Shinsou X Reader - Blog Posts

you text them that you're in heat pt.2

alpha! aizawa, keigo, shinso, tenya x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — swearing, suggestive

pt.1

Hitoshi Shinso x reader

“Flavor”

"Is it... blueberry?" Hitoshi muttered, confused with his his half-lidded eyes.

You had bought some flavored chapsticks you pressured him to play the game you had seen in a video with you … to guess the flavour of the balm.

"Wait, mh... cherry? Am I anywhere close?"

"No silly" you chuckled as you applied more chapstick.

"C'mon guess again!"

Hitoshi's lips curled into a small smile at your chuckling, though he still looked deep in thought as he moved a bit closer to you.

"Hmm... I guess I will keep trying until I get it right," he then said, trying to look annoyed yet there was nothing but playfulness in his voice. "Okay then, let's see... mango?"

"Really mango?" Your eyebrow lifted

"I'll give you a hint it's flavored fruit it’s common!"

Hitoshi chuckled quietly as your eyebrow lifted, his indigo eyebrows raising momentarily at the hint. He leaned in even closer to your lips, his eyes now wide open as he studied your lips in intense thinking, as if studying a piece of art.

"Hmm..." He stayed quiet and still for a moment... before finally speaking again.

"Passionfruit?"

"Noo!" You applied more lip balm as he took on your lips a licked them passionately trying to guess again.

Hitoshi closed his eyes as he accepted the kiss, tasting the balm on your lips.As you pulled away once more, he let out a soft chuckle.

"Damn, not even close..." He mumbled as he looked at your lips one more time.

With you putting on more balm, he leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss, his mind still in deep thought of what the mysterious flavour could be.

Hitoshi couldn't help biting your bottom lip as he kissed you, trying to get a better grasp of the flavour as his tongue moved across your lips with a strong sense of curiosity. With each kiss and each taste, he became more and more frustrated that he couldn't figure it out.

"Damn it, what is it..." He mumbled against your lips, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

"I swear, it better not be like... green apple."

"Hell no!" you giggled as you covered you mouth. His kisses turned you on but you were enjoying this game so much.

Hitoshi pulled back slowly, looking at you with a slightly annoyed expression, a small pout now on his face.

"Then what is it? I've been tasting it for so long and still nada... I swear you're using some kind of trick. It has to be."

He tried to look irritated though it was obvious he was just frustrated about not being correct about the flavour. He leaned in closer once more, looking at your lips with a smirk.

He tried to look irritated though it was obvious he was just frustrated about not being correct about the flavour. He leaned in closer once more, looking at your lips with a smirk.

"Come on, give me a hint - one hint."

"No! I already gave you one! Do you give up?" You snickered

"Ugh..."

Hitoshi groaned at your words. He gritted his teeth as he leaned back and away from you slightly, knowing that you'll hold this over his head later if he really did admit defeat. But he was too stubborn to give up just like that.

"No, I'm not giving up that easily," he said as he narrowed his eyes at you.

"I will get that flavour, damnit."

"If you say so!" You applied your chapstick one more time. Hitoshi's eyes instantly locked on to your lips when you applied the balm again, a determined look on his face.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand coming up to gently hold your chin so he could keep your face still.

"Okay... last try." He muttered lowly as he looked intently at your lips, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

"Just give me a second to concentrate."

Hitoshi noticed the hitch in your breath and it only fueled him even more. He leaned in again, his finger gently tilting your chin upwards to angle your face before his lips met yours once more. He held the kiss for a few extra seconds, taking his time to taste the lip balm on your lips.

He was clearly trying to memorize the taste and even tried to think back to other times he's tasted it to compare the flavour.

After a few more moments, Hitoshi finally pulled back, keeping his eyes firmly locked on your lips as he tried to get a sense of the flavour. He was silent for a moment, deep in thought before finally speaking up again.

"Damn it, I can't figure it out. It's driving me crazy." He mumbled as his eyes flicked up to yours, a small pout on his lips.

"Just lemme taste it once more."

"It's not free kisses!. it's to guess!" You pounted

Hitoshi let out a deep sigh, knowing that he wouldn't get one more taste unless he got the taste correct.

"Damn it..." He mumbled as he pouted back at you, his eyes narrowing.

"Okay.. one more guess and I swear l'l get it this time."

Hitoshi leaned in again, his hand still on your chin to keep your face still as he once again captured your lips in a kiss.

He tried to focus all his attention on the taste, letting his tongue slide along your lips in an attempt to get a better taste of the lip balm.

His eyes were closed and his mind was working overtime as he tried to guess once again. He could feel his frustration growing by the second, but he knew he couldn't give up now, not after all this time.

After what felt like an eternity, Hitoshi finally pulled back from the kiss, his hand letting go of your chin slowly. He looked up at you with a defeated look in his eyes, silently admitting that he had failed again.

"Damn it... I really am not gonna get it, am I?" He asked, a slight irritation in his voice though it was obvious he was more upset with himself for not being able to guess correctly.

You looked at him with desire as your lips warmed on to his touch

Hitoshi's irritation faded away as soon as he saw the look on your face. He couldn't help but lean closer to you once more, his eyes flickering down to your lips as the desire in him grew.

"I can't believe I'm letting some stupid lip balm stop me," he mumbled, his voice low and hoarse as he brought a hand up to cup your cheek.

"I don't care what the damn flavour is anymore. I just want to taste your lips again..."

Despite his earlier frustration, Hitoshi's mind was now completely focused on you. His touch was gentle as he pulled you closer, his other hand coming up to rest on your hip.

He stared into your eyes for a moment, his own eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in again. This time, his lips were more urgent and needy, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

"S-shin" you let out softly as you felt him let go a strand of silava connected yours and his young as you panted from the action

"Hnnn..."

Hitoshi's head was spinning from the intensity of the kiss, his mind consumed by you and your touch. His breath was ragged as he slowly pulled back, breaking the string of saliva between you two.

He took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at you with a mix of desire and need.

"God... I can't get enough of you," he said hoarsely, his voice strained as his grip on you tightened.

"W-watermelon..." you muttered

Hitoshi's eyes widened slightly as he heard the word "watermelon" come from your lips. He slowly let his hand fall from your cheek as he processed what you said, his brain finally registering your answer.

"Watermelon ..." He repeated quietly, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "So the damn flavour was watermelon the entire damn time?"

You laughed at his response And nodded

Hitoshi let out a deep sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. He had been so focused on trying to figure out the taste of the lip balm that he couldn't even tell it was something as simple as watermelon.

"I can't believe it was that simple the entire time..." He mumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I was so convinced it was something other than that. I even thought it was mango at one point."

"Yeah I don't know how you got mango"

Hitoshi chuckled at your words, a sheepish smile appearing on his face.

"I dunno either. I was just really desperate to guess the right flavour. I guess my brain went overboard trying to figure it out."

He moved a little closer to you, his eyes still fixed on your lips.

"But it was a good excuse to keep tasting your lips."

Your lips quivered wanting more of him as you trebled by his words. A bright blush appeared in your face. Hitoshi's eyes darkened as he noticed the effect his words had on you. Seeing you grow flushed and trembled because of him only fueled his desire even more.

He leaned in closer, his hand gently caressing your cheek as he whispered in a low and husky voice. "You know I could taste your lips all day and all night long."

"S-shin..." you trembled as he cupped your cheek

"You look so damn gorgeous when you get all flustered like this," he said in a low voice, his thumb tracing your jaw slowly.

"It makes me want to just lose control and do whatever I want to you…”

Why You Broke Up With Them (MHA/Reader) Pt 2

(Laser: I was asked to do a second part by @electronicexpertshark and I still had a couple of ideas for this concept, so here you go!)

Summary: Why you broke up with various MHA characters. (Not meant to be bashing, just some angst and drama for fun.) Part 1

Characters: Midoriya, Shinsou, Monoma, and Miruko

MHA-MHA-MHA

Midoriya

He always put others first, and while that wasn't a bad thing on its own, he didn't know how to balance his professional life with his personal life, especially when it came to you. If someone needed help after school, or if he came across a scene outside of campus, he was always offering a helping hand. Even if other people already had it handled, he couldn't just walk away. Social obligations just didn't seem as important when compared to a person in need. You lost count of the canceled plans and apologetic smiles. And you felt guilty, you felt selfish, but you wanted a partner that could prioritize you more than Izuku could. It was painful to break things off, but it was easier to handle the way he prioritized his life when you were only friends.

Shinsou

He carried a lot of insecurities and bitterness. A lot of the time he didn't feel good enough to be with you, and it became a self-fulfilling prophecy when he started pushing you away. He was the king of self-sabotage and there was only so much you could do to ease his worries, only so much you could try to understand that he was only acting like this because he felt inadequate, but in the end, it wasn't enough.

Monoma

His hidden sense of inferiority and his competitive nature were things you were aware of going into the relationship, but you didn't consider how that would apply to your relationship after getting together with him. You became a bragging point to him in a way that made you feel more like a prop than a partner. He was constantly competing with other couples in his own head, and that's not something you wanted part in. You'd just wanted to be with him.

Miruko

She moved too fast for you. She was high energy all the time, and she didn't stop for anyone, not even you. She was set in her ways, refusing to change, to compromise. In the end it was a rather messy breakup, but she didn't look back, so neither should you.

(Requests)

in your dreams | h. shinsou

⇨ he finally falls asleep, and there you are—again. in his hoodie. in his head. his dream girl, literally.

hai!!! i love ur writing sm

can u write a hitoshi shinso x reader fic and they have a child or smth cuz i’m in LOVEEE with your dabi smau fic😣💞

it’s okay if not, ur writing is so good 💗💗💗

fatherhood looks good | h. shinso

shinso didn't plan on having a kid, but now there's a tiny version of him running around the house and yelling about the moon.

(fic/drabble under the cut!)

there's a crash from the living room, followed by the unmistakable sound of bare feet slapping frantically against hardwood. you don't even look up from your phone.

"he's running," you call.

shinso sighs from the kitchen. "is it a happy run or a 'he's about to break something' run?"

you pause, listening. a door slams. a tiny voice wails, "why did they turn off the moon?!"

"...meltdown," you say casually. "moon's out. emotionally spiraling."

shinso leans against the doorframe with a tired sort of grace, stirring a mug of hot chocolate like this is completely normal. which, unfortunately, it is.

"i told you not to say the moon was a night light," he says.

you shrug. "he was scared of the dark. i panicked. i gave it personality."

"well," shinso mutters, setting the mug down with a small clink, "now it's personal."

you both wander toward the noise—your son has collapsed dramatically on the floor by the window, clutching his stuffed cat, face pressed to the glass.

"they turned it off," he sniffles without turning around. "the moon's gone. my night light's broken forever."

shinso sits down beside him cross-legged, like he's done this a thousand times. because he has. you watch as your husband gently tilts his head to try and meet his son's eyes.

"it's just cloudy, kid," shinso says quietly. "the moon's still there. can't always see it, but it doesn't go away."

your son frowns. "are you sure?"

"yeah," shinso says, voice lower now. "same way i can't always see you when i'm at work, but i still know you're being a tiny menace at home."

"i'm not a menace," he protests immediately.

shinso raises an eyebrow. "you bit your mom over cookies."

your son pauses.

"...she deserved it."

"absolutely not," you say from the hallway, and both of them flinch in sync.

there's a beat of silence before your son lets out a very long, dramatic sigh. "okay," he whispers, still watching the sky. "but tell the moon to stop hiding. i don't like when it goes away."

shinso leans back on his hands, glancing toward you. his expression softens a little—less tired, more tired and in love.

"i get it," he murmurs. "i don't like when things go away, either."

you tilt your head. he doesn't look at you, but he doesn't need to. that's just how he is—quiet affection, full volume in everything except words.

later, when your son's asleep, curled between the two of you with his limbs spread out like he fought ghosts in his dreams, shinso kisses your shoulder and says:

"you made him weird."

you smile. "you made him soft."

shinso brushes a hand through your son's hair, voice barely audible.

"yeah," he says. "we did good."

𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐮

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐔𝐀 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 @haikyuubby

MEETING HITOSHI SHINSOU:

the first time you met, he was probably scowling at the sports festival, muttering about the unfairness of it all. you, being the kind soul you are, probably tried to strike up a conversation, offering some words of encouragement. he’d be immediately wary, wondering if you were pitying him.

he’s naturally drawn to you if you're quiet, but for a different reason than most. he wonders if you're also observing everyone, analyzing like he does.

if you're loud and outgoing, he's immediately suspicious. he figures you're either naive or putting on an act. it takes a while to break down his defenses.

he’d be lowkey impressed if you knew about his quirk, but not scared of it. like, you understand the implications of it but aren’t like “OMG DON’T USE IT ON ME.”

he might use his quirk on you, just to test you. just a quick "hello," to see how you react. if you're quick-witted, or maybe even a little rude back, he's intrigued.

constant awkwardness; he's not used to people genuinely wanting to be around him who aren't trying to use him, so he’s constantly on guard.

SHINSOU CRUSHING ON YOU:

he tries to deny it at first. like, hard. he tells himself you’re just another person, that you’re probably faking your kindness, things like that.

he starts paying attention to the little things. the way you laugh, what you're passionate about, how you treat others. the more he observes, the harder he falls.

he catches himself thinking about you when he should be training. This reallyfrustrates him.

he starts hanging around you more, still trying to play it cool. he’ll offer you training tips, or maybe just sit nearby while you study, pretending to read.

if someone is being rude or condescending to you, he might step in, using his quirk to shut them down with a well-placed "shut up." he acts like it's no big deal, but he was totally defending you.

he starts having trouble making eye contact. he’s so used to giving people a piercing stare to activate his quirk, but when it’s you, he gets flustered and looks away.

he would try to leave you alone if he thinks that you think he is weird, but secretly his heart breaks whenever you do not talk to him.

DATING HITOSHI SHINSOU:

he's super awkward at first. Like, painfully so. except stilted conversations and nervous fidgeting.

he loves it when you play with his hair. it’s one of the few things that can get him to truly relax.

movie nights are spent with him analyzing the plot twists and character motivations, always trying to figure things out.

he likes quiet dates. walks in the park, studying together in the library, or just sitting in comfortable silence while you both read.

he needs reassurance. he’s so used to people doubting him, so he needs to hear that you believe in him and that you care.

cuddling? yes, please! he's a big softie deep down and loves the feeling of being close to you. he’s the little spoon most of the time, and he’s not afraid to admit it.

he’s fiercely protective of you. if anyone tries to hurt you, physically or emotionally, they'll have to deal with him.

don’t expect grand romantic gestures. his love language is acts of service and quality time. he’ll show he cares by helping you with your homework, making you coffee, or just being there when you need someone to listen.

he is a good listener; he will give you advice and he will give you comfort when you need it.

he isn’t very good at communication, so you’ll need to be patient with him. it might take a while for him to open up, but once he does, you’ll have his whole heart.

he would love to take naps with you. he would feel safe with you, safe from any kind of trouble.

he is very insecure about his quirk, so if you ever have any nightmares or if you are afraid of him, it might be the end of the relationship. he doesn’t want to hurt you, ever. he just wants to be loved.

his love language is physical touch. he loves to hold your hand, hug you, and just be close to you. especially when he is insecure about his quirk.

he secretly loves it when you wear his clothes. huge sweaters? yes!

He would ask aizawa for help because he is pretty much his dad at this point.

he absolutely hates PDA, but he would totally hold your hand or put his arm around you in public, just to let everyone know that you're his.

overall, dating hitoshi is a slow burn, but it's worth it. he's loyal, intelligent, and has a heart of gold hidden beneath his grumpy exterior. he will protect you at all costs and love you fiercely once he lets you in, and he’s a surprisingly good boyfriend.

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

verryyy rough draft i barfed all my ideas into on my notes app at 1am

cw: self harm, semi-graphic self harm, implied (sorta) eating disorder, erasermic adoptive parent agenda sorry, author SUCKS at dialogue

i love shinso so much i need to project onto him and see him suffer

hitoshi noticed a lot of things—the way people moved, the tone of their voices. it wasn’t that he cared; it was just how his mind worked, always observing.

shinso mostly kept to himself, sometimes joining denki and the others at lunch but often choosing not to say much. one afternoon, denki caught him staring down blankly at the table. “you okay, man?” he asked, concern softening his tone.

kirishima handed him a protein bar with a kind smile. shinso’s hands wobbled as he reached out. “yeah,” he muttered, eyes still downcast staring at the texture of the table.

denki’s expression softened. “we’re here if you need anything.”

the rest of his day was weighed down by exhaustion, hitoshi slipped into the student bathroom and locked the door. tucked in the back of his phone case was a brand new unopened razor blade—what he called his “comfort,” a reminder that he still had at least some control. the first cut was shallow and familiar, offering a fleeting sense of release. more cuts followed, and soon blood pooled down his arm, bringing a harsh wave of reality with it. his hands trembled as he grabbed toilet paper to wipe away the blood, hoping it wouldn’t seep through his blazer. he glanced up at his reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the face looking back at him.

the rest of his day was worse. he barely passed a test he even studied for, and during class, he could feel his teacher’s eyes lingering on the bandages peeking out from under his blazer making him feel like all eyes were on him.

“i’m going up to do homework,” hitoshi muttered, dragging himself up the stairs as soon as he got home. “hitoshi,” aizawa said, his voice serious but calm. “we know you’re hurting yourself.” shinso froze, his breath quickening. “what?” he managed, panic bubbling beneath the surface. “we found blades,” aizawa continued, his tone unwavering.

shinso stiffened, anger flaring over panic. “you went through my stuff?”

“your teacher called us, we’re worried about you,” yamada said, tone gentle but resolute.

“so you went through my fucking stuff?” hitoshi shouted, shoving past them and storming into his room. he tore through his things—drawers, under the mattress, behind his pc—nothing.

aizawa stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “they’re gone. you won’t find them.”

“where did you put them?” shinso’s voice cracked with desperation.

“i’m not telling you,” aizawa said firmly. “we’re not letting you hurt yourself.”

“please,” shinso’s voice dropped to a whisper, eyes wide with panic, tears filling his waterline. “i need them.”

aizawa’s expression softened but remained resolute. “this alone should be proof you need help, hitoshi. there are better ways to manage your stress. we’re here to help.”

shinso’s panic surged, and he bolted for his bathroom, locking the door behind him. his hands shook as he reached for the last hidden razor hidden away in his phone case. rolling up his sleeve, he stared at the maze of scars, tears blurring his vision.

“i don’t want help,” hitoshi whispered to no one but himself, sliding down the door with his back, grappling with how everything had come to this.

shinso squeezed his eyes shut breath hitching as he heard the lock on the door clicking, signaling shouta found the key. aizawa stepped into the bathroom and crouched next to shinso, eyes steady as he took the blade and held shinso as he crumbled against him.

blah blah blah conclusion very rough draft i made at 2am to at least get my ideas out,,, not my usual content at all but i felt like i should post this on here too

shoutout to the fic i read 3 years ago that keeps making me think about this

This is delicious ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

HORNY BRAINROT.

☆ includes: aged up! various characters from bnha

☆ warnings: 18+ content, reader is gn or fem depending on the scenario, drug use (weed & alcohol), somnophilia (consent given prior!!), nsfw. not proofread

thinking of izuku coming back home after a long day at the agency; he bends you over the kitchen table you were both about to eat on, and he skips dinner and goes in for dessert between your thighs.

sucking on eijirou’s cock desperately while he pushes your head down and tells you to take it. when he gets close, he yanks your head off him and you switch to jerking him off, your eyes closing as his cum sprays on your face. he groans loudly when you sweep your fingers across your wet skin and then suck on them, looking up at him innocently.

always a lover of public sex, dabi fucks you in alleyways, on rooftops, behind cars at night, and all across the city. he especially enjoys taking you from behind, your back pressed against his chest and his hand wrapped around your throat — he often fucks you like this in sight of the sky during the #2 hero’s patrols.

sometimes hitoshi can’t sleep, so he gently pulls the blankets away from your sleeping figure, admiring you in the dark. he’ll kiss your tummy, hips, and pelvis, then peel away your underwear, his tongue rushing to taste the sweetness between your folds. when you cum, you moan as though you’re in a dream, rarely waking up — occasionally he’ll make you cum so hard you wake up gasping his name.

keigo finds himself feeling overwhelmed when you ride him, his eyes rolling back and his entire body shaking each time he sees your greedy pussy swallow the whole length of his cock. as he unravels more and more, his wings represent how he feels with their wild movements. when he cums loudly, his wings rush in, wrapping around the both of you, pulling you close to him.

despite his shy demeanor, tamaki is a FREAK. he’ll have you sit in a chair, blindfolded, limbs tied to the back and the legs. then, he’ll tease you with kisses and touches, lightly slapping your thighs if you try to pull free to touch him. after a long while, he’ll spread your pussy open and spit onto your clit, then tease you further.

speaking of spitting, katsuki enjoys spitting into your pussy as well, or making you spit onto his cock to lube it up for sex or jerking him off.

i offer u: denki + hanta tag team. hanta’s on his back, your back is on his chest, his cock is stretching out your ass. while he’s thrusting up into your ass and holding you close, denki’s fucking in and out of your pussy with his overstimulated cock. his cum drips from your cunt and trickles down hanta’s cock, adding more lubrication. a threesome with these two would be insane because they would try out every position and cum once from it before stopping.

despite hating it when you edge him, shoto loves it. he’ll sigh shakily, hissing out, “ah— god, make me cum already, stop fucking with me!” but when you let him get real close, he begs you to stop and edge him. it’s confusing but ultimately he enjoys it, and always cries when he cums after edging.

drinking with katsuki always gets rowdy; he’ll show you off, get jealous more easily, and fuck you harder. after a night at the bar and way too many shots, he hops into an uber with you and heads to an expensive hotel instead of your home. katsuki books a big room, the one with the best view of the city and streets (it’s also 2-4 stories up from the lobby). when you get into the room, he practically rips your clothes off, pushing you against the big window overseeing the people and cars beneath. then, he fucks you right against the window, your tits pressed against the glass.

dry humping with eijirou in his agency office with an unlocked door, his hard cock rubbing against your pussy through layers and layers of clothing. when his precum is dripping through his underwear, and your panties are soaked with your slick, he removes whatever’s in the way, besides your underwear. when you start to get loud as his clothed cock creates more friction against you, he pulls off your wet underwear and stuffs them into your mouth, saying, “shh, baby. you have to be quiet, okay? don’t want any of the staff coming in, right?”

sharing a joint with keigo on the balcony of your shared apartment, plumes of smoke swirling around you as he spreads your legs. he always enjoys making out with your pussy before he eats you out, taking your folds and clit between his lips as he drags his tongue against you. he stares up at you with reddened eyes, desperate for your approving moans and facial expressions.

being fucked doggy style by izuku, either in your pussy or ass, as he praises you and your beautiful reflection in the mirror. “oh, you’re so gorgeous.. make me feel so damn lucky every time i look at you.” if you refuse to look, he leans over you, his pecs pressing into your upper back as he tugs your chin. he demands, “watch yourself cum” or “if you look away, i’ll stop pounding you”

shoto always cums within a few minutes of 69ing with you.. the way you desperately hump at his face and gobble down his cock always proves to be too damn much for him. he used to feel embarrassed, but now he just pushes through the overstimulation and adjusts you how he likes, slurping at your pussy loudly as you moan on his cock.

sexting with denki during his work hours, and sending him sneaky photos of your tits/ass/pussy when you know he’s busy. he’s always so quick to read your messages, and he rushes to the bathroom to hide his boner in a stall. he texts you to tell you what he’s gonna do to you, how desperate he is, or he’ll send mirror selfies, his hard cock visible through his pants.

phone sex with dabi, who easily makes you torture yourself. and god, does he sound good — he tells you what to do, rewarding you with his moans/groans or pictures. he’ll talk you through your orgasm, demanding that you keep fingering yourself or stop to ruin it. if you sob over his instructions, he’ll briefly reassure you, and then tell you to shut up and do what he says (he reminds you to be a good girl/slut or threatens to not fuck you).

god.. hitoshi loves filming you going dumb on his cock. most of the videos in his ‘us vids’ folder start off with him praising you as he moves the camera around your body, capturing every inch of you. “so pretty, god damn.” as the video progresses from gentle to rougher, his hand is wrapped around your neck, squeezing enough for you to gasp often. you’re a mess, babbling pleas as you cry his name, eyes rolling back and drool slipping from the corner of your mouth. by the time he’s cumming, you’re begging for him to fill you up, not a single other thought in your head. later, still filming, he thumbs away the saliva at the corner of your mouth; he kisses you and asks if you’re okay.

food play with tamaki, who eagerly gobbles strawberries off your tits, or the whipped cream designs all over your pelvis. even after your skin is free from all the sweetness or its residue, he licks you hungrily, then starts to bite hickeys into your skin. he blushes when you pinch one of his sensitive ears between your fingers and give it a tug — “tamaki, put your tongue to good use and eat me out.”

⋆˚࿔ boyfriend tag

you’re a popular youtuber asking your boyfriend to participate in a new ‘boyfriend tag makeup’ trend.

— includes: kirishima, kaminari, sero & shinsou (in that order)

contains: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff, baby + babe used and some feminine compliments with kiri

authors note: i need some youtuber suggestions guys pls

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou

⋆˚࿔ nerd status

the mha boys with their nerdy s/o!

— includes: kirishima, kaminari, sero, shinsou (in that order)

contains: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff

authors note: everyone thank ari for the awesome idea!! i just made a nerd someone who’s super interested in a topic (varies but i try to be broad) and smart!

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima

eijiro tries his very best to keep up with your rambling but most of the time just ends up smiling and nodding. when he does understand a topic he asks you a lot of questions about it, encouraging you to keep talking. “okay i didn’t quite understand it that time… but explain it again and i’m sure i’ll get it eventually!”

eiji unironically calls you smartypants, bookworm, and his genius while cupping your face and sprinkling you with kisses. if you even say that you feel ‘too nerdy’ he immediately reassures you. (with more kisses)

comic book store trips with you are his favorite thing ever! he will buy you any comic you want while he stares at the action figures in complete awe; it’s a win-win situation.

if you find yourself correcting his pronunciation of a word— which is pretty often —he’ll gladly thank you. “woah babe, i would’ve never caught that! you’re so smart.” will never shut up about how knowledgeable you are. 

eijiro asks you what sources are reliable so he can learn more about your interest! he takes notes on your past and current interest for future references. he just adores seeing you beaming with happiness.

eiji makes sure to pick up on whatever your fixates on before holidays and events so he knows he’s gifting you according!

he isn’t the best at studying but when you’re the one making flash cards he somehow can understand things way better. “you’re like the best teacher!” he says after a tiring hour of studying. 

if anyone tries to make fun of you he’s ON that. “excuse me, what did you just say?” and then he gives a passionate speech about how awesome you are to whoever was making comments about you. it definitely scares them off. 

when you fall asleep on your desk, reading an article about one of your favorite documentaries, eiji makes sure to take your reading glasses off— kissing the lenses first —and slipping a pillow under your head, wishing you a goodnight.

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

you two spend hours talking about your interest; well it’s more of you spending hours attempting to explain them while denki keeps muttering, “what?” “how is that even possible?” “no way that’s a real word!”

denki pretends to not understand something so you can keep talking. he’ll ask you to repeat yourself, zone out to the sound of your voice when you do, and then ask you to explain again. 

although denki is super into it when you talk about conspiracy theories and paradoxes, “how could the cat be dead and alive?? this literally doesn’t make any sense.”

tried to mock once by saying “well actually 🤓☝️” and cried after when you give him the silent treatment.

denki acts like you're his own personal tutor, “babe, help me study please! my brain is smooth and yours is— probably super wrinkly!” he will be super dramatic if you tutor someone else before him, like will look you dead in the eye and ask if you hate him after. 

will buy you crappy matching polyester hoodies. “you look so good in that!” he coos, then takes a dozen pictures of you. you burn the hoodie after.

if you occasionally wear glasses he is so obsessed with seeing you in them. will (desperately) coax you two into studying just so he can see you push the frame back up the bridge of your nose and squint your eyes. 

if you’re trying to study something he’ll be by your side scrolling through tiktok and sing along to the songs. he does this a couple of times before realizing it’s messing with your focus, “im sorry baby, how about i make it up to you with some kisses?” he grins. the worst study buddy. 

denki will tell everyone you’re the smartest person on earth and fully believes it. 

if you’re interested in animals he’ll bring you to zoos/aquariums and listen to you as you explain how their nervous systems’ work. 

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

hanta will buy you stickers, keychains, and little trinkets of whatever you’re fixated on. he’ll help you decide how to decorate with them too. by the months end you'll find your shelf full of favorite things!

hanta encourages you to randomly pop quiz him on what you’ve been talking to for the past week. he passes most of the time!

pretends like he’s jotting down notes during your study dates but he’s really just doodling a poorly drawn portrait of you. he’ll show you after and begs you to hang it up in your dorm room (you do).

will place his chin on your shoulder and hover over your laptop while you browse your favorite topics. “are we sure this is more interesting than me?” he’d whine. 

hanta will google one thing about your current fixated topic and randomly drop it into conversation to try and impress you. “did you know octopuses have three hearts? oh you did! well— me too!”

your nerdiness catches up to hanta when it comes to dates. dates where he lets you ramble about books while holding your hand, walks in the park where he asks dumb questions just to make you laugh, and deep conversations at a coffee shop where he’s hanging onto every word you say.

museum trips; you both put on really cool outfits and hanta makes sure to compliment you a lot! you'll explain and geek out every exhibit and hanta will just go, “hold still for me mi alma?” and take more pictures.

hanta LOVES documentary nights. will break down every scene with you; the cinematography, the metaphors, the costume design. 

comic store browsing is a big thing for you two as well. you will spend hours sitting on the store's carpet floor with hanta beside you. you take turns reading out loud and only leave after the librarian complains about your loud laughing for the fifth time.

if he catches you overworking yourself with work he’ll insist on taking care of you. he’ll put your stuff away, help you with your skincare routine, and tuck you into bed. “leave some of those brain juices for tomorrow my love,” he says as he kisses your forehead.

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou

hitoshi is a chronic nod and smiler, though he does has some sort of understanding of what you say. he actually loves intellectual conversations. if you start talking about philosophy, psychology, or just some deep nerdy topic, he’s fully engaged. “damn… never thought about it like that.”

hitoshi won’t straight up admit he started watching your favorite show or reading your favorite book, instead he starts asking questions about characters or shares his theories …. turned out he’s very hooked.

hitoshi likes to observe your face when your focused, picks up on all your little habits like mumbling to yourself and repetitive tapping on the desk. 

he’s a night owl so if you stay up late working on a passion project he’ll keep you company.

hitoshi will ensure that you get enough rest for the next day no matter what, even if it takes him dragging you into bed. “come on, your eyebags are gonna be worse than mines if you keep this up.”

his nerdy pickup lines are a joke.. at first. after a long day of studying the periodic table hitoshi will say “are you made of copper and tellurium? because you’re cu-te.” if you don’t immediately laugh he’d add “okay so that was cringy i’ll just die then.”

you and hitoshi spend a lot of time in the library, both of you thriving on the silence and an opportunity to focus.

you can not degrade yourself when hitoshi is around. he’ll hold you by both shoulders and say, ”you literally just explained all of human evolution to me like it was nothing. you’re a genius, shut up.” gentle tough love.

hitoshi’s favorite fixations of yours is anything related to history. he wants to learn about the edo period, meiji restoration, the death of emperors and you are the perfect learning outlet.

he is genuinely is fascinated by how well you take in and understand information like it’s nothing. 

⋆˚࿔ maroon stains : part one here

authors note: if you spot the lady bird reference i love you

word count: 2.5k

the weekend had rolled over as quickly as the breeze on that winter morning. it was tuesday, which meant most classes would be focused on one-to-one hand combat and critical thinking strategies. memories of the impulsive bet made days ago had almost faded from your mind. 

almost.

you were adjusting the zipper on your hero costume when mina’s chin suddenly found itself comfortably resting upon your shoulder. “guess what!” she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the fighting ground walls.

you looked up and over your other shoulder to see denki struggling to stand still behind you. 

immediately, you became suspicious. 

you nodded towards denki, signaling him to spit out whatever it is he had to say. 

“class b is joining us today!” denki’s face lit up as the words rushed out of his mouth. he wiggled his eyebrows while you took a couple of seconds to process his words.

“class b..?” you quoted. your eyebrows were quick to furrow when you looked over to the entrance door to see class b’s students filing into the room. “oh no, please.” you groaned. maybe you managed to (at least try to) tuck away the bet deep in your mind but you knew for sure your two friends didn’t. 

“class a, class b, listen up!” mr. aizawas' voice echoed in a similar way to minas, just groggier. both classes gathered around him, everyone standing with their friends. you glanced over at shinsou who was standing next to monoma with his arm crossed. 

you turned away, not wanting to risk catching his gaze.

“so!” mr. kan stood tall next to mr. aizawa, putting his hands together. “today we will be…” 

class b’s homeroom teacher went on to explain the sparring activity. you tried to listen but it was hard when mina and denki hovered over your shoulder like a tiny little angel and devil— though in this scenario they are both the devils.

you could practically feel their eyes drinking in the view of the shinsou and you had no doubt that shinsou could feel it too.

still, you joined them, really taking a moment to look at the boy. 

you had first interacted with shinsou all the way back at the sports festival when he was still a general studies student. when he joined the hero class, when you were in your second year, you two became more acquainted. of course you knew his quirk, his basic fighting styles: what he’s good at and what he can improve on. and thanks to a couple of smoking sessions— never one on one —you knew he had a love for cats and badly made indie films. 

you found yourself wondering if you’d know more things about him after this. like his morning routine or how he decorated his room.

observing him now you can really see how tousled his lavender hair is and how his eyes lay low and firm. his fingers played along the hem of his binding scarf. he let his eyes flicker from the scarf's hem, to his teacher, and then to mr. aizawa. his expression fell into a more serious one, and you found yourself having to forcibly pry your eyes off of him. geez.

you brought your focus back to mr. aizawa, just in time to hear him say, “you can pick your sparring partner. but if i see one person fooling around, the whole class will be writing a paper instead.” 

“ou ou! mr. aizawa! i have a question!” denki jumped, holding onto your shoulder and waving his hands dramatically. “can we work with someone from the other class?” he serenaded, nudging his shoulder with yours.

mr. aizawa’s face fell for a moment before he took a deep sigh, “yes you may. but you must behave or it’s three more papers to write.” his tone was stern. denki pumped his fist in the air, declaring victory. “now go find a partner.”

mina shook you aggressively from your shoulders, temporally swirling your vision. you couldn’t get a chance to focus out of your dizziness before she yelped, “here's your chance!”. she grinned as she pushed you forward and in shinsou’s direction. “help me!” she ushered denki to her side and they both began pushing you towards shinsou, giggling as they did. 

“are we really sure this is a good— oh, hi shinsou!” you exclaimed. after being grabbed and practically dragged you suddenly found yourself in front of the mysterious boy. you attempted to grounding yourself as denki and mina crept backwards. you and shinsou both silencely waited for them.

when they were a safe distance away shinsou spoke, “l/n,” he voice was deep, deeper than you remember. it scratched your brain in a way you didn’t want to think about.

“shinsou,” you stupidly repeat, the word just slipping out of your mouth. “let’s partner up.” you rushed, trying to cover up the way his name tasted in your mouth. “if you want to.” you added. you wanted to be assertive, not pushy. 

his eyes soften when you speak but they don’t have trouble finding their way back into a moderate scold. he glanced back at monoma before looking at you again, “sure.” he says, and you swear his voice is not as uninterested as it usually is. 

you decide it wouldn’t hurt to let yourself think that he isn’t totally put off by the idea. 

you hear a faint cheer in the distance and already know it came from denki because of the way mina started loudly shushing him.

you glance back, “ah sorry, my friends are dorks.” you say through a sucked in breath. you could feel the tip of your ears burn.

“just talk to him, be your normal self. and i bet he’ll fall for you!” you sighed as mina’s words looped in your mind. just act natural.

shinsou examined your face before replying, something in his demeanor changing. “i don’t mind.” he hung his head, shaking it slightly. you could see a small smile appearing on his face, like he was grinning out of pure disbelief. 

“once you’ve found your partner, please reserve a training station!” mr. van shouted.

you and shinsou made your way over to the station located at the every corner of the training grounds. the ground familiarly crunched underneath your boot as you entered the rocky terrain. you placed a firm foot on the ground, searching for a comfortable stance. a couple feet across from you shinsou did the same.

once you find your balance you look up, “are you ready?” 

shinsou shook his shoulders a couple of times, loosing up. “yeah, i’m ready.” he announced. he had a shining glint in his eyes, the reflection boasting in confidence. he’s definitely ready.

“alright. three, two—“ before the last number was able to leave your mouth there was a loud noise.

the— surprisingly —old speaker sputtered as it announced, “may mei hatsume please make her way down to the principal's office.” a disappointed voice spoke from the speakers. 

hatsume.. it’s probably another law violation.

you brought your attention back to shinsou and your pending match, only to see that shinsou's confident stance had become a hunched over one. 

“shit, what happened?” you hurried over to him, immediately getting down on his level. you placed a hand on his back and another on shoulder and tried to see if he had any physical injuries. 

u.a. had always taught its students to be wary of other’s quirks and how the outside world may affect quirks in ways you wouldn’t expect. so maybe that maybe the speakers had an effect on shinsou’s mind quirk, it wouldn’t be totally out of line. 

your eyes ran across shinsou’s body, landing on his face which was in an awful grimace. “was it the speakers?” you murmured, making sure not to speak too loudly.

shinsou nodded, bringing and hand up to rub his forehead. “i’m fine.” he muttered. your grip on his tighten as you encouraged him to stand up. shinsou’s straightened his posture with a groan. eventually, he lifted his head up, his cloudy eyes finding yours.

his cheeks were slightly flushed. his pupils were just barely, but noticeably, dilated. his expression was still slightly scrunched up but when he caught your eye, his face went soft again. and for the second time you found yourself having to pull your eyes away from his. 

when you did, you noticed blood seeping from his nose.

“your nose—“

shinsou’s eyes widen, “oh shit—“ he reacted swiftly and threw his head back, his hand cupping over his nose. 

you understood the headache, but the nosebleed? right when you made eye contact. what did he think when your eyes locked? was it crazy enough to get such a reaction out of him?

the fantasy bubble inflating inside your head was sudden to pop.

“i get nosebleeds.” shinsou stifled out, digging into his pocket and pulling out a tissue. “sorry if it scared you.” he said as wiped the blood off of his upper lip.

“oh no! it didn’t scare me at all!” you waved your hands defensively. 

obviously, he gets frequent nosebleeds. you couldn’t believe you really were letting your mind grow foggy with all the stuff mina and denki were talking about the other day. 

“i was just worried.” you finished after a couple of seconds, your words steadily dwindling into a mutter.

shinsou raised a brow, taking an obvious observation in your strange behavior. he glanced over his shoulder where the emergency doors were located. he turned back to you, “i should really go to the infirmary. recovery girl says i should report to her immediately everytime something like this happens because of my quirk.”

“even a nosebleed?” you question, “i mean those are pretty minor—“

“yes.” he insisted, “even a nosebleed, now come on.” shinsou didn’t wait for an answer. instead, he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the exit of the grounds.

once you were on the other side of the emergency doors you furrowed your brows, “if you needed to go to recovery girl then why'd we leave from the emergency exit and not the main one?” you are hesitant, something wasn’t adding up. but still, you followed close beside him.

shinsou stifled a laugh, “so you’re not stupid?”

“what?” you stopped in your tracks, feeling offended. not only was shinsou not romantically interested in you but he also seemed to not like you at all. stupid bet, stupid results.

shinsou laughed out loud this time, “i mean, mina, and denki. they couldn’t be any louder.” shinsou crossed his arms, “so they made you partner with me? really?” his tone was mostly teasing, a cheesy grin colored his face.

“i —“ you found yourself at a loss for words. shinsous attitude had changed into one you’d never seen before, but it made sense. every part of your body seemed to burn under his gaze. 

“you heard that.” you said weakly. 

shinsou nodded his head. 

“well technically..” you attempted to stall for an excuse but none came. “they didn’t make me… it— it was a bet.” you finally confessed.

shinsou raised his brows like he was being greatly amused. he bit his inner cheek as he nodded his head, “that’s not even original.” he commented.

“i’m sorry, this is so stupid—” 

“chill out. i didn’t come out here to like, interrogate you,” he said. he leaned against the wall, arms still crossed. “honestly i think it’s pretty cute that you thought i got a nosebleed because of you.”

your entire body immediately flushed hot.

“i didn’t!” you shouted, but the quiver in your voice unmasked your true feelings. “in my defense, i always thought you’re actually pretty cool!” 

“oh yeah?” shinsou pushed.

letting your emotions control over your logic you took the bait, “yeah! this was just me making an effort for us to actually become friends!” though you were repeating hanta’s excuse from the day before, you found that the words felt true now. 

the echo you left in the empty hall snapped you out of your emotional daze. your face darken as you shriveled down into yourself. “this whole thing was stupid.. just forget it. sorry if i hurt your feelings.” you turned away slightly, not wanting shinsou to see how humiliated you felt. this whole scenario had gotten out of hand and you recognized the fact that you may have slightly overreacted.

it was shinsou fault for having a stupidly alluring presence. 

it’s your fault for needing a bet to have enough courage to talk to him. 

when shinsou didn’t reply right away you glanced back at him. his eyes had softened, the same way they did when you first went up to him. the same way they did when you ushered to his aid a couple minutes ago.

“hey,” he said, his voice soft. his body seemed less tense as he took a step towards you. “i’m not mad,” he scoffed, “it’s really not that serious.” 

“was that supposed to reassure me?” your tone was light. you didn’t want to bite back too much, after all this was your fault. but you were still reasonable angry.

shinsou let out an airy laugh, “yeah, i know i’m not the best at that stuff.” he stuffed his hand inside his pockets as he finally stood by your side. “but i didn’t call you out here to just laugh at you.” he spoke as if you were fragile and would break if he uttered a word too loud. “did you really think my outfit was nice?” 

you knew exactly what he was referencing. the end of the year party all classes had thrown a couple of months ago. 

you had to bite back a smile recalling the memory. he had worn baggy dark wash jeans and a graphic tee from the band, ‘pearl jam’. you stumbled over to him, drink in hand. the cheap mix of various convenience store alcohol gave you the courage to comment on your matching t-shirts. that night he laughed, and you considered it a victory.

“just be yourself.”

“that was a while ago.” you settled on saying, glancing at his face.

he looked at the window ahead, “feels like yesterday the way i keep thinking about it.” 

you took a deep breath, knowing what he was hinting at. 

“i know you just said you thought i was cool,” he said, finally locking his eyes on you again. “could you let me confirm that?” his head tilted slightly as he asked, his tone careful.

you turned to fully face him and considered your options. cool guy, awesome quirk, and surprisingly a pretty cheesy. he couldn’t be more of your type. you searched his deep velvet eyes for a sign of regret, untruthfulness, anything that would force you to walk away. 

but you felt the corners of your lips curl up into a smile as more red peek out from his nose. you pointed at his dripping nose, “you sure it was the speakers?” your tone was playfully cocky. you had made your decision.

“fuck—“

could i req an smau (pre-relationship) where reader accidentally sends the boys a text about them, meaning to text one of the girls. (specifically izu, kiri, hitoshi, and hanta)

ily and ur work, tysmmm🫶🏻 i know you don’t write for izu often so if you wanna switch him out w someone else its cool. content for him has just been dry lately😭

⋆˚࿔ confused confessions

— includes: midoriya, kirishima, sero, shinsou & kaminari (in that order)

contains: gn!reader, pre-relationship, fluff, cute and adorable used, one k*s joke

authors note: anon i love ur brain this was so fun to do hopefully i didn’t mess up izuku character! also couldn’t help but add a little denki i miss him guys

⋆˚࿔ i.midoriya

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

just saw your cheerleader x bhna boys and 🤯🤯 I LOVE ITT

could you do this but with musical theatre reader and maybe add shinso?? 💗🤗

⋆˚࿔ behind the spotlight

— includes : kirishima, kaminari, sero, & shinsou (in that order)

contains: mostly gn!reader but eiji and denki say girlfriend once, fluff, established relationship, babe and baby used

authors note: thank u for the request anon! i’ll take this as a sign to never exclude shinsou again lolol so i added a little extra for u shinsou fans

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima

eijiro is your biggest fan, making you feel like a mainstream actor. when you tell him you landed the lead role in newest musical, he seemed to be more excited than you! “i know you could do it, you’re the best!”

eijiro acts like your manager—a super nice one of course—he helps you rehearse your lines and guides you through warming up your voice.

he comes to every rehearsal he can make it too. eijiro cheers for you and your peers. your peers actually love him, how could they not? stage crew like to use him to carry and lift things, he enjoys doing these things knowing they help you in the long run.

secretly memorizes all the songs (and learns the meaning behind each of them) you’re singing so he won’t only be watching but also understanding.

his favorite musical is legally blonde! he thinks it’s super fun and elle woods quickly becomes his new inspiration.

on opening night, he gives you a bouquet of flowers before you go and stage. even in a rush he can’t help but encourage you, “can’t wait to see you on stage baby, i’m so excited.”

he is cheesing in the front row seats, his eyes not leaving you for a single second. he’s the first one standing when the show is over, clapping as the curtains come to a close.

“you were so good!” he engulfs you in a bear hug and you laugh. he is also brought to tears when he sees your glowing face, you’re like a real-life star and he gets to live in your glory.

after another bouquet of flowers and a million praises, he finally takes you home.

for the next three week he’s singing non-stop, the songs from the musical stuck in his head.

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

denki doesn’t know much about musical theater but after watching your first performance he finds that it’s his new eye candy.

when you tell him you landed the lead role denki grins, “what do i always say? my girlfriend is crazy talented!” his arm is draped around your shoulder. he pulls you closer, leaning down to kiss your cheek, “you’re gonna do amazing, i know it.”

tries his best to help you rehearse but gets distracted. “wait so, she has a crush on her sister's husband? that’s fucked up man.” even with his confusion he still manages to be super into the drama of it all.

denki lets you practice your stage makeup on him and is actually excited when you ask him to. thought by the end of it, he’s unsure, “are my cheeks supposed to be that… pink?”

would lose his mind if you had to do an onstage kiss. “can’t you just high-five instead! i mean you don’t have to kiss!” he says while he crosses his arm, practically pouting.

his favorite musical is heathers, no explanation needed. spongebob is a close second.

has tried to help backstage once but accidentally bumped into a switch and caused a power outage. the stage crew has been a little more cautious around him after that.

arrived to your show right as it starts so he can’t see you face to face until after the show, he’s devastated about this.

runs backstage as soon as the curtains fall, screaming. “BABE! YOU DID GREAT OUT THERE!” crushing you in a hug. he pulls back to hand you some flowers, the bouquet looking a bit shabby because he got fidgety during the show. “you're a star, should sign with broadway.” he teases as he walks you out.

denki somehow convinced the other theater kids to have an after party. so you spend the night celebrating with your boyfriend who makes this accomplishment feel special.

he may have auditioned for the next show to surprise you but didn’t get the role so he never told you about it.

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

hanta acts chill, but in the inside, he is amazed on how you keep on becoming more and more perfect, “lead role? holy shit babe that’s huge!” he brings you close and ruffles your hair “looks like i got an actor on my hands now.” he teases.

hanta is an absolute sweetheart, but he’s no actor. “oh no, how could you do this to me. i’m in completely despair.” he reads off the script with not a single hit of emotion behind his words. he then looks up with you with a grin, “did i do it good?” he’s trying his best to help you.

if you have a dance-heavy role he’ll joke about being jealous of your dance partner (he is not joking, he is jealous). he offers to help you practice dancing; this is mostly for his own pleasure.

tried to harmonize with you once but his voice cracked. hasn’t attempted to sing again since that day.

adds little encouraging doodles in the margins of your script. some with encouraging messages like, “you got this superstar!” others are… not so encouraging “i should’ve been cast as your super hot and cool love interest.”

got banned from watching your rehearsals because he would cheer every time you said your lines and boo everytime your love interest spoke. (denki was there supporting—booing—too)

his favorite musical was matilda, but after finding out that it’s originally british he changed it to mamma mia. now he can’t help but cry whenever he hears slipping through my fingers.

brings you chocolates and flowers on opening night. gives you a forehead kiss before you go on stage. “i’m might be more nervous than you,” he lets out an airy laugh and you end up having to comfort him. “break a leg!” he says as you walk off, his voice still weary.

he pretends to be causal when he sees you preform for the first time but how could he? you were perfect in every way and so impossible to ignore.

“you are so awesome.” is all he can say when you come off the stage. he is absolutely starstruck. he pulls you a long hug because he is just so freaking proud of you.

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou

hitoshi is a part of the tech/backstage crew for the theater. he’s seen all the shows and actors before. so it comes to no surprise to him when you tell him you got the lead role, knowing how good you are. “of course you got the lead baby, you’re the best actor here.” he almost laughs at your modesty.

you both being theater heads leads to a lot of helping each other out! arriving at the theater early to help him prepare the stage speakers while you warm up your voice.

hitoshi is ecstatic when you ask him to adjust your mic or move the lights. he’ll take any chance he can to help you out.

if you’re alone in the theater rehearsing, hitoshi sometimes likes to mess with you through the intercom “that’s not how you said the line last time!” he calls out. you didn’t even know he was watching you.

lets you ruffle his hair and mess with his headset.

maybe the other actors don’t know it, but the stage crew does. hitoshi makes sure the stage crew never hears the end of your achievements. he doesn’t even mean to, he just finds himself commenting on your performance.

“she’s really good at that.” he watches from backstage with a smile, speaking to no one in particular.

“be careful with that set piece, my girlfriend is on stage.” he says it deadpan, but eveyone knows he’s serious.

his favorite musical is the addams family, obviously.

consoles in izuku about color theory so he can learn what color stage lights will match best with your skin tone.

you get ready for opening night together. he zips up your costume and you tighten his tie. he gives you flowers and a high quality pair of sheer tights, you almost propose to him right there.

hitoshi is happy he has the pleasure of watching you backstage, seeing you from an angle no one else is.

you stand next to each other when the show is over, and the time comes to bow for the crowd. he doesn’t let go of your hand when the curtain drops. before you can even open your mouth to ask, he speaks “perfect, fucking perfect.” he praises as guides you into a gentle kiss.

omg haiii i love ur works sm hihi, i just read ur love language hc and i rlly enjoyed that!!!

sero's part there was so good that it made me sleep ????

this sounds quite silly, but can you do hcs/drabbles of them turning into cats

I've only seen such with more popular characters, but never with sero 😓 he needs more love and im running out of sero fics..

u can include who you want too!!

⋆˚࿔ chasing paws

— includes : sero & shinsou

𓂃　★　𓈒　a/n: this request is so cute and i need more sleep!

ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) photos of the cats i’m referencing are linked to their names!

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

black american shorthair, thick coat, long whiskers. grey eyes. has the sharpest claws ever. big ears, like humorously big.

super playful cat! always doing zoomies and climbing. will pounce on anything that moves. loves playing with string and feathers. catnip fein. attacks your couch like it’s a villian. he’s pretty jumpy too; likes to play peekaboo around the house.

short, chirpy meows. he gets along with other cats well; loves playfully wrestling them. overall very social and outgoing.

fairly clingy to you. rubs his head on your leg when he wants to get your attention. draws out his meows when you haven’t feed him yet. pawing your face in the morning and kneading your blankets. if he’s really comfortable and wants to be pet he’ll roll around on his back like a dog.

definitely tries to nip at your food when you’re not looking. favorite fish is salmon. fast and messy eater.

sleeps literally anywhere. on your lap, behind the tv, under the council, on the table, anywhere. likes to sleep on his side, no survival instincts at all.

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou

grey nebelung, long, soft coat, cat thumbs! deep green eyes. small ears and really soft paws. smaller than the average cat.

chill and well behaved cat. slow walk and a deep, low purr. loves loaf. good with kittens! likes playing with other cats but prefers to be with his human! hides your hair ties as socks under your bed when he’s bored.

100% a lap cat, spends half of his nap time there. sleeps more during the day than not. unlike human shinsou, cat shinsou sleeps a lot!

more of a scratcher than a biter. like plants and dirt and lowkey yearns for the outdoors. constantly staring outside at birds and people. likes walks, yes walks. tries to be friends with birds. like playing with those cat ball tracks and mouse toys.

likes having a little bit of whatever you’re eating to feel included. favorite fish is tuna.

likes to sleep where it’s warm; near heater, on your laptop, or cuddled up in blankets. sleeps with his paws covering his eyes. occasionally sleeps on your belly or tucked into the corner of your shoulder. stretches a lot in his sleep.

⋆˚࿔ love languages

the main forms of love languages the mha boys show toward you and how!

— includes: kirishima, kaminari, sero, & shinsou (in that order)

contains: f!reader strongly implied, feminine compliments used, established relationship, baby, girlfriend, my girl used, fluff fluff fluff, denkis is a little suggestive

authors note: this is like my head canons but in drabble format hehe! sorry shinsou's is short i'm still trying to figure out his charater ;(

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima - shows his love by overwhelming you with care

acts of service

eijiro's main love language is absolutely 100% doing acts of service for you all the time.

he’s holding the door open for you one second and running to pull out your seat the next, grinning like a dork.

he doesn’t want you to lift a single finger doing something that he can do for you.

it’s the small things: picking up the mail, buying your favorite snacks, giving you neck messages, taking out the trash, carrying you from one room to another when you don’t wanna get up.

he thinks you’re the best therefore you deserve the best.

he feels like SUCH a man when he can fix something for you.

words of affirmation

eiji also really loves to receive words of affirmation

even after fighting in a war, eijiro still feels himself having a low esteem.

though your encouraging words mean so much to him. you make him feel like he’s a capable hero. you spend hours in bed tangled up together. you hold him as you tell him how amazing he is. how he’s a strong hero, a great person, the perfect partner.

he’d get overwhelmed and cries as you shower him with love. just knowing that you think so highly of him makes him feel worthy. you definitely healed the little middle school kirishima in his heart.

eijiro might as well be a package deal because he is also amazing at giving words of affirmation. the most supportive boyfriend you could ever find.

goes in the mall dressing room with you to see you try on new outfits, he's paying (ofc). “i love that color on you baby.”

don’t even get me started with him dressing you.. flushing your shoulders with kissing as he fixes the strap of your top, every touch making you feel euphoric.

kneeling down to put your shoes on, kissing along your leg as he does. “so beautiful.” he praises the ground you walk on.

when eijiro notices that you’re doing good with work he makes sure to let you know! two big thumbs on the side of his face “doing amazing, beautiful!” and makes kissy faces towards you.

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari - shows his love by never letting you go (literally)

physical touch

you and denki are constantly found with your hands, legs, (or both) tangled together.

chilling with bakusqaud? feet are kicking each other from across the couch. studying a case file? nope, denki can’t focus until his head is in your lap. completely drunk and dancing at a party? denki’s pressed up against you with his hand ghosting over your ass, letting everyone know you didn’t come here alone.

there’s not a single second of the day when his hands don’t snake their way onto your waist or lower hip, doesn’t matter if you're at home, work, or anywhere else.

because of his touchy tendencies, you two are always showing pda and he loves it.

denki SWEARS he’s trying his best to be respectful in public, but he can’t help but get addicted to the look on other guys faces when they see you leaning up to kiss him. hes so so proud that you choose to be with him.

but don’t be fooled by the lust! denki can be romantic too; though he's forever a dork.

he likes poking at ur sides when he’s teasing you. he kisses your face over and over again when you’re annoyed (until you smile a little).

gift giving

poor denki could be dirt broke, but when you come out of the dressing room wearing a top that perfectly hugs your figure his mouth drops, and his money goes poof.

“it’s so good, let’s get it yeah?” (hes gonna cry to his empty wallet when he gets home)

this prompts a lot of shopping dates which leads to a LOT of matching accessories. matching hats, hoodies, jewelry.

he has a ring with your initial on it he never takes off.

+ plus

denki has u as his lock screen and gives you (his phone) a kiss every morning he can’t sleep by your side.

would tweet: “just fell down to my knees in a walmart parking lot cus my girlfriend hasn’t texted back it been 30 mintues what do i do 💔”

has you and him as his profile picture on instagram and has a highlight of you titled: “my wife (BACK OFF)”

⋆˚࿔ h.sero - shows his love by showing you off

physical touch

he grew up with parents who never left the honeymoon phase, so he knows what it’s like to feel so much love and he knows how to show it. (he also grew up with two younger sisters and an older sister and they made sure he knew the standard!)

so hanta is a romantic confirmed!!

he’ll buy you a big bouquet of flowers. buys you gifts, even for small anniversaries/celebrations. slow dances with you in your living room. prepares a warm bath for you when you're stressed.

and although he’s more mature than denki, hanta still pretty immature. so, he’ll jump at you any opportunity to get his hands on you.

hanta loves when you two are hanging out with friends, sitting on bakugos couch, and he has the chance to wrap his arm around the top of the couch. he possessively hovers his hand over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him whenever someone looks your way.

hanta is taller than you and always uses this to his advantage. squeezing your face when you look up at him. leaning down to give you kisses. holding your side to guide you through crowds.

occasionally, you’ll let him pick you up from your armpits like a cat and dangle you. you don’t know why he likes this; he just does.

words of affirmation

now one of hanta's best qualities is definitely his confidence and the way he talks to you confirms that.

he reassures you without even meaning to. hanta can tell when your down and easily finds the perfect comment that makes your cheeks flush pink and your dopamine levels boost. “look at that,” he practically purrs when you finish an assignment “done already cariño? making me look bad.” he laughs, not caring who hears him.

(quick mention that he also loves to make you laugh; he prides himself in it actually)

showing you off, showing you off, showing you off. everyone knows who the pro-hero cellophane is dating, it's hard not to.

“yeah that’s my girl.” he says it stern, with a smirk on his face. it drives you INSANE.

⋆˚࿔ shinsou - shows his love by keeping you around

quailty time

it took a while for hitoshi to open up but when he did it was overwhelming for him. he thought wouldn’t be able to express his love for you. he soon realized just being in your presence was enough.

you love spending quality time with hitoshi. it doesn’t matter what you're doing, he wants to be there. doing chores together, planning your monthly schedules together, talking walks together.

hitoshi loves to hear you talk and learn more about you but he just loves to hear you laugh.

he likes teasing you like there’s no tomorrow with stupid jokes and stupider insults just to see you laugh over and over again.

physical touch

but once hitoshi gets comfortable, once he gets confident: he also gets cocky and handsy.

comes up to you and whispers in your ear, “come on, can you do it for me, baby?”

favorite cuddle positions is spooning and honestly doesn’t mind whose big or little spoon.

he holds you by the waist as he looks up with you with those eyes.

hitoshi is a jealous guy. he knows you’re fun to be around, he knows you have friends, and he knows it’s wrong to think this, but he hates not being with you.

but he also knows that when you get home, you’ll lay in his arms again and it’ll be alright so he’s patient until he can hold you again.

holding you from behind when you’re leaving to go out with coworkers. he’s kissing your cheek, “‘m gonna miss you. be safe,” gripping onto you like there’s no tomorrow.

once hitoshi learns to love you he never lets you go.

+ plus

he found that he likes to share his clothes with you and finds it funny that you practically drown in his hoodies.

when you give his hoodie back, he puts it on and smiles as the smell of your perfume fills merges into his skin.

bloom's my hero academia masterlist! ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜

note: works with w ‘⭑’ include nsfw/18+ content, minors dni with these post!

⋆˚࿔ smaus

melodies of us - d.kaminari

shared spaces - d.kaminari

fratastrophe - d.kaminari ⭑

gently yours - e.kirishima

new piercing - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

flirty and unfiltered - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

confused confessions - i.midoriya, e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

sticky situation - i.midoriya, e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

boyfriend tag - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

whined and dined - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

⋆˚࿔ oneshots

morning hues - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

tricks and tension - h.sero

when courage calls - h.shinsou - part two: maroon stains

where fire burns and molten melts - e.kirishima ⭑

the synonyms of epitome - h.sero

static hearts - d.kaminari ⭑

an orchid's pollen - e.kirishima

capes and crayons - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

in the near future - h.sero

⋆˚࿔ headcanons

love languages - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

cheer fever - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero

behind the spotlight - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

hyperactive heart eyes - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

nerd status - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

crushed reps - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou

⋆˚࿔ series

maturity of a broken constellation - t.shigaraki + t.todoroki [ ongoing ]

⋆˚࿔ morning hues

waking up with the mha boys !

— includes : kirishima, kaminari, sero & shinsou (in that order)

contains: f!reader implied, around 0.3k words each,fluff, established relationship (sorry i’m a sucker for romance) suggestive if you squint, usage baby + babe used, light swearing

authors note: my first drabbles ever guys how are we feeling ! can you guys tell who’s my favorite lolol

also here’s a link to the pose kirishimas is cus idk if i described it well enough haha

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima

eijiro is a light sleeper. so whenever you begin to shuffle in your sleep, your eyes slowly fluttering open, so does he.

when he finally does find himself fully conscious he immediately pulls you closer to him, yearning for your warmth. his big arms wrapped around your neck and his body pressed flush against yours.

“goodmorning baby.” his voice is rugged, eyes still closed as he places a delicate kiss on the outer shell of your ear.

you maneuver your head up so you can whisper out a small “morning.” before placing a kiss on his forearm. he flexes, pretending to choke you with his muscle. you giggle as your hand moves up to caress his biceps, a sign of appreciation.

he’s smiling, though you can’t see it, you just know. “how’d my girl sleep?” he asks, like he has been every single morning since you’ve gotten together. you’ll never get bored of it.

this is how you spend most early mornings. in bed together, waiting for the sunlight to stream through the bedroom window.

eijiro releases you from his grip, moving to gently rubbing your back as you recall the dream you had that night. you boldly explain the actions from your dream as he passionately listens, making additional comments along the way.

“hmm, yeah? that’s nice baby.” he coos into your ear as his hands rub up and down your shoulder, kisses being periodically planted on your skin.

when the words “i have to get ready.” would eventually escape your lips eijiro would insist you stay in bed a bit longer, he’d even ‘fight’ you for it.

his arms are propped up on either side of your face as he peppers kisses over your giggling face. “eiji, please,” you say between short breaths “i have to get ready for work!”

“i don’t want you to go,” he’d whine, only promising to let you go if you give him another kiss 🩷

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

“denki.” you complain for the fifth time. the golden haired boy, whose head is resting on your upper chest, remains still. you watch as his chest rises and falls with every breath, his brows occasionally furrowing. you sigh.

denki is a deep sleeper. usually he wakes up in the early afternoon (though if you two had a long night he could sleep until the late afternoon!!) he’s doesn’t like to admit it but you both know that his sleep schedule is so ass.

“babeee.” you groan. though you really enjoyed the view you also really had to get to work.

finally, he moves. “hmmm?” a low groan escapes his lips. he turns, attempting to bury himself into the crook of your neck.

you take time to drink in the image of your sleeping boyfriend as he nuzzles himself into you. you let out another sigh, this one holding less tension than the first. “kami.” you say, sweetly. your hands find their way to the base of his neck and your fingers slowly climbing up to play with his hair. his grip on you tightens, fingers digging into the side of your waist.

“i have to get up now, okay?” you place a soft kiss onto his sun dyed hair.

you wait a few seconds for a verbal reply and to your surprise (not really) you began to feel a wet patch forming on your neck. “denki.” you dead pan.

“yes y/n?” his eyes are sparking as he looks up at you, feigning innocence.

“that’s not going to work on me again dumbass.” you sit up and ruffle his hair, laughing sweetly at his attempt to keep you in bed.

“but baby-“ he starts to whine as he sits up as well.

when you get off your shared bed you finally see how disheveled he is. his shirt is a wrinkled mess, not to mention it’s slightly riding up his stomach. he’s blinking his eyes, very clearly trying to wake himself up. you bask in his beauty, a smile creeping up on your face.

“i have to get ready, really denks,” you try to put on a stern voice, but it’s hard to leave your boy.

“can you at least turn around before you go?” he ask as with a pout.

your brow cocks at the question. though it is a weird request, it’s your boyfriend request. so you oblige. “happy?” you ask, glancing back from your shoulder to examine the expression on his face.

his eyes are lit up and locked onto your body. “yeah,” his says, a dorky smile on his face as he lays back down. “so happy” he giggles, his voice dreamy.

he falls back asleep not too long after that, his dreams full of you.

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

when you sleep with your boyfriend, hanta, you often find yourself waking up comfortably tucked into the corner of his elbow.

surprisingly, hanta is an early bird and is up with the sun on most days. he likes to spend mornings getting ready together so he usually finds himself staying in bed scrolling on his phone while waiting for you to wake up.

when he sees your sleeping figure finally rise to life he can’t help but tease you a bit.

you attempt to rub the sleep away from your eyes as you turn over on your boyfriend's arm. when you finally open your eyes you’re met with a big grin plastered on the raven haired boy's face.

“look who’s finally awake,” he sings, his tone is teasing, but holding no real sting to it. he tucks his arm in, bringing you closer.

“goodmorning to you too hanta,” you say in a low voice, not being awake enough to play along with his playful attitude.

his face tilts to your reaction, noticing your low energy. he lets out a low hum before leaning to bite your cheek “sorry ma,” he mutters as he pulls away. “i meant to say, goodmorning beautiful,” he corrects.

you can’t help it as a smile creeps up on your face. he always knew exactly how to cheer you up. you bite the inside of your cheek as the outside burns a crimson color.

“such a tease,” you pout as your body moves to hover over his. you tilt your head up to kiss along his jawline, ready to get payback. he lets out a satisfied hum as his hand makes his way to your lower back, possessively laying there.

“y/n,” he starts, his voice is soft. he closes his eyes as his eyebrows knit together. you travel from his jawline down to his neck. he shutters when your soft lips touch his skin, as if you put him under a lovestruck spell.

“hmm?” you mumble from his neck. he opens his eyes to see yours locked onto his, their reflections toying with innocence.

he bites back the smile on his lips as his head falls back onto his pillow, his eyes falling closed once more.

when you pull away from his neck he lets out an airy laugh. “evil,” he says, peeking down at you as you laugh at him.

“that’s what you get,” you giggle.

his hands quickly find their way to you. he’s now holding your face in his hands, “you’re cute,” he breathes out as he squeezes your face, finally leaning in for a proper kiss.

“ready to get up now?”

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou

hitoshi knows the tell-tale signs of you waking up. he’s seen it so many times before. the way your face scrunches when the sunlight hits your eye. the way your lips fall open while intelligible mutters slip from your mouth.

so hitoshi waits. he doesn’t mind waiting anymore. not when you're lying on his chest, practically on display just for him. it’s all finally worth it when your muttering comes to a stop and your eyes slowly open.

you tilt your head up, your sleepy eyes meeting hitoshis. your boyfriends typically weary eyes are soft and tender as his gaze dances down your body.

“goodmorning,” he says in that deep voice that makes you feel so weak. he rubs your arm as you let out a relieved sigh.

“morning toshi,” you reply with a small smile. “switch?” you offer him.

hitoshi was quick to nods so you switch positions; toshi now sprawled out across your chest as you laid on your back underneath him. your hands raced to his hair, pushing his lavender locs back and massaging his scalp. the soft mewl of contentment he lets out makes your skin feel hot. “you sleep at all?” you ask, mostly to calm yourself down.

“like three, maybe four hours?” he said with shrug as if he was trying to downplay the situation. he dipped his head low, not knowing you could see the tip of his ears color themselves pink.

“not bad,” you say, placing a kiss to the crown of his head.

okay, maybe he hadn’t told you how he’s been sleeping way better because you're by his side. maybe he couldn’t handle hearing you say how proud of him while you kiss him all over. maybe he couldn’t handle how cute you’d look with a smile that big on your face.

yeah, he definitely couldn’t handle that. not yet.

he’s not new to your shared morning routine, but for some reason seeing you tousled up next to him in bed, early in the morning, still manages to make his heart race.

can you pls write a smau w the mha boys with the reader suprising them with their new piercings 💔

⋆˚࿔ new piercing, who’s this?

showing your boyfriend ur new piercing!

— includes: kirishima, kaminari, shinsou, & sero !

contains: feminine compliments, fluff

authors note: thanks for the request!

i MIGHT make a part two with different characters (katsuki, izuku, shoto, etc.) but i wanted to start with some of the lesser done characters because they deserve love too ❤️

soulmate trope | shinsou

Shinsou’s route of soulmate trope.

this one is for the touch-starved girlies who are scared of intimacy and scared of people leaving warnings: female reader has a very specific view of sex and intimacy: that someone sleeping with her and then leaving her would fucking ruin her psyche forever. so she's a big-ass, kissless virgin for nasty evil plot reasons. sexual intimacy and abandonment/commitment are major themes. pseudo-sex work, with shinsou's hobby/side-job. shinsou and reader toss around the term bitch as a playful insult. this version of reader is fairly insecure and anxious about being loved and lovable—but so is shinsou.

~29k

Kirishima had his tongue in Mina’s mouth.

Well, more accurately, sometimes it was in her mouth. He was visibly licking at her lips and around her mouth fairly often, letting saliva drool down both of their faces—Mina’s shirt had a damp spot near the neck. Their kissing skills seemed sloppy at best and fucking disgusting at average, making loud squelches, splorches, and suction noises, overall sounding very wet and a bit like walking through ankle-deep, thick mud in rubber rainboots. Their moans, too, didn’t sound very sensual—more like there’s someone in the next room sampling someone haunted museum sound effects with some overlapping Yoko Ono texture.

Kirishima’s hands cupped Mina’s boobs, his fingers stiff and just, like, holding them. Not playing with her nipples through her shirt, or anything, but the way he occasionally squeezed them must have felt good, since Mina moaned more loudly when he did so. He’d moan the loudest when she pulled at his hair, knocking the back of his head against the refrigerator door.

You ducked back around the kitchen corner, grimacing as you sank to the floor to clutch your knees to your chest. This wasn’t the first time they were blocking the fridge, but you’d learnt there was nothing to do but kill time until they finished. Stealing some of Aoyama’s posh bubble-pop ice cream would have to wait.

***

“No, thank you,” you said to Monoma over your shoulder, pushing open the main door to Class A’s dorm, “You taught me stuff about my quirk today. I really value your fresh eyes on my old shit. Next time we train together, I’d like—Jesus fucking Christ.”

Yaoyorozu and Jirou were dry humping on the commons couch, with Yaoyorozu in Jirou’s lap with her hands in Jirou’s hair, tilting her head back enough to lick up her neck, right over the spot where her half of the soulmate tattoo lay.

Grimacing (you heard it in his voice and by his sucking in through his teeth; you’d covered your eyes and shied away), Monoma stooped to pick up Yaoyorozu’s shirt to slingshot it back towards them. “Get a room.”

***

All you’d wanted was to find the closet where they keep the lightbulbs.

Instead, you opened the door on Midoriya kneeling, Uraraka’s leg over his shoulder, audibly slurping, while she, skirt hiked up around her waist, ground against his face.

You shut the door again. Your dorm could stand being dark for a few more hours.

***

“I’m going to kill myself. I’m going to peel off my skin. No, actually, I’m going to eject my skellington from my body so that I can just be a lump of organs and skin. And then I can rest on the carpet in a pile,” you said, frowning into your ice cream, cheek propped on your fist, “Why can’t they all, like, give some sort of warning?”

“Not everyone carries a sock to put over every doorknob,” said a grinning Shinsou from across the table, licking around the side of his mint chocolate chip cone, “And c’mon, the U.A. dorm rooms are not sexy, and the walls are thin.”

Some sprinkles fell off of your ice cream when you gestured loosely. “Don’t I know it. I share a wall with Hagakure, and she and Ojiro are fucking constantly. He makes her get off on his tail a lot—I guess kind of like thigh riding?”

“You can’t do anything about it when they’re fucking in the privacy of their own dorms.” Shinsou bit directly into his ice cream and chewed, like a maniac.

“And apparently, she really like when he tickles her clit with the tip of his tail? I am burdened with knowledge,” you said, sighing, and you ate a mournful spoonful.

Shinsou swallowed thickly. “Does it lessen your opinion of them?”

“No. I’m glad they’re happy,” you said, “I’ve listened to their yearning over the years, so I know it’s such a relief for them for this quirk intervention to get feelings out, along with the assurance of permanent romance and stability. Hashtag get some, I guess. I’m just—the influx of soulmates and their PDA is highly inconvenient for navigating my everyday life.”

“You sound like you’ve put thought into it.” Shinsou smirked, tongue flattening as he licked over the top of his scoop (and turning slightly green). “Just inconvenient?”

You shot him a look and fished around in your paper cup for more sprinkles. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are you sure you’re not jealous?” asked Shinsou, the shop’s A/C kicking in and blowing through his hair—he pursed his lips and scooted his metal chair out of the way of the vent. “Since, y’know, you don’t appear to have a soulmate. You ready to tell me yet? Why’re you so nervous?”

Yikes. You’d been avoiding that.

“Are you not marked physically? Or do you have one on your boobs—”

You sighed overdramatically and sank down in your chair until your ass practically hung off of it. “I have a soulmark, and it’s not in an embarrassing place. Relatively normal, actually. It’s on my back, so it took me a while to notice it.”

Shinsou bit into the cone and crunched loudly. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“You’re not seeing it. No one’s ever gonna see it.”

“No one? You’re confident. You think your soulmate won’t ever want to take you from behind?” His tongue flicked out to swipe at a melted drop on his lips.

“Oh, my God.” You buried your face in your hands. “God, the thought of someone I don’t even know having sex with me—I don’t wanna think about it. But that’s not what I meant. I was being facetious; I meant that my words are pretty embarrassing.”

Shinsou slumped down in his seat at that, but nowhere near as far as you. “Oh? First words?”

“I assume. It’s a sentence, anyway.” You sat up, stabbing your spoon into your ice cream. “I—I’ll tell you, since I don’t want anyone—seeing me, and I know you’ll bug me about it, but it’s—”

“Just spit it out. Rip off the bandage.”

Cringing, you held up your hands in defence. “Don’t kill me, but I also don’t remember who said them to me?”

“Oh, you’re joking,” said Shinsou, his face lighting the fuck up, “That’s fucking hilarious, if it’s true. And how do you know they’ve already been said to you? How do you know they aren’t still to come?”

“I don’t know. I just…feel it in my heart of hearts that I have already heard these words, but I can’t for the life of me remember who said them,” you said, and you bent to riffle through your bag for your phone, “I keep a list of everyone who’s not paired off in my notes app, and I’m trying to remember the situations in which I first met them—”

“You’re stalling,” said Shinsou, grinning as he popped the last of the cone into his mouth, “Tell me what it says.”

Wincing, you set your bag aside. “Don’t make fun of me,” you said, biting your lip and scrunching your eyes shut, “but, uh. It reads, Looks like the ice princess finally decided to grace us with her presence.” At his silence, you cracked an eye open.

Shinsou’s eyes had glazed over, but he shook himself and spoke. “Don’t know why you’re embarrassed. That’s fucking hot.” He grabbed your used napkins to toss them in the garbage. “Think it’s an enemies-to-lovers type relationship? Just kidding,” he said at your pained expression, “But I see what you mean about those already being said to you. Weren’t you seen as sort of a cold, uptight bitch when we first started attending U.A.?”

“An easy misinterpretation,” you said, scraping at the bottom of your cup, “People thought my being shy and not talking to people was being a bitch, but I was just nervous that I was around so many people my age who seemed so much more in tune with their quirks that I was.”

“So, that gives you a time frame for when you met your soulmate. And,” he said, holding up a finger, “that lets you know that you met your soulmate in a group with other people, unless they speak in the royal we for some reason. It also sounds like you were late to a scheduled event. You remember doing anything like that freshman year?”

“Look, all I remember about the first three months of freshman year is being overwhelmed by how cool everyone was. That time is a blur to me, and before now, I’ve been grateful for that. Aizawa-sensei really put us through the wringer. I was meeting literally everyone I currently hang out with during that time, though, so that’s not helpful.” You gave your empty container to Shinsou when he held out his hand, and he threw it away for you. “How’s your search going? You gonna share your details?”

“I’ve got a name,” he said, cool as you please, chair clanking as he sat back down, “but I’m not sharing. It’s not yours, if you’re concerned.” His nose scrunched as he grinned, poking your arm. “It’s someone out of reach, and I’ve come to terms with that. I’m doing pretty well on my own. You ready to leave?”

Nodding, you slung your bag over your arm. “I envy you. You’re brave. Me—I’m dreading the thought of the pain we’ll feel if we don’t find our soulmates. Shouldn’t we be feeling it already?”

Shinsou held the shop door open for you. “It hasn’t been that long, and when it happens, I’ll manage. I’ll be more worried about you, you crybaby.”

“If it gets too excruciating, I’ll just have you brainwash me to not feel it, right?” you stuck out your tongue, walking backwards as he caught up to you.

His countenance darkened. “Stop that. You know I’m never gonna use my quirk on you. I don’t wanna do that to you.”

“But Hitoshi,” you said, dragging out the last syllable, “Imagine how productive I could be if you made me study, or how fucking relaxed I could be for once, if you told me to; my brain could be fucking calm for once—”

“Never. And that’s final,” said Shinsou, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets as he jogged to your side, “You keep trying to convince me, and y’know, the definition of insanity is—”

“Fudge off, you fuck,” you said, smiling, “I guess I can keep trying to empty my brain on my own. Gosh, it must be nice to be able to not freak out and overanalyse things constantly, and you’d think you’d want someone willing to train your quirk on. I mean, I’m here, and I want it.”

“Keep dreaming,” said Shinsou, gently shoulder-checking you, “So, got any ideas about how to get Hagakure and Ojiro to shut up?”

***

Since Midnight was working with Tainted Love at a women’s rehabilitation centre, she was able to confiscate some of Tainted Love’s team’s notes on her quirk. It had a lot to do with math and probability, but the nub and gist of what interested you was that while soulmates typically breathed in the same pink cloud, they didn’t have to.

Which brought a new factor to your soulmate search: maybe it was someone outside of U.A., someone who breathed in her quirk before she was captured.

But while you were at first reassured by more information, you were also now perpetually on edge. Though all of her victims had reported, what if someone didn’t even know they breathed it in? Plus, your request for the list of victims was still being processed and supposed to have around four thousand people on it, and you might not even get it due to privacy laws.

At least someone was finding all this funny: Shinsou laughed but listened to your frazzled thoughts, and he opened his dorm room to you whenever Hagakure’s moans became too pornographic.

***

Everybody’s fucking. Everybody.

Everywhere you went, you walked in on someone sucking face. You couldn’t drop a pen in class without noticing that someone’s getting fingered.

You bounced a tennis ball against Shinsou’s dorm room ceiling. “Why is everyone focused on the physical? Why isn’t anyone into the goddamn romance and intimacy of it all? If you’ve been fated to know and love someone for the rest of your life, living out the mundanities and revelling in the unfolding of a relationship, then why the hell is everyone focused on physical pleasure?”

Shinsou didn’t even look up from his phone. “Spoken like the world’s biggest virgin.”

“Hey!” The ball fell onto the floor. “So what. Just because I haven’t experienced that sort of thing doesn’t mean I can’t understand its value but still want something more.” You slinked your top half off his bed to grasp for the tennis ball, fingertips grazing it, not wanting to get up. “I get the appeal of sex. I get it. But I would be more interested in the intimacy of knowing someone and being known.”

Shinsou waved a dismissive hand. “I know. Zoom in on our friendship.” He locked his phone and set it on his bedside table. “But for someone who says she doesn’t want sex, you’re one touch-starved little bitch. You’re doing it to yourself, not letting anyone touch you casually. I hazard to guess you’re putting too much value on the physicality of a future relationship that might not even exist.”

Only your feet were still on the bed as you strained to catch the rolling ball. “I touch you.”

“You put your head on my shoulder. Sometimes,” he said, getting off the bed, “and you occasionally let me touch your arms for comedic effect and emphasis.” He picked up the tennis ball and took it back to the bed, and you scrambled back to get all the way on it.

“Listen, I don’t know where everyone’s been,” you said, taking the ball back after he tossed it against the ceiling himself once, “Especially now that everyone might have bodily fluids on their hands. You, I know you wash your hands. I know where you’ve been. You train with Aizawa-sensei and come back to this room. You should get a plant, or something, to keep you company. It might encourage you to raise the blinds for once.”

“Excuse you. I also spend time with a cat Kouda’s hooked up for me,” he said pointedly, “Her name’s Dango, and she loves me. You could say I’m drowning in pussy.”

“I could not say,” you said, rubbing the ball’s highlighter-yellow fuzz as you lay back in his bed, legs dangling off the edge, “Big sigh. I guess you’re right about my putting too much stock in being physical with my soulmate, instead of with someone now. I think—I don’t wanna be vulnerable in that way in front of someone who might leave? If someone saw me naked and then ghosted me, I think I’d strangle myself. Or him. There’d be someone walking around with that information on me, and he could tell anyone. I can’t have that. He’d have to die.”

“Well, you’ve already seen a bunch of our friends naked on accident—”

“Not up close. Besides, it wasn’t my goal to see them like that, and I wasn’t absorbing details. I can’t tell you who’s got moles in weird places.”

Shinsou hunched over, grinning toothily in your face. “You’re waiting to lose your virginity to your soulmate, aren’t you?”

Pouting, you flipped over to face away from him. “Shut uuuuup. I know I’m embarrassing, but I can’t talk myself out of it.”

“Wait, hey.” The bedding rustled as he got adjusted himself, getting closer to you. “If I’ve gone too far, I’m sorry. There is no fucking shame in waiting. It’s in character for you, how you’re scared about vulnerability and how you value being intimate and romantic. I can’t make fun of you for that, genuinely.” He sat next to you, back against the wall, and he nudged your shoulder. “I’m a bit lost, though. I get the part where you’re a virgin overwhelmed by the sudden sexual atmosphere at U.A., but I fail to see the problem when you’re planning to lose your virginity to your soulmate, and odds are, you’ll meet him soon.” He paused. “Or you’ve already met him.”

Glancing over your shoulder with a sour expression, you grabbed the blue-pineappled throw blanket folded at the end of his bed and hid under it.

Instead of yanking it off, Shinsou lifted the blanket’s edge to join you underneath it, his pale skin tinged with blue in the dampened light. “C’mon,” he said, leaning over you to get a look at your face (and you tugged at the blanket to cover you more), “I’ve heard you say worse. If you don’t wanna share, that’s cool, but I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s going through your head.”

Shinsou tilted his head to the side and grinned his stupid crooked grin that you were not immune to: it’s one of his expressions that made you feel at ease, like you could trust this idiot man with anything. (Which you could, but you didn’t like being reminded.)

Forcing yourself, you spoke in a small voice. “What if my soulmate wants sex immediately? I’m—I’m not ready for that. I’d have to work up to it, and what if he doesn’t have the patience?”

Shinsou laughed and brought his hand up to cover his mouth when he let out a snort. “Sounds like a shitty soulmate to me, then, if he doesn’t respect your boundaries. Any man can wait it out. We’ve don’t have two hands for nothing,” he said, wiggling his fingers.

“Thanks, I guess.” You pulled the blanket off of your heads and sat up slowly. “But I worry. What if I’m too much of a sick, touch-starved weirdo who freaks out over every single touch for my soulmate to like me?”

“Your soulmate will love you.”

“But what if he gets irritated at how much I freak out or flinch at everything?”

“You’re overthinking it. He’ll adjust, and you’ll learn, if that’s what you want.” Shinsou picked up the tennis ball and threw it against the ceiling again. “If he doesn’t, then he doesn’t deserve you, and I’ll destroy him.”

“Okay,” you said, deflating. You moved to rest your head on his shoulder, but the instant your temple grazed his sweater, you shot back up, eyes bulging. “What if he wants me to give him the most egregious head when I’m not—”

“All right. Fine,” he said, brow furrowed, and he shifted on the bed to kneel in front of you, staring right into your eyes. “Let’s entertain your fucking insane thoughts. Let’s say your soulmate does want to fuck you immediately. What do you want to do now about it? Can you do anything besides worry?”

You shrank back, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know. I don’t know! I guess…somehow get…used to casual touching, but once again, 1) what if my tester person leaves, and 1a) it would be mean to ask someone to not feel things for me and touch me, and 2) I don’t want to burden anyone with—”

“Fuck.” The way he said it was crisp and full of reluctance, punctuated by the tennis ball hitting the ceiling. “Okay. I’ve kept something from you. Something pretty big. I can use it to help you.”

You blinked. “Are you saying you have a dildo to lend me? I think I have to refuse.”

“I haven’t been going on dates.” Shinsou shuffled about to lean back on his pillow, crossing his arms behind his head (huh, that Sailor Mercury t-shirt was really tight around his bicep. Has it always been?). “You’ve seen me go out to teach people how to dom.”

“What?” You caught the tennis ball when he threw it at an odd angle. “You’ve been—who’s asked you to—”

“A fair amount of people, actually.” He sucked in through his teeth. “Won’t tell you details, of course, because part of the payment and contract includes a non-disclosure agreement. But people you know have wanted to learn how to dom or just experience being dommed, and I happen to be the perfect person to ask.” He shrugged and gestured loosely. “All I’ll say is that some people—people you know and don’t—have come to me for help with stuff like shibari and dirty talk. Or how to do anything, really, because of, quotation from client, ‘being a useless lesbian,’ unquote.”

So that’s how he can afford all those video games and imported books. Sneak. “You’re telling me—”

“That I can help you get used to physical intimacy, professionally,” said Shinsou, propping one leg over the other, twirling his socked foot in the air, “However far you want to go. However you want.”

(So those jokes about perfect dom Shinsou during girls’ nights had an inkling of truth in them? You may have to throttle some of your friends.)

You hesitated. “Hitoshi, you are my best friend—”

“Therefore, we already have an established relationship based on trust and respect, and I’m not leaving you. Not ever. I value our friendship too much. I won’t screw you over. Tear out my fucking vocal cords if I ever do.” He ran his hand back through his hair, flattening it, but it fluffed back up anyway. “I’m already unbearably fond of you, so I’m not gonna be cruel about it. It just so happens that I have the resources and skills that you’re interested in, and we’re not gonna end our friendship anytime soon. I might be a good solution for your problem—though, I have to admit, I don’t really think you have one.”

“And,” you said quietly, tossing the ball back and forth between your hands, “you don’t think my soulmate would think less of me for being touched by someone else?”

Wincing, Shinsou said, “Purity culture has chewed you up and spat you out. I’m not telling you to compromise your morals and lose your virginity to someone who’s not your soulmate, but I am saying that even if you do, it’s okay, and—and I’m just not saying that because I wanna fuck you. I’m saying that it’s okay if you experiment for what you want later with other people now. It doesn’t devalue you.” He clicked his tongue. “And nobody’s dick is good enough to alter your worth fundamentally. Anyone who says otherwise can’t find the clitoris.”

You managed a laugh at that, and you crawled up to lie next to Shinsou. He flipped his onigiri-patterned pillow over so that the cool side would face up, and he scooted it over for you to rest on, too.

“Let me continue to entertain your overthinking: even in the slim chance that your soulmate is a fuckshit who thinks less of you because you’ve fooled around before,” said Shinsou, tilting his head on the pillow to face you, “that fact will hold less and less weight the more he gets to know you. You’d be so easy to fall in love with.”

Sighing, you bit your lip. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” said Shinsou, staring at the ceiling again and folding his hands on his chest, “Hell, I wish you were my soulmate. It’d make things easy, don’t you think?” He managed a quick glance towards you before returning upwards. “We already know each other so well, and you wouldn’t have to worry about being vulnerable around someone new. You’d just have me.”

“Please, Hitoshi, there’s nothing just about you. You’re so fucking lovely,” you said, imitating his position and laying your hands on your stomach, following his gaze to the lazy swing of the ceiling fan pull. “Would you—would you be grossed out by seeing me?”

“Never. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to do it.” Shinsou twiddled his thumbs and knocked his socked foot against yours. “If it makes you feel safer, I’ll do anything to help.”

“People pay you for sessions, right? How much would I pay you?”

“What?” Raising a brow, Shinsou flipped on his side to face you. “You wouldn’t. I’m offering. Other people came to me, but I’m the one approaching you. I’m not gonna make you give me money for this.”

“But,” you said, shaking your head, “what do you get out of this, besides endless dirt on me?”

“I get to see my best friend be comfortable in her own skin. I haven’t seen that much at all, in all the time we’ve known each other,” he said, and he reached for his phone on the bedside table. “Consider it, at least. I won’t mind in the slightest if you want to or not. It’s only a way I could help quell your anxiety.”

***

YOU

all right, you schmuck

YOU

i’ve slept on it

YOU

i think i want to do it. i can rescind that at any time though

HITOSHI 💜🍡

of course

HITOSHI 💜🍡

how much time do you need?

YOU

uh. guess i’m ready whenever you are.

YOU

my dorm or yours? or somewhere else????

HITOSHI 💜🍡

I bet you’ll feel the most comfortable in your own bed

HITOSHI 💜🍡

if you’ll allow me an hour to prepare, I’ll be over soon

***

What does one wear to get dommed?

Revealing clothing? Underwear? Anything at all?

A brisk knock on your door, way too quickly, but you braced yourself and opened the door on a serious Shinsou, clad in all black (jeans and a turtleneck), hair mussed up a bit more than usual, and carrying a duffel bag. He tilted his head as he looked up and down your body, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile at your loose, cat-patterned loungewear.

“May I come in?”

You stepped aside, and he strode inside, noting the lit candle (against dorm rules, but he’s no snitch) and cherry blossom lamp, and set his duffel on the desk. As you trudged in behind him, playing with your fingers idly, he pulled out your desk chair, spun it around, and straddled it, propping his folded arms across the back.

“Let’s talk,” he said, gesturing for you to sit on your bed, “I custom build my routine for each client. What I have in mind specifically for you is drastically different from anything I’ve ever done: it’s much gentler, slower—” He held your gaze, wide and serious, and wetted his lips. “—and intimate. I will walk you through every step, and you have the power to veto anything I propose. You have all the control here. I will never be disappointed in your decisions. You are not in danger.” He gripped his opposite elbow, knuckles whitening. “I want you to know that what we do does not have to be inherently sexual. Our goal is to increase your tolerance for physical contact, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said, your fists clenched in your lap, “To feel at ease when people I trust touch me…I’d like to have some shred of chill by the time my soulmate comes around.”

You hoped Shinsou wouldn’t start by making you suck his dick. Judging by the way he was sitting and the bulge in his jeans, he must have a huge fucking cock (weird to think about your best friend’s genitals). Opening your mouth that wide wouldn’t feel comfortable, and you’ve already been chewing gum today, soreness already imminent.

(What’s in his bag? Is it all condoms? [That’s a lot of condoms…])

“First off,” he said, raising a finger (but for some reason he’s raised his pinkie finger to indicate one instead of his index finger, and then you’re noticing the length of just his pinkie finger and imagining how far it could go down your throat), “I’m not gonna fuck you. That’s your soulmate’s job, as you’ve established. What else are you specifically saving for your soulmate?”

Shinsou’s mouth twitched into a smirk when he noticed your narrowed eyes followed the loose gesture of his pinkie finger, and with a roll of his eyes, he returned his pinkie to his fist and raised his index finger, which had your shoulders slackening as you slumped back onto your bed, leaning back against your hands with your neck tilted back, arched at the ceiling so that you didn’t have to look him in the face.

“I’ve got, uh, reservations about the…” You shifted your weight so that you could gesture vaguely with your hands. “Mouths and hands directly on my cunt sort of thing.”

Shinsou let out a low whistle, and at that you had to break from the ceiling to see his expression: he was fucking grinning and shaking his head, his eyes a bit glassy as he scanned your own expression. “Using some crude terms, aren’t we? For a virgin.”

“Oh, come on. I’m a virgin, not ignorant,” you said, crossing your arms over your stomach and hunching over a bit to hide, “Do you want me to be clinical? I can say vagina and vulva and stuff all the time if you want me to, but cunt, at least, blurs the specificity and makes it simpler—”

“No, no, you’re good. You can sit back up; no need to hide.” Shinsou flicked that index finger in a gesture that lifted from your knees to your head, and you unfurled, pissed that he’d picked up on your body language like that—but, you supposed, that’s what he’s here for. “I was simply surprised you didn’t go for pussy. Do you want me to avoid using that term?”

“Uh.” He’s being. Thorough. Thoughtful. Why didn’t anyone else ever treat you like this? Some of your friends have such an unholy combination of words in their vocabulary that barrage you with psychic damage, and no one’s ever asked or noticed if you’ve been uncomfortable. “I think—I think if you use it sporadically, it’ll be fine.”

“All right,” said Shinsou, nodding, “So, no direct contact of my mouth or hands on your cunt.”

God, he can’t turn off teasing you for one minute? “Yeah. Though I can rescind that. I’m hoping that I might be comfortable enough down the line, but right now, I’m not.”

“Of course. I’m proud of you for recognising a boundary, even if it’s temporary. We’ll only go there if you decide you’re ready.” He blinked slowly, like a cat in a sunbeam. “Anything else only for your soulmate?”

In a bunch of stories you’ve read about hook-ups or friends-with-benefits situations, the people don’t always allow kissing, because that implies romantic feelings. You didn’t know precisely due to your lack of experience, but maybe that holds a grain of truth?

“Okay. There’s another thing I’m not sure about at the moment but is subject to change,” you said, and there’s no fucking way you’re going to look at him while you said this, so you became very invested in pulling at a hangnail, “I don’t know about—how I feel about kissing. You. On the mouth. Because what if I’m the super susceptible kind of virgin who attaches herself to the first person who shows her affection, and I fall in fucking love with you?”

“Hm. That sounds less about kissing and more about this whole situation in general,” Shinsou said with a grunt, over the sounds of his pushing up from the chair and taking the two steps to stand in front of you. “Hey. Look at me?”

He’s got nice shoes. He didn’t take them off at the door, but considering they’re scuffed, black doc martens, they may be part of his getting into character as a dom. Huh, they made his feet look long and narrow; what kind of insane socks must he be wearing under—

“I’m gonna use one hand to touch your face. Is that okay? Nod, if—thank you,” said Shinsou, and his right palm cupped your cheek, his long fingers grazing wisps of your hair and thumb over your cheekbone, and he tilted your face up to look at him.

Wincing, you averted your eyes from his, but he tapped your cheek with his thumb. “Nuh-uh. Look at me, sweet—thank you,” he said, once you made yourself do it (and it was hard, harder than it had ever been whenever you’d shot him side-eye when he pulled a crap move in a co-op video game, harder than glancing towards him in class to see if he’d gotten your joke, and it left a stone sitting in your stomach, one whose full weight you didn’t care to discover). Part of not looking him in the eye was bracing yourself for his usual reprimand of you’re overthinking, but it never came. “Let’s entertain the thought of your falling in love with me,” said Shinsou with far too much ease, his lips remaining parted at the end of that heavy sentence, “Isn’t that good? Because it means that whatever part of me you fell for, you know that that’s something you want in your soulmate. It tells you more about yourself and what kind of love you want.”

Your jaw dropped on impulse, and his grin widened as he stroked your cheekbone.

“Think about your favourite characters in books and movies. Aren’t there patterns of traits in them that you’d want in your soulmate? Falling in love, in all of these frequent iterations, is just a way to learn about what you like in a partner. I know you like Prince Zuko—”

“Hitoshi,” you said, abruptly very aware of the warmth of his palm as you tried to move your face underneath it, “Are you telling me to treat you like that? Like someone disposable? Like someone who isn’t real?”

“The way you talk about Zuko does not indicate that you know he’s a goddamn cartoon,” said Shinsou, “Or, more specifically, his hands—”

“Hitoshi,” you said, screwing your face up in a pout while leaning into his hand (holy shit, leaning into his touch, a pseudo-depending on him to keep you upright—something about allowing the dependence mixed with the warmth of his scarred hands [very slight, calloused dents where he wound his capture weapon as default] had you feeling lightheaded—and then you felt stupid, because you were feeling lightheaded over a goddamn touch to your face that’s not even that delicate), “I’m not treating you like that. For you, that sounds—” You huffed, and you worked up the strength to look him in the eyes again. “—so lonely.”

Breaking the eye contact himself, Shinsou sighed, and he moved to slide his hand off of your face—but you clamped your own hand over it, first an actual clamping-type move, to get him to stay, and then lessening the pressure, to let him know he can take it off, if he really wants. “Sorry,” you said, tapping your finger on the back of his hand, “I like this. It’s easy. I can handle it, I think.”

Nodding, Shinsou kept his hand on your cheek as he grappled behind him for the chair again, and this time, he sat in it properly, with his knee grazing one of yours. “Listen. I’m used to people projecting feelings onto me. They get wrapped up in the heat of the moment, and once the scene is over, they know they don’t actually like me romantically. Post-nut clarity, y’know. So, if you want to,” said Shinsou, rubbing his thumb over your cheek and grasping one of your hands with his free one, “If you have any inclination to project feelings on me, if it does anything to make you feel more at ease, then please, do it. I want you to get to know you better.”

Project feelings. Not truly feeling them. And if you did happen to fall in love with him, then it’s only a passing thing to get to know what you want in your soulmate.

Shinsou seemed so certain that he was unlovable, and that stone in your gut burbled mournfully in stomach acid. You’d respect his decision to hide his soulmark’s name, but should he ever let it slip, you’re going to find his soulmate to prove him wrong as soon as possible.

“Okay,” you said, nodding firmly and looking him in the eyes.

“Okay? You sure? Right, then,” said Shinsou, and he sat back in his chair, relishing in how you visibly grieved at the loss of his touch, and crossed his arms loosely. “Any other boundaries, hard or otherwise?”

You took a moment. “The stomach-tummy area is personal.”

“You’re insecure about it?”

“Hey—”

He waved a dismissive hand at you. “I knew that already, but it’s good to have verbal confirmation. I’ve seen the rate at which you bare that part of you, even in the light of peer pressure. Just means I know an area to lavish affection upon, when or if we get there.”

Groaning, you fell back on your bed, the heels of your palms digging into your eyes. “You’re insane for noticing that. You’re insane for noticing that. How—”

“Being aware of my environment is part of what a stealth-route hero like me has to do, sweet—” Shinsou cut himself off and frowned. “How do you feel about terms of endearment?”

“Not Jack Nicholson’s best work.”

“You piece of shit,” said Shinsou with a laugh, yanking on your duvet to make your ass fall off the edge of the bed, “I meant. I meant if you were okay with pet names, like sweetheart or baby or anything.”

You scrambled to get your ass fully back on the bed, pulling the duvet with you. “I don’t know how I’d respond if you called me anything; it’s not really a sexy word—”

“You are in for a world of trouble one day,” Shinsou said, tossing the corner of the blanket over your head (you swatted at it), “Because now I can be honest about how you behave: you’re a goddamn brat, y’know?”

“Oh, come off of it, Hitoshi; with the way we tease each other, it’s like you’ve trained me to be this way,” you said, laughing a bit as you tucked your duvet in again, but when you caught Shinsou’s eye, for some reason, his expression had completely stiffened. It only lasted for a moment, though, and he recovered in a flash.

“Well,” he drawled out, “I figured that using terms of endearment would add another layer to teasing you, and judging by how hard you’re avoiding answering me seriously, you’d like that. Wouldn’t you, sweetness?”

“I’ll kill you,” you said, hating every fibre in your being as you’d, on reflex, tensed up, halting any movement, and flushed, heat flooding your face and neck, when he’d called you that. How old are you? Old enough not to get fucking flustered at being called—

“As if you could.” He clicked his tongue. “Are any terms off-limits?”

“You can probably think up something absurd or nasty that I wouldn’t consider,” you said, “Sticking to the classics would probably be the safest.”

“All right. Anything else you think of later, as a boundary, you let me know immediately. Now, listen: unless otherwise instructed, you’re free to touch me in any way you want. I may direct you away from something, should I think you’re not ready for it.” He raised his index finger again, and he made a big show of raising a second finger from his fist. “And finally, two. This is a hard, non-negotiable rule for you: I’m not going to use my quirk on you. Ever.”

You collapsed on your bed again with a disgruntled groan. “What else is new?”

Shinsou shook his head. “I don’t want you getting the impression that just because we’re in a session that I’m going to do that to you.”

You sat up and snapped your head towards him. “You said it’s a rule for me. Do you use your quirk on other people who get you to dom them? Because, if so, I call bitch.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Shinsou hunched over to rest his elbows on his knees. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. They ask me to, and! And,” he said, holding up his hand to stop you from protesting, “It’s nothing but a session. They’re paying me for a good time, and that’s it. But you—you’re doing this as—as something akin to therapy, I guess. I’m just a step on your journey to being intimate with your soulmate—someone you’ll be with for the rest of your life. That’s a long time to be without my quirk, if you get too used to it, in the context of being intimate. If you end up needing to be brainwashed to be vulnerable, then it’ll only stunt the physical part of your relationship with your soulmate.”

“Fuck you for making sense,” you said, mirroring his hunched-over position and nudging his knee with yours, “And as for real-life reasons for not using it? Because you’re an ass?”

Shinsou’s eyes narrowed and glinted in the cherry-blossom light. “Because imagine,” he said, reaching towards your face again (pausing a moment to ensure you were okay with it, and after you nodded, he continued) to lift your chin with nothing but his curved index finger underneath it, “if I could finally control the biggest brat in my life, and what’s more, she wants me to? Much too addicting. I wouldn’t get anything done. I’ve got to become a hero after all this; I can’t spend all my time taking care of my prettiest little girl.”

When he dropped your chin, you stayed tilted up, in the same position he left you in, throat exposed and blinking profusely as you tried to process what he’d said. Your mouth was very, very dry.

Uh.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” said Shinsou, and you jolted from your stance to see his hand clapped over his mouth, brow furrowed with the tips of his ears reddening, shoulders curved in as he slumped.

It’s about time he showed he could get flustered, too, because you’ve already embarrassed yourself just with conversation and a few touches to your face. But what the hell was he getting like that over?

Shinsou dragged his hand down his chin and formed it into a fist in his lap. “Do you know if you’re into proper Dom/Sub dynamics? Do you know if that’s something you’d like to explore? Because with the way you stayed there for me,” said Shinsou, inching towards you, his chest heaving at his steadying breath, “you could be someone’s perfect little sub someday.”

“I think so. I think I am,” you said in a small voice, “I think that’s something I might want to be—hold the fuck up. Did I manage to turn you on?”

After the tiniest moment of shrinking under your smug smile, Shinsou puffed out his chest as he sat up, rolling his shoulders back. “It’s to be expected in a session, since it’s a sexual context.”

“Oh, my God, I did it. I turned someone on. Holy shit,” you said, running your fingers back through your hair, “I think I have to call Mina. I finally did it.”

Shinsou scoffed. “Please, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve—”

“Oh?” You froze, your hand almost to your phone on your bedside table. “Say more right now? Who do you know who’s been—”

“We’ve discussed boundaries enough for this first session, since it’s not that invasive. Let’s get to the heart of the session,” said Shinsou, standing to reach around for his duffel bag, and, after unzipping it, he handed his laptop to you. “Pick out a movie.”

You tilted your head as Shinsou trudged back to your door to untie his doc martens. “Excuse me?”

“I should already be logged in. Check my bookmarks bar for streaming sites,” he called from your door.

Shrugging to yourself, you slipped his laptop from his Put Your Hands Up Radio sleeve (leftover merch that wouldn’t sell; you had one as well) and opened it to search for a movie, automatically shifting over on your bed to the spot where you sat when the two of you watched something and blindly reaching for your throw blanket.

“Now, did I tell you to do that?” asked Shinsou as he rounded the corner again to see you settling into the usual routine, and after retrieving some water bottles from his duffel, he stood by your bedside table, where he put the water while bouncing on the balls of his feet (plain black socks. He is taking this seriously). “I’m not your friend right now, sweetheart; I’m your dom.” The same hand cupped your same cheek as earlier, and he briefly ran his thumb over your cheekbone before returning his hand to behind his back. “All I did was tell you to pick out a movie, and while I’m pleased you can extrapolate from incomplete information, it’s not what I want you doing right now. Sit back where you were.”

Holding your breath, you scooted back to the middle of the bed, where you’d been sitting on the edge, computer in your lap. What have you gotten yourself into? Was this what your best friend was really like? Has he had some sort of issue with your movie nights up until now?

Shinsou sat at the head of the bed, but he took up the whole space instead of sitting in his normal spot. He held out his hand for the laptop, and he placed it, cracked open, on your bedside table, moving your phone out of the way.

And then he fucking spread his legs.

“C’mon, sweet girl, sit back against me,” he said, patting a thigh with one hand and extending the other towards you, “I know you can do it. Come here.”

I know you can do it felt condescending here. Of course you can do it. It’s nothing but sitting between his legs instead of next to him. Very simple. Mind-bogglingly simple. So, it felt patronising and unnecessary that he would pull out that line for something so easy, this early in the game.

That didn’t mean you didn’t like it.

This was his idea of a first session? You were so pathetic that he felt the need for you to practise sitting between a man’s legs? Shut the fuck up.

Penis. You might touch a rascally ol’ penis, even if it’s through layers and layers of fabric. Inch resting.

You’ve never been fucking held. What if you cry, or something?

Which, oh, yikes, oof, makes your second point make a bit of sense.

Steeling yourself, you crawled the two feet towards him, but you hesitated before turning around: he’d parted his legs ever wider while you’d crawled back, so none of him was touching you at the moment, giving you still a chance to back out before it began.

“If it helps,” he said, tired eyes half-lidded, “think of me as your soulmate.”

Swallowing, you managed to nod just barely, and you turned.

At first, you’d tried to have some space between you and Shinsou, but he’d helped position you, guiding you with his large hands on your hips to have your ass snug against his pelvis (and yeah, the penis was there), hips framed by his inner thighs (since when have his thighs been bigger than yours? And his were all muscle), and he slid his hands up to your waist and ribcage to keep your back pressed against his chest. Once he had you all pressed against him the way he liked, Shinsou set his chin on your shoulder, startling you, but he petted away your alarm at your waist, a gruntled huff of hot air at your ear while he grounded you.

“You can tell me at any time if you get too stiff or want to change to a different position, but you’re staying in my arms tonight,” said Shinsou, untangling one arm from around your waist to reach for the laptop, “I thought cuddling would be a good start for you—full-bodied vulnerability, but you don’t necessarily have to look me in the eyes for it, and you can feel safe knowing I’ve got you. You’re held; you’re not in any danger.”

He placed the laptop on your knees. “Now, knowing your sense of humour, you’ve picked out Terms of Endearment.” Instead, he opened it to the title screen for a Zuko-centric episode of The Last Airbender. “All right, that’s fair.” You heard him laughing through his nose behind you before returning his chin to your shoulder.

Initially, you couldn’t concentrate on Zuko’s rippling pectorals for once in your life, because there was a man holding you and his dick was right there. Not, like, hard or anything, but it was present, just something extra to press against your ass. Eventually, it became less about the cock and more about being held, which was fucking intoxicating and warm and made you feel so small and safe, and that was out of the ordinary for you. The small huffs of Shinsou’s laughter in your ear through his occasional commentary (really kind of him to talk through a movie, like he normally did, instead of staying in dom mode, you thought. Helped you relax).

But even the movie night had to be cut short. Five minutes into the third episode, you’d finally cosied into his arms—dare you say, feeling like you could handle this thing called cuddling—when Ojiro and Hagakure started going at it next door. Hardly a full minute had elapsed between their clamouring down the hallway, the slamming shut of her door, and what sounded like a kabedon and something immediately plunging into Hagakure, based on her moans. Probably fingers.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I hope they were fooling around in public beforehand, so she’s at least gotten some prep,” you said, as Shinsou shut the laptop.

“We’ll continue this another time,” said Shinsou, setting it aside, and he, moving to kneel, guided your hips forward to turn you around to face him. “Was this okay?”

You shot him a double thumbs-up. “Excellent first step. New but safe, facilitated by a variation of something we’re already used to.”

“Something we’re already used to,” he repeated under his breath, for some reason, barely audible over Ojiro’s tail thwacking the shared wall. He reached for both his laptop sleeve and a water bottle for you, and he started packing his stuff away.

You twisted off the cap to break the seal. “Are we gonna do something different next time?”

“I think we’re going to do this a couple more times so that being held is no longer a sort of event in your mind, adding some minor variety so that you don’t get overwhelmed, before we move onto something completely different.”

Wiping water off of your mouth with the back of your hand, you bit your lip. “You’re being so kind to me. So patient. Considerate.”

He shot you a look from where he was zipping up his duffel. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well,” you said, holding the bottle in both hands, “Don’t most of your clients, like, choke on your cock within fifteen minutes of starting?”

His back was to you as he fiddled with a side pocket, and it took him a beat to reply. “Believe it when I tell you that I am delighted you’re letting me walk at your own pace.”

***

You were completing the world’s most pathetic checklist.

Holding hands? Check.

Cuddling? Check.

Spooning cuddling? Check.

Being able to look a man in the eyes while he tenderly cupped your face with both hands and told you nice things about you? Check—though that one took a lot out of you.

Were you embarrassing? Maybe a bit, but you couldn’t talk yourself out of being who you were, and Shinsou didn’t seem to want to, either.

You allowed yourself to curl up into yourself in the café booth, hiding yourself in the back while you propped your forehead against the exposed brick of the back wall. Lately, Shinsou had been directing you away from hiding your body and making yourself smaller when you felt ashamed, and damn it, you understood how he was trying to be helpful, but sometimes you just didn’t want to be perceived.

This session was the first public outing—a practise date, he’d called it. Practise for showing small, safe gestures of affection out in public. He’d dressed up in another all-black outfit again, as usual, because he’d emphasised that he had to get in character, to get out of “Best Friend Shinsou” mode. He’d even made a hype playlist, but he refused to show it to you yet.

He’d picked a café that you’d never been to so that you wouldn’t have to worry about the staff at your regular places judging you, and once again, you’re struck by how kind Shinsou was. If he were this level of considerate with all of his clients, no wonder they kept coming back to him. To be able to stop worrying, to leave it all to someone who took such pains to ensure your comfort and safety, who made your decisions for you—it’s goddamn inebriating.

Huh, it’s taking him a while to get menus. You tapped your fingernails in a ripple on the table where he’d parked you. Where was he? Twisting around, you scanned the open café area but recognised no one. How do you lose someone with purple troll hair?

Oh, he was rounding the corner of the dessert case, coming out of the hallway with the bathrooms, and he…he was talking to someone you’d never seen before, way shorter than he was with pastel pink hair and enormously puffy, white earrings. Even from the back corner booth, the way her face lit up as she spoke to him charmed you.

Shinsou was smiling, too, a pensive sort of wryness crossing his face as he snatched two menus from the basket up front, his brow furrowing when he had to shake a sticky third one off. Her elegant face pinched up when Shinsou unstuck the remaining two, and he gestured towards the booth where you were sitting. Oh, the fabric on this chair was absolutely fascinating, all of a sudden, and you kept plucking at it until Shinsou’s doc martens appeared in your view.

“I apologise for taking so long,” said Shinsou, sliding in next to you instead of across from you like a normal person, and he offered a menu.

You took it, rubbing the tacky plastic film. “It’s fine. Why sit next to me? It’s a booth, not the Last Supper.”

“It’s so we can hold hands, you muppet,” said Shinsou, and he promptly laced his fingers between yours and rested your hands on the table between you. As he laid the menu flat on the table, he returned the pink-haired woman’s wave as she exited the café, squeezing your hand as he did so.

“Care to enlighten me?” You scanned the drinks section, honing in on the coffee.

He flipped over the menu. “I can tell you she went by Mawata, with me. Not giving you the family name, mind. Signed the contract.”

Who would pay that much for a café au lait? Bougie. Perhaps even pretentious. “I see.”

“She recognised the getup and assumed I was in a session. I didn’t want to betray your trust, so I told her I was on a date. Which isn’t far from the truth.”

“I see,” you said, this time more strangled.

“Do you know what you want to order yet?”

“Almost.”

“Good,” he said, releasing your hand and scooting closer to you, “because we’re going to try doing something a step further. I—”

“Fucking go for it,” you said, peeking at the other side of the menu.

Shinsou faltered. “Are you sure?”

“You’ve kept me safe so far,” you said, shooting him a smile, “I trust—”

Mawata was bursting back into the café, the bell on the door ringing rather violently, and rushing back to your booth, her puffy earrings swaying erratically. Shinsou turned himself towards you, taking up space and shielding you the best he could by the time she skidded to a stop at your table, her kitten heels leaving a scuff on the tile.

“When can I hire you again?” she asked, breathless, “I’m assuming she knows.” She didn’t even spare a glance towards you.

Bracing himself, Shinsou turned his head in her direction, still hovering over you. “Now’s not exactly the best time.”

Mawata fidgeted with her purse strap. “I know I’m being rude, but holy shit. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ll be rude if it means I get to see you again. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t let you go now that there’s a chance again. Even if I have to pay you, I have to have you in my life. There’s no consistent way to contact you, so it feels like fate that I met you today.”

While Mawata rambled, Shinsou turned towards you, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, and, wincing, he shot you an apologetic look, eyebrows raised. You didn’t know what was coming, but you nodded. Running his tongue over his lower lip, he mouthed thank you, and for a brief moment, as he turned back to her, you caught a hardened expression you’ve never seen on your best friend.

“Mawata,” he said, stone cold and callous and chilling, “It sounds like you’ve broken one of my rules.”

She flinched, the movement shuddering through her whole body and bobbling her earrings, and she dropped her gaze to the floor, her head bowed and fists tight on her purse strap. A choked whimper escaped her as she took a shaky, shallow breath.

The distressing, empty space in which Shinsou waited for her to answer caused you to tense up behind him, and without looking back, he fucking skimmed his fingers over your thigh, cool as you please, until he could place his spread palm across it. Lightly, at first, a barely-there touch, but—you had to give him some sort of signal, so you grazed your thumb over the back of his hand—after he had your approval, he let the full weight of his hand rest on your thigh, gently tapping his fingers on the fabric of your jeans.

Good. Considerate, attentive Shinsou was still there, underneath whoever the fuck he was being now.

Her choppy, straight bangs shielded her eyes as she kept her head down. “I—I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

Sir?! Sir?!

That’s fucking Hitoshi. Hitoshi, who talks in a high-pitched voice to cats and encourages Eri to decorate his face with stickers. Hitoshi, who can’t always remember to take the tin foil off of his leftovers before putting them in the microwave. Hitoshi, your best friend, who’s got his goddamn hand on your thigh.

(Hand cover…so much…of thigh. Big hand. Big hand good. Big hand safe. Big hand hold you.)

([Good God, woman, pull yourself together. It’s just a hand on your thigh.])

(But there is nothing just about Shinsou, is there?)

Shaking his head, Shinsou clicked his tongue. “And I’m sure you do. I want you to say what rule you’ve broken—and I know which one you have; you can’t hide from me. I’ve been in your brain; I know how you think. I want you to admit it. And I want you to tell me what you’re doing wrong now because of it. If you can’t even say it, I no longer know you.” He lifted his chin as he stared her down, and even from behind, you can tell that he’s giving her that cold glare that made anyone shatter—you’ve only seen it in training, and it’s never been used against you. “You know what you signed. Say it.”

“I—I’ve developed feelings for you,” she managed to say.

“And?”

“And that means, by contract, I can’t see you again.”

“And?”

“And!” Mawata inhaled sharply, shifting her jaw as she raised her head to look him in the eye and chickened out, instead focusing on the table. “And by approaching you in public with another client, you’re gonna fucking blacklist me with the others across the fucking city. But sir, you said you were on a date, and I didn’t know you did that now, and I want that—”

“Not quite. I’m not out with a client,” Shinsou said evenly, squeezing your thigh under the table, “I’m out with my girlfriend. Which is a greater transgression on your part, wouldn’t you say? We’re done here.” Shinsou nodded once and gave a dismissive wave, and she bolted out of the shop.

Shinsou turned to you, expression soft, posture crumpling, and hands lifting to cup your face, and he babbled apologetically. “Baby, I’m so sorry you had to see that. Mawata’s violated contract before by badgering Kaminari for my personal number, but that doesn’t immediately blacklist her; it got her put on a probation list. I’m sorry. I tried to get rid of her the best I could at first, but it didn’t work, and I’m so fucking sorry you had to see me like that. I would never treat you like that, sweetheart; you mean too much to me. Please believe me when I say that what you saw was just a continuation of the dynamic established between Mawata and me and that I would never—” He cut himself off and rested his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this.”

Hello! I would like to address girlfriend. Are we going to do that?

(Well, you figured, in the moment in which you cracked your eyes open to watch Shinsou’s unfairly long eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, that using girlfriend was a firm way to establish that Mawata was not wanted there.

Plus, he had said earlier that he hadn’t revealed you were a pseudo-client, so it may have been a confidentiality thing. Even though you never signed anything. That’s Shinsou for you, being a step ahead in caring for you.)

“Hitoshi, it’s fine,” you said, placing your hands over his and bringing them down into your lap, “I get it. You did what you had to. Yes, you scared me a bit, but some part of it was also hot. You let me know you were still there.”

Shinsou pulled back to garner your expression, and, after seeing something that he evidently liked, he bent to put his forehead on your shoulder. “So, the hand on your thigh was good?”

“Very. I appreciate that you did it through clothes for this first try. Not as startling.” Since Shinsou has been so good to you, you bolstered enough courage to comfort him back: you tentatively raised a hand to run it through his hair, scratching at the base of his skull, and the man fucking groaned, snuggling down into your shoulder and getting as close as he could to your neck without going past your collar (you hadn’t gotten to neck stuff yet, which, as you noted it, may be the dumbest fucking thing about yourself). “She mentioned others? I’m assuming other hired doms?”

“More or less,” said Shinsou, his voice grumbling, “I don’t really see much of them. Mostly at the start, when I was learning how to do BDSM stuff myself. Making sure what I was doing was safe. Helped me with legal stuff. I don’t wanna be sued or arrested for any of this, y’know.”

“Don’t tell me Aizawa-sensei’s involved. You can just look at that fucker and tell he’s into tying people up and brat-taming.”

“All right,” said Shinsou with a muffled laugh, “I won’t tell you.”

“Holy shit. That’s our professor—”

“No, c’mon, keep scratching. Go on. Let’s see what I can tell you,” said Shinsou, “He’s never been one of the employees proper, but he has provided some educational materials—yes, on shibari. Thank God someone else is now burdened with this information.”

“Think he was affected from the soulmate quirk?”

“If he does, his soulmate’s in for it,” said Shinsou, whining a bit when you moved away from the base of his skull, and he plopped your hand back there to keep scratching. “He fucking needs someone to take care of. And to take care of him. Fuck, he’s a mess.” He sighed into your shirt. “Speaking of, I’ve got an escort mission with him and the rest of the stealth-focused group in about a week, so we won’t be able to have a proper session. Odds are, I’ll be prepping with the rest of the students, so we won’t see much of each other at all.”

“Remind me who’s studying stealth?”

“Bakugou and Aoyama. Oh, and Todoroki’s been shoved in our group, since he’s hopeless at PR, according to Kayama-sensei. Don’t know how that’ll affect our current group dynamic, but I look forward to working with him. Midoriya can’t say enough good things about him.” Shinsou dragged himself away from your shoulder. “So, I’m sorry we won’t be seeing each other as much. I’ll text you when I can.”

“I’ve got stuff with Present Mic to work on. It’s fine. That just means I get to hang out with Dango instead of you, right?”

“Stop bragging,” he said, and he pointed at the menu as he stood. “Time to tell me your first and second choices for your order. I’ll get the second one, so you can try some of it.”

“Wow, someone’s a slave to routine,” you said, indicating what you wanted, “If I hadn’t seen your performance just then, I’d say that your dom persona is the same as typical Hitoshi.”

His eyes glinted strangely as he smirked and gathered the menus to put them away. “Is it?”

***

HITOSHI 💜🍡

bakugou is bitching about the quality of aoyama’s trail mix

HITOSHI 💜🍡

says it’s shit

HITOSHI 💜🍡

he’s made us trail mix that he considers good. we have spent a considerable amount of this mission prep meeting debating what qualifies good trail mix.

HITOSHI 💜🍡

bakugou, I mean

YOU

idk man i thought aoyama’s trail mix was pretty fucken tasty

HITOSHI 💜🍡

why am I not surprised you’re the one who ate most of it last night

HITOSHI 💜🍡

if they ask where it went, I won’t tell

***

The day of Shinsou’s escort mission, you were out shopping for a plant for him. “I mean, you’re extremely attentive with people and cats,” you were saying, your phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as you checked the price on the bottom of a zinnia starter, “but something tells me you will forget a plant is real.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, jackass,” came Shinsou’s voice over the phone, “I could keep up with something like a succulent. Or bamboo. I bet bamboo would fucking thrive in my dorm.”

“Bamboo requires frequent watering and heavy sunlight, actually,” you said, moving on to non-flowering plants, “So that thing would fucking die the instant it crosses your threshold.”

“Distressing things to hear,” said Shinsou, and you heard Aizawa’s voice and Shinsou’s distant response. “Gotcha. Listen, I’ve got to go. The plane’s scheduled to land in five minutes, so I’ve got to focus. Talk to you later?”

“Of course. Good luck!”

“Thanks. You, too, with the plant. Bye,” he said, but he didn’t hang up. You figured he meant to and just didn’t. Your thumb hovered the end call button, but when you strained to hear Aizawa’s and Bakugou’s voices and Shinsou’s closer replies through the phone, you elected to stay on the call.

Putting it on speaker and into your front pocket, you wandered through the garden section moving into the sheltered area as thunder rumbled, fingering at the textures of leaves, and admiring colours. Having him on speaker like this, even if it were just mission talk, felt like he was here with you, and you haven’t hung out with him in over a week—and now with the frequency of both friend hangouts and soulmate-prep sessions, his absence left you with an emptiness, an ache curling into your gut that pinched at your insides. This morning, you’d awoken feeling like you’d been kicked in the chest, so that’s why you risked calling him, even though he was out on a mission, and when you heard his voice, the ache disappeared.

None of these succulents were bitchy enough.

You covered your mouth as you laughed: what if you got him a fake plant and never told him?

You meandered inside as the rain picked up. Talk about radio signals scrambling came through as you debated the merits of a fake blossom on a fake cactus, and you turned the volume down in case you gave away confidential information to the few other losers in a home improvement store this early in the day. It’s a good thing you did, because otherwise, the sound of the airport explosion would’ve scared someone other than you out of your skin.

You ran back outside where you could yell, even though you might not be heard over the pouring rain. “Hitoshi?! ’Toshi, are you there? Say anything! Please!” He never responded to you, but you could hear yelling—not from him, but from Aizawa, from Bakugou, from Aoyama—and heavy cracking and crumbling you couldn’t tell if it were from a building collapsing or thunder rolling.

God, he’s not going to respond, is he? He didn’t know he’s still on a call—but you can track his location, right? Oh, my—fucking.

Staying on the call on your way back to U.A., you sent Shinsou’s location to Present Mic as soon as you could, saying you were headed back. Mic shot back a thumbs-up, since he couldn’t interrupt your call, said you should go give keep tracking with campus security, and that the location has been the biggest help so far in finding the team. They’re buried underneath airport rubble, and your connection with Shinsou’s phone is the only clue they have. Even if his phone isn’t buried—and it probably isn’t, since it has signal—it’s their best chance so far of being found.

The ride back to U.A. had you jolting at any little outside stimulus (and you had to keep apologising to people on the train for not having headphones), but all you could do once you reached security was keep listening. Ages and ages and ages of faint sirens, pelting rain, and shifting wreckage, with you crying so much that one of the security workers felt bad enough for you that they bought you a drink from a vending machine.

And then—as you’re screwing the lid onto your empty bottle—the crunching of footsteps. A distant, “Oh, sweet,” and the grappling of his leather glove around his phone. But something in your gut told you to keep silent. To keep this to yourself. Glancing over your shoulder to the final, straggling security worker at the far computer, you borrowed a pair of earbuds and hid your phone.

Shinsou must have put his phone in his pocket (the one on the side of his chest, based on how close his voice sounded) without looking at the screen, because the call kept going.

“No, say that again,” came Shinsou’s voice, exasperation prevalent, “What happened while they were underground?”

“Bakugou, Aoyama, and Todoroki were all affected by Serendipity’s quirk, but they’ve worked their way out of it,” said Aizawa, more gruffly than usual, or perhaps that was just the thunderstorm interfering with the sound coming through. “Listen. Don’t ask them for details and just be glad you’d been confined elsewhere. But we’ve got to peel Bakugou off Serendipity’s back before he breaks it and get her to Sakura Grove now.”

The relief at their voices triggered exhaustion, and you slumped in your seat, head down on the desk. God, you’ll take all this bullshit about travelling and escorting to this sakura place or whatever. It’s good to hear him talk. You’d listen in forever, so long as he was there. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk. Something in your gut screamed for you not to.

Actual, informative dialogue picked up when they’d apparently arrived at this Sakura Grove place, rushing through security to find Midnight and the team prepared to control Serendipity. You managed to smile at the sound of all of their boots clacking against tile. Lots of running, it seemed, even before they split up.

Shinsou was the one to find Midnight and frantically updated her, all out of breath. “—and Aizawa-sensei’s got her contained in the main waiting room, but he can’t keep her for much longer—”

“Listen,” Midnight interrupted, “I can’t have Ito and Serendipity be in the same room. Watch her while I take care of this. She can’t do anything more to you, so—” Her voice grew faint.

And at last, silence again.

Eventually, a woman’s voice came over the speaker. “Nice tits.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t stare at my chest,” said Shinsou, and you fucking laughed under your breath, shoulders heaving. You folded your arm to use as a pillow on the desk and smiled loosely as you listened in.

“Who are you? She said Ito, but that doesn’t tell me anything.”

“Yet what she said told me so much.”

Shinsou paused. “What d’you mean?”

“That I can’t do anything more to you. Tells me you’ve met me before. Inhaled my quirk.”

Shinsou took a deep breath, as if to remember. “You broke into U.A.” Heavy exhale. “You ruined my goddamn life.”

“Want to sit down and talk? They’ve set up a lovely sitting room here, really. Seems a shame not to put that great ass to use.”

“Please stop objectifying me,” said Shinsou, sighing (and you could picture him running his hand back through his hair, with it bouncing back instantly), “Fine. Fine, I’ll talk. I know someone who likes having information. I’ve got to kill time, anyway.”

Shuffling. The creak of a chair.

“Why don’t you start with how I’ve ruined your life?”

“Take a fucking look at this.” The sounds of velcro and thick fabric being adjusted, and then silence.

“Okay,” said Ito slowly, “It’s a name.”

“It’s my fucking name, jerkass. Do you have any idea how much sleep I’ve lost over it? How am I supposed to deal with this? Am I doomed to be alone? Am I supposed to cry while jerking off for the rest of my life? Is that what the love I have amounts to? Because—and not that I would fucking want this, but even if there were another Shinsou Hitoshi, it probably wouldn’t be spelled with the same kanji, so fuck with that, if you will.”

More fabric shuffling, as Ito spoke. “I bet it would be difficult to find another Shinsou written as chastity and honest.”

“Yeah, my parents are insane. Bet they’d be disappointed in me, if they knew what I was doing concerning chastity and honesty. Has your quirk created something like this before? Is there a way to fix me?” Shinsou’s voice cracked.

“Well, let’s backtrack. There may not be anything to fix.”

“So, you have seen this before?”

“No, but I’d like to cover all my bases,” said Ito, “How bad is the pain? Are you at the level where you pass out yet?”

A beat. “What pain?” Another. “Stop staring at my tits. Pecs.”

“This is funny. You’re funny.” You could hear the smile in Ito’s voice. “Good thing I like funny. I crave funny. Did you know I have no contact with the outside world except through letters?”

“I don’t like where this is going.”

“They keep packets of cheese crackers somewhere in one of these drawers. Will you help me find some?”

Shuffling. Wooden drawers opening and shutting. Crinkling of plastic.

“You’re not feeling the pain because you’ve already met your soulmate,” said Ito through a mouthful of cheese cracker, “If you hadn’t met them, you’d be in fuckin’ agony. All achy, and shit.”

“I can hardly see how I could avoid meeting myself.”

“Okay, cut the bullshit, smartass. My quirk doesn’t work like that, unless you’re attracted to yourself.”

The sound of chewing, up close and personal. “God, no. I hate myself.”

“Then you have a soulmate, and you’ve met them. Easy as that.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” said Shinsou.

“Oh, get fucked. You’re a young hero affected by my quirk, who has associations with Midnight, and you haven’t read my team’s notes on my quirk? You’re not employing all your resources,” said Ito, crunching.

“Someone who read it told me pertinent details,” Shinsou protested.

“Not pertinent to you, it appears. Not that it matters how my quirk works, I suppose. Just be assured that you have a soulmate who’s not you, and you’ve met them. Since you’re not feeling any pain at all, it sounds like they’ve accepted you in some way. Acknowledged you with some sign of affection. Depending on how obvious they are, you may be an idiot.”

“Fuck,” came Shinsou’s whisper, “I’ve been in some…situations recently. There are a number of candidates.” Crinkling of plastic and chewing. “But I still don’t get how my own name as a soulmark works.”

“Bitch, you’re overthinking.”

And Shinsou laughed. Hard. Hearing it made up for all the distress you’ve been under today. His laugh always sounded a bit higher than his speaking voice, like it hasn’t been through as much or like it’s well-rested.

“Got a preference for who it is?” Ito asked.

 Shinsou swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”

“Perfect. Then we can start from there. I can help you find out who it is, by process of elimination.”

“Hey, give me your trash.” Footsteps, there and back again, and the sinking back into the cushy chair. “Why would you help me? You’re a villain, and I’m a trainee-hero you just met.”

“Whatever is going on with you is pathetic and hilarious, and like I said, I like funny. What’s more, I like conclusions to stories,” she said, “and yours, I feel, is going to be marvellously, gloriously stupid. I wanna hear it when it happens.”

Shifting in his seat. “You can get letters? All right.” More shifting. “But what if my soulmark is broken, and I don’t have an ending?”

“Okay, then I’ll take payment now.”

“I think I want to back out—”

“Relax, asshole. I’ll help you,” said Ito, “All you have to do is describe what body part on a woman you prefer.”

“That’s all?”

A beat. “You look like a feet guy.”

“I do fucking not.”

“You’ve got the mouth for it.”

It sounded like Shinsou pushed himself up out of his chair. “Y’know, I think I can live without your help.”

“My dude, I have already established that I am desperate for humour in my life, and even from our brief interaction, you have revealed yourself to be wonderful to tease. Sorry for accusing you of being a foot fetishist. Didn’t mean it. Sit back down?”

A pause. He must have sat and chosen his words carefully. “You usually shield your chest or genitals when someone’s threatening you when you’re physically vulnerable, yeah? What’s left unprotected, though…I like to take advantage of the vulnerability of an exposed neck. Sensual and intimate. Satisfying. I’m betting—kissing the back of it, even when she expects is, is going to make her jump out of her skin. I can’t fucking wait. Hey, don’t look at me like that.”

“Something’s wrong with you. Really.”

“I happen to be—normal. Normal and well-adjusted.”

“You’re into necks and not into choking?” Ito tutted. “Even with your BDSM hero costume?”

“Choking is when something’s caught inside your throat. Technically, what people have taken to doing in bed is a type of strangulation.”

“Way to bring the conversation down, fusspot.”

“I did what you asked and answered honestly,” said Shinsou, “I think we should skip the rest of the part in which you make fun of me and proceed to where you actually help.”

“Sure. First, we’ll need an airtight container.” Another pause.

Shinsou made a frustrated noise. “If you’re really that desperate to stare at men’s tits, my friend Bakugou is in the lobby, and his are way bigger than mine.”

“No, it’s—I get that you’re all posh, since you’re a U.A. student, but I’m assuming even a hero’s BDSM costume isn’t supposed to glow in the chest area. Or at least, only one side of it.”

“What are you—oh, shit, that’s my—”

The call ended.

***

What were you supposed to do? Pretend you weren’t on the phone, obviously, but moreover, how could you possibly help Shinsou find his soulmate when his soulmark was his own name?

Monoma was no help solving anything, but at least he was good company when everyone else was making out (you missed when people played video games in public instead of dry-humping). He and you were caring for Eri that afternoon, since Aizawa, Shinsou, and the rest had to go in for documentation.

Eri pressed a pawprint sticker (from that cat café Aizawa frequented) onto your cheek. “They’re in love,” she said.

“Who?” Monoma asked from his place on the floor, lying down with his legs straight up to rest against the couch.

“Konpeito and Dango,” she said, pointing to the two cats cuddling together on the middle couch cushion, “See how they’re yin and yang?” From above, she was right, ish. Konpeito and Dango certainly had the swish-shapes fitting together in a circle, if not the entirely correct colourings.

“I’m glad they finally went to sleep,” you said, choosing a coffee mug sticker for Eri to put on you next.

Eri nodded gravely. “If Dad-sensei finds the pottery pieces in the trash, I’ll tell him a shark did it. I don’t want him to make Konpeito move out.”

Monoma caught your eye and stifled a laugh, but you didn’t know if it were for Dad-sensei or the shark. “Eri,” he said, checking his phone for the time, “Do you know what’s going on with the room at the end of the hall?”

Frowning, Eri pursed her lips. “Dad-sensei lives there. Is something wrong with it?”

“I should’ve been more specific; I apologise. I meant the empty that been used for storage so far, on the other side where no one goes,” said Monoma, stowing his phone in his pocket, “Room 310, I think. It’s okay if you don’t know, Eri.”

“Oh,” said Eri, peeling off the coffee mug sticker, “I don’t know much. Dad-sensei and All Might-sensei have been talking about it sometimes.” She smoothed it out across the inside of your forearm. “I think someone like me is going to move into that room, but not for a long, long time from now. I hope they like cats. Can I see your words again?”

Monoma shared a sympathetic look with you and became busy with bothering the cats, allowing you the space to stretch the neck of your shirt down far enough to the middle of your left shoulder blade for Eri to read your soulmark.

“Ice princess,” she said, bafflement creeping in, “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I know, kiddo,” you said, “but I used to be a bit mean. It used to fit me.”

“When?”

“When I first started going to U.A.,” you said, “Before the first sports festival, especially. Even though I was shy, I remember being very protective of the few friends I’d made in 1-A at that point. Maybe I had a bad day and was mean about it. Mean about the way I was protecting my friends, or something. I don’t really know, Eri. I don’t know what my soulmark means.”

“Can I copy it? I want to practise writing ice princess.” At your consent, she told you to wait while she got some paper, and you waited more while she carefully copied down the kanji for that part of your soulmark. She presented the paper to you when she was done.

Cute. Adorable. Her basic penmanship made your confusing, harsh words into something endearing. Except. “Hey, Eri, I think you’ve written the kanji for forever here, instead of ice. See how you’ve put two little strokes at the top? Ice only has one.”

“Oh! Thank you very much. The handwriting on your back is all squished, so it’s hard to see all the strokes.” She corrected her kanji on the sheet at the same time that Monoma’s head snapped towards yours, both pairs of eyes bulging (clown to clown communication).

Handwriting.

Eri carefully copied the corrected kanji again and stopped to admire her writing. “Even if you don’t understand it, I still think it’s good.” She wrote her name at the bottom and turned the paper around to show the both of you. “Do I get a soulmate someday?”

You hid your sorrow, and Monoma answered for you. “I hope to God you don’t.”

***

Instead of breaking off towards Class B’s dormitory after dinner, like he normally did, Monoma followed you up the stairs of Class A’s dorm.

“Ah, ha, who are you going to see? Shinsou and I have a movie night,” you said, lying about the session you were going to his room for, “so you must have made a friend.”

“Hilarious. A lie and an attempt at a blow to my ego,” said Monoma, stuffing his hands in his pockets, as he trotted up the stairs behind you, “No, I’m attending Shinsou’s little session, the same as you are.”

“Fuck it all to hell,” you said, halting on the top step, “Did everyone know about that except for me?”

“Chill, I learnt about it two days ago when Shinsou asked for my help. Keep going; he’ll explain it when we get there,” said Monoma, passing you to hold the stairway door open.

Shinsou was waiting for the both of you. He opened his door before you could knock twice and ushered you in. You expected Monoma to make some comment about Shinsou’s clothes (you think he’s got outfits on rotation, but since a fair chunk of his wardrobe is black, anyway, it’s hard to tell) or his serious vibes, but Monoma didn’t say a word or make any condescending expressions. For once, it seemed, he was quiet and subdued, hands in his pockets and standing behind you, waiting.

“Monoma’s here to help,” said Shinsou, stepping forward to curl his long fingers into your hair, scratching gently at your scalp (your eyes fluttered shut, and you struggled to keep them from crossing and rolling back; you have definitely been denying yourself the simple pleasure of someone playing with your hair: safe but immensely satisfying), “If you don’t want him here, or if you don’t want him to see a thing you do, he’s out of here before anything can happen. Either way, he’s sworn to secrecy about this entire ordeal. He owes me, and I’m paying him. And I know you already feel fairly comfortable around him. He’s on his better-than-best behaviour.”

“I trust you,” you said, and Shinsou pulled this strange move where he lifted his hands just barely while he was still cupping your head to scratch it, and you rose to your tiptoes to follow him—the move, paired with his blunt nails on your scalp, had you feeling lightheaded, and you’ve only been here for about a minute (calm the fuck down, babe). “If you think Monoma will help me grow, then I’ll do it. Within reason.”

“All right. You can back out at any time, remember? Okay. Monoma, you first. On the bed.”

On the bed? Are you sure, Shinsou?

Monoma peeled off his TinTin socks and climbed onto Shinsou’s bed to sit at the head of it, and he contorted himself to pull his phone out of his back pocket to set it on the bedside table.

“Go on, then,” Shinsou said softly, prodding your lower back, “Sit between his legs. Just like you’ve done for me.”

Oof. Someone other than Shinsou? I mean. You guessed if it had to be someone other than Shinsou, you’d be the most comfortable around Monoma, but still. It’s as if there’s a heightened layer of friendship with you and Shinsou; it’s different than the relationship you have with Monoma and the relationships with other guys. Somehow, this felt weird.

“Okay, boss,” you said as a joke, and you watched Monoma for any of his many micro-expressions for a shred of disdain or judgment, as if he would tease you for calling Shinsou a title in a sensual/sexual context, even as a joke, but Monoma’s face was placid. No outward signs of malice. Instead, he made room for you between his legs, silent and languid all the way.

“Hee hoo ha,” you said instead of actually laughing, a knee on the mattress. “I suppose you’re aware that this is, like, second base for me. For the state I’m in. I’m fuckin’ calling you Neito from now on, now that you’re witnessing me being a slut.”

There’s no snide comment. Eyes-half lidded, Monoma calmly nodded, resting his hands on his thighs. “If that’s what you want.”

Oh, holy shit. Shinsou must have talked to him about how sensitive/delicate you were about this situation. Either that, or the pay is just that good.

Worried, you glanced back at Shinsou, but he just gestured with a loose flick of his fingers for you to keep going. So, you found yourself easing into a different man’s arms, and it’s instantly a list of comparisons: thighs still framing your pelvis but nowhere nearly as thick or long as Shinsou’s (and that tracked with what Monoma’s told you about how he wants a twink gymnast’s physique for his manoeuvrability in battle, along with Shinsou’s having seven centimetres on Monoma height-wise), somehow colder than Shinsou, not giving off as much body heat, his chin not fitting as well into the divot on your shoulder as Shinsou’s did—but his arms slid around your waist the same way Shinsou’s did, down to the positioning of what hand overlapped on top—Shinsou must have given specific instructions.

You figured that you don’t feel as safe as you feel when Shinsou’s holding you because Shinsou was bigger than you: bigger in presence, really, over physicality—though certain parts of him were objectively bigger, like how fucking long his fingers were and the overall size of his hands. Monoma, though, didn’t give as much of a large presence, but Monoma had said before that being unimposing and nimble worked better for him strategically. Either way.

Wow, yeah, Monoma really was holding you just like Shinsou did, without space between your legs and his, with his arms snugly around the upper curve of your waist, and his mouth pressed—but not puckered or kissing (a polite boy)—to your shoulder, on the shirt collar as close to the bare skin of your neck as possible without touching it.

“Fishy,” you said, glaring at Shinsou while tapping Monoma’s hand at your waist.

“I’m glad you noticed. Good detail work,” said Shinsou as he stowed away the Put Your Hands Up Radio laptop sleeve, and he crawled onto his bed.

As Shinsou pulled up a movie, you panicked and snapped your head back to look at Monoma. “Hey, are you okay with this? I don’t wanna impose on you if—”

“I’m fine,” said Monoma, blinking slowly, “I haven’t been told everything, because that’s your business, but I can garner that this is very important to you. And since you’re comfortable around me—though I don’t think anyone will ever lower your walls like Shinsou does—I knew I could do this for you. If it were anyone else besides me, you wouldn’t be as comfortable. Worry about me if you want, but it’ll be misplaced.”

You faced the front again and grimaced. “You two are acting fucking insane.”

Shinsou looked away from the screen for a moment. “No, baby,” he said, tapping the top of your foot, “We’re being careful. You deserve to be handled delicately.”

You didn’t know if it were his usage of baby or the skin-to-skin touch on your bare foot that made you jolt. Probably both.

(Because while you’ve been getting used to Shinsou touching you, it’s all been very face-waist-shoulders-arms. His hands haven’t gone below your stomach or to your boobs. So, yeah, while it was just your foot, he hasn’t been around that area yet. Startling.)

“If you say so,” you muttered, and you pressed back against Monoma, as if hiding from Shinsou’s comment—and, to be fair, the careful attention to you felt unusual, especially now that it was someone beyond Shinsou. “What are you going to do? Why have you got Monoma—”

You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale, chest tight and shoulders tense, when Shinsou placed his hands on your knees, and he said, “I want you to get used to a man between your legs.” Carefully watching your expression, Shinsou slowly parted your legs, keeping his hands near your knees and low on your thighs, and he crawled up to lie on his stomach between them, resting, for a moment, on his elbows, propping him upright on either side of your hips.

And you were fucking panicking. You’d steeled your expression the best you could, since Shinsou was watching, but you broke and couldn’t control it; your visible facial distress, you supposed, was hardly the giveaway when you were already stiff and tense, heart pounding, one hand gripping Monoma’s wrist so tightly his bones might grind together, pressing back into him while subtly backing away from Shinsou.

When Shinsou (pausing briefly but continuing, more cautiously, when you didn’t say anything) moved to wrap his arms around your hips and settled down against you to rest his head on your stomach, your breathing picked up, and your chest started heaving.

(C’mon, baby, it’s just a guy’s presence between your thighs. He’s not even touching you in a sexual way. He’s just there. You’ve even got the security of an extra friend, grounding you by touching you in a familiar way. Neither of these people [you weren’t even thinking of them as someone who might see you as a romantic or sexual target, but just as people] has ever done anything sincerely malevolent to you. By all accounts, you should be safe.

It shouldn’t be anything. It really shouldn’t be affecting you this much. Right?

[But when purity culture has been gnawing at you for a lifetime, it can be a lot just to spread your legs, let alone have someone between them.]

Damn Shinsou for being right.)

And Shinsou was peeling himself away from your stomach, reaching up to hold your face, to comfort you, to assure you it’s all right; he can move; you can do this another time or not at all, but it’s not really working. You kept squirming between both of them, unsure if you truly wanted to get away or be touched in a different way or anything at all: your brain had resorted to irrational anxiety.

In the back of your head, a reasonable voice noted that both of them were taking good care of you and that it made no sense for you to be writhing about like this (why weren’t you saying anything?!), but that voice never got loud enough for you to obey.

“Stay with me, sweetheart; stay here,” Shinsou was saying, moving back into a kneeling position to avoid physical contact with you where he could (but with the scant space, he could hardly avoid touching your thighs), shifting to hold only one of your hands, which he grasped desperately. “I’m gonna walk you through a grounding exercise, okay? And then when you’re ready, we can talk.”

Behind you, Monoma had been keeping a neutral presence, erasing himself when he couldn’t imitate Shinsou, and while he’d retracted his arms from around you so that you could escape, you were still trying to hide, almost, by retreating back against him. You caught it out of the corner of your eye but didn’t process the meaning until later: Monoma subtly manoeuvred his foot to graze Shinsou’s bare ankle.

And Monoma’s voice blended with Shinsou’s, warm breath ghosting over your ear. “Are you listening? You with us? Do you need us to go?”

You didn’t have any answers, and it was killing you. “I don’t know.”

It’d barely left your mouth before Monoma spoke. “Relax.”

Your brain emptied.

As if it unhinged itself from a latch and now hung loosely.

Into a comfortable, distant trance.

Body going limp. Muscles losing tension, as if you’d submerged yourself up to your chin in a hot bath. As if the tight spring that’s been coiled underneath your ribcage your whole life has now been reshaped by the touch of a forge you haven’t known, the hot, bright, molten metal oozing before it’s moulded into a gentler form. Your eyes fluttered closed, feeling a faint throbbing in the roof of your mouth.

You weren’t thinking, and it felt good.

You were barely able to hang onto even that observation, and therefore, you later had grace for yourself for not understanding what was happening between Shinsou and Monoma at the moment. In your floating, weightless distance, you absorbed the conversation but didn’t process it until much, much later.

You couldn’t be worried about their argument when you’d been told to relax, so the last hint of concern flew out of you before Shinsou ripped Monoma off of you and onto the floor. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Shinsou was whisper-shouting, his splayed hand pinning Monoma to the rug, “What the fuck? She’s never felt my quirk before; I’ve sworn I’d never use it on her, because it’d be—what the fuck is wrong with you, man? You said you’d fucking do what I said.”

Monoma was scrambling out from under Shinsou’s grip, and he let him go. “Fuck it, you never—you never told me that.”

“I didn’t think I’d have to? Jesus Christ, Monoma—”

“You saw her.” Monoma scowled and crossed his arms, plopping himself down in the desk chair. “I could feel her freaking out before you could see it, and it’s fucking heartbreaking, y’know? I didn’t—I felt fucking sorry for her and wanted her to be okay. That’s not a goddamn crime.”

“You forced her. You took away her agency and fucking forced—”

“Have you taken a look at her lately?” Monoma jerked his head in your direction. “Heard her talk about her soulmark? About her life recently? She’s only getting more stressed the longer this goes on. I want her to be able to relax, and I saw that I could give that to her.”

Shinsou paused, pinching his lower lip between his thumb and index finger.

Monoma went on. “Listen, I’m sorry. And I’ll apologise to her once she comes back down, but honestly, I think she deserves the time away from this. I know she’s your girl, but she’s my friend, too, and I want her to have some shred of peace.”

Shinsou frowned. “Don’t say that. She’s not—she can’t be my girl; she’s got a soulmate out there.”

Scoffing, Monoma waved a dismissive hand. “Shut up. You were fucking showing off earlier when you were scratching her head. How you made her follow your hands when you lifted them. That’s some infatuated shit right there.” He ran his tongue over his lower lip. “You teach her to do that?”

Shinsou tentatively sat next to you on the bed—and you, floating somewhere distant, still registered his weight sinking into the mattress and his hand near your face without touching it. “I hope not,” he said, brow furrowed, “I…I generally enjoy being a bad influence, but in her case, I’m terrified that I actually am.” He raised his hand to cup your face, but he withdrew, fingers hesitantly curling into his palm. “I don’t want her to change to please me or anyone else.”

At this point, your vision started to black out, spots creeping in at your periphery. You have no recollection of what you did next, but considering how both Monoma and Shinsou avoided your gaze when you asked about it later, you must’ve actually done what they said. You apparently took his hand in both of yours to play with his long fingers and said in a slightly slurred voice, “You sound nervous. Don’t be nervous.” And you promptly stuck his first two fingers in your mouth, taking them as far back as you could go and sucking.

An alarmed Shinsou, mindful of your teeth, removed them as quickly as he could, but neither he nor Monoma could erase their looks of shock before you dozed off.

***

You’d woken up nine hours later, with Shinsou asleep on the floor next to the bed and Monoma sleeping upright in the chair, arms crossed. They’d stumbled over each other in their apologies, but since you were feeling more well-rested than you have for the last ten years, you couldn’t bring yourself to be truly mad. Irritated, sure, but that’s inevitable.

You nibbled on the thumbprint cookies Monoma had made for you in the interim while they both empathically apologised, over and over and over. You still weren’t all the way there, but it was on purpose this time.

Because Shinsou’s quirk had felt absolutely fucking fantastic. And he’s been keeping it from you.

You’re confused, really, because if it’s got that mind-numbing pleasure tint to it, why’s he doling it out to others but not you? He’s said recently that he didn’t want you to get dependent on it, but that’s…that’s only an excuse he’s given since the soulmate incident. Otherwise, he just hasn’t, with no explanation. Has he leaked a clue somewhere along the way?

Nevertheless. His quirk had sponge-dabbed at your brain, washing and making it new while you were under its control. Your mind has felt cluttered and cramped for years, and his quirk ushered in spring cleaning, opening windows and letting in light.

Oh, no.

***

YOU

i found your so-called dom hype playlist. you didn’t even make it private!!!

YOU

why is it just the naruto soundtrack over and over again

HITOSHI 💜🍡

:(

HITOSHI 💜🍡

it makes me feel powerful :(

***

Though your gut was urging you to stay, you wanted nothing more than to go home.

Classes 3-A and 3-B had an undercover mission in four days, with all of you sectioned off into teams for quashing PLF bases spread across the country. One of the base locations was a high-end club, and those who were assigned there (Asui and Todoroki) had never been to a club before, a group of you were at a club tonight to help them get used to the environment.

Still early in the night, you had been among the few who hadn’t the courage to go dance first thing, so you had volunteered to guard bags and coats at the enormous table you’d commandeered towards the back, away from the music, close to the bar, and now with mismatched chairs shoved closely to make enough space.

Shinsou was only just now finally getting back from the crowded bar, his beer and your pink lemonade in hand, with Ojiro in tow, babbling and gesturing wildly.

You moved your bag so that Shinsou could sink into the blue leather loveseat next to you, and he nodded towards you, staying engaged in Ojiro’s conversation. Oh, yikes, Hagakure was there, too; you just didn’t see her—she’s strategically wearing something nearly translucent.

Thumbing at the condensation, you stared into your glass, cloud-shaped ice bobbing in pink, when Hagakure (presumably) grabbed Ojiro’s face to kiss him, and his tongue appeared to be inside her mouth. Shinsou glanced towards you, checking in, and when you made a mild, furtive look of oof, he leaned in towards you.

(“A club? We should go,” Shinsou had said, nudging your shoulder with his, “I want you to practise a greater level of casual touching while in public.”

“But we’ll be with our classmates this time,” you’d said, slumping down onto the picnic blanket you’d spread out on the roof of Class B’s dorm, “They’ll notice.”

Shinsou had flicked a straw wrapper into your hair. “Sure. And then it won’t be such an abrupt surprise when you do it with your soulmate.”

You’d rolled away from him, taking some of the picnic blanket with you. “But what if they see me be vulnerable?”

“I’ll keep that from happening. You have the perfect cop-out, too: you can always claim you were drunk.”

You’d peeled one of the heels of your palms from your eyes. “I…guess. I guess.”

“Anything you want to do to me is fine,” Shinsou had said, tearing the blanket away from you and smoothing it out again, “But I want you to start thinking about something else we’ll try soon. I’m giving you the choice of what to do, since it’ll be a bit more intense.”

“Intense?”

“Ah.” Giving up, Shinsou had shaken his head and had lain down next to you. “I misspoke. Intimate would’ve probably been better.”

You’d sighed and flipped towards him. “Lay it on me.”

Shinsou had counted off on his fingers, starting with his pinkie to irritate you. “Skinny dipping. I’d ensure no one could walk in on us, and I wouldn’t look at you, if you didn’t want me to. We could play strip poker or variations thereof—and once again, we could play it in some way that I wouldn’t be able to see you if you didn’t want, but you’d get used to being—being less clothed in the presence of a man.”

“That’s assuming I’d lose.”

Shinsou had cracked a smile. “So it is. Or I could undress you, and I—I could wear a blindfold, or something, if you didn’t—”

“Do you have one handy?”

Shinsou had propped his chin on his fist. “Do you even have to ask?”

“Any other options?”

Here Shinsou had looked away, instead staring into the night sky. “I—I was considering, if you’d let me, touching your boobs as an option, but that felt like a level more intense than the others. More personal. And I’ve concluded you aren’t there yet. Or at the point at which you could try sitting on my lap to get me hard.”

“Hitoshi, you’re insane. You’re going at it from too many angles.”

“Nah,” Shinsou had said, tilting his head towards you, “I want you to be comfortable, however we do this.”)

Shinsou’s hot breath unfurled down your neck as he whispered, “Use me. In any way you want.”

You smacked him in the chest, and he winced, clutching the spot as he grinned at you. “That’s fair,” he said.

For a while, the back table housed only Hagakure, probably grinding on Ojiro’s lap, Ojiro, whose tail shot straight up and stayed there, and you and Shinsou, smushed together on the leather loveseat, talking in hushed tones, starting with when he was going to return your copy of Fire and Hemlock and somehow ending up at which pokemon the top pro-heroes would eat.

When the others settled around the table in a break from dancing, you low-key mourned the loss of the privacy you’d had with Shinsou; it had been kind of cool that in this deafening, crowded place that you and Shinsou had had a moment alone, even with a couple actively making out beside you. No one else could fit on the loveseat, but even with enough space elsewhere, some soulmate-bound couples still overlapped, like how Mina and Kirishima were squished together in one chintz armchair and how Jirou had her legs splayed over Yaoyorozu’s lap in the next folding chair over.

You zoned out for a while—everyone else was talking at once, anyway, so that gave you leave to consider if Hawks would have a preferred evolution of Pigeot to deep-fry. But you were snapped back into reality when Aoyama suggested that the group should play truth or dare.

“Fuck no,” said Sero, slapping a hand over Kaminari’s mouth, “How old are we? Where are we? Get your head out of your ass.”

“And we’ve otherwise been working our asses off doing the boring prep for this mission, Sero, and we’re supposed to be having fun tonight, anyway,” said Mina, her tongue darting out to lick the salt around the rim of her glass, “I think we should.”

“I don’t want—look, it always goes the same way,” said Sero, and he let his hand fall from Kaminari’s mouth but still gripped his shoulder in a tight threat. “It’s either you get dared to perform some fuckin’ gross or sexual act, or you have to tell everyone who you like. We’ve moved past primary school, so I’m not—”

“Then we just change the base rules.” Kaminari didn’t bother dodging Sero’s thwack to his head. “We make it sort of reversed. Where truth is the more dangerous one to pick, and dare is extremely low stakes. There’s super personal shit that no one needs to know that I’m dying to know about some of you.” Kaminari lowered his heart-shaped glasses and stared pointedly across the table at Iida, Uraraka, you, and Shinsou in turn.

Kaminari’s proposal assuaged most issues the table had, so it came down to you and Shinsou as the ones still not wanting to play.

“Too dangerous,” said Shinsou, leaning back with his arms folded behind his head, “There are things that are my business only.”

“Yeah,” you said, sucking in through your teeth, “I’m not—I’m not into this. Plus, I’m really tired already, and, like, if we have to play something, can’t we think of a better game to play? This is—this is so fucking cliché.”

“Never mind,” Shinsou said quickly, giving you a strange look and letting his arms fall to his lap as he sat up straight, “I desperately want to play truth or dare. In fact, I demand it.”

Laughing, Kaminari reached over the table for Midoriya’s drained beer bottle (having to wrestle it from his grasp) and cleared out a space for it in the middle of the table, while you shrunk down in your seat, wishing you’d brought a book. Because—the bottle was spun—it could keep landing on the same person, meaning more focus could be on a single person than in a turn-based version of the game.

With the bottle landing first on Todoroki, Kaminari pulled no punches once truth was chosen: “Of your three closest friends, would you fuck any of them?”

Contrary to everyone else, Todoroki hardly reacted, instead his brow furrowing in thought. “I’m so fortunate to have so many friends,” he said carefully, “I’m not quite certain who would consider themselves closest to me.”

Uraraka grinned. “Well, who would you consider the closest?”

“Gracious,” said Todoroki, blinking, “I’m very lucky. My friends are so good to me. I—”

“Is he dodging the question or genuinely being weird about it?” Kirishima asked.

“Oh,” said Todoroki, “Well. My answer would be yes, I suppose. It would be wonderful that they’d believe themselves close enough to me to consider asking.”

“You fascinate me,” said Mina, reaching over to pat him on the head, “I want to study you like a bug in a jar.”

“You wouldn’t initiate?” Sero asked over Todoroki’s spinning the bottle, and Todoroki shook his head. “Valid.”

When it landed on Uraraka, she chose dare. “Hm,” said Todoroki, “Low stakes. I…You are dared to rest your head on Midoriya’s shoulder.”

Nearly in his lap, Uraraka was already almost doing that, anyway, so she complied.

From then on, you wanted to melt into the cracks in the floor and evaporate, even though the bottle hadn’t landed on you. All of the questions weren’t being phrased in a way that could fit someone like you—all questions assumed everyone’s had sex already, that everyone has some sort of sordid, sexual history, and good God, it sounded like everyone present did, to an extent (except for, perhaps, Todoroki, whose answers only spurred more questions). Even if their only sexual partner were their soulmate, the picture was painted that everyone was doing what you considered, to put it mildly, risky.

The most bizarre place Kaminari has jerked off was in a sewer, while he was staking out a suspect, with Pro-Hero Manual not far down the path. Midoriya’s favourite sex positions had to be looked up by the rest of the table, so for a delightful moment while Midoriya glowed beet red, everyone else hunched over their phones. Mina has given head in the recording booth for Put Your Hands Up Radio (“Everything was turned off, guys—except for Eijiro.”). Jirou would rather orgasm during oral rather than actual intercourse, and out of on a beach, a plane, or in the bathroom of a high-end restaurant, Yaoyorozu would prefer to have sex on a beach, because—she added unnecessarily—she’ll never have sex on a plane or bathroom again. After hearing that Kaminari would kill to muzzle someone, you concluded that you may be living in a different reality than the rest of your friends, and then the bottle pointed towards you.

You didn’t want to play. You didn’t want to admit anything. You didn’t even know what they’d get out of you—besides the fact that you’re a big-ass virgin, you supposed, and that would only open the floor to an awkward soulmate explanation. “Dare,” you said, sighing.

Narrowing his eyes, Kaminari tilted his head. The only other dares so far had been Uraraka’s head-resting and Sero to hold hands with Iida, which they were still doing, hands on the table between their drinks (Iida had made them swop seats so that his dominant hand could be free). “Riiiiight. I dare you to sit in Shinsou’s lap.”

Do what.

Shinsou turned towards you, brow furrowed with a quirk of the corner of his mouth to check if you were okay with it, if you were comfortable, and you sighed again, your shoulders heaving. “I guess,” you said, and you started to shift over but halted mid-movement. “Sit in lap how? Sideways? Straddling? Other way I don’t know?”

Eyes flicking around the table before settling back on you, Shinsou opened his arms and said, “Sideways is fine. I’ll help you—and don’t worry; you’re not bothering me.”

Holding your breath under everyone’s gaze, you climbed into his lap, crawling across his legs and then flipping, your ass mostly on one of his thighs while your legs draped across his other leg and into your old seat, and—holy fuck, Shinsou’s thighs were so thick that you sat a little taller than he did; you could put your chin on top of his head if you really wanted to, oh, my God. What the fuck. Shinsou must have seen the incredulity in your expression, because he guided one of your arms around his shoulders, to fit more comfortably in the space, while he wrapped an arm around your hips to stabilise you, fingers lightly pressing at a belt loop of your jeans, and with his other hand, he held yours in your own lap.

Jesus fucking Christ. You’re not going to make it out alive.

You needed time to process this, but you were denied it; you had to ask a question to Uraraka, since the bottle had landed on her again, and so you popped out what the table groaned to be the lamest question of the night: “Who’s in your ideal celebrity threesome?”

“Huh.” Uraraka steepled her fingers together. “Togashi Yoshihiro, in his prime…and Hawks.”

Kirishima screwed up his face. “Who the hell is Togashi—”

“He’s the mangaka for Hunter x Hunter,” said Todoroki pointedly, before closing his lips around the straw in his mostly drained strawberry daquiri and making a strident suction sound against the glass.

Kirishima screwed up his face more. “I get that writing a shounen manga can be manly, but why else would you choose specifically—”

“Because he pulled Takeuchi Naoko, the mangaka for Sailor Moon, even with his filthy apartment, poor fashion choices, bad posture, and questionable hygiene. The dick must be insane, in a rat-boy sort of way,” Uraraka was saying, running her hands through Midoriya’s hair, “Plus, he’ll feel insecure in comparison to perpetually charismatic Hawks, so there will be some sort of pathetic, competitive air to the sexual encounter.”

And then Uraraka was spinning the bottle, thank God, so any involvement with you ended. Shinsou—he could probably hear your fucking heartbeat going crazy from being paid attention from everyone else in a sexual context—rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, softly smiling up at you to calm you down, and something inside you caved. You had the impulse to curl into him, to close your eyes and press your mouth to his hairline, to ignore the rest of the group until it was time to go (Shinsou would keep you safe), but you couldn’t obey it, because the bottle pointed towards…you and Shinsou.

Squeezing your hand, Shinsou steeled himself (thighs flexing underneath you) and said, “That’s me. I don’t believe I’m in any position to complete a dare at the moment, so. Truth.”

“Oh, fabulous,” said Uraraka, clapping her hands once, “There’s so much I’ve been waiting to get out of you. What’s the most pertinent…hm.”

“Want some help?” asked Mina, leaning over Kirishima’s bicep and the armrest, holding her drink at a hazardous angle (Kirishima lifted it out of her hand to set it on the table when Mina leant further away).

After Mina had whispered in Uraraka’s ear for a minute, Uraraka returned her attention to Shinsou, biting the inside of her cheek to conceal her delight but practically beaming regardless. “What’s the most you’ve ever made someone come in one night?”

Shinsou’s eyebrows shot upward, his tongue flicking over his lower lip (and you tensed up. The hand at your hip squeezed it gently). “One night? Fourteen.”

“What the fuck.”

“That can’t be true. You’re fucking making that up.”

“With toys? With your quirk, right?”

“No quirk. Not really,” said Shinsou, bowing his head slightly, and he bit his lower lip, his teeth showing for a second when his lip curled in. “I happen to be very, very, very good with my mouth.”

Silence. In it, Shinsou briefly released your hand to spin the bottle himself, and he took it again as the bottle turned, threading his fingers through yours. Blankly, he bumped his forehead against your shoulder, like a cat, before a tired, half-grin stretched across his face. You returned it, fighting the urge to play with his hair.

But then your luck ran out for the next year or so. Perhaps your whole lifetime. For some reason, the bottle kept landing on you and/or Shinsou, and he kept speaking up to save you from answering. The relief and gratitude that flooded you each time Shinsou covered for you only made you wish you could do something for him, too—you could rent his favourite Everest documentary from the library again, get those bizarre sour jawbreakers from the Mom ’n’ Pop gas station in his home district…lie with him in your bed…play with his hair before he puts the mousse in…

What was his favourite position to give oral?

“Kneeling,” Shinsou said so quickly it was a bit startling, and he shifted underneath you, sitting forward. “Kneeling, with them on the edge of their seat, legs spread a bit too widely than what they’re comfortable with for them so that they feel exposed. They can’t touch me unless I let them, and I won’t. They have to ask permission to look.”

Okay, bucko, a follow-up of how you like to receive oral?

“I don’t, generally,” said Shinsou, tilting his head, “because if it’s about me, then my partner isn’t getting as much pleasure as they should be getting. But if they insist, it’s however they want to.”

No, idiot, this isn’t about your partners. This is about you.

“Fuck you. I have to be lying down, or close to it, because my knees tend to buckle if I come from oral.”

If your partner were going to send you a video, what could they do to make it turn you on the most?

“Oh, huh.” Shinsou shifted so that he could scratch the back of his head, and you moved your arm out of the way for the gesture. “First of all, I wouldn’t want my partner to send me anything like that. No nudes, or anything. Because that’s private. That’s intimate. That could get leaked or hacked, and really, her body would be for my eyes only,” said Shinsou, his eyes half-lidded, “In addition, odds are that any video wouldn’t live up to the real thing, so I wouldn’t want it. Just makes the ache worse. Besides, I’m the only one allowed to tease.”

You’re ridiculous. Fine, if the video would never be shared with anyone else, guaranteed, and it lived up to seeing them in person, what would that look like?

“Just my partner saying that she loves me, preferably after she’s just woken up. Sorry to disappoint, if you were expecting something kinkier.”

Spit or swallow?

“Offended that you have to ask.”

You were growing antsy—antsy on the cusp of hyperaware and jittery. Something about the night had gone stale, like you were at a high altitude without enough oxygen. Something about the way some people were reacting—Jirou’s controlled, stone-cold expression (pinched brows and shifting jaw to hint that it took focus to stay that way) paired with Yaoyorozu’s letting her hair down to hide her red-tipped ears, Mina’s constant, excited whispers alternating between Kirishima and Uraraka, Midoriya’s seeming lack of surprise to Shinsou’s answers while he peeled the label off of his fresh bottle. Were they acting like this because they wanted to contain themselves hearing it for the first time, or have any of them—any of them witnessed any of it? Shinsou had said that people you knew had enlisted him to dom for them, and…you didn’t know. Something about it didn’t feel right. Yes, these were your friends, and you loved them, but something about their seeing a part of Shinsou that you haven’t got under your skin. Your friends may love Shinsou, but you love him more.

“Hey, babe,” Shinsou said under his breath, while the bottle spun again, “I need you to let up a little, okay? You’re getting a little too tight.”

You looked down at Shinsou and shook yourself; you’d unconsciously been constricting your arm around the back of his neck, pulling his face near your boobs. You relaxed your arm for him to lean back.

“I also—” He set his hand on your knee, stilling it (how long have you been jostling it?). “—need you to stop fidgeting, if you don’t mind.”

The bottle was slowing, but Kaminari missed it entirely to stare over his martini glass at Shinsou’s mouth. With a glint of pale pink club lighting flashing over Kaminari as his eyes dropped to Shinsou’s chest, you were pierced with an icicle-cold awareness of the bulge under your thigh you’ve been too nervous to acknowledge, and a full-bodied shiver swept through you.

You pulled away from Shinsou, frowning down at him. “I do mind, actually. Come with me somewhere?”

“Of course,” said Shinsou, and he helped you off of his lap, ignoring the bottle and the protests of your friends. You couldn’t look back at him, lest you lose your nerve, but you grabbed his hand and led him through the club, shoes sticking on the beer-soaked floor, weaving through dancers and bar patrons until you ended up in some empty, mildewed corridor with one flickering, fluorescent light.

You spun on your heel, grit grinding under your shoe. You had no plan, but what came out of your mouth, pulled from somewhere deep in your gut, sounded right. “I need you to bite me.”

Shinsou blinked in time with the light flickering. “I’m sorry?”

“A love bite. A hickey, or whatever,” you said, and, taking his hands, you placed them on your own shoulders and made him push you against the wall, with the crackly dust under peeling wallpaper shook onto your sleeve even from the slight impact. “The next step you wanted me to think about. I choose this.”

“Oh.” Glowering towards the floor, Shinsou stuck his hands in his pockets, his mind somewhere else, but he recovered, face softening, and took a step closer to you. “All right,” he said cautiously, fiddling with his jacket zipper, “Is there—where do you want it?”

You were about to say the top of your left boob, since the low cut of your shirt allowed it, but an intrusive thought struck you, bringing to the surface the memory of Shinsou’s voice over the phone: I like to take advantage of the vulnerability of an exposed neck.

When you raised a finger over the pulse point on your neck, Shinsou froze, stilling all movement. Even the rise and fall of his chest halted for a moment. After a long beat, he snapped out of his distant haze, his Adam’s apple dipping as he swallowed. “Got it. I can do that.”

When Shinsou put his hands on your waist, you understood why people fight wars over people like him. Light and hesitant at first, his hands fell into their full weight at your silent encouragement, encompassing so much more of you than you’d thought, steadying you against the wall and back in reality. Drumming his fingers on your waist, Shinsou ducked his head, shot you a sliver of a smile, and pressed his lips to your neck.

His lips were cold. But Shinsou always ran cold, you told yourself, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that this dry, close-mouthed kiss to your neck was—oh. His lips parted (smoothly and a bit stickily; you’d seen him re-apply his coconut-pear beeswax chapstick at the bar), pressing more fervently against your neck as his tongue made the first sweep over your skin. He curved the tip of his tongue for the second lap, spreading more saliva over the spot, and at his first suck, your hands flew up to grip his biceps. You felt his mouth curl into a smirk and his quiet hum, and you, mildly embarrassed, slid your hands from his arms up around his neck, one of them sliding into his hair to press him further into your neck—he broke off to laugh under his breath, a heated huff brushing over the wet spot on your neck.

“You okay?” he asked, adjusting hold on your waist, one hand easing down to the small of your back and inching upwards between your shirt and your coat, his whole, flattened hand weighing down and warming you.

“I’m fine,” you said, keeping his head tucked in your neck so that he couldn’t see whatever embarrassing face you were making, “Keep going?”

“I’m gonna have to use my teeth now. Just a warning,” said Shinsou, and at your tap on the back of his head, he returned his mouth to your neck and sucked.

You inhaled sharply and gripped the back of his collar, crumpling it, while his tongue laved over the spot between sucks, hot and cold, pressure and release, and Shinsou pulled you tightly against him, his jacket zipper cool through the fabric of your shirt. He was lightly nibbling, gentle and barely there, between harsh sucks, the spot aching and raw, and he bared more of his teeth, letting the length of a few brush against you as an alert—and he sank his teeth into your skin, sucking, lips smushed to the tenderer wet insides.

“Holy shit, Hitoshi.”

When he pulled back, Shinsou licked his lips, his eyes glued to the spot on your neck. He swiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “Looks good.”

“That fucking hurt.” Releasing him, you ran your fingers over the spot, unable to tell any different aside from moisture and the slightest swell.

Shinsou raised an eyebrow and stuffed his hands in his pockets again. “It is a bite. Bites tend to—”

“Oh, shut up.” You fussed with the collars of your shirt and coat, wanting to frame the bite. “Help me out?”

Shinsou’s crooked grin returned. “You want it on display?” He adjusted your lapels for you. “Someone’s cheeky. Don’t tell me you were—”

“Don’t say it, fucker,” you said, deliberately averting your gaze to stare at the fluorescent light.

It took you the whole process of Shinsou arranging your shirt and coat, the shared grins, the navigating back through the sweaty throng, leading him by the hand, his cool one in yours, beat to some bubble-pop song pulsing in your ears and chest, and plopping back onto the loveseat at the group table to realise two things: one, that he’d been himself throughout that whole thing. He’d been joking, reacting like your friend instead of your dom. Like Hitoshi instead of that Shinsou you didn’t know. The dom persona had slipped away in a flash, or it hadn’t even entered the equation. So quick a transition, from what he’d been showing to the group to how he behaved around you. Had he noticed? Was it intentional?

And two: you really wanted to mark him back.

***

You dangled your legs off of 3-B’s dormitory roof, full of self-loathing and nervous energy. Stressed enough to fight the urge to exfoliate with a cheese grater all the way down to the bone.

The hickey had worked. No one had said a word about you or Shinsou the rest of the game. In fact, as soon as you got back, the game ended within a turn. Kaminari had opened his mouth, probably to ask where you’d been, but his eyes fell to your neck, and he shut his mouth, turning his attention to Sero and clamping his hand over Sero’s and Iida’s. The rest of your friends had behaved similarly, acting like nothing was wrong. It’d given you immense satisfaction, and you’d grinned into your refill of pink lemonade; you hadn’t noticed until the end of the night that Shinsou’s arm had been around you, resting in a divot in the leather on the back of the loveseat, running behind your shoulders. Felt good to be special.

Gritting your teeth, you clenched the edge of the roof, knuckles showing. Why it felt so good—you didn’t want to put it into words. If you did, that made it real.

Instead, you’d recruited Monoma to help you in a last-ditch effort to find your soulmate. You’ve been going through your old shit from freshman year, trying to find any record of someone calling you an ice princess. Or a bitch, or something along those lines. Since Monoma’s better at tech stuff, he’s been combing through everyone’s social media dated from the first semester at U.A., searching for any pictures of you or anything that could be vague-posting. You’ve even bothered Aizawa for the old seating chart and records of some of the earliest group exercises, though those weren’t appearing fruitful, either.

Mirio was watching Eri today, so Monoma and you were camping out on B’s rooftop, spreading out the blanket you and Shinsou usually used, with your laptops and old notebooks strewn across it. Monoma was currently taking a short break to make popcorn, so he’d be back in a few minutes.

It wasn’t enough. But you’ve involved another person, so you might as well see it through—but you wanted to quit looking. Fuck it if your memory were faulty and that you couldn’t remember who said your words to you. They didn’t matter.

(Fuck, no, don’t allow yourself to put it into words.)

([You can’t stop what’s already happening. You can’t kill a thought once it’s made its home in your head.])

(Yeah, so shut the fuck up. Don’t think it. Distract yourself. Keep searching for your—)

([—soulmate, whom you didn’t care to meet, because you had feelings for somebody else.])

***

YOU

hey y’know that page where ua students can submit anonymous confessions???

YOU

i found me in a post. in freshman year and everything

YOU

says that i’m a “frigid bitch who needs to pull the column outta [my] ass”

MONOMA 🔇🎭

oh lolololol don’t worry about that one

YOU

???

MONOMA 🔇🎭

I submitted that lol

YOU

drop your location right now so that i can come rip you to shreds

***

Once you acknowledged them, your feelings peeled you like a grape. No, more like—more like someone’s scraping away the outside of a pineapple with their fingernails, juice occasionally getting through, but mostly just a mess of spikes and sticky fingers, with the conclusion that it would’ve been easier to smash the damn thing.

Bad. Bad feeling. Evil, even. Shinsou trusted you, as a friend, and you’ve gone and put him in the romance zone. You’ve put him in a category he wouldn’t want to be in. Bad and evil and diabolical. Life-ruining. Relationship-ruining. You might lose him, and that would snap you in half like a raw carrot.

“Baby, you’re just staring at the bell peppers,” said Shinsou, leaning on the shopping cart, jolting you out of your reverie, “Pick two and c’mon. Everyone else has left the produce section; they’re over towards seafood.”

“Th—thanks,” you said, shakily accepting the plastic bag Shinsou handed you, but you made no move towards the bell peppers. “Why don’t you catch up? I can finish here.” And maybe process your thoughts enough to make a decision.

Shinsou smiled, standing upright to stretch his arms above his head. “Nah. What else do we need over here? I can get it for you.” Good God. His shirt rode up just enough to reveal a dark, violet line of hair trailing upwards, a soft line suggesting abs framing it, a thick waistband of a popular brand of boxers peeking out of his plaid pants. Stomach as salvation. Your eyes bulged and glazed over, but you shook yourself out of it.

“Uh,” you said intelligently, “Potatoes. Those mad small ones.” You made a circle with your middle finger and thumb as a measure. “Around this size.”

“Gotcha,” said Shinsou, already spinning around to scan the produce, “They come in purple; is it cool if we use those?”

“Of course,” you said, miles away somewhere, freezing and back in bed underneath a nest of blankets, with Shinsou tucked in next to you, his arms around you with his mouth to the back of your neck.

Oh, you’re fucked fucked.

You normally took normal bell peppers and normally put them into the plastic bag, like a normal person, and twisted it normally to seal them in, setting the bag in the toddler seat of the cart in a normal way. You’re good. You’re fine.

(How do you act around him? Is this how you typically behave around Shinsou?)

You have questions about his behaviour, too. Because you’ve looked back on your sessions with him, and the further they’ve gone along, the less stern the dom act has been. He’s been more and more like how he normally behaves around you, just with the addition of physical contact. Have you been making him be a poor dom, because he’s so used to you? He might not even realise that he’s slipping. Subconsciously, his behaviour has made it feel real to you, instead of as a service he does professionally, because he’s just been…himself.

You’re breaking that rule he establishes with other clients, which was not to develop feelings. He didn’t have this rule with you, but he’ll probably stop the sessions if he finds out.

You wanted Shinsou, just as he was. Yes, the dom persona was hot, but it was essentially just a door into your true feelings and wanting to touch him for real. If his dom act were slipping in your sessions, you’ll take it—it’s probably the closest you’ll ever have to being truly intimate and romantic with him without ruining your friendship.

Your heart skittered at the sight of Shinsou returning to the cart, bag of tiny, purple potatoes large enough to share with the class heaved in both arms, and you joined in his laughter at the pathetic, tinny noise he’d made lugging the bag into the cart. Shinsou commandeered pushing the cart from you, edging you off of the handle, but when you wouldn’t let up, he kissed your cheek. Frozen, you let him take the cart from you, and he hastily proceeded towards seafood, not looking back.

To keep the sessions going, you’d have to pretend you’re still looking for your soulmate.

The sessions could occur more frequently if you pretended the game of truth or dare made you feel like you’re falling behind.

***

“You’re an idiot.”

“Thanks, Neito. Care to offer any solutions?”

“No,” Monoma said, bending back over his laptop, “but I’ll start searching for other Shinsou Hitoshis so that you can kick their asses.”

You gestured for him to keep it down, jerking your head in Eri’s direction. She was watching Monoma’s Japanese-dubbed, extended edition of The Fellowship of the Ring, holding her unicorn-kitten doll in her lap, sitting atop the booster seat cushion for her spot on Aizawa’s couch. “If Aizawa-sensei hears Eri swearing, he’ll blame us.”

“Not my—” He cut himself off, wincing. “You’re right. I’ll keep the cursing to a minimum. But if you murder any other Shinsou Hitoshis that exist, then, de facto, he’ll no longer have a soulmate, and you can get with him.”

You sighed, sinking into one of Aizawa’s worn armchairs. “I’m not gonna resort to violence.”

Pursing his lips, Monoma shut his laptop for dramatic effect. “But you’ll resort to compromising your morals and fucking him.”

“Keep quiet,” you said, swatting at Monoma and missing, “I’m not gonna—how else am I—”

“I just don’t think you should.”

“I’m not gonna have—have sex with…”

Monoma sucked in through his teeth, reaching into his bag of trail mix. “You’re not emotionally ready,” he said, shaking his head, “If you added sex to the stuff you’re going through right now, you’d explode.”

“I know that,” you said, slumping down in your seat. You shot a mournful look towards Monoma, and you held out your hand for trail mix. “I…I don’t wanna have sex at this point in my life. I just don’t think it’s—I want to do it eventually, yeah. But not right now. I’m tired.”

He tilted the bag into your hand, shaking some out. “I understand. Why don’t you say fuck the soulmate shit and be with Shinsou regardless?”

“I don’t wanna take any shred of happiness from him,” you said, crunching, “If he has a chance at happiness with his soulmate, he deserves it.” You swallowed thickly. “I’m guilty as hell for wasting his time like this, but I admit that I’m selfish. I want him all to myself.” You picked through the mix you had in your palm. “I feel horrible about it,” you said softly, “but if I want to keep his attention in these sessions, I think I have to up the ante, at least a little.”

Grimacing, Monoma shoved his hand in the bag of trail mix. “Who put that in your head?”

***

YOU

want to try sexting????

HITOSHI 💜🍡

no <3

***

Against Monoma’s advice, you were going to make a move on Shinsou under the false pretences of soulmate preparation. Which, you supposed, wasn’t too different from what you’d been doing, but now you were deceiving him.

Shinsou could always notice when you were nervous or insincere in person, so you resolved to do it over the phone. Building up the courage to call him took half an hour of staring at your phone, face down on your bedspread, the whole decision-making process taking longer than usual, because the person you’d usually consult for advice was the very person you were going to call.

When you finally unlocked your phone and pressed the call button on his contact, your fingers darted to turn on the speaker, and you tossed your phone towards the foot of your bed, skibbling backwards away from it as if it were a slippery lizard you’d found in your sheets.

Six trills of the dial tone later, Shinsou answered, fumbling his phone, by the sound of it, and out of breath. “Hello?”

God, his panting reverberating throughout your dorm room made your heart race, and you needed to be in control for what you’re about to say. You scrambled to pick up your phone to switch off the speaker and hold it to your ear. “Hi, Hitoshi.”

“Yeah, hi.” With his rumbly, winded voice low in your ear, it was as if he were standing next to you, instead of near a busy street, judging by the rush of cars passing in the background and the skid of tires. “What’s up?”

Okay. You are strong and brave, and you can do this. You can and will be this ridiculous man’s personal whore in the name of love. “Hitoshi,” you said, letting a whine creep into your voice, “When are you coming home? I need you.” Hopefully, he couldn’t hear your cringe when you said those things.

You could, however, hear his frown when he spoke. “I,” he said, pausing, and you could easily picture the crease between his eyebrows, “I’ll be home soon. I’m out on my bike. What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”

“A little. I don’t know quite what’s wrong with me, but I really, really miss you, so much, and I need you to come home now so that I—fuck.” You took a slow, controlled breath, and when you came back down, words that weren’t your own spilled out of your mouth, pulled from somewhere deep inside you—as if they were a surfacing whale carcass from the Mariana Trench of your stomach (the loose script Monoma had helped you draft lay forgotten). “’Toshi, I’ll be real with you. I need something in my mouth. I need your strong hands spreading my thighs. I need your mouth on my boobs, licking and sucking up until you can bite the side of my neck. I need to watch you touch yourself, to see how you make yourself feel good and learn how I can do the same. It’s a side of you I don’t know. It’s a side you haven’t let me in. I need to know what all you’re capable of, because I know you’re capable of teaching me, of corrupting me, and I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Three cars honked in quick succession in the background while Shinsou stayed silent. “Who put you up to this.”

“Nobody. No one can tell me what I want. And I want all of you.”

“Bullshit. That’s fucking bullshit. Tell me who’s been pressuring you to have sex. You wouldn’t want this with me otherwise.” Shinsou wasn’t panting anymore. His voice was stony and flat.

“Is it that hard to believe that I want you of my own volition?” you asked, and you covered yourself with your throw blanket, burrowing out of sight, even though he’s halfway across town. “Are you saying I’m not capable of making this decision?”

“No,” Shinsou said, “I simply don’t think you would. It’s—it doesn’t line up with what I know about you.”

That’s fine. That’s why you have a fake motive. “I’m tired of being so far behind the rest of our friends. It makes me feel so small and immature, hearing them talk about things I haven’t experienced, and the game we played at the club proved how far beyond me they are.” You swopped your phone to your other ear so that you could lie down on your preferred side, and you snuggled into one of your stuffed animals. “I—I don’t want my soulmate to be embarrassed by me or unsatisfied with what I can do. I just want to be good enough. You’re my lifeline, Hitoshi. You can give me what I can’t give myself.”

“Fuck off with that. Soulmates aren’t—hold on. My helmet’s getting in the way.” Rustling and the click of a strap, and Shinsou’s voice came in more clearly—and he overenunciated each syllable, signalling that he was growing livid. “Soulmates aren’t all about sex. Life isn’t all about sex. I’ve been holding back the entire time we’ve been dealing with this soulmate shit, because telling you what I really think only bounces the fuck off your stubborn ass: I honestly think what you’ve been doing with me in the name of your soulmate is fuckin’ psychotic. Everyone lives a different timeline; there’s no standard for when a so-called life event is supposed to happen, if it happens at all,” said Shinsou, “You can graduate university at 90 and have your first kiss at 45 and learn to ride a bike when you’re 23. It’s fine if you never check all the boxes. You’ve never been behind. You are your own, on your own path, at your own pace. So, please, don’t rush into love, baby.”

Baby. He called you baby. He’d done it before, but now, you craved it. You cherished it. You could pretend it was real. “If you really thought it was a bad idea,” you said, eyes fluttering shut, entertaining the thought of Shinsou being there with you, spooning you and calling you baby softly in your ear, “why—why did you go along with it? Why did you offer?”

Shinsou huffed into the phone, and the sound was familiar enough for you to picture his expression as he did it: pursed lips, scrunched nose, dark eyes. “Because otherwise, you might have gone to someone who might hurt you. Because when some people hear that there’s a virgin in a vulnerable position, depending on them, they can lose sight of the person in front of them, instead fetishizing the corruption of virginity, because—because do you know how much the idea of teaching a virgin how to love you and only you drips with sexuality? People go crazy, sweetheart. Virginity can—it can attract the wrong people, and it can repulse the wrong people. You shouldn’t be with anyone who sees something like that as a problem.”

God, he’s so nice. He’s so compassionate. You were arguing with Shinsou over, essentially, his decision to be kind to you. What a dependable fucker. Why can’t he be your soulmate? “So, you’ve been holding back from telling me all of this. Anything else you’ve been holding back? Any other information, or—or in how you’ve been touching me. Are you one of those virginity fetishists, Hitoshi? Have you wanted to touch more of me?”

“I’m not reducing you to a fetish, clearly, and—and you belong to someone else,” said Shinsou, sounding like he was gritting his teeth, “If I were your soulmate, then I would allow myself to want more from you. But I’d only do it if you wanted it—for real, not whatever you’re doing now—because I’m not a selfish bitch.” Each word sounded like it had to fished out of his stomach with a barbed hook. “I can fucking wait for you, because I wouldn’t ever want you to be fucking scared around me for any reason, and I’ll keep waiting. I don’t mind. You’ve got the rest of your goddamn life for all of this.”

Welp. Shinsou was more upset than you meant for him to be, but perhaps this conversation would frustrate him enough to kiss and suck at your neck during a movie when he returned. “Then come home and touch me, Hitoshi. Fucking do it. I want you to. Stop holding back.”

“No. No, I won’t. I—something’s up with you. You’re not acting like yourself, and—and it’s pissing me off. You don’t know what you’re asking for, and you can’t really mean it. You’d never want me. You’re being a goddamn brat,” he said, and you could picture him running a hand back through his hair, mouth twitching, scowling, “Is that what this is? Does my precious baby girl wanna be punished? Seems like you want something drastic. I can give you that. Listen up: I’m about halfway through my bike route. Go to my room. In my bedside table, there’s a toy I’ve chosen for you. Originally, it was gonna be used months down the line, but since someone can’t watch that bratty mouth of hers—when I get back to the school, I’d better find you fucking yourself with it.”

“Wait, what?” You snapped upright, the blanket pooling around your waist.

 “You heard me, you lying little minx. I’m not going to lift a finger for this punishment. You’re doing it all by yourself.”

What the fuck. “Why are you being so mean?”

“Why? Are you getting wet?” Shinsou scoffed into the speaker. “Key’s in the usual place. Get to it,” Shinsou said, and he hung up.

Numbly, you lowered your phone to your lap, staring as the screen returned to your home wallpaper.

Uh. That’s. That’s a bit more extreme than kissing your neck. You supposed…you supposed that you should do what he said, lest he get even angrier.

You went to his dorm. The fake cactus you’d given him rested on the windowsill, bathed in sunlight, and after a quick check to the soil—moist—you permitted yourself a smile. You dropped it when you opened the top drawer of his bedside table, but you hid the toy under your shirt and dashed back to your room before you or anyone else could get a good look at it.

Locking the door behind you, you pulled the toy out from underneath your shirt. New in the package, so that alleviated any worries about sabotage. You cut it open, and silicone cock dropped into your lap. It’s a pale blue, almost translucent thing, and it’s five and a half inches, according to the packaging. For a moment, you were insulted at the size, because didn’t Shinsou think you could take something bigger? But then you remembered that you and what pussy would be taking it, so. That’s fair. There doesn’t seem to be anything special about it—no suction or vibration or anything. Just a fake dick.

How do you even prepare for this? You changed out of your pants into a semi-short skirt, deciding you still wanted to be somewhat covered, and you tossed your underwear to the foot of your bed. While you were laying down a towel, you briefly considered if you should put on that virgin English song by Madonna. Not English English, but—wait, was Madonna from England? Or another English-speaking country?

You’ve masturbated before, of course; you’re not an idiot, but you’ve never—you sighed, cringing at the five and a half inches—taken something this long or wide inside you (which aspect would be more trouble?). Lying on your bed atop the towel, you held the dildo up to the light, blue specks of glitter shining through. You parted your legs and rubbed the tip through your folds, completely bone-dry, feeling inadequate and ashamed that you couldn’t get turned on, worried about Shinsou and what was going through his mind, and Madonna was from America, from a place called Bay City in the state of Michigan but was raised around Detroit, and you couldn’t focus on getting aroused or anything, so though you were circling your clit, it wasn’t doing anything for you, and the tip of the dildo could barely make it inside you, not even passing the first ring of muscle. Using the head, you gathered what slickness you could, even teasing and prodding your clit with the rubbery material before trying to work the head past the first, tense ring, but the stretch of it burned, entrance strained and stinging, while your feet slid against the towel and blanket, trying to give you extra traction to get it in—and it slipped out of you entirely, the head bouncing as it flopped to lie flat on the towel between your legs. Jaw clenched and eyes watering, you were flooded with a hot rush of embarrassment. If you can’t take this, how would you ever take Shinsou’s cock?

Time passed without your noticing, but it felt like no time at all before you could feel yourself drying out, even though you were never that wet to begin with. Collapsing back and staring at the ceiling, you took a deep breath and smoothed down your skirt, wanting nothing more than to go back to before you made the phone call, but you’ve dug your own bed, so now you have to grave/lie in it.

But you couldn’t get it inside you.

You fished the dildo out from underneath you, and to your surprise, the cockhead had turned a light lilac at the wet heat between your legs, and it was slowly fading back into blue. Okay. You got it. Another phone call would further your cause. Dread building, you called him again, and he picked up after a single ring, quiet. “Hitoshi?”

“Yeah?”

A short reprieve of relief passed through you at his calm inflection, but it left when you braced yourself for what you had to say. “I—” Goddammit, steam would be coming out of your ears if you grew the tiniest iota more embarrassed. “I can’t get it in.”

Though only a few painful, prolonged seconds elapsed, the silence that followed felt long enough for you to have listened to Madonna’s entire discography. Eventually, a careful, resigned-sounding Shinsou said, “Would you like me to give you instructions over the phone, or do you want me to come over?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see, and said in a small voice, “I think you should come over.”

“Right,” he said, “Give me three minutes.”

Two minutes later, you were opening your door for him. Freshly showered with damp, partially fluffed hair (he must not have put in his mousse yet), Shinsou rushed to hug you before you could lift your hand off the doorknob, his muscular, still wet-warm arms wrapping around you with great fervent, pinning your own arms to your sides, and he tucked his chin into the crook of your neck, mouth half on your shirt and half on your skin.

“Oh, baby,” he said, his nose scrunching against you while he smushed you against him, getting your own shirt damp, “You don’t have to do any of this. I’m so, so sorry. I was inexcusably angry, and I didn’t—I leant into hard dom mode because I froze up and didn’t know how to react, and being a hard dom comes easily for me. You didn’t have to—I was terrified. I’m sorry.”

“No, I—I wanted to be good for you. I wanted to be so good,” you said, and Shinsou pulled back enough to look at you, his hands on your waist (!!!), and he gasped softly when he caught your drying tear lines. “Because I was being unfair to you. Being a brat. Pushing you.” You sniffed, closing your eyes as Shinsou cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a fresh tear. Two more ran down your face before you managed to get out, “Help me make it fit?”

Shinsou avoided your eyes by moving to your bed while retrieving the small, squeeze bottle of lube from his back pocket. You winced when he picked up the dildo, since the head was still slick and purple, and he twisted it around, looking it over, while he sat on your bed against the wall, legs outstretched across your bed. “I see you didn’t get very far.”

“Shut up; it’s dried off,” you said, one knee on your bed, wrinkling the towel, “And so what if I’ve got a tiny vagina. It means you can indulge in any size kink shit you have going on with your massive, monster dong.”

“Don’t fucking say it like that,” Shinsou said, laughing a bit but refusing to meet your eyes, and he patted his thigh for you to sit. “You probably didn’t warm yourself up well enough.”

Good. Good. So far, it had been unfolding comfortably, like an average hangout, ish, but when you swung your leg over Shinsou’s lap to straddle him, everything became much realer. Heavier. Both of you tensed up, with you hovering above his lap, really, instead of putting your weight on it, and when your skirt rose up a hair, you flattened it back down. “Warm me up, then.”

The shock in Shinsou’s widened eyes reflected your own. Where had that come from? “I don’t think I should,” he said, his fists bunched in your bedding.

“Hitoshi,” you said, shifting farther up his hips but still hovering, “I want you to be the one to stretch me out.” You did a very good impression of a completely calm, normal person as you held up the dildo. “Should I—should I lick it first, or something? To make it easier?”

Shinsou made a noise that sounded like a combination of coughing and choking. “No, uh. Natural—natural lubrication. Would be best. First,” he was saying as you guided his cold, trembling hands to your thighs, “Let’s. Let’s try that. First. If that’s okay.” His touch was so light that you barely felt it, so you pressed down on his hands, his fingertips indenting in your skin, and you nodded, letting him know it was okay. Watchful for your approval, he hesitantly smoothed long strokes down your thighs.

“That’s fine. It’s—it’s what I called you over for,” you said, losing brain cells when you noticed how much of your thighs Shinsou’s large hands could hold, “Touch me? I trust you.”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll.” He swallowed visibly, spit audible. “I’ll keep your skirt down so that you don’t have to show me anything; you’ll be safe. I won’t—I won’t take advantage of you. You’re safe with me. Why don’t you—” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you put your hands on my shoulders to steady yourself?”

Going a step further, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leant in, holding him close, shoving your nose in his neck, getting struck with some sort of fruity scent (pears?), and arching up as an afterthought to give him better access, your skirt riding up to reveal just the slightest curve of your ass.

Shinsou rubbed your thighs twice more, the second time allowing his fingertips to dip under the edge of your skirt before running back down your thighs. He then slowly drew his shaking hands up in parallel all the way up to your hips, his fingertips pressing into the swell of your ass and his thumbs sliding into the line where your thighs met your—

“Holy shit,” said Shinsou, snapping his hands back as if he’d been scalded, “You’re—you’re not wearing anything.”

You clenched around nothing at the crack in his voice. You were about to ask him if he typically wore his underwear while masturbating, but you found that you couldn’t get your mouth to work.

“Hold on,” Shinsou was saying, and you leant back, dragging your arms from around his neck to rest on his shoulders, “I need a minute.” He closed his eyes, pressing his thumb and index fingers against them, biting his lip, clonking his head back against the wall.

Saliva building in your mouth and thighs about to give out, you eased your weight onto Shinsou’s lap—and his breath hitched the moment your bare cunt pushed against his cock, achingly hard and bulging in his sweats.

“Good Lord, have mercy,” said Shinsou, opening his eyes to half-lidded and dragging his hand down his face, a flash of alarm reaching his eyes when his hips involuntarily bucked up into yours (probably at the wet gush that had dripped onto him). The movement had shot arousal from your clit all the way up to the back of your throat, so you tried to roll your hips against him, mimicking his motions. Shinsou stopped you, his hands shooting to your thighs to still them. “No, you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” he said, breathing hard, “I am honoured you’d even let me touch you.”

Honoured? You scowled when Shinsou buried his face in his hands, because you’ve had enough of his casual comments here and there that he’s not worthwhile. That he’s not worth loving. That no one would ever want him. Ha, as if it were possible you couldn’t want him. Shinsou has always looked at you with a tenderness that ached. He knew you and valued you and saw you, just as you truly were, and didn’t ask for anything more. How could you ever love anyone else?

From this angle, the sag of his sleeve revealed the final syllable of his name written on his wrist.

So, you fucking did it. You grabbed his wrists to move his hands out of the way and kissed Shinsou. It was probably a bad, desperate kiss, since you didn’t know what you were doing (probably too firm?), but the way Shinsou sighed into it made up for the wave of insecurity. The moment when his shoulders slackened, you celebrated in your head, relishing how his cold, coconut-pear lips were just warming up, but Shinsou shuddered and pulled away, pushing at your shoulders.

“What are you doing? Weren’t you saving that for your soulmate?” asked Shinsou, spluttering and panicked, “It’s just me. You wasted it on me.”

“I didn’t waste it. There is nothing just about you, Hitoshi. Listen, I—I don’t want things to change, but at the same time, I do. I’ve decided I don’t fucking care about my stupid, fucking soulmate. I don’t fuck with him. I want you.” You removed his hands from your shoulders to grasp both of them, closing some of the distance he’d creating by scooting nearer to him—cracking a smile at the way his dick twitched when you inadvertently grinded on him. “I think I always have. You are lovable and witty and kind; you look at me and handle me with gentleness to the extreme. I will never connect with anyone like the way we do. No one is like you, Hitoshi.”

His hair was fluffing back up, and based on his expression, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was being electrocuted. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“My soulmate is probably a bastard, anyway,” you said, jerking your head to the side, “and your soulmate—I can’t stand the thought of losing you. I want to be the closest to you forever, or as long as you’ll have me. It terrifies me that someone else could get between us. I want you to take all my firsts; I want you to be the only one who ever touches me—”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Shinsou was saying, muffled behind the fist he’d brought to his mouth, the tips of his ears flaming red, “Baby, please don’t say things like that to me. You’ll give me hope.”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry for ruining our friendship like this, but I’m in love with you. I love you. I always have, without even knowing. And I always fucking will, even if some bastard soulmate shows up someday. I choose you. You’re what I want, every day for the rest of my life, and I wanna be yours.”

Shinsou sighed, shoulders heaving as he embraced you, holding you tightly. “Don’t worry about ruining our friendship; I did that already. I got caught in my own damn capture weapon the day Tainted Love attacked. I could’ve stopped her if I hadn’t. I could’ve prevented all of this. We could have kept going, keeping a tender distance, so neither of us would be…burdened.”

“Fuck you and your conception of being a burden—”

“And I have a hunch who your soulmate is,” said Shinsou, deflated as he pulled away.

You blinked. “You what?”

“I’m evil and sinister and foul for keeping it from you. But I—I talked to Tainted Love. Got some help. I think I know.”

“I don’t need to know,” you said, lifting your hand to hold his cheek, and his eyes fluttered shut, his light purple lashes contrasting against his skin.

Shinsou leant into your palm, looking like the world had been taken off his shoulders, but he furrowed his brow and opened his eyes, his jaw shifting. “I’m not going to tell you how I feel until you know who it is.”

“Hitoshi,” you said, grinning weakly, “I’m pretty sure I already know how you feel.”

Shinsou took your hand, sliding it off his face and held it palm up, and he traced over the lines with his middle and ring fingers. “I don’t think I should tell you until you know your soulmate.”

“Fine, then. Enlighten me.”

“You sure? I’m evil and sinister and foul,” Shinsou said again, dodging when you moved to flick his forehead for debasing himself, “and I’m about to get even worse.” He ran his tongue over his lower lip, eyes flicking to yours. “There’s one way to figure it out for certain. Do you trust me?”

“I tried to impale myself on a fake cock for you. What do you think?”

Shinsou laughed, finally, easing into his crooked grin, turning a sad sort of bittersweet at the last second. “Remember the first time we met.”

It’s as if a ghostly hand was penetrating your mind, tracing back and back and back, through filing cabinets of memories, farther back than you could’ve reached yourself, exhuming parts of your past you’d forgotten that flashed by in hazy slideshows of photographs as it thumbed through manilla folders. When the hand appeared to startle in revelation, it slithered a shoddy file from its misplaced location, shoved sideways along the drawer vaguely labelled to be first semester, freshman year. When the hand was joined by its pair, you realised they were your own, and when you opened the file, you were plunged into the memory, set to relive it exactly.

God, you’re going to be late. You’re never late, and this way, Aizawa was going to get a bad impression of you and your standards. It’s not your fault that this follow-up to the Sports Festival was scheduled at the ass-crack of dawn, but—and you sucked in the morning air through your teeth, pulling your collar up to protect you from the wind—it was, admittedly, your fault that you’d stayed up late with Asui and Jirou. It’d been like a sleepover, almost, and you were loving the people your classmates were turning out to be.

What was this meeting for, anyway? All of the Sports Festival participants were invited, so it must be some sort of practical evaluation of your performances. Maybe how you can improve. But why did it have to be before school? Aizawa was crazy.

You skidded to a stop in front of the gym and swung open the door, and it creaked so loudly that fucking everybody stopped what they were doing to stare at you. Smiling nervously, you took a step inside.

Yamada shot you finger guns from his place atop a lump in a yellow sleeping bag. “WAY TO MAKE AN ENTRANCE! YOU’RE SO LATE, AND WE COULDN’T START WITHOUT YOU, SINCE WE’RE REVIEWING THE EVENTS IN ORDER! WE HAD TO GO AROUND AND SHARE FUN FACTS ABOUT OURSELVES!”

“I’m so sorry.” Any excuse you would’ve made wouldn’t’ve made up for your classmates’ suffering, so you didn’t offer one.

You scrambled to the back of the group, hunching in on yourself, and as soon as you found a place, you heard a scoff.

“Looks like the ice princess finally decided to grace us with her presence.”

Your jaw dropped, and you turned to face some purple, troll-haired bitch with bags under his eyes. Ah. You knew this guy. He’d scoped out Class A before the Sports Festival and insulted your new friends to their faces. That sort of jackassery would not be tolerated by you, so you’d adopted a rather cold, defensive front to anyone outside of Class A for the time being, presuming they felt the same. Oh, yes, you remembered this guy, above all others shunning your class.

You scowled back, the corner of your mouth twitching, and you spoke with disdain. “Shinsou Hitoshi.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but both of you snapped towards the front when Yamada clapped and began yelling again.

You were ripped out of the memory by the softest orgasm you’ve ever had, gentle and washing through your body like a bathtub overflowing; you found yourself held snugly by Shinsou’s arms, clutching you to his chest, while your hips grinded against him, arousal seeping out of you and soaking the fabric over his pulsing cock.

Gasping, you kissed the side of his neck, and he shuddered. “Hitoshi.”

“You’re back?” Shinsou raised a hand from your lower back to stroke your hair, pulling away to smile at you. “You were under for a while,” he said, and he slowly, deliberately, rolled his hips into yours. “Seems like you had a good time. Started grinding on me all by yourself. I tried to stop you, but you—” He broke off, grinning and shaking his head. “You moved to suck at my neck, and I fucking shattered.” He tapped a spot, spit reflecting in the light.

“There’s no mark, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you said, and you slumped against him. “Thank fucking God. I’m so glad that it’s you. I wanted it to be you. I was ready for it to not be, but I’m so fucking relieved.”

“Excellent,” said Shinsou, lifting your chin by tapping the underside of it, “because I love you so fucking much.” Cradling the back of your head, Shinsou pulled you into a fervent kiss, desperate and firm as you’d been at first, but softening when you parted your lips a little, and the subsequent slide of his tongue against yours made your head buzz with pleasure, doubling when he let out a needy groan.

“Oh, my God, you’re fucking perfect,” you said, breaking off to breathe, and he chuckled, resting his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and pressing his lips to your bare skin there. “Wait. You used your quirk on me. I don’t know what you’re on about, Hitoshi; it felt incredible.”

“That would be the orgasm you just rode out on my thigh, sweetheart,” he said, nuzzling into you, cold and hot at the same time.

“No, it was something different, too, something I felt when Neito used your quirk on me. It feels—it felt like you were holding me, unbearably fond and full of compassion.”

Shinsou blinked, his eyelashes brushing against your neck. “Well. I’ve never heard my quirk described as something affectionate. If it’s like that way for you, then I’m glad.” He took a deep breath, the exhale fanning over you, and he pressed his lips to your neck, letting them linger, softly puckered, before speaking again.“I’m so fucking glad I don’t have to dance around my feelings anymore with the dumbass teaching sessions. I’m out of practise, anyway, since I stopped doing them for anyone else a long time ago; you caught me being evil, right? When I allowed myself to be me instead of the dom I moulded myself into.”

“I noticed,” you said, bringing a hand up to scratch the base of his scalp, and he fucking moaned. After a brief pause, you continued, feeling powerful and loved. “But good. Good. I was—I was scared of going further, but I didn’t know how else to keep you acting all romantical with me. I don’t wanna have sex with you. Yet. I’m not ready.”

“I know,” he said, and you felt his grin as he pressed a light kiss to your neck, once, twice. “I don’t wanna have sex with you, too.”

“How romantic.”

“You know what I meant,” he grumbled, blowing cold air over the slight wet spots he’d left, and you shivered with a laugh. “I will wait however long you need to. I’m in no rush.” He propped his head sideways on your shoulder, looking up at you. “To be honest, I know I wouldn’t last, even if we did. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna come the moment I touch your sweet cunt.”

“How romantic,” you deadpanned again, Shinsou’s huff tickling you, and your fingers curled into his soft hair. “But yeah. I love you. And now—now we can be sincere about it. Real. We don’t have to hold back anymore.” You gently guided Shinsou up so that you could cup his face and smile at him, lips close enough to suggest another kiss. “You can love me with everything you’ve got.”

Face framed by your hands, Shinsou looked like he was in the clouds. “That I can do.”

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz, @kissmebakugou, @pachiibatt, @celestair, @tiredkittykat, @cheshireshiya, @90s-belladonna, @infjsnightmare

Hitoshi Shinsou x Neko?Reader

Summary: Shinsou’s crush is tricked into eating something that turns her into a half-cat half-human

A/N: If you know where I got this idea and picture, we have to talk. So I was supposed to post this 2 days ago and I thought I did but I found it on my drafts and checked my acc and it wasn’t posted

Qurik: Not specified

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, cursing, lack of Bakugou

WC: 1,346

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a Wednesday when the group started scheming. The Bakusquad had been trying to help you and Shinsou get together, as pushy supportive friends do. You weren’t really part of their squad, you hung out with the casually and did so with the Dekusquad, and with everyone else. You were more of a social butterfly, spending time with anyone you felt like. 

Which is why you befriended Shinsou. You lost your way one day looking for the teacher’s lounge to give papers to your advisor, Aizawa. You went to the first person seemingly heading to the same direction as you and asked them for help. He was the guy. He questioned you if you knew who he was, assuming you knew he had a brainwash quirk. You said no, you were to busy preparing for your battle to watch his and Deku’s. 

You and he got close, everyone cheered him on but no one could lie that they were completely comfortable with him, and he could tell. You, on the other hand and quite a few people in Class A, were not afraid of him whatsoever. 

Even so, you were the kindest person he met. You would actually go out of your way to find him to eat lunch together, you would invite him to hangouts, often you being the one he stays with a lot during those. You were also pretty. Very pretty. You had received confessions before from other guys but turned them down. You were holding out for someone, you didn’t know who, but it was fairly obvious to everyone all around.

Everyone could tell you were in love with Shinsou, except for you and him, obviously, and they made it their mission to get you two together. You didn’t know why you were in love with him, I mean, you didn’t know you were in love with him, but still. Maybe it was his kindness towards you, reflecting yours to him, or maybe it was the general way he treated you. His comfort when you’re going through a rough time, or how much he radiated safety, you loved to be around him. You also trusted him with your life, he has never used his quirk on you without permission and when he did it was always jokingly to steal your snacks. It was never a big deal. 

He loved you for the same things. You were one of the first people he met who trusted them fully. You two got along really well, only having fights when t’s about each others health or grades. You two were protective of each other as well, he often got jealous of all the men confessing to you and you would scold him if he slept too late. He found it endearing because it showed how much you cared for him.

Anyway, this Wednesday your friends were plotting a scheme. There was a new product being sold in a bakery exclusive to Musutafu, it was a quirk-infused cookie that could temporarily make you part-human, part-animal. It came with a wavier that you have to sign and it would last 12 hours. There are cookies to make you part dog, cat, bunny, and even panda. It was also pretty expensive, it cost the same as a pack of cookies but instead it was only a small square cookie. 

Yaoyorozu was the one who bought it as a favor to Ashido and she and Kirishima planned it and asked the group to go along with the plan. They explained that they would invite you on a hangout and you would obviously bring Shinsou with you and they would make an excuse for you to eat the cookie and you would turn into a cat. 

“Wait why a cat?” Kaminari asked

“CUZ! Shinsou likes cats and we’ll force him to take care of Y/N” Ashido explained

“How do you know he likes cats?” Kaminari asked, not paying attention to anything

“Y/N talks about him all the time” Yaoyorozu sighed, “Anyway, this should be enough for a cookie” she said, handing them bills from her wallet

They all thanked her with a promise of telling her how it goes before leaving and perfecting their plan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday eventually rolled around, you got Shinsou to join you and the group and you all were on a train to wherever the next stop is. You sat next to Shinsou, him not as familiar with this group of people as he is with Midoriya’s. He looked over your shoulder as you scrolled through Twitter, looking at the shit that was on your feed. You both snickered whenever you saw something funny, only fueling the determination your group had to set you two up.

The train stopped moving at one point and both of you had gotten up. You held his wrist, not to letting him stray away as he did once before, and guided him to the exit. You all left the train station and went to the closest cluster of food stalls and vendors, hoping to find food and stuff to look at or even waste money on. 

You and Shinsou walked together ahead due to your constant pulling. You went to every stall, guided by the smell, and looked at other cute stuff to buy, dragging Shinsou along with you. The group behind you went to enact the scheme, knowing how Shinsou’s eyes were glued to you as you moved about, cheerful and full of energy contradicting the tired demeanor you held toward the end of the weekdays. He looked at you with so much adoration his eyes could turn into hearts. 

When you had the idea to go look for a restaurant to have lunch in, you had lead the group to a space with less people, stopping at the front of a sushi place. Ashido had pulled the cookie wrapped in plastic out of her bag, before jogging lightly to catch up to you. 

“Hey Y/N, I saw this as a free sample and I thought you missed it, do you want it?” she asked

She knew you loved getting free samples, because of course you do. You thanked her and unwrapped the cute cookie. It was a small square with a cute cat design on it. You immediately stuffed it in your mouth, wondering why the group was just standing around. The cookie tasted strange, it was sweet like a normal sugar cookie with the royal frosting on top but there was an underlying bitter and somewhat fishy taste.

Before you could ask you felt something weird, you felt your ears shift and you’re hearing had sharpened, your vision had changed too, it was weird. Some shadows had become lighter, as if they weren’t there, and reds looked more like greens as purples had dulled to blues. An unknown weight was felt in your lower back as you felt something on your body. Nothing was on your legs or arms so you didn’t know where your new limb was. 

You were gonna ask what the hell they gave you before your hands started to tingle. Your wide eyes went to your hands, they had fur all over and contorted to be smaller and... cuter. They were paws. Oh shit. Finally you felt the same tingling sensation on each side above your lips, knowing that these were probably whiskers.

“THE FUCK” you exclaimed

Your group was all excited though, “Woah, it worked!” and “I haven’t seen that” was tossed around

Your eyes went to Shinsou’s, who was also as shocked as you were, “Did you know about this?” 

“No, what the hell happened to you?”

“She turned into a cat!” Ashido said excitedly

“The fuck did you give me?” you said in a normal volume not liking the loud sound

“It was a cookie that made you into a cat-person! It lasts 12 hours!” Sero explained

“12 hours? I’m screwed” you said

“Oh yeah and you should start acting like a cat soon too” Kaminari added

You exhaled exasperatedly and looked at them with tired but mad eyes, “Ugh let’s just eat our lunch before any of that happens” 

You walked inside and got a booth next to the window, you sat next to Shinsou a little closer than needed with a gap that separated you and Kaminari. Shinsou sat next to the window, the quietest option available, with Ashido in front of him, Sero, Kirishima and Bakugou next to her in that order. 

Your sense of smell had actually gotten stronger and you could sniff out the scent of Shinsou’s cologne, which is probably why you sat so close to him. He didn’t complain though, he was enjoying the lack of space between you two, deciding to not let the opportunity slide, he just let it happen. He loved being this close to you anyway, he liked seeing the twitch of your nose and the small smile that played on your lips. 

The moment was cut short by the waiter coming to take your order, Shinsou was too busy staring at you and you were too busy sniffing him (not in a weird way), so you had just fumbled and ordered the first item you saw on the menu. It was salmon sashimi, nothing you hadn’t tasted before so you wouldn’t have to worry about not liking it. Shinsou ordered the same thing, slightly panicked and unprepared.

You had turned to Shinsou, talking about the stupid things these guys do including turning you into a neko. He had, in turn, complimented the soft paws, admitting they were cure and pressing lightly on the soft pads that had triggered the claws and caused them to pop up. You did admit it was kinda cool, you could hear better and your senses were hightened. In exchange the color’s were a little weird and your pants had to be pushed down to let the tail out.

The light chatter continued until the food came and only then did you realize the problem. You tried to pick up your chopsticks but it took both of your paws to keep them from falling, and even so, you couldn’t manipulate it to pick up food. Everyone had noticed but no one wanted to help you, “Hey can someone help?” you asked, annoyed

Everyone just looked down at their food and at each other, making it known that they were ignoring you. You huffed, trying again to pick up the pair of chopsticks, but before one could fall from your paws Shinsou had gotten them from you, using their to bring a piece of salmon to you lips. You muttered a ‘thank you’ as someone finally decided to help and let him feed you, taking the piece into your mouth. 

He placed your chopsticks down using his own to eat his food. It wasn’t until you had asked him to feed you again did he comply, putting a piece to your mouth, not noticing how Ashido had snapped a picture of you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and your group were back on the train, it was almost empty except for the seven of you. The time spent on the outing had been cut short due to your angered demand to go back to the dorms. You sat next to Shinsou, the rest of the group across from you because you were mad at them. You had latched onto his arm all day out of instinct and you enjoyed it, tail going side to side, despite being infuriated with you other friends.

He kept touching your whiskers curiously, coming back to tickle them even as you swatted his hands away. Your nose twitched in annoyance as his fingertips came in contact with the sensitive whiskers again, you sighed, “Stop” you whined. 

“I thought you liked that,” he said, confused, “I’m tryng to cheer you up ‘cuz you’ve been grumpy”

“It tickles then it becomes itchy,” you explained, leaning your head on him and rubbing against it, both a comforting feeling and a slightly possessive one, as you felt the need to mark him with your scent

“Hmm,” he put a finger on hid chin, thinking of how to turn your upset mood around, “lie down”

You didn’t know why he would ask this off you, but still you complied. You lay your head on his lap, hyper aware of your friends’ eyes on you but paying no mind to it nonetheless. Shinsou held an obnoxiously long hoodie string over your head, you squinting for a second before getting the urge to disturb its still state.

You hit it with your paw making it swing. The momentum was too steady and slow for you so you hit it again, and again, and again, not letting it return to its resting form. Shinsou eyes you, pupils like thin slits as you glared at the string, toying with it adorably. The others watched bemusedly at your battle with the long hoodie string and this time, you couldn’t notice them at all.

It wasn’t until you heard Shinsou’s chuckle did your attention turn away from the dangling target. You looked at him, bewildered at your own actions. You then realized you were acting like a cat, your attitude and urges similar to theirs. You sat back up, glaring at the floor, “Damn, I am a cat now.” You looked back at your friends “How long did you say this lasts?”

“Twelve hours” Shinsou replied from beside you. 

You groaned, “Is there something else I can eat to reverse this?”

Ashido looked slightly guilty, she thought you would enjoy this more and to think she made you upset made her upset. “Why do you hate t anyway? It’s not thta bad. It’s actually pretty cute” she chirped, “other than the fact you’re more territorial now”

“Am not!” you snapped

“Yes you are! You won’t let anyone get near Shinsou!” Kaminari objected

“That is not true!” you said back

Ashido sauntered over to you and Shinsou “If it’s not then you wouldn’t mind if I claim this, would you” she tilted Shinsou’s head up and leaned in close

“What are you doing?” Shinsou whispered, a scowl on his face

You looked at them, mortified. Ashido noticed the change in your expression and her eyes widened. With her reflexes, she instantly moved back to doge your claws, barely, as you were able to slice of a few strands of hair. Your growling had effectively made her back off as you straddled Shinsou’s lap, closing your eyes with a slight frown and crashed your lips onto his. 

Ignoring his yelp as you pulled him closer, kissing him harder. He eventually wrapped his arms around you as you grinned at your new claim. Once you pulled away you buried your face in the crook of his neck, rubbing your scent glands around his, making a silent promise, ‘You’re mine’

Hitoshi Shinsou x Barista!Reader HCs

Summary: Headcannons about Shinsou seeing his crush working in his favorite cafe after school

Quirk: You can heat things up with your palm’s to 110 degrees Celsius. If it gets hotter than that your could burn yourself

Warnings/Genre: fluff, cursing, shitty first headcannons

WC: 374

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boy is shook to say the least

You were there, taking orders and giving customers cakes and coffees

He didn’t talk to you often because you were in the support course but he saw you enough to see how kind you were to others

Even animals

He saw you after school one time, petting a stray cat and feeding it

He melted

The next day he bumped into you and you were gushing about him, to him about how cool his quirk is

He became a blushing mess but thank god you weren’t able to see it because the bell rang and you rushed off

So you bet your ass when he saw you he went red

You looked so cute in the uniform

He never saw you because the only time he went here was weekends

But he decided to celebrate today because there wasn’t any homework 

When he went in he glanced at you but you didn’t see him

He saw you using your quirk to heat up some coffee and you gave it to a customer

He smirked as you weren’t even supposed to use your quirk unless you were a hero doing hero things

You looked around to make sire no one was watching 

Then your eyes met his

shit

You quickly gave the table their order when you walked to him

You asked him if he could just not tell anyone and even offered him a week’s worth of free coffee

He chuckled at your panicking

ohmygodyouwereadorable

He assured you he wouldn’i

IF

you went out with him sometime

oh shit now ur a tomato

how was he so smooth

lol you cant see but he lowkey embarassed if you rejected him

you said yes

ofc u did

he also asked for a kiss before you take his order

wtf sksksksksksk

you looked around to see if your boss was there

she wasn’t

you gave him a peck on the lips

he turned red cuz he didn’t know u would actually did it

he just asked for a coffee and you scurried off

you gave him his cup and said it was on the house

he scored a date with you and a free coffee?

best day ever

pov: y/n calling her bf to tell him that she got in trouble but knows she'll get in MORE trouble from him that she is in rn (but she has no one else to call so....) (if u don't like fem pronouns pretend that they're something else)

Shinsou x Fem!Reader in a band

Summary: Some of class 1A gets together to see Jiro perform with her band. Takes place in their early twenties.

Art from Pinterest!

Warnings: drinking, bar environment.

Song: SKIN by AMAI

“Shinsou’s here! Hey man!” Kirishima exclaims.

Some members of class 1A swarm around him, everyone greeting him differently. It had been awhile since the class had gotten together like this.Everyone was in their early twenties by now. Today they came together to see Jirou’s band perform. The venue could hold a little over 100 people. 

“We’re all so glad you could make it!” Ashido says. 

“I’m glad to be here. Excited to hear some good music.” Shinsou says in his usual cool demeanor.

“I heard Jirou’s band is good. They get booked for shows all the time.” Kaminari says.

“Yea, especially since they got a new singer. Jirou told me she sings like an angel and she fits in perfectly with the other girls in the band.” Momo says.

“I heard she looks as pretty as she sounds too.” Mineta butts in. 

Everyone from class 1A boos Mineta for his comment. 

“WHAT!? I was not the only person to think it!?” He protests. 

“But you were the only one to say it….” Sero interjects.

Shinsou shakes his head in disappointment. That was a typical Mineta comment. He thinks any girl with a pulse is hot. 

“I’m going to the bar. I’ll be right back.” He says to everyone. 

He makes his way over and sits on the last open stool next to you. He makes eye contact with you, causing you to smile at him. He looks down and notices you’re drinking hot tea…. out of a mug. 

He points at your mug and says, “They have tea here?”

“No, I brought this tea bag with me.” 

“Oh?” He says. 

“Did you want tea? I have extra in my purse and the bar has hot water.”  She offers. 

He was taken back by your response. Getting offered miscellaneous tea at the bar by a stranger was not on his bingo card tonight.

 “No, thank you, I appreciate the offer.….you must really like tea.” He observes. 

“Haha, I do! Alcohol dries my throat so I usually wait until after I sing to have it.” You reply. 

‘Sing? Is this the singer of the band? Hate to say this but Mineta was right, she’s gorgeous.’ Shinsou thinks to himself. You were wearing a black corset tank top with an army green pleated mini skirt and combat boots. You had a few dainty piercings on your face and ears that really caught Shinsou’s eye. 

“Do you sing in Jiro’s band?” He asks. 

“Yes! My name is L/N F/N.” You hold out your hand for him to grab. 

“I’m Shinsou Hitoshi. Nice to meet you.” He says as he shakes your hand, keeping eye contact with you. 

You couldn’t help but notice how much bigger his hands were than yours. They were rough and calloused but still had some softness to them. You two held each other's hands a bit longer than what was necessary. Once he let go, you both let out a small laugh. 

“How do you know Jirou?” You ask. 

“We went to U.A. together. Some of our classmates are here to support her.”

“Awe, that’s so sweet. Jirou talks about you guys so much. It’ll be nice to put faces to the names.” You smile softly at him. 

The bartender comes over and takes Shinsou’s order. He orders a beer and looks at you to see if you want anything. You shake your head ‘no’ and take a sip of your tea. The bartender comes back with the beer and sets it in front of him. 

“Can I buy you a drink after your set?” Shinsou says while bringing the glass bottle up to lips. 

You look at him with a smirk and say, “Yea, I’d like that.” 

“Good. I’m excited to hear you sing. Everyone’s been saying you sound like an angel.” 

“Yea, I get that a lot.” You get up from your barstool. Shinsou takes notice of your body. You rest your hand on his shoulder and bring your mouth to his ear to say “You can tell me what you think I sound like when you buy me that drink.” 

Shinsou nods his head with a sly smile on his face as you walk away. He looks at the time and realizes that the band is going on in the next 10 minutes. He walks back over to the rest of his classmates. 

“Who’s the cutie you were talking to at the bar, huh?” Ashido says to him while nudging his arm. 

“She’s the singer of Jirou’s band.” He answers nonchalantly. 

“SHE WAS AT THE BAR AND I DIDNT SEE HER!?” Mineta whines. 

“Shinsou, can you put him in horny jail?” Ashido says as she points to Mineta. 

“I’m on it.” He says. 

All of a sudden, Minetas eyes go blank. Shinsou had brainwashed him. 

“Go sit in the corner.” Shinsou demands. 

A mindless Mineta saunters over to the farthest corner in the bar and just stands there. 

“Thank you!! So what did you two talk about?” Ashido says. 

Ever since they went to U.A. together, Mina has always been in everyone’s business. She feels as if it’s her right to know. 

Shinsou lets out a scoff and says, “Wouldn't you like to know.”

“Yes, I would! That’s why I’m asking.” Mina pouts. 

“Hey guys! The show is about to start. Did we want to stand close to the stage?” Kirishima asks. 

Everyone agreed and made their way to the front. Kaminari and Shinsou catch up with each other as they wait for the band to come on. Once the audience starts to cheat their attention gets averted to stage. You and Jirou walk out holding hands with your other band mates.

“Hi sexies.” You say into the microphone that was set front and center.  The audience goes wild for you. You couldn’t help but to smile when they cheered. 

“So glad you all could join us tonight.” Jirou says into her microphone.

The members of the band exchange glances with each other. The bassist starts to play a bass line, the drummer shortly joins after. You start to sway your hips to the rhythm. 

“Skin you up, wear you out. Hold me close, I’m yours now. You can’t leave, You’re mine now.” 

Shinsou got goosebumps when the first note left your mouth. He felt as if he was in a trance. The song was heavy but also felt like a cold embrace. Not a single person in the audience dared to make noise as your band played. 

“I wanna be in your skin. Take me down to the deep ends. Two minds, one body and soul. I just want you to know.” You stared directly at Shinsou when you sang the chorus. Your intense stare gave hum butterflies. He couldn’t look away from you even if he tried. He knew you were singing for an audience but it felt like only you two were in the room. 

Once the guitar solo started, you got on your knees in front of Jirou. You whipped your hair in circles as she played in front of you. You lean all the way back, causing the back of your head to touch the stage. You belt out the ending words, “take me down.” 

“Holy shit.” Shinsou mutters as the audience begins to cheer. 

“Thank you. That song was called Skin.” You say into the microphone. 

You and the band perform 7 more songs, that’s including the encore the audience asked for. You loved performing with your band mates. It made you feel alive in the best way. 

“Ahhhh!! That was our best show yet!!” You say hugging Jirou as you two get off stage. 

“It really was!! We were so hot up there. I love our chemistry on stage.” She expresses.

You two dance a round for a second and give each other another hug. 

“Oh before I forget, I want to introduce you to my classmates! They should be waiting out back.” Jiro takes your hand and guides you through the backstage area. Once she opened the door, all her classmates began cheering for her. 

“Thank you guys! Your support means the world to me.” She said as she went to hug all her classmates. 

You and Shinsou lock eyes. There was something about his stare that gave you goosebumps. It made you question if he had a quirk that had to do with his eyes. He walks up to you and says, “I think I agree with everyone else. You do sound like an angel.”

“Oh yea? I’m glad you liked the show.” You say smirking at him.

Every time you spoke to him, it felt like it was just the two of you alone in a room. His voice had a way of getting in your head and being the only thing you heard. It made you feel as if every word he said to you was special and had a lot of meaning. What is up with this guy? 

“You still up for that drink?” He says as he gets closer to you.

“Mhm.” You respond, completely at a loss for words. 

I got this request so long ago!! I based the fic off of a song I’ve been listening to on repeat lately. She’s an independent artist and makes really cool music. Check her out here!

Let me know in the comments if we want a smutty part 2! Thanks for reading!

Do not steal or alter any of my writings ©️

Hello…. It’s me again…. 🥸

Please vote in this poll because I don’t know what to write next. I have been wanting to write about President Hawks so badly but I’m writing a Hawks OC FANFIC (link here) so all my hawks lore goes to that.

I’ve also been sitting on this shinou x reader in a band idea for a minute…..

Heavy on MHA right now…….

Guys who am I writing the next one shot about 😩 there are the characters I know pretty well

The two of you confessed at the same time accidentally during a training session

Y'all be smokin together sometimes but not that often

Cuddles are a must <3

The two of you adopt a few cats together and they are basically your children

 He can’t sleep in silence, there’s always some sort of noise in his room.

Watching him train with Aizawa is a daily occurrence.

It’s funny watchin Aizawa wrap him up in the capture weapon

He will give you silent treatment for like half an hour if you laugh tho

He’ll take the cats in your guys’ fake divorce

The Whisperer

Pairing: Villain!Shinsou x Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), mind control, violence, blood, murder, yandere behavior, umm a bit of dubcon I think because of the mind control (want to be safe)

Y’ALL PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.

Word Count: 2K

A/n: Alrighty roo, This was born from an idea that wouldn’t leave my head because the potential for Shinsou to be fed up with everybody sleeping on him is just GLORIOUS.  However, my mans loses his mind so this isn’t a romantic justice story aiight? It’s creepy.  Be aware it’s a bit dubious because the reader is being mind tricked so if that is something that will bother you please don’t read. 

Happy Halloween Everyone!

Special thanks to @linestrider​ for not only encouraging me to write it but ALSO beta reading it. I love you forever. 

tagging: @tomurasprincess  @pleasantanathema @dymphnasprose @elektraeriseros

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I just read the one with Dabi and Shigaraki getting seen by a villain and telling the reader to run and they get lost? Could I request that but with Bakugou, Shinsou and Todoroki? uwu thank you love your writing

He Tells You to Run During His Fight and You Get Lost (Yandere BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

Shigaraki and Dabi Version

A/N: Ajskdjd I don’t know if you actually sent this or if it just glitched but bro this request showed up in my inbox six times😂 I was just sitting there looking at it like wtffff. Anyways, I’m glad you liked the other one, and thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

Word count: 2197

Bakugou Katsuki: 

The entire street is blacked out. 

Of course, on the one night you actually are willing to go on a date with him, a villain attacks. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Bakugou hisses, letting his hand explode for the occasional light. 

A villain with electricity powers no less. With one flick of the guy’s hand, the whole street had turned to black, but not before he saw a nice fistful of explosion approach his face. 

Bakugou had told you to run before the fight, and now that the villain was gone, you were too.

“YN!” 

“YN COME BACK HERE!”

Yeah, sure, your relationship was a bit bumpy at first, especially considering the fact that he had taken you from your own home and forced you to live with him, but he firmly believed you two had worked out the kinks over the past two weeks. 

Evidently, that was false. 

“YN I SWEAR TO GOD!”

You left him. You really had. How dare you try to leave him. You truly were dumber than he thought, because he could find you in seconds. 

He wasn’t hurt that you had taken the opportunity to escape, but you would certainly feel his wrath once you were back where you belonged.

Rage swelled in his chest as he released another angered roar into the night. 

You, on the other hand, are terrified. Where the hell is Katsuki?

It was too dark for you to see anyone or anything. No cars were on the streets, no flashing signs. It was like you accidentally stepped into a ghost town. 

In the distance, you heard shouts and thunders. The villain? No, Katsuki could take him. 

Then you saw it. A large, towering figure that was charging for you at an alarming speed. Your blood ran cold at the sight of- Oh God, was that electricity?-- in his palm. 

It was too dark to tell, but you weren’t taking your chances. Cursing under your breath, you spun on your heels and ran. 

Meanwhile, Bakugou had finally found you. His palms fired up with light as he sprinted your way, barking a single “FUCK” when you began running. You really had tried to escape. That was not okay. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your eyes darted left and right, searching for an alleyway or anywhere else where you could hide and wait for the villain to pass. “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die.”

Finally, you found a familiar corner, one you and Bakugou had turned at only half an hour ago. You remember an alley being right after the first building. 

Following the path with burning legs, you took the sudden turn and dashed into the alley, crashing into the wall and slumping down behind the nearest dumpster. Oh God, oh God, oh God. 

You could hear the villain’s thunderous stomps, storming right towards your dead end before they passed it completely, allowing you to release a relieved sigh. It was only when the footsteps suddenly returned that you panicked, heart practically jumping out of your chest. 

“YN!” a familiar voice barked, rage so undisguised you almost choked on it. 

“Katsuki?!” You asked in surprise, supporting yourself against the brick wall as you rose with burning calves. His crimson gaze pierced right through you. “Katsuki,” you smiled, “you’re alive!” 

Bakugou sneered at that. Psh yeah, like that lame ass villain could kill him. But that wasn’t the problem. “You bitc-”

Whatever he was going to say, you cut it off with a suffocating grip around his midsection. “Oh, thank God you found me. I thought I was being chased by that guy!” 

Your hold is so tight he can’t breath, and it’s only when his lungs start to burn that he reluctantly taps out. “Okay, okay,” he pats your shoulder, “unclench, will ya?”

His anger from earlier has almost deflated completely; your touchy-feely-ness with him kind of had that effect. “Let’s just go home.” 

Part of him was still struggling to accept that you hadn’t tried to leave him, but it faded away when you gave him that blinding smile and adorable little nod. “You sure you don’t wanna finish that date?”

Oh God, how could he ever doubt your love when you asked him that?

Shinsou Hitoshi: 

Shinsou would be damned if he let you go.

You were the light of his life. The beam at the end of the tunnel. You were his perfect match. You couldn’t leave him.

He’d promised you that he would never use his quirk on you back when you first got together, but tonight he’s afraid he’ll have to break that promise. 

A villain attacked, one who had stayed mute for the first five minutes of the fight. Right in the beginning, Shinsou knew he couldn’t have you stick around. 

“Let me help!”

“No, YN! Just go! Run!” You watched him for a couple more seconds with wide eyes before nodding and booking it down the streets, never looking back. 

Maybe you had thought it would be the last time you would ever see him. Maybe you were thankful for that fact. 

Either way, you were sorely mistaken. 

The villain finally cracked when Shinsou trapped him in a headlock, squeezing and squeezing until the guy finally wheezed out a “please.”

Then the purple-haired hero told him to dive off the nearest bridge into the river below, and he listened dutifully. 

“YN?” Shinsou called out now, slowly making his way down the street. The more time passed, the more silence heard, the faster he upped his pace. 

The distance from you was almost painful. God, how he just wanted to feel you again. Hear you again. 

“YN, please come here!” Shinsou was jogging now, lavender eyes foraging every inch of the wide open street he was on. 

He was desperate now. Never had he felt so helpless and needy, but God how he needed you in his life. 

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he had a future to look forward to-- with you. He wasn’t going to let that slip out of his grasp, even if you didn’t feel the same. 

In time, and with enough coaching, you would be perfectly happy with him.

“YN, please tell me where you are!”

Blood rushing in his ears, he began to increase his speed to a sprint, head whipping back and forth across every alley and street until he caught a glimpse of- there!

“YN!” 

Your familiar head of hair perked up at the name and you rose from your hiding spot behind a trash can. Your eyes were glistening and red, veins popping out beside the irises. 

“Hitoshi!” you wailed, locking gazes with him and quickly closing the distance between the two of you. A sigh of relief fell from your lips as soon as your arms wound around his neck. 

“God, I’m so glad you’re okay,” you mumble against his neck. He could feel the wetness of your tears, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it. 

“Me too.” he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you just as tightly. He keeps his gaze locked on the wall behind your head while he contemplates his next move. “I thought you tried to-... I thought you were going to leave me for good.”

You snort bitterly into his neck. “Why would I ever leave you, Hitoshi? I love you.”

What if you were lying? What if you were lying to him right now? He could always ask…

But no, you said you loved him! And he promised you that he would never use his quirk on you. 

But surely it wouldn’t hurt to hear your honest answer, no?

“YN?”

“Yeah?” 

Your grip on him went slack as he felt your head drop completely against his shoulder. No doubt your eyes were glazed over right now, so beautifully vulnerable and yearning for his command. 

“Tell me the truth, darling. Were you trying to escape from me?”

“No, Hitoshi,” you mumble blankly into his skin. “I’ve fallen in love with you. I no longer feel the need to escape.” 

Breathless, Shinsou allows a grin to grow on his face as he dips his hand into your hair, petting it softly. “Good girl, YN. You’re so good to me now. So honest.”

You nod stiffly and Shinsou clicks his tongue. 

In an instant, your grip regains its previous gusto as you rub your cheek against his collarbone. “Can we go home now, ‘Toshi?”

Your mind was so trusting, so vulnerable, so pliable like puddy in Shinsou’s hands. Sure, he slipped up on his promise, but with your unconditional love, he was sure you would let it go in no time. 

“Of course, love.”

Todoroki Shouto: 

You were finally falling for him. Last night, like every night before, he laid a kiss on your lips as he returned home, only this time you responded. 

There was only one way to describe his feelings: he was addicted. To your love, to your touch, to you. 

It’d been so long since someone held him like you did, with that glimmer of adoration in your eyes. He had finally broken down your walls like you had done for him so long ago. 

He wanted to take you on a date tonight as a thank you. A gesture of gratefulness for reciprocating his love. 

But then that piece of shit attacked. 

Todoroki had no other option; he had to tell you to run. 

“YN please! Before he hurts you!” 

Fear was evident in your eyes, so getting you to flee was easy. 

And now that the villain was burned into oblivion, the hard part he dreaded had finally come: searching for you.

Within the ten-block radius he covered, you were nowhere to be found. Every divot, every ravine, every goddamn crack on the sidewalk, he searched for you. Hours passed, but he didn’t know how many. All he knew was that he couldn’t find you.

Of course, he should have expected this. 

You actually left him. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t see it coming. That kiss, no matter how much passion you had put into it, was obviously a lie. You were playing innocent, toying with his feelings just so you could really stick it to him in the end. 

He should’ve known. He knew, since he was a child, that he was an unloveable monster. He had been hanging onto you like his last thread of hope that he could be redeemed.

But now that you were gone, there was no way it wasn’t true. You didn’t deserve a freak like him, with a face not even a mother could love. 

Head hanging, Todoroki made his way home. His shoulders slouched forward as he dragged his feet along the sidewalk. Deep inside his chest, there was an ache. A longing for you, disguised as a physical pain. 

“Shouto.” 

The memory of your voice plagued his mind.

“Shouto!”

Growing louder and more insistent. No, of course he didn't want to forget you, but he had to.

“SHOUTO!” Tingles light up the flesh of where someone grabs his hand, and without hesitation, he spins and tackles them in a hug. 

“YN, please tell me this is real.”

Your cute little snort of disbelief makes his heart stutter. “Nah, this is all just a dream.”

“Don’t say that,” he grumbles into your neck. “You were gone for so long. I thought you left me.”

“‘Left you’? Seriously, Shouto? Is that why you were moping along when I finally found you?!”

“Yes. I thought you hated me for what I did to you, and escaped when the opportunity arose.” 

You tensed against him at his words. He hears you swallow. “I’m not gonna lie. The thought did cross my mind.” 

A nasty feeling crawls up his throat. “But then I realized I couldn’t.” 

“Really?” 

“Y-yes. Shouto… I realized I didn’t want to leave you. Because I-”

Here it was.

“-love you.” 

So it wasn’t a game after all. You weren’t pretending. That kiss had been real, you had meant it. A tear slipped down his cheek at the thought. He wasn’t a monster.

“I love you too, YN.” And you were never leaving the house after this. 

What a tease you were to toy with his feelings. Leave him for so long only to come back and drag him in again. For so long, you knew you felt this way, and only now, after he had searched for you for hours while you let him suffer those thoughts, you decided to confess your emotions. 

Todoroki’s love for you wasn’t a joke. And maybe, now that you seemed to understand you were his, he could finally teach you that lesson physically.

A matching mark of your own would do just the trick.

scenario where shinsou and reader (fem) were having "fun" then they got caught by aizawa 🤭 [u dont have to write this lol!!] - v

Authors Note: Hello V!! Omg, thank you for using a sign off your the first person to do that I really hope I see you regularly! Oh! And please feel free to use emoji sign off if you’d like too, ＼(≧▽≦)／

OFC I’D WRITE THIS FOR YOU! I made it into more of a short fic bc like you said its like a scenario but hope you like it my friend! Also thank you for requesting Shinso, I LOVE Bakugo but I felt kinda bad for him being the only one in my MHA/BNHA masterlist

|♡| Red Handed |♡|

Shinso Hitoshi x F!Reader

Description: After a very tiresome meeting with Aizawa, your pro hero boyfriend decided you were the perfect candidate to let off some steam. Not only was he enjoying himself, but he was also getting some much needed revenge by fucking over his mentor’s desk. Too bad Aizawa decided to enter his office at the wrong time. 

Rating: Smut

Disclaimer: Spanking, Light Choking, Exhibitionism,  Degration + Praise, Dirty Talk, Vaginal Sex, Getting Caught Doin The Nasty, Angry Sex

Word Count: 1222

 Links:  Masterlist,  Ask Me Anything, Tag List

“Fucking slut,” Shinso growled out, his thrusts slapping hard against your ass with every syllable. He was pissed, since becoming a pro hero Aizawa had managed to be up his ass about every mistake for the past month, and it seemed today was the last straw for your boyfriend. 

This is what caused your current position, bent over his boss's desk, clothes haphazardly pulled down just enough so he had access to your aching cunt.  You whimpered, pushing your ass to meet his leaking cockhead halfway, scratching at the dark oak desk from the ecstasy Shinso provoked. 

"Toshi!" You cried when he hit a sensitive spot on your spongey walls, your pussy fluttering around him in a way that made his hips stutter before quickly working back into his rough pace. 

Shinso's hands moved from his place on your back to trail up your sides, making sure to give your breasts a sharp squeeze,  before placing two of his fingers on your pouty red lips. "Open," he commanded, a slight pant in his voice.

You whined once more but decided to obey since he already wasn't in the best of moods. You parted your lips, making sure to swipe your tongue along his fingers as two of his pale appendages into your mouth. 

"Suck 'em, you know what I like," your boyfriend used his other hand to slap your ass, creating another red mark on top of the many finger-print-sized bruises you adorned. Quickly you got to work, swirling your tongue and moaning around his digits. 

"Damn, had to shut you up with my fingers so we don't get caught," he laughed mockingly, although he himself was in no better shape than you. His usually flared-out purple hair was now starting to droop, sweat beading at his forehead as he stared at you with half-lidded eyes and the most adorable scrunch to his eyebrows as he focused on pushing himself as deep as possible in you. Fuck, why did he have to be so pretty?

You couldn't take it anymore, the way his dick stretched you out so deliciously, the way he moaned and grunted, the way he had a tight grip on your ass and tongue. "Toshi, Hitowshi bwaby, so gwood," you moaned, voice muffled by his fingers which were now stroking your tongue, thumb rubbing your cheek from the outside. 

Shinso pulls out of your warm heat till only the tip was left, laughing at the way you cried out. You attempted to rub yourself on him, searching for any type of friction but Shinso was quick to push on your back, your breasts smashing against some very important documents Aizawa had. 

"Look at you wiggle," he teased, watching at your cute little hole squeezed around nothing. "So fucking dirty, crying for my cock on my boss's desk," he paused to moan when you squeezed your cunt around his sensitive cockhead. His hand reached down to spread your lips, watching as he slammed his full length into you. 

"Hitoshi!" You screamed, voice not coming clear since his hand abandoned your drooling mouth and moved to grip on your neck. He squeezed gently, providing a delicious pressure on your throat as he fucked you silly, thrusts so hard they caused ripples on your ass. 

"Mmph, baby fuck! So fucking cute, do whatever I ask huh?" Shinso asked, spanking you once more. Your eyes closed as you let your tongue hand out of your mouth, completely drunk off the feeling your boyfriend provided you. 

"Yeah, that's it, think you deserve a little reward," his hand reached down to rub your clit, messaging small circles in a way that had your toes curling. "Go ahead and cum baby, cum all over his desk. 

There was just something so overwhelmingly hot about fucking on Aizawa's desk, the risk of being caught, the anger behind your boyfriend's movements, how Shinso mixed his degrading with sweet praises, so filthy to the point you couldn't keep quiet anymore despite your weak attempts. Shinso just felt too good, his long fingers lingering on your neck, your ass burning from his heavy hands, him toying with your clit, and of course, his large cock rubbing your sensitive walls in a way only he could.  Within seconds the combination of these aspects had you creaming around Shinso's dick. 

"C-Cumming! 'm cumming, Hitoshi please!" You begged, legs shaking from the intense feeling, surely you would have fallen if it wasn't for the desk beneath you. Your hands reached out to claw at whatever you could, knocking down some items in the process. "Toshi, please cum, wanna feel you so bad." Drool dribbles down your cheek you lean your head down onto the cool surface beneath you, withering in this intense feeling. 

"Fuck, fuck! Why do you have to be so fucking tight—fuck hahh!" Shinso had let go of his grip on your neck and clit, leaving red marks from where his hands had previously been, and used both his hands to grab your waist, pulling you to meet his heavy thrusts.

By now your pussy was sopping wet, a thick creamy ring forming around the base of hm and dripping to his balls. Your pussy fluttered around him, squeezing him tightly almost making it hard to pull out. You always milked him so fucking good. 

"Shit, why do you have to be like this? My perfect slut."

Shinso panted when he finally pumped one final time, reveling in the wet slapping sound that came from it before emptying his balls in your cavern. Even while he was cumming his thrusts never stopped, although now softer and more sparatic. In the end, you two were a mess, Shinso leaving over your body basking in the afterglow. 

It felt so nice, feeling his cum slosh around inside you, his hands petting your head and allowing you to catch your breath. While Shinso could be rough he never failed to treat you like a princess after, you knew when you got home you would be showered in praises, kisses, and massages. 

"You okay honey?" He rasped, humping you against the desk. Your cunt couldn't help but flutter around him despite being exhausted. You turned your head to meet his tired eyes, watching as his once angry face from earlier melted into a pretty smile. 

"'m okay, but what about you baby? You feel better from earlier?" He chuckled at your response, always so attentive was his girlfriend. With a grin plastered on his lips, he placed gentle kisses on your back, his thurst finally halting as he pulled his head back to watch his cum leak out of you and back onto his cock. 

"I'm fucking fantastic."

The intimate moment was halted by loud commotion coming from outside the office, angry stomps trailing down the hallway to the front of the door. 

"They fucking did it again! I swear to god these kids will kill me, they destroyed so much fucking property! In fucking ruins!" The voice of Aizawa growled out, most likely screaming at his assistant before slamming his office door open. 

Shinso was fast to react, quickly pulling out of your warm heat with a hiss before scrambling to pull his pants up and using his body to hide your naked body from the very angry pro hero. 

"Oh my fucking god!" If Shinso thought Aizawa was annoying before, he was in for a real treat. 

Authors Note: OKAY OKAY YOU CAN IMAGINE THE REST! I think Shinso would attempt to use his quirk to make Aizawa forget this whole fiasco but idk if he’s quick enough (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄) Also sorry this is shorter than usual! But I hope you enjoyed anyways <33 Please leave a comment, lemme know what you think! Don’t forget to check out my other works, and requests are currently open!! BYE BYE (ノ*°▽°*)

Links: Masterlist,  Ask Me Anything, Tag List 

Tag List: @katscki​, @libidinous-weeb

i get that i havent written in a lot but pls make requests😢😢