#mha reader insert | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

acerathia · 10 months

Text

Summary:

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

Pairing:

Midoriya Izuku / Reader

Wordcount: 11.3k

Read it on AO3

Tags/CW:

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

Note:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is going to suck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can we talk?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, thank you, I didn’t know that…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #bnha reader insert #meet fruit collab #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #izuku x you #izuku midoriya x you #deku x reader #deku x you #mha reader insert

359 notes · View notes

lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 4 months

Text

Dabi being obsessed with his sister HC

Warnings: yandere personality, sibling x sibling, dubcon, just a reason to write out this scenario, dark content, very dark, mdni for your own safety, coercion, dabi being a lil tyrant, innocent goody hero!reader, yes sibling incest involved, again don’t read if you don’t like any of the tags, non canonical timeline obv, aged up!reader, dark content be ahead!, 18+ only, i really have no excuse for this 🤷🏽‍♀️

From the hair, Dabi knew right off the bat that you were one of the many Todoroki children; his sibling

What he didn’t anticipate was how much power you would have over him the moment you met his ice blue gaze

A morbid obsession forms in that instant

His signature crazed grin emblazoned on his face that makes you squirm uncomfortably. You’d heard that this villain, Dabi, was once your eldest brother Touya. This patched up monster couldn’t possibly be Touya. Even if you didn’t remember him much, his pictures looked nothing like the creature that stood before you amidst blue flames.

“You’ve certainly grown into a lovely young lady.” He practically cooes out with that husky voice of his. To force more distance between both of you, you lash out with your flame whips to get him back. White hot flames bite at Dabi but instead of hissing in pain, Dabi’s grin stretches wider. Like he was proud of you and your quirk. Where was your back up? You were strong but there was no way you were winning a fight against this seasoned villain.

You’re about to call out for Shoto who you were always paired with as twins were endeared by the public. Before you could even push the first syllable out of your mouth, Dabi moves in a flash and has his hand covering your mouth as he tackles you to the ground.

“Look at those pretty mismatched eyes.” He’s chirping while he paws at your face, turning it this way and that. You’re shocked still at his actions. He could have easily killed you then and there. But he didn’t. When your brain starts to work again, you use your fiery hot quirk to dispel him away from you. Your quirk was affecting him physically but Dabi didn't mentally acknowledge the damage that was eating away at what skin remained on his arms. Charring it until the flames even started to eat away at the leather stapled patches that were covering the previously damaged parts of his skin.

There wasn't much you were afraid of except for your father. But Dabi not reacting to the pain terrified you. What human didn't feel pain?

"Aw what's wrong baby sister? Do I scare you? Yeah I know I don't have much of a pretty face anymore." His hand rubs against his chin, thinking back to what age you must have been when he'd "died". "Rest assured though, I'm your big brother." Like that would make everything better. He was still speaking so sweetly to you.

Why wasn't anyone else showing up? You didn't like the hungry stare that refused to leave you.

You swallow back fear that hammered in your throat "Villain, stay where you are. You have the right to remain silent, but any villainy you commit can and will be used against you in the court of justice."

Dabi really laughs at that. "Oh you're cute." He holds out his wrists in surrender. "You gonna handcuff me Ms. Hero? I'm sure you'll become Japan's Number One Hero if you bring me in." Mockery drips off every word. He wasn't taking you seriously.

Finally you feel the stinging cold of Shoto's ice strike past you and toward Dabi. It was clear that he rushed all the way there. Behind him are the rest of the heroes assigned to the district.

With ease, Dabi dodges the icy spikes of Shoto's fury. He cocks his head your way. No matter what his eyes never strayed from you. "What do 'ya say, Ms. Hero? When you're ready, come find me."

He was gone, swift in his retreat.

His whole reason for being changed that day. The Paranormal Liberation Front had never really been his passion anyway. It was just his means of getting revenge against Endeavor. But he realized he could have his cake and eat it too.

84 notes · View notes

summerinthecloudsx · 1 year

Text

Warning: minors DNI. All characters 21+, drinking, suggestive content, gross pervs, protective Kirishima

Kirishima is so…unassuming at the club. He’s so sweet and bubbly, so no one gives a second thought when you give him a short kiss before you leave his side to go dance with your friends. And he’s just watching idly while he talks to his friends at the bar, smiling whenever your eyes meet.

You’ve had quite a bit to drink at this point. It’s obvious with the carefree way you tilt your head back, royal blue lights casting an ethereal glow across your skin. Your arms are in the air while your body sways hazily with the music, eyes closed as the feeling consumes you. And the way people are staring at you doesn’t even bother Kirishima. He trusts you. Knows you’d never even entertain the idea of giving your affection to someone else.

It isn’t until he sees some asshole at the bar shoot back his whiskey with his eyes on you that he feels the first spark of anxiousness enter his bloodstream. The second strike has his adrenaline pumping, buzz long gone as he watches the man stride to your figure. And sure, you have your friends but a couple of them have gone to the bathroom leaving you with one other friend who’s just as drunk as you, neither of you paying attention to your surroundings. Certainly not observant of the perv circling you like a lion would to its prey. And it has Kirishima’s fingers curling around his amber filled glass.

“You good, man?” Denki asks, a nervous chuckle following his question as he watches his friend release the iron grip he had on his drink.

“Watch my stuff.”

His tone gives it away. He’s never short with his friends like that, especially not when he had been laughing and smiling only moments ago. But Denki’s gaze follows his friend’s figure through the crowd, and he swallows hard as he spots his destination.

The other man has already reached you, smirking at the way your hips are circling in front of him. Not for him. Not for anyone but yourself and your own happiness, but it’s obvious he’s too ignorant to understand the difference.

And just as he reaches his hand out to graze across your skin, Kirishima’s there. His large, calloused palm is on the man’s wrist before he even gets within an inch of your body, and you haven’t even registered the intrusion.

“What’s your deal, man?” The guy asks as if Kirishima has interrupted his date.

The red haired man just tilts his head to the side, a dangerous smile spreading across his features. Sharp, pointed teeth glow under the light of the dance floor, and his hand never leaves its place holding the man back.

“Go back to the bar.”

Kirishima leaves no room for discussion. It’s not a request. His harsh, crude tone demands to be followed. And when the man attempts to disobey, Kirishima tightens his hold on his wrist.

“I won’t tell you again,” he spits, stepping closer until he towers over the other. “Go. Back. To the. Bar.”

And when he releases his hold, the man turns with his head tucked low, hand rubbing at his bruised wrist. All while Kirishima grabs your hips and pulls you against him so you’re dancing together. Because he might be sweet. He might be understanding and kind and a perfect gentleman. But he doesn’t tolerate unwanted advances. And he’ll remind every person in the club if he has to.

#bnha #blurbs #drabbles #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #reader insert #minors do not interact #protective kirishima #bnha drabbles #mha #mha reader insert

222 notes · View notes

sukislady · 1 year

Note

Can I request how the MHA boys would react if you like demanded there hoodie cause you were tired and wanted to cuddle but they were busy? Idk if that makes sense ❤️❤️❤️ I just think you capture their personalities really well

• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ “your hoodie, plz” ♡ ˎˊ ˗

𐚁̸ featuring ．i. midoriya, k. bakugo, s. todoroki, d. kaminari, e. kirishima, h. sero

𐚁̸ scenario ．while waiting for your boyfriend to get done with whatever he’s doing, you start to feel sleepy. you tell them to come cuddle but they can’t and tell you no. a word you despise. so you do what you do best. demand compensation. their new hoodie.

𐚁̸ warnings ．fluff, f!reader, cursing, brattiness, the boys are so tired of their partner

181 notes · View notes

gaybananabread · 8 months

Note

Hi Kasey! I'm honestly happy everytime I read your fics, it was all beautifully written & looks so effortful!! If you have time, please consider writing a fic with lee reader, with lers todoroki and bakugou hehe (I'm thinking the reader is a new/transfer student to UA, and initially scared of bakugou and todoroki because of their "intimidating presence" during the UA Sports Festival). Deku wanted to show that both of his frends (Baku and Todo) are actually approachable, so Deku introduced the reader to them, and somehow say something that makes them tickle the reader lol (probably deku's saying the reader is ticklish or telling todo & baku in advance that the new student "reader" is intimidated by them so they show their playful sides when introduced to the reader) The readed can be male/gender neutral, but please no foot tickles, thank youu!!! Have a wonderful day Kasey!

AJASHSJ THANK YOUUUU!! That is so sweet, I'm happy you like my writing! 💚 Hopefully they arent too OOC, I really need to watch the new season (TwT) Little disclaimer, the bitch went and deleted itself when my platform updated, so I pumped most of it out at midnight. I'm sorry this is so late, I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Gender Neutral Reader

Lers: Todoroki and Bakugou

Summary: A new transfer student at UA, you're a bit scared of Bakugou and Todoroki's whole demeanors. Midoriya gives them some tips on how to seem less threatening.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

You had been at UA for almost two weeks, most of class 1A warmed up to you pretty quickly. You had finally figured out your class schedule, gotten used to Aizawa's power naps, and made a few friends. The only thing you hadn't gotten used to was how... intimidating some of your classmates were.

Todoroki and Bakugou weren't bad, they just didn't have a very friendly air to them. Bakugou screams and cusses, you were afraid to look at him wrong. And Todoroki... his stoic silence was enough to ward you away. He always seemed like he wasn't in the mood to talk.

One student you managed to befriend was Izuku Midoriya. The greenette did his best to make sure you were comfortable, introducing you to other students and rambling about their interests and skills. It was a bit hard to follow, but he helped you. He also couldn't help but notice your aversion to his two classmates.

He decided to do something about it.

"Come on Kacchan, you know I didn't mean it like that!"

Midoriya had tried talking to the pair about their demeanors, and it went about as well as you can image. Bakugou was not pleased.

"I do NOT need to change for the newbie!" His signature scowl was on his face, his palms crackling as he yelled. He was a touch offended that Midoriya had asked him to dial it back a bit. He's not that scary... right?

"Kacchan... Please? I just want them to feel comfortable around you two." Todoroki hadn't said a word, though his brows were slightly furrowed. He didn't think he came off that intimidating. Sure, he didn't talk much, but you weren't afraid of him... right?

"Look, I'm not saying you two need to change. Just... show your human sides. Be playful, show them you can have fun." He wracked his brain, trying to think of what his classmates could do to show their new friend their playful sides.

An idea popped into his head, making his face light up. Each of his friends had wrecked him within the past month. It's mostly harmless, and a great way to establish a playful relationship with the new student. "I got it! How about you two tickle them!"

Both students blinked, registering his suggestion. Bakugou was the first to react. "Uh, the fuck? How is that gonna help, Deku?!" Todoroki nodded, seeming to agree with the firey blonde.

"Okay, you two need to seem less intimidating, more approachable. You need to be playful! What's more playful than tickling?" Todo bit his lip, considering this. It had admittedly been kinda fun to tickle Midoriya, but with them? He didn't know if it was the best way to go about it.

"I don't know. What if it makes things worse?" Deku sighed, choosing his words carefully. Bakugou was still mumbling, surprisingly giving him a moment to talk.

"I'm not saying it's guaranteed, but it may help. And you didn't hear it from me, but... they kinda like it." That simple sentence took almost all hesitation out of Todoroki. He was still a bit iffy, but if they like it, it's worth a shot.

"Okay, I'll play. They like it, it's an idea. But you seriously think they're just gonna let us waltz up and tickle them? I'd beat the shit outta someone if they did that." The blonde's tone was shockingly neutral, the usual heat replaced with curiosity and skepticism. He wanted to meet you, to take away most of that unnecessary fear. You seemed decent.

"Well, no. Be sneaky about it. You guys are creative, just use a little teamwork. I believe in you!" These ideas could work. You needed to get used to the duo, and they needed to work on their people skills. It's a win-win, if they go for it.

Todoroki huffed before nodding. "I'll try it." His answer was short, yet it was all Midoriya needed. The dual-quirked student was willing to try and get to know you. If that meant being a little silly, so be it.

"Okay! What about you Kacchan?"

The blonde rolled his eyes, a small smile forming on his face. "Fine. Let's try it."

You were sitting on the main room couch, trying to relax. Training that day had been a bit rigourus, leaving you kinda tired. Needless to say, you were more than a little surprised when you saw both Bakugou and Todoroki enter the common room.

You were downright shocked when they both waved at you, coming to join you on the couch. Todoroki leaned on the back of the couch while Bakugou sat down beside you. Tension quickly found it's way into your frame, their combined prescence wracking your nerves.

"Uh... hey guys. You need something?" They look between eachother, as if having a silent debate. Apparently, Bakugou lost, grumbling something before he speaks to you.

"Jus' wanted to say hi. You seem decent, not like the other extras. Great smile, too." Okay, that's a bit out of left field. Hot-tempered Bakugou, complimenting your smile? He seems... almost playful. It's a complete 180 from the Katsuki you're used to.

Todoroki, who's been characteristically quiet, said something that surprised you. "He's right. Your laugh is quite nice." You let your guard down, just enough to loosen the muscles in your shouders and arms. This... wasn't what you were expecting at all.

Seeing you relax, they moved onto Phase 2 of their poorly-discussed plan. Bakugou moved his hand to your side, stopping just shy of your skin. You couIdn't help but freeze up, seeing his fingers twitch ever-so sligty, just inches away from making contact. Clearing your troat, you looked back up at Todoroki.

Both students wore the same mischevious expression. The smile compliments, wiggling fingers, smirks... Oh shi-

Before you could react, 10 wiggling fingers descended on your sides. Baku's tickles were rough and fast, quickly sending you into a giggle fit. "Bakugohohohou! Whahat are you dohohoing?!"

The explosive teen smirked, continuing the onslaught on your poor sides. "Tickling you, dumbass. What else would I be doing?" You batted weakly at his hands, not putting up much of a fight. You didn't really mind. At least not nearly as much as you were pretending to.

Feeling a bit left out, Todoroki grabbed your arms, holding them above your head. Using his free hand, he gently prodded at your armpit. The difference between Todo's light, teasing tickles and Baku's fast, rough torment had your head reeling, little squeaks dotting your laughter.

You could fuel Bakugou's hands exploring, slowly making their way across your stomach. Todoroki contined to tease your armpit, occasionally moving down to knead your ribs. The moment the blonde's fingers reached your belly button, you squealed and twisted in Todo's grip.

Baku took the opportunity to tease you, wanting to establish a playful mood. "Found your giggle button, eh? The squeaking is cute, keep it up."

If you had the choice, you would *not* have kept it up. Being called "cute" by Bakugou wasn't something you felt like reliving. But, with a teasing explosion boy on your belly, you couldn't help but continue.

Todoroki kept his pace steady as he teased your armpit. He didn't want to go too far. The gentle tickling was somehow worse, building up you anticipation and setting your nerves on fire.

You wriggled and squirmed, making a show out of trying to escape. They saw right though your act. It was adorable, they thought.

"You really do have a nice laugh. It's good that you like this, we're having fun as well." It was shocking to hear Todoroki say this. The typically stoic, resigned teen's comment sends heat to your cheeks. They chuckle at your blush, deciding not to comment on it.

"N-noho I'm nohot! Shuhuhut uhup!" The teasing made it all twice as bad, their sweet words ramping up your sensitivity. On top of that, Todoroki started to actually tickle you, digging his fingers into your armpit and ribs. It's not unpleasant, but just enough to bring loud belly laughter from you.

The intensity increase wasn't awful, but you were reaching your limit. A bright red hue had taken over your face, slowly spreading down your neck. Your squirming had doubled and contained actual effort at this point. It was getting to be a lot.

The pair picked up on this rather quickly. Todoroki was the first to stop, nudging Bakugou to do the same. After a few quick scratches on your belly button, he stilled his hands and backed off. The half-and-half student started to rub small circles into your back, letting go of your arms.

You were still giggling softly, phantom tickles buzzing on your belly and ribs. Todo smiled as you caught your breath, rubbing the calming circles while Bakugou grabbed some water. They had both learned from Midoriya that aftercare is important.

One glass of a water later, you had managed to stop giggling, your cheeks' glow fading to a light pink. Bakugou sat on the couch beside you, a small smirk on his face. You felt like you should say something, though your mind came up blank at the thought. They seemed to understand this, sitting on either side of you as the TV is turned on. Words aren't needed, those two have got this covered.

As for your thoughts on them...

You definitely weren't as intimidated by them after all that. At least, not for the same reasons. The difference then: they were seriously good at tickling you. They know you enjoy it, but don't judge you or take it too far...

Maybe they aren't so bad after all.

#mha tickle #lee!reader #ler!bakugou #ler!todoroki #ticklish!reader #mha reader insert #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle #my hero academia tickle #gender nuetral reader #mha bakugou #mha todoroki #mha midoriya #yn mha #request #lee!gender neutral reader #mha tickling

72 notes · View notes

confused-red-head · 10 months

Text

These Curses We Bear

Masterlist

Pro-Hero!Shouto Todoroki x Psychic Medium Detective!Reader

WARNING:

This fic inculdes some dark themes, death, descriptions of dead bodies(no excessive gore), paranormal activities, blood, violence, cursing, angst, angst WITH COMFORT(moreso in later chapters), mentions of trauma, mentions of illness, fem!reader, READER TALKS TO GHOSTS, ghost child in chapter 1, children in general, Reader being a dork, home break-in, slowish burn, minor self harm(skin picking), pro hero au, aged up characters, stranger to friends to lovers,etc.

More will be added as chapters are posted and posted to each chapter.

Chapter 1 - If These Walls Could Talk

Chapter 2 - Butterflies

Chapter 3 - Here Comes The Sun

Chapter 4 -

Chapter 5 -

To be Continued...

TCWB Playlist

Author's Note: I am open to hearing peoples' ideas about this fic and am open to suggestions. I may also change the banner for this fic so be aware that the banner may not remain the same.

Taglist: @andypantsx3

127 notes · View notes

niishii · 2 years

Text

Our Little Secret (MHA Drabbles)

warnings; none, just fluff.

Divider: @firefly-graphics header: images from pinterest

prompt; you're a teacher at ua who is also in a secret relationship with aizawa, hizashi, and toshi

✦ Aizawa Shota; Today was one of those days in which the quiet man with sad eyes and binding cloths covering half of his face sat on the couch alone—eyes glued to the news broadcasting channel—while you stood on the opposite side of the room nursing a cup of bitter-tasting black coffee. When the bitterness got too much for you, you tossed the paper cup in the trash and walked over to sit on the couch. He sat with his arms sprawled across the back of the couch as you sank into the cushions and resisted the magnetic force pulling you towards him. That magnetic force eventually manifested itself into a binding cloth, gentle wrapping around your shoulders and tugging towards the empty space against him. After a second or two of resisting, you gave in and settled against him, your head resting against his chest and your legs tucked underneath you as you snuggled against his side. Although risky, you both were comfortable as you both watched a couple of pro heroes being interviewed after saving a family from a gruesome fire. "How's your day going?" You managed to ask as his arm now rested along your shoulders, pulling you closer. "It's going better now, And you?" he mumbled, resting his head on yours now. You couldn't help but smile, your body relaxing as you two enjoyed each other's company for only a few minutes longer. "Same here. Much better," you replied. The two of you remained like that until the bell rang, signaling that lunch was over. Unfortunately, you both were reluctant to leave each other's grasp.

✦ Hizashi Yamada; Sneaking around with him was nothing less than a thrill and a difficult task. At this rate you wouldn't surprised if the other UA instructors knew of your relationship given the many close calls you both had getting caught. Almost everyday when the students were dismissed for lunch, you found yourself migrating to his classroom. He'd be sitting at his desk, pretending to not be eagerly awaiting your arrival. When you saw you, he could never keep his voice down nor hide his excitement. As if he hadn't seen you in years, he'd spring from his desk and rush to you, his arms engulfing you into a hug before you could remind him for the umpteenth time that your relationship was to remain a secret. However, this warning does little to stop him from quickly pecking your cheek just before anyone in the hallway can catch you both in close proximity. During days when you can't find him in his classroom when the bell rings, he'll have one of his students deliver a note to you saying to meet him a secure location on campus during lunchtime. It felt like highschool all over again with the two of you sneaking around on school grounds to talk about your day and the progress you both were making with your students. Everytime you both parted, he'd quickly pull you close and kiss your forehead before whispering, "I'll see you later, babe." When the bell rings signaling lunch is over, you head back to your classroom, unable to wipe the chipper smile from your face.

✦ Toshinori Yagi; Resisting the urge to hold hands with Toshi as you both head for the teacher's lounge is more than you both can bear. Sometimes, if the coast is clear and no one else is around, he'll take you by the hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Unfortunately, you both don't want to deal with questions from your coworkers, students, or the media so you both quickly release each other's hands if someone's walking down the hall. You both find solace in the teacher's lounge, where you sit side by side and eat lunch together all while talking about your day. Occasionally he reach for your hand and squeeze it under the table in case someone comes walking in. Lunch goes by fast when you're with him. There never seems to be enough time to recap each other's day, because you both are two busy stealing glances towards the door everytime someone passes. When the bell rings, signaling your departure, he'll take by the hand and press a quick kiss to the back of it. "Enjoy the rest of your day, beautiful," He'd say just before the both of you go your separate ways for the time being.

#bhna x reader #mha reader insert #aizawa shota x reader #mha toshinori #toshinori x reader #hizashi x reader #present mic x reader #eraserhead x reader #all might x reader #mha drabble #mha fluff #hizashi yamada #hizashi yamada x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #my hero academia x you #aizawa x you #my hero academia x reader insert #niishii

485 notes · View notes

namjoon-koya · 1 year

Note

Thank you for taking my request? It was beautifully written.

I was wondering if I can another Headcannon of Aizawa, FatGum and Hawks seeing their s/o coming back a long mission and were about to greet them but Eri runs over to them first, their s/o kneels down arms open and gives Eri great big hug?

Just something sweet and adorable.

Thank you and take your time writing it.

a/n: sorry I’m late on this again😭 but I hope you enjoy it! This was a really cute request! Also I only wrote for Aizawa and Hawks just because I was struggling a little bit to figure out what to write for Fatgum, but I hope you enjoy it!

Aizawa:

People usually never saw Aizawa smile or at least act happy, he was always sleeping in his sleeping bag or just had a plain look on his face, but not this time. You were gone for a few weeks for a mission and it required you to be away from home, Aizawa wasn’t happy to hear you say you were leaving; but he understood that it was part of being a hero. Even while a few of his coworkers didn’t notice the glee in his eyes it was Toshinori and Hizashi who did notice.

“Are you excited that they’re finally coming back?” Eri asked as she continued to draw onto a piece of paper, he wanted to say hell yeah; but instead settled on saying yes to her question. He knows you wouldn’t appreciate hearing Eri say hell yes, if you asked her if she wanted pancakes for breakfast. “Done! Do you think they’ll like it?” Eri asked showing Aizawa the drawing she was working on, it could make out a family on the drawing.

It was Eri, you and him together holding hands, in the background it read “WELCOME BACK!” He knew anything Eri gave you, you would love it. “They definitely will” he said gently smiling at Eri. He heard the door click open and that’s when he saw you walk through the door, he wanted to run over to you and hold you in his arms. Even while it was just a few weeks of you being away, it almost felt like you were gone for a year.

Aizawa was getting ready to walk over to you, but that’s when he saw small flash run right past him. Eri beat him to you first, she was quick to open her arms wide open and you were quick to catch her in yours. You picked her up and gently spun her around “Eri! I missed you so much!” You said happily, “I missed you too! I’m happy you’re back home”

You looked over at Aizawa and saw a warm pleasant smile on his face, you knew he was taking in the scene in front of him. “Aren’t you going to say you missed me?” You asked him, Aizawa gave you a teasing look “course I didn’t miss you, it was quiet without you.” “Liar! You told me you didn’t like the house being quiet since they weren’t home” Eri that little traitor, but she was right. It was too quiet without you and he disliked it, he walks over to you and gently plants a soft kiss on your lips.

“Welcome back”

Hawks:

Hawks was excited to see you again, both of you did hero work. Yet most of the time it was you who had to leave on a mission trip, mostly because the hero commission told him he has to stay behind while you had to go. He didn’t like it, but he knew you wouldn’t argue against it. Aizawa, All Might and Eri were waiting for your arrival at the airport, while hawks never really formed a bond with Eri. You did you were there when they rescued Eri from overhaul and were there when she was recovering in the hospital, Hawks saw how gentle you were towards her which made his heart explode.

He felt a nudge against his shoulder, it was All Might getting his attention “here they come” he said winking at Hawks, shit if only he could fly towards you already and hold you in his arms. He missed you a lot, more than you could even imagine. At nights without you next to him he felt restless it was too cold without you next to him, when hawks saw you he felt his feathers fluff up at the sight of you. (His feathers did the same thing when he first noticed you during a meeting and of course it’s noticeable and he was EMBARRASSED because endeavor asked him about it)

When you got a bit closer Hawks was getting ready to run up to you until he saw someone else had beat him to you first, it was Eri she had his arms wide open and you were quick to drop your things and give her a hug back. Hawks was a bit jealous just because he wanted to give you a hug first, but seeing how happy you made Eri made him happy as well. You told him the things she went through when you and the others saved her, it was obvious you being there made her feel safe. “sorry I couldn’t hold her back, Eri was really just excited to see them again” Aizawa said as he walked over to Hawks, “don’t apologize it’s fine”

Once the both of you locked eyes onto each other that’s when he walked over to you, “hey there dove, it’s nice to see you again” he said planting a kiss on your forehead “what no kiss on the lips?” “Hey there’s a kid right in front of us” you rolled your eyes at him, “I really did miss you” he said again “so did I”

951 notes · View notes

blurbios · 11 months

Text

Starstruck [rockstar! reader x tomura shigaraki]

cw: obsession(?), cursing

other: fem! reader, modern (quirkless) au, format is a bit funky bc i didn’t intend it to reach this length

wc: 3k

synopsis: tomura didn’t plan on falling for the frontwoman of some band he’s never heard of before, but once he saw you something changed.

✦ Tomura’s favorite band was in town and he wanted to have a good view of the stage, so he made sure to queue up early. Like most people, he was solely going for the headliners, without any real knowledge of the openers.

✦ When doors finally opened, he managed to snag a spot close to center barricade. He was already annoyed at how close everyone was to him and he knew it would only get worse as the night went on.

✦ The first openers went on and they didn’t catch his eye nor did they distract him from the bodies pressed against him. Their music felt too generic for his taste and the band members were dressed like every other person in the venue. Once they finished their set, he pulled out his phone to check how many songs the next band would be doing. He read that they would do anywhere from 5-8 songs depending on the night and he impatiently drummed his hands on the barricade and let out a sigh.

✦ The crowd cheered as each member walked onto stage and he clapped along half-heartedly. That was until his eyes fell on you as you strutted out on stage towards the mic with your guitar in hand. He felt his chest swell with excitement as you introduced your band to the crowd. He took note of your name and watched eagerly as you began to play.

✦ A couple songs in and everyone and everything else in the room disappeared in his eyes. All the bodies pressed against him faded, the murmurs of the strangers beside him were drowned out. Hell, even the other members on stage weren’t there to him. He was simply hooked on you, he found your presence alone intoxicating.

✦ Tomura was so focused on you that he hadn’t noticed how he excitedly clapped his hands at the end of each song or how loud he yelled when you hit your high notes. You took note of him and made sure to flash him a smile. He felt his own smile on his face as he cheered you on. You sang some lines as you looked at him and again he felt something in him, a tinge in his chest.

✦He had been to tons of shows in the past, but never had he gained so much interest so quickly. Maybe it was the way you carried yourself with such confidence or the way your eyes closed when you sang, clearly giving it all you had, or maybe it was the way the stage lighting hit you perfectly. Tomura couldn’t quite place it, but he wasn’t complaining. He was happy to have his eyes glued to such a beautiful girl like you, especially when you interacted with him so much. You made him feel special, and in his eyes, he was. It didn’t take that long before he was convincing himself that you thought the same things about him.

✦ Before he knew it, you were announcing your last song and he frowned. You saw this happen in real-time and even gave him your own little pout and mouthed a little “I’m sorry.”

✦ You were used to crowds writing you off as an opener and not really caring. You were also used to people who knew all the words by heart. The silver haired boy stood front row lay in a weird grey area. You could tell he didn’t know the words, yet you could hear him above all else. You wanted to win him over and unbeknownst to you, you already had.

✦ You were sweaty and tired as you told the crowd that you’d be at the merch table after the show. You made sure to make eye contact to hopefully coax him to come by after, you saw his eyes light up as you did so. You and your band mates thanked the crowd. You pulled up the setlist that had been taped by your mic stand and saw a wall of hands fly up when you held it above your head. You watched as your bandmates tossed their setlists and picks into the crowd, but you already knew who you were giving yours to.

✦ You walked to the edge of the stage and stretched your arm as far as you could to give it to your biggest supporter of the night. You thanked him with your hands over your heart and a little bow. You saw him smile and nod at you as he held the setlist in his hands. You walked off stage waving at the other attendees with your smile shining bright, head held high.

✦ He held it in his hands astonished that you handed it to him. Most times artists just crumple it and throw it to someone, but you made the effort to come over to him. The way you smiled at him made his head spin, he looked at the paper in his hands and saw that it had kiss marks on it. The shade matched the lipstick you had been wearing and he assured himself that it was a sign.

✦ The energy in the crowd grew as the minutes until the headliners came on stage edged closer to zero. Tomura’s energy grew as the minutes until he would get to see you dwindled down. He heard the first chords of their opening song start and immediately perked up. He had waited all day for this and he couldn’t believe it was happening. But, whenever there was a pause in between songs he found that he couldn’t keep focus on the band on stage. He loved their music, but he felt something different when it came to you. He zoned in and out when the music would play through the speakers, bass booming through his body. He jumped around and sang, he was having the time of his life.

✦ When the band announced they were on their last song, Tomura froze. He felt a jolt of electricity through his body, he was nervous because the set ending meant he would meet you soon after, he wasn’t ready. He shook himself out of his head and lost himself in the music once more.

✦ The drummer had thrown and drumstick into the crowd and Tomura ended up catching. When he turned to make his way out of the pit, his eyes fell on a young kid. He overheard the kid’s brother say something along the lines of “next time you’ll get it, buddy.” So without any hesitation he tapped the kid on the shoulder and extended the stick to him. The kid turned and squealed excitedly. “What are you supposed to say?” The brother chirped. “Th-thank you!” Tomura smiled at the two boys and went about making his way to you.

✦ Most people would’ve kept it for themselves, but Tomura had a soft spot for kids at gigs. Reminded him of when he was young and all he wanted to do was go to shows. Plus, he already had the setlist from you and as far as he was concerned that was better than a drumstick from a drummer he didn’t even know the name of.

✦ He saw the line at the merch table and his heart sank, no way you’d stay that long. He wasn’t going to give up though, but he figured he had enough time to fix himself up a bit. He wormed his way through the crowd and slipped into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head in disbelief. He combed his hands through his shaggy hair and tried to make himself presentable. He took off his hoodie and wiped the sweat from his body best he could. He took a deep breath before returning to the line, which was even longer now.

✦ You looked at the line in between meeting people and signing things. You were amazed the line was this long, usually you were lucky if there was a handful or two waiting for you guys. Your members were visibly tired and they could tell most people only wanted to meet you anyways. You heard them mutter something amongst themselves as you posed for photos. One of them settled behind the merch table to take over sales, whilst the others walked off to help move the stage equipment to the trailer.

✦ Shortly after, a worker from the venue came over to and said you had to pack up and get out of the venue. You looked at the people in line and frowned. You walked over to the merch table and told your fellow bandmate what the worker said. “What about these people?” You said. They proceeded to stand on the table and shout to the line that you’d be finishing the meet and greet in the parking lot since security was kicking you out.

✦ Tomura heard what they had said and checked his phone for the time, it was already past midnight. His phone wasn’t even halfway in his pocket before a security guard came up to him and ushered him out. He looked at you waving to the line and smiled to himself. When he neared the doors he felt the cold air and quickly pulled his hoodie over his head.

✦ He thought about the weather and how cold it was. He was hit with a wave of guilt, you would be waiting in the cold because of him. He saw the line form near the back of the venue and contemplated just walking to the subway station. He realized how silly it would be to leave after waiting this long and he had himself convinced that you’d be upset if you didn’t get to meet him.

✦ You put on a jacket, but felt it ruined your outfit. You dug through your suitcase and found a flannel, you figured it was better than nothing and its colors matched your fit well. You walked out and saw the line, it was significantly shorter than it had been, but you didn’t blame them for going home. Your eyes trailed down the line and at the end you saw him, the boy that had looked up at you with such adulation during your set. You smiled and waved at him and he waved back sheepishly.

✦ Tomura’s cheeks flushed when you waved at him, he was hoping that he could just play it off as the cold when he spoke to you. His hands felt tingly and his stomach was doing flips. With each step he took, the reality set in more and more. You were right there mere meters away from him. He saw how you smiled with the others and brought them in for hugs. He heard your laugh and nearly fell to his knees. He couldn’t believe how pretty it was. Your voice grew louder as he was the next person, and the last person, in line. He completely froze up as your kind eyes met his, he was starstruck.

✦ You waved goodbye to the girl whose album you’d just signed then turned your attention to him. You smiled in his direction and opened your arms for him. He didn’t move and you pouted. “Come on, I don’t bite.” You tried to lighten the mood and cocked your head.

✦ Slowly he walked into your embrace and wrapped his arms around you. Your warmth felt so comforting that he let the hug linger for a couple seconds before breaking it off. He mustered up all the courage he could to speak. “You were amazing tonight.” You held your head high and smiled before thanking him. “I’m glad you think so…” You trailed off trying to get his name.

✦ “Tomura. Sorry, I should’ve led with that. I’m Tomura.” He looked at the ground when he spoke, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket, nervously twiddling his thumbs. “Well it’s nice to meet you Tomura, I’m y/n. Thank you so much for waiting, I know it’s cold.” You could see redness on his cheeks and felt bad for the poor boy.

✦ “I’m sorry for keeping you out in it.” Tomura was beating himself up mentally. “Don’t worry about it, being with you is enough to warm my heart.” You tried not to cringe at your words, but you figured artists said things like that all the time. This time his face went red and you could tell it wasn’t from the cold this time. You let out a little laugh and he felt the warmth in his chest return.

✦ Your words just affirmed his delusions. He took his hands out of his pockets and reached them out to you. To his pleasant surprise, you took his hands in yours. He was ecstatic that he didn’t have to ask, it’s like you knew what he wanted. “y/n, I’m so glad that we got to meet. Next time you tour, I’ll make sure to come cheer you on.” He spoke whilst holding eye contact this time and saw your doe eyes staring back at him.

✦ His hands were warm as they held yours, you didn’t want to let go of the warmth. You took in his words and were touched. “Thank you, it means the world to me. I feel so lucky that I have someone like you.” You meant a supporter like him, but to Tomura it meant that you were lucky to have him in your life period. His thoughts began to spiral, but he held his tongue hoping you would continue and you did. “I’ve got to get going so we can make it to the next city on time. I look forward to seeing you again. Next time we come through, I’ll make sure to look for you, Tomur.” You gave his hands a slight squeeze before letting go.

✦ Hearing his name fall from your lips felt heavenly. He was so drunk off the feeling that he hadn’t realized you let go of him, his hands still hovered empty in the air. Once he felt the cold, he was brought back into the moment. “Thank you for taking this time to be with me.” He opened his arms for a hug goodbye and you stepped into his arms. His eyes shut and he took in the moment. The way your hair smelled, the warmth of you against his body, your little hums of whatever song was stuck in your head. He was assured he was in heaven.

✦ Again, he was sucked back into reality when the cold returned in your absence. You took a couple steps back and waved. “Get home safe!” You said with a smile. He waved back and nodded before turning about-face and heading towards the street.

✦ You knocked on the van door before opening it. “God, you took so long with that guy. You think he’s cute or something?” One of your members said as you climbed in. You hadn’t really thought about it, you took a second to process it. He had red eyes that you’ve never seen before, his hair was fluffy, bangs were cute, he was visibly nervous, and he had that little mole under his lip. “Maybe.” You wondered if he would actually show up at your next gig in the city. You had heard it so many times before, part of you hoped it would be different this time. You couldn’t tell if it was because you wanted a fan to stay for once or if what you really wanted was to see Tomura again.

✦ He sat on the subway and swiped through the videos and pictures of you he had taken. He was still in awe of you. He admired your lyrics, loved the passion you emitted when you performed, and the sound of your laugh made him feel something he hadn’t felt before. But most of all, he was enamored by the way you looked at him. The way you smiled at him as you sang, the way you scanned the crowd to find him with the setlist in your hands. The little look of excitement when you saw him in line. The way your face seemingly lit up when you spoke his name. Your words played on repeat in his head.

✦ When he got home he couldn’t help, despite how tired he was, but hop on his pc and look you up. He saw that your band’s instagram had already posted crowd photos of the night, he clicked through and stopped when he saw one with him in it. A photographer had caught the moment you handed him the setlist. Immediately he set it as his desktop photo, tracing your image with a finger on his monitor. He pulled out his phone and checked your instagram. A smile grew on his lips as he saw you had posted that picture on your story. He took note that you had drawn a heart over the photo, you drew one on the center of the photo, right where he just so happened to be.

✦ He felt a tinge in his chest, it felt nice to have his feelings validated. He opened up your band’s website and made sure to buy all your merch, he streamed all your music and promoted you however he could. He loved you and as far as he was convinced you loved him too. He opened up a ticketing app to see if he could get a ticket to another stop of the tour to see you. He frowned when he saw that every stop was sold out.

✦ He pulled up the tour poster to see which date was the last one you were doing then headed to a reseller site. He didn’t care about the price, he was seeing you again. Once he confirmed his purchase he created a countdown on his desktop. Tomura leaned back and it hit him how tired he was. He didn’t even bother to shower, partially because of the aforementioned tiredness, but mostly because he wanted your fragrance to stay on him as long as possible. Tomura settled into bed and thought about the two of you together, hoping it would help him dream of you.

a/n: PLEASE LMK WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS BC I CANT TELL IF ITS CORNY OR NOT BC ITS LIKE ONE OF MY CHILDREN okay sorry for yelling,, depending on how this is received i have an idea for a follow up <3 this was supposed to get posted a month ago but uni ate my ass before i could edit lmao but we are back in business baybee !

#boku no hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki x reader #tenko shimura #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha reader insert #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x you #league of villains #league of villians x reader #dabi mha #tomura shigaraki #tomura imagine #tomura headcanons #tomura x reader

286 notes · View notes

acerathia · 4 months

Text

The Apple of my Eye - Behind the Scenes

Summary:

While spending the summer at your grandparent’s place, an accident leads to a fateful encounter with Izuku. Yet you reject this first meeting, seeking to craft a proper first impression. Yes, but what happened behind the scenes of the making of this piece?

Pairing:

Midoriya Izuku / Reader (in the OG)

Wordcount: 2.9k

Read it on AO3 / The Apple of my Eye (OG)

Note:

I just thought it might be fun to write some outtakes and compile the scenes, which didn't make the final cut to the fic, enjoy <3 (also, would be so cool if u checked the OG fic lol)

Outtakes

“Ow, are these apples real?” his voice sounds and you look down at him, a pained expression on his face.

“Oh, no, did I actually hit you?” you clamper down, a giggle evident in your voice.

He supports you as you take a small leap onto the ground. “I thought it was supposed to? I just thought the apples weren’t real…” he answers, his hand rubbing against the tender spot.

You laugh as you carefully pat his hand on that spot. “Izuku, of course it’s going to be a real apple, this is a real tree. Why else would we be doing this outside?”

He simply shrugs with a small pout.

“C’mon, we gotta start over,” you pat his cheek softly, an encouraging smile on your lips, before you look into his eyes and press your lips together to avoid bursting into laughter again.

He puts his tongue out to you, before he begins walking away.

***

“Great take! The choking looked really good, we can move onto the next scene,” you hear the director as you croak one last cough.

“Thanks, but I actually choked,” you mumble, making eye contact with Izuku before bursting into laughter together.

While you both are recovering, still giggling here and there, an assistant hands you some water and asks you if you’re good.

“Yeah, I’m good. At least the realism of this scene cannot be refuted,” you grin as you sip from your water. “Izuku actually noticed and immediately switched up on me.”

“Hey, I was worried for you, but sure, make fun of the poor hero,” he grumbles, but there is a wobble in his voice that betrays his amusement.

Your grin only widens. “I mean, your acting is weak as it is, the realistic situation seemed to help, didn't it?”

He gapes at you, bumping his shoulder into yours. “Now you’re kicking a man already onto the ground.”

You take another sip of water and shove him with a giggle.

***

“Cut!”

You take a deep breath. “Fucking hell, Izuku, you’re going to kill me,” you whine and throw your head back.

“So, you think I should change my hairstyle?

“Shut up!”

***

“Look! It’s beautiful up there, I took pictures!” you wave your phone the moment you step out of the wheel.

“Aren’t you supposed to come out all sad?”

“Oh, fu–”

Deleted Scenes

“Hello! Should we go in?”, he asked and held the door open.

You nodded and went inside, asking him what kind of smoothie he’d like. With his preferred beverage, you went to the cashier to order your drinks, while he found you a place to sit outside. You thought you were going to sit inside, but maybe he noticed you enjoying the weather. You had to giggle at his thoughtfulness.

After the drinks were ready, you grabbed them and went looking for him. He was already sitting under a parasol, waving at you to get your attention. You immediately joined him, putting the drinks on the table before sitting down.

“Here we go. I’m glad you could make it.”, you said with a slight smile, trying not to get distracted by his brilliant and dazzling eyes and smile. It was difficult, especially considering that you didn’t meet since that event, but rather texted. You felt quite shy, almost like he was another person.

“Yeah, me too. To be honest I was quite nervous.”, he answered with a shy giggle, rubbing his neck and you had to control yourself not to squeal.

After some exchanged words you both started talking like you had been acquainted for some time. Even if you technically knew each other, it was different to talk in person. You noticed so many quirks about him, which made you like him more, not that you were ever going to tell him anyway. But you enjoyed his explanations, his analysis of whatever topic he started talking about. You just liked to listen to him being excited about his favorite things and you decided to do some research about the topics, making mental notes. And you couldn’t help but like the way he moved his scarred, calloused hands, almost like they were helping him with his explanations. Sometimes you would also tlak about your interests, and he always listened, never interrupted, even if he had something to say. Exchanging these topics you began to discuss different things at such a depth, you never had the same possibility with anyone else. He seemed to hold so much knowledge and you admired that a lot. He even knew about your major in university, almost as good as you did.

While enjoying this talk, you couldn’t help but feel guilty about the first time you saw him. The accident about the apple. You had the urge to tell him about your involvement, before you both got too deep into this. And with that before you got too deep into this between you. You could escape a crush, but even a tiny step more towards love? You would be heartbroken for the rest of your life.

So you took a deep breath. “Midoriya-kun, I need to tell you something… I’ve met you before that event at the stall… Even if it wasn’t really… meeting, more like… Uh… The day before, didn’t an apple fall onto your head?”, you stuttered, not having planned this at all. You then continued speaking when he slowly nodded, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows. His bottom lip slightly jutting out and you erred for a moment, getting distracted.

You shook your head to get yourself out of your daze. “Yes! Uhm, that was me… Sorry! I didn’t see you and… and just let the apple fall… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”, you apologized, bowing your head. “And… and I didn’t tell you earlier, because I- uh, I wanted you to like me, is that weird?”

A breath escaped you and you stared at the table in front of you. At least he could get mad and it was over, before you completely lost yourself. But he didn’t raise his voice or leave, no, rather he started giggling.

“Hm, I knew it was you. I looked up, you weren’t hidden that well. And, well, I approached you the day after with purpose too, so I guess we’re even?”, he smiled and cocked his head.

Your head snapped up and you looked at him, mouth opening and closing, before deciding on a ‘what?’.

“You were interesting, and I wanted to get to know you”, he shrugged and leaned back, his giggles directed at your shocked face.

You leaned forward and slapped his arm slightly. “That’s so mean! Do you know how much I thought about that?”, you pouted while softly slapping him over and over again.

He just gave you a broad grin and took your hand into his. “Yeah? You already paid for that smoothie. How about I compensate you? Join me for the summer festival.”

His suggestion felt like a punch to the face, to the gut, a punch in general. He was a boxer and you were nothing but that training equipment he regularly beat. And for some reason you didn’t mind, as long as he gave you that brilliant, beautiful smile, you would agree with anything he said. So you nodded, feeling his thumb rubbing against your skin.

And suddenly the warmth was gone and he was clapping his hands together. “Awesome!”

After that he acted like he didn’t just manipulate you into agreeing (who were you kidding, you would have agreed even if he hated you guts). You both deviated into other topics, finishing your drinks. And even if your glasses were finished, you both remained at your seats, increasing the word count with every minute.

You both only noticed the time passing when the shopkeeper had to remind you of their closing time in fifteen minutes. You both immediately apologized, leaving the table and bringing the glasses back to the front desk.

Looking at the time you decided to go home, not wanting to say goodbye but having to. It seemed like he didn’t want the day to be over just yet, as he suggested walking you home. It was getting dark and there were no lamps on the streets, couldn’t have you walking on your own. And you agreed, excited to talk to him some more.

And maybe you took the long way back and maybe he knew, and maybe you both walked as slow as possible, but none of you spoke about it and none of you cared. So you let the evening welcome the night and before you knew it, you were looking at the clear sky with him at your side. He seemed to know a lot about constellations too, so he started showing them to you, sometimes stepping closer to make it more accurate. And you liked his warmth by your side and the brushes of your hands, and your heart was beating inside you, you were afraid he could hear it, if he stepped any closer.

You almost cursed the moment the cottage came into your sight, but you reminded yourself to maybe ask him on any star seeing soon. After your date at the summer festival maybe. You thought he would like that. Maybe. And maybe you were thinking too much and getting too much into it.

You bid him goodbye, wanting to hug him, but realizing that you both weren’t at that stage yet. So you just waved and waited until the night swallowed him to go inside.

***

And despite your attempts of avoiding villains and fights, it seemed like such situations were a normal occurrence, and unavoidable. You cursed your company and their choices. But with every fight you learned more about this hero-culture, and it resembled the celebrity culture in the early 21st century in the US. With polls, merch and websites. You even stumbled across fanfiction, and you had to admit, these were quite enjoyable.

You also discovered who that Deku was. The current number one hero. Which was weird, because every time you encountered him when in crossfire, he seemed to fumble a lot. Were all heroes like this? You had wondered. But no, the other heroes seemed more confident, one even yelled at you. Despite your lack in the language, you could recognize the signs of curses, and you were about to deck him, but you weren’t there on vacation. If you were, he would at least have a bruise somewhere before they could put you in a police car. But alas, you needed to keep the company image intact.

So you minded your own business. Or at least you tried to. This place seemed to hate you, because how else were you supposed to explain your current situation?

You just were craving some kind of chocolate, and decided to leave the house to go to the next convenience store. And you found the exact stuff you needed to settle in front of your laptop with a good movie, and maybe you bought more than just chocolate, but nobody had to know. And you were so excited for your relaxed night, you didn’t notice the people sneaking up behind you, or they used some kind of quirk, you weren’t quite sure. The thing was, you fainted, for some reason, effectively losing your food to the harsh ground. And you only realized your loss after you woke up in a dark space, tied to a chair. You immediately cursed through the tissue inside of your mouth. You spent money on your food, and now the rats were having a feast. Were there any rats in this place? You weren’t sure, but someone else was enjoying your food, and you disliked the thought.

You started thrashing, trying to get whoever did this to you to notice you. And a person with some weird mask approached you, and assuming you did get kidnapped, he probably was a villain. He started talking to you, monologuing like an old school villain. How many movies do these people watch? This was getting ridiculous. After he finished, he pulled the knot out of your mouth, expecting some kind of coherent answer, something like ‘you won’t get away with this’ or ‘a hero will help me’. But you didn’t know what exactly he said in the first place, so you opened your mouth. And started to talk incoherently, just blurting all of your thoughts out, in every possible language you knew. And he didn’t seem to know any of them.

“No! Why… My food… I’m so hungry! Did I leave the stove on? Do I have a stove? I don’t remember… Uhhh, the company is at fault, shoulda gotten myself any kind of insurance, this sucks…”, you just said, and you didn’t stop talking, until he put the tissue back into your mouth, trying to choke your voice out, but you continued talking, or just making random noises, just to mess with him.

You started to think he was regretting this, and you hoped he would just let you go, when he left the room again. You got silent the moment the door closed behind him. There was no reason for you to look around and look for any possible exits, your joints were practically glued to the chair and you doubted you could free yourself without breaking some bones. And that would make you incapable of running. So the ideal case would be a hero arriving, the less ideal case would be you tricking him, in any possible way. And honestly, you wanted to avoid that, because if captured, it could mean a worse experience in this place.

And annoying him might just work well enough. But apparently not good enough, as he came back and began to build something in front of you, some kind of tripod and a camera- oh. He was holding you hostage, but you didn’t even know for what or why. There was no reason for anyone to hold you hostage, unless they were from another pharma company, but they shouldn’t even be aware of the current negotiations. You really hoped it wasn’t due to your carelessness, because the company will blame you and not help you in any case. Which sucked. But you had no other choice but to pull through. Somebody would do anything, at least your country, because you were a citizen.

Still didn’t make the situation better, especially when he turned the camera on and grabbed your head to pull it up, for some reason. You already were looking straight up, but you supposed he wanted some kind of power feeling or whatever.

He was monologuing again, this time into the camera. You just rolled your eyes and leaned back into your chair, staring at the ceiling and zoning out. How many times had you been kidnapped already? Too many times for sure, but usually it was connected to your work and usually the kidnapper was the concurrence, not some kind of villain.

He didn’t like the outcome or your reaction, why else would he punch your face? You bit on your tongue and you wanted to spit onto his shoes, but he still had you gagged. So you just gave him a disappointed stare, and he just went and turned the camera off. Maybe he was beginning to realize that you didn’t understand him, because he didn’t even address you anymore. He just left.

You were alone in a dimmed room. There was nothing for you to do but to make up some scenarios in your head, these fanfictions you read really influenced you. You would love to sleep, but you would rather not get a kink in your neck. That would be really uncomfortable when you would start working later on. Even if it would probably take awhile for someone to actually get you.

Or so you thought. Because it probably only took a couple of hours for someone to sneak through the door. You had to blink a couple of times, because the number one hero was in front of you, and it was ridiculous, it was nothing but a kidnapping, they didn’t have to get someone like him involved. Unless the company demanded that, maybe they did. Well, no matter how it happened, he was releasing you from the ropes. You rubbed your joints to get some circulation back and immediately walked to the door, telling the hero you were ready to go. He probably hadn’t expected anyone to adjust like that, but time wasn’t on your side and you would rather be gone before the villain notices.

Outtakes of deleted scenes

“Yes! Uhm, that was me… Sorry! I didn’t see you and… and just let the apple fall… I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “That’s a lie, you saw me! And you didn’t tell me it was a real apple!” he raises his voice with accusation.

“I cannot believe you would blame me for your own incompetence! Who would go to an apple tree and NOT expect real apples?” you counter immediately.

For a moment you both just glare at each other before bursting into laughter.

“Why did you go off script?” you ask with a sigh, yet the corners of your lips still wobble dangerously.

“I need to tell the truth, everyone needs to know what kind of person you are!”

***

“No! Why… My food… I’m so hungry! Did I leave the stove on? Do I have a stove? I don’t remember–,” you burst out laughing before you could finish your little monologue. “Sorry! Sorry! Why am I talking about stoves in the first place?”

The person in front of you doubles over and you can hear laughter from their direction too.

“I am hungry though, can someone feed me? I’m kind of in a situation right now, you know?”

You grin as more laughter sounds, looking around with expectation in your eyes.

46 notes · View notes

crazyotakugal · 11 months

Text

97 notes · View notes

summerinthecloudsx · 3 months

Text

tw: mentions of past relationship trauma; Shouto x reader blurb

going from a fight or flight relationship to the calm, steady nature of Shouto, who’s determined to end the generational trauma from his family. Cautiously approaching him with your heart pounding, hands crossed over your chest as you tell him something he did that hurt your feelings. And he just…apologizes. He might be confused, might ask for clarification so he can better understand how not to hurt you again. But he’s calm. There’s no echo of his yells or pounding footsteps following you to continue a fight with no solution in sight.

Shouto loves you. And god he can’t comprehend how someone can treat the person they love so horribly, because he looks at you, biting your lip and avoiding eye contact and he just shatters. How could they do that to you? How could anyone scar you so horribly when all they had been tasked with was to love you? He’ll be better. He’ll prove to you every day that love can be something soft and sweet even when it’s as strong as a raging fire.

He just wants to know you, wants to be so well acquainted with your body and soul that he could find you in complete darkness. He’s the definition of, “I could die for them of course. But I would also live for them.” Because it’s scary, learning how to navigate healthy relationships but he never stops trying for you.

#summerthinks #reader insert #bnha x reader #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #mha reader insert

30 notes · View notes

platrom · 2 years

Text

One Last Time.

Midoriya x Reader, Bakugou x Reader (eventually/partially)

WORD COUNT: 6.9k-7k words

NOTE:. A ginormous thank you to my beta reader for dealing with my rambles and pouting over Midoriya. I’m just a hopeless romantic. 😔 I’m sorry I didn’t give you all a happy ending this time, but there is a part two.

And please comment! Reading your guy's comments are huge motivators and I have a blast interacting with you all. 😊

TW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, alcohol abuse, mentions of alcohol poisoning, addiction(s), panic attacks, spiraling, unhealthy habits, poor mindset, depression, unstable mental health, mentions of a mental hospital, mentions of insanity, manipulation, reader & bakugou & midoriya are childhood best friends, frequent mentions of midoriya (though little actual interaction between him and the reader), cursing, miscommunication, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff (somewhat, i tried, i swear), mentions and description of horrible family past and toxic friends, memories (good and bad), reader's solitude from others, ominous voice(s) in reader's head, suicide, manga spoilers, mutual pining, midoriya being blind to emotions, Bakugou being observant, cliffhanger.

Please be cautious while reading this, majority of the content written about is considered heavily triggering to many. Please take a look at all warnings before proceeding (with caution). If you are struggling with any of the topics discussed, please seek professional help. It will get better.

BEWARE ALL READERS: PROCEED WITH CAUTION. DARK CONTENT AHEAD.

One last time, you promised to yourself as you laid flat on your bed, body sinking into the mattress. The exhaustion of your previous activities bled through the remnants of your remaining adrenaline, the pain settling deep within your heart and bones.

This is the last time.

Did it really count as a promise if there was no one else but yourself to keep it and hold yourself accountable? Promises were meant to be held by two different souls— whether it be with another person, an animal (such as pet or that random squirrel you kept on seeing in your backyard), or even a stuffed animal (those beady eyes were always judging people, you knew it). Nevertheless, promises still and always required another party.

"Maybe the mind counts as another soul," you mumbled tiredly. Turning your head, the bright and bloody digital clock read "2:37 AM." There was no point in arguing with yourself now.

Indeed, there was no point in putting up a fight when the depths of your exhaustion crept upon you, its long and thick tendrils grasping your loose limbs and pulling you underwater into an endless milky-way of black.

Yet, a fleeting thought appeared in your mind as your eyes fluttered shut, body and mind fully succumbing to the dark.

If only Midoriya knew.

It was a mantra that rung in your ears ruthlessly throughout the following day. From the moment you awoke and with every hour, those simple yet painstaking words lingered in the corners of your mind, worming its way into every single activity you participated in. Whether it be mundane activities such as walking, eating, reading or anything else, the thought never escaped you.

Poor loving, caring, generous, and selfless Midoriya. He would be disappointed in you if he discovered your nighttime activities; the terror you put yourself through again and again, willingly. You were poisoning your body with your actions and behavior, but you didn't care. You stopped caring ages ago.

Rushing into convenience stores, drinking eagerly until everything blurred and the world become a swirl of bright colors and flashing lights. Then, rushing off into the night and to the cliff you and Midoriya discovered as teenagers all those years ago.

There, each time, you would stand at the edge, staring into the abyss of water below you. The salty liquid gleamed and glistened under the starry sky, leaving you wishing that you shone that bright. The water lapped and splashed against the rocks, dousing them with a salty spray that fueled the growth of the algae. Kelp swirled in the water, swaying in all directions teasingly as it coaxed you to jump below and never resurface.

"'Why come up when you can stay down below forever? With no worries or troubles. With no one to bother or hurt. Why don't you join us down below?'"

It was tempting; you had to admit. The amount of times your resistance nearly broke and you took the temptation would have shattered Midoriya's heart into thousands of pieces, leaving it beyond repair.

You couldn't do that to him.

Not to your Midoriya.

Not to the same toddler who would grab your hand in excitement whenever he saw you at the playground, wordlessly letting go of his mother's hand to sprint over to you. He would pull you up from your spot in the sandbox to press your foreheads together, lively and innocent green eyes gazing mesmerizingly into your (e/c) ones.

Not to the same boy in middle school who was constantly bullied by his peers and never spared a glance by the adults around him. The one who would always smile at you, despite the tears that welled in his eyes whenever he was brutally beaten up by his childhood best friend due to the lack of a quirk in a world fueled by them. The sweetheart who would offer you half his lunch if you forgot yours, or would gush over his hero analysis' books and the latest pro-hero battles.

Not to the high school boy who endangered his life countless times to protect you and your classmates when you both were at UA. The boy who would grab your hand when he felt you slipping from reality and pull you close to his chest, hugging you as if you were his last lifeline- not as if he was yours. The teenager who would tell you all of his deepest and darkest secrets- whether it be of his quirk from All Might, relationship with your mutual peers, or stories of fights against villains.

Not to the vigilante boy whose tears stained the paper of the goodbye letter he wrote to you when he chose to leave UA. The one whose scrawls could not stop describing the excruciating pain he felt to be leaving such an important piece of him behind. The person who impacted him the most, who loved and cared for him for all of those years. The only person that killed him the most to hurt.

You. That was you.

And when he came back, when the students and teachers of UA were able to bring him back, his first request was to see you. And when he couldn't? He was pissed, to say the least. The cold and snappy responses he gave afterwards presented that idea straight enough.

Midoriya never knew what happened to you during the period he left UA for. None of his classmates knew and all of the adults at UA refused to inform Midoriya of your disappearance.

Eventually, you came back.

He and the others didn't need to know about the disturbing thoughts that plagued your mind every passing second. The ones that clouded your senses with every breath you took. It would have been too gruesome to let them in. To show them the scratched and fissured layers beneath your skin.

They couldn't know about the days you spent secluded in a room, hugging yourself as tears streamed from your eyes, down your cheeks and onto the hospital gown you wore. They couldn't know about the way you shrieked in agony and covered your ears with your hands as those mocking voices became too loud and powerful for you to fight.

Simply, it would be too much for them. They wouldn't be able to comprehend or fathom why you had these voices- you didn't yourself. You didn't understand why they chose you out of all the possible victims in the spectrum of people. They would never listen to your distressed howls of desperation as you cried out for them to just "shut up for once!"

Maybe, that was why you stood where you were today. Why you were upright facing the sky, instead of downwards in the soil.

Possibly, that was why you chose to drink until you were blackout drunk- sick, tired, and ready to finally slip from the world's grasps.

You could never be vulnerable. Not again. Not once more. Not after all those times the people who you thought loved and cared for you ended up shredding your heart to pieces. They had seized you in their claws when you were at your weakest, and squeezed until you split at the seams and bursted into millions of fragments. Every single person. Your family, your friends, your peers. Everyone and everything.

As a result, you had become numb. You had became so numb that when the pain struck, it would burn and sizzle before you froze your emotions, before you drowned yourself with liquor and nearly met the angels above. Maybe, those angels wouldn't hurt you like everyone else did. You doubted it. Heaven wouldn't accept you anyway.

"You don't deserve a happy ending."

You had gone off the rails, nobody could help you now. Not Midoriya, not your family, not your friends, not your colleagues, not your neighbors, no one. Not even a therapist.

"You're better off dead than alive. You'll be doing everyone a favor instead."

He would never know.

Unless he caught me.

You shivered at the mere thought, cowering into yourself. It would never, ever happen.

You wouldn't allow it.

Even if it was the last thing you did.

It was a Monday and you were five hours into your shift at the agency, head buried deep in blueprints on hero costumes. These specific costume upgrades had taken months to plan, requiring you to go and scout and research different materials, test them, and undergo many processes of elimination. Red Riot and Dynamight had come to you for assistance (despite having their own support team), and Deku as well. It was as clear as day that they only trusted you with this task, but the demand of time it entailed was overwhelming and had put a block in all of your other projects.

Luckily, merely the final touches were being added and then you could begin building. The materials you had narrowed down to were purchased in bulk and begging to be melted, reformed, and melded to your liking.

You could just hear their cries.

Their pleads for change.

"Just like yours."

No, you shook your head in agitation, clenching your jaw. The once steady pace of your heartbeat picked up furiously, leaving you to inhale uneven, shallow breaths that set your lungs ablaze.

Not right now, you pleaded, grinding your teeth. Tears sprung from your eyes and you screwed them shut, a sense of hopelessness washing over you. You curled into yourself.

Calm down, you told yourself. Don't listen to them, (Name). You're fine. You're okay. It's just work. Just work. Just keep working.

It was easier said than done. Every muscle in your body felt excruciatingly tight, as if you had run a marathon and immediately sat down for hours afterwards. Everything was frozen, and if you tried to move far, you would break further. The strings that held together your mind, soul, and body were stretched thin and ripping at the middle. Once they tore, you would be long gone. The structure that you called your body would become a jail cell, locking you in the depths of your mind for eternity.

With every shaky breath you took, you sunk deeper into your lost state of mind. The voices began to yell obnoxiously inside your head, blocking every coherent thought that attempted to pry its way through the impervious seal of destruction that had enveloped you. Your ears rang as loud as the church bells in the town square— it felt as if blood was pouring out of your earlobes and down your skin, until it reached the ground.

There was screaming somewhere- near or far, you didn't know. Your body shook violently as you fell from your chair and onto the ground. Tools clattered around you and papers flew everywhere, your precious blueprints were lost in the sea of a mess you contrived.

Every breath you took was shallow and fast, each irregular and suffocating. Your lungs burned and a timorous feeling stirred in your stomach, sending you haywire.

Nothing was going to be okay. You couldn't do this. You weren't meant to survive. You weren't built for this.

I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, you repeated in your head.

"Yes," the voice agreed. "You can't, you can't, you can't. Just give up, (Name). It's time to give up."

You didn't want to give up.

"Are you sure?"

You didn't want to die today.

"Why not?"

You couldn't leave all that you worked for behind. Everything you fought for.

"You're just going to lose it eventually. Why does it matter?"

You couldn't leave behind your family and friends.

"They don't care about you. Why do you think they haven't spoken to you in ages? They're all fake, just like you."

You needed something to fight for. Something to keep you grounded.

"No!" cried the voice.

There was no way to win against the hindering voice. You knew that. Time and time again, every pitiful attempt at effacing it would be proved futile. No matter how vigorously you fought, how bodacious your efforts were, your audacious acts were rendered a perilous failure that you would pay for dearly later on.

Although you couldn't win wars, you could win battles.

You cracked your eyes open, pupils peering through a blur of gray as you lifted your head to the light. Pain shot through your bones, and you began to tug at the strings of your sanity in an attempt to regain yourself.

This is progress. I can do this.

The hands on your ears fell to the floor, laying on the cool marble tile below you. The contrast of the subzero-temperature like ground against your blazing and blistering hot skin left you balling your fists in stagger. This had to be how Todoroki's hands felt whenever they touched. The feeling was akin to having ice situated on a burn.

It felt like you were coming back to life.

The ringing in your ears was nearly gone.

Slowly but surely, your breath evened out. The air that entered your lungs were not disarrayed breaths of air, but now timed and even.

In the distance, down the hall, a rush of footsteps could be heard. Frequently, heroes would enter and exit the floor, since all the technicians at the agency were congregated in the same location. Pro-heroes saved lives and as a result, damaged their gear— it was logical that there was constant activity in this section of the building.

However, you were in no state to be interacting with others.

The evidence of your misery was strewn across the floor, with your tools laying around haphazardly and your papers splayed everywhere. If anyone entered, they would conclude that something had happened to you.

And you would not let them even reach that idea.

Swiftly, you rose from your seated position and began to clean the mess on the ground. In one swipe, at least three tools were clutched and dropped into their respective areas. Papers were either crumbled and tossed into the bin beside your desk or stacked neatly. The office would have to look pristine and immaculate.

Just like a criminal, you had to cover your own traces. You had to stay vigilant and weary. Or else, you would be caught.

"Just like you will be."

"WHAT WOULD the world be like, if everyone was good?" Midoriya sighed, tipping his head back as the sweltering afternoon rays of heat beat down upon you both. His fluffy curls were soaked with sweat, reminding you of a puppy's dripping, wet fur after a bath.

He looked awfully adorable, despite the fact that both of you had been running for the past few hours. Midoriya was training for his second Sports Festival and this time, he wholeheartedly believed (and hoped) he would reach the top three. His first year at UA was one that taught him there was more than just his quirk— he had always known he had to train his body to accommodate for the raw and brute power that came along with such a quirk, but he didn't quite understand it. He just did as he was told. He followed All Might's words, all of his mentor's words, but never took the time to consider what they were saying.

It wasn't until after countless villain attacks, constant injuries, and the grueling hell that rained upon him after discovering his true quirks did he comprehend what he was being told.

You were proud of him, then. Your Midoriya, the same boy you grew up with was slowly becoming a real pro-hero (you would have said hero, but you knew he was born one. However, society would have never accepted him as a "pro-hero" if he did not have All Might's quirk). His younger self would have shed tears of joy at the sight of himself then.

He would never be that same Deku, the one who would cower in fear at the wrath of "Kacchan."

A giggle ripped through your lips as you fell onto the bed of grass below you, dirt sinking through your fingertips. The grass grazed your skin like a gentle kiss, sending small tingles down to your toes. "Izuku, you do realize everyone's definition of good is different universally, right?" You heard a small peep of confusion beside you.

Ignoring him, you continued. “Some of us think the definition of 'doing good' is treating others like human beings, which is really the bare minimum in all cases. In comparison, others argue that it means not to be selfish, but selfless. Like helping and paying attention to others around you, but that could just be what's expected from everyone for someone else. Possibly, for those heroes you aspire to be like, saving lives is the equivalent of being a good person. We all have different opinions on definitions and ideas so controversial like those. Be more specific."

Taking a deep breath after your mouthful, you shook your hands and kicked out your legs. Midoriya laid down on his back as well, stretching his arms out so his hand would brush against yours. A quiet "oh" escaped your throat at the contact, and you swore electricity passed between you both.

Midoriya made no reaction, so you ignored the tingles that lingered in your fingertips and the hairs that raised on your arms and neck. It was likely you imagined those currents that passed between you both.

That happened a lot.

Too often.

"You sound like Mr. Aizawa, you know," Midoriya commented, sparing you a glance before he chuckled. "Old and wise."

Feigning annoyance, you shifted your hips to move you onto your side and kicked Midoriya's calf, lips pressed together in a thin smile.

"Say that again and I'll have you in a headlock, Deku," you threatened, pushing yourself up from the bed of smooth grass and into a kneeling position. With a menacing grin, you cracked your knuckles, "I may be no hero, but I can kick ass; even yours."

At your words, a challenging grin grew on his face. Midoriya could never back down from a challenge, especially not one from you. "Oh, you think so?"

In a matter of seconds, you lept onto him, rolling around in the dirt. Arms and legs were flung and choked laughs escaped both your throats. Midoriya was much stronger, you knew that. But you could win with brains.

"I know so!" you countered.

Midoriya liked your confidence. A lot.

Well, he really liked you. So much that it hurt him.

Though, you would never know; you couldn't.

He couldn't risk losing you. Not now, not ever. So he would always settle for being your best friend. Something was always better than nothing.

He couldn't get greedy now, your value to him was worth more than any of the riches in the universe. One could argue you mattered more to him than his own future career as a hero.

Therefore, he would stand by your side idly, waiting for the moment for your hands to brush together so he could intertwine his fingers with yours. He would always wait for you. He would wait until you noticed him and his love. He would wait for you to learn to love him like he loved you.

Forever and always.

Always and forever.

It's only three minutes until this elevator comes and I can go, you reassured yourself. Work had been hectic, to put it lightly. With the unforeseen panic attack in your office earlier, persisting through repairs of practically pulverized gear and assembling new gadgets had proven to be a trial that left you fatigued.

Thankfully, the pattering of footsteps that had echoed in the hallway during your episode had been nothing but a ruse (and you firmly believed that the voice had made you conceive them). After tidying your trashed office, guzzling an entire bottle of water, and coating a thin, glossy sheen of chapstick onto your chapped lips, you had courageously exited the security of your office to check for any people in the hallway.

After all, you had an image to keep.

Fortunately, the universe had granted you that good omen and decided to not torture you further.

I doubt it'll grant me anymore, you pursed your lips sourly, merely huffing once the elevator reached your floor and its metal doors slid open for you. There were no other passengers, leaving you to revel in the delectation of silence, even if it was for a few measly minutes.

Something is always better than nothing, you internally argued. There's always good in a bad day- just like now. My day was poor, but the rest of my evening will be a substantial improvement from earlier.

Occupied by your uplifting and heartening thoughts, it felt as if your trip from the fifteenth floor (your floor) to the ground floor had gone by rapidly. Typically, your elevator trips were awkward, uncomfortable, and appeared to be prolonged misery graced from the hells bellow. A sudden ding signaled the reach of your destination and once the doors slid open, you squeezed through the crowd of people beginning to pile in.

The lobby of the agency was a spacious area, filled with luxurious yet cozy couches and loveseats, as well as countless offices. Workers paced back and forth, brows knitted and mouths tense. Sidekicks, interns, and heroes were in nearly ever corner. Some appeared to be littered with deep gashes and gnarly bruises, while others were unscathed. Certainly, the Deku Agency was a zestful and active one; one you were more than elated to escape.

Vigilantly, you swerved past your vexed colleagues and ignored the receptionist's buoyant chirp of farewell, lunging through the glass doors and stumbling into the outside.

You continued to strut forward, fists clenched tight and eyes narrowed. If you looked as if you were seconds from detonating, people would blatantly ignore you and try to escape your supposed incoming wrath.

Just like Bakugou.

Within seconds you covered most of the distance from the entrance of the agency to the edge of the building. However, when you were about to turn around the corner, a hasty hand promptly grabbed your shoulder with such brute strength you were sure could break your brittle bones. A horrified gasp left your throat, a sickening feeling brewing deep within your gut. Involuntarily, your eyes squeezed shut as you hit your assailant's chest, and a familiar, gruff voice immediately made your head shoot up.

"Don't scream, idiot," Bakugou warned, piercing vermillion eyes boring into yours. A medical mask covered his mouth and he wore a black baseball cap. "I'm not going to hurt you, just need'a talk to you."

Like a fish, you gaped stupidly at him, heart ricocheting through your chest. Looming over you at twice your height and size was Bakugo Katsuki, Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamight, the Top Two Pro-Hero.

Midoriya's biggest rival.

Also, both Midoriya's and your childhood best friend.

"Katsuki, you bitch-!" you hissed, pounding your fist against his solid chest. "You're dressed like this and don't expect me to scream the minute some suspicious looking guy grabs me from a corner?!"

Bakugou frowned as you ran your mouth, watching your eyebrows knit in exasperation and frustration. Piqued by your attitude, he clamped his free hand over your mouth with a groan and a roll of his eyes. "You done running your damn mouth off? I didn't come here to listen to your rambling."

Appalled, you shook your head and pulled yourself out of his grasp (you knew he didn't try and hold you back, if he wanted to he could have easily). With a sneer, you diverged from his path and strutted ahead.

You were not in the mood for Bakugou's bullshit today.

Without missing a beat, he followed behind you. His heavy footsteps stayed in time with your lighter ones- signifying he wasn't going to let you go until he got what he wanted.

Abruptly, you stopped and spun to face him, pointing your finger at him accusingly. "Say whatever you want to say, but make sure it's quick. I don't have time for this."

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, foot tapping against the pavement impatiently. Irked, Bakugou clicked his tongue at you and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"You've been acting off. It's showing," Bakugou bluntly stated. He was never one to beat around the bush when it came to others. Especially you, despite all the years of being acquainted. You reacted poorly with confrontation, he was well aware of that. Alas, it was the only way he knew to reach out to you, and possibly help you.

To be your hero.

Pressing your lips together tightly, you mustered your finest smile, gaze cold and blank. "I should be heading home, it'll get dark soon." At once, you stepped away from Bakugou, only to feel a hot, coarse hand engulf your wrist seconds later.

"You can't hide it, (Name)," he murmured, breath fanning against your neck. Gently, his giant and callused hand enveloped your tinier one, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Due to the nature of his quirk, his body temperature ran at a significantly higher temperature than most who did not obtain a pyromancer quirk. Although many found his heat to be overwhelming and suffocating, Bakugou was always a source of warmth that could melt even the iciest bits of you.

"Don't let him in. Don't do it," the voice whispered in your ear. "He's going to hurt you too."

"I'm not hiding anything," you retorted, eyes trained steadily on your feet. "I have nothing to hide."

His response was immediate. "That's a lie."

He knows.

You knew he knew. Bakugou always knew. Bakugou goddamn Katsuki always knew. He was a nosy little shit; always had been and always would be. He got it from his mother.

You knew that.

He knew that.

You just comprehended it too late. You were too slow. You couldn't keep up.

"You're just not good enough."

You knew that. You knew it. You always did. You just never accepted it.

"You've always been pathetic. Just give up."

They were right. They always were. Why did you even try?

You should've listened to them earlier. Tears began to fill your eyes, blurring your vision. You wretched your wrist out of his grasp and walked away. All words that flew from his mouth fell deaf upon your ears.

You couldn't let him see you so weak.

"Oi, (Name)! Get back here!" Bakugou hollered. There was a twinge of concern in his voice.

Don't hurt him too, (Name).

Your lips were locked, mouth dry and throat parched. Words refused to escape your sealed lips. Only tears fell and the urge to run and disappear felt possible.

So, that's what you did.

You ran from Bakugou and sprinted past people for countless blocks. There were not enough fingers on your hands to count how many times you crossed illegally and nearly slammed into an innumerable amount of cars, but you didn't care.

You never cared.

The familiar white lights of your treasured store came into view. A small smile graced your lips as you stumbled past a group of sketchy teenagers and into the vast parking lot. Finally, you could leave everyone and everything behind and learn how to let go.

You could learn how to not be selfish.

Just like Midoriya.

7:23 PM

7-11, the classic convenience store of Japan. Whether it be heroes, students, children, or elders, you could find people of all walks of life at the epoxy-floored store notorious for its delicious treats and savory dishes.

It was unfortunate that this homely store for many was considered your link to the retreat of your issues. When you were younger, you would have never pictured to use such a place like this as your method to get black-out drunk.

Except, this was the present; all that mattered was now.

Hurriedly, you staggered inside and carelessly swung a red hand basket onto your forearm and followed the familiar tiled path down to the cooler, where all their drinks were stored.

Various liquids were stored on the cool shelves: plastic water bottles with droplets of condensation sliding down their sides, glass containers filled with numerous types of teas, different types of milks stored in cartons, and your frequently visited section of them all— the alcoholic beverages. There were a couple of selections of beers, as well as fruity cocktails that were spiked with heavy amounts of rum.

Although the store wasn't too large on its variation in spirits, you didn't care. A drink was a drink. It served a purpose and you would accomplish that goal no matter the consequence.

The remnants of tears on your face dried once the chilly air of the refrigerator blasted against your skin, merely adding to the sting of your eyes. Every single muscle in your body was sore from your sprinting to flee from Bakugou— as a support hero, you never engaged in physical activity as much. It was a rough estimate, but you could guess that you had run at least a little bit less than three miles before you reached here.

Karma was one hell of a bitch.

Heedlessly, you grabbed a pack of beers and walked to the checkout counter. Picking up a couple of chocolate bars, you tossed them onto the counter, impatiently waiting for the employee to scan your items before you vanished back into the night.

"Your ID, ma'am?" requested the worker. Sluggishly, you pulled out your card and handed it to him, watching his eyes inspect the information printed on the plastic. With a nod, he handed your card back and totaled the cost before asking for your form of payment.

"Cash," you replied with a strained smile, pulling out a wad of bills.

The man finished checking out your items and bagging them, only to meekly mutter a tired, "Stay safe." You nodded in response, not trusting your voice.

Hurrying out the door, a quavered, muttered "thank you" fluttered past your lips and into the rosy evening, for no one's ears but your own.

Beer always tasted bitter to you. Every single time you picked up a bottle, can, or glass of it, it tasted bitter. Whether or not it was mixed with fresh fruit in the fermentation process or more than the common amount of yeast was used to make it sweeter, it still was harsh on your tongue and just as pungent.

Howbeit, you couldn't get enough of it. A disputant could argue that it was the easy access of beer that left you coming back to it- how effortless it was to just pick up a pack of beers, check-out, and go on your merry way. Employees paid little to no attention to those who bought beer. They all assumed beer drinkers were abortive alcoholics looking for a quick fix.

If you had wanted wine, champagne, rum, vodka or any other alcoholic beverage, a worker would have to be brought to take the drink out of its glass enclosure. Then, suspicion would arise. Questions would be asked.

It had occurred before.

You didn't care to think about it now though. Not when you had guzzled down two beers and were nursing your third. The other two bottles had been tossed haphazardly beside you on the grass, your legs dangling helplessly over the edge.

In the distance, the sun was setting. Warm hues filled the sky- layers of ruby red began at the top, far above your head, until it slowly melted into a borderline lobster red, becoming tangerine, slowly blending together to manifest a banana yellow that eventually turned into a lemon-like shade of yellow, until you could view no more.

The water below your feet was just as dark as you remembered it; its waves lapped at the stones below you, the water playfully skimming the sides of the boulders before receding back into the endless body of water.

Tears slipped down the apple of your cheeks, sliding down to your jaw and off, descending down to the oblivion of water beneath the cliff.

Bakugou's words resided in your heart, clouding your mind.

"You've been acting off. It's showing . . . You can't hide it, (Name)."

They know. They knew.

"They always knew," laughed the voice. "You can certainly try and hide it, but it doesn't mean it worked."

"They always knew, but they never said anything," you sobbed, pulling your knees to your chest, cradling your body close. "They never cared!"

"Exactly!" cried the voice. "That's what I've been telling you all this time! They never cared about you!"

The voice was right. You should've listened to them earlier. They knew what they were talking about. You knew that. They knew that.

Why didn't you listen earlier?

They were always right, in the end.

So, why did you fight before?

Midoriya, I always fought for Midoriya. Just for him.

You brought your beer bottle to your lips and guzzled it down, choking on your snot, tears, and the brew in your frantic gulp of the drink.

Wheezing, you tossed the glass to the side and laid back, grabbing your face in your hands as you curled into a fetal position.

What an idiot you were. Caring for a man, once a boy, that really was only a part of your memories. Your dreams, who only felt like your imagination. You and Izuku rarely spoke. Truthfully, you hadn't spoken in days, weeks, and possibly even months.

Midoriya had probably forgotten about you, just like everyone else had.

He was just like the rest. Midoriya Izuku, your childhood best friend, childhood crush, was just like every other person in your life- he hurt you exactly as they did. If not, more.

Midoriya was your everything. As children, you had protected him and stood by his side no matter how rocky the terrain became. He was supposed to be the one stable thing in your life, just like you were for him.

You fool.

You were nothing to Midoriya. You should have recognized that earlier. Once he entered UA, he had met fantastic people like Uraraka and Iida and didn't need you anymore.

Those thoughts weren't new, they had occurred before. Foolishly, you chose to ignore them. Now, you knew you were wrong for doing so.

A melancholic feeling settled over you as you downed the remaining bottles of beer, watching the sunset become a blur of black. The once colored hues of the sky faded into the sinister obsidian, with twinkling lights shining in the distance. The grass below you did not feel the same as it once had. Numerous times before, it had been soft, calming, and grounding. The blades of green always gently brushed against your skin, tickling your neck.

Presently, it prickled you, profoundly digging its leafy tips into you. It was a contrast to the loving embrace you were used to. Instead, it restricted you and attempted to pull you under.

It didn't feel right.

Nothing did.

"Then, why are you still here?" the voice questioned.

"I don't know," you whispered back, a wave of fresh tears welling up in your eyes. "I really don't."

Lifting yourself up, you kicked your feet in an attempt to shake out the jitters and calm yourself. The entire world felt like it was crashing down on you, but you couldn't properly react to it correctly, how you thought you were supposed to react.

What was wrong with you?

Why were you still here?

Why did you keep trying?

Why?

The intrusive thought sent you doubling over; you clasped your hands over your ears and hunched forward, face pointing towards the water. How long had you been here for? You definitely had lost your phone hours ago. It didn't matter, you wanted this to be over. Just for it to finally end.

"Do it, (Name)."

Jumping off the cliff wouldn't be a painless death, nor quick, but it would suffice. You were bound to be poisoned from the alcohol and if you happened to just hit your head on the way down? Easy as pie.

Shakily, you stood up despite the ache screaming within your bones. Every part of you was shaking, your teeth were chattering, your knees were knocking together, and your stomach had curled in on itself.

This is for the best, you told yourself. Just jump and it'll all be over.

"Jump!" echoed the voice. A watery grin spread across your face.

You squatted down, mimicking the awkward position of a jump squat.

"Jump!" it repeated.

"I'm so sorry, Izuku," you choked, spilling your deepest pains to the wind, the trees, and ocean below you. "I know you don't care about me, but I'm still sorry."

You were leaving without a trace. With nobody able to contact you or track you. With no farewells, appreciative notes, or apologies.

Maybe it was meant to be.

Not you and Midoriya.

Just you and yourself.

All alone.

It was nearly involuntarily how quick you threw yourself off the cliff, eyes shut tight as you felt the world around you fall. It was finally ending.

"NO!" a voice cried, somewhere above you. You didn't care enough about it to open your eyes.

Once again.

Weightless, free. Those were the words that could only describe how you felt. It was better this way. The voice was right.

As always.

"(Y/N)!"

Close. You were so close to dipping your feet in the water. You knew it.

You wanted to see this, to have one last memory before you died. The sight wouldn't be the prettiest, but you would cherish it even after your death.

The lids of your eyes flew open. Everything around you appeared as if it was falling with you. They were blurs of objects as you passed by them at inhuman speeds.

Nearly there.

You were nearly there.

Until you weren't.

Until someone caught you.

Until a multitude of what felt to be thick tendrils wrapped themselves around you as the tips of your toes skimmed the water, snatching you from the grips of death.

Until you were being pulled back up to this person, this monster, and into their rather warm hold. They hugged you close to their chest, so close that you could hear the erratic pounding of their heart.

Incoherent blubbers tumbled out of their mouth as they rocked you slowly, tucking your face into the crook of their neck. Your eyes fluttered shut, mind unable to process what had just happened.

They were warm, so warm. And you were tired. A little nap wouldn't hurt.

Not at all.

Their pleads for you to stay awake were unheard as you succumbed to the darkest depths of your mind, to the aching of your heart and body.

All alone.

Once again.

As always.

If you want a part 2, you're gonna have to threaten me for it or else it may never come. 🤭

Thank you for reading and I'll see you in part two! Consider checking out any of my other stories for content similar to this!

#© platrom, plot / writing / banners & headers. do not repost, reblogs are appreciated! please consider leaving a comment and a heart! <3

PART 1 (HERE) / PART 2

423 notes · View notes