꒰ synopsis! ꒱ : moving in by yourself for the first time and finally getting accepted into your dream college—it should be an amazing experience, right?—turns out you’re in fact not by yourself. deal with it.
꒰ content! ꒱ : roommate!au, establishedbkdk, quirkless!reader, reader has a mom, fluff, slow burn(?), kats, izuku and f!reader are all in college, working at a cafe, crack, slight angst (?), drinking, suggestive comments, smut, violence/blood, drugs, smoking + vaping!
: C.1 : MAKE IT WORK - meet katsuki and izuku, your unexpected roomies! get along—or not?
: C.2 : HOT AND READY - working at a cafe shouldn’t be this hard…unless your coworkers are really cute. <- in review…
: C.3 : SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS! - get drunk and laid w/ your two roomies at a frat party! [18+]!
: C.4 : WHEN THE RAIN FALLS - avoid the obvious—and the two most important people in your life. if you can, that is.
: C.5 : WHAT WE LOST - work things out with the boys while also trying to juggle final exams, with your mother visiting you ALL at the same time.
: C.6 : SUMMER WATERS - back to friends! now let’s go to the damn beach!
: C.7 : IN GIRLS WE TRUST! - have a girls day and sleepover with mina, hagakure and tsuyu!—which may include your complicated feelings.
: C.8 : ITS BRUTAL OUT HERE - after an attack on your campus, you end up in the hospital along with katsuki and izuku. maybe you three can finally stop pretending.
: C.9 : BLURRED LINES - go on your first date! at the end of the day, you three need each other now. [18+]!
: C.10 : LIVING THE DREAM - get comfortable! this life you three made is yours—cherish it. [18+]!
Hello! this was a requested fic from quite some time ago. I'll be catching up at some point, i'm in my final year of university so update will be more spaced out for the next few months.
Content Warning: Discussions of paternity, some medically accurate potentially a little gross conversations and mentions and depictions of anxiety and panic.
This story includes and Polyamorous relationship
Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.
It was killing them. You’d think with how tired and unwell Shouta looked and how uncomfortable Hizashi seemed that they were the pregnant ones. Shouta was the most stressed you’d ever seen him, not because he didn’t want a child but because he was scared he’d be a bad father. You’d stayed up many late nights with him, looking out at the dark city skyline through the living room window, him drumming up ways he’d fail as a father and you countering them with rationale and reassurance. He wanted to be there, he wanted to be present. You all knew he was around the least; he was a teacher during the day and a full-time hero at night. Hizashi was usually home at night, at least.
Hizashi wanted two things. The first, to be as good of a dad as he knew Shouta was going to be. The second, to know which one of them had knocked you up. Hizashi, unlike Shouta had full confidence in Shouta’s ability as a father. Hizashi also had confidence in his own ability to be a father. Yet, and you assumed it was natural, the two of them compared themselves to each other constantly. They both felt like they had to fill a role that was usually filled by only one parent, a father. In regard to his second wish: It was driving him insane. Hizashi didn’t want to know for the reason of ascertaining who the “real” dad was, it was more of a who’s quirk we might have to deal with.
While it’s not a given that a child’s quirk is going to be the same as your parents, it’s still a possibility. A possibility some families count on so greatly that they arrange marriages based on quirk compatibility to keep their bloodline strong and on the top tiers of society. Your little mismatched family never worried about that sort of thing, whether this child was a telekinetic like you, made your ears bleed when they threw a tantrum like Hizashi or could shut his dad up like Shouta, or even if they were quirkless you’d all love them with every fiber of your beings.
This was going to be one lucky kid.
Hizashi was squirming around in his chair, his legs going from being slung over the arm rest to being tucked underneath him. Shouta was as still as a statue save the tip of his boot where his toes were wiggling with nervous energy. Hizashi shifted his position for the umpteenth time, his legs swinging around towards Shouta, their knees bumping. Shouta shot out his hand and gripped Hizashi’s knee, holding him in place.
“Stop squirming.” He grumbled.
Hizashi stilled and slumped back, splaying his limbs out dramatically. “Babe, come here.”
Hizashi looked slide long at you through his lashes and a grinned, waving you over.
“Sure, yeah. Hold on, lemme just-” you placed a hand under your swollen stomach as if that would help carry any of the weight and hopped off the examination table. You landed in a wide stance, almost losing your balance from the nearly one-foot drop. It was pitiful, since you’d started to really show it was almost like all of your hero training went straight out the door. Mind you, your hips were wider than they’d ever been, and you were twenty-seven pounds heavier than you’d ever been. You also constantly had a little critter kicking you in your bladder, which was very new.
You waddled towards Hizashi, the smallest of grins pulling at Shouta’s mouth as he watched you. He found your knew range of mobility highly entertaining. You stopped just short of Hizashi’s wildly splayed out feet, nudging one with the toe of your shoe.
“Can you stand behind me for a sec?’ Hizashi sat up straight. “I wanna try something.”
“Okay?” you raised an eyebrow but waddled around him anyways.
As soon as you were behind him he leaned back in his chair and propped his head back on your belly. He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. “Now, I’m comfy.”
You stared down at him as he fought a stupid grin, trying to keep his face serene. Goof. “I’m glad our kid is already good for something.” You sighed, stroking the top if Hizashi’s head and smoothing his hair back.
Shouta blinked, his brows knitting together. “You are such a dad already.”
“Been practicing!” Hizashi quipped, shooting up and snapping one of his fingers into a gun.
Shouta rolled his eyes but couldn’t help himself and chuckled.
The door to the examination room opened and in walked a kind looking older woman with deep smile lines and dark shining eyes. She looked like she worked with babies for a living, there was a pure unadulterated kindness about her. “Mrs. Y/L/N?”
“Hi, yeah that’s me.” You turned towards her and stretched out a hand.
She took it with a smile and eyed the two men in the chairs. “Which one of you is the father?”
The three of you had agreed when this all started happening for the sake of appointments that weren’t with doctors you’d be seeing regularly Shouta was going to be the father. It was hard enough explaining that the three of you were together romantically anyways, add a baby in and the fact that you don’t know which one of them was the biological father and you have a proper scandal. Out of the three of you Hizashi was the most recognizable and had the closest thing you could equivalate to a fan base so Shouta felt that in order to keep a sense of privacy around all of this he’d be the place holder father. You’re doctor and OB GYN both understood the whole situation, of course they needed to. Both had been in favor of a paternity during the pregnancy, which you had wanted to fore go until after the birth. At this point in the pregnancy it would have to be an invasive test and with this being your first child the three of you were so nervous you didn’t want to even consider taking that chance.
Shouta cleared his throat and stood up, reaching out for a hand shake as well. “That would be me.”
Hizashi shrunk down in his chair, he had agreed to this prearrangement, but it still stung a bit. You placed a brief set of comforting pats on his shoulder and he straightened up a bit.
“Right,” the kind eyed woman took his hand. “everything seems to be going well and on track. If you wanted to go over specific we could step into another room?”
She eyed Hizashi, and curious look about her. It was probably rare to see a friend sitting in on any sort of appointment. You shook your head and spoke up.
“Oh, he’s here to help us keep track of everything. I have total baby brain and Sho gets… overwhelmed.” You smiled at her reassuringly, trying to normalize the situation.
“O-okay.” She looked down at the clip board in her hand and skimmed the page. “The only thing I would say is out of the ordinary is that all signs are pointing to a later birth than expected. This is completely normal, of course. There are a few options if we feel as though the little one if take their sweet time a little too seriously such as inducing birth.”
You looked down at your swollen belly, your little one didn’t even stir. Why would they want to leave anyways, the little shit was swaddled in warmth and had a direct line to all the caving food you were constantly supplied with. Aside from the waddling, miniscule range of motion, tiny bladder and hip and back pain you didn’t mind being pregnant too much. The boys were totally whipped, which you tried not to take too much advantage of. But you were human and Hizashi was getting really good at baking.
“Inducing how?” Hizashi questioned from his seat.
“W-well,” she looked at you and Shouta for approval before speaking, Shouta nodded. “there are ways to induce labour through hormonal injection as well as more slightingly invasive physical ways, however it all depends on the circumstances. We prefer the less invasive ways for new parents generally speaking.”
Hizashi nodded and there was an awkward silence for a few seconds. The woman looked between the three of you then looked back down at the sheet and began tearing slips off along the perforated lines. “Here are your prescription cards, signed off by Dr. Onishi.”
“Thanks.” You took the slips from her outstretched hands and she slipped out of the room, you could have sworn her polite smile slipped from her face as she closed the door behind her. She sniffed you three out.
“Invasive?” Shouta mumbled. “How invasive?”
Hizashi shrugged as he stood up, grabbing your jacket off the end of the exam table to help you into it. You turned around and let him help you into it, even putting on a jacket was harder when you were this pregnant.
“They’ll stick a plastic hook up my vagina a pop the amniotic sack thing.” You explained, expecting full well the boy’s reactions.
Hizashi shivered violently and let go your jacket, shaking himself out like a dog trying to rid itself of water after a swim. Shouta’s nose flared and his eyes rolled to the side as he frowned.
“Is that painful?” Hizashi asked, his voice still shaky.
“No one on google really said anything about that but it’s safe to assume is they won’t talk about it, it’s not good.” You shrugged.
“Ew.” Hizashi stuck out his tongue like a kid tasting adult food for the first time.
“Yeah, can we uh, stop talking about this?” Shouta, if it had been possible, had paled out. Throughout the pregnancy Shouta had gone from the toughest out of the three of you to the one that was the most squeamish about everything. Sure, Hizashi was over dramatic and very vocal about his thoughts and feelings but he always had been. For Shouta, the idea of your body literally contorting to stabilize itself only for it all the end in hours of screaming, crying and otherworldly pain was too much. Normal injuries? Doable. Anyone could get hurt. Giving birth? That was something only you could do out of the three of you and he didn’t like that.
“Sure.” You smiled at him and he hooked his arm under yours as you all made your way out of the building to the busy street outside.
“What’s up for dinner?” Hizashi asked, pulling up his collar against the wind. The winter was blowing in and Japan was in the early stages of grey skies windows and cool winds, not yet covering in heavy snow and frozen streets.
“Um, I kinda forgot it was my night.” You muttered. If you hadn’t been the pregnant you’d have been subject to a somewhat sarcastic lecture at the hands of Hizashi, but you were practically untouchable now-a-days.
“Let’s just pick up something on the way home.” Shouta grumbled.
“I gotta fill my prescriptions, though. We can just go to the grocery store, there’s a pharmacy in the back.” You said.
“I don’t want to make you cook.” Shouta sniffed, the cold air making his nose run. “Plus, it’s cold as hell and the grocery store is refrigerated, I don’t want you getting sick.”
“Sho I can-” you started to protest.
“Dad has spoken.” Hizashi chimed in, wrapping and arm around your shoulder. “We can split, Y/n and I can head home a grab food on the way, and you can go fill her prescriptions?”
“Nice try, Mr. “I-wear- a jacket- all- the-time-for-fashion”. You go get the pills; we’ll get the food. I’m fucking freezing.” Shouta poked Hizashi in the forehead.
“I can’t help that I like the layered look, Sho.” Hizashi huffed. You turned to his and gave him a peck on the tip of his nose, a dopey grin spreading across his lips. God he was easy to butter up, he was such a glutton for physical affection.
You took off you scarf and wrapped it around his neck and handed him your prescription slips. “Your assignment Present Mic.”
“Aye-Aye, Ma’am.” He saluted dramatically.
“You own me a warm drink when I get home!” he added over his shoulder at Shouta who was already wrapping his arms around you as you waited for the walk signal.
Shouta was a furnace as the best of time and a miniature sum at the worst of times. You’d taken his temperature before, worried that he had fevers or worked himself sick in the early days of your relationship. He was always around the normal base line, he just radiated heat like crazy. You sank back into him and let his thick wavy hair curtain around your face. You looked up and make eye contact with his smoldering dark eyes, a soft smile on his lips.
“Hey.” You said.
“Hey.” He hummed into your hair.
“What do you want to eat?” you asked.
“Hmm,” she closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “something warm.”
The cars came to a halt and the walk chime sounded as the pedestrian light lit up. “Ramen it is.” you chirped and skipped awkwardly froward, your splayed hips not exactly made for such enthusiastic movement. He trailed behind you; your hand clasped in his.
The Ramen shop on the way was the kind of shop you couldn’t eat in; it was a thin rectangular shop with just enough room for a line and the counter. You had never minded before but lately the lack of seating options as you waited was less than ideal. You and Shouta had to make do with leaning into each other, him trying to support you but making a makeshift seat with his thighs while she leaned against the wall. The cashier rang a small bell and called your order number with a polite thank-you. You scuttled to the counter and retrieved the expertly packed bags of lidded ramen bowls.
When you made it back to Shouta he was staring down at his phone, his normal peaceful tiredness replaced by an annoyed alertness. He was frowning and pulling away from the wall.
“What’s wrong?” you asked just in time for him to look up at you.
“Uh, there’s an emergency call for heroes. Like, three blocks from here.” He looked as though if he hadn’t been waiting for you to return he’d have already dashed out of the door. It was in his blood, Shouta was a hero and until one the assholes had knocked you up so were you. The splayed hips somewhat dulled that itch to jump into action, but you could remember how it drove you crazy.
“Go.” You nodded. “I can get home.”
“Y-you’re- really?” he turned towards the door and you could see him winding up like a spring action toy.
“Yes, go!” you waved him off. Without another work he was off, the door swinging in the wake of his exit. Although you hated to admit it, this kid had changed more than just your body. You never worried like you did now. You were never so afraid od the average mission or call turning into something catastrophic, you were paranoid about patrols in good neighborhood and rescuing cats from trees. Shouta literally rescued a cat the other night and when he was telling you about it all you could see was him toppling out of the tree and getting hurt. Whenever one of them left for work they would be setting up times to check in, and Hizashi being the chronically late guy that he is had to suddenly start keeping track of time. You didn’t want to raise this kid without either of them and while you all knew full well that it was a possibility with the life you all lived, it still terrified you to no end.
You tried to calm yourself as you stepped out onto the street, people were still milling about, and there was no thirty-foot inferno to speak of so things couldn’t have been that bad. You waddled the rest of the way home, bags of soup sloshing around in your hands, trying to stay calm. You weren’t doing very well. Usually you had at least one of the boys with you or they were together but no doubt Hizashi also had gotten the message. You groaned to yourself, knowing full well he’d also responded.
Your hands were shaking, hoping it was just the cold you rooted around in your pockets for your keys. Getting them in the door was an experience, both frustrating and upsetting in the only the way a pregnant person can attest to. Were the tears running down your face because you couldn’t get the key in the door or because you were a walking rage pile or hormones and anxiety? You whipped angrily at your tears and shoved open the building door, warm air washing over you. At least it was warm.
The building got more and more blurry as you made your way to your apartment, tears fulling your eyes until the lights were just wavering streaks. You were huffing breaths into what felt like air starved lungs, sobs pounding against your cheat trying to break free. You choked them down and rushed through our door, leaving the ramen in the hallway as you slammed the door shut behind you.
You really didn’t feel like being very very pregnant and having a panic attack. You started to pace around, running your hand through the soft blanket across the back of the couch and pressing your palms to the cool counter top as you went back and forth between eh kitchen and living room. Some tears fell but your eyes dried and soon enough your lungs stopped convulsing for air. You were still shaking and a knot was still tight in your gut but you had for the time being subdued the panic. With this new clarity you went you your room and pulled out you professional phone, the battery low having not been used in weeks.
You had also received the distress signal:
10 Ave and 4 St. Grand villain activity: League of Villain members sited at scene of disturbance. Requesting all back up in immediate area. Priority: Containment.
League of Villains. You’re stomach dropped, almost painfully. You gripped onto the sheets of the bed as you slid to your knees, panic rising in your chest again. You knew they were among other heroes, that Hizashi wasn’t a frontline fighter and Shouta would have a horde of heroes trying the keep him in play. You knew this. You also knew them, and that they could be stupid. Shouta had climbed a Goddamned tree the other night FOR A CAT. He could have fallen and died for a CAT. You choked down another sob. Hizashi was always the centre of attention and he did it on purpose. What if he tried to distract the villains and got hurt doing it? He’d done that once before on a mission and came home with a nasty concussion.
What if it was worse this time? What if the League was more organized?
You choked on another sob.
Warm arms wrapped around you and you jumped, trying to pull away.
He brought a hand to your head and held you against his chest, scooting closer to you in his crouching position. He kissed the top of your head and rubbed circles into your hair with his thumb and held you like that until you were able to calm yourself. “What happened?”
“I got scared.” You sniffed. “And I’m pregnant.”
“Oh.” Hizashi chuckled, pulling back to look at you. His nose was still rosy from the cold and his hair was swept back in messy waves. “Sorry.”
“You should be.” You punched him the shoulder, once for every word.
“Ow!” he whined, holding his arms up in defense.
“You did this to me!” you wailed. Irrational, yes. Cathartic? Also, yes.
“I refuse to take ownership until we get that paternity test!” he laughed somersaulting away from you.
You were just about to give him a piece of your pregnant mind when you heard Sho enter the apartment and trip over a set of paper bags.
“Y/N?” he called. “Hun? Are you, okay?’
Hizashi jumped to his feet and darted out of the room, shouting wildly. “She’s angry!”
You tried to push yourself up to your feel but couldn’t, slumping back down onto the carpeted floor next to the bed. The threw your hands up in the air frustrated, all that panic from earlier having left your body. Being pregnant was a wild ride, whatever you felt was so strong and so consuming at the time, but it could fade just a quickly as it came.
“I’m stuck!” you pouted.
Shouta crept into the door frame, Hizashi hiding behind him. The two of them melting at the sight of you slumped, cross legged on the floor, belly swollen, unable to move. Shouta grinned, that same entertained grin from earlier. He made his way to you and grabbed your hands hauling you to your feet. You slumped into him, reaching out a hand to motion for Hizashi to join in. Not one to pass up a good group hug Hizashi happily wrapped his long gangling arms around you and Shout, ignoring your grunts and he squeezed.
“That didn’t take long.” You mumbled into Shouta’s chest.
“Illusion base quirk, I erased it and it turned out to be a bunch of low levels trying to make a scene to get away with some cash.” Shouta explained. “You okay?”
You nodded and hummed into his chest.
“You sure? There’s soup in the hallway.” His whiskers rubbed against your forehead.
“The baby got scared.” You muttered.
“Oh?” he hummed, as if in thought. He pulled away from you and knelt down, so he was level with you belly. “Listen up little one, there’s nothing in this world that your parents can’t handle so don’t so around worrying us like that okay?”
Hizashi stooped down and eyed your belly very seriously. “Especially, your mom. She’s already doing all the heavy lifting, dude!”
You dropped your face into your hands a laughed. Yeah, this was one lucky kid.
"izuku?" you called out, looking over your shoulder to see your boyfriend waltzing into the common room, "what're you doing up? it's... almost 10."
it was late at night on a friday. you had been asked by midnight to complete a task for an upcoming event 1-a would be participating in. since it was the weekend, you had taken the opportunity to finish your work now.
midoriya wiped his eyes, looking at you sitting on the couch, the light above you on as you wrote. "why are you still awake? i thought you were going to bed before." he spoke, setting himself down beside you.
you sipped your drink, leaning forward to place it down on the coffee table. "i'm just finishing some things. i want to get this done as soon as possible." you stated, feeling Midoriya scoot closer to yourself.
"mhm." he hummed, leaning back in his spot and leaning a bit to you, "i guess I'll stay up with you, to keep you some company."
you glanced down at him, grinning a bit before continuing to write on the slips of paper. you reply, "you don't need to stay up for me, izuku. training today was hard for you, i saw."
midoriya's head was now on your shoulder. you chuckled, brushing your fingers through his hair as your other hand kept moving the pen. He let out a soft noise, watching you work as the laptop in front of you played low music.
"you could just do this tomorrow morning, i'm sure you're tired as well." midoriya yawns, stretching his arms out.
you put the top paper to the side, picking up a new one and moving the ink around the surface. "how did you even know I was awake?" you questioned.
"i woke up and went to ask you if you wanted a drink." he claims, sitting up and leaning his head back against the couch, "i know you usually don't fall asleep until 11:30, because you're up on your phone. so i thought you'd want to come with me."
you nodded your head, setting the papers on the table before standing up. you take hold of midoriya's hands, pulling his tired body off of the couch. "come on, i'll make you some tea." you said to him, tugging him towards the kitchen.
as you started the kettle, midoriya sat at the bench, chin in his palm as he watched you move around.
so far, your relationship had been going steady and the two of you were as comfortable as could be around each other. it was like you'd been friends since birth. you two had only gotten closer as the months passed.
you leaned against the counter, facing him as you ran fingers through your hair. "i think in about half an hour I'll be finished. head back to bed after this, okay?" you told him, giving a half-smile.
midoriya only shrugged his shoulders. "i guess so. but try to actually get some sleep. i don't want you sleeping in tomorrow, you promised mina that you'd go shopping with her, remember?" he reminded you, making you chuckle and move closer to him.
"right, i won't forget." you hummed, glancing down at his lips for a slight second.
but before midoriya could call you out on it, you leaned more forward and connect your lips. a sharp inhale came from midoriya as he clutch his shirt, surprised by the sudden contact. however, the more you kissed him, the more relaxed he became.
as soon as he knew it, midoriya was kissing back just as softly as you had been. you left a hand on his cheek, your eyes closed as you took in the short moment.
you had pulled away at the beeping of the kettle. brushing your thumb against his cheek, you spoke, "wow, i never got a good night kiss from you before. "
as if dawning on him, midoriya shot up from his seat, instantly making a bee line for the exit. he mumbled out, "i should—should get back to bed now! good night, y—y/n!"
"wait, what about your tea?" you asked, pointing to the kettle.
but midoriya was already near the doorway. "don't worry about it!"
↣ bakugou katsuki:
he walked out to the yard of the dormitories. "hey, get inside now." bakugou shouted loudly, "it's winter for fuck's sake, it's cold."
you stood there in a fighting stance, heavy breathing as you practiced another kick. "give me another hour, katsuki." you puffed out, trying another kick before resuming your stance.
bakugou grunts, hands stuffed inside his pockets as his breath fogged up in the cold air, "you've been out here for four hours, just get your ass inside now. you're gonna' get sick and I'll have to take care of you."
you glanced at him, unmoving expression before you tried out a few punches.
1-b had rented out the training ground for the day, as 1-a had been getting it a lot recently. aizawa told them to use today as relaxation, but you had thought otherwise. you and midoriya had the same idea, but considering how much bakugou disliked him, you didn't train together.
"listen to me, get inside. now." bakugou ordered, pointing to the entrance of the dorms, "if you catch a cold, then everyone else will and they'll hate you. so get inside. don't make me say it again, you idiot."
you raised a brow, getting a few steps before jumping and twisting your body in the air for a new kick. When you landed, you let out a soft pant before resuming your position to try again. bakugou pops a vein on the other side.
"are you listening?" he growls lowly.
"nope." you replied, stretching your arms again, "because I'm too busy training. unlike my incredibly gifted boyfriend, i'm not as flexible as a wet noodle. i've gotta' keep working." you glanced at him, a falsely innocent smile on your face.
bakugou glared at you. he understood that you wanted to get better, everybody wants to. but risking your own health for it?
he shook his head, uncrossing his arms from his chest before marching over to you. your back was facing him, practicing your punches some more. when he was close enough, bakugou placed a hand on on shoulder and pulled you back.
you closed your eyes, slouching your shoulders and dropping your fists as you groaned, "katsuki—"
instantly, your lips were pressed against bakugou;s.
he hunched closer to you, hand on the back of your neck and the other still shoved in his pocket. his irritated expression soon melted away into a calm one. your lips were fairly warm compared to his icy ones.
you had gasped at first, hand clutching your jacket before slowly releasing it. you moved your fingers to his own shirt, grasping the collar of it as you closed your eyes. you let out a soft hum as you moved your lips against his.
as he pulled away, the hand on the back of your neck moved to cup your cheek. "you done now?" he panted slightly, brows furrowing at you.
you pressed your lips together, gulping back, "y—yeah..."
with that, bakugou grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the dormitory, soft blush on his cheek.
↣ todoroki shouto:
"have any of you seen shouto?" you asked, walking into the common room.
uraraka nodded her head from her spot on the couch. "yeah, he's outside. he's been out there for a while, saying something about getting a phone call." she informed you.
it had only been a few weeks of dating todoroki, but you already knew what ticked him off and what relaxed him. it was in the way his eyes would glare at the wall or how they would soften when the subject changes. you could pick it out easily.
"thank you, ochaco." you spoke, smiling at the girl.
you pushed open the door to the front of the dormitories. it didn't take long for you to spot your boyfriend sitting at one of the benches, phone by his ear. he was hunched over, leaning against his knees.
he looked pretty cute in his black turtleneck.
you walked towards him quietly, hands behind your back as todoroki's voice slowly became louder.
"i'll only stay for an hour. that's it, fuyumi." he spoke, wiping his eyes. you stopped at his strained voice. he sounded defeated.
you were only a few feet away as todoroki leaned back against the bench. "i know it's a celebration, but i don't want to stay that long. an hour, at best, please." he sighed out forcefully, tilting his head towards the phone.
you took a few paces forward, hands on the top of his shoulders. he didn't jump, looking over his shoulder to see his partner with a slight smile. todoroki calmed down as he spoke into the phone, "we'll decide on the day. i have to go. goodbye."
todoroki faced forward, ending the call and looking at the phone in his hands. you frowned, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your cheek against his.
"are you okay?" you whispered, closing your eyes.
he leaned against you. "yeah, i'm fine. it's just... my father's birthday next week." he tells you, hand rubbing your arms, "fuyumi is asking how long i will be staying for the dinner."
it's then that you began peppering his cheek with soft kisses. "i'm sorry you're having a hard time, shouto." you mumbled out, feeling his cheek warm up against him, "you don't need to go, if you don't want to."
"i'll go. natsuo will be there, so..." todoroki stated, now slightly facing you. he watched her closed eyes and small smile. something inside of his heart fluttered out.
"you two will tear him a new one, i swear." you joked, keeping your eyes shut.
todoroki grinned at you. In a swift movement, he leaned towards you and pressed his lips against yours, feeling you stiffen up and make a little noise.
when you pulled away from each other, both of your cheeks were hot. yours more-so than todoroki himself. you loosened your arms around him and stared into his eyes.
your eyes shot open upon feeling his lips on yours. but after a few seconds of realisation, you closed your eyes again and kissed back, pulling him closer a bit. you had always thought he would feel cold, considering how much he used his ice quirk. but he was warm. way more than she expected from the boy.
"i suppose you're fine now." you mumbled.
todoroki kissed you forehead. he hummed, "do you want to come to the dinner with me?"
↣ uraraka ochaco:
"ochaco!" you cheered, seeing your girlfriend walk towards you. you were on their way to the movies, a third date of uraraka's choice. you appeared earlier to buy the tickets and popcorn.
"hi, y/n. i hope you haven't been waiting long." she mumbled, tugging at her jacket as she glowed pink.
you replied, handing the tickets to the collector, "it was only a few minutes, don't sweat it ochaco. plus, i don't mind waiting for you." you offered a sweet smile to the girl, making uraraka giggle nervously and rub the back of her neck.
you took your seats, settling for the back row at uraraka's request. as you sat down, you put the popcorn on your lap and faced the anxious girl beside you.
"ochaco, are you alright?" you asked worriedly, hand resting on top of hers as a nice gesture.
she froze, hands gripping the arm rest intensely. "y—yes! i'm totally fine!" you gave her a look, asking for uraraka to be honest. the girl sighed, "okay, i just don't want to embarrass myself like the first two dates. i still can't believe i spilt my tea on your really nice shirt..."
you laughed at her nervousness. your girlfriend seemed to be so on edge about anything romantic between you. even when uraraka was confessing to you, it took way longer than anyone saw necessary.
"i told you, it was fine." you reminded uraraka, squeezing her hand, "and trust me, no matter how many times you embarrass yourself, i'll still like you, ochaco."
uraraka gasps slightly, feeling her cheeks warm up fast at her calm and reassuring words. y/n always knew how to make her feel better.
it was when you leaned towards her and kissed her lips that uraraka blew up in fumes. she froze, eyes wide open the soul leaving her body. it was only brief, so you pulled away a second later.
but uraraka was still frozen.
"ochaco?" you whispered, shaking uraraka's shoulder, "the movie's starting... are you—?"
uraraka covered her cheeks, hunching over as she squealed softly, "you just kissed me..."
you chuckled, resting an arm around her and allowing uraraka to rest against your shoulder. uraraka couldn't focus on the movie.
↣ iida tenya:
"everyone please sit down! the bus is still moving, it is very dangerous to be standing up!"
iida's voice boomed around the vehicle, making everyone stop chatting and face the representative of 1-a. you sat beside him, leaning against the window as you smiled at his antics.
once he made sure everyone was seated again, iida resumed his position beside you. his eyes glanced over to you staring out the window. he furrowed his brows.
"are you okay?" he whispers as the chatter in the bus rises.
you look back to him with a soft smile. "of course. i'm just waiting for get there." you claim, sitting up straight.
he knew something was up. he didn't need to know, but he wanted to help you. iida missed your sweet laughter already.
a few minutes pass and iida slides his hand into yours. you glanced at your linked hands and squeeze back, now leaning your head against his shoulder. iida took that as step one. you seemed to have relaxed now.
"if you ever need to talk, just tell me, darling." he spoke, brushing his finger over your hand in small movements, "i'm here for you no matter what."
you stopped for a moment. but then you chuckle to yourself and takes a breath in, allowing your eyes to shut close. "thank you, tenya. that means a lot to me."
iida grins to himself. it was nice to let loose and relax with you. he leans down, going to kiss the top of your head.
"tenya, do you want to—mph!" you gasp, holding onto his arm to steady yourself once Iida's lips fall onto yours. your eyes go as wide as his before slowly closing, your fingers resting on his neck as you kiss back.
iida was stiff, spare hand gripping the bus chair to tightly his knuckles were white. his cheeks burned red as he felt you return the accidental gesture.
when you finally pull away, your eyes stare into his with heated cheeks. iida was silent, not knowing what to say as you smile at him. you chuckle, "well, that made my day better. thank you, tenya."
"yeah! get some, iida!"
"kaminari, please sit down! and don't phrase it like that!"
↣ kaminari denki:
"denki! look!" you shouted out, pointing to the TV.
kaminari looked up from his drink on the table, seeing you excitedly calling him over from your spot on the couch. he smiled, taking his hot chocolate and leaning over the couch beside you.
"what is it, beautiful?" He asked, sipping his hot drink.
you pointed to the tv, grinning widely as you spoke, "it's the character i was telling you about! that reminds me of you! look, see?"
he turned his eyes to the screen, seeing that you were in fact just watching pokémon. right now, ash was sending out pikachu to fight against the newest opponent. he used his lightning attack to strike the other pokémon.
"look at how strong he is!" you giggled, making kaminari glance at you, "he's so cute, denki."
he stared at you, cheeks definitely pink. it was a wonder how his partner would be demanding and assertive at one time, then be all cutesy and bubbly the next. he loved it.
"can you kiss me?" he suddenly asked, still gazing at you.
you looked up to your boyfriend, holding a pillow to your chest. it was definitely not something he would say so easily, and so consciously. but you grinned and nodded your head anyway.
moving the slightest bit, you connected your lips with his, making him gasp slightly and grip his cup tighter. it had just occurred to him that he asked you to kiss him. you were so forward to just... do it.
he doesn't have enough time to register how soft your lips were when unexpectedly, his lightning goes off. it strikes the couch, leaving a burnt mark. you pull away at the noise, pulling the pillow to cover your mouth quickly in shock. you stared at kaminari, who held his hot chocolate in a confused manner.
"wait... did i just...?" he asks, squinting at the lightning mark on the couch, "oh my god, does this mean you can never kiss me?"
he glances at you in fear, just like you were to him. but then, you break out in laughs, sitting up straight and facing your boyfriend. kaminari stood there, hunched over the couch praying that he was wrong.
who could resist such kissable lips?
↣ kirishima eijiro:
"eijiro, you should just head back to your room." you spoke, covering your mouth as you spoke, "it's not healthy for you to be in here with me."
kirishima closed the door behind him, holding a bowl of soup and a cup of water. a smile on his face, making you pout. "hey, it's fine. I don't mind getting sick." he claims, already moving closer to your spot in your bed.
you scooted away, pulling the blanket up to your nose. "no... eijiro, i don't want you getting sick too!" you said, words muffled by the blanket, "we have that hero basics test tomorrow, remember? what if you have to miss out?"
"then we'll miss out together!" kirishima told you, setting the hot soup on the bedside table, "it sucks being alone when you're sick, so i don't want you to be in your room all by yourself." he reaches out a hand softly patting your head.
you close your eyes as you sigh out, "fine... but don't get so close. okay?"
kirishima ignored your request, pulling the covers up and sliding into your bed. you widened your eyes and gasped, back against the wall. "e—eijiro!" you mumbled, seeing him give you an innocent smile.
he chuckles, tugging the covers from your face and opening up your arms, "i'll be fine, trust me, babe." he calms you down, watching as you slowly melt into his embrace.
you reluctantly wrap your arms under his shoulders. "you really shouldn't want to get sick so much, eijiro." you say, pulling away a bit to look at him, "i don't want to stop you from becoming a pro hero."
next thing you know, his lips are capturing yours. you lean back in surprise as kirishima's hand land on the back of your neck. a gasp leaves your mouth, kirishima smiling at your reaction.
with a clear mind, kirishima pulls away, still grinning at his partner. "see? i don't care if you're sick, i still love—... are you okay?" he suddenly asks, hand on your arm as your cover your mouth.
"eijiro! i—i can't believe you!" you mutter out, a sharp heat resting on your cheeks, "our first kiss, and i'm sick! you could've at least waited until i was better, you know!"
kirishima laughs back, pulling you back into a hug before laying down on the pillow with you in his arms. you were face to face, you still embarrassed as you drop your hand to reveal a frown. kirishima kisses your burning forehead.
Hi! I’d like a mashup for UT and BNHA! I’m a 5’8” bi girl w/ADHD, depression, and a love for music. I play piano, ukulele, guitar, and I sing. My friends say that my quirk would def be singing related. Personality wise, I’m antisocial, sarcastic, self deprecating, and I tend to hide my problems and insecurities from those I love. Despite my negatives, when it comes to my friends, I’d do anything for them. I’m the person everyone goes to for advice, whether we’re close or practically strangers
Hello! Thank you for requesting! We hope you enjoy.
First of all, Papyrus is the biggest goofball known to mankind and he constantly is trying to cheer people up when they’re upset, so we feel like he’d be the best option for you. Though if he asks if there’s something wrong and you use sarcasm, he might not get it at first...
Papyrus will take any good advice he can, probably cooing afterwards about how good it is. He would love to hear about ways he could look cooler, or how to improve his spaghetti, or even how to help out in better ways.
Speaking of listening, he would love to hear your music. If you happen to be shy about showing him at first, he’ll do everything in his power to convince you to open up with him as you did with others, and once you do he will gush. His non-existent eyes will go big and sparkly and he will not tell you anything but praises for it.
As said earlier, he tries to solve everyone’ s problems, so if you EVER need help with something, he’s always there for you.
As said for Papyrus, Kirishima loves to cheer up everyone, no matter what the problem is. Kirishima is cheerful and kind hearted and will do anything for the people he cares about, you being one of them.
He also would try to get as much advice as he can, though he’s confident in both his looks and personality, so not so much advice about that.
He loves when you play music, it helps him relax if he’s ever really stressed out about something, probably school exams. He likes to just lean back and close his eyes while you play whatever comes to your mind.
Your sarcasm honestly reminds him of Bakugo sometimes (...just less explosive maybe?) so he knows how to deal with that perfectly, and even finds it a bit funny sometimes.
Hope humanity treats you well, X-Acto’s Leader -Doxy
summary: bakugou pushes away y/n after having enough of her good deeds. after realising just how much he missed her around him, he tries to get her back.
warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns, third person pov
"Hey, Bakugou!" Y/N calls out, stepping up to him and halting at his side. The boy looked down at her, a raised brow and uninterested expression showing on his face. He sighs out, hands in his pockets, "What is it, Y/N?" The girl scratches her neck, tilting her head to the side.
She felt nervous under his gaze, even though he had gathered enough courage to walk up to him just moments ago. She mutters, "W—Well... it's just that we have dinner ready. You've been out here for a while now, so I imagine that you're hungry."
It was true; Bakugou took his sweet time outside of the dormitory building to think over some hero things. He only had so much time before the end of the year would roll around.
So here he was, leaning against the lightpole and trying to seem irritated by Y/N's presence beside him.
Bakugou sucked in his breath, looking away from the shorter girl before saying, "I'm fine out here, so you can go back inside, Sweetheart." The way he said it sounded like a League of Villain's member mocking the Pro Hero.
Anybody else would've scowled and shot back an insult. God knows that Kaminari would have easily just annoyed him further. However, Y/N just pushed that aside.
It was known that Bakugou liked to act rude towards his colleagues, perhaps that's what he was doing. Y/N drops her hand from her neck, shrugging her shoulders and nodding her head. "Oh, right. Well, I'll leave a bowl out on the table for you, just in case you decide that you want to eat. Everybody else is in the main room, we'll be going to bed in about 20 minutes."
She waits for a reply from the blonde. But silence just responds to her, making a frown appear on her face. Bakugou sends her a side glance, catching her disappointed expression. She turns around, arm slightly brushing against his before she sighs, "Goodnight, Bakugou."
Without another thought, she closes the door behind her and makes her way up to her dorm.
Outside, Bakugou was trying to figure out his thoughts. What was meant by that, was the comments Kirishima was making over text.
The soft-hearted hardening quirk user, who had witnessed Y/N's attempts to get closer with Bakugou, was trying to reason with the explosive blonde. The messages from Kirishima was beginning to irritate Bakugou foolishly.
To: Bakugou
From: ShittyHair
Subject: HEY I SAW THAT!!!
'You shouldn't act so cold towards her! She is only trying to help you!'
To: ShittyHair
From: Bakugou
Subject: Mind your own business
'Oh shut up, she's just going to get in my way. It'd be fucking great if I leave her alone.'
Kirishima sat on the couch closest to the window where Bakugou and Y/N's scene unfolded. He rolled his eyes at his best friend.
To: Bakugou
From: ShittyHair
Subject: You can be such a baby dude
'It's best if you actually try to react and become friends with her. Bakugou, she clearly thinks so much of you to actually keep on trying to talk with you.'
'If it were anyone else, they would've stopped trying on the third attempt. But she isn't just anybody else; she clearly likes you enough to not do that. So at least try to talk properly with her.'
Bakugou just shakes his head, sending a glare at his screen. He quickly types in a response.
To: ShittyHair
From: Bakugou
Subject: Mind your own business #2
'She's just another one of Kaminari's friends, she isn't that freaking important.'
A small smirk appears on Kirishima's face.
To: Bakugou
From: ShittyHair
Subject: I call BS
'Bakugou, I know you. You don't think that about her, just admit it.'
'You like her! You just don't think she'll like you like that!'
Bakugou growls at the words. He grips his phone so hard that the edge of it might be digging into his bone. But he could feel the warmth on his cheeks easily. He sighs, deciding that it was too late to argue with Kirhsima.
To: ShittyHair
From: Bakugou
Subject: Mind your own business #3
'It's not that, idiot. You think I don't know that she likes me? She's not very good at hiding that fact."
Kirishima half-grins. He places his chin in his palm as he types in his response.
To: Bakugou
From: ShittyHair
Subject: AWWWWWW
'Who knew you had such a hard time in the Game of Love?'
Bakugou looks at the clock, which was nearing his usual bed time. Today, everybody was put to hard training, so most students were already passed out. Bakugou made his way inside again.
He sees that Y/N did just what she said. There is still food on the table. Bakugou stares at it for a moment, thinking to himself. Why does she continue to do all these things? She couldn't possible have feelings for him, even with everything she'd done.
Bakugou went upstairs, ignoring the plate.
In the Morning . . .
Bakugou passed the the closed doors in the hallways. Kirishima was beside him, seeming to have forgotten of last night's scenes. The blonde shoved his hands into his pockets, ready to place his foot on the floor down. Until another voice caught his attention. From Kaminari's room.
"Denki, I'm not so sure about that." Y/N says, voice muffled from the wall separating the two in the room from Bakugou himself. He halts his movements, hand gripping the fabric of his sweatpants.
"The Hell is she doing in Dunce Face's room? She isn't stupid enough to get that wrong, is she?" He growls. Kirishima smirks at him. He pats his shoulder and says, "Don't be so jealous, Bakugou." The said boy shoves Kirishima's hands off of him. Bakugou scoffs back, "Why would I be jealous of that moron?"
Before Kirishima can say anything back to him, Kaminari responds to Y/N, "Hey, we both know that girls just love scary movies! Having someone to hang onto, distract you from all the jumpscares." Bakugou faces the wooden door, seeing two shadows creeping from the little sliver of space underneath it.
He hears Y/N mutter back, "I'm not afraid of that much! Mr Aizawa has been training me real good to get my scared levels to a minimum!" Bakugou can almost feel the smile on her face. But Kaminari only laughs, voice dipping to a near whisper but loud enough for Bakugou to hear from his moving spot directly in front of the door. "Y/N... what about him? Aren't you scared of him and what he'll say?"
There's a silence, meaning that Y/N was contemplating her friend's words. Bakugou nearly presses his ear to the wood, catching Y/N's attempts in finding words to respond well with. Kirishima has to hold in his laughs, going on without him to the common room.
The girl stutters, "Denki, you—you don't know what could happen... He could be a, um — just trying to 'figure me out' or 'get used to me'. I am not scared of what he'll say..."
There's footsteps and the two shadows meet. He can hear a pat of clothing, like someone placing a hand on a shoulder.
"If you're that sure, then I'll let it be. You're my strong Y/N anyways!"
Bakugou feels his heartbeat quicken as Y/N hums back a reply and says she's going to start on breakfast breakfast. Bakugou rushes towards the end of the hall, making it four steps quickly down before the bedroom door swings open and Y/N is staring down at him.
"Morning, Bakugou." She smiles, closing the door behind her and passing him down the hall. He glances at her, raised brow and hands in pockets.
"What the Hell is wrong with you?" He murmurs, Y/N looks back up at him from a few feet away. She answers, "Oh, nothing. I'm just on my way to make breakfast. Do you want anything?"
The realisation hits him like a bullet to the liver — no, to the heart. He felt his breathing go ragged as he remembered the dinner he left on the table last night. The one she saved for him. He didn't know why, but for some reason he feared the sight of her seeing his still full plate on the table, untouched.
He comes back to his thoughts, seeing Y/N tilt her head and face him fully. "Bakugou? Are you day dreaming?" She sends a small smile as he makes his way down the hall and around the girl, walking into the elevator.
He growla, "I'm not, calm down. I'll just have whatever." Y/N follows him, giving off a small giggle. Bakugou makes in into to kitchen once the elevator stops as Y/N goes into the common room to ask what everybody wants. Bakugou gulps, spotting his plate and walking over to it, hiding behind his back before Y/N could see.
"Okay, I'm just going to make Kaminari's favourite since nobody can decide otherwise." She states, getting the ingredients out and preparing a few things. She rolls up her sleeves and looks over to Bakugou, who was awkwardly standing in his place, hands behind his back.
She tilts her head, wrapping an apron around her neck and waist before asking, "What's wrong? You can sit down if you like." He gulps, clutching the plate tightly in his hands.
"I—I know, I'm not stupid. I just wanna' stand, is that a crime?" He retorts, making her smile and turn around to cut some ingredients. She heats up the stove, putting in the first few ingredients before chopping some more. Bakugou takes the chance to slowly walk to the other room with the plate, eager to hide it. A few steps later, the floorboard creaks and Y/N looks over to Bakugou.
"Hey, why're you acting so strange?" She questions, turning down the heat of the stove. She places a hand on her hip as Bakugou keeps the plate behind him. "I'm not doing anything! You're just stupid!" He argues as she steps closer.
He takes a step back. This continues until the plate is nearly digging into the wall and Bakugou is leaning away from Y/N.
She warily tries to look behind him, not catching a glimpse. "Bakugou, come on, I won't get mad." She states, crossing her arms. He holds his breath, taking a moment before showing her the plate.
A frown is placed on her face. "So you didn't eat?" She questions, taking the bowl in her hands.
"No, I didn't."
"Did you not like what me and Tsuyu made?" She asks, staring down at the untouched food. Bakugou sighs out, leaning against the wall, "It didn't look like trash. I just... didn't want to eat, okay?"
She glances up at him, a frown on her face still. She hums, stepping away, "Right... You didn't need to hide it, you know. You could've just told me."
She tries to look convincing, but it was obvious she was hurt by his actions. However she was right.
Why did he feel the need to hide something so small from her? It's not like she was bawling her eyes out. No, she was just a little disappointed. So... why was there this heavy pain in his chest?
"Is there something you don't like about me, Bakugou?" She asks.
The question stumps him. He searches through the drawers of times she's annoyed him. But for some reason, he can't bring himself to say that he hated them.
He kinda' liked the way she would always offer him something before everyone else. He kinda' liked the way she would give him all the attention. He kinda' liked the way she kept coming back to him.
A small almost appeared on his lips.
Almost.
Perhaps he was being too greedy.
"You are a liability." He states bluntly, crossing his arms.
Y/N raises her brows and repeats, "'Liability'?" She shrugs her shoulders, not exactly understanding the point Bakugou was making. And that just make him more irritated. He retorts, "Yes, a liability. You know what that is, right?"
She frowns a bit. "Of course I do, Bakugou. What do you take me for?" Her voice was a bit harsh, but she realises it and breathes in. "I just don't understand how I am a liability." She brushes her feet against the floor, trying to ease off the confusion. But Bakugou only rolls his eyes.
"Sure, you cook and know how to use your quirk to a mediocre level, but seriously... could you really help in a fight?" He questions. Y/N opens her mouth to retort, furrowed brows. But as much as she wanted to, she couldn't answer back.
Bakugou goes on, "I've seen our classmates risk their lives for many people in many occasions. But you the most." Y/N widens her eyes at his words.
"People will always hurt you and most of our class will always turn a blind eye and save you." He points to the living room, where the rest of Class 1-A remained unknowing of the conversation. "Don't you see that, Sweetheart?"
She clenches her fists at her sides. "I—I do, but it's not like I don't try to help back." She was getting a little mad. Which was rare when she talked to Bakugou. "I don't just stand there like an idiot, I do whatever I can. My quirk is useful." She states. Her little pride makes Bakuhou smirk.
He retorts, "Useful is you can use it like a Pro. You can't. You can't do a lot, Dumbass, face it." Y/N pouts a little, nearly crossing her arms as she looks to the wall beside them. Bakugou tilts his head, walking a step closer to her. "Can you save our classmates? Can you escape a kidnapping? Can you kill someone? Even if it means that so many others will live?"
Y/N doesn't respond to his questions. Bakugou sighs out, annoyed, "They won't always be there to help you. You have to learn to fend for yourself."
Bakugou was holding himself back. He knew it himself, he did it on purpose. He half listened to Kirishima's words that were telling him to try better. He had to say something that would graze her heart, not yet pinning it down.
He could've been a lot more harsher.
"You would be much more of a help if you left me alone."
He could've been a lot less harsher.
Y/N turns around immediately, lifting her shoulders. She moves to the bench and puts the plate down, staying like that for a second before turning back around to Bakugou.
He was nervous.
"I see. Well, I'm just going to finish up breakfast and then I'll be... busy." She states, going back to doing what she was before. Bakugou stays leaning against the wall, following her movements with his eyes. He could see that she wanted to say something more.
She wanted to argue back again. She had never been one to just let things slide. Bakugou's seen her bicker with Iida about which store had the best meats and vegetables. But this was different; as if she didn't want to fight with him.
The scraping of the pan takes his mind as she finishes up her chore, putting it on two plates and then placing them on the table. She stares down at her hands before taking her apron off and putting it back where she got it. "Excuse me, Kiri..." She mumbles, moving around Kirishima who stood beside in the entrance. He had heard their conversation and finally decided to show himself.
Without another word, Y/N heads upstairs.
Bakugou slowly moves to sit at the table. His posture was slacked. He acted as if he was an even moodier teenager. His shoulders slouched, feet dragged along the floor and the loud noises he made without caring of everybodh else filling the eating area. But the weight on his chest never left.
He wasn't supposed to like her. So why was he so... what's the word?
"Guilty." Kirishima pointed out, sitting beside him, "You feel guilty. I told you, dude, you should've listen to me instead of trying to hurt her."
"I don't care."
"Oh my God, that wasn't very manly of—"
"Shut up."
Footsteps are heard against the floor. Bakugou shoots up from his spot, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beautiful H/C girl, but instead he's met with the electric boy and invisible girl.
Kaminari asks, "Hey, where's Y/N?"
Bakugiu breathes in, hope washing away. He quickly picks himself up as Sero retorts, "Oh, L/N? She went back upstairs, told us to eat without her because she needed to do something." Kaminari groaned on, saying how meals tasted better with all your friends around.
Bakugou wasn't listening. He was imagining what Y/N was doing.
The next time he sees her is when Kaminari announces that they're leaving to talk to Mr Aizawa about the training room. It was only supposed to be Kaminari, Midoriya and Y/N. But Bakugou wanted to go too.
He scoffs, "Why can't I come? I just want to train, what's so freaking wrong about that?" Kaminari rolls his eyes, tugging on his black jacket. Iida looks to Y/N as he opens the door. Y/N pulls her hair up into an up-do and faces away from Bakugou, walking towards Kaminari and Iida by the exit.
"Please, calm down. It's just extra training. L/N has asked Kaminari to help her practice and I'm sure Mr Aizawa will be more persuaded to allow us the usuage of the training block with me supervising. Is that a problem?"
The other blonde has no response. Bakugou squints his eyes at Kamiari before turning his gaze to Y/N. She looks away, moving closer to Kaminari. She stands behind him, hand resting on his arm as she looks at the ground. Bakugou ticks back, "Whatever. If I hear you made us miss out of training tomorrow, you're all dead!"
Kaminari turns around, walking through the door. "Oh please, everyone knows you wouldn't hurt Y/N." He taunts before looking over his shoulder to Bakugou, a cold glare disguised by a smile towards him. "Right?"
The look sent light shivers up Bakugou's back. He gulps a little, turning his head down. He doesn't say anything else as Kaminari leads the other two outside. Iida places a hand on the top of Y/N's shoulder and slightly pushes her through the door. Bakugou glares at the gesture.
"I can feel the anger radiating off of you." Kirishima chimes, a smile on his face as he stood behind Bakugou. The angered boy ignores him, hearing the door shut. He hated the feeling in his stomach. How much he wanted to cut Iida's hand off. How much he wanted to just pull Y/N away from him. It was amazing how long it took for him to see that he was...
"Well, look at that." Kirishima chuckles, chin in his hand, "Now should I call this version of you 'Jealous Bakugou'?" He scowls back in return, walking back towards the kitchen. "Shut the Hell up. I've got better things to do." His eyes fall onto the empty plate on the table. His empty plate on the table.
Why couldn't he just be nice to her? It isn't that hard. He could've finished his dinner like he did with breakfast. But no, he decided to be an asshole.
The Next Day . . .
Y/N was sitting on the couch, talking with Mina, Kaminari and Jirou about home and memories and what they'd do once they finish their internship.
It was a light hearted conversation. Y/N was actually laughing along with her friends. Jirou would roll her eyes from the separate couch she sat on, Mina would clap her hand as she giggled beside Y/N and Kamiari would place his hand on Y/N's shoulder, laughing too.
It was very comfortable.
And it would be just perfect if Bakugou didn't come stomping into the room with his gaze set on Y/N.
She was currently looking up at Kaminari, Y/N smiling widely with rosy cheeks as he mentioned one of her 'cutest moments'. A huge weight fell on Bakugou's chest. He walked up to them, standing directly in front of Y/N as she opened her eyes and stared up at him.
The giggles halted as Jirou and Mina shared a glance before turning to Y/N. She played with her hands. "What is it, Bakugou?" She was no longer cheery when she spoke to him. More monotone and eyes averted. It made him frown a little.
"I just want to talk to you, Idiot. It won't take too much of your precious time." He states, making Y/N gulp. She looks up at Kaminari, who shrugs his shoulders. The way she looked for his opinion kind of irked Bakugou. He holds out a hand to her. "Come on, it's just a conversation."
Y/N sighs, standing up and ignoring the hand being presented to her as help. As she walked towards the door, Bakugou dismissed how she reacted to not taking his offer. He followed her, closing the door behind them.
It was silent at first. It was midday and others were walking down the path, every few minutes a group stroll drive by, having training sessions. People were going along with their day like nothing was happening.
"Why are you so close with him now?" Bakugou asks, a softer voice. Y/N turns her head to look up to him where he was leaning against the wooden post. He refuses to meet her eye, just staring at the path in front of them as silence passes. Y/N responds, "I've always been close to them."
She didn't know who exactly Bakugou who talking about, so she tried her best to get him to say it.
He rolls his eyes. "Oh please, don't give me that, Sweetheart." He sighs out, facing the opposite building to them, "Tell me the truth... Is this payback?"
Y/N's brows furrow a bit. She makes her bidy turn to him fully, crossed arms over her chest. She asks, "What are you talking about? 'Payback'?"
He nods his head, biting his lip. "You think that I don't see you cling onto him more?" Y/N furrows her brows, uncrossing her arms with a still confused look on her face.
Bakugou goes on, "It's literally been onlybtwo days and you can't seem to be in a room without him. Hell, I could hear him on the phone with you last night! You know how much stupidity I claimed from that conversation?"
He shakes his head and scratches his cheek. "You can barely stand to be apart from him! Is that what you used to do to me?" He squeezes his arm in his hands.
"Try to hold my hand, link our arms together... How come I never knew this? And why am I getting so freaking pissed over it?" Bakugou runs a hand through his hair. He's so angry with himself.
"I don't know what to say, Bakugou. Really, I don't..."
He gives her a look, finally. She's holding the same innocent, confused expression. She looked so cute, it was hurting Bakugou.
He growled, "Ugh! Stop doing that! Right now!" He places his hands on her cheeks, squishing them a bit before pinching them. Y/N makes a small noise. "H—Hey! What did I do now? Stop hurting me, I'm just listening to you!" She claims, hands gripping his wrists. He leans forward as she did so backwards.
"You're—You're making that face at me! Don't do that anymore! Or I won't stop pinching your cheeks!" He retorts, stepping more closer to her.
The tips of their shoes touch as Y/N grumbles back, "It's not my fault, Bakugou! Blame my parents! It's just the way my face is! What, want me to wear a mask all the time?"
That would be easier for Bakugou. That way, he wouldn't feel his heart beat too hard for her mere smile.
"Why are you pinching my cheeks so hard? I'm gonna have marks now..." She closes her eyes as Bakugou pinches her again. She's stopped her restraints, still holding his wrists. The pretty scene makes Bakugou stop his actions mid way and just stare at her.
Her cheeks were slightly pinker, brows knitted and eyelashes falling on her skin with a small pout on her lips.
He groans, "Because you fucking—! You're making me wish for something I never had! You're making me want something I left behind! You're just... just..." He trails off, fingers releasing Y/N's reddened cheeks from his torture. His shoulders slump and his head is leaning down.
Y/N widens her eyes, gripping his wrists tighter. "Bakugou, what's wrong? Why won't you just tell me properly?" She requests, head leaning a bit back as Bakugou's head drove into her shoulder. His hair brushes against her cheek and she stops her movements.
"I freaking... hate you." Bakugou whispers, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and another trapping her waist.
His actions were so contradictory to his words. It stumped Y/N.
She dropped her jaw a bit before hooking her arms around his neck, gripping the back of his shirt tightly. They were silence for a while.
"You're an asshole, Katsuki."
Bakugou thought he had heard her wrong. First, she had just insulted him, an 'asshole' of all things. Second, she just used his first name. Why did it sound like Heaven on earth to Bakugou?
Y/N digs her head into his shoulder and neck. "I can't believe you. Bakugou Katsuki, Class 1-A's stone-cold student. All this time, I thought I was doing these things for nothing. That you wouldn't return my feelings at all, but now look at us."
She laughs, feeling Bakugou tug her closer, "Someone who didn't try at all, and someone who tried way too much. You're such an asshole for making me wait this long."
Bakugou closes his eyes. He could imagine the smile on her face. "Well, it would've been so much freaking easier if you stopped looking at me like I was your source of life."
Y/N breathes in, rubbing his shoulders. "Sorry I guess."
He pulls away a bit, sheepishly looking at the ground. "Does... Does this mean that we're okay?" Y/N takes a moment to think. She's been trying so hard to get Bakugou to talk to her properly. And here he was, asking if they were alright.
Without another word, she leans up on her toes and puts her lips over his. She grips his hand, the other palm on his shoulder. She tilts her head and closes her eyes, feeling complete when Bakugou begins to kiss back.
He holds his arm around her waist and pulls her closer, squeezing his eyes shuf he felt as if when he opened his eyes he would witness her disappear. But Y/N pulled away, making the both of them open their eyes. Bakugou was wrong. She was still here.
Y/N left a hand on his cheek. "We're okay now, Katsuki. As long are you promise to be more open with me?" Bakugou nods his head, leaning his forehead against hers. He hums, "I will, Y/N. I will." He presses a kiss to her nose.
I've been hacking away at this since just after Christmas, it's basically a novel at this point and I'm immensely proud of it. Please enjoy! There are requests that are on the way, this longer piece just took precedence.
This post includes: physical violence, mental health, traumatic experiences and the aftermath, use of pain-relieving medications, cursing, sexual content (not full smut, sorry kids), depictions of physical assault/ beatings and forced drowning, mild religious content, and a prominent polyamorous romantic relationship.
Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.
Mental Health note: This piece touches on panic and anxiety born from trauma, some religious-based discrimination and trauma as well as physical captivity and assault.
You leaned forward, tearing yourself away from the sun-baked iron bars that seared your bareback and slumped forward against the equally scalding irons bars in front of you. You had long since lost the ability to hold your body upright, resigning yourself to the inevitability of the burns that peeled away at your skin. It had been two full days since you'd been left in the cage to wither away under the blaring heat of the midsummer's sun. Your shoulder and legs were blistering under the constant exposure to the sun, and your rear was scraped and bruised from the rough iron bottom of the hanging cage. Your lips were cracked, any saliva to moisten them had long since dried up. The only shred of hope you had was that a particularly large cloud might roll by and shield you from the sun for a while or that the sun would set maybe a few minutes earlier today. The hunger and thirst were the most bearable part, the painful emptiness in your gut was little more than a dull ache compared to the waves of burning pain and delirium you were tormented with. At this point, you would admit to what the townsfolk had attempted to charge you with, anything to make this end.
End. You thought to yourself. The end had always been the most terrifying thing to you, where would you go, would it all just stop, would you have done enough? The end had once held no certainty and no solace for you, but now, in the face of the burning inferno in the sky and the flies that began to pick at your already decaying skin, you were sure that it had to have been better than this.
You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the bars, the hot iron pressing into your forehead. You tried to take small focused breaths; the air somehow felt cooler if you puckered your lips a bit. You breathed in place of crying, your body had no more liquid to give. You breathed with your eyes closed until a cloud came, dense and absolute. The redness of the light through your eyelids dulled and for the first time since it had risen the sun's unshakeable scrutiny peeled away from your skin. Mercifully the cloud had been lasting for a while, nearly a minute now. You blinked your eyes open so you could look up at this cloud and appreciate it in all of its merciful glory. However, when you looked up you were not met with a dense white puff of air far off in the sky, but a tall man dressed in all black and a face framed in a wild halo of dark curls.
He regarded you silently, his dismal expression unwavering. The only indicator you had that he had even registered you looking up at him was the slight readjusting of his eyes as he made eye contact with you. You instinctively looked away, no one looked kindly on any of the people who found themselves stuck in these cages let alone an alleged witch. He was taunting you; you were sure. There would be no other reason to get so close. Unless...all black, grim expression. Perhaps the executioner had come a day early. Perhaps, your suffering was to come to an end early.
He crouched down until he was in your field of view and looked up at you. His dark eyes seemed softer than they had a moment ago as they looked up through his thick dark lashes. You started to turn your head away, but his hand reached out and his fingers brushed one of your dangling legs. You tensed at this touch, too exhausted and drained to be able to properly pull away.
"Look at me." He mumbled warmly. "It's okay, I'm- a friend."
A Friend. That sounded awfully good right about now. Even though you knew he was probably lying, trying to manipulate you in some sort of way you looked back at him. What was he going to do that was worse than what had already been done to you? Your eyes met his, and you held intense eye contact for a while. He seemed to be attempting to soften his gaze and you weren't quite sure what to do with yours.
"Can you speak?" he asked, his eyes running up and down your body quickly.
You tested out movement in your throat, only to be met with sharp dray pain. An arid gasping sound was the most you could muster. You slumped farther forward, looking at him pleading eyes that tried to convey how badly you wished you could speak. He wasted no time in twisting around and reaching for a leather bag closed with a cork that was fastened to his hip. He opened it and slipped it through the bars of the cage, looking over his shoulder for any onlookers. You grabbed the waterskin with a strength that you had doubted you still had left in you and managed to get it to your lips, tilting it just enough to dribble a small stream into your mouth. Perhaps this was his game, to poison you. If it was poisoned so be it, this would be a most merciful way to die.
You swallowed until the waterskin ran dry, your body still screaming for more water. You wanted more, you needed more. You tossed the waterskin downwards in frustration at the limited amount of water it was able to provide and in a show of impressive reflexes the man reached out and caught it before it could hit the dusty road. He snorted and affixed the waterskin to his hip once more, standing.
"Your name?" he asked, his voice was gruff but at the same time kind.
You agonizingly lifted your head to look up at him, your strength hadn't returned, it would surely take more than half a day's supply of water to do that. What the water had done was dull a pulsing nausea that sat in your gut and relieved you of some of the sharp pain in your throat. You tried to speak again, this time your voice, or rather a fraction of it came out. "Y/N."
He nodded to himself. "Family name?"
You blinked hard, the sun briefly flaring up behind him as he swayed slightly on his feet. The way his stray hairs danced in the sun was reminiscent of the portraits that hung in the cathedral, of the gold-leafed angelic halos. If it hadn't been for his grim attire you'd have thought him an angel; although perhaps he was an angel, an angel of death. "Need it for my execution papers, do you?"
"No." he sighed. "I need to know if you're who I'm meant to be looking for."
You looked him up and down. True, he wore dark clothes, but they were not formal nor those of an executioner, but rather a plain set of well-worn traveler's clothes. His hair was longer than most men's in the area, and despite his somewhat disheveled appearance he had at least washed within the last few days. Under one of his exhausted eyes, a long scar stretched across his cheek, no doubt from the edge of a blade. Two of which, you'd only just noticed, were strapped across his back, rather plain and worn leather-wrapped hilts and pommels peaked out over his shoulder. He was a traveler and possibly a duelist, however, neither had anything to do with you.
"W-what if I am?" you croaked.
"Then, you're coming with me." He stated casually.
"Which would entail?"
"No hanging in a cage to roast to death in the sun." he deadpanned. "Now, what's your family name?"
You looked into his eyes. There was no sign of deceit, but then again you were in no condition to be trusting your body nor your mind's capabilities. He was right, though. This was just about as bad as it could get. You swallowed for the first time that day, it felt good to be able to. "L/N."
The man's face lit up, if you could call it that. Compared to the dismal amount of emotion before, he most definitely was happy by your response. He looked over his shoulder, shoving his hands in his pocket, and whistled. He jutted his chin towards you while still looking at someone across the way. From behind him, you heard footsteps, sporadic and clumsy. Another man appeared from over the dark-haired one's shoulder, his hair was even longer, and he bore a well style mustache as well as a set of finer clothes. He had flaxen hair that was neatly tied back into a long ponytail down his back and his emerald eyes betrayed much more than his partner's dark ones. He smiled down at you, his expression pure relief and delight. When his eyes fully settled on you his apparent happiness wavered, but he collected himself quickly and was back to smiling at you.
"Hello!" he said in a sing-song voice, that you're sure you would have adored just three days ago. "You're our lady?"
You looked up at him, his positive disposition providing a strange sense of comfort. If he was also looking for you, perhaps wherever you were needed wouldn't be so bad after all. "I- I don't know, am I?"
"She is." The dark-haired man confirmed. 'I- I'm sorry to have to prolong your situation but, do you think you can last until nightfall?"
You looked up at the two men. Were they meant to be your saviors? If so, you most definitely could last until nightfall for salvation. But, if they weren't... you shoved that fear from your mind. Your suffering was inevitable any which way but trusting them, it was the only choice you had that could turn out better. The blond man's beaming smile shrunk into a less charismatic gesture and into a comforting genuine expression. The dark-haired man had softened once again, every time you looked back to him he seemed to become more human to you. It was as if he was evaluating you just as you were him, and every inch you gave he reciprocated.
You nodded silently, wanting to save what moisture you still had left in your throat after draining the waterskin.
"Good." The dark-haired man hummed. "Zash, do you have your waterskin?"
The blond-haired man reached around to the back of his belt and without missing a beat freed it from its tether and handed it to you. You took it readily, and as you did with the first one drained it slowly until not even another drop would come out. Even though you still felt cheated with the finite amount of water in the waterskin you decided not to through this one, it felt rude. The blond man took his waterskin back and tucked it back into its respective place on his belt.
"We'll be back after sundown," The flaxen-haired man started in a hushed voice, "just hold out until then."
They both started to turn away from you, towards the bustling market across the square. Fear rose up in your chest, a fear that had managed to subside in the last day or so as you resigned to your fate. You had just been offered an impossible sense of hope, and you didn't even know their names.
"Wait, wait!" you called out after them in a hushed tone.
They both stopped, the dark-haired one didn't turn back to look at you, instead keeping his eyes trained on the crowd in the market across the street. The blond-haired turned around, looking at you expectantly.
"W-what are your names?" you stuttered.
"I'm Hizashi," The blonde smiled kindly. "that's Shouta."
Shouta tugged on Hizashi's sleeve, looking towards a cluster of people, at the center an older woman who was unashamedly looking back and forth between gawking at them and staring you down. Hizashi turned away from you and the two men disappeared into the crowd, the flurry of villagers and merchants swallowing them entirely.
CHAPTER 2
4 Days Ago
The sun was low enough in the sky for the bugs to start buzzing again and the poor animals covered in fur to try and hunt some sort of game before it got too dark. The hot summer sun had given way to a cool night that smelled of rain and brought cool breezes from the west. The dried herbs that hung in bunches in your window cell swung to and fro, small pieces of brittle stem and leaves tearing away from the bunches and littering the freshly swept floor. You watched the bunches sway in the breeze until the wind grew strong enough to snuff out some of the candles around the window and decided that perhaps a storm really would roll through and that it would be better for both you and the drying herbs if you were to pre-emptively close the shutters. So, you plucked the bunches from their hanging nails and closed the wooden shutters. Locking them in place with small brass latches and placing a heavy stone behind each shutter for some extra hold.
The world grew darker and you found yourself lighting more candles, bringing them slowly towards the center of the room and away from any stray breezes as rain began to fall and cooled the air. It was the perfect night for a warm broth, and you had some fresh bones from the last day's meals. As the night wore on your meal came close to finished and you were able to finish wrapping the small medicinal pouches for farmer Wayland's boy and set them aside for the morning. You stood and stalked over to the pot atop the embers in the fireplace and lifted the lid, the broth was boiling but the roots you had tossed in had sunk to the bottom and could be burning. You looked around the fireplace for a spoon or stir stick but found you had left it on the opposite side of the small home. You turned back to the pot filled with golden liquid and held your hand out above it as if you were holding a spoon to stir it with. From your fingertips, a spectral spoon handle twinkled into existence, inch by inch until a spoon head appeared and you were able to dunk it into the pot and give it a quick stir.
Usually, you were a lot more vigilant when using your magic, but since your shutters were closed and a storm was raging outside you were sure there would be no spying eyes lurking outside your windows to catch you. You had never used your gift for harm, not that you believed you could begin with. You could conjure objects into a semi-realistic form, they acted the same as their real counterparts in every which way except that they appeared semi-translucent and were perpetual purple collar. You could make a knife, a stone, and even a dress if you so wished. You had tried fire and water once or twice, but it always turned out as if it were frozen in time, the way artists capture fire or water in their paintings. You supposed you could conjure up weapons with which you could wage violence and war against the poor villagers around you, but you were no witch and held no hatred of that kind in your heart.
The sound of something hitting your door sent a jolt up your spine and the spectral spoon blinked from existence. You stood in silence for a moment, wondering it had truly been a knock at your door or a piece of debris lost in the storm. You turned to your door slowly, scanning it for cracks or gaps that prying eyes could have spied through. You found none but you were not calmed in the slightest. A second knock came at the door, this time it was a clear series of deliberate knocks. You scanned the room around you for any items you may have injured up and left out.
You tiptoed to the door, hoping that if you took enough time your uninvited guest would leave. But just as you arrived at the door a third set of knocks came, these were powerful knocks, frustrated and ill-tempered to be sure. You took a breath and lifted the latch to the door, opening it just enough so that you could stand in the doorway but no one else could, and held the door tight to your side. Before you stood a man, his arm raised and ready to knock again, so soon. He was draped in a waterlogged cloak that looked like it could be a rich red tone if it wasn't soaked nor the middle of the night. The hood was drawn but you could still make out a strong chin, pointed nose, and dark brown ringlets dripping with water.
"Can I help you?" you mustered. It wasn't unusual for you to get customers at your door for medicinal help, but it certainly was unusual for someone would have enough money to be wearing fine red robes to show up at your door, let alone at this time of night. You eyed him carefully catching a glimpse of a rather gaudy crest made up of two swords and a great hunting hound with something in its mouth, his nose stuck into the air.
"I'm afraid we've got caught in a storm, miss. We're looking for a place to stay the night and wait out the storm." His voice was thick and proud, and he spoke as some with years of formal education might. At the mention of 'we' you looked past him to the gate of your front garden where four men were tying their horses to your wobbly fence post and trodding on your lilies.
"Apologies on behalf of the weather, traveler," You smiled warmly. "but my home is far too small and cluttered to house you and your men. You'll have better luck at the inn in town. It's just down the hill, not but a ten-minute ride; seven if you're swift."
The man's heavy brows knitted together, and his jaw squared, he seemed displeased with your answer. "We haven't any coin, no inn will take us."
"The Innkeeper is a kind man, prone to taking on charity." You responded, inching backwards into your home and getting ready to slam the door if need be.
The man's jaw twitched and his hands, balled into fisted at his sides, were turning white with exertion. No was not a word he had heard much of in his life, you gathered. He laughed a sharp cruel laugh that sounded more like a dry cough. "I'm afraid that won't do."
The man was fast, and indeed much larger than you realized as he lunged forward. One of his large hands grabbed your shoulder and the other shoved the door open with tremendous force. You stumbled backwards and tried to pull away from his firm grip but he clamped down even harder around your arm with bruising strength. His second hand clasped itself roughly over your mouth and he shoved you backwards until your back hit the table that lined the opposite wall. His hand was so large that he was able to clasp down on your nose with his thumb, cutting off your airflow entirely. "I'm not asking this time; we plan on taking full advantage of your hospitality. You can willingly give it to us, or you can find out what your lovely little cottage looks like painted in red."
As if to provide evidence of his cruel nature the man unsheathed a small dagger, one that reflected the dim golden light of the fireplace as it was brought towards your face. He held there, lightly trailing the tip across your skin as you shuttered. With a dangerous glint in his eyes, he flinched his hand, the very tip of the blade biting into the skin of your jaw and trailing up toward your ear. You froze, where the chill of fear should have gripped your bones, instead a flare of anger ignited. Who was this man to think he could invite himself into your home and make threats on your life? Something told you that even if you went along with his requests this would turn out badly for you. You closed your eyes and focused on the crushing grip your assailant had on your face.
It was in that darkness and growing fury that a spark of brilliant purple came to you. It was in the form of a long dagger, jagged and cruel. Your restrained arm pulled back with enough force to break free and met your other between you and your attacker's chests. You could feel the cool bulb of the pommel against your palms and suddenly you could breathe. There was a warmth running down your hands and soaking through your shirt now, a wet ragged breath sputtered in your face until the full weight of a dead man crashed down at your feet. You looked up forward through the doorway and saw the pale face of a small man, a hefty coin purse at his hip and terror glimmering in his eyes alight with purple light. Purple light. You looked down at your blood-soaked hands. A great spectral gnarled dagger blade shone out in front of you, thin ribbons of blood dripping from it.
And in your sudden clarity, the dagger blinked out of existence, the cottage falling back into the dull golden firelight of the fireplace.
"Witch!" he shrieked. You had never heard a man so full of fear. "She's a witch! She's a witch and a murderer!"
This story includes: injury to the reader, MILD sexual content, discussion of body image, post trauma mental health, mentions of mild violence, cursing and a prominent polyamorous romantic relationship.
Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.
You woke damp with sweat, the ghost of the inferno filled cyclone burning in your palms. It was still dark in your apartment, only the faint, cool light of the streetlights slipping through the closed blinds. You had beaten the sun to rising once again, the room was still cool without the sun beating in. Through the patchwork of light and dark you could see Hizashi, curled up in the duvet, pressed into Shota for warmth. His golden halo of hair swallowing the pillow beneath his head and the better part of Shota's face. It was coldest during the earliest hours of the day; you couldn't stand being warm anymore. It felt suffocating and panic would start to boil up inside of you if the feeling went on too long.
You hated what that day had done to you, even if Hizashi and Shota acted as if it didn't bother them. Hizashi was a blanket hog on a normal day but since you needed the bedroom kept cold to keep the nightmares at bay you'd wake up to him shivering in Shota's arms. The worst part was that he would always check the thermostat to make sure the room was cold enough before going to sleep regardless. And you knew it drove him crazy when you had wiggled out of his arms in the first few weeks of being home, but you couldn't help it. The warm embrace felt like you were being caged in by fire. Everything warm felt like that fire.
You hated this. You hated being the fragile one, the one who would get upset over the thermostat or being hugged for too long. You hated that they were so good at bending to your will because everything was supposed to be about compromise. You felt like a tyrant and them, your subjects. You wanted to hold your partners at night, you wanted to feel close to them.
You crawled to the end of your bed as quietly as you could manage and padded across the cool wooden floor, changing the room temperature before you left. You kept the lights off in the apartment, the darkness feeling safer than the heat that came along with turning the lights on. There were no blinds in the main part of the house, but the sky was still an inky blue and you wouldn't have to worry about hiding from the sun for a while yet.
The nighttime was the only time you'd been able to look at the sky. It was funny, two months ago you'd have given anything to look up at the daytime sky with all your night shifts. Now the sun felt too hot on your face and the bright light would burn images of fire and smoke into your mind. The night sky wasn't so bad when the business sector downtown turned down their lights for the night. There were stars and blinking planes and sometimes the dim glow from the city would illuminate beautiful patterns in low hanging clouds. You leaned back against the kitchen table and stared out the window, out at the sky while you still could.
"You're not sleeping." It was tired and rough, but it was definitely Shota's voice.
You looked back over your shoulder to see Shota standing in the doorway, his messy hair wild with sleep. His eyes were barely open but still trained right on you. There was no hiding things with Shota, that's not how you and him worked.
"No. I can't." You mumbled.
He nodded his head and yawned, lazily dragging his feel towards you. He leaned back against the kitchen table, his shoulder just brushing yours. Normally he would have hugged you, you knew he didn't for your sake. You hated this, you hated yourself. You remember when he got hurt at the USJ attack, how really all that had changed was that he had become more cautious at work. You were pretty sure that was for yours and Hizashi's sake as well. He had handled it all so well, you hated that you couldn't.
"What's happening in there?" You hadn't noticed that he'd been staring directly at you, a soft expression gracing his features.
You side glanced at him; you couldn't hide the hurt in your eyes. Hizashi was a talker and a fixer, he tried to fix things for you and talked about just about everything with you. Shota was the listener; he'd stayed up more late nights with you just listening than you could count, just listening. Those tired eyes saw more of you than you thought you'd ever be comfortable sharing with anyone. What to tell him. You couldn't quite grasp what was happening inside of you enough to make enough sense of it to tell him. It was hard, isolating.
"I'm tired." You settled on.
"Yeah," He nodded; his shoulder brushed yours again. "sleep's supposed to be good for that."
You smiled despite yourself. He was a dork.
"Nightmares?"
"I'm tired." You repeated with a nod.
His eyes were so soft and warm, you felt like you could melt into them. He was sad, sad in the most innocent of way. He was sad for you; you could see that. You hated it. You hated that he was sad, and that it was for you.
"Sleep gets easier with time." He looked forward, towards the skyline.
"It's been two months." You whispered, a lump forming in your throat.
His hand found your thigh and gave it a soft squeeze. You stared down at his hand, the two golden bands that encircled his ring finger reflecting the streetlights. "You just need more time."
"You didn't." you folded your hands together in your lap and looked off into the skyline, a silent frustrated tear spilling down your face.
You could feel him turn to look at you. He was quiet for a moment, his breaths deepening. "After USJ?"
You nodded.
"I-" he paused, clearing his throat. "I tried. I couldn't. When you took mornings off for those first few weeks and Hizashi came home early there were still these hours where I was alone. When the silence would-"
He cleared his throat again. "Can you look at me?"
You bit your bottom lip to try and stop the quiver that threatened to escape. You didn't want to look at him, you didn't want to because you knew you'd break. You'd break more than you already had, and you were so, so tired. But you couldn't say no, you couldn't deny him something so simple, so easy as looking into his eyes. So, you did.
You turned to meet eyes that mirrored your own, they were tired beyond sleeplessness, enduring beyond pain and yet there was a warmth in them. Still, even as you broke, you looked into his eyes and felt safe. It was okay to break here; he would hold you together.
"I went back to work, back to my life because the silence that taking time gave me was filled with the sound of my own skull getting crushed. It was filled with my student's terrified eyes and the taste of my own blood." His hands found the sides of your face. "I couldn't feel that. I couldn't feel that every day and get better. But you, you need to start feeling, Y/N. You're allowed to feel however you need to, for however long you need to. You almost died, alone with a burning building on top of you."
Your tears were freely flowing now, they were hot against your skin. "I've been doing nothing but forcing my feeling all over you guys!"
"No, Y/N, you haven't." He pulled you closer to him, holding your head to his chest. "You've been hiding away. Away from the living breathing world, away from feeling what you went through. Away from that fear. You almost died; you're allowed to be afraid. And you're allowed to need us to help you."
He was being so reasonable; he was being so good to you. You wanted him to tell you to get over it, you wanted Shota to knock some sense into you. You wanted to be okay again, you didn't want to be scared, you wanted to be like you were before. A white-hot rage welled up in your chest. You pushed away from him and smacked him in the chest. Again. And Again. You pounded against him until your rage grew to a simmer and your arms grew lethargic with sorrow.
He took it, his arms reached out towards you embracing you again when your weary arms fell to your sides. You caved into him, his arms swallowing you in a fiery hot embrace. Every part of him that touched you felt like suffocating hot coals, but you couldn't pull away. You needed so very badly to be held. The two of you sat like this for a while, the dark kitchen beginning to fill with the faintest light from the sun's earliest rays.
"One day, during my lunch break I broke down in my classroom." He began to whisper into your hair. "I couldn't feed myself with the bandages, I felt so useless. I had to wait for Zashi to come and help me with the most basic of tasks, he took so much time out of his day to help me with almost everything. So, when he came in to find me crying into my unopened instant noodles he was pretty worried. He thought I was going off the deep end."
He chuckled softly to himself. "When I told him what was wrong, that I felt like a burden to him he had the gull to laugh in my face. I didn't get why he would laugh back then but I kind of get it now."
He ducked his head down so he was eye level with you as you leaned against his chest. "We love you, Y/n. We know that what happened to you was traumatic and we never expected you to just be okay. You not being okay isn't a burden to us, that's what we're here for. When times are good we celebrate together and when times are rough we hold each other together."
What last store of resolve you had tucked away inside of you left. "I was so scared."
"I know. I was too." His arms tightened around you. For the first time in weeks, you felt the cold air around you, and you were glad someone was there to keep you warm.
*******************************************
The next time you opened your eyes you were alone in bed, dust dancing around in the beams of sunlight that streaked across the room. The room was warm, but you didn't feel that suffocating panic creeping in. Instead you felt comfortable. It had been a while since you'd felt comfortable in your own bed, especially with any sort of sheets draped over your legs. They were thin, the duvet rolled up at the bottom of your bed, but they were there, and you didn't feel like they were smothering you.
The bedroom door creaked slowly open, light pouring in from the kitchen window. A white bundle of fur glided into the room and leaped up onto the bed, making itself comfortable on Hizashi's pillow. You ran your hands along her back, satisfied purrs filling the air.
"You just wanted some love, hm?" you cooed. "What are those mean men doing out there that they can't give you pets?'
You looked at her, you knew a response wasn't coming but every pet owner still waited. She melted into the pillow and eventually rolled to the side away from your hand, having decided she had had enough of your love for the time being. You rolled over and sat up, your head felt heavy and cloudy from your early morning crying session. Yet, the perpetual tiredness that had haunted you for weeks felt farther off today. You looked down at your palms, the scars on your arms had nearly all been healed away except for your palms. Two swirling scars of raw red skin twisted over your hands fading away as they reached your wrists and fingertips. You examined your left hand, specifically the missing pair of rings from your finger. You had lost the rings in the fire, the heat ruing the settings of the stones. The doctor who had healed your hands said it was miracle you got away with such light scaring.
You crouched next to your nightstand and rummaged through the drawers until you found a small ceramic box where you had put your damaged rings. The box was a handmade piece Hizashi's mother had given him, it had a serene garden scene painted across it and gold leafing around the corners. She'd given it to him when he told her that he thought he'd found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, not knowing he'd have to wait for a few more years before being able to give it to you. Shota had, and still does, a criminal lack of jewellery to store in it at the time.
You slipped the rings on, they fit together like a sun fits into a crescent moon and gave them a long hard look. They held each other together. You smiled to yourself despite the waves in the bands and the missing stones and decided to go scold your two boys for neglecting the cat.
Hizashi was at the stove, and to your surprise you couldn't smell smoke. Shota was nowhere to be seen, giving you another thing to scold him about. You padded across the floor until you reached Hizashi and wrapped your arms around his waist. You rested your chin on his shoulder and bumped the side of his head with your own.
"I'm sorry." You whispered.
He looked at you, surprise painting his featured. Then he smiled and pressed a long kiss to your temple. "Don't worry your pretty little head about any of it, babe."
He turned around in your arms and hugged you against him, his goofy crooked grin sparking in the morning light. "Can you take over? Shota left and I'm scared I'm gonna start a fire."
You laughed and judging by his wiggling eyebrows he was mighty proud of himself for it.
"Yes, yes." You grabbed the spatula from his hand and gave him a firm rap on the ass. "Go sit down."
He had been attempting pancakes, the batter tasted like crayons but that was nothing a little starting entirely over couldn't fix. So, as quickly as you could, so as to keep suspicion of changing the batter off of you, you whipped up a new mixture. This one spelled of vanilla and was much more pleasant golden-brown in color. You loved Hizashi but if he tried to cook for you one more time you were going to have to do something about it. You made a round and put them on a dish on the counter that was up for grabs, adding to the pile as you went through the batter.
Just as the last pancake hit the plate the door opened, a snow-covered Shota stepping through the doorway. He was greeted by the cats who made a mad dash off of Hizashi's lap where they begged for table scraps, to get to him. He shed his boots and coat and shook the snow out of his windswept hair. His normally pale cheeks and nose rosy from the cold air. He dropped a pile of papers on the counter and reached out to grab a warm pancake.
You smacked his hand lightly with the spatula, giving him a dramatic stink eye.
"What?" he pouted, pulling his hand back towards himself.
"You left him alone to cook while I was asleep, you naughty boy." You scolded. "Do you like this apartment?"
"Feeling better?" he grinned at you, darting his hand out at inhuman speeds to grab a pancake. "Plus, you're like really good at putting out fires."
Hizashi started coughing wildly tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. That little shit was laughing at that. He banged on the table, a spray of chewed pancake pelting the table. As soon as his airway was free a long scream laugh came out, the plate on the counter clattering under the reverberation. While Hizashi found it somewhat mortifying when he accidentally slipped up and lost control of his quirk you found it highly entertaining. It was like when people snort when they laugh only he emitted intense sound waves that sometimes shook the room. Adorable.
You mocked offense and blew a concentrated stream of air at the pancake in Shota's hand, breaking the top half off. It flopped to the floor and the cats began to ravage it as if they hadn't been fed in days. Shota stared at you, a small gasp leaving his lips. There was something happening behind his eyes, something devious.
"Oooooo." Hizashi cheered from his seat at the table, clearly enjoying the show. "What will he do in retaliation?"
Hizashi's voice echoed around the apartment, no doubt the neighbours could hear the bizarre commentary through the walls. Shota's eyes lit up. Just as he started to take a step around the counter towards you Hizashi's phone rang.
"Hello?" Hizashi answered, his hand flying up in a cut it out motion.
Shota sprung forward and you tried to lunge away but he caught you by the waist and pulled you into him. You squeaked and he slapped a hand over your mouth.
"Shhhhh, he's on the phone." Shota whispered monotonously in your ear; he seemed so calm for a guy seeking revenge over a lost pancake.
"Oh, hello principle Nezu." Hizashi greeted loudly, clearly signalling you two to stop. "Yes, he just got in. Did you want me to put you on speaker?"
Hizashi gave the two of you a very stern look, which coming from the human embodiment of a disco was real rich. He placed his phone down on the table and tapped speaker, waving Shota over impatiently.
"You're lucky." Shota pecked you on the cheek and let go of you. He made his way to the table a plopped down next to Hizashi. Watching them work was weird for you, Shota never talked so much without stopping then when he was telling Nezu about reports and Hizashi was rarely so on track with his stories. It was like the opposite of running into your teacher at the grocery store in sweatpants, but it the same mildly unsettling feeling.
You eyed the dishes, you guessed you could do them while they were on the phone. That would be nice of you. But then you remembered that Shota needed to make up for his blatant disregard for your apartment's well-being and letting Hizashi cook unsupervised and thought better of it. Instead you thought a shower would do you well, you hadn't been taking enough of those in the few weeks. Simple things had felt hard lately, brushing your hair, do laundry, showering, even feeding yourself regularly. But today was a good day and keeping with that theme you decided to take care of yourself a bit.
The bathroom was easily your least favorite part of the apartment. Shota and Hizashi were pretty good about letting you take the reins on the apartment. Shota couldn't care less and Hizashi was happy as long as he was allowed to display his American vinyl collection and various posters. You had to veto some of them, the man toed the line of decency on a daily basis and some of those posters wouldn't have gone over well when your parents made the occasional visit. The bathroom is where all of your things combined into one big pile of disorganization.
Shota had one 3-in-1 shower gel bottle that sat in the corner of the shower, unable to sit on one of the over filled ledges Hizashi had crammed full of half empty conditioners. When you had tried to explain your friends how obsessed he was with hair they really only half believed you until you sent them pictures. He used so much hair spray getting his hair to stand up like a cockatiel that he needed to use conditioner to soften the hair before shampooing. Hizashi was also very particular about his fragrances, he'd buy a bottle of something and decide after a few uses he didn't like the smell and so it fell to obscurity in your three-foot by three-foot shower. You used to have a shower caddy you stored under the sink and hung off the door but now a days you just stole from Hizashi's heinous collection. Today the Tea-tree and Eucalyptus Healing Shampoo and Watermelon Summer's Picnic Shower Gel sounded good, you smelled clean anyways.
By the time you were done in the shower you could hear Shota ending the conversation, Nezu's soft melodic voice bidding the pair farewell.
You wrapped yourself up in your towel and padded into your bedroom, a closet filled with all of Hizashi and Shota's clothes and none of yours. Laundry hard. If you were honest you had the most clothes, Hizashi was the high fashion one but wore the same rotation of four or five outfits. Shota, to no one's surprise, owned seventeen pieces of clothing including his two identical hero outfits that were worn to shit. His pitiful wardrobe was made of three colors, black, white and one very bright pair of pink track pants. He wanted to try something new he said, Hizashi never let him wear them out of the house.
You could started to root through the closet or anything that was yours that wasn't formal or professional wear. Your riffled through a pile you had begun to make in the back corner, the pile of hoodies and jeans you'd worn a few too many times, until your hand made contact with a cool leather jacket stuffed away. You pulled it out and it unfurled from its neatly folded square. The fire had left your hero gear melted and burned; some parts even disintegrated in the fire. Your agency had rush ordered a new on for you, that was months ago now. Before you had sat around your apartment sulking and eating for months. You could still fit into it, yeah. No, you totally could.
You dropped you towel and started the process of donning the ensemble, the under shirt fit you like a glove, the familiar breathable sport fabric hugging what small amount of definition you still had. The stab proof vest was still ridiculously heavy, and you had to pull a little harder to get the straps done up at tight as you usually did. But all was still well until you made it to tactical pants. There was very little stretch in the fabric, the heavy cotton offering none what the pleather panels on the side strained around your thighs and hips.
You weren't much bigger by any means but the button was a chore to do up and you filled out places that you hadn't before and when you looked at yourself in the mirror you were reminded again that you were different than before.
A low whistle made you jump. Heat flushed through your cheeks and you suddenly felt like you needed to hide parts of you that weren't even exposed.
"Damn!" Hizashi crooned. "Hey pretty lady, you got a boyfriend?"
You looked over your shoulder to see Hizashi leaning against the door frame and despite his oversized pyjama pants and stretched out t-shirt looking at you up and down over the top of his glasses in the most sensual way.
You look back at yourself in the mirror and pouted. You felt ridiculous that you almost died and the thing you were upset about, at least for the moment, was a little bit of weight gain. You poked your lower stomach and looked past yourself in the mirror at Hizashi.
"I look chunky." You announced sadly.
Hizashi gasped as if he'd just been hit in the chest, a very melodramatic air of incredulous disbelief washing over him. He was the sweetest man in the world, if not the most needlessly dramatic. "I neg your pardon madam but I will no allows you talk about my girlfriend like that!"
You smiled despite yourself. He stepped into the room. "She is a goddess I'll have you know!"
"Zashi-"
"Ho no!" he waved you off. "She is the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on and I will not rest until ye too has seen the light!
"Zashi, stop-" your cheeks were positively on fire now.
"What are you yelling about?" A mess of dark curls and sleepy eyes popped into view through the doorframe.
"This beauty," Hizashi grabbed you by the shoulders. "thinks that she is 'chunky'."
He acted as if the world tasted bad in his mouth.
Shota looked you up and down and shrugged. "I think you look fine."
"Fine? Fine!" Hizashi yelped. "Get out. You're ruining everything I'm trying to do here, Sho."
Hizashi threw his hands up in frustration, waving Shota away like an eccentric artist offended by muse-less subject. Shota put his hands up innocently, looking between you two awkwardly. "She's knows what I mean, Zash."
"Be gone!" Hizashi daring not you look at him.
"Zashi, I know what he meant it's fine." You reach out a grab his dramatically outstretched hand.
"No, you're too good for him." He declares, pulling you in for a hug. "Get out!"
Shota backs away out of sight, hands still raised in innocence.
"Zashi, he-"
"Is the worst." He says, resting his chin on your shoulder. His hands slide down you back, resting on you hips. "I, however, can appreciate a stunning woman and her stunning curves."
You giggle into his shoulder and rest your forehead against his chest. "Thanks."
He's quiet for a moment, his hands slowly drifting south. "Not that you weren't absolutely bangin' before but babe, you're ass in these pants right now is unreal."
You giggled into his chest. He snuggled deeper into your shoulder and breathed you in. He was holding you like he could lose you, as much of him touching as much of you as possible. You knew the last few months had been hard on him, he craved touch. Even now you felt like if he could he'd sweep you up into his arms and never let you go, but he was holding back for your sake. He really was the sweetest man alive.
"Did you- use my shampoo?" he muttered against your hair.
"I'm trying to thin out the herd." You muttered back.
"Sho threw some out the other day." He pulled away, sniffing himself. "I stink."
He really didn't. He was always afraid of smelling bad though.
"Yeah I noticed, I could see the drain." You smirked.
He mock laughed, squinting at you in offense. "If you weren't so hot, I'd be offended."
You felt a cheeky grope of your behind before he darted away at the speed of light, with a stupid grin plastered to his face, into the washroom and locked the door. You sighed and began undressing, even his over enthusiastic pep talk not quite appeasing your dysphoria.
Instead you swiped Shota's shame pink track pants and one of Hizashi's t-shirts. When you stepped into the rest of the apartment Shota was at the kitchen sink washing the last of the dishes from breakfast. He looked up and grinned at your pants.
"You know what I meant right?" he asked.
"Yes." You laughed. The only person that could make Shota second guess anything was Hizashi, his opinion mattered the world to him. Even if he liked to pretend he as too cool to care. "I know."
"Good." He looked down at the sink for a moment. "because I mean that you looked fine because you were saying you looked bad and I just meant that you didn't look-"
You walked across the room and cut him off with a peck on the lips. If you didn't know better you might say that he was afraid he'd offended someone.
"I know." You said again.
"Good." He said again.
"So, what's up at work?" You asked, more so to change the subject than to really get filled in.
Shota knew that but was grateful you were moving the conversation along. "The students are wrapping up their internships this weekend and I have to do some onsite evaluations, Vlad is away on a mission so Zash is filling in for him this weekend. Oh shit, that reminds me. We'll have to be away this weekend. Are you- do you think you'll be okay-"?
"Alone?" you finished his sentence. A few months ago a weekend without the boys would have been like a little vacation, a you weekend. Now it seems like a daunting hurdle you weren't sure you were quite ready to launch yourself over quite yet. "Um, not sure."
You both stood silently for a moment, you could see his mind at work. He sighed. "You could- come along? I could do the students here in Musutafa this afternoon and Zash could probably get his done too and then we can head to Tokyo for the rest of the weekend. If you're up for traveling."
Your mind strayed to your woefully empty closet. You could do laundry or..."And shopping."
"Shopping?" he grimaced. Shota hated shopping, of any kind. While he could cook and even enjoyed it, it was a battle to get him to spend enough time in the market to get all of the ingredients. He'd usually end up calling you on your way home from work and give you an item or two he was too impatient to have picked up during his first trip. Clothes shopping was even worse, hence the impulsive pink track pants, he didn't give himself enough time to think it through.
"I'll shop while you work. Then dinner?" you suggested.
He smiled and hummed in agreement. "Mm, a nice dinner sound good to me."
"A nice dinner?"
"Yeah." He nodded to himself. "We deserve it."
You smiled. Out of the three of you he was the "we have food at home" person in the relationship.
*******************************************
You stared down at the little carry on style suite case on your bed. You had ended up having to throw some of your clothes in with Hizashi's laundry in the end. Your shopping plan did require you to have at least one set of clean clothes to actually go shopping in, after all. And while you were fine wearing the track pants of shame around the apartment you wouldn't be caught dead outside in the real world with them on. Besides, no one would believe they were Shota's and you couldn't do Hizashi dirty like that.
Shota, much to Hizashi's dismay, had booked three tickets for the seven a.m. train to Tokyo. He figured that the sooner you all got there the sooner you could get everything done and the more time he'd have to nap before dinner. Shota preferred taking naps when needed and since he patrolled at night usually, he wasn't prone to long nights of sleep. So, this plan only seemed rational to him. When Shota needed to wake up he woke up, he'd have to sooner or later so why prolong the inevitable, he could just go back to sleep later. Hizashi on the other hand was always savouring things, food, sleep, kissing, everything.
It was only two days, but you had too much stuff for a backpack and too little to really fill out the suitcase, everything would be rattling around in there getting wrinkled and battered. You looked around for anything else you could pack, a pair do shoes you might need, or a jacket you forgot to grab. The only thing you had left out was your hero ensemble, draped over the back of the chair that was crammed into the corner of your small room. It was from your old apartment, before you had met either of the boys and when you moved in the cats seemed to cling to it, so you moved it in the bedroom and got rid of the mulching scratching post Shota had put there. It was there chair now.
You didn't really need it, you knew that. There's a ridiculous amount of heroes in Tokyo, no way you'd be needed for anything. But you did have the space. You looked back and forth between your suitcase and the suit. It would fill the gap. Fuck. Fine. You folded it up quickly and shoved it into the carry on, shutting the bag and zipping it up before you could change your mind. You wouldn't need it. But you shouldn't be caught without it, regardless of the last few months you were still a hero.
"Hey!" Hizashi called from the front door. "I'm- Fuck!"
There was a cluster of small thuds followed by one big thud. Hizashi spewed all the naughty words he knew, and you could hear him fumbling around.
"You okay?" you called turning toward the door of the bedroom.
"Don't!" he huffed loudly. "Don't- just uh, stay in there for a second! Kay?"
The apartment tremored slightly with his exasperation. You smiled to yourself imagining him flailing around trying to pick up a cluster of things, getting increasingly frustrated as they continued to fall. He could be so smooth when he wanted to be but Hizashi was also ridiculously clumsy. None of the dishes you moved in with survived the first two years.
You heard a drawer open and shut, cutlery clattering. Then silence.
"Okay!" he breathed.
You popped your head out of your room. He was leaning against the counter nonchalantly, his arms crossed against his chest and his butt pressed the cutlery drawer closed. A puddle of water forming at his feet as the snow stuck to his jacket and in his hair began to melt. He was trying to tame a smile that tugged at his lips, he was a bad liar. There was a reason Hizashi didn't really go under cover and this was it. He was barely able to hold it together during civilian rescue simulations with students let alone pretend to be a whole other person in life or death situations. While you were sure this wasn't a life or death situation, he was still definitely hiding something.
"Hey." You smiled.
"Hello." He responded.
"How're Vlad's students?" you asked, eyeing the drawer.
"Great! Yeah, no they're killing in." He nodded awkwardly, biting the inside of his lip.
The two of you stood in silence for a long minute, you could see him start to sweat. You looked directly into his eyes, his green orbs alight with something akin to fear. You started to grin despite yourself. The calmer you were the more he started to squirm.
"Hey!" he practically yelped. "Don't you need too...take the cats for a walk?"
He cringed inwards. You shook your head and laughed. Shota must also be a part of this, or he would have cracked by now. As much as you wanted to know what on earth they were up to Shota there would be consequences if Hizashi cracked. "I'm gonna close my eyes and count to fifty."
"Thank-you!" he squeaked from his defensive corner of the kitchen.
You smiled, closed your eyes and began your count. You could hear him jump into action, literally. He was bouncing around like crazy, cutlery rattling, footfalls sporadically sounding around you, rummaging through a bag by the door and eventually the bedroom door closing and locking. You hit thirty and opened your eyes, both of the cats were staring at the bedroom door on high alert after the hurricane of the man. You could hear him being a careful and quiet as possible in your room, shuffling things around in the set of drawers that you didn't put anything in.
You busied yourself with the cats, who after witnessing such a violent storm surely needed some love. You slumped into the couch and pattered across the cushion next to you with wiggling fingers until the grey short haired jumped up and began swatting and pouncing. You ran your hands across the couch wildly until he began finally grabbed on and demanded affection. You massaged his stomach, the vibrations from his purrs running through your fingers lulling you into a half sleep as the apartment turned golden and darkened as the sun set.
Just as your eyes closed and your mind strayed into dream a kiss planted firmly on your forehead brought you back. You blinked back into consciousness and looked up to find Shota, windswept and rosy smiling down at you. "
Sorry." He mumbled. "I didn't know you were asleep when I went in for the kiss."
You smiled up at his sleepily. "Mm no, that's okay. It was a nice wake-up call."
You reached up and picked a chunk of snow out of his hair, tossing it towards the waterproof mat at the front door. "Anyone dead?"
"Miraculously no." he sniffled. "Get to bed, you're going to hurt your back sleeping sitting straight up on the couch like that."
"What time is it?" you lifted your head and looked out the big window in the kitchen, the sky was already a smooth dark blue.
"Just after eight." Shota mumbled. "Have you eaten?"
You shook your head. Shota was the caretaker of the house, while he was never antic like a mother he often found himself checking up on you a Hizashi. Particularly when it came to the basics of taking care of yourselves. It's not that you nor Hizashi were inept at taking care of yourselves, but rather Shota knew firsthand that it can be hard to even feed yourself sometimes. He spent years of his life secluded from people outside of work until he was wrangled into becoming a teacher at U.A. and from what little he talked about that time you got the idea that he was on the barely functioning level for months. "I thought I was only asleep for a few minutes, but it's been like three hours."
"I'll make something, then. Is Zash here?" he padded towards the kitchen, snow and water rolling off of him.
"Yeah. He uh-" you looked to towards the bedroom, the door still closed. "-I think he's in the bedroom."
You walked over to the door and tried the handle, still locked. You pressed your ear against the door and the only thing you could hear was the muffled sound of music and deep breaths. He fell asleep. He locked the door, put headphones on and then fell asleep.
"Sho," he looked over his shoulder at you. "we have a problem. Sleeping beauty has fallen asleep but locked the door on us."
That tired teacher look spread across Shota's face, the look he got when he had to mark essays or fill out yet another accident report for that student who wouldn't stop hurting himself. He leaned his forehead against the fridge and sighed. "I was daydreaming about that bed today."
You walked over to him a wrapped your arms around his waist. "Oh buddy, we can sleep on the pull out."
Shota groaned, placed his hands-on top of yours and muttered under his breath. "Dick."
You placed a kiss on the back of his neck and started to pull him backwards towards the living room. You pulled until the back of your legs hit the couch and then you flopped backwards, pulling him down on top of you. It was a flawed plan from the beginning; he was much bigger than you.
"We can cuddle, though." You wheezed, his body pressing yours into the couch.
He laughed and tried to turn around so he could prop himself up on his arms. "We could have cuddled in the normal bed too."
"Downer." You mumbled into his chest.
He rolled his eyes and leaned back against the couch, sliding an arm under you and depositing himself between you and the back of the couch. He snuggled his face into your shoulder and sighed. You felt him deflating into you, and in turn you melted backwards into him. He was warm but not burning. He took a deep breath though his nose a let out a long yawn.
"S'not bad." He murmured and you knew he was already falling asleep. He was like a cat, if he stayed still for long enough he could just close his eyes and be out like a light. But like a cat, he could jump up whenever he needed too.
You followed his breaths as they evened and slowed and soon you too were slipping into sleep.
*******************************************
Your eyes opened and found darkness, the phantom flames of your dreams still swirling in your mind. You sucked in a cool breath and peeled your sweating back away from Shota who was still holding you against him. You tumbled off the couch, landing on your knees. You grunted as the pain shocked your system, a cool shiver running up you body. Clarity took hold of you and you sunk back onto your legs and leaned your head against the couch. You tried to count your breaths but every time you'd get to two or three you'd get frustrated and choke on a sob before trying to calm yourself again.
A single hand found your cheek and you leaned into it, the feeling of another person grounding you. You could hear Shota clamouring off the couch as he settled into kneeling in front of you. Both of his hands wrapped around your head, pulling you into his chest where the sounds of his breath flooded your sense.
"You're home." He hummed. "I'm here."
You huffed a shaky breath into his chest, trying to let him know you knew. He just ran a hand through your hair and continued whispering soothingly to you. He began to rock side to side slowly, syncing his movements with his breaths. In, left. Out, right. You gripped on to his shirt and followed the rhythm.
"Sorry." You muttered into his shirt when you finally caught your breath.
"M'no, no apologies." He purred. He held you like this until you fell again into sleep, this time is was blank and whole. The world seemed to put itself on pause so you could rest in his arms until you were stirred you awake again by gentle hands. The world still darkened with a sky not yet stained with the early sun's rays.
*******************************************
"Hey, hi. Good morning." A pair of gentle hands brushed your cheek and jaw.
You blinked into the dark apartment, a dim light filtering out of the open bedroom door. A mass of blonde hair haloed in warm light was silhouetted in front of you and as your eyes adjusted you could see the pale gleam of light off of a pair of big round eyes. You scrunched up your face, stretching the stiff skin, dried out with last night's tears. "G'morning sleeping beauty."
Hizashi sighed and hung his head. "That's fair. Can you, can you wake up Sho? It's like quarter after six."
You sat yourself up slowly, still heavy with sleep. "Wake him up yourself, coward."
He was quiet for moment; you could picture the doggy eyes swelling across his face. "But," his voice was soft a sweet and innocent. "I'm scared."
A sharp pain spiked up your spine as you tried to roll you your feet. "I slept on the couch all night, I have no sympathy for your fear."
He sighed and audibly pouted. "Fine."
You struggled to your feet; the second half of the night being spent on the ground was probably what had wreaked so much havoc on your body. Your hips were sore, the dull kind of sore the came along with bruises. The pain in your back was sharper. Something pinched somewhere, and your spine was bent some sort of way because of it. It wasn't over whelming pain, only flaring you breathed inwards and tried to move really at all. You groaned a rolled your shoulders as you clamoured towards the bathroom for a shower you could probably get away with not having but you needed something to help calm your tense muscles.
The warm water hit your skin and even though you knew you had kept it cooler than you ever used to, it started to feel like it was burning you. Like water just edging on boiled was pouring out of the shower head. You leaned off to the side out of the way of the showerhead and turned it down more. The residual spray cooling into a chilled mist. You kept to the edge of the shower as you worked up the courage to go back under the shower head, fearful of the fire that you knew didn't exists.
The shower door opened on you and in jumped a naked Shota, hair wild with sleep and eye circles darkened. His eyes drooped low as he shut the door and promptly cursed as the cool water rained down on him.
"M'awake now." He groaned.
"Sorry." You mumbled and reached to warm up the water. He shook his head and pulled you towards him resting his chin on top of your head. You stand with your face pressed into his bare chest for a moment until you notice his breaths have evened out suspiciously. "Are you using me to hold you up as you sleep?"
"No." he breaths in, pulling away and opening his eyes again.
"We have to hurry, sir." You scold him. The water's temperature finally hitting you with the chill it truly carried. You shivered and turned the tap to the right while scanning the obnoxious amount of soaps in the shower. Shota groans and reaches across you for his single bottle of 3-in-1 shower gel and shampoo and you both begin the process of speed showering.
By the time you were both out and dressed Hizashi had burned two pieces of toast, thrown them out, opened a window, made four more pieces for you and Shota (unburned) and went to warm up the car. Shota, infuriatingly so, was a day of packer. You truly believed he was the only person in the world that could get away with it since his wardrobe was a series of identical item and the forbidden track pants. He threw everything piece of clothing he owned, save the suite tucked far far away and the track pants and took everything to the car.
By the time you three were peeling out of the parking lot, Hizashi the only one awake enough to drive, the sun was beginning to peak up beyond the skyline. You slide into a parking stall at the train station just in time to look up at the departure schedule and find a thirty-minute delay on your train. Hizashi sighs in relief, you could see the sweat pouring down forehead as he drove. You could even see Shota eyeing him worried as he was basically unraveling at the thought of being the reason we had slept on the couch and being late. Hizashi, for all of his confidence in the realm of public speaking and morale upkeep was beyond terrified of being burden. It's why he adapted so quickly with his quirk, sure it has combat capabilities, but he knew he could do more. So, despite your sore back and aching hips you clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he looked up at the sign.
The terminal was empty. A handful of weekend shift workers milled about to and from train platforms but for the most part it was the three of you slouched over various pieces of furniture with your phones hanging out of outlets nearby.
"Coffee?" Hizashi jumped to his feet, his insistent squirming not enough to hold him at bay. Shota had taken to ignoring him this morning unless the matter really demanded his attention. The first and only thing Shota had said directly to Hizashi since waking up was giving him directions. You looked at Shota who was doing and awfully good job at being distracted with a day-old newspaper.
"Yeah, he wants a coffee." You answered for him. his eye twitched, he didn't want to give in, but Shota would also take a coffee IV if given the chance.
"You?" you could hear the disappointment in Hizashi's voice at Shota's persistence.
"I'll come with." You said hopping to your feet. "Guard our stuff."
"With my life." Shota dead panned, not looking up from the newspaper he was staring blanking into.
You and Hizashi explored the west terminal of the train station, there were three different coffee shops and one gift shop with a coffee dispenser. You picked a coffee shop you didn't recognize hoping it was a local shop, most chains in the area being known for burning their coffee terribly. You got some sort of iced coffee with sweetened cream and Shota was order and black coffee. Hizashi spent two minutes staring blankly the menu before panicking and ordering what you did despite having no line behind him and the barista being an absolute sweetheart. Just as she served you your final drink you spied her "Put Your Hands Up Radio" shirt and suddenly realised why Hizashi had panicked.
It was equally adorable and annoying when someone recognized him from his radio show. Adorable because most of the time they were very sweet and he, being the sweetest man alive, would turn into an actual golden retriever. Annoying because it seemed to happen at the worst times, and occasionally they would get to comfortable. You had made the conscious decision a long time ago to let it slide as much as possible but Hizashi was still your partner and you still had to bite back a bark occasionally.
You assumed that running into a fan when his day had started so rough was probably one of Hizashi's nightmares. That, and bugs. Always bugs.
"Is he ever going to talk to me?" Hizashi whined into his coffee.
"Eventually," You hum into yours. "you're too cute to ignore."
Hizashi grinned into his cup. For a man who pays others so many compliments, especially his lovers, he still blushes like a schoolboy when receiving one. You brushed against him and leaned your head against his shoulder. He draped his free arm around your shoulder and the two of you strolled back to Shota.
If you had thought getting comfortable at the train station was difficult then doing so in the train was impossible. The chairs reclined so little that it felt like you went from leaning forwards to sitting straight up. You ended up putting up the armrests in Hizashi's row and using him as a back rest, draping your legs across the two seats next to him. Shota took advantage of his now vacant row and laid down across the seats, his legs hanging off into the isle. Usually it was Hizashi would have to be reminded that you were in public to keep from sitting like an absolute mess in a chair but given that it appeared that there were only 2 other passengers on the train car you and Shota decided you deserved this. Hizashi curled his feet up and stayed completely still for the forty-minute train ride to Tokyo.
*******************************************
Tokyo was a busy as ever, the streets literally swarming with people. Musutafa was a busy place, especially on weekends, but Tokyo as on a whole other level. It was the type of place that you had to keep looking around to make sure you weren't going to get swept away by the crowd. The city felt so much taller than Musutafa, shops stacked on shops topped off with a another few stories of billboards and glowing screens. Everything was bright and vibrant and by the late afternoon your neck was hurting, and you were starting to need that nap Shota had scheduled before dinner for himself.
Shota and Hizashi had gone to the hotel with you and checked in before going their separate ways to find students spotted around the city. Hizashi still pouting as he left having not been graced with another word from Shota since stepping foot into the city. You gave Shota a sour look, but he blinked blankly at you and pretended not to pick up on it before leaving. You looked down at your phone, the battery low from having not had a chance to fully charge it since yesterday. It was quarter to four in the afternoon meaning Shota and Hizashi should be getting back to the hotel in the next couple of hours.
You looked at the set of bags in your hands, it was mostly just jeans a size up from you normal fit and a single dress you decided that you deserved. There was a shop with a double floor tall display window showcasing hundreds of pairs of shoes on the way back to the hotel and as you stared down at your worn-out sneakers you decided you might need some knew footwear as well. You could last one more quick look in a store before calling it quits.
When you got to the store front it was brighter than you remembered it, probably b/c the high afternoon sun had muted the waterfall of swaying LED lights that glimmered behind the showcase. It was a cool blue tinged white light, a few hazy multicolor strings blinking buried deep int eh waterfall. The rhinestones sneakers and patent leather heels shone in the light sending flares everywhere. The store was its own disco ball of overpriced shoes.
You stepped inside and made a b-line for the back corner filled with less glittery and expensive shoes, not that you were completely able to stop yourself from eyeing up a few pairs on the way. After a few minutes you noticed that the street went quiet, but that people were pooling into the store and stumbling back away from the windows. You squinted past the waterfall curtain of lights just as a thunderous roar rang out from the street shaking the shelves in the store.
You ran forwards on instinct, dropping your bags by you side. You weaved your way through the crowd until you reached the doorway. A giant reptilian bird hybrid creature crouched in a halo of upturned pavement, lighting humming through his legs. Fifteen feet away from him two kids, no older than fifteen stood, braced against each other. Both stood rigid, their skin hardened like stone and metal. They mirrored each other, a perfect team. A few feet in front of them the four armed hero, Fourth Kind, skidded to a halt with a trail of dust and his arms thrown up in defense.
You eyed the two young heroes, the one in red suddenly sparking images of evaluation sheets spread across the kitchen table. He was one of Shota's students. Your gut tightened around itself suddenly, now he meant something to you. Though you hadn't met Shota's students this year he was abnormally fond of them. They had brought him a lot of happiness and fulfillment and there was a part of you that felt like you owed them for that. The fire lighting under your feet was quickly extinguished when the creature was joint by a second one, this one more humanoid and spouting fire.
It felt like all the blood flow in your body had stopped, everything rushing down to the ground. You went cold as the flames flared across your vision, your palms stinging. You tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat, you needed to breath. Fourth Kind lunged forward, his sheer strength causing another explosion of pavement was one of the creatures skirted the blow.
The one wielding fire huffed and jumped forward, sending a jet of swirling flames clean over Fourth Kind's head. For a moment you felt a tinge of relief watching it miss the hero until you realized what was in its path. The stream of flames swelled into molten sphere, smoking through the air towards the two students.
Without thinking you shoved your hands forwards and up, a pillar of air rising up in front of the boys. The flames were swallowed by the currents and launched up into the sky, narrowly missing a flying figure before snuffing out. Your palms stung as if you had just touched the fire yourself but now you could feel your blood rushing through you. You stared at the boys who in turn stared back and for a moment the three of you existed in a shocked silence that fell from time.
The ground shook again, the lighting wielding creature pounding it's fists into the ground. Around his sign sparked and blew, puffs of flames and sparks flying everywhere. The three of you refocused, the two of them shoved off of each other and darted in different directions, making it harder for the creatures to get both of them. Your lip twitched; Shota taught them something after all. It's not that you didn't have complete faith in Shota but there was a part of you that feared he perhaps too distant of an instructor at times.
You were suddenly very aware of your body, every inch of you buzzing with life. Beside you a woman gasped and looked on at you, admiration sparked in her eyes. He looked at you like you were a hero... which you realized for the second time this week, that you were. You turned to the creatures and took a deep breath, shoving down the fear that lapped at your guts.
"I got this." You muttered to yourself.
Fourth Kind spared you a glance before gritting his teeth and readying himself for another attack. An idea struck you, it had been a while since you had worked with a team but you mind was starting to catch up again. You jogged forwards and prepared a gust.
"Need a boost?" you called.
"Wouldn't mind it one bit!" Fourth Kind grinned.
You swept your hands forwards, putting your whole torso into the movement, and launched him forwards. He jettisoned into the creature too quickly for it even make an attempt at dodging. You created a pocket of air just under him as he tumbled forward, diffusing it so he could land softly on the other side of the creature's prone body.
You could feel sweat forming on your brow and a part of you scolded yourself, you would have never broken a sweat this soon a few months ago. A set of a heavy wings sounded above you, sweeping dust around your feet. You looked up to find Hawks smirking above you, something a kin to excitement reaching his eyes.
"Wanna give me an updraft?" he asked, already sending himself forward. You shook your head to yourself and began stirring a current for him to ride. He never waited after asking you for some wind, that smug kid would be sure be surprised the day you decided not to provide it.
Within seconds the street began to flood with stray heroes from the area and emergency crews. Lights flashed at either end of the street, barricades no doubt being erected to stop through traffic. You tried to spy the two young heroes, losing them in the chaos of the two creatures battling with no care to their surroundings. The metallic one caught your eyes and he barrelled towards a crumbling pillar to use himself as a substitute. It was a noble effort but he was sentencing himself to death but immobilising himself. You rushed after him with the intent of clearing the building so he could let it fall. Building could be rebuilt but once lives were lost they were gone.
You ducked in and began waving people out of the tiny shop, sending them around the corner down an alley way. When the building was cleared you made sure you were clear of the fall zone. You pulled the student towards you, watching the front half of the building crumble. In a flash a figure came flying at you, four flailing limbs sailing towards you. You huffed a strong breeze at the student next to you, shoving him just far enough away from you that when Fourth Kind made contact he only took you down with him. You tried to cushion your fall with an air pocket, but mis calculated in the confusion and instead landed under the hulk of a man and rolled for a few feet settling in a cloud of dust.
"Get back in there." Fourth Kind gritted his teeth and growled, not missing a beat. "Watch the kid."
You rolled onto your knees and with as much force as you could shoved a pillar of air into his back, shot putting him back into the fray. A second wave of heroes rolled in from the street over and soon you found yourself being more a hindrance with all the close-range fighting. Instead you grabbed the metal skinned student by the collar and hauled him back into the alley.
"Woah, Hey! What's the big idea!?" he growled.
"Stay put kid!" you huffed. "It's a ridiculous amount of paperwork if you die during your internship! Plus Fourth Kind is a fucking terror."
"Hu- What?" his anger, in a split instant morphing into confusion.
"Sit still until I can find Sho- Mr. Aizawa. He'll need to report on your status." You were really, far too out of breath for how little you did.
"Mr. Aiza- who are you?" he exclaimed.
"His- roommate. Let's find your friend." You could feel the road rash blooming across your forearm and down your leg. It felt rough but survivable.
"Kirishima!" the student began shouting instantly. Almost as if by comical convivence the stone skinned kid's head popped around the alley way wall. He scuttled towards you, pure fear etched across his face.
"Phew. I thought Mr. Fourth Kind was going to kill me if I didn't find you!" Despite being covered in dirt and freshly forming bruises he was still smiling a wild toothy grin.
It didn't take long for the pandemonium in the street to come to an end, although it did take more heroes than you would have thought to take down those creatures. You and the boys crept to the edge of the alley way, watching the bustle of the situation being contained. Emergency vehicles sped by, lights flashed and faded off in the distance and heroes filtered in an out. Eventually when the crowd thinned out you spotted the tall cockatiel hair of Hizashi, he was gesturing wildly at a group of students who were trailing behind him like a row of ducklings.
"Come on." You waved the pair of students towards Hizashi.
When the two of you made eye contact through the crowd it was electric, you could see the completely foreign teacher persona fade from him for a split second and the excited puppy you knew so well replace it. He was quick to recover, ushering the line of students along with him as he crossed the street towards you. You could see his arms twitch, fighting back the instant reaction to hug you. You smiled at him and opened your arms. He gladly took the chance to give you a quick hug, it felt all wrong and too casual of course. But it was something.
"Have you seen Sho?" you asked, pulling away from him.
"He hung back a couple of blocks with some students." Hizashi nodded, suddenly very serious. "Those were- uh- things from the USJ attack."
"Oh." A chill ran down your spine as you thought about Shota and what must have happened inside of him when saw them. It was probably pretty similar to that ice cold fear that drained you of your life when those flames first roared past you. "I have one of his students."
You gestured behind yourself.
"And mine!" Hizashi exclaimed. With a dramatic set of finger guns and a discerningly charming smile considering the disaster zone you were standing in he addressed the metal skinned student. "Testutetsu, stay with me my man until Fourth Kind is free to take you back! Alright!"
That deadly seriousness gone before you really knew how to respond to it. He was good at that, keeping the end of the world feelings away. "I'm going to go find Sho, okay?"
"No need." Shota's deep calming voice called from a ways away. Behind him two students trailed, one with an incredible set of wings and a mask pulled over his face and the other with bright yellow eyes and a stupid grin. Kirishima darted towards them, smiling as if he hadn't been pelted my rubble and debris for several minutes. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." You waved him off. He didn't look convinced as his eyes scanned your thigh and forearm. You looked down to see a lot more blood that you were expecting. It didn't hurt as much ach the growing red stains would portray. "They're shallow."
"Let's get it checked out anyways, I have to get Kirishima check out so you might as well come along." He sounded so indifferent. He was usually tired, close to deadpan but in front of his students he really tried hard not betray himself. You knew it was to help keep them calm, if he was calm they were calm. You knew that. It was just weird.
"Mr. Aizawa I'm okay, really!" Kirishima tried to wave him off.
"Don't care." Shota grunted. There he goes, caring. "You're getting a check-up. Stay here."
Shota turned away and wandered off to find some unclaimed ambulances flagging a pair down. The EMTs made their way through the line of students handing out bandages and ice packs where needed. Shota directed you to the other where a young woman helped you some antiseptic and bandage pads. She let you sit on the edge of the loading door to take the weight off your leg until they need to either load someone in or take off.
It took a good thirty minutes, but the students had been filed away with their respective Internship placements and your partners made their way to you. Once he was sure everyone that was immediately recognisable was gone from the street, Hizashi places a quick peck on your cheek and jumped up to sit beside you. He leaned into you, and you into him.
"Are you okay?" Shota asked again, this time his eyes were glued to mine. He was intense like the other night; he wasn't looking at me but into me. "I know one of them had fire."
You let out a breath. The image of the fire still sent a pang fear through you, but you could still breath, could still move. "Yeah. I'm holding it together. Are you?"
"Y-" Shota stopped for second, looking into himself. You gave him a real answer, he owed you one too. That's how you worked. "I'm holding it together."
"Good." You smiled up at him and he relaxed, the faintest of smiled spreading across his lips. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door of the ambulance.
The three of you sat there, silently. The busy world around you thinning out to a moderate crowd. Your eyes started to droop, sleep pulling at you eyelids and willing them to close.
"Hey, do you guys still want to go to dinner?" It was Hizashi who finally broke the silence. You blinked, trying to clear the sleep form your mind.
"No." It was Shota. "I just want to go to sleep."
You nodded against Hizashi's shoulder and hummed in agreement. It was quiet again. Only this time you could feel Hizashi moving underneath your head, he was trying to be subtle but even with your eyes closing you could tell he was trying to communicate with Shota. Shota pulled away from the ambulance and took a few steps away, facing the street. You watched him fidget with his pockets, he was nervous. Suddenly you were nervous.
You leaned away from Hizashi a looked to him, concern evidently across your face. He instantly went into reassurance mode, his voice awkwardly squawking once or twice, shaking the ambulance. "D-don't worry! It's not bad! Sorry we just uh-we-"
"We wanted to give these to you at dinner and make it kind of special." Shota explained. He had turned around and squatted down in front of you. In his hands he held a rather large jewellery box, six rings sitting neatly inside. Four of them simple bands, one rim on each begin made up of interlocking designs with the other. The top on one gold, the bottom silver. The last two rings were almost exactly like the two warped rings on your finger currently, the two metals matching the pairs of bands.
"We never had matching sets really, so we thought, since yours got ruined it was a good excuse to get some made." Shota scratched his beard awkwardly.
You were smiling. It was a big, dumb, lovestruck smile. It was that smile you had when your high school boyfriend showed up on Valentines days with a teddy bear. It was a puppy love smile. "I- can I put it on?"
"Oh, yeah!" Shota took yours out of the box and reached out for you hand. You gave it to him, and he gingerly slide your old rings off, making sure not to disturb the bandages around your wrist, and slide the new set on. He stepped back and look a long look at it.
"Zashi did the designing, obviously." Hizashi's ears pricked up at the direct mention of his name for Shota. He looked up at him shyly.
Shota rolled his eyes and chuckled. He started taking one of the sets of bands out of the box. "Give me your hand, Goldie Locks."
DONE! This i think is it. This second part became a bit of beast when i really got into it and because i hate releasing un finished work I sort of had to force myself finish it. I'm worried that if I try to continue this story I'll end up killing someone because catch me only being able to write sad shit. I hope you enjoyed the read!
ALSO!!! I've been asked for some fluff and it will come, i just need to chill for a bit. Holding Together was 38 pages long and I wrote it in just over a week.
Storge (Familial Love)Pt.2- EraserMic x Student!Reader
This post includes: Mentions of loss of family, cursing, mentions of fiscal problems, mild violence and injury, a prominent homosexual relationship, and mentions and depictions of anxiety.
Original Request: “Imagine living all by yourself. You’re a teenager that lost their parents years ago and refused to become a part of the foster system. So now you work and take care of your own apartment all while going to school at U.A. It was starting to take a real toll on you when Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Yamada approached you, like concerned parents. It could be written as platonic or romantic. (Not with the reader, I'm talking about Mic and Eraser)”
Authors Note:
As per usual I over wrote! This will be divided into two chapters. I went off on a bit of a tangent with this one but to be fair i wrote the first half over two months ago and the second half this week.
That day you walked home in your new coat; the wind’s bitter teeth unable to gnaw at your bones like it used to. When you reached your front door, you didn’t want to shrug it off and toss it into the pile of sweaters and hoodies you kept near the door for cold days. You wanted to keep it on even if that meant, for the first times since the weather had changed, you’d be sweating through your clothes. It was new, you like new. It was a gift; you’d forgotten how much you like gifts. You cooked in the coat, did your homework in your coat and eventual fell asleep on your couch swaddled in the warm fur hood.
When the sun broke through your blinds the next morning you uncurled yourself, reluctantly peeling off the coat in favor of getting some fresh air on your sweaty skin. You checked the time on your phone, 5:32 AM. It was still early and you wagered you could sneak in a couple more hours of sleep before you had the be in class, but you overflowing kitchen garbage can caught your eye and you decided you’d rather use this time to maybe take care of somethings you’d let slide. First order of business was to clean your dishes, the counters, and gather all the miscellaneous trash scattered around your apartment. The second was to take said trash to the complex’s communal waste bin across the parking lot. Your apartment was starting to look like a functioning home again, the next thing to go was the pile of warm layer next to the door, you wouldn’t be needing those anymore.
The snow crunched under your feet, more had fallen throughout the night and it hadn’t yet been disturbed by the day’s traffic. The sky was pink and the rooftops white, and in the early morning silence your neighborhood didn’t look half bad. You lifted the heavy metal lid to the trash bin, tossing your over-stuffed bag before the seams could give way. With a clang you dropped the lid, the sound resonating through the streets. A dog barked in response and the world returned to silence.
You took a deep breath of crisp clean air and for a moment everything faded, only the blazing sky and your swirling breath mattered. Then the snow behind you started to crunch, footsteps moving closer. You turned around, suspicious of anyone else up and about this early in the morning. You were met with two familiar sleepy eyes peeking out from behind a thick grey scarf.
“Mr. Aizawa, G-good morning?” you greeted awkwardly.
“Uh, yeah. Good morning.” He said back, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I’m- just heading back from a night patrol. Sorry if I startled you.”
“I didn’t know you patrolled around here.” You’d never seen him before, which you guessed was technically the point.
“I-” he paused. “Just expanded my patrol range recently.”
“Oh, good to know.” You smiled at him; you rarely saw heroes here. If you did it wasn’t for long.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you in class.” He started to turn away.
“Hey, Mr. Aizawa?” An idea suddenly popping into your head. He paused and looked back at you. “I- since I have my provisional licence I’m allowed to patrol with a licensed hero and if you’re in the area on my night off-”
“No.” He said, turning back away. “You’re too loud. I’m sure Mr. Yamada would be willing to take you on patrol, if you ask nice enough. He can’t stealth to save his life.”
“I am not!” you huffed. “I can stealth if I want to!”
Still turned away from you chuckled. “Prove it in class today, then maybe.”
He started away again and in mere second scaled your building and leap across the roof out of view. You made you way back to your apartment, taking care to step slowly and as carefully as the snow would allow it. You’d show him stealth!
Mr. Aizawa wasn’t kidding about class. The whole obstacle course was built around stealth, evade capture for thirty minutes with no use of force and pass. It was in teams, you failed, your team also failed. You, as you were fully aware were, the least subtle out of your teammates. He had grouped you together on purpose, you knew it. You had to think logically, you had to plan to move around as little as possible. You ended up pulling a cluster of debris around you and your team in the middle of what looked like a junk yard, using your power to keep them in place as All Might thundered around looking for you.
While it definitely was suspicious that this pile of debris wasn’t moving while the world’s strongest hero was lunging around, shaking buildings with each impact Mr. Aizawa passed your team. You were dismissed early for lunch with your team, beaming as you left the training grounds. You’d passed, proved you were stealthy.
After you had wrapped up your lunch you decided to head back to your home room early, you were tutoring a first year in history and needed to take time to refresh your memory. Why not in an empty classroom?
You knocked on the door tentatively, hoping Mr. Yamada had taken his lunch outside of his room. That, however, wasn’t the case. “Hello?”
You slid the door open a fraction. Mr. Yamada and Mr. Aizawa sitting across from each other on two student desks, a convenience store bought bento open between the two of them. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt I was looking for a quiet place to study.”
“Your always welcomed in your homeroom! Come in, we’ll keep the talking to a minimum.” Mr. Yamada waved you inside as he hopped off his desk to grab a white steaming cup from the edge of his desk. “What are you studying?”
“First year history.” You held up your worn out textbook. “I tutor some of the underclassmen.”
“Any from my class?” Aizawa asked.
“E-Eijiro Kirishima.” You were pretty sure he was in Mr. Aizawa’s class, the kid sure complained about him enough anyways.
“Hm.” He shrugged to himself. “I wondered how he suddenly started passing most of his tests.”
“Speaking of passing…” you trailed off looking at Mr. Aizawa expectantly.
“Yes, you did.” He sighed into his coffee.
“See, I can be stealthy!” you exclaimed, clutching your book to your chest.
“No, you can hide. You tripped over your own feet leaving for lunch.” Mr. Aizawa grumbled.
“But you passed me!” You chirped. “You said that if I passed you’d take me on a patrol!”
“I said maybe I’d consider it” he corrected you.
“Sho.” Mr. Yamada chided him, eyes peering over his orange glasses.
“I-” Mr. Aizawa looked at his partner, then over to you. You gave him the sweetest smile you could muster, Mr. Yamada doing the same. “When’s you’re next night off?”
“Thursday.” Your smiled grew genuine.
“I’ll be in your neighborhood around 8, take a nap after school and don’t be late the next day.” He instructed, eyeing Mr. Yamada frustratedly.
“Yes, sir!” you bowed. You began backing out of the room.
“Aren’t you going to study?” Mr. Yamada called as to were just about to breach the doorway.
“Right! Yes, thank-you!” You scurried forward, taking your usual desk and opening the textbook.
The next few days passed, work claiming your evening, classes taking up your days until you found yourself lacing up your boots at your front door waiting for 8 o’clock on Thursday evening. You’d seen Mr. Aizawa once in your neighborhood since Tuesday morning, and he was sporting a bruise that seemed to disappear by the beginning of class that very same day. You supposed he had access to Recovery Girl’s powers in the morning before the building filled up with students.
You leaned against your window frame, staring out into the parking lot waiting for the familiar darkly dressed silhouette to appear against the snow. When he finally leaped down from your roof you raced out the door to meet him. you slide to a stop in the slippery snow, spattering his legs with wet slush.
“Subtle.” To your surprise an entertained grin tugged at his lips. “I have a specific surveillance target tonight. I want you to get your patrol experience but if I tell you to turn tail or stay back you do as I say, got it?”
You nodded. “Who is it?”
He stared walking; his footsteps impossibly silent in the dense snow. You now realize, if had wanted to hide his presence the other morning, he could have. You tried to mimic his soft steps, but your pace suffered and you found yourself trailing behind him.
“His alias is Earth Breaker, he’s an elemental type villain. He can control earth at his will, that means projectiles of stone and a solid defense.” Mr. Aizawa briefed you.
“Any we’re surveying him because?”
“Remember that apartment complex that went down last month about six block from here?”
“That was him?”
“Yeah. He killed lots of people in that building.” Mr. Aizawa paused and looked at you. “I’ll tell you when we need to stealth you can just walk normally for now.”
You straightened up and jogged to catch up to him matching his strides until he began to slow about six blocks later. He held up a hand and turned to you. “Stay fifteen feet back, don’t lose me.”
You nodded and strayed off to the side of the sidewalk where a hedge of wild bushed would give you quick cover if you needed it and began to follow Mr. Aizawa from a distance. He ducked into an open gate, melting into the darkening yard, you hugged the fence and peered into the dark until you caught a glimpse of him moving again. He darted across the yard and you ducked into the gate just in time to see him jump the farthest fence. You dashed to the fence, careful to slow down so you didn’t make a loud impact against it. On the other side Mr. Aizawa’s rough voice whispered through the gaps in the wood. “The house across the street to the east, you see it?”
You looked to the east along the fence, you were in a perfect position to keep an eye on the top floor of windows. “Yeah.”
“Keep an eye on the top windows, I’m moving in. Text Mr. Yamada- Hizashi- the street name and district if things go awry. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary. Understood?” this a quiet thud a phone landed at your feet, a text chain with Hizashi already on the screen.
“Roger.” You nodded, grabbing the phone from the ground. You heard him leave but not where he went, and for several long minutes you waited in silence. Nothing in the windows stirred save the lights going on in a room, then going out again. You pre-typed the text to Mr. Yamada in case you had to send it quick and waited. You kept waiting. The street was so silent that you felt as though outside of yourself time had stopped.
You sat in limbo until suddenly the ground beneath you began to tremble. Waves of tremors rolled past you, flowerpots clattered on their saucers and fences began to sway. You stood up and dashed toward the gate, fighting against the tremors to stay on your feet. A loud bang rang out through the streets, echoing from the house across the street. You latched onto the top of the gate and peered over it just in time to see a cloud of dust washing towards you. You ducked until the worst of it washed passed you, by this time lights all around the neighborhood had begun to turn on a civilian peaked out of windows and doors.
You held your breath and hauled yourself over the fence, landing in a bed of flowers, you felt a tinge of guilt about crushing. Through the settling dust you could see the front of the house you’d been watching; it was covered in dust and the front door was hanging on by a single hinge. In the doorway a hulking man stood, his arms braced against the door frame which had fishers running through it that bled into the walls. His eyes were a light with an animalistic rage, the type of rage only a mad man could carry inside.
As the dust continued to roll back you could see more of the street, rocks and dirt scattered everywhere. Shingles and chunks of siding rained down from the house and bounced off the street. Mr. Aizawa crouched in the street, dust rolling off of him as he shielded the bottom half of his goggled face. You looked at the phone in your hand then back at him, he still seemed so calm. You left the message unsent.
“A SPY?!” The man in the doorway roared. He brought one of his great fists down onto the stone walkway at the front of the house and a fissure formed, snaking across the ground towards Mr. Aizawa. “THEY SENT ANOTHER SPY?!”
Mr. Aizawa launched himself backwards, barely escaping the crumbling ground beneath him. He should have been faster; you could have gotten away quicker than that. You watched as he landed, quickly shifting his weight to his left foot immediately after hitting the ground. He’s hurt.
You hit send. Better safe than sorry.
Earth Break fired off two quick fire blasts, Mr. Aizawa easily skirting one but heading straight into the middle of another. You shot out your hand and thought about pulling him towards you out of the way. He grunted as he was jerked backwards, landing and sliding into the grass. He side glanced at you, keeping his head turned towards the enemy. His hand hung at his side flinched, his fingers motioning for you to back up. You did as you were told, scrambling sideways into some bushes that lined the yard you were in. He stood and took off, even on his injured leg he managed to fade away into the night.
Behind you a low creak altered you to someone peeking out of the front door. You turned around and saw a man wrapped in his house coat staring wordlessly at the behemoth across the street currently smashing apart the driveway. You whistled quietly at him, his eyes darting to you. He stopped himself from shouting in surprise with a hand over his mouth and a calming breath. You crawled closer to him with a finger help to you lips.
“Get back inside, to the rear of the house!” you whispered.
He looked back across the street and his eye swelled with fear as he took a step back inside the house, this time a yell escaping him. You spun around to see a chunk of the road hurdling towards the house. Thinking quickly, you darted towards it and just as it passed over head pulled it towards you with your quirk. You rolled to the side narrowly escaping being totally crushed, instead getting away with a nasty gash in your arm from a stray piece of rebar. You jumped to your feet and looked back at the house, the owner was a few feet inside frozen with fear.
“Run!” you shouted at him. With a tremendous grunt behind you another chucked of road was launched towards you.
“ANOTHER ONE!” he roared.
You darted in the only direction you could at the moment, the house. You rushed in through the door, and pushed the man inside along as you did. You breached the kitchen just as the boulder crashed through the doorway, tearing into the walls as it did. Debris flew everywhere, pieces of wood and insulation filling the air. You pulled the man through his house until you both burst through into the backyard.
“Keep going!” you huffed as you spun around and darted back through the house.
You breached the crater where the front door had once been, the shadow of a massive dust storm beginning to swallow the top of the house. Rocks and dirt and chunks of boulders began whipping around, leaving the house was next to impossible unless you wanted to be bludgeoned with debris. Windows shattered, the ground shook and the foundation began to crumble beneath you. The cement base tore through the carpeted floors in spears, you had to jump left and right narrowly avoiding serious injury until you made it to the stairs where the spears were having a harder time getting at you.
Then everything stopped, the spears crumbled into sand and the ground stilled. The house moaning as it settled back into its uneven foundation. The street quieted, almost back to the timeless silence before the chaos had begun. A single roar of anger pierced the air, cut short with a grunt. You steadied yourself on the stair railing and made your way on uneasy legs to the front yard. Mr. Aizawa stood, covered in dust and debris, with a single boot pressed into Earth Break’s chest. His hands pulled tightly on his capture weapon, restraining the boulder of a man below him.
The street began to fill with lights and sirens, the cool blue darkness of the night flooded with red and white. Police piled out of their cars and vans to load the villain into an armoured truck for transport. You plopped down onto the front steps, brushing aside an uprooted plant. You sat and watched the arrest, watched how many officers it took to contain just one man. He was the definition of raw power, one stray kick tearing off a police car door.
Once he disappeared into the truck you leaned back onto your arms, you were beat. You were sore and exhausted, but you were also in a strange perverse sense happy. Perhaps it was the adrenalin of what you’d just gone through still coursing through your system or the afterglow of a technically successful patrol, but you felt like this was what you were meant to be doing. This hero thing, this was for you.
When a pair of ambulances arrived, you watched as the paramedics jumped into action. One of them offering medical treatment to Mr. Aizawa who, you had only just noticed, was making a b-line towards you. He waved off the paramedic, limping towards you on his injured leg.
“Are you alright?” He grunted, lowering himself onto the step next to you.
You looked over yourself, your sleeve was torn, and arm was scratched up from the rebar in the boulder but you would live. It immediately started to thrum with pain when you looked at it, the blissful ignorance of adrenaline wearing off as soon as you actually took stock of the injury. You were covered in dirt and dust, but you still felt good, despite your injuries.
“Yeah. Just a scratch.” You shrugged. “How’s your leg?”
“I’ll live.” He grumbled looking down at his torn pant leg. “Thanks for that by the way, the save earlier. Even if you did put yourself directly into harm’s way, like an idiot.”
You chuckled to yourself. There was always a learning opportunity with him.
“No problem?”
You both sat in silence for a moment, watching some of the police cars start to leave. It was him who spoke next. “So, where’s my phone?”
“Oh,” you looked over your shoulder at where you had dropped it, a large boulder sitting in the wake of a deep groove in the lawn. “it’s-”
“Under that boulder?” he sighed.
You nodded solemnly; you couldn’t afford to replace that phone.
“Well, at least it’s not you under the boulder.” He turned back to face the street.
Was that… a glimmer of fondness? You smiled to yourself, a familiar warmth blooming in your chest. You still missed that, people being glad to have you around. You didn’t really spend enough time around people to feel that anymore.
“Okay,” Mr. Aizawa pushed himself to his feet. “let’s get that armed checked out.”
“It’s a scratch, I’m fine.”
“It’s flesh eating bacteria waiting you kill you.” He said, pulling you up with surprising strength for a guy with a bum leg. It wasn’t quite the same as Mr. Yamada’s unbridled kindness, but you got the feeling this was Mr. Aizawa’s version of fussing over you.
***
“Hey.” There was a quiet knock at the door of your room. You looked away from the fuzzy TV screen to find Mr. Yamada leaning up against the door frame, a disappointing looking cup of coffee in his hand.
“Hi. What’s are you doing here?”
“Sho- Mr. Aizawa had to get an x-ray for his ankle so I thought I’d stop by and keep him company while he waited.” Mr. Yamada looked over his shoulder, sighed, shook his head and turned back to you. “It would seem he needed so such company though.”
“What do you mean?” You gestured at the chair in the corner of the examination room for him to sit.
“Well,” he gladly took the seat, propping his boot clad feet up on a basket of magazines. “he’s been on the phone passing around the emergency room, probably hurting himself even more. He’s giving the station an ear full right now, he’s not very happy with them.”
“Why? They came pretty quick.” You picked at the paper rolled out across the bed.
“You.” Mr. Yamada placed the cup in his hands on the ground and looked up at you. “He only let you patrol with him because the report he was given on Earth Breaker misclassified him in threat level.”
He leaned back into the chair, sinking down like a bored teenager trying to slip away. “I’ve never heard him chew someone out for so long.” Mr. Yamada grumbled.
“Really?” You didn’t really know what to say, partially because you couldn’t picture Mr. Aizawa being upset and the other part because you were trying not to fall asleep. The adrenaline had worn off about half an hour ago and the pain meds the nurses gave you were strating to lull you to sleep.
“Yeah.” Mr. Yamada pushed himself back into a proper sitting position, tucking one leg under himself. He was obviously uncomfortable in the wooden waiting chair. “I was surprised when the nurse said you were still here, I thought you’d have gotten stitched up and went home.”
You blinked a few times, begging your eyes to stop drooping.
“I have to wait for my case worker to come get me, since I’m a minor leaving the hospital after treatment is kind of tricky. I can’t check myself out.” You shrugged.
Mr. Yamada sighed, not particularly happy with his new position but seemingly not bothered enough to fix it either. “How long have you been waiting?”
“I called and left a message like, an hour and a half ago.” You looked down at your phone, there was a new crack in the screen. No New Messages.
“And?” Mr. Yamada asked.
“Well, it’s currently 2:30 in the morning,” you breathed, “so I assume she’s asleep. If I don’t hear form her in another 30 minutes the hospital will call child services and they’ll send an overnight clerk to get me.”
“Shit.” He mumbled. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Yeah. Mr. Yamada?”
“Mm?” he looked at you, his body sliding down in the chair.
“Don’t expect me to make to class on time tomorrow okay?” you grinned. You were tired and it was the best approximation of a joke you could make.
“I’d be upset if you even showed up.” He huffed, pushing himself up.
You both sat in silence for a few minutes, the distant gruff voice of Mr. Aizawa lecturing someone filling quiet. You looked at the TV for a bit, our eyes burning with exhaustion. You tried to read the medical posters, but the reading made it hard for you not to nod off. Eventually, after a particularly long blink Mr. Yamada spoke up.
“Lie down, go to sleep. I can wake you up when someone comes to get you.” You were about to protest when he reached up a turned off the lights. The open door still letting in the cool light from the hallway. “Shhhhhhhh.”
You could have sworn you’d seen his silhouette sink down in the chair as his shush came to an end. While you hated the idea of sleeping around other people you couldn’t fight the urge to close our eyes and fine rest.
***
“Should we wake her?”
“We have to, she has to sign a form before she can leave, Zashi.”
“Shit, right!.....Hey Sho?”
“Mmmm?”
“Thank-you.”
A hand gently shook your leg, waking you from your shallow sleep. You blinked into the dark room, a figure leaning in the doorway, silhouetted by the hall lights. At the end of the paper topped bed was Mr. Yamada, or rather his very recognizable silhouette. Still dazed with sleep you rubbed your eyes and started to pull yourself up, the paper crinkling and tearing under you.
“Hey, kiddo.” He greeted softly.
“They here?” you mumbled, stifling a yawn.
“No, no, no.” he seemed somewhat nervous, glancing behind him at the figure in the doorway. “Mr. Aizawa called in a favor with someone at Child Services, he got permission to check you out. We’ll give you a lift home.”
You blinked. You weren’t entirely sure if you understood what was happening, you were too tired to really care. Home sounded good and he said you could go home. You nodded anyways and slid off the table, Mr. Yamada putting a pre-emptive supportive arm around you. You were on auto piolet, the pain meds and sleepy daze that hung over your head making it impossible for you to fully wake up. You signed some paper, a nurse said something nice. Mr. Aizawa looked…soft. No, nice…nicer than usual.
Then you were in the back seat of Mr. Yamada’s car, drifting off against the car door and dim streetlights passed you by.
***
You woke up to the sun piercing through your blinds, hot rays of light warming your chilled skin. Your room, perusal was chilly, though you were curled up under several blankets. You stretched and groaned, the that fog that hung over. You last night lifting. Lifting. Lifting. Lifted. Panic. You shot straight up, your aching muscles expressing their displeasure at the sudden movement. You looked around for your phone, it was usually under your pillow but then again you didn’t even remember getting into bed.
You didn’t really remember getting home or leaving the hospital. You ran your hands up and down the bed until your phone caught your eye as it rested atop to dresser across the room. You crawled across the bed, stumbling to your feet and looked at the time. 12:14 pm. You’re heart sank. It was Friday and you were late, again. Then your eyes caught sight of a folded piece of paper, a hastily written note on the back of your grocery receipt.
‘Don’t you dare come to class today. Here’s my number, send me message when you wake up. Let me know you’re not dead. -Mr. Yamada.’
You looked down at yourself as the panic subsided. You were in the most basic configuration of your hero costume, the jacket, gloves boots and utility items were folded up next your phone. All that remained what your pants and undershirt, both in need of some patch work and cleaning. You dethatched all of the pieces that couldn’t be washed and gathered up those that could and threw them in the communal washing machine on the floor below. When you reached your apartment again all you wanted was to eat and shower, but you typed out a brief, to the point text and sent it.
‘Not Dead. – Y/n.”
A hot shower warmed you right up. You got a better look at the bruising on your arm and knees, noting too serious nor life threatening. In fact, you’d think you’d probably gotten worse during training. When you got back to your phone you quickly found out Mr. Yamada was an emoji texter. You could only imagine how he and Mr. Aizawa’s message exchanged must look now.
Glad the hear it! Got something I wanna talk to you about when you have time!’
‘IT’S NOT BAD! I promise!’
‘Is there a time I could stop by this weekend?’
‘Mr. Aizawa would be there too or course! Not like a one on one thing, that would be weird.’
You could see his energy channeling into texting anxiety. You checked your work schedule, you had day shifts this weekend so any night would work. You responded as such, suddenly realizing you had invited them over to your dumpy apartment. You could kick yourself. You looked around; this place was so rundown that it needed to exorcized of its dust. You flopped back onto the bed, dreading all the cleaning you had ahead of you. To top it off you had a night shift to get ready for.
***
Saturday. Within the next day you had gone to work twice and between shifts thrown out everything that wasn’t wearable, washable or too offensive to be allowed continued existence. By the time you were moderately happy with your place it looked like a college dorm pre-move in. It’s not that your place had much personality to begin with, but over the last few months the mess had become your only sense of self here. Between your busy schedule and lack of motivation to do anything outside of work and school, you had gotten comfortable living in the product of that life. Despite the stress of having guests over to a home you were ashamed of, the cleanliness was…nice. You could get used to this.
You were almost able to enjoy the new environment when a knock sounded at your door and your gut squeezed in on itself. You tried to relax, telling yourself that they weren’t going to judge you. They fought villains for a living, you were not their idea of a bad person. A bad apartment doesn’t make you a bad person. You still felt shitty, though.
You opened the door. The two of them stood in the hall, shoulder to shoulder, in casual clothes. Mr. Aizawa looking tired, but not as frustrated as he seemed to be when lurking in the halls at U.A. Mr. Yamada was bright and smiling, without the cockatiel hair he seemed less larger than life, more puppy-esque.
“H-hi!” He greeted.
“Hey.” You smiled back politely. Okay, now let them in. “C-come on in.”
It took you a second to open the door wider and step aside, hopefully they didn’t notice. Who were you kidding, Mr. Aizawa definitely noticed, hopefully Mr. Yamada was still unaware of your currently mortified state. You turned around; they were taking in your space. You followed their eyes. Your walls were too bare, your couch sagged awkwardly in the middle, you didn’t even have a kitchen table.
“This is nicer than your place when you first moved out.” Mr. Aizawa mumbled under his breath, ginning as he elbowed Mr. Yamada.
“I mean,” Mr. Yamada blushed. “there’s a reason that building doesn’t exist anymore.”
“Did you guys want to sit? I have… water?” Yes, those were things you said when you had guests.
“No, thanks.” Mr. Aizawa said, nudging Mr. Yamada towards the couch.
“O-okay.” You rubbed your arm awkwardly.
The three of you went towards the couch, the couple sat on the couch and you leaned against you leaned against the T.V. unit. Silence hung in the air; it was a dense silence filled with unspoken words. You were nervous, it felt like you were doing your own parent-teacher interview. Mr. Aizawa remained ever calm, he looked almost serene compared to, not only how you felt but also, to how Mr. Yamada’s vibrating leg betrayed him to be feeling.
“So,” Mr. Aizawa started.
“So,” Mr. Yamada trailed behind. With a stern look from his partner he continued. “I know, when you lost your parents you didn’t want to be mix matched with other families.”
A strange feeling began rising from your stomach, it was somewhere between anxiety and comfort. It made no sense, but you pushed it down and let him continue.
“And since you’ve been on your own you’ve done really good for yourself.” He fiddled with a loose thread on a tear in his jeans. “But there are some drawbacks, like last night with the whole hospital thing, right?”
You nodded. Wanting desperately not to jump to the conclusion you felt tickling the back of your mind.
“I, uh, I was… Well, we were-” Mr. Yamada swallowed hard.
“We were wondering if, just until you turn 18, you would consider letting us foster you.” Mr. Aizawa has said it but all you could see, and feel was the sheer panic and surprise of Mr. Yamada’s face.
“Y-you want…to-” you breathed. That warm feeling refused to be repressed any longer and spray forth, a bright shiny joy engulfing you. You had thought you didn’t want this, that you were better off just waiting out your years as a minor. You hadn’t thought about how much you missed family in a long time, how much you missed having people fuss over you and worry about you and even make assholes of themselves for you.
“It’ll also be easier if you go on school trips or want to apply for a licensing exam, we can even help out with, like, normal everyday life stuff maybe.” Mr. Yamada threw in.
You grinned to yourself. You had five months left to be a kid.
