Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

(hey, idk. there’s enough fanfiction out there with this disclaimer that I feel it should be implied at this point, but I don’t own any of the characters or the world this fic uses.)

(y/n)= Your name
(l/n)= last name

(y/n) let out an amazed huff of air as she watched her nephew, who was only a head shorter than her, effortlessly haul her plasma screen television into her newly rented apartment. “Damn, Kiddo, maybe you are the next All Might.”

Izuku flushed a little at the praise.“W-who me? A-aunt (y/n), that’s crazy. I could never get to that level.”

(y/n) ruffled his hair with a fond grin. “Well, you never know. You did make it into the hero program, you’re already halfway there in my book.”
She was trying her best to be the fun supportive aunt she always wanted to be, but it was a little hard, seeing as she’d only just learned the kid existed a week ago, and vice versa. The truth was, they were still getting used to each other, just like (y/n) was still getting used to having her sister, Inko, in her life again. Speaking of Inko…

(y/n) turned to see her older sister putting dishes in what she felt to be the right cabinets. “Thanks for helping me move in, you two. I really didn’t expect this from you, especially after…” (y/n)’s sentence trailed off. No need to dredge up the past again.

“Nonsense,” Inko replied, her voice a little shaky, as she used her quirk to lift a stack of plates from a box on the ground. “you’re my baby sister. There’s no way I’d let you move everything in here by yourself.”

(y/n) sighed as she leaned on the counter next to her previously estranged sibling. “You must have thought I was such a brat back in the day.”

Inko gasped as she put the plates away “Never. I never thought that of you. You were doing the only thing you could to take control of yourself. If anyone was acting like a brat, it was me.”

(y/n) sighed. Her sister always ended up blaming herself for the shortcomings of others. Inko would never think this of her, but truth be told, (y/n) had run away. She ran until she got sick of running, and then she came crawling back. (y/n) wrapped her sister in an affectionate hug, which was hesitantly, but earnestly returned.“you’ve always been a good girl, (y/n). You’ll always be my baby sister.”

(y/n) groaned, releasing her. “Jesus Christ, Inko, I’m 28. You have a son to baby now, don’t you? Treat me like an adult for once.” Inko laughed sadly. “Being treated like a child is the reason you left in the first place, huh?”

Izuku, having just moved the couch into the apartment was now standing awkwardly in the doorway, listening to the conversation. “Uhh, I just thought I should let you guys know that I was going to look for any nearby takeout places for us to get food from later.”
(y/n) smiled. “Great idea, Kiddo.” She handed him a bit of cash to ‘burn while he was exploring the place’ and sent him out. Inko watched the interaction until her son had closed the front door behind him.

“(y/n), I want him to have a good relationship with you.” This startled (y/n). “Whoa, Ink, where is this coming from?” Her sister wrung her hands. “It’s just that, you can count the good relationships he’s had with family members on one hand… One finger, if I’m being really honest, and I just want him to have one more familial tie he can count on…”
She took a deep breath “so, I think he should come and spend weekends with you. If that’s alright, I know you just got here, and you just met him but-”

(y/n) cut off Inko before her face could turn tomato red. “-Inko, I get it. I think that’s a great idea.”
Relief and joy could plainly be seen on Inko's face. “Oh, great. That’s wonderful.” (y/n), realizing that her older sister was on the brink of tears, decided to change the subject.

Has she always been this sad?

“Alright! These dishes aren’t going to put themselves away!” The distraction helped her sister immensely, it would seem, as her mood perked up significantly afterward.

Later that evening, the three of them sat around the coffee table and ate takeout from a local Chinese place, before Inko and Izuku went home. With a hug from each of them, and a promise for more visits soon, the two were off, and (y/n) was left in her apartment, alone.

It was a lot quieter than she had anticipated. She could faintly hear the stomping feet of her next-door neighbor and prayed he hadn’t heard the rather personal conversation she’d had with her sister through the apparent paper-thin walls earlier. Oh well. No sense worrying about the perception of a neighbor she hadn’t met yet. (y/n) groaned, as she attempted to unpack her bookshelf next. She got about halfway through before was brought out of her task by the feeling of a big ball of fur rubbing her leg.

“hey, Mochi.” (y/n) cooed as she picked up her ginormous Maine Coon. Mochi simply meowed back at her, not at all perturbed with the fact that he was now being carried around the apartment like a big, hairy, baby. “Look who came out of hiding. Too much excitement today, huh?”

“Mao.”

She tossed him onto the couch, where he decided to curl up and nap. He’d taken the cross-country move rather well, all things considered. (y/n) rubbed at her eyes. It was getting rather late, and tomorrow was a big day. She got ready for bed and fell into a dreamless sleep the minute her head hit the pillow.
In the morning, (y/n) fed Mochi, made breakfast, put on her best interview attire and set off for her 9 am interview at a nearby publishing firm. As she turned to lock her door, her stompy neighbor from the night before emerged from his own apartment.

In a scruffy, broody way, he was rather attractive. His dark hair pulled away from his face in a half man-bun, he styled dark clothing and a white scarf. His five o’clock shadow was extremely noticeable on his face. As he turned to walk down the hall, his eyes landed on (y/n).

“Oh! Hello, I’m your new neighbor, (l/n).” She held her hand out to shake.

He simply eyed it before saying “You’re not going to be too loud, right?” too loud? Well, the walls were thin, she supposed that was a fair concern. He could have been a little less rude about it, though.

“No, I don’t think so.” (y/n) offered with a smile, hand still outstretched.

“Good.” Was all he said as he walked passed her. What a perfect Asshole. (y/n) thought bitterly. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have too many run-ins with him, no matter how unconventionally handsome he was.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

(y/n) = your name

(l/n) = last name

The interview went off without a hitch, and by Wednesday afternoon (y/n) was officially the newest Assistant Publisher for Quills Publishing.  The work week flew by, as she spent the entire week with her nose stuck in a manuscript and a blue pen tucked behind her ear. On Friday, (y/n) left work early, and drove down to a small ice-cream parlor on the nicer side of town. As she got out, she spotted Izuku, sitting with two other kids around his age.

As she snuck up behind him, she lightly shoved his shoulders. “Boo.” She gave as a greeting. Her nephew responded by dramatically shrieking and looking in her direction with a somewhat terrified expression on his face He’s so… jumpy and nervous. Before she can properly greet him, or even apologize for spooking him, the kid with glasses across the table spoke up. “Excuse me ma’am, but it’s extremely rude to just frighten strangers. I think it would be best if you apologize for your quite immature behavior.” His arms were moving about him in such a chaotic fashion it was hard to tell whether he was a human person or not.

“Ahh! I-Iida, no, it’s okay. This is my Aunt (y/n).” She smiles and waves at the kids. The one apparently named Iida abruptly got up from his chair and made an exaggerated bow in apology that she rather awkwardly informed him wasn’t necessary. Iida, and the girl who had been introduced as Uraraka, turned out to be good kids. (y/n) sat and chatted with them for a bit while waiting for Izuku to finish his ice-cream. When he finally had, (y/n) stood up and stretched. “Alrighty, Kiddo. You ready to hit the road? Got everything you need for the weekend?” Izuku seemed to brighten at the mention of the upcoming event. “Yep!” he exclaimed, motioning to a duffle bag that was sitting on the bench next to him. Iida and Uraraka stayed on the bench as Aunt and nephew made their way to the car on the other side of the lot. “It was nice meeting you, Miss (l/n)! Bye Deku!” the girl cheerily waved “Y-yeah. Bye, Uraraka.” Izuku called back, as his cheeks grew almost as rosy as those of the girl he was speaking to.

Once the car was making its way down the road, (y/n) decided to poke some fun. “Well she was cute, don’t you think?” Izuku blushed and looked out the passenger window. “Yeah, very cute.”  (y/n) took a second to look at his expression through the window reflection. Adorable. “I’m glad you have such nice friends. That’s something I never had growing up.” The boy looked back at his aunt “why’s that, Aunt (y/n)?” The woman in question shrugged. “Well, for one thing, I’m quirkless.” She said it so matter of fact, he almost thought she’d said something else. “You are?!?” It was a shout, and he hadn’t meant it that way. (y/n) winced. “I am. It never bothered me, the things I wanted to accomplish in life didn’t need a quirk to be fulfilled, so I never really thought of myself as incomplete or disabled. Others didn’t feel that way though. Especially not your grandparents. They used to…” She trailed off, looking back at Izuku who seemed more than a little surprised “You know, never mind. That’s not something we need to get into.” She really didn’t want to think about her parents right now. “Does… Me being quirkless, Is that a big deal for you?” (y/n) asked, uncertainly. “N-No! Not at all, I’m just, surprised. It explains a lot though.” She laughed heartily

“oh? What does it explain?” she asks, eyes back on the road as the puts her right turn signal on. “Ah…just...me being quirkl-err, my quirk being so late to develop. If quirklessness runs in the family, then I guess that’d make sense.” (y/n) nodded a bit. Things were quiet in the car until they got to the next stoplight. “Hey, Izuku,” The kid turned toward her in an inquisitive manor “you wanna see a real quirk?” (y/n) then proceeded to cross her eyes, before letting one pupil move all the way to the other side of the eye, and then doing the same thing with her other eye. The boy laughed “gross! How do you do that?” She shrugged “It’s just pure talent.”

Back at the apartment, the two worked at opposite ends of the dining table. One on math homework, the other on a manuscript. “Ug! This is just a gross line; can you believe this? ‘Sounding throaty, like a dog before it barfed’ who uses that as a simile?” (y/n) complained to her companion. He looked up, with a bit of humor “I guess that one isn’t making it to publishing, is it?” Izuku stated. “Yeah, no shit.”  (y/n) agreed, tossing the rather lackluster writing piece to the side.  “Alright, well. No more of that. Wanna help with dinner?” she asked as she got up to turn on her stereo. A jumpy melody came on and (y/n) began to dance around her kitchen space as she pulled out some pots and pans. “Is dancing required if I help?” Deku asked timidly. (y/n) nodded back as she pulled some chicken breasts out of the fridge. “Singing, too.” She said, swaying rhythmically as she got a box of chicken breading mix down from the cabinet. “Why does it matter? It isn’t like anyone’s going to see you.” She said, smacking the box in her hand like a tambourine.

Deku gave an easy smile at that “I guess you’re right.” he said, picking up a wooden spoon from the counter as he began to sing into it. (y/n) smiled “There we go!” she handed him the pot and a box of mac and cheese “You can handle making this, right?” “I-I think so, there’s directions, r-right?” She nodded as she continued to prance around her kitchen. “How old are you, fourteen? Fifteen? When I was your age, I’d already learned how to cook, sew, change a flat tire, fix a sink, change a car battery, all kinds of stuff.” She said, grabbing her nephew’s hand and twirling him a few times as the music played around them. “Of course, I didn’t have much choice but to learn. Not like anyone was around to help me.” Izuku stopped “not even my mom or your parents?” (y/n)’s dance lost a bit of it’s enthusiasm as she said “ahh. That’s a story for another time, I think.” Deku didn’t know what he’d said that made her close off, but his aunt had gone quiet. “Could... you maybe teach me all those things?”  he asked to recover the mood that had been suddenly dropped. (y/n) looked over her shoulder at the boy she was only just getting to know, but already adored so completely. “Sure, Kiddo. We’ve got every weekend from now ‘till eternity, right? That’s plenty of time to teach you everything I know.” The song changed to a happier and more upbeat one, and suddenly her mood was back. Soon they were just two idiots, making food and dancing their butts off.

The aroma from the fried chicken filled the kitchen and excited Izuku’s stomach. They’d spent the prep period laughing heartily and singing along to the stereo. At one point he even dipped (y/n) and made her laugh so hard she snorted. When his mother had first told him, he might be spending the weekends with this aunt he never knew he had, he’d been a little reluctant. What kind of person doesn’t talk to their own sister for fourteen years? While that question is still in the air, he’s starting to really like the idea of getting to know this new member of his family. She was fun, and silly, and radiated a sort of motherly kindness that just put him at ease. He wondered Idly, if he hadn’t been so dead set on being a hero, or if he’d accepted his quirklessness the way (y/n) did if perhaps he would have ended up being like her. Sarcastic, Unashamed, and Easygoing.

Just as he thought that a rough knock was heard at her door. (y/n) put a hand on his shoulder. “Stay here, Bud.”  (y/n) answered the door with a smile on her face, despite seeing her less than pleasant neighbor on the other end. He seemed a little worse for wear, what with the dark circles under his eyes. “Hello, I don’t think I ever got your name the other day,” she said, a little passive-aggressively. “…(l/n).”

“..Uh, no, that’s my name.” he ignored her. “Turn that music off. I’m trying to sleep.” (y/n) was flabbergasted. “… It’s five-thirty in the afternoon.” He shrugged. “Look, either play good music or shut it off.” Offended, she said “I am playing good music. I’m sorry If your tastes are so skewed. Maybe, instead of complaining about someone playing their music at a normal God damn hour, you fix your- apparently, fucked-sleep schedule.” He raised an eyebrow at her, perhaps he hadn’t expected to her to have such bite.

“Fine.” He scoffed. “Have it your way.” He turned to walk back through his own opened door “And what does that mean?” he gave her a grin, or what she assumed was supposed to be one. As he disappeared into his apartment. What an absolute freak. (y/n) thought as she closed her door.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

(y/n) = your name

(l/n)= last name

(y/n) could trace back the exact moment that put her in the position she was now. That moment her neighbor had given her that Totoro-esque smile, she was doomed to be hammering on his door at three in the morning trying to be heard through the god-awful yelling that was emitting from his apartment. Some of the other people on the floor were starting to emerge from their own homes, also frustrated with the noise. Just as she was about to pound again, the door swung open, and the handsome headache appeared in the doorway with a smirk on his face. “Are... are you serious right now?” (y/n) asked, on the brink of hysterics. The man was smug, as he said, “you refused to honor my reasonable request.” (y/n) pinched the bridge of her nose. “Playing music at a normal volume at a normal time is reasonable. You know what isn’t reasonable? Waking up your neighbors at three in the morning. I have a kid in there, you know.” She said pointing to her apartment door. He seemed genuinely surprised. “…You’re a mom?” she rolled her eyes. “No, but I look after the kid on weekends, and he’s not going to be able to enjoy the things we planned on doing tomorrow if he’s exhausted.”

As she continued to converse, Izuku appeared in the hall, wearing boxers and an All Might tee. “What’s the noise for?” he asked. He paused when his eyes fell on the man (y/n) was currently arguing with. “Mr. Aizawa? I didn’t know you lived here.” Well, at least she finally had a name for the guy, Aizawa. (y/n) turned toward her nephew. “You know him, Bud?” Izuku nodded, but before he could answer Aizawa spoke up “I’m his homeroom teacher.” Fantastic. So not only was he an unmitigated jackass, he was a pro hero, too. She always hated heroes who thought they could just get away with bullshit like the kind he was pulling just because they punched things for a living.

“Well, now that you know who the kid is, are you going to turn off your loud-ass screaming? What even is that?” he smirked, avoiding the second half of the question, pressing the pause button on a phone he pulled from his pocket. The track was labeled ‘Mic screams for ten hours (for drastic measures)’ what a tool. “Sure. Good night, Midoriya. (l/n).” He shut the door. And the rest of the neighbors that had come out to view the spectacle went back to their own apartments. (y/n) looked to Deku. “Is he normally such an absolute ass?” He shook his head. “No, he’s normally pretty cranky, but other than that he’s really cool. His quirk is awesome, too. He can nullify any quirk just by looking at the person, and he’s got this scarf that…” (y/n) started to herd Izuku back into the apartment as he began to go on a long-winded explanation of Aizawa as a hero. She’d learned after her first meeting with the kid that if you got him talking about pros, he wasn’t likely to stop. “oh wow, really?” (y/n) murmured as she guided him back to the pullout couch. He was still talking, but his eyes were starting to droop. He didn’t notice that his aunt had scooped up the monstrous cat that had made himself comfy on Deku’s pillows and was now on her way back to her own bed, no longer listening to his ramblings as he slowly drifted to sleep.

Chapter Text

(y/n) = your name

(l/n) = last name

(y/n) heard nothing from her neighbor for the next couple of weeks. The next time she ran into him, it was semi on purpose. She figured she’d surprise Deku by picking him up from school early. What kid didn’t want to be excused from class, right? She had done everything right. She called the school, got permission, she was even personally escorted to the field where the class was being held by a faculty member. He’d introduced himself as the hero Present Mic. “but you, can call me Hizashi.” He said with a wink. “… Present Mic it is then.” (y/n) answered curtly.

She really wasn’t a fan of people who flaunted their quirks for a living. It wasn’t that she was jealous of them, it was just that, in her experience, they were narcissistic blowhards who thought everyone in the world just adored them. It would seem this ‘Present Mic’ was no exception. When they arrived at the field, it appeared that the class was in the middle of setting up sparring matches. A kid with spiky yellow hair and a girl who was the color of bubble gum seemed to be hashing it out in a makeshift sparring ring, while the rest of the class sat on a set of bleachers. (y/n) had to admit, they were impressive. It almost made her miss her krav maga classes from when she was a kid. Almost. Spying Izuku sitting on a bench near Iida and Uraraka, (y/n) waved. The other girl smiled brightly and waved back enthusiastically. She is such a cutie. “(l/n)? What are you doing here?” Ah. Her final obstacle. “Hello there Mr. Aizawa, I’m here to pick Izuku up from school.” She made sure to stress the suffix. The man next to (y/n) started to speak again, but this time he was loud. Extra loud. Well, at least (y/n) knew where Aizawa had gotten that recording of a dying animal, now. “Hold up. Shouta, you know this babe? You’ve been holding out on me!”

 Aizawa grimaced at the noise. Well, at least that’s one thing he had in common with her. “She’s my neighbor.” He responded, “(l/n), the school day isn’t over for another forty-five minutes.” (y/n) nodded, pulling out a note “I know. I have permission to take him.” Aizawa looked over the note before handing it back to her. “No. he’ll leave when class is done.” (y/n) blinked once. Then twice. “What?” he had the gall to look a bit smug. “What, did Yamada ruin your hearing? I said no.” (y/n) huffed.

“Well, my note says he’s free to leave. See here? Signed by the principal and everything.” She waved the note in his face in an attempt to make a point, but he just swatted her hand away. “If Midoriya wants to serve detention for the next month, then by all means, he’s free to leave.” (y/n)’s anger was rising. “You can’t do that! If you threaten my nephew like that again, I will not hesitate to take it up with U.A. and get you fired.” Present Mic gave a whoop. “Well now, isn’t she saucy.” Both (y/n) and Aizawa turned to him, informing him to shut up before they continued their circular argument for another five minutes. “you are really annoying, you know that?” Aizawa told her.

(y/n) just nodded along. “And you look like a mummy who shops at Hot Topic. No one’s perfect. At least I don’t threaten children for leaving class early when they’ve been excused.”

Izuku picked that time to speak up “Aunt (y/n), there are only twenty minutes left of class. Can we just stay until it’s over?” well that knocked the wind right out of her sails. (y/n) let out a long, forced breath. “Alright.” She started to turn and make her way up the bleachers to sit and watch the rest of the matches. It seemed the pink moth girl had used the distraction to her advantage because she was currently sitting quite victoriously on the Pikachu boy’s back while he laid face down in the dirt. “You’re welcome to sit and watch, (l/n),” Aizawa called as she plopped down in the stands next to a red-haired boy. “How gracious of you.” (y/n) spat.

Present Mic took his leave with a flirtatious wave that (y/n) did not return. Class 1A was silent after that and refused to meet the gaze of both her and Mr. Aizawa, as she watched Izuku go up in a match against Iida. They were both talented fighters, but Izuku was at an obvious disadvantage, seeing as if he used his quirk, his bones were going to break. Still, he held his own fantastically, even flipping the taller boy over his shoulder. After class (y/n) climbed down from the stands as Izuku dashed to her side. “How’d I do?” he asked her, clearly seeking vindication. She smiled and ruffled his hair. “you looked really cool out there.” She praised as she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and brought him into a side hug. “Now come on. This weekend, I’m going to show you how to sew, and cheat at poker.” She heard a rough scoff from behind her. “Some role model you are.” (y/n) gave Aizawa a sharp look before letting her nephew lead her out to the parking lot.

Chapter Text

(y/n) = your name

(l/n) = last name

(y/n) got home from work one fateful afternoon and was completely exhausted. Some pretentious wannabe poet had burst into her office during her lunch break to tell her just where she could stick her rejection letter and flipped her desk over before being escorted out of the building. She’d spent the rest of her workday picking up loose manuscript papers and rice off the floor. By the time she got back to her apartment she was drained, and her feet ached in her office mandated heels. Of all the times for her car battery to die, it had to be today. She felt she deserved to flop down on the couch and nap the rest of the day.

*Bzzz* *Bzzz* unfortunately, whoever was calling her didn’t appear to agree. “Hello?” (y/n) greeted in an unamused monotone. The sniffling she heard on the other end caught her attention. “(y-y/n) …” (y/n) felt a pit open up in her stomach that her heart dropped into. “Inko?? What’s going on, what’s wrong?” the phone relayed several heart-wrenching moans before Inko’s voice said, “I’m at the ER.” (y/n) was already putting her coat back on. “What? Are you alright?” Inko only managed two more words before she let a fit of sobs lose into the phone “…It’s Izuku.” (y/n) assured her sister that she’d be right there, before she burst out of her apartment, only barley remembering to lock the door before she was barreling down the stairs, and out of the building. Soon, she was running down the block, aching feet forgotten as her heels clacked across the concrete at a frantic tempo.

When she finally appeared at the ER, she found Inko pacing the lobby. When she looked up to see (y/n), she broke down, running into her sister’s arms. Despite Inko being a little over a decade older, (y/n) towered over her which was evident as the two embraced. (y/n) hushed her sister as she sobbed. “What happened, is he alright?” Inko, between shaky sobs, explained that Izuku’s class had been attacked while on a field trip to the USJ. “Everyone’s fine, he just broke a lot of his body trying to defend his friends. You should see their teacher, he’s a lot worse off.” At the mention of Aizawa, (y/n) stiffened. “Why? What happened to him?” Inko sniffed “H-He took on several villains at once, so his students could escape. He was really beaten up, but he should be fine, too.” (y/n) had never encountered a hero who was willing to enter a fight that stacked against them just to save others, as ironic as that may be, considering the profession. Perhaps she’d misjudged her quirky neighbor. After calming Inko down enough, (y/n) made her way to the front desk. “Hello, my name is (l/n) (y/n), may I visit my nephew? His name is Midoryia...?” the receptionist clacked on her keyboard for a second before she nodded “If he’s awake, I don’t see why not.” She talked into a phone on her desk for a few seconds before a nurse emerged from a side door and motioned for (y/n) to follow.

“How are you feeling, Bud?” (y/n) cooed as she smoothed hair out of Deku’s face. “Better.” Was all he said. The room smelled of rubbing alcohol, and the lighting was a bit dim due to the privacy curtain that was tightly shut over the side of the room that allowed for sunlight to enter. All in all, not the most exciting place to spend a Tuesday afternoon. “How is it that you are the only student in your class to get injured this bad? What did the villains do, hit you with a bus?” Izuku chuckled at that before he clutched his chest and moaned. “Stop. Laughing hurts.” (y/n) chuckled a bit herself. “Alright, tough guy, what other actions hurt you?” He sighed and let his head sink into the pristine hospital pillows. “All of them.” (y/n) poked his cheek. “Serves you right for fighting someone twice your size.” He swatted at her finger with a casted arm. “Could you tell me a story or something, to distract me from all the pain I’m in?”

“What kind of story do you want? Fair warning, I’m really more of a story critique than a writer.” Izuku let her question hang in the air for a beat. The room was quiet, save for the heavy, muffled breathing of the curtained off occupant on the other side of the room.

“…What happened between you and mom before I was born?”

The (l/n) family had always been a prideful one. When their youngest daughter was born quirkless, they did everything they could to ‘keep her from harm’. She was homeschooled from the time she was five until she turned fifteen and finally snapped. “I’m not as fragile as you think I am! What’s the point of martial arts lessons if you don’t let me go outside and use them if I need to?” Her father shouted back, matching (y/n)’s anger. “They’re to teach you discipline. Something you obviously haven’t been learning. Sneaking out? really (y/n)?”

“You don’t give me much of a choice, only letting me go out if I’m being chaperoned! You are so controlling! Now I know why Inko left!”  (y/n) had been protected (hidden) in her home for the last ten years. Her parents were too afraid her quirklessness would land her in trouble (embarrass the family) to let her out of their sight. Despite the harsh restrictions, the (l/n) family was still well-to-do, and so (y/n) had a lot of things others kids her age didn’t. Her own bank account, for one thing. In fact, she had everything she would need to make it on her own if she needed to. That night, 3 October, 21XX; (y/n) packed a bag and stormed out her front door. “Where do you think you’re going?” her father called out to her from the staircase. “I’m getting the hell out of here.” “no, you’re not. Get back here this instant young lady.”

(y/n) ignored him and continued walking out into the front yard. Her mother appeared next to her father. “If you leave right now, know that we won’t come after you, and we certainly won’t come to help you if you get in trouble.” (y/n) paused at that, before she turned around and grinned “That sounds good to me.” That was the last time she ever saw her parents.

As (y/n) walked off into the night, she started to panic. Where was she going to stay? Her thoughts immediately turned to her sister. Inko had been kicked out two years prior. Their parents had not liked who she’d chosen to marry, and Inko refused to leave him, so she was promptly disowned. Parents of the year; theirs were not.

When (y/n) knocked on Inko’s door, her husband answered. “(y/n). What do you want? Do you know what time it is, girlie?” She hated when he called her that. “Is Inko home?” (y/n) asked “She is.” “… well, can I talk with her?”

The man crossed his arms and stared her down. “Depends, what do you want?” (y/n) rolled her eyes. “Parents kicked me out. need a place to stay.” A harsh, booming laugh was heard from her brother-in-law “well you can’t stay here.” (y/n) felt put out, and stupid. “And why not?” He poked her in the forehead and gave her the ‘because I said so’ line. “I aint about to let some brat into my home. Inko knows how I feel about kids, she ain’t gonna let you stay either.” As he said her name, the woman appeared in the hall behind him, wondering what was going on.  (y/n) relayed her situation to her, repeating her request to stay. “I told you, no.” Inko’s husband growled. “well, I think Inko should have a say.” Exasperated, the man went back into the house, disappearing from her view. “I’m sorry, (y/n). He said no.” (y/n) stomped her foot, like a bratty child. “Yeah? And what about what you say?” Her sister looked timid as she averted her eyes “I say what he says. Maybe if you go back home, and apologize, they’ll let you back in.”

“I’m so not going back there! Come on, Inko, we’re sisters! Just let me in for the night!” Inko looked back into the house with a frantic expression, and then down at (y/n). “He said no, I’m sorry.” Something clicked in (y/n)’s brain.

“Ink… is he... abusive? Does he hurt you?” At the question, Inko stiffened, and her gaze became angry. “That isn’t any of your business. You can’t stay here, (y/n), and that’s final. Goodnight!” the door was abruptly slammed in her face, and she could hear the sound of a deadbolt slamming home. (y/n) backed down the steps, speechless before she took off into the night. No clear destination in mind.

Izuku was speechless, and (y/n) sighed to end the silence. “I was such a brat. I threw a fourteen-year temper tantrum and ended up right back here where you see me now.”

“W-what did you do once My mom shut the door?” (y/n) looked down at her nephew. Well, at least he wasn’t concerned with his broken ribs anymore. “I took the buss out of town and went all the way to the other side of Japan. Got a job at a truck stop gas station. It wasn’t the safest work environment, but they didn’t pry when I lied about my age, and it paid well enough to survive off of when I worked full time. I did that until I’d finished both High School and College online, got my degree, and started applying to jobs at publishing firms. I learned to do everything for myself by watching YouTube videos and through trial and error. By the time I was nineteen, I was successfully self-sufficient. “

Deku stared at her in awe. “The only reason I even came back was that I ended up finding an old picture of me and Inko at the bottom of an old backpack. It reminded me that no matter how much I taught myself how to be an adult, I was still being incredibly immature. I called her up and decided to move back home. Nothing was really keeping me where I was.”

“Was moving back worth it?” (y/n) smiled, pinching her Nephew’s cheeks. “I got to meet you, Bud. Yeah, I think It was worth it.” He whined until she released his face, at which time, he promptly asked her to get him his notebook and pencil out of his bag. She complied and watched as he opened the book to a page with a rough sketch of her on it, and several bullet points scrawled beside it. “What’s this?” she asks, confused. “It’s my hero journal.” “Okay, what am I doing in there?” Izuku begins to write on the page as he says “I write down all the heroes I learn about in here, because I think they’re amazing, and I really admire them. I write down facts and abilities that are known about them. I started making a page for you once you started teaching me to do all the thinks you learned. I think you’re really strong, and amazing, and I think you deserve a hero page, so I made you one.” (y/n) had been called lots of things in her life. Quirkless, girlie, useless… never strong. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she began to cry. Quietly, at first, and then loudly and uncontrollably. Izuku panicked. “Aunt (y/n)! What did I say? What’s wrong?” (y/n) lifted her head and shook it, wrapping the boy in a tight embrace. “Ow! Auntie, careful!” (y/n) softened her grip a little and sobbed into Izuku’s shoulder. “S-sorry. I’m just. I’m really glad I met you, Izuku.” The boy returned the hug. “I’m glad I met you, too.” When She’d calmed down, (y/n) released the boy and rubbed her eyes. “Okay.” She sniffed. “Now, could you help me with something?”

Chapter Text

(y/n) = Your name

(l/n) = last name

(H/c) = hair color

(e/c) = eye color.

Aizawa Shouta had been released from the hospital three days ago. All the time since then had been devoted to actively trying to not think about (l/n) (y/n). It wasn’t like he thought about her because he wanted to, the woman was an absolute nightmare to deal with. It was just that, he had a newfound respect for her after hearing her tell her life story in a quiet hospital room from the other side of a curtain. It’s not like he meant to eavesdrop, but he was basically stuck in bed, mummified thanks to his injuries. He had no other choice but to listen.

If you’d given Shota a thousand guesses, he’d have never concluded that the confident, sharp-tongued woman was a quirkless runaway. He supposes, out of all people, he should know better than to trust appearances. After he got home from the hospital, all he could think about was how strong she was for making it as far as she did. How loving she was towards Midoriya. How her (h/c) hair seemed so soft, and how fiery her (e/c) eyes were when she verbally sparred with him.

Fuck. He respected her so much. That was it. He spent the rest of his paid time off thinking about ways to perhaps apologize to her, for being as short with her as he had been. He’d completely dismissed her when they first met, and that probably set her off more than it would most. She must have been snubbed like that by everyone she’d ever met.

It was as he pondered this, that he heard a knock at his door. Reluctantly, he answered it to see his bashful little neighbor on the other side. In one hand, she cradled a big furry monster, and in the other, she carried a pack of his favorite brand of juice pouches. “Izuku gave me a few tips on how to apologize to you. May I come in?” Ah. That’s right. She had asked Midoriya if he knew anything Shouta had an interest in, he hadn't really pondered why she’d wanted to know until now. Silently, he stepped out of the doorway, and let her walk in before he shut the door behind her. She placed down the two things she was carrying, and only then did he realize that the fuzzy thing she’d brought into his apartment was actually a very big, very fluffy cat. Immediately, he squatted down next to it only for it to stand up on its haunches and hiss at him.

He’d never been so upset about anything in his life. (y/n) crouched next to him, and immediately, the cat moved to be in between Shouta and his neighbor, as the beast hissed again. “Ah. Sorry. I guess this wasn’t such a good idea. Mochi was a rescue. Both he, and his previous owner used to be regularly beaten by the man of the household. It’s left Mochi mistrustful of men, and pretty darn protective.” The woman stroked the cat to try and soothe him. “Sorry, I hadn’t even thought about how Mochi would react to seeing you, Izuku just told me you liked cats, and I thought, ‘Hey! I have one of those!’” Shouta stood up and backed away from the cat and its owner, which got the animal to stop hissing, but the furball was still significantly puffed up.

“It’s alright. He’s a good boy.” Shouta said. “Ah. Speaking of, why are you apologizing, exactly?” (y/n) stood back up as well and avoided his gaze.

“W-well, it’s just that, I’ve been treating you poorly simply because I assumed I knew what kind of person you were. I realized recently that my assumption was wrong.”

Same here, (y/n).

“You risked your life to protect those kids-to protect my nephew-and…I’m grateful.”

Shouta shook his head. “Don’t be. I was just doing my job. As their teacher, and as a pro-hero. It’s my duty to keep them safe.” (y/n) just nodded and met his gaze. That fire was back in her eyes, but this time, it wasn’t because she was angry.

“That’s just it! Your attitude about the whole thing makes your actions that much more admirable. You got hurt. Really hurt” she continued, motioning to the scar that was now sitting below his eye, and at the rest of his bandaged body. “because you were protecting someone important to me. That may not be a big deal to you, but it is to me. I think the world of you, Aizawa Shouta, and I’d like it if we could start over, and maybe try and be friends.”

Out of all the ways he thought this meeting would shake out, this one had to be the least likely. “…Alright, (l/n). Friends.” She beamed at him and held out her hand. He grasped it, expecting a handshake. Instead, she pulled him into a tight hug.

 Several things happened at once. Shouta let out a loud, pain-filled groan, (y/n) audibly gasped and immediately started apologizing incoherently, and a big, angry, furball named Mochi let out the most enraged and threatening howl Shouta had ever heard in his life. (y/n) took several steps away from him, and held her hands out at her sides, like she was being held at gunpoint “Oh my God, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Shouta grunted and wheezed out an “It’s fine, (l/n).” She shook her head.

“No, it isn’t. I was really stupid, and I hurt you. Are you alright? No wounds opened back up, right?” Shouta confirmed that he was in fact, still fine and that she didn’t need to keep asking. “No here. Let me make it up to you. I bet you can’t really cook while you’re all bandaged up, right? Why don’t you come over to my place, and I’ll make you some dinner or something…?” He thought about it. The night when he’d complained about her music, the smell of her cooking had been so enticing, he’d almost forgotten why he’d banged on her door in the first place. If he was being honest, he really wanted to know if her food tasted as good as it smelled.

“Alright. Just so long as you don’t subject me to your awful music.” (y/n) gave him the most genuine, disarming smile he’d seen in a long time. “What would you have me play instead, Present Mic’s screamo cover?” He chuckled. She was funny when she wasn’t trying to be outright malicious.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

(y/n) = your name

(l/n) = last name

Aizawa continued to eat meals with her for the next week and a half. It was rather awkward on Friday when Izuku joined them as well. After that night, they all agreed that the weekends should be family exclusive dinners. There must be nothing worse, (y/n) mused, than busying yourself with hiding peas in your mashed potatoes only to look across the table, and lock eyes with your homeroom teacher. Or to be absolutely inhaling a slab of steak like a god damn animal, and then pausing just long enough to realize that one of your students has been watching on in morbid fascination for the last minute and a half. Or at least, that’s what (y/n) assumed as she observed her two companions that evening.

(y/n) was really starting to like having the company around. She’d been in less friendly company in the past, and the sudden warm familiarity was refreshing.

On the other hand, Aizawa was really starting to appreciate her taste in music. The grooving melodies were not what he’d usually listen to on his own, but coupled with the sight of (y/n), singing along as she gracefully maneuvered her way around the kitchen just really gave him a new appreciation for the tunes. Especially when her hips swayed sensually to a chord in a way that made his eyes lock on to the movement.

A few times, he’d attempted to assist her with the cooking, but she’d always say something like: “Excuse me, but in this house, the mortally wounded do not help with the chores.” Or “Cripples are exempt from kitchen duty.” Before she would shoo him back out of the kitchen area. He scoffed. His wounds were still bandaged up, but he was doing a lot better than he had been a week ago. Honestly, at this point, the bandages were more of an excuse to keep eating such good food with a fun, pretty woman.

They still poked fun at each other all the time, but now it was more just friendly banter. All the previous venom had been removed from the playful barbs they tossed at each other.

Mochi seemed to warm up to him in a way that was surprisingly like how his owner had. The first few encounters were hostile, but after seeing Aizawa enough times, the beast slowly warmed up to him. Now, Aizawa was petting the cat with his non-mummied hand. “He’s a beautiful cat.” He said to (y/n). She twirled around to face him, placing a rice ball ion the counter. “I know, huh?” “What breed is he?” she smiled and started to cha-cha her way over to them, to a Spanish song she’d informed him was titled ‘Bamboleo’. “He’s a Maine Coon. You can tell because he’s so freakishly huge. Those suckers get big.” Aizawa scratched the cat behind his ears, which Mochi very much appreciated, as he began to rub his face all over the hand that was touching him. “who’s my guy, Moch?” (y/n) asked, as she leaned down and allowed her face to be in reaching distance of the cat. Mochi immediately shunned Aizawa, in favor of rubbing his face against (y/n)’s. “I’ve never seen a cat do that before,” Aizawa stated, surprised.

 (y/n) pulled back “Yeah, they don’t usually, because touching nose to nose really puts a kitty in a defenseless position. They only really do it when they whole-heartedly trust another animal.”

Huh. Aizawa thought.  

(y/n) extended a hand to Aizawa as the chorus of the song began to sound “Would you like to dance, you mummified Hot Topic model?”

Aizawa just sighed. “Just be careful with me, I’m a cripple, remember?”She smiled warmly as she carefully held onto the cast around his hand and began to lead him through the steps of a semi-salsa dance. “And where do you keep getting Hot Topic from?”

She gave an amused, closed mouth chuckle. “Have you seen your wardrobe, Pro-Hero? I don’t think you own a single shirt that’s got even the slightest bit of warm color on it.” She had so many nicknames for him at this point he stopped counting. Hot Topic, Cripple, Pro-Hero, she even called him ‘Stud’ once, but he’d questioned her on it, and she became so flushed and mortified that she never did it again.

All he’d ever called her was (l/n). If he tried calling her something else, he was sure she’d hound him about it for days.

She finished off their little dance by dipping him and laughing at his surprised expression. She pulled him back up before making her way back toward the kitchen. She paused to talk to him from over her shoulder. “Oh, dinner’s ready, by the way.” Her dancing was filled with passion and grace as the song began to descend into a big finish.

The Sports Festival was right around the corner, and Aizawa was confident that his students would do well. They’d done extraordinarily well against those villains, they could handle a sports festival, right? The only student that really had him worried was Midoriya. And not because he was afraid the kid would do poorly. No, it was because he was afraid the kid would push himself too hard. Over the course of the two months (y/n) had been his neighbor, he’d heard her fuss over all the breaks and bruises she discovered on Deku’s body through the thin wall that separated their apartments. It always sounded like it killed her a bit to see Midoriya injured, and if he got seriously injured because of an event or from his own quirk, Aizawa knew damn well (y/n) was going to talk his freaking ear off about it next time they ate together.

If he was being honest with himself, it also didn’t sit very well with Aizawa whenever (y/n) was upset about something. His stomach tied in knots whenever he saw her fret over anything. The reason why that would happen was still very much a mystery to him, though.

The day of the sports festival arrives, and Aizawa finds himself in the announcer stand with Yamada. In between the first and second event, Aizawa’s companion elbows him. “Ruh-roh.” The raven-haired male looked confused. “What?” Yamada motioned towards the door to the announcer’s booth. “Look at who’s sitting right next to us.” Sitting in a stadium seat directly outside the door was (y/n), and Mrs. Midoriya. It seems the two had come to cheer on their favorite up-and-coming hero. “Her being here isn’t gonna be a problem, right? As hot as she was when she was yelling at you, I don’t think it’d be appropriate for an announcer to start an argument with an audience member.” Aizawa hid his chuckle behind a forced cough. “No. There isn’t going to be an issue.” Yamada gave him a weird look but didn’t say anything else before he started to announce the next part of the festival.

For the next few minutes, he had trouble focusing on what was happening in the arena, as he kept sneaking glances at (y/n). Now that he knew that his good friend was here, mere yards away from him, he really wanted to walk out and greet her. He hadn’t seen her since dinner last Thursday, and even though he was supposedly seeing her for dinner tonight, he still felt the need to go converse with her. It wasn’t until she started cheering and bouncing up and down due to whatever was happening in the arena that he even bothered looking to see what was going on.

Down below, he saw Midoriya, fighting a kid with wild, purple hair. Now that kid has potential. “Hey. Midoriya’s opponent. What class is he in?” Yamada seemed to check the screens in front of him. “He’s in the general studies program, I think.” Now that can’t be right. Aizawa became determined to take that kid under his wing. Shinsou…I’ll remember that.

He’d forgotten all about (y/n) being in the stands directly across from him, right up until the battle between Bakugo and Uraraka. Right after Shouta finished hushing the crowd over their largely unneeded fuss, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. Whipping his head to the side, Shouta catches sight of what (y/n)’s doing. There’s a guardrail directly in front of her, and she’s leaning dangerously far over it. Her hands are cupped around her mouth, completely disregarding any sort of precaution for tipping over and falling into the stands below. He has the sudden urge to rush out and pull her away from the edge. To pull her to safety, and to keep her there. He’s pulled out of his thoughts by her distinct, feminine voice as she calls over the murmur of the crowd. “You’ve got ‘em right where you want him, Sweetheart!” Shouta turns to look back at the fight. God damn, she’s right. Several hundred tons of debris is currently floating above the arena, all prepared to fall directly onto Bakugo. Atta Girl. Aizawa thought, proudly.

After the Festival ended, and Bakugo had been announced the winner, Aizawa began to make his way over to wherever (y/n) was. She and her sister had gotten lost in the crowd during the closing ceremonies, but he was finally able to catch up with her. He found her, surrounded by Class 1A. They were like seagulls surrounding a bag of chips. “What about my performance, what did you think about mine?” Denki asked her with a blush dusting his cheeks. “Umm, honestly? I think the only fight I really witnessed you in was the one where Pinkie over there served you your own ass.” The rest of the class began to laugh as Denki pouted. God only knows how she ended up with all his students. Perhaps life just liked to punish him. As soon as he approached, Class 1A went quiet, the memory of the last time they saw the two adults converse still fresh in their minds. “(l/n). I see you’re still trying to steal my students from me.” She smirked. “Only the good ones. You can keep Mineta.” The boy in question seemed hurt, but in all fairness, he was attempting to peak up the woman’s skirt at the moment. “That doesn’t seem like a very fair compromise.” She seemed to give it a thought. “Mmm how about we share joint custody or something.” “Goodbye, (l/n).” She pouted a bit, before waving at the kids that surrounded her and saying “I need to go visit Deku in the nurse’s office anyway. Goodbye Kids!” she made her way past him, putting a hand on his shoulder, as she did so. “See you later tonight, Shouta.” And then she was gone, disappearing around the corner. He put on his best poker face for his students, all of whom seemed shell-shocked at the completely shifted dynamic between Deku’s aunt and the Pro Hero. “Alright, go change back into your uniforms for afternoon announcements. I’ll see you all back at the classroom.” As soon as the last one had disappeared into the locker rooms, he put his head in the hand that wasn’t all bandaged. What the hell was that? Everything about (y/n)’s last sentence was so… sensual. The implication of seeing him later, on top of her using his first name out of the blue… What the hell had she just done to him? Had she even meant to make his face feel this hot? Why was she doing this to him?

“Dude.” He heard a familiarly grating voice behind him “What the hell was that?”

Shouta sighed. “What do you mean, ‘what the hell was that’?” Yamada rushed to his side as Aizawa attempted to leave him behind. “Last time I saw you with that woman, you two were ready to rip each other’s throats out. Now you’re all: ‘I’ll see you tonight, Shota’” He permeated that statement with a smooth, high pitched impersonation or the woman they were currently talking about. “I mean really, every time I looked over at you today, you were undressing her with your eyes. What the hell happened? Please tell me you aren’t hate-fucking your neighbor. I called dibs on her, remember?” Aizawa had never, in his life, wanted to strangle anyone more than he wanted to strangle Present Mic.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but after what happened at the USJ, we found some solid ground. Since I’m a bit crippled now, she’s been making dinner for me on weeknights. She says she’s paying me back for getting her nephew out of the villain attack safely.” Yamada nodded along while Aizawa suddenly stopped and turned towards his companion.

“From what I remember from your last encounter with her, she wasn’t overly enthusiastic about your advances. I think calling ‘dibs’ on her is a bit creepy, as well as overly ambitious. Knock it off. You sound like a jackass.” Aizawa had continued walking after that, only to realize that Yamada hadn’t followed him. He looked back over his shoulder at his long-time friend, who was currently smirking at him from his position farther down the hall.

“Dude. You’ve got it bad.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

(y/n)= your name

(l/n) = last name

The bandages were finally off. Shouta no longer had an excuse to eat dinner with (y/n). So, where were they now? He figured he’d just go back to how things were before USJ. Somehow, that left him feeling empty. Yamada’s words from a few days ago echoed in his head ‘you’ve got it bad.’ The words repeated on a loop as he started up his rice cooker. He should start to hear (y/n)’s stereo soon. She hadn’t yet turned it on, but it was only a matter of time. Maybe he’d go on patrol tonight. It’s been a while, and he’s feeling up to it again. He’s about finished with dinner prep when there’s a knock at his door. Answering it, he sees (y/n) on the other side. “(l/n). What’s going on?”

She seemed a bit confused and hurt “Ah, yeah. I was about to ask you that. Are you not coming to dinner?” Behind him, she spied his rice cooker going, could smell the aroma of a meal that was just about done.

Oh. Duh. He’s healed now.

“Ah! That’s right, you’re all better! You don’t need me to cook for you anymore. Sorry. I was being silly. Enjoy your meal!” her cheeks were bright pink, and she kept her head down as she attempted to hurry back into her own apartment.

“(y/n), wait!” he heard himself call. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, as she turned to face him again “Would…you like to have dinner with me?”

She refused to meet his eyes, as she softly spoke: “yeah, alright.” Before she made her way back down the hall and into his kitchen.

 After that night, there were no more missed dinners between the two. Meals were always either in one home or the other, and they always shared the workload. Cooking side by side, sometimes in (y/n)’s warm apartment where she would dance around him like a graceful lunatic, and sometimes in his calm living space where they simply reveled in the comfort of each other’s quiet company. One thing (y/n) learned about two and a half months into her stay at the apartment complex was that Aizawa had friends other than her. It came as quite the shock.

Kayama was flirty and rambunctious, but she always gave plenty of warning before she would visit. Yamada, however, did not inform Shota of his visits and did not apologize for butting in on plans that were already in progress.

Yamada knocked on Aizawa’s door. When there was no answer, he knocked again, louder this time. The third time, he yelled as well “AY! Open up buddy, it’s me!” at that, the door a little further down the hall was opened, and Yamada began cleaning his glasses because he actually could not believe what he was seeing. There was (l/n). She was standing there, barefoot, with an apron draped over her clothes, and hovering behind her, was Shouta. Hair pulled up in a high ponytail, Carbon fiber scarf forgone. He looked presentable (well at least for Shouta) in a knit green sweater. The whole scene just seemed so… domestic. Not at all a scene he’d ever imagine seeing his old high school buddy in. “Umm. Present Mic? Are you looking for Shouta?” what the hell? He’d been best friends with the guy for years, and they still weren't on a first name basis. What made this girl so special? Dumbly, the blonde nodded and (y/n) gave him a sort of half smile “Would you like to join us for dinner?” again, he nodded without a word and began to walk into the girl’s apartment.

Before he got all the way inside, Aizawa stopped him “Don’t touch the cat.” That’s the only thing he said before he followed (y/n) back into the kitchen. Don’t touch the cat? Why the hell not? As he thought this, he locked eyes with a big ass cat. They stared each other down.

That’s a big bitch. Yamada thought. What’s up with the no touching thing?

Morbid curiosity alone drove him to approach and stick his hand out to pet the top of the feline’s head. Without warning, the little monster turned and bit him. Hard. “AHH! It bit me!” The volume of his voice had the cat skirting off into another room, presumably it’s owner’s bedroom, where it would not emerge again until both men had disappeared from the home.

“Yamada! What did I just say about the cat!”

“Awww poor Mochi~” (y/n) cooed. Poor Mochi? Poor Yamada’s hand! Why would that girl keep such an eldritch beast in her home? Before he had any more time to ponder it, music began to flow throughout the home as the guest rounded on the kitchen entrance. There, he saw Aizawa silently peeling potatoes into the sink while (l/n) shook a box of macaroni near his head like it was a maraca. Was this... a normal interaction for them?

Yamada rounded on Shouta when (y/n) wasn’t paying attention. “Okay, who are you and what did you do with my best friend?”  The man in question simply continued to peel potatoes but looked over with a withering look “The guy I grew up with would be in that other apartment right now, sulking, and mumbling about how loud his annoying neighbor is being. Are you haunted? I’m going to have to dip a scalding fork into your blood to see if you’re actually a body snatcher!”

A bag of frozen peas was suddenly tossed at the back of his head “Not with my silverware, you’re not!” (y/n) huffed, in a semi-joking tone that drew out a laugh from Aizawa. “Now if you’re gonna eat, you’re gonna help. Nuke those peas.” Grumbling, he did as he was told. About two minutes later, a song he actually enjoyed started to filter into the room.

(y/n) took her wooden spoon out from the macaroni she was currently stirring and began to sing into it like it was a microphone. She held her hand out to Aizawa. He took it with a small grin, and twirled her, she then turned it on him and had him do a spin before he returned to his spuds. This girl really must be something else if she can get Aizawa to come out of his shell a little. Yamada wondered briefly if she had some sort of persuasion quirk before he decided, ah what the hell. He’d join.

This was one of those golden moments. Shouta thought. As he watched Yamada and (y/n) dance around the kitchen, singing into the same wooden spoon. A moment that doesn’t seem like very much while you’re in it, but once you look back on it, it has a sort of warm glow surrounding it that just makes you feel fond. Fond of the moment. Fond of the people in it. Fond of the little things in the background. The smell of frozen peas and starchy macaroni is always going to make him happy now. In that one moment, for that one night, Aizawa found himself content.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

(y/n) = your name

(l/n) = last name

As the months went by, things between them settled into a platonic bliss. Neither one made overly flirty gestures. They simply found their comfort niche. At least, from their perspective. Yamada would always hound the two whenever he got one of them alone “When the hell are you guys going to drop the bullshit and just make out?” he would ask as he nudges Shouta “Never. Mind your business.”

“You can’t wait for him to make the first move, (y/n). If you want to further the relationship, you have to make a move.” (y/n) would groan or scoff at him “We’re friends, Hizashi. I’m not going to hit on Shouta.”

Both were stuck denying what seemed obvious to Yamada. They were pining after each other and were trapped in the pit of friendship. No matter how many times he offered a rope down to them, they refused to take it, preferring to stay trapped in the dark together.

One Friday, Yamada decided he was going to stop by and see what his friends were up to. Knocking on Shouta’s door, the man answered. Instead of seeing (y/n) in the kitchen behind him, he saw a delivery pizza on the counter. “Okay, what happened, where’s (y/n)? What did you do?” The man gave him an odd look.

“It’s Friday. Midoriya’s visiting his aunt for the weekend. We only do dinner together on weekdays.” Yamada relaxed at this. Thank God. He thought for a second Aizawa’s horrible personality might have finally chased the girl away, dooming the man to be alone forever.

“Ah. If she’s not here, then the two of us can talk shop!” The man who was currently eating a piece of pizza over his kitchen sink shot a look at his uninvited guest. “What?” “You know, how you’re going to sweep (y/n) off her feet.” Shouta let out a frustrated grunt. “For the last time, we aren’t going to get together.”

(y/n) and Izuku sat across from each other, digging into the mac and cheese casserole they’d made together. “So, how has your week been?” Deku beamed at her “Great! I got the internship I was hoping for!”

“You did? That’s awesome, Bud!” she was about to announce the raise she had earned recently when from the other side of the wall, she heard Shouta’s loud, angry voice

“Good Christ, Yamada! I don’t like (y/n)! All she and I are ever going to be are friends! Stop trying to push something that’s never going to happen!”  The dinner table was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

 “U-umm, Aunt (y/n)? You alright?” No, she wasn’t. She felt like if she hadn’t been sitting, she would have collapsed on the ground. Her hands were shaking slightly as they rested weakly on the table. “Yeah, I’m fine Kiddo. I’m just going to use the bathroom really quick.”

Izuku sheepishly pushed his fork around his plate, feeding a scalloped potato to Mochi when the cat begged for it. When (y/n) returned from the bathroom her eyes were ringed with red. “...Do you want to play some poker later?” Izuku threw out casually, hoping to get some sort of life out of her. “Not tonight Bud. I have a lot of work I need to catch up on. You’re welcome to watch some TV, I’m just going to tuck in early.” She began to collect the plates, and once the dishes were done she retreated to her bedroom like she’d promised and Izuku didn’t see her again until the next morning when he awoke to the smell of pancakes.

“Moning, Kiddo! Wanna learn how to drive today?” She was back to normal. Though, it seemed a bit forced that day.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

(y/n) = your name

(l/n) = last name

Something was wrong, and Aizawa knew it. He entered the apartment, and she’d already started cooking without him. The smell of a hot pot was prevalent throughout the house. Shouta was on his guard the minute he realized he couldn’t hear music. He leaned on the side of the counter trying to meet her eye. “Everything alright?” Her whole being was tense. She nodded, confirming she was fine. “I think you might be lying to me.”

Come on (y/n), you should know you can tell me what’s bothering you.

“So, what if I am?” she asked, venom laced in her voice.

“Hey, what’s up? I’m on your side, remember?” she stopped, mid-stir.

“Are you? Because sometimes, I have to wonder if you just like making me feel like an idiot.” She rounded on him now, poking at his chest, making him back up out of the kitchen. “ (l/n) (y/n), the quirkless runaway. Who could possibly see her as anything approaching romanceable! She’s damaged goods! Not even her own SISTER wanted her around.” Her voice was booming and vengeful as she shoved him again, leading him to the door. “If you’re just spending all this time with me out of pity, or some sense of obligation because I invited you over, then don’t bother. I don’t need your pity or your company!”

Aizawa was sent reeling. What was she talking about? “What? (y/n), when did I ever say any of this?”

she laughed. “Don’t you know how thin the walls are? Izuku and I both heard you, loud and clear. ‘Good Christ, Yamada, I don’t like (y/n)!’ Well maybe, ‘Pro Hero’ I don’t like you either! You always treat me like I’m breakable, and don’t deny it. I’ve noticed how you never let me handle the knives in the kitchen! I’m not naïve either, but no matter what I do or what I say, you always end up making me feel like a fool, and I’m sick of it. I want you, and your raccoon eyes, and your weird mummy scarf, and your homeless man scruff out of my God damn house!” Aizawa got mad right back

“(y/n), of course, you're breakable! You’re not Batman, you’re a 28-year-old bookworm who barely comes up to my chin! You’re a stubborn, quirkless little girl who thinks she’s the baddest bitch in the yard. Well, I’ve got news for you, Miss Bad Bitch, the reason I don’t let you do the kitchen jobs that involve blades is that you’re so busy dancing around like a lunatic that I’m afraid you’re going to cut a finger off! If anyone makes you look like an idiot, (l/n), it’s yourself.”

“Oh! So now I’m a now child, too? Are you going to buy child locks for the doors of my cleaning supply cabinet next? Maybe put bubble wrap on all the sharp edges in the house! I’m a grown. Ass. Woman. Shouta.” She permeated each word by poking him in the chest, rather harshly. “If I cut my hand off It’s my problem, not yours. Let me tell you, I’ve been dancing while holding sharp cooking tools since I was fifteen and Look!” She said in a false bewildered tone, wiggling all ten of her fingers in his face. “Still got all my digits! If I goof around while I’m completing a task, it’s because I know what I’m freaking doing. I’ve been tying my own shoes for decades, now. I don’t need a man to come into my life and take care of me the way you seem to think I do. You’re not my dad, Shouta, and you certainly aren’t my boyfriend. You made that abundantly clear.” The door was open, and she was shoving him out into the hall. “Oh, and you’re right. I’m not Batman. I’m Squirrel Girl, Motherfucker.”

The door is slammed right in his face, and he’s left dumbfounded. Had this all really been because she heard him say he didn’t like her? His face was hot, and he felt the anger and shame of a fresh argument boiling him from the inside out.

He could hear her, quietly crying from the other side of the door, and he couldn’t. He could not hear her cry. He wasn’t about to go waltzing back in and apologize just because she’s in there blubbering. She instigated the argument, not him. Growling, he stomps back into his apartment, finds his hero gear and leaves the space again. The way he slams the door behind him sounds like a gunshot, and he’s almost surprised he didn’t break it.  With one last look at (y/n)’s apartment door, he turns. Storming off down the two flights of stairs and into the night.

If she wanted to act like a stubborn child for no reason, she could be his guest.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

(y/n) = your name

(l/n) = last name

(Y/n) half expected him to knock on the door and apologize, at first. And damn it all, she would have accepted. She would have rushed right into his arms saying how sorry she was and how she didn’t mean any of it.

But he hadn’t. he’d grabbed something from his apartment and left the building. So instead, she stood up from her place on the hallway floor and continued to sob. She made her way back to her hot pot, which by now was bubbling over. The dish was ruined now, much like the only friendship she had.

God, I really screwed the pooch.

That night she decided to just forgo dinner, dumping the content of the pot into the garbage disposal. She dropped the pot back into the sink, leaving the cleanup for the next morning. Instead, she took a long hot shower until the steam ran out, and then she flopped face first on her bed. “Murrrow?” she felt the weight on her bed shift as Mochi made his way to her side. She turned to face him, clutching the big furry creature to her chest.

“Oh, Mochi. You’re the only man I’ll ever love.” “Mao.” She snuggled the cat and let the vibration of his purrs lull her to sleep.

Autumn began to wind its way down, and soon Izuku was beginning to prepare for finals. She helped him study the written as best she could, and even brought out her rusty Krav Maga lessons to spar with him a bit, though she really was no match for this kid. She was fifteen plus years out of practice, and he was studying to become a certified ass kicker.

Still, she wasn’t speaking to Shouta. She would try to start a conversation out in the hall sometimes, but he would just brush past her, completely ignoring her. Sometimes she’d do the same to him. She was acting just as immature as she had been when she left home all those years ago, and she knew it, and it just made her even more angry that he knew it, too.

Another month went by, and finals were over. During a training excursion, the villains had shown up again, this time making off with one of Izuku’s classmates. (Y/n) and Inko drove through the night just to pick him up from the cabin. When Izuku saw them, he rushed forward, enveloping his mom in a hug. (Y/n), being the tallest of the three of them, wrapped the both of them in her embrace, and buried her face into her nephew’s hair.

It was a God-awful thing to think, but the only thing that ran through (Y/n)’s mind that night was thanking god they took Bakugo and not Izuku. She honestly didn’t know what she’d do if he’d been taken.

She didn’t even look in Shouta’s general direction. Uraraka came over to give her a tearful hug, which (Y/n) accepted before leading her family back to their car.

Shouta moved out of his apartment when the next semester started. As a Teacher, the school had required him to move on campus. The whole thing brought a sense of finality to their falling out.

The new neighbor was a guy named Mitsuki, and he’d tried to be friendly with her, but she just couldn’t be friends with him. He was living in Shouta’s apartment like it wasn’t a big deal. He acted like he belonged there, but that space didn’t belong to him. At least, according to (Y/n) it didn’t.

Shouta wasn’t the only one who moved. Izuku was living on campus as well. Inko was taking the hit pretty hard. Several nights a week now, (Y/n) would visit her sister, and they’d do things. Make dinner, binge a show, go to a karaoke bar, anything to take their minds off the fact that the most important person in both of their lives was now living somewhere they couldn’t protect him.

Life went on. (Y/n) got a promotion at work, and with it, an assistant. Her name was Naomi and she was this terribly shy girl. She had such a talent for editor work, however. She could point out grammatical errors from a mile away, and she could speed read like a beast. She was hands down, the best co-worker (Y/n) had.

Then one day, out of the blue, Aizawa Shouta was back in her life, like he never even left.

Business as usual at the firm. (y/n) had left her office to scan a copy of a manuscript she was about to submit to publishing when out of the corner of her eye, she saw something. She whipped her head in that direction to see her assistant, being cornered by a man (y/n) didn’t recognize. His spiky brown hair was not a style she identified as any of her co-workers, and her assistant sure seemed rattled by him being there.

With a shaky breath, (y/n) approached. “Hey! Pincushion! Yeah, you. What the hell are you doing to my assistant?” She called, yanking Naomi behind her. The man met her piercing gaze that promised a swift kick in the ass with a calm demeanor. “Hello, Ma’am. No need to worry, I’m simply asking her where I can find one Miss (l/n).”

Naomi sensed the undertone of malice in the man’s voice and began to grip the back of (y/n)’s blazer, but the adrenaline rush had, unfortunately, gotten to her boss. “Well, you found her. What the fuck do you want?” The smile he gave her after that made her whole body feel like it was on ice. He talked into his cuff, and soon, a thick goo began to cover the building. Her co-workers watched on in horror as the dark purple substance covered every window on their floor.

“Oh, from you personally? Nothing. You’re just bait for Eraserhead.” Naomi screamed as the man’s limbs stretched and encircled (y/n) in a constricting hold. This was going on record as her third worst day of work.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

Aizawa was right in the middle of a lecture, God damn it. Yamada better have one hell of a reason for busting into the room the way he did.

“What the hell is it?” He asked the loud mouth, his tone anything but patient.

“Shouta…” What? What could possibly be so important? If Yamada was going to look at him with that sad look in his eyes, then at least spit it out and tell him what’s so bad about what he had to say. “Quills Publishing Firm is under attack right now.”

From where he was standing, he could see Mydoria, shifting nervously in his seat. He almost seemed like he was going to be sick. And Aizawa could understand why. He felt a little queasy himself. “So?” he responded coolly, “There are plenty of Pro Heroes around that aren’t teaching a class right now.” Yamada shook his head.

“Dude, send your students back to the dorms and meet me in the teachers’ lounge. There’s something we have to discuss.”

Shouta was getting rather impatient. “Well then let’s discuss it right here and now so I can get back to my class.” He snapped.

Yamada began to grow impatient as he hissed, “Shouta, what I have to tell you is going to seriously upset this whole class. Especially Midoriya. I get you’re a little cranky with me because of what happened with (l/n), but if you really care about her, or any of your students, for that matter, you’ll do as I say for once in your life.”

“…Mr. Yamada, is my aunt ok?” Deku asked shakily. Present Mic didn’t answer, he simply stared down his fellow hero as if his life depended on it.

 That pushed him over the edge. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Aizawa dismissed the class and followed his friend to the teacher’s lounge.

...

Several other staff members were currently sitting around a staff table. Nemuri, Yagi, even the principal. All eyes were on him. On the monitor on the far side of the room, they seemed to be in a video call, with a spiky-haired man.

“So, what’s going on?” Aizawa questioned, breaking the silence.

The man on the monitor smiled “What’s going on, is you’re going to come to Quills Publishing-alone- and turn yourself over to me and my boys, or I’m going to have some fun ruining something of yours.” Aizawa snorted. What could this man possibly have to hold over his head? The camera panned over, and soon Aizawa’s blood froze in his veins. Wrapped up in this man’s elastic quirk, was (y/n). She seemed pissed as all hell and worse for wear. However he’d gotten a hold of her, he’d had to struggle. Her pantyhose was ripped in several places, her hairstyle a complete mess, and her skirt had a rip that went all the way up the side of her leg. Any of those slimy little shits who laid even one finger on her was going to suffer. Aizawa swore it.

“You have quite a lot of enemies, Eraserhead, and this woman of yours is… very enticing. It’d be a shame if one of my boys decided to… take their anger out on her.” The man emphasized his point by elongating his tongue to lick (y/n)’s cheek in one long, lewd motion. The woman let out a breathless, disgusted whimper. Dead. That man was dead now, Shouta decided.

“Come and get her by the time she’d usually get home from work-you and I are both stalkers enough to know exactly what time that would be- and I’ll let her go. Unharmed. If you fail to do so or bring any form of backup, and I’ll take this syringe,” he said, holding up a light green liquid in a vial, “and inject it into her bloodstream. I do that, and her quirk vanishes. Your favorite little toy will be broken forever after that.”

  Aizawa did his absolute best not to outright mock this man. Clearly, he wasn’t as good at stalking as he seemed to think he was. “That’s quite the claim. What the hell is in the syringe, exactly?”

The man seemed a braggart. “Only the best quirk nullifying agent money can buy. We’re calling it the Eraserhead, and our sweet little Miss (l/n) here is the first customer of the finished product. Isn’t that just perfect?”

In the blink of an eye, (y/n) turned her head, and bit at the skin of her restraints. Her captor screeched and recoiled long enough for (y/n) to reach over a desk and smash the villain across the face with a nearby computer monitor. “You little-” before more could be shown, the video cut out, and everyone in the room was silent.

That absolute dumbass. Did she not understand when she was in over her head? Or did she really think she could bullshit her way out of every problem? If he showed up there, only to find out that her little stunt got her killed, he was going to find someone with a resurrection quirk to bring her back, just so he could kill her himself.

“Eraserhead,” All Might spoke up hesitantly “I don’t know your exact relationship with that woman, but if she truly is someone special to you, I think perhaps you should make the call on what to do.” Aizawa was grateful to the number one hero for bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Alright, what’s the status on the rest of the civilians?”

“They were all escorted out of the building safely. Seemed these people wanted as little liabilities as possible. Who the hell are they, do you know them?” Yamada asked

Shouta shook his head. He angered a lot of people in his career, they could be working for any number of organizations, or they could be completely brand new. These guys weren’t operating as normal villains do, it made him think. Maybe this was all a diversion for something they were doing somewhere else?

“I’ll take some of the heroes assembled in here to the firm to storm the building. The rest of the pros should be informed about possible villain activities elsewhere in the city. Set up a city-wide patrol. I have a feeling this is only a cover for something else.”

Nemuri objected “W-wait! What about your girlfriend’s quirk? If we go with you and just start attacking, won’t he take her quirk away? Are you really willing to do that to her just to get her back?”

Aizawa broke his composure at her comment. Laughing. Absolutely guffawing. “That drug’s not going to do anything to her. She’ll be fine so long as she keeps her mouth shut. Trust me.”

...

The whole time he spent making his way over to the firm, he thought about (y/n). Part of him wondered why the hell he was even helping her when she clearly didn’t want him to.

Another part of him was running through every single memory he had of her.

 He saw her cold, angry expression the night they fought. “You’re not my dad, Shouta, and you’re certainly not my boyfriend.”

And leaning over the railing at the Sports Festival, “You got ‘em right where you want him, Sweetheart!”

And salsa dancing in her living room, “Have you seen your wardrobe, Pro Hero?”

And Shouta taking her hand to twirl her around the kitchen, and her picking up her humongous cat that just let her do whatever she wanted with him, and her stirring a pot of tomato sauce in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and boy shorts as she read a manuscript for work, her reading glasses sliding down her nose, and so many other instances of her. He saw them all.

He cracked when he remembered how she looked the night they started having dinners together. “I think the world of you, Aizawa Shouta”

He was going to get her back, damn it all. And when he did, he wasn’t going to let her go again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

(y/n) fought her hardest, and still, she couldn’t do anything. She could pretend to be as independent as she wanted, but the truth was, without a quirk, she was pretty much stuck having to depend on someone else.

Or maybe not. She thought to herself, deciding to take a page out of Mochi’s book, she whipped her head around and bit down on the arm of her captor. Hard. He let out an enraged howl, but she was free just long enough to grab a monitor and smack him across the face. She used the state of shock the rest of this freak’s goons were in to make her escape. “You little bitch!” she heard from behind her, but she was already booking it down the hall, her heels clicking on the linoleum.

Quick, (l/n). Think. They’re going to hear your shoes, but if you take them off, your pantyhose is going to make it difficult to run.

Fuck it.

She ducked around a corner, tossing her shoes in the opposite direction of where she planned on heading and ripped her pantyhose so that her bare feet were exposed. From there, she began to make her escape.

Her first thought was the fire exit, but the minute she opened the door, the alarm started to sound. Furthermore, the purple goo was blocking her escape.

“This way!” she heard an angry voice somewhere close by.

Shit shit shit!

In a panic, she rushed into a nearby janitor’s closet, looking around to try and find something to defend herself with. She found something better.

Prying open the vent in the closet, she squeezed her way inside, utterly relieved that her company had sprung for the extra wide vents. She did her best to maneuver around as stealthily as possible. Before too long, she heard voices somewhere beyond the nearest vent opening.

“We sealed all the exits, she can’t have gone very far.” She edged closer to the opening to try and peak out.

“Relax, boys. We don’t really need to have the girl. All we need to do is make Eraser think we have her. He’ll be dead long before he ever actually gets to her.” She couldn’t help the audible gasp that left her body.

Every goon in the room paused. Pincushion gave a nasty grin “Boys, I think we have a mouse lose in the vents.” Before she could react, one of the goon’s arm shifted into a long sharp blade, and cut open the vent, dragging her out and onto the floor.

(y/n) struggled and kicked and screamed bloody murder, but it didn’t do much good. Before she knew it, she was right back where she started.

“Where did you think you were going to go, Sweetheart?” The spikey haired villain cooed at her. 

“Sweden.” She retorted dryly.

“I don’t think you fully understand your position at the moment.” The villain grabbed her by the throat and began to yank her to her feet. “I can take away everything that makes you unique in a matter of seconds. All it takes is one little prick and poof. You’re damaged goods.”

(y/n) laughed. “I’ve never been prone to falling for scare tactics, Pal.” She was smacked across the face so abruptly that she bit down on her tongue “I hope you enjoy living without a quirk, you prim little slut.”

(y/n) spat blood into her captor’s face “Quirk Smirk.” She said it with such finality and pure aloofness that the Villain almost lost his composure. He was going to kill Eraserhead, and then he was going to snap this insolent brat’s neck like a twig.

...

Eraserhead made his way to the front entrance

Alright, how does he get inside? The entirety of the building was covered in a thick purple goo.

What even was that stuff? “Huh.” All Might said from beside him. “What, got an idea what this stuff is?”

The number one hero stroked his chin “It’s a hunch, but I think I fought someone with a similar ability once. That goo might actually be the quirk user.”

Aizawa sighed. “Well, there’s only one way to find out for sure, huh?

With that, the Pro Hero activated his quirk.

Tendrils of long black hair began to float in the air as his eyes glowed a bright red. Just as Yagi had predicted, the goo began to recede. First slowly, then all at once. The rescue squad, which consisted of Eraserhead, All Might, Midnight and Present Mic made their way into the building.

“Hey, anyone get the feeling that might have been a little too easy?” Yamada said hesitantly.

Shouta shrugged. “Well, these men do intend for me to enter the building, so they can kill me, they aren’t going to lock me out, now are they?”

As soon as they took one step into the lobby, they were attacked. Three or four men ran into the room, ready to fight. Midnight activated her quirk, as she rushed to engage, “Shouta, go! Find that cute little girlfriend of yours and give her a kiss for me. We’ll hold them off.” The rest of the team sprang into action.

Aizawa silently thanked them before he rushed off further into the building. He’d only ever been here once before, when (y/n) had to pick up a manuscript she’d left on her desk. Considering what a cocky bastard this villain seemed to be, Aizawa guessed he must be hiding out in (y/n)’s office. He burst through the door to the stairwell, using the tendrils of his scarf to scale the stairs to the fourth floor.

Shouta found them exactly where he’d expected. (y/n) was standing up, her entire body from her chest to her knees was wrapped tightly in the elastic arm of her captor. Her mouth had been covered to prevent any further biting. She struggled against the restraints when she caught sight of him

Wiggling and letting out muffled screams. “You’re really bad at following instructions, Eraser.” In his free hand, the man held up the used syringe. A quick glance at (y/n) confirmed that she had a bead of blood running down her neck from a small puncture wound.

“Shit. I’m sorry, (y/n).” Aizawa apologized. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this, and I’m sorry for acting like such an ass these past few months. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

With that, Eraserhead focused on his combatant and activated his quirk. Immediately, (y/n) was free. She collapsed on the floor, her limbs had given out some time ago “Shouta, be careful. He has a second dose on him.” With that, she crawled under her desk and for once, conceded that she wouldn’t be able to do anything that could help with this.

Shouta’s scarf lashed out towards his target as they charged and used their momentum to launch them through the doorway into the main room of the floor. From then on, it was a scuffle. Fists and kicks were exchanged, as Shouta’s eyes began to burn from the use of his quirk. No matter how much it stung, he wasn’t about to release it. Sure enough, at some point during the fight, the elastic man pulled a second syringe out of his coat pocket and made a mad dash for Eraser.

The hero dodged out of the way, kicking the drug out of the man’s hand. It went skidding to the floor, coming to a stop right outside (y/n)’s office.

“How does it feel, Eraserhead, knowing that you’re the reason that someone important to you no longer has their quirk? The one thing that made that girl unique, was stripped from her because of your actions.”

“You know, I wasn’t going to say anything, because I just hated the thought of bursting your bubble. However, you’re dead wrong about (y/n). There are a lot of things about her that are unique. She’s strong, and confident” he grunted, as a punch was delivered to his stomach “she’s a fantastic dancer, and an even better cook, not to mention how handy she is with a wrench.”

Eraser barely escaped getting hooked in the face “Well, aren’t you just a sap in love.”

Aizawa chuckled. “Yeah, that may be. But there’s one more thing you don’t know about her that’s pretty special.”

“And what would that be?” The sickening crunch of a broken nose was heard, and the villain pulled back, clutching his face,

“(y/n) was born quirkless.” Aizawa taunted with a grin

In a fit of rage, the spiky-haired man rushed forward, knocking Aizawa to the ground. His eyes closed, and his quirked dropped. Fuck. Now his eyes felt like fire and his ears were ringing. This whole thing was such a pain.

The elastic man took this chance to wrap his arm tightly around Aizawa’s neck.

Choking. He was choking to death. He struggled to re-activate his quirk, but his eyes were just too dry to keep open. This was it. He’d failed. He was slipping…darkness… encroaching.

All at once, air rushed back into his lungs. He shot up and looked around. His eyes locked on (y/n), who was backing away from their attacker, an empty syringe lodged in his shoulder.

“W-what did you do to me?”

“I gave you a taste of your own medicine…literally. Needles pinch like a bitch, am I right?”

He lunged at her, and she mannaged to parry his attack, landing a blow to his stomach. The man doubled over in pain, and she attempted to deliver an uppercut to his jaw, but he caught her arm, and twisted it, bringing the fierce woman to her knees. “You have no idea how much satisfaction breaking your arm is going to give me.”

Shouta took the moment of distraction, and his scarf wrapped around the man’s body in several places. Shouta launched him out the window, and onto the street below. A dull, thud sounded with the silence of finality following soon after. (y/n) let out a sigh of relief, as she slowly, got to her feet. Her Blazer was dusty, her skirt would need to be sewn, her good pantyhose was ruined, and she had absolutely no idea where her shoes ended up, but she was alive.

She took some time to collect herself before she felt strong hands close protectively over her arms.

(y/n)’s eyes opened to see Shouta, looking her up and down, taking in every bruise every smudge of grime and every tear he could find. “Are you alright? Nothing broken?”

She nodded “Still in one piece.”

“Good.” He pinched her cheek, pulling her face closer to his

“Ow! Ow! Ow! What the hell, Man?”

“I could say the same to you. What were you thinking retaliating like that? He could have killed you after you hit him with a freaking computer!”

She reached for his hand, struggling to pry his finger off the meat of her cheek.

“You heard him, he wanted to hurt you by injecting me with that quirk erasing serum. Why waste all that money, and expose the ace in the hole if he was just going to kill me whenever he felt like it? Besides, what was he going to do? Erase the quirk I don’t have?”

He had to admit, she had a pretty good point.

She had a lot more common sense than he gave her credit for.

He released her cheek, choosing to stroke the side of her face instead. “Why were we even fighting in the first place?” Shouta asked in a tired tone.

(y/n) shook her head “I…I don’t know, I’m sorry.” She whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching him to her body. He returned the gesture, with one arm around her waist, and the other in her hair. He kissed the side of her head, breathing her in. “I’m sorry, too.”

“We’re idiots.” (y/n) sighed, nuzzling into his neck.

“Yeah.” They pulled back to look at each other again. Both were a little worse for wear. (y/n) lifted up Shouta’s goggles to reveal his eyes underneath. “Woa! You look like you just smoked ten pounds of weed!”

He pressed his palm into her cheek, shoving her face away, “Shut up.” but he was smiling just as much as she was. She grabbed his hand from her face, and moved it to the side, leaning in to close the gap between them.

As their lips collided, it was like a switch flipped. They grabbed at each other, desperate, and loving. The two just couldn’t get close enough. (y/n) threaded her fingers into his hair It’s so soft. She thought idly before she was lifted off her feet and spun in a circle. She laughed into the kiss, which spurred chuckles out of her partner. This was a joyous reunion.

“Finally! God damn!”

The two broke apart, turning to face the voice coming from a little way down the hall. Yamada was bleeding from a scratch on his cheek but otherwise seemed mostly unscathed. He gave them a sarcastic round of applause as he approached.

“Ross and Rachel took less time to sort out their shit than you two did.”

“Hizashi…. go away,” Shouta said flatly, still holding (y/n) so her feet dangled a little way off the ground.

“Believe me, I would, but the chief of police is looking for statements on account of the guy who took a four-story nose dive out a window.”

Ah. Yeah. That.

(y/n) wiggled a bit to get out of his hold, and he gently set her back down on the ground. She whistled as she took a look around the disheveled office space. “Boy, is my ass getting fired.”

Shouta chuckled, and lead her out towards the stairs, following Present Mic.

“Hey, Hizashi, you didn’t happen to find my shoes on your way up here, did you?

“…You fist-fought a supervillain with bare feet?”

She supposed she could take that as a ‘no.’

“Alright. Thanks anyways, Mic.”

Chapter Text

Epilogue

 it turned out that no the villains weren’t a cover for anything nefarious. They were merely overly ambitious amateurs looking to make a name for themselves by taking out the elusive vigilante. Safe to say, their downfall was their own hubris.

As for (y/n), she didn’t end up getting fired. It was, however, subtly suggested by her boss that she do unpaid overtime work for a while to make up for all the damages. On top of all that, her car’s engine had fallen right out of the vehicle. Luckily it was parked at the time, but it did mean she was forced to walk home from work every night until she got around to buying a new one.

Our heroine walked along the quiet stretch of storefront for half a block before she paused and turned to look behind her. “You know, you could just walk next to me instead of lagging behind like a creep.” Shouta emerged from the shadows and approached, reaching down to grab her hand. “You’re less of a target to supervillains if you’re not seen walking around with a Hero.” He explained, kissing her knuckles.

She gave him a withering look. “You did not seriously just tell me that a woman walking alone at night in heels is less of a target than one walking beside a fully decked out ass-kicker.”

“That’s a fair point.” He squeezed her hand in his before continuing to walk beside her.

“So, this is where you always went directly after dinner was over. You patrolled the city at night. No wonder you were falling asleep at five in the afternoon.”

He hummed along. “I would have stayed, but I wasn’t sure I was welcome to stay any longer after dinner was over.”

“You’re always welcome to stay longer.” (y/n) assured him.

“I’ll have to remember to take you up on that.” He chuckled lowly, and the sound sent delightful shivers up (y/n)’s back.

She sighed. “I kind of miss living so close to you. We don’t get to spend as much time together as we used to.”

“… We could always just live together.”

(y/n) paused mid-step. “Was that a serious offer?”

He shrugged. “If you want it to be.”

They faced each other, and she looked deep into his eyes, trying to flesh out if there was any mirth in his gaze at all. Finding none, she smiled and poked the tip of his nose. “I’m not saying never, but I think we should give it a bit more time. Besides, I haven’t even seen what your apartment at U.A looks like. I’m not about to just move in blindly.”

He took advantage of the position they were in to encircle her in his arms and pull her flush against his chest. “Would you like to see it now?” he leaned down, brushing his nose against hers before sealing their lips together. Soft and sweet, it was over after only a second, but it still left her breathless.

“Lead the way, Stud.”