In a world where your value is placed on your Quirk, what happens when you're quirkless? A fork in the road. Izuku Midoriya became a hero, (Y/n) (L/n) became a villain. When faced with a man who had the attitude of a villain and the fortitude of a h...
I don't own anything except any original characters (including the Reader's concept) and/or any original plot
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Author Birthday Special
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A/n: My birthday was on Saturday (the 18th) and not only am I now 16, I also got a really good idea for a oneshot. I've been super busy this week, but finally found time to write this! This isn't canon to the story. There are mentions of things that are/will be canon, but the oneshot itself isn't canon.
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Waking up was always a pain, but that was the teenager side of you more than anything. Feeling surprisingly well rested, you reached over to shut off the annoying sound of the alarm next to you-
You never set an alarm. None of the league would have set one either because there was nothing important going on. If there was, you'd know.
Shooting up in bed - bed! You didn't have a bed, you had a pile of blankets - you looked at the room around you. It was Bakugou's room in UA. You'd been in there plenty of times, and knew the plain walls and single All Might poster well enough.
Jumping out of the bed, you surveyed the room. Bakugou himself was nowhere in sight, so it wasn't like your brain wasn't working and you'd forgotten about falling asleep in his room. Cautiously moving out from under the covers, your hand made you pause.
Following the hand up your arm, your heart continued to drop. From the calloused palm to the incredibly muscular bicep, you knew that something was wrong. You had muscle from so much time put into training and fighting for your life, but your body wasn't made to be muscular like the arm you were staring out.
Jerking out from under the covers, you nearly tripped on air in your haste to get to the connected bathroom. What greeted you in the mirror was not a familiar (H/c) bedhead. It was blonde spikes. Whimpering slightly, the noise sounded foreign yet familiar. Bakugou's voice.
"Shit, oh shit," swearing sounded familiar, but rather than the normal angry it was panicked, "How- oh fuck."
The night before you were working on your online schoolwork at the library (keeping up with it had become really hard now that you didn't have a good living situation) and was getting ready to leave when someone ran into you and dropped their books. It was like a flashlight shined in your eyes when your hands touched. The woman you ran into didn't act any different, so you assumed it was a harmless Quirk and went on with your night.
Obviously, it wasn't so harmless.
What were the parameters? It wasn't touch based. You hadn't visited Bakugou in nearly a week and you'd touched plenty of people between then. It wasn't thought based either. Your thoughts were on the League and classwork, not Bakugou. It wasn't like there was anything connecting you two-
