#Monoma x reader break up

[subbyalbedo]

Kinktober 2023! 👹

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**All fics are DOM READER**

Week 1:

(1) DACRYPHILIA with Giyu Tomioka

(2) FEMINIZATION with Tamaki Amajiki

(3) ORAL FIXATION with Kyojuro Rengoku

(4) ~x~

(5) THIGH RIDING with Zenitsu Agatsuma

(6) RIMMING with Katsuki Bakugo

(7) TEASE with Keigo Takami

Week 2:

(8) SOMNOPHILIA with Hitoshi Shinso

(9) BRAT TAMING with Neito Monoma

(10) EDGING with Sanemi Shinazugawa (Part 1)

(11) DOUBLE PENETRATION x THREESOME with Sanemi and Genya Shinazugawa (Part 2 of Day 10)

(12 - 14) ~x~

Week 3:

(15) IGNORE with Izuku Midoriya

(16) PRAISE with Douma

(17-18) ~x~

(19) MASTERBATION with Kyojuro Rengoku

(20) COCKWARMING with Neito Monoma

(21) OVERSTIMULATION with Shoto Todoroki

Week 4:

(22) ~x~

(23) CAMBOY with Tomura Shigaraki

(24) LACTATION with Eijiro Kirishima

(25-26) ~x~

(27) BREEDING with Zenitsu Agatsuma

(28) CORRUPTION with Tanjiro Kamado pt 1

Week 5:

(29) CORRUPTION with Tanjiro Kamado pt 2

(30) MOMMY KINK + SUB SPACE with Tengen Uzui

(31) A/B/O with Omega!Muzan Kibutsuji (Happy Halloween!!)

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This is my first kinktober so...we'll see how it goes????? Idk what demon possessed me to have a fic for every single day in October but this isn't stressful at all...not one bit *nervous laughter*

I added some breaks because I don't think I'm gonna get all these done in time, and I changed a couple things, but honestly I think I'm doing better than expected for my first kinktober lol.

Fics will come out at 5:00 AM on the day they are set for.

(as things are posted, they will be linked on here).

Enjoy!

(if someone can explain why tf the links are messed up and different colors (???), that would be greatly appreciated...)

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #leonawrites #dom reader #dom reader smut #sub character smut #smut #my hero academia #demon slayer #first kinktober?!?!?!? #idk whats gonna happen #scary #happy halloweeeeeeeen

[deleteddewewted]

How To Not Welcome The New Years (MHA)

(MHA Edition x Gn! Reader)

MDNI

W: Everyone is Aged Up (18+), Cheating, Angst, Hurt/Injured, No One Is a Good Person Including the Reader, (C: Bakugou, Shinso, Monoma, Kirishima, Aizawa, and Hawks)

Bakugou

He was always too busy for the smallest of things.

He was too busy to set up a date night.

He was always too busy.

He had no problem doing the interviews he hated but he had an issue if you asked him to go to bed with you if you wanted some affection.

Your relationship was wilting away right under him and he seemed to not care.

You checked out of it already. You were ready for him to end things soon since he didn't bother to get you a present for Christmas and he didn't even come home for the holiday either.

He didn't even bother to open them once he got home and instead went to his office to finish up some reports.

You thought that maybe he would try to put in an effort for New Year's.

His agency always hosts a party for the sidekicks and you, delusionally, thought he would take you.

He left you behind at home to greet the new year.

You called him.

He surprised you when he picked up. In the background, you could hear his friends talking.

Maybe once upon a time, it would hurt that he was prioritizing his friends but you were numb. It no longer mattered.

"What do you need Y/n?" He was annoyed. Maybe it was at you. Maybe it was because of how loud his friends were being. Kirishima could be heard in the background talking about some trip he had planned for after New Year's.

You dont remember the last time he ever took you on a vacation.

"I'm breaking up with you. I'll be out by tonight." You're to the point. There was no reason for you to prolong it.

He fell out of love and you were done with being in love with someone who didn't see you as worth spending his time on.

"W-what?! What are you talking about?"

"Bye Bakugou." You ended the call and began packing.

Your phone kept ringing as you packet. You turned it off after the 5th call.

You had an apartment already. You had it just in case you ended the relationship earlier.

You welcomed the new year alone and walking down the busy and joy-filled streets of Japan, bags in hand and phone turned off.

Shinso

He was so sweet when you both started dating.

He was attentive and patient with you. Never did he raise his voice even when you were in the wrong.

He coddled you and that was something you didn't mind too much as your relationship progressed.

It felt nice to be wanted and to be looked after but it began to change as you both got older and entered your respective careers.

He started snapping at you.

He was angry. He reminded you of Bakugou but he lacked the ego.

The once loving and comforting Shinso was now a brut who came home to get upset with you.

He yelled, he cried. He was frustrated beyond belief. He repeated as much to you.

"You wouldn't understand just how hard my job is." doesn't matter if you worked the same job or not, he always made you feel like you were not as hard-working or as overworked as him.

For the holidays he didn't bother to put on a happy face when you visited your family. He started arguing that you should have gone to his family for the holidays.

For New Years you had hoped he would've appreciated the reservation you made at his favorite restaurant.

You dressed up and made sure to make yourself look and feel good. You liked having an excuse to dress up, try something new, and see what might make him happy.

You both agreed to meet at the restaurant since he was out working.

And when you got there he was in his hero uniform instead of the suit he had said he was going to change into at the agency he worked at.

He was sweaty and dirty, and his hair had stuck to his forehead.

"Shinso, you said that-" You were cut off as he slammed his hand against the table, the drinks that had been set spilling onto the table and onto the floor.

"For fuck sake, Y/n. I just got off of work. Can I please relax?" He snapped at you.

You started the New Year crying. He kept muttering to himself about how upsetting it was that he couldn't eat in peace.

Monoma

He was gentlemanly with you. Always opening the door for you, taking his jacket/hoodie/coat off so you could wear it even if it means that he'd be cold.

He was always attentive even if he was self-centered at times.

As he entered his career he was bombarded with work all at once. He never had a moment for you and when he got home he would say he was tired.

You thought that maybe for the Holidays he would get a break but that wasn’t the case. He was working late, barely answering his phone and sleeping at the agency just so he could finish paperwork.

He told you that he would take you to the agency’s New Year’s party.

You were enjoying the music and the drinks, speaking to his friends and your friends when you realized he wasn’t by your side anymore.

You looked for him and in a hallway you found him kissing with someone who you knew to be a sidekick.

“Monoma” You didn’t know what to say or do. He jumped and pushed the sidekick away before trying to get close to you.

“Y/n! W-Wait! Let me explain. This is all a big misunderstanding!” He tried explaining but you were already walking away. He went back to the party and couldn’t find you anywhere.

No one knew where you were and he couldn’t get a hold of you. He started panicking thinking that you might have gotten hurt or worse.

Kirishima

Kirishima didn’t know when to quit and that was the reason why you loved him so much.

He was always trying to push himself to do things that he might fear for the sake of someone else.

He was scared to ask you out and when he managed to get the word with he couldn’t help let out a cheer when you accepted to date him.

Once he started his pro-hero career it took a lot out of him. Physically and mentally.

He was constantly getting injured and every time you had come to the hospital not knowing how or why he got hurt.

There were times when he nearly died and it left you distraught. You never knew when it would be the last time you’d see him.

And he refused to tell you what he was doing or how hurt he was.

New Year's was no different.

He was hurt and bleeding out after fighting a villain. He was rushed to the hospital and when you arrived to check up on him he snapped at you when you began asking him what happened.

You had spent so long telling him that you wanted him to stop taking so many risks. His health and life were on the line and he truly didn’t need to be making brash decisions.

"Y/n, if I don't do this who will?" He was frustrated and you understood that but you also dreaded someday not having the chance to see him again.

"Eijiro, please-"

"Y/n, stop. Just please stop." He doesn't want to hear you complain and he asks you to leave.

He hears the fireworks outside his hospital room.

Aizawa

He's always stressed out and that's how you met him.

He was feeding strays on his patrol and he saw you doing the same.

You started dating and it didn't bother you at all that he was absent often since he worked at UA and as an underground hero.

He made an effort to be there for the holidays but even if he couldn't be there he would make sure to tell you in advance.

The only issue with this was that he prioritized work and solitude more than being around people.

You could understand that he wanted to have his breaks in peace but it also meant that he would push you away.

It started bothering you after a while. You told him that you'd like to spend more time with him and he agreed that he could try but nothing changed.

UA decided to host a New Year's party for the teachers and students.

Aizawa went, not bothering to tell you, and when you tried getting a hold of him he didn't answer his phone.

You got into an argument when he came back.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to the party? I could have joined you." You felt hurt.

"I only went to keep the peace. Hizashi made me go."

"And you could have brought me so I could meet your coworkers."

"Stop it. Im tired and want to sleep, Y/n." He cut you off.

He went to bed leaving you to sleep on the couch as you watched the news broadcasters celebrate the new year.

Hawks

He played the role of an attentive boyfriend well.

He felt something for you, he knew it was something positive but he didn't know if he could define it as love.

He was always good at pretending so it didn't hurt to try and be your boyfriend.

It was a new relationship and he liked the affection he got from you. it was nice.

He felt appreciated in a way he hadn't been before.

Your touch, your kisses, your hugs. It was warm and inviting.

It all came crashing during the New Year party the hero commissioned hosted for all ranked heroes.

He was getting pictures with fans, talking with possible investors for his agency, talking with heroes, and all while ignoring you.

You understood he had his priorities on his agency but ever since you two started dating, it felt like he wasn't really invested in the relationship. Like something was missing from it.

When the countdown began, you tried getting him to join you out on the balcony. You wanted to greet the new year with him but he wouldn't budge.

"Give me a second." He said before making his way over to Endeavor and Jeanist.

The clock hit midnight and everyone cheered as they congratulated each other.

Hawks didn't go back to you at all. You left the party without telling him anything and just went back to your apartment.

He didn't notice you were gone until they started clearing the space and the cleaning crew started cleaning up.

He looked for you and when he couldn't find you he tried calling.

You never answer him and so he left to search for you before leaving you a last text and heading home.

#mha #bnha #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou angst #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou x you #shinso #hitoshi shinsou #shinso angst #shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #monoma #monoma neito #monoma x reader #monoma neito x reader #mha monoma #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #mha kirishima #kirishima x you #aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa angst #hawks x reader #keigo takami

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | shigaraki tomura

Shigaraki’s route of soulmate trope.

"post-canon shigaraki? canon isn't even finished as of when this was posted on 4 january 2024!"

yeah. thank god. gives us time to write our own endings. and obviously i will be wrong about some things. i recommend you read at least one other route, preferably dabi’s, before reading this one. warnings: female reader. manga spoilers up to around chapter 390-411ish, based on language used by others to describe shigaraki and his trauma. bodily consequences to his trauma (some things are intended to read as AFO having forced an ED on shigaraki, but this is not made definitive). sexual content. stalking. gore (in a game). reader is experiencing a type of gifted kid burnout.

~28k

There’s a hentai book lying on your bed.

You’ve never seen it before.

Flipping through it, you winced at the positions the large-titted, ponytailed woman was manhandled into, and though you were frankly impressed that she managed to wear such intricate lingerie underneath her everyday business attire, the protagonist only just got home from work; let her decompress for, like, ten minutes before railing her against the window, please.

Whom did you know who would read volume four of something called GINSENG TEA X LUSTFUL BALLSACK?

Unfortunately, you were burdened with knowledge about your friends’ sexual habits, and some of them, therefore, were already ruled out: Shinsou only read erotica because he preferred his own imagination to any images hentai or live-action could provide, and Monoma only read hentai in which the woman’s eyes had hearts in them to let the reader know she’s enjoying it—not to mention Monoma wouldn’t buy a hard copy of it, let alone a story that didn’t have more plot and character development to it. There wasn’t enough drool for Sero to be interested, and the male protagonist wasn’t enough of a twink for Kaminari to project onto, so whose was this?

Moreover, who the fuck would come all the way back to your old school’s campus to break into your room to leave it on your bed? (Shinsou would be your best bet for that part, but whenever he finished a patrol nowadays, he went directly to sleep, and his and Monoma’s flat was across town.)

You cat, Dango, jumped onto the bed, slithering up next to you and bumping her head on your elbow affectionately.

“Is this yours?” you asked her, and she sniffed the book before climbing into your lap.

You tossed the book aside to pet your cat with both hands, and you resolved not to think about it any longer, even though the cringy way the mangaka depicted the female orgasm was burnt onto your brain.

***

Hopping to put your heel back into a ballet flat, you held the phone between your ear and shoulder while you struggled towards the lift. “I’ve got to cancel on you, Ochaco,” you said, flipping the back of your blazer collar down and adjusting the lapels, “I’m, fuck—I’m not gonna be able to make it this evening, so just go without me.”

Uraraka sighed on her end. “Okay. I know a lot of us were excited to see you after so long—there’s a card Tsu’s made us all to sign, and everything—but we’ll manage. ‘Spose we’ll just have a routine night at the bar and reschedule when you can make it. I miss you,” she said, “and I’m pretty sure I can say the same for everyone.”

The elevator door slid open, and you entered. “All of you are so clingy. I’ve only been away from the agency for around two months, and you know where to find me.” You mashed the button for the ground floor. “In fact, it’s embarrassingly easy to access me.”

“Well, we’re very busy,” said Uraraka, “People are very eager to conscript us for missions, even if they really could be done by the police. U.A. alumni have somehow upticked in their popularity even more since we graduated—”

“Ochaco, I know. I was there. Allow me to weep for your success. I am playing the world’s tiniest violin.” You shifted your bag’s full weight onto your shoulder and exited into the commons. “But listen. I’ve got to go; I’m running late this morning. I couldn’t find my pantyhose even though I laid them out last night, and they weren’t in any of my cat’s usual hiding places. I had to turn my flat upside down and still never found them.” The outside doors slid open when you approached, and the harsh, morning wind upset your hair on impact. “Give everyone my love, O. Tell Todoroki to smile in his next interview.” Eyes darting across your surroundings for any witnesses, you shrank in on yourself and bit the inside of your cheek. “And tell everyone I’m sorry, okay?”

By the time you arrived at U.A.’s administration building, the wind had been joined by a light drizzle that would probably morph into a storm within the hour, a prediction compounded by a plethora of faculty umbrellas in and beside the stand by the sliding doors. The front office was gloriously vacant, though, so you were able to slip behind the front desk without someone rebuking you for being—you shook the computer mouse to wake it up, the clock popping up in the corner—seventeen minutes late.

(You’d graduated with the rest of the class six months ago, and you’d founded the all-girls agency uptown, with most of the women in the graduating class joining to form an instant powerhouse of the industry.

Founding an agency appealed to a good deal of graduates, but you were the only one to go the distance: you were the one to actually make the calls, fill out the paperwork, get aggravating shit done, and by the time to move into the building, it had pleased you to no end that Midoriya had asked you for help on kickstarting his own.

And then two months ago, you’d pulled off, frankly, what was supposed to be an impossible rescue. For the first time, you were getting enormous amounts of attention, from civilians, from press, from other heroes—and you were being followed, never having more than a moment to yourself—always being watched, either from well-wishers or nay-sayers—and sometimes, the analytical critic, eager to point out your faults in the rescue mission to try to drag you out of the hero scene.

You hated yourself for this, but they won.

Too many expectations. All sinking down on you, as if no other hero existed while the light shone in your direction. [And you hated yourself for even daring to consider this—what reprehensible audacity, but—but was this how All Might had felt?]

You’d had something next door to a panic attack when a convenience store, a regular stop in your weekly routine, filmed your reaction to how they’d auctioned off your signed receipt for over nine hundred thousand yen. Breaking their cameras, Shinsou had to escort you out of there in a rush and call Aizawa for help.

Sobbing into Shinsou’s phone on the soggy concrete of a darkened alleyway, you did something you never fathomed you’d ever do, something you could never see any of your friends ever doing, something that seemed as alien and unthinkable as sticking your hand into a pit of needles: you begged Aizawa to get you out of the hero business.

You’ve been handled with care and relocated into a surprising covert secretarial job in the U.A. admin, Nezu’s logic was that you’d adjust to one person needing you at a time, say, over email or at the desk, and if you only answered the phone with only a shortened version of your name, then no intruding civilian would be the wiser.

The job was easy, anyway. Paid well for what it was, but perhaps that was simply standard for U.A. Nowhere nearly as well paying or exciting as working as a hero, but you were adjusting into mundanity. Some days had stretches of hours in which you didn’t interact with anyone, sitting at the front desk without a task, and you even had a few days in which you’d gone in, piddled around at the desk for your whole shift without seeing another soul, and gone home.

Your friends were always so busy. The two times you’ve been able to meet with them contained nothing but conversation about hero work, or else everything was somehow tangentially related to it, and you found yourself unable to contribute to the conversation. Both times, you’d left early, a little overstimulated, leaving Shinsou to make your excuses.

And Shinsou, bless him. Not avoiding you on purpose. In fact, you knew he’d drop almost anything for you to hang out, but you knew his schedule and how little rest he got. So, it was more of a self-imposed boundary on your side, taking into account that he needed sleep more than he needed to spend time with you.

So, yes, some of it was directly your fault, but you were achingly, astonishingly lonely, with an ever-lowering threshold for tolerance of outside stimulation, ultimately feeling like you didn’t belong here.)

Pens aligned. Coaster. Check the school email for—good, no emails. No voicemail. Get out your planner and write your hours in it to look busy. Hey, your water bottle’s nearing empty; maybe you could go fill it or even waste time brewing coffee. But where’s your work mug? You probably left it on the cleaning rack next to the office sink. You should go check.

“Hey,” said Aizawa out of nowhere, ignoring how you jumped out of your own skin, “Good morning. Are you doing a specific job at the moment?”

You gripped the arms of your swivel chair to ground yourself. Is this a test? “I was about to take a moment to make some coffee,” you said, because never let someone in a position of authority know that you were doing jackshit, “Is there something I can help you with, Aizawa-sensei?”

Frowning, he dipped his chin into his capture weapon, still tucked closely to his neck to shield him from the wind, and he shifted his weight to one leg, his fingers tapping in a ripple on the reception desk. “You don’t have to call me that anymore.”

“I’m gonna,” you said, “How can I help?”

Please don’t need anything. Please don’t need anythi—

“Permission has just cleared for me to assign you a long-term task.”

Shit, you thought, internally wincing at how he used the term task and not mission, as if you’d be plunged into the ice-cold water of a panic attack at the word. The kid gloves that everyone handled you with somehow both ingratiated and insulted you.

“You’ll be paid for it,” Aizawa continued, “and it’s low stakes interaction, not even face-to-face. It’s all online.” Aizawa clasped his hands on the desk and hunched over the top of it, the ends of his scarf trailing down onto your keyboard. “You’ll recall moving some boxes into room 310.”

“Of course.” Early in your first month back at U.A., you’d helped clean out and move some boxes into 310 in the same hall that housed Aizawa, Eri, and now you—you’d unofficially dubbed it as U.A.’s drawer to shove social rejects. “Is someone about to move in?”

“He’s been moved in for a while,” said Aizawa, pulling his capture weapon away from his neck, “Keep all of this quiet. You’re allowed to know because I’ve advocated for you, because I trust in you and in your ability to do this well.” Aizawa paused, the silence dragging on much longer than usual. His eyes glazed over, as if considering how to phrase his next proposal.

You waved your hand, prompting him to continue.

His eyes focused again. “The new person is a ward of the school, but All Might and I are his primary—caretakers isn’t quite the right term, and nor is supervisors, so perhaps it’s better to—”

“No, I get it,” you said, “This person is an adult, but they’re not quite independent. Go on.”

Aizawa paused, brow furrowed just slightly as he scrutinised you again, but he nodded slowly after a moment. “I’ll allow him to introduce himself to you. He doesn’t need me to set up expectations. What’s important for you to know, regarding your own participation, is that he’s very new to the hero scene and is receiving his hero training later in life than usual. He won’t be attending class but will be trained personally by select U.A. faculty, mostly All Might, Nezu, and me.”

“Is he officially a student?”

 “On paper.” Something strange passed across Aizawa’s face, but you couldn’t name it. “Where you come in is his socialisation. He’s spent most of his life in disciplinary isolation. Because of the adults raising him, his instincts trend towards distrust and animosity.”

So, Aizawa wanted you spend time with him until he was no longer bad with people, like spending time with feral cats at animal shelters until they’re ready to be adopted. “So, he’s distrustful. Hostile. Angry,” you said, scratching the side of your head, “Is he—do you think he’ll bring up bad stuff I’ve done to use it against me?”

“He doesn’t know who you are, aside from someone trusted by U.A. with hero experience,” said Aizawa, shaking his head, “and you can choose what information you give him.”

“Does he,” you said, sucking in through your teeth, “Does this guy know about how you’re going about this? I think—wouldn’t he be insulted if he knew about how you’re socialising him like an animal?”

Aizawa looked over his shoulder at the empty office, but he bent farther over the desk and spoke softly, anyway. “Recently, when I was training him at night, he expressed that he never knows what to do when someone wants to talk to him after mission, whether it’s successful or not. He froze entirely when a senior citizen thanked him last week, and that��s when we decided something tactile needed to be done. Since he’s grown used to me, you’re the solution.”

Okay. A volatile man, someone who couldn’t go to U.A. at the average age but for whom Aizawa, Nezu, and All Might were making an exception, even going so far as to personally take him out at night to practise hero work.

Hm. Fishy.

But if the good, good men who took care of you wanted you take care of another misplaced person, then you’re going to do it to the best of your ability.

“I hope I can live up to your expectations,” you said, making a note in your planner, “What am I doing?”

“I need you to learn how to play a video game,” said Aizawa, “and I need you to be absolute shit at it.”

***

For you to help some loser with socialisation, he would be teaching you how to play some janky, twenty-five-year-old MMORPG called Cipherstone—and not even the current, polished version of it; you had to sign up for an account on the version preserving the game exactly as it was in 2007. Nostalgia reasons, apparently.

You nudged Dango out aside to check your bedside clock. The discord call would start in five minutes, and you were making your Cipherstone account, completely unable to come up with a suitable username.

“Don’t connect it to your other online accounts or your actual identity,” Aizawa had said that morning.

Dango’s tiny prance across your stomach was not helping, and you couldn’t use Dango in your username, because if someone knew about your cat (and hopefully no one did, because cats were not allowed in the dorms), then a Dango username could be linked back to the real you. You plopped your head back on your pillow, knocking against the headboard. What’s something that couldn’t be traced back to you? Slumping, you let your head fall to the side and sulked.

The hentai book peeked out from underneath a jacket on your dirty clothes chair.

GinsengTea

That username is unavailable.

Well. You couldn’t use your birthdate as added numbers. You kept typing.

GinsengTea69

That username is unavailable.

You’re not about to try Lustful Ballsack. Maybe if you put aside your secretarial propensity for being correct for a moment.

GinzengTea

Username available!

Oh, thank God. You sorted out your password and started customising your character, though you couldn’t do much with the negative six billion pixels you were dealing with, and oh, is that the noise discord makes for a call? You plugged in your earbuds and clicked the answer button.

“Hello?” you asked into the microphone on your earbud cord, narrowing your eyes at his profile picture of a rotund, cartoon mouse. Username Tenkopeito. Looks like he ran into the same spelling trouble you did.

“Greetings and salutations,” he said, his tinny, rasping, just-got-out-of-bed, gruff-from-lack-of-use voice striking you with about fifty psychic damage, “I am Aizawa-sensei’s pupil, here to teach you about the intricacies of Cipherstone. It will be my pleasure—”

“Cut that shit out,” you said, narrowing your eyes at his profile picture: actually, that mouse was so round because it had just swallowed an enormous piece of konpeito whole, with the little star spikes jutting out underneath its fur. “No one talks like that. You sound fake as fuck.”

“I see,” he said after a beat, tone deflating to sound resigned (and though he’d relaxed, it somehow sounded as if talking this way took more effort, like it physically strained his vocal cords). “Am I not supposed to be nice?”

“You weren’t exactly being nice. You were using a customer service voice—which is being polite, not nice. Not even kind. Politeness is usually some sort of put-on affectation of niceness, forced for the situation. I understand if that’s what you think you need to do when you talk to people as a hero, but in hero work, since the stakes are high, you need to be genuine, or at least sound like you are.” Dango crawled across your stomach again, but you lifted her off before she could settle into a loaf on your keyboard. “In the field, it’s often hard to be kind because of how involved you get as a hero; being kind takes effort and drains you emotionally. Kindness implies there’s some sort of reciprocity, some sort of ongoing relationship. You can choose to be kind if you want, but it may wear on you in the long run. What will probably be healthiest for you, on your side, is if you aim to be nice, meaning being honest in a gentle way, framing situations positively but realistically for listeners. The public doesn’t want to be lied to and told everything’s fine, but telling them the harshness of reality doesn’t go over well. Kills morale.”

“Holy shit.” He was scratching something close to his microphone—it must be a fairly good mic, since you could deduce short fingernails against a dry surface. “That’s…a lot.”

“It is. But you can do it. All it takes is practise, and that’s what I’m here for,” you said, moving Dango from your keyboard again, “And I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with all of that; it just came out—I, uh, I happen to know a lot about the way heroes present themselves.” Swallowing thickly, you ran your tongue over your lower lip. “Why don’t we begin with what you were saying before? But in the actual way you talk, please. You need to be comfortable in your own voice.”

His mic picked up the distant noise of slurping through a straw, against what sounded like the bottom of a metal cup, which clinked when he set it back down. “Have you played Cipherstone before?”

“Total newcomer. Though I’ve seen some screenshots in memes.”

“Cool,” he said in a way that was clear it was not cool, “I can’t add you to my in-game friends list until you get off Tutorial Island. Share your screen with me until then.”

All right. You can be bad at this. You can be so bad at this. “What’s a screen?” Not that bad, idiot! “I mean,” you said, fumbling, “How do I share my screen with you?”

The scratching grew louder. “Bottom left. Screen button. Right click. Share option.”

“Ah.” You should probably lure him into thinking you’re competent while there was a literal tutorial onscreen so that he would be more frustrated with you later. “Gotcha.”

For a few seconds after your avatar popped onscreen for the first time, nothing came through but the 8-bit tutorial music. “Is that what you look like in real life?” he finally asked.

“No,” you said, not exactly lying. The character had her hair down in her face (which you wouldn’t normally do when you were on patrol, since it could get in the way of physical hero work), and, hoping to endear yourself to this weirdo, you’d chosen the sluttiest shirt: while none of the horrible pixelated options showed any boob whatsoever, the poor rendering still managed to convey that the top was off-shoulder. Again, not great for hero work. “In real life, I’ve much, much more panache.”

Another silence, during which you assumed he was looking up the word. “So, you click on the screen to go where you want to walk, on either the overall game interface or in the mini-map in the corner. Your destination will show up—”

“Wait, what should I call you, screwboy?”

“—as a red flag,” he said, frown audible, his rasping voice screeching to a stop the way brakes are slowly applied to the wheels of a train. “Not screwboy.”

“I’m not calling you by your handle. Not only is it cringe, but you won’t have to answer to it anywhere else in your life. If you don’t want to give me your name, that’s fine. I could call you by your hero name, if you like; it’d help you get used to answering to it. But no, I’m not calling you your username,” you said, shoulders slacking once Dango finally settled in a ball at your hip, “Especially since you couldn’t even get the correct spelling of Ten Konpeito.”

“It’s—it’s not supposed to say that,” he said, sputtering with a groan coming in at the end, “It’s a play on my name, and including the n makes it harder to say aloud. I think these things through; I have to be aware of my public image and branding now; that’s the whole point of this stupid—my name is Tenko, you asshole.”

“Oh, you’re gonna call civilians asshole?” You clicked your tongue. “Bad. Bad and evil. Speaking from experience, people don’t like that.”

“Just fu—just click on the map.”

“Fine. But you can’t fool me with your medieval, point-and-click game,” you said, clicking to pick up a fishing net, “Incidentally, the oldest known fishing net is the net of Antrea, crafted of willow and dating back to 8300 B.C.”

Tenko paused. “What would be the socially expected response to that?”

Your avatar fished for shrimps. “Oh, usually people yell at me. Get mad for bringing up total non sequiturs. My friend Bakugou is fond of telling me that I’m a collection of those bottle caps with facts printed on the inside.”

“Would…would you like me to get angry? Am I supposed to? I was under the impression I was supposed to curb my anger. To be nice.”

Your inventory filled with shrimps.

“You only need one shrimp,” said Tenko.

“You’ll thank me when we have food later,” you said, continuing to fish for shrimps.

“It’s the tutorial,” he said, frown creeping into his voice, “You won’t keep any resources from it. You should go chop the tree down to light a fire.”

“Well, hell. I want my shrimps.” You clicked away from the fishing spot and onto a tree. “Nothing’s happening.”

Tenko cleared his throat. “You need to talk to the woodcutting tutor first. She’ll give you an axe.”

“I thought this game had magic,” you said, guiding Dango’s head away from blocking the screen, “Can’t I just get logs with magic?”

“No, it’s—you must want me to get angry. As a test.” Scratching. “Magic comes later. Not for getting logs.”

You interpreted that as a sign to make the rest of the tutorial go smoothly. You followed the instructions for a few silent minutes, proving to him that you could read, and when you reached the end of the tutorial, a wizard teleported you to the crossroads of a town centre.

“Ah,” you said, genuinely surprised as other players’ avatars, decked out in what must be high-level gear, dashed past, “I don’t know where I am.”

“You can turn your screen-sharing off now.” Tenko typed on what sounded like a mechanical keyboard. “I’m over here. I’ve got—by the fountain—white hair, all black clothes. I’m not—there you are.”

Dozens of other players were running past the two of you, the only bare, new players in the area. Tenko’s pixelated avatar waved at you. Cheeky bitch. He’s so poorly animated and so very 2007 that it gave no indication what he could look like in real life. But he’s chosen to have a black t-shirt as his default, so he has to be a slut.

You resisted the urge to ask to feel his pixelated bicep. “You don’t have any equipment. I thought you’ve played Cipherstone before?”

“My main account is max-ed out. I started a new account to grow at the same rate as you. Before anything else, notice where we are,” said Tenko, “We’re in the centre of the city of Renfield. Get familiar with it. Think of it as home. It’s where you’ll always come back to when you get lost.”

It’s a barely animated town centre, with a short path up the stairs to a castle door and a few market stalls split between fountains.

“I have no idea what that means, Tenko.”

“It means that—that,” Tenko said, and stopped.

You couldn’t stop grinning, biting at your lower lip to keep from laughing—he’d let out a flustered huff, sounding a little strangled, because you’d said his name for the first time—and, judging by how long this delicious silence was dragging on, Tenko was probably his given name, not the family name. Beautiful, really, that a guy his age (however old he was, but he’s at least the same as you, since he couldn’t attend U.A. at the usual time) could get this nervous over a woman calling him by his name.

Tenko recovered in a way that showed he didn’t: “It means that you are always able to cast one spell, regardless of magic level,” he said in a rush, “It is a homing spell that teleports you back to this spot, so even if you get lost, you can always get back to Renfield. You can teleport other ways, too, but that’s for another time, and I need a cup of coffee.” He inhaled sharply.

It's only the first day, so you should go easy on him. Let his moment of awkwardness go.

However, Aizawa gave you a mission.

Excuse you, a task.

“Do you plan on getting flustered every time a civilian calls you by name?” you asked, petting between Dango’s ears, “Or are you planning on avoiding as much publicity as possible by being an underground hero like Aizawa?”

“I don’t—they’re not going to—it’s different with you. I can already tell,” said Tenko (you froze, fingers curled into Dango’s fur), “because I’m going to have some sort of working relationship with you. I assume you’re here to stay.”

Putting it that way made your heartbeat throb around your ears. You decided you could ask directly. “Tenko’s your first name, then?”

“Yeah.” He must have covered his hand with his mouth, muffling his voice at first. “But people usually—people have been calling me something else.”

“Then I can call you something else, if you like,” you said, getting back to petting Dango behind her ears and resolving to treat him with the same tenderness—he must need it, since no one in his life knows him well enough to call him by his given name.

“No, I think you should,” he said a bit too quickly, “Call me that. Tenko. I’m tired of that other stuff. Click on something to keep from logging out, by the way. There’s a timer.” Mechanical typing noises. “No, Aizawa-sensei wants me to be better. Of all things, I need to learn to respond to my real name.”

You squinted at your screen, as if the methodical rise and fall of his avatar’s chest could betray how he was feeling. Something had to have happened to this guy to make him feel this way about such a basic part of his identity, to make other people avoid his real name so universally. Aizawa couldn’t’ve have assigned you this task just to socialise him; something else was unfolding here. How did you enter the equation? If you’re supposed to guide someone who’s also lost their direction in life, you’re a hell of a bad candidate.

But what if you fuck up Aizawa’s plan, whatever it was?

Your recent history is riddled with things going downhill. What if you somehow screwed over Tenko? You’d be dragging someone else down with you, down to…the beginning again, a humiliating re-start, back at your fucking school, when the rest of your friends were out living the dream you’d all crafted together, the dream that apparently could go on without you in it.

Well. Enough of that. Distract yourself. Distract Tenko, too. “Got it. I want a hat.”

“What?”

“I want a hat,” you said, clicking the space around the fountain for your avatar to walk, “My head is cold. How do we get a hat? Hats. You should get one, too.”

“Hats. Very well,” said Tenko, clicking to face you across the shitty fountain, “Do you want one that’s purely decorative or one that has some sort of stats? Decorative ones we can get within a minute, with good RNG, by killing goblins across the bridge. There’s a low chance we could get a low-tier wizard’s hat doing that, too.”

“Then it will be a pleasure killing goblins with you, Tenko.”

“Mm,” he said at the back of his throat, “First, we’ll need to obtain some sort of weapons, since bare-handed punching them will take forever. We could either talk to the melee tutor to get a temporary sword or start wi—actually, we should talk to the melee tutor. Melee will probably be the easiest fighting style for you right now, and it’ll be the simplest, since you won’t have to worry about running out of ammunition or runes.”

“Sure,” you said, leaning back in bed, “Do we go starboard or port?”

“You can just call them east and west, y’know. And we go north.”

To be obstinate, you clicked the opposite direction that Tenkopeito was going, and the moment you ran offscreen, Tenko spoke in a low, grumbling voice into his microphone. “No, don’t run away from me. Come back here.”

The rumble in his voice shot warmth straight to your lower stomach, the nature of the encounter between the two of you changing in a second. Your avatar kept running to her destination, your hand frozen and hovering above the tracking pad. You blinked, your throat drying. Snapping back into it, you ran back to Tenko, who seemed unaware of what he just did to you—and he almost negated your arousal in the way he kept talking about sword upgrades and something called RNG.

Uh.

“—now, it’ll take about ten minutes, but it’ll seem like two hours of hard labour. Follow me across the bridge. Follow—there’s a follow mechanic, if you’ll right-click on me.”

Oh, you’ll right-click him, all right. You needed to know more about Tenko—why you’ve been paired off, what Aizawa’s planning for him, what—a tinge of shame soured at the back of your tongue, because what currently gripped you were minutiae: more about him, what he looks like, what he likes, what he does for fun, if you’re…the sort of person he’d get along with in real life, if you hadn’t been forced together.

God, get over yourself. You spend two months away from men your age, and now, you’re thirsting over someone you don’t even know because he said one hot thing. You needed to be socialised—no, stop. This isn’t about you. Stop thinking about what his hands would feel like on you, what he’d sound like grunting into your ear as he ground against you—

“You’ve been quiet for a minute,” said Tenko, slashing the first goblin, “Are you all right?”

A very heroic question when you haven’t been thinking too heroically. The thought of his voice muttering against your neck still grasped you tightly. “I’m having—technical difficulties.”

***

Poking your head outside of your dorm/apartment door, you scanned the hallway for witnesses. You gripped the handle of Dango’s carrier, still hidden behind the door inside your dorm, and you nodded back at her when she meowed at you.

“I know, baby,” you said, listening for footsteps, “We’ll be outside soon enough. Gotta check for people, though.”

Okay, nothing coming. You shifted Dango’s carrier out of your dorm and pulled out your key, sticking it in the lock at the same time as a door opened down the hall.

Too fast—you had to prod her carrier back inside, your foot stuck in the crack between wall and door, just as—as Midoriya strode down the hall. Keys jangling. Civilian clothes (a Froppy hoodie, in fact).

“Oh, hello!” Midoriya only seemed to notice you once you were struggling to close the door despite the carrier being the way, and hopefully you thrust it fully inside swiftly enough for him not to catch the flash of burgundy. He trotted up to you, hands in the pockets of his worn cargo pants. “I didn’t think you’d be around. Do you not have work today?”

Dango meowed mournfully through the door, and you stepped in front of it. “It’s my lunch break. I’m going for a walk.”

Midoriya nodded, and he glanced over his shoulder back to the room he’d left. “Gotcha, gotcha. Good weather for it, especially after that storm earlier this week.” easy smile stretched across his face as he faced you again, but his gaze weighed down on you, as if the number one hero’s attention magnified your failures in comparison to his rise to the top—and the fact that he didn’t mean to pressure you only exacerbated the feeling.

“Uh,” you said, stuffing your keys in your backpack and setting it on the ground, as if you’re not waiting to go back inside, “May I ask what you’re doing here? Don’t you have better—aren’t you busy?”

Chuckling, Midoriya scratched the back of his neck (and oh, in that laughter, he was hiding something). “I make time. I’m just visiting,” he said, jerking his head back towards the end of the hall, “A friend. I want to take care to see him regularly. I didn’t know you lived on the same hall.”

“If you can call it living,” you said, and for some reason, Midoriya frowned, took a step closer to you, and said your name under his breath, eyes fucking wide and too damn concerned for your comfort. Fuck, you only meant to make a self-depredating joke, not make the situation serious. 

“You—you know that you can reach out to us. I mean that. If you’re scared you’re gonna burden any of us—”

You’d squatted down to go through your bag, just to have something to do, to have an excuse to not look him in the eyes. If you were going to cry—which you were not!—then the number one hero’s not going to get to witness it.

“—then reach out to me, at least. I’ve got time, or else I can make it.” Midoriya was kneeling next to you, and you kept your eyes on the inside of your backpack. “If it makes you feel less like you’re bothering any of us, I could check in with you when I come see my friend. I’d already be on campus. I wouldn’t be going out of my way.” He sighed to fill the space when you didn’t answer. “What are you looking for?”

“I can’t find my planner,” you invented, and, acting like you were upset, you zipped your backpack again. “I think I need to go back inside to locate it.”

He shifted his jaw, and he glanced down at your bag and back at you. “Come with me to the vending machines, at least?”

The new symbol of peace, asking to spend time with you. You didn’t deserve it, so you shook your head. “I don’t have much time left in my break. I think I’d better let you go.”

Shifting his jaw, Midoriya tilted his head at you, his eyes glinting. “All right,” he said slowly, “You know yourself better than anyone else. Do what you need to. Rest up.” He started walking backwards towards the stairs. “And I want to see you more—we all do. I’ll see you the next time I come around. Maybe the three of us could hang out?”

“Sure,” you said, shoving your key in the lock to let a thrashing Dango out of her misery.

***

“The church. It’s the one with the altar icon in the minimap.”

You clicked enough so that your avatar would backtrack. “How am I supposed to know that’s the church? Is that icon supposed to be an altar? It looks nothing like an altar. It looks more like a steaming cup of tea.”

“That’s fair,” said Tenko into his headset, “but this is the easiest quest in the game. How are you having this much trouble with it?”

“Oh, stop that,” you said, reaching his character in front of the priest, “It’s intuitive to you because you’ve been playing this for years. Do we kill this guy?”

“What? No. He’s going to give us each the key to a dungeon underneath the church.”

“How can he give us both a key if there’s only one?” You clicked through the dialogue with the priest, and a key appeared in your inventory. “Also, how accurate is this dungeon? Because if this is a broadly medieval game, then the dungeons will be closer to underground bathrooms rather than, like, creepy and wet with shackles and bones. That was popularised by Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe.”

“How the hell do you know that,” Tenko asked flatly, “Ne—never mind. It doesn’t matter. Follow me to the trapdoor outside.”

You did, and it was locked. “Are we allowed to do this?” you asked, clicking on the key and then the lock, “Will we get arrested for trespassing?”

“Wha—no. No, we’re supposed to in order to progress the quest. In fact, our characters do a frankly criminal amount of breaking and entering throughout the game and never get checked for it. Hey, don’t go down there without me.”

Your character had only just gone down the trapdoor, prompting a blackout loading screen, but you popped back up to the surface before you could get a good look around. Your character stood next to Tenko’s, still next to the trapdoor. “What’s the holdup? I thought the only step was to use the key on the door. Did I skip something?”

“No, I—huh,” said Tenko, cutting himself off with a tinge of frustration creeping into his voice, “I lost the key.”

Raising a brow, you tilted your head. “What? How’d you lose it?”

“I don’t know. It was in my inventory one minute, and now it’s not. I didn’t touch it.” His mic picked up light scratching. “You’re not supposed to be able to lose the key, but I guess I can go back to the priest to get another. You wait—”

“Hold up,” you said, brow furrowed, “I have it. It’s in my inventory.”

“The hell? Are you sure it’s not just your own key?”

“Positive. I have two of them now. Same key, right next to each other. Want me to share my screen?”

“No, I—I believe you.” Tenko took a moment. “I’m not familiar with this sort of glitch, where an item from one player’s inventory randomly transfers to another’s. This doesn’t even happen, in my experience, but maybe it’s because this is one of the earliest quests coded into the game. It’s twenty-five-year-old code at this point, and it might have glitched because we’re both trying to perform the same quest actions on the same game tick.”

“Sure,” you said, “So, what do I do? Do I drop the key for you to pick up, or?”

“It disappears if you drop it. Trade me. Right-click, trade option.”

Once the key was traded, the two of you went down the trapdoor and wove your way back into the underground headquarters of a low-level cult, vacant for the moment but with evidence of rituals on the walls and floors, particularly in front of their bloodstained altar.

“Okay, we’re in their headquarters,” you said, making your character walk up the aisle, “What now? Priest guy didn’t give us any instructions.”

His avatar followed you and sat on the only programmed-to-be-sittable seat in the pew, his black cape (that he stole from a highwayman’s corpse) folding under his legs. “Actually, he did. You just clicked through his dialogue.”

“Because you’re here to tell me what to do, Quest Man.”

“Click on the—” Tenko heaved an enormous sigh, microphone sparking. “You figure it out. What’s clickable in this room? What has examine text?”

You hovered your mouse over most of the room, and nothing popped up with the examine option, except for something on the altar. “It’s this weird-looking, severed hand, isn’t it? This thing standing up on a slice of wrist by itself?” Your character walked nearer to it, fingers splayed widely enough to hold an in-game apple. “Weirdest ring-holder I’ve ever seen.”

When Tenko didn’t say anything, you glanced towards his character, but he was still sitting on the pew.

“Is this whole quest a pun? Because it’s one of the easiest quests, so they’re giving us a lot of guidance, so it’s like they’re holding our hands to get it through?”

That broke his silence: he scoffed into the mic. “I doubt it,” he said, “You need to grab the hand for the quest to keep going.”

“Fine,” you said, clicking the hand, and the instant your avatar touched it, a zombie spawned from the altar and began to attack you. “Dude! Did you know that thing was gonna jump me?” you asked, clicking away a few spaces but turning around to stab at it with your stupid bronze dagger, “And you just sat there? You could’ve warned me.”

“I did, and the priest did, and the duke who gave us this quest did. That’s why we went and baked all those pies in your inventory, yeah? For you to eat during this fight?”

Your character kept missing hits. “Yeah, but—like! I didn’t know the fight would be now.”

“Hey, relax.” Tenko’s voice sounded muffled, like his mouth was smushed as his fist dug into his cheek. “It’s only a level 12, and you’re level 9. Not too big of a difference. With your armour and weapon, you out-level it.”

The miss sound effect spoke for itself.

“You’ll kill it eventually. You won’t always hit zeroes, so it’ll pass.”

Though your character dealt her first damage, you frowned. “That’s…that’s actually really good advice, Tenko. The stuff you just said would work well if you were trying to calm someone down—reminding people of reality and emphasising perseverance over luck or natural talent are some of the better ways to encourage people.”

“Is that so,” he asked flatly, trying to put off a yawn and failing, “I haven’t—I wasn’t thinking about hero work. Just thinking about the game.”

“Well, it was nice,” you said, “and it seemed like it came naturally. Mind if I ask if something caused it?”

He yawned again, but he must have leant away from the mic so that you wouldn’t hear anything besides the initial inhale. “Nothing special happened today, but I’m too tired to get irritated. Therapy took a lot out of me today.”

Therapy. Therapy. Okay, so he’s got an official diagnosis somewhere. The word today implies that it’s a regular thing, and for some reason, this session was more intense. Intense emotionally? Physically? What kind of therapy? Well, they offered cognitive behavioural therapy on campus, but considering his non-traditional student status, his might be outsourced. Plus, if you, a former hero but technically a civilian, are being implemented into his care plan without being informed directly—

“You usually don’t go this long without saying some inane non sequitur,” said Tenko, that same, strange scratching picking up on the mic, “Snap out of it. You’re gonna get killed by the easiest quest boss in the game.”

Making an undignified noise, you shook yourself and spam-clicked on a cherry pie for your character to eat until she was healed completely, and then you clicked on the zombie to attack again.

“Why’d you pause when I said therapy? Surprised I’d go? Think that sort of thing is below me?”

“Of course not,” you said, trying to seem like you were focused on the fight so that he wouldn’t get nervous about sharing personal information, “Therapy good. Therapy great. Everyone needs to go to therapy.” Since he appeared to be taking this casually, you could probably ask after the type without it seeming too intrusive. “What kind? CBT? That’s what—”

“You think U.A. would arrange for me to get my cock and balls tortured? That wouldn’t qualify as therapy for me, certainly, and there’s no way that U.A. would pay for—”

“Not fucking cock-and-ball torture, you muppet; cognitive behavioural therapy. The sitting-down-with-therapist-to-talk-about-your-trauma-and-restructuring-the-way-you-think-through-practise type. You fuckin’ pervert,” you said, grinning at his avatar onscreen.

“Good to know. I didn’t know the name for it.”

“It’s good that you made this mistake with me instead of with Aizawa-sensei.”

“He’s probably more inclined towards bondage. Congratulations on killing your first boss,” said Tenko, and you blinked in surprise at your character: you’d defeated the zombie while staring at him. It fell to the ground, dropping bones and some sort of arrows.

“Take those. Check to see if they’re iron or steel. All right, equip them in your ammo slot for now so that they don’t take up an inventory space.”

You did so. “Why didn’t it attack me with the arrows if it were holding them?”

“There’s no logic to it besides that arrows are on its drop table. It’s coded to attack by punching you in the face, which doesn’t involve arrows.”

“Sure. Now, let’s get out of the cult basement; I wanna bake more pies until we can make apple ones. Did you know that the first record of fruit pies was around 1600? That means these fruit pies are anachronistic, since this game pitches itself as medieval.”

“Is that…” The hesitance had you beaming, daring him to actually ask it. “Is that not medieval?”

“Tenko, get your head out of your ass. For reference, 1600 is arguably the year the Azuchi-Momoyama period ended and the Edo period began. The game frames itself as medieval European, and 1600 is hard Renaissance-slash-Early-Modern. That’s Shakespeare times, screwboy.”

Only silence on your headphones. Character still on the pew. You made your character walk over to his to perform the curtsy emote, and in real life, you frowned. “Did I go too far there? Bit too annoying? I’m really sorry if I’m bothering you with this sort of thing; my friends say that I—”

“Nothing’s wrong. I needed a moment,” came Tenko’s voice, quiet and steady, “I could hear you smiling, and it was—it was good.”

Inhaling sharply, you pressed a fist to your mouth. Great. Fucking fabulous. Goddammit, you hadn’t aimed for it to go this way, but were you now the one getting flustered at something as simple as—

“Do most people consider a long pause in conversation rude? Did I fuck up with that?”

“No! No, of course not,” you were saying, trying to recover but still startled at how he was able to flip the vibe of your conversations in so few words, words that seemed so casual to him but grabbed you by the throat/cunt, “Especially since you followed-up with a check-in of how it might be strange; a lot of times, people will be comforted by checking to see if something’s okay with them personally…”

Frowning, you trailed off when another avatar entered the cult’s sanctuary and strode up the aisle. You hovered over the new guy’s stupid frog mask to see his username was Venomothman.

“Fucking great,” grumbled Tenko, “Here comes someone else to break our immersion. Ignore him. I’ll go ahead and fight the zombie so that we can get out of here.”

“The zombie’s dead. You don’t have to fight him,” you said, as Venomothman sat directly on top of Tenkopeito, with both avatars glitching as they took up the same space on the pew.

Tenko made some sort of noise in the back of his throat. “No, I have to kill it, too. It’s like each of us is the only one doing the quest, so in your version, the evil has been defeated, but in my version—it’s this thing called an instance—”

Venomothman: wow a couple questing together

Venomothman: bet ur one guy on two accounts

Venomothman: roleplaying that he can get a gf

The new guy’s in-text chat appeared in yellow font above his avatar’s frog-faced head, and somehow, the boggly, green eyes made his words more irritating.

Venomothman: leave the basement sometimes ya incel

“Some people are assholes recreationally,” said Tenko, making his avatar stand to go to the altar as the clatter of mechanical typing came through the mic, “Let me get rid of this fucking scumba—wait.”

 Venomothman: ur doing too much work to stare at pixelated ass

“Would it be correct for a hero to insult someone online?”

You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. “Eh. You’re not on duty, and you’re not under any persona connected with your public branding. I would say go for it, but since you’re trying to be better with people, you may want to practise.”

Venomothman: somehow this is even more pathetic than never knowing the touch of a woman at all

“Then I’ll shut him down. The shit-talking isn’t bothering me so much as his breaking our immersion in the game,” said Tenko, grabbing the hand on the altar to start his instance of the fight, “I’m trying to cultivate a particular experience for you, and he’s a fucker who won’t stop yapping. Give me a second.”

Venomothman: is this what does it for you??

Venomothman: why no response

Venomothman: hard to type with one hand, isn’t it, ******* shithead

You laughed through your nose. “Cipherstone censors the word fuck?”

“It censors fuck; it censors cunt,” said Tenko, avatar casting a weak air spell at the zombie, slowly, slowly draining its health, “Everything else is fair game.”

“Will it censor variations of cunt? Like, if I typed in cuntbag? Or—actually, let’s find that out later,” you said, tapping the buttons on your earbud cord to turn up the volume, “Let’s practise navigating difficult social interactions. What’s our goal here in this conversation? Is it to continue to engage?”

“No.” His spell missed, and the zombie landed a hit on his character, prompting him to eat half of a pie. “It’s to close the interaction. Therefore, I need to say something concise that invites no response, right? I’m assuming that a simple fuck off is unacceptable.”

“You’re getting better at this, y’know?”

“Is that condescension I detect?”

“Only a little.” You slumped back against your headboard and reached for the bottle of water on your bedside table. “Actually—no. No condescension. Genuinely, Tenko, you’re picking up on this stuff easily, and it’s impressive. You’ll be able to walk little old ladies across the street with style and flair in no time.” 

“Hilarious,” he said, voice restrained and tight at the mention of his name (too easy—he gives himself away aurally so freely; who knows what you could read off of him when you had a visual?), “I’m sure no one wants me touching them. Can I—hm.” He sounded like he was pressing his fist against his face somehow. “Why you keep bothering to compliment me? Most people bitch down to me like I’ve spat my own cum in their coffee.”

“Wha—how about because you deserve to be complimented? Listen,” you said, electing to brush over his vivid simile, “Silent admiration rots. By keeping in appreciation or gratitude, you’re not doing anyone any good. Kind regards are meant to be shared. Like, now, if I held back any positive thoughts concerning your growth, then you might not feel encouraged to keep going.”

“Like I’m gonna go around fucking complimenting ev—”

“I’m not saying you have to,” you said, “but consider trying it more often. See if anything turns out better. And be sure to be sincere about it—obviously.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Just consider it. So. What has he told us about himself based on how he’s insulted you?”

“He’s so low-level that it looks like he just created his account. His stats are even lower than ours,” said Tenko, speaking more quickly now that it was a subject he was more comfortable with, unequipping his wand to punch the zombie instead, “But he’s gone out of his way to get the frog mask.”

“His words, Tenko,” you said, unscrewing the cap and doing your fucking darndest to pinch your mouth from smiling at his slight hitch when you said his name, “I’m trying to get you to notice on whom he looks down and what that means for his personal social status.”

“Right,” he said a bit too quickly, a bit of a break in his voice on the word, “He’s debasing me for—oh, you’re brilliant. How the hell do you notice these things? He’s using basement dweller as insult, meaning he considers himself above that. Leave it to me.”

You muted yourself briefly to glug down water; you didn’t know how sensitive the mic was on your earbuds, but considering that you could catch onto Tenko’s occasional rustling of what sounded like plastic bags on his side or typing on his mechanical keyboard, as he was right now, you would prefer not to be emitting the same.

Tenkopeito: Your mom wishes you would come out of your room to talk with the rest of the family more often

You spluttered into your water bottle as the yellow text appeared above his head, and you unmuted yourself. “That is not what I meant for you to—”

“Was I being mean?” The mic caught the creak of Tenko’s chair as he leant back in it, and you could picture him defensive and pouting as he crossed his arms (and it struck you that you couldn’t imagine his face. Grimacing, you bit the inside of your cheek). “I wasn’t being rude. I could be so much crueller, but I thought this would be more of a devastating blow. Living on the same floor as your family isn’t the same as living in the basement, so I’m acknowledging his level of social power while still demeaning—”

Venomothman: i mean you right

Venomothman: lmao how tf did you know it was me

“I think we should log out,” you said, wiping the water off of your chin with the back of your hand and setting the bottle back on the bedside table.

Over Tenko’s microphone, you heard the shrill pitch of a custom ringtone and a startled but violent shuffle at the noise. “Hold on. I’m getting a call,” he said, voice coming through at a distance, as if he’d knocked his mic aside.

“Oh? Who is it?”

It took him a minute, but Tenko eventually replied, “A friend.”

That must be a damn good microphone, because you could still pick up on Tenko’s side of the conversation a few feet away. “Yes, hello?” he asked, a bit more brusquely than you’d heard him before.

“Oh. I didn’t,” he was saying, “How was I supposed to know that you’d—yes, that’s her. The one working with Aizawa-sensei.”

Very nice, you were thinking, as you unlocked your own phone to check your messages. Very good for him to have friends. Not that you would’ve pegged him as the absolute loner type, because he proved to be adaptable and quick on his feet, but since Aizawa’d recruited you for interpersonal help, you’d considered that he may not have friends. So, good on him for having at least one friend, it seemed, who cared enough to create an account on some stupid video game solely to annoy him.

“—cool of you to make an account to hang out with me. Stop fucking laughing; I am trying to be kind to you, shitstain. Okay. I don’t know. I haven’t been in contact with him in the past two days. I’ve been busy. Let me check.” Tenko leant back towards the mic to address you. “Do we have a schedule for the rest of the week? For instance, are we doing this again on Thursday?”

“I thought we were,” you said, scanning your room for your planner so that you could check your calendar, “Did something come up?”

“It’s not imperative that I go,” Tenko was saying into your ear, while you picked up your laptop to walk over to your U.A.-issued desk, “but another friend who’s been out of town will finally be back then. We might hang out.”

“Psh, go with your friends,” you said, delighted that he had more than one (fighting envy that it was so easy for them to meet up), “We can do this another time.”

“Understood,” Tenko said and backed away from the mic.

Venomothman: so have you sucked his dick yet

Tenko’s incensed shout of “Touya!” had you turning down the volume.

Venomothman: not to be the world’s worst wingman, but my dude is packing. and goes commando all the time.

Venomothman: and i would know. “i” sometimes “did” our “laundry”

You: what’s with all those quotation marks

Venomothman: and do you know the last time it was sucked? never

(Fucking hell. This Touya was walking you back into forbidden territory: the sexualisation of Tenko. After that first session, when you’d been turned on by his confident, rumbling voice as he’d given you an order, you’d felt guilty for sexualising him for the rest of the night. It was as if instead of friend-zoning him, you’d sex-zoned him, only able to see him as a sexual person/object. For the sake of your mission task, that felt unfair.

Or maybe you weren’t even sexualising him. Maybe your brain was appropriately interpreting what he’d done as sexual.

Whatever. Something in your gut was begging you not to see Tenko only through romantic or sexual lenses right now, and you couldn’t explain why.

And talking about Tenko’s apparently massive dick was not helping.)

Tenkopeito: Touya if you don’t ******* shut up I am going to tear off your other arm

Venomothman: no need, boss man

You heard Tenko sigh and say into his phone, sounding exhausted, “I’m not your boss anymore, Touya.”

Venomothman: no need, douchebag

***

Draped over the side of your bed, you dangled a shoelace in front of the gap in an attempt to coax Dango out from underneath. “Dango, sweetie,” you said, whipping the shoelace to the side, “Come out here so that I can look you in the eyes. Where is my planner, you whore?”

At a firm knock on your door, you shot up, dropping the lace. “Never mind,” you said, sliding off the bed, “Stay hidden.”

You opened your door on Aizawa, bare arm raised in mid-knock, wisps of hair plastered to his forehead by dried sweat, and a sweatshirt tied around his waist. He took two seconds to look over you before saying, “Get dressed. Civilian clothes. You have three minutes.”

Throwing on yesterday’s outfit, you rushed to follow Aizawa out of the dorm and off campus, nearly stepping on his heels while he wove through night pedestrians, pulling on his own sweatshirt to minimise skin contact once the crowd thickened.

You flipped up your coat collar to sneak a glance over your shoulder. “Is this a test?”

Aizawa combed his fingers back through his hair, gaze straight ahead. “Not for you.”

“Right.” You stepped more lightly, naturally falling back into patrol patterns: noting exits (narrow alleyways favouring the left side, underground into the subway station), checking vantage points (upper-storey windows in the resident buildings, non-industrial rooftops), honing in on light sources (yellow- and LED-tinted streetlamps, ambience from open businesses) and physical presence (close enough to brush shoulders with passerby [putting you on edge, because the slightest touch could be pivotal]). You had to consciously unclench your jaw, body flooded with stress it hadn’t felt in months. Swiping at the inner corner of your eye, you asked, “Does it have anything to do with the guy in the black hoodie and face mask following us?”

Aizawa laughed through his nose, once. “All right, then. What’s that ice cream place you and Shinsou went to all the time? Take us there.”

Bewildered, you changed directions to head towards Nekozawa’s, with Aizawa placing a hand on your shoulder to slow your pace, and by the time you pushed open Nekozawa’s glass door to the glowing, pink parlour, you were prepared to hold it open for your follower in the face mask. You watched his broad back as he ordered some ungodly, radioactive-blue ice cream with gummy bears before retreating to a table outside despite the dropping temperature, and Aizawa gestured you forward so that he could pay for the three of you.

Holding your ice cream, you hesitated at the door, swaying underneath the seasonal cat decorations dangling from the ceiling.

“Go on,” said Aizawa, retrieving the U.A. card from his wallet, “I’ve got to make a phone call, so don’t wait up. Don’t be too harsh on him; we’re here because he did a good job in the field today. Tailing you was extra practise.”

Nodding, you nudged open the door, bracing yourself at the cold, night air, and let it drift shut behind you as you approached the table, the farthest one from the pink lights.

Hood pulled up, Tenko bent over his blue monstrosity, face mask hanging by a loop over his left ear. Scuffing your boots on the concrete to announce your presence, you sat across from him, setting your cup on the cast iron before swinging your leg over the bench. You managed a cursory glance over what appeared to be a sketchbook before he closed it, and once he’d stowed it away, he swopped his spoon to his dominant hand to keep eating.

“You draw, Tenko?” To make him feel more comfortable, you kept your gaze towards Aizawa inside on the phone. “Do you think you’re any good?”

“Not yet. But I’m gonna be,” he said, clicking his pen and clenching it in his left hand, “I’ve got all these fucking artist’s gloves, so I might as well put ‘em to use.”

“Very nice,” you said, nodding, closing your eyes as you dipped your spoon into your ice cream, “But as a reminder, you don’t have to be good at something to enjoy it. I love doing stuff I’m absolute shit at. It reminds me of medieval bestiaries. They didn’t know shit about animals, but, boy howdy, did they have fun illustrating them. Did you know a weasel used to be called a polecat?”

Tenko huffed, his face mask fluttering. “It really is you.”

“Of course it is,” you said, beaming, and for the first time, you looked at him.

Tension flooded your teacup of a body and overflowed into the saucer and onto the floor. Heightened by the cold, a vein on the back of your hand strained and pulsed visibly, and, jaw locking, you lunged over the tabletop to grab him by the shoulders, shaking him.

“What the hell is wrong with you‽” You climbed over the table, pushed his ice cream out of the way (he shot out a hand to save it from toppling off the table, and he ripped off his face mask to set it aside before it fell to the ground), and planted your foot on his thigh and your elbows on his chest, caging him in as you forced him flat on the bench. “Why the fuck are you using your real name in your fucking Cipherstone username, you fucking moron‽ People could fucking track you!”

The man who had been Shigaraki Tomura eyed your fists in his hoodie and then his cup of ice cream. “You didn’t have a problem with it before.”

“I—” This idiot! “I didn’t know it was you. There are a lot of Tenkos.”

“Then there’s my logic,” he said, hands dangling by his sides, making no attempt to touch you—you didn’t know if you appreciated it or not. “I thought you knew who I was.”

“No, I fucking—I would have given you advice that was more specific to you, over the spiel I was giving interns.” Releasing your grip on his hoodie, you sat back up and scooted over on the tabletop. Though you wanted to keep holding him, to hug him after all he’s been through, he probably wouldn’t want that. “I’m—sorry about tackling you. I, uh—fuck,” you said, and, grimacing, you slid his ice cream back to him and reached across for your own, pretending with everything you’ve got that it was perfectly normal that you were sitting on a table next to Shigaraki Tomura, who’s been teaching you to play a video game, who’s apparently living at the end of the hall, who’s decorated his door with Eri’s silver tinsel for Christmas, who’s banned from drinking caffeine, who could rest his fucking head on your thigh if he wanted. Normal. Yeah.

“Again, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” he said, fishing out a gummy bear like you hadn’t lunged at him, “Your reaction was reasonable.”

“It—it wasn’t, really,” you said, laughing nervously, “I wasn’t expecting you. I mean, no one knows what—what happened to you. Afterwards. It was really unclear.”

“It was that way on purpose,” said Tenko, “It was thought to be better to emphasise the total destruction of All for One instead of whatever happened to his leftovers.” He shifted a bear to his back molars to bite into the frozen gummy better. “Nezu-sensei decided it was better to keep it muddled for now.”

Muddled was a good way to put it. There’d been so much chaos at the end of the war that so much never was accounted for. You’d think that the location of Shigaraki’s body would be high on the list, but satisfaction was found simply in the splintered, spectacular remains of AFO. Shigaraki’s name wasn’t cleared, per se, but in the aftermath, Midoriya especially stressed that yes, Shigaraki committed atrocities, but he’d been abused, groomed, and literally bodily possessed by AFO to think that way. Didn’t excuse him, but wasn’t entirely his fault.

The locations of the other PLF members—well, the core of the League, really—were public, if not vague. Spinner was in the States at a rehab that specialised in heteromorph trauma; Toga was at a local women’s facility called Sakura Grove, and Dabi was living with his family—he must have been that Touya on the phone, holy shit.

So, here he was, sitting on the bench at the same ice cream parlour you visited with the same friends who fought him, hunched over in oversized, black clothes you suspected were Aizawa’s, broad shoulders and faded scars out of place in the pink lights, white hair pulled back in a blunt ponytail with his bangs flopping over his forehead, seemingly unbothered by the toe of your boot pressing against his denim-covered thigh.

God. He’s scratched at his neck so much that it looks like he’s been beheaded with a blunt axe.

Tenko’s eyes flickered up to you, their colour deepening to crimson in the tinted lights. “So. You’ve got questions.”

“Are you okay?”

Tenko swallowed with effort, scowling. “Don’t start with a hard one.”

“Right,” you said, throat drying, “Who knows you’re staying at U.A.?”

“Faculty and staff. My therapist. The police force. The ramen shop Aizawa-sensei and I go to. The intensive rehab I was at before. The top of the hero commission. Touya, Touya’s father, Spinner, Toga. Eri and Midoriya,” he said, tongue swiping over his lower lip, “You.”

Somehow both fewer and more than you’d figured. “What exactly…is the situation? Aizawa-sensei was vague.”

“Officially, I’m like Eri: a ward of U.A. My old rehab thought I was good enough to live off their campus, so I’m back here, where I can be watched by people capable enough to bring me down if I go crazy again,” he said, brow furrowed as he traced the side of his cup with his spoon, “I should resent that, but it’s not like I have anywhere else to go, especially somewhere as comfortable as this. This is fucking stupid to say aloud, but fucking—fuckin’ All Might is the closest thing I have to family now, along with Midoriya.”

“I’m not following.”

“My grandma was the holder of One for All before All Might had it.” He pointed at you with his spoon. “So you can make the connection from there. But it’s stupid; I’m stupid—” He was shaking his head and staring into his lap. “—because it’s like I have a brother in Midoriya and a goddamn father in All Might—and then Aizawa-sensei’s acting like a dad, too, to me and Eri, and Nezu-sensei? Nezu-sensei is so fucking cool,” said Tenko, dragging his hand down his face, “He’s got a driver’s license! I don’t even have one of those. And he can type fucking 210 words per minute with those little rat paws, and I’m still getting used to using all five fingers, fuck.”

Cute. You scraped the bottom of your cup. “Hey, I think you type well.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why it takes me so long to reply in the in-game chat function. Why I prefer communicating over voice call. Learning new habits, and shit.” Tenko stabbed his ice cream with his spoon. “Nezu-sensei has arranged for me to train as an aftermath-clean-up hero. I had been—” His fingers on one hand circled the thumb of the other. “—in discussion with him in rehab about what I could do, and we decided I could consistently help when there’s collapsed buildings after attacks; I could dust the wreckage so that we could find hostages or make it easier to clean up and rebuild, and Aizawa-sensei and All Might-sensei have been working with me to control what parts of what I touch gets dusted so that I could create pitfall traps for holding criminals. It’s…going. It’s going,” he said, curling his lips in his mouth to moisten them, and with narrowed, determined eyes, he took another bite of ice cream, the blue staining the inside of his lips.

“Tenko, that’s a really cool application of your quirk. I hope you can find more,” you said, tilting your head and smiling down at him, “but—I have to ask—aren’t you tired?”

Tenko rolled his eyes. “Of course. You’re part of the group ensuring I don’t have caffeine.”

“No, I mean,” you said, shaking your head, “I mean, you don’t have to be perceived as useful. You’re—you’re just fine if you wanted to rest. You’re worthwhile just as you, not as—as a job, as a, I don’t know, a redeemed hero or anything. You can just be Tenko.”

“I know. My therapist keeps reminding me. But one of the most vivid memories I have from when I was living in that house,” said Tenko, sneering, “is that I desperately wanted to be a hero and that I would pretend to be one a lot. While I’m aware that I can never atone for what I’ve done, if I did nothing but rest, I’d be alone with my thoughts. And with what I’m learning to do, as a hero, someday, someone might…need me. Need my help. I imagine that’s a good feeling.”

You sat back, leaning on your hands, the cast-iron pattern cutting into your palms, to survey him. “You’re very much re-writing my first impressions of you as my gaming buddy and as the post-war Shigaraki. You’re surprisingly well-adjusted.”

He snorted. “I shouldn’t think it’s surprising. I’ve had almost a year and a half in intensive rehab, and I’m still in therapy every day.” He started listing on his fingers, starting with his thumb. “I’m on antidepressants; I know where my next meal’s coming from and when I’ll get it; I consistently have a safe roof over my head, and I know my friends are getting that, too. I have mentors who care for me as a human person instead of as a tool. I get to stay in contact with my friends and get to make new ones,” he said, nodding curtly at you before quickly looking away, “I’m fucking away from that sadistic fuckface. He’s goddamn dead and burned away to nothing. That’s the main thing. Everything else is a bonus.”

Tenko sighed, bangs fluttering with the movement, his shoulders straining as he leaned onto both his elbows on the table. He sighed again and scooped the last gummy bear out of his cup, and you let the silence carry on while you finished eating.

“Long phone call,” Tenko said eventually.

An increasingly grumpy Aizawa was leaning against the glittery wall inside, phone between his ear and shoulder, and furiously scraping the inside of his ice cream cup.

“Yeah,” you said, “but it’s been good talking to you, Tenko. I really appreciate you telling me all of this.”

“I would’ve talked about it sooner, but I figured you knew who I was and didn’t want to address it,” said Tenko, tapping his fingers one by one on the table.

Pulling the collar of your coat closer to your neck, you frowned, hesitating on how to phrase it. You watched your breath cloud in the night air before settling on, “There’s an off-switch?”

Brow pinching very slightly, Tenko followed your gaze to his hand, with all five fingers coming to rest on the cast iron, and he tapped all five of them on it for emphasis. “Yeah. There always has been. All for One kept it from me. Power of belief kept me jittery and alert my whole life.”

“So long as you thought you’d destroy anything you touched, you would?”

He nodded. “That bitch.”

“Agreed. We should kill him.”

And Tenko laughed. Just for a moment, barely making any noise, but he smiled with his teeth, grin stretching across his face as he looked away and eventually closing his lips, the smile lingering for a few more precious seconds.

***

You closed your laptop to answer the phone at work, clearing your throat to ready your receptionist voice before you picked up. “U.A. University Administration; how may I help you?”

“I need you to fucking murder me,” Tenko spat through the phone, angry and panicked, “I need you to rip out my bones and suck out my guts through a straw. He fucking let me hold onto them, and I’ve fucking gone and lost such a fucking iconic piece of—”

“Tenko, please, take a breath,” you said, relaxing your customer service mode but clutching the phone to your ear, and after catching the eye of the woman with jars of strawberry preserves waiting to see Nezu, you slumped over in your seat so that she couldn’t see you over the desk’s overhang. “Tell me what’s wrong. We can fix it. Are you alone? Is everyone else busy? Do you need to come sit with me?”

“I—fuck,” he said, and you heard some deliberately slow breathing, but his voice still had an irate, twitchy edge afterwards. “During our practise patrol last night, Aizawa-sensei was talking about support equipment for me. I’d never given it much thought, because it’s always been just me and my hands. He leant me his Eraser Goggles for me to think about for my—and I don’t know where they fucking are,” he said, inhaling sharply on the last word, “I’d left them on my desk, but I’d taken them up to the roof to sketch them, and then I’d brought them back to my dorm—”

“And Aizawa-sensei must have swung by to pick them up since then,” you said, pushing yourself back to slide in your swivel chair to the back of the reception desk, “because he was here at the beginning of my shift to print something off, and the goggles are on top of the printer. Relax, Tenko.”

“Hooooooly fuck, you’re kidding,” said Tenko, audibly deflating, and you smiled to yourself as you slid their band around your wrist.

You kicked yourself back up to the front. “You’re okay. You’re not gonna get in trouble. I’ll bring them by at the end of my shift.” You sat up straight, and the strawberry preserves woman was shooting a concerned look in your direction. “I’m at work, though, so I think we’d better end the call soon. Anything else you need?”

Tenko hummed into the phone. “Not really. You can’t be that busy.”

You smiled again, feeling—feeling domestic, as if he were your boyfriend calling you during work hours. How strange, Shigaraki Tomura. How interesting. “Would you believe I was grinding in Cipherstone when you called?”

“And you don’t call yourself a gamer,” he said, clearing his throat multiple times, “What skills?”

“Woodcutting and firemaking,” you said, opening your laptop again, “Are you feeling under the weather? Your voice had a bit of a rasp there.” Sounded like his old voice for a moment.

“Further cementing that Aizawa-sensei’s right to be worried about you. He says your brain’s going haywire analysing any detail work you can get, because you’re not out in the field anymore,” said Tenko, clearing his throat again (?), “Am I your new project?”

“Tell me what’s wrong, lest I pick up some damn throat lozenges for you before I come home,” you said, and a voice in the back of your head screamed that that threat was extremely cosy and intimate, especially since you’re claiming both of you have a home in the same place—which, sure, you both lived on the same hallway, but so did Aizawa and Eri, and please shut up; Shimura Tenko needs a friend, not a lover right now. Besides, that stupid hallway wasn’t really home for either of you but was more like a temporary holding cell.

“Fine. I’ve been throwing up all morning.”

“Thank you,” you said, electing not to make a pregnancy joke, “Do you need to see Recovery Girl?”

“No, I’m used to it, and I’ve already talked to her about it. I threw up a lot out of anxiety and stress when I was growing up with All for One, and now I’m throwing up because my body can’t handle the amount of food it’s getting regularly, which is fucking ridiculous, since it’s still less than a normal person’s version of three meals a day.”

What. The fuck. How can he casually drop details of deep trauma like it’s nothing? How could AFO let a child keep vomiting out of stress for years and years and never interfere? Well. Yeah, he could. You supposed that Shigaraki’s voice, as you first heard it as the USJ incident, was the ultimate result of that heavy strain on his throat for years. Explains some things about his teeth back then, too.

God. If AFO weren’t dead, you’d strangle him. Keeping a child physically weak because he’d be easier to mould. It was known that AFO had been psychologically manipulating Shigaraki, but now that you thought about it, manipulating his physical growth would have served AFO, too, since he was planning to move into Shigaraki’s body.

And what did this guy do now that he’s got bodily autonomy? Oh. Just. Play some video games. Talk with his friends. Try out some new hobbies. Make crafts with Eri.

It’s a shame AFO didn’t have a grave, because you’d be skiving off work to drown it in acid.

“My stomach is killing me,” said Tenko, “I’ve got to hang up to drink something and go to sleep. Knock on my door when you get home. I want to start a new quest as soon as you finish work.”

Home. He’d said it, too. He probably didn’t mean it in the same, domestic way that you’d been entertaining, but it made your heart swell. “Okay, Tenko. See you then.”

***

His therapist had assigned him homework: go on a planned, public outing with a peer, and stay out for at least an hour.

It wasn’t exactly a picnic you were packing, you kept telling yourself, scooting behind Tenko to get to the spice cabinet in the dorm kitchen, because that’d be too close to a date rather than homework. But the two of you packed a meal to take, with Eri sitting on the kitchen counter while she nibbled at rabbit-cut apple slices, and she held the thermos of decaf tea in her lap until it was time to stow it away.

After a short train ride and a quiet walk through midtown, Tenko stopped you in front of the back gate to what appeared to be a restored, historical estate, judging by the golden shachihoko shibi on each corner of polished hip-and-gable rooftops of the extensively aristocratic—mansion? palace?—that you could make out in across the distance of its sprawling grounds, the immediacy of which was the excessively well-kept, traditional garden that you and Tenko were breaking into.

“Is this legal?” you asked as Tenko reached through the grate to unlatch the doorway.

“I have an in with the gardener,” he said, sweeping the gate open for you and gesturing brusquely for you to enter.

“No, that wasn’t a joke,” you said, taking the few steps inside, finding yourself planted onto a polished, level stepping stone, and staring down a squeaky clean tsukubai despite the thin layer of frost over the water’s surface as the whole bowl began to freeze, “You can’t be doing anything even vaguely illegal, Tenko.”

When you said his name, he closed his eyes, pausing for just a hair in his relatching the gate, before facing you and shifting the strap of his bag farther up his shoulder. “Prude. Yes, we have permission from the owner.”

He kept looking back over his shoulder at you as he led you through the gardens, hopping across stepping stones to pass over a carefully shaped brook that led to a tiny waterfall near stone lanterns, weaving through trellises with the wintry shells of wisteria vines and shaped evergreens. He tutted and rolled his eyes when you stopped at the waterlily-coated koi pond, its fish swimming and flicking their tails in the artificially heated water (for some, odd reason, what appeared to be a compact duck coop had been constructed near the pond’s edge, its wood new and un-bleached by the sun like the rest of garden décor). You’d been about to ask about it when Tenko had jumped out of his skin at the sound of a deer scare, bamboo tapping stone.

“Stop laughing,” Tenko said, cheeks burning (and you tried not to take too much pleasure in that, but you couldn’t help it).

“Oh, a sensitive boy, a delicate boy,” you said, grinning as you hopped onto the same stone as him, cool, clouding breaths mixing together in the proximity, and you yourself could feel heat rise to your face. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Good traits to have, actually. Means you’re feeling secure and comfortable in your surroundings, if you’re off-set that easily.” Feeling bold—it was the cold; it was how the proximity already flustered him; it was how his hands were full because of the bag; it was—whatever—you reached for his silly All Might scarf and re-tied the front, fluffing it up to cover more of his neck.

You made the mistake of making eye contact: full of caution, his eyes kept darting from your hands to your face, searching for something, his lips parted, otherwise completely fucking frozen.

Were you making him uncomfortable? You stilled, your fingers still in the fringe of his scarf, tension tightening in your chest and jaw (clenching).

Tenko noticed. And—and to this day, you can’t believe he fucking did this—he ran his tongue over his lower lip and lifted his chin, exposing more of his neck to you. He then was suddenly very interested in the koi pond, the ruddiness spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

Throat dry, you gave his scarf a final tug and patted it (?) to show (??) a job well done (???). “Yeah,” you said, smoothly, like a smooth person, like someone who adjusts scarves of hot, in-process-of-reformation villains on the regular, “Where are we going?”

Tenko spun on his heel and strode away, muttering what sounded like, “Right into my grave.”

You pretended not to hear it and let him lead you to the only building unattached to the main house: a small, traditional teahouse that had a recent addition to it in the back. The creak of the bamboo engawa when you climbed onto it was muffled underneath the bright pealing of windchimes strung across the covered porch. Tenko was already kneeling at the tearoom’s sunken fireplace inside, its handle carved into a fish, fiery as its kindling, and was unpacking the travel teacups from the bag as you closed the door behind you, shutting out the cold, enveloped by the comfortable heat trapped inside by the cushioned walls.

Tenko must have arranged for this space to have been prepared for you. A kotatsu with floor cushions was tucked near the fireplace, pre-heated, with two further space heaters in the unoccupied corners, cords trailing into what must be a hallway linking the traditional and modern rooms, the latter of which was shut off from view. Beside a red-tinted wooden dresser stood an oddly empty tokonoma, and instead of a scroll or painting, amidst bits of pieces of scotch tape hastily half-torn off the back was a shittily cut-out, paper heart.

Shaking your head, you took a step towards Tenko, and the floor chirped at you, freezing you in place.

“Yeah, I don’t know why they do that,” said Tenko, pushing on his knees to stand, “They just do.”

“These must be nightingale floors,” you said, crossing to the kotatsu, a bird under each step, “The chirping’s caused by the way the nails rub against the v-shaped clamps holding the floor together. Have you been to Nijō Castle in Kyoto? These are in the hallway—supposedly used as a security measure, but who knows.”

“You need a hobby.” Tenko ripped the paper heart from the back of the tokonoma, crumpling it in his fist. A shred of it remained under the scrap of tape on the wall, which he bent towards to scrape off with a blunt fingernail.

“I have several,” you said, easing down onto a cushion and unfolding your legs underneath the kotatsu blanket, the luxurious heat swaddling your legs and hips. You fought the urge to curl up underneath it entirely.

“How many of them involve getting your ass thrashed by me in Cipherstone?” Tenko retrieved the bag from the sunken fireplace before returning to the kotatsu, and he sat on your left, resting the bag between the two of you.

You took the thermos of decaf tea when he handed it to you. “Tenko, you’ve been playing that game for years, and I just began. Of course my ass is gonna be thrashed by—you know how the game works. You have all of this previous information about the game that I don’t have.”

Tenko scoffed and slid your teacup across the kotatsu’s surface.  “As if I could conceal any information from you. You’re too…eh.” He waved it off, shaking his head.

“I’m too what?” You unscrewed the thermos lid, and steam surged upwards, rising to caress the planes of your face.

“It’s been unfair of Aizawa-sensei to make me tail you,” said Tenko, leaning your way, all five fingers curled around his own teacup as he stretched across the tabletop. “I’d have a chance of success if it were anyone else.”

“I’ll give you that,” you said, pouring steaming, amber tea with slices of yuzu into Tenko’s cup, “You’re getting quite good at it, not that you were bad in the first place. But yeah, it’s a bit mean of him to test your tracking skills on me.” He’d never said to stop, so you poured until liquid almost overflowed at the rim.

He gasped at the heat but nudged his teacup back to his place at the table, unable to hold it in his palm anymore. “I think I would’ve preferred working with Hound Dog-sensei for that. He’s less detail-oriented. I could win, if it weren’t you.” Jutting out his lower lip, Tenko glared down at his tea for a moment before slumping in his seat to slurp at the tea without picking it up.

“Don’t feel bad about it. It was literally and actually my focus for hero work, profiling and detail shit and being aware of my surroundings. Information stuff. Infiltration stuff.” Setting the thermos on the far corner, you cupped your hands loosely around your teacup, appreciating the warmth and getting cosier by the minute.

Tenko was rooting through the bag for the other thermoses, full of sukiyaki for each of you. “It’s clear you’ve worked hard to hone your skills. Were you this talented as a student?”

You accepted the new thermos, fingers clenching tightly around it. “Uh. I think I may have been better back then. More focused. More passionate, anyway. I had to think about it really hard back then, make conscious decisions to notice things, and now I think I do it instinctively. I think I’m slipping because of that.”

“Hm,” said Tenko, tongue rubbing over his teeth behind closed lips, and he opened his mouth to say something but shut it, instead twisting off the cap to his soup thermos. He took the first sip of sukiyaki broth and—and was absolutely beautiful (you couldn’t make sense of it beyond that; he was a mess of details that you couldn’t fit together into a larger picture that made any sense: white eyelashes light against his cheeks as they fluttered shut, face muscles relaxed, scars overlapping with laugh lines, cracked lips becoming moistened by the soup, both hands cupped around his thermos like a child, no strain to his posture, baggy hoodie swallowing him up, kotatsu blanket yanked up to his hips to cover his crossed legs, scar on the corner of his mouth delicately shifting with his baffled smirk when he caught you staring, a strange pink rising to the tips of his ears). “What?”

Uh. Hm. You pinched the bridge of your nose and then moved to rub your eyelids. “What were you going to say about me?” you asked, and you withdrew your hand from your face to raise the soup thermos to your lips, taking a mouthful of noodles and the sweet, salty broth.

Tenko shook his head. “I’m trying to avoid thoughts that fall back into my old habits.”

“Try me,” you said, holding his gaze when he met it, “I won’t tell.”

Weary, he broke eye contact, and he fixated on fishing out a certain slice of green onion. “We needed someone like you back then.”

Back then? When he—oh.

Back in the League.

Though you attempted to hide your grin by taking a sip of sukiyaki, you caught his eyes flicker to it. “You would’ve taken me? You would’ve let me in?”

“Would you have joined?” he shot back, a bit too quickly.

“No,” you said, rolling your shoulders and settling down farther underneath the kotatsu, “Never. But since you shared something you shouldn’t’ve, I’ll do the same.” You set your thermos down to rub your eyes again—God, you couldn’t look at him for too long, lest your intrusive thoughts hand you your ass. “I thought about it. About joining you.”

You dragged your hand down your face, peeking between your fingers at a muted clink. Tenko was staring at you, something fucking unreadable in his scrounched eyes, and both hands lay five-fingered and flat on the kotatsu, steam from his open thermos fluffing up hair on one side of his head. “You’re not serious. You wouldn’t have.”

“Not in the way you think,” you said, tilting your head back, “but I often thought, in the aftermath of the Paranormal Liberation Raid, what I could’ve done, if I’d known what I know now. And as the rest of the war was unfolding, I only wanted it more.”

Tenko blinked, slowly. “Tell me what you would’ve done.”

“Oh, you would’ve hated me, down to the dregs of my very soul,” you said, shifting to sit on your knees, “I would’ve started after your fight with Re-Destro, after the PLF was established. When you were letting allllllllll those heroes in, the sidekicks, the nobodies, anyone who seemed like they were with the cause. I would’ve infiltrated. Slipped in without notice. Hawks did, with the Commission, but I would’ve been going in as a free agent.”

“No one notices a U.A. student slide in between the masses. Re-Destro’s lackeys wouldn’t notice you at the door like I would. You get in,” Tenko said, taking his thermos in hand again but still engrossed in you, “What then?”

“There was a short period of time between the PLF establishment and your procedure, right? Around a month? That’s when I go. I worm my way into the good graces of some of the nine lieutenants—I’ve decided my pipeline would’ve been Geten to Toga to you. You’d just come out of an enormous battle, with Re-Destro and that city and Gigantomachia for a whole month. I heard you were bandaged up, on crutches, that you’d lost fingers that you regrew in that regeneration tank,” you said, eyes on his hands, one in a fist in his lap and the other around his thermos, five fingers pressing onto the grip but the pinkie finger hitched farther up than the rest, “That you’d given a speech and made your appearances regardless. That you’d pushed yourself to your limit and then broke yourself a little more. And you would’ve loathed me, because I would’ve come in, earned my way to your side, and I would’ve put my hand on your shoulder, slid it up your neck to cup your cheek to ask Aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to rest?” You smiled and huffed, shoving it down, and though his hard stare should’ve pinned you to your seat, you pushed on the corner of the kotatsu to edge yourself over to his side, a knee on his cushion. “I like to think that you’ve sighed, sulked a bit, reluctant to admit anything was wrong at all, because back then, you had no use for moonlight. But I would’ve made you look at me, taken you to a bed, made you lie down until your eyes fluttered shut and the tension swept through your body and left. And you would rest,” you said, finding yourself leaning over him very slightly, knees touching his, just enough so that he leant backwards just a fraction, “I would’ve made that month so soft for you. I would’ve taken care of you, when nobody was fucking paying attention to you in the way that they should’ve. I fucking—I wanted it.” You gripped the front of his hoodie, fist grasping more fabric than necessary to shake him. “I wanted it. I wanted to care for you. But I couldn’t. I didn’t know. And you were fucking alone, in an unfamiliar place, and it kills me to think about that.”

You ducked your head to wipe your watery eyes on your sleeve, taking a breath—and realising what you were doing. You loosened your grip, but before you could pull away, Tenko was cat-like quick to grab your sleeve—why won’t he touch you?

“I wouldn’t have accepted your help,” he said, quiet, controlled, holding you down with his eyes, hand shifting to curve under your sleeved wrist, signalling that you could escape at any time, “That was after the worst month of my life, fighting Machia, and I wouldn’t have accepted it. I had too much to do. I would’ve shaken you off.”

“No, you wouldn’t’ve.”

“I would’ve,” he said, a bare finger, featherlight, skimming over the tender, bare skin of the underside of your wrist (oh, wow), “I wouldn’t trust that easily in that short of a time. You’d have met me, and that’d be it. If you’d persisted, I would’ve ripped you to shreds and tossed you aside.”

“Tenko,” you said, both relief and tightness blooming from your wrist, “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

The hallway shoji slammed open, somehow rattling as it slid in its tracks and shook the walls, and you and Tenko scrambled apart, with you jolting backwards on your hands, grappling for your seat cushion, and Tenko banging his thermos on the kotatsu, hastily wrestling with keeping it upright as he flung his body to the side.

“Hey, fuck you, Touya,” Tenko spluttered out, elbowing himself upright as—as fucking Dabi strode inside, hands in the deep pockets of his black sweatpants. “You said you’d stay in the main house.”

“Don’t mind me,” said Touya, cool as you please, raising both of his hands in defence, “I had to ensure you’re not fucking in my bed.”

“What is—” Tenko clambered to his feet to cross to him, chirping with each stomp, and whisper-shouting once he’d corralled Touya into a far corner. “I said we’d hang out later today, Touya. You swore you’d stay inside and watch Naruto this afternoon.”

The polite thing to do would be to appear fascinated by the tea. You returned to your cushion and poured yourself another cup.

“Yeah, but I’ve been told I’ve got shit to do later. I’ve got to go to this fuckin’—fuckin’ family stuff. I don’t wanna get into it,” said Touya, at full volume, “and I wanted to check that your girl was real. Y’know, she looks nothing like someone who’d have GinzengTea as her username. Have you given it to her already?”

“Shut the fuck up. I was just about to do that, if you hadn’t interrupted, cockhead.”

“Cool,” he said, a bird-note as he shifted his weight, “I wanna see what she thinks.”

“Hell, no—”

“I helped pick ‘em out. Let me watch and have an ohagi, and I’ll leave,” said Touya, chirping towards you before he finished the sentence, and Tenko followed him, muttering under his breath.

Touya sat on the bare tatami next to you, joints cracking as he yanked the kotatsu blanket up his legs, shooting you a small salute and a concerningly charming smile. “Hey,” he said, tilting his head, eyes half-lidded, smile stretching to show more of his even, white teeth, “I’ve seen you before, yeah? When was the last time you laid eyes on me?”

Tenko pelted him in the chest with a plastic-wrapped ohagi, cutting off the ooze of charisma. “Show-off,” he said, nudging another sweetened rice ball your way.

You nodded but didn’t move to unwrap it, since you were still working on your sukiyaki. “I’m surprised you remember, Touya,” you said, the name feeling strange on your tongue, “It must’ve been years since I elbowed you in the tit.”

Eyes lighting the fuck up, you snapped towards Tenko when he laughed into his plastic wrap: still not loud, still not making any vocalisation with it, but releasing a heavy, sharp burst of air with a wide, open grin. He hunched over to hide more of it, using both hands to unwrap his ohagi—and in the moment he realised he’d been unwrapping it with only his pointer fingers and thumbs, he dropped the rest of his fingers onto the rice ball, still smirking to himself.

Biting your lip in your own smile, you turned back to Touya (you caught his moment of mild alarm at how thrilled you were when Tenko laughed—or maybe it was alarm at Tenko laughing at all—but Touya relaxed his eyebrows and shut his mouth the second you faced him again). “God, yeah, it must have been before that last battle that we’d met in a fight, and I’d gotten close enough to hit you, and…” You shook your head. “Actually, I don’t wanna talk about that stuff. It’s not who we are now.”

“That’s fine.” Touya nodded towards Tenko and took a bite of his ohagi. “Shimura, don’t you have something to give her?”

Shimura. That was his last name, you supposed, but wasn’t it odd that Tenko called Touya by his given name and that Touya called Tenko by his family name? Tenko didn’t make you call him Shimura. Well, you supposed that there’s only one Shimura now, and because of the number of Todorokis, it paid to be specific—

“Here.” Tenko set a flat box in front of you, flipping the buckle of his bag back over. “I was going to give it to you with more formality, but since this bastard showed up, I’m doing it like this.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, brow furrowed, you unpacked a pair of pale blue headphones, soft to the touch with a mesh headband so that your head wouldn’t ache.

“Noise-cancelling,” Tenko said, gabbling, frowning very slightly, “Rechargeable. There’s a detachable microphone so it can function as a headset. I wanted to do something good for you.” His eyes darted towards Touya, and they dropped to his ohagi’s bulging filling, seeping out onto the plastic wrap. “You need them, anyway. I’ve been sick of hearing you through those shitty earbuds; their sound is terrible, and when you said you’d lost your only pair—which I don’t fucking understand how you can lose those things, because they just fucking show up in my shit all the time, like a goddamn plague—I thought you needed something quality—just to make it easier on my end, obviously, so that I don’t have to tell you to yell into that shitty, built-in micropho—”

“Tenko,” you said, reaching over to place your tea-hot hand over the back of his, fingers curving with his along ohagi’s edge, “Thank you so much. I adore them. I’m really grateful that you would think of me.”

Tenko froze, the same as he had when you’d adjusted his scarf. Unable to look you in the eye, like a prey animal, stiff, shoulders tense, colour rushing up his neck to his face and ears again—but this time, he lifted his hand just a hair from his ohagi to press back into your palm, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Hoo, boy,” said Touya, startling the both of you when he slammed his hands on the kotatsu to push himself up, “I’ve had enough. I’ve had my little snack. I’m leaving.” Once on his feet, he stretched, pressing his hands to his lower back and arching it, grunting.

“Good fucking riddance, cocksucker,” said Tenko, rising and grabbing Touya by the elbow to haul him to the door.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Touya, dragging his feet, chirping slurred and confused by his movement, and when Tenko had him at the wall, trying to shove him out, Touya, smirking under your watch, whispered something to Tenko while forcing something into his palm. Touya ducked out as Tenko looked at what he’d accepted and, letting out a yelp, dusted whatever it was before he hurried back to the kotatsu.

(When you left the teahouse half an hour later, you discovered that he’d decayed only the wrapper and not the condom itself.)

***

“One moment, please. Nezu-sensei is in a meeting right now, but he’ll be out momentarily. Please take a number—yes, the ticket puncher when you first came in,” you said to yet another impatient and pissed client in the admin waiting room, packed to the gills with parents, press, vendors, potential sponsors, and, for some reason, Mt. Lady’s entire representative team. “By the door. If you’ll take a seat, we’ll be with you shortly.”

God, you could punt Nezu for this. Not that there was anything wrong with establishing a new, annual event for U.A.—a cherry blossom garden-set, competitive scavenger hunt coming up in the spring—but because of his casual comment that it would rise to the same importance as the Sports Festival, you were swamped with those eager to invest early. Unable to take a break, you had to work with your head bowed, desperately hoping none of these people recognised you and your failure, when all you wanted was to reply to Tenko’s messages on Cipherstone that morning.

Tenkopeito: You’ll like the next quest. You can pet a dog in it

Tenkopeito: Come over to my room this evening so that we can talk in person

Was he intending to speak with innuendo or with such sincerity that it cut right through you? Moreover, was he aware he was even doing it? Based on what you’ve observed, Tenko had no idea what he was doing to you, nor did he know how hard you were trying not to act on your attraction, though you weren’t even doing a great job of suppressing it.

It’s strange: Tenko evoked some strange, unnameable emotion in you like nothing else. You wanted to coddle him; you wanted to play stupid video games with him; you wanted to sweep his hair out of his eyes, and though you kept telling yourself that you didn’t, you wanted him to tell you how to touch yourself, how to touch him. You brushed it off. Another time. Perhaps never.

“Oh, hi!” Former pro-hero Ragdoll squealed your family name, making you jump in your seat. “It is you. I couldn’t tell from farther back in the line.” Fuck, Ragdoll would recognise you, since she and the rest of the Wild, Wild Pussycats trained Class A, and she specifically spent time with you on your tracking skills because of her Search quirk.

Don’t cause a scene. “Hello, Shiretoko,” you said, doing your best not to let your face be seen from over the reception desk’s overhang, “It’s good to see you. How can I help?”

When she beamed, she was as bright as ever. “Oh! The Pussycats want to offer our services for the scavenger hunt! We wanna get back into charity and civilian events now that we’re back from our mission for—but wait, you know all about that!” You didn’t. But her cheerful voice carried, and people were already turning towards Ragdoll, part of a hero team ranked in the top thirty. “I wanna hear more about what you’ve been up to! Since you left the hero business, no one’s known where you’ve been! Gosh, have you been behind this dreary old desk the whole time?” Ragdoll leant over the overhang, flicking at a loose strand of your hair. “I thought you were sent out on missions out of the country! Like, really important, top-secret stuff. It’s weird seeing you in an office, especially since I consider you a mini me. Why are you back at your alma mater? Did your agency not want you anymore?”

She wasn’t meaning to be cruel. Her loud, blunt sincerity, though, drew the attention of onlookers, and their flashes of recognition, subsequent judgment, and turning away made your chest tight. “I needed a break. That’s all.”

A thin, blonde woman in a burgundy overcoat leaning against the wall immediately next to the reception had been evaluating you, scanning you from top to bottom during the exchange. She didn’t bother hiding her curiosity, and when you shakily handled the rest of the conversation with Ragdoll, she turned to the short, softly featured man beside her. “You know her?” She hadn’t even tried to quiet her voice; it jolted you from Ragdoll, but you steeled yourself and continued printing off a schedule for her—and from the depths of your brain came the woman’s identity: Uwabami, the snake hero, one who usually flaunted her celebrity status but currently dressed down, without her hair snakes (a rattlesnake, a yellow king cobra, and a Japanese rat snake, which—shut up! You don’t need this information right now! Can you be fucking sane, please?).

Her sidekick—no, an intern, a student at U.A., some fuckin’ twink in the year below you, name escaping you at the moment—had some iota of tact when he looked you over, slanting his body away, as if he weren’t staring. “Yes,” he said, trying not to let you hear, “She’s my former senpai and nothing more to me. We didn’t run in the same circles. She’s the one who made that rescue a few months back, the one that got a lot of online backlash.”

“No, seriously,” Ragdoll was saying, “Why are you back at U.A.? Don’t you have somewhere else to go?”

“My—” People behind Ragdoll in line were listening. Trying not to show it. Your throat ran dry, and you couldn’t think of a lie or a pleasant half-truth. “My flat was compromised. My address was leaked, and eventually, people were—look, Shiretoko,” you said, forcing the words out of your mouth, “I really don’t want to talk about this. Here’s the printed schedule. I’ll talk to you later.”

You slid the paper across the counter, and she took it, waving goodbye and still beaming.

“Is this what happens when a hero career doesn’t work out? They just shove you back where someone will take you? At any old office desk?” that fucking twink was asking Uwabami, “I can’t—it honestly scares me to think I could lose myself and be misplaced like that. It’s wasting talent, don’t you think?”

“How can I help you?” you asked the next person in line through gritted teeth.

When Uwabami lowered her sunglasses to glance over them, you inhaled sharply and swung your swivel chair so that you wouldn’t see her. “I don’t know about that. Maybe this dreadful administration office is where she’s meant to be.”

Biting his lip, he shifted his jaw and crossed his arms, slumping against the wall. “You’ll always have a place for me, right, Uwabami? I don’t want this to happen to me.”

“Yes, I can print you out a copy of the same schedule. If you’ll allow me a moment to print.”

“Of course, Kakeru,” Uwabami said, ignorant of how you were gripping a pencil so tightly that it could snap any second, “You’ll never be left behind.” But then she fucking stared you down, deliberately holding eye contact while you were at the printer, and she said, “You’ll never need a place to hide. I’ll make sure you don’t fail.”

“Hey, how about you shut up?” you hissed, ripping the printer-warm schedule from the tray and storming back to your current client to shove it into their hands. “Aren’t Japanese rat snakes supposed to be in hibernation this time of year, anyway?”

***

Someone in Mt. Lady’s group recorded it. Someone posted it.

wizardjenkins11: jesus christ who knew u.a. had its own island of misfit toys

emotionalsupportdynamightsweat: nice to see that she kept her snark, but what is she doing back at school?? don’t heroes have some sort of paperwork component to their work. why isn’t she still at an agency

blood-is-thiccer: lol ua’s the only one who’d take the bitch. she’s being rude as hell to an actual pro hero. lameass quirk anyway and ass flat as hell lmao she fucken deserved that guy lighting her mailbox on fire

LynchianTiddies: You’re encouraging domestic terrorism???

blood-is-thiccer: that’s not domestic terrorism

LynchianTiddies: Then what, pray fucking tell, is it??

blood-is-thiccer: wikipedia.org/wiki/Vandalism

XylemPhloemBuckaroo: no but I get what that guy was saying about wasting talent tho. Out of everyone in that class a, she’s the only one not topping the fucking hero charts rn. She’s the only one who’s left hero work. What makes her weaker than the rest of her classmates? What happened to her to make her like this?

koiboi69: wouldn’t you quit if people were camping outside your house/work/grocerystore? And also FUCK, man, there’s no fucking need to say she’s fucking weak. that’s kicking her while she’s down

XylemPhloemBuckaroo: I’m not kicking her while she’s down. I’m stating facts and asking reasonable questions.

koiboi69: bro wouldn’t YOU feel down if you’d didn’t have a home to go back to??? going back to u.a. is like admitting defeat, like you couldn’t handle it on your own and need protection

mawatadaddysgorl: i love seeing updates on her bc it makes me feel so good about what i’m doing with my life

***

Uraraka and Shinsou texted you but couldn’t call, let alone come from across town. Aizawa was AWOL, and Dango was hiding under your bed, so you, blotchy-faced and damp, were crumpled on the floor outside of room 310, eating vending machine bullshit and waiting for Tenko to return home.

Exactly all the insecurities you’d been stuffing down for months and months, brought out to air in front of everyone. Instead of doomscrolling, you locked your phone and slid it across the hallway carpet, burying your face in your hands and stomach lurching to the thought that you might soon be plastered everywhere in sight, again. Another round of intensive laying low loomed on the horizon, especially now that your location was made public. Your little secretary job was good enough, and relocating elsewhere on campus would lead to more job training, which would be a bitch.

Where was Tenko? You needed him here to say something irreverent and vindictive. Something unhinged. Or you needed him to hold you, pull you into his lap, and bitch about the whole thing while watching a movie. Tenko had messaged you to come by after work, so why wasn’t he…?

The staircase door hissed open, Tenko pushing it with his back, reusable grocery bags on his arms, and—and wearing a cape? Who the fuck wears a cape casu—oh shit he’s in his hero costume.

You’d heard that he had one, designed by the same company that’d made Midoriya’s and Shouto’s, and the similarities were clear: a boxy sort of design due to thick fabric that still somehow hugged his chest, a minimalist utility belt, and sturdy, knee-capping boots, positively flaming scarlet in contrast to the dark greys of the rest of his jumpsuit. The most obvious connection with another hero, though, made your chest throb: his cloak fastened with the same clasp his grandmother’s had. His dust-blocking respirator lay around his neck for the moment, but what was most embarrassing for you was how your brain fucking wheezed like a boiling kettle at his bare arms, biceps bulging, every fucking inch of skin down to his fingertips completely on display like a goddamn slut.

Whore behaviour. Whore behaviour! You had to duck your head when he squatted next to you, because oh, now you could see the stretch marks on his upper arms, because he’d gotten large way too quickly to be healthy, and smell his fading Old Spice and sweat from being out on what must have been an emergency call, and he was setting his grocery bags aside, reaching out to graze your shoulder, and wow, he’d been complaining about how he didn’t have abs yet despite working out five days a week now that his stamina had increased, but that fabric clung to his lower abdomen, looking very, very flat.

Initially pinching the fabric of your sweater, he shifted his jaw and laid his hand on your shoulder. “Who am I dusting?”

“God, Tenko,” you said, trying to look anywhere but his arms, or his abdomen, or his fucking lips, but he was leaning so much over you that he occupied most of your line of vision, and the only way to avoid seeing anything besides wisps of white hair was to gaze at the popcorned ceiling. “You’re not supposed to do that anymore.”

“Oh, yeah? Who am I dusting?” He squeezed your shoulder, stretching his thumb out to rub at your collarbone.

“Unless you can dust everyone in the country, I don’t think decay will help.”

Tenko clicked his tongue. “I have been explicitly told not to do that,” he said, shifting to sit on his knees, “I have—” He dug into a grocery bag for a moment. “—this for you. You like this shit, right?” Tenko pressed a bottle of pink lemonade into your hands.

“Fucking. Fuck. I do,” you said, passing the condensation-coated bottle from one hand to another, chest tightening, blinking to keep the water levels low, “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me this.”

“I know that,” he said with a dismissive wave, and he paused, fists in his lap. “Would it help if I gave you a hug?”

(What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the—)

“Yeah,” you said calmly, like a calm person, and when Tenko opened his (muscular) arms, you crawled into them, wrapping your own around his back to rest between his shoulder blades. You rested your chin in a fold of his cape, cheek pressing against the side of his respirator, and you frowned as his embrace tightened, pulling you closer in a sloppy, unpractised sort of way, grounded by the steady rise and fall of his very solid chest.

(This felt…affectionate. Romantic, even.

But Shigaraki Tomura didn’t do romance, and you don’t—you’re not—you wouldn’t dream of being conceited enough to read someone’s perhaps thoughtless actions as flirtation, because why would someone be flirting with you? No one did that in general, and being U.A.’s humiliating problem child exacerbated the fact.

Moreover, why would the man who was Shigaraki Tomura, in the middle of his rehabilitation and re-discovery of self, even in the microscopic chance that he had the mental energy to experience romantic feelings, aim that romantic impulse towards you? It would make more sense if he liked someone he’d known for a while, like Touya or Spinner or Toga, and if his romantic feelings leant towards recuperative trauma-bonding, wouldn’t it be more apt to feel for someone at his rehab? His therapist, maybe? He’d idolised Aizawa before he’d met him, and even that would make more sense than latching onto someone as late in the process as you.

He’d gotten flustered when you’d tied his scarf, and Touya’s played terrible wingman. But still. You couldn’t know. You can’t read into this, even though reading into things had been your job, because—because no one would want you. You’ll have to…You’ll have to gather more evidence. You couldn’t be certain.)

Tenko hummed, chin digging into your shoulder, blowing strands of your hair out of his face. “I calmed a kid down earlier by hugging her. Is this working for you?”

(…oh.)

You sniffled and hid your mouth in his cape so that he couldn’t catch your pout. “That’s—that’s good that a kid allowed you to comfort her. What happened?”

“Pipes broke in an old apartment building in the Takoba district. The third floor collapsed under the pressure, and it trapped families in part of the building. I was called out to dust the rubble trapping them,” Tenko said, tapping his fingers high on your back in a ripple, “and they had me dust some other walls to help start the repairs. It was cool. And this one little girl who’d gotten out before the rest of her family was really nervous, and she was sticking to me, holding onto my cape. I was telling her that everything was gonna be okay, like you’ve taught me, and when I asked how she was doing, this fuckin’ kid extended her arms to me. So, I fucking hugged her. Picked her up so she could see what was happening better. It was weird, but it felt good.” Tenko sighed. “I hate how it wants me to be kind more.”

And fuck, fuck, that’s the last straw to this horrible day, and you’re crying, silently, controlling your breathing to keep Tenko from finding out, because goddammit, this idiot bastard man was surprisingly easy to love.

You buried your face fully in his shoulder, hoping he couldn’t feel any wetness through his costume, and you and Tenko sat in the quiet of the hallway for a minute, interrupted only by the A/C kicking in.

Tenko tried to part the two of you enough to look you in the face, but you doubled down, curling your fingers into the fabric of his jumpsuit and keeping your head bowed. Scoffing, he sat upright, making you follow his movements to stay hidden. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong yet?”

“Forget all that shit I’ve taught you,” you said, grumbling to his tits now that he’d changed positions, hating how stopped up you sounded already, “It doesn’t matter what you fucking do in the public’s eye, because there’s always gonna be someone who hates you. You can’t please everyone, so just fucking be yourself. That’s funnier, anyway.”

“Did you psychoanalyse some press member’s pathetic sex life, or something? Deduce an affair based on the way he knots his tie? Announce the state of his dick to the whole room because of the length of his pants?”

“Fuck off, Tenko. I’m not some pretentious-ass Sherlock Holmes bitch,” you said, pursing your lips and instinctively pulling back to glare at him—

And the moment you did, Tenko cupped your face in his hands, soft at the palm and strongly calloused along his fingers, keeping you facing towards him no matter how hard you tried to jerk away, struggling to stay upright. “You are crying.”

“No, I’m not,” you said, just as a falling tear touched his thumb. As you adjusted to his grip, your hands fell to his thighs, pressing against them in fists.

“Hm. Well, you don’t have to tell me,” he said, eyes on another tear trailing down the other cheek, “but you’re joining me to watch a movie with Eri. I got snacks on the way home.”

You sighed, taking in how big his hands were and how much of your face they encompassed, trying to memorise their feeling until they were snatched away forever. “I thought we were gonna start a new quest tonight. I was excited.”

Tenko balked and shifted into a sceptical grin. “You wanted to play Ciperstone tonight?” he asked, both thumbs rubbing your cheekbones and moving to swipe underneath your eyes.

You sighed again, shoulders heaving as Tenko released your face to flick tears off of his hand. “I didn’t want to be myself for a few hours.”

Tenko pushed on his knees to stand. “That’s actually related to what I originally wanted to talk to you about. Furthering the working-with-others mission,” he said, and he extended his hand to help you up. “What do you know about Dungeons and Dragons?”

***

“God fucking dammit!” Tenko slammed his palm to his forehead and leant back to balance on the kitchen chair’s back legs and then combed his fingers back through his hair, upsetting some strands from his ponytail. Groaning, he crooked his face your way, smushed his face against the chair back, and pointed towards his forehead, where a red splot was forming. “Hit me as hard as you can.”

���Being bludgeoned won’t change the fact that you rolled a three,” you said, nodding towards his d20, “I ignore his whining and continue to drain the fig tree to charge my spell.”

Behind the DM screen, Shinsou rolled his own dice, and once his eyebrows had shot up to his hairline, he turned to Midoriya. “I need you to roll two d12s and a d4.”

Tenko bolted upright, hastily sweeping his bangs out of his face. “Wait, what does Midoriya have to do with it? He’s across the fucking grove! He’s engaged in close-ranged combat.”

You turned away from Shinsou’s sly grin and towards Tenko, mouth nearly a straight line, yanking another cluster of grapes from the communal bowl, and shoving two grapes in his mouth. He pinched at his lower lip as he chewed, twisting and peeling at dead skin, frowning as he focused on his character sheet, scanning it for some sort of information he was forgetting and absentmindedly raising his knee to his chest, the heel of his foot propped on the seat of his chair (thank God his jeans were from Best Jeanist’s Moulded to Your Ass line: the denim strained with his muscles. Your eye twitched). In this particular morning, with the five of you squared off at Aizawa’s kitchen table, papers and dice strewn among grocery store bakery cinnamon rolls and coffee cups (Tenko’s was full of gatorade instead of coffee, much to his chagrin), as Tenko was throwing grapes into Touya’s mouth while Shinsou did math, the narwhal house slippers dangling off Tenko’s feet, it struck you that Shigaraki Tomura had become just some guy. One who went for walks to clear his head, who spent hours failing to do a kickflip on Present Mic’s skateboard, who used emoticons over emojis, who got nervous in fast food drive-throughs, who collected hero merch (of Aizawa fervently and Present Mic against his will), who was losing his sensitivity to foods like leeks and onions, a man who was growing more and more exquisitely mundane.

And goddamn, he’s clever and perceptive and patient and cheeky in a devastatingly attractive way, and he’s flustered easily, eager to do a thing correctly, and utterly, totally captivating in his endless discoveries of what it means to be alive.

You timed it so that the shudder and shock crossing his face could pass as response to Shinsou’s description of how Tenko’s enchanted crossbow bolt missed the Spirit Realm Necromancer entirely, instead sinking into the sacred Grand Oak and instantly shattering the tree as if it were glass, its elaborate root system holding up the floating grove splintering into thousands of tiny shards, the ground beneath your party’s feet crumbling at the slightest suggestion of the shifting of weight. But really he curled in his lips with a furrowed brow and stuttering breath when you reached underneath the table to graze the back of his hand, and when he forced himself to relax, shoulders slackening, frown fading, Tenko spread his fingers to cover more of his denim-clad thigh, which you took as a timid sort of consent. Biting the inside of your cheek, you eased your palm over the back of Tenko’s hand, lacing your fingers through his and going through the motions of reacting to Shinsou’s shattered earth. Neither of you looked at each other while Midoriya’s character suffered the Necromancer’s spell to increase gravity, each movement of Midoriya’s bulky, steel armour accelerating the fall of the floating grove. By the time each of you had had enough turns to land on solid ground, preserving little of the sacred grove but all surviving, Tenko finally squeezed your fingers back, curling his own to grip them more firmly, keeping your hand pinned to his thigh, steeling himself, sitting up straight, and proposing getting close enough to the Necromancer to drive a crossbow bolt directly into his skull.

Midoriya was already muttering to himself over the effectiveness of the action while Shinsou worked, and Touya irreverently flicked his dice at Tenko, chugging coffee with his other hand. “You plunge the bolt by hand into the Necromancer’s head,” said Shinsou, “but with your strength debuff still in effect, you only nick him.”

“I try stabbing it through his ear.”

“It goes through,” said Shinsou, nodding and running his hand back through his hair, which sprung back into place, “It doesn’t pierce the neocortex, so he can still summon another—“

“I stomp him to death with my hooves,” said Touya, picking at his teeth and running his tongue over the spot.

The rest of you turned to him slowly in various states of incredulity.

“You don’t have hooves, Touya,” you said, tilting your head at the same time Tenko rubbed his thumb over yours, prompting your breath to hitch and a strange warmth to travel through your body, making you feel dizzy.

Touya grimaced and reached for a cinnamon roll. “I take off my leather breeches and boots to reveal my hooves. I have been a satyr masquerading as a human this whole time.” He leant forward on his elbow, glaring at Shinsou and gesturing with his cinnamon roll. “I stomp him. To death. With my hooves.”

Tenko sneered, his teeth cutting into his lower lip, but he merely opened his mouth and closed it, poking his tongue into his cheek. “I suppose maiming a party member wouldn’t coincide with my character’s chaotic good alignment,” he said, heaving a huge sigh to—oh, that cunning rat bastard—to conceal how he flipped his hand over in yours to touch palms, weaving your fingers back together and squeezing again, planting them back on his upper leg, massaging between your knuckles with his thumb.

“What’d you just roll?”

“Nineteen,” said Touya, casting Shinsou a slice of his most charming smile.

Midoriya let out a little laugh as Shinsou bitterly plopped his head on his fist. “Fuck you, Touya. Congratulations. You clomp over to the Necromancer and stomp all over him. Stompy stomp stomp stompy stomp. It’s difficult to watch at the insane speed you’re going, so no one stops you from doing such a good job pounding him that he’s ground into dust. Bits of him drift away in the wind.”

Here Midoriya winced. “Weren’t we supposed to retrieve the soul crystal embedded in his gauntlet? We can’t get our reward from that Silver Age dragon rider if we don’t have it.”

“Correct,” said Shinsou, glancing down at his notes, “It has been stomped to smithereens. You can’t even make out what parts of the pile of dust were once flesh.”

Ready to bolt, Touya was getting up from the table and holding up his hands in defence, but before Midoriya could start a speech that would have been more apt for the number one hero to use on patrol rather than during a DND game, the door to Aizawa’s flat opened, and in he walked, covering his yawn with the back of his hand. He halted at the sight of the five of you around his kitchen table, taking in the scattered papers and remnants of breakfast before settling on your DM. “Shinsou,” Aizawa began, disappointment outweighing the exhaustion in his voice.

“You’re the only one with a table that could fit all of us,” Shinsou said, spinning in his chair to face him, “This dormitory doesn’t have a good common area like the student ones do. Would you really prefer us to—”

“We can find you a table; there’s plenty on campus.” Aizawa lifted his goggles over his head to set them on the counter. “Is this why Monoma kept slowing me down during patrol?”

“No,” you and Shinsou said, while Tenko said, “Yes.”

Aizawa actually smiled as he unwound his capture weapon from around his neck. “Look who’s the only one telling the truth.”

“Why would I lie to you, sensei?”

Touya smacked Tenko on the arm. “Suck-up.”

“You promise?” Tenko shot back, nose wrinkling with his grin.

“This coffee had better be amazing, because it’s the only thing keeping me from kicking you all out right now,” said Aizawa, rubbing a dry eye with the heel of his palm, other hand outstretched for someone to pass him a mug.

Tenko’s thumb bent inward to swipe the inside of your palm, a silent protest while he drank from his stupid little mug of gatorade, and when he noticed what was at the bottom, he flinched. It must have been Touya who’d put your dice in Tenko’s cup.

***

Following the video of you insulting Uwabami, you’re garnering an unnerving amount of attention again, but it’s clearly someone different than last time. Whoever your stalker(s) was this time around, they were careless and unsubtle—and this confidence to be careless left you jumping at the slightest sound when you were alone.

Furthermore, you legitimately couldn’t deduce your stalker’s motivations, because no clear message linked his actions. At first, you chalked it up to the dorm’s shitty dryer eating your bright blue thong, but when you couldn’t find your lip balm or trolley pass or eventually your favourite sweater, you concluded that something else was at play here, further cemented by more and more tiny things going missing—things that, if you were stalking someone, you would’ve selected as small enough not to miss.

But bizarrely, your stalker left shit of his own lying about. A phone charger appeared underneath your pillow; loose change and a travel pack of alcoholic wipes showed up in your bathroom sink. Hello Kitty band-aids, a hair clip that looked like one of Rumi’s ears, deep-moisturising hand cream, a tiny lizard keychain with a white hamburglar mask drawn on. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. What could your stalker be trying to say besides he could access your personal space with ease? Hoarding it all in the drawer with the GINSENG TEA X LUSTFUL BALLSACK hentai, you were struck with the notion that this may have been going on even before the video.

God, you missed when this school felt more like home instead of a holding cell, back when Shinsou and Uraraka and the rest were all still living together with you, when you could simply turn the corner to the common area to demand who took your laundry detergent and get an answer immediately (you also missed taking Aoyama’s bougie food, though you suspected that towards the end he was buying extra specifically for you). You sent an email to Aizawa about the potential break in security, and he promised to monitor the situation, though there was no evidence of physical entry.

Evidence. It’s been on your mind.

Sure, Tenko’s done stuff that could be read as romantic: how he plops your hand onto his head to demand you play with his hair, how he hovers whenever Touya stands too closely to you, how he gets upset on your behalf when people glare at you in public.

(Tenko grabbed your elbow, breaking your focus on the clothing rank. “We’re going.”

“But we haven’t found you a red coat yet.”

He lifted the hangers from your arm and slid them back onto the rack, despite belonging elsewhere. “Don’t care. I don’t like the way the cashier’s looking at you,” he said, jerking his head their direction, and when you tilted your head to glance at them over his shoulder, Tenko tapped your chin twice, guiding you to look back at him. “You shouldn’t have to be on guard when I’m with you.”)

If you were reading into it—and you were—Tenko was being so careful with talking about the pro-hero scene around you that it was almost as if he’d gotten a mission task from Aizawa to distract you from anything that might make you feel bad about yourself.

(“I hear you’re causing a lot of paperwork for my old man,” said Touya, pulling out another floor cushion from the storage space in the teahouse wall, “He hates that you’ve had to dust so many structures near his agency. He’s a decrepit creature of habit, and now that his commute is different, he’s—”

“Hey, Touya, tell us what flower bulbs you planted this winter,” Tenko said abruptly, clamping the lid on the pot hanging over the sunken fireplace, “Tell us what your garden’ll look like in spring.”

You shut your book, even though you’d just opened it. “Wait, are you saying that Touya is the one who keeps this garden? That’s—”

“You like it, sweetheart?” Touya dropped his cushion next to yours, ignoring the way Tenko was glaring daggers into his back. “Think it’s impressive?”

“Holy shit; I thought we were in the back of some professionally restored historical site the first time we came here,” you said, smiling at how Tenko’s petulant stomps to his seat chirruped, even when he scooted his own cushion towards yours (adorable; you’d think he didn’t like you giving attention to anyone else).

“Well,” said Touya, propping his hands on the kotatsu so that he could get a better view of Tenko, “With enormous pride and a huge erection, I’m pleased to announce that this garden is all my hard work.”

“Stop that,” barked Tenko, jabbing a finger towards Touya, “Stop bringing up your cock.”

“I could talk about yours, if you want. His monster cock is excruciatingly leaky and so shaped.”

Groaning, Tenko clonked his forehead on the kotatsu’s tabletop before Touya could say anything else, arm still outstretched. He peeked out from underneath his bangs towards you, tension leaving his body at your burst of laughter.)

He’s also taken your comment about silent admiration to heart. Over the discord call (through very comfortable headphones), you’d made a dumb joke about not being able to play for long, and he’d shut up immediately. When you’d confessed to lying and hoping you’d scared him, he’d replied seriously: “I want to protect my time with you. I don’t like it being taken away. I feel better when you’re with me.”

You’d frozen in the middle of weaving bowstrings while his character continued stringing them onto bows. You’d never have gotten that sort of remark at the beginning of your relationship. Tenko must genuinely be listening to you.

Anyway. You decided in the event that Tenko was collecting evidence, too, that you would leave him some.

The first time you’d been in his room had been for a specific purpose, which was to help him rub in his new facial scar moisturiser (not to take them away, or anything, because Tenko wanted to keep them, claiming he wouldn’t recognise himself in the mirror if he didn’t have his scars—and you thought they were devastatingly attractive, anyway—but just to keep them hydrated enough not to itch), but now you were here just to spend time in the same space. You were reading on his bed (oh, hohoho, his bed), and Tenko was drawing in his sketchbook on his couch by the window. With his mouth pinched in concentration, he squinted down at his paper, swiping away eraser shavings with his artist-gloved hand.

Drawing by natural light. Tenko was in room 310 because of its wide windows. It had been his one request when U.A. was placing him.

AFO had deliberately raised him in a bedroom without windows. You’d kill him if he weren’t already dead.

Thankfully, AFO’s influence was absent from Tenko’s dorm: Naruto sheets from Touya, an old Nintendo DS on his bedside table with Nintendogs in the cartridge slot, Present Mic’s skateboard propped against the coatrack that held only a black hoodie, unfolded but clean laundry in a basket next to a dresser with prescription bottles atop it, a mirror that served more as a bulletin board of Eraserhead merch than as a way to check his reflection, red shoes by the doorway, books borrowed from everyone from All Might to Shinsou to the ramen delivery guy strewn across the room, on shelves, his computer desk, his rug. The thing Tenko’d had to explain to you was a therapist-assigned painting hanging over his desk: he’d painted a murky, purple-blue, abstract sort of thing, and you were strangely touched when he’d explained it was Kurogiri (and now that you were looking, among his bulletin board of Eraserhead, a few drawings of Loud Cloud were mixed in).

There’s a lot of people in Tenko’s life who care about him now, and you’re happy to be one of them. Setting your book aside, you got up to sit next to him on the couch.

He paused when you sank into the cushion next to—well, no, you were basically sharing the same cushion, especially since he unfolded his legs from underneath him so that you could get closer. You scooted over so that your shoulders touched (scandalous) and looked over his drawings.

He’s drawing your DND characters. While his sketches aren’t exactly good, you can clearly tell who’s supposed to be whom, and they’re fun to look at, so that’s all that matters. At the centre is your character, Ginseng—you named it after your Cipherstone account because why not—in the process of spell-charging. Your character relies on the traditional ritual of tea ceremonies, from the growing of the tealeaves to serving it, summoning whatever tools you needed, like the table and dishware, and if an enemy got caught by the conventions of politeness of the tea ceremony, they were trapped in it until they’d drunk their teacup dry. Tenko had drawn her early in the spell-charging process, with branches of tealeaves sprouting from underneath her skin, with her harvesting them from her forearm. It’s rather flattering, the way her determined expression lit up her face.

Next to Ginseng was Tenko’s character, Peito, also lifted from his Cipherstone character. He was sitting on the same log as Ginseng in the middle of camp, backs touching while he cut feathers as the first step in the fletching process. His carved-willow quiver leant against his knee-high boot, red even in a fictional universe. Peito’s hands were bare, five fingers pressed against his knife and arrows.

Further back in the camp (really just towards the top of the paper, since Tenko wasn’t good at foreshortening yet), Midoriya’s character, Jackrabbit, was holding up two hangers, one with his steel and the other with sleek, black leather armour. A nice touch, really, since Midoriya had swopped Jackrabbit’s primary armour to the more lightweight leather since the shattered grove incident, and wow, you could even tell it was leather based on the pencil strokes.

Seated nearby, Touya’s character, Granddaddy Slapkins, roared with laughter at him. His shoes lay next to him, his hooves out. For some reason, he’s not holding his pet duck; he’s instead cradling what looks like your character’s wild shape, a cat with the same chocolate-point markings as your real cat (your character’s shapeshifted form was just Dango, but Tenko didn’t know that. He still didn’t know Dango existed, because cats were still illegal in the dorms, and Tenko, that little brown-nosing shit, would probably tell Aizawa about her. Cute how he’s only a suck-up to Aizawa, though).

Your favourite detail, though, was how his character was smiling. Unabashedly. As if it were a no-brainer, as if doing anything else made no sense at all.

With a stab of affection, you nuzzled into Tenko’s shoulder, resting your chin there while he sketched loops of chainmail onto Granddaddy Slapkins’s shirt, and a shiver racked through him.

“Oh, are you cold?” you asked, sitting back up and heading over towards the bed, “Let me get your blanket.”

“Wha—no, I—sure,” said Tenko, setting his pencil on his sketchbook and the whole thing on the arm of the couch, eyes half-lidded as you returned with his throw blanket.

And without thinking, you moved on impulse, as if all higher orders of cognition had checked out for the night, because you behaved like you did in your head whenever you thought about Tenko: casually, intimately, and domestically. You wrapped the blanket around yourself and knelt on the sofa before swinging a knee over his lap, and you snuggled into his chest, clutching his shirt and nosing at his neck.

Your eyes snapped open.

(What the fuck?

If this had been a planned attack, then it would’ve been a thing of brilliance: casual, seeming to meet a physical need [heating a chill] in the name of physical closeness. But you fucked it. This wasn’t planned, and thus you don’t have a way out of it without otherwise betraying your romantically-motivated interior.

Thank fuck he’s frozen up, too. But how do you get out of this? God, you really shouldn’t be teaching him how to navigate interpersonal relationships when you get yourself into shit like this.)

You swallowed thickly, pulse pounding in your ears.

“I need your advice.” Tenko’s chest barely rose when he took his first breath since you climbed onto his lap. “What would be the socially expected response to this?”

“Uh. That depends on if you’re into it or not,” you said, forcing yourself to sit back in his lap to give him some space, “If you dislike it, then it’s to get me to get off of you, and if you welcome it, then, uh. Anything else.”

Tenko unclenched his fists at his sides and—a pause, shifting his jaw—he let his hands rest at a barely-there touch on your hips, dragging them upwards to your waist, applying enough pressure there for you to feel all ten fingertips through your shirt. “Is this,” he said, wetting his lower lip, and he couldn’t continue, instead swallowing saliva.

Gathering your nerve, you wove your hand through his hair to scratch at his scalp in the way he’d liked when you’d played with his hair, and at the familiarity, Tenko huffed, shutting his eyes tightly and pressing his forehead to yours in a rush, almost knocking them together. He took another breath, heat washing over your face, and you slid your other up hand to cup his cheek.

Tenko shivered again, and he clamped his hand over yours to keep it there. “Are you sure this is what you mean to do?”

He seemed receptive enough to it, but you couldn’t be certain. “Yeah,” you said, “If I’m reading it right.”

“But it makes no sense. I’ve got to be reading it wrong,” Tenko was saying, frowning, “No one would willingly like me—”

“For fuck’s sake, Tenko—”

Practically slapping your other hand to his cheek, you kissed him, pulling him closer, one of his hands still over yours with the other now gripping your waist as if he’d never let you go. Tenko grunted into it, surging forward to keep his rough lips (sticky from his freshly applied pineapple-beeswax chapstick) seared to yours. You felt, more than heard, his miniscule whimper at the back of his throat when he opened his mouth, sliding his tongue into yours, and you could hardly keep kissing him for smiling. But he needed a breath before you did, so you broke it, sensing he wouldn’t do it out of wanting to keep you nearby.

Panting, Tenko tried and failed to push your hair behind your ear in an attempt to be suave. “Now, I perceived that as romantic.”

“It was romantic, you muppet,” you said, thumping his chest with the back of your hand.

“Good.” He cleared this throat. “Cool. Excellent,” he said, shifting underneath you (with difficulty, under the constricting denim of his Moulded to Your Ass jeans), “I want it to be, when it comes to you.”

“Thank God, I really want that, too,” you said, sighing, “but, like, I really don’t know if it’s ethical to pursue a romance this early into your recovery—”

“The fuck is wrong with you? I want it. I want you.” Frustrated, Tenko grabbed your hips in an iron grip and ground up into you, slowly, and that tight-ass denim let you feel precisely where in the drag of his hips his cock touched you, letting you feel the shift in pressure at his tip, down his shaft, to the first curve of his balls. “I thought I was alone. I thought no one else would ever be able to understand me, having fallen from what I was raised to be. Fallen,” he said, spitting, “Such a nasty word for what we’re actually doing: we’ve been reborn together. We get to build our lives back up together. We get another chance at it. I wanna spend mine with you.”

He strained his neck upwards to kiss you again, insistent, moving with confidence when he took your lower lip into his mouth but only nibbling on it once, despite being posed to bite down with vigour.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about what anyone else thinks of you and what anyone else thinks of me. I—”

“That’s not true,” you said, your turn to catch your breath, “You care so much about what Aizawa-sensei—”

“You know what I mean,” he said, shaking his head, hair falling out of his loose ponytail, “You think of me as me, and that’s all that matters. If you’re really that fucking worried about me getting into a relationship too early, go talk to my therapist. She says you’re good for me. A good influence, anyway.”

“Holy shit,” you said, mostly in reaction to how Tenko started trailing frantic, dry kisses down your neck, and, realising you should probably be doing something back, you rolled your hips, feeling awfully warm under the blanket.

He bucked back up into you, more out of desperation to keep you close over a need for friction but still giving you a taste of what it would be like to have him thrusting into you. “Fuck,” he said, almost grumbling, “I’d say fuck being ethical about it, because I’ve wanted you for a long time. I got hard when you shook me by the shoulders outside of that ice cream shop; I thought my soul was gonna leave my body when you adjusted my scarf. Hell, I—” He cut himself off, grinning in a way that, back before you knew him, you might have described as maniacal. “I wanted you back during the war. I saw you fucking elbow Touya during that battle, and the way you made him crumple to the ground was so fucking sexy. And you recovered from when he swiped at you so easily; you slipped around his attacks like it was fucking second nature. I thought it’d be cool to have you by my side, having you—” He realised what he was saying, and he relaxed, smile fading into a curious, pensive sort of look while he brought his thumb to your kiss-swollen lips. “And now I get to.”

You kissed the pad of his thumb, blinking slowly.

“So. Yeah,” he said, dropping his hand to your shoulder as he broke eye contact, a little red, “I think it’d be cool to be with you, even if we have to be careful.”

“That’s the thing, Tenko,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek as you gathered your thoughts, “I’m scared, because while I know that we should, because that’d be safe, I don’t want to be careful. Since I’ve quit being a hero, every single thing about how I’ve been living has left me feeling empty and alone, because it’s like I’m wandering through limbo. Everything screams that whatever I’m doing now is temporary, that it’ll pass, that I don’t truly belong in this situation, because I’ll find what I’m supposed to be doing later and my real home is somewhere down the line, but—fuck.” You rubbed your eye with your fist. “You, Tenko. You don’t feel temporary. You feel forever.”

Underneath you, Tenko stretched to pop a crick in his back, and he tilted his head to lie on the back of the couch. His ponytail had come loose, and his hair splayed against the fabric as he stared at you, one hand idly rubbing at your waist.

“Well. You’ve got to belong somewhere,” he said eventually, and he tapped all five fingers onto your thigh. “It could be with me.”

***

Dango was missing.

Incredible how the best evening of your life preceded the worst day you’ve had in years. You called out of work and spent hours scouring the dorm and then campus. A gruelling, miserable sort of day, anyway, grey and rainy and cold, and the campus was swarmed with people setting up for the scavenger hunt event later this month, populating the area with non-U.A. personnel and construction. Your cat was out in that mess, and you didn’t even know where to search first. It’s loud, scary, and wet, so Dango would most likely be hiding and not come when she’s called.

Had Dango escaped your flat? Had your stalker stolen her? Had she been confiscated by U.A.?

You couldn’t call any faculty for help; they’d get onto you for having an illegal cat on campus—and Hound Dog, the one who’d be the most help, might just scare her to death. Too early in the morning to call any of your friends, and you doubted they’d alter their busy schedules to help you out of a situation you should be able to fix yourself. But damn it, how come your own tracking skills only worked on people?

You shook yourself, coming out of your spiral the best you could, and you were close to hyperventilating. You sat down on a curb.

You found yourself calling Tenko, despite it being too early in the day for him to be out of training, filling with dread about never seeing your cat again and having to clear out her stuff from your room. Pulling your soaked jacket closer, you wiped at your nose and waited at the dial tone.

“Hey, I thought you couldn’t call during work. Miss me that much?”

The second you heard his strangely chipper voice, you started crying into the speaker.

He inhaled sharply, tone shifting. “Tell me who the fuck I’m stomping to death with my hooves.”

Ducking your head, you managed a smile but continued to fucking sob. “You don’t—don’t have to kill anyone, Ten—Tenko. I’ve f—fucked up.”

“What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m on cam—campus,” you said, unable to speak for a full sentence without having to cut yourself off to keep bawling, ugly and loud and getting snottier by the minute, “It’s my fucking fault that I haven’t been ta—taking my stupid sta—stalker seriously, and I should’ve reported it, but—but I—goddammit!” The rain picked up again, coming down in rapid, fat drops, and, shielding your eyes, you rubbed your phone screen on your sleeve, not that it did much. “Sor—sorry. Rain got heavier.”

“Where on campus?”

“No, Te—Tenko, I’ll get up. I’m coming to you,” you said, sniffling and pushing on your knees to stand, wet and hungry and ready to crawl into your sock drawer to sleep for days. “I—I’m just so fucking pissed at myself, because my cat is fucking lost, and I could’ve sto—stopped it if I hadn’t been so secreti—tive.” Hands shaking, you yanked your soaked hood over your head and trudged towards your dormitory, and you kicked gravel, rocks scattering over the path, before losing your footing on it and nearly falling. Fuck this.

“You have a cat,” said Tenko, losing his fervent. “What’s it look like?”

“Beautiful.”

“I need more than that.”

“She fucking—I based Ginseng’s cat form on her, okay? She’s this enormously fluffy thing, mostly whitish with a brown face and legs, and it makes her look like she’s wearing a mask and thigh-high socks like God’s sluttiest little jester,” you said, knocking on your dorm’s mailboxes for luck out of habit as you passed them, “And you can’t tell Aizawa-sensei about her, because if she’s taken away the moment I find her, then I—”

“I have her,” said Tenko, “She’s in my dorm with me.”

You ran the rest of the way to his room, panting and absolutely disgusting by the time you got there, and when Tenko opened his door, there was Dango, loafing on the back of the couch and watching raindrops race down the window.

“What the fuck,” you said, dropping your wet coat and toeing off your shoes, “How the hell did she get in here?”

Tenko shrugged and hung your coat next to his hoodie. “Can she open locked doors?”

“I hope to fuck she can’t,” you said, and you rounded the couch to wrap your arms around that dear little loaf, and Dango jumped off the couch to crawl underneath it before you could fully hug her. “Oh, good. She’s fine. Acting like normal.” You sat on the couch’s arm, adrenaline evaporating to render you boneless.

“She was in my room when I came back from training. We ended early today, since Aizawa-sensei has something.” Tenko stooped to yank two bottles of gatorade from their plastic rings and headed towards the sofa to offer one to you. “She didn’t seem upset or hurt. She’s been sitting there, napping on and off.”

You accepted it and twisted off the cap. “So, who put my cat in your room?”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“I don’t know,” you said, taking a shallow sip, careful not to overwhelm your agitated stomach, “They’d have to know about Dango in the first place, and I suppose my stalker would, since they’ve theoretically been breaking into my room.”

Tenko paused mid-sip, and he hastened to swallow. “Someone’s been breaking into your room?”

“Yeah,” you said, easing down the arm of the couch and onto its cushions, “I think. There’s no physical sign of entry, but my shit keeps going missing, and stuff that’s not mine keeps showing up. Let me tell you, I need some of that shit they’ve stolen; it’s hard to replace—”

Tenko touched your lips with three of his fingertips to quiet you, and he gestured for you to stay put while he scrambled over to his closet, where he stood on his toes to retrieve a wicker basket from the top shelf. He dropped the thing into your lap. “Are any of these yours?”

All of it was, missing things you blamed on everything from Dango to your stalker to your own forgetfulness: your favourite sweater, your trolley pass, lip balm, your shitty earbuds, your good pantyhose, your planner, your d10, and, among many smaller things, even that bright blue thong you’d lost in the wash (Well. It’s better to find your thong with your new boyfriend over finding them returned to your dorm coated in your stalker’s cum, you supposed).

“I was losing my goddamn mind,” Tenko was saying, “Stuff kept showing up. I thought it was a test at first—”

“I don’t have a stalker,” you said, absentmindedly rubbing the fabric of your thong between your fingers, “Your shit has been—you read that GINSENG TEA X LUSTFUL BALLSACK shit? Tenko.”

“Oh, you have that?” Tenko scratched the back of his neck, but not in his self-harm way; it reminded you of Shinsou’s nervous habit more than anything. “Haven’t you read it? Isn’t that what you were naming your characters after?”

“Ah, ha, ha. Moving on. What is important, though, is why and how this is happening to us.”

“Yeah, I don’t…”

The two of you spitballed for a while, long enough for the both of you to finish your bottles of gatorade and for Tenko to start another, and neither of you came up with anything substantial.

“Hell with it,” said Tenko, standing to stretch, his movement disturbing Dango from her nap in his basket of clean laundry, “Let’s go ask Aizawa-sensei.”

Aizawa was not pleased when he discovered the both of you waiting in his kitchen, but he listened to the story, and when you were done, he stepped out of the room to make a phone call. When he came back, he looked even more exhausted than when he’d first come in.

“I’ve just gotten off the phone with Sakura Grove,” said Aizawa, wincing when his bones creaked as he sat in his chair, “Tenko, do you remember villain in-fighting within the PLF? In particular, I’m asking if you remember breathing in a pink dust cloud. It would’ve been in Deika City, in the month between your fight with Re-Destro and your body modification surgery. If our sources are accurate, you would’ve been with Touya.”

Tenko scrunched up his face. “Why would I have been—hm.” Frowning, he reached into the bag of popcorn you’d commandeered from Aizawa’s cupboards. “I know what you’re talking about. They were only letting me eat healthy stuff in the week before I went under. Touya was taking me to scrounge for something salty and shitty for me, because I couldn’t take it anymore. He started hitting on someone he thought was a waitress, and she—this is why I remember it—she compared the width of her hand to his thigh and said no thanks.”

“That’s Ito,” said Aizawa, sighing and crossing his arms, settling his chin into his capture weapon, “When did she use her quirk?”

“She shoved her hand on Touya’s face when he opened his stupid mouth again, and he passed out with swarming, pink particles floating around his head. She turned to me—and she must not have recognised Touya, but she knew me, because her face lit the fuck up. She never touched me, but I remember having to sneeze.”

“She never told you what her quirk did?”

“I woke back up in the PLF headquarters. I assumed whoever picked me up had killed her and that her death negated any effects.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why? What does it do?”

Aizawa let out a soft laugh, muffled through his capture weapon, and he jerked his head in your direction. “You tell him,” he said, snatching the bag of popcorn and heading towards his bedroom.

***

He’d been nervous about wearing a suit. They reminded him of AFO.

But you’d strayed away from dark colours and too much structure, so his light greyish-blue suit jacket stayed unbuttoned even as you leant across to the passenger seat to adjust his All Might tie for him (a Put Your Hands Up Radio tie had been offered, but Tenko had already closed his fist around the striped tie Midoriya would loan him). Part of his bangs had been pinned back to show off his annoyingly handsome face, especially in how his sharp, red eyes observed caught every movement of your terrible attempt to tie the tie based on the pictures Aizawa had sent you.

“We’re not gonna be late, are we?” Tenko drawled out, the corner of his mouth quirking upward, hand resting on the car ceiling as he angled his chest towards you.

“Shush; we are in the parking lot,” you said, looping the larger end. Or were you supposed to be looping the smaller one? “Besides, the world won’t end if we’re a few minutes late to my class’s annual reunion.”

A flimsy excuse for a party, one made because hero agencies needed some sort of named event as an excuse to dismiss your friends en masse. But it was spring again, and they were coming out of the winter blues, and they wanted to see you again, so, hey, why don’t we work something in around your schedule? If you can’t come to this date, then we’ll reschedule it until you can.

And, like. They knew. They knew Tenko was your soulmate. You suspected they all wanted to see what he was like now, too, because no one but Shinsou, Midoriya, and, apparently, Bakugou had known.

You undid the loose knot and tried again. “Are you nervous?”

“No,” he said, scrutinising the tacky balloons and streamers swaying in the night breeze outside of the otherwise intimidatingly elegant venue, “but those kids might be.”

“Those kids happen to be friends my age,” you said, “and I’m barely younger than you are. They know you’re coming. You’re fine.”

Tenko sucked in through his teeth, tapping the roof of the car one finger at a time. “The last time they saw me was as a thing. An object of destruction.”

“Well, they’ll definitely see you as a human person when I spill how you designed a unicorn DND character for Eri.” You pulled the fabric taut but kept it from lying closely to his neck (a boy didn’t like feeling constrained). “You know what? This tie is as good as it’s gonna get.”

He ducked his chin to examine its knot. “It’s shit.”

“It adds to your devil-may-care, reformed-bad-boy sort of charm,” you said, giving the tie a final smooth-down and poorly suppressing your smile when you felt his muscles through his shirt. “Mathematically, there are only 85 ways to tie a standard tie knot. I don’t believe we’ve reached any of them.”

“How do you know these things? You’re unbeliev—” Tenko jerked his face out of view of the window as Aoyama and Kouda, gesturing wildly, strode past the car and into the venue. “Listen,” he said, clearing his throat, “I know I don’t care and that you don’t care, but other people will. Your reputation is gonna plummet right into its grave if we’re out in the open together.”

You shook your head, letting your smile show. “So, I fucked part of a rescue job almost a year ago. So what. So I’m dating my soulmate. Am I supposed to do otherwise? Honestly, Tenko,” you said, curling loose strands of hair behind his ear, letting your fingers linger around his cheek and neck (he leant into the touch), “I don’t care. I would’ve chosen you even without the soulmate bond. You’re too endearing to pass by. You’re too…babygirl.”

Tenko had been guiding your hand to his mouth, and he snorted before it got there, warm air scattering in a short burst. “Don’t call me that,” he said, pressing his lips to the centre of your palm and waiting until you met his gaze to retract them.

A different warmth shot to your lower stomach, but you had to keep pressing, for the sake of the bit. “Oh, then what should I—darling? Honey? Pookie bear?”

He scoffed and nipped at your pinkie. “None of those are good.”

“Tenko.”

He breathed in, shoulders rising, eyes fluttering shut. Taking a moment to kiss the tiny bite mark on your finger. “Yeah,” he said, opening his eyes in a slow blink, catlike, “Feels good. Feels—like coming home.”

Beaming, you reached down to lace his fingers through yours. All five of them squeezed back. “Then let’s go.”

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz, @kissmebakugou, @pachiibatt, @celestair, @tiredkittykat, @cheshireshiya, @90s-belladonna, @infjsnightmare

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[ickyblickyy]

★彡 EXPLOSIVE HEARTS 彡★

pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

sypnosis: upon losing feelings for your boyfriend monoma, you start developing a new attraction towards the football team's quarterback. the only problem is, you two have never met. but that's where your bestest friends come in.

two | series m.list | four

THREE. undying love

NOVEMBER 27TH

1:47 PM

you hear the ring of the bell as soon as you and your friends enter the cozy cafe that recently opened up. it was cute; baby blue colored walls decorated with fairy lights and soft music playing in the background. the space gave you peace of mind, taking away all the stress that was bubbling up deep inside you.

you all made your way to a booth that was big enough to accommodate all six of you. after getting yourselves situated, you found yourself sitting in between shinsou and todoroki with midoriya sitting in front of you, uraraka and iida on either side of him.

you noticed a menu on the table and picked it up. you looked through the menu and decided on what you wanted, spicy ramen and strawberry boba. everyone took their turn looking through the menu and after several minutes, everyone knew what they wanted to order. midoriya and uraraka offered to go make the orders in line while the rest of you stayed back, to which you all agreed.

“so,” shinsou started, breaking the silence and turning to look at you. you look at him with a raise of your eyebrows, indicating that you were listening.

“when are you going to confess your undying love to bakugou?” shinsou asked, smirking at the way your nose scrunched up and the very obvious blush creeping onto your face.

“hitoshi, be serious. we don’t even know each other,” you replied, rolling your eyes as your best friend attempted to wriggle his eyebrows, making him look dumb.

“if you wanted to, you could get to know him, l/n,” iida said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“yeah, one of these days you two are bound to talk since we’re friends with his friends,” shinsou added.

“yeah, but—” you started before todoroki cut you off.

“speak of the devil,” the boy said and you all looked over to where his gaze was pointed at. a pink-haired girl with four guys following behind her was approaching your table, all of whom you were familiar with due to having at least one class with them.

however, one guy in particular caught your eye; his spiky ash-blond hair and his piercing red gaze were pleasing to the eye. you thought his eyes were the prettiest thing ever (that’s a lie—even though you liked bakugou’s eyes, no one could compete with the beauty of todoroki’s eyes).

shinsou smirked when he saw exactly who your eyes landed on first and started obnoxiously nudging your side with his elbow. you looked at him with creased eyebrows before lightly slapping his arm, muttering something along the lines of how he needed to behave for once.

“hey, guys!” mina exclaimed, stopping by your table.

“hey, mina!” you smiled at her, always pleased to see your happy-go-lucky friend. you liked that about mina, she always brought positivity into your life.

“these are my friends. i’m sure you know them,” mina said, pointing to the boys behind her. the boys you recognized as kirishima, kaminari, and sero all greeted you while bakugou stayed silent.

“hey, boys,” you said back, not noticing the way bakugou’s eyes landed on you.

“d’ya mind if we sit with you guys?” kirishima asked, scratching the back of his neck. “the place is real packed and there’s no tables left.”

“of course, kirishima! the more the merrier!” iida exclaimed, scooting over to make space for the group.

“this’ll be a great opportunity to catch up, won’t it?” shinsou asked with a smirk on his face, subtly winking at you.

and this is how you found yourself sitting between shinsou and todoroki once again. however, now there was kaminari on shinsou’s left and sero next to kaminari. across from sero was uraraka with midoriya on her right and bakugou on his right. next to bakugou was kirishima, mina, and iida. it was a pretty packed table, but you didn’t mind at all.

what you did mind was that somehow, bakugou ended up across from you. shinsou was having the time of his life watching your reactions every time you and bakugou made eye contact by accident.

when your food came, you were delighted, having been ready to eat since you left the dorms. as you were sipping on your boba, you heard bakugou kiss his teeth which made you look up at him.

“what’s wrong?” kirishima asked, a concerned expression on his face.

“they got my fuckin’ order wrong. i asked for spicy ramen and they gave me katsudon,” bakugou replied with an obviously annoyed tone. “how the fuck do you even mix that up?”

you don’t know what came over you, nor do you care to even understand, but a surge of confidence suddenly bursts through you. you pushed your untouched bowl of spicy ramen towards bakugou before speaking.

“you can have mine.”

everyone paused to look at you, only your friends staring at you in utter shock. you would never willingly give someone your food, even if it was just a trade. shinsou and todorki shared a knowing look before shinsou started smirking, causing todoroki to roll his eyes.

“nah, it’s fine, l/n. we don’t want to trouble you, especially after invading your hangout,” kirishima said, furrowing his eyebrows. “we can just fix his order.”

“no, really, it’s fine. the line is long anyway,” you said, pointing to the line behind your table for emphasis. “we can just switch and finally enjoy our food in peace.”

kirishima looked at bakugou who just sat in silence, staring at y/n. kirishima didn’t miss the blush spreading across bakugou’s cheeks either. he just nodded at you with a smile on his face and started digging in.

you finally looked at bakugou again and he quickly looked away, trying to hide the blush he knew was on his face. he pushed his bowl towards you and said, “thanks or whatever.”

you smiled softly at him before you took the bowl and immediately started eating. soon after, everyone was immersed in their own conversations while enjoying their food. bakugou couldn’t keep his eyes off of you which didn’t go unnoticed by everyone besides you.

as you were talking to shinsou and scrolling through instagram, you suddenly got a text from one of your cheer sisters that read, ‘bro wtf’, followed by a picture. you stopped talking and furrowed your eyebrows which caught shinsou’s attention. he looked down at your phone to see what made you stop, but as soon as you clicked the message, the smirk that was always etched onto his face dropped to a frown.

the picture that she sent made your heart drop to your stomach. it was a picture of monoma making out with a girl that was sitting on his lap. midoriya had noticed your mood switch even though he was a little far from you. he had caught shinsou’s eye and had silently asked what was wrong. shinsou mouthed, ‘monoma’, and midoriya frowned.

with a tilt of his head towards the door, midoriya silently asked shinsou to console you elsewhere, knowing full well how you felt about showing your vulnerability around people. shinsou nodded before tugging on your sleeve.

“guys, ‘m gonna take y/n back to her dorm. she’s not feeling well,” shinsou said. he turned to look at kaminari and sero and they silently got up to let you and shinsou go.

“aww, feel better, babe,” mina pouted as she watched you pick your boba up. “i’ll see you back at the dorms later.”

you mumbled a ‘thanks’ before you got up to leave with shinsou. however, bakugou suddenly stopped you with a call of your name. everyone, besides you, raised their eyebrows in confusion at bakugou. he never called anyone by their name upon first meeting them, usually making up some nickname for them based off of their appearance.

bakugou held his hand out towards you with money in it. you tilted your head to the side before asking, “what’s this for?”

“for the food,” bakugou huffed.

you chuckled before putting your hands up in a defensive manner. “it’s fine! our food was the same amount of money anyways. you don’t owe m—”

bakugou cut you off with a glare, “just take it before i change my mind.”

you nodded sheepishly and took the money before thanking him. after that encounter, you and shinsou bid your friends goodbye before walking out of the cafe.

todoroki noticed something that no one else did. he saw the way bakugou’s growing annoyance faded away into a little frown as he watched you and shinsou leave. it wasn’t his usual frown that he kept on his face everywhere he went, no, it was much deeper than that.

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© ickyblickyy 2023 please do not steal, copy, or repost my work onto other platforms.

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[lovelyiida]

OFF ➤ EJIRO KIRISHIMA X FEM! READER 🜚

“why are you wearing that fugly hat?“

➜ masterlist

➜ tag form

➜ words: 1.3K

➜ WARNINGS: mention of boobs, insecurities, unhealthy awareness of self-image, fluff

You were frustrated.

"Have you guys seen Ejiro?" you asked, your breath staggered as you tried to catch it. You had been searching the school for him for the past 30 minutes with no luck.

"How are we supposed to know where your man is?" said Monoma. It was true; you were standing inside class 1-B's room during lunch break.

"Just asking, if you see him, please tell him I've been looking for him!" you yelled out as you rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

Corridor? No.

Lunchroom? Nope.

Boys locker room? Not worth it.

Practice area? Nada.

Huffing out a breath, you staggered into class 1-A and collapsed in your seat. Placing your head down, you let out a frustrated groan.

"What's the matter with you?" Sero chuckled in curiosity. Snapping your head up, you sent him a death glare before he raised his hands in defense with a smirk.

"Are you gonna tell me or what?" he questioned.

"I'm looking for Ejiro! It's like he's not even in this school. Did he go missing, and you guys are all in on it?" you accused Sero with a frown. Sero scratched the back of his head in confusion at your outlandish accusation.

"Nah, but I might have a clue where he went—"

"Where?" you yelled.

Sero flinched at your words before delving his hands deep into his pockets. "Well, y'know, we were in class and chatting it up. Next thing he knows, he's looking up into space and starts freaking out. Like he saw a ghost or something."

You furrowed your brows at his words. That doesn't sound like something Ejiro would ever do.

"Well, where is he?" Your voice softened as you became concerned. Anxiety started to fill your chest as you began to think of the worst.

Was he hit with some quirk?

Did he see a threat no one else could?

Did he go crazy due to consuming today's mystery meat special at lunch?

"He said he needed to go back to the dorms and didn't tell us why… he just ran off," he said nonchalantly.

"Dorms… why didn't I think of that?"

Packing up your things, you asked Sero to tell Aizawa you were excusing yourself from class. As you took your leave, you traversed back to the 1-A dorms.

Entering the dorms, you plopped your things down on the floor and walked toward Ejiro's dorm. As you enter Ejiro's dorm, you find the door slightly ajar. Your worry heightened, and you pushed the door open gently. The room was dimly lit, and Ejiro was sitting on his bed, staring blankly into space.

"Ejiro, what happened?" you asked, concern lacing your voice. He didn't respond immediately, but after a moment, he turned to look at you with a distant expression.

"I... I don't know. Something's not right," he mumbled, his usual upbeat demeanor replaced by a sense of unease.

Sitting beside him, you tried to make sense of the situation. "Did something trigger this? Did you see or experience something unusual?"

But all your questions dissipated when you looked up…

"Why are you wearing that fugly hat?" Your face contorted into a grimace as you gazed at the fleeced children's All Might hat.

Ejiro hesitated before speaking, pulling the hat down even lower than before. "If I show you, you have to promise me that you won't laugh." As he spoke, it became clear that whatever he had witnessed had deeply unsettled him. His gaze was haunted, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story.

"Ejiro…" you trailed, growing increasingly worried. You shuffled closer to him, placing a warm hand on his knee as you looked into his eyes.

"I promise."

Ejiro looked at you with a quivering lip. "Okay." His hands trembled as he reached for the childish hat. You watched as tears began to streak down his face as he ripped off the hat. Blinking at the sight before you, you furrowed your brows. "Ejiro… baby, what am I supposed to be looking at?" you asked.

"You can't see?" Ejiro soon rises from his bed, flicking on the lights in his room. Walking back over, he plops back down in his seat and draws closer to you. Pulling at his locks, he earnestly implores you to inspect his hair. Leaning in closer, your eyes shift around, still confused.

"I—I don't see anything, babe," you stammer. As you shift back upward, a perplexed expression clouds your features. You begin to wonder if your boyfriend is truly going crazy. The redhead scoffs, frustration etched across his face, as he grabs his phone and clicks on his flashlight. "See? Right there!" he exclaims. Intrigued, you lean back forward to scrutinize the concentrated area.

Bingo. A single strand of hair.

"Are you talking about this strand of hair, Eji?" you lean forward and raise your hand to pluck it out. "M'yeah," Ejiro mumbles, eyes welling up with tears once more. "J-just pluck it out!" he panics, and you flinch at his words, swiftly removing the errant strand. Holding the hair in your hand, you closely examine it.

It's black?

"Ejiro… it's just black," you attempt to reassure your boyfriend, but he shakes his head. "But I just dyed my hair last week! It can't be coming in this early," he frets. Turning your head to the side, you speak.

"I didn't know you dyed your hair," you admit.

Ejiro frowns, studying your reaction. "I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't," he sighs, defeated. "When my hair is red, I feel the most manly, like I'm someone bigger than myself. I'm able to embody this character that I'm genuinely proud of."

Your disbelief deepens as you sit in the deepness of his newfound vulnerability.

"But when I'm that," he points at your hand in disgust.

"I'm just me… some loser that no one will ever like—"

"Ejiro," you say firmly.

Standing up, you reach for him. As he leans into your embrace, you caress his frame. Softly tracing circles on his back, leading up to his shoulders, you then tangle your fingers through his locks. Ejiro flinches, his shoulders tense up as you lightly tug at his hair.

"Listen to me when I say this," pulling away, you slide your fingers from his scalp and trace your hands along his jaw, cupping his cheeks. "I don't care who you are now or what you used to be; what I know is that I love you for you. No matter what you show me or what you think will drive me away from you; it won't."

Looking deeply into his eyes, you watch as he lets out an exasperated sigh.

Ejiro leans his head into your tender touch, "But—I lied to you," he mumbles. "Okay? Ejiro, you're just like any other person on this planet; you're allowed to keep things from me that you think I shouldn't." You give him a reassuring smile, "you deserve to have a sense of humanity like everyone else" you chuckled.

The redhead lets out a dry chuckle, "But this is like you telling me that one of your boobs is purple or something," he tries to tell a joke, but you give him a confused look. "Not exactly…" you trail off.

"Okay."

Both of you chuckle at his words. Leaning into his touch, you embrace him in a tight hug. "Y'know… I'd bet you'd look super hot with your hair all black," you muffle into the crook of his neck. Ejiro soon unravels from your grasp, an unreadable look etched over his face.

"Ya think?" he says with a small smirk. You hum in response. Ejiro looks up for a moment, pondering your response. Tightening his grip on your waist, he pulls you in, closing the gap between both of you with a quick peck.

"I'll think about it."

TAG LIST:

❥: @xo-evangeline, @nar00, @king-dynamight, @gold24fish, @lovra974 , @bakugospartner, @gaby-11, @akqsa-xxi, @jolynegf, @goldenglow149, @aliruuiz, @zukowantshishonourback, @ilovedenk-i, @atsushiki, @smolbeanzzz, @lem-hhn, @stevenknightmarc, @ryumiii, @idontevenknowlolls, @lyn07, @kennshifts, @ackerman-suck-3-r, @elegantvoids, @thecurlyhairedgoddess, @sunyrose, @thisbicc, @thekookiecorner, @snxwycloud, @skylardarling, @cosmic-rainstorm, @venus-xxoo, @iluv-ace, @yoonievrse , @chixkadee, @starxsage

#lovelyiida #lovelyiida—ejiro #mha headcanons #mha #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha insert #mha fanfiction #kirishima ejiro x reader #kirishima ejirou #kirishima x y/n #kirishima headcanon #kirishima x you #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima fluff #bnha eijiro kirishima

[faulty-writes]

Hii! I apologize if you keep getting notifications from me at such an hour but I cant get enough of your posts! I love the way you write Tenya!

So if I may trouble you just a bit longer…

Since it’s spooky season, what would your take be on vampire Tenya x f (or gn) reader? And vampire Monoma as well?

[ Oh I like trouble, trust me. Haha. Thank you. I swear I get so many compliments regarding how I write Tenya, makes me so proud of myself. One spooky season request coming up! ]

Despite being what many assumed was a "blood-sucking" creature, Tenya had a sense of elegance and self-discipline because of his upbringing. Yes, he was what most would refer to as a "rich kid" but he was not spoiled in any capacity and often adhered to his own rules which included having manners even when thirsty for blood.

Most found Tenya to be intimidating, but you found him intriguing despite initially being unaware of his true nature. The two of you met in a bookstore late at night and you recall the way he stumbled when he rounded the corner of a bookshelf to find you and the way he bowed and said "Pardon, I was unaware there was another frequenting this shop so late at night."

The two of you began to meet frequently at the bookstore after that, and although you thought it peculiar Tenya only requested to meet you at night. You assumed it was because he was busy during the day but in all truth, he was struggling to avoid revealing his true nature to you and feared that once you found out he was a vampire you'd…well you would not want to see him again.

He slipped one night, after pushing himself too far. Yes, self-control was essential. But one could only contain themselves for so long and vampires were particularly dangerous when deprived of blood. "I…I apologize I…I did not wish for you to see me as such a…monster," while initially a shock, you tried to be accepting and understanding of what he was.

Being the person you were, his vampiric world fascinated you, and he didn't hesitate to teach you about the history of his lineage or his nightly rituals which typically included performing a series of prayers, chants, and such before he drank whatever blood he had managed to obtain.

Unfortunately, Tenya also informed you of the dangerous side of his world. Mostly the rogue vampires who strayed from the societal rules of their world and killed or injured humans during their bloodlust. "I promise, I will not allow harm to come to you. Ensuring your safety is quite a priority." Yes…he would go to whatever lengths he needed to ensure you remained by his side.

To double ensure your safety, Tenya presented you with gifts frequently. Usually, these consisted of protective charms, blessed holy water, and amulets that were believed to ward off bad supernatural threats. Of course, he would never tell you the hoops he had to go through to get such gifts.

Sometimes it was hard to keep up with Tenya's schedule considering he was more active at night. But he assured you that he enjoyed your company and often insisted that you could rest when you appeared extremely tired. Waking up in his bed or falling asleep against his shoulder became a frequent occurrence for you.

His parents were hesitant to accept you and your growing relationship with their son. On the other hand, his brother, Tensei welcomed you with open arms. "It's awesome that my little bro finally found someone! And just to let you know, it doesn't matter if you're human, another vampire, or even a witch. I believe that people who look past such things are the coolest!" It was safe to assume that Tenya got his beliefs from Tensei.

"I believe with enough effort, we may eliminate the prejudice that separates our societies to coexist together in harmony," one of Tenya's deepest wishes was to break the barriers between his and your kind. Although he had not intended to feel affection for you, he did. Yet, he looked at it as the first step to uniting your kind as he dreamed.

Neito, unfortunately, was out of blood and sought to get it fresh from an unsuspecting human. That human happened to be you and he was only attracted to you because of the intoxicating scent of your blood. However, he quickly found that you were not a frail human and stood your ground far more than he expected.

While some would be embarrassed, Neito remained his ignorant self after realizing you were quite the troublesome individual. "How dare you reject me! I am Neito Monoma, and I demand you provide me with your blood!" As far as you were concerned, underneath his vampiric nature was nothing more than a spoiled child and you were prepared to discipline him as needed.

He continued to stalk you, despite finding alternative blood donors because as much as he hated to admit it, he found you intriguing. For a human that is, and used his sharp wit accompanied by playful banter whenever you caught him in his stalking efforts. "Surely you didn't think I'd leave you alone, oh no my dear, quite the opposite. I do not stop until I get what I want and what I want is your blood," and your affection, but he kept that to himself.

Your opinion of him didn't change until you were attacked by another one of his kind. Your guard was down initially because you had mistaken them for Neito, and despite your skills, you were losing the fight until he showed up and saved you. He'd be damned if he let another taste your blood before he got the chance to.

You detested the idea of letting him finally drink from you but considering his courageous actions. You allowed him the opportunity and found that he was surprisingly gentle when feeding from you. "Surely you didn't compare me to such monsters as that rouge one who attempted to take what is mine, how insulting. I pride myself in presentation and manners," he stated, acting just a touch too offended.

Despite not letting many people in, the two of you continued to spend time together, and Neito began to reveal his past. How he came from a high-class family, their rather…unbelievable expectations of him, and how he wishes to break free and prove his own worth to the world. Of course, that was a challenge given the current state of discrimination toward his kind, but he was still determined to do whatever he could to make his dream come true.

He finds himself feeling peaceful when in your presence and this was new to him and something that gave him a sense of belonging. It was almost as if being in your presence kept his demons at bay and he partially wondered if you wore any protection symbols or amulets on your person.

On occasion, Neito would still struggle with the affection he felt for you and his nature. Vampires were strong, drank blood, and didn't hesitate to do what they wanted to obtain said blood. But even though he knew you would allow him to drink from you. He found that he didn't want to cause you any harm and thus the conflict continued but he kept this a secret from you.

Eventually, Neito agreed to allow you to meet his family. Although it was immediately apparent, they detested you merely because you were human and spoke ill of Neito for befriending and furthermore feeling the way he did toward you. "Humans are meant to be our food source, nothing more," they said which caused Neito to argue with them before ultimately dragging you out the door.

Despite your unusual relationship, Neito viewed it as fulfilling his commitment to protect and cherish you for as long as you lived, and from what he understood, that was for a short time. He planned to propose to turn you but decided to wait to bring that up. For now, he'd enjoy your company.

#tenya x reader #neito x reader #iida x reader #monoma x reader #tenya x you #monoma x y/n #tenya x y/n #tenya x female reader #iida x male reader #iida x you #iida x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #neito x female reader #tenya iida x reader #faulty writes: tenya iida: 23 #faulty writes: tenya iida: headcanons: 23 #faulty writes: neito monoma: 23 #faulty writes: neito monoma: headcanons: 23

[serxinns]

Tipsy Trampoline!

Drunk kiribaku x roomie/aka reader

(I know I promise to do other fics but I really wanted to do this)

This was inspired by this fic, yuzuya ofc and Mina's Birthday party these were one of my all-time favorites on Tumblr and youtube back then and I still loved it!

It was Denki's 18th birthday and he decided to rent out the trampoline park for everyone to come and invited all class 1a and class 1b (and Shinsou)

You were getting ready to go wearing your rainbow kidcore clothes (can be a dress or pants whatever!) when you got a notification from one of your friends katsuki to pick you up

💣RagingChihuahua💥: you ready dumbass me and Shitty hair are about to pull up

Roomie✌️: Yep got my gift and everything!

💣RagingChihuahua💥: alright I see you don't im pulling up right now

You saw a car pulling up to your driveway through the window, so you grabbed your gifts and dashed outside, and went inside the car, seeing Kirishima in the backseat as well "Hey roomie how's it been!" Kiri said with a wide smile you smiled back giving him a fist bump and a hug "Amazing excited to finally have a break from schoolwork and hanging around with my buds!" Kiri blushed a bit while smiling "And chihuahua! I haven't seen you in a while how's it been those test aren't stressing you out aren't they?" katsuki grumbled at the stupid nickname you gave him "I told you to not call me that and of course not im punching those test straight in the fucking teeth!"

You giggled at his reaction and Katsuki blushed a bit and cleared his throat "Anyways are you ready did you get everything?" you nodded holding the gift in hand "Alright now the only reason im taking the two of you is because you're the most tolerable so you better not fucking act up in my car or you'll get thrown out in the damn street!!" you and kiri giggled at his emptyish threat "Dont worry man we won't do anything promise! You can trust us" Katsuki glared at the two of you while you and kiri looked "Innocently" at him with the invisible hovering angle wings and halo Katsuki grumbled something and started to engine and off to go to denkis party

Time skip of roomie and kiri making corny ass jokes while bakugo shouting at the both of you to shut the fuck up

The 3 of y'all made it after a 20 excruciating drive (for Bakugo) to the neon trampoline park where Denki, Mina, and Shinsou were waiting at the front the 3 of you got out to meet up with the trio "Hey man! Happy birthday!" kiri said to Denki while giving him a high five and a hug "Thanks! And those gifts look amazing! You can put the gifts at the table right there And can wait at the lobby for everyone else to come! And bakugo?! your giving ME a gift?! How thoughtful~" Denki said with a teasing smile "SHUT UP! I'm only giving you a gift cause it's your birthday that's it" katsuki yelled and rolled his eyes the 5 of you snickered at katsukis outburst which didn't make Katsuki any better so he stomped inside the building while you followed right behind him giving Denki another happy birthday

The 3 of you waited in the lobby with other of your classmates friends talking about how amazing this party gonna be a few minutes later when everyone was here Iida announced the rules of the party no arguing no playfighting blah blah but most importantly no drinking irresponsibly everyone agreed with the rules and off to play y'all went

The 1st thing you did was play dodgeball and it was WAR when it started on your team was you, kiri, Kendo Monoma, Komori, and more while on the other team were Bakugo, teru, Ochako, Jirou, You Shoji, and WWDB (World war dodgeball) began, Soft Foam balls were flying everywhere bakugo, jirou monoma and kendo was sniping everyone on each other while the rest of you were dodging for your LIVES you were using every one of your team members as a human shield to dodge bakugos hits and to survive until it was one on one everyone started cheering for you gulped while bakugo had an evil grin on his face

Bakugo was Throwing balls so hard every time they hit the wall making a loud bang you were screaming playfully and dodging them while Bakugo taunted you about losing already "GIVE UP ROOMIE YOUR CORNERED" you panted tried to dodge the balls but was determined you were gonna win it for the team "NEVER! GIVE ME YOUR BEST SHOT" Bakugo grinned at your words and grabbed a blue foam ball and threw you you dived into the trampoline behind you but your leg got hit with the ball just when bakugo was about to shout for victory the ball bounced hard and hit bakugo in the face

You won

Your team cheered while Bakugo's team died laughing at what they just saw not caring they lost Bakugo yelled out profanities and slowly turned his head to you, you gulped grinning sheepishly and waved, that was the final straw for bakugo, "YOUR DUMBASSES IS GONNA PAY FOR THAT" he ran towards you and kiri while the two of you screamed and dashed off running across the obstacles but this Blonde was hot on your trail so Kiri took your hand and dashed to the ball pit and dived right in there bakugo jumped in along with thev3 of you laughed until y'all realized the position your in

Kiri was on top of Bakugo while you were on top of Kiri the 3 of you blushed "I didn't know the 3 lovebirds were hanging out in the ball pit~" Shinso said grabbing his phone out and taking the picture of the 3 of you, Bakugo screamed at him to delete them while all of you deeply blushing quickly getting off of each other and looking away in embarrassment, "I'm gonna get a drink so I can forget this ever happens" Kiri said still blushing while helping bakugo up "Yea im getting thirsty anyway roomie you coming?" "I'll catch up with the 2 of you in a min im gonna play some arcade games!" "they're so Cute..." Kiri thought staring at the both of you but was quickly snapped out of it when Katsuki dragged him

*timeskip of you battling Momo, tsuyu and mina to see who gets more tickets*

Meanwhile at the bar sat A tipsy Denki, sero and hakagure messing with Bakugo and Kiri "Cmon blasty I know you want to~" "FUCK OFF DUNCE FACE I AINT DOING THE DRINKING COMPETITION" "Aw cmon what are you scared?!" Sero said making chicken noises Katsuki was getting tired of him so he snatched the drink off his hand and grabbed Kiri by the shirt collar "Fine but shitty hair is gonna join me as well to prove your stupid shitty drinking game" "U-Uh..Yea Sure! I'll join right by you bakugo" the 2 men grabbed the berr cans readying themselves hakagure counted them down "3...2...1 DRINK" and the 2 teams drank away grabbing beer cans after beer cans

Time skip cause idk im lazy lol

"I told you I got the most tickets! Kero* "Yeah yea k would've won if it weren't for that Stupid fishing game I would've gotten 10 more tickets to beat you" You tease punching her arm softly while she laughed "Aw Stop it you two we all did great plus you should've seen ochako with those basket skills they're amazing!" Ochako blushed a bit at Momo's statement "It wasn't that good guys I missed a few shots!" Whined ochako "A few?! Out of the 100 hoops you dunked?! You're a natural you gotta teach me" the 4 of you went to the lobby and sat on the sofa to chat more you grabbed a soda and sat the sofa

You were bored so you went to look for your boys you pushed through the crowd of drunk toddlers to see where they you were about to give up until you felt hands grabbing you from behind and pushing you closely to their chest you looked up to see it was kiri drunkenly smiling at you while wobbling a bit trying to steady himself "Roooomieeeee" he said while giggling like a child "how's it going having fu-*Hic* at the party!" you giggled trying not to laugh out loud at his face

"Yep seems like you were too where's bakugo I thought he was with you" Kiri stopped for a moment to think looking like a loading screen that was until a door was slammed open at the entrance

Oh shit it was aizawa

"Now which one of you fucking brats put a drawing of a dick on my car" Everyone including you froze Aizawa's red glowing eyes were glaring at everyone this happened for about a min until Denki slammed down a bottle screaming "SCATTER" Everyone ran in different directions you were grabbing on eljirou looking for an exit and fast until an arm dragged you and kiri wobbly but fast straight out the emergency exit it was katsuki

"Kats?" he stared down at you then at Kiri then continued to drag you into his car "I dive" he slurred struggling to put his keys in the car you grabbed Katsuki and pulled him into the back seat ignoring his angry protest you grabbed his keys and hit the engine and drove out of there

You drove to a star-glazing area to watch the stars for a while looking back seat you saw both Kiri and Katsuki knocked out in the back so you closed the door bringing the keys to yourself, and went to lay on the grass to watch the stars you close your eyes and relaxed not long after you felt 2 bodies laying beside you Katsuki in the middle while Kiri was on his left you were on his right, the 3 we're you were watching stars kiri was drunkenly laughing to himself while Akatsuki stayed focus curious you asked him a question "So Kats what are you gonna do after this" Katsuki stayed silent you assumed he was either ignoring you or passed out so you continued to watch the stars dancing in the Moonlight until an arm wrapped your neck around pulling you closer You blushed "gonna love you two someday...wanna confess" you were flushed at the moment unable to speak words or even comprehend what is going on Kiri was already knocked out but continuesnue

"Don't wanna lose ya so special.." Kiri joined in but in a slurred speech, then katsuki did you never forget it he leaned the both of you closer and kissed Kiri on the cheek 1st then you then he turned his head to you and said "Do tell him I did that" then passed out peacefully snoring

you were processing what the fuck just happen but looked down to see their peaceful snoring faces you kissed them both on the cheek and whispered "I love you too..." let's say that was the most memorable moment for the 3 of you

Bonus: when your parents got home they saw you Kiri and Bakugo cuddling on your bed and secretly took pictures in the morning

#bnha oneshots #bnha fluff #kiribaku x y/n #kiribaku x roomie #kiribaku x reader #mha x y/n #mha x gender neutral reader #yuzuya #Yuzuya kiribaku #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader

[ochoashusband]

Hii there! I saw this post and it’s really cool! and also your writing is very cool (since I think your posting writing content for a first time?) anyways, I’m here to request something and would you care if I sent in a matchup? Anyways, here I go!

Could I request (platonic) Class 1A with a Male! Reader who came from Iraq? And they also have Alastor’s Personality from Hazbin Hotel? And maybe the reason why his family moved from Iraq was because it was very dangerous to stay there because of his hometown?

Thank you and have a good day!

OMG SECOND REQUEST, LETS GOOO!!

I haven’t watched Hazbin Hotel, so I might not give you exactly what your looking for 😭 I read his personality description and he kinda reminds me of Monoma LOL

i’m also gonna do this in headcannon form!

CLASS 1A X MALE! READER W/ ALASTOR’S PERSONALITY!

okay, starting off i lowkey think some of the students would probably find you creepy 😭

since you’re always smiling and trying to act polite, I feel like Denki, or maybe Mineta would try to break your act

Once Mineta tried to break your act and he got his arm broken instead and nobody minded it because well.. it’s Mineta LMFAOO

After that nobody really messed with you, except for Monoma, I feel like Monoma and you would get along pretty well

Monoma and you would probably mess with other people and most likely bully one of the students 😭

I feel like halloween would be perfect for you, you can play all sorts of tricks on your class

Also the day of the sports festival, i feel like you would be laughing your ass off at the other students who lost LOL

You would probably point at them and laugh 😭

since you’re also from Iraq, Midoriya (also everyone else) would be pretty curious about you.

They would probably ask about your customs, and what language you speak

I feel like Mineta would probably say something like “Can you speak iraq?” because he doesn’t know what languages there are LMFAO

You would correct him by saying that it’s Mesopotamian Arabic (since it’s the most commonly spoken language in Iraq)

They would ask you about your hometown and why you chose to come to Japan, you would respond with the story of what happened in your hometown

Uraraka, jirou, iida, & Koda would try to comfort you about your hometown

Mineta, Denki, Kirishima would probably compliment you because you were brave to leave your hometown

Short story!!:

You where walking into the big gates of UA, after you finished the entrance exam you where lucky enough to have racked up a whole bunch of villain points! After a while you finally received a letter from UA stating that you got in to the hero course! The first day of school rolls around, You finally got your uniform on and was heading out the door. After a high walk and a bus ride you finally got to UA, where only the top get to be. If you remembered correctly, it stated that you where in class 1A, so you found your way there. You opened the large door, only to reveal a boy with green hair standing frozen in the doorway, a blond boy with his feet up on the desk, a boy with blue hair yelling at him, and the rest of the students watching. “Oh, now this won’t do!” You say as soon as you step in, “Why don’t you settle down now?” You asked the blue haired boy. “I will not! This kid is blatantly disrespecting UA by putting his feet up on the desk! We are in the top school of Japan! Show some respect!” The blue haired boy yelled out. “Now, now, no need to get all feisty with me,” You said as you grabbed him by his waist and twirled him around and pushed him onto a seat, “No need for all this wacky nonsense.” You say to the blue haired boy with an eerily smile. Everyone just stayed quiet, not saying a word as they stated at what was going on in their classroom. You heard the bell ring and the boy who was at the doorway finally sat down along with some other students, the day was ready to commence!

I hope this is okay!! Like i said, i haven’t watched hazbin hotel, so im not sure if i have you exactly what you hoped for, but i tried my best into making him with alastor’s personality!!

Also, thank you so much for requesting!!

#mha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x male reader #x male reader #x reader

[crowborn666-writes]

Hi hi! Angsty oneshot in which (gn) reader receives texts and other such "evidence" of Monoma cheating on them, and since they were beginning to grow a little distant due to work they believe it? You could make it end with fluff or angst, whichever you prefer- although fluff would be nice <333

I hope you're having a good day or night!

Misunderstanding

(Ohohohoh angst you say? Yes sir/ma’am. Hope I did alright, never written for Monoma before!)

Neito Monoma x Reader

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Romantic

Summary: You find evidence of Monoma cheating on you, or do you?

~~~~~~

Yet another text appeared on your phone, from Kendo again. She had been texting you frequently lately, sending you headlines of Neito supposedly out and about with a girl.

This time the text showed a picture of Neito, out by a coffee shop with the same girl from the headlines, along with a message from Kendo about how she has suspicions.

You chewed your lip, Neito had been away for longer hours lately…

Maybe he was…?

The click of the door lock caught your attention, Neito entering your home with a heavy sigh, his duffel bag plopped down by where you kept your shoes.

“Hello love.” He spoke warmly, smile faltering when he saw your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You glanced from him to your phone, frowning before holding it out. “Kendo has… sent me some texts… and I’m… worried…”

You saw something flicker in Neito’s eyes. “Kendo?”

He took your phone from your outstretched hand, reading through the texts she had sent you.

“This little—!” Neito turned away from the offending text conversation with a huff, his other hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Do you believe her?”

“Well…” your voice cracked with emotion, “you’ve been gone for longer hours… and you have been a big distant at home lately too…”

Neito sighed and run his hand through his hair, setting your phone down on the table. “Kendo’s liked me since UA days. I imagine she’s trying to break us apart. As for me being gone longer hours, there’s been more crime lately, but the press isn’t covering all of it so that’s why you haven’t heard much. And you know paparazzi, creating rumors and such, the girl in the headlines and pictures is a lesbian, love.”

You fell silent, nodding along slowly.

“As for being distant, I have no excuse, I should be spending time with you and I haven’t. And for that I’m sorry.” He took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “I’ll make it up to you and I promise you I only want you.”

“You promise?”

“With my whole heart. And if I’m lying you can personally rip it out of me.”

You burst into tears then, relief and admonishment filling you. An apology was on your tongue before Neito was pulling you into a kiss, wiping away your tears.

He breathed little “it’s okay”’s to your lips, wrapping you up in his arms. Your phone buzzed on the table, and Neito only held you tighter, pouring more of his love into your kiss.

#mha #bnha #mha x reader #fluff #bnha x reader #bnha fic #mha fic #gn!reader #bnha monoma #monoma x reader #mha monoma #monoma neito #monoma neito x reader

[subbyalbedo]

Kinktober Day 9 - BRAT TAMING with Neito Monoma

Dom!reader x sub!Monoma

~~~

Leaning back against the foot of the couch, you lazily grinned in the dim lighting as you and a few class 1B students played truth or dare.

“Alright, Monoma.” Kendo began, “Truth or Dare.”

Having already taken a dare that night, Monoma decided to go the other way. “Truth.”

Kendo smiled mischievously. “Who’s the dominant one in your relationship?” She looked between you and Monoma.

He rolled his eyes. “We just got together like a week ago, we haven’t done that shit yet.”

You cut in. “But if we do…”

“I’d be the dom.” Your eyes widened as you realized you both said that at the same time.

“Sure, pretty boy.” You sarcastically remarked at him. 

Monoma fully turned to face you, while Kendo just watched, giggling. “You really think you can dom me?”

You rolled your eyes at the audacity. “Why don’t I prove it. My room is right there.”

Monoma stood up. “Alright.” He kept his smug look on his face as you both made your way into your room.

You were already excited about what you could do to him. 

As soon as you got into your room, you spun around and pinned him against the door. His eyes flew open with surprise, but he quickly attempted to compose himself as you started roughly kissing up him neck.

Sucking a hickey onto the pale skin of him neck, you tilted his head up by his hair, and he let out a nearly silent whine.

“That the best you can do?” He panted, trying to act like you weren’t affecting him.

“Quiet. You’re just a brat.”

At these words, he decided he had let you take control for long enough. He pushes you away and onto the bed, the air leaving you for a moment as you fell with a huff.

You flared up at his form, radiating confidence as he climbed on top of you, taking off your shirt. You started unclothing him as well, needing to make sure you never gave up control of the situation. 

You make him believe he was in charge, but you were slowly turning things the way you wanted them.

Once you both were naked, he rolled off of you to lie back onto the bed. “Suck me off.”

Rolling you eyes, you flipped over so you were face to face with his dick. 

It was about average size, and he was already pretty hard. 

“If it’s really this easy to rile you up, we should’ve done this a while ago.”

He was about to make an angry retort when you quickly stroked him, and he snapped his mouth shut.

Licking a stripe up the bottom, he fisted the sheets of your bed in his hands. “Get on with it. Before I make you.” 

“Wow, you’re so scary. I better get to it.” You deadpanned, and he glared at you from the head of the bed, his face turning red. 

Taking him into your mouth fully, he let out a ‘fuck’ as you sucked at the tip lightly.

As you took him deeper, he started to let out groans, never really letting much noise out. 

He got close pretty fast, all it took were a couple minutes of sucking. You could feel him begin to twitch in your mouth.

As he got closer, he knew he had to keep him dominance, so he began to thrust into your mouth.

At the sudden movement, you began to choke, and you knew you had to get him back.

Your hands made their way to him waist, and pinned it down, keeping him still for you to regain control.

He was about to release, even with the restricted movement, but then you stopped.

Pulling off of him, he yelped at the cold hitting his member, the loss of stimulation, while you sat grinning above him.

“Why- why the fuck did you stop?” 

You suppressed a giggle at him, he looked so utterly pathetic.

“I’m just showing you that I’m in control here. You’re a brat. And the way you deal with brats is by breaking them.”

He gulped at your words, but he wasn’t backing down. “Stop acting like you can control me.”

You narrowed your eyes at his behavior. “You can’t come unless I say so. I’d suggest being nice, or you’ll be stuck like this all night.” 

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He was furious, and embarrassed, and so fucking horny. “Fine.” He mumbled.

You could barely hear his voice. He was bright red, and was looking at you grumpily. Cute. “Hmm? I couldn’t quite catch that.”

“Fucking fine. Just fuck me already.” 

You shook your head disappointedly. “And here I thought you’d be a good boy for me. Disappointing, but I guess a punishment is in order.”

He acted unaffected at your words. Deep down, be wanted to be your good boy. But his pride wouldn’t let him, so he settled for brat. 

As you climbed back on top of him, boxing him between your arms, you kissed him tenderly as your hand lightly ran down his side.

As your lips molded together, you took his cock back into your hand and stroked, smiling as he let out a groan into your mouth.

“There you go baby, let all your sounds out for me.”

He tried to hold back, but he openly moaned into your lips.

After you had stroked the precum around and gotten him ready, you took your hand away and started grinding languidly onto him.

He was panting into your mouth, and you let his cock catch on your entrance. 

Pulling away from his red lips, you stopped to admire him. He was flushed, with multiple hickeys along his shoulders and neck, and he was shaking slightly.

Brushing his hair from his face, you smiled down at him. “You want me to fuck you, Nei?” 

“No shit Sherlock.” Even after all of that, he was still bratty as ever.

“Uh uh, that’s not how we ask for things.” 

“I’m not a fucking five year old.”

“Well you sure fucking act like one.” You mimicked his tone. “Beg. Then I’ll fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

This little bitch. You quickly brought your hand up. 

Smack!

Monoma let out a yelp as you roughly slapped his thigh.

Slowly letting the head of his cock catch in your entrance again, you gained satisfaction as he sucked in a pained breath.

“You gonna beg, pretty boy?”

Glancing to the side, he gritted a painful sounding ‘please’.

“Now now, we’re done with brattiness. You can beg better than that.” Grinding down on his length again, he groaned out a louder ‘please!’

“Bit more, baby.” You sunk down a little bit.

“Please! Please please, I’ll be…good. I promise, just - fuck - please!”

You sunk all the way down. “Good boy, Neito.”

He let out a loud ‘fuck’, and quickly grabbed your waist. 

Quickly setting a fast pace, you watched as he fell apart, moaning like a slut, eyes falling shut.

Right before he came, you slightly slowed down. Not enough to stop his building orgasm, but enough for him to look at you in confusion. Were you going to stop again?

“Please, please let me~”

“Shh, Nei. I’ll let you cum, I just have a question for you.”

He wasn’t even fully listening, but he nodded quickly anyway.

“Who’s the dom here?”

Eyes widening, he looked at you. After a long while of hesitation, he gave in.

“You.”

Smiling at his obedience, you kissed him roughly. “Cum for me, good boy.”

“Fuck, y/n!” He came, back arching after his repressed orgasm, riding the waves of pleasure.

As he came down, he was a little grumpy that you beat him, but he let you cuddle into him and drift off.

~~~

The next morning:

As you and Monoma made your way out, you were greeted by Kendo.

“I guess you two figured out who the dom was.”

You smirked at her. “I’m probably helping with the narcissist issue.”

You two giggled as Monoma stomped away to sulk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The end! I kinda rushed that cause I wasn’t sure it would be ready in time, but I did it!  

Kinktober Masterlist Link

#dom reader #dom reader smut #sub character smut #smut #my hero academia #sub Monoma #Reader x monoma #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

[nights-legacy]

Rachel

Nickname ( honey

Toshinori Yagi( my hero academia

She

My chacter is a pro hero her hero name is siren her quirks are she has the ability to control men women and creatures and make them do whatever she wants and she can control water she teaches at the ua and her and Toshinori Yagi like eacthother she younger then him she around Aizawa age she bff with him and mic anyway her and toshinori dance around eacthother alot and act like a married couple but they don't start dateimg till after the league of villans attack usj center and Toshinori finally confess to her and they start rk date he treats her like a queen when he retires she stays being a hero until after the war with the league of villians when Toshinori ask her to marry him and she says yes and she tells him she also pregnant *

Here you go! I hope you like it!! 😁

Masterlist ~ MHA Masterlist ~ #2

Give You So Much More - All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem! Reader

1923 words

Warnings: none except slight spoilers if you haven't seen MHA. (If there is any, please let me know so I can add.)

+Yagi and Siren have played the cat and mouse game ever since they met. Yagi never made a move because he thought he was too much her senior. They flirt on the constant nothing ever comes until after the USJ incident. The scare motivates him to confess.

"Who do you think for class roasters?" I asked effectively starting the meeting. Deliberations started up. We were in the days between the Entrance Exam and announcing to the students about admission.

"I want Bakugou and Iida in 1-A, no question." Aizawa said. No one argued with him. We all made notes.

"What about Monoma Neito and Midoriya Izuku?" I asked. I saw Yagi perk up and looked at him. He hadn't shown that much interest in the whole time we've been sorting. I lightly kicked him for his attention. He looked at me and I raised my eyebrow in question. He gave me a smile and waved me off.

"I'll take Monoma. He's got a great quirk but needs some humbling." Vlad said. "I think Midoriya should be in 1-A."

"No." Aizawa denied immediately. Everyone made a complaint. I saw Yagi deflate a little.

"Aizawa, he had the highest rescue score. In all my years working here and when I went here, I don't ever remember someone getting a perfect in rescue." I defended the young man. I shared a look with Yagi. "Sure he didn't do well in combat but that can be taught. That can be learned. His fervor to rescue can't be. He has amazing potential."

"Siren..."

"No Aizawa. You need to give that kid a chance. He's got something special." I gave him a firm look. He sighed heavily.

"Fine. Midoriya is in class 1-A."

"Yes!" Mic cheered. There were others who gave sounds of excitement. I looked at Yagi and he looked relieved.

"Okay. Let's take a break." Nezu said. After a few minutes, I found Yagi outside. I walked up to him.

"Now tell me why I vouched for Midoriya so hard." I bumped my hip against his. He chuckled and looked at me.

"What do you mean?" He asked coyly.

"I mean, when he was mentioned you perked up and when Airawa said no, you deflated." I said. I poked his chest. He just smiled but he didn't answer. "Come on. Don't make me sing to make you tell me."

"Fine, fine." He glared playfully. "I just see something in young Midoriya. It kind of reminds me of a younger me."

"Uh huh..." I narrowed my eyes on him. He wasn't telling me everything. "Fine, don't tell me everything but I didn't lie when I vouched for him. I believe in him."

"Thank you." I nodded and turned to go back inside.

"You can thank me by buying me lunch."

"You got it!" He called after me.

*Time Skip*

After a long first day, I was alone in the teachers lounge. I was lazily stirring my tea free handed with my quirk. I was writing notes on the students' beginning progress. It wasn't the best for any of them but what do expect for a Criminal tactics and psychology class. I looked over my shoulder when the door opened.

"Hey there handsome." I said when I saw All Might. He smiled at me before in a poof, he was just Yagi again. "How was your first day?"

"It was decent." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Want some tea?" I ask. He nods. I got up and walked over to the cabinet to grab his favorite tea. "I can make it. You don't have to."

"It's fine." I said waving my hand at him. I waved my hand and water came from the facet into the kettle. I turned on the heat to start it. I went back to the table and grabbed my cup.

"How was your first day? How did they do in class?" He asked, stepping up closer as I leant against the side of the table. I took a drink of my tea.

"Only a handful of all of them had any idea of what my class was about." We chucked.

"Who were those few?"

"Todoroki, Iida. No surprise there." I laughed. "Monoma, Kuroiro... Oh, and surprisingly Kaminari." I said, glancing at my notes.

"Well at least you're not starting from scratch with everyone."

"You said it." I said. The kettle started to whistle. I set my cup down and walked over. I turned off the heat before realizing I didn't get a cup out. I sigh and open the cabinet. All the rest of the cups were on higher shelves. I stood on my tip toes to try and reach one. Before I could resort to climbing on the counter, a hand reached past mine and grabbed a cup.

"I got it." Yagi said softly behind me. I looked at him over my shoulder where he stood right behind me.

"Okay." I reached for his tea and handed it to him. He put it in the cup and I poured some hot water in his cup.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." We stared at each other for a moment. I bit my lip as my heart started to beat faster.

"You know, Rachel. I..."

"Siren!" Mic's voice echoed into the room and I sighed. Yagi coughed a little and stepped back. Mic and Aizawa walked into the teachers lounge. "Oh, hey All Might."

"Hi Mic." Yagi greeted before turning to fix up his tea. "Thanks for the Tea Rachel."

"No problem." I nodded and walked back over to the table. Yagi bid all of us goodbye before leaving the room. It was silent for a Minute.

"Sooo..."

"Don't even." I interrupted Mic. Aizawa laughed as Mic complained.

*Day of USJ incident*

The rest of the staff and I rushed towards the USJ. Upon hearing the story from Iida, we all jumped into action. After arriving, the main villains unfortunately got away. I had sung the remaining villains into custody and the police vans. I glanced over at the ambulance where All Might and Midoriya were at. I wanted to go check on him so bad but had a job to do.

"Go on." I turned to see Mic. "Go on and check on him. I know you need to."

"Fine. But only if you go with Aizawa." I say. He hesitated.

"Go you two. We got this." Midnight pushed us both in our respective direction. We didn't argue and ran off. Both Yagi and Midoriya were half conscious when I joined them in the ambulance. I accompanied them back to UA and I waited in the corner of the room until they were deemed stable and okay.

"You both are insane." I sat on a chair between them and propped my feet on the edge of Yagi's bed. "Being reckless with your quirk is almost identical in both of you."

"I, I, I. Um..." Midoriya started to stutter.

"Relax, Midoriya. I know about the quirk transfer."

"You do?!' Yagi asked surprised.

"Yes."

"How?!" Midoriya squeaked.

"I figured it out." I said. "I did a little research after the selection meeting. I wanted to know what was so special about you. To my surprise, you were quirkless until right after the Entrance exam. Then I studied your quirk from the footage and since then and noticed the similarities to a certain someone. Not to mention Aizawa being suspicious about you two and coming to me for my opinion."

"Oh..." I looked at Yagi.

"Also, All might here wasn't very sly about his concern and interest for you." I smirked at Yagi. He chuckled and nodded. "Don't worry your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you." They both said.

After a while, Midoriya was allowed to go home and it was just me and Yagi. It was silent as I made a phone call to check on Aizawa. I looked at Yagi to see him sipping of the tea I made him as I talked to Mic

"He's stable and resting." I said after hanging up the phone.

"Good." Yagi nodded. He looked off into space. I went and knelt next to him.

"What's on your mind?" I asked gently.

"That's the closest I have been to death since the accident." He said while placing a hand on his scar. "And all I could think about was making sure those kids were safe and how I never..." He trailed off.

"Never what?" I set my hand on his. He turned and looked me in the eye.

"Never told you how I truly felt about you." He admitted. I looked at him in anticipation, willing him to continue. "I have had feelings for you for a while. I was content with the flirting and dancing we have been doing. I never acted on my feelings because of our age difference and..." I cut him off by leaning up and kissing him. I felt him freeze for a second before returning the kiss.

"About time you said something. I was beginning to think it was just me." I admitted. He chuckles.

"Definitely not." He leant forward and kissed me sweetly. "Now how about after I heal up and rest, I take you on a proper date."

"Sounds amazing."

“I plan to give you so much, Honey.”

*Fast Forward*

I return home only to smell the familiar cologne in the foyer. I glance down to see Toshinori's shoes. I smiled and quickly kicked off my shoes to go find him. I found him on the balcony. He was just standing there with his eyes closed. I lean against the doorway.

"Darling?" I call out to him softly. He looks over at me and smiles.

"You're alright."

"Of course." I walked over and wrapped my arms around him. He pulls me into his side. "Everyone is. Maybe a little bruised and some with broken bones but we're all alive."

"Thank god." He buries his face in my hair. He sighed heavily. "It's over."

"Yes. At least for now."

"Yes." He nodded pulling back. "But I know the future is in good hands. Young Midoriya, Young Bakugou, and the rest will keep the world safe."

"I'm confident in them as well." I agreed. "Confident enough that I am thinking of retiring or reducing my time as a hero."

"Really?" He looked at me surprised.

"Yes. I've done my time. I'll continue to teach of course but I want to start a normal life." We stood there in silence before he pulled my chin up to kiss me.

"Honey?"

"Yes?"

"I have a question for you."

"Okay."

"Marry me?" He said simply. I was stunned for a second before smiling. I kissed him softly. I didn't care that it was a simple proposal. I didn't need an extravagant proposal from the man I love. I just need the man.

"I would love to. Yes." He smiled wide and hugged me tight. I chuckled and hugged him back.

"You've made me the happiest man alive, Honey." I nuzzled his neck.

"Toshinori."

"Yes?"

"There is another reason I'm cutting back on hero work."

"What is it?" He asked, giving me a questioning look. I could see the worry growing in his eyes and on his face. I chuckled.

"Well." I took his hand and placed it on my stomach. He looks between his hand and my eyes.

"Are you ..."

"Pregnant." I nodded. "I found out just before everything. I didn't have time to tell you."

"Oh my..." I saw tears fill his eyes and he set his forehead on my shoulder. He laughed. "I never thought I would have any of this."

"Now you do. And I plan to give you much more." He lifted his head and looked into my eyes.

"I love you Rachel."

"And I love you."

Tag List: @iris-shihabi @cl0verbby @lilparcheesie @keigos-baby-bird @evilunicorns4minions

#imagine #imagines #my hero academia #mha x reader #mha #mha imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia imagines #bnha #bnha imagines #mha x oc #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia x oc #bnha x reader #bnha x fem!reader #bnha x oc #yagi toshinori #toshinori yagi x reader #toshirori Yagi x you #all might #mha all might #all might x reader #all might x you #all might x oc #boku no hero imagines #all might imagine #Toshinori yagi imagine #boku no hero acadamia oc #my hero academia fanfiction #requested

[defectivevillain]

stardom

pairings (all separate, can be platonic or romantic): monoma x reader, shigaraki x reader, & shinso x reader

the characters are idols and you are their manager!

reader’s pronouns: he/him

author’s note: HELP I didn’t mean for this to be so long... oof. I love how it turned out, though <(￣︶￣)> 

[ao3 version]

part two (featuring bakugo, kirishima, and todoroki)

part three (featuring present mic and miruko)

Monoma Neito

Monoma is a bit difficult sometimes. He’s pretty unreadable, in your opinion. One moment, the idol will act like he hates you and the next, he’ll act as if you’re best friends. It gives you whiplash. You’re never quite sure where you stand with him.

It doesn’t help that you’re constantly at odds with one another. That’s just how your relationship works. You tell him to do something, he doesn’t do it, and you argue with him until he gives in and gets it done. It’s common practice, at this point. Even so, Monoma is always looking at you with contempt and taunting in his eyes. Therefore, the first time his expression doesn’t hold those things, you’re pretty surprised.

Today is like any other day, except it’s a bit more relaxed. Monoma doesn’t have much planned, thankfully, so you’re able to catch up on emails and scheduling. You’re nearly done with the emails when you realize that there’s a conflict. Ordinarily, you’d resolve it by yourself, but since Monoma isn’t busy, you figure you might as well ask him. You walk across the hall, into his “office,” only to find yourself staring at a camera. You inhale sharply and quickly turn around and exit the room. Unfortunately, you think that you walked into his livestream. Dread coils in your chest. 

Monoma explains that you’re his manager just as you leave, but you don't stay to hear anything else he says. Instead, you close the door to your own office and put your hands over your face. You just... royally fucked up. Heart racing, you wrap up any drafts and walk out quickly. The rest of your night is spent trying to forget what happened. 

The next morning, you’re kind of dreading going to work. When you find yourself standing before the company building, you take a deep breath and steel your nerves before entering. As always, it takes you several minutes to get all the way to your office- what with all of the security measures and identification checks. When you finally make it to Monoma’s designated area, you’re unsurprised to find him splayed out on the couch, looking at his phone.

“You’re trending on Twitter,” Monoma states in lieu of a greeting. He’s entirely nonchalant and relaxed. You, on the other hand, stare at him in disbelief and bewilderment. Upon noticing your confusion, Monoma tells you to open Twitter. Sure enough, the Twitter Trending page shows #Monoma’sManager as a trending tag.

“Why?” You can’t help but ask. Monoma silently hands you his phone. You squint down at it and click on the tag. To your surprise, the first few posts are pictures of you, from Monoma’s stream yesterday. They’re accompanied with memes and various comments, ranging from “AWOOGA” to “i want to marry him,” [to your confusion and distress].

You let out a strangled sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Damn it,” you mutter. Ignoring Monoma’s inquiring gaze, you start to pace about the room. It doesn’t take long for you to lose your patience. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Monoma squints at you, his gaze finally breaking away from his phone. There’s a complex expression on his face. “You didn’t even do anything. Besides, it was bound to happen eventually.”

“True,” you acquiesce, turning your attention back down to your phone. You exit out of the trending tag. Just as you’re about to close the application, another tag catches your eye. It reads... #MonoManager ...? You squint at it for a moment. What does that mean?  

“I’m guessing you’re looking at the other trending tag, then,” Monoma says, scratching at the back of his neck. He's acting awkwardly, to your surprise. You decide to scroll down the tag a bit to try to find out what it means.

One of the top posts is a minute long clip, evidently taken from the stream. Out of curiosity, you decide to play it. You cringe as you see yourself enter the room for a millisecond before quickly leaving. Somehow, the video doesn’t end there. Once you’re gone, Monoma looks at the camera and sighs.

“That’s just my manager,” he explains, bringing the camera close so he can evidently look at the chat messages. Knowing his typical view counts, you’re impressed that he’s able to read anything. Monoma’s eyebrows furrow. “‘He’s pretty.’ Hm, I guess so. ‘Is he nice?’ He’s not insufferable.” The video ends. For a moment, you stare at the black screen, your mind reeling.

“Wow, that’s high praise,” you eventually remark sarcastically. Monoma jolts and looks over at you. He runs a hand through his hair and goes to explain.

“Well-”

“Relax, I’m just joking,” you interject, before he can provide an explanation you don’t want to hear. Actually, you’re not pretty and I just said that to appeal to the fans. You’re very insufferable, honestly. You’re expecting a remark along those lines. You’re definitely not expecting his next statement. 

“I was being serious, for the most part,” Monoma remarks, crossing his arms over his chest. “You are handsome. And... you’re far from insufferable, if that’s any consolation.” He makes a strange huffing noise at the end of that statement. 

“Oh, thanks,” you reply habitually. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. Surprisingly, Monoma is the first one to break your eye contact, as he averts his eyes. Is that a blush rising on his cheeks? You raise your eyebrows and turn back to your phone, committing his flustered expression to memory. 

Shigaraki Tomura

Shigaraki is very immature. This is a fact you grow to recognize within a mere few days of working with him. You suppose it isn’t exactly his fault- he entered the music scene very early on and practically his entire childhood was spent on stage. Even so, Shigaraki acts so childish and petty sometimes that it makes you want to scream. 

You’ve had your fair share of difficult idols to work under, but Shigaraki definitely takes the cake. It’s nearly impossible for you to get him to do anything. You can’t even count the number of times you’ve had to reschedule meetings and interviews simply because Shigaraki didn’t want to go. 

Same as always, the idol is trying to shirk his duties and responsibilities. Today, each request you make of him is met with eye rolls and scoffs. One time, you think he even growls at you. You’re closer to your breaking point with each additional remark. Eventually, you just snap. 

“Are you trying to irritate me?” You hiss, slamming your hands down on the table. Shigaraki visibly startles, looking at you with bewilderment. You dig your nails into your palms and glare at him expectantly. He doesn’t provide an explanation.

“This is my job,” you sigh. “Whenever you mess around, it reflects badly upon me. I’ve tried so damn hard to be flexible, to give you the space that you need, but you’re starting to abuse it. Just as I have my job, you have yours. Going to interviews and talking to reporters is a part of your job. Hell, that’s exactly what you signed up for when you became an idol. So, please, for the love of everything, stop making my job harder!”

You don’t stay to hear his response. Your hands are trembling and you race out of the building. Your heart is pounding in your ears and the predominant feeling stewing in your chest is guilt. You hadn’t meant to yell at him, but his behavior had been getting to be too much. Shigaraki didn’t respond to any of your other conversations or your light suggestions. He ditched multiple interviews and important meetings today, and you had to be the one to make the apologetic phone calls after. Your anger slowly subsides until it is replaced with regret. You shouldn't have yelled at him, you think to yourself. You fall asleep that night wishing the day had never happened. 

Unsurprisingly, you’re anxious at the prospect of going to work the next day. Hell, you’re not even sure if you have work anymore. That little outburst could’ve easily gotten you fired. As you’re walking into the company building, your heart is racing and you keep your eyes firmly fixed on the ground below. 

Once you enter the office, you’re surprised to find that Shigaraki is nowhere to be found. You decide to open your laptop and get through some emails. An hour passes and, to your amazement, you’ve gotten through your company email’s flooded inbox. When you finally do see Shigaraki, you notice that his behavior is somehow even stranger than normal. Whenever you offer suggestions, he takes them without argument. He goes along with the day’s schedule without complaint. It throws you off, to the point where you have to pull him to the side after an event and ask if he’s alright. Of course, the idol scoffs the moment you ask. You glare at him and Shigaraki sighs.

“You’re right,” the idol sighs, scratching his neck in what you recognize as his nervous tick. You’re surprised that it’s coming out now, especially considering that you’re not particularly intimidating. Shigaraki takes a deep breath. “I was making it harder for you.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you about it; that didn’t help,” you blurt out, guilt stewing in your chest. You bite your lip and glance at the idol. Shigaraki’s eyes are ever so slightly widened and his lips are parted. It seems he hadn’t expected an apology. “I just- Please know that this is my job as much as yours. So... Let’s reset the game, yeah?” You extend a hand. Shigaraki stares at you with such intensity and fervor that your heart starts to race. You wonder if the video game analogy failed. After all, you’re not as good with video games as Shigaraki is. Just when you start to doubt yourself, the idol clasps your hand and shakes it once. There’s an appreciative gleam in his eyes as he does so. 

“New save file,” Shigaraki murmurs to himself. He then walks back over to where he was sitting. You look at him for a moment before shaking your head in fond exasperation. 

Shinso Hitoshi

cw: non-consensual touching [it’s a touch on the wrist & it’s not from Shinso, dw]

Shinso is easily the most companionable, down-to-earth idol you've ever worked with. He’s the perfect balance of wit and sarcasm. He’s never been rude or mean to you- which seems like the bare minimum, but idols can be surprisingly rude, as you’ve learned in past jobs. Most of all, Shinso is intensely relatable. He never acts pompous or cocky. He bemoans simple things like the weather outside or having to stay late for work. If you were to meet him on the street, you’d have no idea he were an idol. Perhaps that’s his strategy, you muse to yourself.

Unfortunately, you’re the only one who seems to think so. Practically everywhere he goes, Shinso is recognized as an idol. Hell, the man can hardly go to the grocery store without getting requests for autographs and pictures. It must be exhausting, you muse. The idol often wears a hat and a mask- at minimum- whenever he goes out in public. Even then, wayward fans will sometimes stop him. 

You’ve grown accustomed to acting as a sort of usher to Shinso. He has legitimate bodyguards, yes, but they’re not always there. Furthermore, some fans can be determined as hell... You shudder at the thought. 

You’re once again reminded by the intensity of Shinso’s fans when you’re stepping out of the car and returning to the company building. Thankfully, you had the hindsight to request bodyguards to escort him back. It’s a good thing you did, because the car is nearly swarmed on all sides by screaming fans. The concept of intruding on private property doesn’t seem to dissuade any of the fans, as they continue to yell. 

You walk at a distance away from Shinso, fully intent on staying back. Unfortunately, the walk up to the building is rather long. You’re usually of the opinion that it looks nice. Today, though, you can’t help but hate it. The entrance feels so far away now. You trudge along, keeping your head down and resolutely moving on. Ironically, karma seems to strike you instantly. You're roughly tugged to the side. There's a hand latched around your wrist. The fan holding you is saying something, but you can’t quite understand it. You try to shake off their grip, but somehow their hand is still digging into your arm. It’s suddenly a bit harder to breathe. Your thoughts are spiraling and you’re about to cry when a voice cuts through the chaos. 

“Hey, stop.” You recognize the voice to be Shinso’s. You look back at him gratefully, surprised to see the indignant, infuriated expression on his face. The idol glares at the fan holding your wrist. You think he must have some sort of brainwashing powers, because the fan quickly lets go of you. You self-consciously bring a hand to your forearm, wondering if it will bruise. Shaking your head, you turn back to Shinso. You need to keep moving. You glance at the door, trying to signal to him that you should go inside. The idol nods and takes you by the arm. You immediately try to shake his grip, but it doesn’t falter. You’re well aware of the fans screaming even louder, for some reason, and Shinso’s fingers digging into the skin of your forearm. It’s not too tight of a grip, fortunately, but it’s enough to keep you from resisting. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you admonish him the moment the two of you are in the safety of the company building. Shinso rolls his eyes, as if he had been expecting you to say that. Perhaps he was. You decide to continue speaking anyway. “You know what fans will say.” You don’t bother to finish that statement. Shinso understands what you’re getting at, regardless. 

“I don’t care,” Shinso says, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s not usually this rigid in his thinking. You squint at him. Shinso’s eyes flit about your face for a moment before settling on some unknown point in the distance. “Besides, they were all over you.”

“I think you’re neglecting yourself in this situation,” you point out, shoving your hands in your pockets as you keep walking. “They’re your fans. They were all over you.” You’re walking behind Shinso and, admittedly, you’re a bit distracted. Thus, you don't notice him stop in his tracks until you run into his back. 

“Maybe, but I’m used to that kind of behavior,” Shinso says over his shoulder. His fists are clenched at his sides and he looks uncharacteristically angry. “You are not.”

You’re not sure how to combat that. You decide to remain silent, watching as Shinso turns around and levels you with a strangely heated gaze. The idol sighs, taking a step closer to breach the rather sizable distance between you. You watch in surprise as he places a hand on your shoulder and sighs. “Next time, if I’m not there.... Well, I should be there. Never mind.” He then retracts his hand- quickly, as if he’d been burned- and walks away. You follow behind him, your mind reeling from what just happened. 

if you liked this one, consider checking out part two, which features bakugo, kirishima, and todoroki :) or part three, which features present mic and miruko

ENDNOTES:

“You think Shinso must have some sort of brainwashing powers” .... lmao. that was my lil hint at the bnha universe.

mwahahhaha i am very happy with how this turned out Ψ(`_´ # )↝ 

ironically, i was originally going to write abt bakugo instead of shigaraki but... i couldn’t visualize it with bakugo, for some reason... besides, i think shigaraki kinda fits in with shinso and monoma better. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯   my clown ass also tried to write these in bullet format... safe to say, that didn’t turn out. 

anyway. enough of my rambling. thanks for reading !! 

#defectivevillain #bnha #bnha x male reader #shigaraki x reader #monoma x reader #shinso x reader #shigaraki x male reader #monoma x male reader #shinso x male reader #male reader #mha x male reader #x male reader #yuh

[nendo-kyotei]

little pocket (tetsutetsu x reader)

♥ pairing: Tetsutetsu x reader

♥ wc: 650

♥ synopsis: You, a cheerful and dumb rookie, join Tetsutetsu's hero team and quickly catch senpai's eye. He makes it a point to turn you into his personal fleshlight.

tws and tags: Size Kink, Coercion, Anal, Mouth spitting, Hairpulling, Watersports, Rough sex, No safe words, Dubious consent

Note: Everyone is +20 and working on hero agencies

Being the new addition to the hero team formed by Itsuka, Ibaraki, Monoma and Tetsu, and immediately catching the eye of the latter. You're a little bit younger than them, inexperienced, and immediately adopted as the little sister of the team. You're tiny, cheerful and full of admiration for your more experienced senpais, and would do anything to earn their favour. Luckily for you, they're all quickly attached to your airhead self. Itsuka kindly guides you through the ropes, Ibaraki mothers you, Monoma teases you and Tetsu... Well, he wants to fuck you.

You're so fucking small compared to him, so innocent and inexperienced. The kind of little thing he wants to throw around the bedroom as he pleases, as there is little you could do to stop him from whatever he wants. The perfect little pocket pussy.

It's easy to get you to trust him, really. He doesn't miss the way you gasp and smile whenever he takes bullets for you during hero duty, easily stopping anything on your way with his iron muscles. He also doesn't miss the way you blush a little bit whenever he brushes off your many thank yous and tells you he will always protect his cute little junior. You're too naive for your own good, really. You're lucky that he has enough self control to not pin you against the ground and mount you right there until you cry.

With enough time, he manages to create the illusion that he's like a big brother for you, the one you never had, and it makes you giddy to be so special to an experienced hero like him. Fortunately for him, you're too fucking stupid to realize his real intentions.

Stupid enough that he somehow talks you into showering with him, with some excuse about how it's okay because you're both in a rush and he won't look anyways. You're like his little sister, he would never lay a hand on you.

Bullshit.

You're half his size, maybe even smaller, and he enjoys the way your tiny frame gets absolutely dwarfed by him, loves it even more when you look a little bit scared of how big he is compared to you, knowing he could snap your neck with one hand. He pushes you against the wet shower walls, easily lifts you off the ground and presses your bodies together, his nose right against yours. You can feel his huge, hard cock pressing against your thigh, more threatening than any of the villains you've recently fought.

He takes your virginity right there, in the least romantic, most lewd situation your tiny brain could ever muster, and all you remember from it is your pained moans being muffled by the wet marble of the walls as he fucks you from behind, and his pleased grunts against your ear as he bites your lobe and thrusts into you like an animal in heat. Your feet dangling in the air, unable to escape from the big, bad wolf that has caught you.

He slowly makes you his little sex toy, breaking your mind into pieces and doing degenerate shit to you that you that you would have never even considered before. Stuff like shoving a thick finger up your ass while you're riding his cock, loving the way your face twists in discomfort, growling at you if you dare try to take it out. Finishing a beer and then drunkenly shoving the bottle inside you, seeing if he can make you squirt inside it if he fucks you hard enough with it. Pissing on you for fun, just to watch you suffer but also reluctantly take it like a pathetic little doll, not hesitating in pulling your hair with his strong hands if you dare even grimace.

You take it all reluctantly, but obediently. After all, you don't want to disappoint your senpai, even if he bullies you.

#tetsutetsu x reader #bnha smut #bnha reader insert #reader insert #fem reader

[mackjlee9]

Alright, imma post a list of one-shots that have a plot for but I just have no idea which one I should write first so 🤷‍♀️

Heads up~!! There's a lot. Some may change a bit, and the smut to fluff/angst ratio is... wild.

I won't write the plots, but I'll add the warnings to the smut ones.

•|Takami Keigo/Hawks [published]

Warning; praising, overstimulation, dumbification, daddy kink, rimming.

Uhh, you basically played with one of his feathers.

•|Afab!Kibutsuji Muzan

Warning; cunningulus.

•|Oujo Masato

Warning; uh... corruption kink maybe?

It's a smut/lime one but I haven't come up with anything specific yet.

•|Yoigoshi Tatsuya

Warning; camboy!yoigoshi, college au, anal masturbation(?

•|Mammon [published]

Warning; stuck in a wall, overstimulation, mind-break, master/sir kink (I haven't decided yet)

•|Kyotani Kentaro

Warning; 3rdyear!kyotani/reader, edging, begging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, mind-break.

•|Shinomiya Ayato

Warning; consented non-con language, overstimualtion, corruption kink, virgin!ayato, college au.

•|Yukihira Soma

Warning; breeding kink, overstimulation, passing out.

•|Jinguji Jakurai

Unfinished

Warning; overstimulation -fkin again?!-, begging, riding, multiple orgasm, drunk!horny!jakurai.

•|Todoroki Touya/Dabi

Warning; collaring, rough sex, riding, powerbottom!dabi, sub!reader.

•|Ryuguji Ken/Draken

Warning; choking, smaller!top.

•|Ryoumen Sukuna & Gojo Satoru

Warning; uh... threesome, and idk what else.

•|Gojo Satoru

Warning; praising, feminization, edging, overestimation.

More warnings; mentions of itadori x reader, mentions of megumi x reader, voyeurism, degradation, dry jumping, double blowjob.

•|Childe/Tartaglia

Warning; belly bulge, overestimation, s&m play, degradation, shibari and maybe... cbt play.

•|Sakusa Kiyoomi

Warning; semi-public, blowjob, dry humping, praising and degrading, hair pulling. Optional; assjob, edging, orgasm denial.

•|Sniper Mask

Warning; choking, breeding kink, hair pulling, biting.

•|Albedo

Warning; overstimulation 😒, praising, choking, hair pulling, body worship.

•|Nakajima Atsushi

Warning; breeding kink, overstimulation 😬, edging, toys usage, handcuffs usage, bondage or shibari.

•|Levi Ackerman

Warning; edging, degrading, choking, daddy/sir kink, omegaverse au, modern au.

•|Dazai Osamu

Warning; crossdressing, face-sitting, rimming, double penetration (not a threesome)

•|Scaramouche

Warning; dacryphilia, overstimulation, edging, mind-break.

One of my moots requested this 👀👀 of course, I made the plot and came up with the kinks.

•|Dazai Osamu & Nakahara Chuuya

Warning; threesome and idk what else.

•|Xiao

Warning; size kink, feminization, dacryphilia.

•|Ushijima Wakatoshi

Warning; blowjob, non-con somnophilia, powerbottom!wakatoshi.

•|Olivine

Warning; uh... nipple play maybe?

•|Lee:Palefire

Warning; bareback, pulling on his horns, mind-break, breeding kink and cnc.

•|Loid Forger

Warning; infidelity, semi-public, overstimulation, dumbification, degrading and a bit of dirty talk, size difference, manhandling, feminization.

•|Luxiem/Noctyx/Shoto

Warning; cockwarming.

•|Asta

.

Warning; public sex, overstimulation, rough sex, size kink

•|Amajiki Tamaki

Warning; pegging (ftm reader), orgasm denial, rimming, collaring, praising, slight masochism (scratches, bites), bondage, vibrator usage.

•|Neko!Amajiki Tamaki

Warning; top!ftm!reader

•|Omega!Bakugou Katsuki

Warning; alpha!ftm!reader

•|Choi Saeyoung/Luciel/707

Warning; crossdressing!707

•|Maid!Shiba Taiju Headcanons

.

.

.

(SFW)

•|Monoma Neito

Fluff and Angst

•|Chinen Miya

Platonic Fluff

•|Ash Lynx & Okumura Eiji [Published]

Angst

•|Diluc Ragnvindr

Angst, hurt/no comfort, death.

•|Suna Rintaro [Published]

Plot based of from This Side Of Paradise. Mentions of homophobia & toxic relationship.

#.mackjlee9 rants #.mackjlee9 writes #.mackjlee9

[faulty-writes]

Hello, I wanted to know if there is a way to write a Monoma x reader shy oneshot that is in classe 1-C and that Monoma has a crush on she (she would be very shy with people from other classes)

[ Alright here we go. This was actually way longer, but I didn't want to make a super long one-shot. So that being the case, there will be a part two to this as soon as I finish writing it. But I hope you enjoy part one. ]

A sigh left your lips as you flipped to the next page of the Encyclopedia of Heroes, continuing to search for information for your project. Some may say that being a General Studies student is boring. Although Yuuei was known for its Hero Course, the school itself was elite.

Regardless of what department you were placed in, the education you received was top-notch. Of course, most would argue that the hero and support department students got off easy considering the academic projects they were assigned were few and far between.

The project you were assigned was to pick a concept within hero studies and present it to the class. The concept you chose was to compare characteristics between pro heroes and current student heroes. You were hoping to find out which traits truly make a hero shine.

Granted this required you to narrow your selection of heroes down. While you could interview the former number-one hero, considering he was a teacher at Yuuei, your shy nature worked against you. Outside of the General Studies Department, you hardly spoke to anyone.

Whether this was due to social anxiety or not was unknown. However, you had long since learned to accept your shyness even if it got in the way of completing simple tasks. Sighing, you closed the encyclopedia and rose from the table, placing your hand on your forehead.

You looked around the library. There were a few other students present, either sitting down at one of the provided computers or talking to one another. You glanced down at the table. In addition to the encyclopedia, there were several papers scattered across it, each filled with notes referring to your project.

“Maybe I should…take a break…” you muttered to yourself. You looked toward the exit, debating getting a snack from the vending machine. You latched onto your lip and curled your hands into the bottom of your shirt as your stomach twisted with familiar anxiety.

Then again, did you really want to leave? What if someone tried to talk to you at the vending machine and you froze up? You groaned and pressed your hands against your face. ‘Calm down,’ you tried taking a deep breath, blissfully unaware of the peeping eyes watching your every move.

Those eyes belonged to Neito Monoma. Yes, anyone, apart from those so-called “heroes” in Class A, would feel honored to be the target of his affection. In fact, he first saw you in this library months ago. You had your face buried in a book and he was standing nearby when another general studies student approached you.

Of course, he wanted to eavesdrop and get some juicy gossip. This was because it was always interesting to hear what was taking place in other departments. But when you lowered that book from your face, he felt his heart soar.

To hide such beauty was surely a crime. Of course, you weren’t as beautiful as him but a perfect fit, nonetheless. He decided right then and there, you would be his. He had carefully calculated his moves, waiting for the right moment to slip in.

This was because he had long since learned how shy you were around others. It was quite endearing, but he might be able to help you with that once you two got closer. After all, he was going to be a famous hero and needed a confident, competent partner by his side.

“You can…you can do this,” you hesitated to move, believing that several eyes were watching you. In reality, everyone was minding their own business. You slowly placed one foot in front of the other, and before you knew it, you scurried out of the library with your head down.

Neito chuckled as he watched you leave. “How amusing,” he said, looking at the table you were sitting at. “Hm,” he perched his lips and glanced over the cover of the encyclopedia, curiously opening, and flipping through the first few pages although he found it quite boring, and yet jealousy filled him.

He closed it with force and firmly pressed his palm against it. Why would you waste your precious time reading about other heroes when he was your one and only hero? Even if you didn’t know it yet, his perfection did not pass you by...did it?

He grumbled before noticing the piles of notes underneath the encyclopedia. “Oh, what did my shy darling write? Surely, she is more intelligent than those Class A students!” he declared, bluntly ignoring anyone who heard him as he moved the book and gently compiled your notes into a neat stack.

He scanned over the first page, jealous that you spent so much time analyzing other heroes instead of him. He huffed and read through the second note which was piled with thoughts on the various characteristics found in famous heroes and some scribbled thoughts regarding hero students' characteristics.

He frowned, going through the pile until he threw it back onto the table. “How dare she write such admiration for other heroes!” he hissed, clenching his fists together. He wanted to be the only one on your mind. He could prove to you that he was the only hero worth your time and-oh wait!

Yes! That was it, how brilliant of him! He would simply offer to be a part of your project. From what he could gather you were quite eager to learn about hero students, and what better one to analyze than him!? Yes, the temptation to join your project was overwhelming.

If you were truly dedicated to it, there was no reason you’d say no and so he waited for you to return. Your heart was beating fast as you jogged past the entrance of the library, and hunched over, pressing your hands against your knees.

One of them clenched the snack you got from the vending machine. Despite your anxiety continuing to escalate you accomplished your small goal and the reward was delicious onigiri. A bit plain in terms of a snack, but it suited you well and would be filling until you left for the day.

You took a deep breath and leaned back up as your heart thumped in your chest. You looked at the onigiri in your hand and smiled, unwrapping it as you walked back to your table. You took one satisfying bite, enjoying the salty taste dancing across your tongue.

However, this small moment of joy came to a staggering halt when you saw someone sitting at your table and stopped in your tracks. His hair was the first thing you noticed, as it looked silky and was the fairest blond color you had ever seen.

His eyes stood out next. They were piercing periwinkle and had a hungry or predatorial appearance. His skin looked fair and smooth, and his lips curled into a smirk that sent a violent tremble through your body. “Ah, Y/n,” he said, slowly standing from the chair.

“It’s quite a pleasure to be face to face with you, although I’m certain the pleasure is all yours for gazing at my glorious face. You know many girls speak of its beauty,” he said, chuckling as he pressed a hand to his cheek.

“H-huh?” Your jaw hung open and the partially chewed onigiri fell to the floor. “My, my, one shouldn’t make a mess although your pretty little mouth is likely more appetizing than that onigiri you’re holding,” he purred, rounding the table with hungry eyes still fixated on you.

Your first instinct was to back away, despite your cheeks turning red as if the sun itself had come down and burned you. How did he know your name? Had he been waiting for you to return, and if so why!? He continued walking forward until he was a foot away from you.

His smirk made you tremble and subconsciously hold your breath. “Although I have little interest in the matters of others. After all, if it doesn’t involve me, it’s of little importance. But I couldn’t help but notice the project you were working on,” he stated, gesturing to the table.

“You’re a rather messy one, that’s quite unfitting for a student of such beauty,” he said. Despite your reddened cheeks, you drew your bottom lip into your mouth and glanced away. How could he be so mean, and yet sound so sincere?

His smirk faded and his eyes glossed over as if he were under someone's spell when he noticed you weren’t looking at him. Well, this wouldn’t do. You cried out when he stepped forward, and grasped your chin, making you look at him.

Your eyes were wide and trembling with what he assumed was fear. But you couldn't be afraid of him, right? No, it was just your shy nature. ‘Why is he touching me!?’ You frantically thought, completely disregarding his compliment concerning your beauty.

Your lips trembled in an effort to speak, and yet only a pathetic squeak came out. He chuckled at the sound of it and leaned close. Your heart raced because you weren’t used to others being this physically close to you, especially someone whose name you didn't know.

Despite your rational mind telling you to turn your tail and run, your body wouldn’t listen. This boy, this fellow student, paralyzed you without trying. “Tell me, why are you wasting your time with such trivial heroes when the only one you need to focus your project on is right before you?”

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed heavily, your fear turning into confusion. ‘Wait…is he a hero student?’ You could barely recall if you had seen him passing through the hallway, then again you walked with your head down most of the time.

You also had very little interest in watching the Sports Festival, let alone participating in school festivals. “U-um…” you tried to speak again, and again the words failed to form. Neito tilted his head, his facial features enveloped with concern but as silence filled the air, he smirked.

“Ah, speechless in front of me. That’s quite understandable,” he commented, and you couldn’t help but tremble in disgust. Was this guy obsessed with himself? “I’ll make this easy for you then,” he said, finally removing his hand from your chin and smirking again as he saw the color of your cheeks.

So red and luscious. It looked wonderful on you. “I will be a part of your project,” he stated, knowing he was demanding instead of asking. Your eyes widened and you stepped back, wanting to ask him ‘what?’ but not having the courage to form the words. Your face said enough, and Neito chuckled.

“Yes, I know it’s quite a shock,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “I'd be a worthwhile contribution, don't you think?” You almost suspected he was asking because he knew you were too shy to answer. Which in a sense was kind of cruel. Then again, even if you somehow responded you assumed he'd keep talking.

“I can even showcase the versatility of my Copy quirk, surely that would convince you that I, Neito Monoma, your Phantom Thief can emulate the abilities of various heroes plus more!” he declared, bluntly ignoring anyone who turned their head in his direction.

Your face was now dripping with sweat, and you weren't sure if that was from your shyness or the fact you were angry at the moment. He approached you, now wearing a smile that looked too sweet and sickening. “Hmm, what do you say?” he asked. “Don’t you agree I’d make a wonderful contribution to your project?”

You glanced away and latched onto your bottom lip which trembled. ‘Well…maybe this is my chance to study a hero student like I wanted, maybe the data I collect from him would be valuable. I could find out why he's so enthusiastic and determined.’

Although your stomach twisted at the thought of spending time with him, and the realization that at some point you'd need to ask him personal questions to determine why certain characteristics he displayed were stronger or weaker than pro heroes made your mouth go dry.

You grumbled before releasing your lip and looking at him. You didn’t say anything, just nodded, and Neito grinned like a madman. “Wonderful!” he said, throwing his hands in the air before brushing past you, purposely rubbing his shoulder against yours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, same time, same place.” You tried to take a breath when he walked away, but he stopped short and walked up to you again. Your back was facing him, and you cried out when he grasped your hand that was still gripping onto the now squished onigiri.

Your jaw hung open when you turned your head. Soft squeaks came when he locked eyes with you and bit into your snack. You watched his pink tongue come out, collecting any pieces of leftover rice that stuck to his lips before he chewed and swallowed.

“Ta-ta,” he said, waving you goodbye as he walked away, and you could only stare in horror at the bite he had taken. Well…that was a waste of a good snack. The next day, you resented your agreement to allow Neito to be the focus of your project.

You hated knowing that you agreed only because you were a people pleaser and too shy or lacking the voice to express yourself. Then again, he seemed so persistent that even if you said no, he would continue to push until he got his way.

“Yes, I’m quite sure all you pathetic heroes in Class A are in despair that I have been selected to be part of Y/n’s project! Surely it will highlight the various reasons I remain above the heroes that make up your sorry excuse of a class,” he stated bluntly as he stood in the Class A doorway.

Tsuyu spoke first, “Wow, Monoma. That’s some interesting news.” Katsuki clenched his jaw. “Tch, why the hell do we care about something so damn meaningless!?” he shouted, shoving Neito out of the way who chuckled in response.

“Hm, that’s about the answer I’d expect from a delinquent like you,” he replied with a smirk. “Of course, that’s to be expected from one who couldn’t even pass the provisional licensing exam.” Katsuki’s body stiffened, but before he could say anything Eijirou spoke up.

“Jeez, cool it, man! What’s your problem!?” Neito narrowed his eyes. He had a history with the red-headed fool. Seemed they’d always be on opposite ends. “I don’t believe a thing is wrong with me,” he stated before turning his back on Eijirou and the rest of Class A.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m due to meet Y/n at the library.” Eijirou curled his lips, watching Neito walk away in slight disgust before turning to Tsuyu. “Isn’t Y/n someone in general studies?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“Ribbit, I think so. But they don’t talk much to anyone outside of their class,” she replied and Eijirou's eyebrows knit together. If that were the case, how could Neito have convinced you to be part of whatever project you were working on?

Your anxiety was high as you waited for him to appear. Your feet bounced against the carpeted floor below you, and breathing exercises weren’t your friend at the moment. You curled your hands on the table and your eyes focused on the single notebook on it.

You were hoping you wouldn’t have too much to talk about because Neito already showed a variety of characteristics that contrasted pro heroes. Either way, you needed to document as much information as possible if you wanted your project to thrive.

You closed your eyes, taking another much-needed breath before nervously tapping the tip of your pencil against the notebook, but this didn’t ease the knots in your stomach. ‘Why did it have to be him though?’ At times like this, you wondered if fate was being cruel or challenging you to overcome the obstacle of your shy nature.

You tried to redirect your thoughts and opened your notebook, although your hand was trembling. You decided to write an introduction regarding your project and the subject you’d be studying, Neito Monoma. “Hm,” you paused and tapped the pencil against your lips. What did he say his quirk was?

You thought for a moment before scribbling down ‘Copy?’ With any luck you’d find out more about his quirk as this progressed. However, if you were being honest, you wanted this to end as soon as possible. You sighed and laid the pencil onto the notebook.

You stared blankly at the lined pages until approaching footsteps made you raise your head. Your throat tightened when you saw the smirk on Neito’s face and those eyes held that same intimidating gaze as before.

“Hello dear Y/n,” he said, pressing one hand against his chest. Your breathing turned heavy, your face dusted over red, and his greeting was met with silence. “Oh, still shy I see,” he said, brushing a hand through his hair.

“How adorably you,” he commented, causing your already abnormal heart rate to skyrocket. “Mm…” You clasped your hands together in your lap and leaned forward, your mind urging you to return his greeting. However, as the seconds passed, awkwardness consumed you.

The weight of his stare didn’t help, but you felt relief when he took a seat. What could you say to him? How could you get through this project?! He smiled and took a moment to admire how devilishly delicious you looked with those reddened cheeks before glancing down and noticing your open notebook.

“Oh, and what do we have here?” he asked, reaching over to grab it. You gasped and leaned across the table to get your notebook back. In response, Neito leaned back and held the notebook away from you. A hungry glance flashed in his eyes when you looked at him.

You trembled and immediately scrambled back only to collide with your chair, causing it to fall to the floor along with you. You could feel the stares on you and a few people approached, making your already reddened face deepen.

You could only stare at the carpet trying to fight back the awkwardness while simultaneously wishing the floor would swallow you whole. “Hey there!” a cheerful voice said, breaking through the silence and darkness that clouded your mind at that moment.

You lifted your head to see a tall and muscular boy, who you quickly assumed was a third-year student. He had blue eyes and a round button-like nose. His blond hair was spiked up in the front and looked short around the back.

He smiled and extended his hand to you. “Need a hand? Heh, get it? Hand!?” he exclaimed excitedly, making your eyebrows knit. “Excuse me!” Neito snapped, standing between you and the third-year student. “How dare you attempt to lay a hand on Y/n,” he growled, curling his hands into fists by his sides.

Your eyes widened, amazed that he didn't care about the attention turned on him. Then again, given his personality, he probably thrived on it. “Huh?” He blinked. “Oh hey, you’re one of those first-year students, Monoma, right?”

“Nice to meet you, I'm Mirio Togata!” he said, now extending the hand he had held out to you to Neito instead. However, he only received the boy’s angry glare in return and watched as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You trembled at his touch, but he seemed to ignore this at the moment.

Mirio blinked, taking in the image of the two of you. “Oh, heh sorry did I interrupt something?” he asked, scratching the side of his head. Your heart was racing so fast you weren’t sure if you were nervous or having a heart attack.

Neito holding you so close was new and though you wanted to push him away, your shy nature prevented you from acting. Neito narrowed his eyes and turned his head, ignoring Mirio. You flinched when his hair brushed against your head, and he locked his eyes with yours.

You could feel his hot breath against your face when he spoke. “Oh, my dear, Y/n are you alright? Don’t pay any mind to the upperclassmen who rudely interrupted our study session,” he said, using his other hand to wave Mirio away.

“Hm?” Mirio tilted his head in response before chuckling. “Heh, well okay!” he smiled. “Have a good session!” he said walking away. Neito snarled and removed his arm from around you only when he was sure that Mirio had actually left.

“Now that the interruption is over, perhaps we can do something else,” he said, reaching down to grab your hands, which once again caused your face to grow red. You wanted to ask, ‘Like what?’ but like before, your words were frozen in your throat, and you glanced away as he helped you stand up.

“Notes are quite dull and boring,” he said, moving closer to the table to grab your notebook. “It would be far more interesting to watch me in action. After all, I did promise I’d let you see my quirk, did I not?” he said. You cried out when he tossed your notebook at you which you barely caught.

He smirked, “Wouldn’t it be a privilege to watch one as beautiful as I? You can still take notes if you wish,” he said before approaching. You squeaked when he grasped your chin, guiding your head up to look at him. “As long as you keep those pretty eyes on me.”

He was tempted to lean over and kiss your reddened cheeks but decided against it for now. “Do hurry and gather your things,” he said, turning away from you. “Huh?” You glanced between him and the table with your arms pressed against your chest.

However, when Neito tapped his foot against the floor, you rushed to pick your backpack up. You shoved the notebook inside and threw the strap over your shoulder. You followed him out of the library with your hands curled into the bottom of your shirt and your eyes focused on the floor. You felt pathetic following him like a lost puppy.

You lifted your head only to focus it back on the floor when you passed another student in the hallway. You latched onto your bottom lip again wondering why you agreed to this. You cried out when you stumbled into Neito, who you hadn’t realized had stopped walking.

Your eyes widened when you realized you were now pressed against his back. You looked up, groaning when Neito looked at you from over his shoulder. Once again that rush of heat coursed through your cheeks and you immediately backed away, folded your hands in front of you, and bowed.

You would say sorry, but you could only imagine the ridicule that would get you. He chuckled, “Oh dear, Y/n I do enjoy you bowing although if you bowed at my feet that would be more satisfying.” You knit your eyebrows.

Yeah…there was definitely something wrong with Neito. You slowly leaned back up, feeling the heat cool and your cheeks return to normal. “Um…” you frowned and looked around, noticing that you were now standing in front of the Class-1A door. What were you doing in the hero department?

Neito noticed the confused look on your face and chuckled again. “I will be right back,” he stated, walking up to the door before knocking. You drew your bottom lip into your mouth, slightly concerned when you heard a grouchy and raspy voice respond, “Come in.”

Neito turned to look at you again before entering the room. You were slightly nervous and wondered what he could be doing but tried not to lose yourself in anxiety. You closed your eyes as you leaned against the row of lockers and took a deep breath.

You ran through the different scenarios that could happen when Neito finally showed you his quirk. You had never seen any of the hero students' training sessions and it was impossible to tell if they had mastered their quirks or were still rough around the edges.

Although Neito seemed confident enough that even if he was still training his quirk, he’d find some excuse to act as though it were superior to everyone else. You took a deep breath and sighed as you placed one foot against one of the lockers behind you.

In a way, you envied him. If you had a fraction of his self-confidence, maybe you wouldn’t be so awkward. Then again, Neito seemed to like you for some odd reason. Or at least that's what you could gather from his flirtation and insistence on being a part of your project.

What did he see in you? Obviously, something you couldn’t. You looked up when the door opened, and Neito proudly stepped out with a large grin across his face. Your eyes widened, and your stomach twisted into knots just thinking about the various reasons why that smile was on his face.

“Ah, dear Y/n, I’m quite happy to see that you are still here. I would say sorry for making you wait but you’ll soon find out that the wait was worth it,” he declared, once again showing his confidence as well as stubborn nature. You frowned, glancing away from him.

You folded your hands against your chest and felt your lips tremble before parting them. “Wh-” The question faded along with your courage and Neito’s eyes widened, surprised that you had even attempted to talk to him.

He stepped closer, making your heart race. Out of instinct, you tried to step back only to remember you were leaning against the lockers. He placed his hands behind his back, smiling at you like a happy predator eager to bite into its prey.

“How adorable, are you trying to ask why?” he questioned before patting you on the head, making you squeak involuntarily, and your cheeks turn rosy. “Um…” you swallowed hard, looking away from him although that didn’t tame your embarrassment.

With some regret you nodded, making Neito’s grin heighten. He extended the hand he had just used to pat your head out in front of you. “Take my hand,” he said, “and I’ll show you the answer.” Your heart pounded so hard it echoed in your ears. Why was he of all people offering you his hand?

“Mm…” you latched onto your bottom lip and laid your hand in his. Possessively, he curled his fingers around your hand and that was concerning. So was the way he pulled you down the hallway and toward Ground Gamma.

This was an unfamiliar experience for you given that general studies students weren’t permitted on training grounds reserved for hero or support department students. You tried pulling your hand away from Neito's, afraid of standing where you were not permitted to.

Unfortunately, his grip was like iron, and it was highly unlikely that you’d break free. The sound of your footsteps echoed through Ground Gamma. You looked down, realizing that the floor was made of metal and that the rest of the area was open.

Why did the hero students train here? You hadn’t realized you were still holding Neito’s hand when he stopped in the middle of the training ground until he tightened his grip which caused you to snap back to reality.

“Yes, I know it’s quite memorizing here, isn't it?” he replied, once again smiling at you. “Oh u-um…” you tried to speak but nodded your head like before. “Oh, I’m so glad you agree!” he declared, letting go of your hand before spinning around.

The sound of his laughter bounced off the walls, creating an eerie effect that made you tremble. But it ended just as quickly as it started, and he turned to look at you. “Now, I promised you a demonstration of my quirk. But I’d like you to use yours on me first.”

Your eyes widened at his request. “W-what?” you replied before clasping your hands over your mouth, realizing that was the first actual word you had spoken around him. His expression dropped and instead, a look of curiosity enveloped his face, followed by a smirk.

“My, am I breaking through that shell of yours already?” he said, pressing a triumphant hand against his chest. “Well, what more could one expect from someone as amazing as I?” he said. Seriously, where did all his confidence come from?

“Now then, I requested that you use your quirk on me, and don’t worry about any consequences. Mr. Aizawa has granted us both permission to be here,” he said, before spreading his arms out. “Don’t hold back,” he instructed.

While you weren’t sure how truthful he was being, you were reminded that your project depended on this interaction. You frowned, hesitant to go through with it but Neito would more than likely keep persisting until you were driven nuts.

Although you already knew you'd hold back, when you tried to use your quirk, you couldn’t. “Huh?” Your eyes widened and you looked at your hands, startled that something was wrong with your body. However, you lifted your head when you heard Neito laugh.

You trembled when you saw that his eyes were now glowing yellow, and his hair was floating upward as if gravity itself had broken. “See!?” he said with a smirk as he pointed at himself. “This is my quirk, isn’t it marvelous!?” he declared.

“Erasure is quite amazing and all I had to do was touch Mr. Aizawa to copy his quirk,” he explained and took pride in your mesmerized look. It was rather adorable to see those eyes widen as you took him in, and those adorable lips fall open.

“I’m flattered you’re so amazed,” he stated before his hair fell flat against his head again. “Heh…” you glanced down, trying to fight the blush dusting your cheeks a perfect rosy red. You should really be writing all this down, you swallowed and hesitantly slipped your bag off your shoulders.

Unzipping it, you took your notebook out. You lowered yourself onto the cool metal floor and scribbled down a few notes. Of course, Neito didn’t like that you weren’t paying attention to him and crossed his arms in a huff. “Y/n,” he said but got no response from you and leaned over, waving his hand in front of your face.

“Are you listening to me? While I’m happy to see that you are writing about my marvelous quirk, I do require your attention,” he stated, making you pause and look at him. “Finally,” he commented, crossing his arms, and looking displeased.

“Um…” you opened your mouth to speak but shake your head, too embarrassed to ask him personal questions yet. But this was your project and you needed to ask him about his quirk. Just one little thing! It wouldn’t kill you, would it!?

“Y-your…q…q-quirk…” you managed to say and watched his eyes light up as if hearing your voice was the sweetest melody and he was so proud that you spoke up! “L…l-limitations?” Your heart beat so fast and your face felt on fire.

He blinked in response, and the silence between you was suffocating. Your hands clenched around your notebook. Had you said the wrong thing? Damn it. You looked down as if staring at the floor would be beneficial but looked back up when Neito knelt in front of you.

“Oh, dear, Y/n. Do you truly believe my quirk has limitations?” he asked once again making your stomach twist. “I…e-every quirk…” Your words trailed off, fading into the air causing him to frown. “I suppose every hero has their weaknesses,” he said with a grumble.

“I’m afraid that I’m limited to holding four quirks at once and can only use them for a limited amount of time,” he'd go into detail but didn’t feel like it was the time and hated talking about his weaknesses. It reminded him of the reason why he wanted to become a hero in the first place.

To prove them wrong. To prove he could be someone and while he loved the idea of fame and fortune, in this moment, all he cared about was having your attention. He seemed to have chipped away at your hard shell, even if only slightly today.

Perhaps he shouldn’t push his luck further. “Well do have fun writing down what you experienced here today. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” he said, walking past you. “Hm!?” you turned on the floor, watching him walk away in a panic.

Should you stay where you were? What if you couldn’t find your way back? You latched onto your lip, wanting to tell him to stop but not having the courage to. You jolted up and ran toward him, not entirely thinking about what consequences it would bring.

He paused and turned around when he heard your frantic steps and for a moment, grew concerned when he saw you running to him. He involuntarily shouted when you tripped over something, which almost seemed impossible given the structure of Ground Gamma.

But perhaps you tripped over your own feet in your frantic hurry. Either way, the feeling of your body colliding with his was blissful and though he tried his hardest to stop you from both falling, he found this to be impossible. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you out of instinct and took the brunt of the impact when you fell to the floor.

You felt his body tremble underneath yours and opened your eyes to realize that you cradled against his chest which caused your face to turn red. You placed your hands against his chest and pushed yourself up, feeling him grunt in reply.

“S-sorry!” you squeaked out before looking for your notebook which was lying on the ground a little way from where you and Neito were. You looked back, seeing him open his eyes only to find that you were now sitting on top of him.

Silence filled the space between you. He raised one hand out to you only to flinch when a raspy, tired voice filled the air. “Alright, Ground Gamma is closed,” Shota announced as irritated as ever before he lifted his head and stopped suddenly.

He blinked, concerned about why Neito was lying on the floor and you on top of him, but judging by those two sets of wide eyes looking back at him, he might have walked in on something that happened at the wrong time and in the wrong place.

“Mr. Aizawa!” Neito said immediately sitting up and causing you to fall back again. This caused him to grab onto your wrist to prevent you from hitting the floor. You grasped his hand and steadied yourself. Your cheeks burned and you felt slightly faint.

‘Damn it! Why do I get into these situations!?’ You frantically got up, deciding that saying nothing and running away was a better option than explaining yourself. “Y/n?” Neito asked, his voice quiet as he watched you grab your notebook before running past Shota.

Yeah, you said earlier that you were worried you wouldn’t be able to find your way back, but maybe getting lost wouldn’t be so terrible. You clenched your notebook against your chest as you ran. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess.

However, you could always write down everything you learned about Neito later today and maybe even write down some questions you wanted to ask him. There had to be more limitations to his quirk, and there had to be a reason why he wanted to become a hero.

It wasn’t because he was stuck up or thought he was better than everyone else even though he portrayed himself that way. But when you tripped, the way he wrapped his arms around you to keep you safe said something about him. He had a genuine care for keeping others safe.

Maybe he'd even take the brunt of any injury if it meant others remained unharmed. But isn’t that what heroes are supposed to do!? If that were true then why did that moment, that single moment change your perspective on Neito? Was he truly an arrogant man or was there more to him than meets the eye?

[ Second Part ]

#faulty writes: neito monoma: 23 #neito x female reader #bnha x female reader #neito x reader #monoma x reader #monoma x y/n #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #faulty writes: neito monoma: one shot: 23 #faulty writes: neito monoma: hero studies series: 23

[demetris-cocksleeve]

(A/n: Got some underrated bois on the mind🥰)

Navigation

Word Count: 792

Summary- When their crush started.

Warnings: None

Age Rating: None

Shinsou Hitoshi and Ojiro Mashirao (Separate) x GN! Reader

---------------------------------

Hitoshi:

When you defended him.

It was lunchtime when it happened. You were walking back to your table, food in hand when you heard the obnoxious voice of the one and only Monoma Neito. Normally, you'd ignore him and keep walking. Being in the same class as him forced you to be able to tune his voice out, but when you heard him say something about "dropping out" and "villainous" you decided that you'd interfere just this once.

Coming up behind him you see that he had trapped the kid with the brainwashing quirk from the sports festival (you think his name was Shinsou?) at his table. "Care to explain yourself, Monoma?"

Your voice causes him to jump. Shinsou was also taken aback, though he hid it far better.

"Y/n-Chan! I was just telling Shinko here" -You vaguely hear a grumbled 'it's ShinSOU'- "how it'd be better for both him and everyone if he left UA; with such an evil quirk-"

You don't wait for him to finish before you're pulling him face to face by his necktie.

"Listen here and listen good Monoma. I don't know what makes you think you're so much better than everyone else, but -news flash- you're not. In fact, since you want to talk shit and tell everyone how they're beneath you, how about I give you some stats: You're not even in the top 10 of our class. How's that for being bottom of the barrel? Maybe work on your own abilities -or lack thereof- instead of belittling others. People might actually like you then."

You let him go before turning to Shinsou. His mouth is open, staring at you with shock. "Grab your tray, you're eating with me today."

Mashirao:

(pls I love him so much it hurts🥺)

When you partnered with him for a project.

"-projects are due next week on Wednesday. You're expected to spend class time as well as time off working on them. Partner up and shut up; anyone who wakes me automatically fails."

The bell rings, officially releasing Class 1A from Aizawa's seemingly permanently harsh stare.

Mashirao collects his things before filing out the door like his classmates. He's walking with Shoji through the halls when he hears what sounds like his name. Thinking he's just hearing things due to the loud, crowded halls, he returns to their conversation.

Until he hears it again, much closer.

He stops to turn to the person calling him only to be barreled into. Out of instinct he reaches out to catch whoever rammed into him.

Steadying you, Mashirao barely has time to register your form scrambling backward before you're bombarding him with apologies.

You bow an almost perfect 90 degrees as you ramble. "Oh, my god, I am so sorry Ojiro-kun! I was trying to catch up to you guys and wasn't expecting you to stop walking and-"

"Hey, it's alright, really. I don't think you would have almost knocked yourself to the ground on purpose." He cuts you off before you talk yourself into passing out.

Your mouth snaps shut, and you stand there silent for a beat before Shoji breaks the silence. "I'm... gonna go ahead and save us a seat in the cafeteria..."

With that Mashirao and you are left in the mostly empty hallway.

Another beat of silence passes through before he asks, "So, what'd you need me so urgently for?"

He's smiling but you still look embarrassed.

"I... I was wondering ifyoudbemypartnerfortheproject!"The last part of your sentence is mumbled, not unlike Midoriya when he gets in his own head.

"...Sorry?"

"I was wondering if you'd be my partner for the project?"

To say he was surprised would be an understatement. You were in the top 5 in class. Not to mention you're one of the most popular students in the entirety of the hero course. Why would you want to partner with someone like him?

He wouldn't mind getting to know you better, so he doesn't dwell on it.

"Sure! When do you wanna get started?"

-

You are probably one of the best partners he's had to work with. You actually pull your weight with the project -adding your own ideas and opinions when necessary, all while not being a total stick in the mud. You ask for his thoughts on things and don't completely take over either.

You are also insanely attractive he notes pretty much from the get-go.

The way you laugh at his corny jokes doesn't help at all. Neither does the way you lightly smack his arm when he acts like a dork or the way that you furrow your eyebrow in confusion or pump your fist with a small 'yes!' when you finally figure that thing that's been eluding you.

Or the way that-

Oh. Oh. He's got it bad...

#Shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou fluff #ojiro mashirao x reader #ojiro fluff #shinsou hitoshi #ojiro mashirao #mha fluff #bnha fluff