Chapter Text
Izuku is used to getting anonymous letters, it's part and parcel of being a hero after all, and a large portion of his fan base consists of teenage girls too embarrassed to sign their names to their confessions. The return addresses usually give them away, but he has no desire to ruin their fun. The pile of letters and packages on his desk bring him no small amount of joy, physical proof that he makes a difference; that he made it when no one thought he could. He wants to write back to each and every person who reaches out to him, but he will never have the time. He reads them all, though, which is how he gets to the one he has in his hand.
It's…not like any letter he's ever received in the past.
"Whatcha got there, Midoriya?"
Izuku jumps, dropping the letter to his desk at the sound of Kirishima's booming voice in his ear. Kirishima laughs at him, a bright sunshine sound that does very little to erase the coat of greasy unease spreading oily slick over his skin. He grabs the paper before Izuku can think to stop him.
"D-don't read that," he says shakily, holding his hand out for the paper. His cheeks burn blood hot and Kirishima mistakes the blush for regular embarrassment, not the bone deep mortification currently plaguing him.
"Aw, did you get another love confession? That's so…" Kirishima's trails off, his teasing grin disappearing by small increments until he stares at the message in pure, abject horror. Shinso, who had perked up from his nap at his desk, stands up to join them when Kirishima whispers a quiet, emphatic, " Jesus ."
Izuku buries his face in his hands and doesn't resurface until the letter is passed to Shinso above him. His fellow hero curses low and drops the paper back to Izuku's desk. Someone ruffles Izuku's hair, an attempt at comfort.
"Where's the envelope, Izuku?" Shinso asks quietly, but his voice is tight, angry. Izuku dully points to a plain craft paper envelope near the pile of fan mail he had been hoping to get through during his rare lull in paperwork. Shinso picks it up by one corner with delicate fingers and flips it over to take a look at the return address typed onto the back. Izuku recognizes the zip code as his own but the rest of the address is only vaguely familiar. "Kirishima, could you search that address for me real quick?"
"Yeah, of course." Kirishima slips his phone out of his back pocket and quickly enters in the address while Izuku does his best not to look at the letter again. Shinso rests a hand on Izuku's shoulder, dragging his attention up. He's not smiling, his lavender eyes hard as stone and mouth a thin, angry line, but it warms Izuku all the same to know he has friends who worry about him. Izuku gives him a tired smile in return.
"I've gotten some really strange letters in the past," Izuku says lightly, trying to ease some of the tension from Shinso's face. "Nothing quite like this, of course, but it was bound to happen eventually."
"Yeah, no." Kirishima frowns at his screen. "This isn't normal-crazy. This is depraved and whoever wrote it definitely doesn't want to be found. Look."
"Oh, that's a really good cafe." Izuku smiles, to hide the way his insides clench uncomfortably. The map application displays a cute hole in the wall cafe that Izuku discovered purely by accident. The owners are an elderly couple who run their little business out of their home just to pass the time; Izuku has never tasted katsudon so good outside of his mom's. "They...uh, they definitely wouldn't have sent that letter."
"Which means this guy doesn't want you to find him, like Kirishima said. He even typed everything to hide his hand writing. You should file a complaint with the police, just in case this escalates. He basically said it would."
"I'll do that." Deku says, nodding absently, but despite himself, his eyes wander back to the letter half folded on the desk. Something about the wording niggles at the back of his mind, familiar and strange all at once.
Dear Deku,
What a big shot hero you've become. Who'd have thought you could do it? Color me impressed.
I've been wondering lately, you ever been fucked? You blush so easily on TV when you get interviewed about your girlfriends or whatever, but goddamn if that uniform of yours ain't tight. Did you do that on purpose? Were you trying to get my attention? Well, you have it. You've always had it you piece of shit. Ain't anyone out there who does it for me quite like you.
They always mention girls on TV, but I know that ain't what you're into. You still need a thick cock to get you off, yeah? I bet you sob when you get fucked, you've always been such a pathetic crybaby.
I'll make you cry. I'll make you cry so hard you choke on your own ugly sobs while I fuck you until you bleed. My cock'll look so good covered in your blood. You already look so fucking perfect at the end of a fight, battered and broken. I'm going to do that to you. I'm going to hurt you so good and you're going to let me, beg me to, even. You're so easy if you think you're making someone happy.
Your biggest fan.
Izuku won't file a report with the police, he decides. He doesn't want to bother them with something as minor as a creepy letter and there's really nothing they can do. Besides, Izuku's a hero. He's quite capable of handling himself! It isn't becoming to get out of sorts over something as silly as words on paper, no matter how lewd or familiar those words are!
Right. He's fine. This is good. He'll just ignore this and move forward. Everything will go back to normal and he'll be able to forget this ever happened.
It gets worse.