#shinsou fanfic
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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
#bnha#shinsou hitoshi#shinsou x reader#shinsou/reader#shinsou imagine#shinsou fic#mha#shinsou headcanons#shinsou fanfiction#shinsou fanfic#shinsou hitoshi x reader#soulmates#soulmate#soulmate au#dash it all
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brat | shinsou hitoshi
synopsis ↬ shinso gets a bit jealous when you get close with one of his friends
warnings ↬ pseudocest, dub-con, swearing, manipulation, shinso is aizawa's son, you live with them but shinso sees you as his sister although you are NOT related, kaminari denki slander, your parents were heroes who passed, shinso and the reader play the doctor game, shinso and the reader are both about 20 but shinso is older, she/her pronouns for the reader, virgin kink, slight humiliation kink, use of 'girl' and 'doll' when addressing the reader, unprotected s*x, fingering, cr3ampie, slight overstimulation, 0ral (receiving), slut shaming, if you notice some things that don’t make sense it’s poor editing, I changed the story last minute and i’m sorry, let me know if i missed something
pairing ↬ shinsou hitoshi x fem!reader
word count ↬ 6.4k
kinktober week one
Shinso’s eyes glanced over your frame, watching you twiddle the pads of your fingers. Standing by the kitchen counter with your mobile loosely hanging from your hands, a laugh echoed throughout the home every couple of minutes. The ticking of the analog clock furthered his frustration; he’d been counting every second. Time seemed to pass at a dreadfully slow pace and, for eons, he waited for you to finish.
He knew who was the keeper of your time, fucking Denki, his coworker at a hero agency they both worked for. It only took one encounter at the entrance of the agency's building for him to capture your attention. Shinso could not fathom why you had any interest in him with the blonde’s undying persistence to establish a friendship with you.
Sitting on the worn-out sofa of his father’s home, he waited as patiently as he could. The show on the large flat-screen TV had no longer sparked his interest. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from your back as his chest tightened and his heart swelled with jealousy. Resisting his urge to grip the phone from your hands, he waited. Questioning whether it was worth it to tell father about your latest interaction with Denki, knowing very well that he wouldn’t be happy. Shinsou could still remember the day his father, Aizawa Shouta, introduced you to him.
It was a long afternoon filled with Aizawa trying to convince you to live with him and his son. The sudden death of your parents only a few hours prior left the man feeling sympathetic for you. They were pro-heroes and two of his dearest friends; another loss he would have to cope with. Making a promise to himself that you wouldn’t have the same unfortunate outcome, he asked if you would move in with him. Although you were old enough to survive on your own, his persistence left you with few options. He never left your side until you agreed.
The rest of the night was spent preparing his house for your comfort. Aizawa helped you move all your essentials from your previous home into the one he shared with Shinsou and even allowed you to sleep in his bedroom until he finished designing your own. He always doted on you in a loving manner, giving you extra attention while never being afraid to act as a parental figure when you needed him. You didn’t mind Shinsou’s overly affectionate demeanor, thinking he was excited about having a new little ‘sibling’ to fawn over. Soon, referring to each other as ‘brotherly’ or ‘sisterly’ names. This continued for months, concerning Aizawa who thought this would hinder your grieving. He was certain this was Shinsou’s doing.
Lost in his thoughts, Shinso failed to hear the endearing “goodbye” you said while ending the phone call. Clutching it to your chest and hiding the screen from Shinso’s view, you sauntered to a seat beside him on the couch, hardly noticing his gaze on your figure as you strode over. You placed your phone on the coffee table in front of him and focused your attention on the boring show, softly humming to the tune of your favorite song. Shinso briefly cleared his throat before engaging in a conversation with you.
“Who was that?” He asked as his ears peaked in your direction as he waited for a response. The attention given to him was lackluster compared to what he truly wanted.
“Just a friend.” A sigh escaped your pouty lips, and you prepared for another pestering.
“I didn’t know you were friends with Denki.” Shinso scoffed before folding his arms and resting his back against the cushion.
“I can be friends with whoever I want to… besides, he’s a nice guy.” You played with the fabric of your skirt that rode more than halfway up your thighs. Secretly, you wanted him to continue; he could never know this, but each time his voice raised, a sharp chill traveled through your spine and tingled your pearl. Your head tilted backward on the couch, mirroring his position, you seemed too agitated to continue the conversation.
He glanced at your body, thoughts of Denki’s devilish hands grasping onto the last bit of your innocence made his blood boil. You had to be a virgin, he was sure. Shinso always followed any male that managed to befriend you and basked in your depressive state when you revealed your new male friend had disappeared. Always giving them a strict warning, even using his quirk when necessary, just to preserve your purity. How could he live knowing that Denki was the lucky bastard to take his your virginity? Today was the day. He needed to do something.
“I know that… but you need to stop talking to him,” Shinso replied, eyeing you up and furrowing his eyebrows.
“And why should I do that?” You returned his gaze, trying to seem pitiful to lure the male’s attention away from you. However, Shinso was smart enough to see through your tricks.
“Because I said so…” He replied back to you, and before you had any more time to protest, he tried to end the conversation before another argument followed. “If I see you talking to him again, you won’t like it.” The weak threat flew over your ditzy head and you smirked up at him in an unfazed manner.
“Are you serious?” You scoffed. Shinso was not amused by your antics.
“I wasn’t asking, I’m telling you.” You seemed to shrink as he continued to speak. His body loomed over yours, commanding your attention and seizing authority over you. His voice, deep and domineering, causes you to freeze on the couch for a few seconds as you feel blood rush to your core. Unfortunately, just as his aching heart consumed his entire spirit, your ego had grown in abundance, and you were no longer scared of the man sitting adjacent to you.
“You know,” You started as your index finger pressed into your jaw to tease the elder, your eyelashes innocently batting at the male. “I forgot to tell Denki something. Do you mind if I call him again?” Your hand reached for the shiny mobile, gripping the plastic case and unlocking the phone. Once opened, Shinso’s hand found its way to your wrists, grasping you tightly as a warning. You mewled at the sudden pressure on your weak bones as his fingernails left indents on your skin. “W- What are you doing?”
His hands, much larger than yours, pried the phone out of your hands as you watched on, too dazed to process his actions. Shinso held the phone away from you, watching as you continued protesting and grabbing at his hands. The screen, still open, showed Denki’s contact and phone number. He couldn’t help but grimace and felt a sudden churn in his stomach. The blonde’s annoying presence and dopey demeanor were not much of a prize. You clawed at his body until he gripped your shoulder and pushed your body away.
“Delete his number or I’m telling Dad.” His voice was stern. You were no match to him. If you fought, you knew who the winner would be; so you succumbed to his wish. You weren't sure if he would do this, but he always threatened to use his quirk if you acted up – perhaps you should take his proposals more seriously.
“Fine. Give it back,” You extended your forearm towards him, patiently waiting for the elder to return it. Before the casing touched your hand, he remembered. Perhaps this was his last chance, otherwise, he would have to wait for an eternity. This was his chance to do something. When his hands didn’t faze and his eyes seemed lost in thought, you spoke. Shinso glanced between the phone and the impatient woman in front of him.
“Actually, I think I’ll hold onto this.” He slipped the phone inside his pocket before facing your visibly confused face.
“But you just said you would give it back,” You tried reaching for the phone once more, but you failed. You relaxed on the couch and scowled at your his antics.
“I will, but you need to earn it back,” Shinso responded sternly, only worsening your anger. He wished he could feel any sense of remorse, but none would arise. For a few moments, his mind would linger on moral thoughts which were quickly diminished by his devilish desires. Shinso weakly gulped, trying to clear his head and the demons that convinced him to sin. Alas, it was too late as his weak mind succumbed to you. “Let’s play a game.”
“A game? Which game?” You almost couldn’t believe your ears. Of course, you weren't deterred by the idea.
“Don't worry, it's fun.” You fluttered your doll eyes towards your brother. You're so innocent. “Don’t tell Dad, though,” He couldn’t imagine the scrutiny Aizawa would give if he found out about his son’s perversion.
“Fine, I’ll play. What is it?”
“Do you know that doctor game?” Shinso watched as you nodded to his question. He hesitated to continue. “Why don’t we play that game?” Once again, you agreed. You weren't familiar with it, but it was only a light-hearted game, right?
“Y- Yeah, we can play.” Your cheeks felt intense warmth, an act your body would do upon feeling nervousness. “Um, how should we start?”
“Well…” Shinso’s hands guided themselves to the hem of your shirt as he spoke. “Let’s start here first.” He lifted the material upwards and past your arms and head. He could feel himself twitching at your beige brassiere that cradled your ample breasts. As he discarded the shirt elsewhere in the room and inched his body closer to yours, you could feel his stare on your body and instinctively covered your chest.
“Shinsou, don’t stare.” Your fragile voice caused Shinso to spur with uncontrollable desire. He adored it.
“Don’t get shy in front of me. I won’t bite.” He pulled down at your arms and embraced your body briefly, unclasping your bra before tossing it in a pile with your shirt.
You quivered at the sudden sharp coldness of the air, desperately wanting to cover yourself. He tugged at your arms, pulling them to your side. You weren’t sure why he was doing this, wanting to stop and retreat to your bedroom. Lowering your head, you wrapped your arms around your waist, cowering in front of him with tears of humiliation threatening to spill from your eyes. The air of innocence was replaced by a noticeable lust. You watched his eyes examine the upper half of your body.
His cold hands reached for your chest before massaging your mounds delicately. Shinso’s hands now engulfed your chest as his thumbs rubbed into the skin on your nipples. You let out a muffled yet loud moan at the foreign sensation unable to deny that your body loved his pleasant touches.
You sank your teeth into your bottom lip until a metallic taste touched your tongue. Watching you shiver on the couch, Shinso chucked to himself quietly — you submitted to him easier than he expected. At least put up a fight next time. One thing he didn’t enjoy, however, was your quiet demeanor; you made sure to stay silent during the whole ordeal.
Lowering his head until his mouth hovered over your exposed chest, kissing the skin, biting and suckling to leave his mark. Your hands moved away from your waist to push against his chest, yet, he wouldn’t budge. Once satisfied, he wrapped his mouth around your hardening buds, making you shudder in his hold. Another whine escaped your lips, you tried to hold back, but as you felt his teeth sink into your perky nipples, a loud wince echoed through the room again.
“Mm~ Sh- Shinsou— what are you doing?” You could barely form the sentences from your mouth as moans managed to slip through your words. Grazing his teeth on your buds as they hardened under his warm tongue. Flicking the skin before sinking his mouth deeper, leaving marks his father would surely ask about. God, his mouth hungrily lapped the nub as wet sounds and high-pitched moans drowned out the noise of the television.
Shinso ignored your question, too drunk on the feeling of your plush skin against his tongue. Alternating between each of your breasts until he was satisfied with the bites and marks on your skin, the squeals from your mouth only coaxed him to continue. His arms firmly wrapped around your waist and back, pulling you closer to his mouth. Your legs clenched firmly together with each pulse and wave of pleasure rocking your core repeatedly. Hands moving from your body to his shoulders pulled him closer, needing to feel his body — his warm and soft skin — against your own. Feeling his own orgasm approach embarrassingly fast as he gently rocked his hardened cock into your thigh, he pulled away.
Panting, you had no time to calm your body as his lips collided with yours. Shinso’s tongue moved in the same way against your buds. Licking your lips and asking, no, pleading for your to allow him entrance, you eagerly complied. The feeling of his body against yours, pulling you deeper to him, almost as if he was too scared to have you run away.
This is wrong, and you knew it, but your arms refused to push him away — only accepting his embrace into yours. His kisses electrified a part of you that had been hidden for years. You did not want it, yet your body began enjoying it. Moaning into his mouth, you could feel his body tense up at the slight movements your body made.
Pulling away briefly from the kiss as a string of your mixed saliva disconnected, his attacks moved to your neck and collar. This time his kisses were gentle; he didn’t want you to have to face his father and explain where the marks originated. Although he adored you, Aizawa sensed something was in the air between you two. It left an uneasy feeling as he watched his son’s behavior change around your presence. Shinsou dreaded the thought of you two separating. What would happen then?
Inhaling and caressing your soft and supple skin, he realized that he needed more. Firm hands digging at his shoulders broke him from the spell as you were also free from your drunken state.
“S- Shinso… stop… this isn’t right,” His arms tightened around your body as he heard you speak. What do you mean this isn’t right? Always self-centered, you could not please him for once in your life. “Not like this…”
“Not like this, huh?” He said, inhaling your intoxicating scent as his face nestled in the crook of your shoulder. “Then what shall we do..?” Shinso finally removed himself from your body, although still holding on. “Look at these pretty marks I made. It would be a shame if they were wasted.” He traced the bruises and bites on your skin as your body trembled in fear. “Father wouldn’t be too pleased to see these. It would be unfortunate if he learned about your adventures with Denki.” Your eyes widened in fear. Although he was the one marking you, he would be the one to snitch on you.
“B- But you’re lying! I haven’t done anything with him…” Honestly, you weren’t sure about his reaction, or whether he would even care. You only knew that he was extremely overprotective and critical of any lover you brought home.
“Shall we call him and find out?” Shinso taunted as a sadistic smirk etched across his lips when he noticed you cowering underneath him.
“No…”
“Then listen to your big brother. I can make you feel good.” He gently pulled you up and off the couch, guiding you to his bedroom. Your legs felt heavy as if they were too scared to move to your forbidden destination. His fingers soothed your trembling arms causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. Again, he let out a sickening chuckle.
His room, small yet tidy, seemed to feel like a prison. Shinso guides you to his bed as you inhale the faint scent of lavender coming from his clean bedsheets. You failed to notice your shirt and brassier in one of his hands as he chucks the materials away in a pile of clothes in his room — you won’t see that bra again. The cold air causes your nipples to harden almost instantly as he urges you to sit on his bed.
“W- Why do you want to do this, Shinso?” If only you knew about the twitch in his tight pants each time you said his name. Thank god you were too innocent to notice the bulge in his sweatpants.
“This is your fault. I wouldn’t do this if you behaved… you need to remember your place.” Your place? There was not enough time to think as you felt his hands tug down your denim skirt until it reached the ground and pooled around your ankles. His hands caressed your exposed thighs as he watched you shiver on his duvet. “Lay down on the bed. I’ll help you warm up.”
You listened, unconsciously spreading your legs as you lay on his comfy mattress. The aroma of his room seemed to cast away your anxiety, but only for a brief moment. Shinso’s eyes greedily examined the damp spot in your lace underwear, reminding you that your body was still on full display for him to see. His fingers reached down and danced around the lace whilst his body eased closer to your frame. Both of his knees caged your body as he lifted your thighs upwards. Finally, as he thumbed over your sensitive clit, a gasp escaped your mouth feeling him rub circles into your sex. Perhaps he was too eager, after a few seconds of teasing, he quickly tore off the clothing before placing it elsewhere in his room.
“Look at you… look at how wet you are.” His fingers traced around your labia, collecting the clear essence from your slick and bringing it up to your eyes. Your face heated up fast. He was taunting you. “Hmm… What do we do about this, (Y/N)? My sister is a slut for her own brother’s cock. What a pity…”
“B- But… we aren’t related— and I’m not a s- slut…” Covering your face in the palm of your hands, you tried to cling to the last bit of denial you had. You two weren't even related by blood. Each time you reminded him, he would dismiss you.
“Oh? Then what’s this?” He brought the nectar from your slick up close and played with it along his fingers. Soon, he retracted his hands and suckled on his fingers as he savored the taste. Spreading your legs further apart, he examined the liquid that oozed out of your core, begging to be fucked. “Only sluts get excited when their brother does this.”
Soon, he presses his thumb onto the hood of your clit and gives the bud a few rubs. His index and middle finger graze against your folds, earning a suppressed gasp from your lips. Dancing around your opening, his fingers prodded around your tight hole. Eagerly quickening the pace of his fingers, he felt your wet opening ooze clear liquid and cover his thick fingers.
Your moans and his dampening skin urged him to breach your virgin walls; Shinso wanted to be patient, he really did, but it was wearing thin. Dipping into your core, you convulsed in pain as you felt one of his fingers explore. Watching you tremble, he caressed the smooth skin on your thighs to help you relax; see, he wasn’t heartless.
A burning sensation in the pit of your stomach replaced the pleasure given to your clit. You couldn’t bite your tongue to stop the noises from echoing in his bedroom, loud moans and shaky breaths bounced off the thin walls. Secretly, he always dreamed of the day this room would be occupied with it. Another gasp escaped your mouth as you clenched tightly around a second digit entering you, stretching your walls, and prepping you. The sickening squelching sounds harmoniously played with your moans, music to Shinso’s ears.
Pleasure finally began to cloud your foggy mind as you clenched harder around his two fingers and your pained mewls began to dissipate. He leaned down and kissed your thighs to coax your body into a release. Dancing around a spot that made you shudder, his fingers molded perfectly into your opening. A wave of intense bliss covered your lower half. You could feel him smirking against your skin; you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?
“It’s alright, babygirl… let it all out for me…” Shinso whispered into your skin. Your hands claw at his sheets, searching for something to grab, anything. Arching your back against the sheets while your eyelids clench shut, you can finally feel a sweet rush of pleasure.
“Mmph!~ Oh… No… S- Shinso…!” Your walls spasmed and convulsed around his fingers as somewhat pleasant-sounding moans erupted from your vocal cords. The warm feeling at the pit of your tummy finally releases as you feel his fingers coat in a hot sticky substance. Essence covering his digits, he could feel himself aching in his sweatpants.
“That’s it… such a good girl,” Pulling away from your thighs, he slowly removed his fingers. Leaving you empty for a few seconds, his head disappeared between your legs. Shinso’s warm tongue greedily licked your nectar as it trickled down your crevice and seeped into his bedsheets.
“Mmmh~ Ah…! W- Wait..!” As your fingers pulled and ran through his thick locks of hair, he pinned your body tightly to the mattress. Shinso released a hum as his nails dug into your hips. It was too much, his tongue would graze over your sensitive bud as your moans became noisier.
Once satisfied, he pulled his head away from your panting body. His lips were covered in the same essence that filled your slick. He licked them once more as he smirked down at you. Tugging at the hem of his shirt, he tore the fabric off his body before briefly moving off the bed to discard his sweatpants. You couldn't help but peer down at him and glance at his stiffened member.
Trimmed violet hair covered the base. What he lacked in girth was generously replaced by his length. The red tip oozed with clear pre-cum. He couldn't wait anymore. Another deep yet warm chuckle caused a tingle in your fragile core. Shinso watched as your hands covered your hot face. How cute!
"Just relax," He purred softly while wrapping his fingers around your wrists and gently moving your hands away. Shinso didn't know the sight of you being so vulnerable and untouched would excite him this much. He knew that by the end of this session, you would finally learn to obey. "Is Kitten scared? I told you I wouldn't bite." He leaned down until your faces were only inches apart and left a chaste but loving kiss on your lips. Remnants of your nectar managed to seep onto your tongue.
"'m not scared..." What a fucking liar. You aren't scared, but as his arm rests next to your head, you're trembling. You aren't scared, but as his other hand pumps his length and his sticky pre-cum leaks between your legs and mixes with yours, you're intoxicated. The lavender aroma of his room fills your lungs once more and makes your mind hazy.
He teasingly laughs at your demeanor as he pulls away from your body. Shinso didn't want you to be scared of him. He was already used to that feeling from his old classmates and civilians. It would've pained him if he frightened you. That wasn't the point of this. He could humiliate you endlessly for doing this, but he was worse than you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you watch as he positions himself at your entrance.
"Don't worry, doll. This won't hurt too bad... as long as you obey..." Of course, he knew you had no choice but to obey. Rubbing the tip along your folds, he watched as he started to glisten in a clear mixture of your mess.
As you peered up at him, you were greeted with his indigo eyes staring down at you. They set your body in a trance, a warm and inviting gaze cast down upon you. Did it still feel wrong? Mesmerized by his beauty, you were too distracted to notice him gently pushing his length inside.
Filling you up inch by inch, sudden pressure and a burning sensation much worse than his fingers broke you. You sharply inhaled while your brother released a low grunt and muttered some curses under his breath. As his eyes fluttered and tightly closed with the sudden feeling of pleasure, you instinctively cupped his face while feeling tears swell up in your eyes.
"Shinso..." Gasping tightly as he finally sheathed deep inside your walls, you cradled his head in your hands. Your hold on his face tightened as you felt a sudden rush of foreign sensations. The lower half of your body became riddled with unbearable pain as you enveloped him. He must've noticed the furrowing of your eyebrows and the tears that threatened to spill because soon, he broke free from your hold and slipped into the crook of your shoulder.
Gently rocking his hips slowly, he tried to allow you to adjust and keep his composure. Shinso briefly wondered if he could succumb to his own satisfaction and release his frustrations on you. Bucking into you at a brutal pace until he finally reached the release he was desperately searching for. If it wasn't for your hushed whines, his patience would've run thin. God, he wished he would've done this sooner. If he knew it would be this easy to claim you for his own, he would've tamed you a long time ago.
As time passed and you eased into his touches, his thrusts became more energetic. Nuzzling his face into your shoulder, it was a shame to admit that his low grunts and heavy breaths against your face began to excite you. The once painful thrusts inside your wet cavern had become a warm smoldering feeling as his length massaged your gummy walls. Whispering sweet nothings and nipping at the skin on your shoulder, Shinso didn't care if you two were caught; he'd gone too far. There was no returning to the way things were.
Lifting himself up the mattress, one of his hands grasped your inner thigh and spread your legs further until you felt his cock brush against a sensitive region. He could feel you throbbing around him and relished in your sounds of pure ecstasy.
"Denki could never fuck you like this, right?" Shinso said as his eyes darkened, saying his name made him sick. Once he felt your pussy flutter against his shaft, he knew he couldn't say the same for you.
"I- I don't-" He wouldn't let you finish before you felt his thick fingers wrap around your throat and forced your eyes open as oxygen escaped your lungs.
"God, I bet you wish it was him fucking you... hmm?" His thrusts began to slowly come to a halt. He rolled his hips agonizingly slow as his tip grazed your spot continuously.
"Sh- Shinso... it hurts... I can't-" Immediately, his grip loosened as you huffed deep breaths. Still holding onto your neck, he tilted your head and locked your jaw in place to prevent you from moving. Your hands went to his wrist as you tried to scratch at him and pull him away, but he wouldn't budge.
"I've been waiting for so long, but I won't let that fucker touch you." He bit his tongue and held his hips back from pounding you into the mattress. Shinso just wanted to cum, and flood your walls with his seed — the most ungodly thing he could do. He edged against your spot more, coaxing you further into another orgasm. He watched as your back slightly arched into the mattress while you tugged at his duvet. With each roll of his hips, yours would press down against him, chasing a climax. "You're so pathetic, really."
"No... hnng~ I- I'm not..." You barely managed to choke those words out.
"Oh..? But you couldn't take your eyes off of him when you two met last week..." Shinso recalled your meeting with Denki in front of their agency only a few weeks ago. Like you, the words and his memory seemed stuck in his throat.
"Shinso-nii, I- I don't like him..." He tilted your face until you two were at eye level.
"Don't fucking call me that right now." He sighed and paused before continuing, "I saw it last night." His hips finally stilled as his nails left a stinging pain in your thigh and indents on your skin.
"W- What?" He watched you nervously gulp and stare fearfully at him. Don't act innocently when your face gives you away.
"You..." A headache erupted as he recalled the previous night. "You gave him a great show last night. Topless. Tell me, was it fun? I heard him, loud as a fucking dog." Fuck. He heard everything? Your mind was blank. You could remember video-calling Denki. He said he just wanted to see you, one thing led to another... and...
"Toshi... I'm so sorry..! I- I didn't mean to... he just said he wanted to see me... please don't tell him..!" Toshi, you only called him that whenever you apologized. Tears cascaded from your eyes. You were truly sorry. He succeeded in breaking you. You pulled him closer to you, almost making him tumble. The sudden friction reminded him of his aching cock nearly spilling inside you. He needed to hurry.
"Don't apologize to me. Father heard it too. You're a shame to our family." His words stung like daggers, piercing your fragile heart, but he was right. More water leaked from your reddening eyes, and he reached down and coddled you. "What if he shows those pictures to his friends? People already avoid me. Now they'll laugh at me for having a slutty sister. You want that to happen to your big brother?"
"No... I don't want that to happen to you, Hitoshi... I'm so sorry..." Your arms still wrapped around his shoulders tightly, too scared to let him go. He caressed your arm and cooed his words into your ear.
"I know you're sorry... but you need to prove it to me." Your ears perked up as you stared at him, excited yet confused. "I can protect you. Just submit to me, obey me." He kissed the underside of your jaw, expecting you to deny him again. "Only look at me, nobody else... Please, don't leave me. Let me take care of you. Let me love you... I can do it. Just give me a chance." The tone of his voice raised as he finished his sentence. He was pleading with you.
"O- Okay, Toshi... I'll listen, I promise..." He smiled into your skin, not a teasing smirk but genuine happiness. Overjoyed, he couldn't stop his hips from rutting into your pussy again, catching you off-guard.
His thrusts were much sloppier. He'd been drawing near this whole time but suppressed it. Shinso pulled your body closer as your legs wrapped around his waist. Nearly lifting you off his bed, you could feel him enter you with each thrust, quicker than before, and graze against your tender spot again.
The sounds of your mixed juices, smacking flesh, and the smell of sweaty bodies bounced off the walls in his room. The walls were so thin that anybody could hear; your loud and high-pitched moans were surely heard by passersby and neighbors. He guides one of his hands down to your clit, rubbing vigorous circles on your sex and coating his fingers.
"Hmmf~, oh my-... I- I'm so... close..." Your fingers intertwined with his thick indigo hair as your nails scratched his back. "k- keep going... gosh, you're so good... Toshi-nii..." Murmuring endless praises and words of affection into his ear, he could feel himself becoming undone with every twitch and throb of your soft walls. "I... f- fuck... I think... ah~!"
Convulsing in his arms as you clenched tightly around him, Shinso felt your warm liquid creaming around his shaft as he pounded into your dripping cunt. Your spasming walls drew him closer and closer to his own release. Patting his head and repeating countless affirmations of your love for him, you felt him twitch inside you a few times as his breathing heavied. "you feel so good in me, toshi-nii" "please cum inside me, my pussy wants it inside..."
What kind of brother would he be if he didn't oblige your wishes? Harshly gripping your hips and sinking his teeth into your neck, you felt him release another pained yet loud groan as he inhaled your scent. Sinking your hips down to bury deep inside your walls, you felt his body quiver above you. His essence painted your insides white, milking him of all his cum until he was empty. Huffing and puffing, his body fell forward on your chest while you continued to hold him tight.
"Fuck... you're so amazing, kitten..." Once he regained some strength, he caressed your warm cheeks before leaning down and capturing your lips in a deep kiss. Raising himself up, he slid out of your filled hole and watched as some of his cum oozed out. Shinso's tip still leaked thick drops of his creamy cum. "I love you so much, doll..."
"I love you too, Toshi..." You replied back to him. After catching your breath for a few seconds, you spoke again. "Won't I need to take medicine now?"
"Oh... you mean Plan B? I'll pick some up in the morning for you." This night was fun, but Shinso didn't want to imagine you pregnant. Aizawa wouldn’t let him live.
A sudden tap at the door broke Shinso from his long thoughts. Your eyes peered behind his frame in shock, catching a glimpse of his soul leaving his body as he soon followed suit and turned around.
"(Y/N)? Shinso...?" There he was, the very same man you owed a sincere apology to. Still in his hero attire, just returning from work and patrolling. His voice was quiet yet agitated, the same tone Shinso heard after your rendezvous with Denki.
You crawled towards Shinso's chest and hid your bare body away from Aizawa. It was too late. He saw everything he needed to see. Your naked body only confirmed his suspicions. This has to be a dream. It must be a dream. Aizawa blinked his eyes in an obnoxious pattern as if it would change any of the events in front of him. Father, I'm sorry, but this is real. He must've finally understood, his hand ran through his thick black hair as he sighed deeply and tried to repress the rage building up inside of him.
"Oh... you're home early." Shinso finally broke the silent tension in the air. He chuckles to himself before standing up from the mattress, not caring about his bare lower half. You scurried to cover yourself. It was already humiliating enough. "Can you pick up some Plan B tomorrow, Dad? We'll need a few."
He put on his sweatpants before reaching down to help you off the bed. Placing one of his old shirts on your body, he strode confidently to your father, who stood in disbelief.
"Shinso…" Aizawa began, but... what would he say? As the seconds passed at a dreadfully slow pace, he spoke. “You two fucked, didn’t you? Shit, I don’t even need to ask.”
“Yeah, we did…” He held onto you tightly, expecting his father to intervene and take you away, but his feet were still firm. He couldn't let that happen after he worked hard to claim you.
“Didn’t I tell you to wait for me first?”
“You know I hate sharing,” Shinsou helped you up off his bed. A damp stain of his cum sullied his clean sheets, the image only irritating his father more. “Besides, you always get to fuck who you want before me.”
His shoulder barged into his father, nearly knocking him off balance as he tried to reach for you. You peered back at him, his hand was still extended, but you kept walking. Shinso dragged you to the bathroom to clean up. He whispers something about the walls being echoey and tells you to scream loud until his father and the neighbors could hear. Aizawa watches as you nod eagerly and fade down the hallway into the bathroom.
#tw pseudocest#tw dubcon#mha smut#bnha smut#my hero academia smut#shinsou hitoshi smut#shinsou fanfic#shinsou smut#shinsou x reader#mha shinsou smut#shinsou headcanons#mha headcanons#shinsou x you#shinsou x y/n#shinsou imagine#hitoshi shinsou#shinsou hitoshi fic#mha x reader#bnha x reader#mha x female reader#shinso smut#shinso x reader#shinso x you#shinso x y/n#shinso headcanons#shinso imagine#shinso drabble
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Forgot something
Shinsou Hitoshi (MHA) Drabble
“I’m heading out for patrol.” You said, still putting on your shoes.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Shinsou asked.
You thought about it for a moment. Eventually you stood up and walked towards Shinsou, giving a quick kiss. Shinsou looked at you flustered - his cheeks turning red. He looked away, opening up his arms holding your wallet.
“I meant this, but thanks.” He mumbled softly.
You thanked Shinsou, taking your wallet from him before walking out the door. Shinsou was about to walk back to your room when you opened the door again to give him another kiss before actually leaving for patrol.
a/n: this was writing practice but i thought it was really cute so i decided to post it. Enjoy!
#shinsou hitoshi#shinsou#shinsou fanfic#shinsou hitoshi fanfic#shinsou x reader#shinsou hitoshi x reader#hitoshi shinsou#hitoshi shinsou x reader#mha fanfic#bnha fanfic#bnha shinsou#mha shinsou#mha x reader#bnha x reader
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This oneshot is a continuation of this audio from Anigomi, for their 1,000 Discord members contest. My writing here does get a bit cheesy since, as I said, fluff and romance-type stuff isn't my strong suit, but I've been listening to this audio pretty much every day since it was published and I just felt I had to choose this one for my prompt :)
Hope you enjoy! Likes, reblogs, comments & follows are appreciated!
cafés, cookies and kisses : hitoshi shinsou x gn!reader
“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”
Hitoshi’s words still rang in your ears. They were bouncing around in your head, loud and clear. Even just thinking about all that had happened only a few hours ago was enough to make your pulse quicken slightly. His sweet, gentle kisses, the soft way he had gazed at you, the adorable blush on his cheeks after learning his feelings were returned. Honestly, it was all a bit much to take in, especially since you both had been running on no more than a few hours of sleep and several strong cups of coffee.
You had to admit, gazing over the city lights and up at the stars had been the perfect place for him to reveal his feelings though. You were almost certain that watching the sunrise cast those golden rays onto his perfect face had made you fall for him even more.
Exactly how long had he had a crush on you anyway? And when had you fallen for him?
You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Either way, it was done now. He was officially your boyfriend, and he was officially taking you on a date before it had even gone 7 a.m.
Your patrol shift had ended a while ago. Even as newly licensed pro heroes, you still needed sleep, although you had quite clearly chosen to ignore that fact, going on patrol in overnight shifts. It was still the middle of the week, and you had to check back in at the agency you both worked at in under two hours. Plus, Hitoshi still needed to see your previous homeroom teacher later.
Despite being a pro, he often went back to see the now-retired hero Eraser Head, sometimes to show off his progress, sometimes just for a catch-up. There was no way to tell if Eraser would complain about Hitoshi’s exhausted state by the time he got to U.A., but there was something inside you both, a feeling, that just made you not care about it. Eraser could judge all he wanted, but it would just make him a hypocrite. After all, the man was well known at U.A. High to sleep whenever the opportunity presented itself.
You walked along the empty street along the side of the road, Hitoshi at your side. It was a comfortable silence, both of you lost in thought. The few pedestrians and commuters you passed gave a quick nod of acknowledgement and hurried on.
Your hand brushed subtly past Hitoshi’s a couple of times as you walked on, but you soon felt his fingers gently begin to lock together with your own.
“Is it… okay if we hold hands?” he asked softly, barely audible even in the almost deserted morning street. His demeanour caught you slightly off guard, since he’d sort of struck you as the more confident, cocky kind of guy. But he was so nervous, it was actually kind of cute.
“Sure.” You took his hand more firmly in your own and gave him a little smile of reassurance. The way he turned his head away, in embarrassment, most likely, made your heart squeeze and warm in your chest.
Hitoshi continued to lead you down the empty roads, occasionally making small talk.
“There’s a small café nearby I’d like to take you, if that’s alright?” he said.
You agreed, and soon enough, he turned onto a side street, still clutching your hand. There, a cosy and warm-looking café was tucked away between the buildings. It was the only source of light on the whole street, besides the early morning sun. It cast a warm golden glow onto the pavement and road around it. It seemed to be inviting you in in every way.
“Come on.” He grinned a little. “You’ll love this place. I’ve been meaning to take you here for a while but I wanted our first visit here to be special.”
The childish excitement in his eyes as he spoke was almost too much. You hadn’t seen him so excited for a while. He must be over the moon.
Hitoshi opened and held the door for you as you approached the café slightly behind him. A quiet tinkle from the bell over the door and the warmth of the café as compared to outside gave the place a very homey feel to it. Even though it was nearly summer, the mornings could still be a little chilly from the overnight temperature drop, so you were both grateful for the heat.
A slightly older lady stood behind the counter, looking as though she was counting change. She looked up as you both entered.
“Hitoshi?” She peered at him as he closed the door quietly. “It’s been a while since you stopped here, love.”
“Yeah, sorry. I’ve been kept pretty busy with hero work.”
“I understand. You’ve plenty of work to do as a pro.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” he sighed. He gestured around the café. “Where do you want to sit sweetheart?”
You paused for a moment to look around the small room. A table set for two in the window to the street caught your eye.
“Let’s go over there,” you suggested.
“Good choice.”
The lady behind the counter, who you judged to be the owner of the place, watched you as you sat down with Hitoshi.
“So, you’ve got yourself a partner now, Hitoshi,” she observed.
Hitoshi sat down stiffly. “Yes.”
“Don’t be embarrassed dear,” she chuckled.
“I’m… I’m not.”
“Sure about that?” you teased, watching his face heat up all over again.
“Yes, of course,” he muttered. He put his head down and stared at the rather limited menu card on the table. You skimmed over the foods and drinks listed. Coffees, plain milk, juices… nothing really stood out to you that any other café might not have. Waffles, pancakes, croissants, bagels… again, nothing really that special.
“I'll just have a black coffee and a waffle, please,” Hitoshi stated. The lady behind the counter nodded and noted his order down.
You took another quick moment to think and then told the lady your order too.
The order came pretty quickly, since you two were the only people in the cafe. It was an enjoyable breakfast. The combined warmth of the café's inside and your food almost made you feel tingly all over.
Occasionally, as you both ate, you looked up and caught Hitoshi gazing at you. It seemed he never learned, as with each time you saw him drop his eyes too slow, you laughed a little more.
Perhaps he was doing it on purpose. Maybe your laughs meant the world to him. Hearing you happy was possibly what made him happy too.
You looked at him a bit longer. The shadow of a small smile on his face confirmed your suspicions.
An idea abruptly popped into your head. One that would no doubt fluster him, but you felt the irresistible urge to show him your own affections.
You glanced up at the counter. The lady was nowhere in sight. You recalled seeing her disappear to the back of the store through the door behind the counter.
Great, you thought.
Hitoshi was picking slowly at his waffle. It was kind of cute, the way he poked it around with his fork. Your heart sped up a little as you stood up and moved around the corner of the table to where he was sitting.
You bent down a little and planted a small kiss on his cheek.
“Here? Really?” he asked. It took you by surprise. You had expected him to go redder than he had gone.
“Well, why not?” You shrugged. “It’s not like we’re in a big crowd or whatever.”
“I guess…” he hummed. Before you knew it, he was pulling you down again and pressing his lips on your own.
Your pulse picked up instantly. He tasted somewhat of coffee and sugar as he breathed into you.
A noise behind you made you quickly break apart from him. You turned around and spotted the old lady, walking backwards through the door with a tray of something. So she hadn't seen.
You exchanged a relieved glance with Hitoshi when you both realised. She turned around properly and placed the tray on the glass counter, and began placing the items into the display.
“What are you doing standing up, dear?” she asked as she noticed you next to Hitoshi. “Are you leaving now?”
Your mind raced as you struggled to find an excuse.
“They were just coming to try my coffee, weren't you sweetheart?”
“Uh, yeah. I was.” You made a show of grabbing your boyfriend's coffee and taking a sip. You tried to suppress your splutter. “Jeez, Toshi, that's bitter!”
“It's literally just straight up black coffee, I don't know what you expected.” He took a final drink of the coffee left in the bottom of the mug and stood up. “Well, we'd best be on our way. We still have to get to work soon, and they're expecting a report from last night's patrol.”
“I understand, dear. But before you go, come over Hitoshi,” she replied. You watched as she placed a brown paper bag into his hands. “They're for you two. I hope you like them.”
Hitoshi sneaked a glance into the bag and smiled. “Thanks.”
“What is it?” you asked as he closed the café door behind him. He reached into the bag and when his hand re-emerged, he held out a heart-shaped cookie.
“Cheesy, I know, but isn't it cute?”
You laughed a little. “Of course.”
“But you know what's cuter?”
“What?”
He threw an arm around your shoulder. “You.”
- End -
Yeaaah! Cheesy Hitoshi stuff, I love him and this is mostly a self-indulgent fic hahaha
> DO NOT COPY/REPOST.
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Hitoshi Shinsou with a Hyper/Chaotic S/O Headcanons
❀ Back to Navigation ❀
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi
MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist
WARNINGS: Nothing!
Requested by: @smallxbunny
Hihi~! So I saw that your requests is open, so I was wondering if you could write Hitoshi with a hyper/chaotic S/O headcanons, hope you have a nice day btw~~ <333
A/N: Hey hey!!! So sorry these took longer than I thought they would, but omg they were so fun to make! I hope you all enjoy these fun headcanons and let me know if you want more posts like these or a part two!
So we all know Shinsou is kind of unbothered with most things, so dating someone who has a lot of energy wouldn’t be completely out of the question
Relies on you as his morning alarm
When he needs to get to early morning training, has an early class, etc. you’re always there with a smile on your face and coffee or caffeinated tea in hand
Sleepovers/chill nights in watching a movie are not always easy since sitting still isn’t something you’re keen on doing
But, over time, he’s found tips and tricks that help you relax and enjoy just hanging out on the couch with him
Weighted blankets do wonders
Sometimes your competing personalities can lead to arguments - especially when it comes to dates
The both of you will have something planned, but then Shinsou’s social battery kind of runs out and he’ll call for a rain-check
You, however, are game for anything anytime so you can get pretty frustrated when he’ll cancel stuff like this
However, in the end, the both of you will just settle for a breakfast date the next morning at the cafe you both like
Speaking of dates, the both you and Shinsou will plan dates that appeal to both of you
Some of these dates include:
Cat cafés (you get to be out and about, Shinsou can hang with cats)
Aquariums (You get to mill about and ask the staff questions about all the animals, Shinsou can stay happily in the darker lighting)
Picking fruit (The sun beating on your face is so pleasant and you get to go climbing in trees to find the best apples and peaches, Shinsou gets a yummy snack along the way)
When it comes to hero training, he is so in awe of you
The way you can bounce back from anything is so admirable
But, there are times when you don’t get immediately back up and he gets super worried
Because you are hyper, this can lead to you overworking yourself and being quite exhausted – which he can absolutely understand
During times like these, he’ll carry you either on his back or koala style into his dorm – since it’s definitely the coziest, and let you sprawl out on his bed while he plays video games or reads
Now – for your chaotic side
Oh, Shinsou is always there with you whenever you’re messing with other people or playing pranks on others.
He’ll never use his quirk to pull anything off – he thinks that’s lazy and lacks effort, even for him
The two of you create MASTERMIND level pranks
And, when your plans finally fall into place – which they always do – he’ll give you a searing kiss on the lips and hold your hand, pulling you along to get a picture of whichever poor UA student fell into your clutches
Ok general relationship stuff now
He was scared shitless to ask you out the first time
He didn’t really think that he was the kind of person that you would want to date
However, you saw that the chill and tired personality he has was really attractive to you
The way he asked you out was sweet and a little awkward, since he was looking at the floor basically the entire time, but your enthusiasm for the date reassured him
It was a bit tough for the two of you to fall into an easy relationship rhythm
As aforementioned, dates and canceling them, love languages, and all that kind of stuff clashed with the two of you
Finally, after a month or so of phone tag and miscommunication, the two of you sat down and talked it out, explaining what you and Shinsou saw in a relationship
From there one out it was smooth sailing
You, due to your hyper/chaotic nature, are very go with the flow and live in the moment
Shinsou has you future lives already planned
First shared home, wedding, married life – everything
He is so in love with you and so whipped for you that he knows every little detail about things you love
Favorite flower? He knows it
Color? Oh come on, he’s not an amateur
Food or snacks? He’s got all of it cataloged and stocked up in his mini fridge in his room
Through everything, where you’re similar and where you’re different, he loves you and you love him so so freaking much
Taglist
@luluwiie ~ All-Flora Florist
@maiacroson ~ All-Flora Florist
@nerdypuppytimemachine ~ All-Flora Florist
@softvanlla All-Flora Florist
@catguinsstuff ~ All-Flora Florist
@smallxbunny ~ All-Flora Florist
@palenightmarepersona ~ All-Flora Florist, All-Tree Arborist
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Until death brings us together (Ghost!Shinsouxreader) - Chapter 3: Ghost
Title: Until death brings us together
Tags/Warnings: Shinsou x reader, ghost!Shinshou, modern AU, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Character Death, depression, toxic friendship (not with Shinsou), sadness, pain, needles, perfusion, hospitals, mention of cancer, drugged drinks, ethylic coma, accidental death, suffering, disease, bullying
Summary: It starts slowly, insidiously; the sadness, the restless nights, the tears you silently cry at night alone in your empty apartment. That’s coincidently when you start seeing him: the man with the deep violet eyes, and he’s following you.Is he an evil spirit? Is he death? Or is he your depressed mind playing tricks on you?
Read on AO3
Shinsou Hitoshi.
His pale face and tired eyes are looking at you through the computer screen. The photo isn’t flattering; he doesn’t smile on it. Isn’t joyful like young people usually are; full of life and innocence. No, he looks bored… or maybe troubled; sad.
You scroll down the online article from your local newspaper, the blue light reflecting on your skin, making it look as sickly as his.
Your eyes scan over the important words. The heart-wrenching words.
Bullying.
With every sentence you read, your frown deepens.
Med school integration party.
You worry at your lower lip, your stomach icing.
Prank gone wrong… drugged drink….
A grown involuntarily escapes you. You’ve been witness to these practices when you were in training.
Coma.
The memory of these supposedly fun parties you attended make you feel guilty, even if you never took part in this particular type of stupid and dangerous ‘pranking’.
With blurry eyes you read the final words, even though you didn’t need them to understand. It was all too clear the second you clicked on the article.
Died in the hospital.
Now you have it confirmed. Hitoshi isn’t a produce of your sick mind. He truly is a ghost. He’s not death. He’s dead.
“Gosh Hitoshi… you’re real” You mutter to yourself, teary eyed.
You rub your tired eyes, leaning back against the back of your couch, and when you open them, there’s a ghostly face just beside yours, looking at the screen of your laptop over your shoulder.
“Holy shit!” You curse as you scramble away from Hitoshi who is now sitting beside you. You hug one of your rainbow cushions close to your chest in a reflexive attempt to somehow protect yourself. “Don’t appear beside me so suddenly!”
“I don’t really control whatever this is” He looks away, his lips turned down. “I though you called me” His big hand rubs the back of his neck, and it’s clear that he is a little embarrassed.
You try to calm your racing heart with a shaky breath. While you compose yourself, Hitoshi reads the article. He’s frowning so much his forehead is all wrinkled, his usually soft gaze stone hard when he finds your eyes again.
“I remember now” He sighs deeply, and there is a tremble to his voice when he repeats it. “I remember everything”
He closes his eyes as he draws of few shaky breaths, and you completely forget his supernatural nature when your hand drops onto his shoulder. A reflex, a gesture of empathy you use everyday with your patients. Yet under your palm, there is nothing. Your hand doesn’t go through him but there is no solidity to him either, no consistency. Your brain has difficulty wrapping itself around the fact that you are touching something that you see but isn’t here.
You don’t really touch him physically but the gesture still has him turn to you, his amethyst eyes wet with unshed tears he is trying to keep to himself. There’s a tingling warmth under your palm, so faint you’re not even sure it’s there. You’re probably just imagining it, but your mind whispers that it’s probably him.
“I understand now why it all felt familiar. The café, the hospital… I used to go there” He takes a long inhale to shake away the tremble in his voice. You listen to him, give him time, patience, and an empathic ear. There’s really nothing more you can do. It’s too late. You can’t save him from what’s already done.
“I suppose there’s a part of me that wanted to act like I did before I-” He swallows, forcibly, and clicks his tongue, frowning like he’s upset. “There was a part of me that pushed me to continue to live…. Or more like pretend I was still alive.”
He lingered in familiar places. A ghost haunting the spots he knew by heart, attached to this world from which he was taken too soon.
“And I understand now; that strong feeling I got when I saw how the one you called a friend treated you” His expression is revolted when he finds your eyes, looking straight into them.
His sorrow makes your heart sink in your chest and you can’t refrain the tears from coming to wet your lashes. Your hand, suspended over the warm place that is his shoulder, trembles.
“I experienced it. Friendship that wasn’t true. Jokes that weren’t funny. And I didn’t want-” He looks down, grits his teeth, the words he wants to convey painful to utter. At the café, he tried to protect you. To keep you from something that was fatal for him.
Your hand travels down his arm that is solely made of empty warm air until you reach his hand. Placing yours on top of his you hope that if he doesn’t feel the touch, he at least understands the gesture, the comfort you want to convey.
One eye dares glance at you, and you regret the way you treated this poor soul. How you once thought he could be bad. How you pushed him away. You remember how lost he sounded in every word he said, but too lost in your own problems, you were blind to his suffering.
“I’m sorry”
There’s nothing more you can say. Nothing you can do besides being there for him, you who can see him. Nothing to do but be there and listen to him.
One lonely tear travels down his pale cheek, but he still forces a smile your way.
“Thank you” He whispers.
You nod your head even if you’re convinced you didn’t do anything worthy of his gratitude. You think back to the pills that you put away in your bathroom’s cabinet.
“I should be the one to thank you”
He snorts, unamused. “For what? Helping you question your sanity?”
“For being there when I needed help” You answer lowly, seriously.
You’re sure you don’t imagine the red colour rising to his cheeks. “Maybe….” He starts, rubbing his eyes with the palm of the hand you’re not trying to hold. “Maybe that’s why I’m still here. To help”
You contemplate his statement, the mysteries of afterlife and its immensity making you dizzy. Could one chose to stay, even unconsciously, to guide others where one had failed? What awaited after life was over? Surely not everyone returned as ghost like Hitoshi. You shake away those vertiginous thoughts about things far greater than you and concentrate back on the ghost who needs you right now. He looks pensive, contemplating his paranormal nature, trying to wrap his mind around concepts so complex you can’t begin to imagine them.
“If you need time to figure things out, you can stay here as long as you want” You offer after turning the sentence several times in your head. “If you need to talk I’ll be there for you”
Afterall, it is in your nature to be empathic, that is part of why you became a nurse. And in truth, you have to admit you enjoy his company. The memories of the time you spent with him during these last weeks, even if you thought he was some projection of your mind, filled your heart with a fondness you suspected was what one should feel towards true friends.
Hitoshi looks up, surprised, flustered almost. “I didn’t mean to intrude into your space. I didn’t think it possible for me to appear in a place I didn’t know… That’s why I said I thought you somehow called me, or summoned me”
He runs a nervous hand through his messy hair. It looks really fluffy, soft. A shame you will never feel it under your fingers.
“Summon you? What are you now, a demon?” You joke to lighten the mood. “Are you going to offer me a cornucopia of ice-cream in exchange for my soul?”
His eyes are still teary but his perfectly white smile is in place when he answers “Buying your soul comes at a cheap price”
You laugh with him, regretting that you can’t shove him playfully after his clever retort. He’s closer to an angel than a demon you think. Because he came to watch over you when you were in a really bad place.
- - -
“Are you sure you want to go? You’ll be okay?” You ask as you bury your neck into your scarf to protect your runny nose from the cold morning air.
Hitoshi had insisted to go with you to work. You had accepted, but you still doubted it was a good idea to put him in an environment that would bring back memories as well as glimpses of what his life could have been.
“I think so” He answers, more determined than hesitant.
“If you find it’s too difficult to cope, just say so, don’t endure in silence” You insist, warning him to not push himself too far, protecting him like you do with students you sometimes supervise. Students who collapse in the operating room because they thought they could handle their dizziness, when you told them to get out of the OR if they felt the slightest tinge of unease.
After this remark, you’re surprised to find Hitoshi smiling at you, almost wickedly. “Are you perhaps worried about me?” He asks, his voice so low it sends a shiver down your spine. A pleasant one.
“I’m a nurse, caring about people is my job!” You reply, your cheeks admittedly feeling warm, and not because of the cold morning breeze.
“Indeed, I’m sure you are great at your job” His smiles falters with his next words. “People who put others first often do good in health professions. At least until they burn out.”
His opinion on the matter is gloomy, yet you can’t argue you’re not like the people he described, so you remain silent, burying your face deeper into your scarf. You much prefer when he teases you than when he reads right through you. It makes you feel exposed, like an opened book coded in a language he easily speaks.
Maybe you’re too kind, maybe you’re a pushover; selfless in a way that is almost dangerous for your health. But something tells you he probably used to be a bit like that too.
- - -
“You work in the ICU?” Hitoshi asks with an unusually high pitch. He sounds strangled, a slight tremble in his voice that you don’t notice right away, too busy getting ready for work as not to be late.
You nod absentmindedly. “Yeah, why?”
Hitoshi doesn’t reply immediately. He stands before the glass doors of the ward, pensive.
“The week after the party, I was supposed to start as a resident here” His voice is a barely audible whisper but you can see how shocked he is to find out where you work.
You would have met, at work. You would have interacted, at first formally, professionally, and then your interactions could have become friendlier, given you were almost the same age. Maybe you would have seen each other outside of work. You treacherous mind suggests you could even have dated. He did say you were pretty, and you couldn’t lie to yourself about how attractive you found him.
He’s clearly upset about this revelation.
“Do you want to go home?” You ask him softly, concerned.
The words escaped you before you could think about them. Truth is, he has no home. He sometimes appears in yours because you allowed him to, because you want him to, when you need someone to talk to. But he has nowhere to go.
You click your tongue at your own stupidity, and you’re about to correct your mistake but he speaks before you do.
“I’m fine. I just need a minute to process things” His eyes are still glued to the glass doors where the large “ICU” letters are painted in pure white, but his gaze is lost much farther away. “Don’t let me make you late, I’ll join you later.”
You nod in acknowledgment and reluctantly leave him there to take your shift.
- - -
After short transmissions with your colleagues, you start your round. You have many patients to take care of because one of your colleagues is ill and can’t be replaced today. The transmissions are scarce because you were forced to reduce them, because it costs too much to pay for extra hours. So you’re left with barely no information about patients you don’t know. You lose time browsing their files to gather up the most important details about them, and it’s late that you start handing the treatments, preparing the infusions, and all the other care you have to provide in the limited time of your shift.
When comes the last patient, you still find time to linger in her room. You know her well, she’s been here the longest. Her name is Maru, and she suffers from a severe septicemia. Her body is weakened by a breast cancer and the chemotherapy left her so immunocompromised that she can’t fight off the infection that’s spreading into her blood. You perfuse her to give her a new antibiotic treatment the doctor prescribed. He said it’s the last one he can try. The germs are killing her faster than the cancer. She suffers a great deal, and you also refill the syringe with her painkillers so she can sleep better. The cancer is everywhere; in her lungs, her bones, her liver, even in her brain. She has difficulty speaking, but she gives you a soft smile when you take a minute to squeeze her hand once you’re finished with your work. She’s not older than your mom. It pains you to see her in this state, bald from the chemotherapy, wrinkled like she’s much older than she actually is.
You can’t cry for her, it’s not professional. But you still feel sad. It’s unfair, she’s so nice. You give her one last forced smile before exiting the room.
There’s still no sign of Hitoshi when you take a small break to eat a cereal bar for diner. You sigh to yourself. You though his presence would at least make work easier.
The night is mostly calm, until Maru’s chamber rings in the nurse office.
You rush to her side, and you find her in great pain, her face contorted in an ugly grimace. From the corner of your eyes you spot a silhouette before her bed. You’ve gotten used to Hitoshi appearing out of nowhere so you’re not startled when you find him reading the patient’s file.
You��re glad he’s here but you ignore him for now and check the infusions as well as the patient controlled analgesia syringe. The data show you the painkillers prescribed are obviously not enough, so after taking Maru’s vitals, you call the on call doctor for a new prescription.
However he doesn’t answer. You try several times but it’s no use. He’s probably occupied elsewhere with a more urgent matter. Now that you think about it you overheard a colleague talk about a code blue on the first floor.
You try your best to find ways to alleviate Maru’s pain, but it just won’t leave her alone. She’s sweating and tense from discomfort and you have to watch her moan and struggle against it, powerless.
Hitoshi comes to sit on the edge of her bed. He turns to you, eyes focused, almost professionally so.
“She needs a higher dose of morphine” He states.
Maru is so engrossed in her pain that she probably won’t hear you whisper back. “I know that. But I need a prescription, or else if there’s a problem, I’ll be at fault and disbarred!”
You can’t risk losing the job that means so much to you, especially not because of the advice of someone you’re still not 100% sure isn’t a production of your imagination.
Hitoshi frowns, he doesn’t look convinced. “Don’t you have defined procedures for these kind of situations?”
“We should, but the protocol is still on the director’s desk for validation” You mutter through clenched teeth, trying to soothe Maru with a cold cloth. She’s delirious from the pain, eyes closed, firsts clenched by her sides.
Hitoshi clicks his tongue, obviously annoyed by the reality of your everyday practice. It’s probably very far away from the idea he had of the job, he who died still an idealist student.
“We can’t let her suffer like this”
Of course you agree with him, but you really don’t know what to do. You’re conflicted, because helping Maru without a doctor’s supervision is at high risk of you getting in trouble.
You’re still standing helpless by the hospital bed when Hitoshi moves closer to Maru. Still sitting on her bed, he places a hand over hers. Maru doesn’t react to his ghost touch, yet Hitoshi doesn’t retract his hand. He exhales slowly through his nose and starts soothingly rubbing his thumb over Maru’s wrist.
“Maru you have to hold on until the doctor arrives. I’ll try to help you, so focus on my voice”
You watch Hitoshi, puzzled. No-one can supposedly hear or see him beside you. Yet Maru stops thrashing around, her face is still contorted with pain, but she endures it and stops moving around. Her eyes are still closed, and beads of sweat roll down her temples.
“That’s it, listen to me. Follow my instructions” Hitoshi’s voice is steady, calm and low. “Good. Now imagine for me that you stand in a field full of flowers” The words roll off his tongue like the tide laps at the sand on the seaside. “The flowers are all around you, you watch their many colours. Imagine their colours”
He marks small pauses between each sentence, to let his words sink in and to give Maru time to produce the images in her head so her attention can be diverted from the pain. It’s a technique you’ve heart of, some sort of hypnoses that is sometimes used in operating rooms too.
Maru’s clenched first relax a little as Hitoshi continues to talk to her.
“You feel the grass under your feet. You can touch the soft petals of the flower around you. Feel their velvety texture. Maybe you pluck one from the ground”
You’re mesmerized by the miracle unfolding before your eyes. She can’t hear him; yet it’s working. Even if she’s doesn’t really hear him, he has an influence on her. It’s supernatural, the scene you are witnessing, and if not for the soothing effect of Hitoshi’s pleasant voice, you would feel a bit panicked.
“You smell the fragrance of fresh grass, and the scent of your favourite flowers. You feel calm in this field.” Listening to Hitoshi’s voice makes your hammering heart calm down in your chest. You feel like you could just listen to him talk for the whole night, until you’d fall asleep, maybe next to him, his voice impossibly close to you hear, his breath in your neck.
Your cheeks heat up, ashamed. You can’t think like that while at work, while he’s only trying to help a patient who’s suffering. But you can’t help it. His voice fills your head, makes it go blank, and you can’t focus on anything else.
Maru’s features have relaxed, the winkles of pain erased from her forehead.
“You feel at peace” Hitoshi stops after that last sentence, and you want to chase after his words. Their so pleasant; you wish he would keep talking.
Gradually, you start hearing the noises of the monitors again, forgetting Hitoshi’s voice, you also can hear the soft snoring of your patient. You let out a deep relieved breath.
Your eyes meet Hitoshi’s tired purple ones and he gives you a small secretive smile before he leaves Maru’s side.
When you exit Maru’s room, the on call doctor finally calls you back. He apologizes for not answering you calls. He was indeed busy with a code blue. He tells you he’ll be there soon to prescribe a higher dose of morphine.
Once you hang up, you turn to Hitoshi, who’s watching his patient through the glass window of her room.
“Thank you” You whisper only for him to hear.
His hand grips the back of his neck, bashful. “It wasn’t much and I wasn’t sure it would work. I’m glad it did. I’m glad I could help”
There’s sadness in his eyes, in his voice. He would have made a great doctor you’re sure. A kind and dedicated doctor.
Hitoshi steps back when the real doctor arrives.
“You could have given her more morphine” He sighs grumpily once he’s done prescribing the new treatment.
“I’m sorry but I couldn’t, the protocol isn’t validated and isn’t in my possession. I could have gotten the dosage wrong and done more good than harm “You reply.
“You nurses have it easy, you take no responsibility” He groans and anger starts rising from the pit of your stomach.
How dare he talk to you like this? Can’t he imagine how hard it was to watch her suffer? To be so powerless? You were supposed to be a team, not denigrate each other’s work.
Before you can give him a piece of your mind, Hitoshi appears beside him.
“She did her best, and she’s here everyday despite the arduousness of her work, despite being under staffed, despite the low pay.” You watch Hitoshi talk near the doctor’s hear, puzzled, but touched by his words. You wish the doctor could hear him. “You should apologize” He then says. “You work as a team. Tell her she did good”
The doctor seems to freeze in place for a second, and you’re flabbergasted when he opens his mouth to tell apologize. You watch him tell you you did good, and thank you for being here, with wide incredulous eyes. He then excuses himself and leaves.
You’re still in shock from what happened. He said exactly what Hitoshi told him to say. It’s just impossible. Does he have some sort of supernatural powers? No, it must be a coincidence. You try to convince yourself it was one while you prepare the new painkiller infusion. Maru stays asleep, her features smooth, painless.
When you exit her room again, Hitoshi approaches you.
“You should take a small break. And eat something. One cereal bar isn’t enough a diner.”
So he was watching you this whole time, even if you didn’t see him. You scoff at how he’s babying you, but still head to the break-room, after wondering if you obey him from your free will or not. It’s stupid to think he has some kind of influence over you, over the living, yet you can’t prevent your thoughts from musing over it.
You pour yourself some coffee, to help you stay awake until morning. Hitoshi sits across from you at the small round table in the center of the room, and you almost offer him a drink. For one second you forgot what he was.
It feels too real to have him here. Especially when he could have been here. Could have been the doctor on call during your shift. Could have taken a break with you if the night was slow. You would have chatted about anything and everything like you do now.
For once during a night shift, you don’t feel lonely.
“Can I come back with you tomorrow? I…. I’d like to see her get better” He asks, almost pleads, and you nod your head. The smile you give him is the empathic one you give patients, you know it but you can’t help it. You feel sad that he isn’t there for real. You wish he could be. For him, but also for you. You’re not that selfless in the end.
“Sure. Work is easier when you’re around” You confess, trying to hide the tremble in your voice.
Maybe that’s why he’s still here; why he still exists, why he’s not completely gone. To help. Tonight, Maru wasn’t the only one he helped.
#shinsou x reader#shinsou x y/n#shinsou fanfic#shinsou x you#hitoshi shinsou#bnha x reader#mha x y/n#mha x you#mha reader insert#shinsou headcanons#bhna reader insert#bnha shinso hitoshi#mha hitoshi#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfiction
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Hitoshi Shinsou MasterList
Requests
Long fics
Drabbles
Head-canons
#mha#bnha#myheroacademia#bokunohero academia#Mha x Reader#Mha fanfic#Hitoshi Shinsou#shinsou hitoshi#Shinsou#Shinsou x Reader#Shinsou fanfic#shinsou x y/n#shinsou x female reader
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Shinsou's accadent
Class 1A was doing training. They each would fight a teacher, solo.
Shinso was going against Izawa. He had drank 3 bottles of water in agony as he was worried about fighting his adopted father and favorite teacher and pro hero. He had to pee but was instructed to stay in the line and listen to 13 and All Might. But he couldn't focus. He had held his pee all morning and he hoped he would get to a restroom first. His fight was the third fight so he had to wait. As his turn came up, he was BURSTING at the seams, he just wanted to get this over with so he could go pee. “Shit…” Shinso whispered to himself as he leaked a little bit. “God damnit…” He stopped. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold it. “All Might Sensi?” Shinso asked, he was trying to bring courage to ask.
“Yes young man?” All Might asked.
“I.. u-um c-can i.. C-can i-i…” He couldn't get it out. He was worried about being annoying. “Nevermind it’s not important…” He said, even though it was important. VERY important.
“Ready?” Izawa asked, not noticing the young boy's issue.
“O-of course!” He replied. But all he was really ready to do was find a toilet.
As they fought, it began getting harder and harder for Shinso to hold it in. “You're getting distracted.” Izawa said, knowing shinso doesn't normally space out.
“I’m fine.” Shinso said, clenching his teeth.
A few minutes later, Izawa punched Shinso in the stomach.
“O-oh n-no…oh no no no no no no no!” Shinso whispered, he felt a spurt get out. He stopped just in time.
It took Izawa a minute to notice the horrified look on Shinso’s face. “Hey, losing isn’t that big of a deal. You'll live.”
“I-it isn't that…. I-I”
“What? Are you ok?” He asked, worried.
“Oh god! O-OH GOD! NO! NO NO NO NO NO!!!”
He was peeing. He couldn't believe it. He was frozen. He started tearing up.
“Are you ok?” Izawa was getting worried.
“D-dad-” Shinso whispered.
“What is it Hitoshi?” Izawa asked, worried for his son.
“I-I…” He couldn't get it out. He was too embarrassed. Then, to way on to the embarrassment, he started sobbing. “I- *sob* a-and then- *sob* I didn’t mean to- *sob* I-I’M SO S-SORRY! REALY!!”
“Hitoshi what are you talking abou-” He stopped, noticing the wet patch growing on Shinso’s pants. “OH! OH MY GOD! I-I DIDN’T REALIZE!!”
“*sob* *sob* *GASP* c-can I just g-go home! Please…”
Shinso asked, burying his face into his hands. He was still peeing and now it was dripping onto the floor.
“Hey, it’s okay! Why are you so worked up about this?”
“BECAUSE I JUST PISSED MYSELF IN FRONT… IN Front.. well, in front of you!” He said straightening up. “C-can i just go home now…” He asked, dripping with his own urine.
“Y-yes of course..” Izawa said, feeling bad. He couldn't help but feel it was his fault with Hitoshi.
(TIME SKIP)
“H-hitoshi?” Mic asked, opening Shinso’s bedroom door.
“Hi papa.” Shinso said, sitting up.
“I heard what happened at the USJ after your fight with Shota. Want to talk about it?” He asked, sitting on Shinso’s bed.
“Well, I was worried about fighting dad.. And so I was drinking a lot of water. I had to pee, but…” He said, leaning on Mic.
“But?” Mic asked.
“I-I was too shy to ask because I didn't want to seem annoying. I couldn't hold it and… right in front of dad, I peed.”
“Hey, I'm home.” Izawa said, walking into Shinso’s room.
“Hi dad. Papa and I were talking about what happened today.”
“At the USJ?” Izawa asked.
“Yea. When I… y’know.. Peed.”
“*sigh* Mic can I talk to him alone please.”
“Of course.” Mic said walking out of the room.
“Hitoshi, you know I'm not upset, you wet yourself. Right?” Izawa said, sitting next to Shinso.
“Y-your not?”
“NO! You pissed yourself, so what? Not like you did it on purpose.”
“I’m not a baby. I should have been able to hold it. Then I wet myself in front of YOU!”
“Listen, you had to pee. At least it was only in front of me. You're not the first kid to piss his pants in front of me. *kiss* Go to sleep Hitoshi, you’ve had a rough day.”
#dadzawa#shinsou fanfic#omarashi#mha#anime#shinsou hitoshi#shinso hitoshi#aizawa shouta#MHA omarashi
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Someone Better?
Hitoshi Shinsou x fem reader
"There's someone else I like."
Those words kept playing back in his head over and over again. Kirishima had asked you out earlier, you didn't tell him, but he found through Kaminari. Why the hell did you reject him? Kirishima? That man has everything the looks, the strength, the personality, you two would look so good and perfect together it pissed Shinsou off.
He was walking you home like usual but he couldn't stop thinking about what Kaminari had told him. He was looking down at the ground when he spoke up "Hey, so I found out that Kirishima asked you out." he says and then turned to look at you.
You're taken aback a bit by him, how did he know? Kaminari was there when Kiri shot his shot so he probably told Shinsou you figured. You relaxed a bit and giggled. "Oh yeah he did" you replied a bit shy after remembering that moment.
He fucking caught that. The little blush growing on your face, probably at the thought of Kirishima. Oh no. Did that mean...no. He mustered up the courage and asked "So, how'd it go? Did you say yes?"
You laughed softly. "Oh no. I rejected him."
"No? Wait why?" he asked. He was relieved of course but at the same time a bit shocked. A lot of people would love to be with someone like Kirishima.
You turned away and looked at the ground "There's someone else I like." you smile softly and continue "Someone I really like and I want to be with him."
Its quiet for a bit, you turned to look back at him. Shinsou was already looking into your eyes. He gave you a small smile, you returned his smile and he tells you "I'm happy for you Y/N".
Shinsou grunts as he finishes his last set on the bench press. With one last grunt he pushes the barbell up and he's done. He sits up all sweaty and panting. Damn his workout was so good, letting out his jealousy. He smiles to himself "Fuck Y/N. You know how to get me fired up."
He gets up and heads for a shower. He let's the water run in his hair.
"I'm happy for you Y/N."
He runs his finger through his damp hair. No the hell he's not. The thought of you being with someone else makes his chest ache. He wants you to be happy yes but...not with someone else. He wishes you could be happy with him.
That night he layed in bed looking up at the ceiling.
"There's someone else I like. Someone I really like and I want to be with him."
Him. If not Kirishima who? Who the he'll could that guy be? Is he better than Kirishima? He grabs grips of his hair in frustration. There's someone better. Shinsou has always been insecure about his looks, he knows he's not a lady's man, his quirk, with everyone having told him its makes for a good villain not a hero, his strength, he wasn't automatically placed in Class 1-A or 1-B and everything in general. You mean to say that's there's someone who can top all that better than Kirishima? Needless to say, Shinsou fell asleep after a few tears of jealousy and insecurity.
The next day after-school you and him were at the nature park. School has been a bit heavy on yall so you decided some time outside would be relaxing. Shinsou was following behind you, smiling like an idiot watching your cute self lead him to a 'pretty place'. You turn around "You like cute things right, Shinsou?" you ask him.
Yeah. You, Shinsou said in his mind. "Well, I don't mind them." He said chuckling at your question.
A bit more walking later and you both arrived at a flower field. "Tada! Here we are!" you announced excitedly. It was beautiful, the endless sea of flowers. Shinsou stared out into it "Wow. This is pretty Y/N." he said and turned to you smiling. You returned his smile and for a moment it was just you and him, in front of the giant flower field. His purple eyes looking back at your (e/c) eyes, they're so pretty. Everything about you is beautiful, your eyes, your smile, your aura, even your interests were beautiful. Like the flower field you brought him to.
Shinsou blushes and turns away abruptly his eyes landing on a tree. Shinsou smiles, "Hey let's climb that tree. We'd get a better view of the flowers from up there." he says hoping you'd want to.
You bright up "Yes lets! But make sure to catch me in case I fall." you order playfully.
Shinsou chuckles "I'll be right your side don't worry." he reassures you. Smiling softly as you head towards the tree.
You go to climb the tree being careful to not slip. Shinsou was below also making sure you were careful. When you were seated on a branch he starts climbing the tree and sits right next you. The both of you smile looking out into the landscape. "This is nice. Right Shinsou?" you say not looking away from the sunset setting behind the flowers.
Shinsou responds softly "Yeah. I could do this with you over and over again." You blush at his words, you could do this over and over with him too. He was looking at you and he saw you blushing. He did that?
Shinsou takes a deep breath making you turn to him. "Y/N" he says firmly and goes to hold both your hands. You're shocked by his actions but don't pull away. He begins to speak again "You're the only person that has made me feel things no one else has ever made me feel. You make me feel like I'm this strong, well-respected and remarkable man...but... you also make me feel like I'm this weak, undeserving, invalid man. You drive me nuts." What is he saying? You make him feel sad? "This must be what falling in love feels like. Because regardless of the insecurities you bring me back to, I still want to be with you, and I want to only be with you. I want to go far and beyond to work on myself so I can be the best man for you. Y/N..." he brings your right hand closer to his face and places your knuckles on his lips "I love you." he says gently and leaves his lips on your knuckles closing his eyes.
You're shocked "Shinsou." you say softly. He opens his eyes looking right at your beautiful ones. He pulls your hand away "I know there's someone else. Someone else better than me for you, and I have no right to get in between you two but...If you give a chance, I promise to go to the depths of the earth for you. I promise you won't regret it." he says emotionally.
You hold his cheek smiling softly at him and go in for a kiss. Shinsou is taken aback but doesn't pull away. He kisses you back your lips taste so sweet and unconsciously he wraps his arms around your waist.
After a moment you pull away and smile at him. "Shinsou, you're the one I want to be with. I love you too." you say making him forget the insecurities he had earlier, making the happiest man on earth.
"Thank you, Y/N" he replies going in for another to which you happily return.
#shinsou x reader#shinsou x y/n#shinsou x you#mha x reader#bnha x you#bnha x reader#hitoshi shinsou#mha shinsou#boku no hero academia#bnha#shinsou hitoshi#hitoshi shinso x reader#hitoshi shinso x y/n#bnha shinso hitoshi#bnha shinsou#my hero fanfic#my hero academy fanfiction
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★。／ falling in love with you ＼。★
ask: this was a request! but I can't find the ask on my old blog, but I do know that it was a quirkless!assistant!reader with midoriya, todoroki, bakugo, shinso, monoma, and kendo. I did cut off monoma and kendo since I feel like I don't know enough about their characters, if that's ok!
pairing: midoriya x gn! reader, todoroki x gn! reader, bakugo x gn! reader, shinso x gn! reader (separate)
fandom: boku no hero academia
word count: 3,722
tw: none, wholesome fluff with some swearing on bakugo's section
notes: this had taken a really long time on my original blog, so im happy to finally be able to share it, if you're from my OG blog, and you were waiting, im sorry it took so long! and since I can't get back into my old blog anymore (I lost the password), please resubmit your asks at anytime and ill try to get to them asap!
! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !
~the meeting~
You’re first introduced to Class 1A/1B as a stand-in for a sparring partner in hand-to-hand combat. It was better - in Aizawa’s opinion - for you to brush up on your skills while also putting his students in a more hands-on approach to learning. You stand before the class, ready.
You challenge whoever is confident with their skills so far to come forward and fight you. Over your shoulder, Aizawa stands huddled in his sleeping bag. He isn’t too worried, he trusts your abilities to handle his class, and besides, you needed to grow to tolerate them quickly.
None of the students wanted to fight you at first.
There was at least one of their close friends that teased them because they had noticed you staring at them out of all the other blue-clad students. So, of course, to avoid further embarrassment, they step forward to be the first example.
The rules are simple. No quirks. Just simple hand-to-hand. The first to pin the opponent for at least half a minute is the winner of the exercise.
I. midoriya
~ after the meet ~
Izuku really didn’t want to fight you
He didn’t know your strengths, your weaknesses, your quirk, your skill set, how powerful it was versus what it looked like, etc. (cue the nerdy rambling). He had no notes on you!
Izuku had seen you in class every once in a while when he wasn’t busy. You sat by the teacher’s desk grading papers and sometimes assisting Aizawa by running errands or taking over while he took a nap on the floor. But based on your stature and appearance and the fact you were wearing a school uniform, you seemed to be a student as well.
That leads to plenty of interesting theories about you!
“I think they’re a villain!” Kaminari said light-heartedly. It sounded like a rather malicious thing to suggest, Izuku thought, despite his wider grin. “In like… a rehab program or something.”
“Why would they send a villain to a school for a rehab program though?” Iida pulls his drink from his mouth. “It’d be much more likely they be put on community service or in more safe environments.”
Izuku looks across at you.
You’re sitting away from the teachers at the moment, trading notes with a girl in class 2C, laughing as you both scribble away and discuss some class that he can’t quite hear. You wave her off before moving down the table to another group who are slurping ramen over a table full of messy textbooks and broken pens. Izuku knew these kids to cause enough trouble for everyone, but they push aside their bowls and utensils and kick off their bags so they can let you sit with them.
Hm.
Have you always looked so pretty from this far away?
~ falling in love with you ~
My boy falls hard and fast… save him…
Izuku always pays attention during a class, but he always tries to pay a little more attention when it’s you that’s teaching <3
After assisting Aizawa for a few weeks into the term, Momo asked who you were. In all the “excitement” of having to shephard a class of hormonal superheroes around, you had forgotten to introduce yourself!
He pulls out his hero notebook and begins taking detailed notes on you
[Y/N L/N], your power stats and small doodles of you in the bottom corner. Some more detailed, some awfully sketchy, but he never feels he got it quite right
Aizawa pats your head and dismisses you from your teaching duty for the day
For the rest of the class you resign yourself to your desk and join the students in learning the next emergency protocol
He thinks you might be looking away when he glances at you
Are you looking at him too?
You’ve ruined him, he’d swear on it. He can’t help it, just by looking at you. The swell of your hips when he can see you walking in front or behind him, the way your eyes light up if he even gains the confidence to talk about his hero notebooks with you, the little shocks he gets when your knees touch on the floor of his dorm room. Or maybe he finds you distracting in some way? Your voice drags him from each lecture, even if it’s not aimed at him. Your smile lures him in. He’s sure you have to have a quirk somehow, hidden there that you haven’t told him about yet.
Do you find him as distracting as he finds you?
Among his many nervous habits, a new one is born. What is it? Well, drawing you in his notebook.
It’s during one of these very creepy-sounding moments that he remembers he never actually asked you what your quirk was. Nor had he seen it in action before
Other people had wondered about it before, but no one had an answer
So he asks you
You laugh.
It’s almost shocked, but partly sad. You tell him, quite simply, that you’re quirkless. And that Aizawa gave you the position in 1A because you were willing to become a teaching assistant on the side. Though you suspect it’s favouritism, he wants you to have a good education, UA is a nice place, he’ll be close by in case any shit goes down.
If anything Izuku falls even more in love with you. Hearing you ramble with him about your favourite heroes, how you want to be your own hero even if you can’t do the same things as they can, and you’re still here talking to him.
You’re one of the first people he tells about All Might passing on his quirk to him. He’s worried you might be envious of it, or hate him for lying his way into UA, but you beam at him and assure him he’ll be the best Number One Hero you’ve ever seen.
Yeah, he’s definitely fallen a bit harder, if the sweaty palms and nervous heart skip is enough to go off of.
~ fighting for your attention ~
Now imagine this poor, sweet, innocent broccoli-head of a boy finally falling in love with you! He’s smitten with you
But now he’s watching you interact with his classmates interact with you a little more closely
He doesn’t mind of course, he knows everyone loves your personality and just the feeling you give off. It makes them feel warm and safe and you being quirkless limits any sense of a threat to those who are more sceptical
What he doesn’t like is that he knows some of them fancy you
Some of them love you
He begins studying harder, training harder, works out more so he can make sure he can hear your sweet praises and warming smiles
Any “good job!” and “i’m so proud!” you can offer him is cherished. He cherishes you
So he gathers his courage to try harder just for you, so you can think of him as your number one hero!
Now the only question is; do you cherish him?
K. bakugo
~ after the meet ~
An unbridled opportunity to inflict pain on an (admittedly) attractive stranger?
Fuck yeah
Quirk or no quirk, he was going to absolutely destroy you. He was sure of it!
Shitty hair said you looked oddly familiar, but who cares?
Katsuki had seen you around in the dormitory building, of course, he never paid you much attention. You were wearing a uniform, so he guessed you were a student. He thought you were boring.
Pretty, but boring.
Not that he was looking, shut up–
Maybe if he kicks your ass a bit he’ll stop getting so distracted
Or…:
Are you fucking kidding?
You kicked his ass! Barely breaking a sweat!
One minute he’s preparing to just kick you in the gut and land a right hook to your face, but then he steps into the field where white lines have been drawn and you smile at him. You wish him good luck and bow before getting into a fighting stance.
He draws a blank after that. Sure, he lands the first kick, but gets your thigh instead so you skid across the pitch. Then you effortlessly sidestep his next swing and he just wants to blast your face off in embarrassment.
Then, most painful of all, you punch him right in the gut and kick him until he’s down.
He’s butt-hurt, as expected and refuses to even look at you.
Shitty hair slaps his shoulder and laughs as he joins the rest of the class. You brush dust off your uniform and prepare to fight Mina next.
“That was something huh?” Kaminari jests, snickering. “I should’ve gotten that on camera.”
Katsuki decides just then that he’s going to make your life hell for what you’ve done.
~ falling in love with you ~
He’s not falling in love with you, shut up-
Ok so he’s a grouchy boy anyway right so of course he’s not going to admit it as quick as the others
In fact he makes it a goal in life to annoy you enough until you hate his guts, then he might feel better about wanting to grind your face into the pavement
He kicks your chair out when you go to sit so you slam into the floor, shut the door to the classroom in your face, shoves you in hallways at every chance he gets, and even becomes so petty he begins stealing your favourite snacks and drinks out of the fridge and cupboards
Smug bastard even devours them in front of you just so you know that it was him
He hates them but that doesn’t stop him!
And - as much as he doesn’t want to admit it - he kinda hates the small flicker of disappointment that flutters behind your eyes before you offer to go on a snack-run for everyone on your way
Dammit!
He makes it sound like your idea that he stalks alongside you to the grocery store.
“You’d probably get lost if someone wasn’t around to hold your hand,” he’d mock you. If you inquire if he’d hold your hand around the store, he’ll definitely leave you behind. Don’t tempt him. And if you laugh he’ll walk back to the dorms and leave your ass to wonder where he went, searching through aisles for him. He knows you would.
Begrudgingly, he knows somewhere in him won’t let him abandon you there. What part? No idea but he hates it.
Which is why he is now escorting you on the seventh snack-run of the month. You push the trolley around because even with all your begging he won’t do it. Shopping list in hand you throw in bags of snacks and surprise treats for your classmates.
You have everything stacked up now. Popcorn for movie nights, and each person’s specific sweets, but instead of heading towards the cashiers, you’re turning towards the scoop-and-weigh section.
“Oi, dumbass!” Bakugo doesn’t follow after you at first, and he doesn’t care that people are turning to stare at him. “Cash register is that way!”
“I know that.” You smile and disappear behind the aisle. He really has no choice but to drag his feet to follow. When he comes around the side you’re scooping a bag full of honey-roasted almonds - ones he knows you hate but his mouth waters at.
“What are you getting those for?” He curses how soft his voice is now, but he can’t help but wonder why you’re buying them now.
“They’re your favourite, right?” You respond.
“Yeah?” How did you even know that?
You must be reading his mind with some hidden quirk or something, because you quickly explain that you had questioned Kirishima about the hidden stash in the cupboards one time and he had told you almost immediately. So, why not grab some more when you noticed that his stash was getting low?
Without letting him answer you walk past him to the checkouts. He watches after you, mouth dry. He can’t even think of an insult for you right now.
Fuck!
~ fighting for your attention ~
He still won’t admit it to himself so don’t expect a massive, dramatic confession from him (…yet)
No, he’s willing to fight anyone and everyone who wants your affections from the sidelines
Someone looks at you a little too long? (Punch them)
Someone touches your shoulder during a PE class? (Make their life hell)
Deku asks for your help on an essay and you respond with an all-sweet smile that just rubs him the wrong way? (Kill him - but not actually)
Jealousy is a dangerous game for Katsuki
(He’s not jealous don’t even ask—)
He’s willing to completely flip the tables so that maybe you’d notice that something’s different: he doesn’t kick your chair out anymore, or eat your snacks, or try to fight you in the hallways
Instead he does all of that for pretty much everyone else—with exceptions for Kirishima of course
Anything so he can deny that he’s gone the slightest bit soft for you when you both sit in the common room and eat your respective snacks, talking about some annoying classmate that had pissed him off for the fourth time that day
And god dammit, won’t you just notice that he appreciates you?
S. todoroki
~ after the meet ~
Now, my first question is, is it vague curiosity or a drive to urge his strength forward that makes Shoto fight you?
It’s the strength training, he reasons
He doesn’t need it of course, he’s capable enough, but that doesn’t stop him from arguing with himself that that could be the only reason
And no, it’s definitely not because he can see you giving him a curious look over the heads of his classmates, and certainly, not because Kaminari gives him a knowing grin because even he can see you staring at him
So he puts himself forward as a volunteer
For the training… sure
Even after you lose to Todoroki he’s courteous about it. You both bow out of respect and he rejoins the line. After that he doesn’t expect to see you very much after that, perhaps never again. He thinks, despite the theories, you might be a student-teacher from a different academy.
But no, the next week you show up to their regular classes. And not long after that, you’re both working on group and pair projects together.
Like today, it’s theory. Emergency Evacuation in a Disaster. You pick some form of ‘emergency’ and then plot out an essay with detailed instructions for evacuation for the project. Simple. You pick a disaster and begin the essay.
You ask him questions in between, just general small talk, asking how his day is and the like. But he appreciates it. He knows that you know who he is and yet you just ask him normal questions. (Let’s say this is before his arc to make friends.)
You praise him for his strength in your battle and it makes his heart pound. Is he sick? What does this mean?
What do you mean when you say you like his company? How does he get you to stop? He doesn’t like not being in control of how his heart is beating.
~ falling in love with you ~
I don’t think that originally it would be obvious to you that he fancies you
He’d be courteous at first, hold the door for you, compliment things about you, pull out your chair or save you a seat at lunch, it’s simple little things
You don’t notice of course, you just think he’s being nice
But to literally everyone else, it’s so obvious to them that he’s already completely smitten with you. He barely talks to anyone else… and yeah he doesn’t talk much with you either but he tolerates your company more than others
And he’s a gentleman so why would he outright say anything?
(That’s the reason and not that he’s afraid to, yeah totally-)
So instead he sits and listens to your conversations
It’s not your fault he’s having a bad day, but at the moment he’s giving the cold shoulder to everyone in 1-A.
That doesn’t stop you from dragging your chair up to his small desk during your break and eating there with him. He doesn’t tell you to leave, because he doesn’t think he can. He just watches you pull out utensils and begin to eat. He hasn’t even bothered with his own food, he can feel a pit swallowing his stomach, like he couldn’t cram anything in there if he wanted to.
“Bad day?” you ask, like you couldn’t already tell. “Don’t wanna talk about it?”
He nods at you. He can’t lie. And he sure as hell can’t ignore you.
“I understand,” you give a thoughtful hum, eating a bite of your food. “My day was pretty crappy too. It gets like that sometimes, you just gotta keep going. You can’t stop living just because your head’s a bit heavy.”
He didn’t ask for your advice, and maybe before that would’ve bothered him that you didn’t stop talking, but now he can’t find it in him to be frustrated. His annoyance deflates at your presence. You radiate this homely comfort he hasn’t felt in a long time.
Shoto goes through the effort of pulling out his food, just so you might feel better about it.
He forces out the words;
“And your day? Tell me about it… please.”
~ fighting for your attention ~
Now shoto is less likely to actually try and confront others about their shared affections
In fact in normally takes him a good while to officially realise that he loves you
But pretty soon he just begins to seek you out more
As he grows more social, earns new friends and becomes accustomed to everyone, you work with him closely to help him learn social cues and overcome his trauma
He comes to like touching you, whether it be a hand on his head, touching knees in the dorms, a simple hug, or you leaning on him until you fall asleep on him during the winter. He feels comfortable with you
But with this realisation comes one more;
He wonders if he could handle going back to living without you
H. shinso
~ after the meet ~
Now, shinso’s quirk is pretty hard to implement in a fight, which is why he mainly prefers hand-to-hand
Overall, he feels tired, if not a little bored, by the spar with you
He hadn’t noticed you at all before this lesson in 1C, but his teacher had said that you were helping by moving down from 1A
Why, he couldnt figure out
But nonetheless, he finds you watching him while waiting to spar you in your first physical education class together, so he volunteers
And he quickly gets disqualified–
He swears he doesn’t mean to, but almost as soon as he begins the fight, you overwhelm him.
What you lack in a visible quirk, you make up for in speed, kicking and jabbing and ducking away before he can get a hit in. It’s when he finds you hovering over his shoulder, about to throw a punch to his face, that he panics and asks for your name.
A bit confused, slowing down a little bit, you give it to him, and almost as quickly, you’re under his control. The teacher immediately barks at him to release his control, and he obliges, but he’s still disqualified and you’re given an instant win. When you stumble, regaining your own self-control, you look up at him in bemusement.
But you don’t look scared at all, instead you smile at him.
“Brainwashing? That’s a pretty cool quirk, huh?”
You confuse him, and he’s not sure if he likes it yet.
~ falling in love with you ~
After you move down to 1C to work on your General Hero courses, you begin to grow closer with Shinso
You don’t think that his quirk is any different to the others at UA, which he is somewhat confused by
‘Some of these guys can set people on fire! Brainwashing doesn’t sound too different to the others you see here’, was your only explanation whenever he asked about it
Overtime, you become one of his only friends in 1C, he tolerates you
He spends most of his time with you, studying, eating, talking, he helps you write papers on general hero practices, telling you about his history with children being scared of his ‘villain quirk’
All things considered, he trusts you, and i dont think he could say that for many other people at UA
You both sit cross-legged on the floor of his dorm room. He very rarely decorates it, but you begged him to let you set up the fairy lights and little cat decals that were meant for his wall. Begrudgingly, he agreed.
So that’s what you’ve been doing, arranging kitties on the wall over his desk. Cute little art pieces that resemble grey and calico cats.
Meanwhile, he’s studying on his floor, laying back and occasionally sneaking glances at you to see if you’re tangled in the lights. Soon enough you have them strung up nicely in the corners of his dorm-room, sending soft gold light over his purple hair. He doesn’t move until you lay on the floor beside him, looking up at the ceiling.
“What do you think?” you ask, leaning up on your elbows to admire your handiwork.
He’s quiet for a moment, just looking at you, taking in the view of your side-profile.
“They look nice.”
Shinso isn’t talking about the lights.
~ fighting for your attention ~
Listen, usually Shinso absolutely hates using his quirk for anything out of villain fights, because if he does he feels like he reinforces the idea that he might be a villain too
But, when it comes to you?
He’s relatively tame at first, he doesnt get too jealous or overprotective as someone else might (cough, bakugo, cough), but it doesnt mean that he doesnt need reassurance sometimes
If it gets to the point that another one of your suitors is making you uncomfortable, then by all means, hes asking them what theyre doing and forcing them to walk away
And afterwards, having that little moment of supposed villainy feels worth it
Just keep smiling at him
im sorry this took so long!
I hope you guys enjoyed
#bnha#mha#bnha x reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#mha x reader#midoriya#izuku#iida#uraraka#tenya#ochako#kirishima#denki#kaminari#hero#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#detroit smash#writing#fanfic#fanfiction#x reader#gender neutral reader#wholesome#bnha fluff#hitoshi shinsou#shinsou x reader#shinso x reader#izuku midoriya
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Unknown Pleasures Ch.1
You’ve had a crush on Katsuki Bakugo since joining UA, but will another student change your mind?
Warnings: Minor angst
1.2k words
Chapter links
The hum of the engine filled the car as the song stopped and Denki continued driving down the road. The last few weekends had consisted of Denki riling up whoever he could to come out on an adventure in his new car.
You sat in the middle back seat between Hanta and Katsuki, leaning your head against the headrest you let out a heavy sigh. A wave of relief washed over you finally being able to take your mind off responsibilities for a moment.
These random weekend adventures always lifted a weight off your shoulders and allowed you to enjoy your youth.
In the front seat, Hitoshi shifted uncomfortably. Hitoshi was a new addition to your usual cast of shenanigans. Denki had quickly befriended him much to the dismay of Katsuki who detested anyone new.
"What's Kirishima doing tonight?" Hanta asked curiously. Denki fiddled with his phone at a red light attempting to change the song.
"Oh, he is busy with Ashido~," Denki said in a sing-song voice.
"Tch- that's why you picked up this mind freak?" Katsuki huffed, making his disdain for a new face heard.
"Hey play nice blasty!" Denki called back to him.
Katsuki grunted and you giggled pinching his cheek, "Come on don't be rude," You teased.
"Cut it out!" Katsuki yelled smacking your hand away.
The light turned green, and Denki shoved his phone into Hitoshi's hand. "Why don't you be DJ man?" Denki suggested as he focused back on driving.
"You want me to choose a song?" Hitoshi clarified.
"Yeah, go ahead! I want to hear what you usually listen to!" Denki said encouragingly.
Hitoshi fiddled with Denki's phone until selecting the song Atmosphere by Joy Division.
"Oh! I love this song!" You exclaimed and began to sing.
Hitoshi's eyes wandered to the rearview mirror where he caught the reflection of you singing. The calm smile that painted your face as you sang the words perfectly caused his stomach to flutter.
However, the euphoria your playfulness gave him came crashing down when he noticed how your eyes wandered to Katsuki. Your eyes danced as they admired his face as if you were waiting for Katsuki to acknowledge you.
But what if you knew he looked at you the way you longed for Katsuki too?
His stomach only soured the more he observed the interaction. Katsuki's gaze stayed out the window completely indifferent to the softness of your expressions and the longingness in your eyes.
As if your soft features and carefree personality weren't enough to do him in, your voice was intoxicating as well. Hitoshi was sure he could spend a whole day listening to you sing his favorite songs.
Denki's voice infiltrated Hitoshi's daydream shattering his lovely image of you singing just for him.
"Alright, we're here!" Denki announced.
"About fucking time- had enough of being in this stupid car," Katsuki exclaimed and threw open the door exiting eagerly.
Hitoshi's eyes followed your figure as you quickly jumped out after Katsuki. The way the moonlight hit your skin as soon as you stepped out and your features bounced as you happily sprang in excitement forced him to suck in air to ground himself.
"You ready man?" Denki asked, noticing Hitoshi's slowness.
"Yeah," Hitoshi answered, forcing himself to blink away his desires and exit the car.
You five began to walk up a hiking trail. Denki had claimed the view had to be amazing at night, and hiking was one of the only things he could get Katsuki to agree to come to.
Hitoshi was new to the group and hung back observing the four of your interactions. It didn't take long for him to notice your gaze never left Katsuki. He was always in your line of vision and most of all he was the main person you responded to in the conversation. The other two boys might as well not have been there at all in your eyes.
Eventually, the conversation pushed you out as the three boys got into a heated discussion regarding something pointless.
Hitoshi quickened his pace, taking this opportunity to speak more with you.
"Hey," He called out to get your attention.
"Hey general studies~," You teased.
Hitoshi would have corrected you that he was enrolling in the hero course now, but your teasing caught him off guard and it took all his concentration not to be flustered by your comment.
"How are you enjoying the hike so far?" You asked.
"It's fine-," He shrugged his shoulders." So- what usually happens on these night outs?" he asked.
"Hmm- well usually we try to get in as much trouble as we can before Bakugo yells at us to go back," You giggled.
Hitoshi's nose scrunched up at the sound of how you sang out Katsuki's name. Your crush on him was all too evident.
But why?
What did you see in that belligerent blond?
“Are you excited to be in the hero course now?” you asked, snapping Hitoshi out of his thoughts.
“Yes of course. It’s all I’ve ever wanted… I’m especially excited to get to know everyone more.” He stated.
“Oh, that’s funny~ last I remember you said you weren’t here to make friends.” You teased.
Hitoshi flushed slightly at your comment, “Yes, I did say that- however, I find myself particularly excited to get to know you more. Speaking of that- would you like to go out to eat sometime?” He asked.
His words took the breath out of your lungs and froze your footsteps. Hitoshi stopped and turned to face you, taking in your shocked expression. You had never been asked out so straightforward before- nor did you expect it from your new classmate. And then there was your feelings for-…
Hitoshi spoke, bringing you out of your spiraling thoughts.
“It’s Bakugo, isn’t it?” He asked simply.
His words sent you into even more peril. In the brief time Hitoshi has spent with you he had picked up your crush on Katsuki. Was it that obvious?
“Is he your boyfriend?” Hitoshi asked further.
You stuttered like an idiot not knowing how to form a sentence after being so taken off guard. “He- well no he’s not but- I uh- I don’t-,” you tried to get out anything that would make sense. Thankfully, Hitoshi hated seeing you in such discomfort.
“It’s all right. You don’t have to explain, I think I understand. However… if you’re ever tired of waiting for him to appreciate you like he should- I can assure you I’d do a better job.” He spoke.
Your eyes searched his, completely overwhelmed by his boldness. His expression was genuine, calm, and serious. Hitoshi had every intention of laying out his affinity for you honestly and politely. It was unlike anything you had experienced before- and left you speechless.
“The hell are you two doing back there?” Katsuki spewed looking back at you both. In the fleeting moment you two had stopped to speak, the three boys had made some considerable distance.
Hitoshi let out a disgruntled sigh, the angry chihuahua's temper poked at his nerves. It was past cruel that such a vulgar man would have your affection. However, as Hitoshi averted his gaze from you to Katsuki he saw for the first time a quick shimmer of possessiveness in the blond's eyes.
Did Katsuki have some feelings for you after all? Or was it just his ego that appreciated your attention? Whatever the case, the tension that held between the two students was not going to be the last.
Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee
#Hitoshi is simping hard for us#bnha shinso hitoshi#hitoshi shinsou#hitoshi shinso x reader#hitoshi x reader#mha shinsou#shinso x reader#shinso x y/n#Shinso angst#bnha shinsou#shinsou x reader#mha x y/n#mha x you#mha x reader#mha x gender neutral reader#bnha x self insert#bnha x y/n#bnha x gender neutral reader#bnha x you#bnha x reader#mha angst#bnha angst#bnha fanfiction#mha#my hero x reader#my hero academy fanfiction#my hero fanfic#my hero acedamia
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[06: that time she had free reign]
synopsis - in light of a major controversy that causes his fan support to dwindle significantly, katsuki bakugou is forced to do anything possible to garner back the affection of his fans before the announcement of the year’s hero rankings. katsuki has two options: either "date" japan’s most-adored social media star, in hopes of her amazing reputation bringing up his, or kiss that #1 spot goodbye. it’s a no-brainer what he chooses. and it shouldn’t matter at all, right? it’s a fake relationship. nothing more, nothing less
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feel free to send an ask or comment to be added <3
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FUN FACT: y/n didn’t watch the interview with bakugou, but other than that jab at her, he actually spoke so highly of her and was so sweet about her that entire interview. shame, she’ll never know till after the fact. :P
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thank you, good humans! i hope you enjoyed! <3
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I saw your requests can I request if it’s okay a Kiribaku and or Denkishinso comfort for getting hurt on the job or getting tired from a long day art work?
I literally did both in both scenarios XD. Enjoyed writing it anyway.
I hope you like it as much as I did.
Pure fluff <3
The sun was setting over the city, casting a warm glow over the bustling streets below. The day had been long, filled with challenges and dangers, but you had finally made it back home. The apartment was quiet as you entered, the only sound being the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the city outside.
You dropped your bag by the door and sighed, feeling the weight of the day settling on your shoulders. Your body ached, every muscle protesting against the strain of the mission. You were tired, bone tired, and all you wanted was to sink into the comfort of your bed and forget about the world for a while.
But as you made your way through the apartment, you heard voices coming from the living room. Curiosity piqued, you followed the sound and found Katsuki and Eijiro sitting on the couch, talking quietly. They looked up as you entered, their expressions shifting from concern to relief at the sight of you.
"Hey, you're back," Kirishima said, standing up and approaching you. "Are you okay? You look exhausted."
You managed a weak smile, leaning into his touch as he brushed a hand against your cheek. "I'm fine, just tired. It was a tough mission."
Bakugo stood up as well, his gaze sharp as he assessed your condition. "You're injured," he said, his voice tight with worry.
You glanced down at yourself, noticing for the first time the cuts and bruises marring your skin. They were nothing serious, just the usual wear and tear of hero work, but Bakugo's concern made your heart ache.
"It's nothing, really," you said, trying to reassure him. "Just a few scratches."
Bakugo didn't look convinced, but he nodded, his expression softening slightly. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," he said, taking your hand and leading you to the bathroom.
Kirishima followed close behind, grabbing the first aid kit from the cabinet as Bakugo helped you sit on the edge of the bathtub. They worked together, gentle yet efficient, cleaning and bandaging your wounds with practiced hands. The whole time, they stayed silent, their presence a comforting anchor in the midst of your exhaustion.
Once they were done, Bakugo stood back, studying their handiwork with a critical eye. "There," he said, his voice gruff. "All patched up."
You thanked them, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. They had taken care of you without hesitation, their concern and care a balm to your weary soul.
"Why don't you go rest?" Kirishima suggested, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "We'll take care of dinner tonight."
You nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. "Thank you," you said, standing up slowly. "I don't know what I'd do without you guys."
Bakugo snorted, rolling his eyes. "Don't get all sappy on us," he said, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
You smiled back, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest. They may not say it often, but their actions spoke louder than words. They were your rock, your support, and you were grateful for them every day.
As you made your way to bed, you knew that no matter how tough the world may be, as long as you had Kats and Ei by your side, you could face anything that came your way.
As you arrived home after a grueling mission, the weight of exhaustion and aches settled heavily upon your shoulders. The day had been long, filled with danger and adrenaline, leaving you battered and bruised. With a weary sigh, you pushed open the door to your shared apartment, the soft click echoing in the quiet space.
Denki Kaminari and Hitoshi Shinso were both lounging on the couch, engrossed in a video game, their laughter filling the room. However, as they caught sight of you, their expressions shifted from amusement to concern in an instant. Denki's eyes widened with worry, while Hitoshi's usual stoic demeanor softened with empathy.
"Hey, are you okay?" Denki asked, jumping up from his seat and rushing over to you. Hitoshi followed suit, his gaze never leaving your tired form.
You managed a weak smile, trying to reassure them despite the pain throbbing through your body. "I'm fine, just a bit banged up," you replied hoarsely.
Without another word, Denki gently guided you to the couch, while Hitoshi disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, he returned with a first aid kit and a glass of water. Hitoshi knelt in front of you, his hands deftly tending to your injuries with a gentle touch that belied his usual aloof exterior.
Denki hovered nearby, his worry evident in every line of his face. "You should have told us you were hurt," he chided softly.
You shook your head weakly. "I didn't want to worry you guys"
Hitoshi finished bandaging your wounds and handed you the glass of water. "You're part of this team too," he said quietly. "We're here for each other."
Denki nodded in agreement, his eyes filled with unspoken emotions. "Yeah, we've got your back no matter what."
As you leaned back against the cushions, feeling their unwavering support enveloping you like a warm embrace, you couldn't help but be grateful for having Denki and Hitoshi by your side. At that moment, despite the pain and weariness that weighed heavily upon you, there was nowhere else you'd rather be than here with them – your teammates, your friends, your family.
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#kiribaku#kiribaku x reader#Shinkami x reader#Denkishinso#denki x reader#shinsou x reader#kirishima x reader#bakugou x reader#bnha eijiro kirishima#bakugou katsuki#denki kaminari#shinsou hitoshi#mha#bnha#one shots#mha x reader#bnha x reader#fanfic#my hero academia#boku no hero academia
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word count: ~18.2K
paring: God!Shinso x f!Nymph!Reader
warning(s): dubcon, marking, slight impact play, somnophilia, oral (f!recieveing), creampie, gods as always being manipulative and cruel.
authors note: hello there, I know I promised this much sooner than it is being granted but as I am sure you can see by the word count, this kind of got away from me. This is actually a sequel to Plucked Flower! And when I was discussing with the lovely @/melodramaticmura about who would be which god, it seemed rather appropriate to have Shinso be the god of sleep. And well, I wanted to make a stand-alone fic of that, perhaps even make a series on it, but it was too tempting to have him steal away Sero's prized nymph so here we are. So please, let Shinso guide you into a peaceful slumber~ 🔮
A long time ago, Gods ruled the world.
Everything that the mortals could see, touch, and know were all controlled by the Gods who blessed them with their divine skills and talents. But, over time, the mortals became more dependent - more greedy - with their reliability on these seraphic creatures. As the demands of the mortals they created, and thus cared for, grew to be overwhelming and abundant, they knew they could not stay within their mortal plane any longer; for they were meant to be treated as divinities, not as servants.
And for once, in a rare moment of solidarity, the Gods worked alongside each other to create a home for which they could call their own; an empyrean realm that only they could have access to, which contained all the splendors known to man and even more. A dwelling where they can find peace and tranquility, and to be finally removed from the demands of the mortals; to finally have the undivided devotion they so craved. For it much easier for a mortal to obey the wishes of a God, if they came they came down to them in a beacon of light and gold.
Serve away they did, the mortals, tending to their temples and bringing forth gifts upon their alters; all the while they would lavish in their heavenly realm of gold and marble, to feast upon delicacies, to relish in the prosperity that the mortals provided to them, and indulge in one another; especially if that indulgence was at the expense of a mortal, to provide them with the vanity and sense of superiority they wished to continue to grasp onto.
Through all this splendor, however, it was easy to grow bored. Hanta, like most Gods, grew bored.
For a God could never cherish anything for too long. An immortal life always paired itself with dissatisfaction; for how could a God truly value anything if they did not have a finite time to have it? How could they enjoy splendor if they have not known poverty? How could they value life if they could not know death? And how could they appreciate anything, if all they wanted was more?
Living forever took the beauty of life away. All the love and heartbreak seemed so meaningless after a while when one could find no reason to hold onto it, that in time it could be replaced by a new adventure, a new thrill, and a new body to make claim to. Why keep something when you could easily abandon the old, and seek out something new?
And despite the many claims he so sweetly whispered within your ear, the many reassurances and acclimations of love, Hanta finally grew bored of you.
You knew it was bound to happen; there truly was only so much a nymph can do to claim the interest of a God. You knew the thrill he found, the infatuation he grew of you, was within the chase of claiming you for himself; the cat-and-mouse game he so perfectly cast and you so perfectly played into was the thrill he wanted within that moment.
Of course, there was the thrill after he caught you. How he laid you upon his bed day in and out and claimed his prize in any way he could; whether that be with sweet words, soft kisses, warm and gentle caresses, or have you on your knees to worship his aching cock, to then have it drag in and out of your tight hole as you scream his name for the heavens to hear.
It was to fill his ego, to have the most prized and beautiful creature to claim as his own. To have complete and utter control held over you, the utter and undiverted devotion that he pulled from you constantly as you obeyed and worshipped him however he pleased. To relish in, not only your body but the jealousy of the Gods around him as they grew envious of his little pet.
And once he lost interest, once his fellow Gods grew unbothered and uncaring of his treasures, he would find some other way to gain a boost to his ego; regardless of the feelings he may hurt along the way.
You had to give him credit though, it took him much longer for him to lose interest in you than what every other god that filled the heavenly realms, and even yourself, thought. Many said a few weeks, some said a few months, and you thought perhaps a year. Though it was hard to tell given the way time seemed to matter little the more you stayed there, how it moved so quickly and yet not at all at the same time, to say how long before he lost interest but it was certainly longer than a year.
It was gradual too. Slowly, but surely, he left you alone in that small portion of the heavens he carved out for you. What started with him parting from you earlier some mornings, thus leaving the giant bed he shared with you empty, turned into every morning as you would reach for him only to be met with cold silk and loneliness to sink to your heart. And soon, those daily visits he would give to you so diligently, to allow you some much-needed company as you staved away your boredom, soon started to wane. How he used to share his meals, his laughter and companionship, started to bore him and consequently, he began to leave you with small scraps that were left behind the day before as he neglected yet another meal, and as the weeks progressed, leaving you hungry altogether.
Though despite all of this, he would still return to you at night; to lull you to sleep in his arms and whisper those sweet nothings into your ear until you fell into a blissful sleep. And it was when he stopped arriving in your bed at night that you knew he no longer cared for you. That those declarations of love were truly just empty words so he could use you as he saw fit, like many a god to a nymph before him. Now leaving you to try and find a semblance of peace all alone in a place you did not belong.
You had no other forms of company either for the other gods barely acknowledged you. Some were spiteful that you would tarnish their realm and way of life by simply existing there as if it was your fault you were placed there. Others tolerated you, though they preferred your silence, wanting merely to look at you and nothing else. Others… they wished to have you in more carnal ways; falsely putting on kind airs only to lure you into their trap - much like Hanta - though luckily none was able to do anything untoward before Hanta intervened; but now you knew not to trust them, and to avoid them altogether.
After Hanta abandoned you, you were left alone to fend for yourself. Granted the small piece of heaven that was made for you was beautiful, and gave you some semblance of peace knowing you would not be bothered here - to which you were eternally grateful to Hanta for such a gift - it left you more lonely than you had ever been in your life. Moreso than when you were cast out from your forest of birth by your fellow Anthousai and forced to find a home, and sisterhood, by yourself.
Because through those trials of loneliness and rejection, you did find a sister. One that loved you, that built a home with you, that kept you company in the best and most nurturing of ways; a companion you adored with your whole heart. And one you were tricked to abandon to come here.
For as lonely as your life got, at least you had her. Here, you had nothing.
You thought of her often, and the memories you shared together, as you lay upon the clouds of gold and splendor alone and unwanted. Thoughts of her made your lonely days more bearable as you reminded yourself of a time when you were wanted, where you were loved, and where you felt happy and fulfilled as you remembered the bouts of laughter shared between the two of you.
Though Nymphs were ageless, they could die in the mortal realm or transform themselves into the nature they were born to nurture. But here? You had no such release, bound to live amongst the gods until the end of days. And as they progressed, you couldn’t help but worry about your sister; you were safe, but was she? Was she still around in your little home within the mountains? Or was she now gone, lost to the passage of time?
Your worry grew tenfold when, one morning, you tried to remember her face and couldn’t. She was the only thing that tethered you to happiness in this cruel world you found yourself in; the only thing that brought you warmth as you were surrounded by coldness. Your heart could not help but sink with dread as you frantically tried to think of her face. You had to, for she was the reason your sanity was still intact. She was the reason your heart had not broken fully.
You couldn’t help but weep for weeks on end as you slowly realized you were forgetting her.
You knew you could not sit idly by and let this happen to you; to allow these cruel creatures to break your spirit out of amusement. You had to know, had to remember, for it was all you had left; and you were going to cling to it, to fight for it, for all eternity if you had to.
So you waited, with determination blazing your heart and mind, for the God - the man - who caused all of this. Knowing that at some point he will show up and grant you a visit. He would do so every now and then, seemingly almost out of obligation like an owner would for a pet they cared little for. You knew then, you could ask him for a favor.
~
It was hard to tell how long it had been, how long you had been waiting, but finally, the day had come when you were granted a visit from the winged God; the flapping of his wings signalling you, and thus filling your body with hope, as you heard him approach. Scrambling you got to your feet, unable to hide your excitement as you stood, as you waited with bated breath for him to appear.
Hanta brought with him a tray of food, many delicacies that the Gods would indulge in, ambrosia and wine, you were unsure if this was a way for him to apologize for leaving you for so long without a meal, but the proud smile he garnered on his face when he approached you was clear he felt like he was providing you with a gift.
And though you wished to scowl at him, wanting to allow him to know how unfair it was for him to leave you with little food and company, you knew you had to be your usual sweet self if it meant allowing you to get your way.
You welcomed him with open arms, clinging to him tightly as you knew he loved for you to do, as you babbled sweetly on how much you missed him, nuzzling your face into his chest as a sign of utmost affection.
You could feel him chuckle before the deep and mirthful sound could fill your ears, as he brought a hand to pet your hair “I miss you too, my beautiful flower.”
His gentle petting of your hair turned into gentle tugging, clearly wanting to have your part so he may rest and enjoy the meal he brought; guiding you gently to do the same and he passed you a goblet of wine; deep purple in colour a far cry from the strawberry wine he used to give you.
You sipped it gently as you listened to him regale tales of what had befallen him while he was away, some excuse as to why he could not visit you before now, as he indulged in your quiet devotion. Though after a while, noticing your lack of enthusiasm or want to partake in the glorious meal, he grew a little concerned as he leaned over towards you to pet at your cheek.
“What is wrong, my sweet love?” Hanta asked of you, moving to push a few strands of hair away from your face “You do not seem yourself.”
You found yourself bashful over his sweet gesture, almost surprised that he still held some tenderness for you. With a timid smile, and huff of a laugh you shook your head “No, no, nothing is wrong.”
“I can tell when you are lying, love” Hanta smiled back, ducking his head to look properly at your face; finding your reaction to him filling his sense of pride. “So please, indulge me”
You took the line he was casting, knowing now would be the only time you could possibly have to pluck the courage to ask him; shyly looking back at him as you tried to find the words, forever grateful for his patience as he looks upon you with tender eyes as he waits for you to speak.
“I was just wondering…” You finally began, “Seeing as I have a few myself these past few nights, if… if you gods ever dream?”
Sero scoffed at you, finding your question as silly and innocent as you were, tone almost condescending as he leaned down closer, a hand continuously stroking your cheek. “Oh my dear, of course we don’t. A God has no need for such childish things as dreams, those are silly things we made for mortals to keep them happy.”
You cannot help yourself from turning your eyes downcast at his almost brutal condescension. Taking a moment to compose yourself before you batted your lashes up at him; your wide and sad eyes a weakness you knew to be his when it came to you, as you asked him again, “Hanta, surely there are times when they are needed, even for a God. If what you say is true, if gods have no need for dreams that mortals do, then there is still a need. Therefore there is a God who provides these, and thus can help another God if needed.”
Hanta began to draw away from you, clearly figuring out where you were trying to lead the conversation. His eyes could not help but turn darker as jealousy began to cloud his vision of your wanting to seek out another god, as his grip upon your head grew tighter. “You want this God, is that it? The God that provides you these sweet dreams, you want him in your bed?”
You tried to shake your head as best you could, wincing at the slight pain he was now causing you, whimpering out weakly, “No, not at all! I only wish for you to warm my bed!”
“Then why are you asking me about him?” Hanta could not stop his voice from turning dark, not at all enjoying the fact that you would want to seek another god for any reason; were you truly ungrateful over all that he had done for you that you would find it inadequate?
Though you were not wanting to engage in his wrath, you could not help but become a little elated over the fact that there was a God of Sleep; and Hanta knew of him. But if you ever wished to find him, to be allowed to move freely to do so, you would have to calm, and flatter, the God before you.
“Because I need aid with my dreams,” you whimpered out, eyes turning glassy as they begin to fill with tears - another weakness you knew Hanta to have and for you to exploit. And you almost wanted to smile, to drop the act, at how quickly it worked.
You could see his eyes soften, his grip loosening, as he scanned your face; his other hand coming up to cup your other cheek as he began to fawn over you in concern. “Why? Have you been plagued with nightmarish vision? Have they hurt you?”
You shook your head, though it clearly was not enough to reassure him as his hands continued to stroke your cheeks in a calming manner. You knew you had him in the palm of your hand, as you allowed a few tears to fall from your eyes.
“Then why do you need to seek the Sleep God, my love?” He asked, voice still gentle as he looked down upon you, wanting nothing more than to cease those tears from falling.
“So I can remember my sister!” You blubbered out, and though the tears were falsified before they became honest and true as you reminded yourself of your sister; how the thoughts of forgetting began to cause those tears to fall more freely and stain your delicate face.
“Please, I left her behind for my love for you was stronger. I cannot help but miss her, and if I cannot go to the mortal realm to see her, then I wish to dream of her.” You choked out, as you grabbed hold of his hand, kissing his palm to try and sweeten him and his ego further. “Please Hanta, if you love me as you claim to do, you will allow me this small gift.”
Who was he to refuse you? His good, and obedient nymph. He couldn’t, not when you looked at him so sorrowfully. With a nod of his head, he pulled you into his arms, shushing you as he kisses the crown of your head.
“Do not cry, my love. I’ll take you to him.”
~
Though the heavenly realm proved to be a gift above all else, it was not shared equally amongst those that built it. Those whose gifts were heavily tied to the mortals, that dealt with the macabre that their lives would bring, were looked down upon by those whose talents were more serene. It was easier, and more harmonious, to live amongst those that gave love and song than those who had to deal with death and sorrow.
So they were banished to a realm seldom visited unless a favour was needed; a realm filled with darkness that lacked the treasures from above; the Underworld.
Hanta kept you close as you made your way down into the depths of the depressive world, carrying you within his arms and tucking your head into his chest to spare you from the horrors that await a long journey such as this. Needing to protect you, his precious flower, from a dangerous place such as this realm proved to be; a venture no nymph should find herself in, but he was willing to do this for you to cease the sorrow that had befallen you. At times, you yourself couldn’t help but whimper as you clung even tighter to his tunic as the wails of lost souls made your heart stutter with fear.
Soon his wings fluttered to a stop, gingerly setting your feet upon the damp ground, before a cavern-like area. The dark obsidian that lay jagged, almost broken, surrounded the open entrance of the cave and made you question if you should enter, for it seemed far from hospitable. Nonetheless, Hanta pushed you forward, forcing you to take the first step towards what you desired; knowing that he would not be wanted within the rooms of these lands
“Go on, my love” Hanta smiled gently, easing your fear and reassuring you of any falsities your mind could conjure up. “He will not harm you, and I will stay right here should you need me.”
With a tentative nod, you resigned yourself to your fate as you turned towards the lair before you. With a deep breath, your trembling feet began their stride toward the God who may be able to help you.
The corridor itself was long, lined with those jagged dark rocks and jewels, as you kept yourself small and away from it all as you continued down the winding passage; unsure if it would even allow you to find your way out of its seemingly endless path. A dim light, one of calming blue, rid you of any sense of hopelessness as you approached a room. The room was darker than what you were used to, but that calming blue hue filled the entirety of the space and allowed you to take in the surroundings.
It was more beautiful than you were expecting. An inverse of the pastel and gold that covered the heavenly realm, as dark marble and a silvery mist surrounded you; intricate furnishings with many a carving of stories long past deep within them. Despite the warnings, despite the claims otherwise, this place was not of ruin and decay, but rather of equal splendor that you have become accustomed to from the heavenly realm above.
In the center of all the strange but wonderful opulence sat a giant glass orb propped so beautifully atop of a pillar, woven so intricately like vines, of tourmaline. You couldn’t help but approach it, the alluring purple aura seemed to call out to you, reaching your delicate hand before you, nothing else crossed your mind that your desire to touch the orb's smooth surface.
“You’re a bold little one, aren’t you?” Hitoshi spoke, chuckling deeply as he took in your startled form.
You jolted your body towards where you heard the God speak, and looked upon his figure that sat on a simple, but elegant, throne of silver; mere feet past the orb. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, flushing them in embarrassment for being so engrossed by a crystalline ball that you failed to notice him. Sheepishly you lowered yourself to your knees - tucking your head close to your chest - as you bowed deeply to him to showcase your respect.
“I apologize for my rude intrusion,” you whimpered, knowing how fickle and quick to anger most Gods were, and hoping your little oversight of his presence would not cause his wrath.
“Rise,” He tells you, clear from his infliction that he finds boredom in your display of decorum, sitting more upright within his throne to regard your form with interested eyes. “And state your business here. For it is not every day a mortal like yourself so brazenly enters my domain.”
You nervously shift your weight from foot to foot, keeping your gaze downcast as you do as you are told; unable to not find his intense gaze unnerving. “I-I was hoping to seek your skills, to help me with a sorrowful plight I find myself enduring for I-!.”
His low chuckle made your shoulders tense even further, as the flush that painted your face grew darker. He raised a hand to cease your babbling from continuing; perhaps he found you childish if the condescending shake of his head as he leaned closer to you, was anything to go by.
“I already know what you are here for, little one. Merely wanted to see you squirm in nervousness for a moment longer.” He began to explain. “I already know who you are and your plight; the sad reality of the God of Sleep is that I know every mortal’s dream, and must endure the burdens that come with it.”
You can tell his words rung true, for as you finally gazed up at his handsome face you could see the dark circles that stained the skin under his eyes, his own sunken deep within his skull, you could tell he suffered the same nightmarish visions, the unease and sorrow, and the sleeplessness you, and the many mortals like you, may find.
“You wish to see your sister, for you are forgetting her,” Hitoshi continued, hand rubbing his forehead as he sighed, watching the elation come forth upon your face as you frantically nodded your head, knowing that now he must aid you in some fashion or else you would not leave him to be alone once more.
He stood from his throne, his height more imposing than you thought it to be, to stalk his way over to you and the crystalline ball you stand beside; shrinking away from him, you allowed him to pass you with little fuss. With a wave of his hand, the orb filled with a cloud of dark purple smoke. He beckoned you closer to him once it did, and you watched as the smoke slowly cleared away the closer you found yourself to the God and his crystalline glass; soon revealing your sister’s slumbering face.
“She dreams of you often,” He stated, standing aside to allow you the chance to look upon the image without distraction.
“She does?” You could not help but become overwhelmed with both joy and sorrow as you gazed upon her; elated to know she was still alive and dreamt of you. You just merely wished you could do the same. Tears formed in your eyes as you reached out a cautious hand to gently touch upon the smooth glass, to caress the image of her cheek. “It warms my heart to know that, thank you.”
Hitoshi allowed you a moment to stare, gaze looking upon you in question; pondering what he should do. Knowing of your current plight, one of abandonment and loneliness, he could not help but relate. He found a semblance of sympathy and empathy for the creature before him; for he too found seldom joy within the realm of the Underworld, being placed here and forgotten by the Gods that claimed to be his brothers. He could not help but wish to end your suffering, as well as his. He tried his hardest to garner a plan out of this small act of kindness he would give forth to you in your time of need.
“You certainly act brave,” he called out to you, tone more gentle than before, “but I know you wish to dream of her yourself though pride is stopping you from asking me such a favour. For the Gods that surround you only grant one if you provide something in return.”
He pauses, allowing you a moment to take in his words; speaking once more as he could tell your attention was back on him rather than your sister, watching as your brows furrowed in question, knowing he must speak carefully in order for his plan to work
“I can assure you that I wish nothing in return,” he stated plainly, as he moved to sit on his throne once more. “The end of your sorrowful anguish, to cease the added pain and suffering it causes me, will be payment enough. I only ask for you to visit me here, should you wish to take upon my offer, for it shall be easier for me to provide you with the dreams you want from my throne.”
His response took you by surprise, as you gazed upon him in shock, overwhelmed by his apparent kindness that you could not do anything for a moment but stand there frozen in place - much like the few marble statues that decorated his home.
“Does that suit you?” Hitoshi asked, a brow raised in question as he watched you with amusement.
You nodded your head in a rapid fashion as you scurried your way back to him; unable to stop yourself from taking hold of his hands and squeezing them as you knelt in a bow before him once again; “God of Sleep, truly I wish there were more words I could say and express to you my gratitude and thanks to your kindness, but alas I cannot, but please know from the bottom of my heart that I am so overjoyed to hear you speak those words….” You continued profusely babbling to him your thanks and you kept his hand tightly within yours.
“Hitoshi, you may call me Hitoshi.” He simply smiled, finding your devotion towards him at that moment welcomed for it rarely happened, relishing in it for a moment longer before removing your hands from his. “I await our next visit, but for now it is time for you to depart.”
You nodded your head in understanding before you bowed your head to him once more in respect, then gingerly walked down the few steps from his throne and towards the long, jagged corridor of obsidian without another word or complaint.
“I will send my trusted friend Tamaki to fetch you,” Hitoshi called out to you, a smirk playing on his lips. “So there will be no need to bother and bring Hanta back with you.”
~
Hitoshi was true to his word, another surprising moment for you within a land of selfish and deceiving Gods, for when you woke the next morning - alone once more in your vast bed of silk - you caught sight of a man standing within a dark wooden gondola, seemingly waiting for you. Clearly, there was no one else he could possibly be there for, as this small portion of the heavens was made for you, a portion that seldom had visitors.
Slowly you rose, eyes straining to properly see him, though you knew he was here for you the man situated himself so far away from your slumbering form that you couldn’t help but have a twinge of doubt.
‘Was he perhaps timid?’
A strange notion, and trait, for a God to possess but the closer you approached him, in your barely covered form, the more you began to realize it was true. Another handsome face, as all Gods possess, though his pale skin and dark hair were a striking contrast to the bright flush that stained his face and pointed ears; clearly he was bashful over looking at you in such a state - his eyes never looked upon for more than a brief second before darting away.
“A-are you, Tamaki...?” You asked him, timidness within your own voice as you softly called out to him, trepidation filling your being as you continued to approach him; after all, you had been fooled before by false displays.
“Y-yes I am!” You could see his eyes snap up to you as he stood taller as if bringing forth his name meant bringing forth his station and thus made him want to stand with pride. “I am the Ferryman of the Underworld, I was sent here to get you.”
You watched as he paused, giving you one more look-over before averting his eyes again, letting out a small cough of discomfort over your barely covered body; a reaction you were not used to getting, though perhaps he too was guarded for the fear of unleashing the wrath of a fellow brother was not something he wished upon himself.
“...Though perhaps I should allow you to dress before bringing you before Hitoshi,” he finished, clutching tighter the giant wooden oar he carried and was using for support
Your face flushed in a similar red to the God before you as you nodded your head, perhaps it would have been wiser to dress before approaching the strange presence that entered your little domain, but curiosity always did get the better of you. You nodded your head politely before scurrying off to find suitable garb to wear.
You admired Tamaki’s patience, and his courteous nature for it took you far longer to find a dress that would keep you warm as you stayed in the cooler domain of the Underworld; after all, when Sero brought you here, dressing you in fine clothing was the least of his worries. Every time you looked over at the Ferryman, his eyes were never focused on you, but rather daydreaming as he gazed upon the soft pastel colours of clouds above.
You approached him again once ready, and the kind smile he cast as he gently helped guide you into his gondola put your racing heart at ease; you could not say with certainty that you could trust him, but as he allowed you to sit and get comfortable before slowly descending his vessel down towards the domain he called home you couldn’t help but think that maybe you could.
He was a wonderful guide as well as you made your way back into the treacherous waters and dark world that was the netherworld. His tone, and demeanor, always reassured your every need; from when your shoulders would tense as the gondola grew a little too close to the sides of a cavern, or how your hands would grasp the side of the vessel tightly as the descent moved a little too quickly, or when the screams of the wailing souls became almost unbearable causing you to cover your eyes - he would gently reassure your fears every time.
“Do not fret, fair nymph,” Tamaki’s soft voice rang out above the screeching souls that lay below you, effectively stealing your attention away from their pity. “They will pass in due time, they merely wish to make those suffer alongside them; once they see you will not befallen to their tricks, they will leave you be.”
“They will..?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, unable to properly hear yourself as you continued to try and close your hearing off to the cries of the lost souls, scooting yourself towards the middle of the gondola to avoid their reaching hands.
Yet he still heard you, as if the deafening keenings meant nothing to him, as he nodded his head; using his long oar to steer his vessel down a long stretch of water, away from that of the river Styx. “And do not fear them, as long you are in my care they will not harm you nor snatch you from my boat.”
Slowly the gondola came to a stop, the motion as smooth as the silvery water below, in front of a familiar obsidian cave - the entrance still as daunting and inhospitable as you remembered it being the day before, even if now you knew you were wanted within those walls. He helped guide you, with a courteous hand, up from your seat and out of the dark wooden craft he had grown accustomed to; only pulling his hand from your grasp, and thus support, once your feet were firmly planted on the ground before you.
“Thank you, Tamaki,” You said, eyes gleaming with genuine sincerity as you gazed upon him, your hand taking his once more to give it a small squeeze of gratitude. You almost giggled when you noticed his cheeks began to flush once more, as his bashfulness took hold and caused him to turn away from you yet again and focus his attention elsewhere.
“I shall be here to guide you back once you are done,” he muttered, his voice never before sounding so small since you met him, as he tugged his hand from your grasp. “Now go. Hitoshi can become impatient if you make him wait too long.”
With a nod of your head, you turned to face the mouth of the cave, dread setting in once more as you swallowed thickly the anxiety that began to bubble up within you; praying that you had not caused the God of Sleep ire for taking so long to get to him as you made your first steps back to his throne.
The blue light guided you as before, calming the gnawing apprehension that made a purchase into your heart for you felt as if you were a lamb being led to slaughter despite the generosity and kindness you were shown merely moments before. Tamaki had said that he would not have harm be brought before you, therefore he would not lead you to harm. You were not a lamb being led to slaughter, as you so felt at that moment, by merely approaching and being within Hitoshi’s lair.
Just as you did before, with timid and apprehensive steps, you stepped through the threshold of silver smoke and jagged obsidian into the room he resided and called home; eyes downcast, feeling smaller than ever before, you took gingered steps to where he sat upon his pearly throne, kneeling before him as a mortal should before a God. His imposing figure, one that loomed over you, caused you to lower your bow further until your head laid upon the cool marble your feet once stood upon.
“Not as bold today, are we?” Hitoshi chuckled, releasing you with an unhurried motion of his hand, his eyes staying with your figure as you moved to stand before him.
He watched as you simply shook your head in response, gaze still downcast as if too nervous to meet his eye; a frown formed upon his lips in disappointment over your timid display, wishing for you to be more excited, more jubilant like you were in your last meeting. Though perhaps it was because of your actions yesterday that you felt the need to be more apprehensive of your every move, not wanting to accidentally offend or upset him.
Hitoshi hummed, finding your continued lack of response telling of his assumptions. He stood from his throne and gracefully sauntered down the few imposing steps before it, regarding you and your smaller form for a brief moment before he ushered you to follow him, to which you did so dutifully; to come before the crystalline ball and its swirling clouds of violet haze.
Once more, when the smoke began to tire of its own billowing dance and wished to retire away, images of your sister arose causing you to sigh out in quiet joy and behold her sweet and slumbering form.
“You may stay for as long as you wish,” Hitoshi whispered out, finding that if he were to speak louder he may spook you from the charming trance he had put you under, as he placed his hand upon the small of your back to guide you closer to where you truly wished to be.
He almost chuckled at how you merely nodded in response to his generosity, too engrossed with your sister to think of anything else; even the gracious God providing you such a spectacle. Perhaps if he was in a worse mood, he may have been offended, perhaps even telling you to leave. And yet, he found it rather amusing, endearing even. He could tell why you were plucked from the mortal realm and kept amongst the gods as a pretty rose to gaze upon for eternity - you were certainly an interesting creature, at least as far as he could tell.
“Enjoy it for as long as you may like,” he spoke again, settling down once more onto his throne, chin within his palm as he gazed at you wondering if your response would change. He chuckled to himself when he saw the small rise and nod of your head; clearly too enraptured still to even think of a single word.
Time was frozen still for you, at least that was how you saw it, when you gandered down upon your sister; eyes filled with warmth as your fingers delicately outlined her face with thoughts that raced through your mind. You wondered what she dreamt of, what the days ahead of her looked like, and if she remembered you. A faint smile painted your lips as you thought of all the possibilities that could befall upon her.
Though time at that moment was still for you, it still marched onward.
For Hitoshi, he watched you for hours. His chin never left his palm, as his eyes just softly gazed at your form; curiosity further seeped into his being the longer you stayed. He was almost disappointed when he had to have this little visit come to an end, something he could not help but find odd as no words were spoken between the pair of you. Yet he could feel he missed your presence already.
“The sun is about to rise, little one,” he called out as he sat more upright upon his throne, “which means your sister will wake, and thus we will no longer be able to see her in my crystalline orb.”
“Has it really been that long?” You softly answered, voice barely above a whisper as your hand dropped from the item in question back to hang limply at your side.
“Afraid it has.”
“Then I thank you kindly for allowing me such a prolonged gift as this,” You said, casting forth to him a smile of gratitude; though despite your efforts not, you could tell sadness seeped through. You bowed once more, kneeling upon the ground you had spent hours standing upon. “It was more than I could have hoped for.”
“You are welcome to come back here if you so choose,” He watched as you stood once more, an amused smile gracing his handsome face. “For you have been nothing but a quiet and respectful guest.”
“I-I can…?” You questioned, hands coming forth to clasp together nervously; wondering if his amusement was genuine due to your company or if he had a trick he wished to play and had accidentally shown his hand.
“I have not had a more peaceful rest since the millennia started.” He began, gracefully taking a pause so he may walk over to you. “If having you here to admire your sister means I can have more moments of levity like this, then I would be a fool to cast it aside.”
Hitoshi took your hand in his, bringing it forth to place a tender kiss upon the back of it before turning it over to place a small golden bell within your palm, before letting it go.
“Should you ever wish to return, ring this bell twice. It shall signal to Tamaki that you will be in need of his services, and thus will return you here.”
It was the jubilation on your face, he could only assume, that was what made him wish to provide you this sanctuary in the first place. Your smile beamed forth a ray of light as you gazed up at him, clasping tightly the small gift he had provided to you close to your heart.
“Thank you!” You gushed, feet almost stumbling over themselves as you didn’t know if you wanted to go forth to him and take his hand to showcase your gratitude, or if you wanted to leave to ensure further rest for this God before you (as well as showcase your prize to Tamaki, the man the bell was tied to).
In the end, you chose to scamper away, your gratitude and declarations of thanks echoing within the long and winding hallway. Hitoshi merely shook his head, breathing a sigh of mirth as he returned to his throne; his mind raced with thoughts of you. He wondered if he would get to see more moments of your bubbling personality showcased to him, more so than the small snippet he was blessed with at that moment.
Ultimately all of his thoughts led to one conclusion, that he hoped you would ring the bell very soon.
~
Despite your desire otherwise, it took you a little more than a fortnight to call upon Tamaki once more; not at all for the reason that you were no longer interested in visiting the Underworld once again and indulging in the gifts brought before you, but rather you would feel horrible if you were to summon a God such as he to take you to and fro on whatever whim you had. Knowing he had far more important tasks to uphold, not simply to take care of you.
Yet, Tamaki greeted you with that same kind smile, one that grew wider when you apologized for being such an inconvenience as you clambered into his boat.
“Nonsense.” He chuckled, using his oar to steer his vessel. “Your company is a highlight to my day, a far better kind than the souls that screech for my attention. So you need not worry about calling me forth.”
“Is that so?” You hummed, leaning forward towards him with a smile, placing your chin in your palm.
“Yes.” His face flushed that familiar shade of red, yet his eyes remained on you - clearly less shy than before as he grew more accustomed to your presence. “So, call upon me whenever you wish, for I know Hitoshi would prefer if you did as well.”
His eyes then looked away from you to instead focus on successfully steering you to where you were to be; back to Hitoshi. You took the time to survey the surroundings, as it was clear the ride was to remain in silence until the end, taking into account all the small jewels and gems that littered the dark walls of the nether realm. A small glimmer of beauty and hope in an otherwise bleak and dreadful world as you continued your descent.
Though this time, after the boat had slowed to a stop, a visitor was there waiting for you.
Hitoshi stood tall, making the daunting entrance of his lair seem small and almost meek. He approached the gondola with purposeful steps. His eyes glimmered with mirth as he nodded his head towards his old friend Tamaki before he bowed before you.
“As always, you have arrived safe and sound.” Hitoshi’s deep voice mumbled out, as he stood to his full height once more. “I am grateful to be able to have Tamki provide such a service.”
“As am I.” You managed to get out, voice meek, as you looked over at the ferryman in question. “He certainly puts me at ease and makes this descent more palatable.”
“Yes, well, I cannot argue with such a statement,” Hitoshi mumbled again before presenting his hand for you to take. “But a ride is not why you are here, now is it? Come along, little one, we cannot keep Tamaki from his duties any longer.”
You nodded your head, giving one last grateful smile towards the God who brought you here, before gingerly placing your hand upon his; finding Hitoshi’s gentle strength almost dizzying as he lifted you from the gondola with ease.
With practiced ease, surely muscle memory for him at this point, he guided you through the caverns towards his home; not at all bothered by the sharp stones that jutted from the walls or the rocky terrain as you were. You leaned into him often, finding his presence and body a needed support, as you tried to keep up with his quick pace.
You wished that the path toward his throne room would be more kind, less abrasive, and less aggressive toward those that wished to seek his help. But much like those gemstones hidden amongst the cavern walls of the Underworld, once you got through all the dread and unpleasantness, you were greeted with something wonderful. And the vast room he called his own always seemed to comfort you in some way whenever you entered it.
This time, when you passed through the haze of silver smoke that always permeated the air around his threshold, like a door to keep his privacy intact, you already found your sister’s slumber face illuminating the giant crystalline ball you had grown so fond of.
Hitoshi allowed you to break free from his hold of you to dart towards your sister, following after you at a much more leisurely pace. He could not blame you for your eagerness to see her, after all her slumbering form was a beauty to behold in and of itself, however he did wish he could hold you and your attention just a moment longer before it was diverted elsewhere.
Nevertheless, he had a plan today. One that he knew you would adore above all else, even more so than any gift the Love God had ever given you previously, or since you entered the realm of the Gods. Unhurried, he followed behind you, taking in the image of your admiring eyes for a moment longer before deciding to break the peaceful silence that had befallen.
“Do you wish to visit her?” He asked, placing his hand to the back of your neck to stroke the hair that laid there.
“More than anything…” You whispered, smiling fondly at the image before you, an action you had grown accustomed to doing. “However, such a wonder cannot happen, nor be granted to me while I am here.”
Hitoshi chuckled, an almost sinister grin forming upon his lips as he gazed down at you, lowering his head to whisper in your ear, “What if I told you that you could?”
He delighted in the way your body shivered at his action, the way your eyes finally were diverted from your sister and thus focused upon him; that he finally was the one to capture your whole attention.
“Can you?” You breathed out, having lost all the air within your lungs and body over his words; unable to breathe at not only the possibility of perhaps being able to hold your sister in your arms again, but the price it might cost for such a miracle.
“Dreams are an amusing thing, little one.” Hitoshi smiled, taking hold of your shoulders so you could face him fully. “A reality that is not fully our own, a realm in and of itself that is not beholden to the same rules as ours.”
He paused, and watched as your little brain tried to understand fully what he was saying. Finding it adorable when your brows furrowed together in concentration as you tried to put the pieces he was alluding to together. He brought his hand up to pat your head, stroking his palm down your hair soothingly as he continued.
“I can control that realm, a gift given to me by my mother.” He muttered those words, his smile growing wider as he saw your eyes light up in hope. “If you allow me your trust, to give forth your sleep to me, I shall be able to connect your dreams together and thus allow you a brief moment to be together again.”
It was almost comical to him how trusting you were, how you would so easily give up something so precious as the ability to command your own sleep to him. How you practically threw yourself into his arms, in both desperation and shock that such a gift could exist, as you quietly begged him for that chance.
“Please Hitoshi!” You said, hands clinging tightly to his tunic as you felt your eyes well with tears as your feelings overwhelmed you. “I beseech you, please, take me to her. I would ask nothing more of you, of your skills, gifts, or time, if you allowed me this. My anguish would cease being your burden if you allowed me to speak with her just this once.”
You turned your face away from him as you felt the warmth of your tears begin to stain your cheeks. Wanting to lessen your humiliation, you focused back on the image of your sister, and you asked him once more to take you to her, even if only for a brief moment.
Your naivety, your utter trust in him after all you had known and learned from the Gods, made Hitoshi’s smile grow even darker as mischievousness tainted it. You were so willing to eat from his palm, that you had no time to properly think if his intentions were pure. So blindsided by the love of your sister and desire to see her, you would do anything - even if it meant being at his mercy.
He almost felt pity for you, such a sweet creature like yourself being taken advantage of by a more powerful being.
Almost.
“Hush, little one,” he cooed, almost in condescension, as he pulled you against him once more to dry the tears that fell so freely from your eyes. “I would have not have offered such a gift if I had no intention of giving it to you.”
He continued to brush your tears away as he listened to you hiccup and sob, trying your best to form a response to him and his kindness but failing; shushing you once more as he pulled your head to rest against his chest, allowing you a moment of reprieve to calm yourself down.
“Now, now.” He began after silence had enveloped the pair of you for a breath. “Whenever you are ready, please lay yourself down in any place you deem comfortable within my home.”
He allowed you to pull away once more, watching as you sniffled and nodded your head, your hand wiping away the last of your tears as you looked about the abode. Deciding that his throne would be the most comfortable spot to choose if you were to lay down. However, you could not bring yourself to gain the courage to sit upon his throne. Instead, you chose to lean your body upright to sit comfortably against it, your head settled upon the arm of his chair to further ensure that you would slump over once sleep overtook you.
Hitoshi wanted patiently as you made your decision, finding your bold action to use his throne in some fashion entertaining, a refreshing outcome from your usual polite and timid nature. He approached you once it was made clear you were comfortable, kneeling down to your eye level as he brushed your hair away from your face.
“Close your eyes for me… there we are, that’s good,” he whispered out, eyes turning a pale silver, like the mist that surrounded his room, before he brought his hand up to your face. “Now, I must warn that you may feel nauseous once being thrust from one realm to the next, do your best to focus on where you are headed, for it will help, alright?”
You nodded your head in acknowledgment over his words, shifting one last time in a more comfortable position. “Alright.”
“Good, and do not fret, I will watch over you”
With that, his hand made contact with your brow as his power surged through your being. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, as you felt your consciousness being violently thrust from this plane, this realm of existence. You fought back the turning of your stomach, the urge to fetch up the bile that sat in your stomach, as you gripped tightly to your robes; to ground yourself into the reality you wished to be in most, a dream with your sister. Abruptly, your world and soul stopped moving, lurching you forward to fall into a soft and grassy field; a meadow that reminded you of when you used to run through and create flower crowns with your sister, a long time ago.
You turned, and turned, and turned, trying to find your bearings as well as anything of importance or familiarity within the giant landscape of flora you had been transported to. Your eyes tried their best to adjust to the bright light that had been thrust upon you from a sun that was nowhere in sight; but after all the disorientation that you had suffered, your mind eventually cleared. Gone was the haze that clouded it, and now you could finally spot, far in the distance, a sight that made your heart warm. Your old home.
You picked up your skirts with a watery smile, doing your best to hold back the tears of happiness that were about to fall, as you began to run towards it. Elated was how you felt for at last you made it back to the one place you felt joy within your long life. Back to the place where you felt love and adoration; back to her.
When the rundown cabin, filled with trinkets and coin from travelers long past, became far more than a small speck on the horizon, your voice came to you. Shouting your sister’s name, screaming out your presence here, as you continued to sprint as quickly as you could to her.
You caught sight of her after a few calls of her name, her head poking out from the bedroom window you used to share. Your pace quickened, far past your own abilities but you found little use to care of the pain when the person you loved most was in view, as you called out even louder; an arm waving to allow her to notice you promptly. You became jubilant as the realization of who you were came across her face. You almost tripped over your own feet as laughter began to pour out of you, as you took in the actions of her throwing open the cabin door with abandon, her not bothering to care of any damage she caused, before she ran to meet you.
The embrace you shared with one another was so forceful and tight that it caused you both to fall to the ground, pain and soreness subsided by the sounds of each other's laughter over finally being together once more; to hold one another and feel whole again. Sobs soon mixed in with the laughter, tears of joy understandably shed, as you both clung onto each other tightly. You were the first to pull away, certain that she would not disappear once doing so, wanting to see her face fully for the first time after all these years.
“There you are,” you breathed out, pressing your forehead against her with a relieved sigh “Oh, how I missed you terribly! My thoughts while we were apart were only of you.”
“As were mine!” She huffed out a laugh, bringing forth her hand to dry the flowing tears from her eyes. “I have been dreaming the same dream for years, hoping that one day you would return back to me.”
“I’m sorry it took so long!” You sobbed, leaning into her to wrap your arms tightly around her, burying your face within her shoulder as you babbled out another apology; finding comfort as she gingerly played with your hair as she used to do whenever you were upset.
“There is no need to apologize, my dear sister.” She uttered, resting her head atop yours. “All that matters right now is that we are finally together. After so long, after so much time apart, we are together again.”
She felt more so than saw your head nod in agreement, taking yet another moment to bask in the warmth that was your glow (as you did the same) before she patted at your back, an action that caused you to pull away slightly. With a warm smile, she caressed your cheek, humming in delight when she felt the heated skin upon her fingertips as her eyes searched yours.
“Come with me,” she finally spoke, standing with an outstretched hand for you to take. “Let me bring you home.”
With an ecstatic nod of your head, you agreed. Tears formed in your eyes at the mere thought of entering the home you once shared with her again as you took hold of her hand, allowing her to pull you to your feet. Together you walked alongside each other, pulling on each other’s arms, as nostalgia washed through you both - like a warm blanket on a winter’s eve - as you remembered a time when this was the existence you lead.
Meanwhile, as you slept, Hitoshi dutifully watched over you; finding your slumbering face rather beautiful as you allowed him to keep guard. He wondered if you were also so trusting, so naive about the world and the nature of Gods. Surely you must be if a few simple words of affirmation by another would allow you to be swallowed up by him; to follow willingly into a world not your own. Even more so, trust a God like him, after staying in this unforgiving place for so long.
Regardless, he stroked your cheek with a fond smile, knowing that this would not be the last time he would see you, to relish in your serene beauty, and enjoy your company; already his mind had raced with the many ways he wished to spend it.
~
The Gods within the Underworld barely get any company, as the Gods in the realm above them would rather steer clear of their domain; a sense of haughtiness as they turn their noses up at the prospect of spending their precious time with Gods they deem lower than them.
Therefore it cannot be helped that Hitoshi grew rather fond of you so quickly; a meek and sweet little nymph like yourself was more than a welcomed guest in his domain. Truly he would do anything in his power to have you keep visiting him and wanting his company. And, being the naive little thing you were, you so easily gave him the control he needed to ensure you would come crawling back to him; the power to manipulate your dreams and sleep.
He wasn’t going to be cruel, after all, he wanted you to trust him and to do so of your own free will. At first, he only took an hour or two of sleep away, a simple ploy set in action for whenever you arrived back to him, he was able to easily coerce you to stay even longer; to catch up on the rest you had missed. Of course, you did not mind in the slightest, for that merely meant allowing you the chance to spend more time with your sister in the small way you could.
Once you woke, you always repaid him in kind, indulging him further with your awakened company; answering his questions, both of simplicity (like the times you recalled what your favoured the most) and those of a more personal nature (like the many stories of your previous life within the mortal realm). As well, you allowed him to showcase to you more of his domain and home, taking his arm with little fuss as he regaled the histories of the items that surrounded you, explaining to you how everything worked within the Underworld; from the souls, Tamaki would bring through, to the decisions Shigraki would make to keep things in order, to his own duty of keeping mortals well rested so they may continue their devotion to the many Gods they adored.
At the end, before he set you free to leave with Tamaki, he would always find the small pleasure of kissing the back of your hand; heart thrilling as you would cast before him your sweet smile before bidding adieu. He longed for you to gaze at him so lovingly, to hold and keep that precious smile with him forever.
Though, after a while, your stays with him became less frequent. Hitoshi used to be blessed by your company almost every other day. Before he knew of it, those frequent days together dwindled down to merely a couple of visits every few weeks. Now? Now Hitoshi would be lucky if he got to enjoy your presence once a month. And the worst of it was, whenever you finally did show your pretty face, there never was an explanation as to why you were gone from him for so long. With a wave of your hand, you would brush it aside, as if starving him of your companionship was nothing to be of worry, as you approached his throne.
Truly, when all was said and done, this was all your own doing.
Hitoshi simply could not have you vanish like the silver mist that enveloped his throne, he doubted he could survive if you did. So, he just had to make things a little bit worse for you; to slowly deprive you of more and more sleep. And the times he would gift you with slumber, they would be filled with dreams unpleasant and cruel.
He just had to have you crawl back to him, to stay with him. He simply had to.
~
It wasn’t as if you did not want to visit Hitoshi, you wished with every fiber of your being that you could; you really did. You enjoyed the time spent with him, both he and Tamaki were very kind and always sought to make you comfortable - never to leave you bored or feeling unwanted. Unfortunately, someone else decided for you that visiting was no longer to be.
Hanta had a renewed interest in you just as you were starting to get comfortable within the God of Sleep’s domain; monopolizing your time more and more, almost unbearably so, with his presence and touch. As if he was making up for lost time, doing his best to renew the interest he once captured so easily. Though he claimed otherwise, you knew that his actions were simply made from jealousy; he wanted you to be his pet, whom he called upon at any moment, to give your utter devotion to. Now your devotion seemed to be turned elsewhere, and his pride simply could not have it.
He couldn’t keep hold of you at all times; duties had to be done, and other men and women needed to be blessed by his presence and touch. Only then were you able to slip away from his hold to visit the Underworld. Though every time you entered, you felt more and more ashamed of who you were, about the marks that were left upon your skin, and the reasons you could not see Hitoshi more frequently. Embarrassment always filled your being when you felt the Sleep God’s eyes upon you, taking in your dishevelled and messy form, knowing you were a sore sight to see; and you could never find the strength to confide in him as to the reasons why.
You simply wished to forget all that transpired while away, even if for a moment.
That moment of levity would simply be that; a moment. For once you returned to the clouds above, Hanta would be waiting for you; wings twitching in agitation as the scowl upon his beautiful face would cause you to shrink in fear. Anger, agitation, would fill his being at your deliberate disobeying of his rule to stay where you were until he was to return; dragging you to the bed you shared. Though you tried to plead with him that it wasn’t nearly anything his mind could conjure up, that he need not be so harsh with you, it never sunk into him - merely falling onto deaf ears. Despite protesting thus, he would bend you at the waist, pinning you to the silk sheets so you could not move, or fight him, before he would fill you with his cock; ignoring your squeals of pain as he stretched you completely. To slap his hand upon your skin until your skin was red and raw as he teethed marked you with the last mementos of his lovemaking. Actions never ceased until your voice became hoarse from the pleasured screams, and your body became limp with his marks of strength; making it clear to any gods nearby that you were his.
After which, the vicious cycle would continue.
Moreover, to add insult to the injury you were currently plagued with, you could not find a sense of slumber; a moment of rest and the peace that paired with it. Oh, how you wished you did, you wished for a moment of sanctuary from the torture you were in, and yet it never came. Always just slipping past your fingertips, like mist in a dense fog. Hanta and his insatiability, much like when he first claimed you for his own, took from your body and sense of strength and repose needed to even sit up. It left you ragged and begging to melt into the clouds that surrounded you; chanting silently to the God realms away to grant you what you desired most. A reprieve from this world, no matter how small it was to be. But once you felt it ebb at the corners of your consciousness, Hanta would ultimately rouse you to continue his ravishings.
The fair few times you could allow yourself to sink into the inky abyss of slumber, your being finally being so worn down it had no choice but to relent to it, the dreams within it would be far more cruel than the fate currently abusing you. Dreams so conniving and hurtful, of fears locked so far away, that you not help but wake with tears in your eyes; whimpering and wailing sobs into the vastness of the heavens around you. With your cries growing more intense when you found your only comfort against all this pain and suffering was Hanta and his touch; one that would ultimately lead to salacious things.
You began to resent him. His voice, his touch, his presence even remotely near you. You wished he had never caught sight of you, never gave you all those gifts, and most important of all, never brought you here to the heavens. As the days passed you felt stuck in an endless cycle of hell, one seemingly by his own hand. You were once so exuberant, full of life and wonder, and now you could feel yourself wasting away into nothing. No longer able to skip and frolic into fields of flowers or clouds, your body was too weak; barely even able to lift your arm to grab hold of anything. Your eyes, ones that were bright and filled with wonder as they looked upon the many majesties of the world, could barely be forced to open; a stinging pain would follow as any glimmer of light would cause you pain. And your head. Your poor head that would read and listen to the stories of old, now suffered from severe throbbing pain as your mind pulsed against your skull - trying to free itself from the prison it found itself in.
You could not escape it, nor Hanta - especially after he had taken the golden bell gifted to you as his own. Your life seemed to be regaled to misery as you lived every waking moment in pain. You wished that death could find you and turn you into an everlasting rose, then be subjected to spend more time with him; the cause of all the suffering.
Hanta could sense it all too. The indignation that filled your very being and thus cast forth onto him. He became less patient with you, his temper flaring considerably as he found your irritability insufferable; finding your whining and aversion to his help a scornful cross he felt he had not deserved, not after all he had done for you. The rage within him would burn even brighter whenever you would implore him to allow you to see the God of Sleep, to ask for his aid in the matter that had been plaguing you instead of him. Bitterness filled him over being replaced by a God lesser than him; for being a fool to allow you the freedom to visit that domain and become dependent on someone other than him.
“Hanta, please!” You wept, palms coming to press against your eyes to relieve some of the unbearable pressure behind them. “I cannot keep going like this. Can’t you see that I am in pain? That I am suffering?”
You removed your hands from your eyes, your feeble attempt to try and soothe the pain found in your body futile, having them fall into your lap in defeat. You looked over at him, back turned to you, as he tried to ignore your wails once more in favour of sharpening the many golden arrows he possessed.
“I thought you loved me!” You called out again, trying in vain once more to garner his attention, the declaration working as you saw his shoulders tense.
“I do love you.” Hanta began, turning to give a look of scorn when you tried to argue otherwise “But it is clear that your reliance on another God caused you this misery. If you stayed here, and allowed me to take care of you, you would not have found yourself in such a state.”
“Take care of me?” You huffed out a laugh in scorn, hands balling into fists over his claims “You left me here. Abandoned me once I no longer suited your fancy, with no food, drink, or company. Alone is a place where I did not belong! How could you blame me for wanting to be cared for!”
“You could have asked for more!” Hanta stood, his wings twitched as he did his best to control the fury bubbling within him “Have I not given you everything? Have I not provided you splendor that no other creature, mortal or otherwise, could have dreamed? Have I not carved out of the heavens a home for you? You are acting like a petulant child, one that has been so spoiled that they cannot find it within themselves to have an ounce of gratefulness or gratitude.”
You could not help yourself, could not fight the urge otherwise. How could he claim all those things about you, to compare you to a mollycoddled child, when he was the one that would abandon anything once he got bored. To pin the pain you are under as something of your own fault, and not bother to care about trying to lessen the burden.
“I hate you.”
The words slithered out in a vengeful hiss, marking them as true and honest as you looked away from him in scorn; finding yourself so disgusted by him that you wished not to acknowledge his presence. You had never said those words before, never been pushed to think that way of anyone, even the nymphs that casted you out. Yet, you felt the need to let that be known and you sat and seethed.
You did regret those words after you spoke them, finding a moment of levity as your mind cleared from the anger and pain it had been placed under. Though it was too late. A final straw had been broken, after weeks of being placed under the pressure of a bend, within Hanta.
He marched towards you, to where you sat so pitifully, to take hold of your arm; not bothering to care over the cry of pain he inflicted as he dragged you to your feet to follow him to the edge of the heavenly clouds that you called home. Bringing forth the golden bell from his tunic to hold it menacingly over the border that kept the Gods in the heavens, and the mortals within the earth.
“Apologize at once.” He demanded, tugging you even closer to him to cease your struggling against his hold “Say that you are sorry or I will drop it.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I had not meant to say! Please Hanta, believe me! I could never hate you! Don’t do this!” You begged, falling to your knees as you clung to his waist
But despite obeying, despite always doing what he said like the sweet-natured nymph you were, it did not matter. In a moment of vexation, a moment to showcase his power over you, Hanta still did not relent (as he always did to your cries) as his fingers let slip the golden bell. Allowing it to sink away for all eternity.
You collapsed in a heap, fingers digging deeply into the cloud below you, as you wept and sobbed; despite the pounding in your head telling you to stop, you couldn’t. Your one saving grace, the one thing that brought a semblance of happiness to you in this realm was gone. And with that revelation came the doubt that you would ever see your sister again nor get a decent night’s rest until the end of time - or until your ultimate banishment from here, whenever that mercy may come.
You couldn’t help but kick and scream when you felt Hanta’s arm wrap around you as he picked you up from the ground. Using the last morsels of strength within you to try and fight him off and away, for his touch was the last thing you ever wanted upon your skin.
But what was the strength of a nymph when compared to a God?
He laid you in bed, and though he tried to join you, to hold you close and whisper those sweet nothings in your ear as he knew you used to love, you kept pushing him away. Instead choosing to curl up into a tight ball and weep until sleep ultimately took your anguished form. All Hanta could do was watch as guilt gnawed at him - latching onto his soul like roots of a tree that took purchase into the earth - as he reaped what he had sown.
~
The anguish you felt is what finally caught Hitoshi’s attention towards you and your ever-growing plight, for it had seeped through into your dreams when your body finally tired out from all it had been fighting. He could sense your pain, your sorrow, the distress that filled every ounce of your soul; it caused his breathing to labor as he could not help but panic over what had transpired. He rushed to look into his orb of dreams to search for you and to understand what had transpired for your soul to give up and to become on the verge of death; something impossible for a creature like you to do within the heavens.
You were always surprising him, weren’t you?
He wanted to find a semblance of admiration over you achieving such a feat, but all he could find was fear over the thought of losing you. Your blurry appropriation finally came forth to him within the haze of smoke so familiar to him, blurred lines turned clear as he turned more of his attention towards you; and subsequently, the memory you had gripped so tightly to. That of your precious gift, your golden bell, being taken away from you.
Histoshi wasted not another moment. Summoning forth Tamaki with urgency, as he began to move through his labyrinth hurriedly; meeting the other god at the riverbed to his home. Tamaki could tell from the distressed look within the other God's eyes, that something was amiss.
“Go gather the nymph.” Hitoshi instructed, voice hardened with ice as he tried to keep his composure “And bring her back here to me, as swiftly as you can”
“Has something happened?” The meeker God questioned, worry gathering within his heart as his eyes scanned Hitoshi’s features.
“Go and get her.” Hitoshi reiterated voice hissing at the accidental stalling his friend was causing. “And do so swiftly! Though, be wary of that Love God, for he is watching over her.”
Without another word, or hesitancy otherwise, Tamaki nodded his head before hastily setting his vessel in motion. There was something wrong, for his oldest friend would not have treated him so coldly, would not be so fearful of a wasted moment. Something had happened to you, and Tamaki feared it was something awful.
Bravery was never something that came naturally to the ferryman, he was far too meek and worried of causing ire from his fellow brothers and sisters; especially those few that lived among him. He felt it course through him as he ascended to the heavens to retrieve you, determination settling within his heart as he made up his mind to bring you to the Underworld for good.
Tamaki was quiet when he approached your little piece of heaven; heading the advice to be wary to ensure a safe recovery of you. Though when he appeared, he found you surprisingly alone. You lay curled up like a baby bird in its nest upon your bed, but he knew it wouldn’t be for long. For the Love God was clearly only absent to gather your items of comfort, and with his powerful wings to swiftly guide him through the air, Tamaki knew it was only a matter of moments before he would return; there was no time to dawdle.
Gently he scooped you into his arms, taking note to cradle your weak head gently against his chest, as he carried you to his gondola. Setting you upon the bench you so eagerly used to sit upon, he allowed you to rest as he took you back down to the Underworld; to your new home.
~
You awoke, mind filled with a disorienting haze as you tried to recall how you ended up blessed enough to find slumber. To garner a restful enough sleep and avoid the terrors your mind could come up whenever you were in that realm. However, that wonderment of how you could have become so blessed after so agonizingly long was drowned out by confusion as your brows furrowed as it tried to comprehend what this odd weight upon your body was.
It was familiar to you, like an old friend, one soothing and reassuring. Yet at the same time, it did not feel like something you knew. The hand that stroked your hair, and scratched gently upon your scalp in a manner so gentle, was not one that you knew. The arm that held you so tightly to a broad, lithe, chest did not feel at all similar to the one you cuddled up against night after night.
It wasn’t familiar to you, thus you could only assume that you were no longer in the arms of Hanta, but rather someone else. Now that you were in this hold, you were afraid you could never go back to what you were used to. How you preferred the more tender hold of the arms that embraced you, how they held you with your comfort in mind, not to keep you trapped; a hold that you could not help sink deeper within. Finding the soft tunic a welcomed reprieve to warm and bare skin as you clung to it.
Though despite your wanting to sink back into the inky abyss that was the realm of slumber, your mind did not allow it; far too concerned with whoever was holding you. Though it felt nice, something about it still did feel right. Your brows furrowed more so together as you began to push against the embrace, your tired eyes burning as they opened to gain clarity of your situation.
A frightful gasp left your lips as you looked upon a familiar pair of violet eyes, those accompanied by the almost charming dark circles of deprivation. Despite your best efforts to pull away from him, knowing just how irate Hanta would be if he were to catch you with him in such a manner, Hitoshi kept you in place; his arm tightly digging into your sides to keep you against him.
“Hush, and be still little one,” Histoshi shushed you, hand moving from your hair to stroke upon your cheek in a manner meant to calm you further. “Your body is still destitute of slumber, it cannot handle your struggles.”
You relented, body falling more limp within his hold, though you fought the urge to fall back into his chest; wanting answers to the racing questions that ran through your mind as they managed to take precedence over your want of sleep.
“How…. how did I get here?” You finally asked, voice cracking and sore from your wails just hours prior, as you kept your gaze downcast. “From what I can recall, I needed the bell you gifted me to summon Tamaki; one of the few that knew how to get to you”
“As you know,” he began with a sigh, tugging at the ends of your hair in an effort to get your pretty eyes to gaze back at him; disappointed that you wouldn’t relent and do so, “I can feel all the anguish that the mortals are beholden to as they sleep, you are no exception. I felt all your pain and suffering, and I could sense that you were unable to escape the grasp of the Love God. So, I figured the only course of action to end your distress that I could provide was to gather you myself so you may get the rest you sorely needed.”
He watched as you buried the palms of your hands into your eyes gently, trying in vain to allow your muddled mind to come to terms and piece together what he had just said. After a moment of silence, he pulled your hands back down to rest in your lap.
“Are you alright now?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, as he watched you nod your head. Dissatisfied over your lack of response he placed his forefinger under your chin to force your head up to face him. “Are you sure?”
“Y-yes.”
Your meek response was good enough to appease him as he let go of your face to instead pull you closer within his hold; his hand once more moving your head to place it against the crevice between his neck and shoulder. Hand once more absently played with your hair as he continued to soothe and strived to relax your body.
“Sleep, little one,” he mumbled into your brow, “Stay as you need so you may regain all that you lost. I promise to look over you.”
Instead of gratitude, instead of your body falling heed to his request, he felt your body shake as you silently sobbed. You wished you could allow yourself such a sweet reprieve, but you knew better now. Once you garnered enough strength to walk, you would have to be taken back to the heavens once all this was over. If not by the God before you, then by the God you have surely angered and left in a cold bed. You felt Hitoshi move your body to sit upright, his hands resting upon your heated cheeks as he attempted to dry them from your ever-falling tears.
“Why are you upset, my darling one?” He asked, searching your eyes for a response, only to find you closing them and looking away.
“If I do stay, if I do as you ask of me and regain my strength and rest, it will not matter.” You blubbered, shaking your head to rid yourself of his grasp on your face.
“And why do you say that?”
“After I do, I will have to return back to Hanta. And I do not want to suffer the false hope that will befall me if I stay, for once I go back I will suffer as I had before. Sleepless and filled with horrid visions!”
Hitoshi did his best to hide the smile that was yearning to break free. He found he was grateful this one time that your glossy eyes would not look at him. Here you were, like a child, in his lap as you wept over the fear of another bad dream that may fall upon you again. It was clear your state of mind had been broken, that your resolve had been shattered, and now you were at the mercy of him and his plan; thus now he could finally strike.
“Who has declared that you must go back?” He whispered as he kissed the crown of your head to soothe you further. “You could just stay here with me, you will never have to worry about sleep and nightmares again. And your sister, I’m sure she missed you.”
With the mention of your sister, you finally looked up at him, your sobbing quieted down as you hiccuped your response. “Y-you w-would let me stay...?”
“I would.” He nodded his affirmation alongside his words, ensuring you would believe him. “And you may visit your sister as often as your heart desires, to wander the Underworld and beholden to their treasures whenever you please. You would just have to keep me company whenever I request it.”
“And Hanta? W-what of him?”
“You would never have to worry about being taken away from him if you did not want. Wherever silver mist gathers, especially within the archways of this domain, he cannot enter nor breakthrough. He may charge his way here, but he will never be allowed to enter my throne.”
You took a moment to gaze upon the familiar archway you had walked through countless times, watching as the silver smoke twirled languishingly amongst itself as if it had a mind of its own. It brought back the memory of when you first came here, how Hanta pushed you to make the journey to the God of Sleep alone. It was not done to test your bravery, but rather for the reason Hitoshi claimed; he was not welcomed here and therefore could not follow you.
It all made sense why Hanata hated that you would visit Hitoshi, for he could not keep an eye on you. He could not control you and whatever you did while here.
Now you were presented with an offer. A tempting one that promised you everything you had been deprived of while you were up in the heavens; to be taken care of fully. To be able to enjoy the spoils found here, to sleep, and to see your sister. Your exhausted mind could not help but agree that his terms and conditions to be his companion within the Underworld was a far better offer than what you were granted within the Heavens.
“I’ll stay…” You murmured out, as you allowed your body to fall limp into his arms in acceptance. “...I’ll stay.”
“Good, now rest little one, you are safe now.”
Hitoshi was unable to cease holding back the triumphant smile that wished to come forth, relenting to it as it spread across his beautiful face in an almost sinister manner before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. He had won, and now he was hoping to reap the rewards he waited so patiently for; grinning more widely as he heard a whine slip passed your lips, the sound going straight to his cock as he shifted you within his lap.
“What is the matter now?” He muttered into your brow, pressing another kiss there as he watched you squirm.
“I can’t sleep...!” You murmured out, clearly exasperated over your mind telling you of desires that you wanted while your body continued to betray you.
“Never fear of things such as that my darling.” His kiss slowly descended down your face before they paused at your lips; brushing against them in a manner much like a butterfly’s kiss. “I can help you, you need only ask me to do so.”
“Please help me Hitoshi…” You breathed out as you clung to his tunic once more.
He knew you were ready to plead further to him, he could hear the hitch in your voice as you made an attempt to do so. But he could not wait any longer, not after all the work he placed into his efforts, nor after hearing you consent to him; even if he desired to hear you beg for him further. His lips pressed against you in a kiss he has waited far too long to enjoy.
But greed swiftly appeared and possessed him, taking his kisses from sweet and small - tiny pecks to showcase his love and adoration for you - to ones more consuming as he melded your lips into his; not caring about breathing more so the want to feel your lips against his. His hand came to hold your jaw in place, craning your neck upward so that he may deepen the kiss to his desire.
It was not harsh, nor hurried, as one would expect from being consumed by the throws of passion and lust; especially the kind that had been suppressed for so long. Hitoshi could not recall in most recent memory, or memory long passed, ever having a lover by his side. And now that he had you, now that he finally had you here, he wished to engulf you completely and enjoy what the Gods above have denied him.
His motions were languid as he continued to hold your lips against his, he relished in how pillowy they felt as he continued to suck and smack upon them; not bothering to care of your whimpers of discomfort over how lewd the sounds had become, or how the mixture of saliva would drip down your chin. He still refused to relent as he found himself possessed over you and this feeling of domination. He slipped forth his tongue into your pliant and sweet mouth; how he delighted in the way your strength left you and caused you to go limp within his hold.
With the knowledge that you would not fight against him further, rather allowing yourself to succumb to him and his desires instead, his hands began to roam your body; no longer afraid of angering you and your possible attempts to fight otherwise.
You couldn't say that you did not enjoy it.
The unhurried, leisurely manner in which Hitoshi was making love to you was a far cry from the throws of quickened and almost brutal passion that you had grown used to. Such a contrast made your head dizzy and lightheaded as you allowed the God before you to do as he pleased; yet uncertainty filled the distant corners of your mind, how the ebbed and flowed almost as a warning bell, as you wondered if your body was going pliant to his advances due to your own building want or if he somehow placed you in a dream-like trance.
Regardless, you still found yourself in bliss as your hands began to roam themselves; how they gripped and tugged at his tunic as you allowed your voice to be heard. The small noise of pleasure did nothing more than spur Hitoshi on as his lips began to drag from your own and down to your jaw. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you heard his groan of delight when your hands found purchase underneath his tunic. The contrast of your warm hands against his cool and bare chest was a wondrous thing, one that made the both of you flush deeper in heat.
Though, after a while, it was not enough. Your mind still pounded against your skull, a brutal reminder that you needed slumber, and despite Hitoshi’s claims that he could bring that forth to you, he had so far made ill on that promise.
“Hitoshi…” You whimpered out, voice strained as you found it difficult to even speak in your current state.
“Yes, my darling?” Hitoshi mumbled into the skin just below your jaw as he placed a kiss there to try and encourage you to speak more.
It did not work, all he was met with was your continuous stream of discomforted whimpers; the way your brows pinched and furrowed in displeasure was a clear sign to him that he must move faster if he wished to come true with his promise and grant you the sleep you requested.
He tugged at your dress, being mindful of how precious the silk must be for you and thus not wanting to ruin it. Using a tender hand to glide the fabric of your sleeves down your arms to your wrists to allow the material of your bodice to slip under your ribs; effectively it released your breasts and allowed him to gaze in hunger at your chest; his cock stirring as he watched your nipples harden when greeted with the cold air of his home.
He wasted no time, like a man possessed, to trail his lips over your newly exposed, supple flesh. The softness he found caused his cock to twitch harshly as he took the time to kiss up and down the valley between your breasts, as he inhaled the scent of your skin; committing it to memory should he never have the chance to have you like this once more. His dexterous hands began to roll and squeeze at your mounds, biting his lip as he watched the flesh shake in a tantalizing manner before he slipped one of your hardened nipples into his awaiting mouth; his tongue circling around it as he sucked gently upon it.
Hitoshi wanted nothing more than to garner more noises of pleasure from you as he absently rocked his hips against yours, and groaned into your skin. His other hand undertook the task to play with your skirts, to work in a quickened manner while you were too preoccupied from his mouth to question him as he dragged them up and over your hips so he may have access to your most sacred place; your sweet cunt.
His teeth, though blunt, left a stinging pain in their wake as he marred and nipped at your supple flesh. It caused your eyes to shoot open as you looked down upon him, his lavender eyes were filled with a lustful haze as they connected with yours; it made your body shudder in his hold as you whined at his cruel action. You could feel him smile upon your skin as he laved over your newly found mark with his tongue.
“Stay awake for just a little longer, my darling,” he cooed, nipping at your skin once more to hear you call out his name in that adorable whine he was starting to love. “That’s it, look at me, keep your eyes open and on me, alright?”
“I-it hurts…!” You jerked your body away from his pinching teeth, your mewl of displeasure following suit.
“Keep looking at me, and do not fall into the grips of dozing.” Hitoshi muttered, pressing a few kisses over the red marks he had given you. “And I promise you that it shall not hurt anymore.”
His deft fingers found your cunt, spreading your folds open so he may be able to gently pet and coax out further pleasure from your body; to showcase to you that he meant as he said. His middle finger explored, dipping briefly into your leaking entrance, before slowly stroking your little bundle of nerves; groaning at how violently your hips bucked over his slow and deliberate act, how they seemed to follow his hand, greedy for more of his sinful touch.
Despite his desires otherwise, how he wished to rub harshly upon your puffy clit to hear you wail and cry out for him as you became overwhelmed with ecstasy, he knew you were not restive enough for such a thing. As well, he wanted nothing more than to see your pretty eyes, half-lidded with lust for him, to stay focused upon him.
He continued his tortuous petting, whispering his fingertips upon your clit but never pressed down before they swiftly moved to poke at your fluttering hole; all the while he smirked into your chest as heard your panting breath. A guttural groan left his parted lips as he finally relented and sunk a finger into you; relishing in your keen of pleasure as your hand came to tug upon his wild mane of violet locks.
You pulled him closer once he breached your weeping cunt, mewling quietly in delight at his skillful and gently petting; though you found that it wasn’t enough. The burning ache of need deep within your core was calling out for release, it heightened the pining to find slumber, as your hips moved against his hand in urgency for him to grant you something more. Your fingernails dug into the skin of his chest and dragged them down toward his hips; it left an angry trail of red in their wake, as your other hand tugged harshly on his mane once more. Calling out his name in a prolonged whine of frustration, not caring over this hiss of pain that sucked through his teeth.
“Getting impatient, are we?” Hitoshi growled, nipping at your neck to feel your yelp beneath his tongue.
“Y-you promised!” You wailed, hands moved to grip his shoulders as you felt his fingers spread within you.
“To not hurt you, indeed I did.” Hitoshi teased, leaning his head back to enjoy the blissful looks upon your face. “Do you not feel good, darling?”
“N-no!” You shook your head before you cried out his name, unable to finish your thought before being lost to the pleasure he brought forth.
“No?” He teased, slowing his fingers until they barely moved within you, chuckling at your bucking hips as you attempted to gain back the stimulation you craved. “Well, my darling, your body is telling me something different.”
If you were more awake, you would feel the heat of embarrassment taking over the flush of desire upon your skin, though at the moment you could not seem to care about decency; your desire to follow through and ultimately find and form of reprieve to your aching body.
“No, you promised to guide me to sleep.” You stuttered out, finally being able to find your voice now that his actions upon your body subsided. “And you’re prolonging that now.”
Hitoshi hummed, stifling another laugh over your petulant state, as his lips kissed upwards your neck and jaw before meeting their intended destination; kissing you languidly like before to placate your rigid state.
“Apologies,” he murmured, breath mingled with yours as he allowed you a chance to catch it. “I was merely just preparing you appropriately so you take my cock with ease. Though you are right; you have waited long enough.”
You squirmed at his words, finding a sense of awkwardness in how crude yet honest, not something you were yet used to from him, as you gripped tightly to the fabric at his shoulders when you felt his fingers leave your cunt; kissing your teeth in a quiet hiss as you feel yourself tighten around nothing.
“Go on now,” Hitoshi whispered, leaning so his back may sit flush against his silver throne, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If you so wish for relief so badly then you may take my cock out to have it.”
He admired the way you so timidly nodded your head at his request before your hands, one filled with trepidation, shook as they lowered to where they needed to be. He felt how gingerly you worked as you adjusted and shifted his robes to unbound his hardened member; he groaned in relief once he felt you delicately free his leaking cock.
If you were not so in need of him at the moment, he would ask you to stroke him; to pump your hand up and down his length until he guided you toward his own euphoria. He supposed he now had more than enough time for such salaciousness at a later date. Instead, he grabbed your waist as he pulled you to sit higher, hovering you over him as he properly aligned himself against your heated core.
Slowly, agonizingly so, he guided your hips downward to impale yourself on him; pressing his lips to yours to shush the aching whimpers that tumbled forth as you felt yourself being stretched to your limit by him; and though you had experience with Hanta, his cock was far thicker than you were ever used to. Hitoshi muttered your praises, telling you of how well you were doing as he slowly filled you full of him.
“You’re doing so well.” He groaned out, teeth gritted as his jaw clamped tightly shut as he did his best not to spill his load into you before he barely had begun to have his fun. “You’re so close, almost there my darling.”
He could tell why Hanta was so fond of you, so unwilling to let you venture off on your own and out of his sight. Your cunt was truly heavenly as it swallowed his cock greedily, already spasming and milking him for what he was worth. He let out a strangled breath, a mixture of a moan and a sigh, once you were fully seated; taking note of your discomfort once more, he rocked your hips back and forth in a lazy, slow, manner until your brows became unpinched and your huffs turned to sighs of pleasure.
“That’s it, good girl…” He sighed out once you took control and swayed your hips on your own, hands glided to your waist to help lift your hips to bounce upward upon him; showcasing to you the gentle rhythm he wanted you to ride him.
“L-like this?” You asked, as you placed your hands in a more steady position upon his chest as you rolled your hips to glide him in and out of your heat; moaning alongside him when you hit a particularly tender spot within you.
“Fuck yes.” He groaned as he threw his head back for but a moment to relish fully in the euphoric feeling of your tight, dripping, hole.
His hands began to wander again as the slow and unhurried lovemaking progressed. Fingertips took hold and dug into your supple flesh anywhere he could, from the plush of your beautiful thighs, to pinching at your waist, to massaging and groping your breasts. Hitoshi had to distract himself from his more primal urges, to find a use for his body to ensure that his hips didn’t snap up into you. For he was aware of what your exhausted body needed, and that was not being rough.
You cried out sharply when you felt his hand make swift contact with your backside, your supple cheek radiating heat from the pain, as your eyes snapped back onto him; tears formed in your lashes as you blubbered out “what did I do wrong?”
Hitoshi did feel a little guilty, your sad eyes were not something he wished to see, but it was a far better cry than how they drooped just moments prior. His fingers brushed over the sore flesh, as he pressed more soft kisses to your jaw as a way of an apology; taking hold of it, in his other hand, after the peppering of affection
“Look at me, my flower.” He whispered, brows furrowing as he felt you tighten around him. “I need you to look at me, alright?”
You nodded in affirmation to his request with a sniffle, tears still formed upon your lash as you continued to rock your hips against his own; the pleasure overwhelmed you as repeatedly hit the small spongy button within you that made you feel dizzy. Matched that with the fabric of his tunic that caught your clit every time you moved made stars dance across your eyes. It caused you to ascend to your release far quicker than you ever thought possible, as your mewls and babbles of “more” filled the air.
He could tell you were close, given how your walls clamped sporadically around him while you gushed and leaked down onto his thighs. His quiet moans of pleasure melded with your own as he hugged your body tightly against his, as his hips bucked into your own; taking control over you in that primal manner he wished to suppress but could not any longer.
His grip tightened the harsher his hips snapped into you, his heavy cock bullying its way into you to perpetually hit that special spot that made you breathless and squirm within his hold. He was so close to letting go, but he could not do so before you, for he wished for nothing more than to feel your sweet cunt around him as you came.
Your eyes shut tightly as your body seized and gave into the surmounting pleasure and pressure in your core. You wailed out, as those waves crashed into you over and over; your eyes rolled back into your skull as white danced across your vision before you felt yourself go limp against him.
Hitoshi felt your breath against his nape as he held your shaking body against him as he continued to chase his own high. He could tell you were doing your best to stay awake, but how could you? After all, you had climbed a mountain of pleasure before jumping down from it, not even the most powerful of Gods could sway from exhaustion from something such as that.
Yet, despite being stuck between the realm of awake and napping, he could still feel your warm walls clenching in response to his bucking hips. With the knowledge that despite you not being awake you were still reacting to him, your body still obeyed him in some fashion, causing his teeth to clench as he hissed out a final breath before he spilled inside you; filling your pussy completely with his cum.
Hitoshi took a moment to hold your body flush against him as clambered down from his high; placing kisses upon your brow and temple in a prolonged manner to showcase to you his appreciation. He shifted your body to lay more comfortably against his chest once the mood suited him, staying buried deep inside you to ensure that when you woke you would still be filled with his cum, as his hands ran up and down your tired body in a soothing and loving manner.
“There’s a good little flower,” Hitoshi muttered into your hair, pressing a final kiss to your crown, as he pulled you higher in his hold as he admired your sleeping form. “I’ll take much better care of you than he ever will.”
stay tuned for more~
#stay tuned for as there is one more part to this story~#shinso x reader#hitoshi shinsou x reader#shinsou hitoshi x reader#hitoshi shinso x reader#shinso hitoshi#shinsou x reader smut#shinso smut#mha x reader#mha fanfic#my hero academia#bnha x reader#bnha fanfic#boku no hero academia#hitoshi shinsou x reader smut#shinsou x reader#🔮.the peddler brews#🔮.potion for shinso
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I finally found the motivation and inspiration to write chapter 3 of my ghost!Shinsou x reader fic “Until death brings us together” !
It’s been almost 3 months of hiatus, but I’ll finally update it tomorrow after proofreading it!
#mha fanfiction#hitoshi shinsou#shinsou x reader#shinsou x y/n#mha x reader#mha self insert#shinsou fanfic#Hydrangeawrites
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A fanart cover of the fanfic 'To Cross the Line' by JustaPerson1
It's a great story, really loved it!
Here's the link to the fic if you want to read it:
https://href.li/?https://archiveofourown.org/works/33805213
#deku#midoriya izuku#izuku midoriya#all might#yagi toshinori#uraraka ochako#hitoshi shinsou#katsuki bakugou#inko midoriya#shigaraki tomura#naomasa tsukauchi#villain deku#villain au#bnha#mha#bnha fanart#fanart#fanfic fanart#digital art#ibispaint#proud of this#took was to long to finish though..#i might make more art for this fic#if i have time#:D
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