pro hero!katsuki and his wife on vogue beauty secrets
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the camera in the expensive hotel bathroom was mounted on the counter in front of you, while you explained your skincare and makeup routine, occasionally throwing in stories about your husband, who was still snoring away in the bedroom, while you got ready. that’s what you assumed he was doing anyway.
“i don’t usually wear eyeliner because it takes a ridiculous amount of time, but we’re going to try anyway and if i screw up, at least it’ll be free entertainment for everyone watching, and for my husband if he wakes up which probably won’t be until later.”
spoke to soon.
not even a minute later, the bathroom door that was once closed behind you is pushed open and there stands katsuki, who clearly woke up a minute ago considering his hair is a mess and his eyes aren’t fully open. he scratches at his stomach while the staff behind the camera cheer at this sudden appearance.
you being yourself, also snort at his less than put together appearance and he grinned at the sound.
“am i supposed piss on camera?”
“don’t say that!”
“what? everyone does it. even you.”
“tsuki!”
collective laughter from behind the camera. you laugh too despite your earlier scold, and he doesn’t waste a second wrapping you up in his tight death grip and lifting you off the ground in a spin while you yelped, and the initial laughter from the staff now turned into “awww!”
“i’m trying to do makeup and you’re ruining the video!”
trying to keep the ‘annoyed’ demeanour, you gave him a light smack on the arm as he set you back down. that only made him grin wider, and his dimple appeared on his right cheek. you would call him cute if he wasn’t interrupting.
“pretend i’m not even here.”
except he was here, and it didn’t look like he was planning to let go of you given his grip hadn’t faltered once. katsuki reminded you of meena the elephant from sing sometimes, the way he took up space without even trying, and how we inserted himself in situations that didn’t require his presence. to add to the irony, he stamped a kiss that lasted longer than necessary on your cheek, and when he pulled back there was a small wet patch on your face that earned him a less than amused look from you.
“it hasn’t even been 2 minutes and you’re already ruining my work.” you sighed, reaching for your makeup brush again and dusted over his gross wet patch.
“don’t be so grumpy i’m just showing you how much i love you.”
wow. he was really playing it up today, and you knew it was all with the sole intention of embarrassing you in front of the camera. he was successful so far. your grumbling was cut off as he suddenly swiped the brush in your hand.
“let me help you with this.”
“tsuki!”
your protest fell on deaf ears once again. katsuki didn’t relent but instead, began applying your makeup on for you. on your cheeks and nose and tickling the brush underneath your chin, just to get a reaction out of you.
you would be lying if you said he was messing it up because surprisingly he wasn’t. usually, he was on cleaning duty when you couldn’t find it in you to do it yourself. he would wipe your face with makeup remover while you slept like the dead. but given this new predicament, you might just exploit him into doing your entire routine for you. he interrupted after all. not like you were holding him against his will. he chose this.
“you’re actually really good at this..”
“i’ve been watching you do your makeup for the past 5 years. i have it all memorised.”
that part was true. he had been watching you do your makeup since you started dating. he proposed after only 2 years which yes, was definitely too early, but katsuki wasn’t the type to wait around when he wanted something.
“well since you’re here, do my eyeliner too.”
katsuki bent on his knees to get eye level, and just like a professional makeup artist, he glided the eyeliner pen over both your eyes with his other hand. carefully, drawing the wing slowly, as if he was handling a priceless art piece. to him, you were a priceless art peice. he finished cleaning up any mistakes, and kissed the tip of your nose as a signal to open your eyes.
“how does that look?”
looking at yourself in the mirror, you checked for anything that might need to be fixed. nothing. he did a far better job than you, and under a minute. he wasn’t new to this he was true to this.
“how did you do it so perfect? i’ve been practicing since the age of 12 and you get it right after a few months.”
“prayer and a steady hand.”
“prayer?”
“you would beat my ass if i messed up.”
“no i wou- yeah i would.”
another round of laughter rang through the bathroom, and echoed off the walls except this time, it was louder and clearer. katsuki was much taller and bigger than you. he was also notorious for his temper, so the mental image of you, who was the complete opposite of katsuki, beating him seemed absurd. it wasn’t impossible however, because you’ve demonstrated before in the past that you’re more than capable of beating him into submission.
since marrying you, katsuki had become another version of his dad. walking on eggshells around his wife. the cherry on top being, the fact he was exactly where he wanted to be. he loved that you could become violent in a matter of seconds. just like his mom did when when katsuki was younger. his very own tung tung tung sahur was the woman he loved most.
to wrap up the video, he applied your lip gloss on you which he also tried to kiss off you and pouted when you shoved his head aside.
“thank you for watc-“
“next video is gonna be my makeup routine, right?”
he didn’t wait for an answer. katsuki lifted you over his shoulder out the bathroom, while the camera crew lost it all over again and clapped, as if it was a performance, rather than a makeup tutorial. you made a mental note to have him do your makeup from now on, and to also lock the door next time. or not.
a/n: definitely ooc and bootycheeks but i like to headcanon that katsuki isn’t afraid of a tiny bit pda with his wife and uses it to tease her. ignore the fact idk how to use commas…requests open
No one told you how emotionally draining nursing Dynamight would be, especially when you started dating him in secret. Bickering over medicine turned into makeout sessions, which turned into fixing one another as quickly as possible when his friends visited.
He loved to make your blood boil, almost as much as you loved to make his. Today, it was a dispute over his burns, almost fighting you over his burn cream.
“Katsuki!” You hiss, pursing your lips in that way he loves. “Stop fighting me on this.”
“M’not putting that shit on my body. I’m a fuckin’ tank, I don’t need that.” He simpers. You glare at him as he holds your arms, the cream container left useless on the ground. “Katsuki…” You grin, leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. Soft cherry chapstick tastes on your tongue as you deepen it. He lets out a harsh breath, dropping your arms and bringing your face closer to his. His breath hardened like there was a shortage of you, and he couldn’t stand himself if he let you go. “Damn you.” He mutters into your mouth. You pull away, leaving Bakugou a whiny mess as he presses hot, insistent pecks to your collarbone. “Come on…” He groans.
“Ah, ah, ah. Promise me you’ll attempt to get better first.” You interject.
He curses you softly.
“...Fine.” He mumbled, finally.
“Good.” You grin, leaning back in for another kiss.
You’ve been staring at the same page for ten minutes.
Numbers blurred together, formulas tangled in your head, and the word probability might as well have been written in another language. Your stats notebook was open, highlighter uncapped, calculator abandoned halfway across the desk like it had personally betrayed you.
Your leg bounced under the table.
“Okay,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing your temples. “I can do this. I can—”
A sharp knock cut you off.
You frowned.The door opened before you could answer.
Bakugou stood there with a paper bag in one hand and a drink in the other, eyes already narrowing at the sight of you hunched over your desk like the weight of the universe was on your shoulders.
“…You’ve been in here for hours,” he said.
You blinked. “Have I?”
“Yes.” He stepped inside without asking, kicking the door shut behind him. “And you look like crap.”
“Wow. Thanks,” you sighed, slumping back in your chair.
He snorted, then set the bag down on your desk, pushing your notebook aside just enough to make room. The smell hit you immediately your favorite takeout. Warm. Comforting.
“You forgot to eat,” he added, gruff. “Again.”
You stared at the bag, then up at him. “…You brought me food?”
“Don’t make it weird.” He crossed his arms, eyes flicking back to your open notes.
“You’re studying for that stupid stats midterm, aren’t you?”
Your shoulders sagged. “Yeah.”
He clicked his tongue. “Figures.”
You laughed weakly. “I don’t get it, Katsuki. I swear I try, but my brain just… shuts off. I’ve reread this chapter like five times and nothing’s sticking.”
He watched you for a second longer than usual, red eyes softer than you expected.
Then he pulled out the chair next to yours and dropped into it.
“Move.”
“Huh?”
“Move your damn notebook over here.” He reached out and tugged it closer himself. “You’re not doing this alone.”
Your heart skipped. “Wait really?”
“Tch. Obviously.” He cracked his knuckles. “You think I’m gonna let you spiral over some numbers?”
You hesitated. “But… you’re busy.”
He shot you a look. “You’re my priority. Now eat before I start yelling.”
You smiled despite yourself and opened the bag, taking a bite as he flipped through your notes. He leaned closer, pointing at a formula with his pen.
“Okay. This part? You’re overthinking it.”
“I am?”
“Yeah. Look think of it like explosions.” He smirked when you looked up at him.
“Variance is basically how much things spread out from the average. Big explosion? Stuff goes everywhere. Small one? Tight cluster.”
“…That actually makes sense.”
“Of course it does. I explained it.”
He walked you through it slowly, step by step, never raising his voice, repeating things when you asked without a hint of annoyance. When you stumbled, he corrected you gently and gruff encouragement.
“You’ve got it. Again.”
“Okay… so first I—”
“That’s it. Yeah. See? You’re not stupid.”
Your chest tightened at that.
Hours of pent-up stress suddenly crashed down all at once, and your vision blurred before you could stop it.
Bakugou noticed immediately.
“Oi.” His voice softened. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
“I—I don’t know,” you whispered, a tear slipping free. “I just really stressed about failing.”
Before you could wipe it away, he leaned in, thumb brushing your cheek with surprising tenderness.
“Stop your crying,” he murmured. “I’m here to help, remember?”
You sniffed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He stayed close, forehead nearly touching yours. “You’re working hard. That’s what matters.”
You exhaled shakily, nodding.
After a moment, you smiled at him, small but sincere.
“…You’re the best, Suki.”
He froze.
“…Say that again and I’m leaving.”
You laughed softly, wiping your eyes. “You won’t.”
“Tch.” His ears turned faintly red as he looked away. “Damn right I won’t.”
He slid the notebook back between you and tapped the page.
“Now. One more problem. You’ve got this.”
And for the first time all night, you actually believed it.
summary: after you get hit with a strange quirk, you swap bodies with your long time crush and hero partner todoroki shouto. somehow, every single thing that could possibly go wrong goes wrong and chaos ensues. idea dump here
genre/content warnings: afab reader, reader has some sort of telekinesis quirk for plot efficiency (i got lazy sorry), suggestive, periods, reader is implied to have a heavy flow but it's really just for the plot to ensure maximal crack, mentions of blood, swearing, fluff, crack, todoroki is a little shit (when is he not)
wc: 5.9k (oopsies this is my longest fic to date)
note: this is for @andypantsx3's pretty boy summer collab! (sorry it's late andie) it is also one of my sponsored fics for @ficsforgaza's fundraiser! i couldn't fit all the scenes i wanted into the fic without ruining the flow, so go check them out and sponsor them if you want to read more! also everyone needs to go say thank you to @thelov3lybookworm for giving me the push i needed to stop making excuses and find solutions so i could post. thanks girl <3
i'm not sure how i feel about the ending, but i think it's as good as it's going to get! since i haven't written in a little while and things have been tough, likes, reblogs, and comments would be so so appreciated, and will help me get the next fic on my list done faster!!!
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The first thing you notice when you finally emerge from the depths of your slumber is how comfortable you were. Everything feels just right, your pillows are cool against your neck, and your sheets hold the perfect amount of warmth; enough to keep you cozy, but not so hot that your sweat is creasing the silky sheets and making you feel sticky and gross.
The second thing you notice is the very large, very male hand sprawled on the pillow next to your head. A deep male voice lets out a surprised cry as you jerk back, the hand moving with you.. It takes you several moments to realize that it had come from you.
Your bare feet thump against the wood paneled floor as you stumble out of bed disoriented and realize where you are for the first time. Namely, not in your bedroom.
Glancing around in confusion, you wonder what the hell happened, and how you ended up somewhere so nice.. The space itself is fairly bare, but you can tell that all of the furniture inhabiting it is expensive. From the sleek wooden dresser to the geometric modern light fixtures to the insanely high thread count of the sheets, everything screams tasteful luxury.
Where are you? You definitely feel asleep in your own bedroom. Reaching up you rake your hair out of your face and freeze. Instead of the familiar texture and length of your own hair, you’re greeted with short, silky soft strands that definitely did not belong to you.
Mussing your hair to make sure you’re not imagining things, you glance down, and for the first time notice some inexplicable things.For one, the ground is a lot farther away than it normally is, and for two, last time you checked you did not have washboard abs, or a male anatomy.
The entire situation was confusing, and you were still slightly sleep-addled. Despite that you knew that you needed to find a mirror. A quick glance around the room located one in the corner and you hurry over to it.
Sliding to a stop you grip the edges of the little stand, frost spreading from your right hand to cover the wood while you gaped at your appearance.
Intense heterochromatic eyes stared back at you, shock filling them. Your hair was a unique mess of red and white strands, the two colors mussed with sleep. With those distinctive features, plus high chiseled cheekbones, a jawline that could cut stone and a slim yet unfairly muscular body there was no doubt about it.
You were Todoroki Shouto. At least, that’s whose body you’re currently inhabiting. His very shirtless body.
BZZZZZT BZZZZZZT
Saved from having to fight your urges to poke at his abs by the noise, you jump, swinging your gaze around in search of the origin.
BZZZZZZT BZZZZZZT
A simple black phone flashes on the otherwise empty nightstand (does he seriously not even have a lamp??), the caller i.d. sending you scrambling across the room to the phone.
Fumbling in your haste, you manage to swipe and pick up the incoming call from your cell phone.
Your mind is racing a mile a minute. There were only two ways to get into your phone. The first was the password, but even you forgot it most of the time. It sat safely tucked away on a post it in the safe you store all of your important documents in. The second was through face i.d. and the only person who could unlock your phone with their face was you. And since you were in his body, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that he….Lifting the phone to your ear you speak hesitantly.
“Todoroki? Is that you?”
“Y/N?”
It was unnerving to hear your voice saying your name from the other end of the phone,
“What happened?!” You’re a little mortified to hear the hysteria lacing your words, but you can feel the panicked adrenaline flooding your veins as your body goes into fight or flight.
“I believe that the quirk we got hit with yesterday caused us to switch bodies. However, it is highly unlikely that it is permanent so it will be fine.” Even though it’s your voice, something about knowing Todoroki is on the other end was reassuring enough that some of the tension bled from your shoulders.
“That’s good.” You sigh, rubbing your face. There’s a mildly uncomfortable throbbing coming from your lower half, and you absentmindedly reach down to rub at it, forgetting you weren’t in your own body. Brushing against a bump in your gray sweatpants, you shiver as a familiar feeling spreads through your lower stomach and something twitches.
“Todoroki?” Your voice suddenly gets a little higher, the hint of hysteria from before returning to the normally deep monotone. “We have a problem.”
“What is it? Is something wrong?”
Ignoring his questions, you stare in growing horror at the very obvious tent in the front of the sweatpants you were wearing. You have no idea how you didn’t notice it earlier, but now that you’ve seen what’s going on down there you can’t help but be extremely aware of the uncomfortable pressure.
“Y/N? Please explain what’s going on. I’m growing concerned.”
“I-” You splutter, unable to form a coherent sentence. Finally you gather your wits enough to say something. “It’s uh, it’s hard.”
“What do you mean? What’s hard? Oh...” He trails off into embarrassed silence.
“OH?” You can’t handle this. “What do you mean ‘oh?!’ Do something!”
“Like what?” He sounds a little defensive. “What am I supposed to do from here?”
“I don’t know!” You’re shouting now. “But you have to do something! How am I supposed to sit here with your massive boner?!”
There’s a loud crash on the other end of the phone, and you jump. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” He answers a little too quickly, but his voice still retains his usual impassivity. “Anyways, returning to the problem at hand. It will go away on its own after a little while. Unless you would rather handle it yourself-”
“No!” You wince as you practically shout into the phone. “I mean, no it's okay. I feel like that would be unprofessional.”
You can hear the amusement in his voice as he responds. “I feel like this entire situation is rather unprofessional. After all, I did see your breasts this morning.”
There must be something wrong with your hearing because there’s no way he just said what you thought he did. In such a nonchalant manner at that. “Wha-What?” Embarrassingly your voice cracks as you rack your brain, frantically searching through your memories of the night before. Then it hits you.
“You went to bed without pants, a shirt, and a bra last night.” He informs you matter of factly, and you must be going crazy because there’s no way that that’s smugness you’re picking up from him. “Judging from the temperature of your apartment I’d say that your air conditioning is broken. You should probably get that fixed.”
You’ve completely forgotten about the boner you’re currently sporting due to the mortification of it all. Of course the one time the two of you switch bodies it just has to be the day your AC broke and you went to bed in nothing but a pair of striped cotton undies.
A small part of you mourns that you weren’t wearing something sexier, but the larger part of you is screaming that he is your boss. Sure you’ve been friends for years, and you have a not so little crush on him, but you are his subordinate. This was going to make things so awkward in the office. Hopefully once this is all over you can go hunt someone with a memory erasing quirk down to wipe his mind. But maybe not yours. You kind of want to remember the toned planes of his abs and the impressive bulge in his sweats.
Giving yourself a shake you chastise your internal voice. Absolutely not. That would be an invasion of his privacy. In fact, you should put on a shirt right this second to respect his privacy, not that he didn’t walk around with half of his hero suit burned off from time to time. Wait. A thought suddenly occurs to you.
“Wait. You have a shirt on now, right? You put on a shirt before calling me.” You laugh nervously, because of course he has more common sense than that. It’s not like he would just sit on the phone with you while your tits were hanging out, right? Right??
“Well no.” Your heart falls out of your ass and you accidentally sear a handprint into the edge of his nightstand at his casual answer. “It’s uncomfortably warm in here and without the use of my quirk I am unable to regulate my body's temperature. Aside from that, I don’t know where you keep your shirts so I prioritized calling you to discuss the situation over going through your personal belongings.
That all sounds perfectly reasonable and you would have fallen for it except for one little thing. “Todoroki. I know for a fact that I was too lazy to put my laundry away yesterday and there is a stack of clean t-shirts sitting on the end of my bed right now.”
You hear rustling -is he still in your bed?!- as he leans forwards to check. “Oh. You’re correct. My apologies.” There’s more rustling and the sound of fabric sliding over skin as he pulls a t-shirt over his head. “It’s on now.”
“Thank you.” You pointedly ignore the fact that he did not sound the tiniest bit apologetic, filing it away to revisit later. For now, the two of you need to discuss what to do next. “I appreciate it. What’s the plan now though? I think we should meet at the agency as soon as possible and go from there.”
“I agree.” He seems to lack the sense of urgency currently consuming you as he hums in agreement. It’s incredibly annoying. “We should probably give each other directions on what to do, and where to find the things we need.”
On second thought maybe it’s better that he’s calm and thinking clearly because that was an excellent idea. “That’s smart. I keep a pad of paper and a pen on my nightstand to jot down reminders if you want to use that. Where do you keep your paper?”
“Check my bookshelf.” The telltale sound of paper flipping told you that he found the notepad as you crossed the room and stopped in front of the simple wooden bookcase. “Where is it on your bookshelf?”
“I think I keep a notebook and a pad of paper on the middle shelf.” He sounds distracted and a little uncertain, but when you stoop down to check (it’s weird being this tall) you find a simple yellow legal pad and a black pen. “I got it.”
“Okay.” The sound of a book closing accompanies his words and there’s a hint of some unidentifiable emotion lacing the two-syllables.
Not thinking much of it you shrug it off, sitting down down at his desk and listening as he tells you where keeps his car keys, hero suit, and other necessities. You ask a few follow up questions, jotting down what cabinet he keeps his cologne and deodorant in, before launching into your own instructions.
“The first thing you need to do is start the coffee machine. Trust me. My body will not be happy unless you give it at least three cups of coffee or like two big energy drinks before 9 am. Next…” After you’re sure he has understood the importance of caffeine, you move on, explaining where you keep your clothes, car keys, and shoes, as well as where you parked your car.
“Don’t worry about makeup or hair products or anything while you’re getting me ready. I know there’s a lot on my bathroom counter but it’s not necessary. But you do need to go into the first drawer on your left when you’re standing at the sink and grab my anxiety meds. They should be in an orange prescription bottle. Only take one. And please for the love of god do not forget to put a bra on. You got all that?”
“I believe so. Is there a specific outfit you want me to wear or should I just choose?” You stop and think. Left to his own devices there’s no knowing what he might put you in (his first hero costume proof of his abysmal sense of fashion) so it would be best to give him some guidance. “Could you just wear a casual sweater and some jeans?”
“Yes. Let’s get ready and meet at the agency in about an hour. If that works for you.” There’s not much writing on the yellow legal pad, the black scrawl of your handwriting barely taking up half a page. Okay. It isn’t that much. You can do this. “That sounds good to me.”
“Oh, I also think it might be best if we kept this from the general employees at the agency for the time being just to reduce drama. Is that okay with you?”
“Of course.” More than okay actually. Some of them were aware of your not-so-little crush on him, so it would spare you some teasing and interrogation.
There’s a couple seconds of awkward silence, and you get the feeling he wants to say something more, the tension crackling through the speaker of his stupidly expensive phone. Opening your mouth, you start to say something then realize you don’t really have anything to say. The awkward silence persists a couple seconds longer before he wishes you goodbye and hangs up.
Click. Click. Click. Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick. You didn’t even realize that you had started clicking the pen open and closed, a nervous habit of yours. Sheepishly you place the pen down on his desk and stand. Sure the vibes were kind of weird at the end there, but it’s not like anything worth making you nervous happened. The situation might not be ideal, but it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world. You could handle it. The worst part was already over. You just had to meet him at the agency, figure out what to do with the rest of the day, and wake up in your own body tomorrow. Piece of cake.
Gaping in horror, you realize that this was not, in fact, going to be a piece of cake.
Getting ready had been easy enough so you had arrived at the agency a few minutes before your agreed meeting time, which fortunately/unfortunately put you in the perfect position to witness the walking shitshow.
You had been idly sipping at a cup of coffee, marveling at how many packets of sugar it had taken to make it acceptable to his taste buds when he staggered in, catching the eye of pretty much everyone in the lobby.
Hunched over weirdly, he staggered in, wearing a pair of jeans that rode just a little too low to be professional and a very white, very sheer shirt that was meant to be layered over an undershirt. Or, at the very least, with a sturdy, modest bra underneath.
Alas, you can only stare in abject horror at the sight of what everyone else would assume was you stumbling in, your nipples visible from across the room, the bra that should have been on your body clasped in one hand.
You’re pretty sure you disassociated for a few seconds from sheer mortification, standing there unmoving for several seconds. Once you had processed (and gone through the seven stages of grief multiple times) you were bolting across the floor, seizing his (your?) arm and dragging him down the hall and into the family bathroom where no one could see.
Slamming the door shut behind you, you shove Todoroki/yourself into the small space, wincing as you watch him stumble in your body. Did you always seem this weak and small in his eyes? The sound of the lock clicking as you shut the door reminds you of the current situation and you turn on him, rage emanating from every pore of your being.
“I. Thought. I. Told. You. To. Put. On. A. Bra.” You’re hurt, and seriously pissed off, neatly trimmed nails digging into your thighs as you grip your pants. Humiliation courses through your body, pulsing behind your eyes in tears that you will not let fall, no matter what. “Is this some kind of joke? Are you trying to embarrass me-”
“No.” It’s disconcerting watching yourself speak and move, but subtle mannerisms remind you that it’s Todoroki you’re looking at, not yourself in the mirror. “I wouldn’t do that to you, I swear.”
“Then what is this?” You wave your hand at your body, flinching at what others must be whispering about you. “Do you want people to think I’m some sort of crazy person who goes around practically flashing people at their workplace? Someone who has no sense of decency?”
“Of course not.” His tone is as even as ever, but you can tell that he feels bad. “People here know what type of person you are. I’m sure they’re more concerned than anything.”
The fabric of his blue hero suit unscrunches as your hands drop to your sides, chest heaving as you take a deep breath. “I hope so.”
There’s vulnerability in your voice, and for a second you find peace in the quiet of the moment before he ruins it. “Besides, I’m more worried about my reputation than yours right now.”
You look up indignantly. “Why? I did everything you asked, and I’m fully dressed so I’m not sure why you’re complaining.”
He winces as your voice raises (maybe the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet) but he hides it quickly. “I mean, from their point of view, they just watched me forcibly drag my subordinate off and locked myself in a bathroom with her. They probably have all sorts of unseemly ideas about what I’m doing right now.”
You freeze. Shit. You hadn’t even considered what it would look like to the others. “I’m so sorry. We can explain this to everyone. Like you told me, everyone here also knows you, and that you would never do anything inappropriate.”
“It’s fine.” He gives you a genuine, yet slightly strained smile. “I’m not too concerned. However, your body doesn’t feel great.”
‘What’s wrong?” You reach out and touch his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.” Glancing down, you sigh. “First things first let's make you decent. You literally brought the bra. Why aren’t you wearing it?”
“The best way I can describe it is it’s similar to the time I accidentally ate Bakugou’s extra spicy curry, except it’s not in my stomach. It’s more in my abdomen. And I meant to wear it, I just couldn’t figure out how to get it on.”
“Okay. I can help with that.” You motion for him to lift his arms. “Take off your shirt.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Is now really the time?” The bathroom is silent as you give him a death look. “It’s my body. There is quite literally nothing about the body you are currently inhabiting that I do not already know about. Now, shirt. I’ll help put the bra on.”
Understanding that you were not in the mood, he hurriedly pulls the shirt off, and you’re presented with the sight of your bare torso. Ignoring the strange intimacy of the moment (it was literally your own body you had no idea why you felt weird) you help him slip his arms into the straps, then motion for him to turn around.
He complies, and that’s when you see it. The relatively small, but somewhat noticeable stain on your crotch in the back of your pants. That’s why he wasn’t feeling good. Your body started your period.
The clasp of the bra dangles in your hands as you stare at it, evaluating your choices. One. You could pretend like nothing is happening but chances are he’s going to have to pee at some point during the day so he’ll find out eventually. Plus the stain wasn’t small.
Two. Be the mature, rational adult you are and calmly explain the situation. After all, there was nothing to be ashamed of. It’s a perfectly normal, perfectly natural, biological function that comes with being a female.
And three. Just leave and go crawl into your bed until this nightmare is over. Let him deal with it himself.
Option number three was looking pretty good there for a moment and you were calculating how fast you could escape the agency without drawing attention when Todoroki spoke.
“Everything okay? Why aren’t you doing the hook things?” Snapping out of your trance, you clumsily clasp the back, taking several tries to get all the hooks in the same row. Patting it, you tell him to put the shirt back on before taking a deep breath. “Hey, Todoroki?”
Wisps of hair emerge from the neckline of your shirt, followed closely by your head as he pops into your shirt. “Yes?”
“So like, it’s going to be okay and I swear I’ll help you and I’m sorry you have to deal with this but please whatever you do, don’t freak out. Promise?” He tilts his head slightly, regarding you with confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you say it’ll be okay I don’t see why I would feel the need to freak out.”
His calm response puts you somewhat at ease, and you just rip the bandaid off. “My body just started it’s period. With you in it. That’s why your abdomen was hurting. It was period cramps. Don’t worry, I’ll get you some advil soon. There’s a small stain on the back of your pants, but it’s not bad yet. However, it’s really heavy on my first day so we’re going to need to get a tampon in and a pad on asap.”
A blank stare is your only response. “What…is a tampon? And what does heavy mean? Also, does it always hurt this bad?” A small furrow appears between his brows, and you can tell he’s overthinking.
“Normally it’s only this bad for a few days, but I’m used to it by now.” You reassure him, grabbing a tampon and pad from the free dispenser on the wall. “And to answer your question, a tampon is basically a fancy roll of material that goes up there and absorbs the blood.”
You’re doing your best to remain calm and unbothered on the outside, but on the inside you’re losing your mind because there was absolutely no way that you were about to teach your crush how to insert a tampon into your cooch because you managed to swap bodies on the worst possible day.
He looks at you pensively as you approach him with the hygiene products. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”
You pause, considering. How did you want to do this? It would be weird for you to put it in yourself, even if it was your body. The packaging crinkles in your hands as you turn the items over in your hand. The easiest route would be to have him just put the pad on, but you also didn’t want him to deal with the mess and discomfort of sitting in a pad.
“Alright.” You clap your hands, the sharp sound echoing off the clean linoleum floors. “We’ll get a pad on first, then we’ll try the tampon. Ready?”
“Yes. How do I do that?” Okay. You can explain this. It’s not that complicated. “First things first, pull down your pants and underwear and sit on the toilet.”
A rustle of clothing and the click of the toilet seat against the porcelain bowl told you he had complied. “Wait, but like, don’t look okay. Keep your eyes averted.”
“Understood.” You choose to ignore the amusement in his voice, instead grabbing another pad and giving him a demo. Feeling guilty about the waste, you rip open one of the packages and pull out the pad. It’s thick, and made of cheap material like all free pads in public bathrooms tended to be.
Holding it up so he can see you demonstrate peeling the tab and unfolding it before peeling the sticky back off and showing it to him.
“Basically you just have to remove the covering and stick it to the bottom of your underwear. Make sense?”
He nods, so you pass him the pad and watch him carefully peel back the appropriate backings and smooth it into the center of your panties. His eyes gleam at you hopefully as he looks up, and when you tell him he did a good job you could have sworn he preened.
“Good job Todoroki.” A subtle frown pulls at his lips. “So for the tampon-”
“Shouto.” He cuts you off, looking disgruntled. “Call me Shouto.”
“I-What?” Thrown off guard by the sudden demand request you blink at him. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to what’s going on right now, but you’re my boss. It doesn’t seem right for me to address you so casually.”
“But you call me Shouto while we’re at work.” He stubbornly refuses to give the point up, clinging to it like a dog with their chew toy. “How is it any different?”
“Because-” You give him an exasperated look. “Some idiot decided to make his hero name his first name, so when he’s at work his co-workers are forced to use it. I don’t call you Shouto as in Todoroki Shouto. I call you Shouto as in Pro-Hero Shouto. That’s the difference.”
“But we’ve known each other for years.” He’s very matter of fact, clearly missing the point. “I would say we’re close enough for first names.”
He’s unbelievable. Of all the things to focus on right now why on earth is he choosing to argue over how you address him? “Of course we’re close. I consider you a good friend. But I wouldn’t say we’re close enough where it’s appropriate for me to address you by your first name when you’re my boss.”
“I’m currently in a bathroom with you right now, in your body, sitting on a toilet with no pants, on your period. I don’t see how we can possibly get any closer.” He had a point, and you just wanted to get this whole disaster sorted out as quickly as possible so you conceded. “Fine. Shouto. Now, will you please listen to me so we can get this over with and go on with our day?”
Using demonstrative hand motions and trying not to show how flustered you were you explained how to put the tampon in. Finally you finish, and hand him a tampon. He unwraps it, then hunches over in an awkward position trying to see what he was doing.
A red flush crawls up your neck as he quite literally examines your pussy, your insecurities running rampant, thoughts you’ve never had before occurring. Like, what if it looks weird? You didn’t exactly have a huge frame of reference, and all of your past experiences were horny hookups so you literally had no idea what it looked like from his point of view. He was probably repulsed by it. If everything that already happened hadn’t ruined any chance you had with him this was the final nail in the coffin.
A quiet splash cuts through the silence of the bathroom, interrupting your downward spiral. Looking up, you lock eyes with Todoroki, who’s frozen guiltily on the toilet.
“What just happened?”
“I, er, well I’m not sure.” Your eyes narrow. “What was the splash?”
“I did my best.” He sounds defensive. “I had a hard time finding…it…and it’s not easy to line it up and I think I did it wrong because as soon as I put it in it kind of just…spat it back out?”
Gaping at him, you’re at a loss for words before a loud, unflattering cackle rips itself out of your chest. The self-consciousness caused by the strangeness of the moment and being in the presence of your crush fading away as you reverted to treating him like you did in high school.
“Oh-Oh my god!” You’re doubled over, almost crying with how hard you’re laughing. “You can’t find it. You can’t even find the hole. You must be so popular with the ladies.”
As you laugh, a strange sensation builds in your stomach, and next thing you know it feels like you’re getting sucked into a vacuum and shot out the other end. Your vision goes black and fuzzy, the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom hurting your eyes when you finally open them.
When you finally open them and find yourself staring into the unimpressed face of one Todoroki Shouto that is.
Seeing his face again instead of staring at yours is a relief, but it’s also unfortunate because now you are the one perched on the toilet, your pants hanging around your ankles and a tampon floating around in the toilet water beneath you.
The two of you lock eyes, and you realize that now you’ve both returned to your own bodies it’s even worse that he’s seeing you half naked (don’t ask you why it just is somehow. Maybe it has something to do with him seeing it from his point of view instead of yours?).
Embarrassment floods your face, and you yell at him to turn around, hurriedly grabbing another tampon and putting it in before using your quirk to retrieve the tampon from the toilet and dumping it into the trash. A rushed tug has your pants back on, and the two of you stand in the bathroom not moving or speaking. Finally you break the silence.
“Uh, well, anyways. I’m glad this all worked out, sorry for the inconvenience and how weird it was. I’m going to head home and enjoy my day off now. Have a nice day!”
Not giving him the chance to respond, you dart past him and out the door, ignoring him as he calls your name. Yeah right. Have a nice day? More like have a nice life. There was no way you could ever show your face around him again. Maybe you could call Kyoka up and ask her if she needed a new hero at the agency she shared with Denki.
Unfortunately, life doesn’t always go as planned, and you wake up the next morning to your phone buzzing. You called in sick the night before, partially because your cramps were really bothering you, and partially because you were avoiding Todoroki.
Blearily, you roll over, pawing at your phone before lifting it to your ear. “Hello?”
“Good morning.” Immediately recognizing the smooth, deep voice belonging to none other than the one man you were actively trying to avoid, you do the only logical thing and hang up immediately.
A couple seconds later your phone rings again, and this time you let it go to voicemail. The sharp trill of your ringtone reaches you through the pillow you pressed over your head, alerting you that he called several more times after that. Finally the calls stop, and you emerge from under the pillows, beating back the strange sense of disappointment rising in your chest.
Ping!
The sound of your phone chiming startles you, causing you to drop it. Picking it back up, you check your notifications with bated breath.
(1) New Message From: Todoroki Shouto
Scared to read the message, you hesitate to click on it, having no idea what to expect. Your thumb hovers over the banner, the light washing over your skin as you work up the courage to check it.
Ping!
Your phone lands on your carpet with a plop as you accidentally drop it over the edge of your bed, not expecting it to go off again.
Ping! Ping!
Cautiously, you poke your head over the edge of your bed, glancing down at the illuminated lock screen. You let out an internal screech of horror.
(4) New Messages From: Todoroki Shouto
Unable to deal with the agony of not knowing what he said any longer, you scoop your phone up and tap the notification, scanning the messages, your heart dropping further and further the more you read.
Todoroki Shouto: Did you just hang up on me?
I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes. Do you want anything?
*image attached*
Also: are these the chocolates you’re fond of? I asked my mother and sister and they told me they enjoy chocolate when they are menstruating.
Those are, in fact, your favorite chocolates, but as much as you wanted them you wanted him at your apartment in fifteen minutes even less. The sound of aggressive tapping filled your room as you typed out a response at breakneck speed, praying to whatever was out there that he wouldn’t actually come to your place.
You: Good morning Todoroki-San. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was you and hung up because I was half asleep. It’s sweet of you to think of me, but those are expensive. Also, I’m taking the day off today so is there any possible way the matter you have to discuss could wait until tomorrow? Thanks!
A couple seconds after you hit send, the little label beneath the message changed from “delivered” to “read.” Then radio silence. Anxiety bubbles up in the pit of your stomach? What does read mean? Did he agree with you? Is he still coming? Too drained to deal with the emotional turmoil this was causing you, you rolled over and pulled your covers up over your head. This was a problem for future you.
Drifting off, you were awakened a short time later by your phone chiming once, then again a few minutes later, and the sound of your doorbell ringing. Surely it wasn’t…Half-closing your eyes to shield against the harsh glow of your phone, you unlock it.
(2) New Messages From: Todoroki Shouto
Todoroki Shouto: I’m here. Open your door.
I didn’t want to tell you over text, but you aren’t responding. Bakugou says I have romantic feelings for you and I think he is correct. He also said you’ve been “a mooney-eyed moron” for me since we were in high school. If that is true and you do feel the same way, please let me in. I would like to see you and care for you while you are on your cycle.
Three dots appear, signaling that he’s typing. A couple seconds later, your phone chimes again, not even giving you a moment to process the previous messages.
Todoroki Shouto: Our former classmates also unanimously agreed that I am, in fact, popular with the ladies. I’ll forgive your comment if you let me in. The old lady who lives next door to you is giving me suspicious looks.
You blink. Rub your eyes. Squint closer at your screen. The words didn’t change, and neither did their meaning. And Todoroki wasn’t the type of person to joke around like this. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and your pulse thundered in your ears as you realized there was only one thing left to do.
You had to get out of bed and let him into your apartment.
as always, please please please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from any of my taglists. tysm for reading, and i hope you enjoyed it!!
Fluff | Hurt/Comfort | Early Relationship Sweetness
You never thought you’d see this moment.
You never thought he’d let you.
Mezo Shoji had always been strong, steady, a pillar of quiet reliability in your life. You had fallen for him easily, naturally, completely, drawn in by his kindness, his protective nature, the way he always thought of others before himself.
So when he finally asked you out? You had been over the moon.
But now, weeks into your relationship, there was one thing still between you.
His mask.
You never pressed him about it. Never made him feel like he had to remove it.
But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious.
Not because of what he looked like, but because of what it meant.
Because showing his face wasn’t just an act of physical vulnerability.
It was him giving you a piece of himself.
And tonight?
Tonight, he was ready to give it to you.
The two of you were sitting together at the edge of a quiet river, away from the city, away from prying eyes.
The moonlight shimmered across the water, casting a soft glow on the both of you.
Shoji had been silent for the past ten minutes, his shoulders tense, his fingers gripping his knees a little too tightly.
You knew something was wrong.
So, like always, you waited.
Waited for him to find the words.
Finally, he let out a slow breath.
“Y/N… I want to show you something.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
“Okay,” you said softly, watching as his fingers moved toward his mask.
He hesitated, just for a moment.
You reached forward, placing your hand over his.
His six arms tensed slightly, all of them curling inward, his body shielding itself out of instinct.
You squeezed his hand gently.
“You don’t have to.”
Shoji swallowed, shaking his head.
“No… I do.”
And then, slowly, carefully, he pulled down the mask.
The first thing you noticed was his scars.
They ran along his mouth, his jaw, twisting his skin in ways that made your chest tighten with an ache you weren’t ready for.
You had known, of course. He had told you before—about the stares, the whispers, the cruelty he had faced as a child.
But knowing and seeing were two different things.
The second thing you noticed was his hesitant expression.
He was watching you carefully, his deep, golden eyes flickering with something raw, something afraid.
Like he was waiting for the rejection.
Like he had already convinced himself it was coming.
And that?
That broke you.
Because all you saw was him.
Mezo Shoji.
The boy who always made sure you walked on the inside of the sidewalk.
The boy who always reached for you first in a crowded room.
The boy who carried the weight of the world on his back, yet still held you like you were something fragile.
“Shoji…” you whispered, reaching up.
He flinched, just slightly.
You paused.
“Can I…?”
He hesitated, then gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Slowly, carefully, you traced your fingers along his jaw, your thumb brushing over the scars.
His breath hitched.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek.
His entire body went still.
You pulled back just enough to see his expression.
His golden eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted in shock, his brows furrowed like he couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard.
“You… you don’t have to say that,” he whispered, voice barely above a breath.
You frowned, your heart aching.
“I’m not saying it because I have to. I’m saying it because it’s true.”
Shoji’s six hands twitched, like he wanted to pull the mask back up, to retreat, to hide.
But you didn’t let him.
You caught his wrist, holding him there, your fingers lacing through his.
“You don’t have to hide from me, Shoji. Ever.”
Something in him broke at that.
A shaky breath. A slight tremble. A look in his eyes so raw, so open, so vulnerable that it made your chest feel too tight.
Then—slowly, cautiously—he leaned in.
His forehead rested against yours, his six hands moving to cradle your back, your waist, your shoulders.
Like he was afraid you’d slip away.
Like he was trying to memorize the way you felt in his arms.
“You really mean it?” he whispered.
You cupped his face, thumb brushing along his cheekbone.
“Every word.”
A slow, shaky exhale. Then—finally—a small, tentative smile. “Thank you.”
And when you kissed him?
He didn’t flinch. He didn’t hide.
He just held you close and let himself be loved. From that night on, Shoji never wore his mask around you.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ i'd be too cold without you - part 1 ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
♡ summary: you and izuku are study group members for a bio class, but you've always hoped for something more. thankfully, one night might make that true.
♡ pairing: izuku midoriya x reader, college AU
♡ tags: no warnings, just fluff :) but the next couple of parts may or may not have some smut ;)
♡ notes: hi besties! here's part 1 for this story. I actually wrote the entire thing out already before posting, so if it abruptly cuts off, i'm super sorry, but the second part should continue off just where this one leaves off. the whole thing is 16 pages so im trying to find a good cutoff, but everything will be uploaded into ao3 right after anywho, so either way i hope you all enjoy! :)
Your alarm screams, piercing the sweet peace of your sleep. One long sigh and several fumbled moments later, you finally locate your phone, swiping blindly across the screen to kill the noise. “8 A.M/” Just reading the time made you more tired. You rub your face, sink your head back into the pillow, and groan.
“Absolute mistake, signing up for this class slot,” you mutter to the ceiling as you finally swing your legs out of bed, the cold tile stinging your feet. With every class that passed, you regretted signing up for such an early class. But then again, what choice did you have? You needed the class to take bio lab semester, or at least that’s what you had to tell yourself every time you got ready for the class.
As you trudge on over to the dorm bathroom, you try to review last class’s lecture in your head. “Wait, was the Calvin Cycle the one that happens in the stroma or the thylakoid? No, wait, maybe it was the light-dependent reactions that...ugh...what-fucking-ever, I give up,” diagrams blurring in your head. “Sophomore year of college, and I feel like I’ve only gotten worse at studying,” you think, begrudgingly splashing water on your face to hopefully jumpstart the day.
After heading back to your room, you don’t even bother looking in the mirror. Snores from your roommate echo through the room as you pack your backpack. “Another day, another slay, I guess,” you say to yourself before heading out into the hall.
Thankfully, the walk to the lecture hall was only 15 minutes; Lord knows if it was longer, you’d have skipped way more lectures than you already did. You tried going through the slides in your mind again, but the sound of your notifications brings you out of your thoughts. Shuffling through your pockets, you find your phone to see that it was your group chat with your bio group.
Hey can someon e sign my name on the attendance sheet? thxxxx a bunch - kaminari
Everyone had to choose four people groups to do classwork with; without a group, your classwork wouldn’t be graded. Luckily, exactly three other people were sitting next to you when the professor shouted that rule out on the first day of class: Kaminari, Izuku, and Mineta. All boys wasn’t your first choice, but you didn’t know anyone else in the class, so it was your best shot.
Kaminari was a biology major, turned education major, now business major; you were sure he’d probably change his major two more times before the semester ended. Nice guy, but his ‘study strategy’ for the class was just ignoring the lectures entirely and cramming at your groupstudy sessions, which did exactly zero favors for his grades.
Thankfully, your professor let the rest of you still work as a group, which was great because Izuku was the only one you actually enjoyed working with. He was a biochemistry major on the pre-med track, so you two related a lot since you were a neuroscience major
Then there was Mineta, who was honestly just a total creep. He barely showed up to lectures, only the study sessions. When he did show up, he spent more time making weird sexual comments than actually opening a book. You silently cheered when he dropped the class. Thankfully, the professor let the rest of you stay together as a group, which was a relief because Izuku was the only person you actually liked working with.
He was a biochemistry major on the pre-med track, and as a neuroscience major yourself, you liked being friends with someone with similar goals and classes as you did. It always seemed like he was involved in a billion other activities, but he never failed to miss a text from you. Study sessions with him made you actually like bio, and he always went out of his way to help you with homework if you needed it.
You hoped he’d come to class today as you answered back in the group chat.
yeah ill sign you in, just sign me in next time im tired bro :)
Finally, you reach the lecture hall, settling down in your usual seat. Somehow, you managed to arrive 8 minutes early, which gave you just enough time to decompress. “Ugh...should’ve just picked up some coffee before coming in, so fucking tired,” you grumbled while flicking through Instagram.
“Well, it’s a good thing I remembered picking some up huh?” You look up to see Izuku standing up next to your seats, two coffees in his hand. “Got your usual order, iced chai latte,” he said with a million-dollar smile. “You are my savior,” you say, taking the drink as he sat down next to you. “I don’t even know how you drink straight black coffee. At least add some ice to it or something.”
“Just because it fucks up your stomach doesn’t mean it fucks up mine,” Izuku replies with a laugh, sipping his drink.
“But thank you so much, for real, because I wanted to die after trying to go over yesterday’s lecture. I didn’t even know it was remotely possible to cover so much in just one fucking day,” you whine as you chug the latte, hoping it’ll give you some semblance of energy.
“No, it was actual torture for me too. I barely got through half of the Calvin cycle before I gave up. I’m pushing studying it till we meet up for group study at this point.”
The sound of your professor’s voice brought you both out of your conversation.
“Alright, everyone! The sign-in sheet is being passed around, so please make sure to sign and do not sign in for your teammates; remember, it’s not fair to those who do show up! Now, let’s move on to today’s lecture. So you’ll remember last class we talked about...”
You tuned her voice out, zoning out on thoughts of the rest of your classes. A slight tap on your hand brings you back to reality, and you look down to see Izuku passing the sign-in sheet to you. With a smile, you take the sheet from him, fingertips barely grazing. The feather touch sends a jolt through your hand, but you brush the feeling off quickly.
You couldn’t deny that Izuku was attractive. Broad shoulders, nice smile, curly hair; your type to a T. It was hard not to let your feelings get the best of you whenever you both hung out, especially when he was so kind and sweet to you. “We’re just friends,” you thought, chanting the mantra you always told yourself, moving focus to the lecture.
You tried to write notes as fast as possible, scribbling down whatever you could in the little time you had. It always seemed like the class lasted up until the last second, and today was no exception. Students for the next class had already started trickling in while you tried to pack up as quickly as you could.
“Oh my god, she always goes so long, there’s literally no time to even pack up and leave before her next class comes here,” you say to Izuku, cramming your notebook into your backpack, scrambling to pick it up along with your drink.
“Here, just give me your drink, silly, I’ve got you, just grab your bag,” he says, taking the drink out of your hands. It was things like that that made your heart skip a beat. But you just pushed that thought aside per usual, heading out of the lecture hall with Izuku.
“So how’s your lab going? I know last time we talked, you mentioned your PI has you working on protocol paperwork, so is that going good?” you ask Izuku as you both make your way out of the building.
Izuku looks at you with widened eyes. “Oh, I’m surprised you remember!” he said with a chuckle. “But yeah, it’s going well. I still have a bit to finish up. Thankfully, it’s just a draft, so as long as I do the framework, I think Dr. Yagi will polish it before submitting it. What about you and Dr. Aizawa?”
“I mean...you know how Aizawa is. You get out of his lab what you put in, and the work is cool. I feel good about the work, like he’s been making me practice cell cultures and Western blots for this presentation. But I have to say, it’s left me exhausted. Between the lab and classes, there’s no time to relax.”
“Work-life balance is important, though; you’re going to burn yourself out at this rate, Y/N. You gotta take some time to wind down, silly. Otherwise, one of these days you’re gonna die from exhaustion, and what am I gonna do without my coolest friend?” Izuku says, ruffling your hair. “What are you up to next, goose? Don’t you have class?”
You did your best not to think about how his nickname for you made your cheeks warm. “I am heartbroken to report that my philosophy class has been cancelled. Something about my professor having the flu. Obviously, as you can see, I am distraught that I cannot continue my academic prowess for the day,” you say sarcastically, the biggest smile painting your face.
“Uh huh. I’m sure you are. Since you’re free, though, want to grab some food at the student center and hang out for a bit? I’m guessing you haven’t eaten yet either. I mean, no pressure, obviously, just if you're down.”
“Yeah, of course, dude, I’d love to! Sandwiches okay with you?”
“Sounds good to me! It’ll be my treat, and don’t bother changing my mind. We’re going to get you charged up for the day!” he says, flashing a smile. It amazed you how cheery he could be at any time of the day; you really admired it. Whether he was tired or not, he was always this beacon of sunshine, and his happiness was infectious.
The two of you kept talking and catching up until you eventually made it to the student center. The line at the sandwich shop actually wasn't bad for once. A few minutes later, you both grabbed your food and found an empty table. You plopped down in your chair with Izuku sitting right across from you.
“I have to say this has got to be the best food on campus,” you say, diving into your sandwich.
“Hmm, I think I could make a better sandwich. You should come over to my room sometime so I can make you one,” Izuku says, mouthful of food.
“Sure, buddy, keep telling yourself that. But speaking of rooms, you just reminded me. I’ve gotta fill out that housing form for Thanksgiving. I really don't need my RA walking in on me while I'm changing or something,” you laugh. It could be your mind playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn Izuku’s cheeks turned slightly red for a second. “I actually need to turn mine in, too,” he said. “I’m staying on campus to log some lab hours. Plus, I don’t really celebrate Thanksgiving anyway, so it’s not like I’m missing out.”
“I mean, neither do I, so twinsies, first off. But second, I’m glad you’re staying! At least there’ll be someone on campus that I know. Literally last year, it was so quiet. I swear there was probably a tumbleweed fucking rolling around somewhere, it was that empty. Also good to know you haven’t submitted it either. I know break starts in like 2 days, and we’ve got the weekend ahead, but I feel like if we submit it before the end of the day today, we’ll be good, right?”
“I mean, what other choice do we have? We might as well just knock it out now. That way it’s off our plates, and we can actually relax for the day,”
You let out a laugh.“Honestly, not a bad idea. Let me pull it up,” you say, grabbing your laptop out of your bag. After a second of clicking around, you find the link. “Okay, got it. I can just fill it out for both of us and send you the copy, if that works? Probably faster that way.”
“Thanks so much! You’re an angel,” Izuku says, and before you can even respond, he’s sliding his chair over until it clicks against yours. His shoulder was barely brushing against yours, but the contact felt electric through your sweatshirt. Suddenly, the noisy student center feels miles away, and it takes everything you have to keep your eyes on the screen and actually fill out the form.
After using every ounce of willpower in your body, you finish filling out the form. “Alright! I’m done with mine. Do you want me to do yours now?” You look over to Izuku, hoping he wouldn’t notice how flustered you were.
“Yep, sounds good to me! Let me take a look at what’s needed,” he murmurs, bringing his face closer to the screen, now inches away from your own. You’re almost didn’t want to even glance his way; you know that if you catch his eye this close, any chance of keeping your cool is going to go right out the window. Curiosity kills the cat, and you steal a quick look.
His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he scanned the form, and from this close, the overhead light caught his dark hazel eyes, making them shine behind a frame of long, black lashes. You’d never noticed the dusting of freckles across his cheeks until this exact second, and you already adored them. You bet if you turned your lips every so slightly, you’d be ableto catch his own. Honestly, it was a struggle not to just reach out and kiss that focused little frown away.
Izuku’s voice suddenly cut through the trance you were falling into. “Alright, I think the only difference between mine and yours is the name, building, and room number. So if you could just put down Izuku Midoriya, Slate Hall, Room 217, I’d really appreciate it!”
He beamed another one of those smiles at you, and you were convinced your heart was actually going to explode in your chest. “He’s just far too cute, fuck,” you thought, fingers slightly fumbling as you typed in his info, sending it to him as soon as you finished.
A quiet ping signaled the email’s arrival. Izuku looked down at the notification, and the reflected light of the screen caught the grin spreading across his face. “Again, I hope you know you’re the absolute best,” he said, stretching his arms. He pushed his chair back before standing up. ”I think I’m headed back to my room in a little while; I need to take a nap or something after all that review. Do you want to head to the dorms together or just gonna hang out a little longer here?”
“Hmm..,” you hummed, tilting your head to the side. On one hand, it’d be nice to just relax at the student center, but then again, it’d be nicer to get comfy and do that from the comforts of your coziest blankets. “You know what, yeah, I’ll come with you, plus I think the bus is like 5 minutes away anyway, so might as well.” You pack your backpack, slipping your laptop and the leftovers of your sandwich inside.
Tw: none, just some crack(ish) part 2 of this drabble
He's nervous. His leg bounces with every second that ticks on the clock, impatiently waiting for you to exit the doctor's office and give him the news.
For the past weeks he's been adamant he follows you at your doctor's appointments — the only way to quench that little, annoying voice in his head that makes him go paranoyd. He's never gonna admit it, not even with a gun pointed at his temple, but he's afraid you're gonna hide something from him again. I mean, you pulled this stunt once for shielding his immature ass from responsibilities, who's gonna assure him you're not gonna do it again?
He knows he's in the wrong to think this way — you promised no more lies and no more hiding stuff, but what if something is wrong?
What if the baby is sick? What if you're sick? Maybe the stress of disguising the pregnancy caused issues with the baby's development...
It never happened before that the doctor asked you to stay and discuss the baby and let him wait outside.
He's panicking.
When you walk through the doors back in the hallway he's already on his feet like he has a spring attached to his butt.
“Is everything...okay?” he asks. His sudden fidgeting almost startles you. “Yes, everything is good. I'm fine, the baby's fine...” you leave the sentence open and he knows there's something else you have to say but you're hesitating.
“And...?” he prods. You stay quiet and his inner anxiety is flaring up — if you have something to say, say it now!
After some more minutes of nerve wracking silence you finally decide to speak up — your words are anything but comforting to him.
“Uhm, there's something else... — you say almost embarrassed — I tried convincing the doctor to tell you, vouching for me, this but they insisted I had to do it.”
His heart rate spikes. He clenches his teeth and fists to ground himself, to not show you how scared he is.
“Okay, what is it?” he encourages you to speak — even though his expression and tone don't help his case.
“Um...I suggest we go back to the car and we'll talk about it at home” you propose, hand on your growing belly to somehow seek comfort.
“I want you to tell me now” he demands.
You try to divert the topic, suggesting once more that you'd rather tell him in the safety of your home and not in a hospital hallway where anyone can hear, but he has none of it.
“Please, just tell me!” he pleads, almost shouts in pure frustration — hands grabbing the hems of his coat instead of your shoulders, as if in fear of hurting you.
Another few minutes of silence pass. You open you mouth and he braces himself to what horrible news you're about—
“We're having twins.”
Huh?
“Twins?” he repeats, blinking, eyes wide and incredulous. You nod.
“As in not one... but two?”
You nod again.
His expression of pure confusion it's almost comical. “Twins…” he repeats, rolling the word on his tongue as if foreign to him.
You stare at him worried, thinking that maybe you should've suggested he sat before telling him.
You yelp in surprise when he faints, looking like a snow angel on the hospital's floor with his arms and legs stretched out.
The doctor and a few nurses poke their heads in the hallway, sighing softly at the exaggerated reaction of another soon-to-be father.
You sigh too.
You knew he was gonna make a scene, just not this kind of scene.
“I can't tell if he's happy or traumatized about the news. Either way we're gonna stay in the hospital a while longer it seems…”
