Reader Is Mean - Blog Posts

clingy- maknae line

-texts with skz where you call them clingy and it’s really angsty

hyung line l masterlist l part two

a/n: the much requested maknae line is finally out! I hope you enjoy the pain lol! By the way, if you would like something to get taken down, please don’t to do it in a hateful way. I do apologise for any offence, but I do appreciate a polite request to take it down. Thank you!

Warnings: Angst, medical inaccuracies (please tell me if I’m wrong about anything and you need me to change it), mentions of panic attack

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Han:

Felix:

Seungmin:

Jeongin:

@desiturtle1

@miraculousystuff

@heheheheh1234321

@blinkstay4life

@velvetmoonlght

@beewilko

@bookswillfindyouaway

@younggwingss

@whatdoyouwanttocallmefor

Drop an ask, DM me or comment on this post if you want to be added!

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Hizashi Yamada X Reader

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Fighting the Pro 𓇢𓆸☾☼

This one is very angsty. SLIGHT DEBRIEF. The reader is a bit of an ass. Not for having unwarranted emotions but taking it out on him is very unwarranted. Being a pro at such a young age willllllll have an effect on you. It’s always when you’re young you feel like you’re running out of time.

masterlist

SYNOPSIS: You both are very grotesquely in love. Though early relationship there was definitely over compensation. A desperate cling for any type of normalcy. Though when you’re a pro in the top 10 and it becomes too much?

The room was filled with the heat of your bodies moving against each other, the air still thick with the remnants of heavy breathing and whispered praises. Hizashi lay sprawled beneath you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, golden locks fanned out over the pillow in a complete mess. His clothes had been discarded somewhere on the floor, long forgotten in the heat of the moment, and right now you’re watching the reveal to the fresh, angry red marks you had left on his skin.

His fingers lazily traced over your hip, drawing mindless patterns as he hummed in satisfaction. “Damn, babe,” he murmured, voice rough and pleased. “You make me want to do so many things to you.”

You smirked, stretching like a cat leaning closer to his face “You’re still talking, aren’t you? start doing”

He let out a breathy laugh before rolling over to press a lingering kiss against your jaw. “Okay, okay, you ask and shall receive.”

In a moment youre grinding down onto him. Feeling him beneath you so hard and ready for you. A low groan left his mouth as he pulls you close and kisses you roughly. The two of you wrapped into each other, Who knows how many rounds this has been? neither of you in any hurry to move. You want each other and need each other. But then, just as you were gripping your fingers through his hair, Hizashi stiffened.

“Oh, shit.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He shot up so fast he nearly rolled off the bed. “I was supposed to meet Shouta and Nemuri like” He grabbed his phone, eyes widening. “Twenty minutes ago! Oh my God.”

You snorted as he picked you off of him and scrambled to find his clothes, nearly face planting in the process. “zashi, be careful ”

“Babe,” he groaned, tugging on his pants with the coordination of a newborn deer, “you were literally sucking my soul out of my body of course I forgot!”

You only grinned. “I dont know if this is my fault, I had no idea you were seeing them today”

Hizashi groaned dramatically. “You’re unreal.”

But despite his rush, he still took a second to lean down and kiss you, lingering just long enough to make it clear he was reluctant to go. Then, shaking off the daze you had put him in, he throws you down to lay and puts a blanket over you. he threw on his jacket, grabbed his sunglasses, and bolted for the door. only to stop midway and run a hand through his already wrecked hair.

“Shit. I dont look too messy?”

You gave him a once over, eyes trailing over the mess of his clothes, his still kissed bruised lips, and the unmistakable marks you’d left on his neck. His golden hair was an absolute mess, his signature sunglasses were askew, and the high collar of his jacket barely concealed the array of fresh, bright, unapologetically placed hickeys decorating his neck like a victory banner. He moved in slow, stumbling motions, haphazardly fastening his belt with shaky fingers while still catching his breath. The man looked absolutely wrecked in the most smugly satisfied way possible.

You, on the other hand, lounged on the bed, completely unbothered, watching him trip over his own boots in a daze.

“Zashi, you’re late,” you reminded lazily, watching his half panicked, half pussy drunken movements as he tried to sober himself up.

“I knowwww holy shit I can still feel you on my everywhere” he groaned, shuddering dramatically as he ran a hand through his already ruined hair. “Babe, you don’t understand I think you rewired my brain with how much you were moaning. Like, I straight up can’t function.”

“You functioned just fine earlier,” you teased.

Hizashi let out a choked laugh, looking absolutely done as he threw on his sunglasses and stumbled out the door.

He groaned. “I love you really but my gooooood”

And with that, he stumbled out the door, muttering curses under his breath as he rushed to meet his very unimpressed friends.

Hizashi Yamada was struggling.

𓇢𓆸☾☼

By the time he arrived at the bar, he was quiet, an absolute rarity. He just slid into the booth across from Aizawa, shoulders slumped, nursing his drink like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

Aizawa squinted at him, immediately clocking the very obvious “I got busy before coming here or I was coming before coming here” energy radiating off of him. “The hell is wrong with you?”

Hizashi blinked at him slowly before bringing a hand up to rub his ear.

“Sorry, what?”

Aizawa’s eye twitched. “I said—”

“Yeah, yeah, no, no, can you say it again? Sorry, I can’t hear properly right now” Hizashi paused for dramatic effect, tilting his head and flashing a smug, self satisfied grin, “cause my baby kept moaning in my ear.”

Aizawa looked like he was actively regretting his life choices. Yamada had never been quiet a day in his life, and now he shows up to their long awaited catch up night looking like he’d been personally delivered into the hands of God??

“Don’t bring that nasty shit here,” Aizawa muttered, immediately reaching for his drink as if he could drown out the mental image.

Across the table, Midnight snorted into her glass while Mic just sighed, swirling his drink, utterly unbothered.

“Hey, man,” he added, smirking, “I’m just sayin’ if I ask you to repeat stuff tonight, it’s ’cause of that.” He pointed vaguely to his ear. “Just wrecked. Completely shattered. I got, like, post orgasmic tinnitus.”

Aizawa gagged.

“Leave,” he deadpanned.

“I’m already sitting, dude, what do you—”

“Leave.”

The three of them had been doing this for years this easy back and forth, this relentless teasing, this balance between Midnight’s playful mischief, Mic’s boundless energy, and Aizawa’s gruff exhaustion. It was the kind of friendship that had been built in the trenches of late night patrols, shared exhaustion, and an unshakable loyalty that had long since turned into family.

They were opposites in so many ways. Hizashi was loud, vibrant, the type to light up a room just by existing. Kayama was playful, charming, always knowing exactly how to push buttons and make people flustered just for fun. And Aizawa? Aizawa was the anchor whether he realized it or not, the long suffering soul who sighed, groaned, and rolled his eyes through every ridiculous conversation but never actually left because at the end of the day, these were his people.

And right now? His people were absolutely insufferable.

“Shouta,” Midnight gasped between giggles, still reeling over the absolute state of Mic’s neck. “Look at him again. Just one more time. I promise it’s worth it.”

Hizashi just smirked, unfazed, sipping his drink. The smugness radiating off of him was so dense it could be measured in metric tons.

Aizawa, meanwhile, looked like he was one more ridiculous comment away from throwing his entire drink in Mic’s face and walking out. “I’m this close to never seeing you again,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. Though everyone ag that table knew he’d kneel over and die first before abandoning his friends.

Across the table, Midnight was watching.

And grinning.

“Y’know,” she mused, swirling her glass, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people this in love before and it not be for show.”

Mic perked up immediately, cocking his head like a golden retriever that had just been called a good boy. “Aww, Kayamaaa,” he drawled, resting his chin in his palm with the dopiest lovestruck grin. “That’s so sweet”

“Yeah they’ve been obsessed with each other since she interned at the school” Aizawa cut in dryly.

“No, no, let her cook!” Mic shot back, waving him off before turning back to Midnight with stars in his eyes. “Go on, tell me how in love I am!”

Midnight snorted, glancing at Aizawa, who looked like he was contemplating his life choices. “I’m serious, though,” she continued. “Most couples? You can tell when it’s for show, or when it’s a phase, or when it’s gonna burn out in a year. But you?” She pointed at Hizashi with the utmost conviction, looking a little proud.

“You act like a damn lovesick idiot all the time. It’s gross but in, like, a good way.”

Mic beamed, looking stupidly proud. “I am a lovesick idiot! And it’s so good!”

Aizawa groaned, rubbing his temples harder, already regretting showing up. “have you guys always been this way?.”

“No, no, shou, listen,” Hizashi said, grabbing his arm. “She’s spittin’ facts! Spittin’! Like, I am so in love, man. So incredibly”

“Drink your damn whiskey and shut up,” Aizawa interrupted, yanking his arm away.

Hizashi chuckled, leaning back in his seat, his expression still drunkenly soft despite the teasing.

“Can’t help it,” he said, grinning like an idiot. “When you’re this happy, it kinda just… leaks out.”

Midnight just smirked, taking another sip of her drink. “Though How did you get to this point? Lord knows momma cant keep a relationship”

Hizashi paused, his goofy grin faltering for just a second. He took a deep swig of his drink, letting the sharp burn settle in his throat before speaking.

“It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows at first,” he admitted, leaning back with a sigh. His gaze softened, a rare, unguarded vulnerability creeping into his eyes as he stared at the table in front of him. “We were kinda, uh… figuring things out for a while. You know how I am. Always too loud, too impulsive, a little… well, a lot chaotic.” He shot a pointed look at Aizawa, who grunted in response, clearly trying to keep a neutral face.

“And she’s… different,” Hizashi continued, his voice lowering to something more serious. “She’s got this calm, steady presence about her. Makes me want to be better, do better, you know?”

Midnight raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but not surprised. “You two are opposites, huh?”

Hizashi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. It took us some time to get there, but eventually, we realized that maybe we did have something. Not just some casual fling or whatever, but… real feelings, y’know? And I was scared at first scared I was gonna mess it up, scared it wouldn’t be enough for her, that I’d let her down. But the moment I made that decision when I finally decided to stop running and put in the work? I could feel it click. Everything just made sense.”

Aizawa, who had been nursing his drink quietly, looked over at him with a narrowed gaze. “So you put in the effort? Actually put in the effort?”

Hizashi’s face softened even more as he nodded, eyes glimmering with sincerity. “Yeah. I did. We both did. And I think… that’s what it’s all about, right? Real love isn’t just the butterflies and passion. It’s the messy stuff, the growth, the parts where you have to put in effort, even when you’re exhausted or scared.”

𓇢𓆸☾☼

The apartment smelled like vanilla candles and takeout.

You barely had time to drop your bag before you saw it the table set, dimmed lights, another date night waiting for you. Like you hadn’t just gotten back from another mission, exhausted, bruised, and barely able to think straight. Like you weren’t still standing in the doorway, wearing the same uniform you’d been in for the last 48 hours, while Hizashi stood in the kitchen, grinning, oblivious to the storm building behind your eyes.

“Welcome home, babe!” His voice was bright, too bright, like he hadn’t noticed the tension in your shoulders, the exhaustion dragging you down like lead weights. And then he walked over, brushing a kiss to your temple before leading you further inside. “I got us reservations at that new place downtown! Figured we could get dressed up, have a nice night”

Something inside you snapped. It wasn’t just tonight. It wasn’t just this date. It was all of it. Every carefully planned dinner. Every perfect night out. Every photo ready, scripted moment that felt less like your life and more like some magazine romance article.

Every time you came home, and instead of letting you breathe, he tried to fill the space, like he was terrified of what would happen if he didn’t. And suddenly, you hated it. Hated all of it.

“Hizashi, stop.”

The words came out sharp, harsher than you meant. But you meant them.

Hizashi froze, blinking. “What?”

You exhaled hard, shaking your head, dropping your bag onto the floor with a thud. “This. The dates. The perfect little nights out every time I come back.”

You finally turned to him, voice sharp, cutting. “Can you just stop acting like we have to make up for lost time?”

His expression faltered. Just a flicker. But you saw it.

“…Babe, I just”

“You just what?” you snapped. “Try to force us into some picture perfect couple routine every time I walk through the door? Like it’s some checklist you have to complete?”

His brow furrowed, mouth pressing into a thin line. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Then what the hell are you doing?”

He let out a breath, stepping closer, but you stepped back, and that that’s when his face changed. That’s when his expression shuttered, something wounded flashing in his golden eyes.

“I’m trying,” he said, voice lower now. Softer. “I’m trying to make this work.” that that only made the anger burn hotter.

“By doing things that don’t even feel like us?” You gestured around, at the perfectly set table, at the candlelight, at the expectation hanging in the air. “Hizashi, when did we ever need to be like this?”

He flinched, just slightly. “I just thought—”

“You thought you had to prove something ,” you cut in, voice biting. “You thought we had to act like some stupid, perfect couple every time I came home so it felt like things were normal.”

“Because things aren’t normal!” His voice spiked, frustration cracking through now. “Because I never know when you’re coming back! I never know when it’s the last time I’m gonna see you when it’s the last time we get to do this!” His chest rose and fell, breath unsteady, fingers twitching at his sides.

It felt like the walls were closing in, trapping the anger between them, thick and suffocating. The air was hot, heavy with the weight of words that had been building for too long, now finally crashing down all at once.

Hizashi stood in the middle of the room, breathing hard, hands curled into fists like he was holding himself together. His sunglasses were gone, thrown onto the coffee table in the heat of the argument, leaving his golden eyes bare, raw with frustration, with something wounded underneath.

“You don’t even try to make time for us!” he had yelled first, voice too loud, cutting through the silence like a blade. “Do you even care anymore, or are we just gonna keep treating this like some long distance fling?”

The accusation hit hard, knocking the air from your lungs. Because it wasn’t true. yet the way he said it like he truly, honestly believed it made something in you snap.

“Don’t put this all on me, Mic!” you shot back, stepping forward, voice sharp, biting. “I’m doing everything I can! You think I like being away all the time? You think I like coming back just to feel like a stranger in my own relationship?”

His face darkened, jaw clenching. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“It sure as hell feels like it!”

That stopped him.Hizashi had been trying too hard to make up for lost time. Too many perfect dates, too many candlelit dinners, too many picture-perfect moments that felt scripted, forced.

None of it felt real.

Not because you didn’t love him. But because it made you feel like he was holding onto an idea of you, rather than the person you actually were.

So you finally said it.

“These idealistic Pinterest romance novel date? Its fake. What happened to us doing stuff we’re passionate about? What happened to real life things. It feels like you don’t love me, Hizashi. You love the idea of me.”

The second the words left your mouth, you saw the exact moment they landed saw the way his breath caught, saw the flicker of real, genuine hurt cross his face. Then, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head, his voice lower now, strained.

“…That’s not fair.”

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t angry. It was broken. And that was worse.

“You think I don’t love you?” he muttered, running a hand over his face, his voice shaking. “You think I’m just… what? Holding onto some fantasy version of you? That all of this doesn’t mean anything to me?”

You didn’t answer.

Because you didn’t know how.

Because you didn’t know if you were wrong.

Hizashi let out a bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it. Just something exhausted, something tired of fighting for you to see him.

“Yeah, maybe I’ve been trying too hard,” he admitted, his shoulders slumping. “Maybe I don’t know how to make this work. But do you know what it feels like to wait for you? To go to bed every night not knowing? To feel like I have to fight just to get a piece of you before you’re gone again?”

His voice cracked on the last word.

And suddenly, you saw it. The fear. Not just frustration. Not just exhaustion. He was afraid. Afraid that one day, you wouldn’t come back. That one day, there wouldn’t be anything left to come back to.

And that realization hit you harder than anything else.

“Don’t you dare act like you don’t understand where I’m coming from,” you snapped, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. “You’ve been a pro hero much longer than I have. You were just like this when you were my age.”

His brow furrowed, confusion flickering in his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, Hizashi!” The words came out sharp, louder than you intended. “You did the exact same thing when you were first starting out.”

Hizashi flinched, his mouth opening like he was about to argue, but you weren’t done.

“I care about you so much,” you said, your voice quiet now, more vulnerable than you wanted it to sound. “But right now? I can’t. I can’t pretend like everything’s fine when I’m always on the go, running from one mission to the next. I don’t have the luxury of playing house or acting like I’m some domestic goddess. I’m just trying to stay alive out there.”

His expression softened for a brief moment, but you could feel the distance growing between you. The things you were saying weren’t just about him anymore they were about you. And the pain in your chest deepened as you spoke the next words.

“I’m not like you, Hizashi. I don’t have time to pretend like everything’s okay, because out there, it’s not. I need to focus. I need to figure out how to be the best damn hero I can be. And when I come back, I don’t want to be distracted by a fake reality. I just want to see you .”

Hizashi stood silent, his hands hanging by his sides. You could feel him pulling away not physically, but in his heart, somewhere deep down.

“Do you understand?” you asked softly, though your words came out barely a whisper. “I need you to understand. I don’t want to lose you, but I have to be who I am. I need to help people. But i need you”

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence between you both. Then, finally, he took a step back, rubbing his face, and the hurt on his face was so palpable it made your chest ache.

“You used to be this guy,” you said, stepping closer, your voice softer now but still intense. “The guy I fell in love with the weird guy, the one who spoke before he thought, who couldn’t hold back his excitement for the smallest things. The guy who dragged me to concerts, the one who’d make me laugh until my stomach hurt, and we didn’t care what anyone thought. We didn’t need all this,” you gestured to the dinner table, the candles, the perfect setup. “We didn’t need these fake, picture perfect nights. Why can’t it just be like it used to be? Why can’t it be the concerts and the lighthearted silliness? The way we used to be?”

His eyes softened, but there was a flicker of something else in his gaze frustration, and it broke you.

“You don’t want me anymore?” he asked, his voice cracking with the words.

“No!” You shook your head, feeling the anger slip away, only to be replaced by something much more painful. “I don’t want the version of you that’s trying so hard to be something you’re not. I don’t want this perfect idea of us, this… this facade.” You took a step closer, now within arm’s reach, and your voice softened. “I want the guy I fell in love with, the one who didn’t care what anyone thought, the one who made everything fun, even when things weren’t perfect. I want that guy, Hizashi.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his gaze never leaving you, as if he was trying to piece together everything you’d said.

“But I’m trying,” he murmured finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m trying to give us the life we never had, a chance to be normal, to have what other people have. You deserve that.”

The pain in his voice was almost enough to make your heart shatter.

“I don’t want what other people have,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper now, full of raw honesty. “I just want us. The way we used to be. No facades. No pretending. I just want to come home to you, Hizashi. The real you.”

He didn’t speak for a while, but the silence wasn’t cold anymore. It was heavy, fragile, like the two of you were standing on the edge of something, waiting for it to break.

Finally, he took a step closer, his hand reaching out slowly, unsure. When his fingers brushed yours, there was an undeniable connection a silent understanding that wasn’t about perfection, but about the truth.

The silence between you and Hizashi was heavy, thick with emotions that neither of you knew how to untangle. The space between you felt like it was closing in, suffocating and full of unspoken words. You both stood there, neither moving, just staring at each other, a tension building that you couldn’t shake.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, each beat a reminder of everything you were trying to say but couldn’t. You wanted to scream, to demand understanding, but it was like you were trapped in your own mind. Hizashi stood there, his golden eyes not leaving yours, his face tense, unsure of what to do next. He looked at you for a long moment, his breath shaky, but he didn’t say anything, just continued to watch you, his chest rising and falling. You could feel the pain in the air between you, and it made your throat tighten. He swallowed, his eyes darkened with some emotion you couldn’t read, but you could feel the intensity of it. Then, slowly, almost like he was unsure if you’d let him, he stepped forward.

“Can I” he started, his voice raw.

You couldn’t answer, your chest tightening with the emotions you’d been holding in, and before you knew it, he was close, pulling you into his arms. You didn’t resist, not even a little. You melted into him, your body shaking slightly with the rawness of the moment. He held you tight, his arms wrapped around you, the warmth of him filling you up.

And that’s when it hit.

The dam inside you broke. The tears came suddenly, hot and fast, as if your body had been holding them back for so long, and now it couldn’t stop. You didn’t even try to control it, didn’t even care if he saw the hurt on your face. It was all coming out, everything you had buried for so long, all the pain and frustration, the weight of your choices, your fear of losing him.

You sobbed against his chest, the sound raw and jagged, as if the very act of crying was too much, too overwhelming. Hizashi’s grip tightened around you, his hand smoothing over your back in soft, reassuring strokes. You could feel his breath on your skin, his heart beating in time with yours.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

He didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he just held you tighter, as if he was anchoring you to him, keeping you grounded in that moment, in the safety of his arms. After a long pause, he spoke, his voice low and full of gentle emotion.

“All I’ve ever wanted,” he said softly, his voice cracking just a little, “was to love you.”

The words hit you like a wave, crashing into the storm of emotions inside you, and you cried harder, the weight of them finally sinking in. You pulled him closer, your hands gripping his shirt, as if you were afraid he might slip away, like you were losing everything.

“I want to be the one who’s there for you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice trembling slightly. “I know this was probably too much it felt weird even for me, but all I’ve ever wanted is to love you. To be the guy who’s here for you, even when things are tough. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your face streaked with tears, your eyes red. But you saw it then the tenderness in his gaze, the raw sincerity in his expression. It was like he was showing you a side of himself that he’d been hiding, afraid you wouldn’t accept.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, the words coming from deep inside. “I just… I just don’t know how to make it all work. Everything is so hard and I ruined the best thing I had”

Hizashi wiped away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his touch gentle, almost reverent. “We don’t have to have it all figured out. We just need to be real with each other. Unconditionally.”

You nodded, your chest still tight with emotion, but the tears had slowed, the weight in your heart lightened just a little by the sincerity in his words.

“I just love you,” you said, your voice thick with emotion, but steady. “Even when I don’t know what I’m doing. Even when it gets messy.”

He smiled, the smile that always made you feel like you were home. “Always,” he whispered. “I will always love you.”

𓇢𓆸☾☼

“Damn,” Midnight hummed thoughtfully, leaning forward. “That’s some real shit, Mic. But I get it. You two are a damn team.”

Hizashi looked back up at her, a genuine smile stretching across his face as he thought about you. “Exactly. It’s not just about the good times, yeah, it’s a little messy, but that’s what makes it worth it.”

Aizawa snorted, shaking his head but still smirking. “I’ll believe it when I see it last. You’re not exactly known for your ‘long term commitment’ skills.”

“Well, you’ll be seeing it, Shou,” Hizashi grinned, crossing his arms. “I’m gonna make sure of it.” He took another sip of his drink, his usual energetic self returning, albeit with a soft, fond gleam in his eyes. “I guess the real lesson here is that when you find someone worth it, you fight for it. You don’t just let it slip away because it’s hard. And hell, I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Midnight leaned back, tapping her glass thoughtfully. “You really do love her, Mic. Who knew you had it in you?”

He smirked, now more like his usual self. “I’ve always had it in me. Just needed the right person to bring it out.”

Aizawa just sighed again, rubbing his eyes, but there was a slight, almost imperceptible hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m still not hearing about this again, right?”

“Of course not,” Hizashi teased, raising his glass with a wink. “But maybe next time, I’ll bring her along so you can see what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, right,” Aizawa muttered, reaching for his drink. “Just don’t bring any more of those details with you.”

Hizashi winked again, fully aware of the teasing but secretly grateful for his friends’ support, in their own way. He wasn’t just in love he was building something that mattered. And that meant everything.

Mic turned to him, utterly radiating joy. “Oh, babe, c’mon, don’t be jealous.”

Aizawa turned slowly, his exhausted, soul deep stare locking onto Mic like a curse.

“…What?”

Mic just smirked. “If you want me to kiss you on the ear too, all you gotta do is ask, babe.”

Aizawa physically recoiled, looking betrayed, while Midnight shrieked with laughter, grabbing Aizawa’s sleeve like she needed him for support.

“This is the worst night of my life,” Aizawa muttered.

“You say that every time we go out,” Midnight teased.

“Because it’s true every time.”

And yet he was still here. Because as much as he liked to complain, as much as they actively tested his patience, these were the people he’d risked his life beside. The people who knew him too well, who had been there through every high and low, and who, despite their insufferable antics, would have his back without question.

Even if they were giggling like teenagers at Mic’s hickey covered neck.