Erase Herゾごホ

フィン - finn

Older men. Something about them entranced me, making it so I couldn't help myself. I have daddy issues, that much is true, and I'm bit more fucked up than your average girl. A girl with a kinky obsession who acidentally let one of the men creep into her bed more than once.

How fucking stupid, am I right?

Even after I had decided to spend my summer hopping man to man, embracing myself sexually, and drowning myself morally. Double edged sword, albeit, but it was something I wanted to do. Something I had dreamed of doing ever since I had found myself sprawled out in bed, with Pro Hero Kamui Woods.

At seventeen, if you'd believe that.

I was set on becoming some kind of storm no man could weather, a typhoon of unforgiving actions and thoughtless emotions. I wanted to be that girl, I wanted to be her so bad and I was for a moments time. Until my lucky (e/c) eyes landed on some guy sitting alone in a booth at Sakura around 2am on a Tuesday.

"(Y/n) you are going to be late." His voice sounded almost like a memorized tune to me now, filling my ears with nostalgic times of being in his arms until the break of dawn, or sitting under the stars on the darkest nights. But right now it was more of a nagging alarm, reminding me of the harsh world outside of our little safe bubble.

"Five more minutes." I grumbled back, yanking the covers over my head, shielding my eyes away from the sunlight slipping through our cream colored curtains. He let out a responsible sounding sigh, his footsteps making their way over to my side of the bed as he spoke.

"Five more minutes turns into ten, which then proceeds into fifteen, which is fifteen minutes you don't have." He tore the blankets to my feet, the morning sun burning through my closed eyelids as I rolled onto my stomach, stuffing my face into my pillow, "Really, (y/n), Japans most recognized support technician and the worlds number nine-."

"Seven." I corrected him, pointing a finger behind me. He laughed gently, sitting down at the edge of the bed beside me, his hands resting on my back.

"...and the worlds number seven hero, you think you'd be a little more punctual in these kinds of situations." He said, flipping me over to face him. Our eyes met, like they've met hundreds-, no, thousands of times before. Each time feeling like it would be our last, some kind of paranoia sticking to me like glue ever since the day I was shot and dragged away out of his reach.

Shota Aizawa. That is his name, a name that will forever be engraved into the walls of my souls, a voice that will never stop being my favorite song, and a smile. A smile that will always make me feel like I am the luckiest person to be breathing on this planet.

"It's a silly press conference." I mumbled, reaching up and poking the side of his cheek. "I think they can wait a while." He gave me a hopeless grin, my palm opening and cupping his face, my thumb running over his black stubble as one of his hands reach up to touch mine.

"It's an interview about you becoming the youngest person to ever breach the top ten, not only that but with rarely ever using a quirk?" He scoffed, turning his face so his lips would kiss my fingertips, "I hardly think that is silly." I felt my face redden, shaking my head as I tugged away from his grasp, stretching my arms up into the air with a yawn.

"I'm just a normal person." I said, sitting up to face him, "A normal person who would do anything for the people I love." I swung my feet over, getting up and making my way to the clothes I had picked out for said interview. "Becoming number seven was just something that happened along the way." Shota laughed, a bit louder now, causing me to glance over my shoulder.