Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Reviews and messages are always welcome :) have a nice day!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but some OC's and this alternative unofficial plot.

CHAPTER 4: ON THE ROPES

With feline footsteps, he silently reached the wall adjacent to the open window as a slender figure made its way inside his room. There was a point where he could be so quiet, he could only hear his palpitations and the rushing blood of his body gathering every ounce of energy on him to activate his quirk. Not one hair on his head was moving...just observing the stranger adapt to the darkness of the room. The moonlight delimited soft curves of bare skin on the intruder's legs, it was surely a female. Her passes were vague and unsure, which showed that either this wasn't a premeditated attack, or that there was some sort of stimulant involved. An adventurous breeze invaded the room as what appeared to be an oversized t-shirt danced in the air. A warm vanilla scent with notes of burnt wood collapsed into his nose. Who was this? Who would invade his property with so little planning? It was insulting to realize the stranger found no threat in barging into his room. His neck and cheeks boiled at the thought.

The stranger took a careless look around as if she was window shopping on a lazy Sunday afternoon. A sharp head turn in the direction of his coffee mug resting at the table was the cue for the raven-haired professor.

Strong ropes flew across the room and over the steel bar attached to the ceiling he used for his daily workout, then down again to tightly wrap around the intruder's wrist. A weak, painful shriek barely broke the silence.

Momo's heart doubted for a second, not knowing if it should race or stop completely. She didn't know where the ropes that hung her came from or why she hadn't anticipated this. All she knew is her wrist was seriously injured. A slight pull of the ropes made her slowly turn like a human piñata. And there he was. Professor Aizawa, only a dark silhouette with a pair of rubies shining in the distance.

How could she be so stupid? Of course, he was there, the moron. Why had she gone into such a dare when she didn't have 100% certainty of it being safe? Her whole body trembled in silence as he stepped closer, taking his sweet time. Was he going to hurt her? He wouldn't...shouldn't….but would he? Panic possessed her soul, but if there was something she was sure, is that she would do anything not to show the fear and intimidation she felt.

She concentrated on giving a serene expression, her body a pressure cooker.

"Just exactly what was your plan?" Aizawa's cold tone contrasted with the fire on his eyes. Momo realized she had never seen him in this attire: a grey tank top that showed a pair of muscly arms she had never noticed underneath the loose black garments he used to wear, and dark grey shorts that showed bushy calves. "Have you really learned nothing about stealth in these past years?" the crimson in his eyes slowly returned to the black ponds Momo used to know.

What was she supposed to say? Sorry for barging in mind if you put me down? The knocking in her chest was almost audible in the dead silence of the room. Her mind was still blurry from the booze.

"I…"

"I don't recall asking for a reason why you are here," he gave two more steps towards her, but she didn't dare look in his eyes. Momo's sight was fixated on his chest and collar bone; the gray tank top hid scars here and there, his skin was so pale it almost reflected the moonlight. That warm scent of sheets and wood invaded her nose, it was him. Her attention was brought back to the moment by a pair of smooth cold fingers lifting her chin.

His long brows frowned. She was noticeably shaking, and she knew he could tell. Yet, he stood there, looking at her face.

His eyes were framed by long, straight jet black lashes; Momo had never noticed the discreetly splattered freckles on his cheekbones that melded with the shadow cast by his unchanging stubble.

Momo's eyes rose to meet with his again, afraid he might have noticed her lapsus of contemplation, but interestingly enough, his eyes weren't waiting for hers.

No.

Wait...was he looking at her mouth?

Momo's eyes fluttered in disbelief, which apparently led him to throw her one of his deadly glances.

"Here's what's going to happen." his fingers were still holding her chin. "I'll get you down, and you will walk out of here. Your friends are going to ask you what you saw." Momo tried to wiggle out the grasp of the ropes, but his hand pulled it, lifting her few centimeters higher. The hand that lifted her chin reached her free wrist, limiting her movement even more. "You saw nothing, you saw no one. Got it Barbie?" his voice could've intimidated All Might. Momo nodded, she would do anything to get out of there. Neither of both dared to lower their sight. She was trying to hide the fact that she was panting in agitation. Eraserhead finally let his scarf loose and Momo was released.

Aizawa walked towards the door, letting her take a glance at his half ponytail. He opened the door and waited for her to leave his room.

"Momo's back! She did it!" Mina exclaimed back at the living room, where everyone was dancing and playing beer pong. Everyone turned to see her. Kacchan walked over to where she was standing, still shaking.

"So? Do you have it?" he asked with that malicious grin he used to show off when the taste of victory was near. Everyone looked at her with expectation. What the hell had just happened?

Bakugo's guttural beast-like growl filled the room when Momo's projectile vomit was splattered on his t-shirt. Everyone burst into laughter. Jiro handed her a wet kitchen towel. Her friends kept asking if she had the picture, but Momo excused herself and got back to her room.

She washed her mouth and her face, with no energy left to take a shower. After that, she threw herself to her bed, only to stare at the ceiling, only one word on her mind.

Barbie?

I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I never thought I would be writing stories again, guess the heart always goes back to were it was once happy. Have a great day, keep filling your imagination with stories. Big Hug, Lady B.