Summary; All of this was started by a deal. [Name] didn’t expect to fall in love with one of the top students from the hero course, Midoriya Izuku. What happens when things go out of control?
Proceed with Caution: This story will contain angst.
Word Count:2,615
The sun shining above birds chirped happily beside their own families. Small children are holding their mother’s hand as they walk across the busy street.
The tall purple walls that surround the grounds of U.A High School, which protects their students and staff from any uninvited citizens to enter into their property. The security of the school has improved ever since the incident with the League of Villains.
Students wearing their respected uniforms. They are chatting away with their friend groups from their dorms.
Meanwhile, you are holding hands with your green-haired boyfriend, whose cheeks were slightly flushed in red since he’s still not used to this kind of affection despite the fact you’ve been dating for almost twelve months.
Your first anniversary is coming up.
You cannot believe it has been so long. You can’t help but ponder on the reason why you even started to date him in the first place.
synopsis:izuku goes abroad on a hero mission and it breaks his heart to leave y/n, but he comes to realizations about the two of them while he’s away.
content: pro hero au, fluff, relationship discussions, i throw in some marriage talk
word count:1.5k
a/n:this song makes me feel warm and fuzzy but sad at the same time and after listening to it on repeat for awhile it reminded me of izuku :,)
It was three in the morning. He was on another plane going on another mission abroad, and all Izuku could think about was the way Y/N had cried at the airport the first time he’d left for an overseas mission a year ago.
“I’m so excited for you!” she had screamed when she heard the news, immediately jumping into his arms and rambling about all of the food he’d get to try and the amazing people he’d meet. And his nerves had vanished right then and there, and they both spent the night making a list of things he’d take with him, neither of them pausing to think what six months away meant for their relationship.
They’d been dating for two years, having officially gotten together after graduating high school. Y/N was currently in college studying to be a teacher, and was doing her training at UA. She was almost positive she’d go back to UA to teach, and was thrilled at the prospect of being a mentor to so many young aspiring heroes while doing some hero work at the same time. She was happy, and seeing her happy made Izuku happy.
Since he was in the limelight a lot, the relationship was hard on Y/N, no matter how hard she tried to insist it wasn’t. Izuku was an expert at avoiding the media, but it was still irritating when Y/N was referred to as nothing more than his girlfriend, when she was a part time hero and student, something he thought was far more impressive than what he was doing. The first chance he got he bought them a house near UA and Y/N’s university with a great security system to scare away any paparazzi who would be smart enough to find out where they lived (something no one had done so far).
His trip was something they’d both known would happen eventually, but they’d never explicitly discussed it. Izuku was scared to bring it up, terrified Y/N would mistake his feelings of unease for wanting to end their relationship, which was the last thing he wanted. Whenever he brought it up she’d wave it away, assuring him everything was going to be fine, and that he must remember to bring back a souvenirer, both for her and for the apartment. And, in a team effort with his mom, she’d made him a new scarf to take with him, because it was cold in New York, especially in the wintertime. They didn’t talk about the risks of the mission—they’d stopped discussing dangers on the job after a few months of dating, because it was so normal in both of their jobs they both overlooked it more often than not.
Y/N drove him to the airport, ignoring his advice for her to stay home and rest before her class the next day. Izuku was recognized by the staff, and paired with Y/N’s determined stare, it was enough for her to be allowed to wait with him at his gate until his flight left.
She sat with him for almost an hour, holding his hand the entire time and talking about her classes and the kids she was mentoring, knowing any other topic would make them both remember why they were here.
He was the last one to board the flight. He couldn’t bring himself to get up, to let go of Y/N’s hand. They’d never been apart longer than three weeks for over six years now, and letting go of her hand was the last thing he wanted to do at that moment.
“C’mon,” she’d said, standing up and pulling him along with him. Izuku clutched his boarding pass much harder than necessary, something Y/N had to have noticed. But her gaze was straight ahead, focused on the flight attendant waiting to check his pass and allow him onto the plane.
She turned to hug him, squeezing him tightly and pressing kisses along the side of his face. “I love you so much, have a safe flight, and call me as soon as you land.”
And then she was letting go of him and pushing him forward gently, and Izuku handed over his boarding pass and turned to look back at her.
She was standing right where he’d left her, wrapped up in his favorite All Might scarf. Her cheeks were glistening with tears, and with a startled realization that his vision was blurring, he realized he was crying, too. She waved at him until he couldn’t see her anymore, and it took all of Izuku’s willpower not to jump out of the plane and rush back into her arms. He felt like his heart was breaking, knowing she was crying because of him, knowing her heart would ache just as his was aching now because of him.
He called her the second he landed, and didn’t hang up until she fell asleep and he did too, in a bed 6,000 miles away from the only person he wanted to be with.
“My students keep asking about you!” Y/N chirped, smiling widely at him. She was in the kitchen, eating a late lunch. It was almost midnight for Izuku, but he hadn’t felt this awake all week.
Between both of their busy schedules, they only managed to video call once a week, the rest of their communication being text messages and the occasional quick phone call. But when they did video call, they stayed on the line until one of them fell asleep. Izuku was determined not to nod off for at least another hour. Seeing Y/N, even through a screen, was his biggest motivation to keep moving forward on his mission.
It was going well, all things considering. Winter was hell in New York, but Izuku dutifully took his new scarf everywhere he went and bundled up whenever he went outside. It had already been three months, and he had heard whispers around the agency where he was working that the mission might wrap up within the next month if things continued to go smoothly.
He hadn’t told Y/N, not wanting to get her hopes up in case he did have to stay the full six months.
“Really? Do you tell them I’m kicking ass over here in the states? And that I’ll bring them souvenirs if they’re nice to you?” He asked her now, fighting back a yawn. It was only 1AM, how weak was he? Sure he’d chased down a lead today—literally—but that was no excuse.
“Oh, they’re always nice to me,” Y/N rolled her eyes at him as she took a bite of her lunch. “So they’re all expecting gifts.”
He smiled. Y/N told him more about how life was going back home. She visited his mom weekly, cooking with her and oftentimes calling Izuku with her while she was there. As she was telling him about her last visit, he remembered what his mom had told him before he’d left.
“Y/N doesn’t say it,” she told him, eyes already welling with tears as she spoke. “But I know she worries for you as much as I do. She loves you with her whole heart and more, Izuku. I know you love her just as much.That kind of love is too special to let go. Do you understand?”
He did.
They’d both talked about it—marriage. Y/N had told him she’d agree to marry him in a heartbeat, but she understood that they also didn’t need to formally get married and she was perfectly content with how they were now.
He remembered reading columns about them that the newspapers would sometimes put out whenever he got interviewed on big talk shows and he talked about Y/N. The reporters would go crazy with it for a couple of weeks: speculating when a ring would be spotted on Y/N’s finger, when Dynamight would come home after years abroad to attend the wedding, when All Might would emerge from his peaceful retirement to officiate.
Izuku had been sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with Y/N when they’d moved in together, and the first thing she insisted they both do was plant a flower in the backyard. He’d been in love with her for over two years now, but finally moving in with her, seeing her plant the first flower in their new home together—that had solidified everything for him.
“Y/N,” he said now, quietly, as he found himself being overcome with sleep.
She looked up from her lunch, smile softening. “Yeah?”
“Love you so much,” he said. “Be lost without you.”
“I love you too, Izuku,” she replied.
He fell asleep before he could tell her he was going to marry her the second he got back, that he’d buy her a bouquet of flowers to match the ones in their garden in the backyard.
But he had a feeling she already knew. And it made him love her even more.
synopsis: y/n, with a new spider-based quirk recently given to her, is determined to free a little girl she saw on the street. eri. after eri is rescued, y/n meets her again, in the safety of their new home of ua, alongside her rescuers. one of which helps reignites y/n’s dwindling dream, and reminds her of why she wanted to be a hero.
a/n:thanks to the anon who sent in the request that inspired this!! I deviated from it a bit, hope that’s okay!! This is like the 4th spider-man related thing i’ve written, but i love the concept so idc >:)
The first time she sees her is on her second day of UA, on her way back home from school. She was just about to make it onto the street before a man grabbed her and snatched her back into the shadows, almost too quick for Y/N to see anything. Almost. She’d still seen the frantic look in the little girl’s eyes, the bandages wrapped around her arms.
On instinct Y/N follows after them, sprinting across the street to the alley, sure she didn’t imagine it. The little girl had white hair. Impossible to miss, even from a dark alley.
But when she makes it into the alley they’ve vanished. There’s doors leading to who knows where on either side of the alley’s walls, and Y/N desperately yanks at them, wishing the radioactive spider had given her lockpicking skills, too. None of them budge. Y/N calls the police, waiting impatiently for them to arrive. There isn’t a lot of foot traffic along near the alley—at least, not when she saw the little girl. She might be the only witness, and the police might not believe her.
She still stayed and gave her statement, describing the little girl with as much detail as possible. The police took down everything she said, and Y/N hoped they’d look into it. There wasn’t anything she could do. Her body hadn’t automatically reacted with her quirk, because she’d only received her spider abilities a month ago, and they were not second nature to her yet. If she’d swung across the alley with her webs, or at least grabbed the arm of the man with them, would she have been able to do something?
The next few weeks are a blur. UA was notorious for being a hero school, but the general studies course was jam packed with college preparatory courses. Y/N wasn’t able to apply for the hero course since her quirk arrived… late, so she stuck with general studies. After school, she’d walk the same route where she’d seen the little girl every day, sometimes circling back to walk a different route with more alleys. Y/N couldn’t swing from place to place like she wanted to, since a hero on patrol might scold her for it, or she’d get in the way of a mission in place, so she stuck to walking. She’d checked in with the police about the report she’d made, but they told her they hadn’t found anything. So it was up to her to find the little girl again, and save her from whatever was happening to her.
Y/N started training with her quirk at home, avoiding her parents by practicing on the roof or in the safety of her locked room, getting the hang of the sticky touch and the web shooting. The reflexes were a great added bonus—she dominated in PE class. But she needed to train herself to react instinctively with her quirk, especially if she wanted to follow through on her dream of becoming a hero. She didn’t want to fall behind, even though the odds were literally stacked against her.
The little girl found her the next week.
Y/N was walking along a route behind the alley where she’d first seen her when she felt someone bump into her, lightly enough where Y/N may have mistaken it for the wind. But she glanced down and there she was, big red eyes staring right back at her, as surprised as she was.
There’s no one else on the street—it’s mainly filled with warehouses to begin with, and people are still at work. It’s just Y/N and the little girl.
“Hi,” Y/N dropped to her knees quickly, eye level with the little girl. “I’m Y/N, I’m here to help you. What’s your name?”
She was trembling, and an arm’s length away from Y/N. Her bandages looked new, as though they had just been replaced.
Before she could reply, Y/N sees a shadow approaching from the alley, and she scoops the little girl up, ready to sling away with her webs. She turns to latch onto a building across the street and is met with a man standing in front of her, smiling cruelly down at both of them. “There you are, Eri.”
The man reaches up with lightning speed, before Y/N can even react, and touches his fingers to her temples. She vaguely felt the man take Eri from her before she blacked out, feeling her energy drain out of her as her vision faded to darkness.
She woke up to someone lightly shaking her shoulder. Y/N sat up with a gasp, wildly looking around her. “Where is she? Did he take her?”
The workday seems to be over, because the street looks busier than before. The lady who woke her up helps her to her feet, asking if she needs to go to a hospital. Y/N thanked her before stumbling away, still feeling a bit light headed. She knew there was a police station around here somewhere. The woman who helped her insisted on going with her, and Y/N let her help her walk the few blocks there.
The police took both of their statements, and Y/N goes home long after the sun has set, exhausted and fearing the wrath of her worried parents.
Y/N had plans to go back to the police station at least once a week to bother them into taking her seriously, but then the Heights Alliance dorms were built, and she found herself moving into the dorms.
When they were allowed to return home on breaks or odd weekends, Y/N was sure to take the same routes as before, searching every alley for Eri. A few times she thinks she’s seen her, and she calls out to her, slinging across streets to the alley, only to find it empty. Y/N was starting to think she imagined it, but every time it happened, she finds bandages on the alley’s floor. Eri’s had come looking for her, but either was too scared to ask for help or was dragged back to wherever they kept her.
The police tell Y/N to stop calling, assuring her they are on the case. And she believes them, because this is the first time they’ve told her that. She’s practically on a first name basis with the receptionist at the station, who was always very blunt on where they were in the investigation. The next time Y/N calls, she’s told Eri is safe, but they aren’t allowed to say anything more.
Y/N is pretty sure she scares her dorm neighbor with her loud cheers.
“Hey, Midoriya!”
Izuku screamed, almost dropping his notebooks. He was on his way to his dorm, and hadn’t even noticed Mirio. Even without his quirk he was surprisingly sneaky.
“Yes?” Izuku squeaked, still a bit startled.
“Eri-chan’s been asking for someone lately, and no one knows who it is.” Mirio falls into step beside him as Izuku leads him to a nearby bench where they can sit.
It’d been a while since Izuku saw Eri. She was getting acclimated to her new life living on campus, and was doing better than ever.
“Really? What’s their name?” Izuku adjusts his notebooks to set them on his lap. Mirio leans back into the bench, looking thoughtful.
“Y/N, Eri-chan says. She keeps asking for her. Aizawa can’t get much else out of her, I think she’s still a little shaky, especially when it comes to her memories.” Izuku nods.
“So, how’re your classes going?” They fall into an easy conversation after that, until eventually Mirio heads back to his own dorm for the night. Izuku gets his homework done for the day, the name Y/N in the back of his mind for the rest of the night.
A few weeks later, Izuku found himself wandering around the school during lunch. He was in the mood for a walk, but his allergies had been acting up lately, so he was stuck inside as much as possible. He didn’t even really know where he was—he’d never been in this part of the school before. After some vague snooping into classrooms he figured out it was the general studies branch of the school. He brightened, thinking maybe he’d see Shinso around somewhere.
“Y/N!” he heard someone call from down the hallway. He whirled around, almost activating his quirk in his haste. Someone was at the end of the hall, looking at someone else out of sight. “Wait up!”
Izuku bolted down the hallway, but when he rounded the corner there was no one else there. He kept searching nearby classrooms in vain, sure this couldn’t be a coincidence.
Aizawa had told him and Mirio not even a few days ago that Eri had finally shared who Y/N was, and why she wanted to find her. She’d been the first person to try and save her, but they’d both been caught every time. Eri wanted to thank her for all of her attempts. She’d even made her a card already, with a picture of the two of them. Aizawa had shown it to them, and although it was the drawing of a little kid, the UA uniform was unmistakable. Aizawa said he’d search for a Y/N in the school records that weekend. It was Friday today, which meant he hadn’t yet.
“Midoriya?”
Izuku whirled around, mid inspection of an empty classroom.
“Shinso-kun!”
He quickly explained he was searching for someone named Y/N, and if there was anyone with that name in the general studies program.
“Oh, Y/N. I was about to go borrow their notes. I can take you to them.”
But the bell rings just as Izuku begins to practically glow in thanks. He thanks Shinso for his help, telling him he’ll meet Y/N soon, and hurries back to class, suddenly desperate for the end of the day so he can find Aizawa and ask him about the Y/N search.
But Mirio found him first, right after classes are over for the week.
“Aizawa says he might’ve found Y/N! I’ll come get you tomorrow, he’s taking Eri to meet her in the staff room. She’s taken a liking to it, she’ll feel safe there.”
Izuku could barely sleep that night. He was so excited—both for Y/N, who’d feel so relieved at knowing Eri was safe, and for Eri, who was going to be able to thank Y/N. He finally fell asleep at around two in the morning, but not before going through at least five of his hero journals before he got sleepy.
Mirio kept his promise and showed up at the dorms just after breakfast, and Izuku hurried to clean off his dishes before leaving with him.
It felt odd to be on campus on a weekend, but every door Mirio opened for them was unlocked, probably thanks to Aizawa. Izuku unconsciously sped up, scared he’ll have missed the reunion. He’d become invested in this, determined to see Eri smile more as she learns how to be happy and interact more with others.
He found Eri sitting on the couch, looking nervous and staring intently down at the note in her lap. Izuku took the seat beside her after greeting her and Aizawa, starting a small conversation with her while Mirio and Aizawa conversed quietly before Mirio hurried out the door, probably to fetch Y/N. Aizawa sat himself down at the table and sipped his coffee quietly while Izuku talked with Eri. She relaxed after a few minutes, opening her note and sharing her drawing once more, her eyes shining with excitement.
“I’m back, and I’ve brought a friend!” Izuku whipped around at the same time Eri did.
Behind a grinning Mirio was a girl, who tentatively peeked around him, her eyes searching the room before landing briefly on Izuku, and then on Eri beside him.
He heard her sharp intake of breath and watched, transfixed for some reason, as she walked forward slowly toward Eri, who had got up from the couch and was walking toward Y/N slowly.
“For you,” Eri said, thrusting the note out in front of her. “To thank you.”
Y/N took it gently, as though scared Eri would suddenly bolt. She unfolded it and read it quietly, a smile growing on her face and tears starting to slide down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you sooner,” she said, barely loud enough for Izuku to hear from his seat on the couch. Eri offered her a tissue from her pocket, and Y/N took it with a quiet thanks, wiping away her tears as Aizawa started to explain how Eri had ended up at UA.
Eri led Y/N over to where Izuku sat on the couch and she sat down in between them, beaming at them both as Aizawa talked. Y/N glanced at Izuku when he was mentioned in the story, smiling, which he brightly mirrored back to her.
“I’m glad someone was looking out for her,” Y/N said, looking at Izuku with shining eyes he found very hard to meet the gaze of without blushing. He could practically feel Mirio’s knowing smile from across the room where he sat at the long table with Aizawa, talking again now that the long story was over. Eri was busy showing Y/N her outfit and matching bows, and Y/N was complimenting them. Izuku wandered over to his teacher and upperclassmen.
“I’ll take Eri back soon,” Aizawa murmured. “Mirio, walk these two back to the dorms for me.”
“I can walk Y/N back,” Izuku blurted, almost surprising himself. Mirio’s smile returned, and Izuku rushed to finish. “That way Mirio-senpai can head back with Eri-chan, I know he was supposed to spend the day playing with her.”
“Fine by me,” Aizawa sighed, moving to wash his empty coffee mug in the sink. “Straight back to your dorm, Midoriya.”
“Yes, sir,” Izuku replied quickly, knowing the meaning behind the tone and knowing glare Aizawa sent him. No more spontaneous meetings with villains on campus alone.
After a tearful goodbye with promises to visit often, Izuku and Y/N parted ways from Eri and co, walking the opposite way towards the dorms. He was bursting with questions. Eri had only mentioned Y/N had tried to save her multiple times, but often Eri had only caught a glimpse from her across the street before she was taken back inside. What was Y/N’s quirk like? How had she found Eri the first time? Had she had to fight against Chisaki’s men? Why had she filed two police reports, as she’d briefly mentioned—
“This is my stop.”
Izuku stopped in front of the dorm building, where a giant 1-C Alliance sign adorned the entrance above. Y/N smiled at him, moving to enter her dorm building. “Thanks for walking me. Shinso had mentioned you were looking for me, but we both had no idea why. I would’ve never imagined Eri was involved.”
Izuku could only nod, his voice caught in his throat. He hated the way he froze up around attractive people. He resisted the urge to sprint away from Y/N in the hopes of hiding his blush but fought against the instinct. “I heard someone call your name during lunch, and I remembered how Eri-chan had been asking for a Y/N. It’s very nice finally meeting you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Y/N had stopped moving towards the dorm entrance, turning to face Izuku again. “I watched you at the sports festival. Has… Has your quirk always been like that?” Izuku didn’t miss the hesitation in her voice, or the way she subconsciously moved to rub at her wrists, which were wrapped in bandages.
“It’s much better now, I’ve been getting the hang of it!” Izuku reassured her brightly. “It just took some getting used to.”
“I can understand that,” Y/N replied, laughing quietly. “Mine is a bit like that, lately. I think I’ve just been over exerting myself.”
“Ah, your wrists?” Izuku asked, pointing at her hands. “I can offer you pointers! If you’d like, that is. I’m not sure how helpful I’d be, but I love learning about different quirks, and I know about a lot, so I think I’d know something to help you out somehow!” He quickly shut himself up, realizing in horror he’d been rambling.
But Y/N is looking at him with that same look in their eye as before, after hearing how he’d been involved in Eri’s rescue. “Would you? I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You’re not a bother!” Izuku hurriedly said. “Does tomorrow work for you, in the afternoon? I know a spot behind the 1-A dorms that’s perfect for sparring and quirk usage.”
“No problem! I’ll come get you after lunch tomorrow!” He waved goodbye, waiting for Y/N to walk inside before jogging back to the 1-A dorms, feeling beyond giddy with himself.
Y/N’s quirk, Izuku quickly decides, is beyond cool. He’s already filled almost two pages with information about it, complete with a sketch of Y/N mid-swing with her webs.
Her main issue is her wrists, she tells him. At first she was fine, but after using her quirk more often, she’s started to feel the strain, and sometimes her skin would crack and bleed. Similar to Sero and his quirk repercussions, Izuku thought to himself.
Izuku does his best to help her, telling her all he can on how to treat her injuries after over exertion, something he is very knowledgeable in, and after seeing her in action for a while, he copies her moves (minus the webs). It’s similar to how he’s adjusted to flying through the air, but Y/N has the added momentum thanks to her webs, and thus uses more of her strength to change directions or stop.
Together, lying on the grass, they write out a workout routine for her while consulting online resources. Shoulder to shoulder on the grass, Izuku forgets about his nerves as he scribbles in his notebook, talking ambiably with an equally enthusiastic Y/N.
After they work out the plan, Y/N offered to show him her “spidey-senses.” Izuku is excited to see them in action and before he knows it they’re sparring. Y/N’s reactions are instantaneous, moving right as Izuku swings to tap her. He only landed a tap once, when she’s laughing at the determined set of his eyebrows and too distracted to doge properly.
They both tire themselves out and lay back down on the grass, panting.
“Hey, Midoriya.”
“Hm?” Izuku hums from his place beside her, still catching his breath.
“I wanted to be a hero. That’s why I applied to UA. But I wasn’t ready for the hero course, so I went with general studies.” Izuku turned his head to look at her. She was staring up at the sky, twiddling her fingers resting on her stomach. “But after meeting Eri, and you, I think I’m going to work for it. With all I’ve got. I’d be happy just working as a nobody in a hero agency if it means I get to help people.”
Izuku resisted the urge to start crying. “I believe in you, Y/N. And so does Eri-chan.”
He yelped when he felt her slap his arm gently. He turned to see her covering her face with her hands.
“Gonna make me cry again,” she mumbled from beneath her hands. Izuku laughed, rolling away from her when she reached out to smack him again.
Their training sessions become a weekly tradition. Every weekend they meet behind the 1-A dorms and stay there for an hour. Mainly they spar together, making a game out of how many times they manage to touch each other. After they get tired they lay in the grass, pointing clouds out to one another and talking about their weeks. Y/N’s been sticking to the workout routine Izuku helped her make, and she tells him it’s been a great help. He notices the difference in her moves, how she doesn’t hesitate as much anymore, trusts herself to listen to her instincts.
After a particularly tiring session, wherein Izuku won, Y/N plopped herself onto the ground, laughing to herself. Izuku sat beside her, stealing glances at her since her eyes were closed and there was no one around to tease him about it. She looked so at peace whenever they finished training, despite the sweat sticking to her forehead and the heavy breaths that escaped her lips.
“Hey, Midoriya.”
“Yeah?” He hurried to glance elsewhere, up at the clouds.
“I’ve never told anyone this,” she paused before continuing, “but I was born quirkless.”
He almost gave himself whiplash as he turned to face her. Her eyes were still closed, but he knows she could still feel his movements despite her sense of vision being obstructed.
“I got my quirk a month before school started, after a spider bit me. It was so scary to figure out alone. You’ve helped me alot.” She smiled at that, reaching over to pat his hand lightly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, almost automatically. His brain was still processing what she’d said.
“You’re like me, aren’t you?” He froze, his body going rigid in shock.
“It’s okay if you can’t tell me,” Y/N said, eyes still closed. “It’s just nice to know I’m not alone.”
Izuku didn’t trust himself to say anything. He reached out to take her hand, intertwining their fingers. Y/N’s smile returned, and she squeezed his hand lightly.
“I’m glad I found you,” she said, opening her eyes to meet his gaze.
“I’m glad I found you,” he echoed, moving to lay down beside her to look up at the clouds. He was careful not to let go of her hand.
synopsis: izuku is a terrible friend. he’s been lying to his best friend, y/n for over two years now. they’ve been friends since they started high school, but izuku can’t bring himself to burden y/n with a secret that could be dangerous for them. and he also hasn’t fully realized his feelings for them, so he’s just full of struggles at this point.
content:superhero stuff, makeout sesh at the end, clueless izuku
“Language, Midoriya!” Izuku contained a scream when he realized this was a livestream and not a pre-recorded video of his mentor talking to him.
“Sorry!” he squeaked. He adjusted his seat on the rooftop, his legs dangling over the edge. He’d gotten a message from an unknown number to leave his apartment for a while to answer a call, so he’d swung up to one of his favorite rooftops (while wearing his suit to avoid extra attention as some random kid using web shooters to travel from rooftop to rooftop). He was glad he’d kept his suit’s mask on, if only to conceal the way his jaw dropped when he realized it was the one and only All Might who’d called him.
A week after that spider had bitten him two months ago, just as he was starting to adjust to his heightened senses and finally learning to control his “sticky” touch, he’d gotten a single card in the mail, with no return address. It had a number written on it, with the symbol of All Might on the bottom. Izuku had spent that entire day freaking out, contemplating whether this was some government trap to capture him and study him, or whether it was actually his favorite superhero trying to get into contact with him.
Finally, he’d caved. He’d left his apartment to call the number, afraid that the second he called it someone would trace it to his apartment and kidnap him.
Someone had picked up on the first ring.
“Midoriya Izuku!”
He’d almost fainted right then and there.
All Might was on the other line, and he spent over an hour explaining to Izuku what exactly had happened to him, and how he could use this new power to help people, if he was willing. Izuku immediately accepted the offer, not entirely sure what he was getting himself into. Two weeks later, his mom told him a package had come for him. It was an otherwise inconspicuous box, with no return address. Izuku opened it in his room, and he was very glad he did.
It was a suit. His suit. After his call with All Might, and after he’d been recruited on his team (that still felt way too surreal to even think of) he’d started designing a suit, mainly for fun. He’d been a superhero nerd ever since he was little, and he’d had his fair share of old costumes his mom had made him. But none of them matched his new abilities, so Izuku designed his own. He’d sent a picture of it, plus his notes on it, to the number All Might had left him, and now he was looking at it come to life, sitting in a box on his bed. The second he tried it on he knew he hadn’t made a mistake.
Every small detail he’d included in his notes had come alive in the suit. Whoever had made it had even left a note on how to perfect his web formula, and clear instructions on how to tweak the suit to upgrade it if Izuku wanted to. It was perfect.
He was only allowed to use it, and his new abilities, when he got “the phone call.” The call was always from an unknown number, and always from a member of All Mights team, a man who insisted Izuku call Radio. Radio would send him out on small missions, always in the afternoon, which All Might explained was to ensure his work would never interfere with school. It was the summer before he started high school, so this wasn’t a major concern. That, and the missions were always pretty low risk. Capture this bad guy, drop him off at the police station. Take back this dangerous chemical, leave it at the All Mighty lab at HQ. Small stuff.
But not small enough to avoid the internet. Pretty soon he had his fair share of fans, and it flustered him. He was still just a kid, and he’d already been dubbed Spider-Man from countless enthusiastic strangers online. If he were in their shoes, an innocent bystander/hero geek, he would’ve done the same, so Izuku couldn’t really blame them.
Radio had gone silent for a month, which concerned him. All Might’s call had been the first one in a while, and Izuku had assumed it would be Radio when he answered. He started high school in two weeks, which had been a great distraction. He was scrambling to get everything he needed together.
“Holding up well, my boy?” All Might asked him now. He looked like he was sitting in his office at HQ, which Izuku had only seen in videos posted online. Izuku nodded mutely, still in shock. He hadn’t talked to All Might in a while: since he’d asked Izuku to join his expanding team of emerging superheroes. Izuku wasn’t sure how many members were on the team now, since more and more had been appearing, and they all remained anonymous for safety purposes, and to avoid government intervention. Many of them were thought to just be rumors, because no one had ever seen them in person. But Izuku was fairly confident every single rumor was true. HQ had overflowing resources, he’d come to realize. Much more than they let on.
“I’m just calling to check in,” All Might continued. “And to let you know you won’t be getting anymore odd calls from Radio.”
“I won’t?” Izuku tried to keep the sadness out of his voice. Hadn’t he been doing a good job? He thought he’d been doing a good job. What had gone wrong? He’d kept his promise of secrecy, telling his mom those afternoons and evenings he disappeared were because he was doing an internship at one of All Might’s tech hubs (which wasn’t technically a lie).
“We don’t need to coddle you any longer, Radio reports,” All Might said. “We will of course call you for any missions, but for now you’re free to use the suit for hero work, whenever you’d like. Radio told me you chose an internship alibi—very wise, young Midoriya. I’ll have someone leave a paper trail of that in case inquiries are made.” Izuku heard background noise, and All Might’s eyes travelled around the office, looking at things out of camera shot.
“I have to go now, my boy. Remember to be discrete, don’t do anything too dangerous without calling Radio. His number’s been left in your phone. Goodbye now!” And with that he hung up, leaving Izuku dazed and sitting on a rooftop to contemplate this new burden of freedom.
Izuku started high school soon after. He’d kept up with his workout training, which consisted of walking upside down all over his room, lifting the odd broken down car or two, and regular workouts. And he’d started patrolling the city’s streets every afternoon, after he’d shown his mom the email congratulating him on his acceptance into the daily internship All Might had forged for him.
Izuku was pretty nervous about starting high school, and his nerves were heightened the second he stepped into his homeroom class.
“Not this nerd,” he heard the familiar drawl of an old friend. “Get the hell out, Deku.”
Izuku didn’t pay him any attention. Ever since he’d realized he could literally swat Kacchan away like a fly if he really wanted to, his taunts didn’t bother him much. Still, Izuku chose the seat farthest from his corner of the room, where he’d already sat down and was talking with classmates. He sat down in the far corner, near the windows.
“Why’s he say it like that,” he heard someone say from the seat behind him. “Deku,” they breathed, in an over exaggerated but otherwise accurate mocking of Kacchan’s voice.
Izku couldn’t contain his laugh, turning in his seat to glance behind him.
Apparently his classmate didn’t think they’d be heard—they had a sheepish expression on their face. They offered him a small smile. “Sorry. Just hate jackasses like him.”
“He’s not so bad,” Izuku confided in a low voice, fearful Kacchan would somehow hear them from across the room. “That’s just how he is.”
“Hmm. If you say so. I’m Y/N, by the way.”
“Midoriya Izuku.”
“Nice to meet you,” Y/N beamed, and it made Izuku feel a new kind of warmth. He hadn’t had a lot of friends in middle school, what with being the kid people picked on and all. And here he was, in a new school, with a secret identity, and with a friendly classmate who didn’t hate him.
Maybe high school wouldn’t treat him as badly as middle school.
“Nice to meet you too, Y/N.”
Sometimes, Izuku felt like his mom knew what he was up to. He’d had to excuse one too many black eyes, and the bruises not hidden by his clothes. He was constantly refraining from blurting out “I’m Spider-Man!” every time they sat down to watch TV together.
Izuku had been “Spider-Man” for a little over two years now, and he’d managed to keep his identity hidden. He hadn’t been sent on any more missions, and hardly got any phone calls from HQ anymore. Radio still sent him a “keep up the good work” every few weeks, especially if he ever ended up on the local news. But he’d just been patrolling the neighborhoods of the city, and helping the local police out by catching the odd criminal or two. He’d become a familiar friendly face to the city, and he was perfectly happy with how things were going.
With his superhero life, that is. His civilian life was a bit different.
His grades slipped sometimes, because he spent a lot of his free time swinging around skyscrapers and kicking bad guy butt and less time working on homework, but he always managed to catch up and avoid failing out completely. And a lot of that was thanks to his friends.
Izuku didn’t know what he’d do without Iida, Uraraka, and Y/N. Iida was never shy about expressing his disappointment in Izuku and his missing homework assignments. But he always lent him his notes to catch up. Uraraka would fling pencils at him in class if he ever fell asleep, and would help him convince teachers he’d do better next time, since she was well loved by everyone on the staff. And Y/N…
Y/N kept Izuku afloat, and had been doing that ever since they became friends when they started high school. They were put into practically all of the same classes, and they’d bonded over group projects, late study nights, and even bus rides to school since they lived in the same area. If he ever came home late at night, and his mom let him know Y/N had called to check in, he was never too tired to talk to them. Even though he had to cancel plans with them a lot, and they covered for him the few times he skipped afternoon classes to chase a lead, they still stuck by his side.
Every time it was just the two of them hanging out, which was becoming a dishearteningly rare occurrence, he almost blurted out the truth, too.
But then he remembered the promise he’d made to All Might, and to himself for that matter.
“No one can know who you are, my boy,” All Might had said. “If the truth about you reaches enemy ears, they may get to you before we can. And I do not want the government hunting you, either.”
If Izuku told Y/N, he was sure they wouldn’t tell anyone. But there was the risk of someone finding out that they knew who Spider-Man was, and taking them hostage to lure him out. He’d thought of the possibilities and consequences of his secret getting out too many times, and the dangers outweighed the positives.
So he lied. To protect everyone around him.
“I’ve got the internship, sorry!” Was probably his most used phrase. His close friends had stopped inviting him out after school, knowing he was more available on weekend mornings. Y/N showed up to his house at night sometimes, around the time he came home. Inko chatted with her until he returned, or went to bed early to get up early for work. Y/N would sleep on the couch in the living room, or on a futon in Izuku’s room whenever they showed up late at night. Inko never minded, and Izuku would always reassure Y/N of that. “I’m pretty sure she likes you more than me,” he’d always joke.
Now, sitting in Chemistry with Y/N beside him, the irrational urge to whisper his secret returned. Y/N was actually a pretty big Spider-Man fan, and Izuku knew they’d freak out if he told them who he was. They turned slightly to stare back at him, making a funny face before turning back to face their teacher. Izuku breathed out a laugh and went back to his halfhearted note taking. Chemistry was his best subject, and he got along with the teacher very well. So much so that he was allowed to do experiments on his own, as long as he didn’t use anything from the locked up dangerous chemical cabinet in the back of the classroom. So Izuku used what he could to make his webs, making it quickly in between classes or before school and stashing it in his locker.
The rest of the day crawled by. Izuku was constantly checking the time—he’d come to memorize where every clock in the entire school was placed. He was chasing a breadcrumb trail of some small scale grocery store robberies, and was so close to getting something big enough to call it into Radio, who could compile everything neatly and report it to the appropriate authorities. Spider-Man never got credit for situations like that, but Izuku never cared about the attention. He’d see the arrest story on the news and feel giddy all week, knowing he’d played a role in taking down a bad guy.
The second the end of the day came Izuku was off, waving goodbye to his friends and promising Y/N he’d be done before the sun set, something he was for once confident in.
A few blocks away from school, he stashed his backpack and quickly stripped off his clothes. A few times he’d been caught, half naked, by people who lived nearby, but he hadn’t had an incident like that in a while. He slipped on his suit, stuffed his clothes into his backpack hurriedly. He then put his backpack into a clean trash bag he brought with him, and put it in the dumpster. It wasn’t trash day, no need to worry about that. And he hadn’t seen anyone keen on digging through the dumpsters in this area, so it was safe.
And then he was off. He’d restocked on webs for today, but he still did his best to conserve what he could for emergency uses. Pretty soon he was closing in on what he thought would be the next robbery site, when he got a call. Not on his phone, but through his suit. HQ.
He stumbled onto a rooftop, almost failing to stop his momentum and tumbling over the edge. He sat down hard to answer the call.
“Hey kid,” Radio’s voice sounded from inside his suit, as though Izuku was wearing headphones.
“Hi,” Izuku replied. “I was in the middle of—”
“Yeah, I read your texts,” Radio yawned. “No worries kid, what you had was enough. Cops already got them.”
“Really?” Izuku let out a sigh of relief. “I was a bit scared it happened while I was in school. Thank you, Radio!”
“Good job on it, spidey boy. Keep it up.” And with that he hung up. Izuku smiled, letting out a loud shout of happiness on the rooftop where no one would hear him. He decided to call it an early day—Radio would have told him to keep patrolling if he had something pressing for him to do, but he hadn’t. And Izuku could easily slip on his suit again at home and swing out into the night. It was Friday, which meant he could stay out as long as he wanted to (without his mom knowing, of course).
On his way home, he made small stops to help a few people after getting his backpack back. Helping a dog walker get untangled from a hoard of leashes, giving a tourist directions, and helping shut off an old lady’s car alarm. By the time his apartment building was in view, he felt he’d done his part in helping the city out today.
He quietly opened up his window, afraid his mom might be home, although she usually went out to visit Mitsuki on Fridays, and rolled onto his bedroom floor with ease, landing in a crouch facing his bed.
He wasn’t sure who was more surprised to see who—Y/N to see their favorite superhero, here in their best friend’s room, or Izuku to see them, crying on the floor of his bedroom.
For a second they both froze. Izuku was glad he hadn’t slipped off his mask yet. At this distance, there would be no way Y/N didn’t recognize him.
“Wrong room!” he said, willing his voice to sound a bit deeper than what it actually was so Y/N wouldn’t recognize it. He didn’t move from his position. “So sorry for intruding but… are you okay?”
Y/N was still frozen, staring. “Wrong room?” they repeated.
“Yeah, my place is near here and this is actually the second time I’ve messed up on the window entrance,” he said quickly. “Sorry for barging into your room like this.”
“It’s okay, not my room,” Y/N wiped the tears off their cheeks. “It’s my friend’s.” A few more tears slipped down their cheeks as they spoke.
He went from his crouching position to sitting with his legs crossed, scooching a bit closer to Y/N. “What’s your name?”
“Y/N,” they replied, giving him a watery smile. “I’m actually a big fan of yours. Didn’t expect to meet you like this.” They laughed quietly.
Izuku had never wanted to hug someone more. Just wrap them up in his arms, tell them everything was okay.
“I’m here now,” he said, as cheerfully as he could. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”
Y/N sniffled and eyed him suspiciously, as though just now realizing there was a strange arachnid man in their best friend’s room.
“Thank you,” they said. “That’s really nice of you, everyones right when they call you the friendly neighborhood superhero.” They took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m just a bit confused, that’s all.”
“Confused?”
“Mhmm,” Y/N said, reaching up to place a hand on their chest. “About my feelings.”
“How so?” He hoped he didn’t slip up and use his real tone of voice. Y/N would recognize it, even in the state they were in now.
“I think I’m in love with my best friend.”
Izuku froze. Y/N was too busy staring down at their feet to notice, and he quickly composed himself, hoping his heart didn’t beat out of his chest in shock.
“Really? Isn’t that a happy topic, love?”
“I guess,” Y/N let out another quiet laugh. “But I think this love is more one-sided. And besides, he deserves way more than me.’
“Don’t say that!” He couldn’t help himself. Y/N stared at him with wide eyes. “Look, I don’t know you, but you seem really nice and you’re really cute, and if your best friend doesn’t see that then that’s on him!” Wow, way to fix the fact that your best friend probably hates you and your cluelessness, Izuku.
Y/N smiled, tears no longer flowing. “Thanks, Spider-Man.”
“No problem,” he responded, getting to his feet. “I should get going. Tell him how you feel, Y/N.” He walked back over to the window, climbing halfway out before turning around to say one last thing. “He might feel the same way.” He waved and then swung out of view, landing onto the rooftop. He quickly stripped off his clothes, not really caring if anyone saw him. He changed back into his regular clothes and hurried down the rooftop stares, desperately trying to get to his apartment before Y/N decided to take Spider-Man’s advice literally and leave Izuku behind for being a love blind idiot.
“Y/N?” He burst into his apartment, panting slightly.
“Yeah?” Y/N’s voice came from his room, sounding way less nasally. “You’re back early.”
He walked into his room to find Y/N sitting on his bed, not looking at all like they’d been crying. He must’ve been in here not five minutes ago, and they already looked so composed.
“Yeah, finished up early today!” Izuku chirped, setting his stuff down in the corner of his room, kicking his backpack into his closet so Y/N wouldn’t study it closely and realize it was the exact same one Spider-Man had been wearing. “My mom’s going to have dinner with Mitsuki today, want to go out and grab some food?”
“Sure,” Y/N responded. “Your turn to pick.”
Izuku ended up not confessing his feelings for Y/N that afternoon. They’d run into Iida, who was buying a new set of No. 2 pencils for testing season, and the three of them had gone out to get dinner. Izuku had asked Y/N if they wanted to sleep over that day, but they declined, saying they hadn’t given their parents the heads up. So the three parted ways after they ate, and Izuku was left alone with his thoughts.
He’d stepped into the doorway of the apartment before deciding that no, he wasn’t about to chicken out and let Y/N think they weren’t good enough for him for a second longer. He slammed the door shut, much harder than necessary, and hurried down the stairs, dialing Y/N’s number as he did.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” Izuku asked, bursting out of the building and running towards Y/N’s address at full speed.
“You just walked me home you dweeb. I’m in my room,” Y/N replied. “Why?”
“Stay there!” Izuku yelped and narrowly avoided running into someone. “I have to tell you something.”
“Are you running?” Y/N asked, hiding a laugh. “What is it, did you finally realize I stole your All Might shirt? You have plenty, and I wanted to see how long I’d get away with it!”
He was flying up the stairs to Y/N apartment, and finally reached their door. He knocked before letting himself in, knowing Y/N was bad at locking it after they got home.
“What—”
He dropped his phone onto Y/N’s bed, where they were staring at him in confusion, and, before he could talk himself out of it, took their face into his hands, and leaned down to kiss them.
If his entire body had been buzzing before, it was on fire now. Y/N’s lips felt so nice against his, they felt so warm. He hated himself for waiting so long to kiss them.
When he broke away he was panting slightly, running his tongue over his lips. Y/N opened their eyes to stare into his, and touched their lips with their fingertips.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a year now,” Izuku breathed, still standing over them and still holding onto their face. “I like you a whole lot, Y/N, and I—”
They tugged him down to kiss him again, hands gripping onto his shirt before pulling him onto the bed on top of them, never once letting go of him.
“Y/N,” Izuku broke away for a second, unable to hide his smile. He was carefully hovering above them, hands on either side of their face, not wanting to rest his entire body weight on them “Sorry for not telling you sooner.”
“Hmm, that’s okay now,” Y/N said, running their fingers through his hair and tugging at it lightly. “Especially now. You’re a great kisser, Izuku.”
He smiled and leaned down to kiss them again.
He’d never been more grateful for being Spider-Man—to think he was going to keep these feelings all to himself before today. He felt guilty about making Y/N feel that way, and he made a mental note to find a way to make it up to them. But right now, he was focused on the present, the way their lips felt against his, the way their hands were in his hair and then underneath his shirt.
Sure, swinging from building to building and getting that feel of freedom was nice, but this feeling was a thousand times better. Incomparable, really.
“Sorry to come by so late.” Y/N bleary looked at him, fighting back a yawn with one hand and rubbing at their eyes with the other. Izuku was in his usual All Might pajamas, and still in his All Might slippers despite how cold out it was that night. And with no socks on either.
Y/N pointed at his foot as if they were actually speaking out loud, but Izuku understood. He laughed breathily, his breath visible in the cold. “I just needed to see you. I had a bad dream.” Normally Y/N would be one to tease him for such behavior, especially after Izuku had shared a nightmare of him turning into a broccoli stem, but Y/N knew his dreams could get serious.
“Come inside.” Y/N quickly ushered him in, shivering at the cold and at the brief contact they had with Izuku cold arm as he walked inside. “Lets warm you up. Come on.” Izuku followed Y/N wordlessly down the hall to their room. Unfortunately this was a routine they both found themselves doing monthly, when Izuku’s nightmares worsened to the point where he felt as though he had to leave the comforts of his room and talk with someone else.
Y/N was lucky to have a larger than necessary mattress—perfect for sleepovers and sleeping like a starfish. They quickly snuggled under the covers and lifted up the blanket, letting Izuku settle in beside them. His arm pressed against theres, and Y/N instinctively reached over to rub their hands up and down his arm in a vain attempt to heat it up. Izuku sighed at the warmth of Y/N’s blankets and their touch, his eyes already drooping with sleep.
“Just being with you helps,” he mumbled as Y/N took his hand and moved around to get comfortable. Y/N smiled sadly, squeezing his hand gently. “Get some sleep, Izuku.”
specific tw: food/eating, chronic pain, anxiety. see masterpostfor genre + general tw.
notes: god i missed this fic
you sit on the edge of your bed – the one at yamada and aizawa’s house, not the one at your foster family’s house – and stare at the piece of paper in your hand. your phone is in your other hand, open to the contacts page. your favorites – your mentors and amanatsu-chan – hover at the top of the list. everyone else in your phone is either your foster parents or someone you’d done a school project with.
you don’t really want to call him – talking over the phone is just asking for a dry conversation that cannot be easily escaped. texting him is awkward but… less so. and not contacting him is worse, because if he gets in and so do you, you’ll have to see him every damn day, knowing you effectively ghosted him before you even talked.
you type midoriya’s number into a new contact and send a quick text.
you: hey, it’s [surname], from the exam
you plug your phone in to charge and lay down to take a nap, exhausted after the exam, when your phone buzzes on the floor next to your bed. your mattress is on the floor – it’s comfortable and you’re not going to fall very far out of it – so it’s easy to reach your phone. the screen glows with a text message. how the hell is he awake after getting nearly his entire body healed? shouldn’t he be practically comatose?
midoriya: oh hi!! this is midoriya!
so many exclamation points. anxiety. pleaser. you brush the unnecessary thoughts away and unlock your phone to open the message. several more pop up.
midoriya: you already knew that tho, sorry
midoriya: did you still want to tell me about your quirk?
midoriya: it’s okay if you don’t!!
jeez, he types as fast as he talks.
you: yeah, i can still tell you abt it
you: tomorrow work for you?
you pull the quilt further up to block the light coming from the window behind you. your head sinks into the pillow; your head hurts. the bright screen is making it worse. it feels like your brain is six feet outside of your skull, raw and exposed in the open air. your neck aches.
midoriya: yes! tomorrow is great! i live in musutafu, so if you do too, and if you want, we can meet up? i really don’t have anything to do while i wait for UA to release the results (;´・`)>
the kaomoji is cute. it makes the corner of your mouth twitch. the idea of seeing someone you don’t know well, however – that makes your skull nearly crack. you say yes anyway.
you: sure. i live in musutafu too
well, at least for the week while you wait for the results. no point heading back if you’re going to be attending school here. (not that you want to head back. being here is much easier.)
midoriya: great!! i’ll text you tomorrow about it ヽ(´▽｀)/
you turn on do not disturb and put your phone face down on the floor. your head fucking hurts, the bones in your fingers feel like they’re vibrating and grinding each other into dust, and you’re going to sleep. hopefully it’ll go away if you sleep.
—
aizawa is slumped over his bowl of rice and egg, but neither you nor yamada, presumably, is worried about him face-planting this morning – his grip on his chopsticks is good enough to indicate that he is, in fact, awake. yamada is eating at the speed of light in order to get to the radio station on time – not that he’s ever late in the first place.
you stare down at your bowl of tamago gohan. “hey, uh…”
yamada pauses and nods encouragingly, still stuffing rice into his mouth. aizawa turns imperceptibly towards you.
“do applicants get points for rescuing other applicants on the exam?”
aizawa is trying not to smile, or at least you assume he is, because he shoves his face down into the capture weapon he’s already wearing.
yamada looks blankly at you, chewing.
“yeah,” says aizawa, and shoves some rice into his mouth.
you go back to eating.
yamada chews faster and swallows in a hurry. “you’re not supposed to tell them that, shota!” he hisses, like it’ll do any good.
aizawa shrugs. “they already knew. illogical to lie to their face.”
“it’s not lying if i don’t say anything.”
“omitting information.”
“omitting information that they are not supposed to have!”
“omitting information,” aizawa says, firmer.
“and they say i’m the loudmouth?”
“cheap shot.”
“still scored.”
aizawa huffs – he’s not really annoyed – and turns to look at you. “why?”
“i saw someone at the exam only rescue people – they didn’t get any points from the robots.”
aizawa nods and eats some more rice. “they’ll be fine.”
yamada gets up to put his dish in the sink, “but don’t tell them that.”
“sure.” good thing you didn’t ghost him, then, since you’re probably going to end up in the same school.
your phone has a few texts waiting for you when you get back to your room after washing the dishes.
midoriya: i’m basically free all of today – we could meet at the takoba beach park?
you: okay – i can take the 4 pm train
midoriya: okay!! ill meet you at the station at 4:15?
you: see you then
you put your phone back down and crawl under the covers for another nap. your hands still feel like the bones in them might explode.
—
the train is mostly empty, so you sit in the back – you can see all of the doors from there – and put in one earbud. you leave your phone on do not disturb again, with only aizawa, yamada, amanatsu-chan, and midoriya’s notifications allowed. those are the only people you’ll need to talk to today.
the more rural and suburban areas of musutafu open up as you leave the city – more space, less places for people to hide, fewer people in the way. not quite as rural as your legal residence, though.
you can see him through the window of the train as it slows, waiting on the platform. he has his backpack on – which looks a little poorly proportioned on his broad frame – and a stupidly big smile. his expression actually hurts your stomach a little bit.
the doors slide open and you step off.
“hi!” he waves and you raise your hand in response, then shove it into your pocket.
“hi, midoriya.”
he looks at you, and you want to look away. neither of you speak, and neither of you look away.
“midoriya, the beach? how do we get there?” you prompt, finally ripping your gaze away, the silence too aggravating for you.
“right, right, yeah, uh, just follow me? i’ve been going there since i was a little kid and i spent a lot time there this summer so i know the way really well!”
you walk beside him. “i have one question, before you start asking me things.”
he nods way too quickly.
“actually, two. one – why do you want to know so much about my quirk? two – did you score any points on the exam yesterday?” you fix your gaze ahead, but you’re still watching for his reaction, which will hopefully be unguarded, since you’re not looking directly at him.
midoriya chews on his lip and walks a little faster. “for the first one, it’s because i find quirks really interesting! i’ve been analyzing them since i was a kid because i wanted to be a hero, and i really liked watching the fights and the news clips and, and, ah, i uh, didn’t get any points. no.”
“did you apply to the support department as well? they’d probably like to have a quirk analyst.”
“no, i didn’t. i really wanted to be in the hero course…” he tangles his fingers in his hair. “it probably sounds ridiculous. but i did really, really want to. i thought that maybe i’d have a chance.”
you hum. “maybe you still do.”
he whips around fast enough to break his neck, “what? but i didn’t– i didn’t get any points, i didn’t get any of the robots except that giant zero pointer that broke my arm! it would be stupid to keep hoping, you know? even if i passed or did well on the written exam…” he stops walking, looking at his feet. “even then, i need to accept that i won’t get in. i didn’t get any points on the practical, and i need to be realistic about it.”
you’re not sure if he’s telling you or himself, but a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, and you look at him from the corner of your eye. “but they never said admissions were based on points, so you still have a chance, right?” you leave out the part about rescue points.
midoriya laughs, bright and clear, sudden, and it burns like chlorinated pool water in your sinuses. he claps a hand over his mouth and then drags it down his face like he doesn’t know what to do with himself – he probably doesn’t. there’s a long silence as you start walking again, and he jogs to catch up.
you’re in step again when he almost trips over one of his feet in a sudden fit of excitement, apparently done processing (mumbling) and ready to launch into a rant.
“i might have a chance, i, i might actually have a chance. i can’t believe it, how did i miss that? that makes so much sense, though, because they just said we could gain points, not that it actually mattered how many you got… oh my god–”
“we’re here, midoriya.”
the waves, crystal blue, lap gently at the beach. it’s the afternoon, but the beach is relatively empty and calm, not crowded with people. or crowded with the piles of garbage that had washed up there. “this is much cleaner than i remember it being.”
just like last time, he follows your conversation jump without issue. “yeah i, i kind of spent the whole summer cleaning it?”
“nice. i’m sure the whole community appreciates it.” you have to actively work to make sure it doesn’t come out flat. you’re not entirely sure it works. you really do mean it, you think.
the compliment or the tone must set off some kind of alarm in his head, because he’s immediately waving it off. “no, no, no one knows i cleaned the beach! it was a personal project and it’s – oh no, now you think i picked this spot to brag about cleaning the bea–”
you kick some sand at his shoe, hands still in your pockets. “midoriya. i don’t think that. it’s fine.”
“really?” you’re quiet, and he slowly un-pretzels his arms from around his head. “oh, uh. okay. good!” he nods to himself. his smile slowly comes back until it feels like the sun is blazing full force in your face, bright enough to make you look away at a bench that happens to be to your right. it’s in the ocean grass right before the sand begins.
“we could sit over there?”
midoriya nods again and you sit down on the bench, one knee pulled to your chest. he sits next to you, cross legged, shoes on the bench, and pulls out a notebook and pen. the sun glows marigold on the white pages.
he scribbles your name down at the top and turns to you, “do you have a hero name yet?”
you rest your chin on your knee. “i haven’t picked one, no.”
he beams, and it feels like you’re in front of a solar flare. “that’s okay! i can help you come up with plenty later, if you want! or if you already have some ideas but you just don’t know which one to pick, i could help you with that too.”
you wait a few seconds to see if he’s done talking – this rant isn’t an anxiety tangent, so no need to interrupt it. “sure.”
“so, can you just manipulate energy in your surroundings? or produce it? or store it? can you absorb any energy at all, no matter the form?”
he writes as you respond.
“it has to… i have to use my physical body as a conduit in order to manipulate it. i can’t change it without it passing through some part of me. and i can store that energy, and i’d assume every form, although i haven’t tried nuclear, and for safety’s sake i won’t try it.”
midoriya keeps scribbling, apparently unphased by the nuclear comment. he pauses and taps the pen against the page, humming. “but what about sound, or light,” he mutters, the tapping speeding up, probably keeping time with his thoughts. “you can’t really touch those forms…”
“yes you can.”
he stops tapping his pen, blinking at you.
“if you can hear it or see it, you’re touching it, or more accurately, the energy is touching you. same thing with heat – if i can feel the heat from a fire, i’m touching the edge of that energy source, which means i have access to the whole thing.” this is starting to feel oddly like a quirk counseling or training session.
“is there a limit? to the amount of power you can hold? do you have to release it? what happens if your quirk gets canceled or you turn it off while holding energy – wait, wait, can you even turn your quirk off? does it work that way? what about turning off the absorption and the storage separately? can you do that?” he’s practically vibrating, pen blurring in his hand as he switches between writing and tapping the pen on the page.
you wish you’d brought a notebook, just to keep track of all of the questions. you grab at them, trying to keep them all centered in your mind until you can get through all of them. you lunge for the topic in general instead. “yeah, i can hold onto it – the more energy there is, the harder it is to hold onto. like dropping soap in the shower. if my quirk is cancelled, the energy dissipates. so far that’s been harmless.”
you have no idea how he can keep writing without looking at the page. he’s looking at you instead, beaming.
“and what about turning your quirk off? can you?”
“yeah, but i prefer to leave it on and just… intentionally not absorb anything.”
he turns to you and you can feel the next question that’s coming – why? doesn’t that lead to symptoms of overuse? – so you reroute the conversation.
“i have some questions for you, midoriya.”
you can see the way he mentally stumbles, tripping over himself as the momentum of the conversation shifts in an unexpected direction. “you have questions for me? about me? me?”
what he means is what could there possibly be to ask about, to know about him. a terrible sense of familiarity curls in your gut, so you abruptly swerve away from the quirk questions. you won’t reduce him to that, even if that’s what he’s reduced himself to, or perhaps what he’s beenreduced to.
“why do you want to be a hero?”
“it’s been my dream since i was a kid. and recently it’s become someone else’s dream for me, too, so i can’t let that person down!” he clenches his fist and smiles like he’s facing something down. it’s a childish kind of joy, one that should look out of place on a soon-to-be-hero’s face, but he wears it well.
you cock your head, “but… why is it your dream? it just being a dream isn’t a reason.”
“it’s my goal to save people, both from villains and from the possibility of villains. i don’t want anyone to be worried about being a victim,” he says, simply.
you nod and rest your chin back on your knee. “who’s your favorite?”
“all might! he’s just… i want to be unbeatable like that, so that way no one has to worry, so that people will see me and think ‘i’m safe now.’ i want to make people happy and safe, and he does that really well!”
he beams at you in the afternoon sun. “what about you?”
“my favorite?” you pull your other leg up onto the bench and turn to face him, mirroring his cross-legged position.
“yeah, your favorite!” he’s still holding his notebook and pen, but he’s not tapping or writing anymore. just waiting for you to answer, focused.
a smile cracks across your face, barely unrestrained. “eraserhead, present mic. but gang orca, fat gum, ingenium, joke, and midnight are close behind.” they’re all great to hang around. sakamata-san sucks at monopoly, though.
“they’re all really cool, yeah! have you met any of them? i was really lucky and got all might’s signature a few months ago.” he flips his notebook to a different page to show you.
“why am i not surprised that he signs in all caps?”
midoriya beams even brighter at that, laughs, and it stings a little less in your lungs than the first time. you have to force yourself to pick the conversation back up and not let it drop into the quiet white noise of the waves.
“yeah, i’ve met all of them, actually.” at yamada’s saturday game night. nemuri and emi are always there, and tensei used to bring kid’s games when i was small.
midoriya almost throws his notebook in his excitement, hands flying around again. “you met all of them? how?! they’re all so busy and their agencies are in completely different places! some of them don’t even do signings, so there’s no way you could have met them without either looking for them in their patrol areas or seeing them by chance, but that’s a lot of heroes to just see by–”
you reach out and take the pen out of his hand. his jaw snaps shut. he plays with the corner of one of the notebook’s pages, staring down at it instead of looking at you like he was before.
“sorry,” he says, quieter, slower. “i know that all the talking and mumbling to myself is annoying and creepy.”
you hand the pen back. “it’s not.” he looks like he gives himself whiplash from how fast he looks up.
“it’s not annoying,” you say it again, shrugging. “i just… i could explain it to you if you just ask. no need to wonder about it.”
he clutches at the pen with both hands, holding onto it tightly. he chews his lip again. “you’d answer? i know i’m asking a lot of questions. i don’t want to be a bother!” he lets go of the pen with one hand so he can wave rather frantically.
“if you were being a bother, you would know.”
midoriya’s smile comes back, not full force, wobbly and nervous, mercury knocked slightly out of orbit, bright and unsteady. he shuffles so that he can sit facing you. “so… then how did you meet them?”
you twist the truth as it rolls off your tongue. “one of them is my mentor.” two. “i met the other pros through them.”
he looks so incredibly excited that you worry all that energy will tear his body apart. “oh i have a mentor too! i can’t tell you who it is, so you don’t have to tell me who yours is, that would be unfair. do you think everyone at UA has a mentor? is it common?”
“i don’t think so, at least not for first years.”
midoriya slumps back against the arm of the bench. “oh, that’s a relief! at least i have a little less catching up to do, then.” he sits up fast enough that he almost falls off the bench. “i don’t mean that i’m ahead of everyone! i did not mean to come across that way, i just meant, uh.”
“you meant the gap you’re trying to cross is smaller than you thought it was for a second.”
he nods and relaxes again. you study him for a few seconds.
“you’ll catch up,” you say. he will.
midoriya looks at you like there are stars in his eyes, shining, glossy, probably because he’s tearing up. “i hope you’re right. there’s a lot riding on you being right.”
“i’m always right.”
he laughs. this time it doesn’t sting at all. “i hope you’re right about that, too.”
“you’re always hopeful, it seems.”
“i try.”
that makes you laugh through your nose. he glances at you when you do, and you see his smile melt into something soft, thoughtful. hopeful.
reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!! ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* main taglist here,series taglisthere. back to gt&h masterpost.
specific tw: canon-typical violence, bullying, and injury (midoriya breaking his bones), brief mention of uraraka throwing up in line with canon, bakugo does call reader a bitch just in case anyone has some gender issues w that. see masterpost for genre + genre tw.
notes: bakugo is a bully here, but fear not i will be doing my best to do him justice in this series.
the UA lecture hall looms in front of you, and you’re not going inside of it. not because you’re avoiding the written exam, or because you want to stay out here with all of the other people – loud, chattering, grating on your ears. no. you’re out here because it’s sunny and warm, and, both fortunately and unfortunately, loud. this is the best place to charge your quirk for the physical exam.
you watch the other students arrive as you bask in the heat and light and noise, observing the ways they walk and talk and approach each other: ankle injury, probably acts rashly, touching her hair to calm herself down; nervous, shy, doesn’t like his smile. easy to figure out. you move on to observing the next group of students – might as well, there’s nothing else to do while you wait.
a blonde man with spiky hair walks through the gate, scowling, hands shoved in his pockets. you watch as he zeroes in on another man – solidly built, with green hair and a curled-in sort of posture – standing by himself near the steps, about ten feet away. you want to say they’re friends, but that doesn’t seem right, with the way the first guy is practically stomping toward the other one. maybe not friends, but they definitely know each other.
the blonde grabs the other boy by a backpack strap and yanks him forward, “what are you doing here, nerd? trying to one-up me, hah?”
yeah, they definitely know each other, and they definitely aren’t friends.
the guy with green hair is shaking and trying to push the other man’s hand off of his bag. “i’m just here to take the exam, i have the right to apply, kacchan–”
“and do what? cheat to get in? you’re not good enough to get in, so what’s the point in trying, deku?”
fuck it.
you’re over there in a flash; the sunlight and conserving your quirk for the past few days has made it easy to use bursts of kinetic energy like that.
the blonde man – angry guy, you decide – sees you approach and whirls around, still gripping the other guy by the strap of his backpack. “fuck off, extra. this is between me and deku.”
you blink at him. “no.”
the nervous guy – deku – starts scrambling to get out of the angry guy’s grip, and the blonde’s hand starts popping with what look like small explosions. he looks like he’s about to start some kind of tirade, so you cut him off.
“look, i don’t know who either of you are, or what you,” you jab a finger at angry guy, “think you’re doing, but you shouldn’t be getting in people’s heads before the exam. it’s underhanded and nasty to undermine someone’s performance like that.”
deku, green hair, whatever his name is, is whipping his head back and forth between the two of you, looking like a deer in the headlights of two oncoming cars, not knowing which direction to run. “uhhh–”
angry guy snarls. “i am bakugo katsuki, and this is deku, and you’re a nosey bitch that i’m going to turn into a stain on the ground.”
you grab him by the shirt and suck the heat and noise and light right out of his palms. “no,” you hiss, “i’m the nosey bitch that you don’t want to mess with. leave, or i report you and you don’t get to take the exam.” you pry his hand off of deku’s backpack and shove angry guy away. “get.”
he stumbles back, switching between glaring at you and his smoking palms, which he shoves back into his pockets. he’s hiding his hands; unnerved, then. “fine. i’ll see you after, deku, when they’re not around to get in the way,” he throws another scowl over his shoulder and stalks off, into the exam hall.
you turn back to deku, who is staring after the other boy, stunned. “are you okay?” it comes out so stiff that you can hear your parents telling you to talk nicer.
he shakes his head and looks back at you. he still looks dazed, eyes flitting around your face, swallowing nervously. “yeah, yeah, i’m fine. mhm. just fine. totally.”
“do you want me to report him? i know the proctor, and he’ll kick that guy out for bullying.”
he shakes his head even harder, taking a step back and waving his hands in a frenzy of activity, flushed, “no! no, you don’t need to report him, i promise he doesn’t mean anything by it, kacchan has been my friend my whole life, he just shows it a little differently, you really don’t need to report him – he needs to take this exam, he’s perfect for the hero course, really. yeah. i promise, you don’t need to report him.”
you look him over, eyes narrowed, skeptical. “mhm.” he looks like he’s going to combust. you switch directions before you have to deal with even more awkwardness, “i’m [surname] [first name].”
he visibly relaxes. clearly he’s glad to have moved on from potentially reporting his ‘childhood friend.’ “midoriya izuku, and it’s great to meet you!”
midoriya’s smile is so bright that you wonder if you could use it to fuel your quirk. the thought makes you smile, just a little. “yeah, good to meet you too.”
you stand there and watch him fidget. the conversation might be dry and awkward as hell, but nothing gets people to talk like silence, and he keeps looking like he’s going to reach for something in his bag.
“can i…” he chews his lip, then brightens, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “can i ask some questions? about what you did to kacchan’s quirk?”
your smile almost drops, but you keep it up. he can use this information against you, if the exam is structured that way. he doesn’t look like the type, but… it’s not smart to share that type of thing. you don’t owe him anything – you just saved his ass, and his friend’s ass by way of not reporting him; if anyone owes anyone, he owes you. and you’d really prefer not to discuss this, anyways.
midoriya is almost vibrating with excitement. he gets a notebook and pen out so fast that he almost drops them. the look on his face is so hopeful, bright; it makes it hard to say no.
“fine.”
“so, you extinguished his explosions, right?”
you nod.
“did you deactivate his quirk? can you put fires out? is it an oxygen manipulation quirk? or a chemical reaction manipulation quirk? maybe you’re planning to work with water hose as a rescue hero?”
the variety of guesses, the possibilities, they make your head buzz, so much to think about. you file those away for later, when you can look them over in detail. “no deactivation, yes i can put fires out, no oxygen manipulation, and it doesn’t work too well for being a rescue hero.”
midoriya scribbles frantically, smile splitting his face, glancing up at you and nodding in between notes. after a while he stops and cocks his head. probably waiting for you to explain. you could toy with him and make him guess, which is what you usually did to people at school. but he just wants to know for the sake of knowing. that much is obvious, just from the pure excitement he’s exhibiting over basic questions. it’s stupid to do this, you remind yourself, if the exam pits us against each other, he’ll be fully capable of taking me down – or at least of planning to take me down. it’s stupid – but he looks so happy, and you may not be in the same exam section, so you do it anyway. you give, just the tiniest bit.
“it’s energy manipulation.” i won’t answer any more questions after this.
“i have so many questions– can you–”
present mic yells from inside the hall – the presentation on the written exam is about to start. the other students start to make their way inside.
his face falls – god, he wears everything on his sleeve, doesn’t he – and it makes your chest tighten. weird.
“i can explain after the exam, if you want.” it makes the weird chest feeling go away, at least.
just like that, he’s beaming, pen flipping in his hands, writing something down before tearing the paper out of his notebook and handing it to you. “i’m not sure, uh, if there’ll be an opportunity to talk after the exam? so here’s my number?”
you take the paper. he freezes and abruptly goes bright red, obviously realizing something.
“oh my god i did not– i totally did not mean it like that i just wanted to talk to you about– i’m so sorry that was so rude i promise– i wasn’t– i uh–” he covers his face with his hands. “i cannot believe i just. oh my god.”
you just put the paper in the outside pocket of your bag. “i didn’t think you meant it that way, so it’s fine.”
“thank god,” he mumbles, still hiding behind his hands.
that’s not something you’re gonna try and read into. you point toward the hall. “midoriya, we should probably go inside. the exam information session is gonna start and i’d rather not miss it.” it sounds awkward, stiff, but it’s the best you can manage.
“right, right! crap!”
—
this is almost too easy, you think, downing robots with localized electromagnetic pulses. it’s quick work, and it doesn’t take too much energy. you didn’t even need your capture weapon for this – it just makes it easier to maneuver, but you would’ve been fine without it.
still, you are starting to run out of energy. you’d refused yamada’s offer to charge you by screaming positive statements at you – you were going to pass this exam without help, thank you very much – and as much as electricity was a great charging source, it really concerned your parents and your mentors when you used electrical outets. fire was, similarly, out of the question. the point is, sunlight only does so much, and your palms stung from all of those electromagnetic pulses, and you’d absolutely wiped the floor with the rest of the contestants – you stopped the twenty initial robots dead in their tracks with a giant pulse right off the bat. so yeah, your battery capacity is running a little low.
of course that’s when a giant, towering, zero point robot shows up. there’s a woman trapped under rubble left behind by one of the more destructive candidates, she’s struggling to push it off. energy thrums under your skin and you’re off like a shot, speeding toward her in a blur of kinetic energy and the robot is approaching and you’re almost there and–
and the energy runs out and you fall hard, still going some unholy speed, tumbling across the pavement with the force of your momentum like you’ve been thrown from a speeding car. you land in a heap next to the young woman. you sit up – completely fine, and slightly recharged from the impact – and start trying to dig her out from under the slabs of metal and concrete. you have to pump kinetic energy into your limbs and back to lift the rubble. your bones are starting to feel a little brittle.
“if i can touch it with my hands, i can float it away,” she says, jerking her chin towards the rubble on top of her. she seems remarkably calm, even if her jaw is clearly tense – from pain or fear or both, you’re not sure.
either way, you nod and focus on the chunk of concrete pinning one of her arms. the ground is shaking as the robot gets closer. you need to hurry.
a flash of green flies by. you keep pushing the rubble until she has a full range of motion, and she floats the rubble off of her.
there’s a terrible crunching noise – you look up. midoriya is falling from the sky. the robot is incapacitated. and you are out of energy again. you have maybe five seconds. your capture weapon can’t reach that high, and it has more than enough tensile strength to hold him, but you’d risk his momentum slamming him into the ground at such a short distance.
you turn to the woman next to you – thankfully she’s visibly unharmed, other than a few cuts and bruises. “hey, can you float people too?”
she nods, exhausted and draped over a floating piece of rubble, one that had been under her when she was trapped. you shove her and the rubble through the air, approximating where midoriya will land – she reaches out to grab him just before he hits the ground.
everything falls out of the air. you’re grateful your feet were out of the way of the cement chunk. she throws up over the side of it. you’re even more glad that you were out of the way.
midoriya is lying on the ground, limbs twisted at awful angles, miraculously alive and not passed out or dead. you sit next to him on the pavement, careful not to touch him, because frankly his arm looks like the bones have been liquified.
“i’ve got some questions about your quirk, dude, never mind mine,” you say, wondering why the absolutefuck someone with a bone breaking quirk would want to ask about yours, which was comparatively pretty straightforward.
“yeah, me too.” it’s strained, but either he can’t feel anything or he’s got an insanely high pain tolerance, because he should be passed the fuck out from using a quirk that intensely. for his sake, you hope his brain has decided to cut off all those pain signals.
“you can still talk? while your arm and legs look like they’ve gone through a meat grinder?”
he winces. “is it that bad?”
“worse.”
“hopefully recovery girl gets here soon.”
you wonder if you should even ask, but he seems like he’s willing to respond to most things. anything. “so you’re telling me… you didn’t know your quirk was going to do that to you?”
“yeah.” he goes along with the topic u-turn, like you’d predicted.
“you propelled yourself hundreds of feet in the air and punched a giant metal robot in the face, not knowing what your quirk would do?”
“otherwise both of you would’ve been crushed. i couldn’t just let that happen!”
“thanks, i guess? although, since you’re so interested in it,” you huff a laugh, “you ought to know that my quirk would’ve protected both of us. you kind of broke your bones for nothing.”
he’s quiet. you get the feeling he’d be putting his hands over his face again right about now, if his arm wasn’t pulverized.
“but i appreciate it. not letting people you’ve just met get crushed by a giant robot. and now we’re even, too.”
you watch a watery smile flicker across his face, but it’s not a grimace. he can’t feel his arm and legs, then, at least. the thought soothes you.
recovery girl arrives, and you stand up. she can take care of midoriya and gravity girl. “see you at UA.”
you hear him say something like, “but i didn’t score any points!” as you walk away. rescue heroes exist for a reason, midoriya. and there is no separate exam for them.
you can only hope you’re right.
reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!! ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* main taglist here,series taglisthere. back to gt&h masterpost.
pairing + wc: parental erasermic + reader, midoriya izuku x reader in future chapters just not in prologue; 3.7k
specific tw: discussions of human trafficking + child abuse by villains, mention of foster system, mentions of death, mentions of chronic pain, collapsing buildings. see masterpost for genre + general tw.
notes: i’m rlly happy to be re-releasing this w gender neutral reader + some minor tweaks to the style! <3 pls enjoy!
your chamber is cold, dimly lit, and soundproofed. there’s very little for you to draw energy from, but there’s no worry of you getting too cold – the faint lights, far above, are enough for you to generate heat using your quirk. just not enough for you to get out, and just enough to make you strain as you force your quirk to keep running.
sensei stops outside your chamber – you can feel the buzz of electricity in his cells, and you press your tiny hand to the wall, trying to figure out exactly where he is on the other side of the one-way mirror. the warmth of your hand drags against its cold surface, a blur of barely-there fingerprints, the lines of your palm smeared with the motion.
you stop when sensei is directly in front of you. the buzzing in his cells sings to you. you press closer to the mirror. there’s another pocket of electricity, but it feels odd, shifting; sensei is probably talking to that man with purple fog over his face. but you’ll never be able to hear them, not with the way your chamber is insulated, so you walk back to your bed, in the back corner of the room.
it’s starting to get warmer in the chamber, so training will be soon. you’re only allowed large quantities of energy when they know you’re going to use them up.
but hours pass, and the chamber is too hot, your whole body buzzing as the energy tries to jump out from under your skin. maybe it’s a new training exercise, a new way to push the limits of how much energy you can absorb. either way, you have to keep drawing it in, or it’ll get too hot.
you fall asleep and wake up sweating, skin crackling, and the air smells humid and warm and full of ozone. it’s hard to breathe, it’s so heavy – your lungs keep trying to hold it in, extract every last drop of energy from it. you have to force yourself to exhale, hard, like sensei taught you.
there’s light cracking through your skin, but you register it only faintly, too focused on grappling with the twisting, writhing mass of energy and trying to force it to stay in the center of your body.
but it’s not staying still – every time you push down on a wave of energy trying to escape in one direction, it just pulses out in the other. maybe, if you just let a little bit of it go, you’ll be able to hold on to the rest of it?
you hold your arm out, intent on discharging a small sound wave – but the cracks on your arm, the light energy seeping out of them in wisps, it scares you, and suddenly that ball of energy is tumbling out of control.
the wave of kinetic energy ripples out of you and slams into the walls of your chamber – they splinter with a deafeningly loud sound, folding and tearing like wet paper into the chambers next to yours, and the one-way mirror shatters into millions of tiny shards. but it doesn’t stop there – the entire building is shaking, and you can hear the other mirrors shattering and see the other walls crumbling throughout the warehouse. and then the ceiling comes down on top of you.
–
shota gets the call at six in the morning. or rather, he gets the call, but hizashi picks it up, because there’s no way in hell that anything is waking him from the dead of sleep on his day off.
except hizashi, who just shakes him awake and hands him the phone, saying, “it’s for you, babe. something about an explosion.”
“eraserhead speaking.” he wants to complain, but he knows it’s not the operator’s fault, and he knows there’s a reason they called him in on his day off.
“we need you to suppress some kind of explosion quirk in the warehouse district. there’s a collapsed, sorry, still collapsing building, and some fire and electricity issues. the fire department is dealing with the parts of the building that are burning, but there are people trapped inside, and the heat signatures indicate that one of them – a child, judging by size – is causing uncontrollable explosions, which are making it difficult to get anyone out. cementoss is currently stabilizing the building.”
“i’ll be there as fast as i can.” he can’t find it in himself to complain anymore.
as shota swings himself across the city on his capture weapon, rapidly approaching the warehouse district, he can see a plume of smoke billowing against the orange of the sunrise. he stops on top of a building and uses a nearby lamppost to lower himself to the ground.
the collapsed warehouse is smoking, and steam is rising off of it in the early morning light, but it is thankfully no longer on fire. cementoss is fusing cement slabs together in an effort to keep it from caving in further, and infrared hero, aptly named infra (hizashi calls her “heat seeker”) is intently watching the building. shota approaches her for debriefing.
“it was hard to see, earlier, with all of the fire interfering, and it’s blurry because of the heat retention of the concrete, but there are at least twenty people inside, half or more of which are children. there’s someone close to the center of the structure who is periodically letting out bursts of heat, and who we assume is also producing some kind of kinetic shockwave.”
“and cementoss has constructed a pathway so i can extract the person without disturbing the rubble and crushing other victims?”
“yes–” infra starts, and is abruptly cut off when the building rumbles, the ground shuddering along with it, the pavement near its base fracturing. “yes,” she pauses, eyes narrowing, “but you might want to wait while cementoss deals with whatever might’ve come loose just now.” she hands him an earpiece so she can direct him to the source of the explosions.
shota stands there, watching the wood and cement and metal smoke and steam, until cementoss gives him the go ahead.
he picks his way through the rubble, listening carefully to infra’s directions. sirens wail in the background, and broken glass crunches under his feet, but he can hear children crying through all of it. shota moves faster, pulls his goggles over his eyes.
infra tells him to stop and look down and to the right. all there is is a pile of debris, and it makes his heart leap into his throat. he starts digging through the chunks of cement, using his capture weapon to pull away particularly heavy or sharp pieces and to keep any large ones from falling. he has to work quickly, or risk getting hit by whatever quirk is hiding under there.
it only takes a few seconds, and then he’s looking down at a child – maybe seven years old, a little kid, curled up in a ball with their arms around their knees. there’s fissures in their skin with light pouring out of them, ashes in their hair. their eyes are glowing a terrifying, brilliant white – shota activates his quirk, hair floating up, and all the light evaporates from that tiny little body, they just look like a normal, scared kid.
it hits him that they really should’ve sent someone who was better with children. maybe gang orca. well, he might as well bite the bullet.
“i’m eraserhead. what’s your name?”
“[surname].” the kid looks up at him, face blank except for a slight frown. “what did you do to me? where did it go?”
shota offers his hand, and they take it, standing up. “where did what go?”
shota doesn’t have an answer.
he leads them out of the rubble, and thank god for the fact that they’re following – he really does not want to deal with a kicking, screaming kid in the middle of an unstable structure. the sunlight glints off of warped rebar, sharp and threatening. he tugs the kid slightly behind him.
“the energy. your hair went up and it went away.”
he has no fucking idea. “you’re right, it went away.” sometimes, telling kids that they’re right is the fastest way to get them to be quiet. surprisingly, it works.
they follow silently, gripping his hand with their tiny, slightly chubby fingers, until they finally get out of the rubble maze. now that the exploding kid is out, it’s safe to extract the other victims.
he crouches down in front of them, still holding their hand. “i’m going to leave you with the medical team, okay? they’re gonna check you over and take you to the hospital, if needed. i have to go get the other people out of there.”
except when shota stands up and tries to move away, they aren’t letting go. he tries stepping away again. it doesn’t work. it’s not just that they’re not letting go, it’s that he can’t break their grip – which is ridiculous, they’re a child, and their hand doesn’t even encompass his, meaning there’s a point where it should, in theory, be easy to break their hold.
theory isn’t holding up.
“you need to let go, or else i can’t get the other people out.” maybe he can guilt them into letting go? thankfully the other heroes on the scene are already digging through the rubble for the other victims.
they shake their head furiously, making some of the ash in their hair fly off. “no, sensei said i have to stay here. i can’t leave.”
shota resists the urge to drag a hand down his face. he really wishes tsukauchi was already here. “this is a school?”
“yes.” they nod solemnly.
“but this is the warehouse district.”
they stare at him. he tries breaking their grip again. they squeeze his hand tighter, and shota hears one of his joints crack.
“you can tell the police about the school and sensei when they get here, but you need to let go. i have to do my job. besides, your sensei is still in there, and i need to go rescue them.”
they cock their head, but loosen their grip a tiny bit. “no, sensei isn’t here. he left with the man who makes purple mist doorways. i think all the teachers left. i felt it, when they disappeared.”
felt it? grip strength? explosions? he can think about whatever the hell is going on with this child’s dangerous, wack ass quirk later. “okay, but the other students are still in there.”
“no,” they scrunch their eyes shut, grip tightening. “i can’t feel them. except amanatsu-chan. no one else is there.”
shota has a horrifying thought about heat signatures and dead bodies. he motions infra and one of cementoss’ sidekicks over.
“where is amanatsu-chan?” he asks, making eye contact with the sidekick, who is paying very close attention to the kid.
“she’s right next to where i was. in the room to the right, ‘cause she’s a month older than me.”
he turns his back to the kid and looks at infra. “that is the only person we need to rescue right now. everyone else is probably dead, according to them.”
infra looks toward the building, scanning. “the heat was probably trapped by the collapsed structure, and the fire made it difficult to see, but now that some of the rubble has been moved and the fire has been put out… there is only one heat signature that could possibly belong to someone who is alive. everything else… not even hypothermic bodies get that low.”
the sidekick rushes off with infra to guide them.
shota drags the kid along with him to the ambulance, which is now useless, with the exception of the two kids, and sits with them while the medical team looks them over. they still won’t let go of his hand, but he could break their hold now, if he needed to. if he wanted to.
he doesn’t.
—
they get the kid to the hospital, only with shota riding in the ambulance next to them, but they’re fine, and so is the other kid – a little girl. the only reason they decide to take the two kids to the hospital in the first place is because there’s nowhere else to take them, and they really, really need to see a quirk specialist. the other kid had some kind of odd, controlling speech effect, and he cannot, for the life of him, figure the first kid’s quirk out.
he leaves them with the quirk specialist, whom both kids use the sensei honorific for – they do that for every nurse and other adult, too – and goes back home to sleep. it’s almost the afternoon, but he doesn’t care. it’s his day off, damn it.
—
fuck that quirk specialist. he and hizashi are going to have to help the kid manage their quirk, according to his medical advice. thankfully, cementoss and tiger are more suited to the second kid.
he picks the problem child up from the train station in civilian clothes, hizashi next to him, cap pulled down to hide his face, hair half-down and not in that ridiculous cockatoo style. the kid’s brand new foster parents give them their phone numbers.
hizashi smiles at the kid and takes their hand, obviously completely forgetting that he’s not dressed as present mic. he does that around kids. “what’s your name, little listener?”
“[surname].” they turn to shota and blink accusingly, like he was supposed to tell hizashi.
“your first name, though?” hizashi prods, and shota laughs quietly through his nose.
“six.”
he stops laughing.
hizashi laughs awkwardly, his complete opposite, and definitely trying to smooth the situation over. “well, do you want to be called something different?”
their eyebrows furrow, and they reach for shota’s hand; he lets them. fine, they can hold both of their hands, dammit.
“is that allowed?”
hizashi gives him a look, one that means what the fuck. “yeah, yeah that’s allowed.”
“i think [first name] would be fine then.” they nod, like it’s an important decision.
“okay, [first name] it is, then. can i call you [first name]-chan, little listener?” hizashi says, starting to walk in the direction of their home. honestly, shota forgot that people use that honorific for children. he tries to avoid them in rescue missions; they’re uncomfortable around him, find him unnerving.
[first name] nods again. “mhm.”
“great! you can call me yamada-sen–” shota activates his quirk to tell him to shut up without actually telling him to shut up in front of the kid.
“no sensei honorific,” he mutters, thinking of the warehouse.
“you can call me yamada. that’s aizawa, kay?”
they nod again.
great, he’s training a child.
—
turns out they don’t need much training. the email from the quirk specialist explained that they could absorb energy and then manipulate its form, but it did not explain the frankly worrying level of precision they had.
they’re standing in the park, across the street from their hero-specialized apartment complex.
“i’m going to scream, kay? and you’re going to try to absorb it, and then we’ll see what you can do.” hizashi is still holding the kid’s hand, fifteen minutes after they’ve gotten back from the train station. shota is starting to worry that he’s getting attached. who is he kidding – of course hizashi is attached.
“aizawa will shut your quirk off if it’s too scary.”
they nod, already frowning in concentration. hizashi steps back and screams “HELLO!” at the lowest level possible. it still makes the grass ripple and the leaves on the trees shimmer. the kid just giggles, unphased, eyes glowing, and the grass and trees behind them are completely still, undisturbed. their control is disturbingly tight.
“again!” they shriek, relaying every bit of hizashi’s volume, and shota has a sickening thought about the types of bonding activities this kid had in that warehouse. training is playtime, to them.
all the pieces fall into place; the blacked out, confidential police reports, the inability to locate biological parents, the overpowered quirk, the ridiculous level of control for a child, sensei, the other children, the number six. quirk trafficking. all for one. collecting successors. his stomach turns.
he jerks back to the present as hizashi laughs and complies, yelling “HELLO!” again. shota can see the worry and caution seeping into his stance, though. they’ve been together long enough that he knows they’re both having the same thought, because hizashi isn’t stupid, and he’s seen every ugly little thing the world has to offer.
this time the kid doesn’t yell back, just holds out their hand. “wanna see what i can do?”
shota gets ready to activate his quirk, and hizashi nods.
their hand bursts into flame. shota’s hair flies up on reflex, a familiar burn in his eyes. the fire goes out, and a blast of light spirals off of their skin and dissipates into the air.
they all try several times more. [name] sends electricity crackling across their arms, drills a hole in the ground with a push of kinetic energy, makes their whole body glow with light, lifts a rock that no child should be able to lift. not once do they seem scared, not once do they hurt hizashi or break anything they don’t mean to.
they don’t need help managing their quirk. they need an outlet. (they need parents).
—
the years pass quickly; he and hizashi get teaching positions at UA, he expels and re-enrolls hundreds of students, works the streets at night. hizashi runs his radio show and works as a daylight hero and teaches english. they train [first name] every weekend, until the kid occupies the spare room at their house and the cats almost like them better than shota. [name] stays with their foster family during the week, and hizashi says he misses them, and shota wishes he could say different. (he doesn’t).
they watch the way they avoid going to their teachers when they need help, avoid going to their parents, and only ever come to them, shota and hizashi. shota thinks they have issues with trust, hizashi says they have issues with authority. shota worries about what that means they see their mentors as – authority figures they can trust. (it doesn’t worry him at all).
they crush exams and don’t talk to other kids, and hizashi and shota only know this because hizashi tries to make dinner table conversation about the kid’s classes and friends, and [name]’s answers are noncommittal, “i’m near the top of the class, okay?” and “i don’t really have any.” they proudly tell them that they punched someone in the face for bullying another kid. they ricochet wildly from sullen and silent to laughing obnoxiously loud. hizashi worries for their social development, shota tells him that they can’t go to parent teacher conferences, because they’re not the damn kid’s parents. (they are. [name]’s foster parents don’t go.)
they get sick after training some days, staying an extra day instead of traveling by train, just lying in bed while their quirk makes their whole body hurt,because it was cultivated for power, not for compatibility with the human body. hizashi calls their parents, who call the school, and he makes them tea with honey and lemon. shota sits in their room with them and the cats. the next day, after they leave, hizashi will say, “it’s just the weekends, but it feels like we’re raising them,” and shota will say, “we’re not.” (they are).
he teaches them how to use a capture weapon after they beg for months. they’re terrible at it. they keep trying. they get better, and they like heroes in black costumes and they listen to english music, and they want to be just like them, and they’re loud and sharp and sarcastic and competitive and sometimes quiet and kind, and it doesn’t make him cry into hizashi’s shoulder at night, it doesn’t. they don’t have a kid. they don’t. (they do).
—
they want to take the UA entrance exam, and shota wants to throw himself in front of a bus. he tells hizashi as much.
“shota, you can’t just expect them to be a civilian. they want to be a hero.” he’s doing his hair, yelling from the bathroom so shota can hear him from where he’s laying in bed, wondering how much longer he can stay there until he has to get up and go teach the brats.
“it’s dangerous, and they’re a kid, hizashi. kids always want to be heroes, it doesn’t mean they have to be.”
“first of all, they’re almost an adult, UA is a college. and even if you still think of them as a little kid, they have training, two mentors, and a burning desire to save the entire world. good luck stopping them. and it’s not like we haven’t been encouraging them for their entire life by giving them said training!”
“but it’s dangerous!” he sits up and slaps the quilt.
he hears hizashi sigh and sees him stick his head back into the bedroom. “they’re in too deep to stop unless they suddenly hate heroes. plus, we literally teach kids how to be heroes. you literally are a hero. you have no room to talk. none.”
“but those kids are–”
“less well-trained? not our kid?” hizashi raises an eyebrow as he cuts him off.
shota shuts his eyes and lays back down. “fuck.” he wants to go back to sleep. “they’re not our kid,” he adds, as an afterthought. it makes his stomach twist.
“sure,” says hizashi, and goes back to doing his hair.
—
“kid,” you hear aizawa say, and you look up from your homework. it’s a saturday.
“yeah?” he’s standing in the doorway, holding a flat, white box, like the kind fancy clothes come in.
aizawa shuffles in and sits on your bed. he pats the space next to him, “sit.”
you set down your pen and sit next to him, cross legged, in your pajamas, eyeing the box. he puts it on your lap and you lift the lid off; inside is a pile of black fabric, one long, thin strip, with threads of metal glinting in it.
“you’ll need it for the exam,” he says, and stands to leave.
you clutch the cool, heavy fabric to your chest, knowing it’s the ticket to your dream, your chance to prove yourself. “thank you.” thank you for believing in me.
“don’t mention it.” of course, kid.
reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!! ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* main taglist here,series taglisthere. back to gt&h masterpost.
power, the touch of the gods, comes at a price. it’s something you pay for, willing or not, and it’s not a choice you get to make – it is either a blessing that guides your way, a burden you have to bear, or both. the issue isn’t that you’re powerless; the issue is that you’re powerful, and you’re not sure if you want to be, and more importantly – you’re not sure if you’re allowed to be anything else.
you’re splitting izuku’s soul apart at the seams, your mentors are worrying themselves to death, and you have no idea who, or what you are.
pairing:midoriya izuku x reader, ft. parental erasermic
genre:angst, hurt/comfort, found family, excessive lore and worldbuilding
all students begins this fic at age 18. UA is a university.
general warnings: violence, injuries, anxiety, chronic pain, generally unhealthy mindsets, cursing, food/eating, exercise/training. discussion of child abuse and human trafficking by villains. canon bullying, violence, etc.
ongoing!! this is a fun personal project for me, i will never abandon it, but it does not have a strict ending, i’m keeping it relatively open for my own enjoyment.
specific tw: anxiety, injuries, exercise (bc hero training). see masterpostfor genre + general tw.
notes: i apologize to anyone who wanted a not slow-burn romance. i’m terrible fjfj
you’re walking onto the field with midoriya and the rest of the class. aizawa is leading the class to the throwing pitch. his earlier comment about you being ahead had made it seem like you were the most obedient student, and the idea of being the teacher’s pet makes your skin crawl. you’re making your way to the top without favoritism as a stepping stone, and you need to know he’s not playing favorites.
but that wasn’t favoritism. that was a sharp comment used to keep the class in line. and, as a side effect, to put a target on your back. he was challenging me to do better.
you are where you are as a result of your own work, and it had better stay that way.
the class shuffles into a little crowd in front of aizawa, chattering nervously. he begins talking, and the whole class almost immediately falls silent, anxious to hear the test guidelines. “we’ll be testing your quirks today.”
gravity girl’s hand shoots up.
“yes?”
“what about the entrance ceremony? orientation?” she wrings her hands.
“UA is known for having a freestyle education system. the professors are no different. there is no time to waste on ceremonial things. you have three years to become heroes, and that time is better spent learning than attending ceremonies,” he looks out over the class, and when no one raises their hand, he continues. “do you remember the no-quirks-allowed gym tests you participated in in middle school and high school? the ball throw, 50-meter dash, endurance run, etcetera?”
you see a few people nod in front of you, but mostly everyone just stares.
“it’s irrational to bar quirk usage on those exams. all that does is prevent you from reaching your highest potential.” aizawa turns sharply to look at bakugo, kacchan, asshole-bully-guy from the practical exam, whatever his name is. “bakugo-san, how far could you throw in high school?”
“sixty-seven meters.” he has a kind of bitter, snarling look to his face.
aizawa dips his face down into his scarf, and you know he’s hiding his smile again. he hands bakugo a softball. “do it with your quirk.”
bakugo takes the ball and steps into the circle.
aizawa pulls out his phone. “do whatever you want, but stay inside the circle.”
bakugo grins with too many teeth and stretches a bit. midoriya shuffles nervously next to you. you wonder if you can block the sound of explosions fully.
bakugo finishes stretching and winds up to throw, sending the softball rocketing off into the sky with a powerful blast from his hand and an eloquent “DIE!”
you muffle the explosion and the shout a little bit in your and midoriya’s area at the last second. he glances at you, mind clearly already spinning like a hamster on a wheel, but you don’t say anything.
aizawa holds up his phone, “705.2 meters,” he says. “it’s rational to know your limits; only then can you push beyond them, and only then can you build a foundation on which you can become a hero.”
there are various cries of excitement from your classmates, elated to have free reign over their quirks and to be able to show off in front of potential new rivals and friends.
aizawa laughs; the whole class pauses to look at him. “you all want to be heroes, right? and you think this is awesome? that it’s fun? that it’s a game? well, the person with the lowest score across all of the events will be judged as hopeless and lacking potential, and i will expel them.”
and re-enroll them, you think smugly, knowing aizawa is and has always been too much of a softie to expel a student permanently without a much stronger line of reasoning.
but the rest of the class doesn’t know that, just like they hadn’t known when aizawa was finished explaining earlier, inside, and the cluster of students erupts into chaos.
“that’s completely unfair, sensei! it’s only the first day!” gravity girl protests. you think of training sessions in the warehouse and the lack of mercy from sensei. aizawa was and is far more fair to you than sensei could have ever been.
“the world is full of unfairness,” aizawa responds, echoing your thoughts. “as heroes, it is your job to find, overcome, and correct unfairness. and for the next three years, you’ll be training and studying non-stop in order to improve your abilities to the point where you can do that. UA will put you through the wringer. it will feel unfair.” get used to it.
—
izuku worries that he’s about to die of a heart attack. he is paired with kacchan for the fifty-meter dash, and he’s completely unprepared for this test.
if i use one for all once, i’ll be incapacitated by pain for the entire rest of the exam, which means i have to choose one of the later events to boost my score.
one for all will only occur as a burst, since i can’t sustain it, so it’s no good for me to choose the endurance run, side stepping, toe-touch, or sit ups. the fifty-meter dash will be first, so i can’t choose that. grip strength and long jump come after, both ideal for a burst of power, but both too early for me to use one for all. that leaves the ball throw, which is in the middle, but later than the other options…
“choose the ball throw,” you whisper from next to him, completely nonchalant.
izuku jumps in surprise, although at this point it’s not that he’s surprised he’s mumbling his thoughts aloud, it’s that he’s surprised that you listened to him talk.
“you’re right that it’s the best for a burst of power and that it’s the latest opportunity you’ll have.”
he flounders. they’re my competitor, they shouldn’t be helping me – if i do well, they could be expelled instead! but maybe they know they don’t need to worry about being expelled, because they’ll do well enough? maybe they don’t think we’ll really be expelled?
“midoriya,” your voice pulls him out of his head again. he’s not sure if he was talking aloud this time, and you give no indication either way. “it’s your turn.”
he tries his hardest to race against kacchan, he really does. he does better than in high school, at least, but he ends up with a mouth full of soot from an explosion too close to his face. izuku steps back on the sidelines and tries his best to focus on the ball throw, to think through minimizing damage and maximizing power output.
instead, he watches you step up to the starting line. you’re racing the woman with the ponytail, who has made herself a light motorbike, the kind built for sudden acceleration in races. the air around you shimmers like a mirage, wavering, unstable. your eyes glow brighter and brighter.
aizawa starts the race and you’re off like a shot; he barely even sees you move, but you skid to a stop in a cloud of dust, ponytail lady following close behind.
“3.03 seconds,” the counting machine chirps helpfully, followed by ponytail’s time.
iida huffs and adjusts his glasses, and izuku remembers iida’s time: 3.04 seconds. holy shit. they’re faster. his hands itch for his notebook.
the grip strength has you nearly crushing the measuring device with hundreds of kilograms of force, and the standing long jump sends you ridiculously far. every event has him watching the air ripple around you and preparing for the smell of ozone and a crushing display of power. he watches kacchan fume as you stay ahead of him in every event, palms smoking.
then it’s time for the ball throw.
izuku steps into the circle. he takes a deep breath and prepares to throw with every ounce of power one for all can provide. but the end of the throw doesn’t feel like it should, it’s like he’s losing his grip on the ball, but that isn’t it.
“46 meters,” says the measuring machine.
his heart drops. he had tried to use one for all, and not only was he an unfit vessel, unable to contain that level of power, he couldn’t even call on it properly. the odd feeling of losing his grip is still there.
“i erased your quirk,” says aizawa-sensei, a good distance behind him.
izuku whirls around. that’s what that odd feeling was. my quirk was gone.
aizawa-sensei’s capture weapon is hovering around him and his hair is standing up. “the entrance exam is ridiculous and irrational. you cannot control your quirk; it incapacitates you. but you were still allowed in. after that throw, do you know what would have happened?”
izuku’s heart bangs against his ribs. he gets the sense that the question is rhetorical, so he keeps his mouth shut.
“you would have been unable to throw again without healing, just like in a combat situation, where you would be unable to aid your allies because you would either be physically incapacitated from the injury, or mentally incapacitated from the pain. you cannot be a hero if saving one person will take you out of commission.” aizawa-sensei sighs and closes his eyes tightly, hair floating back down as he snatches the ball with his capture weapon and hands it to izuku. “you have your quirk back. try again and get it over with.”
izuku’s face burns, his eyes sting. his classmates are chattering around him, and he hears kacchan make a comment about izuku probably being expelled. and the thing is, izuku knows, he knows that he hasn’t caught up, that he’s not even close to where everyone else is, that his quirk is working against him and that in his current state, he really did get in by luck.
but he stuffs his anxiety back down because he has another shot and he is not going to waste it, not when for the first time in his entire life, he has a friend, someone who believes in him.
yes, he has his mother, but she had scarcely begun to believe in him by this morning. yes, he has all might, but he is all might’s successor, it’s practically a requirement for him to believe in izuku. but you, you had no such obligation, no previous ties or relationship with him to maintain, no reason to butter him up or flatter him or say meaningless things.
izuku thinks of you, sitting on that bench at the beach, the calculating way you’d looked at him and said, completely confident in your words, “you’ll catch up.” he had hoped you were right, that even if he had to work harder than everyone else, he would be able to catch up. but in that moment, holding the ball on the dusty pitch, something clicks in the whirring of his mind: he has to make you right. for the first time in his life, someone believes in him, and instead of having someone to prove wrong, someone to defy, he has someone to prove right.
he was right to choose the ball throw. he was right to watch how the rest of his classmates used their quirks creatively, and even if his is new and uncontrollable and dangerous, he can use it just as creatively. he remembers the way you explained your quirk - your body as a physical conduit.
izuku throws the ball and releases the entirety of one for all through his finger at the last second. his vision blurs as the bones in his finger shatter, but he breathes through it as best he can, grinning madly, shoving his fist against his shirt in a weak attempt at pressure.
he’s shaking as he turns toward aizawa-sensei, and you, hovering just behind him, “i’m still standing, i can still fight,” he grits out, and he watches the barely perceptible nod you give him. aizawa-sensei ducks his face down into his capture weapon and izuku sees your mouth twitch in a suppressed smile. he smiles so hard that it hurts, even as his finger swells, purple and blue with bruises, pulsing pain in a sharp, terrible way. he can barely see you through his tears of both pain and relief, but he smiles.
“705.3 meters,” aizawa-sensei reads, and izuku wipes his eyes with his good hand just in time to see kacchan lunge for him.
but kacchan stops a couple meters away. aizawa-sensei’s capture weapon is wrapped around kacchan’s head and body, keeping him restrained, although he’s still shouting.
“stop using your quirk. i’m getting dry eye.” aizawa-sensei huffs and drags kacchan back toward him. you’re standing nearby, like before, and you look just as vicious as that day outside the exam hall.
“we’re moving on to the next events. stop wasting time.” aizawa releases kacchan, and izuku breathes as best he can. he still has the endurance run, sit ups, and toe-touch to get through.
—
the endurance run has always been your favorite, mostly because of the mental component, and because it was your favorite part of training on the weekdays, which you spent at your family’s house. it was always nice to get out of the house and run along the streets before your parents were awake, a peaceful and quiet moment to yourself.
this is anything but peaceful and quiet. yes, it’s an endurance run, but what it really is is a longer race.
you’re running in a dead sprint, neck-in-neck with iida. he’s taking strides as long as he can, pushing harder and harder to keep his pace and to pull ahead of you. you’re grasping at every bit of sunlight and ambient heat and noise that you can, even the noise of tennis shoes on the track, fueling yourself with your quirk and hurtling forward.
the finish line approaches. your feet are pounding the track, chest heaving, and iida is tearing along next to you. you cross the line and keep running, both of you going too fast to slow down, and as you taper off into jogging, you hear the machine chirp out your times.
they are the same.
iida slows to a walk. you do too. you turn backwards to watch the others race. he mimicks you.
yaoyorozu, the woman who sits behind you in class, has crossed the line on the motorcycle she used in the first event. midoriya is in the middle of the pack, looking a bit worse for wear. his hand is clearly bothering him, as is the idea of being expelled.
iida’s exhausted, resigned sigh makes you look at him. “[last name]-san… i do not think anyone outside the iida family has ever tied with me or beaten me in a foot race.”
“i’m glad to have someone to race against,” you say, unsure of how to respond. you stop to stretch.
“indeed.”
—
izuku’s stomach twists as he stands in a crowd of his classmates, waiting for the results. there’s nothing particularly notable about any of his records, except the ball throw. he runs over them all again, just in case he forgot something that could save him. there’s nothing to find. the ground sways underneath him.
you appear at his side, apparently a magnet for his anxious mumbling. “midoriya,” you say, cold and quiet, and he feels the ground still. “if you’re worried about being expelled, don’t.”
it’s simple, offers zero explanation, and is weirdly cryptic. it still makes his stomach flip a little less violently.
“here are the scores.” aizawa-sensei flicks upward on his phone and projects the rankings.
izuku starts at the top of the list (in doing so, he realizes how optimistic that seems, and how that will let him down in the gentlest way possible). your name is at the top, tied with a “yaoyorozu momo,” who he thinks is the woman who did the endurance run on a lightweight motorbike.
he skims down the rest of the names, over a “todoroki shoto,” kacchan, iida, but that’s as far as he gets before aizawa-sensei says something.
“the lowest scoring student will not be expelled.”
izuku’s heart drops out of his goddamn chest in relief, straight through his ribs and into the ground.
“what?!”someone shrieks.
aizawa-sensei grins like a cheshire cat, and it is not comforting. “it was a logical ruse.”
“i’m starting from the bottom,” izuku murmurs to himself.
“the bottom of the top,” you reply. “you worked hard to get here. keep working hard so you can stay.”
—
after a trip to recovery girl’s office, izuku returns to the classroom. aizawa-sensei is napping in the front in his yellow sleeping bag. there are syllabi and various course documents on everyone’s desks, but at least five students are clustered in the back of the class, around yours and yaoyorozu’s desks.
he sits down to look at the syllabi, but he’s instantly distracted by the topic of conversation behind him: quirks.
“i can make anything non-living, as long as i know the chemical formulas and have enough lipids,” yaoyorozu explains.
“and what about you, [last name]-san? you kept up with pretty much everyone. do you have a strength quirk or something?” the question comes from a floating uniform – hagakure, izuku reminds himself.
he expects you to explain the basics, if not the details of your quirk. but you’re silent as you cast your gaze over the group of students, and you shake your head a bit when you make eye contact with izuku. he gets the message: don’t say anything. “my quirk is similar to yaoyorozu’s in that it’s an all-purpose type of thing. other than that, you don’t need to know anything right now. i will explain it in the future if necessary.”
his heart stops; he’s never been part of a secret before in his life. and this is a secret that’s special in a different way entirely. you’d told him all about your quirk, no resistance at all, handing over every bit of information he’d asked for. but here you are, refusing to tell your classmates anything, even though it would be beneficial for future training exercises.
izuku doesn’t like being selfish. he thinks it’s wrong. but he watches you snap at a blonde student with a lightning bolt in his hair (kaminari denki, his mind supplies) when he keeps pushing for information on your quirk. he watches your classmates guess your quirk, watches you batting them around like a cat with a mouse in its paws. your responses are short and clipped, ice cold, closed off. he realizes that he’s the only one being included here, the only one you bother to treat just a little more gently, openly, and his head spins. he is your exception in that moment, and he’s deliriously happy with that revelation.
izuku doesn’t like being selfish, but all his life he’s been the one excluded, never the exception to the rule, always the example; he thinks he might be okay with being selfish about you.
reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!! ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* main taglist here,series taglisthere. back to gt&h masterpost.
specific tw: anxiety, overthinking. see masterpostfor genre + general tw.
notes: sure, everyone reading this knows you got into UA - but do you know you got into UA?
you’re laying on your back on top of your quilt, earbuds in and one of the cats sitting on your stomach while you pet her. she’s your favorite cat, azuki, a birman with grey and white coloring. her job, and the music’s job, is to crush the anxiety bubbling in your chest.
the UA exam was easy, even the practical. you have no reason to worry about getting in, and even if you did have reason to worry, you could easily get into shiketsu or some other university. but that competitive drive stabs at you, demands that you go to the top school, and anxiety crinkles like bubble wrap.
you stomp on it, and every single bubble pops, leaving you flat and apathetic. you haul azuki further up so that she can curl up next to your head. your whole body itches with the need to do something, anything.train, run, talk, kick something, anything. but you’re going to lie there and ignorethat nervousness if it kills you. there’s nothing to do but wait, and you’ll be damned if you let this stupid, irrational fear run your life.
there’s a gentle knock on your door, so gentle that you almost think it’s just part of the track you’re listening to. you sit up sowly. the cat jumps off the bed and walks toward the door to rub her chin on yamada’s pajama pants; he’s standing half in the room, half behind the door. azuki purrs loudly and smashes her face into his shin.
“hey, can i come in?” he’s holding a letter. your stomach jams itself against your lungs.
you nod and take your earbuds out. yamada sits on the edge of your bed.
“is aizawa home yet?” you ask. he might want to be here to watch you open it.
yamada laughs, hoarse and booming, a little wheezy. he spends all day yelling. “yes,” he says, looking smug. “he’s sitting in the kitchen, stress-drinking coffee. he won’t admit it, but he’s scared of both possibilities.” he hands you the letter. “why don’t you open it and put him out of his misery.”
the front of the letter is addressed to you, the back embossed with the UA logo. you slip a finger under the edge of the envelope and begin prying it open. your hands shake so badly that you can’t rip it open cleanly, and the top edge ends up a mangled mess of paper. “i couldn’t put him out of his misery if i tried.”
yamada just nods.
there’s a projection disc inside the envelope. couldn’t they just send a letter? you shake your head and put the disc down on the comforter, careful to leave it upside down so it doesn’t accidentally start playing. you stare at it. your skin buzzes with impatience.
“you know shota will be proud of you, we’ll be proud of you, no matter the result, right?” yamada says. you can’t see his expression, unwilling to look up, but you know it must be horrifyingly forgiving.
your head spins as you pick the disc up, anger and anxiety wrestling in the eye of your hurricane mind. the pride yamada has in you makes something inside you rage and thrash, desperate, fighting against a lull, like a predator just before a tranquilizer dart takes effect.
you nod.
“do you want me to stay?”
the brief, impossible scenario of bursting into tears in front of yamada flashes into your mind. it won’t happen for a multitude of reasons, but it’s enough to put you off the idea of another person in the room. “no, it’s okay. you can go worry with aizawa.”
he snorts. “okay, kiddo. i’ll go worry with him. not that i’m worried, i know you’re going to get in, i just… let us know when you’re ready.” he rests his hand on your shoulder, and it’s so gentle and so yamada that it actually soothes you.
the anxiety fizzing underneath your skin dissipates, just for a second. “alright. i’ll let you know.”
azuki follows him to the door, yowling. he scoops her up. “i’ll take her with me. she’ll make shota feel a little better.” he shuts the door behind him.
you flip the disc over, and a projection comes to life above it.
all might comes into the frame and announces that he’s teaching at UA. the exact words skim over the surface of your mind as you will the video to progress faster, to just get to the results so you can have some goddamn peace of mind.
“with fifty-five villain points and thirty-five rescue points, not to mention a nearly perfect score on the written exam, you’re a shoe-in for UA, young [last name]!” all might booms, giving you an aggressive thumbs up. “welcome to your hero academia!”
the projection narrows to a thin black line and disappears. elation flits through your veins and leaves you to flatline on something empty. you know competition will jumpstart your heart later, anyways. you stare at the wall of your room, a few feet from the end of your bed.
numbers float through your mind. fifty-five. thirty-five. ninety points. scores are never disclosed to the public, so they’re meaningless without comparison. you can only assume that the shoe-in comment means you’re above the median score. good enough to get in, and good enough to be above the median, but nebulous, hanging somewhere between the top and the middle, and abstract and pointless in the face of real combat, real rescue situations, real villains, real quirk use. enough to get in, but not enough to matter.
your phone buzzes next to you on the quilt, startling you out of your reverie. midoriya’s contact pops up on the screen. your fingers hover over the accept call button.
you’d met him earlier, at the beginning of the week, and after that you’d occasionally texted, speculating about the exam or discussing the latest villain fight from the news. but you hadn’t called, and phone calls are much harder to escape than texting conversations. you can’t just leave whenever you want to, and your responses have to be more immediate. you’re running out of time, you realize, watching your phone shift a little on the quilt as it rings.
you put your earbuds back in and accept the call.
“hi, midoriya,” you edge in as soon as you hear the call connect, knowing he’s going to start talking the instant you pick up.
“hi [last name]!” you hear him take a deep breath, and you know he’s about to talk as fast as he can. “i already told my mom this but i wasn’t sure who else to call because i don’t really have anyone else to tell except my mentor? but i’llsee my mentor later so it would be redundant to call him, and i shouldn’t call kacchan about this since he’ll be angry enough as it is when he finds out through the school, so i called you, since you’re the only other person i talk to and who i think should know about this.”
the world passes around you like you’re in a bullet train, blurring fast and meaningless, distracting you from what he’s saying. “what is it you wanted to tell me?” you take a shot in the dark and hope that it’s accurate enough to keep the conversation on the rails.
“yes, right! uh, anyways, i… did you get your UA results yet? i don’t want to tell you this if you haven’t opened your results yet!” he must be practically vibrating with excitement.
you huff, a soft, barely there laugh. “yeah, i just opened them. i think we all get them at around the same time.”
“okay, okay so!” his voice gets thick, like he’s talking around the urge to cry. you hear him sniff. “i, i did it! i got in!” he laughs a little hysterically. you’re sure he’s openly sobbing, hand clapped over his mouth. “you were right, well sort of, there were points for rescuing that nice lady from the zero pointer, so you were right that i had a chance, just not right that points didn’t matter.”
“i was right, ultimately,” you push.
“and i was right to be hopeful,” he pushes back. you can practically see the determined gleam in his eye.
you play with the edge of the quilt in your lap. “what course?”
“i’m in the hero course, [last name], the hero course. and all might is going to be teaching us. all might.”
“us?” you say slowly, “isn’t that a little presumptive? what if i didn’t get in?” the corner of your mouth tugs up, and alone in your room, you still force it back down, just out of habit. just in case leniency now means leniency later.
midoriya stutters on the other end of the phone. “i– you– what? you had to have gotten in! i saw you taking down those robots – the ones at the beginning should’ve been enough on their own, but then i saw some other ones near the end and you should have some points from helping rescue that nice person from the zero pointer. there’s no way you didn’t get it. unless you’re right and points don’t matter and they just decided to let me in for some other reason? maybe because of my mentor? and the points were all a ruse? maybe–”
a laugh bubbles up in your throat. you barely manage to suppress it. “midoriya,” you cut him off.
“yes?”
“i was joking.”
“oh… oh, well thank goodness because i don’t know anyone else except kacchan in the hero course, and i didn’t want to be all by myself, and maybe you don’t either – not that i’m saying you don’t have friends or–”
“midoriya.”
he hums, voice pitching with nervousness.
“it’s fine,” you continue, “and i’m in 1-A. are you in A or B?”
“that’s great! that’s amazing! i’m in 1-A too! i’m going to have so soso much catching up to do but that’s okay, that’s perfectly fine because i did it! we did it! we’re going to UA!”
you have catching up to do, untold amounts of it, considering you’ve never met your other classmates. and considering midoriya will probably accelerate to the top of the class at light speed.
the thought of classes and work spills over into your earlier discussion with midoriya about mentors, and you remember that aizawa and yamada are waiting in the kitchen, probably ridiculously concerned because you’ve been sitting in your room for so long.
“i should probably go, i have a few other people to call about the acceptance.” you fumble for a way out of the conversation after midoriya’s inspiring mini-speech.
“yes, right! go do that.” he sounds so bright and clear, even over the phone.
“i’ll see you in class,” you say, lowly enough that you’re not sure he’ll hear. you’re not sure why you say it, either.
“alright, yeah, i’ll see you then. bye?”
“bye, midoriya.”
“bye!”
you hang up before the awkward chain of goodbyes can continue, and sit there in your pajamas, phone held loosely in your hand, projection disk in your lap, quilt pooling around you. the world spins lightly, only inside your head. the room is still. the hurricane in your mind is not, propelled onward by some unseen force. the air is cool and dry; you shut your eyes against it, against something.
you take a deep breath and haul yourself out of bed.
the wooden floor is cool and smooth, grounding as you stand there, willing yourself forward, something about the idea of your acceptance to UA being acknowledged holding you back. like petting the spine of a cat the wrong way, or hugging someone you despise, a special form of discomfort that makes you angry first and uncomfortable later.
you dig your nails into your hand and plow forward, opening the door and walking down the hallway to the kitchen. aizawa is sitting at the kitchen counter, surrounded by three different coffee mugs, and yamada is perched on a stool next to him, hand on his arm. words ball up behind your tongue, different ways to announce your acceptance. a thought tumbles out like the first spray of snow in an avalanche.
“have fun dealing with me in class.”
yamada, in his typical emotional manner, jumps up and runs to hug you. “i always knew you could do it,” he says, hugging you tighter, and it doesn’t make you angry or uncomfortable. it never has, no matter how afraid you were that it might begin to one day. yamada and aizawa have never been the people to make you angry.
“you will be more tolerable than the other students, most likely. and don’t make me expel you. expelling and subsequently re-enrolling my own student would be illogical and embarrassing.”
yamada lets go of you and returns to his seat next to aizawa. you sit down at the end of the counter.
“i won’t disappoint you,” you say, looking aizawa dead in the eyes.
he sips his coffee, and you get the feeling he’s hiding a smile behind the rim of his cup. “i never thought you would.”
—
izuku is standing in the subway car – he gave his seat to an elderly woman, she needed it much more than he did – when he sees you board at a stop near UA. you’re blank-faced with your earbuds in, just like the last time he saw you at the subway station near his apartment.
he hopes you’ll see him and come stand with him, a little fluttering thing in his chest, wishing for a friend. you walk further into the car, hands in your pockets, unhurried even as the subway pulls away from the stop and begins to move. you’re looking down just enough to avoid the gaze of most people in the car without seeming shy. he sees you pause a few seats away from him, gaze locked on the ground near him. and then, in a heart-stopping, anxiety-inducing moment where he wonders if his wishing actually worked and he has some obscure quirk he only now activated the condition for, you approach him, eyes flat and expressionless, but addressing him.
“i recognized your shoes.” you grab the ceiling handle next to the one he’s holding and take one earbud out.
izuku feels a blush spread under his freckles at the comment. he is suddenly hyper aware of his shoes. “yes, uh, they’re… distinctive?”
he watches the way you smile, if it can be called that. it’s faint and could easily be mistaken for the natural position of someone’s mouth, a slight upturn, if he hadn’t seen the flat, even slight frown, to your face when you weren’t paying attention to anything in particular. he desperately hopes that your smile is not a cruel one.
you raise an eyebrow at him after a moment. maybe your smile was cruel?
“your tie is tied wrong.” the way you say it makes it sound like a fact, but not like an insult. he suspends judgement on your smile. it’s something he can figure out later. his hyper awareness switches from his shoes to his tie.
“yeah, i don’t really know how to tie it? i never learned because my high school uniform didn’t have a tie, and neither did my middle school one. i tried googling it but it was kind of difficult to figure out? i’m not the best with spatial awareness and geometry, so i tied it kind of messily…” izuku touches the back of his neck, and his hyper awareness switches to that instead, knowing that you know that it’s a self-soothing gesture, meant to smooth out his fraying nerves. it has the opposite effect and he can feel the way his mind tailspins into a feedback loop of his own behavior, out of control and swerving wildly inside his head.
his eyes refocus on you when you step closer to him. he almost stumbles back in surprise, but catches himself with the ceiling handle.
“i’ll fix it,” you mutter, shrugging, hands already on his tie. izuku is pretty sure his entire body goes bright red at your close proximity – although that would happen from being that close to any person, contact has always flustered him and he assures himself that it’s just the nerves from his first day that are making him like this. but he’s self-aware enough to know that that assurance is only a half-truth, and that he wants to impress you, to be your friend, and he’s been down this path before and he can only hope this one ends in a better place than it previously did.
the wormhole of his thoughts spits him back out in the real world, with you smoothing his tie down after fixing it. “thanks,” he chokes out, incredibly grateful when his – and your – subway stop arrives and the train comes to a halt – he can take the time of walking off the subway to process what just happened.
except he doesn’t get that time, because you pull both of your earbuds out, coil them around your fingers, stuff them into the pocket of your blazer, and say “let’s go,” which just leaves him speed walking after you.
you walk so fast that he worries you’re both late, but according to the time on his phone, you both still have twenty minutes before you even need to be in the classroom.
“do you know anyone in 1-A?” you ask him, staring straight ahead as you pass through UA’s gates.
thirty-six students, four recommendations, split in half, twenty people in 1-A. he hopes he knows only you, because everyone else at the exam – except maybe the nice woman with the gravity quirk – terrified him. “no, i don’t think so.”
“me neither.” except me, they know me? but that was probably implied…
you start up the stairs. there’s a ridiculous amount of flights, and he’s terribly glad that he’s much more in shape now than he was at the beginning of the summer. you’re still speed walking – stepping? – up the stairs, and it would’ve been embarrassing to fall behind or struggle to keep up.
izuku stands in the stairwell and stares down the long hallway of the floor classroom 1-A is on. his hands sweat.
your voice breaks through the cloud of anxiety forming in his mind like the beacon of a lighthouse. “it’s good that you don’t know any of them. there’ll be plenty of new quirks for you to take notes on.”
as soon as you’re done talking, you’re already walking towards the classroom entrance. izuku scrambles after you and manages to fall into step as you reach the door. it’s extremely tall and wide – probably to accommodate students and teachers with quirks that make them bigger in some way, like wings or a tail or a quirk like fat gum’s. you slide it open.
he stands next to you in the doorway, eyes flickering over the different students. kacchan. the scary fast guy from the exam. the nice gravity girl.
izuku looks back at the whole room and sees every student staring at both of you. the fast guy with glasses approaches and he blanks, mouth dry, fingers shaking.
“i’m iida tenya. i attended somei private academy. please do not sit with your feet on the desk like bakugo-kun is doing, it is disrespectful.” he makes a sharp, downward sweeping motion with his arm, hand parallel to the ground, and it’s sudden enough to startle izuku into talking.
“i’m– ah, i’m midoriya izuku. pleased to meet you, iida-kun.” he feels like he’s running down a hill too fast, feet milliseconds from tangling and sending him sprawling.
“i’m [last name] [first name].” the lack of pleasantries makes izuku feel like his throat is closing a little bit from the potential confrontation. then he remembers that you don’t use an honorific for him, and his throat closes a little more, thousands of reasons dancing in his head.
iida pushes his glasses up and stares izuku down. well, the space between you and izuku. “i… midoriya-kun, [last name]-san. both of you understood the practical exam far better than i did. you understood its true purpose and test. it does not please me to admit this, but you were both superior candidates to me.” he sighs, “midoriya-kun, you especially i would like to apologize to. i believe i was rather rude to you at the exam instruction seminar. i misjudged you.”
izuku is pretty sure his jaw is on the floor. he tries to explain, but the words won’t fit right in his mouth, “i– didn’t? the exam was just? iida-kun i– i didn’t, i’m not superior–”
“midoriya,” you butt in. “take the compliment. and sit down. sensei will be here soon, and it’s best that everyone is in their seats when that happens.”
izuku refocuses on the rest of the class, searching for his seat, and realizes that every student is watching the exchange between you, him, and iida. most of them hurriedly sit down at your comment, suddenly aware that they are in a classroom and that they want to make a good impression on their professor.
he hears you huff and sees you take a piece of paper out of your pocket, probably to check your seat number. you make your way toward the back of the room and sit down in seat nineteen, in front of a woman with glossy black hair in a high ponytail. izuku checks his seat number. eighteen. he sits down in front of you. kacchan is sitting directly in front of him. izuku fiddles with his tie.
a couple of students are still hanging out near the doorway when a yellow sleeping bag, with a person in it, flops down between them. the students jump in surprise, and one screeches.
the sleeping bag unzips slightly. izuku gapes; eraserhead is our homeroom professor.
“if you’re here to socialize, then get out. if you’re here to learn, get in your seats.”
the students scramble to sit down.
eraserhead stands up out of his sleeping bag and walks to the speaking podium, checking his watch. “only five seconds,” he mutters, and izuku can’t tell whether he’s looking at him, you, or the woman behind you. “still, time is a precious resource. you all will need to behave in a rational, efficient manner to get what needs to be done, done.”
kacchan scoffs lightly in front of him. eraserhead ignores him.
“i’m your home room professor, aizawa shota. pleased to meet you. don’t give me a reason to expel you, and don’t be late.” he surveys the classroom, but no one says anything in response. “change into your gym clothes. head out to the grounds. we’ll be conducting a test of sorts today.”
the class waits for him to continue, to explain the test. izuku’s mind buzzes with the possibilities, and with the reality that he is completely unprepared for this test, that he has no idea what it is, or how it will be scored, and that he is behind the others in every way possible.
the buzzing cuts off as he hears you stand up behind him, and then aizawa-sensei says something just after you do so. “what are you all waiting for? [last name]-san is already ahead of you.”
the entire class rushes to catch up.
reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!! ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* main taglist here,series taglisthere. back to gt&h masterpost.
Getting caught listening to Olivia Rodrigo’s new album
Anon asked: I hope we are on the same page and agree on that SOUR IS PAINFUL and I can’t stop laughing at the concept of the bnha boys reacting to yn singing something from there. Like they think it’s all cute and precious how beautifully you sing and then you almost sob at the lyrics lmao.
authors.note: I’ve been listening to her album non stop and it’s getting out of hand, the worst part is I’ve never been in love XD. This is a different format I hope you like it. Enjoy <3
SHOTO walks through the door of your shared apartment, his tie in one hand and suit jacket in the other. Music blared from the kitchen, a soft melodic tune ringing through the house as both yours and the singer’s voices blended into one harmonizing. He always loved coming home to you because in reality, this house wasn’t his home you were; you with your weird habits and spontaneous ice cream trips at 2 am. You and your smile that lit up his life, you and your voice that always managed to calm him even when both of you were in the middle of a villain attack fighting for your lives and those of others. He loved every piece of you and he was always thanking the universe for allowing him to love you. Closing his eyes he focused on your voice, easily distinguishing it from the singer’s. With your soft words going straight to his heart he completely ignored the lyrics until he was rudely brought back to earth by the song. “But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face….” Baffled, he entered the kitchen rushing over to you to wrap his arms around your waist, a pout evident on his lips. You kissed his temple, placing your hands over his and swaying from left to right. Shoto just held you tighter, burying his face in the crook of your neck and refusing to let go for the rest of the night.
KATSUKI sighed as he heard the loud sounds of your music coming from behind the apartment door. He loved you with all his heart, he truly did but if he had to listen to Doja Cat one more time… Evenings like these were always his favorites though, loud music and all. Weekend evenings when he comes home early, always finding you curled up on the couch, TV playing steadily on the news channel as you read your book. He knew you worried, you always did and you always will, he finds it endearing and cute, teasing you about it when he gets home each night. As much as he finds it cute it also brings guilt. He wants to give you the world, the sun and the stars, anything and everything you desire but he knows that no matter what his safety will always dominate your mind and he will always find you watching the news channel waiting to confirm his safety. You both fall in love hard. As he stepped into the living room he witnessed the small show you had going on; pjs consisting of his shirt and shorts, her wet with a comb in your hand as you sang along to this week’s favorite. “I’m so sick of 17 where’s my fucking teenage dream?” He laughed at that, grabbing your hips making you yelp in surprise as he steadied you on the couch. “You’re 22 you brat! Now get down before you hit the ceiling.”
IZUKU most of the time enters your home through the bedroom window like a burglar. He has no reason to do so apart from being able to. So, naturally, he usually scares you half to death when he suddenly appears seemingly out of nowhere. He loved doing that. He especially loved the process afterwards of how he will try to coax the pout off your face with kisses and hugs. It never lasts long, you give in too early but he enjoys the process. Making you smile is his one priority and he will step down as n.1 if he ever stopped. Music flooded the apartment, it wasn’t too loud just loud enough to hide his footsteps. You were swaying softly in the middle of the living room, eyes closed while you sang along. The song was sad, really sad and the singer’s voice made it 10x worse. Before he even realized he too had closed his eyes, back leaning on the wall behind him as he let your voice soothe him. He doesn’t know how long he had his eyes closed, all he knew was that the song was over and something more upbeat was playing and as he opened his eyes he came face to face with you, your own eyes a little glossy. Your nose was touching his and you sniffled a bit as you stared at him, pressing a small kiss on his cheek before wiping the unshed tears from your eyes. He had so many questions and he must’ve looked very confused because suddenly you burst out laughing. “This album is super sad, okay? I can’t help it!” Took a pic as blackmail.
EIJIROU had been listening to the same album all day long and tears had been shed. Bakugou had yelled at him during lunch break for tearing up at one of the songs. Now, Eijirou has never experienced heartbreak and he never wants to. You are his everything and if that day came when things between you had to end he doesn’t know what he’ll do. Hell, he doesn’t even want to remotely think about such a predicament. Now he is standing in your shared home’s entrance hall, keys still in hand as he can clearly hear you sob-singing along to the song that had made him cry this morning. At that moment, Eijirou was certain you two were soulmates. He always had a feeling but now he is certain. Taking off his shoes hastily and throwing his jacket on the hanger he sprinted into the living room just as the best part of the song started playing. “Don’t you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded?” Both of you sang at the top of your lungs tears rolling down your cheeks as you feel into each other’s arms, the breakup song continuing its course. Olivia Rodrigo 1 Perfectly happy couple 0.
The sun was shining through your curtains making the rays light up the room, by a little, by little.
You hid underneath your fluffy big blanket glaring at the window. With the sun shining outside, it felt like it was mocking your misery. The black circles around your eyes made you look like a raccoon. You cover your head once again and see the trash can filled with used tissues and empty tissue boxes.
Last night, You couldn’t stop crying all night but you didn’t make noise so you wouldn’t have your mom more worried than she already was, because of the noise of you flipping your room upside down out of frustration and the overwhelming shame holds within your heart.
Your mother has too much on her plate to worry about and you wouldn’t want to add more onto it. You are gonna get through this by yourself. You shattered the mirror in your room out of anger of just looking at your reflection.
You had slammed your bedroom door closed and throwing your backpack onto the ground with a loud grunt. You turn around to make eye contact with your reflection seeing your eyes are puffy red, with a trail of tears down your cheek down to the chin. Your lip split open, because of the fangirls fight.
You could feel the heavyweights on your chest. It was almost suffering. You knew what it was.
Guilt.
You were incredibly stupid believing you would never fall in love with Midoriya.
You deserve it.
‘Who are you are?!’ You angrily thought to yourself as you glaring down at your reflection, as your eyes wander to the taped photobooth stripe of you and Midoriya smiling out of happiness.
You lost him, because of you being a coward of not telling him.
Lifting your fist, strive forward feeling the pain on your knuckles with the mirror splits through the glass. You remove your hand before the glass shatters into pieces as they fall upon the ground. You wave your hand to relieve the pain on your knuckles, as you can feel the bruise happening underneath your skin. You are starting to regret punching the mirror, it was out of impulse.
You just feel ashamed of yourself. This isn’t you for keeping secrets with the people you trust.
Now, you look down on your bandaged up hand that you put ice on it once everyone fell asleep.
You are the biggest idiot to even accept that rich kid who is well known for playing dirty. You should have known better than to make deal with that dude. You recall the switch of events that you didn’t expect at the time.
The brown-haired boy leaning against the wall of the classroom with a stupid smirk on his lips looking down at you with pride.
“You didn’t think I would have some leverage over your head, once you started earning feelings for that boy. Huh.” He snickers seeing your face expression harden.
“You can imagine how precious the information about the famous All might has a daughter for the underground who want to hurt your old man.”
Your eyes widened as your blood runs cold, while his grin grew with malicious intent.
“OH! How exciting! So keep up the act, peasant.” He claps his hands together, before walking past you to only abruptly stop and turn his head to your ear. “Or else, you will be hurting the ones you love. This should be considered a threat.”
You grab his arm and glared at his eyes, shoved the envelope into his U.A jacket chest pocket. “Keep the damn check, then. I rather pay the hospital bill with my own damn money and stay with debt.” You spit the words from your lips and walking away with your hands curling into a fist.
You remember that day so clearly when you wanted to back out, but that bastard threatens you to keep your mouth shut or risk it all in other words.
You still couldn’t figure out how did he manage to figure it out. The only people who know is your mother, and Midoriya family, which you highly doubt it was the case.
Perhaps it was when you were hanging with Class A too much, but it can’t be it. You mostly spent your time there to give other advice on how to improve your costumes and fixing minor errors on Midoriya’s new equipment that he was testing out.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Do you want some food or something? Mom is asking from downstairs.” Your little sister popping her head in your room, before her eyes widen at the horror of your so-called room.
The destruction of your room is horrifying to your sister due to the flipped table, chair, and papers mixed with blueprints laying on the ground.
You pop your head out a little to reveal your raccoon eyes. “No, thanks. Now get out!”
Your sister closes the door behind her with a slam, as a scream happens behind your closed door. “MOM! [NAME] IS GOING NUTS!”
You just rolled your eyes at your sister being dramatic and returning to your haven for the moment so you can cry and think about your horrible actions that lead you to be here. You are thankful that its the weekend, so you don’t have to step in the U.A Academy property until, the incoming week.
You just know you are gonna receive hell at school, which you deserve.
You just dig a hole and bury yourself inside of it.
The guilt and sadness are eating you alive.
You already felt guilty of lying to Midoriya of the reason why you asked him in the first place earlier the week.
You could have told him the truth, but no. You continued to lie.
Midoriya was laying on top of you as you were in your pajamas with his head laying on your chest and his arm was wrapped around you. You were running your fingers through his hair. Your nails scratching his scalp almost leading him to fall asleep.
It felt like a protective blanket whenever he wraps his arm around you. It is an unknown feeling.
A movie was behind played in the background from your laptop. It was completely being ignored.
A few actions figures of the famous number one Hero, All Might be knocked over on the ground. The two of you find yourselves locking lips. Midoriya was hovering you using one hand to keep his weight off you as best of possible while cupping your cheek. You had your arm around his neck to keep him from moving away. You were slightly pulling on his hair as your lips moved in sync with his.
However, your make-out session with your boyfriend was cut short due to surprise visits from his classmates. It was Ojirou came over knocking on his door to borrow his notes for something.
The moment when his door was being knocked softly, the memory would stay in your brain of the look of horror reaction. Similar to a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
He immediately fell out of the bed with more messy hair than usual with a stutter. “H-hold on an s-sec-ond.”
He had forgotten that he was coming over to his door to get the notes from class. He wipes off the extra saliva from his lips.
You stood up from the bed and hide behind the door when it opens. You weren’t supposed to be in his dorm and especially on the boy’s side. However, you have sneaked in so many times that it doesn’t worry you much. Midoriya would cover you if you accidentally make a noise when you are exiting the dorm building.
He hastily grabbed the notebook from his desk waiting for Oijirou to arrive and opens the door. Oijirou grabbing on his notebook and noticing how flustered Midoriya was. He couldn’t help but ask out of concern.
“Are you alright? Midoriya.”
You had to cover your mouth at how jumpy Midoriya is. He stutters over his words and tried to act not so suspicious which is failing miserably. It was just too hilarious to watch and hear how he was behaving. You don’t exactly know how the rest of the conversation went since you were too busy trying to stop yourself from laughing at the terrible acting of Midoriya put on. He was a terrible liar.
He closes the door and puts his back on the door leaning his head back, sighing in relief.
“You suck at acting.” You whispered to him and grabbing his hand, soon earning a small whine from him.
You pulled him over to the bed and pecking his cheek as an apology, before getting in position to cuddle. Your fingers running through his bushy green hair, as Midoriya had his eyes closed and listening to your heartbeat.
“[Nickname.]” You hum as response and trying to curl his hair around your finger.
“Why did you ask me out? When you could have asked anyone else, why me?” He asks softly, as he rolls over to the side and looks at you with his innocent dark green eyes.
You gulped nervously and turn on your side to make eye contact.
‘Should I tell him?’
You open your mouth as the words just flow out. “Izu. One, you are super passionate about being a hero and do not give up when obstacles come up. Two, You wouldn’t love your dorky self when it comes to heroes.” Your lips curl up into a smile, lifting your hand to boop his nose. Midoriya faces expression fill with pure surprise.
“Who wouldn’t fall for your charm of just being yourself, regardless of how they treat you, freckles.” You traced over his freckles in a pentagon shape, it was enough to make him glowing bright red.
He flips over to cover his face into the pillow, making you laugh at him being all shy and embarrassed. He was fuming smoke from his ear. You just hug him from behind to try to make up your teasing.
‘You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the truth. Especially the way he was looking at you was filled with trust.’
You have to give him space for him to think about it. He deserves it. You had hurt him deeply and had seen how much it is affecting him.
But you have to pick yourself together and clean up the mess in your room before the week starts knowing it will be hell.
You gotta move forward for your good, and family even if you burden with the weight of guilt.
You could distract yourself by creating new blueprints of inventions for the incoming event where all of the support students show off their skills similar to the sports festival. Its the day where all kinds of heroes including firefighters to the police department are gonna be scouting out future employees for their companies.
You couldn’t use something that would you would need…. him. You had to do those ideas in the backburn of your head at the moment.
It would probably be hard to get someone to agree to be a model of your invention since it’s so late in the year along with rumors spreading around you. The chances are very low.
You would be known as terrible things which include the most you would be an excuse for being a gold digger.
But you have to make do.
You can’t continue to self-pitying yourself for the sake of your family not to worry about you.
You have to worry about what your potential future holds in your employment after graduating. Everything relies on your project for the Invention Event to hold your future. It has been something better of everything you had created so far to stand out from your classmates.
Slowly enough, Midoriya fades to the back of your mind. As you start drafting out ideas what could be your project.
_______________________________
I would love to hear any predictions or theories, you guys have!
Feedback is appreciated!
Please be kind within the comments. I hope you are enjoying the story. Sorry for any spelling or grammar errors.
if anyone wishes to be tagged, either send me an ask or comment below this post! Taglist will be in the comments.
The sun was shining through your curtains making the rays light up the room, by a little, by little.
You hid underneath your fluffy big blanket glaring at the window. With the sun shining outside, it felt like it was mocking your misery. The black circles around your eyes made you look like a raccoon. You cover your head once again and see the trash can filled with used tissues and empty tissue boxes.
Last night, You couldn’t stop crying all night but you didn’t make noise so you wouldn’t have your mom more worried than she already was, because of the noise of you flipping your room upside down out of frustration and the overwhelming shame holds within your heart.
Your mother has too much on her plate to worry about and you wouldn’t want to add more onto it. You are gonna get through this by yourself. You shattered the mirror in your room out of anger of just looking at your reflection.
You had slammed your bedroom door closed and throwing your backpack onto the ground with a loud grunt. You turn around to make eye contact with your reflection seeing your eyes are puffy red, with a trail of tears down your cheek down to the chin. Your lip split open, because of the fangirls fight.
You could feel the heavyweights on your chest. It was almost suffering. You knew what it was.
Guilt.
You were incredibly stupid believing you would never fall in love with Midoriya.
You deserve it.
‘Who are you are?!’ You angrily thought to yourself as you glaring down at your reflection, as your eyes wander to the taped photobooth stripe of you and Midoriya smiling out of happiness.
You lost him, because of you being a coward of not telling him.
Lifting your fist, strive forward feeling the pain on your knuckles with the mirror splits through the glass. You remove your hand before the glass shatters into pieces as they fall upon the ground. You wave your hand to relieve the pain on your knuckles, as you can feel the bruise happening underneath your skin. You are starting to regret punching the mirror, it was out of impulse.
You just feel ashamed of yourself. This isn’t you for keeping secrets with the people you trust.
Now, you look down on your bandaged up hand that you put ice on it once everyone fell asleep.
You are the biggest idiot to even accept that rich kid who is well known for playing dirty. You should have known better than to make deal with that dude. You recall the switch of events that you didn’t expect at the time.
The brown-haired boy leaning against the wall of the classroom with a stupid smirk on his lips looking down at you with pride.
“You didn’t think I would have some leverage over your head, once you started earning feelings for that boy. Huh.” He snickers seeing your face expression harden.
“You can imagine how precious the information about the famous All might has a daughter for the underground who want to hurt your old man.”
Your eyes widened as your blood runs cold, while his grin grew with malicious intent.
“OH! How exciting! So keep up the act, peasant.” He claps his hands together, before walking past you to only abruptly stop and turn his head to your ear. “Or else, you will be hurting the ones you love. This should be considered a threat.”
You grab his arm and glared at his eyes, shoved the envelope into his U.A jacket chest pocket. “Keep the damn check, then. I rather pay the hospital bill with my own damn money and stay with debt.” You spit the words from your lips and walking away with your hands curling into a fist.
You remember that day so clearly when you wanted to back out, but that bastard threatens you to keep your mouth shut or risk it all in other words.
You still couldn’t figure out how did he manage to figure it out. The only people who know is your mother, and Midoriya family, which you highly doubt it was the case.
Perhaps it was when you were hanging with Class A too much, but it can’t be it. You mostly spent your time there to give other advice on how to improve your costumes and fixing minor errors on Midoriya’s new equipment that he was testing out.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Do you want some food or something? Mom is asking from downstairs.” Your little sister popping her head in your room, before her eyes widen at the horror of your so-called room.
The destruction of your room is horrifying to your sister due to the flipped table, chair, and papers mixed with blueprints laying on the ground.
You pop your head out a little to reveal your raccoon eyes. “No, thanks. Now get out!”
Your sister closes the door behind her with a slam, as a scream happens behind your closed door. “MOM! [NAME] IS GOING NUTS!”
You just rolled your eyes at your sister being dramatic and returning to your haven for the moment so you can cry and think about your horrible actions that lead you to be here. You are thankful that its the weekend, so you don’t have to step in the U.A Academy property until, the incoming week.
You just know you are gonna receive hell at school, which you deserve.
You just dig a hole and bury yourself inside of it.
The guilt and sadness are eating you alive.
You already felt guilty of lying to Midoriya of the reason why you asked him in the first place earlier the week.
You could have told him the truth, but no. You continued to lie.
Midoriya was laying on top of you as you were in your pajamas with his head laying on your chest and his arm was wrapped around you. You were running your fingers through his hair. Your nails scratching his scalp almost leading him to fall asleep.
It felt like a protective blanket whenever he wraps his arm around you. It is an unknown feeling.
A movie was behind played in the background from your laptop. It was completely being ignored.
A few actions figures of the famous number one Hero, All Might be knocked over on the ground. The two of you find yourselves locking lips. Midoriya was hovering you using one hand to keep his weight off you as best of possible while cupping your cheek. You had your arm around his neck to keep him from moving away. You were slightly pulling on his hair as your lips moved in sync with his.
However, your make-out session with your boyfriend was cut short due to surprise visits from his classmates. It was Ojirou came over knocking on his door to borrow his notes for something.
The moment when his door was being knocked softly, the memory would stay in your brain of the look of horror reaction. Similar to a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
He immediately fell out of the bed with more messy hair than usual with a stutter. “H-hold on an s-sec-ond.”
He had forgotten that he was coming over to his door to get the notes from class. He wipes off the extra saliva from his lips.
You stood up from the bed and hide behind the door when it opens. You weren’t supposed to be in his dorm and especially on the boy’s side. However, you have sneaked in so many times that it doesn’t worry you much. Midoriya would cover you if you accidentally make a noise when you are exiting the dorm building.
He hastily grabbed the notebook from his desk waiting for Oijirou to arrive and opens the door. Oijirou grabbing on his notebook and noticing how flustered Midoriya was. He couldn’t help but ask out of concern.
“Are you alright? Midoriya.”
You had to cover your mouth at how jumpy Midoriya is. He stutters over his words and tried to act not so suspicious which is failing miserably. It was just too hilarious to watch and hear how he was behaving. You don’t exactly know how the rest of the conversation went since you were too busy trying to stop yourself from laughing at the terrible acting of Midoriya put on. He was a terrible liar.
He closes the door and puts his back on the door leaning his head back, sighing in relief.
“You suck at acting.” You whispered to him and grabbing his hand, soon earning a small whine from him.
You pulled him over to the bed and pecking his cheek as an apology, before getting in position to cuddle. Your fingers running through his bushy green hair, as Midoriya had his eyes closed and listening to your heartbeat.
“[Nickname.]” You hum as response and trying to curl his hair around your finger.
“Why did you ask me out? When you could have asked anyone else, why me?” He asks softly, as he rolls over to the side and looks at you with his innocent dark green eyes.
You gulped nervously and turn on your side to make eye contact.
‘Should I tell him?’
You open your mouth as the words just flow out. “Izu. One, you are super passionate about being a hero and do not give up when obstacles come up. Two, You wouldn’t love your dorky self when it comes to heroes.” Your lips curl up into a smile, lifting your hand to boop his nose. Midoriya faces expression fill with pure surprise.
“Who wouldn’t fall for your charm of just being yourself, regardless of how they treat you, freckles.” You traced over his freckles in a pentagon shape, it was enough to make him glowing bright red.
He flips over to cover his face into the pillow, making you laugh at him being all shy and embarrassed. He was fuming smoke from his ear. You just hug him from behind to try to make up your teasing.
‘You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the truth. Especially the way he was looking at you was filled with trust.’
You have to give him space for him to think about it. He deserves it. You had hurt him deeply and had seen how much it is affecting him.
But you have to pick yourself together and clean up the mess in your room before the week starts knowing it will be hell.
You gotta move forward for your good, and family even if you burden with the weight of guilt.
You could distract yourself by creating new blueprints of inventions for the incoming event where all of the support students show off their skills similar to the sports festival. Its the day where all kinds of heroes including firefighters to the police department are gonna be scouting out future employees for their companies.
You couldn’t use something that would you would need…. him. You had to do those ideas in the backburn of your head at the moment.
It would probably be hard to get someone to agree to be a model of your invention since it’s so late in the year along with rumors spreading around you. The chances are very low.
You would be known as terrible things which include the most you would be an excuse for being a gold digger.
But you have to make do.
You can’t continue to self-pitying yourself for the sake of your family not to worry about you.
You have to worry about what your potential future holds in your employment after graduating. Everything relies on your project for the Invention Event to hold your future. It has been something better of everything you had created so far to stand out from your classmates.
Slowly enough, Midoriya fades to the back of your mind. As you start drafting out ideas what could be your project.
_______________________________
I would love to hear any predictions or theories, you guys have!
Feedback is appreciated!
Please be kind within the comments. I hope you are enjoying the story. Sorry for any spelling or grammar errors.
if anyone wishes to be tagged, either send me an ask or comment below this post! Taglist will be in the comments.
You could feel the day going painfully slow. You were cleaning your table in the inventory room since you will not be allowed to use it for the next couple of days as punishment. The other girl was suspended for a few days due to the fact she was the one who had bullied and started a fight. As you place everything where it is supposed to go. You accidentally bump your shoulder against a covered case with a blanket that falls upon the ground.
Your lower lip trembles at the sight of the metal case with a red ribbon attached to a heartwarming letter which took you so many times to get it right. You had to go to the store to get more letters because you kept making mistakes. Your hand touches the smooth cold surface of the metal case.
It was the gift you worked secretly behind his back with the help of his classmates to make assure it was endurable enough for his quirk. Numerous test betas got destroyed easily which make you work harder and change the material which would be better.
You had to make a deal with the angry gremlin of Class A to test it out as the final test for it, which impressed him of your handiwork. He asked you to create gloves that could endure his quirk because they always get destroyed to shreds even at their maximum of his explosions.
That is how impressed he was with your creation.
Tears fall on top of the metal case which holds the final product you created with your tears, blood, and sweat. It seems like you wouldn’t be the one to deliver this to him. Fully knowing there is a high chance that Midoriya will want to break up which is completely understandable, but it still hurts.
You hug the metal case closer to you before letting out a silent scream and breaking down to tears.
Who would want to be with someone who got paid to go out with you?
Your fingers starting to feel numb based on how tight you are holding the case. Bloodshot eyes with tears running down your cheeks, hiccuping quietly laying on the ground.
You could only feel pure regret and invisible heaviness on your chest.
Summary; All of this was started by a deal. [Name] didn’t expect to fall in love with one of the top students from the hero course, Midoriya Izuku. What happens when things go out of control?
tags:; spiderman!izuku x reader, established relationship, fluff, manga spoilers, kissing, domestic fluff
wc: 863
a/n: i saw that tiktok artist @alehkus draw spider-man izuku and it’s been plaguing my mind so i wrote this. it’s not my best and i didn’t proofread but whatever i need to start writing like i used to and hopefully i’ll get back to before
Izuku was rushing around the apartment as you were half asleep face buried into the mattress. It was 6am too early for any human to be functional except your boyfriend who was currently late for patrol. He was running around like a chicken without a head throwing clothes on the floor and lifting items up.
After another two minutes of hurried shuffling you turned your face to the side eyed still sealed shut, “Honey what are you doing?”
He paused with wide eyed surprised you were awake even with all the noise he was making, “I can’t find my belt or shoes.”
“Under the kitchen table babe.” You sighed before turning your face into the mattress your brain succumbing to the darkness of the pillow and falling back asleep.
“Thank you!” He yelled
Izuku ran into the kitchen and let out a sigh in relief before changing and running out the door without a second thought.
You kept him sane.
It was a Saturday so you slept until 12 before finally getting up to an empty bed. No shock there Izuku was a workaholic.
You moved around the apartment noticing the path of hurricane Izuku when he was rushing around this morning and began to clean. Clothes and items everywhere.
Izuku was on patrol and came to a realization around 9am. He didn’t get a kiss or hear I love you from your lips. It’s this realization that put him in a bad mood.
After two defeating two criminals he was getting antsy. Your kisses to him were lucky and not getting one from you could make or break his day.
He didn’t get off of work until 6 and he couldn’t wait that long but he was still on patrol.
It wasn’t until 12 that he was patrolling in the city near your apartment
You were in your own world cleaning your apartment. Still in pajamas, hair tied up, and music playing you were in the bedroom picking up scattered items and clothes from the previous busy week.
Izuku turned down a street and noticed he was only a block away from your apartment. He could be in and out in a couple minutes to see you and his brain wouldn’t be plagued with his mistake from earlier.
Screw it.
Using black whip he hopped onto the roof building and swung himself to the 11th floor window that you resided in.
Peering inside he saw your familiar back of your head sitting on the floor of your bedroom. You were in one of his oversized shirts, sitting criss cross apple sauce with piles of laundry around you and headphones residing in your ears.
He held against the building and started to push against the glass. You whipped your head at the noise with scared eyes until you recognized who it was and sighed.
Izuku yanked up his mask and gave you a smile leaning into the bedroom.
“What are you doing here?” You said walking towards the window as he sat on the ledge allowing you stand in between his thighs.
He pouted with warm eyes, “ I didn’t get a kiss from you this morning, beautiful.”
Izuku’s eyes were crackling with green electricity from his use of black whip, slightly chapped lips, and a loving expression on his face, with his mask resting just above his hairline allowing some curls to escape.
“You came back home for that?” Wrapping your arms around his neck and his around your waist.
“Of course your kisses give me good luck.” He shrugged his thumbs caressing you.
“If you insist.” You smiled bringing one hand to his freckled face and one to the nape of his neck lightly tugging on his hair. Izuku snaking his tongue in your mouth to deepen the kiss, pressing you further into him.
“I love you.” He said in between gasps of air.
“I love you too.” Izuku continued pressing his lips into yours soaking up whatever time he had left with you, even if it was a couple minutes.
“Okay you have to go to work.” You laughed giving him a slight push.
He groaned in response dropping his head on your shoulder before you gently moved his face back up. Gently using your pointer to connect the dots with his freckles making both of you smile.
“No.”
Leaning to the side you saw a new scratch on his face. Assuming correctly it was a villain he defeated earlier that day.
“Zuzu you have to be careful okay?” You sighed giving him a kiss on his new mark.
“Of course angel.”
“Go, and you better come back to me.” You whispered foreheads leaning against each other. His hands tightly on your waist and pressing against his abdomen.
Being a pro hero was so dangerous and it was a risk every time he stepped through the door.
“Always.” He replied giving you one last quick kiss.
Izuku leaned back from the window dropping from your view. He knew it gave you a mini heart attack each time he did it but he wasn’t worried. Getting an earful from you at dinner before you smother him with love didn’t seem to bad.
tags:; fluff, mentions of food, izuku x reader, cute ending, super short
wc: 355
Izuku loves seeing you when he’s working. He loves seeing you in general but you going out of your way to see him at work makes his chest feel warm.
You walked through his lobby and waved at his receptionist. She waved you through, recognizing you from the picture on Izuku’s desk.
Opening the door you saw Izuku hunched over his desk completing paperwork.
“Hi, baby.” You called out holding out his lunch.
His head swung in your direction at the sound of your voice. Pulling back his chair and standing up, his hands reached out for you.
“Hi, sweetheart. What are you doing here?” Eyes lighting up at your presence.
His full height was a whole head taller than you and he kissed the top of your head. “I wanted to see you,” you said holding onto him.
You dropped his lunch on his desk and cupped his face. Holding his face in your hands you gave him multiple kisses turning his freckled face red, his hands wrapped around your waist.
“How was your day I missed you.” You asked combing your hands through his curly green hair.
“Good now that you’re here.” He admitted leaning into your touch.
“I know you would skip lunch so I brought it for you.” You nudged the box on his desk.
“Thank you, love.”
“Okay, I just wanted to say hi. I don’t want to distract you.” You began to pull away but he tightened his grip around your waist. “Don’t you want to eat lunch with me?” He pouted
“Are you sure I know you’re busy with paperwork?” You leaned to the side-eyeing the heavy stack filling his desk up.
“I’m sure please I want to spend time with you.” He nodded pulling you into his lap.
You spent the hour talking to him about your own work drama in his lap feeding him and stealing some of his own lunch for yourself.
This week you were discussing two of your coworkers having a very obvious affair, giving him chopsticks full of rice so he couldn’t even respond; only giving you small nods. You were so distracted you stole some of the food you packed for him.
Not that he minded, whatever was his was yours, including the ring box resting in his pocket.
tags:; tiktok prank, tired izuku, established relationship, domestic, living together, happy ending
wc: 411
“Zuzu.” You whispered nudging him awake looking over him.
Izuku was sleeping in bed softly snoring, jumping awake at your soft touch.
“Huh? yes baby.” He yawned blinking up at you.
“I’m just letting you know that i’m going for a walk, so you don’t worry where I am. Go back to sleep.” You whispered running your hands through his hair to pull him back to sleep.
“Okay baby.”
You got up kissing his cheek and turning away.
Izuku rolled over and squinted looking at the window and noticing how dark it is, whipping his head to the alarm clock on the dresser saying 10:38 pm.
He shot up out of bed scrambling with the blankets on him trying to catch you before you left without him.
“Y/n-“
You were in the bathroom wide eyes at his panicked reaction.
“What’s wrong Izu.” you asked
He was out of breath, only in boxers, blankets wrapped around his legs, and frantic eyes.
“I thought you already left.” He sighed out in relief leaning his forehead on your shoulder.
“I was about to go…”
“No! It’s dark outside you can’t walk alone it’s too dangerous.” He said putting his hands on your waist.
“It’s just walking around the park I’ll be fine.” You tried to reason.
“No baby it’s not safe to go by yourself. Let me go with you.” He tried to compromise.
His bags were heavy under his eyes and he had been working so many shifts.
“You’re tired I’ll be 20 minutes.”
He didn’t like telling you what to do.
“No I’m not let me put on my shoes. Going on a walk with you will be good for me.” He lied walking back into the bedroom.
Okay the joke was over you didn’t want him to fully get up.
“Never mind Zuzu I’m feeling kind of lazy do you want to cuddle instead?” You asked shutting off bathroom light and laying in bed.
“A-are you sure.” He asked in the middle of throwing on a hoodie.
“Yep I want to cuddle you and your abs.” Stretching out your hand for him to grab
He yanked his hoodie off and fell on top of you with a groan.
“Please don’t go off by yourself. If anything happens to you I won’t be able to handle it.”
You rubbed his abs making his cheeks flush and gave him little kisses, “I’m sorry.”
