Every Version Of You

3rd year shouyou and a visiting oikawa dropping by for the interhigh preliminaries

— to the wind

teaching is hard. seeing izuku so distressed is harder.

word count: 2.1k

“knock knock.”

izuku sat, head in hand, at his desk. the windows in his classroom hung open, letting the cool breeze sweep through his already messy tufts of hair.

the distressed figure lifted his eyes to meet yours as you stood in the doorway of his class.

three years of teaching together and your routine had become pretty regular. coffee in the morning, passing each other in the hall as you somehow always took a bathroom break at the same time, lunch with the occasional shared grading, and the after school drama debrief until the custodians had to kick you out. high school kids always kept the stories coming to make an entertaining day for the both of you.

lunch was the current time. typically you would find him hanging on the door to your classroom, but instead, he sat ruggedly at his desk. a pencil shoved in his mouth to keep him from chewing his fingers.

izuku’s very obviously tired features lit up when he realized who it was that spoke from his doorway.

“oh, hey.” he responded with a drowsy demeanor.

this was different. and not a good different. as annoying as it was, you were typically the one shut up in your classroom, stewing over time consuming things like grades, itineraries, and everything else in between. izuku was the bright light that shone down on your horrid mindsets, bringing you back to a warm place, if even for a small time. you weren’t used to his personality being so…lackluster.

“you good?”

a long, heavy sigh travelled from his mouth and around the room, filling the already wind soaked air. izuku leaned back into his cushioned chair, pushing his hair back with a large hand. his restless eyes landed on the absolute mountain of paper in front of him and he drew his lips into a tight line. this was his way of communicating silently to you his very issue.

“i feel lost.” midoriya admitted hesitantly.

your feet moved on their own, taking you to sit crisscross on top of a student’s desk that was placed directly in front of his. like always, izuku now had your full attention.

“lost over what?”

he shrugged his shoulders haphazardly, his eyes still stuck on the papers strewn across his desk. this wasn’t a new sight to you or anyone else. izuku was notorious for keeping copious amount of clutter stashed away on his desk that already had limited space. with a brain that went as fast as his all day every day, he found it difficult to find the time to focus on cleaning a meaningless surface when he had countless other things to stress himself out over. but even this was over the top compared to the usual jumbled items.

“it’s just some grades, izuku. i can help you like usual. we can knock it out in no time.” you tried to reassure him.

when he shook his head in response, his stare still fixated on the pile, your stomach turned uncomfortably. midoriya was never one to decline an offer from you. especially because of the system you both subconsciously abided by. in times like this, if one of you offered help then typically the other would buy food, as a treat. after school dinners were a regular occurrence in your relationship.

“it’s not the grades.” his voice was low, “well, i mean, a little bit but, y’know.”

“i actually don’t know. you’re staring holes in those damn papers so i can’t really read you right now.”

your words snapped him out of the weird trance he had found himself in. the wind still blew lightly through his decorated class. the entire room screamed ‘izuku midoriya’. his personality was intertwined seamlessly with his own students’ personal flair. if you were still in school, izuku would have been the teacher you told your future kids about. maybe even been the teacher you thanked in your wedding speech.

the way you perched on the desk in front of his, completely enthralled with your concern for him, made his mouth run dry. even with your expression screwed up with confusion, he could still make out the features on your face that he had reluctantly grown to adore. not a single added wrinkle could deter him, even if that wrinkle was because of a face you directed at him. izuku could feel the guilt brewing in his gut.

“if i asked you something, could you be one hundred percent honest with me?” he asked.

“when am i not?” you responded nonchalantly, your chin resting in a propped hand.

the light chuckle that came from midoriya put your nerves at ease for a single moment. if you could give him an answer in hopes of never having to see him like this again, then you would gladly tell him whatever he wanted to hear.

“am i a bad teacher?”

silence permeated the warm room as you processed his question. in all the years you’d not only been his coworker, but his friend, the thought of him being a bad teacher never even made a shadow in your mind. years of stumbling over yourself to try and be a fraction of who he was as a teacher and a person made this question seem like the stupidest thing you’d ever heard.

“in what world are you a bad teacher?”

izuku crossed his arms onto his desk, leaning his head down as a way to hide from the world.

“what if i’m not doing enough?” his words seemed strained.

“izuku, what the hell are you talking about?”

had a student made a snide comment? maybe a rude gesture? the kids in both of your classes weren’t horrible but they definitely weren’t angels either. the idea of izuku overthinking a mean word from a high schooler seemed totally plausible.

“i’m scared that not a single word i say gets through to them. like, what if they walk out of here when they graduate, stupider than when they came in?” he asked, “not that they were stupid or anything when they came in, y’know, i’m just saying from a general standpo—“

“chill. you’re rambling right now.” you interrupted, which was something you had to do often.

another sigh left his mouth and he turned to gawk out the window. the trees were a beautiful shade of orange, but you weren’t looking at them. you couldn’t. not when midoriya was sitting right in front of you.

“i’m fucking terrified that i’m failing them.” he kept his gaze to the trees that danced in the wind, “i sit here and talk all day, which they don’t care about. grade their papers, which are scarcely up to par. am i doing something wrong? is there more i could be doing to make them want to be here?”

there it was; the classic teacher complex. you would be lying if you said you didn’t have these same aching doubts. any teacher that said otherwise was either perfect or a grade A moron.

“well first of all, you aren’t failing anyone. you’re a great person and an even greater teacher.” you slid off of the place you sat and walked to his desk, leaning on it carefully. you looked out of the window with him, your arms crossed tightly across your chest. “and second of all, those are all normal feelings. i mean, i feel the same almost seventy five percent of the time.”

he shifted his gaze to look at you, his eyes settling on the back of your head, staring in disbelief. he wished he could be as great at his job as you were. your tendency to connect with anyone and everyone brought a sense of jealousy to his mind nearly every day. although, he couldn’t pinpoint why. it’s not like he had trouble in that department.

he took things too seriously, gave himself a hard time over the smallest of things and overthought every situation. izuku was jealous of your ability to fly from the seat of your pants and say ‘fuck it’ if things went awry. granted, it wasn’t fun for you most of the time, but sometimes no plan is better than a strict step by step. this ideal had started to rub off on izuku after so much time spent together, but it was still a work in progress. he was just happy to have a part of you within his own personality at all times.

“yeah, but—“

“there’s no but. that’s just the way it is.” you cut him short.

a third sigh. this was the most exasperated you’d ever seen him. he stood from his comfy chair and leaned on the side of the desk with you. he admired the way the sunlight from the window perfectly complemented your features, outlining your natural beauty utterly and completely.

“you’re a fucking fantastic teacher. you can’t beat yourself up over things that are out of your control.” you turned to meet his eyes, “the kids are here and you’re guiding them. that’s all that matters. the mistakes you feel like you’re making in between won’t mean anything in the next year, let alone tomorrow.”

big green eyes stayed glued to yours, appreciation emanating from his pupils. you always knew exactly what to say, even if your words didn’t fall under the ‘advice’ category half the time.

you uncrossed an arm from your chest to rub comforting circles into your friends’ back. izuku’s muscles immediately loosened under your touch, the tenseness he’d held since this morning melting under your fingertips. he could never have a bad day, not when he knew you were just next door. not when he had the times he would see you written on a sticky note hidden in his desk drawer. after 3 years of faking a bathroom break just to take a glance at you in the hall, he knew you meant more to him than just as a coworker.

a smile sprawled across your face when midoriya gently laid his head on your shoulder with another large sigh. your hand traveled to play with the hair that grew from the back of his head.

“you hungry?”

midoriya nodded his head in response, humming softly as your fingertips lightly toyed with green tufts of hair.

“what did you bring today?” you already knew the answer, but you always asked anyhow.

“you’re actually never going to guess.” he lifted his head to look at you through his lashes.

“let me guess, anyway.”

izuku raised his eyebrows, as if saying ‘please do’ as he watched you feign confusion while you thought.

“hmm, katsudon?”

he shook his head, leaving your jaw to drop open in complete shock.

“you’re joking. since when do you not bring katsudon?”

“since i forgot my lunch at home this morning.”

maybe four other times had he forgot his food, and it was either because he woke up late or was already thinking so much the moment he woke up that his packed lunch slipped his mind.

“that kind of day, huh?” you asked.

“yeah. that kind of day.” he said, his head hung low.

you didn’t spare a word when you walked away from your spot on his desk, leaving the room quickly. midoriya watched after you, his eyes stuck to the door you just walked out of. everyday, he was thankful with how quickly you introduced yourself to him when you both started this job. neither of you could get through a day of teaching if it wasn’t for the other.

the wind caught your hair perfectly as you walked back in, bringing a stupid grin to his already awestruck face.

“tada! lunch is served, my kind fellow.”

there sat your all too familiar lunch box, open and ready to be emptied.

“y/n, i’m not going to to eat yo—“

“the bell is going to ring in 9 minutes and i’m starving. so you can either eat this with me or have your kids make fun of the noises your stomach makes when you’re hungry.” you pulled a chair around to the front of his desk, “you pick.”

a staring standoff that lasted for maybe 6 seconds, leaving you the winner, elicited yet another sigh from your coworker as he walked to his seat and plopped into it.

midoriya carefully eyed you as you brought out item after item, almost as if you packed extra just in case. you both took hold of the plastic forks you’d grabbed from the drawer of your desk. he could tell this was your way of comforting him, and you could tell this was his way of saying thank you. no extra words were needed when you could already read each other well enough.

“anything interesting happen yet?” you asked expectantly, forking a bit of your lunch into your mouth.

“june and lucas broke up.” he laughed out.

there was the man you adored. a smile plastered beautifully on his face as he happily told you about his day so far. you would never let that disappear again.

you listened intently to every word that came from his mouth, both of your shoes playing footsies under his desk.

a/n: okay yeah high school teacher izuku is perfect and hot but i’m about to write a book about elementary school teacher izuku because in my mind that’s literally my husband FAWWWKKKAHG

bkdk

kiss him you fool

Deku: I know Bakugou can be a bit…rough around the edges, but he has his good qualities, too!

Monoma: I agree. For example, he’s very generous.

Deku: You think so?

Monoma: Yeah. Every time he opens his mouth, he gives away his ignorance.

extra credit | i. midoriya

⇨ midoriya agrees to tutor UA’s least interested student for extra credit.

burning like the sun

祝酷拉皮卡生日快乐！（这边忘记发了）

if i die

IF THE SUN REFUSED TO SHINE...

Izuku Midoriya x fem!reader synopsis: running to him, even after the world turned dark. warnings: angst?, hurt/comfort, childhoodfriend!reader, reader is not a student at u.a, takes place during season 6 ep 137, PRE-RELATIONSHIP, potentially ooc. that's all i think?

It was gloomy that day, the rain had hurtled towards the angry crowd of civilians formed at the front of U.A. Everyone was angry and confused, some felt betrayed and others tricked. They didn’t want him here, fearing for their safety at the thought of the boy with a target on his back. They screamed and yelled, children cried, teachers tried their best to pacify what had started to become a mob.

You thrashed in your mother's arms, a trembling in your lower lip as you tried to claw your way out of the suffocating embrace. "Let go!" You cried, turning to stare at your mother– desperation clouding all rational thoughts in your mind. 

“It’s too dangerous! Calm down!” Your mother scolded, fingers trembling against the sleeves of your sweater, trying to hold you as close as possible– out of harm’s way, just as any mother would. Just like she would when you were younger and would waddle into her room clutching your blanket, wiping at the fat tears that rolled down chubby cheeks. She wanted you safe, in her arms, where you couldn’t be harmed by scared citizens protesting for their safety. 

But you couldn’t let her. Not this time. 

You had to get to Izuku. It repeated like an alarm, loud and insistent as Uraraka’s speech lingered in your ears. You didn’t care if it was dangerous. It didn’t matter to you. As long as you could reach him, touch him, hold him. None of it mattered.

He was probably crying– you know he was. The two of you always held a small knack for knowing when the other was upset, even as children that played in the warm rays of the sun, beaming and giggling happily. “Please! I have to get to him!” You begged, jerking this way and that. “It’s Izuku, mum!”

And then a kid ran past you. He was small and had a red hat, and red sneakers that looked like Izuku’s– a lady cried out after him, “Come back!”  You nearly stopped to stare, but you had become acutely aware of the fact your mother had loosened her grip momentarily to look over her shoulder to identify the voice.

That was your opening. 

You slipped between her fingers, fleeting like a leaf in the wind, an apology in the back of your mind as you pushed your legs into a sprint. The rain splashed under your thundering feet, droplets hitting the bare skin of your legs, but you didn’t care. It wasn’t a priority right now. He was.

Izuku with his green eyes and unruly hair, with his cute little freckles that you always loved. Izuku with his heart of gold and sweet smile, always ready to lend a helping hand. Izuku, who had stopped your world the day he left that letter on your door, shrouding it in a cloud of darkness.

As you shoved your way through the crowd, your heart squeezed as the sight of him became clearer and clearer to you. He was standing now, fat tears rolling down his freckled cheeks as the kid from earlier and a lady with bunny-like features wrapped their arms around him.

“Izuku!” You had barely a second before his name ripped itself out of your throat in a raw, desperate cry. 

His gaze turned up to you, green eyes wide and confused as he registered your presence mere metres away from reaching him. A whispered call of your name fell from his lips, quiet and wavering– more tears streaming down his face. 

There was no time to prepare before your body slammed into his, sending him stumbling back a few steps as your arms curled around his shoulders in a tight embrace, squeezing him tight. “Zuku.” You sobbed, fingers curling into the dirty and tattered fabric of his suit. “Oh god, Zuku. I– I didn’t know where you went after I found that letter. I was so worried and then there were the rumours– Are you–”

Another whisper of your name fell from his lips, big hands resting at your waist and pulling you closer. “I– I’m okay. I’m sorry.” God, his voice. It was still so warm even after all he’s facing. 

You pulled back, just enough to press your forehead to his, eyes squeezed shut– savouring the feeling of him. “Don’t apologise.” You muttered, tears still roaming down both of your faces. “Just… just stay here.” Don’t go. Stay here with me, where it’s safe. You wanted to say, but you knew his departure was inevitable. He would leave you, again. And you’re not sure he’ll return this time.

So you held him closer, lips inches away from each other as you both soaked in the warmth of the other’s embrace. And for the first time in awhile, it felt like the sun was shining once again.

men who yearn😩😩😩😩😩😩