A Little Bit Normal (BNHA x Seme Male Reader)

2

(F/n) (L/n) {Yuuto}

Height: 6ft (around the height of diabetes and Koda)

Age: 14-15

Quirk: Telekinesis

Drawbacks: can spike migraines upon excessive use

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8 years later

"Wow, this place looks exactly the same."

"Wow, that's crazy. Now get to picking up boxes, kiddo," My mom demanded, bumping shoulders with me as she carried a box into the house. I shrugged and complied, walking to the back of the old run down truck my father refused to let go. Throwing a box onto each of my shoulders, I walked into the house and threw them onto the table at the center of the kitchen. The old woman I call a mother punched my arm, "Stop throwing boxes onto glass tables, I don't know if you know this, but glass breaks."

Everything but the frame of the table was glass on this thing. I put my hands up in surrender before saying, "Well I wasn't the one who got a glass table of all the kinds of tables." She shrugged and continued to open the boxes I brought in, organizing the belongings we took from our old place in Hosu. I walked back out to the truck and picked up the box that had my name on it in the horrible penmanship I claim as my own.

Walking into the house, I walk by a room which contains my father, my father who is passed out on his new bed which he will share with my mom. He drove here after a night of no sleep because he was paranoid we would forget something important. Maybe like a table not made of glass. I continued past his room and threw open a door which I thought would be my room, but no, it was the laundry room. I groaned and my mom walked behind me with a taunting laugh, probably seeing what happened. Sighing all the way down a hall, I threw open another door and, to my luck, it was my new room.

I threw my box of shit onto my bed and then flopped onto the unoccupied space. "This bed smells like.. not me. Guess I gotta stay in it all day."

"Oh no ya don't, mister. You have to help me unpack all of the stuff we brought back," she hummed, putting her hands on her hips.

"Why do you enjoy making me suffer?" I fruitlessly questioned, my words muffled by the mattress I had put my face on.

"I gave birth to you, so now you have to do my bidding because I'm old," She replied. I lifted my head and looked at her, knowing that the true meaning of that sentence was that she was lazy and grabbing at excuses for me to help.

I stood up and walked through the door frame and past her, entering the kitchen and seeing that she had already put half of the possessions away. "Ok, I guess I can't complain anymore. I'll help you, old lady," I said, picking up random statues that my dad found at a thrift store and bought because he thought they were cool. Honestly, they weren't, but I'm not complaining. I set them out on shelves I found around the house, eventually running out of the weird figurines.

"Oh my god, remember this cutie?" I heard my mom gush, causing me to waltz back into the kitchen.

"Thinking about cheating on dad now, are ya?" She violently elbowed me in the stomach to answer me, to which I groaned and grabbed the table for support.

She showed me the picture like she didn't just abuse her child, letting me see it was a picture of Izuku and I sitting in the grass when we were four, looking very concentrated on our topic of conversation, while I could spot Katsuki walking to us with his hands in his pockets. When she took this picture, I do not know. I didn't even know we had it, which is kinda creepy. "Izuku? How could I forget him? He was probably the only one that believed I still had the possibility of having a quirk. I'm pretty sure you gave up before he did," I pointed out.