Ho(rny)peless romantic who's hardly felt the touch of a man, so I resort to reading it. And writing it. Sometimes. Would love some ideas, but I can't promise anything :) Feel free to message me or send an ask though I'm terrible at replying <3
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Status : In love with My Hero Academia and Typing...
Who I will write for is in the tags <3
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To see who I'm currently in love with- scroll up to see the 'status' it will also tell you if I'm writing or not currently. Every character I write for is listed in the tags.
I switch who I write for somewhat often as I hyperfixate on one character at a time. I also dive deep into the character to make sure I'm writing that character as accurate as possible. So posts come long and detailed but rarely. I hardly write unless heavily inspired.
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When it comes to replying back to asks, messages, or comments know that I'm horrible at it. I read every comment and appreciate it greatly, I read every message and ask as well. I even have a saved folder in my phone that has screenshots of every ask I have received. Yet, I'm horrible at replying.
For messages, I get overwhelmed if the way I text is too formal and neutral that it'll come off rude, so I avoid it. I am a VERY neutral person so my emotions are a flatline, texting in a way I think people would perceive as cheerful is exhausting and I often forget about it.
For asks: I don't reply for a couple of reasons, you might have commented something that if I post it then I'd spoil plot, I'm working on the ask, or I just like to read it and keep it there.
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So I just played a game with my brothers best friend (who i desperately want) for like 4 hours. (Im going to ignore the fact that my brother was also playing the game and nothing actually happened) but he gave me all this new gear and seemed super excited to help me out. It was his birthday btw, and I gotta spend it with him so omg. He is 23 and im 20, and he has a younger brother my age so that might be weird as well. Idk I like pretending, and venting. Hence this posts- but but I get to game with him like every weekend for the next month or so if im lucky. Now. How do I bite him thru the screen?
So I just played a game with my brothers best friend (who i desperately want) for like 4 hours. (Im going to ignore the fact that my brother was also playing the game and nothing actually happened) but he gave me all this new gear and seemed super excited to help me out. It was his birthday btw, and I gotta spend it with him so omg. He is 23 and im 20, and he has a younger brother my age so that might be weird as well. Idk I like pretending, and venting. Hence this posts- but but I get to game with him like every weekend for the next month or so if im lucky. Now. How do I bite him thru the screen?
When bf Bakugo calls her spoiled but he's the one who set that system up ^_^
Nobody warned you that dating Katsuki Bakugo would completely ruin your ability to function normally around affection.
Which honestly felt unfair considering he was the one responsible for it in the first place.
Because before him, you were perfectly capable of doing things yourself. You carried your own bags without complaint, opened your own drinks, reached for things on high shelves without immediately looking around for help first. You survived perfectly fine without somebody automatically fixing your necklace clasp when it twisted the wrong way or pulling your chair out absentmindedly before you even sat down.
Then Katsuki happened.
And suddenly somewhere along the line, your standards got impossibly, horrifically high.
Not because he spoiled you intentionally either. That was the worst part.
Katsuki loved you in such a natural, consistent way that half the time he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It wasn’t with grand gestures or dramatic romance movie nonsense either. It was smaller than that, like quuieter. The kind of affection that slowly settles into your routine until one day you realize you genuinely don’t remember the last time you struggled with something alone because somehow Katsuki had already handled it before you even got the chance.
“Stop staring at me like that.”
His voice cut through your thoughts from across the kitchen, low and mildly suspicious, and when you looked up properly, Katsuki was already glancing at you over his shoulder from where he stood near the stove.
The apartment smelled faintly like garlic, black pepper, and whatever body wash he used lately that kept sticking to his shirts afterward. One of the windows above the sink was cracked open slightly, letting cool evening air drift inside while the city lights glowed faintly outside.
You were sitting at the kitchen counter in one of his old shirts, chin resting lazily against your palm while watching him cook.
Or more specifically—watching the way his forearms flexed every time he moved the pan.
Which, in your defense, was distracting.
“Like what?” you asked innocently after a second, blinking at him like you genuinely had no idea what he meant.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes immediately at the tone of your voice, already looking unconvinced before you even finished speaking.
“Like I’m about to buy you something,” he muttered, turning back toward the stove again with a quiet click of his tongue. “You get that look every time you want something.”
A pause settled briefly between the two of you before your brows lifted slowly.
“…Are you?”
His head turned just enough for you to catch the flat look he sent over his shoulder.
“There it is.”
A laugh slipped quietly out of you almost immediately, your smile widening against your hand.
Because honestly? This entire situation was his fault.
“You did this to yourself, you know,” you informed him casually, adjusting your legs against the stool while he stirred something in the pan with unnecessary aggression. “I wasn’t like this before you.”
“Tch. You were absolutely high maintenance before me.”
“No,” you disagreed immediately, unable to stop smiling now. “I was independent before you.”
“That sounds fake.”
“I’m serious,” you insisted, your voice softer this time, more amused than defensive as you watched him move around the kitchen so comfortably like he belonged there. “I used to know how to function normally.”
Katsuki scoffed quietly under his breath at that, though there wasn’t much heat behind it anymore.
“What does that even mean.”
“It means,” you started dramatically, sitting up straighter now as you pointed at him accusingly from across the counter, “that before dating you, I was fully capable of opening my own drinks.”
“You still are.”
“No,” you argued immediately. “Because now you automatically do it for me before I even touch them.”
“That’s because your nails are always too damn long.”
“Exactly,” you said quickly, pointing at him harder. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
His eyes narrowed slightly while you looked entirely too pleased with yourself.
“You made my life too comfortable,” you continued after a moment quieter now, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the counter while you watched him. “And now I genuinely don’t think I can go back.”
Something in his expression shifted briefly at that. Subtle enough most people probably wouldn’t notice, but you did.
Because after years of loving Katsuki, you’d gotten embarrassingly good at noticing the tiny reactions nobody else ever caught. The way his shoulders loosened whenever he relaxed around you. The slight twitch near the corner of his mouth whenever he was trying not to smile. The quieter tone his voice slipped into without realizing it.
“You’re dramatic,” he muttered eventually, though it sounded weaker now, less like an insult and more like something he said out of habit.
“Yeah,” you agreed easily, smiling to yourself. “But am I wrong?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he grabbed your drink from beside the stove before finally walking over toward you.
You watched him quietly the entire time, your expression softening almost unconsciously as he stopped beside you. One of his hands settled briefly against the counter near your shoulder while the other held the bottle out toward you.
Already opened.
Your lips twitched immediately the second you noticed.
“Katsuki.”
“The hell.”
“You opened it again.”
“Tch. Don’t start.”
But he looked away slightly right after saying it, like he already knew exactly where this conversation was about to go.
A soft laugh escaped you while you took the drink from his hand anyway, your fingers brushing briefly against his.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” you murmured, looking up at him over the rim of the bottle. “You can’t keep doing things like this and then act surprised when I get attached to it.”
“You’re impossible.”
“No,” you corrected lightly before taking a sip. “I’m spoiled.”
“And whose fault is that?”
You smiled slowly then, unable to help it. Because he really walked directly into that one himself.
“Yours,” you answered simply, your voice quieter now, more affectionate than teasing. “Obviously.”
His expression flattened immediately like he regretted asking the second the words left his mouth.
Katsuki clicked his tongue quietly under his breath before turning away again, but not before reaching over to fix the sleeve of your borrowed shirt where it had slipped slightly off your shoulder first.
His fingers brushed against your skin briefly. Absentmindedly like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.
And honestly? That was the dangerous part.
Katsuki never realized how affectionate he actually was because to him, taking care of you wasn’t some huge romantic gesture worth acknowledging.
It was instinct, natural like breathing.
He remembered things without trying to. The exact snacks you liked from convenience stores. Which drinks you preferred depending on your mood. The fact you hated crowded trains when you were tired. The specific side of the bed you slept better on.
He bought things casually if they reminded him of you. Replaced stuff before you even realized you ran out of them. Kept your favorite snacks stocked in his apartment like it was second nature now. He even carried hair ties around his wrist sometimes because you kept forgetting yours and stealing his whenever your hair annoyed you.
Then somehow still acted surprised when you became attached to being cared for.
“You are spoiled,” he muttered again a few minutes later while sliding your plate toward you across the counter.
You looked down automatically before pausing. The strawberries were already cut neatly into smaller pieces. Your eyes lifted slowly back toward him.
“…You cut the strawberries.”
Katsuki barely glanced up from the stove.
“Tch. You don’t like the leaves.”
Your expression softened immediately at how casually he said it. Like remembering tiny details about you was the easiest thing in the world.
“You literally proved my point again,” you said quietly, your voice gentler now as you looked back down at the plate. “This is why I can’t function anymore.”
“And? It's not like it's a problem.”
“It is, it’s a serious one actually,” you insisted, though your smile gave you away instantly. “If we ever break up, I’ll actually suffer.”
That made his eyes snap toward you immediately.
“The hell are you talking about.”
“I mean realistically?” you continued, trying and failing to sound thoughtful while resting your chin against your palm again. “Who else is gonna remember I hate strawberry leaves? Or warm my side of the bed first? Or carry my bags before I even ask?”
“You can hold your own damn bags.”
“But you don’t let me.”
“That’s because you start complaining after five damn minutes.”
“Exactly,” you said immediately, pointing at him once more. “You created this.”
He stared at you for a second like you genuinely exhausted him before exhaling sharply through his nose.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And deeply loved,” you corrected softly, unable to stop smiling at him now.
“Tch.”
But there it was again.
That tiny twitch near the corner of his mouth he kept trying to suppress whenever you said things like that too casually. Your eyes narrowed immediately when you noticed.
“Oh my God,” you gasped softly, leaning forward against the counter a little. “You’re smiling.”
“I’m literally not.”
“You literally are,” you laughed, already grinning too hard now. “Katsuki, you think I’m cute.”
“I think you talk too damn much.”
“But affectionately.”
Katsuki sighed heavily then, setting the spatula down before finally walking fully around the counter toward you.
“You’re annoying,” he muttered, though his hands were already settling automatically against your waist by the time he stopped between your knees.
Your arms slid lazily up his forearms without thinking.
“Yet here you are,” you murmured softly, tilting your head back just enough to look up at him properly.
“Tch.”
But he didn’t move away, didn’t let go either. And that, that right therewas exactly the problem.
Because Katsuki loved you so naturally, so constantly, that half the time he didn’t even realize how obvious it was. Meanwhile you noticed every single thing.
He is one thousand percent the type of guy to just collapse when he gets home. Whether thats on you or on the couch he doesn't mind either. He can and will become a deadweight instantly.
You can be home, lounging on the sofa with you legs up. Only sitting upright slightly when you hear him open the door. "Hey, how was work?" you greeted, moving to grab the remote to pause the show you were mindless watching.
He grumbled a noise of frustration, setting down his keys and whatnot before dragging his feet into the living room. "People are so fuckin' stupid," was all he said before dropping all his weight onto you.
Air squeeze from your lungs as you accommodated the new weight. His head falling on your chest instinctive burying his face in you. His arms wrapping around your waist, pinning himself against you and you against the couch. Shimmying his body between your legs so the two of you are fully connected.
A small hum leaving his lips as you run one hand over his back, squeezing lighting in a half ass attempt at a massage. The other hand curling into his hair and scratching at his scalp.
He just melted further into your embrace, letting a sigh that seemed to carry every frustration and every held word he had for the day. A signal to you that you would be here a while. So you did what anyone else would do, accepted it and pressed play on the remote.
You barely had one thing, one single thing separate from your intertwined life with your twin. Sure you had your appearance unique to yourself, but outside of that you had nothing to your own. So you desperately held onto what more you had over him.
Tamaki was yours, your single thing that you craved and wanted to yourself, but you couldn't even have that.
"Fuck," you shuffled around trying to grab anything you had around.
"What?" Tamaki watched as you panicked.
"Mirio's about to be here," you whispered yelled in fear, desperate to keep the secret, grabbing your clothes off the floor before moving to rush out. You two both just got out of the shower and you were in his clothes, nothing innocent could excuse this.
Tamaki however, looked at you with furrowed brows, "Why is it so bad if he knows?"
"He doesn't need to know this much," you blinked, caught off guard from the question but saved by the bell.
"Tamaki! I got some of your favorites," Mirio hummed from just outside the door. In your attempt to flee, you slammed your knee on the door frame as you panicked, swearing under your breath on the bruise you would have tomorrow. Phasing through the bathroom wall and into the hallway as Tamaki took blame of the noise.
Unfortunately your timing was off and you startled Hado, going past her as you put your hand to you lips to signal her to keep quiet.
"You alright Neijire?" Mirio called back.
She turned toward him, "Yeah!" Sending you a wink before she moved into Tamaki's room.
Before you could get far enough and before the door shut you faintly heard Mirio's voice before the door clicked shut, "Whose socks are these?"
Fuck, at least it coulda been worse. Your secret still had some life to it.
---
First Tease
The second tease for the actual fic! I feel like this one captures the storyline better. Hope you enjoy the tease cause it is a beefy fic! Anything I cut from the main story will also be posted as a side fic!
Part one coming soon at 23.5k words!
A crush was always an embarrassing thing, especially when it was a crush on your brother's best friend. One you've had since you were 8 or so, close proximity or something at fault. You couldn't blame Tamaki Amajiki for not knowing, falling into a secret relationship with someone else that only you were aware of, but man did it hurt.
It settled underneath your skin like a bruise that would appear the next day a horrible mixture of green and yellow.
You couldn't blame yourself either for smothering the relationship into a secret away from your brother, Mirio, as a disguise for how you truly felt. You didn't want to see Tamaki have a girlfriend that wasn't you.
It only led to more bruises forming and an overwhelming amount of uncertainty.
"I'm not dating Neijire," Tamaki said the second the door opened, out of breath and effectively snapping you out of whatever state you were in.
"What happened?" you blinked, did you break them up? Did Mirio somehow?
"I've never dated Neijire," he reworded, face determined to get his point across.
You shifted your weight onto your other hip, leaning more into the door you had open, "Um- but I thought you were in a relationship?"
"I thought so too," he nodded, face morphing into an awkward expression.
"So," you tried to drag the answer out of him, "Who was it with?"
"You," he stated it like it was obvious, clear as day, shining as bright as the sun. "But- I was wrong," he stuttered now.
---
Actual fic in the works! So a tease for now. Hope you it cause this fic gonna be beefy. FYI this storyline only takes up a third of the story.
Second Tease
Part one coming soon at 23.5k words!
Guys get horny after working out its science. Everyone has to deal with it so why is it so embarrassing?
Tamaki Amajiki has looked it up. Shame red and hot in his ears as he read Google's explanation of his motifying life.
The increase blood flow to areas Tamaki wish didn’t exist sometimes, boosted endorphins, reduced stress, elevated testosterone levels, and something to do with confidence from working out all to blame for his shame.
It didn't make him confident at all, he wanted to bury his head in a hole after. Especially since you are always around. He loved the thought of you around in theory, but in reality? It was hell.
Actually. You had the most horrendous timing. Declaring that you want to hang out right before he went to the gym, volunteering to join him afterwards, or just relaxing in his room for him to return. It was torture.
Face always flushed a deep red that he blamed on working out, dodging anything to do with you until he had a cold shower and 20 minutes to think of the grossest things possible. Anything but you waiting on his bed for him to return.
He felt guilty for it too, but there wasn't much he could do about it. You wanted time with him, and he couldn't really say no.
Until you almost made him pop a blood vessel.
Calling him the second he laid down to solve the problem the old fashion way. He wasn't proud of it, quite the opposite, but could you really blame him?
"Are you okay?" Tamaki made sure the screen only showed his eyes and up, blanket shoved over to cover the rest of him in case his camera magically flipped.
"Yeah, I just wanted to talk," you smiled sweetly, setting your phone on your desk, propped up so you were shown and could see him as well. Homework laid in front of you and gaining your attention for a brief second before falling back on him, "Can you show me your face?"
The smidge of shyness in your voice made a tight and wobby smile grace his face as he adjusted the camera to show his entire face.
"How was the workout?" you were practically beaming at just the action of seeing his face, it made his stomach flip.
"Fine, I was gonna nap," he was biting his tongue at the lie, but he wanted freedom from his mind, and it wouldn't go away if he was talking to you.
"Lame," you pout, "Fall asleep on the phone?"
It was a common occurrence, something that happened regardless of a plan but now it made Tamaki want to die. "I meant shower, just got back from the gym so you know-"
"Well I wouldn't mind if I stayed on the phone for that either," you joked, looking at your paper as you said it. He knows you meant it to be another playful joke that's brushed off, but it didn't settle that way. It settled right in his gut where his thoughts were already tainted.
When you finally got the courage to look at the camera you saw his bright red face, a deeper red coating his cheeks then just the post gym glow from before. "Sorry-"
"No- It's fine," Tamaki spit out before you could take it back. Because he wanted you to think that way, it made him feel just slightly less guilty for his own thoughts. "Just didn't expect it."
You hummed, "Well if you want to shower I won't stop you. Just call me back after?" you suggested, still awkward with the silence that broke out after your flirt.
"I lied, I was um-" he blurted it out before he thought of the consequences, and the furrow freshly added to your brows made him regret everything.
"What?" you gently pushed. But he couldn't spit the words out now, god no. "You know, you always get dodgy after the gym."
Now, you might as well rip the truth right out of him.
You leaned into the camera, a teasing glint to your eyes and the corner of your lip twitching up, "It is true guys get horny after working out? I know girls can't get like coregasms if they are lucky- but do you- are you horny?"
The way you said it without shame added to his. You always teased and tainted his thoughts more, because now he was imagining you with the same issue he has.
Maybe it shocked him too much, turned him pale and added a layer of fear that covered his embarrassment because you started backtracking. "Sorry- It's none of my business- if you aren't ready-"
"I am," he spoke so softly, barely uttered the words.
Confidence quickly came back to you, he wished he could say the same for himself. "You're what? Horny or ready?" you asked softly the mood shifting, gauging his comfort level as you always did.
"Both," he murmured, the feeling in his gut lighting on fire with the conversation.
"Oh," the air seemed to be knocked out of your lungs, just as it was for him. Your eyes looked over his on the phone, clearly forgetting your homework as you focused in on him. "So, what were you really doing?" You voice was soft and tempting.
Being prompted to confess what was already known was awkward, but it added to the feeling, the want. "I was," his eyes flickered to his crotch, covered with blankets as he questioned if this was the part of the phone call where he moved his hands south, "I was going to-" He cut himself off again, retreating his hand back to his stomach in guilt, "Can we not do this on face time?" he quietly asked. As much as he wanted to see your face, he couldn't handle you seeing his yet.
You guys have hardly seen each other in this light after all. A few makeouts and heavy petting being barely charted territory. He winced when he saw the slight disappointment cross your features but you quickly covered it up. "Sure," you stood up as you grabbed your phone, turning your camera off as he heard rustling, "So?" you erged again.
"What are you doing?" he asked, the rustling of fabric making you hard to hear as he turned his camera off and placed the phone next to his ear.
"Getting in bed, also took off my blouse," you uttered it quick and awkward, "Are you fully clothed?"
"Not quite," his blood was rushing, the skin of his back feeling like it was burning through the mattress, "I was going to get off before you called."
The confession was something he could barely utter, but it was already obvious. "Are you still?" you asked softly, a new tone behind it. He looked down at his hand, barely going to touch his waistband, humming in agreement, unable to speak as he allowed his hand to slip under and pull his boxers out of the way. "What were you thinking about?"
"You," he murmured, wrapping his hand around himself, "Always you."
"Yeah?" a gasp slipped from your lips, barely there but he picked up on it instantly. "I think of you a lot too."
"Like right now?" he now was slowly running his hand over his cock, adding no real pressure in fear of blinding himself with pleasure.
"Especially right now," a heavy breath rolled out of you and it made him crave it to be real, to feel really and against his skin.
A shakey breath leaving his lips and your heavy silence filled the call. Less words and more breathes fueling the desire and movements of his hand. But he was too curious to bite his tongue right now, he wanted and needed to know. He wanted to know you, even this side. "Do you do this often?" You hummed a yeah. "How come you never told me?"
"How come you've never told me?" you shot back, voice still being laced with a tone he's only heard tonight.
"Embarrassing," he confessed, brushing off the embarrassment, "I wish you told me. Could have-" he caught a whimper in his throat at the taught, tightening his grip and picking up speed, "Could have done something together sooner."
"Next time?" you practically moaned, it made him jerk up into his own fist.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he thought about you, "Yeah, please. I wanna see your face," he begged.
"Right now?" you panted, feeling as worked up as he did.
"No- I want to see it when I do it,'" he didn't know what he was saying, he was shaking, pumping his dick with his hand in time to your small gasps for air. He wanted you and all of you, it was clouding his judgment.
"I want your hands," you whined, it went straight to his dick, "I bet they'd feel so much better than mine." He groaned. His thoughts alone where enough, often thinking about you pressed against him, the feel of your lips against his. But now you were speaking your thoughts. It made him want it that much more.
"I want yours too, next time," he moaned, thinking about you lied their and arching to his touch. You were already murmuring about wanting his touch now, so imagine then? His face buried between your legs, it's all he really wanted. Just for you.
"Promise?" your breathing was uneven, shaking with a moan as you asked.
"Promise," he muttered, too lost in his bliss to second guess himself.
You whined, " 'M gonna-" he could picture the furrow to your brows, the focus you would have on the pleasure.
It made him follow right after you, hitting a high he didn't know existed. Rolling his hips into his hand as he pumped his fist. His free hand fisting the sheet and wishing it was you. Listening to your heavy breathing as he calmed down from the blazing feeling that consumed him.
Before the awkward moment afterwards could settle into his bones, smack him awake with post nut clarity, you let out a soft and blissful giggle, "We should do that more often." He huffed a laugh in return, agreeing but too bashful to admit it aloud. You on the other hand, had no issue, "I'm so glad I stuck to bugging you after workouts."
"You knew?"
"Had a feeling," he could hear the smile in your voice, "Plus you never told me to leave, and now we reap the rewards."
The light tint to your voice made the redness in his cheeks flare again. His clean hand falling over his eyes to hide himself. He wanted to die all over again.
Guys get horny after working out its science. Everyone has to deal with it so why is it so embarrassing?
Tamaki Amajiki has looked it up. Shame red and hot in his ears as he read Google's explanation of his motifying life.
The increase blood flow to areas Tamaki wish didn’t exist sometimes, boosted endorphins, reduced stress, elevated testosterone levels, and something to do with confidence from working out all to blame for his shame.
It didn't make him confident at all, he wanted to bury his head in a hole after. Especially since you are always around. He loved the thought of you around in theory, but in reality? It was hell.
Actually. You had the most horrendous timing. Declaring that you want to hang out right before he went to the gym, volunteering to join him afterwards, or just relaxing in his room for him to return. It was torture.
Face always flushed a deep red that he blamed on working out, dodging anything to do with you until he had a cold shower and 20 minutes to think of the grossest things possible. Anything but you waiting on his bed for him to return.
He felt guilty for it too, but there wasn't much he could do about it. You wanted time with him, and he couldn't really say no.
Until you almost made him pop a blood vessel.
Calling him the second he laid down to solve the problem the old fashion way. He wasn't proud of it, quite the opposite, but could you really blame him?
"Are you okay?" Tamaki made sure the screen only showed his eyes and up, blanket shoved over to cover the rest of him in case his camera magically flipped.
"Yeah, I just wanted to talk," you smiled sweetly, setting your phone on your desk, propped up so you were shown and could see him as well. Homework laid in front of you and gaining your attention for a brief second before falling back on him, "Can you show me your face?"
The smidge of shyness in your voice made a tight and wobby smile grace his face as he adjusted the camera to show his entire face.
"How was the workout?" you were practically beaming at just the action of seeing his face, it made his stomach flip.
"Fine, I was gonna nap," he was biting his tongue at the lie, but he wanted freedom from his mind, and it wouldn't go away if he was talking to you.
"Lame," you pout, "Fall asleep on the phone?"
It was a common occurrence, something that happened regardless of a plan but now it made Tamaki want to die. "I meant shower, just got back from the gym so you know-"
"Well I wouldn't mind if I stayed on the phone for that either," you joked, looking at your paper as you said it. He knows you meant it to be another playful joke that's brushed off, but it didn't settle that way. It settled right in his gut where his thoughts were already tainted.
When you finally got the courage to look at the camera you saw his bright red face, a deeper red coating his cheeks then just the post gym glow from before. "Sorry-"
"No- It's fine," Tamaki spit out before you could take it back. Because he wanted you to think that way, it made him feel just slightly less guilty for his own thoughts. "Just didn't expect it."
You hummed, "Well if you want to shower I won't stop you. Just call me back after?" you suggested, still awkward with the silence that broke out after your flirt.
"I lied, I was um-" he blurted it out before he thought of the consequences, and the furrow freshly added to your brows made him regret everything.
"What?" you gently pushed. But he couldn't spit the words out now, god no. "You know, you always get dodgy after the gym."
Now, you might as well rip the truth right out of him.
You leaned into the camera, a teasing glint to your eyes and the corner of your lip twitching up, "It is true guys get horny after working out? I know girls can't get like coregasms if they are lucky- but do you- are you horny?"
The way you said it without shame added to his. You always teased and tainted his thoughts more, because now he was imagining you with the same issue he has.
Maybe it shocked him too much, turned him pale and added a layer of fear that covered his embarrassment because you started backtracking. "Sorry- It's none of my business- if you aren't ready-"
"I am," he spoke so softly, barely uttered the words.
Confidence quickly came back to you, he wished he could say the same for himself. "You're what? Horny or ready?" you asked softly the mood shifting, gauging his comfort level as you always did.
"Both," he murmured, the feeling in his gut lighting on fire with the conversation.
"Oh," the air seemed to be knocked out of your lungs, just as it was for him. Your eyes looked over his on the phone, clearly forgetting your homework as you focused in on him. "So, what were you really doing?" You voice was soft and tempting.
Being prompted to confess what was already known was awkward, but it added to the feeling, the want. "I was," his eyes flickered to his crotch, covered with blankets as he questioned if this was the part of the phone call where he moved his hands south, "I was going to-" He cut himself off again, retreating his hand back to his stomach in guilt, "Can we not do this on face time?" he quietly asked. As much as he wanted to see your face, he couldn't handle you seeing his yet.
You guys have hardly seen each other in this light after all. A few makeouts and heavy petting being barely charted territory. He winced when he saw the slight disappointment cross your features but you quickly covered it up. "Sure," you stood up as you grabbed your phone, turning your camera off as he heard rustling, "So?" you erged again.
"What are you doing?" he asked, the rustling of fabric making you hard to hear as he turned his camera off and placed the phone next to his ear.
"Getting in bed, also took off my blouse," you uttered it quick and awkward, "Are you fully clothed?"
"Not quite," his blood was rushing, the skin of his back feeling like it was burning through the mattress, "I was going to get off before you called."
The confession was something he could barely utter, but it was already obvious. "Are you still?" you asked softly, a new tone behind it. He looked down at his hand, barely going to touch his waistband, humming in agreement, unable to speak as he allowed his hand to slip under and pull his boxers out of the way. "What were you thinking about?"
"You," he murmured, wrapping his hand around himself, "Always you."
"Yeah?" a gasp slipped from your lips, barely there but he picked up on it instantly. "I think of you a lot too."
"Like right now?" he now was slowly running his hand over his cock, adding no real pressure in fear of blinding himself with pleasure.
"Especially right now," a heavy breath rolled out of you and it made him crave it to be real, to feel really and against his skin.
A shakey breath leaving his lips and your heavy silence filled the call. Less words and more breathes fueling the desire and movements of his hand. But he was too curious to bite his tongue right now, he wanted and needed to know. He wanted to know you, even this side. "Do you do this often?" You hummed a yeah. "How come you never told me?"
"How come you've never told me?" you shot back, voice still being laced with a tone he's only heard tonight.
"Embarrassing," he confessed, brushing off the embarrassment, "I wish you told me. Could have-" he caught a whimper in his throat at the taught, tightening his grip and picking up speed, "Could have done something together sooner."
"Next time?" you practically moaned, it made him jerk up into his own fist.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he thought about you, "Yeah, please. I wanna see your face," he begged.
"Right now?" you panted, feeling as worked up as he did.
"No- I want to see it when I do it,'" he didn't know what he was saying, he was shaking, pumping his dick with his hand in time to your small gasps for air. He wanted you and all of you, it was clouding his judgment.
"I want your hands," you whined, it went straight to his dick, "I bet they'd feel so much better than mine." He groaned. His thoughts alone where enough, often thinking about you pressed against him, the feel of your lips against his. But now you were speaking your thoughts. It made him want it that much more.
"I want yours too, next time," he moaned, thinking about you lied their and arching to his touch. You were already murmuring about wanting his touch now, so imagine then? His face buried between your legs, it's all he really wanted. Just for you.
"Promise?" your breathing was uneven, shaking with a moan as you asked.
"Promise," he muttered, too lost in his bliss to second guess himself.
You whined, " 'M gonna-" he could picture the furrow to your brows, the focus you would have on the pleasure.
It made him follow right after you, hitting a high he didn't know existed. Rolling his hips into his hand as he pumped his fist. His free hand fisting the sheet and wishing it was you. Listening to your heavy breathing as he calmed down from the blazing feeling that consumed him.
Before the awkward moment afterwards could settle into his bones, smack him awake with post nut clarity, you let out a soft and blissful giggle, "We should do that more often." He huffed a laugh in return, agreeing but too bashful to admit it aloud. You on the other hand, had no issue, "I'm so glad I stuck to bugging you after workouts."
"You knew?"
"Had a feeling," he could hear the smile in your voice, "Plus you never told me to leave, and now we reap the rewards."
The light tint to your voice made the redness in his cheeks flare again. His clean hand falling over his eyes to hide himself. He wanted to die all over again.
Katsuki Bakugo is the type of man to move around a lot in his sleep. Years of training has worn his joints out and made them feel stiff if he doesn't move them frequently. So that results in him shifting and rotating in bed constantly. And if you have the blessing to be aside him? He'll take you right along.
His arm curled tightly over you, keeping you pressed to his chest, curling his body into yours. Shifting slightly at first from the ache settling into his hip, rolling them gently into you before he decides to move fully. Lifting and rotating you over him so he can lay on the other side of his body. Rolling his hips into yours for a final time to get rid of all the aches and the stiffness in his body expect for one part.
It startled you the first time it happened, you weren't even fully asleep and thought he was trying to start something else. Then you were aggressively tugged over and manhandled into his side all while he was asleep.
All this just for him to refuse the claims afterwards. Voice all gruff and deep with sleep, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "The hell you on about?" Ignoring how you were situated on the opposite side of the bed than you were when you went to bed. He'd brush off all your claims, deny, deny, deny.
Because why would he ever admit to being clingy? You'd get used to it eventually anyway.
You're rich. Filthy rich. And Izuku Midoriya knew not to judge, but he couldn't help it.
He hated you, the way you walked around with your chin up without putting in an ounce of work. He hated it, refused to be in your presence if he could afford it.
Refusing when Mei called him in for supports during times you'd be there. Turning his head down when you entered a room. Just to turn and glare when you've turned your back.
He hated everything you stood for. Eat the rich, you know. You were handed money and paid yourself into a fancy school using daddy's money. You were known in the school for being the richest.
So he thought the worst of you until you dropped of a million dollar suit to him like it was nothing.
"I kept it like you wanted, Mei designed it for you since I know you're picky with who works on your gear," you offered as you nudge the suit closer to him, "Go on, take a look. Anything you don't like can be removed or we can add stuff."
Standing in front of him like it was a casual Tuesday rather than the day you changed his life. Hands being stuffed back into your fancy suit jacket that probably costs his mom's yearly rent. All while he stared at you, mouth parted in shock. Seeing you look right past his shoulder and squint at the wall.
Shuffling your hand back out of your pocket and looking at your watch, "I have to stop and do something before class ends, so just contact Mei for anything that needs change. On me obviously."
And you left, just like that. A small casual wave over your shoulder as you walked out the door.
Ever so slowly, he looked down at the bulky case that contained his path back to his dream. Scrambling it open like he was just a kid opening his first limited edition All Might Merch. Mei did a lot, her flare was undeniable, but small bits and pieces were different. He needed more.
And being the curious soul that he was, he started paying attention. Noting certain mannerism you displayed in the cafeteria, listening to the mentions of your name, no longer brushing off and ignoring your presence.
Mainly when it came to the tech lab.
"Ah, money bags over there actually did that one," Mei shrugged and pointed your way, "She tried to explain it to me but everything she works with is a way different league."
Izuku hummed in response, eyes stuck on you and the way you were completely covered in oil and burns. "Is she alright?"
Mei looked over her shoulder, waving her hand in the air, "Yeah she's fine, always like that honestly. Go ask her though, I can't help with that part."
His legs moved on their own honestly, straight towards you. Unfortunately his voice didn't follow him. He felt horrible. He thought you were a stuck up bitch who'd repurchase an entire wardrobe because a poor person was near.
He has literally seen you jump away when someone touched your arm, glaring at them before walking away. You had a bodyguard the next day.
"Can I help you?" you asked, moving away from the mess you've made so you could redirect your attention fully onto him.
"I-," he was honestly horrified in his thought process at this point. Momo was rich and basically a goddess with how nice she was. Shoto was stacked with money but used every opportunity to share it. So why did he label you with the worse. "I just was wondering about this mechanic," he pointed to where his supports are supposed to kick in used to be, "I've tried everything but no luck."
"It's automatic, you don't need to do anything. Sorry," you wiped grease off your face and cleared your eyes with the back of your forearm, "I shoulda left that up to Mei, Just thought the greatest hero shouldn't be held back, ya'know?"
Now he was blushing like a fool, "No- It's fine. I just thought- Actually, do you have any other suggestions? I noticed you added a lot, and to be honest I'm not sure I've seen it all."
Your entire face lit up with a smile, "Yeah! I have a ton in my notebook," you moved to grab your bag from the workbench next to you but paused, "Could you grab it? You could read it, it has all my suggestions and what I've actually added. Should be easy to figure out."
Izuku looked between you and the bag, "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely, it's the middle pocket, it's the only green book. I hope you don't mind the fur. Oh- And since you're in there could you grab my phone?"
He followed your directions and grabbed everything as gently as he could, offering your phone to you.
"I can't touch that thing," you stepped back quickly.
And here's what he was prepared for, the realization that someone touched your things.
"I'm covered head to touch in this oil, it'd damage my screen permanently. Could you just see if I have a notification from the clinic?"
He wanted to slap himself again, but instead pulled your phone in closer to him. Stopping to stare at the homescreen of at least 10 dogs crowding around your legs. Quickly moving to scrolling through your notifications, "Your dad has called 12 times."
You scoffed, "He wants me at a business meeting right now, could care less."
"No text from the clinic though," he turned off your phone and set it back on the table. Noticing your frown he felt the need to ask, "Is it, sorry if it's personal, a result your looking for?"
You physically paled, all cheer in your face gone. "What? What notification did you see?" You rushed to your phone, wiping your hands off with a rag left on the counter and unlocking your phone.
"What- No I was talking about the clinic-" he rushed out.
The drop in your shoulders was instant, "Oh, right- Sorry. The clinic is for dogs. I volunteer there and they said they might text me today.
"Oh, sorry for assuming," he shrunk in on himself.
"It's fine," you sighed, "I'm just paranoid. Anyways," you turned back to him with the smile from before just slightly dimmed, "I can help you or let you know anything about your suit, if I skipped it in my notes. Just let me know, I do have to finish this up tonight though," you slapped the machine next to you, "There should not be this much oil."
Now he felt his entire perception of reality was off.
"I'll get the notebook back to you tomorrow," he felt like he was on a time limit still. Despite the kindness you've shown, he was still unsure if it was real or lasting. Like in a minute you'd realize he wasted your time.
You waved him off, "No need, keep it for a week or however long it takes you to go through it."
"Thank you. Really- I never got to say it before but it means a lot to me," he looked down at the piece of his suit in his hand, "I didn't think-"
"Don't worry about it honestly, you deserve it and more," you smiled at him, "So just let me know if anything needs to be changed."
He left when you turned and got back to work, humming quietly as you looked at the bolts. Your phone buzzing with a text on the table. Oil smudges still dotting the screen from when you grabbed it. He felt bad for picking but he is a curious guy, plus if it was serious he wouldn't be able to read the full text anyway.
DAD
The doctors said you are missing your appointments, you'll only get worse if...
Part 7/7 : all parts here : M.list
-Previous parts contain spoilers-
---
Unfortunately you weren't dumb. You knew, or at least you had an inkling. He physically beamed like the sun just at your touch. He burned the skin on your thigh and thought you wouldn't notice? Izuku Midoriya had to be the dumbest man you've ever met.
You were just testing the limits. Toeing around his previous confession and enjoy the breath of fresh air he had around him. You weren't fit for a relationship, you didn't even know if you ever would be. It put an awful taste in your mouth despite how much you craved it.
Izuku needed someone there for him, helping him, and you could provide that on a strictly friends basis. But if you were something more? It made you shudder as you left the gala, making sure your driver stayed for Izuku. You didn't want to be a project and it was obvious he already saw you as one.
He was always in thought, like he was debating what to feel about you, like you were some mystery in his own emotions. It was fun to watch, and he was a great friend, but it'd make for a mess of a relationship and it was obvious.
It didn't help the way he felt the need to cater to you, and the chronic pain you were cursed with. Tiptoeing around you and your limits too often, too worried, it made you sick.
That's why you never called it out, or acknowledged his feelings, or the bitterness in his voice when you sprayed Todoroki's cologne on him. You didn't want to deal with his unsure emotions or his need to be a hero when it wasn't wanted. You were set on just being his friend, attempting to help him in every way possible while you ignored his lingering gazes or how attractive he looked when he was focused.
A complicated business deal is how you labeled it in your head. Corporations always made deals that toed the lines of what they truly wanted and gained other benefits in the process. That's what this was. You got a friend to spend time with, and he got constant upgrade to his suit and more business connections. Ignoring the want for more.
Izuku was dumb for not realizing that. The look on his face made your skin crawl from how quickly it fell. He was smiling at you dreamily one moment and the next he looked like you took his heart right out of his chest and stomped on it.
You looked down at your phone, his contact was pulled up on the screen as you sorted through ways to fix this in your mind. He's already called you twice but you left it to go to voicemail. Mainly because you were avoiding him, but you could blame it on your body guards forcing you back to your dorm.
Fixing this one was hard. He wanted more, he wanted to solve the little mystery in his head, and you wanted a break from being a mystery. It was exhausting. You already dealt with yourself and your father worrying about your health, questioning every doctor, last thing you wanted to do was add another person into the worry. He only knew the basis of everything, if he was more he would actually have to deal with it, share your exhaustion.
"Are you mad at me?"
You snapped your head to the sliding glass down of your room. He was standing against the glass like a puppy locked outside. Leaving the door shut as if a sign of how he respected your space, at least slightly.
"I didn't mean to upset you- that's the last time I wanted," his voice was muffled by the glass, eyes following you as you moved to unlock and open the door for him.
"It's alright," you guestered for him to step inside, awkwardly standing in the space of your room, "Just don't know what you expected."
His face furrowed, "A response at least?"
"I think no response is reponse enough," you crossed your arms, effectively closing yourself off from this conversation.
He rolled his eyes, "I'm not dumb-"
"Sure you're not," you scoffed.
"You're doing the same thing as before," he took a step closer, "Blocking me out because you don't want me to deal with your health.
You took a step back, "Because you know everything after you've seen it once, so analytical."
"I know you, at least what you've shown me," he spoke softly as if trying to dampen the resentment you had at the idea of him. He was all too familiar with the feelings of hatred, he could see what you hated and how it wasn't exactly him. "I'll worry, but I already do, I'll be there for just like I already am. Nothing has to change about that."
"Everything has to change about that," you point out, "Who said I even want you to worry or to be more to me?" He fumbled to respond, the bitterness of your statement hitting home. It gave you a chance to add on, "It's different to be friends with someone who's chronically ill than it is to date them. Do you know how many times I've been told I'm being coddled? Just because I was venting how much my pain was affecting me. I'm not dealing with that from you."
"I'd never-"
"You've never had to deal with someone chronically ill, I don't know what's wrong with me and there is no fix. I'm just stuck in the shell of my own body. You'd have to sit there with me because I'm stuck where I'm at," you blurted, "You don't understand that and I don't want you to."
He frowned, his arms twitching to go in for a hug. You were probably making his need to save spike, with the tears welling up in your eyes but refusing to fall. "I want to know you," he murmured, "All I care about is being there for you. If you can't take the step to something more then we don't have to, I won't leave."
God he wasn't getting it. You wanted to take the step, it's why you've been dancing along the line of it with him the past couple of months. He was so unbelievably tempting. He was hopeful.
"I'm not going into this blind," you could see him going into his hero speech mode, stepping closer to you as you scoffed, "I've been doing research, I've been listening, I know what chronic pain is like and I've been around people chronically ill. It's not exactly what you're going through but it's a start, I want to learn and help you."
"It's a different thing when it's your girlfriend randomly crying about how her leg hurts and then being fine a hour later. You can't really learn this unknown bullshit," you corrected. Doctors didn't know your issue or how to fix it, you sure as hell didn't, so he would either.
He perked up at the word girlfriend, as if he knew he was getting to you, grabbing onto your hesitation to say no and using it to fuel his resolve. "I'll deal with that too, just give me a chance? Your always gambling on your health anyway, maybe just risk a little on me?" he offered as a joke, cutting back to how often you complained about how the doctors where gambling with your health, giving you medication they had no clue if it would help.
"I've already invested 200 million yen into you," you mention, referring to his suit, letting your walls crumble. He seemed so sure of himself now, all the hesitance and the mystery he had in his eyes just hours ago was gone, as if the final piece of the puzzle locked in place for him.
"That was an investment into my career not me," he called out, smiling softly down at you, having closed basically all the space between the two of you. "So? Give me a chance?"
You glared at him, squinting your eyes as you tried to block out the hope that was blinding you. Maybe this was just another step into accepting a chronic illness. Maybe it was time to get over hating it and letting it dictate every aspect of your life. "Sure."
"You sound so excited," he rolled his eyes, the brightness in his smile not wavering. You didn't give him another moment, if you were throwing in the towel at your reluctance to a relationship, then you were throwing caution to the wind. Grabbing his slightly skewed tie and pulling him in the rest of the way, perfectly landing your lips tightly against his.
Letting his hum of agreement fill the air as you soaked in the reality.
He was practically on another world with his happiness. He was fumbling around anxiously since you left the gala. Having no clear plan on how to make things right and just letting his body move. Finding himself outside your dorm before he could think more about it. What was he expecting? It certainly wasn't a passionate kiss the had him stumbling, placing his hands on your hips for balance.
The entire conversation has him ruining over every conversation the two of you ever had. Trying to figure out a way to make the idea of him appeal to you. He hated how much he loved the amount you made him think. He went brain numb around you while constantly thinking of you, it was a mix of emotions.
Never did he think that the bitch he knew only month ago would be tongue deep in his mouth an hour after rejecting him. The feeling sent sparks up his spine. He knew you were only hesitant because of the chronic illness, you showed all the signs you did in the past. Though he did gamble on how much you liked him.
Nothing was left to question in that regard now, even as you pulled away for air. "You're so dumb," you mumbled.
"You're so mean," he pouted, enjoying the flushed look on your face before you leaned back in.
"Glad we're in my room and not yours," you mumbled, trailing your lips across his jaw as you spoke.
"Why's that?" he murmured, grabbing onto the desk that was now behind him after all your pushing.
"No All Might sheets to stare at me," you snarked.
He was left to roll his eyes, you were snarky, maybe that's why he thought you were such a bitch. The attitude radiating off of you. You were the kindest person he's ever met, thoughtful like no one else, but you still had another side to your personality. It probably what he hated, how he could see it clear as day but no one else could. "I told you those were backups," he pinched your side.
"The posters?" you leaned away, laughing at his poke.
"Expensive, I'm not just throwing them away," he pouted from the loss of your lips and the direct tease.
"No making out at your dorm then," you shrugged.
"You bitch," he muttered in shock, no heat behind his words as you leaned your head back in laughter.
Swatting at his arm that was still wrapped around you, "I'll buy you something to store some of it, I'm not that mean."
---
Back to the Start <3
M.list for the finished series
Part 6/7 : all parts here : M.list
-Previous parts contain spoilers-
---
Another drink being handed to you all added more to the blur of the night.
The gala had lasted hours without your target audience showing up. "Thanks, goffer boy," you gave him a wide smile, knocking back the glass of champagne with no regard for the other people in the room.
"Weren't you the one scolding me to be classy?" Izuku eyed you, glancing around at all the high-class people who filled the room.
You gave him an overall look, looking him up and down slowly before letting out a snarky laugh fueled by the alcohol in your system, "Yeah, but you needed it." Maybe he was right, maybe you were a bit bitchy.
"Rude," he glanced around, laying eyes on his still-full glass of champagne.
"See, even right now I'm outclassing you," you teased, bumping into him.
"How?"
"You're holding the glass wrong," you grabbed the glass and his hand and helped rearrange it properly. "You're supposed to hold the glass by the stem so you don't warm ya drink. I've seen like fifteen old people give you a glare 'cause of it."
His face flushed red for more reasons than the alcohol or your touch, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"It's cute seeing you fumble," you shrugged, "Plus I was tryna see what else could give ya away."
"I thought people of class were supposed to speak properly," Izuku snarked back, officially embarrassed and not knowing how to handle a compliment from someone so devoted to embarrassing them further. You were so hot and cold, at least his opinion of you was.
You stuck your tongue at him in jest, moving to stand in front of him and taking his glass from his hand, knocking back the rest of his drink and pulling his hand towards you, "Come on, let's dance."
Now he couldn't stay mad for long at you, letting you lead him into more unknown territory and hoping you wouldn't let him drown in it. "I thought you were having a flare-up?" he muttered, ever so concerned.
Having you lean in closer to him caught his breath. "That's what the alcohol is for, I'll feel it tomorrow," you lean away again, as if you just told him a secret. Moving your hands to readjust his. Placing them at your hips and resting yours around his neck, lying your head onto his chest, "I am exhausted, though. You smell good."
He hummed, ignoring the last comment, tightening his hold. God, he would never forgive himself for the time he wasted thinking you were only a bitch. "Anything I can do to help?" he murmured, unable to resist his undying need to be the hero.
"Nah, I'll be alright."
His heart rate was through the roof, he felt like he was on fire, the way you snuggled in closer was sending sparks up his back. It all caught on his tongue. "I love you," was uttered from his mouth in an entirely different way than you said it just hours prior.
Spoken so differently and from the heart that it stunned you. Sending you to stand straight up and make eye contact with him for a beat as if to confirm what he just said. The look in his eyes probably gave it all away, seeing you settle with what he said before pulling away awkwardly. Having officially ended the moment as quickly as it started.
You looked around the room frantically before some of the tension left your shoulders. "There's the board of directors for the school you want to go to," you pointed off to the side. Stepping further away from him and leaving his arms open and empty for the space of you. "It's why I invited you, make a good impression, will you? My father had to donate a lot to get them here so I hope you appreciate it."
Every word you spoke, you became more tense and more formal, it's as if you were being pushed back into the mold you were in when he met you. It was practically visible, the way you were freezing up and repulsed by the idea. He couldn't even say anything before you darted off.
Now, once again, you were leaving him to hate. He hated the way he expressed his feelings. He hated the way he repeated a similar mistake. He hated the way he made you run away. He hated the way you ran away. He hated the way you hurt him so deeply while doing one of the kindest things for him anyone ever has, aside for yourself. He hated the way he couldn't hate you and had to bear all the hatred himself.
Part 5/7 : all parts here : M.list
-Previous parts contain spoilers-
---
"You are so sloppy," you laughed light-heartedly, the second Izuku opened the door far enough for you to see him, stepping into his space without a second thought to adjust his tie.
"Rude," he mumbled, speaking a claim he couldn't even back, not even with his tone. Gazing down at you, star-struck as you fold his tie properly.
You let your hands fall to hold his biceps when you were done with his tie, leaning back and looking him up and down. "You clean up nice," you patted his arm, in such a friendly manner it burned his soul. Walking away and to his dresser, "Not saying you smell bad, but do you have cologne? It's basically a signature people need at these events, if you don't have it, they literally sniff you out."
"I have this-"
"I'm talking expensive cologne, like 300,000 yen," you blinked at him, seeing the grocery store cologne he had on his dresser.
"No, I can't afford-"
You were looking down at your phone now, ignoring him. Since you've walked into his room, you've been on a mission. Constantly in thought, it made it so he couldn't think. Only now realizing the dress you were wearing. Normally, he saw you in comfortable clothes or greasy mechanic clothes, so this was a step.
"You look gorgeous," is what came out of his mouth without much thought, his heart skipping a beat.
"Thanks," you murmur, shrugging off how out of breath he sounded as you looked at your phone, "Todoroki has some, and he always smells good. I'll be right back."
He was left with his mouth parted open in shock. Dumbfounded with an itch under his skin about you knowing Shoto smelled good. He hated it. How were you making him so hateful? His chest burned in a completely opposite way than before, rather than warming his entire body at your touch, it burned a hole through his stomach at the thought of you being chatty with Shoto right now.
The last thing he wanted was to smell like him for tonight, reminding you of him. All he could do was frown, glaring at the cologne he bought two years ago on sale. Hating his own choices.
"Back," you cheered, closing his dorm room behind you, "He gave me one that you can keep, says he doesn't mind."
"I do," he bit out, more bitter than he intended.
"Jezz, well, he doesn't seriously. Just take it, he was being sweet," you hand the bottle to him, "It smells super good, I don't think he's worn this one, it's not his usual."
So now Shoto had a usual? He rolled his eyes, feeling relieved that at least he wouldn't smell like Shoto all night. "Thanks."
He sprayed it on as you suggested, then you set to help him short out his cuffs, folding them just right. "The cologne fits you super well," you spoke into the silence as you fixed his suit.
"I need to get my own," now how could he be bitter when you were just inches away, hands on him.
"Oh! Let me come with, I know the best stores," you looked up at him brightly, taken aback slightly at how he was looking at you.
That was a classic couple's activity. It's partly the reason he never wanted to buy his own expensive cologne. He wanted his girlfriend to choose it, so even though you didn't take the title, he couldn't refuse. "Can I pick you one?"
"No need, I already have a signature scent," you declined, once again brushing off his advances as if they meant nothing. Though he couldn't think of a different perfume that would best the one on you right now, it was so fitting.
He hummed, burying the rejection, "Need any help getting ready?"
"Todoroki helped me when I stopped by," you stepped back, finally at peace with how put-together Izuku was. You looked at your phone, "The car's here anyway, so we got to go," you grabbed your purse that you set down at his desk, looking at him finally, "Why the frown? I know the event is annoying, but you agreed to it."
"I know," he fixed his face with a slight smile, covering the frown that appeared at Shoto's name. "Just nervous."
You hummed, stepping into his space again, face bright as you leaned in as if to tell him a secret, "There's champagne in the limo." You left his space as quickly as you entered it, walking out of his room with him trailing behind. "My driver always keeps my favorite champagne, and since it's winter, we are both legally able to drink it and fit the season. I hope you like it." You rambled as the elevator chimed to open and lead you to the bottom floor.
Listening as you rattled off the options he had to drink in the limo, and the likely options that would be at the gala. Pausing only when the elevator doors opened, you barked out a laugh.
"Money bags," Bakugo glances at you, squinting. Meeting in a similar way you guys did months ago.
"Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight," you teased, "Little fan boy," you pointed between the two boys, "You guys really are one of the same."
A scandalized look took over their features as they looked at each other in horror. Calling out defenses to the claim, as you just laughed.
Bakugo eventually let the horror be forgot as you ignored him, "Where ya going?" before you could answer, he looked back at Izuku with his face scrunched up, "And why the hell do you smell like Icy Hot?"
Izuku felt pure horror, glaring at you for a moment because you claimed Shoto never wore this one. Now it was all he could think about. Was any move he wanted to make tonight just going to remind you of him?
"My father is hosting a gala, I'm dragging him along with," you answered after trying to brush off the glare Izuku just gave you, "You know how it is. Doesn't your mom-"
He scoffed, "Don't remind me, that hag used to drag me everywhere."
Now you knew a thing about Kacchan that no one else did? How far did your connections go? Was he the last one to meet you? Did he really let people win you over while he was thinking you were a bitch?
"Don't we have to leave?" he nudged your side, having stepped closer to you a moment ago to remind you that you were spending time with him, not Kacchan. He didn't care how he interrupted your conversation or how his friend gave him a knowing look.
You glanced at your phone to check the time, "Fuck, Tanaka is going to bite my head off," you grabbed Izuku's head to make sure he kept up as you raced to the car, yelling out before you did, "Bye, Dynamight."
The bitterness he had at you sharing a joke with Kacchan didn't have the same hold on him as before, now having your hand interlocked with his. Arriving at the car with heavy breaths escaping you, uttering apologizes to your driver as you usher him in.
"Fuck that hurt my joints," you sighed, melting into your seat after having gotten settled, officially on the way to the gala.
"You okay?" instinctively, he reached out, placing his palm on your knee and rubbing slightly, having remembered you told him heat helped get rid of the pain sometimes.
You hummed, leaning into his side more, "Yeah, I'll be alright, just will have to sit down the majority of the gala," your tone was slightly sad, a pout on your face, "I'm sorry, I was really wanting to show you the ropes of everything."
"It's fine, the only reason I'm going is for you," you invited him to a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and yet you were apologizing, it drove him crazy. Gala's weren't even that rare for heroes, he'd go to hundreds, but he'd never really be able to go with you.
As always, you brushed off the inconvenience of your chronic pain and smiled at him teasingly, "Just means ya gotta be my goffer boy, get me all the little desserts- and champagne, speaking of-"
You reached behind him, grabbing a bottle out of thin air, it seemed. It didn't need the cork removed, having been open by your driver before you arrive. "I don't mind getting you anything," he tried to ignore how his hand had slightly ridden up your leg at your movements, his thumb now tracing your thigh through the opening in your dress.
"Good, now do you want a glass? Or are you fine with drinking out of the bottle?"
"We can just share the bottle," he shrugged, ignoring how fast his heart was racing at the idea of an indirect kiss. Smiling brightly at your lack of class right before a huge formal event.
"This is why I love you, so easy going," you smiled, guestering the bottle into the air before taking a swig. He could hardly hyper-analyze the way your lips touched the bottle, more focused on the words you just said.
I love you has never felt more casually daunting. He has come to think he had a pretty good read on you, and those words were uttered without a thought to second-guess them or apply any meaning more than friendship. No 'I'm in love with you' factor. You just loved him as a person, and it stung. Is that the way you took his words?
"Your turn," you said, wiping your mouth with the back of your free hand, holding the bottle out for him to take.
And he did, taking a longer swig than you did to try and drown the realization. Trying to ignore your cheer at him to chug it all. He gave you a side glance while he took another sip, catching you off guard with his heated gaze as he squeezed your thigh lightly. As if in a reminder that he was there.
He hated how, for someone so smart, you were so oblivious. That's what he hoped was the case, not wanting to think about the thought of you purposefully ignoring his feelings.
Part 4/7 : all parts here : M.list
-Previous parts contain spoilers-
---
Now Izuku Midoriya hated you for new reasons. It felt like you added a new one to the list every sentence you spoke. Because no, you weren't a stuck up bitch who only got her way with daddy's money. Nor were you a person to jump away from a stranger's touch like it burned your very soul that a poor person would ever dare lay hands on you.
You volunteered, with puppies. You made multibillion dollar suits for people as a donation. You didn't let feelings corrupt you. You were confident. You were understanding. You were forgiving. You gave people chances that they didn't earn.
He thought you were out of touch, but no, you put yourself in other's people shoes and try to help them their way instead of just your own.
The thing he stuck on most was how you didn't let feeling corrupt you. He racked it through his brain more times than not. Cause he sat next to you with his feelings laid bare on the table weeks ago, and you haven't mention a word. He declared his love to you and you shrugged it off. He wishes he could be mad, feel rejected, have an actual reason to hate you, but no, you weren't malicious about it or even a hint of disgusted. You were just neutral.
Did you even remember? Did you even care to?
He was hyper analyzing it as you glared down at your phone. Elbows on the table, phone in one hand and the other hand in your hair. Your face was all scrunched up in what he recognized as annoyance. All before you sighed and knocked him out of his thought spiral by pointing your phone in his direction.
"See this is why I don't go to doctors, cause the fuck do you mean-" you raised your voice to mock," 'We can't help this condition but can still schedule an appointment if you want' Why the fuck would I want to go to the doctor to just go to the doctor?"
You were very straight-forward. He thought you were all proper, not a hint of slang in your language, maybe something close to how Shoto used to socialize in first year, but he was so wrong. Just another thing he got completely wrong.
"Which doctor is this?" he questioned, scanning over the screen of text you were showing him, he knew you saw several different specialist, always being referred to a different one.
"The one my primary doctor referred me to which referred me here. Apparently for no fucking reason- I've been waiting on this appointment for 9 months. When I first scheduled it they canceled me then had me reschedule, all to tell me they can't help? What the fuck."
You pulled your phone away and tossed it off to the side of you, crossing your arms and glaring at it. "What does this mean for you?" he asked quietly, trying to gauge your mood even though he was awful at it.
"I'm back at square one," a deep sigh basically forced itself out of you, you shoulders sagging as your glare deepened for a moment before turning to meet his eyes, "Whatcha doing?"
With your head nodding to his open laptop he looked back down at it, he forgot what he was even doing. He was too busy thinking about you before. "I- uh," his eyes flickered across the screen, "You mentioned I could be a teacher. 'M lookin into it."
"Lemme see," you spun his laptop to face you, not caring how you could potentially push boundaries. Maybe that's something he could hate you on, even if he smiled at your comfort with him. "This university is famous for schandle, this university is known for fraud and will charge you an arm and a leg for no reason, this one is actually the worst program wise," you were closing tabs without a question, "This one's pretty good, my father knows the board of directors, I've meet em too."
You spun the laptop back to him with the tab open on the university you deemed fit. "Oh- Is there any other one I should look at?" he felt like he was trying to catch up. You knew so much about something you didn't even want to persue.
"Nah, that one has the best education system, but you will have to keep up because it's slightly competitive? Like everyone wants to be the biggest teacher's pet- not like you will struggle," you snort, "Mr. Sleeps with his Teacher's face on his bedsheets."
"I threw those out," he grumbled.
"No you didn't," you scoffed.
"No, I didn't," he muttered, not likely the feeling of even a white lie to you, it was worth the truth anyway, hearing you laugh brightly because of it. "How do you even know all this stuff?"
"Research? How else?"
"Why though? You don't want to be a teacher?" he questioned maybe he was wrong about that too.
"No, I don't but you might, so I looked into it," you shrugged.
Did you research his heart along with? How were you this thoughtful person? How did he think you were a cold hearted bitch a couple months ago.
It took the breath out of his lungs, staring at you wide eyed and mouth slightly parted. You spoke as if that was the most casual thing in the world, like he was dumb for thinking you did it for any other reason but him.
"You good?" you shook his arm, he had moved it to realign his laptop from the glare but was left awestruck.
The touch singed at his skin, despite the little feeling he had in his arms it felt like you left them on fire. The tingly feeling shooting up his arm and throughout his entire body.
"Deku?"
"Izuku."
You buffered, hand twitching on his arm every so slightly in surprise, "Huh?"
"We've been friends long enough for you to call me Izuku," he smiled softly, "I've been calling you by your name anyway."
"T-that's different," you spoke out, the hero you admired just opened his heart to you. People normally never got close enough for a first-name basis with you so you handed it out regardless, and many people don't even take the offer, referring to you by your father's name. "I don't want to be known only by my father's name."
"Neither do I, not by you," he pulled his hand back, realigned it so your hand fell over his palm. Using the shock factor to brush at your fingers for a moment while you were as wide eyed as he normally is.
He hated how you looked honored.
You blushed, "Alright."
The rosey color added to your skin made him choke up. He did that? He could do that? He watched your eyes flicker to his hand in surprise, curling your fingers over his. It felt like his heart stopped, maybe started beating to fast, he didn't know. So he just smiled at you, an awkward smile, one that screamed he didn't know what he was doing but he was going to try anyway.
"Hey," you called for attention, voice soft as your other hand joined to mess with his fingers and avoid eye contact, "I need a favor."
"Anything," he didn't intend for his voice to be so breathless, like it would be his dying action, but it happened regardless.
You breathed out a soft laugh, "I need to go to a gala this weekend," you trailed off, brushing your fingers over his scarred hand for a second with your eyebrows furrowed in thought, clearly your thought and continuing, "Would you want to come with? They're super lame- but it'd only be for a moment-"
"Of course," he brought his hand to join the others, holding yours as you held his. His voice felt thick in his throat. Were you asking him out?
"It's black tie- so it's a lot but I'd really appreciate the support. My father likes to crowd me and force me to make connections- I'm not a huge fan of it though," you defended, looking back to his eyes finally after he said yes, "You might piss him off though."
A devilish smile warmed your features, he really shouldn't like it as much as he does. You wore that smile everything you guys snuck away from your bodyguards to hang out. It made him forget to think.
The excitement of disobedience warmed your slow, snapped you out of the haze Izuku put you into, moving your hands from his just to rapidly tap at the top of them. "I'll have a suit sent to your dorm, I have your measurements from everything so It'll be quick."
"You don't need-"
"Yes, I do," you laughed, he would need to be dressed up for this, "I'll stop by the night before to help you get ready." You could not have his hair be a mess or his try be scrunched up.
"I don't need-"
You grabbed your stuff to leave, busy planning and in a mode, rounding to his side of the table in an instant and tugging at his currently poorly done time, lifting it as an example, "You sure about that?"
His face flush for more then just embarrassment. You were too close.
"I'll text you the details," you drop his tie and lean closer to him. What were you doing? You were moving fast. It's like he blinked in the time you smacked a quick kiss to his cheek, "Thank you, Izuku."
Now he attempted to say something back but his voice gave out, leaving him turned towards the door that you left out of.
Part 3/7 : all parts here : M.list
-END OF ANIME SPOILERS-
---
Izuku Midoriya knew he fucked up, he poked and prodded when pushed off. It was a bad habit that he couldn't get rid of. He felt extremely bad, he knew how it felt to feel crowded or overlooked, he just wanted to offer a hand to you but you just bit it.
You took your sweet ass time, letting Izuku Midoriya squirm in ideas of how to fix whatever he was trying to do. Because you knew he had no true negative intent, at least you let yourself realize that after you blew up on him and left, but it was your tactic.
People came in close, tried to listen, offered to listen, then claimed they had to coddle you for just sharing the smallest details. It was a ridiculous game of tug or war, because you just wanted to vent and no one would listen and talk to you like you were normal. One side of the rope people would say your dramatic and sharing too much and the other people would brush it off cause it's not serious enough.
You needed a normal thing in life, Izuku was that for a while. He was someone to talk to that knew nothing but was still trying to be your friend, but he got absorbed in it. It was obvious he knew something or wanted something. You aren't someone who can be used as a stepping stone, at least not in the personal world. Professional people step all over each other.
When he came back to return your notebook the second time, you felt like something was off, but you brushed it aside as his excitement for the suit.
Turns out he just read your messages, which you tried to be mad about but he just glanced at an obvious text message, you woulda done the same. You also tried to be mad about him wasting your time to find out your secret, to scratch his itch. People did it all the time, once they found out you were chronically ill, they'd change. Being too careful or just rude.
One time a girl grabbed your arm hard enough to leave a bruise, stating you had no way to succeed past her with a pathetic illness. Somehow someway your dad found out and forced you to have body guards. Only making the rumors and the situation worse.
So Deku knowing was a nightmare, you knew he'd only coddle you and treat you like a child rather than an adult, and he already proved that. So you snapped at him, because you weren't his project. You also had a long day filled up of doctors running tests just to give zero answers.
Yet you still felt guilty, you wanted to talk to him, give him a chance to be a good friend you could confide in, but you were too paranoid and too guilty feeling to actually talk to him.
That left it to a waiting game of about two weeks. Ducking your head whenever he looked over, welding or leaving the workshop when he stopped by, just overall avoiding him. Even going to the doctors appointments your dad scheduled.
He was known to be persistent though.
Peaking into the lab trying to get your attention over the volume of your music. Sitting down at your work table next to you, just to get ignored.
After he couldn't get your attention at the lab, he resorted to sitting at your lunch table. He didn't make it obvious you two had a falling out, because he directed his attention to Momo who sat next to you. It was just a show he wouldn't stop.
Somehow your dad found out, and had your body guards shoo him away. His reasoning being that being friends with him would bring in more danger. He always had his rants about you being careful, to be sure to always stay safe and away from danger. He only allowed you to enter U.A because you were supposed to be a hero, yet he tried to ensure you had no interaction with heroes more than necessary after your health went to shit. Your dad restricted everything, even in the dorms you had a floor to yourself because you 'needed space.'
Deku was left to feel like he was fully shut out. You blocked out any way he could talk to you. He had no idea your dad was involved. So he went back to thinking you were cold hearted. It was the last thing he wanted to think, but you fully iced him out even used your money to push him further away.
It was dumb. You were beyond frustrated at you dad for making decisions for you. You tried to fight against everything your dad blocked for you, so when you found out he blocked out Deku, you just wanted him more.
So you snuck out of your dorm and to his. It was a challenge but support gear made everything easier. When you finally climbed over the railing, you made eye contact with him. He was just doing homework at his desk, and you assume his training made it easier to sense people cause he was looking dead at you the second you were up.
"What are you doing here?" he said as he ripped open the sliding glass door. His face full of confusion as his brain rattled for a reason you'd show up.
You side stepped past him and into his room, admiring the All Might posters that decorated the entire place. "Isn't All Might like your dad?"
"No- What? Why are you here? I thought you didn't wanna talk to me."
"My dad made my body guards brush you off, not me," you browsed his room, picking up a Silver Aged All Might Figure that was on his desk, "You have so much stuff."
"Stop looking at those," he nudge you out of the way, taking the figure from your hands and carefully putting it back down, "Can you just talk to me?"
His shoulder blocked your view of the desk easily, reminding you of his growth spurt in second year. He actually filled out his uniform and shirts now. It gained your attention when you made his suit, purely out of a designers perspective, but now? The dim glow of his lamp lighting the room and casting shadows perfectly, it caught your eye.
You let out a groan, "So much talking, can't we just forget it?" you spun on your heel, looking at his neatly made bed now. It was also covered in All Might sheets. "Okay seriously- when does it get weird for you?"
"What are you-" you looked over your shoulder to see his face flush, "Those are back-ups."
"I know a lie when I hear one," you teased, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed in a small spin. Stretching your legs out in front of you and leaning your arms back. "What do you tell all the girls? 'Sorry I just really like my teacher'" you mocked.
"Shut up," he frowned as he grumbled, "I liked him before he was my teacher or mentor."
"Don't you have his quirk?" you asked absentmindedly.
He shifted how he stood, "Uh- used to yeah."
"Fuck- sorry, I just-" you were biting your own tongue at this point. You hated people making your illness you or just forgetting it entirely yet here you are.
"It's fine," he hummed out, looking at his sock covered feet, leaning back unto the desk behind him, "Why are you here though?"
The light hearted mood you were attempting to establish the moment you entered his space was entirely gone. An awkward silence filling the air as you just looked at each other.
"On the way here I kinda hoped you'd be asleep, so I wouldn't have to face you," you mumbled, rocking your shoes back and forth as a small distraction, "But of course, you're a night owl."
He hummed, giving you the space to talk as he just crossed his arms.
"So you saw a text about my dad saying something about my health- I'm not entirely sure, but I know you want to know," you were still rattled by your decision to see him right now, none of what you wanted to say was even thought over. "I'm chronically ill, that's basically all I know, it's an undiagnosed thing and doctors don't even have a clue what to do with me. My dad's worried about me and that's probably the message you saw." You shrugged.
"Are you going to be alright-"
You sighed, "I don't know, all I know is that it isn't cancer or anything that's common. I don't have any information so any question you'll want to ask has the answer of 'I don't know'."
He frowned, "That's stupid. The message said you were missing appointments though- couldn't those help you?"
"Those appointments were with the doctors that tell me the same thing every time, it's literally so stupid so I don't care to show up."
"There has to be-"
"There isn't, I've seen the top doctors and many of them, different specialties and all sorts of tests. There isn't an answer and there isn't a fix for it. Can we just drop it? We can talk more about it later or something."
He just stared at you for a moment, his mind obviously running wild with all the usual questions. Knowing him, he probably hated talking to someone who lost hope about something, and he was used to fixing it. That's not what you wanted, you didn't even know what you wanted.
"Alright," he sighed after a while, "You know- when I lost my quirk it was difficult too but I didn't lose hope."
"This isn't the same," you glared not wanting a lecture or for him to diminishing his issues to light yours or the opposite, "You can talk about it, but do not compare it to my situation please."
"Sorry," he mumbled.
You let out a frustrated groan, collapsing backwards on his bed, looking to the side and analyzing his room more. "Can we talk about the All Might sheets now?"
"Oh my god," you heard him push off his desk and come towards you, ripping the sheets of the bed and out from under you, just to toss them in your face, "Stop talking about them."
"Seriously though! What's with it all?" he heard your muffled laughter as he sat on the bed next to you. You brushed the sheets out of your face and sat up more to look at him, "You are an insane fan boy aren't you?"
He rolled his eyes, "I look up to him a lot, he saved so many people and I wanted to be just like him."
"Aw," you noticed the little spark in his eyes as he talked about it. You knew he was a nerd but not much more behind it. "You saved a lot of people too, you're a lot of people's definition of a true hero now."
"I know," he looked down at his hands, his fingers rubbing over the scars he got, "I just wish I could of done more."
You shifted how you were sitting, kicking your shoes off completely after having left them on, moving to sit crossed legged on his bed to face him, "Fair, but I don't think that cause you lost your quirk that you lost your ability to help others."
"I have the suit, yeah but-"
"It's not even the suit that you need, just you. The way you talk about others and have so much hope is enough to help others. Hell you could be a teacher and influence so many people that way too."
"I never even thought about it," he mumbled, "When I was quirkless before, I wanted to be a cop or something if I couldn't be a hero."
"That's one way to do it, there's ton of options," you tried to cheer him up, seeing the obvious frown on his face. It felt wrong to see, he was always smiling.
"Yeah," his voice was small, hardly convinced, "It's just not the same as what I could of been."
You knew exactly what he meant and it pained you. "Maybe I shouldn't of been so harsh about not comparing us, because I understand that completely."
"Hm?"
"I wanted to be a hero before my health went to shit. Had the perfect quirk for it and everything- but my body isn't healthy enough to allow me to use it anymore. So I understand not having looked ahead for other options yet, it's hard. But there's things out there for you," you were sharing just enough to try and ease him. You've never seen him look so down.
"That's horrible, I'm sorry- I shouldn't-"
"Deku, it's fine. I'm trying to help you- not talk about me."
"Right- sorry, I just haven't really talked about it. Seems wrong to be upset with the outcome of saving the world."
"That- I can't relate to, has no one tried helping you or talking about it?"
"All Might has, I just feel bad cause he's dealt with it too. Doesn't feel like the right place," he moved to face you more, "thanks for listening."
His shoulders moved to tense, his body language changing and signalling you to change the topic. It was small but noticeable.
"Anytime," you smiled.
"Are we good again? Friends?" his face was still uneasy, the environment of his room heavy with the talk you've had.
"Sure, why not," a smile broke free on his face at that, small but noticeable. So you sat there like fools until your phone buzzed loudly. Taking it out of your pocket you read the name, "It's my dad, I should head back and try to convince one of my guards that I was just with Mei or something."
"Do you want me to walk you back?" he offered, standing up alongside you as you shoved your shoes back on.
"Nah, can't risk them seeing you. But I'll let you know what happens, wish me luck," you smiled as you moved to open his sliding glass door.
"Jesus- take the normal way out of here. You don't need to risk falling more than you have to," he grabbed your arm and moved you away from the door, locking it. "Here, I'll walk you down at least."
"Fine."
"Thank you."
You walked to his door, noticing the All Might rug placed as a welcome mat, pointing to it and giving him a 'seriously?' look.
"Stop teasing me about it," he opened the door and nudge you outside and to the elevators.
"I just don't know how you could bring a date back to your dorm with that, like some merch is fine but this much-"
"Good thing I'm not bringing back dates- I've had that stuff since I was in middle school, I can't just trash it."
You made note of what he said, you mind catching it for a reason you didn't want to grasp at yet, "It probably costs a fortune too."
"It does," he sighed, pressing the button to call the elevator.
"If your fan boy heart every screams for a limited edition version, just let me know," you teased.
Not expecting his head to snap towards you with all the light in the world in his eyes, "Really?"
You laughed, "Sure," you patted his arm, "you deserve it."
The elevator doors ding open as your hand was on his shoulder, revealing the empty elevator beside for one person.
"Kacchan? What are you doing up?" Deku asks shocked.
"Headache," Bakugo had the same level of shock in his features before he looked at you, schooling his expression, "Why's money bags here?"
"Hey, I finance a lot of your suit so don't even."
"She was just stopping by to talk," Deku covered over your voice, not wanting to rile him up.
"To talk?" he squinted before laughing, "Ah, to talk. Understood."
Deku paled, "No- That's not-"
"I wouldn't talk with someone who had All Might's face on their bedsheets," you defended, shooting a playful jab while trying to get Bakugo to cool it.
All Bakugo did was laugh harder and tease him even more. Deku frowned, "Kacchan you have a matching set."
Their bickering started getting worse, leaving you to laugh as you joined Bakugo to go to the first floor. And giving short goodbyes as they continued talking.
When you got back to your dorm and settled everything with the guards, you sent Deku a text.
All good btw!
Next time you come into the shop we should just talk about jobs or something, I can't get your suit upgrade till next week.
Night!
Part 2/7 of this : all parts here : M.list
-Hints at end of manga spoilers-
---
Izuku Midoriya felt bad for thinking you were a stuck up bitch, but now he feels bad for snooping and seeing your text. Obviously you had a health issue or something of the sort, and he spent the entire time thinking the worst of you.
He needed to make it right, you've done so much for him so it was the least he could do. So he glued himself to your side.
"What's this stitching right here?" he pointed to a corner of his suit, he was running through his brain to get you to talk more, to spend time with you and have you open up.
You peered over his shoulder, pausing the work you were doing to give him attention, "Uh, not sure. So many people work on your suit that I have no clue who did what."
"What about-"
"Deku- This is the fifthteenth question you've asked in the last twenty minutes. What's up?" You cut straight to the point.
"Just thinking- like- this much detail has to be tiring-"
"Yeah, it is. But so is every other job and yours even more so. What's the point?" He'd been acting dodgy but he didn't think you'd pick up so quickly.
He looked around the room for an excuse, change the direction of the conversation, but when he looked back at you, you were just squinting and analyzing him.
"Do you need more work done or something?"
"What- no! I just wanted to learn thi-" he cut himself off, thinking this might be the best cover, "I just want new boots, it's not my style" He was lying and it felt bitter in his mouth.
Yet that lie continued, him coming in every week for a suit change just so he could talk to you more, offer a shoulder to you if you needed it.
You were missing all your dad's calls, leaving abruptly, and acting off. He didn't know you but it was clear you were going through something.
Especially when you just became more distant as he tried to get closer. After about two months of weekly visits, you snapped.
"Are you seriously only friends with me cause the money?"
"No- What? Why would you think that?" he stumbled at your closed off expression, arms crossed and defensive. He just asked for another change.
"Every week you just ask for more, do you have any idea how expensive this is? Even the minor changes."
"I- I'm sorry, I didn't know. That wasn't my intention," he stepped toward you to try and show how bad he felt but you only stepped back.
"Then why?"
He took a deep breath, this was his opening whether he liked it or not, "I just saw the text your dad sent-"
You scoffed, "So your friends with me cause you feel bad for the sick girl? Classic hero." You snatched the notebook that had all the notes of his suit, shoving it in your bag carelessly rather than you're typical caulated way.
"No thats not it at all-"
"Save it," you glared.
"Why'd you give me the suit?" he blurted, having grabbed your bag and pinning it to the table
"Huh? Do you want more? Just leave. I'll pay for the suit still since you're a good hero-" you tugged your bag to try and free it with no use.
"I don't mean that- I just want to be your friend because of the reason you had behind giving me the suit-"
"Because it boosted your ego?"
"Can you shut up? You gave me the suit out of the goodness of your heart. You volunteer with puppies out of the goodness of your heart. That's what I started to love."
"Love? Really, that's what you call pity? Just cause you know I'm sick doesn't mean shit," you tugged the bag free, using your harsh words to loosen his grasp.
You walked away immediately, you weren't a project for someone to fix.
