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Love Like You

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It was a well-known fact that everyone in Class 1-A adored Izuku Midoriya, from the outright proclamations of Todoroki and Uraraka, to the tamer subtleties of Bakugo and Tokoyami. 

Lesser known was how MUCH everyone truly loved him.

The rest of the school would see him walking to class with Mina Ashido clinging to his arm, and in the same day see him being hand-fed imported cheese slices by Yuga Aoyama at lunch, with a followup of Tenya Iida fretting like a mother hen over Midoriya overworking himself AGAIN and CARRYING HIM to Recovery Girl despite the smaller boy insisting he was fine, darnit!

It was cute, said some.

Just a really tight-knit class, said others.

Downright creepy, Monoma definitely put in before wondering how in the world THAT could even work out.  Kendo KO-ing him for such perverse thoughts usually silenced him for the rest of the day.

Pretty much only two people outside of the class itself knew.

Aizawa told himself as long as no one got hurt, stupid horny sentimental teenagers could do whatever they wanted for 'team-building' or whatever the hell it was to them; as long as they didn't bring it into his classroom.

Recovery Girl had sexual health packets and protection mailed over to the dorm, and that was that.

And in the dorm's common room, with everyone in attendance, everything was spoken up about, and confessions were made.  Arrangements were set out.  Rules and communication were built on trust and consent.  And then Kaminari brought out the popcorn and movies for everyone to watch and enjoy.

And enjoy, they did, knowing that Midoriya loved them all as much as they loved him.

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Aoyama was bright, clingy, and flamboyant.

And come to find, very, very shy behind closed doors.

Midoriya found that out quickly enough, seeing the other boy look away and draw into himself as though shamed of his own body, mumbling quietly in French that took several tries from Midoriya to get him to translate.

He felt himself too wispy, too scrawny, in comparison to Midoriya.

Midoriya only laughed and pulled him in for a tight hug, kissing his cheek and telling him how silly he was.  Aoyama was lean, charming, and beautiful, and Midoriya was HAPPY to be with him.

He also found out then how AMAZING a kisser Aoyama was.

If Midoriya could get off on kisses alone, then Aoyama was the one to go to.  He knew exactly what to do with his lips and tongue, and where to put his hands in order to make the experience MINDBLOWING. 

They both preferred the lights dim, come to find; not out of embarrassment, but the glare of so many shiny surfaces was a bit of a mood killer.  The mood was enhanced, however, by the candles Aoyama would light, the reflections on so many mirrors making them feel like they were among a sea of flickering stars.

Ever a romantic at heart, Aoyama was.

As long as his body wasn't being scrutinized, Aoyama LOVED to take charge.  His hands were so soft against Midoriya's own rough scarred skin, able to find any patch of sensitivity and touch it awake.  When the time came for clothes to come off, he was the one shyly blushing over Aoyama's proclamations in both French and Japanese of how gorgeous he found Midoriya, likening him to the tales of ancient Greek heroes.

Aoyama's own body shyness was overcome with the worship of Midoriya's, pressing soft kisses over the other boy's face, neck, chest, trailing lower before boldly parting Midoriya's legs by the knees and proving his lips and tongue were not good for just kissing.  He reveled in every sound he was able to wrench from Midoriya's throat, adoring the way he would twitch and gasp and twist his fingers into Aoyama's hair and BEG.

Aoyama liked the begging.  It was cute. 

Cute evolved quickly into arousing, getting him through the first time and even better after.

To Aoyama's surprise, Midoriya wanted to be the bottom with them.  His emerald eyes were serious, so full of love and trust that Aoyama couldn't refuse him anything at that point.  Still, ever the romantic, Aoyama took his time with his beloved demigod, watching those mouthwatering back and shoulder muscles flex and contract as he prepared Midoriya, seeing a blush even in the dimness of his room, watching Midoriya bite his lip and make adorable little whimpers and squeaks.

He really, REALLY liked the begging.

Their first time, Midoriya was on his stomach, arms tight around a pillow, panting and moaning and BEGGING, though Aoyama kept at his own pace.  The begging was lovely, but he wanted to savor everything of Midoriya, to make their time together last as long as possible.

To make sure his quirk didn't go off before he did.

The second time, Midoriya pulled him close after he took off his belt, and simply held him, telling him that he didn't need to be afraid of his quirk because Midoriya wasn't afraid of his quirk.  It felt so foreign to be belly-to-belly with someone, it was almost overwhelming.  But Midoriya held him tightly until the fear passed, and then they made love facing each other.

His quirk didn't go off once. 

He cried when it was over, from happiness, from loving Midoriya so much.

From then on, he only held Midoriya face-to-face, loving Midoriya's trust in him more than anything in the world.

Aoyama pushed himself to do better, to BE better, for Midoriya, in body, mind, quirk, and soul. 

Midoriya only deserved the best.  His bien-aimé deserved nothing less.

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Ashido loved the weird and the intense.

But most of all, she had a major soft spot for the sweet with fiery undertones.

That was what she loved about Midoriya.

The boy was a literal cinnamon roll, too pure for this world, who cried at any emotion that peaked above 'average'.  The same boy could shatter a rock into dust, break his bones without flinching, and could smile through anything, even his own tears.  He could be a stammering, shy mess one moment, and leading a charge of enthusiasm the next.

The juxtaposition was intriguing, to say the least.

Ashido loved making Midoriya blush just as much as she loved seeing him in the throes of combat training, taking immense joy in the days they were teamed up together.  He had no fear of her acid, trusting her completely to control the measure of her acidity as they powerhoused their way through their opponents, coming up with new, more outrageous team moves to throw someone off.  Even Aizawa couldn't shout at them to stop having so much fun because it was actually an effective strategy.  

Perhaps they were being too reminiscent of his ex.  Who knew?

Their creative teamwork wasn't restricted to the training fields, no no. 

Ashido LOVED being creative and having fun with Midoriya in the bedroom.

Kisses with different flavored lip balms to see which one tasted the best (Ashido loved bubblegum and Midoriya had a fondness for sour cherry), putting on tacky colored lipstick to make kiss-pictures on each other's skin (she felt Midoriya was ROCKING that black shimmer lipstick), and having a blushing giggle fit over the different colored condoms they would choose (both settled on glow-in-the-dark-blue).

Their first time, Ashido picked the lip balm (green apple), the lipsticks (neon purple for her and orange for Midoriya), and the condom color (green, naturally; Midoriya always looked great in green), but let Midoriya pick the place (her room), the music (synth pop was something they both appreciated), and the starting line, being a blushing hot mess as he watched her push him to his back and climb right on.

Ashido never wanted Midoriya's cute confidence to falter; she kept the tone light and playful, but kept reminding him of how amazing he was, how cute and hot she thought he was, until he was able to reciprocate and confidently touch and hold her on his own. 

Strong hands that could break her never left so much as a bruise, arms that could crush her holding gently like a soft blanket.  Even at the peak of his orgasm, he didn't let his strength run wild, and kept admirable control as he held her tightly to him.

Ashido was sure to reward him with green-apple flavored kisses.

Sometimes she added cute accessories to their fun, trying (and failing) to convince him to get a real piercing but they had fun with clip-ons anyway.  Fake tattoos that made no sense, feathery boas, a pair of men's boxers that said JUICY on the back; anything to make him laugh and have fun with her.

Ashido loved Midoriya for indulging in her fun, and for having fun with her.  He never made her feel bad-weird or tacky or too loud or too spunky; he loved her for all her funky weirdness.  

And she definitely loved him for accepting that.

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If she had to really think about it, Asui found that Midoriya was her first real friend.

An unfortunate stigma that often came with many mutant-type quirks like hers and her family's, but Asui found herself not minding much in that aspect.  She had all the love and encouragement from her family that she could ask for.  Her parents were proud, and her siblings looked up to her.  She went into UA not expecting much in the way of future relationships. 

Midoriya had been her first big surprise. 

A bond had definitely formed during the USJ incident, she knew, and it only grew from there.  It seemed he opened up a lot of new experiences for her, including real friendship.  Others followed suit, and Asui found herself with more friends than she could ever have imagined.  It all stemmed back to Midoriya, though.

She would have to say Uraraka was her best girl-friend by far, but the deepest she ever felt was for Midoriya.  Despite everyone looking to HIM for leadership and support, he always looked to HER, making sure any partnership or team-up they had, everything was run down by her to make sure they succeeded.

His kindness above all was what she loved about him.

Once he finally got over his crippling shyness, he had no qualms at all about hugging her or holding her hand, a tinge of pink in his cheeks always showing until she asked him why he was still always blushing around her. 

He told her because she was so cute it was hard NOT to blush sometimes.

Asui was not a blusher, but the heat in her cheeks made her think summer had come early.  She was not an overly-emotional person, it just wasn't her nature, but it took everything she had not to leap onto him with a hug and a kiss.

Midoriya had also been her first kiss. 

It was the perfect setting, when she thought about it, walking hand-in-hand in an early spring rain (she told him she sometimes liked hopping in puddles and he shyly admitted to doing the same when no one was around), and sharing an umbrella when Midoriya impulsively hopped in a puddle that was deceptively deep, splashing them both and making him flail with a yelp to splash back into it fully.

Asui hadn't been much of a laughing type either, but she found herself in the puddle next to him from falling down laughing so hard.  Midoriya pouted by splashing at her with his hand, and she returned it before she found herself kissing him in the middle of the rain in a puddle.

And then they were both blushing.

And then laughing again when an actual frog hop-splashed into the puddle with a ribbit.

Asui knew then that she really loved Midoriya.

Midoriya liked making her laugh and blush, being intentionally sweet and tender whenever they were together just so he wasn't the only one being bashful about it.  She didn't mind so much, it being that Midoriya was the only one who could invoke that bashfulness from her.  He didn't even seem to mind the light layer of mucus she'd accidentally secreted the first time from nerves, remarking that the tingle actually felt ticklish, and that she smelled like rainy weather. 

Whenever they made love, it was slow and sweet, with plenty of kisses and a ton of cuddling before and after.  

And every time made her feel as warm and fuzzy as the first, though she knew that it helped that her absolute best and first friend was the one who made her feel that way.

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To say that Midoriya changed his life was an understatement.

From the bad first impression from them both off the get-go, Iida was soon introduced to the true spirit of a hero that was Izuku Midoriya.

Midoriya was the truest friend and the best hero Iida ever saw since his brother Tensei, sticking by him through thick and thin, and on several occasions, saving his life and his heart.

Iida didn't know when exactly it was he developed feelings for Midoriya.  Maybe it was day one watching the boy run back to the Zero-Pointer while everyone else ran away, seeing him leap and destroy it with one punch.

Or walking to the train station after their first day, seeing Midoriya smile at him brightly.

Or the dark point in his life when Midoriya reached out to him.

No, it was DEFINITELY the moment Midoriya came blazing in to save him, sparking all over with power and heroism that even the Hero Killer acknowledged.

Oh yes, it was definitely then.

Iida was not very good with overwhelming emotions, especially in figuring out what to do with them.  How exactly DOES one react to the object of their affection in a way that would indicate they were interested?  Gifts?  Poetry?  An essay on the complexity they made him feel?

Tensei smacked him upside the head and told him to just TALK to Midoriya before he embarrassed himself and others.

And so he did.  At length.  Until Midoriya's face was an unhealthy and worrying shade of red.  

He finally stopped talking and realized that the impending embarrassment was upon him and was about to Recipro-Burst himself out the window when Midoriya took his hand and squeezed it, saying he liked Iida too.

He Recipro-Burst, alright, but it was his heart pounding instead.

They had lunch dates at school and fun jogging dates after classes, and Iida's initial plan of doing things by the books went completely out the window at how much fun casual dating was.  It mostly felt like he was having fun with his best friend, but BETTER.

Even studying in his room was more relaxing and fun, Midoriya appreciating the fact that he had so many references on hand to use for their studies, something that made Iida preen with no small amount of pride.  Midoriya didn't make fun of his thorough attention to detail and practicality.  And he was a good study buddy; once you spent enough time with him, his mumbling began to make sense, and he had pretty decent insight to the assignments they were studying.  After some time, though, Iida began focusing on his work less and Midoriya more.

Midoriya's mumbling and chewing on pencil erasers and little doodles in his notebook became endearing to witness.  Too endearing.

Iida thought his days of impulsiveness were over.  He was wrong.

The rest of 1-A would never know because Midoriya would never tell, but Iida could not remain straight-laced when it came to his feelings for Midoriya.

In this aspect, at least, Midoriya didn't mind his impulsiveness at all.

After the fact, Iida was sure Tensei would be 'so proud' of his baby brother having his first makeout session on top of homework.  Iida almost felt like a delinquent.

But if he was a delinquent, then Midoriya was CRIMINAL, influencing and encouraging him and not holding him to his strict code of conduct like a good best friend should.  No, instead he allowed Iida to indulge in whatever whim that came to mind out of sheer curiosity or rush of desire, muttering and moaning words of encouragement that fulfilled Iida in a way perfect grades usually did.

For all the trust and care Midoriya gave to him, it was ten times that in how Iida took care of him.  He studied Midoriya's body thoroughly, finding and categorizing every sensitive spot, every scarred injury that ached up and needed rubbing out, every position that would make Midoriya beg. 

He never wanted for anything of his own; Iida had his best friend who saved his heart and protected his life.  Taking care of him was the VERY least Iida could give him.

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Uraraka fell in love with Midoriya from day one.

It started as a deep crush, as one might get after being saved from a giant robot.  It was high school, and crushes were to be expected.  Her parents had given her a lighthearted 'Talk' before she left, so she thought she knew what to expect.

Crushes and friendship were one thing, but all too soon, Uraraka began to realize what LOVE really was.  She didn't just feel butterflies when she was with Midoriya, she felt a warm blanket of safety around him.  She felt like she could do anything, brave any obstacle, face any fear when he was around.

With time, the mutual embarrassed jitters they had around one another ebbed away into the comfortable companionship they both grew to enjoy.

That wasn't to say Uraraka didn't love the times when she could hold his hand and steal kisses that made her feel like she was floating without a quirk. 

Their new relationship gave her a chance to see him in a way that her initial admiration had blinded her to.  Midoriya wasn't an all-powerful demigod among mortals, he was a ball of anxiety and self-esteem issues who always put others ahead of himself; usually in the not-healthy way.  It made Uraraka have a new mission statement in life to make sure Midoriya was always cared for, down to the littlest ways. 

Pushing too hard in training?  Use her quirk and make him float until he gave it a rest.

Too engrossed in studying to eat?  Nudge a little spoonful of mochi into his mouth mid-mumble until the deliciousness was too much to resist.

Neglecting to tell someone when his joints were acting up from bad weather?  Wrestle him into submission on the couch and make him relax with a back and shoulder rub.

She was SO glad she took up some grappling lessons in Aizawa's after-school programs.

Giving Midoriya his back and shoulder rubs had its downsides too.  It pained her every time she looked at his scarring and patchwork skin, being reminded of every time he went too hard starting with the entrance exam.  It never got any easier and each major infliction was worse than the last.  They were a testament to his fatal flaw of putting the world before himself, and she would often find herself muffling her crying when he couldn't see her, wondering what kind of life he had that made him feel like the world was owed another piece of his already-damaged body every time he stepped up to the plate.

In her studies to be a rescue hero, she also read up on anatomy and looked into courses in the medical-hero department that would be offered in third year, intent on becoming a licensed first-response nurse as well as a hero and additionally looked into countless videos about therapeutic massage.  As many times as they'd been alone together in her room, unclothed and in bed, she could barely fit on one hand the amount of times they'd actually made love.  She instead preferred to make sure Midoriya never left her room in any kind of pain, and he normally ended up dozing off from relieved exhaustion.

Uraraka didn't mind one bit.  She would sometimes lay out next to him, watching his face for any kind of discomfort whenever he shifted in his sleep, seeing the drastic improvement from the points where he came into her room with a sore back and aching shoulders, a quiet sort of pained exhaustion in his eyes that it took far too long for her to recognize and do something about.

As much as he did for everyone else, taking care of him when he couldn't take care of himself was the very least she could do. 

Her hero had done enough.

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Mineta's initial take of 'normal guys always have a secret perverted side' wasn't as incorrect a take as most saw it as.

But Midoriya was surprised -somewhat delighted- to find that it faintly applied to Ojiro.

For all the other boy bemoaned about being 'too normal' compared to everyone else, Midoriya found his tastes were definitely on the opposite end of the 'normal' spectrum.

Not that he found out about it right away, though.  Spending time with Ojiro was something Midoriya enjoyed.  The other boy had a wide variety of martial arts for Midoriya to learn from, as well as a killer action movie collection.  Ojiro made mention that action movies were what inspired him to use his quirk to pursue heroics, and was more than happy to share his collection with Midoriya for several movie nights in his room. 

It piqued Midoriya's interest enough to start trying some new moves with Ojiro, including grappling and judo, both of which Ojiro was more than proficient with.  Even with his own strength Midoriya was more often than naught no match for Ojiro's fifth limb, which was the deciding factor in all of their matches. 

At one point, though, Midoriya managed to get a good feint in and grab onto Ojiro's tail in a bear-hold, not having thought to ask if the tail was sensitive or not. 

Turned out it was.

Ojiro's tail strength was enough to lift all 75 kg of him off the floor to bring him up to eye level, just long enough for Midoriya to get a look at the gleam in Ojiro's eyes before the older boy threw himself onto his back and curled his tail to bring Midoriya in front of him, curling his arms around both Midoriya and his tail before turning to pin both under him.

Midoriya was admittedly more fascinated with the tail after that, finding that it was composed of almost pure thick muscle, with tough skin but definite sensitivity the closer it came to Ojiro's back.  Ojiro was only a little shy to admit he liked having his tail played with (which explained why he let Kaminari play with it when the other boy was anxious about something, Midoriya thought), and Midoriya was more than happy to oblige. 

A good portion of their time together -especially after judo training- was spent with Midoriya using Ojiro's tail as a body pillow while he and Ojiro watched one of the action movies, taking good care to pet and brush out the hair on the end and watch Ojiro blush and try not to squirm.  Midoriya definitely noticed, and made an offhand comment about not minding being pinned by it at all.

He didn't expect Ojiro to take it as a CHALLENGE, but he wasn't going to complain, really.

Ojiro turned out to be very creative in tail use, not limiting it to battle or a makeshift chair.  Izuku found himself liking having it curled around him to hold him aloft, freeing Ojiro's hands for better things to do to his body.  And the rest of Ojiro was just as flexible as his tail, making their sex lives much more interesting.

If only he were as flexible; it was hard to keep up with Ojiro's odd positions that required a fifth limb without once getting a cramp. 

Practice made perfect, after all.

Afterword, Izuku enjoyed hugging Ojiro's tail while Ojiro spooned him from behind, both of them watching through another of the action movies to unwind.  Ojiro was more than happy to share his tail with Izuku, glad that it wasn't something of his the other boy avoided entirely. 

With Izuku, he never felt like he was too different or too normal to belong with everyone else.  Izuku made him feel like he belonged entirely.

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Kaminari wasn't known to his classmates for being smart; he was the fun guy, the comic relief at best. 

It wasn't like he didn't enjoy that role; he liked making his friends laugh and lighten up the mood.  It was enough of a role he played that it seemed almost comical when he did anything outside that role.  It was why he was glad no one looked too closely at his room during the contest, or they would've had questions and possibly teasing about his classic literature collection or his art books.

He was more than tired of explaining to people (his parents, elementary-middle school teachers, counselors) that just because he could read and comprehend something didn't mean he could pull that kind of originality out of his ass for his own classwork.  His sole good grades were in Midnight and Cementoss's classes where he could name-drop what he knew.

When it came to making up his own stories or art?  Forget it.

That's why it came as a surprise to him when Midoriya sat with him in the library and begged for help in putting names to the artworks shown in Midnight's newest assignment.

When he asked why Midoriya didn't go ask Yaoyorozu or Iida, Midoriya told him that he knew Kaminari's grades and interest in class were the best, and that he'd heard Kaminari talk about different pieces of old and contemporary art enough to know of his proficiency. 

It felt...nice.  Having a serious discussion about his interests.  With Midoriya.

Come to think about it, he'd never seen Midoriya be the one to tease or make fun of anyone, always taking what they had to say seriously.  He just honestly never expected to be one of them.

But Midoriya payed extra close attention when he talked about his interest in literature, art, and music, even going so far as to make impromptu notes to file away for later.  Midoriya listened with understanding when he said he couldn't grasp his own version of creative writing or art even though he could understand others', not contradicting his explanation between know-how and how-to.

Midoriya made him feel SMART.

Sometimes Kaminari would read his assignments out loud to Midoriya, having been suggested to do so to possibly learn a different way.  He found himself to be an auditory learner mostly, and hearing himself talk gave him more memory strength that short-circuiting sometimes dulled away.  When he was too mentally tired after school, Midoriya would read to him instead, not bothered at all by Kaminari's clinginess to unwind, knowing that Kaminari found comfort in holding onto something when he was anxious. 

He once wondered if his clinginess was TOO obvious or annoying, but Midoriya reciprocating with his own cuddles proved him wrong.  Kaminari loathed his teenage hormones so much when Midoriya cuddled him back, torn between wanting Midoriya to wrap it up and leave so he could take care of his arousal on his own, and having Midoriya help him do something about it.

Thankfully, the latter became the solution after Midoriya gave him a kiss on the cheek as a well-done for finishing his essay, and Kaminari's treacherous mouth made a blow-job well-done joke before he could properly think about it, and Midoriya just shrugged with a 'sure, but the rest of the homework first'. 

And THEN made good on the promise. 

His own wattage made his brain short-circuit, but nowhere NEAR as effectively as Midoriya's mouth could.

Hellova time to discover he was a screamer.

It became their routine then; a kiss for assignments, hella good blowjobs for finishing homework on time, and then Kaminari got his world rocked when he got all As and Bs on his midterm grades.

That night, Kaminari felt like the smartest -and luckiest- guy in the world.

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Kirishima was, in one word, a bro.

Much like his definition of 'chivalry', he had his own definition of 'bro'; someone who is the best friend to anyone in need of one.  

So he was all of 1-A and some of 1-B's bro, but he had to say he was the best bro to who needed it most: Bakugo.  Bakugo was someone who just NEEDED a secondary support, whether he liked it or not, and Kirishima dedicated himself to being the best bro he could to Bakugo.  His efforts paid off in spades, getting his Bakubro to open up more and be receptive to the friendship offered.

Kirishima was then introduced to the complicated tragedy that was Bakugo and Midoriya's relationship.  

Midoriya was also his definition of a bro; the boy was so ready and willing to extend his hand to anyone who looked like they could use a friend, which made Kirishima somewhat confused as to how a friendship with Bakugo could just not go anywhere.  After hearing all he could from Bakugo, he came to the conclusion that there was simply too much history for there to be much in the way of progress.  Friendship -the kind Kirishima wanted and valued- was out of the question, though rivalry took a close second behind.

Bakugo seemed perfectly fine with that.

Midoriya didn't.

Kirishima never adhered to picking one friend over the other, so he didn't let Bakugo influence his decision to get to know Midoriya better.

He enjoyed their bro-talk, a love of friendship being their favorite topic.  Like Kirishima, Midoriya didn't have much in the way of friends either growing up.  He figured it had to be tough, with everyone thinking he was quirkless all the time.  Not that Kirishima would have cared, and he told Midoriya just as much.  He also told Midoriya about how he didn't like himself much and did a massive workout on his image before attending UA, going so far as to show Midoriya pictures of himself when he had lanky black hair.

Midoriya said he looked pretty neat then, but respected and admired Kirishima for choosing something that made him feel at his best, lamenting somewhat about wishing to do the same thing.  Kirishima heard him say things about his plain face, messy hair, babyish freckles, and couldn't really see what Midoriya was trying to say.

He was ANYTHING but plain, his hair had soft pretty curls, and his freckles were cute, not babyish.  It all paired with his bright emerald eyes that could put any emotion on display miles away.  Kirishima had been stricken dumb at the sweetness, fearful at the literal sparks of anger, and driven to tears from sadness, all from just looking at Midoriya's eyes. 

Yeah, his eyes were his favorite part of Midoriya.  He even managed to tell him that out loud without meaning to, inciting bright red blushing from them both before Kirishima felt compelled to go in for the pound with his penny.

It was no surprise with Kirishima's teeth that he was a biter, Midoriya thought.  Each of the nips were soft and just sharp enough to feel rather than chomping down in earnest, though Midoriya didn't mind either way.  Kirishima kissed and nipped over every inch of Midoriya's body, taking special care around the scarred areas a though intending to not let Midoriya come under any further pain again.

Kirishima was a bit surprised that it took minimal convincing for Midoriya to take the lead, having known for some time how much Midoriya liked bottoming, but it wasn't too surprising.  Midoriya liked to take care of anyone who asked for it, and with gusto.  Kirishima wanted praise, Midoriya gave praise.  Kirishima wanted encouragement, Midoriya encouraged him.  Kirishima wanted it a little rougher...well, Midoriya couldn't bench Koda for nothing, apparently.

Even after everything, Midoriya still asked for nothing in return, though Kirishima would be damned if he didn't provide all the cuddles and bro talk the other boy could want.  He loved his bro's heart above all else, and he'd be the shield to protect it with all his might, no matter what.

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Koda grew up feeling like a background character in the game of life, and for the most part, it was how he liked it.

School had always been hard for him.  He was always the biggest kid in class, despite being the youngest, and even then he was shy.  The other kids would pick on him for his size, his looks, his quietness, until he finally stopped talking and participating altogether.  He supposed it was serendipitous, because by himself, in the company of animals that couldn't make fun of him, he discovered his quirk.

Animals were better than people, was his thought growing up to a certain age, before seeing the other kids in school forming friendships, going to parties, or out to have fun.  As much as he loved animals, they weren't much for the way of conversation.  He couldn't talk to animals with his quirk, only command them; but even so with his isolation with them, he learned the cues of different species in order to be around them in a calming environment.  Koda found himself peering on at groups of other children, wanting so much to join them, but by that time, damage was done.

He was the big dumb brutish animal freak.  Everyone said so.  And he didn't feel the need or the courage to correct them.

The idea of being a hero came to him after watching video footage of a European hero with an animal-speaking quirk make a rescue during an earthquake, and he felt that in some way, HE could be a hero like that too.  He would love to rescue people and animals alike someday anyway, so why not make a fine career out of it?  

And so he came to UA, intending on focusing on his studies and not letting the repeat of failed student interaction start again.

Instead, within so short a time, he found himself with more friends than he knew what to do with.

No one made fun of him.  No one was exasperated that he preferred sign language over speaking -a lot of students even knew sign language!  And what was more, they always included him in their projects or training or fun outings.  

Midoriya was no exception.  

The other boy had a sort of serene understanding with him that it took a long time to figure out.  Koda learned -sometimes from other sources- that Midoriya had grown up much like he did; the outcast kid no one really wanted to talk to or be around, someone who wanted friends but often preferred solitude of his own making to being hurt.

It confused Koda, and even made him feel a twinge of anger.  How could anyone hurt someone as kind as Midoriya, a boy who could shatter solid rock with a flick of his fingers, but also gently scooped a spider away from Koda's fearful view and ushered it away back into the wild.  Someone who could have a silent conversation with Koda with complete understanding, and have a nature gentle enough for wild animals to trust.  

Midoriya was just way too easy to love, he thought.  To Koda, love was kind, gentle, open, and trusting, everything that he felt Midoriya embodied perfectly.  Everyone loved Midoriya.

Except Bakugo, but even Koda knew rabid animals had their limits.

Koda began expanding his verbal skills a bit further, taking on Midoriya's mumbling habit as a starter in getting full sentences out when not commanding animals.  Luckily for him, Midoriya was fluent in mumble, and was more than happy to translate for those who weren't, and when they were alone, he would mumble himself as a means of equal communication.  Koda appreciated it, and reciprocated by brushing Midoriya up on the other's limited knowledge of sign language.  

He was a fast learner, and his fingers would fly as fast as his mumbling after he got the hang of it.  And this time, Koda was the one translating.

Koda loved the lazy afternoons with no classes or training or homework, content to sit back against a tree with Midoriya in his lap, watching the boy chat on with him with a bilingual mix of mumble and sign language as they relaxed together among the animals who enjoyed their company as much as they did them.  Koda couldn't help but feel so content during those times, feeling happy to understand and be understood by someone so gentle and patient as Midoriya was.

Chapter Text

Sato inherited a lot of things from his mother.

She got stronger based on the level of salt in her system, and his quirk was an alteration of hers.  A combo-dish of theirs to taste was a salted-caramel cake, after which they were evenly matched when it came to arm-wrestling at the dinner table.  He supposed that's why his father put down the rule of their family meals being sodium and sugar-free, the spoilsport.

But the thing he found he inherited most from her was the desire to feed people.

Not just a champion in a women's wrestling league, Sato's mother was a champion in the kitchen, always cooking above and beyond the amount for a normal family of three.  It made the Satos very popular in their neighborhood, always gifting their neighbors with delicious dishes and being a most welcome addition to dinner parties. 

Sato began helping his mother in the kitchen as soon as he was tall enough to reach the counter, and quickly learned all he could from her.  It came in handy once his quirk developed, as buying sweets all the time got expensive, and raw sugar left an unpleasant grit in his mouth.  His mother told him anything he made himself would be twice as delicious and ten times as filling, for both the body and the soul.

Plenty of practice went into making his dishes, and he was sure his father was extremely grateful for his quirk being an abnormally fast metabolism.  A shame Sato's own quirk lasted for three minutes, thanks to that.  But even his failures were eaten, and with gusto.

Other than his family and a few neighbors, Sato didn't really cook for anyone except for himself, until he went to UA.  Immediately, he was hailed as a confectionery king, even winning the dorm room contest (despite his own vote for Sero).  After the fact, hardly a day went by that someone didn't pop by his room and ask if he had a little something for them to nibble on.

During this time, he found everyone's favorites.

Tokoyami adored his apple fitters.

Jiro asked him to marry her for his chocolate lava cake.

Even Bakugo would come by with an empty mug and nicely demand Sato's chili hot chocolate for late-night study sessions, proclaiming none of the other losers knew how to make it right.

A good sweet could fix any problem.  It was proven so.

Even so, he still had to work hard to make it right for everyone.

Enter Midoriya, as his de facto taste tester. 

Nothing was too sweet, too spicy, or too salty for Midoriya to handle.  He gave perfect critique and suggestion on everything, more than happy to lend his universal taste buds to the dishes.  When Sato made a joke about Midoriya watching his figure from all that taste-testing, Midoriya dropped the bomb that he had to work out every single day -except for his hospital rest days- in order to maintain his body to make his Super-Power quirk easier to use, and was almost always hungry anyway.

It was a little concerning to Sato; he and his father had to eat quite a bit in order for their bodies to not burn all the fat due to their quick metabolisms.  While he was powered by sugar, Sato had to eat quite a lot of carbs and protein in order to have a strong base level to work from, as well as keep a healthy fat content.  Looking at Midoriya, the boy had no fat on him at all except for his baby face, and despite a good muscle form, was on the skinny side.

Sato made it his mission then to keep Midoriya well fed.

Midoriya took it well in stride, not even finding it embarrassing to be hand-fed by Sato during a study session, or hanging out down in the common area for movie night.  On the contrary, being fed small squares of fudge in between sweet kisses seemed to be his favorite form of foreplay, and one of Sato's too. 

Heavy workouts combined with an always-full stomach did wonders for Midoriya's figure too, even to the point of finally fitting into his school uniform without having to go up a size.

Even still, Midoriya was a permanent fixture in his kitchen, standing by waiting for a taste test or a kiss. 

Whichever came first.


Chapter Text

Shoji could probably count on one -original- hand the number of things he brought with him to the dorms when he moved in.

He never liked having a lot of things.  Even at home, his room had the bare minimum with little to really call 'his'.  His parents weren't hoarders by a long shot, but they did enjoy their trinkets.  Little things that had meaning to them, or held a good memory.  A decorative carved jewelry box from their honeymoon trip to Okinakwa, a huge gaudy mirror from when he was just a baby and they were furniture-shopping and saw a mirror big enough to fit all of them in the reflection.  All good things, good memories.

Shoji sometimes wondered if that's why his room was so bare.

He was born with his two armlike tentacles, and was four and at preschool when he first formed an eyeball at the end of one, frightening the student-teacher on shift.  And when an adult is frightened of something, children follow suit.  

Even after other kids got their quirks, some just as strange-looking as his own, he was still the freak.

It only got worse as he grew older.  Grew taller.  His quirk manifesting more, and even to the point where he frightened others just on sight.  He sat in the back of classrooms, his height becoming a burden to the smaller students.  He sat out gym competitions, since his mutation had him outclassing everyone else to the point where there was no actual standard to go by.  It came to a head in middle school after he was humiliated at lunch for how inhumanly large his mouth was, and he began wearing a face mask to hide it.

Hiding the rest of himself became nearly impossible, though.  By the end of middle school, he towered over most of his teachers at 6'2, he was broad from his personal training to get into UA, and his arms were impossible to hide.  He made due, intending on being the best hero he could possibly be.  

He never did have many possessions, but he ended up with so many, many friends.

Friends who didn't care how he looked, and saw him as a valued member of their class.

Friends who lovingly called him the 'baby of 1-A' for being the youngest and jokingly took turns 'shielding' him from the terror that was Neito Monoma when the 1-B boy was on a rant.  It was embarrassing and fun, and he loved it when it happened.

It was especially fun the time it was Midoriya's turn, and the boy proceeded to pick him up bridal style and run away with him, making them both laugh until Midoriya almost tripped over himself with mirth.  It would've been an awkward fall, considering the near foot-and-a-half Shoji had on him, but Midoriya's hold was strong.  Midoriya made him -the tallest, physically-base-strongest kid in the class- feel safe.

If there was one thing guaranteed to make Midoriya put the fear of ancient gods into someone, it was the word 'freak'.  

Shoji learned at some point that Midoriya's quirk didn't manifest until the day of the entrance exam, when he saved Uraraka from the 0-point robot, something about his body not being 'ready' for it until almost a year of intense training.  He'd grown up his whole life quirkless.

Bakugo's reaction at the quirk comprehension test on the first day of school only offered more credibility to that statement, as did Midoriya stumbling around with his quirk for the few few months like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time.  Shoji was sure sometimes, Midoriya FORGOT he had a quirk in the first place until it began acting up.

Shoji might have been the 'freak' at his school, but he remembered a graduating ninth-grader in his school who was quirkless.  He heard horrible murmurings about the guy since he was the son of a local hero, and the next year Shoji went to school, there was a memorial assembly for the boy, who had jumped from a bridge and drowned.  He'd been a nice kid.  Very quiet, but it was announced he'd been accepted into a technical high school.

The idea that Midoriya had gone through ANYTHING like that was something Shoji didn't want to believe, but the way Midoriya reacted to anyone being the victim of bullying (except for being picked on himself) was very telling.

A third-year visibly recoiled from him when he picked up book she'd dropped to give them back, and the familiar look of distaste made itself known.  The murmured 'freak' in her leaving seemed to summon Midoriya from the depths of the fifth circle of hell with the normally genial boy ready to throw down, coming after the snobby clique and their mothers before Shoji scooped him up and hurried off with him before a brawl started in the hallway.

Despite being used to it, and definitely being able to defend himself, Shoji felt a warm well of comfort in his heart.  He spent a good amount of time holding Midoriya as rage simmered down into the general default crying, and when THAT was over, he rewarded his little hero with a masked kiss on the cheek.

Figures Midoriya would ask for a bigger reward, and proceeded to tug Shoji's mask down for a proper kiss, not bothered at all by a jaw-to-jaw mouth and sharper teeth.

He was pretty sure the seven-inch tongue wasn't something Midoriya minded, either.

And later on, Shoji didn't mind his room becoming a bit more personalized with his happy memories.  

A constellation fleece blanket from Uraraka.

A signed poster of Fourth Kind from Kirishima.

A cute octopus plushie from Hagakure.

A nice succulent garden for his balcony from Todoriki.

And Midoriya himself as frequent cuddle toy to his bed.

Chapter Text

Despite her general lack of enthusiasm for most things not of immediate importance, Jiro loved and appreciated surprises.

So it was a surprise to her that she found herself bonding with Midoriya over music when the boy hadn't shown much in the way of interest in it at all.

Come to find, he hadn't spoken up during the culture festival because of intense stage shyness, which was understandable.  After some coaxing and putting on some of his favorite music, she finally got him to sing a little for her.

More surprises to find he could carry a perfect tune in an alto.

And he had perfect pitch.

And after a little bit of coaxing with the instruments in her room, found that he had a brush of talent in playing by ear.

Midoriya laughed off her amazement, citing that his talents weren't all that special, and were much better used for appreciation rather than application.  It would explain his quirk analysis at least, she thought, but didn't mention it being a 'waste' of a talent.

Music was her hobby, one that she felt she had to downplay and hide a lot for fear of being told she too was 'wasting' a talent.  To her, music was something to appreciate rather than make a career of, something she was thankful her parents understood.  So she understood Midoriya, and she was glad to be understood by Midoriya in return.

Midoriya told her that his own niche interests at the time, hero and quirk analysis, had been considered useless pipe dreams before he came to the realization that his 'fanboy knowledge' had become of use in his hero work like hers had.  Her also having perfect pitch enhanced her quirk's ability to listen in and make more-than-accurate audio observations crucial to a recon mission.

He said that before his quirk 'kicked in', he wanted to be a hero above all else, even possibly an actual job in quirk analysis where his niche was.  But like Jiro, a hero was who he was, and what he wanted to be.

It still made their hobbies more enjoyable to share together.

Jiro liked relaxing in her room with Midoriya, listening to him play out simple, quiet tunes on her instruments and hum along, sometimes singing her requests.  A casual thing between them with no need to impress or go all out stressing about an album-worthy hit.  She would take the lead on guitar and urge him to make up simple little songs about their classmates.  'Every hero needs their theme song,' she teased.

He was too embarrassed to make a decent go of it until he showed up to her room and she shyly held out a notebook with 'Hero Themes for the Future #1' sharpied over the cover.

So he wrote the soft ballad of Creati.

The power rock anthem of Red Riot.

The bubblegum pop-step of Invisible-Girl.

When he dramatically recited the lyrics of the death-roar battle cry of King Explosion Murder, Jiro fell off her bed laughing until she couldn't breathe.

Some time later after a bad week of training, almost failing a test, and then having to stay in the dorms from a cold, Midoriya knocked on her door.  When she opened it, she saw him standing back with the guitar she'd lent him for his own casual play.  'He is NOT,' she found herself thinking.

He was.

He played her the song of Earphone Jack, the sound contemporary and the tone neither hard nor soft.  The lyrics spoke of her kindness, her badassery, her strength, and her wisdom.  Of how hardcore yet gentle she was, her beauty and her fierceness.

Jiro swore her wet eyes and runny nose were from the cold, but the video Hagakure took when neither of them were watching would forever immortalize the truth.

Later, she slipped a CD under his door that she had recorded before but was too embarrassed to give to him, hoping that 'Deku's Anthem' meant as much to him as his song did to her.