Iida Tenya X Reader - Blog Posts

Hard Launching

Summary: Iida finds it amusing how much you enjoy posting him on your Instagram Characters/Pairings: Iida x reader, fem!Reader Warning: smau, fem!reader but that's simply due to the pfp i picked, minor mention of the incident with Iida's brother, established relationship, no war becuase I still haven't finished watching past s2 💀 Word Count: ~500 A/N: This is my first time writing anything mha related!! my bad to anyone using a pc or laptop, i fear the layout might not be as aesthetic as i've planned LMAO

It had only been two hours since you posted the sweet photo of Iida and your local stray, and yet for some reason you couldn't help but yearn to post more. An abundance of photos had been compiled in your phone's gallery, so many to the point where your phone had taken upon itself to make a personal folder just for your sweet boyfriend, Tenya Iida. Most were of him resting against your chest, dark hair messily spread across his face as he slept soundly against your warm skin, while others were more serious, such as the professional photos taken of him at sports events. Every single photo held a memory, whether it be enjoyable or embarrassing and you planned to treasure every single one of them.

While you were already pressing the small plus at the bottom of your screen, Iida had found his way towards your spot on the lounge. Your eyes flickered upwards and your face softened into a sweet smile. The relationship you shared had been built upon mutual trust and a genuine bond. You were there for him when his brother was injured, pushing him until he finally opened up. In many ways, that was the beginning of your gentle relationship. You sighed at the thought, something that Iida had picked up on almost instantaneously. He set himself down next to you, arm gently wrapping around your waist to pull you into his warm chest. It had been two years since graduation, and five years since you first started dating. Although he had been rather shy with any displays of affection in the beginning, he was completely comfortable now.

"I saw your post.." He whispered into your ear, the cool frame of his glasses brushing against your cheek as he leaned in to rest his head against your shoulder. Your cheeks flushed, nose scrunching up as you recognised the subtle hint of amusement settled deep beneath his words. "Did you like it?" Your eyes lit up at his small nod against your warm skin, feeling the soft touch of his lips against your cheek.

Iida couldn't stop that gentle smile that spread across his face at your words. He found it silly how desperate you were to finally announce to the world that you were dating through your socials. You'd taken a long break after an incident in highschool, hence why you were only now hard launching your boyfriend across your Instagram feed. He gave a gentle nod and soft hum, his hand squeezing your waist before he finally spoke again.

"I love it.."

•Un caballero en toda la extensión de la palabra.

•Nunca dice groserías enfrente tuyo, en general no acostumbra decir groserías.

•Tal vez no sea el novio más expresivo o la pareja más cariñosa, pero realmente te ama.

•Muy interesado en tus pasatiempos e intereses. Será la primera persona en apoyarte y animarte si en algún momento no te sientes lo suficientemente bueno en tus pasatiempos.

•Él considera que la comunicación es una parte fundamental en la relación, no temas en comunicarle tus necesidades.

•Es una persona muy ordenada, es imposible encontrar desorden o suciedad en su casa.

•Muy sincero, tal vez demasiado.

•Completamente fiel, incluso desde la etapa en la que eran "amigos" se veía su comportamiento leal.

•Tiene una vida algo ocupada, pero siempre intentará hacer tiempo para ti.

Prácticamente es un 10/10.

•Iida Tenya, Genos, Spider-Noir, Silco, Dr. Hannibal Lecter...

⋆˙⟡ Crushing. Tenya Iida x Flirty!Fem!Reader ⟡⋆˙

⋆.˚✮ Valentine’s Day story 6/14 ✮˚.⋆

Warnings; swearing

Masterlist

Enjoy my gorgeous people ✧˖°.

🌸

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Tenya didn’t know what was going on with himself. He was never one for being the best with girls. Sure! He was attractive, but he wasn’t particularly charismatic (at least he didn’t think so) so he didn’t understand why you seemed so interested in him.

The poor boy knew you flirted with others, like Kaminari, Uraraka, Izuku was one of your favorites to tease, and even Bakugou, so why was he so affected by you?

He knew you were just teasing, he knew it was just you being friendly and joking around, but each time you made a comment about his body, or his hair or called him by a pet name, his heart raced faster than he did with his quirk.

Iida had never been too interested in dating in the past, seeing as how it brought a lot of stress and anxiety and sometimes a lot of pain, however, there was something about you.

Maybe it was the smell of weed on your clothes when you came in from smoking with Sero and Kaminari, maybe it was the style of clothing you had, maybe it was your nail polish and the rings on your fingers- but Iida was hooked.

To be fair, you were extremely pretty, so it made sense that the boy would crush on you.

Iida walked into the dorm commons, holding a glass. It was getting late, around 9:30 on a warm Friday night. The class was sitting in a circle, while Kaminari balanced a collective 13 phones on his arms, legs, and even a few on his face, all of them charging.

There was laughter and cheers as another phone was placed on the blonde, going on his forehead, before he sneezed, and the phones went flying off of him.

“What are you doing?” Iida asked with a deadpan, crossing his arms and giving an unimpressed look to the class.

Mina looked up and grinned “oh~! Iida! We were just playing truth or dare! You should play with us!” She encouraged with a wide smile.

Iida knew that truth or dare with his class could get pretty wild, so he opened his mouth to protest “yeah! Cmon Iida, it’ll be fun”

His eyes snapped to where you were sitting, and he felt heat rise to his cheeks. You wanted him to play with your class..

..Damn it. How could he say no to that face?

“F-fine..I suppose I could join this game for a bit..” he mumbled reluctantly.

You and the rest of the class whooped in celebration as he sat in the circle with you all. He was regretting his decision the moment Mina smirked. “So! Y/n! I believe it was your turn! So. Truth or dare?”

You smirked, leaning forward and winking at Mina “dare, lay it on me, mommas”

Mina giggled and hummed before gasping and glancing to Iida with a mischievous glint in her eye, that look making a pit grow in his stomach.

“I dare you to kiss Iida!”

You grinned at the dare. For you, it was simple, for Iida, his world was about to collapse. Him? Kissing Tenya Iida? Himself? Yeah he was sure he was going to pass out. “I-I do not know if th-this is a good idea Y- mph!”

You placed your finger over his lips and laughed “relax. ‘M not gonna kiss you if you don’t want me to, but I think it’ll be fun, Iida” you caressed his cheek after pushing up his glasses for him.

Iida flushed brightly, his eyes widening ever so slightly. Why would you give him the decision?

“I-I…I do not mind I-if you kiss me” he managed to stutter out “it is just for a game after all” he let out a breath and adjusted his glasses.

You smiled gently, running your thumb over his cheek. “That’s what I thought.” You smirked “good boy”

He gasped and blushed, but didn’t get to say anything as you pressed your lips to his.

Iida’s eyes fluttered softly before closing. The kiss was amazing, your lips against his felt amazing.

He was dazed as you pulled back, his eyes slowly fluttering back open, and his cheek bright pink. You smiled and tucked his hair behind his ear “I like your chapstick. You should let me wear it more often”

Iida blushed and looked off to the side, trying to stay cool as you sat back in your spot.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew for sure now, he was crushing on you, and there was nothing he could do about it.

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I love Iida sm, he’s actually so pookie. Feeding the 3 other Iida simps 🙏🏻😩

hi cool person!!! i was wondering if you could do texting iida? like any context, but just make it iida as our bf or friends to lovers or something. thankss

manual override | t. iida

dating tenya iida is like loving a perfectly alphabetized fire drill—structured, intense, and somehow exactly what you needed.

love in the margins | t. iida

a short, slow-burn library romance, ft. one blueberry muffin, exactly zero jokes, and a boy who takes flashcards way too seriously. (4597 words)

you meet tenya iida under circumstances that can only be described as tragically collegiate: a peer-led study group in the furthest, quietest corner of the campus library, surrounded by half-dead fluorescent bulbs and the palpable despair of students on the brink of burnout.

it's the third week of the semester, and you're already floundering.

you hadn't intended to be. in theory, you were going to stay on top of things—read the chapters early, color-code your notes, maybe even start a study group of your own. but somewhere between sleep deprivation, an avalanche of discussion posts, and the mysterious black hole that is the university's online portal, you fell behind. hard.

introduction to public policy has been your academic nemesis from the start. the textbook reads like legal jargon swallowed a thesaurus. the professor talks in dense, circular metaphors. every quiz is a minefield of trick questions and ambiguous phrasing. you are, in every sense of the word, academically drowning.

so when a brightly colored flyer promising a "collaborative review session" caught your eye on the bulletin board outside the lecture hall, you didn't think twice. you showed up. desperate. caffeinated. terminally underprepared.

and now you regret everything.

the room smells like dry-erase markers and nervous sweat. a whiteboard at the front is covered in illegible graphs. someone has already spilled a latte on the floor. the guy leading the group talks fast and loud, his explanations full of buzzwords and gestures but lacking anything remotely useful. you suspect he's just regurgitating the study guide at a slightly faster pace.

the other students seem to agree.

one by one, they start to trickle out. a girl leaves with the excuse of "office hours." a guy mutters something about dinner. another just quietly packs up and disappears, not even bothering with a pretense.

by the end of the hour, only two people remain: you, clinging to a futile hope of salvaging your gpa... and him.

he sits across from you with the kind of posture that makes your back ache just looking at him. tall, composed, and absurdly polished—like someone who writes essays three days early and carries a spare pen in case someone forgets theirs. his navy-blue sweater is wrinkle-free. his glasses catch the dim library light. his notes are not just color-coded—they're thematically organized, annotated with footnotes and marginalia in tiny, immaculate handwriting.

he hasn't spoken once. he hasn't needed to.

he radiates competence like it's a moral obligation.

"you're still here?" you ask, more surprise than judgment.

the boy looks up, blinking as if surfacing from a well of deep concentration. he adjusts his glasses with a practiced motion.

"yes," he says, voice clipped and oddly formal. "you are as well."

you arch an eyebrow. "no offense, but... are you actually getting something out of this?"

his expression doesn't change, but he tilts his head slightly—almost like he's assessing you.

"of course," he replies. "engaging in structured group review enhances cognitive retention and contextual understanding. it's an effective method for consolidating knowledge prior to a high-stakes assessment."

you blink. "so... yes?"

he doesn't hesitate. "yes."

you snort—audibly. it escapes before you can stop it. and to your surprise, a faint smile flickers across his mouth.

"i'm tenya iida," he says, extending a hand across the table with the kind of precision reserved for formal introductions at university mixers.

you stare at his hand for a moment, then take it. his grip is warm. steady. confident in a way that makes you sit up a little straighter.

"y/n," you say.

his smile grows just slightly. "it's a pleasure to meet you, y/n."

he releases your hand and immediately pulls out a second set of flashcards from his folder. of course he has a second set.

"would you like to quiz each other?" he asks, dead serious. "alternating questions could be a mutually beneficial method of review."

you stare at him.

he stares back.

something about him—the earnestness, the posture, the complete and utter lack of sarcasm—disarms you. it's like he's the living embodiment of academic sincerity. you're not sure whether to laugh or agree.

you do both.

"...sure."

you don't know it yet, but that's the beginning.

⋆˚✿˖°

you don't plan on seeing him again.

it's not personal. it's just that study groups are the social equivalent of jury duty—temporary, miserable, and best forgotten. you assume tenya iida is one of those hyper-dedicated overachievers who only exist within the academic ecosystem. he probably recedes into a cloud of flashcards and moral fiber as soon as the library closes.

you are, however, proven categorically wrong the following wednesday at exactly 8:03 a.m.

you enter the campus café half-awake, mildly hostile, and fully dependent on the idea of caffeine as a substitute for sleep. the plan is simple: grab something with enough espresso to make your eye twitch, stare blankly at your phone for fifteen minutes, and pretend the crushing weight of institutional learning isn't slowly hollowing you out from the inside.

but fate—or perhaps syllabus-based divine intervention—has other plans.

because when you step inside, there he is.

same posture. same glasses. same stupidly crisp button-down like it didn't just come out of someone's laundry but graduated magna cum laude from it. he's seated at a table by the window, surrounded by highlighters arranged like soldiers, reading the textbook that has been your personal tormentor since week one.

and next to his coffee?

a single blueberry muffin.

you hesitate, caught in that weird space where it's too late to pretend you didn't see him, but also too awkward to walk past without acknowledging him.

before you can make a decision, he looks up—and smiles.

not just a polite, "ah yes, i recognize you" smile.

a real smile. brief, but sincere. like he's actually glad you're here.

he waves you over.

you hate how quickly your legs respond.

"didn't expect to see you here," you say as you slide into the seat across from him, instantly aware of how tired you look in comparison to his perfectly combed hair and terrifying punctuality.

"i study here most mornings," he replies. "the ambient noise level is consistent, and the natural lighting is optimal for focus."

you blink. "that is... alarmingly specific."

he inclines his head. "i find that consistency breeds productivity."

you want to tease him, but the truth is, it's kind of admirable. alarming. but admirable.

he gestures to the pastry between you.

"would you like half?" he asks. "it's fresh. and i believe we have, at this point, established a cordial enough rapport to justify the sharing of breakfast items."

you stare at him.

"do you always offer muffins to people you've only studied with once?"

he doesn't even flinch. "only when they look tired enough to deserve one."

your mouth twitches.

"you've been saving that line, haven't you."

he looks mildly offended. "no. though i could annotate it in my planner if you'd like."

you laugh—genuinely this time—and accept the muffin. it's warm, sweet, and annoyingly perfect. just like him.

you don't pull out your flashcards. not immediately. you sit there in companionable silence, splitting the muffin and sipping your drinks like it's something you've always done. like this is normal.

you tell yourself this isn't a date. obviously.

it's too early in the day for romance. you're both clutching textbooks like weapons. he hasn't even made a single joke. (you're not sure he knows how.)

and yet—

when he leans in to show you a section he highlighted—carefully annotated with footnotes and marginal notes that are somehow neater than your typed essays—your shoulders brush. you don't pull away.

he doesn't, either.

later, you realize that you don't even remember what chapter you reviewed.

but you remember the sound of his voice as he quietly explained it. the way he passed you the last bite of muffin without saying anything. the way his fingers curled ever so slightly when he set his pen down between you.

you remember thinking, with a strange flutter in your chest: this could be something.

not yet.

but maybe.

⋆˚✿˖°

you tell yourself this is still just about school.

you repeat it like a mantra as you meet him at the library every tuesday and thursday without fail, settling into your now-permanent seats by the windows like assigned partners in some ongoing group project that no one else remembers being assigned to. his bag always lands on the table first, followed by a reusable water bottle the size of your emotional baggage. he brings extra highlighters now—plural—and starts leaving a green one near your elbow like he’s not even thinking about it.

you, in turn, stop pretending to study anywhere else.

because the truth is, you don’t concentrate better when he’s around—not even a little. he’s distracting in the worst possible way: tall and tidy and terminally composed, with a voice like a podcast host and a smile that you pretend not to notice every time he glances over at you with something like pride in his eyes.

and the worst part?

it’s working.

your grades are going up. you understand policy terminology now. you caught yourself referencing a case study unprompted in another class, and the look your professor gave you made it feel like you’d just been knighted.

you’d thank him for it—sincerely—if he didn’t look so smug every time you nailed a quiz.

“you’ve clearly been applying yourself,” he says one evening, looking over your annotated notes like they’re some kind of sacred text.

“i’ve been applying your study methods,” you reply, then instantly regret it, because the smile he gives you in return is devastating.

and that would be fine—annoying, but fine—if it weren’t for the fact that he’s started sitting closer.

not drastically. not inappropriately. just... close.

close enough that when you both lean in to look at something on the same page, your shoulders brush. your knees knock. his hand lingers near yours when he passes you a pen, and he doesn’t move away quickly. sometimes—and this is particularly evil—his thigh rests against yours under the table for minutes at a time, and you’re too proud (and too panicked) to say anything.

you’re not flirting. not really.

you’re both too stubborn for that.

but something is happening. you just don’t know what to call it.

one thursday afternoon, the sky is gray and heavy with the threat of rain. the windows in the library fog up slightly, making the whole room feel smaller, softer, somehow more intimate. your shoes are damp. your brain is fried. you’re barely holding onto your focus.

but he’s already there, sitting at your usual table with a mug from the downstairs café and a folder labeled “legislation review: week 5.” there’s a muffin. of course there’s a muffin.

he looks up as you approach. smiles. “you’re early.”

you blink. “so are you.”

he shrugs. “anticipation is efficient.”

“what does that even mean?”

he hesitates, like he’s genuinely considering it. “it means i enjoy this.”

your heart does something stupid.

you take your seat before your face can give you away.

thirty minutes in, your brain stops processing information entirely.

you’re trying to focus. really, you are. but his leg is pressed against yours and you swear it’s getting closer every time he shifts. it’s not even the contact itself that’s distracting—it’s the fact that he doesn’t seem to notice. like it’s just normal. like this is how he always studies with people.

(does he?)

(no. he can’t.)

“y/n?” he says, and you jolt like you’ve been electrocuted.

“hm?”

“i asked if you’d like to walk through the case brief again. you seem... distant.”

you clear your throat and try not to sound like someone whose brain has just been wiped by a thigh. “yeah, no, i’m fine. just tired.”

he nods solemnly. “understandable. your coursework has been particularly intensive.”

he says it like he knows your schedule better than you do—which he might. you’ve seen his planner. you’re pretty sure he’s memorized the entire academic calendar, national holidays included.

you try to return to your notes.

you fail.

eventually, you lean back in your chair and exhale.

“okay,” you say. “i need to ask you something.”

he looks up, immediately attentive. “yes?”

you glance around—no one’s within earshot— and lean in slightly.

“this thing we do.”

he blinks. “studying?”

“no. i mean yes, but no.” you gesture vaguely between the two of you. “this. the muffins. the flashcards. the... sitting so close i can smell your laundry detergent.”

he goes still.

“i’m just trying to understand if we’re, like...” you hesitate. “is this just a really intense academic friendship or are we... flirting?”

he doesn’t speak for a long moment.

then, carefully: “i hadn’t realized my proximity was making you uncomfortable.”

“it’s not!” you say, too quickly. “it’s just... confusing.”

“confusing how?”

you fidget with the cap of your pen. “because we do things that feel... date-adjacent. and i don’t know if that’s just how you are with people or if i’m—” you stop yourself before you can say not imagining it.

his brows draw together, faintly perplexed. “i apologize. i didn’t mean to cause confusion.”

you blink. “so you are flirting?”

his ears go pink. just slightly. “i wouldn’t define it as flirting. but i do enjoy spending time with you.”

you squint at him. “that’s not a no.”

he hesitates. then, quieter: “it’s not.”

oh.

you stare at him. he stares back.

and then—like the universe can’t stand unresolved tension—your knees bump again.

but this time, he doesn’t shift away.

and neither do you.

⋆˚✿˖°

you don’t call it a date.

not out loud.

not even in your head, really—not technically. because you’re not dating. you haven’t kissed. there’s been no confession. there’s been no moment of clarity where either of you has stood dramatically in the rain and said i think about you all the time, which, honestly, is a bit disappointing.

but you still change your outfit three times before meeting him for coffee on saturday.

you still hesitate in front of the mirror, adjusting your sleeves and second-guessing your hair, muttering get a grip under your breath like it’s a prayer.

you still pause at the door to the café, one hand on the handle, and remind yourself—again—that this isn’t a date.

you’re just meeting up. casually. like friends.

friends who sometimes sit with their knees touching under library tables. friends who share muffins and steal glances and somehow always find reasons to linger a little too long in doorways.

friends who, if they weren’t so emotionally constipated, might’ve figured this out already.

but you push the door open anyway, and the little bell overhead chimes bright and familiar.

he’s already there.

of course he is.

tenya iida is punctual to the point of pathology. if you told him to meet you in the afterlife at 3:00 p.m. sharp, he’d be there early, holding a clipboard and a fully prepared powerpoint.

he’s sitting near the window, back straight, hands folded politely in his lap. his hair is a little messy from the wind outside. his sweater is navy—clean, simple, a little oversized in a way that makes you stare longer than you should.

he sees you and stands immediately, which is both adorable and completely unnecessary.

“you’re early,” he says, voice warm.

“so are you.”

he doesn’t reply, but the smile he gives you is soft around the edges.

you order something with too much caffeine and not enough nutritional value. he offers to pay, like he always does. you decline, like you always do. it’s a silent tradition now, a ritual of stubbornness. he lets it go with a quiet nod, but not without giving you that look—the one that says i was raised right and this physically pains me.

you find a booth in the corner, a little more secluded than the rest. the sun spills in through the window in soft golden streaks, and for a moment, it feels like you’re somewhere outside of time.

“i’ve never seen you wear that color,” he says as you sit down.

you glance at your shirt. “yeah? too much?”

he shakes his head immediately. “no. it suits you.”

your mouth goes a little dry.

you recover quickly, leaning back and sipping your drink like it doesn’t mean anything. like the warmth crawling up your neck is from the coffee and not the compliment.

“so,” you say, clearing your throat. “what’s on the agenda for today? rigorous academic analysis? philosophical debates about economic ethics? impromptu pop quizzes?”

he tilts his head. “i thought we might take the day off.”

you blink. “from... studying?”

“from everything.” he shrugs, a little sheepishly. “i realized we’ve never spent time together without a textbook between us.”

your heart does something strange.

“you mean like... just hang out?”

“yes.”

“like friends.”

he hesitates. just barely. “yes. like friends.”

the words hang in the air between you—awkward, uncertain, but not unkind.

you nod, slowly. “okay. yeah. we can do that.”

and you do.

you talk. not about school, not about deadlines or group projects or the upcoming midterm. you talk about dumb childhood stories and weird food preferences and the fact that he once tried to start a recycling initiative in his middle school and was very upset when no one followed the sorting chart correctly.

you tell him about your obsession with terrible reality TV. he listens with the seriousness of a man taking notes for a thesis.

he tells you about his older brother, and how much he looks up to him. you tell him about the stray cat that used to follow you home in high school, even though you never fed it.

he laughs—really laughs—when you tell him about the time you broke your nose in gym class trying to dodge a volleyball and ran straight into a bleacher.

“i’m sorry,” he says between gasps. “i don’t mean to laugh at your pain.”

“no, you do,” you say, grinning. “and it’s okay. i would too.”

at one point, your knees bump under the table again. this time, neither of you pulls away.

it’s later than you mean it to be when you finally leave the café. the sun is dipping low, the sky tinged with lavender and orange. the street is quiet, and the wind bites just enough to make you zip your jacket up.

you walk together. not toward the library, not toward another class—just aimlessly. like people who have nowhere else to be.

it’s peaceful.

and weirdly... intimate.

you’re not talking. not really. the silence between you is comfortable now, lived-in. every so often your hands brush, and you wonder—wildly, stupidly —what would happen if you just reached out.

but you don’t.

because this isn’t a date.

it’s not.

except maybe... it is.

“this was nice,” you say, when you finally reach the crosswalk where you’ll part ways.

he nods. “i enjoyed it.”

there’s a beat of silence.

“we should do it again,” you say. casually. like it doesn’t mean anything.

but he looks at you like it does.

“i’d like that,” he says. and then—“you’re very easy to be around.”

your breath catches.

you want to say something. you’re easy to be around too. i think about you when we’re not together. i don’t know if i’m imagining this but i hope i’m not.

instead, you say, “you’re weirdly charming, you know that?”

he blinks. “i—thank you?”

you grin. “it’s a compliment. mostly.”

he laughs. soft. pleased. “i’ll take it.”

he takes a small step back, like he’s about to leave —but then pauses.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“if this had been a date...” he clears his throat. “would that have been... agreeable to you?”

you stare at him.

then, slowly—carefully—you nod.

“yeah,” you say. “i think it would’ve been.”

he smiles. it’s small. tentative. but it lights up his whole face.

“then maybe next time, we won’t pretend.”

you feel like you’re floating.

“deal.”

he nods once. then, with a strange, lingering sort of hesitation—like he’s not ready to go yet—he turns to leave.

you watch him go.

and for the first time in a long time, you feel... hopeful.

⋆˚✿˖°

you don't know what you're expecting.

when he texts you the next morning—same time tuesday? not for studying this time. if you're free.—you stare at it for a good ten minutes before responding. not because you’re unsure of your answer (you’re not), but because the implication hits like a freight train.

not for studying.

not as friends.

just you. just him. again.

this time, it’s a little different.

this time, he’s calling it what it is.

you don’t overthink your reply (for once). you just type yeah. i’m free and throw your phone face-down before your heart can beat out of your chest.

and when tuesday rolls around, you are twenty minutes early.

you tell yourself it’s because the weather’s nice and the walk was shorter than usual and you didn’t want to cut it close. but the truth is, you’ve been ready since noon.

you’re wearing the sweater he said he liked once, months ago, after a study session where he handed you a highlighter and your fingers brushed and you both paused like the world might end. it’s not even your warmest or your nicest sweater. it’s just... the one he looked at a little too long.

you don’t want to admit what that means.

you sit in your usual seat by the window. a small table, worn edges. your coffee in hand. no textbooks. no flashcards. just the sound of the café around you and the low simmer of anticipation in your chest.

he walks in three minutes early, which is basically scandalous by iida standards.

you glance up, and the second your eyes meet, he smiles.

it’s not his usual polite, committee-appropriate smile.

it’s something else.

something softer.

he sits down across from you like he’s been doing it his whole life.

you stare at him for a second too long.

“you’re early,” he says, like it’s a fact worth noting. his voice is gentler than usual.

“so are you.”

“a rare occurrence.”

“should i be concerned?”

he laughs—quietly, warmly. “i thought you might say that.”

you both go quiet.

not awkward quiet. just... full.

full of everything you’re not saying.

you sip your drink and hope your heart doesn’t explode.

twenty minutes in, you realize you’ve forgotten what time it is.

again.

you’re talking about something stupid—a professor you both silently hate but never speak ill of in class—and he’s mimicking their voice in a whisper, hand shielding his mouth, and you’re laughing.

like genuinely, honestly laughing.

like you don’t have a hundred things weighing you down.

he always does that. makes everything feel easier. lighter.

it’s dangerous, how much you like it.

how much you like him.

you haven’t said it. not out loud. not even to yourself.

but the truth is: you’re in trouble.

deep trouble.

because tenya iida has the power to wreck you in a way no one else ever has.

not because he’s dramatic. not because he’s charming (though he is, in that annoying, understated, golden-retriever-with-a-perfect-credit-score kind of way).

but because he’s steady.

because he means things.

because when he looks at you, it’s like you’re someone worth understanding.

and you’ve never been loved gently before.

not like this.

you walk out together.

neither of you mentions how long you stayed. it’s dark out, but neither of you cares.

you walk close, side by side. your hands brush once, then again. his fingers twitch toward yours, and you pretend not to notice—not because you don’t want it, but because you’re not sure what happens if you reach back.

you talk about nothing. and everything.

he tells you about the time his older brother accidentally dyed his hair blue with a shampoo prank and how no one in their house was allowed to mention it for an entire year.

you tell him about the time you accidentally set off a fire alarm trying to microwave leftover curry in a dorm that very explicitly prohibited strong-smelling food.

“you’re a menace,” he says, laughing.

you bump your shoulder into his. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

he glances at you. “i didn’t say that.”

you both stop at the crosswalk—the same one where you stood days ago.

the same one where he asked if this had been a date...

you’re not pretending anymore.

and yet.

you don’t know what to say.

you just look at him, the wind brushing through your sleeves, your fingers cold where they’re shoved into your pockets.

he looks at you.

longer than before.

long enough that your heart stumbles.

and then—quietly—he says, “can i ask you something?”

you nod. “of course.”

his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it. careful.

“why me?”

you blink. “what?”

“why... this?” he gestures gently between you. “i know i’m not the most exciting person. i’m not particularly funny or... spontaneous.”

you frown. “iida.”

“i’m just trying to understand,” he says. “why you keep showing up.”

you want to say because i like the way you talk when you’re tired, or because your laugh makes me want to listen to every dumb story you’ve ever told.

you want to say because i’ve never felt so calm next to another person in my entire life.

instead, you say, “because when i’m with you, i don’t feel like i have to be anyone else.”

his expression shifts.

his jaw tightens. his eyes soften.

he takes a step closer.

“i don’t want to mess this up,” he says.

“you’re not.”

“i don’t want to misread it.”

you exhale, a laugh escaping despite yourself. “you’re not.”

his hand lifts, hesitates—then lands gently against your cheek.

you stop breathing.

“may i kiss you?” he asks.

you nod before your brain catches up.

“yeah,” you whisper. “you may.”

and he does.

it’s not rushed.

it’s not fiery or desperate.

it’s patient. reverent. like he’s memorizing the feeling. like he’s been waiting for the right moment and this, finally, is it.

his lips press softly against yours, and your hands lift automatically to his jacket, holding on, grounding yourself.

when you part, he leans his forehead against yours.

you’re both quiet for a moment.

then he says, “i’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

you smile. “i could tell.”

“was i too obvious?”

“painfully.”

he laughs, arms sliding around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“this is still new,” he says. “i know that.”

you nod.

“but i’m willing to take it slow.”

“okay.”

“i’ll be patient.”

“okay.”

he pauses. “and i’d like to take you to dinner. an actual dinner. with reservations and menus and probably overpriced appetizers.”

you grin. “are you asking me on a real date?”

he lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“yes,” he says. “i’m asking.”

“then yes,” you reply. “i’m saying yes.”

you walk home hand-in-hand.

you don’t have to say anything.

it’s not pretending anymore.

and for once—finally—that feels like enough.

👓You were falling behind in a few lessons

🏃‍♂️So of course, like the kind class rep he is, offered to study with you

👓He takes his studies very seriously

🏃‍♂️But it's still nice, just hanging out with him

👓Literally has more books than the school library

🏃‍♂️He likes to play classical music while studying, Mozart is one of his favorites

👓Conversation flows easily between taking notes

🏃‍♂️Of course he has a few Ingenium posters of his brother hanging in his closet

👓A very big collection of glasses, gotta be prepared

🏃‍♂️His notes are so organized, their alphabetized, color-coded, etc.

👓You did get an A+ after the study session though

I love to tell you stories but I can't remember how they end!

Tenya Iida x ADHD! Reader

You've been dating Tenya for a while, but even before that he had noticed the way you struggle to pay attention, stay still, concentrate, study and how you get sudden waves of energy throughout the day, ending tired and even grumpy!

When you opened to him and told him how you have ADHD his mind clicked, understanding most of your actions!

‌Tenya would be so understanding. The moment you tell him about your problems concentrating, the way your brain sends random waves of energy over just to end up tired and how it impacts your everyday life he is quick to learn as much as he can about it, asking people around him if they have similar experiences and how they regulate themselves (Denki is his principal source aside from you).

You take medications?

‌If you take medication, he would made sure to draw you a schedule for them, adding water intake and multiple breaks for you to be properly active throughout the day. He would totally do it in black and white for you to paint it! He heard that it can help you memorize it!

Troubles eating?

‌He would check the food you eat, making sure the levels of sugar are not too high, to evade artificial food, too processed, if they have dangerous food colorings, chemicals, etc. You name it, he already checked! He would only force you to eat things if they're healthy and you are extra picky, disguising them with spices and more!

Chores? Boring!

‌He would treat chores as games! Setting timers to receive stickers and such. He read about it online and does it with Denki too, making chores far more fun to finish and maintaining everything in order.

Studying with Tenya

‌Study dates would be in calm spaces with little to no distractions, fringing fidget toys to keep you stimulated and low sugar snacks to not get distracted my hunger. Small breaks in between assignments are a must and he knows it! Giving you a shoulder pat or a kiss (depending to how private the space is) as a reward for how good you're doing. He's rigid, but who is he to deny a little kiss in return for your intelligence?

Zoomies!

‌Oh no, zoomies time! You suddenly want to dance? Go outside? Run? The beach? The park? He's up for it! Using those moments to help you workout. You want to dance? Aerobics it is. Go outside? Hiking seems perfect to build strength! Run? You know he's up for it. The beach? Some laps on the sand to build resistance! Park? You'll be climbing trees and jumping! He knows how to make everything healthy.

Hobbies? Handcrafting

‌If you suddenly want to do handcrafted things he's willing to test you! Building things out of wood, let's test how you put crafting and building classes to work, you have to measure and cut precisely after all. Building with Legos is a big activity for him! He makes sure to put physics to the test, building giant places with you, bridges, houses, towers and more! This sweet boy gives the healthiest activities always.

Post-zoomies tiredness

‌He knows how tired you get after those moments of full energy and he has ways to help calm down during those, but he won't mind hugging you and cuddling to sleep afterwards, you get so tired! He'll encourage afternoon naps, his investigations led to realize that allowing you 20 minutes of sleep afterwards you wake up renewed so he makes sure you fall asleep and tracks your sleep for any sort of weird movements (he knows how anxious you can get too and is sure to wake you up and comfort you).

‌He'll make sure you have something to eat as soon as you wake up, yogurt with fruits are his go to! But granola bars and cookies or crackers work too if they're low in sugar. He'll have you working after that!

Hiperfixations!

‌You've got hiperfixations? Don't even worry about it, he'll encourage you to explore them safely and make sure that you won't do something bad such as isolate yourself just to indulge in it or spend huge amounts of money, they don't last enough and you always end up thinking "what have I done?" So he scolds you if you suddenly have a wall full with certain hiperfixation that is based in buying things, economical responsibility will be teached to you whether you like it or not.

Meltdowns? Breakdowns?

He understands when you get overwhelmed, there's so much going in your head at the same time that he can't even reprimand you for crying and suddenly getting angry at everyone. He'll try and get you to calm down in his arms, if it's needed he'll give you a calming tea or some light sleeping pills. As soon as your eyes get teary or your voice raises in that particular way, he holds your hand and takes you to a more private space, allowing you to let everything out and wind down, not an ounce of judging. At first it was overwhelming for him to try and calm you down with logic, now he understands that emotions are mostly not logical. He'll whisper sweet words and reassurance while you slowly calm down, he won't even judge you if you subconsciously regress when you're having a meltdown, he knows you seek the comfort of a home when you're crying or angry with the world and your self, caressing your back and calling you his little baby.

He'll bring you something warm to drink, a stuffed animal of your choice or a warm weighted blanket to ground you, he'll drop anything he's doing to comfort you during a breakdown.

Non-verbal or silent treatment?

He understands if you can't talk afterwards or simply don't want to, such strong emotions much leave you so tired that it's hard to communicate. If you go non-verbal he'll find ways to still communicate, even teaching himself and you simple sign language or reading your expressions to keep you comfortable and give you a way to communicate yourself without words.

If you do use silent treatment he'll feel hurt, why would you just ignore him like that? The first few times he'll excuse you but then he'll sit you down and talk about how much your silence hurts him, how you do not even looking at him. Both of you will find ways to bring you out of that state, slowly helping you stop that bad habit.

A/N: This is based off my own experience and my struggles as someone with ADHD, remember that it changes and variates between people! I tried to make these as inclusive as I could and not too based in just me, you're free to add anything in the comments!!

Hi! Natan here ; wanna read more about Tenya Iida? Check out my master list.

꩜ — strictly business, perhaps.

pairings : boss!tenya iida x secretary!reader

warnings : 4.3k words damn (UNRESOLVED TENSIONNN)

➤ masterlist!

Papers rustle by the glass top of the table, along with the sound of typing on the keyboard. Tenya sighed, clattering his glasses onto the table top, he pinched the bridge of his nose. The documents didn’t seem to end, his stomach was rumbling, churning, and his head was spinning. 

“Goodness..” He complained silently, propping his head upon his hand as his hand ran through his hair. 

The silence of the small office was broken briefly by the glass door opening, then closing again. Your form stood there in a bit of awkwardness, sensing the boss’s not-so-pleasant mood. Clutching the clipboard, you cleared your throat softly. 

“Mister Iida, I-It is lunch time already, would you… like for me to order your lunch from the restaurant on the ground floor?” You carefully asked, keeping your tone hushed.

He sighed, nodding before he stood up while straightening his clothes and his tie. “Please do, y/n. Thank you very much.” He replied, his voice husky and hoarse, while his hand perched his glasses back on to his nose. Tenya cleared his throat once more, and he stayed like that for a moment, while you nodded, turning your back to him as you reached for the door once more. 

But then you turned back around again, “Oh!” Your index finger plucking up to the air. “And, would you like your usual orange juice to go with it as well, mister Iida?” 

And finally, his stiffened cheeks frozen from the day’s work twitched up to a smile, a huff escaping his breath. “Yes please, y/n. Thank you very much.”

˚୨୧⋆.˚

The scent of broth and the steam of rice greeted Tenya’s lungs, warmth replacing the dull cold air from the air conditioner. He smiled faintly, tilting his body to the side from his computer, meeting your form teetering on your feet while you carefully ushered the tray in your hands to his table.

“Thank you so much, y/n. Right on time.” He sighed, clearing the space on his table for the tray to be placed down to. 

You smiled softly to him, chuckling softly as you carefully placed down his lunch in front of him. “Perhaps I know my boss too well.” 

That earned a small laugh from him as he picked up the spoon and fork from the side of the tray, the utensils clinking to each other as he unwrapped the napkin wrapping them. The faint smoke danced around the air, before slowly seeping into his nostrils again, and he could only sigh with a smile.

“Perhaps you do.” He replied, smiling warmly at you from above his glasses, which you only replied with a soft chuckle and a sway of your body.

You cleared your throat, pulling yourself back to the ground. “Is there anything I can help more, sir?” 

He shook his head, already dipping his spoon into the clear broth of the soup. “No, no,”

Then he paused. 

“How about you, y/n? Have you eaten?” His head looked up from his lunch, a finger adjusting his glasses again to see you clearly, his brows furrowed a bit in concern. Which you responded with a nod, “Mhm, already have, sir.” 

He nods, “Good, good.” 

“I’ll excuse myself then, sir?” You reassured again, bowing slightly to him.

Tenya grinned, nodding as his hand gestured for you to exit the room. “Yes, thank you again, y/n.”

˚୨୧⋆.˚

For goodness’ sake, can this project finish itself? Were the man’s thoughts as he typed furiously on the keyboard. It seemed like the proposals needed for the project seemed to be endless, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask any help from you. Though that was what his fingers are twitching to do right now. His thumb hovered over the phone button on your contact as he debated his choices.

On one hand, it’s already almost midnight, and you had gone home way long ago. He needs some help, and Tenya swears if he were to type another letter for another corporation to ask them to sponsor this massive charity project, he’s going to blow his office into shreds. On the other hand, it’s Friday. Which means you’re probably having some week-end routine, which he does not dare to interrupt. 

What if you were on a date? Goodness, it will be such impoliteness to disturb your night.

What if… you were trying to have some fun with your friends? Well he wouldn’t want to barge in now, won’t he?

What if you were already asleep?! Oh goodness that would be such a fuss..

Or– or…

“It’s just a call, Tenya.” He huffed, grumbling to himself while his thumb hesitantly pressed the button. 

It took a couple of beeps from the line to finally connect to yours, and a small shuffling sound was heard before your groggy voice hummed in confusion, answering the call. 

“M...Mister Iida?” Was what you managed to croak out, your voice nervous and hazy, a small sigh of sleepiness could be heard from your side of the line. 

Tenya scolded himself mentally, chewing on his lower lip in panic as he stammered a few vowels. “Oh goodness, y/n, I-..I’m… so very sorry…” He softly apologized, sighing in regret. “I didn't mean to wake you… j-just go back to sleep, y/n,”

“I’ll inform you about this in Monday..” 

Your voice could be heard mumbling from the other line, chewing your tongue to wake yourself up. “It’s fine, sir… is there anything you need help with…?”

He shook himself, standing up from his seat as if he were to chide you in person. “No, no.”

“Sleep is essential, y/n. I apologize for disturbing your slumber.”

There was silence for a moment in the call, only faint buzzing from the phone repeating upon his ears as he nervously waited for your answer.

“Mmkay sir, g’night…” 

And with that, the line hung up. So did his arm, hung to his side as he sighed to himself, hitting his forehead with his palm repeatedly in frustration. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid..!” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s almost midnight, of course it’s bedtime!” He huffed, straightening his back, tugging down his shirt to straighten it once more as he sat back down to his seat, creaking it in the process.

He propped himself again, hovering his hands over his keyboard, and for a second–he stayed like that, somehow unsure of what to type to the proposal. 

Ahem. 

He propped himself up again, straightening his back, preparing to type. 

…but your voice kept echoing, taunting him from the back of his head. That soft, sleepy little goodnight replaying again and again in his ear, clear as day.

˚୨୧⋆.˚

You walked into the office as per usual the Monday, the few previous night’s little disturbance slipped way out of your mind. But one thing never did; checking in on your boss to inform him of his schedules today. Except… weird.

The disciplinarian Tenya Iida had never been late before, and even if he were ever late, it was late to his own clock. Yet today seemed to be the latter. Tenya Iida, the infamous early bird, your boss, is not to be found in his office. The glass door is still locked, waiting to be opened by his ID card. And so you walked to your cubicle again, placing down your tablet to the table as you rummaged your pocket of your phone, swiftly swiping to his chat room. 

It took him a good five minutes before his typing animation popped by the side of the screen, three little dots jumping up and down before his message got sent;

Weird. You thought again. 

You had been working for this busy man for too long to know the man doesn’t even need alarms to be able to wake up to his schedule. Even if he did, hadn’t his body already memorized the time he has to get up? 

You shrugged it off, fingers already pressing the numbers to the restaurant to order your boss’s breakfast. 

Precise, as always. Ten minutes later, the familiar blue haired man walked into the office, his glasses sat slightly crooked upon the bridge of his nose as he scattered himself into his office. You chuckled at the sight, standing up to catch up to him in his office. With a small knock on the door, it unlocked from inside.

“Good morning, sir.” You greeted, pushing the door with your back as your hands both carried his breakfast; warm egg toast, and a glass of orange juice. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

Tenya stiffens. The sound of his rustling fabric stopping immediately as you greeted him. “M-morning, y/n,” He replied, his slight voice crack immediately covered with him clearing his throat. “I.. have not..” 

Ahem. “H..how’d you know…?”

You chuckled, setting down the meal to his table, before setting your hands to your sides, “I figured it’s hard to think of breakfast when you are running late, sir.” 

Then he grinned. Not the classic professional grin he had always worn, it was… sheepish, almost shy. Tenya’s voice rumbled lowly as he chuckled. “Thank you, y/n.”

With a smile, and a nod of acknowledgement, you excused yourself to take your tablet. As you walked back in, he was still tying his tie, swiftly folding it around his neck while you opened your tablet to swipe to the calendar app. 

Tenya’s back turns away from you as he comes to face you, giving a hum or two as you explained his schedules for today, while sometimes adding somethings in between like; “Oh, that one is cancelled.” or “I think that one is prolonged, y/n. I forgot to inform you.” And you’d nod, typing swiftly on the keyboard or tapping and swiping to edit the schedule for today. So with your morning routine finished, you excused yourself once more, exiting his office to return to your cubicle. 

And now, Tenya was alone in his office, once more. Your steady and intonated voice is gone, replaced by the constant humming from the air conditioner. He glanced at the breakfast you had left him. With awkwardness, he shuffled his way to the table, sitting down to carefully unwrap the sandwich—as if he was being watched. As he chewed, he scolded himself once more. 

How could he have been so out of discipline? He is the boss! And here he is, being late.

With a huff, he slapped himself on both cheeks. He chugged down the orange juice, setting the plate and the glass aside to switch the computer on. 

And then he remembered one thing. The one thing he tried to ask of you that night. He needed help typing those pesky proposals, his fingers already felt way too numb on the keyboard, and his head couldn’t even think of any more pleasing words for those sponsors. So he did, with many nerves, but he did. His fingers already remembered your cubicle phone’s number, and it beeped by with ease. Your voice answered almost immediately.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, uh… may I ask for some favor from you?” His tone cautious, almost as if he was concerned he had disturbed your peace. 

“Oh, Mister Iida. Of course, sir. What is it?”

He cleared his throat, swaying left and right on his spinning chair. “Could you please… help me in writing some proposals for the upcoming project, y/n…?” 

“Oh! Of course, sir. Would you need me to come to your office?”

Then he stayed silent. Glancing to the small couch by the side of his office as he contemplated the choice. “...Sure, that would be great, thank you y/n.” 

“I’ll be right with you, sir.”

And right with him you were. With a soft knock, the door unlocked from inside, allowing you to enter in once more. You clutched your laptop in your hand, carefully stepping into the quiet, isolated space. 

Tenya smiled, gesturing his hand to the couch. “Have a seat, y/n.”

“...I’m very sorry for asking your help on such a short notice,” 

You chuckled, waving your hand dismissively as you set down the laptop on the couch. “It’s alright, sir. It’s my job.”

With no further ado, he cleared his throat with a grin, explaining to you what he needed you to help with, as you propped up your laptop upon your lap, typing in his requirements and points needed to be included in each proposal. 

The two of you went on with silence as you both got to work. Broken only by the rhythmical tap of yours and his keyboard, and his occasional ahem’s. You would sometimes peek glances at him from the corner of your eyes, and as the day progressed, his tie loosened more and more. You couldn’t help but smile faintly at the sight. 

Him too, did so. Everytime you would unconsciously hum that one tune from a song, or mumble out the words you were typing in, he’d sneak a glance at you, smiling softly to himself before snapping his head back to the computer. Because God forbid you look this cute up close. Wait what?

By the last ‘thank you for taking the time to read this proposal’ you typed onto a document, the sky had gone dark, and so did the outside of his office. The clock shows 08:45 PM. You stretched your hands up, groaning softly as you cracked your head to the sides. With a stifled yawn, you swiped around your touchpad. 

“I’ll send the proposals to you, sir.” You informed him, your voice had lost its professionalism long ago, now you only had your hoarse and croaking speech to offer. 

Tenya’s head shot to the side to look at you. He sighed as he twitched up a grateful smile. “Thank you so much, y/n. I’m very sorry to be keeping you this late.”

Your lips pressed up to form a thin smile, as you slipped your laptop into its sleeve, standing up from the couch, a small dent left upon it from how long you sat there. “No need to apologize, mister Iida. I am only doing my job.” 

As you slung your bag over your shoulder, you bowed to him once more. “I’ll be excusing myself if you have nothing left for me to help you with, sir.” 

Tenya hesitated. He opened his mouth, then closed it. But then he opened it again, “Wait,” His voice croaked, his hand stiffly reaching out to yours before he stopped it, immediately pulling it to his side again. He cleared his throat, watching as you turned around again from the door. 

“L-let’s walk together to the exit, hm?”

Blink blink.

“Sure, mister Iida.” You smiled.

“Tenya,” He mumbled, walking to your side.

You tilted your head in confusion, “Hm?”

“Tenya, y/n. Just call me Tenya.” He softly repeated, smiling as he tapped his ID card to the reader beside the door, earning a small beep as the door unlocked for the both of you. 

He opened the door wide, nodding his head to the side to gesture you out. 

You smiled, clutching your laptop sleeve as you walked slowly past him, “Thank you,”

“...Tenya.” 

Goodness. A name should not have sounded that good on your lips, but the way you said his made his back stiff and his arms rigid. He couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, cracking out a grin as he closed the door behind him, walking beside you towards the elevator. 

Small silence fell upon the two of you, one that you had grown familiar with. Tenya wasn’t the type to make unnecessary small talk if it wasn’t needed for hospitality. You and him were strictly, professionally business. A boss and his secretary. At times like these, you would sometimes grab the opportunity to update him on his schedule for the day tomorrow. But tonight was different, that silence felt… different. 

The elevator dinged, and he once again allowed you to enter first. With a nudge to his glasses, he cleared his throat as he stood beside you, subtly shifting his weight from feet to feet after he pressed the elevator button. The faint hum of swing jazz and the aroma of air freshener made it almost dramatic for you to be this nervous. You wanted to open your voice to inform him of his upcoming reviewing deadline, but how the heck do you just call your boss by his first name?! 

“It’s alright to call me by my name, y/n.” He croaked out, his eyes lingering on the elevator buttons as he chewed slightly on his bottom lip. 

You stiffened. “Oh– um… well, …T-tenya,” And he smiled.

“I just wanted to inform you that you’ll have some new… recruits to review, sir.” 

He nodded, his soft smile still not leaving his face as his gaze lingered on you a moment longer, broken by the elevator door opening. His arm stretched out to hold the door, gesturing for you to walk out first, as he mumbled a small, “Alright, remind me that tomorrow, hm?”

You nodded, “I will, sir.”

Tenya’s steps fell soft upon the marble floors as he exited the elevator, and you bowed. 

… “I-I’ll excuse myself then, sir.”

“Tenya, y/n.” He tuts, gently reminding you. 

And you chuckled, almost shy. “Right, right.”

“I’ll excuse myself. …Goodnight,”

“...Tenya.” You softly added, turning on your heel to make your way to the front exit. Your shoes made haste.

All of a sudden, everything felt slightly crooked on his body. Tenya’s knuckle nudged his glasses up his nose, his hand tugged on his coat, combing back his hair, goodness that stupid smile that crept up his mouth from the moment you turned away even felt too wide now. 

He cleared his throat again, drifting his body’s direction to the parking lot, a hand over his mouth, and the night’s cold air had never felt so warm on his face. 

Stop it, stop it, stop that, Tenya!

This is your secretary you are smiling about! Your secretary!

His steps quickened to the parking lot, his loafers trudging about onto the concrete floors as he rushed to his car, beeping it twice before he entered it like a man trying to hide from his assassin. 

Hands gripped onto the steering wheel, and with a long sigh, he started the engine. The car chirped around as he turned the key, and his radio switched on automatically. Sure, he wasn’t the type to listen to songs that much, yet this one just crept up into his ears. An old love song with its classic guitar melodies, lounging on about love is unexpected.

˚୨୧⋆.˚

At last! All the months of preparation and lobbying guests around the building, typing out proposals after proposals, staying back at the office until a few extra hours, the project’s done. It was the day. A charity event, held to fund scholarships for students around Japan. To say it is a success would be an understatement. The event had made itself known to the news, being casted upon to multiple news stations. 

Safe to say, Tenya was beyond proud that his hardwork now paid off. He grinned widely. Upon his hand, perched up a small champagne glass, swirling around with his small motions. 

“You look dashing tonight, Tenya.” You called from behind, cutting through his thoughts.

He immediately spun around, eyes wide and scattering as it looked for you. When they did find you, he may or may not have forgotten how to breathe for a moment. If having you in blazers and loose collared shirts wasn’t enough to make him short circuit, this definitely does its job. The way you had done your hair so effortlessly, yet so enchantingly, and how the soft glimmers from the chandelier made your eyes sparkle, not to mention the formalwear you had chosen for tonight fit a little bit too good on your body. His smile came out strained.

“Ah, thank you.” ahem. “You look… incredible tonight, y/n.” He managed to reply. 

And then you chuckled, and goodness it sounded so melodic to his ears, breathless and light. 

Tenya’s hand pushed his champagne glass to his mouth, sipping the clear bubbling liquid into his mouth to distract himself from the rising rhythm of his heart beat. 

“You look super proud tonight.” You teased, a small smirk as you nudged him lightly by his arm. 

This time it was his turn to chuckle, pursing his lips into a smile. “I couldn’t have done… all of this without your help, y/n.” He said, motioning his hand to the lively ballroom.

Before you could even reply, Tenya was barged around by his friends, congratulating him on his accomplishment of successfully hosting the event. As his hand got dragged away by them, he casted one last look to you, pressing up a pitiful grin as a silent apology, which you replied with a chuckle and a wave of your hand. 

So now here you are. In a bar. In between these people you barely know. Sure, some of them were actually your friends, but they were too busy celebrating the success. Others? Eh, maybe you greet them in the hallways in the mornings and evenings, but that was all. They laughed and giggled drunkenly. Singing and dancing together with their blazers loose, while some of the women only chatted by the counter. 

By the edges of the laughing men, there Tenya sat, his tux already disheveled, his hair loosen down to his flushed face as he laughed about some joke that probably wasn’t that funny. Then his eyes spotted you, making him stumble a bit until he reached you, grinning from ear to ear.

“Goodness, y/n…” He slurred out, leaning against the counter. And you couldn’t help but laugh, seeing your usually strict and discipline boss now all loose and giggly. 

Then he leans. Perhaps a little too close to you. Yet you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind when he swayed, pointing to your face, smiling stupidly with his alcohol reeked breath. “Youu…”

“You are… so amazing, you know that…?”

Hm? 

Come again?

You waved your hand as you chuckled, looking away to hide that small flush of pinkness on your cheeks. “I think you’ve had way too many for tonight, sir.”

“S’ Tenyaaa,” He whined, leaning closer to you. “Stop calling me sir, y/n…” 

You stifled back a laugh, rolling your eyes as you sighed. “Fiine, fine,”

“Tenya, I think you’ve had your fair share of alcohol for tonight.” 

He leans his head to the side, pushing the counter with his weight. His eyes downcast and hazy, he smiled softly to you. “You think so?” 

A small chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head. “I know so, si—Tenya.”

The table scraped softly as you pushed a small glass of water to him, clinking the glass with the back of your finger. “Maybe some water would do you good.” You smiled, nudging the glass once more to get his attention to it.

Then he smiles, leaning his head upon the counter with his arms below his chin. His eyes hazily looked into yours, as if he was…admiring you. His smile grew before his hand reached out, moving away a loose strand of hair off your face. It was soft, gentle, tender. Something you would never expect from the stiff and professional Tenya Iida. From your own boss. 

His touch lingered a moment on the side of your cheek, he tucked his hand away again beneath his chin before he spoke, “You…”

“How are you this radiant…?” He murmured quietly, head tilting just slightly as he narrowed his eyes in awe. 

The loud and chattering bar seemed to quiet down at that moment, while the heat in your cheeks rose up. You cleared your throat, pushing the glass towards him again with your face turned to the other way. “Drink some water, Tenya.” You reminded, brushing him off. 

A low chuckle was what you heard, along with fabric shuffling softly as he stood up again, still leaning to the counter top. “You’re ignoring me.” He said, amusement lacing his tone. 

“No, I’m reminding you, Tenya.”

“...You’re caring for me,” He smiled. Sure, you weren’t looking at him, but that small change in his tone was recognizable. Yet this one wasn’t really heard much by you. It was small, subtle, yet there was a tone of admiration in it. Like someone saying ‘Aww’. 

You scoffed, turning your head to look at him again. “I always do,” Well maybe you shouldn’t have said that. 

…

…

Ahem! The bar stool croaked through the floor as you stood up, collecting your bag and coat. 

“I’ll be calling that a night, Tenya.” You slipped out a small greeting, smiling to his still-leaning form.

His face dropped to a small frown, almost a pout. “You’re leaving…?” His question sounded more like a weak plea. Disappointed and sad about your farewell. 

You chuckled as you zipped your bag up. “Yes, Tenya.”

“Tomorrow I still need to be in the office.” You teased, tilting your head slightly as you smiled at him. 

“...I also need to be in the office, I’m your boss.” He scoffed, his tone cocky and proud.

“Exactly,”

Putting your coat back on, you rattled the keys of your car in your hand, sinking it into the pockets. You clutched your bag, straightening up your posture while you brush yourself off before bowing to him. “Goodnight, Tenya.”

“...Get home safe, okay?” You smiled, turning away to walk towards the exit. 

Darn you and your soothing voice. Darn you and your smile. Darn you. His gaze stayed pinpointed on you even as you opened the doors of the bar to exit it, walking with that pace he’s grown to know too well. Steady steps with sureness, like you always had somewhere to be. The smile crept back onto his face. His gaze drifted back to the glass of water as he huffed a chuckle, grabbing it into his hand before sipping it. 

With a slow shake of his head, he let out another chuckle, softer this time. 

“Little minx.."

dworkism | do not repost!

➤ masterlist!

⋆˙⟡ ── to defy the stars.

pairings : knight!tenya i. x fem!reader

warnings : arranged marriage mentioned :0

➤ masterlist!

“Good morning, your highness.” 

The boy greeted, bowing to you in his way that you’ve grown familiar with. His eyes dared not to look into yours as his head kept low, finding his boots so very interesting.

“Arise, Tenya” You chuckled, watching as the blue haired boy rose from his curt, his dark blue eyes not daring to gaze into your own. 

It had been two years — well, 22 months, and a week, to be exact — since he was assigned to you, the next heir of the throne, the beloved princess, as your private guard. His job was simple; be with you at all times, and to protect you from any harm that comes your way. You had grown fond of him, his stiff movements, his worrisome habit, and his ever so slightly loud voice. 

He would follow you around as you took your walks by the city, greeting the citizens and haggling with the vendors, or playing with the children. It had seemed as if he was keeping a tight watch in every area you are in, his eyes would narrow if someone had gotten too close, his hands would ready themselves on the hilt of his sword if their hands went to a suspicious pocket. Slowly though, as he had spent time with you, he had grown fond of your jokes, your lighthearted jabs at him, and even your habit of purposely walking slowly towards your council meetings.

“Smile, Tenya. It does not kill you.” You say, seeing as the boy would always keep a sharp gaze to the surroundings, his mouth ever so slightly forming a frown. And he would comply, “Y-yes, your highness” and a small curve up his lips would appear. You had always admired his smile, and even complimented him many times for it, hoping that he would take it as a sign for him to start smiling more. For a small reason that — goodness, he scares the people away with that sharp gaze of his.

⋆˚✿˖°

The day Tenya had received the news of being chosen as the kingdom heir’s guard, he was ecstatic. He made sure to polish his sword, his armour, and even bought new shoes to be at his best. His steps were wide and confident as he made his way to the castle grounds. He memorized all the proper etiquette he had learned to greet a royalty, talk to a royalty, everything. He greeted the king and queen just fine, they smiled and approved of his bow, his replies, all were met with a knowing glance from the two, nodding to each other.

Then his eyes then laid upon you, the heir of the kingdom. Of course, the papers and people had praised you for your beauty, your elegance, and all sweet words. Yet it all came too short to even describe you. To him, you were radiant. He bowed to you that day, introducing himself, and even as you commanded him to rise, he dared not to look in your eyes, fearing he might stutter.

The days he spent with you were filled with schedules, and he would follow from behind as you attended your classes, went to walk by the city, attended your council meetings, or even ate dinner. 

Slowly, you allowed him to sit by the dinner table along with you, growing fond of his presence. “Sit with me, Tenya” You softly instructed, your hand gesturing to the seat beside you. 

So, as days turned to weeks, and weeks into months, Tenya now found himself memorizing your schedule, where he had to escort you to, what sweets you liked—wait, no, that’s not…— but oh, it is. 

Like it or not, for the last two years, Tenya continues to find himself growing in admiration towards you, and it only grows stronger each day as he watches you smile, laugh, chuckle, talk, goodness! Even the way you would slightly lose your temper in handling the council meetings looks so powerful and admirable to him. He finds himself unable to tear his gaze from you as you write your studies down to your books, his heartbeat would jolt and his chest would flourish with even a graze of your skin touching his hands, and he still couldn’t look you in the eyes without stuttering his words, and the sight of you in any dress seemed to always make his breath hitch in his throat. The way you would smile when saying his name, when you emphasize the syllables, it sends him into a spiral. This is… frustrating to him. He longed to hold you, to kiss your hand as you descended into your bedroom, to tuck your hair behind your ear, to… love you…

…He was but a knight, and you were the direct heir to the kingdom, a princess. He knew his feelings were a clap with only one hand. He is but a knight, a guard meant to watch from the sidelines, and not to interfere. For you were to find a suitor soon, and he had no chances of being one of them.

Yet he persisted, he pushed reality away, ignorance is bliss afterall. 

He would accompany you as you talked through the night at the castle gardens, babbling to him about anything, as your fingers danced on top of the water of the fountain, and you would sneak glances at him from the water, and sometimes flicked a trickle of water to his face, giggling. He would smile, and only to you, a warm grin would even form at his face, and his hands would twitch, tempted to move a loose strand of hair away from your face. You would tell stories to him of your day, knowing he was there through all of it, and he would listen, humming as a response. 

He finds himself helping you pick and choose your jewelry, and you’d sometimes laugh while putting up an earring to his ear, “You look beautiful, Tenya.” And the four words would send shivers down his spine, and his voice came out softer than how it would usually.

Tenya knew this was all wrong, he shall not, he should not be having these… interactions with you, he should not look at you so, it’s unprofessional, it’s against his protocol! It’s… forbidden. 

⋆˚✿˖°

You walked through the castle garden slowly, your hands clasped lazily behind your back as Tenya followed you close from behind. Your eyes wander through the trees, the flowers that now bow their heads to the setting sun. Tenya’s heavy boots’ steps became a rhythm to your own, and you found yourself falling into step beside him.

“The noon is beautiful today, hm?” 

“Indeed, your highness.”

Your heart flutters as you glance at him, smiling to you with the smile that you love perhaps a little too much. That smile that he never gave to anyone… but you. That smile, with his deep blue eyes, like pools that you would bathe in. Those eyes that made you… come alive every time you gaze into them. Despite his cold demeanor, stiff discipline, yet that softness in his eyes—they were always present when he talked to you, or when he was chiding you gently for your recklessness, and you would always find your heart hammering to your chest every time he did, and your words would stutter, stuck at the tip of your tongue. 

The feeling no longer felt unfamiliar to you, unlike the first time he offered to listen to your worries that night by the fountain, and even offered his coat to you. Goodness, were you always this shy? It seemed like talking to other men would flow like breathing to you, but since that night, Tenya’s figure always seemed to shine in your eyes, and you slowly found yourself looking for him in every room you enter whenever he was not around, sneaking glances to whenever he was training, and even complimented him purposely to see his cheeks grow red. 

You knew this was wrong. You are a princess, the heir to the throne, for gods’ sake! You shall not, you mustn’t.

But it’s only a small admiration… is it not…?

You sighed to push away the thought, turning to him as you walked backwards, “Do I look presentable for dinner, Tenya?”

He smiled softly, looking at you with a knowing gaze. “Of course you do, your highness.” He paused. Then continued, “...Y-you look… radiant, as always.” 

⋆˚✿˖°

“My dear,” The king smiled as he wiped his mouth from his dinner. He had a knowing smile on his face, one you grew to know too well; he had good news to share.

“The neighboring kingdom has sent a proposal.” He continued, a huge grin on his face. You knew too well what this was about, the past few months you’ve been nagged about seeking marriage, a prince or a nobleman to love and to cherish for the rest of your days. You knew all too well that he had found a kingdom who finally offered their son for you to marry. 

“...A marriage, father?” You made sure, your hands cutting the steak on your plate carefully. “Sharp as always, my dear. You are correct once more.” 

Tenya’s quiet movements paused, his hands felt stiff on his knife as he cut his steak, and the voices, noises of the dining hall seemed to be mere echoes at that moment. The day he had dreaded has come, the day he wished and dreamed will never come, came at last. He knew, oh he knew too well that this day would come, but the sting felt like venom in his chest, and the thought of you dancing, smiling at other men shot a chorus of jealousy through his veins that lasted short as he realized; you weren’t even his, not in the slightest.

“But father, isn’t it too soon? And this kingdom hasn’t been on the best terms with us…” Your voice cuts through his thoughts, though quiet and filled with uncertainty. You opened your mouth once more, “Not to mention—” The king raised his palm, commanding silence. 

“...I wish nothing but the best for you, dear daughter. You know that well.” 

“But father–” 

“y/n…I do not wish to argue as of now.” The king threatened, his brows frowning.

“...But their son!! Father, his reputation is not–” 

“I know, my dear, I know…” He sighed. “But this marriage shall be a great benefit–”

The chair croaked through the ground as you stood up, fists clenching by your sides as your eyes set ablaze. Your lips curled into a scoff.

“A great benefit to whomst?! You?!”

“My dear—”

“No!” You yelled, your vision narrowing from your furrowing brows.

You scowled as you turned away from the dining table, your shoes clacked against the stone floors, echoing through the room and halls as you exited the dining hall. Tenya’s eyes followed your figure, his eyes frowned at the sight, flickering back and forth from you and the king, frowning. 

“...E-excuse me, your majesty.” Tenya stood up, earning a wave of dismissal from the sighing king. 

His steps fell heavy upon the stone floors as he followed your way, exiting the dining hall, his head darted left to right, yet your familiar graceful figure wasn’t there, only the moonlight that seeped from the castle’s windows, the crickets singing a numb ring to his ears as he progressed down the hallway. 

“Your highness, your highness!” He called out, and the echoes of his own voice answered his call.

His boots fell heavy upon the cobblestone floors, the metal embellishments on his uniform clinked against each other as his arms swung front to back. But then, the familiar gleam of moonlight whispered into his eyes, upon the water in the fountain by the castle gardens, there the moon had settled, amongst its glow, you sat by the fountain, your fingers danced upon its water.

“Your highness!” He breathed out a relieved sigh, his tone hushed as he rushed to your side.

You stayed silent, refusing to look at him. He shall not see you, not when you’re this fragile. You lift your hand to your face to swipe a tear off your cheek, sighing softly.

“Y-your highness,” He breathed. 

A familiar twitch tugged on his arm, that one tug that always begs him to reach out his hand and hold you in his arms, enveloping you, to stroke your hair gently and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He ignores it.

“Leave me be Tenya,” You sniffled, your shoulder jolted slightly from your remaining sobs. You refused to turn your back to the fountain and face him, ashamed that you had cried in front of him. “But your highness–”

“You are dismissed for today, Tenya.” 

He froze, hesitance tugging the strings of his heart. Yet he did not leave, he stayed silent by your side as your quiet sobs slowly sang along with the trickling water and the harmony of crickets. The heat of his body was still present, taunting you from behind.

“Your highness, please, for this once, let me stay by your side.”

You opened your mouth to repeat your command, but it was stopped by a click from the embellishments of his uniform, along with a shuffle from the velvet brushing up against his arms, and yours.

The air hitched in your throat. The cold air of the night disappeared almost immediately as you felt his arms around you, the velvety coat of the fabric, along with the feels of his cotton gloves cautiously resting upon your arms. His chest was flush to your back, and responding to the drumming of your heart, your hand instinctively reached to his arms, now circling carefully upon your chest. His breath was shaking, trembling, as if in fear, but also relief. Tenya’s head slowly rested on your shoulder, and you could feel his body shake ever so slightly as his breaths hitched and choked softly in sobs.

“Your highness,” He croaked, his voice strained. “Please… please, talk to me…” 

You stayed quiet.

“Your highness… I would listen to you ramble about anything, your days, your accomplishments, your sadness…anything, your highness… so please… talk to me.”

You slowly turned your body to face him in his embrace, he stood straight back up, his eyes now welling with tears as his lips pursed slightly to hold them back.

“But why… Tenya…?” You asked softly, the hints of tears still present in your voice.

He stayed silent, his beautiful admiral blue eyes slowly finding home to gaze upon yours, before he said;

“For it is because I love you, princess.” He confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he trembled, darting away his gaze from yours in shame.

“...I love you…so very much,”

“A-and… I would trade nothing… to listen to you talk to me.” He continued, letting his mouth ramble on, the exhaustion of keeping a secret too big to handle dawning upon him. 

Your eyes grew wide with every single sentence he muttered out in hints of embarrassment and relief.

“I-I know… these feelings are wrong,” He stammered, his hands slowly finding your hands, gently holding them to his chest. 

“But I… I am but a knight, princess…no– I…”

“I am but a man and— gods help me… I try so hard...”

“So hard to keep my distance… but I just… couldn’t.” A sob escaped his lips, almost desperate. 

“It’s always you, my lady… always you… who makes me weak to my knees, always you who makes me smile, I… I love you …too much, it hurts.” He confessed. And as he did, his voice became lower and lower, his head ducking in shame, and his sobs frequent. But he shakingly kept your hands pressed to his chest, and you could clearly hear his racing heart.

Maybe it was the wine that was served at dinner, or was it just grape juice? Either way, your hands found their way to his cheeks, slowly guiding his face to yours. 

Then, Tenya’s world fell silent when his lips touched yours. Hesitance, then certainty. His hands slowly enveloped your waist, his thumb traced circles upon it, and one caressed your cheek as he sighed against your lips, meeting his forehead to yours.

“I love you… so much, princess,” He whispered, his finger gently brushed away the hair covering your face as he pressed a light kiss to your forehead, his tears met your skin.

“Shall the stars not write me into your story, I shall carve my name myself.”

dworkism | do not repost!

a/n : sorry it's been SOOO long since i've posted :(((((((( i was caught up with schoolwoorkkjdksjkskdj

ALSO SOSORRY IF HES OOC this is my first time writing for him 😔😔😔😔😔

➤ masterlist!

Father’s Daughter- Iida x Reader

Summary: Y/n Aizawa follows Iida to his internship in Hosu. During his fight with Stain, Iida learns the truth about where Y/n learned to fight.

(Might make into part 2)

“Don’t do it.”

Iida sighs closing the locker to his hero suit, case in hand. Ready for student hero internships.

“Y/n. Must I remind you that internships are mandatory. Regardless of how you feel about me going, you’ll have to bear it.” He says in a sickly sweet tone.

His smile never reaching his eyes.

Yours and Iida relationship started rocky. First interactions started with an argument on the best route for the villains vs hero assignment in the beginning of the year.

Although everyone appreciated the villain gimmick Iida played and staying safe, you wished for a more direct method.

After all, you know better than anyone that villains never sit still.

Nonetheless, respect for each other was still there. You even helped each during the attack on the USJ. Casually bickering throughout lunch, sometimes playful, other time not.

“You should know better to think I’m an idiot Iida.” You say with a frown and glare upon your face.

Iida finds your stoic personality frightening at times, and how it’s complete 360 from your quirk perceives you.

Long shimmering wings made of crystal give you a soft appearance, beautiful even, making people underestimate you at the sports festival. But Iida already knew better since his first team up with you.

You’re a killer- in a sense of hero work that is.

Your moves are effortless, as if you’ve been fighting amongst pros for years, having a stealth to your moves. Not to mention crystals are quite sharp when you’re wielding them.

He always thought his classmates and him looked like novices beside you.

Iida is just glad you weren’t a villain with those sense of skills. However he does wonder how you managed to know so much at a young age.

He also didn’t like lying to you, but he had to shake you off his trail somehow.

“I have zero clue what your insinuating, Y/n. Now it best you hurry. You know better than anyone that Mr. Aizawa doesn’t like to wait. It’s gracious enough he’s sending us off at the train station.” Iida says while closing the locker.

You sigh, knowing it was no use trying to get an answer outta him.

“I suppose you’re right.” You say while grabbing your gear from the locker beside him.

As much as Iida wanted to leave and avoid further discussion, there was still one thing he wanted answered.

“So who are you interning with? You were being very secretive about it for the past week.” He asks trailing beside you as you both walk towards the others waiting for the train station.

“I wouldn’t call being indecisive ‘secretive’, Iida. I’ve only made my decision two days ago. I’m glad Manual still wanted to take me on given the wait.” You say casually.

Iida stiffens. Looks like he won’t be unattended in Hosu.

“You’re interning with Manual too? Wouldn’t you want a more fulfilling internship. I’m sure your father can find you something.” He says chuckling nervously.

“Not much I need to learn that can’t be put on hold. Besides I can’t have my dad worrying about me too much, figured this would put him at ease.” You say staring up at him.

He knows the game you’re playing. But to be fair he started it first.

“But please enlighten me, Iida. If there anything I need to worry about in Hosu, I’m sure I can tell my dad about how dangerous it might be. And he’ll pull us both out of there.” You say with a penetrating stare.

Make no mistake.. Y/n Aizawa was no fool. Last thing he want is for his teacher to find out his intentions in Hosu.

Iida will just have to adjust to the circumstances.

You and your father share a striking resemblance, long black hair, but your eyes replaced his with red hue. You never mentioned your mother and yet you carry her quirk. But he always thought Aizawa was way too young for a teenage daughter.

“There nothing to be enlightened about, Y/n.” He says with a frown avoiding your gaze. His grip on his suitcase tightening

You let out a hum “Good.”

You both knew better than to know that was a lie.

“Villains appeared? Don’t worry I can head there right now.” Manual says into his coms and the fiery blaze rages over the city. You and Iida along side him waiting for his commands.

Manual turns his head to the both of you, but his body doesn’t turn away from the disaster in front of him. “You two, stay with me. We’re running.” He says before sprinting to the scene.

You both trail behind.

You thought Iida knew better than to lose sight of the mission. Thinking the weight of the catastrophe in front of him will help distract him from the familiar blood lust in his eyes.

But as soon as you lost sight of him as Manual commanded you to keep going, ensuring Iida can keep his own, you knew what Iida was set on doing. But the nomus attacking the city made it hard to focus on him.

“He’ll be fine, he probably aiding others. He can hold his own! He’ll be back” Manual says without a pause at fixing the scene in front of him. Afterall, one hero in training doesn’t trump (trigger word, sorry) a whole city of innocents.

“I wouldn’t be to sure about that.” You mutter under your breath, but you keep your pace. You wanted to be rational, but the heroes can hold there own right?

You pause your steps, remembering the last few minutes of when Iida could’ve disappeared. Before turning in the opposite direction to look for him.

It took you awhile to find him, searching wasn’t your strong suit. By the time you did, you witnessed Midoriya fighting the infamous hero killer. Iida paralyzed on the ground.

And by look of Stain licking his blade, Midoriya will meet the same fate as him.

You hold back, strategizing before making your move. You know his quirk all too well to know this won’t be easy. After all, you wield the same one.

But nonetheless you create a crystal blade form your body. Ready to meet your biological dad for the first time.

“You’re worthy enough to stay alive.” Stain says standing over Midoriya’s and Todoroki’s paralyzed body before turning around towards Iida’s.

“However I can’t say the same for them.”

Just before he was about to strike his sword into Iida you throw out shards of crystals his way.

Stains fast, reflexes unnatural as he manages to avoid some shards, getting nicked by a few. It’s no use though, you need to taste his blood for your other quirk to work.

Looks like you aren’t alone in this fight anymore.

“Now who keeps getting in my way-” Stain says before pausing as eyes land on you.

“Y/n” Iida musters on the ground. He didn’t want you here. You didn’t deserve to get hurt after all your warnings. Not one you deserved it.

“Y/n.” Stain mutters eyes widening at your name. Blades stay drawn for the both of you.

“I told you not to do irrational things, Iida.” You say landing on the ground beneath you, eyes kept on Stain.

“You look just like your mother. It’s good to see you in better hands my daughter. I’m glad you kept the name I gave you.” Stain says, his grip loosen on his blades.

The group tenses up at the news. The gears click in Iida’s head, realizing your resemblance.

Of course the girl he likes is not only the adoptive daughter of his teacher, but the daughter of the villain that hurt his brother. Funny how life works.

“I’m not your daughter. I didn’t know who you were till a few years ago. You have no right to say my name as if it means something to you.” You scoff throwing shards at him as he unguarded. He dodges.

“It does. After your mother died giving birth, I- I left you in the best hand I could find given the circumstances.” He says with a now firmer grip on his sword.

Seems like blood doesn’t stop him from his mission.

“You left me with other villains. Your words mean nothing to me.” You grit your teeth charging at him. He charges too, blades drawn. A sword fight ensues.

“I’m proud. You’re quick, your shots filled with intent. The people I left you with taught you well, and yet you’re here.” Stain says striking you on the shoulder. You take his blade and crystallize it before he can use it.

You stumble back at the hit, holding the wound tight.

“Smart move, but you’re no match for your creator. No one is.” Your vision turns red at those words.

“You don’t get to take credit for my success, not when I had to kill my own way to freedom.” You say standing up, not holding back.

The back and forth fighting lasts awhile after that. That until he strikes your side with his longer sword, and swiping another cut with his blade.

He licks his blade and you hit the ground.

“Lucks run out, kid” he says standing over you. You let out chuckle before looking up at him. You noticed the twitching in your classmates hands and feet. Midoriya stands ups.

“Not quite.”

Before you know it your three classmates are up, fighting the rest of the battle. Midoriya and Iida finally land a blow, and Stain eyes drop. He’s passed out and immobilized.

“Y/n! Are you okay?!” The group runs towards you.

“I’m fine. We need to tie him up” You cough and stand up while holding your side firmly.

“How are you already moving?!” Midoriya says while the other two stare. You eyes move towards Iida.

“I use my quirk on myself from time to time, it helps reduce the time effect.” You wince as Iida lends you his side to lean on.

The group tenses at the intense form of quirk training you mentioned. They all realized how much Y/n exceeds them and why. She grew up with villains.

There’s silence. You grit your teeth and grabs Iida’s arm roughly. Uncaring of his injuries, you know he’ll manage.

“I told-” you say, ready to chew Iida out.

“I know. I’m sorry. I was driven by anger to think clearly.” Iida says cutting you off, Midoriya tenses, taking it as a sign to find some rope to tie stain up, dragging Todoroki with him.

“And yet you came anyways. Knowing who I wanted gone.” He said. You bite the inside of your cheek as you feel his breath hit your cheek as he looks down at you. A bit flushed from proximity.

“Well of course I did. Couldn’t let you get yourself killed now could I class prez.” You say glaring up at him.

“Still. I made you confront someone you probably never wished on seeing, all because I was foolish.” He holds you closer, not even caring about the pain on his arm. His gaze make yours soften.

Something unspoken lingers between the two of you. Although you both won’t admit it, you guys care deeply for one another. Deeper than friends that is.

“You’re allowed to get angry Iida, we’re people after all. But don’t act on it. Not alone, that is.” You say with a sigh as you shuffle towards the other.

“I won’t, I promise. I’m deeply sorry” He says firmly.

“I already forgave you before this shit started. I’m not the one you should apologize to. You can save that for those two.” You say shrugging your head at your classmates tying up the man you resented all your life.

Iida chest warms at your words, how you forgiven him unconditionally. Even if others forgave him, it hit deeper coming from you.

“But don’t expect me to apologize when my dad gives you hell after this.” You say shrugging as Iida stiffens at your words.

You were never one for sugar coating. Neither was Mr.Aizawa. Iida mentally prepares for the battle a head.

“Right”

Really wanted to make this longer, but I got finals coming up. Just wanted to see if anyone like this idea before I write more. So if anyone wants a part 2 lmk!💜