#x midsize reader

"where ya goin'? class just ended, sweetie."

"i can't stay," you said quickly, heeled boots clicking rapidly against the floor. you'd dress so cute that—polka-dot glasses, a pink off-the-shoulder sweater, black skirt, and knee-high boots that really captured the prime look of a college girl! and it was being wasted because this motherfucker was ogling you. "i have to go back to my dorm."

"why? need an escort?"

"no, i know the way."

"well, someone might hassle you."

"somebody already is hassling me."

"huh?" that made naoya pause—but only momentarily. once he realized what you meant, he fell back into step behind you, seeming even more determined than before. "got some bite on you. i like that. lot of women don't know when they should play it easy or hard to get—you do."

you hated when guys couldn't just take no for an answer the first time. because that meant you had to use the next excuse up your sleeve—

"my boyfriend wouldn't like that you're following me. i really can't stay and talk, and i'd like it if you would kindly leave me alone."

you said it as curtly and politely as you could, then, before the surprised naoya could reboot and say anything else, you bolted through the doors of the humanities hall and out into the spring day.

campus was lively in the afternoon. there was ultimate frisbee and football being played, groups of friends on picnic blankets talking and tanning, girls swirling their boba and iced coffee as they commuted from classes and dorms—and there was ryomen's and a handful of his frat sitting on benches in the quad, lounging after smoking.

well, choso and geto were still slightly buzzed. toji hadn't taken a pass, and it took more than a few puffs to get to ryomen.

"oh my god, i can't feel my tongue," choso muttered, rubbing his eyes. his black mullet was shaggy, messed up, and he smelled like he'd been waterboarded in geto's cologne to cover up the post-smell of weed.

geto, sitting wide and strumming his guitar absently, grinned lazily. "you're too easy, man. second-hand molly in the wind would get you fucked."

"nuh-uh."

"uh-huh."

"shut the fuck up," toji muttered, waving his hand dismissively as he rubbed his face with the other. "i still have a goddamn headache."

"not our fault you hit your head on a fucking table last night," ryomen laughed.

toji groaned, turning his head to look off into the distance. the activity on campus only worsened his pulsing skull. "swear to god, 'm concussed or something. shouldn't have on that chair when i was drunk."

"you should've came." choso tapped ryomen's knee. "where were you?"

"with his giiiirrrllll," geto teased.

"yeah, yeah." ryomen didn't care if everyone in all of fucking tokyo knew he was whipped—he was whipped for you, his sweet little girlfriend. "not my fault i wanna spend one night of the weekend watchin' pretty woman again instead of watching toji crack his head open."

like he was summoned by his name, toji started shaking ryomen's shoulder. "dude."

"one sec—" ryomen was about to say something else to choso, but toji wrenched his arm to the side. "what the fuck! what?"

"look where i'm fuckin' looking." toji pointed across the quad. "isn't that—"

"holy shit," geto said when he saw you briskly walking and crying, like you were trying to escape someone—you had been.

choso frowned when he followed everyone's line of sight. "is that your girlfriend? why is she crying?"

"i... gotta go." ryomen got up from the bench without another word and started across the quad. when he realized how fast you were walking, he thanked god that he was an athlete and started running after you. "hey!"

when you hear a male voice, you automatically moved quicker, expecting it to be naoya again—but then it repeated, and you recognized ryomen.

"baby? hey, slow the hell down!"

fuck. you didn't want him to see you crying. think, think, think—

but it was too late. ryomen had reached you, grabbed you by the shoulder, and turned you around in an instant. "shit, thought i was going to lose you. what's—"

you couldn't held but sob even harder when he began to ask you what was wrong, and ryomen gaped at your puffy, round face, smudged mascara, and the salty streams of tears down your cheeks.

"oh god, angel. what's wrong? c'mere, can i hold you?"

as expected, since he had the biggest soft spot and change of attitude when he was with you, ryomen engulfed you in the comforting embrace of his arms and let you bury your face and ruined makeup against his racing jacket.

"ok, ok," he whispered softly against your hair as he stroked it. "deep breaths. in and out, yeah? gotta calm down and take proper breaths. can i see your purse, please, hon? don'tcha keep tissues in there?"

"i—" you wheezed slightly, trying not to choke on tears or words. "i was gonna wait inside until i looked for 'em..."

"all right, well, i'm here now. let me see."

carefully, he slipped your purse off your shoulder, located the pack of tissues inside, then extracted one so that he could dab your face gently. "there we go. better, hm? keep breathing f'me, just like that, pretty girl."

when you had calmed down enough to not explosively weep again, ryomen caressed the side of your face and asked, "tell me what happened."

you crossed your arms, lips pursed in a pout. "no."

you knew what he would do if you told him that naoya zenin bothered you...

"what? fuck you mean—" he inhaled slowly, then tried again, softer. "angel, how can i help if i don't know what's wrong? or—how are you gonna feel better if you don't talk about what made you cry like that? i mean, you were going pretty fast in those heels, i imagine something happened."

after a pause, he hardened. "did someone fucking do something to you?"

"ryo—"

"nah, don't give me that soft stuff. tell me who and what."

"it wasn't anything serious!" you insisted, holding him tightly. "seriously."

"tell. me."

"promise me you won't be mad!"

"no."

"ryo!"

"was it a guy?" he brushed a few hairs out of your face, grimacing. "i'll beat the shit out of him if it was."

"it was a small incident. small, that's it."

"or was it a girl? 'cuz satoshi's brother satoru knows a girl named shoko in pre-med, she'll fight anyone—unless you don't care if i do it, because i'll hit anyone you ask, babe—"

"stop!" you shook him slightly. "a guy kept following me around and bothering me, i just wanted him to go away—and he did! he just... overwhelmed me. i was scared."

ryomen stared at you when you finished speaking. he blinked a few times and nodded slowly, tongue against the inside of his cheek. "ok. yeah, ok."

you frowned, watching as his face contorted. "what?"

"this happened just now?"

"um... like ten minutes ago."

"where?"

you picked at your nails, growing nervous. "...the humanities building."

he'd turned on his heel without a second thought, and you hurried after him, having known he probably would've gone off the moment you gave him all the details, like a bloodhound with a scent for prey.

"wait—ryo! it's not that big of a deal!"

"not that big of a deal my ass." he was practically snarling.

who you didn't expect to see soon after ryomen was on his war path was the culprit himself. naoya was crossing the pavement, staring at his phone—but when he saw the tattooed, six-foot-four jock headed his general direction, he couldn't help but freeze. you also stopping, surprised and wary, was a dead giveaway on who the guy ryomen was looking for was.

ryomen glanced between naoya and you, then pointed. "him?"

you slowly let go of his arm, knowing there was little you could do to help the situation or stop your boyfriend. "yeah..."

calmly—too fucking calmly—he continued down the sidewalk until he was a few yards from naoya, then he nodded once and said, "hey, man."

naoya, contemplating fight or flight, tried to remain casual and nodded back. "hey..."

"wanna ask you—you bother that girl over there earlier?" he jutted a thumb over his shoulder, at your nervous figure in the distance.

"i didn't bother her. i was just talking to her."

"in what way."

"huh?"

"In what way—because you sound like a really shitty guy to talk to if she walked away crying."

"not my fault she didn't—"

before naoya could finish casting off whatever blame onto you, ryomen winded back a tight fist and clocked him in the nose.

naoya yowled in pain the moment the fist connected with his face, and he recoiled, hands snapping up to cover his soon-to-bleed nose. "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"ryomen!" you cried from behind him.

across the quad, it seemed that the others ryomen were with before had witnessed everything.

"ry!" toji waved a relaxed arm, like he knew ryomen had everything handled but still wanted to be nice and extend an offer. "good?"

ryomen cracked his knuckles, then wrung out his pulsing hand. "yeah, he shouted back. "good."

"is she ok?" choso called over, pointing at you.

"i'll take care of her."

"'kay, i guess." geto watched the entire thing with a skeptical look. "see you later."

without exchanging any words, ryomen returned to you and carted you up to his dorm. he was glad that you didn't protest or refuse to go with him—he surely thought you were mad at him, until you whispered the soft "thank you" to him at his door. he simply kissed your head and pushed the door open.

in his dorm, he insisted you clean while he ordered food. lounging in his bed, shirtless now and just in a pair of sweatpants, he scrolled on his phone while resting a hand on you. you'd positioned yourself beside him after cleaning off your tear-streaked makeup and changing into one of his hoodies.

"sushi and boba, or thai?" ryomen asked, rubbing slow circles on your thighs. he loved to grip the plush there, to kiss up from your calf to the softness of your belly—he would later, but right then, he was focused on getting you fed and rested, the two things he thought key in recovering from bad days. "wait. chinese?"

you ran a hand through his hair and leaned over to peck his cheek. "anything."

"you always say that, baby."

"i know."

"ok. sushi and boba."

you smiled. "i trained you right."

taking a moment, ryomen dropped his phone and grabbed your jaw to bring you in for a full, proper kiss that lasted until you were both breathless. and when you pulled away only slightly, hovering closely above him, lips still brushing, he licked his lips and smiled. "you're ok, right? not mad?"

"no," you said, tilting your head slightly. "not mad. maybe a little annoyed that you always jump to violence, but... i really appreciate you wanting to protect me. i know you just want me to be all right in the end."

"damn right i do. i love you, gorgeous."

smiling, you kissed him once more. "i love you too, ryo. now order the food before the place closes."

send me asks <3

buy me a kofi

in the car, you snatched up the aux. and when eijiro—iron gripping the steering wheel and trying to continuously sneak glances at you in the passenger seat while he navigated to the restaurant—when he heard the song you picked out, one of lana del rey's sultry, melancholic hits that you couldn't get enough of for some reason (it was a girl thing, you told him once), he knew you were in a mood.

it came on once when he had you in bed, full of his cock—the song just slipped in, and it had a hold on him somehow. he thrusted softer, held your side ever so much gently, tuned himself with the music so that he went between splitting you open on him and making you feel like the most loved woman in the world.

now, when you played the song again, he couldn't think about anything else but that memory. and he knew that you knew that, with the little smirk on your face, the way you shifted when his fingers dug into the plush skin of your thigh.

"'s a real nice dress, baby," he said. "i paid for this?"

"no, i did."

at that, he looked disappointed. "aw, what? but i literally changed out all the information on your accounts to be on my card!"

"eiji!" you lightly smacked his arm. "gosh. i can pay for things. i bought this from a place i don't usually shop at..."

he huffed, glanced at you again. "whatever. you make it look gorgeous."

the chorus faded in when you looked out the window, face warm. it would be a long evening of him and his sidelong looks and attempts at charming you.

god, he looked like he wanted to fucking eat you.

at the restaurant, you didn't expect to be shown to a bubble. kidding, not a bubble per say, but a private glass dome that allowed eijiro and you to enjoy a fine dining meal outside during the summer evening without the gnats and elements interrupting.

you started off with red wine, appetizers, a little something sweet to tide you over until the main dessert. the conversation was light, nice, romantic jazz and vocals drifting faintly from somewhere.

and the entire time, eijiro looked like he wanted to bite down on his butter knife. he kept scooting his chair over, shifting around, like you sitting across from him was the furthest distance you've ever been.

your teasing didn't help either. hiding your smile in your cup, swirling around the sour-sweet taste of wine, rubbing your heel up and down his calves, thighs, letting your hands wonder around his forearms and even reaching across to touch his bicep, making up the excuse that he had something on his blazer—and going as far to bunch forward, giving him a clear view of your cleavage.

you were killing him.

after the server came and took your orders for the main course, warned you two that the wait would be a while, you were alone with eijiro.

and as soon as the server had cleared a few empty plates off the pristine white tablecloth, left you alone in your private sanctuary for dinner niceties—eijiro took your teasing heel, which was snaking off the leg of his pants, and gently tugged your ankle up and against something.

your eyes were locked on each others, yours wide, his gaze heated. for a moment, you didn't know what he was doing. then, after foolishly pressing your heel down ever so slightly, you realized he had put your foot against the massive bulge he had.

thank god you were sitting.

"eijiro—" you tried to pull your ankle away, but his grip didn't let up.

"you gotta c'mere on this side of the table and help me out, baby. i'm dying."

"you are not! i'm not moving, we're in public."

"can't finish what you started? you were acting all coy before, dancing around our room in your nightie and then that dress, then playing that one song..."

"i was doing nothing," you lied, trying not to smile again.

"well, you did something. and now i need your help with it."

"it's embarrassing, eiji. what if we get caught?"

"i'll get caught either if i have to stand up and show off this massive—"

"okay, stop it!"

you quickly scooted your chair over, girlishly giggling and trying to hide the fact that, yeah, you were getting off on this—helping him? in public? you'd only read about things like this.

"shit, gorgeous. thank you, thank you." eijiro groaned as you unzipped his fly, nudged his boxers down, then eased out his thick cock, hard and leaking.

"i didn't mean to..." you stared longingly for a moment, paused at the sight of him.. "do that."

"guess you're more magical than you thought."

eijiro leaned over to kiss you and, fortunately concealed by being under the table, you began pumping him. dry at first, then with a coating of spit that made it easier to milk him up and down.

the entire time, eijiro was trying to conceal himself and keep quiet. your hands felt too good on him, and you looked so pretty beside him, pliant and willing to help—

the server came to check on you twice. each time, you were composed and overly smile-y, and eijiro had to struggle to keep himself structured while he nodded along about the meal and things going smoothly.

he hoped for the server's sake that he didn't make much of a mess.

thankfully, when he did come, spurting some over your hand and staining the tablecloth, nothing was very noticeable, and he let out the biggest sigh, taking deep, relieved breaths.

"thank you, baby... i love you. i'm not going easy on you when we get home, though. you know what you did."

send me asks <3

mina had been needling you about how well you performed out in the field and, less desiredly, about how eijiro had been watching you.

it was no secret to her that you had a huge crush on him—but what she hadn't told you that sero confided in her about eijiro's confession to him about liking you a few weeks ago...

your friends loved you, they did. and they wanted you and eijiro to figure out things for yourselves. but, god, did they wish you weren't two oblivious idiots in love.

"you're just saying that," you said, absentmindedly spritzing perfume around yourself after changing into your uniform. it was one that eijiro told you he liked the scent of during your first year—and you hadn't changed brands since.

"no, i'm not! you did seriously well out there, and you need to stop doubting yourself." mina playfully nudged you when she passed by, a smile on her face. "everyone else noticed. hell, i think you even gave todoroki a run for his money."

"i mean..." you stared at your reflection in the mirror attached to your locker door. briefly, you saw a young hero, not just yourself. however, underneath that image, you were still just that—you. "i definitely feel stronger! i'm glad others are noticing it too—"

"like kirishima?" mina asked teasingly.

"and others," you clarified quickly, though you couldn't ignore the heat that warmed your face. "but, yes, like him."

"ohmygodddd, please just go out with him already! you've had the biggest crush forever, and i'm sick of seeing you two dance around a relationship every time you interact."

"mina—" you barely dodged the hairbrush she threw, laughing. "stop it! i'm... thinking about how to go about it, that's all!" "uh-huh." her body fell casually against the lockers, causing a metal thud. "and thinking takes over a month?"

your smile dimmed, which she noticed immediately.

"hey... sorry. i didn't mean it like that. you can't rush these kinds of things, i know that."

"it's not that." you shook your head, apologetic. "it's ok. i'm just not sure that..."

you couldn't help but sigh as you admitted the truth aloud to another person besides yourself.

"i'm not sure he's into girls like me. i'm probably not his type."

mina squinted skeptically. "whaddya his type?"

"like, a girl who's more active and... i don't know, muscle-y and always at the gym, never letting up on herself to be the best—"

"woah, woah, woah." mina grabbed your shoulder and shut the door to your locker. she didn't seem to approve of how you scrutinized your round face in the mirror. "ok, first of all, you're talking like an insane person. kirishima isn't that kind of guy, i don't think he just cares about looks."

"of course he doesn't! but looks play a factor into what kind of girls guys like, and i don't think my appearance exactly... entices him."

"ok, before you say anything—" mina grabbed both of your shoulders then, like she was prepared to shake some serious sense into you. "it doesn't matter if you're bigger or smaller than the average girl, or that there even is an average size for girls. what matters is that you work out—i mean, you're on track to being a pro! but besides that, you work out, you're healthy, you try to be the best person you can be. you're kind and beautiful, and i don't want you to diminish any chance you think you have because self-doubt gets in the way!"

you wiped the tears that had snuck onto your cheeks, smiling gently. you got insecure once in a while, everyone did, but you were glad you had mina as a best friend to make you feel better.

"thanks," you murmured.

"don't mention it." mina tried to lighten the mood, smiling again and quickly grabbing her shirt to put on. "c'mon, let's get out of here and get a drink."

little to your knowledge, while you and her were talking and preparing to leave the locker room, an innocent bystander outside had overheard everything—eijiro kirishima, to be exact, who nearly dropped the red bean mochi he'd packed just for you after training.

and his mind was already racing. you thought he wouldn't like you? you? the girl of his damn dreams?

by god, he thought you were out of his league! bakugo reminded him that you probably were every time he got caught staring at you!

you were the sweetest girl to exist to him, friendly and considerate of everyone around you... before everyone else, you were his first choice in everything! he wanted to choose you! he wanted you to know how he felt—

but i failed, he thought, caught in a moment of realization. i haven't been man enough to let her know that i think she's perfect for me.

he almost dropped the pair of mochi when the door swung open, your sweet laugh mixing with mina's as the two of you came out.

"hey!" he greeted you nervously, a little too loud. thrusting one of the mochi out, he said, "got this for you!"

mina said something he couldn't catch into your ear, and you elbowed her with a large grin. "thanks, eiji. that's really nice of you."

he didn't say anything as he fell into step with the two of you, and was like a stiff board of wood while you got drinks until a few of his friends came along and lightened the mood. all eijiro could think about how much more of an effort he had to make in order to catch your attention.

and he did his very best to amend for his lacking action beforehand. there wasn't a morning or passing period you weren't walked to class or the dorms, or a day that went by when he didn't compliment you. just little things about your strength, your body, your hair—small compliments that he hoped built up to let you know that he thought you were gorgeous and amazing, midsize or not.

luckily, everything did pay off, because when he got the guts to ask you out a few weeks later, you said yes without a moment's hesitation. <3

send me asks!