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#midoriya being insecure
maroonswan · 1 year
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Imagine pampering pro hero!Izuku Midoriya after he rushes in the door late for date night, covered in a thick layer of the day's sweat and grime. A fresh bouquet of flowers clutched gingerly in his scarred hands as he apologizes for being such a mess.
He immediately lauches into a tangent of an explanation, rambling about how he had wanted to get back home as soon as possible but had still wanted to get you something special. That he had neglected washing up at the agency in order to run by the flower shop before it closed, and that despite the late hour he still fully indended to take you out tonight (after grabbing a quick shower).
"There're still a few bars open." He continues. "We could grab your favorite cocktails. We could dance. And, maybe after that we could get some fast food or I can cook you dinner! I'm sorry, [Y/N]. I know it's not exactly what you were hoping for, but I promise I'll make it up to-"
You cut off him before he could finish, pulling him in to a tight hug; your face burried deep in his soiled chest, muffling your laughter as he freezes in his tracks.
Midoriya can't help it. With you, his worries seem small. He takes a deep breath relishing your sweet clean scent as a smile comes to his lips.
"It's okay, it's okay. I'm just glad your home, Izu." You sigh. "Besides, I had other plans on how I want to spend the night."
"You do?" He asks, genuinely curious, feeling your self-satisfied hum rolling through his chest. Such a coy non-answer. He knows you're up to something but decides to play along. He's kind of tired of asking questions anyway.
"Whatever you want, lovley" your boyfreind agrees whole heartedly, kissing your forehead and making you giggle with excitement. You always appreciated Midoriya's trust and intend to show him so tonight.
Without another word, you gently take Izuku's hand in yours and lead him to your shared bedroom.
Thinking about giving Midoriya a handjob after a hot bath and a full body massage. The epsom salts having worked wonders on his sore muscles; the remaining knots having melted away under your touch. Yet, he knew he was done for the second you drop your rode to reveal you were wearing nothing underneath. His cock immediately swelling with blood as you crawled your way on top of him, straddling him, your ass pressing into the corded muscles of his thighs.
Izuku is still covered in oil, glistening in the golden glow of the candle light. His stares at you mesmerized as you watch him with an equal sence of wonder, near hypnotized by the nervous rise and fall of his shining abdomen and chest.
He's so wonderfully gorgeous, like an angel or a demi-god.
How could you not serve his every need?
Izuku breath catches you gently grasp your hand around him. It's warm and so soft, so smooth. He can't bring himself to protest as your start stroke him just way he likes it, your grip light but sqeezing tighter the closer you get to the tip; fingers running lusciously across the vein on the underside; the tugging of his lubed cock making such lude fapping noises.
Izuku squeezes his eyes shut as he moans openly, slutilly. He feels like he's melting in your hands even as all the muscles in his body tightened up again; your other hand massaging his balls as you continued to pump.
He knows he isn't going to last long. Not when it feels this good, when you've been so thoughtful, when everytime he reopens his eyes he's greeted again by your perfect body and jiggling tits.
You're spoiling him, and he's helpless to stop you.
"Fuck," he slurs. Better words having formed on the edge of his lips but never having fully come through.
He cums so quick in your hands, and it's alot. Warm and shooting out of him in seemingly endless ropes with each replenishing pump.
Izuku's not at all ashamed. If anything, he feels relaxed. His muscles are completely slack, and if it wasn't for his many scars he would have had a hard time beleiving he ever was hurt before.
He turns to you as you curl up beside him. His gaze soft and full of love.
"Thank you, baby."
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delawaredetroit · 4 months
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So here's another example of how low Izuku's self worth is. While Izuku has had setbacks (mostly injuries to himself), this fight against Shouto is Izuku's first real loss since All Might became his mentor. And Izuku immediately thinks All Might wants to replace him.
All Might using Shouto as a reference point for how One for All would work for someone with another quirk only solidifies to Izuku that he might want Shouto as a replacement. He has the backstory and the power of a main character after all. (It's obviously unintentional on All Might's part. That man couldn't read the room to save his life.)
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megumishotgf · 6 months
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more jjk + mha fic recs !! ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ
in my unemployed era so i have hours to scroll on this damn app... here are more fics that i loved!! featuring: megumi, satoru, nanami, toji, yuuji, yuuta, katsuki, izuku, shouto (whew there's a lot of them today. your girl has been READING) credits to all these talented writers!! pls check them out!! masterlist more fic recs pt. i pt. iii
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: ̗̀➛ megumi fushiguro x reader
you and gumi bond over books (he reads a book you're interested in just so you have someone to discuss it with. bawling)
multiple-part enemies to lovers smau!! (this is SO FUNNY. i cried from laughter more than once)
more enemies to lovers (lengthier fic, so so good + smutty)
you give megumi valentines day chocolates (so so cute he just loves u so much)
secret relationship trope + poor yuuji walks in on you making out (poor baby is traumatised)
more secret relationship + getting caught (i love this one so much)
your silly tired bf just wants kisses
it's late, you're wandering in your ducky slippers and see megumi patching himself up
megumi falls in love with milf! reader (omfg... i love this sm. i've never considered being a cougar until now)
friends to lovers with megumi (high school a.u + gumi buys reader sanrio)
thinking about megumi's hands (i js know they are pretty. thinking of all the unspeakable things they can do)
comforting insecure megumi (my poor baby. a lil angst but dw there's a happy ending)
: ̗̀➛ kento nanami x reader
kento comes home early (so cute and precious. im crying i need him to be real so bad)
he gets hurt bad and you can't stop crying (angsty but also fluffy don't worry this doesn't end like shibuya)
: ̗̀➛ toji fushiguro x reader
riding toji until he whimpers omfg (he gets embarrassed and teaches you a lesson ahhh)
your fiancee toji finally gets freed from prison (they finally freed my man anyway you suck him off while he drives omfg)
sex as payback for your noisy ass neighbours (im losing it)
really cute dating headcanons
more on toji being a simp for you (HES SOOO)
: ̗̀➛ satoru gojo x reader
"my girl is mad at me i hope i die" that's it
y/n + satoru being stupidly in love (now this one has a kick to it.i'm crying)
satoru is obsessed with you but you're oblivious (pining satoru)
boyfriend texts w/ satoru
fucking satoru in the prison realm (AHHHH)
satoru begs to fuck you at some high profile event (u js look so cunty in that outfit and it drives him crazy)
car sex with satoru AHHH
satoru lets u try on his blindfold (hes such so :( so so adorable)
you get hurt and satoru is worried (wow this is so well written. happy ending + gojo centric)
: ̗̀➛ yuuji itadori x reader
fucking ur friend yuuji in a club bathroom (this is so so good)
"if we had a baby would it be mine or sukuna's" (this is hilarious)
yuuji comforts his gf who's not his 'usual type' (its me im the short gf with a big chest) (i’ve been coming back to reread this daily)
: ̗̀➛ yuuta okkotsu x reader
blowing ur big dick bf yuuta (canon)
really really romantic sex w/ yuuta (straight up making love)
: ̗̀➛ katsuki bakugo x reader
domestic headcanons (i love them and i love him. help)
more cute relationship headcanons
katsuki is obsessed with gossiping and eavesdropping when you and your friends spill the tea (this is so funny i love it sm)
dragging katsuki to the club bathroom because u love him (this is so wholesome im crying)
kiri notices how whipped katsuki is for you
guard dog katsuki is jealous
: ̗̀➛ izuku midoriya x reader
mating press with izuku (this actually drives me crazy. written so well and in character)
izuku is just so fucking precious (i can't take it anymore)
: ̗̀➛ shouto todoroki x reader
shouto gets halved by a quirk but not like gojo, there's js two of him (there is one obvious thing to do now)
dr. todoroki promises to breed you properly (i'm convulsing)
you're insecure after giving birth and shouto comforts you (with loving words and his dick)
resolving an argument w/ ur bf shouto (so cute!!)
eating u out in the kitchen (omfg)
there is an overwhelming amount of smut i'm sorry this is kind of embarrassing i'm just super horny lmao
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lady-ashfade · 6 months
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Mha Men Reactions To You Thinking That Asking You Out Is A Joke.
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—£ X Gn Reader
—£ Plot: Reader has been bullied and thinks that this is just another prank, they have been asked out before as a joke.
—£ Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Eijiro Kirishima, Tamaki Amajiki
—£ Warning: Angst To Comfort, Reader Being Insecure, Reader being bullied, Reader Making The Boys Feel Bad, Crying, Bad Language, Fighting, Happy Ending.
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Izuku
-He was so confused at first, then in disbelief and angry.
Izuku had worked himself up for mouths to finally ask you out. He’s been hinting at how he feels for you but you never seem to notice. All he could do each day was think about you, how he wanted to hold you in his arms and kiss you. He wanted to show you the world and all it could be.
So, he waited till you both got off of patrol and chased after you.
Hearing your name you turn around to see the green haired man running after you like a crazy man, flying so fast with a red tint on his face. Then to stop and huff in front of you, he laughed nervously.
“Deku? You okay…” you question and tilt your head. He couldn’t get enough of how cute you looked.
“Hmm, just want to tell you something.” He smiled and said it like a known fact. You wait for him to say something while you stand still, just waiting….Until he was just staring at you in silence.
You wave your hands in front of his face and he turned the shade of a tomato for a minute while jumping out of his skin. You were confused, he was acting strange? He hasn’t been this nervous in a while.
“Okay- Well” he takes a deep breath and then pours his heart out in a shout, “I like you- A lot. I have since you first showed me your quirk and flashed that smile. So, I want to ask you out on a date?”
Izuku came up with many scenarios of what could happen when he confessed. Like you laughing at him, rejecting him easily or harshly, even if you hit him! He planned for everything…
Expect to see you glare harshly at him, one that sent a chill down his spin. Your body tensed and your hands gripped on your bag.
“Real fuckin’ funny, deku. What? Did Bakugo set you up to this?” You spit at him. “Never thought you’d be the person to do this, is this for a prank show?” Your chest lets out a deep and angry chuckle.
He stared at you with his face drained and eyes staring wide. Was this his imagination? What are you even talking about. Did he say something wrong, he’s never seen you like this before. Cold and mean.
“Nothing to say?” You click your tongue and huff. “This isn’t a funny joke! It’s-” he watches you tear up and push a finger in his chest, “It’s cruel.”
“What the hell are you taking about?” He has no idea how much your words affect him. His chest was filling up with anger and his brows frown.
“Don’t act like you actually like me! You aren’t the first person to ask me out on a date as a prank! Or hell, even a bet!” You cross your arms and flare your nostrils.
Oh..
His eyes soften and swallow at your now trembling figure, looking so small now and shaking. Like he was a villain to make you feel worthless.
“You think I’m joking?” His hushed tone made you blink away some of the tears and whip them off quickly, nodding your head you bite your lip.
“You can tell whoever that you got me! Get your points or win, I don’t care.” You fix yourself and looked at the ground. You move backwards and turn around to walk away from him.
Izuku watched for a few seconds until he knew he couldn’t have you thinking this was for anyone else but himself. Grabbing your arm he turned you around and into his chest, coming face to face with his.
He had his serious and frustrated face, when he gets passionate. “I want you, I need you in my life. I don’t know who before made you feel like you were just a joke, but they don’t deserve anything. I want a date, a real one with fancy clothes and food.”
Your wide eyes stare in his, looking surprised. Your bodies were so close and he held you so tightly, his body was warm. “Just you and me.” He’s eyes flashed panicked as he looked between your eyes.
He heard your breath hitch and how hesitant you were to trust him. He wanted to know the battle you fought inside your head inside and out, so he could defeat them for you.
“Promise?” That small sparkle of hope made him smile.
“Promise.”
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Katsuki
- He’s pissed off, man has no clue what the hell you are talking about. And how you could think he’d do something so stupid?
We all know Katsuki never half asses anything, like anything. If he didn’t want you around you simply wouldn’t. So when Katsuki knew for sure he was ready to be in a relationship, he wasn’t going to let it be half asses. You were going to be his, he would give you everything.
So, he asked you plain out. Invite you out to a restaurant and to walk around your favorite part of the city. He enjoyed how talkative you got when you were happy, so this would be just right for you.
Then you flat out yelled and him.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Being so confused his loud voice rang through the empty park.
You roll your eyes, “You don’t think I know when a trick is played on me?” You ask with a pointed glare. “Look, you aren’t the first.”
Trick? You think he’s joke about this shit?
“Huh?! You think I’d take the time out of my day, but your ass food and do your favorite thing- Just to prank you?” He shouted.
“Don’t flip this on me! I know this is just a joke, ask out the “weird” person right? They must be so easy? Is that it? Want to seem so much better then everyone.”
Then he was completely enraged. He couldn’t help the blood pumping through his body as he gripped his fists.
“How fuckin’ dare you.” He stepped closer. “You think that low of me?” You matched his glare and stood your ground.
“I didn’t think you were the person to do it. But here you are.”
“Oh?” His tone growled out and tilted his head. His dark smirk sent chills down your spine. “And who are you to tell me what I feel like?”
You felt your self becoming sick and you tried not to let it get to you. But this wasn’t how you thought your relationship would go, him turning out like everyone else.
“I know that everyone always likes to pull this shit on me! Ask me out, not show or laugh in my face! Who set you up to this Huh?”
Clicking his tongue he turned away from you, “You’re so stupid.”
“No. I am just know when I am being tricked.” He looked back at you with a daring smile.
“Oh yeah?” He laughed and crosses his arms like this was so funny. Making you break.
“This isn’t a joke! And it’s not funny.” You stomp your foot and started to get so overwhelmed and tear up. How could he be so cruel? Why does everyone do this.
He yanked your hands and pushed you to the nearest bench, you protested and squirmed but he was stronger then you. “Sit still!” He demanded as his hands pressed down on your shoulders.
You sink down and just do as he says to make this situation go faster. “You listen, got it?” He stared at you seriously. You take a minute and nod your head, his sigh made you sink farther down.
“This wasn’t a joke. I first noticed how beautiful you were when you feel asleep on my shoulder after training. I like when your cheeks puff out when you eat, or that crinkle in your nose. I like how you look around if anyone notices when you fail in training. I like it when you call me “Suki” and how it makes me feel.” His cheeks heated up at admitting theses things but it was all true.
“I wouldn’t ask you out as a joke, and you thinking that is fucked up. I don’t deal with stupid people. Tell me,” he pulled out his phone and clicked around a few and then shoved the bright screen in your face. A picture of you asleep on his shoulder with drool on his shoulder and him looking so calm. “Would I let anyone do that? No, only you.”
You could feel your heart beat up and lungs losing air. Your head ran with thoughts as you looked at him. He was serious? And you just said all those horrible things to him.
“You mean- You actually like me?” Your voice and question made him laugh and shove his phone back in his pocket.
“Maybe I do hang out with stupid people.” Okay, you deserve that honestly.
You take a breath and cover your face. “Shit.” You groan and lean back without looking at him. How could you look at him again, maybe you just wouldn’t for the rest of your life.
“M’sorry.” The word muffled in your hands and he looked down at you. He loves how embarrassed you looked, hiding your face from him. But he didn’t want you to overthink anything.
His hands wrap around your wrist and pull them away from your face. You didn’t look at him at all still but he just leaned down closer, “Look at me.” His demand was soft and quiet, so unlike him. When he found your eyes again he felt himself at ease.
“I’ll bellow up those fuckers that pulled that shit on you. I don’t have time to play games. So, go on a date with me and have a good time.” There was that voice again. His loud voice to cover his emotions.
“If you’ll have me.” Your eyes looked so soft and sad. Like he would still rejected you.
“Be waiting for you. And i wouldn’t want anyone else.”
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Kirishima
- Completely taken aback. He was frozen and confused, then sad and angry. His heart was broken.
Kirishima was a man, and a good man. He kicked himself for months because he wanted to ask you out but didn’t want to ruin anything. You were just so sweet and beautiful, his heart flattered when he saw you smile.
Of course he wanted to ask you out! So, he worked up himself like izuku and made sure to be on top of his game. He would style his hair, clean up after a long day and check himself out in the mirror. He had to look best for you, like a man!
He waited until you got done with your work and headed home to ask you for a date. He was waiting for you by the door with a huge but nervous smile. His chest was filling up with butterflies,
“Y/n! Over here.” He waves you down. You looked at him and smile as you march towards him. Your regular clothes looking amazing on you, he could tell the day was rough for you but you still looked as beautiful as aways.
“Hello, good work today kiri!” Your praise made him blush harder and scratch his neck. His ego growing. “Need to teach me some of your moves.”
Okay, he needs to cool himself down. You are just too cute and pretty, he finally had you alone and ready to ask you out.
“Actually, um.” He looked at you with a wide mouth before clearing his throat. “I was going to get some food, maybe I can tell you there?”
You thought about it for a minute. You have gotten food before with him so it’s not weird. So you nod. “Sure!”
“Actually, I had something else planned.” You watch him blink, he watches you tilt your head. “I wanted to ask out on a date. Right now, to any restaurant you want of course.”
Your body tenses and hand comes to clinch your chest, looking around for the hidden camera. His smile seemed real but you knew the truth, this was a cruel prank.
“Not funny kiri.” Your voice sounded different as you got angry. You turn your head and cross your arms, “Think this is funny? What kind of a friend are you!” You shout making him sink back.
He was now frozen with his face white and smile gone. He stared at you confused and unknowing what to say.
“I’m sorry..But, what are you talking about?” You only huff at his words and puff your cheeks and chest out.
“Don’t play dumb! I know what this is,” you turn around and look for someone, “He got me! Really funny.”
Kiri stepped closer and looked to where you looked, “Y/n, it’s just you and me here.”
“Oh, so you just wanted to see for yourself what i would do? Because asking me out is so fucking funny. Well,” you hit his chest. “It’s not!”
Your words and hands feel like knives. You have never seemed so loud and broken before or yelled at him before. He wanted to tear up with you.
“I don’t think it’s funny, what are you talking about?” His hands covered the yours that rested on his chest. “Did I say something wrong?”
You tear up fully and start to cry, “I know kiri, no use of hiding it. I know this is just some stupid prank to get me to feel bad about myself and you won! Just like all the others.” You try to pull away from him but his body moves on its own and keeps you from moving.
His blood starts to rise and his teeth start to show. You think this is a prank, that he was just doing this to make you cry? And what others? Oh, this was making him pissed.
“Who did it? I’ll talk to them, that’s so unmanly! Hurting someone like that?” He leans down to you, “Let alone you…that’s the most cruel thing I have heard.”
You blink up at him, your arms struggling to pull back come to a stop. “What do you mean? You did it to.” Your voice broke and didn’t sound as angry but disappointed.
“I would never. I’m not joking y/n, I want to take you out on a date. Even more now to show you that you can be loved, like I do! Please give me a chance, you are the only person I think about!” He backs away from you and bows his head to plead.
“Let me take you out on this one date and if you don’t like it, then I can deal with it! A man has to step up. I wanna go out with you so bad!”
You stare down at him in shock at his outburst as he begs you…no one has done that before. Kiri didn’t seem like the type of guy to ever joke about this..But why would he want you?
Sighing you look away, heat coming to your cheeks. He asked you out and you just made a scene. “You mean it?”
His head shot like a dog and nodded his head quickly, “It will be the best date you ever had! I’ll even buy you dessert.” He poked out his chest with pride and now a smile to convince you.
“Fine! But if you think-” your eyes wide and throat close up as he smashes his lips onto yours. You feel yourself growing weak and unable to move.
He pulls away quickly with a blush at his cheeks, “I am serious, did that prove something?”
“P-Point proven.” He smirks at his victory and takes you by the hand to show you a wonderful night.
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Tamaki
-He’s so stressed and sad, he’s confused. This one might hurt.
Tamaki gets embarrassed so easily but when he is around you something just happens to him. He’s so fluster and can’t look at you but at the same time he’s calm and needs your company. Tamaki finds himself thinking about you and your smile, how soft you look to hold. But why would you want someone like him? Someone who hides and stutters all the time.
Until he was forced to ask you out by Mirio. If he didn’t tell you then mirio would have to tell you himself. And Tamaki almost fainted on the spot. How could he face you?
So he went to your office, stuttering already and panicked. When he knocked on your door he hoped you wouldn’t be there.
“Hello,” you greet the person with a smile that only brightens when you realize it was him, “Tamaki, come in.” You open the door for him and he walks In quickly.
Your office was just like you. He loved how you made this place just as your own, it made him feel safe.
“What’s up? Need another pair of hands on a mission?” You walk back to your desk and near your gear that you needed to take off. He cleared his throat.
“N-no, actually, I have something to say.” You turn to look at his tense frame. “Oh?” Then he turned his face around and took a deep breath.
“Mirio helped me with this. Close your eyes and say what’s one your heart. Um- Okay, okay.” He whispers to himself and tightens his fists. You arch a brow and watch him curiously.
He takes a deep breath then begins to stutter and trip over his words, “W-Wanna take you out- On a date.” His voice breaks loudly. “I hope I did it right..” I wishes to himself breathy and panting.
You stare at the back of his head and place your hands on your desk..Mirio must have set him up to this. Must have felt pity for you, or to do this as a joke.
“I can’t believe you both- I’m not a bet or a joke.” He jumps out of his skin at your shouting voice. His head runs quickly at what he must have said to make you yell at him.
“This isn’t- Oh no, not how I want this to go.” He closes his eyes and shakes a bit.
“Oh? Wanted me to say yes so you guys can laugh? Or, what? Get brownie points for asking me out? Out of pity!” There you go shouting again.
Tamaki has never heard you yell like this, unless it’s a villain…is he a villain? No, he can’t be. But his ears heat up and he sinks into his clothes.
“No…I just wanted to go out with you.” He spoke louder but still hesitant in himself. He stayed still for your next words but they never come.
Only a sniffle.
You lean down on your desk and sob while trying to stay quiet. You thought that Mirio and tamaki were your friends, and would never hurt you.
He turned his head around and something twisted in his stomach to make him feel sick. Seeing you with tears rolling down your face and sink into your own skin like him, made him feel horrible.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he walked toward. You grip on the desk and let out a soft chuckle, “That’s what happens when you pull a prank on someone.”
It clicked in his brain finally that you thought he wasn’t serious. Like he just treating you less and as a joke. It was harsh to think of him like that.
“Y/n..” he walks closer to you as you stiffen the closer he got, you sob harder.
“I get it, you can tell miriro you got me.”
“Y/n.” He said clear and without a stutter, his face and body now on the side of you. “I am in love with you.” Your breath hitched and he hears it.
“You make me wanna be brave. I can’t help but get flustered and shy around you because- Well because you’re so pretty and nice. But I want to take you out..” he leans closer as you look up at him. “I want..” he trails of and glances into your eyes with matching tears curl up in his eyes.
“I want you.”
You take a deep breath and stand up straight. You feel heat raise up in your body of embarrassment, “M’sorry.” You sob again and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer.
And he’s back to being a melted mess as you hold him close. He blushes and softly wraps his arms around you and pats your back lightly. “D-Does this mean you’ll go on a date with me?”
You chuckle and pull away from him and whip off your own tears as his hands stay on your hips. “If you don’t hate me.” You nod and sniffle one more time. He smiles,
“I Could never hate you.”
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gglitch1dd · 2 months
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This just popped up in my mind, imagine post-the contract epilogue where new mama reader had her baby like 3 months ago and she’s so clingy with her baby and Mina’s trying to drag her out of the house for a girls night out
Dilf deku just trying to reassure her that he and Sero will watch both of their kids so she can finally get out and go have fun because she’s been in the bed for months she just loves her baby so much 😭😭😭
Like Deku would is the most perfect husband you can’t tell me he won’t be patting her back and kissing her forehead as she cries abt how she’s going to miss her baby even if it’s just for a couple hours
A/N: They way i couldn't help myself, I loved every second of this.
Don't worry, Mommy
Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
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Warning: Pregnancy and giving birth scene, insecurities of weight gain, DOMESTIC FLUFFY GOODNESS
A scream ripped out of you as you gripped onto your husband who was in front of you outside of the water birth pool. Your hands gripped onto Izuku’s shoulder blades, your fingers digging into his skin as he held you up through the contraction.
“You’re doing so well, honey. He’s almost here. Just a few more. You’re doing wonderful.” He whispered into your ear. The sound of your screaming was one that broke his heart, especially since he couldn’t do anything to help you at all. He whished he could, but all he could do was stay supportive and stay strong for you. He swallowed down the pain of hearing your cries as you held onto him.
You let out a gasp as your grip on him lightened. He knew to hold you up better, making sure that you wouldn’t sink back in exhaustion.
“Good job, Mrs Midoriya!” The Head Midwife of the Horikoshi Heroes Hospital praised as she assessed your progress. Mrs Hayashi had a bright smile on her face as she rubbed your lower back as you took a few seconds of rest away from the contractions. “He’s almost here. Just a few good pushes and he’ll be out.”
Izuku looked over to Mrs Hayashi. She gave a positive look with a nod of her head, motioning to the other nurses in the room to get everything ready for the baby’s arrival. Izuku let out a relieved breath. You had been in labour for the past fourteen hours and admittedly the first two hours of that were you eating and getting ready to actually get to the hospital before anything. You had been thrown into harsh contractions for the past few hours and only ten minutes ago were you fully dilated and had urgently told your husband that you needed to push.
Izuku placed a kiss to the top of your head as he held your tired form. You had never looked more beautiful than you did now, in his eyes. “You hear that, my love? We’re so close.” He whispered down to you as he held you like it was the easiest thing in the world.
“Izuku…” You let out tiredly as you tilted your head to look up at him. You had always supported your husband unconditionally, sometimes giving more than him (rarely), however, this was something you were grateful to have him for. Where you trusted in his strength more than you felt like you could trust your own. “He’s early.”
“Only by a week.” Izuku spoke optimistically. “He’s being punctual.”
You let out a low chuckle before another contraction hit you. You tensed as you arched your back in pain. You tried to bite back the horrible agony that was birth as your nails once again punctured your husband’s skin. Suddenly it felt like you were on fire, you buried your head in your husband’s neck as you tried not to scream like you were getting murdered.
“I see the head, Mrs Midoriya! Almost there. Just two big pushes!” You heard Mrs Hayashi praise.
It didn’t take more than ten second before you felt like you had nothing left in you as you practically collapsed against your husband.
However, the sound of crying reach your ears making you open your eyes and turn. You looked up at your husband. Izuku’s face was split into one of pure shock but also pure delight as tears brimmed his eyes. He looked down at you and placed so many kisses on your head. He whispered something to you but you couldn’t hear it over your son’s crying.
Your son…
You reached a hand out. “I…” You didn’t even have to wait long before the little boy was being placed in your arms against your chest. He was small in your arms but had a head filled with curly green hair. His cries started to soften as he felt your skin against his. You let out a soft breath in disbelief. “Hi…” You let out softly. “Hi there, beautiful.” He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life. He looked so much like he’s father but he was undeniably yours too. He moved his head closer to your skin as he lay there, helpless and in your arms.
You were a mother.
And you were also crying.
You felt your husband tighten his arms around the both of you, holding onto you and a hand to his new son as tears fell out of his eyes. It turned from your son crying to the both of you crying. You couldn’t help but grip him tightly.
“What a handsome boy. What’s his name?”
Izuku looked up at the nurse before looking down at his new son. His face soft and round. “Toshinori. Midoriya Toshinori.”
“Izuku!”
“Hanta!”
Both men hugged each other as they met at the door. “How have you been man? It’s been forever since I last saw you.” Sero stated as he looked at the green haired man in front of him.
Izuku chuckled as he scratched the back of his head. “Children.” He stated with a sigh, tiredness in his voice but also overwhelming gratefulness.
Sero laughed but nodded. “And wives.” He pointed out.
“That’s enough out of you.” Mina sprouted out with a slap to Sero’s arm making him rub his arm but quickly receive both a baby bag and a small month old baby girl who was being carried in a baby seat. Mina was dressed in a short form fitting black dress, dressed for a night out. She had a huge smile on her face as she walked up to Izuku. “Izuku.”
Izuku smiled at the sight of his wife’s best friend. “Hello, Mina.”
Mina placed a kiss to his cheek before entering his home. “Where’s my bestie! And most importantly, where is my godson.” She asked as she strode in, making her way to the kitchen.
Izuku laughed at the questions. Ever since two years ago when you and him had gotten married purely based off a contractual agreement to get back at your ex, and Mina was your maid of honour, he had found himself having gotten close to both her and Sero Hanta. It wasn’t something Izuku expected but something he was grateful for regardless. Sero had always been an understanding and relatable friend. He was good that way.
And Mina had been the person right next to you, supporting the both of you in your marriage wholeheartedly. She was like your number one cheerleader. She was even the first person out of your entire friend group to find out of Bakugou’s infidelity to you. She had been so hands on in your life and Izuku was grateful for her.
“They’re both upstairs. She’s having detachment troubles.” Izuku spoke truthfully as he headed towards the staircase. “I’ll bring her down for you now.”
Sero moved over to the sitting room where Izuku had already planned would be their basis of operations. “Should I put on the game, Izuku?” He asked.
“Yep! My money is on the Sungoliath!”
Izuku heard a gasp come from Sero, “A man after my own heart.”
Izuku already knew where you were despite having left you in the shower. He walked into Toshinori’s room, leaning against the doorway to see you were there standing by the window, looking down at your son who was now three months old. Izuku couldn’t help but watch with a warm loving gaze as you stood there humming softly to Toshinori who smiled up at you like you were his world.
He let out a low chuckle as he walked over to you. Despite looking amazing and ready to go for a fun girls night out, you seemed very adamant on staying. He walked over to stand behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as he peered down at Toshinori. “He’s going to be fine, my love.” He reminded you.
“Oh but Izuku, I don’t want to leave him.” A pout went to your face as you looked up at your husband. Izuku let out a low laugh. “He’s my everything. Look at him. I can’t leave him now.” You stated as you held Toshinori closer to you.
Izuku’s smile was warm. You had been so dedicated to loving and spending time with your newborn that you had barely even left the house. The both of you had just clicked, unexplainably and yet wonderfully. There was no doubt in the world that Toshinori was a mama’s boy. He was always so excited to see you. But to be fair, Izuku wasn’t surprised at all, he himself was a mama’s boy.
For the past three months, he had spent it on paternity leave, gratefully and happily paid by the Japanese Government and the Heroes Commission, so he felt so blessed to spend it watching his little boy and getting to take care of him. Being parents wasn’t easy and it wasn’t always so aesthetically pleasing, but it was something Izuku wouldn’t change for the world.
“He’ll be fine. It’s gonna be me and little T over here.” Izuku moved his hand to brush his son’s soft curls of hair. “’The Midoriya boys! With the two of us and Sero, it’s gonna be our first ever guys night.” He spoke optimistically. You gave him a pointed look. He paused. “Guys night… plus Hina, but that’s not the point.” He stated as he looked down at you, turning you around to face him. He looked at you with earnest green eyes, the same eyes you had fallen so helplessly in love with. He always had a way of bringing you back to earth, just like you anchored him. You took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. He smiled down at you lovingly and let out a soft chuckle. “He’s going to be fine. Besides, look at him.” You both looked down at Toshinori who was looking at his hand, opening and closing his small chubby hand in fascination. Your son had just realised he had hands and was constantly inspecting them like they were the greatest thing to happen in his life. You both couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of him, taking Toshinori’s attention as he looked between the both of you with a coo.
“I think he’s going to be fine.” Your husband assured you as he picked Toshinori out of your hand and carefully set him down for a second in his cot. He put the baby on his stomach earning a whine from Toshinori, always having hated tummy time but that quickly stopped when he once again saw his hands. Izuku turned to look at you as he moved you into his arms. “You are going to be fine, my love.” He said assuringly, placing a kiss to your face.”
You dropped your shoulders with a sigh. “Izuku, it’s been so long.” You let out quietly. “Besides, I don’t feel like I look good enough to go out.”
Izuku tilted his head confused, his green curls moving along with his head. “What do you mean?” He asked. His eyes looked over your outfit. Definitely more covered than how you used to wear before becoming parents, but you still looked good. Izuku actually thought you looked more than good. However, he knew if he expressed just how good you looked in his eyes, you’d probably not end up leaving any time soon. “You look beautiful, honey.”
You gave him a disbelieving look. “Izuku, I’ve gained so much weight though.” You let out with a frown. “I’m a bloated whale and not the pregnant sexy kind.” You let out with a soft sigh as you looked down away from him, feeling so self-conscious. “I… I’m not who I was before.”
However, Izuku couldn’t see it. Mentally he could not comprehend what you were talking about. When he looked at you right now, all he ever saw was his wife. The woman he held his heart and his mind. The very woman who gave him his world and a reason to keep living and fighting. He didn’t see the added weight, he didn’t see the bloating or the days you felt ugly. You were always going to be his beautiful wife.
His eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head with a gentle look on his eyes. “Oh honey…” At the sound of his tone, you felt your eyes burn and you willed yourself not to cry. He took you gently into his arms, holding you tightly in a hug you didn’t know you needed. “My love, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life.” He told you genuinely. “I mean that. Everything that’s happened to your body, the added weight, the stretch marks, the random milk stains that happen everytime you hear a baby cry…” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that aspect. “That’s happened because you did something that is so uniquely powerful. My love you made a family out of me.” He leaned back to look at you and that’s when you saw love.
Pure love. His pupils were big and round as he looked down at you with nothing but gentle softness and love. He was so enamoured and so smitten it looked as though he could see nothing other than you. It was so suffocating underneath his gaze and yet you didn’t want to be anywhere else. A dimpled smile was on his face, one that made dimples appear on his freckled cheeks.
“Without you, there wouldn’t be the Midoriyas. You gave me a home, you gave me a family, you made me a father. I don’t think I can stress that enough. You…” He seemed breathless as he cupped your cheeks. A joyful laugh stumbled out of his chest as tears fell from his eyes. “You gave me a son. I don’t think I could ever repay you or spoil you for the beauty and majesty that is your presence in my life. You aren’t who you were, Y/N, but you are something so much more beautiful.” He carefully wiped the tears off your face as you tried biting back a sob. He let out a chuckle. “Now, none of that, my pretty little Tsubaki flower. You’ve got a fun night ahead of you. So go out there and have some fun. We’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”
You looked up at Izuku with a wobbly lip trying to bite back more cries but you nodded your head. “I love you.”
Izuku let out a soft breath. “I love you too.” A whine came from beside the both of you. Toshinori had a pout on his lips as he made grabby hands towards the both of you but was frustrated by the fact that he didn’t know how to get to the both of you. Izuku laughed as he picked up his son in his arms. “And so does Toshi.” He stated truthfully as the boy placed a hand on you too with a smile.
You smiled at the both of them. “My boys… I’ll miss you.” You placed a kiss on Toshinori’s head. “Be good for Daddy, okay Toshi? Don’t burn down the house.”
“No promises.”
-Glitch1d
[Midoriya Izuku Masterlist]
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thehusbandoden · 8 months
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You Flinch During an Argument -Kirishima Eijiro
A/n: this took me way too long, so sorry for the wait 🥺🥺
Holy crap this is long.. hope you enjoy this madness <33
General info:
Genre: angst to fluff/comfort // WC: 2,516
Warnings!: Arguing, one sided argument, mean reader, insecurity, self hate, slight self harm (grabbing at hair), mention of bullies, crying, flinching, and a lot of apologizing. Please let me know if I miss any! <3
Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi
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(it took forever to find this specific gif 💔)
"Y/n- I said that I was sorrry!"
"And I said I don't care anymore!"
"Y/n, please! You're being unreasonable!"
"I'm being unreasonable?! I HAVE ASKED YOU FOR ALMOST THREE MONTHS - YOU ARE SUCH A-"
"Y/n, calm down, you don’t want to say something you'll regret."
"You suck. You're a pig headed, selfish, work obsessed, slobby, jerk."
Kirishima was silent as you insulted him, part of him feeling like he deserved it all.
"Okay, y/n, I understand that I screwed up. And I know that I can't make it all better overnight, but please. You can not drive right now."
"And why not? It's not like I'm under any influence."
"Y/n, it's dark and rainy. That, plus your anger- is a sure way to kill both of us. I can not live without you, Pebble."
"Do not call me that." You seethe, glaring up at your redheaded husband.
Heart aching, Kirishima desperately thought of a way to keep you here with him, not knowing how he would cope if he lost you due to some stupid argument about cleaning.
"J-just stay here tonight. You can sleep in our bed, and I'll sleep downstairs. I won't talk to you, and if you still want to go in the morning, I won't stop you. If you're still angry, Ochako can come pick you up."
Considering the idea, you huff as you cross your arms, glaring at Kiri.
"Fine.. but I have a few conditions. On top of not talking to me, you will not touch, nor look at me. Deal?"
"If you hand me your keys, deal."
"Is that really necessary?"
"Or at least put them somewhere visible."
"Fine, deal."
"Deal." Kiri agreed, shaking your outstretched hand.
~
After you walked in Kiri waited a minute or so before following pursuit, closing and locking the front door with a relieved sigh- simply happy that you agreed on staying here for tonight.
After picking up the living room and washing the dishes, Kirishima deemed it okay to go upstairs to swiftly get ready for bed.
As Eijiro thought about your side of the argument his heart started weighing him down with guilt.
He truly didn't mean to be such a jerk. He didn't think about how overworked and exhausted you were.
In his head, he was going above and beyond picking up after himself, doing the dishes every other day, taking out the trash, folding both his clothes and the fitted sheets, and cooking breakfast almost every morning. He didn't think about the other household chores, how much work caring for the house took, nor how long and hard you worked on top of the house.
You worked shorter hours then he did, that's true, but you still worked hard and desperately tried to be patient with him. For over a month you've been gently asking him to help out more or do this and that for you.
When you asked him to do a specific thing he truly did try his best to get it done as soon as possible. Pausing his game to take out the trash, setting reminders to switch the laundry on his days off, scrubbing pots and pans late at night, and watering the plants most every morning before work.
But he didn't understand when you asked him to 'do more', he thought that he was doing a lot more than average, totally forgetting to consider that you work too and he's not the sole provider.
You had gotten really annoyed with how much you did in the house and how little he did in comparison, and confronted him once again after he got home from work.
He was quite confused and defended himself, not really seeing your side of things. It took ten minutes of arguing back and forth to actually understand your side of things, realizing that due to you both providing you both needed to tend to the house.
Guilt consumed him as he attempted to apologize again and again yet you wouldn't let him talk. After twenty minutes of this one sidedness you got angry and stormed out, telling him that you were going to Ochako's house.
Even though Kiri felt extremely guilty, he was mostly relieved that you didn't leave in these conditions, knowing that he wouldn't be able to function if he lost you for good.
Kiri was snapped out of his thoughts due to the tingling feelings of his hands going numb due to the cold water pouring onto them.
Sighing, Kiri turned off the water before sneakily grabbing a spare blanket, his pillow, and a pair of pajama bottoms from your shared bedroom, refusing to look at you as he hurried out of the dark room.
After changing and settling on the couch Kiri simply stared at the ceiling, going over your side of things and realising how much he screwed up and what he could do to change and start to make it up to you.
~~
You jolted awake as a large crashing sound came from downstairs, hurrying out of bed, you readied your quirk in case of a villain.
"Ei..? Is that you?" You call, poking your head out into the kitchen.
"Yeah- sorry for waking you up."
"It's okay.. but what happene-" you froze as you saw Kirishima on the floor, shattered dishware surrounding him.
"Eijiro what the heck!" You exclaim, reaching out your arm to try and help the pro hero.
"I- I was trying to clean.. I'm sorry.."
At the word 'clean' memories of last night flooded your mind, causing you to drop your hand to your side, irritation flooding your senses.
"Oh, so now you're trying to make three months of neglectness and excuses better in one night?"
"N-no! Not at all! I just wanted to start helping out more!"
"It's three months too late for that Eijiro."
"You're being unreasonable-"
"No! What's unreasonable is you and your selfish laziness!"
"I'm trying! We're both new to living together and I didn't understand before!"
"Whatever. Just get up and go. I'll have to clean up and stop by the store before work."
"What- no! I'll clean it up!" Kiri exclaimed, jumping up from the ground, hardening his skin so he wouldn't get cut.
Shards of glass bounced off of Kiri's hardened skin, flying everywhere. Luckily, you were a pro hero, and had the amazing reflexes that came from that line of work. You dived down, avoiding the injury you would've received.
"Y-y/n! Are you okay?!" Kirishima exclaimed, rushing to your side.
Seeing the sudden movement you flinched, body still under alert.
After realizing what happened your heart dropped.
Oh no.
Kirishima was a gentle soul. He cared for you deeply and was always looking for ways to make your life easier and more enjoyable. There is no way he would take this lightly. He would definitely paint a wor-
You were snapped out of your thought process at the sound of a door closing. Panicking, you realized that Kirishima was xgonex.
"Ei!?" You call, hurrying to check for him in the living room, quickly realising that he left. Panicking, you hurry to slip on some slippers before making your way out the door, rushing to Kirishima's truck before he could pull out.
"Ei wait!" You exclaim, putting one hand on the handle of the truck and the other on his window. After looking down at you, he bit his lip before slightly opening the window so he could hear you.
"Go back in the house Pebble.." Kiri whispered, causing your heart to ache in dismay.
"Eijiro- what's wrong? I wasn't scared of you it was a reaction from the-"
"I don't care y/n. You flinched because of me- I- I need some time."
You could feel tears stinging your eyes as you stepped back, biting your lip as you watched Kirishima put the truck in reverse and slowly back out of the driveway, face heavy with hurt.
As soon as the red truck disappeared from sight you broke, running into the house before falling onto the couch, sobbing into a pillow.
The angered words you spat at your sweet, loving Eijiro flashed through your mind as you cried, guilt weighing you down as you remembered Kiri's heart broken face. Your mind started playing against you, shouting at you for your selfish, idiotic words and how you hurt the one person you cared most about.
'He didn't do anything!'
'You stupid little- he was doing his best! He apologized! And yet you treated him so- so horribly due to a few mistakes!'
'He really doesn't derseve you. He deserves someone as patient and loving as he is.'
'He was so heartbroken! You idiot!'
'I bet he's going to find somone better then you. I would't blaim him either.'
Tears rolled down your face as you sat up to stare at a picture of Eijiro on your wedding day. His red eyes were sparkling as he grinned at the camera, feeling nothing but joy and such love for you.
You two met in elementary school. You saved him from some bullies yada yada and instantly became friends. He was in third grade, you were in second. Your grade difference meant that you didn't get to play much, and so you thought of him as one of your temporary friends. The kind that you met at a park, played once, and then forgot about one another the next day.
But he was.. special. There was something about how the older boy's eyes shone when he looked at you, or how strong he seemed even though he was in tears frequently. You quickly found out that he was special. Even compared to your best friend, Sakura Mei.
You admired him for many reasons. For trying to be so strong even though the bullies' mean words brought him to tears, for how kind he wa -giving up his hard earned treat to a little toddler who wanted it at pick-up, sharing his lunch with a kid that was too late to get his own, having shorter turns so the next kid would get it sooner, and helping his teacher whenever and however possible.
You two became best friends and played with each other after school, causing your parents to create a long lasting friendship as well. For years you thought of him as your best friend, but a crush started to form in middle school, causing you to get confused.
Even when Kiri started to get self conscious and have a lot of self doubt, he was always by your side. Scolding you for having any of those thoughts, no matter how small. And so in return you helped him. Helping with training, bringing him food and water, reassuring him when he needed it, and even holding him as he cried. You were the reason he was able to recover so quickly, and afterwards he got into UA highschool, and you followed pursuit the next year.
After eight months of high school he confessed, and that was it. After you graduated he was there to cheer you on the loudest, and seven months later he proposed. The day of your wedding was full of joy, laughter, tears, smiles, and love. A love that made your chest ache in happiness, causing you to smile a little wider, kiss him a little harder, and fall in love a little harder.
Thinking back about it now, your tears came faster as an aching cold spread through your chest, causing the tears to fall faster.
"Eijiro.." you whimper, hugging onto the shark pillow Eijiro insisted on getting for your newly bought home.
It was crazy expensive, but he told you not to worry about it, and that it was "for our future famly".
"Ei.. I'm so sorry!" You cry, grasping your hair in your hands, tugging lightly but knowing not to hurt yourself or Kiri would be upest and worried.
Pawing for your phone, you unlocked the device before calling the contact "Bakubeast".
"What do you need." Bakugo huffed, causing you to whimper softly, catching the hot head's attention.
"Woah woah- do not cry. Crappy hair would kill me."
"I- I- E- Eijiro-" you rasp, having difficulty breathing and getting your point across.
"Hey hey- y/n calm down." Bakugo panicked, his softer tone helpig you calm down.
He was a good friend of both you and Eijiro, so him being kind to you really did help.
"Y/n/n, breathe."
Gasping for air you try to control your breathing, taking one deep breathe after another.
"Atta girl. Keep on breathing for m- for Eijiro."
Calm washed over you as you exhaled, sighing shakily.
"T-thank you." You whisper, causing Bakugo to scoff.
"Yeah yeah- now why are ya crying? Do I need to kicks some a-"
"No. It's me, not him. I'm wondering, is Ei over there? H-he left and I'm worried about him."
"No he hasn't. When did he leave? You do know that I'm like twenty minutes away, right?"
"That's true.. it's only been around ten.."
"I'll call you if he pulls up. But if you don't mind me asking.. what happened?"
"I'm sure Ei will explain.. I really don't wanna talk about it right now.."
"Okay.. well hang in there and call me if you need."
"Yeah.. okay."
"Have a better night, talk to ya later."
"Mhm.. bye.."
~~Kiri's pov~~
Kirishima felt like screaming.
Even though he knew that you weren't scared of him and it was just a reaction from the glass but it still hurt.
After pulling into his best friend's drive way, Eijiro quickly made his way to the door and knocked, wanting the hot head's opinion and seeking comfort.
"What happened to you?" Bakugo scoffed, opening his door as an invitation to come in.
"Can we.. talk?"
"If you make things right between you and your Cry Baby afterwards- then yes."
~~Your pov~~
You sniffled as you clung to Kirishima's pillow, eyes dry and puffy.
It's been an hour since Bakugo texted him that Kirishima was at his place, and you've been waiting for him to return or at least an update.
Your heart ached and you wanted nothing more than to be in Eijiro's arms and forget all about this horrid arugment. What if he didn't want you anymore.. what if-
You jumped out of bed as soon as you heard the door open, sprinting down the stairs to meet your Eijiro.
"Baby!" You exclaim, jumping into Eijiro's arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, you attacked his shoulders, neck, cheeks, forehead, nose, and lips with kisses.
"I am so sorry! I- I said so many mean things to you and- and-"
"Woah woah Baby- calm down." Eijiro cooed, catching your lips in a kiss to distract you from your worries. "I know.. and I forgive you, so.. could you forgive me?"
"Yes! Yes- I am so sorry for-"
Catching your lips in another kiss, Kiri sat on the couch, holding you in his lap as he kissed you, stealing both his and your complete attention.
Reblogs help spread and support my work therefore they help me immensely but any support is appreciated<33
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Tips <3
Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.
Sorry again for how late this was.. I hope it wasn't too long :(
661 notes · View notes
sawbiter · 6 months
Text
kiss it better - izuku midoriya
- cws/tags : smut, oral (reader receiving), afab reader with no specific pronouns used (i believe), love bites, relatively vanilla, softy izuku bc i like my men loving, fluffy, being in love, established relationship, shy!reader, porn w/o plot, reassurance, minor insecurities (all bodies / genitals r beautiful!)
18+ content ahead; you are responsible for the media you consume online.
author's note: i had covid nd then writers block but im back for now! pls enjoy i love izuku.
-
you can feel yourself flushing slightly as izuku takes off your shirt, unclipping your bra after he does so.
hes still fully clothed (unfairly, in your opinion,) and it's honestly,, a little nerve-wracking.
“baby?” izuku snaps you back to reality, looking up at you from his spot on the floor and noticing your nerves, “we don't have to do this- I won't be mad or anything.”
his red eyes are so, so soft.
you swallow, “i want to. i'm just.. i don't want to like.. tatse bad to you,” you say, your arms crossing in front of your chest subconsciously.
he just smiles up at you, “you won't, baby. i promise.” izuku grips your hand and squeezes reassuringly, “how about,, i start off just kissing you down there? just warming you up a bit?”
you flush further, butterflies invading your stomach as you nod.
he nods back at you, before beginning to give your thighs teasing love bites, kissing them gently after he pulls off for each one.
it's teasingly slow, you feel so achy you almost wish you hadn't asked him to go slow.
when he finally, finally makes it to your cunt, you're almost gushing for him. he smiles up at you once more, squeezing your hand before beginning, giving your clit a kiss and pushing your thighs further apart for better access.
you whine lowly at his teases, your whimpers getting louder as he laps up your juices & sucks on your clit, “'zuku,,“ you whimper, your eyes teary.
“'s it good, baby?” he asks, pulling away for a moment. you nearly sob at the loss of stimulation.
“please, keep going. feels,, so good.” you sniffle, your hips twitching upwards as he goes back to it, sucking on your clit.
he inserts a finger, causing you to outright moan his name and buck your hips to meet his hesitantly thrusting fingers.
“so brave, huh?” izuku praises, his voice slightly muffled from how close he is to your cunt, “you just needed me to calm you, 'nd now you're all wet for me.”
you nod vigorously, “please, 'm gonna cum soon- don't stop.”
as soon as you announce it, it's like a switch flipped in his brain, and he's back to lapping at your cunt, speeding up his fingers as he licks up your juices like it's his last meal. your thighs lock up around his head, your fingers tugging at his hair- practically suffocating him in your cunt.
with another harsh suck to your aching clit, you cum with a loud moan, almost going limp as your thighs lock tense around his head only to go slack.
“was that too much?“ he asks, as soon as you come down from your high.
“it was great- i love you.” you respond.
he smiles, “i love you too.”
719 notes · View notes
maliciouslove · 11 months
Text
𝕍𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕟
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NSFW, dark content, aged up characters (21+)
ʚ pairing ɞ scumbag villain!izuku midoriya x morally corrupt hero!reader
ʚ word count ɞ 2.7k
ʚ summary ɞ izuku grew up with all power taken from him, so he became the type of person that enjoys making others feel powerless. nothing feeds his ego more than a cute girl crumbling under his touch and feeling powerless to stop him from sliding his hands all over her body in the packed train. until he meets you—a peculiar, equally fucked in the head girl that actually enjoyed the things he was doing to her. enjoyed the thrill of almost being caught. enjoyed having power taken from her. a debauched, morally corrupt hero in disguise.
ʚ tags ɞ frotteurism (fetish for groping people in crowded places), tw dubcon, tw noncon, tw sexual assault, tw sexual harassment, tw exhibitionism, tw power imbalance, pussy job, public sex, creampie, cw degradation, use of “whore” once
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Just like any other child, Izuku Midoriya grew up wanting to be a hero, however, despite his aspirations, the boy never manifested a quirk. Still, he never gave up and never lost hope—that is, until he failed the UA entrance exam and was brutally made fun of by everyone else.
“Look at this loser, thinking he could pass the exam without an actual quirk, what a joke.”
“Jokes are funny, this guy is absolutely pathetic. Go home kid, become a policeman or fireman instead, leave the hero work for those with quirks.”
“Maybe if you take a swan dive off a roof, you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life.”
Some heroes they were going to be.
And that was when his mind started getting corrupt. Izuku went down a different, darker path than the one he had envisioned as a child. He mixed with the wrong people and little by little he shed off his hero dream, discarding it alongside his morals, being perfectly content being a scumbag villain instead.
All power was stripped away from him once the world learned he was quirkless, so he sought ways to make others feel even more powerless than he did. Nothing stroked his ego more than making cute girls squirm and crumble under his touch in paralyzing fear, as his hands wandered over their bodies on a packed train. He enjoyed the way their eyes would shut tightly as if to avoid confronting the reality of their own powerlessness in the situation. The way their bodies stiffened the moment he leaned in closer to take a whiff of their perfume.
Why aren’t you saying anything, pretty girl? You have a quirk, don’t you? That already makes you more qualified than me to be a hero. So why are you letting me touch you? Why are you keeping your eyes shut? Why are you giving me so much power?    
Every little squirm, every hitch of their breath, every shake of their hands, and the way they would hope somebody would notice—it made Izuku feel powerful.
Do you know why you’re weaker than even me, sweetheart? Because you’re waiting for someone else to save you, you’re waiting for a hero.
 That’s how his days went by—hop on the train, find the weakest target, the insecure girls, the quiet ones, the ones whose eyes still sparkled with hope that a big strong hero will always be there to protect them. Once he found his victim, he moved in, ready to prove them wrong—show them how little heroes actually care. Towering over them, he would stare down their cleavage, letting his imagination run wild as his hands slide up the side of their hip. An accidental grind against their ass, a swift trace of his index finger down the inside of their thigh. His ministrations would make his targets shrink even further, the thrill of being found out feeding his power hunger further and making his cock painfully hard in the confinement of his slacks.
It became routine until he was able to pick out the perfect targets with a single glance, until he was able to predict what each girl would do and how everything would play out. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to find someone equally as debauched as him one day.
With your car being in the repair shop for the next week, you had started using public transport to get to work. That of course meant having to travel during peak hours, more often than not finding yourself pressed against strangers, sometimes absolute creeps, and yet some very dark and hidden part of you enjoyed that, the unwanted attention making you buzz with excitement.
And today was no different—you found yourself pushed in the very corner of the train car facing away from the other passengers. A large green-haired man stood right behind you, muscular arm holding onto the ceiling rail as his entire body loomed over your much smaller one.
The train was fully packed and everyone was minding their business— some sleeping, some listening to music, and others glued to their phones. Yet, the man behind you seemed to focus all his attention on you. You could feel his gaze travel down your nape, studying the curvature of your spine, eyes moving downwards to your ass and legs. It felt like prickles on your skin, like an invisible hand stripping you of all your clothes and the thought made you rub your thighs together.
The lack of space forced you both to stand very close to each other, the motions of the train pushing you into his chest every so often. You could tell he was using every opportunity to smell your hair, craning his neck downwards to also look down your shirt. You wonder if he could see what color your bra was, if he could see the lace poking out from under the collar of your shirt.
The train changed tracks again and you found yourself pressed against his chest once more. This time his large hand found purchase on your hip, thumb gently stroking the bit of skin that was showing above the hem of your skirt. In the reflection of the window, you see his green eyes staring into yours, full of lust and hunger. His aura threatening to consume you entirely and for a second, your body filling with fear, a heavy feeling settling in your chest.
You look away, quickly.
Your heart is hammering in your chest and you fear he can hear it, taste the blood that’s currently coursing through your veins.
The train shifts and you can feel his hard cock pressed against your ass, his fingers on your hip tightening their grip. Your body feels paralyzed under his touch.
But not by fear.
Excitement.
You let your body be swayed by the motion of the train, making sure to circle your ass back onto his cock, licking your lips and buzzing with pleasure when your skirt hitches on his bulge, lifting and revealing part of your panties. You take a swift look around to see if anyone is looking your way, but as usual, everyone is consumed in their own thoughts, too absorbed by their own miserable existence to notice anything else.
You’re dragged out of your momentary haze by his breath on your neck.
“What do you think you’re doing there, sweetheart, has your mommy not taught you any better?”
His voice is deep, feigning concern for you while his eyes ooze vile lust and need for control. His presence devours you, it feels like sludge covering you from head to toe, sliding down your throat and filling your lungs with dread, making you unable to talk, unable to even look him in the eye.
His hands move down your hips, hiking your skirt up even further, fingers tracing the delicate lace of your underwear. Your clit is throbbing with anticipation so perfectly masked as fear. For Izuku, your heightened pulse meant paralyzing fear, but only you knew the truth about how this made your blood boil in excitement. How much you wanted him to slide his hands between your legs, to fucking take you right then and there, amidst the people that could see the pleasure blooming on your face any second now.
You faintly hear the unzipping of his slacks and feel the warmth of his cock on your bare skin—it’s thick and heavy against your ass cheek, smearing pre on your skin and panties. You’re feeling dizzy, body going limp in his strong arms as his hand sneaks around your waist and cups your pussy under the frills of your skirt.
For a brief moment, his movements pause as his mind processes what he’s feeling—you’re soaking wet, panties completely drenched, arousal practically dripping down your thighs. He was used to women’s bodies reluctantly reacting to him, but this was rather different. His eyes dart forward, inspecting your features more closely now—your heart was erratic, but not because of crippling fear. He leans in, noticing how blown your pupils are, consuming all the color in your eyes. Lips parted and chest heaving, he finally finds the piece of the puzzle that seemed to be missing, the explanation behind the odd feeling of being unable to predict what his prey will do next—your eyes had the same fragmented madness behind them.
You were just as sick as he was.
Without a second of hesitation, the hand that’s cupping your sex moves your panties to the side, thick and calloused fingers running through your wet folds, spreading your arousal and circling around your clit with tender motions.
A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it—your skin is on fire and your insides are melting under this stranger's touch. You close your eyes in an attempt to compose yourself while the hand on your hip travels up your sides to squeeze your breast, teasing your nipples over the fabric. The green-haired man’s breath is almost as erratic as yours, his hard and leaking cock evidence of how turned on he was by your compliance, by the fact you were actually enjoying being used like this in public.
His cock now rubs between your thighs, his hot skin meeting your sticky one, and your insides beginning to knot just by the thought. You’re letting a complete stranger get off on you. You secretly hope that someone else on the train has noticed and is maybe even enjoying the show.
Your insides are aching for relief so you push yourself against his cock, the mushroom tip spreading and gliding between your folds, clit rubbing against the veins on his shaft.
Holding yourself with one hand by the ceiling rail and slightly lifting yourself onto your tiptoes, feeling the tip of his cock pushing against your entrance. Biting your lip you sink back onto his cock, taking two inches past your entrance, grazing your soft walls. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes you experience every sensation trifold, makes you want to shamelessly grind against him and moan in ecstasy, but you are in public, therefore you compose yourself and relish in the slow feeling of being filled up by this man.
Izuku’s hand grips your waist harder, fucking himself into your tight, greedy cunt, feeling himself being sucked in by your plush walls. You are practically dripping onto his cock, the natural lubrication allowing him to smoothly fully sheathe himself inside you, putting his other hand over your mouth to prevent to moan that was about to escape your lips.
He holds you there, flush against him, the tip of his cock pressing against the deepest, most delicious spot inside you, subtle hip movements rocking you back and forth, the slow motion allowing him to massage that sweet spot he currently finds himself pressed against.
His eyes briefly scan the train cart, confirming that every passenger is still oblivious to what’s going on, continuing to push you off his thick cock, only to slide back in, softly, as though not to make a sound.
He’s big in every sense. His large frame hiding you from any onlookers, big hands easily maneuvering you onto his fat cock, splitting you open and pushing through the resistance of your tight hole. Your body jolts as he stretches you out almost painfully, but every time he thrusts inside you, you see stars in your vision from how deep he was.
You feel snug and warm around Izuku’s cock and he could stay buried inside you forever. He’s never met anyone this fucked up who would let him use them for his own pleasure. In a fully packed train nonetheless. You were sick and twisted just like Izuku, making him relish in the feeling, sensing that you’re not going to cause a scene and opting to let go of your waist in favor of sliding his hand down the front of your pelvis and playing with your puffy clit.
The moment he started drawing soft circles around your sensitive nub he felt your knees give in and your insides clench. God, you were going to come undone for him.
He watches your eyebrows pinch together as you bite your lip, slowly increasing the pace of his thrusts. You look so pretty, trying to keep your pleasure hidden, but shamelessly moving your hips to match his own.
For the first time during this train ride, you look into his eyes and maintain eye contact instead of shyly breaking it off. There is pure sin set ablaze in your eyes, a lustful need, a burning desire that he feels he needs to quench. Just your eyes alone could make Izuku cum on the spot, seductive and debauched, deprived and full of the same madness as his own.
Your eyes beg him, so he obeys.
With one final, rather harsh thrust Izuku buries himself to the hilt, emptying his load deep inside your gummy walls, spurting thick white ropes of cum while nuzzling his face in your neck—committing your scent to memory.
The train slows down as it approaches the next stop and the strange man gently pulls out. Your hands quickly fix your panties and skirt, hiding any evidence of his ministrations. His load slowly trickles down, soiling your panties, and yet the feeling brings you nothing but joy, as if you were currently on cloud nine.
The train comes to a halt, an alarm signaling the opening of the doors blares out.
The mass of people began leaving the train, the tall green-haired man seamlessly blending into the crowd and disappearing.
Avoiding eye contact and swiftly walking past clusters of people, Izuku was assured he was out of danger, turning around the corne—
“Where do you think you’re going, handsome?” You cut off his path and look into his eyes, a smile that didn’t reach your eyes plastered on your lips. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”
“Aw, I don’t think anyone’s ever come for seconds before.” Izuku places his hands in his pockets, giving you a smug smile and shamelessly tracing every curve of your body with his eyes, imagining what you look like without all those pesky clothes on.
“Aw, you know, you’re kinda cute, Izuku Midoriya,” The green-haired man's smile faltered. From the inside pocket of your jacket you pull out a card that he immediately recognizes. A card he was destined to never ever obtain. “Too bad I’m gonna have to arrest you.”
Before his mind could assimilate, you had easily pushed him against the wall with his hands behind his back, placing handcuffs on his wrists.
“Y-You can’t arrest me, you whore, you literally let me fuck you, what kind of hero are you?” He spits out in shock, words laced with venom, growling in attempting to shake you off, even though panic rises in his throat like bile. “You’re no fucking hero, you’re just like me.”
“Mm, I  probably am… but see, I have a quirk so I can get away with being a morally corrupt hero.” The words spoken in a sickly sweet voice rang in his ears, deafening, despite being whispered, meant only for his ears to hear.
Izuku opens his mouth to argue, to threaten to expose you, but you shush him with an index finger over his lips.
“Don’t bother, who do you think they are going to believe? A pro-hero with a quirk and a squeaky clean record, or a quirkless scumbag that we have hundreds of reports on for sexual harassment and assault?”
With no affection or remorse you yank him by the hair and lick the shell of his ear.
“I had fun, Izuku. Find me when you get out of jail.” You place a final feather light kiss to his cheek and lead him through the crowds to bring him into the nearest precinct.
No man would ever make you feel as alive and exhilarated as he did, the memory of what you did being something you often revisit when you get yourself off late into the night after patrol, thinking of his villainous green eyes, while your words would haunt Izuku and play on a loop each night as he plotted ways to find you once he had served his time.
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𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.
all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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How do you think Izuku, Bakugo, Shoto Eijirou, Hitoshi and Mirio would be during their first time?
On their first time. Usually people ask for the Reader's first.
Pairing: Izuku Midoriya, Bakugo Katsuki, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima, Hitoshi Shinso, Mirio Togata x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, first time, cunnilingus, blowjob, praise kink, being cocky, finishing early
A/N: Well I asked for you to keep these requests coming and here you are, so thank you.
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Izuku would be incredibly nervous about it. He'd try to make everything perfect and end up doing things wrong on accident. Accidentally torn clothes, falling face first into your breasts because he was so eager to get to you, his clumsy fingers thrusting in and out of you, his insecure and sloppy thrusting that only lasts a few thrusts before he's shooting his cum inside of you. It's a series of accidents and discoveries and laughing and blushing, but Izuku takes it in stride despite how flustered he feels because he wants to make you feel good too.
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Bakugo acts really confidant during foreplay. Kissing, touching, grinding, teasing you is all he knows. You can visibly see how he freezes up when he takes his cock into his hand and lines up with your entrance. He's fucked pussy toys before but its a completely different feeling to have your warm, sopping wet walls wrapped around his cock. He's ramping up the force of his thrust right from the get go, overwhelmed by passion and lust, kissing and licking your breasts and neck, trying to mark you up in every way possible, make you his inside and out.
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Shoto wants to make it romantic. He starts with what you both know well: kissing. He's taking it so slow you wonder if he's ever gonna get to sex. When you feel his hands traveling up your thighs you shudder, melt into him and start undoing his tie. Seeing that you're having some trouble he kisses a smile against your cheek, his tie coming off, followed by your shirt, his shirt, your skirt, his pants and finally your bra and panties and his briefs. He can't stop looking at you, worshipping every part of you on his way down. For someone who is doing this for the first time he's showing a lot of control and restraint even when his cock is balls deep inside of you. To him this night isn't just about pleasure but about the two of you showing your love.
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Eijiro was trying to make you feel like he was in control but in reality he was freaking out on the inside. His hands were shaking while he took your clothes off, his face turning a similar shade to his hair. When it was time to push his cock into you the first time he was hesitant. Rock hard he might be but even he knew it would be tough not to lose himself in the pleasure he would feel. While he wanted to prove that he was the best boyfriend by making you come first it was proving very difficult to hold back and not just go wild on you and fuck every bit of his cum into you. It was an inner conflict that you solved by taking him by surprise and flipping him over, now he doesn't have to overthink things, he shouldn't, he should let himself enjoy this moment to its fullest.
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Hitoshi was mostly blank faced while you sucked on his cock, there wasn't anything different then usual about the way you were acting so imagine his surprise when he feels something even warmed pushing down on his cock. Oh. The two of you have talked about this before, about doing it soon but he didn't realize you wanted it right now. You've rubbed your pussy against his cock before but he'd never been inside of you before. It was an almost overwhelming feeling, his face finally showing some nervousness, making you feel like you weren't alone in feeling like this and that this was just as special for him as it was for you.
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Mirio would try to make the situation lighthearted and fun. Yeah he was nervous, of course he was but he also knew very well that it didn't matter how he performed now, the two of you had all the time in the world to figure things out and make it feel better in the future. That being said he wasn't gonna slack off by any means. He's lavishing you with nothing by praise and sweet whispers against your pussy, wanting to make sure you're wet enough for someone of his size and girth. It felt like a dream to make love to you all night. Well almost all night, you took breaks for cuddles and snacks and drinks to keep your energy up.
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andypantsx3 · 1 year
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some barbarian bakugou thing idk | sfw | gn reader | 1.3k words
It's cold.
The fire crackles at your back, sending warm licks of heat up and over your spine, but it's not enough. You shiver, trying to settle deeper into the hard ground, drawing your cloak up over your nose where it's beginning to grow cold.
Normally, you'd be snuggled deep in your bedroll by now, but you'd stupidly tied it too insecurely to your pack this morning. It had come loose just as your group had forded the river on Kirishima's back, the redhead wearily but gamely shifting into his dragon form to get you safely across the rushing water.
As he plodded across, splashing loudly, your bedroll had tumbled into the icy water, and you'd watched mournfully as it had been immediately dragged under and carried downriver.
It was another day from the nearest town, another day before you could replace it.
When you settled into camp, Midoriya had chivalrously offered his own bedroll—which you had declined, as the loss of yours had been your own fault—and Uraraka had offered a warming spell—but you could see the exhaustion around her eyes and mouth since the battle yesterday, and she still looked pale and peaky. You thought another spell might finish her off for good.
But now you almost wish you'd taken either of them up on it, their discomfort be damned.
Almost.
Suffering the consequences of your own mess was the least you could do for them, really. You owe them everything for saving your life time and time again, starting when they'd first happened upon your village under a bandit raid, you the only survivor.
You've tried your hardest to repay them, stitching up wounds and mending torn clothes, taking over the cooking and fire tending whenever you make camp. Once you'd even talked a merchant down from chopping off Kiri's hand when he'd gotten a little too me dragon, must hoard over a ruby necklace at market.
You won't put everyone out over something as stupid as a lost bedroll, not when you owe them more than you could possibly ever give.
A cool wind whispers through the trees, and you can't suppress another violent shiver. You inch loser to the fire, barely caring if the sparks catch on your clothes and light you up in the night if it means you can be warm now.
You roll onto your side, facing the flames, and shudder again when the cold creeps under your cloak at the movement.
The heat feels good on your face, dry and blistering. But your back is suddenly freezing, and you fight down a groan of frustration.
You'll never get to sleep at this rate.
As soon as this thought occurs, there's the barest whisper of a bootstep behind you. Before you can turn, a hand claps over your mouth, and a hard body slides up against your back, an arm hooking decisively around your middle to pull you back against your assailant. The scent of ash and the sweet, floral oil he uses on his leathers gives away his identity immediately.
"Don't fuckin' scream it's just me," Bakugou growls low in your ear.
You blink dumbly, mouth pursing against his rough palm. "Fwuuh?" you say.
Bakugou Katsuki is notoriously standoffish, the member of your party you'd learned the least about in your weeks with them. A barbarian from the steppes, he's got little time or patience for your people's mannerisms. He seems to like very few things—his dragon Kirishima, his broadsword Hearteater, and the opportunity for a good fight being the exceptions—and you seem to be one of the things he tolerates the least.
He'd been the one who'd run his sword right through the bandit about to kill you, but since then he's acted like it was a mistake. He barely looks at you when you clean his wounds, he never accepts any of your rations when you offer them, and he's recently taken to combat training you, maintaining a harsh commentary on all of your best efforts.
It's a shame he's also so handsome and charismatic, as it makes it difficult for you to discount him entirely.
"Could hear your fucking teeth chattering from the other side of the campsite," Bakugou growls, his hand lifting off your mouth. Something heavy settles over you, and you realize he's arranging his cloak over you both, the fur trim tickling your nose. It's heavy and velvety and soft, and so nice and warm.
You know you need to protest but the heat of him at your back is so deliciously good, you want to relax into him like a warm bath.
"Bakugou—what is this?" you splutter out quietly.
"What, you wanna freeze your ass off?" he demands, his words a harsh breath into your ear. His arm shifts over you, pulling you tighter as if daring you to attempt to escape.
"No," you say, trying to scrape your thoughts in order. "No. But you—is this okay for you?"
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Bakugou growls into the side of your head.
"Well you don't exactly like me," you tell him, too exhausted to be circumspect about it. You know he doesn't like it when you talk around things either. "I didn't think you were cuddling type, exactly."
Bakugou huffs a dismissive laugh into your hair. "You always fucking decide shit on your own," he mutters. "You decide you owe us shit, you decide what's best for Deku and Uraraka to do with their magic and shit, you decide you think you fucking know everything. 'S fucking annoying."
You start, not realizing he'd cottoned on to your thinking process.
"Well I've also decided that you don't much like me," you say. "And I...I do owe you guys. You've saved my life countless times these past couple of weeks."
Bakugou makes a snorting noise behind you. "You fucking village people always think that's how the world works. Owing. A favor for a favor. Trading and bartering and stupid shit. That's not how it works out here, brat. There's no equal exchange. You stay alive if you're strong enough, or if someone likes you enough to keep you alive, and that's it."
His voice is even raspier than usual, you notice. He's tired. You can hear the impatience in the clipped sound of his words, and you know his exhaustion is why you're even getting this much out of him.
You're tired, too, the heat of the fire at your front and Bakugou's hard body at your back both lulling you into a lightheaded sleepiness.
"And you like me enough to keep me alive?" You can't help but ask dubiously.
"I like you well enough even though you're fucking annoying," Bakugou says, his breath stirring the hair at the base of your neck. "But I won't if you keep fuckin' talking."
You can't help but smile at that, a little tired grin touching your mouth.
"It'll be another thing I owe you for," you say, settling back into him at last. You know you will have other thoughts about this in the morning, but for now you can't help yourself. If he's fine with it then there's not much to protest.
"Y' can repay me by shutting the fuck up," he says, before he lets out a heavy exhale, as if he too is being lured into sleep by the warmth of your own body.
You decide to leave your questions about this for the morning. It's too much to contemplate what this means for your relationship to Bakugou. Too much to contemplate that he wants, for some reason, to keep you alive.
His hand presses to your abdomen, securing you even more firmly against him, and you close your eyes again. His breathing evens out, his grip growing slack, and you can feel your own body mirroring him.
Too easily, and without another thought on the debts you're accumulating to him, you slip down into sleep.
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maroonswan · 1 year
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Do you think Midoriya Izuku would be the kind of guy who tells his partner that they "don't have to do that" when they try to suck his dick? That while your kissing down his belly the moment you get pass his navel he starts to get really nervous and tenses up because he's reluntant to have you do something so lude and that won't give you any pleasure? That even when you explain that you do want to do it and it would give you pleasure to make him feel good Izuku is still reluntant asking if you're sure? And, suddenly it hits you over the head that maybe this whole thing isn't about you but about Izu? And, that you spend the rest of the night cuddling and talking instead?
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dashielldeveron · 10 months
Text
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
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earthtooz · 1 year
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x : KISS ME ! :*+゚ whisper what your heart shows, all i want is you
in which: a stealth mission gone awry leads to a chain of events (or kisses) where you question your relationship with bakugou.
warnings: 8K WORDS, FLUFF WITH ANGST, so much kissing lmfao, slowburn, sfw steamy scenes + suggestive ending- starts intense and ends intense, pining idiots, lovesick idiots, soooo much swearing because it's bakugou, platonic friendships with todoroki and midoriya, all characters aged 22+, gn!pro-hero!reader, bad writing pls excuse me.
a/n: SEVENTH ATTEMPT AT POSTING THIS!!!! GOD this took six days to write, i am exhausted. if you don't like it i will cry bc this drained me, goodness, so reblogs appreciated! i'm so insecure abt this fic so pls tell me i did well, anyways. missed writing for my skrunkly boi!
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# ONE ! - the first kiss. 
this was not ideal.
you listen with widened eyes and a racing heart as you’re pressed against the brick wall of a dingey alleyway, bakugou’s warm palms holding your hips tightly as his chest is pushed up against yours.
he is not looking at you, but instead, looking off to the side so he can hear a little clearer. on the other hand, all you could see was bakugou’s killer jawline, his perfectly smooth skin, and one half of his violent scowl. 
the silence is disturbing, all you can hear is your heartbeat and bakugou’s heavy breaths, anticipation weighing down the air as you both try to suppress your breathing.
then it comes. heavy footsteps. multiple of them. they’re running your way and at this rate, you’ll be caught by the enemy. what, with bakugou’s hulking figure and the hoodie that just barely covered his spikey blond hair, one glance to their left and you would be caught. 
this was no good. there’s no way to get out of this alleyway in time either without attracting attention and being caught.
having a stealth mission gone awry was really embarrassing, especially when you’re pretty sure that bakugou can feel your heartbeat reverberating against him. you hope that he chalks it up to the nervousness you were currently feeling rather than the effect his proximity had on you. or, just the general effect he had on you.
“they’re coming,” you whisper so that only bakugou can hear. he finally looks you in the eye, sneering with fury in his crimson eyes. you almost flinch from the intensity of his gaze.
“i fucking know,” he retorts. “our only options are fight or flight, i’m thinking we take them.” 
with a drawled out exhale, an idea pops into your head. he’s definitely not going to approve, however.
“i’m gonna kiss you and you’re gonna need to like it.”
the footsteps are getting closer, you can now hear mumbling of the enemies chasing after you and bakugou. their leader is shouting commands and the subordinates are obeying, responding in kind with an ‘sir!’.
“excuse me?”
he’s so beautiful up close. 
“just, trust me.” 
more shouts, more thundering footsteps, all silenced when you lean in to catch bakugou’s lips with yours. his exclamation of surprise is muffled before he promptly melts into you, hands now travelling up your waist as your arms wound around his neck. there’s an element of stiffness still as his mouth moves against yours, but you doubt you’re any better. 
this wasn’t your first mission together, and most likely won’t be your last. however, the missions he normally accompanied you on were ambush, patrol, and dealing with general threats. stealth missions were a completely different story because bakugou was the loudest hero to ever exist. 
so what was he thinking when he insisted on going along with you? for safety? he was the threat-
“jump,” his words cut through your thoughts like a warm knife through butter and with the way his hands sneak down to the back of your thighs, you can’t help but give in to his demands like a programmed machine. 
you wrap your legs around his waist, deepening the kiss whilst doing so.
bakugou presses you harder against the wall, ignoring the way his mouth smirks against yours as one of your hands go to cradle his jaw. you’re careful to not remove the hood covering his very obvious blond mop of hair.
you’re letting him lead you through the kiss and it’s intense to say the least. you’re getting increasingly light-headed, but no part of you wants this to stop, screaming with bliss as he avidly seeks your lips, even when you lean back for a short moment to catch your breath.
for an interaction purposefully orchestrated, he’s really getting into it. would he kiss all his coworkers like this when they asked?
several heavy footsteps pass by and you’re just in your right mind to hear someone say ‘get a room’ before fading away. you were safe, you could run and make your escape now- a message bakugou hasn’t yet comprehended despite how honed his senses are. with the last bit of conscious you have, you physically drag his face away from yours (otherwise you don’t think you’ll ever be able to stop him). 
there’s a moment of silence where you both just stare into the other’s eyes, lips swollen and eyes wide with the realisation of what just happened.
“they’re gone,” you whisper, tearing apart the post-kiss euphoria. “put me down.”
with a grunt, he obliges, allowing you to slip away from him and into the main road again. 
“let’s go whilst we have the chance. get ready to fly, blasty.”
bakugou is surprisingly silent for the remainder of the mission. 
# TWO ! - the fleeting kiss.
surprisingly, there hasn’t been much mention of the incident you had with bakugou ever since you returned from your stealth mission. intel was acquired, shared with the people who needed it, and nothing was discussed again. to be frank, you don’t know how to feel about it.
on one hand, you’re relieved to not be able to relive the experience again but on the other, you’re disappointed to not be able to relive the experience again.
it’s been back to normal with bakugou. the occasional middle finger in the hallways, sticking your tongue at him during meetings, going into his office to bug him and him being very irritated despite not having the heart to remove you. everything fell right back into place, with an obvious piece now awkwardly attaching itself to the puzzle. 
when you simply think about what happened, your heart begins to race uncontrollably and you’re rendered stupid for a minute as you have to collect yourself. 
which is why you were throwing your head back in frustration as the cursor of your laptop blinks back at you, a sentence half-written in mocking.
“fuck off,” you whisper to yourself, punching your head even though you knew it would do nothing to stop the replay of the memory. your eyes were beginning to feel sore, mind slowly entering a state of numbness as the idea of taking a quick nap on your desk seemed more tempting than ever. 
oh well, it wouldn’t hurt.
pushing aside your laptop, keyboard, and papers, your submission to sleep is quick and effortless, not even complaining about the roughness of your desk jabbing into your chest as you doze off. 
the door to the office opens, revealing bakugou standing in the doorway holding some files and a cup of tea- your favourite, to be precise. he furrows his eyebrows in confusion, swearing that you were in your office, except the sight of a totally barren room greeted him made him stop in his tracks. where could you have gone? 
then, he hears breathing coming from behind your desk and as the blond approaches your space, he can’t help the sigh escaping him at the sight of your figure hunched over your work, head rested on your hands. you were just hidden behind your office desk and the massive company monitors. 
if being a hero doesn’t kill him first, then how adorable you were just might.
“you have a couch in your office for a reason, dumbass,” bakugou breathes to no one in particular. 
placing the items in his hand on your desk, the pro-hero takes his time analysing the best way to smoothly pick you up without waking you. assessing the situation in record time, he slowly wounds his arms behind your legs and shoulders, effortlessly picking you up to walk the short distance to the couch.
it’s with an unmatched gentleness that he places you down on the piece of furniture, briefly observing how peaceful you seem. bakugou didn’t have it in him to be mad at you for slacking off. with how you dedicate so much of yourself to your duties, he knows first hand just how hard you work. 
he’s seen it since knowing you at u.a and he sees it now as you work at his agency.
he hopes you take care of yourself properly as well.
it hits bakugou that he still has work to be done and that he really should get back to his office to minimise some of the load. so, with a grunt, he stands up.
as a bid of farewell, bakugou places a hand on the arm of the couch before leaning in to press a kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a second before pulling away, retreating back into the hallways where his agency’s top-heroes worked. 
the domesticity of this encounter leaves him wanting more. an innate desire to care for you when times get rough settling stubbornly in his gut; and as a pro hero, times always get rough. however, bakugou knows he’s capable of holding up your load simultaneously to his, he just hopes you can understand that as well despite being relentlessly independent.
# THREE ! - the kiss to silence you. 
you meet your gaze in the full-length mirror of your office with a huff, adjusting the neckline of your attire as you turn around to check your backside in the reflection too. 
this outfit was mediocre at best and you didn’t feel stunning in it at all. there was no way it would match up to the extravagant outfits you’ve shown up to hero galas and balls in the past, but since the gala was literally tomorrow, and you’ve delayed getting a dress to this point, it was impossible to go for another fitting.
“y/n, have you got the signed files- whoa.”
you meet bakugou’s fiery gaze in the mirror, turning around to greet him with a shy smile, somewhat embarrassed that he showed up at the exact moment you were all dressed up. immediately, you try to play it cool but scolded yourself internally for ignoring the gut feeling that someone would walk in whilst you were trying on your outfit- you just did not preempt for it to be the most attractive man in the building. 
“uh yeah, i actually do have them. what do you need them for?” you ask, shyly using your hands to cover some parts of yourself despite bakugou already having seen a lot of your skin because of accidents and injuries on missions. 
“i gotta send them off to deku’s agency,” he mutters, keeping his gaze low as he treks over to your desk. if you weren’t too caught up in your own feelings of humiliation, you would’ve seen the way his ears flared red, the tint spreading to his cheeks.
then you suddenly blurt out a question for him. “do you think i look good?” 
you meet his gaze in the mirror again, subtly feeling a part of you swell in pride at the way his eyes rake over your figure.
“you look amazing. is the dress for tomorrow?” he begins to approach you, stopping when he’s right behind you. 
“yeah. i don’t really like it that much.”
“don’t be ridiculous. you’re a sight to behold.”
“thank you,” you mutter half-heartedly, lips twisting with uncertainty. giving bakugou the necklace in your hands that complimented the bracelets you adorned, he immediately understands the message. you try not to react when his warm hands come in contact with your neck. “i just don’t think this outfit is flattering though.”
with nimble fingers, he clasps the chain successfully. “why?” 
“the colour, the shape, it doesn’t feel right, and i really hate it. i would go out and try to buy another dress but there’s so little time, every appointment is booked because i was stupid enough to avoid getting-”
a kiss behind your ear silences you effortlessly and you feel your breath being stolen when notice bakugou craning his neck down to meet your height. 
“calm down, you’re beginning to ramble,” he whispers and you just stare at him with an agape mouth, something that causes him to smirk. then, his hands find their purchase on your waist and it takes a lot of your resolve to not melt into his warmth.
ever since the daring kiss you shared on the mission, bakugou’s been less and less conservative about the affection he shows you. from openly admiring you when having lunch in the agency cafeteria, to manhandling you freely, to leaving kisses, you don’t know if your heart can keep up with his sudden change in behaviour.
worst part is, you can’t tell if it means anything to him like it does to you.
bakugou is japan’s most desired bachelor. maybe apart from his attitude, there is no public figure adored more than the blond who is standing right behind you. he’s always been known to do things his own way. no rules or preconceived notions can hold him back from doing what he wants. perhaps his shamelessness is a new symbol of how comfortable he is around you, 
you just wish it could be something more; something more… intimate.
but you could never reach bakugou, could you?
“i think you look beautiful but my opinion doesn’t matter. you want a new dress?” asks the blond and you nod wordlessly. “i know a place. let me give them a call, owner won’t ever say no to me after i saved her from her. got so many last minute pieces from her store. i’ll cover the bill too, just make sure you like what you wear.” 
he walks away with new swagger in his stride and you can only stare after him, dumbfounded. 
well, at least your problems were solved. 
bakugou might become a new problem. 
# FOUR ! - the kiss of adoration. 
the nerves in the limousine were uncontainable. as your sidekicks chattered amongst themselves, trying to rid any anxieties for the long night ahead, you couldn’t help but recall your first gala a few years ago. a celebration to commemorate the heroes of japan and everything they do for the peace and safety was always a big deal.
however, having done this several times ever since graduating from U.A few years ago, there’s little for you to be nervous about.
funny that you were only a few years older than your youngest sidekick (who was 18 years old), yet you were already exhausted by all the extravaganza and decorum. 
as the limousine approaches the drop off area where all the paparazzi were waiting, it didn’t take long for a tremendous tattle of inaudible words and shouts to erupt from them given that the windows were not totally tinted, meaning they could identify who was inside. being one of the biggest hero agencies would have this effect, especially when you were representing the name of #2 himself. but, even if it wasn’t bakugou stepping out of the car himself, your rank still placed you remarkably in the greedy eyes of the public.
as your sidekicks file out one by one, with camera flashes practically every millisecond, the hype only worsens when you emerge.
the paparazzi are respectful enough to avoid the path where heroes were walking by and as you wave, smile, and bow to all of them, compliments of how stunning you looked and shouts of ‘look here!’ all faded into the crowd. then, you made it out.
“well, if it isn’t y/n,” a familiar, baritone calls out from behind you. 
at the sight of a kind, smiling face, you can’t help your grin from breaking out. “shouto. to what do i owe the honour?”
“no need to be so formal with me,” your dual-quirked friend says with open arms, ones that you rush into quite eagerly. shouto always gave such welcoming hugs, you’ve been weak to them since second year of u.a. you ignore the camera flashes in your direction. “i’m just happy to see you here tonight.”
“i’m happy to see you too.”
“knowing you, you probably want to escape from here as soon as possible through any means possible.”
“you are correct.”
“i hope you have room for another escapee.”
his questions causes you to recall fondly to the many galas and events both you and todoroki slipped out of- a feat easier said than done, especially when people are constantly on the look out for their top heroes. 
“i don’t know, i like to go solo,” you say with faux contemplation, “but you’re the only exception.”
“well, i’m honoured, especially since you look gorgeous tonight. your outfit is beautiful,” compliments todoroki before grabbing your hand to spin you around, an action you comply with readily and has you both chuckling to yourselves.
“thank you, shouto. you look irresistible as always.”
before he can reply, a familiar mop of green hair joins both yours and todoroki’s side and when you turn to see the face of the newcomer, midoriya’s smiling and bright expression greets you. he immediately forgoes all greetings. 
“y/n! you look like you came from a runway,” midoriya marvels before embracing you in a side hug, repeating the same action to the half-and-half hero in front of you. “stunning as always. you too, todoroki!”
you wave his compliment off, flattered at his honesty. “thank you, midoriya. i only managed to pull this look together yesterday if i’m being completely real,” you say with a small chuckle, “but you look very handsome tonight. love this suit, the colour fits you well!”
todoroki nods, “i agree with y/n, and, congratulations on your agency’s latest partnership.” 
“thank you! i’m excited to see what will come from it, hopefully a lot of good things because-”
“oi, cut it with the rambling, nerd!” 
ah, there he is. you never could really miss bakugou’s presence.
“you’re already beginning to soil my night,” the blond continues when he emerges from behind midoriya. they’ve grown to about the same height now, with midoriya still two centimetres or so shorter than bakugou, but it’s always funny to see how the latter acts as if he’s all big and intimidating (as if todoroki isn’t taller than him). 
“ah, kacchan!” midoriya greets, making room for the blond to fit in the circle as kirishima trails behind him. 
as soon as the red-haired notices you, he gawks, mouth and eyes wide. “y/n!” exclaims the hardening hero. “looking gorgeous, man!.”
“that’s what we all said,” todoroki deadpans and you feel a little flustered from all the eyes on you- especially with the addition of a certain crimson pair. “should we all head in now? the paparazzi is getting on my nerves.”
“sure,” agrees deku, who turns to you with an extended arm. “need any help?”
you’re about to take his offer and hold on before he’s unceremoniously pushed to the side by bakugou, who offers you his arm instead with a mean look directed to midoriya. a glance of knowing is shared amongst the rest of your former classmates as they all make their way up the stairs.
“i thought midoriya was perfectly capable of helping me himself,” you chuckle before latching on to his forearm. 
bakugou scoffs. “not as capable as me.”
“sure, because only the great, pro-hero dynamight can help me up the stairs.” 
“damn straight.” his pride is undeniably endearing, even if it’s a little pointless at times. 
as he guides you up the stairs, your heart flutters a little at the way he holds you so delicately, all of his attention directed upon you and your safety. when you reach the top, you’re about to enter the ball room and let go of bakugou to talk to more people, but it seems like the blond has other plans.
with a small tug, you’re directed back to him, about to collide with his chest until a hand on your hips stops your momentum.
“the stylist i gave you worked, huh?” he whispers lowly.
“yes she did. you really saved me,” you respond, feeling your heart skip a beat at the way his eyes rake over your body for a moment before he’s meeting your gaze again. “you think i look good?”
“i think you look fuckin’ breathtaking.”
you keen at his authentic compliment, trying not to let him see how it effected you. “well, this is all thanks to you so i owe you- money wise and everything else.” 
“you can repay me by bein’ my date for the night,” he suggests, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb before bringing it up to his lips, placing a delicate kiss there as he maintains eye contact.
you gulp, agreeing before you can even think about the magnitude of his question.
“you with me? you seem a little far away,” asks bakugou. far away was just the beginning of it.
shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you nod wordlessly before grabbing his arm to pull him towards the bustling crowd of heroes. every group if briefly silenced when you and the explosive hero pass by, eyes lingering a little too long at the arm that bakugou has around your waist.
this feels surreal. 
he stands behind you like an intimidating shadow as you both speak to a range of people from support tech ambassadors, business consultants, aspiring heroes and sponsors- a crowd that only grows with the years you’ve been working in the industry. 
surprisingly, no one is brave enough to question what is happening between you and bakugou upfront. 
eventually, everyone moves into a separate hall where dinner would be served. since you and bakugou were representing the same agency, your names were already on the same table. when realising that you were seated across from him, he scowls and shamelessly swaps the tags around, not at all remorseful when he sits down on his assigned seat and pats the vacant spot next to him. with an eye roll, you oblige dutifully. 
“hold still,” you command the blond before reaching over to fix his tie, tightening it and aligning it properly before sitting back in satisfaction at your efforts. “there. handsome and proper.”
“handsome, huh?” bakugou teases with a shit-eating grin and you scoff, pushing his face away jokingly. you mutter an unimpressed ‘whatever’, ignoring the laughter that rips from the blond. 
moving the conversation along, you sit up in your seat a little bit. “did you see who was sitting at our table when you moved everything around?”
“just a bunch of old geezers. there’s that one marketing manager of some support gear business who kept bugging me last year to consider partnering with him,” he scoffs. 
“your luck, huh?” 
“fuck off, i’m just gonna ignore him for the whole night.”
“sure, do whatever you want, big guy.”
“i will. these extras don’t matter when i’ve already hired all the best in their industries. you’re my first example of that.”
your heart flutters at his recognition, about to respond with a quip when all of a sudden, your table guests materialise in front of you. all of them take their respective seats, settling down with formal greetings as you adjust yourself as well. only bakugou was unmoving, leaning against the back of his chair whilst merely staring every down as they appeared; an attitude very in character for him.
the night goes along rather smoothly. you do majority of the talking, forcing bakugou to respond and answer questions here and there, which he begrudgingly does. at least the people that were on your table were talkative themselves and could converse amongst themselves, leaving you with enough mental space to not solely concentrate on the way the explosion hero was holding your hand under the table.
the occasional caresses he placed along the back of it was enough to slowly drive you insane. he was being really shameless about the whole physical affection ordeal. 
he acts similar to that a boyfriend should and the canniness has made you woozy. so much so that it strains your throat to breathe, hurts your heart to think about and makes your whole being itch with want.
what cemented your doom was the way he was willing to swap your plate with his if yours was a dish you didn’t like. he would offer to take the ingredients you weren’t fond of and give you the ones on his plate that you were. as if that wasn’t the most endearing thing he could do this evening, he would tell you that there’s food around your mouth before wiping it away. you owe a ‘thank you’ to mitsuki and masaru for raising him to be like this. 
when the final dish of dinner was served, many jumped from their seats with the opportunity to mingle around; something that occurred at your table too to your relief. as the representatives all place their business cards in front of you, you farewell them with a friendly smile before slipping the small slips into bakugou’s shirt pocket, something he allows you to do.
“dynamight,” an authoritative voice comes from behind and when you both turn around to see who the instigator is, you’re a little surprised to see a well-dressed man in proper business man attire. he resembled tony stark- even down to his goatee and moustache. “pleasure to meet you. my name is yuu noguchi and i am a specialist in support gear. may i have a second of your time?” 
your eyes widen in recognition at the name. the man standing in front of you was currently one of the most desired support gear directors in the industry and apparently, had the skills to benefit almost every hero, no matter how difficult their requests were. it was thanks to his quirk, something about limitless intelligence.
so it wasn’t only because of the tony stark resemblance that you recognised him. 
bakugou glances at you, inquiring for your approval which you give by ushering him out of his seat. as you watch him strut away with the yuu beside him, you can’t help but feel relieved because now your heart could have a chance to calm down and give your lungs a moment to breathe.
“am i right to assume that you and mr bakugou are an item?” comes a voice from your left.
it’s the old geezer your date was complaining about earlier. somehow he sneaked his way from across the table to right next to you, leaning over now-empty plates of food as he gives you a look that shakes you to your core. not in the good way that bakugou can do.
“only for the night,” comes your curt reply. “i am his date to this gala.” 
“fascinating.”
“what you find so interesting about that?”
“perhaps you’d rather i not say, but, to be truthful, my theory has been plaguing my mind all night.”
raising an eyebrow at him was his only indication that you wish for him to expand on his point.
he obliges. “well, you of course know about dynamite’s competitive spirit, and how he has been constantly battling deku in all realms of hero work? rankings, the amount of employees, even popularity.”
was mentioning midoriya necessary? their past history has never been the cleanest, and although you knew bakugou wished he could have a clean slate with the one for all user, sometimes their relationship brought a little awkwardness to conversations.
“i cannot help but assume that, in order to pass deku once again, he is using you to his advantage?”
you can’t help exposing your emotions through your microexpressions; something he catches onto. 
bakugou? using you? 
“right now deku is the hottest talk of the hero world with his latest partnership because of all the humanitarian advocacy he is partaking in. he’s gaining a lot of fans too. perhaps bakugou’s only way of upstaging midoriya is by using his well-liked status to the public a juicy scoop on his potential, new relationship, especially with one of japan’s favourite heroes. no doubt it will boost his name in the media, and give him a momentary push over the edge.”
you narrow your eyes at what his suggestion and although it pained you to admit, it had some credibility behind it. it even justified why bakugou has been acting weirdly attentive with you, and if you recalled properly, his sudden change in behaviour began around the news of midoriya’s initiative. 
but he’s not like that, right? your relationship can’t be reduced to simply article headlines and traction… right?
“that’s just my take as a specialist in the hero industry, specifically when it comes to brand and image,” the man ends, placing his hands on the table before standing up. “i hope the rest of the night treats you splendidly.”
when he waddles away, you’re left sitting at the same, empty tables. whilst the exterior may seem relaxed and collected, a whirlpool of thoughts erupt within, your thoughts jumbling and fumbling over one another.
without thinking, you end up at a table marked by todoroki’s agency logo, desperately searching for your dual-haired friend. in your haste, you didn’t preempt knocking into a body with hardened muscles and when you look up to see who was the glorified wall, you breathe a sigh of relief when it’s todoroki’s concerned face you see.
maybe fate was kind to you tonight.
“something wrong, y/n?” he asks in that caring tone of his.
“yes,” comes your quick and frantic reply. todoroki sees right through that frazzled expression of yours.
“is it bakugou?”
“yes- can we get out of here? i don’t care about propriety right now.”
“hold on, don’t get too ahead of yourself. the media will have a storm if they see us together after you’ve been accompanying dynamight the whole night.” 
“you’re right.” you’re could get a headache from simply imagining the repercussions you’re going to go through with your pr team if todoroki didn’t have his head on his shoulders. “do you have any solutions?”
“i could cause a fire and start an evacuation?”
“you’re ridiculous.”
“i was kidding. there is an authorised only back door escape near the bathrooms. i think it leads to the back of the building. does that sound better?”
“much. thank you, todoroki, i really appreciate it.”
“no problem. i’m looking forward to having a gossip ‘sesh’ about bakugou.”
you snort unceremoniously, amused by him and his deliberate choice of trendy language. if he was trying to cheer you up, it was working. 
following his instructions, you are more than relieved to see that the back door did indeed, lead to the back gardens of the site where gala was held. if you were correct, the parking lot for chauffeurs would be on the right side. 
minutes later, you find yourself ranting to todoroki, taking it from the whole beginning and recounting every, minute detail of the journey.
“-and then we kissed during our stealth mission which only made it worse because then i realised i was flipping in love with him!”
“only just then?” asks todoroki with a questioning look. 
“look, i had the hots for him in third year because of his growth spurt, i didn’t like him so don’t give me that look,” you justify, silencing him with a finger in his face. “anyways-”
“-is bakugou a good kisser?”
you press your lips together, unsure of how to answer without sounding ridiculous but really, your silence was the answer todoroki needed. he tilts his head to the side slightly, entertained by your sudden flustered behaviour before redirecting one hundred percent of his attention back your direction.
“find out yourself,” you finally quip. despite how delayed your comeback was, the half-and-half pro-hero still laughs. “so after that mission, bakugou’s been acting weird with me ever since. everything he’s been doing is just so unlike him. i find him staring at me from time to time and when i catch him, he doesn’t look away, just does that stupid, smug smirk of his! he’s been more handsy, and, this is the most confusing part.” 
“yesterday, i didn’t have an adequate outfit for tonight’s gala. i had something planned but it just wasn’t right and i was really down about it. well, bakugou walked in my office when i was trying it on-”
“-couldn’t you have done that at home?”
“shouto. come on. i was planning to go straight from work to the gala because the grind never stops, you know this. so i was trying it on and i was telling him that i didn’t like my outfit at all and then he kissed me on the back of my ear,” you explain, vividly using your hands to help your story. 
the way todoroki’s eyes widen a little makes you feel better that you have someone else also astounded by bakugou’s boldness. “he… kissed… your ear?”
“yes!”
“why your ear?”
“i don’t know, shouto!”
“but why did he kiss you?”
“i don’t know, shouto! that’s not something friends or coworkers do to one another.”
“right. i would never kiss your ear. or you.”
“i would never kiss you either, which confuses me so much as to why bakugou did that! and then he referred me to a personal stylist- who was amazing, i will absolutely be returning to her again- and when i showed up at the gala, he was just acting so… off!”
“like how he pulled you away from midoriya.”
“precisely! it got worse because when we arrived at the entrance, i was about to enter but then he stopped me by pulling my hand, which he then proceeded to kiss!” you exclaim animatedly, gesturing to the same hand. “then he asked me to be his date!”
“that’s odd. why not ask you in advance?”
“right?”
todoroki hums in contemplation for a second, furrowing his eyebrows as he thinks- a habit he has not rid of since u.a. “if i was going to be honest y/n, i was about to say my theory is that bakugou has a crush on you, but asking you to be his date tonight? it feels a little off to me.”
“why?”
“if he truly wanted you to accompany him to the gala, he would’ve asked beforehand. doing it tonight just feels a little… orchestrated, asking whilst you were all dressed up,” todoroki’s articulate words pierce you through the heart and you feel your chest deflate, understanding what he was saying. “i don’t want to assume anything of this because that is not in bakugou’s character, he’s never superficial about anything he does.”
you sigh, quietly muttering the next statement. “believe it or not you’re not the first person tonight telling me that bakugou has some ulterior motive with me.” 
your friend’s is taken aback, his hair jumping with his sudden movement. “who else?”
“some old, marketing guy from a support gear company that kept bothering bakugou at last year’s gala,” you huff, placing your chin on your hand as you fiddle with the bracelets adorning your wrist. “said something that really messed with my brain.”
“hm?”
now finding your nails a lot more interesting than your dual-quirk friend, you don’t think you can meet his eyes whilst repeating the embarrassing statement. 
“he said that since bakugou and midoriya have been rivals and competing against each other since they were young, bakugou was using me as a chance to one-up deku. especially because deku’s the hottest talk in the hero world right now because of that partnership. he thought that if i could stand and look pretty by bakugou’s side, it would boost his image and get him into the headlines,” you spit, sounding more aggressive with each word that leaves your mouth.
you want to punch a wall.
todoroki places a gentle hand on your shoulder, one that felt grounding and reassuring. kind.
“you’re more than just someone who can sit and look pretty,” he begins, “anyone who says otherwise is clearly stupid. you’re one of the top heroes in japan, simplifying your reputation to only benefit someone by being their date is offensive and incredibly ignorant.”
his assured words lifts your spirit a little, but there’s still that little bit of weight clasping at your ankles. “but what if bakugou doesn’t see it that way?” 
“then he’s an idiot.”
the laugh that escapes you makes your chest feel lighter; a remedy for the horrible emotions swirling in your gut. “you’re right. this is all just so frustrating,” you mutter into your palms. “i need to stop thinking about bakugou or i will obliterate him the next time i see him.”
todoroki huffs, entertained. “i don’t think you should hold any malice towards him. let the truth reveal itself, we’re both getting ahead of ourselves.”
“yeah,” you sigh before fishing for your phone. “please take photos of me, i look too good tonight to not post myself on instagram. i need a distraction from my wallowing.”
“as you wish.”
# FIVE ! - the kiss of confession. 
you did not take todoroki’s advice at all and instead, got ahead of yourself. the first day back to work since the gala, you began deliberately avoiding bakugou- as immature as that was.
it’s a task easier said than done because avoiding bakugou was really hard. like, really really hard. given that his office was literally right beside yours, it was hard to walk by his glass doors and pretend to not notice him in there, especially since he liked to weight lifts and walk around as he worked. you could probably draw bakugou’s build from heart with how many times you gawked at him as you passed by.
plus he’s the face of the wholeass agency, so. there’s that.
the only solution you fathomed was to pick up more patrols during work hours, leaving more often during the day to return exhausted and irritated at night whilst you dealt with office work. seeing your sour mood apparently was enough to turn bakugou- and everyone else, away. 
your assistant has booked you spa schedules for almost every weekend. multiple of them.
avoiding bakugou evolved from the root of two problems. the first one being the whole gala fiasco, the second one being that you genuinely don’t believe it’s good for your health if he kept acting as intimate as he had with you. however, the more you thought about it, you’re not even sure if he’d treat you the same way he did before the gala and you’re also not risking any chance of finding that out.
“you got another commission at downtown honei! join the cops in chasing down the assailant who claims to be ‘lava man’. police recommend to bring another hero,” a voice from your operator calls and you quickly reply with a ‘on it’. your first thought was ridiculing the villain name: ‘lava man’. wonder what his quirk was.
adjusting your hero gear as you walk out of your office, you run into the exact gorgeous face you’ve been avoiding. 
“y/n i need to- where are you going in such a hurry?” asks bakugou, scrunching his eyebrows upon noticing your haste. you continue walking past him and without thinking, he trails behind.
“commission. i’m going to get backup.”
“i can join-”
“-no, stay here. i’m calling kirishima on this one,” you say, sparing him a momentary glance to see a look of frustration appearing in his eyes. 
he looks like he’s bursting at the seams to say something, but the blond shoves all protests down and shouts out a ‘stay safe’ before you’re turning around the corner.
the commission is easy enough and you solved it before the clock could progress another hour. the hard part was that you kept receiving mission after mission, unable to catch a break to have some lunch or retreat to the agency when you had to keep reprimanding villains. seriously, why did they all unanimously pick today to be menaces to society?
your muscles were getting increasingly sore, your body was starting to feel the after effects of your quirk, and you were grumpy for how little time you got to rest. 
after reporting back your last commission for the day, you finally find some time to buy some food from your favourite ramen place. pathetically carrying the plastic bag all the way up to your office, you open the glass door with a grunt because of how much your body ached from one simple movement. you were going to be in even more pain tomorrow; maybe you should request a day off to see your physiotherapist. 
as you leant against the front of your desk to search for the contact of your trusted physiotherapist, you jump about 2 feet when the door to your office slams open, revealing a fuming bakugou.
blinking once, then twice in fear, you feel cornered.
“uh… can i help you?” comes your meek greeting.
“yeah you can fuckin’ help me!” he booms, crossing the floor to stand directly in front of you, face only a few inches away from yours. “mind telling me why you’ve been avoiding me ever since the gala? and why you didn’t respond to any of my texts since?”
you cringe at the mention of the texts. whilst you were complaining your heart out to todoroki, bakugou was asking where you went and why you didn’t tell him you were leaving. messed up move on your part, but it genuinely pained to even read his contact name, let alone send him a text to pretend like everything was okay.
now that he’s this close again, you realise just how much you’ve missed him.
your heart is doing laps again, and your arms suddenly itch with a desire to pull him close.
“don’t try to say something stupid like you haven’t been avoiding me, because you clearly have,” he scolds but the hurt in his eyes are very visible. it was time to just give him the truth, even if it still hurts you to think about.
with a sigh, you decide to surrender to your downfall through the form of a simple confession. 
“i like you.”
the tension in the room increases by tenfold. your lungs tighten from how suffocating his presence is, especially as he looms over you, allowing you no space to breathe.
then he does something incredibly unexpected: he kisses you. 
you feel your mind spinning and your heart picking up even more than you thought humanly possible. the way he curves himself around you is too much, the fire he ignites within your stomach, burning you from the inside out with his passion was too much, and the feeling of how desperately he was holding you against him was too much. he’s bleeding with love and need.
bakugou’s lips move against yours with a hint of urgency behind his actions, and you don’t have it in you to deny him. so, you fully give in to the unstoppable force of bakugou katsuki, allowing him to pick you up and seat you on your office desk.
somehow your hands end up tangled in his hair and his are roaming all over your body, unable to find purchase for even a millisecond as he commits learning you to memory.
you snap back to reality when a grunt of satisfaction slips past his mouth and into yours, causing you to abruptly jump back whilst simultaneously pushing him away. you miss his warmth already, grip steady on his shoulders to keep him away.
the look of hunger and yearning in bakugou’s eyes tells you that he’s not yet satisfied.
“hold on- stop- we need to discuss this-” you stammer before being cut off by the blond.
“-i have been waitin’ forever for this fucking moment. discussion over-”
“-no, bakugou-” you push his face away, even as he keeps inching forward, hands tugging your closer towards his toned body, “-katsuki.”
bakugou perks up at the mention of his given name, stopping his struggle completely. you only ever use it to capture his attention but he wishes that you would use it for more casual means rather than purposeful ones. it sounds so nice when you say it after all.
“i need a second to think,” you explain, rubbing your temples. 
“talk to me, pretty. i can only answer if you verbalise your thoughts.”
“so you genuinely like me? you’re not using me for, y’know, media rep and shit?”
the most flabbergasted, appalled, and astounded expression appears on bakugou’s face. he looks absolutely livid and you begin wondering why you ever assumed the things you did.
“the fuck?” comes his reply. “why the fuck would you think that? who the fuck made you think that?”
you feel small under his fiery gaze, unable to properly look him in the eye as you recount the conversation shared between you and the old, marketing representative of the support gear company. with each sentence bakugou’s scowl grows deeper.
one the story is over, you knew that you were in for a mouthful. in more ways than one. 
“that stinky, old geezer was why you were ignoring me? i thought i messed up or something, but this was because you actually listened to that extra? are you fuckin’ kidding me? i’ve been dyin’ because of you refused to even look at me and some asshole is the cause of that?” he asks. “i’m about to blow a bitch up-”
“-no, katsuki!”
would you look at that. he’s calm again.
“don’t do that. it’s my fault, i let him get to my head and suddenly some insecurities i didn’t even know i had started emerging. if it’s anyone that needs to apologise it’s me, i’m sorry for how i’ve been treating you after the gala, and for doubting you.”
“yeah you better be. don’t do this shit again,” the blond commands. “you really think that low of me that i’d use you to help my reputation?”
“i think it was moreso i thought really lowly of myself. to me, it didn’t make sense that you would ever be interested in me.” 
a beat passes. he flops himself against you again, letting you hold up majority of his weight. 
“you’re kiddin’, right? you’re a fuckin’ gem and i’ll kill anyone who won’t treat you like one because i just had the worst few days of my life from this bullshit,” he complains, burying himself into the juncture of your shoulder and your neck. 
the giggle of flattery escapes your lips before you can stop it, and you rub your hands soothingly along his spine before admitting a question that has plagued your mind ever since. “why’d you ask me to be your date at the gala and not beforehand?”
“i was nervous and chickened out every time i tried,” he confesses quietly, grumbling lowly into your skin. “when i saw you at the gala i swore i got a heart attack, and when that nerd almost swept you off your feet, i had to do something. i knew i’d lose you otherwise.”
“what, don’t want to lose to deku again?” you ask with a teasing tone. bakugou bites your skin. you yelp.
“watch your mouth.”
“you’ll be relieved to know that i don’t want anyone but you, katsuki.”
“ya sure?”
“i’ve been sure for a while.”
the blond laughs, murmuring a ‘you’re perfect. too good for me’ before connecting your lips again. you hum into him before muttering a ‘yeah i am’ against his mouth. it makes him smirk. 
when you part, you pat his shoulder as a sign of surrender. “i need to get to working on some files so if you don’t mind-”
as you try to shuffle off your table, bakugou stops you before your feet can even touch the ground. “are you kidding?” he challenges in an accusatory tone. “you’re not doing shit, you’ve been on commissions all day. have you even had a meal?”
“i just bought some ramen for myself,” you say whilst gesturing to the bag on your desk. 
he grumbles. “want me to warm it up?”
“no, it’s okay,” reaching around you to open the laptop sitting on your desk, bakugou’s quick to shut it close again.
“what part of ‘you’re not doing shit’ do you not understand? fuckin’ rest!”
life is a little surreal right now, especially with bakugou’s aggressively ambiguous way of nurturing people. then he grabs the noodles and rips opens the packaging, fishing for the chopsticks also provided before ripping that apart too. so shameless in everything he does, that’s a habit he’ll never lose, you suppose. 
you unknowingly smile when considering the prospect that bakugou’s shamelessness is something you have to deal with even more now.
a small cat fight erupts when you realise that the blond had full intentions of feeding you the ramen himself and your dignity refused to let him. he eventually coaxed you by saying he’ll take your commissions for the next three days and the soreness of your muscles found the deal a little too tempting. with a huff, you give in.
“ramen smells good,” he comments absentmindedly.
“it’s my favourite place. not too far away. we should go someday,” you say in between mouthfuls.
he scoffs in dismissal but the pink tint of his ears contrast his reluctant attitude. “it better not let me down.” 
you stop for a second, grabbing your phone and searching through your contacts again. “i need to book a session with my physiotherapist.” 
“why?”
“she gives the best massages and my body is so sore right now.”
“i think i can help with that.”
“really?”
“don’t underestimate me,” bakugou says, paired with a wink. you can’t help but assume there’s a not-so-innocent undertone to his intentions, especially with the way he smirks. “i could help you relax in more ways than one.”
goodness, were you in for a ride.
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gglitch1dd · 10 months
Text
The Contract Pt1
Context: When you broke up with Katsuki, you thought it was the end for you. No marriage. No family. No white picket fence. You had spent so much time on Katsuki and now it all just fell to the wind. But what if a certain green haired hero offered you a contract, offered you the dream life of security and happiness all for the small price of being his wife? Love wasn’t in the plan but maybe it was in the fine print.
Basically: Reader dumps Katsuki and goes for Izuku.
Main Pairing: Midoriya Izuku x Reader
<Masterlist> <PART 2>
Warning: Infidelity, Cheating, brief MxM smut, burning buildings, Izuku being superman for like 5 seconds, tension, angst, comfort
If anyone would have asked you if you were ever insecure of your relationship with Bakugou Katsuki, you would have said no. You would have actually laughed in their face for ever suggesting such a thing. For ever suggesting for a second that your Bakugou, your Katsuki, would ever cheat on you. That he would ever have eyes for anyone other than you. That he would ever find solace in someone else’s touch that wasn’t you.
Because Bakugou Katsuki was not a cheater.
He was a loyal and faithful man.
Or... that’s what you would have told yourself five minutes ago.
Now you weren’t entirely sure what to expect.
You had come back a few hours early from your abroad trip. You worked with the Hero Commission in media, specifically as a non-hero face for the media. A spokesperson for heroes and a correspondent and representative for the Hero Commission. It was a very stable job, very good pay, access to the elite life. It was all you could have imagined.
It was actually how you met Bakugou. He was an upcoming sidekick that had just exited out of UA with the rest of his classmates with a bang, and you were tasked with getting acquainted with them and getting close to them. It wasn’t really that hard. Most of them were pretty extroverted individuals. All you really had to do was bump into a pink woman and a man with electric blond hair and suddenly you were all friends. What came with knowing the upcoming sidekicks at the time, closer than others, also come with the territory of defending them from the media and speaking on their behalf.
You made them look good. You sold everything for them. You yourself were a predominant face in the media for the commission so you did it more than just out of the job but having known how it felt under that spotlight.
But then you met Bakugou. Bakugou was someone you never thought you would get close to. He was brash. He was annoying. He was a stuck up, over confident swine. Yet he captured your heart with those crimson eyes of his and suddenly you couldn’t even feel the ground underneath your feet. He swepped you up in his upcoming world and you let him. He was the now rising hero. The Number Two ProHero of all of Japan. And you were the non-hero face of the hero commission, an agent that specialised in the UA alumni that had took Japan by storm.
The two of you made a fantastic couple, outdoors and indoors. You managed to gravitate around each other like no one else could.
You gave him close to over six years of your life. You supported him, watched him rise in the ranks and as a hero and as a man. You did everything for him that you could. You patched him up after fights. You defended him in front of the media, in front of the commission. You would have given him both your kidneys if it meant that he would be alive and he would stay by your side. If he would be the man you knew who cooked and cleaned for you. The man who would die for you. The man that would burn the world in a fury of explosions just to see you smile.
You couldn’t understand how after all that, you could find him fucking his best friend. Your best friend.
Actually, to be more accurate, best friend was fucking him.
And by the looks and sounds of it, he was doing a pretty damn good job.
You stood in the doorway frozen in place. You weren’t sure where to look or if you even wanted to look. Your current boyfriend of six years, the Number Two ProHero Dynamight, was being forced face first into your black silk covers on your bed as his bestfriend, your best friend, the Number Six ProHero Red Riot was pounding him from behind.
Now if you had any less self respect, you might have found this hot. Actually, it was hot. Hearing your boyfriend cry out, whimpering as he could barely breathe, his cheeks puffy... well it was something you had thought about late at night more than once. However, you do have enough self respect to notice the big elephant in the room.
Your boyfriend was cheating on you.
You dropped your bags instantly making sound, causing both ProHeroes to look up at you. You stood motionless as both sets of crimson eyes looked to you. You looked between both men. “What... the... fuck.” You let out quietly.
Bakugou was stiff in fear, his pupils shrinking as his crimson gaze was locked onto you. This was not supposed to happen. This was not supposed to be how it turned out. He was not supposed to be underneath Kirishima Eijiro with his monstrous cock stuffed inside of him as his gorgeous partner stood in the doorway in front of him. Or at least not in any of his sober thoughts, this was not supposed to happen.
“B-baby...” He started breathless as he pushed himself up with his hands. “I-I... I can explain... This isn’t what it looks like.”
You were still stuck in place. “Eijiro’s fucking you in the ass.” You stated clearly.
Bakugou paused. “Okay, it is. It is what it looks like but...” He elbowed Kirishima in the ribs shaking the now pale redhead out of his stoic dissociation of this whole moment. Quickly Kirishima got off of him and Bakugou slipped to the floor grabbing his boxers. He hopped around for a second shoving his briefs on as if he wasn’t just being stuffed with dick a few seconds before.
You looked up at Kirishima. He couldn’t meet your gaze. The huge prohero, the strongest man you knew, he couldn’t look at you. His shoulders were tense as he looked down away from you. As he tried to bite down all the guilt he was feeling. His red locks of hair fell down around his face, attempting to hide him. You frowned. He was one of the most honest men you knew. He was your confidant, a man you could talk to about anything. The man who could hold you up and support you even better than your boyfriend sometimes. Well Ex boyfriend. And you know what he was doing now? He was banging your boyfriend behind your back.
You sighed. You picked up your suitcases and bags. “Goodbye, Katsuki.” You stated simply.
“Y/N, baby! Wait!” Bakugou raced over to you, tugging on your wrist forcing you to turn and face him. He looked confused, almost erratic. “I... I can explain.” You didn’t say anything at that. You just looked up at him emotionlessly. “I...” He felt as though there was a golf ball at the back of his throat. With you staring up at him like that, he wasn’t sure whether he could speak after all. “I know this isn’t what you want to come back to, but... it’s Eijiro. Eijiro the man we both love. I just... He’s my best friend and we’d liked each other for so long. It sort of just happened and I was planning on telling you-”
“How long has this been happening?” You interrupted him with the simple question.
He hesitated to answer you. You just looked at him hard. “A... A year.” Your eyes widened at the time span. “B-but the first time it happened, we didn’t even touch each other for like four months and-”
“Why?” Your eyebrows knitted together. You tried to comprehend it in your head but it wasn’t making sense to you. Bakugou paused at the question. He looked down away from you as he didn’t know exactly what to say to that. The blond had frustrated tears in his eyes as he glared down at the ground. “You could have talked to me.” You told him. “You could have said something and yet you said nothing. Nothing at all. You made me look like a fucking fool!” Your voice was starting to increase in volume as you glared up at him. “What even is this? Are you gay? You could have just told me.”
Bakugou closed his eyes. “I’m not gay.” He tried to clarify, but the look on your face said otherwise. “… not entirely.”
You just groaned in frustration. It was all so messy. All too messy. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t understand why he would do this. “Then what was this all for?” You asked him throwing your hands up in the air. “You made me look like a fool for what? Dick? So that you could finally have a piece of your best friend? What was it? Could I not satisfy you the way he can cause I don’t have a penis, is that why?”
His eyes closed almost pained with the assumption. “No...”
“THEN WHAT?” You shouted at him. “And you!” You pointed over to Kirishima who was walking to stand behind Bakugou. He shrunk back at your voice as he realised that you had noticed him come over. You turned your head to the side as you looked at him. “How could you?” You said pained and much quieter than if you were talking to Bakugou. Kirishima held back the tears as he still could not look at you. You dropped your shoulder as more sadness than anger filled you at the look of Kirishima in front of you. “You were one of my closest friends, Eijiro.”
“Y/N... I’m sorry.” He whispered. You scoffed almost in disbelief, looking to the side as your face scrunched up to one of disgust. He motioned to the man beside him. “We never intended to hurt you. We wanted to tell you of my feelings for the both of you, we really did but then... We...” He didn’t know how to explain it, looking off to the side. “I... We just...”
You sighed as you shook your head. You sniffed as you wiped your tears. “It doesn’t matter.” You let a tear slip down your face. You picked up your bags again. “I don’t care what the intentions were nor what the reason was. Fact of the matter is, Katsuki cheated. You both lied to me. I have enough self-respect for myself to know that I should never tolerate that, even if it’s from the both of you.” You whispered, looking up at them with such a hollow heartbroken expression.
Before you left you pulled off the promise ring that Bakugou gave you on your second year anniversary. The red diamond ring was one of your favourite gifts that he had given you. You slipped off the ring painfully. You took his hand and you placed it onto the palm of his hand. Bakugou froze at the gesture. The weight of the ring so heavy in his hand it felt like the weight of the world.
Bakugou expected to see you to at least look disappointed, sad, angry or some emotion that you were feeling when you had first arrived, but you showed nothing. Absolutely nothing. Your face just empty. “We’re done, Katsuki. I’ll send people to collect my things for me.” You turned around, dropping his hand and taking your bags. “Goodbye Katsuki. See you and Eijiro around. You’ll make a fantastic couple by the way.” You left out the door and you didn’t turn back.
That night you booked a hotel room, not wanting to bother any of your friends, mostly because they were also their friends too. You didn’t want to villainise them. You didn’t even think you wanted to think about them right now. You booked a room, went inside and allowed yourself to break down. The tears all came back flooding. As much as you loved Kirishima and Bakugou, you loved them so much in your heart, what they did wasn’t respectful to you. They could have told you. They could have been honest with you, but they snuck around. They lied to you.
You bawled your eyes until no more tears could flow, you cried so hard that your body forced to you to black out into an empty sleep and damn were you grateful for it. Nothing had felt better like nothingness. Like floating empty not having to see them together in your head.
When you had woken up, you weren’t sure what to do. You and Bakugou had been living together in his apartment for the past five years but now you were homeless. It wasn’t particularly hard for you to find a new apartment for the time being, you did work with the commission and that did have its perks. However, you weren’t even sure if you could do it right now. So you did the most spontaneous random thing you could do.
You left the country for the next two years.
“Dynamight!” One of his sidekicks called as they were escorting another civilian out of the burning apartment building that was in front of them. No one knows how it had gotten this bad. Why weren’t the heroes or the fire department notified earlier. It is what everyone wanted to know but no one got an answer to it.
Prohero Dynamight turned around to look to his sidekick. He was directing the chaos that was happening around the building. It wasn’t exactly how he wanted to spend his Friday night but when hero work calls, it calls. The fire was a blazing hot mess of heat. One could feel it from just standing outside. Bakugou himself was shocked that there could still be anyone else still left inside. Alive that is.
“The building is coming down sir!” The sidekick shouted pointing back to the apartment building.
Bakugou scowled as he heard the loud creaking of steel enforcements. It was so loud he could feel it in his chest, underneath his boots. “Clear the area!” He shouted. “I want no one near this thing if it comes down.” He turned to look at the sidekicks under him that all nodded and stuck to his orders. He put a finger to his earpiece. “How’s it looking Red?” He asked.
“There are still a few people missing.” Prohero Red Riot spoke over the comms. He was with some civilians in a safety zone, making sure the right people went to medical and others were kept warm for the night and received some assistance whether it be calling loved ones or finding their loved ones. “I’ve received some information that there’s someone missing who didn’t get out. I don’t know who it is.”
Bakugou’s scowl only deepened. Of course there was someone that was unaccounted for. He tried to think fast. He could fly in and check the higher levels with less fire but that in itself was dangerous. The fire department had already agreed with him and either putting out the fire or waiting for the building to come down. It wasn’t safe to send in their fighters anymore. Water was already being sprayed into the building from all sides and yet it only seemed to stay the same. He let out a sigh. He put a finger to his comms.
“Dynamight!” He turned his head to the chief of police. They had a finger pointed up to a higher level of the apartment.
Standing by a windows ledge was a civilian. They were coughing up a storm but they were holding something in thick towels. They tried waving down the people below but it was clear that they were heavily disorientated from the smoke and fire.
“Landing mat now!” Dynamight yelled, evoking more action.
He took one step, and everything was shaking underneath him. The ground was shaking and something was awfully wrong. Everyone quickly held something stable and secure. Bakugou looked up and then he saw them falling. For a split second it was almost as if time stopped itself. The civilian was out of the window and in the air. He took stand, his hands sparking.
Then like a jet something flew in the sky with a spark of light and fire exploded out of the building forcing everyone back. Bakugou raised an arm over his eyes as he forced himself to look up.
Floating down in front of the burning building that immitted light was the silhouette of a man with a cape on. Prohero Deku floated down from the sky like a gift from the heavens, a saviour sent by God himself,  his cape blowing behind him as he held the remaining civilian in his arms. He landed on the ground with a thud before turning his head up to look at everyone else. He quickly moved with the civilian in his arms towards an ambulance.
“I have a civilian here! Severe smoke inhalation from the looks of it, dehydrated and unconscious!” He shouted as he placed them down on a stretcher for the paramedics. The paramedics took the towelled bundled out of the civilian's arms. It was only then that Midoriya froze at the face of the civilian. Bakugou stormed over to Midoriya, questions on how the hell Midoriya got here, but then the green haired hero whispered a name Bakugou wasn’t expecting. “Y/N.”
Bakugou looked down in the light of the ambulance to see you with an oxygen mask on your face, barely breathing. Sweat lined your forehead and body, your clothes having areas soaked with it or with burnt marks. Midoriya held the bundle in his arms and then he felt something move in it. He took a step back, unfurling the bundle of towels. It was then that he froze. In the bundle of towels was a baby. A little baby boy who was on the brink of crying. Midoriya quickly dropped all the towels that weren’t necessary for keeping the little boy away from the fire and kept him in his blanket.
He shushed him quietly holding the baby to his chest tighter. “Hey there little guy.” He whispered with a smile on his face. “Sh... it’s okay. It’s okay.” He said softly. The baby started to calm down, moving his hands up towards Midoriya’s face. Midoriya’s smile broadened as he laughed lightly. He looked up at the paramedics, moving to pass the child to them. “Keep him with her. We don’t want to separate them.” He told them seriously. “Check him too, but she kept him wrapped in towels and he doesn't seem to have any burns or trouble breathing.” He reported as the little baby boy was handed over.
“Thank you, Deku, sir.” They nodded their head. They closed the ambulance with a loud bang and the ambulance roared to life. It’s siren going off as it drove away to the closest hospital.
Both proheroes stood in silence at everything going on around them for a moment. Midoriya sighed before turning to Bakugou. He folded his arms over his chest and looked to the blond explosion hero. “What’s the report, Dynamight?” He asked, skipping pleasantries to focus on the task at hand that was putting out the fire.
Bakugou was still looking off in the direction of where the ambulance had gone. He hadn’t seen you in years and here you were, back in Japan without a word or trace. It was shocked him to his core more than anything else. However, Bakugou didn’t have time to be shocked. Not when Deku was standing right next to him. His crimson gaze flicked to Midoriya. He scowled. “How did you get here, Deku?”
“I flew.”
“I thought you couldn’t fly.”
“I was floating in a constant direction,” Midoriya put a hand out flat to show Bakugou what he meant. “at a constant speed, uniform velocity by the way,” He clarified for Bakugou which only made the blond scowl. “Of 400 km per-”
Bakugou tsked. “I know what you mean, you damn nerd! I don’t need you reciting fucking physics to me. Why the hell are you here?” He asked motioning around them.
Midoriya’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Oh...” He dropped his shoulders. He motioned forward in front of him. “I was actually on my way heading home.” He informed the blond. “I had clocked out, but I saw Y/N and I thought, why not.” He shrugged honestly not thinking much about it.
Bakugou glared up at Midoriya with a scowl on his face. Anger bubbled inside him that Midoriya just so happened to be passing by and did his job for him. He wasn’t even on the clock and still doing hero work. It was something Bakugou hated about him. How effortless it was for him to be a hero, almost as if he wasn’t born with a handicap preventing him from being one in the first place. “You thought I couldn’t handle it.”
The green haired hero sighed as he brought a hand to his temple. Somehow, Midoriya was no where near surprised about that assumption. He was talking to Bakugou, and knowing him, he was always assuming something. He closed his eyes. He didn’t have the patience to deal with Bakugou Katsuki’s assumptions right now. Not when it was just after midnight and he had just had a 24 hour shift. “No, Dynamight. I knew you could handle it.” He clarified for the blond. “I just wanted to help.”
“Well-”
“Dynamight! I heard what happened, did you get the remaining civilian?” Red Riot spoke over the comms.
Bakugou paused. He put a finger to his ear and hummed. “Yah we did.” He looked away from one moment and suddenly with another big bang of air breaking around him and in another spark of light, Midoriya was gone. He had taken the opportunity to gratefully leave the angry explosive hero before the two of them would be stuck at each other all night. Bakugou rolled his eyes, annoyed at Midoriya. “She’s at a hospital.”
He heard Red Riot sigh in relief. “That’s good to hear.”
“Hey Red...” Bakugou looked back up at the building that was slowly loosing its flames. “It was Y/N... She was the civilian and… she had a baby with her...”
You were walking to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. It was late in the night and you had barely gotten any sleep. Nightmares had been plaguing you on the fire that had happened. It came to you in the dead of night, waking up to images of the fire still blazing in your head. You groaned as you took a bottle from the fridge, a hand to your temple as you did so. You moved to lean against the counter for a moment, trying to think.
A knock sounded.
You perked up at the sound. It was the dead of night, just to three a.m and there was a knock at your door. “Well this is one way to die.” You grumbled as you pushed off the counter and walked out of your kitchen. Before you could even get to the front door, you saw someone standing on your balcony. Eyebrows furrowing, you went over to the door of your balcony and upon closer inspection saw someone. Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Midoriya?” You opened the door, allowing fresh cool air in.
“Good evening.” Midoriya spoke with a small smile as he stood in your doorway, his hero uniform still on him.
You looked at him blankly for a moment. “It’s two a.m.”
“Uh... Good morning?” He said with a more embarrassed smile now.
You tried to bite back a chuckle. You shook your head. “Morning Midoriya, what are you doing here?” You asked him, leaning against the glass door of your balcony entrance way.
“I wanted to check in on you.” He spoke honestly. “The hospital had said they discharged you but I was worried. I wanted to check in on you the day after but then I got busy, and it slipped my mind. I’m sorry if I woke you up, it wasn’t very considerate of me to come knocking on your balcony door in the middle of the night.” He motioned to the night sky above.
You chuckled and shook your head. “No it’s alright. It’s... its sweet of you. Thank you.” You motioned for him to come in. “Uh... please.” He stepped inside, stepping past you. It was then you remembered just how large Midoriya was now. His size was something he had gained much of after U.A. He was packed with thick muscle now and tall. However, he still had that layer of cute baby fat to his face (primarily his cheeks). He stepped in looking around your dark apartment. You kept it styled to your liking but still had that space that told him that it was on the higher end of accommodation. “Sorry, I didn’t know I would be expecting such esteemed company...” You chuckled as you tried not to die in embarrassment at the coffee mugs on the table.
Midoriya chuckled shaking his head. “No please. It’s fine. I came in unannounced.” He reminded you. He looked around in interest at your space. “I didn’t know you were back in the country.”
You nodded your head. “Yah... I’ve actually been here for the past half a year. I’ve just been on the lowkey, doing work from home and things like that.” You informed him as you grabbed your cup of water and leaned against your couch.
“Ah, I see. Well...” He turned to look back at you. “I’m glad that you’re back.” He told you with a smile to his face, genuine. “It’s been...” He tried to think of a word. “Interesting without you here.”
You hummed. A sort of silence settled between the two of you, both of you thinking for just a moment. You cleared your throat. “I see work still treating you well. You’re still number one.” You pointed out.
Midoriya chuckled nodding his head. “Yah...” He scratched the back of his head. “It’s the workaholic in me.” He motioned to your couch, asking for permission to sit down. You nodded your head, letting him do as he pleased. He sighed at finally being able to relax for a moment. You watched his thick body of hard earned muscle relax on your couch as  he threw his head back for a second, a thick neck and sharp jaw on display. “Just constant work and responsibilities. Meetings here, patrol there, galas and dinners on the side. It gets...” He let out a small yawn, covering his mouth with one hand. “It’s tiring.” He sighed. He turned his head to look back up to you. “So how’s your son?”
Now that caught you off guard. You raised an eyebrow. “My son?” You asked him with a raised eyebrow. You weren’t sure what he was referring to.
“Oh I’m sorry, are they a girl?” He asked raising his head off the back of your couch. “I couldn’t really tell when I held them, I was just assuming.” He apologised.
You just blinked at him confused. You tilted your head to the side. “I don’t have any children.” You told him slowly. Midoriya looked back at you confused. He sat up, and put a hand to his chin. He wondered if the baby was all a figment of his imagination. Maybe he really did need sleep. You looked to the coffee table when something caught your eye. That’s when you understood what the misunderstanding was. You let out a chuckle in amusement that took Midoriya’s attention. You walked over to stand in front of the coffee table. You picked up the newspaper and faced him. An image of him on that night of the fire carrying you and the baby you were holding in his arms as he flew down from the burning apartment building. “This baby?” You asked pointing to the image.
“Yah...” He said confused. His eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t that yours and K-kacchan's? Isn’t that the reason you left?” He asked carefully and slowly. He didn’t want to seem too intrusive and pry too much.
At the mention of your ex, your face scrunched up and you shook your head quickly denying it. “Oh God no.” You chuckled. “No, the baby isn’t Katsuki’s. The boy isn’t even mine.” You revealed to Midoriya making his eyebrows raise up in surprise. “Although...” You put down the newspaper. “I wish he was. It would make things much less lonely.” You let out a small piece of how you were feeling before quickly pushing it to the side. “No, I was baby and house sitting for a friend. She had gone on a business trip and entrusted me with her son.”
“Oh... oh...” Midoriya put his hands to his face as his cheeks went pink in embarrassment. Even as an adult he never really shook off how easily he could turn pink in the face. He groaned as he bent forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to assume.” He apologised to you quickly only making you giggle. He dropped his hands from his face and sat up. “It’s just that, no one really knew why you and Kacchan broke up and after the whole finding you in a burning apartment with baby thing, I wasn’t the only one to assume that it was the case. Shoto is actually about to lose a whole lot of money come to think of it. I told him not to make those bets on that theory-”
“Excuse me?”
“Hm?” Midoriya looked up at you with bright green sparkling eyes almost as if he hadn’t said anything at all.
You glared down at him, knowing he was silently gaslighting you into believing so. You huffed. You looked away from him to look down at the newspaper for a second. Midoriya’s façade broke for just a moment, an amused smirk on his face before your eyes flicked up and there was a look of interest and care. “As I was saying, there wouldn’t be a problem if you did have a kid. Which is totally fine. There’s nothing wrong with having a child. Not that I’m insinuating that there is something wrong with having a child. Hell, I love kids. I would love to have children of my own. It would actually make my mother very happy. She’s been on my case about settling down and in all honest, its harder than it looks. I was just confused when I saw the baby and-”
You watched him amusedly as he rambled off like a train. His words were going a mile a minute and he seemed stuck in his own world for a moment. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to see how long he would go on for or you should interrupt him. You chuckled. “Midoriya.”
He quickly closed his mouth as he looked up to you realising that he went off. He dropped his head in apology. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to go off like that.”
You just laughed it off. “It’s alright. Really. Although you should tell everyone, especially Shoto,” You popped your own smirk for a second, a spark coming to his eye before you turned back to a serious expression. “that that isn’t the reason why I left Katsuki.” You revealed to him as you turned around to go back to the kitchen. “Want coffee?” You asked him.
Midoriya chuckled as he stood up from your couch. “It’s two in the morning.” He reminded you. He picked up the empty mugs on the table and followed you into your kitchen.
You turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “And?”
He paused for a second and for one of the rare moments that you had known Midoriya you saw a dark hint of mischief in his eyes. Amusement mixed with something else entirely. He chuckled and nodded his head towards you. “I’d love a cup.” He assured you. He put the mugs in your sink and then proceeded to take off his thick white gloves right as you put on the kettle.
You quickly kicked off the counter. “It’s okay, Midoriya. I can wash those.” You tried to get to the dishes as you reached beside him.
“Nope.” Without warning, you were hoisted up easily. You let out a short yelp at that. He picked you up so easily it made you feel concerned. He hoisted you on top of your counter, keeping you there. He gave you a pointed look. “You are going to sit here and wait for the water to boil. I am an unwanted guest who has to atone by washing your dishes.” He gave you a genuine smile. “Really. It’s okay. I like washing dishes.” You were speechless as you watched him turn around. He put his gloves to the side and reached back to pull down his hero suit. You watched wordlessly as he pulled off his sleeves wrapping them around his midsection before setting to work on your mugs. You fought back the heat that creeped up your neck at how you were faced with the sculpted image of his back. Few scars littered it but it was a mesmerising site. Hard earned muscle, broad shoulders with a slenderer waist exposed to you so easily.
You quickly looked down away from him. You really had been alone for too long. You cleared your throat. “I prefer laundry.” You told him, trying to distract yourself. “I find it calming in a sense.” You reached back behind you to the cupboard to fetch two mugs. You eyed the Dynamight mug that you never had the heart to throw away. You frowned. You picked up two plain mugs and brought them down to the counter you were sitting on. “I didn’t know Mr Number One washed his own dishes.” You teased.
Midoriya froze for a second. He thanked the heavens that you couldn’t see his facial expression the else you might have seen the way he nearly rolled his eyes back. He closed his eyes and took a breath before forcing a smile at your statement. He shrugged. “I love to do it when I can, but the commission prefers sending housekeeping to my apartment, so it depends whether I’m lucky or not.” He told you honestly, as he busied himself in the mugs and plate that was in your sink.
“Oh so ProHero Deku doesn’t have some budding housewife waiting for him back home? I’m scared I might be taking someone else’s time.”
He scoffed and shook his head. “Nope. You aren’t taking anyone’s time. It’s... it’s just me.” He told you a bit more quieter than he was originally.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you leaned forward slightly. “Weren’t you and Uravity a thing?” You slid off the counter noticing the kettle calm down. You grabbed the coffee and sugar as you started making the two of you coffee.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “Nothing more than...” He hesitated as he turned his head slightly. He tried to find the right way to put it. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment before turning to focus back on the dishes properly. “Friends with benefits, so to speak.”
Your eyebrows raised in surprise at that. Midoriya in your eyes had never seemed like the type to dabble in one night company. He only took people he was interested into Hero Galas and if not it was a close partner or no one at all. “Oh? I didn’t know you fucked around, Midoriya.” You teased as you mixed the coffee and sugar within the mugs. “What’s your type? Brunettes?”
He chuckled as he shook his head. “I don’t have a specific type and I don’t fuck around.” He finished putting the last mug on the drying stand. “Not entirely.” He turned back to look at you. You stood in front of him with a waiting hot cup of coffee. He lowered his shoulders and smiled as he gratefully took it out of your hands. His large hands brushing against yours and consuming the cup more than you thought it would. “Thank you.” He motioned towards you with the mug in hand. “One-night stands and those type of relationships aren’t really my thing.” He told you honestly with a shrug.
You both stood opposite each other, leaning against the counters. You enjoyed the warmness of the coffee as you looked back up at him. “Ever consider becoming a sugar daddy?” You asked him.
Midoriya nearly choked on his coffee. You let out a laugh at his reaction as he quickly cleared his throat. He looked up at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on his lips, he glanced down at his coffee before flicking his heated gaze up to you. He decided to entertain you. “What? Are you interested?” He asked you.
Your eyes moved up to him again as you lowered your mug from your lips. You looked to the side with a scoff as you leaned back. “What makes you assume that?”
He shrugged. “Why else would you be asking?”
You looked him up and down wondering if this was him teasing you back. “You are aware that you are the one who came knocking on my door in the middle of the night, right?”
“Yes.” Midoriya sighed as he looked up for a moment. His eyes went back to you, dark green eyes that held something more intense than you thought you could have found there. His eyes moved down before slowing moving up your figure. It was then that you realised that you were standing in little less than your short crop pyjama set with no bra on. You let out a stuttered breath as you held your mug closer to you effectively making you breasts much more defined to him (not to your knowledge). He looked back up at you, eyes dark in seduction and contained lust. “But you let me in, didn’t you?” He asked with a tilt of his head.
“Hm...” You thought about it for a moment. “Did I make a mistake of some kind?”
Midoriya shrugged. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
You spent hours talking to Midoriya, and you barely even noticed it at all. It was like talking to someone you had known for the longest while. It didn’t make much sense to you but then again, you didn’t really want it to make a lot of sense. You were enjoying yourself and you had company. It was much more than you could say about yourself for the past two years. His smile and laugh were contagious and he was a great listener and talker too.
Often than not you could found yourself lost in the stories he chose to tell. All the many things he had gotten through that could make little to no sense sometimes when he rambled but somehow only made the stories that much more genuine. You weren’t exactly sure how a quick check in just flowed into the both of you sitting on the couch for the past four hours just talking. Yet you couldn’t regret it even if you wanted to.
You shook your head as you sat in front of him, one arm resting on your hiked knee and the other resting on the back of the couch. “Oh Katsuki can be annoying.” You nodded your head with a chuckle.
“Can be?” Midoriya looked at you as if you were crazy. “No one infuriates me more than him.” He stated persistently making you laugh. “I hide it in public but God does he have me wanting to punch something.” He rolled his eyes. “He contradicts me in everything. He questions me in front of other heroes when things are absolutely flawless, ridicules me in front of the media and constantly berates me. It’s...” He chuckles as he pulls a hand through his green curls. “It’s fucking annoying.”
“Whoa there, Midoriya.” You put up your hands in surrender. “Don’t take your anger out on me.” He chuckled at your words. You relaxed and nodded your head. “Yah, it was pretty annoying, your petty rivalry to be honest. Or to be more specific, Katsuki never letting it go.” You rolled your eyes at the memories. “And God does thinking of him just makes me so angry. It makes me so mad cause I feel like such a fool. Even now.” You shrugged as you starred off to the side. You had barely been able to talk about your feelings towards Bakugou after the breakup, but you’d always just refused to even entertain it. Then again, maybe that’s why you didn’t move on. “After he cheated on me,”
Midoriya’s eyes flicked up to you. His facial expression didn’t change in fear of you not continuing but that caught him off guard. Bakugou Katsuki? Cheat? It was something Midoriya never thought possible, but then again why else would you be here, and he was out there? The two of you had an envious relationship. Why would that all be thrown away?
“I thought travelling and just spending time on myself would work. That maybe finding purpose in me would work, but no. Nothing’s changed. I am still alone, barely moving where I was two years ago and he is out there. New relationship, breaking boundaries, advancing as the Number Two hero. God if I could just...” You closed your eyes as you bawled up your fists. You let out a smile as you sighed. “Sorry Midoriya, I didn’t mean to dump on you like that.”
“Don’t apologise.” He told you honestly. “I wanted to listen. You deserve someone to listen to you.” He motioned towards you. He took a moment to think, eyebrows furrowing as he did so. He looked back to you as he leaned back against your couch. “You coming to the Hero Dinner next month?” He asked you. “We’ve missed you out there. Being at events, representing us and standing there being the face for the public to see.” His fingers traced circles on the cushion next to him. 
You hesitated. “Midoriya... I don’t think I’m that same woman.”
“Aww come on.” He threw one arm open. He adjusted his seating. “You know what I most admired about you?” He asked you, and you could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t trying to pressurise you. He wanted to genuinely tell you. “You... YN, were the only person I could ever see stand in front of a ton of heroes, host an entire gala and then proceed to go outside, control the press and act like its a regular Tuesday all while wearing stilettoes.” You smiled as you looked down at your lap. “You are the only one who wasn’t a hero, who spoke up to defend us against the commission for all the wreckage that happened in the suburbs due to a big villain attack that went too out of control. You were the only one that somehow is neutrally good and balances both sides. You’re a powerful woman, Y/N. You shouldn’t forget that.” The smile on your face, that he caused due to his words, made everything so much better to have said it in his eyes. Midoriya looked out to the windows. “Holy All Might, what’s the time?”
You looked back at the windows too and saw the sunrise orange hues stream inside your apartment. Your eyebrows raised in shock at how it was already the morning. “Uh...” You checked the clock on your wall. “Six. Six fifteen.” You told him.
Midoriya stood up and in a flash of lightning he was still standing in place but this time he had his gloves in hand. He zipped back up his hero shirt, never really having put it back on since having taken it off initially. “I should get back home and take a nap before my meeting at twelve.” He told you, pulling his gloves back on.
“I thought you said you don’t sleep.” You shot to him as you stood up, opening the balcony doors for him.
Midoriya shot you a smirk, sharp canines glinting in the morning light. His skin was glowing, freckles that dotted his skin all over only enhanced by the light and made prominent by his smile. Dimples. “I don’t. I nap. There’s a difference.” You chuckled as you stood against the doorway. He snapped his fingers and he pressed a button on his gloves and his white hero cape came flying back to him, clipping onto his shoulders. He walked over to stand next to you. He kept his eyes on you for a moment. He wanted to say so much and yet felt like if he said anything else he would never leave. “I’ll text you later? Or more accurately, when I get home.”
You nodded your head. “Yah, you will. Knowing you.” He chuckled. You motioned back to his cape. “Does your cape always just blow majestically with no breeze?”
Midoriya looked back behind him. “Uh...” He turned his head back to you. “You’d be surprised how much the PR team pays the hero support department at my agency.” You shook your head with a chuckle. He shot you a wink. “Same time Tuesday?” He asked as he started to walk out onto your balcony.
You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a date?”
“Whoa I never said that.” He raised his hands up. He had a smirk on his face though as he pushed his green curls back. “You want me that bad, huh? How much does baby want? Five hundred thousand yen per meet up?”
You rolled your eyes. “Goodbye, Midoriya.” You turned to go back inside before pausing once your brain digested the amount. “WAIT! HOLD ON!” You quickly turned around.
You heard laughter but he was already gone. You looked up at the sky with a smile. You shook your head as you closed the door. You weren’t sure how to feel but the smile on your face couldn’t leave. You walked over back to your room that was the exact same since you left it. You fell back into your covers as you looked up at the ceiling. You wondered what the hell this was all for?
You giggled as you covered your eyes with a sigh. Maybe you needed a nap yourself. You moved the sheets when you felt your phone buzz. You raised an eyebrow as you picked it up off your side table. You opened your phone and saw a message from Midoriya. It was an image of him in his apartment with a thumbs up.
Midoriya: Made it home safe. Heavy congestion though.
You rolled your eyes at him.
Ever since then you found yourself stuck on your phone texting Midoriya none stop. Any time he had free time he would send you a text and you would send one back. It was a back and forth thing. Soon you found yourself starring at your phone waiting for it to light up telling you that you had a message. You found yourself smiling at your phone and waiting on every message or text.
Midoriya couldn’t exactly say that he didn’t feel the same. He couldn’t exactly say that he didn’t wait on your every text, voice message or call. Even his sidekicks started noticing it and hell even started to tease him. He didn’t really mind, if it meant hearing you ramble about your day on a voice note only making him smile.
Although he had to put his phone away when dealing with cases or on patrol ninety percent of the time but then there was the hero dinner.
Heroes sat at their tables some with their partners, others surrounded by friends as the dinner was already in full swing. Midoriya was in a tight-fitting suit, slicked back green hair and a champagne glass in hand as he had glasses on and listened to ProHero Chargebolt speak of a mission he had last week. Dinner was yet to be served so as they waited, the group of heroes told stories and enjoyed the live music.
“I mean in my defence; he was in my shock radius.” He put his hands up in innocence.
ProHero Creati laughed as she smiled at the story. She wore a plum cocktail dress tailored to her figure. Momo raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you tell him to stay back?”
“I did.” Denki laughed. He shrugged as he lifted his own glass to his lips with a smirk. “Not my fault he didn’t listen.”
Mina shook her head amused at one of her closest friends. It never did make any sense to her any of his stories but she loved to listen to them anyways. She turned over to Midoriya with a smile. Her innocent smile turned diabolical as she looked at him. Midoriya’s raised an eyebrow slowly wondering whether he should run or not. “So Midoriya...” She started. “I heard from a little birdie that you’re dating someone.”
Midoriya nearly choked on his champagne. Iida rubbed his back as he put down the champagne glass. Midoriya coughed as he looked up at the pink hero.
Bakugou who sat opposite Midoriya at the round table raised an eyebrow. He scoffed. “Yah right.”
Midoriya cleared his throat as he sat up. He looked to Iida with an appreciative glance. “Thank you.” He said in gratitude before turning to Bakugou in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at the blond. “Excuse me, Kacchan...” He started with a forced smile.
Mina and Denki pursed their lips as they looked at each other knowing that the two pros were about to have it out against one another. Iida sighed knowing that something was about to happen. “Here we go again.” He muttered as he took a sip of his own champagne. Shoto raised an eyebrow not understanding why everyone was reacting like that.
“What do you mean by that?” Midoriya asked putting down his glass and looking up at Bakugou.
Kirishima looked down at the blond next to him nervously, not knowing whether to step in or not. Bakugou smirked as he leaned back in his chair. “I mean it like you think I mean it.” He shot back. “Why on earth would you be dating someone?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
Midoriya tilted his head, his smile becoming strained as he started to grow annoyed. “Because I want to?”
“Please, like you could find someone to date.” Bakugou shot back as he put down his glass. Everyone at the table had wide eyes at his words, keeping their mouths shut as they looked to Midoriya. Midoriya kept his pleasant smile on his face but one could physically feel the electricity and restraint around him as he looked over to Bakugou. His jaw was tense and he looked to him with nothing but empty green eyes. Bakugou started counting his reasons. “You’ve barely got time for a partner, you talk too much, the reality of actually dating the top hero chases most people away after a month and you’re probably as vanilla as four eyes over there.”
Iida looked over to Bakugou with a shocked expression. “Hey, I-” He stopped talking as he felt a hand go over his.
Midoriya didn’t look to Iida but kept facing forward. The aura around him was suffocating and the energy at the table was too tense for words. Everyone bounced looking from Bakugou to Midoriya before settling on the green haired hero to see what he had to say. Midoriya hummed as he sat back, he picked up his champagne glass and took a sip. “Well, at least I don’t cheat on my partners, Kacchan.”
Like a bucket of ice had been poured onto him, Bakugou went stiff and pale. Bakugou didn’t want to believe it. He let out a scoff. “Yah as if.” He couldn’t believe it. You had never told a soul of why you had broken up with him. You hadn’t want to ruin the way his friends saw him. Or at least that's what Bakugou thought. How on earth would Midoriya know. He couldn’t possibly. But with one flick of Midoriya’s jade gaze to Kirishima along with a raised eyebrow before looking back to the blond, Bakugou knew that he knew the cold hard honest truth. 
Midoriya opened his mouth to speak before a hand went to his shoulder. “Enjoying the champagne everyone?” He turned around and his eyes widened. Standing behind him was you and God did you look gorgeous. You stood in a classy suit, your blazer having a deep v-cut revealing nothing but unblemished skin underneath. You stood in heels as you looked over at the table, your hand on Midoriya.
Denki shot up with smile. “Y/N!” He cheered. You chuckled as he quickly made his way over to you with a hug. He pulled you in tightly, glad to have you back. “God, you can’t believe how worried I was when I saw you on the front page of the newspaper.”
You hugged him back, grateful to be holding him again. He was one of your closest friends and someone you never lost contact with. It hurt to be away from him because no matter what he always loved and supported you. It was just the type of friend that he was. “It’s great to see you too, Denks.” You told him honestly.
Mina waved at you, glad to see you too. “Girl, where have you been?” She asked you with a tilt of her head. “You tell me you’re in the country and yet we haven’t hit the clubs.”
You chuckled as you stayed at Denki’s side. “I’ve been resting before entering the scene again.” You say with a sigh as you looked around the table. “It’s good to see everyone like this again.” You spoke honestly. Your eyes went to Bakugou. He was frozen as he looked at you, red crimson eyes locked onto your being. You were still gorgeous as ever. It was as if time stopped for him, seeing you facing him once more. However, your gaze then moved to his partner. Kirishima sat next to him, still not able to bear the weight of your gaze as he held his champagne glass in his hand. He was glad he left his hair loose today, allowing him to focus on a red stray lock of hair than to look at you. “Red Riot...” He stilled at the mention of his hero name. You never used to call him that. Always referring to him as Kiri or Eijiro. Never Red Riot. Never so formal. “Dynamight, that interview on the Daily T show was great.” You congratulated.
Before you could spend any more clearly tense and strained attention on them, Midoriya stood up, taking your attention. The tall green haired hero looked down at you with a smirk on his freckled face. His emerald, green eyes looked your outfit over again, deep dark eyes going over your figure as if wanting to burn the image of you into his head. His smirk only grew causing a dimple to appear. “Look who decided to show up.” He teased, placing his hands in his pockets as he looked down at you.
You squeezed Denki’s hand before turning fully to face Midoriya. You chuckled as you folded your arms over your chest, trying to match his cockiness. “I’ll have you know, Mr Number One, that I had a good influence.” You shrugged. 
Midoriya clenched his jaw as he felt a shiver run down his spine and his cock twitch. He clenched his hands in his pockets. He had to find some way of getting you to stop saying those three words. At least not in public. He raised an eyebrow down at you. “Good influences?” You nodded your head, only making him hum as he watched you in a heat causing gaze. “Does this mean I have to keep offering you money to come to events?”
You thought about it for a moment, putting a finger to your lips as you thought. You tilted your head before looking back at him. “Hm... no, but maybe if you beg though.” Midoriya let out a chuckle which made you smile. You opened your mouth to speak before receiving an instruction through your earpiece. You hummed pressing down on it for a moment before looking back up at Midoriya. You sighed. “Well, I have to make sure I keep up your good images for the press.”
Taking you by surprise before you could leave, Midoriya pulled you in by the waist against him. His arm wrapped tightly around you with his face just a few small inches away. You felt your lungs run out of breath as you grew flustered. Heat moving up your neck at the intimate act. He smirked down at you, noticing your flustered expression. “Will I see you after this?” He asked more quietly, eyes glancing over at a certain livid blond.
You caught on quickly. Deciding to entertain him, you took a risk. You nodded at his question before pushing your body further against him. You moved one hand to the back of his neck, threading your fingers through curly green hair and pulling his head down to speak into his ear. Your lips brushed against his ears as you were about to speak. “Same place same time?”
Midoriya was motionless only for less than a second at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He smirked and leaned his head closer to you. “Better be coffee.” He whispered back
“Done.” You placed your lips against his neck in a kiss. Midoriya’s eyebrows raised slightly but his smile only grew. You were careful not to leave too much lipstick on him as you retracted yourself. You fiddled with the loose hairs at the back of his neck. You let go of him, walking away, keeping a hand on him. “See you later.” You shot him a wink as you squeezed his bicep. You gave Denki a wave as you walked off to greet other hero guests.
Midoriya’s eyes followed you for a second, all his attention on you and the way your body moved and swayed as you walked away. He cleared his throat, remembering where he was before turning back to the table. It was so painfully tense that if he had a knife, he could probably cut it. With an extra pep in his step, he took his seat again and picked up his champagne glass. A clear unremovable smile on his face that he couldn’t even deny if he wanted to. He looked it over before turning his gaze over to Mina. “Mina can you pass the champagne?” He asked.
Mina was stuck with a dropped jaw expression. Denki raised his eyebrows before releasing a scoff in disbelief. “Mr Midoriya... or should I call you Mr Rizzdoriya?” He stated as he took the bottle and handed it to Midoriya, with a teasing wink.
Midoriya chuckled. “What? No.” He shook his head as he took the bottle gratefully. Midoriya took out the cork and poured into his glass. He hummed to himself for a moment before lifting his gaze up to Bakugou who looked as though if he got close enough to Midoriya he would gouge his eyes out. Midoriya’s smile on grew brighter as he put down the bottle. “I mean… like I could find someone to date.” He tilted his head slightly before putting the champagne back in a bucket of ice.
-Glitch1d
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legendoftherisingtide · 6 months
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[intro]
Bakugou is a prideful, arrogant person. He holds himself to the highest standard; he is the best and everyone else is simply below him. Everything he has ever done was in pursuit of being number one, shining above the rest. He has to have a perfect victory, he has to be a perfect student, he has to win to save.
He pushes and pushes and won’t let anyone see his weaknesses or his insecurities. He can never lose, he can never fail, he can never show that he regrets or hesitates or that he hasn’t thought everything through. He must never be vulnerable in every sense of the word.
Then why is he standing in the rain.
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To apologize shouldn’t be a sacrifice, but it is for Bakugou. To pour his feelings, to admit his wrong, to let down all of the walls he has built and be vulnerable. And in front of his whole class.
He is willing to sacrifice his pride, to fully sacrifice any superiority he could have, to bare his soul and even risk rejection. Because he knows Midoriya is more important. Because he wants him to come home, he wants him to know his true feelings, because he wants things to change. 
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Because Midoriya has changed him. Midoriya has opened his eyes; by showing him he’s allowed to be open, that his feelings should be expressed, that he has so much to learn, and so much of that was learned through Midoriya just existing.
He isn’t sacrificing his safety frivolously because he’s expected to as a hero; he is doing it because he has grown. He is doing it because he has finally admitted to himself that he wants Midoriya to be with him and safe.
So I will sacrifice this for you. Not because it will change anything, as much as I want that I know that I can’t just fix all the wrong with just this. And I am willing to do as much as it takes to earn your forgiveness. But I don’t need that from you, not now and not ever if you don’t want that, I just need you to rest. I did so much wrong. And I am sorry for everything. You don’t have to do this alone. Lean on us. You are so strong and being supported doesn’t discount that. You’ve taught me that. 
I hate the rain. But I will brave it for you. 
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He would do everything in his power, admit so many things, just to get Midoriya to take care of himself. We see him being the most vulnerable he has ever been in front of people that aren’t Midoriya. He does so much completely out of character, all in pursuit of being there for Midoriya. 
For Izuku.
He finally gets over himself and finally tells Midoriya the feelings he has felt for so long.
He lets go of this idea he is inherently better and finally acknowledges that his hatred for Midoriya has always been about his own shortcomings and insecurities. But he still wants to be better, they are still rivals. He isn’t going to sacrifice that part of him because that is just who he is; he is still going to push to number one.
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But now it’s different.
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There is verbal and vocal acceptance and respect. Before it was unspoken; their relationship had changed ever since Ground Beta. They were proper rivals, with mutual respect and care, they were actively making each other better.
But Bakugo finally verbalizes it and tells Midoriya, not only is he sorry, but he wants to actually have a proper friendship; he wants to continue to become better and earn his forgiveness. He wants them to push each other to be better, he wants to continue to fight for the top spot, he still wants to be the best.
But when did it become something else? 
When was the turning point when it started to shift from wanting to surpass Midoriya and be the best, to wanting to keep up with Midoriya and stay by his side?
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Bakugou has already sacrificed himself for Midoriya before. His body moved on its own; with no hesitation, he would save Midoriya. He has already risked his life for him. But there is a layer to it that I don’t think people talk about. 
He tells Midoriya he shouldn’t try to win this on his own. 
He disguises his concern with an insistence that he’s in it to fight for himself when he initially joins the battle. But it is to fight by Midoriya’s side and support him.
But taking the hit for Midoriya, jumping in the way isn’t just support. This is sacrifice. This is giving yourself to ensure the safety of someone. And it was second nature. 
There are two reasons and both are a sacrifice of something in the moment.
It is knowing someone is so valuable, so great, in all senses of the word, that they must be protected. Bakugou is sacrificing his body and admitting that Midoriya needs to stay alive, for personal reasons and/or for the world. He needs Midoriya to be okay, Midoriya can’t fight alone and Bakugou will do anything to make sure he will be okay. 
But the sacrifice of ideology. 
With every development, he has relinquished parts of himself. When he sacrifices himself he is not only sacrificing his body but is admitting that he can’t do this on his own; he needs Midoriya too. This isn’t him wanting to be better than Midoriya, it’s him wanting to do it together.
Midoriya changed him.
He doesn’t die for Midoriya. He wakes up and just as his last thought was Midoriya, so was his first as he woke up. He runs to his side. People are dragging him back, trying to have him rest, knowing before he even said anything that he would lose his mind over Midoriya’s situation. 
Everyone sees how Bakugou feels about Midoriya.
He sacrifices himself because Midoriya can not die on him. Midoriya has to stay alive. Midoriya has to keep fighting. 
There can not be a world that doesn’t have him in it.
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This is the culmination of what has been developing ever since the final exam where Bakugou finally works with Midoriya; the day that win to save, save to win was noticed. Then furthered after Ground Beta where they finally talked to each other and something changed within them both.
But the final sacrifice is the culmination of Bakugou’s character.
He knows what this decision will mean. Everyone screams for him not to. He knows that he is going to die. He knows he will not win this fight.
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This isn’t dying for the cause. This isn’t just a hero complex. This is because he can help Midoriya and he will. This is for Izuku.
I will sacrifice myself for you. To give you more time, to give you even the slightest chance of winning. I will sacrifice myself for you because you are who can win. I am going to die. I am going to die and in my final thoughts, I will ask if I will still be able to be by your side.
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It is no longer can I beat you. It is no longer can I surpass you. It is can I still catch up to you. It is can I still even be equal to you. He has already sacrificed the idea that he could beat Midoriya, that isn’t what he wants anymore. What he wants is to stay here with him.
I will sacrifice everything I am. I have wanted to be the best. All my life I have wanted to surpass you and everyone around me. But you. I will let that go for you. I let it go in my mind for so long now and I have never wanted to admit it. Is it even possible? Is it even possible for me to catch up to you? Is it even possible for me to stay by your side. I can’t be that anymore. I am sacrificing even that now. I will never be number one now. I will never become the person I always dreamed to be. I will never surpass you. I am forever sacrificing that now. I will die here.  
But can I still be with you?
The sacrifice of his life is him fully relinquishing everything he is, admitting that he can’t keep up, losing all of the progress he has made, letting go of everything that made up his character.
And the last thing on his mind is if he can still be able to be by Midoriya’s side.
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He won’t let him go again. 
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giorno-plays-piano · 6 months
Text
Broken Boy
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Pairing: soft!yandere!Midoriya Izuku x reader
Warnings: obsession, manipulation, past bullying, violence (against bullies), unhealthy coping mechanisms, implied stalking, one mention of hypothetical noncon, Izuku being a cinnamon roll and a menace at the same time, hurt/comfort.
Words: 3.2k
Summary: "Is someone... giving you trouble?" You ask cautiously, actually afraid he's going to say yes. You can't stomach thinking someone is bullying Izuku again. Sure, he bulked up considerably and is now so tall he literally towers over you, but he's still that shy compassionate boy inside, and he doesn't know how to stop people from being mean to him.
P.S. Just giving some love to our best boi.
______________
When you see him, it's almost like every other Friday night when you grab a pizza from that corner cafe and come home to Izuku choosing a movie for you two to enjoy. It's been your favorite tradition ever since middle school, and you can't imagine spending the evening anywhere else.
Though maybe you should, given the circumstances.
Midoriya keeps chatting about work and the new equipment in his gym while you struggle to keep the conversation going. There are a lot of things on your mind, but your best friend's mental health is on the top of the list. Has been for a long time when you two had been younger, but you actually thought he got better with time. That is, until your work friend pointed out how unnaturally clingy he seems to the point when it's almost creepy.
He'd bark for you if you asked, she huffed, but, to your horror, you couldn't even find it in you to argue. In the end, she was right. When you look back at it, Izuku has been getting more and more possessive and insecure despite nothing seemingly changing in the relationship between you two.
Has something happened to him, and you missed it completely? You are confident it isn't his mom - your friend would often FaceTime with you around, and nothing at all hints at Midoriya's mom being distressed, you know her well enough to be sure. Is it work, perhaps? Personal issues?
Has someone started bullying him again?
You shiver from anger at the thought, clenching your fists. You would fucking end anyone who's troubling your ray of sunshine - like you had nearly done in middle school.
When you first met him, he was a new kid in your class, all skin and bones, awkward and shy and with no communication skills whatsoever. Took him about a day to become a target of delinquents you school was full of. They mocked him, drew on his desk, and threw a bucket of water at him once, but, as always, teachers didn't pay any attention to the bullying. You feel bad about it now, but since you had never seen it happen with your own eyes, you didn't think much of it either.
However, when one of the kids punched Izuku in the face to the point his nose started bleeding right in front of you, something in you snapped at the view of blood trickling down Midoriya's face. He was crying, hands up to prevent the kid from hurting him more, pleading the bullies to stop as if they'd listen. To this day, it infuriates you that someone would beat up a child this defenseless and lost: he was like an injured puppy, sobbing and trying to hide in the corner with his arms up to protect himself.
Before you even realized what you were doing, you flew to the bully and strated throwing punches at him like your life depended on it, repeatedly hitting him in the head and chest and everywhere you could reach before the other kids intervened. You were so enraged, though, you ended up fighting them, too, despite getting kicked in the ribs hard. The pain didn't stop you: it was like you turned into a whole different being whose only purpose was to hurt the bullies of a crying kid.
The teachers barely got a hold of you before you grabbed a chair to smash it against the back of one of the other children.
To this day, you wonder how Izuku awoke this raging beast inside of you: you had rarely gotten into fights, and, given your politeness and overall sweet demeanor, neither you nor anyone else had suspected you had it in you. Nevertheless, from that point on, there wasn't a day when you weren't there for Midoriya to kick the ass of whoever had the gall to torment him. Hell, the next time someone punched him, you went batshit crazy and almost pushed the guy off the stairs. Worse, you aren't the slightest bit sorry even now when you think of Izuku's swollen eye after he got punched again.
Gradually, it became better after you showed every stupid boy around what would happen if they did anything stupid to that awkward skinny kid, and Izuku was finally left alone. Naturally, it was no surprise he got so attached to you he spent nearly all his time somewhere around, going to the same after-school activities, picking same clubs, doing same things as long as he was able to stay close to you. You felt sorry for Midoriya: he was so nice it alone was enough for people to pick on him. How was he supposed to find friends? He'd stay a loner forever if you didn't do anything.
He wasn't hard to be around. Getting to know him better, you realized he was genuinely a very gentle and smart kid despite his antics and a weird addiction to superhero movies. Izuku was sweet and polite, holding a door for you like a gentleman, carrying your books, always laughing at your jokes, and even giving up his rice pudding he claimed he didn't like just to give it to you. How could you not like him?
It's been years since you both graduated from college, and he is still bringing you a rice pudding whenever you feel sad. You heart clenches as you think of him going through hard times again when you have no idea what's happening.
"Are you alright?" He suddenly asks, and you realize you've been staring at the wall for a minute, not replying to anything he just said.
God, this is gonna be painful.
"Are you alright?" Turning your head to face him, you ask, equally guilty and concerned.
Even though he tells you he is, giving you his brightest smile, you don't believe it. Izuku is very good at hiding his emotions when he's hurt.
"Talk to me," you ask, grabbing his palms in yours, and he visibly reddens at the sudden touch like a schoolboy.
You aren't fooled by this as you patiently wait for him to open up like always does when you want him to be honest with you, but Izuku just shrugs and says he's unsure what you're implying. Things are the same. Nothing has changed, nothing at all.
"Is someone... giving you trouble?" You ask cautiously, actually afraid he's going to say yes. You can't stomach thinking someone is bullying Izuku again. Sure, he bulked up considerably and is now so tall he literally towers over you, but he's still that shy compassionate boy inside, and he doesn't know how to stop people from being mean to him.
Midoriya smiles and shakes his head. "No. My colleagues and my boss are very nice. You don't have to worry."
"I can't NOT worry!" You exhale, rubbing his hands in yours like you always do when you get nervous. "You seem so... alone. I don't even see your gym buddies anymore. Has something happened? Did you have a fallout or something?"
There it is, this gentle, heartbreaking smile he always gives you whenever you are worried. Izuku has never once told you that you are pushy and overbearing despite the fact that you were all that many times in the past. He just smiles at you like he's happy someone cares, and it makes you tear up at the thought. How could he be so sweet and kind and yet so unaware of his own worth? It feels like the world is so freaking unfair to him.
"I just don't spend that much time with them anymore," he says as he gets a little closer to you, cheeks blushing because he's such a pure soul, unspoiled and shy, "because you are my best friend. I wanna hang out with you. I thought you'd be happy about it."
It's nearly enough to make you freaking sob. What did you do to deserve this sweetheart? How could he stay such a warm, kindhearted guy after the treatment people gave him?
You draw a breath and look him dead in the eye. "Izuku, come on, I'm not going anywhere. Why on Earth do you think if you have other friends, I'll stop hanging out with you? Having more friends is a healthy thing! We can hang out together if you'd like."
It seems Midoriya doesn't like the idea, giving how he shakes his head, his expression darkening. You don't know what to make of it until he starts talking, not meeting your eyes, "No. What if you'll like my friends more than me? I've always felt like you liked those gym guys more than me. I hated it. Like they're better than me, and if they ask you to stop spending time with me, you'll choose them over me."
For a second, you're unsure if you've just misheard him. It takes you a moment to process his words. What the actual fuck?! Did he just suppose you like his gym bros you only ever met a couple of times more than him, your best friend who's been with you for years?
As you blink, a thousand questions form in your head in response to his accusation, but one thought prevails over others: Izuku is battling some serious demons inside his head. There is no way a sane person would ever suggest anything like that. He's really, really insecure. Insecure in a dangerous way. You can't believe you haven't realized it earlier, just blaming it on his weird social skills when Izuku clearly hasn't been alright. When did it even start? Has it always been like that, and you simply didn't see the signs? Is it because of his childhood traumas?
Of course, it's his fucking childhood traumas. Why else? You were literally the only kid around him. Of course, he's terrified of losing you, and that's why he's still glued to you like a child.
It hurts you thinking your best friend is struggling that much. He's such a good person. He could have been so much happier if not for the things he had to endure as a kid that damaged him.
"Izuku, I think you need help," you whisper quietly, heartbroken, clenching his hands in yours as he watches you with that soft smile on his face that only makes you more anxious. "Things you say, they're just... wrong. I'd never abandon you for someone else, but it's not normal to depend on anyone that much. You need help. What can I do for you?"
You are completely honest with him when you speak, wishing to do anything it takes to help him get better. Clearly, Midoriya needs therapy. You'll have to ask around and find him an adequate specialist, maybe even pay if Izuku's low on cash, but you can do it. He's your best friend. Even if your colleague is right and he'd do anything for you, you'd do anything for him either. That's what friends are for.
When Izuku lights up, you hope he'll accept your help, but instead, he says, "Just stay with me like this."
You blink again and sigh in frustration. Of course, he'll pretend like he's ok. He has always had.
Reaching out to him, you envelop him in a hug and bring his head to your chest despite how much bigger he is now compared to you. Izuku doesn't fight, eagerly wrapping his hands around your core like he waited for it to happen. You're fairly certain touch is his love language because he used to hug you almost every day when he was a kid. Sure, he did become more self-conscious once you turned older, but it didn't stop him from occasional cuddles.
"I'm not going anywhere, ok?" You repeat again to reassure him. "I'm here. I don't know why you're so fixated on the idea."
"But what if you're gonna meet some guy you'll fall in love with? Get married, have kids?" He mumbles, his breath warming your neck. "What about me then?"
Gently caressing his head to calm him down, you ask, "Well, aren't you gonna do the same? Don't you want to fall in love with some nice girl?"
He sighs loudly, head buried under your chin as he keeps clinging to you. "I've already had."
Eyes wide, you silently stare at him, but Midoriya doesn't stop cuddling with his face hidden from you like he doesn't want you to see him. What the hell? Is this a prank or something? What sort of a fucking rollercoaster is this evening?
You can't even believe he fell in love with someone. Seriously? And didn't even tell you? Who on Earth is this girl? Do you know her? How did they meet? Your head is ready to burst from the number of questions that only seem to multiple again and again with each sentence Midoriya says.
"But you never even hang out with anyone but me..." You start, furrowing your brows until Izuku is groaning in your chest, and it finally hits you.
He is talking about you.
You are the only girl he's ever cared about. The only person he's been close to. And he has always been nice, but also sort of exceptionally nice? Even your mom used to comment on how much he likes you, hinting at the evident crash he had for you, but you always thought it was just wishful thinking despite how much you'd liked him to be in love with you. Given how open he was, he would've already confessed, you thought. By the time you both turned into adults, you were pretty much convinced he didn't harbor any romantic feelings for you or no longer had them.
When in reality he might have fallen in love with you years ago and never fallen out of it.
It freaks you out that much your face is on fire. Fucking hell. How are you supposed to react? What are you going to say? You don't even understand how you are feeling about this. Do you like him? Sure, you absolutely do. But do you love him? Can you love him? He'll surely ask you to date now that the cat is our of the bag. And what are you going to say to that?
Instead, you try to direct your thoughts elsewhere and ask Izuku, swallowing a lump in your throat, "When did you f-fall in love with me?"
He mumbles something inaudible into your chest, and you have to grab his face and make him look at you despite how much you'd like the earth just to swallow you whole this very moment.
"When you first hit that kid for me, I think," he mutters with his face so red he resembles a ripe tomato.
Oh my god, you almost say to his face but manage to stop yourself, drawing a shaky breath instead. He's been in love with you all this time. All. This. Time. You are never going to live this moment down. Ever.
Your best friend had a crush on you for years, and you just blindly thought he was clingy for no reason aside from his loneliness. That he was just being moody when you went on a couple of dates in high school and talked to him about it. That he didn't date anyone himself because he's simply a very shy person and struggles to start a conversation with girls.
Were you being a huge moron to him all this time?
"You weren't supposed to find out this way," he grumbles, burying his head beneath your chin again. "I was preparing for a big reveal in a nice restaurant, and then we'd go on a trip, just the two of us."
You are so abashed you don't even have anything to say. Maybe you're actually dreaming right now on Midoriya's couch because only then it would all make sense. What the hell are you supposed to say? To feel? Your best friend has always been in love with you, and you had no fucking idea.
Again, not that you don't like him or anything. You do. Especially after he manned up a little, grew taller, and hit the gym, although you'd probably like him even if he still was 5"1 skinny as a rail guy with a baby face. It just feels weird to rapidly start developing these freaking intense feelings for someone you nearly considered a part of you.
While you're trying to somehow get out of this akward situation, your brain gives you the stupidest idea to make a joke, "Well, aren't we confident! Already planned a trip after confessing."
You almost feel him smile, but when he breaks the embrace to straighten and look you in the eyes, he has a sad expression on his face. "I'd try to convince you by any means possible I'd do anything for you. I was ready to grovel at your feet. I still am."
His words alarm you, and you immediately place your hands on his shoulders, causing him to smile again. You want to tell him under no circumstances he should do that to anyone at all, but Izuku keeps going before you can stop him.
"I mean it. I'd do anything. I'd let you hurt me. I'd let you rape me if you wanted to. I'd jump from the roof if you asked me. Whatever you want, I'll do."
Normally, a love confession would have made you happy, but the words he say break your heart instead, and your eyes are instantly wet before you even realize it. How could he say something like that? How could be so nonchalant about these things? Has he no regard for himself as a human being? No pride? No pity? How can he talk about being alright with you hurting him if only it meant you'd date him? How could be genuinely be fine with a thing like this?
'I'm sorry!" He apologizes immediately when tears start streaming down your cheeks. "I didn't mean to upset you, I swear! I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me."
You are fully sobbing now, clenching his stupid Captain America sweatshirt you got him last Christmas. This is so fucked up. How could he be okay with you doing these things to him? Why would he even go that far?
You can't stop yourself from embracing him once more, hugging him tight as your head rests on his broad shoulder. Midoriya doesn't protest, his gentle, warm hands already caressing your back as you sniffle.
"Izuku, you need help," you sob, soaking his sweatshirt, oblivious to his smile growing wide when you don't see his face.
Gently rocking back and forth like he's trying to calm down a child, he whispers to you softly in response, "Then will you stay and help me?"
It's such an innocent ask you have no second thoughts saying yes immediately because you better fall down the roof yourself than leave your friend in this state, and you don't even think about Izuku manipulating you into being with him. How could he? He's a cinnamon roll to the core. He's so good and pure it's dangerous for him to be left alone. Besides, you like him anyway, don't you? It's not like everything will change so much in a heartbeat. He's still your friend, still the closest to you. He'll always be. He just needs your help, and you can't say no when he's been so traumatized and really needs help.
Izuku knew you'd say yes, anyway.
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Tags: @yanderetodorokishoto @minshookie29
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