Chapter Text
Izuku wakes up to the smell of something strange. Your scent has been off for the past two weeks, and he couldn’t pinpoint it. Two weeks ago, it was the sweetest he’s ever smelled you. It was torture. He broke so many things that week, trying to control the primal urge to mount you like an animal on the nearest surface.
Today, it’s weird? Izuku unwraps his arms from around you and takes a subtle sniff. He notices something too, he’s not rock hard nor is his skin on fire.
Strange.
Wait. It smells metallic almost. It— like blood?
Jade eyes pop open, frantically looking around the room as panic sets in. His eyes peer down to see that dark blood covers your thighs and the bed below you.
He sighs in relief. It was just your period.
Izuku stiffens. Ohhhh shit.
Your period.
Something that you haven’t had in years.
Izuku’s jaw slacks as he stares at the blood around your pajama-clad thighs. He’s always able to figure out when it came from the scent change. That’s why his mother always was able to make your favorite candy-coated apples for it. He completely didn’t even think of this as the reason for your scent fluctuations.
He cards his hand through his hair before he grimaces. His scalp now feels damp in some areas compared to others.
Ah, crap. Izuku looks at his sticky, scarred hand, marred with dark maroon and scarlet splotches. He definitely got it in his hair.
Emerald orbs peer down at his legs and shorts. It was definitely on his blue shorts too.
He exhales a breath softly through his nose. Does she even have anything for this? Let me go check the bathroom.
When Izuku gets up and pads to the bathroom. The smell of you on his hands and the twinge of metal is oddly dizzying and mouth-watering, and he briefly considers not washing his hands. He does, anyway.
Izuku quietly checked all of the drawers —dismissing the sex toys he found in one of them—as he suspected. You have nothing for your period.
He wasn’t dumb. He lived with his mother until he had to sleep in the dorms at UA. Inko taught him everything he needed to know about the menstrual cycle and the different types of products available. He knew how to apply a pad on underwear, what can soothe cramps, organic vs. not organic feminine products, reusable options, and some—all thanks to Mama Midoriya.
He looks around the stark white bathroom and sighs slowly. He would have to wake you up to ask what you usually preferred.
Actually…
He swallows his spit. He grabs his cell phone from the nightstand and walks to the kitchen. He presses on a contact name and presses his ear to the receiver as it rings.
“Yesssssssssss~?”
Izuku’s eye twitches at the sing-songy tone. Was this a bad idea?
“Hi, good morning. I uh—” Lips press together into a firm line as heat crawls up his neck. How the hell can he ask your brother this question?
“Spit it out, Midoriya. I’m a very busy man, and it’s only 6:18 in the morning. I still have a date with my bed until 8 AM.”
“Do you know what your sister liked in terms of…” He swallows. “Femininehygiene?” He rushes it out.
Silence fills the air as Izuku notices the now awake leopard stride toward him.
“Hold on, I wrote it all down in — aha. I’ll send you the document with it all.”
Izuku pales, “D-document?”
“Well, duh. I’ve highlighted what foods she tends to dislike on her periods, what foods she likes eating, favorite junk food, brands of heating pads she likes, brands of her favorite products, body washes because her body gets more sensitive to scented stuff—anyways, all of it is outlined there. Okay? Now bye.”
The phone call clicks.
Izuku exhales through his nose as he looks at his phone and opens the message.
“Her weird brother tell you yet?”
Izuku flinches at the sudden deep voice and looks down at Kuro. Izuku clears his throat, taking in the translucent yellow sphere around them. His eyes flit back to the leopard, then his phone.
“Yeah, he has a whole document of it, actually.” Izuku’s thumb presses the document open and furrows his green brows. The document is color coded and titled “My adorable sisters period guide.”
“Oh god,” he mutters, flicking his thumb to search for a specific highlighted section.
“You know you could have just texted him.”
“I didn’t think of that,” Izuku trails off as he scrolls through the device. Seconds tick by before Kuro’s tail swishes with impatience.
“Press the find button, nimwit.”
Izuku pauses, moving his eyes from the screen to the lightly spotted leopard. “Pardon? Do you know how to use a phone?”
“Yes, you dumb ass. It’s not hard.”
“I’m not d-dumb—”
Kuro rolls his blue and green eyes, “Says the dumb ass with period blood in his hair like it’s gel.”
Kuro 1. Izuku 0.
How the hell did he know about periods?
“You know, you remind me an awful lot of someone I used to know,” Izuku says through his teeth with a terse smile.
“What? Your brain before it escaped from your skull?”
Kuro 2. Izuku 0
This snow leopard is Kaa-chan reincarnated.
The curly-haired hero decides not to say anything to the feline. Instead, he continues to scroll through the small device until he finds the highlighted section, “Favorite menstrual products <3 (edited four years ago).”
“Got it.”
Izuku showers and places the soiled clothes to wash before leaving your apartment with your snow leopard. He runs with the feline to AEON(Japanese equivalent to a Target or ALDIs). It was about a forty-minute walk, but with him running with Kuro by his side, it took about 18 minutes. He tells Kuro to stay put before he speeds through every aisle to find most of the products you prefer except a heating pad that seems like a higher quality than the one mentioned in the document, and some stain-removing detergent. He also finds your favorite comfort foods and other ingredients your brother had listed as a step-by-step preparation guide.
Again, your brother is very strange.
Once Izuku is satisfied and done paying, Kuro rolls his eyes at him.
“What? It’s not that much…Right?”
Kuro huffs and shakes his head. Izuku grabs the almost belly button-height feline like another bag of groceries and draws the energy of his quirk to rush back to your apartment.
Two minutes later, he sets Kuro down, who hisses at him from the travel.
“Sorry, I just didn’t want to risk her getting a nightmare again,” Izuku says sheepishly as he unlocks your apartment door. The cat snorts before sneezing, and walks with wobbly legs into the apartment. A bright blue glow surrounds him as the leopard saunters back to your bedroom.
Izuku quickly sets the groceries down on the counter, and puts away the food and snacks he got you before entering your room. A calloused hand opens a specific drawer and riffs through to find an oversized shirt that looks familiar and a pair of black sweatpants.
His forest green orbs flick to the middle drawer. Izuku closes his eyes and sighs. Nope.
He’s not taking out underwear for you, especially with what happened to a particular pair of purple panties that he was involved with.
His fingers twitch.
Don’t do it.
He swallows as he continues looking at the drawer.
Sweat starts to bead on his forehead.
Don’t do it.
He licks his suddenly dry lips.
Don’t
He does.
He blindly grabs a black pair of panties, almost slams the drawer, and stuffs it in between the shirt and pants.
Izuku pads over to the bathroom and sets your clothes on top of the counter, right next to some of your favorite candles that he remembered to grab and a brand new lighter. He places a green post-it note on your folded clothes to inform you that your menstrual products are inside the middle drawer. He turns on the shower to the nearly scalding; the hellish temperature is something that you prefer. He doesn’t forget to place the new body wash your brother suggested right in between his and yours.
He does a mental countdown before he wakes you up.
When he wakes you up, you are horrified, to say the least. You are embarrassed and apologizing with near tears in your eyes until he practically scoops you up and dumps you in the bathroom to shut you up. Izuku grabs all the sheets and loads your washer with them after removing his clothes and hanging them on your balcony. He could have gone downstairs to the laundry room for this, but, there was a certain old man there that gave him the creeps the way he looked at Izuku’s clothes being washed.
Meanwhile, you call your doctor on the toilet covered in dark red liquid.
“What do you mean this is normal?”
“Ms. (L/n)-san, you’ve hit a healthy weight a few months ago and maintained it. It’s normal for your period to return once you’ve reached a normal weight. The heavy flow might be partly from it being so long since your uterine lining has shed. After looking at your chart, I see your last recorded period was about three years ago. I can prescribe you something for your cramps or any discomfort you may have.
“W-will the next one be this bad?” As you tap your feet on the cold tile, you gnaw at your bottom lip.
“I’ll prescribe you some birth control as well so that the next cycle should not be as heavy as this one.”
Birth control.
Wow. You haven’t heard that word in so long.
“Is there any way I could get something that isn’t the pill? In America, they had different options when I was in school there.”
“Oh, we can only offer the pill or the IUD. That’s the only thing available in the country.”
You sigh and rub your forehead. You hated the pill. The responsibility of taking it every day on time was a mess and not to mention all of those hormones in your body. The IUD was terrible when you did get it fit and made you scream like a banshee. Then you were good and got it removed when Katsuki died. Because who were you having sex with? No one.
Eh, fuck it.
“Sure, I’ll take the pill. The same one that you gave me years ago.” You hear some typing and a few clicks before she confirms your pharmacy address. You tell her the information still remains the same.
“Remember, it’s an out-of-pocket cost. Insurance does not cover it, okay?”
You roll your eyes, “I hear you.” It’s misogyny at its finest, but you’d pay the price for it.
After you shower and throw your clothes in the trash can because blood is not easy to take out in a washing machine if you’ve been soaking in it.
You thank Izuku for everything (again), especially for his strange knowledge of your favorite menstrual products. You try to give him money, but the pro-hero refuses politely and asks what you would like to eat for breakfast instead. You sulk a bit before you oblige him and tell him that whatever he wants, you’d eat it. Coincidentally (or not), a fuzzy blanket was draped on the couch, which you draped on top of yourself, and Kuro happily joined you as a faux heating pad.
You turn on your TV and play the new season of Bleach. You had just finished re-watching the last season of the original series, which ended ten years ago. Now that the new season was out, the feelings of watching your favorite spikey orange-haired teen didn’t seem to dampen.
After a few minutes of absorbing yourself in the anime, you squeal at seeing your favorite ginger. You practically have hearts in your eyes.
“Ahh, he’s so freaking cool! Kuro, look, my anime boyfriend.” You say while jumping up and down on the couch, brimming with excitement. Kuro takes a side glance at the screen, then scoffs. The white snow leopard is not entertained by your fangirling at all.
“If they could age him up by ten years, we’d be around the same age. Someone might have a quirk out there to make him come to life or something.”
A certain green-haired hero pauses in his chopping to look at you blankly from the kitchen. Why is everyone obsessed with this guy?
Izuku looks at the screen with bland interest, “You know, in a way, he kinda reminds me of Ka—”
You squeal and almost melt off the grey sectional couch, “Look Kuro, he’s soooooo hot.”
Did you forget that there was another human in your house? Did you not listen to him at all?
Izuku’s eye twitches as he watches you lean forward, watching the screen with rapt attention. You’ve never looked at anyone like that. Well, your late husband was the only exception.
I’m not jealous of an under-aged 2-dimensional character. I, Midoriya Izuku, am not jealous of an under-aged 2-dimensional character .
Thud.
You look back from your couch to see your brother, Etsuko, and your parents at your door. Izuku already smelled them as soon as they were about to unlock the door.
“What did I tell you about slamming my door?! Do you pay rent here, you little shit?” You yell, gripping the backrest of the couch.
“You’re the one watching Bleach without your family! Why don’t you love your own father?” your father cries dramatically as he dabs a handkerchief on the corner of his eyes.
“Mr. (L/n), according to the app, she’s still on the first episode of Thousand Year Blood War .” Etsuko reminds him, patting his arm. They all shuffle in, taking off their shoes at the genkan before Izuku turns back to fixing breakfast.
“What is with this whole family? You’d think I’d get used to them by now,” Izuku mutters under his breath.
“Ah, Zu-kun? What are you doing at (nickname)-chan’s apartment?”
Izuku turns to his small mother with a Bleach sweatshirt walking next to him with some green slippers. It looks innocent enough, but the twinkle in her eye says differently. He already knows that look, and it makes him nervous .
How did she even get here this fast? How did I not smell my own mother? Strange.
“M-mom! What –”
A shriek cuts him off as your mother rushes towards you, “Please tell me my dreams have finally come true, and you both are getting married?!”
Kuro snorts and grabs the TV remote from beside you with his mouth. The snow leopard intelligently pauses the TV screen as other people begin shuffling into your home; surprisingly you had enough house slippers.
“M-mom, can you not? We are friends.” You sigh as a sharp painful throb in your temples makes you shut your eyes.
“Friends don’t make each other breakfast at 8 in the morning. Your dad and I aren’t getting any younger,” She smirks as she waggles her (h/c) eyebrows.
“Also, speaking of which, I made this for you with some left-over fabric from work. I made a new cardigan for you when it starts getting cold. You should consider moving out of this small apartment and getting a house again.”
She hands you the folded item when you unravel it in front of you. The front of the cardigan looked well stitched in a classic v-neck shape and large cream-colored buttons. The oversized look was adorable, along with the large front pockets. You turn it around. The smile wipes off your face while your mother’s smile grows to rival the Joker. Your eye twitches as you hold it up.
‘Engaged to Number 1 Pro Hero’ is stitched in bold green lettering on the back of the cream-colored cardigan.
Your mother is decked out in a Bleach-themed onesie that she probably made herself because it is tailored perfectly. Her hair is pinned up with a black claw clip, and if it weren’t for how adorable she looked, you would have thrown this right back in her face.
“Mom, are you nuts?!” You shout as you feel your cheeks warm with embarrassment. You ball up the fabric in your hands before you throw it behind you.
Your mother pouts cutely, and your father walks over and picks up the cardigan, “Now (Y/n), we taught you better than to throw a gift on the floor.”
“Speaking about gifts, Bakugo’s parents sent us your birthday gift. For some reason, the return address is in America. Should we keep it?”
“Yes, we should, honey. But, I think that’s almost like a bad omen if she receives it. He’s dead, so a clean break is good.”
Your father scratches his chin, thinking, “But would that be wrong of us? They weren’t directly involved in their relationship. Not that we liked the kid much anyways but—”
“No, she has Izuku-san now. We need to focus on our future grandchildren no—”
“Guys, stop setting them up already. He’s already a divorcee and half of Japan is probably trying to message him on social media as we speak,” Your brother waves off as Etsuko walks over to the kitchen to push Izuku out.
Your father goes in to help.
“Izuku-san, you’re actually getting better at chopping up vegetables. I’m impressed!” Your father compliments as he looks over the julienne sliced onions and nearly perfectly cubed root vegetables.
Should I crawl into a hole and die?
“(nickname)-chan, I’m going to put your candy apples in your fridge, okay?” You hear Mama Midoriya say, and you want to hug this tiny woman.
You turn around and give the small green-haired woman a watery smile. “Thank you for such a wonderful gift. How can I thank you for such kindness?”
“Oooo can I have one? I’m on my period, and I would love—”
Izuku turns to the mauve-haired woman clad in a similar onesie set as your mother but with the same design as his mother’s sweater.
“So, it was you,” he whispers more to himself than to anyone else. She is the lead uterus , and (Y/N) is synched to her.
“Huh? Speak up!”
“Oh, so you’ve infected my sister with your menstrual cycle. It makes sense. You both were synched for years beforehand too.” Your brother smiles as he elbows your father. Your father pales in realization as he stops chopping the vegetables, “Please don’t remind me of that dark time.”
Izuku opens his mouth to speak, but instead, he closes his mouth. He’s very confused, but he’d rather not know.
Once breakfast was ready and served, the apartment walls filled with laughter, yelling, and curses over the dining table you had next to the balcony. Kuro ate near the table from his black bowl that contained mixed chunks of raw wild boar and baby deer meat with two blueberries and his required vitamins. Occasionally, you could hear the snow leopard crunch on a particular bone to get the meat inside.
After breakfast, you brushed Kuro’s teeth with the most oversized toothbrush commercially available for animals, and you took him out for a walk with your brother. Your father presents you with a brown saddle which you vaguely remember your brother mentioning. You immediately turn it down before Kuro paws at it curiously before looking at you.
There was no way in hell you would ride your feline like a horse. Kuro is huge, but that doesn’t mean his shoulders were equipped to burden your weight for long periods of time.
Instead, you turn on your TV, and the whole idea is long forgotten.
Your parents prepare lunch and dinner throughout the day, and you are more than happy to eat homemade food from your childhood. Especially considering that your hormones have been wacky all day, particularly when you laugh-cried as you watched a sappy movie about a dog who waited for his owner even though he was dead. You walked Kuro for forty-five minutes after lunch, and Izuku decided to take Kuro on a late-night run after dinner. When everyone left, Kuro was tuckered out on your lap as you wiped his paws with some soothing pet wipes before slathering his toe beans with some medicated cream to heal whatever burns he might have experienced walking on the hot concrete floor (even though the cat was more than capable of healing himself).
Izuku walks into the living room, and you hold back your scowl at his figure. His hair is completely drenched and dripping heavily on the white towel around his shoulders.
“Izuku-kun, do you like it when I get mad at you?”
Yes.
“H-huh?”.
You quirk up a brow as you gesture to his dark wavy-haired locks.
“Your hair. You’re gonna catch a cold if you don’t dry it properly,” you chide softly before gently moving the snow leopard. You stand up and pad to your bathroom to grab your hair dryer. On your way back, he’s already protesting, trying to scrub the water away from his scalp.
“You don’t have to! I’ll be fine— “
You shush him by tip-toeing up and pressing an index finger to his lips. You ignored how soft his lips were despite you’ve never seen him use chapstick a day in his life. You also ignore how adorable those freckles on his face were under the slight rosy hue of his cheeks.
Let’s also forget the way my finger feels like a live wire , you quip internally.
“Shh. It’s the least I could do after you just cleaned up my mess this morning.”
You pull your finger away and walk to the sofa, plugging in the hair dryer to the extension chord already there.
Eventually, Izuku folds under peer pressure.
You card through his soft forest locks, waving the blow-dryer around nonsensically while he sat on the floor. Your legs dangle around his form by his arms, touching his arms. The raspy hum of the blow-dryer and your blunt fingernails scratching his scalp—this was his favorite part of the day. The warm air relaxes his nerves as he feels the bitter chill of his damp hair slowly fade.
“I feel like you like it when I blow dry your hair,” you smile as you pause your blow drying. You spray a bit of leave-in into his hair that you bought from online—one that thankfully smelled mild enough and not an explosion of coconut.
Izuku makes a humming sound as you pass the warm air on t the damp locks, paying particular attention to preserving the waves and curls formed.
“This is becoming a regular thing with us, you little evil cinnamon roll,” you emphasize by poking his cheeks.
“I’m not a cinnamon roll. I’m a hero…” he mutters under his breath. There was no bite in his tone.
“Huh? Speak up. Or do I have to tickle it out of you?” You take a hand and reach down to tickle his ribs, but his calloused hand pushes your mischievous digits away.
“Stop it.”
All you heard was keep going.
You try again, and he deflects.
Suddenly it was just like you were both teens again—how you would joke around in the hushed space of bookshelves and wooden tables. The way Izuku would laugh freely when you said a joke about Mineta or Aizawa. His green eyes would glitter with held-back laughter and fondness when you talked about your new research on pro heroes and trends that you were very outdated on.
You jump on him like a spider monkey, using some of the moves you learned from the hero against him to straddle his waist and poke his ribs. The green-haired man is squirming under you with his eyes screwed shut.
“Admit it!” Poke, poke, poke .
The short pokes weren’t aimless at all. You know exactly where he’s ticklish just from being around him so long. So, you aim for it; under his armpits, external obliques, and a small spot above his belly button. Each only made him flinch as he screwed his lips even more before releasing a higher-pitched shriek, which was very unhero-like. Izuku threw his head back with a thud on the solid wood floor before laughing and babbling useless pleas.
He was fine, you think.
Poke poke poke poke .
“NAHAHA, STOO—HAHA”
“Admit that this is becoming a regular thing!” You cackle as your chest hums with the satisfaction of bringing down your childhood best friend with your own fingers. His face is getting increasingly pink as your fingers crawl at the sides of his black t-shirt.
Deep down, you weren’t doing this because you wanted to get back at him. You hadn’t seen him smile or laugh this whole week, which bothered you. Seeing him squirming with laughter made something in your chest feel fuzzy and warm.
“HAHAHEHE I-I CAHAHAHAN’T!”
You bow your head as your fingers crawl over to a spot that you know would have him squealing like a pig.
“I can’t hear you Mr. Hero~. It seems like we’re gonna have to move on to the special tickle spot!”
Emerald eyes pop open as he tries to protest, but it all falls on deaf ears as your fingers gently poke at his hipbone on his left side, and all his muscles tense as a hearty laugh spills from his lips. His longer legs flail beneath you as his stomach muscles clench underneath your hips.
Tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he laughs wildly.
“EHEHEHAHAHAHA!”
After a few seconds of reveling in his laughter, your vision blurs before your hands are pinned above your head, and your positions are suddenly flipped, but your legs are still wrapped around Izuku’s form. His hips are pressed against yours as your faces are a few inches apart. Warmth crawls up your neck at the compromising position.
You gulp as you stare at the hero owlishly and completely confused. Your heart is hammering beneath your ribs as you could feel your oversized shirt did nothing to hide the fact that you weren’t exactly wearing a bra.
Izuku tilts his head with a boyish smirk, still panting a little as he tightens his hand’s grip on both your wrists.
“You know that wasn’t very nice of you, right?”
Your mind swirls as your throat dries. He looks breathtaking—your brain completely short circuits.
Kiss him.
Izuku leans a bit back as he notices you staring blankly at him.
“Are you okay? Am I being too rough—”
“Truth or a lie?” You barely whisper as you hold eye contact with his celadon eyes. Izuku knits his brows as he peers at your eyes, trying to search for any underlying meaning in the glassy orbs. Your eyes are starting to dilate from the proximity of his scent, and he’s already cursing at himself.
“Truth, always the truth.” His voice is soft, akin to a coo.
The air between you feels charged, brimmed with unspoken emotions and feelings that one aches to let the other know.
“What was that deal you had with Katsuki for your wedding? The reason why I wasn’t invited?”
The words feel like you’re dumping a full bucket of icy-cold water on his head.
Suddenly, Izuku inhales a sharp breath before he blinks and releases your wrists. He scrubs a hardened hand over his face as he gets off you, averting your eyes. He sits on the floor near you, his large back resting on the cloth-covered grey base bottom. His elbows are on his knees as he cards a hand through his pine green damp curls.
“I thought we were past this,” he exhales before looking up at your apartment ceiling.
You prop yourself up with an arm, “Past this? I never found out what was the reason for any of it. I basically stopped talking to you for months for not inviting me to your wedding. I changed your name on my phone to your whole name.”
Izuku raises a quizzical brow.
“Y-you know—never mind that, it doesn’t matter. Everyone seems to know what this was except the person who wasn’t invited, and I want the truth.”
You look at your mint green fuzzy socks. The bold text reads “Deku!” on one foot across your toes, and “The Number 1 Pro Hero!” on the other foot.
You gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip before you add, “I feel left out of the loop.”
“You should have asked Kaa-chan.”
You roll your eyes. Was this man serious?
“Well, I’m asking you now.”
“I can’t. You should’ve asked him.”
“Well, he’s dead, so…” Your tone held a bit of underlying sarcasm. Izuku scrunched his nose at it.
“That’s not funny, (Y/n).”
“I never said it was funny,” the anger inside you suddenly spikes tenfold, “But if you want me to be funny, I could be fucking hilarious right now. Your ex-wife lied to my face about it and tried to give me a bullshit excuse. As if I didn’t work in a place that analyzes Pro-hero interviews for hours to see every flinch, tick, blink, and smile. And, to add insult to injury, I’m now a dumb ass with a paperweight for a degree from one of the top universities in Japan.”
Izuku looks at you incredulously. You were just fine, and now you’ve exploded. He obviously wasn’t prepared to handle your sudden anger.
You chuckle sardonically, “So let’s try this again. What was the deal?”
“I swore to him I’d never tell you,” You heard him grit out.
You look around the room before you scoff, “Am I being punk’d? Does the words’ Bakugo Katsuki’s been dead for three and half years’ mean nothing? He’s not going to come out of his grave and tell you—”
“(Y/n), stop,” Izuku warns, but you can barely hear him over your simmering irritation.
“—‘You’re dead to me’ or an ‘I’ll kill you because you promised not to say it.’ Because surprise, his body had been burned into ashes and kept in a pretty urn at his parent’s house. So, there isn’t a body to come out of his damn grave—”
“(Y/n) that’s enough,” Izuku says firmly. You stop speaking and glare at your long-time friend. His expression is stern, all the joy and mirth from moments ago, gone.
You pinch the skin at the bridge of your nose.
“You know w— Fuck this,” You mutter more to yourself before you shake your head.
You stand up and stride to your apartment door. You hastily place some sneakers on before you grab your phone and a light jacket.
“Where are you going?” Izuku looks back from the couch before his eyes catch the time on his wrist.
“Out because I need to clear my head before I strangle you. Unless I’m not allowed to know or do anything since you can’t tell me the truth .”
“I never said I didn’t want to, I can’t. Plus, it’s almost midnight—”
“So?” You snap.
“It’s already late out, and it’s—”
“Are you my fath—”
That— whenever you said that, it never fails to flip the switch inside Izuku.
His green brows pull together, creasing his forehead as emerald orbs harden.
“Finish that sentence, and I swear to everything (Y/n) I will punish you like one.”
You stare at his blazing neon green orbs as he looks at you. His jaw is tight, and his pink lips are pressed into a thin line.
You snicker, puffing out your cheeks before you start laughing.
“Ppppffffttttt! Oooo~ I’m shaking! What are you going to do? Give me a time-out?” You sneer as you clutch your arms and give a fake shiver.
Was she always this bratty?
“I’m sorry Mr. I’m-doing-this-to-fufill-my-childhood-friend’s-dying-wish. Let me rephrase myself,” You glare at the pro hero, who is now standing a few feet away with his arms crossed. “Eat a dick Izuku.”
Izuku tried carding through his memories with you every time you’ve gotten mad at him. Yes. Yes, you are like this when mad.
“What, running away again? You could do better than that because that response lacked originality.” His mouth curls into a mocking sneer.
You respond by slamming the door to your apartment.
Fucking hot pro heroes with their heads in their asses, you thought as you wiped an angry tear that fell from your eyes.
You stride aimlessly down a few streets before you land in front of a 7-11, where you grab a bottle of soju and a large bottle of water. You take it to the merchant in the front of the store, who looks at your selection. You peer at a pack of gum and place it on the counter.
“Rough night, Ma’am?”
You look down at your attire and notice that you’re still in an oversized graphic t-shirt and black sweatpants. Your sneakers look slightly beat up but match the sweatpants you were wearing.
“Something like that,” you mutter as you fish out some bills from your jacket pocket.
“It’s on the house then. Hope you have a better night.”
You wanted to kiss the teenager.
“Here, take it for yourself then,” you say as you put the crumpled 10,000-yen bill into her hands and curl them into a fist. You pat the fist a few times and smile at the teenager.
“I like your Bleach shirt,” she smiles sheepishly.
You grin, “Thanks. Sorry to be that stranger to come in here tonight.”
The green-haired teen shrugs, “At least you’re pretty.”
You thank her before opening the peach-flavored soju bottle and take a huge swig right before the teen. You drain a fourth of the clear bottle before you walk away with your gum and large water bottle in a plastic bag.
The liquid courage brands its burning mark inside your stomach as you grimace.
“I gotta find a better coping habit than drinking,” you mutter as you continue walking into Musutafu’s city center. The warm breeze of the summer night feels nice against your skin as the alcohol begins to do its magic. The stars in the sky begin to disappear with the light pollution of streetlamps and various lit storefronts.
You take another long swig of your soju bottle before you close it and put it inside your deep jacket pocket. You take out your large water bottle, crack it open, and take a heft gulp of the cold liquid. You let out a exhale as you close the cap and continue walking.
Walking down Musutafu streets at night had more bustling energy than the last time you walked by yourself during this time in the winter. People seem to happily giggle with their friends or partners as you narrowly avoid college kids and young adults. You look at the college students wistfully as they talk to their friend groups about a particular exam or hit a certain bar with their fake IDs.
The closer you got to the city center, the more groups of college students you saw with their button-up shirts and cargo pants.
“Damn, I’m really 28 now, huh?” You say out loud as you stop at look up at the dark purple void above.
Where did your youth go?
----
‘
“Oi! Don’t you think you’re forgetting something?”
You turned around to see Katsuki with a hand gripping the handle of the lunch bag in your favorite color. The pro hero is clad in a ‘Dynamight’ orange apron with a slight frown etched on his face. Behind the apron, he wore a black tank top that showed off his muscular arms and grey sweatpants that sat low on his hips.
You licked your lips as you eyed his powerful shoulders and those damn grey sweatpants, reminiscing on the previous night. Damn, should I even go to work right now?
“Hey, eyes up here.”
You snapped your eyes to see the haughty grin spread across his face.
You gave a sheepish smile, “Sorry, you know what grey sweatpants do to me.” You thank him before taking the lunch bag in your hands.
He huffed before his ruby eyes darted to the clock behind you. You had fifteen minutes left before catching the train to work. The train took about a thirty-minute commute, not including the ten-minute walk to the station. While driving would take about twenty minutes with regular traffic.
If he drove you, it would shave off twenty minutes from your commute.
Your husband eyed your outfit: a cream-colored pencil skirt that reached mid-shin, a grey turtleneck that hugged your form wonderfully, and black red-bottom heels. Your shiny hair was curled into soft beach waves reaching your waist.
You looked like a hot office worker, and he’s silently cursing you out because you gave him that look. The look that made his brain fritz out and think with his groin.
A haughty smirk spreads across his face as he cocks his head to the side, “So what are you going to do about that?”
You blink. Was your prudish husband actually entertaining this idea? Katsuki Bakugo, the one who is sexually fulfilled with cuddling most days because he’s too tired to do anything else is—
You drop your bags as he closes the distance between you. Your lips meld together, his tongue dancing with yours, your hands already untying the apron from around his waist. When you chucked it off to god-knows-where, you clumsily stepped out of your heels as he wrapped his arm around you. A strong arm pulled you up before you wrapped your legs around his waist, the linen-colored skirt hiking up your waist.
Hell, you’re going to take what you can get.
It was safe to say you called sick that day while getting your back blown out by your spikey-haired husband on your kitchen island.
---
Damn, that was the first time I called out in months. Good times.
You pull out your soju bottle, flick the cap off, and take a swig. You’re about halfway through the bottle now.
His parents still haven’t called me to tell me happy birthday. Is it because they’re in America? Is there something else happening? Are they mad at me?
Pretty soon, the colors around you become rosy and vivid. The full trees looked sharper, and the concrete squares looked like a game to you as you skipped over the lines’ to not break your mother’s back.’ A childish attempt to make yourself not feel old seemed to work for your intoxicated mind. You could feel the buzz of the alcohol right on your forehead.
You went to skip to the next block, but instead, you bumped into a hard mass. You wrinkled your nose at the stench of cigarettes and crayons.
You step back and realize that you have bumped into a tall woman who is next to a man. They were dressed in spandex. The large woman is decked in a one-piece costume and long boots while the ‘man’ transforms into a whip. You blink at the woman before she sneers at you.
“Hey, watch it, you little demon!”
“Huh?”
“Wait a minute… Oh, this is going to be good,” The woman’s shape shifts to a male-like figure. You stare owlishly as the woman is now a man with a thick beard in something akin to a sailor moon outfit. You shake your head, and you blink again while staggering back.
“What the hell is in this fucking soju?” you mutter lowly.
“Aren’t you the one Deku has been spotted with—”
You turn around and walk away from this person. You scrub your face with your hands while shaking your head.
Nope. Not again.
“Hey, I’m speaking to you! Come back here, you little—” You hear a gruff voice yell behind you.
That’s when you start running down the street for your life. So even though you were definitely more than tipsy and sucked at running, it didn’t stop you from suddenly sprinting like a seasoned athlete.
As your legs pump through the summer night air, you’re gulping down air as your clumsily turn corners and rush down sideways. Despite the sound of pounding inside your ears, you could hear the click of heels behind you.
“Hellllppppppp, I have some weirdo after me!” You wail as you turn the corner to a busy street.
A few people gasp as they see you dashing off, narrowly avoiding a large, outstretched arm swiping for you.
“Somebody call a hero!”
You see phones flash, and you can barely see the street ahead of you, but you don’t think to care.
“Are there any heroes around—AHHH!”
You hear a distinct fall and crash of something before a car alarm blares through the street as you run. You turn the corner before you continue sprinting, not even feeling the exertion of the exercise as adrenaline and alcohol are pumped through your body.
“Why the fuck did I even leave the damn house,” you pant as your eyes flit to see where they are in the corner of your eye.
BANG .
All the air in your lungs comes out in a small ‘oof’ noise before landing on your butt. You swear you see stars as the ground looks like it’s doing the worm. You rub a hand on your forehead and look up grimly. You ran right into a street lamp. “That fucking smarts,” you grumble as you continue rubbing your throbbing head.
“Come back hereeeee~ Mama wants to playy~ .”
Fear trickles down your spine at the villain’s boisterous voice. Shitshitshitshitshit
You hear a whip crack from a distance and scramble up before the leather can capture you. The villain is a few feet behind you as they reel back their whip, and you start changing your running direction to zig-zags to avoid getting captured.
—
“Should I start looking for her Kuro? Even though she told me to—”
“Yes, you dumb ass. It’s been more than thirty minutes.”
Izuku sighs as he turns on the TV to check the weather before he decides to look for you.
“Breaking news of a mysterious villain attack near Musutafu’s city center as a woman in her early 20s is fleeing from a shape-shifting villain wearing a … school uniform?”
The screen pans over you, running in the middle of oncoming traffic before throwing a half-empty bottle of soju with a 7-11 logo right at the villain’s face.
His glowing gaze is fixed on the TV for a few seconds to see that you’re unharmed. The muscles he didn’t even realize were tense sagged with a cooling relief.
Why did the newscaster say she was in her early twenties? Izuku briefly wonders.
As comical as the scene was, you defend yourself even if it’s a cheap bottle of alcohol from a 7-11. A small puff of pride inflates in his ribcage.
Atta girl.
Izuku peeks at the seated snow leopard. Kuro peers at the green-haired almost triumphantly. Jade eyes narrow at the almost grinning snow leopard.
“Don’t even say it.”
“Told you so.”
—
“Bitch, that burns!”
The villain rubs their eyes from the fruity alcohol but can’t seem to clear their vision fast enough to continue chasing you.
“That’s what you get for ruining my night, you piece of shit!”
Well, they didn’t exactly ruin your night. They just made it worse.
The jacket you had on is now long gone, while your phone is inside your sweatpants pocket. All of a sudden, the villain is encapsulated in blue ice all the way up to their neck.
Just like that, all your adrenaline vanishes into thin air. Your chest deflates as you turn to the person who stopped the villain from attacking you.
“You okay (Y/n)-san? I came as fast as I could from the other side of town from my patrol,” he reaches a hand, and you slap it away.
You don’t even thank him as you shoot a withering look at the 200 cm white, scarlet-haired number two pro-hero. The very same one that broke your best friend’s heart four years ago.
“Shut up. I didn’t ask for your help. I had it handled.”
Impassive cyan blue and stone-grey eyes look down at the broken bottle of soju before peering at your form.
“Oh, there you are! Shoto, great job stopping that villain!” You turn to see a familiar red-haired hero jogging toward you both.
Kirishima.
You press your lips into a thin line before you look at the blue jumpsuit-clad hero.
“I should call Etsu—”
“Don’t you dare .” You seethe.
You see the muscle on his jaw jump a few times before he grips the device a bit tighter.
“I’m actually surprised you still have her number after you broke up with her on the pretense of becoming a top hero. Remember?” You spit out venomously as you cross your arms across your chest. If looks could kill, the Todoroki would be fried and chopped on a serving platter by now.
Heterochromatic eyes flick at your face before his eyelids flutter close. The pro hero sighs, putting his phone inside his back pocket.
“Should we call Midoriya—”
“Kiri, you’re fine. I’m going to head home anyways,” you say, plastering a polite smile.
A warm arm wraps around your waist before your face scrunches, “I’ll take her home, Kirishima.”
You look down at the arm wrapped around your waist before you peer up at his generically attractive face and two-toned hair. You scowl even more. What did your best friend even see in this human incarnate of a wet blanket?
You begin to twist your body before trying to shove him away. He holds you tighter, and your drunk brain can finally processes smells. Todoroki smells like clean snow and teakwood.
It’s all wrong . A voice rattles inside your head.
“Get off me—”
You see a blur of electric green before you’re enveloped in sunshine, warm woods, and the scent that calls your nose like a beacon. Something distinct that you could only say reminds you of coming home.
Your body melts automatically in the embrace as your hands grip the fabric of a black t-shirt.
“Don’t fucking touch her.” Izuku all but growls in a tone you have only heard a few times this year. The words ooze as neon green eyes glare at the man in the blue jumpsuit. You look up through your lashes to see Izuku’s nostrils flared and paired with a clear scowl on his face.
Shoto’s usually stoic face breaks to a complete look of shock. He doesn’t even recall a time Izuku has even cursed, let alone at him.
Izuku’s expression softens a few degrees as he looks down at you, “You okay?”
You nod, “I wasted free soju.”
Izuku’s mouth twitches as he tries to hold in a chuckle. You didn’t even answer his question correctly.
Todoroki holds up his hands with wide eyes, “W-woah, Midoriya wait, I think you’re misunderstanding. I was just about—”
Izuku’s head snaps back to the ice and fire hero as he almost completely forgot he was there. Irritation drips its lethal venom into his blood.
“I. Don’t . Care. Don’t fucking touch her again.”
Kirishima’s jaw slacks as Izuku bares his gritted teeth at the other hero. Red eyes take in the ire in his eyes as his scarred hands are wrapped around your form. The green-haired hero looks like he might commit murder. Then, suddenly, the pieces click for the red-headed hero.
The leave of absence Izuku was taking from pro-heroing.
The divorce between him and Ochako.
When Izuku almost killed a villain a few months prior.
How Izuku acted in the hospital while you were injured.
The fights between Izuku and Katsuki about you spending time with either.
The fact that Katsuki almost didn’t invite Izuku to your wedding if it wasn’t for Kirishima convincing him.
The reason why you weren’t invited to Izuku’s wedding from a deal Katsuki made with Izuku but wouldn’t tell the redhead.
How Izuku avoided touching you or being too close to you since high school, and now suddenly, it’s fine…
Why Izuku seems to drop everything if you need him.
Now everything seems clear to the hardening quirk hero.
Kirishima sucked in a breath as his fist clenched. His nails are digging half-moons into the flesh of his palm.
“(Y/n) is…your soulmate. Isn’t she?” Kirishima says the words before stopping them, but he manages to say them almost cautiously, as if Izuku were a wild animal.
Your vision skews, and your hearing fizzles out for a few seconds. You couldn’t breathe. Did you hear that right? Bile rises in your throat. It was one thing of having a hunch and toying with the idea in your head, but now that it was said out loud, it’s nauseating.
Did that mean you just wasted years of your life with the wrong person? Did you prevent Katsuki from finding his?
The grip of his arms falters before you feel him nod slightly.
Your stomach gurgles as bile rises like a hot air balloon up your throat. You have to puke now .
You shove Izuku away from you with as much force as you can muster before you walk away and vomit all of your dinner onto the street. When you’re just about finished emptying the contents of your stomach on the gravel, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before staggering a few steps away. You hear a high-pitched ringing before your ears are suddenly stuffed with cotton.
I should have drank more water today.
“Woahwoahwoah—”
Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, and you can feel your body lean back as you pass out. Before you collapse to the floor, Izuku catches you swiftly with a sigh of relief.
“I take it you didn’t tell her, huh?” Kirishima scratches his cheek sheepishly as Izuku throws a glare his way.
“No shit Sherlock.” Shoto scoffs as he cards a hand through his hair.
“She took it better than Mina. If that helps?” Kirishima shrugs. “She almost spat acid at me.”
“I broke up with Etsuko when I found out through a blood test.”
“Dude, no wonder her best friend hates you.”