Reincarnated as Izuku Midoriya | Male Reader Insert (DISCONTINUED)

Episode 8: I would, but...

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|| this has like absolutely no action in it, this is like filler hut important filler? Kind of anyway. Next chapter will be USJ and all, so basically that'll be done by like, New Years at this point. Been out of town constantly visiting family so I've had like no time to really sit down and write, but I've been slowly but surely writing this ||

What in the world?

Why is Momo, the confident, rich girl, stuttering so bad like a pornstar slobbering on- you probably shouldn't finish that sentence, actually. Not that you were wrong, of course.

You carefully took the piece of paper out of her hands, placing it in your back pocket. "Yeah. I'm cool with that." She flashed a smile that you found absolutely adorable, and quickly ran away, muttering incoherent words under her breath.

What was that all about? You simply shrugged your shoulders, your head whipping around at the sound of a car horn honking, noticing your mother had pulled up along the curb of the sidewalk, waving her hand violently. How long had she even been there for, you wondered?

You stood off of the bench and quickly ran over, swinging the passenger door open and taking your seat, closing the door behind you, and fastening your seatbelt around you, into its buckle. "Hey, mom. How was work?"

She simply shrugged her shoulders in a similar fashion to yourself-- must've been where you'd gotten the habit from. "It was pretty good! How was school? I'm sure it must be pretty good, if you have girls walking up to you and asking for your number." She teased, which you groaned in annoyance at, throwing your head back.

"It's not even really like that."

"Then what is it like?" She questioned with a raise of her brow.

You shook your shoulders with an uncertain look, you weren't even entirely sure yourself about that. [F/N] pulled out the piece of paper and noticed it had numbers scribbled out, taking about a moment to realize that she'd given you her number-- a beautiful, rich, powerful girl had given you her number. And you'd barely even spoke to her.

Did this mean that you had game?

You were pretty sure that wasn't what that meant, but it felt good— really good in fact.

Inko whipped the car around and drove off heading in the direction of the apartment, the short drive there being short and sweet, quickly arriving at the school and parking in her assigned spot, putting the car in park and shutting it off. The two hopped out of the car, slamming the doors behind them, and walked up the stairs leading to their apartment door, Inko jamming her keys into the keyhole and unlocking the door, opening it and allowing the two inside, closing it behind them.

"Oh, your father called — something about wanting to see what you were up to."

You weren't even the real Izuku and yet you seemed to heat up at even the idea of his father, or rather your father, calling— his deadbeat father, he should phrase it instead. But of course, that came with the territory of being an anime protagonist, but if he had to be honest, he missed his own father— his own mother, even if you had Inko as a new mother. It just wasn't the same— and it probably never will be.

With that thought in mind, you keep to yourself, responding to her in short replies at any form of contact she tried to make, bolting into your room and closing the door shut behind you, locking it before throwing yourself into your bed, softly nuzzling your head along with the comfortable bed sheets, slowly drifting to sleep.

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