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#bnha writing
gardenofnoah · 13 hours
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I would have killed a part of me to have you
part 1
note: this is a new series I'm playing with! no idea how it'll end up so. lock in ig
wc: 1k. tags: bkg x reader, fantasy/royal au, childhood friends to lovers (this is not the main focus though), king bkg/servant reader, immortal reader, infertility (because of the immortal thing)
Bakugou Katsuki is awarded the privilege of consistency—of waking up and knowing the natural progression of each day of his life. There will never be a surprise. He will live only to grow old—to be dotted on and made fat by adoration and excess and to die in much of the same way, after having fulfilled his duty to secure the continuation of his blood line. While his life is only a means to an end, he will come to know his reward with such handsome familiarity that he will forget there is no meaning in any of it. This ignorance, this nothingness, is his birthright.
It was, anyway.
It was unfortunate, the oversight that brought you into his life. Whether it was a rushed signature or a lazy finger point that pulled you from your own life and dropped you into his could never be known, but it’s for the fact that you were dropped at his feet that shattered any real hope for his life as it should’ve been.
And it was innocent, of course. Two fledglings figuring out which way to flap the wings to get tiny bodies up off the ground. There was quite a bit of fumbling and squawking and just as much horseplay that earned the pair an endeared eye roll from whatever handmaid had caught them that day. Bakugou was your friend—your first and only. And you got away with this friendship until you didn’t.
You were brought here to serve Bakugou and his future heir. You lived in blissful ignorance of this cruel fact until your twentieth birthday—it was then that you were reprimanded swiftly and harshly for years of childish behavior and reminded of your purpose here. You were reminded that you were created to bend to Bakugou’s every whim—there was no place for friendship in servitude.
And how cruelly that information came to both of them—to Bakugou, who thought he’d finally been given an opportunity to have someone witness his own humanity. To you, who thought you’d finally been given a safe person.
But there’s no stopping a notion once it’s been started and unfortunately for parliament, that silly childhood friendship had snowballed into something truly monstrous in the eyes of the crown.
The two of you loved each other.
It was easy enough to keep up a charade. Bakugou had a surprisingly good poker face and no one bothered to look at yours long enough to see what was written all over it. No one noticed every tiny brush of his thumb over the pulse in your wrist as he left a room, just like no one saw you creep into his chambers late in the night—the same way you’d creep out in the early hours of the morning. For ten years, this worked. Bakugou’s father passed as peacefully as any patriarch could have, and his succession meant that Bakugou was let off his leash, if only minutely. For ten years, you could keep your heart as intact as it could be. But on his thirtieth birthday, something changed.
Parliament was unhappy that Bakugou had not yet married. The crown needed an heir.
Between the two of you, Bakugou was firm in his decision that he’d bring no child into the world if it was not yours—even at thirty he was still so naive to how little say he had in his own life. He would create an heir—parliament made it clear that they would have one by any means. He could kick and scream all he wanted.
But there was, of course, the matter of the other thing.
You would never have children.
The only secret you'd ever kept from him—it was not so much as your hips proved baren that they were deprived of all means of making life altogether. Ten years and a day ago, maybe. But not now.
When you turned twenty, you were let in on another royal secret—it was no small coincidence that you were pulled from the squalor of your old life. Poor as you were, evidently you'd been rich in something else—your genetics. Something in your blood they knew to be optimal for continuing the royal line. Truthfully it'd been a godsent that they'd given you until your twentieth birthday. It was only because they'd needed time to discover the cure.
To time, to death, to life—whatever you called it, it stopped your heart and froze you in time. But something went wrong, and everything stopped. As did the flow of blood from between your legs every month.
You allowed parliament to believe the cure had worked, and you never said a word to Bakugou.
Not until now.
If you had a heartbeat, it'd be in your ears by now, as you raise a knuckle to tap softly on the thick oak of his bedroom door. Two taps, a pause, and then another. The same sequence you've done for the last twenty odd years. You find it strange that at thirty, you still feel like a child.
No sooner do you feel the reverberation of the final tap does the door swing open, giving way to the same broad chest you've been yanked into for the entirety of your life. You feel some grief in knowing that there will be an end to it, someday.
"And here I thought y'finally found y'r way out of my castle."
He holds you close—speaks his words softly and without any malice into your hair as he shuts the door behind you.
"Never, my lord," you tell him, and there is a truth in it that he will never know, "not ever."
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heich0e · 9 months
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Touya's not usually one to check his text messages.
Never has been, ever since he got his first cellphone when he was 13. He finds it more of a nuisance than anything, the way people always want to get ahold of him. Always expect a response from him over the most mundane shit. He barely likes talking to anyone as is, let alone during his private time—therefore, as a general rule, he doesn't respond to texts.
Especially not ones that pop up on his phone on a lazy Saturday afternoon with the contact name 'Bird Brain' listed as the sender.
But when these particular message previews appear, rudely interrupting him in the middle of watching a cake decorating video while he lays sprawled across the couch, Touya can't help but click through to the conversation to give them the response that they deserve.
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His response is about as succinct and unamused as he is.
Three telltale dots appear at the bottom of the conversation before Touya can click away, and he finds himself waiting to see what Keigo comes back with—for reasons not even he quite understands.
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Touya pushes himself up off the couch in an instant, stomping into your bedroom.
He finds himself hesitating once he makes it to the doorway, his body having moved relatively of its own accord, realizing only once he's standing at the threshold that he's not even really sure what he's going to say.
You're laying across the bottom of your bed on your tummy with your sock-clad feet lifted in the air behind you. You have one headphone in your ear and your laptop propped in front of you with that stupid romantic drama you like so much playing—the one Touya pretends he hates but always gets a little pouty when you watch an episode without him. You turn when you spot him in your peripheral vision, popping your headphone out of your ear and hitting the spacebar to pause your show.
"I'm almost done," you tell him, glancing back to your screen where the male lead is paused mid-confession—his mouth still open in the middle of his ardent monologue. You peer back at him again over your shoulder with a slightly smug look. "If you hadn't watched ahead without me we could be watching it together, y'know."
"That was an accident," Touya grumbles, sniffing a little indignantly. "It started playin' automatically when I turned the TV on."
"Sure, sure," you chirp, turning back to your laptop. When you realize Touya's still lingering there, you face him again, this time pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can twist around to look at him more fully. Your brow furrows. "What's wrong?"
Touya sucks in a breath of air and holds it in his cheeks, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"Can I see your phone for a sec?" he asks.
The pinch of your brow slackens as one of them lifts in surprise.
"Yeah," you say, though your tone is still a little wary. You nod towards your bedside table at the head of the bed. "It's plugged in."
Touya shuffles towards you, rounding the end of your bed frame and approaching the device in question. He sit down at the edge of the mattress, and it dips under his weight. Beside him, you shuffle a bit closer to him as you resume watching your show, one of your feet brushing gently against his back as you kick them idly back and forth.
Touya knows your passcode, just like you know his, so it's no effort to unlock the device once he has it in hand. Finding the app in question is another story entirely.
He turns to you.
"Which one of these is Instagram?" he asks, holding the device in front of your face with the home screen open.
You pause your show again.
"This one," you say, pointing to one particular app icon, but your voice is notably perplexed.
Touya's never had any interest in social media. He had a couple of accounts when he was a teenager but hasn't properly logged in for years. As new social networking sites have risen and fallen, he's never bothered to even sign up, seeing no need in signing away his personal data to a platform he'll never use anyway.
Touya taps his thumb against the icon that you pointed out, waiting for the application to launch. His leg jiggles impatiently while he waits for it to load.
Beside him, you don't unpause your show.
When the screen finally loads, Touya is immediately accosted by an unfamiliar interface. There's some photo of a girl he doesn't know taking up most of the screen, and a few bubbles in the upper right hand corner that he can only assume are notifications you haven't checked. Touya may not use social media, but he's not an idiot either, so after clicking around the screen for long enough he finally manages to pull up what he recognizes as your personal profile.
"Touya, what are you doing?" you ask, thoroughly bewildered now, having just watched your boyfriend visit just about every corner of the Instagram app.
He sucks in a sharp breath.
Slowly, he turns to look at you.
"Did you just post this?"
He doesn't really need to ask, considering the baggy t-shirt you're wearing in the photo—his t-shirt, he recognizes immediately—is the same one you currently have on as you lie stretched across your bed. It's all you have on, save for the frilly little socks on your feet and the edge of the panties he can see peeking out where your shirt's hem has ridden up.
The photo blessedly has left those out.
You clear your throat, almost like you're embarrassed, reaching out for your cellphone. "Yeah, a little while ago."
Touya holds the device out of your reach, and a little sound of indignation slips from your lips. He keeps scrolling.
Your profile is full of photos of you that are just as charming as the first one he'd seen. Some are of friends, or food, or places you've visited. Many are even of him, or the two of you together. The collection is like a series of little snapshots into your life—of all the moments you wanted to save or share. But every so often there will be a photo just of you.
You with your lips pursed coyly, or maybe quirked with the ghost of a smile. You wrapped in a skimpy little dress you bought for a special occasion that Touya is all too familiar with. You with your eyes bright, or maybe one where they're heavy lidded in a sultry expression that makes something possessive and primal scrape against Touya's ribs.
His face feels hot when he looks at those ones. Hotter still when he realizes other people have seen them too.
"I think you should delete your account," he says suddenly, turning to face you with a completely serious—and markedly insistent—expression.
"W-what? Touya!" You exclaim plaintively. You push yourself up onto your knees and scrabble for your phone. Touya doesn't fight back to any real degree. He lets you crawl into his lap and wrestle it out of his hands, though the two of you do go tumbling back across the bed in the process. Once you've safely tossed the phone down to the other end of the bed out of his reach, you turn back to him with an irritated pinch to your features.
Touya meets your gaze easily, like a man without guilt.
"What's gotten into you?" you ask him softly, still straddling his lap. Your hands rest over his sternum, fiddling idly with the strings of his hoodie.
Touya sighs, reaching up and tugging you down to his chest before snaking his arms around your waist to keep you pressed against him. You don't try and wiggle out of his grip like he thinks that you might, instead you let him hold you, nuzzling your face into the collar of his sweatshirt.
"You're being weird," you mumble.
"No, weird would be me asking you to throw your phone away and never leave the house again so I'm the only one who gets to look at you," Touya replies, his fingers dipping under the hem of your—his—shirt and creeping up along your spine. "I'm actually being pretty normal, all things considered."
You huff out a little laugh and Touya feels the warmth of it break against the skin of his throat. You lift your face so you can look at him, and Touya admires the view of you from so close up. The curve of your lips, the colour of your eyes, the tip of your nose. He could look at you all day, he realizes then. Every part of you. Every inch and dip and curve that makes you up. He could study them. Map them out with his eyes closed, long committed to memory.
You make him feel kind of insane, sometimes. More insane than usual, anyway. He worries that he likes you too much.
"What are you thinking about?" you ask him quietly.
You.
Touya purses his lips.
It wasn't his intended goal, but he's happy to accept the little kiss you press against them anyway, a laugh slipping out of his mouth and into yours before you pull away. He shuts his eyes, letting his head tip back against the bed again, letting out a long, exhausted breath.
"Wanna help me set up an instagram account?" he finally mutters after a long stretch of silence.
You push yourself up overtop of him, and when he cracks one eye open he finds you looking down at him excitedly.
"Really?" you ask him incredulously, but undeniably pleased by the prospect.
He nods a bit, pulling you back down against his chest. He lets his eyes shut once more.
If deleting your account is out of the question, he might as well have his own so at least he gets to admire it.
You wiggle comfortably in Touya's hold, your TV show long forgotten at the other end of the bed, content to just let your boyfriend trace lazy circles into your thigh as your legs tangle together with his.
Touya's eyes pop open again suddenly, an unpleasant and not-so distant memory rushing back to him.
Your gaze meets his own, a quiet concern swimming behind it.
He takes your face in his hand.
"How do you block someone on Instagram?"
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sweet-honey-tears · 1 year
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⦿ Home/Lock Screen ⦿
What the BHNA boys lock/Home Screen look like?
Characters: Kiribaku, ShinKami, Dabi x GN!Reader
Hi everyone, back again! This concept wasnt requested but I got asked about a certain character combination -so yeah! I hope you like it( I won’t say who you are but I hope you enjoy it!😊) each character has a different Lock Screen/Home screen! I hope you enjoy! And as always, request are always welcomed! Bye~🤍
Kirishima + Bakugou
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» Lock Screen «
Bakugou’s Lock Screen is back from UA. It's a picture of you sitting at your desk. You're tipping over in your chair. One of your hands in the air and the other trying to grab onto the desk. You have a leg leaving the chair like you're kicking a soccer ball. The other leg is trying to touch the ground again. You have this look of pure panic on your face. And in the corner, you can see the quick moment(a blurry flash) of Bakugou running over to help you. He looks almost angry like he’s about to yell ‘dumbass!’. Denki took the picture, trying to catch a photo of Kirishima with his concentration face on. But instead, it’s a picture of Kirishima, mi-yell, and a large arm reaching over his desk to try and stop you from tipping over. His eyes are wide.Katsuki smiles every time he sees it, it’s just so stupid and funny. It reminds him of both of you.
» Home Screen «
Bakugou’s Home Screen is a more recent photo. It’s of you and Kirishima. You have Bakugou's old skull shirt on, the faded material hanging off you. You lay against Kirishima's side, your head resting on his shoulder. Kiri’s arm is slung around you, his head slightly tilted back. You’re both fast asleep. And Bakugou is pretty sure he can see drool on Kirishima's chin. There’s a half eaten bowl of popcorn sandwiches between you two. And an All Might blanket covering you and Kirishima's lap. Balugou keeps it as his home screen because it’s more personal to him. Something he feels is sentimental- something he doesn’t want his fans to see by accident.
» Lock Screen «
Kirishima's Lock Screen is a picture of you and Bakougu cooking. You’re both standing side by side at the stove wearing aprons as you work. Yet Bakugou’s hand is in your back pocket, his thumb hanging out in case he needs his other hand. The photo only shows the back of your heads as the both of you do something so… domestic. But at that moment, you both kept shoving each other, talking about the latest villain. Trying to compete with each other on who could cut the most carrots.
» Home Screen «
Kirishima's Home Screen and pictures of you, himself, and Bakugou at a waterpark. Your body is sandwiched between theirs. Kirishima has one large arm wrapped around your waist and Bakugou has one wrapped around your shoulders. His fingers grazed Kirishima's broad shoulders. You have your hands resting on their lower backs. Both you and Kirishima are smiling, and Bakugou is grinning. His dimples showing up.
🔥 Dabi 🔥
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» Lock Screen «
Toya’s Lock Screen is of you eating an Oreo. It was right after a rather shitty mission and you're just sitting at the bar, eating Oreos. You still have soot on your face, and small scratches, but here you are- at the bar eating cookies. You have it cracked in half, so one side is a cookie and the filling and the other is just a cookie. Your front teeth are sunk into the cream, and there are clear drag marks from you scooping the filling out with your teeth like a shovel. The best part of the photo is you’re flipping off the camera. You look angry and Dabi finds the scene fucking hilarious and adorable. Like a toddler, just eating cookies angrily. You're giving Dabi the worst side-eye he’s ever seen.
“You want some milk too”
“Shut up”
» Home Screen «
If you’re wondering, his Home Screen is a very old photo of his siblings he found in the paper. It’s personal. Hidden. You understand.
⚡️Denki + Shinso 💤
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» Lock Screen «
Denki’s Lock Screen is little Eri dressed up as a pikachu. Yes, he has pretty much claimed her as his little sister.
» Home Screen «
Denki’s Home Screen is of You, Shinso, and himself at the last concert you went to. You’re on Shinso’s shoulders, an arm in the air yelling along with the lyrics. You have one of Denki’s chokers on and eyeliner that he drew on you. Your ripped band t-shirt is pulled upwards at your movement.
Shinso has a black band shirt on with his long-sleeve white and dark purple striped shirt underneath. It hugs his arms tight, leading to the loose second layer. His ringed fingers rest on your legs, ensuring you stay upright and safe. He has, his snake bites in ( he usually takes out due to work) and his black stud and off screen your hand is cupping his face right behind his ear. He’s smiling at the camera, while you're completely oblivious.
Denki’s holding his phone to catch the two of you and a section of himself. His lighting bolt and chain piercings are on full display to the camera. He’s smiling brightly, a little tipsy but extremely happy.
» Lock Screen «
Shinso Home Screen and Lock Screen is one picture split up. His Lock Screen is of you and Eri. Eri sitting crisscrossed in front of you as you do her hair. Twisting the blue-gray strands into a space bun. A brush, bobby pins, and red hair clips lay next to you. The both of you are laughing and looking off into the distance. Where in the cover of the screen, two hands are reaching out. The fingernails were painted vibrant pink. There are plastic rings on them, some from Eri’s old toy chest. One is a huge fake diamond and the other is a cheaply painted plastic cat face.
» Home Screen «
Shinso’s Home Screen is the rest of the photo. Denki is laying on his stomach, his sweet smile peeking out from over his shoulders. He’s wearing one of Eri's cat headbands, causing his golden hair to spike in all different directions. He has a temporary tattoo on his cheek, a yellow lightning bolt that Eri picked out for him. Shinso had one too. A black back on the top of his hand. One of the best parts about it is that it’s a Live Photo. When Shinso presses down on the Lock Screen, your shoulders move as you laugh and Eris' confused face breaks out a larder smile. Her hands clasped as her eyes close in laughter. The hands on the corner of the screen move as if showing off the rings on them.
When Shinso presses down on the Denki portion of the picture, Denki's mouth moves. The audio is of Denki speaking in a very sassy female voice. ‘How ya doing?’
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cupofmiko · 1 year
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WHEN IT FEELS RIGHT - midoriya izuku x f!reader 
five times you fall for midoriya izuku.
genre: friends to lovers au, pro hero au | fluff, smut 
warnings: aged up characters, you are a U.A. general studies graduate, Deku is taller than you idc, Ochako is a good friend <3, minor violence, making out, dry humping, smut at the end! SMUT: car sex, izuku using “good girl” and “pretty girl” because i have a problem, some soft dom!deku, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 9k 
a/n: 2023 traci has returned as an izuku simp. In the past year, i feel like i have turned over every stone and have read every izuku fic i could get my hands on - so i decided to add a stone of my own.
1. 
As soon as you answer the phone, the words are already prepared. “No.” 
On the other side, Uraraka laughs. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say!” 
“I saw your text!” you rebuff, but you’re smiling. “I know you know I got the job.” 
“Even more of a reason to celebrate!” she whines. “Not only did you graduate with honors but you got a job at Denki’s agency!”
You readjust the phone at your ear, drumming your fingers on the table. “Exactly, it’s Denki’s agency. He knew who I was before he hired me. Forget celebration, it’s borderline nepotism.” 
Uraraka makes a noise of protest. “We both know that Denki was only present at your final interview, and we both also know that the hiring manager had already made up her mind before Denki knew you were getting hired. Don’t undermine your accomplishments, I won’t let you!” 
Your friend’s fierce loyalty to reinforcing the truth makes you pause, because it’s true. Kaminari Denki was always more of a schoolmate rather than a friend, part of the Class 1A group of aspiring heroes that you knew of through your blossoming friendship with Uraraka Ochako. The pair of you met through a class project and have kept in touch ever since. You kept up with each other’s lives over the next many years: Uraraka breaking the top twenty hero rankings, and you breaking into the growing pains of attending university. Pair that with a few study abroad opportunities post-college, leading you to where you are now. Back in Japan, a few weeks away from starting at Chargebolt’s agency. 
And your best friends wants to celebrate. 
On the phone, Uraraka says your name softly, conveying her seriousness. “C’mon. It’ll be super lowkey, promise. I’ll host. No fancy restaurants, no loud music at the bar. Getting a new job is always a new and exciting opportunity. Let’s celebrate that with some friends!” 
You sigh. Uraraka always knows what to say. Call it her genuine nature or stubborn determination. “Fine, fine. Thank you, Ochako.” 
“You can thank me by showing up!” she responds cheerily. 
That conversation was a week ago, and you now stand in front of Uraraka’s home - a beautiful unassuming place of dark wood and brick exterior surrounded by bamboo. You knock on the door, waiting a moment before the door swings open. The easily recognizable Kirishima Eijiro flashes you a grin. “Hey, look who’s here!” 
Kirishima always makes you smile, even when you were kids. “Hi Eijiro, long time no see.” 
One-armed hug later, and you are stepping into the home. Despite the more secluded exterior of Uraraka’s house, the inside is brighter with beige paint and long windows immediately filling you with warmth. A small collection of shoes are already gathered near the entrance, and your own shoes join soon enough. 
Having been in Uraraka’s home many times, you easily navigate through the entry way into the living room where all the voices of guests loudly echo through the house. When you make yourself known, the attention shifts to you and the greetings start. 
All sorts of people, current friends and past classmates, come forward. Names you’ve heard in circulation from Uraraka and others come over to you for congratulations, but all people you were at least on a first-name basis with while at U.A. Most of them are your fellow general studies students, all of whom have jobs in the hero industry with a mutual connection to Uraraka. Lots are also from the hero course, who greet you cheerily despite how long it has been since you’ve seen each other. 
Face-to-face, at least. “You guys have no idea how much I’ve seen you all on the news, even when I was working abroad. It’s crazy how well all of you have been doing in the hero ranks,” you exclaim.
Ashido Mina sighs loudly. “Well, when you’re the generation responsible for rebuilding hero society, you just feel the eyes on you all the time. I think we’re just lucky things are working out the way they are, because that’s definitely helping the rankings.” 
From behind, Kaminari Denki puts an arm around you. “Well, at least you’ll be here to come along on the adventure.” 
You glance at him, grinning. “I should have you to thank for that then, boss.” 
Beside you, Bakugou Katsuki scoffs. “Idiot. Dunce Face here probably doesn’t know the difference between HR and PR. You got the job because you’re qualified and hardworking, aren’t you?” 
A compliment, from Bakugou of all people, warms you up a little with pride. He’s definitely leveled out since graduation. Still with that fiery temper of course. But he’s gentler. 
Not gentle enough though. Kaminari looks appalled at the insult. As the two of them spiral off into their own argument, you look around at all the hero course students who showed up. Actually, all the Class 1A heroes have shown up, with the exception of one. 
You tilt your head, eyes finding Uraraka. “Where’s Midoriya?” 
Bakugou overhears, turning away from Kaminari. The latter turns stony at being dismissed. “That Deku is an idiot. Took over patrol for one of his sidekicks, so he’ll be late.” 
Despite having not seen Midoriya Izuku in years, taking over patrol for a sidekick still somehow seems on brand for him. Too selfless, too thoughtful. 
The party is in full swing after the initial reunion conversations are made. Despite the intention of the party, you are glad that you are not the sole focus. Most people branch off into mini groups to have smaller conversations with one another, catching up or chit-chatting. You find yourself caught up in a conversation with Mina, Bakugou, Kirishimia, and Momo, mainly discussing abroad opportunities and sharing the experiences. 
About an hour into the party, there is a knock at the door. 
“I’ll get it!” you call, knowing that Uraraka is busy with Shouto replenishing the ice bucket. You reach the front door, opening it. There stands Midoroiya Izuku, but not the Izuku you remember. He’s taller, curly green hair, broad shoulders. He’s grown into his features. Oh dear, you think to yourself, he’s cuter than you remember. “M-Midoriya!” you exclaim, doing well to ignore the warning in your heart. 
He smiles, soft familiar eyes. He returns with your name, immediately going into it in a way you have almost forgotten. “I haven’t seen you in forever! How have you been? Congratulations on your job, Denki told us all about it after your final interview! He was so surprised to see you, as was I. Last I heard about you, Ochako said you were doing some internship abroad. Not that I don’t keep up to date about you! Er, nor do I try to ask too many questions about you to Ochako, that seems a little invasive. I’ve just been busy myself. Being a hero is great and everything! But with the cases we take on and traveling and working, it can get difficult…” 
Your eyes are wide. This part about Izuku is familiar; his ever-present ability to go on any tangent and ramble. Back in high school, you were definitely closer to Izuku compared to some other students from Class 1A. But, again, it all stemmed from your friendship with Uraraka. The last time you actually saw Izuku was two years after high school graduation. But that version of Izuku is so much different than the Izuku standing before you - packed with muscle, experience, and fame. 
“Midoriya, it’s good to see you too,” you return once he’s trailed off, seeing that as an opportune moment to jump in. “And no need to apologize. I’m sure it is challenging being the number one hero.” 
At that, he goes nervous, scratching the back of his neck. “W-Well, just want to follow All Might, you know? Help make sure society feels safe again.” 
“I’m glad to hear it,” you say. “Come on, I didn’t mean to keep you outside for so long.” 
Izuku laughs at that, stepping in and removing his shoes. He straightens up, looking at you. “How have you been?” 
As the pair of you go deeper into the house, you continue your conversation. The one consistent thing about Izuku is his friendly nature, his ability to keep up a discussion. Even as you lead him into the kitchen to say hello to his friends, his attention never leaves you. He says his quick hello’s, but always returns back to you to resume the conversation. 
Used to getting lost in the sea of a crowd, you feel warm with something beyond pride. It’s a softer feeling, a strange kind of affection building up inside of you. 
Eventually, after Izuku makes his rounds in the living room, he finds you opening up a ginger ale on the couch. “Mind if I join you?” 
You blink up at him, momentarily surprised that he’s still talking to you. Last you saw him, he was talking to Bakugou, which is where you assumed he would be for the rest of the night. “Of course!” 
He sits on the couch. “So when did you move back home?” 
You hum. “Last month. I feel like I had to hit the ground running by applying to as many jobs as possible when I landed. I am really lucky that Denki’s agency hired me. It’s in a pretty good neighborhood, so finding an apartment wasn’t too difficult.” 
“That’s good.” Izuku nods. “What made you want to move back? Was the abroad stuff not working out?”
You ponder. “Not that it wasn’t working out. The experience was great, but I think just getting…” 
“Homesick?” he offers. 
You nod, smiling. “Yeah. Ochako sent me a video of the cherry blossoms this past spring and I don’t know. That’s what did it for me.” 
He hums with agreement. His attention is not unlike how it was when you were kids. But it feels different. The confidence radiates off of him like steam, the years of knowledge navigating the pro hero world and climbing his way to the top being felt so clearly from the way he holds himself. And you feel that initial attraction similar to finding a stranger attractive pinging through you. It makes your smile just a little wider, your attention hold just a little longer, and your eyes linger. You wonder if he’s thinking something similar. 
People start making their leave towards midnight, citing early patrol hours or work as reasons to leave. It doesn’t matter, you enjoyed the party all the same. 
Since you still have some off-time before officially starting work next week, you offer to stay behind with Ochako to clean up. And if Izuku lingers by your side a bit too long before leaving, making you promise him to stay in touch; and if Uraraka gives you that look while you start tossing paper plates into the trash can - you miss it. 
2. 
You hear Chargebolt before you see him, as it always goes at the agency. His energetic personality captures him during all hours of the day, meaning that he can make conversation with nearly everyone at his agency as well as serve as that friendly, protective face to the people of the neighborhoods he patrols. 
You’re in the middle of writing up an email when you hear a knock at your cubicle. Denki stands just outside the perimeter of your desk, all dressed up in his hero outfit and clearly about ready to go on patrol. He greets you. 
“Chargebolt, is everything okay?” you ask, trying to be formal with his hero name. 
Denki grins sheepishly. “I’m actually asking you something un-hero related. Uraraka is making plans for mini-golf with the group after work. You in?” 
You straighten up slightly at the unexpected invitation. “Sure,” you say, smiling. “Do you know who’s going?” 
“Probably those who took the morning shifts for patrol. As far as I know it’ll be Uraraka, Asui, Jiro, Momo, Tenya, Kacchan, and Izuku. And me.” 
The mention of Izuku’s name makes you jolt slightly with heightened interest. “Sounds like a good crowd,” you manage, trying to sound as normal as possible. “I’m down.” 
“Cool, I’ll let Uraraka know,” he says, looking down at his phone for a moment before looking back up at you. “By the way,” he starts. “Something going on between you and Deku?” 
Your heart stammers at that. For a second, you worry your internalized secret has gotten out. That you suddenly like Izuku differently now after all these years. “What do you mean?” 
For someone whose entire personality hinges on silliness and an easy-going nature, Denki’s look is surprisingly clear. “Nothing specific. You guys were talking a lot at the party. And just now, Izuku said we should invite you. Was just wondering if there was something going on there. Or if something happened after the party.” 
“Um…” you stammer. “N-Nothing happened! We didn’t do anything after the party either! We’re just… friends.” 
Denki gives you another look, before he shrugs. “I was just curious. Anyways!” His thoughtful observation is replaced with his usual cheery smile. “I’m going out to patrol, but should be back in time for us to go to the mini golf place together. If you’re cool with that.” 
You give him a weak thumbs-up. “I am. See you soon then.” 
With some fingerguns, Chargebolt is off. 
The remaining day is a slow six hours of work. You answer some emails, write out some sentences for an upcoming newsletter your boss wants you to write. But you are finishing up sending over some drafts and photos to your department just as Chargebolt is strolling back into the office. 
He passes by your cubicle, knocking on it twice with his knuckles. “I’ll be ready in five minutes, that cool?” 
You click and clack a few more letters before hitting enter. “Yep, I’m almost done myself.” 
Denki nods. “Okay, let me change. Be right back!!!” he dashes down to his office, returning a few seconds later in his casual clothes. You’re just about finished packing up just as Denki returns. Together, the pair of you leave the office and make your way to the subway station. Your initial worries about Denki attracting attention are whisked away when you notice how easily he can blend into a crowd. 
You voice this thought to him as the pair of you board the train. 
“Sometimes, not attracting attention is just as important as attracting attention,” he says. 
It is a quick ten minute ride to the destination - a trendy neighborhood that is teetering with people despite the fact that it is a Thursday night. The mini golf is located on the first floor of the big mall, decked out with some cliche nighttime assortment of black lights and Kpop blasting through the speakers. 
You and Denki are the last to arrive at the mini golf experience, a place you notice is decidedly too empty for a relatively popular weeknight activity. 
You echo that sentiment to Denki, who only grins in response. “Uraraka rented the whole space out for us,” he explains. “Probably didn’t want to cause a commotion once the public realized how much pro-heroes would be here.” 
To further emphasize his observation, you notice a sign by the check-in desk. Reserved for a birthday party. We apologize for any inconvenience. 
With a nod to the worker, you and Denki step further into the venue. Before you is a mini golf course you could only describe as a very high tech, borderline boujee course. Each hole had different colors, RGB lights along the borders of each course. Each one has a different design, some playing with scale (you catch sight of a blown up air hockey course), some playing with altitude, and some playing with classic mini golf concepts (you, of course, see the windmill turning) up ahead.
Off to the side is the snack and resting area, tables scattered about with the heroes occupying one of them. 
“So who’s birthday is it?” Denki exclaims as a greeting, causing the other heroes to turn around and shout out their greetings. 
Your eyes find Izuku’s, who sends you a shy wave from next to Iida. You smile and wave back. 
The group starts shortly after. To remain faithful to the true rules of mini golf, as per Bakugo’s words, you all agree to tackle the mini golf courses by number. You all start at hole one and one by one, the different heroes take their turns swinging. The turns are Momo, Jiro, Asui, Uraraka, Bakugo, Denki, and Izuku. You had elected to go last, mostly to allow the peace and quiet as the others in your group move onto the next hole as soon as they score. 
You notice that Izuku, however, does not move onto the next hole with the others. He picks up his golf ball from the hole and makes his way back over to you. “This wasn’t a bad hole!” he exclaims, smiling. “You just need to aim a little to the right.” 
You tilt your head. “Aren’t you going to go to the next hole?” 
He shrugs, still smiling. “Who’ll cheer you on when you get the hole-in-one?” 
Although the question seems innocent, the thoughtful nature makes your heart speed up. How can this man be so considerate towards someone you could consider to be almost a stranger again? 
You swallow down the nerves. “I don’t know,” you answer meekly. “I’m pretty bad at this. Your confidence in me is definitely misplaced.” 
You do take his advice and angle yourself slightly to the right before putting the ball. You watch as it races down the course, right into the hole. 
Izuku grins, tucking the club underneath his arm to clap his hands. “Woooo! Looks like things are heating up over here, folks!” 
“Stop…” you whine, pouting as you turn warm with embarrassment as you approach him. “Well, I guess I had a pretty good coach.” 
He untucks the club from his arm, sending you a wink that jolts through you. “I knew I saw something in you, rookie.”
At his stare, your pout turns into a small private smile. It’s one that he returns, until Denki calls for the two of you. “Quit flirting lovebirds! You’re two holes behind!” 
Quickly, you and Izuku pull away. Although Izuku continues to stay by your side during the remainder of the course in order to chat, neither of you address Denki’s comment. Nor do you make any comments about coaching or rookies again. 
The rest of the evening goes by without a hitch. Unsurprisingly, Bakugo wins with the most hole-in-ones. 
The whole group ends mini golf to a cold, fall night. It’s past midnight at this point, and with that comes a chill that only happens during the late nights. You shiver, wrapping your coat tighter around you as the others start saying their goodbyes. 
On instinct, your gaze falls to Izuku. He meets your eye and flashes an easy smile. “Hey, it’s a bit late. Can I drive you home?”
A heartbeat in your throat. You try to play it off with a smile. “You have a car?” 
He grins. “Course I do. Sometimes it helps with keeping the privacy of having to drive a drunk friend home.” 
You laugh, taking a mental note to ask him about it later without the prying eyes of other heroes. “The ride is very sweet, Midoriya. I don’t want to take too much of your time though.” 
“I insist,” he says. 
So you nod to yourself first, and then to him. “Sure,” you breathe. 
From behind, someone clears their throat. Izuku blinks out of his trance. “Oh, Kacchan! Need a ride?” 
You turn your head to look at Bakugo, who is watching you both carefully. He scoffs. “No way, nerds. Would rather take the subway.” Without acknowledgement, he stalks away, leaving the two of you behind. 
Izuku, used to Kacchan’s dismissive behavior, doesn’t bat an eye. He just levels you with a stare, his green eyes soft. “Just the two of us then.” 
The two of us echoes in your mind as you follow Izuku to his car, the goodbyes and departing words of your friends feeling thousands of miles away. It’s cool. You’re cool. You and Izuku have been alone loads of times before back when you were at school; this shouldn’t be any different. This can’t be any different. Nothing, not even your own heart, could convince you otherwise. 
3.
“So.” 
You look up from your plate of pasta, leveling Uraraka with a stare. “So?” 
Uraraka is stirring her lemon tea, exchanging a quick look with Kyoka Jiro before letting go of the straw. “I was patrolling with Deku the other day.” 
The mention of Izuku is curious, sure, but you ignore the louder thump in your chest. Truthfully, after the party and the mini golf, you elected to try and stomp away the attractive pull you felt towards him for the sake of your own sanity. After all, it has been so many years since you and Izuku last talked. The possibility of him feeling that spark with you was near zero. Having made peace (for the most part) with that realization, you respond to Uraraka’s observation. “Okay.” 
Uraraka is still watching you carefully. “I found out he may or may not have some interest in you.” 
Interest in you? You somehow choke on your own saliva, hutching over as you try to cough out your shock. Jiro’s hand is at your back, patting it. “You okay?” 
You drink half your cup of water in response. “How…” you manage, coughing a bit more. “How did you find out?” 
Uraraka smiles. “Deku has been my friend for years, I can tell. Also, he is not as subtle as he thinks he is. He was asking about you during patrol.” 
You tilt your head at that, mind and throat much clearer than it was five seconds ago. “He didn’t want to ask me anything himself?” 
She shrugs. “You guys haven’t spoken for years. I’m sure he didn’t want to come on too strong by asking some of the questions he was asking.” 
That makes you narrow your eyes. “Like what? What would he need to ask you about?” 
Her smile turns into a grin, one that curves around the fork. “Like if you were seeing anyone. And where exactly you stayed while you were working abroad.” 
You try to mentally deconstruct your pasta, suddenly all too aware of how hot your entire body feels. Hot with embarrassment? Hot with disbelief? Or hot with the knowledge that your own feelings weren’t completely one-sided? “T-Those would have been interesting questions to hear from him…” 
Uraraka is still looking at you. While that grin is still on her face, there is a touch of thoughtfulness in her eyes. “What do you think of Izuku?” 
Your brain feels like it is filled with butterflies, running a mile a minute. Your body feels like a fire has just been lit underneath with how warm everything seems to be getting. “He’s nice. A good listener, and an even better conversationalist. Sometimes I feel like big groups can drown out my voice, but he never made me feel like that. He was like that when we were kids, I remember, but I don’t know. It feels different now. I didn’t really think too much about this before, but he’s pretty cute now… I guess.” You tack on because you see Uraraka’s grin widen. 
“So, you like Izuku too?” 
If this were a cartoon, you imagine this is the part where a puff of smoke comes out of your head. You stammer, arms flailing about comically. “I-I mean, I wouldn’t put it like that… We’ve always been more acquaintances, so saying that I like him sounds a bit too strong. Not that I hate him, I do like him! Just…” 
“So there’s a new kind of spark and attraction, but you don’t want to jump the gun and say you do like him to avoid being too premature?” Uraraka cuts in gently, her previous teasing subsided. “I’m only teasing. I just wanted to try and warn you what was going on. I won’t tell Izuku anything, obviously. Girl code.” 
You leave Uraraka and Jirou feeling naturally unsettled, but almost relieved to have some part of your feelings validated. You weren’t the only one pondering, contemplating a ‘what-if’ scenario.
You’re about ready to put a pin in those feelings, perhaps until the next time someone brings up Izuku, until you hear your name being called. 
You turn, feeling a kind of rush wash over you. It’s the kind of feeling one gets from getting called out unexpectedly. It’s Izuku. You gap. “Midoriya!” you exclaim. You freeze slightly, realizing that he is on the clock right now. Might be better to call him properly. “I-I mean, Deku!” 
He smiles easily. “Hey, I thought it was you!” 
You smile back. “What are you doing here?” 
He tilts his head, confused, but then seems to realize something. “Oh, I’m patrolling here today. I know Jiro usually patrols here, but she mentioned needing to take the afternoon off.” 
His mention of Jiro makes you run hot. Uraraka and Jiro planned this?! 
“O-Oh,” you hum, trying to feign curiosity as opposed to giving away the fact that you know exactly where Jiro spent her afternoon. “That’s really nice of you.” 
“Ah, well of course!” Izuku manages, turning red at the compliment. “Any one of my friends would do the same for me.” A pause between the two of you. “C-Can I walk you to the station?” 
Despite the gossip exchanged with Uraraka and Jiro earlier in the day, you are still taken aback by his offer. You cannot stop the smile from forming on your lips. “The number one hero in Japan walking a mere civilian to the subway?” 
Izuku laughs, looking away briefly and running a hand through his hair. “You’re more than just a mere civilian. Let me walk you to the station.” 
You laugh with him. “Okay, Deku. I’ll allow it.” 
The walk to the station is short, but slow and peaceful. No area could feel more safer than with the number one Symbol of Peace walking the streets. As always, conversation with Izuku is easy. You talk about your first week at Chargebolt’s agency (“Everyone is very nice, and Denki is a good boss. Always on time with paperwork and giving us feedback on upcoming appearances and events!”), Izuku’s recent patrol with Ochako (“Really normal, nothing out of the ordinary happened!” he had managed, turning red), and any plans for the upcoming weekend (Izuku has patrol. You’re going furniture shopping to buy some quality of life goods for your new apartment.) 
Once you are outside the station, you turn to him. “Thank you for walking me, Symbol of Peace.” 
Izuku puts a hand on his chest. “I’m here for the people.” He seems to remember something, because he makes an alarmed expression. “Oh! Before you leave, I have something for you!” 
He digs into one of the many pockets of his hero suit, producing a small clear plastic envelope. “I was at this small little convention in the morning. I was going to give this to you the next time I saw you, since what were the odds of us running into each other here?” He hands over the envelope. 
You take it slowly. “You got me something? That’s so nice of you…” you trail off once you see what Izuku has gotten you. It’s a pin, intricate detailing and lines of silver tracing out a tree covered in cherry blossom petals. 
Ochako sent me a video of the cherry blossoms this past spring and I don’t know. That’s what did it for me.
He remembered. You look at him, heart bleeding with a strange fondness. “Deku, it’s beautiful.” 
“It’s nothing,” he brushes off. But he’s scratching the back of his neck again, gazing away, red cheeks. “Just saw it and thought of you. I hope it can always make you think of home, no matter if you decide to stay here or pursue another trip abroad.” 
“I love it,” you say firmly, already starting to open the clear envelope. Izuku hovers closely, wordlessly taking the plastic and leaving you with the pin. You remove the backing, clipping the pin into the strap of your bag so that it glimmers under the sunlight. “What do you think?” 
He smiles. “Pretty.” 
He’s just talking about the pin, you tell yourself. So you allow yourself to brighten, pretending like your conversation with Uraraka hadn’t happened. “Thanks!” You glance back at the station. “I should get going. Thank you again, Deku. I’ll cherish this.” 
You disappear into the station, scanning your card and easily navigating to the platform that’ll take you home. As you wake for the train to arrive, you look down at the new pin on your bag. You turn it gently between your fingers. Your heart feels as warm as the sun. 
4. 
You’re grabbing lunch at the convenience store when it happens. 
You’re browsing through some aisles, ready to grab a new flavor of instant ramen you’ve been excited about since hearing a coworker talk about it, as the glass doors of the store explode. Before you can react, your limbs freeze up and stick to the sides of your body. You gasp, unable to stop yourself from falling over in time to see a small group of villains enter the shop. 
Villain attacks aren’t exactly common nowadays, but they do pop up occasionally as you’ve heard on the news every once in a while. You just never thought you’d witness a robbery first-hand. You watch as the villains break off. One of them approaches the cashier, while the others start traversing the aisles to foods and snacks into duffle bags. You hear a few other store goers whimpering as the villains trek down their aisle. 
You don’t blame their nerves. Your own heart starts beating faster and louder as the steps and laugher grow closer. 
A few more steps and you see one of them at the end of the aisle. He sees you and laughs, possibly due to your immobile state. He assesses you before making his way over to you. 
And barely makes it two steps before a flurry of green lightning knocks him out of the way. 
You inhale sharply, eyes following the movement and feeling like relief wash over you like a wave when you see Deku pinning the man down. The villain scoffs, trying to wiggle his way out for a moment before he realizes who has caught him. 
“Holy fuck, it’s Deku!”
Across the way, Deku turns his head and meets your gaze. There is a flicker of something in his eyes, but it is immediately replaced with the warmth and safety of a number one hero. “I’m here now, is everything alright?” 
You try to nod, before remembering that you cannot move. “I-I can’t move,” you say. “I think it’s a quirk.” 
As the chaos amongst the villains rises, Deku takes advantage of the confusion to Blackwhip the rest of the group together. Although he maintains a mask of heroism and professionalism, he Blackwhips the rest of the villains with a noticeably heavy hand. 
It isn’t until the villains are handed over to the police, that the effects of the quirk go away, that you are checked up by a quirk doctor to ensure no long-term damage, that Deku can finally slip away long enough to see you. 
You straighten up from your position in the first-aid station as you see Deku approach. The closer he gets, the more that hero facade melts away. By the time he reaches you, he looks more like Izuku. Your Izuku. He is worried as he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you anywhere?” 
You shake your head, the weight of his hands on your cheeks a reassuring comfort. “I’m okay… Deku.” 
The use of his hero name brings him back to the reality of the situation - one where he is the hero, and you are the civilian. He brushes his thumb against your cheek, before pulling back. “Have you seen the quirk doctor yet?” 
You nod. “Yes. Everything is okay. It was weaker because the villain was using his quirk on all of us in the store.” You raise your arm, curling your fingers up and down. You grin up at him. “See? Good as new!” 
He stares down at your opened hand, seeming to weigh something in his head before he reaches over to lace your fingers together. The weight of his touch feels like sparks up your spine as you stare up at him. Even though you’re still next to the paramedics that were treating the light bruises you acquired from your fall, it feels like they could be in a different world. 
“Erm, Chargebolt asked me to drop off some paperwork since we’re working on a case together with a few other heroes. I felt my Danger Sense go off, but something about it was more urgent than usual. It only ever gets like that when…” he trails off, shaking his head, squeezing your hand once before letting go. “Anyways, I’m glad I got to you. And that you’re safe.” 
You nod, returning the smile. “Yes. Thank you for saving me, Deku.” 
He goes a little red. He opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by a call from the police, which turns him rather sheepish. “I shouldn’t be much longer with the police. Can you wait for me? Let me walk you home.” 
The urgency in his face lets you know that he doesn’t want to leave you out of his sight right now. Likewise, the thought of losing his protective gaze makes you feel exposed. At least, for now considering the afternoon you’ve experienced. “Sure,” you say, heart thudding. “I don’t mind waiting.” 
With one last little nod, he turns around and walks away. This leaves you alone with the two paramedics tasked with making sure you are okay. Both have been respectfully quiet during your conversation with Izuku, but are quick to investigate as soon as he leaves. 
“I didn’t know you were dating the number one hero,” one of them starts slowly, teasingly, as she cleans a wound on your cheek that she had already treated. 
You go warm. “I’m not,” you protest.
“Ooooh,” the first paramedic says disbelievingly. The silence is loud, as you suspect the two paramedics casting a glance between each other. “I see what’s going on.” 
“I’m not!” you insist louder, but something in you has a sinking feeling that they don’t believe you. 
Truthfully, you’re not sure you believe it yourself. 
5. 
izuku (9:15pm) - [hyper bunny jumping sticker] just finished up patrol! 
me (9:15pm) - wow, you’re actually getting out at a reasonable time!!!!! 
izuku (9:16pm) - i know!! luckily the most exciting thing today was trying to get a kitty out of a tree
me (9:16pm) - you really are a hero for the people 
izuku (9:16pm) - that’s what i’ve been saying this whole time! 
izuku (9:17pm) - what are you up to?
me (9:20pm) - sorry, still at the office :/ 
izuku (9:20pm) - ?????????
me (9:21pm) - i know, i know!!! but i promised denki i’d have this report finished by tomorrow. 
izuku (9:21pm) - denki made you stay late????? 
izuku (9:21pm) - brb gonna find him. i know where he lives 
me (9:22pm) - no!!!!! It’s okay!! he doesn’t know i’m still here. 
me (9:22pm) - i may or may not have told him I’d be out by 6. 
me (9:22pm) - [hyper bunny hiding behind a rock] 
izuku (9:22pm) - ……………….
izuku (9:23pm) - I’m coming over 
me (9:24pm) - what 
me (9:24pm) - izuku no 
izuku (9:24pm) - izuku yes 
izuku (9:24pm) - I’ll be there in 5 minutes 
You glare at your phone, a mix of anger yet fondness rushing through your blood. You look around at the empty Chargebolt agency now, internally wincing at yourself and complete inability to manage your time. You really thought collecting all that data and putting it together into a report would take a few extra hours. Not an entire night, like what is happening right now. You just wanted to make things perfect. 
Looking at the report now, it does look as good as you wanted. But was it worth staying behind that long? You’re not so sure. 
Your phone buzzes again. 
izuku (9:30pm) - i’m here 
On cue, there is a knock on the front door of the office. You slide back from your chair, navigate your way to the front, and find Izuku on the other side. He waves to you, purposefully ignoring your glare as he slides into the office. 
“Hi,” he greets. 
You continue to glare at him. “You should be asleep, not coming here just to babysit me!” you protest, pouting only when his grin grows bigger. “Besides, I’m almost done.” 
“How are you getting home?” he challenges. 
“With my legs! I’ll take the subway!” 
“Unacceptable,” he rejects. “Besides, you just said I was a hero for the people. You’re part of that people, so I have to be your hero too.” 
You huff. Damn him and his logic. “Fine,” you say, turning around and allowing him to follow you through the office. “I’m about done anyways. Let me just print everything and we can go.” 
“Yes ma’am,” he responds, smiling when you snort at him. 
Printing is simple. It’s just a five page report with graphics, statistics, and data; one that you leave on Denki’s desk with a post-it note, before you are packing up your desk. Your work laptop, your notebook with upcoming assignments and deadlines, your water bottle… Deku watches the process with his careful eyes. Eyes that flicker occasionally over to the entrance of the agency. 
You shoulder your backpack. “Okay, let’s get going.” 
So Deku leads you out of the building, where his car is parked right outside. There are still people out and about, after all it is only 9pm, but Deku doesn’t ease up on his watch as he opens the passenger door for you.
Izuku, whom you would consider more of a friend now after all the group hangouts you’ve shared together and the occasional one-on-one conversation from his offers to drive you home, asks you about your day as he drives you to your apartment. You explain that the craziness from a normal workday is why you were working so late on an additional assignment, and have to reassure him again that Denki had no idea you stayed as late as you had. 
Izuku talks about his patrol, leading into a conversation about TV shows the pair of you have been watching recently - ones that Izuku gets to watch on his day off. 
He is, and always has been, easy to talk to even in one-on-one settings. It feels like time rushes before he’s driving into your apartment complex. It is gated off from the rest of the city, only unlockable with a code he is familiar with. Once the gates open, he drives in. Normally, Izuku is good about dropping you off right at the front door. 
Sometimes, like this time, he drives in a little further so the pair of you can keep talking. He drives down the parking spaces, finding one in the far back corner away from lights and possible late-night walkers. He parks, settling down and facing you, laughing when you start laughing about an awkward situation that happened to you last week at the coffee shop. 
Your laughter starts to die down as you turn to face Izuku. “Thanks for driving me, Midoriya. You’re too nice to me.” 
He laughs, turning to look at you too, head against the headrest. “I like being nice to you.” 
The quiet has never felt so loud as your heart beats louder and louder; your eyes start taking him in. The glimmer from his center console screen reflects as blue in his eyes as he takes you in the same way you take in him. Heart in your throat, smiling slipping off your face, as you stare at him. There is an openness in his face not unlike the look he gave you after the villain attack, one of softness and something else. Something deeper. It's something that makes your heart pick up a little in your chest, afraid of the meaning but yearning all the same. 
Without thinking, you look at his mouth. Lips that look soft and warm, inviting you in. 
You don’t even realize you’re leaning in until Izuku’s face grows closer and closer. Until the ruffle of clothes show he’s shifting in his seat. Until you’re closing your eyes, and he is kissing you. 
Softly, suddenly, you inhale a breath, making a little squeak in the back of your throat. It’s a noise Izuku seems to take interest in, because he moves his mouth, pushing in further, and holding the back of your head. You try to match him, try to keep up with him despite your brain melting and your heart feeling as if it is about to spill out of your chest. Your hand lifts up, fingers lingering on his wrist to give yourself a piece of reality to hold onto. 
After he’s thoroughly traced your lips with his tongue, you separate. But Izuku doesn’t let you go too far, never lets you go too far, as he rests his forehead against yours. In the quiet of his car, the only sound is the sound of heavy breathing, of your mind reeling with what just happened. With just how much you like the man in front of you. 
“Are you okay?” Izuku whispers.
You swallow, opening your eyes and nodding. “More than okay,” you promise. 
A few seconds of quiet. “Do you want to keep going?” he asks. An open invitation to stay, or to leave. The latter seems like the most faraway choice at the moment. 
You press your lips together, wetting them. Izuku watches carefully. “Yes,” you answer. What entails keeping going, you have no idea. But the pressure in your stomach and the sirens in your mind singing for Izuku give a good idea of what you want. 
Izuku nods, a movement you feel more than see. He pulls back to look at you once more, but doesn’t stay away for too long. He answers by kissing you again, a light peck, before moving to the corner of your mouth, the edge of your jaw, down your neck. The hand at the back of your head tightens slightly, pulling at your hair as he tugs your head back to explore your neck. 
The light, tickling sensation floods your brain with cotton as you scramble. Your hands find his hair, wrapping around his neck and pulling at his shirt. More little noises form at the back of your throat, noises that whimper away as Izuku’s teeth gently mark at spots that make your thighs twitch. “M-Midoriya,” you whine. 
Izuku leaves a trail of kisses from your neck back to your mouth as he returns to you with more feverish intent than before. Tongue and teeth clash as you inch forward towards him. A few inches of center console space feel like thousands of miles. “Say my name,” he commands softly against your lips. 
“What?” you breathe out. “Midoriya?” 
He shakes his head, pecking you once, twice. “My name.” 
Oh. “Izuku…” you whisper.  
He pulls away suddenly. The sensation causes your eyes to flash open, taking in Pro Hero Deku, your Izuku, with his flushed skin and red lips and crazed eyes. He leans forward again with his whole body, gathering your waist in his arms. To him, you are but a feather as he easily maneuvers you from the passenger seat onto his lap, where your legs rest on either side of him. The hem of your skirt rides up with the gesture, the thin material of your panties doing little to the imagination. After an adjustment, you find that Izuku is hard, the imprint of his crotch right against your clit. 
The reaction is immediate. You jolt slightly, leaning more into Izuku, who wraps his arms around your back to keep you pressed against him. He noses your hairline. “Is this okay?” he whispers. 
His consistent checking in runs you hot as you lean back just enough to meet his gaze. “More than okay,” you reassure, ducking down enough to kiss him again. 
The pair of you continue like this for a little, his hands locked around your back as your fingers gently press against his chest. The intermingling of tongue and the loudness of your breath fill the empty space, until Izuku’s hands trace down your spine and settle down at the hem of your skirt. Slowly, he lifts it until the hem reaches your hips, where he stops to rest his hands at your bare skin. 
One back-and-forth movement of your hips against his crotch elicits a groan from him. You pull away with a sharp gasp, tilting your head back as Izuku continues guiding your movements across his dick. “Nnnn, Izuku!” you whine. “Feels so good…” 
Izuku hums, watching you hungrily. “Good girl, doing so well. Gonna take me so easily in this cute skirt.” 
You eye him half-lidded. “Really?” 
He smiles. “Really.” He leans forward, kissing at your collarbone, turning whatever words you were going to say next into cotton. He travels further downward this time, unbuttoning your blouse and tugging down your bra strap. His mouth captures a nipple, circling it with his tongue, the additional simulation making you cry out again as his other hand continues to guide you back-and-forth on top of his dick. 
You’re panting now, feeling absolutely soaked in your panties. Your giggle is a breathless whimper when he releases your nipple, only to return to it with a caress of his thumb. “That t-tickles.” 
Izuku looks up at you, thumb still circling your nipple, stars in his eyes. “You’re cute. Always so cute to me,” he hums. He removes his thumb, planting a gentle kiss where his thumb once was. You clench around nothing, moved by the sweet gesture. 
Slowly, the hand once at your nipple moves downward, grazing your hips and your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your panties and below, stopping to graze your clit gently through the fabric. You jolt, your brain running wild with a singular sensation: how much you want this man right now. 
“Fuck,” he groans. “So wet already…” he trails off, the comment mostly made for himself as he swiftly tugs your panties to one side and rubs your slit. The slipperiness of his touch shows you just how wet you have become. You’re almost embarrassed by the teenage-esque scenario of getting wet from something so simple, but Izuku’s groan quells your embarrassment. 
After a few rubs, he lines up his finger and sinks his index finger into your heat. The thickness of his finger runs you hot all over, another whimper leaving your lips as your hips rock gently against his hand. You lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Feels so good Izuku,” you whisper into his ear. His one finger is already much longer and thicker than your own, and the newness of the situation runs through your body like wildfire. 
“Yeah?” he whispers back, angling your hips outward just enough for him to slip in another finger. He groans. “Pretty girl, so wet and good for me…” 
A few more rocking movements before he removes his hand, bringing it up for the two of you to see. He separates his two fingers, watching as your essence glimmers under the streetlamp. Without a warning, he slips the fingers into his mouth. 
You squawk at that. “Izuku!” you gasp, feeling embarrassment run over you. 
He pulls his fingers out, laughing almost shyly. Unnerving, really, considering what the two of you have just been up to. “It’s good!”
Your own lips pull up slightly. Oh god, forget just liking this boy. The stuttering of your heart feels like it could be beyond that. “Oh my god Izuku.” 
“What?” he laughs again, wrapping both arms around you, bringing you chest to chest. “It’s you. Of course I’ll like it.” 
You pout, not sure whether you just hit him or kiss him. “You’re stupid.” 
“Sure, sure,” he says, gazing at you softly. He leans forward, and you meet him halfway. You kiss once, twice, thrice. His tongue slips into your mouth and you sigh. It’s easy, just as it has always been with Izuku. 
That ease is what drives your hands downward towards his pants, already unbelting his belt. 
He pulls away slightly, laughing against your lips. “You ready, pretty girl?” 
“Yes, yes please,” you whisper, pulling him out. He’s long, kind of thick too; you can tell just from touching him. 
Hands on your hips again, Izuku shifts you so that you are lined up with him. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” 
Slowly, he helps lower you down onto his dick, using his hand to perfectly line it up and push himself in. The push past the first ring of muscle makes your head spin, makes you breath heavy as you hold onto his hands for support. You tilt your head back, reminding yourself to breathe. 
Beneath you, Izuku isn’t faring much better. His heavy breathing mirrors yours as his hands grip your waist, likely grounding himself and telling himself not to go too fast. “Fuck,” he sighs. “So good. You’re so good. Fit me so well, fuck…” 
You can feel the flutters of your walls as Izuku pushes himself deeper and deeper. A thumb at your clit further relaxes you, allowing him to slip further and further in until you swear you feel him at your throat by the time your hips meet. Every little flutter causes Izuku’s hands to tighten. 
“Baby, baby- stop,” he grumbles, taking in deep breaths to calm himself. 
Yet, the use of the petname causes another flutter to your walls. You start to grind your hips into his. “Izuku,” you whimper, pawing at his chest. “Please… want you so bad…” 
His eyes open at lock onto yours. His hands loosen their hold, but not their control; he is slowing your movement down. “Really want you too,” he whispers bashfully, a little random given the fact that his dick is inside you right now. It makes you still, pulling back enough to look at him. To take in his soft glimmering eyes, gazing at you with a fondness that makes you warm for something beyond sex. Beyond friendship. Beyond this limbo you and Izuku have been caught in since that first reunion. “Really like you.” 
Your fingers curl around his shirt. “I really like you too.” 
His smiles, leaning over to kiss you one last time before his hands settle to start guiding you up and down. A whimper sounds from the back of your throat as your breathings start to pick up in time to his pace. Izuku adjusts his position to plant his feet on the floor, using that leverage to drive up into you with more speed. 
You cry out, “Oh, hhnng, yes, yes, Izu… Izuku…” The words keep getting caught in your throat as your fingers curl around his wrists. “Yes… yes…” In the haze of your movements, you are vaguely aware of your chest bouncing with the position. That is something Izuku takes full advantage of. He tugs down the other strap of your bra, causing the fabric to slip down your body. 
He leans forward to kiss, nip, lick, and breathe against the skin of your breast. Once both of his hands have settled on the curve of your ass, his thrusts become more precise and powerful. Vaguely, you are aware of the car shaking with the force of your movements. But all you can focus on is Izuku. His hands on your ass, his breath on your collarbone, the slapping of skin. 
“C’mon… c’mon pretty girl,” he urges, one hand moving to thumb at your clit. “Dripping for me. Want you to cum for me too…” 
You are wet. You can feel it through Izuku’s thrusts, and now with his thumb as it collects some leaving your slit in order to gently circle that bundle of nerves. 
“Aaah,” you whimper, tilting your head back, fingers digging into his shirt. The coil in your stomach is tightening, quickly edging itself to the surface. “Nnn, more…!” 
“C’mon, cum for me baby,” Izuku whispers, rubbing tighter circles on your clit, which is the final nail in the coffin. “That’s it… good girl…” 
His words become meaningless whispers in your mind as your body spasms with the force of your orgasm. Your knees try to close, try to escape Izuku’s hold, as your breath becomes shuttering gasps and moans. Izuku, however, never lets you go too far. His hold on you remains as he continues thrusting up into you. 
His growing groans ground you enough for you to fall into him, to whisper in his ear. “Izuku, please cum inside of me…” you manage weakly. 
His groans taper off as he gives you one last, determined thrust before spilling inside of you. He moans, pulling back and managing a few smaller thrusts to ride out of high. You whimper, taking it all, willing to do anything for him. 
You’re not sure how much time goes by before Izuku is speaking. “Wow.” 
You cannot help yourself. You start to laugh as you unlatch yourself from his neck. “Wow indeed.” 
You pull back enough to stare at him, only to find that Izuku is already looking. His eyes flicker across your face, likely accessing your condition. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb across the skin. “Are you okay?” 
You grin. “I’m great.” 
He smiles. “Good.” Without warning, his hand lowers down to wrap around your throat. Not tightly, just a weight to guide you forward towards him. For the hand around your throat, his kiss is tender. You lean back. “Want to go again?” 
You’re not surprised. He’s still hard after all. Your answer is a movement of your hips, which startles him into a groan. But it’s worth seeing his head tilt back as a groan escapes his lips. “F-fuck, okay pretty girl. Then we’ll go back to my place, okay?” 
Your own answer is interrupted by the small thrusts he starts coaxing you into by his hands moving down to spread your cheeks. “O-okay,” you whimper. 
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myheroacademiashorts · 7 months
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"Shut Up, I'm Trying to Ask You Out."
Katsuki Bakugo wasn't sure exactly when it started, but he was pretty sure he hated your guts.
It started during the first few days of school. You turned towards him, desk only a foot away from his, and smiled so brightly that it made his chest hurt. He thought he was sick, and after a useless trip to the nurse's office, found himself at the peak of health. It happened again not too long after, when you laughed at Dunce Face's stupid joke. He had felt his chest again, as well as a rush of heat to his ears. And the symptoms continued for months, still persisting. There was only one explanation to these weird reactions.
Katsuki hated you so much that it made his body react, too.
He glowered at you from across the classroom, watching you toss your head back as laughter spilled from your lips. One of your hands was grasping onto Dumb Hair's arm, and the sharp-toothed red head didn't seem to be complaining about it one bit. "Tch." Katsuki clicked his tongue, feeling that familiar pang once more before turning his gaze towards the window.
"Getting jealous again, are we?" Raccoon Eyes nudged his arm, wiggling her eyes between him and you.
"Hell no. What would I be jealous about? Over some shitty nobody? Yeah, right." Despite having just averted his gaze, Katsuki's ruby eyes tracked you down once more. You had removed your hand - thank hell - but instead of seeing your turned away face, the hot-headed boy met your steady gaze. He held it for a moment, and you titled your head at him. Almost curiously. Then you smiled, and that awful thump happened again. He turned back to the window, grinding his teeth together.
Yup. There was no better explanation. He really, really didn't like you.
And with all of his great fuckin' luck, he just had to have been caught "staring" at you by his "friends."
"Oh, to be young and in love!" Dunce Face dramatically pressed his hand to his forehead, swaying from side to side before falling gracefully into Racoon Eyes' arms. "Kiss me, Bakugou!" He said in a false falsetto, followed by a series of kissing noises. The pair erupted into giggles and shrieks as Katsuki sent a warning glare in their direction.
"I'm not in love. I hate her, remember?"
Racoon Eyes shook her head, propping herself up from the ground. "That's what you think. Have you ever even thought about the possibility that you might... gasp... have a crush?"
Katsuki didn't respond, only grumbling incoherently as he stared down at the book in his hands. It was supposed to be a study session, with Katsuki on the couch and the two idiots sitting in front of him, their homework splayed out on the coffee table in a jumbled mess.
"C'mon, Mina. That would mean Bakugo has a hear- ow." Dunce Face rubbed the back of his head, still registering that he was just smacked with Katsuki's heavy book. "Hey, you'll regret that."
Katsuki grinned. "Yeah? I'd like to see you fuckin' try."
Dunce Face's attention flitted elsewhere, and that dumb grin spread across his face. He held up his hand. "Y/N! Just in time! Come join us!"
Katsuki froze, eyes narrowing. "Stop fucking with me, Sparky. We both know you-re just-"
He felt your hands on his shoulders first, then the smell of your perfume. It was fruity and sweet, like some kind of strawberry shortcake. "Hey! Are you guy's studying? I'd love to join, if that's okay!"
He couldn't do anything. His mouth had dried up, body frozen as it tried to catch up with his brain. His breath caught in his throat. When your hands lifted from his shoulders, he almost sighed out of disappointment. Him. Out of all people. And it hit him like a truck that maybe, just maybe, those two damn idiots might've been right. For the first and last time in their lives.
You didn't wait for a response, instead hopping over the couch cushions and sitting beside Katsuki. He couldn't even look at you straight, only sparing you a side-glance and offering a mumbled "what's up."
What's up? He doesn't ever say stuff like that, and his ears began to burn. His two so-called friends exchanged a look. You didn't seem to notice, instead leaning closer to Katsuki to get a better look at his book. "Hey! What are you studying? Literature? That's one of my favorite classes."
You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and his breath caught in his throat as he finally looked at your face as you stared down at the book in his hands.
You were beautiful. He always knew, deep down, you were pretty. But it hit him so much harder when you were right beside him, eyes glittering as they studied something, pink lips curling into a soft and natural smile. You were so different compared to him; soft, polite, understanding. He was an ass.
Your eyes moved upwards, and he quickly averted his gaze, hoping you didn't catch him staring. Racoon Eyes cleared her throat. "You know, I think I forgot that book in my room. Right, Kaminari? Didn't you forget yours, too?"
"Huh? No, I have it right-"
"KAMINARI. Didn't. You. Forget. It?"
Those two brain cells of his finally rubbed together. "Oh! Oh yes, I did. Darn! Let's go together to grab our books, Mina! We'll be right back!" Dunce Face was robotic, standing up and marching out of the living room towards the dorms. Racoon Eyes was right on his heels, sparing a thumbs-up at Katsuki before disappearing behind the doorframe.
"Damn idiots."
"Yeah, sometimes. But that's what makes them fun, right?"
Katsuki snapped his head to you, eyes wide. That may have been the meanest thing he had ever heard you say, and that was saying a lot. "Uh... Yeah, I guess. Sometimes."
"So, while we're waiting for them, what do you want to talk about?"
You had the ball in his court, and Katsuki wasn't sure how to play. He felt clammy and weird, his chest doing that weird thing again. Except this time, it was worse. It felt like his heart was working overtime."You had the ball in his court, and Katsuki wasn't sure how to play. He felt clammy and weird, his chest doing that weird thing again. Except this time, it was worse. It felt like his heart was working overtime.
"Oh, maybe that wasn't the best way to start. Sorry, I'm just nervous." You smiled sheepishly, scratching at your cheek and moving your eyes elsewhere.
"Nervous? Why?"
"Well... We don't really talk too much with one another, right? I was just trying to learn more about you, I guess."
You wanted to know more. About him.
"I like spicy food." Katsuki blurted out. He didn't really think about the words, just letting them escape mindlessly. "I like food so spicy that it hurts. I used to make this hot curry for my mom and dad, and one time my dad couldn't get past the first bite because he complained it was going to burn off his taste buds. But I called bullshit."
The silence only stretched for a few seconds, but to Katsuki, it felt like an eon. Then, you laughed. It was the first time you had ever laughed at something he said. Not Dunce Face, not Hair-For-Brains. Him. Katsuki Bakugo. It was like bells, light and airy. Soon, he was chuckling beside you. Your laugh was contagious.
"I also like spicy food, but maybe not that spicy. I also really like sweet stuff."
"Like strawberries?"
You tilted your head at him. That curious tilt. "Yeah! How did you know? That's my favorite."
"You smell like strawberries."
Oh shit. Oh, fuck. That sounded so weird, and by the time the words registered in Katsuki's brain, they had already left his lips. And now you heard them too, and you also probably thought he was weird, and shit fuck god damnit-
"Oh! You have a really great sense of smell! It's a new shampoo. I think you're the first to point it out!"
"Yeah, it's pretty fucking strong. It smells good, though! I wasn't saying you smelt bad or anything like that, just that it was the first thing I noticed when you came up. Shit, not that I'm saying I sniff you or something fucking weird like that, just-" Katsuki was stuck rambling, and he wished for lightning to strike him down.
You placed a hand on his arm, and Katsuki zipped right up. "Hey, that's amazing that you noticed that! Honestly, you have a scent too. But yours isn't strawberries. Sorry to burst your bubble." Now you were joking with him. You started giggling at your own joke, and Katsuki wanted to bury his face in his hands to hide the redness spreading across his cheeks. How were you so goddamn cute?
"Damn. Don't know how I'll survive." He sounded too dry, but you didn't seem to mind as you graced him with your laughter. And then, something popped up in his brain. If he did have a "crush", then maybe he should just...
"Hey, have you heard of that new cafe that just opened last week? It's supposed to have a whole strawberry menu. Or some shit like that. Seasonal thing or whatever."
You perked up, eyes having that familiar sparkle. "Really? That sounds amazing! Maybe I can ask Mina and Jiro to come with me, or even Uraraka. She'd probably love it, too!"
Katsuki deflated, but only a bit. "Yeah, those are good ideas. But I bet someone else might wanna go with you."
"Oh, yeah? I guess it wouldn't be nice to leave Kirishima out, since he likes strawberries, too. Or maybe you mean Sero? He always talks about trying new foods. Oh! How about..." You were rambling now, listing off classmates to join you. But the only one you never mentioned was Katsuki. And it was starting to frustrate him. He kept his cool, up until you just had to mention-
"Midoriya could come, too! He's always so-"
"Hell, will you please shut up? I was trying to ask you out on a date!"
It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock as you just... stared at him. And Katsuki Bakugo quickly realized he fucked up. "God damnit, I didn't mean to yell at you. Fuck, I was just trying to-"
"Yes. Yes, I'll go with you."
He snapped his neck so quickly towards you, he was surprised it didn't break. "What? Really?"
"Katsuki. Of course, I'll go with you. I think it would be really fun. And I was being honest when I said I wanted to get to know you better."
"Oh... Okay. Great. That's great."
You glanced around the room. "How about now?"
"Now? Hell yeah. Let's go. Fuck the study group."
Katsuki bolted out of his seat a bit too excitedly, and you stifled back a grin. No need in embarrassing him. You pushed yourself up, grabbing his arm once more. "C'mon. Dessert's on me today. But I'll expect you to pay for both of us next time."
Next time. You were already planning for a next time before the "this time" had begun. Katsuki couldn't stop his grin, standing up a bit straighter. "I think I can deal with that. Let's go. We don't have all day."
It wasn't until weeks later that Katsuki actually asked you out. Officially. But it only took him a day to find out that Kaminari and Mina had made a bet about the first date, with Mina declared the winner. Let's just say her winnings benefitted Katsuki more than her.
Especially since he ended up taking the cash for himself and your guy's second date. Thanks, Mina.
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littlebnha · 2 months
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🐦‍⬛ It was an unintentional discovery. You'd been searching for a snack when you first heard the noise and at first, you thought it had been someone tapping on a table until you remembered that it was the weekend and most of class 1-A were out doing their own thing leaving just a rare few so you ignored it thinking you had simply knocked something down in a cupboard until it happened again this time longer a bit louder and accompanied by chirping? 
you walked out of the kitchen socked feet moving you into the shared area that was not the sound of something glass tipping or a bag of chips shifting. It was unprompted organic made by something living and the strange thing was that you were positive that you had heard it before and as you rounded the couches looking around you heard it again...coming from Tokoyami. 
He was sleeping soundly a pillow tucked under his chin as he lay sprawled on the couch you were sure that the sun had lulled him into an afternoon nap one so good he was chirping in his sleep and the sight was enough to make you want to squeal at how adorable it was though you didn't dare make a sound. However, there was no way you were going to let an opportunity like this pass you by. 
That is why when your stomach dared to betray you by letting out the most embarrassing growl ever heard Tokoyami awoke to see you his classmate (and crush) crouched in front of him with a phone the soft sound of a camera shutters the only other sound in the room. 
"It's not what it looks like."
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missmeinyourbones · 2 years
Text
THE MONSTERS TURNED OUT TO BE JUST TREES
or four times Touya Todoroki almost told you he loves you, and one time he finally did
cw: GN!reader (one mention of them wearing a dress & heels), mentions of blood and injury, one brief mention of sex, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, canon universe | wc: 6.8k
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“When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it.”
“Start Here” - Caitlyn Siehl
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#001
Touya wants to tell you he loves you the very first time he meets you, which granted, he realizes is incredibly fucked up—but he swears on what little he has that it’s the truth.
Withering away in a damp and cornered alleyway, he clutches his abdomen in hopes of stopping whatever bleeding is going on down there. He can’t bring himself to look, but he’s certain it’s there from the warmth of the spot and the sticky film now covering his hand. 
Yes, he’s been in this situation before—you’d think he’d have learned by now, based on the embarrassing amount of times he’s walked this same path. But he hasn’t, which is clear as he sits and quietly moans in his own agony. His burns continue to sting as a new layer of charred skin forms by the second, sensitive and exposed. The cut in his side throbbing so harshly that he almost feels a bit nauseous just thinking about it. 
As he’s mentally finding the strength to stand, he hears faint footsteps. If they’re truly faint, he doesn't know—it could just be the effect of his vision coming in and out paired with the piercing ringing in his ears. 
“Are you alright?”
He can barely open his eyes, but he does—and he sees you. 
Who you are, he has no clue, but the smallest part of him is put at ease as you hover over his slumped and defeated frame. He’s oddly relieved at your presence, almost as if he knows you, or a part of him once knew you. It jars him how calm he is with the situation at hand. 
It’s just the pain talking, he’s quick to remind himself. The adrenaline using any part of his brain it can reach to push his body to heal itself, or at least remain alive long enough until he can bare to stand and defend himself. 
“Leave,” he barks, suddenly reminded of the reality of the situation, of who he is and the risk your company poses to him, “you didn’t see anything.”
“You’re—” your voice shakes before lowering its volume to a whisper, vaguely gesturing to where he clutches his torso. “You’re bleeding,” you utter it like a secret, like it’s something that shouldn't be addressed. 
Touya, or rather Dabi, closes his eyes and huffs with annoyance at your self-explanatory observation. You know, you're really not making this whole dying unnoticed thing easy for him. 
“I can help,” your voice finds his ears once more and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t embarrassed. Help, he wants to spit and stew at your pity insinuation, he doesn’t need your help. 
He stares at you for a long moment, eyes unimpressed and unwavering, before finally commenting with a gruff, “I don’t do hospitals.”
“Not a hospital,” you’re quick to stomp out his fire, “my place.” 
Your place? Christ, it’s like you're asking for trouble. Clearly, you don’t know who he is, unaware of his high-profile villain status and obvious label of being a danger to society. Even with all that aside, what kind of idiot invites someone who looks like him, bruised and scarred and bleeding out before your very eyes, into the safety of their home? To help? You must have a few screws loose of your own, and maybe you feel bad about—
“Please,” you anxiously press, not-so-subtly eyeing his worsening wound, “I wanna help.”
Dabi doesn't remember standing up, using your unfamiliar touch as support as he stumbled to your apartment. He doesn't remember trudging up the staircase to the 3rd floor, or the way you shakily fumbled with your key in the lock as you opened your door and rushed him into the bathroom. 
All he knows is that suddenly, he’s clumsily slumped against the refreshingly cool tile of your bathroom wall as you tend to his deep and now oozing cut. 
He notices the sharp skids of maroon his boots have smudged onto your floor. He bitterly laughs to himself, thinking about how his blood will now permanently stain the floorboards of a stranger’s home. A piece of him the world could never rid itself of, even if it tried. 
He flinches and groans every few moments, whenever you press harder onto his open wound or apply another round of antiseptic. 
With his vision coming in and out of haziness, his eyes land on you—more specifically, your face. 
Pretty, dainty, and soft (he imagines). He watches your eyes silently gloss over his contrasting scars—where the chunked and charred purple remnants of death meet the crevices of living and breathing skin, barely held together with the shitty stitching of rusted staples.
“Not gonna ask how I got ‘em?” he suddenly bores. It’s the first coherent sentence he’s been able to string together since you’ve brought him inside. That’s a good sign, you mentally note. He can speak. 
“No,” you truthfully respond, continuing without falter to aid to his injury, “s’not my place,” you admit.
The intimidating glare Dabi gives you is one of disbelief and suspicion, so you shrug and continue your work, feeling his stare burn holes through your skin.
“I just want to make sure you take care of them properly,” you elaborate.
He scoffs harshly before a sting in his abdomen interrupts his breath, “Why?” 
Your eyes soften a bit before looking into his, your movements halting as you curiously whisper. 
“Do I need a reason?”
I love you.
He has no idea why the thought comes to him so naturally, when love is something he’s never known, barely felt. He shocks himself when it pops into his mind, delicately ghosting on his lips, before roughly pulling himself back to reality.
He weakly searches for something, anything, that’s not you to distract himself from the jarring thought that just crossed his mind uninvited. 
He hones in on where your hands are at work. He takes a mental photograph of the bandage you press to his wound—soaked in red as it absorbs all of his cursed and wretched blood. Something about the new and clean bandage you replace it with sticks with him. It’s strikingly white and brightly untouched as you place it where the filthy one once was. 
He doesn't know why it draws him in the way it does, but he doesn't take his eyes off of it as it slowly soaks up the rest of his bloody mess. 
#002
The second time the three words threaten to fall from Touya’s lips is a more acceptable—but just as terrifying—moment than the first. It still fills the crevices of his crumpled heart with a concrete-like heaviness. 
Months have passed since the first time in the alleyway, the moment shaking him up so badly that he couldn't bring himself to even walk your street for weeks, choosing to instead watch over your apartment from a neighboring building’s roof. 
Things are different now. He likes to think that he’s grown a bit in those few short weeks—not enough to let you have him wholeheartedly in the slightest, but at least enough to let himself into your home once more. 
You let him stay with you sometimes, let him shower with your lavender scented products and relish in the warmth of your mediocre cooking. He leaves your apartment with a belly full of satisfaction and a strange feeling in his chest that keeps him returning to your door. 
Something brews between the two of you. It resembles that muggy air right before a storm, one that’s so heavy it’s almost suffocating, until it finally breaks with the rainfall. It swims in that dangerously grey area, the one that leaves you teetering on the edge of do we address this? And do we let it drown in it’s own silence? 
Something in your gut tells you that if you speak it into existence, then that makes it real—and reality is something that Touya has never dealt with well. Too permanent, too unforgiving. 
Lingering glances turn to fleeting touches, touches to kisses—kisses that make him feel worthy of something, even if it only lasts for just for a few measly minutes. 
This new (dare you say) routine the two of you develop often ends the same, like this, with him laying on your bed next you. Above the sheets, never underneath them. Never falling asleep, never staying the night, always gone in the morning—but there, nonetheless. Hot and cold, you bitterlyr emind yourself, mourning a moment you never even had the privilege of knowing. 
The two of you sit in the silence of your bedroom, the only sound being the chain from your ceiling fan swaying as it spins in circles. The whites of your bed sheets being the brightest thing in the space, other than Touya’s eyes secretly admiring your peaceful state. 
Your head pressed against your pillow looks like a painting, he thinks to himself. Like it should be hung up high for the world to see, for tourists to pay ridiculous amounts of money for, just to silently stare at for three seconds before moving on to the next exhibit. 
Your pinky rubbing up and down his forearm slows, and he assumes that you’re walking the line of consciousness and slumber. Once it stills for a few minutes and he’s positive you’re out for the night, he’ll be sure to quietly detangle himself from your limbs and slip out your fire escape. 
With this plan in mind and your pinky now motionless, the sudden rasp of your voice takes him by surprise. 
“Why do you always leave?” 
Your inquiry is small, so small that it makes his chest tight with a guilt he didn’t even know he had. He should've assumed it was there, he has plenty to spare. 
“I don’t always leave,” he retaliates, voice barren of any emotion, “slept here plenty of times.”
On the couch, you bite your tongue, And before that, it was the floor. And you’re always gone when I wake up. 
“You know what I mean,” you shyly ache. 
And truthfully, he does. Touya knows exactly what you mean. 
He knows that he has no problem crawling through your door, fucking you until you're both sore and sleepy goners. He knows that he has no issue coming into your kitchen, eating the meals you make just for him and showering with your shampoo that you now buy extra bottles of. He knows that for some strange reason, he draws the line at spending the night in your bed. Something about the sun going down, sharing the clean linens of one’s own personal sanctuary, it’s all too much—too intimate for someone as scummy as him. He deserves a cold and unsettled slumber, away from your contiguous fire. 
“Dabi,” you try once more, eyes pleading for any sort of response, any sort of explanation.
An explanation that both of you know he can’t give you—not right now, at least.
“Dunno,” he shrugs, picking a stray eyelash off of your cheek. He selfishly lets it sit on the pad of his thumb for a bit, holding onto any piece of you he can, for just a little bit longer. 
“Can’t have people thinkin’ m’going all soft now, can we?” he breathes out onto the eyelash, letting it flutter from his hold with the sudden gust of wind. 
You close your eyes gently at the air between the two of you, before challenging his claim, “Not even me?”
“Especially you,” he’s quick to draw a line in the sand. 
“Why?”
“Because—”
I love you.
The thought cuts him off mid-sentence, leaving him practically choking and stumbling on his own words as he trails off. He looks at you, doe-eyes admiring him as if he’s a saint, as if he hasn’t maimed and killed and destroyed things just because he could. Just because. 
His reply is softer, more defeated as he mumbles, “Just because.”
You sit up in bed, still adorned in the egg-shell white comforter of your sheets. You extend your arm’s reach, covering his shoulder with the blanket as you crawl into his lap and pull him into your magnetic little bubble beneath the covers. 
“Stay, just for tonight,” you beg, eyelashes fluttering softly against his cheeks. They tickle like a kiss, feeling far too gentle for someone as rough as him. He silently prays that another one will fall off and become forever attached to him, for when you're not around and he needs to feel you. 
“Please.”
He looks at you, cocooned in fluffy white sheets as you kiss him—once, twice, three times. Your lips taste like honeyed chapstick and the warmth of a love he’s never known, one he should never know. 
“Alright,” he selfishly agrees. 
One night can’t hurt, right?
He promises himself, “Just for tonight.” 
Touya does stay the night, and the one after that, and the following. In fact, he hasn’t slept anywhere that isn’t your bed since that very moment. 
#003
The third time Touya almost tells you that he loves you catches him by surprise—not that the other two times haven’t—because it’s so natural. So domestic, it makes him nauseous at who he’s become, or rather, who he’s becoming. 
“Touya?” your voice calls out to him, echoing off the walls of the hallway in your tiny apartment.
That’s right, he remembers, it’s Touya now. The name he once scorched from his skin, sounding so sweet leaving your mouth.
He notices the click-clacking of your heels on the creaky wooden floors getting closer. Confirming his suspicion, you turn the corner to where he lazily slumps on the futon, watching some rerun of a show that just barely keeps his attention.
“Hey, can you zip me up?” 
He makes out your request over the dialogue of the characters on the screen. Without looking up from the television, he scoffs out a laugh and immediately runs through his mental lists of quick remarks. Which should he go with today? ‘
Can’t do anything without my help, can you?’ Or maybe even, ‘Oh, so now you need me, huh?’ What about, ‘What am I, your personal servant?’
However, all of his thoughts seem to disappear into smoke once his eyes land on you.  
You’re wearing white.
A white dress, more specifically. One that hugs all of your curves and crevices perfectly, almost as if it was made to be worn by you. 
His eyes rake over the tiny details of the garment—it’s silk, he mentally notes. He has the sudden urge to reach out and touch it, feel it beneath his fingertips, He wonders if it feels as soft as your skin does, but he doubts it. He admires the delicate straps, how they sit nicely on your shoulders, exposing just enough skin for him to see the way your chest rises and falls with the pattern of your breathing. He looks at your legs, the dress reaching about mid-calf on you, perfectly acceptable for the networking event you’ll be attending. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding in—thank god. If you showed any more leg than that, he’d be restless the whole night. 
He eyes the dainty necklace adorning your collarbone, how it cradles in the dip of your chest. He smiles once he realizes that it’s the one that he gave you. Fake gold and stolen from a pawn shop downtown, the thin chain wraps around your neck like a reminder. A secret promise to let him know that you’re his, whether he’ll let you be or not. 
After a whole minute of silently ogling you, Touya finally registers your ask and pries his eyes away from where you stand. 
Granted, the dress is nice. Touya just doesn't care for the piece of material itself—what he cares for is you, where you're wearing it to, and why it’s making his stomach feel like it’s eating itself alive. 
He doesn’t know why the thought keeps repeating like a mantra in his mind. You’re wearing white, white, white. The way his brain is hyper-fixating on the color is beyond him, but he lets it continue to ruminate within his brain.
He stalks over to where you expose your back to him, patiently waiting to feel the cold zipper glide up with ease. 
However, he doesn’t zip it up right away. He lets his fingers play with it for a moment, flicking it back and forth between his index and thumb. He huffs before pulling it up agonizingly slow, in case you change your mind halfway up, in case you say screw it and decide to ditch the work event. For him. 
You feel his breath hit your neck when he practically whines, “You really have to go?”
He hears you giggle as he finally finishes zipping the dress to completion. You turn to face him, eyes bright and smile blinding as you raise your eyebrows at his rather needy remark. 
“If I wanna keep my job and if you wanna keep coming here and stealing my food,” you jab the center of his chest with a slender finger, it feels like sparks on his icy skin, “then yes, I really have to go.”  
He stays silent for the rest of your getting ready. He watches you readjust the straps of your heels, fiddle with the clasp of your necklace. Watches you skillfully apply lipstick, carefully removing the tiny amount that smeared onto your front teeth in the process. Watches you secure your earrings in place and take one final glance at yourself in the mirror, before grabbing your coat and making your way to the door.
You say something to him, probably along the lines of lock the door or don’t wait up for me, but your words are fuzzy and incoherent—as if he were underwater and the muffled sound can't fully reach his ears. 
You looked beautiful, almost angelic, like you weren’t of this world and didn’t deserve to be exposed to all of the dirt and grime it wields within it’s orbit. A dream, a saint, a—
It’s in this moment that he feels his heart meshing with his brain, and he yearns to tell you those three words.
I love you. 
You were wearing white.
Touya calms his shaky build with a ragged inhale. A bride, he suddenly decides.
Glowing as you beamed in your white dress, you didn't look like an angel or a goddess. You didn't look like someone going to a work event, someone who would stand alone without a date huddled close to your side. Not someone who deserves to come home to him, of all people—to a lowlife criminal who you will never be able to understand, let alone wed.
No, in your elegant white gown fitted solely to your frame—you looked like a bride.
Though he knows you’ll be returning back to him within a few hours, Touya feels uneasy. He thinks about a wedding. One where you stand at the end of a flower-adorned aisle beneath an ornate canopy. One where you shine ethereal and godly as you read your cheesy vows aloud and give yourself away without so much of a second thought. 
Touya doesn't think he’ll be the one meeting you at the end of the aisle, doesn’t think he’ll be the one you kiss as the crowd goes wild with an applause fit for a film screen. He won’t be the one whose last name you take on, as it’s more of a burden than it is an honor. He doesn't need to be. 
He just needs you to be happy, whether it’s with him, or not. 
#004
You wake in the middle of the night to a cold and empty bed, which is luckily a rare occurrence nowadays. 
On any other given night, your lover would be passed out in the space next to you. His position may vary—sometimes he rests on your chest with his hands around your torso, clinging to your body as if you’ll vanish in the shadows of the night if he doesn't have a finger on you at all times. Other nights, he can’t even bring himself to touch you, hugging the opposite end of the mattress, an ocean separating the space between the two of you. 
Regardless of the position, he was always there—always with you. 
Quietly pulling yourself out of bed, you tip toe down the corridor to find Touya right where you expect him to be. 
He sits on the edge of the couch, lacing up his beaten and tattered brown boots. You make a mental note to buy him new ones, reminding yourself that he’s a size 10 and prefers the color black to a more neutral brown or tan. 
You watch him pull the soggy laces taut, before knotting them and forming two larger loops. He does it a bit childishly—almost as if he’s reciting some nursery rhyme in his head with the instructions as lyrics. Bunny ears, bunny ears, playing by a tree...
Trying not to scare him, as if you ever could, you clear your throat to make him aware of your presence. He looks up with an expression that can best be described as shame—as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn't be doing, something you specifically told him not to do. 
It doesn't take long for your sleep-riddled mind to piece together that he must’ve gotten a call from the league. Waking him from his slumber and requiring his presence, his power, to aid them in something you don’t even try to imagine. 
You crawl over to where he sits, leaning down to squat on the floor and help him tie the other boot. He silently watches your fingers work the laces with ease. 
He admires your nail polish, it’s white. He remembers you applying it a few days ago while sitting at the kitchen table, fanning your hands around obnoxiously as they dried. He’d made some lame quip about you choosing such a boring color, but you’d just shrugged, insisting that it was pretty—that it’d reminded you of him.
Your raspy voice pulls him from the memory. 
“Weren’t even gonna say goodbye to me, huh?” you tease, tone supposed to come across as playful, but Touya knows you—reads you like his favorite book as he can hear the worry, the hurt, that hides beneath it. 
“Didn’t wanna wake you,” he answers honestly, holding your cheek in his hand as he guides you upwards to be eye level with him as you finish tying his lace.  
Now kneeling in front of him, you pull him into a kiss—one that feels like how tears taste. Salty and desperate, yet soft like an ocean’s tide. He dreams of a day where he can take you to the beach. Watch you bask in the sun’s rays and splash him with water that tastes like your lips do in this very moment, but happier. 
“I love you,” he feels you recite against his lips like a prayer as you slowly pull away, looking him directly in the eye. A tactic—so you can ensure that he knows you meant to say it, knows that you meant for him to hear it, to feel it. 
I love you. 
The response is instant in his mind, like the muscle memory of riding a bike or tying the grimy laces of his boots. 
However, Touya says nothing, frozen in place as he feels his eyes begging to water, to cry—to release something, anything. 
I love you, he inwardly repeats, as if maybe this time, you’d read his mind and hear it loud and clear. 
Seeing his internal struggle, you let your thumb brush his cheek. He almost instantly crumbles beneath your touch, like putty in your hands. 
“I don’t need you to say it back,” you gently smile for him, tenderly laughing as you continue to stroke his cheek, “you don’t even need to feel it back.”
That’s stupid, Touya bitterly thinks. 
How selfish and unfair and stupid of you to just give out your love for free, without a price. A co-pay, a service fee, a tax charge, anything. How dare you do this to yourself? What benefit do you gain from loving and losing all of the time? 
“Just let me, please,” your hushed whisper reassures him, as if you could hear his mental ramblings, “let me love you.”
I love you, he burns. He aches to scream it, to throw it at you the only way he knows how—with fire and hurt and violence and destruction. He wants to curse it, to leave you shaking in awe from its power and punch. It’s on the very tip of his tongue, he can feel the weight of it shaking and shuffling around on his tastebuds, begging to be released. 
But it doesn’t come. 
Instead, like a coward, he flutters his lashes and refuses to look you in the eye. “I don’t know how to,” he reveals, shame eating him alive from the inside out.
I love you, is what he means to say. He hopes you know that, somehow. After all, you do seem to know him better than he knows himself. 
With another kiss, one of warmth and chapped lips, you whisper into his mouth.
“Just feel it,” you breathe down into his throat, hoping he swallows it back like a shot of liquor, digesting it and remembering the feeling of its burn, “know that it’s there, know that you're capable of receiving it.”
He wants to scoff, but your tongue skimming his own prevents him from doing so. He’s grateful for it, he thinks—grateful for you. 
“Because you are,” you ensure as you pull away from him once more. Gently standing from where you kneel, you slightly pull away from him. You let him grab his jacket, help him zip it up all the way up to his collarbone. You hope he’s not cold out there tonight, you let yourself worry before irony can get its sadistic hands on you. 
“I love you,” you insist once more, and it makes his skin buzz with a newfound sense of purpose. With the silence returning to your apartment, you turn on your heel and revert back to your cold and empty bed. 
Touya leaves that night for the mission, but something feels wrong. Or maybe it feels right, and he’s just been taught that those two things are supposed to feel the same. It’s a grey area, one of unknown roads and phantom pains. He’s beginning to realize that rebirth feels far too similar to the gentle ache of mourning. 
Something in him fights a little harder that night, though. His moves are a bit more calculated, actually planned and thought out. He doesn't act on impulse, without any regard of his hands and skin and life, like he usually would. 
Because for the first time in Touya’s life, he’s aware that he has somewhere to be—he has a home to return to, with someone who loves him waiting for him on the other side of the door.
#000
With a heartbeat far too intense for a slumbering man, Touya jolts awake in the middle of the night. 
But the more he thinks about it, he doesn’t know if he actually ever fell asleep. 
He has no memory of dozing off in your embrace or closing his eyes after his long and grueling day with the league. But based on the way he’s short-winded and gasping for air in bed, he must have fallen asleep eventually—because as Touya puts two and two together, he’s pretty positive that he’s just woken up from a nightmare.
He can’t recall a single detail of the terror-induced dream, but he logically knows that there’s no other reason for him to be stunned awake and heaving in the middle of the night. 
It could've been about anything—god knows his subconscious has enough horror to choose from—but as Touya sits up in bed and attempts to catch his breath, he can’t remember what he was dreaming about. 
He’s grateful for that, as he’s beginning to learn that there’s no harm in leaving the unknown untouched. Leaving well enough alone. 
As the adrenaline slowly evaporates from his chest, he allows himself to lay back down with a deep sigh of irritation and annoyance. 
It’s not abnormal for him to wake in the middle of the night, he’s grown accustomed to it. He’s become decently skilled at lulling himself back to sleep with a few mental tactics he’s collected over the years. 
His favorite one being listing. He thinks of things that are stable, unchanging or always in the same relative realm of one another. Things that are endless in quantity, but simultaneously somehow permanent and constant. 
He names as many four-legged animals as he can—cow, dog, cat, alligator, gopher. He tries to list every food that starts with the letter “C” like cherries, curry, coconut, croissants, and cake. He tallies the objects in the room that are rounded. The clock on the wall, the glass of water on his bedside, the finicky and rusted doorknob to your room. He counts your breaths per minute, sometimes wagering bets with himself on how many times he can guess the exact amount correctly. 
Tonight, something inside of him is prompted to choose the latter.
With another deep sigh, Touya hoists himself upwards so that his head is resting on his hand, held up by the weight of his elbow leaning next to you on the mattress.
He watches you sleep, laying flat on your back with your head slightly turned to the side that faces him. He counts your nose-whistled breaths with the rising and falling of your chest. He starts fresh when the thin fast-paced arrow of the clock marks the beginning of another minute, keeping track of every inhale and exhale you take before the sixty-seconds come to a close.
Thirteen. He counts thirteen breaths enter and leave your lungs. He likes that number, something about it feels like it fits nicely, like it means something, whatever that may be.
He debates counting another minute of your breathing—just to pass the time, he swears—but he doesn't want to take something as precious as your proof of living for granted. Leave well enough alone, he reminds himself.
While his own breathing has slowed, he still feels restless. In fear of waking you with his nonsensical anxiety, he slowly slides out from your bed. He needs to move around, to feel his arms and legs recirculate blood that somehow still pumps inside of him. 
Closing your bedroom door with a quiet click, Touya paces the creaky floors of your apartment. 
He walks in circles around your coffee table, saunters back and forth in the kitchen. He strides up and down the narrowed hallway, refusing to look in any mirror or window reflection in fear of catching his own eye. He can only imagine how pathetic he must look right now, he can feel it ache in his calves and crawl up his spine with every step he takes.
The air in the apartment feels stuffy, suffocating almost. He does a quick scan of the area—the windows are open and there’s a slight breeze drafting through the room as the curtains slightly sway back and forth. 
He checks the thermostat on the wall. Pressing a flat fingertip to the dial, it glows back at him, reading a temperature perfectly average for a temperate night like tonight. So why does it feel like a fucking sauna in here? He doesn’t normally run this uncomfortably hot, as ironic as it may seem.
He needs air, more than just the draft from the windows. He needs the chill of an ice-cold bath to drown his lungs, he needs to let the water wash him from the inside out and rid him of any grime you’ve missed. 
He grabs his pack of cigarettes off the kitchen counter and makes a beeline for the screen door. 
Sliding the entry of the balcony open, he steps onto the tiny porch and leans on the cool metal railing. It’s not a drastic change in temperature—in fact, he’s not even sure if there is any change—but he feels better out here, like there’s more space to sigh and grovel. 
Over the hum of the city below, he notices his own breathing. A bit faster and shakier than usual. He scoffs at his own behavior—childlike and shaken-up after a tantrum.
Touya has no pity for himself, nor the way his body struggles and shakes when lighting his cigarette. He lets himself deeply inhale the stale smoke before letting it slip out through a pursed lip. 
He looks out over the railing. The city street below is surprisingly lively compared to its usual bare bones around this time of night. He people-watches for a few moments, a fragile attempt to distract himself from the uneasy pit threatening to permanently settle in his stomach. 
He observes a street vendor closing up for the night, scrubbing away at a hefty pot filled of some mixture of noodle and broth. He sees a stray mutt sniffing through piles of plastic bags filled with trash, before a policeman shoos it away from the neglected garbage. He watches a walking man pass beneath the street-lamps, faintly illuminated by their glow every few feet as he scurries to get home with convenience store bags in his hand.
His eyes fall to a young couple, teenagers maybe, strolling through the dimly lit streets. They practically skip down the alleyways, hands intertwined and animatedly swinging back and forth. He hears one of them loudly giggle as the other one attempts to balance on the raised borders of the sidewalk, placing one foot in front of the other like an acrobat on a tightrope.
It makes his heart sink for reasons unknown. The bitter anger he feels is a humbling reminder for him to get back inside and go back to sleep.
With a bit of a groan and a harsh rub to the bridge of his nose, Touya stifles his cigarette out on the brick wall of your apartment complex, before tossing it in the ashtray you leave out for him on the end table. 
On his way inside, he eyes the wilted potted plant next to it, dried and crumbling from the lack of rain these days. 
Once he’s through the door, Touya finds himself moving towards the bathroom. He leans over the sink as he avoids his own gaze in the mirror. While the ceramic is calm and cooling on his palms, it’s still not enough. 
He flicks the knob which turns the faucet on and allows the cold water to run for a few moments. Once he’s positive that it’s as cold as your apartment complex’s water tank can allow, he sticks his hands underneath the consistent stream of the nozzle.
He lets the water hit the center of his palms, cupping in his hands and overflowing over the sides of his thumbs. He watches it drip through the cracks where his fingers meet one another, feels it glide over his knuckles and down his wrists. He tilts his hands upward and lets it run beneath his fingernails—an attempt to hit every single one of his crevices with the purifying liquid.
His final act includes him cupping the water one last time and splashing it on his face. It slightly brings his temperature down, but more so pulls him back to reality as he blindly reaches around the bathroom for something to dry himself with. 
He decides to roughly collect the droplets on his face with the hand towel hanging beside him. While looking down at the floor, he spots the smear of blood he left on your tile the first time he met you. The one that he knew would leave a stain. He didn't expect to ever see it again, let alone every day. 
As he places the towel back on the rack, something briefly catches his attention from the corner of his eye—something he hasn’t noticed before in the small confines of your familiar bathroom. 
A tiny vase, no bigger than the circumference of his own two hands, sits on the shelf of your toilet tank. It doesn’t take up much space, maybe half of the ledge, as it decorates the otherwise relatively plain room. It’s not the vase that lures him in, it’s the flowers.
They’re white.
White, just like the bandages you pressed into his tattered and lifeless skin what feels like years ago. Like the bedsheets you wrapped the two of you in, holding him in your palms and begging him to stay the night. White, the same as the dress you wore, the one that had him thinking about a future—one with you and a forever kept promise. Like the boringly pretty nail polish you chose to decorate your fingernails with for the sole reason that it reminded you of him. 
White. 
He doesn’t recognize the type of flower, not that he knows many, but he’s familiar with the basics: roses, tulips, sunflowers. These ones are different. They spread themselves out at the stem, almost drooping into a delicate star-shape. They have tiny little seeds—he guesses—in the center, yellow and narrow. He leans in to sniff them, they smell of nothing but grass and wind. A clean scent. 
They’re new, he decides. He would've noticed those before. Knowing you and your routine, you most likely picked them up on your way back from work a few days ago. He vaguely remembers you mentioning a flower-shop close to your office that you’d been curious to check out. He figures you finally bit the bullet before the work week was over. 
Something about those fucking flowers ignites something inside of him. So simple and plain, yet captivatingly eye-catching at the same time. Silent and peaceful, they stay there. They don’t harm anyone. Their only purpose being to lighten up the dim and stale bathroom. 
They’re proof that things can be good, that things can sit there and exist for the sole reason of making someone happy. They don’t need to be any more complicated than that—Touya thinks they’re kinda like you in that way. 
With a new-found sense of ease and a strange sense of urgency pulling him back to the bedroom, Touya’s feet move before he can process his own realizations. They carry him back to bed, let him crawl underneath the covers and press his body softly against yours. 
He returns to the same position he was in before, resting on his side as his elbow prompts him upwards, giving him a clear angle of you sleeping soundly beneath him. 
Touya doesn’t know why he feels the need to say it right now. Maybe, it’s because you’re sleeping, in your own world and unable to hear him. He knows it’s cowardly—but for more reasons than one, he’s never claimed to be a hero. 
He braces himself—for what, he doesn’t know. Maybe the ground will split open from beneath him and swallow you whole. Maybe the sky will turn red and the sun will explode into a thousand fiery little flames. Maybe he’ll stop breathing.  Maybe you’ll breathe another thirteen times.
He focuses on you and nothing else, afraid to exhale too loudly or move an inch in fear of waking you and ruining the moment for himself. 
Frozen in time, he whispers the cursed phrase, lips barely moving.
“I love you.”
It’s foreign in his mouth, but it doesn’t feel acidic like he’d imagined it would. It feels light, feathery, as if it’s not even there in the first place. It melts like cotton candy on his tongue, dissolving into nothing but a sweet and sugary aftertaste. 
Touya blinks, releasing a sigh as he allows himself to relax a bit. The moment is peaceful. That wasn’t so bad.
“I love you too, Touya” he hears you faintly whisper from the space in between his arm and torso. His body freezes with what he hopes isn't regret. 
You don’t gasp and tremor like he expects, hell, you barely move a muscle as you mutter the words back to him with ease. You must be sleep-talking, he reasons with himself. There’s no other way that you’d be as nonchalant as you are about the situation at hand.
But as you move in closer to him, your hand rubbing soft circles on his chest, he knows you’re awake. 
He lets himself drift off to sleep once more, no need for counting mammals or listing specifically shaped objects. The sole thought dancing in Touya’s mind remains the same throughout the night and into his dreams. 
He needs to ask you for the name of those flowers. 
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a/n: AAAAAAAHHHH here is my touya fic. i am very proud of it >,< i’ve been working on it for quite some time now and it feels good to finally be able to release it! i hope u all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. i had a lot of fun coming up with the little details and easter eggs in it. as always, i love receiving ur guys feedback so please feel free to let me know what u like about it (if anything at all LOL)
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Relationship Headcanons: Kacchako (SFW)
Confessions/dating
Ochako confesses first, by accident, right before graduation. Bakugo doesn't say anything until she tries to backpedal.
Before confessing, Bakugo would prepare a lot of Ochako's favorite foods "by coincidence" when it was his turn to cook for the group. She never caught on that it was intentional, much to his dismay.
Izuku knew about their mutual feelings before anyone else, because they both admitted it to him during different vent sessions.
Their first kiss happens just after patrol together. Bakugo had been acting strange during patrol, so Uraraka approaches him as he's removing his gauntlets to check in with him. Once she's close enough, he pulls her close and kisses her, explaining after the fact that he wanted to do that earlier in the day, but knew his gauntlets would get in the way.
Bakugo rarely (if ever) initiates any kind of physical affection in public, but secretly loves when Ochako holds his hand or hugs him where paparazzi can see.
Once he warms up to physical affection in general, Bakugo loves casual touches. Specifically, he loves rustling Ochako's hair as he passes, or resting his hand at the small of her back when they stand together.
Both Bakugo's and Ochako's hero agencies try to keep their relationship secret, at first. Bakugo blows up (literally) on a sidekick for flirting with "his girl," so they're forced to publicize the relationship for the sake of public safety.
Their relationship is actually extremely well-received by the public and "Dynaravity" merch sales padded their hero salaries quite nicely.
Mitsuki Bakugo absolutely adores Ochako and constantly tells her that she's too good for her son. At one point, she suggested that Ochako would be better off with Izuku...which went about as well as expected.
Ochako's parents were a little slow to come around to them being romantically involved, but Ochako's mother melted when she walked in to the family room to find Ochako asleep in Bakugo's arms on the sofa. Ochako's mother tells everyone she can about the pure adoration in Katsuki's eyes, much to his horror.
Marriage
Bakugo proposes to Uraraka two years into their relationship, at the Sports Festival at UA after jokingly asking her if she wanted a rematch. Unfortunately for the students, the celebratory uproar this caused postponed the competition for three hours. (Aizawa lectured them about wasting his time, but embraced them immediately afterward)
Bakugo and Ochako both wanted Izuku to be their best man/man of honor. Izuku became an officiate so he could stand in the middle. Ochako's maid of honor ends up being Tsuyu, with Bakugo's best man being Kirishima.
Children
They end up having two children, two years apart.
Daisuke (大輔) Bakugo- Male. Sandy blonde hair (like Ochako's dad) that grows in all directions with round, mahogany colored eyes . Insanely bright, and very helpful. A bit of a people pleaser. Quirk: Trigger-Switch: Producing nitroglycerin sweat from his hands, Daisuke leaves explosive handprints on anything he touches. When he claps his hands together, the resulting spark ignites the marks at once within a 30 ft radius (this extends to a greater radius as he matures). The more he touches an object, the greater the explosion. Prolonged use results in blisters/burns on his hands, causing him pain.
Hanabi (華火) Bakugo- Female. Chocolate brown hair, worn in twintails as a child, which evolves into tight French braids as a teen. Angular burgundy eyes. Ambitious, a little rambunctious. Has her dad's temper but is better at controlling it. Quirk: Sparks Fly: Hanabi can create floating balls of nitroglycerin sweat which she can propel toward enemies. Her preferred method of attack is combining the sweat into a large glowing orb, bright enough to stun enemies (similar to Bakugo's Stun Grenade), before peppering her enemies in tiny explosions. As her Quirk requires a lot of sweat production, Hanabi is at high risk of dehydration on the field. Overuse of her Quirk leads to dizziness, and in extremes, may cause her to lose consciousness.
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mayullla · 1 year
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Title: Your new home at Hawks's apartment
Characters: Hawks / Keigo Takami (Mainly), Miruko (My Hero Academia/BNHA)
Summary: After Hawks adopted you, you were shown to your new home a luxurious apartment that belongs to the pro hero Hawks.
Warnings/tags: Slowburn platonic yandere, fem!child!reader, smidge agnst, reader has a "healing" quirk, the obsessions themes are not obvious here but will happen at one point so just in case I am putting this here Note: Kind of a part 2, if you want to see part 1 head over to the list!
Little healer here! list
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Your tiny gasp as he leaped from the window of his apartment. Delighted you were laughing as you held on to his neck tightly as he told you but not enough to choke him.
"MISTER-SAN IS SO COOL!!!" You shouted at him as you looked down at the tiny buildings. You are so high up in the sky! Hawks was holding you in his arms as you two flew across buildings and houses.
You were so high up people looked like ants when they use to be so tall. Everything was so yellow.
"Hold on tight, kid and don't take of that mask it will be hard to see if you remove it."
The first place he went to was his agency. Everybody greeted him casually yet when they saw you almost everyone froze. They were so quick to assume that you were his daughter by blood.
"Was that why you left a few days?! To get her??"
"How come you haven't told us anything about you having a daughter!!"
"Why didn't you say anything!! She is sooo cute!!"
"What about the news articles?! What am I supposed to say here!!"
Hawks had to quickly silence them and explain to them that you were adopted and not his real "real" daughter. And when he wanted to introduce you to them it seemed that you have disappeared from his side to behind his leg. The suddenly loud voices surprised you a bit and when all of the people's eyes were on you you can't help but hide even more.
Why are you so cute??
"She wasn't this shy before... probably cause there are way too many people here. Come one kid introduce yourself."
Hawks had to slowly help you out into introducing yourself to his agency, shyly you told them your name almost hesitant when you said Keigo's family name. Dear really why are you so adorable?? The whole agency was practically cooing over you at how cute you were.
Almost instantly you were given soo many sweets and candies by everyone that you needed a plastic bag to carry them all. Keigo casually took the bag later unable to bare laughing as he watched you struggle to carry the plastic bag as big as you.
"Would you look who it is! Hawks!" You looked to your side to see a woman with bunny ears and the most mischievous smile. "Are you back from your holi-"
The woman looked at you surprised and you looked at her surprised, the both of you made eye contact. "So who is the unlucky woman you la-" "Shut up."
Hero name Mirko also known as Rumi Usagiyama, Hawks was quick to introduce the both of you also explaining that he had adopted you. "Ehhh what made you think you wanted to become a father so fast?" Mirko smirked at him crossing her arms. Keigo rolled his eyes.
"So little bunny, how is it living with pro hero Hawks?" Mirko asked squatting right beside you to get to your height. You looked at her rabbit ears curiously "It is fun! Mister-san is super nice and funny. He also made the best pancakes I ever tried!" You told her with enthusiasm.
"She is so cute, how the heck did you find her?" Mikro asked Keigo as she played with your cheeks. Squishing both of them, so puffy but still could use a little more fat in them. "Jealous?" Hawks huffed, a smirk on his face.
Mirko was about to say a witty comeback before she felt something odd in her arm. Fast she let go of your face jumping back, high alert as she looked at you cautiously. You covered your cheeks pouting adorably.
You did something, Mirko had dropped her guard just a little for a moment there while chatting with you. She felt as if something entered her veins.
"What did you do kid?" Mirko asked glancing at her hand. It was a strange feeling almost as if something was crawling in her veins. It wasn't uncomfortable, almost warm but... unfamiliar. "Mirko-san had a cut on her arm that looks painful." You grumbled.
Mirko quickly checked the cut it was true that she had a cut on her arm after some fight with villains this early morning. It wasn't really serious and she planned on getting it treated later but it was gone, all that was left was a thin line that told her it was not from her own imagination.
"Little Birdie here had a quirk that heals, she healed me when I got into a little trouble with some villains," Hawks explained, with a smirk this time on his face. "Her skills if trained properly can be on par with recovery girl's skills if not better."
The tension soon died down as Hawks explained how you and he meet and Mirko and Hawks started shooting jabs at each other. Mirko thanked you for healing her giving your head a little ruffle.
"She is so cute plus she can heal! Hey. Give little bunny to me I will be a better caretaker than you."
"In your dreams."
You and Keigo soon took your leave heading to the mall to buy a few things more for you and your room that he asked most to be delivered back. After heading to the market and buying some groceries you and Keigo started to head back to his apartment.
"Mister I wanna ask you something." You were sitting on his shoulders as you held on to his head. "Hmmm?" Keigo grunted allowing you to continue.
"You must be honest with me!" You looked down at him. Keigo wondered why you were asking this but nodded his head. "Did Mister adopt me because of my quirk?"
Unconsciously he paused mid-step unable to answer for a moment needing to think a little. But it seemed that his silence was enough for you to understand what was going on.
"It is fine Mister." You told him placing your small head on his head, "I understand." You told him.
You didn't give him a chance to answer.
It was something that maybe you may have come to expect seeing that your tone wasn't surprised at all. And somehow it surprised Keigo a bit at this reaction... would he call it mature he was sure but it left a guilty feeling, you were at such a young age but you didn't expect much from him...
It gave an ugly feeling inside.
And a certain fear that you have closed yourself from him now.
But what can he do now?
Your actions were the same as yesterday when you got to the apartment but even he knew how you weren't as talkative as yesterday. Silently going to bed after telling him how fun today was as it was your first time going to the arcade and that you will save enough tickets to get a friend for Mr. Hawks the hawk plushie. That you were thankful for the books and colored pencils that he got you. Especially that red bow pin that you told him looked like a red butterfly.
You didn't ask him to stay beside you while you go to sleep instead you were the one to close the door to your room when he thought that he must follow to keep you company.
It was hard for Keigo to sleep that night.
Too quiet.
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call-me-copycat · 11 months
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I'm so sorry @pink-lemonadae-san ! Tumblr has a nasty problem for me where random drafts of mine go missing for no reason. Luckily I take a screenshot of every ask before saving the draft (since this has happened in the past).
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➤ Welcome
Request rules, info about me, and links to all my masterlists
♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡
▶ Pairing: Tamaki Amajiki x GN Reader
▶ Genre: Fluff (tiny bit of a slowburn), Romance
▶ Word Count: 11,800 (Exactly!)
▶ Story Notes:
- "Shokupan" is just Japanese for Milk Bread
- I began writing this during Golden Week, but it's over now (Apr 29 - May 5)
- Golden Week is a series of festivals and holidays in Japan, but I didn't go into much detail with it in the story
▶ Warnings: None (Although I might want you warn you that this isn't exactly the best I've written since I'm not very good with romance >///<)
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The bell chimed by the door, the light ringing making its way throughout the little bakery. Golden ribbons of sunlight were just barely beginning to peak through the windows, coating the entire shop in its sleepy yet cozy filter.
It was early in the morning, much earlier than when most people got up for the day, but as a baker you saw it as your duty to fulfill the daily tasks for your job - no matter how tedious or dull. It was what got you your job, after all.
Just as any other day customers filed in and out in wide, nearly empty groups, the early morning crowd mainly consisting of office workers, students and teachers, tired night-shift workers ready to rest, and sometimes a hero or two if you got lucky enough.
The syrupy aroma of various pastries, breads, and sweets filled the shop in a warm and inviting atmosphere. The sweet fragrance was something you had enjoyed when you first started working there, but you realized to your disdain you had eventually grown numb to it's smell.
The bell chimed in rhythm with the creaking of the door, accompanied with the sound of the cash register letting out its little clicks and beeps as you paced yourself around the small group of customers. And so the steady rhythm of your everyday life was beginning once again, just as it had done so many times in the past.
Finally, after waving goodbye to a little boy and his older sister you looked up at the clock to realize the early morning rush had finished. It wasn't too bad that day, and since it was the smallest rush of the day it normally helped to wake you up and let you prepare for the bigger crowds that come later on.
Just as you were pulling out a new tray of sweet pastries from where they were sitting in the warm oven, a small commotion gained your attention. The bell on the door rang, and it was quickly followed by three students that came crashing in, clearly in a rush.
Upon closer inspection, you realized that they were most likely around your age. The tallest one had a bright and cheerful smile on his face despite the concern of what time they had on hand, with bright yellow hair to go with his blue eyes.
The girl next to him was also all smiles, with a warm and rather cute expression as she forgot about her surroundings and smushed her face up against the display case that showed what pastries and sweets you sold.
Finally, you didn't even notice the boy standing behind them at first, but after he stepped out to say something to the blond-haired boy you saw that he was much more timid, a shy and nervous expression on his face - some if it being hidden by the indigo colored locks that fell in front of it.
The blonde haired boy was the first that went up to you, the timid boy trying to pry the girl from the case as she went up and down the long glass rows.
"Hey! Is it alright if I get one honey croissant, and- just a sec" he smiled kindly and turned to the other two, a gentle urgency in his voice as he asked them what they wanted.
"Ooh! The mochi! No, wait, the coffee jelly! Wait, wait, wait! I changed my mind, I'm going with the mochi, it looks yummy!" The blue haired girl was ecstatic, jumping around with the energy you felt could compare to an excited 5-year old who wandered in with their mother.
Suddenly, all eyes were on the shy boy, and even as you packaged the orders that were already asked, you could see him visibly shrink under the attention. A small part of you felt a little bad for the boy, so you decided that you'd do something kind to make up for the nervousness he had, especially since you had some extra goodies left over from the night before that you didn't want to go to waste.
"So Tamaki, what's it gonna be?" The blonde asked the shy boy - Tamaki, you learned.
Upon this request, he visibly hunched inwards, stuffing his hands in his pockets and directing his attention to the ground, muttering a simple "I'm fine".
"Nonsense! C'mon buddy, pick something out and then we can head to school - it's on me!" The blonde enthusiastically patted the boy, Tamaki on the shoulder. He seriously didn't seem to want the attention, but nevertheless he still sheepishly pointed at the Milk Bread in the display, a plain yet sweet bread for the less adventurous. You realized he might've just picked something to get the boy's attention off of him for the time being.
Quickly handing the girl her mochi and and placing the honey croissant on the counter, you went to packaging the single piece of Shokupan in its box. Only, before you closed the lid, you got an idea.
The three rushed out of the bakery after paying, and in a way you felt a little accomplished, enjoying the tiny break in routine. It certainly wasn't everyday you met such characters like them, with such contrasting personalities. You could only hope they'd come back for another visit sometime.
As Mirio, Nejire, and Tamaki hurriedly made their way back to UA in order to beat the bell for first hour they snacked on their little pastries, all except Tamaki, who shoved the box into his bag for lunch without even opening it.
It was a typical day at UA, with studying, training, quizzes, and so on. A day that Tamaki felt he could easily handle since the familiar routine with comforting and predictable.
It went this way up until lunch, where he sat confused with a blank look on his face as he started into the box that held his Shokupan he had ordered earlier out of panic. Blinking his eyes, he registered that there wasn't just a single piece of the sweet bread in the box all by its self, but rather it had company.
A cute little cookie sat next to the bread, decorated to look like a little kitty. He normally would've found it charming, but at the moment he felt like a thief.
There was another pastry in the box! What if you put it there by accident?! What was he supposed to do, eat it? Give it back? It had been sitting in his backpack all day, so Tamaki doubted it would still be able to be sold if he gave it back. But he didn't pay for this, was he considered a criminal if the offense was on accident?!
Paranoid thoughts ran throughout his mind, and he struggled to come up with a solution. Mirio looked over, and upon seeing his friend starting intensely at the box with his bread in it, leaned over to check out what was going on.
"Oh, sweet! They gave you an extra!"
Tamaki's eyes flew open at his friends dismissal.
"No! No, they must've put it in here by accident! Mirio what do I do? I can keep this, it's not mine!"
Mirio chuckled reassuringly, patting his nervous friend on the shoulder.
"Well even if it was an accident, I don't think you can give it back-"
Tamaki's panicked expression worsened, but Mirio quickly finished his sentence to avoid being taken out of context.
"- Buut what else can you really do but enjoy it? Besides, there's always the chance they were just being nice!"
Tamaki grimaced as he looked at the little cookie in the box, Mirio's words not reassuring him the slightest. He mentally slapped himself, it was just a cookie! It was probably just 50 yen anyways, why did he always have to overthink everything? Why did he make things so hard for himself?
Before he could decide on what to do, Nejire caught up on the situation and smiled while cheerfully reaching over the lunch table - towards his cookie.
"Hey, it you don't want it I can always eat it for y-"
However, before she could get another word in, Tamaki snapped the little container shut, causing the two pairs of eyes to settle on him due to the unexpected and sudden reaction.
"It's... Fine. It'll be fine"
The two others looked at each other in confusion at Tamaki's sudden change in demeanor, but before either could get a word in, the bell rang and signaled for them to get to class.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Later at the end of the day, you were just coming home after your own day of work, tired yet fulfilled. It was a fun aspect of your life, getting to bake for people and all. Seeing people eat your own creations and enjoy them was what made it all worth it
As you got ready for the night, you couldn't help but wonder what happened to that shy boy and his friends that visited earlier that morning. They were so entertaining to see, and in a way you felt the most similar to the nervous boy - Tamaki.
It was silly to realize about, but everytime you thought about the boy, you felt a small tug on your heart. For now, you just decided to chalk it up as pity since the poor guy was a shaking mess when you saw him. Maybe he'd visit again with his friends...
The day after was the exact same, making pastries and sweets, serving people, cleaning some, and so on. Only, a small part of you was hoping to see the unlikely trio again, and everytime the door opened your eyes would involuntarily flicker over with a spark of hope.
The day dragged on, and the further it got the smaller your hope would shrink. At the end of the day with no sign of them, you could only sigh and scold yourself for thinking so foolishly, after all they were only customers that visited once.
Just as you were stacking the used trays so they could be put in the dishwasher, a small knocking on the front door caught your attention. Turning, you saw none other than the trio you were hoping to see - well two of the three, that is.
It was only the blond and Tamaki that were standing there, the girl being nowhere in sight. Admittedly, you chuckled to yourself before gesturing for them to turn the handle, only to have to yell in response to further confusion "It's open!"
The blond chuckled and rubbed the nape of his neck, while Tamaki groaned in either embarrassment or annoyance. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.
The door swung open, the bell chimed, and then they were in the shop. Seeing the place near empty (except the one regular who was eating by his lonesome near the back), both their expressions turned a little apologetic.
"Ah! Sorry if you're closing, we-"
The blond got caught off mid-sentence by Tamaki, and this was the first time you saw the boy speak on his own without being pressured.
"We.. We can go. You look busy- don't th-they look busy, Mirio? L-let's not bother them." He tried turning around to leave, tugging his unmoving friend's arm in the direction of the door. Finally he stilled and his shoulders slumped as he looked at his friend who refused to budge, a pathetic and pleading expression on his face. And that's when you felt it again, that thumping of your heart.
"Actually... It may seem empty, but I don't close for another hour." You gave off the warmest smile you could in hopes of reassuring the both that they weren't intruding. The blonde - Mirio, you learned- smiled in response while Tamaki's expression stayed one of pitiful nervousness.
"That's great! We just wanted to visit again to say how much we liked your sweets! They're great, really. Tamaki especially agrees, don't you buddy?" Tamaki groaned his friend's name as his face blossomed into a shade of red at his friends comment, and once again you tried to defuse his anxiety.
"Oh! That's so sweet of the both of you, I have some extras if you'd like one?"
Tamaki waved his hands in front of him, not wanting to deal with the guilt of more free food, while Mirio was about to ask something.
You cut the both off with a genuine smile, "No, really it's okay! It's technically regulation to get rid of the day's batch since we can't use or sell it the next day, so you'd be helping to not let some of that go to waste. Y'know, only if you want of course"
They both looked at you, watching them eagerly with your hands clasped together and a bright smile stretched across your lips. Tamaki felt his face grow hot and his heart speed up, and in a panic he gasped out and clutched his shirt, confused on this newfound feeling and not knowing what to make of it.
Mirio didn't hear any objections from his friend, so he looked over and assumed Tamaki was just panicking over the social settings again. Taking matters into his own hands once more, Mirio smiled and accepted for the both of them.
And so, that's how they walked out each with a small box of slightly stale (yet yummy) treats, courtesy of you being the kindest baker they've met so far.
They walked across the little town, the rays of the sun slowly lowering, it's golden streaks begrudgingly being torn from the surfaces it once covered. Since it was cool, people were out and about as they pleased, cleaning their shops, playing in the park, going shopping, walking pets, and so on.
The evening was nice and calm, allowing Tamaki's chaotic thoughts to settle down once again. Mirio was already eating his way through the box he was given, while Tamaki could only clutch his tightly in his grip.
He thought back to you in the bakery, with your kind smile and genuine atmosphere. Of course he noticed how everytime he became panicked your eyes would flicker over to him. Only, instead of the typical curiosity or pity, he saw something else in your expression. Relation. Familiarity. You understood how he felt, what his position was like.
The fluttering in his chest grew at the thought, and he could barely restrain this feeling of desire and longing that surrounded him everytime he thought of... You.
It was stressful and chaotic.. but it was pleasant. A feeling that wasn't like any other he's experienced before. After so many years of so much anxiety, finally getting someone who knew what it was like and finally feeling some emotion that was a joy to experience... It a freeing in a way.
The sun glittered where it sat, the golden beams of light stretching over Tamaki's face as he conclusively came to terms with what he was feeling by finally taking a bite of the cookie you gave him. And a newfound satisfaction filled his head, his emotions swirling around in a sweet mixture of chaos and joy.
After that interaction with them, you began to see the trio everyday, and they let you know that they had dubbed your bakery as their new hangout spot since they were there so often. It was never set in stone though, because sometimes you'd see all three, other times you'd just see two or one of them. Either way, it flattered you to have a new set of regulars visiting on the daily.
A new rhythm was put in place as they squeezed their way into your life, and as the weeks passed you slowly saw them less as customers, but more at friends.
You had already talked to most of them individually a few times, but you noticed that Tamaki rarely came by himself, mainly with one of the two. He talked everytime he was spoken to, but you could never get him to speak freely on his own.
Truth be told, each time Tamaki tried to approach you, his emotions would get in the way and he'd second-guess himself enough to bail out at the last moment. He couldn't even look your way without you immediately meeting his gaze and smiling, causing his brain to malfunction and his face to erupt in a shade of red. He hated how hard his heart beat in his chest whenever he entered the bakery, the mere thought of seeing you causing his mind to go into overdrive.
You on the other hand began to think his distancing was probably due to lingering anxiety, and so you wanted to do everything you could to get him to trust you more. Both his friends were naturally trusting and friendly people, so they were easy to befriend. Tamaki however, was much harder for you. He'd never reach past the initial point of politeness that you had already passed with the other two. It was shallow, and you wanted something deeper.
Each time Tamaki visited since then, he'd always be greeted first and he noticed you spoke to him much more than you did before. He couldn't shake you off, your kindness was sticky in a way, and it was hard to avoid. It only served to cause his emotions to rush about his head more aggressively, and as much as he was flattered to have your attention on him, there was only one problem. He wasn't good with attention, whether it good or bad.
Every night he laid on his bed, pondering how he would go about this. He couldn't just tell you about his feelings, what if you were just being kind because of your job? No, that wasn't an option for him, it was unprofessional.
He so desperately wanted to look you in the eyes and pour out everything that he was holding in his heart. To have your eyes set on him while he let his thoughts and feelings loose made him clutch his heart over his shirt, the mere idea thrilling but terrifying.
Every smile given his way caused his heart to thrum with elation, and every pastry you gave him made his head buzz with thoughts, always so loud and overthinking on the inside. It was a contrast only he knew of.
To be so excruciatingly chaotic and loud beneath the quiet and somber surface was nothing but a secret held past closed lips. He wanted to open up everything he held inside and let you in, you being the key to his lock. Truth be told, Tamaki was tired of holding it all in. Your welcoming nature and caring behaviors made him feel safe around you, as if he could just hug you and melt away as all his stress was lifted from him.
His thumping heart and doubtful thoughts made themselves known, and that's when he remembered what was keeping him from you. A chain of his own mind was the strongest leash that held him down. As much as he didn't want to be a prisoner of his own creation, he found that no matter how much he struggled he just couldn't loosen the reigns that his mind held over his heart.
And so, all he could do was to continue visiting the bakery, simply being glad to see your face wherever he could. Your sweet remarks were what made his day, being music to his ears. Tamaki had never met such a kind soul before, and he was absolutely captivated by your charms.
Soon enough, he began visiting more frequently on his own, and you were thrilled with the thought that he was getting more comfortable around you. Each time he visited you'd always send him with a little goodie bag with a pastry or two, something that you normally wouldn't do for just anyone.
There were only a few key encounters that you remembered with him. One was when you were closing up, with Tamaki sitting at one of the tables and keeping you company since you were by yourself that night. You had to walk home since the train was down that day, and Tamaki had offered to walk you there - for safety, of course.
"Are you sure?"
You hadn't wanted to push him so far out of his comfort zone.
"...It's dark. It wouldn't be safe you to walk on your own. Sorry."
And so you accepted, the two of you walking side by side until you got to where you lived. It was the fact that it was something out of the ordinary that made the memory so important to you. Along with the realization that he had come to you on his own advances, surely that could be a sign of acceptance or comfort?
Either way, you cherished the thought, and you held onto it with a rigorous hope blooming in your heart, growing only with each interaction.
As time moved on, the three continued visiting as much as they could, and you even spent some time with them outside of the bakery. Small festivities were being held since the one and only Golden Week was coming up, and they each invited you to come with them to the festivals and parades in the coming week.
The air buzzed with excitement, and the bakery was swamped with cheerful orders as people planned out their celebrations. You even had to go as far as pushing back your closing time just to accommodate all the orders, but you didn't mind too much since it was all in great spirit.
The end of the day approached much faster than you had realized, and you only came to know this due to the trio arriving at their usual time at the end of the day.
"Wow! It's crowded in here! Looks like you're gonna be busy for awhile, huh?" Just the same, Mirio was the first to greet you, with Nejire piping up behind him.
"O-oh, so does that mean you can't hang out?" She asked with slight dejection in her tone, yet it wasn't as prominent as her air of glee that nearly shadowed the small negative moment.
You looked at them with an apologetic smile, promising to take a day off to spend time with them at the festival. They both smiled in response, and Mirio went to Tamaki to hear his thoughts on the idea.
"That sounds fine with us! You can't control work after all, what do you think- ...Tamaki?" Your attention was directed to where the taller boy was looking behind him, and you three were all met with nothing. He wasn't there.
"Hm, I swear he was with us when we arrived!" Mirio's expression was now one of confusion, his brows furrowing.
"Yeah, I wonder- Oh! There he is!" Nejire began, then turned to point outside the door to see the missing boy still standing at the entrance - hands in pockets and trembling slightly.
The three of you turned to see what she was pointing at, and you huffed out a small laugh, realizing that so many people in one area would naturally be Tamaki repellent. So in a way you had no idea what you were expecting, but you weren't upset with the thought - just a little amused.
"Well, I guess that's where he is. I'll be sure to tell him, and we'll come back when it dies down, thanks for having us!" Mirio waved his hand as he held open the entrance door, Nejire skipping out and then waving from behind the glass window (shouting a muffled "bye bye!" that you couldn't fully hear due to the surrounding chatter).
You watched them go for a second, then realized something as Tamaki's eyes sorrowfully met yours, clearly upset with his timidness that caused him to not be able to see you properly due to his apprehensive feelings of being around large crowds.
It was the same look he had in the beginning when you first met him, one of utter powerlessness and regret. You weren't about to undo all the hard work you had built up to befriending him, so you rushed out with a small bag of goodies to help remind him of all your chats and walks.
"Tamaki-kun! Please wait!" The trio all turned almost immediately upon hearing your voice, Tamaki being the quickest to come to a halt and whip around. You were calling out for him, for him. Looking closer, he saw the typical goodie bag and understood your intentions.
"Here." You grabbed his hands and placed the bag gently in them, giving them a squeeze before waving bye to them and rushing back inside to assist your coworkers with the rush.
Tamaki was frozen in place. You held his hands. He couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it if it didn't just happen in front of him. Mirio and Nejire both looked over, curious at the new information. Mirio then grinned as he realized what was going on, nudging his friend in the side with good hearted intentions.
"So-o~" Tamaki frowned at his friend's teasing voice, directing the gift away from his sight only for Nejire to approach him on his other side and attempt to grab the bag from him with gleeful curiosity.
"It's nothing, seriously" Mirio didn't seem to believe him as he looked at him with a smug grin and waved his eyebrows. Tamaki furrowed his own, and Mirio silently responded with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders. Before anything else could be said, Nejire turned at Mirio and they both shared a look of understanding before Mirio patted Tamaki and the shoulder.
"Alright, alright, if you say so~"
"I'm serious, Mirio-" He cut Tamaki off with a wave of the hand.
"Yeah, like I said, I get it. We'll just all hang out some other time, 'kay?"
And with that they all walked off, yet Tamaki couldn't forget the expression the two of his friends held, knowing they were always up to something. He'd just have to hope it wasn't anything bad.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•
The next morning things began to slow down because your bakery was taking a day off to restock and prepare for the upcoming influx of orders, one of the biggest times of year - only coming second to Christmas and New Years.
It was your favorite kind of day, a day filled with no orders or customers, just baking and decorations and preparing. It was all hands on deck, the bakery set up to be swarmed with workers in the upcoming hours. You had come early to set things up, seeing as you had nothing else planned that day.
As you reached the entrance, you fumbled around your pocket for the key, the feeling of some unknown paper catching your attention. You huffed to yourself, hoping you didn't forget some wrappers in there again, only to be met with a neatly folded note upon pulling it out.
Catching you off guard, you nearly forgot to open up the bakery if it weren't for the sudden clank of your keys hitting the cement as they fell out of your pocket. Opening the doors and setting your things down, you finally unfolded the note to read its contents.
"Dear [Name],
When I first met you, you were the sweetest person I had ever met. You saw something in me others didn't. Your baking skills are unmatched, and your desserts are like little pieces of heaven. I always look forward to coming to the bakery just to see you.
If you want to find me, follow the upcoming clues. Find the next clue where you usually get your special ingredients.
- Your Secret Admirer"
Red began to coat your cheeks as your face warmed upon reading the note. Rereading it over another two times to make sure you didn't miss anything, you simply stood in shock, not knowing what to make it the sudden event.
It couldn't have been a person playing a prank, right? But then, why would they go through the efforts to write such a sweet note? It didn't make any sense to you... and all of a sudden it hit you. What if Tamaki-...?
Shaking your head, you pushed the thought away. He could've... He wouldn't... Right? But it did make sense with how shy he was... But he's not the type to do that! Right?
For a split second you considered dumping the note somewhere and starting work, when a flicker of curiosity got sparked on by a sliver of hope.
Maybe...
You'd give it a shot, after all what harm could a little game cause? Hopefully it'd be quick.
You read over the note once more, and immediately pinpointed the spot, as the "special ingredients" of yours were simply things that were prepared for the festivals.
You went out to the kitchen, and as you opened the pantry you saw white in the corner of your eye.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Meanwhile, Tamaki was getting ready to walk back to his home after training at UA - a daily occurrence on weekend mornings. Packing his things in his duffle bag, he jumped a bit upon hearing a crinkling after shoving a piece of his equipment in the bag. Hoping he didn't forget or damage something important, he took out a few things one at a time until he found the source.
A cute little note was sitting in his bag, surrounded by his clothes and training gear. A shiny red heart sticker decorated the front flap, and it was milk white. Not being able to do anything but stare at it in shock, Tamaki swallowed thickly, the note seemingly weighing heavily upon him.
He gently brought it out, hands shaking as he looked at it. His mind once again went into overdrive, thoughts pushing in and flying out all around his head.
On one hand, he didn't want to raise his hopes up only to be crushed. He was given enough joke letters in middle school to know better, and the memories of it caused him to break into a cold sweat as he stared the note in indecisive agony.
Then again... There was the (ever so small) chance that it could've been real. He didn't want to think about the logic, Tamaki only wanted this to end without anything bad happening. There was no shame in opening it, after all.
He delicately unfolded the note, taking a deep breath before reading its contents.
"My dear Tamaki,
You're always one of my favorite faces to see each day. You light up my day and you have the true heart of a hero!
If you want to find me, follow these clues: To find the next note, go to the spot that's filled with life in the air fluttering around you.
I look forward to seeing you!
~ Your Secret Admirer "
Nope. He couldn't do it. A simple note was one thing, but a whole search was another. What if he was led on? What if it was nothing but a prank? No, he couldn't handle the embarrassment.
He folded it and put it in his pocket, hiking his bag over his shoulder as he left UA high. As he made his way throughout the streets, he couldn't help but continually think about that note.
What if it really was someone that made it for him out of love? What if they were waiting somewhere for him? And how disappointed would they be if he didn't show up?! They'd think he was a jerk!
Tamaki stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and gripped his bag tighter under his hands. Looking down at the ground with an agonized expression, he didn't know what to do. He didn't like drama, and he certainly didn't want to in middle of something like this, completely the dark.
Well.. 'fluttering'...
He had a small idea of where the other note might've been. Maybe taking a small detour wouldn't hurt...
Tamaki breathed in to ease his nerves. If it got to be too much he wouldn't push himself, he'd just quit.
He turned and made his way to the park, heading straight for his favorite area where the butterflies liked to group since there were clusters of flowers over there. He looked around, in no hurry and simply enjoying scenery. That's when he saw a note taped to the large oak tree- right where he liked to sit and do his work sometimes.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•
You turned to see the note that was sitting ever so delicately over the ingredients. You plucked it off from the wall it was taped to, and quickly opened it to read it.
"Dear [Name],
Your bright personality fills my day with joy. The way you treat your customers shows me you have a big heart of gold. You're much too sweet for this world!
The next note is placed where a statue of gold stands with its fist in the air.
See you there! ♡
~ Your ever so loving Admirer "
Gold? Gold... You thought about it for a second before immediately remembering the All Might statue that stood on the center of taken, decked completely in gold paint.
Town square... You knew it'd be quite busy with preparations and festivals, but you still went seeing as it was close by. Your coworkers were doing just fine, and everything was ahead of schedule, so why not?
A quick trip on your bike and you were there. The area was buzzing with activity, and you had to swerve around groups of people just to get to the statue.
Upon arrival, you looked up at the statue standing mighty and towering over everyone. Some people had placed Boy's Day carp streamers on the sides and some necklaces on the neck of the golden All Might. You laughed a little, enjoying how he was always decorated, before circling around to search for the note.
Panic began to seep through you as you circled twice and came across no sign of a note. They said golden, right? You knew of no other golden statue in the area, the only other one being a golden flame all the way in Tokyo.
Your eyebrows creased, and worry gnawed at you as you frantically searched all over the statue. Only to come up with nothing. Was this it?
Sighing, you turned to leave, disappointment weighing heavily upon your heart. Before you could take more than 3 steps, a sudden tap on your shoulder caught you off guard, and you turned to see a friendly looking lady smiling at you while offering you something. Initially thinking it was a free sample, you tried to decline, only for your eyes to widen in realization. Looking closer, you saw that she was holding a white letter with a shiny red heart sticker holding it closed.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•
As Tamaki went over to the tree to pull off the note, he began to hope that all this wasn't some elaborate trick. From all the little notes you put in the bags you gave him that held the pastries, he began to suspect this wasn't even the same handwriting.
He opened the note to read it, hoping this game wasn't going to last too long. It was beginning to get tiring living in a state that was a mixture of hope and worry.
"Dear Tamaki,
I'm so proud of you combating your anxious thoughts everyday, I know it's hard. Your courageousness certainly benefits! You help so many people each day, you're a true hero, through and through!
Go find next note where you took down your first villain. See you there!
~ Someone who admires you with all their heart"
These notes were getting to be too much for him. Why did this have to happen? He finally catches the eye of someone, and he can't even know who they are unless he plays this game.
It was a little enjoyable though, the unfamiliar events causing him to rethink so many aspects he once held about himself and his life. It was eye opening, too bad it had to be shoved in his face for him to see it.
Gently folding the note and placing it with the others in his pocket, he sat back and thought. Now.. where did he take down his first villain? What could be considered his first win?
The more he thought about it, the more shocked he grew at the number of things he's accomplished over the years. He didn't think it all added up to much, but just trying to remember a certain event that happened his first year of secondary school all seemed like so much alone.
Racking his brain, he came up with a small list of villains he took down around the same time.
There were three instances he remembered, but he just couldn't pinpoint the first if asked. Panic ensued, and he started hyperventilating until he calmed himself down.
'Let's think logically now...'
The first one was more of a con-man than a hero, tricking innocent civilians into believing his lies about heroes and trying to get people to buy his quirk supplements. Tamaki scratched that one off the list, the man put up no fight.
The second one was a cult member who believed quirks were the downfall of society. She had set up an elaborate trap in the center of town, where numerous stands, shops, and people were. It was busy, with vendors selling food, ingredients, and supplies.
She had tried building several barricades around the area and blowing it up, but ultimately failed after Tamaki got to her first. Now that he thought about it, he remembered that in a last ditch attempt she had grabbed a hostage and threatened to use her quirk on them. He was sure he had taken the lady down himself.
Then the third was simply a person who could alter photos on any piece of media. They had tried violently assaulting a hero to frame them and pretend that heroes hurt innocent civilians unprovoked. Tamaki was quick to take them down, even with as sneaky and sly as they were with escaping.
Picking through his options, he decided to go with the second one. The one in town square. The place that was currently crowded full of people celebrating Golden Week...
He gulped at the thought.
The white paper crinkled and deformed in his shaking grip as he clutched it tighter unconsciously at the thought. He'd only have this one chance find out if it was worth it...
Truth be told, Tamaki knew he had to train himself on getting better on dealing with crowded spaces, seeing as he going to be a full fledged hero one day. He just didn't think it'd be so soon.
It was now or never...
•°•°•°•°•°•°•
You looked at the note the mysterious lady had given you with a blank expression. It held no letters of affirmation like the others except for an "Almost there!".
On it was a map. A map you weren't familiar with. You recognized the very place you were standing, and decided to break it down into chunks. You saw the statue... And took a few steps in the direction of the arrows until you saw a crooked sign that matched the one on the map. One step at a time, you followed the steps on the map to the best of your ability.
It was entertaining in a way, as it reminded you of the pirates you always on the TV when you were little. In a way, you were also hunting for a treasure - it was just a little different than gold coins and shiny jewels.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Tamaki stood frozen. All around him people bustled about, swerving around him, running past him, carrying heavy, hot, or delicate containers. Talking in loud voices, singing songs, placing decorations on things, running around... It was overwhelming.
For a split second Tamaki wondered if he was in too deep and debated on whether or not he should leave.
'No... It'd be silly to give up this far...'
Steeling himself the best he could, he breathed in and tried to ignore the crowd that caused his body to shake with nerves.
He stuck close to the walls, looking around for a clue, any clue. This letter was so vague, he would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about finding it out not. Even if he were to ask for help, the number of people that would actually be able to direct him or do anything helpful would be too tiny to risk sounding foolish.
Sighing out tiredly, he looked at the sky to see sun lowering. Not to the point to where it was dark, but just enough so it surprised him with how long he had been playing this game. No, he definitely couldn't quit now.
A tap on his shoulder caught him off guard, and he almost jumped into the air if he hadn't been on guard all day. Turning around, he saw no one. Now this was confusing. He simply scratched his head and supposed it was someone playing that tap shoulder game.
Well, he did at first. Until he looked down and saw a note left sitting on the edge of the golden statue, almost as if it was waiting for him. He groaned, knowing what he had to do.
Tamaki clenched his jaw, and hesitantly pushed his way through the crowd of people. Slowly... Slowly... A sharp contrast to the hurried, constantly flowing around him.
People pushed and pulled, the crowd moving in an almost hypnotic manner. It was as if it was alive, like a river winding down the roads of the city. A sea of people that threatened to swallow Tamaki in its deep, dark waters. It swelled, it shrunk. It swerved and straightened. It was like he was looking the beast of his fear directly in its glowing eyes.
And it looked back.
What was supposed to be a short walk normally was stretched out beyond, due to the fact Tamaki had to shuffle around so many bodies that brushed against his.
Closing his eyes, he reminded himself.
'I can do this...'
Opening them, he almost didn't believe it as he looked at statue that sat directly in front of him. He had so many worries and anxious thoughts about whether he could, he didn't stop think about what would happen if he did.
And yet, he was there. The white paper in between his fingertips bearing the weight of his struggles.
He opened it, only to be greeted with a congratulations and a map...
•°•°•°•°•°•°•
You had struggled a bit and had to restart after mistaking a certain shop for the one on the map. This time, you decided you'd give it your all.
The sun was setting lower and lower in the sky, the purple color taking place of the bright orange, and the darker blue (that was almost black) taking place of the purple.
Slowly, more and more lights began flickering to life, and you panicked once again, hoping you weren't slowing things down.
Step by step, slowly but surely you eventually followed the landmarks in a chain, one by one. You let the guide lead you up to a grassy hill in the park next to town, right at a point where you could see both the town festivities and what went on in the grassy field on the other side.
It was a beautiful sight. The sun lowering with the creamy beige and pink clouds surrounding it, the flickering lights as they began to be turned on, streamers and kites rising above the city... It was magical.
You stood, simply enjoying view. You had already saw the note sitting on the tree that stated you had reached the final destination. But you weren't too bothered with that anymore.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Tamaki grunted, frowning at the map as he nervously sped around the landmarks it read. He didn't know what was expecting him, but he was tired and the anxiety of not knowing what it was drained him further. He clung onto the hope that whatever it was, it was worth the effort. He didn't know what he'd do if it was all a joke. The pain would be monumental.
He passed the statue. He curved around the bent sign. He walked past the shop. Following all these steps diligently, Tamaki was determined to make the most of his time and effort. It had to be worth it. He really hoped so.
As he was walking, Tamaki began thinking. That villain he took down... Memories began surfacing, vague and fuzzy. It was difficult, trying to bring something into sight when you can't even remember what it was you wanted to see. The more he thought, the more a distant shape began to take place, unstable and quick to fall apart if looked at too long, too delicate to handle.
Now that he thought about it, your face looked so favorite familiar...
However, Tamaki didn't have much time to think about it as he looked up to see a grassy hill - the end point of this whole thing.
He stalled, now suddenly feeling shy and timid. He remembered the initial fears he had when he first started this game, and now he didn't know what he should do.
Only, he looked up at the hill, and those fears went away. Because standing at the top, in all your glory... Was you.
You were looking off to the side, looking at the beautiful scene that played out in front of you, the golden and orange colors of the setting sun swathing you in its sheet of light, only serving to further cement the look of grace and elegance that surrounded you. You hadn't noticed him standing at the bottom of the hill, too occupied with the gentle landscape ahead of you, a look of bliss adorning your face.
And at that moment, for the first time Tamaki felt... Calm.
Calm when normally his heart would be breathing out of his chest.
Calm when normally he would've broken out into a cold sweat.
Calm when normally his head would be barraging him with terrible, fearful thoughts.
All he felt was at ease. And it was amazing, astounding even. He normally only felt comfortable whenever he was at his own house, alone.
Yet, looking at you gave him a sense of comfort, a feeling that he couldn't explain, only feel and experience.
And that's when he remembered.
All those years ago during his first year of UA, he had started interning with Fatgum. His anxiety back then was eternally much, much, worse. So much farther behind his peers, Tamaki had wondered if he'd even make it out as a hero. When all his classmates were already being seen as future heroes, when they had already taken down too many criminals and villains to count... He was still hiding his face in the wall.
He wasn't even on the clock that day, he had just been strolling around and enjoying a calm, cool day. It began to get crowded, and naturally he went to leave to somewhere less populated.
And that's when he ran into a shady figure with the same idea. There was a lady who had been walking around, hands in pockets and head down. He knew something was wrong, but he doubted his judgement.
The actual fight was blurry, he didn't remember much of that. Just the fact that he saw her placing what he knew was explosives, and a chase ensued where he also saw her locking in gates, doors, and walls to keep people from escaping.
He had looked around for a hero, nervous about whether or not he could actually do this alone. All his classmates at least had the wisdom of their mentors at their side... He was alone.
He had to steel himself that day for the first time. He had to scream at himself in his head that if he didn't do something because of his anxiety, people would die.
And he fought. And he was ahead. He was winning. The lady wasn't the best with combat, but she still put up quite a fight. Yet, Tamaki was winning, he had the upper hand. It was thrilling, yet terrifying. But still, he'd do it again to prevent the deaths of innocent people.
However at that moment, the lady split off and ran into the crowd, and Tamaki followed her without thought. He only knew something was up when a ring of shouting and worried people started to form, and he had followed the crowd. Only to see the lady holding a random person she had grabbed from the crowd, holding her hand against their head. And that person..
Was you.
It was you.. Tamaki couldn't believe he forgot. He knew your face looked familiar.
He had defeated the lady, and you had thanked him in abundance, a sweet smile decorating your relieved face.
After that, you had walked off. Only, right before that he remembered you had reached into your bag to hand him something.
What was it again?
Tamaki toiled adamantly, trying to piece together the random floating fragments of memories that flew around the vastness of his head. He thought about the past and the present, trying to come to a logical result.
Was it a trinket? No, he would've kept it.
How about a small drawing or something? No, he wouldn't put it in his pocket, and he remembered there was nothing in there.
What was it? You were a baker, so he began to believe it was a treat of some sort...
He gasped lightly to himself. That's why it all looked so familiar.
It a cookie... Decorated to look like a cat.
Too many things clashed together at once, and all Tamaki could do was look up at you in awe and nostalgia. The sounds around the park had subsided as it was getting darker, people all going inside to prepare before going to come out again in some time.
The empty air whistled around, rustling the trees and giving a slight chill to the both of you as the sun lowered even further into the darkness - not quite gone, yet not quite there.
He looked up at you solemnly once more, taking in a heavy breath as he shook at the implications that awaited him. He looked back to the time you rushed out of the bakery just for him. You had run out to still include him, even if he shied away due to his anxious thoughts.
Now it was his turn.
He walked up the hill, step by step. Bit by bit.
The entire way there he didn't take his eyes off you, not even once. His thoughts were screaming at him in his head, and his face was practically lit aflame. Yet he walked up to you with the practiced stride of that of a hero who had a deep focus he intended to complete.
You watched the sun slowly lowering, the light quivering and distorting the lower it got to the bottom of the horizon. The largest stars began to litter the sky, a balance of grey in a black and white world. Where it's not yet day, nor night.
A slight crunching off to the side caught your attention, and it suddenly hit you. You remembered the game you had played, and you stilled for a second in confusion before turning to see the source of the noise.
Eyes widening in surprise, your breath hitched as you came eye-to-eye with the person you had been wanting to see all day.
Tamaki came to a slow halt once he stood directly across from you. Neither had expected to get this far, yet it was equally desired.
Tamaki's hands broke out into a cold sweat as he trembled in place, scared yet still determined. Your heart hammered in your chest, a look of wonder taking hold of your expression.
"I-"
"You-"
Looking at each other with a bewildered appearance, a grin suddenly formed across your face as you broke out into a fit of snickers, Tamaki joining in with that crooked smile of his. He was eternally grateful you knew how to defuse his nervousness, even without particularly trying.
"I suppose... You got the notes too?"
You chuckled a bit, rubbing the back of your neck. "Yeah, I don't suppose you were the one responsible for them?"
He shook his head, a knowing smile growing on the both of your faces as you recalled two particularly mischievous friends of yours.
"No, it wasn't me, sorry."
He swallowed thickly, quickly deciding to get this over with.
"But..."
He choked on his words a bit, the idea and fear of rejection taking hold once again. He loved having you as a friend, and while the idea of being something more was certainly appealing, he couldn't risk losing what he already had. It was terrifying. Even with that small part that constantly screamed for him to get over it.
You smiled softly, a silent understanding. "But..." You parroted, stepping forward and gently taking his hand in yours.
He felt the connection, and you both went silent, only looking at your intertwined hands. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to force the words out. All that came out was his hand enclosing yours.
Yet it spoke so much more than words could've.
The sun had completely gone down at this point, leaving the two of you to depend on the few surrounding street lights that were placed farther below. The darkness was comforting in a way, and Tamaki felt a little more at ease without his sight constantly worrying him.
If he looked closely enough however, he could trace the outlines of your face, the soft light of the curved moon lighting up the edges of your jaw and nose, along with adding a slight shimmer to your eyes. The darkness took away most of his sight, but it strengthened his other senses. Such as the feeling of your warm, soft hand in his.
The cool breeze blew by once more. A setting that Tamaki knew he was comfortable with.
You were about to say something, when you felt a gentle tug on your hand. Looking back up, you saw the silhouette of Tamaki looking back at you, gesturing gently downwards towards an empty field of grass at the bottom of the hill.
You silently followed, a giddy grin on your face and fuzzy feelings in your stomach. You both stumbled down, softly laughing at the clumsiness caused because of the lack of light. Your laughter rang out like sweet chimes and bells to Tamaki, and he wanted to hear more. He wanted to see you smile more. For you to be more content. All around him, with him, because of him.
You both came to a stop in the middle of the flourishing grassy area, filled with moist plants trying to cling to your legs and the calming aroma that was caused from the rain that fell the night before. You giggled and grabbed Tamaki's other hand, unknowingly giving him a slight confidence boost that was so badly needed for him.
He smiled at your cheerful state, thrilled that this wasn't going bad as he feared. He looked at you directly, silently diverting your attention to him. Tamaki smiled kindly before turning to look at the expanse of grass that grew tall and short all around you.
You turned to try to see what he was looking at, and Tamaki looked at you from the corner of his eye with a tender smile before softly brushing his arm over some of the taller grasses that grew, causing them to gently sway. You were about to ask him the reasoning behind his odd behavior, but your question died out before you could get it out of your throat.
What had caught your attention was little yellow and golden glowing specks that flickered to life before hazily floating around in the air, some almost as if they were half asleep, others shooting around as if they were a coiled spring waiting to jump to life.
They were fireflies. Tons of them.
You looked up around you in awe, and for a split second Tamaki was grateful for his secluded lifestyle, only knowing of this trick after years of visiting this grassy plain since he was a child. It was a secret only few knew of, and he was more than willing to share it with you. The look on your face caused him no regrets - a first in his life.
You continued looking around at the fluttering orbs of light, their soft glows weakly illuminating the area. It was surreal in a way, and the constant feeling that you were floating around in outer space never left you.
Letting out a soft chuckle, Tamaki gingerly squeezed your hand a little, seeing no way in which he'd allow this moment to be ruined by his nervous thoughts.
Laughing in response, you grabbed his hand tighter in yours, and with you leading the way you both walked around the field together, igniting many more of the fireflies to begin flying around at the disturbance in the grass. All around you now they fluttered, their glow flickering and buzzing. It was as if little stars were surrounding you, always in constant motion.
The sounds of the people beginning to come out started trickling in, fading in from small laughs and chatting and growing into an inferno of singing, clanking, yells and screeches of joy from little children and the barking of a random dog every now and then. The festivals were starting, but luckily they were held on the other side of the park, it being split in two by a thick layer of trees heavy with leaves.
Your attention was brought back to Tamaki again as he feebly tugged your hand once more, avoiding eye contact with you when you turned by directing his attention to ground, timidly rubbing the nape of his neck.
Reaching out a hand, you softly brought his head up to look you in the eyes, offering him a kind smile when he followed suit. He felt inside of his mouth grow dry and his heart skipped a beat. You looked too lovely for him to handle, the light caused by the flames of the lamps being set out illuminating you in a dreamlike manner.
"So... About those notes" you started.
His eyes flickered up to yours for a second before just as quickly flittering back away. "I'm sorry if they caused any trouble... "
He looked down further at the ground, the swaying grass helping to comfort him a bit. He liked being outdoors, being one with nature.
"But... Whatever they held... Ne-never compared to how I really feel about you"
Darn, the stuttering was kicking in. He needed to get his words out or it'll get worse. He didn't think he'd be able to bear the embarrassment.
"Tamaki-"
He grabbed your other hand in shaking grip. All inside, his body and mind was going into overdrive, he was melting from the inside out. His brain screamed and his body trembled. Things were falling apart, deteriorating. But he wasn't going to leave without you at least knowing how he felt. He was terrified. But bravery isn't the absence of fear. It's being courageous in the company of fear. Fatgum taught him that.
Time to be brave.
"I can't keep this from you anymore, and-and I'll understand if you don't feel the same. I-I'll get it..."
He took a deep breath before looking you in the eyes.
"I really don't want to lose you... So ple-please, if this is stupid, please tell me now. I want you in my life anyway I can-"
Before he finished you squeezed his hands, cutting him off. "I can never leave you. I never want you to worry about that, okay?" Your voice was soft and serene.
Tamaki gulped and nodded. "I have this weird feeling when i'm with you, I can't explain it, but I know it's a good feeling..."
"...So please... [Name]"
He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to get it out quickly enough before his mind could retort.
"Iloveyousorry.." (I love you, sorry)
He froze in place, not even bothering trying to take his hands back from you to his side. He simply stilled, every inch of him frozen in terror, worry, and anticipation. He's never even felt this anxious over any of the villains he fought.
A thick silence weighed down upon the two of you as you tried to take it all in. It was heavy, the sheer power of three simple words.
You could see Tamaki beginning to shake more and more, and through his shut eyes you saw small tears forming. Quickly jumping into action, you attempted to calm him down.
"Hey... calm down, it's okay." You rubbed his hands in yours with your thumb, trying to urge him to look up at you. He didn't speak, only shaking his head to the side a bit.
"Tamaki..."
You looked down at the ground too, your own stomach fluttering and heart thumping in your chest. Now it's your turn.
"I... I love you too."
Clearly not expecting that response, Tamaki blinked opened his eyes, slowly pulling his head back up to look at you once again. He looked at you in silence for a second, caught off guard by the response.
"You.." he then pointed to himself, dazed. "M-me...?"
You shook your head, chuckling a little.
"Yes, you. Yes, I love you. It's always been you, just you and only you..."
"You're everything I've always wanted and more..." He whispered lightly, stunned and barely holding it all together. He felt lightheaded, and drunk on joy. His heart no longer beat in aching desperation, but rather now for you. His mind no longer screamed at him but rather sat silently, you being the only one that was able to make the painful words disappear.
The wind bristled the leaves of the trees and caused the tall blades of grass surrounding you to flutter and quiver. Someone was cooking something nearby, because the smell of warm cooked foods wafted through the air. Laughter rung about and filled the area with a sense of comfort.
Time seemed to freeze around the both of you, the feeling of being the only ones to exist engulfing you both entirely as you looked each other eye in loving eye.
You both seemed to be drawn in by each other's presence, as if a magnet was pulling you towards each other. Soon enough, you both were barely inches from each other. You looked up at him, simply enjoying each other's company in comfortable silence.
"Can I... Can I hug you?" You broke the barrier with your question, and for the first time Tamaki saw you nervous. You, the one who was just as boisterous as Mirio and Nejire. You, who was friendly with everyone you ran into. You, who was now standing in front of him, fiddling with your fingers in his hands and switching your weight on each foot as you fidgeted from side to side.
He shook his head, a small tender smile growing on face. "I'd like that..."
You leaned in, a little surprised to see Tamaki leaning in as well to meet you halfway. Both your arms wrapped around each other in a loving, silent embrace. He rested his head on your shoulder, and you noticed his grip was light, too afraid of squeezing you too tight.
Staying that way for a couple minutes, you both visibly relaxed at the relief that came with the realization that it was all over. No more games. No more desperate pinning. No more lonely heartaches. You had him and he had you.
Feeling Tamaki begin to pull away slightly, both your faces warmed when you realized just how close you both were. He stuttered a bit, quietly to himself, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
"Can I... - no sorry, forget I said anything"
He tried diverting his attention to the ground again, although you noticed he never removed his arms from around you, both not wanting to leave the warmth and comfort of the other. You gently brought him to face you again.
"No, no... You can ask me anything. Please don't worry about any judgment from me, I'm not going to get upset with you."
He slightly brought in some air through his teeth, creating a light hissing sound as he debated over it, ultimately deciding to go for it.
"May I... I-is it if I kiss you?" His voice grew quieter as he spoke, until it was almost unintelligible at the end - which it possibly would've been if you weren't so close to him.
Your face warmed as your heart hammered away once again, a shy smile forming on your lips.
"I'd... Like that. Please"
He nodded, and without any further words leaned in, connecting to you in a quick, sweet peck. He pulled away for a second, but you leaned in and crashed your lips against his once more. He froze for a second, face burning hot, before finally melting into your embrace. His hand moved from around your back to settling on your waist, content and comfortable.
The moment was tender and soft, and the two of you were too wrapped up in each other to pay any attention to the fireworks that blazed across the sky in their colorful glory, marking the peak of the festival.
Pulling away, you both looked at each other for a split second, before Tamaki burst into red, pulling you a little closer and nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck, the red reaching all the way up to his ears.
You simply held him close just as he did to you as well, both reveling in the loving solace you brought one another. The fireworks continued to go off. The fireflies were still flickering. People were laughing, and music was still being played.
You smiled as you turned to Tamaki, the smile growing at how content he was while holding you in his arms.
"Tamaki...?"
He opened his eyes, pulling away to look at you clearly. "Yes?"
"Do you want to go look at to festival with me?"
At that moment Tamaki realized just how drained he was. That game had taken most of the day to complete, and being constantly surrounded by people along with the anxiety that was brought on by his worrying about confessing only served to drain him further.
"I'm a little tired..."
"It's alright, we can get something to eat and then head home."
He smiled softly and held you tenderly, completely enamored by how you were so loving and kind.
"I'd like that..."
•°•°•°•°•°•°•
"So-o ~"
Mirio teased Tamaki as they walked through the hallways to the cafeteria.
"I-it's nothing, Mirio" Tamaki groaned in response, regretting having let his friends in on what had went down only a few nights before.
You had both agreed to start seeing each other officially, and soon enough Tamaki became a regular at the bakery you worked at, much to Mirio's and Nejire's delight.
"Seems like it's something to me!"
Nejire piped, am equally teasing look on her face as well.
Tamaki could only groan and hide his face in his hands as Mirio and Nejire congratulated him, with Mirio patting him in the back with his good hearted nature.
Tamaki was eternally grateful he had you in his life. You helped him see things about himself he never knew before, helping to boost his confidence a smidge along with easing his anxiety levels. In a way, you were his new emotional comfort, no longer needing to hide his face in the walls as much (he'd just go to you for a hug instead).
And it was all because of a little cat cookie.
∴∵∴ ୨୧ ∴∵∴ ୨୧ ∴∵∴ ୨୧ ∴∴∵∴ ୨୧ ∴∵∴ ୨୧ ∴∵∴
BONUS:
"I knew she looked familiar!" The blue haired girl exclaimed.
"Yeah, but he's never going to admit he has feelings for her anytime soon, you have any ideas?" The blond boy questioned, his finger on his chin.
"Ooh! I know! What if we write them confession letters, and sign them from each other!" The girl came up with.
"Hmm, I was going to say Scavenger Hunt, but I like that idea too"
The girl hummed in thought, when a mischievous smile broke out across her face.
"Why don't we combine them?"
The blond chuckled, an equally wily smile growing on his own face as well, his blue eyes sparkling playfully.
"I like the sound of that. They'll be sure to have lots of fun!"
Fun for them, maybe.
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A/N:
I'm sorry if that wasn't the best! It's not exactly what I normally write, but it was still such fun writing anyways! ୧꒰*´꒳`*꒱૭✧
Also for some reason a lot of my friends were particularly interested in seeing how this one turned out [probably because it's the first romance I've written wwww ( ´⁠ε⁠`⁠ ⁠) ]
I hope you liked this at least a little, I tried rather hard with this one because I wanted it to be realistic but not boring, and fluffy but not embarrassing to read ヾ(´▽`)
Requests are open! Tags are open! Feel free to ask anything or let me know of any feedback/comments you have! I appreciate it a lot! (ृ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ृ )
Thank you all again! I hope you have a lovely day! ⁠♡
年2023/月05/日10
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heich0e · 3 months
Text
"kats, your tag's stickin' up."
katsuki hums in some kind of recognition, your remark of no particular interest to him at the moment. he's sitting with his back to you at his kitchen table, hunched over a bowl of cereal—the boring kind that's good for you, the kind of stuff your grandma likes—and a textbook that's been meticulously highlighted and has notes written in the margins. you reach towards the back of his neck without thinking, pinching the little tag between your fingers and tucking it back down under the collar of his t-shirt. your fingertips brush against the warm skin at his nape as you do so.
the boy in front of you grunts in surprise at the unexpected contact, his shoulders lifting all the way up to his ears as he pitches himself forward across the table away from you. he almost knocks his bowl of cereal over in the process, and he chokes loudly on the mouthful he's chewing as he goes.
"the hell was that for?" katsuki barks out hoarsely after he's managed to swallow down the cereal lodged in his throat, he doesn't turn to look at you as he says it.
"jeez," you remark incredulously, startled by his reaction to such an innocuous gesture. "i was just tucking in the tag!"
"never asked you to do that," katsuki grumbles as he settles back in his seat. you watch as he fiddles with the spoon in his bowl, but doesn't take another bite, and you can't help but notice the pink flush that's crawled up his throat all the way to his ears.
"hey," you remark curiously, still standing behind him with your hands on your hips. "is your neck ticklish?"
he finally turns in his seat, glaring at you over his shoulder.
"no," he snaps.
his cheeks are pink too.
you and katsuki have only been hooking up for a few months, so there are lots of things you don't yet know about each other. sure, you've been superficially acquainted since high school—at least enough to recognize each others' names—but knowing someone in passing and knowing the intimate intricacies of their body are two vastly different things. hell, this is only your second time spending the night at katsuki's apartment, and the first time ever on a school night.
your eyes glance over to the clock on the stove at the reminder. it's still only 7:30—katsuki had risen at the ass-crack of dawn, much to your horror. his first class isn't even until 11:00 while yours is at 9:30, and you would have happily slept in for another hour if not for him waking you as he crawled out of his bed.
"hey, you mind if i borrow a shirt or something to wear to class?" you ask him, scratching at the warm skin of your tummy under the oversized hoodie you'd pulled on when you rolled out of his sheets that morning. you wouldn't be opposed to keeping it on, but it's a nice brand—and one of his favourites, given how often you've seen him wear it—so you don't dare request it.
katsuki turns to look at you again, cheeks still pink, eyes still narrowed.
"a shirt?" he asks. "why?"
"you got cum—"
"for fucks' sake," katsuki interrupts you, looking away—largely, you suspect, to hide the renewed reddening of his cheeks. "didn't you bring a change of clothes?"
"i would have," you chirp, "but if i recall correctly, the text you sent me at 11:30 last night seemed like me getting here right after i left the library was suuuuuper important."
"just.. wear that one." katsuki waves his hand dismissively over his shoulder, and you stare at his back a little dumbfoundedly. you hadn't expected that at all.
he shoves another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
katsuki sure has been full of surprises these past few months. you learn more about him every day. and not just about his body and what makes him feel good—that's sort of a given with casual, no-strings relationships like this one—but about his likes and dislikes, his quirks and eccentricities too. like what he eats for breakfast, or how his neck is ticklish, or the way he organizes the shoes on the shoe rack just inside his front door. you're not sure you dislike it, either, unravelling him bit by bit.
and katsuki doesn't say it, but he feels largely the same—realizing with every passing day that he's uncovering more about you than he ever thought he would that first night the two of you ended up fooling around after running into each other at a bar near campus.
katsuki had just gotten out of a long-term relationship. well, just meaning five months prior—though his friends often remind him that there's nothing "just" about five months. but contrary to popular belief, katsuki had always been a serial-monogamous dater, going from one long-term relationship to the next without any flings in-between. he had no intention of hooking up with anyone, least of all you, that night.
but one thing lead to another, and now here you are: shuffling around his kitchen as you try to find where he keeps his mugs, wearing his favourite sweatshirt. and katsuki knows you take two sugars in your coffee. knows you'll wait until the absolute last minute to head to campus for your 9:30 class. knows you'll take your notes in purple pen through your lecture because you claim the colour helps you remember the lesson.
but it's not just you who katsuki's learning things about these days.
for example, he's learning that maybe he's just not cut out for casual dating.
because every little thing he learns about you is starting to feel a lot like a string.
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sweet-honey-tears · 1 year
Text
✂️Long Hair 🤍
Characters: Hitoshi Shinso,Shoto Todoroki,Hawks,Eijirou Kirishima x Gender Neutral Reader
What happens when the boys grow out there hair? Hi everyone! Thank you so much for your support! As always feel free to leave a request!
Reader does know a lot about long hair.
🐈‍⬛Hitoshi Shinso🐈‍⬛
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Shinso didn’t realize how long his hair had grown till your fingers brushed away his bangs. He couldn’t look down anymore without his violet hair blocking his eyes. He had just ignored it, not making a big fuss over something so small. But the feeling of your fingers pulling back the strands into a knot made him freeze. Then when your hands moved away and the strands stayed put he looked up.
“That should help a bit shin”
You hummed, leaning down to his hair before moving back to whatever task you had been doing before.
Shinso found himself reaching for his phone, switching to the camera, and looking at his reflection. His bangs were pulled back, and his hair reached around his shoulders. Shorter strands fell back in their place from the messy bun you made. His tired eyes peered back at his reflection, he looked so similar to him now.
You must have noticed him spacing out since you spoke out.
“It looks really nice, Shin. You look good with it.”
“Hm”
The following week the two of you had Eri over, a tradition the two of them kept. When Shinso entered the apartment after patrol, his eyes landed on his teenage sister and you. Eri was sitting at the counter, she was still dressed in her UA uniform. Her red eyes glanced at him, taking in the new hair. He watched her smile grow before she quietly spoke,
“You look like dad.”
🧊Shoto Todoroki🔥
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Shoto had originally wanted to grow his hair out a bit since he wasn't really allowed to when he was growing up. But he didn’t intend for it to get so long though. It now went past his shoulders in red and white strands. Laying flat against his well-toned back. When Bakugou yelled out,
“Hey Repunizal, to your left!” He had realized just how long it had gotten.
He debated cutting it, watching himself in the mirror as his finger combed through his hair.
“Oh Sho, your home!” You had chirped, breaking him from his trance.
“Yes, I got home a bit ago but I didn’t want to wake you up.” He smiled, his arms opening to receive your hug. Yet he caught his gaze in the mirror over your shoulder. He stiffened a bit. Endeavor only ever let Fuma grow out her hair past shoulder length.
“Sho, what’s wrong?”
You questioned, brushing away his hair slightly from his eyes.
“My hair. Do you think it’s too long?” He asked, his gaze on you as you looked up at him.
“Oh, I guess it has gotten a bit long, huh?” You spoke, your fingers combing out a long strand of red. “But I like it, it looks really pretty on you Sho.” You said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. His face had turned pink. His ears darkened to red.
So the long hair stayed, and he continued to grow it. If it wasn't for you teaching him about how to care for it, condition, brushing, washing, etc, it wouldn’t be as healthy as it was. But now he even found himself researching hair oils off and on.
“It’s so pretty Sho.”
Even the media took notice, they started to comment on it. They talked about how shiny it was, and how well taken care of it looked. And because you had taught him to braid it, the media loved it even more. Photos of him mid-turn, his duel-colored braid levitating above his shoulder, and his pale face appearing out from long ruby strains circled around news stations. He was beautiful.
Some of your and his top picks for his hair are:
A three-strand braid. One strand of pure white, one pure red, and the third was a mix of both.
A messy bun: where his hair hangs in swooping strands. You can’t help but kiss him every time you see him like that.
High pointy tale. Looks like cascading water the way it falls and shines.
The names Bakugou gave him apparently stuck too.
At one meet and greet, his long hair was in a braid on his shoulder. No one had said anything about it till a very shy little girl holding a Repunizal doll went up to him. She was dressed as a Disney princess which wasn’t too uncommon. Sometimes hero meet and greets would also be mixed with some Disney characters. It allowed kids more options. But usually, the event didn’t mix much
“You’re like Repunizal”
She had spoken so lightly that Shotos barely caught it. But he caught your gaze, the soft look in your eyes. You were his Prince Charming in a way, his savior.
“Well, she is my favorite princess.”
The little girl got two pictures with Shoto, one of both of them next to each other and one where Shoto is holding her Repunizal doll. Her hand in his free one.
To say the least, Todoroki became the favorite hero among some little girls solely for his hair. Another event, had a little kid yell out.
“Do the magic!”
Your heart exploded the day the two of you went on a walk and these two kids came up to you both. “Can we please put these in your hair!?” They almost shouted. Their small hands holding clip-on flowers and real ones, their eyes full of stars. You had squeezed Shotos hand so tight he almost thought you were trying to break it.
To say the least, Shoto gained two more supporters that day and many clip-on flowers. You have a picture of him with flowers weaved into his now somewhat messy braid with two little kids by his side with the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen.
🪶HAWKS🪶
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Hawks had started to grow his hair longer a year into your marriage, specifically, it was after the incident that happened. And marriage or not, the two of you still acted like teenagers who just fell in love. The two of you were always next to each other when you could be. Keigo did try to keep you away from the camera and lights, but things slip through. A blurry photo of your figure standing at one of the windows of the house once appeared. That freaked you out and angered him. The photo became too gossip. People trying to unblur your face, heading reading “Gold-Digger Rising?” Or “Fans have a new villain .” Yeah, that pissed him off. Keigo ended up investing in good blinds (since he couldn’t move at that moment) and made a public statement about the incident. Asking his fans and news outlets to respect your wishes. It caused some fans to actually argue against him. Stating “Well if they don’t want to get pictures of them taken, then maybe they shouldn’t have married a Pro Hero!” “Yeah, they were asking for it!”
“Are telling me my spouse was asking to be harassed by people?” It was quiet, and your bit your lip as you watched your husband through the screen. Your knee bounced up in down, the commission was going to be pissed at Keigo. The thought caused your heart to ache. He’s gonna get in trouble because of you.
“There is a reason they hide their identity, it’s because of incidents like this.” The crowd seemed to stop arguing after that.
When Keigo came home, landing on the balcony, he looked tired. With his phone in hand, you could hear a woman and two men screeching at him. You caught something about ‘Irresponsible’ and ‘if they were gonna be such a problem!’ before Keigo set it on the counter and walked over to you. The sounds of anger still rang in the room, he couldn’t hang up-less they get more pissed. His wings wrapped around you both. His arms snug around your waist, pulling you incredibly close. His lip rested on your forehead as he murmured, “I found a nice place on the opposite side of town.” He paused, waiting if you had any protest, but you hummed and wrapped your arms around him. His body relaxed slightly, the muscle in his back flexing more as his wings drew closer. “We’ll get some private movers so no one will know and I have some friends who will buy the flat with no publicity.”
It took about three months to fully settle, and thankfully the public didn’t know. One day their favorite hero was there, and the next, not. It apparently made some fans realize their intense…’ fanning’ may have gone too far. Some even spoke out about how they were the ones that drove their favorite pro hero away from his home.
In those three tense months, Keigo forgot to cut his hair. It was longer, some parts reached around his shoulders or past. He could put it in a ponytail now. But all thoughts of cutting it disappeared soon after. You both had been laying on the bed, having finally finished putting away every last box. (Hero work slows down the progress) You had been laying down on him, your back against his pelvis and head tilted upwards. Your hands reached up, fingers clumsy curved around his jaw at the messy angle. “You’re so handsome Keigo” you sighed. Your eyes suck on his gorgeous face that was framed with his honey hair. You ended up sitting up, and Keigo stayed still to allow you to move around him. Your knees went on either side of his strong legs as you faced him. Your fingers curled and played with the hair that hung around his face. “You look good with long hair,” Keigo smirked, his arms going around your waist to pull you flat against him, which almost caused you to fall over him.
“I’m glad to hear you like it chickadee.” He smiled, his hand going up to your back.
“I like it a lot” you rasped out, your lips pressing against him. To your surprise, you both lose balance, causing you both to fall back on the bed.
🪨Eijiro Kirishima🪨
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Kirishima has been more focused on maintaining his hair color than the length. His hair was already long, so he didn’t think much of it going to his shoulders… then past. He was still able to spike it! So what did it matter? That was until it became too long to spike. The points starting to fall mid-patrol. If Sero hadn’t offered him a hair tie, he would have been pushing hair out of his eyes. He didn’t think about it that night, getting distracted by you, but this morning it hit him. Kirishima stood in the mirror, his hero uniform on, mask included, and stared at his face. How his hair lay limp at his shoulders and beyond. He could feel that sick feeling clawing up his gut, self-consciousness was creeping in. Did this look manly? Did he look weak like this? Did he even look good like this- would you like him like this? He self-deprecated himself mentally, wishing he got a haircut after patrol.
You passed by the bathroom, on your way to make breakfast. You were still in PJs, mid-yawn with messy hair.
“Hey uh pebble, can I ask you something.”
You paused and entered the doorway. Your body was still heavy with sleep as you walked behind your long-term boyfriend. Your arms wrapped around the back of his, your face smushed into his strong arm.
“What poppin Rocky?” You smiled lazily, your eyes meeting Kirishkmas in the mirror , you were still hazy with sleepy, and Kirishima could tell. It made him smile, watching you slowly open your eyes again. That was until he caught yours then his eyes. His hair.
“Pebble… do you think my hair looks too long?”
The tones snapped you awake. It brought your mind forward. Kiri was feeling self-conscious. No.
“Oh, I guess it has gotten a bit long.” You hummed, moving to the front of him. You stared at him, as if thinking about your responses, even though you already knew it. “But I like it, it’s nice.”
Kirishima was quiet for a moment, catching his reflection again. You watched his face fall.
“Are you sure?”
Kirishima asked, your heart lurched. You grabbed his hand.
“Rocky, you look good in everything. You look strong and scary with your hair spiked up, and you look strong and beautiful with it down. You look amazing either way.”
You smiled softly. Your fingers then trailed to his face mask, taking it off. “Plus, I like the un-spiked look. It makes it easier to play with your hair.” You hummed, finger running through a strand before your eyes caught his ruby ones. They were soft, a form of a thank you. You pecked his lips, “I’ll go make us some eggs”
“Wait pebble, my mask!” He caught your mysterious grin in the mirror before you turned the corner sharply. Kirishima could hear the sound of your feet hitting the floor as you run. He smiled brightly, you always brought him out of his mind. “I’m coming for you peddle!”
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cupofmiko · 11 months
Text
LOVELY TO BE HERE (WITH YOU) - midoriya izuku x f!reader 
with midoriya izuku, some things have always been easy. other things, however, have not.
genre: a strangers to lovers to exes to lovers au, pro hero au | angst, fluff
warnings: aged up characters (you and Izuku go through your 20s during this fic), a right person wrong time fic, hurt/comfort, happy ending, Izuku is taller than you, insecurity, talks of a boss/employee relationship (nothing happens during that time), making out, some smut (fem!recieving oral, mating press, slight dom!Izuku?? some dumbification… not actually sure I’m just putting it in the warning just in case, use of “pretty girl” and “good girl”), mentions of an outside natural disaster, arguments, you and Izuku gets a little Mean during the argument, Bakugou and Kirishima are your Helpful Friends and Good Bosses, some recreational alcohol consumption at a party
word count: 22k 
a/n: vaguely inspired by that tiktok trend with the “ceilings” by lizzy mcalpine audio… if you know you know. this is so behind the trend lol it ended up so much longer than i thought it would be so a lot of this hasn’t been thoroughly read through i am sorry lol 
.
You are twenty-two years old when you get the email - an offer letter that confirms your acceptance for an entry level office assistant position at Deku’s agency. And for someone like you who is in the final year of university and has been looking for a job to get a head start on your career, this is a very exciting opportunity. 
Not only is it a foot in the door for the hero industry, a very popular and competitive industry for any young college student, but it is with Deku. The hero from UA, the one who has been destined for the top since he was a teenager. 
According to the hiring manager, Deku is officially returning back to Japan after spending his first few years post-UA abroad in different countries. Different contract work with hero agencies worldwide. But now, with several years of experience under his belt, Deku has decided to return back home and start up his own agency. 
It’s intended to start as a small agency, the hiring manager had explained to you, a small but multi-talented team who can take on different responsibilities. And you, young and enthusiastic, played up your retail experience and the tutoring jobs you took on during those earlier college years. 
Clearly, you talked yourself up well because now you stand in front of Deku’s agency - a moderately sized building whose simplicity is reflected in the warm earth tones inside. Something in your gut tells you that this is the first page of a brand new chapter. 
The beginning of your first day is slow and typical of any first day experience. You remeet the hiring manager who introduces you to your boss and your responsibilities, which will mainly involve managing the front desk and answering the phone and making appointments for Deku. It is a little overwhelming, but you mask that incoming anxiety with a determination to do well. 
Your afternoon is spent filling out information for email accounts, taxes, and pay. The phone rings a few times, and your boss lets you know what to do based on the different phone calls. For a top hero agency, it’s surprisingly normal. 
So normal, that you almost forget who you’re working for until he walks through the front door of the agency. 
You look up and immediately feel your breath catch in your throat because holy fuck, it’s Deku walking towards you. It’s very strange to see the boy you’ve only watched through a laptop screen stand opposite of you. He’s much taller than you thought. His suit is more detailed, his hair more fluffy, his muscles more defined in person. It’s strange, seeing someone the same age as you hold so much power and confidence in a single stance. But his gaze is open, kind, and curious when he looks at you. 
“Hi there!” he greets cheerfully, approaching your desk. “You must be the new office assistant! I heard you were starting today - welcome!! It’s nice to meet you!! Are you adjusting well?” 
You blink, feeling like your brain is lagging behind to process the fact that pro hero Deku is even talking to you. Then, you realize that he has asked you a question. You close your mouth (one that you hadn’t even realized you opened) and try to string together a sentence. “O-oh, thank you! And I’m doing well… thank you, Deku.” You test out the hero name. It sounds so strange saying it out loud. 
Deku laughs, a shy almost unexpected sound that makes something flutter in your chest. “I’m glad to hear that! And call me Midoriya. I’m glad to have you on the team!” His eyes flicker down, taking in the new lanyard you’ve received - it was part of your welcome package that is meant to hold your employee ID. “I can see you’ve already decorated your lanyard! I like your pin.”
Now you’re surprised for a multitude of reasons. Not only did he speak words to you, he’s actually continuing that conversation by noticing something you never expected a boss to notice. And he’s being sweet, warm, and welcoming. 
You look down at your lanyard, bewildered as if you’ve never been a lanyard before, and see the pin you’ve haphazardly attached to the fabric. Glimmering on the metal is a character from your favorite movie - Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle. “Oh, t-thank you!” you manage, feeling warm, partly with embarrassment of having to explain a private interest, and partly because Deku actually looks genuinely curious in what you’re talking about. “He’s from this movie I really like. Howl’s Moving Castle?” 
Deku ponders for a second. “Oh! Studio Ghibli right? I’ve never seen that one, but my friends introduced me to Spirited Away and I really enjoyed that one!” 
“That’s a good one too,” you reply, losing enough nerves to actually feel your lips curve up into a small smile. Deku traces the movement quickly with his eyes. “That one and Howl’s Moving Castle are probably some of my favorites.” 
He nods approvingly. “I’ll have to ask my friend to show that one to me someday.” He gets distracted momentarily by his phone, picking it up and frowning. “Ah, sorry, I have a meeting to get to,” he explains, putting the phone back down. “But it was really nice meeting you.” 
Your smile grows a little, your head bowing a little to see him off. “It was nice meeting you too. Midoriya.” 
He mirrors your smile, likely proud that you’re calling him Midoriya, before he walks towards the main office floor. 
The phone rings before your gaze can linger for too long. 
A full month goes by before you accept it. You have a crush on pro hero Deku. 
To be fair, it’s hard not to have a crush on Midoriya. He’s just so open and sweet, thoughtful and considerate - a little shy, but reassuring enough to make you feel safe with just one smile. 
Honestly? It’s a little infuriating. After all, Midoriya is… well, he’s pro hero Deku!! He’ll help old grandmothers cross the street and save a truck from falling off a bridge and then tackle a villain the size of a building all within the same day. He carries so much greatness, so much power, yet so many expectations on just one pair of shoulders. You see it on the news, in the meetings you have to schedule for him. Everyone wants a piece of him. 
It’s harder now since he’s just starting up as a pro hero in Japan. There are things he must do, cases he must solve, and people he needs to save in order to climb that ladder and establish himself. 
But still, despite himself, he stops by your desk every day. Either at the beginning of your shift or towards the end. He’s always had a busy day - you can tell as much because you help manage some of his appointments. Yet he never shows his exhaustion. He comes by, same bright smile, always asking about your day and chipping away at your apprehension. 
It gets to the point where you’re comfortable enough finally sharing some interests with Deku rather than brush it off every time he tries to ask. You talk about the movies you like, the music you listen to, the dinner you cooked last night. Deku (Midoriya, you remind yourself time and time again) is always attentive. 
So, again, how could you not have a crush on Midoriya? 
And, to be fair, he doesn’t do much to quell that crush or fan the growing flames of affection you have for him. When he finds out that you really like that boba place thirty minutes away from the office, he starts bringing you a cup once a week. You try not to overthink the fact that he knows your exact boba order- down to the percentage of sugar you prefer. Or when he finds out you really like that Thai restaurant around the corner and starts bringing you your favorite when he knows you forgot to pack a lunch. 
It’s sweet. Midoriya is sweet, dangerously so. Considering you often only see him drop off food and drinks for you, it makes you wonder if… perhaps, he feels the same way. 
But a small, reasonable voice in your mind reminds you of a very important consideration: Deku was your boss. More than that, he was your boss’ boss. The big boss, if you will. There’s no way he could feel the same way, just from a moral standpoint. And even if you weren’t overthinking anything - a boss dating his employee? The scandals just write themselves. 
It’s another two months before you learn to leave your feelings on the backburner and write it off as nothing more than a puppy dog crush. Lots of people probably have a crush on Midoriya, you think bitterly, it doesn’t make you special and it definitely doesn’t warrant a crush back. 
Besides, you continue to think, Midoriya could have anyone he wanted in the country. In the world. There’s no way he’d settle with a measly secretary. He’s just doing these things because he’s a genuinely nice person - and it’s just convenient for him to make sure you’re eating proper meals and drinking proper (as proper as boba can be you suppose) drinks. 
It is officially four months that you’ve been working for Deku’s agency when you stay late for the first time. You’ve started taking on more responsibilities that take the form of helping organize paperwork and writing up data analytical reports for Deku and his small group of sidekicks. 
On the one hand, more work is great because it means your boss trusts you enough to handle important tasks. But on the other hand, it is stressful. Your perfectionist tendencies are not lost on you as you spend some extra time ensuring that a report is thoroughly. That means that by the time you are done, it is considerably later than your normal departure time. 
Your boss and other colleagues must have left during your autopilot drive to get everything done because the office is mostly empty by the time your brain catches up to the outside world. The exceptions are the janitor taking out the trash and the night shift sidekicks who are either getting ready for a nighttime patrol or are currently sitting at their desks. They say their goodbyes as you pack up to leave for the night, coat on and everything, before you head towards the building entrance. 
Only to find that it is pouring rain outside. 
You stop short, taking in the rain pittering and pattering onto the sidewalk and the roar of rainfall filling your ears. Normally, you don’t mind rain. But the fall is too heavy to walk through unscathed - a fate that looks inevitable for you considering you forgot your umbrella. 
You’re in the middle of wringing your hands together, debating whether or not you should just go for it, before you feel the agency doors open behind you. Then, a familiar voice calling your name. 
It’s Midoriya, looking bewildered at the sight of you. “What are you still doing here?” 
You blink back, equally as surprised. Last you had checked, Midoriya should have been long gone by now. “What are you doing here?” you quip back. 
“Well, I, uh, had to approve some of the reports my sidekicks wrote up before sending them to the police,” he explains, scratching at his hair. “But late nights are normal for me. I’ve never seen you work late before.” 
His inquisitive look leaves you warm with embarrassment. “I-I just wanted to make sure those data analytical reports were perfect before sending them for approval.” 
Midoriya ponders you for a moment, but he ends up smiling. “I appreciate you working so hard. I hope you’re planning to go home. Or at least planning to eat something.” 
You smile back sheepishly. “Guilty. I’m gonna go home- I have groceries that need to be cooked.” 
“Can I walk you to the station?” he offers, flashing his All Might umbrella towards you. 
You laugh. “Cute umbrella. And sure, that would be nice Midoriya.” 
He watches you for a moment. “Do you have an umbrella?”
“Oh!” you laugh again nervously. “No, I forgot mine at home. But it’s okay.”
Midoriya looks momentarily troubled at your predicament, but he smiles easily enough. “It’s okay! Here. We’ll share mine.” He opens up the umbrella and holds it over both of you. 
You still and immediately turn warm at the thought of sharing an umbrella with Midoriya. It seems too intimate of a situation to be in, all things considered. “O-Oh, don’t worry about me.” 
“How could I not?” he retorts, surprising you by wrapping an arm around your shoulder to bring you close. Though hesitate, your arms encircle his midriff. For the umbrella, you tell yourself, as you gaze up at Midoriya. He’s staring back down at you, gaze unreadable. 
A moment of doubt fills you. Was this too much? Self-conscious, you loosen your grip around him. But Midoriya tightens his hold, making you stop. 
“You okay?” he asks, voice soft. 
You manage to nod your head. Totally okay, more than okay. “Peachy,” you say, allowing him to lead you down the sidewalk towards the station. All the while, you do your best to ignore how romantic the gesture looks to people on the outside. 
You reach the station within a ten minute walk, all while bunched up together like any other normal couple. Midoriya insists on making sure you’re underneath a solid roof before removing the umbrella. Untangling yourself from Midoriya feels like the real world has resettled itself on your shoulders. 
So you take a breath, readjusting your backpack. “Thank you for walking me, boss.” 
He grins sheepishly. “No worries. I just have to make sure my employee gets home safe.” 
He’s trying to play along, but it feels a little like this cold wave of reality has just washed over you. You just try to manage with your best smile. “And some people have the nerve to say you’d be a terrifying boss.” 
Midoriya laughs. “You’re right. They should be saying I’m downright jolly.” 
That makes you laugh. “What are you, Santa Claus??” 
Another short round of laughter, before you pull yourself together enough to stop and look at him. He’s looking back at you, that crinkle of laughter in his eyes - which doesn’t mean anything. It means nothing at all. 
You look away first, fidgeting with the straps of your backpack. “I should go. Thanks again Midoriya.” 
You still don’t look at him as he replies. “You’re welcome,” he says. 
Without another word, you walk away. 
Your ten month anniversary at Deku’s agency is around Christmas time, where the nearby shopping districts get taken over by holiday lights and festive trees of red and green. The weather gets colder, the days get shorter, and the work gets harder. Especially when most of your assignments consist of summarizing the events of the year. There are a lot of days where you are just trying to gather information. 
It’s busy enough that you almost forget about the agency holiday party, scheduled just two days before Christmas. You only remember because your marketing specialist friend (Karly) volunteers you to help with decorations. 
For The Most Wonderful Time of Year, it is rather stressful to make orders for the tree, the wreaths, the lights, and the Santa’s that are scattered throughout the office. 
The day comes fast. Two days before Christmas, Deku’s agency is filled with laughter and chatter. Per the rules of the night, everyone is dawning their ugliest Christmas sweater and are currently partaking in the borderline alarming amount of alcohol that was brought. After all, the white elephant gifts have been exchanged, the toasts have been made - all that’s left to do is drink. 
You’re no exception, as you have now found your way outside onto the balcony with a cocktail in your hand and a warmth in your cheeks. Being outside is nice considering how hot your body feels right now. You close your eyes as a nice breeze brushes against you. 
That is how Midoriya finds you. “There you are!” he exclaims, closing the sliding door behind him as he steps forward to join you. “Been looking for you.” 
You turn around to face him, eyes wide. He was… looking for you? “What for? Did you need something?” 
He stops next to you. “No, no, nothing serious. I just wanted to say you did a good job with the party.” He grins, cheeks also a little rosy from drinking. “Everyone seems to be having a good time!” 
You smile. “I’m glad. I would never have thought planning a party would be so stressful. But a part of me is glad I got to be in charge of it.” You glance at him, feeling unusually bold. It must be the alcohol. “Otherwise I would never get to see the great Deku in his Christmas sweater.” 
True to your words, Midoriya is dawning an All Might Christmas sweater - the brightest shades of blue, yellow, and red that you’ve ever seen. It’s cute. Horrifyingly so. 
Midoriya does a little pose that makes you laugh. “I mean, you could have seen this anytime. You just needed to ask.” 
The remark makes you still because was he implying he wanted to discuss his interests with you? 
The internal struggle leaves you a little winded, unsure how to respond to such a statement. “Is… is that so?” you reply softly. “B-But,” you stammer awkwardly. “I’m sure there are other people you could discuss your All Might collection with?” 
Midoriya hums softly, resuming his position next to you against the balcony. “Like who?” 
You shrug, trying to play it off casually. “I don’t know. Your girlfriend?” 
He laughs gently at that. “Who is this girlfriend you speak of? She doesn’t exist here.” 
Despite his behavior, it is a little surprising hearing that Deku doesn’t have a girlfriend. Especially considering that he looks the way he does and has literally been called Japan’s Sweetheart on numerous occasions. 
You don’t feel too nervous at being called out like this. It definitely has to be because of the alcohol. “W-Well, I just figured. Someone who looks the way you do should have no problem finding someone.” 
“Your confidence in me might be misplaced,” Midoriya returns. He turns to you. “Would you believe me if I told you that I have relationship problems too?”
“You? Having problems with women?” you joke. “Enlighten me then.” 
He takes in a small breath. “Well,” he starts shyly. “Hypothetically, there’s someone that I’m interested in. Someone who I would think is smart, funny… and pretty.” There’s a weight in his words that settles heavily on your heart. “But… the problem, scientifically speaking, is that us being together would be inappropriate. I would never want this person to think I’m taking advantage of my position to manipulate them. And even if we were able to go out, I don’t want this person to be viewed negatively. I don’t want people to think she has been doing well or that she even got a job because of my personal feelings. After all…” he gaze drops to your lips for a moment. Your stomach clenches a little. “This person is a really hard worker. And I would never want to take that away from them.” 
You wet your lips. “That does sound like a predicament, Mr. Deku.” 
He smiles, albeit a little sadly. “I suppose…” he starts. “That if this situation was real, it could definitely be seen like that.” 
You nod. “Right. Hypotheticals.” You take in a breath. “I guess you and I aren’t so different.” 
He glances at you. “Relationship problems?” 
You shrug. “Hypothetically, I could have problems.” 
Midoriya laughs, playing along. “Right. Of course.” 
“Let’s just say,” you start slowly. The alcohol buzz is starting to wear off. But you’re already neck-deep into this interaction and it’s too late to back off. “There’s this guy. He makes me laugh, looks out for me, and has never made me feel insecure. He’s patient, smart, and thoughtful - someone that I really admire, and someone I like a lot. The problem, hypothetically, would be that there’s a gap between us. Not an age gap or anything crazy but more just… the kind of gap where us dating would make him look bad. And he’s a good guy, who doesn’t deserve that kind of speculation.”
You dare to spare a glance at Midoriya for the first time since you started talking. He’s looking at you like it’s his first time seeing you - eyes wide and lips parted. But there’s some uncertainty in his eyes. Like he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions on who you’re talking about. You understand that. After all, his own situation could describe anyone. 
But he turns towards you with eyes open and vulnerable. And you are rooted to your spot, helpless to do nothing but watch him watch you. You watch as he steps closer, feel as he reaches out to grab at the bottom hem of your Christmas sweater and thumbs at the material. As if he is giving you permission to turn away. 
When you don’t, his fingers snake upwards to touch your hips. “It seems,” he breathes out softly. “We’re both a little stupid, aren’t we?” 
You exhale as his hands settle. You feel warm with something decidedly non-alcoholic. “So stupid…” You want to just close your eyes, lose yourself in Midoriya as you’ve wanted to do for the past few months. 
But. 
Your hands find him, your fingers curling around his wrist. It takes a lot of (obvious) effort to pull him away. “Wait,” you whisper. “W-We just talked about how this isn’t right. And I don’t want you getting in trouble for this.”
His eyes search yours, but he squeezes your waist once before relinquishing the grip. “You’re right,” he returns, smiling a little. “There’s a lot of alcohol at this party. Makes me do things I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.” 
You shake your head. “You don’t need to say sorry. Only if you don’t mean it and you don’t really like me.” 
His eyes have not left your face. “I do mean it. I do like you, a lot. I’m just sorry that it has to be like this. If things were different…” 
“I know,” you whisper. “But I… care about you. And I don’t want people to think you’re the kind of guy who’ll date an employee. Especially since you’re back and trying to establish yourself as a pro-hero here.” 
Midoriya laughs, but it’s not meant to be a humorous noise. He reaches out, thumbing your cheek one last time as if to commit the gesture to memory before he pulls away. “I don’t want us to pretend like this conversation never happened, but I hope that we can still be… friends.” 
Despite the unexpected turn of events (at a Christmas party of all places), you warm slightly at all how well he’s taking it. Not that you expected him to take it badly. And that, above all, he considers you a friend. “Of course,” you reply. “That’s what I want too.” 
The pair of you stare for another long moment before someone is sliding open the glass door of the agency that leads to the balcony. It’s Karly, calling out your name. 
You and Izuku look away, the moment gone. “I’m out here, Karly.” 
Said marketing specialist appears from the shadows, cheeks bright red from rose much like everyone else. But she stops short when she notices the two of you. “Oh! I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” 
“No,” Midoriya cuts in quickly. He’s not looking at either of you. “We’ve finished our discussion.” 
Deciding to leave him alone, you nod towards Karly. “Well, some people are asking about the cake…” 
“Oh!” you exclaim. “That’s right. I know where it is.” You turn towards Deku. “Will you be okay?” 
You mean it in two different ways. Deku looks at you like he knows what you mean. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” 
You make your way back into the party, refusing to think about what happens next. 
.
What happens is a quiet next few months. Midoriya becomes busy with joint patrols, an onslaught of photoshoots, and general paperwork. He still comes by your desk when he happens to be around when you are around, but the interactions are safe and surface level. It is a warped version of what you and Midoriya would call friendly conversations. 
While you miss the deeper conversations, you’re also guilty of not bringing up anything that could bring you back to that night. The fear of uncertainty gnaws at you, afraid of what could happen if you were to cross that threshold with Midoriya. 
Like you, Midoriya is also good at maintaining that friendly facade. He thanks you for your hard work on your one-year anniversary, allowing your boss to take you out for dinner. He signs a company congratulations card when you graduate from university and officially become a working adult.
And you’re thankful that he’s willing to… move on, you suppose? Perhaps avoid is a better word. It’s hard to smile and laugh with Midoriya when you’ve spent the better part of your employment at Deku’s agency wanting more. 
Despite those things, that isn’t the reason why you’re here now. “Here” being the corner coffee shop on a random Saturday, laptop open with a whole listing of hiring hero agencies displayed. Some of the reason is that awkward limbo with Deku, yes, but most of it has to do with the desire for a full-time job. Working part-time at Deku’s agency had been more of a necessity than a want, considering you had to work around a full-time student schedule. 
But with graduation under your belt, full-time has become an option. While the hiring manager at the agency has been open to the conversation of offering you that full-time position, this feels like a rare moment of opportunity to branch out. 
Besides, you think absently, there are a lot of good agencies hiring. 
Quietly, you apply to a few of them, wondering if your experience at Deku’s agency and all the hats you had to wear as a result of working at essentially an agency start-up could impress some of these bigger agencies. 
As it turns out, it does. Because over the next month, you garner the attention of Riot Ground. Again, quietly, you interview a few times before they offer you a position - one that will include working at a cubicle rather than a front desk and definitely involves a higher level of responsibility with a higher pay that you would be dumb to reject. 
Your direct boss is supportive of the decision, understanding that this type of industry exploration is what you want for the next chapter of your career. It’s a chance, she says, you need to take. Additionally, she accepts your two week notice. 
Telling Midoriya had been something you’ve wanted to avoid since Riot Ground offered you the position. In fact, it’s very possible that he already knows what is going on. It’s no secret that the Riot Ground agency and Deku agency are close - the leading heroes have known each other since high school. 
But you decide to just assume that Midoriya doesn’t know what’s going on as you knock on Deku’s office door, taking in a breath when he tells you to come in. He’s finishing up some paperwork as you open the door, definitely looking appalled by your appearance. You hardly ever visit him, especially not since the Christmas party. 
“Hey,” he breathes, closing his laptop. “Is everything okay?” 
You smile a little, trying to stay professional. “Yes! Everything is good. I just thought I should let you know something that’s coming up.” 
He frowns, but nods slowly. “Okay,” he says, a little confused. “What’s up?” 
“Well,” you start. “As you know, since I graduated I’ve been thinking about getting into a full-time position. I don’t know any kind of end goal for myself, but I want the opportunity to grow my experience however. And wherever. So… I just thought that I should let you know that Riot Ground offered me a position. And I accepted. I start in a month, but I already submitted my two weeks.” 
Midoriya is quiet for a moment, processing the ultimate conclusion to your words. Then, he laughs a little. Softly. “Kacchan… I mean, Bakugou told me that they had just hired someone from my agency. When he spoke about the new hire’s interview, I could tell he was impressed and excited to have that kind of person on his team. I just had a feeling that it was you.” He stands up, rounding the desk to lean against the front. “I’m really happy for you.” 
You smile, relieved. Although you should have known to expect nothing less from Deku. “Thank you, Midoriya.” 
But he does smile back, sighing a little. “I will say that I’m going to miss having you around. Getting to talk to you and see you at the end of a hard day always made things easier for me.” 
Your heart picks up a little. You hadn’t expected him to use that kind of line on you. “I-I mean,” you stammer. “It’s not like I’m going off the grid. The agency is just a subway ride away. A-And, I’m still going to be in the industry. So we’ll see each other around at events and such… Besides, we’re friends.” 
Friends. A delicate word to reflect on a delicate subject. And it shows in Midoriya’s eyes, watching you carefully. His eyes look you up and down, before he gives a half-smile. It looks like he has so much to say. But he eventually settles with, “Of course. We are friends.” 
A long pause follows. The pair of you take each other in, until the sound of footsteps pass by Deku’s office and it brings you back to reality. You look away first. “I just… I thought I would let you know. As a courtesy.” 
He nods. “I-I appreciate that. And I really am happy for you. Kacchan and Kirishima are good heroes, and they are good bosses too. I expect great things will happen with you on board.” 
You laugh. “Midoriya, you are speaking way too highly of me. It’s just an entry level position, The amount of influence I’ll have is probably second to none.” 
He shrugs. “So what? I believe in my friends - and I believe in you.” After a moment he clears his throat. “When is your last day?” 
“About a week and a half from now,” you reply. 
He nods slowly. “Got it. Well, thanks for letting me know.” 
You leave work that night a little unsettled, wondering if you’ve made the right decision in telling Midoriya. 
The last week and a half of your employment at Deku’s agency is quiet. Midoriya gets pulled into a job on the other side of the country, meaning he doesn’t get to see you on your last day. You tell yourself that it’s normal that a big boss wouldn’t mind one of his part-time interns leaving and try to make peace with it. 
Midoriya is right about Bakugou and Kirishima. Despite being a little rough around the edges, Bakugou is polite and engaging. Naturally, Kirishima is warm and welcoming. Ground Zero is definitely a bigger agency compared to Deku’s up and coming roots - but the two heroes still take the time to greet you. 
It isn’t long before you’re taking on your own assignments - but your team is nice and supportive and Kirishima even tells you that the recent report you handed in was good. 
Two weeks after you start working at Riot Ground, Bakugou’s Vogue Japan article gets released and you are immediately pulled last minute into the afterparty preparations that Riot Ground is holding to celebrate. You’re more of a background shadow to provide support, but you are still invited to the party. Kirishima says you can think of your attendance as a rite of passage for your employment - one that you intend to take full advantage of. 
The afterparty is hosted at the top floor of this insane skyscraper in the city center - surrounded by lights and music and drinking. You spend most of the early night with coworkers, those in the same department as you as you all talk and laugh and make sure that things are going smoothly. 
This sense of ease is probably how you’re able to notice him before he notices you. 
Your stomach drops when you see Midoriya, someone who you hadn’t seen since that last conversation in his office. He’s at the bar, talking to some girl with a surprising amount of engagement and focus that you stare. 
You cannot help the sickly feeling weighing at the pit of your stomach - because you cannot remember the last time Midoriya talked to you like that. Actually, you can. It was before the Christmas party. Before you engaged in that game of hypotheticals with him. You’ve never regretted the way the exchange went down. But you have regretted the aftermath - the halted conversations, the surface level charades. Midoriya had said he liked you back, sure, but perhaps he only did nice things for you because he wanted something? And surely once he realized he was never going to get anywhere with you - he just gave up, didn’t he? 
That’s stupid, you think to yourself, because Midoriya isn’t like that. He’s sweet and earnest. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to just throw them aside when they are no longer of use. 
But, the other side of you whispers, things haven’t been the same since that night at the Christmas party. Perhaps it’s not out of left field for you to be doubtful. 
Across the way, Midoriya catches your eye and gives you a smile. You wave back half-heartedly. 
He tilts his head, giving you a look you hate that you can read. Is everything okay? 
You just give a shrug, turning back to your coworker before he could respond. 
You assume it’s the end of that conversation with Midoriya. In fact, the next time you (subconsciously) try looking for him, he isn’t at the bar anymore but on the dance floor with Uravity and Shouto. You disappear into an empty hallway that leads to the elevators, sipping the drink (water) you’ve gotten and try to ignore that vague feeling of relief upon realizing that girl was nowhere to be seen. 
You turn back to your water, perhaps waiting for it to drown you or give you answers to questions you are too afraid to ask. 
That is, until a figure slides up next to you. At first, you think it’s some stranger coming up to bother you. But it’s Midoriya. 
“You look lonely,” he comments. Despite the loud music coming from the main room just a few feet down, the hallway is insulated enough where you can hear him properly. 
You glance at him. “What do you mean? I’m peachy-keen.” 
He frowns, the first crack in his wall. “You know, people who say they are peachy-keen are usually the opposite of that. I just can’t help but notice that you’re here by yourself, and you’re drinking water.” 
“I’m on the clock,” you reply. 
Midoriya looks around for a moment, before turning to face you fully. “Is everything okay? Nobody’s bothering you, are they?” 
You look at him this time. “It’s fine, Midoriya.” You jerk your head out towards the main room. “Why don’t you go reunite with your girlfriend or something?” 
Midoriya blinks. “Girlfriend? What are you talking about?” 
Your eyes narrow into a glare. “Don’t try to play dumb with me, Deku. I know that you saw me looking. She’s cute. Thanks for letting me know about that, by the way.” 
“Oh, just like you told me that you were looking for a new job?” Deku bites back. Another crack in his game of pretend. He also seems annoyed you’ve addressed him by his hero name. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s Uraraka’s manager and has been her manager since we graduated high school. We’re friends - just like I thought you and me were friends.” 
You push yourself off the wall at that. “We are friends,” you protest hotly, defensive, not even sure if you believe your own words. “It’s just…” 
“Just what?” Midoriya snaps, that friendly facade gone now. “Just the fact that I thought things would go back to normal after that night, only to get blindsided?” He runs a hand through his curls. “Listen, I was and am really happy for you that you got a great job with Kacchan and Eijiro. I just wish you told me you were planning to leave. That’s what friends do.” 
“Well, why does it matter?” you retort. “A boss shouldn’t care too much if a lowly part-time intern decides to pursue a different agency for a different opportunity - !” 
“But you weren’t just a lowly part-time intern!” he says loudly, then lowers his voice. His admittance echoes in your mind, making you run warm. Midoriya watches you carefully, as if waiting for you to dismiss him. When you don’t, he takes a step closer, rounding on you so that your back is against the hallway wall. “To me, it wasn’t like that. At first, it was. But I grew to really like you as more than just someone I saw at work everyday. I liked you a lot.”
You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down, remembering your doubts just a few moments prior. “Why does that matter now anyways? You clearly have more fun with that manager anyways.” 
He groans, stepping closer, hands settling on your waist to push you against the wall. “What is this about? It seems like we’re mad about two separate things.” 
You huff, trying to look away from him. “I’m not mad.” 
He rolls his eyes. “Baby, your glare could cut glass. I can be single-minded sometimes. But I’m not stupid.” 
You hate to admit it. But the pet name softens you up a bit. Enough that you turn your gaze back to Midoriya. “I was just frustrated okay?” you shoot back. “I was under the impression that we would stay friends too. But you were so distant after I told you I was leaving. You didn’t even say goodbye to me on my last day at the agency. I know you were away but… it still hurt me. And then I come to this party and see you for the first time in a month talking to some other girl. Not just talking - talking excitedly and happily. I just couldn’t help but overthink about why you enjoyed your time with her more than time with me.” 
His eyes flicker between your eyes, but he relaxes after a moment. “I always enjoy my time with you,” he explains softly. “But I’m sorry. I should have spoken up when I noticed we were playing this game of just pretending to be alright. I think the thought of confrontation made me more nervous. And I’m sorry for not being there for your last day.” 
You sigh. Perhaps hearing his apology is just what you’ve needed after all this time. “No. I’m sorry. It takes two people to have a conversation, and I was also not reaching out to communicate my frustration. I guess… perhaps, a part of me wanted to know what would happen with us. And if…” you trail off.
Midoriya raises an eyebrow. “If…” he coaxes, leaning in. When you don’t say anything, he smiles. “If I still like you?” 
You pout. “You have no tact, do you know that?” 
“I think the proper phrase is ‘relief knowing I can now openly communicate with the girl I’ve been crazy about for months’.” He pauses. “Unless you’re more of a show don’t tell kind of person?”
He’s teasing you. “I don’t know,” you finally manage, feeling warm all over. “What would showing me look like?” 
At your question, Midoriya smiles again. Less of a teasing smile, more of a soft and understanding curve that makes your heart race. Your anger is completely forgotten as one of his hands gently takes your chin. “Probably something like this…” 
He leans in. You close your eyes, heart thumping out of your chest - because was this really going to happen? Right here? Right now? And to think you were so mad at him just an hour ago… 
A call of your name. “Oi, I know you’re out here - oh. Fuck.” 
Midoriya pulls away, his grip on your chin and your waist gone as if both of you are ripped back to reality. You jolt, eyes flashing open and turning towards the source of the noise. Bakugou stands at the entrance of the hallway, lips parted and eyes wide and looking uncharacteristically startled. 
“Kacchan!” Midoriya exclaims, glancing at you before glancing back at your boss. “We were just… This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing…” 
Bakugou tsks, recovering quickly as he raises a hand up to stop Deku from spiraling into a flurry of conversation and tangents. “I didn’t ask, nerd. I just need my employee’s help with something.” 
You try to recover as well, ignoring your racing heart as you turn towards Bakugou. “O-Of course, what do you need?” 
You step away from Midoriya, but he catches your wrist in his hand before you can go too far. 
“Hey,” he says, stepping up next to you, not speaking until you’re looking at him. “Don’t be a stranger. If I promise to call, promise you’ll pick up.” 
You cannot help but just smile and nod. “Okay,” you return. “I promise.” 
He beams, and releases the hold he has on your wrist. You walk up to Bakugou, allowing him to lead you back into the loud dancefloor. 
“Bakugou!” you call out, feeling the need to fill the silence between the two of you despite the music and laughter around you. “Midoriya is nice! And I really like him!” 
Bakugou grunts, whirling around to face you. “Shut up!” he retorts. “I know. The stupid nerd hasn’t shut the fuck up about you since he found out I hired you. So I don’t think you need to worry. He likes you a lot too.” He pauses. “Now can you please help Eijiro set up the champagne fountain?” 
You grin for more than just the champagne foundation. You shoot your boss a thumbs-up before making your way back into the main party, definitely feeling better than when you first stepped in here. 
True to his promise, Midoriya calls. And to your promise, you answer. It doesn’t take long for the pair of you to resume the same ease of connection that developed when you first met. Partly because you have all this history together, but also because the feelings have been put out there. The calls and texts continue without the worry of crossing past a boss/employee relationship. 
Having Midoriya in your life like this is different. There’s still a bridge to cross with him, but there’s a different openness about this compared to pretending not to be so into him. 
Now he knows how much you like him. And you’re waiting for him to take the next steps. 
But, again, it’s a line neither of you cross for the next few months. Midoriya is busy with work, and so are you. Ground Zero keeps you on your toes with increased responsibilities and solo projects that are stressful yet accomplishing. Yet, every “good job” thrown your way feels like a different badge of honor that heightens your confidence. It feels like some of the things you’ve wanted for your life (a stable career with responsibilities you enjoy doing and coworkers you actually like spending time with) are starting to come together. 
Although yes, you are in a predicament with Deku, you refuse to let that damper your attitude about your overall life trajectory. Things will happen when they are able to happen. 
It’s a thought that comforts you. For the next few months following the Riot Ground party, you maintain a limbo with Midoriya. Until there is a pounding on your door at three in the morning. 
You start awake at the noise echoing through your apartment, heart pounding and eyes suddenly alert. What time is it? The digital BT21 Koya clock on your nightstand reads 3:02 AM. Who is it? No idea. A handful of college students live in this apartment building, so it isn’t unusual to hear knocks at this hour. They’re usually short; this one is not. 
The persistence of it drags you out of bed and towards the door. Is it the smartest way to go about this situation? No. It could be a villain with super hearing, waiting for you to make a noise!! Or perhaps people pretending to be maintenance just so they can break in? 
God, you definitely need to stop scrolling through Tiktok. 
You sigh, tiptoeing to the peephole on your door. You’re expecting drunk college kids, or people you’re supposed to ignore. 
What you see, however, is neither of those things. It’s Deku, slumped against the wall, looking uncharacteristically tired and out-of-breath. Brows furrowing and eyes widening, you open the door with more force than necessary. “Midoriya!” you exclaim, lowering your voice towards the tail-end when you remember that it is three in the morning. “A-Are you okay? What happened?” 
Midoriya looks over at you. His face is bruised slightly and you don’t even want to know what kind of injuries he’s hiding underneath the suit. What happened? When he texted you earlier than evening, he looked and sounded perfectly fine. His eyes rake over you from head to toe, before he sighs. “Oh good. You’re okay.” 
You stare, trying to mentally decipher his words but find that you have no idea what he’s talking about. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” 
He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath before he pushes himself off the doorframe. Quietly, he leans into your space and slowly cups your face with his hands. Midoriya follows the curve of your face carefully, committing each detail to memory.
Clearly approaching the situation normally isn’t getting into his head. He’s too shaken by what he has seen. So you stare up at him, trying to catch his gaze. “Izuku…?” you try. 
That catches his attention. He shifts to look back at you. He sighs, pressing his forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s just…” 
“Do you want to come inside?” you offer gently. 
Midoriya nods, allowing you to pull him inside the apartment. You make it to the living room, where he drops himself unceremoniously onto your couch. Despite his disheveled appearance, he is watching you carefully and looking more alert than before. 
You look back at him, continuing to assess his condition. What happened to him? Did he need to see a doctor? You try to echo one of those thoughts. “Are you okay, Midoriya?” 
He blinks. “I liked it…” he starts. 
You move to sit on the couch. “You liked it?” 
“You called me Izuku,” he clarifies. “I want you to keep calling me that.” 
You sigh, eyes slanting into more of a frown than the wide-eyed concern from before. “Are you drunk?” 
He looks away, rubbing at his face. “No, I’m not.” 
“Well, do I have to drive you to the hospital?” 
“No, I’m fine.” 
“I’d have to disagree. A Midoriya… I mean Izuku,” you correct when Midoriya gives you a look. “An Izuku who is normal wouldn’t come barging in at three in the morning looking like he’s just seen hell.” 
He doesn’t say anything to that, which worries you more. Well, if he doesn’t want to go to the hospital and he’s not drunk, you turn to the next best solution. 
You move to get off of the couch. “Let me get you some water.” 
“Wait.” His hand catches your wrist. He’s not even pulling you that hard, but his touch leaves you rooted to the spot. “J-Just stay here, if that’s okay.” 
You settle back on the couch, trying to catch his eye. Yours widen slightly when you realize that his eyes are glassy. Was Midoriya crying? “Hey, Izuku…” you start, sitting closer to him. “What’s wrong?” 
He looks up for a moment, before looking back over at you. “Can I…” he trails off. “Can I just…” When you don’t flinch away, he takes that as a sign. He wraps his arms around your waist, scooping you up and plopping him on his lap with your knees on either side of him. Straddling him, you let him manhandle you. You let him press you to him, chest to chest, and a hand at the back of your head to press your face into his neck. He noses at your hairline slowly. 
“Izuku,” you whisper, voice muffled into his suit. “Tell me what happened.” 
Midoriya takes in one more deep breath, before he loosens his grip enough for you to pull back and see his face. “I was finishing up my patrol when a group of villains ambushed me. That part was normal, since it’s the middle of the night and maybe they thought they could get away with it? Everything was fine until I saw you. One of the villains used his quirk and made me see something that really shook me up.” 
Considering that he’s here, hugging you like he’s trying to merge with you, you think you have a vague idea of what he could have seen. But you refuse to be self-centered. You gently fiddle with the hair at the back of his neck. “What did you see?” 
He doesn’t look at you as his fingers run over the hem of your sleeping shirt. “You showed up, and they took you away. No matter how far I ran, I couldn’t catch up. I couldn’t save you. Luckily, some of my sidekicks showed up so they didn’t get away. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what they had shown me. I just had to make sure you were okay.” 
You exhale, not realizing you had held your breath during Midoriya’s story. At the very least, this explains his frantic behavior. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m here.” 
He sighs, moving his hands to your waist. “It’s not okay though,” he returns, looking at you. “I think not being able to talk things out with you has freaked me out, thinking that I’ll miss my chance and lose you.” 
“You won’t lose me,” you say quietly. “I really like you.” You relax slightly in his arms. “We don’t have to talk about us right now but I don’t want you to rush into anything with me. I know that you’re here to protect people and you’re trying to establish yourself. I don’t want to get in the way of that. I don’t want you to spread yourself too thin.” You look down, suddenly nervous. “When this becomes something, I’m going to be a little selfish. I don’t want to feel like I’m coming in second place. I want everything that you’ll give me, and I want to feel like you’re always going to choose me. I know that in itself is selfish, but I just want to be upfront with you.”
One of Midoriya’s hands comes up to cup your cheek. He angles himself to meet your gaze. “Don’t ever call yourself selfish like it’s a bad thing. I want you to be selfish because I always want you to myself.” He starts mindlessly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I want to be honest with you too. I can’t promise you that I can respond to texts within the hour. I can’t even promise that I’ll be on time for every date. But I’ll always consider you. And I’ll always choose to come back to you.” 
Overcome with helpless affection for him, you cannot help looking down at his lips. Suddenly, you’re aware of what you’re wearing and what you’re not wearing. Your sleeping attire is just a Riot Ground t-shirt you got from a team-building event during orientation and some loose shorts. Your lack of a bra is the most obvious. 
Judging from Midoriya’s darkened eyes, he knows this.
A pause. Then he brings you down to him, kissing you softly. Time seems to melt away as you shut your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in him. You can feel Midoriya’s grip tighten, pulling you closer as little uncontrollable whimpers fall from your lips.
Without warning, you feel yourself get hoisted up again. One hand around your waist, one hand hooked around a leg as you are maneuvered onto your back. Above you, Midoriya is steady and comforting and warm. He stares down at you like it is his first time seeing you. The sight sends jolts of anticipation through your body. 
On instinct, your arms find the back of his neck as he leans down to peck your lips once, twice, thrice more before starting a trail of butterfly kisses down your neck. He stops at the base, nipping and biting. It tickles, causing little giggles to escape you as you twitch occasionally at the overwhelming sensation. 
Midoriya hums, lifting himself back up. “So sensitive,” he mutters. 
You pout, tighten your grip on the back of his suit. “Is that okay?” 
He smiles, leaning back down to touch your nose with his. “More than okay. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Want to keep going?” 
You cannot help but smile back, heart beating helplessly in your chest. “Yes,” you whisper, nervous but knowing that you trust him more than anything. 
So Midoriya kisses you again, his hands move to your waist to inch your shirt up higher and higher. He kisses down your stomach, fingers gripping the waistband of your shorts. “Is this okay?” he asks softly. 
You nod, realizing after a moment that he cannot see you. “Yes, yes, please Izuku…” 
You stare up at the ceiling as he pulls your bottoms down, exposing you to the air outside. It doesn’t stay unoccupied for long before he’s diving in between your legs, licking and sucking at spots that make you see stars. 
And when he curls up with you later that night under the blankets, refusing to let you go as you giggle and complain about needing the restroom, your heart is high with hope. Hope that perhaps it’s finally time for you and Midoriya. That perhaps, the game is finally over. 
.
The following day, Midoriya shows up to the Riot Ground agency. He had left early that morning, leaving behind a text apologizing and promising to make it up to you later that day. You hadn’t been entirely sure what making it up to you would entail, but you just told him you were looking forward to it. 
It’s a little bit before your lunch break when Bakugou comes stalking towards your cubicle. You’re still on the phone with the guys at HEROES MAGAZINE when he approaches, but he’s surprisingly patient as he waits for the call to end. 
You hang up after a few more minutes of last minute confirmations. “Everything okay?” you ask, redirecting your attention to Bakugou. 
He grunts, crossing his hands over his chest. “You have a visitor. Real insistent about seeing you.” 
You tilt your head. “Who is it?” 
He sighs, unfolding his arms. “Come on.” 
Nervously, you follow Bakugou into his office. Inside, you find Midoriya sitting on the couch. He’s talking to Kirishimia, but all the attention shifts to you as soon as you enter. Midoriya’s face lights up. “Hey!” he greets cheerfully, standing up to approach you. 
You let him, unable to help but smile back as the memories of last night fill you with warmth. The fact that those events were real and tangible still baffles you. “Hi, Izuku…” 
He scratches the back of his neck. “I really am sorry about having to leave after… yeah. After that.” 
You laugh, forgetting that both of you have company. “It’s fine. I know you’re busy. You’re here. That’s what’s important to me.” 
Midoriya smiles, actually looking relieved at your reassurance. “I’m glad…” 
From what sounds like miles away, Bakugou interrupts with a laugh. “Oh my fucking god.” 
You turn to look at him. “Something wrong boss?”
Bakugou is still smirking. He looks between you and Midoriya like he knows something you do not. He, however, makes it clear with his observation. “You guys finally hooked up, didn’t you?”
Immediately, your heart feels like it’s racing on overdrive as your entire body runs hot. “H-How did you… I mean, it’s just… I don’t…” 
Midoriya’s cheeks turn pink. “Kacchan, we’re in a workplace - can’t you keep things professional?” 
“Professional?” Bakugou echoes, smirking. “You have a lot of nerve saying that to me, Deku. Especially when the two of you are all googly-eyed right in front of my salad!!!” 
“Oi, Katsuki,” Kirishima interrupts, getting up from the couch and walking over to slap a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder. “I think it’s cute. Go easy on them.” Kirishima shifts his attention to you and Midoriya. “So, what’s this? You guys just hooking up? Or boyfriend and girlfriend? No shame either way!! I think it’s great that we live in a society where every stage and every kind of relationship has an appropriate label.” 
The overall question makes you want the ground to swallow you whole. This is especially the case because you and Midoriya haven’t even discussed what this is yet. What if you answered and it wasn’t the answer Midoriya had in mind. Or would staying silent be the better option? Should you already know what kind of relationship you’re in with Midoriya? You know you talked things out yesterday but was making an assumption going too far?
Your silence makes Kirishima smile. “I mean, there’s also no shame in being undecided. As long as you guys are communicating.” 
Midoriya wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. “I’m actually here to invite you to dinner tonight,” he says, pointedly ignoring his friends and their teasing smiles. 
You smile nervously, unsure whether or not to go along with Midoriya. You decide for it eventually. “Sure. I get off around 5. Can I meet you someplace?”
He shakes his head, looking at you with stars in his eyes. “No, no, I’ll come pick you up.” 
True to his promise, Midoriya is in the lobby of Riot Ground. He gives you that same bright smile, takes your hand. The restaurant he’s selected for the two of you is a few stops away, and he fills any silence with questions about your day and conversations like this is any normal day. Not at all like you’re about to go on (what you would consider to be) a date with Midoriya. 
It’s a sentiment you feel confident enough to echo once the pair of you are seated next to each other in the booth. You notice quickly that he’s taken you to a ramen shop you’ve mentioned enjoying once or twice. The realization draws out a happy, private smile. 
At your observation of this date, he mirrors your grin. “I’m glad we’re on the same page about this. It makes me feel less nervous about telling you that… last night?” He asks like he needs to make sure you know what he’s referring to. Like you need a reminder. But you nod, because Midoriya seems nervous. “That was all real to me. I know dating me would be challenging. But I really like you and I want to be with you. I hope that doesn’t freak you out.” 
Detecting his nerves regarding the subject, you reach out to take his hand. “Izuku, it doesn’t freak me out. I also mean what I said yesterday. I really like you.” You feel yourself go warm with meekness. “Although, I thought it was obvious that I wouldn’t freak out no matter what you said. You did spend the night, amongst other things… I don’t do that with guys I don’t like.” 
Midoriya laughs softly. “I just didn’t want to make any assumptions.” 
You nod. “Well, cease your worries. I am thoroughly into you.” 
Since you’re not rejecting his advances, Midoriya grows bolder. “So… can I do this…?” He laces your fingers together. 
You smile. “Yes,” you whisper, looking over at him. 
He moves closer, still wearing that fond grin. “And when I drop by the agency, can I tell Kacchan that I’m visiting my girlfriend?” 
Your smile morphs into a grin, but there are butterflies in your stomach. “You should probably be a little more professional around your Kacchan.” 
He pouts at that. “What if it’s for something important?” 
You gap slightly, unconsciously inching closer to him. “What could be so important with you and your new girlfriend that you need to visit her workplace?” 
He smiles at the question, eyes flickering down to your mouth before he leans in to kiss you. It’s firm and quick, startling you enough to elicit a squeak from the back of your throat. But he pulls away before you can relish in the gesture. 
When you open your eyes, Midoriya is still looking at you. You can feel the weight of his answer in his stare, making one very firm decision: you were going to suck his dick on the car ride home. 
.
Nearly one year later, the hero rankings are announced on a bright sunny afternoon. 
You are in your now shared apartment when the broadcast starts. When Midoriya is announced as the new number one hero. It’s a big moment within the hero community; not entirely unexpected considering the anticipation of Deku’s return and what he has been able to accomplish since then. It’s a moment that garners big cheers as Midoriya takes the stage alongside the other top ten heroes. 
You watch as each top ten hero makes a speech about their appreciation and their promise to continue protecting the country. As Midoriya makes his own speech, your heart feels light with pride and joy. 
It’s a feeling that continues into the late afternoon, when you’re fitting the bed with newly washed sheets that you hear the front door open and slam shut. “Baby?” It’s Midoriya. “Baby, I’m home!!!” 
You immediately come bounding out of the bedroom, dashing towards the entrance where Midoriya is slipping off his shoes. “Welcome back!! Congratulations on your ranking, Izuku!” 
At once, he sweeps you up into a hug, bringing your feet off the floor and your laughter in his ear. “Thank you,” he whispers earnestly, setting you back on the floor. He kisses your cheeks, spoiling you as if you were the one who has just ranked as the number one hero in the country. “Did you watch the broadcast?” 
“Of course!” you say, giving him a look. “It’s a big deal, Izuku.” 
He pulls back enough to send you one of his soft smiles. “Thank you.” 
You shake your head, cupping his cheeks. “How do you want to celebrate, Mr. Number One?” 
“Well, Uraraka is hosting a party later today to celebrate the new rankings. But…” he trails off, turning meek. He leans forward, nose to nose. “Kind of want to eat you out. Is that okay?” 
Your stomach flutters. His hands move up your shirt, touching at bare skin. “W-We should do something for you.” 
“You letting me eat you out is the something for me,” Midoriya returns, removing his hands to start messing with your shorts. He pulls both shorts and panties down, lowering himself down to let you step out of them. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he traverses down the hall back into your shared bedroom. Gracefully, Midoriya lowers you amongst the pillows. 
One, two, three more kisses along your forehead, cheek and lips, before Midoriya makes his way down your body. Lifting your shirt over your head, planting two kisses on each nipple, down your stomach, immediately wrapping his arms around your legs to keep them apart. A kiss on your clit melts into a lick that makes you choke on a whimper. 
Midoriya has always been good at eating you out. Ever since that first night, he is keen on prodding at the spots that drive you to the edge the quickest, or dragging things out as long as he wants to. It’s that scary observational skills from his line of work getting put to personal use. 
And you’re not complaining. 
In the fifteen minutes he spends in between your legs, you come three times. You’re shaking, gasping, overwhelmed by the time he lifts his head up with his lips shiny with juice. 
You’re still trying to catch your breath as Midoriya undoes his belt, takes out his cock. He runs it over your slit once before pushing in past the ring of muscle. The sensation makes you jolt, crying out as you arch and push at his chest. “Izuku… wait.” Your walls flutter, causing Midoriya to sputter. “I just need to catch my breath.” 
You take a few deep breaths as Midoriya thumbs at your hip in apology. “Sorry baby, I should have asked first.” 
You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.” 
“You don’t need to apologize.” Midoriya leans down, kissing your ear and down your neck, nipping gently at your collarbone.The gesture, while ticklish, helps relax you enough to reflect on the events of the day. You’re not sure how long it is before you speak again. 
“Hey, so since you’re the number one hero now…” you start once you feel like your head has cleared up enough. “You’re probably going to be a whole lot busier. Lots more people are going to be looking at you and relying on you. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted…” 
Saying the words out loud makes a new kind of reality dawn on you. How would you fit in this equation of Midoriya’s newest accomplishment? 
“Hey.” Midoriya’s voice draws you back. His head lifts from your neck, locking you in an intense stare, hands planted on either side of you. “I don’t know what exactly is going on in that head of yours. Just because I’m the number one hero now doesn’t mean that I still don’t care about you. It doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly going to stop considering you. I’m number one to the country, but you’re number one to me and that’s what is important.” 
You pause, letting his words sink in. You giggle. “Izuku, that was super cheesy.” 
“And what of it?” he purrs, using your giggle as the okay to readjust you. He takes your ankles, repositioning them over his shoulders. He leans in, bringing your legs to your chest, sinking deeper into you. The sensation makes you whine, arching your back and curling your toes. 
“Mmmm,” you whimper, unable to do anything else but lay there and take it. 
“Do you understand now?” he asks, pulling out until the tip and thrusting back in. “Do you understand how much I love you?” 
As if it wasn’t hard enough answering his question, he’s hitting something in you that makes it difficult to think. “Fffuck, Izuku… yes…” 
“Then, you think you can say it back to me, pretty girl?” He straightens up, keeping one of your legs on his shoulder as he increases his pace. His grip on you is strong, while his other hand starts drawing tight circles on your clit. 
You start fluttering around his cock, unable to move away from the simulation. So you try to push at his chest in warning. “Izuku… wait…” 
“I don’t know if I can, baby,” he says, almost disappointedly. “I can’t let my girl walk around not knowing how much I care about her.” 
“I do know…” you whimper, shaking when he finds the right angle to rub your clit. “Aaaaaa… I know how much you love me.” 
You can hear the smile in his voice. “Good girl. Wanna say it back?” 
He releases your other leg so that both fall on either side of his waist. Midoriya looms over you again, never once letting up his pace. “Say…” you manage, tongue feeling like jello. “Say what back?” 
He hums. Still circling your clit, he runs his other hand up over your curves, palming your breast. “Say you love me back.” 
“I love you - !” you squeal as he pinches a nipple. The coil in your stomach snaps, and white hot pleasure runs through your body. You shudder, tightening and fluttering and gasping. You weakly whimper as Midoriya continues to drive into you, your breasts bouncing with the movement. It stops when he gives you one last firm thrust, letting out a groan of his own that is so hot your walls flutter at the noise. 
The high of what you’ve started together starts to die down as the silence is filled with your gasps and his panting. 
Midoriya drops himself next to you, immediately wrapping his arms around you and nosing your hairline. “Hey,” he whispers. 
“Hmmm?” you hum, content and still trying to catch your breath. 
He doesn’t speak until you look at him. He leans in, touching his nose to yours. “I love you too.” 
You try hard to bite back a grin. “Still want to go to Uraraka’s party?” you ask quietly. 
He groans against your neck. “Not really.” 
You giggle. “You should!” you scold. “It’ll be fun. You’re the number one hero now. Don’t you want to celebrate with your friends?” 
“I’d rather just celebrate with you,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
You roll your eyes playfully. “We just did. C’mon!” You push yourself off of bed, whirling around to face him. “I’m gonna pee. We’re going to shower, and then go.” 
Never able to say no to you, Midoriya sits up on the bed and climbs out after you. “Okay, okay, baby. We’ll go.” Without warning, he hooks his arms under your knee and under your back, lifting you up and carrying you to the shower - the sound of your giggles filling the air. 
The party is in full swing by the time you and Midoriya arrive at Uraraka’s house. Midoriya still has that post sex glow in his cheeks. It makes him clingy to you as you enter. The man at your side is immediately greeted by everyone, both friends and fans. It makes it easy for you to peel yourself away from your boyfriend, finding shelter in the living room. 
There, you find Bakugou at the couch, nursing a drink in his hands. 
Finding comfort in the sight of a familiar face, you approach him. “Bakugou! I didn’t think you’d show up.” 
He gives you a sideways glance. “I wasn’t,” he says. “Eijirou said I should, so people can see that I’m supportive of Deku taking over the number one spot. Like I give a shit what people think anyways.” 
You take a seat next to him. “I think you care a little bit. I know how much having that number one spot meant to you. Buuuutt,” you say, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “I think it could be seen as good, friendly competition. What do you think? Gonna start working double shifts to get your spot back?” you ask teasingly, grinning playfully at Bakugou. The latter is surprisingly quiet. 
Bakugou gives you a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I knew it was only a matter of time,” he gruffs. “I really do hope as his girlfriend, you’ll never have to see this. But Deku? That nerd is crazy. Back in high school, during the war, he became this self-sacrificing maniac and acted out on his own. It’s a version of him I haven’t seen since then, but it’s a trait that never really went away. Deku lives to give back,” he mutters, so quiet that you wonder if you’re meant to hear him or not. “That’s why people gravitate towards him. It’s hard to compete with someone who would so willingly trade his happiness for others without hesitation.” 
Bakugou’s eyes find something. You turn, following his stare to see Midoriya chatting it up with other pro-heroes. The latter looks bashful, but proud - he blends right into this world you are only just now starting to adjust to. 
I hope you’ll never have to see it.
You watch as Midoriya’s gaze finds yours, waving when he smiles at you, trying not to ponder too deeply into Bakugou’s words.
.
Despite your wishes, you spend some time thinking about Bakugou’s observation. It’s true. Midoriya is a giver. He gives and gives and gives, hardly ever taking anything in return. He rarely asks to take time off, asks you to take care of him, and rarely ever thinks about himself. 
A year after Midoriya becomes the number one hero, you start to see what Bakugou had meant. 
It starts small. So subtle that you don’t even notice it at the time. It happens on a random Thursday night, when Midoriya stops kissing you hello after coming back from the office. It’s something you don’t even notice at the time. You had just continued cooking dinner, oblivious to what that simple missing gesture would spiral into. 
Then, he misses a lunch date. Texts about his whereabouts and any villain appearances on the news are non-existent, until you find out that he just got caught up on paperwork and simply lost track of time. He apologizes later that evening, promising to make it up to you. And he does. He brought flowers home the next day and took you out to dinner. So you forget about the incident, assuming that it was a one-time thing. 
Only, it isn’t just a one-time thing. He misses a few more dates, and doesn’t even tell you he’s coming home late one evening, before you decide it’s time to prod. Gently though, because you aren’t a confrontational person. 
It happens late one night, because Midoriya stops taking days off, when both of you are in bed. Midoriya still wraps one arm around you, using his other hand to scroll through his phone. 
“Izuku, is everything okay?” you ask softly, almost nervous to question it. 
He looks at you, smiling uneasily. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” 
“N-No reason. I was just wondering if you’ve been more busy than before. It’s just that you’ve been coming home later and later. Not to mention that I know that you know there have been a few dates we need to catch up on…” 
Midoriya lowers his phone, pondering your words as he wraps both arms around you. “I know, baby. I’m sorry about that. You know, I didn’t realize just how many cases the police are working on at any given time. Big-case villains, small-case villains, missing people reports… so as the number one hero I’m trying to help out as much as I can.” 
You look over at him. “You’re working with the police to solve all those cases?” you try for a smile and a joke. “No wonder you’ve been so busy.” 
He grins, not noticing the fake smile you’ve plastered on your face. He’s looking at you, but it feels more like he’s looking through you. “People out there need me.” 
You touch his cheek, trying to root him back to you. “Well, I need you too, Izuku.” You try to sound lighthearted, but something heavy plants itself in your heart. 
At that, Midoriya’s eyes really do focus on your face this time. He cups your cheek. “Baby, I’m right here. Always.” 
Are you really? It’s a thought that your mind whispers to you softly, challenging you to say it. But you cannot rise to the task. You don’t say anything that night. You just nod, hugging him and thinking: this is the last time I’ll have to say this. 
Unfortunately, life does not work that way. It finds a way to topple down all around you. Not only does Midoriya remain busy, but you get promoted at Ground Zero’s agency. You move from a cubicle into your own office along with a clusterfuck of new responsibilities. 
The next few months feel like one thing after another. Every attempt both you and Midoriya make falls flat. You plan a birthday party for Midoriya, only to fly out on a impromptu business trip hours before. Midoriya makes reservations for the grand opening of this fancy sushi restaurant, but ultimately stands you up because he fell asleep on the couch. He tries to come home early to surprise you, but you’re out buying groceries for the week. 
Conversation between the two of you becomes as nonexistent as the plans you try to make. What were once joyful exchanges about the past or eventful tales from your jobs become surface level questions about the weather or if either one of you were going to be home for dinner - with the answer typically being no. It feels like another game of pretend with Midoriya - only this time, you’re pretending like this relationship is on the right track. 
Everything comes to a headway on a Tuesday morning. Midoriya is out of bed and out of the apartment. Typical. You didn’t even hear him come in last night (or early this morning). But you notice a text message from Kirishimia at six in the morning. Less typical. Urgent meeting at the heroes commission. Turn on the news when you wake up. 
The headlines jump out onto the screen as soon as you turn on the TV. 
DEVASTATING EARTHQUAKE STRIKES. TOP OVERSEAS PRO HEROES REQUESTED FOR REINFORCEMENTS. 
The footage is horrible. Buildings toppled down, rubble everywhere. People digging through. Children screaming. All the things of nightmares, not unlike the disaster you remember from your childhood - from the Liberation War all those years ago. 
It’s footage that continues to be displayed over social media and over the city as you get ready for work and take the subway to the office. It’s still there when you turn on the TV in your office when you show up to work. 
“It’s horrible,” Roni, your friend from the finance department, mutters, arms crossed over her chest as she joins you to watch. “The hero commission is probably trying to figure out which heroes to send over and which ones need to stay here in Japan.” She turns to you. “Any news from Deku?” 
The mention of his name makes your stomach churn. Truthfully, you haven’t spoken to Izuku, really spoken to him, in weeks. You don’t even remember the last time you existed in the same space together. You clear your throat. You check your phone with a weight in your gut, knowing that there won’t be any messages.You hate that your suspicions are confirmed. “Nothing.” 
He’s probably at the same meeting as Bakugou and Kirishimia, along with all the other top heroes. 
It is a few hours of tense silence in the office. Both for the fate of which heroes will travel abroad and if your bosses will be part of that departure. 
The aforementioned bosses return a few hours later, confirming that they will not be sent away. As part of the top five pro-heroes, they are tasked with staying. “Because some others at the top volunteered to leave. The commission wants to make sure at least some of us are still here holding down the fort,” Kirishima clarifies. 
You wring your hands nervously. “What about Deku?” you ask. 
Bakugou is noticeably quiet, something you pick up on. “You should go home,” he says instead. Then, he trails off into something softer. “That damn nerd doesn’t know when to stop.” 
Your eyes widen, your heart picks up, and you leave. You practically race home to your apartment, to your home. 
Izuku is packing when you arrive. 
You slam the door. “What the fuck are you doing?” 
For a moment, your Izuku peaks through the cracks. He jolts, looking startled and wide-eyed. But when he realizes that it’s you at the door, that facade disappears. You are facing Pro Hero Deku now, the hero who has just volunteered to fly away from here, away from you. “My flight is leaving soon,” he says, returning to packing. 
“You’re leaving,” you echo. “Just like that?” 
“You saw the news, didn’t you?” he challenges. “Those people need me. I have to help them.” 
“Without asking me?” 
He pauses. “This isn’t something I need a second opinion on.” 
You clench your teeth together, trying to swallow the hurt. You’ve heard the stories from Bakugou about Izuku during the Liberation War - about Izuku barrelling headfirst into tracking down All For One alone, without his classmates or his support system, without regard to himself. His warnings suddenly feel like a lifetime ago. “A second opinion?” you bite. “I’m not a fucking doctor, Izuku, I’m your girlfriend. I thought we were a team. Shouldn’t I have a say in this?” 
He throws his clothes on top of the ones he has already folded in. “What is there to say? How do you expect me to stand aside when I have a way of helping these people? How could you understand, when you don’t have the power I do.” 
Ouch. You never thought he’d pull that card. Just because you don’t have a flashy quirk doesn’t mean that you don’t want to help people, it doesn’t mean that you don’t care. But your anger turns into sharp words that leave your lips without warning. “Fine,” you snap. “Do whatever the fuck you want. You’re really good at that.” 
He glares at you. “What is that supposed to mean?” 
“Don’t act like you don’t know anything!” you protest loudly. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t been home in weeks, because you haven’t been here. Not really, anyways. Did you know this is our first conversation in days? But not just that. You’ve been standing me up, ignoring me for months. I thought we could eventually talk about this when things at work quieted down. But things have quieted down. All the other heroes, all your friends, are having date nights and friend nights. But you aren’t. You still aren’t here with me. You just stay out there, taking one police case after another.” 
“You knew what you were doing when we started going out,” Izuku snaps back. It’s like you’ve both been holding back on each other, only waiting until now for the dam to break. “I’m the number one hero now. My quirk comes from All Might, and so do his responsibilities. I can’t always be here.” 
It’s all coming out now, you think vaguely to yourself. The anger is overpowering the hurt you should be feeling. “I know that, and I’m not asking you to always be here,” you say sharply. “I’ve always said that I just want you to consider me and care about me. But I can see that something like that is impossible for you to do.” 
Stop, your mind whispers. Anyone with eyes could see that Izuku cares. He cares more than anyone else on the planet. That’s why he’s here. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’re in love with him, and that’s why it hurts so much.
“You’re right,” he finally speaks hollowly. “How can you expect me to neglect my job? Because that job, and the people that need me…” he pauses. “Are more important than what’s here.” 
The next words you were planning to say die down in your throat, as you both are left alone in the silence of what you’ve just said to each other. What is there to say after all that? 
That’s when the hurt settles in, the insecurities threatening to swallow you alive. You know that you’ve also said some terrible things, but the knowledge that Izuku has confirmed your worst fears renders you mute. That you, for all the love in your heart you hold for the man in front of you, will always see you as second place in his life.
“Fine,” you whisper, refusing to see the empty look in Izuku’s eyes. Not like you can see it anyways with the tears fogging up what’s in front of you. “Go do whatever you want. Save the world just like you always have, Deku. But you should know that if you get on that plane, I’m done. If you get on that plane, it’s over between us.” 
You remember to grab your keys off the counter before walking out the door. 
You don’t know how far you walk, or for how long. The nighttime bustle ignores your sulking as you continue down the sidewalk. You pass by night clubs, convenience stores, other apartment buildings - but none of those matter. All you know in your heart is that this might be the end of you and Izuku. And the last thing he would remember you saying is that he doesn’t care. 
You stop in your tracks. How could you say something like that? Izuku is the number one pro hero because he cares, and he has been a consistent source of comfort in your life because he cares. Was it really okay for you to give him such an ultimatum when you never said you could make him choose between work and you? Maybe you can return back, apologize, and try to talk things out. Perhaps he didn’t mean what he said, just as you didn’t mean what you said. 
You run back to the apartment. Had you walked further than you thought? Your lungs burn with air, your legs ache as you run up the stairs, and through the front door. “Izuku?” you call out. “Izuku, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said those things…” 
But the apartment is quiet, empty of Izuku and his immediate belongings. He’s gone. 
How could he just leave? Izuku may be petty, but never aggressive when upset. Especially when something as big as this serves as a roadblock to your relationship. Especially when you don’t know when you’ll see him again. 
On instrict, your hand goes to your back pocket to check your phone but it’s not there. You pat yourself down a few times, but come up to the same conclusion. No phone. Did you have it with you when you left? You swear you left the office with it in your bag. 
Your bag. It was thrown by the door upon first arrival. You tear into it, rummaging through laptop, files, notebook and planners before producing the damn thing. The screen lights up. 
9 missed calls from Izuku <3 
Izuku <3 (6:03pm): the driver is here. I wish we had more time. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry I have to get on this plane. But people need me. I can’t just stand aside. 
Izuku <3 (6:03pm): I hope we can talk soon 
The lump comes back and doesn’t leave. It makes the tears come fast and hard, the gasps leave your throat as you throw your phone somewhere faraway before curling up against the door. Because are you not someone he cares about? Don’t you deserve to have help from him? 
You bring your knees to your chest, feeling the bitter loneliness stronger than you’ve ever felt before. You always knew that Izuku was a hero above and beyond. The pair of you have been dancing around each other for as long as you’ve known him. You really assumed that things would be alright once feelings were sorted out and Izuku showed up that night all those months ago, promising a commitment to you. But you were naive. Feelings were not enough to enact the selflessness needed to love a hero. 
Just before you fall asleep that night, you vaguely remember crawling onto the couch. Your body carries a heavy weight that lots of tears usually bring, along with a sore neck and back. You sit up feeling groggy and tired, immediately searching for your phone. Although the intention is to check the date and time, you still feel disheartened when you notice Izuku has not called or texted since his previous message. 
You do, however, have some texts from Bakugou. 
boss bakugou (9:46pm): Hey, call me when you get this. I should have told you about the nerd, but thought it was better you hear it from him. Hopefully everything has worked out. 
boss bakugou (9:46pm): Or whatever. I don’t give a shit what happens to you two. 
boss bakugou (9:46pm): I’m mostly kidding. 
boss bakugou (11:02pm): Did Deku leave???? 
You blink, reading the messages many times over because your tired mind cannot process it normally. You debate reading the message, or just ignoring it and also skipping work while you’re at it. 
you (6:34am): he left 
Your fingers hover over the keyboard.
you (6:40am): it’s over 
You should know that Bakugou would be awake at this time. 
boss bakugou (6:42am): Still want to come into work?
A part of you doesn’t want to. But a tiny part of you whispers that you should. 
you (6:54am): of course 
Despite your reassurance, there is a numbness that comes with hopping into the shower and washing away the messiness of yesterday. Because no matter how long you stand underneath the water, you cannot wash away the words and feelings. 
Because was this really the end of you and Izuku? He really did leave, finalizing everything with his choice - picking the world over you. Implying that you aren’t as important as his job and the people who need him is a bold claim. It’s not something one can just make up on the spot and not mean. 
Getting dressed is harder than you thought. You have to put some spoons in the refrigerator to help with the puffiness of your eyes. You have to step into your bedroom for the first time since Izuku left to gather some clothes. For some reason, the reality of what exactly you’ve gone through with Izuku doesn’t hit you. It makes you numb, sure, but it feels like these are problems someone else is going through.
Someone who is not you, as you leave your apartment and somehow manage to find your way to the Riot Ground agency. 
Kirishima and Bakugou are in the lobby of the building as you enter. 
You aren’t going to speak first, and the heroes in front of you seem to know that. “The nerd really left?” Bakugou asks. 
You really thought you wouldn’t cry, especially after crying last night and determining that you were fine enough to work. But somehow, external forces bring up the feelings and the lump in your throat returns. You tuck your hair behind your ears, internally cursing as tears start gathering in your eyes. “Well,” you start, unable to help the way your voice catches, the way it breaks. “He made his decision clear last night.” 
“Man, he was just like this when we were kids,” Kirishima grumbles. “Always putting others before himself. I just never thought he’d do that to you.” He looks at you. “I’m really sorry. I hope he didn’t say anything stupid. He was going a little crazy during that meeting.” 
“He…” you gasp a little under the weight of your tears, hoping that neither Kirishima nor Bakugou will comment on it. “He said… our relationship wasn’t important.” You sniff. “I mean… I also said some mean things. But… I really… didn’t think… he’d leave without saying… goodbye.” 
Bakugou wordlessly passes you a tissue while Kirishima guides you down the hall into his office. Neither of them press you for details as you sit in front of Kirishima’s desk, trying to calm down. 
“Deku isn’t thinking about himself right now,” Bakugou says quietly once your gasps have died down and the tears have stopped. ��When he sees that people need him, and he knows he can help, he’ll self-sabotage himself. That doesn’t excuse what he said, but he likely isn’t thinking clearly.” 
You nod slowly, not sure if you’re acknowledging Bakugou’s words or just trying to get a handle on the overall situation. “I don’t know what to do,” you whisper. 
Kirishima nods. “It’s a lot to handle. And you don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” He shakes his head. “I’m not sure what anyone would do after hearing words like that.” 
What would be the next step anyways? A text from Izuku first implies that perhaps moving the conversation along falls onto your shoulders. But what is there to say? Hey Izuku, I know you said this isn’t important to you and you left for another country for an undisclosed amount of time even though I said our relationship was over if you left. Anyways, how’s it going? 
So rather than think about it - you wait, wondering if the right moment will ever come. 
And you wait. 
But you never seem to find the words to say.
.
Midoriya Izuku is away for a year and a half. 
Your phone remains empty of his texts, his calls, or his love for the entire time. But you see him everywhere, especially on the news where the world is praising him for yet another save. Whether it’s digging people out of the rubble, or helping other countries with villain cases, or teaching society how to rebuild their communities after disasters. 
He’s in his element. His tinge of sadness is probably the knowledge that he couldn’t save everyone, you think to yourself. Always watching him on your phone, or on your laptop when a breaking news notification comes up. 
You’re sure he’s happy with his choice. After all, a year and a half with no contact is quite telling about his decision. Yours too, because you never mustered up the courage to ask how he was doing. You never talk to him. 
Yet, you hear about him enough. Not just through the news, but through your boss and colleagues. It’s hard to avoid your pro hero ex-boyfriend when you work in the hero industry and so happen to have two bosses who have known the aforementioned ex-boyfriend since high school. 
For the most part, both Kirishima and Bakugou don’t mention Izuku. They keep their opinions to themselves with everyday that goes by. They didn’t say anything when you started showing up to work without the necklace Izuku had given you, when you removed the matching phone charm, or when the couple's picture you had framed on your desk went into the trash. 
It’s a line, however, that Bakugou crosses when you give him a box of Izuku’s things - the things he didn’t bring abroad with him like his extra sweaters, books, his favorite All Might mug, and that aforementioned necklace. “Listen,” Bakugou had said. “I know things have been hard for you, having to see that nerd’s face everywhere. But I’m sure it’s been rough for him. Why don’t you give him a call?” 
“What is there to say?” you had returned softly. 
Bakugou had rolled his eyes. “How about you start with saying sorry? I’m sure he also feels the same.” 
You didn’t know how to respond to that. Would sorry be enough to make up for what you said? Would sorry be enough to make up for what he said? Would that be enough to repair the underlying issues of your relationship?
It’s a quiet year and a half. You move out of that old apartment, into a newer but smaller one. You work, eat, and sleep. You see friends on the weekends and watch dramas on the weekdays. Eventually, you stop watching the news every night. You stop getting notifications about Pro Hero Deku on your phone, which is why it comes as a big surprise when Kirishima approaches your office on a random Friday morning. He leans against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest. 
“He’s coming home.” 
Your stomach drops without meaning to. A name doesn’t need to be uttered for you to know who exactly is coming home. You continue typing out your email, doing well to ignore that feeling inside of you. “Is… is that so?” 
Kirishima nods, eying you worriedly. “The repair efforts are finally done. Deku refused to return until he knew everyone was okay.” 
Of course he would, you observe. “I-I’m glad to hear that,” you muster softly. 
Out of the corner of your eye, Kirishima is still watching you. “Ochako and Iida are hosting a welcome back party for him. I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested…” 
“Probably not,” you say, eyes not leaving your screen. “But thanks for the invite.” 
Kirishima makes a noise. “Hey, I think that Katsuki and I have been as hands-off as possible about you and Izuku - but don’t you think it’s been long enough? Why not just talk about your problems instead of avoiding them?” 
You look at him for the first time since he stopped by your office. “I’m not avoiding anything,” you point out. “Midoriya said what he needed to say. I said what I needed to say. Besides,” you look back at your screen. “It happened. He’s moved on. And so have I.” 
Kirishima walks until he’s standing right next to you. He leans back against your desk. “You’ve moved on, huh? Even more reason to go, right? That’s what a friend would do, isn’t it? Support your other friend who is returning home after a year?” 
“He has plenty of other friends,” you retort. You’re not even sure what you’re typing out anymore, but it’s better than looking at Kirishima. He’s likely disappointed in your decision. “He wouldn’t miss seeing me.” 
Your boss makes a noise of protest, but doesn’t say anything. He ends up leaving for an upcoming meeting, saving you the trouble of his further pestering. Not ever seeing Izuku again, you decide, would be the best option. 
Unfortunately, life doesn’t turn out that way. Because three weeks after Midoriya Izuku’s alleged return, there is a knock on your door. 
And you, expecting a package, opens the door. Your stomach drops. “I-Izu- I… Midoriya!” you choke out, your heart suddenly feels like it is launching itself into the sun. Your stomach doesn’t fare well either. You swear it feels like it’s being wrung dry. Your mouth opens and closes a few times, eyes flying all over him as if trying to make up for the year and half you haven’t seen him in person.  
He’s different. His hair is a little shorter. It still has that curly texture at the top, over his forehead, but is that an undercut in the back? Oh dear. Today he is wearing jeans and a sweater with SWEATSHIRT in typed kanji. Well… some things are still the same. His eyes are still that deep forest green color. Today, they are sad. But they are wide, also looking you up and down like he is seeing you for the first time. 
“Hi,” you exclaim after realizing neither of you have spoken words for a concerning amount of time. You try to ignore how distant, how light your voice sounds. You eventually manage to close your mouth. “Sorry, I…” Your thoughts are scrambling. “I was expecting a package…” 
He seems to have found his voice. “O-oh!” he returns, holding up a box towards you. “That must be this. It was by your door.” 
You try hard not to look at him as you reach over. You cradle the package, glad to have something to distract you as you fiddle with the edges. The first time you’re seeing Midoriya in a year and a half, and you are uselessly mute. You do open your mouth, but only to say something stupid. “Seems like the pro hero stuff didn’t work out, if you’re a delivery boy now.” 
Midoriya blinks, quiet, and you curse yourself. 
You close your eyes for a moment, opening them to look at him. “Sorry, that was stupid to say.” 
He tries to smile. But it’s soft, sad, and doesn’t reach his eyes. You hate that you notice right away. “Not at all. C-Can I come in?” 
You inhale slowly, tucking the package behind your back as you open the door wider for him. “Sure.” You watch carefully as he enters your apartment. He leaves his shoes on, but lingers at the entrance. 
His eyes take in the new apartment. “I like the new place.” 
“Thank you,” you say. You place the package on the small table near the door. “Midoriya… what are you doing here?” 
He whirls around. “I’m actually here on business. Kacchan asked me to pick up some damage report.” 
“Oh!” That was unexpected. It’s hard to tell if it’s unwelcomed or not that Izuku actually has a reason for showing up. It’s also hard to tell if Bakugou was actually too busy to come over himself. But it seems like a waste to ponder on that. “Oh, yes. That. I can grab that for you right now.” 
You walk further into the apartment. Midoriya does take his shoes off this time to follow you. “Sorry for just showing up, by the way. I probably should have called you but…” 
You start digging through your work backpack. “Why are you apologizing?” 
“W-Well,” he stammers. “I know Kacchan sent me here on official business but… I don’t know. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m crossing a boundary or anything. I know Kacchan gave me your address, but still.” 
Perhaps he is overstepping. For a moment, memories of his neglect, of your words, flash through your mind. But where you once felt hurt now feels distant and foreign. “Not at all,” you reassure, producing the file and looking up at him. “I mean, we’ve always… been friends, haven’t we?”
If Midoriya is bothered by your question, he doesn’t show it. He smiles again. Yet, once more, it does not reach his eyes. “Yeah. Of course.” 
The silence feels like something dangerous. Izuku looks deep in thought, and it makes you panic. So you cover the distance and extend the folder towards him. “Here you go.” 
He takes it. “Thanks.” A pause. “So, uh, how have you been?” 
You rub your hands, definitely giving away the nerves. “I’m alright. Still working at Riot Ground, which is nice. I actually have to manage people… which is fun, but also nerve-wracking because there’s a team that relies on me to distribute tasks and be on top of everything.” 
“Well,” Midoriya starts. “You’ve always been really organized, so I’m sure you’re doing great. Kacchan and Eijirou always have nothing but praise for you.” 
You nod in agreement, not really thinking as you open your mouth to continue the conversation. “It’s nice that you kept in touch with them while you were away.” 
You shut your mouth but it is too late. The words have already been spoken, and you regret it at once. Why? You were content playing pretend, just as you assume he had been - but now you’ve gone and opened your big mouth. Even worse, you forgot to run your thoughts through that filter in your brain. 
Well. Not much you can do about this now. You’ve threatened the fragile peace of pretending, and now there is not much you can do independently. You pause in your movements, refusing to look at Midoriya. Instead, you stare at the wall behind him. 
But it seems like you underestimate his kind nature. He doesn’t rise to the bait. From the corner of your eye, you see his nod. “I talked to them occasionally,” he starts softly. He pauses, long enough that you look at him. He’s staring back. “I just wanted to make sure things were alright back home.” 
Your eyes widen, lips part. What exactly does he mean by that?
Your silence reads like an open invitation for Midoriya. He steps forward, opening his mouth - ! 
His phone rings, startling both of you out of whatever trance you were pulled into. You look down, shuffling. Midoriya jerks back, face shuttering before pulling out his phone. “K-Kacchan,” he grumbles. 
Noises on the other end of the line. Bakugou, likely reprimanding him for taking too long. 
After a moment, he jolts. “A-ah, you’re right! Sorry Kacchan. I got the files, I’ll head back over soon. No! No… there was no trouble. Okay.” He hangs up, looking at you. “That was Kacchan. I, uh, I should go.” 
You nod. “Uh, yeah. No problem.” 
He moves to make his leave. You follow behind just to see him out, but he turns around before he can leave. “Hey, so. Since I’m back… don’t be a stranger, okay? If you need anything, I’m here.”
Oh, a tiny voice whispers in your heart, fuck. He’s really continuing this game of pretend. 
Valid. Izuku has never been good at confrontation. Neither have you, so you give your best attempt at a smile. “Thank you… Midoriya.” 
His fingers twitch, but leaves soon after. 
Pretending that you were always just friends with Midoriya is strange, but unsurprisingly normal considering your history with him. Now that he’s back home, his unexpected visit to your apartment seemed to enforce something: he’s willing to fake it as much and for as long as you are.
It starts small - hesitant texts he sends sharing something from patrol that remind him of you. Texts that transition into asking about your day, or inquiring about a show you mention. Naturally, you are hesitant to return the effort. But a small part of you, the small part that is soft on him, is elated that he is back and actually wants to talk to you. 
“Of course the nerd would still want to be friends,” Bakugou scoffs. “You clearly don’t know your own boyfriend that well.” 
“Ex,” you interrupt sharply. “Ex-boyfriend. And sorry I don’t have years of experience handling Midoriya like you do. Usually, when things end badly with an ex, ignoring each other is the bare minimum most people expect.” 
“Well,” he snaps back. “You idiot. Deku isn’t like most people.” He quiets down when he sees the guilt on your face. “What are you going to do now? I heard you were invited to Todoroki’s party.” 
That is true. Shouto himself extended the invitation to you through a text message you were surprised to get. After all, most of your friendships with the Izuku’s old classmates have slowed down a fair amount post breakup. In general, you’ve never been too big on attending gatherings of any kind. But since you and Izuku have reunited (i.e., you guys are just playing house rather than actually talk), it leaves you (once again) in a gray zone. 
You settle with just trying to stay aloof. “I was invited, yeah.” 
Bakugou glares at you. ��What? You’re suddenly playing coy? You going or not?” 
You shrug. “I don’t know!!” 
He rolls his eyes. “It’s just a party. It’s not rocket science.” He pauses. “You should go.” 
“What are you, my consciousness now?” you retort hotly.
“Okay, fine,” he spits. “Go. Or don’t go. And deal with a paranoid Deku who is stupid sometimes but not stupid enough to know when you’re avoiding him.” 
You glare at Bakugou for a little longer, really hating how smart he is in spite of his brashness. You’re not really sure you can handle a confrontation with Midoriya right now, and you know that he’ll try to ask questions if you don’t show up. Especially because you know that he knows that Todoroki invited you himself. 
“Fine, fine. I’ll go just for Todoroki,” you say, defeated sigh and all. You pick up your phone to look at the time. It’s 4:30, almost time to leave work for the day. “I’ll go home first to drop my stuff off then head over, I guess.” 
“No,” Bakugou snaps, grabbing your work bag from the corner of your office. “I can see your tricks coming from a mile away. I’m not leaving you on the off-chance you’ll go home and pretend to be sick. We’re leaving now.” 
“No, wait, BAKUGOU!” you exclaim, frantically trying to shut off your electronic belongings and gather the items on your desk that need to go into that work bag. “This doesn’t even involve you, why do you care so much?” 
Bakugou whirls around in the doorframe of your office. “Because if that nerd tries to talk to me about you one more time I will blow his face off. We’re going.” 
You try to act as if Bakugou’s words have lit a fire of meekness inside of you as you follow him out of the office. “A-Are you sure we need to leave now?” you fight weakly. “K-Kirishima isn’t even back yet!” 
“Shitty Hair is patrolling until later today. He’ll be late,” Bakugou explains, practically shoving you into his car. “Besides, the sooner I get there, the sooner I can leave.” 
You huff. “Your intentions are definitely in the right place there, Bakugou.” 
He sneers at you, before turning up the radio and leaving the two of you in silence. It’s a bit of a drive to Todoroki’s house. But in Bakugou’s presence, you’ve never felt the need to speak words to fill the space. He’s enjoyed the quiet as much as you. However, today the quiet fills your mind with questions. Was it really okay for you to be at this party? Would your presence make things awkward? Was Midoriya going to be there?
Bakugou pulls up to Todoroki’s house soon, located in a quiet wealthy neighborhood away from the city. Despite the wealth that you feel in the air, Todoroki’s house is rather discreet and combines modern architecture with a traditional style. It’s beautiful - you’re simultaneously flabbergasted and impressed by how rich Shouto Todoroki is. With the high bamboo and trees, you almost don’t notice a gate on the property, unlocked by a code that Bakugou knows by heart. There’s a sizable driveway, filled with a few cars and a familiar figure that makes your heart both sing and drop. 
Midoriya is in what you assume to be his car, scrolling through his phone. His gaze lifts when he sees you and Bakugou pulling up. For a brief second, his eyes widen when looking at you. But by the time Bakugou parks and you’re hauling yourself out of the car, that glint in his eyes is gone. He’s also out of his car as well, walking over to meet you halfway.
You immediately write that previous look off as nothing. Instead, you smile and wave as you approach Midoriya. “Hi Midoriya, did you just arrive?” 
He smiles over at you. “Yeah. I was just answering a couple emails before you guys arrived.” He glances over at Bakugou with a look that is surprisingly… pensive? “Hi Kacchan.” 
Bakugou grunts in greeting as he immediately starts making his way to Todoroki’s house. 
You cast one last look at Midoriya, who is already looking at you. Feeling the awkwardness start settling in, you turn and follow after Bakugou. 
There are more people at the party than you originally thought as Todoroki opens the door to greet you. You weren’t sure what to assume, only knowing that Shouto Todoroki is a relatively private person - but there is his entire class from the UA hero course and people you can only assume to be his family. Additionally, there are people you recognize from his agency - sidekicks and his manager, who (thankfully) you know. 
Besides that, you are completely on the outside. 
Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea. 
Still, Bakugou’s warning about Deku is too prevalent to back away from. Besides, you think bitterly, you yourself had said it best to Midoriya. You’re friends. 
You see Midoriya entering the house right behind you, and immediately make a beeline down the hallway. In your mind, the excuse is that you need to use the restroom. But asking Todoroki himself would subtract the ten minutes you’re banking on to find it. You’re not sure how long you’re going to be at this party. But every minute away from an unfamiliar crowd would be best. 
You do manage to find a bathroom at the end of the hallway, telling yourself that no one is out there wondering where you are as you fix up your appearance in the mirror. 
When you open the door, Mina is on the other side. She appears to be looking for something, until she sees you and you realize she’s looking for someone. For you. 
She exclaims your name, bounding towards you. “I thought I saw you!!” 
You shouldn’t be surprised that Mina is here, but your heart feels a little lighter knowing that you know another person. While dating Midoriya, you’ve had a few lunches or general hangouts with his old classmates. Everyone was always very friendly in that ‘this is my friend’s girlfriend’ type of way. From your memory, Mina was the someone who treated you more like a friend rather than Midoriya’s girlfriend. 
“H-Hi Mina,” you manage, trying for a small smile. “How are you?” 
“I’m good,” she says, mirroring your smile. “How about you? I… heard what happened.” 
“O-Oh really,” you reply, going stiff. 
“Yeah, from Izuku. I didn’t know right away that you guys had… broken up,” Mina explains. “I was also sent overseas after that big earthquake. But I’m sure it must have been challenging. Frankly, Izuku is an idiot for what he did!” 
You soften slightly. “Well… I wouldn’t say he’s an idiot. I think he just had to do what he thought was best.”
Mina smiles. “You’ve always been so nice and understanding. I’m glad to see that you’re doing well though! We should celebrate that.” 
You blink. “What do you mean?” 
“By letting me get you a drink, of course,” she exclaims, taking your wrist and dragging you back down the hallway. You catch Midoriya’s wandering gaze, but ignore him in favor of Mina taking you to the kitchen. She boasts about the soju and sake that Todoroki let her bring before the pair of you take a couple shots together. It leaves you warm, fuzzy, giggly, and prone to wandering around. 
Eventually, as Mina gets caught up in her own group of friends, you find yourself in the backyard of Todoroki’s house - the shishi-odoshi hitting the rock and bamboo echoing in the quiet night, the sound of your shoes crunching against the sand underneath your shoes. Todoroki has a little bamboo garden in the corner, fixed with a bench and other flowers whose color reflects off light from the house. 
Still cradling the mix Mina had poured for you, you take a seat on the bench. 
It feels like you’re sitting there for hours before you hear shoes crunching against the sand. You jolt, whirling in your seat and heart dropping when you see that it’s Midoriya himself making his way towards you. 
“M-Midoriya,” you stammer, tearing your gaze away first and staring down at your drink. “Did the party get overwhelming for you too?” 
He’s quiet as he takes a seat next to you. “Sort of,” he answers vaguely. “I also noticed that you weren’t with Mina anymore. I guess, I just wanted to see where you were.” 
You look at him. “You… knew I was hanging out with Mina?” 
He looks back at you. “Of course. I remember that you guys would talk whenever you hung out with my friends. Did you have a good time with her?” 
“Y-Yeah, we were just catching up,” you return, laughing softly. “I know it may look like it, but I wasn’t avoiding you or anything.” 
“You sure?” Midoriya asks. “Because it felt like every time I tried to look at you, maybe get a hello in or something, you would look away or run away.” 
Your hands suddenly feel wet and nervous. “M-Midoriya…” 
He sighs. “And that’s another thing. You don’t call me Izuku anymore.” He looks sad again. “I thought we were friends. But you call me by my last name and you avoid me and you…” he trails off, seeming to try and hype himself up for something. “Are you with Kacchan?” 
You blink, taken aback. “Am I what?” 
He gets nervous again. “Are you… dating Kacchan?” 
“No,” you reply dryly. “I’m not with Bakugou. He just drove us straight from the office. You of all people should know that I wouldn’t date my boss…” you cut yourself off, looking back down and frantically trying to figure out a way to end this conversation. “You know,” you say, just speaking words at this point. “You don’t need to be out here keeping me company. I’m sure your hero friends are more important than this,” you try to joke, but it comes out more serious than you were hoping. Your drunken words seem to unveil something unconscious inside of you that you thought you’d move on from. Goddamnit. 
Midoriya doesn’t say anything, as the reality of what you’ve said sinks in. You really hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. But here you are: drunk, cold, hurt, and feeling stupid. 
So you laugh, a hollow sound. “Wow, how much alcohol did Mina put into this? I better go find her and ask because this shouldn’t be allowed…” You’re standing up from the bench, leaving your drink behind, those internal red lights telling you to run despite your outward attempts to look composed. 
In fact, you are about to run because it’s just too awkward. But Midoriya calls your name, softly. And you, always drawn to him, just have to look back. 
He stands, slowly walking towards you. “I don’t know why I said those things. But I’ve always felt awful. I just never had the guts to apologize earlier.” 
You wring your hands. Was he really taking the bait now? He must have been drinking too. But his gaze is clear enough to tell you he’s taking this seriously, and you’re too scared to run away. So you speak quietly. “I know why you said that. And you do too. It’s because you love your job. You can say that you’re sorry but I’ve always felt like you put everyone else’s needs before mine or yours. So… don’t say you’re sorry. Not if you don’t mean it.” 
He’s quiet long enough that you turn around, about to return inside before Midoriya speaks again. “I was being selfish,” he announces, reflective enough to stop you. You turn around. He walks right up to you. “I thought about you everyday while I was gone. Hero work has always been important to me, yes, but you are my dream. You’re who I want to be with, who I want to love. I was stupid to take advantage of that.” 
Your lips part, a sensation filling your body. Is it relief? Perhaps, anxiety? 
You don’t pull away when his hand reaches out, waiting a moment as if expecting you to pull away. When you do not, he gently cups both your cheek, a movement so soft and warm that your heart melts a little. 
But… it doesn’t feel like enough. His touch alone cannot heal the wound you’ve unknowingly covered for a year and a half. Without meaning to, your eyes water. “What… What do you want, Midoriya?” 
He exhales softly, brushing a thumb along your cheek. “I just want to be with you.” 
That makes the breath catch in your throat, making you realize you are actually torn between that relief and anxiety. Relief that he feels the same. But anxiety because you don’t know if that is enough. “I feel like I’ve waited for you my whole life. But I don’t know if I can believe you.” 
His face falls as his eyebrows furrow and he closes his eyes. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes you in, breathes out. “I know,” he whispers. “After all that, I don’t know if I’d believe me either.” 
His eyes look disheartened and full of guilt. So much so that you cannot help but gently touch his nose with your own. “I’m not entirely innocent either. I said some mean things to you that night too, and I’m sorry. I should never have said you don’t care - that was wrong of me.”
He pulls away a little, but his hands are still on your cheek. Still sad but a little bit of hope glimmers. “No, you weren’t wrong for saying that. Once things calmed down overseas, Kacchan called me and gave me a lot of shit for what I said to you. I should have stayed, or talked things over with you. I’m sorry.” 
You inhale soft, feeling a weight lift off your chest and no longer feeling like you have to make a run for it. “It’s okay.” You smile a little. “I know I just said I’d have trouble believing you. But… I do believe that.” 
He laughs a little, more like a tiny exhale. His eyes are carefully watching your face now. “I’m glad.” 
Well, you think to yourself, now that everything's out in the open, it’s probably time to ask the important question. “What does this mean for us?” 
He hums softly, hands leaving your cheeks. But he does not pull away, likely trying to enjoy this moment as you are. His hands travel down to your waist, keeping you close. “I didn’t say all those things hoping we could try being together again. But I do want to say that…” he thumbs at the skin of your hip, always needing to be touching you. “I’m here. Really. I want to be here for you and for however long it takes you to believe me again.”
Your gaze flickers between his eyes, feeling the sincerity of his confession. “Thank you,” you reply softly. “I want to believe you again, and I want us to work together on that. I just think we need more time.” 
It’s neither a full rejection nor a full commitment - but enough where Midoriya grins brightly. “I’ll give you all the time in the world.” 
Honestly? At first, you think Midoriya is full of shit. Not in a bad way. Just in a tentative ‘is he really going to follow through’ perspective. You’ve always believed in Midoriya as a person. But considering the history, the daily ins and outs have required a little more work. 
Midoriya had been away for a year and a half. You may not know his favorite food anymore or his favorite movie or his favorite song to fall asleep to. But something you haven’t forgotten about him is that Midoriya always tries. 
Texts become more frequent, as Midoriya grows more eager to repair that bridge between the two of you. Surface level questions about your day turn back into similar text conversations of how things were when you were dating. He still enjoys checking up on you, asking about your day, and recalling memories that actually make you smile whilst reading them. Despite his behavior, he never actually pushes questions about your relationship. 
He trusts you to communicate, just as you start to trust him once more with your thoughts, feelings, and insecurities. You go from pretending to be alright with Midoriya to actually being alright with Midoriya. And it doesn’t fill you with doubt. It leaves you content, happy to be where you are with him. 
It comes to a headway about six months after Midoriya returns home - and you get injured at work. 
It’s nothing serious. You sprain your ankle after missing a step going down the stairs at the office. Most of the heroes you could have called were out fighting some big villain on the other side of town, so the agency itself was empty of any heroes or sidekicks. Hence, your friend from finance drives you to the hospital. A couple hours of waiting, and you are admitted and immediately given ice packs, a pillow for leg elevation, and a recommendation from the doctor to get an x-ray scan to ensure no broken bones.
You decide to give Kirishimia a call after your x-ray, reassured by the doctor that the turnaround time for the results would take a little over an hour. 
You almost regret trying to give him a call, considering what he was doing at the moment, but are surprised to hear him pick up the phone on the last ring. He calls your name, confused. “What’s going on? Is everything okay? I’m still caught up in the fight. More support has arrived so I think it’s wrapping up soon. Luckily we’ve been able to contain the damage but the first aid station is packed right now.” 
“Eijiro, I just wanted to let you know that I’m at the hospital. But I’m okay.” 
“What? The hospital? What happened? Is everything okay?” Kirishimia calls. “Do you need me to head over there?” A pause. “The police just arrived so I really do thing the fight will be over soon. Not every hero has to be present for the paperwork. I can come over right away.” 
“No, don’t,” you say. “I’m fine, it’s just a sprain. I already did the x-ray scan and am waiting to make sure nothing is broken.” You smile. “It’s alright, Eijiro. Focus on what’s more important - protecting the people.” 
Kirishima makes a tiny noise of protest, but seems to find some validity to your point. He is needed much more where he is. “Okay, fine. But call me when you hear the results.” 
You nod. “I will, thank you.” 
He hangs up, leaving you in the silence of the emergency room ward in a bed surrounded by a curtain. The waiting is long, leaving you with only your phone to occupy you. You watch some of the tailend of the big villain fight. Luckily, the damage was limited to just one of the skyscrapers due to all the heroes that rushed onto the scene. You catch sight of some familiar faces, of this echo of green lightning and immediately jump to thoughts about Midoriya. How was he doing? You hope he’s doing alright. He’s supposed to come over tonight, so perhaps you can ask him how he’s doing then. That is, if you’re able to be released from the hospital in time. 
You’re about to take a quick nap before you hear the doors to the emergency room fly open. At first, you assume it’s a patient since you are, after all, in the emergency wing. But then someone is exclaiming, “Mr. Deku, please calm down! If you just tell me who you’re looking for, I can tell you where they are. Please don’t disturb the other patients!” 
Deku’s name feels like a bolt of electricity running through you as you push yourself up to your forearms, trying hard not to apply pressure to your ankle as your eyes train themselves on the edge of the drawn privacy curtain. 
Suddenly, Midoriya appears, wide and imploring eyes that immediately zero in on you with laser sharp focus. 
“Midoriya!” you exclaim. “What-?” 
“Are you okay?” he asks, quickly walking over to stand next to you. Without warning, he takes your face in his hands. Eyes search your face, likely searching for any signs of anything physically or emotionally out of the ordinary. “What happened? Where did this happen? Who took you here? Did you drive here yourself?” 
“Midoriya,” you say carefully, firmly, watching the way he closes his mouth to let him speak. “I’m okay. I just hurt my ankle at the agency. H-How did you know I was here?” 
He sighs, releasing his hold on your face. But he moves down to your hand. “Kirishima told me. And… it’s like with anything I do. My body moved on its own and suddenly I was running here.” 
You frown up at him. “But weren’t you in the middle of a villain fight? You just left?” 
His thumb is rubbing your hand. He shrugs. “We had a lot of help. The damage was at a minimum and things were wrapping up anyways.” 
You look down, still lost. “But you love finishing up cases. You love reassuring people and always needing to make sure that other people are okay.”
His movement ceases, a time of silence he takes to kneel next to your bed. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly. You, helpless, look at him. “I know I was really bad at expressing this back when we were together. But I need you to know that you’re part of those people too. Not just that, but you’re the person I want to reassure the most and the person I need to make sure is the most okay. I’m sorry if you were thrown off by my arrival.” 
“No, not at all,” you reassure quickly, tightening your hold on his hand. “I was surprised, but in a good way.” 
He brightens at that, straightening up and kissing your forehead. “Okay. And I’m glad to see that you’re okay. Are they going to release you soon?” 
You nod. “I think so. I got an x-ray, so a doctor will be giving me the report soon. They just want to make sure that nothing is broken.” 
Midoriya brings your hand to his chest. “Can I wait here with you?” 
You give him a private smile. “I’d like that.” 
So Midoriya sits on the bed with you. Neither of you talk about his confession or what it means for the both of you. You just sit and joke around like no time has passed. He’ll occasionally fuss over your ankle, but it doesn’t last long. The doctor comes around and confirms no broken bones. He follows it up with strict orders to rest for the next four to six weeks before allowing you to leave. 
The doctor comments about how nice it is for your boyfriend to take time off from heroing to see you off. You smile, hold Midoriya’s hand, and try to sort through the butterflies in your stomach. 
.
Four to six weeks later, you take the subway to Midoriya’s neighborhood. His house is a place you’ve been to once, solely for work purposes so you still have the address on your phone. To be honest, you’re not even sure if Midoriya is home in the middle of the day. It’s Sunday, his new day off (or so he’s told you), so you imagine that he’s likely home resting. You hope so anyways. 
Well, only one way to find out. You knock on the door with one hand, using the other to balance the tray of breads and desserts you’ve just picked up from that expensive bakery in the city. If he isn’t home, you might just have to leave it on the front steps… 
The door swings open, revealing Midoriya in his casual attire of jeans and a shirt that says SUNDAY on the front.
You make it a point not to stare at the shirt in favor of looking at Midoriya’s frantic look. “Hi,” you greet cheerfully, holding up the box of pastries. “I wanted to bring you something.” 
“Baby, what are you doing?” he asks, dragging you in by the waist. “You just got out of the hospital, you shouldn’t be walking right now!” He’s pouting cutely. He’s been more generous with his touches and nicknames since your return to the hospital, and it’s put you on a hopeful high where maybe… perhaps… he’s down to go out and give this another shot. 
“I’m fine, Izuku,” you say mindlessly, not trying to fight your way out of his hold. You just hold up that box of pastries. “I was on strict house arrest orders from my boss and got daily visits from a certain someone so not only am I very well-rested, I am antsy. I’m not allowed back at work so it’s only right that I get a little bit of exercise. And I know how much you love this bakery and… are you okay?” 
You stop because Midoriya is looking at you with that soft smile on his face - the same kind of smile he’d wear before telling you something important. 
“No, it’s nothing,” Midoriya brushes off. He just takes the box from you and rests it on the table near his door. “You just called me Izuku.” 
A little bit of your cheerful disposition from before vaporizes. “Oh. Um, yes… I did.” You gaze up at him. You were speaking a little too freely. Even though you and Midoriya are in a really good spot, there are still some things that haven’t been firmly established yet. Like, for example, what the specific label of your relationship was. “Is that too much? It sort of just slipped out, I’m sorry…” 
“No, don’t apologize,” he says hastily, wrapping his arms back around you. “I guess with what happened between us and your trip to the hospital… things have just been feeling different.” 
“They have!” you say, a little relieved. So his question wasn’t for disappointment, it was just curiosity. Again, you’ve underestimated his kindness and his love for you. But you refuse to back down again. “I… actually came here for another reason.” 
His gaze is still trained on you. 
You keep your head up. “I’m here to ask you out.” 
Midoriya tilts his head, not fully understanding. “You wanna get lunch?”
“No, no, I meant… like, I want to go out with you. Date you. Try being your girlfriend again.” 
His eyes widen, bringing you closer to him. “Are you serious? You… you want to try dating? You… believe in me now?” 
His words from Todoroki’s party flash in your mind: I just want to be with you.
You nod. “I really believe in the things you’ve been doing to balance your life out more. I know you’re doing those things for yourself, and seeing you make the choice to take a day off or seeing me at the hospital made me happy. It makes me want to try being with you again, knowing that we’ve grown enough to put in our best effort.” 
Midoriya smiles at that, big and bright as he cups your cheeks. “I promise you that I’ll never make you regret this.” And you, filled with so much love and hope for this, kiss him. He kisses you back, firm, simultaneously scooping you up in his arms. 
You gasp out against his mouth, that shock turning into a fit of giggle. “Izuku, what are you doing?” 
“I’m protecting your ankle!” he points out playfully. “Want to come down?” 
You pretend to contemplate. He’s lifting you up so easily. “Hmm, actually no. Maybe I’ll just stay here and let you lead the way.” 
He leans up towards you, signaling what he wants next. You indulge him easily, leaning down halfway to press your forehead against his. He closes his eyes, breathes you in. “I definitely intend to,” he says.
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animeprincessforever · 8 months
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Tamaki X Pregnant Reader
Slight angst baby but with happy ending, short story
You and Tamaki have been together for 2 years thanks to Neijire and  Mirio's help. However little did you know a suprise pregnancy just might mess it up.
You were in the bathroom startled, scared, anxious, and stunned starring at the stick with 2 lines. "How could this happen? I have to tell Tamaki! But will he be happy? Or will he be mad?" (Y/n) thought. So she decided to call him and asked if they could meet up at a park. Whe Tamaki got there he gave you a hug and kiss. "Bunny, is everything okay? You sounded anxious on the phone." he said. (Y/n) took a deep breath and said "well... I'm pregnant! Isn't that wonderful?" Tamaki had a stunned look on his face and replied "uh... I-I-I-I don't k-know about t-this. I mean w-what about being a h-hero? Wouldn't t-t-that g-get in the way?" Tears fell down your face as you yelled "HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?!?! You know what? FORGET IT WE DON'T NEED YOU!" And with that you left heart broken.
5 years later...
Life has treated you well you have a baby boy named Shu who resembled Tamaki in every way starting with the shy smile, the ears, plus Tamaki's hair, and his personality. Recently you've gotten a call from Neijire asking if you could come over. You said yes and with that you grabbed Shu and started the drive. When you arrived Neijire looked at Shu with wide eyes "OMG! Is that Tama-" before she could finish you covered her mouth and gave her a nod. Shu tugged on your shirt and said "mama I need to go potty" Neijire said for him to use the one upstairs cause the one downstairs was broken. With that Shu went upstairs to use the bathroom.
Neijirie then said "Oh. My. Gosh! I never knew you and Tamaki had an adorable baby!" You gave a sad smile and explained everything. With Neijire gave you a hug and said "I am pretty sure he regrets it cause after the break up he never was the same. He talked less. And me and Mirio had to force him to eat."  (Y/n) gave a sad smile and said "part of me still loves him despite of what happened. I mean every time I look at Shu I see him. And when we watch the news Shu will say how great Suneater is and that he wants to be a hero like him. I wish I could talk to him again b-" "I AM SO HAPPY YOU SAID THAT (Y/N)! Cause I invited him and Mirio over!" "WHAT?!?! I didn't mean right now!"
When all of that was going on Shu was walking down the stairs. However he missed a step making a yelp as you and Neijire watched in horror. However before he fell a tentacle flew out of no where and stopped him from falling down the stairs. Your eyes widen as you saw Tamaki. 5 years. It's been 5 years since you've seen him. As Shu was loured to the floor he sprinted into your arms and said "MAMA! That was so scary! But that guy saved me. He just like my favorite hero Suneater!" You smiled and said "ya... uh we gotta go baby" "okay mama"
"Um. Thanks Tamaki" you mumbled as you rushed out the door holding Shu close. As you walked of Tamaki went after you and wrapped a tentacle around you. You looked back and you both had tears falling down your faces. Tamkai was the first to speak "(Y-y/n) I am s-o s-sorry I thought I-I-I had everything I w-wanted but I didn't. I n-need you. And our son. I know what I did was wrong and I am sorry I-" before he could finish you went into a hug and cried leaving Shu confused. "I lobe you Tamaki! And I forgive you I want you back in my life and I want you here for Shu."
"M-mama who is he?"
"This is your father" (y/n) said giving Shu a smile. With that Shu gasped as he couldn't believe what his mother said.
Few Years Later...
You and Tamaki where now married and back in love after going to couples therapy to keep things happy. As some more time went on you had a baby girl named Ema who looked like you but with Tamaki's ears.
Thanks so much for reading! Please check out my other stories! I also will take requests
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m0chicakes · 3 months
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The full cover from that I posted Aizawa from earlier, featuring some cringe ocs of mine
I’ll probably post a master list of this later but for now it’s just some silly passion project of mine- you can read the actual story so far here
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missmeinyourbones · 2 years
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touya todoroki x reader (MINORS DNI 18+)
NSFW (!!!) afab!reader, thigh riding, dacryphilia, penetrative sex, not proofread lol - minors and ageless blogs will be blocked.
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Touya’s never been wanted—in any meaning of the word—so forgive him if he’s not used to receiving the open attention you give him so selflessly. 
But with you, right now, wanting him so desperately that you’re dripping onto the denim of his pants, rocking your hips on the rough surface and letting out tiny whimpers and pleas as you work yourself up, Touya thinks he can get used to this. 
He adores it.
He thinks that one of his favorite things in this godforsaken world is having you thrashing back and forth on his thigh, desperately chasing a high that you both know isn't enough to satisfy you. He can sit there and do absolutely nothing, be nothing, and you’ll still want him. Still need him. It goes straight to the ice cold lump of coal that he calls his heart—as well as the pulsing cock strained within his pants. 
“Touya,” you whine, arms wrapped around his neck as you continue to grind against his leg like a dog in heat. But it’s not enough. 
“Hm?” he’s paying you no mind, or at least doing a good job of convincing you that he is, as he sinks further into the couch, eyes locked on the old movie mindlessly playing on the television. 
“You’re being mean.”
“M’not,” he insists, feeling your cunt clench around nothing at his cruel and dry words. The heat radiating from your cream smothered against his leg feels divine, so he further presses your tiny frame up against his thigh. 
“Wanna cum,” you pout, sounding so small, so weak, as your hands press against his chest for support, “I can’t do it myself.”
“You’ve done it before, don’t see why you can’t do it again.”
Another whiny Touya drawls from your lips as your hips pick up speed again, grinding down on his lean thigh to feel any sort of friction. You feel like your head is spinning in all directions, and all you can smell is the mint from his gum and the sweetness of your leaking cunt. 
“Want you,” you softly cry, and the sound of your pathetic voice would make any other man fall to his knees. However, Touya is not any other man. 
He looks down and you follow his line of sight to the cute little damp spot that your slick has left on his already darkened jeans. He lets his thumb roll over it before bringing it up to his mouth and sucking on the digit with a smirk.
“Think you already have me, baby.”
A quick and whiny no! leaves your lips and he’s gripping your hips, shhing you and ushering you to continue to ride his now bouncing thigh. 
The newfound vibration makes you moan lewdly, something you didn’t expect to crawl up from your throat, as Touya chuckles at your begging. 
“Want your hands, your mouth.” 
Anything, everything.
“Yeah?” he stops the motion of this leg and you sob crudely against his neck. He tsks at your behavior and you feel his breath on the shell of your ear, “Don’t know if you’ve been good enough, yet.”
Touya takes a slender pointer finger and picks your jaw up from the crook of his warmth, forcing you to look him in the eye. He sees your pupils the size of saucers, tears spilling from your lash line out of pure frustration and tension, and he swears he falls further in love with you. He didn’t think it was possible—he didn’t think a lot was possible, until you proved him wrong countless of times. 
Your assault on this thigh continues as you leave open mouthed kisses on his lips, chanting pleasepleaseplease like a prayer into his flesh and bone. He knows your body, knows you’re exhausted from using your whole being to chase your high. It’s cute, he thinks, how easily you get worked up over nothing. 
So cute, that he wants to reward you. 
“Alright, settle down,” he coos as his hands rub soothing circles on your back, and you gasp out of relief at the thought of him potetionally helping you finish. 
“Give you what you want, yeah?” he kisses your cupid’s bow and you're nodding dumbly as he begins to undo his belt. He pulls his boxers down and his cock springs up flush against his stomach. You're practically drooling, moaning at the sight of his pink tip leaking tiny pretty pearls of pre-cum. 
He hooks his hands underneath your ass, slightly lifting you to sit on his cock, before allowing you to sink your weight down on him. He slides in nicely, all thanks to your weeping cunt being covered in slick from your prior show. The moan you let out is unruly, already so sensitive from your aching clit rubbing against the scratchy material of his jeans for so long. 
“Keep doin’ what you were doin’, doll,” he grunts as his hands return to their hold on your hips, gently guiding you up and down on his length, “This time, on my cock.”
Touya isn’t thick or girthy—he’s thin and incredibly long. He doesn't stretch your cunt in a way that burns, he instead snakes his tip all the way to the opening of your cervix, kissing your soft and spongey spot with ease on every thrust. 
You pick up the pace and the only sounds in the room are the slapping of skin on skin and your whines paired with Touya’s grunts. His fingers find your jaw once more as he’s forcing you to look at him. The tears in your eyes look like glitter as he licks the salt from your cheek with a single swipe of his flattened tongue. 
“This is what you wanted, yeah?" he lightly mocks you, tone condescending but you still feel the adoration in it. You always do. 
“Yes,” you drawl into his mouth, quickly followed by a wanton thank you as he meets your thrusts half-way. 
"C’mon then, pretty,” he presses his forehead against yours, nose to nose as he inhales your sweet sounds, “Show me how good you are f'me."
And you do. 
Twisting and arching your body in all of the right places, your cunt squeezes Touya like it was made for him. In fact, he’s almost positive that it was. So positive, that he reaches a scarred hand down to your clit, rubbing fast and tiny circles on the bud with his pointer finger. Your body instantly reacts to his touch, feeling ignited underneath his spell at how good the roughs of his fingertips feel, how well his cock fills you up, how right his skin burns pressed up against your own. 
It’s not long before you're babbling strings of so good! and right there! mindlessly as he watches the way your lips part, the way your hips buck against his own. The familiar coiling in your stomach finds itself brewing and you feel as though you’ve waited ages for this. Lifetimes, even. 
With a few clenched shit and fuck's from Touya, followed by a few of your own high pitched m'cumming!'s, you feel his hot seed coat the insides of your walls as you cream around his cock. You thrash around in his arms and your whole body spasms and stiffens as the power of your orgasm ricochets throughout your entire frame. You feel it in the pit of your stomach and the tips of your toes—and it’s this very feeling that you’d been chasing when you straddled Touya’s thigh and made it your own in the first place.
Touya’s never been wanted. He’s unfamiliar with the feeling of being preferred, cherished. As he catches his own breath with you in his arms and his cock softening between your thighs, he decides that this is what it feels like. This is immeasurable desire—not because he’s second choice or because he’s unable to provide, but because he’s enough. 
He’s more than enough when it comes to you. 
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