there’s a series of footsteps that creep down the hallway into the kitchen, before you’re met with two heroes you did not think you’d ever see in your shitty apartment—and for one hero, it’s someone you never thought you’d see again. 

From the chair, you glance over to see Red Riot and Dynamight, and a small team behind them standing at the entrance of your kitchen. Of the two heroes that you can recall straightaway, one looks vaguely surprised and the other looks entirely unamused. 

Still, you manage a full teeth grin. “Hi there,” you greet, trying to sound as casual as possible despite the fact that you’re standing on a chair in the middle of the kitchen with a giant fan in hand. You turn to Bakugou. “Nice to see you again,” you exclaim, maintaining a broad and very uncomfortable grin. “I see that you’ve brought along a whole crew this time.” 

Bakugou continues to gaze at you with his unamused expression. “I had a vague idea of what to expect, and somehow it was everything and nothing at the same time. I even brought a team with me in the unlikely chance that your neighbor’s call was actually serious.” 

You stare at him from your place atop the chair. “Does this not look serious?” 

He scans the kitchen for a moment, before he spots the toaster-oven—smoke still pouring out and all. He sighs. “You do realize that whatever is in there is still burning right?” 

You glance over at the oven, turning back to look at the heroes before you. “I-Isn’t that what you’re all here for?” You turn to look at Red Riot, the red-haired hero with a hardened arm extended out. He seems to relax when he realizes the situation isn’t calling for any sort of defense attacks. “Nice to meet you.” 

Kirishima smiles at you. “N-Nice to meet you too,” he stammers. “I didn’t know you knew Dynamight.” 

Without a warning, Bakugou hits his friend on the shoulders. Hard. “Stop flirting,” he barks with enough venom to surprise you. “You’re here to work.” 

Kirishima pouts. “Dude, what’s your problem?” At Bakugou’s hard look, he relents. “Okay, fine. I’ll clear out the oven.” He hardens his hands, probably to make sure they don’t get burned as he handles the burning pizza in the oven. A few of the other heroes from the group join him. 

You stare at Bakugou as he instructs the heroes he brought along to various tasks: open all the windows, try to bring the toaster-oven out onto the balcony to help diffuse the smoke, and clear out the smoke from within the apartment as thoroughly as possible. He takes command of the situation with such practiced ease that you cannot help but stare. But you make sure to stay rooted to your chair—given that his snappy attitude fills you with a vague sense of worry. Would he scold you the same way he scolded his friend? He didn’t do any of the sort during his last visit, but it seems like he has put in more effort to come to your rescue this time. 

Your eyes widen when you notice that Bakugou is already staring at you, feeling yourself shrink in slightly. It’s an emotion that heightens further when he makes his way towards you, until he’s standing directly in front of you. 

Without a warning, he reaches his hand up towards you. “Get down from there,” he remarks, voice softer than before. “Standing on the chair could be dangerous.” 

You gaze at his outstretched hand, tentatively reaching over to grip it. His hand is softer than you expected, which is surprising considering that you imagined his quirk would have created calluses and burns along his fingers and palms. But it’s nothing like what you have imagined. 

Not that you’ve thought about Bakugou’s hands. Not a lot, that is. 

Carefully, Bakugou helps you back onto ground level. “You okay?” he asks. “I didn’t think you’d attract the energy of burning down your apartment. Did a cockroach come out again and distract you from your pizza?” 

Your insides feel hot at his remark. One look at his expression and it is almost like he’s trying to tease you. You would be more embarrassed had you not realized that he actually remembers his last encounter with you, which immediately brings you back to thoughts about the cockroach. 

“No!” you protest hotly. “My dumb roommate and I just don’t know how to use a toaster-oven.” You pause at that, deflating slightly at what you’ve just said. Curse your stupid mouth that doesn’t know how to shut up in the presence of someone who seems to command so much attention. “T-That actually makes me sound worse, doesn’t it?” 

At that, Bakugou’s lips twist up into the tiniest of smiles. “Cool. So you’re afraid of bugs and you’re also incompetent in the kitchen.” 

You twist your fingers around each other. “Kind of makes you regret coming all this way with all these different heroes, doesn’t it?” 

He still has that tiny smile on his face as he gazes at you. “Not really.” He looks away. “Actually, most of these heroes are under my agency, so I know for a fact that they have nowhere else to be. But it is stupid to be scared of shitty things like bugs, and even stupider to not know how to operate a oven—so I’d get to work on understanding that right away.” 

You snort. “Oh, and you’re supposed to be an expert in the kitchen?” 

Bakugou maintains his intense gaze on yours. “Is that a challenge?” 

You’re about to say something, but a clear of the throat near the entranceway startles you out of the bubble you and Bakugou have created. At first, you notice Karly with her bewildered and suspicious expression, before you notice Red Riot next to her. He actually looks vaguely guilty for interrupting your conversation, but he speaks up when you notice his presence. “We cleared out the oven. The smoke should be gone within the next couple of hours if you leave everything open.” 

You step away from Bakugou, managing a tiny nod. “Sure. Thank you for coming. You really saved our kitchen.” 

Red Riot flashes you a thumbs up. “That’s what we’re here for. Ready to get going, Dynamight?” 

“In a minute,” Bakugou returns, strangely enough having resumed his harsh tone with his teammate. It’s a tone that softens slightly when he turns to look back at you. “I better not get another phone call about a bug problem or a kitchen problem.”  

Your lips part in surprise. “That’s very specific.” 

He stares at you for a moment longer, before looking away. “Room for improvement, I suppose.” 

With that, he leaves with his team and his agency—leaving behind an apartment that is significantly more clear than it had been when they first arrived, but strangely leaving your head more cloudy than before. 

Karly seems to be more on top of your behavior than you are, because she practically barrels you down with wide-eyes and a question that you would never dare admit is on your mind as well: what the fuck was that? 

(3) 

Springtime in the city means longer days and shorter nights, nice breezes and comfortable sunlight, and spending every possible moment outside amongst other people or bustling cafes along the street or shopping districts just a few subway stops away. For you and Karly, springtime means attending university and extra curricular activities during the day, and going outside to explore neighboring cities during the afternoon. 

Having to spend time outside is more of a requirement than an optional choice after Karly volunteers the pair of you to watch the neighbor’s overactive puppy for a week—forcing you both out to the local park to play fetch or run around. 

Or, climb a tree in order to grab the tennis ball you accidentally threw too far and too high—which is what you’re doing right now. 

“Holy shit, this is higher than I thought!” you call out, once you pass what you believe to be the halfway mark of the tree trunk. The tennis ball looks so much further out of your reach than it did when you were on ground level, the realization starts to dawn upon you that perhaps this hadn’t been the best approach. 

“Alright, okay, you should get down from there!” Karly calls, having to cup both hands over her mouth to project her voice. “You’re not a professional tree climber, you dumb bitch!” 

You snap your head back towards the ground, but immediately regret it when you notice just how far away the ground is from your feet. A fall from this height would definitely cause some kind of injury. “Okay, okay, fine!” you shout back, having to raise your voice just to be heard since you cannot use your hands to help carry your voice. “I’m coming down… shit!” Your voice raises in a panic when your foot misses the branch you needed to start your climb. Your body slips slightly, and you have to wrap your arms around the tree trunk just to make sure you wouldn’t climb and fall. “Oh fuck!” 

“Are you okay?” Karly asks sharply. A quick glance over your shoulder shows that your roommate has already reattached the leash to the dog’s collar, and is currently staring up at you with eyes the size of saucers. “You look stuck. Hold on, let me call someone.” 

“A hero?” you ask, immediately feeling your heart drop at that idea. “Listen, Karly, that’s not necessary!” you protest loudly, looking down at your feet with the best of your ability in order to locate a branch you could step down on. Due to a fear of judgment, having a hero come down just to save you from a tree much like someone would with a cat or equally as mischievous and small creature would just be downright embarrassing. “I would literally rather slide down this trunk than have a hero come down to help me.” 

“Are you sure?” Karly returns, pocketing her phone and looking back up at you. “Because I just called Dynamight.” 

The mention of Bakugou’s hero name makes your heart drop in your chest, because of all the heroes that could be showing up it just had to be the one who has seen you through a surplus of different embarrassing situations. 

You make sure to bring awareness to your feelings with a shriek of your roommate’s name. “Karly! What made Dynamight decide to come over here? Why didn’t you call someone else?” 

Karly is quiet for a moment, before she responds to your accusations. “He gave me his hero card!” she returns, and you know that the smile in her voice is not just from your imagination. 

You’re appalled, not just over Bakugou’s actions but the fact that Karly did not tell you about this earlier. For a moment, you’re quiet as you mule over her words. Bakugou gave your roommate his hero card and not you? You scoff at the thought—not that that matters anyways. It’s not like you and Bakugou are friends, because you most definitely do not want to see him right now. Especially when you look like this: clinging to a tree for dear life because you tried to get a damn tennis ball. 

“Oh no!” you whine instead, tightening your grip on the trunk as your cheek presses against the hard bark. “Just because he gave you his hero card doesn’t mean you actually had to call him! Now he’s going to show up and see me like this and I’m never going to hear the end of this—!” 

“You know, now I’m starting to think that you like getting into trouble.” 

You sigh, pouting as you risk a quick glance over your shoulder to see (surprise surprise) Bakugou standing at the foot of the tree. His hands are on his hips, and he’s gazing up at you. He raises an eyebrow when your eyes meet. 

Hastily, you turn your neck back so you face the tree. “What are you doing here?” you ask. 

“A little birdie you live with told me that you were having some trouble. And so naturally, I’m here to get you out of your mess,” he returns, sounding so straightforward, adapting a tone that implies that of course he would be here. But you dismiss it with a shake of your head. 

“You didn’t have to come,” you reply. “I-I’m doing better!” Your words are further emphasized when you try to reach for a branch beneath you, and miss again.” 

Bakugou raises an eyebrow. “Sure you are.” There’s a pause, before he sighs. “Alright, c’mon, just admit that you need help. I can help make sure you don’t break every bone in your legs, which will save trouble for all of us.” 

You struggle for a few more seconds, trying to at least get your footing on a branch or a piece of bark to stabilize yourself. It does not work, leaving you to literally hang from the tree. You huff. “Fine, okay yes, I need help.” 

“That’s more like it.” You do your best to ignore the smile in Bakugou’s voice. You hear a few steps come closer to you. “What you need to do is really easy. Just let go.” 

You gap openly, looking over your shoulder again to look at Bakugou. You hope he can see how crazy you think he is for such an absurd request. “Are you kidding?” you snap. “Do you want me to break all the bones in my body?” 

“Yes, I do, even though I literally just advised against that a few seconds ago,” he says dryly. “But try to push your body away from the tree just to avoid any further scratching.” 

You squeeze your eyes tightly together for a moment. “Dynamight, it’s not that I don’t trust you but I just—!” 

“Then do it.” 

You open your eyes. “What?” 

Bakugou is quiet for a moment. “Trust me,” he utters. “Trust that I’ve saved people in much worse situations than this, and that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” 

His voice is strangely steady, very different from the tone he’s adapted when he’s making fun of you. It makes you feel protected over—like he knows which situations require a more comforting tone. 

So you readjust yourself, deciding to put your trust in Bakugou once more despite the more dangerous situation you were about to embark on. “Okay, okay, I’m going to let you. You got a good view of me?” 

“Yes,” he answers immediately. “I got you. Just let go.” 

You take another second, praying to something (anything) before you let go. You fall backwards, momentarily feeling the wind pass all around you, until you fall into a sturdy surface. One eye peeling open and you see Bakugou’s piercing red eyes and broad shoulders—you feel his arms curled around you. Something about feeling his body warmth matched with the fact he actually caught you fills you with a brief rush of butterflies in your heart. 

“Uh…” you stammer, not sure where to put your hands so you rest them on your stomach. “Thank you.” 

Bakugou looks back at you, gaze flickering across your face. “Your face,” he replies. 

You blink. “Sorry?” 

“You have scratches everywhere,” he explains, slowly kneeling to rest you on the grass. He turns to Karly, who has been watching the pair of you with wide eyes: half curious and half mischievous. “Can you grab the first aid kit next to you?” After the kit gets handed to him, Bakugou opens and starts fiddling with the various components within. He settles with taking out a q-tip, some medicine, and some band aids before he gets to work. “This might sting,” he whispers, getting all close to you and you can only hope that he can’t hear your heart racing. 

True to his word, the moment he applies some medicine along your cheek, a sharp pain radiates from the cut. You hiss, flinching, and Bakugou gently tightens his hold on your face. 

“Sorry,” he grumbles, brushing his thumb along your unscratched cheek and you feel like your soul has just departed from your body. He puts medicine all over your face, but only has to put band aids on certain scratches along your legs. 

As soon as he gets the last band aid on, he leans back.

“Anywhere else hurt?” he asks. 

You think about it for a second, before you shake your head. “Thanks for coming,” you mutter, finally stealing a long and hard glance at him. Unlike previous encounters with Dynamight, he’s wearing civilian clothes: a t-shirt and black jeans. The absence of the black mask allows you to see his bright red eyes in all its glory, making you realize that it is much more intimidating than before. “It’s embarrassing to know that you can add this moment to the list of horrible encounters we’ve had.” 

He shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood.” He starts to collect the first aid kit items, putting them back into its case. “And when your friend called, she sounded a little shaken up. What were you climbing the tree for anyways.” 

You sigh. “We’re dogsitting for our neighbor, and his tennis ball is in the tree.” 

Bakugou follows your pointing finger up into the leaves, before he laughs. “I see it. Wait right here.” He gets up, easily scaling the tree and locating the ball with almost an insulting amount of precision. He hopes down, rolling onto the floor, and handing the item back to you. 

“Show off,” you grumble under your breath. “I-I’m a little surprised that you came,” you say after a second. “We’re not around your agency, but Karly had mentioned you gave her your hero card?” 

“Oh, right.” He looks away, scratching the back of his neck. “You know, just in case.” 

“Were you heading into work then?” you guess. “This doesn’t look like your hero costume. Unless you got downgraded because you were helping unnecessary cases. Like myself.” 

He scoffs, huffing slightly as he continues to stare out at some far point behind you. “Ha ha, very funny.” 

“I mean, it’s not like I don’t appreciate the help—I really do,” you say, holding out a hand and trying to backpedal. How do you say that you think Bakugou is an enjoyable force without overstepping any civilian slash hero boundaries that he might want to keep intact? “It’s just…” 

“Just what?” 

“W-Well,” you stammer. “If I’m pulling you away from actual important cases, then I think you should focus on those.” 

Bakugou finally looks back at you. “Bold of you to assume that.” 

You blink. “Assume what?” 

He presses his lips together, like he’s trying to stop himself from saying something he might regret. “That this isn’t an important case.” 

“Are you trying to say that it is?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows together. “Because if killing cockroaches and clearing smoke from an apartment is the new age of heroes, then I think your whole job might be at stake…” 

“No,” he interrupts, gritting his teeth together. “It’s an important case because I like spending time with you.” 

Your eyes widen, heart pounding faster, because did this type of encounter just happen with normal people? Or were you living in a stimulation? “Huh?” 

He runs a hand through his hair. “Jesus, when I told my friends you were an idiot, I underestimated just how much of an idiot you are.” He lowers his hand. “I like spending time with you, because I like you. I think you’re fun and interesting, and thinking about you always makes me smile.” 

You take in a breath. “You like me,” you exhale. 

He nods. “Well, no shit. You think I’m out here in the park during my off-duty day just for the shit of it? You think I give your roommate my hero card, a card that has my personal phone number on it, because I like teasing you? Okay, yes, I do like teasing you. But I like teasing you because I like you.” 

Out of all the things that Bakugou just said to you, your mind only seems to hyperfocus on one thing. “You’re off-duty today?” 

He nods. 

“So, you just came down here because you wanted to see me?” 

He nods again, slower this time, more hesitant, and eyes never leaving yours as if he needs to constantly gauge your reaction. “Does that freak you out?” 

You gaze back at him, vaguely surprised at how nervous he looks over his question. “Well,” you start softly. “I freak out every time you show up at my apartment, or when I knew you were showing up here—but not because I hate you. Quite the opposite, actually.” 

Your words click in Bakugou’s mind, and he flashes you a rare smile. 

“Uh,” Karly interrupts from behind the pair of you—her eyes glowing with a hunger for information. But she does well in keeping herself composed. “Would you mind handing me the ball?” 

(4) 

It’s two o’clock in the morning when you click your pen and realize how late it is getting. With a sigh, you pull away from your notebooks and laptop for a moment to see the mess you’ve currently gotten yourself into. With university assignments piling up, it has dramatically increased your workload while simultaneously decreasing your motivation—and as a result, has left you feeling relatively dry and exhausted. 

Your gaze flickers between your current array of notes and the to-do list on your laptop, realizing that you still have a few major parts of an assignment that still need to be written out if you want to stay on top of the already tight schedule you’ve put together before submission. 

A few more minutes pass, before you resort yourself to a cup of coffee if only to keep you awake for another hour or so. So you straighten up, quietly padding down the quiet hallway connecting your line of bedrooms and bathrooms into the kitchen. You make sure Karly’s bedroom door is closed firmly before switching on the kitchen lights. You’re about to set up the mug and flavor of your coffee, before there is a knock at your door. 

You freeze, naturally frightened at the sound. Initially, your first thought is to not answer given the late time, the possibility of a villain, and just the general fact that you are not prepared for any type of coherent conversation with anyone. The second thought is a vague assumption that perhaps the knocker is a lost stranger, or even a drunk neighbor. The latter would not be so uncommon, and those types of visitors typically leave after a few minutes. You’re about to return back to your bedroom, steaming hot cup of coffee be damned, but the knocking continues. 

Perhaps you’ll need to verbally tell the drunk neighbor that they are at the wrong unit. 

So you head towards the door, but not before grabbing a knife from the rack. 

Once you reach your door, you lift up the paper covering the peep hole to get a look at the stranger. Immediately, you jerk away, heart race speeding up and leaving you much more awake than you had been a few seconds prior—because what the fuck was Bakugou Katsuki doing here so early in the morning?

Your relationship with Bakugou has generally plateaued ever since the events at the park. Not necessarily because anything occurred, but more of the opposite. Neither of you have had the time to reach out and have a conversation about what occurred then, so seeing him is a rather unexpected reminder. 

Or—your hand wavers over the knob. Perhaps this was a real villain attack? You aren’t very well versed in the quirks of villains, but could it be possible someone had a physical appearance manipulation quirk?

Your mind is running a mile a minute, until you force the thought to the backburner. Why would a villain be after you at a time like this? 

But still, you decide to be cautious. You keep the knife in your hand, and keep one of the stoppers attached to your door just in case. After all, regardless of if this is a real Bakugou Katsuki or not, something tells you that he is going to stay outside of your apartment until he gets your attention. 

You open the door, pulling it until the lock stops it from going any further. “Dynamight?” you ask cautiously. “Is that you?” 

Bakugou, who had been looking vaguely troubled through the peephole, morphs his expression into one of confusion. “Hah?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Who else would it be, dummy?” But his expression softens after a moment, seeming to realize the direction you’re taking. “It’s me, idiot. And I’m here off-duty—so you can call me Bakugo.” 

Having only imagined such an interaction with him, you warm slightly at the thought. But he looks surprisingly insistent, so you try for a smile. “Alright… Bakugou,” you say after a moment, waiting for him to change his mind. But he doesn’t, so you shut the door for a moment to remove the lock before reopening the door for him. “What are you doing here?” 

“Yeah, it’s just…” he gruffs out, scratching the back of his neck before he looks at you. He frowns at once, becoming distracted from his original thought. “Are you okay?” 

You’re momentarily taken aback by the question. Partly because it looked as if he wanted to ask a question of his own, but also because you did not think you looked as if you were not okay. So you decide to return his question with one of your own. “What do you mean?” 

“Nothing, it’s just.” He gestures to all of you. “You look like you’re using your head too much… or something silly like that.” He adds the last part haphazardly, as if afraid to overstep his boundaries. 

But you can’t help but laugh. “Well, you wouldn’t be wrong,” you admit softly, scratching the back of your neck. Your fingers need something to do, so you settle with combing your fingers through your hair. “I’m sort of in the middle of trying to finish up some work.” 

“Finish up work?” Bakugou echoes, raising an eyebrow. “But it’s so late.” 

You smile slightly, nodding in agreement to his observation. “These deadlines don’t change for anyone.” 

Bakugou huffs in return. “That’s rough. Is that why you’re out here? Just trying to stay awake?” 

You nod, trying to hide a yawn by cupping your mouth with your hand—although you’re not sure how effective your method had been. “I was just about to make myself another cup of coffee.” 

“Another?” he returns, looking vaguely pained at how much you’re overworking yourself for a deadline. 

“Yeah,” you manage, trying to sound upbeat. But truthfully you are exhausted. Your eyes feel like weights and your body almost feels like it is detached from the rest of your body. “It’s no biggie though. Just a few more days of this before all my assignments and research projects will be submitted!” You eye Bakugou’s troubled expression, and a part of you suddenly feels guilty for dumping this information onto him. “I-I mean,” you stammer. “You know what that’s like right? Having so many deadlines you aren’t sure if you can escape from it…” 

He looks at you. “Oh yeah, definitely,” he says after a moment. He pauses, staring at you long enough to make you avert your gaze. As soon as you look away, he grabs your wrist. “I think I can help with that.” 

Your eyes immediately zero in on his hands around your arm. For such strong words, his voice is surprisingly soft and comforting. Like he knows exactly what is going on in your bustling mind. “W-What?” 

He takes a brave step closer. “If you want, I can show you what I do when I need a second to get away from my deadlines. No pressure though.” 

You look over at him, trying for a laugh. But it sounds more like a laugh of disbelief. “A-Are you sure? It seemed like you were coming over here for a different reason.” 

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.” 

You do worry about it. But you don’t say anything to Bakugou. Rather, you allow yourself to stare at him for a few more seconds, wondering if it’s worth mentioning how just his presence is enough of an escape, but you decide that there will be a different time to say something. A better time. 

So you nod, heart beating a little faster when he flashes you one of those rare soft smiles, before the look goes away as quickly as it had appeared. Without another word, you grab your keys and let him lead you out of your apartment. 

(5) 

Ever since you started working in the city, you’ve always had a sinking feeling in your stomach that something like this would happen eventually. At this point, it is just a natural byproduct of living in a society overrun by super powered individuals. In most of your experience, your encounters with aforementioned super-powered individuals have been positive (some more than others), but you’ve yet to ever experience those villain attacks that Bakugou always looked so nervous about. 

But it seems like today is the day you come to understand why—when a villain attacks the subway line and cart you’re taking to work. 

It occurs quickly: one second, you’re standing near the door with your fingers curled into the bar over your head, eyes glued to your phone and feet drumming nervously on the floor underneath. Then, the next second, a bomb sets off in the front cart, creating a hole in the metal and shaking the entire line of carts that fall after it. 

The movement shakes you and everyone, throwing you against the door behind you as the screams echo in your ear. The suddenness of the events surprises you and fills your mind with fear and adrenaline—because you really did not expect a villain attack on a typical Thursday morning. Especially in an underground subway of all places. 

The force of the explosion drives the subway off the track at full speed, rocking the carts with such force that you fall onto the ground. The cries of those around you increase in volume as the metro crashes into the wall, before the brick and cement come crashing down around. 

A few seconds later, and the lights inside the subways flicker off, engulfing everyone in the darkness of the underground. The screams and worried shrieks heighten in volume as your own heart beat increases and a sickness settles in your stomach. Nevermind the fact that this tunnel extends for miles underground, and the integrity of the tunnel is starting to become compromised due to the attack—so much so that even stepping outside of the subway could be risky. 

Then, an array of lantern lights blast on, bathing the entire underground in a hollow yellow color. You barely are able to get ahold of your new surroundings before the group of villains speaking outside of the subway cart, likely to a video camera. You can only assume that the camera feed is being broadcasted to the city—along with the heroes that protect it. The villains seem semi-experienced, claiming that they’ve captured a group of hostages and cut off the main subway line into the city, and it will stay this way until their demands are met. 

First impression aside, it’s not the most terrifying set up. You’ve seen clips of attacks that feature villains that will attack civilians right out of the gate. At least here, from your position on the floor of this subway cart, catching glances of the pacing villains right through the windows, you are safe. 

In your backpack, your phone vibrates and you jump to answer it. Surprisingly, you have a signal—but your bar is low. The contact information displays the one person you most definitely want to talk to right now. 

You answer it, pressing the device against your ear as you continue to watch the villains. 

You don’t need to get a word in, because he speaks first. “Please tell me you’re not on that subway.” On the other side of the line, Bakugou’s voice is low with thinly veiled confusion and anger. 

You try for a smile, but your heart is pounding. “I’d be lying then,” you whisper back. 

Bakugou curses on the other side of the line. “Fuck—okay. Are you okay at least?” 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, continuing to watch the villains pace. They’ve just made another announcement—if their demands are not met, they are going to start picking on the civilians taken hostage. “Katsuki,” you manage, ignoring the fact that you’re using his first name when the pair of you have never discussed doing that in the first place. “I’m a little scared.” 

He exhales. “Stay on the line,” he orders. “Breath for me, whisper to me—just don’t hang up, so I can hear your voice.” He pauses, likely listening to something going on around him. “A bunch of pro heroes have gathered and we’re heading out towards the subway tunnel. It’s going to be okay.” 

“How can you be so sure?” you challenge softly. 

Bakugou barely even thinks about his answer. “It needs to be,” he replies. “I need to take you out on a date, like how I wanted to that first night I showed up at your apartment.” He pauses. “Do you remember that night?” 

“You mean the night you showed up at two in the morning?” you ask, unable to help but smile to yourself at the memory. He had taken you to a local convenience store, determined to distract you from the load of assignments you had been drowning in. “Is that why you came by? To ask me out?” 

“Of course,” he replies, suddenly sounding like he’s moving quickly through the city. “I told you I liked you that afternoon, didn’t I?”  

You huff softly, watching the villains discuss something amongst each other. “I would have thought hanging out with me when my sanity was hanging by a thread would have scared you off.” 

He laughs roughly. “I’ve heard you lose your shit at a bug, and I’ve witnessed you almost burning your apartment over some pizza. If I was going to be scared off, it would have happened a long time ago.” 

You press your lips together, making sure not to laugh too loud for fear of the villain overhearing you. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

It’s quiet on the other side of the line for a brief moment, where it feels like Bakugou has stopped moving. “You still okay?” he asks. 

You nod, speaking when you remember he cannot see you. “Yes.” 

“Not near the villains?” 

You glance outside of the cracked window of the subway. “Not yet. But they’re talking.” 

He reassures you immediately. “Good.” 

Suddenly, a rumble echoes through the subway tunnel, far enough away where the explosion won’t bury any of you underneath the brick, but still loud enough to be heard by yourself and the villains. 

Everything happens in a blur—one moment, the villains are walking towards the source of the noise, and the next, they’re being knocked down by a hero of green. Movement happens all around you, in the heroes that quickly apprehend the villains, and the heroes that navigate swiftly through the broken down subway to ensure the safety of those trapped in it. 

You’re about to sit up, gauge your personal qualms with any potential injuries or anything else out of place, before a figure kneels in front of you. You briefly catch a glimpse of the green, orange, and black of the costume, before a set of hands cup your cheek. Your gaze then rests on a set of familiar red eyes, imploring your own with a heightened amount of worry swimming behind it. 

Once you realize who is in front of you, you scramble about immediately. “Katsuki!” you exclaim, gripping his arms with your hand. “You came so quickly!” 

He scoffs, and everything about him feels so real and stable that you cannot help but let out a sigh of relief as you hug him before your mind can decide otherwise. 

If you’ve overstepped boundaries with Bakugou, he does not let you know. Instead, he pulls you in tighter, resting his chin on your shoulder. “‘Course I did,” he mumbles. “I have a date, after all.” 

Bakugou takes you out on a date a week after the subway incident, insisting that you recover from injuries—despite the fact that you didn’t have many injuries to begin with, perhaps just a sore back from when you were thrown against the door during the explosion. Still, he insists, and texts you everyday just to stay on top of your condition. 

He shows up at your apartment on a Friday night, jeans and a t-shirt and looking cute enough to make your heart race. Considering that Bakugou needed you in tip-top condition in order to go on this date with you, you honestly have no idea what to expect. 

It’s a curiosity you express to him as you let him into your apartment, saying that you need to grab your jacket before heading out. He follows you inside, doing a relatively good job at keeping his cool when asked what his plans were for the evening. The straightness of his expression makes you think that he’s going to surprise you with some extreme adventure that was going to send you on a frightening tirad—just to fuck with you. 

But, even more surprisingly, he takes you to a carnival a few cities down. It’s a place less flashy than the Tokyo city lights, making Bakugou less of a celebrity target as the pair of you make the rounds through the various food venders and “shitty booth games”, as Bakugou calls it. But he still makes it his mission to win you a frog pillow. 

The night is pleasant—not that you had any doubts of it being anything but. You and Bakugou get along well, and he’s much more soft-spoken than you would have given him credit for. After all, the first initial encounters with him always resulted in a whole lot of disciplining and shit-talking. 

It’s a sentiment you reflect to him as the pair of you are in line for the ferris wheel, and it’s a comment that makes him snort. “What do you mean?” he asks. “I’m so fucking pleasant all the fucking time!” 

You laugh, obviously noticing the nervous side-eyes that the couple in front of you is giving Bakugou. “So all those comments about me being a terrible chef and how I need to grow a spine are all you being pleasant?” 

He looks at you this time, reflecting a look that reads a degree higher than being pleasant. “Sweetheart,” he says, voice lower. “You’ll know when I’m trying not to be pleasant.�� 

Despite the threatening words, it certainly doesn’t feel threatening. Not in the way one might expect. Rather, it’s a statement that travels right into your body: through your heart and into your stomach. 

Before you can reply (because really, what can you say to that), it’s your turn to board the cart. 

The rest of the night goes pleasantly well, all culminating in the last stretch between the elevator and your apartment unit. Once you reach the door, you turn to face Bakugou, where he has both of his hands in his pockets and he’s staring at you with an odd softness. “I had a good time,” you say with a smile. 

He smiles back. “Can I trust that you won’t get into any more trouble before I can take you out again?” 

You pout. “It’s not like I’m looking for trouble!” 

He hums, stepping closer to you. “That’s a shame. It almost makes me worry about you all the time.” 

You level your gaze with his. “What do I have to do to get you to stop worrying all the time?” 

“Not sure,” he explains, taking his hands out of his pockets and reaching over to hold your hands with his own. “But it makes me not want to leave you—and the feeling scares me a little.” 

You tighten your hold on his hands. “We can start somewhere with that. Want to come inside?” With a nod, you guide him inside, not ignoring how he’s still trying to hold at least one of your hands. You turn to face him once you’re both standing inside. 

Without a warning, Bakugou leans forward and pecks you on the lips. 

You pull back in shock at his sudden action. “What was that for?” 

“Sorry.” He turns red for a moment. “Standing here just makes me remember that I wanted to kiss you last time I was here.” 

You watch his embarrassment, feeling oddly endeared by the behavior, before you do something you’ve also wanted to do the last time Bakugou was here. You kiss him back. 

He takes that as a sign that you’re okay with kissing him, because he rests a hand on your waist. His hold is form to keep you in place as he presses deeper, thoroughly exploring your mouth with his tongue and eliciting butterflies in your stomach. 

He pulls away for a moment to nipple at your ear. “Is your roommate home?” he asks hotly. 

You exhale heavily. “Karly?” you whisper. “You know, you should really know her name after you gave her your hero card instead of me.” 

You jump, whimpering slightly when he bites too hard. “Aw, sorry sweetheart,” he coos, his previous embarrassment fading away when he realizes that he hasn’t read too far between the lines in regard to you. “Let me make that up to you then.” 

After a confirmation that Karly is not home, he kisses you again, walking through your apartment like he knows the place. Considering the fact he’s been here more times than you care to admit, you allow him to walk you backwards until you reach the living room and both of you fall atop the couch cushions. Following a brief attempt at readjustments, he dusts kisses past your lips, down your jawline, tugging down the strap of your tank top and bra to kiss at your breast, tug at your nipple with his teeth. Your body flinches, hips canting up because was this really happening? Was Bakugou Katsuki really in your apartment and kissing you the way you’ve dreamt of being kissed by him for weeks? 

He continues down your body until he reaches the hem of your skirt at your thighs, lifting your legs up to tug your underwear off your legs and onto the floor next to you. You, haphazard pushed clothing, are unable to rummage through the fog building up in your brain quick enough before Bakugou is tugging your folds apart with his thumbs in order to lick. You gasp, one hand gripping into the cushions and the other holding onto his hair. “Katsuki,” you whine, because it all feels so hot and so good.

He hums, and the vibration echoes through you, making you curse as you arch your back. “Just trying to get you wet, sweetheart.” 

It works, because it only takes a few more seconds of his ministration before he’s pushing himself back up to be eye level with you. His lips are glistening with you, and the sight makes your body warm. “Is this okay?” he whispers, lowering himself down to press his forehead against yours. 

You nod, already moving to try and fiddle with his pants. “More than okay.” 

Bakugou barely gets his pants off before he’s lining him up and sliding into you. He keeps going until he reaches the hilt, and you swear that you’ve transcended into another dimension. Your mind is trying to swim through the current that Bakugou has created for you. 

When you give him the okay to move, he starts rocking into you, trying to help you get used to the sensation of him. 

You whimper with every movement he makes against you, both arms and face pressed into his neck. “K-Keep going!” you squeal, hooking your legs together at the small of his back to edge him along. “Mm, hnng, fuck, m’—FUCK!” A gasp sounds from the back of your throat as Bakugou sneaks a hand between your bodies to press circles into your clit. 

“You’re so good, sweetheart,” he pants into your ear, his own mind spinning at the way you tighten around him to signal your release. 

Your orgasm feels like fireworks in your brain, like white hot pleasure snaking through your own body as you slump against the couch. Bakugou follows soon after, burying his face into your neck. 

For a moment, you feel at peace knowing that he is here with you—but it’s a feeling that quickly fades when you hear the doorknob of your apartment unit start to turn. Both you and Bakugou shift in your positions, staring at each other with wide eyes. 

“You said Karly wasn’t coming back until late!” he hisses. 

“I didn’t say shit! You just dumped me on the couch!” you retort, about to make a move that’ll remove you from Bakugou’s arms (and his dick), but he holds you in place with his hands on your waist.

“Don’t,” he says frantically, keeping you attached to his dick. “You’ll make a mess over this couch.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “You say that as if there already isn’t a mess.” 

“We don’t have time for this,” he hisses, moving his hands to grip underneath your thighs, lifting you up and bolting down the hallway towards your room. 

“Wait!” you exclaim, realizing that his pants and your underwear are still near the couch. “We still have stuff back there! That’s evidence!” 

“There’s no time!” he says back, managing to make it to your room and shutting the door just as the front door to the apartment opens. Bakugou is still standing, you on his dick, as you both wait with baited breath to hear what will happen next. 

There’s a moment of quiet, before Karly’s voice comes booming from the living room. “Did you guys seriously decide to fuck on the couch?”

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #mha writing #bnha writing #mha smut #bnha smut #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki fluff #bakugou katsuki smut #traci writes for mha

[cupofmiko]

HAZY MINDS — todoroki shouto x f!reader

as your pro hero boyfriend, shouto is just trying to get you home. too bad you're too drunk to recognize him, and instead think that he's just a shouto-lookalike, wannabe-hero trying to take advantage of you.

genre: established relationship au, pro hero!shouto | fluff 

warnings: aged up characters, alcohol consumption, small mention of vomiting, but shouto is in love!!!! Ft. first i love yous!!! 

word count: 3.2k 

a/n: I feel like this is such a cliche trope... but i had an idea and wanted to write this :-) inspired by the prompt “I drunkenly tried to fight you and knocked myself out but you were kind enough to take care of me until i woke up” 

When your friends call to tell Todoroki that you wouldn’t even be able to make it out of the club, he admits that he severely underestimates your condition. Granted, he isn’t super familiar with the effects of alcohol due to his busy schedule, but he likes to think that he has an idea of it from his friends. But he should have known better. Unlike his aforementioned pro-hero friends, his university student of a girlfriend has nothing else to fear but your own internal stress. 

That explains your condition when he walks into the building, the bustling music and darkened environment making it difficult to navigate. But he eventually finds you in the back corner of the booth you and your friends have occupied for a majority of the night. 

You’re leaning back in your seat, and you seem to have fallen asleep. Normally, the sight would draw out the coos and the quickening of his heart. But at this moment, he’s much more preoccupied with making sure that you’re okay. 

“Baby?” he calls, crawling over the cushions as your friends move to allow him space to reach you. According to them, your deadweight is too much for them to handle and your alcohol-infused mind makes it difficult to communicate with you. You’re stubborn, they claim. He doesn’t know what they mean by that, but that doesn’t stop him from reaching over to gently grip onto your arm. “Baby, c’mon, let’s get you home.” 

You blink, sleepily opening your eyes. Your gaze is glassy, so it’s hard to tell if you even recognize Todoroki in front of you, but judging from the way you try to shrug him off, he’s going to have to assume that you don’t. “Who are you?” you whine. “Don’t touch me.” 

Todoroki recoils slightly, blinking at you. He says your name. “It’s me, it’s Shouto?” He says his name almost like a question, because he’s a little confused. The club may be dark, but you should be able to tell that it is him relatively quickly. It’s not like his physical features leave much room for questioning. 

At the mention of his name, you open your eyes again. But you give up trying to swim past the fog that clouds up your mind. “Liar,” you say, a pout across your lips. “Shouto is on patrol right now, there’s no way he’s here.” 

“Actually yes, there is a way,” Todoroki returns, smile across his lips. “Maybe he finished up his patrol because his girlfriend spent an entire evening at the club?”

You whine, shaking your head. But you don’t say anything to that question. 

He sighs, looking back at your friends. They all smile apologetically, because they really weren’t exaggerating your stubborn nature. They appear to be just as out of ideas as Todoroki is. 

So he turns back to you. He huffs. “Alright, that’s enough for today.” He grabs your wrists, practically dragging you across the cushions of the booth, until you’re on the edge of the seat. 

He’s about to pull you up into a standing position, fully confident that you’ve dispelled yourself of the energy to be difficult. But it seems like you’re very set on proving him wrong. 

“Woah, WOAH, hey, excuse me sir!” you exclaim loudly, trying to shake your wrists out of his grasp. Your movements are weak, but Todoroki humors you by letting go anyways. “I don’t know wh’you think you are, but my boyfriend is the number two hero in the country—and he’ll kick your ass if he saw what you were trying to do!” 

“He’s the boyfriend,” your friend explains to one of the employees, who immediately relaxes and nods in sympathy. 

Todoroki sighs. “Baby, c’mon, you’re drunk and it’s late. Do you want to keep causing a scene?” 

You sway. “M’not causing a scene!” you protest, stretching your arm out towards him. Your depth perception is way off, and you almost run your hand right over Todoroki’s face, but he steps back and grabs your wrist. You falter slightly, and fall right onto his chest. You pout and look over at him. “Sir, don’t touch me!” 

He smirks. “You fell on me.” 

From your position on his chest, you narrow your eyes the more you look at Todoroki. “Hey… you look like Shouto…” 

He almost thinks that you’re finally going to put the puzzles together, until you reach over and try to push his face away from yours.

“My head hurts! Stop trying to look like my boyfriend!” you whine. 

At your rough-handling, your friends try to step in, but Todoroki brushes them off. “It’s fine,” he manages, but it’s a little hard to provide words of comfort when you’re trying to detach his head from his neck. “Alright, baby, it’s time to go.” Suddenly, Todoroki kneels down, forces you to lie horizontally across his shoulders, before he’s standing up and moving a beeline for the exit. All while your friends trail behind, waving off concerns to counter your shouts. 

Todoroki only puts you down once your group has exited the club, where you are returned back to your feet. His car is on hold just a few feet away, but before he can think to move you there, you’re squaring up against him. “SIR!” you slur loudly, pointing right at him. “Listen, Idontknow what kind of quirk you have that makes you look like my boyfriend but I’ve tired of you!” 

I’ve tired of you? 

You’re not done yet. You sway just a little more, actually stumbling over your feet. Your voice is also growing softer. “Imma going to kick your ass before my boyfriend can get to you!” 

He says your name weakly, trying to reach over to you, because you’re so fucking drunk and he hates how endeared he is to you. He isn’t even annoyed that you’re being difficult and so clearly trying to pick a fight with him on a Saturday night outside of this noisy club. 

You rock back and forth a few times, a look on your face that Todoroki doesn’t recognize right away. At least, until you start dry heaving. You cover your mouth, making that god-awful sound, and Todoroki rushes you to a trash can. In the dark, he can hear your body dispose of many hours worth of alcohol and side snacks, and it definitely is reminiscent of his own body’s response to difficult training hours and illnesses—but he doesn’t let that distract him from you. He curls his fingers into your hair, creating a makeshift bun at the nape of your neck. 

He stays rooted next to you until you’re trying to lift yourself out of the trash bin. Compared to a few seconds ago, you don’t look feisty or troubled—you look exhausted, sick, and seconds from knocking out. The hot feel of your skin further drives this point. 

Sighing, Todoroki rests his right hand on your cheek, applying a chilling touch to your skin. “Baby, you’re sick. Let me take you home.” 

You whine, trying to shrug off his touch. Your fingers are, however, gripping his shirt like it’s your last life line. The sight makes him smile slightly, because it seems like no matter what your mouth is saying, your body seems to recognize his presence. “M’not your baby,” you mutter, eyes still closed. “M’Shouto’s baby.” 

He sighs, closing his own eyes for a second to compose himself because there was absolutely no way you were real and there was absolutely no way you were dating him. He was so fucking whipped. 

He opens his eyes again. “Okay then.” He utters your name instead, which seems to do the trick. “How about I drive you to Shouto’s house?” 

Your eyes are still closed, focused on nudging your cheek deeper in Todoroki’s right hand. It feels like you’re pouring butterflies into his stomach. Finally, you nod. 

The growing exhaustion you feel makes you less of a fighter as Todoroki guides you into his car before sliding into the driver’s seat himself. As soon as he shuts the driver’s door, you inch towards him, blindly reaching a hand out until he laces your fingers together. 

You whine again, muttering something about your phone as you silently fish around for it. “M’gonna call my boyfriend, sir,” you whisper. “So no funny business!” 

He doesn’t say anything about how you’re the one nudging his cold hand against your warm cheeks. He just lets you use your other hand to find his contact number and press your phone against your ear. 

You don’t even notice the way his phone rings through the bluetooth system in his car, or how he answers the phone and replies. “Hello, baby?” 

You can’t seem to register the fact that he’s right next to you, saying the words in real time and not through a connection on the phone. You must be more drunk than he could have anticipated. But you don’t even connect the dots. A hazy smile appears across your face. “Baby, hi,” you reply back, that fluttering voice that makes his heart quicken. 

“What’s up?” Todoroki asks. He does feel extremely silly over the fact that this conversation feels like it could be held face-to-face, rather than through this bluetooth-to-phone method. But, again, you’re too out of it to notice. 

You whine. “I’m with this stranger right now who looks and sounds just like you—but I’mma watching him super carefully! I won’t let him do anything! He’s taking me to your house right now!” 

He’s trying not to laugh so hard. “Sure thing, baby. I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

“Okay…” you hang up, and resume your position of leaning back against the passenger seat. 

The car trip to his apartment is silent, until he’s pulling into his parking structure and walking around to help you out of the seat. Your movements are far more sluggish that you have to lean on him. 

“B’but no funny business sir,” you crow softly, even though you’re all over him. 

Todoroki manages your deadweight easily. “Sure, baby.” 

You whine in protest to that. “No baby…” you mutter. 

“So,” Todoroki starts up after a moment, taking you into the elevator that’ll ride up to his apartment floor. “How long have you been with this Shouto guy?” 

You slowly take in a breath. “Maybe half a year,” you reply softly. “He’s so nice… and patient… and pretty… ya’know, mister, you smell just like him…” 

He exhales in laughter. “Is that so?” 

“Ye’um!” you reply, staggering out of the elevator. “Listen…” you start up, pressing one of your fingers right into his chest. “He’s been my boyfriend for six months—don’t tell him about this. I’m embarrassed to see him like this.” 

He looks over at you. “Why?” 

You shake your head. “Always wanna be pretty for him… he deserves that… because I love him… a lot…” 

That gets Todoroki to freeze up, his eyes widening as he stares at you over trying to get into his apartment. Just as you’ve said, the pair of you have only dated for six months. You have yet to say those three simple words to each other—at least, until now. 

And the way you say it so easily, so simply, like you’re just talking about the colors in a painting or complimenting a sunset. 

He doesn’t have time to linger on it, however, because you stagger over your feet again and he is reminded of his current objective to get you to safety. He moves quickly, opening the door to his apartment and helping you inside. 

He ignores your mumbling as he carefully navigates you through the space of his living room, until you finally land upon his couch. Literally too, because you basically throw yourself atop the cushion and plant half your body over his arm rest. 

Todoroki sighs. “Don’t rest like that. You’ll make yourself sick again.” 

You shake your head, a movement that is difficult to see but he can tell based on the pattern of your whining. “Nooooo…” you trail off. “Shouto isn’t here yet.” 

He doesn’t even have the heart to tell you that there was no way the pair of you could have made it this far if he wasn’t actually Shouto. But Todoroki has settled himself to just playing along until you could sober up. 

“C’mon, just rest on me until he gets here then,” Todoroki says, leaning across the space of the couch to grab your waist, practically dragging you towards him until your head is resting on his lap. “Isn’t this more comfortable?” 

You hum, a noise torn between disagreement but conformity, as you snuggle deeper into his lap. Despite your whines of protest, you fall asleep as soon as you find a comfortable position on him. You don’t snore in your sleep (personal experience), but your breathing deepens out and he can hear the exhales that slip through your nose. 

As soon as he registers that you’ve fallen asleep, Todoroki sags. He exhales in a long sigh, leaning back against his couch and dropping his head back as far as the cushions will allow him. Even though the time it took to get you out of the bar and into his apartment had been shorter than expected, it had definitely taken a lot out of him. 

And still, throughout that entire journey of having to balance taking care of you while also trying to deal with the fact that you thought you were dealing with some Todoroki-imposter—never once did he face any exasperation or irritation towards you. 

In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever been more endeared to you than in this moment. This moment: seeing you curled up into him despite several claims that he wasn’t actually your boyfriend, calling yourself his baby, your whines likely to make him smile for days to come. 

It makes him want to take care of you forever. It makes him feel the words you spoke of earlier, makes it resonate through his whole body. It’s not fireworks or explosions, but the tiny fluttering of a butterfly’s wing in his heart, the warmth of the sun filling his body. 

Your head is pounding when you wake up the next morning, and you feel as if you’ve gotten hit by a bus. What exactly had your friends gotten you into last night? 

Groaning, you sit up and focus on getting past the sensation of blood rushing from your head. It takes a second, but you’re able to analyze your surroundings afterwards. You’re in a familiar bedroom, a place you can recognize immediately despite the blackout curtains covering the floor-to-ceiling window that serve as one of Todoroki’s walls. 

Slowly, you inch your way off of his bed and onto the hardwood floor, where your feet brush against the some sturdy house slippers. You slip into those, and make your way out of the bedroom, opening up into a hallway that does have some sunlight pouring in through the tiny windows atop. With the aid of light, you look down and notice that you’re wearing one of his old t-shirts—that explains your new level of comfort, especially since you’re sure you went to the club in a dress. 

Come to think of it, how exactly did you end up at Todoroki’s apartment? You were sure that he couldn’t go with it due to his patrol obligations. Perhaps your dream last night had something to do with it?

You rub at your eyes, trying to mull over what your subconscious had been feeding to you as you inch your way down the hallway. Actually, there’s no way your dream could have been the reality. After all, if your dream had been real… 

You walk into the kitchen, finding Todoroki at the stove and currently struggling with a pair of chopsticks. There’s a sizzling noise on the pot—was he cooking something? 

“You’re awake.” He’s looking at you. 

One look at Todoroki’s eyes, and it hits you like ice cold water. Oh no. 

“Oh no,” you say. “Please tell me that a friend dropped me off or something.” 

Todoroki turns off the stove, moves the soup that was in the pot into a bowl, before he’s rounding the corner of his kitchen counter to reach you. “I could say that,” he muses, the amusement fully dancing in the twinkle of his orbs. “But that’d be lying to you.” 

You whine at that, burying your face into your hands. You couldn’t believe this—you had made such a fool of yourself last night, if everything in your dream is real. “So it was all true?” you ask. “Me not recognizing you, me trying to pick a fight with you and throwing up instead?” You make a noise that is torn between a squeal and a groan. 

Todoroki does laugh at that, a light exhale of air as he places the bowl of soup on the table and makes his way over to you. “You also called me in my own car to tell me that you were with a stranger, and that you would make sure this stranger didn’t try anything.” 

You gap, pulling your face away from your arms to look up at him. “Shouto!” you squeal, thinking you might actually cry this time. The tears in your eyes come without warning. “Oh no!” He must hate you now or something, because how could he not? You must have made your night so difficult for him. 

“Hey,” Todoroki interjects gently, cupping your hands and forcing you to look up at him. A slight panic hides in his eyes. “Why are you crying? Are you feeling okay?” 

You meet his gaze, even though his face is a little foggy from your tears. “I’m just so embarrassed, and you probably weren’t ready to deal with that…” 

He says your name softly, pulling you out of your spiraling. Todoroki’s gaze remains locked on yours, where he tightens his grip around your face just slightly. “I was never ‘dealing with you’ that night. I did it because you’re my girlfriend.” He hesitates, but seems to steel himself right away. “And I love you too. So I wanted to do it.” 

I love you too?

Your words from last night echo in your mind: “Always wanna be pretty for him… he deserves that… because I love him… a lot…” 

The tips of your ears turn hot, but Todoroki laughs softly as he brings you into his arms. “You’re embarrassed.” 

“It’s just…” you whisper, fingers curling into his shirt. “We’ve only been dating for a few months. I didn’t know we were there yet.” 

He’s quiet in return, before tightening his hold on you. “I guess you make me feel like I could be ready for anything.” 

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x you #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki imagine #todoroki fluff #todoroki shouto fluff #todoroki shoto fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff #traci writes for mha

[cupofmiko]

ENCHANTED — todoroki shouto x f!reader

shouto todoroki becomes a pro hero believing that there is no other greater accomplishment in life, until he meets an elementary school teacher who makes him think otherwise.

genre: strangers to lovers au, pro hero!shouto, teacher!yn | fluff 

warnings: aged up characters, a side midoriya/uraraka relationship, slow burn, all slice of life cutesy shit 

word count: 8.8k 

a/n: this fic marks my request to join the anime writing community, because i’m trash </3 

People like Shouto Todoroki are bred for fame, glory, and status. After all, it is all he has ever known. It is the blood, sweat, and tears of his being, the only goal he’s ever had, the dream he’s been trained to say since he was a child. It’s hard to fantasize beyond expectation. So he has spent his entire life working towards those goals, merely filling out a mold that has been cut out for him. Sure, his exposure to certain influences has allowed for certain adjustments and trims here and there, but Shouto has always been a hero first and an individual second. 

It has always been like that. 

He’s assuming this is why he gets the call from Midoriya on this Tuesday morning, his phone vibrating off the nightstand as it awakens Shouto from his sleep without any hassle. The boy can even wake up from pin drops, that’s how good his hearing is (due to several near-death experiences and frantic phone calls during his work studies that have permanently trained him but still). He sits up in bed, hair falling over his face, as he briefly contemplates his surroundings, deems it familiar and real, before reaching for his phone. “Hello?” 

“Oh, Todoroki!” Midoriya calls from the other side of the line, sounding guilty but also relieved. “I haven’t woken you up, have I?” 

“Not at all,” Shouto brushes off, running a hand through his hair. “I was just getting up. Is everything alright?” 

“Well,” Midoriya starts, the hesitation back in full force. “I was just wondering…” 

In the background of Midoriya’s call, there is a flutter of movements as the phone is ripped out of his hands. “Hello Shouto!” It’s Uraraka now, her bright and cheery voice further pulling Shouto out his morning trance. “We’re really sorry to bother you about this so last minute, but we just found out that our reservation was confirmed for the All Might exhibition in downtown Tokyo! Since your agency is nearby and your patrol border lines up closely with Izuku’s, I was hoping that perhaps you wouldn’t mind expanding your patrol to cover his area?” After a second of silence, Uraraka continues. “A-And it doesn’t even need to be you patrolling! Feel free to ask your sidekicks! Or even the one that will be working at Izuku’s agency tomorrow will be around to assist you! You’ll be compensated, of course…” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Shouto interrupts calmly. “I’ll add Midoriya’s perimeter to my own.” He pauses. “Enjoy the exhibition—I hear the tickets were difficult to get.” 

“Oh my gosh, it was basically impossible to get a hold of them!” she whines. “We were pretty sure that we didn’t even get the tickets. I’m pretty sure the website had been overwhelmed for a while trying to sort everything out, which explains why we just got the confirmation. But fate works in mysterious ways, I suppose. Anyways, let me put Izuku back on. Thank you again, Shouto.” 

“Of course,” Shouto returns, patiently waiting for the phone to be returned to Midoriya. 

Midoriya still sounds vaguely remorseful when his voice sounds back on the line. “Thanks a lot, Todoroki. This means a lot to me. I owe you one.” 

Although he doesn’t vocalize it, Shouto allows the corner of his lips to quirk up. “No problem.” It’s not like he had any other plans anyways. It’s not like the extra hours it would take to cover Midoriya’s patrol was going to hinder him from his own personal life. The latter, after all, was a bit lackluster compared to his friends, meaning that there was no reason to reject Midoriya’s request. 

Fame, glory, and status. That’s all Shouto has ever known anyways. 

So he gets out of bed, brushing his teeth and preparing for another day at his office, another day patrolling the city. The same in, same out—all under the glorious lifestyle of the current number two hero. It shows too, in the eyes that follow him as soon as he steps out of his apartment, the calls of his name that earn a wave and a small smile in return, people who approach him for pictures or autographs. To be so young and to have garnered a title so high, this is what he’s always wanted, right? 

This is everything his father has trained him for, everything that he has put his life on the line for—all the late nights, all the school work, all the quirk training, his hero examinations, and his livelihood. The fact that Midoriya and Uraraka turned to him to handle additional work because they knew he’d have nothing else going on shouldn’t bother him, because it’s the truth. His eyes are only able to hold the same three traits he has been raised under: fame, glory, status. 

Shouto enters his agency to the same secretary, who gives him the usual list of messages nicely written out on various post-it notes. He takes to his office, returning the various calls and answering emails in his usual morning routine. He looks over previous case files, filing reports on closed cases. He looks into new reports, seeing if anything will need a follow-up investigation today. When he deems the cases solved, non-harmful, and non-urgent, he exits his office for his daily patrols. The morning is dedicated to his specific patrol area, walking around the city and making sure to take his time. Like with most heavily populated cities, it indicates lots of people and increased chances for messes to unfold. 

Surprisingly, today is an easy day. Aside from the occasional minor thievery, every incident is quickly solved with the tilt of Shouto’s feet or the angle of his left hand. After all, in an area overlooked by the number two hero, it definitely decreases people’s hope of being able to successfully carry out any sort of crime. 

The mid-afternoon peak gives Shouto an indication that he should move on to his next task of the day. Midoriya’s patrol area involves the outskirts of the city, places that are much more spread out that involve family homes and school districts. Shouto has always had overhead views of Midoriya’s area, but a ground observation of just how much Shouto and his team have to walk through gives him a clear sign that today is going to be a long day. 

He approaches the elementary school area right as the classrooms are opening up and the students are being let out for the day. He stops across the street, turning to watch the kids walk out of the buildings—some are turning on the sidewalk with friends for the trek back home, some are lingering in conversation or waiting for parents to pick them up. Some teachers have joined their students, ever the watchful eye to make sure that their students don’t get into trouble while waiting around for parental figures to show up. 

Shouto is about to turn and continue down the sidewalk when he hears a scream sound from the other side of the street, the call of someone’s name coming from the school. “Youta! Don’t run on the street!” 

Hastily, Shouto can feel his hero mask come on as he turns towards the school to see, just like the caller has said, a little boy dashing across the street. He’s got wild black hair, and a wild look of excitement across his face as Shouto realizes that this little boy is running straight towards him. 

On the street, a vehicle breaks hard, narrowly missing the kid as the little boy seems to suddenly realize his position, because he stops right in the middle of the road to stare at the car. That excitement melts away into fear as he remains frozen. 

It’s a gesture that only lasts a few seconds, because Shouto steps in and picks the kid, this Youta, up into his arms. He moves back onto the sidewalk, lifting his hand in apology to the driver before focusing his attention on the little boy. The pair of them stare at each other for a few seconds, before Youta’s face morphs back into that childlike wonder and excitement. 

“It’s you!” he exclaims, and Shouto blinks in disbelief. The kid seems great at forgetting his near-death experience just a few seconds prior. “Hero name Shouto! Power, fire on one side and ice on the other!” His eyes start to glimmer, not unlike another person Shouto knows very well. “So cool! Can I have your autograph!” 

Shouto opens his mouth, probably to respond, before another sound of footsteps behind him catches his attention. 

You’re standing in front of Shouto now, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as your chest heaves up and down from the sudden running you just had to engage in. “Youta!” you cry, partly in frustration and partly in relief. “You need to be more careful! Don’t run across the street like that!” 

Youta says your name, an excited breath of air as he jumps in Shouto’s arms on the beat that he’s calling out to you. “Look! It’s the pro hero Shouto! Look how cool he is!” 

You sigh, finally lifting your gaze from your student to Shouto. Your gaze turns a little meek at the sight of him, and it’s something that Shouto finds vaguely interesting. He’s used to wonderment, to nervousness, to the entitlement people have around him—like he owes people something because his career is built around protecting others—but you don’t give him any of that. In fact, you don’t even play along with Youta’s gushing about how cool Shouto is. “I’m sorry about Youta,” you say. “He really admires you, you’re his favorite hero.” 

Youta whines at that, struggling in Shouto’s arms as a sign that he’s ready to be put down. Shouto obliges, setting the boy back onto the ground, where Youta runs over to you at once. He tugs at the fabric of your pants. “Don’t embarrass me like that!” 

“Well, don’t turn a blind eye to everything else just because you see him on the street!” you return, just as sassy and easy and light-hearted and Shouto can’t look away from you, can’t look away from this interaction. “It’s dangerous, you could have been hurt!” After Youta pouts, relenting from the conversation, you turn back to Shouto. You smile, and it touches your eyes with a delicate nature. “Thank you so much for stepping in like that.” 

“It’s nothing,” Shouto manages to return once he remembers that he has a voice box for a reason. “I’m patrolling the area today, it’s just part of my job.” 

You laugh a little. “I thought Deku patrolled this area—he’s usually the one who turns up.” 

The way you mention Midoriya implies that you’ve seen him around, perhaps held one or two conversations with him before. Which, as a result, leaves Shouto feeling less wary about disclosing the All Might exhibition reservation that had come up. 

That makes you laugh again, a bright noise that only heightens Shouto’s interest in watching your expression. He watches the way your eyes crinkle in the corner, the way you smile, the way you look like you’re genuinely enjoying the moment, rather than dragging something on with the hopes of sneaking an ulterior motive into conversation. “You know, he did mention that a few weeks ago. I’m glad to hear that everything worked out in his favor.” There’s a pause, where he can sense your hesitation to speak again. “A-Are you having an okay time navigating the area?” 

He tilts his head. “What do you mean?” 

You cough, looking away for a moment. “Well, since Deku is usually the one who comes around, I usually don’t see you patrolling around here. I was just wondering if you were adjusting alright.” 

Were you concerned about him? That leaves another strange feeling in his chest. Perhaps you were just worried he wouldn’t be able to cover the area as thoroughly as Midoriya could. “I’m fine,” He says firmly. “Deku and I have agencies close to each other, so we’re familiar with the different areas we have to patrol. Don’t worry, you’re still safe under my watch.” 

You look vaguely stunned. However, that surprise switches to amusement as you laugh shyly before looking back up at him. At your look, Shouto feels his cheeks heat up slightly, because maybe you were just trying to make conversation. 

“Unless you were actually just asking how familiar I am with the area,” he rebuffs, looking away slightly so you wouldn’t see how embarrassed he actually feels. He doesn’t make conversation with strangers very often, and this moment is probably a dead giveaway. 

But you giggle instead of reprimanding him. “Well, yes—just in case you needed directions or anything. But it’s nice to know that you’ve got everything covered.” After another second of staring, you lower your neck into a slight bow. “Thank you for doing so, by the way. I assume that since this is Deku’s patrol area, you don’t need to be here covering this part of the city regardless of what’s going on in his personal life. But you’re still here.” 

Shouto stares you for a second, slightly stunned by your words, before he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s nothing.” 

He, however, does not look away. He merely continues to look at you, just as you are with him, before a voice from your side cuts through the growing tension. 

Youta whines your name, tugging on the fabric of your clothes again. “I’m bored! Can you stop flirting with Shouto and take me back to school!” 

Your eyes widen at the verb, turning to look down at Youta. “Youta! That’s a rude thing to say!” 

“What?” Youta protests loudly. “I saw you! And Shouto is all red too—!” 

“Youta!” you squeak out, kneeling down to try and properly shut the boy up this time. You press a hand to his mouth, peering up at Shouto and give him a guilty smile. “S-Sorry about that, uh… Shouto.” 

Although Shouto is his hero name, it’s also his first name and the usage of it feels so personal and intimate from your lips that he cannot help but flush deeper. He’s never one to hold conversations with people easily, so the fact that you’re able to slip in through the cracks with just a few words, smiles, and no expectations only seems to draw him in further. He manages a slight smile of his own. “It’s alright, I’ve had lots of experience with rowdy kids before.” 

You laugh. “That makes two of us, then.” Gently, you take Youta’s hand in your own and straighten up into a standing position. “Anyways, Youta’s right. I should probably be heading back.” 

Shouto nods, doing hard to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. “Of course,” he manages. 

“Thanks for saving my brat student,” you say as your last parting words, giving Shouto one last wave. “Youta, you wanna say bye to…” you trail off, hesitating. He’s clearly not the only one who knows that his hero name and his first name are the same. Still, you finish your sentence. “... Shouto.” 

Youta doesn’t notice your wavering tone. He just grips your hand tightly in his own, turning towards Shouto to give his goodbyes with open eyes and wide smiles. “Goodbye pro hero Shouto! Thank you for saving me!” 

Shouto smiles a little wider at that, watching as you and Youta look both ways this time before crossing the street. He can’t help but watch you leave, taking in your backside, wondering if he’s ever going to see  you again. A part of him wants to call out to you, just so you’ll look back and he can study your face one more time. But the words fail him, and Shouto merely resigns himself to watch you return back to the school. 

As carries on with the rest of his patrol afterwards, but the lack of anything exciting or action-packed calls for a rather uneventful day. Overall, he would say the whole day was—! 

“Alright.” This is what Shouto tells Midoriya later that night, when the former is back at home in his apartment, seated on the couch and recalling the events of the day to his friend. 

On the other side of the line, Midoriya sighs in relief. “That’s good to hear. So nothing interesting at all happened? No one talked to you or gave you a hard time?” 

“No one gave me a hard time,” Shouto settles with, but for some reason his mind flickers to you, Youta, and the elementary school. Mainly you. But he can’t blow his cover yet. “While I was patrolling the schools one of the kids recognized me and ran across the street to try and catch up with me.” 

Midoriya stifles a laugh at Shouto’s embarrassed tone. Shouto has always had a problem being recognized—it’s the hair. “That’s pretty terrifying.” 

“Luckily, it was a school zone, so no one was driving fast anyways. But uh… I met one of the teachers at the elementary school.” 

Midoriya is quiet for a second. “Really?” he asks, his tone feathery and light but it betrays a new level of interest. After all, Shouto is fully aware of how rare it is to hear him talk about a stranger. “Did you catch a name? Maybe I’ve heard of this person.” 

Shouto tests out your name for the first time, speaking it into his phone and feeling the weight of it on his tongue. He decides that he likes it, along with the memories he has of you berating your student with such a teasing tone. Even from just a first meeting, the impression you leave behind is one of comfort and warmth. 

Over the phone, Midoriya hums in recognition. “Oh yes, I know who you’re talking about! We’ve had a handful of conversations during my patrols. Really, really sweet and easy to get along with. It sounds like fate that you guys met—I’m glad she helped you have a better day.” 

Shouto stammers, feeling his heart race a little at Midoriya’s words. “A better day?” he echoes. Although, he can’t find it in himself to deny. It’s been a few hours and he’s still mulling over your conversation, and wondering if he’s ever going to see you again. 

“You didn’t have to say it directly,” Midoriya says teasingly. “I can tell. Anyways, I should head off. Good night, Todoroki. Thanks again for today.” 

Shouto nods, giving his final parting, before the pair of them hang up. The phone doesn’t immediately get tossed aside, however, Shouto lets it lay in his hand. He ponders it for a few minutes, before giving up and placing it onto the coffee table. The sooner he can replace his memories of you with more recent ones, the better. 

That’s what he tells himself anyways. 

When Midoriya mentions the power of fate over the phone, Shouto doesn’t think anything of it. He passes off his encounter with you as just a byproduct of the day—you had been the nicest thing to happen to him all day, so of course he would think of it as a highlight. But, that had just been a coincidence. Right? 

At least, that’s what Shouto tells himself for the week and half following his first encounter with you. 

Because a week and a half plus one day, he sees you again. It’s wet today, with rain pouring out of the sky at a speed that shows no signs of slowing down—and Shouto finds himself at the grocery store. Given the rain, he’s dressed in a coat and bucket hat, face mask and rimmed-glasses. The outfit is partly to battle the chill and partly to prevent any unwanted attention from landing upon him. In the case of today, any attention is unwanted. He just wants to collect the items on his list and be on his way. 

Although it seems the universe has another plan for him. 

As he stands in the noodle aisle, trying to select a new collection of soba to bring home, another figure approaches the selection with fingers inching along the various brands. Shouto’s eyes unconsciously drift towards the company, before widening at the sight of you. You’re dressed more casual than the other day, a little cozier too. But your hair is damp, like you’ve just ran in the rain to get here. But he knows your face better than he knows most faces nowadays, especially because (for better or for worse) you’ve been on his mind for the past week and five days. 

For a second, he can’t believe it. Twenty plus years he’s been on this Earth, along with the three years he’s been turning up to this grocery store; the fact that he’s seeing you again now of all times is vaguely baffling. Or, perhaps you’ve always been here this whole time, but he just hasn’t noticed you. 

Yet, he sees you now more clearly than ever. 

The longer he openly stares at you like some creep, the quicker he realizes that he should probably speak up. So he raises a vacant hand up, waving it slightly to get your attention. “Um…” he starts, speaking up a little so you’ll notice him. 

You turn your head towards him, your eyes glimmering under the lights of the marketplace. “Oh, sorry!” you exclaim, taking a step back. “Am I in your way?” 

“No, it’s okay!” Shouto says, bringing that same hang to tug down his face-mask. “It’s me—uh, from the patrol last week…” 

He doesn’t need to expand, because your eyes have sharpened with familiarity as soon as he removed the mask. Your eyes widen. “Shouto—oh! I-I mean, Todoroki,” you return, hastily making the correction, as Shouto is not on hero duty today and thus doesn’t need to be addressed by his hero name. A part of him misses it, but another part of him enjoys you calling him by his last name. It makes him feel normal. “W-What are you doing here?” 

Shouto holds up his basket. “Food.” 

You flush at that. “N-No—I mean, I would have assumed that’s what you were here for but… ah, it’s just, I didn’t know you came to this specific grocery store. I’ve, uh, never seen you around before.” 

Shouto lowers his basket. “Do you… normally look around for me?” 

The question makes you flush deeper, a cute little gesture that Shouto makes sure to watch closely. “T-That’s not it at all! It’s just, I’m sure it’s hard to find the time to go grocery shopping given your occupation and social status. I-I didn’t mean it like I was looking around for you every time I walked in—!” 

Cute, Shouto internally coos, deciding to now flash his small smile. “I’m messing with you,” he cuts in softly. 

You stop at once, eyes still wide. The momentary stunness you feel at his teasing leaves you silent. 

Shouto continues. “Normally I’m not grocery shopping in broad daylight. If I’m the one shopping, I’ll go late at night when there’s hardly anyone around. Most of the time, though, my assistant will come by and pick up food. This is actually a rarity for me.” 

You stare at him for a few more prolonged seconds. For a moment, Shouto is afraid that he has taken it too far, before you burst out into laughter. “That was pretty good,” you say through your smile. You soften up a bit. “Are you almost finished getting everything?” 

“Almost,” he confirms. “Though I am a little lost on where I can get some shrimp…” 

“Oh, I can take you there,” you volunteer, waving your own basket of goodies at him. “I have to head over there too.” 

With a nod from Shouto, he grabs the soba noodle packages he was eying and follows you down the aisle. You seem to notice his excessive collection of soba, because you ask about it with the traces of amusement in your eyes. Your question serves as a catalyst for conversation, and soon you’re both discussing your personal preferences for food, bits and pieces of your childhood, and surface-level engagement over your friendships. 

Although it’s a light exchange of information between the two of you, Shouto only finds himself further enamored by your presence. Since this conversation is significantly longer and significantly more zeroed-in on the pair of you, he feels as if he can pinpoint why he likes you so much. It’s because you never ask questions about his quirk, his family, or what it’s like being a hero. You don’t even try to passive aggressively imply that you want those kinds of juicy answers. You just treat Shouto like a normal person—never expecting anything from him more than a nice conversation. 

Fame, glory, and status—you don’t care about any of those things. You don’t ask him how he feels about it, which is strange because that’s all anyone else seems to care about. It’s the number one question he constantly gets as the number two hero: How does it feel to be the son of Endeavor and hold his spot at such a young age? You must feel so powerful! 

Yet, your eyes never expose that kind of lustful curiosity. You just carry on with jokes about your day, something one of your students did that made you laugh, and you are content. 

And he finds that he likes that peace you have. Even if it’s in the middle of the grocery store on a rainy late Friday afternoon. 

The pair of you stand in line together, where you pay for your groceries respectfully and head towards the entrance. Shouto grabs his umbrella from the rack along the front, noticing that you don’t do the same. At first, he doesn’t comment on it, until the grocery store doors open and the aggressive stomping of the rain is more clearly defined. The rain is so heavy and thick that he can make out the drops that fall from the sky, right before it splashes against the pavement. 

You’re wearing a nervous look as you tighten your grip on the bag, before you turn to Shouto to flash him a parting smile. “Well, it was nice to see you again, Shouto. Take care.” 

“Wait,” Shouto calls out. The cars along the street in front of you whisk past you, blowing up more water onto the sidewalk. He eyes you for a second. “You didn’t bring an umbrella,” he points out. 

You laugh, giving him a shrug. “I really thought it would stop, so I didn’t think to bring one. It’s okay! I can just run to the station, no problem.” 

Shouto immediately hands you his umbrella. “Here, just take mine. You’ll catch a cold.” 

Your lips part at his offer—probably noting the zero hesitation in his eyes. “Todoroki, it’s okay. It was my fault I didn’t bring my umbrella!” you exclaim, holding both hands up. “There’s no need for you to suffer because of me.” 

Shouto doesn’t retract his arm. “If you don’t take it, I’ll be worried about you for the rest of the day. That’ll be even more suffering on my part.” 

“W-Well, you’ll catch a cold!” you rebuff frantically. 

“I have my fire quirk.” 

You press your lips together, pouting slightly. “You’re just trying to guilt me, aren’t you?” 

The corner of his lips turn up. “Is it working?” 

You hold his gaze for a few seconds longer, realizing that he isn’t going to back down. Hesitantly, you take the umbrella from him, holding it over your head. “Can I at least walk you to the station?” you squeak out. 

Shouto shakes his head. “I actually live nearby. You can go ahead, it’s okay.” 

You still look troubled by his demand, but you relent with a sigh. “O-Okay then,” you manage. “Thank you, Todoroki.” 

Suddenly, Shouto is glad for the cold of his quirk. It does well to hide the flush that threatens to overtake his features. “You’re welcome.” 

He watches your lingering gaze for just a moment, before you step out onto the street and make your way to the station. He watches until you’re gone, before he turns in the opposite direction and dashes as fast as he can towards his apartment. 

And he’s smiling the entire way there. 

It rains the following day too, which is why Shouto shows up at his agency looking like he just showered in his clothes. His secretary is all worries and frantic eyes as she straightens up from her desk to approach him. 

“Todoroki!” she cries, hands scrambling about. “A-Are you alright? Did you lose your umbrella?” 

Shouto grunts in acknowledgment. Now that he’s indoors, he activates his fire quirk, allowing the warmth to course through his body as the water soon melts off his body like steam. “I didn’t lose it—but I don’t have it with me today.” At Riku’s furrowed eyebrows, he relents. Slightly. “I let someone borrow it yesterday.” 

Borrow might be too generous of a word. After all, he had given it to you not knowing if he was ever going to see you again. Which is slightly disheartening, but most of him just hopes that you didn’t catch a cold. 

The thought of you brings a slight smile to his lips. 

Riku, on the other hand, is still fretting over him. “You let someone borrow your umbrella? A friend?” 

“Er…” Shouto hesitates. “Just… someone I met,” he explains vaguely. 

Riku raises an eyebrow. “Someone you met,” she echoes. She starts looking less worried and more suspicious. “You don’t share your personal belongings with strangers. Who was it? Someone from a hero agency?”  

Shouto is quiet again. “No…” 

Riku’s gaze flickers over him. “Todoroki,” she starts slowly, delicately, amused. “Are you seeing someone?” 

Shouto scoffs, turning to look at his secretary. “No,” he counters again. But he answers a little too quickly. And Riku has been working at his agency since he formed it—she knows him well enough. 

Riku is trying to hide her smile now. “Then, I imagine that perhaps there’s someone you fancy, which is why you’re so attentive all of a sudden.” 

“I don’t see how this has to be a thing—!” Shouto tries to deflect again, but he’s slipping.  

“Uh, excuse me?” 

The clarity and familiarity of your voice pierces through Shouto, moving his body before he can even think. He turns at once, where he immediately sees you standing at the door of his agency. You’re dressed a little more fit for the weather—a big bright pink raincoat and matching rain hat with a glow that match the dewy complexion of your face. Shouto can’t help but keep his gaze on your face. He says your name, and although his tone is his usual state of composure, there is the unusual sensation of butterflies in his chest at the sight of you. 

You smile, gaze flickering between him and Riku. “Am I interrupting anything?” 

“Not at all,” Shouto says, casting a glance at Riku, who is eying you curiously. “What can I help you with?” 

“W-Well, uh,” you stammer, fidgeting with your umbrella. It has drawings of bears along the fabric. “Oh!” You exclaim, seeming to have momentarily forgotten what you were doing here. You hold up a bag. “I, uh, have your umbrella here. Although…” you eye him, taking note of his dry attire. “It seems like you don’t need this.” 

Shouto smiles a little. “Well, having it is still helpful. Thank you for bringing this over.” he gently takes the bag from you. “I wasn’t sure I’d see this again.” 

You laugh a little, adjusting the rain hat. “No worries. It was a nice excuse to see you again.” 

He feels his mind short-circuit at your comment, at your smile—because you wanted to see him. 

“How are you doing?” you ask, eyes flickering over the lobby of his agency. It’s a little strange seeing you in his world, but it’s something that a part of him enjoys. “Did you just get in?” 

“For today, yes. Did you need to talk about something else?” Shouto turns his head slightly to realize that Riku is still very obviously eavesdropping on your conversation. “How about we step into my office?” 

You nod, and let Shouto lead the pair of you into his office—a bigger space with a desk in the middle, a couch, chairs across the desk, and some potted cactus atop a filing cabinet in the corner. Despite it’s big space, it’s very homey with muted tones and cleanliness. 

Rather than take a seat at his desk, he plops himself down atop the couch. “What did you want to talk about? Is everything okay?” 

You smile, slowly sitting next to him. “Everything is fine. I was actually hoping you’d let me treat you to some ramen tonight. I know this place a few blocks down from your agency. Just so I can say thank you for the whole umbrella thing yesterday. That really helped me a lot.” 

Shouto feels his mouth dry out slightly at your request. Were you… asking him out? 

His heart beats a little quicker. “You really don’t have to,” he says instead, trying to maintain his neat facade. “Just knowing that the umbrella helped is more than enough.” 

You smile. “C’mon Shouto. Let me treat you. If not for the borrowing, then as a gesture of friendship.” 

Friendship. He flickers his gaze to you, where you’re already staring at him. 

You continue. “If you’re uncomfortable, of course, then we don’t have to. But I wouldn’t mind if you threw on your incognito outfit.” 

He blinks at that. “You wouldn’t mind if I wore something?” 

You blink at that. “Why would I mind?” 

He keeps his eyes on you for a little longer, trying to scope the truthfulness from your words. But he hadn’t seen any reason to not believe you before, so of course he would only continue to see genuine concern in your eyes once more. No fame, glory, or status in an incognito outfit. 

“Sure,” he finally settles. It’s a softer voice, but worth it to see the bright smile that overtakes your expression. 

You straighten up. “Yay!” you exclaim. “Wow, I’m so excited! I know you’re a big soba fan, but the ramen is to die for, I promise. What time will you finish patrolling?” 

“Well, we don’t have a big case or anything, so I’ll probably be finished up around six?” 

You grin. “Perfect. I, uh, have to head over to the school, but I’ll be back.” 

Shouto stands up to join you. “You have to go to the school? But it’s Saturday.” 

You start to walk out of Shouto’s office with him at your tail. “I actually offer some additional tutoring over the weekend. Some of my kids have been having trouble with math, and I got a lot of requests to do weekend office hours.” 

Shouto regards you thoughtfully. “That’s very nice of you.” 

You laugh softly at that. “My students are my life, Todoroki. I just want to make sure I’m giving them the right tools to help them make their own decisions and succeed in whatever they decide to do.” 

He stares at you. Make their own decisions and succeed in whatever they decide to do. No fame, glory, or status in that. 

You don’t seem weirded out by his silence. Instead, you take that as a cue to leave as you deliver one last goodbye and open your umbrella to step out into the street. 

He watches you go, completely in a trance until Riku slams a manilla folder against his chest. Hard. “Hi Todoroki,” she greets. “Welcome back to Earth. Hope you had a good time looking at angels.” 

Shouto stares over at Riku. “Angels?” he repeats. 

Riku grins. “I’ve known you for a couple years, Todoroki. You keep to yourself and are really selective about people you let into your life. I can tell when you start to open up a little.” She goes back behind her desk after that, leaving Shouto standing in the middle of the lobby. His only distraction comes when one of his sidekicks shows up to kick him back into action. 

What Shouto does know is that he is looking forward to the evening. 

The rain stops by the time Shouto is done with work, and the lack of rain leaves behind a glistening pavement that splashes underneath shoes with every step taken. He finds himself lingering near the entrance of his agency, too antsy to step back inside and face the rapid-fire questions of his secretary, but mostly just because he’s anxious to see you again. Is that how it normally is—to wonder about someone every second they aren’t around? 

He’s about to take out his phone, when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. It’s you, so close that you were about to tap him on the shoulder, and Shouto feels his heart start to flutter again. Even though he had seen you a few hours ago, there’s something about your raincoat and rain hat that hits differently under warm street lights. “I’m so sorry,” you exclaim. “I saw you from down the block, but didn’t want to call out your name. I was worried someone would recognize you and make you feel uncomfortable.” 

You say that sentence with such ease that Shouto doesn’t linger his gaze on your eyes anymore. He merely smiles and nods. “That’s okay. I didn’t mind waiting.” 

Your eyes trace over his face, taking in his appearance that what he has used as incognito for today. You grin. “I like what you’ve got going on. It looks good.” 

Shouto smiles crookedly. He reaches up, unconsciously adjusting the fake glasses he’s got. “Really? I wore this last time we saw each other.” 

You shrug. “It still looks good.” you look away first, pointing down the street. “The ramen shop is just a few blocks down. Let’s go!” 

So you start making your way down the pavement, displaying a little skip in your step that Shouto notices right away. “Did you have a good day today?” he asks. “How did the tutoring go?” 

“It was nice,” you say. “Do you remember Youta? He still talks about that encounter with you. I think he’ll remember that moment for the rest of his life.” 

Shouto smiles. “I’m pretty sure I’ll remember that moment for the rest of my life.” 

You laugh. “Oh god, I’ll try to make sure not to tell Youta that. He’ll probably cry from excitement. He loves you a lot—says you’re his whole dream, given your fire quirk and everything.” 

From how easy the conversation between the two of you is, Shouto is surprised to find that the pair of you reach the ramen shop in no time, and are given a booth seat in the back corner of the shop. Again, fate plays a role in keeping the pair of you away from wandering eyes. A waiter comes by to take your orders, where you order the same thing for both yourself and Shouto. As soon as the waiter is gone, Shouto edges closer to you. “So, I’m guessing that Youta has a fire quirk then?” 

You turn your attention back to him and nod. “He does. He’s a little insecure about it, since he doesn’t know how to control it yet. But he’s read all about you—watched your first year at the sports festival on TV.” You hesitate for a moment. “I know your childhood hasn’t been ideal. And I can never know what’s going on in your head, but I hope you know that where you are right now means a lot to kids like Youta. And I think that even if you weren’t the number two hero, you’d still be inspiration.” 

Shouto stares at you from across the table. Even if he wasn’t the number two hero—even if he didn’t strive for fame, glory, and status—he’d still have meaning. 

He stares at you for a long time, that he only moves when the waiter returns with your bowls of tonkatsu. 

“Is that why you became a teacher?” he asks quietly after a few moments, after you’ve taken a package of wooden chopsticks from the cup next to you. “To make people feel heard?” 

You laugh softly, breaking apart your chopsticks to stir the broth inside. “More like children, Todoroki. I can’t inspire adults—I’m just one person.” 

He shrugs. “That can be more effective than you think.” He looks down at his soup when he feels the weight of your gaze on him. “By the way,” he starts. “You can call me Shouto now.”

You blink in surprise. “Really?” 

“If anything, just as a gesture of friendship.” 

The usage of your own words against you makes you send him a private smile from across the table. But he sees it. 

Just as you see him. 

It is another two weeks before Shouto has a free day—and it so happens to fall on a Saturday. He allows himself to curl up in bed a little more for a little longer, until the very possible last minute before he’s forcing himself to crawl out of bed just to eat something. By the time he’s munching on some morning toast, it’s almost 10:30 in the morning—and his mind flickers to you. 

Not only has he not seen you in two weeks, but he also hasn’t been able to reach out to you. Strangely, neither of you have exchanged phone numbers yet, because it always slips his mind to ask until you’ve already turned the corner and it’s too late. If anything, that only heightens his curiosity for you in the seconds when his mind isn’t preoccupied. 

But with a day off, there isn’t much for his mind to be preoccupied with. 

He stares out of the window, recalling your schedule for the day, and he decides to get changed. He dawns a casual wear of a white t-shirt, black slacks, and denim jacket before heading out of his apartment and down the stairs. He ducks down into the train station, stepping off at the stop that’s just a few blocks away from the elementary school. 

The relatively sunny weather of today allows for his bucket hat, fake glasses, and lowered gazes. Although it’s the weekend, the area is still crowded with children and students either fulfilling club duties or hanging out in each other’s company. Hardly anyone pays attention to Shouto as he steps onto the campus and enters the building. Within the building, it’s a little more empty and devoid of students—just the occasional chatter of students finishing up weekend curriculums. 

He wanders about the halls, before he notices a fellow teacher turning the corner up ahead. She notices him immediately. “Hi there,” she says, tilting her head at his appearance. “Can I help you with something? We usually don’t get visitors on the weekend.” 

Shouto smiles slightly, before relaying your name. “That’s who I’m looking for—I understand she does math tutoring around this time?” 

The woman’s eyes widen, like she knows exactly what Shouto is doing here. “I’ll, uh, lead the way.” She turns around and starts walking down the hallway, with Shouto right behind her. Her pace allows Shouto the luxury of looking outside, admiring the view, stepping into your world for once. 

Finally, she stops at a classroom, where the door is slightly ajar and your voice comes fluttering from the inside. The teacher in front of Shouto gives him a stay put glance, before she’s sliding open the door. She calls your name. “You have a visitor.” 

Your voice falters slightly, but stops. A few footsteps, and you’re stepping out into the hallway. Your eyes widen at the sight of him. “Todoroki—oh, uh, Shouto,” you correct yourself. The fact that you remember the conversation at the ramen shop, and Shouto relaying his preference for you to call him by his first name, brings his lips up. “What are you doing here?” 

Shouto glances at the teacher, who is flickering her gaze curiously between the two of you. 

You notice the loiterer immediately. “Karly, do you mind giving us a second?” you say to her. 

Karly blinks in surprise, as if she hadn’t expected to be caught. “O-Oh, of course! I’ll leave you to it.” She lingers for another second before disappearing down the hall. 

You watch her leave. “She’s actually a good friend of mine,” you explain. “She knows that we’ve been hanging out, so she just wanted to see if it was true or not.” 

Shouto smiles. “Your friend seems to trust you a lot.” 

You snort at that. “Tell me about it.” You straighten up a little, glancing over at him. “So, Shouto, what brings you here? I haven’t been seeing you around. In person. My TV, though, has been having a lot of fun watching out for you though.” 

His smile broadens a little. “Yes, I apologize. Work has been keeping me preoccupied. I would have called you but…” he trails off. Was that too forward of him? 

You catch on. “Oh yeah! You know, I’m actually surprised we haven’t exchanged phone numbers yet. Here.” You hold your hand out. “Give me your phone.” Once you do put your digits into his phone, you’re still wearing that small smile—like you know something he doesn’t. “I hope you aren’t just here to ask for my phone number.” 

“I wasn’t,” Shouto confirms. “I was wondering if we could hang out again. Last time was enjoyable, and I haven’t seen you in awhile.” 

You grin. “Well, I’m glad you thought so, Shouto. Any place you have in mind?” 

There is a place indeed—and that’s how the pair of you end up in the Harajuku district after the last student from your math tutoring session has left. Shouto stuck around for the remaining two hours, claiming that he didn’t have any plans. That hadn’t been a lie, but he also didn’t want to keep you waiting when you happened to finish. 

By the time you finish your paperwork for the day and hop onto the train with Shouto, it’s nearing the late afternoon, and the Harajuku shopping district is in full swing with crowds of people walking about, shopping, and conversing with friends. 

You and Shouto find a corner restaurant to eat lunch, a little cafe with wooden tables and light streaming in through the big windows along every corner—where the food is served on trays and drinks poured into mason jars. You relay updates about your classes, while Shouto willingly indulges on his hero assignments. 

After the late lunch, the pair of you take the streets. Neither of you buy anything, nor spend too much time in any of the stores that line the area. You mostly just find homes along the benches, along the pavement, in front of the stores, where all these separate spaces are used to hang out and catch up. And Shouto lives for it. He finds that he enjoys your smile and teasing words more than any hero victory he’s had over the past two weeks, that he looks forward to seeing you more than he’s willing to admit. 

He doesn’t even realize how much time has gone by until the sky has darkened and you tell him that you should probably head back now—early morning teacher meetings tomorrow. 

So of course Shouto, who doesn’t want to leave you but doesn’t know entirely why, offers to walk you back. “And here,” He says, slipping off his denim jacket when he notices the chill in the air. “It’s cold.” 

You sputter slightly at his offer. “B-But you—!” 

“I have my quirk,” he fills in smoothly, flashing you a small smile. It’s a smile that internally grows when you take the jacket and slip it over your arms. 

The jacket stays on during the journey home, as the pair of you embark on the train ride back to your apartment, and as the pair of you scale the stairs to your apartment. 

“Thank you for walking me back,” you say, stopping outside your doorway. “And thanks for inviting me out today. It was fun.” 

“It was fun,” Shouto agrees, giving you a small smile. “I’ve heard that Harajuku has a lot of animal cafes. How do you feel about holding kittens?” 

You brighten up at the question. “I love animals. Are you implying that you want to go visit animal cafes with me?” 

He keeps his gaze on you. “Perhaps,” he relents after a second. “I’m realizing that I enjoy your company.” 

You beam. “I enjoy your company too, Shouto.” 

“And I just want to say,” he continues, watching you carefully. “I just wanted to thank you.” 

You blink. “For what?”

Shouto averts his gaze for a moment. “For being a peaceful force in my life.” He looks back at you. “I was raised to believe that I only needed three things to be happy: fame, glory, and status. For a while, I thought that nothing else mattered. I thought that I was defined by those things. But meeting you has made me realize that I don’t need to depend so heavily on the glory of being a hero to feel like a person. That sometimes, it’s okay to just be a human being. I don’t think I would have realized those things without you. I like being with you, and being in your company is relaxing to me. I hope that we can continue that relationship.” 

You grin at his words, eyes softening up as you gaze at him with such attentiveness it makes his heart stutter. “I like being with you too.” Your eyes glimmer like stars off a black lake, and if Shouto hadn’t fallen before—he can now.

He doesn’t even realize how close the pair of you have gotten until you’re all he can see in his vision. Your gaze flickers down to his lips, and his heart officially crawls up into his throat. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. Perhaps it’s the wrong thing to ask so soon after an exchange of emotions like this, but you manage to maintain your soft smile as you nod and grip his shirt between your fingers. 

So he does, lips against yours. At first, it’s soft and warm and still—but he feels entrapped. It doesn’t take long for him to press deeper, to nip at your bottom lip, to wrap his arms around your waist to bring you closer to him. And you take it all. Kissing you is like flying and falling at the exact same time—and his sensations are heightened, able to feel the way your fingers cradle the back of his neck, the noises of contentment that leave your throat. 

He isn’t even aware of what’s happening, what you’re doing, and where you’re doing it, until someone clears their throat and Shouto immediately pulls away from you. Both of you turn to face someone—he can only assume she is a neighbor. Her expression is filled partly with amusement and partly with annoyance. “Take it inside before you make everyone throw up.” 

He catches the way you smile with your kiss-stained lips. “S-Sorry about that ,” you whisper, watching as she walks away from both of you. 

Shouto fully turns back to you, so close that his lips hover at your ear. “Sorry,” he whispers, feeling embarrassed to have lost his composure and gotten carried away so easily. With the way both of you are pressed up against the wall near your door, he realizes he must have slammed you here during your kissing. “I didn’t mean to get carried away.” 

“I didn’t mind it,” you say with a giggle as Shouto lifts himself up to look at you. 

He can feel his eyes darken. “Don’t say that. It’ll make me never want to leave.” 

You level your chin to look at him. “Why don’t you start with coming inside?” 

After he realizes that you aren’t going to outwardly reject him due to his poor kissing skills (at least that’s what he thinks), he can’t help but smile. “I’d enjoy that.” 

You smile, gaze flickering down to his mouth as you lean forward to kiss him again. He feels blind to anything that isn’t you, so much so that he chases your lips when you pull away. You pull on his wrist as you pull him into your apartment. 

Fate indeed. 

#todoroki shouto x you #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shouto fluff #todoroki shoto fluff #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #traci writes for mha

[cupofmiko]

THE BOYFRIEND EXPERIENCE — todoroki shouto x f!reader

shocked that you've never had a boyfriend before him, todoroki is determined to make up for lost time by showering you with as many cheesy gestures as possible. 

genre: established relationship au | fluff 

warnings: reader is in her first relationship, shouto is in love + he’s trying his best, cheesy moments!!!!!, a picnic date inspired by rachel & jun’s recent video, bakugo is the off-screen begrudging friend just trying to help out 

word count: 3.9k 

The evening of your one-year anniversary with Todoroki finds the pair of you on the couch, your arms around his midriff and his arm around the back of your shoulders. The finished takeout that Todoroki promises to throw away into the trash bins outside of your apartment building sits on the table, all neatly stacked up, while the small dessert he bought for you sits on the coffee table—a cupcake with two forks resting on the unfolded wrapper. Sitting in front of the eaten cupcake is a small array of candles, all lit up and emitting a mixture of smells ranging across light florals. 

Overall, the atmosphere is one of such soft affection that it makes your heart race in your chest. This is especially the case as Todoroki rests his cheek on the top of your head, the movement tucking you closer to him. The gesture, while subtle, brings a wordless smile to your lips. Todoroki isn’t the most physically affectionate boyfriend, so small things like this really make your heart race. 

And this entire evening has been nothing but an endless series of heart racing undertakings, despite its uneventfulness. In fact, Todoroki had to work for most of the day—so you had expected fast food and late night arrives, and an anniversary scheduled for another evening. Not that you minded, of course. Your relationship with Todoroki has always been lowkey and foundational; you never needed any big romantic gestures to reaffirm what you were already fully confident in. 

Yet, Todoroki surprised you by arriving at your apartment a few hours early, with a bag of your favorite take-out food and handfuls of hand-picked candles, ones that brought a warm glow to your living room as the pair of you exchanged presents. All of his actions and gestures throughout the night up until this point have been small, but packed more meaning than he could ever know. 

You’re practically on cloud nine, too swept away by the night, that you almost don’t notice Todoroki asking you a question. “Baby?” he whispers, turning his cheek slightly. “Are you awake?” 

You shift. “Yeah,” you mutter back. The pair of you readjust yourselves so that you can look up at Todoroki. “What’s up?” 

“Has tonight been… enjoyable?” he asks, gazing off to the side to showcase the pink of his cheeks. “I know I had to work today, so I wanted to do what I could.” 

You sit up. “Shouto, are you kidding? Today has been so fun and unexpected. I wasn’t even expecting you to bring food over!” You grin. “You make me really happy.” 

The corner of his lips turn up, before they lower as he ponders yet again. “How does it compare with your past relationships?” he starts carefully. The hand that is not wrapped around your shoulder clenches tighter at the denim on his legs, showcasing the depth of his nerves. It’s not very often the two of you discuss unnecessary past events. In fact, this is the first time Todoroki is asking you about previous boyfriends. 

It makes sense. Perhaps he would not have asked the question had he known. 

You try for a casual shrug. “I’ve actually never been in a relationship before. So I’d consider this a first first anniversary!” you remark cheerfully, turning your attention back to the show playing on TV. 

You don’t notice Todoroki’s pensive silence until he’s sitting forward a little, shifting you so that you are now deprived of his warmth. At first, your mind whirls. Did he have a problem with the fact that you never dated anyone before him? 

The internal question makes you pout. “Is that a problem?” you ask quietly. 

Todoroki turns to look at you. “It’s not,” he reassures softly. “But I can’t help but wonder: if this is your first anniversary ever, why not ask for something more special?” 

You mirror Todoroki’s previous sitting up motion until your chest is at his back, where you latch your arms around his neck. “Shouto,” you mumble into his ear. “This is special to me. I don’t need expensive dinners or dressy situations or public outings. I just wanted to spend the evening with you, cuddling and eating good food and I got to do that!” 

Todoroki leans back into you. “What if I think you deserved a more special anniversary though?” 

You smile, kissing his cheek. “That’s sweet of you. But you took the time to leave work early and bring me my favorite food. It’s more than enough for me.” 

He ponders your reassurance for a moment, before he nods and delivers his own kiss on your cheek before settling back into the couch with you. Your attention resumes on the show, as your mind drifts away to the sensation of Todoroki’s fingers drawing patterns on the back of your neck. Something in his pose says that there’s something internally weighing in his mind, but your consciousness drifts away before you can linger too long on it. 

The following morning, you wake up in bed with your head still in the clouds and the pressure of his lips still on your cheek. Todoroki must have carried you to bed last night after you fell asleep. 

After feeling the empty space next to you, you assume that he must have woken up early for work. Makes sense, considering that he took an early afternoon yesterday—he’s probably trying to make up the extra tasks and paperwork he had to miss. You smile to yourself, still in a haze about yesterday, before you sit up and inch yourself towards the end of the bed. Your hand blindly goes to your nightstand to reach for your phone, but you feel a cup and a slip of paper taped to the cup in the middle of your journey to get there. 

Your gaze turns towards your nightstand, eyes trying to figure out just what exactly your fingers had touched, as you settle on a glass of water that had not been there the previous night. On the glass is a post-it note, reflecting back Todoroki’s neat penmanship. Happy Anniversary (take #2) the note says. The sight makes your eyebrows furrow in response. A take two anniversary? What does that mean?

You think about this for a moment; however, draw up no ideas as to what exactly this is in reference to. You decide to continue with the rest of your morning route, mentally adding a shower into your checklist given that you were unable to take one last night due to you falling asleep earlier than expected. You’re still in one of Todoroki’s t-shirts that he has left over at your place, although it seems like he has removed the shorts you were wearing. You grab your own shirt and pants for today, tucking everything you need underneath your arm and opening your bedroom door. 

The original plan is just to walk across the hall to your bathroom, but the sight of something unfamiliar in your living room catches your attention as you stop in your path and perform a double take. You think you see a small array of light pink dahlia bouquets scattered around the limited view you have of your living room. It’s a sight that makes you frown. You don’t remember ordering any sort of flower arrangement. 

Continuing to frown, you walk down the hallway until the hallway opens up into the living room. The sight makes your eyes widen and drop the clothes you were holding in your arms, because your entire living room is covered with dahlias. From the coffee table, to the couch, to the floor in front of your television, to your kitchen table—every little spot is filled with pink tin cans of dahlia arrangements. 

Your lips part as the frown continues etched into your eyebrows. What on earth was going on? “S-Shouto?” you call out nervously. You angle your chin towards the kitchen all while keeping your eyes on the dahlia field in front of you. 

“In the kitchen,” he returns back. 

You blink, turning towards the direction of the kitchen. For the first time of the morning, you hear the faint bubbling of a pot. 

Hesitantly, you shuffle from the living room into the entrance of the kitchen, staring cautiously at the back of your boyfriend as his arms move back and forth across the stove. The sight of Todoroki cooking is relatively uncommon in this relationship, which only deepens your confusion—because what the fuck? 

At your prolonged silence, Todoroki quickly spares you a glance over his shoulder. He smiles slightly, likely over the fact that you’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes. “Good morning, baby. Did you have a good dream last night?” 

You look off to the side, the crease still not disappearing from between your eyes. “I think I’m still in one.” 

At the stove, he exhales a gentle laugh. “Fortunately for you, that’s not the case.” With that said, he turns the dial in order to shut off the stove. He uses a ladle to pour some of the unidentifiable soup into one of your favorite bowls (the ones with the Sumikko Gurashi characters along the outside edges), before turning around and unveiling the contents. It’s a bowl of miso soup. “There’s rice in the rice cooker. I may or may not have had to ask Bakugo for the receipt.” He gestures towards the kitchen table. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll bring the food out to you?” 

Suspicious. Despite that, you nod and navigate through your apartment until you reach the kitchen table. You slide tentatively into your usual chair, fidgeting with your fingers as you continue to hear glassware rummaging about in the kitchen. 

You keep quiet, even as Todoroki emerges with a tray of the soup, a separate bowl of rice, and a tea boiled egg. You continue to remain silent as he places the tray in front of you, as he kisses the top of your head. 

“Eat up, okay?” he says softly, returning back to the kitchen—probably to make his own tray of breakfast. 

He reappears a few seconds later with his own set of food, watching you carefully as he takes a seat next to you. 

“Shouto,” you start slowly. “Is this about that take two post-it note I saw earlier today?” 

Todoroki continues to stare at you. “Yes,” he finally relents. “I just want to give you a more memorable first anniversary. So I’ve prepared a small list of things for us to do together throughout the day.  

Your lips part slightly, vaguely remembering the conversation from last night. Surely, he really hadn’t thought you were lying about how satisfied you were with your relationship?

He must see the troubled look in your eye, because he smiles and reaches over to grasp your hand. “This has nothing to do with our conversation yesterday. I understand that you were happy with the evening we had. I enjoyed it as well. But I just want to give you more and make our first anniversary a little more special—will you let me do that?” 

You stare back at Todoroki for a moment, briefly pondering the situation. While you really were satisfied with how the events of last night played out, something tells you that Todoroki will not let this go. Once he’s determined, nothing can stop him. 

Plus, you are curious to see what he has planned for the rest of the day. 

So you take the soup spoon Todoroki placed down on your tray, dipping it into the soup, and bringing it to your lips. “I’m sure I’ll love everything you have in-store.” You shoot one last glance at Todoroki, just in time to see a slightly wider but much warmer smile appear across his lips. 

After the pair of you get through breakfast and you are able to waddle through the forest of dahlia bouquets that quite literally covers every inch of your living room, you finally take a shower with a more reassured mind about what the fuck is going on. To think that you almost walked right past the field of dahlia’s on your way to the bathroom—now, it is all you can think about. 

You emerge a few minutes later with makeup and a dress (Shouto’s favorite dress on you), and take a secret pride in the way Todoroki’s eyes linger on you for an extra moment before the pair of you are walking out of the door and down the stairs of your apartment building. You don’t ask what he had been doing while you were getting ready, too busy living inside the excitement of your mind to even consider any possibility of what Todoroki’s mid-morning, post-breakfast plans may be. 

You get an answer to that just half an hour later, when you emerge from the subway doors that open up onto a marble platform, built with an overhead balcony and some white benches along the platform. The train tracks that mark the train’s opposing direction are right across as the doors open. But as you turn right and make your way down the marble flooring, it opens up into a wide-open, starting with the greenest grass you’ve ever seen extending far behind the horizon that touches your eyes. 

Your gaze widens as your hands rest upon the railing separating the train platform from the park. “Shouto!” you cry out, looking over your shoulder to face him as you start jumping slightly on the balls of your feet. As your eyes land on Todoroki, he’s watching you with the softest smile possible. “This is so pretty!” 

“You think so?” he asks, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. The openly affectionate nature of Todoroki’s touch makes you smile. “That’s good to hear.” 

As soon as he lets go of you, you whirl around to look at him, finally noticing the abnormally large bag he’s got slung around his shoulder. You reach forward, fidgeting slightly with the strap. “What’s this?” you ask, the smile still present in your voice. 

Todoroki shrugs, a bashful smile itching itself across his face. “I may or may not have made you lunch while you were in the shower. That’s why we’re here—to walk around the park and then have a picnic.” 

You can’t get over how fast your heart is racing, the thoughtfulness of your boyfriend’s actions, all because he wants to give you a more memorable first anniversary celebration. 

The smile so obviously spills past your lips, because Todoroki’s smile widens. 

“This is so sweet, Shouto,” you whisper, leaning over to sneak a kiss. He notices you coming from a mile away, of course he does, because he returns your kiss softly. You pull away first, still grinning with your gaze fixated on his mouth. “I’m excited to go exploring.” 

He reaches over and laces your fingers together. “Then let’s go.” 

The pair of you head for the marble staircase, taking you down onto a concrete pathway that winds up into trees and lakes ahead. On either side of the pathway is grass that seems to melt underneath the shape of your shoes. The trees range from single trunk growth into multi clustered trunks that each taper out into its own collection of leaves and branches. 

The breeze of today’s spring weather ruffles through the trees, through clothes and hair strands. Keeping your hands joined together, you allow Todoroki to lead the way through the park. He mentions something about some sights he wants you to see, and you entrust that it’ll add to the experience. 

A little up the pathway holds an open air flower garden, surrounded by broken down brick walls and flower vines that creep along the surface. Along the different pathway holds different flowers held in pots or ones planted into the ground. The pathways lead you either to wide-open spaces of grass or down more secluded hallways surrounded by brick and vinery. It is a world unlike anything you have ever experienced in person before, always watching through the lens of an animated feature film—it is a place that feels so hidden and untouched from the real world that it feels like you’ve been whisked off to a magical dream. 

It is a place you weave in and out of with Todoroki linked under your arm as you point out the various flowers that are covering walls, tucked into pots, or interwoven with other flowers of various shapes and heights. He doesn’t say much throughout the journey, occasionally nodding or making comments about how certain flowers would look pretty in your own apartment building. 

“Shouto, I’m pretty sure you bought me enough dahlia’s that I can’t fit anymore flowers in my living room,” you tease, giggling when you notice the slight pink that dusts along Todoroki’s cheeks, a color that only darkens when you brush your lips against his skin. 

Once the pair of you make your way through the entire flower garden, Todoroki suggests that it’s time to settle down and find a spot for lunch. You leave the garden, continuing down the sidewalk path, passing through various other families enjoying a picnic or pet owners taking their pets out for an afternoon walk. 

Eventually, Todoroki finds a spot hidden underneath the sun ripples that break through the leaves above, shadows that curl around and about in time to the breeze of the wind around. With your help, he produces the picnic blanket folded within his bag. With the flick of his wrist, a plaid pattern of white and yellow unfurls out onto the grassy ground. 

Immediately, you plop yourself down onto the blanket to prevent it from flying away. Todoroki joins you quickly enough, pulling the strap of his bag off his shoulder and into an empty corner of the blanket. “Are you hungry?” he asks, reaching over to unzip the bag before he starts fishing out two Studio Ghibli themed bento containers that you own. 

You blink, face breaking out into a grin. “Shouto, these are so cute!” 

“Oh, you say that now,” he starts immediately, laying out the boxes carefully in front of you. “But wait until you see how it actually looks. Bakugo’s instructions could only help me so much.”

You brush off his worries with the shake of your head. “I’m sure it looks awesome.” 

Despite Todoroki’s prolonged worries, he still allows you to uncap the bento boxes. Inside are your favorite foods categorized into their different boxes. There are rice rolls shaped into bears, those famous octopus sausages you’ve seen in animes and some vegetables. You don’t realize how widely you’re grinning at what lays out before you until you realize your cheeks are starting to ache. 

“Shouto,” you whine, looking over at him just as he looks up. “These are so cute. I love it so, so much. Thank you.” 

His gaze lingers on your face before he leans forward, nudging his forehead against yours. “You’re welcome.” 

By the time the pair of you return back to your apartment, the orange is starting to curl into the sky yet your head is still in the clouds. Todoroki helps you shuffle through the field of dahlias’ that still overrun your living room—placing them in various shady and sunny areas around your apartment. Once there’s a clear path from your front door, to the hallway, and to the couch, the pair of you agree to stop trying to organize the dahlias’. 

“Do you want some tea?” you ask, making your way towards the kitchen and opening up your cabinet to shift through some bags of tea you own. 

“Sure,” he returns, following you into the kitchen and grabbing two mugs from another shelf on the other side. He crosses over to reach you, placing the two mugs on the counter next to you before wrapping his arms around your waist. Gingerly, he rests his chin on your shoulder. 

After a few minutes of silence, a loud pounding sounds from the front door. The suddenness of the sound makes you jump, but Todoroki seems to expect it because he just turns toward the noise. One of his thumbs rubs soothingly at the exposed skin at your waist. “Who the fuck is that?” you ask. 

“Want to come see?” Todoroki offers cheekily, leading you to the front door. He opens it, only to find that there is no one on the other side—rather, there are two bags on the floor. The first one appears to be from a clothing shop with a brand logo on the side, while the second one looks to be a rather large take-out bag. Kneeling down, Todoroki grabs the bags and brings them inside. He hands the bag of clothes to you. “This is for us.” 

Frowning, you take the bag and peer inside. After rummaging briefly through the crisp curl of tissue paper, you discover two pajama sets inside that feel like it was crafted from the softest fabric imaginable. Like it was made from a cloud, or something crazy like that. Did he really… have more things planned for you? 

You look over at Todoroki again. “Shouto, what is this for?” you ask. 

He fishes through the take-out bag and produces a pizza box. “A new and improved movie night,” he explains, placing the bag down and opening the box to display a heart shaped pizza. On the other side of the cardboard is a post-it note. YOU’RE LUCKY I LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND, the note rests in big, aggressive handwriting. “I asked Bakugo to get me these things,” he explains hastily, as if you wouldn’t be able to tell from the note. “I was thinking we could wrap the night up with a pillow fort and cuddling.” 

You blink once, twice, before you try for a smile. But it doesn’t reach your eyes, and Todoroki can tell. 

He frowns in concern as he closes the pizza box and gathers you up in his arms. “Hey, what’s wrong? Do you not like it?”

You shake your head. “That’s not it,” you reassure, reaching over to grip the lapels of his jacket. “Shouto, this was all so sweet. And I loved getting the flowers and having a picnic with you, but I don’t need fancy pajamas and flower bouquets—it makes me feel bad having you spend so much money for me. Just being with you has been more than enough.” 

Todoroki tilts his head. “But you’re very important to me,” he says, talking as if he’s discussing the weather. “Why would I not want to do these things for you? You’ve never been in a relationship before—I just want to do what I can to make sure that today is memorable for you. I know I didn’t need to spend money, but I did because I wanted to, because I love you more than anything. Is that okay?” 

You press your lips together to hide the oncoming smile that threatens to overtake your features. “You’re too good to me,” you finally relent, sneaking a glance over at Todoroki. “I love you too, by the way.” 

He smiles. “Good,” he says, pinching your chin between his fingers and leaning over to kiss you. It’s a gesture that deepens quickly between the two of you, as your fingers grip the edge of his t-shirt while his own start to fiddle with the buttons of your blouse. 

The movie night can wait. 

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #todorokix reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki imagine #todoroki fluff #todoroki shouto fluff #todoroki shoto fluff #mha fluff #bhna fluff #traci writes for mha

[cupofmiko]

TEST DRIVE — todoroki shouto x f!reader

as a recently employed delivery driver for one of the best soba restaurants in the city, you expect to learn a lot of things on the job. one thing you don't expect to learn about, however, is shouto todoroki's cooking skills. or, complete lack thereof.

genre: strangers to lovers au, pro hero!shouto, delivery girl!yn | fluff 

warnings: aged up characters, bakusquad owns a soba restaurant & dekuosquad are pro heroes, the restaurant mentioned is named after a real life soba backstreet restaurant in shibuya called fukudaya!!!, one (1) display of vulgar language, slow burn, mentions of insecurity 

word count: 13.1k 

a/n: i have a headcanon that shouto is hopeless in the kitchen. inspired by the prompt “i’m flirting with you”

The first time it happens, there is smoke underneath the doorway and you have half the mind to call one-one-nine instead of knocking on the door. But alas, the weight of the plastic bag weighs down your consciousness, serving as a reminder that you are still getting paid to do your job. You almost do abandon your post to ring up emergency services, but the thought of restaurant founder and head chef Katsuki Bakugo using you as target practice because you didn’t do your job serves as a lingering warning in your mind. 

With the reassurance that you could always dial one-one-nine after fulfilling order #190 of the day, you knock on the apartment door, testing the waters with a gentle call against the wood. “Um, hello? I’m from Bakudaya Soba House, here with your delivery?” You glance down at the smoke still seeping under the doorway. “It seems like there’s a fire in your apartment—do you need me to call someone?” 

As if on cue, a smoke alarm starts going off inside the room. You jump at the sound, pressing your palm against the door, the open straps of your helmet swinging within your peripheral vision. Shit, maybe you should have called first, Bakugo’s order be damned. 

Before you can make the move to save the day, the door flings open to reveal a haphazard looking man—your age and looking so vaguely familiar that your gaze lingers. The cloud of smoke isn’t as bad as you had assumed, although it seems to be densely concentrated in one area of the apartment. The shrieking from the smoke alarm increases in volume and aggression, serving as a constant reminder to your situation. 

However, you aren’t able to figure out the boy, the situation, nor the source of the smoke, because he cuts in through your thoughts with one haste word. “Here,” he says, shoving a few wads of bills into your hands, grabbing the bag, and shutting the door in your face. 

This leaves you standing in the hallway, staring wide-eyed at the closed-door. The past two seconds could have been passed off as a dream—and you would have thought so, had the bag of food not been removed from your hands and replaced with cash. 

For a moment, you just stand there, continuing to stare at this door that holds the shrieks of smoke and a frantic boy behind it. You wonder if you should stay and see if any type of emergency response team shows up, but another part of you, the part of you with the moped of deliveries parked outside this very apartment building, decides against it. You linger for just a few seconds, scoping out any potential for noises, but make your way to the elevator when there are none. 

You note the lack of firefighters outside the building, and the general calmness of the neighborhood despite the shit show of chaos you’ve just witnessed a few seconds ago. No one pays you any attention as you swing your leg atop the moped, rebuckling the helmet underneath your chin, before settling yourself into the seat. You steal one last glance at the apartment building, trying to see if you can pinpoint where that strange boy lives, before setting off when you realize you cannot. 

The rest of the deliveries you make that night are calmer, nothing of significance but the usual small customer interactions, thanks, and exchange of payment for goods, all with people of much more peaceful dispositions. This allows you more energy and brain space to think about the strange boy from order #190. 

It’s an encounter that you reflect on later in the evening upon returning back to Bakudaya Soba House, where Eijiro Kirishima is loading up boxes of produce for tomorrow, to which the boy laughs heartily. 

“Holy shit,” Kirishima manages in between his laughter. “That really seems like the perfect display of the ‘I’m fine’ meme. You know, the one with the dog?” 

You laugh in return. “That’s true! I really wonder what he was doing to cause all that smoke though.” 

Kirishima shrugs. “Maybe he burned food on a date, so you were his backup plan?” he asks. 

You ponder this for a moment. “No, it was just one order of soba,” you explain, remembering his order details very clearly. 

At that, he raises an eyebrow. “Already keeping close tabs, are we?” 

“Hey, I’m sure you would also remember a delivery if smoke was pouring out from underneath the door,” you retort, tiptoeing the reach another box to pass over to Kirishima, who takes it with ease. 

Kirishima ponders this for a moment. “Actually, yeah, I definitely would,” he returns, finally situating the last box in the storage room. He claps his hands, rubbing them together to ease his muscles. “At least you never have to see him again!” he remarks cheerfully as the pair of you enter the locker-room to clock out for the day. “Idiots like him usually only fuck up the one time, and then they get too embarrassed to order from the restaurant again. You should be in the clear.” 

You shrug. “I guess we’ll wait and see on that.” 

The assurance that you would never have to think about the strange boy from order #190 only lasts 24 hours, because the following day you clock into work to take over the delivery shift from Denki Kaminari to find his address on one of the order forms. 

“Oh shit!” you exclaim upon seeing the familiar address—how could you forget? 

Kaminari looks over. “What’s up?” 

You point at the address on the order form. “I went to this guy’s apartment yesterday and his unit was on fire. Smoke was coming out of the door and everything. But when I went to knock and ask if he needed help, he just opened the door, traded the food for money and then shut the door in my face,” you explain. “All in a matter of just a few seconds, it was very weird.” 

Kaminari looks vaguely troubled by the story. “Was it smoke from a fire?” 

You shrug, wide-eyed. “I have no idea.” 

He thinks about it for a second longer. “Well, it seems like it wasn’t. Otherwise, his apartment would have burned down and he wouldn’t have been able to place the order.” 

You cough, trying to hide your snort from how crude Kaminari’s words had been. “That’s an unique way of saying it. Anyways, I should get going.” 

You arrange all the orders you have to make atop your moped before settling yourself atop the bike. You buckle on your helmet, wave to Kaminari, before making your way down the streets of the city. Navigating through the various bumps and bends of the district make you feel at ease, as does the swinging of the wind through your hair and your clothing. Allowing your mind to drift off makes the delivery process much easier. It allows you to go through orders with ease, exchanging soba noodles for money. 

Finally, you reach the building that you’ve been half-awaiting, half-dreading for your entire ride. The apartment of the boy with order #190. Well, today, it’s the boy with order #86, but it doesn’t ease off your curiosity about the encounter. Although there’s a high chance he wouldn’t even recognize you, since the aforementioned encounter had been so short,  you still wonder if today’s delivery will just be a rehash of yesterday. 

You make your way into the building and up the elevator, a small series of events that perfectly reflect that had happened the previous day. You almost hold your breath as you turn the corner that’ll take you right to the apartment door. 

You breathe a sigh of relief when you don’t see any smoke creeping underneath the door. 

Mentally preparing yourself for an actual normal interaction with the strange boy of order #190 and order #86, you head straight for the door number. Taking in a breath, you knock on the door. “Hello?” you exclaim. “Delivery from Bakudaya Soba House!” You pause for a moment, shifting on your weight, half expecting the door to open and close with the same haste as last time. 

You hear the footsteps on the other side, you hear the door pull open. 

But it’s a slower move today, and the clearer light within the space of the apartment allows you for a clearer view of who is on the other side. 

At once, it hits you why he had looked familiar yesterday. Of course! You’ve seen his face on TV, on the news articles, on the streets when he’s protecting the city from villains. It’s Shouto Todoroki—the number two pro hero in the country, with his two-toned hair and two-toned eyes piercing straight through you. You blink, surprised that you would even be allowed to deliver something like soba noodles to a celebrity’s apartment building, but you try to mask that shock with professionalism. You’re here now, the most you can do is not act like a creep by openly staring at the hero in front of you. 

You force your gaze down onto the bag of take-out in your hands. You take in a breath. You can do this. “Hi there!” you exclaim, looking back up and trying to engage in eye-contact while not simultaneously combusting. Now that Todoroki is in front of you, the proximity allows you a better look at a lot of his features. He’s cute. Of course he is. The media has always been a heavy enforcer of this belief—and plus, the only reason you’re able to see news of Todoroki in the first place is because of the media. Whether it’s gushing about his draping hair, his heterochromia eyes, his tall form, or his build, it seems like there is a never-ending conversation about his appearance. Besides, you also have eyes. He’s cute. 

But he also carries an air of intimidation in his quietness, in the way he regards you cooly. “Hello,” he replies, voice deep. “Bakudaya Soba House?” he asks, referring to your intention for showing up. 

You nod quickly, as if the speed of your gesture will prove that you aren’t actually a stalker. “Y-Yes,” you manage, holding up the order. “A cold soba order with dipping sauce, correct?” 

Todoroki stares at the bag you’re holding up, before leveling his gaze onto you. It’s a stare much more intense than through a screen, so you feel yourself freeze up upon realization. From his stare, it almost feels like he’s sizing you up, trying to figure out if you got crazy in your eyes, if you’re using the soba order as a facade. 

At his silence, you shift in your stance. “Order #86?” you squeak out. “You should have received a delivery confirmation after ordering online?” 

As soon as you confirm his order, Todoroki seems to relent. Just enough, however, because he still elects to use short responses. Having a vague familiarity of his language patterns through watching his interviews, however, you expect this. “That’s right,” he replies, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. “1200 yen, correct?” 

You nod, before realizing that he isn’t looking at you. “That’s correct,” you return. As he starts shifting through to confirm the correct amount in his hands, you cannot help yourself. Your mouth speaks before your mind can catch up, as that secret part of you that dreads awkward silences reacts. “Is your apartment okay?” you blurt out. 

The question catches Todoroki off guard, because he actually looks over at you with an expression beyond indifference. “What do you mean?” he asks. 

You flush, thoughts scrambling slightly. “W-Well, it’s just that I came by yesterday to deliver your soba and saw smoke coming out of your apartment…” 

Todoroki averts his gaze, the first case of meekness seeking into his expression, so different from his straightforward, hero persona that you cannot help but stare. “Oh, the apartment is fine,” he returns vaguely. 

You decide not to press the question. He’s probably uncomfortable discussing personal information to a stranger. Not just any stranger, though, someone who could leak information about him to the public. You assume that he even answered your question, as vague as he had, because you knew about the smoke in the first place. 

So you nod slowly. “That’s good,” you manage, passing over the bag of food when Todoroki gives you the money. “Well, have a nice night!” you exclaim, already stepping away to turn back the way you came. “Enjoy the food.” 

Todoroki stares at you for a moment longer. “Thank you,” he returns, already stepping back into his apartment to close the door. 

You walk back to the elevator, pressing on the down button as you wait for the cart to arrive on your floor. You decide that Shouto Todoroki is no longer the strange boy of order #190 and order #86, and that he definitely has some layers beneath that stoic silence he carries. But as you step onto your moped and strap the helmet underneath your chin, you decide that it’s something no one else will know about. 

Surprise would be an understatement when you clock into a work a few days later and see Todoroki’s order and corresponding address on the delivery list. Quite honestly, you had thought your intrusive question and even more intrusive (and lingering) gaze would have scared him off. 

It must have taken him back slightly, but not enough to keep him away from the best soba noodles in the city (words taken from a review article, not yours, although you would agree). 

You stare down at the address, mind whirling. You had seen Todoroki on the news earlier today, fighting off a whole herd of villains near the bank district, alone until his fellow pro heroes could come give the necessary backup and first aid. It was said that Todoroki had to balance several different hero requirements during the time he was alone, which had to be a stressful situation for him. He didn’t participate in any post-interview following the capture of the villains, but you had seen some footage. He looked tired. 

You sigh to yourself as you check the various orders, making sure that everything on the receipt is accounted for in the boxes. Todoroki’s save in the bank district had ensured you would be able to arrive to work safely, and had ensured that none of the subway lines would get held up or destroyed. If only there was some way to thank him, without having to embarrass yourself by opening your big dumb mouth. 

As soon as you reach Todoroki’s order, a realization dawns on you. There is a way for you to thank him, to try and make his night a little bit better by not having to do anything at all. 

You could add some extra sides to his order! Nothing too serious, of course, perhaps just some just a few fresh tempuras’ to show your thanks and appreciation for what he did without having to say anything at all. 

With a determined huff, you make your way into the kitchen, where head chef Katsuki Bakugo is preparing some noodles in the boiling pot of water. He sees you lingering, and barks. “What do you want?” 

“Can I take some tempura?” You ask, a smile present on your face. “Just a shrimp and a pumpkin one. I’m gonna add it to a customer’s order.” 

Bakugo glares at you. “Did they pay for it?” 

You shrug. “In a way.” 

He tsks. “With money?” 

“I’ll cover it,” you retort, gesturing to the locker room where your bag, and wallet, is safely stored away. “Or take it out of my tips, or something.” 

The pair of you have a staring contest, although Bakugo definitely sees it more as a glaring contest, before he scoffs and looks away. He’d never admit it, but he’s soft on you—he probably still sees you as the new girl he had to teach how to ride the delivery motorcycle. “You better cover it,” he insists, but it’s half-hearted. “And don’t bother me with that shit again.” 

His refocused attention back in the kitchen tells you that your time with him is over. But you’re still grinning as you pick up some chopsticks, stack exactly one shrimp and one pumpkin tempura into a take-out box, and step back at the table of orders that need to be delivered. You safely wrap up Todoroki’s tempuras into the bag before finally preparing all the orders on the moped. 

One wave at Kirishima through the window before you’re off. 

You reach Shouto Todoroki’s apartment towards the tail-end of your delivery, and there’s a little bit of a skip in your step as you make your way to the elevator. By now, as shameful as it is to admit, you have a little bit of the directions to Todoroki’s apartment engraved in your mind. You step out of the elevator, make a right, make another left, and his apartment is the sixth door on the left. 

You may not be a creepy fangirl but you were dangerously toeing the line. 

There’s a little bit of a fidget in your movements as you steel yourself to knock on the door—because you can do this. Just like the other day, you’re going to deliver Todoroki his take-out and be on your way. He won’t feel the extra weight of the tempura in the bag, there’s no way he was going to ask you about it and put you on the spot. Right? 

Well, Todoroki is very perceptive. He’s not the number two hero for nothing, but perhaps that type of steely observation wouldn’t apply to take-out soba. 

As soon as you mentally prepare some sort of excuse if Todoroki were to find the tempura under your watch, you knock on the door. You clear your throat. “Hello, delivery from Bakudaya Soba House!” 

The door opens much quicker than it did the second time, where Todoroki is standing in the door frame. He looks a little more alive, a little more observant, and a little more approachable. Today, he’s not looking at you like he’s waiting for the Todoroki pictures to fall out of your helmet. He actually looks, dare you say, pleasant. 

“Hi again,” he greets. “1200 yen?” 

You glance down at the bag. “Yes!” you exclaim, confirming the total. “Cold soba with dipping sauce, as usual.” 

The corner of Todoroki’s lips actually curl up at that, and you realize vaguely that you’ve just admitted to knowing his order by memory. You stare down at the ground, trying to burn holes into the wood or hope that the ground will just swallow you whole. 

Of course, the universe would never grant you such a request. 

“Have you been a delivery girl long?” Todoroki asks as he’s digging around for his money to pay you. “I can’t seem to recall the other times you made deliveries.” 

You blink at him. Was Todoroki actually making conversation with you? You cover up your shock by looking away, glad that his attention is focused on the money and not your face. “That’s because I’m new,” you explain instead. “I started a few weeks ago.” 

“How are you enjoying it so far?”  

Oh, you realize. He’s maintaining the conversation. He must be a little more relaxed now that he’s ensured you aren’t a total psycho—since you don’t appear to have sold out any of his personal information.  

“It’s alright,” you supply slowly. “I actually didn’t know how to ride the moped when I was hired, so my boss had to teach me. It was, ah, a very frustrating experience to say the least. But—!” you cut in, lifting up a finger and grinning from ear-to-ear. “I managed to figure it out, and while the delivery portion is fine, I really love getting to drive around the city. I usually take the subway to get around, but getting on that moped and navigating through the roads and feeling the wind everywhere—!” you stop. You stop short with embarrassment, realizing that you’ve accidentally just started nerding out in front of Shouto Todoroki about the fucking wind. The boy is a pro hero who can make ice from his body and use that ice to transport. He probably feels the wind on a daily basis. “S-Sorry,” you manage, glancing away as you try for a shy smile. “I don’t really get out much, as you can probably tell.” 

Todoroki shakes his head, and you think you can make out the traces of amusement in his eyes. “It’s okay,” he returns. “I know what you mean about the wind.” He finally pulls out the appropriate amount of money, handing it over to you. 

You take it, not even bothering to count, before handing him the bag of take-out. “R-Right,” you manage to get out. 

Todoroki is still staring at you—not in a way that implies he’s waiting for you to continue the conversation, but more so in just an intense observational way, like he’s studying your face carefully. You’re not sure which one is embarrassing-inducing. 

“Well,” Todoroki says, making his way back into his apartment, traces of a smile present across his lips. “Until next time…?” he trails off, giving you a look. 

You feel yourself heat up at his words, and the way he implies there will most definitely be a next time. The question in his eyes prompts you to speak up, relaying your name to him. You think that his smile grows, but the door closes before you can linger. There is a pounding in your chest—which, in your case, is never a good sign. 

It isn’t until you’re back at the restaurant do you look over the payments you’ve received during your delivery, stopping short when you realize you have more money than you should have gotten. More than that, the extra money comes from Todoroki. With a sigh, you pocket the money, set on delivering more than soba the next time you have to see him. 

Which, in his words, won’t be long.

It isn’t long at all. Two days, to be exact. 

Bakugo grunts when he sees you in the kitchen again, probably knowing why exactly you are here but deciding to question you about it regardless. “What the fuck are you doing in here again?” he retorts from behind the boiling stoves of soup and noodles. 

You wave your chopsticks at him, causing his glare to harden. 

“Who are you trying to impress with free tempura, huh?” Bakugo snaps. 

You whirl around. “What makes you think I’m trying to impress someone?” 

He pauses for a moment, leveling you with the kind of look that implies he knows something you don’t. “Who’s the dude?” he asks. 

You flinch. “T-There’s no dude!” you stammer. 

Bakugo scoffs. “Sure, real believable.” 

“R-Really, there isn’t,” you exclaim. “I’m just giving the tempura to thank this person.” 

“Thank what exactly?” he seethes. “Their good looks and the fact you wanna suck his dick or something?” 

You gap, cheeks heating up because the thought of sucking Todoroki’s dick makes you—! You close your eyes, refusing to picture it. “Bakugo!” 

He points the knife at you. “Don’t be stupid, okay? Just use your fucking words like a normal person, and don’t hide behind free food. That’s gonna come straight out of your paycheck.” 

You had received last week’s paycheck just a few days ago, where he had so clearly not taken money out to cover for the tempura. But, you decide not to speak on it. You just pick your one shrimp and one pumpkin tempura out, place it into the take-out box, and leave with a partly amused but mostly modified look across your face. Not even for the paycheck thing, or Bakugo’s strange but fatherly advice. 

You mount your bike with the deliveries, and make your way off into the city. The maps app on your phone helps weave you to each destination, which is good because you feel your mind trailing off more than usual. Your mind only seems to catch up to your destination when you arrive at the familiar apartment building—and not just because you’ve been here four times in the past week and a half. 

“I’m really not trying to impress anyone,” you hiss underneath your breath as you grab Todoroki’s order and make your way up the usual elevator and the usual pathway to reach the usual door.

You knock, and Todoroki opens immediately, making you jump in surprise. You didn’t even get to say your usual statement about Bakudaya Soba House in between the time you knocked and the time Todoroki opened the door. 

“H-Hi there,” you try, holding up the bag. “Delivery!” 

Todoroki stares hard at the bag in your hands, like he can see right through it. “Come inside for a second, will you?” he asks, opening the door wider and stepping back. 

His request takes you completely by surprise. He wants you to enter his apartment? Willingly? 

“U-Uh,” you stammer. You’re not exactly the most well-versed in the rules of the relationship between the delivery girl and the customer, but you’re pretty sure that entering the house of a customer is off limits. At least, that’s what you would suspect. “Are you sure?” 

“Positive,” he replies, reaching out to gently take your wrist when he realizes that you aren’t going to move. Really, your feet feel as if they’ve been tied down to the floor because Shouto Todoroki inviting you into his apartment? Is he for real? 

He drags you into his apartment and closes the door behind him. You’re immediately greeted by a long hallway, where warm light seems to flood in from the room at the end of the hall. Todoroki gestures for you to remove your shoes at the entrance, which you somehow manage to do with your feet digging into the back heel of your sneakers in order to pull out each foot. As soon as it’s done, Todoroki only continues to drag you deeper into his apartment. Down the hallway, it opens up into an open-concept living room that highlights a central seating area. The windows go from floor to ceiling, highlighting the lights of the city. A few scattered white-potted plants lay about along the edges of the room. 

The transition from the living room to the kitchen is accomplished by a bar-like counter, wooden stools pressed underneath the counter, a seated surface that Todoroki makes you sit on as he rounds the bar to stand on the kitchen side of his apartment. “Let me see the order,” he says, gesturing to the bar still firmly clenched in your hands. 

You bring the bag up onto the counter, confusion flooding your system. What on earth was he doing, inviting you into his space like this and forcing you to violate what had to be dozens of delivery-code ethics. 

You’re about to ask him such before he unties the bag, and a sudden realization hits you on what he could be looking for. You open your mouth to say something (what, you’re not too sure), but Todoroki beats you to it. 

He opens the take-out box that houses the new set of tempuras you’ve given him. Busted. 

You stare down at the tempuras, your mind whirling on how to justify this to him. Today, you don’t really have as solid of a reason to give him free tempura as you had the other day—but you just really wanted to do something nice for him again. Definitely not as a means to impress him, so shut up Bakugo. 

Your fingers flinch, as if to grab the tempuras and make a run for it out of the apartment, but Todoroki doesn’t say anything to highlight the newest addition to his order. Instead, he merely reaches into his pocket, fumbles with his money, and hands you some yen. You take it, about to leave it at that, before you remember the extra money from your last visit. 

You look down to count the money, realizing that he’s given you extra again. “Todoroki,” you start in a breath. “You gave me more again. I can’t accept this.” 

Something flickers in his eyes. “Again?” he echos. 

You press the money into the table. “Don’t play dumb,” you retort, shifting in your seat to produce the extra money he’d given you last time. “Trying to give me more money, and for what?” you ask, waving it in the air. “It’s not necessary to tip me.” 

“Oh, is that so?” Todoroki asks. “Because I don’t recall adding tempura into my order, so it was a bit of a shock to find it last time you came by. And this time too.” He gestures to the tempura on the table. “It seems like I’m just covering the cost of it.” 

You place the extra money on the table. “Todoroki, like I said, it’s not necessary to cover the cost of anything. I gave you the tempuras because I wanted to.” 

Todoroki settles his gaze on you for a long moment, as if trying to gauge the real reason for your generosity. When he seems to realize that you’re being truthful, he relents. Only slightly, though, because he does not touch the money. “In that case, I’m giving you the money because I want to.” 

Your lips part at his boldness. “No,” you refuse, shaking your head. “Giving away tempuras and giving away money are two completely different things!” 

He tilts his head. “Who’s paying for the tempuras, then?” 

“Me!” you exclaim. “Well, it’ll come out of my paycheck. So my boss claims, anyways…” 

Todoroki does hold the money this time, but only to drag it across the countertop towards you. “Well then, add this money back into your paycheck.” 

You give him a look. “Todoroki.” 

He returns your look, saying your name in the same exasperated tone you had given him. 

You refuse to back down, despite how intense his gaze is. As a result of the close distance, you’re able to see just how pretty his eyes are—one blue and one silver that seem to pierce straight through you. Almost like he’s challenging you to relent. Despite his attractiveness, and despite the fact that looking at Todoroki makes you feel like you’re suddenly a middle schooler with a crush, you refuse. 

You swallow, trying to level yourself out. “I don’t want it,” you settle with, pushing the money back towards him. 

Todoroki looks down, his silence a conveyance that he’s thinking about something. “Alright,” he finally relents. “I’ll keep the money.” He picks up his phone and clicks through a few things on his screen. “But I’ll just place an order of dinner combination soba for you then.” 

You straighten up in your seat, jolting forward as if to try and grab for his phone. You stop yourself though by pressing your fingers into the edge of his countertop. “Wait!” you exclaim. “Todoroki, don’t!” 

He lowers his phone. “How else do I repay you for the tempuras?” 

You scoff. “Just be appreciative! I did it because I wanted to, so you don’t need to do anything to repay me back or anything.” 

“Well then,” Todoroki continues, carrying on in the tone that implies he can keep this going for hours—and you still have a few more deliveries to make. “I’m giving you the extra money because I want to.” His hands cover the bills, sliding it back over to you. “So you can either take the money now, or accept a soba dinner combination. I can play this game all night but—!” He looks at you. “I’m not sure you can, delivery girl.” 

You puff your cheeks out. “Fine,” you finally relent, straightening up to grab the bills off the table. “Two can play at this game, Todoroki. But alas, I must be off before I have more screaming customers at my tail.” 

You turn and make your way through the living room and down the hallway, where Todoroki follows you out. “That sounds rough,” he says, leaning against the wall to watch you slip on your sneakers. “I apologize for keeping you here for so long.” 

You straighten up, laughing once you see that he actually does look vaguely guilty. “It’s alright.” You point at him. “Just accept the tempura next time! You’re a valuable customer, so I have to show my appreciation.” You open the door of the apartment. “Alright, I’ll see you next time.” 

You turn around and see that he’s smiling at you. “Next time,” he reassures. 

The next time you see Todoroki’s apartment on the delivery listing, it’s over the weekend and it’s more than just his normal soba order with dipping sauce. In fact, it’s four additional orders. Friends, perhaps? Other pro heroes? That would make since, given that it’s the weekend and a natural invitation to hang out with peers. 

So you finalize the order accordingly, packing everything together into a bag and loading it into the moped. Like every other night, you take to the streets. 

Todoroki’s order is the last of your current round of deliveries, and the increase of orders forces you to walk a little slower to make sure that nothing spills on top of each other. Carefully, you go down the hall, and knock on the apartment door. 

Todoroki doesn’t answer immediately, prompting you to spill out your delivery girl professionalism. “Hello!” you exclaim, from the other side of the door. “Deliver from Bakudaya Soba House!” 

It’s a few more minutes before the door opens, and it’s not Todoroki like you had been expecting. Instead, it’s someone else entirely, but someone still just as sharply familiar to you. 

Your eyes widen. It’s Ochako Uraraka, otherwise known as Uravity, fellow pro hero, and practically glimmering in the warmth of Todoroki’s apartment lighting. Her brown hair looks almost like a halo, and you can’t tear your eyes away. 

“H-Hello,” you manage again. “T-Thanks for waiting, I have your delivery right here.” 

Uraraka doesn’t seem to notice your starstruck appearance. Instead, she brightens at the sight of the food. “Awesome!” she exclaims, taking the bag from you and holding out a wad of money for you to take. “Here you go! This should be the correct amount, right?” 

Slowly, you reach over to take the money, as you count through it, there’s a few questions weighing in on your mind. Mainly all regarding Todoroki—but not because you were hoping to see him or anything crazy like that. 

You’re just about to finish counting and confirm that Uraraka has indeed given you the right amount of money, she gasps. “Oh wait!” she exclaims, studying you carefully as you jump up in surprise. “Are you Shouto’s delivery girl?” 

Shouto’s delivery girl?

The intimacy of the nickname makes your face catch on fire. You stammer at once, your fingers finding its way into your hair to awkwardly comb through the strands as you try to figure out how to respond. “Uh…” you manage, laughing awkwardly. “I-I wouldn’t say his delivery girl. Not to say that I’m not a delivery girl, because I am, but not his specifically or anything…” You trail off, completely mortified. Yes, Todoroki is attractive, sweet, and easy enough to get along with, but you never thought that’d equate to being considered his girl. 

Uraraka watches you mentally fall apart, before she starts laughing. “I just meant to ask if you were the one who always comes by to make his deliveries.” 

“Oh…” you trail off, pressing your lips together as you decide that the ground swallowing you up would be too nice of a punishment for you. Jumping out of the window would probably be a better choice. “I—!” 

Her giggles cut you off. “Actually,” she starts, opening the door a little wider for you. There’s an unreadable glint in her eyes, like she knows something you don’t. “Why don’t you come inside for a little bit? Unless you have other deliveries to make?” 

“Oh, no,” you say. “This was actually my final delivery of the round. If you’re sure about inviting me inside…” 

“Of course she’s sure,” Todoroki interrupts, stepping into your field of view and hyper focusing your attention right onto him. “I have to make sure you haven’t made any funny business in our order.” 

You pout at that. “When will you let that go?” 

Todoroki smiles softly at you. “Stay for a little,” he allows, motioning towards the wad of money in your hand. “We might have to add to that, depending on how the next few minutes go.” 

You gap at that. “You won’t.” 

“Try me,” he retorts back, but still gesturing for you to come inside with the jerk of his head. Technically, you don’t have to follow what he says. You’ve already made your delivery, and probably have more waiting back at the restaurant, but Todoroki has you so wrapped around his finger that you find yourself entering the property anyways. Not that you have much of a choice. Todoroki grabs your wrist to drag you into the apartment. 

Uraraka continues to watch the interaction carefully, carrying the take-out bag deeper into Todoroki’s apartment. As the three of you make your way down the hallway, you realize that it isn’t just Todoroki and Uraraka in the apartment—which makes sense given the larger amount of orders you’ve had to bring over, but it’s a different sensation to see a number compared to hearing the voices of conversation and laughter at the end of the hall. 

Uraraka goes on ahead to make the food present. “The food’s here everyone!” she exclaims cheerfully. “And Shouto brought in a guest.” 

As soon as you step into the living room, you want to melt into a puddle on the floor. Because three additional people around you are all pro heroes: Froppy, Ingenium, and Deku—all looking over at you and smiling warmly in greeting. The fact that you’re seeing all these heroes in the flesh, doing a fucking soba noodle delivery for them, creates such an out-of-body experience, that you cannot muster anything beyond a simple hello and bow. 

“You must be the delivery girl!” Tsuyu Asui exclaims brightly, bounding over to you. “Shouto has told us a lot about you.” There’s a tease laced into her words, one you pick up on and flush over immediately. 

“Oh yes, lots,” Tenya Iida joins in, flashing you a thumbs up. “I always knew that Bakudaya was a great soba noodle location, but was unaware of the fact they did deliveries! Shouto has definitely made us very aware of that fact. He was the one who suggested this location for dinner.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was grinning with something more than a good steal hidden in his eyes. 

Todoroki lingers by your side, your wrist still encased in his hand. He tightens his hold on you. “Ignore them,” he says.

You ignore the racing heartbeat in your chest, choosing instead to smile and bow in greeting to Todoroki’s friends. “It’s nice to meet all of you,” you greet. “Sadly though, I can’t stay long. I’m still on the clock.” 

Todoroki jolts at that, pulling you towards the kitchen counter. “We better get a look at the food then.” At his friends’ curious glances, he explains briefly how you had tried to sneak free tempura into his meal a few times. They all laugh softly at your flustered expression. 

Uraraka, ever the friendly hero her reputation exposes her as, tries to make conversation with you. “So,” she starts, saying your name to gather your attention. “Have you been a delivery girl long? We’ve only recently started to hear about your visits.” 

You nod. “I’ve actually only been one for about a month at this point.” You steal a glance at Todoroki, wondering if diving too deep or going off on your own tangent would be too much for his friends. You try for it anyways. “Actually, I bet the reason why the visits were so memorable was because when I first met Todoroki, there was smoke coming out of his apartment.” 

His friends stare at you for a few seconds in disbelief of the story, before they all burst out into laughter. 

“That isn’t surprising at all.” Asui points out, pressing a finger to her mouth. “Shouto can’t cook. That must have been the night he tried to cook soba on his own, and failed—he told us about it. I wonder if that was the last time he tried to make his own soba dish…?”  

You blink, quickly stealing a glance at Todoroki, who seems to be even more intensely looking through the take-out boxes. There’s a light pink hue across his cheeks at Asui’s observation. 

Asui’s observation leaves behind lots of interpretation for questions, but you tilt your head and ask the most pressing question in your mind. “You can’t cook?” you ask. 

Uraraka glances between you and Todoroki. She smiles softly, albeit also mischievously. “Ah,” she hums. “That’s why you keep making delivery orders from this specific restaurant, huh, Shouto?” 

You glance over at Uraraka. “That makes sense, Bakudaya is rated as one of the best restaurants in the city.” 

Todoroki turns to look at you, his eyes slightly wide, before he coughs out his embarrassment and goes back to going through the orders. You don’t miss the soft smile that presents itself across his lips. 

As you continue to watch him go through the orders, you notice the growing silence that has enveloped the group. You look down at your watch. “Well, Todoroki,” you say, gently patting his shoulder. “I better get going before my boss yells at me.” You glance down at the bag of take-out he’s still going through. He hasn’t reached the bottom where you have, of course, supplied five shrimp and pumpkin tempuras for him and his friends. “Enjoy your food.” 

You bow out some parting words to his friends, just having finished slipping on your shoes when Todoroki appears at the end of the hallway with the box of tempuras in his hand. 

You giggle, pulling open the door and waving goodbye. 

Todoroki looks slightly meek when he answers the door a few days later, just one order of soba and dipping sauce under your arm this time. 

“So your friends are really nice,” you say once the comfort of silence has settled over the pair of you. 

Todoroki sighs, looking embarrassed, and you can’t help but giggle at the sight. “They’re rowdy,” he supplies instead. “But we’ve been through a lot together, especially since we attended school together.” 

Your giggle softens into a smile. Todoroki hardly ever has allowed the disclosure of his past to you. Stepping into his apartment had been one thing, but introducing you to his friends had been such an emerging experience, and a surface view into his world. Given his quiet nature, you’re sure that he doesn’t do this very often. 

“It was sweet,” you continue. “They seem to know a lot about you. Which, actually I wanted to ask about.” 

He looks at you, holding the money in between his fingers. “You want to ask if me not being able to cook was true, right?” 

You press your lips together to hide your guilt. Gingerly, you take the money. “Well, since you brought it up first…” 

He averts his gaze, reaching up to gently pat at his hair. “I’m sure you’re familiar enough with my family history. There was never really a need to cook when I was growing up.”

You nod, deciding not to press it further. “Would you want to learn? How to cook soba, I mean.” 

He looks at you. “You would teach me?” 

“Sure,” you exclaim, pressing a palm against your chest. “Since I’ve actually watched the head chef of Bakudaya several times, I have a good idea of how he makes certain dishes. Yours is probably one of the easier ones, anyways.” You stare at him, watching his silence, and you stare to panic. You had been so excited, maybe too much so. “W-Well, only if you want to! I’m obviously not going to force you, that’s why you make deliveries, because you don’t want to cook!” 

“I want to,” Todoroki interrupts. 

You stop short, lowering your arms. “Huh?” 

“I want you to teach me,” he expands, still smiling. “It sounds fun—if your cooking is as good as your delivery services.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “I can’t tell if that’s supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing.”

Without a warning, he reaches out and presses his fingers against the strands of your hair at your neck. He takes a step closer to you, shooting you a smile. “Whatever you want to think. It’ll be fun regardless.” 

He steps away, closing the door behind him, and leaving you a mushed melting pot on the floor of his apartment building. This cannot be a good sign. 

The next time Shouto Todoroki’s apartment shows up on the delivery form, you feel your heart race and your lips pull at the prospect of seeing him again. 

Bakugo, of course, sees you. “Hey,” he calls out. “What are you smiling for?” 

Your smile slips off your face. “Nothing!” you retort. 

He tsks. “Thinking about that stupid boy again?” 

The mental image of Todoroki flashes through your mind. “H-He’s not stupid,” you manage to get out nervously. 

At that, Bakugo actually does turn to look at you. He raises an eyebrow, but you swear you can make out the curve of amusement on his lips. “How did you even know who I was fucking talking about?” 

Your mouth drops slightly at how he has been able to trick you so easily. “Ass,” you mutter underneath your breath, turning back to the company phone to scroll through the other orders you have to process. 

You feel Bakugo’s stare like weights on your shoulder, but you refuse to cave. 

Instead, you communicate passive aggressively but taking the ingredients needed to fulfill one order of cold soba with dipping sauce into an extra bag for your later lesson with Todoroki. Bakugo knows, of course he knows, but that doesn’t stop his sneer as he watches you pack up all the deliveries you have to make. 

“You know, there are other ways of impressing someone without having to rob your employer,” he bites out. “And is a boy really worth it if he can’t cook on his own?” 

You flush hotly at his accusation. “I’m just trying to help!” you whine. “I don’t need to think about whether a guy is worth it or not… that’s not where my mind is.” 

Bakugo stares at you from across the kitchen for a very long second, before he grumbles something about you being a ditzy piece of shit. Yet, he doesn’t press the issue anymore, allowing you to exit the shop and ride off. Much like the last few deliveries, you save Todoroki’s apartment for last.

When Todoroki opens the door, you are holding up two separate bags from Bakudaya Soba House. “Are you ready to become a chef today, Todoroki?” 

He smiles, letting you in. “So, how does this work?” he asks, reaching over for the bags you’re holding to carry them for you. “Which bag has the ingredients?” 

You navigate through his apartment with ease, following him into his small kitchen space. “This is what we’re gonna do,” you start, pointing at the two bags that Todoroki has now placed on the counter. “This is the order.” You point at the bag with the actual food in it. You look at Todoroki with a grin. “It’s for me.” 

Todoroki watches you in disbelief for a second, before his lips twist up into a smile of his own. “You just brought yourself dinner then,” he points out. 

You kiss your teeth. “Very right, I’m taking my dinner here with you because right here—!” You point to the second bag that holds the ingredients you had taken from right under Bakugo’s nose. “—is the ingredients! I’ll help you cook and then we can enjoy food together.” 

Todoroki keeps his gaze fixed on you. “Like a date,” he observes, watching you very closely. 

You, however, do not notice. You just laugh, beginning to lay out the ingredients for you to look over and gather a memory of the process in order to cook it. 

Soba with dipping sauce isn’t a complicated dish to make. It’s a statement you reflect on as you teach Todoroki how to properly cook noodles in boiling water, being sure to watch him extra closely after he reveals to you that the smoke coming out of his apartment had been from when he burned water. 

“Perhaps it was fate,” Todoroki comments lightly as he gingerly places the dry, uncooked soba noodles into the now boiling water. He looks at you. “Did I do that okay?” 

You glance over at him, heart jumping slightly when you realize how close his face is to you. You didn’t even mean to stand close to him, just right at his shoulder to make sure that he won’t pull off any more seemingly impossible cooking techniques. With his face so close to yours, you don’t mean to look down at his lips. But you do. How could someone possibly be so attractive? Up close, it was even more apparent. “Y-You’re doing fine,” you reassure softly, taking a step back. “But what about fate? You think the universe decided to give you a powerful quirk and good looks but less-than-good cooking skills?” you pause, thinking about this. “Actually, that makes a lot of sense.” 

He coughs at your comment. “Good looks, huh?” 

You look at him before you realize that you did, in fact, admit to his attractiveness. You exhale a smile, raising an arm up as if to wipe the moment from your memory. “I-I mean,” you stammer, mind reeling. Why did you have to open up your big dumb mouth and treat Todoroki like just a regular ole’pal? “A-According to the universe. Obviously.” 

He hums. “Is that so?” 

“Like I said, obviously,” you echo softly, watching him carefully, before you clap your hands together. “Okay, how about we move onto the dipping sauce while we wait?” 

Todoroki nods, but something in his eyes tells you that he’s not done with the conversation. It shows too, because he watches you carefully explain to him which ingredients to chop for the sauce before picking up the knife himself. 

“So what did you mean?” you find yourself asking, passing him some ginger to mince. “What exactly are you referring to when you talk about fate?” 

He keeps his eyes on the ginger. “Me burning the water to get your attention,” he answers smoothly.

Your eyes widen, completely taken aback by his statement. You had been expecting some kind of goofy confession—and although you write off his whole bit about trying to impress you as just an equally as teasing manner, his comment seems so unbelievable. 

You convey as such with a laugh. “I don’t see how that’s possible,” you retort gently. “When we first met, you didn’t give a shit about me.” You stop, pondering over your words and realizing how horrible it could be interpreted. “Ah!” you gasp, holding your hands up. “Not to say that you even had to care about me in general. After all, I was just a delivery girl.” 

Todoroki thinks about this for a moment. “That’s true,” he settles with, seeming vaguely disappointed. Over what though, you have no idea. “But now we’re friends.” 

You catch him looking at you and you grin. “We are!” 

“And since we’re friends, you can call me Shouto now. Just like how I can call you by your first name.” Todoroki continues to look at you for a moment, before he looks back down at his neatly minced ginger. “That is, if you’re comfortable with it.” 

You grin. “No, of course I’m comfortable with it, Shouto,” you say, extending the o in his first name. “We’re friends. It makes sense.” 

You and Todoroki dive into an easy silence as you give him some scallions to cut before cooking those minced ingredients into a mixture of dashi, soy sauce, and mirin. As you wait for the sauce to heat up, you strain the soba noodles into a bamboo strainer. The now heated dipping sauce is poured into a bowl and placed on a serving tray alongside the soba noodles. 

“Should we be fancy for once?” Todoroki asks, holding the tray as he gestures to the kitchen table he has in the neighboring space next to the kitchen. “And use an actual table?” 

You hum. “I like how you think.” You take the take-out bag you’ve brought with you from Bakudaya, bringing it with you to join Todoroki at his kitchen table. He lays out the chopsticks onto the tray of his now ‘homemade’ soba noodles, while you start unpackaging your own order of cold soba with dipping sauce. 

You fold your fingers atop one another as you watch Todoroki ready himself to begin eating. 

At his glance, you smile. “I won’t eat until you start—I want to know what you think. It is, after all, an authentically made meal made by us.” 

“Yes, everything was made by us,” he follows along, smiling at your antics. 

You grin. “We grew the ingredients and everything.” 

Todoroki actually laughs a little at that, a soft little noise that throws you off slightly, but makes your heart feel like it’s just grown several sizes too big. You watch him carefully as he gathers some soba noodles into his chopsticks, dips the noodles into the sauce, and feeds it into his mouth. He hums immediately. “Tastes pretty good.” 

You brighten. “I’m glad! No more burning water next time, you got it?” 

“I’ll try not to disappoint you,” he returns, the traces of his soft laughter still evident on his face. “Although,” he starts up after a moment. “Perhaps next time we can go to Bakudaya Soba House, just to experience sitting in rather than ordering out. I hear it’s even better with two people.” 

You laugh, dipping your own noodles into the sauce. “You’d only seriously consider that if you were flirting with me, and trying to ask me out.” 

Todoroki’s gaze is as unwavering as it had been when you first met him. But there’s a new underlying layer of softness this time. “What if I said I was trying to flirt with you?” 

You meet his gaze. “You’re funny, Shouto. I’m a quirkless delivery girl. You’re a number two hero. I don’t think you’d ever seriously try flirting with me. It’s cute though, that you ask at all.” 

The pair of you finish up the night in comfort, with you offering to watch the dishes and Todoroki gently turning you down—you’re still on the clock, after all. You don’t see the troubled look in his eyes, the way he follows you back to the door of his apartment, like he has something that he needs to say but cannot. 

Todoroki opens the door watching an apron, much to your surprise. Your wide-eyes and blink convey as much. “Shouto!” you exclaim. 

“Hello,” he greets back, looking thoroughly pleased by the casual nature you’re bringing through the usage of his first name. 

Your gaze flickers down to his apron, before you hold up the take-out order he has requested. “Did you not order a cold soba with dipping sauce?” 

He nods. “I did,” he exclaims, gesturing into his apartment. “Do you have ten minutes to spare?” 

Perhaps not. But you haven’t gotten any calls yet about customers complaining, so you figure that you do. Anything for Todoroki, though. You nod. “Sure,” you say, allowing yourself to be invited into his apartment. Much like the journey to his apartment door, the walk to his kitchen feels like second nature now, along with the way you situate yourself atop the stools that reside below his countertop. “What are you making?” you ask, taking in a vaguely familiar smell that flows through the air. 

Todoroki gestures to his stovetop, where he’s got soba noodles on ice and a pot filled with soy sauce. “I’m making dinner for you,” he explains. “Since only I got to try our masterpiece the other day, I figured that you should be able to try it this time. And I’ll eat the food from the delivery.” 

You’re momentarily stunned at his thoughtfulness—the fact that he thought of you long enough to actually put on an apron and boil some water for you feels like someone has just poured butterflies into you. Your whole body feels like it’s fluttering, and you have to press your lips together to hide the smile that threatens to spill over. “That sounds good,” you manage between your smile. 

It is hard to tell if Todoroki can read your body language. He probably can, if the slight smirk curling at his lips helps. 

True to his word, it only takes about ten minutes for you to finish the meal that Todoroki has prepared. It’s good, albeit the dipping sauce is a little too salty but you scarf the food down before your mind can catch up. Just as you’ve finished the last of the noodles, your phone goes off. “Oh shit!” you exclaim, straightening up, assuming that the call must be from a customer. “Ten minutes might have been too long—hello?” You slide the answer bar across your screen, bringing the device to your ear. True to your assumption, it is a customer asking about her order. “Oh! Yes miss, what time is said on your delivery?” You look at your watch as the woman on the phone answers the question. “Then yes, I’ll be there around that time.” You look at Todoroki, who nods in understanding of the situation. “I’m, ah, a little bit caught up in traffic at the moment,” you say, as Todoroki rounds the counter and grabs your wrist to help lead you out of his apartment. 

Todoroki gestures down to his entryway for your shoes, where he lets you lean on him in order to get your shoes slipped on. 

He opens the door for you as you continue to converse with the customer—something about how you can’t pull up her specific order number because of your previous claim to still being on the road—but it’s something that you lose focus on as you step out of the apartment. 

Todoroki’s fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. You turn around to face him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What are you doing?” you mouth at him, angling the phone to pull the mouth receiver away from your lips. 

Without warning, Todoroki brings your hand up and brushes his lips against your knuckles. 

You nearly drop your phone right then and there. Your grip on it slackens, and your whole body along with it, as you continue to stare openly at the boy. 

Todoroki lowers your hand. “Get back safe, yeah?” 

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. Your tongue feels heavy all of a sudden, muffling your attempts to speak through the cloud that has settled in your mind. 

You can’t help but continue staring at Todoroki until the woman on the other side starts calling out for you again, most likely to get your attention since you’ve effectively phased her out of your mind. You jolt at her phone in your ear. “Oh—hello! Sorry, sorry, I just went through a tunnel…” You give Todoroki one more lingering glance, to which he smirks and beckons you to carry on. “Uh…” you trail off, finally moving to make your way down the hallway and diverting your attention back to the caller at hand, missing the way Todoroki watches you leave. 

The next time Todoroki’s apartment address comes up, you’re filled with an anxiety that is very different from the nerves of your first meeting. The inquiry of his potential flirting and the lingering gazes you’ve noticed more and more over the course of your visits have left you increasingly confused, with one main question rising above all else. Did Todoroki actually have the feelings he was expressing—or was he just messing with you because of your once aforementioned quirkless delivery girl tendencies. 

Although you see Todoroki on the news plenty, he hardly sticks around to discuss aspects of his social life. Despite his friends and quiet apartment, a lot of gossip channels and news reporters like to make assumptions about Todoroki’s social life. This means lots of rumors about his relationships and flings, and the various heroes he has had romantic interactions with—or otherwise. As far as the options go, you don’t come close to the type of girl Todoroki has displayed any sort of public relationship, friendship, or partnership with. 

Like you’ve mentioned to him before, you’re just a delivery girl. A quirkless delivery girl at that. What type of place would you have in Shouto Todoroki’s life?

Perhaps he is just as aware of these shortcomings as you are, and just playing the part because he feels bad for you. 

You try to shake the thought away as soon as it drifts into your self conscious. No way would Todoroki do that—not only is it not in his character, but he just doesn’t seem like the type of person to string people along for his own personal benefit. 

Then, maybe he just doesn’t know that what he’s doing is misleading you. The idea of Todoroki just being oblivious rather than being just a dick is slightly more comforting. Only slightly, because the equation in your mind still equates to you falling heads over heels for Shouto Todoroki, and still equates to you being rejected. 

Still, you harden your nerves for the sake of professionalism. Today, you would work to handle your feelings for Todoroki by perhaps letting him know that you can’t stick around anymore. If anything, just for the sake of your own personal feelings. 

You’re still in the middle of rehearing what you’re going to say when Todoroki flings the door open. 

His eyes look troubled. “I need your help.” 

You stammer immediately. Out of how the scenarios you thought of in your mind, this opening hadn’t been one of them. “U-Uh, actually, Todoroki, you see—!” 

He stops slightly, staring at you. “Shouto,” he corrects, still for a second before he’s grabbing your wrist and dragging you inside. “It’s urgent. It’ll just take a few seconds.” 

Still in a daze about his observation, you forget the script you had originally planned out that would help you leave the conversation as quickly as possible. Instead, you allow Todoroki to lead you into his kitchen—where he’s got a container of iced soba noodles and a boiling pot of sauce at the stove. 

He points to the sauce. “It’s not right,” he says, and when you turn to look at him you realize that he’s actually pouting. “Do you know how to fix it?” 

Against your better judgment, you can’t help but laugh at how serious his problem had seemed just a few seconds ago. The part of you that knows the dangers of staying here tells you to leave, but the part of you that likes Todoroki and the time that you spend with him, longs to stay. So you do the latter, because of course you do. 

“Let’s see what I can do,” you settle with, stepping up to the stove and taking the spoon that rests on the countertop. “Can I use this?” you ask quietly, dipping it into the sauce when Todoroki nods. You bring the spoon up to your lips, allowing the taste to sink into your mouth before you decide how to proceed. “It’s a little salty,” you acknowledge. “Putting in some water should help dilute it. Do you think you can pass me a cup…?” You turn towards Todoroki, trailing off when you realize the position he’s settled himself into—chest pressed against your back, his hands against the counter to cage you in, and face hovering right next to you. 

Todoroki hums, gazing over at you. “A cup?” 

Your jaw tightens for a moment, before you swallow thickly. Your mind feels like it’s waddling through quicksand all over again. Your gaze flickers all over his face, settling at his mouth. You slowly take in a breath, as if to calm your nerves. But doing that only draws in Todoroki’s attention. “Were you actually bothered by the sauce being too salty?” you ask. 

He shrugs, a smirk threatening the corner of his lips. “Not really, but it brought you in here, didn’t it?” 

“I-I guess so,” you manage, every second passing by making you more and more aware of his lips and the fact that he seems to be getting closer and closer to you. Almost unconsciously, you close your eyes. 

And then, he kisses you. As soon as you feel the weight of his mouth against yours, you hear Todoroki’s heavy exhale as he presses himself harder against you. His right hand moves from gripping the kitchen counter to cup your face, adjusting you to a new angle that allows him to kiss you deeper. 

You’re the first to pull away, your heart hammering too quickly and crawling up your throat in a way that makes it difficult to breathe through the kiss. At first, your eyes are closed, as you try to catch your breath. But when you look up, you realize that Todoroki is staring right at you. 

As if on your own accord, you adjust your body so that you are fully facing him this time, meaning there are less cranes and stretches needed for you to reach him. And you do, gripping his t-shirt tightly in your grasp and leaning forward to close the gap between the two of you. At your positive response, Todoroki accepts you eagerly. His fingers dance up your neck, resting softly at your jawline as he kisses you feverishly. 

The overwhelming sensation of his presence, of his fingers and the offsetting of hot and cold that emits from it, creates a dizzying effect that makes you feel like you’re slipping and falling at the same time. It draws out whimpers from the back of your throat, noises that Todoroki takes a keen interest in because he presses harder and seems to guide your body to a destination of his choice. 

The kiss turns more slow and languid after a few minutes, before Todoroki pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. Your breathing seems to mix together, as Todoroki stares at you like you’ve flown up into the sky to hang the stars that twinkle from his apartment window. He whispers your name. “I…” he starts. 

But it’s a sentence he doesn’t get to finish, because your phone goes off and it jolts you out of your trance. You start, immediately reaching for your phone and realizing that it’s Bakugo. “O-Oh, shit, it’s my boss,” you say. “Uh… sorry, I should take this. And leave.” 

Todoroki says your name again, but you’re shaking your head. 

“Sorry, ah, I can’t do this right now. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” you offer with a weak smile, as you practically run out of Todoroki’s apartment building. It is only when Bakugo is done asking you to hurry the fuck up because there’s a new round of orders that need to be delivered that you realize you forgot to collect Todoroki’s payment. More than that, you kissed him and have effectively fallen for him harder than you ever meant to. 

The moped does well to dry out the water of embarrassment that glazes across your eyes. 

It takes about 24 hours for you to realize that you don’t have Todoroki’s contact information, or vice versa. It’s good because it means you get a little more time to deal with the repercussions of yesterday’s events, but it’s bad for the exact same reason. Reflecting on what had happened gives you more time to overthink, to overanalyze, to over-assume—and it leaves you feeling more embarrassed and shameful than ever before. 

It’s a shame that graduates into anxiety when you see Todoroki’s apartment on the delivery list. Obviously, you had known it would only be a matter of time before he tried to reach out to you, given that take-out orders are the only way for him to reach you, but that doesn’t make you less stressed. Quite the opposite, in fact. Especially because you’ve had all this time to exaggerate Todoroki’s secret dislike of you. 

And quite honestly, if that’s the direction Todoroki is going to take the conversation, you’d rather not hear about it right now. 

So you turn to Kirishima, who is just about to exit the back room to return back to the restaurant floor. “Kirishima!” you hiss, holding out the phone to him. “Can we switch for this round of deliveries?” 

He stops short to look back at you. “Are you not feeling well?” he asks. 

You sigh. “I’m fine, I just don’t think I’m up for this specific round… I’ll cover for you after this though.” 

Kirishima raises an eyebrow. “Why this specific round?” 

“I just don’t feel up to it,” you rebuff weakly. No way could you tell Kirishima the specifics of it, he’ll tease you relentlessly about it since he’s vaguely aware of what you’ve been doing for the past few deliveries at this specific apartment building. 

Kirishima takes the company phone from you, which lists all the addresses that require a delivery. “You sure about us switching?” he asks. “Your boy’s address is on here. You don’t want to see him?” 

Before you can conjure up another lie, a scoff comes from behind you. “Obviously she’s trying to avoid him or something, that’s why she’s asking you to cover,” Bakugo hisses from behind you, arms crossed over his chest. It appears like he’s just come from his lunch break and is about to clock back in to resume his role in the kitchen. He glares at you. “Isn’t that right?” 

You cough, mind blank on how you could even begin to defend yourself. “It’s a complicated situation, Bakugo—!” 

“Like hell it is!” he retorts. “Look, none of us know the details about this guy you’ve been hanging out with during your deliveries—but from what you’ve told us, he doesn’t seem like the type to string you along. And even if he is, why would you want to waste your time avoiding some stupid boy when you can just have everything out in the open and move on with your life quicker? Your time is important—and the worst thing that can happen is have this boy tell you he doesn’t like you back, but why miss out on a potential relationship just because of your fear?” 

He stares at you for a long, hard minute, before he brushes past you and Kirishima to re-enter the kitchen. This leaves you in the back room, eyes wide and heart pounding at Bakugo’s words. 

Kirishima whistles. “That’s Katsuki’s tough love for you.” He glances back at you, still holding onto the restaurant phone, albeit with more hesitation. “Do you still want me to make the deliveries?” 

You stare down at the phone, Bakugo’s words replaying back in your mind, as you finally release a sigh. “I suppose I should,” you say, reaching over to take back the restaurant phone. 

After all, in your attempts to avoid Todoroki, you’re not just wasting your time—you’re also wasting Todoroki’s time. And regardless if he’s unaware of the effect he has on you, he doesn’t deserve to be dragged around like this. 

Still, you save his apartment for last. Mostly just for the sake of your own sanity. 

Todoroki answers the door as soon as you knock. He looks winded though, like he had run from somewhere inside his big, fancy apartment to reach the door in record time. 

“It’s you,” he breathes out. 

You nod, smiling tightly. “Uh… yeah,” you start, holding up the take-out bag for him to take. “C-Can we talk?” 

Todoroki takes the bag, nodding immediately. “Come on in.” 

You follow him inside, but choose to linger by the entrance. “I think I just want to talk right here,” you say firmly. 

Todoroki gives you an unreadable expression, but he nods. “Fair enough,” he replies, kneeling down to set the soba order on the floor. “I just wanted to apologize,” he starts. “I should have called you… or at least texted you. But I didn’t have your number…” 

You lace your fingers together. “It’s okay.” 

“I’ve clearly made you uncomfortable,” he continues quietly, his words making you look up at him. You hadn’t been expecting him to start with that. “So I just wanted to apologize for what happened the other day. For, uh…” he trails off for a moment, looking more nervous than you had ever seen him before. Clearly, he’s never had to tell off a girl, you think to yourself miserably. “Kissing you like that. Clearly, I misread the signs.” 

You furrow your eyebrows slightly. “What do you mean by you misreading the signs?” you blurt out. 

Todoroki blinks. “I thought that there was a chance you liked me back.” 

“B-Back?” you echo, completely taken by surprise that you forget that you’re supposed to be miserable about his upcoming rejection. “You like me?” 

He hesitates for a moment. “I do,” he settles on admitting. “I like spending time with you, and cooking soba with you. I thought that you kissing me back that day was a sign that perhaps you felt the same way. But you look nervous—so I just want you to know that it was never my intention to make you uncomfortable.” 

You can’t look away from Todoroki, not when your heart feels like it’s about to bounce out of your chest because of how unexpected this turn of events is taking. “You didn’t make me feel uncomfortable,” you speak out before you can really take the time to reflect on how you can tell Todoroki you feel the same without becoming a blubbering mess. Much like you’re being right now. “I liked kissing you,” you continue to ramble. “But I thought you were just messing with me. Or that the time we spent together didn’t mean as much to you as it did for me.” 

He tilts his head. “Why would you think that?” 

You shrug a shoulder weakly. “W-Well,” you stammer. “It’s just that you’re this amazing hero with this amazing quirk and I’m just a normal person with no quirk and no significantly amazing life. I feel like I wouldn’t have anything to offer you.” 

Todoroki takes a step forward, reaching out to you hesitantly, before reaching all the way when he realizes that you aren’t going to push him away. “First of all,” he starts, fingers resting against your jawline. “I don’t want you to ever say that you’re just a quirkless nobody—like you did last time. Do you have any idea how much it bothered me to hear you put yourself down like that?” He keeps his gaze across your face, tracing your cheek with his thumb. The fact that he has his hand on you for a much more extended period of time leaves you reeling for more. “Your life isn’t chaotic in the way that you wonder what kind of villains will threaten daily life—but I like you like that. Your life is so different from the one I’ve grown into, and I like who I am when I’m with you. After all, if your life was any different, we never would have met. And I think that has to count for something, right?” 

At his surprisingly comforting words, you can’t help but smile a little. “You do have a good point.” 

His lips quirk up into that rare soft smile. “So,” he starts. “You liked kissing me, huh?” 

You pout. “Is that the only thing you got from that conversation?” 

“I’m not sure about you, but that seemed to be the most important part,” he rebuffs with a shrug, but he still inches closer like the secretly cheeky shit that he is. “Can you stay a little longer?” 

You close your eyes briefly, taking in a breath to ground yourself in reality. “I’m actually still on the clock,” you whisper against his lips. “So I should probably head back before my boss has my head.” 

He exhales a gentle laugh. “Perhaps,” he starts slowly. “Can you come by after your shift?” 

Your lips curl into a teasing smile. “Shouto, are you asking me out on a date?” 

“Well, we kissed against my kitchen counter, so I assumed—!” 

You interrupt him. “Okay, okay,” you interrupt, flushing hotly at how he is able to recount a more-or-less graphic event to you without looking fazed. “Yes, I’ll come by after my shift.” 

It’s worth confirming his question, if only to see his tiny smile broaden into something a little wider. “A date then,” he himself confirms. “But,” he starts up again, leaning forward into your space, tapping your nose with his. The gesture fills you with much more comfort than you would have expected. “You sure you have to leave right this second?” 

You laugh at his inability to take his hands off of you. Although, to be fair, you feel the same. “Hm,” you hum, pondering as if you actually have to think about it. You lean up into him. “I supposed five minutes won’t hurt.” 

#todoroki shouto x you #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x you #todoroki shouto fluff #todoroki shoto fluff #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #traci writes for mha

[cupofmiko]

— MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST —

last updated: [02 27 23] 

# traci writes for mha — a tag that lets you scroll through all my work 

↬ todoroki shouto 

enchanted — strangers to lovers au, pro hero au (fluff, 8.8k) 

test drive — strangers to lovers au, pro hero au (fluff, 13.1k) 

hazy minds — established relationship au, pro hero au (fluff, 3.2k) 

the boyfriend experience — established relationship au (fluff, 3.9k) 

↬ bakugou katsuki 

help — strangers to lovers, pro hero au (fluff/smut, 10k) 

↬ midoriya izuku 

when it feels right - friends to lovers, pro hero au (fluff/smut, 9k) 

© cupofmiko — all rights reserved, please don’t copy, repost, or translate my work. 

#traci writes for mha #cupofmiko.mha

[cupofmiko]

HI TRACI SO i have this friend. we met thru bts and she lowkey left bUT we have remained in contact and like???! we've def fangirled over your fics before aND NOW YOU WRITE FOR MHA/HQ AND I JUST TOLD HER ABOUT IT AND NOW WE HAVE EVEN MORE THINGS TO SQUEAL ABOUT. HELLO U HAVE A FAN IN US <<333 i'm really excited to see where this blog and your writing goes <<3333 fighting!!!

OMG MAI THATS SO CUTE WTF :((( I’M ALWAYS HAPPY TO PROVIDE SQUEALING CONTENT !!!! <3 and thank you so much!!! really excited for the fics i have in the works right now + for everyone to read them :,))) 

#jinpanman #t replies🧚🏻‍♀️💬