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honey-words · 11 months

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spider boy — spider-man!midoriya izuku x reader

synopsis: you’ve talked to your neighbor a few times before and have waved at him on campus. But you’ve noticed he keeps really weird hours, sometimes hearing him go into his apartment at ungodly hours of the night. So when spider-man enters your apartment one night, it’s easy for you to connect the dots from there.

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, hints of angst, hurt/comfort

wc: 3.1k

author’s note: I believe in spider-man!deku supremacy :)

part 1 of the spider boy series

“Spider-man does it again! Only three blocks from the UA university campus, the masked hero—”

“You’re a spider-man fan?”

You jumped, almost dropping your phone and falling off of the bench in the process.

“Midoriya! You scared me.”

He laughed and you paused the video you were watching, a news clip from this morning. He settled down beside you on the bench, taking a sip of his iced coffee as he did.

“Yeah, I guess I am a fan,” you said. “Campus PD sucks and I think it’s funny a spider guy is more reliant than all of them put together.”

You both shared a laugh.

“I have to get to class,” Midoriya sighed, not making any movements to get up from the bench. “How’s Moony?”

“She’s great, thanks for asking,” you said, smiling back at him. Because Midoriya was the definition of a perfect neighbor. He had introduced himself when you first moved in and he saw the small cat carrier with a little black kitten, Moony, inside of it. From there it had been a pleasant acquaintanceship between the two of you.

“I’ll see you later, then,” he said, really standing up this time. “Bye!”

You waved goodbye as he left, then turned back to the video.

A thief had been running loose on campus for the last week, snatching cell phones and wallets from unsuspecting students on their way to class. Campus PD had found the thief this morning, literally on their doorstep with a sticky note that had a spider sketch stuck on his face.

A smaller feat of Spider-Man’s, but a good one nonetheless.

During your first lecture of the day you could see other people were watching the same video and reading the accompanying article. It was the first time Spider-Man had acted so close to campus, practically on the grounds of it considering where he had turned in the thief.

The person in front of you had a Reddit post pulled up, and you had to bite your cheek to refrain from laughing as you read the title. Spider boy or whatever is totally a UA student. Here’s my proof!!!!

Finding the professor’s lecture increasingly dry and dull, you decided to pull up the Reddit tab on your own laptop so you could read it, too.

By the time the lecture was over you had read the entire post (it was surprisingly long) and all of the comments underneath it, half-convinced of the theory yourself. It made some reasonable arguments—Spider-Man stuck to the surrounding city, usually went around at night, rarely seen throughout the day—keeping with the schedule of a college student. Sticking to the surrounding city pointed to the fact that he lived near campus. And the latest crime he’d solved was the cherry on top, because the alerts about it had gone out to all campus members since the incidents were contained to the campus.

The dull lecture came with dull readings, which you idly flipped through later that night. It was nearing 1 am, but sleep had not yet found you, and even the reading was not putting you to sleep.

You must’ve dozed off on your tiny kitchen table, Moony curled up on the chair next to you, because her surprised meow and the sound of a door closing close by woke you up a few hours later. Your phone lit up with an email notification (professors were truly unhinged with their work hours) and you were able to see the time without lifting your head up from the table. 4 am.

The door that had closed and woken you and Moony up had been Midoriya’s, you realized even in your half-asleep state. Occasionally the sound would wake you up, but you never minded it much and usually rolled over and fell back asleep.

This time you had to drag yourself over to your bed, and you could vaguely hear Midoriya moving around next door. What business he had this early in the morning you never knew. He seemed pretty normal, and you always assumed he was fond of late library study sessions. Even if it was not exactly exam season. But then again, he was a biochem major, you mused.

You fell asleep wondering about this and woke up five hours later to the sound of your blaring alarm. It snapped you awake, enough to hear a thud from next door. Did Midoriya fall out of bed?

The day passed as usual. You went to class, took half-hearted notes (it was hard to focus at this point in the semester—everyone was already burnt out) came home and ate dinner with Moony, and cuddled up on the couch together to do your readings.

This time you were ready to pass out outside of the warm embrace of your bed, so you’d done your nightly routine and brought over blankets to the couch, ready for sleep to come whenever it was ready.

The sound that woke you up this time was much louder. And Moony hissed.

She never hissed.

You froze from your curled-up position on the couch, eyes still heavy with sleep and senses scrambling to catch up with your brain and racing heart. The coffee table was right across from you, and by some miracle, you’d been sipping on a lemonade earlier—one in a glass bottle.

As swiftly as you could, you untangled yourself from the blankets and grabbed the lemonade bottle, wielding it in front of you like a sword.

It slipped from your grasp when you saw who was standing in front of you, next to your open window you always kept closed, scared Moony would climb out.

As if on reflex, as if he expected you to drop your weapon, Spider-Man shot a web just as it slipped from your fingers, catching it in his hands before you could even register you had dropped it.

Moony, who had been very annoyed at being woken up just a minute ago, was now rubbing her head on his shins affectionately.

“Moony,” you whispered. “Get away from him.”

“It’s okay!” Spider-Man said, mirroring your whisper. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then why did you break into my apartment?” You looked around for your phone, or another potential weapon. Instead, your gaze found the small digital clock you kept on a shelf near the door, the bright green numbers clearing away the fogginess of sleep.

It was 4am.

You could not help the gasp that escaped you.

“Midoriya?”

The effect was instantaneous. Spider-Man’s entire body language changed, that much you could tell, even in the dark. He took a step away from you, back toward the window, shoulders tense.

“What?” he said. Trying hard to keep his voice steady, even deepening it a little. But you knew it was him.

“Did you think this was your apartment?” You were connecting the dots now. “This is why you always come back so late.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, inching towards the window. “I just got a little lost. Thought this place was empty.”

“You’re bleeding,” you said, pointing at the gash in his arm as though he had not noticed it himself. “Why’re you bleeding?”

Moony meowed, as though echoing your question. She was still close to him, and leaned forward to rub her head against his shin again.

This seemed to break him—his shoulders drooped and he let out a long exhale. He reached up and pulled the mask off, and you gasped again.

The left side of his face was covered in bruises, his eye starting to swell a bit. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, glancing down at Moony.

“Smart cat. She recognized me.” You winced and instinctively moved toward him when he tried to smile and grimaced at the action.

“Sit down, please,” you said, remembering to speak quietly. “You can’t die in my apartment. You can’t.”

“I won’t,” he said, letting you manhandle him into sitting on the couch. “Promise.”

“If you thought this was your apartment you’re definitely concussed,” you said, reaching up to move his curls aside, careful not to touch his face. The bruises covered his entire left side, also the side his arm was bleeding. “What happened to you?”

You snatched your hand away when he realized he was frozen, eyes to the side where your hand was.

“I got thrown into a wall,” he said, smiling again. A smaller grimace this time. “I’m really sorry.”

“You’re sorry for being thrown into a wall?” You shuffled to the kitchen to grab the tiny first aid kit you kept there. It was dusty and unused and consisted mainly of bandaids, something you started laughing at a little hysterically as you opened it on the couch, in between you and Midoriya. He’d leaned back onto the couch, breathing evened out. He was lying so still you thought he was sleeping, until he turned his head to see what you were laughing at.

“I only have bandaids,” you said, still laughing a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, I didn’t mean…” he started laughing. Quietly, then a little louder until you were both giggling and suppressing loud laughs.

“It’s okay,” he said, catching his breath again. “Can you help me get to my place? I’m used to patching myself up.”

It took five minutes, but eventually, you both managed to get out your front door, coaxing Moony to stay inside. Midoriya had one of his arms draped around your shoulder, keeping him upright. He had reassured you plenty of times as you both shuffled out the door that he was fine, he had been through worse. Which only made you feel worse.

His apartment was the exact same layout as yours, though a little messier, which he apologized for. There were notes all over his kitchen table, his couch was covered in blankets. You had a feeling he was prone to falling asleep all over his apartment like you did.

“Thank you,” he said once he had settled down on his couch. “I’m really sorry, again.”

“I know,” you said, sitting down beside him. You stared at the clock directly across from you, above his small TV. “I’m sorry for figuring out who you are.”

Another small laugh from him. “S’okay.” he shifted to look at you, and you mirrored him. It would have felt awkward being this close to someone you knew more in passing a day ago, but you felt as though this entire experience had automatically made the two of you friends. A trauma bond, of sorts. “You won’t tell anyone?”

You smiled back at him. “Promise.”

You didn’t remember getting back to your apartment, only that it took a lot of convincing on Midoriya’s part. The second you woke up (on your couch) you rushed to get out the door and knock on Midoriya’s until he opened, if anything to confirm you had not dreamed anything that had happened. But before you could get your slippers on, you saw a small note on the floor in front of the door.

Two spiders drawn holding hands, with “friends?” written underneath.

You slid it back under his door with your own addition — a drawing of a cat and “friends” written underneath his question.

——— * * * ———

“Trauma bond?”

“Yeah,” you said, shoving at his shoulder and ignoring his fake wince. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he agreed, petting a meowing Moony in his lap. He was frowning down at her, and you had been around him long enough to know something was wrong.

It had been over a month since the break-in incident (which Midoriya was still apologizing for) and you had grown used to each other’s company. It had started off small—seeing him in the library during the day, studying quietly next to him. Stifling your laughter when he slid a spider doodle across the table to you.

After that, you noticed him around campus more often. You had always greeted him when he crossed your path, stopping to make small talk. But now you actually talked about things of substance. Setting up study sessions, inviting him over to play with Moony, exchanging recipes and even starting to cook at each other’s apartments.

“Is my pasta not good?” you said. Moony meowed, echoing your question from his lap.

“It could use some pepper,” he said, smiling teasingly at you. “No, it’s good. Just a rough night.”

“Wanna talk about it?” you said.

“S’okay,” he said. “We’re trauma bonded enough.” You felt a pang of guilt at the sadness in his tone.

“Midoriya—”

“Thank you for the pasta,” he said. “I can help with the dishes.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “You know we’re friends friends, right?”

He nodded. “I’m messing with you.”

“You little shit!” he laughed as you set your dishes down in the sink, shoving him slightly. He smiled slyly at you. He seemed like the perfect boy next door, but he was really a little shit. And he was the perfect boy next door.

“I haven’t heard you come back late in a while,” you said. He turned to look at you from his place at the sink, eyebrows raised.

“You wait up for me?”

“No!” you said indiginantly. “It just used to wake us up.”

“Really? I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” you said. “But you have to wake me up if you’re hurt really bad, okay? Even if it’s just to sit with you.”

A small noise of acknowledgement from Midoriya.

“What was that?”

“Promise.”

Satisfied, you got up from your place at the table, letting him finish up the dishes. “Are you going out tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry in advance about the early morning wake up call.”

He still would not tell you where he went. But the news reports the next day served as the answers to your questions. A crime solved here, a criminal turned in there. The Spider-Man news page, ran by dedicated fans, was bookmarked on your computer and one of your most visited tabs. On nights when you couldn’t sleep and didn’t know where he was, you would refresh it every few minutes, waiting for an update.

Sometimes he would go during the day, and when you would get back from class he would be there on your couch with Moony, napping. You would sit on the opposite end and wait for him to wake up, then decide on what to make for lunch together. Not talking about the new bruise on his arm or the new cut on his leg. If he brought it up you knew it was okay to talk about it, but usually you both talked about normal topics. Avoiding the giant spider in the room.

“All done!” he said, falling down on the couch beside you. Reaching to pet Moony, who was cuddled up on your lap. Arm muscles flexing, hands softly running through Moony’s fur. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore how jacked he was. Especially when he was literally always stripping in your apartment, changing from his suit into his regular clothes. Letting you sneak glances at his back, his chest.

“Take a nap,” you blurted. “If you’re going to be out tonight. You need to rest.”

“I will,” he said, smiling up at you. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not!” you said, huffing. “You better not visit me tonight. I expect you to kick ass and come back with no injuries.”

“‘Kay,” he said. “See you tomorrow?” You nodded and watched him dramatically sigh, throwing his head back on the couch before getting up and shuffling to the door.

The rest of your evening was spent anxiously trying to distract yourself. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head, in the pit of your stomach. After finishing your homework and realizing it was hours before your usual bedtime, you cleaned your apartment. Reorganized, moved things around.

You decided to settle on the couch for the night. Better place to hear Midoriya come back.

The sound that jolted you awake a couple hours later was louder than usual, and it woke you up quicker. A quick glance at your clock let you know it was only 1am.

“Midoriya?” you said quietly, sitting up. “You okay?”

He was standing near your window, at almost the exact same spot as a month before, when he had first broken in.

“No,” he said. Voice hoarse and almost too quiet for you to hear.

You were up and leading him over to the couch in an instant. His mask was already off, clutched in between his fingers

“Are you hurt?” you said, patting down his arms and running your fingers over his face softly, scared to touch a bruise or aggravate a cut. A shake of his head.

You gently took the mask from him, setting it down on the coffee table with one hand, the other gripping his hands tightly. “Want to talk about it?”

He nodded, squeezing your hands back. “Later.”

“Okay,” you said, scooting closer to him on the couch so your shoulders pressed together. “I’m here, okay? It’s okay.”

You were ready when his shoulders started shaking and he slid into your hug, staining your shirt with his tears. You ran your hands through his hair, rubbing your fingers along the nape of his neck. Repeating the phrase over and over until it felt like you were trying to convince yourself of the same thing.

The bruises were on his side this time—no cuts deep enough to warrant him going back to his apartment to patch himself up. You helped him get his suit off slowly. The tears hadn’t stopped, and yours had started fifteen minutes after his. It hurt to see him like this and not know how to help. Knowing all you could do was help him get back to his apartment and keep his secret.

“Can I stay?” he said. He was holding the top half of his suit to his chest, hugging it.

“Yeah, course you can,” you said. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

Moony walked out of your room with an annoyed meow. She had been sleeping, but once she spotted Midoriya she happily sauntered over, already purring.

Once he had changed into the clothes his eyes started to droop, and you started convincing him to sleep in your room. He kept shaking his head, until he finally told you, “Don’t want to be alone.”

“Okay, I’ll stay with you,” you said. Slipped out so easily you had no time to realize you had said it until he nodded and you were walking into your room and settling under the covers, Midoriya turning to face you, lashes wet with tears.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

He blinked slowly at you, sleep making his eyes heavy. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

masterlist

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x you #mha x reader #bnha x you #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x you #deku x reader #midoriya izuku x oc #spiderman deku #bnha fanfiction #spiderdeku

852 notes · View notes

tetsupeach · 2 years

Text

reaper deku x f!reader

summary - after you die and deku comes to collect your soul he takes personal responsibility for you.

cws - monsterfucking light, he's got horns and a long tongue and is 7 feet tall, sleeps in a nest, collects souls ready to pass on. reader is dead, she's been murdered by her abusive boyfriend, but the story picks up after she's passed. breeding, deku's a gentle dom, huge cock,, uhhh yeah honestly this is pretty soft,

MINORS DNI - please have an age in your bio to interact with this fic.

It’s not that he liked his job, Deku reminds himself as he feels the tugging towards another soul ready for departure, it’s that he feels a sense of duty. He was a shepherd, to most of the people he visited, death was a kindness, a release, and he was sure, already leaping over rooftops, his tattered black cloak dragging behind him, that you would be no different. Like most people, you barely notice his figure darkening the doorway, but oh you poor thing, you can barely move.

“Ohh,” he can’t help it, the sympathetic sound pouring from his lips, what a helpless little human, “So many broken bones,” he muses in a soft coo, squatting beside you. You’re leaned up against the wall of an empty apartment, blood trickling down the side of your face. You let out a little breath, and when he rests his hand on your shoulder the pain dissipates. “I haven’t seen one this bad in a while,” he says, and you gasp in shock, looking up at the dark figure that suddenly appeared next to you.

He was tall, and broad, with a tangle of dark green curls that matched his glittering verdant irises, a smattering of freckles across his nose. He reaches a scarred hand out to you, and you take it, bursting into tears as he pulls you to your feet.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, “I’m sorry you probably deal with this all the time.” Your voice is softer than he expects, little more than the whistle of a teakettle. He wraps his arms around you, folding your body into his warm chest.

“Actually,” He says, “Most people are angry.” The lump in your throat only grows as the hot tears spill down your face. “They want more time, another chance, and I can’t give it to them.”

“I-I-I’m ready to go,” you blubber, “I’m so t-tired, and everything hurts.” He rubs comforting patterns into your back.

“Let’s take a second,” he says, looking down at the top of your head. “It’s alright, no more pain where we’re headed, okay?” You only cry harder.

“I never,” you sniff and look up at him, “I never had a chance.” He moves one of his hands higher, tangling it in your hair, a question he never asks on his lips.

“Who did this to you?” He says, and you turn around to glance at your body but he catches your chin with a kind smile. “Better not look, hm?” You nod

“W-we could go to my kitchen?” You hiccup and he lets you lead him forward.

“I can make you tea.” He says, opening the cabinet with your mugs in it on the first try.

“Death can make tea?” You ask, and he nods without turning around.

“I’m not death.” He clarifies. “I work for death.” He turns the stove on, filling a teapot with water and looking over his shoulder at you. “I asked who did this to you?”

“M-my boyfriend.” You mumble. “No matter how hard I t-tried, he was never happy with me, and when I tried to leave,” You tremble, unable to finish the sentence.

“No,” Deku coos at you with surprise, as if he hadn’t heard this story a million times before, as if this was new information, “Sweetheart, that’s not love, you deserved to be loved.” You nod slowly, your eyes burning with fresh tears, and the need to comfort you nearly overtakes him.

“No one else wanted me.” You press your lips together. “I never had a chance at all.” Deku takes a box of tea down from the cabinet and inspects you carefully, your skin in the moonlight, your red-rimmed eyes.

“You don’t have questions for me?” He looks over his shoulder at you and you shake your head. “You know it’s not true that no one else wanted you.” He says, sitting down next to you at your kitchen table. “You’re very beautiful, so I’m sure that’s not true.” You sniff.

“Thank you.” You say, and he reaches over and brushes some hair out of your face, his hands ghosting your skin and then returning to his side.

“Tell me what happened?” He murmurs, “I have time.” You swallow, and nod.

“He, he came home, and he was drunk.” Dekus eyes never leave yours while you’re speaking, “And he was upset, about, about something, maybe sports, maybe me. He wanted me to have sex with him, and I didn’t want to, I just, I didn’t feel like it.” Deku gets up, takes the kettle off the stove, and pours the boiling water, setting the steeping tea in front of you with a soft thump. You touch it, half expecting your hands to go through the ceramic, but they don’t.

“This isn’t your fault.” He says, joining you.

“You didn’t make yourself tea?” You ask, eyes widening a little.

“I don’t really, eat.” He explains. “You won’t either, when we leave.”

“Where are we going?” You ask, cupping the mug in your hands, it’s warm on your cool skin. He thinks about it before responding.

“The next phase of existence, it’s different for everyone.” He stops himself, closing his eyes, “I’m, I’m sorry, you’re not,” he swallows, “You shouldn’t be, you shouldn’t be okay with this,” the pain is evident in his voice, “You should be fighting me, you should be kicking and screaming, you should be begging for a chance at revenge!” You take a long slow breath in, lower lip trembling.

“I know this isn’t what you meant,” You mumble, throat tight, “But what I heard was that I can’t even die correctly.” You bury your face in your hands. “Can we just, can we go, to whatever’s next?”

“No!” He says, scandalized. “No, we can’t.” He takes your hand and pulls you out of your chair, “There had to be things that you always wanted to do?” You wipe one of your eyes. You’d had dreams once, maybe as a child, in those limited golden-tinged memories, you’d had things you’d sworn to do before this, the most human of inevitabilities.

“I can’t think of anything.” You whisper, and he shakes his head.

“Sure you can, is there a place you thought of going?” You think about it hard, at one of the jobs you’d had, at one point, your life was already blurring together, one of your co-workers had a

“Um, I guess I wanted to see Venice?” He yanks you down the hallway, and out into the summer drizzle. “What the hell are you doing?” He doesn’t answer, pulling you up into the clouds, you’re not flying exactly, there’s hardly any movement, except the turn of the planet beneath him. “Hey,” you try to get his attention hanging from his forearm as you move higher into the sky. He holds his posture, but you dangle like a christmas ornament, “Hey,” you say again, louder, and with a soft grunt he lifts you, holding you to his chest while he flies, wrapping his cloak around your body. After a few seconds, you’re flying over an ocean, moonlight sparkling on the dark waters, clinging to him, shivering in the cold.

“We’re obviously going to Venice,” He says, a touch of frustration in his voice. “I want you to see, something, something you can mourn, you need to. It’s human, it’s healthy.” You look up at him.

“Why are you so concerned?”

“It’s part of my job.” He says, “To guide humans. To take them to the places they need to go. And I decided you and I go to Venice, now.” You wrap your arms around his neck and feel his hands on your waist. As you touch down on the cobblestones, the moon is high, glittering on the canal. He leads you down the street, people don’t stop to look at you, you gather after he walks straight through a lampost, because they can’t see you. You’ve been walking for a few minutes, he doesn’t let go of your hand. You look down at it, his nails are varnished black, the fingers long and thick. Everything about him is big, you realize, even more so on the tiny Eurpean streets.

“Am I dreaming?” You wonder out loud, and he looks down at you.

“No.” He confirms. “Does this help, though, being here?” You sigh, shivering, the air is cool and wet. You swallow.

“I don’t know.”

“I could get you ice cream.” He says, a touch of desperation to his tone.

“I had a dream, once.” You say, so softly, he has to lean in to hear you at all. “I wanted him to love me.” You breathe the last word, “I want him to touch me softly, because,” you gesture around the piazza, remembering that it was the honeymoon in your co-workers photo and not the sinking city you’d longed for, “I wanted a real love.” Your lip trembles. “And I’m never going to get it.” The tears fall again. “No one ever touched me softly,” you look up and meet his eyes, his face is completely unreadable, “And I’ll never know what that’s like.” You gesture weakly. “This is pretty but, when the people go, it’s just stone, and water, and spores.” You look at the lichen climbing up the side of the fountain. “And now I’m dead.” He swallows and looks down at you.

“I’m not sure how to fix that.” he admits. “I don’t usually do this.”

“Take someone’s soul to Italy before you take them on?” You sniff, wiping your face. “I’m sorry I think, I just want it all to be over.” Deku presses his lips together and frowns before speaking again, a touch of childish desperation creeping into his voice.

“It’s just that, the little parts of being alive are so fascinating to me,” he giggles at the thought, “Did you know some humans, when they date, take pictures of each other, and make it their little um, their phone screen?” You nod. “And I’ve seen,” he keeps chattering excitedly, I’ve seen them ah,” he stops himself, searching for the word, “Do this thing, where they’re lying down together, and they kinda fit their bodies into each other?”

“Spooning?” You offer, and he beams.

“IS that what it’s called?” He fidgets, and you can see his long dark nails, more like talons in the darkness. He was so excited, so sweet.

“Um, I could, if you want I could show you, more of the things humans do when they’re in love?” He brightens, and when he smiles, the hood of his cloak falls off his head. In the dark moonlight, you can seek the skeleton underneath his skin, underneath the human glamour part of him.

“Oh, sorry.” he says, jerking the cloak over his head again, his ‘humanity’ restored. “I would, I would like that though.” He takes your hand. “Like, this, did I do this right, when I was comforting you, I’ve seen movies I-”

“This is fine.” You say, giving him a tiny encouraging smile that just cuts all the way through his chest. “But isn’t it better like this?” You carefully interlace your fingers with his. His hand is cold to the touch, but his face warms, a long breath escaping from his chest.

“Oh,” he says, “Yes it feels, so much closer?” You squeeze his hand, and he gets redder.

“You were good, ah, especially when you um,” You step into his personal space again and bury your face in his chest, he nods, understanding, cupping the back of your head in his free hand.

“Like this?” He asks, and you can feel the rumble of his voice from his chest.

“Yes,” you sigh, a little more warmth to the sound. “It helped.”

“What else,” he says, the desperation back in his voice, “Please I want, I want to understand better, for the people I guide.” You nod into him.

“You could lean down, and kiss the top of my head.” He follows your orders, his mouth lingering on your scalp, inhaling your scent. You smell like cigarette smoke, and vanilla perfume. “And I would do this,” You breathe, wrapping your free arm around his waist, and going to wrest your other hand from his but when you pull at it, his grip tightens, and an animalistic snarl rips from his chest. You jump and gasp with fear but apologies are spilling from his lips immediately.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he says, “I just, I guess, I’m feeling protective, I want to keep holding your hand, please, ah,” you look up at him, his face is so genuinely contrite it breaks your heart, “May I please keep holding it?”

“Ah, yes.” You say, and he smiles at you, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “Can we keep walking?” You ask, and he nods. The two of you stroll through the streets of Venice at night, and the temperature drops considerably as the moon gets higher. You’re standing at the dock, looking out at the ocean, when you start genuinely trembling, and he speaks again, handsome face contorted with concern.

“Ah, are you cold?”

“Y-yes.” You choke out, still in only the tank top and pajama shorts you’d died in.

“I can um, I can give you my cloak if you don’t mind that i’ll look less human.” He offers, and you shrug.

“I can’t imagine that after all that,” you remember your crumpled form, the black spots appearing on your vision as your boyfriend stumbled out of the room, so drunk he was blind to what he’d done, “That I looked human.”

“No, I suppose not so much.” he says, remembering a scene from a movie he’d watched on a day off, taking your chin in his hand roughly, then jumping back and releasing it, “Sorry, I wanted to touch you, but I, I did that wrong?” You nod quickly, and he looks sheepish, reaching back and touching his own neck. “Sorry.” He repeats.

“No it’s alright,” You say, taking his hands and arranging them on your face so that he’s cupping it, his thumbs resting on the top of your cheeks. “Like this.” He strokes your skin for a moment, lost in the high planes of your face reflecting in the moonlight, the only sound the water lapping the dock you're standing on, the boats nudging each other. But then another shiver runs up your spine, and he practically rips off his cloak, draping it around your shoulders, bending down so that he can properly arrange it on your shoulders. In the bright silver moonlight, he stretches into a truer form. He’s a little hunched, and much closer to seven feet than six. There are two white bony horns peeking out of his green hair, and his canines are long and sharp in a distinctly inhuman way. In the direct moonlight, you can see right through his skin. But other than that, he’s built like a man, the largest man you’ve ever seen, but a man nonetheless.

“Wow,” you stammer, drawing his cloak around you. He laughs.

“You’re not afraid?” He asks, and your mind flashes to the fear you knew in your life, the way you’d come to jump at loud noises, the way just the scent of whiskey could send you into a tailspin, and you shake your head.

“I’ve seen worse.” You say softly, and he nods, understanding.

“Ah.” He offers you his hand, now with long talons at the end. You take it, and he carefully, painstakingly interlaces your fingers. “Can I,” he starts, and then you watch him stop himself, second guess, and then barrel forward, “Can I, what I mean, is that,” he pauses, struggling for the right words. “I would like to, to kiss you, if I can.” Your eyes widen.

“Oh!”

“I mean, not if, not if you don’t-”

“No it’s just-”

“It’s totally okay,” he flashes his palms at you, “I get it if you-”

“I want to.” You cut him off again, and he looks at you, shock coloring his handsome features. “I just um,” you look around, “I know no one can see us, but I’d prefer if we could go somewhere um, private?” He nods, squeezing your hand.

“My place?”

“You have a place?” You ask, as he lifts you back up into the air, and you watch the moonlight glitter on the dark ocean.

“My shift’s been over for a bit.” He explains, a little guilt creeping into his expression. “We work for three weeks about, your time. You were my last job.”

“Oh.” Something twinges in your gut. “Can I ask you something?” You look down, Venice is tiny below you, nearly disappearing into the sea. “What ah, what are you?”

“I serve death.” He explains, lifting you easily so that you’re cradled against his chest, swaddled like a baby. “In all of their forms, as the raven queen, as the devil, as the moon, whatever form you’ve given them.” He shifts you a little so that your head is resting on his pectoral. “You might call me ah, a demon, I suppose, but that comes with such a negative connotation.”

“What should I call you, then?” He glances down at you, it’s incredible to him, how easy you’re taking this, how quickly you accepted death, how you don’t seem to be afraid of him, it feels, dreamlike.

“Call me Izuku.” He says as you break through a huge white cloud. The world around you blurs and suddenly you’re not flowing up, but down, down towards a ground that looks like a rocky mountainside. “It’s a reflection,” he explains, seeing the look on your face, “Sometimes when you’re looking in the mirror and you see something behind you, you are seeing us.”

“Izuku,” you say, and oh god his given name on your lips is heavenly, so sweet and short, a cooing, breathy sound. His mouth goes dry as he lands on the dirt path, leading to the mouth of a cave. “Is this allowed, I don’t want you to get in trouble.” He stretches a little, setting you on the ground, you’d have to go back, eventually, he thinks, but there was a way, a way to ensure you’d be his forever.

“They might notice, in a century, that you didn’t report to where you’re going.” He yawns. “But it’s so kind of you to care.” He leads you to the mouth of the cave, which has a huge nest of blankets and twigs, the occasional moss accent softening a corner. Flickering torches hang on the walls, creating long dancing shadows on the floor. He helps you into the nest, lifting your body up and over the lip of it so that you slide to the soft bottom, then leaping into it after you. It’s cozy and much less fragile than it looks,

“I like this,” you breathe, startling even yourself at how, right it feels to be here. He blushes a deep crimson.

“You like my nest?”

“It seems,” you shift your weight a little, “It seems sturdy.” Warmth spreads across his chest.

“Thank you.” You’re sitting cross-legged on the blankets, with him kneeling in front of you. “Where do I um, how do I start?” he asks, and you take his huge hands guiding them so that one of them rests on your waist, and the other is cupping your cheek.

“Now press your lips to mine,” you say, eyes wide and kind, full of the most beautiful innocence - god he was going to - “Softly, at first.” You instruct, speaking the words almost into his mouth. “And you can use your hands to move me where you want me.” His hand on your waist tightens, digging into the softness of your skin there as he leans farther forward, experiencing the gentle ecstasy of closeness. Your body is warm, so warm compared to him, he can’t help it, he wants more, using his leverage to push his tongue between your lips, guiding you down on your back so that he can feel every curve, every contour of you against him. It’s been so long, he works so hard, and there are so many intricacies to your anatomy, so many places he can press his lips to make more music spill from your mouth. Where he’s hard and cold, you’re plush and warm, and the little gasp you make when he accidentally grazes his teeth against your lower lip practically sets him on fire, a low growl ripping from his chest. You tug on his hair, guiding him from your mouth to the crook of your neck, pulling another hiccupping gasp from your lips.

“I-izuku,” you choke out, it feels good, his tongue long and rough on your skin, but, “It’s o-okay, you can touch me,” another sound rumbles from him, somehow even more feral, as both of his hands move up to palm your chest, rutting his hips desperately against yours.

“Want you, gotta get your ready for me,” he growls, “Please, fuck, I need-”

“It’s okay,” you breathe, more sure of this than anything in your life, “I want you, I want you, I can handle it.” He pulls off of you, face flushed, heart racing, as he rips your pajama shorts off of you and dives between your legs. It’s like he’s sucked the air from your lungs, bright lights exploding behind your eyes as he presses his nose against your clit and slides his long tongue into your core. “Mmmmm,” He groans, rolling his hips against the ground, roughly taking your thighs in a bruising grip as you writhe with pleasure, the vibrations of his voice only sending you higher.

“‘Zuku,” you choke out, as he laps at you greedily, “Feels, feels so good.” He growls into your warmth again, pressing himself deeper into you. You tangle your fingers in his hair, guiding his movements against you, he lets you set the rhythm but any time you try and squirm away from him, any time the pleasure becomes too much, he locks his arms around you tighter, holding you in place. You meet his gaze, eye narrowed and intense.

“Mine,” he says, before slipping a finger inside of you. You keen at that alone, the possessive undercurrent to his voice making your face hot and mouth dry. “Mine,” he says again, knuckle deep inside you, pressing against your velvet walls as you gasp and mewl. “Say it.” He demands, his demeanor completely different. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m,” you swallow, he curls his one finger inside of you and your back is practically forced into an arch, pleasure building, the hot coil in your stomach growing tighter. “I’m yours, I’m yours, Izuku,” you cry out over the lewd squelch of his finger inside you. He adds a second one, scissoring them inside you, and he marvels at the way it sends a shudder throughout your entire body, you just can’t stay still for him, even yelping when he sinks his teeth into the soft skin at your hips, delighting in the way you’ve completely come undone at his touch. He can feel his cock straining against his pants, with every wanton moan that escapes your lips, it gets harder, desperate for some kind of friction, to replace his fingers in your warm, wet, cunt.

“Fuck,” you choke out, looking at him again, soft eyes glistening with tears, and somewhere inside of him, a damn breaks. With a feral grunt, he takes you roughly by the waist and lifts you in the air, flopping on his back as he positions you above his crotch, watching your eyes widen with fear as he pulls his length out from his pants. He’s huge underneath you, shoulders wide and flat, his shirt sticking to his sweaty abdomen. You reach for it, tugging it over his head and leaning back, bracing your hands against his hips, raking your eyes down his scarred muscle to the trail of green hair leading to the largest cock you’ve ever seen, purpled with need and curving slightly.

“C’mon,” he growls, “C’mon baby, take it, you can do it.” You swallow, heart thrumming as you sink down, your walls stretching taking even the head of him. “That’s it,” he says, dark eyes glittering, as you let out a soft whine.

“S-so big, ‘Zuku,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you feel a light slap on your thigh,

“Look at me,” He says, “Focus on me,” You lower your hips a little more, your mouth dropping open as the stretch starts with a sharp pain that melts into pleasure. He sits up a little, taking your thighs in his hands, kneading at them before pressing another kiss to your lips. “Take it baby, you can take it,” he says, as you keep sinking lower, your eyes completely losing focus as your soft walls flutter around him.

“Ah,” you moan, biting down on your lower lip, you’re still only about halfway. It’s not just that it’s the longest cock you’ve ever seen, it’s wide, and there’s so much space between your hips and that tuft of green hair at his hilt.

“Look at me,” He says again, authority seeping into his tone, and you obey, shivering with pleasure, “Look at me,” you nod, “You’re gonna take my cock, angel, alright, like a good girl, and then I’m gonna make you feel so good no one else is ever gonna matter,” you nod, and keep going, ignoring the stretch, tuning everything out but his loud groans.

“‘Z-zuku,” you mumble, trying not to break eye contact with him.

“No one else,” he says, his voice dark, his eyes narrow and possessive, “‘M gonna ruin you for anyone else.” You roll your hips a little as you finally, finally take all of him, settling down on top of him as you feel every inch, every vein, pulsing, so hot inside you.

“So f-full,” you breathe, reaching for him and instinctively, he holds your hand, just like you taught him.

“What a good girl,” he coos, and watches you preen at the praise, squeezing your hand, “Ready for me to move, baby, ‘m gonna fuck you so good baby,” You whimper, and he sits up eyes wide with concern. “Is it too much I-”

“I want you to kiss me,” you mumble, embarrassed at your desire for intimacy, but he beams at you before crashing his lips against yours at the same time as he thrusts his length inside you, letting you moan into his open mouth, not letting go of your hand as he slowly begins moving inside you. You collapse into his chest and he takes it in stride, burying his face in your neck, biting down on your soft flesh, as the pleasure overtakes him.

“So good,” he chokes out, moving you up and down his cock, feeling your walls flutter and squish around him, “Such a good girl, baby,” he breathes, “F-fuck, takin’ all of me, so good, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he snarls the last word, slamming into you hard, eliciting a sharp keen from your lips. He can’t tear his eyes away from the way you’re stretching to accommodate him, watching his cock disappear between your soaking folds, groaning loudly at the way you squeeze around him.

“More,” you beg, holding his hand more tightly, “More please, ‘Zuku, I can take it.”

“Fuck yes you can,” He breathes, picking up the pace, fucking you harder, letting you completely relax against his chest as he thrusts upward into you, watching your chest bounce with every roll of his hips, lifting your head up so that he can kiss you sloppily again as he feels himself scrape against your walls. “Fuck yes,” he repeats, speaking into your mouth, refusing to let go of your hand,

“Can I,” you stop speaking as a particularly hard snap of his hips against your sucks the wind from your lungs, “Can I cum?” He blinks up at you, the idea of it registering, and then whatever self-control he’d been holding on to dissipates. He flips you on your back without pulling out and pins both of your hands next to your head as he fucks you into oblivion.

“Cum for me,” He snarls, “Cum for me, I want it, I wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby come on,” you writhe underneath him, completely lost in the sensation the coil in your stomach hot and tight, you’re teetering on the edge of your high as he leans down and speaks in your ear, his breath on your neck, “I said,” he growls, voice completely different, dark and threatening, “Cum for me.” It’s like you’ve been shoved off a cliff, you clench down on him hard, losing complete control of your limbs and your mind, babbling praise as he carries you through your orgasm. He chases his own high, thrusts sporadic, in time with short low grunts, as he explodes inside of you, staying hard with the single-minded thought of getting his cum as deep within your cunt as possible, of marking your womb and your body as his.

“Mine,” he says, over and over as he watches you unravel, your tongue lolling as your orgasm rips through your body, noticing the marks he’d littered on your neck and chest, the bite marks and bruises making him somehow even harder. It’s a few minutes, before he finally stops cumming, collapsing on top of you, still not releasing your hand. He crushes you against his chest, wrapping himself in blankets as you come down, finally pulling out of your pussy with a soft groan.

“Izuku,” you breathe, still barely present. “Izuku, am I,” you swallow, “Is this, ah,” you pause, catching your breath but he presses a single finger to your lips.

“Shhh,” he breathes, “You’re mine, baby, all mine, nothing bad, is ever going to happen to you, ever again.” You lift your head sleepily.

“Yours?”

“Mine.” He confirms and feels you relax against him. He watches you drift off to sleep, stroking your hair, peppering your face with kisses, whispering praise. After all, his hands brush your stomach, if you weren’t pregnant yet he’d just have to try harder next time.

“I’m not asking your permission,” he says quietly, nestling you in his lap, “But just so you know, I’m going to kill your boyfriend.” You blink up at him, brain still operating at 1%.

“Really?” You breathe, eventually, and he nods.

“Yeah.” He presses his lips to your forehead. “I’m gonna take such good care of you.” You snuggle against him, sleepy, fucked out, in a demon's nest, about to fall asleep against his chest when he speaks again. “And you’re gonna give me the sweetest babies,” he coos, and your blood turns to ice, nerves overtaking you.

“What?” You ask, suddenly wide awake, staring up at him. He just nods.

“I don’t know much about romance,” he says, with a sheepish shrug, “But I do know you’re gonna be so beautiful,” you feel his lips on your neck, “Carrying my babies.” You swallow, remembering your mother, doing everything on her own, barely present.

“Y-you’ll help me, right?” You beg, and he pulls away from you, scandalized.

“Of course!” His eyes widen. “Of course, I will.” You close your eyes, putting the cold darkness of your human lift behind you, wrapping your arms around your demon's neck.

“Alright, then,” you wrap your legs around his body. “I’ll be yours, Izuku.” He pets your head, “Can we sleep?” He pulls you down into his pile of blankets, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, nestling you against his chest, and the only sound in the cave is his soft, even breath, and the crackling of the flames of the torches affixed to the wall. “Oh wait,” you sit up, and his heart breaks into a sprint, he could stop you from leaving, from running but he’s not sure he can handle the idea of being rejected - “We could spoon, um, if you want?” There’s a moment, where he processes what you’re offering, letting him lie down on his side and lying down behind him. You hook your arms under his, pressing your chest against his back. “Do you feel safe?” You ask in the tiniest, sweetest voice, his heart shatters, his hands ache for you, but he answers simply, voice trembling as tears spring to his eyes.

“I think,” he says, “No one’s ever touched me softly either.” You bury your face in his neck. “Hmm,” you sigh sleepily. “I’ll teach you.” He swallows, nodding, and his next thought hits him like a train. God, was he going to make your boyfriend fucking suffer.

if you enjoyed this please consider reblogging/commenting. it really helps my reach - much more than liking will.

#mha smut #bnha smut #deku smut #midoriya smut #izuku midorya smut #midoriya izuku smut #midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader smut #deku x reader #deku x reader smut #deku x you #midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x you #izuku x y/n #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x reader

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imagination-mess · 3 months

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Hockey Player! Izuku Midoriya

Hockey Player Au / College Au

This was inspired by this post.

Word Count: 500+

He is known to be a sweetheart, but he is a completely different person on the ice field. He can be quite aggressive, often seen to be matching the energy of the other team’s player.

He has a specific face that is filled with determination.

He is aware that there are several videos of him gnashing his teeth at players making the rounds in the media.

Once you guys have been dating for a while, there isn’t any sort of shyness between the two of you. The two of you get comfortable with each other.

He lets you take any clothes from his closet because he genuinely likes to see you in them, specifically his baggy hoodies and jackets.

He also adores seeing you wear his old jersey that you ‘borrow’ from his closet.

His clothes will eventually come back to his closet and be washed for him to use.

He is very affectionate with you, but he will follow and respect your preferences.

If you don’t mind, make a public display of affection (PDA) and give him the green light. It’s over for you. He will be all over you. He will have a hand somewhere on your body as time goes by.

He is also a massive hugger. He may come from behind and hug you while pressing kisses on your cheeks. He will ask beforehand if that's alright, of course.

He will press kisses all over your face whenever he can.

Everyone will know that you are dating one of the stars of the hockey team, either through his social media or in person. The teammates tell him he is as bad as Kirishima with PDA.

“At first, it was cute. Now it’s starting to be annoying."

He doesn’t care if he is a small or big spoon when it comes to cuddling. He just wants to cuddle. But he will put his head on your lap purposefully to get head scratches and pats.

If you don’t know how to ice skate, he will be more than willing to teach you when there isn’t anyone around in the ice rink, if you are interested.

He would be so patient with you and teach you how to move your feet. He will secretly lead you away from the safety of the wall. Traitor

If you do know how to ice skate, the two of you would have dates randomly at the public ice rink and the private one at school. He will make it work; trust him.

If there is a small gathering with limited seating, he will encourage you to sit on his lap. If you are hesitating, he will straight up tell you he can take it.

If you are still uncomfortable, he will give up his seat for you.

If you allowed him, Izuku would crash at your dorm or apartment for a power nap before going to classes if your place is closer to the building that he needs to go to.

Izuku leaves clothes behind in case he stays over or in emergencies.

Please be prepared for receiving gifts out of nowhere with no connection to the occasion.

Please kiss his scars; he is self-conscious about them.

He will love you unconditionally.

#midoriya izuku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #hockey player! izuku x reader #hockey player au #hockey player! Midoriya x reader #hockey player! izuku Midoriya x reader #hockey player! Midoirya Izuku x reader #deku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #izuku x reader #izuku x y/n #midoriya x reader #mha midoriya izuku x reader #college au

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vlrspace · 10 months

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possessive, midoriya x reader

wc: 1.6K

part two, part three

there are three times where midoriya showed you his possessive, jealous and territorial side, they live in your mind rent free.

not that he wouldn’t touch you or anything, but these three times were ones you haven’t expected of the shy boy, who became tall, sturdy and broad over the years. midoriya hesitated to take your hand or give you a kiss on many occasions, fearing of making you uncomfortable or hurting you. it was never the case when you felt his fingers brush against your skin, his touches were always tender, but he remained a gentleman even now, half a year into the relationship.

sure, midoriya can become bold and confident, like throwing an arm around your shoulder around school, kissing you in empty hallways and sneaking into your room after curfew. these were already hot and daring from midoriya, so the first time it happened, your gentle and timid boyfriend showed everyone his possessive side, you were beyond stunned.

a trip to the mall became a monthly event for your class, someone was always running out of something, needing new clothes or had to buy the latest video game. which is why you all agreed to split up because they would surely kick you out of the mall if twenty people just stepped into an already crowded shop. the girls dragged you away from midoriya’s side, who at first didn’t understand why your hand has been ripped from his, but when you gave him a reassuring smile and a wave, he seemed to visibly relax.

it was a tiring process of trying on many different types of clothes and accessories. your friends lost you at one of the drug stores mentally because your brain just couldn’t handle the many different things anymore so when jiro looked at you with the same interest in her eyes, you two agreed that this is how kaminari must feel when he’s jammed.

you two ended up standing outside at the last shop, keeping in contact with the boys, so you can all go and grab lunch together. midoriya asked if you wanted him to meet you before lunch but you kindly declined, not wanting to upset your friends for ruining your girls time. it was surprising that even though, you spent more than 15 minutes waiting for them to exit the shop, that you arrived to the food court first. you and momo decided to stay back at your table while the girls went ahead to buy their lunch.

the conversation between you and momo went flawlessly, you felt perfectly content and comfortable as the two of you stood opposite of each other. however, the pleasant atmosphere disappeared when a boy, around your age or a bit older, slid in between you and momo, interrupting your conversation to start a new one with you.

“oh my, an angel sent from heaven. are you free later honey?” his voice was sickly sweet and the amount of cologne reeked off him so much that you had to stop yourself from gagging.

“leave me alone” you mumbled, trying to move away from him, even if he was shorter and less toned than your boyfriend, you still felt uncomfortable and anxious about the whole situation already.

“awh sweetheart, no need to play hard to get” he smirked, taking a step closer to you before leaning closer to your face “i’d treat you real nice, i promise” his tone sounded so fake, you started to feel sick as he grabbed your arm. you hadn’t had the chance to respond as you took a step back to put some space between you two, trying to free yourself from his grip, your back hitting a hard chest, a familiar hand wrapping itself over your waist.

unbeknownst to you, midoriya entered the food court with the boys the second this guy walked up to you. now midoriya doesn’t blame him, you’re a beautiful woman, he’s mesmerised every time he looks at you and he isn’t surprised that you catch the eyes of many. unfortunately to everyone else, you belong to him and him only.

midoriya started to walk towards you before the others could hold him back, aware of the destruction one for all could do when the green haired male is angry. since the boy in front of you hid momo behind him, you haven’t seen the way her eyes flickered behind you two, wide and shocked to see midoriya’s expression. your friends are used to midoriya’s timidity around you, you’re often louder and more confident while he follows you around like a huge lovesick puppy. it’s usually very funny how his larger frame, strong and muscular, becomes mushy when you’re around.

so this was new to everyone, the way his usual bright eyes were dark and sharp, jaw tight as his face was focused on the scumbag in front of him, standing at 6”3, muscles all tense, midoriya truly looked terrifying.

“she’s already taken” midoriya’s voice comes out deep, grumbling at the boy in front of you two, his arm tightly holding you close to him. if the situation was different, you know you would throw yourself at him, because damn, this side of him was so hot.

it’s funny to see the way the boy’s face in front of you changed within seconds. at first, you can tell that he wanted to come up with something to make himself look better, but as he took in the face above him, he seemed to realise that he’s no match for midoriya. it was hard to not recognise the future symbol of peace for anyone nowadays, but this asshole was 5 foot something, and stood nothing against those muscles midoriya gained over the years.

“i’m sorry” the boy stammered, looking quite embarrassed and avoided midoriya’s gaze, who seemed to press you more against him, so unless he spun you around to face him, you’re stuck like this. “i uh-i didn’t know” his words came out swiftly and tone very shaky, he finally lets go of your arm and you let it fall beside you, not daring to move.

todoroki comes up to stand next momo, kirishima and iida following behind, standing next to midoriya to make sure no punches are thrown. fortunately, nothing happens as midoriya sends a glare towards the boy, before moving you by the waist and starts leading you away from the table.

“are you okay? he didn’t hurt you, right?” midoriya’s voice is slightly strained from the sudden anger he felt from a few minutes ago, his hand stroking your waist and your side and presses his lips against the crown of your head.

“no, no i’m okay. you arrived just at the right time” you quietly said, a little bit shaken up from the events and shocked by midoriya’s behaviour.

“let’s get something to eat, yeah? what would you like? it’s my treat baby” your boyfriends cheery mood is starting to come back, even if his hold on you is still a little tight. you don’t see a point in arguing with him over about the payment of your lunch because you know that he won’t let you pay either way.

when the two of you return back to the table, everyone is already eating, so they are making space for the two of and you both join in. momo asks you right away if you’re okay and apologises to you for not being able to do anything.

“don’t worry momo! “you reassure her with a warm smile as you continue on eating your sushi.

“still, i feel bad! i should’ve said something” her voice sounded light as her eyes began to tear up. bless her, you think, she’s so kind hearted, so you stand up from your chair and hug her from behind, your face smushed with hers and she lets out an airy giggle and puts a hand on your arms for comfort.

“oh my god, let me take a picture! you two are so cute!!!” mina practically screams out loud, causing everyone to laugh around you. momo and you smile for the picture and you know it turned out rather cute.

you walk back to your seat next to midoriya, who now fully calmed down and grins at you as you sit down “besides, mr. number one here saved the day again” you add jokingly, leaning against midoriya’s chest as he puts an arm around your shoulders. “never knew you could be so possessive izu” you whisper to him and his cheeks flush red, causing you to giggle.

“can we talk about how scary izuku looked, like i’ve never seen him so terrifying before unless he’s in a fight” kaminari says with sero and mineta nodding next to him, discussing how they never want to make midoriya mad again because they nearly shitted themselves.

“like sure, katsuki can be very intimidating, but holy shit dude, that was another level” kirishima adds, looking at midoriya with a toothy grin to make sure he doesn’t take it as an offence, which midoriya actually takes as a praise (in his mind).

“i don’t like it when someone hurts people i care about” the green haired man replies with a small smile, gently squeezing your shoulder and you smile to yourself from how safe you feel in his arms. “and no one messes with what’s mine” the last bit came out quite quietly, only heard by you as he tucked his face in your hair, and it was your turn to sit with a flushed face, making midoriya smirk.

the rest of the day went by, midoriya didn’t let you out of his sight and held your hand the whole way around.

oh lord, if only you knew this was just the mild level of midoriya’s boldness.

#bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x you #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku x y/n #izuku x reader #izuku x you #deku x reader #izuku midoryia x you #izuku midoriya x reader

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kitthepurplepotato · 7 days

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Side note: I’m not back from my hiatus I’m just posting this because I magically managed to finish this chapter before going berserk! Yay!

Chapter 20 - Can I show you how much I love you? (18+)

Summary: You just wanted to eat breakfast. So how did you end up in the shower with your freakishly handsome boyfriend, kissing each other senseless?! And the bed?! When did you get there? What’s going on?! WHAT IS THIS SHENANIGAN?!

Warnings: Swear words, 18+!!! Contains a sex scene. (It’s mostly smut, so please, if you are not okay with that or you are under 18, skip this chapter or well… you know... 😂 Thank you!)

Also, this chapter is 7K so get some water and something to snack on!

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Rise and shine, you drunkard.” You giggle to yourself as you look at your fluffy, absolutely adorable boyfriend who’s already frowning from the light coming in through the window.

“Hey, you wanted me to have fun, which I certainly did.” Izuku retorts sassily. You can’t help but gawk at him which only makes the green head laugh. “I’ll be fine after I take my pills. I’m not in more pain than usual, I swear.”

“Still, drinking this much in your condition…” You mutter, probably ruining the mood completely but fuck, you are so worried. It’s terrible to see such a hard working man so down, physically and mentally. You want him to be healthy and happy again, you want him to smile freely and sleep peacefully like he used to. You want to shield him from any harm, make sure nothing prolongs his current suffering but at the same time, you understand that’s he’s not a fragile human being who needs to be pampered the entire time, however, you still can’t help but want to do that.

“Sweets, I asked.” Izuku sighs. “The doctor said it’s fine. I’m fine. You are fine. Everything is fine.” He slowly strokes your cheeks until you finally relax. It takes a little bit of time, but eventually, you get there. “What do you want to do today, love?” Izuku smiles at you and it’s quite pathetic how your heart rate rises every time he’s sweet to you, even to this day. You’ve been together for long enough to get used to these touches but somehow, you just… can’t.

“Well, Katsuki, Ei, Shouto, Mirio and Tamaki went ‘monster hunting’ early in the morning. By that, I think they meant they are going to climb the big mountain. Denki is still KO so Hitoshi brought him back to their own cabin when Katsuki and the gang left for their adventures. Kyouka and Momo went down to the high street for a shopping spree. Rody went down with them to spend some time with his family. So once we clean up the bedding from the floor and… maybe we can just… chill today? In our own cabin? Try the onsen? Maybe?” Your cheeks are so flushed you are surprised Izuku haven’t commented on it yet.

“Hmm…” his cheeky hands find their way to your tummy under your shirt, slowly stroking your naked skin with a smug smirk on his face. What happened to shy Izuku?! Where is he?! Who’s this man?! “Sounds like a plan to me, Sweets.”

“If you keep doing that, we will never make it to our cabin.” You murmur into his ears with a shit-eating grin on your face. Izuku is out of the bed before you can say anything else, stuttering nonsense under his nose as he moves the so called “bedding” - a bunch of decorative pillows and massive blankets scattered on the floor - back to where they belong and he’s out of the door without a single word. You can’t help but giggle the whole way home.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” You snicker under your nose and Izuku gives you the sassiest side eye you’ve ever seen. It’s absolutely hilarious. “What?!” Oh no. You can’t stop giggling like an idiot. You really don’t need another tummy ache after yesterday’s shenanigans!

“I’m going to the onsen. Right now.” Izuku declares.

“No, not before breakfast.” You retort, standing with your hand on your hips like an angry mother.

“Oh yeah?” He comes closer, his smile bigger and bigger as you flush from his closeness. “Watch me.”

Ladies and gentleman, what happens now must be a fever dream… because Pro Hero Deku AKA Midoriya Izuku AKA Izu-Izu takes off his fucking shirt in the most attractive way possible and slowly sheds every single clothing off while you yell like a virgin with your eyes covered by your own hands.

“What the fuck, Izuku! Stop! Keep the boxers… oh my god, STOP THE VIOLENCE!” You laugh, cheekily peeking out between your fingers. “You also need to shower before going in! IZUKU LISTEN TO ME, YOU MENACE!”

“Only if you shower with me.” Izuku WINKS at you and you swear your soul just left your body for a second.

“Only if you eat breakfast.” You retort and by the surprised look on Izuku’s face, he didn’t think you’ll even consider saying yes to that question.

“You will… shower with me?” Izuku’s confidence is gone just like that, in a matter of milliseconds and you kinda feel the urge to just push him into the bathroom to prove how serious you were but you are way too hungry to even think properly right now so…

“After we had breakfast. I’m starving, Izu-Izu.”

“But… for real?”

“Well, we’ve been together for long enough to share a shower, haven’t we?” You answer with a massive blush on your face.

“I’ll re-heat the food Katsuki left for us.” Is all the answer you get before he trots away into the kitchen.

The mood… is heavy. There is just something in the air you can’t really describe, this weird tension, but not the bad kind… you don’t need to be a rocket scientist to know that today… something big will happen. It might just be the shower, seeing each other completely naked for the first time, but maybe it won’t stop there, maybe…

All the blood from your face goes somewhere else.

Calm down. Jesus Christ, woman, just calm down.

You were so deep in your thoughts you didn’t even realize the that the food is already heated up and ready to eat on the small table in the kitchen. The lovely scent of Katsuki’s food makes your tummy grumble; it might be weird to eat lunch for breakfast, but you literally can’t even be bothered to comment on it; in your household, it’s quite normal to eat whatever you guys want, whenever you want it, thanks to Izuku’s inhuman shift patterns. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, afternoon snack; food is food. That’s your household’s motto.

“The food is served, my princess!” Izuku’s adorable face appears in front of you; he bows low and makes that arm movement the butlers do in those dramas in the TV. The whole scene would be quite funny if he wouldn’t be wearing one single underwear and nothing else.

Let’s just say it’s hard to laugh when you are too focused on… well… the curves. The shapes. The godly body. Those massive fucking legs which could crush your head like a watermelon without even flinching…

“The food is indeed served.” You mutter under your nose, loudly by accident and Izuku starts to laugh, tears prickling his eyes as he holds his tummy, probably trying not to throw up once again.

“Oh… my… god… Sweets… I didn’t see that coming.”

“Me neither!” You yell as you pass by your stupidly attractive boyfriend, completely avoiding eye contact because there is no way you can look at him right now with how embarrassed you are. “Put on a fucking shirt!”

Izuku laughs some more but obliges at the end.

Thank fuck.

~•🥦•~

“If you changed your mind, that’s okay.” Izuku caresses your face as you two stand in the bathroom, still clothed. You are quite sure your face is the color of Eijirou’s hair right now. Your limbs are shaking like a leaf and you feel so much anxiety you could cry. It’s stupid, really; it’s not like it’s your first time to be naked in front of somebody, yet it really does feel like it is; Izuku is not like the others, he’ll actually look at you, look at your curves and the tiny little flaws and he’ll remember everything until the day he dies, cherish them like they are something special, because that’s who Midoriya Izuku is; the most caring, most loving partner the world has ever seen.

“I want this.” You declare confidently. “Yes.” You nod to yourself with a tiny pout on your face.

“Yes.” Izuku parrots, making the same, tiny pout then he gives you a smile that makes your insides melt right away. “You are so cute, Sweets. I love you so much.”

“Shut up and get naked!” You yell with a red face. He’s too much. This is too much. He’s too perfect. You can’t even take his teasing seriously with how much love you see in his eyes as he does it.

“Hey, you are not the only one freaking out here!” Izuku yelps awkwardly. “Turn around… please?”

His wavering voice make you look up to his face; he’s flushed and trembly as he slowly takes his shirt off, the movement full of hesitation. You really feel the urge to mention how only an hour ago, he wasn’t this shy about stripping in front of you, but you keep your thoughts to yourself.

“You can also change your mind, you know.” You finally turn around to give him some privacy.

“I’ve been waiting for this ages. There is no way in hell I’ll back out of this just because of my stupid anxiety.” Izuku grumbles, more to himself than to you. “You’ve seen me naked before. You’ve seen my scars. You know all my secrets. I have no reason for me to feel so ashamed of myself. It’s all in my head… I know I’m not ugly. That’s a lie, fuck… I know… I know you think I’m… okay. I know you won’t mind… me looking like this. Most and foremost, I know you love me for who I am and not for how I look like…” he mumbles and mumbles, not realizing you managed to get out of your clothes by the time he managed to get to his underwear. Your eyes are filled with tears from his words, you want to slap him in the face for hating himself like that and kiss him senseless out of pride for finally realizing it’s all in his head.

With that said…

“Izuku, look at me.” You appear behind your boyfriend, probably standing way too close for it to be appropriate, but you don’t care right now.

Izuku bumps right into you when he turns around; a tiny yelp leaves his mouth as your breasts bounce on his chest. “If I ever hear you calling yourself ugly I’ll pull out every single one of your leg hairs with a tweezer, one buy one, in the most painful way possible. Now turn around, finish what you are doing and see you in the shower.”

“That’s weirdly… evil.” Izuku snickers but by the look of it, you plan worked because he looks much less anxious now. You quickly go inside the shower cubicle to hide, not giving the man too much time to check you out… yet.

You can hear some rustling from outside then Izuku takes a few deep breaths and steps inside the now foggy shower and… you forget how to breathe.

Izuku looks gorgeous on a normal day, but this… is downright sinful. Izuku is stocky but not in the wrong way; you knew that already but with his underwear now gone, you can see how perfect the proportion is. He’s perfect. His shoulders are massive, but he has a nice curve to his body and there is a tiny trail of green hair leading towards his perfectly trimmed intimate area, also pine green just like his hair… then… that’s… a monster between his legs. Yup. You slowly look up and to the side to calm yourself down because that sight went straight into your core and this shower doesn’t feel that innocent anymore.

“Sweets, I… I’ll have problems down there if you keep looking this pretty, just giving you a heads up.” Izuku whines with a high pitched voice. By the time you wake up from your daze he already turned his back to you (you try your best not to stare at that gorgeous fucking ass, because hell, that thing looks like it was carved by a horny but extremely talented sculptor), probably ashamed of himself for feeling this way. You can’t help but speak up.

“If I would… have the same thing between my legs, I would have the same problem.” You admit sheepishly.

“Why are we so awkward about the stupidest things?” Izuku giggles. You want to pinch him. (His ass. You want to pinch his ass. That’s what you want to do you cheeky sod.)

“I don’t mind. I think it’s really… us, that we act this way. I wouldn’t have this any other way.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Say that again and I’ll forcefully kiss you.”

“Hm. That doesn’t sound that bad.”

“IZUKU!“ you yell into the small space as you hide your face in your palms like that helps anything. Your forehead ends up on Izuku’s back and he yelps helplessly; you don’t need to see his face to know he’s red all over because even the back of his neck is the color of a lobster.

“Okay, I’m done with this awkwardness.” Izuku takes a deep breath and the next moment, your back hits the wall. You can’t help, but whimper. “Sweets, you are the most perfect human being I’ve ever seen and I’ve been waiting for this moment for ages, so I’m sorry for… uhm… being a little bit too excited right now but I really want to wash your back if you… uhm…” Izuku stops in the middle of the sentence as he’s incapable to continue thanks to your mouth being on his.

You can’t help it. Just… can’t. Your body moved on its own.

Izuku is irresistible. His gorgeous muscles, the veins on his arms, the softness of his wet skin, topped up with his kind words and pretty freckles is just too much after all this time; you wanted to touch him for so long, you wanted to feel him for months which honestly, feels like decades at this point… it feels like the love is about to burst out of your chest but there are no words strong enough to satiate your soul, to make it clear enough for the other the understand the depth of your feelings and your body is not listening to you anymore; the desire has festered into something unstoppable, it clouded your mind completely until there were no thoughts there just Izuku himself, freckled cheeks and pine green hair, the broccoli…

Wait.

“If this is your way to make this less awkward… it works.” Izuku kisses you back with a newly found vehemence, scorching hot yet so careful, but you don’t kiss back anymore… you push the man away like he just burned you, because… “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“I forgot!”

“What?”

“How did I forget about it?” You whimper, completely ashamed of yourself. “I can’t believe I was so astonished by your… uhm… that I forgot to check it out! I’m the worst!”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, is the water too hot?” Izuku blinks at you, completely lost.

“The broccoli! I forgot about your broccoli! I can’t believe this!”

Izuku… bursts out laughing. He’s folded in half, his forehead basically cushioned by your boobs, shaking like a leaf from guffawing too hard.

“You pushed me away in the middle of a heavy, naked make-out session because you wanted to see my tattoo?” He looks into your eyes with an incredulous, but fond gaze.

“It’s important to me!” You mutter under your nose and Izuku doesn’t even answer you anymore; he just moves away and pushes his hip out, showing off his tiny, adorable broccoli tattoo sitting on his hipbone. You can’t stop your fingers from reaching out, caressing the colored skin with nothing but wonder in your eyes. “It’s so cute.”

Your boyfriend looks so much leaner than he usually does - you realize as you caress his strong hipbone, your fingers cheekily running over the dip by his waist.

Damn, you’ll never ever get over his thighs. Every time you look at them you remember his photoshoot with Mirko, the one that made Izuku a fashion icon, a genderless beauty because hell, Izuku is as manly as they get but… that man in Mirko’s costume kinda made you question your own sexuality.

Maybe you are just Izuku-sexual. He could be a man, a woman, someone between the two, hell, a fucking midget and you would still be attracted to him.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N.” Izuku sighs, right next to your ears. The fire burns even stronger inside you. The feeling only gets worse when his hand travels from your waist to the side of your breast, his thumb cheekily caressing the plump, soft skin. You make the mistake of looking down out of pure embarrassment just to be face to face with the proof of how much Izuku likes what he sees.

You can’t see it, but you can feel him staring at you; you look up and you are met with two heavily lidded eyes taking in the sight from the top of your head down to your feet, over and over. There is a new shine to them now, hot and scorching and you completely melt under that loving gaze; he takes that as a permission to take it further and starts peppering kisses all over your wet neck. You can’t help but move your hand into his soft, dripping curls; you clench your hand around the strands and Izuku makes a sinful sound which goes right into your center and the next few minutes are kinda a blur; things fall from the small shelving system inside the cubicle, someone slips, someone bites, someone moans, there is a constant pressure by your belly, something hard, but also soft to the touch, there are hands on your chest, on your back, on your thighs, everywhere, really.

Your whole body is on fire and so is his; the water is way too cold, but even that can not ruin the moment you two are having.

There are no thoughts in your head, just him. Izuku Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku. Calloused fingers and the feeling of scars under your hands, hard muscle and soft skin, bouncy curls, the scent of Izuku’s shower gel, which somehow decided to appear out of nowhere (he probably took it off the shelf while you were too busy kissing him senseless and actually decided to be useful and clean you up while touching you all over), there is so much going on yet your mind is completely empty.

This is what Izuku does to you on a daily basis. He comes close and you forget who you are.

The scent of Izuku’s shower gel only sends thrill down your spine; the knowledge that for the next few hours you’ll smell like him, taste like him just ignites your body once again, the flames even stronger than before, you can’t help but touch him, first just his arms, then the tattoo on his side, the back of his neck, his collarbone, then the soft hair right on top of his member. You didn’t touch him properly but a wanton moan leaves Izuku’s mouth right as your fingers start to caress the hair down there then suddenly, Izuku gently slaps your hand away from that area.

You don’t have time to freak out about “going too far”; the next moment your back hits the wall once again, your legs somehow make their way around the man’s extremely attractive waist then he slowly moves you lower and lower until you feel something soft but sturdy right between your folds, just like the last time you two enjoyed each other’s company in the hot tub.

“Tell me to stop.” Izuku whimpers right into your ears then ends his sentence by biting down on your ear. His whole body shakes from the restraint, his palms are aggressively gripping your side and the back of your neck; Izuku is doing his fucking best to not move his hips forward, to not let him feel the pleasure of the friction because once it’s done, there is no way back for him; there is a limit to his restraint, there is a limit to how much of this can Izuku take without losing his goddamn mind…

You tear Izuku’s walls down with one single movement, with just a tiny little friction and you both moan in tandem as the pleasure creates goosebumps on your skin, but maybe, it’s just the cold water coming from the shower head; it doesn’t matter though because your answer is loud and clear and that’s all it takes for Izuku to turn off the shower with one hand and manhandle you into a towel-burrito before he takes you to the bedroom like a princess, his teeth clattering from the cold.

You should feel shy and embarrassed. You should be freaking out when Izuku drops you down on the bed and towers over you with your boobs halfway out of your towel.

You don’t feel any of that. Neither is he.

It just feels… normal. Exciting.

“Finally…” Izuku giggles with excitement sparkling in his gorgeous eyes. He pulls the cover on top of you both and takes a few deep breaths to stop the shaking of his body; he waits a few minutes in silence, just staring at your chest and face, remembering it all while your bodies get warmer under the cover and the goosebumps are finally gone. You trace the old scars on his chest and his tummy, you give them all the love you possibly can without saying a single word. The silence isn’t awkward… this silence is… precious. It’s like there’s no need for words, no need for verbal communication because everything is written all over your faces, it’s in every single caress, every single kiss, every single sigh that leaves your mouths as you touch each other in new places. Your hand can’t get away from that perfectly trimmed bush on top of Izuku’s member so you find yourself there once again, just caressing the prickly skin, enjoying the way it feels under your fingertips.

The mood is calmer now, more mature but still full of those flames from before; it’s a weird, conflicting combination but it somehow works for you two. “Sweet pea.” Izuku whimpers while his free hand fondles your boob. You can’t help but moan into the air between you two as his thumps finds your bud and starts fiddling with it. “Can I show you how much I love you?” All you can do is nod weakly, your eyes full of tears. No one ever treated you like this, like you are a goddess who deserves to be worshipped, like every caress is a gift, like your body is something worth cherishing and you feel so loved already you kinda want to tell him to not even bother anymore, but you don’t have the heart to do that after looking into his half-lidded, excited eyes.

“Please.” You smile at your boyfriend happily. He bumps your foreheads together for a few seconds and smiles right back; this moment is special, it feels like there is a red string connecting you two together, the one that’s indestructible and infinite; the strings of faith are almost visible now as Izuku leans down to connect your chests, but maybe you are just too delirious and too aroused to be able to distinguish delusion from reality.

Izuku seals the deal with the hottest kiss known to mankind and you are halfway to your orgasm already and he haven’t even touched you yet.

“Plus Ultra!” Izuku gives you one last smile before he dives under the covers, right between your legs and you scream his name as you come in less than 3 minutes. Three. Fucking. Minutes.

He just… went in and… oh my god. Midoriya Izuku, goddamn Pro Hero Deku just… he’s… really talented with his tongue. Let’s just leave it at that.

You need 5 to 7 days to get over the fact that you just received the best oral you’ve ever had and it was from your favorite pro Hero who you are ridiculously in love with.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done.” You can feel Izuku’s smile on the inside of your thighs as he starts peppering kisses all over the area. It’s so loving and so careful, so slow yet so passionate… you can’t help but feel the arousal wake up inside you once again. “I really love your legs. I always wanted to kiss them. They are so soft and your thighs are so… ahh, I wanna sleep on them. They are better than the best memory foam pillow on the market. You also taste really nice. I think I’m becoming addicted.” Izuku goes back to the “treasure” and leaves tiny kisses all over your folds, teasing the most sensitive parts with his tongue to steal another taste. You can’t help but whimper; it’s extremely sensitive now but the touch is light enough to be pleasurable even in this state.

“I also love your tummy. Having a six pack is great, but I really enjoy soft and cute things.” Izuku adds with an obsessed tone which makes you blush like a virgin. “You are the softest and cutest of them all. I love you.” Izuku leaves a trail of kisses all over your tummy until he reaches your chest; he pops your bud into his mouth and does something with his tongue that makes you see stars; it almost feels like swirling water, soft and languid. It’s extremely hard to describe the feeling without comparing Izuku’s tongue to a tentacle, which, let’s be honest, would make this fanfiction so much dirtier than it really is.

“I’m not even going to try and give these two a justice with my words.” Is all Izuku says before he takes your other bud into his mouth to give it some love. If you think this can’t get more hot, you are wrong; Izuku starts to nibble your chest gently, sucking on the soft skin without leaving a mark, his eyes downright manic as he makes sure there isn’t a single millimeter left unloved.

Needless to say, you guys will need to change the sheets after this because well… you are soaking wet. Again.

You try your best to hide this information from your boyfriend for now because while Izuku is a man on a mission, you also have your own plans and knowing how much Izuku enjoys giving, he wouldn’t let you do anything today until your “situation” is “sorted.”

“Izu-Izu.” You rake your fingers through Izuku’s hair, clenching your fist on the top of his head just to hear him moan once again. And again. And again. Hell, Izuku has the most sinful moan, high pitched and weirdly feminine; he always tries to stop himself in the middle of the sound and the way his voice falters and breaks, then goes so high in the last one second… just makes your “situation” even worse. “Let me love you too, goddamnit!” You whine and moan at the same time. Izuku stops with his shenanigans for one second and that’s all you need to finally manage to roll him over and end up in his lap. You are not going to lie, it took all of your strength to be able to do that and you are panting a little bit but it was all worth it for the sight; he is blushing like crazy and he looks so lost now that he’s not in charge. You don’t even try to stop yourself from kissing him senseless, it’s physically impossible to do so.

“I feel like I’m going to explode.” You admit between two kisses. “Fucking hell, Izuku, are you even human? Is this another quirk of yours? Are you a lust demon? How can you do stuff like that with this adorable, innocent face? How?” You complain, while Izuku giggles. “Don’t fucking giggle, I’m serious!”

“I think I have a thing for being manhandled. I’m also about to explode.” He admits sheepishly with his hand wondering down to your bottom cheekily. You take a deep breath and move down to his belly, not letting him touch your private parts because it’s your turn now to love him endlessly and you want to do it without any distractions.

“Good. Suffer with me.” You retort cheekily and Izuku giggles once more. “You have so many freckles on your chest and tummy, I love it so much. I love your freckles, have I ever told you that?” You mumble as you kiss Izuku’s hard abs. His hands wander into your hair the same way yours did and you can kinda understand why is Izuku so hot and bothered when you do that to him.

“No, you didn’t.” Izuku chokes on air.

“Well, now you know.” You answer simply. “You have the body of a god, but I like your face the most. And your hair. And how some of your scars are softer to touch than your normal skin. I love the texture. Like this one.” Your hand moves up to Izuku’s pecks, caressing the massive scar on the side of his left breast. “You are so handsome but nothing is as pretty as your soul. Izuku, you look perfect from the outside but compared to you as a person, it’s fucking nothing. If I would have a quirk I would want to be able to go inside your soul… just so I can kiss it senseless.” You make no sense. You are aware of it. No need to comment on it. How the fuck are you supposed to stay coherent in this situation?! It doesn’t feel real. It’s too fucking good to be real.

A tiny sob cuts through the tension and you emerge from the covers to look into your boyfriend’s eyes. Of course, he’s crying. “You are such a crybaby.” You smile down at him with nothing but fondness. “My little crybaby. I love you so much.” You leave a tiny kiss on his mouth.

“No one… ever… made me feel like this.” Izuku admits between two sobs. “Like I’m the best thing in the whole world. No one ever managed to actually make me believe them, but you… you make it sound like it’s possible that I’m not… a failure. I feel so loved I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Enjoy it. You deserve it. You are the best thing, at least for me.” You leave tiny kisses on your boyfriend’s neck to divert his attention.

“And you are the best thing, for me.” He retorts with a sigh. “I want to build a shrine to you and pray for your well-being every day. I want to do this every day… I want to eat and drink YOU, I want to become YOU… I want us to become one and stay like that forever, because I’m the best thing only because you are next to me. Fuck, that doesn’t make any sense and it sounded so much cooler in my head…” Izuku mutters shyly, looking at the wall due to his embarrassment.

“Let’s become one, then. We can’t stay like that forever, but… I want… uhm…” you mumble with a red face as you move one of your hands under the covers to caress his painfully hard member with one finger. Izuku almost chokes on his saliva just from this one touch. It fills you with pride.

You absolutely enjoy the way Izuku is writhing under you, his face contorted by the pleasure while your hand moves on his member up and down, slow but steady. He doesn’t let you enjoy the game for too long; one second you are in charge then the next your back hits the soft bed once again and Izuku’s finger finds his way to his folds, slowly easing the first finger inside, followed by the second almost immediately.

“Sweets… you really like me this much?” Izuku moves his fingers around your folds to feel the wetness around the area. You can’t help but look away shyly, completely embarrassed from being so excited. Your plan failed. Goddamnit.

“Sorry…”

“What? No! Don’t be!” Izuku freaks out for a split second. “I’m just… really happy. I loose my confidence in bed really quickly but you make it so easy for me. Your whole body speaks to me, it tells me it’s okay, that this is good for you and I’m so thankful.” Izuku slowly eases the third finger in; a quiet whimper leaves your mouth as he starts scissoring inside to make this as easy for you as possible. “I’ll make sure to thank you by being the best partner now and forever. Sweets… Y/N… can I…”

“Fucks sake, Izu, yes. You can do whatever you want. I’m yours and you are mine. That’s all I need to know.”

“Okay.” Izuku nods, clearly spiraling a little bit. “Yeah, uhm, I’m gonna get the… stuff. Just stay here.”

“Damn, I was about to run out for some coffee.” You add jokingly, but Izuku is on a mission and he can’t understand sarcasm…

“I’ll get you some coffee from the kitchen, then!”

You start laughing like a maniac.

“Oh my god, I was joking, you silly. Hurry up!”

“Oh… I’m an idiot.” Izuku takes the box of condoms out of his backpack. You will make sure to ask him later about the fact that he had some with him… Cheeky little fuck.

You also try your best to not stare at that perfect butt. Damn, you are eating well today!

He has a few stretch marks on his back, but it’s only visible when you look really closely; which you do because you can’t help yourself, even though you literally just said that you won’t.

“Yeah, but you are my idiot. Now get back here and love me.” You continue to stare at that perfect peach, but Izuku turns around and you look away swiftly because the front is just as delicious as the back and you honestly don’t think you can take more of this right now. It’s quite comical how the color of his broccoli tattoo is the same as his hair down there; its a little bit sad how you’ll never be able to boast on your “Deku lovers” group chat about it. They would probably laugh in your face anyway, thinking you are a liar because there is no way the perfect pro hero Deku has a silly little broccoli tattoo.

“Okay.” Izuku grins with a flushed face and barges back into the bed, right into your arms.

He starts peppering kisses all over your neck, giggling happily like a schoolboy, then moves back to your face to leave another scorching hot kiss on your mouth while his hand slowly wonders down to your intimate areas to make sure you are ready for the “good stuff.”

It takes all your self-restraint to not come from the sight on top of you; Izuku’s hair is disheveled and he looks so fucking out of it that you would think he’s being touched himself, but your hands are in his hair and you feel no friction anywhere on your body which means he just… enjoys pleasing you so much it makes him look like he’s five seconds from coming. His fingers stop moving and he slowly retracts them, leaving you empty and sad for a split of a second but then he puts the condom package into his mouth and tears it open while keeping eye contact with you the whole time and you swear you see stars. Izuku is just too much. Too hot and too dirty but also so innocent and loving, it just doesn’t make sense, really… but…

“Are you ready, Sweets? Tell me if it hurts, okay? Promise me.” He looks at you worriedly and your heart just melts inside your chest and becomes nothing but a big lump of goo.

“I promise… OH MY GOD.” You almost yell as you feel the first few centimeters inside you. Izuku bites his lips once and takes a few deep breath, not moving, just waiting for you to get used to the sting, to the almost foreign sensation because damn, the man isn’t small and it has been ages you’ve been in this situation with anyone. “I’m fine, I’m fine, keep going, Izu.” You try to reassure him as best as you can. It starts to feel really good down there even though he’s not even halfway in.

He slowly moves further and the sting is back but it’s not as bad as it was before; it really quickly turns into an intoxicatingly amazing sensation that makes your whole body tremble and Izuku drops his face on your chest, his whole body shaking like a leaf.

“Relax or I’ll really embarrass myself. Please. You feel too good. Why didn’t we do this sooner?” He mutters into your breasts and if you wouldn’t be so aroused you would have laughed in his face for being so cute, but…

“You can move. Please. Move.” You stutter as a sudden wave of pleasure hits you just right. Izuku doesn’t say anything just moves back to his original position and slides out a bit and then back again and you are so happy everyone is out and about because you are quite sure the whole neighborhood just heard you moan. “Izu…”

“I think I’m going to cry again, but it’s happy tears.” Izuku admits sheepishly while he starts a slow but steady pace. His moans are quiet and his voice breaks quite frequently but there is something about it that makes you tremble in pleasure; probably the fact that you are the reason he sounds like that, deep but also squeaky, you are the reason his face is flushed from all the bliss… you feel so lucky to be able to experience this, to feel all this love, to be the reason for Izuku’s happy tears; you are so thankful for taking that big leap of faith by moving in with a stranger all those months ago.

“I love… love you. Izu. Izuku.” You stutter as Izuku’s pace picks up and you are absolutely incapable to think from this point; you both moan each other’s name in tandem as you chase your orgasms, Izuku clearly tries his best to keep his focus on you, to listen to where and how it feels the best and slowly but surely that pleasant feeling starts to build up with every thrust Izuku delivers to the right spot; Izuku’s arms start to tremble and it makes you stop for a second; this shaking doesn’t seem to be from the pleasure and Izuku looks a little bit stressed as you look into his eyes so you put your hand on his chest, silently asking for him to stop.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Izuku starts to apologize but you are not having any of that.

“Lay down.” You command kindly. Izuku looks utterly confused for a second but he does it anyway. You don’t give him a single warning before you sit in his lap with your hands perched on his naked, beautifully sculpted chest and slowly ease yourself back down on his length. Izuku’s face contorts in utter pleasure, now that his arms are not hurting anymore and you pat yourself on the back inside your little mind palace for realizing something is wrong even while your mind was clouded by all the new sensations. “Good boy.” You caress Izuku’s muscly chest. Izuku moans loudly and moves his hip upwards, finding that special point once again, even in this new position.

Izuku looks ethereal from this point of view; his hair is splayed out on the white pillow, no curly strand the same as the other, his face is flushed and his eyes are sparkling like a rare gemstone, gaze full of love and lust and by that look on his face, he doesn’t mind this position either; every single movement makes his face scrunch up, his moans becoming hiccups and silent pleas to keep doing what you are doing, just like that, and it barely takes 10 more minutes for you two to feel the coil inside your tummy snap, Izuku doing the same a few more thrusts later.

You’ve never come this hard before. Your body shakes violently and you barely keep yourself up right while Izuku moves his hips up and down really slowly to prolong this amazing feeling, tears prickle your eyes from the pleasure, and once the feeling is gone you collapse on Izuku’s chest; you didn’t realize how much you strained your legs by doing this until you came down from your high, but when it it hit, you couldn’t help but whimper, this time, from the pain.

There are some other parts of your body that feel a tiny bit funny right after you two separate with a whimper, but honestly, you’ve seen that coming.

“I’ve never done this this way.” Izuku admits shyly.

“Never?” You look up at your boyfriend as you slowly move to his side; you need to lay down properly for a second. Everything is spinning.

“No. It was always… me doing everything. I want to do this again. And again. And again.”

“I’ll need to hit the gym then.” You giggle to yourself and seeing your boyfriend’s confused face, he doesn’t really understand the problem. “Izuku, this position… needs a lot of leg muscles. I don’t have any. I’m quite sure I pulled at least one muscle in both of my legs.”

“I’m more than happy to help you with that!” Izuku sits up excitedly. You give him a side eye. “Not like that, you silly! Actual training! And that, too, of course, but only if you want to do it again. I’m okay with anything until it’s you.”

You want to put this man on a plate and eat him. How can he be so sweet?!

“I love you, you weirdo.” You giggle into his hair then you leave a tiny kiss on his neck as a silent thank you.

“I love you too, Sweets. Let’s have a few minutes of rest then let’s go to the onsen.”

“Oh my god, the onsen sounds magical right now.” You sigh, utterly pleased. “Izu?”

“Hm?”

“Are you happy?”

“I’m the happiest fucking freak in the whole wide world, Sweets.” He smiles. “Are you happy?”

“I think I’m high on happiness.” You pant, exhausted.

“Good. Me too.”

… to be continued!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- I can’t believe this finally happened! Honestly, I’m not a big fan of writing these kind of things but even I was excited about this to finally happen because the tension was absolutely ridiculous! 😂 Not gonna lie, I have many other ideas about what this version of Izuku likes but I probably won’t be able to use them as they would be too dirty for this otherwise innocent story. 😂 I love these two so much, they are so perfect for each other!

- I hope you guys are okay. Sorry for not responding to your lovely comments, I read them all and I send you all hugs! I hope I will see you soon but to be honest with you, I don’t think it will be sooner than 4 weeks, maybe more if shit goes south in my life.

- There will be changes to my uploads when I come back, I’ll leave a note for you guys once we get to it. I might need you to answer some questions too, because I have no idea what to do 😂

- Random personal ramble: so funny story about my recent life; I went home to my home country to see my mom and I told her about how much I want an airfryer but I don’t really have space for it nor money to spare. I didn’t know she actually owns one so I got really excited when I saw it! A day after I came back to England there was an Amazon order on my doorstep that I didn’t order. Guys, my mom went on Amazon and bought me an airfryer. I’ve been making cakes and baked apples every day since. Get an air fryer if you can. It’s amazing. Thank you for listening. 😂

Here’s a quick, delish recipe for you: get some apples, cut them in half, get rid of the stem, put a bunch of Nutella in it then sprinkle cinnamon on top (or pour half of the bottle on it like I do. Lol). Bake it for 40 mins on 160C. You are welcome. (You can also use dark chocolate instead of Nutella if you wanna make it healthier. You can also hide a walnut inside. Omnomnom.

- I’ll shut up now. Tell me your thoughts!

TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @themultifandomgirl @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave @alyss-eiz @sleepisfortheweakpooh

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #pro hero deku x you #pro hero deku x reader #deku x fem!reader #deku x y/n #deku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #izuku x y/n

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nivtee · 11 months

Text

: ̗̀➛ THE DOOR. midoriya izuku

midoriya izuku x fem!reader

smut ! talking during sex ! blurb

midoriya has waited all week and he won't let anything interrupt him

— midoriya who begs you to let him eat you out as soon as he walks into your dorm room

— the last time he'd been down there, you two had been interrupted by one of your friends demanding you head into town, and deku, being the sweet boy he is, let you go without hassle

— he did have to fuck his fist right after you left but that was okay

— but today, as soon as training ends, he's pushed your through the entrance of his dorm, so your friends can't come looking for you again

— and then your front is pressed against the door, back arched and hands gripping onto whatever divits you could find.

— his hands spread apart your cheeks, and he moans, genuinely moans, as seeing your glistening cunt fluttering around nothing.

— you aren't even naked, your skirt simply bunched around your waist and your tights and panties pulled down around your ankles. midoriya is still fully dressed, but his shirt is unbuttoned.

— its barely a second that you get without his lips pressed against you, and then his tongue is pressing in and slipping through your folds and you cant think

— you're moaning against the door, izuku has his face pressed so far between your cheeks you think he'd suffocate, and you can feel the tip of his nose press against the pink rim of your hole.

— "midoirya? you in there?"

— its fucking todoroki.

— you go to straighten up and get yourself presentable, pushing off the door, but then midoriya is pushing his finger through the fluttering mucle of your ass, and you have to shove your hand into your mouth to bite back a moan.

— "hey todoroki! you need something?"

— somehow holds a full length conversation with todoroki in between tonguing your slit and lapping at your juices.

— you smack him at the end of it.

#✎dosiewrites #oneshot #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha #midoriya izuku x you #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #bnha midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x yn

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alottieluv · 1 year

Note

I’d hold dekus dick for him after a long day, mans deserves it

mdni. oral (m!receiving), dick talk.

omg when i tell u that i literally almost folded in public reading this earlier. nearly stopped walking just to process this brainrot because

holding izuku’s dick comes so naturally. the slight curve, the thickness of it, and the small bead of precum at his tip that’s just the cherry on top of it all.

but izuku has certain feelings about seeing you holding his cock in your mouth. the sight of your teary eyes puts him on a sick high, makes him want to push in further until those tears actually spill over.

he groans when his tip hits the back of your throat, tightening around a little more than half of his length. you can’t even take all of him but fuck, you look adorable trying. so just once, he’s shows you mercy. “take a deep breath for me, baby.” that’s the only warning you get before he’s shoving himself down your throat, the sounds of you gagging around his cock making him thrust faster into your mouth. when you hollow your cheeks, a sharp gasp is pulled from him.

even as your lungs scream, your want to pleasure him overpowers. “you want my cum? milking me so good, i might just give it to you.” it became inevitable when you moaned around his cock, the vibrations giving him a last push before he tipped over and spilled into your mouth.

he almost grabs his phone to take a picture of the sight he’s left with. lips still wrapped around his softening cock, a mix of his essence and your saliva spilling from the sides and dripping onto your lap. the mess, the sloppiness. he loves it all. and all he can think about is how you’re just so good to him.

#lottie writings ! ~ ☆#lottie answers ! ~ ☆#man deserves everything after what he’s been through #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha smut #mha x reader #izuku smut #midoriya izuku x you #midoriya smut #midoriya x you #bnha fanfiction #deku x y/n #deku smut #deku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader

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sixosix · 1 year

Text

KATSUKI & IZUKU: IT WENT LIKE THAT

( ? ) an interview from you (following the events of “it goes like this”)

you’re not saying you regret coming here, but you regret coming here a little bit.

“so, y/n-san,” kana says with a dangerous sparkle in her eyes. you’re acutely aware of the camera pointed right at you. “onto the next question: who’s your celebrity crush?”

“celebrity crush…? oh, that’s a hard one.” there are excited murmurs from the audience, all speculating. there are whispers about bakugou and izuku’s names; you pointedly ignore them. “i don’t know, really. a tie between mirko and hawks.”

izuku is going to grill you about this later.

“ah, makes sense,” kana nods, accepting your answer without further digging. “they’re the top two every time i ask that question.”

you don’t know how to respond to that, so you opt for a smile and a nod.

kana lights up when she moves on to the next question, and the people seated in rows across you fall hushed in anticipation. she giggles, almost maniacally, bringing the mic closer to her lips.

“you’re really close with deku and dynamight, right?”

you already know where this is going. with practiced ease, you lean against the couch, picking careful words that wouldn’t make villains froth in the mouths for a chance to break your ties. “we’re a trio.”

“right, right!” kana shivers with glee. “so, tell us about your favorite moment with deku and dynamight!”

there are cheers of encouragement and approval, nearly startling you out of your seat had you not been prepared. but any mention of their names when talking to you is always the most prominent font in headlines.

you have a feeling that once you return home, you’ll be bombarded with a series of explosions from katsuki and embarrassed whining from izuku. but that’s a problem for you later—right now, you’re here to please the audience.

“what’s my favorite moment with deku and dynamight?”

your first and favorite memory with bakugou katsuki was witnessing the start of his crude language. he taught you the phrase ‘eat shit and die’, and you find it funny to say, so you let him teach you.

he found out about it from a world-weary employee walking past and cursing out his phone, frustrated to hell. he wasn’t dressed like a villain, only someone who carried dark eyebags and a dingy, old phone. he shut up pretty quickly upon the sight of katsuki’s sharp red eyes as if expecting him to tattle tale to his mom.

instead, he turned to you and izuku, and recited those words wholeheartedly. he found the horrified looks of grown-ups to be funny.

izuku was confused, and you cackled.

he took this as encouragement because the next day, he’d found thousands of creative ways to spew nonsensical insults strung together loosely with shit and fuck.

“it fucking helps me express my shitty emotions,” five-year-old katsuki said solemnly, right after he tormented izuku with a bunch of it just to stress the poor boy out. izuku had to learn the hard way that eat shit and die is not a phrase of encouragement.

(katsuki’s smile was strangely fond and soft when you kept laughing—not that you’d indulge the audience too much by giving them that.)

“so dynamight was always like this, huh…” kana murmurs thoughtfully, giggling along with the audience.

“it’s not surprising,” you snort, “he’s fluent in the arts of being a little brat, as his parents say. we still love him for it, don’t we?”

your first and favorite memory with midoriya izuku was when you met him.

you don’t remember every detail—only bits and pieces that often keep you awake at night, thinking, “if things turned out differently, would i still be here?”. the answer was yes, you would. on a stage someday, maybe, but to miss out on izuku and katsuki sounds like a bland world to live in.

you recall stumbling into the classroom, still hanging on to the fragments of sleep your family rudely interrupted just for something as stupid as kindergarten.

katsuki was surrounded by the class, preening like a proud cat. izuku, on the other hand, was staring right at you with wide, curious eyes that resembled a puppy.

“do you have a quirk?” he asked, and the fun facts about your pet fish you practiced the day beforehand all dissipated instantly.

“i… do,” you murmured, thumbing at the hem of your shirt. “‘s not cool, though. so i don’t want to tell you.”

the strange boy with green curls looked as if you had just told him that all might retired. “i bet that’s not true! every quirk is cool! kacchan has a quirk that makes him boom!”

“...boom?”

he nodded, beaming, hopping up and down. “he can create explosives with his hands by igniting the nitroglycerin he sweats!”

“um, excuse me?” who even is kacchan? and what’s a night-row-glistening?

he continued to peer up at you as if the kacchan person was enough to convince you to reveal your secrets to him.

(you leave this part from the audience, knowing that it would raise suspicion about izuku’s quirk origins, but it went like this:

tired and a little irritated, you ask, “what’s your quirk, huh?”

izuku froze, his expression blanking for a split second before it fell into a hesitant one. “i don’t have one, yet. but i’ll get it soon! and even if i didn’t have a quirk, that wouldn’t stop me from becoming a hero!”)

and so, you focused on the pen in his hand and tried to hide a smirk when his jaw dropped to the floor when it began to float mid-air, followed shortly after by his notebook. (your quirk is nothing special. useful, maybe—especially in your line of work where you’re in charge of handling hero equipment—but nothing special. until now, you never understood why izuku…)

“oi, deku, who’s this?” a blond materialized out of nowhere, staring blankly at a pen and notebook hovering.

“kacchan!” deku practically shrieked, ignoring the grunt of christ from his best friend. “kacchan, look! this quirk is so cool, isn’t it?”

you felt your face warm at the praise, your poor heart racing. “it’s really nothing.”

kacchan eyed your expression, quirked a brow at izuku’s, then shrugged. “‘s pretty cool, yeah.”

“your quirk is like my mom’s! she can pull my toys towards her, but you can do it a bajillion more times!” deku squealed. “can i please be your friend? please? kacchan doesn’t bite, and i promise i’ll only ask three questions a day!”

your fate was sealed to both of them the moment you said yes. not that you were complaining.

“ah, y/n!” izuku all but scrambles to the door when you open it, his smile taking up most of his face. “you’re home!”

“i’m home,” you agree, grinning. izuku reaches for your bag, and you let him take it as you wriggle out of your shoes. “did i miss dinner?”

“yeah, it’s fucking cold now,” katsuki sneers as he appears from the kitchen. “go shower, i can smell you from here.” still, he does not complain when izuku tosses him your bag; instead, he places it gently on the couch.

“we watched your interview,” izuku says, gently pushing you towards the dining table despite katsuki’s chiding. “you did well! i told you they’d love you.”

“now,” katsuki says as soon as you sit down, “tell us what happened.”

“what…? you said you already watched it.”

“yeah, but, i like it better hearing it from you,” katsuki says, like it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “because it’s funnier,” he clarifies, glaring, “stop laughing, deku.”

ok guys!!!!! this little au is fun and all but HONESTLY im out of ideas and i do not have the brainpower to turn this into a series so this is the last one </3 GUYS I ACTUALLY HATE THIS i finished half of it it in one sitting but ill die if i delay it another day

#606:BNHA #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha drabbles #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #izuku midoria x reader

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vampyrsm · 2 years

Text

'you come here often?' (4.1k) izuku midoriya x female reader

warnings: roleplaying, semi-public sex (bathroom sex at a club), alcohol, praise, fingering (f!receiving), mirror sex, unprotected sex, clothed sex, size difference/kink (i can't help it, i like my men big), creampie.

➼ 'kinktober 2022 masterlist'

You didn't do this often.

What with being so busy with work, and everything else. You didn't ever really find the time spare to spend a night to yourself, just letting your hair down and slipping into one of your shorter dresses. It was definitely a rare occasion but you weren't going to let it slip from between your fingers. Tonight was about you, and you were going to be on the prowl for something... fun.

How long had it been since you took someone home with you after a night out? Far too long. And tonight that changed, as you let the throb of the bass in your chest guide each and every one of your movements, head free and empty of any thoughts that involved work. It was a busy night tonight at the club you picked, many bodies pressed tight together, all moving together in unison to whatever song that pumped through the speakers.

And when you reopened your eyes, strobe lights flickered to create the illusion as if time had slowed down but you couldn't take your eyes off of the man who was leaning back against the bar, elbows propping himself up whilst his eyes seemed to track your own movements. He was massive, features hidden by the strobing bright lights until a rogue green strobe bounced across his face and you swore his eyes were glowing the most beautiful verdant green, like electricity.

But when the next flicker of white strobes went off, he was gone. Your eyebrow quirked as you gave a quick glance around to see if you could spot the giant of a man but somehow he had just vanished. A shame really, you had thought maybe you found your target for the night. A man big enough to throw you around as if it were no effort on his behalf, as well as one who most definitely would have you yearning for more the morning after.

The next song came and went, and all the whilst you let the mysterious man slip to the back of your mind to be forgotten about as you sipped on the cocktail you had been nursing for the last hour or so. Many bodies slipped past you, hands lingering on your hips for a fraction of a second before they vanished only for the process to repeat until hands that were engulfing your waist had you finally opening your eyes to see who had grown brave enough to lay their hands on you.

A head ducked down over your shoulder, a firm body pressed hard against your back and effortlessly moving along with your own movements. Naturally, your head fell back against his shoulder, the muscles flexing beneath the movement and his hair tickled against your cheek the further he leaned in closer to your ear. "You come here often?"

You snort at the comment, it's very cliche, something he must have heard on a romcom or something but the alcohol swimming through your blood has you grinning like a lovesick fool, eyes no doubt glazed over with a needy type of lust. "Not my usual scene, no," you turn your head enough to speak directly into his ear over the loud music, and finally you get a glance of the green hair that brushed against your face when he nodded along with your words before he turned again to speak.

"That makes two of us," his voice is smooth, caressing your brain with the way he speaks with so much confidence and the warmth of his breath fanning against the sweat on your neck isn't helping you wade through the swamp that is your mind. "Though I suppose like me, you're not here for the music."

You feel the way his lips curl into a smile against your ear at the sound of your laughter, his hands continue to roam along your hips and down to the hem of the short dress you were wearing. He was bold, you had to give him that. "Oh yeah? How could you tell?" you challenge, purposely rolling your hips back against his own and you couldn't miss the way he groaned under his breath directly into your ear, puffing out a hot breath that had your eyes fluttering in desire.

You hadn't even got a good look at the man who was fiddling with the ends of your dress and grinding the chub in his jeans up against your ass. And yet, you wanted nothing more than for him to take you home, to show you a good time just to forget everything that happened in the week.

"Saw the way you were watching me from across the room," a jolt of excitement sparks up your spine, prompting you to finally spin around in his arms which he allows surprisingly easy. His shoulders roll backwards when he stands back up to his full height, he had nearly a foot on you but he wasn't quite as imposing as you thought he might be.

Despite the fine structure of his face, the way his eyes were definitely flickering with a wisp of something electric and how the muscles in his arms would be enough to crush you if he got a hold of you—despite all of that, you felt no fear, no worry that maybe he was more trouble than he was worth. His smile was kind, features softer as he gazed down at you and he was stunning. The band of freckles across his face was hard to miss whilst he let the lights dance over his face.

Now facing him, you could feel just how hard he was against your stomach and yet it didn't show on his face that he was embarrassed or shy about it either. You grin finally at his words, his eyes dart down to your lips and he can't help but smile along with you, you're certain that must be his panty-dropping smile, it definitely has you squeezing your thighs together.

"You were definitely watching me first," you counter, and he shrugs with a look that says 'so what?', the boyish energy he's giving you is intoxicating.

"Maybe, couldn't help it with the way you were giving me a show."

"Oh, I was giving you a show?" you snicker, letting his hands pull you in tighter whilst his head ducks down into your space. Your eyes flutter at the closeness of his face, something sparks as familiar in your gut when you get a good close look at him but you can't quite put your finger on it—

"Yeah," he breathes, you hadn't even realised your lips were so close that you felt the word pass by his lips directly onto your own. His eyes bounced between your own, searching for something and he must've seen it when your hands curled into the side of his shirt, tugging on it as if you could move the mountain of a man. His lips pressed against your own, the fervour exploding between the two of you. He tasted of something bitterly alcoholic, not as sweet as the cocktail you had been drinking.

He also smelled intoxicatingly good, strong and musky but not so much so that it would have you choking on the smell. It was undeniably man, something that drew you in and had you itching to reach down and grab what was pressing painfully into your stomach. The sound of the music faded into nothing but a muffled background noise whilst your arm hooked around his neck, pulling him further down to your height as his lips moved against your own in tandem.

Your stomach flipped and dipped in excitement. Shamelessly you chased after his lips once he broke off first, a knowing smirk on his face each time he dipped his chin down to avoid your lips. It was teasing, playful and it had you playing easily into his hands. "Wanna get out of here?", you hadn't expected him to try it so early but you still were nodding along easily, glassy eyes watching how he smiled again before leaning down, laying a gentle kiss on your lips that seemed out of place given the moment.

He slipped a hand down to your own, large calloused fingers locking with your own before he turned to walk towards the exit but halted the second he felt you still not moving behind him. He turned, a confused look on his face as he watched the way you nervously chewed on your lip. "Gotta go the bathroom first," you say sheepishly, alcohol courage seeming to drain the second you spoke the words. But the man just nodded, effortlessly parting the way for the both of you as he guided you towards the long hallway that lead to the bathrooms.

Once free from the pulsing of the music and no longer squashed between sweaty bodies, you're both able to breathe for the first time that night and the tall man with green hair doesn't let your hand go until he's stood outside of the women's bathroom. Finally, he lets you go, watching you make haste into the bathroom, you spare a glance over your shoulder before the door closes. The off-white light of the bathroom light really helped you put a full picture of the man who was going to make or break your night, the butterflies swarmed tenfold when you caught the white of his teeth when he grinned at the way you were watching him.

Now with a clear head away from the strong musk of the mysterious man, you glance yourself over in the mirror and let the cool water from the sink run over your wrists to just try and ease off the erratic drum of your heart in your chest. The music was just a distant thump, but it felt like your head was still swimming. That man outside was heartbreakingly stunning, you had no doubt in your mind he must be a hero or something of the sort with the physique he had. That had you grinning to yourself in the mirror like some lunatic, eyes glittering at the fact a pro hero would look at you like that. Lady luck was definitely on your night tonight it seemed.

Not wanting to wait any longer you pulled open the door to see him still standing there, one foot propped up against the opposite wall whilst his arms were crossed over his chest and his head snapped to attention the second the door opened. But you couldn't find it in yourself to move forward, watching the way his eyes skimmed you up and down now that he could see you properly, how they lingered on your exposed thighs and slowly trailed up until they settled on your breasts. He was shameless, and yet you couldn't stop the way it made you feel—hot and fuzzy.

"Ready?" he said once he was in front of you, cutting you off from the outside world with just the broadness of his shoulders. You blinked up at him, trying to convey some sort of message to him, trying to tell him how badly you wanted him to fuck you.

And once again, luck was on your side as he grinned more wolfish than you had seen on his face before he's crowding you back into the bathroom, eyes darting to the open stalls to make sure no one else was in here with the two of you before he clicks the lock shut on the bathroom.

Now that you're in here alone, you're certain he can hear the pounding of your heart in your chest. He was impossibly big and so imposing, everything about him screamed strong and powerful. But nothing screamed at you to run when he had you pinned against the bathroom counter, marble painfully digging into your back as he loomed over you. The soft gaze in his eye was long gone and replaced with something deeper and darker, an indescribable lust that was primal.

His chest brushed against your own with every deep breath he pulled in, both of his hands now pressed against the counter on either side of you effectively making sure you had no escape. "You're so beautiful," he smirks at the way your eyelashes flutter at his sweet words, how you struggle to keep yourself up with the jelly in your legs. "Can't wait to ruin you."

You jolt at the force he kisses you, your back bending some more over the counter behind you until he bends down to hook both of his hands around the back of your thighs to hoist you up and onto the cool marble. All the whilst he bites and nips at your lips, begging you to let him into your mouth and you do without much of a fight. Your tongue meets his halfway in a smooth roll before he's pushing in further, stroking his tongue along your own and up over the roof of your mouth, flicking against the back of your teeth before he repeats the actions over and over. He's devouring you whole and you may just let him.

It was over far too soon for your liking, saliva coating your lips whilst his were smothered in a messy smear of lipgloss. His chest heaved, tongue darting out to taste the sweet strawberry that lingered there. You finally let your hands wander him for the first time that evening, stroking your fingers down along the expensive material of his shirt before you reached the hem of it. His eyes watched you with intense interest, to see your next move, to see if you were brave enough.

He fell into you easily when you tilted your head back, inviting him in for another long kiss. Once he was fully engrossed in sucking your tongue into his mouth did you let your hand wander beneath his shirt, you were definitely correct in thinking the man had to be a hero of some type. His stomach tensed at the warmth of your hand splaying out on his abs, feeling the multitude of ridges and dips, the long and deep scars that you're sure held some of the most exciting stories. You hope maybe you'd get another chance of hearing about them, but for now, you wanted what was lurking beneath his trousers.

The kiss stuttered when he had to take a gasping breath, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you ditched the effort to caress his stomach and went straight for groping his dick through his jeans, delicate fingers squeezing him as much as you could. "Careful, might end up fucking you right here." he groans through gritted teeth at the way you squeeze him again at the filth that spilt from his mouth.

"And what if I want that, Mr. Hero?" you smirked at the way he finally opened his eyes, a half-hearted glare meeting your teasing gaze.

"Izuku," he responds with and you furrow your brows together in confusion. "Call me Izuku, please."

"Okay, Izuku," he shudders visibly at the way you purr his name, hand working the fly and button of his jeans before you slip into the warmth of his boxers. "Gonna give me what I want?"

His chest heaves in shallow breaths, eyes drifting away from your own to see the hand buried in his boxers. You were stroking him so delicately, the tips of your nails barely scratching along the smooth velvet of his skin and along the throbbing vein, he was at breaking point and you seemed to notice that when you finally took him in your hand. It was still a tight squeeze but you still somehow managed to stroke him despite the restriction, your wrist rolling effortlessly as if you had done this a thousand times before.

"You asked for it," he groans before stepping back enough to cause your hand to slip free from his boxers and before you could complain, he's manhandling you off of the counter and bending you over it. You're forced to awkwardly hang over the sink, a hand pressed to the large mirror that covered the entirety of the wall and the other gripping the edge. "Wanted to take my time with you." he murmurs more to himself before there's warmth on the back of your thighs from both of his hands.

He shamelessly grabs and squeezes at your flesh, letting his hips roll against the roundness of your ass before his fingers slip upwards until your dress is bunched around your waist. The deep guttural groan has you clenching around nothing once he gets a good look at you, you had worn your favourite pair of lace panties tonight. They had no lines and well, they were sexy, and you were fully expecting to get laid.

"Oh, wow," he breathes, fingers grabbing at your ass to spread you wide for him and you feel yourself heating up at the compromising position, how he was letting his thumb brush up and down over the material between your ass cheeks before slipping down to press against your slit. "You definitely were hoping to get lucky tonight, huh?"

"Mhm," you reply, biting on your bottom lip, truly you wanted to give him a response back about how he was clearly the one looking for some tonight too with the way he was eyefucking you across the room before he had even approached you but you couldn't even think properly at this point. His fingers slipped under the lace at the top of your ass before he helped guide it down until they were loose around your ankles, caught on the intricate straps of your heels.

The tips of his fingers glide smoothly against your slit, dipping against your entrance teasingly before brushing back down to tap twice against your clit, each time causing you to jump. Izuku chuckles softly behind you, a little breathless as he gets lost in a smooth way his fingers stroke down along your cunt and back up again until he's slowly but surely pushing in two fingers at once. He figures time is definitely not on his side, considering the bathroom situation.

You moan at the stretch of just two fingers alone, unwillingly clenching around the digits in hopes of just holding them there deep inside of you. The fullness was intoxicating, and all your brain could supply was the possibility of what his cock must feel like. His wrist rolls smoothly, trained fingers angling slightly downwards against your walls whilst his thumb presses against your clit. The reaction was immediate, as he had hoped, your hips bucking back into his hips and forcing his fingers to rub delicately over the spongy spot deep inside of you.

"Izuku," you moan when he crooks his fingers again, tilting his head to watch your facial expressions in the mirror when he repeatedly taps his fingers against the spot that has your stomach twitching and thighs tensing up. "P-Please, shit, just fuck me already."

You miss the grin on Izuku's face as he watches your eyes flutter closed when he speeds up the movement of his fingers inside of you, your moans growing higher in pitch until you were completely silent except for panting breaths, lips parted in a pretty 'o'. Then suddenly his fingers are gone, you're violently jerked away from the orgasm he had nearly ripped from you and you try to glare at him through the mirror to which he just shrugs.

"You did ask for it," and his eyebrows raise when you ready yourself to speak back, to snip at the man who was playing with your orgasm for enjoyment before he's thrusting his cock into you in one fluid motion. You gasp before it rolls into a long moan, your hand tightens the grip it has on the marble counter whilst the other helps with pushing you back against Izuku to try and somehow take all of him inside of you deeper.

Izuku keeps his hands on your waist, fingers clutching at the fabric of your dress whilst his chin is dipped to his chest watching intently at the way he disappears into your slick cunt. "Shit," he groans finally, huffing out a breath he hadn't seemed to notice he was holding once his hips are flush with your ass. His hands move downwards, thumbs hooking either side of your ass to pull you apart for him, to see the way you clench around him fruitlessly to pull him in further. You were perfection, "Such a perfect pussy."

His thrusts are fluid after that, a practised movement that has both of your minds going blank. Just filled with the devotion to fuck one another into oblivion, to help each other reach their own slice of heaven. You finally look up into the mirror, just to see Izuku was already looking directly at you through the mirror and his eyebrows twitch, gaze hardening the longer he holds eye contact with you. His thrusts grow harsher, the slapping sound almost violent and the wet squelch of your cunt gushing around his cock is disgusting, downright filthy. Yet neither of you can think of that, not with the tension building between the two of you.

Izuku dips down slightly, a large meaty hand grabbing one of your thighs to bring up your leg to prop it against the counter and you have to remove your hand from the mirror to cover your mouth to smother the scream that wanted to escape. The angle was made to hit against your g-spot, to have your vision darkening around the edges and your mind a fuzzy blanket that shrouded you in a hazy warmth. "Cum for me angel," the pet name rolls off his tongue far too easily, and neither of you are able to unpack what that could mean whilst he fucks into you, fingers now swirling against your puffy clit that brings upon your rapture.

You squeal into your hand, sucking in a deep breath through your nose and your eyes roll back. The orgasm is a violent one, hitting you like a wave would against rocks, it has your walls squeezing and twitching around his cock trying to milk him for all he's worth whilst legs tremble, hips bucking up to try and get away from the hand that wouldn't give up on playing with your clit. "Good girl, you did so well for me."

"Gonna fill this pussy now, yeah? Gonna let me fuck you full of my cum?" he's rambling now, babbling on about how you'd look so good with his cum leaking from your sloppy pussy, you can't help but clench around him, Izuku's voice tapering off into a low groan and his hips thrusting a little more aggressively causing the edge of the counter to press harshly into your thighs, the angle is still just as head spinning now that he's fucking into you with the purpose to make himself cum.

And he does finally cum, the whine from his throat doesn't match the large frame that nearly curls over you from the force of his orgasm. His cock twitches ruthlessly against your walls, and each rope of cum feels thick and hot, coating you from the inside until you can feel it being pushed forcibly from around his cock and down along your thigh.

The air is quiet for a moment, just the intense breathing from the both of you before Izuku is the first to break the silence with a delicate kiss on your shoulder, then your neck. "I didn't go too far did I, angel?" his voice was different from the way he had spoken to you all evening, no longer a stranger but rather your boyfriend of four years.

You smile at him through the mirror, his eyes that gooey type that tells you he's spent. "No baby, you did good," he lays another kiss to your shoulder before he's pushing off of you and leaving you empty whilst he goes and grabs the toilet paper to clean up the mess between your thighs.

"Though you did nearly break character," you smirk at the wide-eyed look he gives you.

"I did? I didn't even notice."

You hum, nodding a little whilst shimmying your panties back up and turning to look up at Izuku with a dopey smile. "Yeah, called me angel when you wanted me to cum," and he somehow manages to blush, intensifying the freckles dotting his face and you can't help but laugh. The man was a big softie deep down.

"C'mon, let's go before someone breaks down the door or something." you pat his chest gently, turning towards the door and he's hot on your tail with a kiss to your head when you stop to check if the coast was clear.

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acerathia · 11 months

Text

Summary:

While spending the summer at your grandparent's place, an accident leads to a fateful encounter with Izuku. Yet you reject this first meeting, seeking to craft a proper first impression.

Pairing:

Midoriya Izuku / Reader

Wordcount: 11.3k

Read it on AO3

Tags/CW:

Love at first sight, slightly idiots in love (if you squint), Aged-up characters, vague description of a panic attack, slight miscommunication (I hate it as much as you do), Reader is gn but there is 'girl' as a term of endearment,

Note:

This work is part of the 'Meet Fruit Collab' by willow's house! Go check the other works!!

The sun caresses your cheeks and makes you close your eyes, allowing the warmth to seep into your bones. There is only a slight breeze, cooling your skin with each whisper. The weather seemingly fits your current tranquility.

It’s summer. And similar to every summer you had experienced before, you’re visiting your grandparents at their small cottage in the south of the country. The warmth practically radiating from the edges of the village. You love it here, despite the long trip, carrying you over borders and through mountains. But in the end, it’s always worth it, the weather and the comfort of the people forming the valley of your dreams. No wonder you had planned on staying for the duration of the summer, nothing better than to spend your vacation with your family and their well-loved apple trees.

You had arrived a couple of days ago, the train finally coming to a halt after hours of driving through the darkness of the tunnel, emerging into another world, wildly different from the other side of the mountain range. And as much as you love riding the train for long distances, it had exhausted you quite a bit, you almost had no choice but to rest for a couple of days. These last days had consisted of you catching up with your grandparents, and of course, enjoying the apple pie of your dear grandpa.

That is until they had kicked you out of the door with some silly task. Well, getting kicked out is a strong word, rather they had sent you on an errand because according to your grandma, you had gotten ‘the zoomies’, whatever that means.

So there you are, in the middle of a meadow, trying to walk towards the apple trees of your family without stomping on the flowers. And as much as you hate to admit it, you aren’t successful with your current endeavor, and you hope to at least save the apples from their dooming demise. That’s why you had to pick them directly from the trees, these delicious, fresh apples should not, under any circumstance, fall onto the ground and rot away, turning into sad mush. You shall not allow them to suffer such fate!

But even if you are to pick every single apple from the trees, you wonder where your grandparents store all these apples, before you remember the morning market. The people around here open their stalls in the morning to sell their homemade products and to converse with each other, taking that chance to simply catch up with each other without any reason to do so. And of course, your grandparents go there, they have many friends in the village and how else are they supposed to get their gossip from? And soon you are going to be part of that gossip because while you had missed the market due to your inability to wake up early in the morning, they definitely are going to drag you along with them as soon as possible.

With a sigh, signifying your surrender to your upcoming fate, you arrive at the base of the first tree. You are only supposed to fill the basket you are carrying, so there is no need for you to visit more than one tree today. You set the basket between the roots of the tree to put your hands on your hips. With a scrutinizing gaze, you inspect the stem and its bark, judging how well you would be able to climb it. And it seems like a challenge for your climbing skills, but it definitely isn’t something you can’t handle.

Rolling your imaginary sleeves up to gather some strength, you begin feeling the bark with both your palms and fingertips, looking for grooves and furrows to hold onto. Once you discover some proper places to hold onto, you manage to get a good grasp around the trunk, hauling yourself with one push and jump. Your feet push the ground away before they step onto the bark. Holding your grasp for a moment, your hand grabs the next branch to finally pull your whole body upwards, your body sprawling across the branch. With a swing you manage to get your legs up, getting yourself into a sitting position on the thicker branch. And despite its thickness, you remain close to the trunk as a safety measure.

With your body secure and safe, you start grabbing the apples, picking the ones closest to you to let them fall to the ground. You try your best to soften the fall by stretching your body towards the ground, or by trying to get them into your basket in one shot. That way you clear the surrounding space, before you begin to move upwards, standing on the branch to reach higher. Methodically you move from branch to branch, reaching as far as you possibly could without endangering yourself.

Reaching higher and higher, you continue to let the apples drop, until you hear a small shout of surprise. You gasp silently and peer down to look for the source of that sound, staying hidden behind the leaves and branches.

Down below standing at the base of the tree is a boy your age, his hand rubbing against the top of his head with a slight wince. You bite your bottom lip to swallow a curse, lest he sees you between the branches of the tree. Because it seems like you were the cause of his pain, as you accidentally let an apple fall on top of his head. And you probably should get down and apologize, maybe gift him some apples to soothe the pain. But before you decide on your next move, he looks up and you freeze. You can’t do anything but stare at his beautiful face; and you think, you must have fallen and broken your neck because you have never seen such mesmerizing features before. His green eyes make you step into a deep, refreshing forest, full of secrets you can discover if you step closer; yet welcoming and beautiful, soothing your mind with ease. Strands of hair framed those gleaming eyes, soft; and you wondered how it would feel to drive your fingers through them while counting the small galaxy of freckles emphasizing his features. You wonder how many little stars he owns.

There is no way you can simply jump down and meet him like that, not after that accident with the apple. That would be a bad first impression and you have no idea how you currently look, the leaves probably sitting on top of your head. The peak of bad impressions. ‘Hey, I hit you with an apple, but you’re cute, so forget about it.’ You can’t just do that! For some reason you need that first impression to be good, no, perfect. So you clasp your free hand against your mouth and hold still, trying to make the least amount of noise possible. He should not catch you under any circumstance, especially after you refuse to go down after hitting him. That only would worsen his possible first impression of you.

‘Please leave, please leave,’ you try to persuade him with your telepathic skills. You hope you have these skills, or else he might not leave soon. But lucky you, your persuasion skills seem to work, as he picks an apple off the ground to roll it between his palms, scarred palms. And you wonder how that rough skin would feel against your own pair of hands before you notice him turning and finally leaving.

You almost cheer, thanking your merciful luck, hoping it doesn’t deplete with that simple graciousness. Still, you don’t risk anything and wait for some time, making sure nobody is truly left, before you jump down, starting to pick the apples off the ground in a hurry, collecting the fruits in your basket.

With a last glance in every possible direction, you make your way back to the cottage, arms and doubts heavy. And as much as you want to enjoy the beautiful sun on your skin, your gaze has locked itself onto the grassy ground, watching the blades dance with the silent brise. You just can’t help but think that you might have burst your only chance with that boy, just because of your cowardice. What if you never saw him again? Then what? Are you just going to lament over that non-existent loss, maybe cry every time you spot some green apples, because he reminds you of these green Pound Sweet apples? Probably. But right now all you want to do is to kick yourself back in time, maybe take another way of action. But no, your head had been empty and your thoughts didn’t carry any semblance of common sense. You never make the right decisions in the nick of time, and you always end up regretting it, like right now. You lost him, forever!

Maybe you are acting a tad dramatic, but you think you deserve a little drama, as a treat to distract yourself from your lost chance to meet the embodiment of the perfect person.

Your grandma immediately notices your little pout upon your entrance, and just doesn’t allow you to enter the cottage. She had taken the basket out of your hands before pulling you into her little vegetable garden in the back. Apparently, she needs help with getting rid of the weed. And even if you know she doesn’t need help and that she holds too much strength in her frame, you oblige to her pushing you into this task. You doubt you would be able to get rid of a single weed, and you spend the rest of the day in a brawl, fighting those scratching plants with all your might and still losing, too many times to count. And maybe that is the plan of your grandma, to distract you from whatever is bothering you and to tire you out like a little child throwing a tantrum. You don’t care though, that is her way of caring for you after all.

***

The next morning doesn’t start like you wanted it to. You are deep in your dreams and your pillows, hugging your blanket close to your face when a spray of water hits your face with its startling coldness. A groan escapes you and you try to swat at the source of your bother but without any success. The attacks continue without mercy, soaking even your pillow. Hesitantly you open your eyes, hoping to avoid getting sprayed into them, before seeing a familiar figure standing beside your bed.

“Wake up, you lazy thing, we’re going to the market!” your grandma proclaims, waving the spray bottle in front of your face as a threat.

You grunt some curse words under your breath, making an effort in sitting up. “Okay, okay… Man, a warning would be nice…”

The only response to your mumbled complaint is another spray into your face before she leaves you to change into some proper outerwear. And you are almost inclined to leave the house in your pajamas if only to embarrass her a bit. But if you are honest with yourself, you will end up regretting that choice more than her non-existent embarrassment will be worth it. You will wind up being the embarrassed one, she will be nonchalant about the whole thing, shrugging your audacity off like nothing. So you almost have no choice but to change into some proper summer wear, yearning for your hoodies, but you would rather not fry in this weather, as beautiful as it is.

Dragging your feet, sleep still hanging onto your ankles, you join your grandparents in the kitchen. They are preparing for the morning market, and they expect your help if the basket squeezed into your hands is any indication. It is filled to the brim with green apples, Beauty of Bath, the ones you had picked from the tree just yesterday. You sneak a hand into the basket to grab one for yourself, but your grandma seems to have a telepathy or a sense of premonition because she’s already slapping your hand away, tutting at your allegedly bad behavior.

“Aw, c’mon, I didn’t get to eat anything yet…”, you grumble, still eyeing the green, fresh apples hanging off the crook of your arm.

“Stop makin’ eyes at them apples girl, shoulda woken up earlier,” she reprimands you, and you feel like you're being punished for something. Is she mad about how much of a loser you are in weeding out the garden? Did you step on a tomato while brawling those stubborn plants? Is she getting sick of you being a failure in her favorite hobby?

And maybe you’re being dramatic again, making a big deal out of her response, when you’re well aware of her ways of communication.

Still, this knowledge doesn’t stop you from pouting slightly, reacting appropriately. But you can’t help but light up when your grandpa goes up to you and hands you a piece of the pie. With a broad smile and a thank you, you ravish that piece, enjoying the way the apples and cream melt on your tongue, leaving a sour and sweet taste behind. Licking the rest off your fingertips, you both giggle about that secret exchange, while your grandma has her back turned on you.

Despite her obliviousness, she must have noticed something going on, as she begins to push the both of you out of the door, arms heavy with product, apples, pies and tarts. With your packed load, you begin to walk down the path to the village. Luckily, the cottage is stationed on a hill, so you only have to walk down with all that stuff, rather than dying from the slope. And despite the village sitting at the base of the hill, the distance between the cottage and the center is quite short. There is no need for any of you to use the car at all, even if carrying everything slowly turns out to be exhausting.

By the time you finally arrive at the closed stall, you’re barely feeling your arms anymore, the basket cutting your blood circulation off. With a grateful sigh, you manage to put everything down safely, before shaking your arms to get them back to work, wincing at the pins and needles appearing in your veins. Once you think you can use them again, you start helping your grandparents with opening up the stall and sorting the products into their respective spaces, checking if everything has survived the travels.

Everything is at its proper place the moment people start wandering into the market, the noise level immediately rising. The growing crowd carries their conversation with itself, the words traveling from stall to stall with people catching up with each other. The bargaining accompanies the chattering, the people trying to get their grocery shopping as cheap as possible.

Even you can’t escape the talking. You’re acquainted with some of your grandparents’ friends, so you have no choice but to greet them, which ends in you trying to dodge every question coming your way. Their questions and calculating gazes dig quite deep and if you don’t know any better, they seem like they’re analyzing your body language for any possible reaction. But that’s not possible, right? They’re just retired folk, they surely aren’t putting that much effort into their gossip, right?

You even start busying yourself with stocking the stall up, making sure there is always enough stuff from everything on the table, just to escape the awkwardness of the digging elderly.

“Oh, these look delicious, what kind of apples are these?” a voice asks you while you’re straightening the rows of green apples.

Oh, this is a rather easy question, so you grin and look up to answer, only to meet green eyes, soft curls framing them with the slight breeze and a shining smile. Your brain short-circuits and you can’t help but be mesmerized by him, the name you had given him in your head slipping out: “Uh, Pound Sweet?”

Immediately your grandma's elbow digs itself deep between your ribs, the pain pulling you back into reality. “What are ya blabbing? Those are-”

“Beauty of Bath apples, I know… Excuse my mistake…” you apologize to the boy in front of you, bowing to avoid making eye contact with him and falling into that trance again.

You can see how he hurriedly waves his free hand around. “Uh! No-No need to bow, everything is fine”, he insists and lets his hand rub the back of his neck, still giving you that brilliant smile.

And even after you straighten up, you actively avoid making eye contact with him. You’re sure you won’t escape those beautiful eyes of his if you get caught in them again. Instead, you let your eyes roam over his galaxy of freckles dusting his soft-looking cheeks, which mold with his bright smile; over his swaying, green curls moving around his ears, brushing the edges of his eyes, getting stuck in his long lashes.

Even his face sends you into a stupor and you don’t notice your staring until your grandma has rammed into you once again. Embarrassed, you let your hands wander over the apples, rambling about this sort of apples and their acidic sweet taste, while picking the number of apples he desires, You try to put your whole focus on the packaging of the apples and the piece of pie you decide to sneak into his order, catching your wandering gaze before you can even begin to stare again. Still, how are you supposed to prepare for the scars on his hands or the accidental touch of his rough hands as you handed him his package. The slight brush of his fingers against yours as he received his order sends you into another turmoil of thoughts and you hastily pull your hand away.

“Thankyoubye,” you blurt hurriedly, feeling embarrassed at your reactions to every single thing about him. For some reason everything about him makes you run on a higher sensitivity level leading to you slightly overreacting, probably.

Still, you feel bad for letting him experience these reactions at such a close range, so you look up and give him a crooked smile, a shy one, mirroring your current feelings. You feel the need to hide under his gaze and you scratch your nose to hide your face a tiny bit.

In return, you receive a bright smile with a thank you. You physically feel your heart stop, before you start choking on your own spit from the shock, resulting in a coughing fit. A curse tumbles with a cough and you have to turn away, propping yourself on your knees.

Well, there goes your good first impression, well done, you had ruined it, and this time you can’t just hide or run away. You can’t do anything but cough your lungs out, your throat getting raw; and if the tears in your eyes are due to your disappointment and shame, and not because your body is trying to eject your esophagus, nobody but you has to know.

After hacking a couple more times, your body finally allows you to catch your breath, as you hold yourself steady with a hand on the edge of the table. Your swipe at the beads of tears in the corners of your eyes, faintly feeling a hand between your shoulder blades. At first, you think it’s your grandpa, but the size of the palm feels too big to be actually his. And while the realization slowly creeps into your mind, the touch sears itself onto your skin, every skin ridge etching itself into your bones.

You swallow, trying to avoid the repeat of earlier, before finally raising your gaze and seeing Pound Sweet right in front of you. His brows are furrowed in some kind of worry, and you wonder why he would worry about you in the first place. You, nothing more than a stranger, as much as you want to change that.

Your eyes meet his, green and flashing, holding all these secrets, filled with a whirlwind of emotion you cannot decipher. You don’t register his question until after he repeats himself.

“Is everything okay?” he asks with a professional tone, and how can someone ask such a question in a professional tone anyway? Is he some sort of EMT and is used to people choking on their own spit, embarrassing themselves in front of him?

With a blink of your eyes, you realize he’s waiting for any kind of response, so you nod slowly.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. ‘Twas weird…” you murmur, as if your nod needs some boost in its credibility, lowering your gaze to avoid looking at him as mortification slowly fills your veins, hot and teary, crawling and ripping at your insides.

Instead of replying he just put a cup filled with juice, the smell of berries emanating from its edges. You recognize the barely touched juice from another stall close by, a couple of people had been holding the same kind of cup in their hands, savoring the taste with each sip. And with a small thanks, you decide to do the same thing, letting the sip on your tongue distract you for even a little moment.

You can’t help but take a second sip, as the cool liquid soothes your throat. But after that, you hesitantly return the cup to its owner, regret already pooling in your stomach like a heavy stone. Why did you take a sip? Maybe he wanted you to reject his offer, to keep his juice to himself. He probably just feels pity for your tiny miserable figure.

“Uh, thank you for that… Do- Do you mind me paying you back in some way?”, you ask with your raw voice, rasping each syllable.

You feel your insides knot with rising nervousness. You don’t know what compelled you to be so upfront, especially after your hiding, and your embarrassment, but you do owe him for that drink and his attention to you. And maybe you’re hoping to get to know him a little bit more, and nobody is to judge you for that.

“You’re welcome! And uh, it’s totally fine…”, he waves to refuse your offer so easily, while still keeping his brilliant smile, and you don’t quite feel like you just got rejected.

He rejected you and you have no choice but to accept it. That’s what any sane person would do in your situation. But to your misery, you don’t have enough sanity to make such wise decisions (later you would put the blame on the lack of oxygen, or just because his beauty crashed your brain). So for whatever reason you only shake your head at his answer and reach for some crumpled piece of paper. Snatching a pen from under the table, you jot your phone number onto the cracks of paper. Folding the ink and handing it to him you simply said: “Here, my number. Uh, I’m here for the summer, so maybe? I don’t know, text me, if you want to, I guess?”

You bite the insides of your cheek to stop yourself from babbling any nonsense that is crawling up your throat and clogging your brain from thinking straight forward. This day has filled you with enough embarrassment to last you a decade, you probably won’t ever forget this day, the memories haunting you for the rest of your life whenever you want to go to sleep.

He seems surprised, holding your number delicately between his fingers, and maybe you’re imagining things, but to you, it looks like his neck is slightly redder than it used to be just a moment ago. His mouth opens and closes with no words actually leaving him before he finally pockets the paper with no arguments. He agrees on texting you, before straightening to leave the stall with a small wave.

You wave back, hesitance creeping into your actions. The whole thing slowly starts to register in your brain and you want to crawl under the table of the stall and let the darkness swallow you. What did you do? What just happened? You don’t even have his name, he doesn’t know yours. That’s crazy of you, he probably thinks you’re some kind of weirdo… How did you ruin a first meeting in multiple ways?

With a sigh you turn around, only to make eye contact with your grandma, a sly grin adorning her face. And this is how things could in fact get worse. She won’t ever let this up, pestering you about it for probably the rest of your life, no matter how this whole thing turns out. You really don’t want to hear her so-called ‘advice’ or whatever has been cooking up inside her brain. So you immediately turn right back to continue whatever you have been doing before he showed up. Filling the gaps between the products, serving whoever decides to take a peek at your stall, and most importantly, relentlessly ignoring any upcoming conversation about Pound Sweet, no matter how much your grandparents try. No matter how bad you feel for ignoring your grandpa, but regardless of how tame he might look, he is married to his wife. And they both are borderline vicious about this sort of stuff. The elderly still love to gossip, and you’d rather not give them any ammunition about yourself.

The rest of the morning market finished without any hiccups, just with you averting their trials at interrogation in any possible way. And once you’re packing up and on the way home, their questions stopped, and you start to see the end of the tu-

And you had started hoping way too soon, as they corner you once you finally arrive at home. Trapped in a tight spot in the kitchen you have no way to escape the imposing figure of your grandma, especially with your grandpa guarding the door in case you miraculously manage to run away.

“So, you an’ the Midoriya-boy?” she asks with a raised eyebrow, almost like she already knows the answer to that question and you don’t.

“Who?”

You’re aware of the implication. She assumes something is going on with Pound Sweet, but because you don’t know his name, you choose the easiest thing to do and to act ignorant. Name-dropping only works if you know their name after all.

She grunts with annoyance at your shenanigans, waving a hand like she’s trying to get rid of something bothering her. “Dun’ play tha’ game with me, girl. Ya for sure have some stupid apple name for’im. Now, what was happenin’?”

Ow, bullseye. How does she even know that? You bite the insides of your cheek and avoid eye contact with her, trying to come up with some way out, but apparently, you hadn’t responded fast enough.

Her face scrunches up at your little wince before her facial expressions change from her usual scowl to unbelief, shock, triumph. You don’t even have the chance to retort anything, she already has her own conclusion made up in her mind. Still, you feel the need to say something, but nothing comes out of your mouth, leaving you to look like a fish on dry land. All wide eyes and open mouth.

With mirth finally placed on her face, she pushes your chin up to help you close your mouth.

“Imma leave ya to it. Should tell ya to be responsible, but I dun’ care,”, she shrugs and finally releases you from her entrapment.

You almost stumble over your own feet as you hurry with your escape, her snickers following you into your bedroom.

With a groan you let yourself fall onto your bed, burying your shame in your pillows. She won’t ever let you live this down, and every time you go out, she will be teasing you about him, even if you would only be accompanying them. There is no way you will be meeting him in the near future, not after your pushiness earlier.

You’re wailing in your conundrum when your phone suddenly vibrates. You stop your dramatic antics to furrow your eyebrows. Who could be messaging you? You barely text with your friends, and you’re supposed to be on vacation, so your workplace can’t be bothering you.

You stretch your arm to reach your phone on the commode, barely getting a hold of it. Once your phone is secure in your hand and not about to slip from your fingertips, you open your messenger to look at the received message. Unknown number.

And the moment you open the message you almost fling your phone across the room. The message isn’t long, it only consists of a greeting with his name, but that’s already longer than you had anticipated. Which is nothing.

But now you’re standing in front of the next hurdle. How are you supposed to answer? He doesn’t know your name, but to start with that would be weird, wouldn’t it? Could you use the spelling of your name as an excuse to still tell him what you’re called, or should you leave it to the future?

You scrunch your nose and stare at your unmoving phone, expecting an answer to jump out of it and tell you what to do. After just glaring at it you pick your phone up again, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, dancing a little over the letters. Writing and deleting. Writing and deleting. Nothing sounds right, no matter what you say. So in the end you just send some basic text, at least you hope it is. After your pushiness earlier, you tell yourself to allow him to choose what to do, that is the main reason you gave him your number after all.

And this time your poor phone didn’t get thrown away, but rather imprisoned into your commode. That way you aren’t able to see or hear any notifications. At least that’s the plan, but you had forgotten how your nervousness makes you check your phone every five minutes, hoping for any kind of answer, and then of course getting disappointed by the radio silence. And you immediately respond to every text, too excited to hold back and wait for a while.

Still, this leads to you regularly texting with Izuku, as it turns out you both are on vacation in this little idle village. None of you really disclosed your work, but his seems to be putting some strain on him, especially after he expressed his relief about this time-out.

So you’re nothing but eager to allow him to experience this village to its fullest potential, leading to your meet-up today. You both are going to visit the summer festival taking place.

You’re already buzzing with excitement. Even if it isn’t a proper date (as much as you want to go on a date with him), it’s finally your chance to act like a normal human being in his presence. Comfortably texting doesn’t mean he would actually enjoy your company, considering how awkward the first time had been. This thought puts an undercurrent of nervousness beneath your excitement, but you’re confident that everything will go well. You’ve come so far, you won’t easily give this up, not now.

After rummaging through your closet you finally discover something fitting for the weather of late summer, while being a tiny bit appealing to the eye. You’re not expecting anything, really, but it can’t hurt to feel good in your own skin when meeting him. Nothing but a meet-up between friends. With a final look in the mirror to make sure everything is in its place, you grab your bag with your necessities and leave the cottage with a simple call-out to your grandparents.

The weather outside is beautiful, just warm enough to not bother anyone, with a brise cooling your skin with its soft touch. You can’t help yourself looking up to watch the clouds slowly passing by. They look so calm and cozy, and for a moment they made you feel at peace. So you keep walking with your face raised towards the sky to let your gaze roam over the speckles of white and blue, the warmth comfortably laying on your face.

Your phone vibrates, ripping you out of your current trance of enjoyment. With a sigh, you sift through your bag to grab your device to look at the new message you just got. The moment you open your messages, a picture of your figure with your nose high in the sky greets you. You furrow your eyebrows, wondering how the sender, Izuku, even got this picture in the first place. You start looking around until you make eye contact with him. A grin already sitting on his face, lighting something inside of you on fire before you reciprocate with a grin of your own. With a wave, you speed up until you could stop in front of him.

You both exchanged a simple greeting, before starting to wander between the stalls and activities. There is quite a collection of stuff to do, ranging from a tombola, to shooting games, and different types of competition. A lot of things seem popular among the locals and the tourists, but nothing really spoke to you, so you aren’t sure what to do. That is until you spot a particular game you’ve always wanted to play: Apple bobbing.

Without thinking you just nudge Izuku to point towards the stall with the tubs propped in front of it. “Hey, that looks fun? Should we try it?” you ask, even if you’d like to just tug him along to play it with you.

Luckily he easily complies with your hidden demand, following you to the desk to pay for two people, before kneeling in front of a basin. His gaze already zeroed on the floating apples. You want to join him by getting onto the ground, but for some reason, he looks up to you, and your brain stops working for a second. He just looks so ethereal in the afternoon sun. His eyes focused on you, shining with the rays of the sun and his hair slightly tousled with the fresh breeze. His hands are simply relaxing on his thighs. He just contemplates you before cocking his head, seemingly noticing your hesitance.

And you almost choke on your own spit, again. But you manage to get your bearings before that happens, shaking your head to get back to your senses.

Carefully you take your place in front of the metal tub. You keep your arms behind your back to avoid using them in any way or form. Widening your stance a bit to fix your balance, before you shoot a look at Izuku, and you both exchange a giddy grin.

The person responsible for this game starts counting down until they give you the start sign. You immediately plunge your face into the filled tub, trying to grasp an apple with your teeth. You have been targeting a specific fruit, but it always manages to escape you just before you could take a proper hold onto it. And you probably had swallowed more water than it would have been healthy. You begin to grow frustrated at your evasive opponent, but before you could just throw the towel, you finally grasp the flesh of the apple between your teeth. Making sure you have a proper bite you finally straighten up. A grin hides behind the fruit and with your emergence, you feel the water coating your skin, cooling with the oncoming breeze, drying with no trace under the sun.

With your prize, you turn to see how the game had been for Izuku and you catch him already looking your way. His hair framing his face a shade darker and dripping. His head resting on his palm, arm propped up on the edge of the basin and a shining red apple in his other hand. He grins at you and you remember the apple still stuck in your mouth. In your haste to get rid of it, you almost let it drop onto the ground, but you catch it before anything happens.

“Uh, I guess you won?” you say with a crooked smile, shifting your weight from one knee to the other, and wondering how long he had been watching you struggle with that single apple.

At least you hadn’t let anything slip, like him being pretty, or how badly you want to brush the strands away from his face.

“Mhm! That was fun,” he smiles broadly, running his fingers through his wet hair, slightly slicking it back.

You blink a couple of times, stunned. Then with a breath, you stand up, taking a bite out of your hard-won apple. The slight acidity runs over your tongue, distracting you from the mesmerizing sight just beside you. You doubt it’s healthy for you to even look at him for such extended time, so you let your gaze sweep over the open field, looking for the next possible activity.

There isn’t anything really catching your interest, but you do discover a stall selling candied apples. And despite the one already sitting in your hand, you have a craving for one of these. Candied apples use a different type of apples after all.

“Oh! Do you wanna get some candied apples?” you ask Izuku, who has gotten up and has been letting his gaze wander over the place.

“Hm, didn’t we just get some apples?” he wonders and puts his hand to his face in a contemplating gesture.

“That’s true, but these are Red Delicious Apples, which often lack proper taste, and candied apples use these Gala Apples. They have a much sweeter flavor!” you try to explain to him without going on a tangent about the different sorts of apples, again.

He giggles at your so-called restraint, already aware of the struggle. “I don’t mind trying them.”

A grin spreads over your face with satisfaction and you march to that specific stall to buy two candied apples. They immediately hand you two sticks, from which one you pass along to Izuku. Turning to your own apple, you take a crunching bite out of it and savor the sweetness melting over your tongue. A content sigh escapes you.

Suddenly a hand materializes in front of you, gingerly wiping the corner of your mouth. Your wide eyes you follow the source of that hand, only to make eye contact with a stuttering Izuku. His face seems to get redder by the second, his hands already frantically waving in front of him.

“Oh, uh, sorry… you just, uh, there was some candy on your face…” he mutters, his free hand already placed on his reddening neck, avoiding your gaze with slightly hunched shoulders.

You’re glad you don’t have a full mouth because it would have been a waste to spit it out.

You waved a hand, trying to finish this topic before it could escalate in any way; your heart already lives in your throat. “No! Uh, I mean, thank you, I’d rather not walk with candy sticking all over me…”

This stopped the conversation, but now you both are silent, rocking on your feet, or shifting your weight. Doing your best to avoid making any sort of eye contact, as you don’t know what to say, you spot something you hadn’t expected at all. A Ferris wheel. You immediately whip around and point at it, already wordlessly pleading with Izuku to get on it.

For some reason, he looks like he already had expected it, and easily agrees; glad to get rid of that earlier tension.

That’s how you both end up last in the current queue, awkwardness already warded off by the quick walk from the stall, from which you almost dragged him behind you. So time goes by faster, you both start talking, picking up topics almost like you have been acquainted for some time (even if you technically have been knowing each other for some time, it’s still different to talk face to face). The conversation flows easily, both of you getting properly engaged in whatever forms the main point of your talking. You’re only focused on him, and that’s how you’re able to notice so many of his tiny quirks. The way he just dives into his explanations and analysis, getting excited about his favorite topics and research. His scarred, calloused hands move in sync with his talking, almost like they’re supporting him in his current endeavor. His stream of thoughts doesn’t mean he’s ignoring your own, but rather the opposite; he’s listening and considering them, leading to an in-depth conversation. You never had the possibility to dive that deep into certain topics, and you appreciate his seemingly vast knowledge in your own interests.

While enjoying this talk, the guilt begins to resurface, blubbering and hot, steaming its way up your throat. The accident wafts in your head, penetrating your nose like the smell of bad eggs. You couldn’t ignore the pressure, the urge to confess everything to him, as if you have committed a grave sin. And maybe you would, if you allow the both of you to explore this any further, without being in the open about anything. You should tell him before it’s too late and you lose yourself completely.

So you take a breath, trying to get rid of the steam clogging your lungs. “Uhm, I’m sorry for interrupting you. But, uh, I need to tell you something… I’ve met you before? I mean before that day at the market… Even, uh, even if it wasn't really… meeting, more like… How do I say that… Didn’t an apple fall onto your head, or something?” you stutter, realizing you don’t have a proper plan for this.

This is going to suck.

He slowly nods, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows and his bottom lip slightly juts out. You err for a moment, getting distracted, but you shake your head to get yourself out of that daze and to continue talking.

“Yes! Uh, the apple was me. No, I mean, uh, I let the apple fall and didn’t see you. Sorry… And… and I didn’t tell you earlier because I- uh, I wanted you to like me? I mean, I wanted a good first impression, I guess?”

You pull your shoulders up and avoid looking at his face, waiting for the inevitable. He’s going to get mad, just walk away. At least the outfall can happen before you completely are gone for him.

You wait for any kind of reaction from him, but all you can hear is his phone ringing. He just sighs before turning around to accept the call. And the moment he starts talking, you realize he’s speaking a language you aren’t understanding at all, and you wish you had learned more languages.

He put the phone away with a furrow between his eyebrows, driving his hand through his hair, letting strands stand slightly and frizzing his curls.

“I’m sorry, but, uh, there has been an emergency, and… and I have to go…” he simply explains with a smile. But this smile doesn’t shine like his usual ones, regret almost seeping through the gaps of his teeth; and you wonder if it’s your fault.

“O-Oh! That’s fine, yeah. Maybe, uh, maybe we could finish another time?” You have to ask, this isn’t the last time you’re seeing him, is it? Maybe… Maybe you still can see each other, right?

Wrong. His mouth pulls down and the furrow seems to deepen. “I- I’m sorry. I have to return to my home, to my country…”

That makes sense. It’s an emergency, he has no other choice. And you understand, you really do. That doesn’t make it hurt less though. He could at least respond to whatever you had said earlier, but he seems to be in a rush, giving you a simple goodbye before walking away, leaving you at the other end of the queue. And for some reason, you feel like he’s running away, like everything is your fault.

You end up getting onto the Ferris wheel. All alone. And despite the sun warming the wagon, it feels cold, empty, soaking. Getting off you only carry a swollen waterline and a burning nose, only to immediately go home without even looking at the rest of the festival.

It hurts more than you thought it would; it feels like rejection. Even if nothing has been going on in the first place. And you have no choice but to bury these feelings deep in the waters of your insides, drowning them in the cold soaking after the steam had left, and to go on with your life. Spending time with your grandparents, surrounded by apples, despite never picking them yourself anymore.

And before you know it (that’s a lie, you’re so well aware how much time passed), summer is over and you’re already boarding the train to return to the city, to your tiny, homey space and your distracting work.

And work is distracting but also exciting. The company you’re working for is planning a collaboration with another one in Japan, and as it’s your job, you will be the one to lead the negotiations. After preparing with enough language and culture classes to get around, a few weeks after returning, you have to leave again, boarding a plane and making yourself comfortable for the upcoming hours. But you don’t mind the lost time, rather enjoying the flight and the food.

Doesn’t stop you from feeling groggy when you finally arrive in Japan, the sleep you managed to get doesn’t satiate your body. The haze lays heavy on your mind, making navigating through the busy streets more difficult than it’s supposed to be. And despite your language courses, you struggle to read the street signs, regretting not learning the language earlier. The language barrier hadn’t budged even with your basis of talk. You hope to strengthen your skills with your stay.

But that’s for future you, because the moment you finally step into the apartment you just want to collapse on the bed and sleep for an unreasonable amount of time. As much as you desire sleep, you have to check for any bugs. This complex is supposedly one of the most secure places in Musutafu, specifically made for important people such as politicians and these heroes.

And you don’t belong in any of these categories of important people, but your company had taken care of the lodging, and you just assume it’s simply because of the documents and knowledge you carry. They can’t afford to lose them on such short notice, but that also means you’re accustomed to some heavy stuff, like the search for espionage in your living places. That doesn’t make you a hero though.

And you can’t help but wonder why these exist. You’re aware how several countries have laws to allow them, training children and turn them into their heroes (which in your opinion is already an iffy subject). But you’re not a lawyer either, so you don’t think it’s your position to complain about it. As long as they keep everyone safe, they can keep their jumpsuits for all you care.

After looking under everything and into every lamp, checking the mirror for anything, you finally get ready to go to bed. You have a couple of days to properly adjust to the time, fixing your current jet lag as soon as possible. But you also plan on walking around the neighborhood, at least getting to know where all the important shops lie.

With that in mind, you fall asleep. And lucky you, you don’t immediately forget about your plans, even though you usually forget things easily. That leads to you leaving the apartment to look for the closest bakery to get yourself a treat for breakfast.

You walk around with leisure and lightness in your step, gazing around and memorizing every little detail you could possibly ever need later on. That is until you finally stumble across a bakery, which you enter with a wide grin. The smell immediately welcomes you with a hug, leading you deeper inside. With a little giddiness, you step close to the counter to properly look at the different loaves of bread and pastries. It takes you some time to decipher the names of the pieces to order in your broken, basic Japanese. Despite your difficulty communicating the clerk still understands you and even helps you in bits and pieces, especially with your pronunciation of certain vowels, and you thank them for it.

They’re in the middle of handing you your package full of tasty food when the glass front shatters with a dazing sound. A surprised scream escapes you before the cashier can pull you behind the desk with them.

Ducking into a corner, panic begins to fill your senses, the smell of spoiling and rotting filling your nose, ants crawling all over your skin, ears rumbling with fallen rocks. You don’t understand what’s going on, but the person in front of you seems accustomed to such situations for some reason and begins helping you to calm down, your hand pressed between hers.

You both stay kneeling like that until a voice calls into the store. And it seems like it’s not the one responsible for this, as the person immediately stands up to join the green-clad person, who seems to be a hero, according to his jumpsuit, and the familiarity and trust of the clerk with him. By the time you join them, they’re in the middle of a conversation, but you can’t keep up with the fast pace, barely understanding any sentences as a whole. Despite this barrier, you manage to bow and to give him your thanks.

But you don’t leave immediately after, rather you begin helping the cashier with the glass and whatever had been thrown around when the whole place exploded. That hero, ‘Deku’ as the clerk called him earlier, tries to help with the work, handling some of the stuff a tiny bit clumsier than you have expected of a so-called hero. And he doesn’t seem to only be a hero, but a rather popular one, as the clerk had recognized him despite his face being covered with a mouth guard and some sort of hood.

And for some reason, you have a weird feeling about him, not a bad one. He feels familiar for some reason, but you’ve never been to Japan before and you’ve never taken an interest in these heroes, so why do you keep looking at him, your gaze just drawn to his moving silhouette. You just shake your head, trying to focus on the work ahead of you (and you think it’s maybe the green of his suit, the one so similar to the warmth of last summer; and maybe it’s the little mannerisms, the moving hands and the palm in neck).

He doesn’t stay for long though, being called by the other heroes to help with another part of the street, which seems to have gotten the worst part of the fight.

After helping with the best of your abilities, you grab your once-forgotten package, not minding how the pastries inside probably don’t look as nice as they used to, but you don’t mind. Who are you to expect them to make you new ones to substitute for them. It isn’t the fault of this place, but rather of those ‘villains’. You’re not going to make a big deal out of it, because it simply isn’t.

You leave the bakery and register how bad the situation has gotten. The rest of the street was torn apart, the mud shining through the chunks of heavy concrete, The other buildings barely stand on their own, their insides already crawling towards the sun, and you have to look back to realize how lucky you have been. If you didn’t enter this almost unscathed place, you might as well be dead. You would be nothing but a colored speck in the cracks of the cement.

The whole concept of heroes and villains is still bizarre to you, but you start to understand the necessity of these people in their silly jumpsuits (even if it still kind of looks like adults playing like children, only with much higher damage potential). And you’re glad these heroes exist, they did save your life today and they deserve the respect.

That doesn’t mean you don’t want to avoid such situations at all cost. So you just make your way back, this time without getting distracted, which is partly due to that incident, but also because you’re getting famished and these pastries are waiting for you, their smell already clinging to you.

And despite your attempts of avoiding villains and the fights they seem to carry with them, it appears that these kinds of situations are a normal occurrence, simply unavoidable, unless you barricade yourself somewhere, and even then there’s a chance of getting in the middle of any attack.

You curse your company and their horrible choices, after being in another attack once again. But you’re in luck, as that one hero, ‘Deku’, has helped with the situation; and diffused it with the help of another, more brash one. The explosive hero had gotten angry with you, for some reason, but you hadn’t understood him well, but his attitude made you want to punch him. And you would have if you were on vacation. You would have at least left a proper bruise before they led you away, but you can’t tarnish the company’s image solely because he’s annoying.

On the brighter side, you interacted a bit more with the green hero, just a few pleasantries, but those made you decide to finally dive into the whole hero business and learn more about them (even if just to discover if all heroes fumble around, are a bit clumsy, or just have a mean streak).

So after finally getting home after that particular fight, you start researching the whole topic of heroes. You slowly learn everything about this hero-culture, and you realize how much it resembles the celebrity culture in the early 21st century in the US. Polls, merch, websites and awards. You even stumble across fanfiction of these celebrities (and you have to admit to reading and enjoying them quite a bit).

And then you come across the current number one hero, Deku; having browsed through numerous footage, interviews and gala pictures. With a face to put behind the mask, you finally realize why you had been drawn to him. But you can’t help but wonder why he didn’t tell you anything about it. On the other hand, he did tell you about how stressful his work is, and with this new information, it all makes much more sense.

For some reason, you don’t want to wait for him to tell you, so you just download a picture of him in his hero costume, and send it to him, accompanied with several question marks. You cringe a little at this action because you both hadn’t talked much lately, both of you busy, but also the whole confession and then runaway thing has been heavy on your mind. That’s why you have been hesitant to text him first.

To your surprise, he immediately responds. A simple sentence.

“Can we talk?”

And usually, this phrase would inject the anxiety straight into your bloodstream, but this time you had initiated the conversation, so you kind of are expecting the topic. So you agree to meet him at a local park the very next day.

Despite the meeting park being local, you struggle quite a bit to find it, almost just going in circles, before you manage to discover the little bridge you both had agreed on meeting on.

You lean against the railing to look into the softly streaming water, watching the colored fish idly swim with the movements, and you regret not getting them any proper food. Still, you enjoy just watching the calming water, slightly leaning forward to get a better view of the underwater world.

“Be careful!” a voice behind you chimes and a hand lands on your shoulder to carefully pull you away. “You could easily slip and fall.”

You glance to the side and recognize Izuku, so you fully turn around to face him, this time leaning your back against the railing.

“Oh, thank you, I didn’t know that…”

After your response you both look at each other, silence stretching between you, one waiting for the other to say something. And because you can’t stand this thickness between you, you clear your throat, trying to prepare to say something.

“Uhm, listen, I understand why you didn’t tell me. The whole ‘my work is dangerous or needs a big amount of secrecy’ isn’t a new concept to me. I just wonder… Uhm, well, I just wonder if you’re hesitant to tell me because of your work ethic, or, uhm, the whole apple accident, and me practically lying to you?” Well done, for some reason you just start talking about that past, not being able to just forget about it. Your peace of mind kind of relies on his answer right now. And you didn’t lie, you’re not mad at him for not telling you, just confused, because he did encounter you twice.

His hands already wave these thoughts away. “No! Well, the thing is just, I was on leave when we met, and uh, I didn’t want you to get hurt because you’re seen with me. And… and I wasn’t sure how your perception of me would change. I liked just being a normal person around you… It definitely wasn’t because of that apple… Uhm, it’s because I already knew when you told me. The leaves didn’t hide you very well, and I kind of got curious about you…”

You don’t say anything and just gape at him, unbelief evident in your speechlessness. It only takes a moment for the embarrassment to truly sink its teeth as you realize how both your alleged first meetings have been a full-on defeat.

With a silent groan, you bury your face in your hands, the realization being uncomfortable and yet gratifying.

“Honestly? This doesn’t make it better…” you grumble but slightly perk up when you hear his soft giggle ring, and you can’t help yourself but peak at his bright, smiling face.

After that you both spend the rest of the time until his patrol simply talking; you answering his inquiry why you’re in Japan with a simple ‘work’ and a grin, as you both cannot disclose details of your occupations.

Once he has to leave for work, he promises to meet you again, or at least to call you; to simply do his best to meet you in the middle this time. And you take his word to heart, but also promising to work with him, meet him in the middle.

This leads to him calling you daily, until you memorize his patrol schedule to call him at the right time to hold a small conversation, avoiding all topics about work and instead indulging in the many interests you both share. And if he doesn’t call, he still sends you a quick text in his break, to just simply let you know that he’s safe and thinking of you. And despite your meetings never happening due to clashing schedules, you’re content with the moments you still get with him, staying on the phone for hours until one of you falls asleep (or has to leave), playing mini-games, or simply sending pictures of cats and whatever has caught your eye.

To your regrets, you never manage to see him face-to-face again before the negotiations have been successful and your work in Japan is officially over. You have to return to your country, as much as you learned to love this country, and as much as you desire to stay. Your work is expecting you to just come back, it’s the only constant in your life in the city. If you decide to throw it all away, who would you be? What were you supposed to do with yourself, without backup, without something else to hold onto?

So you book your return flight, giving yourself a couple of days to pack up and to properly say goodbye to this town. Of course, you told Izuku, and he wants to see you before you go, but his work is using up all his time, he barely has any to even send you a goodnight text. You understand the pressure he’s under, and there’s no way you want to put more weight onto his shoulders.

After spending your last days just enjoying the place, you take a cab to the airport, and for the first time in your stay, you almost wish for a villain attack, if only to see him briefly. But nothing happened. The whole way has been peaceful and nothing happened, not when it finally would have been convenient for you.

With a last look at the skyline of the city, you enter the airport. Inside you start looking for the check-in but stop in your tracks when you hear someone calling your name. Did you mishear, and it’s just another person with a similar name? Despite this possibility, you look around until you hear the same shout once again.

And then you spot it, a green head of hair above everyone else.

Izuku seems to have noticed you at the same time, making eye contact with you before breaking into a big smile, at least his eyes do, as the rest of his face is covered by a medical mask. He begins hurrying towards you, avoiding any collision with the people around you to the best of his abilities.

After a short moment, he finally stops in front of you, hand already scratching the back of his neck. “I’m glad I still caught you! Uhm, here.”

A colorful speck appears in front of you, a small bouquet of flowers, and you gasp slightly, eyes widening at the sight of them.

“Izuku, what, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy, but your work…” you ask, voice slightly wavering with confusion, but also accepting the handful of flowers with a giddiness.

The tips of his ears turn red, indicating his flushed face. “Uh, I wanted to ask you out… on, uh, a date, but you know. We barely saw each other and.. and I thought I still had some time. But then you told me, you were leaving and I had to do something! I mean, I’m not asking you to stay, I would love for you to stay, but uh, I know you can’t, but maybe you could visit sometimes? Or- or I could visit? Maybe? I honestly didn’t think this through…” he rambles, trying to explain his thought process with a strained voice and a hand in front of his mouth, muffling his mumbles.

You’re at a loss for words (which seems to be a recurring theme with Izuku), and your heart feels like it’s sitting in your neck, daring you to do something. And you do, once you process his words, a smile spreads over your face, before you carefully take his scarred hand into yours, letting your thumb softly caress his callouses.

“Izuku, I would love to go out with you,” you answer in a light voice, in a voice full of the warmth of last summer and the flow of the water; simply watching as his forest green eyes accept your offerings, lighting up, tearing up.

His fingers press against yours, caressing your knuckles and squeezing his palm against yours.

And you wish this moment would never end. But you have a flight to catch, and he’s supposed to be at work. Yet this isn’t a goodbye, even if you’re leaving. Reluctant to let go, he presses his forehead against yours in a silent goodbye, none of you wanting to say the words outright, trying to let any kind of illusion live longer.

But eventually, you have to break those connections to him, the loss making your skin yearn and long for the warmth of him. With small steps, you force yourself to retreat, to only glance at him occasionally until his figure has been concealed by the sheer amount of people. And your insides hurt, trying to convince you to go back, to just stay here with him, but you continue to step further, to catch your flight, to persist through these endless hours up in the sky, and to arrive in your town. In your home. But for some reason, you feel estranged, almost like you’ve never truly belonged to this place. And this thought only pushes you further, your plan slowly clicking into place like Tetris. And you're going to clear it, to win.

You punch through whatever obstacle lies ahead of you: the jetlag, the needed signatures for the forms, the time it took you to finish different courses and meetings. Whatever must be done, you will do it.

Throughout the whole ordeal, Izuku and you stay in contact as much as possible, even with the time difference, and your difficult schedules; enjoying the late-night calls while he prepares to go on patrol. And not once had you slipped, allowing him to be unaware of your workings behind the scenes.

You didn’t want to tell him until you finally arrived in Japan until all your work finally paid off. You have managed to convince your workplace to permanently relocate you to Musutafu with the agreement to travel to whatever place whenever they need you. Considering you often have to comply with these rules anyway, this was a striking deal in your favor.

So there you are. Stepping into the airport, immediately trying to pull your phone out to call Izuku and to surprise him. But before you even have the chance to dial his number, you once again spot a mop of green hair. You doubt your senses, doubt if it’s even him in the first place until the tell-tale green continues to move closer to you.

And then he steps out of the crowd, hair slightly tousled, medical mask pulled down to reveal a bright, slightly mischievous grin, and his focussed gaze, looking you up and down, filled with wonder and curiosity.

For a moment you both just stand there, looking at each other, trying to assess if this situation is real before you just let go of your baggage to jump at him, to wrap his huge frame with your own arms if only to feel his very real warmth and heartbeat. Too immersed in the moment and spurred by his own arms slightly crushing you into him, you put your hands on his face, appreciating every little detail, his freckles, his forest green eyes only looking at you, and his plush lips. And you wonder how they would feel on your own before they just meet yours. You don’t know if you’re the one who moved, or if he seemingly reacted to your thoughts, but it doesn’t matter. Only he matters, only the way his lips caress yours matters.

After barely a breath you both split, only leaving the least amount of space between you, forehead on forehead, nose touching nose, breath mingling like dancers. And your grins mirroring.

“So, whatcha say? Wanna let me take you out?” you ask with a slight tease, anticipation filling the little room between you.

He accepts. His smile warming your ribcage, and the smell of apple pies seems to linger between you.

And you wonder if the next time you climb on a tree, someone would be waiting on the ground and catching the sweet fruits for you.

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