Feels like puberty all over again (Iida x Midoriya)

Desperate Measures

My skin felt like it was burning, but instead of it actually being on fire, it was this mix of sweat and way too thick blankets that clung to me as the clock struck 11.

I couldn't sleep. How could I? I thought I was sick, that maybe I had a fever or cold, but my temperature was normal as per usual.

It was an uncomfortable feeling, like a pit in my stomach was being carved out and replaced with molten lava. I couldn't figure it out- I couldn't figure anything out.

I asked the nurse, and she said it was probably the stress of training and exams. I asked Mr. Aizawa, and he said the same thing. I even went to Present Mic as a last, desperate option and was told the exact same thing. It doesn't feel like stress; I don't feel stressed. I don't even get stressed.

I'm Tenya Iida, and I never once, in all my 18 years of living, felt pressured or overwhelmed. It all came so naturally: school, cooking, schedules, obedience, anything other than art I could manage.

Well, I guess I have felt overwhelmed recently, but only recently! I'm overwhelmed that I don't know what's going on with my head and body, I'm overwhelmed that I can't sleep without waking up sweaty and bothered, and I'm overwhelmed that nobody- and I mean nobody- knows what's wrong with me!

It's just so not me. How can this be me?

Now it's 11:15, and I'm still not tired. And then it was 11:45; and guess what? I'm still not tired.

It's 12 now, and I can't close my eyes. The covers are anywhere but on the bed, and I'm tossing and turning every which way, but nothing is comfortable.

I need to distract myself, maybe I'll fall asleep thinking about something. I think about my so called "party," or Midoriya, Uraraka, and Todoroki. I think school is a lot more fun with them, even if I arrived not planning on making any friends. I find that having no close friends is a lot easier than having a party of 3 very personal, very outgoing friends, but I don't think I'd have it any other way now.

Though it's harder to keep track of them, it's fun. I have people to talk to, people to share with, people to just be myself around. It's far more, much more than I had planned this year.

I was alone a lot when I was little because friends like the 3 of them were distractions. I used to get much more extra credit before I met the three of them, and I used to stay after school, request more work, and study late into my day. My life was get better, do better, be better. And though that still stands, I'm glad my friends break me out of that loop sometimes.

I've gotten used to them barging in on my life, and now they're apart of it. I'm happy.

But right now I'm extremely overwhelmed. I don't want to call them, it's the middle of the night, but I feel a need to do something. I think of Midoriya; has he ever felt something like this? Was it quirk related? Am I experiencing some kind of body malfunction?

"God, what's wrong with me?" I mumble, what else can I do? I'm not scared or anything, but I feel out of control. Again, a yearning fills me. I feel it through my whole body, in my head and all the way down to my toes.

A thought so sudden enters my head, so ridiculous, that I attempt to get rid of it immediately. I wanna touch myself. But it's already there, it's already happened. I thought it. I wanted it. I'm not stupid, I know that people touch themselves like that all the time; I have before, when I was 14, but the shame I felt after was enough to make me stop doing it for a while. A long while, actually, because since then I've only done it three times under very, very desperate measures.

Maybe now is a desperate measure. I don't even think it's the actual masturbating that scares me; I think it's what I think about while I touch myself. I think about someone underneath me, breathing heavily; they're just a blacked out silhouette, I'm not sure what it's supposed to represent, and that's why it scares me.

But I feel it. I feel the urge to reach my hand down below my waistline, underneath my sweatpants, and let loose. It's all I can think about now, touching myself. I don't want to. Not now. I have school tomorrow.
A couple of minutes to "de-stress" wouldn't hurt, right?
My self conscience feels like something of itself instead of it being apart of me; it feels like another voice whispering to me, telling me to just do it.

I know my face is red. God this is so unlike me. Just repress it, I thought. Just don't do it, I thought. I feel so out of control, I don't know what to do with myself.

I know I'm shaking, I know my teeth are clenched, I know how hard I'm breathing.

I know it's inevitable. Just give in to your body's needs already. All you can do is accept it, right?
I need to talk to someone. Maybe I'm not the normal one for repressing these desires, and instead everyone else is the normal one for accepting them. Have I been doing it all wrong?

Just do it.

I don't feel like it's me guiding my hand below my sweatpants waistline, and I don't feel like it's me wiggling my hand underneath my briefs. I pause.

It's now or never. I can get it over with now, or wake up again sweaty and uncomfortable.
I can feel myself. I'm scared. I'm touching myself. Me, Tenya Iida, class president of class 1A, is touching himself. I get almost sick to my stomach. I don't know why! It's such a normal thing- god!

I keep touching myself, fiddling with myself, and my breathing becomes uneven; it's only a brief touch, and I already feel this way. I must be really pent up.

It doesn't take long for the black silhouette to appear. I give in. I'm panting, as quietly as I can, and desperately rubbing myself against my hand and the mattress. I feel humiliation, even if no one knows what I'm doing.

As I'm lost in embarrassment and pleasure, the silhouette begins to change. The first thing I notice is pale skin; I see scars, freckles covering shoulders and collarbone. Then I hear whining, it sounds familiar, yet so different than anything I've ever heard. They call my name, and wrap their arms around my back tighter, and bite at my shoulder. Next I feel chapped lips, kissing my body, and I feel teeth digging into my skin. I feel hair tickling my neck, I feel their breaths and moans all throughout me, and I feel good. Just good? Is that all? No, not just good, but satisfied? Am I satisfied? Satisfied with what? No ones here with me. It's just me, my lonely hand and mattress, trying to hold the memory of that silhouette.

I feel them finish, and I finish, too.

They're gone. It's just me, me and my lonely hand and my lonely mattress. Just me and my imagination. Me and my dirtied briefs. Me and my breathing.

Good, that's how it should be, right? Alone. I should be alone. I shouldn't have the friends I have. I should just let them know I didn't come here for friends or going out or- I stop myself. They mean the world to me. My shame got the better of me, and I was thinking without actually thinking.

But it felt good. There's no denying that. I'd be an idiot to even try.

I wash my hands, I change my briefs and sweatpants, and I lay back in bed after getting a cup of water. The dorms aren't all bad; now I don't have to fear for my life whenever I do need to touch myself. I only did it once when at home, I was almost caught by my Mom. She would've had my head.

But it's bad because it echos, and it's bad because now I'm constantly faced with having to see my peers.

I close my eyes. I think about my friends. For some reason I feel sorry for having done what I done. I don't know why I'm like this. I don't know why I feel shame or why I feel like I need to apologize to them.

It's basic human nature to do this, to want this.
I'm still sorry.