Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The museum is a grand building, from the marble floors of the atrium to the soaring glass ceiling above, and is usually hushed with the echoing reverence you find in galleries and the like. Today, though, voices and bodies fill the large space with excitement as the crowds pour in to visit the special, limited-time “Heroes Through the Ages” exhibition.

Squeezing past an enormous, dazzlingly cheerful statue of All Might, you manage to rejoin your group where they are waiting impatiently near the cloakroom. The children have been looking forward to this trip for weeks, and their faces are wreathed in smiles as you approach, waving colourful entry tickets in your hand. Day trips are such a drain for the home's limited resources that experiences like this are rare; you have been a junior support worker at the children's home for two years now, and this is the first time you've been able to bring everyone to something so popular, so you find yourself grinning just as widely as the children.

"Alright everyone, I've got the tickets. Now, who wants to go learn about heroes?" you say, and flap the tickets wildly as the kids all clamor for your attention. You share an amused glance with your colleagues, both wearing large backpacks full of snacks and the various miscellanies that children might need. Ueno, a sturdily built, cheerful woman, and Inaba, a slender man with a laidback smile, are both older and more senior than you, but they are probably your favourite colleagues, and you are immensely pleased to be on the trip with them.

After a lot of chattering, hopping about, and one mini tantrum, swiftly quashed by Ueno’s no-nonsense attitude, you finally get the children holding hands in pairs, and you are off to explore.

The main exhibit is being held in a large, airy room, and the second you step in, you are assaulted by a whirlwind of bright costumes, holograms, and interactive displays that have the children crowing with glee. After a quick conversation, you agree to break into three smaller groups, as navigating the bustling space would be impossible all together. The others are swept away into the swirl of the crowd, and you look down at your group. You are in charge of four children, ranging from 4 to 9 years old, and despite their disparity in age and personality, they all have the same gleam in their eyes as you stand to attention in front of them.

"Okay, troops! Where to first?"

~

You pass a happy couple of hours wandering the displays and showcases, before taking a break when the smaller children start to flag. The museum has a huge inner courtyard, filled to the brim with sunlight and weary visitors, and you situate your small group along the concrete edge of the large, splashing fountain, glad to find a rare seat in the crowded area to rest your hot feet. The children chatter animatedly, recounting their favourite sights as you hand out snacks and drinks of water.

You are in the middle of sharing out some dried apricots when a shriek rips through the air, and everyone falls still.

Reacting without thought, you are on your feet in an instant, standing in front of the children and snapping at them to stay behind you. Your gaze follows several pointed fingers up to the balcony that wraps around the courtyard, and cold horror fills the pit of your stomach.

A dark figure is crouched on the balcony railing, face shrouded in a hood of dark cloth, and framed by a writhing mass of tentacles bursting from its body. The sudden silence is shattered by a malevolent laugh, and before anyone can react, several tentacles dart forward, coiling around civilians and pulling their struggling bodies into the air, where they dangle helplessly, shrieking and flailing.

The courtyard is in instant chaos as people stampede to the exits, screaming and pushing. It is barely a moment before there are fresh cries of terror from the front of the crowd as more tentacles whip forward and slam the doors shut, piling against the exit in mounds of suckers and black flesh.

Choking back your own scream, you stumble backwards, hands reaching to gather your charges behind you. Fingers clutch at the hem of your shirt, and you feel the childrens' small, warm bodies pressing against you. Other than a faint whimpering, the children are silent, frozen with the same horror that fills your throat.

"Don't bother thinking you're going anywhere." The voice is dark, hissing and scathing, and somehow fills the room, even over the noise of panic and terror. "Look at you all, crawling and scattering like ants, just disgusting."

Every face turns towards the villain, screams dying down until the courtyard is once again silent and still, except for the frightened victims still dangling from tentacles in the air. You stand frozen, captivated by your own fear. There is a woman wrapped in a tentacle not 10 feet away from you, and you can see the whites of her eyes as she thrashes her head in its fleshy constraints. One of her shoes has slipped off her foot.

"Filthy creatures, all of you, swarming over the city with your sycophantic hero worship. You claim that villains are evil, but look at you all, blindly following your corrupt gods, throwing money and fame at them like they mean something, while the rest of us live in the dark-"

As the villain spits its accusations, you catch a whisper of movement in the corner of your eye, and see the figure of a man creeping along the balcony towards the villain. You can't see him properly from this distance, but there is only one kind of person who would approach a villain with such determined body language - a hero. Hope bubbles up in your chest, and your mind races with possible outcomes. One of the children whimpers into your leg, feeling you tense up, and you pat blindly at a shoulder with shaky fingers, not moving your eyes from the scene above you.

Even as you watch the hero, the villain hasn't stopped talking. "You have spoiled society, ruined the world for its children, and I will punish you for it," it snarls, and you realise with a shock of panic that the monologue is over, and the hero hasn't got there yet.

Any second now, the villain will stop talking and will see that the hero is there. We just need a little more time, you think desperately, just a little more distraction. Your heartbeat hammers in your throat.

Your feet are moving before you register what you are doing. You thrust the children away from you, whisper at them to stay together and stay where they are, then you’re stepping forward, moving into the open space in front of the balcony, and glare up at the villain.

“You’re wrong,” you say, barely a hoarse whisper, and grit your teeth in an abrupt bout of indignant rage. The next time the words come out stronger. “You’re wrong!”

The villain pauses, and then that hooded face turns down to regard you, the weight of the invisible gaze making sweat prickle out on your scalp. “What did you say to me?”

“I said you’re wrong,” you say again, and your voice is firm this time, ringing out in the courtyard. Suddenly you feel strength pouring into your limbs, fuelled by adrenaline and defiance as you glare up at the villain. “How dare you come here, attack innocent people, and blame it on us. You are the one choosing to wreak havoc and fear on people who are just trying to live their lives. You say that we are ruining society by following heroes, but the only one in this room who is ruining anything right now is you!” Your hand shakes with fury and fear as you fling an arm out, motioning at the families around the room, the small huddle of your children by the fountain. “I brought children here, children who are disadvantaged in life already, fighting to have a chance at a normal, happy childhood, and you are the one ruining their small piece of joy. How dare you? If you want to fix society, try working with it, not shredding it to pieces out of spite!”

You finally run out of words, panting with the full force of your tirade. You hadn’t known that anger was in you until it spilled forth, but every word had felt right as you spat them out. Hiding your trembling fingers by clenching them into fists, you glare up at the villain, willing your feet to stay planted where they are and not flee back to the children.

Nobody in the courtyard speaks, barely even breathes, all waiting and watching as the villain stares down at you. A shudder runs through the hooded figure, then down those black tentacles, and you hear a deep inhale, but before they can say anything, there is a flash of movement, and the figure of the hero is there, arcs of green lightning flashing along his limbs. He lunges forward, fist whipping out in a neat, staccato punch, and the villain's body is crumpling, head lolling backwards.

Tentacles start to wilt and shrink, but before you have a chance to panic about the people held up in the air, the hero is darting around the courtyard, a green blur of movements too fast to track with your fear-dazed eyes. Even as the tentacles retract back into the dark body, he is laying civilians carefully on the floor, safely out of the villain's reach. Then, with a powerful burst of energy, he leaps back up to the balcony, leaning out of your range of vision as he bends over the villain.

A second passes as you stand motionless, and then the realisation comes crashing down on you - the villain has been defeated. You are safe. Letting out a choked sob of relief, you whirl and sprint back to the children, crashing to your knees and flinging your arms around the huddle of their bodies. All of you cling together, shaking and crying in the aftermath of terror. Somehow, after a moment, you find the inner strength to pull back and start reassuring them, wiping tears and speaking to them as soothingly as you can, encouraging them to hug each other for comfort.

The next hour goes in a blur. The hero stands guard on the balcony until the police arrive, flooding into the building and removing the villain’s limp body. They take your name and contact details, and a brief statement, with a promise that they will call if they need more detail. Civilians are escorted to waiting ambulances to be treated. By some miracle, you don’t think anyone was seriously hurt, but there are plenty enough bruises and minor injuries from the tentacles’ squeezing and the panicked crowd pushing to leave.

Eventually, you are able to leave the courtyard to find the rest of your group, and Ueno and Inaba squeeze you into tight hugs, worry and relief stark on their faces. The children mingle together in a mass of questions and tears, but you hear at least one small voice begin a dramatic retelling of the ordeal, and you know they will be okay; these kids are resilient.

You are standing on your own by a water fountain, taking small sips of water in a stolen moment of quiet, when you feel a presence behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you see a man standing there, hand raised as if to tap you on the shoulder. His eyes widen when he sees that you have noticed him, and he pulls his hand back swiftly with a sheepish look. He’s wearing an All Might themed hoodie, the hood pulled up over his head, and seems somehow familiar to you. It’s hard to tell, but you think he is about your age, certainly in his twenties, and his cheeks are scattered with an endearing number of freckles.

“Uh, hi!” He says, and his smile is bright and warm. His green eyes look vaguely familiar to you, though you can’t place where from. “That was you, right, back in the courtyard? You were the one who spoke to Cthulhu - I mean, the villain?”

“Yes?” You say uncertainly, and then your eyes shoot wide. “You - were you the one who - the hero?”

The man beams at you with a nod, and holds his hand out to you again, this time for a handshake. “I’m Deku!”

You’re already shaking his hand before your jaw drops open as his words process through your brain. “Deku? As in, Pro Hero Deku? As in, the Symbol of Peace and All Might’s successor, Deku?!”

Deku’s warm hand squeezes yours gently before he lets go, and he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck at your sudden, starstruck reaction. “Um, yep, guilty as charged!”

You stare at him for a moment, and you know the silence is probably stretching into awkwardness, but your mind has been overloaded by the fact that you are currently talking to one of the most famous heroes in Japan, and you hadn’t even realised who he was. Granted, you‘d never really seen him out of his iconic costume, but it was still pretty embarrassing.

“Hi,” you croak eventually. You manage to gain your wits enough to give him your name, and then you drop into a small bow as you begin to thank him for saving everyone.

“Ah, no, please!” Deku says, waving his hands in front of you, and looking relieved when you straighten up. “Actually, I wanted to come and thank you. Your courage to stand up and challenge the villain in that moment gave me the perfect opening to take him out without anyone getting hurt. What made you speak out like that?”

You take a sip of water, grateful for the distraction to regain your composure. “I could see you on the balcony, and I figured that you were a hero, but I got so scared when I thought that you had run out of time, and then my feet were moving and it just kind of happened before I realised it.”

Deku’s eyes widen slightly, and then crinkle as he beams at you. Your breath actually catches at the sheer blinding force of his smile. “Spoken like a true hero!”

You laugh ruefully. “Actually, I wasn’t very heroic, I was mostly just furious. I work in a children’s home, and this is one of the only day trips we’ve made this year, and that villain was ruining it for them, and spouting all that rubbish.”

“Ah, that’s what you meant when you were referring to disadvantaged children?” Deku asks, and presses his lips together in a thin line when you nod. “No wonder you-“

He is cut off when someone calls his name, and you both turn to see a police officer waving him over, standing next to a group of what looks like the press, bristling with cameras and microphones.

“Duty calls, I guess,” Deku says with an almost inaudible sigh, and you nod, already feeling guilty for taking up so much of his time. “It was so nice to meet you, and please, be careful with yourself. Goodness knows villains need telling off sometimes, but that’s what us heroes are for, huh? Don’t get yourself in any more danger!”

“Right,” you agree with a huff of laughter. “It was so nice meeting you too, Deku. Thank you again.”

Deku shakes his head with a smile, waving your thanks away politely, and then turns to leave. He gets a couple of steps away before you see him stop, his back straightening suddenly. He rummages in one pocket, and then whirls back to face you, and you are surprised by the look of determination on his face.

Returning to you, Deku quickly takes your hand and presses something into it before you can even react. “Um, please, if you need anything, big or small, or just want to talk about today or something, whatever, please just call me. I really mean it, don’t be afraid to call, okay?” He holds your gaze intently for a moment, green eyes serious on yours, and then bobs his head and is gone, striding in the direction of the police officer and pulling his hood back to reveal a mass of curly green hair.

Struck dumb, you open your fingers to see what he had given you. It’s a stiff business card, brightly embossed with All Might artwork on the back, and neat lettering on the front. 'Deku | Midoriya Izuku', it reads, and printed underneath is a mobile number. Your breath catches in your chest, and you can’t help the incredulous laugh that escapes you. Deku, the number one hero in Japan, has just given you his personal contact details.

~

You hold onto the business card closely for a few days, carrying it in your pocket, in your bag, even tucked into your phone case. You can't count the number of times you have pulled it out, stared at the simple writing, and then put it away again. The card begins to look a little ragged, dog-eared on the corners, but that doesn't stop you from holding it, flipping it between your fingers thoughtlessly.

There is no reason for you to contact Deku - you don't need his help, and realistically you'd barely even had a full conversation with him; he probably wouldn't even remember you out of the countless civilians he must meet every day. Yet you can't deny the lure of it, knowing that you held a direct line to one of the most powerful heroes in Japan in your hands. It doesn't help that he'd seemed so kind that day, so warm and approachable.

There is a small voice in your head that says maybe he wants you to call - why else would he have given you his personal number? He has no obligation to you, and surely anything related to the villain could be directed through his agency. You smush the voice down mercilessly every time it speaks, but it always comes back to niggle at you.

Eventually, it is the children who make a decision for you. It’s five days after the museum trip, and you’re working an evening shift at the home. Most of the children are already asleep, and you busy yourself with tidying up the playroom while it is empty, the other staff taking care of paperwork and chores elsewhere. You're halfway through scraping some playdough out of the carpet when a plaintive wail sounds from one of the bedrooms. Wiping your hands haphazardly on your cleaning apron, you hurry upstairs, following the sound of muffled crying.

Finding the source of the cries, you knock gently on the bedroom door before pushing it open. The room is dark, but light spills in from the hallway behind you, and you see a small, quivering bundle of covers on the bed.

"Yuki?” You call softly, picking your way across a minefield of action figures and Legos to approach the bed. “It's just me, petal. What’s wrong?”

The bundle on the bed trembles anew, and a small face peeps through a gap in the covers. Yuki’s chubby cheeks are flushed and damp with tears, and your heart squeezes convulsively. Yuki is a tow-headed boy of four, who normally rampages around the home like an energetic whirlwind. He’s a fearless child, and it’s rare for him to have nightmares, so seeing him this upset is somewhat of a shock. Schooling your face into calmness, you promptly sit on the bed and haul the whole bundle of child-and-bed-clothes into your lap, wrapping your arms around the warm mass.

“There we go,” you murmur, and then let out a soft ‘oof’ as Yuki’s head suddenly rams into your chest, pushing his tear-stained face into you with another little sob. “Was it a bad dream?” You feel the jerky nod more than see it, and rub Yuki’s back in response. “It’s alright now, you’re awake and I’m here. The nightmare is all gone, now. You’re such a brave boy.”

You continue to murmur soft, meaningless words until Yuki’s hitched breaths seem to calm, and he isn’t pressing against you quite so violently. Eventually he pulls back a little, peering up at you with bleary eyes, and you smile down at him through the darkness of the room.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, making sure to keep your reassuring hold on him so he doesn’t slip away - it isn’t unusual for Yuki to deny himself the comfort of an adult when he needs it. He’s such a stubborn, brave little thing.

Yuki bites his lip a little before he whispers, “It was the bad guy.”

“The bad guy?” You keep your voice light and neutral, but your heart sinks; you think you know where this is going.

“Mhm, the bad guy, y’know, with the octopus legs? He came back.” Yuki says, the corners of his mouth pulling down, and your fears are realised - he’s had a nightmare about the villain from the museum.

You’d been plagued by some nightmares yourself, waking shivering in the night with the image of a dark hooded figure fixed in your mind, and cold sweat soaking your sheets, but you had hoped that the children had escaped mostly unscathed. They talked about the day at the museum a lot, and their voices were always excited with the drama of the retelling, but clearly your hopes that they remembered it as just an exciting adventure were unfounded. A sigh escapes you before you can hold it back, and Yuki looks up at you questioningly.

“Yeah, he was scary, wasn’t he?” You say, and Yuki nods fervently. “But you remember something else from that day, don’t you Yuki?”

Yuki frowns. “‘Member what?”

Taking his little face in your hands and rubbing at the tear tracks with your thumbs, you lean in conspiratorially. “Remember that we were saved by Deku, of course! Wasn’t he super cool?” Yuki’s eyes light up, and you grin at him. “With all that cool green lightning around his body, and he was so fast, right?”

“Yeah! Like nyoom, kachow!” Yuki crows, pumping his little fist, and you know you’ve brought him back from the edge of fear.

The two of you talk some more about what a cool hero Deku is, and all the while you stroke Yuki’s tufty dark hair until you see his eyes growing heavy, and his words are alternated with yawns. You tuck him back into bed with promises to leave a nightlight on, and creep out of the room.

As soon as you get downstairs, you are moving purposefully, all indecision shattered by Yuki’s fear. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you rummage in your bag until you pull out Deku’s tattered business card. You don’t stop to stare at it this time, and type the digits of his number into your phone without hesitation. If the children are still being scared by that villain, then you will stop at nothing to make them feel safe again.

You figure it is probably too late to politely make a phone call, so instead you sit in the kitchen, listening to the soft rumbling of the dishwasher, and draft up a text. The words get deleted and rewritten several times over, and you can feel your face pinching into a frown, but eventually you settle on a message and hit send before you can think about it any further.

You [8:15pm]
Hello Deku, I hope you don’t mind me contacting you - you gave me your business card at the museum, and said I could call if I needed help? This is a lot to ask, but I was wondering if you could visit the children’s home I work at? Some of the kids are still scared, and meeting a hero would do a lot to reassure them. Please ignore this if you are too busy, I don’t want to pressure you. And… Thank you again for saving us that day.

You reread the sent message and cringe at how stilted you sound. It was hard to get a balance between formal and friendly, and the result was a weird, rambling message that was more like an awkward email. Groaning, you chuck the phone away from you, letting it slide facedown across the kitchen table, and decide to make yourself a conciliatory cup of tea.

Knowing your colleagues will somehow sense the water being boiled, you end up making a full pot, and take it through to the office, where you are greeted with effusive gratitude. Not wanting to disturb their work - there is a horrible amount of paperwork involved in children’s care - you make your escape and settle into a slightly saggy armchair in the living room. Despite its usual clutter of worn furniture, toys, and crayon drawings adorning the walls, the living room is always oddly peaceful at night, when there are no children bouncing around, and you sigh gratefully as you inhale the fragrant steam of your tea and sip in silence.

When your phone buzzes in your pocket, it startles you so badly that tea slops over your fingers, and you shake it off with a muttered curse. Heart beating wildly, you pull your phone out, prepared to be disappointed by a junk email, but sure enough, Deku’s name greets you on the notification screen. Your fingers tremble a little as you unlock your phone and read breathlessly.

Deku [8:23pm]
Hasnalefd89W

You frown, but before you can react further, another message pops up.

Deku [8:23pm]
OH my gosh, I’m so sorry, I dropped my phone!

Deku [8:23pm]
I’m so glad you messaged me, I was hoping you were okay. Yes, I would be honoured to come and visit! I don’t know what I can do to help the kids, but I will do my best!

Your breath catches in a huff of laughter - Deku is just as earnest and warm via text as he is in person, it seems. It melts some of the nervousness that had crept up in your chest, and you don’t hesitate to reply.

You [8:24pm]
If you’re sure you don’t mind, then that would be awesome. When are you available?

Deku [8:24pm]
Any time!!

Deku [8:25pm]
Ok well maybe not any time, my agency would disagree with that haha, but really I am quite flexible. How about this Sunday?

A bloom of pleased surprise washes over you at how willing Deku is to come to the home. It’s Friday night now, so it really is very short notice, and you can’t help but feel gratified at his enthusiasm.

You [8:26pm]
Wow, Sunday would be great! If you come at 12pm you can have lunch with everyone, if you like? I hope we’re not too far for you…

You include the address and full contact details of the home in your message, and Deku’s response is immediate.

Deku [8:26pm]
That’s no problem at all!!

Deku [8:27pm]
So, I’ll be there at 12pm on Sunday! Lunch sounds great, as long as I’m not intruding!

You [8:27pm]
Haha no, you will be the best surprise ever. Thank you so much, Deku, really. See you on Sunday!

Deku [8:28pm]
Ah, it’s my pleasure! Goodnight! :)

You give a little hum of excitement as you put your phone away. The kids really would be beside themselves with joy to meet Deku in person, and you can’t lie to yourself - you are looking forward to it, too.

Chapter Text

Sunday morning arrives before you know it, and you’re rushing around the home with last minute preparations. You told all the other staff about Deku, of course, but the children don’t yet know about their surprise visitor, and you’ve become agonisingly aware of the mess around the house as the children spend the morning playing and generally wreaking havoc.

Halfway through a last minute hoovering session, you’re brushing at your hot face with the back of one hand when you hear the doorbell ring. Darting a glance to the clock, you’re horrified to see that it is 12pm on the dot, and you don’t feel ready in the slightest.

“I’ll get it!” you shout, wanting to be sure that you are the one to answer the door, so that the surprise isn’t ruined. Slamming the hoover into an airing cupboard as you go, you rush to the front door, taking a scant second to fan your face before opening the door to usher your guest inside.

Deku is standing on the doorstep in full hero costume. When he sees you in the doorway, a smile breaks out across his face, and you reflexively beam him a smile in return before you even know it.

“Uh, hi!” Deku says with an awkward wave. He looks good in his hero costume, just like he does on TV. You had known he was strong, obviously, but you hadn’t truly acknowledged the reality of that when he was shrouded in his All Might hoodie in the museum. There is no escaping his athletic muscles now, though, and every part of his green costume adds to the whole effect - this is a true Pro Hero in front of you.

“Hey,” you say eventually, and hope that your awkward pause wasn’t too noticeable. Oh God, had you been staring at him? You shake your head minutely to banish that thought, and gesture at him in welcome. “Please, come in! The kids are in the living room, so I was going to take you straight in there, if that’s okay? Unless you want a drink or something first?”

“Oh, no I’m fine, thank you, I’m happy to go straight in,” Deku says, and rifles his hand through the back of his curly hair with another sweet smile.

You nod and step back to let him in. He insists on taking his boots off, even though you reassure him it is alright, and eventually Pro Hero Deku is standing in the entryway in his socked feet, watching you expectantly. You notice idly that his socks are All Might themed and wonder if he owns anything that isn’t merchandise.

“This way,” you say, and then curse yourself inwardly at the awkwardness of your motion. Deku just nods politely, though, and follows you down the hallway. There isn’t any time to make conversation before you arrive at the living room, so you just glance at him once to check he is ready before you push the door open.

“Alright troops, we’ve got a special visitor!” You call, and the children turn to you with varying degrees of interest. Channelling a little of All Might’s drama, you swing out your arms, and deepen your voice. “Please welcome…. Pro Hero Deku!”

You step to the side in a grand reveal, and to your delight Deku follows your lead without hesitation, striking a heroic pose in the doorway as he turns a thousand-watt smile on the kids. “Hi, everyone!”

The room is instantly filled with shrieks of joy, and you have to hop hurriedly to the side to avoid being trampled under a stampede of screaming children. Deku just plants his feet, opens his arms, and leans forward to receive the small bodies barrelling at him in a wide hug. You hear his laughter mingling with the childrens’, and can’t help the grin on your face. Deku has a nice voice, you think - it’s warm and light, and full of expression. On TV, Deku gives press conferences and his familiar voice is that of a celebrity, but here, on your home turf, you are struck by his humanity - this is just a man, after all, despite his amazing power.

You watch with a permanent smile as the kids get to know their hero. Deku is sweetly patient with them - he seems almost bashful at times under the weight of their undivided attention, but listens carefully to everything they have to say, sharing his smiles out generously, and hoisting the little ones up into his arms. You laugh out loud when he ends up in a strongman pose, four kids hanging from his biceps, feet dangling off the floor. Deku hears your chuckles, and shoots a pleased grin at you over his shoulder, a light flush across his face.

Taking pity on him, you step forward and clap your hands once. "Alright kids, how about you let Deku go for a second, so he can come through for lunch?"

Your suggestion is met with cheers, and the kids begin to scurry through to take their seat at the large table. A few of them hang back with Deku, though, and you notice that Yuki is still holding on tightly to the hero's hand.

"Sit next to me, Deku!" Yuki says, patting him wildly on the arm and jumping up and down on the spot. Yuki hasn't had any more nightmares that you know of, but the way he is clinging to Deku tells you that bringing the hero here was a good decision.

Deku glances at you questioningly, and you nod your encouragement. "Okay Yuki, let's go! Heroes gotta eat well to stay strong, right?"

"Yeah!" Yuki fist pumps the air, and then starts dragging Deku out of the room without further delay.

Getting all the excited bodies to sit in their respective seats is a challenge, but you get there after some negotiation. Lunch is rowdy and cheerful, and in between cleaning spillages and grubby faces, you don't get much time to watch Deku. The one time you are able to look over to him, he seems to be deep in conversation with Yuki. The little boy has planted himself on Deku's knee, and Deku is leaning in, ear tilted carefully towards Yuki as he listens, eyebrows drawn into a gentle frown of concentration.

You eventually manage to catch Deku alone when everyone else is clearing up the dishes, refusing his repeated offers to help.

You sidle up next to him, suddenly feeling a little shy without the children as a buffer. "Hey, Deku?"

Deku jumps slightly when you speak, and then scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, meeting your gaze with a rueful smile. "O-oh you startled me!" he says, and you watch with amusement as a blush rises up on his freckled cheeks. You start to apologise, but he waves it away, gesturing at you instead. "No no, it's my fault for daydreaming! Please, what were you going to say?"

"I was going to ask about Yuki. I saw you talking together, and wondered if he said anything about the villain?" You take a furtive look around for any eavesdropping children, and lean in, your voice dropping low. "Yuki is actually the main reason I messaged you. He was having nightmares about the villain, and I hoped meeting you would help him focus on the fact that he's safe, or something."

Deku nods slowly as you speak, frowning thoughtfully at his scarred hands. "Yeah, he told me about his bad dreams, and we talked a bit about how heroes are there to keep everyone safe, and how being scared doesn't mean you're not brave, stuff like that." He looks at you suddenly, green eyes wide. "Was that okay? Did I say the right thing?"

You look at his earnest expression, and can’t imagine Deku ever saying anything that wouldn’t be helpful or comforting to a small, scared child. "Yes, I'm sure you did! To be honest, you could probably say anything and he'd feel reassured. You’re his favourite Pro Hero."

Deku gives an embarrassed chuckle, threading his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that, but I’m glad I can help! I know what it’s like to feel safe even at the mere thought of a hero you idolise.”

You sit up straight and point at his socks with a cheeky wink. “All Might, no?”

“Aha, yeah,” Deku says, ducking his head to hide a grin. “I’m... a bit of a nerd when it comes to heroes, and All Might was always my favourite, even before I met him. I dreamed of saving people with a smile, like he did.”

Something like wistfulness, or maybe regret, passes over his face, and you wonder what it must have been like for him to witness All Might’s infamous retirement from heroics firsthand. “Well,” you say, and can’t help the instinctive softness in your voice. “Looks to me like you achieved that dream, right?”

Deku looks at you for a long moment, expression unreadable, before he relaxes into a smile again. “Right!” He says brightly, and you feel warm inside, pleased to have shifted the conversation back to positivity.

“By the way, I think the kids wanted to show you the garden this afternoon, if that’s okay? We don’t expect you to stay here for hours, but we’d love to have you for as long as you would like to stay.”

“Of course! I’ve got an evening patrol today, so I’ll stay for as long as I can this afternoon!”

True to his word, Deku spends the afternoon with the children, playing in the garden and telling them stories about heroes and villains. At one point, you catch him using his quirk to toss the children into the air, making them shriek with wild laughter and terror. He gives you a sheepish look when he sees you watching, but you just shake your head - if you could trust anyone to keep the children safe, it was Deku, after all.

Your shift ends at five that day, which coincidentally turns out to be when Deku has to leave, so you find yourself at the door with him, the two of you parcelling out hugs and goodbyes to the kids, before you hustle him out of the door unceremoniously.

“Got to get you out of here quickly, or they’ll never let you leave!” You explain, pulling the door closed behind you with a distinct clack, and Deku chuckles. “Not really kidding,” you mutter, striding along the garden path and out of the gate. “I’m pretty sure Yuki was planning to let you sleepover in his room, by which I mean he would have kidnapped you and you’d never be seen again.”

Deku laughs, not put out in the slightest. “It wouldn’t be my first kidnapping, and would probably be the most fun!”

“Yeah, provided you like to reenact your own battle scenes over and over again with action figures.”

“Ah, that doesn’t sound too different to my nightly routine anyway, then,” Deku says with a contrived air of coolness, and you can’t help your answering grin, delighted at the easy banter. “Um, hey, do you live nearby, or are you walking to the station? I’d be happy to walk you wherever you’re going.”

“Oh, no you really don’t have to-“

“But I’d like to,” Deku interrupts, and his tone is gentle but surprisingly firm. When you look up at him, you see a gleam of determination in his eyes.

There isn’t a single person in Japan who doesn’t have a crush on at least one hero, you figure, but it was one thing admiring them from a distance, and quite another for a top Pro to offer to walk you home, after spending hours being adorable with a group of children you care about, all while wearing his very flattering hero costume. You really, really didn’t want to turn into a simpering fan, but Deku was not making it easy.

“Okay,” you say weakly, “I’m going to the station?”

“Great!” Deku starts forward immediately, and you walk alongside him without protest, silently praying for your soul. “I’m going there anyway, so you don’t need to feel bad. Oh! Not that you should’ve felt bad even if I wasn’t, it really isn’t a problem and I feel much better knowing that-“

You listen as he spirals off into a long, though still very polite, monologue about a hero’s duty. Deku had been in enough interviews and press conferences over the years for his occasional mumbling meltdowns to be common knowledge by now, but you hadn’t really expected to witness one first-hand.

It is surprisingly comfortable to listen to his murmuring fill the space between you as you walk, passing through patches of yellowing sun and long, late afternoon shadows, and you feel yourself relax into the moment. It had been silly to worry about losing your head, you think - ever since you first met him, Deku had proven himself to be, above all else, a humble and truly likeable person, and you realise now that there was no way you could ever put him back up on a celebrity pedestal. He was too real, too sweetly and imperfectly human.

“Deku,” you start hesitantly, after a few moments of comfortable quiet, “this might be too much to ask, but do you think you would ever be able to come back and visit us again sometime?”

He looks at you quickly, eyebrows raised as if surprised by your hesitance. “Of course it isn’t too much! Actually, I thought I’d come back next week, maybe?”

“Oh! I- we’d love that!” You say, and Deku looks pleased at your enthusiasm, ducking his head with a smile. “I can’t stress enough how much it means to the children. A lot of these kids… well, they’ve had rough starts in life. Meeting a hero is more than many of them could ever dream of.”

“If there’s more that I can do for them, please tell me,” Deku says quietly, and when you glance at him he is looking at you with an unwavering sincerity.

“Thank you.” You sigh a little, and scuff a piece of gravel with your toe as you walk. “The sad truth is that they need more help than what one hero can provide. The care system in Japan is… messed up.”

“What do you mean?”

A familiar, metallic burn is rising in your throat. “Even assuming the children are put into a decent children’s home - and trust me, there are plenty which fall short even by basic standards - the adoption and foster rates in this country are ridiculously low compared to other developed countries. It’s like there’s still some societal stigma about adoption, some need for people to have their own biological children. We do what we can to give them a happy and loving environment, but it’ll never be the same as a true family home.” You clench your fists suddenly, and can’t help the latent anger that rises up in your voice. “And all that’s before you take quirks into consideration.”

“Quirks?” Deku’s voice is soft now, low and serious.

“Yep. Children are moved into homes because their parents can’t, or won’t, look after them, or because they don’t have a guardian at all. Historically, that would usually be because of illness, death, abuse or any number of disasters like that. But now, there’s this undercurrent that nobody talks about openly - children born with unloveable quirks, frightening quirks, or... no quirk at all.” You take a deep, steadying breath, then meet Deku’s eyes directly. “Like me.”

“You’re quirkless?” Deku asks, and though his voice is gentle, he holds your gaze steadily. You search his face, but find none of the pity or disgust you have experienced in the past, only quiet understanding.

Shrugging one shoulder, you look away from him, staring blindly down the street ahead of you. “Yeah. I’ve come to terms with it, but I guess my parents never could. I grew up in the system, so I guess I’m probably more critical of it than people on the outside. I just can’t stand to see how children are allowed to slip through the cracks.”

“I’m sorry. I see what you mean about it being a bigger problem than one hero. There’s a lot of work to be done,” Deku says, frowning, and then he looks at you with a soft expression you can’t quite interpret. “You know, Pro Heroes get the attention because we’re flashy, getting into dramatic fights and rescuing people from danger, and everything. But people like you are the everyday heroes, working to make things better where you can. Your justified outrage and passion is pretty cool, you know?” He tilts his head, eyes creasing in a smile, and your cheeks sting with a blush.

Breaking the eye contact, you clear your throat and mutter some mix of denial and thanks, but Deku just brushes your protests off with a bigger smile. You carry on walking in companionable silence for a while, drawing closer to the station. The air is growing chillier as the sun sets behind the city horizon, and the cooling breeze is welcome on your hot cheeks.

When you reach the station, you stop in front of the passage that leads to your line, and turn to Deku. “Deku, thank you fo-“

“Oh, um, Midoriya!”

Taken aback by his bashful interruption, you don’t quite understand what he’s saying. “Sorry?”

Deku shifts from one foot to the other. “Ah, that is, Deku is my hero name, but my real name is Midoriya Izuku, and you don’t need to call me by my hero name, if you don’t want to… but only if you feel comfortable of course, I really don’t mind-“

“Midoriya,” you cut him off gently, and he gives you a pleased, if rather red in the cheeks, smile. “Thank you for walking me here, even if you were coming this way anyway. And thanks for listening to me rant, I know I can get a bit intense sometimes.”

“N-no, please, it was my pleasure. Thank you again for inviting me today, it really was fun!” He gives you a little bow that has your own cheeks turning red again, until you’re both blushing and you kind of wish the train would come and run you into the ground. “Well, I guess I should get to my platform, so I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah, we can arrange a day by text.” You both nod in agreement, and then as you start to turn away, you blurt out, “Stay safe in your hero-ing!”

You catch a last glimpse of the freckles on Midoriya’s cheeks being dimpled by a wide smile, and then you’re hurrying away, dragging a hand over your face.

“Hero-ing?” You mutter under your breath. “Wow, much intelligence, such vocabulary, great job, me.”

Despite your embarrassment, you can’t help but think that it really had been enjoyable talking to Midoriya. He was good company, and you were already looking forward to his next visit to the home.

Chapter Text

You jolt awake in the dark, heart hammering in your chest and limbs tangled in the sweat-damp constraints of your sheets. There is a sob in the back of your throat, and your eyes dart around the darkness, searching for an anchor in reality. The nightmare is still too fresh in your mind, too close behind you as you fight for true consciousness, like a dark beast looming over your shoulder.

Gripping the bedsheets with clammy fingers, you lie still and force yourself to focus on the feel of the texture of the fabric, the warp and weft of the cotton, softly bobbled in places where it is wearing thin. When you feel your heartbeat slowing a little, you reach over and switch the bedside lamp on, relishing in the sudden and blinding light as it pierces through the remnants of your fear.

The tentacle villain is still latched in your brain, haunting your nights with an irregularity that somehow makes it worse to deal with. If the nightmares had been disturbing your sleep every night, you might have gone to the doctor, but you don't feel like you could seek out help for what essentially amounted to the occasional bad dream. Although, you think bitterly, your mind still filled with fragmented images of suffocating, writhing tentacles, calling it a bad dream was a vast understatement.

You run a hand across your face, trying to let the air cool your sticky skin. When you feel a little calmer, you roll over to check the time on your phone. You sigh. It’s just past 4am, far too early to get up, but you know that there is no chance of getting back to sleep again tonight.

It takes a few more minutes of laying quietly and letting your body calm down before you feel able to get up. Dragging yourself out of bed, you take a moment to stretch the soreness out of your tired body, then strip the bedclothes and bundle them in your arms, still damp with fear-sweat. Using your elbow to open your bedroom door, you pad out into the small living area of your apartment, navigating the darkness by memory until you get to your washing machine and dump the bedclothes in unceremoniously. You strip your pyjamas off, throwing them in the machine too until you stand naked and shivering, then hurriedly turn the machine on and trot to the bathroom.

After a long, blessedly hot shower, rinsing the fear and exhaustion off your body, you dress in some worn, comfy clothes and ensconce yourself on the sofa with a fragrant tea, a thick blanket, and all the lights in your apartment turned on. It feels a bit childish to waste so much electricity, but having the lights on helps to banish the loneliness that the quiet darkness of early mornings can bring.

You set the TV on to a news channel, volume low so that the chattering of the presenters can wash over you gently, and sip at your tea. You can’t help the images of your nightmare floating to the front of your mind again and again, and eventually you stop fighting it - maybe you just need time to process it.

The dream started out like your true memory of that day at the museum - the crowds, the flashy exhibits, the childrens’ excitement. Just as in real life, the villain appeared in the courtyard, but it was so, so much worse. The tentacles boiled through the courtyard, squeezing and cracking at bodies until screams became splatters. You stood there in the middle of it all, slimy flesh sliding against your legs and creeping around your neck, and stared up at the faceless hooded figure in mute horror.

Then, the dream shifted, molded itself into something different in the way dreams do, and you weren't in the museum any more, but instead stood in a filthy, nondescript room, empty but for yourself and the villain. Cold, filthy water dripped from the ceiling onto your cheek, dribbling down your neck until you felt cool, slick flesh wipe it away, the delicate tip of one tentacle almost tender in its ministrations. Your gaze was trapped in the villain's hood, stuck on that dark, shadowed space, imagining the hateful face and eyes within.

A whimper was forced from your throat in trembling disgust as the lone tentacle wrapped itself languorously around your throat, and the villain chuckled venomously.

"I've waited a long time to silence your voice," it whispered hoarsely. "And now, finally you are here, alone with me, and all mine to enjoy." The tentacle began to tighten around your windpipe. Your limbs were heavy and sluggish, your body unresponsive. Tears leaking down your face, you felt the tentacle slowly, oh god, so slowly, begin to choke the air out of you, squeezing your throat until your eyes bulged and terror buzzed in your ears-

You shake your head violently, as if you can physically dislodge the dream out of your head and scatter the memories until they're nothing but dust. Dropping your head back on the sofa cushion, you take a few long, slow breaths, and focus in on the soft sound of the TV. After a while, feeling like you're coming back to reality again, you wind a hand out from under your blanket, and fumble for the remote. You switch over to a kids channel, and a small smile crosses your face when you see they're playing reruns of old All Might cartoons. The bright colours and brash, cheesy music are the perfect panacea for a nightmare, and you settle in to absorb it like mental comfort food.

You're not working today, which makes your minimal sleep a less serious issue, and also means that you feel no need to move from your sofa nest, so you stay watching cartoons and spacing out for a good couple of hours.

"Because I am here!" you mutter along with the TV, 6 episodes in and wondering whether All Might uses a teeth whitener, and then nearly jump out of your body when your phone buzzes in your pocket. "Goddamn."

You fish it out with some difficulty, wrestling with your blanket and the pocket of your comfiest joggers, and smile when you see Midoriya's name - you had edited his contact name from Deku to Midoriya as soon as you got on the train after saying goodbye, and it was nice to see it on your screen.

Midoriya [6:23am]
Good morning! :) I hope you're doing well? Is everything okay at the home? How is Yuki doing? I was wondering if I could ask you a favour?

Midoriya [6:23am]
Agh, so many questions, sorry!

Midoriya [6:24am]
Oh gosh I hope I didn't wake you, my friend just told me off and said it's too early to message!! I'm so sorry!

You can't help but laugh as you read the messages, hearing his voice clearly in your head, and immediately start tapping out a reply.

You [6:24am]
Hey! Haha don't worry, I was awake :) I'm ok, and Yuki and everyone are doing really well. And of course, we owe you so much already, just ask!

You send the message and barely manage to lock your phone before it starts buzzing again, this time more insistently, and you see Midoriya's name flash up as an incoming call. Heart leaping in your chest, you clear your throat before answering.

"Hello?"

"Ah, good morning!" Deku's voice is pleasant on the phone, warm and light even through the tinniness of a call. "I thought it would be easier to talk rather than text. I hope that's okay!"

"Yeah that's fine, Midoriya," you say with a smile, and then suddenly feel shy at how personal it feels to use his real name, as opposed to calling him Deku.

There is a small intake of breath on the other end before he replies. "Oh, good!" You can hear the bashfulness in Deku's voice, and suspect he feels as shy as you do. "Well, I was hoping you could help me. I want to get something for the children to bring as a gift when I visit tomorrow, and I want to make sure I get the right stuff! I did some research last night, but even the best advice can't account for personal preference, and I figured that you would know what they like… so, um, I was wondering if you could possibly come shopping with me today? Only if you're free, of course!" Deku finishes his speech in a rush, voice lifting at the end of his sentence in what you think is an endearingly hopeful tone.

You squeeze a fistful of blanket in your hand. "I won't come as a favour," you say, and there's a moment's pause.

"Oh… that's ok-"

You interrupt Midoriya hurriedly. "Because I'd like to come, and it's not a favour if I want to do it anyway, right?"

Midoriya exhales a sigh down the phone, and you both laugh at the clear relief in the noise. "If you're sure, then I'd be really happy!" he says, and your stomach flips a little at how sincerely pleased he sounds.

It barely takes another minute to arrange the plans, and then you end the call with a smile on your face and Midoriya's enthusiastic voice in your ear. Scrubbing your hands over your face, you decide that this is just what you need to banish the memory of your rough night - some time out of the house with a strong and kind hero.

~

It takes a bit of time to decide what to wear, but eventually you settle on something nice but fairly casual, as if you were going for a coffee on your own. You didn't think Midoriya was the kind of person to judge by appearances anyway, and part of you wanted him to see you like this - just yourself in casual, everyday clothes, rather than in your work clothes.

You had agreed to meet at a shopping district, and it only takes a short train ride from your neighbourhood to get there. It’s still a few minutes off your 11.30am meeting time, but when you locate the bench you had agreed to meet at, you see that Midoriya is already waiting there.

He is sitting on the bench looking relaxed, utterly absorbed in typing something on his phone, so you approach slowly and take the opportunity to observe him. He's wearing jeans with some well-worn, bright red hightops and what looks like a Red Riot t-shirt under his All Might hoodie, though it's hard to tell from your distance. His distinctive green hair is safely hidden under an All Might cap, and he has a small bag over one shoulder.

Midoriya must feel your eyes on him, because his head suddenly lifts, and you see his eyes flick observantly across the area - shops, people, noise - before they settle on you and he smiles brightly, popping up from the bench with a little wave. You return the wave with a smile of your own, and trot over to greet him.

"Hi! Thanks so much for coming!" he says, bouncing on his toes.

"Uh," you say intelligently. Now that you're up close, you can see much more about Midoriya, like the way his freckles are highlighted in the sunshine as he smiles at you. You blink yourself back into the conversation. "No problem! It could be fun, right?"

"Right! Well, if you’re ready, I'll show you what I was thinking of getting?"

You agree, happy to go along with whatever he wants, and Midoriya leads you deftly through the crowds, moving decisively towards the shop he clearly has in mind. The two of you chat as you walk, just idle talk about your favourite places in the area, and it is fun to see Midoriya’s enthusiastic face any time he alights on a topic he is interested in.

It’s surprisingly busy in the shopping district, but luckily Midoriya is a thoughtful companion to walk with, stepping between you and the crowd when they press too close, and gently shepherding you through until you reach your destination; a large hero merchandise shop.

Midoriya stops outside the shop and looks at you, one hand on the back of his head in a sheepish gesture. You grin widely at him, a knowing look in your eye. “So you weren’t kidding about being a hero nerd, huh?” you ask teasingly, and enjoy the pink that rises up on his cheeks.

He starts to wave his hands in protest, then gives up and drops them with a laugh. “I can’t help it,” he groans good-naturedly. “It’s just who I am, I’m a hero fanboy through and through. Heroes are just so cool!”

You search his face, but there’s no ego or slyness in his open expression - he clearly doesn’t even consider that he is in fact one of those cool heroes, if not the coolest. “You’re not wrong,” you say quietly, catching his gaze and trying to give him your most sincere smile. “Heroes are very cool.”

Midoriya freezes for a second, face completely blank as if his brain is buffering, and then the pink on his cheeks flares into a full-faced blush. He turns towards the shop, spine ramrod straight, and you wince, hoping you haven’t embarrassed him too much. Then he looks over his shoulder to check that you’re still following him, and the crooked smile on his face reassures you that everything is fine.

In the shop, Midoriya leads you around, practically quivering with enthusiasm and pointing out particular items that he was considering. After some prevaricating, he eventually explains that he particularly wanted to get the children some of his own Deku merchandise.

“Not because I think it’s the best, or anything!” he explains hurriedly, fingers tracing over a soft, green Deku plushie. “I just thought that if they got scared about the museum incident, it might help as a reminder that I’ll be there to protect them.”

All awkwardness slips from his face as he speaks about protecting the children, replaced by a determination you have seen him display a couple of times before. This is the hero in him, you think, this steely, shining determination. Midoriya might be kind and gentle, and sometimes even shy, but there is an unwavering and unbending strength of spirit in him, too.

“I think that’s a great idea,” you say with warmth in your voice as you imagine the kids’ reaction to receiving official Deku merch, and are rewarded with a wide, relieved smile. “But since it’s your merchandise, can’t you get it for free, or something?”

Midoriya tilts his head consideringly. “Hm... yeah, probably! But I’ve never really asked, because I like to support the shops, especially the independent businesses like this one.” He leans in, giving you a conspiratorial smile. “Plus, I like coming in to see what’s new. My friends don’t always tell me when they release new stuff, so I have to find out somehow!”

You think about this for a few minutes as you help Midoriya fill a couple of baskets with various Deku themed items suitable for children. As a Pro Hero, Midoriya must mainly move in hero social circles. His friendships with his old UA classmates are no secret, of course, given that they’re regularly shown in the news as working together and making public appearances at events and such, but you hadn’t truly considered the reality of that until now. You lived in such different worlds; Midoriya with his bright and famous hero friends, and you working in the children’s home, with your colleagues currently the closest thing to friends in your life.

“Um, hey, you okay?” Midoriya’s voice pierces through your thoughts, and you turn to see him watching you with a gentle, querying smile.

“I’m fine, sorry! I just spaced out a bit there,” you hurry to reassure him with a self-deprecating laugh. He frowns a little, gaze intent on your face for a moment, but then nods agreeably and begins fishing through the t-shirt pile he was hovering over.

Eventually, Midoriya is satisfied with his selections, and goes to pay. You watch with amusement as the boy behind the counter stares at Midoriya while he scans everything through; clearly one single hat isn't enough of a disguise when it comes to true hero fans. Midoriya himself shifts from foot to foot under the weight of the scrutiny, alternating between giving the boy a friendly grin and staring at his own shoes, but happily provides him with an autograph before you leave.

Midoriya refuses to let you help by carrying any of the bags for him, and eventually you give up trying to persuade him. Even without his quirk, you suspect that Midoriya is strong enough to carry many more bags, but you still feel bad for not being able to help.

"There's a nice ice cream place down there," you blurt, pointing down a side street as you both emerge from the shopping centre and step out into the sunshine.

Midoriya lights up instantly. "Oh! Would… would you like to go get some ice cream now?"

"If I don't eat something soon I will probably die, and if it isn’t ice cream then I’ll definitely cry," you answer with a dramatic hand to your forehead.

“Well, I can’t allow that!” Midoriya exclaims, somehow managing a heroic pose despite the many bags in his hands. “A hero should never watch someone cry when they can help with a smile, that's just Hero 101!”

You grin at each other, already walking towards the ice cream place. After a moment, you hum thoughtfully. “There must be exceptions to that rule, because Dynamight always seems like the type of hero to actually make you cry and then tell you off about it, right?”

Midoriya almost chokes on a laugh, turning his face away since he can't cover it with a hand. "Yeah," he manages weakly, "Kacchan is definitely the exception to that rule."

"Kacchan?" The cutesy name does not match up to the mental image you have of Dynamight, teeth bared in a vicious grin and explosions sparking from his palms.

Midoriya's eyes go huge for a second, and then he looks incredibly sheepish. "Aha, whoops! I promised him I wouldn't call him that in public." His gaze slides to you, and the guilty expression fades into a shy smile. "But then, it's not in public if it's between friends… right?"

You feel your face burn instantly red, but a pleased warmth spreads through you, like sunlight on your bones, and you nod quickly. "Right." The smile Midoriya gives you then, his green eyes lighting up instantly, is so dazzlingly bright that you fear you might go blind, and you actually stop breathing for a second. You grope for the threads of the conversation. “So… Kacchan?”

“Oh, yeah! Kacchan and I were childhood friends, and I never really stopped calling him that. He’s just always been Kacchan to me, I guess.” Midoriya swivels his head around, scanning the crowd as though Dynamight himself is waiting to eavesdrop on your conversation, and then tilts in closer to you. “He’s always had a… um, a short fuse? But he’s an amazing hero!” he finishes in a rush, as though wanting to make sure you believe him.

“I was only joking, really,” you say lightly. “Everyone knows he has a temper, but he’s still super popular as a Pro Hero, and there’s no doubt that he’s good at what he does.”

Your reassurance sparks something in Midoriya, for he nods enthusiastically, and begins to tell you in great detail about how powerful and clever Dynamight is as a hero, how his quirk is destructive but still has great utility. He waves his hands as he talks, oblivious to the full shopping bags swinging around his legs, and gets a distant look on his face as if he is reciting from a textbook in his memory. Luckily, you’re walking close enough that you can still hear everything as he devolves into mumbling a little, and you listen with interest. Being quirkless yourself meant you had never really bothered to learn much about them except when it was relevant to the children you looked after, so it is fascinating to get such detailed insight from someone so passionate about it.

Midoriya snaps out of his mumbling as soon as you stop outside the ice cream shop, and looks at you with a small wince, but you smile widely at him before he can apologise - you don’t need him to say sorry just for being himself.

“Shall we go in? Oh, they have amazing waffles here, by the way.”

“Yes, I’ve got to fulfill my heroic duty, after all!” Midoriya’s eyes crinkle as he smiles.

You find a table, and luckily don’t have to wait too long before you can order. Having been up for long hours by now, you decide to get something more substantial, and order a large waffle with ice cream, fruit and chocolate. Midoriya perks up as he listens to your order, and he orders the exact same thing with an air of anticipation, eyes wide and shining.

The ice cream and the food is as good as you remember, and it is fun to spend time with Midoriya like this. The conversation flows easily, and you find Midoriya a gratifyingly good listener; he talks a lot when excited by a topic, but is just as engaged when you speak, listening with a keen focus which is both flattering and encouraging. It turns out that you both share a love of old cartoons, particularly the old All Might series (to nobody’s surprise), and you find yourself shaking with laughter as the two of you fall into a battle of quotes that has tears running down your cheeks. Midoriya can do an excellent All Might impression, but it is his memory that impresses you the most - he seems to have every single line ready on the tip of his tongue, and you eventually have to admit defeat, laughing at his flushed face and celebratory fist pump as you concede the win to him.

When you have finished the food you order coffees, and there is a moment of quiet appreciation as you both sip; the coffee here is really good, and you close your eyes briefly to enjoy the nuttiness of the roast. When you look back up, Midoriya is watching you, his green eyes sincere as he meets your gaze directly.

“Um, hey,” he says, “I’m sorry if this is intrusive, but is everything definitely okay with you?”

Your eyebrows crease into a frown, and you open your mouth to reassure him that you’re having a great time, but he speaks again before you have a chance.

“It’s just that I couldn’t help noticing that in your text this morning you only said you were ‘ok’, when you said everyone else was doing really well, and then earlier in the shop you seemed so distant.” He twists his coffee mug around in his large, scarred hands, but his eyes never waver from yours. “And you seem kind of… worn out today? I mean, you look really nice! But you just seem tired? Is there anything I can help with?”

You are taken aback for a moment, amazed at the small details he has picked up on. Yet there is something about Midoriya that draws honesty, you think. Maybe it is the sincerity he exudes, like he truly means every word he says, or perhaps it is the compassion that shines in his body language. Whatever it is, you know that you already trust this man implicitly.

“I…” you start, and then slump with a little sigh. “I’m okay really, but I am tired today.”

Midoriya nods encouragingly, his eyebrows drawing together slightly in concern.

You have to clear your throat before you can continue. “Sometimes I have nightmares about that villain, Cthulhu, and I had a bad one last night. It… really, really scared me. It was bad enough that I couldn’t get back to sleep again, so it was a pretty early morning for me today.” A lopsided smile tilts on your mouth. “This was the perfect distraction to make me feel better though, so thank you!” You don’t mention your thoughts from the shop, about his status as a hero against yours as a civilian - that won’t be useful or helpful in this conversation.

Feeling a little embarrassed at laying yourself so bare, you gaze out the window for a moment to gather yourself. You almost startle when you feel a hand settle over yours, but Midoriya’s calloused fingers are gentle, and the warmth in the touch spreads up your arm comfortingly. It is a brief gesture, gone almost as soon as it is there, but the feel of it lingers on your skin.

“I... I’m really glad that this trip was a good distraction for you,” he says, voice soft, then sighs and stares into his coffee. “I wish I could help you more with the nightmare stuff. I've been there before - quite a lot, actually - and haven't found a good solution yet." He looks up at you with a rueful smile, and you pull a face in sympathy.

"Yeah, I can't imagine what you go through. I only met one villain and I'm already struggling! Being a hero must come hand in hand with traumatic experiences."

"Unfortunately, yes. People don't realise that. They just see our strength as we win against the odds." Midoriya's hand tightens around his mug. "And that's what they should see, they need heroes to be strong, unbending and smiling, so that they feel safe with us. Everyone deserves to feel safe."

He meets your gaze then, and you see that sudden flash of determination in him again; a spark in his eyes and a firming of his lips. You inhale sharply, suddenly wanting to tell him how much you do feel safe, but his intense expression melts away in the next instant. He gives you a small but earnest smile.

"Um, anyway, if it happens again you know you could always call or text me?" he says, and then hurries to finish before you can decline. "It's no bother, I'm often awake at odd times anyway for patrol! I just find it helps sometimes to talk about it. And… well, I'd feel better knowing you weren't suffering alone." He laughs, looking embarrassed. "Guess that's just my meddling hero instincts."

"Oh, that’s really nice, thank you,” you say, filling your words with warmth. “And for what it’s worth, that goes both ways.” A thought occurs to you, and you frown in consternation. “And also, you said everyone deserves to feel safe with heroes around, but what about the heroes themselves? Who helps you feel safe?”

Midoriya beams at you. “Ah, I knew you had a hero’s instincts,” he crows, eyes crinkling at you. “You sound just like one of us!”

“Definitely not a hero, just a concerned citizen!” You flap your hands in denial, laughing.

“Well, don’t worry, it’s a hero’s job to make others feel safe, and we couldn’t do that if we didn’t feel confident in our ability to protect ourselves.”

“I guess that’s true,” you say, though inwardly you still doubt his words a bit. He had literally confessed to you not minutes ago that heroes got regularly traumatised, after all. But you don’t feel it is your right to argue the point, so you let the conversation drift back to lighter things.

Eventually, you both run out of coffee, and Midoriya has to leave to get to his agency building for a late meeting, so you ask for the bill. There is a brief tussle in which Midoriya reaches for the slip of paper, and you have to snatch it away from him, ignoring his noises of protest.

“You spent so much on the children earlier, and the ice cream was my idea in the first place,” you say firmly, and grin victoriously when Midoriya reluctantly relents.

He doesn’t back down from insisting on walking you to the train station, however, and so you eventually part ways at the ticket barrier - his hero agency is quicker to get to by foot from here, apparently. There is a moment of quiet as you both hesitate. You absently flip your travel card over and over in your hands.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to come shopping with me,” Midoriya says, indicating the bags in his hands. “Will, um, will you be working tomorrow when I visit?”

“Yep, I’ll be there! I wouldn’t want to miss you getting swamped by grateful kids after giving them all of that.” You laugh suddenly. “Not sure even your strength will hold up against their enthusiasm - children are a bigger challenge than anyone gives them credit for.”

Midoriya laughs too, raising one fist, still clenching the bag straps. “I’ll look forward to that fresh challenge, then. Plus Ultra!”

“Plus Ultra,” you echo, and the two of you share a grin before you start to turn away. “See you tomorrow, Midoriya.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow! Get home safely, okay?”

The smile stays on your face all the way home. It has been a long time since you had truly made a friend of your own; work and life at the children’s home just seemed to absorb all of your attention. But now, as crazy and unbelievable as it seems, you think you really might have made friends with the Symbol of Peace himself.

Chapter Text

The next morning comes after a peaceful, nightmare-free sleep, and you head to work on light feet. The sun feels refreshing on your skin, a soft warmth that gentles the coolness of the damp morning air. You breathe deeply, and smile.

The day feels so delightfully fresh that when you get to the home, you immediately suggest taking some of the little ones to the park for the morning, and Ueno nods in fervent agreement.

"Oh, you angel, would you? They've been fussy all through breakfast, and Yuki is just about climbing the walls. That boy has more energy than he knows what to do with."

You eye Yuki, who is currently smashing two toy trucks together and shrieking incoherently at one of the smaller children, who just giggles back at him. "God help us all when he gets his quirk."

Ueno snorts. "That's one mystery I'd rather remain unsolved, quite honestly."

Nobody knows what to expect of Yuki's quirk. A young woman, assumed to be his mother, had brought him to children's services as a toddler, explained his name and age, and then promptly vanished. So Yuki had no family, medical, or quirk history to his name, and though he was generally a happy boy, you knew it affected him sometimes, not knowing.

“Won’t be long now,” you muse. “He’s four already, so it’s going to happen sooner rather than later, I guess.”

“I just pray that the carpets survive this time.” Ueno rolls her eyes heavenward in a gesture of supplication, and you snigger. The last child to manifest their quirk had done so by sneezing a large amount of toxic sludge all over the living room floor, and Ueno had been the one to step in and deal with the situation. The child had come out of it unscathed and perfectly healthy, but the same could not be said of the carpets.

Pulled out of your ruminating by more shrieks and the sound of plastic smashing, you hurry to bundle the most energetic children, including Yuki, into their coats, and out of the door. Ueno waves cheerfully as you go, bouncing a baby on her hip and already enjoying the imminent peace and quiet.

The day’s freshness seems to lift the children’s spirits just as much as it had yours, and you spend the morning playing in the small park near the home. It’s not much, just a climbing frame, a slide, and a sand pit, but the children’s imaginations fill in all the gaps, and when you eventually troop home for lunch, they are all smiling, pleasantly tired.

After lunch, and a blessedly calm naptime, you focus on indoor activities, drawing and colouring and chatting until the older children return from school, and the home is full of voices and bodies.

Midoriya’s visits to the home are no longer a surprise, and so when the doorbell rings there is a general uproar, and even from the kitchen you hear the shouts of ‘Deku!’ as lots of small feet rush to the door. Drying your hands on a dishtowel, you follow behind the children, hanging back as they open the door and immediately throw themselves at the green-clad figure of Midoriya, who laughs as he is mobbed.

“W-whoa! Hi, everyone!”

Ueno immediately steps forward. “Alright you devils, let the hero get in the door, at least, before you maul him,” she scolds with a laugh, and the children reluctantly filter away from the door. “Go through into the living room and Deku will come see you there.”

As the melee of bodies and shouting thins, you realise that there is someone else standing behind Midoriya, watching over his shoulder with interest and a bright smile. You note the pretty pink cheeks, the sleek, rounded lines of her hero costume, and the cheerful disposition of her body language, and the name is out of your mouth even as you think it.

“Uravity?”

Both Midoriya and Uravity perk up at the sound of your voice, turning to you, and you find yourself suddenly blinded by the force of their combined smiles.

“Oh! I hope it was okay for me to bring Uravity, she really wanted to come and see you all.”

“Hi!” Uravity immediately pushes past Midoriya, and envelopes first Ueno, and then you, in a friendly hug. She smells lovely, like fresh summer strawberries, and her costume is satisfyingly smooth to touch. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you from Deku, and just had to come myself. I was so curious about where he is spending all of his time all of a sudden!”

“I, um, it’s nice to meet you too,” you say, and it is completely honest. Uravity is a well-loved hero, and you are somewhat starstruck by her unexpected appearance. Apparently, seeing Midoriya regularly was not enough to make you immune to the awe of meeting other heroes in real life. “The children will be ridiculously excited to meet another hero - we’ve got lots of Uravity fans in this house!”

Uravity claps her hands, brown eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Oh, that’s so nice!”

After you and Ueno introduce yourselves a little more formally, Ueno steps forward with a welcoming gesture. “Uravity, would you like to come through and meet the children? I’ll bring some tea and snacks in, as well.” Uravity happily sheds her tall boots and follows her into the house, the two of them already chattering away like old friends.

You turn and stare at Midoriya, who chuckles at the look on your face. “You couldn’t have warned me?

He tussles the back of his head sheepishly. “I thought it would be a nice surprise?”

“Oh, it’s a really nice surprise,” you reassure him, and grin as he sighs with relief, pulling off his boots and stepping into the house properly.

Midoriya walks to you and sets down the large bags he was carrying, then looks at you with an unreadable expression. You find yourself suddenly nervous for no reason, and surreptitiously wipe your palms on your clothes.

“Um, hi, by the way,” he says, and lifts his arms just slightly in what you realise is a hesitant suggestion of the confident hug Uravity had pulled you into.

“Hi.” You step forward immediately and slide your arms around him, before the moment has a chance to get awkward. Midoriya is warm, really warm, and his strong arms squeeze you just a little before he lets go and steps back quickly. There is pink on his freckled cheeks, but he smiles at you widely. Your heart beats just a little faster.

“Now Uravity can’t tell me off for being a bad friend,” he says, eyes flicking to the living room, where the bubbly hero’s laughter can be heard over the children’s voices.

You raise a querying eyebrow, biting back a smile. “Uravity would tell you off? She seems too nice for that!”

Midoriya’s eyes go comically wide, and he hunches as if to hide behind you. “Oh no, trust me,” he mutters to you. “Uravity is in fact very nice, but she can also be absolutely terrifying.” His body language is clearly playing up the joke, but you note with great amusement that the fear in his voice doesn’t sound entirely feigned.

“I’ll take your word for it, then. And I’ll defend you if your honour as a friend comes into question.” Feeling brave, you pat him on the shoulder consolingly and flash him a grin. “Come on, we’d better get in there before they come looking for you and I get crushed in the stampede.”

Midoriya nods agreeably, and takes his bags through to the living room, not hesitating before he walks in with a broad smile. You follow right behind him, and so you are just in time to see the incident right as it happens.

Uravity is busy chatting and laughing with a small swarm of children, some of the older kids lingering nearby and feigning boredom, and Ueno is clearly still in the kitchen, so there is nobody to watch as Yuki urges one of the younger boys, Riku, up onto the top of the large bookcase. They have dragged a chair over, and are clambering awkwardly up the top half of the shelf, a good 5 feet off the floor.

When Midoriya walks into the room, Yuki’s head immediately whirls to stare at him and he visibly quivers with excitement. One of his feet slips, and he reaches out for a better handhold with a yelp, but instead grabs onto Riku’s arm, and they both shriek with alarm. The bookcase wobbles with the sudden movement, and then tilts forward alarmingly.

“Boys!” You cry, already knowing how this will end. Everything seems to go into slow motion.

Before you can breathe, let alone move, there is a crackle of green lightning, and a blur of pink. For a horrifying instant, the boys are falling, the bookcase tipping down on top of them, and then the heroes are there. Deku neatly catches Riku in one arm, steadying the bookcase with his other hand, the heavy wood not even appearing to strain him at all. Uravity dives, the tips of her fingers brushing against Yuki’s arm, and suddenly he is not falling, but floating.

There is a moment of silence in the room, and then it is shattered by Riku’s terrified wails as he bursts into tears, flinging his little arms around Midoriya’s neck. Uravity huffs out a relieved breath, picks herself up off the floor, and releases Yuki gently onto the carpet. You cross over to them quickly, picking Yuki up and dusting him off, taking the chance to check him over.

“Oh, oh my god, thank you!” You say somewhat frantically, heart still in your throat. “Yuki, what have we told you about climbing on the furniture?!”

Yuki scuffs the floor with his toe, muttering something that could be interpreted as an apology under his breath, and Uravity nudges you with a soft chuckle. “It’s okay! No harm done, right?”

“Thanks to you two being here.” You give Yuki another stern look, and then turn to check on Riku.

He is still clinging onto Midoriya, sobbing into his shoulder as the hero pats his back gently with one large hand. Midoriya looks over Riku’s head to give you a wide smile.

“No harm done,” Midoriya echoes, sharing a grin and a nod with Uravity, and you feel the last vestiges of your panic melt away.

Letting out a long, shaky breath, you turn to the rest of the children, who are scattered around the room with varying expressions of shock and excitement.

“Well, everyone is okay, thanks to our heroes Deku and Uravity!” you say, more cheerfully than you feel, and the kids break into cheers.

There is chaos in the room for several long minutes as the children excitedly question Yuki and reenact the action, diving across the floor in imitation of Uravity, and begging her to float them too. Midoriya eventually relinquishes Riku to you, laughing off your apologies at the damp spot of tears the boy has left on his shoulder.

Ueno returns with the promised tea and snacks, and bustles around with the comforting energy she effortlessly exudes. Once everyone is settled down a little, Midoriya retrieves his bags from the doorway.

Yuki, who had been sulking in the corner since being scolded by Ueno, perks up immediately. “What’s that, Deku?” He asks boldly, and you have to stifle a laugh at the naked hope on his face. The child can sense presents from a mile away.

“Well,” Deku says, looking around the room at each child in turn. His gaze lands on you last, and you feel warm inside as he flashes you an excited smile. “I brought some gifts for you all!”

Instantly, there is yet more chaos as the children all clamour to see what the gifts are, crowding around Midoriya where he kneels on the floor like a flock of noisy pigeons fighting over crumbs.

Uravity laughs outright as her friend disappears under the sea of children, charming spots of pink rising on her already rosy cheeks. “Hey guys, I have an idea!” She claps her hands together, and by some miracle the children all turn to look at her. “How about you let Deku hand out the gifts one by one, and then I’ll give you each a turn at being floated!”

She beams as they all shout their delighted agreement, and you watch with amazement as the chaos immediately turns into an orderly production line of heroes and gifts. The room slowly fills with green as the merchandise is distributed, and the children run between you and Ueno, showing off their new treasures as you both coo over everything appreciatively.

The evening passes, and eventually some of the other staff arrive for the night shift, ready to start getting the smaller children prepared for bed. Midoriya and Uravity bid each child goodbye, sharing out enough bright smiles to keep the home lit for days. You had managed to time Midoriya’s visit with your shift ending again, so you say goodbye as well, and grab your bag before meeting the heroes at the door.

Before you can hustle them outside safely, there is the thundering of small feet, and Yuki crashes into Midoriya’s legs. He is wearing a Deku themed t-shirt over his pyjamas, and looks up at the hero with shining eyes.

“Bye Deku, I love you!” The kid shouts, and then tears back down the hallway and disappears into the kitchen.

Uravity giggles, patting her friend on the arm. “I knew you had some fans here, Deku, but that was too adorable!”

“I-“ Midoriya stutters, and when you look at him you see that he is distinctly misty-eyed, biting his lip as he stares after Yuki.

“Um,” you start, slightly concerned, but Uravity laughs again, free and easy.

“Don’t worry, Deku is very happy. He’s always been a crybaby!”

“Uraraka!”

“What? It’s true!” She grins wickedly at you, unabashed at Midoriya’s embarrassment as he flushes bright red and glares at her, though his heart doesn’t really seem to be in it.

You feel light-hearted with amusement, and delighted at how touched Midoriya is by Yuki’s proclamation. He dashes the back of a scarred hand against his eyes, and gives you a helpless look.

“Come on, you should both get out now while it’s quiet,” you say, and laugh softly at Midoriya’s look of relief as you shepherd them out of the door.

“While it’s quiet?” Uravity queries, though she doesn’t resist your ushering.

"Yes, apparently goodbyes bring high risks of kidnapping in this house," Midoriya explains helpfully, and then catches your eye with a smile.

"Okay?" Uravity wrinkles her nose, clearly not understanding, but then shrugs and bounces down the garden path. "So, are we all going to the station?"

You and Midoriya both confirm that you are, and the three of you agree to walk together. It is different with Uravity here - she has the same kindness and enthusiasm that Midoriya radiates, but she is perkier and bolder than her friend.

She questions you as you walk, just innocent curiosity about your life, the home, the things you like. Midoriya listens to you carefully, sometimes probing further into your answers with a concentrated frown on his face, until Uravity elbows him out of his investigative trance. They work well together, you think, navigating each others' personalities with a deftness and familiarity that shows how close they are.

"Oh!" Uravity turns to you as you draw close to the station. "We should trade numbers. Here, put yours in my phone!"

She hands you the device confidently, and you hastily fumble yours from your pocket. You type your name and number into her contacts, and when you swap back over you see that she has entered her real name, Uraraka Ochako, followed by a little flower emoji, rather than her hero name. She beams at you when you look back up at her.

"Please, call me Uraraka!"

"Oh, um, okay! Thank you." You glance at Midoriya, feeling self-conscious, but he just smiles and nods encouragingly.

Uraraka looks between the two of you, her bright eyes full of an alarming intelligence, then turns to Midoriya. "Deku! Would you mind buying me some juice before we go? But one with the least fruit sugars, if you can!"

Midoriya looks a bit puzzled at the request, but jogs over to the vending machines without argument, bending to look at the options with a hand on his chin. Uraraka immediately turns to you, and her expression sparkles with mischief.

"It's so easy to distract him when you know how!" she says smugly, laying a conspiratorial hand on your arm.

"You wanted to distract him?"

"Yes! I just wanted to speak to you alone for a minute." Uraraka must see the sudden concern cross your face, because she waves her hands quickly. "Nothing bad, don't worry! The opposite, actually."

"Okay, what is it?" you ask tentatively.

Uraraka turns to gaze at Midoriya as she speaks, her eyes distant. "Well, I just wanted to say thank you! Deku has a lot of friends who care about him, but he keeps himself too busy sometimes and becomes distanced from people outside of hero work, so I worry about him. So I was surprised and so happy when he started talking about you and has been spending time with you at the home." She looks back at you, eyes crinkling with a smile full of affection. "I think he's already very fond of you, and it's good for him to have a friend like you. Please take care of him!"

You are taken aback by her easy openness, and unsure that you deserve this attention, but you still nod solemnly. "I'll do my best," you say, and you mean every word.

Midoriya has finally chosen a drink, and as he turns to walk back over to you, Uraraka segues neatly into saying goodbye and wishing you well. She gives you a swift hug, then grabs the juice from Midoriya and trots off into the station with a cheerful wave.

Midoriya looks bemused, but doesn’t follow her immediately, and instead continues over to where you’re standing.

“Hey, thank you again for saving the boys earlier, you and Urav-Uraraka both,” you say. “Honestly, at this rate we’ll need to have you on retainer, since we seem to keep needing you so much!”

Midoriya laughs, giving you a pleased look. “It’s okay, that’s literally what heroes are for!” He ducks his head slightly and looks at you through dark eyelashes. “I guess that means I’ll just have to keep coming around, to keep everyone safe, right?”

“Yes, definitely,” you say softly, and then clear your throat and adopt a stern look. “After all, it’s your heroic duty to come and play with us regularly, and as good citizens it is our duty to feed you lunch sometimes!”

Midoriya gives you a smart salute, and you both dissolve into wide grins. Before you can say anything else, a muffled ‘I am here!’ sounds from Midoriya’s pocket. He startles and pulls his phone out, reads the message with a small frown, then looks at you and bites his lip.

“That’s Uraraka,” he says, shoving the phone back in his pocket. “I need to hurry or face her wrath if we miss the train.” He pulls a face of mock terror, and you nod with a huff of laughter.

“Okay, well hopefully we’ll see you soon, then?” You can’t help the note of hopefulness that creeps into your voice.

“Yes, of course! And if you like, I could bring some more of my friends to meet the children... but only if you think that’s a good idea, of course, I don’t want to be a nuisance-”

“They would love that,” you interrupt gently, and Midoriya nods with a small, determined smile.

“Get home safely, okay?”

“Yeah, you too.”

You share a smile, then give him a weird little wave goodbye that makes your insides shrivel as you silently cringe at your own awkwardness, and he turns towards the station. He seems to hesitate for a moment, then you see his shoulders straighten and firm, and he suddenly whirls back around and enfolds you into a hug.

“See you soon,” he murmurs, voice soft in your ear, and his curls brush against your cheek. You barely have time to return the hug before he is stepping away again, and you watch him leave, feeling slightly dazed.

You are not a touch averse person - you couldn’t be, working with children of all ages - but receiving so much friendly affection from two heroes in one day had even your head spinning. Hugging Uraraka was comfy and sweet, but Midoriya felt different; warm, and reassuringly solid, he had held you with a gentleness that belied the strength in his arms.

Realising that you were standing and staring into space, looking like a complete idiot, you blush furiously, and hurry towards your own platform. The bustling noises of the station are a welcome distraction from your embarrassment, and you let yourself be swept along as your thoughts drift.

It was naturally overwhelming, being around heroes who were so amazing at what they did, so far from your uneventful life, and that was only emphasised by how nice they were. Heroes were just people, of course, so not all of them would be so delightful to be around, but Midoriya and Uraraka both had a natural sunshine to them that, when combined with their heroic badassery, made it hard for you to believe that they were really just people, like you.

You clench your fists, fighting back a wave of insecurity that threatens to drown your good mood. If you and Midoriya were going to spend more time together in future, then you were going to have to get a grip on yourself. Just as you had told Uraraka, you would do your best to be a good friend to him.

Chapter Text

It was collectively agreed that Pro Hero Deku deserved a thank you for everything he had done for the children and the home. It was also agreed that, out of all the staff, you knew the hero best, and so should spearhead the project.

Which is how you find yourself up to your elbows in glue and glitter, smearing shimmery stains across the kitchen as you try desperately to find the oven gloves. The oven timer is beeping insistently, each beep ratcheting your nerves up a notch.

“Oh, shi- sugar!” You cast around clumsily for a solution, ignoring the sniggers from the children busy crafting at the kitchen table. Your eyes alight on a teenager loitering in the doorway, and you brighten immediately. “Yuzuna! No, don’t leave. Come and help me, please?”

Yuzuna sighs heavily at getting caught up in your madness, but comes into the room without argument. She is a sweet but somewhat aloof middle-schooler, and sometimes struggles with the noise and chaos of living with so many other people, particularly the younger children. You suspect her quirk, Sharp Hearing, probably plays a large part in that.

“What’s up?” she asks quietly, eyeing your sticky, glittery hands with a wrinkled nose.

“Can you just help me get the cake out of the oven? Then you’re free to go, I swear!”

Yuzuna sighs again, then efficiently finds the oven gloves, turns off the timer, and rescues your cake from its potential demise. She barely waits for your effusive thanks before slinking away with an affected air of long-suffering patience that makes you smile inwardly.

Luckily, the cake is perfect, and with the threat of the oven dealt with, you return to helping the children with their crafting. Once the cake is cooled, you move onto decoration, fixing it up while keeping an eye on the greedy little fingers that try to sneak into the frosting bowl.

"Well," you say, standing back to admire your finished products. "What do we think, will Deku like it?"

The children have made an assortment of cards, decorated with drawings, collages, and random handfuls of glitter, and filled with handwritten messages of thanks in their adorably wonky writing. The cake was purely your idea - you wanted to give Midoriya something more than just words of thanks. You spent a long time searching for the right recipe, and were quite pleased with the result; a vanilla sponge with fresh strawberries and cream, decorated with a light buttercream frosting in All Might's colours. Simple, well-loved flavours and a theme you knew his hero fanboy side would love.

The children cheer their approval, and you share a round of high fives in celebration. They aren't quite as excited to help you clean up, but luckily Inaba swoops in to your rescue, drawing the children into a game that involves defeating the 'League of Mess Villains'. Throwing your colleague a grateful smile, you box up the cake and carefully pack the cards into your bag, then head out of the door with the children’s shouted goodbyes at your back; it is time to make a delivery.

~

Midoriya’s agency building is a modest, modern-looking building downtown composed of shining planes of glass. It looks smart and welcoming, not overwhelmingly big, yet you still find yourself hesitating on the busy pavement outside, looking up at the building with trepidation.

Was this okay, to turn up out of the blue? Were civilians even allowed inside a hero agency without an invitation? You’d never had any interactions with heroes before the museum incident, and you suddenly regret not showing a deeper interest before now. People file past you as you shift from foot to foot, the cake box sitting awkwardly in your arms. Midoriya might not even be there, and what then? You sigh, wondering if you should call him first.

You're still trying to decide when there is a commotion from further down the road. You can hear shouting over the traffic, and people start to mill around worriedly like a kicked anthill, scurrying off the pavement and crossing the road.

Hefting the cake in your arms, you turn to see what is going on. For a moment, you see nothing but scurrying civilians, but then there is a sharp shout, and the crowds part far enough for you to see.

A man with long, spindly claws runs down the pavement in your direction, a handbag clutched to his chest and a wild look in his eyes.

"Thief!" You hear the word in the air, passed through the crowds like a relay baton.

The man is still running towards you, close enough now that you can see the animalistic whites of his eyes, and the spittle flying as he pants. There is just a split second before he reaches you, and when your body moves, it feels more like an instinctual reaction than a decision.

You purposely take a neat step to your left, directly into the man's path.

He slams into you like a train, and you hit the ground hard. The force of the collision drives all the air from you, and your vision explodes into black stars as your head smacks the pavement. Pain blossoms across your skull.

The man grunts and curses as he writhes, struggling to free himself from the tangled heap you’re in, limbs and bags and boxes sprawled across the concrete. Your head is reeling, painful and momentarily confused. Why do you feel so urgent? It is hard to breathe with the man’s weight pinning you down, but you try to think past the pain pulsing in your skull. The answer comes to you like a fresh blow to your nerves - this man is a thief and you were trying to stop him.

The man pushes up to his knees over you, spitting some insult that you can’t quite hear past the ringing in your ears. You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision as you fumble for the object digging into your side. He pulls one hand back with a snarl, those long, thin claws poised to slash, and you know immediately he is not going to hold back. With a grunt of effort you finally hook the cake box with your fingertips, lean up despite your sudden nausea, and smash it into his face with both hands.

Cake and frosting explodes everywhere, and you keep ramming the flattened box into his face, ducking the wild thrashing of his arms until he eventually smacks you in the side of the head and you fall back on your elbows.

You watch dazedly as the man paws furiously at his face, blinded by the cake smeared in his eyes and clumped in his eyelashes. There's no way he'll let you get away with that once he's back in action. You push with your feet and elbows, crawling backwards across the pavement, the rough concrete snagging your clothes.

"Someone get a hero," you croak, hoping a bystander will hear you. Midoriya's agency is right there, but you're still woozy, and you know you won't make it in time.

"There's no need, I'm already here." A calm voice answers, and you look up into the heterochromatic gaze of Pro Hero Shouto.

He steps in front of you and stomps his right foot down in one smooth movement. Ice crackles out, sweeping down the pavement, and in an instant, the man is encased in an icy prison, now frozen with his hands stuck to his cake-encrusted face. A single strawberry drops off his nose.

Shouto turns and crouches in front of you, completely ignoring the frozen criminal. “Hello, I’m Shouto,” he says simply. "Are you hurt? I saw you step into his way, and I can't decide if that was brave or stupid for a civilian to do."

"Feels pretty stupid right now," you say with a shaky smile. "Hit my head on the pavement." Sitting upright, your fingers drift to probe tenderly at the back of your skull, where you can already feel a lump forming. Tears form in your eyes at the soreness, and you pull your hand away with a wince.

Shouto's eyes narrow as if he is calculating something, and then he shuffles so he is kneeling next to you.

"Can't take you anywhere until that guy's taken care of," he murmurs, gesturing carelessly behind himself to the thief. "Is it okay if I touch you?”

At your agreement, he places gentle fingers directly on the lump on your head, ignoring your hissed intake of breath, and then there is blessed cold radiating from his hand, numbing the pain a little. Shouto pulls a phone out with his other hand, going straight to a speed dial number.

"Izuku," he says immediately, and your heart lightens at the thought of Midoriya's reassuring presence. "I've got a minor criminal captured outside, and an injured civilian, can someone come down and help me, please? Also, there is a lot of cake." He listens for a moment, nods, and then hangs up.

By now, people are starting to gather back around, murmuring and pointing at the scene. Shouto tries to ask everyone to back away, since the criminal is still technically unsecured until he is officially in police custody, but the crowd largely ignores him. Eventually, he simply shifts his foot and constructs a thin wall of ice, fencing off a small space in front of the agency with the two of you and the thief inside.

You sit quietly through all of it, trying not to move too much with the residual dizziness in your head, and deeply appreciative of Shouto’s icy fingers cupping your skull. Shouto is very pretty, you note distantly, with his fine cheekbones and his long, two-toned hair pulled back flatteringly. Just as you are about to ask Shouto if you are allowed to go home now, there is movement from the agency doorway.

“Shouto!” Midoriya’s voice comes with a wave of relief that washes over your whole body. Even Shouto seems to perk up, his neutral expression brightening slightly.

You both turn to see Midoriya in his hero costume, jogging down the steps of the building. He has a cheerful, matter-of-fact smile on his face, mouth open as if to continue talking, but when his gaze falls on you, the expression slips off his face. Green lightning crackles up his form, and he freezes in place just for a second before he cries your name and springs forward.

And then he is there, kneeling on your other side, gloved fingertips touching your cheek gently before dropping to hold your shoulder. The sheer physicality of his warm presence is comforting, and you offer him a small smile, even as you feel the last vestiges of your adrenaline drain away. Concern is written large across his face, green eyes wide as his gaze rakes over you assessingly, lingering on Shouto’s hand cupping your head.

“Hi,” you say, helpfully, and his hand squeezes your shoulder just a little.

“What happened? Where are you hurt? Shouto, who did this?” His free hand clenches into a fist, and for a split second lightning races over his body again as his eyes turn steely. You blink.

Midoriya looks - amazing. Powerful and wonderful with a fierce green fire in his eyes, the ice walls around you casting glittering sunlight across his freckled face. With his normal friendliness extinguished, there is danger in his expression, and yet nothing has ever made you feel quite so safe in your life. Shouto may be pretty, but Midoriya is magnetic, every new emotion on his face acting like the gravitational pull around a star.

Your hand drifts up, fingers anchoring in the stiff fabric of his sleeve. “I’m okay, just bumped my head a bit.”

Midoriya frowns at you, eyebrows pinched together, searching your eyes for any lie. Then he looks over to his friend. “Shouto?”

Shouto gives him a small nod. “Minor head injury, no signs of concussion as of yet other than pain, and I suspect some dizziness. Izuku, based on how you’re reacting right now, I have to assume you two know each other?”

“Yes, this is my friend I was telling you about, from the children’s home,” Midoriya says, and gives you a smile, hand tightening briefly on your shoulder. He introduces the two of you properly, looking pleased when Shouto politely invites you to call him Todoroki rather than his hero name, and then turns to his friend. “Shouto, can you take care of things out here?”

Happy to let them take charge, you sit between the two heroes as they have a quick, efficient discussion about the situation. It sounds like familiar ground for them, and they talk in a sort of casual shorthand that speaks of long experience and close teamwork. Then Todoroki’s hand slides off your head, taking the soothing cold with it, and he gives you a polite nod before rising gracefully and stalking towards the frozen man.

Midoriya leans forward immediately, the hand on your shoulder sliding around your back.

“I’m gonna get you inside the agency, okay?” he says gently, and you can’t help but return his reassuring smile.

“Okay, but I really am fine, I just need an ice pack or someth-oop!” You squawk as Midoriya slides his other arm under your legs, and picks you up effortlessly. You automatically fling an arm around his neck for balance as he starts walking to the agency, your face burning hot with the sudden contact.

“Midoriya, I can walk fine,” you start to protest, but are silenced by his breezy smile.

“Oh, I’m sure, but I’m still going to carry you anyway.” He has the grace to look a little sheepish under your stare. “Um, just think of it as my heroic duty, okay?”

You want to fight him on it more, but your head is aching, and there’s a stubborn set to his jaw that suggests it won’t be much use. He huffs out a pleased breath when you relax into his hold, letting your sore head bump down to rest on his shoulder, rather than straining your neck to hold it up.

“Where are we going, anyway?”

“Just into the office for now. We have a first aid kit there and can call for more help if we need it. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you.” The arm around your back squeezes you ever so slightly.

You laugh weakly. “I wasn’t worried about that in the slightest.” Midoriya glances down at you, amused, and you feel his responding laugh vibrate through his chest.

Vision half-filled with Midoriya, you don’t see much of the agency building you pass through as he takes you swiftly through, but you catch an impression of modern, friendly decor with lots of clean glass and colours. It’s quiet inside, and nobody disturbs Midoriya’s progress, for which you are pathetically grateful. You can admit to yourself, at least, that it’s quite nice being carried, but the embarrassment of being seen like this by any strangers might just have caused your soul to leave your body.

Midoriya brings you into a light, open area that seems to be some sort of common room. There is a kitchen space at one end of the room, with stools around a large island, and at the other is a selection of mismatched sofas, armchairs and beanbags surrounding a TV and a selection of games consoles. One wall of the room is given over to full length windows looking out onto the city, letting the sunlight flood in.

“And this is your workplace?”

Midoriya laughs when he looks down at your wide eyes. “Yeah! Well, kind of anyway! We have normal office space too, but sometimes we just need to cool off together after patrol and things, you know?”

He deposits you gently on a large sofa, then trots over to the kitchen. You hear him rooting around in various cupboards as you gaze around the room. There are signs of people in here - a coffee cup left on a side table, a hoodie strewn across the back of a chair - and it feels surprisingly homely. It makes sense, you think. Heroes must have to spend so many hours at their agencies that they need a comfortable space to relax in.

You’re busy admiring the view from the windows when Midoriya hurries back over to you, arms full, and sits down next to you.

“Um, okay, first of all, are you allergic to anything?” You shake your head, then wince, and his brows crease in concern. “Does it hurt a lot? Here, I have some pain relief and a bottle of water for you - take two of those, and I’ll have a look at your head, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, thank you so much.”

Obediently swallowing the pills he gives you, you drink at least half of the water before putting it aside, then shuffle around so your back is facing Midoriya. You feel the sofa cushion dip a little as he leans forward, and then gentle fingers probe at your head, tracing over the lump of your injury.

“Ouch, that’s a big bump you’ve got there,” he murmurs sympathetically. “Must’ve been a hard hit. Luckily, there’s no bleeding or anything, so I think you’re okay to just ice it on and off to keep the swelling down.”

Midoriya turns you back around with an encouraging hand on your arm, then indicates for you to sit back and let your head rest against the sofa back. He slides a medical ice pack, wrapped in a soft, clean towel, under your head, and you sigh as the cold starts to seep into your skin.

“How does that feel?”

“Nice, thank you. Feels good on my head.” You tilt your head just a little to catch his eye, a rueful smile on your face. “I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

He waves his hands hurriedly. “No! Don’t be sorry, please, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“But we’ve been relying on you so much-“ You cut yourself off with a gasp as a sudden thought occurs to you.

Midoriya sees your sudden worry, and instantly tenses. “What is it?”

“My bag! I left it outside, and there was some stuff in it for you.”

For the second time that day, you are saved by the sound of Todoroki’s calm voice from behind you. “If this is your bag, then I have it right here.”

Midoriya jumps, throwing a startled look over the back of the sofa. “Ah! Shouto!”

Todoroki laughs, a quiet but surprisingly warm noise. “Izuku, what happened to your situational awareness, hm?”

To your delight, Midoriya pouts, his cheeks turning a little pink as he makes some noises of protest, and Shouto chuckles again.

He comes around the sofa so that you can both see him without having to crane your neck backwards, and lays your bag on the sofa next to you before dropping into a chair himself, crossing his legs languidly. “That guy is all dealt with now. Turns out he was a petty thief, and a repeat offender, so you’ve done the neighbourhood a favour,” he says, offering you a small smile.

“He can’t have been a very good criminal if he chose his target neighbourhood to be right next to a hero agency,” you answer with a small grin, satisfied to hear that the man has had his comeuppance.

“What actually happened out there? How did you get hurt?” Midoriya has a little frown on his face when you look at him.

“Um, it’s a bit silly really,” you start, and he furrows his eyebrows questioningly. “Well, basically I just got myself involved in a risky situation again. I was just outside the hero agency, and heard a commotion. Then that guy came sprinting down the pavement, and people were shouting that he was a thief and I figured he needed to be stopped, so I just kind of… got in his way?” You wince at the memory, one hand drifting up to feel at the back of your head. “We both went down pretty heavy, and I smacked my head on the pavement. And then he was going to get away, so I, um-“

“Smashed a whole cake in his face?” Todoroki offers, and though his expression doesn’t change much, you see his eyes light up as he watches a comical flurry of emotions cross Midoriya’s face before he settles on a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

You sigh. “Yeah, that’s about it. I’m really mad though, because that cake was for you, Midoriya, to say thank you for helping out at the home. It was homemade!”

Midoriya’s head whips around to stare at you, eyes wide. “You made me a cake?”

“Yeah,” you say sadly, “It was frosted in All Might’s colours, and everything. And then I just had to go and ram it in a random criminal’s face.” You scowl, looking between the two heroes. “But to be honest, I’d do it again. That guy was pretty scary. He had a claw quirk, so I figure he must’ve threatened his victims, right?”

Todoroki nods, looking serious. “Yes. The bag he took today was from an elderly woman he pulled into an alley and threatened.”

“Then I’m glad the cake was ruined if it was to stop him!”

Todoroki’s face suddenly goes suspiciously blank. His mismatched eyes slide slowly to Midoriya, who, for some reason, groans and slaps a hand to his own forehead. “I guess you could say he-“

“Shouto, no!”

“- got his just desserts,” Shouto finishes, completely deadpan.

There is a moment of silence, and then you can’t help the peal of laughter that bursts out of you, Midoriya intermittently groaning and joining your laughter. Todoroki just sits there with a smug air, expression unchanged except for a small, lopsided smile.

You wait until you can catch Todoroki’s eye, then give him an innocent smile that has him raising one eyebrow.

“Actually, I’m surprised at how easy it was to take him down,” you say lightly, then turn a wicked grin on Midoriya. “I guess you could say it was-”

Midoriya’s eyes widen and he shakes his head frantically. “Oh god!”

“-a piece of cake!” You share a triumphant look with Todoroki as Midoriya laughs helplessly, holding a hand over his eyes in despair.

“It is a shame though,” Todoroki murmurs after thinking for a moment. “I guess it’s true what they say…” His gaze slides to Midoriya, an awful gleam in his eyes. “...you can’t have your cake and eat it.”

“Nooo!” Midoriya hides his face in his hands, slumping down in his seat with a moan, and quivering with a pained laugh. You cackle, wincing when the laughter starts to hurt your sore head.

You wipe a tear away, trying to catch your breath. “That… was really terrible,” you say honestly, figuring that Todoroki seems to be the kind of person who appreciates straightforwardness.

Midoriya flops back on the sofa with a chuckle. “Oh, he’s actually doing better recently. You should’ve heard him six months ago.” He shoots a grin at his friend, who just rolls his eyes, though you don’t think there’s really any menace in the gesture. “How are you feeling now, by the way?”

You lift your head experimentally. “Still sore, but the throbbing headache has subsided a bit, so I think the pain relief must be working. Thanks again.”

Todoroki leans forward in his chair, brushing some strands of red hair out of his face. “It didn’t seem too bad, but you should probably have someone with you for the next 24 hours, just in case you start to show signs of concussion, even mild.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I was going to go home, but I live alone. It’s probably fine though, I don’t feel bad now except for the sore bump.”

Midoriya makes a small sound of concern, and turns to you. “No, no, Shouto’s right, you shouldn’t be alone after a head injury, just in case! Is there anyone you can stay with for tonight?”

You hesitate, stomach churning with discomfort. Midoriya already knew you didn’t have family, but it was horrible to have to admit out loud that you didn’t have any friends, either. “Uh, not really. I’ll be alright, though. I’ll call the hospital if I feel weird.”

Sitting upright now, Midoriya fixes you with an intent look, his green gaze pinning you to the sofa cushions. “I will take you home and stay with you.” His mouth firms when you start to protest. “No, I mean it, you shouldn’t be alone! I won’t get in the way, I promise, I’ll just be there to make sure you’re okay.”

“No, I can’t ask you to do that.”

He puts his hand over yours for a second, his calloused palm warm against the backs of your fingers. “You didn’t ask, I offered. Please, let me do this for you, I’ll just worry otherwise.”

You glance at Todoroki, uncertain whether this is appropriate, but he just gives you a small nod, looking serious again.

“Um, okay then.”

Midoriya looks relieved at your acquiescence, and beams at you, eyes creasing with the force of his smile. “Great! I’ll just grab some things from my office, and then we can go.”

You nod and then relax your head back onto the ice pack as you wait for him to be ready. How, you wonder silently, did you get yourself into a situation which involved a top Pro Hero spending the night at your tiny, shabby little apartment?

Chapter Text

Having decided on his plan of action, Midoriya hustles you through the next couple of hours, guiding you with a concerned smile and a firm hand. After getting together a small duffle bag for himself and changing out of his hero costume, he gathers up a fresh ice pack and insists you shouldn’t take the train home, despite your protests that you’re fine.

Todoroki chips in his agreement with Midoriya, and between them, the two heroes kindly bully you into ordering a taxi, despite the distance. Midoriya takes care of everything, hovering anxiously as you climb into the car, tucking the ice pack behind your head, and outright refusing to let you pay for the journey. You feel hot as you try to argue with him, embarrassed that he is spending so much money on you, but there is a glint in his eyes that says he won’t let you win. The sweet smile he gives you when you concede softens the awkwardness considerably. He asks the driver to stop on the way, and disappears into a nearby shop, returning shockingly fast with a bag of groceries and a small crowd of excited shoppers following him, who have clearly recognised Deku despite his casual clothes.

Pulling up outside your apartment building is a relief, the familiar sight of home like a balm for your sore head, and you lead Midoriya inside without hesitation. He follows you obediently, carrying his bags with ease and looking around with a cheerful curiosity.

“Um, just to warn you, I don’t know how tidy it is. I wasn’t exactly planning on having visitors,” you say when you reach your door, pausing with the key in the lock.

“Oh, please, don’t worry! I don’t mind untidiness. In fact, Shouto is always telling me off for the clutter at my place.” Midoriya gives you an unabashed grin, and you chuckle as you unlock the door. It seems wonderful, the relationship Midoriya has with his hero friends; they are close enough to scold and tease, and clearly trust each other implicitly. They are really something special, and you wonder whether being heroes together, getting into situations that you could only imagine, fostered a kind of relationship that was impossible to replicate in normal life.

Shaking yourself out of your musings, you take off your shoes and welcome Midoriya in, wasting no time in glancing round your apartment with a critical eye while your guest is busy taking off his own shoes. There are dishes waiting to be done, and there’s certainly a fair amount of lived-in clutter strewn across your living space, but luckily it isn’t outright dirty.

“Please make yourself at home, and help yourself to whatever you need, if I have it,” you say to Midoriya, who is standing a little shyly in the entrance. It is strange to see him there, this strong, athletic figure in your little space.

“I’ll try not to get in your way too much!” he says with a smile, and then glances down at his grocery bag. “Actually, I was thinking maybe I could cook dinner?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, you’re the guest!”

Midoriya shakes his head earnestly. “Please, I want to! My mum would always make me katsudon after a hard day. I’m not the best cook in the world, and there’s no way I can match her cooking, but it’s the one thing I’ve learned how to make properly.” He steps forward, glancing at your kitchen and then back at you pleadingly. “I’d really like to?”

There’s no way you can resist his polite urging, so you shake your head with a smile, shoulders slumping as you relax. “Okay, that would be really nice, thank you.”

In truth, it does sound good; home cooking to soothe your tattered nerves after a long day. With your head still hurting despite the pain relief, you definitely don’t feel like cooking yourself, and Midoriya’s offer certainly beats ordering in.

“Great!” Midoriya straightens up, beaming out his pleasure with a sort of radiance that makes him both hard to look at, and hard to look away from.

You try to kickstart your thoughts back into practicality instead of just smiling at him stupidly. “Do you mind if I leave you for a bit and take a shower? I’m filthy from the pavement and the cake and everything. Obviously you can use the shower or whatever you need later, as well!” It’s horrible how embarrassed you feel offering Midoriya your shower; you’re a grown adult, you should be able to host someone at your home without getting flustered.

“Oh, of course, take your time. Don’t worry about me! The katsudon will take a little while to cook, anyway,” Midoriya says quickly, ducking his head, and you wonder whether you’re imagining the pink on his cheeks.

“Okay, thank you. Well, feel free to use anything in the kitchen, and I’ll be just through there if you need anything.”

Midoriya nods his assent, and takes his bags of groceries into your small kitchen space, where he immediately starts unpacking ingredients. He is humming quietly under his breath, and you smile when you recognise the theme tune to the All Might cartoon you both love.

You drop your bag carelessly by the door, then gather some clean clothes from your bedroom, and head into the bathroom. It is a relief to lock the door and know that you are fully alone, and for a couple of minutes you just sit on the edge of the bath, staring at your hands and taking a moment just to be silent and breathe. Midoriya and Shouto had been so kind looking after you that you hadn’t really processed the whole incident.

“Stupid,” you whisper to yourself. What had you been thinking, stepping out into a villain’s path? Sure, he had turned out just to be a petty criminal, but you hadn’t known that at the time, and it wasn’t like you had a quirk that could help you defend yourself, or even any experience of fighting.

Eventually, aware that Midoriya is on his own in your apartment, you heave a sigh and let the self-criticism slither back into its hole inside you.

The shower helps to rinse away the negativity, hot water flowing over your tired body. You find several more sore spots, small bruises and grazes from your uncushioned fall, and the water stings a bit as it cleanses them. You're gentle with your head, but it still throbs painfully in the heat, and you hurry to finish so you can ice it again.

Dressed in some comfortable clothes and blessedly free of cake remains, you finally leave the bathroom. The apartment already smells delicious with Midoriya's cooking, and you feel hunger growl in your stomach.

"Midoriya? How are you doing?" you call, rounding the corner into the kitchen, and abruptly stop in your tracks.

Midoriya is in front of the stove, still humming to himself, and idly prodding at the tonkatsu as it fries. His sweatshirt sleeves are rolled up just past his elbows, displaying well-muscled forearms embellished with scars. He has somehow found your apron, a ridiculous thing with bright polka dots and a frill around the edge that you had received as a joke secret Santa gift one year, and is wearing it unabashedly. He turns his head at the sound of your voice, and throws you a bright smile over one shoulder.

"Hey! It'll just be a little longer, I hope that's okay?"

He is so cute, so bright standing there in your kitchen with his muscles and his sweet smile and your dotty apron. Your stomach flips. There's no avoiding it now, the fact that has been skirting around the edges of your thoughts for a while: you are undoubtedly attracted to Midoriya.

"Uh," you say, mouth dry. "Yep, that's fine and dandy. I'll just, um, be right back."

Ignoring Midoriya's slight look of concern, you back clumsily around the corner, lean against the wall, and press your flushed face into your hands.

"Fine and dandy?" you mouth silently, screwing your face up in disgust. "Oh god."

Midoriya is hot. There’s simply no avoiding that. Even worse, he’s cute. And of course he is, he’s an attractive and powerful hero with a radiant and endearing personality, you had always known and acknowledged that from the start. You just hadn’t figured on your objective appreciation turning into a much more personal crush.

You slap your cheeks and hiss out a long breath. “This is fine,” you whisper. “A crush is nothing, it’s normal to be attracted to your super cute friends sometimes. It’ll go away, I just gotta ignore it.”

And that was the point, wasn't it? You had promised Uraraka that you would be a good friend to him, and you truly wanted to follow through on that promise. Not to mention that Midoriya was a hero, and you couldn’t exist in his world like he existed in yours. So you just had to acknowledge this silly little crush, and then keep your cool for a while until it passed.

You mentally latch onto your pep talk, psych yourself up with a decisive nod, and then march back around the corner and into the kitchen.

Midoriya gives you a long, wide-eyed look that makes you wonder how flustered you appear. “Is everything alright? How are you feeling, is your head getting worse? Maybe I should check your pupils, make sure everything still looks normal. Concussion symptoms can be delayed, and-”

“Midoriya, I’m fine, but thank you,” you interrupt gently, hearing his sympathetic words turn in the direction of true concern. “Just left something in my bedroom, that’s all.”

He lets out a long breath. “Okay, good! Just, let me know if you feel worse, okay?”

Midoriya fetches you the ice pack, which he had thoughtfully stored in your freezer while you showered, and whisks around your kitchen as he finishes cooking. In no time at all, he has you both sat at your tiny table, katsudon steaming delightfully in front of you. It is savoury and comforting and absolutely delicious, and when you tell him as much, he practically shines with pleasure. You avert your eyes, trying not to stare at his freckles.

"Ah, I'm glad you like it! Katsudon is my favourite." He chuckles, looking down into his bowl. "I had quite a lot of bad days when I was younger, so we ended up eating it quite a lot."

It is hard to decipher his tone and expression, but you think there is a kind of wistfulness there, like a sadness for his past self. Curiosity rises up in you, but you're not certain whether his words were an invitation for discussion, or just quiet reflection, so you decide to play it safe.

"Yeah, I can't imagine growing up with a strong quirk like yours was easy, you must have been breaking stuff all over the place," you say lightly, making sure to catch his eye when you smile, so that he knows you are teasing.

Midoriya returns your smile without hesitation. "Oh, actually the hardest part of growing up for me was the opposite!"

You frown and tilt your head to one side, unable to query with your mouth full of rice and crispy pork.

"I didn't get my quirk until I was fourteen," Midoriya explains. "So for most of my childhood, everyone, myself included, thought I was-"

"Quirkless," you finish for him, eyes wide. He meets your gaze directly, nodding slightly in confirmation. You put your chopsticks down, trying to take in this sudden revelation. Midoriya, a hero with such a hugely powerful and wonderful quirk, had grown up quirkless. It somehow feels right, you decide. He was always respectful, and the way he had accepted your own quirklessness without pity or disdain now makes perfect sense.

You don’t understand the science of him developing such a late quirk, but you decide it’s not really important. The pieces of what he has told you start to slot together as you think it all over; a quirkless childhood, and a history of having lots of difficult days. You certainly know your own experience of a quirkless childhood. Suddenly understanding the implication, you look up at him quickly.

"You… Midoriya, were you bullied? For being quirkless, I mean."

You worry whether your question was too direct, but Midoriya doesn't seem to mind. "Yes," he says simply, holding your gaze in that unwavering way of his that welcomes you into the openness and honesty in his eyes. "You know I mentioned that Kacchan and I were childhood friends? Well, it was a little more complicated than that." He makes a wry expression that wrinkles his nose.

Your breath catches. "Dynamight bullied you?"

"Um, I guess you could call it that, yes." He looks at you hesitantly, and you gesture your encouragement for him to keep talking.

You listen carefully as Midoriya explains. He tells you about his friendship with Bakugou when they were little, and how it had twisted and grown sour when the other boy got his explosive quirk. He tells you about Bakugou's pride and rage, and his own dream of being a hero. He tells you about the children, the teachers, the adults — all the people in his life who didn't believe in him.

Eventually, he tails off as the story brings him to UA. Midoriya is looking down at his bowl, but watching you from under his eyelashes, as though anxious about your response. Throat closing with emotion, you take a long swallow of water before you can respond. Your hand clenches into a fist on the table, and he winces.

"But, you know, Kacchan and I have worked hard over the years to fix everything between us, and he's grown so much, into the hero I always knew he could be. He's not the same person he was as a boy. We’re friends now, and he's still short tempered and fiery, but he's not a bully anymore. I've always believed people are more than their pasts, I guess?" Midoriya is babbling, you think, hurrying to reassure you.

You take a slow, purposeful breath. "Of course. People change," you say evenly. "Everybody grows and matures, though not everyone grows in a good way. It's amazing that you were able to repair your relationship so well, that says a lot about both of you, I think." Indignant fury bubbles up unprompted in your chest, and you clench your fist again. "But my god, Midoriya, hearing all of that makes me so angry."

He inhales sharply, biting his lip as his eyes dart around your face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. I don't want to assume anything, but you must have some unpleasant memories too, right?"

"Yeah, I do, but that's not what I mean." You lean forward across the table. "Midoriya, you were let down in so many ways by the adults around you. Both of you were. They not only failed to protect you, but they were the problem! They perpetuated bullying and discrimination and hate, when education should be a safe space from that. Honestly, they're just lucky that you’re you, and so they didn’t crush your spirit completely! And they failed Bakugou, too. A child needs boundaries, support and guidance, not to have their ego stroked by adults who should know better!" Exhaling roughly, you grab your glass and take another swallow of water to give your fury time to die back a little.

When you look back up at Midoriya, slightly embarrassed by your outburst, you're taken aback by the intensity of his expression. He stares at you, green eyes wide and shining, like he’s never seen you before. You determinedly ignore the way your heart skips.

“You think… we were both let down?” he breathes, voice soft.

“Yes,” you say firmly. Part of you is a little worried about taking this stand - you absolutely don’t want Midoriya to think you are excusing what Bakugou did, because you’re not - but this is something you feel very strongly about.

Midoriya lets out a puff of breathy laughter, still staring at you, and shakes his head subtly. You are relieved to see a small smile quirk the corners of his mouth. “Nobody has ever said that to me before. Nobody has ever… realised, I think. Kacchan hurt me, and I hated it, but I never hated Kacchan himself, not truly. I think I always knew that in his own way, he was hurting, too.” His smile grows wider. “You’re really amazingly insightful, to see all of that just from what I told you.”

Face growing hot under his flattering attention, you clear your throat awkwardly. “Ah, no, it’s just that I’m kind of passionate about this kind of thing, I guess? Actually, you’re the insightful one. I don’t think most people can empathise with their bullies like you have.” Glad to turn the attention off yourself and back onto Midoriya, you fix him with a smile. “And it’s really amazing, it shows how strong you are, to come through all of that and be as positive as you are - at least on the outside, anyway.”

“Um, I don’t think I’m-“ Midoriya is blushing, pink rising under his freckles. “I mean, thank you, but I really think that you are…” he trails off as you start to laugh, and cocks his head questioningly at you.

“Midoriya, if we keep doing this then we’ll be here all night, because I am not going to give in on this one. I will literally fight you if I have to, and I’m pretty sure you have the advantage there.”

A wide grin spreads across his face, lighting up his expression with amusement. “Right,” he laughs, “I guess we’ll have to just agree to disagree; I think you’re amazing, and you think I’m amazing.”

Something warm erupts in your chest at the directness of this statement, and you have to tear your eyes away from his smile. “Exactly,” you say, hoping that your voice sounds light and casual. “Agree to disagree.”

Seeking a reprieve, you stack up the now empty bowls and begin to clear the table. Midoriya immediately stands and starts helping, but you swat him away gently with both your words and hands, determined to pull at least some of your weight after everything he’s done for you today. After a minute of light-hearted arguing, you finally manage to persuade him to go and take a shower while you take care of the dishes.

Alone in the kitchen, listening to the faint sound of the shower running and Midoriya humming, you heave a massive sigh into the bowl of washing-up water. You are certain this crush will go away given enough time, but, god, Midoriya is not making it easy in the meantime.

“Stupid heroes and their stupid attractiveness,” you mutter to a bowl as you swish it through the lemon-fresh bubbles. “Just let the rest of us mere mortals live in peace, won’t you?”

You finish cleaning the kitchen, and are ensconced on the sofa with your ice pack and yet more All Might reruns when Midoriya returns from the bathroom. He has changed into more comfortable clothes - soft looking joggers with an oversized, well-worn Red Riot t-shirt - and his hair is still slightly damp, weighed down by water and curling against the nape of his neck. You ignore how fresh and cosy he looks, and indicate the other end of the sofa in a quiet invitation.

“Hey, Midoriya, can I ask you a question?”

He sits comfortably, leaning against the arm of the sofa and turning to you with an open expression.

“Of course!”

You point at the TV solemnly. “Does All Might use teeth whitener?”

Midoriya stares blankly at you for a second, completely perplexed, and then a bright grin spreads across his face. Stifling a chuckle behind his hand, he struggles to match your deadpan, serious expression, then pulls his eyebrows down into a mock frown, tapping one finger on his lip thoughtfully.

“Hmm, well, certainly his smile is abnormally bright, and it is, of course, part of his signature persona. Though there is no real proof either way, seeing as he was so dedicated to his work as a hero, I think we can draw the conclusion that he would make an effort to maintain his dental health and appearance. So, the only remaining question is whether the whiteness of his teeth is genetic, or curated.”

“Indeed, indeed.” You stroke your chin. “If only there were some incontrovertible proof.”

Midoriya straightens up so suddenly it almost startles you. “Perhaps there is!” He says, and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He starts typing immediately, and you stare at him in delighted disbelief.

“Um, Midoriya, are you… are you texting All Might right now?”

“Yep!” He says cheerfully, watching his phone expectantly. “He’s always at home this time of night, so I’m sure he will-“ His phone dings. “Oh! Right on time!”

“What did he say?” You lean forward eagerly, a laugh dancing in the back of your throat, and the ice pack slides down your back.

Midoriya scans the message quickly, then looks up at you, shared amusement sparkling across his face. “He says that he brushes and flosses regularly, always goes to the dentist on time, and uses a good toothpaste.”

The laugh finally bubbles out of your throat, and you flop back in your seat, looking at Midoriya in wonder. “That’s surprisingly normal. But wait, more importantly, I can’t believe you just texted All Might to ask about his teeth, and he actually answered!”

Midoriya shrugs easily, sliding his phone back into his pocket after typing a quick reply. “Oh, he’s used to it, I’ve pretty much catalogued his entire body and life by now, so he’s had much weirder questions from me.”

You mentally file that intriguing statement away for further investigation at a later time, and focus on your current curiosity. “So you being his successor isn’t just a publicity thing? You two actually know each other well?”

Midoriya smiles fondly. “Oh gosh, yes! Aside from my fanboy obsession with him growing up, All Might has been my mentor and friend since I started at UA. He’s one of the pillars of my life at this point.” He shoots you a sideways look, his grin turning sheepish. “Doesn’t mean I’m any less of a fan, though.”

You laugh, relaxing back into your seat and adjusting the ice pack so it sits behind your head again. “I expected nothing less.”

The conversation lapses into a comfortable silence, and you both turn to idly watch cartoon All Might, bursting with muscles and charisma, as he takes down yet another super villain. In the corner of your eye you can see Midoriya's lips moving slightly, as if he is mouthing along with the words, and you lean your chin in your hand to hide a smile.

It’s so relaxing, just sitting with Midoriya and watching cartoons, occasionally chatting idly about nothing in particular. Every so often, Midoriya pipes up with a random fact about All Might, or one of the other heroes featured as guest stars, and you soak it all up with interest. Quirks and heroes have never been so interesting to you as they are when he is explaining them with his warm enthusiasm. He gets up in between episodes to fetch you water, pain relief, or just to check on your bump with light fingertips.

In the middle of All Might pulling a very fluffy puppy out of a river, you feel your phone buzz, and note with curiosity that Midoriya is pulling his phone out too. You squint at the screen, which is glaringly bright in the current dimness of the room.

Uraraka added you to a new group chat.

Uraraka added Midoriya and one unknown number to the group chat.

Uraraka [8:42pm]
Hey! It's Uraraka, I added Deku and Shouto too, I hope that's okay :)

You [8:42pm]
Hi Uraraka, yes of course that's okay!

Uraraka [8:43pm]
So Shouto told me about what happened today, are you okay?! Deku, you gotta keep checking for concussion!!

On the sofa next to you, Midoriya makes an indignant noise at his phone, and immediately starts typing furiously. Biting back a smile, you take the opportunity to save Todoroki's number into your phone.

Midoriya [8:43pm]
Urarakaaaa! Of course I'm checking for concussion! That's head injuries 101!

Todoroki [8:44pm]
To be fair, Izuku, you do have a terrible history with injuries yourself, so it's natural we would want to check.

Uraraka [8:44pm]
Pffft, wasted!

Midoriya [8:45pm]
SHOUTO!! Guys, you're so mean! I've only got a bad history with injuries on myself, I'm always careful with other people!

You [8:45pm]
Haha, I'm fine, thank you. Midoriya is taking good care of me!

Todoroki [8:46pm]
I'm glad to hear that. Make sure you keep icing that bump.

Todoroki [8:46pm]
You're not one of Izuku's bones, so you're probably safe in his care.

Uraraka [8:46pm]
Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Midoriya [8:46pm]
Shoutooo!!? As if you can talk, Hand Crusher!!

Uraraka [8:47pm]
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Uraraka [8:47pm]
... Anyway boys, I didn't make this group to talk about you two, I wanna talk about what happened today!!

You [8:48pm]
Haha it was nothing that special, I'm afraid, just me being reckless.

Todoroki [8:48pm]
Hmm, I don't know, that 'mashing cake in the villain's face' maneuver was quite effective.

Midoriya [8:48pm]
Don't sell yourself short, what you did was super brave!

Uraraka [8:49pm]
Argh, I can't believe I didn't see it!! By the sounds of it, we have the makings of a new sidekick in our midst!

Midoriya [8:50pm]
I agree! There's no mistaking that heroic instinct!

Todoroki [8:51pm]
'The Super Sweet Hero: Cake Masher'?

Uraraka [8:51pm]
Adorable and badass!! Though I think it should be Cake for short, it's catchier! Or maybe Sweet?

Midoriya [8:52pm]
That's cute!

Uraraka [8:52pm]
Anywayyy we shouldn't keep you looking at your phone screen for too long, don't want any headaches, so hope your bump gets better soon, and make sure you let Deku take care of you properly!! Bye Sweet! (or Cake?!)

Todoroki [8:52pm]
Yes, we might joke around, but Izuku does know what he's doing. Take care.

You [8:53pm]
Thank you both! :)

You finally look up from your phone and grin at Midoriya's slightly harassed-looking expression.

"Your friends are so nice," you say, and he smiles back at you reluctantly, then wrinkles his nose.

"They're very nice, but they're also bullies! I'll tell you about the Hand Crusher one day when Shouto deserves to be punished more."

"I look forward to it, then!" You snicker at his wicked grin, and settle back down to the TV.

After a while, the ice pack starts to make you feel chilly, so you fish out your largest blanket and stretch it out across the sofa. Midoriya looks surprised at first, but then tucks himself under the end with a grateful smile. Curled up like that, warm and tired, the apartment filled with the pleasant sounds of the TV and Midoriya's soft voice, your eyelids grow heavy and languid, until they eventually drift closed.

You doze on and off for an indeterminate time, until a gentle hand on your arm rouses you, and you find Midoriya smiling down at you.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he says, as you blink yourself more awake. "You should get to bed before you fall asleep here and get a sore neck as well as a sore head."

"Mm," you manage before a huge yawn cracks your jaw. Midoriya's eyes crinkle with his smile. "Sorry for being a rubbish host."

Heaving yourself off the sofa, Midoriya's supportive hand on your arm making most of the effort for you, you shuffle sleepily towards the cupboard that holds your spare bedding.

"Don't be silly, you don't need to host me, I'm here to look after you!" Midoriya follows along behind you and politely snags the pillow and sleeping bag out of your hands as soon as you pull them out. "Anyway, I've had a really nice evening, so you've got nothing to worry about."

Too tired to argue, you just smile gratefully at him, and help arrange the sofa cushions into a makeshift bed for him on the floor, which is far less cramped than sleeping on the sofa itself. Eventually satisfied that he will be as comfortable as you can make him with your limited resources, you stand back and rub at your tired eyes.

"Um, help yourself to anything you need in the bathroom or kitchen or whatever, and feel free to use any of the blankets if you get cold. This apartment is kind of drafty sometimes."

"Thank you, I'll be fine, I'm sure!" Midoriya smiles, and then reaches out and rests his fingertips on your shoulder in a brief, comforting gesture. "Please make sure you come and wake me, or call me, if you feel bad or weird, or anything other than normal, during the night, okay?" He fixes you with an intent look. "I mean it. Even if it's a false alarm, I'd rather you wake me up anyway. Will you do that for me?"

"Okay," you hear yourself say obediently, completely transfixed by the depths of concern in his green, green eyes. You turn your head quickly before you can start staring. "Thank you. So, I guess I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah, see you in the morning," he says with a gentle smile. "Good night!"

"Good night, Midoriya."

After brushing your teeth rather haphazardly, you get yourself into bed as fast as your sleepy limbs can manage. You can hear quiet noises as Midoriya moves around the apartment, getting himself ready for bed, and the thought that he will be sleeping just one room away from you almost has you blushing before you catch yourself and shove that thought away mercilessly. Curling up under the covers with a sigh, you close your eyes. The sooner this silly crush goes away, the better.

Chapter Text

Izuku wakes suddenly, disoriented and groggy. There’s the tail end of a dream just slipping out of his mind, but he lets it go without trying to remember what it was - it’s usually best not to remember the ones that wake him up, he’s found. Jaw cracking with a huge yawn, he flexes his hands, always slightly stiff in the morning, and then rubs his eyes into wakefulness. The ceiling above him is unfamiliar, and it takes a moment to remember where he is. The second the realisation hits, he bolts upright, sleeping bag sliding off his torso as he hastily takes in the room. You must still be asleep, because the room is quiet and still, and Izuku relaxes again with a small sigh of relief. He is determined to make breakfast for you this morning, and suspects he would have no chance of doing so if you get to the kitchen first.

“First things first,” he mumbles to himself, unzipping the rest of his body out of the sleeping bag. “Gotta head to the bathroom, then I can make breakfast.”

Izuku has gotten better at not talking to himself so much over the years, but it is a habit that creeps back at times like this, first thing in the morning, when he is alone and sleepy and off guard. Knowing this, he makes sure to bite his lip as he pads towards the bathroom. Your bedroom door is directly opposite, and he absolutely does not want to wake you up by muttering, not when you need to be resting and healing.

That thought sharpens his mind into full wakefulness. Izuku hadn’t been woken at all in the night, so he should be able to assume you slept peacefully, but he can’t help but feel a pang of concern in his stomach. What if something had happened, and you just hadn’t wanted to bother him? He hovers anxiously outside your door for a moment, feet silent on the carpet and hands clenching at his sides, straining his ears for any sign of anything untoward.

There is no sound, of course, and so Izuku lets out a silent breath, then creeps into the bathroom, closing the door as gently as possible. Moving stealthily is second nature to him now, honed through years of training and hero work, but he has never been quite so grateful for it as he is right now. Izuku moves swiftly through his morning routine, wincing at the noises he can’t control, and biting his tongue every time the urge to hum or mutter creeps over him.

When he opens the bathroom door again, now feeling fresh and more presentable, there is still no sign of movement from your room. He feels a small smile of triumph creep over his face as he slips through to the kitchen, pleased that he hasn’t disturbed you. There isn’t much Izuku can do for you right now, but he can at least protect your sleep.

Izuku has long since accepted that the need to protect is part of his nature, driving him as a person and as a hero, but he has never felt it this strongly, like a visceral urge in his muscles, crackling through his veins like One for All. It's been burning in him ever since he first saw you there in the museum, standing fierce and trembling in front of a villain you couldn’t fight, terror and defiance written across your face, and it is only getting stronger. When he had seen you yesterday, sitting limp on the pavement with Shouto’s hand on your head and your eyes dazed, Izuku’s mind had gone blank with panic and a kind of reflexive, cold rage that scared him to remember. He is glad, at least, that both Uraraka and Shouto have met you now; he knows that he can trust them to look after you if anything happens when he isn’t around. Maybe he should bring some of his other friends to the home, just to be sure.

Izuku smiles, thinking of the children and how excited they were to meet Pro Hero Uravity, and how good Uraraka was with them. Filling the kettle and setting it to boil, he starts to make a mental list of who he could bring next, eyebrows furrowing in thought. Shouto would be a good option, though with their schedule this month, if Izuku and Shouto both wanted to go, then they would probably need to ask someone to cover one of their patrol shifts. Outside of his own agency, Kirishima was always hugely popular with children, and Izuku knew he would have a blast. Really, any of his old classmates who were still local would be amazing, including Kacchan; kids always flocked around Dynamight, somehow less scared of him than the adults were.

“Midoriya?”

Izuku jumps at the sound of your voice, and can feel his face already flushing as he whirls around. You’re standing barefoot by the short hallway leading to your bedroom and bathroom, blinking sleepily at Izuku.

“Oh! You startled me!” Izuku says with an embarrassed laugh, and his chest squeezes when you smile apologetically. You’re still in pyjamas, and you look so warm and mussed up with sleep, pillow creases still showing faint across one cheek. He’s never seen you look so unguarded and soft before, and the sweet intimacy of it has his heart racing. His cheeks are burning hot now, and he turns gratefully when the kettle reaches a boil, glad for the excuse to hide his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump. Can I get you anything?”

“No, no, I’m sorry if I woke you!” Izuku says hurriedly, fetching some mugs from the stack by the sink. “Um, don’t worry about me, I was just going to make some breakfast for us, I hope that’s okay?”

“Of course, thank you so much!” The note of pleased gratitude in your voice makes Izuku feel like he’s glowing inside.

Feeling a little calmer now, he turns to look at you again, and surveys you carefully for any sign of a lingering concussion from yesterday. Despite being sleepy, your eyes are bright and focused, lacking any dazedness that would have made him worry, and there is healthy colour in your cheeks.

“How are you feeling? How is your head?”

Your hand drifts up to the back of your skull, probing absent-mindedly. “Mm, it seems fine, just sore to touch. I feel fine otherwise though, thanks for asking.”

Izuku smiles brightly. “I’m so glad! It didn’t seem that bad, but head injuries still make me worry.” He motions questioningly to the row of tea and coffee jars on your kitchen counter, grabbing the one you indicate and filling both mugs. Fragrant steam rises up, and he inhales deeply with pleasure. “I’ll get some food started as well. It shouldn’t take too long, if you’re okay to eat soon?”

You give him a lazy grin, swiping a hand over your still-sleepy face. “I’m okay to eat at literally any time of the day, just give me a minute to get sorted and I’ll be right there.”

Izuku can’t help but reflect your grin right back, but it slides off his face when you disappear towards the bathroom, and he slumps heavily against the counter with a sigh. He fishes his phone from his pocket, pausing for a second before he decides who to text.

Izuku [8:07am]
UM HELP

Uraraka [8:07am]
What’s up Deku??

Izuku [8:07am]
You know what happens when you stay at someone’s house? PYJAMAS!? SLEEPY FACES!? Uraraka, I can’t do this, I swear my brain is just melting 24/7, what do I do??

Uraraka [8:08am]
AWwww Deku!! Cake is pretty darn cute, so I can see your problem! But you just gotta relax into it! Just enjoy spending time together, okay? Stop freaking yourself out for no reason!

Izuku [8:09am]
Aaah, you’re right! Okay, I’m just gonna go make breakfast and relax and spend time with my friend, like a normal person!

Uraraka [8:09am]
Atta boy!! TTYL :)

Uraraka [8:10am]
Also you definitely woke me up, so I expect an iced latte from you later, along with full details!!

Now chuckling, Izuku sends Uraraka an All Might thumbs up sticker, and then tucks his phone away again. His friends were experts by now at dealing with his minor freakouts, and they never failed to make him feel steadier. It was Izuku’s constant joy when his friends leaned on him in return.

He hums quietly as he sets to work on breakfast. Your kitchen - your whole apartment, actually - is small and a little haphazard, but Izuku thinks it feels very homely and comfortable to be in. There is a leggy basil plant on the kitchen windowsill, stretching towards the morning sun, and he gives it a small drink of water as he passes by, wondering what you like to cook with it.

The drinks are still steaming hot as Izuku serves up a simple breakfast of western style omelettes, with fruit salad and yoghurt with honey on the side. He is just adding some toast to the table, fidgeting with the position of all the dishes, when you come back through, now dressed and looking more awake. Your eyes light up when you see the breakfast, and Izuku feels a hum of satisfaction in his bones.

"This looks great, thank you so much!"

Izuku returns the grin that you flash him as you both slide into your seats. "Oh, it's not much really! It's the least I could do after you let me stay."

You level him with a look that has Izuku shuffling in his seat. "Midoriya, you’re the one who did me the favour by staying to check on me."

"Ah, I guess that's true. But it was for my own peace of mind really!" Izuku absolutely doesn't want you to feel in his debt, so he slides various dishes towards you as a distraction.

He watches you carefully as you both eat, chatting idly between mouthfuls, and keeps a watchful eye for any signs of pain or discomfort. Luckily, it seems that his initial assessment this morning was right, and Izuku doesn't find anything to be concerned about. Several times, however, he finds himself ducking his head with embarrassment after holding your gaze for a little too long; he just wants to check your pupils, but finds himself so easily distracted when your eyes meet.

Still, Izuku can't remember the last time he had such a nice start to the day, just basking in your presence and enjoying the friendly atmosphere. Uraraka was right, as usual, and he makes a mental note to buy her a muffin along with the promised iced latte. Just as he's wondering whether she'd prefer blueberry or chocolate chip, Izuku is startled out of his thoughts when you suddenly gasp and bolt upright in your chair. He tenses instinctively, feeling One for All humming just under his skin, ready to crackle to life.

"What's wrong?" He keeps his voice calm, but can't help the small frown of concern that creeps onto his face.

You flash him an excited look that has him releasing his tense fists. "I can't believe I forgot!"

There doesn't seem to be anything wrong, Izuku decides, so he relaxes again as you jump up and shoot towards your bag from yesterday, still untouched where you left it by the door.

"Forgot what?" He’s curious now, and leans forward to watch you root around in the bag while muttering excitedly to yourself.

You utter a noise of triumph, and pull out a wad of envelopes. "These!"

Izuku desperately tries not to find the way you hurry back to the table adorable, and instead focuses on the envelopes as you drop them in front of him. His breath catches when he sees the top one addressed to 'Hero Deku' in wobbly letters, and he looks up at you quickly.

You give him another wide smile. "They're for you, from the children! I meant to give them to you yesterday, but with everything that happened, I completely forgot."

"Oh, this is amazing!" Izuku shuffles through the pile, his heart light as he takes in the variety of handwriting styles and interesting spelling choices. Opening one at random, he squawks with surprise as a shower of glitter follows the card when he pulls it out. He instantly feels guilty about the sparkly mess that covers your floor despite his best attempt to contain it, but when he winces at you apologetically, you just laugh it off.

“Don’t worry about it, I come home absolutely covered at least once a week.”

Izuku tries his best not to imagine how cute you must look painted in glitter and sparkles, but he’s pretty certain you would give Aoyama a run for his money. “Ah, that’s an occupational hazard, I imagine?” he says with a smile, and runs his fingers over the bumpy lines of glitter pen on the card, picturing you at the home’s large dining table, children and craft supplies and smiles crowding around you.

“Yep, it’s physically impossible to come home unscathed by glitter, food, or various bruises, depending on the day.” You laugh, and then lean over to pick up the dishes still on the table. “I’ll put the kettle on again while you have a read through. There’s quite a lot, the kids were crazy excited to write to you.”

“They’re too cute!” Izuku manages through a throat suddenly growing suspiciously tight. He swallows surreptitiously, glad that you have walked into the kitchen and so can’t hear the audible noise. Izuku knows that he has fans, it’s part of being a Pro Hero after all, but the children at the home have already become special to him in such a short time, and it clutches at his heart every time he pictures their shining eyes gazing up at him. There is something in the way they look at him that reminds Izuku of himself; the way he would watch All Might’s rescues, brimming with excitement and hope even after he was told he was quirkless.

He sorts carefully through the pile of cards and letters, reading them slowly and soaking in the short but heartfelt messages, accompanied by little drawings and decorations.

‘Thank yoo for helping us!’

‘Wun day i want to bee a hero like Deku’

‘You are really cool and I like your green costume!!’

Izuku breathes carefully through his nose, trying to keep his composure as a wave of fondness and gratitude crashes over him. It’s like a dream still, even this many years on, to know that he is loved as a hero. Izuku doesn’t need public, or even private, acknowledgement of his achievements to feel like a hero, but reminders like this still bolster his spirit and resolve amazingly.

He reaches the card at the bottom of the pile, and carefully peels it out of an envelope which has been taped and glued very enthusiastically.

‘Dear Deku,’ it reads in what is clearly an adult’s neat handwriting. “Thank you for always saving me and being my friend. I was frightened after the octopus bad guy, but now I’m not afraid as much because I know that you are there to help us. Also, I want to be a hero too and punch bad guys. I already practice my punches on a teddy bear sometimes. I love you!!’ There is a large scrawl in orange felt tip at the bottom of the page, and if Izuku squints a bit he can read the name ‘Yuki’.

“Oh my god,” Izuku whispers, and knows he has lost the battle. He drops the card on the table, and buries his face in one hand as tears well up in his eyes.

He hears footsteps, and the clinking of mugs on the table, and then, “Midoriya? Are you okay?”

Izuku groans, dashing his palm against his eyes. Of course he would start the waterworks just in time for you to see. He chuckles damply and looks up into your concerned face across the table. “Sorry, I’m fine. Just a crybaby, like Uraraka said!”

The concern transforms into an understanding smile as you eye up the cards in front of him. “Did you reach Yuki’s card, by any chance? He was very specific when he dictated that message.”

“Well, that’s the second time he’s made me cry,” Izuku says, and is relieved when you share a grin with him. It’s not like he’s ashamed of crying, but there are plenty of people who would think less of a grown man - and a Pro Hero, no less - for melting into tears so easily. He should have known you wouldn’t be one of them, though.

You nod in understanding, cradling a steaming cup between your hands. “He’s a little terror, but he has this way of weaselling into people’s hearts.”

Izuku pulls his own mug towards him gratefully. “That’s for sure! Actually, I was thinking - if the home would like me to keep visiting, maybe I could bring some other heroes with me? I really enjoy it, and I know my other friends would too.”

The way you light up instantly has Izuku feeling very pleased with himself. “Of course, we’d all love that! Honestly, we’re so lucky to have you visiting so much as it is, you’re really spoiling us.” You hesitate then, and when you look up at Izuku he finds himself caught by the sudden determination flashing in your eyes. “But to be honest, those kids deserve all the spoiling they can get. If this is how I get it for them, then I’d face down a hundred more villains.” You laugh softly, but Izuku doesn’t think you’re joking. Admiring your resolve, he smiles gently.

“Well, you certainly don’t have to do that! If anything, I’ll be the one facing down the villains, so let me know if you find any more, okay?”

Izuku only knows the bare bones of your life - that you grew up in the care system yourself, quirkless and parentless - and he wonders what more there is to learn, what depths of experience and stories you have that have lead you to be such a passionate advocate for the children in your care. He’s told you several times that you have the heroic instinct, and he suspects you took it as a joke each time, but Izuku never meant it lightly. He quietly hopes that one day he’ll say it, and you’ll understand his sincerity.

The room lapses into a comfortable quiet, and Izuku sips his tea, gently flipping through his cards and admiring them all over again as you read something on your phone. The morning sun is still pouring through the kitchen window, and there is something deliciously cosy about the way it lights up the domestic space. Izuku wants nothing more than to stay exactly where he is all day, but he can see the clock on the wall spelling out his time to leave, and eventually he sighs.

“I, um, should probably get to the agency,” he says when you quirk an eyebrow at him.

“Right, of course! I’ll be going to work in a bit myself, so I guess we should both get ready.” You give him a wistful smile that Izuku returns with interest.

“Will you tell the children and everyone thank you? For the cards and everything, I mean. I really love them!” Izuku grabs his courage by the scruff of the neck and stretches out a hand, touching one of yours with his fingertips. “And thank you for the cake. I... was really touched that you did that for me.”

“Oh, that’s okay, it was nothing really. Maybe next time you’ll be able to eat some before I use it as a weapon.” You wrinkle your nose in a wry expression, and Izuku sees a faint flush rise on your cheeks. He pulls his hand back slowly, not wanting to startle or embarrass you.

“Hopefully you won’t need to use anything as a weapon again,” Izuku says, and can’t help the way his casual tone slides into something more steely. “Not if I’m there, anyway.” He’s been trying not to torture himself with the knowledge that he had been literally inside the building when you were right outside facing down a criminal, but the thought now stings like ice in his stomach.

“Yeah, I won’t hang about on the pavement in future,” you say lightly, and Izuku is grateful for the way your smile eases the knot building in him. “It’s straight in or out for me from now on!”

Unable to let the subject go quite yet, Izuku shifts a little in his seat. “Um. Listen, if you ever feel unsafe for any reason, even if nothing has happened, I want you to call me or text me.” He makes sure to catch your eye then, wanting you to take him seriously on this. “If you can’t reach me, contact Uraraka or Shouto, okay? We’re your friends now, so we want to know if something’s wrong. And if that’s not enough reason, then just remember that it is literally our job, so you don’t need to feel bad about disturbing us or anything!”

You’re staring at Izuku, and he feels himself start to blush, desperately hoping he hasn’t overstepped. But then you nod and gift him a small smile, and he knows it’s alright. It’s not that he really expects you to get into more trouble, but Izuku’s urge to protect wouldn’t let him leave without saying something.

“Okay, good,” he says, with relief, and drains the rest of his cup. “I really should go now, and let you get to your day.”

It only takes a minute to gather up his things - Izuku had only brought the simple overnight bag he keeps at the agency - and so in no time at all, he finds himself standing awkwardly at the doorway and smiling at you.

“Thanks again for looking after me, Midoriya. Will you tell Todoroki thank you, as well? I was lucky he came along when he did yesterday.”

Izuku fervently but silently agrees, mentally adding Shouto to his ‘coffee owed’ list. “Of course I will! And it was no trouble at all, I promise, for me or Shouto.”

He hesitates then, wanting to hug you goodbye, but to his delight you are already stepping forward. Izuku folds you into his arms, biting back a ridiculous smile as your arms wrap around his middle in return. Holding you feels amazing, and his eyes close as he squeezes you gently for the brief moment he allows himself. Then he releases you and steps back quickly, while it is still easy to do so.

“I’ll see you soon, hopefully! Take care, okay?” He says, already turning away to hide the redness he can feel burning on his cheeks.

“Thanks, you too, Midoriya. See you soon!”

Izuku can’t resist giving you a last wave before he hurries off towards the train station. He barely makes it round the corner before his phone is in his hand, dialling a familiar number. It rings twice before his call is answered.

“Hello, Izuku.” Shouto’s voice is lower than usual, and Izuku immediately suspects he may have woken his friend up.

“Good morning Shouto,” Izuku says, words spilling out of his mouth as he walks. “I think I might be going crazy.”

There’s a moment of silence before Shouto responds. “So you stayed the night, then?” His voice is as calm as ever, but Izuku knows him well enough to sense the tiny, evil smile on his face.

“Shouto, it was nothing like that!” Izuku groans, his free hand whipping up to rake through his hair. “It’s just, ugh, I don’t know. Isn’t it wrong for me to pretend at being friends when I have this, um…”

“Huge crush?” Shouto says, helpfully.

Izuku sighs. “Yeah, huge crush.”

“No, Izuku, it isn’t wrong. You’re allowed to feel whatever feelings you have for people. You’re the one that taught me that.” The teasing smile has gone from Shouto’s voice now, and he is talking in the low, steady way that always calms Izuku down. Izuku can hear the buzzing of Shouto’s coffee machine in the background. “And you’re not pretending at being friends, you are friends. Izuku, you’re allowed to just enjoy yourself and get to know each other. It doesn’t have to be a problem. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Uraraka said the same thing this morning,” Izuku admits, and hearing it from two of his friends is making it easier to believe again.

“Then you know I’m right.”

Izuku chuckles. “Yeah, I guess so. Thanks, Shouto.”

Shouto gives a small hum. “You’re welcome. Shall we have lunch together later? I think our patrol shifts overlap today, and I want soba from the place down the street.”

“Sure! I’ll buy it, as thanks for yesterday.”

“Alright, see you then.”

“Bye Shouto!”

Izuku hangs up, and takes a deep, cleansing breath of morning air. His friends are right; he is allowed to have friends, and feelings, and he resolves to just focus on enjoying any time he has with you, rather than panicking about what is happening in his heart.

It feels good to stretch his legs and his thoughts on the way to the station, with the sunshine filtering through the buildings, and Izuku finds that now his small freakout is dealt with, he is actually feeling quite energetic. Thinking he might be able to kill two birds with one stone, he pulls his phone out again. This call takes longer to be answered, but the voice on the other end is much more lively than Shouto’s.

“Hey Midoriya! Nice to hear from you, bro! How are you doing?”

Izuku finds himself grinning down the phone already. “Hi, Kirishima! I’m really good, thanks. So, I’ll get straight to the point; I have two ulterior motives for calling.” Kirishima makes a noise of interest, along with a crunching sound that Izuku thinks is probably toast. “Firstly, did you want to spar at some point today? Or work out, I don’t mind, just feeling energetic.”

Kirishima swallows his mouthful loudly. “Yeah, for sure, man! Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there!”

“Great! Secondly, how do you feel about visiting a children’s home with me soon?”

Izuku smiles at his friend’s answering enthusiasm, and knows he’s made the right choice. Red Riot will go down a treat with the children, and he’s certain Kirishima will get a kick out of it, too. Izuku is already looking forward to it. And, never one to lie to himself, Izuku can admit he is looking forward to seeing you even more.

Chapter Text

“Yeah! That’s super manly!” A small voice growls from the playroom as you pass by, on your way to the utility room with a basketful of laundry. You stifle a laugh as the faint but unmistakable sound of two small fists pounding together floats through the closed door in accompaniment.

Red Riot’s visit to the home was three days ago, and the children have not stopped talking about him since. Kirishima - the second he’d heard you call Midoriya by name, he had insisted with a grin that you do the same for him - had bowled into the home like a train of positivity, big and bold and delighting the children with his sheer energy and enthusiasm. He had played and told stories, and you’d had to swallow a lump in your throat when he play-wrestled with some of the children who had particularly dangerous quirks and weren’t normally allowed to roughhouse.

Midoriya had told you afterwards that Kirishima had immediately requested to come again, and you're starting to wonder whether you need to set up an official schedule for the visiting heroes, if things continue at this rate.

Midoriya himself has been messaging you regularly ever since the concussion incident, not just about the children’s home, but also to chat and share stories about your days. You smile to yourself now, thinking of the string of pictures he had sent you this morning, after discovering a particularly fluffy cat while on his patrol.

“Greetings, space cadet,” a quiet voice says in your ear, and you startle out of your trance with a loud squawk, almost dropping the laundry. Inaba is standing right behind you, and he gives you a lazy smile as you punch his arm gently in rebuke.

“God, you scared me!” you say, giving him a mock glare that has no effect at all.

“Well, you’ve been spaced out and staring at the washing machine for at least five minutes now, so I’m not sure what you expected.” Inaba shrugs one shoulder easily, leaning against the doorframe and watching with amusement as you start shoving clothes into the machine with embarrassment.

“Did you need something, or did you just come to bully me?”

Inaba smirks, then straightens up with a sigh. “No, the bullying was just a free bonus. I actually came to see if you knew where Yuki has got to - I need to take him to his doctor’s appointment in a bit, and he’s done a fabulous vanishing act.”

You finish loading the washing machine, and turn to him with a thoughtful frown. “I haven’t seen him since lunch, actually. I thought he was playing with Ueno and the babies?”

“Yeah, he got bored of that pretty quickly and said he was going to find you to talk about Deku, apparently.” Inaba raises one graceful eyebrow in a commiserate, long-suffering expression. Since finding out that Shouto and Deku had helped you when you hurt your head, Yuki hadn’t stopped jabbering and quizzing you about his favourite hero, demanding every single detail of your ‘rescue’.

“Well, he never found me,” you say, wrinkling your nose. “Is he playing Red Riot with the others in the playroom?”

Inaba shakes his head. “Nope. I figured he might have got distracted when he found out you were doing chores, so I checked the rest of the house before I came to you, and that kid is nowhere to be seen.”

Your brow furrows in contemplation. “Hm. Have you checked the garden?”

“Yep. He’s not out there.”

“How about the second floor airing cupboard?” Inaba shakes his head. “The big snack cupboard in the kitchen? Behind the sofa with the hole in? Under Yuzuna’s bed? Under the desk in the office?” All your suggestions earn a headshake. You’re both frowning now.

“Huh,” you say. “He really didn’t want to go to the doctor’s, did he?”

Inaba’s usual air of lazy ease has gone, replaced by a sharp focus. “No, he’s been antsy about it for days. I think he’s worried they’ll tell him he’s quirkless.” He gives you an apologetic look, but you wave it off.

“Well, I’ll have a look for him, maybe he’ll come and talk about it with me.” You’re already running through an inventory of possible hiding places in your head as you move towards the door.

Inaba nods, turning to leave in front of you. “Thanks. I’ll check the front door security feed, just to be sure.”

Fifteen minutes later, you're sprawled on your stomach, halfway under an eight year old's bed, when you hear footsteps from the hallway and Inaba calling your name. There is a frantic note in his voice that instantly has your heart pounding, and you scramble up to your feet and dart to the door.

“Inaba?”

Inaba's head whips to face you, and your concern spikes at the tightness of his expression. "Yuki left the house," he says shortly, already turning back the way he came. "The camera caught him slipping out the door and running down the road over an hour ago, and he hasn't come back in yet."

"Shit." You follow right on Inaba's heels as he races back down the stairs, fighting to stay calm as panic begins welling up in you. "But what about the door alarm? We should have heard the unauthorised exit!"

Inaba grinds his teeth audibly. "Faulty, apparently, for who knows how long. God, we paid so much for that system."

You both barge into the office, where Ueno stands in front of the monitor, face drawn with worry as she speaks into a phone. You can just see Yuki's tiny figure on the screen as the feed replays, sneaking down the garden path and then disappearing out onto the pavement. Your heart sinks. He's not even wearing his coat.

Hearing Ueno giving details to what sounds like the police, you turn back to Inaba. "What do we do now?"

"Ueno is putting in a report to the police, so they'll probably send someone out to us shortly." Frustration flashes over Inaba's face. "There's only the three of us here right now, so we can't all go looking for him."

You nod quickly in comprehension. It’s a school day, so only the youngest children are at home right now, but policy states that there needs to be at least two adults in the building at all times. "I'll go, you and Ueno should be here for the police and the other kids, and I know the area better than you do, anyway."

Inaba offers no protest - he knows you frequently take the children for local walks, and are more likely to know where Yuki might go. "Take his coat and your phone, we'll call you if he comes back on his own. I'll start calling the other staff in to help, but most of us don't live locally, so it might be a while before anyone gets here."

You waste no more time, just slinging on your own jacket and grabbing a bag to stuff Yuki's coat in, along with a bottle of water and a small first aid kit, just in case. You toss a tight goodbye towards your colleagues, and then you're out of the door.

It's not a particularly nice day outside; it might be spring, but there is a chilly dampness to the air, and the sky is blanketed in grey clouds. It’s already afternoon, and worry clenches your insides as you imagine little Yuki wandering the streets in the dark.

"Get a grip, he can't have gone far," you mutter to yourself. Shoving your hands in your pockets, you immediately begin walking to the park, figuring Yuki knows that route best.

You duck into the occasional shop on the way, showing a picture of Yuki from your phone to the staff and customers, but only receive blank looks and apologetic smiles in return. The cold pit of worry in your stomach grows as you hurry along, catching no hint of the wayward child. Nobody has seen him, and when you reach the park, it is almost empty - the older children are still at school, and the gloomy weather has kept most young families at home.

Calling Yuki's name at random intervals, you scour the park and then move onto the rest of the neighbourhood, trying to calculate the distance that his little legs could have taken him since he left. You check alleys and benches, small pockets of shrubs, and all the nearby shops that sell treats that would be inviting to a four year old, but still catch no sign of him.

At some point it begins to rain, cold droplets that spatter onto the concrete and make you shiver as they slide down your neck. It’s growing more difficult to keep your worry leashed, and you feel it starting to mount into panic now, imagining Yuki out in the rain, alone and frightened, maybe even hurt. You check your phone obsessively, hoping for a message from Inaba, but it stays horribly blank. A small, spiteful voice in your head tells you that this is your fault - if you were a proper role model, someone worthy of looking up to, maybe Yuki wouldn’t be so afraid of being quirkless, and wouldn’t have run off.

The rain grows harder, soaking through your jacket and making it more difficult to see in the growing dimness. Would Yuki even be able to hear you calling him over the sound of lashing rain and cars? Your breath starts to come fast as you retrace and retrace your steps, eventually landing back at the park, where you take shelter under a dense evergreen tree. Shivering in your wet clothes, you wrack your brain for more ideas of hiding places, but come up with nothing.

Cold, miserable, and frightened for the lost boy, you pull out your phone and turn to the only spark of hope you can think of. You stab a numb fingertip at Midoriya's name in your contacts, and close your eyes as it rings, praying that he answers.

The call clicks as it is picked up. "Hi!" Midoriya's warm voice says in your ear, and you heave a ragged sigh.

"M-midoriya," you start, voice hoarse, and your teeth chatter a little.

You hear a sharp inhale. "Hey, what's wrong? Where are you?" Midoriya sounds simultaneously focused and infinitely gentle, and you have to swallow hard before you can speak again.

"I'm at the park," you say, wiping rain out of your eyes. "It's Yuki, he's missing. He ran out a couple of hours ago, and I can't find him anywhere, and I'm sorry, but I just wondered if you, um, if-"

"I'll be right there, okay?” Midoriya says firmly, and you nod blindly, despite knowing he can’t see it. “And I’m going to call my friend Ingenium to come as well, he can cover ground really fast and can help us look quicker, alright?”

“Yes p-please,” you manage as another shiver runs through you. “I’m just so worried about him.”

“I know, but you’re doing great, and we’ll find him in no time!” Despite his gentleness, there is an unbending determination and positivity in Midoriya’s voice that makes you think of All Might’s smile. “Now, can you tell me exactly which park you’re in? I’ll come and meet you, and I’ll send Ingenium to the home to speak to everyone else first. I’m assuming the police have been notified?”

“Yeah, we called the police,” you confirm, and then give Midoriya your exact location.

“I’ll be there really soon, okay? Just wait for me where you are, and try to get out of the rain if you can.”

“Okay, thanks Midoriya.”

He bids you a soft goodbye, saying your name in a way that is so hugely comforting that you almost burst into tears right there and then, and then hangs up. Taking a deep breath, you straighten up and scrub both hands over your face, gathering your composure back in tightly. This is no time to succumb to your own fear and worry, not when you have Yuki to focus on.

Making sure to stay in the park so that Midoriya can find you, you start searching again, checking every inch that you can see for any sign of Yuki hiding, or having been there at all. You call his name, but there is no answer except the creak of a swing in the wind, and the thrumming of the rain.

Five minutes later finds you still roaming the park, when a flash of green in the corner of your eye has you whirling round. Sure enough, there is Midoriya, wreathed in the green sparks you now know as his Full Cowl. He’s wearing his hero costume, now comfortably familiar to you, but unlike before there are scuff marks and streaks of dirt that suggest he has already seen some action today, and you feel suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling that is equal parts relief and guilt at having brought him into this. Rain drips from the ends of his hair, running down his freckled face as he smiles and walks towards you without hesitation.

“Midoriya, I-” you manage, and then he is gathering you in close, folding strong arms around you in a warm hug. He is thoughtful in his movements, careful not to crush your backpack as he squeezes you gently.

“Don’t worry,” he says softly, close to your ear. “I’m here now. We’ll find Yuki, I promise.”

You nod jerkily, and allow yourself the comfort of pressing your face into the stiff fabric of his shoulder. He smells pleasantly like rain and dust, and fresh, clean sweat, and the warmth of his body is shockingly nice against your own numbed limbs. It’s like life is suddenly breathed into your rain-dampened senses, warmth and colour and scent all in one go, and it somehow helps calm the anxiety roiling inside you.

Midoriya pulls back, resting one gloved hand on your shoulder for a moment before letting go of you completely. “Let’s step out of the rain for a second, and you can give me as much information as you have, okay?”

Taking shelter under the tree you found earlier, you quickly stumble through everything you know, babbling any and all details you can think of: when Yuki left, where you have already looked for him, what he was wearing, his favourite places in the neighbourhood.

“Inaba thinks he was trying to run away from his doctor’s appointment,” you finish quietly, and Midoriya tilts his head in a silent question, eyebrows drawn into a small frown of concentration as he listens, one hand on his chin. “His quirk still hasn’t come in, so we suspect he is scared they’ll tell him he’s quirkless.”

“Ah,” Midoriya says, the quiet noise speaking volumes of empathy, and then he touches your shoulder again with a small smile. “Well, let’s find him first, and then I’m sure we can talk to him about quirks. Now, I’m just going to update Tenya - oh, Ingenium, I mean - and make a quick plan with him.”

He pulls his phone out and politely moves a half-step away, immediately launching into an animated and fast-paced conversation that you don’t bother trying to keep up with. Midoriya is clearly concerned about Yuki too, but there is an air of optimism about him that tells all your most basic instincts that everything will work out. It feels good to have him here, not just because he is a hero, but because he is your friend, and you want nothing more than to lean on him. Something catches inside you at that thought, but you push it down ruthlessly - now is not the time for self-analysis, not until Yuki is home safe.

“... Alright, thanks Tenya. Bye!” Midoriya stows his phone away and turns back to you. “Okay, we have a plan. We’ve divided up the area, and hopefully we can go further out than you were able to on your own; you’d be surprised how far a small child can get if they’re determined. Some of the other staff from the home are there now, so they’ll send people out to look, and Ingenium and I will sort of orbit around everyone, since we have greater mobility.” He moves a tiny bit closer to you, eyes wide and glittering in the dim light. “We’re here now, we’ll find him and everyone will be okay.”

Letting out a stilted sigh that is halfway to a sob, you nod at him with fresh determination. Somewhere out there Yuki is cold and wet and miserable, and you know in your heart that neither you or Midoriya will stop until he is found, no matter how long it takes. Midoriya returns your nod, and you both turn and head for the park exit; you’ve covered this small area enough to be sure that Yuki isn’t here, and you can’t waste any more time.

You’re still soaked to the skin and chilled to the bone, but moving brings a shred of warmth back into your muscles. You trot along, calling Yuki’s name and ducking your head to search for any glimpse of a small, huddled body. Just as promised, Midoriya orbits around you, darting off at astonishing speed for minutes at a time as he scours the streets, always returning back to you before heading in a different direction.

The rain hammers the pavement, and it’s getting late now, close to proper nightfall. Fear clutches at your chest when you think of how long Yuki has been on his own, but you anchor your faith in the determined set of Midoriya’s shoulders and keep moving.

You’re just passing by a bus stop when an awful thought occurs to you, and you stumble to a halt. Midoriya is a green blur in the distance, jumping down from a rooftop vantage point, but he is at your side in an instant when you shout for him.

“Hey,” he says, eyes wide as he takes in the obvious panic in your eyes. “What is it, what’s happened?”

“Midoriya, what if he somehow got on a bus? He could’ve got on behind someone and the driver would never see him, he’s too small!” Your head swims with the implication. “Oh god, he could be anywhere by now!”

Midoriya grits his teeth, moving in close to steady you with a hand on your elbow. “Okay, let’s think about this,” he says, eyes darting across the bus timetable with calculation. “Is this the closest bus stop to the home? Or is there maybe a different stop he would be familiar with?”

“Uh, I don’t know.” You try desperately to sort through your racing thoughts, searching for all of the local bus stops in your memory. “Shit, I can’t think.”

Midoriya squeezes your elbow gently. “It’s okay, take your time,” he murmurs. There is a frown of concerned concentration on his face, but his voice is soft.

“Okay, okay.” You exhale a long, shaky breath and take a moment to compose yourself again. You let your mind’s eye track the options from the home, and information starts to filter through the haze of fear. “Um, there is a stop closer to the home, but this is the one we use the most because of the direction it goes in, so I guess he would be more likely to come here?”

“Good job, that’s really helpful,” Midoriya says, flashing you a brief, tight smile. He turns then, eyes darting across the bus timetable with calculation. “Right, we know when Yuki left the home, and assuming he carried on at the same pace, he would’ve got here at-”

You let Midoriya’s muttering wash over you as he analyses the situation with a razor sharp focus. At some point he lets go of you, stepping up to the timetable and tracing down the list of buses with a gloved fingertip.

“... So we can probably assume that this was the bus here at the time Yuki would have been.” His finger stops at a particular line, and he glances at you questioningly.

You move in close, brushing rain out of your eyes so you can squint at the small writing. “Oh! We do get on that line sometimes, so it would make sense for Yuki to recognise it. He can’t read properly, but he does recognise some familiar names and numbers, and sometimes can spell out simple words.”

Midoriya gives you another brief smile. “He’s a clever boy. So, where does this line go?”

You close your eyes in thought, but they shoot open a second later as fear lances through you again. Midoriya visibly tenses when he sees the look on your face.

“That bus goes to the beach,” you whisper, a thousand horrifying images flickering through your mind. “But, Midoriya... Yuki can’t swim.”

Chapter Text

Fear freezes your muscles from the ground up, but Midoriya doesn’t hesitate. He immediately draws close to you, pulling his phone out with one hand while the other clasps your upper arm.

“Tenya, we think he’s at the beach,” he says into the phone, words clipped and efficient. “Keep the others searching the areas they’re in, but you head to the beach, and we’ll do the same.” He wastes no time in hanging up, stuffing his phone away and turning to you. “Alright, I need you to listen to me carefully, okay?” he says, voice dropping into a comforting warmth.

“Okay,” you whisper, trying to blink away images of a small body in crashing waves. You focus instead on Midoriya’s eyes, gazing into you intently.

Midoriya rubs your arm, calluses catching on your sleeve. “Good, that’s it. I need you to take a breath, and focus on me. We’re going to find Yuki, but until we do, I need you to stay with me, and stay alert, okay?”

He’s right; you don’t have time to give in to your fear, not until you have Yuki safe and sound again. You clench your jaw and try to straighten up, giving Midoriya a firm nod. “I’m okay. What do we do now?”

“We’re going to go to the beach, and Ingenium will meet us there.” Midoriya’s mouth tightens into a determined line.

Before you have a chance to quiz him on how you’ll get there, energy thrums to life around him. You’ve never seen Midoriya’s quirk so up close before, and you’re stunned by the feeling of power that lances up in him. Crackles of that familiar green lightning run up and down his limbs, and there is a faint glowing under his skin, red vein-like lines tracing across his face. He’s still holding your arm, and the crackling green energy dances down his hand, but it doesn’t feel like anything when it reaches you, except maybe a slight, hair-raising sensation of power, like being in the middle of a storm.

Midoriya meets your eyes once more, and then lets you go and turns, crouching slightly as he looks back at you over his shoulder. “I need you to get on my back, and hold on, can you do that?”

His tone is kind but efficient, brooking no time for embarrassment, so you nod and step forward without hesitation. Wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders, you hop slightly and Midoriya catches your legs with a forearm under each thigh. You both adjust your positions until you are positioned comfortably on his back, steadied by Midoriya’s strong arms, which barely seem to even notice your bodyweight. Your cheek brushes the side of his head, his damp hair tickling as you move.

Midoriya turns his head slightly, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “Are you ready?”

“Ready when you are,” you breathe, not sure what to expect.

You tighten your hold around his shoulders, feeling Midoriya’s muscles bunch underneath you, and then he’s springing forward powerfully. Wind and rain whips into your face, and you squint your eyes automatically.

Midoriya moves.

He runs and leaps, darting around corners and using buildings as springboards. He’s holding onto you firmly, but you still jolt around at the sheer speed he moves with, and you find yourself clinging to his shoulders. The world is a blur around you, and adrenaline pounds through your body.

Is this how heroes feel, you wonder, like the world just a small playground for their overwhelming power? Is this what it feels like to have a quirk?

Midoriya jumps straight up onto a rooftop to avoid a road, and you let loose a gasp of shocked laughter, closing your eyes and letting the windforce of Midoriya’s speed blast into your face. There is the soft vibration of an answering laugh through Midoriya’s chest, and his hands tighten briefly on your legs.

Just as your face starts to go numb with the wind and rain, Midoriya’s pace slows, and then your ears are ringing with the sudden lack of noise as he stops completely. You prise one hand off his chest and rub your blurry eyes clear of rain and tears so you can look around.

“We’re here,” Midoriya says, turning his head to look at you, and you see that he’s right. He is standing at the edge of the sea wall, beach stretched out in front, a vast space of rain pattering onto the sand and wind-whipped waves, disrupted here and there by piers and sea defenses. There are buildings along the beachfront, shops and cafes and homes, now all closed and shuttered against the weather.

Midoriya deposits you gently onto your feet, and you grip onto his sleeve for a moment while your legs gather their strength back from your adrenaline high.

“Where do we start?” you ask quietly, trying to ignore the pit of dread in your stomach.

Midoriya cocks his head, studying the area with a thoughtful frown. “You search up here, along the buildings and the top of the wall, and I’ll cover the beach itself? We’ll reassess the situation when Ingenium gets here.”

Willing to take his guidance, you readily agree. Midoriya spares you a glance, checking that you’re definitely okay on your own, before he is darting off again, little more than a green figure right at the edge of the water.

Trying not to think about the roiling ocean waves, you start forward immediately with your own search. You pace along the seafront, calling Yuki’s name and searching for hiding places that a frightened four year old might take shelter in.

Minutes pass, the dread rising up in you with every step you take. You try not to look at Midoriya’s figure, criss-crossing the sand from the ocean to the wall in a thorough pattern, tamping down thoughts of Yuki’s body in the water.

You’re peering down a dim gap between buildings when you hear a male voice calling from some distance behind you.

“Excuse me!”

You whirl around, startled by the presence of someone other than Midoriya and yourself. All breath leaves your body in a shuddering sigh when your gaze alights on the armoured man walking towards you, a small child held in his arms.

“Yuki!” The cry rips out of your mouth, and then you’re sprinting, closing the gap between you even as the man - Ingenium, you think distantly - does the same.

He covers the distance in the blink of an eye, and your arms are already reaching for Yuki. You see his tear-stained face pull away from Ingenium’s shoulder and turn tremulously towards you. Yuki’s eyes widen in recognition, and he lunges for you with a sob. Ingenium passes the child over hurriedly.

You gather him into your arms, holding him tight against you, and press a kiss to his tousled, rain-soaked hair. Yuki’s arms cling to you like a frightened monkey, and you can feel him shivering as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, crying unrestrainedly.

“Oh Yuki, petal, it’s okay, it’s alright, you’re safe now,” you murmur, throat full of your own tears. Looking up at Ingenium, you see him smiling down at you kindly through rain-spattered glasses. “Thank you,” you say, trying for a wobbly smile of gratitude, and then a thought occurs to you. “Oh! Midoriya, he’s still out on the beach!”

Ingenium’s gaze shifts over your shoulder with another smile, and you feel a warm presence at your elbow. “No, don’t worry, I’m right here,” Midoriya says, stepping into your line of sight and beaming at you. “Tenya, I can’t believe you found Yuki before I did!”

Ingenium pushes his glasses back up his nose, looking pleased. “Well, I can’t claim that I did much, it was just good luck, really. I was on my way to the beach when I saw him sheltering under a set of steps, quite neatly out of the rain. He’s certainly a resourceful child.”

You shift Yuki onto one hip, still clinging to you, and hold your hand out to Ingenium, fingers shaking just slightly. “Thank you so much, Ingenium.”

He takes your hand in a firm handshake, but waves away your gratitude. “Please, call me Iida. Any friend of Izuku’s is a friend of mine.”

You introduce yourself in return, and Midoriya makes a pleased noise, then reaches out to pat Yuki’s head gently. “Come on, now that we’ve got little Yuki safe and sound, let's get you both back to the home and get warm and dry, okay?”

Ingenium straightens up officiously. “Yes, we should report back to the police as soon as possible so they know to stand down. Plus, I mustn’t forget that I left my helmet at the home.” He shoots Yuki a kind glance. “I thought I might appear less intimidating to a child without it, you see.”

You nod at his thoughtfulness, then duck your face to Yuki’s ear. “What do you say, petal, time to go home?”

The little boy is still sniffling into your collarbone, but manages to mumble an agreement. Still feeling your body shaking with relief and cold, you glance over his head at the two heroes, both plastered with rain and smiling at you.

“Let's hurry, then, sweetpea. I think we owe these two heroes a hot chocolate each, after all.”

Chapter Text

Midoriya and Iida escort you back to the home, where you are met with a welcoming party of hugs, towels and hot drinks. Your arms feel limp after carrying Yuki for so long, but it still takes Ueno's best persuasion and promises of pudding to pry him off you.

Iida helps report back to the police, and then disappears with a polite goodbye and a promise to visit for tea another time - though not before a pyjama-clad Yuki commandeers his leg in a tight hug that has Iida looking both embarrassed and pleased as he pats his head.

Midoriya, hair endearingly fluffy and wild where it has dried from the rain, hangs about for longer, chatting with the staff and children, and casting you glances every so often, as if to check on you. You can't really blame him - you've been hovering on the outskirts of everything, feeling exhausted and strangely detached in the aftermath of your fear. You’re worried about what happens when the detachment ends; it feels as if there is something invisible and unknown hanging over you, like a guillotine waiting to slice your mental wellbeing in two.

Ueno sidles up next to you, and pats your arm. "You must be worn out. Why don't you let Deku walk you home, hm? I think you'll both be glad if he sees you home safe tonight."

"No, that's okay. I don't want to bother him any more than I have already, and you know I can get home fine, Ueno, I do it every day."

Ueno tuts her disagreement, and then gets a worrying gleam in her eye. “Excuse me, Deku!” she calls brightly, hand tightening on your arm so you can’t slip away.

Midoriya comes over immediately, giving you both a querying but polite look. "Ah, yes, Ueno?"

"Do you think you could escort my precious junior home?" Ueno pouts dramatically. "I am so worried about everyone's safety after all the trouble today."

"Ueno, there wasn't even any danger," you protest, but Midoriya is already fixing you with an enthusiastic smile.

"Oh, of course I will! Just let me say goodbye to Yuki and I'll be ready when you are!”

You don’t get another chance to protest before Midoriya has crossed the room and is crouching down with a gentle smile for Yuki. As usual, the boy’s face is lit up with delight at the presence of his hero, and you see him launch into an excited conversation that involves a lot of gesticulating on Yuki’s part, and laughter on Midoriya’s. It’s too cute, and you distract yourself by glaring at Ueno. She beams back at you innocently.

“My precious junior?” you mimic back to her sarcastically. “Really?”

Ueno just chuckles, completely unperturbed. “Deku may be a top Pro Hero, but that boy is easy to manipulate.”

It’s pointless to fight against both Ueno and Midoriya’s determination, so you allow yourself to be shuttled along to the front door and armed with Inaba’s spare umbrella. Midoriya manages to pry himself away from Yuki’s clutches by promising to visit again very soon, and then the two of you are on your way to the train station.

It’s still raining, though not as heavily as before, and you glance at Midoriya worriedly. His hero costume seems fairly warm, but there were no other spare umbrellas, and he isn’t wearing a coat.

“Hey, you should get under the umbrella too,” you say, telling yourself you don’t remember all of the shoujo manga you’ve ever read with romantic umbrella scenes. “It’s big enough, and I don’t want to be responsible for the great hero Deku being taken out of action by the common cold.”

Midoriya flushes a little, but ducks under the umbrella obediently. “Thanks!” He glances at you from the corner of his eye, and bites his lip. “Um, why don’t I hold it over both of us?”

“Yeah, sure.” You feel increasingly shy, but have no excuse to deny the suggestion.

Midoriya takes the umbrella and steps closer to you, your arms brushing as you walk. You can feel the warmth of his body radiating even through this little contact, and try to focus on the sound of the rain so that you don’t start blushing like an idiot.

The walk to the station is uneventful, the streets mostly empty in the miserable weather. Midoriya insists on buying you a hot drink from the vending machine, to ward off the damp chill of the rain, and you have to admit that it helps to settle the jangling nerves in your stomach. You still don’t feel right, even knowing Yuki is back home and safe. It’s like your emotions have been wrung dry, and yet there is still a pit of something waiting to well up inside you.

You sip the drink quietly, sitting companionably with Midoriya until the train comes. Once you board, you’re grateful that the train is fairly empty, too, since you’re fairly sure that being in his full hero getup would have Midoriya swamped in adoring fans.

The noise of the train, and Midoriya’s reassuring presence beside you, almost lulls you to sleep, and you have to shake yourself back to alertness when your stop approaches. Midoriya gives you a sweet, amused smile as you both exit the station, and the shock of the cool air makes you yawn.

“I guess you’ll sleep well tonight,” he says. “But that’s good! You need some proper rest after something like today. Make sure you have a warm bath before bed tonight, okay? You were out in the rain for longer than anyone!”

“Except Yuki,” you sigh, and regret it when Midoriya’s smile fades.

“Yeah, except Yuki.” He holds the umbrella up as you both step into the rain, shifting close to you again. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t get a chance to talk to him about what happened today, and being quirkless and everything.” He turns to you suddenly, eyes wide. “Not that I think that I need to, I mean, I’m sure you all know what to say better than me!”

You wave away his sudden concern. “Don’t worry, of course the others will talk to him. But you’re not wrong. Even if you didn’t know exactly what to say, Yuki would definitely listen to you more than us since you’re his idol right now.”

“Ah, right,” Midoriya says, sounding faintly bashful.

You walk in silence for a couple of minutes, punctuated only by the rain drumming on the umbrella. The quiet helps your thoughts crystallize, and you realise part of what has been bothering you.

“Midoriya?”

“Yes?”

“Did you ever…” you sigh again. “Did you ever feel less, um, worthy? When you thought you were quirkless, I mean.”

Midoriya inhales sharply, and you see him turn to look at you, but you fix your eyes on the ground as you walk.

“What do you mean?” Midoriya asks softly, and there is clear concern in his voice.

“It’s just-“ your voice catches in your throat suddenly, and you have to swallow before you can speak again. “Maybe if Yuki saw me as a proper role model, he wouldn’t have been so scared about being quirkless, you know? What does he think of me, to feel that he has to run away at even the vague possibility that he is like me? I mean, it’s not just the quirklessness. I feel like if I was just… more he would be able to look up to me, and not be so worried.”

Midoriya makes a pained noise that sounds almost frustrated, and you look up at him in surprise when he abruptly stops walking.

“You,” he starts, then exhales a long breath. His eyes glitter in the streetlight as he gazes at you, unwavering. “Please don’t say that about yourself. You couldn’t be a more amazing role model if you tried.”

“But-”

“No, please, listen.” Midoriya turns to face you fully, shifting the umbrella so that he can take your hand. “You shouldn’t lessen yourself like that. I’ve met so many people with strong and powerful quirks who couldn’t even compare to the goodness in you. You’re so brave and kind, it’s obvious that the children adore you, and I-” he chokes and cuts himself off suddenly, and something like panic flies across his face before his expression returns to earnestness. “You’re a wonderful person,” he finishes softly, and presses your fingers in his.

You feel touched by his words, but also embarrassed, and shift your eye contact away. “Thank you,” you murmur. “It’s just... really hard to believe that about myself, sometimes.”

“I know, I think it’s always hardest to believe good things about yourself. But you can trust me, I wouldn’t lie to you.” Midoriya tilts his head with a little smile. “Wouldn’t be very heroic of me, would it?”

You meet his gaze again and laugh weakly. “I guess not.”

“And, um, tell me if I’m wrong, but I’m sure children must run away or go off on their own adventures all the time, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true. This certainly isn’t the first time, and probably won’t be the last.”

“Exactly! I think this was about Yuki going through something, not about you not being good enough.”

Midoriya is still holding your hand gently in his, and you squeeze his hand gratefully as your shoulders slump, tension draining away. “You’re right, of course it is. Thank you, Midoriya, and I’m sorry for throwing myself such a pity party.”

He laughs, looking faintly embarrassed himself. “Oh, it’s okay! Actually, I do it a lot myself, so I know what it’s like.”

The umbrella shifts as he shrugs, and you flinch when a large droplet of water splashes onto your cheek. Midoriya lets go of your hand, and reaches up to brush the water away with a gloved knuckle. You both freeze at the tender gesture, his fingers still on your cheek as you stare wide-eyed at each other, and then he pulls his hand back with a yelp.

“Ah, sorry!” Midoriya stumbles backwards, then immediately squawks and steps forward again when he realises you are exposed to the rain. It’s hard to tell in the darkness, but you think he is blushing. “It was automatic!”

“No worries,” you say awkwardly, feeling your own cheeks heating up. “Um, shall we get going again?”

“Y-yep!”

You’re both glad to take the excuse not to have to look at each other directly, and hurry to continue the short walk home.

Despite the somewhat awkward atmosphere, you realise that your heart feels lighter. Midoriya's earnest reassurance had immediately stopped what you suspected would have been a deep spiral into self-loathing, and you feel pathetically grateful for your friend. There is a warning prickle in the back of your mind, though, and it keeps you from talking about anything else meaningful for the rest of the journey.

"Thank you for walking me home," you tell Midoriya sincerely as you reach your apartment building. "I'm sorry Ueno dragged you into it, as if you haven't done enough to help me today!"

Midoriya just beams at you. "My pleasure! Will you be okay tonight, on your own?"

"I'll be fine. I mean, nothing actually happened to me directly, except that my feet are about to drop off, and I'm exhausted enough to sleep seven lifetimes and still need a lie in afterwards."

You both laugh, and then share a clumsy one-armed hug while Midoriya holds the umbrella up out of the way.

"You should take the umbrella with you, I know Inaba would want you to."

Midoriya looks like he is going to protest, but subsides with a nod and a smile when you shoot him a narrow-eyed look.

"Okay, well I should be going, then," he says, making sure you're under the shelter of the building before stepping back into the rain. "Could you tell Inaba I'll bring back the umbrella as soon as I can?"

"Of course! Thanks again for today, for everything."

"You're very welcome! I'll see you soon, okay?" Midoriya smiles warmly at you, walking backwards a few paces. He gives you a little wave, and then turns and disappears into the rain and darkness.

You hurry inside and waste no time in running a bath, shedding your still damp clothes in favour of an old bathrobe. While the tub fills, you shoot off a text to Inaba, letting him know you made Midoriya take his umbrella. Inaba replies almost immediately.

Inaba [7:47pm]
That's fine. I'm glad he walked you home - it's nice to see you relying on someone for once. Get some rest!

Feeling suddenly unsettled, you put your phone aside and sink into the bath. The water is almost too hot, but you sigh with relief as the heat finally leeches the cold from your bones. Relaxing back, you close your eyes and idly swish your fingers through the water.

Inaba's message comes to mind again, and you frown despite the soothing heat. You know exactly what it is that has you feeling uncomfortable: the idea that you're relying on someone. Inaba just voiced an idea that has been nagging at you all day. The worrying fact is that as soon as you had realised you were struggling, you had gone running to Midoriya. It had felt good doing it, too, and that’s what concerns you the most.

You aren't stupid; you know that most people need family and friends to rely on, and that it is healthy for them to do so. But you're not most people. Nothing and no one in your life has ever been steady or secure enough to be worth leaning on, not in the long term. All that does is open you up for pain when everything eventually falls apart. You've had to be independent since you were little, and that is still how you survive now.

It's not that Midoriya isn't trustworthy. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Midoriya is brilliant and kind, a hero to his core and yet still sweetly human. He is completely out of your reach. You have treasured the time you've had with him, but there's no way it can last. His world is just too far from yours.

You sink down even lower, wanting to just dissipate into the water like soap. Images and memories run through your mind like a film reel: Midoriya's gentle voice on the phone. His ridiculously fast appearance in the park, and the way your heart lightened when you saw him. His hair, slicked down with rain. His concern for you, and how easily it flipped your mood. His knuckle on your cheek.

Midoriya was so caring and supportive, and it was already making you weak.

Pain rises like a balloon in your chest, and you duck underneath the faucet as if you could rinse the yearning right out of your head. You burst back up, water streaming off your face, and your mind no easier than before.

Everything in you is screaming to just let Midoriya be there for you, but that is exactly why you have to stop leaning on him. You need to pull back from him before you get any deeper in.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, not sure if it is to yourself or Midoriya. Either way, nobody hears it, and if tears drip into the bathwater, nobody sees them, either.

~

You hadn’t expected it to be easy, but distancing yourself from Midoriya is even harder than you’d imagined. The next week drags by painfully, each day hosting a fresh struggle between your new resolve and the instinctual urge to cling to your friend.

Midoriya messages you daily, as has been his recent habit, wishing you good morning and sending you little stories. It feels horrible sending back short replies - nothing rude, just simple enough not to encourage more conversation - but you still stick to your plan. Sure enough, your efforts don’t go unnoticed, and his messages slowly decrease in frequency throughout the week, until he is reduced to just checking in to say hello once a day.

You ignore the attempts at group conversation that Uraraka sends, too, claiming to be too busy to reply and then not returning to read the ensuing flurry of messages.

In the middle of the week, you wake with a scream strangled in your throat, nightmare visions of the villain Cthulhu still following you into wakefulness. You want to reach for your phone, remembering Midoriya’s encouragement to contact him whenever the nightmares are bad, but force yourself to turn over and shrug deeper under your duvet instead.

Your colleagues notice that something is off, glancing at you worriedly over the children’s heads, but you just smile and wave their concern away with claims of being tired. It’s not a lie, either - you do feel worn out, mentally exhausted by your own warring emotions.

Midoriya visits the home once during the week, bringing Iida back for his promised tea party. You help to arrange the visit, setting up the time and the day with Midoriya as you always do. When the day comes, you don’t go to the home, and instead send out a host of messages to Midoriya, Iida, and your colleagues, apologising that you have an urgent appointment you have to go to. You slump on your sofa, imagining them all chatting and laughing together. You try hard not to feel left out, knowing that this is both your own fault and for the best.

Through all of this, Midoriya doesn’t question you - he is too understanding and gentle a friend for that. He just sends you the occasional message to make sure you are well, and otherwise is respectful of your quietness.

~

By the time Friday arrives, heralding your scheduled weekend off, you just want to curl into a ball and watch children’s anime until your brain is too full of colours and action to think anymore.

You walk wearily from the station, wishing you could move faster and get home quicker, but your feet feel as heavy as your thoughts. It takes longer than normal, but eventually your apartment building comes into view, pulling a long sigh of relief from you.

Expecting your phone bill to be coming soon, you check your letterbox on the way in, and are surprised to find a smart A4 envelope inside. It’s definitely not your phone bill, but there's nothing on the outside to indicate where it is from. Curiosity lends you some energy, and you briskly tuck the envelope under one arm and head into your apartment.

You slap the mystery envelope onto your table, then set the kettle to boil, and immediately change into your pyjamas before hurrying back to satisfy your curiosity. You've got the envelope in one hand, noting that there is no postmark or stamp, indicating that it was hand delivered, when your phone rings and Ueno's name flashes up.

"Hi Ueno, everything okay?"

"Sorry to bother you darling, but Yuzuna's having a bit of a meltdown…"

You hum to indicate that you're listening as Ueno outlines the newest crisis, then cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder so that you can open the envelope.

"Mm, I think the school sent a letter about that, it should be in the office I think?" you say distractedly, and hear Ueno's footsteps as she follows your suggestion.

Listening to the sound effects of Ueno bustling around the office, you slide out several sheets of paper from your envelope.

The first one is a newspaper clipping that you immediately recognise. It's an article that covered the incident at the museum, and you frown at seeing the photograph of Cthulhu being dragged, unconscious, into a police van. There's red pen underlining a section of the article, and you lean closer to read the highlighted passage.

'The villain Cthulhu was swiftly taken down by Pro Hero Deku in a single, awe-inspiring punch. Deku credits his quick success to the help he received from a brave citizen, whose identity has not been released. Deku describes how the citizen courageously stepped forward to challenge the villain, and provided the distraction he needed.

Other eyewitnesses have since stated that the citizen 'absolutely wrecked' Cthulhu in a verbal takedown that completely undermined the villain's intimidating presence.'

Your eyebrows shoot up. This isn't the first time you've read the article, but why has someone sent it to you? Ueno is still muttering down the line as you put the clipping aside to look at the next paper.

Except it’s not just a piece of paper.

It’s a letter.

Every hair on your body stands on end as you stare at the neatly typed note in bewildered horror. You don’t need to imagine it as being composed from cut out letters to know that this is a threat.

My Dearest ‘Brave Citizen’,

I found you. It wasn’t hard.

You may think you are brave and honorable, but you are just spreading poison to sheep. People like you are as foul as the corrupt heroes you worship.

People like you should be silenced.

You make a choked sound, putting the letter down very carefully with trembling fingers, as if it might bite.

“Oh, my god.” The words come out shaky with disbelief. Your heart is pounding with adrenaline, and you drop into a chair before your legs can give up on you.

"What's the matter?"

You have to stifle a scream when Ueno's voice speaks in your ear, and you fumble with the phone before you manage to put it back to your ear again.

"What's going on?"

"Sorry Ueno, you were quiet so long that you surprised me, I almost dropped my phone!" you say, trying for a casual tone, but your short laugh comes out too harsh and shrill.

"Okay," Ueno says calmly. "Now what's really going on?"

You’re too shaken to dissemble any further. “Uh, it’s nothing, just a weird letter I got.”

“A weird letter?” You recognise the sweet tone in Ueno’s voice - it’s the one she uses to get the children to confess when they’ve done something wrong, and it is impossible to deny.

“Yeah, it’s nothing really. Just a weirdo who saw me in that article about the museum, I guess.”

“How did they get your address?” Ueno sounds serious now.

Your eyes dart blindly around your apartment, as if searching for a reasonable excuse. “Probably online or something, I should check my social media, I guess. Um, you know, I actually have to go now, Ueno. I’ll see you on Monday, okay?”

Hanging up before she can respond, you collapse your head into your hands, staring down at the letter and just breathing, trying to calm your body down. You run through it in your head, assessing your situation as your body prickles with fear.

Cthulhu is still safely locked away. You know from your curious research after the museum incident that he has no known accomplices or followers. So, whoever sent this letter is most likely someone fixated on the villain, an admirer who is just sending you hate mail out of frustration.

You know from experience that the best way to deal with bullies is to ignore them until they get bored and leave you alone, and it occurs to you that this situation is no different. You just need to be alert and sensible, and wait until this passes.

Stumbling to your feet, you triple check that you have locked your door, and that all the windows and curtains in the apartment are locked and closed.

Fleeting thoughts of Midoriya surface, a longing to run to him and seek his reassuring protection. But really, no matter how scary the letter is, it has changed nothing. You still can’t lean on Midoriya anymore; it’s just unrealistic to assume that you will always have a Pro Hero available at your fingertips, and you need to get used to dealing with stuff like this on your own.

So you hunker down, alone in your apartment with a threatening letter and a determination not to call the one person you desperately want.

Chapter Text

"Izuku, I don't understand. You're freaking out because you walked home in the rain with the person you have a crush on and had a sweet moment under their umbrella? That just sounds nice."

Izuku groans, slumped over the table with his face cushioned in his arms. "No, Shouto, I'm freaking out because it was so… Argh!" He raises his head so he can look beseechingly at his other friend. "Uraraka, help?!"

Uraraka takes a big slurp of her smoothie, then leans forward with an informative finger in the air. "Okay, so Deku's freaking out because, number one, Cake is too damn cute-"

"So cute," Izuku moans pitifully.

"-and he doesn't know how to handle it without having a meltdown. And number two, because he thinks he's embarrassed himself by being a tiny bit affectionate and then getting all flustered, even though, personally, I think it does sound super sweet. Right, Deku?"

Izuku thinks of you, standing under the umbrella, so close to him that he had wanted to shiver. He thinks about how you had glowed under his reassurances, and how Izuku had almost rambled himself into a confession right there and then. He remembers the brush of his glove on your damp, tender cheek. And he absolutely remembers his own humiliating reaction, stumbling around like a lamb on shaky legs instead of the grown man that he is. He blushes bright red at the mere memory.

"Right," he says, letting his head flop back down as his face burns hot. Despite his hopes, hearing Uraraka spell it out hadn't helped him feel any calmer.

"Oh," Shouto says, and Izuku hears the rustle and creak of him leaning back in his chair. "So I was right the first time."

Uraraka laughs openly. "Yep!"

Izuku sits up so he can scowl at his chuckling friends. "You guys are horrible. Why can't you be sympathetic?"

Uraraka pokes him on the head. "Because," she says in a singsong voice, "you're falling in love, and it's adorable!"

Izuku gasps so quickly on his protests that he chokes on his own saliva and reels into an uncontrollable coughing fit, eyes streaming as he wheezes.

Shouto pats him on the back, then returns to sipping his green tea calmly. To the uninformed, he might look expressionless, but Izuku can see the amused tilt to his eyes as his friend watches him over his teacup.

Uraraka pushes Izuku's own drink towards him, an apologetic grin on her face. "Okay okay, I'm sorry. Maybe that was too much teasing for right now, huh?"

Izuku nods and takes a large gulp of his drink, still unable to speak. The coughing is just subsiding to a gentle splutter when a large, firm hand comes out of nowhere and wallops him on the back. Izuku wheezes all over again.

"Izuku! I have told you before that you shouldn't chatter so much while you are eating or drinking. You always get overexcited and it goes down the wrong way!" Tenya says sternly as he takes the final seat at the small cafe table, frowning at Izuku with concern. He nods at the other two. "Good morning, Ochako, Shouto."

Izuku bats weakly at Uraraka, whose sympathetic smile has been replaced by what Izuku privately calls her demon giggles.

Shouto puts his teacup down with a clink. "Hello, Tenya. Actually, Izuku didn't inhale his drink this time, he's just freaking out about walking home last night."

Tenya raises his eyebrows and his frown turns to a considering smile. “Ah yes,” he says wisely. “With your new paramour.”

“Para-” Uraraka can’t even finish the word before she is off into a fresh gale of laughter, wiping tears of joy at the look of horror Izuku can feel on his own face. Even Shouto snorts ungracefully.

“Oh my god, Tenya, please never say that again.” Izuku splutters, covering his face with both hands. “We’re just friends. And nobody uses the word paramour.”

Tenya takes his glasses off to polish them, and knits his eyebrows as he squints at Izuku. “But paramour is a correct term to use for a lover you are not married to. And I was of the understanding that you had romantic feelings for each other, was I wrong?” He directs his question to the others at the table, clearly assuming he will get a better answer out of them than Izuku himself. Which isn’t wrong, Izuku has to admit, considering the way his head is spinning with embarrassment.

Uraraka is still wiping tears of laughter away, but manages to wave her hands airily. “No, you weren’t wrong, Izuku is totally head over heels for Cake!”

“...Cake?”

“It’s a long story,” Shouto murmurs. “And I’m fairly sure that the feelings go both ways, but Izuku is too busy freaking out and doubting himself to find out.” He directs a steady look at Izuku that is both rebuking and supportive.

“I’m not-” Izuku tries to protest.

“Plus he can’t think straight because of the warm fuzzies he gets every time Cake smiles at him!” Uraraka says chirpily, and grins at Izuku’s baleful glare.

Tenya, who has been nodding thoughtfully throughout this explanation, leans towards Izuku. “Then you should go ahead and buy some nice flowers and confess your feelings. I believe that love is said to take great courage, after all!” He punctuates this statement with an emphatic wave of his arm that has Uraraka snagging her smoothie out of his reach protectively.

Izuku sighs. “No, I can’t do that. Not yet, at least!” he adds hurriedly, as all three of his friends open their mouths to argue. “I don’t want to risk our friendship, it’s all still so new, and I don’t want to ruin anything or overstep any boundaries.”

Shouto smiles and pats him on the shoulder while Tenya and Uraraka make understanding noises, and Izuku feels himself relax a little. There are still butterflies in his stomach every time he thinks of you, but explaining his feelings to his friends has helped to calm them down. He truly doesn’t want to risk anything, not when this new friendship is so precious to him, and there is some instinct in Izuku that tells him not to rush you.

“Okay, let’s give Deku a rest and talk about someone else!” Uraraka says, her eyes lighting up as she surveys the other two for the next victim.

Izuku sees the way Shouto tenses slightly, and can’t help his smile. “Oh, Shouto, didn’t you say you met up with Sero recently?”

Uraraka’s eyes gleam as she leans forward to take the bait, and Izuku sits back to enjoy someone else being under the magnifying glass for once. Shouto shoots him a look of utter betrayal, but Izuku just grins at him.

Settling into the warmth of conversation and teasing, Izuku sips his drink and idly files away the best parts of the conversation, already compiling a message to you in his head.

~

Izuku doesn’t worry when you don’t chat with him much the next day. He knows how busy you can be at work, and he absolutely understands that everyone needs some quiet time now and then. So he just sends you a picture of a pigeon with a cute feather hairdo he finds on a rooftop, tells you a story about Uraraka begging Shouto to make shaved ice for a craving, and hopes that they make you smile.

He does worry a little bit the next day, when you are still replying with short, unresponsive messages. It’s out of character - you usually send him memes and pictures in a cheerful back and forth conversation throughout the day - and he’s concerned that you might be ill, or that maybe the incident with Yuki is weighing on your mind. Izuku doesn’t want to push you if you’re not well, so he keeps his messages light and unconcerned.

Two days later, your messages still haven’t changed. Izuku’s heart feels heavy, dragging down in his chest. It’s pretty clear now that you are blanking him out, and since you’re not the type of person to be cruel for no reason, Izuku knows he must have upset you. Maybe he really had overstepped the mark during that walk home.

Shouto tells him to just call you and talk about it, but Izuku is too afraid. He doesn’t want to hear coldness in your voice, knowing it will be so much more painful than seeing it in a message.

More than that, he is worried for you, and doesn’t know how to help. Izuku has barged in on people’s feelings countless times, shamelessly inserting himself into their problems so that he can help. But it feels different with you. If he really has upset you, then Izuku doesn’t want to cause you more discomfort by forcing himself where he isn’t wanted.

Uraraka, stalwartly unconvinced that you are mad at Izuku, tries to coax a response from you in group chats, but she isn’t successful either. The only thing that really gets you to respond is organising a visit to the home, and even then you just send the bare essentials.

“Don’t worry, Deku!” Uraraka reassures him, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “It’s probably all a misunderstanding. And hey, you can talk about it in person when you go to the home with Tenya, that’ll be much better!”

Izuku smiles at her, trying to reassure his friend not to worry about him. He holds on to her optimism like a lifeline, and is determined to pull you aside the first chance he gets.

He doesn’t get any chances, though, because you aren’t at the home when Izuku and Tenya turn up. You send a message to apologise, and Izuku sees the confused glances that the staff exchange; clearly they were expecting you to be there today as well. He ignores Tenya’s small frown and pushes his racing thoughts down ruthlessly so that he can smile for the children. When they leave, Izuku makes sure to give Ueno his business card. She smiles at him warmly, eyes knowing, and agrees to call him if they need anything.

~

By the weekend, Izuku is equal parts worried and resigned. It’s killing him to think that he has somehow ruined your friendship, and yet he is too anxious about overstepping boundaries to talk to you about it - if you don’t want to speak to him, then Izuku figures it is not his place to make you.

He hangs about the agency, trying to distract himself, but Shouto refuses to let him work on his scheduled days off.

“But Shouto, I’m not tired and I have nothing better to do! I can help! Just let me do some paperwork or something at least?” Izuku wheedles, standing by Shouto’s desk as his friend pores over an incident report.

Shouto sighs. “No. We promised that we would keep each other’s work habits in check, and you’re not going to convince me to break that.”

“I just… want to focus on something for a while.” Izuku says, more quietly this time, and Shouto finally looks up at him properly. His bicoloured eyebrows pull into a small furrow of concern.

“I still think you should just call or something if you’re this worried.”

“You know I can’t,” Izuku says, repeating a conversation they’ve had several times in the last day alone. “It doesn’t feel right. I don’t want to insert myself where I’m not welcome just because I’m worried.”

Shouto snorts quietly. “That’s never stopped you before.” The words would sting, but one corner of his mouth lifts in a small smirk, and Izuku can’t help but smile back.

Shouto’s work phone rings then, and Izuku uses the distraction to sneak away to his own desk. He fritters away some time by sorting and filing all his outstanding paperwork, then arranges his stationery by colour and size. The mundanity of the actions is calming, and Izuku falls gladly into a daze-like state as he works. He’s distantly aware that he’s started muttering to himself, but isn’t concerned enough to do anything about it.

His focus is disrupted by his own phone buzzing in his pocket, and he frowns at the unfamiliar number on the display.

“Hello, Deku speaking!”

“Oh, hello Deku,” a warm female voice answers. “It’s Ueno here, from the children’s home?”

Izuku straightens up in his chair. “Is everything alright? Are the children okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Ueno hurries to reassure him, a smile in her voice. “The children are fine. Everyone here at the home is fine. Actually, it’s more of a personal matter I am calling about.”

Reading between the lines, Izuku tenses as he murmurs your name reflexively.

Ueno sighs. “That’s right. It’s probably nothing, I’m just a little worried, and I hoped you might be able to help, since you two are friends outside of the home as well.”

Izuku hums softly. “Of course I’ll help! What’s going on? We haven’t really spoken this week.” He thinks of how quiet you have been, and a shiver of concern runs through his veins.

“Well, I called last night about a work matter, and while I was on the phone-”

There is shouting in the background, and Ueno’s voice goes quiet as if she has pulled away from the receiver. “Yes, Yuki, just give me a minute, okay? Sorry about that Deku,” she says finally.

“That’s okay,” Izuku is quick to reassure, wanting to get back to the problem at hand. “You were talking about a phone call?”

“Oh, yes! We were on the phone and then it was like everything went quiet, and when I asked what was wrong- oh my god YUKI! Don’t touch that!”

Izuku winces at the shout in his ear. “Um, Ueno?”

“Deku, I am really sorry, I have to go.” Ueno sounds more harried than usual, and Izuku can hear several children screaming faintly. “Yuki found a hornet.”

“Wait, can you just tell me quickly what the problem is?” Izuku says hurriedly.

“Yes, right, it was something about a weird letter, about the museum incident I think? But what really worried me was the tone of real fear that- YUKI, LEAVE IT ALONE! I am so sorry, Deku. Anyway, I’m concerned that it was hate mail or something. And also because that apartment building address isn’t registered in the phone book or anything, so it shouldn’t have been available to the public. Right, I really have to go, thank you Deku. Goodbye!”

The phone call ends abruptly, and Izuku is left frowning blankly at his desk, trying to take in Ueno’s disjointed information. He attempts to make sense of it, to figure out what could be the problem with a letter, but instead keeps coming back to one thing: the ‘tone of real fear’ that Ueno had described.

Abruptly, Izuku is standing, his desk chair rolling away with the force of his movement. He scribbles your name and address on a scrap of paper, then hurries to Shouto's desk. His friend looks up at him with a surprised frown.

"Izuku. I thought you left a while ago."

"Mm, I was cleaning my desk - but never mind that! More importantly, I have to go right now, but can you do me a favour?"

Shouto takes in Izuku's expression and nods immediately. "What do you need?"

Izuku hands him the paper with your full name and address. "Can you get someone to look into this address for me? I need to know how easy it would be to track down."

Shouto's eyebrows raise slightly as he reads your name, but Izuku is grateful that he doesn't waste time asking questions. "Of course. I assume you want this quickly, so I'll email you as soon as we're done."

"That would be perfect," Izuku says, patting his pocket to ensure his phone is there. "I'm going there now. I don't expect trouble, but at least you know where I am, just in case, okay?"

Shouto nods, and Izuku is grateful once again for his friend's restraint. He is sure Shouto has questions, but Izuku doesn't want to waste any time chatting when the phrase 'tone of real fear' is making his fingertips tingle with the urge to act.

Impulsively, he grabs Shouto in an awkward hug. Shouto makes a noise of surprise but just about manages to return the gesture before Izuku is pulling away. "Thanks, Shouto! I'll fill you in later, I promise!"

With a last wave goodbye, Izuku finally unleashes his impatience, letting it carry him out of the building on swift feet. His mind is travelling almost as fast as he is, running through possibilities. Could this be a stalker? Or maybe contact from an estranged relative - you have said very little about your family, but that doesn't mean they aren't out there somewhere. Izuku's heart pounds in a way he recognises as fear - not for himself, but for you, imagining you scared and alone against some unknown danger.

There's a distinct possibility he is overreacting right now, but he can't seem to help the urge to protect that has swelled up inside him like a great beast, gnashing its teeth with anxiety.

~

Izuku just about restrains himself from using his quirk to travel faster - it’s broad daylight, and he's not wearing his hero costume, after all, and he knows it doesn't look good to use his quirk in public for personal reasons.

Still, even without using One for All, Izuku is fast. With good luck on the trains helping him along, he makes good time and reaches your neighbourhood without delay.

When he gets to your apartment building, urgency still thrumming through his body, Izuku pauses. He stands outside, looking up at your door as if he can read what's happening inside.

Will you even want to see him?

What if, even with something scary happening, you still shut Izuku out? He clenches his hands, feeling nervous sweat prickling on his palms. So many times he had told you to come to him if you needed anything, and yet it had taken Ueno to call him on your behalf. Did you not trust him anymore?

Uncertainty makes him waver for a long minute, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as his thoughts jump around wildly. But eventually, one clear thought rises above the other worries and questions; Izuku just needs to make sure you're safe.

Back on firm ground again, Izuku takes the stairs two at a time and barely pauses before rapping at your door.

There is no immediate reply, even when Izuku knocks again, and he starts to worry that you might not be home. But when he knocks a third time, he hears a faint, muttered curse from inside, and his heart jumps. He fumbles out his phone.

Izuku [10:34am]
Hi, I'm so sorry if I scared you - it's just me at the door. Can you let me in?

There is no answering message, but after a moment Izuku hears the slide and rattle of a security chain, and the door is unlocked and opened.

You stand there in the doorway, not quite meeting Izuku's gaze, and his breath catches at the sight of you. You are so gorgeous, even with dark circles under your eyes, and the tight, drawn expression on your face. Izuku's heart pounds with affection and worry for you, and he takes a step forward before he even realises it. He opens his mouth to explain why he's here, but you get there first.

"Ueno called you, didn't she?" you ask quietly, and Izuku nods. You turn and walk back into the apartment, looking over your shoulder at him with resignation on your face. "Okay. You can come in, if you want."

Izuku follows immediately, shutting the door firmly behind him and hurrying to remove his shoes. As he comes into your apartment, his hero’s eye notes that all your curtains are still drawn, as if to block the outside world.

When he catches up to you in the kitchen, where you are putting the kettle on to boil, Izuku's heart clenches as he sees again how tired you look.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he says softly, and your head jerks towards him. "I didn't want to intrude, but Ueno was worried… and, um, now I'm worried about you too."

To Izuku's confusion, you laugh quietly; a bitter chuckle that has his hackles rising. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Midoriya."

Izuku frowns as you turn away from him again, ostensibly to reach for two mugs, but your body is stiff with tension. Following his instincts, Izuku reaches out and catches your hand. You don't look at him, but he feels your fingers tighten briefly around the mug, and then all the tension bleeds out of you and your shoulders slump in defeat.

Izuku takes a breath, calming himself before he speaks again. He slips into his hero voice without even thinking, soft and reassuring. "Why don't you let me finish making the tea, and then you can tell me what's happening, okay?"

You finally turn and meet his eye. "Okay," you mumble, and then slip away from him and pad towards the sofa.

Izuku busies himself with the tea, as promised, feeling steadier in himself. He still doesn't know where he stands with you, and maybe he won't, today. But Izuku does know fear when he sees it, and he also knows that he won't leave until that fear in you has been extinguished.

Chapter Text

You sit on your sofa, staring blankly at your TV and listening to Midoriya busy himself in your kitchen. It is so like the last time he was at your apartment, and yet so horribly different.

You could tell Midoriya realised that his sudden arrival had shocked you, but you don’t want to admit to him that the repeated knocking at the door had frightened you into crouching on the floor, back against the wall with your phone clutched in your hand. The relief of realising it was him was so strong it was almost unbearable, and seeing his flushed, earnest face had melted the last reserves inside you. You know you should have told him you were fine and turned him away, but you were too weak to see him leave.

It had stung to hear Midoriya apologise to you. You'd pushed him away and treated him so coolly all week, and he had still come instantly when you needed help, yet he felt he had to apologise? You close your eyes as a wave of guilt and self-loathing washes over you. You were just trying to protect yourself; the last thing you had wanted to do was make Midoriya feel bad.

“Here you go,” Midoriya’s soft voice says, and you open your eyes to see him carefully place your tea on the coffee table in front of you. He holds his own cup, and turns to you hesitantly. “Is it okay if I sit next to you?”

You bite your lip. “Of course it is! God, I’m sorry, please don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me or anything. I’m okay, and I’m not mad Ueno called you.”

Midoriya’s face lights up, and he sits next to you without further questioning. He’s wearing a light pink Uravity sweatshirt that looks ridiculously soft, the sleeves slightly pushed up his well-muscled forearms, and you’ve never seen anyone look quite so huggable before in your life. Despite your low mood, you feel yourself starting to relax in tiny increments. Midoriya just makes you feel so safe.

Midoriya rubs the back of his neck, as though unsure how to start the conversation. “So, Ueno said something about a letter?”

“I should have known she wouldn’t let it go,” you say wryly. “Yeah, it’s probably nothing. It just surprised me a bit when I opened it, and since Ueno was on the phone with me, she got the full effect of my surprise.”

Midoriya gives you a small smile, but his eyes are sharply focused on you. “Can I ask what it was about?”

“Um,” you hesitate for a split second, but your thin resolve not to lean on Midoriya has already been shattered by his presence here. “Yes. I guess you probably would know what to do about it better than me, anyway. Here, I’ll just let you read it yourself.”

Midoriya nods agreeably, and you quickly fetch the envelope. You've kept everything as intact as possible since first opening it, just in case you needed to keep a record of it for anything. Handing it to Midoriya, you sit back down and watch nervously.

You see him turn the envelope over in his hands before he even opens it, noting the lack of postmark or stamp, just as you did the night before. Midoriya frowns thoughtfully as he studies it, and starts mumbling to himself, but you understand that the words are for his thought process, rather than part of a conversation, and so you just let the sound of his voice soothe you without responding.

He takes out the article and the letter, and abruptly you can’t watch anymore, the memory of your own fear at reading it still too vivid. You turn your head jerkily and stare at the TV, which is silently playing a news channel in the background. You hear the shuffle of paper, and Midoriya stops mumbling. For a long moment, there is complete quiet in the room. Then the sofa cushion dips as he leans forward, carefully placing the envelope and its contents on the coffee table.

“Hey,” he says softly, and you finally look back at him.

Though he had spoken gently, Midoriya is drawn in lines of tension as he leans towards you, like every millimetre of his body is vibrating with harnessed energy. Green fire blazes in his eyes, wide and unblinking as he gazes at you.

"I'm going to take care of this, okay? You don't need to worry about it at all - you're safe with me, I promise." He speaks in a low, earnest tone that has you believing unfailingly in the protection he promises.

"Okay," you say, unable to manage more in the face of Midoriya's sudden intensity.

"Good! I'll just be a few minutes, alright? You should try to relax and drink your tea," he says, flashing you a brief smile, then galvanising into action.

Stepping away from the sofa politely, Midoriya makes a phone call that has him waving his free hand around emphatically. You're barely able to keep up with the rapid flow of his conversation, but get the gist that he is talking to a police contact, or something similar. He pauses to take some quick photos, then dives right back into another call.

You sit and sip your tea obediently, glancing between the TV and Midoriya as he works. You can admit to yourself that it is a relief to have him take control, though it’s equally as embarrassing to be the centre of yet another problem he has to solve. Guilt still swirls around in your stomach when you think of how you have treated Midoriya this week, only to fold in on your resolution the instant he offered you a hand. You definitely owe him an apology.

When Midoriya eventually finishes on the phone, you join him standing in front of your kitchen table, where he had neatly spread the article, letter and envelope out so he could take photos.

“So, um, what’s happening now?” you ask quietly.

Midoriya tilts his head and his eyes crinkle in a small smile. “Well, first of all you should know that I’ve confirmed that Cthulhu is still safely imprisoned. So if you were at all worried about that, please don’t be!”

“I won’t lie, that is a relief,” you say honestly. “Logically I didn’t really believe it was him, but the thought was always in the back of my mind anyway, you know?”

Midoriya's eyes are so kind. "I would feel the same, which is exactly why I checked!"

"So do you think it was just a random person who admired Cthulhu, or something?"

"Mm, we don't know yet," Midoriya says with a small frown. "It's definitely possible, though. There are other news articles that mention you to be from a local children's home, and all the local children's homes list their staff by name on their websites. Shouto also found out that your address has been illegally listed online for junk mail, so it would be quite easy for someone determined to track you down."

You blanch and stare at the floor, inwardly cursing yourself for not paying more attention to your own privacy online. Midoriya notices you gripping the back of the chair in front of you, and steps a little closer, ducking his head until he catches your eye again.

"But it's okay now!" he says hurriedly. "I've reported the address thing to the cyber safety department with the police, and I've filed an official report of threatening mail for you. You'll probably still need to sign a statement, but the officers know me so they should make it easy for you!" He gives you an encouraging smile.

"This all seems to be so normal for you," you say, not bothering to hide your sudden embarrassment. "Something like this stupid letter must be small fry compared to the things you deal with. It feels silly to have been intimidated by it."

Midoriya makes a sound of protest. "No, absolutely not! It doesn't matter how big or small something is, a threat is a threat. And you know, most people would be intimidated - I mean, that was the whole point of that letter! So please don't underestimate it, or yourself."

"You're right, I guess it's just another form of bullying, in the end." Which is what you had told yourself last night, but saying it with Midoriya feels very different to when you were alone.

"Exactly!" Midoriya gives you a fierce smile. "And you should know by now that I won't let you be bullied. It-"

"Wouldn't be heroic," you finish his sentence, and Midoriya beams at you.

Bathed in his shining positivity, you stand up straight and look him squarely in the face. "Midoriya… I don't know how to thank you. I feel like I'm constantly taking advantage of your kindness, it doesn't seem fair."

Midoriya's expression dims a little as you speak, the smile slipping away. "It's not taking advantage, we're friends, that's what friends do for each other," he says, and then a flicker of pained hesitance crosses his face. "Um, we… we are-"

"Yes! God, yes, of course we're friends," you burst out, suddenly desperate at the way his brow is furrowing. Your fingernails dig into the wood of the chair back. "Of course we're friends," you repeat, quieter this time.

Midoriya lets out a long breath. "I'm really glad." There is nothing but open honesty and relief in his words. A knife twists in your heart.

"Look, Midoriya, I should apologise-"

"Ah, please, you have nothing to be sorry for!"

You stare at your knuckles, too much of a coward to meet his gaze now. "No, I really do. I'm sorry for being distant this week. I haven't treated you nicely. You shouldn't have to worry about whether we're friends or not. I’m so sorry."

There is a long moment of silence.

"I won't lie, I was worried about it," Midoriya admits eventually. "I won't ask you to tell me why unless you want to. I'm sure you had your reasons, and I don't want to pry. But," he continues, and you see his body language freeze into a posture of tension. "I do have to ask why you didn't come to me, or even one of my friends, about the letter. Protecting people from threats is literally a hero's job. Do you not feel you can trust us to protect you?" His voice sinks, low and unsteady. "Do you not trust me?"

Horror twists that knife in your chest again, and your breath catches painfully. You had been so concerned about protecting yourself from getting hurt, so convinced that Midoriya and the others were out of your reach, that you hadn't even considered you could hurt him back. Sure, you knew you had been cold, maybe even rude, and had known that would be upsetting to a degree. But Midoriya was doubting himself because of you, truly hurt by the idea that you didn't trust him.

"Fuck," you whisper. "I've messed this all up so badly."

Suddenly shaking, you turn and fling your arms around Midoriya, ignoring his gasp of surprise and burying your face in his shoulder. His sweatshirt is as soft to touch as it looks.

"God, I'm so sorry, Midoriya." Your words are muffled as you press against him. "Of course I trust you, and your friends as well, I would literally trust you with my life, please believe me!" You hold onto him fiercely, desperation to reassure overcoming any bashfulness you might have had.

Midoriya's arms finally come around your shoulders, and he returns your embrace with interest, gathering you in tightly. He's so wonderfully warm and solid.

"Then why?" he mumbles into the top of your head. "Why didn't you come to me for help, like you did for Yuki?"

You grit your teeth. Part of you wants to spill everything, tell him how you can only rely on yourself, how everyone and everything always falls apart for you in the end. Midoriya would understand. But the last dregs of your self-preservation instincts stick in your throat and stop the words from forming.

"I… It’s hard to explain," you choke out in the end, hating yourself for such a lame response. You close your eyes briefly, knowing you owe him more than that.

You let out a long breath before trying again. "I think I didn’t want to be a burden, especially when you’ve done so much to help me already. But Midoriya, please, you have to believe that it's a reflection on me, not on you! You've only ever been wonderful to me."

Midoriya sighs shakily, chest moving against yours, breath stirring across your head. "Okay," he says eventually. "It’s okay, I believe you. But you’re not a burden to me, not ever."

You bury your fingers in the back of his sweatshirt, clinging onto him. "Thank you," you whisper. You suspect Midoriya knows that there is more to it than the little truth you’ve offered up, but in his gentleness he doesn’t push you, for which you’re pathetically grateful.

"No, thank you for telling me that, it really means a lot to me. But I need you to promise me something." He rubs a gentle circle on your back. "Since you say you trust us, if something is dangerous, scary, or threatening, you tell one of us, even if you hate having to do it. If it's to do with your safety, you have to promise to come to us, okay?"

You nod immediately, knowing you owe him this much. “I promise I will, and I’m sorry again that I made you think I didn’t trust you, I really do. In fact, I’ve never met anyone so trustworthy in my life,” you say into his shoulder.

It’s the bare truth, and you silently wish you were brave enough to follow through on your trust and just tell him everything. But even getting this far, even breaking your decision to distance yourself from him, feels like a miracle already.

Midoriya’s arms tighten around you, and his cheek rubs softly against your head. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “I couldn’t bear for you to get hurt because you didn’t trust us to help."

You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat, and desperately will yourself not to cry. Midoriya's care warms you inside, mingling with the coldness that remains from your guilt.

For a long moment you both stand there, tangled in a tight hug. Midoriya smells amazing, and the feel of his strong but gentle arms around you is addictive, but eventually you force yourself to pull away.

Midoriya’s face is flushed, bright spots of pink on his cheeks highlighting his freckles, but his expression is complicated. He smiles at you, but there is a line pinched between his brows and a tightness around his eyes. Pleased as he might be that you had promised to turn to the heroes for help, he still seems worried about you. You yearn to smooth the line of tension away with your fingertips.

Biting your lip, you decide to attempt another explanation. “Uh, I guess that, apart from the burden thing, there’s other stuff, too.” Your words come out in jerky fits and starts. Why is this so hard, when you know Midoriya is so trustworthy and nonjudgmental? “I don’t know if I can talk about it right now, but I promise I will explain myself more when I-”

“No, don’t, it’s okay!” He cuts you off, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “You don’t owe me anything, and I don’t want you to have to promise something you can’t willingly give.” Midoriya’s smile turns a little crooked, but is still filled with warmth.

You try not to wince; he’s always offering so much to you, and you know you’re not giving him much to work with in return right now. But you can’t deny that he is right - despite your urge to smooth things over, it still feels impossible to open yourself up that far to him.

The conversation lapses, and you glance around your apartment, wondering where to go from here. Midoriya shuffles a little, clearly feeling the same awkwardness you are.

“Um, you didn’t get a chance to drink your tea,” you say hesitantly. “Would you like a fresh one? I think I have some cookies somewhere as well, if you’re hungry.”

Midoriya perks up, his expression lightening. “Oh, thanks, that sounds nice!”

Glad to have something practical to focus on after the intensity of the last conversation, you bustle about the kitchen, making fresh tea and finding the promised cookies, which are cutesy, green tea flavoured snacks in the shape of animals - you hadn’t been able to resist buying them when you’d spotted them in the shop.

You encourage Midoriya to switch the TV over to something he’d like to watch, rather than just silently playing the news, and so you find yourself once again ensconced on the sofa and watching reruns of old All Might cartoons with him.

The tea, cookies, and All Might’s dentally-healthy smile, go a long way towards softening the atmosphere, and you are relieved to see the tension slowly fade from Midoriya’s face.

As Midoriya had predicted, the police do call you directly for your statement, and much quicker than you had expected - the influence of Pro Hero Deku being involved, you suspect. As you find yourself recounting how you had found the letter, you are grateful yet again for Midoriya’s steady presence beside you. He gives you encouraging thumbs up when you occasionally falter, embarrassed to be giving details about your life to a faceless officer on the phone, and looks pleased when you smile in return.

Eventually, the tea has been drunk, there are only scattered green crumbs left on the cookie plate, and Midoriya gets a phone call from a friend that has him glancing at you apologetically.

“Um, I need to head off now,” he says, checking the time on his phone before he stuffs it back in his pocket. “I promised my friend Tsuyu - oh, you might know her as Froppy - that I would help her move house this afternoon.” He watches you intently. “Are you going to be okay on your own? The police have everything in hand for now, but if you’d feel safer if I stay, I will!”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, that’s okay, I’ll be fine. I feel much better about the whole letter thing now that you’ve helped me actually deal with it. You go and help your friend, I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” You give him a small smile. “Perks of having a strength enhancing quirk, huh? You end up being everyone’s removal service.”

Midoriya laughs easily, and the sound of it peals in your chest like a clear bell. “Yep, you’d never believe how many sofas I’ve moved over the years!”

He helps you take the empty cups and plates through to the kitchen, and then you both head to the door, pausing as Midoriya slips his red shoes on. The fact of Midoriya leaving inevitably turns your thoughts to how you’d normally follow up a visit with messages and chatter for the rest of the day - and how much you had missed that in the past week.

Midoriya straightens from his shoes, and hesitates for an instant before leaning in to give you a brief hug.

“Remember your promise, okay? Call us if you need us,” he says, holding your gaze seriously.

“I will,” you agree with a quick nod. Midoriya smiles at you sweetly, gives you a small wave, and then is out of the door before you can even say goodbye.

Head whirling with a morning’s worth of intense emotions and thoughts, you let your body go through the motions of doing the dishes, the familiarity of the simple chore giving your mind free rein to process everything.

Distancing yourself from Midoriya had done no good. Rather than protecting yourself, you had just ended up hurting Midoriya and making yourself miserable.

You know now, deep in your bones, that it is pointless to try to shut him out anymore. Midoriya has somehow become closer to you than you had realised, and you've leaned on him more than you have done to anyone in years.

Things aren’t quite back to the way they were before, not yet, but the time you have just spent relaxing and joking together shows that your friendship will be able to move on from what you did to it, especially if you can climb the mountain of self-reflection that you realise you’re now facing. You wonder how you can repay Midoriya’s kindness to you, when he seems to need nothing, and you need everything.

You pull out your phone, suddenly needing to reassure yourself that the silence from the week is banished for good.

You [12:53pm]
Hey, thanks again for this morning. Hope you get some lunch before your heavy lifting - I’ll try and have more food in the house than just cookies next time!

You don’t even manage to slip your phone back in your pocket before a reply comes through. The buzzing of the notification is a relief, like a breath of life into the dead weight your phone had become in the last few days.

Midoriya [12:54pm]
Any time! :) Haha that’s okay, I love those cookies! I’ll show you the strawberry ones sometime, I always have a supply at home in case Uraraka comes by, they’re really good!

You smile, warmth filling your chest as you reread the message over and over. It seems filled with a promise for the future, like Midoriya is telling you in his own gentle way that you’re already moving forward.

As you feel the strength of your affection for him spreading through your body, you hold on to the quiet, desperate hope that there is some way you can come out of this friendship without having your heart broken.

Chapter Text

“Hey.”

“Oh, Yuzuna! Everything okay?” One arm already in your jacket, you turn and smile at the girl as she hovers in the doorway to the office.

“Inaba wants you in the living room,” she says, rolling her eyes at being made into a messenger.

You sigh dramatically. “Should’ve known better than to think I could actually leave this morning, huh?”

Yuzuna snorts, and you share a knowing smile; it had been an eventful night. The home has suffered from a flurry of colds and flu cases over the past week, and last night was particularly rough - several of the youngest children had succumbed to high temperatures, and barely an hour had passed uninterrupted by fever dreams and miserable, crying toddlers.

“Lets see what’s going on, then,” you say, striding towards the living room, and are amused to find Yuzuna following you like a quiet, frowning shadow. She may act aloof, but Yuzuna is probably one of the most sensitive and caring teenagers you know.

You find Inaba with a small group of children, gathered around a low table with the TV on in the background. There are coloured pencils and pens scattered across the table, and you think you recognise a Pro Hero colouring book amongst the clutter, but every head in the room is turned to the TV, currently playing what seems to be a news channel dedicated to Pro Hero updates. You see a familiar head of green hair and bright smile, surrounded by a ring of journalists bristling with cameras and microphones.

“Oh! Deku’s in the news again?”

Inaba turns at the sound of your voice, nodding to you from his lounged position on the carpet. He opens his mouth to reply, but Riku bowls into the conversation before he can say anything.

“Deku!!” the small boy cries victoriously, fists clenching in the air. “Wham!”

Inaba raises an amused eyebrow. “That about sums it up,” he agrees. “Deku. Wham.”

You laugh as the other children chime in with more excited sound effects and scrambled explanations, the noise of which has Yuzuna leaving the chaotic room with a huff, and you eventually gather that Midoriya had been in an impressive showdown with a villain during the night, and had come out victorious.

Though you’re always glad to see Midoriya on the news, him beating a villain isn’t anything particularly new or unusual - a fact which fills you with pride for your friend’s power and success as a hero - so you look back at Inaba questioningly.

“Just wanted me to see that? Or did you need something else before I go?”

Inaba pats the carpet, still lounging casually, and you obligingly kneel beside him. “Deku was here the other day, right?” he asks quietly, as the children break off into their own excited conversations.

“Yes, on Wednesday. How come?”

Inaba hums thoughtfully. “I thought so. That was the day Yuki was at his worst, right?”

You give a little mock shudder in remembrance. “Yeah, you should be glad you weren’t working that day, it was hellish. Yuki didn’t sleep at all the night before because of his temperature, and only barely agreed to rest in the afternoon because Midoriya told him that all the best heroes have naps, and then personally tucked him into bed.” It had been absolutely adorable to watch Midoriya tucking the grumpy little boy into his blankets, patting his head until Yuki yawned and succumbed to sleep.

“Well,” Inaba says, tapping his lip with one long finger and then gazing at the interview still playing in the background. “I was just thinking that Deku looks a bit more tired than normal…” he trails off, and you follow his gaze to the TV.

Inaba is right, you realise, as you focus properly on Midoriya’s face. He is smiling and talking animatedly as always, but there are dark smudges under his eyes, and an unnatural flush on his otherwise pale cheeks. The camera angle shifts to a close up, and you can’t help the noise of concern that leaves your throat as you see the glassiness in his eyes.

To anyone else, these might be subtle changes, but you have spent the week looking at these exact same symptoms in the children.

“He’s sick,” you say with a frown. You get to your feet immediately. “Hey, Inaba? Is this interview recent?”

Inaba glances at you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “No, this is just a recap of the night’s events, and I think the interview itself was recorded much earlier this morning.”

“Okay, thanks. Um, well, I’m just going to head off now,” you say, trying to sound casual, though Inaba’s amused expression as he nods agreeably suggests that you don’t quite manage it.

Gathering up your bag and coat, you say goodbye to the children and walk briskly towards the door.

Inaba’s teasing voice follows you out at the last second with a knowing “Tell lovely Deku get better soon from me!”, and you shut the door with a little more force than necessary as his distant laughter echoes in your ears.

“Bastard,” you mutter, cheeks hot with embarrassment. You don’t know how Inaba figured out your crush on Midoriya, but you are horribly certain that he won’t let it go easily.

Outside, in the relative quiet of the morning, you stand and stare at your phone for a moment, before shaking your head decisively and dialling Midoriya’s number. It rings and rings, then clicks over to a cheerful voicemail message. You scramble to think of what to say.

“Hey, Midoriya, it’s me. I just wanted to check that you’re okay, you seemed a little off in your interview this morning. Anyway, I’m sure you’re probably busy hero-ing or something, but maybe you could let me know when you get this message? Okay, bye.”

You hang up quickly, holding back a cringe at your own rambling. If there’s anything more awkward than speaking on the phone, it’s leaving a voicemail for someone.

The walk to the station passes faster than normal, as you scroll through news feeds on your phone, examining pictures of Midoriya so closely that you should feel ashamed, but can only manage a mounting feeling of concern. If he has caught something off the children, will he tell his friends, so they can look after him? You know his mum doesn’t live too close by, and knowing Midoriya, you suspect that he wouldn’t want to worry her anyway.

The urge to make sure he is alright eventually grows too strong to ignore, and you pause outside the station, tucking yourself away from the flow of morning commuter traffic so you can use your phone more easily. Making a quick decision before you can second guess yourself, you dial Uraraka’s number.

“Good morning, Cake!” she answers cheerily after the second ring, her voice just as bubbly and sweet on the phone as in person. “You’ve never called me before, is everything okay?”

“Hi Uraraka,” you say hastily. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you! Sorry if I startled you.” You should have known that a random call might trigger a concerned response in any of Midoriya’s friends, considering their well-honed hero instincts.

“That’s okay, I’m glad you’re alright! So, what’s up? I’m afraid Deku isn’t here if you’re trying to reach him, he headed home from the agency a little while ago!”

“Oh, um, that’s good to know. Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about him,” you say, and are encouraged by Uraraka’s little hum of curiosity. “We saw him in the news this morning, and he didn’t seem himself. He seemed more tired than normal. We’ve had a bout of the flu going around the home, and I was worried that maybe he might have caught something. Did he mention anything to you? I tried calling him but he didn’t answer.” You let out a long breath as you finish speaking, somewhat embarrassed by your sudden tirade, and hope that Uraraka doesn’t think you’re a weird stalker.

“Aw, the poor children!” Uraraka says sympathetically. “Hmm, Deku didn’t say anything about being ill - well, not to me, anyway. Hang on, let me ask Shouto!”

You hear some rustling and footsteps in the background, then pull the phone away from your ear slightly as Uraraka calls for Todoroki in a surprisingly powerful bellow. There is a short conversation, the low notes of Todoroki’s calm voice carrying through the phone speaker as he answers a storm of questions from Uraraka.

Eventually she comes back to the call, slightly breathless. “So, he didn’t say anything to Shouto either, but we both agree that you’re right, he did seem a bit off.” You detect what sounds like a frown in her voice now, rather than her usual smile. “And apparently he took his paperwork home with him, which he doesn’t normally do. Plus he hasn’t answered any of our messages, but that’s pretty normal after a night shift.”

Shuffling your feet, you steel your nerves as you decide now is the time to go for what you called her for. “Um, tell me to drop it if this is too invasive, but do you know his address?”

Uraraka just laughs, light and unconcerned. “Of course! Deku wouldn’t mind me giving it to you, especially if you’re going to go and visit him! Shouto and I are both working today, so we will honestly be relieved that we don’t have to worry about him. It’s pretty common for us heroes to be stupid and keep going when we feel ill or get hurt or whatever, and Deku has always been much worse than the rest of us at that.”

It’s all too easy to believe what Uraraka is saying, when you think of Midoriya’s earnest generosity. “That is worrying,” you say with a frown. “And yet it doesn’t surprise me at all. He’s so selfless and good that I bet he never thinks of himself. So yes, I’m going to visit him, and take care of him.”

You hear Todoroki murmur "I think those two are going to make me ill at this rate,” in the background, and you flush silently as Uraraka snorts with ungraceful laughter.

She promises to send you a text with Midoriya’s address, and then has to rush off the call as someone in the agency shouts her name. Sure enough, though, her message comes through before you’ve even had a chance to lock your phone.

Uraraka [08.56am]
Alright, address is below! Let me or Shouto know if it does turn out Deku needs anything, but I’m sure you have it all in hand!! :) oh, and tell him not to worry about his paperwork until he's back in the office, don’t let him give you any excuses!!

Pulling up a map app, you plot your journey to Midoriya’s address, making sure to include a stop at a nearby convenience store.

“Alright, Midoriya,” you mutter, ignoring the quizzical look you receive from a passing businessman. “Time to pay you a home visit. There's no heroically hiding illnesses on my watch.”

~

You weren't sure what to expect of Midoriya's place, but it turns out to be a very normal and nice apartment building. Somewhat bigger than your own, it also looks better kept and more modern, but is still surprisingly humble compared to what you imagine a top Pro Hero's income could afford.

Following Uraraka's instructions, you make your way up to the top floor. It's not a skyscraping building by any means, but as the elevator climbs, you imagine the views must still be wonderful.

The hand holding your newly acquired grocery bag gets sweaty as you approach Midoriya's door, nervous yet determined to follow through on your plan, and you tighten your grip on the plastic handle.

It takes a couple of rings of the doorbell before you hear anything from inside Midoriya's apartment, and you can't help but think this is a strange parallel to his recent visit to your place.

The sound of footsteps is immediately followed by a pause, and then the door suddenly swinging open. Midoriya stands there, eyes wide and hair tousled as he stares at you. He's barefoot, wearing a pair of plaid pyjama pants, with the same comfortable-looking Red Riot t-shirt that he wore to sleep at your apartment after the cake incident.

"Um, hi!" he says, looking surprised, though not displeased, you think.

"Hi." Despite your worry for him, you find your heart is lifted to see him, so you give him a big smile, and rustle your grocery bag. "Can I come in? This is heavy!"

Midoriya blinks and then steps back quickly, ushering you in with solicitous hand gestures. "Sorry, yes, come in! Can I help you with that?"

You chuckle as you toe your shoes off. "Actually, I'm hoping I can help you with it."

Midoriya looks bemused, but you don't bother to explain, knowing it all will be clear soon enough.

"Hey, where's your kitchen?"

"Oh, um, just through here!" Midoriya leads you down a short hallway and into a spacious, open-plan living space. The kitchen and dining area are on one side, and a comfortable living area is on the other. The whole apartment is filled with colour from the various types of hero merchandise scattered around the space - in your first glance alone you see at least three All Might posters, a set of Red Riot weights, and a Dynamight plushie - and you grin at this homely display of Midoriya's fanboy nature.

You see to your satisfaction that it is much lighter in here than it was in the entryway, with the morning sunlight streaming in through large windows. Putting your bag down on the kitchen island, you walk to the window and beckon Midoriya over to you. He is watching you, wide-eyed and confused, but follows obediently.

"What-"

"Can you just humour me and let me look at you for a second?" you interrupt him gently, and step forward to get a proper look at him when he nods.

The sunlight glances off his hair, highlighting the green in those dark curls and making them shine. But, you note with a frown, that's pretty much the only healthy looking part of Midoriya right now.

You hadn't been able to tell in the dimmer light of the doorway, but there is a pallidness to Midoriya's skin, only enhanced by a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. That unnatural flush is still present, high on his cheeks, and his eyes are glossy in the way only a fever looks.

"Midoriya…" you murmur, reaching up to press the back of your hand to his forehead. "You're really sick, huh?"

He closes his eyes the instant you touch him, leaning into your hand ever so slightly. His skin is hot to touch, and your mouth pulls into a sympathetic grimace.

"I'm fine, I'm just a bit tired," he says, a smile wavering about his face.

You pull your hand away, and frown at him as he opens his eyes. "Look, I've been looking after the children with this all week, so I know the symptoms. You're sick."

"... Yeah, maybe a little." Midoriya’s shoulders sag, as if all the fight has instantly bled out of him. It actually takes you aback somewhat - you'd been expecting him to put up much more resistance. He must be feeling really lousy.

"That's okay," you say gently, as the small smile slips off his face. "That's why I'm here, to look after you!"

He looks at you with a heartbreaking amount of surprise, as if that was the last thing he’d expected you to say, then waves his hands apologetically. "No, no, you don't have to do that! Honestly, I'll be fine!"

"Midoriya, it's really okay, and actually, I insist. I want to. You've already done so much for me, can you let me do this for you now?" You see him wavering on the edge of giving in, and go in for the kill. "I'd really feel so much better if I can help you, it'll only make me worry on my own all day otherwise."

Wincing inwardly, you wonder whether that was a bit strong, but after a long, considering gaze at you, Midoriya just nods.

"Okay, if it will make you feel better," he says quietly, and you smile warmly at him. “I do need to finish doing my incident paperwork, though.”

You shake your head firmly. “Nope, I’ve checked with Uraraka and she said it can wait until you’re back at the agency.” Midoriya’s eyebrows shoot up, and you grin victoriously. “And you’ve told me before how scary she is, so I'm expecting your best behaviour now, no more work!"

Midoriya huffs a soft laugh, more reserved than his usual bright smile, and you wonder if his head is hurting. "I'll be good then," he says agreeably. A slight shiver runs through him then, and you look at him with concern.

"First things first, you need to put another layer on, and possibly a blanket, and then get yourself comfy on the sofa, okay?"

Midoriya shuffles off to follow your instructions, and your heart goes out to him when you see the slow, careful way he's moving, as if his body is delicate glass, so different from his usual healthy energy. You quickly make yourself at home while he’s gone, setting out some of your purchased supplies - medicine, bottled water, and light snacks - on the low coffee table, and making some hot tea with honey.

You're just figuring out Midoriya's TV remote when he returns, bundled up in a hoodie with an All Might blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a snuggly cape. You wheedle him into lying on the sofa, and help tuck the blanket around him securely. He goes where you tell him, biddable and quiet, and watches you the whole time, eyes bright with the sheen of sickness, and something you think is gratitude.

"Alright, you have All Might on the TV, honey tea for your throat - don't refuse, you're already starting to sound hoarse - and the blanket to keep you warm," you say, ticking off each point on your fingers. You suspect you might be babying him, but it's hard to shake the habit after nursing children all week. Plus, seeing Midoriya so out of sorts is uncomfortable, and you want to do anything you can to get the spark back in his smile.

"Thank you," Midoriya says huskily, his face a pale shadow poking out of the blanket nest you'd built him.

"That's okay, you just rest for a bit, now. I'm going to go ahead and assume you haven't eaten anything decent today?" You tut dramatically when Midoriya shakes his head sheepishly, but soften it with a smile. "That's fine, I brought some food, so I'll make something. You tell me if you need anything, okay?"

Midoriya nods, and you bustle away to start cooking. The kitchen and living area are technically in the same open-plan room, but with Midoriya snuggled down on the sofa, you can't actually see him from the kitchen. Putting uncertain faith in him to follow orders and call you over if he gets worse, you set about making him a solid meal.

Midoriya’s kitchen is well set up, and a little bigger than your own, so cooking there is a pleasure. Luckily, you’ve had a lot of practice making okayu this week for the children, so you go through the motions of putting together the healthy rice porridge without having to think too hard about it.

As you cook, the familiar sounds of the old All Might cartoon float gently across the open room, and you smile, despite knowing Midoriya can’t see it.

“You can change the channel, you know,” you call across to him, amused. “I only put that on because I recognised it, but you always end up having to watch that with me. I know you’re a fan, but even you must have limits, right?”

Midoriya makes a small noise that you think is a protest. “I like it, though,” he says, and then murmurs something you can’t quite catch.

“What’s that?” You lean across the kitchen island, hoping you might be able to pick up his words a little easier.

“I like it,” he repeats, voice so soft you can barely catch it. “It reminds me of you.”

You’re selfishly glad for Midoriya’s sudden coughing fit that prevents the conversation from going any further, as you feel your face suddenly become burning hot. Your heart skitters in your chest, and you close your eyes, seeking some semblance of calm. This is not a good time to remember your dangerous crush on Midoriya, not when he is so soft and vulnerable and open.

You distract yourself with finishing the okayu, serving up two steaming bowls once it is ready; you hadn’t had a big breakfast yourself, that morning. Carrying them across the room, you rake an assessing gaze over Midoriya once he is in your view.

Concern wells up in you at his slumped figure. He looks so small, curled up on the sofa, his normal air of vigour and capability nowhere to be seen. Midoriya is so strong and fit, but his athleticism means nothing now, when he’s hunched over and shivering.

“Hey,” you say softly, putting the bowls down and kneeling in front of him. “Are you feeling worse than before?”

“Mhm,” he manages, which you take to be an agreement.

You rest your hand on his forehead again, brushing damp curls away so you can test his temperature. Just like before, he closes his eyes and leans into your touch, like a sleepy cat, and you firmly ignore the way it makes you feel like you’re melting inside. Midoriya feels hotter than last time, burning under your fingers.

“I think your temperature has gone up,” you tell him. “Do you have a headache? Shivers? Aches and pains?”

Midoriya nods at each of your questions, and you hum sympathetically. Sorting through the medicine you’d brought, you find the paracetamol and pop two out of the blister pack.

“Okay, you should take these, then. They’ll help with the headache and hopefully bring your fever down a bit.” You’re certain that Midoriya knows this already - he is an adult just like you, and was confident in his own first aid skills when you were the one hurt - but you can’t help your gentle explanation.

“‘Kay. Thanks.” Midoriya croaks, then takes the proffered pills and water, swallowing them with a pained wince and an attempt at a grateful smile. You hold back a sigh at how purely miserable he looks, wishing you could do more to make him feel better.

“You should try and drink a good amount of water now, and maybe have a few spoons of the okayu to settle your stomach, okay, sweetheart?” Caught up in trying to coax him into following your suggestions, the pet name slips out of your mouth before you have a chance to realise what you’re saying, and you freeze in horror.

Midoriya stares back at you, eyes wide, and you watch as a hot flush creeps up his neck and suffuses his face.

“Oh, um, sorry!” you scramble to backtrack, your own face immediately fiery with embarrassment. “Just used to talking to the kid- Midoriya?” You cut yourself off, immediately concerned when you notice that his eyes are filling with tears, and he is biting his lip. “Oh god, are you okay?”

Midoriya chuckles damply, a couple of tears spilling down his red cheeks before he brushes them away. “I’m fine,” he says, trying to reassure you despite how his voice is thick with soreness and tears. “It’s just… thank you for being so nice to me.”

“What?” You can’t quite comprehend what he is thanking you for, but he just smiles weakly at your confusion.

“Don’t worry, I always get emotional when I’m sick. Hey, will you sit here with me for a bit, if I eat something?” He wipes away a final few tears, and indicates the two bowls of okayu waiting on the coffee table, looking at you hopefully.

“Of course!” More than glad to take the distraction and leave your extreme embarrassment aside, you scramble to your feet and pick up the bowls as Midoriya shuffles to make room for you.

You eat in companionable silence, though Midoriya only manages a small amount before he puts the bowl aside in weary defeat. Still, when you put your own empty bowl down, you notice that he has finished his tea, and even drunk almost a full bottle of water, so you count that as a decent success for now.

Aside from the TV’s background rumblings, it is quiet for so long that you are almost startled when Midoriya speaks up suddenly.

“My head hurts,” he admits, eyebrows pinched together.

You frown, knowing you can’t give him any more painkillers yet. “I’m sorry,” you say sympathetically, and then sit up straight when an idea occurs to you. “Oh, wait here and I’ll get you a cool cloth, that might help a little-”

“No!” Midoriya’s hand shoots out from under his blanket, grasping your elbow to stop you from getting up. “No,” he repeats, a little quieter. “No, thank you. Can you just… Is it okay if I…”

Curious, you hold carefully still as he shuffles around on the sofa, and then you catch your breath as he tentatively lays his head in your lap. He shoots you an uncertain look before he rests his weight completely.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, and you wonder faintly on what planet this could not be okay.

“Of course it is,” you murmur, and he settles in with a small sigh.

Feeling almost unbearably soft for the hero in your lap, you bravely let your hand rest on his head, and brush your fingers through his tousled hair. His curls are soft, and warm from the feverish skin on his scalp. Midoriya’s eyes close instantly, and he sighs again, relaxing bonelessly into your touch.

You feel his breathing smooth and lengthen as you stroke his hair, until you’re fairly certain that Midoriya is completely asleep in your lap. The weight of him against you, solid and hot with fever, is surprisingly soothing, and you rest your head back against the sofa. Despite the circumstance of Midoriya’s illness, you feel fuzzy with happiness.

Tired from your long night, your own eyelids eventually slip closed, and you fall asleep with your fingers in Midoriya’s hair, and a small smile on your lips.

~

Izuku drifts in and out of wakefulness, his head muzzy and heavy with his fever. His cheek rests against a soothing, solid warmth, and there are gentle fingers on his head.

He smiles in his drowsiness, thinking that cuddling with you is probably the nicest dream he has had in a long time. Giving himself up to the comforting sound of your quiet breathing, he lets himself slip back down into a peaceful sleep, feeling completely and utterly safe.

Chapter Text

You wake up disoriented but content, feeling cosy and sleepy as you open your eyes to regard the unfamiliar ceiling above you.

Slowly becoming aware of the rest of your body, you feel the warm weight of a head in your lap, and the gentle pressure of shoulders pressed against your thigh. Blinking dazedly, you glance down, and smile as memory begins to return with full wakefulness.

Midoriya is sleeping in your lap, head resting on your legs, body curled up along the length of the sofa beside you. You're relieved to see him breathing slow and evenly, clearly in a restful deep sleep, which is exactly what he needs right now.

Moving slowly so as not to jostle him, you gently smooth the hair off his forehead. His face is flushed and still hot to touch, but the fever feels marginally better than earlier, and he looks peaceful; hopefully the medicine is helping to ease his discomfort.

You gaze down at him for a long while, hand resting on his forehead, and eyes tracing the pattern of freckles across his sleeping face. You hadn't noticed before, but there is the barest suggestion of stubble beginning to show after his long night, smudged along the sweet angle of his jaw, and you tear your eyes away before your fingertips can start yearning to touch.

There is something so unbearably vulnerable about Midoriya when he is sleeping, you think. When he is awake, his energy and inner fire shine in every movement and smile, but like this, he is peaceful and completely unguarded. It feels like a gift to spend this time with him, and to have a chance to repay the consistent kindness he has given you.

You wish you could stay comfy like this forever, but the bathroom is calling you, and when you glance at the wall clock - a kitsch thing with Kamui Woods themed branches for hands - you're mildly shocked to see that your accidental nap has passed the morning completely, and it's already lunchtime. Luckily, you hadn't planned to do much with your day off, and napping with Midoriya was certainly not a bad way to spend the morning.

Holding your breath, you ease yourself out from under Midoriya, supporting the weight of his head until you can slide a cushion under him to replace your legs. He murmurs sleepily as you shift him, just soft, mumbled nonsense words, but doesn't wake up, and you sigh with relief when he settles back to quiet breathing again.

Now freed, you stretch out the stiffness from your limbs before venturing to find Midoriya's bathroom. Just like the rest of his apartment, it is homely and comfortable, filled with Midoriya's belongings but still clean and tidy.

Your most pressing needs taken care of, and tamping down the curiosity that urges you to peek into Midoriya's bedroom, you pad back in to check on him. Then, happy that Midoriya is still sleeping soundly, one scarred hand now cushioning his cheek, you set to work.

You tidy the leftover mess from the morning's meal, and make a light lunch for yourself, setting aside a plate for whenever Midoriya is ready. It feels weird to be making yourself so at home in his apartment while he is sleeping, but there's a strange kind of comfort to it as well. It feels nice to be allowed this closeness, to be in his life so intimately. You prepare a few small snacks to leave in the fridge, hoping to provide for him even after you’ve left, and then clean up the kitchen until it is fresh and sparkling.

After a while of pottering about, you hear Midoriya stirring, and take some fresh tea over to the sofa.

"Good morning," you say, smiling when his groggy expression clears at the sound of your voice.

"Oh, you're still here! I wondered…" Midoriya sits up, blinking owlishly at you and clearing his throat. "How long was I asleep?"

"A good few hours - it's already two o'clock! It's good that you got some rest, though. How are you feeling?" You hand Midoriya his tea, and he smiles gratefully at you before flipping back his blanket to make room for you to sit next to him.

"Mm, not great. But not the worst, either, so I don't think I caught it too bad, luckily."

"I'm glad," you say warmly. "Some of the kids were down with the flu for a good week, so it's definitely good you avoided that!"

"Those poor kids," Midoriya's mouth pulls down sympathetically. "At least they were being well looked after! How is everyone doing now?"

You take a sip of your tea. "They're getting there, last night was pretty rough, but hopefully the worst will have passed by the time I'm back in."

"That's good!"

"Yeah, it is," you say somewhat absently. Something about what Midoriya had said before is bothering you - about being well looked after. "Hey, Midoriya?"

He glances at you over his teacup, open and curious. "Yes?"

"Be honest - if I hadn't come to see you, would you have told your friends or family that you were ill? Uraraka and Todoroki didn't know you felt bad, even though they saw you this morning."

He looks away from you, eyes skating around the room in a faux-casual expression. "Oh! Well it's not that bad, really, so I didn't want to worry them over nothing. I was just going to do my report and then have a nap, and I'm sure it would've passed by-"

"Midoriya."

You watch him steadily, and eventually he sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. "No, I wouldn't have told them."

"Given your guilty expression, I imagine you know what I'm going to say," you tell him, amused at the way he still won't meet your gaze.

He wilts, puffing his cheeks out in another sigh. "I know. I can't be strong all the time, and I need to look after myself and ask for help when I need it, right?"

Midoriya looks so much like a guilty puppy that you can't help the laugh that bubbles up, and he finally makes eye contact with you again, a surprised smile blooming across his face.

"Yep, I figured you probably would've been told that a million times before, considering your hero instinct is so damn strong," you say lightly, and he shakes his head a little in embarrassment.

"And hey, it's not my place to nag you, especially when I can be the same way when it comes to asking for help for myself." You hesitate, before deciding to continue. "It's… not always easy for me to lean on people. It's kind of an ongoing theme in my life."

You can practically see the curiosity running like a river through Midoriya's head. But even now, when anyone else would snatch at your small statement and immediately dig for more, Midoriya just sits quietly and watches you with endless, gentle patience.

"So," you continue, breezing past your small admission. "That's why I have a proposal for you - a deal, if you will."

Midoriya’s eyes spark with interest. "Okay, I'm listening!"

"Well, I promised to come to you or your friends if I am ever scared or in danger or anything, right?"

“Yes!” Midoriya nods enthusiastically, gaze fixed on you, tea sitting forgotten in his cupped hands.

"So, basically, I've promised to come to you heroes for any kind of hero-related help."

"I guess you could sum it up that way," Midoriya agrees, and then frowns. "But I'd like it if you came to me for other stuff, too, as a friend."

You wave a hand reassuringly. "Of course! When I promised you that, it was so you didn't have to worry, not to sum up our total friendship, right?" At Midoriya’s pleased nod, you continue on confidently - this idea is something you had been mulling over while he was asleep. “So, in return, I’m going to ask you to promise me something. I am, obviously, not a hero. And I get the impression that you don’t really have a lot of friends who aren’t heroes, making me one of your only civilian friends?”

At your querying glance, Midoriya smiles warmly. “My only civilian friend, actually.”

You quickly shove down the sense of smug possessiveness that statement inspires in you. “Right. So, you have to promise to come to me for civilian-related help. Anything that feels like it is too small or silly or normal to bother your hero friends with, or when you feel like you need to be grounded, or just need time away from hero stuff, you have to call me. I can help with the small stuff. Today is the perfect example - I’m not strong like a hero, I can’t help you like your other friends do, but getting you medicine and making you breakfast is exactly what I can do!”

“Oh,” Midoriya says, and when you look at him, you see that he is staring at you.

Panic roils through you instantly, flattening your confidence - you’d been expecting immediate agreement, just like how you had made your promise to him so easily. Had you miscalculated this whole thing? Was this a stupid idea? Probably most people didn’t make a transaction out of their friendships, so it’s no wonder Midoriya looks so taken aback.

You fumble for a way to take it all back gracefully. “But, you know, it was just an idea, you don’t actually have to-”

“I promise.”

“- agree to that, obviously you’re probably fine with all the friends you have, so- wait, what?”

Midoriya beams at you, the biggest smile you have seen on him all day. “I promise!” he says again, his tired face shining with earnestness. “I promise I’ll come to you for civilian help, just like you promised to come to me for hero help.”

You feel like your brain is short-circuiting, trying to catch up with your emotions flip-flopping from one extreme to the other, and so you don’t quite manage to say anything in response, just managing a shaky smile in response to Midoriya’s sunshine grin.

“Okay,” you manage in the end. “It’s a deal.”

You hold out a jokey hand, as if offering to shake over a business deal. Midoriya’s eyes flick to your hand, back up to your face, and then he leans in and gathers you into a hug, teacup held out at an awkward angle.

“It’s a deal,” he echoes happily, speaking into your ear.

Repressing a shiver from the closeness of his voice, you return the hug gently, mindful that Midoriya is still not well, before drawing back.

“Perfect!” you say, and then clap your hands together officiously. “In that case, my first act as your civilian-help friend is to make sure you’re well nourished! Wait here, I’ve made you lunch.”

The rest of the afternoon flows by easily. You make sure Midoriya is eating and drinking enough, and get him to take more medicine when it looks like he’s flagging again. Midoriya himself seems to be in much higher spirits since his nap, and you have high hopes that he will be back to his normal self after a decent night’s sleep. It’s not really that surprising, when you think about it - Midoriya is almost outrageously strong and healthy, so his body must put up a good fight against illness.

You’re deep in a conversation about the relative merits of sub vs dub when watching foreign films, when your phone rings. Giving Midoriya an apologetic look, you check the display to see Inaba’s name, and answer quickly.

“Hey Inaba, everything okay?”

“Are you still with Deku?”

You tense up immediately at the brisk tone of Inaba’s voice, his normal laidback air completely gone. “Yes, why?”

“If he’s really unwell, then forget it, but we could do with some help. Yuki’s quirk came in, and he’s having trouble handling it. We’ve got him isolated at the moment, but we can’t get near him without getting hurt.”

“Shit. Okay, hold on one second.” At Inaba’s agreeing murmur, you pull the phone away from your ear and look to Midoriya, who has clearly caught onto the tone of the conversation and is watching you keenly, eyes sharp. “It’s Inaba. Yuki’s quirk came in, apparently, and they’re having trouble with it, so they’re wondering if you can come with me to help. You’re not well, though, so-”

Midoriya puts his hand on your arm. “It’s okay, I’m not that bad. Let's find out what they need, and we’ll go from there.”

Too worried to argue, you put your phone on loudspeaker. “Inaba, I’m back, and Deku’s here on loudspeaker as well. What’s actually happening with Yuki?”

Inaba sighs. “Well, it turns out that he has an incredibly strong spike quirk. As in, he has spikes coming out of his skin, and shooting out all over the place. And I’m talking dangerous spikes, they could do some real damage. He’s terrified of hurting us, which of course means his quirk is going wild because he can’t calm down, and we can’t help calm him down because we can’t get close to him.”

“Shit,” you say again. “I’ll come back as soon as I can, but Mi-”

“Hi Inaba, it’s Deku here,” Midoriya interrupts calmly. “Please tell Yuki that the heroes are on the way, so he doesn’t need to worry about anything - he won’t be able to hurt us. We’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Great, thank you Deku. I’d better go, but we’ll see you soon.” Inaba hangs up swiftly.

You turn to your friend immediately, worried for everyone in this situation. "Are you sure?"

His smile is as reassuring as ever. "I'm sure," he says firmly. "Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to take care of the hero stuff, and you're going to keep an eye on me. We'll get Yuki sorted, and everyone will be fine, me included. Does that sound good?"

It is impossible to hold on to your worry in the face of Midoriya's optimistic determination, so you smile as you give him a grateful nod. "Sounds good!"

"Alright!" He pulls out his phone, already thumbing through his contacts. "Give me a minute to make a call, and we'll get going."

You quickly pack up your things, retrieving your bag from the kitchen, as Midoriya has a rapid phone conversation. He cradles the phone between his shoulder and ear, disappearing into his bedroom and reappearing shortly after, fully dressed and ready to go.

You keep a careful eye on him, but true to his word, Midoriya doesn't seem to be too ill - he looks under the weather still, but moves with purpose, chatting easily with you as you leave the apartment.

The moment you leave the building, there is a flash of bold red and sharp teeth, and you realise Kirishima is there. He’s dressed casually, rather than in his hero costume, and you have to restrain a grin of your own when you notice that he is wearing Crocs, of all things.

"Hey guys!" he calls, waving madly from in front of a parked car. "Jump in! Lucky I was already nearby!"

"Hi Kirishima!" Midoriya beams at his friend, the two of them exchanging a quick greeting hug, which includes several hearty backslaps that look like they'd knock the air out of anyone normal.

You greet Kirishima somewhat more shyly, having only met him once before, but the spiky-haired hero has a friendly ease about him that quickly dissipates any awkwardness. You quickly find yourself relaxing in the backseat of Kirishima's car, listening to the two heroes chat in the front as you weave through traffic.

"This is a really nice car, Kirishima! How long have you had it?"

Kirishima laughs freely, patting the steering wheel with affection. "Oh man, this is totally Katsuki's car! I'm not normally allowed to drive it, he says I'm too ‘fucking erratic’."

Midoriya stifles a laugh. "Does Kacchan know you have it right now?"

"Nope! But he’ll definitely notice when he finishes work later, so I'll probably be in the shit when I get home!" Kirishima says airily, seeming totally unconcerned by what he's saying. In fact, he almost seems amused at the prospect of being in trouble, and you wonder about his dynamic with Bakugou, considering everything you've heard about the explosive hero’s temper.

Kirishima, as it turns out, genuinely does drive somewhat erratically, mostly because he gets easily distracted by conversation, the radio, or anything else that hooks his energetic enthusiasm. Yet you never feel unsafe, and soon enough, he's pulling up outside the home.

You and Midoriya had briefed Kirishima on what the situation was, and the two heroes had discussed how to tackle things. Once you'd got over your initial surprise at seeing Kirishima, it didn't take long to understand why Midoriya had called him to help. Red Riot is hugely popular with the children, but even more than that, his quirk is the perfect matchup for a child with an out of control spike problem.

You unlock the front door, and poke your head inside cautiously, not wanting to proceed without knowing exactly where Yuki is.

"Inaba? It's me, where is everyone?"

Inaba immediately appears at the opposite end of the hall, looking relieved as he takes in the two Pro Heroes behind you.

“Hey,” he calls, motioning with a beckoning hand. “Come through, Yuki’s in the back garden. Everyone else is upstairs with the rest of the staff to keep him from getting more upset.”

Inaba vanishes again, presumably to return to Yuki. You start forward, but find yourself being gently manhandled out of the way. You stare at Midoriya as he literally lifts you to one side, smiling apologetically, so that Kirishima can squeeze past you and take the lead. You duck your head to hide the fierce flush that appears at being so effortlessly picked up, and try to forget the feel of Midoriya’s warm, strong hands on your waist.

“Sorry about that,” Midoriya says apologetically, as you both follow the beacon of Kirishima’s red hair down the hall. “It’s just normal procedure - defense always goes up front in an unknown quirk scenario!”

“He’s only four,” you say, somewhat taken aback by the ruthless efficiency the heroes are suddenly displaying. “Guys, I know his quirk might be dangerous, but you can’t treat this like it’s a villain situation or something, you’ll just scare him more. Yuki’s fierce on the outside, but he’s still so little.”

You feel Midoriya’s reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, we won’t scare him, I promise!” he says, gentle yet earnest. “We have lots of experience with scared children, you can trust us.”

Kirishima turns to grin at you over his shoulder, flashing a thumbs up. “Yeah, the little man is safe with us!”

Piling into the kitchen, you see Inaba hovering anxiously by the glass patio doors, which are currently closed. You follow his gaze to the garden beyond, and instantly feel like crying.

Yuki’s little figure is curled up in a tight ball, wedged between a tree trunk and the wall. You can see his shoulders heaving, and his sobs are audible even through the closed doors. There are spiny spike-tips poking out through his clothes, all over his body, and they look lethally sharp. More spikes litter the garden, scattered in the grass and impaling the trees and shrubs and various garden toys. More spikes clatter underfoot as you walk to the doors, and you realise they’re all over the kitchen, too. They vary in length and size, but every single one of them is deadly sharp.

Seeing that there is a barrier between you and Yuki, the two heroes let you move forward unshielded, while they put their heads together in a quick, murmured discussion.

You press your hands against the glass of the door. “Oh, Yuki,” you breathe, heart going out to him. It’s really an amazing quirk, to be this powerful even at his young age, but you can only imagine how terrified he must be right now.

Inaba spares you a quick glance, face tight. “I know. We were doing some baking when it suddenly went off. Luckily nobody was seriously hurt, but one of the spikes caught my hand and he absolutely freaked when he saw the blood. He bolted straight outside, and just screams any time we try to get close to him.”

You belatedly notice the kitchen towel wrapped around Inaba’s palm, and grimace sympathetically. “Is it bad? You should go take care of it, we can look after Yuki from here.”

Inaba shakes his head. “It’s not too bad, and I really don’t want him to think that he’s scared me off. Children are so easily traumatised, and I don’t want him to be afraid of his own quirk, that’ll make things so difficult for him in the long run.”

“That’s right,” Midoriya says, coming up behind you, eyes fixed on Yuki’s shivering form. “I think the best thing we can do is stay calm and unafraid, so that he can follow our lead.”

“That’s why I’m going out there, while you guys stay in here!” Kirishima chips in. “He literally can’t hurt me, so I’ll just go out and help the little guy calm down a bit.”

You and Inaba both agree with relief, stepping aside to let Kirishima slip through the door. Midoriya stands next to you to watch, his presence comforting even though he isn’t actively participating.

“Hey, little dude!” Kirishima calls, as if nothing of concern has happened. He stands on the patio, waving cheerfully but not yet making any moves to approach the boy. “Red Riot, reporting for duty!”

Yuki’s head whips up, his little face contorted with fear and determination. “N-no! Go away!”

“No can do, my man! I’m here to see you, after all, since I heard you got your cool new quirk. And Deku’s here, too.” Kirishima takes a small step forward as he talks. “Don’t you want to come in and say hi to him?”

Yuki clenches himself into an even tighter ball. “Go ‘way!” he cries, but you can hear the longing in his voice. “I’m gonna h-hurt you!”

“It’s okay, Yuki,” Kirishima says, and his voice is now low and gentle. “I’m Red Riot, remember? Nothing can hurt me!”

He lifts his arms, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt so Yuki can see the way his skin hardens. You hold your breath as Yuki stares at Kirishima for a long moment, and then the boy lets out a shuddering sob, and holds his chubby arms out desperately.

Kirishima wastes no time, covering the short distance in several large strides. You gasp as several spikes shoot out from Yuki’s skin, clearly reacting to the change in his emotions, but they just bounce harmlessly off Kirishima. The second he is in reach, Kirishima sweeps Yuki up into his arms without hesitation and hugs him close.

Yuki’s arms and legs wrap around the hero, clinging to him instantly, and like magic you see the spikes slowly vanishing from his figure, leaving his skin smooth and his clothes punctured by hundreds of small holes.

Beside you, Inaba sags with relief, and you hear Midoriya make a small noise of satisfaction. Kirishima gives you all a big thumbs up from behind Yuki’s back, before returning to murmuring gently to the boy, patting his back as he cries into his shoulder.

Things calm down smoothly from there. Kirishima spends a long time in the garden with Yuki, comforting and talking quietly with him, before the boy eventually feels safe enough to come into the kitchen. It takes even longer for Yuki to let anyone other than Red Riot touch him, at first shrinking back in alarm when Inaba reaches for him, and burrowing into Kirishima with frantic requests not to let him hurt anyone.

So you and Inaba spend a while in the kitchen with the two heroes and the frightened boy, just talking softly, sharing snacks, and watching as Yuki slowly starts to relax. Eventually, Yuki feels safe enough to greet Deku, chatting with his favourite hero from his throne on Kirishima’s lap. For a child who has just been terrified out of his wits, Yuki looks surprisingly smug to have the attention of two heroes focussed on him, preening and chattering away as he tells them all about how his quirk felt. Neither of the heroes seem to mind, focussing their considerable joint enthusiasm on the small boy, and you enjoy the sight of their lively conversation.

You’ve also been keeping an eye on Midoriya, and he occasionally glances back at you, clearly feeling the weight of your assessing gaze. But he still looks well enough, if a little tired, and the smiles he flashes you seem unrestrained, so you don’t worry too much.

“You know,” Inaba murmurs, stretching out his long legs as he leans against the kitchen counter next to you. “I never thought I’d be grateful to a villain, but honestly Cthulhu has brought us more good than bad by this point.”

You snort wryly. “You’re not wrong, who would’ve guessed that we’d have Pro Heroes at our beck and call?”

Inaba smirks, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “Well, I think we both know that it’s more like you have a particular Pro Hero at your beck and call, no?”

Elbowing him sharply in the side, you try for an innocent smile when Midoriya looks over at the sound of Inaba’s wheeze. Midoriya looks at you quizzically, but returns to the conversation when you wave him off.

“You’re the worst,” you say to Inaba through your teeth, and try to ignore his quiet sniggering.

Yuki eventually falls asleep, exhausted by his ordeal, but clearly feeling secure in Kirishima’s big, comfortable lap. Kirishima is ridiculously pleased by this, quietly squeeing over how adorable Yuki is all curled up in his arms, and immediately begins making arrangements with Inaba to come and visit Yuki tomorrow.

Midoriya leaves them talking at the table, and comes to stand next to you, smiling gently at Yuki’s sleeping face.

“I’m so glad Kirishima was free, that couldn’t have worked out better!” he says, and you nod in fervent agreement.

“It really was perfect!” You turn to Midoriya, purposely catching his eye. “Thank you so much for calling him and sorting it all out, it was a relief to have you here, even if Kirishima took the lead.”

Midoriya beams at you. “I’m just glad everyone is okay!” He glances over at Yuki, then back at you, his eyes gleaming with a sudden intensity. “Yuki’s quirk is amazing! Once he’s not so shocked, I’m sure he’ll get better control over it. I wonder whether he can control how big or small the spikes are, and where they appear on his body? And I wonder if he could learn to aim how far they shoot? Oh, I should get Kacchan to come and talk to Yuki, since he had to learn to control a dangerous quirk when he was young, too!”

You watch in amazement as Midoriya devolves into an excited mumble, feverishly analysing and pondering all the details of Yuki’s quirk. He doesn’t seem to need your input, so you just listen with interest, enjoying the thoughtful look on his face. You’ve seen Midoriya do this before, and what his mind comes up with never fails to be intriguing.

Eventually, he rambles himself to a stop, and then rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Ah, sorry, I talked your ear off, you should’ve told me to stop! I just find quirks so interesting, it’s kind of a hobby of mine.”

“Don’t apologise for talking about things you’re passionate about,” you tell him firmly. “Anyway, I like listening to you, I’ve never heard so much quirk analysis outside of a book before!”

Midoriya flushes with pleasure, but before you can continue the conversation, Kirishima bounds up to you both. You see Inaba slipping out of the kitchen behind him, Yuki still fast asleep in his arms.

“Guys! Did you see that? The little guy totally fell asleep on me, it was so manly!” Kirishima crows, casting his eyes up to the heavens as if praying for strength to handle the cuteness. “I’m gonna come back tomorrow as well, see if we can practice his quirk a little bit together, so he’ll be safer around everyone! I bet Katsuki will come if I ask him nicely, I think him and Yuki’d totally hit it off!”

Midoriya perks up. “You should definitely bring Kacchan, I was just saying that I think he’d have some good insights for Yuki about having a dangerous quirk!”

“Bro, that’s such a good point!” Kirishima pounds his fists together in his classic Red Riot pose, looking pumped for his visit already, and you can’t help but laugh along with his excitement. It’s genuinely touching how much the heroes all seem to enjoy visiting the kids, and you think it just shows how truly good-hearted they are.

Trusting that Yuki is now safely in bed, the three of you call a goodbye to the rest of the house. Kirishima insists on giving you a lift home, so you all pile into his stolen car once more.

Without the worry of Yuki hanging like a dark cloud, the conversation is lighter than it had been during the first car ride, and you quickly find your face aching with smiles. Both Midoriya and Kirishima have a bright positivity that can’t be quashed, and together they just bounce off each other like two suns sharing energy.

“Oh hey, I meant to ask you guys, you should totally come out for drinks with us tomorrow evening!” Kirishima says as he pulls up outside your apartment building. “We could meet you after our visit to Yuki, and visit this new place I saw on patrol the other day?”

Midoriya turns in his seat to give you a questioning smile. “That could be fun! What do you think?”

“As long as you’re properly better tomorrow, that sounds good to me,” you say, feeling a hammer of nerves in your chest at the prospect - this would be the first time you’ve really spent any time with Midoriya’s hero friends, outside of the home.

The bright look of anticipation Midoriya gives you helps to ease your shyness, though, as he hurries to reassure you that he will be okay. Kirishima happily exchanges phone numbers with you, so he can send you the proper details.

Thanking them again for their help, you say your goodbyes and head up to your apartment. You notice that Kirishima doesn’t actually drive off until they have seen you safely opening your door, and you shake your head fondly, wondering if all heroes are overprotective, or just the ones you know.

By the time you’re showered, fed, and dressed in pyjamas, you’re absolutely exhausted from the day’s activities, all heaped on top of a long and tiring night. Despite the circumstances - Midoriya being unwell, and Yuki’s quirk ordeal - you can’t help but feel it has been a good day, all in all. Excited and nervous at the prospect of drinks tomorrow, you snuggle down in bed for an early night.

As your thoughts drift off into sleep, you feel the memory of warm, tousled hair under your fingers, and smile contentedly.

Chapter Text

Midoriya [18:39pm]
Help, I need a civilian!!!

You [18:41pm]
I AM HERE! Actually, I’m still on the train, but I’ll be there really soon! What’s up?

Midoriya [18:52pm]
So I offered an elderly lady my seat on the train, and she took it, but now she’s glaring at me?? What did I do?? :(

You [18:53pm]
Hmmm… are you sure she’s glaring at you, or does she just have a case of RBF?

Midoriya [18:54pm]
Oh no, what’s RBF? Is it medical??

You [18:54pm]
Hahaha, oh my sweet summer child! No, it means Resting Bitch Face - you know, when people just have their normal relaxed face on, but it looks like they’re bitchy or whatever!

Midoriya [18:55pm]
OH well in that case Kacchan definitely has RBF! :)

Midoriya [18:55pm]
… probably best you don’t tell him that though!

You [18:56pm]
Duly noted! You should try smiling at the lady, see what happens

Midoriya [19:02pm]
Ahhhh I smiled at her as I was getting off, and she totally smiled back!! Case solved, thanks, Civilian Hero!

You grin at your phone, then lean down to speak right next to the ear of the figure sitting on the bench in front of you, currently completely unaware of your presence.

“I thought I was the Cake Hero?”

“AH!” Midoriya jumps so hard that his butt leaves the bench completely, and he whirls to face you. You’re delighted to see he's so startled that a flicker of green lightning runs up his body before his wild eyes fix on you and he slumps with relief. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!” he says, clutching his chest with a groan.

You stifle a cackle in your hand, not wanting to draw attention from the crowds of people in the station. “I’m sorry, it was too good a chance to resist!”

“I’m not sure you’re any kind of hero, after that,” Midoriya says with a mock scowl, but it instantly melts away into a wide smile as he stands and pulls you into a warm greeting hug. “And neither am I, considering you snuck up on me so easily! Now, unless you have any other people to scare, let's get out of these crowds and find the bar. I invited Shouto since I saw him today, so he’ll meet us there too!”

You sneak glances at Midoriya as you leave the station, trying to admire the image of him in the evening sunlight without being caught. He looks really good tonight, in well-fitting dark jeans, a button up shirt, and a beautifully soft-looking cardigan; he looks smart and adorably cosy all at once, and you silently pray for the strength to keep your face from showing how much you like it.

Ignoring your mild panic at how charming Midoriya looks, and the nerves you’re still holding onto about spending social time with his friends (and particularly meeting Bakugou), you feel a glow of happiness kindle in your chest as you walk and talk.

Things between you and Midoriya have been feeling so light recently, it really feels like the problems you’d caused are miles behind you. Aside from your embarrassing crush, Midoriya is beginning to feel like the one person in your life that you are ultimately comfortable with. Being with him is just easy, and so much fun. Seeing the generous smiles he shares with you, eyes bright as you laugh together, you hold a secret hope that, despite his plethora of other friends, Midoriya feels a little like you do, too.

The bar turns out to be a beautifully presented blend of modern and traditional, and is already bustling with people. You spot Todoroki waiting near the door, and Midoriya rises onto the balls of his feet, waving enthusiastically as you both approach.

“Shouto! You didn’t have to wait outside, Kacchan and Kirishima are already here!”

“Good evening,” Todoroki says politely to you, giving you a small smile when you return the greeting, before raising an eyebrow at his friend. “I didn’t know they had arrived, Izuku, since you didn't tell me. You barely told me where to come at all before you dashed off earlier.”

“I needed to shower and get changed!” Midoriya protests, though he looks a bit sheepish. “Anyway, we’re here now, so let’s head in.”

Both you and Todoroki are happy to follow Midoriya’s lead as he strides inside. The host, a friendly man with an iridescent scales quirk, immediately recognises the two Pro Heroes, and ushers you through to a private room without hesitation.

As the door slides open, the first thing you see is the now-familiar shock of Kirishima’s red hair. He’s sitting comfortably at the low, traditional Japanese-style table, cross-legged and grinning at everyone as the host ushers you in.

At the head of the table, and currently swigging at a beer, is Bakugou. The explosive hero tracks his piercing gaze across you all one by one, sneering dramatically at Midoriya, who just beams back at him, and giving you a tiny jerk of his chin, which you take to be a nod of acknowledgement. You’re still nervous, but hope that this is a good sign.

Then, his gaze lands on Todoroki, and he puts his beer down with a slam. “Hah? Why the fuck are you here, Icyhot? You crashing the party?”

“Hello to you too, Bakugou,” Todoroki says calmly. “Hello Kirishima, it’s been a while.”

“I invited Shouto!” Midoriya interjects, turning to smile at Todoroki. “The more the merrier, right?”

Kirishima raises his glass cheerfully. “For sure, dude! It’s so good to see you, Todoroki! Come on in guys, we ordered drinks to share already.”

Bakugou snorts, and rolls his eyes derisively, but the action seems too emphatic to be heartfelt, and you suspect that this is a kind of banter between Todoroki and Bakugou.

Todoroki slips into the room, taking the seat next to Kirishima, which leaves the other side of the table for you and Midoriya. You end up sitting with Bakugou on your right, and Midoriya on your left.

“Um, hi,” you say to Bakugou, and introduce yourself by name as he regards you with the lazily dangerous air of a big cat. “It’s nice to meet you!”

“Bakugou Katsuki, likewise,” he says gruffly in reply, then narrows his eyes at Midoriya. “You gonna pour everyone a drink or not, Deku?!”

Midoriya, who had been watching your exchange with an anticipatory smile, straightens up at his barked instruction. “Oh, sorry Kacchan! Coming right up!”

The ice thus broken, everyone relaxes into general chatter, catching up about their days as Midoriya helpfully pours out drinks. The staff serve some small dishes to share, all of which are absolutely delicious, and you find yourself slowly relaxing into the evening. A couple of rounds of drinks go by, and you’re starting to feel a liquid warmth in your stomach when, suddenly, Bakugou leans in to stare at Midoriya.

“Oi, Deku! Don’t forget you promised me a rematch,” he says, baring his teeth in a fierce grin. “I’m gonna drink you under the table this time!”

Midoriya laughs. “You can try, Kacchan!” he says lightly, but his eyes spark with a sudden intensity.

“Hell yeah, drinking competition! I’m in!” Kirishima pumps his fists enthusiastically.

“Don’t think you’re escaping, Icyhot, I’m gonna take you down!” Bakugou continues, ignoring the way Todoroki rolls his eyes, and then his hot gaze slides to you. “You too, newbie.” There’s a silent challenge in his eyes, as if he’s measuring your spirit.

Midoriya stiffens. “Kacchan, go easy!” he says, voice surprisingly serious. He touches your elbow reassuringly. “Ignore him, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Thanks, Midoriya.” You hold Bakugou’s eye as steadily as you dare, and see his eyebrow twitch in response. “But I’m in,” you say firmly, and then throw a grin around the table as the fire of competitiveness catches hold of you. “You heroes better prepare yourselves. While you were all being coddled at your fancy UA, I was impressing a bunch of down and outs with my underage drinking skills.”

“Now that’s fighting talk!” Kirishima whoops, and Bakugou flashes his teeth at you in what you think is an approving smile. Todoroki, though, is smirking at Midoriya, and when you turn to your friend, you find he is staring at you with an odd expression.

Before you have a chance to question him, Bakugou is laying out the rules, and calling the staff to bring stronger drinks. You don’t often drink a lot, but you feel safe enough around Midoriya and his friends, and can’t deny that a competition seems fun. The game is on.

~

The alcohol burns in your throat, and your stomach hurts with laughter, but you refuse to give up. One by one the heroes fall, until you and Bakugou are the last ones standing.

“What. The. Fuck.” Bakugou growls, red eyes glaring into yours. “How the fuck are you still standing?!” He tilts slightly in his seat as he swings a blind hand out to Kirishima. “Ei, give me another!”

“Hell no, we’ve all lost this one, babe,” Kirishima laughs, catching Bakugou’s hand and planting a clumsy kiss on his wrist.

Todoroki, his hair spilling out of the bun it had started the night in, gives a sage nod. “Yes, Cake undoubtedly won that.” He frowns thoughtfully. “Hm, cake and alcohol... Is boozy cake a kind of food? I think I’m hungry.”

“Fucking fine!” Bakugou, somewhat mollified by Kirishima’s attention, shoots you a begrudging look of respect. “You win, I guess,” he mutters.

“Thank you, thank you, all in a day’s work,” you murmur, taking a seated bow that makes Kirishima snort with laughter.

“I can’t believe you beat even Kacchan!” Midoriya bumps his shoulder into yours, and you exchange a grin and a high five with him.

You sit back in your seat, feeling loose and pleasantly woozy as the alcohol runs warm through your veins. Looking around the table, you can see by the rumpled smiles, flushed cheeks, and heavy eyes that everyone is feeling about as good and buzzed as you are. You may have won the drinking game, but it had definitely been a close thing.

“Why the hell is Halfie calling you Cake, anyway?” Bakugou says from under the arm Kirishima has slung about his shoulders.

“Oh! It’s a nickname Uraraka and Shouto came up with after an incident with a small-time villain, Kacchan!” Midoriya says eagerly, leaning into your side conspiratorially. Pleasant heat radiates from the point of contact, and you let yourself lean into him in return.

Todoroki puts an informative finger in the air, wavering only slightly. “Yes, Cake defeated a villain using just a cake and the pavement. It was very impressive.”

“What?! That’s so manly, none of us have ever taken a villain down with a cake before!”

“To be fair,” you say modestly, trying not to preen under Kirishima’s enthusiastic approval. “It was an All Might cake.”

Todoroki nods as if this statement makes perfect sense to him. Midoriya sighs wistfully, and you pat his hand comfortingly. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you a new cake at some point.”

Midoriya looks ridiculously pleased at this, eyes shining, and you give him a wonky grin.

“Don’t use the next one as a weapon, though,” Todoroki says seriously. “You almost got a concussion the last time, plus, Izuku might actually cry if another one of your cakes gets ruined.”

Bakugou, who has been listening to this exchange with a glazed look on his face, suddenly thumps his fist down on the table. “You’re telling me that after all that, the best fucking name you idiots could come up with was Cake?!”

Midoriya shakes with laughter, slumped against your shoulder as he struggles to get his words out. “A-As if you could do any better, your nicknames for people are ridiculous, Kacchan.”

“My names are the fucking bees knees!” Bakugou roars, and you jump as small explosions suddenly crackle to life in his palms, vivid and shocking.

Kirishima grabs his hands and slaps them together. “Babe!”

“No quirks while drinking,” Todoroki murmurs, sounding bored.

“Kacchan, be careful! That was way too close!” Midoriya wraps an arm around you and tucks you into his side protectively. He squeezes you gently. “You okay?”

You laugh it off, not bothered by this display at all except for the initial surprise. “Yeah, of course, I’m fine!”

Midoriya smiles at you, but he doesn’t take his arm away. You’re so close that you can see his freckles despite the dim lighting and the flush across his cheeks. Warmed inside and out by the contact, and feeling uninhibited from the drinking, you snuggle in close.

“Tch, ‘course you are. Anyone bold enough to take a villain down with a fucking cake wouldn’t be scared by that, stupid Deku.”

“But anyway, I want to know more about the nicknames,” you say, still distracted by the previous conversation.

Kirishima perks up, Bakugou’s hands still tucked between his own. “Katsuki hardly ever calls people by name. I think I went by Shitty Hair for at least the first five years we knew each other.” He grins affectionately at Bakugou, who scoffs and looks away.

“I have a theory that nicknames are a sign of Bakugou’s affection after a while,” Todoroki says, blandly ignoring the venomous glare this earns him. “I’m pretty sure he knows my name by now, but I’m still Icyhot most of the time.”

“Icyhot is a fucking decent name! At least it’s not all sickeningly cutesy and basic like Cake.”

“To be honest, Cake is the first nickname I’ve ever been given, so that also makes it my favourite!” you contribute, and all four of the heroes stare at you.

“Dude,” Kirishima stage whispers, letting go of Bakugou so he can clutch at his own heart. “I think I’m gonna cry. Babe, hold me.”

“Suck it up, Ei.”

Midoriya tightens his hold around you, and your heart thumps as you feel him stroke your waist. “If you’d have been at school with us, you’d have been given loads of nicknames, I promise!” he says passionately, and Todoroki nods.

Kirishima drops his heartbroken act and claps his hands together thunderously. “Alright, Cake’s been honest with us, so it’s time for us to be manly and spill, what’s everyone’s favourite nickname they’ve been called?”

Todoroki thinks about this for a long moment, frowning and steepling his fingers, then he brightens as if struck by a thought. “Shouto,” he says, looking pleased.

“THAT’S YOUR ACTUAL FUCKING NAME!” Bakugou bellows, slamming both his hands down as everyone collapses into helpless laughter.

“Yes, but it’s also my hero name.” Todoroki shrugs, and looks at Kirishima. “How about you?”

Kirishima flashes a sharp smile at Bakugou. “I like Shitty Hair, but purely because it was from Katsuki, not because it’s actually a good name!”

To your amazement, Bakugou blushes furiously, and you cover your mouth with a squeak when he leans over and kisses Kirishima tenderly.

“Ahh, they’re so cute, right?” Midoriya whispers to you, clearly having noticed your reaction. His eyes glisten fondly. “Kacchan’s so soft when it comes to Kirishima.”

“Bakugou, if you’ve finished kissing Kirishima, it’s your turn to answer,” Todoroki says, and though he initially appears unaffected by the display of affection, you notice a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Bakugou, recovering from his blush, smiles viciously. “Lord Explosion Murder.”

“Kacchan, you gave yourself that name!” Midoriya says with a protesting laugh. Kirishima’s busy sniggering into his glass, and Todoroki just rolls his eyes.

“If Icyhot can give his actual fucking name as his answer, then that can be mine!”

Todoroki shrugs. “That’s fair.”

“Good,” Bakugou says, then turns to Midoriya with a feral light in his eyes. “So what’s your favourite name that you’ve been called, Deku?”

You’ve heard the story of how Midoriya had taken his childhood insult and turned it into his hero name, and Bakugou clearly expects that to be his answer. But to your surprise, Midoriya glances down at you.

“Hmm,” he says, a faint smile hovering about his face. “I think it has to be ‘sweetheart’.”

Halfway through sipping your drink, you immediately inhale it to the back of your throat, choking straight into a coughing fit. Midoriya calmly pats you on the back, which only increases your embarrassment. Just as you’re catching your breath, you look up to see Todoroki give you a small smile and a wink, and immediately understand that he knows.

“Ahh,” you manage between coughs, and then drop your head onto the table and hide under your arms, so you can at least die in some semblance of privacy.

You hear Kirishima whistle, and there’s a low chuckle from Todoroki’s direction.

“What the fuck Deku, you dog!” Bakugou sounds as astonished as you feel. “Oi, fucking Cake or whatever, have a drink before you die.”

You feel a nudge at your elbow and peek up to see Bakugou thrusting a glass of water at you. Gathering what composure you can, you take it with a grateful smile, and let the cool liquid soothe your throat. The hot embarrassment is ebbing away, and now you’re left wondering; was Midoriya just teasing you, or did he really like that you called him sweetheart?

“Another round for everyone!” Kirishima calls, and there’s a general rustle of agreement.

“I’m going to head to the bathroom real quick,” you murmur, taking advantage of the pause, and Midoriya nods and smiles as you stand.

The corridor is slightly cooler than the room, and the breath of fresh air that’s wafting through feels delightful on your hot face. You hum quietly to yourself as you find the bathroom, head spinning and feet unsteady, but perfectly content to be that way. You’ve always enjoyed the way tipsiness hits differently when you’re suddenly alone after being around people for a while, and you just feel pleasantly buzzed, not out of control.

The bathrooms, just like the rest of the place, are beautifully presented, with smooth, expensive tiling and soft lighting. You spend longer than necessary enjoying the complimentary hand lotion, but it just smells so good.

On your way back to the private room, you frown when you see a small group of people blocking the corridor, clearly having exited the room next to your group’s. There’s something about their body language that immediately puts you on edge, and you pause, one hand on the wall to steady yourself as you check out the situation.

There’s a man with his back to the wall, and three people slowly crowding in on him, forcing him to shrink back. At first, you can’t quite hear what they’re saying, so you creep forward a little until you catch the end of a sentence.

“- think you can do something about it, huh? You fucking quirkless worm, you’re so pathetic it makes me sick.”

A tall woman bends in with a nasty sneer. “People like you should be chucked out of the gene pool,” she spits. “It’s just natural selection.”

Fury rises up in you as you realise what’s happening, and suddenly you don’t need the support of the wall any more. Your hands curl into fists, shaking with a sudden rush of adrenaline. You’ve heard quirk prejudice too many times before to let it slide, and you’re stepping forward before you realise it.

“Hey. I think you should leave.” Your voice surprises you with how cold it is, and you hope they don’t mistake the tremble of rage for fear.

Their heads turn to you as one, even the frightened victim staring at you. You stand your ground, ignoring the instincts in your head that are telling you to turn and run.

“Who the hell are you? Fuck off and mind your business, nosy asshole!”

“I’m nobody,” you say, deadly calm. “But I think you should leave that person alone, and get out of here. We don’t need bigots like you in decent society.”

The woman laughs shrilly, and you notice belatedly that her teeth are long, and sharp, like fangs - her quirk, you imagine. “And what are you going to do about it, hm?”

“Me?” You point to your chest, then shake your head. “Oh, nothing. My friends, though, are another matter entirely.”

“Fucking classic," she sneers. "They always try to threaten you with someone else. Well guess what, your shitty friends aren’t here right now, are they?”

They obviously don’t realise that they’re practically standing in front of the room that houses your group. And they definitely don’t know who your friends are. Not taking your eyes off them, you take a deep breath.

“Midoriya!” you call, not quite a shout, but sharp enough to cut across the corridor clearly. You think quickly of what to say that will alert him without disturbing the rest of the bar. "I'm cashing in on our deal, right now!"

Instantly, like a miracle, the door slides open with a rattle, and Midoriya is there, wreathed in the lightning of his quirk like a glorious, green avenging angel.

"Oh shit, is that fucking Deku?!" you hear one of the guys mutter under his breath.

Midoriya meets your gaze through the crowd of the group, frowning with concern. "What's going on? Are you okay?" He ignores everyone else completely, and doesn't even look away from you until you nod and give him a tight smile.

"I'm fine," you say, dizzied with the relief and pleasure of knowing just how safe you are now. "I was just asking these guys to leave."

"You don't have any fucking right-"

You ignore the venomous voice, focussing on your friend's face. "They were threatening this man based on his quirkless status."

Midoriya’s expression goes instantly hard, his eyes glittering with menace. "Were they now?" he asks softly, and you almost shiver at the sharp danger in his voice.

"We gotta go," one of the men says - the same one who had recognised Midoriya, you think.

"And," you add, feeling petty and vengeful. "They called me an asshole."

Midoriya’s eyes burn, but before he can say anything, a new voice speaks from behind him.

"They did fucking what?" Bakugou's growl is low and throaty as he appears at Midoriya's shoulder. You see Kirishima and Todoroki gathering behind them, effortlessly intimidating as they stare the group down. Silent danger and power rolls off the heroes in waves, so intense it feels like the air should be wobbling like a heat wave.

Heart rising into your throat with glee, you swallow back a giddy laugh, and turn to look the fanged woman dead in the eye.

"These," you say pleasantly. "Are my friends."

Chapter Text

Satisfaction buzzes through your limbs as you watch the fanged woman's face drain of all colour as she stares at your friends. Midoriya's eyes are steely and sharp, and you see Bakugou's lips curl in a snarl. The air is thick with menace, but you don't feel scared, just filled with a tumbling mixture of glee, relief, and still-hot fury. Nobody speaks.

A single second stretches out into two, three, poised like the breathless moment before a natural disaster. One of the bullies takes a blundering step backwards, and then all of a sudden they're scrambling, pushing, falling over themselves and each other as they make a hasty escape.

As easy as that, the bullies disappear, almost as quickly as your friends had appeared. After a babbled thank you, so does the poor man they were threatening, bowing repeatedly in his gratitude as he leaves.

As soon as the corridor is clear, Midoriya is in front of you, patting your shoulders and looking into your face worriedly, as if searching for hidden wounds.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks, running his hands lightly up and down your arms.

"I'm fine," you say, letting out a long breath as the adrenaline starts to drain. "Ugh, I'm just angry."

"Fucking too right," Bakugou grumbles from the doorway. "Oi, Deku, stop fussing in the corridor and get back in here."

He withdraws into the room, Kirishima and Todoroki already back inside. After another moment of peering anxiously at you, Midoriya takes your hand gently to pull you in as well.

"What the hell, those guys were dickbags!" Kirishima exclaims, the second you're settled in your seat.

Todoroki is frowning in agreement, but when Kirishima holds a glass out to him, he helpfully produces several neat shards of ice that clink into the dark liquid at the bottom. Kirishima pushes the glass over to you with a sympathetic smile.

"Here, this’ll take the edge off the excitement, yeah?"

You sniff the drink, which is apparently whiskey, and then toss it back without thinking too hard. The burn in your throat is pleasantly grounding. Bakugou grunts appreciatively, and Midoriya wordlessly settles his arm around you again. You think he’s probably feeling overprotective, but you aren’t about to complain; if you’re being honest with yourself, you’re just shamelessly happy to take whatever affection he’ll give you, and enjoy it while it lasts.

Midoriya rubs your arm gently. “Better?”

“Yes, thanks. Though I’ll be even better if I never have to see anyone like them again.”

Todoroki regards you with faint amusement. "Do you enjoy making a habit of meeting small-time criminals and bullies, or is it really just coincidence?”

The laugh that leaves you feels refreshing, like a return to the previous mood of the evening. “You tell me, considering every time I come across one it is in the presence of a hero!”

Midoriya straightens up in the middle of one-handedly pouring fresh drinks for everyone. “Ah! You suspect a conspiracy! That’s Shouto’s specialty.”

Todoroki narrows his eyes at his friend in a way which suggests an inside joke you’re not privy to, and you feel silent laughter quivering through Midoriya.

You crunch on one of the ice shards from your glass. “Well, I’m not saying that heroes create the opportunity to rescue people, but…” You trail off, lifting your eyebrows suggestively.

Kirishima gasps dramatically, and slaps his hands over Bakugou’s ears. “Katsuki, don’t listen! Cake’s besmirching the title of hero!”

Bakugou shakes him off, though you notice he keeps hold of one hand in his. “Besmirching? Tch, why the fuck do you only start using long words when you’ve been drinking, huh?”

“Aw, if I used them while I was sober then I’d ruin my carefully crafted himbo image, and you might not love me anymore,” Kirishima says with a pout that has you sniggering helplessly, and he shoots you a mischievous grin.

“Idiot,” Bakugou says fondly, cuffing him round the back of the head.

“Anyway,” you say, trying to catch everyone’s eye. “Even if it was a conspiracy, it felt pretty damn good to have four heroes at my back to intimidate them, so thank you.” You give Midoriya a special smile, and lean against him as much as you dare. “And thanks for understanding my code so easily. I didn’t want to cause a public ruckus by shouting about thugs.”

Midoriya returns your smile, pink across his cheeks. “Oh, that’s okay, you did really well, I knew exactly what you meant!” His eyes harden for an instant. “You just keep telling us anytime you need heroes at your back.”

“Fuck yeah,” Bakugou says with a savage grin. “Here’s to intimidating fucking bullies!”

“Cheers to that.” Shouto’s murmur is coldly satisfied.

The five of you clink glasses and drink, and you sigh with pleasure as all the remaining tension bleeds out of you. As nervous as you had been about this evening, you realise that you’d had nothing to worry about - you’ve known all along how inherently, and blindingly, good Midoriya and his friends are, and it just becomes more clear every time you meet them.

One toast leads to several more, declaiming against villains and celebrating victories. Todoroki even makes a toast to the many delights of cold soba, which earns him jeers from Bakugou and laughter from the rest of you, but everyone follows through with the toast nonetheless.

The room becomes warm with company and inebriation, and soon your face is permanently burning with a pleasant flush. You feel pleasantly light, and the room spins gently when you move your head. Kirishima’s spikes are starting to wilt, and Todoroki spends a long time clumsily trying to push his hair out of his face before you eventually take pity on him and help braid it back. It’s not your best work, admittedly, but the way the silky red and white strands blend through the braid is very striking.

“Wah, so pretty, Shouto!” Midoriya gasps, leaning across the table unsteadily to admire your handiwork. He beams at you. “You did such a great job!”

“Bro, you look so manly!”

Todoroki places a hand down on the table and lets a smooth sheen of ice form on the surface, ignoring Kirishima’s protests about drunken quirk usage. He squints down at his icy reflection with great focus, and then looks up with a soft smile.

“Yes, I am very pretty now,” he says smugly, and Midoriya crows with delight.

Bakugou narrows his eyes at Todoroki, though you think it’s to help his eyes focus, rather than an actual scowl. “Not bad, Icyhot! Fuckin’ Cake’s got some hidden talent or something.”

Halfway through walking back around the table, you try to shoot Bakugou a thumbs up at this compliment, and stumble over your own feet.

“Whoops!” Midoriya reaches up to steady you with a firm grip, helping you back into your seat.

“Oh, well, you pick up some tricks here and there when you have to help hundreds of children do their hair over the years,” you say, waving a hand airily.

Midoriya sits up suddenly, as if struck by a sudden thought. “Kirishima, didn’t you take Kacchan to the home to see Yuki today? How did it go?”

Bakugou groans, slumping forward to rest his forehead on the table, but Kirishima bounces in his seat, positively radiating enthusiasm at this topic.

“Aw man, it was so great! The little dude was so cute and strong, and he made Katsuki colour with him and they had this massive argument about the best colours, and Katsuki loved it, didn’t you, babe?” He punches Bakugou lightly in the shoulder.

“Eijirou,” Bakugou mumbles into the table. “You gotta get me one.”

“Get one what?” Todoroki asks, looking into his phone camera for a stoic selfie.

Bakugou says nothing, just tilts his head to look at Kirishima, who stares blankly for a second, and then gasps loudly, bursting up to his feet.

“A KID?!” he roars. “Katsuki, you want me to get you a kid?! Hell yeah!!”

This time Midoriya gasps, both hands flying to his mouth as he stares at his friends with wide, shining eyes. “Kacchan, you wanna be a dad?” he whispers.

Todoroki looks up from typing on his phone with a genuine smile. “Congratulations.”

“Katsuki, you’re so cute!” Kirishima drops to his knees, and proceeds to plaster Bakugou with affection, completely unbothered by Bakugou’s refusal to lift his head off the table. “I’m gonna get you one, I swear!”

Grinning, you turn to share your glee with Midoriya, and to your delight, you see that his eyes are filled with tears.

“You okay?” you ask him, and laugh at the bewildered nod and wobbly smile he gives you, clearly overwhelmed by his own emotions. Taking one of his hands in both of yours, you let your thumbs stroke across the back of his palm soothingly.

You’ve always liked Midoriya’s hands. They’re strong and deliciously warm, calloused from his hero work, but always gentle. Completely distracted by this train of thought, your fingers trace along the lines of his scars, admiring the bold strokes of texture on his skin. Midoriya has gone completely still, his hand entirely given up to you, letting you explore as you will.

“I like your scars,” you say, absentminded, and hear his breath catch softly.

When you look up, your own breath stills in your chest. Midoriya is gazing at you, lips parted, as if nothing else in the room exists. You wonder faintly if there are enough names in the world for all the luminous shades of green in his eyes. He squeezes your fingers, and you can feel the pulse in his wrist under your fingertips, delicate and yet so vividly alive. Midoriya smiles at you, tender and full of wonder, and you try to remember how to breathe.

He takes a quiet breath. “I-”

The door rattles open. “Please excuse the interruption, but the bar will be closing shortly,” a polite voice says, and then they slide the door shut again.

You let go of Midoriya’s hand quickly and pick up your glass, heart hammering. Under the cover of taking a drink, you glance around the table, relieved to see that nobody is paying attention. Todoroki is engrossed in typing something on his phone, and Kirishima is still lavishing affection over Bakugou’s hunched form.

Sneaking a sideways look at Midoriya, you see that his face is deeply flushed, far beyond what the drinks had caused.

He clears his throat, and his friends finally look up. “I, uh, guess we’d better get going!”

Downing the last dregs of your drinks, you gather up your coats and call for the bill. Todoroki insists on paying, despite your best protests, and eventually Midoriya lays a hand on your arm.

“Just let him do it,” he advises, with a twinkle in his smile. “Endeavour’s pockets are deep enough, trust me!”

Todoroki nods, but his smile seems too smug to be purely about winning the argument, and you think that there is another story there. You make a mental note to ask Midoriya about it when you can talk more freely.

The night air outside the bar is cool and delicious, and you inhale deeply. Kirishima, Bakugou and Todoroki all decide to share a taxi home, as their apartments are fairly close together, and after a flurry of hugs, waves, and somewhat reluctant goodbyes, you and Midoriya are left standing on the pavement alone.

“Shall we walk to the station?” Midoriya asks, cocking his head with a smile, and you nod easily.

You walk slowly, letting your feet drift as they will, and occasionally catching yourself staring up at the few stars in the sky. Pleasantly light-headed still, your shoulder bumps against Midoriya as you walk. After a minute, the temptation grows too strong, and you bravely loop a hand through the crook of his elbow.

Midoriya looks at you, startled, and then relaxes into a warm smile. His arm tightens, tucking your hand in securely, and you sigh with contentment. As you’d thought, his cardigan is fluffy and soft, and you can feel the outline of his muscle underneath.

As much as you wish the walk could last forever, the station quickly approaches, its bright and impersonal lighting making you blink back into reality. You turn to him as you slowly approach the point where you will part ways.

“Tonight was so much fun! Thanks for sharing your friends with me, Midoriya.”

“Call me Izuku,” he blurts suddenly. “Um. All my closest friends call me Izuku! Except Uraraka, and I guess Kacchan, but they call me Deku instead.” He bites his lip when he realises you’re staring at him in speechless surprise. “Oh, but only if you’re comfortable with that! Forget it if you don’t want to, I don’t mind really, I-”

“Izuku,” you say, finally managing to find your voice. He instantly blushes bright red, but looks immensely pleased. “I’d like it if you call me by my given name too.”

“Okay,” he says, through a somewhat embarrassed smile.

“Okay,” you repeat with your own smile. “I’ll talk to you soon?”

Izuku nods vigorously, and you both step into a tight hug. You inhale the comforting smell of him, masculine and fresh and sweet, wanting to make the most of everything this evening can offer you.

Just as you’re about to pull back, you feel him drop a gentle kiss on your head. Then he mumbles a hasty goodbye, slides out of your arms, and is gone before you have a chance to react.

You stand there for a long moment, blinking stupidly, and then bury your face in your hands. It takes another minute before you’re composed enough to find your train. Sitting dazedly in a quiet carriage, you realise belatedly that your cheeks ache from smiling, but you can’t quite manage to stop.

Chapter Text

Coasting on the delight of your memories, the next few days following the infamous night of drinking slip by without trouble or complaint.

The bout of illness running through the home eventually ends, and work falls back into an everyday calm, except for the excitement of regular visits from both Red Riot and Dynamight, always under the guise of making sure Yuki is safe with his quirk. Neither of them have mentioned what Bakugou said that night, but a few times you’ve caught Kirishima hovering near you, mouth open as if on the verge of spilling something momentous, before he snaps it closed again with a grin, rubbing the back of his neck. You vow to let them take their time, and hide your secret smile at knowing that something wonderful might come of the heroes’ relationship with the home.

Izuku messages you every day, and each time you see his updated contact name on your phone, you feel a thrill in the pit of your stomach. When both of your schedules allow, he calls you to chat properly, and the sound of his voice over the phone is both comforting and electrifying.

Today has been different compared to the rest of the week, though. Aside from an early good morning message, Izuku has been notably quiet - but you know exactly why that is. During the morning commuter hours, the news had been filled with reports of a large-scale and horrifying incident - a small group of powerful villains rampaging across several blocks of the city, mercilessly crushing buildings and people alike in their wake.

You saw signs of every hero you know flash across the reports; Uravity, pale-faced and determined, floating stretches of smashed highway as Ingenium dashed in to help pull civilians to safety. Red Riot, stalwartly taking hit after hit, acting as shield to the sword of Bakugou’s explosions in motion, both of them baring their teeth in bold defiance. Todoroki’s ice shored up swathes of office buildings as brilliant bursts of his fire held the villains at bay.

There were countless more heroes on scene, drawn from all across the city, but the only one you had eyes for was Deku.

He seemed to be everywhere simultaneously, bright and bold and passionate. You watched him, wreathed in that crackling lightning, sheer power and energy glowing under his skin as he fought, breathtakingly fast. Tendrils of dark power occasionally burst from him, restraining villains or pulling innocent people to safety.

It was almost painful, seeing him in such danger, and yet you never had a doubt that he would win. Sure enough, around lunchtime, the heroes had succeeded in defeating the villains, and the disaster recovery work had begun.

You lie in bed now, room dark except for the glow of your phone screen, and scroll through news feeds. It looks like the public emergency services have finally begun to take over, and the heroes are slowly being dismissed. Knowing you have to stop reading and sleep at some point, you tear yourself away and open your chat with Izuku.

You [11:13pm]
I just wanted to say hi, and that I hope you’re okay after today. I saw you on the news, you were amazing! Let me know if you need anything, okay? Goodnight!

Slipping your phone under your pillow with a sigh, you pull the covers up to your chin. It feels strange, to think that you’re safe and cosy in bed when all your new hero friends could still be out there right now. And yet, isn’t that going to be part of your life now, the worry and the concern for their safety? Closing your eyes, you fix on the thought of Izuku’s strength, and let that calm you. He is a hero with determination and power beyond what you can imagine - he’s exactly where he wants to be.

When you jolt out of your sleep into the pitch dark of the night, it takes you a moment to figure out what has woken you. Fumbling for your phone as it buzzes insistently, you squint at the screen and just about see past the glaring brightness to make out Izuku’s name.

You stab at the answer button hurriedly. “Hello? Izuku?”

“Hi. Um, I- I’m sorry, you were sleeping.” His voice sounds strange, hoarse and raspy, without any of its usual lightness.

You sit up quickly, forcing your brain into full wakefulness. “That’s alright, I don’t mind,” you say, putting as much reassurance into the statement as possible. “Did you want to talk? Are you home now?”

“Mhm,” he says. “I’m h-home.”

His words sound clipped, almost choked off, and suddenly you’re aware of his breathing. It’s getting faster even as you listen, almost gasping as he pulls in breath after breath.

“Izuku, what’s-” Batting down your own fear, you lower your voice, now soft like you’re talking a child out of a nightmare. Listening to his hitching breaths, you think you know what’s happening. “Izuku, are you having a panic attack?”

He makes a small sound, more of a sob than a word, and you know you’re right.

“Okay, that’s alright,” you murmur, pressing the phone to your face as if you can get closer to him. “I’m right here, you’re going to be okay. Just listen to me, okay? We’ll get through this.”

“Ye...y-” He cuts himself off with a choked sob, and your heart almost breaks right there.

You push the bed covers away to better concentrate, skin pebbling in the night air. “It’s okay, Izuku, you don’t need to talk. I’m not going anywhere. Listen to me breathing, now. Nice and slow, see if you can match it, okay?”

You take several breaths, counting them in and out, letting the smooth inhales calm your own heartbeat. It’s hard to hear through the phone, but you think Izuku’s breathing is maybe a little slower, backing away from the edge of hyperventilation, though you can tell he’s still struggling.

“That’s it, you’re doing really well,” you encourage gently. “Okay, now I want you to find something to touch, something nice and soft you can feel on your skin. You can take me with you, so you know I’m right here.”

Izuku makes a small noise of understanding, and through his panicked breathing, you hear the soft rustling of fabric. Closing your eyes against the dark of your room, you imagine him wrapped up in his All Might blanket.

He lets out another sob through his gasps, and you have to bite your lip to stop it from wobbling in response. “It’s going to be okay, Izuku. Hold onto what you picked, and focus on the sensation, let your fingers really feel it.”

You take some more long breaths, emphasising the noise of each inhale and exhale, hoping they reach him properly through the phone. Judging by what you hear, Izuku tries to match your breathing, but his gasping and crying doesn’t ease as much as you’d hoped. You wrack your brain, trying to think of some way you can help get him out of this, and decide to try a different tactic - distraction.

“Izuku?”

He grunts softly between breaths, the best acknowledgement he can manage, but you take it as a good sign - he’s definitely responsive to you talking.

“Izuku, what colour was All Might’s cape in his Bronze Age costume?”

The line goes quiet for a long moment, and you hold your breath.

“R-red,” comes the thick reply, and you smile with relief.

“Yes, good job! Now,” you pause, trying to flash through any hero trivia you can dredge up from memory. “What is the name of Kamui Woods’ famous special move?”

“Lacquered-“ Izuku stops to breathe for a second. “Lacquered Chains Prison.”

“You're doing so well, Izuku. Okay, now I need you to tell me who the top 5 heroes were when you first started at UA."

"All Might, Endeavor, Hawks, Best Jeanist, Edgeshot," Izuku says obediently, and though the words are unsteady, you can hear the way each name on the list helps to calm him down, like flowing through a mantra.

"I'll be honest, I don't actually know the right answer, so I'll have to trust you on that one," you tell him, still speaking gently, and are rewarded by a soft, raspy laugh.

The line goes quiet again, but you don't chase it, hoping that Izuku is slowly coming back in his own time now that he's through the worst.

"Hi," he says eventually, sounding small and exhausted, but much steadier.

"Hi." You offer a smile, despite knowing he can't see it.

There is a rustling noise, as if Izuku's shifting around, and then he says your name on a sigh. "Thank you for helping me. I'm so sorry, I-"

"Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for! I'm really, really glad you called me. How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks to you," he says with a sudden warmth that makes you bite your lip again. "Can we, um… would you-"

"Tell me what you need, I'm sure it's okay."

Izuku sighs shakily, sounding relieved. "Do… Do you think you could stay on the phone tonight? You don't need to say anything, just…"

"I'd love to," you say honestly, and your heart squeezes at the thought; he really wants you there. "Here, let me get sorted."

He hums a quiet agreement, and you shuffle down in your bed, pulling the covers back up past your shoulders. Switching your phone to loudspeaker, you rest it on the pillow next to you, and turn yourself to face it. You can hear the suggestion of similar movements on the other end, and close your eyes at the sudden rush of tenderness that sweeps through you.

"Okay," you whisper. "I'm ready to sleep, but first, I want to ask you something."

"Anything," Izuku murmurs.

"Will you come for a walk with me tomorrow? I have the day off and Ueno recommended a park with a really good crepe stall."

"Oh, yes," he says immediately. "I'd really like that."

"Good, I'll text you in the morning then." Your jaw cracks on a huge yawn as sleep starts to wind its claws into you. "Night, Izuku. Wake me if you need me, okay?"

"Thank you." Izuku's voice is soft, blurred as if sleep is creeping up on him, too. "Thank you so much. Goodnight."

Falling quiet, the line fills with the faint, gentle sounds of you both breathing, until you're eventually lulled into sweet unconsciousness.

~

As you walk into the park, you silently thank whatever higher power blessed the weather today. The sun is gloriously bright, but tempered by a gentle breeze, cool and silky as it ruffles over you.

Ueno was right, you think, looking around the park curiously. It's a little out of your normal area, so you hadn't explored it before, but it is absolutely beautiful. Long sweeps of paths curve off into the distance, winding around lawns and ponds and trees bursting with bright new foliage.

Casting your eye around the park entrance, you spot a familiar head of green hair, and hurry over. Izuku is always punctual when you meet, frequently arriving early, and you hope he hasn't been waiting too long. Luckily, the nearest station is literally just across the road from the park, so you’re arriving in good time yourself.

As you cast your eyes over his figure, worry and affection immediately overcome any shyness you may have had at seeing him in person for the first time in days.

"Izuku!" you call, and as soon as he turns, you throw your arms around him in a hug, putting all of your concern from the previous night into the gesture.

You feel a puff of air escape him at the force of your embrace, but he doesn't move an inch, steady and strong as his arms come up around you in return.

"Hello," he says, a little breathless as you squeeze him.

Pulling back, you examine his face carefully. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his freckled face lacks some of its usual healthy colour, but his expression is clear as he smiles at you in greeting. A sore-looking graze marrs one cheekbone, and you reach a finger up to hover over it delicately, frowning slightly.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh! I'm fine, this is nothing. I forgot it was there, actually," he says, waving his hands reassuringly. "The medical teams don't like to use healing quirks for little injuries like this, as well they shouldn't - they'd be constantly exhausted if they healed every bump for every hero! Healing quirks usually take a lot of energy, either from the giver or the receiver, so they have to be used very carefully."

You smile at him, filled with warmth to hear one of his informative tangents, his voice so relaxed and normal compared to your memory of the night before.

Izuku suddenly seems to realise how much he was talking. "Sorry! I'm just babbling away like always." He doesn't wait for your reassurance, instead indicating the nearest path leading deeper into the park. "Um, shall we walk?"

"Sounds good to me!"

You set off at a leisurely pace, meandering down the path and enjoying the scenery as the sun warms your face. Walking close together, your shoulders sometimes brush, but without the cover of darkness and alcohol, you don't feel quite confident enough to take Izuku's arm like you had that night. Even this closeness is pleasant, though, and contentment begins to radiate out from your chest.

"Thank you," Izuku says suddenly, voice quiet but sincere. He catches your eye for a moment, and then returns to the path ahead. "For last night, I mean. It really… you really helped me."

You murmur something vague in return, sensing he has more to say and not wanting to crush his delicate train of thought.

Izuku's eyes are distant when he continues. "Stuff like that happens sometimes after a big fight, or if something particular catches my eye, I guess. It's like some images or sounds trigger my brain, and because I have to concentrate on what I'm doing in the moment, it just comes back to overwhelm me when I'm finally safe again. Or when I'm sleeping, sometimes."

"You must have seen some terrible things as a hero," you say softly, trying to imagine the things he's faced. "It's no wonder they haunt you sometimes. Anyone would be affected by that, I think."

You’re sure there’s a bigger story there, too - nobody could get to where Izuku has without their fair share of trauma. But you’re just happy to hear whatever he wants to tell you, without feeling the need to dig for more. It’s more than enough to know that he trusts you.

He nods, sunlight catching in the myriad shades of green in his hair. "Normally I just try and wait until it passes, but I just felt like I had to hear your voice, like I knew you could help me." His laugh is a sweet and gentle sound. "I don't know if that makes sense, but that's how I felt. And I was right, you did help me! I can’t describe why, but you're so much of a comfort to me, I think… More than anyone else I know." Izuku's last words are heartfelt but uncertain, as if he's afraid you might take offense.

You feel a little like your heart is going to burst, and you know without a doubt that if you want to keep treasuring Izuku's friendship, you can't hold back from him anymore.

"I-" you start, and then swallow hard. "I feel the same."

Izuku looks at you then, wreathed in a golden smile that crinkles his eyes with happiness, and makes you wonder if it's possible to die of overwhelming brightness.

Thinking you need to have something solid under you for this next conversation, you steer towards a bench, sitting when Izuku nods his easy agreement. You can just about feel the warmth of his arm against yours.

The bench is perfectly situated to allow you to enjoy the view of a small, still pond, accented with a beautifully sculpted cypress tree. Letting your gaze wander across the gentle scene in front of you, you wonder how to begin what you want to say.

"Izuku?"

"Yes?"

"Do you remember how, after I explained that I was worried about being a burden, I told you that there was more to it, and I'd tell you one day?"

He inhales audibly, turning to regard you with wide eyes. "Of course I remember. But please, you don't have to feel pressured to tell me anything!"

"Don't worry, I don't feel pressured, not at all," you say, hurrying to reassure him. It's true - you implicitly trust that Izuku wouldn't push you into anything you're not comfortable with, and it is precisely that fact that is now making you itch to open up to him, and return some of the vulnerability he has shared with you.

Your fingers pull at a loose thread on your shirtsleeve. “You already know how I grew up in the system, obviously.” Izuku nods, his gaze serious and entirely focussed on you. “Well, I guess it’s the same old sad backstory you’ve heard a million times. My parents gave me up, so even as a small child I carried a sense of rejection and loneliness, and the system didn’t help. I was passed through foster homes and care homes, from pillar to post, and not once did I find an adult role model who truly was there for me. Every time I felt I was starting to set roots, like I could finally let go and feel at home, I would be moved away. Teachers didn’t care about a care home kid who was only temporary in their class, and the other kids in the homes all had their own issues.”

It feels bitter and dirty telling Izuku this, like you’re trying to sell a sob story, but it’s just the honest truth. Your eyes soak in the green of the cypress tree, focussing on the pattern of the foliage as if it can cleanse the feeling from you.

“I didn’t really help myself, either. The more times I was let down, the less I put myself out there. And I haven’t really managed to shake that habit yet, to be honest. I still use independence as a kind of self-protection - if I don’t rely on anyone, don’t let anyone in, then I can’t be hurt and torn apart when they eventually leave or let me down.”

You sigh, picking the thread until it starts to pull at the seam of your shirt. “That’s why I acted so horribly to you that week. I was scared of how close it felt like we were getting, and I couldn’t see how it wouldn’t end in pain for me. Not because you were untrustworthy, but the exact opposite. You are so inherently good, so far above me, that I couldn’t see how it would last. Good things like you don’t really happen to people like me.”

The thread tracks along, unravelling the seam millimetre by millimetre, and you can’t quite seem to stop. “But, Izuku, I think I underestimated you. Because you’re so good that you wouldn’t just leave and let me down, I think. And you should know that I treasure our friendship more than anything.”

You hear a soft stutter of breath, and are pulled abruptly out of your reverie, realising just how much has spilled out of your mouth. Feeling suddenly shamed by exposing yourself so much, you dart a sideways glance at Izuku. But rather than looking uncomfortable, or, as a small part of you had feared, like he wanted to leave, Izuku is gazing at you with tears bright in his eyes.

He reaches out, resting one warm hand on yours, halting the unravelling thread. “Thank you,” he breathes, one tear spilling down his cheek before he dashes it away. “Thank you for trusting me. And I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. I treasure our friendship, too.”

You flip your hand so you can squeeze his strong fingers in yours, and choke back your own tears with a laugh. “You’re going to make me cry, too, if you carry on like that.”

“Ah, I’m sorry!” Izuku looks faintly embarrassed, but chuckles a little damply, fishing out a pack of tissues and handing you one.

“Uraraka did tell me right at the beginning that you were a crybaby,” you say with a teasing smile, and then bump his shoulder gently. “But I don’t mind, and neither should you. Not enough people cry when they’re feeling strongly, I think.”

Izuku grins a wholehearted agreement, and you lapse into a comfortable silence. The park is quiet, and the gentle susurrus of wind in the trees paints your silence with a welcome peacefulness. You realise after a moment that Izuku’s hand is still clutched in your own, resting in your lap, and though you’re embarrassed, you can’t bring yourself to let go quite yet.

Lulled by the peace of the moment, you can’t help but be startled when Izuku suddenly sits bolt upright.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Letting go of your hand, Izuku rummages around in his bag, finally withdrawing a slim notebook, which he promptly hands to you. Turning it over curiously, you see the words ‘Children’s Quirks Vol 1’ written in neat lettering, and look up at Izuku in a silent question.

He rubs the back of his neck, smiling shyly. “I, um, put together some notes about quirks for Yuki and some of the other children. Just things I noticed and some suggestions about how they could use them safely, nothing crazy! I thought it might be useful to them, in case their quirk counselling through school misses out on something. Especially since they might not have the guidance of parents or family with similar quirks.”

As you listen to Izuku explain the notebook, you flip carefully through the pages. Sure enough, there are sections for each of the children at the home who have already manifested their quirks, and you’re amazed at how thorough it is. Izuku has included diagrams with his own notes and theories, along with suggestions of further reading and the names of researchers or experts who may be helpful.

“Izuku,” you breathe, heart squeezing in your chest. “This is amazing! Thank you so much, the kids will love it and I can already see a few things we can implement to help them.”

Pleasure beams out from Izuku like light from the sun. “It was no trouble, I enjoy this kind of stuff!”

You spend a few minutes paging through the notebook together, asking Izuku questions and letting him expand on points he thinks are particularly interesting. Having paid very little attention to quirks due to your own lack of one, it is amazing to hear the sheer depth and breadth of his knowledge and analysis.

Though you could happily listen to Izuku talk forever, you eventually start to feel hungry, and after carefully stowing the notebook away in your own bag, you lead Izuku through the park to the crepe stand Ueno had mentioned.

As expected from your reliable colleague, the crepes are as good as promised, and your enjoyment of them is only enhanced by the way Izuku’s eyes light up as soon as he bites into his.

With your conversations moving onto lighter topics - such as what kind of crepe each of the top 10 heroes would prefer, and whether French food is inherently fancier or just exciting because it is foreign - the time slips by, and before you know it, you’re back at the park entrance and saying goodbye.

You make sure to catch Izuku’s eye, wanting to tell him one last thing before you go. “Hey, I just wanted to say again that I’m really glad you called me last night. And I want you to keep calling me anytime you need to, or even if you need me to come over or whatever. You just have to ask, okay?”

Izuku nods, several dark curls wavering and catching in the breeze. “I promise I will, but only if you do the same!” he says earnestly, returning your gaze as intensely as you gave it.

You grin. “It’s another deal, then.”

“Yep, it’s a deal,” he repeats. Then his expression softens, and he gathers you into a close hug. You close your eyes, burying your face in his shoulder for an instant of self-indulgence before you have to pull away. Izuku watches to make sure you get into the station safely, and you give each other one last wave before disappearing.

The whole journey home, you recount the day’s events in your head, running through your conversations and repeating everything over and over. Despite your best attempts at worrying and over analysing, though, you just end up smiling to yourself. Izuku had not let you down in any way; in fact, he was constantly exceeding your expectations.

When you had first met him, you’d been awed by Izuku’s heroic nature, his positivity and strength. That awe hasn’t gone away, but what is more precious to you now is that you feel you are starting to know him as a person, and maybe even to see parts of him that others don’t. Certainly, Izuku has now seen parts of you that nobody ever has, and rather than feel exposed or weak, instead you just feel held.

Izuku is now closer to you than any person has ever been, and you don’t regret anything about that.

Chapter Text

Izuku loves his friends. His middle school self could never have even dreamed of having the life he has now, with so many wonderful people around him. They support and inspire each other, and he is so grateful for them every single day of his life.

Yet despite how incredible his friends are, despite how well they know and take care of him, sometimes the one person Izuku needs is his mother.

Inko still lives in the same apartment that Izuku had grown up in, and as he pulls out his door key, accompanied by a shabby Best Jeanist keyring, he feels the comforting familiarity of coming home. No matter how old he gets, or how long he's lived independently, this will always be home in his heart.

Izuku lets himself in, opening the door only to be greeted by a cloud of delicious smells. His stomach growls by reflex, sensing the proximity of his mother's cooking.

"I'm home!" he calls, shucking his shoes and jacket.

"Oh! Izuku, my baby!" Inko fairly flies out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron and immediately folding him into a warm embrace. He has to duck down to hug her properly, yet Izuku still feels like a small child the moment he feels her gentle hands patting his back and smoothing his hair.

"Hi, Mum," he says into the top of her head, smiling as she pushes him away so she can use the corner of her apron to pat tears off her face. A Midoriya reunion always involves some amount of tears.

"Izuku, it's been too long since you last came back," Inko scolds, smiling up at him through her tears. She squeezes his arm appraisingly. "Have you been eating enough? I'm sure you don't feed yourself properly."

"Of course I do, you know I follow All Might's meal plan advice very carefully," Izuku says patiently, following her through to the kitchen.

Inko tuts. "Yes, well, what Yagi thinks he knows about feeding a healthy young man when he goes around looking half on the edge of death, I don’t know.”

“Mum!” Izuku gasps, scandalised.

“Oh, go on with you, you know I’ve told Yagi that many times before to his face.” Inko frowns as she takes up a large spoon, brandishing it like a weapon. “That man needs to take better care of himself, and he won’t unless we tell him to! Now go on and sit yourself down, dinner will be ready shortly.”

Despite his dramatic protests, Izuku is actually warmed by her care for All Might. The two met many times over the years, and with Izuku as a mutual interest, they had eventually become good friends. Izuku smiles at the thought as he obediently takes a seat at the table; All Might has always been like family to him, so it was one of his biggest joys in life that Inko had eventually grown to have the same sentiment.

Inko bustles about the small kitchen, her movements well-practiced and achingly familiar as she serves up two generous bowls of katsudon. Izuku grins at her when he sees an extra serving of tonkatsu piled onto his meal, and she returns the expression with an indulgent wink. Giving a hurried thanks for the meal, Izuku wastes no time in digging in, closing his eyes in bliss as he eats.

Inko lets him get a decent way into his meal before regarding him steadily, chopsticks held delicately in one hand.

“So,” she says lightly. “What’s on your mind, honey?”

Izuku immediately feels that specific guilty sensation of a child who has been figured out by their parent. “Um, nothing particularly!” he says, swallowing awkwardly as her eyes narrow. “Why do you ask?”

“You think I can’t tell when my own son is worrying over something?” she says with a little frown, and then her eyes soften. “You may be grown now, but you’ll always be my son, and knowing when there’s something on your mind is just part of being your mother! Now, come on, sweetie, you know you can tell me anything.”

Izuku sighs, putting his chopsticks down gently and furrowing his brows. He doesn’t know where to start - he hasn’t told his mother anything about you yet, and his feelings are so mixed up and confused inside that his words seem stuck in his brain.

A soft hand rests over his. “It’s alright, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t really want to,” Inko says gently, smiling at him reassuringly. “I know you’ll come to me when you’re good and ready.”

“No, it’s okay. I think I’d like to talk about it, I just don’t know where to begin.”

She pats his hand, and then picks her chopsticks back up with a matter of fact expression. “There’s nowhere else to start but at the beginning, Izuku!”

Izuku can’t help his chuckle, and the warmth of laughter somehow helps to dislodge the blockage in his chest. “You’re right, of course.”

“Mothers usually are,” she says innocently, and then twinkles a smile at him when he laughs again.

“Okay, okay.” Izuku takes a breath in, figuring out what he wants to say. “Well, a few weeks ago, I made a new friend, and I guess I’m having some trouble figuring some stuff out in my head.”

Inko gasps, hand flying to her mouth. “My baby finally met someone?!”

“No! I mean, kind of? Oh god, I don’t know!” Feeling a blush rising up his neck, Izuku silently commends himself for deciding to keep the exact details of who you are to himself - this is already embarrassing enough with even vague information.

“Okay, that’s alright. But you do like this person, then?” Inko asks, visibly trying to calm herself to give him the space he needs to talk.

He sags against the table, propping his head up in his hands. “I like them so much, Mum!” he moans.

“That’s wonderful, honey!” The sincerity in her voice is fortifying. “Tell me about them, what kind of person are they?”

Not for the first time in his life, Izuku is grateful for how well his mother knows him - clearly she can sense that he is not ready to divulge names and specifics, and so isn’t pressing him on it.

“They’re…” he sighs again, wondering how he can even begin to describe you. “They’re wonderful. They work with children, and they’re so brave and funny and kind… and really cute and gorgeous, and-” Izuku squeezes his eyes closed against the wave of embarrassment at talking about this with his mother. “I think I liked them from the moment I saw them, if I’m being honest.”

Inko makes a small squeaking noise, and when Izuku looks up, she's hastily dabbing at her face.

"Mum! Oh my god, don't cry, we're not even like that!"

She flaps a hand at him. "I'm sorry, Izuku, it's just that you've always been so dedicated to your hero work - and you know I'm so proud of you - but I can't help worrying about you being lonely, or missing out on what other people get to have, you know?"

Izuku has known this for a long time, and knows it's a source of anxiety for her, so he reaches out to pat her arm comfortingly. He hates worrying her, but with the lifestyle he's chosen, there isn't much he can do about it. Inko gives him a slightly damp smile, then clutches her handkerchief with sudden determination.

"Sorry, honey, I interrupted you! Where were we? Oh yes, this person sounds incredible, and you clearly like them a lot." She beams at him, and Izuku feels himself blush all over again. "So, tell me why you're all confused and talking to me, instead of this wonderful new friend."

Izuku takes several bites of his food, sitting half-eaten and almost forgotten in front of him, to give himself time to clarify his thoughts into words. His mother just watches him with endless patience and a gentle smile.

He swallows. "So, it's a bit complicated, but to put it simply, they haven't had an easy life. They didn't have a loving and secure home when they grew up, like I did." Feeling a wave of gratitude, Izuku can't help but reach out to pat her on the arm again, needing to make some physical connection to show the warmth of his feelings.

"And so they sometimes find it difficult to really let people into their life, because they're so scared of being let down, or abandoned, like they have been so many times before."

Inko nods sadly, her face full of compassion. "Poor child," she murmurs.

"But recently, I think…" Izuku's throat feels tight and thick with sudden pride. "I think they trust me, Mum. We talked this morning, and they really confided in me, even though it’s hard for them. And they told me they treasure our friendship."

"Oh, Izuku," Inko says, her eyes shining with emotion.

Izuku laughs shakily. "Yeah, exactly. So even though I thought maybe there was something more happening between us, and I was even trying to get the courage to say something, there's no way I can do that now. They finally let me in, and so there's absolutely no way I can risk ruining our friendship, not when they've put so much out there for me. Not when they need me as a friend," he finishes fiercely, remembering the way you'd sounded when you'd told him you trusted that he would never leave you. Izuku couldn’t risk hurting you, even if it meant hurting himself a little.

Inko hums thoughtfully. “I can see what you mean. Since they’ve put their precious trust in you as a friend, you don’t want to hurt them or risk it by changing things.” She gives him a soft look, filled with pride and affection. “You’ve always been so caring of others, and I know how much you’re driven to protect people, it’s what makes you such a great hero.”

Izuku ducks his head with a mumbled, “Thanks, Mum.”

She leans across the table, cupping his cheek gently in one hand. “I can tell that you cherish this person, Izuku. They obviously make you very happy, and it sounds like you do the same for them. If you need to remain just friends, to keep supporting them, then so be it. As long as it still brings you joy, and not pain, then you should hold on to each other in whatever way you need to.”

“Yes,” he whispers in reply. “I think you’re right.”

Closing his eyes, Izuku leans into the comforting touch for a moment, before she pats his cheek and pulls away. It feels validating, to have his mother agree with Izuku’s own thoughts on everything, and so, despite the sharp longing in his chest, he focuses his resolve on being there as the best friend for you that he can possibly be. And he carefully doesn’t tell his mother that the joy and the pain he feels right now are equal.

~

It's only when Izuku gets home later that night, alone in his apartment, that he realises he might need to change some of his plans.

Collapsing onto his sofa with a grateful sigh, he rests his head back and stares at the ceiling blankly, letting thoughts run rapidly through his head.

It's not like he'd had a huge romantic gesture planned for you or anything - though his heart beats traitorously fast at the mere idea - but any thought Izuku might have been harbouring about confessing now needs to be squashed and restructured as a friendship thing.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he pulls out his phone with sudden determination and dials one of several familiar numbers.

"Hi Deku!" Uraraka answers immediately and cheerily, and Izuku can't help but smile. "You okay?"

"Hi! I'm fine, thanks. Are you okay, after yesterday?" He feels a squeeze of guilt for not checking in with her earlier. "I saw how much you used your quirk, you and Tenya were amazing out there! But are you feeling okay? I know you haven't floated something of that sheer size in a while."

She laughs, unconcerned. "Oh yeah, I definitely barfed several times yesterday, but I'm all good now!"

"That's great, you're getting stronger every time!" Izuku hesitates, then decides to just get it over with. "Hey, Uraraka? I don't need that plus one for the Gala anymore, do you know if I have to tell the organisers or something?"

There’s a short pause, as if Uraraka is considering the meaning behind his question. “But Deku, I thought you were going to invite Cake to come with you? Did something happen?”

“No! No, everything’s fine,” Izuku hurries to reassure his friend, hearing the concern in her voice. “I just feel like it might not be the right time for that, uh, kind of thing?” he says, keeping it vague. He’d told his mother pretty much everything about your conversation in the park, but Uraraka knows you in person, and it feels too much like breaking your confidence to tell her the whole story.

Uraraka sighs, and when she next speaks, it is with a very Uraraka-like blend of gentle and stern. “Deku, look, if you don’t want to try and take things to the next level, you don’t have to, okay? But that doesn’t mean you can’t spend a fun night together as friends! You don’t have to deny yourself nice things so much. Use the plus one, it’ll be fun for us all to hang out together! We could use the fresh air of someone new at these things anyway, to be honest.”

Izuku laughs at that. Though the various Galas and parties were exciting when they first debuted as heroes, after years of attendance, they had all grown weary of the repeated theatrics. “That’s true. Okay, I’ll use it, and we’ll come together, as friends.”

“Yay! I’m looking forward to it, I think it’ll be really fun. We can all hang out together as a group!” Uraraka chirps. “Anyway, I gotta go now, but I’ll see you at the agency tomorrow, ‘kay? Bye Deku!”

“Thanks Uraraka, see you tomorrow!”

Izuku sits quietly for a long moment, letting his thoughts settle as he listens to his Kamui Woods clock steadily ticking in the silence. Uraraka is right, of course. If he wants to keep you close as a friend, which he absolutely does, Izuku can't shy away from inviting you to things in his life, even if it does hurt his heart a little. But that’s okay, Izuku can handle a little hurt if he knows it will make you happy.

Feeling back on solid ground again, Izuku checks the time isn’t too late before dialling your number, which is always at the top of his recent contacts these days. He feels the familiar swooping in his stomach when you answer, sounding pleased to hear from him.

“Hello, Izuku.”

“Hi,” he says stupidly, trying to get a handle on the silly smile that’s crept across his face. “Um, it’s not too late to talk, is it? I’m sorry if I disturbed you!”

“No, not at all! I was just watching TV anyway,” you say with a little laugh.

“Okay, good. I wanted to ask you if, uh, if you’re free on the evening of the 23rd?” Izuku takes a deep breath to steel his nerves, reminding himself sternly that it’s okay, this is just as friends, nothing more. “There’s this hero event coming up, a kind of Gala thing, and all my friends will be there, and I wondered if maybe you’d like to come as well?”

The call goes silent for what is probably seconds, but feels like torturous minutes.

“Oh!” you say eventually, sounding overwhelmed. “Wow, thank you! I’d love to, but to be honest I don’t think I have anything suitable to wear to something like that. I mean, I’ve seen those kinds of event in the news before, and to be frank there’s no way I could afford-”

“I’ll pay!” Izuku blurts, then winces at his own lack of tactfulness, covering his face with one hand. “Um. I mean, our agency has a budget for each of these events, and since you’d technically be my plus one, that covers you as well.”

“Are you sure? Is that normal for the agency to pay for a non-employee? I really don’t want to be a problem or anything.”

“Absolutely,” Izuku says, making sure to firm his voice up to give you the reassurance you clearly need. “The budget is for each invitee and their plus one. Who everyone invites is entirely up to them.” He carefully doesn’t mention that this will be the first time any of them have actually followed through on the plus one option.

You hesitate for a moment, before making a pleased noise. “Then I’d love that, thank you!”

“Ah! That’s great!” Izuku can’t help the shimmer of excitement that goes through him, but tries to stay focussed. “We should probably go shopping for some outfits then, if that’s okay with you? I could use the help, last time Kacchan literally exploded my tie because he said the colour made him want to vomit.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” you say with a bright laugh. “We’ll see if we can find something suitably unexplodable.”

Feeling buoyed up by the excitement running through your voice, Izuku happily confirms a day and time for the shopping trip, warning you that it is quite likely some of his friends may decide they want to come too, and then reluctantly bids you goodnight and ends the call.

“... Treasure our friendship more than anything,” he murmurs to himself like a mantra, hearing your voice clearly in his mind. He feels a spark of fierce resolution at the words, and knows he will do anything to protect that friendship, for you.

Chapter Text

You haven't seen Izuku in person since the trip to the park, so you're feeling a soft buzz of anticipation as you walk to your agreed meeting spot outside the shopping district. You haven't been to this area before because of its exclusive nature, populated by tasteful and very expensive-looking shops and high end restaurants.

It makes you wonder whether Izuku is used to this type of luxury - though his apartment and lifestyle seem modest, you know for a fact that Pro Heroes at his level can earn a very handsome amount. Not that any of the heroes you've met through Izuku have been anything other than down to earth, though.

Through the cloud of your thoughts, you hear your name being called, and finally see Izuku waving at you from across a small plaza, already starting towards you with a big grin. Distracted by the gloriousness that is Izuku's full beam smile, it takes you a belated moment to notice that he isn't alone. Uraraka bounces along at his side, sipping boba from behind a huge pair of sunglasses.

"Hi!" Izuku greets you, the second he’s close enough to be heard. He strides forward and hugs you in greeting, though it feels a little more reserved than normal - probably because Uraraka is watching. It still makes your heart beat faster, though, and a traitorous part of you wishes that he’d come on his own.

Uraraka is immediately behind him, hugging you and swaying you from side to side in a happy wiggle. You have a moment of fear for her drink before you realise that it’s floating just next to her elbow. It’s not often that you get quirk envy, but you can’t help thinking that being able to float things must be so useful.

"Waah, it's been so long since I saw you, I just had to gate crash your shopping trip. I hope you don't mind!" she says excitedly. "Plus, you’re gonna need all the help you can get to steer Deku right," she adds with a mischievous grin, ignoring Izuku's spluttered protests.

You laugh, already infected by Uraraka’s cheer. “Well, I hope you can help me as well then, because I genuinely have no idea where to start looking for this kind of dress code. Is there even an official dress code?” You look at Izuku in a sudden panic of uncertainty, and he nods reassuringly.

“There is a dress code, but don't worry about it because we both know it by heart!” Izuku says, as he and Uraraka flank you and begin walking purposefully towards a specific row of shops. “It never really changes over the years, so once you’ve figured it out the first time, you know it for every future occasion too.”

“Exactly!” Uraraka chips in. “Besides, it’s really not that complicated anyway - we’re talking black tie, so pretty much just the most formal you’re comfortable with!” She leans forward to peer across you to Izuku, smiling sweetly. “The hardest part is learning how to have any sense of fashion, isn’t that right, Deku?”

“Uraraka!” Izuku groans, flapping a hand at her. “Give me a break, or I’m never going to make it through the day.”

She sniggers, sipping her boba innocently while you glance between them, amused by her teasing. Izuku gives you an ‘I’m so hard done by’ expression, but ruins it by instantly following up with a smile. Not for the first time, you think how nice it is to be around Izuku and his friends, to enjoy their easy banter and clear affection. Though there had been that moment where a small, possessive part of you had wished that Izuku had come on his own, you really are happy to have Uraraka around.

Right before the three of you walk into a large store which even smells expensive, Uraraka carefully gets rid of her now empty cup, and turns to you and Izuku with the light of battle in her eyes.

“Right!” she says, clapping her hands together. “Here’s the plan of attack. I’m going to get my stuff sorted first, while you two look around.” She points a finger at you imperiously, all the while maintaining a chipper smile. “Then, you and I are going to handle Deku together while we still have plenty of energy. After sorting him out, finding you an outfit will be like a holiday!”

Izuku salutes her obediently, and you voice your agreement, happy for someone else to take charge.

“Great!” Uraraka beams at you both before marching off into the store. “Let’s go!”

Izuku sidles up next to you, leaning in so you can barely feel the brush of his words against your ear. “See,” he murmurs. “I told you she could be terrifying!”

“Oh, I fully believe you now,” you answer solemnly, and try not to stare at the way amusement twinkles in his eyes.

After arranging to meet you in a short while, Uraraka goes off to do her own thing, while you and Izuku wander aimlessly through the aisles, footsteps quiet on the thick carpet. The store is much bigger than you’d realised from the outside, and to your surprise, it seems to sell all types of clothing, from casual right up to ball gowns - though everything is appropriately expensive. Tasteful signs amongst the rails and displays point out particular items which can be adapted to fit people with mutation quirks, and well-dressed sales assistants nod politely as you pass by.

“Izuku,” you whisper, and he tilts his head towards you. “Where do we even start?”

He makes an exaggerated scared face. “I have no idea! I mean, I know I want a suit, so I guess I’ll have a look over there, and then Uraraka can come and throw away all my selections and choose some new ones.”

You snort with laughter and try to muffle it behind your hand, conscious of the snooty eyes watching you. “At least let me see what you chose first, so I know what not to pick to avoid her wrath as well, okay?”

Izuku grins and nods enthusiastically. “Bring her over to the changing room in the back corner and I’ll show you both at once!” He turns to leave, then hesitates for a second. “But don’t worry about yourself, you always look nice, so I’m sure you’ll be fine!”

He hurries off before you have a chance to reply, and you’re left wandering the shopfloor on your own, fingers trailing through swatches of luxe textiles as you try to calm yourself from the sudden compliment.

Though Uraraka had instructed you to get a feel for what you wanted to try on, you’re finding it hard to actually look at anything seriously. You know barely anything about what happens at these kinds of events, and on top of that, it feels incredibly awkward to choose for yourself when someone else is paying and you have no idea of the budget.

So you just wander until it is time to meet with Uraraka again. Finding the bubbly hero chatting animatedly with a sales assistant, you hover awkwardly in the background until she’s finished.

“All sorted?” you ask somewhat shyly, wondering whether you should have returned the favour and helped Uraraka with her choices.

Uraraka looks completely smug, though, as she beams at you. “Yep! I already knew what I wanted, so I just needed to get it fitted for some small alterations. Now, c’mon Cake, I’m going to need you on top Deku-wrangling form, so I hope you’re up to the challenge!”

Eyes gleaming, she links her arm through yours, and marches you off towards the changing room you indicate under some quickfire questioning.

When you arrive, though, there’s no sign of Izuku, just another sales assistant hovering near a selection of plush chairs and sofas, arranged in front of the large changing room, which is currently closed off by a heavy velvet curtain.

“Deku?!” Uraraka calls, spinning around to try and glimpse him. You see the sales assistant wince slightly at the volume of her voice. “You better not have run away!”

You hear a muffled squawk and a thump from inside the changing room itself, and sit yourself down on a chaise longue with a snigger as Uraraka whirls to stare at the curtain.

“Deku,” she says again, in a menacingly sweet singsong voice. “Is that you in there? I thought we agreed that we would help you choose, hmm?”

She advances towards the curtain, but the sales assistant steps in front of her hastily.

“Ah, I am sorry Madam, but the changing room is currently occupied, and I cannot allow you past here.”

“That’s okay!” Uraraka chirps. “I’ll just wait right out here until he’s ready, ‘kay?”

The sales assistant nods reluctantly, so she plops herself down into a plushy armchair next to you and pulls out her phone as you both wait. Barely a minute passes before you hear a soft exclamation of delight from behind the curtain, and this time you clearly recognise Izuku’s voice.

“Uraraka? Are you guys still there?” his voice calls a moment later, quivering with anticipation. “I think I’ve found it… the perfect outfit!”

“We’re both still here and waiting with baited breath for whatever you have got to show us,” Uraraka says with a grin and an exaggerated roll of her eyes to you.

“Come on out, Izuku,” you call a little more encouragingly, and are rewarded by the curtain sliding to the side.

Izuku strides proudly out of the changing room, and you immediately choke on your own saliva. Uraraka murmurs some extremely foul language under her breath, and then slides right out of her chair with a squeak. Even the sales assistant looks affected, turning and covering their face in a quick, and very suspicious, cough.

Izuku looks… horrendous, is the only word you can come up with. Somehow, in this expensive and stylish store, he has managed to find an outfit so garish you think it’s permanently burned into your retinas. Neon yellow trousers are topped with a flamboyant red shirt that practically buries Izuku up to his chin in ruffles. The final piece of the ensemble is a blue tuxedo jacket, terribly fitted, and decorated with lines of white and red running along the lapels, cuffs, and bottom hem.

You try to breathe through your hacking and spluttering, not entirely sure whether you’re choking on laughter or actually dying. Izuku’s proud grin falters a bit as he sends you a concerned look, but you wave him off.

“I-It’s All Might’s colours!” you manage to wheeze, wiping at an errant tear.

“Exactly!” Izuku says delightedly, striking a pose.

Uraraka, who has been sitting on the floor and silently gaping at her friend, whips her phone out and begins tapping, lightning-fast. “You’ve crossed a line this time, Deku!” she says furiously. “Even I can’t forgive this monstrosity, and I was the only one who didn’t say anything about last year’s tie!”

“Uraraka! How can you say that when I’m so happy? I feel like I’ve come home!” Izuku says, pouting at Uraraka and then shooting you a sly grin when she squeals with fury.

“You won’t get away with this! I’m sending Bakugou a picture, right now!”

The grin on Izuku’s face drops, and he dives for Uraraka’s phone without hesitation. “No! Noo, don’t send it to Kacchan! Agh!”

Uraraka shrieks with laughter as they wrestle, but she holds him at bay determinedly, and then throws you the phone. “Cake! Take it, quick! Send it!”

Fumbling to catch the device, you clutch it to your chest, laughing as Uraraka heaves Izuku off her with a mighty push of her legs. Even while they’re play fighting, you can see the sheer strength and skill in both of their movements.

“Cake! Send the photo! Do it now!” Uraraka growls, trying to hold Izuku back as he turns to you, her muscled biceps straining as she grips his shoulders.

Despite her clear and very impressive strength, Izuku manages to shrug Uraraka off without difficulty. He advances a few steps towards you, the light of battle in his eyes. Your breath catches, and you feel blood rush to your face as the image of wrestling with him hits you.

“Help,” you whisper. “Uravity, help!”

Unfortunately, invoking her hero name does nothing to gain you any support. “Nope, you’re on your own now! Should’ve sent the photo when I told you,” Uraraka says, breathing hard and smiling sweetly at you.

Izuku advances further, but when his eyes meet yours, you see a flush rise up from his neck to match your own. You laugh weakly, a nervous sound that has you cringing inside, and then thrust the phone towards him. His fingers brush yours as he takes it, and the way he smiles gratefully does nothing to calm your suddenly racing heart.

Izuku glances at the phone, and huffs a huge sigh of relief. “Ah, thank god, you didn’t send it!”

“Yeah, you got away with it this time, but only because Cake’s more loyal to you than to me,” Uraraka says, wrinkling her nose goodnaturedly at you when you shrug in mute explanation. “Now, you need to get those clothes off, Deku, and we all need to apologise. Quickly!”

Her tone is still light, but at her prompting, you look around to see a small selection of staff hovering fretfully, attracted by the fighting and shrieking, and dithering about how to handle it.

Izuku gasps, and then there’s a flurry of action as he hastily bows several apologies, promises to return all the clothes unscathed, and then disappears into the changing room. Seeing that the disturbance was good-natured, most of the staff melt away, leaving the one original sales assistant, who eyes Uraraka warily as she approaches.

The expression melts away into polite interest, though, when Uraraka merely spins off into a description of an outfit she wants Izuku to try on, detailing everything from shoes to cufflinks. Before long, there are hangers and boxes being delivered through the curtain to a chorus of Izuku’s muffled thanks.

“Are you done yet, Deku? Come out and show us!”

Uraraka has sat herself next to you, forming a small audience ready for the grand reveal. She bounces a little, clasping her hands and flashing you an anticipatory grin.

When the curtain finally pulls back, you are not disappointed.

Once again, Izuku is breathtaking. But whereas last time you literally choked on the horror of his virulent getup, this time you're speechless for quite the opposite reason.

The three piece suit is a deep, charcoal grey, and even without tailoring it is deliciously fitted, skimming over the long athletic lines of his limbs. The dark colour somehow highlights the deep tones in his hair, and makes his eyes look even brighter. Izuku steps closer, adjusting one cuff self-consciously.

"Is it okay?" He glances between you and Uraraka uncertainly. "It's only the first one, so I could try something else if you think it doesn't work. I was a little bit worried it might be too slim fit anyway?"

He turns, twisting to look down at himself, and you're treated to the perfect view of exactly how beautifully fitted the trousers are in the back. Tearing your eyes away with a strangled noise that you try to hide behind a cough, you hurriedly focus your eyes anywhere but on the vision before you.

Uraraka pats your knee. "It's perfect, Deku. You look amazing!”

“Yeah,” you say, desperately hoping that you’ve managed to school your expression. “You look really, really nice.”

To your endless relief, Izuku turns back around to face you both, wearing a pleased smile and looking faintly pink around the ears.

“Ah, thank you! It was all your choice, Uraraka, so thanks!”

The sales assistant looks incredibly pleased with themselves as Izuku arranges to purchase the exact outfit, and then goes on to have a proper consultation for a truly tailored fit. Uraraka turns to you in the meantime.

“Don’t worry,” she says, leaning in so close that you can see the flecks in her warm brown eyes. “We’ll get you looking so good that Deku’s brain will melt!”

“Oh! Um, no. I mean, thank you? But that’s-” you stutter frantically, horrified at the thought that another of Izuku’s friends has figured you out - you’re fairly sure that Todoroki saw right through you the other night. But Uraraka completely ignores you, cheerfully announcing to Izuku that while he finishes up, the two of you will be looking around.

Taking you by the hand, she tows you around the store, pointing out different styles and fabrics. Completely overwhelmed, you are happy just to follow her lead and provide your opinion when prompted - you know what you like in casual clothes, and Uraraka helps you to translate that into something event appropriate. You haven’t been shopping with a friend in years, and Uraraka makes it so easy - she’s encouraging and positive, but also willing to give you her honest opinions when she doesn’t like something.

Once you have a few selections that you’re both excited about, Uraraka leads you back to the changing room, floating the clothes in a small pile. Izuku is there, now back in his normal clothes, and brightens when he sees you.

“I was just coming to find you two! Have you had any luck?”

Uraraka points smugly at the floating pile of clothes, and you nod your enthusiastic agreement.

“Uraraka has literally saved my life, I would have had no idea where to start without her!”

Izuku and Uraraka both beam at you, and you suddenly wish that sunglasses were part of your selections. While Izuku chatters happily about how well the trip is going, Uraraka hustles you into the changing room.

Finally alone, and sheltered behind the heavy curtain, you take a minute to breathe and survey your options. Even without anyone watching, you feel overwhelmingly shy, and try on the first few outfits without going out to get opinions. The room is furnished with large, gleaming mirrors, and is big enough that you don’t need to move to be able to see when something doesn’t quite work.

The third outfit you try feels completely different to the others. The moment you put it on, it just feels right. Smoothing the rich fabrics down your body, you swivel on the spot, admiring your reflection. You feel suddenly and amazingly buoyant, confident in that special way that only finding a rare, perfect outfit can create. The length needs adjusting a little, but otherwise, you can’t imagine finding a more perfect option than this.

Unable to hold back your excited grin, you whip back the curtain. “I think this is the one!”

Uraraka immediately gasps, clapping her hands together as she jumps from her seat. “Yes! Oh my gosh, you look incredible! Wait here, I’m going to find the sales assistant right now to put the order in.” She barely gives you a chance to wave before she bounds away.

Still grinning, you turn to Izuku. “Is it definitely okay? I don’t want to stand out for being dressed wrong or any...thing…” you trail off at the look on Izuku’s face.

He is staring at you, eyes wide and filled with an intensity that makes your heart thump abruptly. There’s colour high on his cheekbones. Gaze raking the full length of your body, Izuku murmurs something low under his breath.

Your hands have started sweating. “Um, Izuku?”

“It’s... you’re absolutely gorgeous,” he says quietly, finally meeting your eye so you can’t mistake the honesty in his words. “And the colour on you - I mean, that particular shade of green, it’s the same as… You look like you’re mi-” He shakes his head abruptly, expression splintering into something fierce and torn before going carefully blank. “It’s lovely, you won’t stand out at all, I promise. Not for the wrong reasons, anyway.”

“Okay, thank you,” you manage, feeling inexplicably shaky. “I’ll go and take it off for now, I guess.”

Barely waiting for his nod, you slip back into the changing room and pull the curtain closed before slumping heavily onto the stool in the corner. God, you’d known you had a crush on Izuku for a while now, but you’re amazed at how breathless his mere approval has made you feel. Shaking your head with a soft groan, you pray for the strength to carry on, and scramble out of the expensive clothes.

~

Uraraka insists that all good shopping trips should end with food, so you find yourself ensconced in a cute little cafe and refuelling with an obnoxious, but completely necessary, amount of sugar.

“Thank you so much for all of this,” you say after a while of satisfied silence as you all sip your drinks. “For helping me, and buying the clothes, I mean. And for inviting me in the first place! I can’t imagine how many people would dream of getting to attend a hero function like this.”

Izuku puts his coffee down with a clink. “No need to thank us, it’s our pleasure!” he says, and his smile has a now-familiar edge of determination that you know means he will brook no argument.

Uraraka nods. “It really is! It’s always fun hanging out with you, and at this point, we’re all bored of each other, so we need fresh blood to keep things interesting.”

“Will everyone I know be there? All the heroes I’ve met so far, I mean. Because somebody must still be on alert for emergencies or whatever, right?”

“Absolutely!” Izuku perks up, eyes gleaming with this new subject. “It’s actually an interesting point, because the statistics show that crime rates actually fall during events like this, when you’d really expect an increase, and…”

You and Uraraka exchange a fond look as he launches into a long explanation of how the various hero agencies make arrangements for large scale events. You don’t quite comprehend everything he tells you, but manage to gain the main point - which is that all of Izuku’s friends you have met so far will be at the gala, for at least a short time.

He also tells you a bit more about the event itself. Apparently it is mainly publicity; some awards and accolades are given for particularly noteworthy performances, and attention is garnered for the chosen charities of the evening. The press are allowed in for the first, more formal, part of the evening, after which the event becomes more of a large party.

With Uraraka’s help, Izuku makes arrangements with you for the evening, including the fact that he will pick you up from your apartment in an agency car. Anticipation flutters in you as the plans are made, and your head spins a little if you consider it too closely - who are you, a random civilian, to be attending this prestigious, celebrity event?

But the excited smiles on your friends’ faces help to turn at least some of your nerves into sheer excitement, and when you finally bid them goodbye, you feel yourself strengthened by a sudden sense of determination. If this is a once in a lifetime event, then you will simply have to make the most of it that you can.

~

After waving goodbye to you, Izuku sags against Uraraka.

“Why would you do that to me?” he moans, feeling her shoulder shake with silent laughter. “That outfit, and that green.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Deku!” Uraraka says airily, but her eyes gleam .

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Izuku frowns then, turning so she can see that he’s serious now. “Look, thank you so much for helping today, we really needed it. But you can’t try and matchmake or anything from now on, okay?”

She returns his frown. “Deku, you should know that I think you’re going about this all wrong. You’re determined to stop yourself from being happy, and I don’t like it.” Uraraka sighs, face softening. “But of course I’ll respect your wishes.”

Izuku nods his thanks, staring blankly in the direction that you’d disappeared. “The thing is,” he says quietly. “It’s not about my happiness alone. I’m as happy as I can be cherishing this friendship, and anything else I may have thought about needs to be put aside. No matter how hard it might be.”

Uraraka squeezes his arm gently, and he feels a rush of gratitude for the steady support and affection in her smile. “Okay,” she says softly. “We’ll talk about this again, but for now you do what you think is best, and I won’t push anything else.”

She pats his arm, gives him a hug goodbye that nearly crushes the life out of him, and then rushes off with the promise to be in touch soon.

Izuku stays where he is for a moment longer, still staring at the spot where he’d seen you last. He can’t forget the possessiveness that had clawed through him, seeing you dressed in his colours, and not even aware of how you looked. It had taken everything ounce of his broken wits not to say something damning, and he just hopes that you hadn’t seen the need that had coursed through him.

He knows he has to let this side of his feelings for you go, embrace the warmth and closeness of your friendship together, and treasure the trust you have placed in him. That’s the right thing to do. Isn’t it?

“God, please let this be the right thing,” he whispers.

Despite all of this, despite his determination to let his crush fizzle away under the light of your friendship, Izuku is unbearably excited to take you to the gala. Maybe for this one night, at least, he can just enjoy having you on his arm, and make the most of it while it lasts.

Chapter Text

You pace the short stretch of floor between your sofa and your kitchen, fingers tapping against your thigh. It’s somewhat surprising that you haven’t worn a path into the floor already, given how long you’ve been doing it.

After some firm encouragement from Ueno, you had taken the day off to get ready for the gala this evening, and, ostensibly, to relax. Unfortunately, you have spent most of the day fretting and trying to keep a limit on the nerves fizzing in your stomach. You feel a little sick with fear and excitement, and are grateful for the constant stream of messages that Izuku has sent you throughout the day, both distracting and reassuring.

Wound up tight, you startle badly when there’s a knock at the door, despite the fact that you were waiting for exactly that. With a disparaging mutter about your lack of self-composure, you quickly march over and whip it open.

“Hi!” Izuku says brightly. Dressed in the suit you had seen in the store, now properly tailored, and with the wildness of his hair somehow looking shinier than ever, he is literally a sight for sore eyes. You find yourself returning his smile by pure reflex, and hook him into a hug before he even has a chance to react.

“Hey,” you mumble into his shoulder. He smells different, but really good, like a subtle and fresh cologne.

Izuku settles his arms around you in a gentle squeeze, then pulls back to peer into your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think I’m just a bit nervous,” you say, in what has to be the biggest understatement of your life. “This is a really big deal, you know?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right with you the whole time! Getting into the building is the scariest bit because of the press, but once you’re inside, it’s basically just a big party, and all my friends will be there with us.” Rubbing your arm briefly, Izuku steps back to look at you properly. “You look absolutely incredible!” He meets your eye with an awed smile, and then flushes deeply. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

You feel your own cheeks burn at the honesty in his expression. “Thank you. You look amazing too, seriously.”

He rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Thanks! To be honest, I feel a million times more confident in my hero costume than dressed like this. I always wish heroes could attend in their costumes, but then I suppose it wouldn’t be very practical for someone like Kacchan, who would end up drinking champagne with two massive gauntlets on.”

The image pulls a snort of laughter out of you, and Izuku beams at having lessened your anxiety, even temporarily. It also doesn’t escape your notice how frequently Izuku uses Bakugou as an example when talking about heroes, and you can’t help but think that his obvious admiration for his childhood friend, even as a grown man, is adorable.

Izuku politely escorts you into the waiting car - black, shiny and very expensive - and as the driver takes you through the city, you find your nerves starting to build again. Palms clammy, you glance at Izuku, using the familiar sight of him as your anchor in this alien situation.

“Hey, Izuku?”

“Yes?”

“Could you talk about something? Anything is fine, it’s just that I think I’ll probably just pass out of existence from sheer stress if I don’t distract myself right now.”

“Of course I can!” Izuku says warmly, and reaches across to take your hand. His calloused fingers close around yours, warm and grounding. Without hesitation, he launches straight into a detailed history of all the hero galas he’s been to.

You latch onto the stream of his words gratefully, nodding to show your interest and occasionally interjecting with a question. Izuku never seems to expect you to respond, but when you do, a small spark of surprised delight runs across his face.

He must be watching you carefully as he talks, because each time the nerves threaten to break through your fragile calm, he rubs his thumb across yours and smiles at you reassuringly. With Izuku’s hand on yours, and his voice in your ears, the rest of the journey passes without incident.

~

The second the car door is opened, you are dazzled. Cameras flash and pop across your vision, arms and microphones leaning over the barriers to call out questions to the well-dressed heroes who walk slowly along the stretch of carpet.

You have an instant of complete, blackout panic, and then your vision is filled with Izuku as he leans down to help you out of the car.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, not a trace of doubt in his voice. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time. This is the scariest bit, remember? So once we’re past this, it’s easy sailing!”

Seeing that you’re still frozen in place, Izuku flashes a laugh to the nearest cameras, making a quick joke about his shoelace being tied wrong, and kneels in front of you, a shield between you and the rest of the world.

“Izuku, there’s so many of them,” you manage in a hoarse whisper. “And I have no idea what I’m meant to say or do!”

“That’s alright,” he says steadily, and you recognise the soothing timbre of his hero voice. “You can leave that all to me, you don’t need to do anything except keep me company, okay? There’s nobody I’d rather have with me.”

Izuku’s eyes are so kind that you wonder faintly how so much goodness can be packed into one person. “Okay,” you agree, and are immediately rewarded by an unrestrained smile.

“Let’s do it together, then,” Izuku says, standing and offering you his arm. “Plus Ultra!”

You splutter a short laugh despite yourself, and Izuku beams at you. Holding tightly onto his arm, you let him lead you forward onto the carpet, already waving and chatting to the nearest press.

“Deku! Deku, over here!”

“Deku, who’s your date? Is this a new hero?”

“Deku, what can you tell us about the recent Grape Juice scandal?”

The questions fly across the carpet, and any time they ask about you, it feels like arrows piercing your lungs. Izuku’s arm tightens over yours, keeping you close to his side as he smiles his way through the commotion.

At one point, he zeroes in on a particular reporter, a woman with sharp eyes and a poised demeanour. She returns his friendly nod with a gracious smile.

“This is Matsuda Ayako, she’s a freelance journalist. Her work is excellent,” Izuku murmurs to you, and you hear the respect in his voice. Knowing Izuku’s absorption of hero coverage, if he respects this woman then she must be something special, you think.

“Deku, nice to see you again,” Matsuda says, her voice low and clear, lacking the shrill excitement of the others. “And I don’t believe your companion has been introduced?”

“It’s nice to see you too, Matsuda! I really enjoyed your recent article about the access to healing quirks in different levels of society, it was really thought-provoking.” Izuku glances at you with an encouraging smile. “And this is my dear friend, who kindly agreed to keep me company tonight!”

Matsuda’s sharp gaze lands on you, and you can feel the analysis even as she nods politely.

“Nice to meet you,” you manage, after clearing your throat awkwardly.

“Likewise. You’re not a hero, I assume, or we would recognise you. Do you work in support, perhaps?” Her tone is interested, rather than judgmental, but you still feel your stomach sink a little.

“N-no, I’m not in the hero business at all, just a normal, civilian person lucky to be here!”

Izuku tightens his arm again, pulling you close, and smiles at Matsuda. “Ah, but there are so many everyday, civilian heroes out in society that don’t get enough credit, don’t you think?”

Matsuda nods graciously. “You and I are in perfect agreement there, Deku. Would you sa-” she’s cut off as a boisterous man wielding a large microphone pushes rudely into her side.

“Deku, did you say that your date tonight is a civilian?! What made you choose that civilian instead of someone at your level? Was it a competition win or something? Tell us more!”

Frowning censoriously, Matsuda snaps at the man to take his turn, but he completely ignores her. You feel Izuku’s muscles tighten under your hand, tension suddenly running through him, though his smile stays in place.

“What do you mean, someone at my level?”

Panic flares up in you at the change in Izuku’s voice, which is now quiet and dangerously sweet.

“Hey, can we move on now?” you mutter, trying to shrink behind him as several more of the press turn to stare at you, attracted by the man’s loud questioning.

The boisterous man sneers derisively in your direction. “C’mon Deku, clearly you can see that you’re leagues above-”

The smile drops off Izuku’s face as he slips out of your arm and lunges forward, gripping the man’s microphone and leaning in to whisper something fiercely into his ear. Next to them, Matsuda is scribbling furiously in a small notebook. Suddenly bereft of the reassuring strength of his presence next to you, you stand frozen and panicking, until a warm hand gently cups your elbow.

“Let’s leave them to deal with that, hm?” a steady voice says in your ear.

“Todoroki? Ah- I mean, Shouto?” You barely remember to address him by his hero name in public, but Todoroki just offers you one of his small smiles, clearly not concerned by your misstep.

“Hello,” he says simply. “Come on, I’ll show you in. Deku will catch up to us shortly, once his reinforcements take over.”

You follow his gaze, and realise that Izuku has been surrounded by Iida on one side, already attracting attention with his bold voice and gestures, and Uraraka on the other, gripping Izuku’s elbow mercilessly as she beams for the cameras. Izuku himself still looks incandescent with rage, but manages to glance over his shoulder to give you a tight smile, and to nod at Todoroki.

“Okay, thanks,” you say to Todoroki, and let him guide you away. He moves gracefully, but doesn’t pause at all as he sweeps along the carpet, long legs eating up the distance until he’s finally ushering you inside.

It’s just as glitzy in the building as out on the red carpet, and you wonder how your life has led you here, to this surreal moment where you have literally stepped into a scene from so many magazines.

Well-dressed staff hover nearby, but it only takes a small gesture from Todoroki for them to give you space. There are other heroes here, though none that you know much about, talking and laughing as they make their way through to the main hall. Todoroki merely returns their greetings and curious glances with a polite nod, and continues guiding you forward.

You risk a look up at him as he leads you, his hand still gentle on your elbow. “Will Izuku be okay out there?” You frown with concern, remembering the shudder of anger that had gone through him, and the way he’d lunged towards the reporter.

“He’ll be fine. It wouldn’t be a red carpet event without some sort of press drama,” Todoroki says calmly, then his mouth lifts in a wry smile. “None of us would have been able to get this far if we weren’t able to shrug off the paparazzi’s idiocy.”

You want to query him more, feeling indescribably dirty at the idea that Izuku might get bad press from having to defend you publicly, but your conversation is cut off as you approach a large set of open doors, flanked by stony-faced security guards. An impeccably dressed usher welcomes you both with a bow, bidding you to follow him to your seats.

As you step through the doorway, you’re momentarily arrested by an explosion of colour and light and sparkle. Round tables are packed into the large space, light glistening off champagne buckets and glasses. Huge flower arrangements take pride of place in the centre of every table. At the end of the room is a large stage, ready for awards and speeches. You've seen celebrity events like this on TV before, but in person it's just so outrageously luxurious that your eyes can hardly comprehend it.

"Holy shit," you manage, not quite under your breath enough, and Todoroki huffs a soft breath of laughter.

The usher brings you to a table, each place labelled with a name printed on thick, creamy cardstock. The table is big, so you can't see all the names, but to your relief, Izuku is directly next to you, and Todoroki sits a couple of spaces down.

"They usually place agencies together," Todoroki explains, seeing your surprise when you note that Uraraka is on your other side.

"Right, makes sense," you answer distractedly. You're having trouble computing all of this when guilt and concern for Izuku are still buzzing inside you. "Um, when do you think the others will be done outside?"

Todoroki purses his lips into a thin line. "I had thought they'd be close behind us already, so I'm honestly not sure." He glances at you, weighing you up. "I can go and check on them, or I can stay with you. Which would you feel most comfortable with?"

"Oh, yes, please go and check on them, I'll be fine!"

"Are you sure? Izuku will potentially murder me for leaving you alone, so it's an important decision." Todoroki's expression is still serious, but his eyes glint with humour, and you chuckle weakly.

"Yeah, I'll be okay. Can't get into any trouble sitting at a table, right?"

Todoroki nods and leaves without further argument, though he makes sure to explain how to summon a member of staff if you need something, and promises to be back soon.

Watching him go, your chest squeezes tight with anxiety. You absolutely don't want to be alone here, where you're so out of place and everything is foreign, but making sure Izuku is okay is more important. Sitting bolt upright, stiff with discomfort, you stare at your hands and hope the whole group of them come soon.

A couple of minutes pass, and then you're startled out of your reverie as a hand lands on your shoulder.

"Oi," Bakugou's rough voice says, leaning in close so as not to be heard above the crowd. "Come on, I need to talk to you."

Heart pounding with the shock of his sudden appearance, you whirl to face him. You don't get to take Bakugou's appearance in much, however, because he's immediately lifting you out of your chair with a firm grip on your arm.

"Oh! Actually, I'm just waiting here for Izuku and the others."

"S'fine, it won't take long. They won't even know you were gone," Bakugou says insistently, though he does let go of you. Then he sighs heavily, looking reluctant. "Please?"

Surprised by this sudden politeness, you nod wordlessly, and follow as he immediately stalks off. With how much time Bakugou has been spending at the children’s home recently, you’ve become fairly comfortable around him, so you don’t feel worried about trusting him with whatever’s happening. Besides, Bakugou may be gruff and sometimes rude, but he’s still a hero, and, more importantly in your eyes, Izuku’s trusted friend.

Halfway across the room, weaving between tables, he gives you a look that makes you feel like a butterfly pinned to a display.

"So, it's fuckin' Izuku now, is it?"

"Yes? I mean, we're quite close, I guess, and-"

Bakugou cuts you off with a loud grunt. "Gross, I don't want the details. Just didn't think the nerd would get his act together so quickly."

You frown, trying to interpret this; although a little shy, Izuku's always been very open with you about your friendship. "What do you mean?"

Bakugou shoots you a sharp glance, and then rolls his eyes. "Don't worry about it, he's just a stupid idiot."

"Right." Thinking you'll never really understand the dynamic between Izuku and Bakugou, you let the strange conversation lapse into silence.

Bakugou takes you out of a side door, and after a couple of turns he's leading you into what appears to be a small supply room, with spare chairs stacked high against the walls. You hesitate in the doorway as he strides in, suddenly uncertain.

"Um, Bakugou?"

He beckons you roughly. "Don't fucking panic, just get in here and close the damn door."

"Babe! I told you to be nice about it!" a new voice cries from inside the room, and you relax a little as you recognise Kirishima’s unmistakable passion.

Following Bakugou inside, you shut the door with a quiet click, and turn to see Kirishima and Bakugou standing side by side, right in front of you. They may be dressed smartly in complementing suits, but even without their hero costumes they have an incredibly strong presence, especially together like this. It would be intimidating, if you hadn't seen both of them making mud pies with Yuki and the little ones not three days ago.

Kirishima gives you a huge, sharp-toothed grin. "Heya! Sorry if Katsuki freaked you out! On second thought, maybe I should've been the one to get you."

"Tch, I wasn't the one who chose the creepiest fucking room in this place."

"But, babe, there's hardly any good private places near the main hall, you know that!" Kirishima whines. As he speaks, you notice that he's sort of fidgeting, shifting his weight from foot to foot and tugging at his shirt collar, as if he's nervous.

Bakugou seems calmer at first glance, but you think his mouth is a little tighter than normal, and even as you watch he rests a supportive hand on the small of Kirishima's back.

"So… Is everything okay?" you ask hesitantly. All your instincts are straining to get back to your seat, where Izuku will find you, but you can't ignore the tension in these two.

"Yeah! Everything's fine!" Kirishima says, voice loud in the small room. "We just, uh." He looks pleadingly at Bakugou, biting his lip.

Bakugou sighs. "We wanna ask you something, and this idiot couldn't wait."

"Babe!"

You smile at them, a little bewildered. "Okay, sure, ask away."

There's a moment's pause, and then Bakugou clears his throat. "So, uh, what's the process or whatever if we want to-"

"We want Yuki!" Kirishima blurts. "We want him! We- we wanna adopt him!"

To your astonished delight, tears shine in Kirishima's eyes as he launches forward to grab your hand.

"Please, you have to help us adopt him! We don't know what we're doing, but we wanna do it all properly, because we love him so much already! Right, Katsuki?"

Bakugou gives Kirishima a look which is endlessly soft. "Right, love." Then he meets your eye, squaring his jaw with a fierce look. "We want the kid. Will you help us?"

Your heart soars, and you manage to choke out a laugh, dashing a couple of your own tears away with the back of your hand. "God, of course I will! I'm so happy, Yuki's going to be so happy!"

Kirishima yelps with joy and engulfs you in a hug. You hear a snort from Bakugou, and then Kirishima is pulling him in as well, crushing the two of you against his broad chest. He's laughing, an infectious rumble that has you grinning madly.

Bakugou allows the hug for a brief moment, and then extracts himself roughly, cheeks flushed. You step back as well, patting yourself back into order - Kirishima's hugs are filled with as much bold energy and enthusiasm as everything else about him, it seems.

"C'mon Ei, we gotta get this one back before Deku throws a fit," Bakugou says, indicating you with a jerk of his head.

"Right!" Kirishima turns to you, still glowing with happiness. "Will you tell us what to do next? For Yuki, I mean? We can't wait for the little man!" He’s practically vibrating on the spot.

"Yes, of course! I'll speak to my colleagues about it tomorrow, and we'll get the process started. Just to warn you, it can take a long time. There'll be a lot of paperwork, and official checks and visits and stuff, but it helps that you know him so well already."

Kirishima nods, expression suddenly uncharacteristically serious. "We're ready for whatever it takes," he states, and Bakugou echoes his nod with a battle-ready grin.

After a small amount of kerfuffle, including a noisy kiss that you suspect Bakugou wishes you weren't witness to, the two heroes escort you back to the main hall.

The tables are filling up now, and chatter fills the air with a hum of excitement. Everywhere you look you see heroes you recognise, and your excitement at Yuki's imminent adoption is dulled a little by a swell of nerves.

Your companions must sense your sudden discomfort, because they move in close, flanking you as you thread your way between the tables, and you feel marginally better with them as a shield between you and all the celebrities you pass. Kirishima is fairly bouncing as he walks, a permanent grin on his face, and even Bakugou is wearing a small, pleased smirk.

When your eyes land on your own table, you let out a silent sigh of relief. They're all there. Todoroki is frowning as he talks with Iida and Uraraka, all three of them gathered around your seat, looking mildly concerned. And next to them is Izuku, standing with his back to you as he listens to Todoroki. You can't see his face, but there's tension in the set of his shoulders.

"Oi, nerd! Got a delivery for you," Bakugou calls, and Izuku spins around instantly.

"Kacchan?!"

The second Izuku's eyes fall on you, his face sags in relief. He closes the few steps between you, pulling you into his arms without hesitation, despite the many eyes watching.

"Oh god, are you alright? I was so worried when Shouto came back out alone, and then we got here and you were gone!" His voice is a rapid whisper, and you barely have time to nod in response. "I'm so sorry we got split up, after I promised to be with you the whole time."

"It's okay, I'm fine," you whisper back, pulling out of the hug to meet his gaze. You keep a hold of his sleeve, a point of connection to reassure you both. "Are you okay, though? After what they said, and-"

Izuku's expression hardens, and he shakes his head to cut you off. "Don't think about that, that doesn't matter now, okay?" He smiles at you, then, and all you can do is smile back and nod agreeably.

"Uh, Midoriya?" At Kirishima's sheepish voice, you both turn to him. "Sorry if we worried you, dude, that was our fault entirely!"

Bakugou says nothing to add to the apology, but you note that he doesn't refute it, either.

"Oh, Kirishima! That's okay, we're all back where we should be now, right?" Izuku says, and Kirishima gives him a cheerful thumbs up.

Izuku's other friends have been quiet so far, still standing by the table and watching, but Iida now steps forward officiously.

"Good evening!" he says with a smile, bowing slightly to you, and nodding to Bakugou and Kirishima. "I'm glad everyone is alright, but I think we all ought to be taking our seats now, there's not long left until the evening begins!"

Bakugou snorts. "Always the class prez," he mutters, then addresses Kirishima while scowling dramatically at everyone else. "C'mon Ei, let's leave the nerds to their table."

"Goodbye Kirishima, Bakugou," Todoroki says, neutral as ever.

Uraraka waves cheerfully. "See you at the afterparty, guys!"

Kirishima just has time to wave back before Bakugou is pulling him away mercilessly, and you see them head towards a table a few spaces down.

Izuku guides you to your seat, not letting you out of arm's reach until you're safely seated next to him. Uraraka presses a glass of champagne into your hand with a little wink as she sits next to you, and you realise you're still clutching Izuku's sleeve in your other hand.

"Ah, sorry!" You smooth the crumpled sleeve with some embarrassment, but Izuku just smiles at you.

He shuffles his chair a little closer, leaning in to talk more easily. "Are you sure you're okay? What did Kacchan and Kirishima want?"

"Yes, I'm fine, I promise! They wanted to talk to me about Yuki…" You hesitate, not sure how much to say with so many people around, even if you are talking softly. "Actually, can I tell you later, when we're somewhere quieter?"

Izuku agrees easily, and you let yourself relax into your seat a little, feeling steadier now that you're back in his presence. You're still worried about what the reporter had said, the words 'leagues above' slowly chewing away at your insides, but you try to push it down to deal with later. There's already plenty to think about in here, with countless heroes around you and Izuku at your side.

It turns out Iida had been right to shoo everyone to their seats, for there's not much time to talk before the evening starts properly.

You sit in your seat, sipping the most expensive drink you've ever tasted, and are completely awe-struck for the next couple of hours. There's lights and music, countless heroes and clips of their awe-inspiring feats, awards and jokes, and heartbreaking calls to aid the evening's charities. Your head spins with it, completely overwhelmed and entirely impressed.

Your heart nearly bursts out of your chest when Izuku is called up, blushing fiercely, to accept an award for his untiring dedication in the aftermath of a typhoon earlier in the year, and when he returns sheepishly to the table, you squeeze his arm in an attempt to convey your pride in him.

He’s not the only one you recognise who is acknowledged during the evening, either. Most, if not all, of Izuku’s friends and classmates are given awards and accolades, whether individual or as part of a team. It’s common knowledge that Izuku and his UA peers are ground-breakingly strong, changing the face of heroics before they’d even reached legal majority, but it is something else entirely to see the results of their efforts and talent for yourself.

Through it all, Izuku checks in with you regularly, nudging your shoulder, brushing your hand, or whispering to you during pauses. The little touches both comfort you and send your head spinning more, the casual, friendly affection making your chest swell. You know logically that he's just making sure you're okay, but your irrational heart still gathers those moments to you like precious treasure.

You clap and laugh and cry along with the rest of the audience, and eventually the evening's official events wind to a close. As the lights whirl up, the room bustles as heroes either disperse to go home, or move on to the afterparty.

Uraraka turns to you with an excited smile. “You’re coming to the afterparty now, right? We have to introduce you to everyone else!”

Izuku leans in to catch your eye. “We don’t have to, I’m happy to leave if you’re tired. It won’t take long to get a car ready to take us home,” he says with a gentle smile, sounding like he means every word.

You’re grateful for the out that Izuku’s offering you, but are also conscious that his friends clearly want him to stay. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that you are tired - this evening has already been mentally exhausting - but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to regret missing out on this opportunity.

“I’m happy to stay, if you are,” you tell Izuku, and Uraraka bounces happily when he agrees.

“This is going to be so much fun!”

Chapter Text

It turns out there’s a sort of press gathering between the main event and the afterparty, where heroes are interviewed more closely for their thoughts on the evening. After a brief discussion with his friends, Izuku turns to you, mouth set with determination.

“I can’t get out of these interviews, it’ll be too noticeable if I’m not there, and will just cause problems in the long run,” he explains, looking like he’d rather do anything else but speak to the press again. “But there’s no reason you should have to come, if you don’t want to.” He pauses long enough for you to indicate your earnest agreement that this is the case. “So instead, we thought one of us could just slip in to the afterparty separately with you!”

“I would like to accompany you, since Izuku has informed me in no uncertain terms that I shouldn’t have left you earlier,” Todoroki says, with an amused glance at Izuku. Then he looks at you soberly, humour slipping away. “And in retrospect, I agree. So maybe you can let me make it up to you this way?”

“There’s nothing to make up for, I told you to go!” you tell him and Izuku both, and then give them a grateful smile. “But that would be good, thank you.”

You do wish you could see what it is like, all those heroes chatting and gossiping to the cameras, but the memory of the red carpet is still too anxiety-inducing to want to face that again. And you absolutely do not want to cause Izuku any more trouble by attracting attention.

Izuku gives you an encouraging smile, promising to meet back with you as quickly as possible, and then he, Uraraka, and Iida head off. Todoroki leads you to a side door, slipping out past staff who nod politely, but don’t intervene.

The party is in the upper levels of the venue, so it doesn’t take long to get there once you’re safely past the press areas. The space here is still huge and glitzy, but much more informal. It seems to be a series of big rooms, all furnished with bars, and a huge balcony terrace space for people to spill out onto. There are tables with seating for groups, but also clusters of sofas and chairs, and you can immediately see at least one dance floor.

People have already begun filling the space, clustering in small groups and flitting through the space to socialise. It’s amazing how well the whole hero community seems to know each other, considering the sheer numbers of people at the gala, but then you figure that knowing each other is all part of the job.

“Ah, Bakugou is here already,” Todoroki murmurs as he scans the room. “No surprise there, he usually tries to keep away from the press as much as possible, unless it’s to brag immediately after a fight.”

Stifling a laugh, you follow him over to where Bakugou is sitting at a table, hunched protectively over a drink as a couple of other people jostle and joke around him. You know them - or rather, you recognise them as heroes, and know that they were in Izuku’s class at UA. Chargebolt, all cheeky smiles with an air of restless energy, is currently trying to swing an arm about Bakugou’s shoulders, while Cellophane, lean and long-limbed, is grinning widely at his friends.

Chargebolt spots your approach first, and bounces out of his seat, shooting a pair of finger guns at you and Todoroki.

“Todoroki! Hey, dude! And you’re Midoriya’s friend, right? Nice to meet you!”

Slightly taken aback - does everyone from Midoriya’s class know about you? - but feeling welcomed nonetheless, you muster up a smile, and introduce yourself properly by name. Chargebolt and Cellophane are friendly guys, it turns out, and easily return the favour, asking you to call them by name, just like all the other heroes you’ve met so far.

“Oh, and this grumpy firecracker is Bakugou,” Kaminari adds with a grin, ducking Bakugou’s casual backhand.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re already well-acquainted, Dunce Face.” Bakugou nods to you, then continues sneering at Kaminari. “You think Deku could meet anyone new without dragging me into it?”

Kaminari pretends to wipe a lamenting tear. “Bro, here I was thinking I was your bestie, meanwhile Midoriya’s got you doing the shovel talk for him.” Before you can even protest that you and Izuku aren’t like that, he shoots you a wink. “Not that he’s got bad taste, mind you!”

Bakugou smacks him in the back of the head without hesitation, completely ignoring his whines. You take the opportunity to glance around, hoping to hide your sudden awkwardness. Todoroki and Sero are already deep in their own conversation, Todoroki nodding along quietly as Sero tells him a story that involves some wild gesticulating and lots of laughing.

Kaminari insists on getting drinks for everyone, and when he comes back from the bar, you’re somewhat intimidated by the number of shot glasses sitting alongside the colourful cocktails on the tray. Seeing the sudden gleam of competitiveness in Bakugou’s eye, though, you push away any trepidation, and delight Kaminari by boldly accepting everything he pushes towards you.

Two shots and a cocktail later, you’re feeling slightly looser than before, cheeks warm and plastered with what is probably a goofy smile. Kaminari and Bakugou have both shed their suit jackets, meanwhile Todoroki and Sero haven’t surfaced from their conversation for several long minutes. Luckily, Kaminari is easy company, leading the conversation and bantering with Bakugou with a seemingly endless supply of buzzing energy.

Despite the enjoyable company, the greater part of your mind is occupied with worrying about Izuku, wherever he and the others are right now. You pray that the press is being nicer than they had been earlier.

“Hey, so um, how long does the interviewing and stuff normally last?” you ask, hoping to sound casual.

Bakugou scowls. “Too fucking long, Eijirou can never stop making friends with the damn reporters.”

“Ahh, shouldn’t be much longer now though!” Kaminari slaps his hand on the table in sudden excitement. “I’ve got it! We should play a game while we wait for everyone, pass the time quicker!”

“No fucking way.”

Kaminari turns expert-level puppy dog eyes on you, and you can’t help but laugh. “Okay, what kind of game?”

It isn’t a game so much as an excuse to dare each other to do silly things, it turns out. Bakugou refuses to take part, but Kaminari seems happy enough with your participation, and a couple of minutes later, you’re giggling helplessly as Kaminari, on your dare, executes a perfect macarena on his own in the middle of the empty dance floor.

“I’ve already got one for you!” Kaminari says the second he returns, flushed with success, and leans in to whisper. “Call Bakugou ‘Kacchan’ for the next ten minutes, without dying!”

You eye him doubtfully, remembering Izuku’s warning the very first time he’d ever spoken about Bakugou, but Kaminari just shrugs smugly. “I’ve done it, so I know it’s possible.”

“Okay then.” You turn to Bakugou, who is currently immersed in reading something on his phone.

“Wait, wait! Hanta, dude, you gotta watch this!” Kaminari crows, finally managing to pull his friend’s attention, along with a curious look from Todoroki.

You square your shoulders and take a deep breath. “Hey, Kacchan? Do you have the time?”

“Yeah, quarter past ten,” Bakugou mutters, without taking his eyes off his phone.

Kaminari shrieks, jumping to his feet and pointing wildly. “Holy! What- Hanta, am I going crazy?!”

“Dude,” Sero whispers, wide-eyed with amazement. “What the fuck?”

Bakugou finally looks up, scowling at Kaminari. “Sit back down, idiot, you’re knocking the table.”

“But I don’t get it, man, you didn’t even try and blow anything up?!”

Bakugou lifts one eyebrow. “Hah? Yeah, this nerd can call me fucking whatever without consequences.” He indicates you with a jerk of his head, and then catches your eye with a vicious grin. “We’ve got an understanding, right?”

“Right!” you say happily, thinking of Yuki. You’re desperately hoping that it really is okay to tell Izuku about the adoption because there’s no way you can not tell him about this exchange.

Sero and Kaminari stare at you with matching expressions of mingled respect and bewilderment. For his part, Todoroki slides a glance between you and Bakugou, eyes narrowing as if calculating possible theories for this sudden alliance, but when he looks at you, silently questioning, you just shrug slightly.

The party has been slowly filling up, and once Kaminari gets over his shock, he somehow manages to persuade you to join Sero and him on the dance floor for a bit. By this point of the evening, you’re just happy to fill the time while you wait for Izuku, hoping the minutes will stop dragging, so any distraction is a good one.

“Don’t worry dude, Midoriya will be here soon, for sure!” Kaminari says to you at one point, catching you mid-glance at the doorway.

“Yeah, Midoriya’s like, the most reliable person,” Sero adds, then looks thoughtful. “Except when it comes to his bones. Not so great with them.”

This is an in-joke you’ve heard many times before from Izuku’s friends, so you join them as they snicker, and the three of you giggle as you dance your way through the next track. Feeling a little light-headed from the heat and laughter, you’re leaning against Kaminari’s shoulder when you feel a firm hand wrap around your waist. Startled, you look straight up into Izuku’s eyes.

“Hi!” you say delightedly. “There you are.”

“Yep. And here you are,” Izuku says with a smile, pulling you gently off Kaminari and tucking you into his own side, arm around your shoulders. This new position means you can’t see Izuku’s face anymore, but you’re just happy to be close to him. “Hey, Kaminari. Having a good time?”

Kaminari laughs, a weirdly high-pitched sound, and his eyes dart between you and Izuku. “Yeah man, we’re all just dancing as friends, y’know? It’s a good time, aha!”

Sero snorts loudly, but it’s cut off in a choke when Todoroki suddenly materialises next to him. He’s shed his suit jacket in favour of just his white dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves and open at the collar. His long hair has been partly let down from it’s updo, spilling down his shoulders and reflecting the colourful lights in two different tones.

“Damn!” Kaminari cries. “When did Todoroki turn from a prince-type into a sex god?!”

Sero scowls at his friend, and you feel a laugh vibrate through Midoriya.

“I’m not a sex god,” Todoroki says, looking slightly confused. “Or a prince, for that matter. I mean, I have a huge scar.”

Tuning out Sero’s many and vehement protests, you turn to look at Izuku properly, maneuvering with a selfish care so that his arm stays about your shoulders. He smiles at you, green eyes warm with amusement, and your heart skips. Yeah, it’s just as you’d thought - Todoroki might be a prince-type, but only Izuku has the sweetness of a smile that could break hearts without even knowing it.

“Do you want to stay and dance for a bit?” you say impulsively. You’ve already been dancing with two people you’ve only just met, after all, so you figure you’re brave enough tonight to dance with Izuku, too.

It’s hard to tell under the lights, but you think Izuku blushes as he agrees. Todoroki joins the group too, though Kaminari excuses himself with a proclamation of needing more drinks. He throws Izuku an odd, shaky grin as he leaves, and you wonder whether you should ask Izuku about it later, but push it to the back of your mind to enjoy the moment more.

Sero has a fluid, easy sense of rhythm, and seems to be coaching Todoroki into trying to let loose a little, his broad grin never fading. In contrast, you’re not much for dancing, and neither is Izuku, it seems, so you spend most of the time laughing at each other’s attempts.

The dance floor fills up quickly, but Izuku stays close to you, steadying you with a hand on your shoulder or waist when you get bumped, or sliding his body between you and the crowd. Even as you’re laughing, every touch feels like a hot brand on your body, and you feel your heart pounding with the music and Izuku’s sheer proximity. He’s gorgeous like this, freckles highlighted in the colourful lights, and laughter shining from the planes of his face. It would barely take any movement at all to close the scant distance between you, to press your lips to his and taste his beautiful smile.

Your face burns as the thought of kissing Izuku suddenly screams through your mind like a siren, flooding your thoughts until you feel stupid and incoherent with it. Tearing your gaze away from his face, you let out a shaky breath.

Apparently noticing your sudden change in expression, Izuku leans in close so his words aren’t lost to the music.

“Are you alright?” His lips brush your temple slightly, and you repress a shiver.

“Yeah, fine! Need a break, I think. I’m going to find the bathroom, and then maybe sit down for a bit.”

Izuku nods earnestly. “I’ll meet you back at Kacchan’s table!”

Flashing him a smile and a nod of agreement, you make your escape. Luckily, your body takes you through the motions of finding a bathroom, since at this point it feels like your brain has just completely shut down. Once you’re finally alone in a cubicle, you smack yourself in the forehead.

It’s so dumb, you think. You’d spent half the evening worried about Izuku, every second dragging as you waited for him to find you, and now that he’s here, you’re literally running away from him.

Deciding that you need to just cool down for a bit, you finish up in the bathroom, so distracted you don’t even feel shy in front of the heroes at the row of sinks, and slip across the main room to the patio balcony. The party is busy, so Izuku won’t miss you for a couple of minutes yet.

The night breeze is cool on your skin, still sticky and humid from the dance floor, and you take several gulping breaths of sweet, fresh air. It’s a little quieter out here, and you manage to find a small bench, tucked away behind some large planters. This whole venue is so beautifully designed - even the patio, a simple area, is deceptively well laid out, with little pockets of privacy interspersed throughout the socialising space.

Wanting to give your thoughts time to arrange themselves into some semblance of calm, you pull out your phone as a distraction. There’s a couple of messages waiting for you, and you thumb through them with idle curiosity.

Inaba [08:07pm]
I managed to stop the kids from watching the red carpet arrivals… you can thank me later ;) Oh, also, a letter came for you. It must’ve been hand delivered, to arrive at this time of night, so figured you should know asap in case it’s important? I left it in the office for you.

Kirishima [09:24pm]
I forgot to say earlier, its totally cool if you wanna tell Mido about Yuki!!! He knows Yuki already, and Im gonna tell everyone as soon as Kats lets me anyway!!

Unknown [11:11pm]
I’ll be seeing you soon. C.

You don’t bother replying to Inaba’s message, knowing that he won’t be expecting you to anyway, but you do make sure to thank Kirishima for his message - you’ve been bursting to tell Izuku about the adoption ever since they told you. You don’t recognise the final sender, so assume it is a wrong number and swipe the notification away, already forgotten.

After your messages, you try to scroll through some general news feeds, but it only takes a minute before you close them, heart pounding all over again. You should have expected it, but it is still a shock to see pictures of yourself amongst the gala coverage. There’s only a couple of shots, you and Izuku standing arm in arm, and then Todoroki leading you away, and most of the others are filled with Izuku and his friends - the heroes that people actually want to hear about.

It’s enough to bring back your sick feeling of guilt from the start of the night, though, and you wish you hadn’t bothered looking.

You’ve known from the beginning that Izuku and his friends are on a whole different level to you, so it’s not like it’s a new idea, but you hate that it might cause Izuku problems. The reporter from earlier is the perfect example - if you hadn’t been there, Izuku wouldn’t have needed to defend you, and risk his own reputation while doing so.

Letting your head fall back against the bench, you stare up at the night sky. There’s too much cloud cover and light pollution for any real stars to show, but it’s still nice to let your gaze drift out across the dark expanse. Any tipsiness has worn off long ago, so all that makes your head spin now is just sheer tiredness.

You’ll go back inside soon, once the night air has cooled your thoughts of Izuku, and once you’ve remembered how to not think about kissing him.

~

Izuku knows that leaving you with Shouto and going to the interviews alone is the best way to look after you right now, but that doesn’t make walking away any easier. He lets Tenya’s long legs set the pace, striding toward the press areas without hesitation as Uraraka breaks into a half-jog to keep up. The sooner they get this part over with, the better; Izuku doesn’t think he’ll be able to relax until you’re safely back in his sights, not after what happened earlier.

“Are you alright, Izuku? That’s quite a frown you’ve got there.”

“Yeah, Tenya’s right, you need to summon up your All Might smile from somewhere, Deku, or they’re gonna eat you alive!”

Izuku looks at his friends, startled. He must have been more obvious about his thoughts than he’d realised.

“Ah, sorry! I’m fine, still just angry about earlier, I guess,” he says with a sigh. It’s not a lie - when Izuku thinks about it, about the way you had flinched and shrunk behind him, as if that man’s sneering words had hit you like a physical weapon, the rage boils up in him like hot, all-consuming lava.

“Me too.” Uraraka says, clenching her fists in solidarity. “Poor Cake! Honestly, I almost let you clock that guy except for the fact that Matsuda was there and I’d rather her coverage be sympathetic to you.”

Tenya frowns. “It is completely unacceptable for that kind of discriminatory rhetoric to be directed at any civilian, let alone such a good person. I think I told you already, but I noted down his press ID so we can put in a formal complaint to his employer.”

“Thanks guys,” Izuku says, making sure to lower his voice as they near the crowds and cameras. “The thing is, I don’t know that they’ll take it seriously. He didn’t really say that much, when you get down to it, it was just that one question and then I stopped him from saying anything else. It was more of a hurtful implication than a direct insult.”

Uraraka makes a noise of frustration in her throat. “You’re probably right. It’s really shitty - the kind of barb that hurts, but he can’t get in trouble for.”

Izuku grits his teeth. “Exactly.” The insinuation that you are anything less than incredible makes One for All buzz in his bones, eager to thrum to life and take action.

“What can we do to help, Izuku?” Tenya asks quietly, as they close in on the press area.

“Just keep up with the cheerful distraction, if you don’t mind. I want to go and talk to Matsuda, I have an idea I think she’ll appreciate.”

Izuku’s friends nod firmly, needing no further direction, and he flashes them a grateful smile. They really do have each other’s backs.

They wend their way through the crowd, posing for photos and making small talk about their various awards and the evening so far. After a little while, Izuku spots Matsuda sitting over to one side, writing in her notebook, and taps his friends surreptitiously on their shoulders. At their querying glances, he nods to Matsuda, and they immediately close ranks in front of him, Uraraka making a cute joke to the camera as Izuku slips away.

“Hello again, Matsuda.”

Matsuda looks up at his greeting and smiles briefly. “Ah, Deku. I was wondering if you’d want to talk, we didn’t get to finish our conversation earlier.” She purses her lips disapprovingly, darting a glance over to the more rowdy paparazzi.

“You read my mind,” Izuku tells her eagerly, taking a seat next to her at her silent invitation. “I don’t know how open you are to article suggestions, so please let me know if I should do this through another channel, but I have some thoughts that I would trust your pen with, and not many others here.”

Matsuda’s eyes light up with interest, and she leans forward keenly. “I can’t promise I will write what you ask, but I will certainly listen to anything you’d like to tell me.” She pulls a small recorder from her pocket, laying it on the chair arm between them, then raises an eyebrow. “Do you mind?”

“No, of course not!” Izuku feels a flutter of excitement go through him now, hoping that this plan will make some kind of a difference, at least.

“Then I’m listening, Deku.”

So Izuku talks. The words spill out of him without hesitation; these are not new thoughts, in fact, they’ve been whirling around in him ever since he’d met you that day in the museum. He can’t count the number of evenings he’s spent muttering to himself in the shower about this, wondering what to do with these ideas.

First, he tells Matsuda about what he thinks of as civilian heroes - people who put good into the world just by living their lives, working hard to right the small wrongs in society in their own way.

Izuku knows there are thousands of people like this, but the one person he thinks of as he talks is you, striving to give the children in your care the love and support you never quite had, never being held back by your own disadvantage, and instead pushing to alleviate it for others. His heart soars just thinking about your inherent goodness.

Then he tells Matsuda that the focus on Pro Heroes and their quirks and achievements has left whole pockets of society to be forgotten. His example is, of course, what you had told him right at the beginning - about the stigma still remaining around adoption and fostering, how the children’s care system is sadly underfunded, and how quirk prejudice affects children right from the moment they are born.

Izuku knows he is rambling, knows that there are too many words running out of his mouth for the points that he is trying to make, but Matsuda never loses her focus on what he’s saying. Her eyes are sharp as she makes notes, looking up at him occasionally to hum or nod her understanding, or to interject with a smart query.

“Of course, these issues are far more complex than I can go into, or really understand without more research,” Izuku hastens to emphasise, as his ideas start to trail off. “What I really want for now is to start a conversation, and then maybe look into concrete ways we can make changes.”

Matsuda nods thoughtfully, tapping her pen to her lip. “It takes more than awareness to bring about real change, but it certainly makes a good start.”

Izuku feels a spark of excitement at this implicit agreement. “You really think so?”

“Deku,” Matsuda graces him with a small, amused smile. “I wouldn’t be a journalist if I didn’t believe in the power of words.” She snaps her notebook closed, and gathers her recorder. “I think we’ve spent as much time on this as we can here and now, but I would be willing to contact your agency to arrange a more in depth discussion, if you would like? This all ties in very nicely to my recent series.”

“Yes! Yes, please, I’d love that.” Izuku pats at his pockets, suddenly flustered, and finally unearths a business card from his wallet. “Please, call the agency any time.”

“I will.” She gives him a smile that suddenly warms her sharp eyes. “And don’t worry, Deku, my coverage of the gala will only criticise those who deserve it, not you or your companion tonight.”

Izuku grins back at her, dropping into a bow as best he can while seated. “Thank you so much. Take care, Matsuda!”

At her nod, Izuku leaves quickly, darting for the shelter of a nearby hallway before he can be caught by anyone else. Talking to Matsuda had helped relieve his rage, knowing that he could counteract the press from the inside, but it had done nothing to relieve the tightness in his chest at being away from you.

Making his way up to the afterparty, he feels a little guilty for not waiting for Uraraka and Tenya, but not guilty enough to go back. From the moment he’d picked you up, Izuku hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you. You look so gorgeous in your outfit tonight, that green like a label telling Izuku’s heart that you belong to him, and making him have to push away waves of sweet possessiveness he hadn’t even known he was capable of. The urge to protect, to hold you close and cherish you, was always strong, but had flashed to overwhelming the instant the red carpet had turned on you.

It was like a switch had flipped, instantly setting fire to his resolve to forget his feelings for you. Izuku felt like he was burning up inside. How could he shrug this feeling off as something to be forgotten for the sake of friendship, when it shook him to his core?

Izuku flushes hot as he remembers how he’d barely been able to keep his hands off you all through the evening, needing to touch and feel you there safe beside him, and just wanting - wanting so much to give you the affection that he was barely holding back, that you so deserved.

“Get it together, Izuku,” he whispers to himself, running a hand through his hair as he approaches the swell of music and chatter.

It’s busy up here, and for a moment, Izuku panics, wondering how he’ll ever find you before the night is over. Then he spots Shouto’s unmistakeable hair across the room, and hurries over with a grateful sigh.

Kacchan and Shouto are both at the table, chatting idly. There’s a collection of empty glasses littering the table, but Izuku doesn’t see you anywhere.

“Oh, hello Izuku,” Shouto says, giving him a small, lopsided smile that suggests that several of those empty drinks were his. He’s looking rather dishevelled, in what Izuku thinks is an unfairly attractive manner.

Kacchan lounges back in his seat, lifting his drink with a vicious grin. “Come for another rematch, Deku?”

Izuku ignores the taunt, focusing on Shouto instead. “Shouto, I thought you were going to stick together this time?” He’s trying to sound calm, but the words are tight and exasperated as they leave him.

Shouto’s eyes widen slightly. “Izuku, I didn’t make the same mistake, you know you can trust me.”

“Ease up nerd, your precious cargo is right over there with Pikachu and Soy Sauce Face,” Kacchan drawls, and points directly into the center of the dance floor.

“Oh! Sorry, Shouto,” Izuku says, already spinning to scan the mass of people for you.

Shouto murmurs something in return, but Izuku doesn’t hear it, all his attention zeroing in on you.

You’re dancing, carefree and laughing, with a flush across your cheeks that Izuku wants to press the palms of his hands against. And, god, Izuku had been trying so hard to get his thoughts together, but they all fall into chaos again, turning bright and colourful at the sight of you.

The tightness in his chest had eased a little upon seeing that you’re safe and happy, but it winds back up again the next instant as Izuku watches you lean against Kaminari. He knows his friend wouldn’t do anything inappropriate, he knows that, but Kaminari has always been such a flirt, always so charming and silly and pretty, so that people fall just a little bit in love with him so easily.

And as you slump a little against him, looking tired but happy, Kaminari steadies you with one hand, and all Izuku can feel is jealousy, stabbing through him right to his toes.

“Damn, Deku,” Kacchan says, with a low laugh. “If you’re gonna murder Dunce Face, make sure to do it where I can watch, yeah?”

Izuku flushes, knowing he’s been caught. “Kacchan! I’m not-”

“C’mon, Izuku,” Shouto interrupts, pushing himself to his feet. “You’ll feel better if we go over there. They’re just dancing, so why don’t we dance, too?”

“Yeah, okay, you’re right.” Izuku takes a breath, letting his friend’s calm extend into himself. “Let’s go dance!”

Izuku isn’t one to hold grudges, and by the time he reaches you and hears your laughter mingled in with the other two’s, the jealousy has mostly subsided. But he still can’t help himself from pulling you gently off Kaminari and wrapping a possessive arm around you. He feels a small spark of nasty satisfaction at Kaminari’s nervous laughter, his golden eyes wide and a little panicked upon seeing Izuku’s expression.

But then Izuku meets your gaze, and you smile so easily and joyfully at him that he can’t hold onto anything other than a heart-pounding happiness.

Izuku agrees to dance without question - he would agree to anything you asked of him, really, but the chance to be close to you thrills him. So he dances and laughs with you, forgetting that his other friends even exist.

And Shouto was right, of course, Izuku does feel better. He feels so much better than he could ever have imagined, dancing with you, every point of contact both a reassurance and a fan to the flames lighting him up inside.

Eventually you excuse yourself for a break, and Izuku returns to Kacchan, who is now leaning on Kirishima’s shoulder.

Kirishima gives him a big grin and a wave, ignoring Kacchan’s curses as he’s jostled. “Hey, Midoriya!”

“Feel better, nerd?” Kacchan gives him a knowing look, raising one eyebrow, and Izuku feels his heart come crashing down into the pit of his stomach.

“No,” he groans, dropping gracelessly into a seat. “I mean, yes, but also no. I don’t know what to do. Kacchan, help me!”

They both ignore poor Kirishima’s bewildered look of concern, and Kacchan fixes Izuku with a red-eyed glare. Sometimes the only thing Izuku wants is the safety of talking to Kacchan, who still knows him better than anyone, even now.

“Not my fucking problem, Deku. I just go for what I want, you know that.” Kacchan hooks a hand into Kirishima’s bright hair, holding on firmly and ignoring the kiss on the cheek it earns him. “See? Can’t help you if you won’t even help yourself, idiot.”

Izuku rubs a hand across his face. He knows Kacchan is right - to get what he really wants, he needs to be brave - but he’s still so scared of hurting you. He thought had been doing alright, following through on his determination to support you as a friend, but being around you tonight has catapulted all of Izuku’s logical thoughts out the window, and all that is left is a hotbed of feelings.

Kacchan doesn’t say anything else, instead losing himself in a murmured conversation with Kirishima, the two of them in their own little world.

Izuku sits quietly, and when you still don’t return to the table, he begins to get worried. Too much of this whole evening has been spent apart from you, when he’d promised to stick by your side the whole time. Impatience vibrates through him.

“I’m going to have a look around,” he tells his friends, already halfway to his feet.

“Alright man, see you later!”

Kacchan fixes him with another burning glare. “Oi, remember what I said. If you want something, you gotta fucking reach out for it, nerd.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Kacchan.” Izuku smiles at him, then leaves them to each other.

Kacchan’s words ring in his ears as he searches the room for you. If he wants something, Izuku has to reach out for it.

If Izuku reaches out for you, will you reach back? Or will he be dropping you both down a hole you can’t climb out of?

Chapter Text

“Hey.”

You recognise Izuku’s voice instantly just from that one quiet word, and sit up properly to greet him. He’s smiling down at you, though there’s a slight pinch in his brow that suggests concern.

“Hi! Sorry, were you looking for me? I just wanted a bit of air before I came back in, hope I didn’t worry you?”

“No, you’re okay! Can I sit with you?” Izuku looks hesitant as he asks, as if perfectly willing to leave you alone if you wished it.

“I’d love that,” you tell him honestly. “Are you sure you won’t be missing the party, though? I’m pretty sure I heard someone say Present Mic was insisting on taking over the music.” If your head wasn’t so stuffed full of thoughts, that might have tempted you to go back inside yourself.

The bench isn’t huge, so he sits close to you, and you can feel the warmth radiating off him, in sharp contrast to the cool night air.

“I’m sure,” Izuku says with a sheepish grin. “To be honest, spending time with you is the best part, anyway.”

“You just like laughing at my bad dance moves,” you tell him with a mock pout, and his grin widens.

“Yep, sure do! But I’ve got you beat for bad dancing-” You open your mouth to argue, and Izuku’s eyes flash playfully. “- and don’t even think about denying it, because I’m hugely competitive and will show you some terrible moves right here until you agree with me!”

Laughter bubbles out of you effortlessly. “Okay, okay, you win! Honestly, I think heroes are the most competitive breed of human I’ve ever met.”

“To be fair,” Izuku muses. “A large proportion of the heroes you know is just me and Kacchan, so that kind of skews the statistics a bit.”

“Oh!” You sit bolt upright, clutching at Izuku’s arm with your sudden excitement. “That reminds me, I can tell you now. You know how I said Bakugou and Kirishima wanted to talk to me about Yuki earlier?” Izuku nods, eyes wide and intent, already caught up in your eagerness. “Well… it’s because they want to adopt him!”

Izuku stares at you for a second as he computes this, and then he gasps, free hand flying up to cover his mouth. His eyes shimmer damply. “Oh my god, that’s amazing! I knew they were thinking about it, obviously, but I didn’t think it would happen so quickly - and Yuki, oh gosh, he’s such a good kid, he deserves this!”

You feel a lump rising in your throat, gratified by Izuku’s excitement, which almost matches your own. “He really does. God, it makes me so happy knowing that he’s going to get a real family, someone to love him and really be there for him. He’s still young, so it’s not too late for him to have a solid, happy childhood, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Izuku says quietly, and his expression is compassionate as he holds your gaze. He reaches out and takes your hand in his, rubbing your cold fingers gently. “Hey, you do know that this is all thanks to you, right? Yuki and Kirishima and Kacchan, I mean. You brought them together, and gave them the chance to get to know each other. So in a way, Yuki’s chance at a family is because of you. You’ve changed all of their lives for the better.”

You gaze at him wordlessly, at the sincerity in his eyes and smile. How is it possible that someone so good has landed in your life, to gift you with words that somehow soothe the lifelong ache of loneliness in you?

“Thank you,” you manage eventually. “Thank you, Izuku. That means a lot to me."

"Just making sure you know the truth as I see it," he says, and you squeeze his hand gratefully.

You wonder idly whether this is normal - do other grown adults hold their friend's hands? - but drop the thought without worrying too much. It probably doesn't matter what’s normal, when it feels so right and comfortable.

"And you know the best part?"

Izuku tilts his head curiously. "What?"

You give him a cheeky grin. "I now seem to have some kind of Bakugou immunity. Kaminari dared me to call him Kacchan, and not only did he not murder me on the spot, but he actually kind of smiled at me like we were allies! Sero and Kaminari just about had twin heart attacks."

Izuku’s laugh fills the air and your heart all at once. "I knew he liked you!" he says, eyes still sparkling with humour. "Kacchan is rough, but if you can earn his respect then you're pretty much on his good side for life."

"D'you think he'd let me call him Kacchan and live when he's not high on happiness from an impending adoption?"

"Only one way to find out," Izuku says, and pulls a face of sheer terror that has you giggling helplessly.

The conversation lapses into a comfortable quiet for a while. Izuku is still holding your hand, warming your cold skin with his palms. You let your mind drift over the events of the evening so far.

"I didn't get a chance to ask you how the interviews and everything went," you realise aloud, shooting Izuku a querying glance. "Was it okay?"

Izuku smiles grimly. "Oh, it was more than okay. Matsuda and I had a very nice long chat. She's an excellent journalist."

You don't know exactly what this means, but Izuku seems satisfied, and that's what matters most.

"I'm glad," you say, feeling a little stiff at this next topic, but knowing you have to address it for your peace of mind. "Izuku, about what happened on the red carpet, I'm really sorry that you had to-"

"What? No!" Izuku looks at you, aghast, and clutches your hand tight. "What that man said is entirely on him, you have nothing to apologise for! I should have expected something like that, but I didn't, and that's my fault for not protecting you properly."

"No, Izuku, it's okay. You have nothing to apologise for either. You went above and beyond to defend me!" You sigh heavily, finally unearthing what's been digging at you all night. "I hate the idea that you might get bad press because of me. It's not fair on you when you've worked so hard and earned your reputation as a hero. I hate it!"

Izuku stares wordlessly at you for a moment, and then to your surprise he laughs softly. "I guess we're both trying to protect each other, huh?" You share a smile, and then Izuku sighs noisily. "I do wish I'd been allowed to punch that guy for what he said, though. I’m pretty sure Uraraka gave me bruises from holding my arm so tightly."

"Izuku!" you protest through a laugh, and he grins at you, unrepentant. "That definitely wouldn't be good for your reputation. Anyway, it's not like he didn't have a point."

"What?"

You stare at the sudden ferocity in Izuku's expression, startled by the switch in emotions. "I mean, you're a Pro Hero, Izuku. Obviously you and your friends are leagues above me. Just look at tonight, all the awards and everything, you're all incredible! Someone like me doesn't really belong here, I'm just a guest in this world." You keep your voice casual, just stating the facts you've known all along, even though they sting.

But Izuku doesn't look casual at all, and his eyes blaze with a green fire. His smile is gone, his brows knitted together. He squeezes your hand, just on the edge of too hard. "That's not true, none of it. Don't- please, don't ever think that about yourself, you can't belittle yourself like that! You're incredible, and you're just as worthy of respect as any of us." He searches your face, a little desperate now. "You know that, right? Heroes are just people, and we're all just as flawed as everyone else. Awards and everything else mean nothing, it's just pomp for the media to enjoy. What matters is people, and you're one of the most amazing people I've ever met."

Your casual facade is gone now, crushed under the weight of Izuku's passion.

"I-” You swallow hard. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say that you believe me, and that you’ll forget you even considered you might not be our equal,” Izuku urges.

You flounder, wondering if it’s even possible to shed a line of thought that quickly. And yet when Izuku is looking at you like this, all fire and determination, it’s impossible to deny him anything.

“I’ll try. I promise I’ll try,” you say, and Izuku rewards you with a smile that’s so warm it makes you forget the cold breeze. “I’m sorry for always making you boost my confidence, it’s just hard when I’m not used to being around such powerful people, you know? Especially being quirkless. I know I shouldn’t care, but it’s hard not to when everyone’s so far ahead of me.”

Izuku loosens his tight grip on your hand, stroking a light apology with his thumb. He seems to hesitate for a moment, ducking his head a little and taking a deep breath before he looks up at you again.

“Do you remember me telling you how my quirk didn’t come in until I was a teenager?”

You frown, a little confused by this tangent. “Yes, of course. You thought you were quirkless for a long time.”

Izuku bites his lip. “Well, I didn’t tell you the whole truth. Not that I wanted to lie to you!” he adds hurriedly, catching your eye to show his sincerity. “But it’s kind of… well, hopefully you’ll understand why when I tell you. Very few people know the truth of this.”

“If it’s a secret or something, you don’t have to tell me.”

Izuku smiles at you, slow and appreciative. “I know. But I want to. I want to tell you everything, because then you’ll see that we’re more alike than you know right now.” He settles back on the bench, pressing a warm shoulder against yours, still stroking his thumb over your hand. “Let me start with this - I didn’t think I was quirkless, I was quirkless...”

You listen as Izuku unfolds his story, about All Might and One for All, the quirk he had inherited, had learned to wield over time. He doesn’t hold back on details, and as you listen, all the hairs on your body stand on end, awed by the sheer amount of trust he is displaying by laying these secrets in your lap.

When he finishes, you give his hand a squeeze. “Thank you,” you tell him, hoping he can hear the awe in your voice. “God, thank you for trusting me, Izuku. You’ve been through so much, it doesn’t even sound real. No wonder you and All Might are so close, it makes so much more sense now. I swear I won’t tell anyone, you can trust me.”

“I know I can,” Izuku says softly, and then gives you a fierce look. “But do you see now, how we’re the same? I was truly quirkless, and even Kacchan believed I was little better than a worm. But none of that mattered because All Might saw something in me that he believed in. Just like I see something in you that I believe in. It’s not about quirks, or your social class, or what job you do, it’s about the goodness of your heart. And your heart is so good. You belong in this world just as much as I do.”

Suddenly the night air is stuck in your throat, and you can only nod wordlessly. You do see what he means, and endless gratitude wells up in you, a pool of strength you know you can pull on without hesitation.

You take a long moment to breathe, and Izuku sits quietly with you, sensing that you’re taking in the weight of his words.

“So, I do have one question,” you say finally. “Why the hell did All Might make you swallow a whole strand of hair? Surely a small piece would’ve been enough? There’s no way I would have got that down my throat!”

Izuku stares at you, and then you both burst into laughter, a sweet and free release that has you leaning against him.

When the laughter fades, you find yourself staring at the sky again, astonished by how happy you feel.

“God, Izuku,” you hear yourself murmur. “I don’t know what I’d do without you anymore. You’re such a good friend to me."

Izuku’s hand tightens over yours convulsively, and you’re horrified when his expression suddenly crumples into something pained. He looks away from you, staring at the floor as if gathering strength.

"Ah, fuck," he whispers, and you're instantly terrified.

"Izuku?"

"I'm so sorry, I can't… I can't do this anymore. I need to tell you." Izuku's voice is shaking now, every word stabbing you like a knife. "I've broken my promise to you."

"What?" You slip your fingers out of his hold, wrapping your arms around yourself. Your thoughts stutter, trying to keep up with the whiplash of this sudden turn. You don’t understand what’s happening.

He had promised he wasn't going anywhere, that he would cherish your friendship. What went wrong, and why now, so quickly? You know you shouldn’t panic yet, should hear him out before jumping to conclusions, but the fear is already shivering along your limbs like a prickling numbness, stealing your breath.

"I'm so sorry, I just-" He swallows hard. "I can't, um-"

"Izuku," you say, and it's more like a gasp than a word. "You need to start making sense, right now. You know what this means to me - if you want out, say it quickly, please." Desperation makes your voice tremble on the final words. If Izuku is leaving this friendship - because that’s what he’s saying, isn’t it? - you're going to crumble, and you need him to do you the mercy of making it fast.

Izuku makes a strangled noise, head whipping up. "Oh god, oh no, no, it's okay!" he babbles, hands flying up to catch your cold face. "That’s not what I- I'm not going anywhere, I'd never leave you, not while you still want me around, I swear! And maybe not even then."

His thumbs stroke your cheeks, once again warming your chilled skin, and you close your eyes briefly under the force of your relief and the fear that still hasn't quite abated. Izuku holds you so gently, calloused palms scratching pleasantly against your cheeks. He’s so warm, he’s always so warm.

"What, then? What's the matter?" You look at him pleadingly. "I don’t understand. You said that you can't - can't what? How else could you break your promise other than by leaving?"

Your voice catches despite your best efforts, and you feel Izuku's hands trembling. His eyes are wide, almost as terrified as your own, and heartbreakingly beautiful. He takes a long, shaky breath.

"I'm so sorry for scaring you,” Izuku says, voice dropping soft and low. He shuffles closer to you, pressing your knees together. “I’ve messed this up so badly. First, let me make this very, very clear. I’m not leaving you, and I don’t plan to. You have me for as long as you want me, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, and although you’re still prickling with the need for answers, you do feel steadier. You relax into his touch, leaning into the warmth and strength of his hands with a small sigh. “What did you mean, then?”

Izuku’s gaze is filled with something outrageously tender, flickering across your face as if trying to gauge your understanding of his next words. “I meant that I’ve broken my promise to treasure our friendship, not because I don’t want it anymore, but because I want more.”

It feels like your brain has whited out. You’re teetering on the knife edge of hope and despair, too terrified to think in case you fall on the wrong side.

“More?” you whisper, transfixed by his expression.

Izuku nods minutely. “More. Like right now, for instance,” he murmurs, delicately tracing the line of your cheekbones. “I want to make sure you believe, like you believe the sun rises everyday, that I’ll never leave you. I want to tell you how I treasure you so much more than a friend should. I want to keep looking at you and never stop. You’re so beautiful.”

His thumb trails to the corner of your mouth, and his breath hitches. “And I want to kiss you.”

You think you may have stopped breathing.

“I was trying so hard to protect our friendship, even from my own feelings, because I know how important it is for you to have a sense of security, especially after you trusted me with your story, and-”

“Izuku.”

He stops instantly, chest heaving, and this time it’s his turn to look transfixed by your expression. Your hands drift up, fastening onto his wrists where he’s still cupping your face. His pulse races under your fingertips, hot and trembling, and it instantly electrifies every single nerve in your body. Your eyes catch on his, then on his freckles, then on his lips.

“I want to kiss you too,” you mumble. “Can I?”

“Oh god, please,” Izuku whispers hoarsely.

You lean forward, heart thumping. Izuku is quivering, shaking with the effort of holding still as you inch closer. You see his eyelids flutter closed, see the pulse in his throat jumping, and then feel the hot puff of his breath on your lips. You cling to his wrists, feeling you might float away without him to anchor you.

Your lips brush, a gentle touch, barely there. Izuku makes a small, desperate noise that shoots through your body like lightning. And then, finally, oh, finally, you kiss him.

Izuku’s lips are warm and chapped, and so achingly tender as he tilts his head slightly, changing the angle of the kiss so your mouths fit together deliciously, drawing a small gasp out of you. He kisses you like you’re the most precious thing in the world, and you’re dizzy with joy, delirious with pleasure. He strokes your cheeks, cradles your face, cups the nape of your neck, and you let your own hands slip down his forearms to tangle your fingers in his shirt.

You pull back, just bare millimetres, and Izuku chases your lips with a soft sound of protest that has you pressing back in for another kiss, and another, until your head is spinning with his taste and touch.

Overcome, you finally pull away, dropping your forehead onto his shoulder with a tremulous breath of laughter. Izuku gathers you in close, resting his cheek against your head and murmuring your name with wonder. He feels so good, so strong and safe, and he’s running his hand up and down your spine, as if he can’t stop touching you now that he’s started.

“Izuku,” you whisper against him, threading your arms around his back. “I want more, too.”

His breath catches, and you feel him shift against you, but before he can say anything, there’s a clatter of feet.

“Deku, thank god I found you!” Uraraka’s voice rings out, shattering the delicacy of the moment, and then you hear her gasp loudly. “Oh no, oh shit, Deku, I’m so sorry!”

Izuku groans, so softly that you only hear it because you’re pressed so closely against him, and the two of you reluctantly separate. Izuku’s cheeks are flushed, and he looks slightly dazed as he gives you an embarrassed, but ridiculously adorable, smile before you both turn to Uraraka.

She’s standing a couple of feet away, hands clasped over her face. “Oh no,” she moans. “This is the worst! I’m so sorry!”

Izuku clears his throat. “Uh, not to press the point, but you could just leave again?”

Uraraka’s hands fall to her sides, and you notice with concern that not all of her regret is jokey - there’s a tightness about her eyes that suggests actual worry.

Clearly Izuku notes it too, because he straightens up, instantly tense. “Uraraka? What is it? Why were you looking for me?”

She bites her lip, sliding her gaze over to you before fixing it back on Izuku. “Shouto got an alert from one of the sidekicks we left at the agency. One of the emergency notifications that you requested be put in place has gone off.”

“What does that mean?” You ask, knowing you’re interrupting, but too distracted by the way Uraraka is looking at you worriedly to care.

“It means that the police have called to let us know something has happened - something that I asked them to notify me of if it ever occurred,” Izuku says darkly. “Which one was it, Uraraka? What happened?”

Uraraka grits her teeth.

“Cthulhu has escaped imprisonment.”

Chapter Text

“Cthulhu has escaped imprisonment.”

Ice shoots up your spine. For an instant, you think you're seeing stars, and then you realise that it's the energy of Izuku's quirk, crackling to life around him. His body is taut with tension, pulled tight like a bowstring ready to snap. You hold back a shiver, skin crawling as memories of writhing tentacles fill your mind.

"When?" Izuku's voice is dark. "Do they have a trace on him?"

Uraraka shakes her head quickly. "I don't know, Shouto was getting the details while I came to find you."

"Let's go in then," Izuku says without hesitation. He turns to you, fierce eyes softening as he touches your cheek gently. "Stick with me, okay?"

There's nothing you want more right now than to stay as close to Izuku as possible, so you nod your hasty agreement. Izuku gives you a brief but reassuring smile, making a visible effort to let go of his quirk. Uraraka turns to leave, and Izuku leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek while her back is turned, making your heart skitter with joy despite the looming emergency.

“We’re not finished, ” he murmurs, stroking the back of your arm. “I’m gonna sort this situation out and then we can talk again.” He pauses, looking suddenly shy. “If- if you want to, I mean.”

“I do!” you blurt, a little embarrassed at how fast the eager words slip out. “I mean, yes, of course I want to.” You share a smile of sheepish affection, and then hurry to follow Uraraka inside.

As you wind through clumps of chatting heroes, you slip your hand into Izuku’s, threading your fingers together and squeezing gently. His returning squeeze, and the delighted smile he shoots you, warms you like sunlight. You fervently hope that your hero friends can solve this problem with Cthulhu quickly, so that you and Izuku can pick up the threads of your unfinished conversation soon.

Distracted by everything that’s happened with Izuku, and the way that holding his hand makes your heart skip, you almost forget your fear. Then you see the others, and note their serious, worried faces. All of Izuku’s friends you’ve seen tonight are there, gathered around the table as Todoroki speaks into his phone, his sombre expression a stark contrast to the flushed enjoyment he’d shown on the dance floor earlier.

Bakugou glances over, his sharp gaze flicking over your joined hands, and you feel your face heat up when he smirks at Izuku. Everyone else is intent on Todoroki, until Uraraka leads you up to the table.

“Ah! You found them, well done,” Iida says, glasses flashing as he lifts a hand in greeting.

You feel tension thick in the air as the others all nod or wave to you and Izuku, staying quiet so as not to disturb Todoroki’s conversation, and hold Izuku’s hand a little tighter. He steps closer to you, shoulder brushing yours as your joined hands are pressed between your bodies. The close contact is both reassuring and thrilling.

Todoroki finally bids the person on the phone a clipped goodbye, and immediately his eyes seek out Izuku, who doesn’t hesitate before diving right to the heart of the situation.

“Shouto, what’s going on? Do they know where Cthulhu is right now? What’s the current situation?”

"Apparently he got out earlier this evening, but it wasn't noticed until about an hour ago." Todoroki grimaces with distaste. "One of the guards was crooked, which is why it took so long for anyone to realise. They've got the guard under lock and key now, but there's currently no intel on Cthulhu’s location."

Izuku makes a noise of frustration, and you turn to him, querying. "Do you have to go now, then?"

Izuku frowns, eyes intent on your face. "Why would I go?"

"To help find Cthulhu, or whatever? Isn't that why the police alerted you?" You trail off as Izuku and Todoroki exchange an unreadable glance, and an uncomfortable shuffle goes around the table. It's clear that the heroes know something you don’t, and your stomach turns over with a sudden pang of fear. "What? What is it?"

"It's okay!" Uraraka says, a bit too quickly to be properly reassuring. "It's nothing to be worried about. We're going to take care of everything."

You give Izuku a pleading look, and his eyes soften. "That's not why I had the police alert set up," he explains quietly, as his thumb starts rubbing gently over yours. "It's pretty common that when unreformed villains and criminals get out of prison, they seek out those who were involved in their capture. Usually that would be heroes, or police, but with Cthulhu…”

“It might be me,” you finish, and a wash of horror prickles over your skin when Izuku nods, his expression dark. “Oh god, Izuku, I-”

“It’s okay!” Izuku says hurriedly, and you wonder if the blood draining from your face is visible to him. “You’re safe with me, and with everyone here! You know we’ll look after you until Cthulhu’s put away again.”

There’s a general murmur of consensus around the table, and you would be buoyed up by Uraraka’s fierce smile, Todoroki’s nod, and the way that Kirishima clenches his hands into fists, but there’s a horrible thought in your head that steals away all the comfort.

“No, no, that’s not why I’m worried. Earlier, I-” you drop Izuku’s hand, fumbling for your phone as your fingers start to shake. Opening your messages, you shove the phone towards him. “Look, is this- I mean, this isn’t related, right? Right, Izuku?” you ask a little desperately, watching him for any reaction as he scans through your messages.

“What is it, Deku?” Uraraka asks curiously, stepping over to pat you on the shoulder.

Izuku’s face is dark. “A message from an unknown number, sent earlier this evening. It says, ‘I’ll be seeing you soon. C’.”

Bakugou curses venomously under his breath, a sentiment echoed in the expressions of the others. You see Izuku’s knuckles turn white as he grips your phone.

“We’ll see if this can be traced. It seems too coincidental to ignore,” he says, then looks into your eyes with a startling intensity. “It changes nothing, though. Even if this is from Cthulhu, or someone on his behalf, you’re still safe, I promise.”

Fear is beginning to grip your heart like a vice. “No, that’s not all,” you say, mouth dry and thick. You grasp Izuku’s arm with both hands, silently begging him to understand your garbled worries. “The other message - Inaba said a letter had been delivered to the home for me tonight. Hand delivered, Izuku. What if it’s like- like the other one?”

Izuku’s eyes widen in understanding. “The letter threat you got before,” he breathes. “If we assume that it was actually from Cthulhu, and if this new letter is too, then-”

“He knows about the home, he knows where the children are,” you finish, the panic rising in your voice with each word.

Bakugou surges to his feet, sparks already popping from his palms. “Get the home on the fucking phone, now!”

“Easy, Katsuki.” Kirishima lays a quieting hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, but a muscle twitches in his jaw as if he’s clenching his teeth, and he turns to you intently. “Can you? Can you get them on the phone and let them know what’s happening, and-”

“Tell them we’re on the fucking way,” Bakugou snarls, teeth bared. “If any shitty B-list villain motherfuckers wants to get at my kid, they’re gonna have to get through me first!”

“Get through us first,” Kirishima says, voice low and fierce. Bakugou grins viciously at him, and both their eyes blaze with the light of battle.

Izuku presses your phone back into your hands, fingers brushing yours comfortingly. “That sounds like a good idea, do you think you can do that?” he asks you, voice gentle despite Bakugou’s snapped urges to hurry up.

Nodding wordlessly, you immediately dial Inaba’s number - you know he’s there tonight, and it’s easier than going via the office phone. Izuku rests a warm hand on your back, smiling at you encouragingly when you lean into him.

As the phone rings, you see Kaminari staring at Bakugou, mouth agape. “My kid?” he repeats wonderingly.

“I knew it,” you hear Todoroki murmur, and then your attention is taken up by Inaba’s voice answering in your ear.

You fumble through the conversation, handing the phone over to Izuku when you find yourself rambling and making no sense, but eventually everything is explained to Inaba. He is told not to open the envelope, just in case there’s any danger, and is reassured that Kirishima and Bakugou will be there shortly to guard the home. Inaba says that they haven’t seen anything of concern yet, but you know he will take the situation seriously.

The moment you hang up the call, Bakugou is already pushing his way round the table, uncaring of the feet he steps on as he makes his exit. Kirishima is right behind him, practically vibrating with pent up energy.

“C’mon Ei, I’ve had a couple drinks, so you need to drive.” Bakugou pauses next to you, fixing you with a hard look as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Listen, nerd. I don’t lose to villains, and I don’t plan on starting tonight, got it?”

You give him a shaky smile, understanding that this is his version of comfort. “Got it, thanks Kacchan.”

He rolls his eyes at you and stalks away. Kirishima lingers long enough to clap you and Izuku heartily on the shoulder and grin reassuringly before he's chasing after Bakugou.

Izuku gives you a bemused smile. "You weren't lying about the Kacchan thing, that's amazing!"

"Right!?" Kaminari leans across the table eagerly. "And did you hear what he said just now - something about a kid?!"

Iida frowns at his gossipy excitement, and Sero nudges Kaminari with an elbow. "Dude, read the room. We'll ask Blasty about it later, yeah?"

Kaminari looks up at you and winces apologetically. "Right, of course, I'm sorry! I'll focus up now, and gossip later."

You can't help the weak chuckle that escapes you, but feel better for it anyway as it loosens the fear in your chest. "Don't worry about it."

Izuku's hand smooths gentle circles in between your shoulder blades. "So, we don't need to focus on the home for now, since we can trust Kacchan and Kirishima to look after things there. We just need to keep you safe while we secure Cthulhu."

Uraraka nods, and then turns her attention on you, brown eyes warm and wide with concern. "I don't think you should go home tonight, it's too risky if we suspect Cthulhu has your address." She flexes her hands, emphasising well-muscled forearms. "It's not like we can't handle him, but there's no reason you should have to see him at all!"

"I agree, we already know you have a bad habit of getting involved with criminals, so best to limit your chances from the start," Todoroki tells you, the corner of his mouth lifting in what you've learned is his version of a cheeky smile.

Izuku laughs softly, still stroking your back. "They're right," he says with a small frown. "I don't think you should even go back home to fetch anything, just in case. You'll be safest where I can protect you, so you should stay with me until this is all sorted, okay?"

You think of his apartment, filled with light and colourful hero merchandise and the comfort of Izuku's presence, and there's no hesitation in your answer. "Yes, please."

"Excellent!" Iida chops his hand down on the table emphatically. "Now, let's work out the rest of the plan. I doubt Cthulhu has gone very far, if he is indeed after you, so tonight I suppose we can gather information and rest before we strike tomorrow. The police will be out tracking him in the meantime, anyway."

Izuku immediately dives into the conversation, asking Todoroki to keep in touch with the police, and requesting Iida collect the new envelope from the home and take it for investigation. Uraraka volunteers to swing by your apartment in the morning to pick up some necessities, and it is agreed that there will be a meeting at Izuku's immediately afterwards to decide on the full plan of action. Sero and Kaminari ask to be kept in the loop too, offering their help freely.

It’s bewildering. You know that this is partly just a typical hero response to an escaped villain, but so much of what they're organising is centered around you. All this attention, all these heroes, focussed on your safety and well-being. When that thought starts to become overwhelming, you remind yourself that these are Izuku’s friends first and foremost - and wouldn’t all groups of friends do their best to look after one another? It just so happens that this particular group’s version of doing their best is rather more dramatic than the average person.

When the plans are concluded, Uraraka gives you a hug, snuggling you close and whispering reassurances that everything will be fine, while Izuku calls for the car to be ready downstairs. You say goodbye to everyone, making sure to thank them for their help, but before you leave, Izuku pulls you back through the crowd and towards the bar, muttering something under his breath about keeping prying eyes off you.

He stops in front of a tall, graceful woman, and you recognise Creati, another one of Izuku’s UA classmates. She’s stunningly beautiful in a classical way, all soft, generous body and fine cheekbones, and you find yourself a little awed until she turns a warm, welcoming smile on you both.

“Hello Midoriya, it’s so lovely to see you! Congratulations on your award tonight.” She leans in to press her cheek to his in a friendly greeting kiss. After some quick introductions, she greets you the same way, much to your pleased surprise. Her perfume smells just like her - sweet and elegant.

“Yaomomo, I’m so sorry, I’ve got a favour to ask you. We need to get out of the building without being recognised - well, actually it’s fine if I’m recognised - and I wondered if you could make something as a basic disguise?”

Creati listens carefully, tapping her lip in thought, and then nods without hesitation. “Of course!"

It says a lot about the lives Pro Heroes lead that she doesn't even question Izuku about why you're trying to leave without being recognised.

Creati eyes you up professionally, measuring your size with an appraising eye, and then you watch with fascination as she immediately begins pulling fabric from the flesh of her arm. Izuku starts muttering again, giving you a rundown about lipids and molecules, and Creati smiles in fond amusement.

"Here," she says finally, holding up a nondescript, hooded jacket, and a pair of smart black trousers similar to what the bar staff are wearing. "I think this should work - it'll cover you up but not look too out of place if you leave via the staff entrance."

You take the clothes gratefully, and she brushes off your thanks with a graceful wave of her hand. Izuku promises to meet her soon for afternoon tea, and then he's towing you away again.

You stop briefly at a bathroom to pull the new clothes on without anyone watching, and then Izuku's leading you through the building, and bundling you into the same black car from earlier.

Izuku directs the driver to make several detours, whilst keeping his own keen eye out for any sign that you’re being tailed. You sit quietly, somewhat perplexed by how much it feels like you've fallen into an action movie.

One small part of your brain can't help but note how attractive Izuku is when he's in his hero element like this - he's just so magnetically capable, with his determined expression and quick decisions.

You don't know exactly how things are between you and Izuku - and now isn't the right time to ask - but you have a precious hope that admiring him like this won't have to make you feel guilty anymore.

~

Izuku's apartment is just as you'd remembered it, except that compared to your last visit, its owner is much more of a hyperattentive host.

As soon as you're both in the door, Izuku begins fussing around you with a faint air of anxiety, offering you various snacks and drinks before you've even got your shoes off.

Your attempts to get his attention fail until you finally tap his arm with a firm "Izuku!"

He stops mid sentence, then relaxes all of a sudden, finally realising the flurry he'd been in.

"Hi," he says, slowing down enough to smile at you sheepishly. "Sorry, I'm a bit nervous! I don't normally have anybody stay over. Except for Shouto sometimes when he falls asleep during movie nights, but he's more like a cat than a person once he's asleep."

You grin at the image of the poised Todoroki all curled up on Izuku's All Might blanket. "It's fine, I was really nervous when you stayed at my place that time, so now we'll just be even."

"Yeah, I guess so!" Izuku laughs, relieved, and then his eyes soften as he takes you in carefully. "You'll let me know if you need anything, though? I know you must be feeling worried, and tonight was overwhelming even before the whole Cthulhu stuff happened."

You feel yourself deflate a little, humour fading as the fear resurfaces. Something about Izuku's care just makes you want to be open with him, though, so you don't bother hiding it.

"I'm really exhausted," you admit. "Actually, all I want right now is to shower and get comfortable." You pluck at your new trousers appreciatively. "Creati's clothes are beautiful quality, but they're not exactly made for lounging in."

Izuku smacks his forehead dramatically. "Gah! I'm so stupid, I should've asked Yaomomo to make some overnight stuff for you!" he moans. "She was right there, and I know she wouldn't have minded! I hope you don't mind borrowing something of mine until Uraraka comes by in the morning?"

You don't care what you wear at this point, as long as it's soft enough to sleep in, and when you tell Izuku as much he leads you through the apartment without delay. His bedroom is just as comfortable as the rest of his apartment, with the bed neatly made and colourful, framed posters adorning the walls.

Izuku roots around in a set of drawers, muttering inaudibly to himself as he finds and rejects various clothing, and then eventually makes a noise of triumph as he pulls out a couple of items.

"I think this is the best I've got," he says, wrinkling his freckled nose apologetically as you take the small pile.

"I'm sure it's fine, thank you!"

Izuku leads you into the bathroom, giving you an unnecessarily long, but kind of adorable, explanation of how the shower works, and encourages you at least five times to use anything you need of his. After equipping you with a large, fluffy towel, Izuku hurries out of the bathroom, a little pink around the ears.

The shower is powerful and hot, and you have to hold back a groan of relief when you step under the spray, letting the water sluice the tension right out of your scalp. You entertain yourself by poking through his toiletries curiously, justifying your nosiness with the fact that Izuku had welcomed you to use anything you wanted, and have to hold back a giggle when you find an All Might shaped bar of soap, clearly designed for kids, hidden under everything else like a shameful secret.

These distractions serve you well until you step out of the shower and face the small pile of clothes Izuku had given you, and then it all hits you at once: you are staying the night at Izuku’s, smelling deliciously like his shampoo, wearing his clothes, and with the memory of kissing him still hot on your lips every time you spend longer than a second looking at his face. You bury your face in the damp towel.

After a long minute of talking yourself into some semblance of calm, you quickly dress. Izuku has given you some soft grey sweatpants, a clearly well-loved Fatgum t-shirt, and a ridiculously soft jumper that looks hand-knitted. You immediately swaddle yourself in the soft layers, and are delighted to discover that everything is just a little too big - you’ve always firmly believed that the best lounge clothes are oversized.

When you slink back out of the bathroom, you find Izuku making up a bed on the sofa. He looks up as you enter, and his hands freeze halfway through plumping a pillow. A flush of pink spreads across his cheeks.

“So cute,” he mutters wonderingly, staring at you with an intensity that makes you swallow hard. Then he starts, and turns quickly to continue pummelling the pillow, hiding his face from you. “Ah! I mean, um, I hope everything fits okay.”

You clear your throat, a bit breathless. “Yes, thanks.”

There’s an awkward pause, and then Izuku’s fluttering around you again, pressing a cup of hot herbal tea into your hands, and telling you to make yourself at home while he takes his turn in the shower.

You wonder whether he actually used his quirk to shower quicker, because you’ve barely had time to perch at the breakfast bar and sip your tea before Izuku comes barrelling back out in his pyjamas, fresh-faced and still towelling at his wet hair. Your eyes catch on a drop of water sliding down the curve of his neck, and you quickly bury your face in your tea before Izuku has a chance to see the sudden burst of heat that goes through you.

You feel so mixed up: frightened for the children, and for yourself, and yet trusting implicitly that everyone is safe under the protection of your hero friends. You’re weary to your bones, but also fidgety with an anxious sense that you should be doing something. You feel comforted by Izuku's presence, while simultaneously catapulting into random dips of exhilaration from being near him.

Izuku leans on the counter next to you, close but not touching.

The fidgety feeling finally gets under your skin, and you break, turning to him worriedly. "The children are definitely safe tonight, right? And Inaba and the other staff?"

Izuku doesn't hesitate. "Yes, absolutely, " he says, holding your gaze with confidence. "Kacchan and Kirishima are amazing heroes, and there's no way they'd let anything happen on their watch. Plus, even if Cthulhu did want to target the home, he probably needs to lay low tonight - he's been on the run, and likely needs to gather his strength." Izuku's eyes flash, almost as bright and green as the energy crackles of One for All. "He's going to need all the strength he can get when we find him."

The vicious certainty in Izuku's voice does even more to reassure you than his comforting words had, as you feel your own anger echoing inside. There’s no way Izuku will let Cthulhu get away with anything.

You let out a long breath, tilting sideways on your stool so you can lean against the warmth of Izuku's side. "Thank you," you tell him quietly. "I trust you all to keep us safe, I really do, but somehow that doesn't make it less frightening."

Izuku hums a soft acknowledgement, then slides his arm around you, resting his cheek on your head.

"It's okay to be scared," he murmurs. "But I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

You stay there for several minutes, just breathing and being close to each other, and you finally find yourself sinking into a welcome sense of peace. Izuku eventually breaks the contact with a small sigh, offering you a smile.

"You must be tired, and tomorrow is likely going to be busy, so we should probably sleep."

You nod, eyes heavy. "Sounds good."

Slipping off the stool, you pad towards the sofa, but Izuku catches your hand. "Oh! Actually, I remade my bed with fresh sheets for you. You're the guest, so I'll sleep on the sofa, okay?"

Warmth flushes through you; he's so thoughtful. "No, you don't have to do that! I'll be fine on the sofa, honestly."

Izuku smiles sunnily, but there's a stubborn set to his jaw. "I insist! Please, I'd sleep better knowing you're comfortable, and this way I'm closer to the door."

"Alright," you tell him gratefully, too tired to argue like you normally would. "Thank you!"

Izuku's still holding your hand as you move towards his bedroom, and when you pause by the door, turning to each other, you are hit by the thought that it suddenly feels very much like saying goodbye at the end of a date.

"Goodnight, then," Izuku says, smiling gently, but he doesn't move.

"Yeah," you whisper absently, and take a small step closer. "Night, Izuku."

Izuku bites his lip, and your heart skitters when his gaze flicks to your mouth. "Can I-"

He doesn't finish the murmured question because you're already nodding, reaching to slide your hands around his neck. Izuku leans in, sighing softly as your fingers tangle in the back of his hair, and then he's kissing you so gently that it makes your whole body melt.

He wraps both arms around your waist, palms hot against the small of your back, and you press yourself against him willingly, revelling in the delicious feeling of his firm body against yours. Izuku makes an appreciative noise against your lips, not quite a moan, and you feel dizzyingly hot.

Stroking your fingers down the nape of his neck, burying them in the thick curls there, you lose yourself in the kiss. He's so good, Izuku's just so good, and desperate affection courses through your veins. Izuku returns your fervour, pulling you close and kissing you with a sweet delicacy that makes you feel so treasured your knees almost buckle.

He pulls back just enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek and your forehead, dusting your face with tiny kisses like the freckles scattered across his own skin.

"You're so precious," he whispers against your skin. "You're so important to me."

You can hardly breathe. "You too," you manage hoarsely. "Izuku, you're so important to me, too."

Izuku pulls you in even closer with a soft, wordless noise, and for a long moment you just cling to each other, faces buried in each other's warmth as you share long breaths. Eventually, you untangle yourself, but can't resist dropping another kiss, and another, on Izuku's smiling lips before you finally turn to the bedroom door.

"Come and wake me if you need anything, okay?” Izuku says, eyes earnest. You try not to get distracted by the way he looks so deliciously tousled. “I mean it, I’d rather you wake me even if you think it’s for something silly.”

“I will,” you promise. “But to be honest, I think I’m going to just pass out the second my head hits the pillow.”

Izuku’s eyes crease with the force of his smile. “Sweet dreams, then.”

“You too. Night, Izuku.”

Just as the door is swinging closed behind you, Izuku speaks again, quiet and warm. “I did mean it, what I said earlier. You’re so cute.”

The door closes with a quiet snick, and you cover your face while emitting a noise that’s both unbearably happy and hotly flustered. You think you hear a faint sound from the other side of the door, echoing your own, and can’t help laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

You climb into Izuku’s bed, burying your face in the pillows to enjoy the scent of his clean laundry. There's a thousand thoughts whirling around inside you, but you don’t think you’ve ever been this worn out, so it’s a blessedly short time before sleep pulls you under.

~

You wake with a gasp, clawing at your throat as the memory of nightmare tentacles still squeezes at your breath. For a moment you’re too scared to move, infested by the sheer terror of your dream, and then a shudder of illogical panic runs through you and galvanises your body into action.

Throwing back the sheets, you stumble to the door, flinging it open carelessly. Izuku’s apartment is dark, and your eyes are still blurred with tears anyway, so you just stumble blindly in the general direction of the sofa.

“Izuku?” you whisper, voice hoarse with sleep and fear. Your knee catches on the arm of the sofa, jarring your progress painfully. “Izuku, please wake up,” you whisper again, the sob caught in your throat preventing you from speaking louder.

You hear Izuku wake, sitting up with a sudden rustle of blankets and a querying, wordless murmur, and gasp with relief as your patting hands find the shape of his blanketed legs in the dark.

“Izuku-”

“S’okay, I’m here.” The sound of his sleepy, concerned voice like a thread of light in the dark left by your nightmare. “I’m right here.”

Strong hands find yours, tugging you gently down onto the sofa, and you bonelessly slump into the space between Izuku’s legs, letting him pull you gently against his chest as his sleep-warm limbs cage you in protectively.

You press your cheek against his collarbone, feeling the warm, living reality of him under your touch. His hands trail up and down your back, tracing over you lightly as if he’s checking you over, touching you to reassure himself of your safety. Gratitude wells up in you.

“What’s wrong, what happened?” Izuku’s words are so gentle and worried, and the sob in your throat is finally released in a shuddering breath as your tears start to dampen his shirt. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’m right here.” His voice is calming, pitched low with worry and compassion. “Was it a nightmare? I’m so sorry, ah, it’s okay.”

It’s like a dam has been broken, like the frozen ice of your fear has shattered, and now you’re battered by the full force of your emotions as they pour forth. Your fingers tremble as you grasp at Izuku’s shirt. “N-nightmare,” you choke out, gritting your teeth against the waves of panic. “Izuku, the children.”

Izuku presses a kiss to your head. “Hey, they’re safe, the children are okay. They’re safe with Kacchan and Kirishima, remember? Nothing will hurt them.”

You shake your head with a moan, unable to rid yourself of the images flashing through your mind - the children, terrified, hurting, suffocating.

“Okay, okay, it’s alright.” Izuku arms tighten around you as he shuffles slightly, leaning to the side, and the room is suddenly flooded with light as he flicks the side lamp on.

Izuku strokes your head, fingers gentle as he holds and soothes you. The tears begin to dry up under the comfort of his touch, and the sense of reality that the light brings, but you can’t seem to shake your terror.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, voice rough as you scrub at your face with shaking hands. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“No, please don’t be sorry! It’s not your fault, you have nothing to be sorry for. Nightmares are just awful like that. It was probably triggered by hearing about Cthulhu, right?” Izuku pulls back a little so you can meet his gaze as you nod, and you see the concerned line between his eyebrows, the way his green eyes search your face. He rubs the heel of his thumb gently against your temple, and then straightens with a sudden thought. “Hang on, I think I know what might help.”

Izuku leans away again, swiping his phone off the coffee table and dialling a number he apparently has memorised. The apartment is so quiet that you can hear the call ringing, and then the click of it being answered.

“Ah, hi Kacchan! Hang on, I’m just gonna put you on loudspeaker.” There’s a quiet grumbling on the other end, and Izuku fumbles the phone away from his ear. “Okay, that’s better.”

“What’s up, nerd? You two okay? Got any news for us?” Bakugou’s voice is growly even through the tinniness of a phone speaker.

“We’re fine, thanks Kacchan,” Izuku says lightly, glancing at your tear-swollen face and anchoring his arm more firmly around you. “Hey, could you just give us an update on what’s going on there? Is everyone okay, everyone safe?”

Bakugou tsks loudly. “‘Course everyone’s safe, you doubting me now, Deku? The brats are all asleep, have been since we got here, except for Eijirou waking the kid up by sticking his head into his room like an idiot.”

There’s a faint noise of protest in the background, followed by a kerfuffle as Bakugou’s sudden curses become muffled.

“Hey guys!” Kirishima’s voice rings down the line suddenly, hushed but excited. “I know it wasn’t manly of me to wake Yuki up, but I couldn’t help it, I just had to see the little man tonight!”

Izuku beams, his soft laugh vibrating through you comfortingly, and a small smile creeps over your own face. “Congratulations Kirishima! I hear you’re going to be dads!”

Kirishima crows, and you have a perfectly clear mental image of his starstruck eyes. “Yeah! I’m so pumped, you hav-”

“Oi Deku,” Bakugou’s voice cuts in, sounding full of vicious glee. “I win. I beat you, gonna be a dad before you and I’m gonna be the fucking best at it, too.”

“Yeah you are, babe!” Kirishima’s voice is full of affection and pride, and you smile again, picturing them with their faces squished together so they can both talk on the phone.

“Anyway, Deku, I gotta go do a patrol of the area, so go to fucking sleep or something.”

“Alright, thanks Kacchan! And congratulations again!” Izuku says easily, and you realise this is your last chance to say something before the call ends.

“Uh, hey, thanks guys,” you say, voice cracked and hoarse from the crying. “For looking after everyone, I mean. I feel better knowing you’re there.”

There’s a moment of silence, the phone speaker hissing in the quiet. Izuku strokes your arm encouragingly.

“Like I said, I don’t lose to villains, so don’t panic your little idiot head over it, right nerd?” Bakugou’s voice is gruff, but somewhat softer than before.

“Yeah, we’ve got your back! Nothing’s gonna happen while we’re here!”

“Thank you,” you manage to say again, and then Bakugou’s demanding Izuku let him be, and hanging up the call.

Izuku tosses his phone aside, and brushes your cheek with a gentle knuckle. “How are you feeling? Any better?” He smiles sweetly when you nod, and then breaks into a wide grin. “Kacchan must be really fond of you, he didn’t even shout at you for doubting him!”

You laugh croakily, but there’s a pleased warmth in your chest. Izuku has been close to your heart for a long time, but it’s a lovely thought to consider that you might grow close to his friends, too.

“It’s only been a few hours, so there’s plenty of night left,” Izuku says, a little more gently. “Do you think you can go back to sleep?”

Your eyes feel swollen and heavy, and now that the fear has drained out of you, you’re feeling limp and tired all over again, so you nod, and shyly press a kiss to Izuku’s freckled cheek as you disentangle yourself and stand up. The quiet, pleased sound this elicits from him makes you smile all over again.

“Thanks, Izuku. I’m sorry I woke you, but you really did make me feel better.”

“Make sure you wake me up if it happens again, okay?”

You hesitate, looking down at him in his nest of blankets and pillows, and your heart picks up. Izuku hasn’t been hesitant in lavishing you with physical affection ever since the gala, but you’re still nervous about pushing whatever this new thing is too far. You gather your courage from the kindness in the corners of Izuku’s smile.

“Izuku, would you-” you shuffle awkwardly. “Do you want to share the bed tonight? I think I’d sleep better with you there.”

His eyes shoot wide. “If- um, if you’re sure?”

You just nod furiously, too embarrassed to voice your wish again, and Izuku breaks into a bashful grin. He fumbles his way out of the tangle on the sofa, and then is gently leading you to the bedroom with warm, steady hands.

Being around Izuku somehow makes you helpless, you think, letting him guide you into bed and pull the covers up to your chin. You’ve been independent for your whole adult life - for more than that, really - and yet all you want to do is give yourself up into Izuku’s hands, and let him look after you.

When Izuku climbs into the other side of the bed, though, you can’t find it in yourself to regret anything. The mattress dips and settles, and you hear Izuku’s soft sigh as he gets comfortable. You can’t see him properly in the dark, just a vague silhouette and the slight shine of his eyes. One warm, scarred hand fumbles under the covers until he’s holding your hand gently.

“Izuku?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we cuddle?” You’re grateful for the cover of darkness, holding back a cringe at how embarrassing it is to ask, but Izuku just huffs a soft, happy breath, and then he’s gently tugging you across the bed.

He gathers you in close, pillowing your head on the crook between his neck and his shoulder, his other arm a comforting weight around you. You wind your own arm around him in return, barely able to breathe with the sweet pleasure of snuggling into him. Izuku kisses your head once, and you sigh happily against him.

As your bodies and limbs tangle into sleepy warmth, you feel your mind drifting with the utter comfort of it all, and sleep settles over you to the sound of Izuku’s quiet breathing in your ear.

Chapter Text

Waking up next to Izuku, you’re the most content you’ve felt in a long time. Consciousness comes slowly, drifting in and out like gentle waves lapping at the shore.

The first thing your sleepy brain notices is warm. You’re suffused with warmth, every single muscle in your body utterly relaxed in your cocoon of bed covers and limbs. Izuku’s arm is draped around your waist, holding you to the solid comfort of his chest. The back of your neck tickles faintly with the steady rhythm of his breaths.

Feeling supremely comfortable, like a cat who’s found the most perfect patch of sunlight, you let yourself wake up fully, and open your eyes to a bedroom lit with pale morning light, rain pattering against the window.

You’re cuddling in bed with Izuku. Scratch that - you’re spooning in bed with Izuku, and you have to squeeze your eyes tightly closed at the burst of happiness this thought produces.

Moving slowly so you don’t disturb him, you drift your hand up to lay over his, fingers resting lightly on the raised lines of his scars. As embarrassing as it had been, asking Izuku to share the bed with you had been your best decision in a long time - you’d slept heavily and peacefully, and the few times you’d woken in the night, his presence beside you had been enough to reassure you back to sleep.

Izuku shifts slightly in his sleep, murmuring something unintelligible, and a slow smile spreads over your face. Of course he talks in his sleep, you think delightedly. Izuku is filled with contrasts, and it’s a constant wonder to you - how can one person be so adorable, and yet so ridiculously strong and powerful?

You’re considering letting yourself doze off again, but jerk when your phone suddenly blares to life on the bedside table.

With a strangled cry, Izuku is instantly in motion, sitting up and throwing the blankets off him in one movement. One arm flings out to cover you, pressing you into the mattress, and you see the hot lines of energy running under his skin as the crackling energy of One for All zips along his limbs. You twist under his arm, and catch sight of his expression, half snarl and half panicked confusion as his head swivels, searching for the source of danger.

“Izuku,” you gasp, heart pounding with shock. “It’s okay, it’s just my phone.”

Izuku looks down at you, eyes wide and blank, and then he shakes his head as if finally coming round to full alertness. He recoils immediately, pulling his hand back as though afraid he‘d hurt you.

“Oh god, I’m sorry! Did I scare you? I’m so sorry! Sometimes if I’m woken up by a strange noise, or without any warning, my body just reacts before I’m even fully awake. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, of course not,” you tell him firmly, sitting yourself up and patting his arm reassuringly. “I’m fine, you just made me jump! Hey, if you want to pass my phone, I’ll shut the noise off.”

Scrubbing his face with one hand, Izuku quickly obeys, looking like he’s still trying to get a grip on where he is and what’s happening. You leave your hand resting on his arm as you take the phone, hoping the touch might ground him, and he gives you a grateful smile. Seeing Inaba’s name on the call display, you answer quickly.

“Inaba, how are you?”

“Hello, you,” Inaba sounds his usual laidback self, so you discard the beginnings of your panic. “You sound like you just woke up.”

“That’s because I literally just did. I’m still in bed, your call nearly scared me half to death!”

Inaba laughs, unrepentant. “Ah, sorry about that. Just wanted to let you know that we’re all fine here. Red Riot and Dynamight are currently making pancakes in the kitchen, and they spent all night taking turns patrolling around the building, so we’re feeling pretty secure. How are you doing, is Deku keeping you safe?”

You glance over at Izuku, currently yawning hugely as he squints down at his own phone. “Yeah,” you say, trying not to let your silly smile creep into your voice. “He’s looking after me just fine.”

“Oho, I'll bet he is.”

“Inaba!” Scandalised by your colleague’s teasing, you prepare to hit back with your own snarky comment, but are interrupted when Izuku suddenly sneezes. He looks at you, mouthing ‘sorry’ with a bashful grin.

There’s a short silence while you pray that the sneeze wasn’t audible on the other end of the call.

“Wait,” Inaba says slowly, sounding delighted. “Is he there right now? Are you in bed with Deku? Good work, colour me impressed!”

“No, Inaba, stop,” you moan, horrified as you imagine who else might be hearing his end of the conversation. “Please tell me nobody else heard you say that, oh god!”

“Don’t worry, I’m in the office alone.” Inaba chuckles. “But hey, I better let you get back to that hero of yours, can’t keep a man waiting in bed for you, hm?”

“Inaba!” You hiss his name warningly, but he just hangs up the call with another soft laugh that echoes in your ear. “That man is a menace!”

Izuku looks at you quizzically. “Is everything alright at the home? I haven’t had any messages from Kirishima or Kacchan, so I assumed everything is okay so far.”

“Yeah, everyone’s fine! Just Inaba teasing me about something,” you tell him, relaxing into a smile as you take in his tousled bed head, and soft, open expression. “Good morning, by the way.”

Izuku breaks into a wide smile. “Good morning! Oh, I had a message from Uraraka. She’s getting your stuff and will be here shortly, so I guess it was a good thing that Inaba woke us up!”

“Oh, great! We should probably get up, then.”

“Probably best!”

Izuku hesitates, but then leans over and kisses your cheek gently. Before he can get too far away, you plant a kiss on his cheek in return, wishing you had the time - and the confidence, now that the light of morning is here - to lavish more attention on his freckled skin.

Izuku blushes, and your brain stutters as you try to comprehend how one man can be so cute.

With Uraraka on the way with your own clothes, you don’t bother changing, but do make use of Izuku’s bathroom to freshen up so you feel somewhat like a real, presentable human being after your exhausting night.

It’s only when Izuku is showering and you’re left alone that the contentment of your morning starts to sour, as the reality of everything starts to sink in again. It has been more than a dream spending this time with Izuku, but you can’t forget that this is all because Cthulhu is out there somewhere and is possibly after you.

The jangling of keys in the front door initially makes your heart pound, until you hear Uraraka’s voice calling out a chirpy greeting as she lets herself in. It’s quite sweet to think that Izuku has given spare keys to his friends.

You walk over to see her laden with bags, and wonder how she is managing everything, before you realise that every single one of them is floating weightlessly in her hands.

“Good morning, sweet Cake! How are you doing today?” Uraraka wastes no time, depositing the bags on the kitchen counter and greeting you with a swift hug. “Your clothes and things are in this bag, and I also made sure to bring your shower stuff because I wasn’t sure what Deku would have. Oh! And I got some coffee and breakfast as well. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just got a selection of different drinks and the rest of us will have whatever you don’t want! I think the others will be here soon.”

The scent of coffee wafts through the air as she starts pulling a tray of drinks from a large paper bag.

“Uraraka,” you say, very seriously. “You are an angel, and have saved my life even though it’s not even 9am yet.”

Uraraka gives you a delighted grin, and pats you on the shoulder. “My pleasure! You can’t trust Deku to have the good coffee anyway, that man only drinks the worst instant stuff when he’s trying to keep awake and- oh, hey Deku!”

Izuku shoots Uraraka a suspicious look as she smiles innocently at him, but it doesn’t last long and the two friends greet each other with a warm hug. You wonder whether Izuku and his friends have always been so physically affectionate, or whether it is something they learned over the years of being close to each other. You suspect it may be rubbing off on you.

By the time you’ve showered and dressed in your own clothes, the rest of Izuku’s friends have arrived, and you find them all perched around the breakfast bar, muffins and pastries and cardboard coffee cups spread out between files and various laptops and other tech you don’t recognise.

Iida greets you in his classic way, both earnest and formal, while Todoroki just gives you a small nod and smile as he sips his drink. You know from last night that Sero and Kaminari live a little further away, so they will be contacted separately if needed, and assuming Kirishima and Bakugou have stayed at the home, everyone is now present.

Izuku waves you over to a seat next to him, pressing a coffee into your hands and sliding a plate piled with various pastries in front of you. He must have remembered your preference in coffee from the few times you’d gone out together, for when you take a cautious sip, you feel satisfaction spread through your bones. Izuku smiles brightly at you as you sigh happily.

Uraraka is tapping at her phone, and then looks up at Izuku. “Tsu says she wanted to be here to help, and to meet Cake, but she’s still stuck helping with that smuggling case she took recently.”

“I bet she’s doing an amazing job, they couldn’t ask for a better hero for that case!” Izuku says enthusiastically, as Uraraka nods her cheerful agreement. He gives you a fond smile. “You’ll have to meet Tsu another time, I think you’ll really like her.”

You start to reply, but Iida leans forward, rapping the counter smartly with his knuckles.

“Since Tsuyu is unavailable, that means everyone is here now, correct? I think we should get started, then!” Iida pulls a laptop to the head of the countertop, and after a short amount of typing you see the faces of Bakugou and Kirishima appear in a video call, scowling and grinning respectively. They look tired after their disrupted night, dark circles hanging under their eyes, but seem focussed nonetheless.

Kirishima waves energetically. “Morning guys! Time to catch a villain!”

Bakugou doesn’t give any greeting, but you see his mouth thin into a determined line, and know beyond doubt that he is on board.

“Shouto, do we have any new intel yet?” Izuku asks, and you can tell from his brisk tone of voice that he’s slipped straight into business mode.

Todoroki shakes his head, frowning slightly. “The police have been trying to track him, and all hero agencies have been asked to keep watch in their local areas, but currently there’s no sign of Cthulhu. The detectives assume he is laying low while deciding on his next move.”

“I took your letter to be analysed,” Iida breaks in, sliding a brown envelope towards you with an apologetic smile. “I made sure it wasn’t personal before I took it to the lab, of course.” His face settles into a flat expression of distaste. “There was nothing unusual about it, and unfortunately the sender covered their tracks well. As expected, it is indeed a note suggesting threat, and though it isn’t signed, the contents are consistent with Cthulhu’s kind of rhetoric.” He grimaces suddenly, darting a look between you and Izuku. “I wouldn’t bother reading it; he blusters and rants a lot, but says little of worth.”

You push the envelope towards Izuku without hesitation. “I don’t want to see it, then, thank you.” As much as your curiosity is burning, you don’t need more spiteful words to replay in your head at night.

Izuku nods his approval, and shoves it into a larger folder at his elbow. His hand touches yours briefly in a subtle gesture of comfort as he smiles reassuringly at you.

Bakugou grunts. “So we don’t know where shitty Tentacular is. We suspect that he hates you-” he nods at you, not quite making eye contact due to the nature of the video call. “-because you gave him that verbal fucking smackdown that got him defeated by Deku, and we can assume he knows where you live and work. That about sum it up?”

Everyone nods or murmurs in agreement, and thoughtful silence settles over the group for a moment.

"Cthulhu isn't that strong," Izuku says finally, and he smiles grimly. "It only took one hit to put him down, and the only reason I couldn't do it faster was out of not wanting to risk the civilians in his grasp or cause any damage to the museum. I have no doubt any one of us could beat him, given the chance."

"So then the only challenge is finding him and drawing him out quickly, before he has a chance to cause trouble or get stronger somehow." Uraraka says, her eyes burning as Izuku nods.

You pick at your breakfast as they begin to debate over the plans, and whether to find Cthulhu or to flush him out. Crumbs scatter across your plate as your fingers tear at a muffin. There's an idea broiling in the back of your mind, fuelled by your desire to have this all ended quickly, so that the children's safety is guaranteed once more.

Heartbeat picking up as you consider what you're about to do, you tune back into the conversation.

"Tracking a vanished villain takes time," Todoroki is insisting. "Our best chance is to draw him out."

"Yeah, man, but how do we do that?" Kirishima is frowning, more serious than you've ever seen him.

You clear your throat. "Use me as bait." Six pairs of eyes land on you, and you stare at your plate, embarrassed by the sudden attention.

"What did you say?" Izuku asks gently, laying a hand over yours.

"Use me as bait." The words come out stronger this time as you meet his gaze.

Izuku's mouth sets stubbornly. "That's what I was afraid you'd said. That's so brave of you, but absolutely not. There's no way I'd risk you like that." His hand is gentle on yours, but his eyes are fierce.

"You don't need to worry about this, it's our job to take care of everything," Todoroki tells you calmly, and Uraraka nods furiously.

"But you said you need to draw Cthulhu out, and if he really is after me, then isn't that the perfect lure?"

"It’s not a bad thought, actually," Bakugou says slowly, and Izuku's head whips to frown at him through the screen.

"Kacchan! It's not even up for consideration."

Bakugou scowls back, undaunted. "Why the fuck not? You said yourself we could take Tentacular down easy, so it's low risk and high reward." His eyes flick off screen briefly. "Plus, the faster we get him, the safer the kids'll be, right?"

"Exactly," you say quickly, before Izuku can get in another argument. "I trust you to keep me safe, and to be honest, I just want Cthulhu gone already."

You look at Izuku, flipping your hand so you can squeeze his fingers.

"I don't want to have to be scared for however long, Izuku. The children need to go to school, and I need to go to work. We need to be able to carry on with our lives without having to be hunkering down and afraid. And we can't keep all of you tied up, the rest of the city needs you!"

Izuku’s teeth are gritted, but he strokes a thumb across your wrist, and you can see the reluctant indecision in his face.

"It is logical to get Cthulhu recaptured as fast as possible," Iida muses with a frown. "But it would have to be guaranteed low risk, as Bakugou said - we can't endanger a civilian needlessly."

Todoroki sighs. "I don't particularly like it, but it makes sense, Izuku."

"Are you sure?" Uraraka reaches to touch your shoulder worriedly. "You don't have to offer that, we can find another way!"

"I'm sure."

Truthfully, your stomach is roiling at the thought of even seeing Cthulhu again, but your determination to see this through is stronger than the fear.

You look at Izuku silently, asking the question with your eyes. You trust him to have your safety at heart, so whatever he decides is best, you'll agree.

Izuku looks pained as he sighs. “I don’t like it.”

“Deku-”

“I don’t like it!” Izuku repeats, talking over Bakugou’s growled interruption. “But I’ll agree to it as a plan, provided we can ensure your safety throughout the entire thing. Risking you in any way defeats the whole point, so it’s only worth doing if we can come up with a plan that guarantees success.”

“That’s super manly, and of course it's a guaranteed success!” Kirishima’s battle enthusiasm breaks what little tension had been in the air, and immediately they all set their considerable experience to hashing out the details.

You don’t have much input - volunteering yourself was really your only idea. You have no strategy training, no battle experience, and not even a quirk to provide any help. Yet, as you sit and listen to the plan being put together, you still feel a glow of satisfaction. Even if it is just for bait, you are being useful, and you hope that maybe this can all be over without too much trouble.

“I think we should move sooner rather than later,” Izuku says, shooting you a sideways glance. "There's no point in delaying and giving Cthulhu time to prepare."

Sweat springs up on your palms. "Okay, so you need me to go somewhere on my own, preferably somewhere without other people, right?"

"Not on your own," Uraraka says firmly. "You might look alone, but you won't be!"

"Actually, I was thinking I'd come with you, anyway." Izuku casually traces the rim of his coffee cup as everyone turns to stare at him.

"Have you lost your idiot brain?" Bakugou sneers through the laptop. "Not exactly bait with a Pro Hero visibly there, is it? What the fuck was the point of this whole plan, shitty nerd?"

"Obviously I'd go in disguise!" Izuku's protest sounds calm, but you see the flash in his eyes as he turns to you. "The more we talk about it, the more the idea of putting you out there turns my stomach. There's no reason we can't do the plan with me there too. It'd be more efficient, actually!"

"Izuku." Todoroki looks exasperated. "Cthulhu has seen you in person, there's no way you wouldn't be recognised."

Iida nods sharply. "Even if he hadn’t seen you before, your face is very well-known now, as all of ours are, and for good reason."

"Sorry, Izuku, but I agree. It defeats the point of using me as bait if there's a chance Cthulhu would be put off," you tell him gently, watching the way his mouth tightens at the corners. "But I'll be okay. I can do this, and then you guys can do the hard part."

"Fine," Izuku says tightly, picking at his cup. "I still don't like it though, even though we've planned it."

"You'll like it better as soon as you've got your hands on that shitty octopus," Bakugou says roughly, and you're somewhat amused to see the light come back into Izuku's face.

"You're not wrong there, Kacchan." Izuku grins fiercely, an expression that's returned by his friends to varying degrees, and despite your nerves, you suddenly feel undoubtedly safe amongst these fearsome and determined faces.

When Izuku turns to you, though, his gaze softens, and he rests a hand on the small of your back. "Are you sure you're okay with this? You can say no at any time and we'll change the plan. This is our job, not yours, and you don't have to do it if you don't want to, okay?"

“Thanks, but I’m sure.” A string of memories flashes through you - the children at the museum, huddled and crying, a woman dangling from squeezing tentacles, her shoe slipping from her foot. “I just want to get the bastard put away for good this time.”

Izuku returns your grim smile, fingers trailing across your back as he takes his hand away and turns to the rest of the table. “So let’s get him.”

~

The next hour flies by in a blur of efficient movement. You feel a little like a child as the heroes swarm around you, getting you ready for what’s to come. Izuku dresses you in a dark bulletproof vest, pulled from one of Uraraka’s many bags. It’s surprisingly lightweight and comfortable - a perk of having access to top support companies, you suppose.

As Izuku zips your hoodie up over it, his hands linger at your collarbones, brushing ever so gently across the small amount of exposed skin there. Everyone else seems to fall out of focus in the background as your breath catches, and Izuku’s gaze is suddenly hot on yours.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” he says quietly. “I won’t stop until this is over for good and you never have to worry about him again, I promise.”

You nod shakily. “I trust you, Izuku. You know that.”

More words hang on the edge of your lips, but you spring apart as Uraraka suddenly appears at your elbow with a cheerful smile. Izuku turns away to hide his face, but you can still see his ears turning pink.

Uraraka, either oblivious to the tender little moment, or ignoring it for the sake of everyone’s dignity, begins hooking you up with a small comms unit in your ear.

“We’re all on the same channel, so don’t worry about how to use it - all of us will be able to hear anything you say, and you’ll hear us back. So we’ll all be there with you, in your ear the whole time, okay?” She pats your shoulder, eyes warm.

Bakugou is remaining at the children’s home, while Kirishima will be on alert to charge in as backup if needed. Izuku had argued that it should be the other way around, since Bakugou’s explosions make him more mobile to get to where he’s needed, but nobody had been able to persuade Bakugou to leave the children, not even with Kirishima promising to protect the home in his stead.

Luckily, Iida had agreed to run to the home, taking everything that the two heroes there might need, and scoping out the area for a good ambush site in the meantime - somewhere close enough to be believable that you would go there by yourself, but deserted enough that other civilians wouldn’t be put in danger.

Once Uraraka is finished, you take yourself off into Izuku’s room for a moment of quiet, sending Inaba and Ueno a message to let them know what is happening, and telling them to keep trusting in Dynamight for now. You don’t think too hard about what’s going to happen - if you let yourself consider it now, the nerves will consume you.

When you come back out into the apartment, you freeze in wonder for a moment. While you were gone, they’d somehow all changed into their hero costumes, and the sight of them all together is undoubtedly impressive. You look down at your own outfit of plain workout clothes and sensible trainers, plus the hidden vest.

“Hm, now I feel a bit underdressed.”

Uraraka laughs gaily, adjusting her boot. “Don’t be silly, that’s exactly how you need to look! You always look cute anyway, right Deku?”

Izuku colours up immediately, shoving her bodily away from him as she giggles, but the smile he gives you is sincere. “Absolutely!”

Todoroki snorts quietly, but there’s the ghost of a smile playing around his mouth as he watches you for your reaction. Trying not to echo Izuku’s embarrassment, you distract yourself by turning to Iida.

“So, have we figured out a good place?”

Iida gives you a courteous nod. “After checking the surrounding area near the home, I have concluded that the best place currently is the beach. It is a large, open stretch of space, and given the inclement weather today, it is currently completely deserted. Plus it’s close enough to the home for Kirishima to get there quickly, if needed.”

You glance at the windows curiously, and sure enough, it is still raining steadily.

Izuku frowns in thought. “I suppose that’s a good enough cover. Fewer people go out in the rain, sure, but it’s still not unreasonable to go running, even in bad weather. I do it myself all the time.”

“Not unreasonable for fitness freaks, maybe,” you mutter, not particularly looking forward to a run in the rain, and Uraraka chokes back a laugh as Izuku shoots you a narrow-eyed look, breaking into a crooked grin as you wink at him cheekily.

“Alright, so we’re going to the beach, then,” Todoroki says. “We’ll have to be careful to find some decent hiding spots, if this is to be an ambush.”

After some quick discussion, it is decided that the heroes will go ahead of you, so they can be ready and in place with plenty of time. Since you need to give Cthulhu a chance to track you, you will take a taxi to the children’s home, and then from there take a bus to the beach. It’s the weakest part of the plan, relying on Cthulhu being too slow, or reluctant, to attack while you’re travelling, and you can see the tension rising in Izuku’s shoulders.

The plan is relayed by phone to Bakugou and Kirishima, who agree without issue. With everything decided on, the heroes begin bustling out of Izuku’s apartment, bidding you cheerful goodbyes and promising that they’ll be with you every step of the way.

Izuku lingers, head bowed and trailing his fingers along the back of the sofa. As soon as all of his friends are out of the door, he is on you, gathering you in close and tucking his face into the crook of your neck. You return the embrace just as fiercely, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing as if you can pull him closer. His hair smells delicious as you press your cheek into his curls.

“God, I wish you weren’t so brave, volunteering yourself for this. I can barely stand it, letting you go out there without me, even though I’ll be nearby,” he whispers against your skin. “Promise me you’ll be careful, and let us do all the fighting, please?”

“I promise,” you murmur back. “I swear, I don’t want to be involved with the fighting, I just want this over with.” You hesitate, but the heady feeling of being wrapped up in each other is enough to boost your courage. “I want… Izuku, I want to finish our conversation from the gala.”

Izuku lets out a shaky breath. “Me too, I want that so much. Can you hold on a little longer for me? Let me make you safe again, and then we can talk and be together as much as we want.”

“Okay.” You close your eyes, wanting to savour this moment as long as possible. “Thank you.”

He pulls back enough to meet your eye, and the sheer amount of emotion in his gaze has you leaning forward to kiss him without hesitation, sighing at the press of his lips against yours.

“You fuckers know we can hear you, right?”

You squawk as Bakugou’s voice suddenly growls in your earpiece, jerking away from Izuku as he reacts with similar shock.

“I didn’t know these things were on yet,” you groan, hearing several voices laughing in response. Izuku bites his lip to hold back his own embarrassed amusement.

“Yeah, well, most of us were trying to give you a moment, Bakugou.” Uraraka sounds disapproving.

“Fucking gross!”

“As if we haven’t seen and heard far worse from you and Kirishima,” Todoroki’s cool voice says, and you can picture the gleam in his mismatched eyes. “I distinctly remember an overnight stakeout a couple of years ago where-”

Several voices speak all at once, drowning out Todoroki mercilessly.

“Shut the fuck up, Icyhot!”

“Aw, c’mon dude, you said you wouldn’t tell!”

“Please, let’s keep the conversation professional!”

Uraraka is cackling, and Izuku finally breaks, laughing as he pulls you into another hug and presses a silent kiss to the side of your head.

“Alright, I’m going now as well,” he says eventually, pulling back and squeezing your hand one last time. “Keep us updated as to where you are until we tell you that you’re in our sights, okay? You can pretend you’re on the phone if you feel awkward talking through the earpiece in public.”

You nod decisively, curling your hands into fists at your side as you watch Izuku leave the apartment, flashing you one last fierce, bright smile.

“Right,” you say to the heroes in your ear. “I’m the bait. So let’s catch us an octopus.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, anyone got any good tricks for dealing with nerves?”

Your journey has been surprisingly easy so far. Your stop at the home had been simple enough, especially with the tight hugs Ueno and Inaba had pulled you into, and the ferocious grin Bakugou had shot you as you’d left. But now, leaving the bus stop and heading towards the beach, you’re starting to feel cold and shaky, and nervous sweat springs out all over your body, mingling with the steady rain.

“Breathing exercises have been proven to reduce stress in the body, which is helpful in managing nerves,” Iida informs you helpfully, and you hear small sounds of amusement from his friends.

“Wow, hot fucking take, Glasses.”

“Babe, be nice! Anyway, I think the best way to deal with nerves is to get super pumped up - get that adrenaline working for you!”

Uraraka hums excitedly. “Agreed, I always feel better before something scary if I can get excited instead!”

“I don’t think nerves are necessarily a bad thing,” Todoroki says, his neutral, calm voice a stark contrast to Kirishima’s energy. “It’s only natural to be nervous before tackling something unknown, isn’t it? You don’t have to repress that.”

“Shouto’s right, it’s okay to be nervous or scared.” Izuku’s voice is like a warm relief, reminding you that he’s right there.

“Deku, if you’re gonna do a whole ‘courage isn’t a lack of fear’ speech, I’m fucking out of here.”

“Kacchan, c’mon!” Izuku’s protest is verging on whiny, and you laugh quietly despite yourself - maybe this banter is a good enough distraction from your nerves.

Breaking into a slow jog, you follow the road to the seafront, your feet crunching the gritty sand that begins to litter the pavement. You round a corner, and the vista opens up into the wide, open stretch of beach. In the distance, you can see grey waves crashing steadily onto the shore, framed by the lowering sky above. Only the old pier further along the shore, and the occasional group of large rocks, break the lines between sand, sea, and sky.

You ignore the seafront walk, knowing you need to get as far away from the shops and buildings as possible, even if they are currently deserted. Concrete steps lead you down onto the beach itself, darkened by the pattering rain, and suddenly the jogging becomes that much harder as your feet dig into the sand with each step.

“One day I’ll come here when it’s not raining and some kind of emergency,” you mutter unsteadily, breathless from the exercise.

“Are you at the beach now?” Izuku’s voice sharpens, and you feel his focus honing in. “Does anyone have visuals yet?”

“Hey, Cake,” Uraraka says, an audible smile in her voice. “I see you, sweetie! Go on and head a little closer towards the waterline, and then keep going along the beach, okay? I’m watching you now.”

You wonder faintly where she’s hidden, but restrain your urge to look - if Cthulhu is indeed lurking, you don’t want to give the heroes’ presence away.

Following Uraraka’s directions, your skin begins to crawl with every step you take away from the solid security of the seafront wall behind you. You feel exposed, a lone figure on a vast expanse of sand, wind, and rain, and have to focus on your movements to keep them casual.

“I have visuals.” Iida’s professional voice cuts through your thoughts, and is followed swiftly by Todoroki’s simple confirmation.

“Me too.”

“There you are, I see you,” Izuku says finally, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders with the warmth of his voice. “Okay, we’ve got you.”

“Oh, good,” you pant. “Does that mean I can stop running for a bit? Running on sand kind of feels like I’m going to die at any second.”

Laughter echoes through the comms, distracting your nerves just as you’d hoped it would; the sound of their voices makes you feel less alone on the windswept stretch of sand.

“Of course you can,” Izuku says, sounding amused. “Take your time and do whatever you would normally do if you were exercising by yourself, okay?”

Talking to Izuku is so distractingly reassuring that you almost nod your agreement, but manage to stop yourself at the last second. Slowing your pace to a walk, you use your sleeve to wipe rainwater off your forehead. Normally you’d feel painfully self-conscious exercising in front of four heroes all focussed on watching you, but right now, their attention is a comfort.

“So, uh, how does this work?” you ask, throwing your arms into a rough stretch. “Do we think Cthulhu will just randomly approach me, or something?”

Izuku hums thoughtfully. “We don’t know for sure, but I have a theory.”

“What’s new,” Bakugou grumbles.

“So, my theory is based on his quirk,” Izuku says, completely ignoring Bakugou’s interjection. “There’s very little detail about Cthulhu on the official quirk register, probably on purpose, but given that it is a tentacle quirk, I wondered whether it is actually octopus based, in which case he might be willing to approach from the water. That way, he’d feel like he has the upper hand in terms of surprise.”

You blink a smear of water out of your eye, unsure of whether it is sweat or rain. “But if I’m at the water’s edge, won’t I be really far away from you guys?”

“You forget that at least two of us have quirks that make us incredibly fast,” Iida breaks in. “And Todoroki’s ice can cover distance very quickly, too. We have purposely spread ourselves out across this whole area, so as to have the best chances of one of us reaching you immediately.”

You sigh, exasperated at yourself for forgetting exactly how fast both Izuku and Iida are. “Of course, I’m sorry for doubting you. I’m just kind of nervous.”

“You don’t need to be sorry for anything, what you’re doing is incredibly brave!” Izuku says fiercely, and the resulting murmurs of agreement from the others has your cheeks burning even under the chilly rain. “Now, keep going along the shore like you are, and head towards that old pier; that's where I'd make a move if I was a villain."

You obediently start jogging again, feet churning up wet sand as you plough across the distance. The sand here is firmer, smoothed by the high tide, and you leave clear footprints as you run.

Rain hammers steadily down on you, and your clothes are slowly becoming plastered to your skin. Despite the heat of exercising burning in your muscles and lungs, you are starting to feel chilled, your fingers clammy and cold.

The pier looms ahead. It's a rickety old structure, a forest of wooden struts leading out into the water, topped by a rotten boardwalk and several small, decrepit buildings that were once ice cream stalls and sheltered seating. The pier has been closed for years, and you've heard that there are petitions to tear it down. Now, seeing the dark structure of it marring the smooth sweep of the beach, you understand why.

The others have fallen quiet, watching and waiting as you push onwards. Izuku occasionally voices his encouragement, but otherwise, your ears are filled with rain, wind, and the crashing waves.

You're about twenty feet away from the bristling columns of the pier, planning to run under the damp structure, when the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. Paranoia creeps over your skin, and your pace picks up unconsciously, like the panic of running up stairs after turning the light off at night.

"Izuku, I feel weird," you mutter through heaving breaths.

"Okay, it's alright. Weird how? Can you describe it further?" Izuku's answer is immediate, his voice focused and intent.

"I don't know," you say, fighting the urge to break into a sprint. "I feel scared, but not like I did earlier. Feels kind of like I'm being watc-"

Your words break off with a guttural grunt as the sand in front of you heaves upwards, bulging and breaking as shining black flesh whips around your ankles. Suckers fasten around your flesh, yanking your feet from under you. All the air is driven from your body as you topple and slam onto the ground. Your mouth gapes open, winded with impact and sudden terror.

There’s no time to speak before a tentacle tightens around your ankle. You scrabble uselessly at the sand as you’re dragged forcibly into the air, heaving in a desperate breath of oxygen.

Your mind reels as the world turns upside down, and you see the writhing mass of tentacles in front of you. Cthulhu. He rises from the sand, an eldritch abomination of suckers and flesh, tentacles unfurling like loathsome petals until the human body within is revealed.

The hooded face turns to you. “Hello, little hero worshipper.”

His voice is raspy, familiar. Horror shudders along your skin. You start thrashing, limbs flailing as you dangle helplessly in the tentacle’s grasp. Pain flashes from your ankle, where the suckers grip your skin mercilessly. Your throat constricts around the start of a scream, and then your vision is filled with green.

Izuku.

One for All crackles as he draws his fist back with a wordless cry of fury and slams it into the tentacle holding you. The dark flesh buckles and spasms, flinging you to the ground as Cthulhu howls in rage and pain.

For an instant, you’re falling, but then strong arms snag you out of the air, and Izuku is holding you tight against him as he lands his jump in a shock of sand and wind. Immediately, he drops to his knees, cradling you in his lap with one arm as the other hand pats at you frantically.

“Oh god, are you hurt? Please, tell me you’re okay-” The sheer terror in Izuku’s face freezes your body in an instinctual panic response. You’ve never seen him like this, never seen him so scared. “He touched you, oh god, he had you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t quicker, I-”

“I’m okay,” you gasp, burying your hands in the front of his hero costume. “I’m fine, I’m okay, I’m not hurt.” Your ankle stings where the tentacle had held you, but Izuku’s face is too pale with fear to tell him that right now.

“Deku!” The sudden shout startles both of you, and you whip around to see Iida and Uraraka between you and Cthulhu, fighting fiercely with tentacles that boil towards them. Neither hero is getting hit, too deft with their attacks and dodges, but they have yet to get past the tentacles to land an attack on Cthulhu’s human body.

Uraraka’s teeth are bared as she soars weightlessly into the air. “What are you doing?! Get out of here, follow the plan!” Releasing her quirk, she spins into a powerful, gravity-fed heel kick aimed at a large tentacle, crushing it to the ground.

Izuku starts, lifting you back into his arms as if you weigh nothing, but as he pushes back up to his feet, Todoroki materialises at his elbow.

“Ingenium, Uravity, jump!”

At the sound of Todoroki’s snapped command, they move as one, leaping into the air as Uraraka smacks her hand on Iida’s arm. Todoroki stamps forward and ice flashes across the ground, blasting a wave of cold air as it grows, encasing Cthulhu up to his neck faster than you can blink.

Uraraka releases herself and Iida to the ground, careful not to slip on the now icy surface.

“Got him,” Todoroki says with a hint of satisfaction, then turns to frown at Izuku. “What were you doing? The plan was to immediately get both of you as far away as possible for safety.”

Izuku squeezes you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat hammering under your fingers, still clutched in his costume. “Sorry, I panicked,” he says hoarsely. “I thought he’d hurt-”

The sound of hacking laughter cuts Izuku off, and you all turn to see Cthulhu, head thrown back with mirth.

“Be quiet, villain!” Iida says sharply. “You’re defeated. You can’t hurt anyone now, today or ever again.”

Cthulhu just laughs harder, and your breath stills in your chest as his hooded face turns to stare directly at you.

“Well done, little lamb,” he wheezes. “You performed your task admirably.”

“Don’t you dare to speak to-” Uraraka starts furiously, but her words are drowned out as Cthulhu carries on, even as the sound of his own chattering teeth punctuates his speech.

“Did you really all think I was here for one worthless citizen? No, no. Why would I seek revenge on one little ant, when I could have the great heroes themselves? So while this little sycophant has been so kindly collecting you heroes for me, I have been making friends of my own. Isn’t that right, Betrayal?”

You flinch as a lean figure suddenly drops from a support beam under the pier and moves to stand in front of Cthulhu, raising a hand in a two-fingered salute. He is tall and slender, with a shock of grey hair and an unconcerned grin.

“Yo! Nice to meet you all. Let’s see what these quirks can do, huh?” he says, and before anyone can react, a pulse of light flashes from his eyes, washing over you all.

For an instant there is silence.

Then Iida howls in pain, and all hell breaks loose.

Izuku shudders violently, his hands spasming and clutching at you painfully.

“Fuck-” he gasps. “Run!”

You grasp for him, terrified at what the light has done, but before you can speak, Izuku suddenly hurls you away from him with a wretched cry.

You fly across the sand and slam into something solid, all the air driven out of your body with the crushing force of being thrown. Pain blossoms across your back, and you flop to the ground bonelessly, head spinning.

There’s sand under your cheek, grinding into your skin as you struggle to pull a breath in, tears blurring your vision. For a single, horrifying moment, you’re blind and deaf, ears ringing as your mouth opens in a silent rictus of a gasp.

Then you finally manage a small sip of air, and another, until your lungs are blessedly full of oxygen. Everything hurts. You scrabble to your hands and knees, retching with the sheer shock and pain of the impact on your body. The solidness you’d hit is one of the wooden legs of the pier, you realise.

Lifting your head weakly, you dash tears from your eyes and desperately seek out your friends, looking past the ice-covered mound that is Cthulhu, and the lean figure of Betrayal in front of him. A moan of terror escapes you before you manage to clamp a hand over your mouth.

Whatever that light did, it is torturing them.

Iida is thrashing on the ground, clutching at his legs as his engines burn red-hot, a sick stream of smoke rising from his flesh. Every time he tries to rise, his legs kick out from under him, engines blasting him into the sand as fresh smoke sizzles from his calves.

Next to him, Uraraka is lying horribly still, and as your blurry eyes focus on her, you see that she is pressed unnaturally flat to the ground, as if the very air is pushing down on her, crushing her slowly. Her eyes are wide and blank, staring at the sky as her mouth opens and closes silently. Tears are rolling down into her hair.

Todoroki is standing lopsidedly, his right side encased in slick, shining ice as his left limbs flail helplessly. Bile rises in your throat as you see the unmistakable black of frostbite on his right fingertips. His left hand is lit up with blue flame, but it does nothing to melt the ice and free him, and the anguish on his face tells you that it is burning him.

And then your eyes drag across to Izuku, hardly able to look for fear of what you’ll find.

Izuku is on his hands and knees, body shuddering and heaving. He flings his head back, face creased into a mask of pain. As you watch, his muscles begin to writhe along his limbs, bubbling and bulging unnaturally. Black tendrils of power burst from him, tightening around his flesh and constricting, then thrashing out around him in a wild halo of violence. Izuku’s teeth are bared and bloody, mouth open in a cry you can’t hear.

You turn and heave onto the sand, retching violently until you can hardly breathe.

As you gasp for more air, the ringing in your ears finally begins to clear. Your hearing fills with tortured cries of pain, and you’re only able to stop yourself from heaving again because there is one other sound, like a lifeline in your ear - the comms unit.

“Katsuki, they’re not answering. Oh god, all that screaming,” Kirishima’s panicked voice is saying, breath already coming fast, as if he’s running. “Guys, what’s happening?!”

You shuffle behind the pillar, hoping the villains won’t hear you. Maybe they’ll forget you’re here at all.

“Kirishima,” you croak. “Don’t come, please. Too dangerous, the light, it- it’s hurting them, I-”

“Oi, slow down.” Bakugou’s voice is rough and steady. “What light? What happened, why is everyone screaming?”

“We got Cthulhu trapped, but he had another villain with him. Some kind of light came out of his eyes, and now all of their quirks-” You stop to muffle a sob in your hand. “I think their quirks are hurting them. They’re hurting so bad, Kacchan. What do I do?”

Kirishima groans in pained frustration, clearly aching to help. “I’m so close, are you sure I can’t come?”

“Fuck,” Bakugou says, and then he inhales sharply. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. Ei, call for backup. Tell the police to send forces without quirks if possible. They’re already on standby in the area, it shouldn’t take them long.”

“Got it. Switching off comms while I make the call.” Kirishima’s voice vanishes with a smart click.

“Alright, it's just you and me now,” Bakugou says, the growl of his voice dropping even lower.

"Kacchan, please, tell me how to help them, I don't know how long they can stand this," you gasp, fingers trembling in the sand.

"Stay right where you are," Bakugou snaps, and then he softens just slightly. "Listen, those nerds are strong as shit, and Deku will kill me if anything happens to you."

He's trying to reassure you, but his voice is tight, and you know he can hear their suffering just as well as you can. As you listen, you peer around the pillar and glance again at the horrifying scene.

When your eyes fix on Izuku, still writhing in agony as his muscles boil under his skin, a strange calm steals over you. You can't let him be hurt anymore.

"I'm gonna help," you breathe absently.

“No! Stay put, damnit!”

You’re already crawling across the sand, gritting your teeth against the throb of the bruising you can feel already forming across your back. Bakugou is ranting in your ear, demanding you respond, but it does nothing to deter you; Izuku is hurting. Rain hammers onto your skin as soon as you move out from under the pier, slicking your shirt to your back.

Urgency pounds through your body, filling your throat with a silent sob every time one of your friends makes a fresh sound of distress.

The iceberg encasing Cthulhu serves as a useful shield as you move, hiding your progress from the villains’ view as you approach them from behind. You stop as you reach the edge of it, the slick surface glistening wetly over the black, suckered flesh faintly visible within. Leaning back against the ice, you breathe hard.

“Oi, you still with me?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I’m behind Cthulhu. I have to try and do something to distract Betrayal. Maybe his quirk will stop if he can’t concentrate. I have to at least try.”

Bakugou growls frustratedly. “I can’t stop you, so just tell me the situation.”

You peek around the edge. “Cthulhu’s in Todoroki’s ice, I think he’s stuck for now. I’m hiding behind him, and Betrayal is standing in front, between me and the others. They’re all on the floor, or immobilised. Betrayal is… He’s-” Your breath catches on a furious sob. “He’s laughing, Kacchan.”

“That sick motherfucker.” Bakugou’s voice is filled with venom. “Alright, if you’re gonna do this then your best bet is to get as close as possible, and then fight dirty. Kick him in the balls, scratch him, punch him in the throat, anything you can think of. Don’t hold back. It’s you or him, got it?”

You hear the reluctance in his words, not wanting to encourage your actions, but still desperate to help somehow.

“Thanks,” you whisper, cringing as Iida howls anew, a fresh wave of smoke rising from his calves. “I’m going now.”

"Be fucking careful. Even without an effective quirk, he could be dangerous. Run away if you have to."

"Yeah," you say, but you know you won't run away. Not while Izuku and the others need you. Not while their pain fills your ears. You clench two fistfuls of sand in your hands.

Clambering up onto shaky legs, you lurch forward determinedly.

You skirt around the edge of the ice, using the bulk of Cthulhu's frozen body to hide your approach for as long as possible. Your limbs buzz with fear, but there's something else now, too. Something powering you to move forward without hesitation; indignant rage.

Betrayal is standing in the same spot, still looking out over your friends and chuckling. His smile doesn't waver even as you come into the open, only a few feet away from him. At Cthulhu’s hoarse warning, he looks over his shoulder, eyes and smile widening as he spots you.

You keep moving, staggering step by step until you’re between him and the others. Now that you’re closer, you see that Uraraka’s lips are turning blue, and you can smell burning flesh in the air. Izuku is just a writhing heap of bulging limbs and dark tendrils.

You turn your back on them, facing Betrayal. If nothing else, maybe you can use your body as a shield.

“Ng- No!” Someone gasps behind you, but you can’t tell who it is, their voice too thick with pain.

Betrayal watches your progress, seeming unconcerned as he taps his chin with one hand.

"Ah, come back for more, have we? Must be a weak quirk, if you're still able to walk! No matter, a little more should do the trick. You’re going to owe me more for this, Cthulhu."

He grins lazily, and another pulse of light ripples over you.

"Idiot!" Cthulhu hisses. "Did you forget? That one is-"

"Utterly quirkless," you finish, and lunge forward as Betrayal's smile finally falters.

Fight dirty, Bakugou had said. Your arms swing in two wild arcs, releasing the sand still clutched in both your fists. Betrayal cries out in sudden rage, recoiling as sand sprays across his face, filling his eyes with grit.

Terror and sheer, blinding rage bellow from you in a battlecry as you coil your arm back and slam it into his face. Pain lances from your knuckles as the punch connects. You feel a satisfying, sick crunch, and Betrayal gives a guttural scream.

He staggers back, blood streaming from his nose. You dive after him, desperation to protect your friends driving you forward. Tucking one shoulder, you barrel into him with as much force as you can muster. Betrayal topples to the ground with a grunt of impact, and you throw yourself after him, trying to pin him down.

“Turn off the quirk!” You raise your fist, ready to pound him into the sand, but Betrayal is faster.

His fist pummels into your stomach, and you double over, retching. Instantly, your positions are reversed as Betrayal bodily rolls you both. He rises over you, pinning your arms with his knees. Blood drips off his chin, spattering onto your cheek. You struggle furiously, terror tightening your throat.

Betrayal rears back with one arm, and throws his body weight into a slap across your face. Your head whips to the side, ears ringing and vision splintering from the blow. Sharp, hot pain streaks across your cheek, and you realise he’s drawn blood - he must be wearing a ring.

“You’re being very difficult,” he drawls, spitting blood onto the sand as you try to blink the fractured blackness out of your eyes. He leans down, face twisting venomously. “A little quirkless worm like you should just give up already.”

“Fuck you!” you spit, and blindly headbutt his face.

It hurts. The crack of hard bone against your forehead has you momentarily dazed, but you hear Betrayal’s grunt of pain and know he’s worse off. His weight on you falters.

Squinting up, you see Betrayal clutching at his face and gasping. Knowing this is your chance, you struggle to free yourself, but he’s taller than you, and surprisingly heavy. Heaving with desperation, you thrash wildly.

Just as you free one arm, a figure materialises behind him, all spiky, red hair and a flash of sharp teeth; Kirishima. Fresh panic fills your limbs with energy - you can’t let Kirishima be struck by Betrayal’s quirk.

“No!” You free your second arm, reaching up, but Kirishima strikes like a thunderclap, his hardened hand delivering a neat, merciless blow to Betrayal’s skull.

Betrayal’s eyes roll back in his head, and he slumps over you, completely limp.

Immediately, Kirishima is pulling him off, rolling his unconscious body away as he leans over you, red eyes bright with worry.

“Are you okay?! You fought him so hard-”

“Help the others,” you say, gripping the shoulder gears of his costume to pull yourself up to sitting. “We have to help them!”

Kirishima lifts you bodily to your feet, one strong arm supporting you effortlessly. Your gaze rakes across the sand, but as you take in the scene before you, your knees sag with relief.

The beach swarms with people, police and paramedics running to surround your friends so thickly that you can barely see them. Betrayal’s limp body is already being restrained on a stretcher, and you see Cthulhu’s hooded face sagging in defeat as police approach his frozen form. You’d been so intent in your fight that you hadn’t even heard backup approaching.

“They’re being helped, see? It’s okay now,” Kirishima says, his voice warm and firm. “Everything’s okay now!”

“Izuku?” You can barely speak past the fear in your voice. All you want is to run to Izuku, drop down beside him, and feel his body alive under your hands, but Kirishima’s arm is firm around you, and the paramedics are blocking your way.

“Midoriya’s going to be just fine, you know he’s super strong! He’ll just need a bit of TLC from the doctors, and some rest.” Kirishima sees you opening your mouth, and hurries on with his reassurances. “And everyone else will be okay too, I promise! The police told me that they’ve been after Betrayal for a while - apparently his quirk is like torture while it’s working, but it only causes lasting damage when used over a long period of time. They’re just a bit beat up, is all. Nothing we haven’t dealt with before!”

You clutch at him, unashamedly leaning on his strength as your breath hitches in a relieved sob. He folds you into a hug, gentle despite his size and strength. Leaning into him weakly, you repeat his reassurances to yourself like a silent mantra - Izuku will be fine, everyone is going to be okay. Everyone is safe now.

The sudden sound of explosions makes you jolt against him, but Kirishima just turns to the sky with a knowing smile.

With one last blast, Bakugou drops down in front of you without any warning, his burning eyes taking in the scene and then scanning you up and down. He scowls at the blood smeared across your face, and then breaks into a vicious grin.

“You did good, nerd.”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks, and you throw yourself at Bakugou, clamping him in a tight hug that has him grunting in surprise. He just about manages to pat awkwardly at your shoulder, his gauntlets hampering the movements.

“Oi, save it for Deku, yeah?” Bakugou grumbles, but he makes no move to push you away, and you hear Kirishima chuckling behind you.

You finally pull back, swiping at your cheeks, and then hiss at the fresh throb of pain in your sore knuckles.

“Hey, we should get you to a paramedic,” Kirishima says, frowning in sudden concern. “You got pretty bashed up in that fight.”

You nod, hoping they have some decent painkillers available. Kirishima takes your arm gently, and the two heroes fall into step on either side of you, walking you up the beach to where some ambulances have been parked.

“At least you got him as good as he got you,” Bakugou says, side-eyeing you with a smirk.

You grin at him, ignoring the stab of pain from your cheek. “Pretty sure I broke his nose.”

Kirishima pumps his free arm in a celebratory fist. “Hell yeah!”

“And you’re sure Izuku will be okay? And the others?”

“Ask him yourself.” Bakugou jerks his chin towards the open doors of the nearest ambulance, and you look up to see Izuku being pushed back down onto a gurney as he struggles to sit up, head turning to you.

With a strangled gasp of urgency, you tear out of Kirishima’s grasp, slipping past the paramedics and clambering up into the vehicle. Izuku is pale, trembling where he lies, but his concerned eyes latch onto you unerringly, and oh god you’d been so afraid for him.

“Izuku!” You stumble to his side, hands hovering over him, scared to touch and hurt him. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. “I’m sorry I wasn’t faster, he hurt you so much.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ve had much worse,” Izuku says, and his voice is so scratchy it makes you tear up. “Are you okay?! You were fighting, I heard you, you fought him! You were so brave, god, are you hurt?”

He’s strapped onto the gurney, but his arm bends at the elbow, fumbling a shaking hand out to reach for you. You take his hand in yours, feeling the familiar scars and calluses, and feeling the sheer warmth and aliveness of him against your skin. Izuku is gazing up at you, face still full of worry.

“I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” you mumble, and then suddenly the overwhelming nature of the situation is all too much. Izuku’s eyes widen as he sees you sway on the spot, and his sharp shout of concern has a paramedic at your shoulder immediately, holding you steady as a wave of dizziness washes over you.

Your ears are ringing again, but you distantly hear Izuku arguing with the paramedic, and then his warm hands are at your elbows, pulling you onto the gurney with him as he sits up. Izuku gathers you in close, hands stroking you unsteadily.

“Hey, it’s okay now,” he murmurs. “We’re all okay. You did so well, you were so brave and clever, but you can relax now, okay? Everybody’s safe.”

Safe. Everybody’s safe.

You had known it, had seen the police taking Betrayal away and dealing with Cthulhu, but somehow you hadn’t felt it until now, hearing Izuku’s voice say it so tenderly. Swallowing hard, you creep your arms around him, brushing your fingers across the muscles of his back, careful to be gentle. Izuku’s shaking against you, a small, uncontrollable tremor through his muscles, but he hums in quiet joy as you return his embrace, and his lips brush against your temple in a soft kiss.

The paramedics give you a moment, but eventually they tell you firmly that Izuku needs to be taken to hospital, and that you should follow along afterwards to get seen to, as well.

“I’ll see you at the hospital, okay?” Izuku says, dotting another kiss against your cheekbone. “Kacchan, Kirishima? Can you-”

“Yeah! We’ll be right behind you, man.”

You startle at Kirishima’s voice, and turn to see both him and Bakugou hovering just outside the ambulance. Kirishima is grinning widely at you and Izuku as Bakugou rolls his eyes and jerks his chin at you.

“C’mon nerd, we gotta get you to the hospital as well.”

You turn back to Izuku. “I’ll see you there,” you tell him firmly, not sure if you’re reassuring him or yourself.

Pressing a kiss to the back of his hand, you give Izuku a tremulous smile that he returns without hesitation. Your fingers brush along each other as you reluctantly stand up, prolonging the contact for as long as possible before you finally step away.

The paramedics begin to shut the ambulance up, and you give Izuku one last wave as the doors are closed.

Kirishima takes your arm again, and you let yourself be guided into a fresh ambulance without protest. Paramedics ask you questions, and you answer absently, focussed on memorising the feel of Izuku’s hand in yours, and the sweet, shaky smile he’d given you.

He’s alive. He’s okay.

Your body aches all over, with sharper pain pulsing at various points that make you wince as you clamber up onto your own gurney. Exhaustion is starting to settle like lead in your limbs, only made heavier by the weight of your relief. You don’t realise you’re crying until the paramedic presses a tissue into your hand with a kind smile.

Cthulhu - and Betrayal - are finally gone. You’re safe again, and though they’d been hurt, so are Izuku and your friends.

As the ambulance trundles off, joining the fleet on its way to the hospital, you let the tears come, washing away the terror and leaving behind only the anticipation of when you can next hold Izuku’s hand in yours, and feel his warm smile like sunlight on your face.

Chapter Text

The hospital smells like it always does - ripe with sharp cleaning fluids, long nights, and tired bodies.

Izuku breathes it in, a too familiar scent that is both comforting and makes his skin itch with the need to be gone; too many days and nights, or sometimes even weeks, spent in a hospital bed has left him with a feeling of being trapped every time he returns.

Everything hurts. Pain on this scale is not new to Izuku by any means, but he has never felt it in quite this way before. His body hurts, with his muscles burning like fire, but more than that, his quirk hurts. One for All has been a part of him for so many years now that it's like an extension of his body, and he feels it aching deep inside, overstretched and wounded.

Even worse is the ache of wondering - where are you, and are you okay? Izuku's heart breaks everytime he thinks about the jagged scratch on your swollen cheek, your split, blood-smeared knuckles, and the bruises already forming like storm clouds across your skin. You had been hurt - you had fought for Izuku, for all of them, and they'd done nothing to help you.

His hands curl into fists around the thin hospital blanket, squeezing hard.

The nurse fiddling with his IV bag gives him a concerned glance, but says nothing. Izuku tries to give him a reassuring smile, but it feels wrong on his face, and the nurse just pats him on the hand before leaving the room in silence.

Izuku is waiting. Waiting for you, for any of his friends, to be returned to him.

The doctors had confirmed that the quirk had done little actual harm to his body, mostly causing temporary damage to his muscles. A specialist with some sort of muscle quirk - Izuku dearly wishes he'd had a chance to ask more about it - had repaired the strain and tearing on his muscle fibres, and then given Izuku strict instructions to rest and let his body and quirk recover from the shock.

So all that is left now is to practice patience, and float in the awful liminal space that is waiting for news about loved ones.

The first to appear is Shouto, wheeled into the shared ward and parked next to Izuku without any prior warning. The hospital knows by now that anyone from their infamous Class A should be put in the same room together, since they always recover better with each other's company, and so the staff don't bother closing the privacy curtains as they maneuver Shouto into the neighbouring bed.

Izuku perks up immediately, gladness filling him at the sight of at least one of his friends. Shouto looks strained but otherwise okay, he thinks, after studying him carefully. His silky hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, looking as limp as Izuku feels, but the expression on his face is calm.

"Shouto!" Izuku says croakily, throat still sore from the strain of screaming. "Are you okay? Did you get burned?"

He waits until the last nurse leaves the room, then immediately slips out of his bed and hobbles the scant distance to Shouto's side, IV trailing behind him.

"Yeah," Shouto gives him a wry look. "I got both burns and frostbite, actually. But they have someone here who can accelerate healing, so it's pretty much better now." He tucks his long legs up, sitting cross-legged in a wordless invitation that Izuku accepts immediately, clambering up to sit in front of his friend gratefully. He bumps his knee against Shouto's, and is rewarded with a small smile.

Shouto inquires about Izuku’s injuries, and is reassured by his promises that everything’s alright. They sit in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, and after a while, the initial joy of seeing that Shouto is okay starts to wear off. Izuku feels himself sagging where he sits, the energy draining out of him as the waiting suddenly becomes heavy again.

Why is it taking so long? You hadn’t been that badly injured, surely? Izuku clenches his fists in his hospital pyjamas as a flash of memories rolls over him; the feeling of your body leaving his arms as he’d literally thrown you across the beach, and the sound of your breathing coming harshly as you’d fought against Betrayal, one person standing alone to defend four heroes against a villain. You - the most precious thing in his life - had faced up to true danger, and Izuku had been able to do nothing to help you.

“What’s the matter?”

Izuku jerks as Shouto’s voice pierces the haze of his thoughts. “Ah! What’s that? Nothing’s the matter, I’m just a bit worn out, I think. Haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast, either,” he says, forcing out a laugh, but Shouto just regards him evenly, brushing back a damp lock of red hair.

“Izuku. We’ve had much worse days than this. In fact, we have worse fights than this on a weekly basis, and they don’t normally leave you looking so upset. What’s wrong?”

Shouto’s eyes bore into him, steady and waiting, and Izuku sighs. It’s always been hard to hide things from Shouto. As soon as they’d become friends, he’d been watching Izuku, picking up on all the small things he said or did, and developing a kind of sixth sense for when he was upset.

Izuku bumps his knee against his friend’s again, enjoying the comfort of his solid presence.

“I…” he stares at his hands, feeling an unusual struggle for the right words. “Is this what I have to offer to anyone who gets close to me? Villain fights and letter threats, and even the damn media at our throats?” He feels a familiar prickle in his eyes, and hurries on before the tears can rise up in his throat. “Shouto, how can I justify letting someone into my life when they’ll just always be in greater danger because of me? How can I even consider having a relationship when I’ll just be risking the one person I care about most?”

Shouto stares at him, and Izuku is taken aback by the stark disbelief in his friend’s face.

“You can’t be serious.”

“What? Shouto, I’m deadly serious. I’m more serious about this than I have been about anything in a long time.”

Now it is Izuku’s turn to stare in disbelief as Shouto rolls his eyes dramatically.

“Come on, Izuku. I’m sitting right here, the literal proof of how wrong you are.” Shouto’s mouth quirks into a lopsided smile. “Did you forget? I spent my whole life living under Endeavor’s roof, and the only danger I was ever in was from Endeavor himself. Oh, and my mother, of course.” He gestures casually to his scarred eye, long fingers graceful for such a careless gesture. “Pro Heroes can have relationships and families, Izuku. Did you forget about Eri? She’s always been safer since Aizawa and Present Mic took her in, hasn't she? And you told me yourself about Rock Lock and how devoted he is to his wife and children. Sure, maybe there’s a slightly bigger chance of running into villains, but I think the potential good outweighs the potential bad, don’t you?”

Izuku feels a tear running down his cheek, and brushes it away irritably, still intent on his friend’s expression. Shouto is not the type to offer meaningless comfort, so Izuku knows he can trust his words, but he still finds himself searching his familiar face for reassurance anyway. He immediately finds it in the way Shouto’s gaze softens as he watches him, and in the subtle tilt of his head, waiting patiently for the conclusion of Izuku’s thoughts.

“You’re right,” Izuku says finally, and the truth in the words has them both relaxing. “Of course you’re right, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it like that.”

“That’s easy! It’s because you don’t want Cake to get hurt even a tiny bit, and your worry makes your brain go crazy, right?” a chirpy voice cuts in from the doorway, and Izuku immediately feels one more piece of his heart return to where it should be.

"Uraraka! Have you seen Tenya as well?" Izuku's pulse picks up as his thoughts flash right back to you. "Or-"

"Cake? Sorry Deku, I haven't seen or heard anything! I've been in with the doctors this whole time, though, so that's no reason to worry." Uraraka pulls a face as she walks in the door, looking surprisingly peppy, and plops herself next to Izuku on the end of Shouto's bed. "Apparently I'm fine, except that I've now got a severe case of cleithrophobia to work through."

Shouto frowns. "What's that? Are you sick?"

"Cleithrophobia is the fear of being trapped, apparently!" Uraraka says brightly, but her lip trembles a little. Worried, Izuku takes her hand, and she holds it tightly, almost painfully. "Guess that's what being crushed by gravity itself will do to a girl."

"Oh, Ochako, I’m sorry,” Izuku says, squeezing her hand. He’s thrown off by seeing the ever steady Uraraka so shaken, and has to school his face to hide the wave of concern and sympathy that rises up in him - he knows that Uraraka doesn’t like to linger on her weaknesses, and that she would prefer to step forward into the fight than linger in self-pity. “That bastard, turning your gravity against you. Don’t worry, we’ll get through this together, we're here for you!”

Shouto nods. “I'll give you my therapist’s number,” he offers, and Uraraka gives them both a wide, wobbly smile.

“Thanks, guys.”

The conversation fades out into quiet waiting, and Izuku finds himself holding on to Uraraka’s hand to take comfort, just as much to give it.

Where are you?

He’s been in hospital enough to know that going searching for you won’t help - there’s too many rooms, and the staff know him well enough to rally against his questions, sending him back to bed to rest. One for All twinges inside him, like an overtaxed limb that’s still itching to be used.

Eventually, Tenya is wheeled into the room, looking as exhausted as Shouto. The burns caused by his engines have been healed in the same way as Shouto’s, and at the sight of his tired but calm face, Izuku feels one more piece of the puzzle slot into place. All of his friends are okay - or at least, they will be. Now Izuku just needs you.

Every time footsteps sound outside the ward, Izuku’s heart quickens, and he has to let out a silent sigh each time it turns out to be a member of staff, or a hospital visitor.

Then he hears a very familiar stomping of boots, and before he knows it, Izuku is sliding off Shouto’s bed, grabbing his IV stand as he stares expectantly at the door.

Sure enough, Kacchan materialises in the doorway, face thunderous under the pushed up fabric of his hero mask. Izuku feels a frisson go through his body, knowing that where Kacchan goes, Kirishima would be near. And he had asked them both to look after you.

“Kacchan! Is everything okay? Where is-”

“What the FUCK were you thinking, Deku?!”

Izuku recoils. He’s not scared of Kacchan’s ire - he hasn’t been for many years now, if he ever really was - but this is not what he was expecting. Kacchan looks furious, hunched forward like his fury is constricting all of his muscles. He storms over, leaning into Izuku’s space so that Izuku can practically feel the heat of his temper on his own skin.

“What?”

“We had a plan, shitty nerd! Villain shows up, you grab the civilian and immediately get to fucking safety while the other nerds take care of the fight. What’s the point of making a plan if you don’t follow it, huh, Deku?! You put both of your lives in danger, when you could’ve been halfway down the beach and safe already!” Kacchan stops, heaving for breath, his eyes incandescent with rage.

Izuku is frozen, guilt snaking like ice through his veins. He’d been so consumed by the general worry of you being hurt during the fight that he’d not had time to face up to the horrible reality; if he had followed through on the plan, you wouldn’t have been there to be hurt at all, and Izuku would have been able to provide support to his friends, instead of you having to fight for them.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, and then turns to look desperately at the others, who are watching with varying levels of concern and confusion. “I’m so sorry! Kacchan’s right, I let the team down by not following through on the plan. Uraraka, Shouto, you even told me that at the time, and I still didn’t react.” Izuku turns back to Kacchan, bathing himself in the fire of his righteous anger. “I just got so worried, I was so scared that Cthulhu had-” His throat chokes up, and he has to swallow hard, trying not to fixate on the image of you dangling in the tentacle’s grip. “I was so scared, Kacchan, I couldn’t think properly.”

Kacchan’s lip curls derisively. “Yeah? Well you’d better fucking fix that before the next time we team up, ‘cause I won’t have you putting us all-”

“Bakugou.” Shouto’s voice cuts through the air sharply. “That’s enough. Izuku knows the mistake he made, and we’ve all forgiven him for it already.” His face is stony, but there’s a light in his eyes that Izuku recognises as temper. Gratitude wells up in Izuku, both for his friend’s defence, and for the statement of forgiveness. Izuku wishes he could pardon himself that easily.

Uraraka shuffles on the bed, making herself more comfortable as she leans back on her hands with a grin. “It’s okay, Shouto, Bakugou isn’t really mad.”

“Hah?! How the fuck am I not mad, Round Face?! I’m furious!”

Kacchan stomps past Izuku to lean over her threateningly, but Uraraka just beams up at him. “Nope! You’re not mad,” she says, unconcerned. “You were just worried, right? Worried about Izuku, and Cake, and maybe the rest of us too!” She looks past Kacchan to catch Izuku’s gaze, and gives him a wink. “That’s how he shows his love, right, Deku?”

Kacchan bristles, but before he can spit back there’s movement in the corridor, and Kirishima’s tall, muscled form is suddenly filling the doorway. He grins at the room at large, giving Uraraka a particularly wide smile.

“Aw, Uraraka! You know him so well! Glad to see you're all doing okay, guys!”

Kacchan immediately stalks over to Kirishima, already on a new tirade. As Kirishima steps forward to swing a large arm around Kacchan’s shoulders, laughing as he hardens against a small barrage of explosions, he exposes the doorway.

And suddenly there you are, standing hesitantly in the threshold, looking exhausted and dishevelled, but alive and safe, and so very, very beautiful.

Izuku’s breath catches, and then he’s moving, gathering you into his arms before either of you have a chance to think about it, and holding you tightly.

“Izuku.” The sound of your voice makes his eyes close with a wave of emotion.

“I was so worried about you,” he manages, burying his face in your neck and feeling the reassurance of your warm, steady pulse. Your arms are squeezing around his middle, and Izuku hopes you never let go, hopes he can keep you pressed close to him like this forever, safe in the shelter of his body.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, everyone’s okay,” you whisper against him, and Izuku hears the tremble in your voice. His heart breaks, imagining the horror you must have felt seeing everyone under Betrayal’s quirk, and he pulls you in even closer. It has been hours since the moment in the ambulance, and that short time together couldn’t possibly have been enough to reassure you, Izuku thinks. It certainly hadn’t been enough for him.

“We’re okay,” Izuku says, drawing back to meet your gaze so you can see the honesty in his face, hoping that it will comfort you. He can’t resist cupping your face, stroking the softness of your cheek with his fingers, and oh god, you’re just so precious. “We’re alright. But are you okay? I know you said earlier that you were fine, but you were gone longer than any of us!” He searches your face, but you just smile tiredly at him.

“I’m fine, just banged up and badly bruised. They made me have a bunch of different scans to make sure nothing was more severely damaged internally, but they said the bruising will heal on its own.”

Izuku hears Kirishima clear his throat surreptitiously, and turns to face his friends, still holding on to you - he’s not ready to let go of you yet.

“We had to go into the main hospital and wait,” Kirishima says, frowning as his eyes dart between Izuku and you. “They wouldn’t let us into this wing for treatment, even though Katsuki and I are Pros. You might need to talk to the hospital, Midoriya, so any future needs come under your care plan as a hero.”

Kacchan bares his teeth at Kirishima’s words, and Izuku feels a pit of indignance in his stomach at the idea that they wouldn’t treat you in the Pro Hero wing, even after you’d gotten your injuries by being a bigger hero than any of the actual Pros in the room. He feels you tense up, and turns to you with concern as you slip out from under his arm.

You’re biting your lip, eyes darting from floor to ceiling, but not meeting anyone’s gaze.

“Uh, that’s okay, you don’t need to do anything like that,” you say. “Actually, I wanted to apologise to you all.” There’s an uncomfortable shuffling in the room, and you press on hurriedly, not allowing anyone time to argue. “You wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for me. Cthulhu even said it outright, that I’d gathered all you heroes up for him. I offered myself as bait, but I guess really I’ve been doing that for him all along, making you all feel like you had to protect me, and that meant you were all put in danger because of me. And-” you take a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t faster, that I didn’t get to Betrayal quicker to stop his quirk. You were all hurting so badly, and I was still so slow.”

Pain spasms across your expression, and Izuku watches in horror as you drop into a low bow of apology. He looks at Shouto, then Uraraka and Tenya. They are all wide-eyed, but nod firmly as Izuku catches their eye one by one. He reaches out, guiding you back up to standing with a firm hand around your arm. Even now, through his own shakiness, he can feel you trembling slightly, and his heart breaks all over again.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he says, watching the way your face fills with denial. “Actually, we’re the ones who should be apologising.”

Izuku leans into his own bow, staring at the flecked hospital flooring, and there’s a rustling behind him as his three friends do the same. Your breath stutters audibly.

“No, please, everyone, you don’t need to do that!”

“We absolutely do,” Tenya says firmly, his voice filled with sincerity. “We should have foreseen what happened today; allowing you to come as bait was foolish in the extreme.”

There’s a strained grunt, and then Kacchan is dropping into a bow too, teeth gritted, and he is quickly followed by Kirishima.

“Glasses is right,” Kacchan growls reluctantly. “Never should’ve encouraged you to do that.”

Kirishima sighs heavily. “You were more manly and courageous than the rest of us put together, today, but you shouldn’t have been in that position in the first place. We're sorry!”

“We promised to be with you the whole time and look after you, and yet you were the one who had to come through for us!” Uraraka sounds fierce.

“Please, accept our apologies,” Shouto adds, low and serious. “We failed to protect you.”

Heart pounding, Izuku straightens up from his bow so that he can meet your eyes properly. You look a little wild, unsure what to do with yourself, and he reaches out to take your hand without hesitation.

“We should have known better,” he says, feeling the conviction running through the room. “Villains are always going after heroes, it’s just a fact of life for us, and we should have remembered that. It wasn’t you who put us at risk, but the exact opposite. We were blinded by your bravery, and put you in danger that we’d never even consider with any other civilian in this situation. We’re the Pro Heroes, and yet you had to defend us.” Izuku feels your fingers clutch at him, and gives you a fierce smile, channeling the passion that is suddenly energising him. “And you did an amazing job of it! You fought off a villain that none of us could handle; you’re incredible! I always knew you had a hero's instincts.”

The others start straightening up, and Izuku can see Kacchan’s bared teeth in the corner of his eye.

“Broke that shitty villain’s nose, didn’t you? Not bad for a first timer, and a nerd.”

Shouto hums, and Izuku feels his smile grow at the note of fondness in the sound. “Actually, this isn’t the first time you’ve fought a criminal, but you’ve certainly outdone yourself this time.”

You make a choked noise that might be laughter or a sob. “Thanks, everyone.”

Uraraka suddenly shoves herself away from Shouto’s bed, and flings herself at you, picking you up in a hug and spinning you around.

“You’re a hero, Cake! We always knew it!” Uraraka crows, and any remaining tension in the room is completely washed away as your laughter turns clear and bright. Izuku beams as warm joy fills him at the sound.

Uraraka was right; you are a hero. And if there is anything Izuku has loved all his life, it is heroes.

He can’t wait to get you home and show you just how true that is.

Chapter Text

After reuniting with Izuku and his friends, you’re swept into an interview with the police, making your statement as your Pro Hero friends all watch on protectively, occasionally chipping in to add extra detail or to clarify a point.

Izuku is ferocious in questioning the police right back, pinning them down with a green stare that’s sharp as glass as he extracts promises and proof that there’s no possible way Cthulhu will be escaping this time. The news that Cthulhu and Betrayal will be taken to Tartarus is both reassuring and vindicating, and you feel a spark of vicious pleasure at the thought of them in the infamous prison.

Izuku is particularly thorough in his questions about Betrayal - the villain had seemingly come out of nowhere, and it is concerning to think that Cthulhu may have other people working for him in the shadows. The detective in charge takes his concerns seriously, but is reassuring in his answer - Betrayal had been nothing more than a man for hire, a kind of villain mercenary that Cthulhu had paid to work for him, and Cthulhu himself has no other followers.

The police are particularly pleased to have finally got their hands on Betrayal; apparently he has been causing havoc in the criminal underworld for the last six months, and the nature of his quirk made it very hard for them to catch him until now. Izuku flashes a proud smile at you when the detective says that, and you find yourself grinning back at him - you’re not above feeling smug about it all.

By the time the incident follow up procedures have been followed and you can finally leave, it is beginning to get dark outside, and you’re weak with hunger as well as exhaustion. The hospital had belatedly provided some food once Iida had gone to speak with the ward matron, but after the amount of energy and sheer terror you’ve exuded today, you don’t think any amount of food could possibly be enough to refuel you.

“Hey, you okay?”

You startle at Izuku’s querying voice, and look to see him standing by the car door, watching you with concern. Everyone else has already dispersed in a variety of vehicles, so it’s just the two of you left standing in the slowly emptying hospital car park.

“Sorry!” Your apologetic laugh has the crease between his brows easing a little. “I just completely spaced out for a minute. I’m so completely done with today.”

Izuku wrinkles his nose sympathetically. “Want to come to mine and order too much pizza?” His eyes widen suddenly, and he throws his hands up. “Oh, but you don’t have to! If you’d rather go home then I completely understand, no pressure or anything. I know it’s hard being around people when you’re feeling exhausted!”

You think about it for a brief moment. Sure, it would be nice to be back with all your own stuff, and in your own bed, but Izuku’s apartment has taken on some kind of quality of safety for you. And besides that, you don’t feel ready to let Izuku out of your sight again, let alone be by yourself.

“That… sounds perfect,” you tell him with a relieved sigh, and Izuku beams at you.

The car ride to Izuku’s is uneventful, and has you grateful all over again for the Pro Hero lifestyle - without Izuku arranging cars and transport all the time, you’d be left getting the train home in your dirty, sandy exercise clothes, still smeared with the occasional splatter of blood.

By the time you’re both showered and dressed in clean, comfortable clothes - the feel of which makes you heave a groan of relief after the many hours of being stuck in your filthy state - the pizza has arrived.

Despite his clear exhaustion, Izuku spends five minutes darting around the apartment like a whirlwind, the result of which is a sort of cosy nest on the floor, comprised of blankets, duvets and a huge selection of cushions that seem to have materialised from nowhere. The pizza boxes are neatly laid on the sofa, and an old action film is playing quietly on the TV - an All Might film, you realise with a fond smile, as a flash of that distinctive yellow hair crosses the screen.

“Uh, is this okay?” Izuku stands in the centre of the nest, barefoot and clad in loungewear that makes him look eminently huggable, one sheepish hand on the back of his neck. “We can sit on the sofa if you prefer, but I just thought this might be nice after today?”

Instead of answering, you throw yourself over the sofa and onto the floor, snuggling down at Izuku’s feet with a happy sigh. You don’t know how many quilts and blankets he’s layered on the bottom, but it’s as thick as a futon and ridiculously comfortable.

“Oh my god,” you groan. “This is literal heaven, I don’t think I’m ever going to leave. You’re stuck with me forever!”

Izuku shoots you a pleased grin, lightly pink across his freckles, and then flops down next to you, shuffling so that you end up lying shoulder to shoulder, and hip to hip. Propped up on cushions, the two of you lose yourselves in the ultimate comfort of hot, melting cheese, and the knowledge that the film will definitely have a happy ending. You feel your sore body melting blissfully into the warmth and safety of Izuku’s presence at your side.

Halfway through the film, pizza boxes finally discarded, Izuku slides a hand over yours, intertwining your fingers. The simple gesture runs up your nerves like a warm glow. Now that you’re finally safe, finally resting and relaxed, you feel your heart rate starting to pick up again at his affection - but this time in a good way.

You let your head tilt sideways, resting on Izuku’s shoulder, and he hums quietly in satisfied comfort. Emboldened by this, you shuffle closer, shifting onto your side so that you can snuggle up against him. Izuku lets go of your hand, and you feel a momentary pang of loss and concern, but then he slides his arm around you, careful not to press against your bruises, and you both sigh happily as your bodies fit together. You cuddle in close, tangling your legs and boldly resting a hand on his chest.

You watch the screen dreamily, more focussed on the feel of Izuku’s heartbeat under your palm than on what All Might is doing.

“That’s what I want, you know,” Izuku says suddenly, after a few minutes of quiet.

“Hm?” You frown bemusedly at the TV. “You want a machine gun?”

Izuku’s laugh vibrates under your hand. When you tilt your head to look up at him, he’s gazing directly at you. He’s so pretty in the muted light, with flashes of bright colour from the screen playing across his face.

“No.” His voice is soft. “I was talking about what you said earlier, about being stuck with you forever.” His hand floats up, one knuckle brushing your cheek with a tenderness that makes your throat ache. “That’s what I want.”

Your heart catches. Izuku’s eyes are as sincere and captivating as rain falling in a pine forest, and his expression is open and honest as you stare at him.

This is it, you think distantly. This is the one moment in your whole life where you need to take your courage in hand, and reach out for what you want.

“Izuku.” You breathe his name like it’s the most delicious word you’ll ever speak. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Izuku gazes blankly back at you, blinks twice, and then to your alarm, you see his eyes waver with tears. You push yourself up on your elbow, hand hovering over him awkwardly as you start to panic.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that! It was too much, right? Oh god, Izuku, please don’t cry, I’m sor-”

Izuku cuts you off neatly by leaning up, sliding a hand around your neck, and pulling you down into a kiss. He exhales shakily, and you feel his lashes flutter damply against your skin. You fist your hand in his shirt, leaning in close as his lips press countless gentle kisses against yours.

“I think I’m falling in love with you too,” he mumbles against your mouth. “You’re so good - you’re everything.”

Dizzy with joy, you pull away from his kisses, dropping your forehead to his chest. “So,” you say, squeezing your eyes closed. “Does that mean- I mean, um. Will you be my boyfriend?”

You immediately want to groan with embarrassment at your own stumbling words, thinking they sound like a middle schooler’s first confession. But Izuku just makes a small noise in his throat, and when you risk a look up at him, he’s staring at you like you’d just composed the world’s most beautiful poem.

“Yes, please,” he whispers, a slow smile dimpling his face. “Oh my god, please, yes! I’ll be the best boyfriend to you, I swear! Nothing would make me happier.”

His fingers stroke the back of your neck as you bury your overjoyed grin in his shirt, completely overwhelmed with happiness and terrified that you might burst into your own tears.

“But you should know,” Izuku continues, and the serious tone in his voice makes you look up quickly. “Being with a Pro Hero can be difficult. I work strange hours, and sometimes I get hurt, and I have nightmares and panic attacks. You might-” he breaks off suddenly, looking away even as his arms tighten around you. “You might be at greater risk of villain threats, and it’s certain that the media will try and invade your life.”

You sit up, pulling out of his grasp with a frown. “Hey, no, I don’t-”

“Please,” he murmurs, sitting up as well, but still not looking at you. “You have to consider it seriously, and know that I won’t be upset if you change your mind. I just want you to be happy and safe, whether that’s with me or not.”

You sigh. Reaching over, you touch his cheek encouragingly until he finally meets your eye again. Despite his discouraging words, Izuku leans into your touch like he craves it, making your heart skitter wildly.

“Izuku, none of this is news to me. I’ve known how different your life is from mine since the moment we met. I accept the risks.” You bite your lip, stroking the freckles on his cheekbone with one fingertip. “The way you make me feel is worth any number of risks, and anyway, I’ve told you before that I trust you with my life. I’d be the luckiest person in the world to be with you.”

Izuku lets out an unsteady breath, grasping your wrist to press a kiss into your palm. “Then you’ll be mine? Be with me?”

Laughter bubbles up out of you, soft and joyous. “Yes, of course! I was the one who asked you to be my boyfriend, wasn’t I?”

As if your confirmation has snapped his final thread, Izuku surges towards you, gently crowding you back until you're lying flat on the soft bed of cushions, caged in by his arms. He hovers over you, eyes suddenly dark as he dips his head to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone that has all the breath leaving your body.

You ghost your hands up his sides, revelling in the simple pleasure and warmth of his solid body, so amazingly alive under your touch. Izuku shivers, and kisses a line up your throat until his lips are on yours once more. The kiss is slow, sweet and deep, and you lose yourself in him until you’ve lost all sense of time and you’re both gasping for air.

With a soft groan, Izuku lowers himself to press fully against you for an instant, mindful of your sore body, before reluctantly tilting off you.

You lie facing each other on the outrageous number of cushions, so close your noses almost brush, hands smoothing lazily in affectionate caresses. Izuku is flushed pink, his lips kiss-swollen and smiling his heart-breaking smile. Love pulses through your veins like molten gold.

Cupping his face, you bury your fingertips in the tousled curls around his ears, the green so dark there it’s almost black. “You’re so beautiful, did you know that? You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen in my life.” You grin suddenly. “That time you wore my apron nearly killed me off, you know.”

Izuku closes his eyes, looking faintly embarrassed even as he glows under your attention. “Says you,” he retorts gently. “Do you know what it did to me, seeing you wearing that green last night, like you were dressed to match my hero colours? I swear Uraraka did it on purpose. I don’t know how any person in that whole event looked anywhere but at you all night.”

Your cheeks heat up at the heartfelt sincerity in his voice. Seeking to distract him from your embarrassment, you tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, tracing your fingertip from tip to earlobe as he shivers again.

A sudden, delightful thought occurs to you. “Izuku, sweetheart?” you murmur sweetly, ghosting your fingertips lightly down from his neck to his waist, and holding back a smile as another shiver runs up his spine.

He peeks one eye open. “Mm?”

“Are you... ticklish?”

His eyes snap open with an alarmed gasp, and that tells you everything you need to know. Diving in for the kill, you wiggle your fingers into his side, and instantly Izuku is laughing, begging for mercy as he writhes across the cushions.

Your own laughter grows as you chase him, tickling him mercilessly in every spot you can reach until tears are rolling down his cheeks and he finally wrestles you back down into submission.

“I take it all back,” Izuku whines as he presses you, still laughing breathlessly, into the cushions and draws a blanket up over you both. “You’re a villain, I’m going out with a villain! Kacchan’s gonna be so mad at you.”

You snuggle in close, pillowing his head on your arm and threading your fingers into his hair. “Nope, pretty sure Kacchan’s my friend now, by merit of me acting as stork for him and Kirishima!”

Izuku’s mouth pulls down comically at the corners. “You’re right! Tenya, then.”

You consider this, then nod agreeably. “Yeah, I think you’re probably right, he does seem the least chaotic of your friends.”

“You have no idea,” Izuku mutters, wide-eyed, and then his jaw cracks open in a wide yawn. “Remind me to tell you about our first internships at UA. You won’t think Tenya’s the least chaotic after that story, I can promise you.”

“Alright,” you laugh, already looking forward to it.

Izuku’s arm twines around you, strong and gentle. His eyes glitter in the dim light. You idly wonder when the TV had switched itself off, but can’t bring yourself to care. The humour fades from his expression, replaced by a calm focus.

“I’m so proud of you,” Izuku says quietly, sliding his broad palm up and down your spine.

There’s suddenly a lump in your throat, and you stare at him wordlessly, swallowing hard.

“I mean it. You were so brave today, standing up and fighting for us like that. And I’m sorry you had to do it, you must have been so scared.” Fire sparks to life in Izuku’s face, and his hand clenches in the back of your shirt. “It won’t happen again, not if I can help it. I’ll protect you whether it means breaking every last bone in my body or losing One for All forever. You’re worth more than all of that put together.”

“Thank you,” you whisper unsteadily, shaken to the core by the honesty that’s etched in the lines of his face - he means every word. “I don’t think all that will be necessary.” You smile suddenly, watching as Izuku’s mouth tilts up reflexively. “Although, maybe you could teach me how to throw a punch without hurting my knuckles.”

Izuku laughs, softening again. “I can definitely do that. In fact, I’ll do one better, and get All Might to show you!”

Awed by this thought, you cuddle Izuku closer. It’s so warm, in this little nest he’d built, and it somehow feels even safer than a bed.

Izuku draws lazy circles on your back, his movements getting slower as his eyes begin to get heavy, and the sweet tickling sensation tingles along all your nerve endings. You press your lips into his hair, wondering sleepily if it is creepy to enjoy someone’s smell so much, but discarding the thought as soon as it occurs - you don’t really care.

This has been one of the most terrifying and painful days of your life, facing down two villains and having to protect your friends with your body. And yet, lying on the floor of Izuku’s apartment, limbs tangled around each other in a warm, drowsy mess until you don’t know where he starts and you begin, you’re happier than you could ever have imagined.

If this is love, you think with the last vestiges of your conscious, sleep-addled mind, then really you should have thanked Cthulhu while you’d had the chance, because you’re not sure now how you ever lived without loving Midoriya Izuku.

Chapter Text

It has been three weeks since you asked Izuku to be your boyfriend, most of which you have spent together as much as possible, and in that time, you have noticed two things about him as a partner. The first thing is that Izuku treats being a boyfriend much as he does being a hero - that is to say, he throws himself into it with a wholehearted passion and focus.

The second thing is his hands. Izuku's hands have always been beautiful to you; they're strong, capable yet gentle, and scattered with scars, each one telling a story. With your relationship finally, joyfully, confirmed, Izuku's natural bashfulness seems to have receded in favour of showering you in unending affection.

And so those beautiful hands are there. He smooths them down your spine, brushes crumbs from your cheek, and slides them around your waist while you're cooking. Strong fingers massage your neck when you're tired after a particularly hard day at work, and cup your cheeks so he can rain kisses across your face. Izuku loves to hold your hand at every opportunity he gets, threading your fingers together and smiling brightly at you.

You think you're probably obsessed, maybe unhealthily so, but can't bring yourself to care. Izuku's hands represent the whole of him: they are filled with strength and power, wielded with a sweet thoughtfulness, and always, always respectful. His fingertips light you up inside with tender affection, but also display a trusting vulnerability in the way he doesn't hide their trembling after a bad day.

Right now, Izuku's hands are both full. One is cradling a big bunch of flowers, which he'd insisted on carrying for you, and the other is holding your hand, swinging your linked arms as you walk through the quiet neighbourhood.

"What if she doesn't like me?" you fret, for the hundredth time. "I've never met anyone's parents before. Hell, I don't even know my own parents, so how am I meant to know how to talk to somebody else's?!"

Izuku squeezes your hand, his smile unwavering. "She'll love you, I promise!" He says, then laughs suddenly. "Actually, she's probably more nervous about meeting you, than you are about her!"

"I doubt that," you mutter darkly, feeling the way your stomach is churning.

He bumps your shoulder, giving you a cheeky grin when you meet his eye. "Hey, if you can single-handedly defeat a villain mercenary who took out four Pro Heroes, I'm sure you can handle my mum!"

"That depends, is she planning on doing any evil monologues I can interrupt? I didn't bring a cake with me, and you still haven’t taught me how to punch properly, so words are my only weapon right now.”

Izuku’s laughter rings out, bright and clear, and as you grin in response, you find that the joking helps to distract you from your nerves a little for the rest of the short walk.

When you approach a neat set of apartment buildings, you take the bouquet from Izuku, cradling it in the crook of your arm. You had spent at least two days fretting about what gift to bring for Izuku’s mother, until Ueno had massaged her temples in a gesture of long-suffering patience, and advised that you can never go wrong with flowers. Even then you’d spent a long time staring at the beautiful displays in the florist’s, dithering about what to choose, until the assistant had given you a kind smile and directed you towards a colourful, cheerful bouquet. You had chosen a velvety dark green ribbon to finish it, thinking of Izuku’s hair.

“Speaking of punching,” Izuku says as you climb the final few steps of the stairs and follow him along the walkway. “I was going to keep this as a surprise, but I don’t want you to be overwhelmed if you’re already feeling nervous.”

“Okay?”

He beams at you. “I invited All Might tonight as well!”

“You-” You feel your eyes go wide as saucers. “We’re having dinner with your mum and All Might?!”

Izuku runs a hand through his hair sheepishly. “Um, yeah. Is that okay? It’s just that All Might is kind of like a father figure to me, he’s so important in my life, and I really want him to meet you! Plus, I thought it might be fun for you too.” He looks at you queryingly, and then creases into another bright smile when he sees your awestruck face.

“Are you kidding me?” you whisper as you approach a door with the name Midoriya written on a plaque beside it. “This is freaking awesome, and also, I’m terrified!”

Izuku bites his lip to muffle a laugh, his eyes sparkling, and pushes the door open.

“We’re here!”

There’s some muffled clattering from inside the apartment, and then two figures come into view at the end of the hallway. The woman, with her distinctive green hair and warm, emotional eyes so similar to Izuku’s, can only be Inko, and of course, you recognise All Might on sight. He holds up a hand in greeting, and you have to focus on adjusting the bouquet in your arms to quash your nerves and excitement as you nod hesitantly back.

“Izuku, don’t stop in the doorway! Please bring our guest in.” Inko hurries down the hallway, gesturing to her son to shut the door and move out of the way.

Watching Izuku start guiltily and then hurry to take his shoes off under his mother’s watchful eye has you biting back a laugh, touched by their familial ease with each other.

Inko kisses her son on the cheek, and then turns to you with a smile. “Welcome, I’m so glad to finally have you in my home! Izuku certainly took his time bringing you to meet me.”

Izuku makes a noise of protest, but Inko completely ignores him completely in favour of beaming up at you. She’s plump, petite, and absolutely adorable, matching exactly your mental picture of a kind and loving mother.

You bow politely, and hold out the flowers. “Thank you very much for inviting me, it’s so nice to meet you. These are for you - I hope they’re okay, and you’re not allergic or anything.”

Inko takes them with a look of delight. “Oh honey, you shouldn’t have! That’s so lovely! Look, Izuku, aren’t they beautiful?” She pats you gently on the arm. “Thank you so much!”

“Yes, beautiful,” Izuku agrees, flashing you a warm look that thrills you down to your toes. “Well, you’ve met my mum, and this is-”

“All Might!” you blurt, flushing as everyone smiles broadly at you.

The former number one hero holds out a large hand, giving you a firm handshake that feels well-practiced and friendly. He’s even taller than you’d imagined, all lanky, long limbs and a slightly hunched posture.

“And you must be Young Midoriya’s friend that we’ve heard so much about!”

You shoot Izuku a horrified look, and he waves his hands hurriedly. “Only good things, I promise!”

“All Might, sir, it’s an honour to meet you, I’m a big fan. Well, maybe not as big as Izuku, but then who is, really?”

All Might gives you a surprisingly humble grin, his deep eyes sparkling. His gaunt and shadowed face might have looked scary if it weren’t for the hint of his signature, bold positivity etched into his expression. “Please, call me Yagi. I haven’t been All Might for a long time now, except to Young Midoriya.”

Izuku scowls at that. “I’ve told you before, you’ll always be All Might to anyone who watched you as a hero!”

You nod quickly, displaying your fervent agreement. This man may be a stark difference from the huge, muscled figure of his heyday, but that doesn’t negate who he is, or what he’d achieved in his career.

Inko breaks into the conversation then, hustling everyone into the living room and asking Izuku to offer drinks around while she finds a vase for her flowers. The Midoriya apartment is homely and comfortable, feeling like a true family home with all the pictures of Izuku at various ages scattered around. You can smell something delicious cooking that you suspect might be katsudon, and hide a grin when you see Izuku’s eyes light up as he smells the air.

“Dinner is nearly done already,” Inko calls from the kitchen, giving you no time to feel awkward about what to do next. “So please, make yourselves comfortable at the table and we’ll eat shortly.” She pokes her head from behind a cabinet to fix Yagi with a stern look. “And you’re going to eat every bite, Yagi. I refuse to let you leave this home without a full, healthy stomach tonight!”

She disappears back into the kitchen, and Yagi gives you a sheepish smile as you all gather at the dining table. Izuku rests his hand briefly between your shoulder blades as he sits next to you, a sweet reminder that he’s nearby and there’s nothing to be nervous about.

“I do try to eat enough,” Yagi says with quiet amusement, eyes darting to check whether Inko is listening. “But she never believes me.”

Izuku laughs. “Mum’s a classic feeder, so if you look even a little unwell or tired, you’re getting a full meal made for you! I never had a chance to be hungry while I was growing up.”

“I think that’s lovely,” you say, a little wistfully. “It must’ve been nice to have someone who cares so much!”

Izuku gives you a sad smile, moving to press his foot against yours under the table, and you see Yagi’s brows go up in a small gesture of curious concern. You curse inwardly; barely minutes into the evening and you were already bringing the mood down with a sob story.

Luckily, Inko saves you by bustling in with the first of several steaming bowls, and Izuku leaps up to help her bring all the food to the table. As you had suspected, you’re presented with a large bowl of katsudon that immediately makes your mouth water furiously.

There’s no chance for much conversation over the next few minutes, other than compliments muttered between mouthfuls, as everyone is too busy eating. Inko’s cooking is incredible, and you feel it warm you in body and soul as you imagine Izuku eating this when he was younger, getting through difficult days and nights, and coming home to the comfort of something familiar and delicious.

“So,” Inko says eventually, when the initial food bliss has wound down a little. “Izuku tells me that you work in a children’s home?”

Yagi watches you with interest. You nod wordlessly, mouth full of rice, and Inko’s eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles. She seems so kind, but you start to panic as you wonder whether the parental interrogation you’ve been expecting has finally begun.

“Yes, I’ve worked there for a few years now,” you say, after swallowing hurriedly. “I’m a junior support worker. It doesn’t pay much, but it’s rewarding work, I think.” You glance at Izuku, who gives you an encouraging nod. “I’m quite passionate about the wellbeing of the children in our care, since I grew up in the system myself.”

You’re trying to keep your voice casual, but you can’t help watching Inko nervously after mentioning your past. It’s not that you don’t trust Izuku’s family, but you’ve heard too many unkind words in the past about foster kids not to be anxious. Not to mention you’re baring yourself in front of All Might, of all people.

Izuku puts his chopsticks down. “Don’t undersell yourself, you’re a hero to those children!”

You laugh dismissively. “No, that’s you, and Uraraka, and the others. I’m just a family figure for them.”

Izuku frowns, but it is Inko who leans over to pat your hand, her eyes wide and shimmery. “But I think that’s absolutely wonderful! Just giving those children love and support must mean so much to them.”

Relief floods through you at this gesture of acceptance. "Thank you, I think so too.”

“And it might not be much, but you’re always welcome in our home,” Inko says firmly, and then her gaze darts between you and Izuku with a little smile. “After all, you’re basically family now, aren’t you?”

Izuku immediately flushes bright red. “Mum!"

Yagi chuckles. "Don't argue, Young Midoriya, it's the right of us old folks to fuss over you young ones." He looks at you, shadowed eyes tilting with his smile. "And you couldn't have picked a better family to fuss over you."

You stare at him and Inko wordlessly. They barely knew you, and yet they were already welcoming you to Izuku's family? You wonder if this is what all families were meant to be like, welcoming and open with their support.

You fumble for Izuku's hand under the table, gripping tightly.

"Um, thank you," you tell Inko. "That's really nice, it means a lot." You look at Yagi, smiling nervously back at him. "I agree, Izuku has been wonderful at looking after me since we met.”

The rest of the meal passes quickly, filled with polite conversation interspersed with the occasional reminder from Inko for everyone to eat as much as they like.

You still feel a little uncomfortable. Inko has been so welcoming, and Yagi has been surprisingly approachable compared to what you expected of All Might, but despite that, you are on edge, clinging to polite, stilted formality like a shield.

When everyone has finished eating, you try to offer to help with the dishes, but Inko flat out refuses. Izuku gives you a shrug and a little grin as he is summoned into the kitchen in your stead.

Yagi smiles sheepishly at you. “I’m never allowed to help either! Would you come and sit with me while they finish up?”

“Yes, sure,” you manage, feeling sweat spring up on your palms as you follow him to the sofa.

Alone with All Might, without anyone else as a social buffer, you’re at a complete loss. All Might was one of the most famous people in the world, and like most others, you’d spent your life surrounded by images of him, a larger than life hero who you never would have imagined ever meeting in person. And yet, it isn’t All Might sitting in the armchair next to you, but Yagi; they are one person, and yet different. All Might was an image, but Yagi is real and right next to you.

This confusing train of thought is abruptly cut off when Yagi leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes are keen on yours, glinting like blue chips of ice, but his expression seems kind.

“So, is Young Midoriya the first Pro Hero you’ve ever gotten to know well?”

You straighten up, wondering if this is the other side of the interrogation. “Yes! I’d never even seen one in person before we met, and now I’ve been able to get to know so many wonderful heroes. They’re all so amazing. Izuku’s amazing,” you finish, trying to keep your voice firm past your nervousness.

Yagi crinkles into a fond smile. “Yes, he is quite wonderful, isn’t he?” He squeezes his hands together, smile fading a little. “Many people wish to be friends with heroes, or to parade them on their arm, but very few know the reality of what being a hero really means once you get past the glamour.”

“I-” You hesitate, not wanting to betray Izuku’s trust, but then decide that Yagi probably already knows everything there is to know about his successor. “I think that I’ve seen it. The reality, I mean. Or at least a hint of it. Izuku has nightmares and panic attacks. And he’s sometimes so exhausted he can barely lift his arms, even though he’s so strong.” You look up at Yagi, sombre as you remember a recent example. “Last week I had to help him take his shoes off because his fingers were trembling too much for the laces.”

Yagi nods solemnly. “It is hard, any hero will agree with that. But for us it is worth it - we get the reward of feeling that we’ve pushed ourselves, body and soul, to the limit, to help the people we promised to protect. And sometimes the harder it is, the more rewarding.” He sighs quietly, and scratches the back of his head. “The people around us don’t get that satisfaction. For our friends and family-” He moves to catch your gaze, “-and our partners, in many ways, it is harder for them. They witness us hurting without being able to do anything about it, have long days and nights of worry, and sometimes don’t even see their heroes for weeks. It can be dangerous, too, as I’m sure you’ve already discovered.”

You nod silently, not wanting to break the flow of his thoughts.

“I lost someone I was close to, once,” Yagi continues, an old sadness settling across his face. “We had a falling out because he believed me to be in danger and wanted to keep me safe, while I wouldn’t - couldn’t - give up being a hero just for my own safety. That hurt us both a great deal.” He gives you a rueful smile. “I don’t tell you this to be cruel, but because I wouldn’t be doing my duty by Young Midoriya, or by you, if I didn’t make sure you understood all of this. I don’t wish you both to go through the same pain that we did.”

He falls quiet, watching you with gentle eyes. You can hear Izuku and Inko in the distant background, all clattering dishes and comfortable conversation. Your fingers tangle together, squeezing hard enough that your knuckles turn white.

“I know that being with a hero isn’t easy,” you start, and then have to clear your throat roughly before you can continue. “And I can’t pretend that I’m not scared. But if I’m honest, I’m more scared of not knowing Izuku, of not having him in my life at all.” You take a deep breath as sudden ferocity rushes through you. “And as terrifying or painful as it might get sometimes, I think that loving Izuku is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Because I do, All Might. I love him.”

Yagi stares at you for a long moment, and then to your utter amazement, you see red creeping across his sharp cheekbones, and one hand comes up to cover the bottom half of his face.

He clears his throat loudly, looking like nothing more than an embarrassed father suddenly faced with a conversation more intimate than he was ready for.

“Ah- well. Yes, that’s good, then. As long as you’re prepared.” He pushes up to his feet, muttering something about taking the trash out to get some fresh air.

On his way past the sofa he pauses, and one large, bony hand settles briefly on your shoulder.

“I’m very glad that you and Young Midoriya have found each other. You both deserve to be happy.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you feeling bewildered, and very much like you’ve just been run over by a freight train of emotions.

Still perching on the edge of the sofa, you drum your fingers on your knees. You haven’t spent a lot of time in other people’s homes, so you’re not sure what to do. Seeking distraction, you discretely pull your phone out, happy to see a notification from the newest group chat, filled with everyone who had been involved with the hunt for Cthulhu.

Uraraka [06:28pm]
Caaaake, are you having a nice time with Deku’s mum? Is it going well? I bet she loves you! You have to tell us all about it!! :)

Iida [06:37pm]
Please give Izuku’s mother our best!

Kirishima [06:39pm]
aww, have a nice time dudes!

Smiling as you read the messages, you tap out a quick reply. Inko and Izuku seem to be busy chatting as they tackle the dishes, and Yagi hasn’t yet returned, so you figure it won’t be too rude to be on your phone.

You [07:41pm]
Thanks, I think it’s going okay! Just a bit nervous... Also All Might is here??

Your phone buzzes with an immediate reply.

Uraraka [07:41pm]
Hahahaha yeah Deku told us not to tell you, surprise!!

You [07:42pm]
It was an amazing surprise, but I have no clue what to talk to him about!

You want to tell them that you think All Might has just given you the shovel talk, but you don’t want to get him in trouble when Izuku inevitably sees the string of messages, so decide to keep things simple for now. Plus, it’s not a lie - you really don’t know what to say to him, after that conversation.

Uraraka [07:42pm]
Oh don’t worry about it! AM is just a huge dork!!

Uraraka [07:42pm]
I mean, he’s super cool, obviously, but also he’s also super dorky! So don’t be intimidated!!

You [07:42pm]
Haha okay thanks, I’ll try and remember that!

Todoroki [07:43pm]
Ochako’s right, you don’t need to be nervous about All Might. But more importantly, how is Izuku's mother? Is she well? She’s really nice, isn’t she?

Uraraka [07:43pm]
Oh yeah haha, Shouto loves her!

Todoroki [07:43pm]
She gives really nice hugs and makes me soba. Also, one time she said Endeavor should’ve been arrested for child abuse :) :)

You [07:44pm]
Oh my god, what did Endeavor do? Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t ask. But yes, she seems well!

Todoroki [07:44pm]
That’s good, please tell her I said hello and that I’ll visit her soon. More like what didn’t Endeavor do, to be honest.

Uraraka [07:44pm]
Haha don’t worry, we’ll explain about Endeavor some other time! So has Inko tried to adopt you yet??

You [07:45pm]
Adopt me?

Bakugou [07:45pm]
Yeh auntie does that - probably already has and you’re too much of a nerd to see it. Anyway, if you wanna talk to her and all might, just tell em about your fight, they’ll get a kick outta that.

Bakugou [07:46pm]
And yeh, all might’s the biggest fucking dork

Bakugou [07:46pm]
ALSO ICY HOT DONT TRAUMA DUMP IN THE GROUP CHAT, JESUS

Izuku [07:47pm]
Do I hear All Might slander?? Not on my christian minecraft server!! Also yes, mum has totally begun the adoption already :)

Bakugou [07:47pm]
Gross deku, stop meme-ing all over the place

You don’t get a chance to read the other replies that come buzzing in - looking up you see Izuku, phone in hand, grinning at you as he comes to join you on the sofa.

“I see the others have been keeping you company while I was busy!” he says, dropping a little kiss onto your shoulder. “They’re right, you know. Mum loves you, and you don’t have to be nervous about All Might, I promise!”

He takes your hand in his, but doesn’t have time to say much else before Inko and Yagi reappear, carrying trays of tea and sweets. You accept your tea with a grateful smile, and Inko beams at you as she builds a small tower of treats on a plate and places it on your lap without asking.

“So, Young Midoriya mentioned that you were involved with taking down two villains recently?” Yagi says, leaning back in his seat, teacup dwarfed in his hands.

You can’t believe your luck - after Bakugou had given you this exact subject as a conversation starter, All Might just went right in and did it for you. Izuku smiles at you encouragingly as you nod and launch into the story.

Inko and Yagi are an excellent audience. Inko reacts to every twist of the story like she’s never heard tell of a fight before, gasping and covering her mouth with both hands when you talk about Cthulhu’s tentacles and Betrayal’s horrifying quirk. Yagi listens attentively, nodding and murmuring appreciatively as you describe how you’d eventually been able to hold off Betrayal long enough for the reinforcements to arrive.

“Anyway, we all came out okay in the end,” you finish, wanting to reassure the worry evident in Inko’s expression. “A bit bruised, but I feel so much safer knowing they’re both in Tartarus now!”

Izuku straightens up suddenly. “Oh, that reminds me! All Might, since we have a burgeoning hero in our presence now, I was hoping you could give a crash course in how to throw a punch!”

Yagi looks between Izuku’s gleaming eyes and the excitement you’re trying to hold back, and his face breaks into a smile. “I’d be delighted! This old dog can still show off some tricks, after all.”

Which is how you find yourself in the middle of the Midoriya family home, flanked by two Symbols of Peace as they walk you through good punching form. Inko sits on the edge of her seat, cheering as you slam your fist into Izuku’s palm, held up for you like a boxing mitt.

“Yes!” Yagi thunders, the frail skeleton of his frame suddenly filled with an infectious energy. “Pivot on your back foot, and swing from the shoulder!”

Izuku grins at you, eyes bright with fierce enthusiasm. “Go for a Smash, I can take it!”

You turn to look at Yagi with uncertainty. “But I don’t have a quirk.”

“Nonsense!” Yagi says firmly. “You don’t need a quirk to execute a good Smash. Come on, turn around and face your opponent. That’s it, now get ready to throw your best punch, and when you go for it, clench your buttocks and yell ‘Smash!’ from the depths of your heart!”

Infected by the energy in the room, you roll straight into the punch, driving your fist into Izuku’s palm with everything you have.

“SMAAAASH!”

Izuku staggers back with the force of your blow. He’s laughing as his hand closes around your fist, and he pulls you into a hug that you return with enthusiasm, burying your face in his shoulder and ignoring your embarrassment at Inko’s delighted squeak in the background. You feel electric, filled with energy, like you could tackle the world, and laughter spills out of you until everyone in the room is chuckling.

“Well done,” Yagi says, clapping you on the shoulder. “We’ll make a fighter out of you yet!”

Inko covers her face with a small moan. “Not another one, I can barely handle worrying about everyone as it is!”

Still breathless with excitement, you smile at her. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly happy working with children and staying out of fights as much as is humanly possible. But I might practice my Smash every now and then, just for fun.”

The rest of the evening flows smoothly. You feel relaxed now, at ease in the company of the two people who have been such important fixtures in Izuku’s life, and who have already shown you so much kindness in one evening. Inko is delighted when you tell her that Izuku has promised to come to you for help if he gets ill, or anything else non-hero-related. After some prodding from Izuku, Yagi finishes off the night by retelling the stories of some of his most famous rescues.

When it is finally time to go, you all gather at the door. Inko suddenly appears with a small pile of tupperware containers, pushing one into everyone’s hands. You look through the clear plastic and stare at the cute homemade cookies inside with a sudden lump in your throat.

“Thank you,” you murmur to her, as Izuku and Yagi bid each other goodbye. “For the cookies, and for this evening. For being so welcoming to me.”

Inko gives you a tender look, reaching up to pat your cheek with one soft, worn hand before pulling you down into a hug.

“No, thank you,” she whispers in your ear. “Thank you for giving Izuku the love he deserves. You’ve already made him so happy.”

Choking up, you swallow hard. Todoroki was right, you think - Inko really does give the best hugs. When she finally releases you, turning away to dab at her eyes with her apron before throwing herself at Izuku, Yagi comes to stand beside you, watching the two Midoriyas embracing with a fond smile.

“I don’t know if Young Midoriya has told you,” he begins quietly, shadowed eyes still fixed on Izuku. “But I was very unkind to him when we first met. I’ve learned a lot since then, and I’m still learning every day. But one thing I do know for sure is that you don’t need a quirk to make a difference in this world.” He turns to look down at you solemnly. “I’m not an active hero anymore, but I can still recognise a hero when I see one, and so can Young Midoriya.”

He breaks into a smile then, wide and beaming and full of bright, gleaming teeth. When he shuffles out the door, you turn to Izuku, wide-eyed.

“I don’t believe him,” you croak. “There’s no way those teeth aren’t specially whitened.”

Izuku’s laughter floats you all the way home, light-hearted and utterly charmed by the whole evening.

It’s only when you’re climbing into your bed with the pleasant tiredness of a long day, that Yagi’s words sink in. All Might himself had implied that he recognised you as a hero.

Laughing in shaky disbelief, you send a long goodnight text to Izuku, filled with even more affection than normal. He probably doesn’t know, you think. Izuku has no idea how much he’s changed your life and your perception of yourself, all in the short time you’ve known each other.

Chapter Text

You knock on Izuku’s door enthusiastically, smiling when you hear a yelp of surprise from inside. There’s a clattering noise, followed by quick footsteps, and then Izuku swings the door open. His look of confusion melts into a delighted smile when he sees you standing there.

“Hi!” he says, stepping back to let you in. “I didn’t know you were coming over! I thought you were working today?”

Toeing off your shoes, you immediately put your bags down and turn to wrap him in a hug. It has been a couple of days since you’ve last been able to see each other in person, and you’ve missed Izuku terribly, even in that short time. He returns the embrace with enthusiasm, sighing happily into your shoulder.

“Oh, I have to cover someone else’s shift this weekend, so they gave me the next couple of days off instead,” you tell him, squeezing tighter and tighter until he’s laughing breathlessly. “You said you weren’t doing anything today, and I missed you, so I thought I’d surprise you!” Pulling back, you glance at his face in sudden worry. “Is that okay, should I have asked first?”

“No! Of course it’s okay,” Izuku says hurriedly. “This is the nicest thing I could have possibly hoped for on my day off!”

When you lean back to give him a narrow-eyed look, you notice the pleased flush across his freckles, and the smile dimpling his cheeks, and your worry dissipates entirely.

“Anyway, I missed you too. A lot, actually,” he continues, a little quieter. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy the last few days, and that I kept you waiting. We weren’t expecting it to get so busy at the agency, but then you can’t always predict these things.”

Seeing his smile falter a little, you plant a firm kiss on his cheek.

“Izuku, I told you it was okay, and I meant it! We both have weird schedules, it’s just part of our jobs. I know that and I’m really fine with it, okay?” You give him an earnest smile, and are pleased when his expression clears again.

“Thank you,” he says happily. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you!”

“Mm, saved a museum full of people, went with me to get ice cream, helped me find a lost child… oh, and you looked after me when I almost got concussion, plus there was that time when you-”

“Okay, okay!” He laughs, going pink around the ears. “I get the picture!”

“Good. Now help me bring these bags in, you big strong hero.”

Holding back a grin, Izuku lets the green crackle of One for All run along his limbs as he hefts your many shopping bags in both hands, and gives you a dramatic look.

“It would be my pleasure! No bag shall go uncarried, not while I am here!”

Snorting with laughter, you shove him gently through to the kitchen.

You’d thought long and hard about what to do with Izuku today. You have spent time together in many different ways by now - dinners, coffee, walks in the park - but your favourite is always when you get to just be together at one of your homes, cosy and silly and domestic. There’s a soft openness to Izuku when he’s properly alone with you that you crave - and not having to worry about public displays of affection is a bonus, too.

So in the end, you had spent a small fortune at the supermarket, and hope that Izuku likes your idea.

"So what is all this, anyway?" Izuku asks, looking curious as he deposits the bags carefully onto the countertop.

"Well, I still owe you an All Might cake, and I figured it might be fun to make it together?"

Izuku's eyes widen, gleaming with a childlike joy that has your stomach flipping over at the sheer sweetness of it.

"Yes! Oh, but I've never really baked a cake before, so I'll be following your lead, sensei!" He clenches his hand into a determined fist, and then suddenly spins on his heel. "Can you wait for a minute before starting? I'll be right back, I promise!"

He races off into his bedroom before you have a chance to answer. Pleased at how well your suggestion has gone down, you begin unpacking everything. Ingredients, cake tins, and food colouring were all standard purchases, but you have one more you're feeling particularly smug about; two new, matching aprons with Sugarman branding.

When Izuku pads back into the kitchen, carrying a notebook and pen, you're already wearing your apron. Your hurry to throw it on is validated by the squawk he makes when his eyes land on you. The notebook is hastily discarded in favour of his full attention being given to you and the apron.

“Ahh! Is that the new Sugarman range? Sato didn’t tell me it was already out-” He devolves into mumbles, coming close to pluck the fabric and inspect the design. You hold carefully still, letting him run his fingers along the seams while muttering about the craftsmanship, but you can’t help a shiver as his hands ghost down your waist.

Once his investigation is complete, Izuku draws back a little, beaming. “You look so cute!”

Turning away to hide your flustered face at the easy way the compliment had dropped from his lips, you find the second apron and thrust it at him.

“Here, now you can look cute too,” you tell him unceremoniously.

Izuku’s eyes light up instantly. “You got us matching merchandise aprons?!”

He places the apron carefully on the countertop, then turns to hug you tightly, spinning you round effortlessly as your feet leave the floor. You’re breathless and dizzy with laughter by the time he sets you gently back down.

“Thank you so much,” he murmurs, leaning in close. “I love it.”

He kisses you then, hooking fingers in your apron ties and pulling you close, lips warm against yours. Izuku’s kisses are tender and addictive, and it’s only through sheer effort of will that you stop yourself from melting into him entirely.

“You gotta stop,” you mumble against his mouth. “If you want your All Might cake then I’m going to need a working brain.”

Izuku laughs softly, an endearing sound that automatically pulls a smile onto your face. When he reluctantly separates from you, you see that he looks just as dazed as you feel.

Feeling utterly weak for him, you lean back in to dot several quick kisses along his freckles, and then employ your full strength to turn away and continue unpacking the ingredients. When you turn back to Izuku, you see he’s neatly dressed in his apron, and has his notebook spread open to a fresh page, pen poised and ready to take notes. He smiles winningly at you, waiting for your instructions, and your heart just about beats out of your chest.

Measuring out the ingredients is easy. Izuku is ready and willing to follow your lead, and is an excellent pupil in all regards, you think. In fact, the only hard part of making the cake mixture is catching Izuku before he uses too much strength while whisking.

“No quirks in the kitchen!” you laugh, pulling at Izuku’s arm. “Cake batter needs to be treated gently; you can’t beat it into submission like a villain, or you’ll make it tough.”

Izuku babbles apologetically, and then begins furiously taking notes in the margin of his page, muttering under his breath about batter and flour and over-mixing.

When the cakes - you need several layers to build it to the size you want - are in Izuku’s oven, you flop onto the sofa bonelessly. Izuku joins you, taking your floury hand in his and resting his head against your shoulder.

“Baking is really hard!” he says, sounding amazed. “I mean, I knew it was an art, but it’s more like chemistry!”

You shrug, jostling his head slightly. “Once you get the basics down, following a recipe is pretty easy.” You look down at him with a sudden grin. “You must have been your teachers’ favourite student, the amount of diligent notes you make!”

Izuku groans. “Actually, more like the opposite. I did alright academically, but I think I caused them more trouble than anyone else combined in every other way.”

His hair is warm, tickling your neck where he leans against you, and you press an affectionate kiss to the crown of his scalp. “What do you mean? You had All Might helping you, right?”

“Yes, although that sometimes made things worse.” Izuku glances at the clock, and seeing that there is plenty of time before the cakes need to be checked, he settles in to tell you about his time at UA.

You love hearing about Izuku’s past - every story embellishes what you already know, like adding pieces to a puzzle, all building the picture of how Izuku had grown into the person he is today. Your heart goes out to him, that young Izuku, wide-eyed and desperate to become the hero he’d always wanted to be, while being thrown obstacles and villains at every turn.

It’s so different from your own school life, which now seems incredibly mundane by comparison. Yet when Izuku asks you about it, his attention is as keen on you as if you were telling the most exciting story. He really cares about what you tell him, asking questions and furrowing his brows as he tries to memorise your history, and it both flatters and touches you.

Conversation flows so easily with Izuku that the oven timer is beeping before you know it, and so your talk follows you back into the kitchen. You show Izuku how to make frosting, this time encouraging the use of his strength to beat the butter, and you trade little memories, just tiny snatches of your lives.

By the time you’re fixing the last decoration to the cake - a yellow spear of icing to mimic All Might’s infamous hair - you’re shocked to see how much of the day has passed. Izuku stands back, admiring the cake with a blissful look on his face. There’s a smudge of icing sugar across his cheek, and his new apron is covered in flecks of frosting, and you’re not sure he’s ever looked quite so attractive as he does right now.

“We really made that!” he crows, pulling out his phone to take pictures. “This is amazing! Ah, I really want to try it, but I don’t want to cut into it.” He gives you a heartbroken look, and you grin back at him.

“I’m afraid there’s no use making a cake if you don’t eat it,” you tell him sweetly, and then pull out a large knife from behind your back, the metal flashing dangerously under the kitchen spotlights.

Izuku cries out dramatically, springing to stand in front of the cake with his arms spread protectively.

“Not Cake Might,” he moans. “Please, take me instead, anything but Cake Might!”

You try to advance menacingly, but the look on his face - trying for dramatic but looking truly horrified - has you giggling helplessly. Putting the knife down, you reach up and stroke his shoulder soothingly.

“Okay, okay,” you say, still laughing between words. “Cake Might can live, for now.” Izuku brightens, and you hold up a warning finger. “But! In return, you have to find us dinner, because this stomach is hungry, and if it doesn’t get food soon, I’ll go after any cake that so happens to be in my path.”

“You strike a hard bargain, you villain!” Izuku proclaims, but he smiles sunnily and immediately orders far too much food.

By the time the food is delivered, you have the kitchen cleaned up, and the cake is proudly displayed in the very centre of the breakfast bar. Izuku puts a film on, something easy that you’ve both watched before, and you settle in, sharing bites of food from each other’s plates and talking over the movie.

It’s domestic and comfortable, and your heart sings with the absolute contentment of the moment.

When the food is gone, and you’ve both quieted into a content silence, you sneak a look at Izuku sitting next to you. He looks happy, you think, and the idea that you have played a part in his happiness sends a thrill shivering through you. A wave of something fierce and joyful has you suddenly breathless.

“Izuku,” you say, before your brain has time to complete its thought. He looks at you, his smile soft and questioning. “I love you.”

Izuku’s breath audibly catches, his lips parting slightly as he stares at you. His eyes are wide, and it’s not fear in them, but sheer wonder. Moving slowly, as if in a dream, he reaches for you, sliding his hands to cup your face tenderly.

“I love you too,” he whispers. “I love you so much. You make me so happy, I-” He breaks off, choking a little as his eyes shimmer with tears.

“Izuku,” you say again, unable to form a more coherent thought. “I love you!”

Suddenly unable to have any distance between you, you surge forward to kiss him, a warm press of lips as his fingers stroke across your cheeks and down your throat.

Izuku gasps, and the hot puff of air against your mouth is mind-numbingly sensual. You move closer, wanting to feel the rich aliveness of his body against yours, the physical proof of his existence. Wrapping your arms around him, you press your palms firmly against the muscles of his back.

You kiss him with determination, wanting to press the love out of your lips and onto his, so he’ll be able to taste it for the rest of his life, and know that he’ll never be alone. Izuku is trembling against you, returning your kisses with a tenderness that has your heart cracking open for him.

You don’t know how much time passes, only vaguely aware that at some point the film has fallen silent, and the orange cast of the light in Izuku’s hair suggests that the sun is starting to set. Your heart races as Izuku's hands pull you in, as his kisses pull you apart.

“Ah, sweetheart,” you mumble. “I want to be close to you.” Leaning back a little, you catch his gaze meaningfully, so you can see the exact moment that he understands what you’re asking.

Izuku stills against you, barely even breathing, but his eyes track across your face carefully. He’s always so gentle with you, so mindful of your feelings and boundaries.

“Oh. Oh. I want-” He swallows. “Are you sure? It’s okay if-”

You cut him off with a quick kiss. “I’m sure. But only if you're sure, too.”

Izuku doesn’t hesitate then. His hands slide around you, and before you can say anything else, he lifts you into his arms, and is already padding out of the room. You throw your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

“I can walk, you know,” you say with a soft laugh, brushing kisses against the side of his neck. His pulse jumps under your lips.

“I know. But I like how you feel in my arms.”

The absolute sincerity in his voice is enough to silence the teasing words you had planned, and then Izuku is depositing you gently back onto your feet, next to his bed. He looks suddenly shy, even a little uncertain, so you turn and pull at the neat blankets.

“Let’s get under the covers,” you suggest, and then dive in before Izuku can answer you. He follows without hesitation, and for a moment you’re both laughing as you rustle around, shifting until you’re buried in a cocoon of blankets.

Your hands find each other in the soft darkness, pulling your bodies close, and suddenly your laughter is dying away. Izuku’s lips brush against yours, and with a sigh he’s kissing you as if you are the only thought in his mind, the only sensation felt by his body. Your limbs tangle together until every inch of you is pressed against every inch of him, and still you wish you could get closer.

“Not close enough yet,” you murmur between kisses, and Izuku’s answering groan sets every single one of your nerves alight.

Time stretches and slows, and you’re caught in this long, amber moment, captured forever.

Shaky fingers seek out buttons and zips, shedding clothes piece by piece. The slide of Izuku’s warm, calloused palms against your skin is electrifying, and you reach out in return, tracing your fingers along his lean body, learning each new scar and dimple until Izuku is trembling under your touch.

“Love you,” he whispers hoarsely. “I love you.”

You breathe words of your own love across his skin. He smells soft, like vanilla and baking, and like the familiar warmth that is just Izuku. Heat is building between your bodies, echoing the burning of your heart, so filled with bursting love you can hardly think straight.

“Closer, please.”

Izuku’s clever hands stroke and touch, his voice a soft mumble in your ear as meaningless words spill from his lips, and his skin tastes like sweet salt against your tongue. Your bodies come together as one, limbs wrapped around each other, pressing in until you’re as close as two people ever can be, sharing breaths.

Skin to skin, and heart to heart, Izuku rocks you both into cresting pleasure, felt in every atom of your body.

Hot, damp with sweat, and overwhelmed with love, you lie gasping in Izuku’s bed, cradled in each other’s arms as you come slowly back down to earth together, sharing breaths.

“Are you okay?” His voice is barely a whisper, but you’re so close it doesn’t matter. His eyes glitter in the dark, forehead resting against yours.

“More than,” you tell him with a shaky grin. “Are you?”

Izuku strokes down your arm, fingers seeking yours, holding your hand like he’s anchoring himself.

“More than,” he echoes, and the huff of your shared laughter fills the small space between you, quivering the blankets.

~

You lie quietly together for a time, trading gentle kisses, until Izuku eventually stirs, rolling back a little so he can look at you properly.

“I think I’m ready now,” he says solemnly, raising your hand to his lips and kissing your fingertips.

“Ready for what?”

Izuku’s sudden grin is blindingly brilliant. “To cut Cake Might!”

He slides out of the bed, tucking your hands back inside the covers as you reach for him with a groan of protest. The faint light coming in from the living room is enough to illuminate the blush that sweeps up his neck and ears as he trots out of the room completely naked.

“Bless you, Cthulhu,” you mutter idly, eyes still transfixed on the spot where Izuku’s bare behind had finally vanished from view. “Bless you for leading me to this moment, you awful, god-sent villain.”

Izuku returns a quick minute later, carrying two plates stacked with tall slices of cake, and drinks tucked under one arm. He’s still completely naked, and looks fiercely embarrassed when he catches you staring brazenly at him, a smile large across your face, but makes no move to cover himself.

You shuffle around in the bed, helping Izuku get situated until you’re both comfortably sat up against the pillows and shrouded in puffy blankets. It’s delightfully cosy, and you lean in close to Izuku’s side, watching as he takes the first, tentative bite of the cake you’d made together.

“Ah! It’s so good!” Izuku’s absolute delight has you grinning as you take your own forkful - and it is good, light and sweet and delicious.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” you tell him, poking a finger into his side. “Could Cake Might be anything but amazing? Speaking of which…” You look down at your plate, studying the slice of cake suspiciously. “Did you give me All Might’s smile?”

Izuku beams. “Only the best for you!”

“Then what do you have?”

Izuku looks down at his cake mournfully. “An eye. Poor All Might.”

The absolute misery in his expression has laughter ringing out of you, patting his knee with your free hand as he eats his cake, seesawing between joy at how delicious it is, and horror at having to cut his mentor’s visage.

“You make me so happy too, Izuku,” you say eventually, when your laughter has died down, leaving only a warm ache in your chest. “You said that earlier, and I feel the same way. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my life.”

Izuku looks at you, his eyes soft and vulnerable, and puts his plate aside so he can slide his arms around you once more, resting his head against your chest, where your heart is beating with tremulous joy.

“We’re so lucky,” he says, quiet and heartfelt.

And you can’t help but agree. Sitting there in Izuku’s bed, loving fiercely, and being loved in return, you think you’re probably the luckiest person in the world.

Chapter Text

"Yuki! Deku's here, time to go!"

There's a hammering of small feet on the floor above, and Izuku shares a wide grin with you. The picnic has been planned for weeks, and Yuki hasn't stopped talking about it the whole time.

Yuki appears with an excited yell, careening down the stairs until he's in front of you both, panting and hopping from foot to foot.

"Hi, Yuki!" Izuku says, ruffling his wayward hair. "Are you ready for the picnic?"

"Yeah! I got my frisbee and everything in here, see?!" Yuki spins so Izuku can admire his little backpack, bursting with various toys and activities. Izuku surreptitiously finishes zipping the bag up so that nothing falls out, and you give him a wink of thanks.

"Alright then, let's go," you tell Yuki, after giving them a minute to catch up. Yuki's adoption by Kirishima and Bakugou may be in the works, but Deku still has a special place as his favourite hero.

Yuki grabs Izuku's hand, forcibly towing him out of the building. Izuku throws you a glance over his shoulder, face lit up with laughter and his own excitement, and you feel your heart lifting. Izuku's so good and sweet with the kids, and it never fails to charm you. You think that you might be as excited about today as Yuki is, if a little quieter about it.

The home is empty, with Inaba, Ueno, and the rest of the staff having taken everyone else out on a picnic of their own, so you quickly lock up and make your way out to the car.

It's a blindingly beautiful day, the fresh breeze of late spring blending with the warmth of early summer sun to achieve the perfect temperature. However, you don't get any time to linger and enjoy the feeling of the sunlight hitting your face because the second you step out of the door, Yuki is hanging out of the car window and yelling for you to hurry up.

Izuku had already packed the car - which was borrowed from his agency - so you ruffle Yuki's hair and hop right in. Once you're settled and Yuki is no longer hanging out the window like a loud and energetic puppy, Izuku sets off.

Izuku is a careful driver, so you relax into the journey, letting Yuki's chatter entertain you as he recounts all his plans for the day - most of which involve either activities like frisbee or fighting with Bakugou.

"I hope Kacchan had a good breakfast," Izuku murmurs to you in a rare moment of quiet, Yuki busy smushing the face of a teddy against the window and muttering to himself. "He's going to have the workout of his life today."

You smile knowingly. “Oh yeah, and this is just a taste of what he has to come. They haven’t even had any sleepovers yet - the showdown between Yuki and Bakugou at bedtime will surely be one for the ages.”

Izuku laughs, eyes bright with amusement even as they’re fixed on the road ahead. “Kacchan has always gone to bed ridiculously early, so maybe that’ll be a good influence?”

“You never know,” you say, then soften into a pleased smile. “All joking aside, they’ll be fine. I’ve never seen Yuki quite so at home with anyone as he is with Kirishima and Bakugou.”

Izuku hums in agreement. “They’ll be amazing parents.”

Any further conversation is shattered when Yuki catches sight of the park and lets loose a warcry that has you and Izuku wincing in tandem. You twist around, trying to encourage Yuki to stay sitting nicely in his seat while Izuku finds a parking spot.

The second the car is parked, Yuki is pulling at the door handle, and you're just ridiculously grateful for whoever invented the child lock system. Izuku grins at your well-worn exasperation, and manages to brush a quick kiss to your hand before you're both climbing out of the car.

"I can see them!" Yuki is shouting, his nose and little hands pressed against the car window. "Hey, look! I see them!"

You glance behind you to the park entrance, and sure enough, there's Kirishima, waving enthusiastically next to Bakugou, who is carrying a large bag and gives you a single nod in greeting - you don't miss the grin on his face as he watches Yuki, though.

"Alright, alright, let me get you out," you laugh, unbuckling Yuki from his carseat prison as he continues yelling greetings over your shoulder.

Izuku appears at your side, carrying a picnic basket under one arm and a rolled up blanket under the other.

"The car park's clear," he tells you, watching Yuki with delight as the boy strains against your hold on him.

“Oh, thank god. Okay Yuki, off you go!” You relinquish your grip on his hoodie, and like a greyhound let off the leash, Yuki immediately shoots away towards his nearly-dads.

Izuku laughs as you watch Yuki’s chubby little legs churning furiously as he races across the tarmac, arms pumping like an Olympic athlete. Kirishima and Bakugou cheer him on, shouting encouragement, both wreathed in wide grins.

“They’re going to be the noisiest family ever,” Izuku sighs happily. Shifting his burdens under one arm, he takes your hand with the other as you follow after Yuki. His hand is warm and broad in yours, and his thumb rubs affectionately over your skin, his familiar callouses slightly scratchy in the way that you love.

“Yep, and they’re going to enjoy every second, I think.”

As you watch, Kirishima crouches slightly, arms flung as wide as his grin to receive the incoming child. Yuki, on the other hand, isn’t quite so thoughtful in his approach, and you watch in mingled amusement and horror as he barrels literally headfirst into Kirishima’s crotch.

You know from experience how hard Yuki’s head is, and wince sympathetically as Kirishima immediately folds in two and collapses onto the floor. Yuki looks up at Bakugou worriedly, obviously concerned that he’s in trouble, but Bakugou takes one look at his partner on the floor, and bursts into cackling laughter. He ruffles Yuki’s hair with one hand, using him as a support as his laughter makes his knees weak, and the boy beams up at him.

“Oof, that’s gotta hurt,” Izuku murmurs to you, as you continue your leisurely path towards the small group. “Poor Kirishima!”

“Nah, he’s alright,” you say with a grin, watching as Kirishima climbs to his feet. “I think he’s going to get his revenge now.”

Sure enough, Kirishima prowls up behind Yuki, and when the boy is fully distracted by Bakugou, he grabs him and hurls him skyward. Yuki flies upward with a delighted shriek, kicking his legs as Kirishima catches him.

By the time you and Izuku reach them, Kirishima has Yuki slung over one shoulder in a fireman's hold.

“Hey guys!” he calls, completely unconcerned by Yuki’s thrashing and giggling. “Isn’t the weather awesome? We couldn’t have planned a better day if we tried!”

You trade greetings, managing a one-armed hug with Kirishima despite his small boy burden. Bakugou greets you both somewhat politely, but eyes the basket Izuku is carrying with a scowl.

“Oi, that better not be food, Deku. I told you I’d be bringing stuff, and there’s no way I’m eating anything your idiot hands have made!”

“Kacchan!” Izuku protests, but he’s smiling sunnily. “It’s just a few bits my mum made, she insisted I bring it.”

Bakugou seems slightly mollified at this. “If Auntie made it, then I guess it’s fine,” he grunts reluctantly, then turns to start walking into the park. “C’mon Ei, kid, time to get this fuc- uh, freaking picnic started.”

Snorting with laughter at the strain on Bakugou’s face at having to hold back his cursing, Kirishima turns and trots off, Yuki still flopped over one shoulder and helpless with laughter.

You walk hand in hand with Izuku, following your friends through the park. The sunlight is dazzling, and the park looks more beautiful than ever, every single leaf and blade of grass shining with the sheer aliveness of the season. You feel like you’re drenched in colour and warmth as you walk, and lean your head briefly on Izuku’s shoulder, sharing your enjoyment.

When you reach a large, open area of sweeping grass, broken here and there by the occasional tree for shade, you see that many of Izuku’s friends have already arrived. Blankets have been scattered across the grass in a haphazard but friendly manner, and Pro Heroes lounge in every direction you look.

Iida is first to greet you, taking your basket and blanket from Izuku to help him get set up, but he’s swiftly followed by Uraraka.

“Cake!” she cries, completely ignoring Izuku in favour of crashing into you, hugging you tightly and spinning you round. “I’m so glad you made it!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you tell her, laughing as she sets you down after smacking a big kiss on your cheek.

Izuku sticks his bottom lip out dramatically. “That’s it, then,” he says to you with a mournful look. “All my friends like you better, and I’m at the bottom of the list, now.”

“Yep!” Uraraka says, pushing her huge sunglasses onto her head and grinning unsympathetically. “We just use Deku to get to you!”

Izuku gives her a ferocious mock scowl, and then the two of them are locked in a battle as they jostle each other, grinning stupidly.

Todoroki suddenly materialises at your side, one cool hand on your elbow. “I need your help,” he murmurs urgently. “Oh, hello, by the way. Will you come with me?”

“Hi Todoroki,” you say, instantly curious, and let yourself be towed along.

He brings you to a blanket at the edge of the group, then stands there, looking slightly awkward despite his outwardly calm expression. You look down at the selection of items scattered across the blanket.

“A… hairbrush?” You step closer to inspect the brush, which is carefully laid out next to a selection of colourful bobby pins, clips, and hair bands.

“Yes,” Todoroki says without hesitation, and turns to you beseechingly. “Please, would you do my hair in a nice braid again?”

You grin widely. “Of course!”

It’s a bare moment’s work to have Todoroki seated in front of you, sitting peacefully with his hands on his knees as you begin running the brush through his long hair.

Izuku appears after a moment, smiling at Shouto’s pleased air, his eyes closed in an oddly gentle expression as you begin separating his hair into strands.

Sitting next to you, Izuku leans comfortably against your shoulder, chatting as you begin braiding, and you relax fully into the enjoyment of this simple moment. It’s incredible to feel that Izuku’s friends really are becoming yours, too, and that you can have these small pockets of closeness whenever you like.

As he talks, Izuku idly runs one hand up and down your spine, until all three of you are drowsy and comfortable in the sun, lounging bonelessly on the warm blanket like cats.

Eventually, you pat Todoroki’s shoulder to indicate that you’re finished. You'd gone for as elaborate a braid as you could manage, and had made use of some of the colourful accessories, since Todoroki had clearly brought them on purpose. The end result is elegant and beautiful against his fine-boned features, and yet somehow sweetly innocent.

“Wow, Shouto, it looks so pretty!” Izuku’s smile is dazzling as he takes in your handiwork, lifting the ends of Todoroki's hair with delicate fingers, then plants a kiss on your cheek. “You’re so good at that!”

“It’s wonderful what a sober pair of hands can achieve,” you say with a smile, remembering your last, much more clumsy attempt.

Todoroki peers into his phone camera, then turns to you, eyes gleaming. “I love it. Will you teach me how to do it?”

“Of course, anytime!”

Todoroki nods solemnly, as if you'd just made a pact of the utmost importance, then returns to his phone. A moment later, you hear the distinct noise of a video call.

“Hello, Shouto. What a nice surprise!”

Izuku jolts at the sound of his mother’s voice coming from Todoroki’s phone, and you both sit up a little more so you can watch the conversation better.

“Hello Inko,” Todoroki murmurs. “Are you well? Look, I had my hair done, Izuku says it’s very pretty.”

Inko studies her side of the call carefully, then smiles widely. She’s crooked in the video frame, and slightly too close to the camera. “Oh, sweetie, how lovely! It really suits you like that - but then you’ve always had the most beautiful hair.”

To your utter delight, Todoroki practically preens as she fusses over him, like a puppy being told that it’s a good boy for the first time. It’s endearing to see him, such a composed and powerful Pro Hero, reduced to a pleased smile under Inko’s motherly attentions.

Izuku laughs under his breath, then reaches out with a lazy hand and tugs Todoroki backwards so that his camera is tilted to capture all three of you. Inko’s eyes widen when she catches sight of you and Izuku, and her whole face creases into a huge beam.

“Hello darlings! Are you all having a nice time? I hope the food I made is okay, it’s quite hot in the sun, so make sure you keep it in the shade, okay?” It’s hard to tell through the camera, but you think her eyes settle on you. “And I assume we have you to thank for Shouto’s pretty hair, since neither of these boys have displayed any hair skill before today? You did a brilliant job, honey!”

“Oh, thank you!” You suddenly feel a kinship with Todoroki, as Inko’s sincere compliment spreads warmth through your chest, and you feel yourself blushing like a shy child. Todoroki nods knowingly at you, and Izuku laughs again, his fingers sliding across the blanket and tangling with yours.

“Ah, it’s over, Shouto. First you ousted me, and now we’ve both been replaced by the new favourite child,” he says, his dramatic sigh somewhat spoiled by the big smile on his face.

“Don’t be silly, Izuku!” Inko scolds. “You’ll always be my sweet baby boy, no matter how big and old you get!”

Izuku’s face instantly flames bright red, and you share an amused look with Todoroki. Before Izuku can recover from his embarrassment, a shadow falls over your blanket, and the phone is suddenly plucked right out of Todoroki’s hand.

“Oi, Auntie! Never mind that nerd, you’ve got the best right here!”

Bakugou looms over your small group, holding Yuki in the crook of one arm, and Todoroki’s phone in the other hand. He’s grinning viciously into the camera as Inko begins an outpouring of affection. Meanwhile, Yuki just looks happy to be firmly in Bakugou’s clutches.

“When he said ‘the best’, was he talking about himself or Yuki?” you ask quietly.

Izuku stares at Bakugou with the eager intensity of a biologist who’s just discovered a new species. “For once, I’m genuinely not sure!” he breathes with some amazement.

“Who knew that becoming a father would be the thing to finally get a handle on Bakugou’s ego?” Todoroki says, and then raises an eyebrow. “Or maybe his pride will just be directed through Yuki, now.”

“Either way, Yuki looks ridiculously happy,” you tell them, and they both smile fondly.

“Yeah, and so does Kacchan.”

The three of you lounge contentedly on the blanket, watching Bakugou and Yuki showboat to Inko for several minutes, until Todoroki suddenly tenses up.

“Izuku, please get my phone from Bakugou when Inko is finished talking to him,” he says quietly, running his fingers down the smooth pattern of his braid. He barely waits for Izuku’s agreement before rising and padding off across the grass.

Izuku makes a noise of curiosity, and you both watch Todoroki with interest. He picks his way through the maze of blankets and heroes, slowing as he reaches the edge of the group, and you see that Kaminari and Sero have just arrived, brandishing what looks like some kind of sports equipment.

Todoroki heads straight for Sero, who immediately dumps his armful on a staggering Kaminari and turns to Todoroki with a wide, blinding grin. Todoroki’s returning smile is smaller, but still visible even at this distance.

“Ah,” Izuku says wisely. “He wanted to show Sero his hair.”

Sure enough, Todoroki tilts his head slightly for inspection, and you watch Sero’s body language grow bright and excited as they talk. After a minute, Kaminari joins them, making finger guns at Todoroki in a clear compliment. Kirishima is quick to follow, clapping all his friends on the back heartily in greeting, and their small group slowly grows.

Izuku watches Todoroki with a warm expression, seeming pleased as he socialises with everyone. Todoroki is still somewhat a mystery to you - he’s somehow confident and awkward at the same time, and has a strange innocence despite his dry sense of humour - but you look forward to learning more about him in time from Izuku’s stories.

You and Izuku don’t get to stay relaxing for long, as Iida swiftly begins organising a tournament of sorts, lining up games and sociable sports for everyone to enjoy. Initially, you’re nervous about Yuki being allowed to join in, especially as you feel a hotly competitive atmosphere rising with every second, but nobody else seems to blink twice at the small boy’s inclusion into the group, and in fact, they seem to take great joy in tossing him about between them. Your remaining concern melts away entirely when you see that both Kirishima and Bakugou are watching Yuki with sharp eyes, even as they join in the activities themselves, and you know he’s in good hands.

Despite Iida’s firm insistence that quirks are not allowed, you soon find yourself at a complete disadvantage. Even without their various powers, Pro Heroes all train fiercely, and every single one of them is outstandingly fit.

You don’t have a chance to get left out, however, since Izuku seems to always be hovering nearby, ready with a spare hand and a bright smile to boost you any time you start falling behind in the games. At one point, you’re sure you see him trip several of his friends, but when you catch his eye, he just grins innocently at you.

The competition ends with Bakugou and Uraraka locked in a fierce wrestling match. Yuki screams his support for Bakugou from his seat on Kirishima’s shoulders, but despite this passionate cheerleading, Bakugou is eventually pinned and Iida declares a flushed Uraraka the indisputable winner.

“They fight like that at least once a year,” Izuku informs you, as you help him unpack the picnic basket. “Ever since the sports festival in our first year they have had this ongoing competition, but they’re too evenly matched for one of them to properly draw ahead.”

“Looks like they just enjoy the fight, if you ask me,” you tell him, watching as Bakugou tackles Yuki around the waist and flops down onto a blanket with him, looking more carefree than he has all day.

Izuku laughs. “Yeah, to be honest, we all do! I became a hero so I can save people, but the thrill of a good fight is definitely a perk.”

The park is filled with bright chatter and laughter as everyone flocks to the food, scattered across the blankets like a large, comfortable family. Inko’s picnic food is, as expected, completely delicious, but you’re surprised to discover that Bakugou’s offerings are just as good.

The sun climbs in the sky, and the combination of warmth and a comfortably full stomach starts to make you feel drowsy. As everyone falls into a stupor, Izuku drags your picnic blanket into a patch of cool shade slightly to one side. Drawing you down to lie next to him, he rolls up his sweatshirt to cushion your head, and then pillows his own on your stomach.

“This has been so much fun,” you tell him sleepily, combing through his sun-warmed curls.

Izuku sighs softly. “It really has.” He tilts his head to catch your eye. “I always have fun with everyone, but having you here as well has just made everything feel so much brighter.”

“I just feel lucky to be part of such an amazing group of people. Your friends are really wonderful.”

Izuku nods, catching your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your palm.

You lie quietly, caught between watching the leaves above you rustling in the breeze, and gazing at Izuku. Every single part of you feels utterly relaxed, warmed by sunlight on the outside, and warmed by Izuku’s affection on the inside. This, you think, is one of those perfect moments in life that deserved to be captured and frozen in time, a perfect snapshot of happiness.

Izuku stirs, his eyes heavily lidded as he shifts to lie directly next to you and takes your hand in his. His skin is warm, and the press of his palm against yours is both familiar and thrilling.

An overwhelming sense of gratitude wells up in you without warning.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you say, squeezing his hand tightly. “But I hope I can keep doing it.”

Izuku raises himself up on one elbow, leaning over you so that he can watch your face more easily. He’s caught the sun slightly, you think, seeing the burn of pink across his nose, promising a fresh sweep of freckles when it fades. His free hand floats up to cup your chin gently.

“You didn’t need to do anything except be yourself,” Izuku says, and the bare honesty in his voice has your heart pounding. He ducks his head, brushing across your cheek until your lips meet, and then Izuku kisses you until your every thought and breath is full of him. He pulls away slightly, and there’s a sudden ferocity in his eyes as he strokes his thumb across your cheekbone. “And you still don’t need to do anything, because you’re stuck with me for good, now.”

“Thank god for that,” you whisper, and suddenly you’re both just grinning at each other, stupidly happy and ridiculously in love.

“Um, will you go on a date with me?” Izuku says suddenly, flushing as you smile incredulously at him. “I mean, I know we do things together all the time, but this is something particular that I really want to do with you!” He sits up without warning, and you watch curiously as he rummages in the bottom of the picnic basket, finally withdrawing a thick white envelope.

Sitting up yourself, you eye the envelope with interest. “You know I’d love to go on any kind of date with you, Izuku.”

He thrusts the envelope towards you, excitement kindling in his face. “Here!”

The envelope is unmarked, and Izuku just makes a small, impatient noise when you look at him questioningly, so you open it without hesitating further.

Happiness and laughter burst out of your chest when you pull out two tickets to the museum. Tucking them back into the envelope, you put it carefully to one side, and then fling yourself bodily at Izuku. He falls back onto the grass with a surprised yelp, but his arms close around you easily.

“You want to take me to the museum?”

“Back to where it all started,” Izuku agrees, looking both embarrassed and pleased at your excitement. “That’s where I first fell for you, after all. I thought… maybe we can make some happier memories to replace the ones of Cthulhu.”

Your heart squeezes at his kindness; he’s always so thoughtful of your feelings. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes as your mind fills with images of walking hand in hand with Izuku through the museum exhibits. There’s no regret about that day, not when it led you to Izuku and everything wonderful that’s happened since, but somehow it does feel important to visit the place together in strength.

“So, what do you think?” Izuku sounds hopeful as his hands skate up and down your arms.

Propping yourself up, you smile down at him. “I’d love to,” you tell him sincerely, and feel your smile widen into a cheeky grin. “And who knows, maybe I’ll meet a hero to fall in love with, hm?”

Izuku laughs, eyes filled with the reflection of the sky. “No, you’ve got it all backwards. I’m the one who fell in love with a hero.” He kisses your nose. “Just to be super clear, I’m talking about you.”

And lying there with him in the sun-warmed grass, you have a split-second of seeing yourself as Izuku does; as someone who is eminently lovable, someone worthy of every good promise the future holds for them; as someone with a hero’s instincts.