#c. aizawa

[chericos]

men who are so sentimental and sappy it's PAINFUL

You’d always dreamed of your wedding—the venue, the bouquet, and, of course, your first dance.

you grew up watching your parents fall deeper in love with each passing year. spent days watching back through old family CDs of their wedding. of their first dance.

the video was practically worn out from the countless times you’d replayed it, watching their first dance over and over. you've practically ingrained it in your brain. every step, spin, dip, rhythm, the look of pure unbridled unadulterated love, that they shared between them. it was burned into your memory.

and naturally, you imagined yourself in their place. your arms wrapped around the person you'd spend the rest of your life with. your love. so when you met him. the man you couldn't envision a life without, you mentioned it. only once, in passing. and you never brought it up or thought about it again further down the line with planning.

so imagine the shock on your face, the venue packed with friends and family when the first notes of their song began to play.

he took your hand, his grip steady and warm, guiding you into the first step. for a moment, you hesitated, the familiarity of it overwhelming. but then he smiled, that soft, knowing smile that told you everything without a single word, and you let him lead.

the steps were the same. every turn, each twirl, the way he dipped you so perfectly, as though he’d practiced it for months (spoiler: he did). and you realized, as the music played on, this wasn’t just a dance—it was the dance.

when the song ended, you stood still, holding onto him tightly. “you’re unbelievable,” you said, your voice shaky.

“no,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I just love you.”

LEVI, ARMIN, NANAMI, SUGURU, CHOSO, AIZAWA, SHOTO, IZUKU, VANDER, JOUNO, KUNIKIDA, CHŪYA, NOÉ, KYŌJURŌ, ROY, AKI, AKAASHI, SUGAWARA, + your faves

@ CHERICOS 2024 all rights reserved do not repost, edit, copy, translate or plagiarise my works

[paranoid-spotlight-everest]

I really hope my vibes are stray cat. We got all these incredible authors and artists in my fandoms, and then I'm in the corner hacking up a furball of an unfinished drabble. Like hey, want a couple hundred words of whatever pair I'm obsessed with?

[plusultraetc]

TRAINING MONTAAAAAGE

TRAINING MONTAGE!!! it's exactly what it sounds like if what it sounds like is a Shinsou quirk training fic :D

UNLIKE SHINSOU'S ACTUAL CANON (TO ME) TRAINING ARC IN NINE LIVES, most of the Shinsou training scenes I've written have been like. capture cloth and/or rescue training (like in 'one for the money, two for the show.' or 'every battle, every day.' or 'when i break pattern, i break ground.' or 'show me where to find the silver lining.' I sure hope the rule about one trick ponies isn't the same for writers as it is for heroes lmao) so I decided to try writing one (1) quirk training scene which turned into two quirk training scenes which turned into three and then I took one and made it its own fic bc it didn't fit the vibes and now there's a gap in the original fic that I still need to pour some more words into 😭 the good news is the reason I write so many Shinsou training fics is that they're very fun to write, I love my purple son and his tired dad

[c-c-cherry]

Febuwhump Day 6: Forced to Stay Awake

(My Hero Academia)

My first (and hopefully not last???) contribution to febuwhump! Aizawa gets thrown around so much in canon and I can't be the only one to wonder what happens during those moments in between. Ao3 is on the fritz this week so I thought I'd cross-post for once lol

___

Read on ao3 for more specific tags!!

Art for it is HERE!!

cw: vomiting, (past, canon) character death, general suffering (its febuwhump you get the drill)

___

No One, No Way, Nowhere

Day 6: Forced to Stay Awake

Word count: 7121

He thought he knew himself by now, that nothing could phase him anymore. No injury or death or horrifying realization could get behind that hard exterior. Whatever he used to believe was irrelevant now. This feeling wasn’t going away like it was supposed to. After confronting what’s left of Shirakumo, Aizawa finds it impossible to close his eyes.

Aizawa could feel his own breath, hot against his face. It stuck to his hair like sweat, making contact with the frigid air of the facility, that was too air-conditioned for a human to stand. 

It was all he could hear, aside from the roaring in his ears, growing louder by the second as he tried to shake the sound that Kurogiri had blasted their ears with. While heavy and laboured, he knew he could still breathe despite the sensation that shook his shoulders, despite everything today.

He sat kneeling on the bathroom floor, somewhere in the decrepit basement that held the remains of what used to be their comrade. He didn't bother to lock the stall door—Aizawa had made it painfully clear that no one was to follow him in. The harsh air of the investigator's facility bit back against his eyes, causing them to sting even more than when his quirk had been activated minutes prior. 

The world still felt as it did back there. Not even the feeling of the air had changed. The sound around him was muted, exposing his ears to nothing but echo. The area behind his eyes throbbed painfully, making it impossible to hold his head up any longer. Aizawa blamed the blurriness of his surroundings on overusing his quirk, even if his sight had never morphed the room into shapeless blobs like this.

He breathed deeply, intentionally pushing the air out of his lungs as if he'd forgotten how to do it naturally. When a muffled, desperate noise cut across the still air, Aizawa couldn't help but press a hand to his mouth to avoid making too much sound.

He couldn't believe what the hell he just saw.

That thing wasn't something he knew. Aizawa refused to believe it. It wasn't something he could recognize in the end. It was something reanimated, manipulated, disgusting, it—Jesus.

He swayed forward as the image, that split second of recognition, forced its way back into his head. Aizawa pitched forward and let his hands find the walls of the bathroom stall, pressing against the sides until his knuckles turned red, then white. He attempted to prop himself up to no avail. His stomach churned urgently, how it felt whenever he had too much to drink or not enough sleep.

Aizawa's eyes begged to close, but he knew if he took his sights off the bathroom wall, images of what just transpired would flood back to him again. He couldn't do that again.

He thought he'd gotten past this grieving stage. It had taken him a long time to undo it and suppress it. Aizawa always thought that dead meant dead. That was how the world worked, even with quirks. It wasn't fair to defy that truth and open things back up so tastelessly. Not after so long. Not after the tragedy had long been put to rest.

Aizawa's chest jumped painfully as he gagged, his mouth filling with saliva instinctually. He swallowed it down, ignoring the sour taste and the shiver that wracked his body in response. 

They were monsters. Whoever did this to his friend was a monster. More monstrous than any Nomu. More hideous than what Shirakumo had been turned into. They couldn't just let him rest? Hell—after everything, Oboro wasn't allowed to rest?

He was going to be sick. 

Aizawa couldn't control his movements. His stomach convulsed against his brain's better judgement. He shivered, attempting to breathe through it as watery lines of cold sweat trickled down his face and the back of his neck. Everything in his body just wanted to reject itself, rid itself of what he'd seen and heard and felt today. With a full-body shudder, the man choked again on a gag stuck in the back of his throat. Then, with enough silence to fool a whole room, he emptied his stomach with nothing more than a handful of coughs.

It was quick, silent, without much struggle. The noise of it splashing into the toilet bowl echoed through the line of empty stalls and sinks, but Aizawa couldn't hear it over the sound of his ragged breathing. His face felt undeniably wet as he bent down and spat the taste out of his mouth. Round two came out quicker as if it knew Aizawa had somewhere to be later. After the third round, he flushed the toilet, slumped onto himself and let his breathing regulate.

Aizawa knew he should feel better after something like that. It had been a long time since something left him disgusted enough to vomit. But sitting here, his body curled up against the wall like crumpled-up foil, things felt far from okay. 

His feelings—whatever feelings he had left to show today—felt like they'd been pulled out of him against his will, brought up like another thick ribbon of vomit. The investigators had used him to crack some code, something that would help him get revenge on whoever had done this, but…

"Aizawa," a familiar voice came from outside and a hand knocked on the bathroom door. He tensed up, waiting for someone to enter. They never did. "You good, bro? We should get going."

He could recognize Hizahi's voice, trying his best not to sound as concerned as he did. Aizawa knew what those words really meant. Underneath it all, Hizashi was asking if he had to come in and see if he'd done something stupid. Aizawa recognized the same tone in his voice every time he landed in the hospital. 

Bringing someone into this, even someone he knew would understand…it felt too much to bear. He just wanted to forget this, but he couldn't.

"Yeah," Aizawa called out gruffly, trying to make this voice sound steadier than it was. "Yeah. Fine."

After everything they'd seen, he told Mic and Torino to give him five minutes. Five minutes, and then they could drag him back to school. He just needed to fix up his eyes. He needed to compose himself before returning to Hizashi's car and pretending nothing happened.

Pulling himself shakily off the floor, Aizawa blew his nose, still running from the pressure released upon spilling his guts. He washed his mouth out, then his hands. Finally, he applied a few drops to his eyes and pocketed them later. He didn’t bother looking at his reflection.

Hiding strategically behind his hair and readjusting his capture scarf, Aizawa pushed the door open as determined as he could muster. Sure enough, Hizashi and Torino stood a few feet away. For once, the blond was silent as he trailed along next to him. They both had a lot to think about.

"I know it doesn't seem like it right now to you, but I'd consider that a miracle," Gran Torino finally broke the silence. "It's not the one we all hoped for, but the fact that we could get him to talk at all was an incredible breakthrough." 

Neither of them could respond to that. Aizawa felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, mingling with the cold sweat stuck to his skin like glue. Thinking about it made him want to vomit again.

"So, what?" Mic's voice was so low that it was hard to hear. "What now?" 

Torino kept walking, as grim-looking as the rest of them. It was as if he never witnessed their outbursts earlier. Treating them like adults when they both felt like such kids.

"There's only one thing we can do from here," the older man stopped at a pad of numbers, typed in a series of them, and stood back as the large metal doors screeched open. It was comforting to know that everything he'd seen today was contained to this series of hallways. "We listen to what Shirakumo told us."

That wasn't Shirakumo, Aizawa wanted to say. He kept having to remind himself. These people should be locked up for even assuming that such a thing could still be Shirakumo. They had no idea what he was like back when he was Shirakumo. They couldn't take that purple-shadowed amalgamation and stick the name of a martyr onto it.

"I don't want to be called out of class again unless there's something else to show for it," Aizawa snapped out instead. He could feel his skin prickle and tried to imagine Hizashi's hand on his arm from before, something that now felt strikingly absent. "Don't waste my time."

I'll continue the investigation myself if no one else shows competence. That was what Aizawa knew he should add to that, but he just couldn't. Promising something like that right now would be a death wish. This entire ordeal was going to kill him, and just after he tried to lay it all to rest.

The elevator took them up to ground level. Hizashi didn't call him out on his harsh words like he had before they saw what they'd seen. He didn't tell Aizawa to calm down. There was no reason to be rational now.

"We'll be in touch. I imagine we'll be out on the field later this week," Gran Torino nodded in their general direction, barely bothering to look at them as the two wandered into the parking lot like a pair of zombies.

The passenger seat of the car was cold. Aizawa had to swallow back the taste in his mouth as the vehicle jerked to life. Within minutes, they found themselves back on the freeway in bitter silence.

"A miracle," Hizashi finally muttered. It was venomous, ready to strike at anyone who disagreed. His hands gripped the wheel like it was someone's neck. Someone's neck. Even after all these years, they couldn't shift the blame onto anyone specific. "What a load of shit. Torino's old, but he's not senile enough to forget that miracles are supposed to be fucking happy."

Aizawa turned and looked out the window instead. He couldn't look in Mic's direction anymore. They never spoke about it like they should have when it first happened, and he wasn't ready to do it now.

"And now what? They want us back to teach?" Hizashi continued under his breath. Hearing him below top volume was unnerving. "How do they expect us to train kids to fight things like that? When the hell did that become part of the job description?"

The blond laughed with disbelief, almost manic. Aizawa curled in on himself and viewed the reflection of the man in the window. He didn't want Hizashi to look at him. Didn't want anyone to look at him.

"We signed up for it," he said gruffly, but— Jesus—did they really? Was this really in the books when they first became teachers?

"Yeah," Mic laughed breathlessly, "Sure. Whatever, Aizawa. I'll have no problem conjugating verbs while thinking about the state of whatever we saw in—"

"Watch it," was all Aizawa could snap in the end. He could feel the tension in the car grow tenfold as his friend fell into silence, and fuck, bickering with Hizashi was always so awful when it was over something real. Watching the man get serious was like watching the sun crash out of the sky.

"Take a nap," Hizashi's hand dug into his shoulder, and Aizawa felt the need to shrug it off. "Until we get back, at least. You need it."

Aizawa didn't have it in him to argue, not even to tell him to fuck off. He let his head fall numbly against the cold window instead, allowing the frost to seep the rest of the warmth out of his body.

As if he could sleep after seeing something like that.

~~~

Aizawa knew what shock looked like. He had years in the industry to get accustomed to it. He'd seen it on the faces of civilians and in the unspoken body language of his past students. It stuck to the faces of Pros despite how tough they all seemed in tense moments.

He was forced to identify it in school and then trained to act on it in the field. When he enrolled as a teacher, mandatory courses and workshops on ensuring your students coped adequately with exposure to dangers became trivial.

Aizawa had seen enough shock to recognize it in himself, too. Or he thought he did. The USJ and Eri's rescue did a number on him, but even that eventually floated to the back of his head. He thought he knew himself by now, that nothing could phase him anymore. No injury or death or horrifying realization could get behind that hard exterior.

Whatever he used to believe was irrelevant now. This feeling wasn't going away like it was supposed to.

Aizawa wasn't quite sure what was happening now. Was this was a new development that would stick with him forever? Or maybe things had felt like this his whole life, and he was just noticing it now. It felt endless, the feeling of watching a hollowed out version of himself.

Aizawa was used to feeling detached. It was necessary for his work, but something about this felt painfully different. His hands barely felt like his hands now. The reflection looking back at him looked foreign, too old, too unfamiliar. His work after seeing Kurogiri felt more like a series of computer commands than any kind of mission with substance. Everything about him felt aimless. He couldn't tether himself back to solid ground. He couldn't even pretend to.

Maybe he had more in common with Nomu than he thought.

You're sickening, he told the person in front of him, the unrecognizable him. Comparing yourself to those things? What right do you have even entertaining that? 

After a day of carrying out orders like clockwork, saying the things he was supposed to say and plotting a well-deserved revenge plan with the other Pros, Aizawa couldn't help but feel like the rug that had been pulled out from under him wasn't even close to being back beneath his feet.

It could be a delayed response, he kept telling himself. That was entirely possible. He'd seen prolonged effects of bad moments in his students all the time, especially within this batch of first years. Midoriya and Bakugou faced off against one another over issues that happened years ago. Kirishima got a faraway look in his eyes when he watched Ashido in combat. Even the class reps had their rocky moments of self-consciousness and blinding rage.

But this kind of a prolonged response from a Pro? An employee? A mentor? It was unprofessional, even at its best. 

Aizawa didn't get it.

All they had in there with Shira—no, Jesus, Kurogiri—was a conversation. Nothing more than that. A conversation with something horrific, yes, but nothing compared to the other things they'd faced. Mic seemed angry but still just as functional as before. Why was this happening to him? Why now?

Pushing through it or taking time off seemed like a viable solution. In fact, Aizawa was sure Nezu would have forced him to take a few days to himself after going through something so awful, but it seemed impossible to think about now. Not when the mission to find out who'd done this was already underway.

It didn't take them long to zero in on the hospital, to find a name and a face. It wouldn't be long before Mic could blow the monster's brains out, and Aizawa could strangle it with his scarf until it turned blue.

Aizawa knew he should feel invigorated, finally allowing himself some kind of closure after years of grief. Hizashi couldn't wait for revenge, so why shouldn't he? Instead, he sat over his computer, watching confidential emails flood in about the operation. More and more Pros outside of UA had been copied to it.

He suppressed whatever feelings he had with blue light, his bed in the other room still made and untouched since the night before. He would read about the finer details of the operation over and over. He would stare at the unfinished profile of the man they suspect made the Nomu. 

If his eyes began to close, he would feel around in his desk drawer for eye drops and apply them. Rinse, repeat. Sleep wasn't going to happen just yet. 

"...Aizawa." 

The man nearly jumped out of his chair as a cold hand tugged at his sleeve, pulling him away from whatever harrowing thing kept him glued to his screen. Aizawa thought of the worst first. Early ambush, Nomu, another dead friend. He spun around, lack of sleep already filling him with irritation and misplaced adrenaline, ready to separate himself from whatever force had locked onto him.

It was only when his eyes strained in the half-lit room that—no—nothing was coming back to haunt him, after all.

"Eri," he breathed out, trying to keep his expression neutral rather than… whatever he was showing. "You snuck up on me."

Eri looked up at him, hand still gently gripping his shirt's sleeve. She was always so quiet, even when sitting and playing in her room. Aizawa preferred the silence compared to some of his wilder students. He knew she did, too, at least for now. Mirio suggested putting a bell on her to ensure no one tripped over her, the way she loved to sneak up behind them.

"You've been here a long time," the girl ignored his previous comment. She pointed over to his computer screen. "What is that?"

Aizawa's heart nearly fell into his stomach as he flipped back around, head running through all the graphic evidence he'd been looking into all afternoon and how he was going to make the poor girl doubly traumatized. He was lucky it was nothing. An email from the Endeavor agency. 

He sighed into his other sleeve. 

"Work," he spun the chair around slowly, bending down to her level. "I've been working. Is there something you need from me?" 

"It's dark," she said quietly, "But you aren't sleeping."

Aizawa felt the pounding in his head far more intensely than before. It used to be light out, he realized. The sun had nearly set, leaving the room in a dusky, half-lit glow. Eri was always a little too observant. 

"I'm doing some research for my next job," he said. The girl looked confused, and he realized she was probably too young to know what that meant. "I'm trying to know more." 

"Oh…" she looked down, thinking about it. Aizawa watched her carefully before she looked back up and stared right at him. "You didn't go to bed yesterday. I wanted water in the middle of the night, and you were awake. And you didn't fall asleep today like you always do."

Aizawa blinked unexpectedly, a bit of moisture coming back to his eyes. He supposed she was looking for a bit of reassurance from the blip in her everyday routine. "I've been busy. But everything's okay." 

"Did you get hurt?" Eri stood her ground. "Heroes get hurt sometimes. Lemillion said it."

Aizawa shook his head, trying not to chuckle. "I'm not injured." 

"What about here?" standing on her tip-toes, Eri leaned over and pressed her finger into his chest. Dragging it slowly, it landed right above his ribcage. Aizawa's shoulders tensed suddenly as he realized she was trying to find his heart. "When it hurts here a lot, I stay awake, too."

Her words pierced him more than he expected. His mouth felt dry. Eri wasn't supposed to worry about him. That wasn't her job. The fact that she understood something at such a high emotional level was both impressive and heartbreaking, and Aizawa felt sick thinking about it. Before he could reply, the door opened wider.

"Eri, Aizawa's working in here, remember? What did I say about going in without asking first?" A sunny voice accompanied by a pair of big hands came up behind her, hoisting her several feet in the air. The girl squirmed under Mirio's grip, eventually falling limp as he stuck her on his shoulders. The blond looked over at Aizawa, his smile too big for his face. "Sorry. I was in the bathroom. She's been wanting to come in here all afternoon."

She was really worried about him. Aizawa didn't like that for a number of reasons.

"Thank you for looking after her today," he crossed his arms as if trying to hide whatever part of his heart that Eri could see. "She'd be pretty bored with just me today." 

"It's no problem at all," Mirio let Eri situate herself on his shoulders and reached up to hold her dangling hand. "Big day coming up, right? All the teachers have been talking about it."

"An understatement," Aizawa's head throbbed with each word, and he was grateful to be sitting down. He wanted to put more eyedrops in, but…hadn't he just done that? 

"Lemillion says a big hug can make anyone feel better," Eri inserted herself back into the conversation. She still had her eyes locked on him. "Lemillion…can you tell him? Please?"

Mirio tilted his head to the side playfully.

"What's that? Does Mr. Aizawa need a hug?" he looked up at Eri and laughed, not noticing the frustration growing on her face. "For the sake of UA's future, maybe we should both volunteer!" 

"Very funny," Aizawa tried to deadpan, brush it off, and return to his work. But now, with the funny feeling of dread hanging off his arms, shoulders, and face, he couldn't help but feel it in his heart, too. 

~~~

Aizawa knew he should be preparing his body more for this moment. 

People were counting on him out there. His quirk was needed more than anything. They needed it to have a fighting chance with who they were up against.

He'd received special orders, classified instructions that blurred and warped on the paper when he looked at them. There were places he had to be. Times he needed to memorize. He couldn't overuse Erasure for anything unnecessary, had to save it for the pivotal moment he was sure to contribute to in a matter of days.

His allies instructed him to protect his eyes twice as much until the day came. He had to rest his body and ensure he wouldn't burn himself out before the battle began.

Aizawa would have taken the opportunity to sleep in an instant. The room had started to tilt at an angle, and his head pounded incessantly. He knew he needed to give his body a break. 

If only he could close his eyes without wanting to rear his head and vomit.

Sleeping was a no-go until that dreadful feeling let up—if it ever let up. For now, Aizawa found himself in the staff room. it was empty, as everyone else scrambled off to prepare for their anticipated confrontation with the Liberation Army.

The students and teachers participating in the fight found themselves on the field, coaching themselves and others on what to do in every conceivable scenario.

Aizawa was alone, pulled away from his students. They required him for "bigger things," meetings with Endeavor and the Hero Commission and whoever else had been recruited to take these people out. He stared down at his stack of papers, trying to lie to himself that he was being productive when he could barely lock his eyes on the words.

"Aizawa. Hey there." 

Correction. He was almost alone. It seemed he'd forgotten that one teacher at UA couldn't participate in the fight. 

"All Might," he greeted the man without turning his head, not bothering to straighten himself out and sit up. The staff was used to his informal, exhausted posture. The former symbol of peace was no exception. "You're not out training."

The older man stretched his arms above his head as he crossed the near-empty teacher's lounge. Aizawa should thank the man. Toshinori covered the classes he should have taught when he was pulled into the investigator's facility. He wondered if the man knew how important that was. There wouldn't be a solid attack plan like this if it weren't for that. 

"I'm giving them a breather. Letting them escape my iron grip," Toshinori laughed to himself, and Aizawa couldn't help but think it was ironic that All Might himself was teaching people about taking breaks. "Handed them off to Cementoss for the more endurance-level activities. Not much I can do in that department anymore, right?"

The man flexed whatever was left of his bicep and laughed again, a chuckle that quickly became a wet, crackling cough. The imagery of blood spilling out of the man's mouth didn't usually phase him, but this time, it made Aizawa visibly wince, his shoulders instinctively closing in on himself. He shook it off and tried to focus on the list of commands he'd barely been able to memorize.

"Right," he muttered.

Aizawa felt the world catch up with him late as he turned his head and watched a blurry version of the hero on the other side of the room.

All Might didn't seem to notice his colleague's off-ness. Instead, he chose to cross the room, over by the coffee machine that Aizawa knew was there, even if it blended messily into the wall when he tried to focus on it. He strained his eyes at the golden silhouette insulting his eyes instead.

"And what about you?" Toshinori asked curiously, "Last time I checked, you're supposed to be recharging your battery. I didn't expect anyone to be in here with everyone out preparing." 

Aizawa knew he couldn't use any kind of usual excuse. Prep work, mission planning, debrief, lunch break…none of that mattered until the League was dealt with and things could lull back to normal. He winced again as All Might flicked on the second set of overhead lights. He could hear the noise of a spoon clinking against a coffee mug. He blinked. His eyes felt painfully dry, like they could shrivel up and fall out of his head.

"Reviewing instructions," he answered slowly. He tried to keep that monotonous tone in his voice. It was unexpectedly difficult. 

"What, for the ambush?" Toshinori, coffee presumably in hand, came closer. Aizawa tried not to flinch away as two blonde strands of hair poked over the back of the couch, peering down at the page in his hand. "They handed those out the day they located the hospital. You still haven't looked at them?" 

God damn the man for being so nosy. He couldn't even fight this battle. Why did Toshinori have to know every detail about the operation? He bit back whatever honesty he had for the man and tried to say something less damaging. 

"I can leave if you don't want company," Aizawa tried to squash the waver in his words.

There was a momentary pause before Toshinori put his hands up defenselessly. "No—no, I don't mean it like that. I don't mind at all. I guess I'm just surprised."

"Surprised," Aizawa repeated tiredly, like a robot. He'd run out of filler words, so he had to take them from someone else. 

"Normally, you'd take up any offer to get some sleep."

The energy in the room shifted quickly. Something about those words felt loaded, but he couldn't bring himself to read between the lines. 

Aizawa paused, straining his eyes to focus on the man as he rounded the side of the couch and sat down next to him. Toshinori kept his distance, but something about this felt off. Everything felt off. He wasn't himself. How would he aid in this ambush if he wasn't himself?

"I've slept more than enough," he lied through his teeth, hands falling into weak fists. If he wasn't careful, the papers he held in front of him would crumple. And then a lot more would crumble after that.

"Sure, sure," Toshinori offered him a wry smile. "Your eyes are so bloodshot, they're making mine feel dry."

The world tilted again, and Aizawa tried not to let the secret slip that he could feel the earth rotating beneath him. The retired hero was speaking again, and he snapped himself out of this disorienting feeling by forcing himself to respond. 

"What?"

"I said you look like you're ready to fall over," a quick pause before, "Seriously, when was the last time you slept?"

The roaring in his ears was back. Aizawa ignored the cold sweat that gathered on the back of his neck and swallowed. He'd get up and leave if he trusted himself to walk, but right now, he couldn't tell if he was swaying or if the rest of the room was. His eyes burned. 

"Everything's under control," he forced out, even though that was far from the truth. "I'm doing what's been asked of me to ensure this runs smoothly."

"You don't have to spit out whatever lines you're feeding to the Commission," Toshinori pressed, uncharacteristically hard for someone who barely knew him. "Sleep is important—even more so for someone like you. If you need someone to look after Young Eri, I'm sure we can arrange for—"

"Everything's under control." 

Aizawa meant it as an end to their conversation, a plea for the man to stop prying or else he would discover something he didn't like. Because everything was not under control. It unravelled like a spool of thread, too thin and wispy to pick up and fix. 

Aizawa considered getting up, but where would he go? Eri was already worried enough, and only so many places at UA felt so secluded. A part of him thought he could make it to his feet, even if his body felt stuck to this couch like a magnet. Toshinori's slim figure remained silently next to him. Neither refused to move.

"I know what happened with Kurogiri." 

And just like that, the world began to spin out of control again. Aizawa had gotten used to the shaky ground he now stood on, but this was so much more nauseating. The couch felt like quicksand. It pulled him in, crawling up his back and filling his nose and mouth. 

Aizawa shifted his eyes to All Might, who stared into his mug. He looked guilty. He always looked so fucking guilty over every bad thing that happened.

"Sorry. I probably should have started with that. I wasn't quite sure how to bring it up, if at all," Toshinori set down his coffee and shifted over to Aizawa, whose body threatened to turn away. "I got a call from Gran Torino after it happened. I don't know the full details about the interrogation, but I know enough."

He felt an endless pit in his stomach now. Any minute now, he would start to choke on his own breath. 

"Just hearing about it makes my stomach turn," he muttered, and Aizawa stared forward, out the window and off into space. All Might shuffled closer, trying to catch his gaze. His warmth did nothing to shatter the cold he could feel down to the bone. "I'm sorry you had to go through something like that."

None of this is your place to know, he wanted to snap back, among a million other things. I don't want to hear what you have to say about sacrifice. I don't want a speech about not giving up. I want to be left alone. I don't want to be left alone. I don't know what to do. I don’t know what I want.

Exhaustion took over any motivation to be angry. It took away motivation to be anything at all. No matter what fleeting thought came to mind, Aizawa couldn't do anything but try not to sway with the earth. The sky on the other side of the window looked hazy.

"Torino sounded worried about it on the phone. After seeing you now, I think he has every right to be."

That monster that Shirakumo had become  tried to say his name. Shouta. He almost heard it. It sounded so painful, horrifically human. His heart rate climbed until he could barely mask his breath, coming in and out of his mouth unnaturally. Everything felt surreal, and he refused to blame it on the days of sleep he'd missed.

"Do you remember what you said to me a few days ago?" a low, gentle voice pierced through his thoughts, "I can still teach people, even if things are different for me now."

Had he really said that? It sounded wise. Something a teacher would say. Someone who had everything under control.

"Yeah," he forced himself to speak. It was painful doing so. The blurred room had a mind of its own now, his vision swarming like a watercolour painting, just like before. "I said it. What's your point?"

Toshinori was silent for what felt like too long. Then, an alarming and unexpected hand fell onto Aizawa's back. He inhaled sharply as the hand touched the back of his shirt. It sent a shudder down his entire body, one he wished he could control.

"I don't want to overstep," He could almost see All Might's sunken, sombre smile just outside his periphery. "But it feels to me like you need a teacher more than anyone else right now."

That declaration shook him like paper in the wind. Aizawa didn't like feeling 16 again when he was well past 30. The sensation was suffocating. He was an adult now, yet he couldn't stop thinking about how defenseless and childish he felt back when everything first happened.

As if on instinct, Aizawa reached for his eye drops with a trembling hand, cursing to himself as he realized he'd already gone through his other bottle. He couldn't do anything right. He hadn't done anything right this entire school year. 

"Your eyes are in pretty bad shape," the voice attached to the hand on his back spoke up again. Aizawa could feel the man's fingers twitch, an unexpected warmth passing over him. He suppressed the urge to shiver again. He felt so cold. "If you don't sleep, at least let them close. Just for a few minutes, and hear me out on what I have to say."

The soft, authoritative voice blanketed over his thoughts. Aizawa's body felt like static as he fought over whether it was a good or bad idea to plunge his sight back into darkness. He kept seeing things that weren't there when he closed his eyes but his retinas couldn't take much more light. It burned to keep them open. 

Finally, he hunched forward and stopped fighting it. Aizawa thought it would take everything in him to keep them like that, but the temporary relief it brought to his head was like a drug.

He tried not to let his thoughts wander back to Shirakumo, but that felt impossible now. It wasn't just that face anymore, the one he saw in the purple smoke. It was the building. The weather that day. The last expression he saw on his friend's face. Aizawa breathed in a little too harshly, as if even closing his eyes was too torturous.

"You can't be thinking straight, thinking you can rush into battle like this." Toshinori's hand was still pressed against his back. Aizawa kept his eyes closed, lids screwed shut a little too tight. "So tell me what you are thinking."

Aizawa couldn't help another strained, shaky exhale. He wasn't even sure what he was saying anymore—if he was saying anything at all.

"I think it should have been me instead," he choked out roughly, trying and failing to steady his voice. The silence afterwards was deafening, as if he'd revealed his most coveted secret. It had to be obvious, the way he held himself. Aizawa hadn't stayed alive all this time for his own sake.

They both sat there, letting the air fill the gaps between them. Aizawa regretted putting that thought into words.

"I know what it feels like to see someone come back from the dead," Toshinori finally said. Aizawa let his hands find his face and he redirected his breath into his palms. "I've seen it in enemies I thought were gone. Enemies that came back and continued to hurt others. For that, I'll never be able to forgive myself. It felt like I failed my only job."

Dead is supposed to stay dead. Thinking that was the only way to cope with grief. Losing all hope of seeing them again was a part of the process, and now everything had been turned on its head. Dead is supposed to stay dead. Aizawa felt like he'd been screaming that since the interrogation, but no one seemed to understand it.

"But…I see it in the kids, too." Toshinori’s hand moved over to Aizawa's shoulder. It felt strangely solidifying, both his grip and his unexpected words. "I see people who are gone come back to life in the students we teach. It's like I'm staring right at them sometimes." He paused. Aizawa could hear the smile in his voice. "I know you see it, too. It's one of the twisted perks of staying alive this long." 

Toshinori laughed softly at that, and Aizawa felt something wet drip onto the palms of his hands. His eyes were just recovering moisture. This wasn't anything more than that. He still found himself sniffling in response.

"Don't apologize for being alive." The space between them grew smaller, and Aizawa could feel an arm sling around him, loose yet confident in his motions. "You said that to me too, Aizawa."

If Aizawa were in any other state, he would have strangled him for violating the five-foot barrier of aura he exuded. Instead, he brought his sleeves up to his closed eyes and let his breath grow wet and unsteady. 

"I know you're hurting. It's not hard to see it now," Toshinori's half-hug felt surprisingly strong for his current form. "I know it's unfair that people expect you to move on from what you saw so quickly. You deserve more time to grieve instead of dealing with all these loose ends. I wish I could give that to you now, but I can't." the man looked away for a moment as if he couldn't handle saying that last part. "I'm so sorry for not being that anymore." 

Those words felt more like an apology to the world than just him. All Might sounded disappointed that he could no longer prop everything up on his shoulders, and Aizawa hated how good it felt to have his thoughts spoonfed to him from another source. It helped him think less. He didn't want to think anymore. He wanted to drift, ignore how he felt and what he'd seen.

"No matter what's right, avoiding sleep will make everything feel worse."

Aizawa couldn't do anything but nod thickly. He hated being wrong, but everything this week repeatedly proved otherwise. He sniffled again. His sleeve was getting wet.

He really needed to pull it together. 

"I want to," Aizawa finally said, not moving from his position. He thought to get up again but a part of him knew that would be difficult. The previous symbol of peace could ward off Shirakumo's ghost with his presence now, but that wouldn't last once he got up and stumbled to his room. "But I don't know if it's possible." 

He didn't like how his voice sounded hanging in the air. It pathetic and desperate. He didn't know why All Might of all people had been the one to make him break. Despite the man's insecurities, he still had the aura of a hero. A protector.

"If you fight in this state, it won't just be you who dies," Toshinori spoke, "I don't think your body has much of a choice."

He could barely handle closing his eyes. Exhaustion transformed into panic again. He couldn't go back to his room. He couldn't worry Eri or Hizashi or any of his students, who were undoubtedly much braver and more passionate than he could ever be.

Aizawa couldn't stop himself from admitting how he truly felt.

"My mind says otherwise." 

Toshinori was still for a moment, and just like that, he seemed to move without thinking. Quickly and ungracefully, he lifted both arms out and wrapped Aizawa in a tight hug. It was a proper one that squeezed his chest and stomach into one and forced his head to rest in the place between the hero's chest and neck. Aizawa couldn't hide the trembling in his shoulders, letting his head fall onto the man's chest. His eyes swarmed with tears, and he blinked, his scarf catching them as they fell.

This sight would have been unseemly at any other time, but Aizawa couldn't find it in him to care. It felt like his chest had been ripped open and exposed, and he couldn't help but fall limp like Eri had the other day under Mirio's care. He was good at being quiet—silent with everything he'd ever done—but the way his breath shook him and the rest of his upper half felt strikingly loud.

When Toshinori broke the hug, Aizawa found the courage to look up and finally meet his eyes. They were teeming with guilt…or maybe it was more like understanding. 

"I'm here for awhile. If you try again, I'll make sure you aren't disturbed," Toshinori said, as if to really say, I'll be here to protect in whatever way I can.

It was so like him. All Might's state of mind hadn't changed much with the loss of his body.

Aizawa couldn't argue. He was no stranger to napping in untraditional places. He wrapped his arms around himself, head falling forward into his scarf. The world still spun beneath him, even with his eyes closed. Right now, it seemed less like quicksand and more like…nothing. Open air. More neutral than before. 

"Did I ever tell you what happened to those water filters I ordered for delivery? UA security thought the delivery guy tampered with them. Said they could be bombs or poison. I could only use them if I went out and bought them myself…I asked what difference it made if I bought them in person instead of online… you're not gonna believe what they said…"

Aizawa knew what the man was doing. It was painfully purposeful. Filling the room with mindless words instead of the obvious. You only have so much time left before leaving for Jaku Hospital. People are counting on you. You need to think more about living for your own sake. You need to sleep now.

Like always, All Might's actions somehow spoke louder than his words. 

As he finally drifted off, he couldn't help thinking that maybe Eri was right.

___

If you got this far, thank you for reading!! As always, my ask box is open for any thought/requests :)

[imnotsorryforanyofthis]

Quirkless Advantage

Chapter six: Classes and Starting War

Warning: lots and lots of cussing.....

———

These chapters are going to be stupid and short. Enjoy reading!

———

"So how was your first day of school?" Aizawa asks while driving home. "It was fine. Present Mic is definitely something," I say whispering the last part. Aizawa quietly snorts and shakes his head, "You're not wrong. He is something." "Yeah, and I'm not sure if it's a good or bad something," I say and he actually laughs out loud.

It was a short laugh but it was a laugh nonetheless. I look over at him and chuckle quietly to myself.

"I met a guy that is in your class," I start and he glances over at me and asks, "How do you know if he's in my class?" "Well, for one he acts like he's the best even though he's a first year. Also he's extremely angry for no reason and calls everyone extra so..." "Yup, he's in my class," Aizawa says right after I finish my sentence.

"I was looking for my class, I wasn't paying attention when he bumped into me. I almost fell over because of the force, but someone caught me. Anyway, he just said, "move it extra", and walked away." I stop myself from telling him about Haru and that he's not that bad looking. Aizawa looks over at me with a look in his eyes.

Shit... He can tell that I'm keeping something from him.

He turns his eyes back on the road and doesn't say a word.

Oh, ok, so he's going to leave it alone.

—

It's been a couple of days and it's almost the end of the week. Class 1-A had their class with All Might and I believe it's the day when you get to see a glimpse of Shigaraki because I saw the reporters at the entrance of U.A.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" Haru asks me. I look to the left of me and see him with his elbow propped up on the desk and his chin resting in his hand. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask, looking at him weirdly.

Why does he look at me like I'm fascinating or something? It's quite annoying.

"There you go again," Haru laughs, "You make faces when you think about things." I roll my eyes and notice everyone leaving. "Let's go Gingy," I tease, "I'm starving." "You're always starving," he says and I glare at him, "Well, don't call me Gingy." I shake my head laughing while walking next to him, "I'm still going to call you that."

We take our time walking to the lunchroom. As soon as we walk through the door, people run towards us and through the door. They push past us, knocking us over. Haru catches his balance but I fall backwards.

Why am I always falling over? Oh, I know why. It's because I have shit balance and horrible ankles that try to roll all the time.

Instead of feeling wrapped around my waist, I feel the side of my body and head slamming against the floor. Instead of stopping, they keep going. I hear Haru's voice, "Sasaki! Sasaki! Where are you?! Are you ok?!" I can't respond. I'm getting pushed over again and again. Shit, what do I do?

A hand grabs my arm and pulls me up. I come face to face with the last person that I would've expected to help me.

"You're in my way, extra," Bakugou says, letting go as soon as I'm stable. "Thanks," I say as he walks away. He doesn't look back, not even for a second.

"Sasaki?!" I hear Haru yell again and again. I try to go to where I hear him but can't. Suddenly, everyone stops when they hear a loud voice. Looking up, I see Tenya Iida up in the air getting our attention.

Now's my chance.

I continue to walk through the crowd until I see a tall person with red hair. Eventually I see him and yell, "Haru!" He turns around and pushes people out of the way. "Are you ok? Where were you?" He asks with hands on my shoulders.

I wince at him touching my right shoulder. He doesn't notice because he's too busy looking at the side of my face. He frowns and touches my face, "You're bleeding." "Uh, yeah, and you're also hurting my shoulder that I landed on when I fell." I say and he quickly lets go of my shoulder. I still feel his hand on my face and I giggle, "You can let go of my face, it's not going to fall apart."

"Sorry, I just... um..." Haru starts but I interrupt, "You're just worried. I'm fine, I got helped up actually." He only nods as I look up to see Iida coming down from the ceiling. "Let's get something to eat. I'm absolutely starving," I say, turning around.

I look back when I feel a hand around my wrist. "You again?" Haru says glaring at the person who is keeping me from walking. "Go to the nurse. Your face looks like hell and I can tell your shoulder hurts by the way you are holding it," Bakugou says. "I'm fine," I smile, "It's just a few bruises and scratches. They will go away eventually." Bakugou lets go of my wrist while I continue to smile at him. I walk away before he gets a chance to say anything.

I hear someone walking behind me and stops when I stop at the line to get lunch. "Hey, are you sure you don't want to go to the nurse?" Haru says breathing heavily trying to catch his breath. I grab what I want and walk away, "If my shoulder feels worse then I'll go check it out" Haru quickly grabs his food and walks up to my side, "Ok... Where do you want to sit?" "There's a table by the window there," I say pointing to the left.

Haru and I walk over to the table and the second we set down our trays, I hear a voice call my name.

What the FUCK?! All I want to do is to eat my lunch!

"Get your food, we're going to the nurse," the person said.

Shit...

I pick up my tray and turn around, "Aizawa, I'm fine." "I don't care. Let's go... NOW," Aizawa says, giving me glare.

Haru looks back and forth between Aizawa and I. He looks incredibly confused and slightly terrified when Aizawa glances at him for a couple of seconds analyzing him. "Will you stop glaring at me and my friend if I go?" I say, sighing. Aizawa sighs and nods.

I think I've been around him too long. I sound just like him.

We walk next to each other to the nurse and I still have the tray. I look over at Aizawa and see that he isn't glaring anymore, "Why were you glaring at us? I only fell down and got a little hurt. That's all."

"Because I had an angry student barge into my classroom while I was trying to eat, complaining about someone he pushed over yesterday getting pushed over again. Also, that said student complained that the person got hurt and refused to go to the nurse," Aizawa says angrily.

I look down when he opens the door to the nurses office. I stayed quiet the whole time Recovery Girl helped me. By the time she got done, my food got cold.

"I have to go," Aizawa says getting up. "I have to do a rescue activity with my class so I'll have to leave the building," he says, digging into his pocket. "Here," he hands me his car keys, "I'll find a way home so take these." Aizawa sighs as I keep on looking down and puts a hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry I got angry at you. I was just worried."

I look up at him, "Be careful."

"Whatever happens, be on guard and be careful...please." I say and he looks at me weirdly.

I'm sorry.... I can't say anything else.

Aizawa left and I got up, walking out of the room and dumping my food into the trash can. I go to the rest of my classes and right when the bell rings for dismissal, I go to Aizawa's car. The second I get in the car and shut the door, I start feeling tears going down my face and start hitting the wheel.

Damnit, damnit, damnit! What the fuck do I do?! I can't just go to the USJ and be all like, 'ummm, yeah, can you not villians. I actually care for this hobo and he's my guardian, so I would really appreciate it if you wouldn't smash his pretty face.' Yeeaah, I don't think it would go very well.

After my little temper tantrum, I go to the apartment and crash on my bed.

"Tsuna! Open the door!" Tsukauchi pounds on the door. "Ok, ok, damn! What do you WANT?" I get off my bed and rub the sleep from my eyes. I then open the door to Aizawa's apartment.

"It's Aizawa... come quickly," Tsukauchi says panting from running up the stairs and hitting the door a bunch of times. "I know," I say, putting on my shoes fast and shutting the door behind me. Tsukauchi starts to walk away but stops, "What? How?" "I already told you how," I say walking past him and down the stairs. "Oh, you did."

I can't stop pulling at my shirt throughout the whole car ride to the hospital.

"I tried to warn him," I suddenly say and Tsukauchi turns his head over to me fast. "WHAT?!" He yells and the car swerves almost hitting the car next to us. He turns his attention back to the road and fixes "I only told him to be on guard and be careful! That's it!" I yell back and gripping the side of the door out of fear of almost getting in a car crash. "I didn't tell him anything else because I don't want to mess up anything else," I say letting go of the door, "I already messed up a lot."

Tsukauchi takes a deep breath in and releases it out, "I think it's time." "Time for what?" I ask and he takes a moment to answer. "To tell Aizawa."

---

Here is the link to all of the chapters

Link to next: Chapter seven: Bandages and Books

[neyaa-animations]

Bro explained me in two seconds 😭😭

FRRRR and we no matter what we need to accept it

[musedriven]

@erxsxre memed // losing you is my worst nightmare.

a weakness, he cannot help but think. his programing still the dominant way of thinking as evident by the smog still surrounding him; hiding all traces of the wispy cloud he once was though it's been easier for his old self to poke through lately. his own weakness brought out by the very friend whom he died for.

" I... " he hesitates, collecting together his thoughts on the revelation. " I will attempt to ensure such things do not come to fruition. " he says simply. his voice so similar and yet so different. the hint of a blue eye is visible past the glowing gold smog of the mask he wore. you already lost me once, Sho. i'm so sorry...

[herostoried]

Shouta knows that the world he's ended up in isn't the same one as home.

But it still stings to see Izuku Midoriya standing across from him - a villain.

Even Shouta's surprised at how much his chest aches as he looks at him; meeting his eyes with a gaze that's heavy and tired. He can't help but feel like he's failed Midoriya somehow... despite having never known him in this world, he'd always thought that if there was anyone who'd never be capable of villainy - it would be this boy.

The very fact that he was wrong makes him wonder how well he ever truly knew him. It's an irrational thought, and Shouta's well aware of it, but even so... did his Midoriya ever have doubts? That possibility is scarier than it has any right to be. Because, deep down, try as he does to suppress it... Shouta knows that he's been having doubts, too.

And if even Izuku couldn't face them, does Shouta even stand a chance?

"Why'd you show your face here, kid?" he asks, tone as dry as ever, but there's something exhausted in his tone, too. He wonders what kind of relationship the Shouta here had with this Midoriya - if he ever tried to save him, or wrote him off as just another villain.

"You know I can't just let you go now."

@vsagis ( starter! )

[starconchs]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐒— bakugo katsuki

pairing: pro hero bakugo katsuki x gn reader summary: when aizawa calls and asks for a personal favor, bakugo is ready to expect the worst. genre: strangers to lovers, fluff word count: ~7k warnings: mentions of stalking, nothing happens, you take care of it notes: sorry if he's ooc, take this more as a character study. just a little test to see how i feel when writing for bakugo. description of quirk left super vague, literally just a mention of it being helpful. not proofread sorry ummm rushed too

When Bakugo Katsuki gets a call from Aizawa, he doesn't know what to expect.

There's a brief moment of silence when the call connects, and Bakugo feels himself tense slightly when Aizawa does not speak immediately. He's the first to give in, gruffly greeting his former teacher and being met with nothing but a sigh in return.

"Bakugo," Aizawa starts, his tone dull and tired. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, but i need you to do me a personal favor."

Another moment of silence ensues as Bakugo processes his request. He knows he can say no, but there's something about the fact that Aizawa— the man who has been through everything with him and his former classmates, fought with them and for them, and stood up for him when he was kidnapped by the League of Villains—personally calling and asking him that makes him hesitate before answering.

"Fine," he finally says, already thinking about how he's gonna tell Shitty Hair— Kirishima! he hears Mina correcting him in his head— that he might be out of commission for a few days. "What do you need me to do."

"Just show up when I tell you to," Aizawa says in response. "Maintain a high level of secrecy. Don't tell anyone where you're going. I'll send you the address. See you soon."

Aizawa hangs up before Bakugo can respond, and he mutters a series of curse words under his breath before tossing his phone into his duffel bag and leaving for his agency.

Three days later, Aizawa sends him an encrypted text.

Aizawa's text leads Bakugo to a fancy looking apartment complex close to Izuku's agency. When he knocks on the door of the apartment number provided, he's met with none other than Izuku himself.

"What are you doing here, you fucking nerd?" Bakugo asks, his words harsh and biting as he pushes past him and into the apartment.

"I invited him," Aizawa replies tiredly, trying to stop the fighting before it can begin. "This apartment and the other safe house are in the area that falls under his patrol route, so I thought it'd be a good idea to keep him in the loop."

"You're already pulling one of Japan's finest heroes off the streets for this stupid case, is it really necessary to get another involved?"

Bakugo turns when he hears someone new speak, his eyes narrowing when they land on you and an angry looking woman tapping away on her phone.

He knows who you are, used to seeing your pretty face plastered on advertisements and magazines throughout the country. You're a well known singer who dabbles in acting, someone he's tired of hearing about from the group of idiots he calls his friends. An irritated huff escapes his lips and he finds himself thinking about all the times he protected celebrities when he was still a new hero on the scene, and how they turned out to be nothing more than spoiled brats.

"You and Anya both know this case isn't stupid," Aizawa says patiently, shooting you an unreadable look. Bakugo waits to see how you react, studying you as you exchange a look with the other woman— Anya— and pull the blanket on your lap closer to you. Aizawa ignores the two of you, instead choosing to take the time to remind you, and reveal to the other heroes, what exactly he has called them there for. "There is a stalker out there following your each and every move. Do you understand that? And they've already proven that they will stop at nothing to get to you."

"I know," you say softly, your eyes never leaving Aizawa's. "But I can take care of myself. C'mon, you trained me yourself."

There's a moment of silence, and Bakugo thinks that Aizawa might give in. He's wrong.

"No. Hizashi and I have already decided that Bakugo will be keeping an eye on you for the forseeable future and he has agreed to do it. And Midoriya has agreed to keep an eye out during his patrols as well."

Bakugo waits for it. He braces himself and waits for the pettiness and childishness that he's seen displayed by other big names when they don't get what they want. He waits for the yelling, the waterworks, maybe even the sight of you throwing something at Aizawa. But it never comes.

Instead, you nod and stand before turning to face him, letting him catch a glimpse of the frown on your lips and defeat in your eyes before you bow deeply.

"I apologize for the inconvenience."

"O-oh! No, please don't bow," Izuku immediately says, waving his hands in an attempt to grab your attention. "That's not nec—"

"Don't gimme that shit," Bakugo interrupts, crossing his arms. His comment earns him a strangled noise from Izuku, but his gaze doesn't leave you. "Stand the fuck up and tell me whatever else I need to know."

He thinks he sees you biting back an amused smile at his words, but you quickly school your features before you let yourself fall back onto the couch. Aizawa lets himself settle into the seat next to you, a smile ghosting his lips when you reach for a mug of coffee on the table and hand it to him.

"It started a year ago," Aizawa begins. Anya walks around the couch, picking up a thick folder from the table and handing it to Bakugo. He starts looking through it, eyes scanning every individual item before passing it to Izuku. There's letters of varying lengths and pictures of you from all angles, accompanied by the occasional police evidence photo of what he assumes to be gifts you've received.

"I would receive sporadic letters, at first," you add, your voice tired and quiet. "We thought it was regular fanmail, y'know? But then things started getting weird. They would mention specific things that I'd do on my days off, or ask what I was making with the groceries I had delivered to my door on a certain day. They never signed them but the police confirmed that the handwriting matched, so we know it's one person."

"We assume it's one person," Anya corrects, earning a tired sigh from Aizawa. "We don't really know anything about them."

Her words cause you to furrow your brow, and you sigh softly before looking back up at the Pros. Bakugo's eyebrow raises when he comes across a hospital record for a Yamamoto Anya, and he angles it slightly to show Izuku.

"You were in the hospital?" Izuku asks softly, green eyes scanning the report before turning to face the two of you. Anya nods firmly but remains silent, crossing her arms before perching on the arm rest of the couch next to you.

"Anya's my manager, and my best friend," you explain, clasping your hands together. "As I said earlier, at first the incidents were sporadic. Then we went to the police to ask them to investigate. We don't know how, but the stalker found out and things started getting weirder. There were anonymous gifts being received to the apartment I have under a different name and I was receiving texts from an untraceable number. We still don't know who the target was, but the night of the Tokyo Music Awards, there was an attack."

"Wasn't that last week?" Izuku asks, looking through the file to find the corresponding police report. "It was all over the news. They said that some small time villain had attacked but that there had been enough Pros working security for the event and that it had been taken care of without issue."

"That's what we told them to say," Aizawa reveals. "In reality, it was targeted. We don't know if they intended to kidnap or to injure but things got out of hand and Anya was caught in the crossfire."

"The goal was probably to injure so I'd be easier to kidnap," you say, snorting in amusement when Aizawa sighs at your words.

"Who apprehended the villain?" Bakugo asks, unable to find the name on the police report.

"No one did, but I went after them," you admit. "I almost had them but they slipped into the crowd and got away. I returned to check on Anya and then Aizawa arrived and whisked me away. I've been here since."

"You were stupid enough to go after your stalker?" Bakugo growls, eyes shooting up to glare at you. You open your mouth to respond, only to get cut off by him "You trying to get fucking killed or something?"

A huff escapes his lips when he feels Izuku elbow him harshly, and the two of them turn to face you when you breathe out a laugh.

"Or something," you mutter, earning a swat to the back of the head from Anya. You grab her hand and toss it into her lap, only to turn and be met with a disappointed look from Aizawa. You wilt under his gaze, sighing in defeat and motioning for him to continue.

"The plan is to send you two to a safehouse, still within the city, while Midoriya and I investigate," Aizawa explains, pulling out a scrap of paper and handing it to Bakugo. "That's the address. Unfortunately, you can't just disappear off the face of the earth until we catch the stalker. There's still public appearances and interviews that need to be done, but you need to be hidden during these outings, Bakugo. We fear that if the stalker catches wind of the fact that we involved Pros, that might drive them to do something even more drastic."

Bakugo grunts in acknowledgement, unfurling the scrap of paper and studying the address written on it before glancing at Aizawa. "Can I show this to the nerd?"

He nods in response, and Izuku takes a moment to also memorize the address before nodding. The paper is gone within a second, a tiny, controlled explosion reducing it to ashes. Your eyebrows raise with interest at the display, and Bakugo meets your gaze with a scowl. It deepens when you don't immediately cower from his stare.

"The two of you should get going," Aizawa notes, glancing at his watch before standing and tossing a set of keys to Bakugo. You stand as well, taking a moment to stretch before plucking your cell phone from the couch cushion. You turn to Anya, giving her a smug look that makes her groan.

"You should just go ahead and cancel the rest of my appointments for the week. It would be unwise for me to go out in public before coming up with a surefire way to stay safe when out and about," your words are said a little too happily, and you nearly glow with joy when Aizawa contemplates your words before ultimately nodding in agreement. Anya gives you a scathing look, her hand tightening around her phone as you grin. "Let me know who agrees to reschedule! I hope no one's too upset."

The snicker that leaves your lips draws an unwilling smile from almost everyone in the room, and you swoop in to steal a hug from Aizawa before coming to a stop in front of the Pros. There's a bright smile on your lips that makes Izuku blush, and Bakugo scoffs audibly when you give him another bow.

"It's an honor to meet you, Deku. Thank you for doing this."

"Please! Call me Midoriya," he sputters out, cheeks still tinged pink as you turn and face Bakugo. There's a twinkle in your eye when you meet his gaze, and he feels a spark of irritation when he realizes that you don't seem to be intimidated by him.

"Well Mr. Dynamight, shall we get going?"

Bakugo's annoyance only grows when you manage to keep up with his quick strides.

No words are exchanged as you traverse the street, and Bakugo makes sure to keep an eye out as he opens the door and ushers you into the passenger seat, his hand pushing your head down roughly to keep you from smacking it on the roof of the vehicle. You slide into the car smoothly, buckling your seat belt and glancing around as you wait for Bakugo to get in. Silence engulfs the two of you once he does, and Bakugo finds himself reaching for his phone to play some music and fill the stillness. He feels a blush crawling up his neck when one of your songs plays, the new one that Kaminari insisted on listening to the other night when he drove him home after drinks.

A smirk tugs at your lips but you don't say anything about it, thankfully, and he finds a song he likes and plays it before taking off down the road. You're quietly humming along to the song he's chosen as you look out the window, and it isn't until you're halfway to your newly assigned safe house that you speak.

"I'm not, you know?"

That's the only thing you say and Bakugo makes a confused noise before he can stop himself, his hands tightening around the steering wheel in annoyance when you let out an amused laugh.

"I'm not trying to get killed," you clarify, earning a derisive snort from Bakugo in return. "I have a hero license, I was just doing what I've always been taught to do. Apprehend the villain."

Your admission catches Bakugo off guard, and he can't help but throw you a surprised look when he finally comes to a red light.

"You're a hero?" he asks, his curiosity winning him over.

"Mhm," you reply absentmindedly, still looking out the window. "Technically. I attended U.A., believe it or not, but I wasn't in the hero course. Aizawa and some other teachers trained me and he managed to pull some strings in order to have me take the licensing exam in my third year. He said it was better to have it just in case. Between us, I think he got even more overprotective after Nemuri, Midnight, passed."

Bakugo remembers attending the funeral after All for One had been defeated. It had been a deceptively happy day, sun bright and shining as the students, staff, and other heroes gathered to pay their respects to the fallen. He remembers a student standing next to Aizawa, their hand in his as he held onto what was left in the battle: her mask.

"She was my legal guardian, but she made sure to leave me under the care of someone she trusted just in case something ever happened."

And it did, goes unsaid.

Bakugo's left with more questions than before, but he refuses to give into his curiosity and actually ask. It isn't long until the two of you arrive at yet another upscale building, and hum quietly to grab his attention once more.

"Can I have your hoodie?"

"What the fuck? No!" is his immediate reply. There's an unpleasant look on his face, lips twisted up in what seems to be a cross between disgust and offense. "Why the fuck would you even ask?"

You give him an unimpressed look, raising an eyebrow before holding your hand out. "Listen, call me paranoid if you want, but I think it'd be a good idea for me to hide my face as we enter the top secret safehouse."

Bakugo grumbles and curses as he slips off his sweater, pissed off at the fact that you were right. His anger only intensifies when he realizes that he didn't think about that first. You waste no time in slipping the sweater over your head, pulling the hood as far forward as it can go and slipping on a pair of sunglasses. It's only then that you slip out of the car, waiting for Bakugo to get out before heading towards the entrance.

The two of you head into the elevator, and when you reach out to press the correct button, you manage to catch a whiff of a sweet, smoky smell. You turn your head to the side as the doors close, lifting the collar to your nose to see if it came from the sweater or somewhere else.

"Are you sniffin' my fucking sweater?" Bakugo asks roughly, pulling your arm back down to your side. You let out an offended noise before wrenching out of his grasp, leaning against the wall and shooting him a withering look.

"I smelled something sweet and I was curious!" you defend yourself, tilting your head back slightly to look down at him. Bakugo feels his blood boil. "I can't believe someone like you smells so good."

"What's that supposed to mean!" he nearly yells, taking a step towards you. You don't deign to give him a response, instead slinking out from beside him when the elevator finally comes to a stop. There's no hesitation in your steps as you walk past various doors, finally coming to a stop at the end of the hallway and wiggling a key into the lock.

Bakugo trails in after you, locking the door and growling when he's met with a sweater to the face. There's an innocent smile on your face as you slip off your sunglasses, placing them down onto the coffee table before traipsing down the hallway. Bakugo starts his usual sweep around the space, making sure to send a text to Aizawa to let him know the two of you have arrived safely.

"Your bedroom is at the end of the hall," your voice calls out, earning a grunt in response. "Mine is to your left and the bathoom is across from my room. They already came and dropped our stuff off!"

Bakugo's eyes narrow when you walk back into the living room, a mass of fluff held in your arms. "What the hell is that?"

"This is Pickles!" you proclaim proudly, holding your arms out. There's a fluffy cat in your hands, and she lazily eyes Bakugo as she hangs in the air. Your smile falls when Pickles twists, jumping out from your hold and beelining towards Bakugo. "Pickles, no! I'm sorry, she's wary around strangers so I'd recommend backing away if you don't want your pants scratched."

Your words fade out towards the end of your statement, your jaw falling slack as you observe the way Pickles approaches Bakugo and proceeds to rub against him. She snakes in between his legs, meowing softly and pawing at his shoe as she waits for him to pay attention to her.

"You little attention whore," you whisper, your face twisting up in disbelief when Bakugo kneels down to pet her. He shoots you a smug smirk when she starts purring, and you feel your eye twitch when she lays down, exposing her belly. "She took forever to warm up to me. How did you do that?"

"I'm just the best," Bakugo replies cockily. "Even she knows that."

"Whatever, I'm going to take a nap. I can cook dinner later if you'd like," you say softly, reaching up to rub at your eyes.

"I can cook my own damn food," Bakugo snaps, his attention shifting to you. You breathe out a laugh.

"In that case, I think I'll turn in for the night. I'll leave my door slightly open for Pickles."

"Don't be a dumbass, you have to eat."

"I'll just get up early and cook breakfast," you shout, already disappearing from sight as you make your way to your room. "Good night Mr. Dynamight!"

"It's Bakugo," he grumbles under his breath as you duck into your room. A laugh is all he gets in response, and your room goes dark as you finally settle into bed. His attention is caught by small meow, and he sighs before picking Pickles up and petting her. She curls up against his chest, swatting at his hand and making a pleased noise when she manages to grasp it between two of her paws. He looks down at the cat, raising a brow when she decides to start gnawing on his finger.

"Just you and me hairball."

The two of you fall into an admittedly easy routine throughout the rest of the week.

Bakugo's surprised by how easy this assignment has been. He's used to stubborn celebrities demanding to be let out, complaining and whining and overall just annoying him until he snaps and curses them out. However, you're a quiet housemate, waking up early to cook breakfast for the two of you before retreating to your room for the rest of the day or lounging on the couch with Pickles. Bakugo takes it upon himself to cook dinner for the two of you, and whoever is in charge of lunch is always decided with a coin toss. He loses more often than you do.

Pickles becomes a frequent presence as well, and sometimes he wakes up to see the cat curled up peacefully on the pillow next to him. How she gets into his room, he doesn't know. When he emerges from his room in the morning with her gathered in his arms, you apologize profusely, your stare lingering on the way his lips curl up into a tiny smile when you take her from him.

You inform Bakugo early on in the week that Anya has listened to you, canceling all of your prior engagements and sending you an updated schedule for the next week. He squints when you hold your hand out, cell phone in hand as you prompt him to take it.

"Mr. Dynamight, give me your number."

"It's Bakugo," he grumbles, pushing your hand away from him. "And why the hell would I do that?"

"So I can send you the schedule," you huff, extending your arm once again. He obliges reluctantly, purposefully taking his time in an attempt to annoy you. You don't react to his provocation, instead smiling sweetly at him when he hands your phone back and sending him the file.

When you begin to send him memes, he refuses to acknowledge you for the day.

The two of you spend days successfully planning how to keep you safe during your public appearances, your combined experience making the task easier than you thought it'd be. Your first week back out in public goes well, and even though you know better than to let your guard down, the knowledge that Pro Hero Dynamight is watching you from a distance helps to soothe your nerves. Your routine remains the same for the following week, during which there is an incident, but it turns out to be an overexcited fan. You then beg and beg Anya to book less appearances until she gets fed up with your fake crying.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you hate your job," Bakugo mutters one evening while making dinner. "You keep brushing off all your stupid engagements and you won't have a fucking career to go back to."

"Good thing you know better," you say playfully, your eyes glinting with mischief as you approach him. Your arm brushes against his back as you peek around him, your hand darting out to grab a slice of the strawberries he's cutting up to eat with lunch. He's too slow to stop you, not that he really tries to.

He finds that his original irritation towards the assignment has faded, and even though he misses being out on patrol and taking down bad guys, he thinks that this mission isn't the worst. Or maybe it's because of you. It takes Bakugo weeks to admit to himself that you're not as bad as he thought you'd be. In fact, you're not anything like what he expected you to be, all sly smiles and snarky words and casual touches that he's too embarrassed to reciprocate. But he doesn't like you, no, he doesn't.

You like to think he's getting used to your presence, but his occasional aloofness makes you think otherwise. There's a part of you, the side that's trying to ignore the reason that resulted in being assigned to a safe house in the first place, that enjoys your time spent with Bakugo. You like the way he's so easy to rile up, the way he carefully plates food for both of you, and the way he smiles when Pickles demands his attention. You think that maybe, just maybe, you might like him, even if everything else about his attitude makes you think he doesn't even tolerate you.

But you're too preoccupied with your ongoing case to really sit with your thoughts and try to sort out your feelings.

Updates from Aizawa and Midoriya are few and far between, and although you and Bakugo have fallen into a comfortable routine, you can tell that he's getting fed up with the situation. His restlessness is obvious, especially with the news talking nonstop about his sudden disappearance and speculating on the reasons why Dynamight might've stopped doing his duty as a hero.

"How long do you think this will continue?" you ask one night, sneaking a peek at him and waiting for his snarky reply.

"I dunno," he responds, sounding defeated. He sighs heavily and turns the television off.

He watches as you purse your lips and reach for his hand, pausing when he instinctively pulls away. There's a brief pause before you take a deep breath and let your hand fall on the sofa. He glances at you, eyes scanning your face as you keep staring at the blank screen, and lets his head fall back and eyes fall shut as he mentally berates himself for his actions. You head off to bed soon after, and Bakugo remains there for the rest of the night.

The next morning is quieter than usual, and the two of you are eating breakfast when there's a knock on the door. You waste no time in prancing to the entrance, reaching for the doorknob before a large hand grabs your wrist.

"Don't open the fucking door," he hisses, pulling your hand down. You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head in an innocent manner.

"Why not? It's only Midoriya."

"What?"

You reach over and open the door with your other hand, only to be met with a sunny smile from none other than Pro Hero Deku.

"Kacchan!" he exclaims, brightening up even more at the sight of his childhood friend. "I'm here to swap."

"What?" Bakugo bites out again. Midoriya's smile falters.

"Uh, swap. Places, I mean," he explains, smiling when he looks back at you. "I thought you said he asked?"

"Asked what?" Bakugo growls, his hand tighetning slightly around your arm.

"Yeah! He did," you respond just as cheerily. Bakugo goes ignored.

"Hey! Listen to me when I fucking talk to ya!"

"Come on in, we were just eating breakfast. Would you like any?" you ask. Midoriya shakes his head and you promptly wiggle your arm out of Bakugo's grasp and usher them into the living room.

"What is the shitty nerd doing here?" Bakugo yells, fed up with the situation.

"He's here to take your spot! Remember, Mr. Dynamight ?"

"I already told you, it's Bakugo," he snarls, eyes narrowing as they fall onto you. Your smile is unfaltering and equally as sunny as Izuku's was when he first arrived. He spares a glace at the other Pro Hero in the room, taking note of the way he nervously wrings his hands as he studies the two of you. He doesn't excuse himself before taking ahold of your arm once again, dragging you down the hallway and into his room before slamming the door.

You take a moment to glance around his room, your eyes narrowing when you spot Pickles curled up on his bed, before finally meeting his eyes. There's a fire in his eyes that you've only seen before when he's mid-battle, reserved for situations where his anger is at an all time high. You meet his gaze evenly, and he seems to calm down slightly when make a questioning noise.

"What the fuck was all that about?" he asks harshly, his voice low in order to not be overheard. The walls are thin, he knows this.

"I thought you'd like to return to your hero duties," you say coolly. "Y'know, patrolling and beating up baddies."

"Listen, when I agree to a job I don't plan on doing it half-assed," he retorts. He wonders if your sudden encouragement for him to leave has to do with his actions night before… and the rest of the week. He knows it does. "You're stuck with me, sweetheart, whether you like it or not. So get out there and tell Deku that you changed your mind and that I'll be seeing this task until the very end."

You don't move for a few seconds, and Bakugo's eyebrows furrow in confusion until he realizes the way you bashfully averted your gaze at the nickname. The corner of his lip tugs up into a smirk, but he doesn't get the chance to comment on it before you start speaking.

"Your reputation and ranking are tanking because of this and it's not very fair to you. Besides, nothing has happened in weeks. No letters, no gifts, no suspicious activity. I'm sure it'd be fine to switch spots with Midoriya for a couple of days. And I thought you were getting a little tired of staying in here all day. Maybe getting out and seeing your friends would do you some good."

Bakugo takes a deep breath before closing his eyes. "I already told you, I'm not leaving you until this assignment is done. Go out there, and tell Deku you changed your fucking mind."

"Yeah, about that," you say, your tone of voice causing Bakugo's eyes to fly open. There's impish smile on your face, and Bakugo feels a sense of foreboding as you speak your next words. "I might've told him that you requested the swap. So really, it's you that has to go out there and tell him you changed your mind."

You laugh and head back to the living room before Bakugo can yell at you, smiling softly at Midoriya before heading to the kitchen to clean up the abandoned plates.

Bakugo groans and begrudgingly heads to the living room, dragging Izuku by his collar and leading him to the front door.

He shuts the door in his face and provides no explanation.

Things are different after that.

Bakugo makes a bigger effort to interact with you, spending move evenings by your side instead of keeping his distance. Slowly but surely you begin to notice, and you can't help but wonder if this has anything to do with your discussion in his room the previous week.

You try not to show that you're flustered when the two of you begin to cook together instead of taking turns, and you have to admit that sharing the kitchen with Bakugo is intimate in a way you never knew cooking with somebody else could be. His movements are always fluid, never hesitant, and you find that you fall into a groove when you work alongside him.

The space is full of teasing and grumbling as well, and you find that fleeting touches between the two of you start to become more common. There's the occassional hip check when he tries to steal a piece of whatever you're chopping, and the occasional hand skimming your lower back when he tries to get past you in order to reach something. You tend to go rigid under his touch, and Bakugo finds that he starts doing it a little more often in order to hear the way your breath hitches when his fingertips skim over your shirt. He's thinks he likes you.

You’ve had the time to sit with your feelings, all the swirling uncertainty and aching that you feel weighing down on your heart when you see Bakugo present you with a new dish or scoop Pickles up when she won't stop pawing at his leg. Bakugo Katsuki is so perfectly imperfect, and you think that there's no one in the world who is privileged enough to get to see every single side of him that he has unintentionally and intentionally bared for you to see in your short time living together. You find that it is much easier to come to the conclusion that yes, you do like him. You think you might even love him.

You don't get the chance to wonder if he likes you as well before it all goes to hell.

It's a few days later, on a sunny Wednesday, that you finally come face to face with your stalker.

"Alright, you have one more meeting after this and then we can get you back home," Anya says, hurrying you you of the building you were in and towards the car. You mumble something under your breath, holding your sweater tightly to your body to protect yourself against the afternoon chill. Anya stops by your side when you stumble to a halt, and you quickly grab onto her when you hear something approaching quickly. "What's going on?"

You waste no time in pulling her back, something— someone, you vaguely think— crashing into the spot where you had just been standing.

"What the fuck?" Anya whispers, taking in the sight before you. There's a man standing in front of you, close to your age and surrounding by dark tendrils. His sharp, green eyes slide from Anya to you, and he breaks out into a smile before taking a step forward. Anya places herself in front of you, blocking you from his view and earning a harsh glare from the man. "Get the hell away from us."

You quickly scan your surroundings for any sign of Bakugo, and even though you know he's close by, you can't help but feel a little anxious when he doesn't immediately show up. A movement in your peripheral catches your attention, and you tighten your hold on Anya and dive out of the way before one of the dark tendrils shoots out and incapacitates her. The two of you crash into the side of the car, and you waste no time in opening the door and shoving her inside.

"Stay there!" you tell her, motioning for her to stop trying to open the door.

"No!" she argues, her shouts muffled by the window. "What about you?"

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Just trust me," you say reassuringly. Anya hesitates before nodding, her hands falling to her side.

"Stay safe. You better not get fucking hurt!"

You nod once, taking a glance to see your stalker getting closer before you take off in a sprint in the direction you know Bakugo is. You whip your phone out, sending quick 'SOS' to Aizawa before turning a corner. You don't bother sending your location, knowing he's probably been tracking you for years.

The sound of footsteps following you only spurs you on, and you try to think of a game plan to deal with the situation in a safe manner before you feel something wrap around your wrist. You come to a sudden stop when the tendril pulls you back, and you let out a cry when you stumble and fall to the ground, your knees knocking harshly against the concrete.

"I've been looking for you for so long," the man breathes, kneeling down to take your hand in his. You resist the urge to tear it away from him, conscious of the way the tendril seems to loosen when you relax. "I finally found you, we can finally be together."

You take a moment to study him, trying to gather your thoughts before responding. Your voice is light as you speak, and you lean forwards slightly in an attempt to make it seem like you're giving in. "We can. But you're hurting me, you know? You're quite strong, I can't believe I didn't realize it soon."

He takes the bait, retracting the tendril and almost glowing at the words that leave your lips. His lips part to respond and you waste no time in head butting him hard enough to send him sprawling. You hop to your feet, stumbling briefly when your bruised knees almost give out, but you manage to keep your balance and dodge the tendril your stalker attacks with.

"You bitch!" he screams, earning an eye roll from you as he tries to grab ahold of you once more. "I don't know why you're doing this when it's clear we're meant to be together!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you say under your breath, lunging forwards to land a hit. He defends poorly, and you think that his strange obsession with you has come in handy when he refuses to strike back in fear of hurting you.

When Bakugo lands on the sidewalk in front of you mere seconds later, he's met with the sight of your stalker face down on the ground, unconscious and with hands creatively tied behind his back with your sweater as you stare at him smugly. A tired laugh leaves Bakugo's lips and he wastes no time in removing the sweater, slapping on a pair of quirk canceling handcuff onto your stalker and moving to lean him up against the building behind you.

"Took you long enough," you chirp, earning a glare from Bakugo.

"I can't believe you were stupid enough to go after your stalker," he states, his words reminiscent of the ones he said when he first met you. "Actually, scratch that. Yeah, I fucking can."

"Well it's not like you were doing anything," you retort, crossing your arms. "Where were you?"

"I had it under control," he barks, motioning to the area around you. You take note of Midoriya standing on a rooftop, a couple of detectives scattered down the street as they wait for Bakugo's all clear.

"Oh!"

"What happened here?"

You turn when you see Aizawa approaching, eyes tired but alert as they scan you for injuries. You beam at him, pointing towards the unsconscious criminal before gesturing to yourself to show that you're fine, other than your bruised knees. "See! I told you I could handle myself."

"Yes, I suppose you did," is all he says before turning to Bakugo. He's caught off guard when Aizawa bows deeply. "I'm eternally thankful, Bakugo. You did a great job, even if it turned out we didn't need your help after all."

The last statement is said mockingly, and you pout when Aizawa shoots you a pointed look. You ignore it in favor of turning to Bakugo, bowing as well.

"I already told you, don't gimme that shit," he spits out, crossing his arms when you straighten up and give him a shit-eating grin.

"I just wanted to give you my thanks," you say, a teasing lilt to your voice as you take a step forward. Aizawa grunts before walking away, shaking his head as he goes. "Although I suppose that there are other—"

"You're safe!"

Anya's screams interrupt you, and you give Bakugo an apologetic look as she pulls you away, fussing over you and bending down to clean off your knees. You smile fondly as she shoves a water bottle into your hand, stealing one last glance at Bakugo before he's whisked away by the detectives to make a statement.

A week passes and Bakugo hasn't stopped thinking about you.

He wonders how often he'd get to see you now that he's not watching over you, grimacing when he realizes that he'd probably only see you at hero galas and community fundraisers that might overlap with both of your schedules. The two of you have exchanged a few messages since the mission ended, lot of memes being sent from your end that make Bakugo laugh, not that he'd ever admit it.

He's wondering if he should build up the courage to be more direct with you, to possibly follow up on how you could thank him and then ask you out on a date when he hears a knock on his door.

"Hey!" you greet him when he opens the door, bright smile on your face as you shove a bag into his hands. "I hope you don't mind but I got your address form Aizawa. I was thinking I could cook you dinner, you know, as a thank you."

His jaw is hanging as he takes you in, and you snicker when he doesn't respond.

"Hey, what's wrong? Pickles got your tongue?" you laugh at your own joke, and Bekugo snaps his jaw shut at the words, ushering you in and shutting the door behind you.

"That was a shitty joke."

"Eh, can't expect everyone to get my sense of humor."

He shakes his head fondly as he follows you into his kitchen, and you take the bag you previously pushed into his arms and place it on the counter. You look at him expectantly raising an eyebrow teasingly as he takes a step closer.

"So this dinner,” he starts, tone casual as he drinks you in. “Is it a date?"

"Do you want it to be?" you respond. Your voice is quiet and light, and he finds himself crowding you against the counter, arms on either side of you as he cages you in. You're vaguely reminded of the time the two of you argued in his room at the safe house, the only difference being the look in his eyes. Where there was anger that day, this time you see nothing but an unfamiliar tenderness, eyes warm as he mulls his answer over.

"Yeah," he says roughly, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you look at him in mild surprise. "I do want it to be."

“I didn’t think you’d admit it,” you retort. The smile he receives in return is almost blinding, but he feels that familiar sense of foreboding when you suddenly give him a coy look and wrap your arms around his neck.

"So... does this mean I'm... Mrs. Dynamight?" you ask innocently.

"Shut the fuck up," he groans before finally leaning down to silence your giggles with a kiss.

ty for reading <3

[kimkaelyn]

Ditto [s. todoroki]

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀, 𝑜𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜 — 𝒟𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜, 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈

→ summary: when you transferred to U.A., you didn't anticipate slipping on a pair of chopsticks in the middle of the crowded cafeteria during your first week. however, what was more surprising was the unexpected fall for the boy who gracefully caught you.

→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers

→ word count: 13.1k

→ warnings & tags: sfw, female pronouns are used, usage of y/n l/n, Class 1-A are now third-year students aka 18+, swearing, the usual U.A. chaos, reader has a Quirk, misunderstandings, some training violence, minor injuries, mentions and discussions of insecurities, aizawa briefly belittles the reader as a form of motivation, beginnings of a panic attack but it's cut short, there is one instance of the reader appearing to be ‘flushed’ in regards to a fever, since this is my first bnha fic some characters might be ooc? | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!

→ author's note: AHHHH HERE IT IS! I've been working on this for almost a year now and I am so excited to finally share it with all of you. Honestly, I didn't think I would ever finish this story, but I kept slowly chipping away at it thanks in part to the encouragement from @andypantsx3, @missrosegold, and @getstarried. Special thanks to @pikatsum for beta-reading this for me! Thank you girls. This is for you🫶🏻

The cafeteria at U.A. High School was a pretty chaotic environment, you quickly learned within your first week after transferring from another Hero Course in the countryside. There were multiple things that could and would happen after the famous students had gotten some much-needed nutrients in their systems.

It was only three days into the school year and nothing had happened just yet, but in the U.A. world, that something was overdue.

The first chaotic event of the year that everyone had been anxiously—or in some cases, excitingly—waiting for happened on Thursday.

The day started off average; you got to school with three minutes to spare, which was a new record, but you had forgotten your pencil pouch in your dorm room, so you had to borrow some pencils from a girl who sat in front of you; Mina Ashido.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the pastel pink utensil from her. There was even a cute little fluffy puffball at the end in exchange for an eraser. Good thing you had an eraser in your bag.

“No problem! I gotcha!” She physically lit up and gave you a bright smile before turning back to focus on the blackboard.

You somehow managed to get through your morning classes running on the four hours of sleep you got the night before. You were cutting it quite close to passing out at your desk during calculus class, but you were saved by the lunch bell.

As soon as you stepped foot into the hallway, you were wrapped up in the faint, delicious scent of your favorite food coming from the cafeteria. Your mouth instantly watered, and you made a mad dash for the source of the delicious scent.

“Hey!” a sharp voice made you freeze in your steps. You glanced over your shoulder to find Tenya Iida, Class 3-A’s representative, glaring at you. The light reflecting off his glasses made him appear more threatening than he really was, but regardless, you still found yourself shying away from his harsh glare and rapid-moving hands. As they passed by, some students gave you apologetic smiles while others were not shy about openly staring at the scene before them, wondering what you possibly could have done to induce the wrath of the student representative. “There is to be no running in the halls!” You cowered some more at his brisk and overly formal tone.

Geez, what a stuck-up, you thought to yourself.

“My apologies, Iida.” You respond with a bow. He accepted your apology with a curt nod before he continued on his way to the cafeteria.

You waited for him to pass before rising from your bow. “Wow, he makes it feel like I broke the law or something.” You mused aloud.

“Don’t take it personally,” a comforting voice said from behind you. You turned to find Momo Yaoyorozu, Ochako Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui standing before you. Ochako gave you a slight wave in greeting. “Iida can be quite demanding,” Yaoyorozu reassured you.

“Thank you.”

Tsuyu regarded you with gentle onyx eyes. “It’s L/N, right?”

You smiled, happy that she remembered your name from roll call. “Y-yeah! I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I, um, already know who you guys are.” You suddenly felt shy, and you bashfully rubbed the back of your neck out of nervous habit.

Before your transfer was finalized, you did extensive research into your future school’s history and future classmates. Thankfully—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—a lot of information is public knowledge; the various attacks on the school in the year leading up to and the conclusion of the War between the Paranormal Liberation Front and the Heroes, not to mention the various televised sports festivals, and the fact that the members of Class 1-A are practically household names even before their graduation.

The girls invited you to sit with them in the cafeteria. You had been keeping to yourself the first few days of school, choosing to observe from afar the already established social circles and friend groups. You had waited for an invitation to join one of said groups, and here was your opportunity.

The four of you made small talk as you made your way through the lunch line and to the table. Right away, Asui told you to call her by her given name. You told them about your life growing up in the countryside—with you and Uraraka bonding over your shared reason for becoming Pro Heroes—about the friends you had, embarrassingly funny stories from your junior high days, and eventually what led you to transfer to U.A.

“Well, this is the best Hero Course in the country!” you all laughed. “But to be frank, the only teacher at my old academy who could handle my Quirk retired, and none of the other academies within the prefecture had the resources to help me advance. Plus, my mentor is an U.A. alumnus, so naturally, the only other choice was U.A.”

Yaoyorozu hummed. “It is a shame about your mentor retiring, but that is what led you to transfer to U.A., and for that, I am grateful.” The class vice representative regarded you kindly. “I am a firm believer of things happening for a reason, and your transfer doesn’t change that.”

Uraraka nodded her agreement. “Momo’s right. U.A. is a place where anybody can make a difference, and I think you will find success here.”

You were rendered speechless. The tips of your ears turned red as your classmates regarded you with so much hope and sincerity in their eyes. “Uh . . . I,” you bashfully scratched the back of your head. Not knowing how to respond, you instead reached for the small bottle of milk on your lunch tray and brought it to your lips.

However, before you could take a sip, a BOOM erupted from the front of the cafeteria, accompanied by a gruff voice yelling, “Don’t walk in front of me, Icy-Hot!” You reflexively jolted at the loud noises and lost your grip on the glass, spilling the half-full bottle all over the front of your uniform.

“Shit,” you exclaimed as you instinctually rose from your seat, only to quickly sit down again when the liquid started to fall to the floor. The girls gasped and were quick to hand you all the napkins in the vicinity.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Asui asked as she watched you pat down your sodden skirt.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You waved off her concern as you continued to wipe away the remaining liquid. The napkins managed to soak up most of it, but your skirt was still damp. If you didn’t change skirts, you were going to smell of milk for the rest of the day, and you didn’t want to start off the school year with a reputation for smelling vile. “I’m going to go back to the dorm really quickly and change into a clean uniform. Please let Mr. Snipe know that I will be late for class.”

“Do you want us to accompany you?” Yaoyorozu asked. She began to rise from her seat, but you stopped her.

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring grin instead of a grimace. “Thank you for offering, Yaoyorozu, but I’ll be fine.” Before your classmates could respond, you stood from the table and made your way to the exit.

Great, this is just great, you thought as you walked, not really paying attention to where you were going. As soon as I make some friends, I make a fool of myself.

Unbeknownst to you, there was an obstacle in the aisle directly ahead. You were too distracted by your growing inner turmoil to notice the pair of metal chopsticks lying on the ground before you until your foot made contact and slipped out from under you.

It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even react.

Time froze as you became weightless, and you felt your body become briefly suspended in the air. Before you could react and rotate your body to prevent yourself from violently banging your head on the tiled floor, gravity took hold and yanked you back down toward the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness your classmates’ reactions to your misfortune.

Great, now I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of the entire school. Fuck you, chopsticks.

You prepared yourself for the pain of hitting the hard floor but were shocked when you were suddenly wrapped in a chilled warmth. You did slam into a hard surface, but this didn’t feel like the cold tile you expected.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked from above. You opened your eyes, only to find yourself captivated by a beautiful graphite and turquoise gaze. Your mouth opened to respond to the inquiry, but you couldn’t speak. This strange yet calming gaze hypnotized you, causing the rest of the world to fade into a buzzing silence. You watched as the perfect eyebrows of the owner of those magical eyes furrowed downward at your prolonged silence, the action momentarily drawing your attention.

With your attention span no longer zeroed in on the heterochromatic gaze, the world around you suddenly slammed back into your senses at full force. The volume of your fellow classmates’ conversations was deafening at first, but your ears grew accustomed once again to zone them out and focus on the person before you.

It took about thirty seconds for the entirety of your current predicament to register within your brain.

You were hanging about ten centimeters off the ground. The only thing keeping you upright and injury-free was Shouto Todoroki’s firm grip on your wrist.

“Um, hello?” the dual-haired teenager once again drew your attention to him. His grip slightly tightened before he tugged you up onto your feet.

“I think you broke her, Icy-Hot.” A rough voice drawled from your peripheral.

The intrusion of the other voice is what finally brought you out of your stunned silence. “No, I’m okay. Not broken.”

“Did you hit your head?” Todoroki inquired. He steadied you on your feet but didn’t release your wrist from his hold. Katsuki Bakugou was standing off to the side, trying to appear like he wasn’t involved with either one of you.

“I-I don’t think so.” As you reached down to brush yourself off, you caught a whiff of the unflattering scent of old milk emitting from your clothes. You held back your gag and turned to face Todoroki and Bakugou. “I’m sorry to rush, but I really do need to go.” You gave a quick bow. “Thank you for catching me, Todoroki. Bye!”

The two boys watched you sprint away like a bat out of hell. “T’fuck is her problem,” Bakugou muttered. “Fuckin’ extra makin’ me late for lunch.”

Todoroki didn’t respond to his classmate’s remarks. His lips pursed together as he watched you nearly run into a couple of first years before you disappeared around a corner, out of sight.

“Don’ even think ‘bout it, Icy-Hot.” Bakugou drawled from beside him. Todoroki cocked an eyebrow, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise indifferent expression. “Gettin’ involved with ‘hat extra will ruin your precious bloodline.”

You tried to forget about the cafeteria incident, but the embarrassing ordeal refused to secede from the forefront of your mind. As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers a minute, antagonizing and overanalyzing every second of what had happened.

As the night dragged on, your thoughts shifted from the overall event to one single individual: Shouto Todoroki. You knew who he was, of course. You didn’t grow up underneath a rock. Yet, you weren’t prepared for how much more handsome he was in person than on the news or in photos.

You overanalyzed everything he did in the brief two minutes you were blessed to be in his company, every word he said, and every brief flash of emotion that showed in his heterochromatic eyes. Todoroki had tried to approach you after training in Ground Beta once you had returned from the dorms, but you avoided him, not wanting to face him again so soon after the embarrassing first meeting.

By Sunday, you had begun to forget about your embarrassing cafeteria incident. Your newfound friends didn’t bring up the spilled milk, and thankfully, they didn’t see you slip on the chopsticks and fall into Shouto Todoroki’s muscular arms. You breathed a sigh of relief when you found out that last part. You didn’t want them to think you were a total klutz.

Todoroki may think otherwise.

As you were rounding the corner to walk back up the stairs to head back to your dorm room, Todoroki happened to be walking down. You both turned at the same time and walked straight into each other.

He wasn’t fazed by the sudden collision; however, you were taken completely off guard. No matter how strong you may be, suddenly walking into about a hundred kilos of pure muscle would make anyone stumble. While he remained steadily standing, you, on the other hand, fell back onto your ass.

It took about three seconds for the two of you to comprehend what the hell had just happened. You groaned out when pain flashed across your backside.

“My apologies, I did not see you.” Todoroki said as he offered you a hand. You begrudgingly accepted his assistance, face heating as your super handsome classmate helped you to your feet for the second time in a week.

“Thank you,” you bowed your head to him. You brushed away some dust from your sweatpants, finding yourself too shy to look back up.

You felt a firm, yet gentle hand land on your shoulder. You jerked your head upwards to meet Todoroki’s captivating gaze. “Are you injured?” His heterochromatic eyes searched you for any injury, and they glimmered with relief when he found none.

“No, I’m okay,” you reassured the male. “I may be a little bruised in the morning, but I will be fine.” Not to mention my bruised ego.

Todoroki hummed in acknowledgment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. His eyes were hyper-fixated on you, leaving you to feel bare under his intense gaze.

You shifted your weight back and forth as the silence between you dragged on for a couple more seconds. “Um, I—” You cleared your throat. “I should be on my way now. Got things to study, you know.” You told him with an awkward laugh.

You moved to step around him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to move. Your movements are what must have shaken him out of his stupor, with him bashfully stepping to the side to allow you access to the stairway.

“Right.” He said as you walked by. “Take care, Y/N.” You startled at his sudden usage of your given name, but nevertheless, you felt oddly relieved. You smiled shyly and bid him goodbye. Nothing else was said between the two of you, but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the stairs.

I hope he likes cinnamon; you thought as you peered into the oven.

To be fair, you should have considered that before laboring for over two hours making kinako cinnamon cookies from scratch—which absolutely failed. Therefore, as a last resort, you were forced to run to the store and buy a box mix.

The he in question?

Shouto Todoroki.

It had been several days since your embarrassing first interaction with the dual-haired male and forty-five hours since your second, literal, run-in—not that you were keeping track, of course.

You wanted to do something nice for him as a way to apologize for your newfound clumsiness and thank him for his assistance in both instances. Your calligraphy skills were not . . . up to par, so to say, by any means, so a handmade thank-you card was off the table, and you highly doubt Todoroki was a flower guy. Not to mention his affluent background, so buying him a gift or offering to take him out to dinner was null—and way too straightforward for two people who were barely even acquaintances.

Therefore, you were left with only one option: homemade cookies.

Besides, all the old aunties back home always said the quickest way to win anyone over was through food.

“Ooooh, something smells amazing!” someone exclaimed from the stairway. Smiling slyly to yourself, you turned away from the oven to the new arrival.

You hadn’t interacted much with Rikido Sato save for the casual good morning greetings and thanking him for the delicious red velvet cupcake he baked for you as a welcoming gift to U.A.

“Thanks,” you said, grinning at the male.

The combined low mutterings of more approaching classmates brought your and Sato’s attention to the doorway where Mina Ashido, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero were entering the dorm.

“Woah something smells fantastic!” Kaminari said, gazing into the kitchen in hopes of spotting the source of the delicious scent.

“Yeah, it does!” Kirishima agreed.

“Oh my gosh, what is it?” Ashido asked as she walked over. Her eyes lit up when she spotted you. “L/N! Did you make something?”

“I did.” You confirmed with a slight nod. “I’m making kinako cinnamon cookies.”

“Oooooh, yummy!” the pinkette exclaimed as she bounced over to peer into the oven. Your other classmates quickly joined her, all of them staring into the soft, golden light of the oven with stars in their eyes.

“They look so good!” Kaminari was practically drooling at the tawny treats. At that moment, the timer went off with a soft ting! You politely shooed your classmates back as you pulled a hand towel over your hands.

“Step back, everyone,” you warned as you opened the oven door. “They’re going to be hot.” You carefully reached in and grabbed the cooking tray, cautiously sliding it off the rack and fully into your cloth-covered hands. Despite taking precautions, you hissed as the hot aluminum seeped through the towel and made contact with your flesh. As quickly as you could without dropping the pan of cookies, you turned and set it down on the kitchen island.

“These look delicious!”

“Woah, man, they look amazing!”

“I bet they taste as scrumptious as they lo—”

You zoned out the boys’ compliments as you moved to the sink and turned on the tap.

“L/N, are you okay?” Ashido asked as she followed you. Her question caught the other's attention, and they, too, turned to watch you quizzingly.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Your response ended with a wince as your skin made contact with the cool water.

“Here, let me see,” Ashido gestured to your hand. With your permission, she took your wrist with gentle fingers and held it up for you both to inspect. Your skin was reddened slightly, but it wasn’t anything serious. You let out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, thankfully, but we should still put some burn cream on it just in case,” Ashido advised as she turned off the tap.

You nodded your head again and followed the pink-haired girl as she went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Before you walked too far from the kitchen, you shouted over your shoulder to your classmates, “Please don’t eat the cookies, boys! They are still hot and are for someone special!”

There was a noticeable delay in response to your warning. After a pregnant pause, there was a muffled, “okamph!” in response. You were about to turn around and make sure that they weren’t eating your treats, but Ashido calling your name changed your plans.

“Let’s fix you up, yeah?” She said as you both entered the girls' bathroom. Ashido gestured for you to sit on the counter while she dug through the first-aid kit for burn cream.

“Thank you, Ashido,” you said a few moments later as she lightly applied the cream to the worst of the reddening. Your skin wasn’t blistering, which was a good sign, but it was beginning to ache.

“No problem,” she replied. She began to gently rub the cream into your skin, mindful of the sore spots. She beamed at you as she said, “And you can just call me Mina. We are friends!”

You smiled at her. “Okay, Mina.” The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes as Mina continued to dress your burns.

“So,” she started, breaking the silence. “Who did you make the cookies for?”

You sharply inhaled. “W-what? What do you mean?” You tried to play it off by playing dumb, but Mina gave you an are you kidding me look.

“Don’t play that game with me, girl.” She scolded you. “So, tell me, who is this ‘special someone’?”

You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “One of our classmates. . .” You trailed off, turning away from the pinkette, and absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

Mina’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh my God, seriously?!?” She squealed. You turned to face her again. “Girl, you absolutely gotta tell me! Who is it?!” She went to grab ahold of your hands but stopped herself when she remembered your injury. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said. “But, um, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but you couldn’t find them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You said, barely above a whisper, turning away from your classmate once more in embarrassment.

Mina leaned back, taken by surprise by your change of tone. She studied you for a few seconds, her expression falling when she saw the look on your face; the clenching of your jaw.

“It’s okay, girl,” she reassured you. She set the roll of bandages down on the counter as she finished wrapping your hand. “You don’t have to tell me who your crush is if you don’t want to.”

You whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “C-crush?!” you stammered out. “W-what?! I don’t have a crush! I never said I did.” you explained.

“Yeah, sure,” Mina smirked at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t of baked cookies for them if you didn’t like them.”

“Um, because I’m nice?” you asked with a lilt in your voice. Mina does have a point, though, you thought.

Mina laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”

A couple of minutes later, you and the pinkette exited the bathroom, laughing over something Mina had said. Your hand had been expertly wrapped and treated with some burn cream. Your injury didn’t even hurt anymore, but you were still going to check in tomorrow with Recovery Girl as a precaution.

As you rounded the corner to go back into the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes fell to the now-empty pan where twenty cookies sat not even ten minutes ago. Mina stopped next to you, and you could see her giving you a questionable look, but you didn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge her. You just stared blankly at the pan, trying to process what you were seeing.

What the hell? you thought.

“Ah, man,” a voice drawled out. You slowly turned towards the source; Denki Kaminari. He was lounging against the counter as he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. “Those cinnamon kinako cookies were delicious!” Your brain blanked out when you heard that, the organ pathetically trying to comprehend and respond to the current situation.

“You’re telling me!” Kirishima piped up from beside the blond. Sero and Sato voiced their agreement from where they were seated on the couches. “They really hit the spot after the day I had.” The redhead noticed you and Mina. “Hey, guys, welcome back!” he greeted with a wave, a broad smile overtaking his features. “How’s your hand?”

You did not formulate an answer right away, your brain still processing the crumbled remains of your cookies. Your delay didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but before they could question it, Mina came to your rescue.

“It’s okay! Y/N is alright, nothing major.” She informed them. Kirishima’s gaze left you to focus on the pinkette by your side, but Kaminari’s remained transfixed on your blank expression.

“Oh, well, that’s great to hear! I was worried—”

“But you should be ashamed!” Mina cut the redhead off, tone sharp as a blade. “All of you.”

“What—?”

“Mina, why—?”

Kirishima and Kaminari spoke at once, their voices clashing, but the pinkette interrupted them once more.

“Y/N didn’t make those cookies for you.” She said. “She made them for someone special, yet you guys ate them even after she told you not to.” She just about bit the last part out. The boys gaped at Mina, her scolding catching them by surprise.

“Is that true?” Sato asked, rising from the couch to approach you. Everyone fixated their attention on you, waiting for a response.

You hesitated at the sudden limelight, and also in shyness. When you originally set out to bake the kinako cookies for Todoroki, you didn’t expect them to 1.) burn your hand and 2.) for them to be eaten by others. Even though you were upset, you didn’t want the others to be ashamed or scolded. But they did eat them after I told them not to, you thought, pondering your next move.

After a few moments, you squared your shoulders and steadily said, “Yes. I . . . made them for somebody.” At your words, the room’s atmosphere soured. The boys’ shoulders slumped as they realized their mistake.

“Shoot, L/N, I’m sorry,” Kaminari said, stepping forward to gently grab your uninjured hand and bow.

“Yeah,” Kirishima added, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly. “That wasn’t really manly of us.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Sero intoned, looking sheepish.

Sato came to stand in front of you next to Kaminari, who still had a gentle hold of your hand. “I’ll be more than happy to remake the cookies for you.” He said. “If you want that, of course.”

You smiled, though it was closed-lipped. “Thank you, Sato, but not today.” He bowed his head.

Suddenly, the front doors slammed open, startling the six of you. You all watched, shell-shacked—you did, at least—as a fuming Bakugou stepped inside, loudly exclaiming, “I had ‘hat dumbass villain handled! Damn Sidekick extra jus’ had to step ‘n and—” He noticed your little group gaping at him. “The hell ‘re ya fools lookin’ at?” As the words left his mouth, the other two members of the infamous U.A. trio entered as well.

“Kacchan,” Izuku Midoriya said, trying to placate the explosive male. “He was just trying to . . .” The rest of his sentence fizzled into the background as the entirety of your attention span landed on Shouto Todoroki.

It had already been well-established that the youngest Todoroki son was even more handsome in person, but seeing him in his Hero costume did things to you. Your mouth almost dropped open to gawk at his god-like appearance, but you clenched your jaw tightly shut to avoid that catastrophe. Despite that, you were pretty positive your eyes were as wide as saucers, greedily taking every inch of him in as if it were the last time you would see him.

I should sue him for the cost of my medical bills when I develop heart palpitations, you thought.

“Shut the hell up, ya stupid nerd.” Bakugou snapped at a sputtering Midoriya, drawing your attention once more. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Is he always this angry?” you asked under your breath; half-serious, half-rhetorical.

“Oh, yeah,” Mina confirmed, voice just as low.

Sero snickered from his post next to Sato. “You get used to it after a while,” he reassured you.

One of Kirishima’s blinding smiles makes its appearance once again. “Katsuki’s always been passionate about, well, everything.” He told you, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’s who he is. We love him regardless.”

Sato chimed in with, “Platonically.” The boys snickered and Mina rolled her eyes, yet there was a small smile playing on her lips.

“Even though his sour attitude can be harsh and lowkey over the top,” Kaminari began, eyes shining with mischief. “It sure makes him fun to mess with!” Your companions groaned in exasperation and started to voice their reservations.

“No, Denki. Leave him be—” Mina urged him.

“Awe, come on, man. Don’t—”

“Heyy~ Katsuki,” Kaminari crooned, rocking back on his heels as the pale blond’s attention zeroed in on him. Kirishima and Sato facepalmed. “Why have trouble catching a ‘dumbass villain’?” he teased. “Bad day? Your head not in the game?” The hair on your arms rose to attention as an electric charge swept the room, putting everyone on edge. Kaminari’s baiting also drew the attention of the explosive male’s companions. Your eyes briefly met captivating graphite and turquoise, eliciting a sharp gasp to leave your lungs.

“You’re gonna regret the day you were born, dumbass!” Bakugou bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the electric blond, snapping your attention from the hypnotizing gaze. You fully expected him to charge the male, already taking a cautionary step back, but instead of explosions ripping apart the building, Bakugou grunted and moved towards the showers.

Mina turned to the blond and shouted, “Now why did you do that, Denki? You know better than to rile Katsuki up like that!”

Kirishima dragged a large hand down his face before running it through his unruly red locks. “I’ll go check on him,” he announced before jogging after the sandy-blond. You were at a loss for words as you continued to watch your classmates scold a shit-grinning Kaminari, not even the tiniest bit remorseful for his teasing of Bakugou.

“Please don’t take Kacchan’s rashness to heart.” A new voice piped up. You turned to meet the electric green gaze of none other than Izuku Midoriya, the new generation’s proclaimed Symbol of Peace. “I’m s-sorry, I don’t think we have properly met. I’ve been in and out of campus lately—with missions and such.” He practically skipped over to stand in front of you. He smiled brightly as he gently took your hands in his large, calloused ones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m so happy you are here at U.A.!” he excitedly exclaimed, lightly squeezing your entwined hands. You couldn’t hide your wince and small gasp of pain as Midoriya unknowingly squeezed your burns. The green-haired male let go of your hands so fast as if he was the one burned instead of you, eyes growing wide. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” he asked, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your hand. Midoriya’s frenzy caught the other's attention, and all eyes were on you yet again.

The tips of your ears grew hot at the unwavering attention from the Heroes-in-training—especially from a certain icy-hot male who made your heart falter in its beating. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered as you met each of your classmate's gazes, trying to reassure them of your stability.

“What happened?” Todoroki inquired, eyes hawkishly zeroed in on your face.

“U-um, well . . .” you trailed off, words fading from your brain as you slightly cowered under his unwavering attention. “I—”

“She burned herself while baking kinako cookies,” Sero spoke for you, having caught onto your growing anxiousness. You didn’t miss Todoroki’s eyes narrowing at the black-haired male’s words. Sato and Kaminari made noises of agreement, the blond absentmindedly rubbing his stomach in content.

Midoriya’s eyes shined. “Really? You did?!” He looked behind you to the kitchen, eyes searching for the aforementioned treats. “Where are they?” he asked when he didn’t spot any, only a plate littered with crumbs. He turned his attention back to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but a wave of shame overcame you as your eyes once again met those of the one you had made the cookies for.

Mina noticed your hesitation, giving you a knowing look as she answered for you. “The three idiots to your left ate them all,” she said with a little bite to her words, glaring daggers at the culprits. “After they were specifically told not to.” She reaffirmed. The boys shuddered at the reminder of their disobedience. The pinkette turned her attention back to the green-haired and dual-haired males. “I patched her up, though. The burns are minor.”

Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “You should still see Recovery Girl,” he instructed, unashamedly expressing his concern for someone he had just properly met. “At least let her take a look at it.”

“I’m going to stop by to see her in the morning,” you reassured him, words coming back now that your mind was a little clear. His shoulders slumped in relief.

“You should rest, Y/N.” Todoroki’s searing gaze trailed over your form, calculating eyes searching for any additional outward signs of injury or discomfort. “After suffering an injury, no matter how insignificant, rest is important.” He softly chided.

“R-right.” You stammered out, at a loss for how else to respond to your handsome classmate's concern other than compliance. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at that moment. Your feet stumbled as you became lightheaded for a split second. You noticed the dual-haired male take a step towards you, catching onto your sudden exhaustion, but you quickly rightened yourself. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You’re not exactly sure why you thanked him, or what for. His concern, perhaps? He subtly nodded as you turned from the small group, breathlessly mumbling some sort of farewell and something about retiring to your room for the rest of the day.

The others muttered their goodbyes as you made your way to the stairwell.

As you walked up the stairs, head hung low, your throat began to burn and your vision began to blur with tears. The first one fell when you reached your floor, quickly followed by a couple more. You wiped them away, sniffing, as you made your way to your door. You didn’t react to the sudden presence next to you and the weight draped around your shoulders.

Mina didn’t say anything, only traced comforting circles into your back as tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

The next day, you and your classmates were gathered outside Gym Gamma for an impromptu training session. You were surprised that Class 3-A still regularly trained together, but in your defense, that assumption came from someone who didn’t have many options when it came to sparing partners up until your transfer—a major shortcoming in retrospect.

“Today we are working on ‘last stand’ combat.” Mr. Aizawa drawled in his natural I Don’t Give A Fuck tone. “Close-quarter combat in which a violent assailant has obtained the upper hand and corners you in an attempt to defeat you.” He proceeded to explain the instructions of the training exercise and pair the students into groups of four who would take turns being the Heroes and the assailants.

“Midoriya will be with Jirou.” Mr. Aizawa intoned, briefly glancing at the two students to confirm they heard. “Todoroki will be with L/N.” Your muscles stiffened when you heard that. Your heart began to race as you watched the red-and-white-haired male make his way over to you.

“H-hi,” you greeted him, giving a soft smile.

“Hello,” he said, politely inclining his head. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here.” You said before facing forward once more as the first group began their round. You and Todoroki observed the match in silence, with you paying extra attention to your classmates’ movements and taking mental notes of how they incorporated their Quirks into hand-to-hand combat.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Expecting the new additions to be Ochako and Asui, you turned to greet them with a warm smile but paused when instead of your friends, Midoriya and Kyoka Jirou were standing next to you, both with warm expressions on their faces.

“Hi!” Midoriya greeted with a wide smile and a small wave. “I’m excited for this training exercise! It’s going to be so cool to see everyone’s improvement with hand-to-hand combat over the break! And any new moves! Or Quirk Awakenings! Or—” You had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying as it turned into a stuttering rant as he went on about each individual’s Quirk.

The rumors were true regarding his ramblings, you mused to yourself, wondering how long he could go on for before a small hand on his shoulder made him take pause.

“Midoriya,” Jirou intoned. “Calm down.” His cheeks flushed a bright red. He began laughing nervously while absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.

“S-sorry,” he said, shyfully.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I agree with your stance, though. Observing others' skills is an effective way to improve your own. Get an idea or two.” You turned your attention back to the ongoing training, taking mental notes of your classmates’ fighting stances and their defensive moves, trying to get a better understanding of the why behind them. You pulled a small item from your jacket pocket, absentmindedly rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger. The movement caught Midoriya’s attention.

“What is that?” he asked, green eyes alight with curiosity.

“What? This?” You held up your good luck charm; a small, pink parrot keychain from a popular cartoon series you had won years ago at one of your hometown’s summer festivals. It was lucky because at the moment, while little you were trying to win, your Quirk had manifested. “It’s my good luck charm,” you explained the pink parrot’s value to you.

“Oh, cool!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You know, I used to have a good luck charm—it was my super rare exclusive All Might trading card! First edition!” His eyes shined as he reminisced. “I would bring it with me everywhere! Even Kacchan—”

“Deku,” drawled a low voice from the other side of your gathered class. The temperature fell as Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed onto Midoriya. “Don’t say another word.”

“He’s such a fanboy.” Jirou chuckled, fondness seeping into her voice. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, not bothering even to try to deny the label. You spent the time until your group’s turn getting to know the two, quickly finding out that you and Jirou share the same taste in music; vowing to swap playlists after class. You were so caught up in your conversation that you almost forgot about Todoroki's presence, if not for the awareness of a body next to you. His chilled warmth seeped into your muscles, causing you to relax one moment, and tense up another.

“Are you all right?” he softly inquired, spying your tensed posture.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You replied, softly smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Just a lil’ nervous, is all.”

Todoroki frowned slightly, not understanding how you could be experiencing anxiousness. “Wh—?”

“Oh yeah!” Midoriya suddenly interjected. “This is going to be your first time demonstrating your Quirk, huh?” he asked you. “Or at least this is gonna be the first time I will see it. What is it again? Object—no—um, yeah, anyway I bet it is awesome!” His eyes still shined with his enthusiasm and curiosity. “Sometime you gotta let me ask you about it! I have so many! Does it work like Ochako’s Zero Gravity? Or Yaoyorozu’s Creation?”

You couldn’t help but give a small laugh at his eagerness. You had never met someone as enthusiastic about Quirks as Izuku Midoriya. It was kind of refreshing to interact with someone as passionate as he was.

“Kind of,” you began, silently pondering over what you know of the brunette’s Quirk and comparing it to your own. “Ochako and I have the same limitations when it comes to the weight of an object, but besides that, our Quirks are different.” Your Quirk was object manipulation; you could telepathically manipulate objects within a certain range. To you, your Quirk wasn’t all that—wasn’t anything unique by any means—but to others, you were seen as a powerful goddess. “To be honest, I’m lacking in hand-to-hand combat skills.” You sheepishly smiled.

“Really?” Midoriya asked, blinking in shock. “I thought your previous school would have prepared you for all types of situations.” Jirou nodded her agreement with the green-haired male. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shouto continue to observe you with a calculating expression on his face.

“Unfortunately, no.” You shrugged. “Their curriculum was more focused on improving the individual’s Quirk than learning how to fight without it.”

“Oh, wow,” Jirou said. “That could put you at a great disadvantage down the line.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why—” You were cut off by Mr. Aizawa calling for your group to begin your training round. “Welp, this is it, I guess.” You chuckled nervously.

Midoriya gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great!” he said, giving you a thumbs-up accompanied by a warm smile.

“Do your best,” Jirou added before moving towards the training pitch.

You started to follow, but a cool hand on your shoulder made you pause, shivering softly. You turned to find Todoroki giving you an expectant look. “You’ll do fine,” he said, confidently. He looked as if he put his entire faith in you. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

You felt a surge of confidence fill you at his words. You gave him a determined look. “Right,” you said. “We got this.”

You swear up and down his eyes twinkled when he looked at you, but it could have been a trick of the light. “You got this.” He replied, softly. The two of you walked into the pitch together, side by side.

The training went . . . not terrible, but it could have been better on your end.

Todoroki, Midoriya, and Jirou were amazing. Even without using their Quirks, they each were a force to be reckoned with. You were captivated by how swiftly they moved—as if they were ballerinas performing Danse des Petits Cygnes.

You weren’t on the same level as them and the rest of Class 3-A. You knew that, and you acknowledged it, but to see and be confronted by it so bluntly in person made you feel a whole other level of embarrassment and shame. You weren’t weak by any means, you could hold your own in a fight for some time, but not like your classmates could—and had.

Perhaps that is what separates you from your classmates. They have battle experience. Hell, they fought in a fucking war for crying out loud while you were on the other side of the country, guarding civilian shelters. You were fortunate not to see much bloodshed, but maybe that brought you to a disadvantage against these future Heroes surrounding you.

The horn had sounded as Jirou pinned you in the dirt for the sixth time, signaling the end of the round. You heard the sounds of Midoriya and Todoroki’s scuffling come to a halt from somewhere off to your left as Jirou lifted herself off of you. She offered you a hand as you began to rise from the ground. You accepted her extended hand with a grimace as the muscles in your back burned.

“Nice work.” Mr. Aizawa said as the four of you approached. “You performed adequately,” he addressed Jirou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. He turned to you. “You, not so much.”

You flinched as the words landed home. Damn, you thought, but he’s not wrong. You had naively allowed yourself to believe that Eraserhead wouldn’t call out your inferiority, at least in front of others. Then again, he was Eraserhead—infamous for his bluntness and apathy.

“Your skills are greatly lacking in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued. “I haven’t seen somebody so physically inadequate since your classmates were first years. Coming from another Hero Course, especially one with its reputation, it’s to be expected that you’re not up to par with your new classmates, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” As he spoke, he never broke eye contact with you, scrutinizing you. Even with one eye, his unrelenting gaze made you feel as if he could see every minuscule detail about you. “Based on the performance I saw today, it was a mistake to put you in this class.”

You heard a gasp from one of your classmates; its owner unknown. You gulped down your shame and remained silent. You had a feeling Aizawa wasn’t finished with you.

“From here on out, I expect you to train harder and push yourself further than anyone else. Extra training, extra classes—anything that will make you catch up.” His eye narrowed. “If I do not see substantial improvement in one month, you will be expelled. No exceptions.”

Your eyes widened, but your shock did not stop you from replying. “Yes, sir.” You said, keeping your tone neutral as you mulled over his words. Although extreme, I understand the reason for Mr. Aizawa’s methods, you thought. He’s right though. I’m far from even scrapping the level these guys are on. I need to be more disciplined and work even harder if I want to stand on equal ground with my classmates. Resolve made, you promised, “I will go Plus Ultra!”

“Yaass, Y/N!” Mina cheered. “Woohoo!”

Aizawa didn’t say anything else to you, promptly dismissing the class. Midoriya praised your performance and commented on his wish to sit down and talk in-depth with you regarding your Quirk. You promptly accepted his request, telling him you would let him know when you were free. He smiled before walking off to join Iida and Ochako.

“If it means anything,” a voice suddenly intoned from behind you. You spun around, having not sensed the person's approach. You weren’t all that surprised to find Todoroki there, softly regarding you. “I think you did well.”

You scoffed but smiled softly. “Thank you, but you don’t have to patronize me. I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up.”

“You will,” he declared, before quickly clarifying, “Catch up. Especially with my help.”

You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”

“Should I repeat myself?” he inquired, his heterochromatic eyes swimming in mirth. “I will assist you in your training and classes.”

You didn’t respond right away, regarding him with suspicion. You waited for him to name a condition for his help, but when he offered none, you relaxed. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You inclined your head. “I greatly appreciate it.”

“Shouto,” he corrected.

You blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”

“Shouto,” he reiterated. “You may call me Shouto. We are friends, are we not?”

You gaped at him for a moment, processing his words. “Ye-yeah!” you said a little too loudly. “We are friends, Shouto.”

The small smile that graced his lips lit up your entire world and caused your heart to speed up, pounding almost painfully against your ribcage. “Meet me here tomorrow after class.” He instructed.

“Tomorrow.” You repeated in confirmation.

His smile grew a little wider. “See you then, Y/N.” He said before turning on his heel and strolling away. You watched him go in a daze, in disbelief of what just occurred.

“Oooooooo, Y/N’s gotta date!”

You shrieked at the sudden voice and spun around for a second time to find Mina standing there, hunched over laughing at your reaction.

“Mina!” you shrieked, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

She continued to laugh. “Sorry,” she said once her laughter died down. “You were so entranced with Todoroki that you didn’t even realize I was here!”

“Oh, yeah right.” You responded, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you began to walk to the dorm. “I wasn’t entranced with him.”

The pinkette gave you a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you ain’t lying to me.”

You scoffed but didn’t attempt to refute her claims. You put your hands in your pockets and looked to the ground, lost in thought. Mina didn’t say anything else, allowing you both to walk in silence.

The next afternoon, you met Shouto at the training grounds outside Gym Gamma for your first tutored training session. He regarded you kindly as you slowly approached, suddenly feeling quite bashful.

“Thank you for offering to do this, Shouto.” You said when you arrived. “It really means a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

“There’s no need for repayment.” He softly responded. “I volunteered to assist you. Therefore, no repayment of any sort is necessary.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience you—”

His soft call of your name made your next words die in your throat. “I assure you, this is fine.” He said. “Your company and attention are substantial enough.” You felt your face warm at his admission. Shouto gestured towards the training pit. “Shall we begin?”

He started by teaching you some stretches that are supposed to help decrease sudden muscle spasms and strengthen them. Afterward, he had you show him the little knowledge you had of hand-to-hand combat to gain an idea of where you stand in regard to U.A. training. Once you had demonstrated the few kicks and different styles of punching you knew, you turned to judge Shouto’s impression.

Your breath caught at what you saw.

His handsome features remained stoically blank for the most part, but the pursing of his lips and slight furrowing of his brows spoke a different tale. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like they didn’t prepare you at all, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure.

“Shouto?” you inquired, voice slightly uneven as your mouth formed the syllables of his name. “Is everything alright?”

His beautiful eyes snapped to yours, and once again you were frozen by the intensity with which he looked at you. His gaze was calculating, and you could just about see the cogs turning in his brain as he silently regarded you. A couple long moments later, his lips parted on an exhale and he finally addressed you.

“We have a lot of work to do.” He declared. “But we already knew that.” You slowly nodded your head, curious as to where he would be going with this conversation. “Thankfully, you’re not completely helpless,” he intoned dryly. “Even though you don’t have many skills regarding physical, non-Quirk combat, I have identified several places where we can start, correct, and then build on.”

You steadied yourself, resolve firmer than ever before. You declared, “I’m ready.”

Shouto gave a quick, but detailed, overview of his plans for your ‘training tutoring’, you referred to your sessions as. He was going to teach you everything he thought you should know—which was everything he knew—in order to successfully become a Hero people could rely on.

The two of you began by improving your physique. You joined him on his early morning run along with Midoriya and Bakugou, who welcomed you with contrasting fervor. When you met for your afternoon training, you would run five kilometers before learning various grades of combat moves, and then concluding your time together by sparring.

It was established early on that neither of you would use your Quirks during your tutoring as the two of you were well-adapted to your respective Quirks—and the strict rules regarding their usage.

For the next several weeks, you worked tirelessly on your training, and your dedication and hard work paid off. At your end-of-the-month assessment, Aizawa was pleased by your rapid and exceptional improvement and announced you could stay at U.A. He also informed you that it was never his intention to expel you in the first place, but nevertheless, he was impressed by your efforts.

You and Shouto continued to grow closer as time went by. You still had your training tutoring sessions in the afternoons, and you became a regular on his early morning runs. You even hung out outside of class and training; preparing pre-workout meals and drinks together, and various study sessions at all hours of the day and night. Once, you even packed him a small canister of his favorite brand of soba noodles for lunch one of the weekends he was interning at his father’s Agency. When he came back to the dorm after his shift, he made a beeline for you and promptly informed you that from then on out, you would be solely responsible for packing his lunches.

“Now why would I do that?” you implored. You crossed your arms, awaiting his response. “Are you gonna pay me?”

Shouto slowly blinked at you in the way a cat would. “Why would I compensate you for an action you chose to do?”

You had no retort for that.

As you spent more time together, you noticed some changes. Shouto would stare at you for seemingly no reason, and whenever you called him out on it, he feigned innocence. He also sought you out more often, insisting on walking to your next class or to and from the dorm by your side. He even began to occupy you on your shopping runs, dutifully holding your bags for you. And whenever you would thank or compliment him, his whole demeanor would light up as if Aphrodite herself had shown favor towards him.

You weren’t any better, though.

If Shouto would do so much as even blink in your general direction, your heart would soar and butterflies would take flight in your stomach. At first, you brushed it off as nerves for being the subject of the Shouto Todoroki’s attention, but you were in denial, not wanting to admit what was actually occurring. Looking back, you realized that deep down, you had known all along what was happening, but at the time, you weren’t ready to admit it—to yourself and him.

Regardless of your rebuttals and lack of admission, you were falling for your dual-haired classmate, hard and fast, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

3 months later . . .

“Y/N! It’s starting! You’re gonna miss it!” Ochako shouted from the couches, the other girls of Class 3-A surrounding her, all dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the class's annual Girl’s Movie Night, which was held every couple of months. Tooru told you earlier that week that they would like to have it more often, like once a month, but given their hectic and ever-changing schedules, the girls had to settle for every few months. They took turns who got to pick out the movie. It was Mina’s turn this time. True to her nature, she selected an early 2000s chick flick set in the States.

“Hold on, wait for me!” you hollered back as you finished pouring the freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl, a few kernels spilling out as you whirled on your heels to sprint into the living area. You nearly tripped over Jirou’s legs as you practically threw yourself towards the last remaining free spot on the couch.

“Ah, sorry!” you exclaimed as you settled yourself into the cushions, checking over Jirou and your popcorn bowl. “Did I miss anything?”

“No, it’s just starting,” Momo said, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the opening credits began to roll.

“Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite movies!” Mina squealed next to you. “Have you ever seen it before?” she asked.

You hummed, acknowledging her question. You thought hard, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen the characters on the screen before. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”

The pinkette gasped aloud and theatrically placed a hand on her chest, sprawling backward. “Y/N! You wound me!”

Across the room, Tooru piped up from her spot next to Asui. “How could you not have?! It’s only one of the greatest movies ever made!”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Ochako interjected. “Gonna have to disagree.” You expected them to start arguing back and forth over what is truly the greatest movie ever made, like your friends back home would have done, but they don’t. Mina stuck her tongue out at Ochako before turning back to the movie.

You all watched the movie in relative silence, save for the light background noise of popcorn moving around in a bowl and slurping from a now-empty straw. It was nice, peaceful; a well-deserved and appreciated respite from the grinding hustle of being Pro-Heroes-in-training.

“Just confess already!” Jirou shouted at the screen as the main character allowed another opportunity for them to confess their feelings for their classmate slip through their fingers. “Gosh!” A corner of your mouth curled at her irritation. A few grumbles of agreement sounded from the others as the movie continued playing.

You had to stifle your laughter as the main characters continued to pine after one another, completely oblivious to the other’s growing feelings. I can’t believe there are actually people in the world who are like them, you silently mused. It’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe they don’t see it.

“Ugh, the anticipation and pining is killing me!” Tooru cried out, her slippers moving frantically in the air as she kicked her legs.

Asui raised a brow. “I thought you’ve seen this movie before?”

“Well, yeah, I have,” the invisible female said. “But the suspense still gets to me!”

“It is quite intense.” Ochako agreed. “I hope they confess soon. It hurts to see them think the other doesn’t return their feelings.”

“I don’t understand how they cannot.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. The girls turned to look at you as you continued, “I mean, they’re so obvious.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda annoying at this point,” Jirou mumbled.

Mina snickered. “Y/N, as if you’re one to talk.”

You gave her a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, come on. You’re so obvious, too, with your crush—”

You cut her off, “I do not have a crush.”

“You have a crush?” Asui asked. You and Mina responded at the same time.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, she does.”

“What is this about?” Momo inquired, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.

“Nothi—” you began but was swiftly interrupted by the pinkette next to you.

“Y/N has a crush on Todoroki!”

The girls gasped and gapped at you, eyes wide.

“I do not!” You said, face burning as you tried to mitigate the situation. “We’re not like that!”

“Oh my.” You thought you heard Momo say under her breath, but you couldn’t really hear since Tooru started shrieking with glee.

“You guys would be the cutest couple!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her spot on the couch and racing over to pull you into a tight embrace.

“I mean, it does make sense given they spend so much time together.” Ochako mused, a finger on her chin as she considered the situation.

Asui jumped on the bandwagon with, “Oh they are definitely into each other.”

“One hundred percent,” Mina agreed.

“Girl, you gotta spill the tea!” Tooru exclaimed as she pulled away. “Tell us everything!” The others voiced their agreement.

“I do admit, I am curious as to how this relationship came to be,” Momo vocalized, setting her tea cup down onto its saucer. “That is if the two of you have gotten that far into your companionship.”

You blinked at the midnight-black-haired woman, shock clouding your brain for a moment as you processed her words. “Um, n-no. We aren’t in any type of r-romantic relationship.” You clarified, but immediately you could tell certain people thought your answer was complete horse poop. “We aren’t!”

“Regardless, you guys are pretty close,” Ochako interjected. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “And all the extra training you do together.”

“The early morning runs,” Asui added.

“Okay, okay,” you threw your hands up in a placating manner. “I understand what you guys are trying to get at, but you’re wrong.”

Mina came to stand beside you, giving you a knowing look. “Girl, Y/N,” she began. “You can try with all your might to deny it, but it’s obvious what is really going on between you and Shouto.” She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And I know you know it, too.”

You stared at the pinkette, pondering her and the other’s words. You wanted to continue denying what they were saying, but you were getting tired of denying your feelings to yourself. You slumped your shoulders, the tension leaving your body as you resolved to come clean with the truth—to yourself and your friends, besides a certain dual-haired male. “Alright, fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, mentally preparing yourself for their reaction to your next statement. “I like him a little.” You confessed, looking at the floor, too afraid to meet any of their gazes.

The room was dead silent for two breaths before Mina erupted in choking laughter. “’A little’? Yeah RIGHT!” She laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her pink cheeks. After she managed to calm down a bit, she turned to face you fully, laying a hand on your knee. “Girl, you’re lying to yourself.” She told you, tone light yet serious. “We have all seen the way you look at Shouto—” the others nod in confirmation. “—and your eyes tell it all.”

You flinched as embarrassment flooded you. “Is it really that obvious?” you asked. You turned to the others to gauge their reactions. “Am I?” They all nodded.

“Definitely.”

“For sure.”

“We could see it from a mile away.”

You gasped. “Oh my,” you covered your face with your hands. “Do you think Shouto knows?”

“I doubt so,” Momo said. “Shouto is quite intelligent and a formidable force to be reckoned with, but as I’m sure you’re aware, his experience and understanding of social concepts and cues are fairly limited.”

“In other words,” Jirou interjected. “He’s none the wiser.”

You released a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker or something.

“Hey, give him some credit, guys,” Ochako remarked. “Todoroki’s more aware than he’s given credit for.”

“Moving on,” Mina said. “Have you thought about confessing your feelings to him?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, shamefully looking away. “No. . .”

“What?!”

“Really?!” Tooru shouted. “But he’s so hot!” The sleeves of her shirt crossed in front of her. “I would do anything to be his girlfriend.”

You laughed. “While you are correct about his handsomeness, I don’t even know where I would begin or how I would confess.”

“Your feelings are valid, Y/N,” Asui assured you. “Confessing one’s feelings for another is a life-changing occurrence.”

“You gotta do it before graduation in a couple months, though,” Ochako added. “If not, then you may never get another chance to do so.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked. “As Pros, wouldn’t we work together often? Why does it need to be before we graduate and turn Pro?”

“Possibly, but with our chosen line of work, there is always a possibility. . .” she trailed off with a grimace.

You understood immediately. “Oh.”

“Although rare in the line of duty, it does happen.” Momo said. “I wouldn’t worry about that though, but I agree with Ochako.”

“Plus,” Mina began, mischief glowing in her eyes. “If the two of you get together before you make your Pro Hero debut to the world, you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with some random civilian he rescues on the street or another Pro.”

You nodded. “You have a point.”

“Either way, I think it will all work out in the end,” Ochako said, her cheeks widening with her smile. “I think perhaps Shouto returns your feelings, and just simply doesn’t know what to do about them or how to address them, therefore you should tell him.” The other girls voiced their agreement.

“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture or anything,” Jirou said.

“Just be honest with him, Y/N,” Asui said.

“Yeah, girl,” Mina added, giving you a warm smile when you met her gaze. “You got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

You squared your shoulders as a burst of confidence filled you thanks to the encouragement you received from your friends. “Okay, I will!” you loudly announced. “I will confess my feelings to him!”

The others cheered as you all held up your lemon water in a faux toast. In your happiness, none of you noticed the shadows shift in the stairwell and the soft noise of retreating footsteps on the wood.

You were screwed.

“How am I gonna tell him!?” you mewled aloud a couple of days later in the cafeteria. You dramatically slumped your forehead on the tabletop, mentally kicking yourself for allowing the girls to convince you that confessing your crush would be an easy endeavor. You felt a reassuring pat on your shoulder. Groaning, you lifted your head from the table to shoot puppy eyes at Ochako. “Ochako, help me!” you cried. “How do I confess?”

The brunette gave you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, Y/N.” She professed, her eyes apologetic. “Proclaiming one's love for another isn’t really my strong suit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Asui mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink, receiving a glare in response.

“Y/N, sweetie,” Mina cooed from your other side. “I think you’re overthinking it a little. It shouldn’t be but so hard. Just be honest with him!”

“But that is hard!” you said, waving your hands in the air. “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘hey, Shouto, I think you’re really hot and amazing. Wanna go out with me?’”

“Sure you can,” Momo intoned, trying to reassure you. “Maybe not in those exact words, but when the time comes, you will know what to say.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. “I hope so.”

As time passed, you found that you did not, in fact, know what to say when the time came to confess your feelings to Shouto Todoroki. Whenever you were near him, you became tongue-tied and could barely speak without becoming a stuttering mess. During each interaction, Shouto would give you a long, confused look, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he watched you struggle for words. He wouldn’t comment on it, bless him, but he must’ve thought you to be a total weirdo.

Yet, he still accompanied you on the walk back to the dorm every day after classes ended, and he insisted on continuing your training sessions every weekend after he finished his shift at Endeavor’s Agency. The two of you grew closer, to your absolute delight, and yet you still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to confess your feelings to him.

Until one day . . .

You were sitting in homeroom during free period, chatting with Midoriya about the latest episode of the rebooted All Might: The Mightiest Man TV series.

“I’m telling you, Midoriya,” you said. “It doesn’t matter how much the animation and special effects have improved, the original will always be better than the reboot.” You crossed your arms and lounged back in your chair, waiting for the forest green-haired male to start sputtering his counterargument. “You can’t change my mind. I will die on this hill.”

“Are you seriously sayin—?”

A call of your name from a familiar tenor drew your attention. You turned towards the source to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. Shouto was making his way to your desk, coming to a stop right in front of you. You had to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he turned his attention to Midoriya next to you. “Pardon me, Midoriya, but I need to speak to Y/N in private.”

You and Midoriya gaped at the dual-haired male for a good twenty seconds before you slowly rose from your seat. “O-okay.” You turned to face your green-haired companion. You hoped your eyes were conveying your inner panic as you said, “Midoriya, I’ll be back.”

All he could do was nod as he watched you follow behind Shouto, wondering why you looked so panicked to go with the male. Maybe you were constipated.

As Shouto led you toward the classroom door, Ochako and Mina shot you curious glances. When you met their gazes, they gave you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, respectfully.

“Good luck, girl!” Mina whisper-shouted.

“You got this, Y/N,” Ochako said. You tried to match her comforting smile with your own, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

You followed behind the dual-haired male, silently wondering what was going on. Once you were outside the classroom, he led you down the hallway to a little corner nook bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.

“Shouto, is everything okay?” you asked, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?” At your inquiry, he finally came to a stop in front of a set of windows and turned to face you.

“Yes, everything is fine.” He reassured you. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

You blinked. “Okay,” you said. “Shoot.”

Shouto likewise paused at your usage of unfamiliar slang but didn’t comment on it. “Um,” he started, but drifted off, not finishing the thought. He opened his mouth only to shut it again after a moment or two without making a sound. You furrowed your brows as you continued to watch him struggle for words.

“Um, Sho?” you prodded. He didn’t respond, however, still thinking over his next words. Shouto never hesitates, you thought with a mixture of wonderment and anxiety. Is something bothering him? you thought with growing concern. You felt your heart come to a skittering stop as another horrifying conclusion came to mind; am I the problem?

“I overheard you and the other girls’ conversation on Movie Night,” he confessed at last, interrupting your spiraling train of thought. He bashfully looked away as if he was ashamed.

“Oh, okay?” you responded, absentmindedly going through the events of the night in question. Your heartbeat began to calm down to a normal rate. “What conversation?” You couldn’t think of anything in particular and were about to ask him to elaborate before the realization hit you like a freight train.

“I like him a little.”

“Okay, I will! I will confess my feelings to him!”

“Yeah, girl, you got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

Oooohhhhh.

Fuck.

Maybe he didn’t hear that particular part of the conversation! You tried to reassure yourself as you waited for Shouto to answer your question. Your heart rate picked back up as panic began to settle in. We were there for several hours. There is so much he could’ve—

“You have an admiration going on.” You hate to admit you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before his formal wording translated into modern speech. You have a crush.

FUCK!

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” you rushed out, trying to save face and whatever friendship you had with Shouto. You felt your cheeks burn. “Please, just forget you ever heard that!”

Shouto snapped his head to you as your words registered in his brain. “Why would I do that?” he asked after a moment. “We live in the same building with shared living space, barely anything is not overheard by another.”

Oh God, how much did he overhear?

“Besides,” he continued. “At our age, it is completely natural for one to harbor feelings for another.”

You blinked at him as his words registered, your cheeks now tingling due to the burn. Gosh, he sounds like a grandpa giving the birds and the bees talk.

“It—it’s j-just,” you stammered. “I-I-I—” You let out a harsh breath in frustration when your words continued to fail you. Shouto raised a brow before his eyes narrowed. Your heart sank when you saw that.

Oh great, he’s annoyed!

“Are you all right?” he asked before moving so he was right in front of you. You squeaked at the sudden warmth of his body heat as he placed a hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? You feel warm, and your face looks to be flushed with some perspiration gathering on your forehead.” His eyes frantically looked you up and down as he examined you for any further signs of sickness. “I should get you to Recovery Girl.”

“N-no!” you exclaimed when he went to sweep you off your feet. “Sh-Shouto, I—I’m fine, really. I’m n-not s-sick.”

“Oh?” Shouto blinked in confusion and, adorably, subtly tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you so febrile? And you are stuttering?”

“It’s not because I am sick. I’m just em-embarrassed.” You whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but look away from Shouto in shame.

“Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed, Y/N?” You shut your mouth, refusing to speak. Shouto sensed your hesitation. The light slowly left his heterochromatic eyes and he bashfully looked away from you. “Is . . . is it because you don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked. “For fear that your crush will see us together and not return your affection?”

You let out a gasp in surprise. “What? No!” You are quick to reassure him—your actual crush—of your intentions. “That’s not it at all!”

Shouto met your gaze again. His eyes lit up with what looked like . . . anticipation? Hope? You weren’t sure, but your heart began to race in trepidation. “Then what is it?”

“I like you,” you blurted out. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide from your drowning embarrassment. “Like, not even a little bit, but, like, really, really like you.” You whispered from behind your hands.

There was no immediate response from the dual-haired male. You didn’t dare to remove your hands from your face to check if he was still standing in front of you.

He probably didn’t hear me. You internally slapped yourself upside the head.

Before you could react, Shouto was carefully removing your hands from your face. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you would crack and break under his fingertips. “Why are you hiding from me?” he whispered. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him.

“I—I.” Despite your efforts, words weren’t able to come out of your mouth.

“You should never feel like you need to hide,” he continued. He let out an airy tsk before he reached his hand up and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up even more at the action. “Especially from me.”

What.

“W-what?” you voiced aloud. You blinked a couple times, trying to bring your brain back from the brink of short-circuiting.

Shouto chuckled lowly, moving impossibly closer into your space. “I think you need to get your hearing checked out, love.”

You blinked some more. “What?”

“Have I broken you?” he asked, the corner of his perfect lips turning up at the thought. “First you forget your words, and now you have lost your hearing. . .” he trailed off as he continued to stare intently into your eyes.

What is he playing at. . .? you wondered as you blankly stared at him.

The two of you stood there and took each other in for quite a while. In reality, it mustn’t have been for very long—at most a minute and a half—but to you, it felt like hours. You were so close you could see the light reflecting in his heterochromatic eyes and the small streaks of gray in the turquoise-colored one.

“I . . . like you, too,” Shouto suddenly confessed, violently snapping you out of the daze his proximity causes. “I have harbored feelings for you for some time now.”

WHAT!?

“You . . . do?” you asked, skeptical. You were hesitant to believe his words in fear that this whole thing was some sick prank. But—

No. Shouto isn’t that type of person, you thought. He barely understands humor as it is, so he must be telling the truth.

“I do,” he confirmed.

“Oh, um.” You fumbled again for words, embarrassment flooding your entire system once more. You licked your dry lips, missing the way Shouto’s eyes locked onto the movement. “Cool.”

Shouto blinked at you, one of his perfect eyebrows raising. “Cool?” he repeated with a sly smile overcoming his lips.

“Mhm.” You dumbly nodded. “Cool.” You paused before muttering a small, “Ditto.”

He chuckled again, subtly moving the tiniest bit closer to you. He was just about crowding you into the corner at this point. “Ditto, huh?” He mumbled under his breath with a widening smirk playing at his lips. “I think I have broken you, dear.”

You grinned. “Perhaps.” Shouto chuckled again before falling silent. The two of you stared at the other, lost in each other’s gazes.

“Can I kiss you?” He spoke on an exhale, his deep voice somehow even deeper. Before you could internally flip the fuck out and fully comprehend what was happening, you were already nodding. That was all the confirmation Shouto needed before he brought your lips in for a sensual kiss. Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as you relaxed into him.

You smiled into the kiss. Thank you, chopsticks.

The next day, you and Shouto walked into the classroom holding hands. Everyone collectively stopped what they were doing to openly gape at the two of you as Shouto, always the gentleman, escorted you to your seat. The shocked silence lasted all but three seconds before Mina and Tooru let out ear-piercing shrieks and practically tackled you.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mina was shouting meanwhile Tooru was holding onto you so tight to the point that she was nearly crushing you into her invisible body.

“AHHHH, I knew this was gonna happen!” she exclaimed before somehow pulling you in closer.

“Can’t . . . breathe.” You wheezed out before your boyfriend pulled you away from the two fangirls and protectively held you to his chest.

“I would be grateful if you didn’t crush my girlfriend to death, Tooru.” He intoned in his naturally dry tenor. His statement only made them freak out even more.

“Ah! Look at the two love birds!” Ochako swooned.

“Fuckin’ disgustin’,” grumbled a deep voice from somewhere in the back of the room.

Before you could turn to shoot Bakugou a death glare, Shouto was already clapping back. “What, are you jealous, Bakugou?”

The desks which had surrounded the blond a moment prior were blown to shiverines.

“I’LL END YOU!”

Fin.

→ extras: snapshot 1, snapshot 2, fic tag

No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing or inserted into any type of AI generator. Do not recommend my work on TikTok. Do not repost on YouTube.

[enbyenvy666]

i just can't

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

based on something i discovered about myself recently 🤭

CONTENT WARNINGS - 18+ MDNI, gn!reader x various, vibrator, reader takes medication (brief implication of poor mental health), reader has trouble coming, no beta we die like men w/c - 0.4k

“I told you, I can’t cum.”

It felt like it was the umpteenth you had to repeat yourself. You loved your partner, you truly did, and you knew he was coming from a good place when he asked you if you finished. He just wanted you to feel as good as you made him, but you couldn’t through no fault of your own. It was a medication you had taken for years, one of the side effects being the inability to orgasm. Sure, it was frustrating at times but it was a necessary evil in exchange for better mental health.

“Are you sure?” He would ask again, already reaching down to touch between your thighs. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” you would always respond, silencing his next argument with a kiss. “You still made me feel amazing baby.”

It was always sweet of him to try, you had rubbed yourself raw many times before, but it was all in vain. That was until he came home and proudly presented a vibrator. It was shaped like a long bullet and hot pink in colour, by twisting the bottom of it the vibrations became stronger, and despite its simplistic design, the way it strongly buzzed in your hand had you impressed. 

Eager to use it, he quickly had you on the bed, naked and moaning. The stretch of his cock had a familiar feeling burning inside you, but you never wanted him to stop. He almost got lost in the moment, fucking into your tight hole and savouring your sweet whimpers made him forget his goal. On the lowest setting, he ran the vibrator over your nipples, giving you a taste of what was to come—down your belly and between your thighs, touching it to every sensitive spot on your sex.

Every jolt of pleasure the toy sent through you had your back arching, tightening around his fat cock still thrusting inside your slick hole. Feeling you squeeze him particularly tight, he held the vibrator on that bundle of nerves that had you breathless, nails clawing down his back. Before you even realised what had happened, you were crying his name as your body tensed and legs shook, feeling as if something in your core snapped and released, your body now sticky with your cum.

His hips stilled, still balls deep inside your guts, and drew the vibrator away, staring down at you with wide eyes. Your eyes were equally as wide, panting to catch your breath. His lips stretched into a smirk, keeping his eyes locked with yours and he turned the vibrator up, bringing it back between your legs. 

It was time to make up for all those years. 

𓍊𓋼𓆏𓋼𓍊 Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima, Izuku Midoriya, Dabi, Hawks, Shota Aizawa, Shoto Todoroki, Lucifer (OM), Satan (OM), Mammon (OM), Solomon (OM), Diavolo (OM), Lucifer Morningstar (HH), Asmodeus (HB)

[fever-dreamer97]

Aizawa: How was your class today, Midoriya?

Izuku: You know how you say that I’m not harsh enough?

Aizawa: Yes.

Izuku: Well, they royally made me mad last week, so I made a test where every answer was C.

Aizawa:…And what did you get?

Izuku: The most panicked and confused faces out of 20 students.

Aizawa: I’m proud in ways I can’t even describe.

[imnotsorryforanyofthis]

Quirkless Advantage

Sorry not sorry

Future book number two!

Yeah...

I'm not sorry...

The second book is going to take me a long time to make, just like this one did.

I hope I can get it done in either July or August.

Update: 8/2/22 I redrew everything because I didn't really like the old photos. It's very similar to the first one, it's just a little better and different.

Also, I did not get it done. I can't really write anything if I don't know what happens to Dabi.

Spoiler!

I have no idea if he's dead or not so I'm just waiting.

Anyways, here's the updated cover photo for the second book.

---

Here is the link to all of the chapters

[blairxbear]

Hit with a Villain’s Sex Quirk & They NEED You NOW!

UA Part 1 / UA Part 2 / Pro Heroes / Villains

They’re desperate, aching, and the only thing that can ease their suffering… is YOU

Featuring Pro Heroes: Toshinori Yagi/All Might, Shota Aizawa/Eraserhead, Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic, Enji Todoroki/Endeavor, Keigo Takami/Hawks, Mirai Sasaki/Sir Nighteye, Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fatgum, Snipe, Shinji Nishiya/Kamui Woods

Toshinori Yagi (All Might)

The moment the quirk hits, he stumbles, gasping sharply.

His body, even in his weakened form, is trembling, aching, overwhelmed with heat.

His usual composure? Completely gone.

“This… this is highly inappropriate… but— I… I need you, my love.”

His hands tremble as he reaches for you, afraid he’ll lose control.

Every brush of your touch makes him groan softly, his restraint slipping.

“Please, darling… I don’t think I can handle this alone…”

He tries so hard to stay composed, but the second you give in?

He’s completely undone.

Shota Aizawa (Eraserhead)

At first, he thinks he can sleep it off.

Nope. Big mistake.

His entire body feels tight, his skin overly sensitive, his breath ragged.

His usual exhaustion is replaced with a desperate, throbbing need.

Catches your wrist when you try to check on him, his grip surprisingly firm.

“…Don’t get too close unless you’re ready for what happens next.”

His voice is lower, rougher, his pupils dilated with hunger.

Grits his teeth, trying to fight it, but every second that passes makes him weaker.

“Y/N… I need you. Now.”

Once you let him touch you? There’s no going back.

Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic)

LOUD about it.

“OH FCK, BABE— I THINK SOMETHING’S WRONG—”*

His voice literally shakes from the need coursing through him.

Can’t sit still, pacing, running his hands through his hair, his whole body buzzing with tension.

Tries to joke through it at first.

“Hey, sweetheart, y-you wouldn’t mind helpin’ your favorite DJ out, huh?” (nervous chuckle, but he’s dying inside.)

His hands shake when he finally reaches for you, his cocky confidence completely gone.

“I can’t… I c-can’t handle this anymore. I NEED you, babe.”

The second you touch him? He’s a goner.

Enji Todoroki (Endeavor)

Immediately clenches his fists, his flames flaring wildly.

He tries to fight it. He hates feeling out of control.

But the heat pooling in his body is unbearable.

“Tch—what kind of quirk is this?!”

Breathing hard, trying to stay composed, but his hands are shaking.

When he sees you? He completely snaps.

“Y/N— come here. Now.”

His usual restraint is completely gone.

Grabs you by the waist, his touch feverishly warm.

“You’re the only one who can fix this.”

Doesn’t take no for an answer.

Keigo Takami (Hawks)

Gasps softly when the quirk takes hold, wings shuddering.

His entire body flushes hot, his feathers ruffling as he stumbles.

Tries to play it off.

“Oh, sht. Uh. Babe? I think we got a problem.”*

Laughs weakly, but his hands are already gripping the nearest surface, his legs shaking.

His pupils are blown wide, his usual cocky grin replaced with desperation.

When he sees you, he immediately moves—

One second, you’re standing still, the next, you’re pinned against the nearest wall.

“Fck, babybird… I need you so bad.”*

His wings twitch as he presses against you, his breath shaky.

You can feel him trembling with need.

Mirai Sasaki (Sir Nighteye)

Grips the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

His usual composure is completely shattered.

His breathing is ragged, his entire body tense, as he struggles to fight the quirk’s effects.

When you step closer, his sharp green eyes lock onto you with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.

“…Don’t come any closer, unless you’re ready to handle the consequences.”

His voice is low, strained, rough with need.

You’ve never seen him look this desperate before.

When you finally reach for him, he exhales shakily, his hands gripping your hips in a bruising hold.

“You’re the only one who can fix this, my love.”

Taishiro Toyomitsu (Fatgum)

At first, he laughs it off, but when the heat really sets in, his smile falters.

His usual soft demeanor is gone—his muscles tense, his jaw clenching as he breathes heavily.

Shifts uncomfortably, his hands shaking as he grips his knees.

“Oh, sugar… I think I got myself a lil’ problem.”

His body feels heavy with need, his heart pounding like a drum.

Looks up at you, his face flushed, his expression desperate.

“You gotta help me, sweetheart. I don’t think I can take much more…”

Grabs your hand, pulling you onto his lap, holding you tightly.

His body is burning with need, and he needs you now.

Snipe

Tenses the moment the quirk hits, his breathing slowing.

At first, he grits his teeth, trying to control himself.

But the moment he sees you? All bets are off.

Steps toward you, his voice husky, strained.

“Darlin’… I ain’t gonna last much longer.”

Tips his hat down to hide his face, but you can see the way his body trembles.

When you touch him, he exhales sharply, his hands gripping your waist.

“You best be ready, sweetheart… ‘cause I need you real bad.”

Shinji Nishiya (Kamui Woods)

Immediately stiffens, his branches curling around himself as he shudders.

His usual control over his body is completely gone.

Grabs onto the nearest surface, his entire body hot and throbbing.

When he sees you, his golden eyes darken.

“…Y/N.”

His arms reach for you before he even realizes it.

Breathing heavily, his body aching, his fingers twitching.

“I— I need you. Now.”

No teasing, no hesitation—he needs you immediately.

Ko-fi / Masterlist

blairxbear © 2024. do not copy, modify, or translate my work. you do not have permission to share my work outside of tumblr!

[pikahlua]

Oh? Please, Madam

What Izuku rejects is the opportunity to be Katsuki's SIDEKICK. He doesn't reject being a hero or competing with Katsuki. He rejects working FOR/UNDER Katsuki. Which is hilarious because Katsuki accepts (apparently multiple times) showing up as a guest lecturer to help out Izuku's class. Katsuki tells Izuku that "If everyone is special, no one is special," which has the potential for SO MUCH DOUBLE MEANING. But what there is no ambiguity about to me is he's basically telling Izuku "Hey, notice this. I'm treating you special. You're special to me. NOTICE."

It's also implied that Izuku sees Katsuki more regularly than he sees most others from their class, which is emphasized by the previous chapter when Aizawa complains to him about Katsuki's behavior in public affecting his ranking. Katsuki basically tells Izuku he needs to start thinking about himself more, and he also ends their final interaction with a "See ya [later]." Katsuki is NOT talking about Ochako, but Izuku takes some of his advice as the impetus for going to talk to Ochako (specifically they just wanna talk more after the dinner since the dinner is now over and they didn't get to talk). So what was Katsuki thinking of? I personally read his "See ya later" as "You'll figure it out, just go handle what you gotta right now and you can catch up to me later."

Hilariously, Izuku calls Katsuki out for being the one to say "If you don't start thinking a little more highly of yourself, you won't notice the things you should." Izuku's response is basically, "Look who's talking." Again, the potential for double meaning here is painfully obvious. He could be referring to SO MANY THINGS and we're meant to infer what that is. WE GET TO GUESS. Izuku could be saying "You did stuff just as bad as what you're saying," or "You're STILL not noticing something, Kacchan."

And Izuku taking inspiration from Katsuki's words to go talk to Ochako is meaningful in another way--IT MEANS IZUKU LISTENED TO HIM. Katsuki is having an influence on Izuku in a way to improve who he is just like Izuku did for him in high school. Izuku takes Katsuki's advice seriously. NO ONE HAS EVER GOTTEN HIM TO UNDERSTAND THIS LESSON BEFORE NOW. It ends with Izuku and Ochako deciding to talk more, but what it shows us is the beginning of Izuku considering himself more. If Izuku follows Katsuki's advice long enough, he'll end up back in the competition with Katsuki just like Katsuki expects him to. That is just as easy of a conclusion to make from the theme of "inevitability" that Shouto gives us (and that Izuku also takes to heart).

This ending implies that inevitably Izuku's gonna catch up again, basically. Things will continue to change. So yeah, we get a beginning where he and Ochako meet up to talk, but it's just a beginning. It's one night of chatting. They're seeing if something's there now (which kind of implies that there wasn't much there before), but it's left open-ended. And I think it's left open-ended what happens with Ochako on purpose because anyone can read how that ends up however they like. You just have to decide as a reader what's "inevitable" for Izuku Midoriya from this point on. Me? I've decided Izuku is taking Katsuki's advice to treat people who mean more to him better. Ochako is just the beginning. Izuku has other people in his life he needs to show love to as well (because that's what this is, Izuku is learning to show people that they're important to him, that he loves them, because saving people doesn't do that--he saves EVERYONE). And then maybe he'll start to see how the people who love him treat him special too, like guest SPECIAL (same kanji) LECTURER KATSUKI BAKUGOU.

tl;dr there is a lot left open to interpretation and it's probably on purpose, read the chapter however you like, just like we did with the last chapter.

...and my interpretation which is the correct one is that Katsuki tells Izuku, "Here let me show you how to love people, damnit!" to give him the character development everyone has been begging for him to have for years, to realize that saving people doesn't mean they're special to him if he's known for saving everyone ever, so like, maybe go show them you care in OTHER ways, Izuku, and also I'll be waiting right here for you to come show you love me you jackass (and he does, he does come show him that)