Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Izuku didn’t consider himself a particularly violent person.

In fact, he went out of his way to be kind, to do his part for his fellow man. 

But even a kind person has their limits, and this was his. 

Someone had taken something from him. Something that was his.

This had to be rectified. 

— — — — — 

Izuku really shouldn’t be surprised that he was the first to notice that Eraserhead was missing.

But he was disappointed that he was. 

Izuku started off simply and retraced Eraserhead’s patrol. 

It was quiet for the first hour or so until Izuku caught sight of a lookout. 

Avoiding being seen was second nature, Izuku barely had to think at all as he ducked into the shadows and wove his way through alleys until he was perched on a fire escape just above his target. 

Interesting how easily a human became a target when he had been wronged . 

The thought flew into and out of Izuku’s mind in record time, causing no hesitation when he silently launched himself onto the man’s shoulders. 

The only sound was a grunt as the man crumbled to the ground. Izuku quickly used one of his patches, slamming it over the man’s mouth without remorse and activating it. With that done, Izuku dragged him by the collar farther into the alley, through the muck and trash until they reached the dead end Izuku had seen from the rooftop and slammed the lookout into it. 

“Where is he?” Izuku spat out and watched the man’s eyes widen in fear and then narrow in defiance. 

He flipped Izuku the bird. 

“We can do this my way or your way,” Izuku said, getting into his face. “My way involves blood.” The man seemed to consider it before hanging his head and nodding. “If you scream, I’ll gut you right here, right now,” Izuku warned. The man looked up, and Izuku could make the whites of his eyes out even in the dark. 

Satisfied, Izuku deactivated the gag and took it off. 

“Who are you looking for?”

“Eraserhead.”

“I don’t know any ‘Eraserhead,’” the man replied and lifted his chin up defiantly. Izuku could see the smirk threatening to break across his face. Izuku wanted to tear it off with his teeth. 

Instead, he told himself to wait, that it would be worth it. 

“He disappeared on his patrol route last night, the route passes directly through this area,” Izuku said through gritted teeth. The man clicked his tongue dismissively , and suddenly all Izuku could see was red. 

The red of Kacchan’s eyes. 

The crimson heat of his deadly quirk. 

The one he abused to this day. 

Izuku slammed the man back into the wall, making sure his skull cracked against the brick. Smiling viciously beneath his mask, Izuku watched impassively as the man let out a pained grunt and spit out blood. Izuku knew it landed somewhere on him, and knew the lookout had done it on purpose. It might’ve been the first blood stain on this suit, but it wouldn’t be the last before Eraserhead was safe within Izuku’s arms again. 

“I’ll ask one last time,” Izuku hissed and clamped his hand down over the man’s throat as quickly as a cobra could strike. “Where is Eraserhead?” Izuku pushed his palm into the man’s windpipe rather than squeezing on the sides which was comparatively much safer– he wasn’t fucking around. 

“Okay, okay!” He managed to choke out and Izuku released the pressure… marginally. “The Yakuza I work for, they wanted him for something!” Izuku pressed his hand in threateningly. “That’s all I know, I swear! I swear! I was just supposed to give a signal when I saw him enter the area. They took care of the rest.” 

Izuku’s brain processed the information at lightspeed, and considered the man before him with new eyes. He was about Izuku’s age and clearly low level if was standing look-out at two am on a Tuesday. 

“Is that it?” Izuku growled, squeezing on the sides of his neck just for effect. Izuku’s mind had been made up about this man’s fate hours ago. 

“Yes! That’s everything, I promise. I didn’t have anything else to do with it, that’s all I know.” The man was shaking now. Izuku wasn’t in the headspace to be ashamed that his visceral fear was something that awakened the devil in him. It rose from its slumber slowly, but when it prowled toward the surface of Izuku’s skin, their grin was as sharp as the knives decorating Izuku’s body. 

He let the man’s neck go and took a step back– as if Izuku was done with him. 

He felt more than saw the man’s sigh of relief.

And just when the man seemed to see the light at the end of this encounter, Izuku struck. 

You see, no one takes what’s his. 

Izuku’s fist came like a missile straight to the hinge of his jaw. Izuku smiled with satisfaction at the crunch. 

There would be no screaming. 

The man was knocked off his feet by the momentum. He curled up on the ground of the alley in the unidentifiable filth. Izuku clicked the heel of his right boot against the left. The knife hidden there in the steel toe slid out almost soundlessly. If they hadn’t been in as close quarters as they were, the lookout might not have heard. 

As it was though, the man let out a pitiful whimper. Izuku didn’t hesitate and didn’t take satisfaction in what he did next. He cocked his foot back over and over again, delivering blow after blow to the man’s vital organs. 

The noises stopped soon after. There was only the squelch on the knife moving in and out, but Izuku didn’t stop. 

He wasn’t a victim, he wasn’t worried about the man getting up again to fight back, no. He just wanted the job finished. 

Once the blood had puddled around the man’s body, Izuku stopped and sheathed the knife, but he wasn’t done just yet.

He rolled the lookout over and opened his mouth, wincing at the sound of bones grinding against each other, before he grabbed the man’s tongue. Izuku pulled the dagger from the hidden holster on his thigh and cut the tongue out with a wince. 

He then found the closest thing resembling a nail in the alley and pounded the tongue into the wall above the body with the hilt of his knife.  

With that done, Izuku wiped the blood off the blade with the fabric of his pants and holstered it again. 

He took back to the roves and thought no more of what he had done that night, or the body that would be found come morning. 

He only turned over the information in his mind. The yakuza had Shouta. 

Well, his father had always told him he could conquer the world. 

He would settle for burning down an empire in his lover’s name.

Chapter Text

“You look like shit,” Izuku said, announcing his presence. Eraserhead was well past the point of being surprised by his drop-ins. 

“Thanks,” the hero huffed. 

“Here,” Izuku said and passed him one of the coffees he had picked up before he set out to find the hero. Eraserhead turned then, raising an eyebrow when he saw the offered cup. “I promise it’s not poisoned.”

“Eh, I’ll risk it,” Eraserhead snatched the cup out of Izuku’s hands and popped the lid off. Izuku watched him inhale the aroma of the brew before he downed what seemed like half of it in one gulp. 

Izuku settled in as much as the concrete of the rooftop would allow. The sun had almost set, meaning that Eraserhead’s shift would start soon, and so would Izuku’s extracurriculars. 

Izuku took a sip from his own coffee, something that had too much sweetener in it and probably would’ve made Eraserhead punch him just on principle. 

“How was your day?” Izuku asked. 

“It was good, I missed my nap for a meeting though,” the man sighed. “How was yours?”

“Busy, but good,” Izuku thought of the freelance hacking jobs he had rushed through, and the protest he’d gotten arrested during. Of course he dodged the charges, it wasn’t his first rodeo. 

Somewhere on Eraserhead’s person an alarm sounded quietly and the man huffed, Izuku snickered. 

“Wraith, you are under arrest for vigilantism under code 29–” Izuku stood and jumped off the roof, laughing as Eraserhead tried to catch him and finish the arrest. 

…

Finally stumbling into his apartment, Izuku tried to kick his boots off with no success. 

With a put upon sigh, he closed his door behind himself and flipped the locks into place. He sat on the floor and pulled his gloves off, forcing his stiff fingers to undo the knot and laces. With the strings practically pulled out of his boots, he sat there and leaned against the entryway wall yawning. A bump had him sitting up and looking alive, his three-legged cat Dumpster was doing her best to get his attention, but every time she headbutted him she almost tipped over. 

“Hello, baby girl. How was your evening?” He asked as he scooped her into his arms. Dumpster immediately started purring and it made Izuku’s heart melt for the zillionth time when it came to her. 

He snuggled her closer, enjoying how soft her fur was for a moment before he found it within himself to get up– taking his princess with him, of course. 

Izuku took his boots off, successfully this time around, and walked through his small apartment to the bedroom in the back. He set Dumpster on the heated blanket at the foot of his bed with a kiss on the head and began shucking his uniform. 

He felt particularly stale between the sweat he had worked up playing cat and mouse with Eraserhead and the hours he later spent doing surveillance. He dumped all the gear into the bottom of the closet to be dealt with later and locked most of the weapons in his safe (he wasn’t an idiot, he hadn’t gone unarmed in nearly a decade).

Slipping into sweats and an oversized t-shirt was a close second to the highlight of his day. 

With that, he flopped onto his bed to give Dumpster more pets. 

She turned to cuddle closer to him, shoving her face into his armpit of all places, the little freak. 

Izuku just smiled and curled around her protectively. 

As he drifted off, he thought about the events of his day. The satisfaction he felt at the police station when the dick who arrested him had to release him paled in comparison to Eraserhead. He had known the man from afar for so long that every little interaction stood out to him. 

He cradled each of them as close to his chest as he did Dumpster. 

The man was– undefinable really. 

But Izuku was more than happy to make a study of him. 

That was the first day that Midoriya Izuku thought of Aizawa Shouta as his.  

Chapter Text

Izuku wished he didn’t know where to go, it made him think this all could have been prevented. 

Dwelling on those thoughts wouldn’t help him.

This next part would though.

— — — — —

After two painful days of casing the building, Izuku was ready to go in, and he did so with the grace of a battering ram. 

He drilled into the wall, having hit the laundry shoot. With the drywall out of the way, Izuku wiggled his way in. He used the tight quarters to hoist himself up until he heard voices and the sound of a TV. 

Izuku slowed his breathing and waited. He knew he would get the fight he was aching for, but it wouldn’t do to go in half-cocked. 

Drinks were flowing freely, he heard laughing, a woman giggling. Izuku rolled his eyes, hoping to whatever god would listen that one of his friends wasn’t on the outside of the shoot. 

Speaking of which, how the fuck was he going to get out of this thing without drawing attention to himself?

He thought he could.

He was wrong. 

Izuku landed on his ass on the hardwood floor. As a result, the room was now so quiet you could hear a pin drop. So much for stealth . 

No matter though, Izuku was used to pivoting. 

He didn’t recognize the woman there, but she definitely wasn’t innocent to what was going on. He used the modified capture weapon he only used on occasion to take her out first. 

He got himself up and set the fabric flying toward her, binding her tightly. 

Before the other men in the room could reach for a weapon, Izuku sent knife after knife flying to immobilize each of them.

He turned his mask’s voice modulator on and put it to use. “Scream and you die.” 

Most of the men clammed up right then and there, either out of fear or hubris, but there was one who was a bit too obvious about the breath he took to shout. 

Izuku’s knife landed comfortably in his eye socket. 

The resulting sound made his friends wince and/or blanche. 

“I’m looking for Eraserhead. Where is he?” Izuku asked voice intentionally voice of any emotion or inflection. He wasn’t scared to show his soft spot for the man, but he knew that people generally found those who murdered and weren’t affected by it more disturbing. 

“The hero?” Izuku didn’t dignify that stupid question with a response, he just tilted his head. 

“He’s not here,” Another declared. Izuku shot his head with disappointment. 

“Obviously not or you wouldn’t still be alive,” Izuku said, distantly he could hear the woman tied up on the floor sobbing. 

“You’ll never find him,” one of the bigger men says viciously. 

“Is that so?” Izuku says and stalks forward. The smell of piss is suddenly in the air. “And what exactly makes you say that?”

He unsheathed the knife in his boot and pushed it dangerously close to the man’s groin. 

“He was captured on the orders of our boss,” the man says in a sudden rush, voice rising several octaves. 

“And who might that be?” Izuku pressed the blade closer and he started sobbing. 

“All for one,” he choked out. Izuku raised a brow under his mask. 

“Sato,” the one to Izuku’s left hissed with wide eyes. 

“Something to say?” The man’s mouth slammed shut so quickly it looked like it hurt. Upon closer inspection, he realized what the problem was. 

“Whatever you’re worried about your boss doing to you doesn’t hold a candle to what I can,” Izuku stated bluntly. 

“All for one has a base in Mustafu.” The words seemed to break out of the man of their own accord. 

“What does he want with him?” Izuku pressed the knife in further, pressing against the bulge in his pants. The fabric was starting to rip , Izuku noticed numbly. 

“No one knows!” He blurted. 

“He probably just wants his quirk!” Izuku blinked because whatthefuck . That made exactly zero sense. 

Quickly masking his confusion, Izuku pulled back. “How do you know all this?” He watched them all trade glances between each other rapidly before one of them confessed. 

“Shigaraki wouldn’t stop talking about it."

“That kid is such a pain in the ass, the only reason he’s around is because of his quirk.” The ‘conversation’ took a strange turn then. Izuku learned a weird amount about this Shigaraki person, who seemed to be everyone’s least favorite person. 

“Hey!” Izuku shouts when it goes too far, “What’s his quirk?”

“Disintegration,” the one whose dick was in danger answered quickly. 

Now why hadn’t All for One taken his quirk?

Izuku rolled his eyes at the whole situation. It was fucking idiotic and he was done. 

He killed them all quickly to avoid them alerting anyone. When that was done he stepped over to the woman and untied her. 

The tears and mascara had dried on her cheeks. 

“I didn’t know, Zu. I just needed the money,” she whispered. Izuku took her hands and helped her up. They stood looking at each other for a moment before they crashed into a hug. Izuku wasn’t sure who pulled who in first, but it didn’t matter. He rubbed circles into her back and she squeezed him harder. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he whispered. Tanaka huffed. 

“Zu… I’ve always known you do what’s right and you protect your own. That’s why me and so many other people are still standing.”

“Still,” Izuku muttered. She pulled back and smirked at him. 

“If you feel like you need to make it up to me, bring me a coffee sometime,” she said half teasing and it made Izuku smile. 

He nodded, “Alright, but first take the laundry shoot all the way down. There’s a hole that it lets out into the alley.” He waited for her to look over and made sure she absorbed the information. “Don’t come back here anytime soon.”

She nodded and started striding toward the shoot before she turned. “Zu,” she hesitated and bit her lip, “Thank you.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, all he could do was nod. 

He waited for her to leave and tried to give her enough time to get through to the alley and then he got to work. 

Izuku followed the same steps he had taken when he killed the lookout earlier that week with some modifications. More people meant more variables. Instead this time, he pulled his knives free from each body and gutted them before cutting out their tongue and discarding them next to the bodies. He didn’t care for any dramatics this time around. 

He considered for a moment before just leaving the knife in the guy’s eye socket. It was just a generic military-style knife, and he didn’t feel like cleaning it off. 

Looking around the room, his work was done, but something stopped him from leaving the same way he came. 

The tattoos that branded them seared themselves into Izuku’s brain. They were all he could see.

He picked up one of the pieces on the table and an extra clip. Weighing the gun in his hand, he made his mind up. 

He let his footfalls deepen as he descended the stairs into the main restaurant area. From the shadows, he scanned the room. It was sparsely populated, but every person there was wearing a tattoo similar to one of the men upstairs. That was what signed their death warrants. 

Izuku unloaded both clips calmly, even when chaos broke out and the men tried to defend themselves. 

Just because Izuku preferred knives didn’t mean he wasn’t a straight shooter. 

…

Izuku arrived back at his apartment before the sun rose. Dumpster didn’t come greet him, he figured she was probably asleep which was for the best. 

He was covered in blood in most places. Izuku stripped everything off in his kitchen. He left the weapons on the countertop and dumped all the fabric in the sink. He ran the hot water over the fabric and filled the sink before pouring in a massive amount of white vinegar. 

With that soaking, Izuku went about cleaning his knives and boots before sharpening all the blades. When he was done and he could put his clothing into the actual washing machine, the dawn was spilling through his windows. 

It was then that Izuku broke out of the haze his mind had been in for so long. 

He had been standing in his kitchen in the dark in nothing but his underwear for what was probably a concerning amount of time. Life blinked back into focus and Izuku sighed. 

He made a plan for himself. 

1) Shower

2) Eat

3) Figure out who the fuck Shigaraki is

Chapter Text

Izuku was tired . 

And hungry for that matter, it had been a long night. 

All he wanted to do was go home and collapse and never have to think about doing this sort of thing again. 

There was a man. How every bad story started . 

Izuku had first heard that he was dangerous from some of his friends who worked the corners. 

The girls said that they avoided him at all costs. 

That was what tipped him off first. They would never ask a favor to him, because for so many of them, a favor was how they ended up at the bottom of a river. Or worse.

So Izuku took it upon himself and started collecting information– with a well-placed motion sensor camera and some vaguely legal data mining. 

After a couple of weeks, he had collected everything the police would need for an arrest. 

Or at least, he would have if the anonymous tip hadn’t been given to one of the worst detectives on the force (in Izuku’s not-so-humble opinion). The man blew it all off. 

Izuku gave him the benefit of the doubt for a few days, figuring that he might be busy working on other cases, but it didn’t take long for him to wonder why the detective wasn’t closing what was a slam-dunk case. 

So Izuku hacked into the precinct cameras. The comments the detective made about quirkless people were enough for Izuku to start white-knuckling his mouse, but the comment about his ‘worthless quirkless whores’ was enough for Izuku to shatter it. 

He took matters into his own hands after that. 

This was how he found himself, sitting on the ledge of a building with an exhaustion that felt bone deep, listening to the white noise in his head. 

“Should I be worried about whose blood that is?” Eraser asked from somewhere to Izuku’s right. 

“No, he’s not going to hurt anyone anymore,” Izuku responded honestly, but couldn’t care enough to chastise himself. 

Izuku felt the man’s presence get closer, but strangely it didn’t set him off. He could see that Eraserhead had braced his forearms onto the roof’s ledge to lean on. “Killing people is wrong,” he murmured. 

“So is rape,” Izuku countered just as softly. 

Eraser just sighed in response. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” No . He seemed to hear the unspoken response all the same. 

“Are you injured?”

“No, it was clean.” Izuku needed to stop offering details, and some part of his brain was critical of the way he was interacting with Eraserhead at all, but it got weaker and weaker the more Izuku wanted to just slump over.

He must’ve been teetering because before he knew it, there were arms wrapped gently around him, steadying him. His stomach growled and interrupted whatever panic was surely about to hit Izuku like a freight train and made him wince. 

“Why don’t you grab your go bag and change, and I’ll meet you at the ramen place at the end of the block?” Eraser suggested. A well-worn protest was on the tip of Izuku’s tongue, practiced and perfected every other time Eraser would ask him something that would involve him taking his mask off. 

But then Eraser’s arms tightened around his waist and all Izuku could do was sigh. 

“Alright. Give me five,” he murmured, restraining himself from leaning his head back against the other man’s broad shoulder. 

Eraserhead hovered as Izuku swung his legs back over the roof and stood. Eventually, he must’ve sensed Izuku glaring at him because he just quirked a smile before taking off from the roof with his capture weapon. Izuku shook his head. 

He retrieved the backpack he had thought it had hidden so well and opened it. He tore his mask and gloves off, as well as his tac vest and undershirt. The cold breeze flowing through woke him up more, making goosebumps break out across his chest. 

Izuku quickly took his thick hoodie out of the bag and slipped it on, pulling the hoo firmly on, before he slung the backpack onto his back and fastened it. 

He decided to avoid people and travel via rooftop to the end of the block, which was a questionable decision given that he was getting close to dead on his feet. 

For now, though, he was firmly in the sleep-deprived delirium stage, which was why he didn’t hesitate to drop down to street level next to Eraserhead.

The man in question jumped. This amused exhaustion crazed Izuku deeply. 

“Wraith?” He asked with a deeply freaked-out look on his face. 

“Eraser?” Izuku countered with a raised eyebrow. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a chaos demon?”

“On occasion, yes. Can we eat now?” Izuku asked, cutting to the chase. 

The man snorted, “Sure.”

Heading inside, Izuku was greeted with what was basically a ramen bar. “Grab a table and I’ll get the food,” Eraserhead murmured and all Izuku could do was nod sleepily. 

Izuku picked a high-top table in the corner where they could both sit with their backs against the wall and see everything. He sat and folded his arms on the table, resting his chin there. The restaurant wasn’t particularly busy since it was an odd hour, but there were a few random people there. 

The cook was running on something though, because it seemed like only a couple minutes before Eraser found him with two warm bowls. “Thank you,” Izuku muttered before stuffing his face with noodles. 

They ate in silence which seemed like something they both needed. 

When Izuku woke up the next morning, he would feel deeply comforted by the memory of that dinner .

Chapter Text

Izuku split his attention between work and constantly telling himself he couldn’t do something stupid. 

No matter how much he might want to. 

It wouldn’t accomplish anything. 

Figuring out just where and when to strike would. 

— — — — —

Izuku felt like he hadn’t blinked in years, but anytime he thought about pulling away from his computer screen and taking a break, he thought about what Eraser was enduring at the moment and he threw himself back in harder. 

He started with looking through quirk registries for a disintegration quirk and any ways that it might be intentionally misreported. 

When that didn’t work, he started breaking into orphanages’ databases. They didn’t have a centralized database because even a society of gods and monsters couldn’t take care of their children. So instead he started digging through their incident reports and corresponding complaints that were filed with local precincts. 

It made Izuku sick thinking of all the kids that were just tossed aside without a second thought. 

His search was successful though, he found Tenko Shimura which piqued his interest. 

It should have made him sick, what this child did to his family, but instead he felt tears welling in his eyes at how terrified he must have been. Izuku hated it. 

Izuku knew when All for One came into the picture because the vicious way that the adults in the orphanage documented his ‘offenses’ suddenly stopped completely. 

Izuku sighed and rubbed his face with his hands before diving back because people didn’t just disappear. Not for him at least. 

Using the same initials he cast a wide search across social media sites which unfortunately came back with too many results. Staring at the list of possible accounts, Izuku took a minute and thought. The kid was probably a teenager and obviously would have poor social skills and would be isolated if he was so high up in All for One’s ranks…

Video games.

There you are .

Once Izuku had him, he joined the boy’s Call of Duty mission and while he ran his standard actions in the game, he used himself as a trojan horse to get onto the kid’s gaming system. 

Izuku grinned, he had the IP address and put that into his software which ran it and brought back a location. 

One thing about running on no sleep and revenge is that your ideas get a little strange after a while, which is why he promptly put the coordinates into google earth. 

Dumpster jumped into his lap as he clicked through the different views and angles working at the bar. 

He sunk his fingers into her fur as he blinked his dry eyes. The bar looked normal if not close to a dive, but Izuku was sure the place was a fucking compound. 

Izuku sighed and leaned back, petting Dumpster with both hands and considering his options. More surveillance would be a good idea, reporting this to the hero commission, or even the pro heroes who were on good terms with Eraserhead, would be a good idea. But when he considered how much time it would take, the way bureaucracy would slow them down, the likelihood that he’d be arrested on sight… 

He scratched under Dumpster’s chin and thought of his mother, and the man she raised him to be. Someone uncaring, someone who couldn’t be broken or defeated, a worthy heir. 

Izuku didn’t think he was any of those things, but perhaps he could play the role…

It was time to do something really fucking stupid . 

— — — — — 

Izuku was armed to the teeth, having prepared himself for war. 

He had his usual fare of knives and added his capture weapon, pistols, and grenades. He had been lurking for a few hours now, since the sun had set, watching the movements of the people inside for a pattern. The heat/night vision goggles helped. 

It seemed like the bar had emptied out for the most part, people leaving in search of fun in other parts of town. With a breath, Izuku dropped in. 

Izuku didn’t like himself for what had happened next. 

He fought ruthlessly and cut through everyone in his way. Half of it was muscle memory, half was a refusal to back down. He was leaving with Aizawa. 

Under normal circumstances, he would advocate arrest, trial, and rehabilitation. When he came across villains who were obviously young or children, he did his best to knock them out or disarm them without lethal force, but there were certain instances where he couldn’t escape it. 

The building changed drastically the farther he traveled until he found a completely sterile corridor with stainless steel everywhere. Izuku kept going until he reached an unmarked door. Taking a chance, he pulled it open and found what was essentially a sensory deprivation room. Izuku looked around quickly and saw wall-mounted rings that could be used for handcuffs or shackles. He was in the right place. 

He ducked back out of the room and tore down the hall wasting no time, he opened one door after the other until he had almost reached the end of the hall and he found it. Found him. 

Aizawa was chained up –in the air– blood dripping down his body. 

Izuku rushed in and immediately went to the system that was restraining Aizawa. It was a wench system that the chains and shackles were on and without a second more he released it. Aizawa crumpled to the ground, his body limp. 

Izuku ran the few short steps to him and turned him over. He was so pale, there were cuts everywhere, burns everywhere, blood everywhere. It was so bad and Izuku hated it. He ran his fingers over Aizawa’s hair, they snagged on some mats and tangles and some part of Izuku’s heart broke at that. He pulled his mask off and pressed a kiss to Aizawa’s forehead. The tears didn’t fall– they wouldn’t, instead, he swore to whatever higher power would let this happen to one of his people that they would all pay. 

He used the capture weapon to fasten the taller man to his chest like a koala. Izuku could feel his shallow breaths on his neck and that made some of the tension in his shoulders ebb away. 

There wasn’t time for much more, he had to finish the job and ensure that these people never touched a hair on Aizawa’s head ever again.

He went deeper into the base until he found the door with the most security. He broke that motherfucker down.  

What he found was the stuff of nightmares. 

The walls were lined with incubators which were filled with… something not quite human in different stages of growth. And at the end of the makeshift ‘hall’ was All For One. 

Izuku wasn’t even sure what he was seeing, it didn’t seem human. 

The realization that he wasn’t wearing his mask, that he had left it, hit him like a freight train. 

“Izuku? Is that you son?” All For One asked, his voice warbling, wavering, and changing in a way that sent shivers down Izuku’s spine. “You’ve finally come home,” All For One said, choking on a cough. 

He felt Aizawa’s weight shift against his chest and the coughing intensified when he must’ve activated his quirk. In response, Izuku pulled the pin out of the grenade with his teeth. He ran like the hounds of hell were chasing him. 

…

“Zu?” A broken voice asked. 

Izuku looked down to find Aizawa trying his hardest to open his eyes all the way. 

“It’s okay, baby. I got you,” Izuku soothed. He tried not to cry out when Shouta’s eyes slipped closed and he went still, instead, he pushed himself farther and faster.

Chapter Text

Izuku barely knew where he was going, he just let muscle memory take him there. 

He crashed in through a window uncaringly, and when his eyes landed on Mei he started babbling uncontrollably. 

“Help him, he needs help, he needs help,” Izuku repeated it over and over like a mantra. Or a miracle he needed to come true. 

“Okay, okay,” Mei tried to reassure him but he was too frantic. He brought Aizawa over to the work table Mei kept clear just for times like these, he loosened the capture weapon carefully and let Aizawa fall gently onto the surface. 

“What happened?” Mei asked and Izuku tried to think back to that room what he had seen. He couldn’t think past the white noise in his mind. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know. They were torturing him. He’s got cuts and burns and bruises and–” Izuku choked as the images came back. “There– There was a car battery.”

“Okay, hopefully, that means that there’s no internal bleeding. Let’s get him patched up and then we can start doing scans to cover our asses if need be,” Mei told him and it helped– it really did. 

But the problem was she had moved him out of the way and he couldn’t see Aizawa again and suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. 

Then the lights went out. 

…

Izuku rolled over and puked. He had half curled into a ball around the retching. 

When it finally stopped it seemed like all the muscles in his torso hurt. Blearily he opened his eyes and looked around. He was at Mei’s.

“Mei?” He croaked. “Mei?”

“Hey Zuzu, you feeling better after getting your stomach out?” She stood just beyond the horrible-smelling puddle and leaned in to push his sweaty bangs off his forehead. 

“I guess,” he muttered the words half-formed. 

“When you gave me Eraserhead’d run down you failed to mention that you hadn’t eaten in days, hadn’t slept, and were dangerously dehydrated,” his friend scolded. Izuku was pretty sure if he didn’t look so pitiful at the moment she would probably smack him. 

“Sorry.”

“For doing that to yourself or getting caught?” Mei countered with a cocked brow. 

Izuku just grumbled incoherently. 

“I’ve got you on an IV so stay put, I’m keeping an eye on your boy so just sleep.” She ran her fingers through his hair again and it was more than enough for him to drop off into sleep again. 

…

“What day is it?” Izuku asked Mei the next time he woke up. She was sitting in a chair next to where he was laying with a sketchbook. 

She glanced at her watch, “It’s been about three days, you two have been asleep for almost all of it.”

“I feel better,” Izuku said flatly, mostly to himself. 

“Good,” Mei said absentmindedly, she had gone back to her drawing. 

“The IV is gone,” Izuku observed. 

“It is, you should be good now but I recommend eating a good meal as soon as you can.”

“Thank you for dealing with us,” Izuku said. Mei just chuckled. 

“Who else is going to do it?” She joked. Izuku hesitated, he probably couldn’t beat around the bush any longer. 

“How is he?”

“In and out of consciousness. There wasn’t any severe internal bleeding, just some nasty bruises,” Mei reported. 

“Can I take him?” Izuku asked, nervous for the answer.

Mei sighed, “Yeah, just don’t do anything stupid.”

“You know me,” he said, sitting up, “I’m perfectly responsible.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute is what you are.” Mei cackled at the face Izuku must have made. 

…

Having decided to be as normal as possible about things, Izuku strapped an unconscious Aizawa to his back with the capture weapon like one would a baby. 

So normal.

He made his way from Mei’s to his apartment slowly, keeping to alleys and shadows. His top priorities were avoiding being seen and avoiding jostling Aizawa too much. A lot of his injuries had needed stitches. 

Slow and steady won the race. 

He let himself into his apartment, sidestepping Dumpster to go back to his bedroom. 

He set Aizawa down no less haphazardly than when he had arrived at Mei’s, but hey, he tried. 

Izuku situated him as gently as possible and checked his bandages over to make sure the stitches had stayed intact during their journey before digging some soft blankets out of his closet and draping them onto the man. 

With that taken care of, Izuku just stood there, in the middle of his own bedroom. When his thoughts started thinking he quickly grabbed a change of clothes and left, walking out to the main area of the apartment. 

Aizawa didn’t stir at all, leaving Izuku to pace about his apartment in his pajamas. It didn’t take long for him to feel ready to start climbing walls so instead he fed Dumpster and then himself. Dumpster jumped on the table and then proceeded to demand all the pets that Izuku had failed to give. He had apparently been shirking his duty because she came close to climbing over his plate to get more attention. 

He scooped her up and held her close to his chest like a baby and continued eating. 

Until a loud thump echoed through the place.

In hindsight, it was stupid that Izuku’s first instinct was to hold Dumpster closer and shield her head with his hand. 

Aizawa came stumbling out of Izuku’s room with a knife in his hand which was impressive given that he had the majority of his weapons on him when they arrived. He realized hiding them under the bathroom sink might not have been his best move when he identified the knife Aizawa was holding– it was one of his first and favorites. 

“What the fuck kind of trick is this?” He snarled. Izuku watched him try to activate his quirk before grimacing and letting it drop.

“This isn’t a trick,” Izuku said evenly, being careful not to move. 

Aizawa blinked, “Wraith?”

Izuku held his breath, “Yeah?”

“Why am I here?” He asked, lowering the knife only slightly. 

“You were kidnapped,” Izuku took a breath, trying to get his head on straight for this, “I rescued you and brought you to Hatsume Mei for medical care. I brought you back here when Mei said you were well enough to move.” 

“Why?”

“I’m not sure if I had to guess the yakuza wanted you out of the area. I didn’t stop to figure it out, I was just trying to recover you as quickly as possible–” Izuku quickly devolved into a muttered rant, petting Dumpster as he thought. 

“Wraith?”

“Wraith?”

“Wraith!” Izuku’s head snapped up and he met Aizawa’s eye. 

“That’s not what I meant.” There seemed like there was some sort of emotion in Aizawa’s eyes but Izuku couldn’t grasp what. “Why was it you?”

“I–” Izuku stopped himself and sighed, “I don’t know, it’s possible I was just the first one to connect the dots.”

“Is that what they’re calling murder now?” Aizawa’s voice was emotionless, but Izuku still tensed.

Without breaking eye contact, he stood, set Dumpster down, and let her wander off before he started taking measured steps toward Aizawa. He only stopped when their noses were practically brushing. 

“Do you want me to apologize for what I did?” Izuku asked, voice barely louder than an exhale but equally as neutral. 

Aizawa stayed quiet, whether it was because he didn’t want to answer or couldn’t, Izuku couldn’t say. 

“I won’t because I’d do it again, over and over for you. Only for you,” Izuku’s jaw was set, just like his shoulders, he wouldn’t repent for this. 

“You don’t know me,” Aizawa pointed out, the knife now solidly at his side. 

“I disagree,” Izuku stated, Aizawa answering with a raised brow. “You’re the person I have the most fun with, the person who's taken care of me, the person who's made sure I’m safe even when I do something dangerous and illegal. Not to mention the million other things that I won’t bother listing, but trust me, I remember.” Izuku was on a roll now. “If not for you, then who?”

“Vigilantism is one thing, murder is another,” Aizawa countered. 

Izuku pushed impossibly closer, “I would kill each one of them again if it brought me to you if it got your safety.”

In the blink of an eye, Aizawa’s mouth crashed into his. Izuku faltered for a moment before giving as good as he got right back. 

Before either of them knew what had happened, Izuku was backed against a wall, and Aizawa pressed against him. Their hands roamed freely over the other, exploring, touching, teasing. 

Aizawa’s groaned when Izuku’s hands slipped into his hair and tugged just right. He pulled away from his mouth and started pressing kisses into his jaw, down his neck, until he reached the juncture between Izuku’s shoulder and his neck. 

Aizawa bit down.

Izuku moaned. 

At some point, Aizawa had notched one of his thighs in between Izuku’s legs and the friction was delicious. He could feel Aizawa’s own erection against his hip, and that’s what snapped Izuku out of it. He pushed the man away from him just a bit, they were both panting, but the newfound oxygen let them both come back down to earth. 

God, he shouldn’t be this hot, Izuku thought painfully. Aizawa’s hair was a mess, his lips were swollen and red, and his pupils were blown wide . In all honesty, Izuku thought he probably looked about the same. 

“We can’t do this now.” Izuku whispered and the other meaning of that hit him like a train, “Not that I don’t want to!” He felt his cheeks flush hot. “I just mean that we can’t do anything right now, your stitches need to stay in so you can heal.” 

Aizawa looked like he just had a bucket of cold water dumped on him. “Right, right, that’s smart.” The words were breathless and Izuku couldn’t help but preen a little at that. 

“Do you want something to eat?” Izuku asked, trying to get their minds off the present situation– neither of them had moved. 

“You,” Aizawa answered without reservation, and impossibly, Izuku thought his cheeks flushed hotter. He managed to control himself and just huff. 

“Aizawa,” he scolded lightly. 

“Shouta,” the man corrected. 

“Shouta,” Izuku said, a little giddy, but the feeling soon faded when he was reminded of something. “Shouta, why did you call me ‘Zu’?”

“When?”

“Back when I rescued you, you came to and you asked for ‘Zu’.” Izuku cocked his head. He watched the gears turn in Aizawa’s mind before he seemed to accept it. 

“I may have figured out who you were– By accident! I promise.” Aizawa looked so earnest that Izuku couldn’t help but be swayed to believe him… just a little. 

“How?”

“Shinsou Hitoshi,” at Izuku’s raised brow, Aizawa continued, “I’m mentoring him at our agency and we became close, he showed me pictures of his friends.”

Izuku connected the dots. 

“I suppose I can’t hold that against you,” Izuku muttered. 

“I know something you can, though,” Aizawa teased and started pressing light kisses against any skin that he could reach. 

Izuku giggled– he giggled , and he was fucking baffled that this was what Aizawa brought out in him. 

“Let me feed you,” Izuku murmured, not wanting to break their little bubble. “Come on,” he insisted and slipped out of Aizawa– Shouta’s hold. The other man followed at a distance, and as Izuku started fluttering about the kitchen and pulling things out to make some stir-fried rice, he could feel Shouta’s eyes burning a hole through him. 

The food was ready soon enough, and Izuku found Shouta sitting at the counter so he set the plates out there and brought the pot over. 

“Thank you,” Shouta said genuinely. They ate in silence, Izuku quietly reveling in Shouta’s presence in his apartment. 

“So,” Shouta hedged when they were both done, “When can my stitches come out?” The man was smirking, clearly feeling devious and all Izuku could do was snort in response. 

Chapter Text

Shouta had made a good recovery, despite being impatient. At some point, he decided to use Izuku as a pillow.

The first time Shouta tried it, Izuku stared at him with narrowed eyes. He was sitting at the kotatsu in the living room rather than on his laptop. He had his laptop in front of him and was catching up on emails. Shouta had gotten off the couch, ignoring the TV that he had left on, and padded over. The man resembled an overgrown cat as he stared back at Izuku, head resting on his thigh before he eventually rolled closer and pressed his face into Izuku’s stomach. 

The second time was late one night, Shouta stumbled out from Izuku’s bedroom where he was supposed to be staying. Izuku was laid out on the couch and was flipping through one of his books as he tried to settle in and sleep. 

Izuku heard the shuffling steps of Shouta’s socked feet as soon as he had gotten up, but had decided to let whatever happened happen. 

They locked eyes and Shouta blinked slowly, “You wear glasses,” he whispered hoarsely. 

“Yeah…” Izuku answered hesitantly, but Shouta didn’t say anything else. He just stepped around the side of the couch before falling, consciously, on top of Izuku. He wiggled himself in between Izuku and the couch, spreading his limbs over Izuku’s body. 

Shouta’s contented huff of breath broke Izuku out of the surprise snuggles-induced daze and he pulled another blanket off of the back of the couch and spread it over Shouta so he wouldn’t get cold. 

They spent the entire night like that. Neither of them stirred. 

…

After a week, they had fallen into an easy routine. The other’s presence was an anchor that they both needed to recover and begin to put everything behind them. 

Izuku didn’t fully realize how much it had impacted him until a little over a week had passed and Shouta’s stitches came out. They were in the bathroom, going through the motions of their morning when Shouta suddenly stopped. The sutures had dissolved and were beginning to fall out, so like any reasonable person, he pulled. 

They came out readily. 

They both knew that he would have to keep taking it easy for a while longer, but they still froze, just staring at each other, the implications racing through both of their minds. 

“You…” Izuku coughed, clearing his throat, “You should call your friends.” They had both skirted around the topic. Shouta did it because he wanted to avoid two additional people fussing over him, and Izuku because he didn’t want to lose any of the time they had together. 

“You’re probably right,” Shouta agreed. 

Neither of them moved. 

Before Izuku knew it, tears were blurring his vision. He felt like an idiot– for his reaction and his feelings. 

Wordlessly, Shouta edged closer slowly until Izuku could feel his breath. He carefully gripped Izuku’s chin and tilted his head back. Their foreheads pressed together and they just breathed together. 

“What’s eating you?” Shouta asked gently. 

“It’s over,” Izuku breathed out. Shouta waited for him to continue but Izuku choked on his words. 

“Nothing is over,” Shouta declared. “I’m going to call Mic and make sure he knows I’m fine but that I don’t want to be bothered and then I’m going to cook you breakfast.”

Izuku swallowed the lump in his throat. “Promise?”

“Oh, I pinky promise,” Shouta said gravely.

Izuku laughed wetly, “That’s very serious, Eraserhead.”

“Oh, I am,” Shouta whispered before he pressed a kiss to Izuku’s nose. 

Izuku offered the man his phone, and they parted so Shouta could make his call. Izuku was left to stare in the mirror. A week ago they had joked that they would sleep together when Shouta’s stitches came out, instead, everything is going to change and Shouta is going to go back to his life– his life without Izuku. 

“Zashi, it’s me.” Shouta’s voice floated through the apartment to Izuku who closed his eyes. No more tears came, instead, Izuku let resolve fall over him. 

His parents might not have given him much, but they did give him the strength to protect what was his. 

…

Izuku sat at the counter and watched Shouta cook, the sounds of spoons scraping and eggs frying seemed almost hypnotic. It made Izuku think how much had changed, and it was proof that Shouta had become so much more comfortable here over his time with Izuku.

They ate in silence, and Izuku couldn’t be bothered by it, his thoughts were too loud. 

Unfortunately, he was also a little too distracted to notice Shouta watching him. 

“Are you alright?” Izuku jumped, looking over at Shouta. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Izuku swallowed and they were both silent before Izuku latched onto anything to say. “What did Present Mic say?”

Shouta grunted and shrugged, “He’s glad I’m okay, but wasn’t exactly happy when I didn’t tell him where I was.”

“What? Why didn’t you?” Izuku sat up straight,

Shouta snorted, “I didn’t want him to break the door down.”

“You didn’t have to do that. If you wanted to see him you could,” Izuku said quietly. He felt small and he hated it. He wanted to start planning, wanted to keep Shouta here, but some part of him was… tired .

He had killed for Shouta. He didn’t regret it, and knowing that Shouta didn’t seem to be bothered by it was a relief, but it didn’t feel like there was anything left for more. Tears started to prick behind his eyes. 

“I– wanted to stay,” Shouta answered hesitantly. 

“Why?” Izuku asked quietly, brow furrowed. 

“Have you considered, Izuku, that I’m not so different from you?”

“What?” Izuku sniffled. He watched Aizawa– Shouta lean in and pull Izuku’s chair closer to his own. They were practically on top of each other. 

“I want you,” Shouta spoke the words heavily, but without reserve. “I want you without any masks or aliases or outside obligations. Just you and me.”

“That sounds a lot like a proposal, Aizawa.” Izuku was trying to ground them, but the words came out shaky. They both knew that there wasn’t any pulling back from this, not anymore. That understanding passed between the two of them, and when Shouta’s hands settled around Izuku’s hips and grip, Izuku went willingly into the other man’s lap. 

“And if it is?” Shouta’s grip tightened just the slightest bit, and Izuku watched his eyes darken. 

“I’d tell you to prove it to me before you make more promises,” Izuku rasped. 

Shouta’s answering grin was as sharp as one of Izuku’s knives. “Oh, I’d be more than happy to, baby.” 

Shouta stood, wrapping his arms around Izuku and Izuku wrapped his legs around Shouta in answer. Shouta walked them back to the bedroom, and dumped Izuku on the bed, chuckling when he squeaked. 

Shouta lay over him slowly, crawling up his body and planting random kisses. His pupils were blown, and Izuku was sure he didn’t look any more presentable. Shouta was downright predatory like he wanted to eat Izuku whole, it made him squirm just thinking about it– Shouta noticed. 

“What do you want, baby?” Izuku’s scattered brain was distracted by the sound of his voice, it was gravelly and raw– only a few steps away from being wrecked. 

“Hm?” Shouta questioned when Izuku didn’t respond, “What can I do for you?”

“Everything,” Izuku breathed out. Shouta moved away from where he was pressing kisses into the jut of his hip bones. Shouta prowled up his chest, a grin on his face, and Izuku finally got what he wanted. 

Shouta pressed their mouths together, Izuku immediately swiping his tongue over the seam of the other man’s lips. He opened readily, letting the kiss deepen as they explored each other. Izuku felt like he was on fire, he threaded his fingers through Shouta’s hair, scratching his scalp with blunt nails before pulling on the strands eliciting a delicious moan from the man. Izuku swallowed it readily, and when they broke apart, desperate for air, Izuku squirmed under the weight of Shouta. 

Shouta shifted, helping Izuku find friction, and when he did, he let out a breathy moan which Shouta swallowed greedily. He pulled away, leaving Izuku panting, hips grinding haphazardly. 

“Naked, now.” Izuku declared. Shouta got up, sitting back on his haunches. They both peeled their shirts off and threw them away. Shouta leaned forward and untied the drawstring of Izuku’s sweats, glancing up as he tugged them and his underwear away. Izuku’s breath hitched, whether it was because of the sudden chill on his skin or the satisfied look on Shouta’s face. 

Izuku had had a few one-night stands here and there with people he wasn’t under any obligation to see again, and for the most part, it had been… okay. Pleasing, certainly, but nothing like what was happening now when Izuku felt like he was going to implode. 

Shouta for his part wasn’t far behind, drinking the image of Izuku naked in like a man dying of thirst. 

“Baby,” he breathed out, “You’re so beautiful.”

Izuku whimpered. 

He whimpered.  

Shouta dove back in and captured his mouth. The kiss was wet, hot, and filthy. Izuku loved it. They were pressed together so closely that when Izuku shifted his torso to deepen the kiss, their erections pressed together. Both men moaned, breaking apart to look at their laps. 

“What are you waiting for?” Izuku taunted, “Fuck me already.” Izuku had no idea where in the fucking hell that came from, but was immediately grateful for it when Shouta all but ripped his pants trying to get them off. 

“Lube?” Shouta asked when he pounced on Izuku again. 

“No, I– Didn’t think this was gonna happen,” Izuku says, suddenly sheepish. 

“I’m clean, are you?” Shouta questions bluntly.

“Yes,” Izuku squeaks, now flushed for a different reason. 

“That’s one problem out of the way,” Shouta stops, taking stock of Izuku for a moment. “I can think of another way to solve the other.” Izuku blinked. 

Shouta smirked and crawled down Izuku’s body, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” He waited until Izuku nodded shakily before he proceeded to lick a strip up Izuku’s cock, making him jerk before settling back and gasping. 

Shouta goes on like that for the next few minutes– or years– Izuku couldn’t tell or care. All he knew was the wet heat of Shouta’s mouth and the sparks racing down his spine. Just when he’s sure he can’t take it any longer, he threads his fingers through Aizawa’s hair and yanks him off. 

“As much as I like what’s happening,” Izuku pants, “I don’t know how this is supposed to solve the lube problem. 

Shouta hums, “You’re right, I got distracted.” 

With that, Shouta quickly grabbed a pillow, shoving it under Izuku’s hits so he could be propped up by it. Izuku was too focused on not vibrating out of his skin to realize what Shouta was doing at first. 

It became very clear when Izuku felt the flat of Shouta’s tongue against his hole. 

With the pleasantries out of the way, Shouta ate Izuku out like a starving man, until Izuku felt like screaming. Until he was writhing on the bed. 

His orgasm was so close, and then Shouta pulled away. There were no coherent thoughts left in Izuku’s mind to stifle the whine that clawed out of his throat. 

“Look at you, baby,” Shouta growled. Izuku’s blown out pupils focused on the man, belatedly registering the words. “So wet and open for me.” He pressed hot kisses onto Izuku’s thighs. Izuku groaned, it quickly turned into a whimper when he felt the head of Shouta’s cock pressing against his hole. 

“Faster,” Izuku panted, “More.”

Shouta’s sharp intake of breath was loud, “You sure?”

Izuku whined, “More.”

Shouta pushed in, all the way to the hilt. The fullness had Izuku curling his toes and moaning loudly. He had purposefully never thought about what it would be like to sleep with Shouta, avoided the topic altogether, but he should’ve known the man would be hung . Or maybe Izuku was small, he couldn’t really give a fuck at the moment because all he knew was feeling like he was going to catch fire. 

Shouta set a brutal pace, the sound of skin colliding almost violently in the peace of the apartment. Izuku had already come so close to the edge so many times, that it didn’t take much for him to be right back up there again. 

“Shouta, shoutashoutashouta ,” Izuku was babbling, sure that he was half out of his mind. 

The man groaned, “You’re so good, baby. The best. Love the way you say my name. You feel so good.”  Shouta leaned over and kissed him, it was mostly tongue and teeth with the rhythm they were trying to keep up. It was messy and dirty, and Izuku fucking loved it. When Shouta shifted just enough, Izuku saw stars. 

Shouta chuckled, but it was barely more than a breath. He started on a path across Izuku’s jaw, kisses and hickies. Izuku groaned when Shouta got down to his neck. 

“You’re mine, Izuku, and I’m yours.” The press of teeth and the assault on Izuku’s prostate pushed him over the edge. His vision whited out and he screamed.  

…

Izuku came back to himself slowly, and truthfully, even when he did he still felt fuzzy around the edges. 

He was laid across Shouta with his head resting on the other man’s chest. Izuku got distracted by the measured rise and fall, he smiled and pressed his face into Shouta’s neck. 

“You back?”

Izuku just hummed in response, trying to ignore the smile tugging on his lips. 

They were both silent after that, just enjoying the afterglow until something occurred to Izuku. “Did you mean what you said?” he asked softly. 

“About you?”

“Yeah,” Izuku confirmed, suddenly nervous. 

“I did,” Shouta dropped a kiss on Izuku’s curls. “Whatever happens, it’s you and me.”

“Good,” Izuku said, feeling something within him– something possessive– settle in for the long haul.