Chapter Text
“Nah, you’re all wrong. Spider-man does more for this city than any of these idiot cops ever have.”
The familiar voice of my childhood best friend and classmate, Katsuki Bakugo (Kacchan), reaches my ears despite him being all the way on the other side of this noisy cafeteria. Perks of being bitten by some mutated lab spider; super hearing. To my great dismay, a flush heats my cheeks at his unintentional praise of me.
He’d never be saying those things if he knew who was actually under the mask, of course, but I’ll appreciate it personally anyways. I return my attention to the riveting discussion of Spider-man vs. the Brooklyn PD, where the seniors of UA high are debating who is better for our city. It’s pretty evenly (and predictably) divided; lovers of normalcy and rules are for the cops, people like Tenya Iida and Momo Yaoyorozu are 101% on the side of the keepers of the law, while people like Kyoka Jirou and Mina Ashido are pro Spider-man all the way.
Some of my (spider-man’s) more unexpected supporters have been Katsuki Bakugo and Neito Monoma, both stuck up rich kids whose parents benefit from the current system. Shockingly, they both hold a strong bias for their green spider hero, defending him at every turn and opportunity; they’d both REEL if they knew they were really defending and supporting deku.
“We shouldn’t be placing our full trust in some mysteriously anonymous ’hero’, who showed up out of the blue, above the real heroes who have protecting us for years-!”
Kacchan scoffs, cutting off Iidas rant and waving his hand dismissively.
“Your opinion doesn’t count, four eyes, you’re brainwashed by tradition and all that bullshit.” He mutters, drawing an exasperated groan from Momo.
I hear Kirishima chuckle fondly.
“What Bakugo means to say is that this manly Spider-dude has managed to lower the petty-crime rate by a lot in the few months he’s been active, something the cops haven’t been able to do in decades. Vigilante or not, he’s helping people and that’s what matters! No hate, just the truth.” The red haired jock explains good-naturedly.
Mina nods, her pink hair falling in her face as she leans on her blocky boyfriend.
“Yeah, Tenya, the dude is awesome AND stylish-” She beams.
“Tch, style could use some more fucking flare, but yeah.” Kacchan snips over her.
I struggle not to roll my eyes as Iida sighs. Of course the pretentious fashion student would be caught up on something as silly as my costume…
“I suppose you’re right, but-“
“There are no buts, dipshit!” Kacchan groans in irritation, “All the people who are against Spidey are just shit-for-brains who are terrified of change.” He grumbles.
“As much as I hate to agree, Bakugo is right,” Monoma sighs, chin in his palm as his fingers drum lazily against his jaw, “The chief of police is a brute, and Spider-man is cool. It’s not difficult to say who’s better for Brooklyn.”
As I look over my shoulder to subtly gauge the reactions to that, I notice it gets a few heads turning toward Todoroki, quiet and unreadable at his usual spot with our table across from them. His dad being the chief of police is a shadow that hangs over every conversation like this, and I still don’t know how he deals with it. Honestly, I was terrified at first that he’d hate me for making his dad’s job harder. But Todoroki? He hates Enji more than anyone. If anything, he seems more pro-Spidey just to spite him.
Sure enough, Todoroki sets down his cutlery, lips curling into the faintest smirk. “Spider-man does more for the people than my father’s entire precinct combined. That’s not even an opinion, it’s fact.” He calls over to them.
Some of them have the sense to be bashful, talking loudly about someone’s parents while their child is in hearing range; but Kacchan just nods, as if saying ‘Exactly, idiots.’
I swallow loudly, fwipping my head back around to poke at the soggy food on my tray. The conversation continues back and forth, and I can’t help sneaking another glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, the whole group is staring each other down like it’s the world’s most serious courtroom drama.
I’m grinning a little to myself, tuned in, when-
“MIDORIYA!” A loud voice snaps in my ear.
I yelp, nearly knocking my tray off the table. Ochako’s glaring at me like she wants to set me on fire and my ears are still ringing from her shout.
“W-What??” I cry, looking around in confusion as my friends stare at me.
Ochako sits back in her seat, rubbing her eyes with her finger tips and huffing in exasperation. I find that the rest of our table is fighting off smiles and staring at their food, amused by my scatter-brain.
“We asked you three times if you could hear us, but you kept mumbling to yourself.” Todoroki points out, staring at me intently from his seat beside Ochako.
I scratch my cheek nervously, smiling as I wave it off; I’ve really gotta stop thinking out loud…
“Sorry, I was zoned out.” I shrug, the back of my neck prickling as I feel hot, focused eyes on me.
I push the food on my tray around as I gnaw my lip, intuitively knowing that the piercing stare can belong to no other than a certain gloomy blonde. I shake my head in an attempt to distract myself; He’s probably just looking in this direction, not at me…
I should probably be involved in the whole Spiderman debate if I want to blend in; being inconspicuous is relatively important to keeping my identity a secret… I sigh, glancing up at my friends.
“Uh… everyone’s talking about Spider-Man lately, huh?” I prompt nervously.
While Spider-man himself isn’t a new presence, the traction he’s been gaining is. I’ve been swinging around at night on the DL, but lately my interactions with crime have been a liiiiittle more flashy than I’d like. It’s not awful that I’m being talked about more, but it does suck to hear my alter ego being bashed and debated at every turn.
Shoto smirks, a rare sight for him, and sets his cutlery down.
“I think he’s great. He gets his job done with respect and consideration for the people, way more than the police have been doing this year.” He jabs spitefully.
I press my lips together and nod; expected that…
“I don’t really understand all the hype, honestly.” Tsu hums from beside me, “He’s cool and heroic and all, but the police are reliable and they should be given priority in crime situations over a spider boy.” She croaks out.
I inhale through my teeth gently, trying not to correct the name like a try-hard fanboy. I glance up again as Shinso clears his throat, an unexpected contribution; the purple haired boy, much like his father, is a tired and mellow personality. It’s rare to get anything more out of him that a sleepy nod or grunt, maybe a snarky comment on a good day.
“It’s Spider-man, Tsu,” He corrects with a smirk, “And I dunno. Crimes gone down a whole lot since he’s been on the streets, even my dad has noticed.” He points out lazily, chin propped up by his palm.
“Plus his suit is super sweet!” Mei chimes in, waggling her eyebrows at me knowingly.
My eyes fly wide. I nearly choke on my water and stomp down on her foot under the table in panic. She just giggles, the little traitor, while my pulse is going a mile a minute.
“True, I do love his suit design. The green really stands out.” Ochako nods, chewing on a bite of pizza.
I fight off a blush at the compliment. Hatsume Mei is the only person (ever) to know that Spider-man and I are one and the same. After I realized that my silly makeshift suit of a green hoodie and ski mask was not effective, I came crawling to her on my knees and begged for assistance. Now, I’ve got her baby; Allmight.
Yes, my suit is named after my favorite comic book character. It’s made of a fire resistant spandex with built in tech and wiring to help control my webs, as well as modify my voice. Mei and I worked on it for weeks, and now the suit is my trademark. The slightly scary pink haired girl is convinced that her gorgeous suit is what led to my sudden rise in popularity, but I’m not so sure.
If I really put my mind to it, maybe I could’ve managed something passable… but nothing close to Mei’s. Unfortunately, no matter how talented I am in engineering, Hatsume is far better; I’m sure she’d be better even if engineering was my main focus. None of us have a chance compared to that borderline-obsessive girl; when she gets locked on a project, she barely sleeps until it’s completed to perfection. While I do admire that about her, the fact that her idea of perfection is held to such a high standard means that it took a bit longer to finish the suit than I’d initially hoped.
All of this madness started during a field trip to Shimura Labs. I… may have gotten carried away with all the shiny new tech and wandered off to take extra notes. Which, looking back, was dumb, because that’s how I stumbled into a room full of experimental spiders. One of them bit me, obviously; a neon green little thing.
I call him Mini-Mido. Don’t ask.
A few months later, here we are; I’ve got no clue what those things were made for or what the purpose of their existence was, but there was no record of experimental insects or anything in Shimura industries that would explain what happened to me.
“Midoriya… Time for class.” Tsu prods me gently, staring at me with concern as she pushes her long green hair out of her face.
I jump and quickly gather my things, brushing off the worried stares of my friends and rushing to fifth period.
___
“So Midoriya, how’re you holding up?” Mei prods at my cheek, peering at me suspiciously.
I sigh and shoo her away, stretching my arms over my head with a yawn. The two of us are in UA’s elite engineering lab, filled with expensive machines like massive 3D printers and robotic helper arms to aid students in more precise projects. I dropped by the lab after school ended because Mei wanted to fix a small bug in my suits voice mod system before deeming it complete. We tried working at it together, but she quickly determined that I was just in her way. Mei plans to major in engineering at Cornell, while I intend to focus more on robotic science and genetic research at the same school.
“Im fine, holding up as well as I can. Thanks again for, erm, making me my dream suit.” I smile genuinely.
She waves her hand with a shrug.
“No biggie, I’m happy to be making gear for a real hero.” She beams, “Although… Im shocked you haven’t even told Todoroki or Uraraka about this whole insect thing yet.” She hums, using tiny tweezers to apply tape to keep a certain bundle of wires flat against the inner fabric of my mask’s neck.
I twist my lips up to the side, guilt wracking through me. Under different circumstances, my two best friends would be the first people i’d tell. I know they’d support me and they’d never snitch, but I also know that they’d worry and stress too much. Not to mention that Shotos father is literally the chief of police, and keeping that kind of secret from his dad (the man actively working with journalists to uncover my identity) would be too difficult a thing for me to ask of him…
There’s also what might happen if they tried to help me out in my evil-busting hobby; if they got tangled up or involved, they’d be liable in more ways than one, and if there’s anything I won’t allow, it’s my friends getting caught up in my (metaphorical) web.
“Knowing about all this would only put them in danger, both legally and literally.” I sigh.
She quirks a brow, taking a step away from the wires and leaning back against her work table.
“How so?” She inquires.
“Well, you know about Shoto’s dad,” I begin to list the reasons off on my fingers, “any association with me could lead to issues in their near future, especially getting into the colleges they want. They’d both inevitably want to help me in any way they could, and that could lead to someone getting hurt. I already feel bad for coming to you with my suit, because it could bring controversy onto you and your work when you have such a promising future-“
She holds a finger to my lips with an eye roll, flipping her dreads off her shoulder and tutting.
She sticks a finger against my lips with a sharp shhh, rolling her eyes.
“You think too much, Midoriya. Seriously, your brain must be overheating.” She flips a wire over with tweezers and snorts. “Nobody’s gonna blacklist me for helping a hero. If anything, it’ll prove how genius my babies are! And besides,” she taps the mask’s wiring, “I didn’t even put my name on this thing. It’s untraceable.”
I gnaw on my inner cheek as she hunches over the table again, using a tiny smoldering tool to weld some tiny bits of wire together.
“You’re right, yeah, but-“
“No buts, tuts, or coconuts!” She cuts me off harshly, “I am choosing to help you because I want to. If anything should somehow happen to me because of that, then it will have been my own doing because I am CHOOSING to help you.” She powers through, eyes squinted to see her work better.
I sigh, sliding my hands into my pants pockets.
“If I were you I’d have run for the hills by now.” I mutter.
“Running is for wussies with no talent or passion. When I start a project I see it through to the end.”
I recoil in shock at her sudden intensity, a smile of amusement tugging on the corners of my lips.
“Well you know, this isn’t something with a definite end. Who knows how long I’ll keep crawling to you for repairs?” I remind her.
A grin splits her face, almost creepy as it lights up her eyes and spurs her careful movements.
“That’s what makes this project so fun, though.” She shrugs.
I sigh, dropping the attempt at getting her to back out and just watching her work silently. Mei is an odd duck, that’s for sure. In elementary school, she was always the little girl running around with a worm on a stick, chasing the boys until they cried. She would thrive in art, drawing up random gadgets and even making popsicle-stick prototypes before she moved onto figuring out to code and getting computer savvy. While being a little odd, she has top grades and dozens of schools begging for her attendance, so what does that say about normal people?
“Is the compaction feature working well?” She mumbles, in the zone.
I beam at the mention; she designed my suit to shrink down into a little green All-might keychain when it’s not on my body, and all I’ve gotta do to put it on is hold it to the center of my chest and press down on the figures head. Now THAT is something I couldn’t have done on my own, and I’ve honestly got no clue how she pulled it off.
She refused to tell me, calling it ‘her secret weapon’.
“Oh my god, it’s been a life saver. It’s so convenient to not have to take five minutes to change every time I come across a crime.” I gush, nearly bouncing in excited gratitude.
She smiles wider, ambition flowing off her as she works on her masterpiece.
“Exactly! So don’t break him.” She glares menacingly.
After another thirty minutes, she presents her finished work to me with pride, reminding me to come to only her with repairs since it’s generally unique and personalized tech before kicking me out and telling me to get some sleep. I stuff Allmight back on my keys and make my way to the subway, my feet carrying me on muscle memory as my mind wanders.
I really should practice more with controlling my webs. That was the hardest thing to come to terms with; webs shooting from my wrists. It was so gross at first, and it’s impossible to get them off your clothes (harder to explain to your mom what they ARE when she tries to wash your laundry) but I semi-got the hang of it. It’s a matter of the angle you bend your wrist at and controlling the speed they come out at, then you’re golden. Okay, well I’m mostly golden because Mei worked a web distributing aid into the wrists of my suit, helping me control the web consistency and moderating the amount that comes out. But I’ll figure out how to do that on my own soon!!
Aiming is a whole different story, and I’ve got naturally shaky hands so it makes it harder to hit exact targets unless I’m REALLY focusing-
“MOMMY!!”
I spin around from where I wait for my train, eyes scanning expertly for the spruce of the shrill cry. I finally land on a sleazy man in a black hoodie sprinting away from a shrieking woman with a small child tucked under his arm, bolting through the shocked crowd.
Ugh. I grit my teeth and glance around before subtly activating Allmight, the green suit stretching snugly over my body before darting forward and easily keeping up with the man and the sobbing girl as he exits the crowded underground. He glances over his shoulder and curses under his breath, dodging the first web I shoot his way and skirting around a corner.
I groan and swing myself into the air, watching him through the alley and following him quietly until he lets his guard down, snapping at the crying child in his grasp to shut up. I drop down behind him, nose wrinkling at the smell of rotting trash and dust in the city’s crevice.
“Hey there, sir, I don’t think she belongs to you- Oh, woah!” I dodge his hand as he flashes a gun at me, shoving the girl to the ground.
“Fuck off, Spider freak!” He spits, shakily aiming the small pistol in my direction.
“Well, that’s not very nice.” I grumble.
I shoot a web at his hands, an attempt to restrain him. He snarls, jerking free, and swings the gun in my direction again as if it were a blunt weapon instead of a projectile. I barely have time to dodge, my heart hammering in my chest.
I lunge at his legs, trying to trip him, but he sidesteps, shoving me back with enough force to knock the wind out of me. My webs tangle around the trash and the platform walls. I glance at the girl, wide-eyed and terrified, and my stomach twists even more.
I need to get physical. There’s no other way.
I rush him, grabbing his wrist, twisting it, trying to force the gun down. He screams, struggling violently. The gun clatters to the ground, but he yanks back, catching me by surprise and sending me stumbling onto the grimy floor. The sound of heavy metal being raised into the air sends a shock through my spine and before I have a second to even inch out of the way, the butt of the gun comes slamming into the base of my skull.
I grimace and shove the man off, my body kicking into overdrive as the throbbing pain in my head blurs my vision. I hear the firearm click and I freeze; can I outrun a gunshot? Oh shit, I’m about to get shot-
“HEY ASSHOLE!”
My whole body tenses at the familiar voice. Suddenly the man is distracted, only briefly, but long enough for me to grab at him, forcing the gun from his hand with a sickening crack as I (accidentally) break his wrist. He shrieks, rolling on the floor and clutching his arm to his chest.
I wince.
“Oops…” I whisper, glancing up at the person who called out before moving to check on the girl-
Wait, blonde hair?? I spin on my heel, locking gazes with red eyes as the breath is knocked out of me. He’s staring intently, not giving away any thoughts, just watching. Kacchan just stands there, body sweaty and chest heaving, clearly having been on an evening jog based on his tennis shoes and tank top. I hesitate, but quickly move to comfort the crying girl on the floor rather than worry about that.
“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay! You’re safe, i’m Spider-man. Are you hurt?” I croon, giving her a once over.
She stares at me with wide brown eyes, sniffling softly as she shakes her head.
“Great! Okay, let’s find your mommy and talk to the cops-“
click!
A loud bang goes off behind me and I instinctively yank the child against my chest, flattening her to the ground as protection. I hear a struggle behind me and glance over my shoulder in confusion, jaw dropping to see Kacchans foot digging repeatedly into the side of the criminal on the ground who clutches his gun weakly, clearly having fired a shot in my direction. Before I can even move to help, Kacchans foot slams down on his good wrist, a resulting crack mirroring the one from earlier as he cries out again. The gun slides over to me, where I quickly snatch it up and flip on the safety.
“K-Sir!! That was very dangerous, are you alright-“
“Shut it, would you? I’m fine. Watch your back, damn idiot.” He snaps, kicking hard into the kidnappers ribs once more before letting up.
The man curls in on himself, sobbing pitifully on the dusty floor of the alley. I blink at him in shock, holding the girls hand tightly as I process. The sound of running footsteps alerts me to the approaching authorities, and I snap back into it and rush forward, shoving Kacchan back down the alleyway he came from.
“Thank you for your help, but you should go! Don’t wanna be caught up in all this!” I insist, giving him one more hard shove to the shoulders before turning to face the sprinting cops and the child’s mother behind them.
I sling a web onto the roof and land on the ledge, smiling down on them.
“Hey, guys! The little girl is okay, and that guys got two broken wrists,” I beam, nodding at the man on the floor, “Oh! He had this,” I dangle the pistol over the edge from my crouched position, removing the magazine and tossing the gun down into one of the cops hands before chucking the left over bullets into the dumpster beside them.
I wave at the little girl, who stares up at me in awe, before nodding and wishing them well. I escape quickly; while the cops themselves have nothing against me, their chief does, and they’re obligated to bring me in if they get the chance. Better safe than sorry!
The sun has started going down; I should be getting home before mom worries…. I land on a random near-by building top, bending over with my hands on my knees while I catch my breath. Ugh, I was really looking forward to getting home with no drama today… At least I got out of there before any news crews pulled up.
I feel bad for breaking that guys arm. I mean, I know he was doing something gross and horrible, but that level of force wasn’t NECESSARY to the situation. I was shocked…about Kacchan. I mean I know he’s a pretty confrontational person, but physically assaulting someone to save a random spider guy he barely knows? Hm.
I’ve also gotta work on keeping my focus. If Kacchan hadn’t shown up, I might have gotten my brains blown out!…Ehh, probably not. I could have kicked him off me in time, but I should still be more careful about how I go about takedowns. I did get hurt again, though. I’ve gotten slashed and grazed a few times, but never such blunt trauma.
I touch the back of my head gently and wince; no blood, but definitely gonna bruise under my hair… I should take off my mask-
“Fancy meeting you here.” A gut wrenchingly familiar gruff voice calls out from behind me.
I whip around with a grimace to face the well-built blonde, grateful that I didn’t take off my mask after all. I freeze in shock for a few seconds before I remember I’ve got an act to keep up.
“Speak for yourself. Shocked anyone’s up here this late.” I point out, insanely grateful that Mei thought to incorporate voice modification into Allmight.
He rolls his crimson eyes, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his running shorts. He’s panting and sweating like he ran up the stairs of this building to catch me…The slight, cool breeze ruffles his hair and makes him draw his shoulders to his ears against the chill.
“S’only like, six. Saw you swing up here and figured I’d like to officially meet this infamous spider boy.” He smirks, walking up to me to glance over the edge of the building.
“Spider-man…” I mutter under my breath.
His eyes slide over to me, chuckling dryly.
“Whatever.” He scoffs, turning to face me fully.
I stare awkwardly, watching a slight frown tug at his lips; I get a strong wind of deja-vu as he sizes me up.
“Just so you know, that was lame.” He huffs, turning back out to face the calm streets below.
I recoil slightly, crossing my arms defensively. LAME? I saved a little kid from being kidnapped, what’s lame about that? As I open my mouth to protest, he waves me off with a tsk.
“Sure, you rescued a kid, but without me helping you out, you would have gotten your fucking shit rocked.” He grumbles smugly.
I grit my teeth, flicking his forehead and fighting off a grin at the shock on his face.
“I’d like to see you try my job, blondie…” I tease, “By the way, you could have gotten yourself hurt, so don’t pull anything like that again.” I scold him responsibly.
I like this whole Kacchan-not-knowing-who-I-am thing, makes it super easy for me to mess with him back. Wayyy less awkward tension. He quickly composes himself, narrowing his eyes at me competitively.
“I’d be better than your ass, that’s for sure. And again, you’d have gotten shot if I didn’t step in.” He smirks, raising his chin.
I quirk a brow at his confidence, fighting a laugh.
“You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you Ka-aaahahaa, what’s your name again??” I internally cringe, almost using my very obvious, niche nickname for him when we’re supposed to have just met.
If he noticed anything, he doesn’t show it, just holding his hand out with a steady, jacked arm.
“Name’s Katsuki Bakugo, don’t forget it.” He demands, nearly crushing my hand in his grip.
I stifle a yelp, almost forgetting that my genes have been mechanically reengineered to make me stronger than him (and most people!). Practically snarling in joy, I squeeze the shit out of his fingers just because I can, relishing in his slight wince. He tears out of my grasp, subtly shaking his hand off and scowling at me spitefully.
“Right, Bakugo.” I hum, ignoring how foreign his surname feels in my mouth.
In this dark lighting, his face all relaxed and not scowling as hard, his handsomeness really shines through… when he’s calm he could almost be described as pretty; silly Izuku, you really hit your head too hard. He glances nervously off to the side, sticking his hand down his pocket again and searching around for a few moments before pulling out what I quickly realize to be a small, printed photograph of me and a black marker. I beam in pride; KACCHAN WANTS MY AUTOGRAPH??
I take a deep breath and force my overconfident persona back on.
“You gonna ask nicely or just shove it in my face like a caveman?” I prompt.
His eyes sharpen, frown deepening.
“Give me your fucking autograph, you cocky dipshit.” He mutters, nearly chucking his marker at me.
I cackle as I swipe it from the air and swiftly scribble out my embarrassingly well practiced and thought out autograph. I glance up and meet his glare through the white eyes of my suit, humming contentedly at the poorly concealed eagerness.
“Here ya go, you only get one so don’t lose it.” I tease.
“Whatever, loser.” He smiles, almost softly.
I’m hit with the brick-like memory of small Kacchan beaming in excitement as the actor for Allmight in the movies signed his limited edition golden age poster, the joy and pride and wonder in his eyes… And now he’s looking at me like that. I force myself back into the present and snap my head around, suddenly remembering the time.
“Well, uh, it was nice meeting you! Did you… I dunno, want a picture or something before I go?” I ask hesitantly.
He rolls his eyes, but digs his phone out of his pocket and slouches over to me, holding his phone up but not quite capturing my whole face. I secretly take joy in the fact that I’m now taller than him (by like half a centimeter, but still!) and snatch it from his hand, holding it up high and spamming the picture button, capturing him scowling at me before switching to holding his middle finger in front of my mask as he fights back a smile.
I hand his phone back to him with a sly ‘you’re welcome’ before turning my back to the edge of the roof.
“See you around, Katsuki Bakugo.” I grin, getting butterflies at the way his lips part a bit, before letting myself fall backward.
I hear him gasp sharply, quickly leaning over the side to see if I fell as I sling a web and swing away towards my place.
Later that night, freshly showered and laying in my cozy, warm bed with damp curls and an ice pack pressed to the back of my mostly healed head, I stumble across Kacchans instagram story. I fight back a smile as my ears heat up; the story is a slightly blurred photo of Kacchans middle finger half-obscuring my green spider-mask as he grins sharply, all teeth and smug bragging. The apples of my smiling cheeks are notable through the thick fabric of my mask, and with the lights of Brooklyn late at night glowing in the background, it’s almost too aesthetic, like something you’d find on Pinterest.
Small text below the picture reads ‘Bugboy’s just my sidekick, extras. Meet your friendly-fuckin-neighborhood Katsuki Bakugo.’ I click my phone off and toss it to the side, grinning into my pillow. God, he’d have a fit if he knew it was really me on that roof…