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vaatars · 1 year

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win stupid prizes (play stupid games pt 2)

summary: you start to heal. deku's moves to phase two.

cws for the series - manipulation, yan behavior, lying, gaslighting, very soft shouto, writer hasn't plotted an ending for this yet. cucking, rough sex, manipulative yandere izuku, no one is well behaved, blindfolds, degradation, praise, *hurt* comfort, sub drop, angst but there is comfort, light bondage, they’re all a little toxic but also are well intentioned, cum eating, voyeurism, threesome

WIN STUPID PRIZES - MINORS DNI

Two Weeks Later:

You’re sitting in your office, typing up some notes when there’s a knock at the door. Midoriya comes in, smiling apologetically. Patches of his costume are burned off and he’s got a big red scorch mark on his arm.

“Third burn this week,” Your eyes widen, “I suppose that’s what I expected when you said you needed a healer, but you should be more careful.” Midoriya shrugs as you take his hand, energy shooting from you up the appendage, pooling around the injury as it slowly starts to right itself.

“I’m alright,” he says quickly, “Honestly, I am. Just lots of work to do, number one hero and all.” You feel your face warm and look away. “What’s up?” You let out a shy giggle, soft music he’d heard before when Bakugou would lean over and say something in your ear, whenever Mina or Denki would tell an especially lewd joke.

“It’s so funny to think of you as Deku,” You admit, “When I remember who you were when we met, you know?” He nods. “You were so much smaller.”

“I know.” He says dryly, subtly flexing the arm muscles that were the product of many hours at the gym.

“You’re all overgrown now.” You mutter, brows knitting together as you focus on the wound, watching it close just a little faster as you concentrate.

“I ah, I wanted to check in on you.” He says, touching you with his uninjured arm. “You’ve been staying with Shouto.” You nod.

“I should really get my own place, it’s not that you don’t pay me enough to.” You inspect his arm carefully, looking for anything you missed. Midoriya nods, hoping his impatience isn’t betrayed in his expression. “It’s honestly been nice to live with someone.” You look up and smile at him, knocking the wind from his chest, “To not be alone, after, um, everything.” He nods again.

“Have you heard from Bakugou?” He asks, knowing the answer.

“No.” You say softly. “I think you were all right. He was um,” you press your lips together. “He was using me.” You rub your eyes, “He must have been. And um, I loved him. I feel pretty stupid.” Midoriya nods, and steps forward, folding you in his arms, the last indication of his injury fading away. You wrap your arms around his neck and he lifts you, just a little.

“You’re not alone,” he murmurs, “Not just because of Todoroki, but because of all of us, you’ve got me,” he grins, looking down at you, “And Iida, and Ochako, and Tsui.” You nod and impulsively hug him again, burying your face in his shoulder while he dies a thousand deaths of ecstasy at your closeness. “I don’t know what I might have done if I’d just gone to a hotel.” You say quietly, and your tone catches him off guard, there’s a raw, honest, and unstable current running just below the surface. He frowns, cupping your face in his gloved hands, searching your eyes.

“If you ever,” he says quietly, “Feel like doing something stupid I need you to promise to call me .” You look away, and his voice gets darker, and stronger, “Promise me.” He says sharply.

“I,” you find your voice, “I promise.” He hugs you again. “Sorry I’ve been such a mess.” you withdraw your hands from him, moving back to your desk. Deku considers for a split second, yes it was important that you felt indebted to him, but he needed to encourage that feeling without making it seem like you’d been working to take care of when the opposite is true. If you felt like a burden, you’d shut down.

“We’re heroes,” He says, a light smile painted on his face. “You know you’re not harder to support than like, a collapsing bridge.” You giggle and he glows in his victory, giving you a quick hug before departing. You flop back at your desk the second the door closes and check your notifications. Your phone remains devoid of notifications, for the last two weeks not only had it been radio silence from your ex but from your friends as well. Denki, Kirishima, Mina, Sero. None of them had reached out at all, and the thought that maybe they’d been using you too, that they’d seen you simply as someone to keep around for your quirk, rips a deeper hole in your chest. You take a shaky breath.

“Do you want to get a drink?” You ask. “I’ll um, I’ll text the others, and see if they want to meet us?” He nods.

“I can text them,” he offers, thinking he’ll be able to get away with having dinner with you alone, but you wave him off and he can’t think of a good enough excuse. When he leaves you to get a change of clothes, he pulls his phone out.

Midoriya: Todoroki you need to watch her

Todoroki: what’s up

Midoriya: she’s really unstable

Iida: well that’s a logical response to the instability in her life, correct?

Midoriya: no, I mean we destabilized her.

Midoriya: for her own good but we have to make sure we’re supporting her through the recovery so that we can rebuild her right.

At his desk, Todoroki recoils a bit, physically scooting away from his phone at his desk, and deciding to lean on an old crutch, pretending he simply didn’t notice the implication of another's words.

Todoroki: I will. I am.

Midoriya: when is she moving out?

Todoroki: I told her to stay as long as she wanted. And I meant it.

It’s true , Todoroki thinks, he did mean it, as he begins losing track of the conversation at the bar at the same time you do, making eye contact with you as he watches you introvert shrink into yourself. Iida and Ochako are arguing loudly while Midoriya laughs, and something seizes him, he reaches for your hand under the table. To his surprise, you take it, holding onto it tightly. He rubs a circle in your palm, unable to keep the soft smile from his lips, hiding it with a sip of his beer.

“Hey,” you lean over, your shoulder brushing his. “Can we go?” He blinks at you, then nods.

“We’re going to head home.” He says softly, standing, releasing your hand before anyone can see, but resting it on the small of your back when you stand. You say your goodbyes, and Todoroki pretends not to notice Midoriya’s icy-eyed smile. He drives you home, resting his hand on the console of his car, feeling like he’s stuck his hand into a burning bed of embers every second until you impulsively reach out and take it.

“I can’t tell you.” You say softly, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you, Todoroki Shouto.” He glances at you. “I thought um,” you swallow, “I thought after a day I’d have to move out because I was sure you’d only offered to um, to get laid.”

“An understandable concern given the– ah, context of your arrival.” He says, eyes flicking to his hand in yours before looking back at the road.

“But, you’ve been so respectful.” You squeeze his hand. “And you’ve been

kind, and patient, and you haven’t pushed me at all.”

“I,” he searches within himself, there had been moments, where he’d considered, where you’d been weak, where it would have been easy, but something stopped him every time. “It is meaningful to me that I could be there for you. I didn’t,” he chooses his words carefully, stopping mid-sentence. “When we were in school you were always intentional, you’d tell me where you were going to touch me before you’d do it so that I didn’t jump or panic. You’d bring me water because you realized before anyone else that my quirk dehydrates me.” He shrugs. “What happened was terrible, and frankly,” he frowns, “I should have said something to Midoriya about it being inappropriate. I do not forgive myself for allowing that to pass without comment.”

“He said you were sorry you couldn’t be there?” You cock your head at him, and Todoroki balks genuinely.

“I was certainly not invited.” He gives you a little smile. “But there’s no need to discuss it, I know you’d prefer not to.” You sigh, and lean against his arm. “Are you drunk?” He asks, and you give him the smallest smile, the first blip of genuine warmth he’s observed in two weeks.

“No.” You sigh. “No, I’m not.” You lace your fingers with his. “Were you um, were you gonna go right to bed when we got in?” He shakes his head.

“We can watch some tv?” He says, and you nod. Unlike the other times you’ve sat together, this time you nestle against him, taking the throw blanket from the back of the couch and curling up against his icy half. “You know that’s the bad side,” he says, half teasing.

“You don’t have a bad side.” you yawn, taking his arm. He leans over, heart hammering, and presses his lips to the top of your head.

“You don’t have to do this.” He says quietly. “Sex with me isn’t, it’s not emotional rent for staying here.”

“Who’s having sex with you?” You yawn again, nuzzling him. “I just wanted to sit like this.” He laughs lightly.

“As long as you know you can stay here even if you don’t want anything to do with me.” It had been agony, but he hadn’t touched you, not since that first night he put you to bed, woken twice by the sound of your bitter crying, the dull ache in his chest getting stronger. “But I, you can keep touching me. If you’d like.” You nod eyes fluttering shut as he turns the tv on. “You’d tell me,” he says softly, “If you weren’t doing well and needed help?” You half open one eye.

“Ah,” You pull a little away from him, but he can’t bring himself to regret the question. “I’m doing um, I’m doing quite poorly. If I’m being honest.” He nods.

“You said something to Midoriya today that made him nervous,” an emotion flits across your face, so fast that he only catches its shadow. “Is there something wrong?” You shrug.

“I can’t quite put my finger on what it is,” you give him a weak smile, ‘When I figure it out, I’ll tell you?” He nods.

“Of course.” He eyes you, refusing to let you off the hook.

“Therapy would be a good idea, probably.” You say eventually, scooting closer to him. “Would you get lunch with me after, in case it sucks and I want to talk about Parks and Rec, and not exist?” He slips an arm around your waist.

“Of course.” He gives you a squeeze. “And there’s no pressure, not to sit next to me like this, not to stay here if you don’t want to. I just want to see you happy again.” You hide your face in his arm.

“I like it here.” You don’t clarify whether here is his apartment, or here is next to him. He doesn’t ask. That night you sleep in your own rooms and dream of each other.

____

Across the city, Midoriya is playing it as cool as he possibly can, staring at his phone on the kitchen counter, waiting for it to light up.

Midoriya: hey!

He’d texted Denki more than an hour ago, and he’d logged onto the backend of the hero patrol services to make sure he wasn’t working. He also knows how often the blonde checked his phone, sure his text was being ignored. He pours himself a glass of whiskey, dropping in a few ice cubes, listening to the way they clink softly against the crystal cup. It’s another ten minutes of listening intently to the hum of his air conditioner before his phone vibrates.

Denki: what’s up

Midoriya drums his fingers on the counter, weighing the merit of passive-aggressively waiting at least 10 minutes to respond, and deciding against it.

Midoriya: Bakugou hasn’t been answering our texts 😅

Midoriya: y/n’s been a really good sport about not getting her stuff back from their apartment, but I know she’s doing laundry every few days because she didn’t have many changes of clothes at the office.

There’s another pause, in another building across the city, Kirishima watches Denki frowning at his phone.

“Work?” Kirishima asks, shutting his laptop and coming to sit on the couch next to Denki, who looks troubled.

“No.” He looks down at his hands. “I feel kinda bad. About chasing after Bakugou like that, and leaving her there.” He doesn’t have to elaborate, doesn’t have to say your name. Kirishima lets out a long breath in agreement. “I really thought we could get him to go back for her.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I mean, it’s not like he’s gonna pull anything better than her.”

“Oh hell no,” Kirishima shrugs, “She was so patient with him, I mean, she was with all of us.” He turns to his friend. “It used to be so cute though, watching the way she’d hang on his every word, and get nervous whenever she was supposed to be healing him.”

“You think he really liked her?” Denki blurts, the question had been bouncing around in his brain since that night. “Because I did, I thought he really liked her. As much as Bakugou is capable of liking anyone, really.”

“I think,” Kirishima chooses his words carefully, “Bakugou cared for her, in the way that kids have a teddy bear, right?” Denki’s brow furrows, and Kirishima continues, “Or like, a security blanket. After a hard fight, he wanted to hold her, to see her, to touch her, it would bring him comfort. And he looked forward to finding that comfort in her, and she looked forward to opportunities to provide it.”

“That’s not the same as really liking someone,” Denki struggles, “As being in love with someone.” Kirishima nods.

“Yeah. I know that. And you know that. But Bakugou doesn’t.” He says, and Denki glances at his phone, Kirishima sees the text. “Fuck, Midoriya’s reaching out to you?” Denki nods.

“Yeah, I think she wants her stuff back.”

“Very fair.” Kirishima says, standing. “Very fair.” He pauses, “I can’t believe he did that.” He says quietly.

“Yeah, fuck Deku,” Denki rolls his eyes and Kirishima shakes his head.

“No, I meant, ah,” he lowers his voice. “I can’t believe Bakugou let anyone else touch her.” Denki shrugs.

“You can’t?” He puts his passcode back into his phone. “Bakugou’s always cared about his ego more than anyone else’s feelings, that’s sort of his whole deal.” Kirishima’s mind flies back to school, the way Bakugou would tug you needily into his lap, grumbling about whatever you were wearing, the way he’d drape his jacket over your shoulders during training, even if you were already wearing yours, because he thought if he was cold you must be freezing.

“I dunno.” Kirishima shrugs. “I dunno. Whatcha gonna say to Midoriya?” Denki frowns.

“Guess I gotta talk to him about it.”

Denki: yeah sorry about that

Denki: you know how he gets when he’s angry, he just shuts down.

Midoriya: ah yeah. I called him a couple of times to check in but he hasn’t picked up.

Denki: figures haha

Denki: lemme talk to him, I think he’s working late tonight.

“Bakugou’s worked late every night.” Kirishima says, having watched the conversation over his friend’s shoulder. “Since.”

“Yeah.” Denki stretches, standing. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.”

He pads down the hallway, pausing in front of the office door. The agency had been moderately successful, breaking some local records and the office was a reflection of that, glass doors, fancy espresso machines, and doors that lock. He knocks.

“Come in.” He hears, and Bakugou is pouring over paperwork, a few broken pencils in the garbage. “What?” He snaps, gesturing to the amount of work on his desk. “I’m busy.” Denki looks sheepish.

“Yeah, I know, Midoriya texted about your ex’s stuff.” If Bakugou is troubled by this, it doesn’t show on his face.

“Yeah. I know.”

“He texted me.” Denki clarifies.

“She can come pick it up whenever.” Bakugou says, going back to work. “She’s still got a key.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think she wants to see you,” Denki says, and that makes Bakugou put his pen down, and rub his eyes.

“Right.” He says. “Right and I said I’d drop it off, and then I didn’t.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “S’fucken quiet. Living alone.” Denki nods. “Better though, it’s better.” He stands.

“Better than…” Denki trails off, asking Bakugou to finish the sentence. He doesn’t.

“Fuck off. I’ll call Deku.” He says, waving the other pro hero away. Denki starts to go and then pauses at the doorway.

“Did you uh, did you try calling her?”

“I said fuck off.” Bakugou snarls, and Denki squeaks, disappearing down the hallway, letting the door close behind him. He sighs, unlocking his phone and scrolling through the number, eyes pricking with tears at the single heart he’d placed next to your contact when you’d started dating, remembering how he’d appeared in your phone, katsuki <3, his first name, all lowercase. If he closes his eyes he can conjure you, can hear the soft sigh of his first name when he’d get home, can feel your hand on his shoulder, smell your perfume, rain-soaked florals fresh in his memory. He shoves it down, and opens Midoriya’s string of unanswered texts, not bothering to read them.

Bakugou: where’s she staying?

Midoriya: Kacchan! How are you?

Bakugou: you didn’t have to sic denki on me.

Midoriya: aaah you know I did

Midoriya: she’s staying with Todoroki but I think she’s gonna get her own place soon.

Bakugou: why is she staying with Todoroki?

Midoriya: honestly no idea.

In his kitchen, Midoriya grins, taking a long sip of his drink before continuing.

Midoriya: I don’t think they’re like, seeing each other.

Midoriya: I was surprised, but I think he had a thing for her when we were in school IDK if you ever noticed the way he’d look at her.

Bakugou: how could I not fucking notice?

Bakugou: not that any of you were any fucking better jesus christ.

Midoriya: yeah I mean I almost didn’t want to tell you, because I didn’t want you getting upset.

Bakugou: do I sound upset to you.

Midoriya: no no of course not.

Midoriya: and I’m sure Todoroki would never take advantage of her vulnerability right now just to sleep with her.

Midoriya: he was always so honorable and old-fashioned.

Bakugou: yeah.

Bakugou: I’ll just reach out to him.

Midoriya: BTW she’s really struggling rn. So maybe it would be best if you kept your distance. I’m a little worried.

Bakugou: worried?

Midoriya: yeah we’re keeping an eye on her!!! But just wanted to warn you to stay away, I wasn’t sure you’d reached out.

Bakugou: I’m the one who broke up with her.

Midoriya: of course!! Of course.

Bakugou: I’ll text the bastard about her stuff.

Midoriya: I can help coordinate if needed.

Bakugou whips his phone across the room, and it shatters against the wall, the screen blinking. In his kitchen, Midoriya waits for a response for a few minutes before pouring another drink and making a decision.

_______

“A field assignment?” You cock your head at the number one hero. It’s the next morning, and you’d been summoned to a conference room. “You know my quirk doesn't have any combat use cases.” Midoriya nods, he’s sitting across the table from you with a few other pro heroes, Iida is leaning against the opposite wall, observing. Todoroki was out on patrol, but several interns flock Midoriya, sitting solemnly on either side of him.

“The terrain is particularly dangerous.” He says, apology evident in his voice. “Of course, that’s why we’ll keep the team small. Just you and me.” You shiver.

“I, should,” you chew your lip, “I’m a touch behind on combat training, I haven’t had to brave a sports festival in a while.” Iida clears his throat.

“We’re all happy to help you brush up on your skills. We’ve got a dangerous new faction gathering up in the Hyogo province and Deku’s leading the investigation.” You nod, opening the file, and flipping through some images.

“Oh wow,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “I’ll need a warmer coat.”

_____

Across the city, Todoroki stretches, checking his phone as he finishes his patrol.

Bakugou: sorry for being an asshole. Gotta drop her stuff off at your place, is there a good time, where I won’t scare the shit outta her?

Todoroki pauses, squinting in the bright sunlight to ensure he’d read the message correctly, it was so unlike Bakugou to open with an apology.

Todoroki: it’s fine.

Todoroki thinks for a second, about how much he can divulge, how much of the terse conference room meeting he’d had with Deku, Iida, Uraraka, and Froppy he wanted to share with his former classmate. He decides to keep it to himself, removing all emotion from the information.

Todoroki: she’ll be leaving for a field assignment in a few days, so before then would be best if possible.

In his office, Bakugou chokes on his coffee.

Bakugou: no way she asked for that.

Todoroki: of course she didn’t.

Todoroki: Midoriya insisted.

He stops himself, almost wishing he could recall the text to his phone, it’s so steeped in obvious bitterness that he feels embarrassed. He makes an attempt to backtrack.

Todoroki: She’s tougher than she looks. You know this.

Bakugou: yeah.

Bakugou: she okay?

Todoroki toys with the idea of lying but decides against it.

Todoroki: no.

Todoroki: but she’s healing.

Bakugou: fuck.

Bakugou: okay.

Bakugou: what about 4PM tomorrow, can you have her out of the apartment around then?

Todoroki: sure.

Bakugou: and the assignment, it’s dangerous?

Todoroki: Can I call you?

Bakugou gets up and locks his door before sitting down at his desk and responding.

Bakugou: fine.

He picks up on the first ring, and Todoroki is already off like a shot.

“Not for nothing,” He says, anger evident in his tone, “You have a lot of fucking nerve being concerned about her safety and happiness.” The words hit Bakugou like a freight train, not a single one of his friends had had the wherewithal to genuinely scold him, he can’t gather words in time for a response before Todoroki barrels forward. “You bet her. You bet your girlfriend, and you could have let it go. For the sake of your goddamn ego, you could have spared her the awkwardness of what I have to imagine, was a borderline traumatic sexual encounter, and this breakup. Instead, you decided to let it go forward, to let this escalate, and then perhaps, arguably, when she needed you most, you did something even I, with so little respect for you, would never ever expect. You turned tail and ran . So you don’t get to ask me how she is and expect a real answer, you don’t get to worry about her on this assignment, and you’ll drop off her things tomorrow without notes, sentiment, or further contact. Understand?” His voice is sharp, dark, and mean, he’s surprised by how easy it is to access this anger on your behalf. A deep, aching sob echoes on the other end of the phone.

“I know,” Bakugou chokes out, “I know, okay, I,” he rubs his eyes, “I get it. I’m not gonna stop fuckin’ worryin’ about her just because I ain’t got no business doin’ that goddamn crap, I,” he swears under his breath, “I spent all of college, wishin’ I could do shit like that for her. Every time she took a hit in some stupid exam designed for hero students I fuckin’ felt it, even before we were, y’know, together.” Todoroki leans against the outside of an empty warehouse, this part of the city was always so empty. “You’re not,” Bakugou had planned to be subtle, to be sneaky, to pull this information delicately but finds at the moment he only has access to the bluntest of objects. “You’re not sleeping with her?”

“No.” Todoroki says, and he fucking means it. “She’s a big girl, Bakugou,” he says, softening a degree. “She’s a healer at a pro hero agency, which means she does field assignments. She’ll keep up.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou wipes his face. “I didn’t think this would be so fucking hard.” Todoroki sighs into the phone, a rush of static.

“You know she started therapy yesterday.” Bakugou doesn’t respond to him. “Maybe it would be a good idea for you too.”

“Yeah.” Bakugou leans back in his chair. “Maybe.”

_______

Todoroki whisks you away from the office for lunch, picking a small booth at the back of a french style cafe where he can hide from potential fans and paparazzi. You’re picking at your tartine, and ignoring the little tub of pickles that came with your food.

“Do you want mine?” He says, gesturing to his own pickles, hoping to subtly draw attention to the fact that he’s noticed you’re not eating without him having to say it.

“No.” You look distracted. “I’m sorry. I think today’s just a hard day.” He reaches out and places a hand on top of yours, and you do the last thing he expects. He watches you fight a shy smile. “It’s really nice to have you around, Todoroki.” You say softly, before reaching over and taking a pickle off his plate, and eating it.

“I like having you around too,” he gives your hand a squeeze. “And I know, firsthand how hard therapy can be, and I wanted to say that I’m excellent at setting boundaries, so if you ever want to talk things through with me you don’t need to worry about being a burden, I, I’ll let you know if something’s too much.” You nod.

“I appreciate that but um, I kinda wanna hear how your day was.” You lace your fingers with his. “If that’s okay.” He nods, thinking of his brief phone call with Bakugou, deciding not to mention it. Instead, he tells you about the little villain skirmish he’d interrupted, two warring factions that had been mid argument when he’d strode into the alley, and he gets the pleasure of hearing you laugh, wishing there was way he could tattoo that sound on his body.

“If I were a villain,” you giggle, “I don’t think I’d have it in me to try.” You shrug. “Not against you anyway.” He smirks.

“Well, plenty of them run when they see me coming.” He says, and you pick up your bread and start to eat.

_____

You unpack the unlabeled boxes Bakugou left in Shouto’s living room in complete silence, officially unofficially moving into the pro hero’s guest room. He flits in and out of your space, unsure of what to do with his hands, let alone what to say. Eventually, when he builds the courage, he clears his throat, drawing your attention. He doesn’t speak, just stepping in front of you and taking both of your hands, rubbing circles into your palms as he presses his lips to your forehead. You let the t-shirt Bakugou had so often threatened to rip off of you slip from your hands to the floor, and lean into his chest, sighing deeply.

_____

Another few days pass, and despite your near constant vigilance, you don’t hear from any of your friends. You prepare for the field mission, packing a warm but light bag, and working late hours with Midoriya as you plot your trek across the mountains.

“Is Todoroki waiting for you?” Midoriya says, bent over the conference room table next to you, scanning an old trail map.

“No,” You shrug, “I told him to go home.” It’s dark outside, well after 9 PM, and you feel exhausted. “Do you think we’ll be finished soon?” You ask, and Midoriya looks troubled.

“I don’t think so.” He says, flopping in a chair. “Sorry that this is taking you away from Todoroki so much.” You laugh.

“I just wanna sleep, it doesn’t have anything to do with my roommate.” Midoriya nods. He could do this, he can play this calm, collected.

“Roommates, huh?” He says, raising his eyebrows a single degree.

“Yes,” You reply primly, a shy smile on your lips. “Roommates, Midoriya.” You turn back to the map but he’s not finished, he’s waited this long, waited longer than any sane person would, really, when you’re so fucking weak, and he’s so strong. He zones out for a minute, remembering the taste of your lips, imagining the way you’d squirm underneath him, you’d fight, maybe but would he even feel it, would it even matter? “I,” you speak, pulling him out of the sinful daydream. “I have to thank you, honestly Midoriya.” He blinks at you, and you scoot a little closer to him in the rolling chair. “I’ve been um, I’ve been in therapy, actually, since Bakugou and I broke up.” He nods, acting like this is brand new information. “And I’ve had the perspective to realize how isolated I was when I was dating him, and how you took such good care of me that night. I am grateful to you for ensuring I wasn’t completely alone after that.” It takes all of his willpower not to take your hand, it’s just sitting there on the table tantalizing him. He leans away from you instead, and fuck, yes , he has to stop himself from hissing his victory out loud as you lean further into his personal space, evidently feeling the physical rejection of the space he’d taken.

“Well, you know how I feel about you.” He says, and the combination of the verbal affirmation and his physical indications of rejection for the sentiment seems to confuse you. You stammer, a good sign, an indication that your mind isn’t moving faster than your lips, that you’re saying what you’re thinking.

“D-do I?” You ask, and perhaps, if this were a different movie, a more fair one, a less cruel word, that would be enough. He’d reach out, cup your face, and kiss you softly, the good guy gets the girl. However, instead, he offers you a warm, boyish smile before closing the distance in between you.

“You believed in me when no one else did.” He says quietly. “I’ll owe you for the rest of my life.” You soften at the sadness he projects, of course, you , healer, go to give him comfort. You cup his upper arm, rubbing it softly.

“You were always going to be a great hero, Midoriya.” You shrug. “I just put you back together a few times.” He lets the moment sit for a beat, and then rescues you, brings you back to levity with a joke.

“A few hundred times.” He says, and you giggle, thankfully, and return to your map.

_____

Todoroki was a problem , Midoriya thinks, after dropping you off at his apartment building later that night, but not an unsolvable problem. He doesn’t even wait until the driver has pulled away from the high rise before taking his phone out.

Midoriya: hey!

He waits. The response time is shorter than he expects, honestly thinking this might be another Bakugou situation where he has to access some back channels. But she responds in just a few minutes.

Momo: Hello

_____

You return to the apartment to find Shouto sprawled on the couch, the TV on. One of his arms hangs over the edge, and before you can stop yourself, you touch his shoulder and wake him. He opens one eye, and in his half-awake state, he sighs deeply and beckons you to join him. You give in, laying half on top of him, letting him tuck your face into his neck. He wraps his arms around you, sighing deeply, delighting in your closeness.

“Are you worried?” He whispers. “Anxious?” You consider.

“I trust Midoriya.” You snuggle into Todoroki, who manages to hide his deeply troubled expression. “I gave him a hard time, probably because of how things went down that night, but he really has been kind to me since. I mean,” you sit up a little, “I’m a healer. Sometimes healers do field assignments.” Todoroki hums. It’s true , he could out Midoriya. He had texts, emails, and receipts. However, he thinks, as he gives you a squeeze, this, right now, was so fucking nice. And how angry would you be? He wonders, when you found out he’d known, and didn’t stop it, didn’t rescue you.

It’s true , he hadn’t fully bought into the idea when Midoriya had explained it, but the fervor burning in Midoriya’s eyes had meant he wasn’t likely to be dissuaded, and there was, there was that one memory, one that he’d banished to the humiliating fringes of his mind, one that weighs on him.

“Bakuogu, ow,” you said, “Ow, ow, you’re hurting me.” Todoroki stops in his tracks, muscles tensing before he turns the corner. It was late, far after midnight in the dorms.

“Quit whinin’,” Bakugou had snarled, “Sick of seein’ the way other guys look at you, I’m fuckin’ sick of it.” Todoroki hears your sharp gasp and peers around the corner, watching you trying to squirm out of the blonde’s iron grip,

“You’re holding me too tight,” the pain pinches your voice, “Please, please I-”

“Fuck,” Bakugou spits out the word, he’s drunk, Todoroki can hear it now, the slight slur of his voice as he shoves you hard, and you stumble and nearly fall. Todoroki steps out, meaning to catch you, but by some miracle of athleticism, Bakugou gets there first, not quite letting you hit the ground, manhandling you back into a standing position. “Sorry, sorry baby,” he mutters ,burying his face in your neck, “Sorry, I don’t, you know I never mean to hurt ya.”

“I know you don’t.” You whisper, and he holds you tightly as Todoroki ducks back around the corner.

“Good, baby.” He mumbles. “Good.”

He’d never asked you in school though the words had sat on the tip of his tongue for months, whenever you’d be healing him, whenever you’d had a quiet moment, “I never mean to hurt you”, Bakugou had said. Did this happen often, did you call yourself clumsy to hide the bruises, or did you earnestly trip as often as it seemed?

In present day, he clears his throat, kissing the top of your head. The past didn’t matter. He couldn’t change the past. He could care for you now, he owed you more than that. He couldn’t let you go off with Midoriya alone, not like this, not without saying something. Reluctantly, he lifts his head and holds your gaze.

“When you’re working late,” he says, choosing his words carefully, “If you would prefer, if you would prefer not to be alone in the agency with Midoriya, it’s really no problem for me to wait up for you.” He watches you think about your response.

“I had a couple moments where I was uncomfortable but I think that’s just because of what happened.” You give Todoroki a soft smile. “He’s had plenty of chances to make a move on me and he hasn’t.” You shrug. “Getting jealous on me?” He manages a smile.

“What’s there to be jealous of,” he teases, and you giggle, looking away, realizing you’re straddling the pro hero’s hips.

“One of these days I’m gonna kiss you just to shut you up.” You chirp, and he grins.

“Is that right?”

_______

Momo: Hello

Midoriya breathes a sigh of relief.

Midoriya: Hey Momo! How are you?

Momo: Alright, sorry for not keeping better in touch.

Midoriya: it’s all good, you show face in the 1-A Groupchat more than me these days.

Momo: well, number one hero. To what do I owe the text?

Midoriya: would you believe me if i said I just wanted to catch up?

Momo: ah honestly no.

Momo: so what do you need?

Midoriya: cool I mean that’s probably fair

Momo: probably?

Momo: are you kidding me?

Midoriya: you said you could handle something casual.

Momo: Casual isn’t staying over. Casual isnt letting me wear your sweatshirt in public. Casual isn’t holding each other when you have nightmares.

Midoriya: I know.

Momo: good. So what? What do you want?

Midoriya: you have to know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t desperate.

Momo: thanks for saying that.

Midoriya: jesus christ I’m sorry. I’m in love with someone else. I never lied to you about that.

Momo: what do you want?

Midoriya sighs deeply, sliding a little bit in his seat in the car.

Midoriya: it’s about Todoroki.

Momo: what about Shouto?

Midoriya chuckles privately to himself, ahhh dropping his first name to try and make him jealous. Adorable. Momo had always like to kid herself, that she could play the game at his level, an it had been easy to imagine you in her place when she was writhing underneath him.

Midoriya: he got wasted last weekend and told me he’s still in love with you.

Midoriya: and I fucked up so badly with you, I thought I owed you that information. I want him to be happy. I want you both to be happy.

Momo: still in love with me?

Midoriya: if you tell him I’ll deny it. He doesn’t remember.

Momo: so what, I’m supposed to text him?

Midoriya: if I give you advice am I gonna get the verbal equivalent of a drink thrown at me?

Momo: no you’d get the text version of a drink thrown at you.

Midoriya: ok shutting up and leaving you alone.

Momo: no no.

Momo: advice. Please.

Midoriya: you should surprise him!!!

Midoriya: you know what a romantic he is deep down.

Momo: hm.

Momo: if this is a trap or a prank know that I will kill you.

Midoriya: you seem very serious.

Momo: I am. Those muscles of yours won’t protect you from poison.

Midoriya: ahaha not a trap.

Midoriya: He’ll be happy to see you. I promise.

Momo: okay.

Momo: thank you, Midoriya.

Midoriya: I mean when I say I want to see you happy. And I meant it when I said I was sorry. I never meant to hurt you, or to lead you on.

Momo: noted.

______

The next day, you run out of the hero building to pick up some pantry staples. You push through crowds to a local grocery store, rocking onto your tiptoes when someone makes an apologetic noise behind you.

“Let me,” and the tone is warm, familiar. Kirishima Eijirou takes the bottle of Sriracha from the top shelf and hands it to you. You press your lips together, surprised with how overcome with emotion you are. There’s an awkward silence, where your eyes water, and you take a step forward.

“You know,” you say, voice shaking with anger, “After touching me like that, the least you could have done was call to check in.” You shove the hot sauce at him and turn around, storming out of the store while he calls your name.

You practically run back to the agency, poorly concealing your tears as you get into the elevator. The doors close, and he’s there, he’s been waiting since he saw you leave.

“Oh my god,” Midoriya blurts. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you blurt, lying terribly as the tears in your eyes spill over. He hugs you quickly, holding you tightly.

“What happened?” He lets go of you, rubbing your upper arms.

“I ran into Kirishima,” you sniffle, and his blood turns to ice in his veins, so much depended on keeping you isolated, Todoroki was bad enough, he couldn’t deal with- “And it was just so awkward,” you sigh, and feeling returns to his fingertips.

“C’mere,” he wraps you back in his arms. “I’m sorry they left you like that, you deserved better.”

“I did.” You sniff, inhaling deeply as the elevator doors ding open to your floor. “Thanks, Midoriya,” you go to step off and he catches your wrist, stepping out with you.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” He asks, and you shrug.

“I mean,” you fidget, he steps off the elevator to continue your conversion, not releasing your wrist. “It’s weird, right, that no one’s reached out to me?” Midoriya winces and gestures for you to sit down at the desk. You do, flopping in your rolling chair. He sits on a little stool, right next to you, just close enough for it to be casual.

“We haven’t talked about it.” He says quietly, resting his forearms on his knees. “But I would imagine they’re embarrassed.” You blink at him. “I mean clearly they were just as taken with you as Bakugou always was,” he shrugs, “To touch you like that. I would bet that they don’t know what to say to you, or even if you’d want them to reach out.” Your lips twitch.

“You’re right.” You sigh. “We haven’t talked about it.” There’s a pause. “Should we, talk about it?” He laughs, and the perfectly timed expression of nervousness and levity brings a little warmth back to your face.

“Is there something you’d like to say?” His smile crumbles a little bit into a smirk. “I know you said you were thankful for me taking care of you, but I assumed you meant after-”

“Midoriya!” You squeak, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my god.” He laughs again, touching your upper arm, unable to stop himself. “No, no, I mean, I don’t think even if I wanted to I could pretend that you weren’t, ah,” you stop to choose the right word, it’s fucking adorable how earnestly you communicate, always looking for the way to most honestly communicate exactly what you’re feeling. “Skilled.” You settle on. He nods knowingly.

“Well, I hope Todoroki measures up.”

“Midoriya!” You repeat again, standing. “Todoroki and I are roommates. We’re not seeing each other. I probably shouldn’t romantically involve myself with anyone for a while, at least until I stop throwing temper tantrums in the sauce aisle.”

“Let me put it like this,” he says, “If you’d ever like to discuss it. Any part of it.” You swallow. “I am here.” You nod. “And if you ever get lonely, with your roommate,” he smiles at you, “I’m very capable of something casual.”

“Really?” You say dryly, “You’re hitting on me.”

“Absolutely not,” He grins, standing, “Think of it like, offering assistance,” he glances at your hands, folded in your lap, “I mean, can you even really reach anywhere important with those tiny little-” You burst into a peal of giggles.

“Get out before I call the papers.” You sniff with mock petulance, “Pro Hero Midoriya discriminates against people with smaller hands than him. Twitter will cancel you like that .” You snap your fingers and he laughs.

“It’s nice.” He says, after a beat. “To hear you laugh again.”

______

The night before you leave for your field assignment, you and Todoroki are snuggled on the couch. You’re pressed up against him, half in his lap, his long fingers tangled in your hair.

“My willpower truly knows no bounds,” He groans, adjusting you a little to accommodate the erection throbbing in his sweatpants. You giggle. “In all seriousness,” he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, “It means so much to me that you trust me.” You sigh softly.

“What if I kissed you?”

“Hmmm,” he says, holding you tightly. “I think you need a friend, right now. More than you need a paramour.”

“What if I want to kiss you?” You quip, and he pulls away a little, studying you. “We could,” and you hear Midoriya’s voice in your ear as you re-use his words. “We could keep it casual.” He doesn’t have to think about it.

“I couldn’t.” He shrugs. “Not with you.” Your eyes widen, your lips part slightly. “Relax,” he murmurs, squeezing you, “I’m not going to push you, there will be no dramatic confession. But I couldn’t sleep with you and pretend it was meaningless.”

“T-todoroki,” you manage, and he can’t help it, can’t help playing with you a little, not when you’re so fucking sweet laid out before him.

“Hm?” He says, moving so that he’s leaning over you, watching your pupils blow wide. “What’s wrong?” He mutters. “You scared, darling, are you afraid?” You nod, and he leans forward, kissing your forehead. “When you come back,” he says quietly, “We can talk about it. How does that sound?” You sigh, and nod. “That’s a good girl. Let’s get some rest.”

______

He wakes before you and makes a poor attempt at breakfast, backed by genuine effort. The eggs are underseasoned, but you eat them together, in silence at 6AM.

“Here.” He says, sliding the bottle of hot sauce across the table. “I know Bakugou was a better cook than me.” You laugh, eyes still cloudy with sleep.

“I think I like cuddling with you more,” you reward him with a dazzling smile, “If it helps.” He swallows, only barely able to keep the way your words send him reeling from his face.

“You be careful,” he says, standing and refilling your water glass without you asking, “Or I’ll tell you to stay here.” That makes you actually laugh.

“Believe me if there was a way for you to get me out of spending a full week in the freezing cold I’d be begging for it.” You swallow some eggs. “Midoriya said he was going to try and download the next season of Bojack Horsemen or something, but I dunno how long his phone is gonna hold a charge.” You rub your eyes. “I’ll miss you, it’ll be weird not to see you every day.”

“I’ll be thinking of you.” Todoroki says softly, and there’s something so genuine about his tone, it makes you squirm in your chair. “I am, however, planning you a welcome home surprise.” You raise your eyebrows. “No further questions.”

______

He drops you at Midoriya’s office at 7:30, kissing the top of your head where he knows Midoriya can see, and giving you a little squeeze.

“I’ll pick you up when you’re done.” He says. “Please, be careful. Stay in touch if you can.” The door to Midoriya’s office opens, and the number one pro hero gives you both a grin. He’s fully bundled, somehow even more hulking in a huge black puffy coat. He gives you a warm hug, lifting you off your feet, ignoring Todoroki.

“You look ready to go!” he says, patting your shoulder, “Need anything from the office?” You shake your head, your backpack is at your side. He picks it up.

“Please be careful,” Todoroki says, and Midoriya gives him a cursory nod.

“Of course!” he says. “This is a scouting mission, frankly we’d send someone else but not one can move faster than me on this terrain.” Todoroki nods.

“Of course. Check in, if you can.” He reaches out and touches his friends upper arm, and Midoriya softens, remembering that before they were rivals, they were friends.

“I will.” He promises. “Actually,” he turns to you, “One sec, Todoroki, if you have a minute?” Shouto nods, and steps inside Midoriya’s office. Deku steps behind him, closes the door and leans against his desk, just as the first golden light of sunrise peeks over the horizon. In an office of mostly glass, the light is golden and blinding. “Are we okay?” He asks, and Todoroki puts his hands in his pockets.

“I should have stopped you.” He says quietly.

“From?” Midoriya chirps.

“From all of it.” Todoroki sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “From, from playing with people like they’re your action figures, from-”

“I think Bakugou was violent with her.” Midoriya blurts, “Alright, I, she won’t say anything, and she won’t admit it but, I think she was scared of him,” he takes a step forward, “And she wasn’t gonna leave him.”

“We don’t know,” Todoroki hisses, that memory tugging at him, “We don’t know that, Bakugou’s a hero, and he’s our friend.” He shakes his head. “I’ve actually never heard you call him Bakugou before.” Midoriya presses his lips together.

“We did what we needed to do to protect her.” He says, taking a step forward. “She needed rescuing, so I rescued her.”

“Is that what you think happened?” Todoroki says coolly. “Because from where I’m standing, you bribed Shindou, fucked her, and ruined her relationship in the most dramatic way possible.”

“She wouldn’t have left him,” Midoriya says, his eyes darkening. “And if you were so opposed to it you should have said something, should have even tried to talk me out of it, but you didn’t? Did you?” He cocks his head a little, sensing his friend's discomfort. “Is that the problem here, that you look at me and know that we’re no different? You both tacitly and explicitly endorsed my actions, on multiple occasions, because you knew you’d never have a chance with her any other way.” He lowers his voice. “And the issue isn’t that you have a moral issue with anything I’ve done, is it?” Todoroki looks away, and then finds himself blinded by the brightness of the rising sun, he blinks a few times to clear his vision. “No, no you don’t like that you’ve been outplayed.” Midoriya muses, rubbing his chin. “Poor Todoroki Shouto, unused to losing.”

“That’s not true-” Todoroki starts, but Midoriya doesn’t let him.

“It’s not true that you don’t like losing? Or it’s not true that you’ve been outplayed because,” he glances at the window on his office door, right on cue, there’s a tall, statuesque silhouette in the doorway. He hears your voice.

“Yaoyorozu!” You say, voice a little muffled through the door, “It’s so nice to see you.” Todoroki freezes.

“Have you seen Shouto?” He hears her say. “I think, I think I need to talk to him about something important.”

“I think we’re going to have a lovely trip up into the mountains,” Midoriya says, cheerfully picking up some papers on his desk. “It’s gonna be so cold though,” He smiles, and a shiver runs up Todoroki’s spine, “I’ll keep her warm.”

“Fuck you.” Todoroki spits, and just as he hears you speak, worry evident in your voice.

“Oh! Cool, he’s actually in there right now.” You say and then Momo knocks on Midoriya’s office door.

“Hey, Shouto?” She says.

“Come on in!” Midoriya calls, and Todoroki’s hands curl into fists as she pushes the door open. Midoriya pushes past her with a friendly wave and a,

“Bye Todoroki!” He starts leading you away, pausing a few feet from the door to adjust his backpack, just long enough for you to overhear Momo saying,

“I just, missed you, I guess.”

_____

A few minutes later in the car, your phone vibrates.

Todoroki: please be safe.

You: I’ll be okay!! Number one hero and all.

Todoroki: I need you to know there’s nothing going on between Momo and me.

Midoriya glances over and sees you frowning at your phone. He reaches over and pats your knee.

“Don’t worry about Todoroki and Yaoyorozu.” He says, giving your leg a squeeze. “Maybe it’s work-related.”

“It wasn’t.” You mumble. “But it’s,” you fold your hands in your lap. “It’s fine, I, it’s not a big deal.”

“It sounds like not a big deal,” Midoriya says cheerfully. “Especially when you say it like that.”

“It’s just that after everything it’s so hard for me to trust anyone,” you vent, “And I hate that something like that could make me doubt things, but I loved Bakugou, and he said he loved me, so can I even trust my own intuition?” You bury your face in your palms. “Sorry, sorry, Midoriya we can talk about work.”

“I’m your friend.” He says kindly. “I can listen to you vent, it’s fine.” He rubs a circle into your knee with his huge, scarred hand. “They have a lot of history, I’d probably be worried too.” You groan softly. “But anyone who doesn’t choose you is a fucking idiot.” You laugh bitterly. “I’m serious.”

“Thanks, Midoriya.” You say, a soft, sighing sound. “I don’t want him to think I’m crazy, I’m just gonna respond.” He nods.

You: I get it!! We can talk more when I’m back like you said.

Todoroki: You know I care about you, a lot right?

You: yeah I do.

You: I trust you, okay?

Todoroki: you don’t know what that means to me.

“I trust Todoroki.” You say out loud, closing your eyes. “I do. I’m choosing to.” Midoriya nods. “I am.” You repeat, playing the soft moments you’ve shared in your mind, the times he could have slept with you, and instead listened to you, cared for you, touched you gently. Midoriya pats your thigh.

“Good.” He says. “That’s good.”

_________

“How could you want to meet with me so early,” Mina grumbles, crutching around to her desk and then flopping in her chair with little regard to the cast on her leg. “I already have to take it easy for like two months while we do physical therapy, my life is bad-”

“I ran into y/n.” Kirishima blurts, “And at first y’know, I was,” he lets out a little huffy nervous breath, “It was weird because-”

“Because I went to the hospital for a few weeks and you all lose control of your dicks and Bakugou loses his mind?” She snaps, “Not that anyone cares, but us being down a healer isn’t great either.” Kirishima winces, and pushes the mug of coffee he’d made her across the desk, taking a seat in her office. She sips it grumpily, softening.

“Sucks.” Kirishima says quietly. “I feel badly that you got hurt. I know how much it matters to you that you’re out there, doing what you can to help people.” Mina’s dark sclera makes her difficult to read to some, but Kirishima is well versed in the body language of one of his closest friends. He watches her hands bunch up, then flatten in defeat.

“Yeah, well Mr. Indestructible,” She smiles weakly, “You brought me coffee and I snapped at you. So, sorry about that.” Kirishiima shrugs, patting her hands.

“Rough few weeks. And Bakugou didn’t make it easy on any of us.” She says, staring at the coffee, then looking back up at Kirishima, sitting patiently in the chair.

“I apologize for interrupting,” she sips the coffee.

“I apologize for the 8:30 meeting.” Kirishima says, getting up, shutting the door and sitting back down. “I know we’re alone, but I think Bakugou slept in his office.” She moans and rubs her eyes.

“Last interruption, but who’s gonna tell him the me-me-whine-whine-no-one-may-worry-for-me-martyr routine is actually more emotional labor than if he just cried in front of us when he was sad.”

“Not me.” Kirishima says, scooting forward. “So, I ran into y/n.” Mina nods. “And she uh,” he reddens, “Laid into me a bit, deservedly so, probably-”

“Probably?” Mina repeats.

“Definitely, definitely.” Kirishima flashes his palms. “But she said something odd, she said the least I could have done would have been to call.” Mina’s brow furrows.

“But you’ve been calling her?” Mina says, cocking her head to one side, “And so have I, hell Denki, Sero, we all called. And texted.”

“I know,” Kirishima said, “I know, and I’ve been thinking, which-” he holds up a hand, “Save the comment about how that’s unusual for me for another time.”

“That’s weird.” Mina rubs her eyes. “It’s really weird. You’ve totally called her, I think you called her like, an hour after you left, that’s what you said?”

“Yeah I left her that voicemail about how you know, I felt bad for chasing after Bakugou, that her friendship is important to me and I didn’t want her to be alone.”

“Yeah,” Mina chews her lip. “The whole thing is so weird to me because-”

“Because Bakugou was always so protective of her around other guys!” Kirishima cuts her off excitedly, “I know, I was saying this to Denki but he dismissed it.”

“I mean,” Mina stares at her reflection in the coffee. “I don’t think it’s that far fetched that he put his foot in his mouth, but fuck remember when someone looked at her wrong when we were in school?” Kirishima shivers.

“It was an important part of the way he expressed care for her,” Kirishima thinks about it, “Bakugou being protective was a kind of love language. I just think the whole thing is weird.”

“It is,” Mina agrees, “But because there so many moving parts, there’s Shindou, there’s Deku who was there for some reason, I heard she’s staying with Todoroki from Jirou, but that Todoroki’s still fucking Yaoyorozu.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “And we’ve all been calling her, and hitting voicemail right away.”

“Which I assumed meant she’d blocked me?” Kirishima says, “Which makes sense but why would she block you?”

“And if she’d blocked you,” Mina says, “Why would she ask why you hadn’t called?” Kirishima shrugs.

“She wouldn’t.”

_______

Todoroki’s flops so hard into his chair it nearly breaks. He buries his face in his hands. Powerless, powerless, powerless. Outplayed. Was Deku right, had he been foolish to think he could protect you from what his friend was planning, what he’d already set in motion? It had take an hour of polite conversation with Momo before she’d left, with an odd look on her face. His phone buzzes, and he nearly doesn’t pick it up, waiting for two rings before swiping answer right across Kirishima’s face.

“What’s up?” He says voice gruff, betraying just a little anxiety.

“We need to talk to y/n, right now, is she with you?"

"Ah," Todoroki pauses, pouting a little, "She's with Midoriya."

"Fuck."

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