After All Might showed up, he whisked the three students to safety along with your wounded teacher before leaping back into the fight. With the Number One hero on the scene, the villains were clearly outclassed but refused to abandon their mission. It would've been admirable if their goal wasn't to murder the Symbol of Peace and anyone standing in their way.
The trio of students made a mad dash for the exit, rushing Aizawa to safety. Although once you made it out of the building Midoriya paused, conflicted as though his intention wasn't written all over his face.
"It's okay. You can go be by All Might's side," you said, making his eyes shimmer. "We can handle Aizawa, right Tsu?"
"Kero!" Asui let out an affirmative ribbit. "For sure!"
"See?" You looked back at Midoriya. "Go on. Just try not to break any more bones, 'kay?"
Midoriya's green eyes grew full and shaky. He'd thought for certain that you would try to talk him out of it, but you didn't appear even remotely phased. Was it just your sleepy, uncaring attitude or…? His chest felt tight at his next thought. Were you really that confident in his abilities? In him?? Midoriya didn't trust himself to respond verbally, instead bowing his head with an assenting hum and hoping that it hid his blushing face from view. You watched him race back to the USJ before continuing on with Tsu to get Aizawa medical attention.
***
The pair waited outside Recovery Girl's office for what felt like forever once you made it back on campus grounds. Your teacher had lost a lot of blood along the way and would likely require a lengthy healing session. Beside you, Asui was silently brewing in a storm of worry and concern while your leg bounced with jitters. Normally by this time of day you'd be craving a nap, but your whole body was alight with frantic energy. You tried to angle away from Tsu, tried to cover your face with your hand, but it was impossible to escape the heady scent coming off of her.
This sudden hunger in your belly… it wasn't good, and it damn sure wasn't heroic. You felt sick, hating the way your body responded to the potent fear of your own classmate. You were salivating . Why did it smell so yummy? The more you tried to ignore it, the louder your mind buzzed with the urge to sink your teeth into her. Just when you thought you couldn't stand it any longer, the infirmary door opened.
Recovery Girl smiled. "As much as he might despise it, Eraserhead is awake. Your professor will be just fine."
Asui sighed in relief, and you could finally breathe easily too as her anxiety subsided. Your mind reeled. What the hell was that? The two of you turned to leave, but Recovery Girl tapped you with her cane.
"Aizawa would like to see you," she said. "He asked for you by name."
By name? That stuck out to you.
You reluctantly followed the tiny old woman into the infirmary. Recovery Girl sat at her desk while you took timid steps towards your bedridden teacher. Aizawa was sitting up in one of the cots, appearing mummified beneath an absurd amount of bandages that covered a majority of his body. The bags under his tired eyes were even darker than usual, and he stared at you for a very long time before finally speaking.
"I was going to have you removed from my class."
Your heart sinks, and you take a seat in the chair at his bedside feeling numb. It's not like you didn't see this coming. It was fun while it lasted, but it seems you were finally being roused from this dream and thrust back into the harshness of reality.
"You weren't improving," he continued. "You hate using your quirk. You sleep through lectures, you aren't proactive—"
"I get it, okay?" Your fists clenched. He just always had to drag shit.
Aizawa softened his tone. "Today, you threw all of that out the window in order to protect your classmate. What changed?"
"Tsu was scared," you replied simply.
"And you weren't?"
"I was," you confessed. "But I wanted… I wanted to make the villain scared, too."
That's not what heroes are supposed to say. They're supposed to uphold justice and strive for peace and love or whatever. Yet admitting it out loud makes you feel surprisingly unburdened. You remove your mask as a single tear slips down your cheek. Even if your dreams of being a hero were dashed, at least you could begin to speak your truth. However, you had a feeling that living in said truth would prove to be a monumental task.
"A hero who strikes fear in the hearts of villains, huh?" The smirk in his voice makes you look up at Aizawa in shock. "It'll be tough if you remain too stubborn to use your quirk on the other students. Do you think you have what it takes… to go beyond?"
You stare at the domino mask in your hands, feeling the weak and sputtering flame of passion inside of you rekindle, burning a little brighter. You thought that it had been over. It's far too easy to fall into despair, but this road you were on was long and arduous. You would have to strengthen your resolve if you wanted to reach your goal, to achieve your dream.
"I'll push passed my limits," you declared. "So I can prove it to you and everyone else!"
Aizawa frowned. "That's not—"
The infirmary door burst open suddenly as Midoriya entered the room.
He smiled tearfully and approached your teacher. "Aizawa-sensei, I'm so glad you're okay!! You were so brave and cool protecting us like that. All Might and the other teachers took care of the villains, so there's nothing to worry about!"
"Ugh," Aizawa made a face. "Don't get my bandages wet with your tears or Recovery Girl will have to redo them."
"I will not," Recovery Girl piped up from behind her clipboard. "My meager supplies are meant for students, not staff."
"You can always cry on me, Midoriya-kun,"you purred. "Did you get hurt?"
"Nope!" He held out his hands proudly. "Just the same two broken fingers. I was careful, just like you told me!"
You bit your lip to fight back the dopey grin trying to spread its way across your face. When he speaks so earnestly like that it really makes your heart pound. It was always the simple things he did that had such a profound effect.
Recovery Girl used her cane to swat at his ankle with startling accuracy. "Humph! Two broken fingers is your idea of careful?"
Midoriya winced in pain, and you fretted over him. Recovery Girl admonished your classmate and your teacher for giving her so much work. Aizawa feigned sleep in his cot. The infirmary was filled with all sorts of energy, and it made you feel… good. Alive. It's true, your life was now rife with so much danger but also so much excitement and so many interesting people. You kept your dream tucked close to your chest, nestled in the safety of your heart. More than anything, you wanted to preserve this. You never wanted to wake up. You never wanted to go back to that cold, empty reality.
In the days that followed, UA did everything in its insurmountable power to keep the villainous attack on the USJ under wraps. Thankfully Midoriya was the only student injured during the battle from his self inflicted wounds. Still, a few more of your classmates moved into the dormitory as an extra safety precaution, so Heights Alliance grew a bit more lively. Now you were able to eat sweets with Sato whenever you wanted and meet Koda's pet bunny. Everyone did their best to strive for normalcy, but your sleepy eyes picked up on the quiet waves of foreboding that clouded the air.
UA was no longer considered untouchable.
Hagakure invited you to a sleepover in her dorm. At your big age, it sounded a little silly to admit that you were excited, but it was the truth. The invisible girl's room was frilly and feminine, and she had a veritable mountain of stuffed animals. The two of you watched movies, played video games, and gossiped late into the night. Somehow Hagakure had a little bit of dirt on nearly everyone in your class. It was kinda scary! You noticed that she didn't seem keen on falling asleep, but eventually it overtook her. A soft smile played on your lips as you listened to her gentle snores from where you lie on the floor before dozing off yourself.
You're awakened just a couple hours later by your friend's panicked whimpers. The pink satin of her bedsheets have been cast aside, and the collar of her pajama top is damp with sweat. Hagakure writhes in her sleep, and the stench of fear permeating the room is almost suffocating. She's having a nightmare. It takes only a moment of deliberation before you're removing your glove and reaching out to wake her. You feel the familiar prickle of your quirk activating. Her invisible hand is cold and clammy to the touch as the world around you bleeds into something anew.
You're floating.
Weightless.
Boundless.
Then the smell hits you, forbidden and covetable and powerful. It grounds you.
You're in home room, suspended in the air above your classmates as they stare ahead with blank, vacant expressions. When you wave a hand in front of Kirishima's face, there is no response. You spot yourself in the back in your usual seat, and the empty look in your eyes gives you the creeps. Curiosity makes you draw closer, swimming toward yourself through the air. Is this really what you look like? The moment your hand grazes your own cheek, there's a pinching in your mind.
You're sitting at your desk suddenly, and the vision around you sharpens. The realization hits you like a brick to the face, clear and undeniable. Somehow, you're in Hagakure's dream. You hear a choked sob from the front of the room, and you recall distinctly. You're in Hagakure's nightmare.
There's a girl you don't recognize hugging her knees to her chest, sobbing profusely. Her wavy hair is chartreuse with flecks of pink that catch the light. You stand up and make your way closer in a trance, helplessly drawn to the dark cloud of fear surrounding her. The hunger in your belly is impossible to ignore. You want to devour her. You're close enough now to hear the tremor in her soft voice, and the recognition of her tone lasers your focus.
"I'm right here!" she sobs. " Look at me. Please? No one ever sees the real me."
"Toru-chan?" You gasp.
Tear filled eyes glance up at you, and you're struck by the myriad of colors in her irises. Violet at the top, teal on the bottom, and yellow in the center. Looking in her eyes is like peering into stained glass windows. She is a kaleidoscope of ever shifting beauty. You get a twisted thrill from the way she looks so utterly broken. You hate it. You hate how much you love it. Pressure builds in your brain, but you push back against it defiantly.
"I see you, Toru." You get down on the floor and scoop her into your arms. "And you're so beautiful. Gorgeous."
Holding her makes you feel like you're going to explode. She's brimming with fear, and it's electrifying where her skin meets yours. The smoky cloud of dread seeps into your pores. You don't know how, but you know for certain that you're consuming her terror. It feels so damn good, and the taste of it is somehow even better. You're disgusted with yourself for taking so much pleasure in this. What's wrong with you? You don't even deserve to be her—
"Friends," Hagakure murmurs your name dreamily. "Let's be the best of friends… forever."
You hold her tighter as the edges of this dream world peel away and disintegrate. The other students fade away until only the two of you remain. Your body thrums with energy as Hagakure begins to disappear.
"Yeah," you whisper. "I'd like that too."
You blink, and you're back in Hagakure's room. Her breathing has leveled out, and the invisible girl is curled up in bed sleeping peacefully. You vow to never forget her features. Stupefied, you lay back down on your pallet on the floor, staring at the ceiling. You feel strangely full, as though you've just enjoyed a good meal. Your body is restless and fidgety as you wait for the familiar embrace of sleep to take you.
It never comes.
The next morning Hagakure is her usual bubbly self and doesn't mention anything strange about the night before even when prompted, so you don't bring it up either. She clings even closer to you, which makes the gnawing of guilt twist inside you. Deep down, you can't help but feel as though you've violated her by invading her dream.
At the end of the school day Aizawa announced that the UA Sports Festival was approaching in two weeks' time, encouraging the students to use the special event to get noticed as the country's top heroes would be watching. The class started to get pumped up, especially Uraraka, who was uncharacteristically spirited. She boldly declared in front of everyone that she was going to try her hardest to win.
Her infectious passion lit a fire under you, too. This was another chance to prove yourself— not only to your class but to the whole country! No longer would you be known as Twenty, the bottom of the barrel, the worst of Class 1-A. You were practically vibrating with quiet determination.
As class was dismissed, you filed out with the others but soon discovered there was a large crowd of students blocking the exit. You raised an eyebrow, voicing your confusion at the intense stare down.
"Ain't it obvious, Twenty?" Bakugou shoulder checked you as he made his way to the front of the crowd. Asshole! "These losers came to size up the competition. We're the class that threw down with real villains, so you extras better back away."
His menacing glare made most of the other students take a step back, but a tall guy with purple hair and droopy eyes remained unfazed. He was attractive, especially standing up to Bakugou like that. The deep bass in his voice when he spoke had you hanging onto every word.
"Naturally the hero course is full of arrogant jerks," he said. "But there's plenty of us in the General Department who can be transferred into your class, replacing any of you." His cold gaze slid over to you, freezing you in place. "You're the worst, right? It'd be easy to take your spot."
You keeled over, feeling like you'd just been sucker punched. "Emotional… damage."
The violet haired young man smirked before turning away. "Consider this a formal declaration of war."
The crowd began to disperse, but a blond with eyes almost as crazy as Bakugou's stopped to hurl more insults at your class. "Don't embarrass the rest of us at the Sports Festival! So what if you went up against villains? That won't matter when Class 1-B wipes the floor with you!"
Midoriya and Hagakure followed close behind as you all but stormed out of the building, heading towards the dorms. The unusually fierce look on your face makes them wither.
"I'll show them all," you stated. "They want war? I'll give them war."
"You'll have to work pretty hard," Hagakure hums. "Why don't you train with Midoriya?"
"Eh?" The both of you said in unison.
"Your fighting styles are complimentary," she continued on. "I'm sure it would be mutually beneficial. Whaddya say, Mido?"
Midoriya was obviously tongue tied, so you swooped in. "You can't just volunteer other people for stuff, Toru! And besides," you shivered thinking about the sheer power of One For All. "Midoriya would shatter my skeleton."
"I wouldn't do that," Midoriya blurted out. "We could just spar without using quirks. That is— I-I mean, if you wanted to train with me. I really don't mind helping out!"
The image of a sweaty, flushed, and panting Midoriya flashed in your mind. "I accept."
Midoriya was stunned silent by such a swift response, but Hagakure did nothing to hide her amusement. "Wow, just like that, huh? No hesitation whatsoever!"
"Toru," you said in warning. You can just picture those multicolored eyes shining with mirth. She's definitely onto your little crush. You folded your arms. "I am fueled by vengeance alone. My intentions are pure."
"Whatever you say, bestie! Mido, give me your phone real quick." You looked over her invisible shoulder as Hagakure tapped her digits into his phone while the boy blushed. "I'm gonna text you about the Modern Art homework." She handed the device to you. " You text him with a time and place for your sparring session."
"R-right," your fingers shook as you typed out the message to yourself on his screen. "I'll see you then, Midoriya!"
The green haired young man watched the two girls disappear into the dormitory, clutching his phone in his hand. He can't believe his luck right about now. Not only did he just get phone numbers from 2 (two?!) of his female classmates, but one of them was you. The girl he couldn't get off of his mind since the day you met, when you saved him from the sludge villain.
Should he text you right now or would that seem too eager? Who was he kidding, Midoriya would trail after you on a leash like a good little puppy if you asked him to.
He had agreed to spar with you because he wanted the both of you to improve. Midoriya sees how much you push yourself in class and how hard you are on yourself. He wished he could make you see what he sees when he looks at you.
Midoriya shows up early to your sparring session in one of the the smaller training facilities to familiarize himself with his surroundings. Also to school his rapid heartbeat and sweaty palms before you arrive. He's nervous and excited, but he sternly reminds himself that this is about hero business not pleasure. That doesn't stop the air from rushing out of his lungs when you walk through the door.
You're apologizing for keeping him waiting, but he's much more concerned with what you're wearing. You're dressed all in black; a long sleeved athletic top, leggings, and of course your trademark gloves. Your body is fully covered, yet the swell of your breast, the plump of your ass and thick thighs are all clearly evident beneath the form fitting clothing. Much like your personality, your outfit is coy and tempting, somehow revealing everything and nothing at all.
Something something juxtaposition.
Midoriya is suddenly grateful he had the foresight to wear compression leggings beneath his own athletic shorts, because it hides the growing hardness stirring to life below his waist.
"You're all red and sweaty," you comment. "Did you get started without me?"
"A-aha, just a little warm up," he manages.
"Good," you fall into your defensive stance. "I'm all warmed up, too. Let's do this."
The look in your eyes is intense, and you seem well rested. He figures that you must've taken a nap before this as he prepares to attack. He aims a punch over your shoulder, and you easily bat it aside. You smell really nice. His kick comes slower than usual, and you counter. The frown on your face makes him pause.
You shove him back roughly. "Dammit, Midoriya, why did you even agree to this if you were going to hold back?" You're glaring at the floor. "Everyone always looks down on me… but I can't stand it coming from you, too." The passion in your eyes when you look back up at him is paralyzing. "Quirk or no quirk, fight me with everything you have or… or I'll never get stronger!"
Green eyes shine with the realization of his own actions. It's true that he had been distracted (by you), and he was pulling his punches to keep from hurting you. But you really thought he of all people looked down on you? Midoriya didn't want to be selfish, and this wasn't the way to build your confidence. He clenched his fists, steeling his nerves.
"You're right," he said. "I'm sorry. Let's try again."
The moment you got back in your stance, Midoriya was upon you with a whole new ferocity. Your back hit the mat hard, the weight of his body pinning you firmly beneath him. He pointedly ignores the way his cock throbs at the sight of you breathless underneath him and helps you to your feet for another round. You give him an appreciative nod, determined to improve.
It doesn't take long before you're both covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his light skin flushed pink. Again and again Midoriya pins you to the mat, feeling thoroughly ashamed by the damning way his body reacts to your grunts and groans of exertion. The two of you have been at it for hours now. When your bodies intertwine, he wonders if you can feel how painfully hard you've made him.
Your timing is off with the next counter, and Midoriya has your face pressed into the floor, chest against your back. Stubbornly, you attempt to writhe and wriggle your way out of his firm grasp. He feels hot, wishing you would just tap out so you both can reset. If you keep moving like that then you'll definitely rub up against his length. His dick aches so much that it hurts.
His heavy, panting breaths ghost over the sliver of exposed skin above your collar. You arch your spine, round ass pressed against his throbbing manhood in a way that makes him whine and shudder. He knows for certain that you felt it then and freezes, panicky and unsure what to do. You're probably going to think he's a total creep or tell everyone in class and never want to speak to him again—
In a flash, you flip over and pin him down to the mat. The shock in his face mirrors your own surprised expression before you grin broadly. You stand up, joyous.
"I did it! I actually did it!"
"Y-you cheated," he choked out. "Rematch."
"I have no clue what you're talking about!" Your eyes say otherwise as you towel off the sweat from your brow. "And it's best to leave on a win, but… same time tomorrow?"
Midoriya grins despite himself. "Yeah, I'm down."
For the next two weeks leading up to the UA Sports Festival, you and Midoriya trained together vigorously. Each day you improved little by little, honing your technique of counterattacks and increasing your grappling skills. Neither of you would speak of the heated sexual tension in the air, but it was felt. In the way he would press and poke against your thigh. In the way you would pant and groan into his chest. It was an ever present force, pushing the two of you together like colliding planets.
The two of you would go your separate ways at the end of each night, flushed and sweaty and high on the smell of each other. So doped out that you never noticed the glaring Symbol of Peace from where he spied just out of view. All Might was not pleased in the slightest.