#pierced!shinso

[nekoo3001]

Shinso's birthday! I was drawing something else but didn’t have time to finish it so I’m posting this one

[seneon]

IDK WHERE THIS TALENT HAS COME FROM BUT LAWDDDD 😞😞😞

timeskip shinso’s long hair won’t leave my mind

brah i was just thinking about timeskip shinso HAHHAHA

[animehideout]

Masterlist Update.

⚠️ A/N: For those who are interested in Wattpad kpop / Anime Long Stories, You can check my Wattpad " narae_99 " . Complete Mafia Au ( Bangchan x Reader) , Enemies to Lovers Au (Leeknow x Reader)

Jujutsu Kaisen

♡⁠˖Headcanons & Reactions˖⁠♡

• JJK Men Green and Red flags ↓

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV

• JJK Men And Their Fav Place To Do It 🔞

• JJK Men Turn-ons.

• JJK Men Kinks.

• JJK Men And Their Types Of Hugs.

• JJK Men When They Want Your Attention.

• How Would JJK Men Dress Up For Your Date

• JJK Men Pet Names For You.

• JJK Men Pick Up Lines.

• JJK Men And How They Act When They're In The Mood 🔞

• JJK Men Fav Positions 🔞

• JJK Men Soft Moments With You 🤍

• JJK Men When You Kiss Them Unexpectedly In Public 🩷

• What Songs Would JJK Men Play In BG While Doing It

• JJK Men And Things They Would Say 🔞

• Jobs JJK Men Would Have In Real Life (imo) → Part I Part II

• Types Of Kisses.

• JJK Men As Types Of Love

• Love Troops Suitable For JJK Men → Part 1 Part 2

• Teasing Toji Fushiguro

• JJK Men x Plus Size Fem¡ reader.{Requested}

• Gamer Gf Ignores JJK Men . {Requested}

• JJK X HAIKYUU MEN X READER Locked In A Room ( fluff 🍭)

• Insecure Reader X JJK Men Finding Out { Requested }

• Your MBTI, Your Relationship With JJK Characters 🆕 ALL PARTS

• JJK Men X Male¡ Reader First Kiss

• JJK Men And Types Of Women They'd Be Attracted To {Requested}

• JJK Men Perfect First Date → PART 1 PART2 PART3( coming soon..) 🆕💙

• JJK Men Period Comfort 🌸 {Requested}

• SFW Alphabets For Gojo Satoru {Requested}

• Comfort Letters From JJK Men→ Gojo.Ver

• JJK Men Proposing With A Ringpop {Requested}

• JJK Men Comforting Their S/O Who's Doubting Themselves {Requested} fluff 🍰

• JJK Men Turn-Offs {Requested}

• JJK Men Reaction To Y/N With A Tongue Piercing {Requested}

• Toji Fushiguro x INTJ { Requested }

• NSFW alphabets Gojo Satoru 🔞 {Requested}

♡⁠˖Series & Oneshots˖⁠♡

Gojo Satoru:

• Birthday Oneshot

• Love Is The Most Twisted Curse Of All [Arranged Marriage ff]: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8

• My one and only [ Requested]

• Gojo Satoru X Dumb But Kind Reader {Requested}

• Gojo Satoru X ENTP f!reader {Requested}

Ryomen Sukuna :

• A Deal Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 Part 6 🔞⚠️

• Somnophilia [Requested] 🔞

• For Eternity (Sukuna x fem! sorcerer reader, reincarnated ver) [Requested]

Geto Suguru:

• Insecure Reader X Suguru Geto ( Angst with happy ending)

Choso Kamo:

• Battle with Choso, Fluff {Requested}

Tokyo Revengers

♡⁠˖Headcanons & Oneshots˖⁠♡

• How They Tease You For Fun.

• When You're On Your Period.

• Yandere Mikey + Yandere Kazutora ( Requested).

• When You Have A Nightmare.

• Their Fav Place To Kiss You.

• Taking Care Of Sick S/O ( Requested).

• Soft Moments With You.

• Jealous Baji Keisuke With Naive s/o ( Requested )

• First Date Part I

• First Date Part II

• When Someone Flirts With Shy S/O ( Requested).

• Reaction To S/O Similar To Nezuko ( Requested ).

• Tokyo Revengers Men Jealousy.

♡⁠˖Series & Oneshots˖⁠♡

Baji Keisuke:

My Reason ( s/o stops Baji from killing himself [Requested] )

Draken:

Toman's Little Fighter ( Fluff - Angst - Happy Ending )

Takemichi :

( Discovering S/O is a gang leader [Requested]).

Haikyuu:

♡⁠˖Headcanons & Reactions˖⁠♡

• Green And Red Flags ↓

Part I / Part II / Part III

• How They Show Affection.

• When They Realize They Have Feelings For You.

• How Would Haikyuu Men Dress Up For Your Date.

• Haikyuu Boys x fem! volleyball player 🆕✨

My Hero Academia:

♡⁠˖Headcanons & Reactions˖⁠♡

• Types Of Kisses.

• Reader Wants Cuddles.

• Night Routine With BNHA Men.

• First Kiss With BNHA men.

• Finding Out They're Gonna Have A Baby ( requested ).

• Shinso Hitoshi ( falling asleep together [Requested]).

• Asking About Tampons ( Requested ).

♡⁠˖Series & Oneshots˖⁠♡

Cursed Touch { Bakugo Katsuki x Dabi x Reader} ↓

• Whole story + Angst Ending

• Happy Ending.

Attack On Titan

Relationship Headcanonsﾉ⁠♡

Eren

Levi

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

That’s Not My Neighbor (1) | Yandere Bnha

“I’m sure you didn’t have a nose piercing the last time I spoke with you, Mister Kirishima. Besides you're not on today's list.”

“Wait it’s not what you think please–”

“Sorry.” 

As apathetic as your reasoning you clicked the button and began to dial the D.D.D. It didn’t matter that there was frantic and harsh banging against the closed metal doors. All that did matter was that the shouts and struggles of D.D.D agents were quieting down. The metallic door came up to show the mysterious build of the building’s agent. 

“The cleaning protocol is completed. You may continue your job.”

“Thank you.”

You look down to reorganize and once over the documents you had; stopping when you find the agent still standing in front of your window, gas mask, and all. 

“Do you need something?”

Instead of apologizing or defending themselves they simply stood there. Rolling your eyes you put the documents down, sending a light glare. They were in the way of possible residents. Which means wasting time on your shift. 

It was three minutes before a voice crackled again. 

“You—took up more shifts.”

Resisting the urge to sneer you took to restacking your papers while you answered. 

“I did. Is there a problem?”

“I thought the other guy would be here at this time.”

Refusing to hide your anger this time you slammed your papers down as you leaned back in the chair.

“On the books he is but he had an emergency so I’m filling in, my shift is next anyway.”

“...Are you getting paid for this?”

So that was why…You sighed, no longer scrunching your eyebrows. Flashing a small smile you straightened your posture.

“He owes me a favor and lunch; so I’ll be okay.”

They stood a little while longer before bowing their head and making their way out of the building. You wondered if this meant one of you was going to get fired. Pushing that aside you continued to look ahead waiting for the next possible resident to walk through.

Your gaze was so fixed on the window you failed to hear the squeaking of the door of your office and the steps behind your back. Only squealing when your chair suddenly twirled around to reveal an intruder.

“HIya (Y/n)!”

“Eeep!”

“Don’t get so nervous just wanted to stop by!”

It was Denki Kaminari,  resident in F2-03 shared with Hitoshi Shinso, piercings on his ears, yellow hair with a black stripe, and an occasionally derpy look on his face. His current employment is as a private electrician, which means he’s often called out for emergencies and may not always be on the list. 

Which he isn’t because he’s got the day off. 

“Sir Kaminari please don’t surprise me like that. I am working.”

“Sir?! Ouch, (Y/n) you wound me!”

He fakes a shot to the heart wobbling around before dramatically falling onto the floor.

“It’s not healthy to take a job as dangerous as harshly as you do. You know all the residents have countermeasures.” 

It’s Shinso Hitoshi, a private detective, and D.D.D reporter, with crazy purple hair and eyes with bags under them, and a hanging earring on his left ear. He also isn’t on the list today. Figures, his work is sporadic and Shinso is an insomniac homebody. 

“Yes, but my job is meant so that you won’t have to use them. I must stay vigilant against Doppelgangers.”

He sighs and scratches at his unruly head. He kicks his partner who is still playing dead on the floor. Kaminari stands up swiftly to once again invade your space as you fail to scoot your chair away. 

“So have you eaten today?”

You pushed him away, turning to your window once again, scanning the perimeter before speaking over your shoulder. 

“I keep myself hydrated when I’m working.”

Shinso sucked his teeth, coming to your right side as he glances at the files you’ve neatly organized. Kaminari follows his lead going on the opposite side to poke at your phone and the list. You swatted his hands away.

“That doesn’t sound like an answer.”

You sighed, “Relax. My coworker promised to give me lunch as compensation for taking his shift.”

What should have soothed their worries instead made them more upset. Both of them glaring at you. 

“If he’s going to give you lunch but you're taking his shift today, that means you’re not eating lunch today.”

“Yeah..what he said!”

You sighed again standing from the chair to turn the both of them away. Putting your foot down–you cross your arms and look at them with your customer-service smile,” As an extension of D.D.D I’m tasked with not only guarding the door from doppelgangers but protecting my health. 

Kaminari was making that infamous dumb face and Shinso was just about mirroring him.” 

Nonetheless, you continued,” It’s important to the D.D.D that their door people are in their best working conditions and I am paid handsomely to do that. “

Shinso was the first to try to speak narrowing his eyes as though he was questioning the validity of the statement. 

“Wait, hold on–”

But you continued, “If you have any complaints, please call the non-emergency number if you’d like to make a complaint.”

As if timed perfectly a knocking at the glass had you hurriedly hopping and turning in your chair to look through the window. Looking more exhausted than Hitoshi was what looked like the teacher Aizawa Shouta, who was glaring at the couple past your head. 

“I’m about to file a complaint if you don’t check my ID and Entry request.”

“Sorry sir. Right away sir.”

Nothing was out of line, everything matched and thus you let him in. A passing glance at the reflection behind you showed both of them sporting an annoyed grimace. Sending a side–eye to the grumpy teacher their gazes were still fixed on you. 

“(Y/n) if you’re the only one working you need to take an appropriate break.”

“I already said–”

“No (Y/n) whether the D.D.D okays it or not this isn’t healthy.”

Hitoshi’s interruption was a lot harsher than his usual speech, the kind you imagined he used when speaking to captured doppelgangers. It made your skin crawl and the hairs on your arms stand up. 

Feeling the heat of someone’s breath on your neck, you hadn’t noticed Kaminari closing the gap between you two. You wanted to turn but you could feel his arms cross over the arms of the chair trapping you in your seat and leaving you far too close to look him in the eye. 

“I think as concerned neighbors we ought to intervene. What do you say Hito?”

“Guys I haven’t been working that long really–”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Taking advantage of the wheels on your chair Kaminari pulled you away from the desk, holding you in your chair to the doorway leading to the apartments. Hitoshi made quick work of your station closing everything locking the doors and closing the office window slot. 

“But there’s only one more for my shift please—at least let them in!”

At your behest, Hitoshi rolled his eyes looking at the list of expected tenants before scowling at the one uncrossed name on the list. 

“I honestly think having a doppelganger is better than him.”

You wanted to protest but Kaminari quite easily tossed you over his shoulder as he skipped down the hall. Watch from your bobbing perspective as Hitoshi easily locks up your office with your backpack in hand. How did he know where the key is?

Trying to speak up, you were shaken by Kaminari trying to get your attention with his smile as though he wasn’t abducting you. 

“So what should we have for lunch (Y/n)? Beans and Rice? Meatballs? Katsudon?”

“Come on (Y/n). He’s not going to stop until you say what you’re going to eat.”

[angeliicheartt]

I’m in my bnha phase 😼

I need a whole ton of kisses with hitoshi if that’s okay! Do whatever you want ❤️

ꜱᴋɪɴ-ᴛᴏ-ꜱᴋɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ!

includes: hitoshi shinso

gn!reader

a/n: icl i thought of will and kyra from love island usa season 3 while writing this whole thing, a lil suggestive..

hitoshi's lavender eyes pierce yours as he looks down at you. the two of you are entangled on his dorm room bed, each of you on your sides facing one another. hitoshi looks down at you, watching your expression as he gently plays with a strand of your hair, admiring you. he moves a section of hair away from your face, his cool demeanor not matching the warmth in his eyes.

“you are so beautiful,” he murmurs as he gazes at you, tracing your face with his large hand, his gaze full of affection. you roll your eyes as you look to the side, avoiding his keen gaze as he watches each of your features move in tandem with one another. your lips quirk up as he moves over you, his forearms resting against the mattress as you settle onto your back.

he chuckles softly at your eye-rolling, his arms framing either side of you, his face dipping lower as he gazes down at you.

“you're so stubborn.. you know that, right?” he teases, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“yeah yeah,” you comment, your eyes finding their way back to hitoshi’s as his eyes lock onto yours. you feel his knuckle begin to trace shapes into the skin of your torso. you let his knuckles turn over and allow his palms to ghost along the exposed skin of your stomach, his large, cool hands causing goosebumps to form, his smirk growing wider as he continues to stare unblinkingly at you.

“and a smartass, too.” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper as his knuckles glide over your ribs.

“yeah… but you love it,” you cheekily mutter, the corners of your lips quirking up as he laughs softly, his eyes shutting in bliss. eventually, his eyelids do flutter open, the corners of his lips curling into a soft smile as he looks down at you, his hand still tracing over your skin.

“you're right. i do.” he murmurs, his tone affectionate as he gazes at you fondly, his body shifting on top of you as he moves closer, his straight nose brushing yours as his palms find their way up to your ribs. 

he places a feather light kiss on your lips, then another, and another, getting more and more languid and sweet. almost syrup-like.

you feel him shift as he angles his shoulder to support his upper body as his other hand trails to your waist, his fingertips ghosting the hem of your shirt. his lips continue their abuse on yours, the boy parting to breathe every few minutes as he quickly wears your lungs out. 

“toshi..” you breathe out, his violet eyes fluttering open at your voice.

“mhm?” he hums lowly, his throat gravelly from the late time of day. his arm settles back against your side, his hands however continue to explore the expanse of your skin. your hand moves to settle in hitoshi’s hair, your fingers tangling themselves with his lilac locks.

“i love you,” you murmur, your lips quirking as hitoshi smiles softly.

“yeah?” he asks, his faint dimples popping out as he leans forward, burying his face in your neck. “i love you too.”

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @satelitis @whenanafallsinlove @kozumesphone

[blakeswritingimagines]

First Thing He Noticed About You

Izuku Midoriya: Everything. Every time he looks at you, he notices a new detail that he hadn’t seen before. A new shade in your eyes, the way the light hits your skin, a new expression or emotion that crosses your face. It’s endlessly fascinating, and he can’t get enough.

Katsuki Bakugo: He was immediately drawn to your intense, piercing eyes that seemed to bore right into his soul. You have a way about you that radiates strength and power and you carried yourself with such confidence and certainty that it was easy to see why people were drawn to you. He was intrigued by your sense of self, and your ability to command respect without having to try.

Shoto Todoroki: He was immediately intrigued by your sense of fashion, and your dark sense of humor made him laugh on more than one occasion. He finds you as a fascinating person to talk to, and your conversations always leave him feeling enlightened and educated about something new.

Tenya Ida: He saw you across a room, he was immediately struck by your beauty. He found it strange that he could see it all in an instant - your intelligence, your sense of humor, your capacity for kindness. He finds you to be extraordinary. And the first time you spoke, he felt as though you had known each other for centuries.

Fumikage Tokoyami: The first thing he had noticed about you was your bright and vibrant energy. Your presence immediately caught his attention and he was drawn in by your charisma and confidence.

Hitoshi Shinso: Your voice. How calm and smooth it was. How soothing you could be. The way you listened, truly listened even if Shinso took a while to open up about most things, even when you were not just waiting for your turn to speak. He could talk to you for hours.

Denki Kaminari: You always seemed willing to try new things and step out of your comfort zone, and he really admired that about you. You truly embrace the new and unexpected and seem to approach everything with curiosity and wonder.

Eijiro Kirishima: Your eyes also stood out the most to him--they were beautiful and expressive like no others he had ever seen. They were soulful and seemed to shine with an inner light like they were windows to your soul. He had never seen anyone like you before and knew in that instant that he wanted to get to know you better.

Mashirao Ojiro: He was intrigued by your creativity and intelligence, and your sense of humor immediately made him feel at ease. It was clear from the first time he met you that you were a special person with endless potential, and he wanted to get to know you on a deeper level.

Mirio Togata: He was immediately drawn to your sense of style and confidence. You seemed like someone who could take on any challenge with grace. Your determination and tenacity was evident from your early interactions and he appreciated that you always seemed to be looking for opportunities to connect with others and help out where you could. He saw a lot of himself in you and instantly felt drawn to you.

Tamaki Amajiki: Your voice, and your laughter, the little crinkles around your eyes when you smile, the way your teeth show when you smile, the way you're always so positive despite everything negative happening around you, there’s so much that he immediately noticed about you.

[sannasruins]

never enough

hitoshi shinso x reader

type: angst

warnings: abandonment/ghosting, disappointment, femmenine compliments but gn!reader

a/n: first post in 10 months, this is loosely based on a romance i had last year, it always sucks to be left behind, doesn't it?

word count: 2k

He left.

You weren’t enough for him, or maybe you were too much. You couldn’t help yourself though, it was adoration at first sight with his stark gaze and shockingly deep violet hair.

Maybe he never even liked you in the first place, because if he did, why would he do this?

It was a cold winter day when he approached you, frost creeped at the corner of windows, and small snowflakes drifted down from the dark grey sky. It was probably the coldest it had been that whole season.

Christmas was coming soon. In your college days that meant going out with friends and drinking parties, but now all your friends were dating or married, spending their day off with their loved one. Leaving you, a newly graduated office worker at a top 10 hero’s company, to come in on your day off so that you didn’t spend your night alone in a cold empty apartment.

That was where you first saw him, Hitoshi Shinso, in person at least. Of course you had heard of him, the brainwashing hero, the hero with a villain’s quirk.

You had seen him on TV, on newspapers, in magazines and on social media. Despite having only graduated 4 years prior and only recently advancing from sidekick to hero, he was rising through the hero ranks while being employed at another, bigger and more popular, hero’s company.

He had also come into the office on Christmas, though it wasn’t as sad when he did it, you thought to yourself, crime doesn’t stop for holidays. Your paperwork could have though.

Hitoshi noticed you when he walked into the small office space you occupied that you were occupying, making eye contact with you, before walking into the breakroom that was connected to the office.  You felt heat rise from your shoulders, up your neck and into your cheeks, and you knew that your face must be brightly flushed.

But how could you have helped yourself, when those piercing purple eyes looked right into you, past what felt like every boarder you had up, past every lie you told yourself, and saw you. You felt exposed, and bare, in a way that not even nakedness could compare to.

You rationalized to yourself as you see his figure retreat into the breakroom, the door closing behind him, that it was just all in your mind, he had just glanced at you, that was all. You still couldn’t help but feel your heated face, sighing and putting your face in your hands for a moment before focusing back on your computer and work.

You heard the door to the breakroom open and close again, signaling that he had exited, but you decided to not look up, because your face had just started to cool down from the last time he looked at you with his pretty pretty face and his pretty pretty eyes.

So, you were surprised when something, a chip bag, was plopped down onto your desk Infront of you, with a small jump, you looked up at and saw that Hitoshi Shinsou had just placed a bag of chips from the vending machine in the breakroom on your desk.

“Its cold,” he murmured, and his voice was like velvet and melted chocolate to your ears, sweet and smooth and everything you ever needed. He leaned on the desk opposite you, “the heat isn’t on today, no one was supposed to come in.” he explained further.

You looked at him with a question on your face, it was cold in the office, that’s why you were wearing your coat and scarf still, but it didn’t explain why he had come over and why he had put a bag of chips on your desk.

“Eating helps keep you warm, replenishes your energy.” He answered your unasked question.

You nodded; your ears hot with a blush you thought he could for sure see all over your face.

“Thank you,” you grabbed the bag from in front of you and put it in one of your desk drawers, “I appreciate it Mister Hitoshi.”

He nodded at you, a small smile graced his lips, before he pushed himself off the desk, and left the room, leaving you in a face splitting smile the second you heard the door close behind him.

You squeezed your eyes shut and told yourself to breathe, to calm down, it couldn’t have meant that much, that it didn’t mean that much. And that just because he was so beautiful, heroic and it seemed kind to boot, that you couldn’t get a crush on him, he was just being a nice person, right?

It seemed like Hitoshi Shinsou wanted nothing more than to have you not be rational though.

After that Christmas day where he gifted you a bag of chips in a cold office, he began to be the places you were more often. Smiling at you as you passed each other in the hallway, asking you how your day was going.

It slowly became more, he soon started seeking you out at your desk, talking to you on his breaks when he wasn’t on patrol, it didn’t really matter if you were working, it wasn’t his company but he was still your superior, so he could do as he saw fit. That didn’t stop your coworkers from starting to whisper though.

Hitoshi Shinso would notice things on your desk, knick-nacks or books, and surprisingly to you, he was a fan of some of those things as well, and it felt almost like fate to you. Your similar hobbies, your taste in music, your taste in coffee, it was all so close to his, how could it not be meant to be?

It didn’t take long after his desk visits started for him to get your phone number, and the two of you would call, only on his schedule though, he was the busy hero who had to work odd hours, so it wasn’t surprising and quickly became normal for you to be awoken at 3 am from a call by him, asking to talk. It wasn’t his fault you were tired in the mornings and it started to affect your work, you didn’t mind if it meant you could spend time with him.

You finally one day, after getting home from the office, worked up the courage to ask him if he would like to hang out on his next night off, maybe to go out to the movies, to dinner, anything would be fine with you, as long as he was there. And to your pleasant surprise, he agreed, but then told you he had tonight off, and to give him your address, he would be there in 30 minutes.

You panicked, this amazingly beautiful man who you thought was so out of your league was coming over to your apartment? In 30 minutes? You weren’t ready, you looked frazzled and tried after a long day working, and your apartment was messy. How could you make both yourself and your apartment presentable in that little of time?

You texted him back, “okay, that sounds great! I live at XXX, apartment number XXX :).”

You rushed to pretty yourself up, putting on nicer clothes in comparison to the office clothes that he has only ever seen you in, and quickly tried to tidy your apartment.

You were shoving clothes and boxes into a closet when you heard the doorbell ring, and with one last push you got them in and quickly closed the door behind it before it could all come tumbling back out onto you. With a quick brush of your palms down your clothes to smooth out any wrinkles from your outfit, you went to the door excitedly.

There he was, the tall man with tired eyes, and he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. His socks didn’t match.  It didn’t look like he was planning on going out with you tonight, but that’s okay, it wasn’t a date, you had asked him to hang out, not to go on a date, so its fine.

You invited him in, he complimented you.

“You look pretty tonight.” His voice was like honey and salve, soothing away all your mental pains, “you look really nice outside of those florescent office lights.”

He smiled at you, a dimple in one of his cheeks, and his tired eyes crinkled at the edges. Your heart melted. How could a man this perfect ever exist?

The two of you played board games that night, him beating you badly at all of them, all the while, smiling at you and telling you that you were lucky you were so pretty. You didn’t mind him insulting your intelligence like you would have when most people do it, all it did was make you bush and look down, because you were happy, he called you pretty.

He left that night with a parting hug, you had told him to get home safe and he thanked you for having you, and then pulled you into a hug. You were so startled you almost didn’t hug him back, but you gave him a quick squeeze before seeing him out the door and closing it behind him.

You were obsessed, he was all you could think about, your friends got tired over how often you would text them about him but you didn’t care because you were so happy that his attention was yours, that he had set his sights on you.

He came over to your apartment a few more times, and the two of you even started watching a tv show together, he had recommended it and told you he wanted to watch it with you.

He sat on your couch, and when you sat further away than where he wanted, he pulled you to him, and put his arm around your shoulder.  

He smelt like cigarettes and it made your nose scrunch but you tried to not let it bother you too much, he was perfect in literally every way, and he liked you, he liked you enough to call you, to flirt with you, to cuddle with you on your couch and watch a tv show together. You could deal with a little cigarette smell.

And you started to get hopeful, hopeful for something more, that maybe you could join your college friends and by next Christmas, not be spending it alone but be spending it with a rising hero, someone so amazing had made time for you, had noticed you, thought you were pretty, beautiful, desirable.

He kissed you good bye when he left that night, just a quick peck, but it had you on cloud nine for the entire next day.

As quickly as his attention came, it left.

At first you tried to tell yourself that he is a pro hero, that he is busy, that he doesn’t always have time to text you, to call you. But the spaces in between texts grew longer and longer, hours turned to days, and days to weeks.

You were watching him slip between your fingers and no matter what you said, no matter what invitations you made, or witty jokes you told, he simply was non-responsive.

You didn’t see him at work anymore either, besides occasionally seeing a glance of him in the first-floor entrance, he never came to your branch of the building anymore. Those glances hurt so bad, but you couldn’t help but look, he was still so perfect, and you don’t know what you did wrong, no matter how hard you wracked your brain for an answer.

Your friends told you he used you, or at least tried to. And the whispers at work didn’t stop for quite a while, poor you, not too long ago you were going around telling everyone about how much you like him and how sweet he is. How could you never notice that he didn’t talk about you the same way.

You weren’t enough, and you were too much.

He didn’t like you.

And he left.

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | monoma

Monoma’s route of soulmate trope.

“why did put your whole pussy into the chapter for the character no one wanted to read next???”

i want to make him pop in the microwave. next question

warnings: reader is a masochist but takes no shit. Monoma is explicitly a virgin, and it’s implied that reader is as well—but it isn’t definite. sexual material but not the actual act of penetration ("then what's the point?" delayed gratification, babey!!!). Fem reader.

~12k words

Monoma let out a scornful laugh so piercing and deliberate that it had no problem reaching your lunch table. “Fucking preposterous. Having a soulmate from Class 3-A would be so humiliating that I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, let alone you, Kendo.” His laughter grew louder, sounding a bit forced, but it would have to be in order for the whole lunchroom to hear it. “Unfortunately for you. Sucks to suck!”

 Jirou clicked her tongue and turned back to her sandwich, tapping you on the shoulder with a dangly earbud. “His dick must be tiny.”

 You snorted into your noodles and covered your mouth. “I don’t even wanna think about his dick or anything else about him,” you said, taking the napkin that Shinsou offered you, “He’s insufferable.”

 “He told me he doesn’t have a soulmate,” said Shinsou, nodding towards Monoma, “Said the math was against him, but he didn’t care too much. Said it’s better than someone in 3-A.”

 “Jesus,” you said, frowning, “How much does he hate us for him to want to be without a soulmate? Worse, he’s in the same no-soulmate club as Mineta.”

 “I wouldn’t want anything in common with him.” Jirou glanced towards Mineta, eating alone against the caf wall. Good. Suffer, pervert.

 When Jirou got up to throw her trash away, you sighed and leant on Shinsou’s shoulder. “Shinsou, how’s your soulmate search going?”

 He swallowed thickly. “It’s not. How about yours?”

 “Well,” you said, scrunching up your face, “I have a soulmate, but I’ve got no fucking idea who.”

 Shinsou tilted his head, clonking onto yours. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 “I think we’d better go out to the courtyard for this,” you said, swinging your bag strap over your shoulder, “It requires a visual.”

 By the time Shinsou and you had planted yourselves outside behind a cherry tree towards the back of the courtyard (strategically chosen so that you would be hidden behind bushes and hedges, far away from the stone path, just in case someone saw you and Shinsou and got the wrong idea), you hadn’t briefed him yet, due to other students stopping you on the way for your notes.

 “But what do you mean you don’t know?” Shinsou let his backpack slide to the base of the tree trunk and, once you had sat on your knees, he joined you on the ground.

 “I have a mark,” you said, your fists resting on your knees, “but I can’t read it. I think it’s someone’s name—I don’t think it’s long enough to be first words—but whoever it is has extremely shitty handwriting.”

 “You want me to look at it?”

 “Yeah,” you said, reaching for the hem of your shirt but pausing, “It’s in a weird place, so that’s why we’re hidden. I don’t want anyone thinking you’re attacking me.”

 Shinsou’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, and he smirked. “Is it on your tit?”

 “No,” you said, frowning, “but it’s near one, and it’s all scrunched up and cramped on my ribcage; to get a good look, I’m gonna have to stretch.”

 “Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he said, and you lay down in the grass and pulled your shirt up to just below your bra, where the muddled words that barely spanned a centimetre vertically scrawled across the left half of your ribs.

 His brow furrowed, Shinsou hunched over your chest, leaning down and scanning the text.

 He squinted.

 “Give me a moment.” Shinsou shifted from your side to (“Sorry about this.”) straddle you, doing his best not to put his weight on you, his hips staying high with his hands planted on either side of you.

 (“Arch your back a little more?”)

 He tilted his head.

 “Yeah, I’ve got no fucking clue,” Shinsou said, sitting back and off of you, “It’s too small and chaotic. I think I can make out the last kanji in the second word, but it can be read as so many different things, so I can’t say anything for certain. We could go old-school: Tokoyami has a magnifying glass. I could go grab that.”

 “Sure,” you said, shrugging, “You might as well.”

 “I’ll be back,” said Shinsou, getting to his feet with a little jump and brushing off his knees, “Hang in there.”

 Nodding, you closed your eyes as Shinsou jogged off through the bushes, and you stretched your arms above your head, waiting for the soft crack. The first thing you’d say to your soulmate shouldn’t be a critique of his handwriting, so you were tossing your mind around for something relevant that wasn’t outright rude.

 At the sound of the bushes rustling, you turned to raise a brow at Shinsou for returning so soon, but as you held your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun, the silhouette staring down at you blurred not into Shinsou but Monoma.

 Smile slipping away, you yanked your shirt down your stomach again. “The hell do you want? Shinsou’s left, so you’ll have to wait to talk to him.”

 Monoma tossed his hair to the side. “I caught him on the way to your secret little hiding place. What were you talking about?”

 “It doesn’t matter to you, dickhead.” You pushed yourself up on your elbows and then fully sat up as he squatted next to you. “This soulmate shit is supposed to be personal, so get fucking lost, Monoma.”

 Inhaling sharply when you said his name, he held his index finger against his smirk. “Do you actually want me to leave?”

 Bitch-ass. “Of course—”

 And your mind went blank.

 Monoma let out a curt laugh as he watched your realization wash over your face. “That’s what I thought. Now, lie back down for me. That’s good; you’re so good when you want to be,” he said, hunching over you, teeming with rage and gritting your teeth.

 “Don’t talk to me like that.”

 He gave a dismissive wave. “You like it,” he said, moving to sit cross-legged, “C’mon, show me what you were showing him. Go on.”

 Fuming, you dragged your shirt hem upwards, but you did it so slowly that he snapped his fingers and told you to hurry up—and you had to. How many more minutes would Shinsou’s quirk last? Five? Ten? If you could be annoying for ten whole minutes, following the letter of the law if not the spirit, then you could walk away unscathed.

 (An aside: if your soulmate could have Monoma’s quirk to steal Shinsou’s quirk, that’d be hot. Tell me when to open my mouth, sir.)

 Clenching your jaw, you pointedly looked away when he drew closer to your chest to look at the mark.

 “Your soulmark’s on your chest, huh? Right under your—your breast,” Monoma said, propping his chin on his fist. “So, it’s visible if you went swimming. It could show.” He scoffed. “And you were crude enough to willingly show it to just some guy who’s not your soulmate.”

 Your knuckles tightened around the fabric. “Not like it’s a big deal, since neither of us can read it. Let me go, Mon—”

 But his brainwashing loosed you from its grip the same moment his hand dropped into his lap, and he sucked in through his teeth. “You can’t read it?”

 You’re not falling for that again. You kept your mouth shut and moved to gather your and Shinsou’s belongings.

 “What do you mean you can’t read it?” Monoma asked, dogging you while you shoved your stuff into your backpack.

 Shaking your head, you side-stepped him, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and lifting Shinsou’s to your front.

 Crowding you, he asked, his grin and tone growing to that usual obnoxious tone, “Oh, have you not learnt how to read yet? Is that why you’re showing Shinsou? Can anyone in 3-A read? Why don’t you—”

 You shot him a foul look and elbowed him in the stomach, hard, and Monoma doubled over, clutching the spot and muttering under his breath.

 ***

 The magnifying glass didn’t fucking help. The kanji were that deformed; the handwriting was that incomprehensible. Yes, it’s probably a name, since it’s two words that aren’t the same length as a standard greeting (being a first words soulmark situation). You took it to yourself to borrow notes, cycling through everyone’s handwriting in class. Yes, signatures could be way different than regular handwriting, but there are similarities.

 But not in your bitch of a soulmate’s handwriting.

 Going through your unmatched classmates’ notes made you hate your soulmate’s penmanship even more, because if Bakugou Katsuki can write neatly enough to read, anyone should be able to.

 Nobody’s matched your soulmark.

 You decided you could be a little rude when you met your soulmate, for all the trouble he’s causing you.

 ***

 “Oh, ho?”

 Oh, God, not now. You curled in more on yourself, trying to hide yourself in your hoodie and kept your eyes on Kaminari’s notes.

 “Alone on a Friday night? Do you not have any friends to study with?” Monoma pulled out the library chair next to you, the legs scraping the tile, but he didn’t sit down and instead leant his weight against it so that he could loom over you. “How embarrassing.”

 You ignored him. You flipped to the back of a page.

 “Come, now, I don’t have Shinsou’s quirk at the moment. You’re allowed to talk to me,” he said, nudging you with his hip while he tossed his book to himself, “and you should, if you want some shred of intelligent conversation. Bet there’s not a lot of it in 3-A.”

 Kaminari had really inconsistent handwriting. It was as if he had to draw each stroke completely different than he had last drawn it.

 “C’mon, look at me,” said Monoma, and he slid the edge of his book underneath your chin and lifted it to direct your gaze at him.

 The slow drag of the paperback against the tender skin of your neck had you swallowing excess saliva. Oh, God. Flinching away, you knocked his book out of his hand. “In case you haven’t noticed, Monoma, you’re a bit of an ass.”

 “It’s part of my charm,” he said, flashing you a cavalier grin as he stooped to pick up his book, which he immediately chucked onto the notes you were studying, “What’s all this, then? History notes? Our test isn’t for…” Monoma crossed his arms on the library table and hunched to survey the papers, and he frowned. “Good Lord, why would you borrow that idiot Kaminari’s notes? He’s at the bottom of your class, which is saying something.”

 You began to gather up the notes in a huff. “Soulmate stuff is supposed to be personal, Monoma.”

 “I don’t understand how that’s relevant.”

 “Get fucked, moron,” you said, shoving everything into your bag and pushing out your chair in a screech. “Jerk off onto those illustrations, for all I care—”

 He grabbed your wrist.

 Lightly.

 Just his thumb and middle finger. Space in between.

 You froze and stared down at it.

 “Did I say you could leave?”

 Lips parted, your eyes flicked to his.

 “Sit back down. I’ll sit, too.”

 Your throat ran dry as he pulled out your chair for you.

 When the two of you were seated, he was leaning on his elbow on the table, smug as hell, waiting for you to break first, but goddamn, you were frothing with a boiled-over fury; how the fuck dare he; oh, my God.

 Step one: cover your ass.

 You cleared your throat and spoke softly (library hours!). “First off, how fucking dare you talk to me like that; you shouldn’t fucking talk to anyone like that. You don’t own anyone; that showed an immense amount of disrespect towards—and I know you hate 3-A on principle; that’s fine. I get it, I guess. But you can’t fucking act like that in real life towards anyone—”

 “Pfft.” Monoma bit the inside of his index finger. “You like it.”

 How dare he say something so accurate. Step two: proceed to cover your ass. “What the fuck, man,” you said, slapping the table, “You can’t be an asshole to everyone and claim that everyone finds it hot. Everyone just finds you super fucking annoying. Not everyone is a masochist.”

 The fucker actually held out his hand to check his nails. “Like you?”

 You’ve dug your own grave.

 Monoma clicked his tongue before smirking. “That hesitation says everything I need to know.”

 Why aren’t you covering your ass?!

 “No, I,” you said. C’mon, think! Or at least look like you’re thinking! Brow furrowed, you opened your mouth and then closed it. “I was simply struck dumb by the weird direction the conversation was going. I thought we were talking about how much of an ass you are.”

 “It’s connected,” he said, and he held up a finger with each hand before tapping them together. “Even before, I’ve noticed that whenever I’ve ripped your class to shreds, you’re always glaring at me, otherwise with so carefully controlled an expression—especially when I’m verbally insulting someone. You’ve gotten very good at controlling your face so that the arousal doesn’t show—”

 “What the fuck is wrong with you,” you asked flatly.

 “Because you’re projecting,” he hissed, clamping his hand on the back of your chair to get closer to you (his breath hit your face with each harsh consonant), “You’re thinking that it could be you I’m degrading in front of everyone, you who’s got my complete attention, whether it be negative or not. You’re—”

 “Hold up,” you said, placing your hand on his chest and firmly pushing him away by your fingertips (before he says something that hits a bit too close to home), “Let’s back up. Say you’ll listen to me with an open mind.”

 Pouting, Monoma slumped back in his seat and blew out of the corner of his mouth to huff his hair out of his eyes. “Fine.”

 “First off—and I swear to you I am being honest here—when I look at you with a controlled, annoyed expression, it is because I am annoyed at you. Your running gag of making fun of 3-A is not cute. It’s a bit pathetic. It’s annoying.”

 Monoma frowned. It took him a moment, but he tilted his head, as if he were genuinely considering it. “It’s because it’s horrible being reminded of what greatness looks like, right?”

 You shook your head. “It’s usually at a bad time for competition, anyway, since our class tends to go through a lot of outside-influenced events that already have us pretty damn stressed. Regular school stuff feels like it holds less weight when, like, the League of Villains targeted us recently.”

 He blinked. Once, twice. Then his jaw dropped. “Are you saying I’m annoying?”

 You buried your face in your hands.

 “But you look so aroused when I taunt you.”

 Good God, you’re going to peel off your skin so that you can whack him with each and every one of your ribs. “Monoma,” you said, peeking through your fingers, “You would fucking know when I’m aroused.”

 “Well, I should hope so,” he said, tapping his fingers in a rhythm on the table, “I hope to learn.”

 “What the fuck is wrong with—”

 “Why are you studying Kaminari’s notes, anyway? If it’s not for school.”

 You sighed. Whatever. Anything’s better than talking about what turns you on. If you answer as straightforwardly as possible, maybe he’ll get bored and leave. “Kaminari has the shittiest handwriting in my class.”

 “It looked perfectly legible to me.”

 “Yeah,” you said, digging a page back out of your bag, “Take a gander. Take a goose. Look at this shit.” You smoothed the rumpled paper onto the table, scooting your chair noisily closer to it (he lifted his chair quietly). “It’s like the man didn’t go to kindergarten. Look at the way he forms his kanji. No consistent form. No style,” you said, gesturing with your pinkie towards a particularly egregious part, “He’s got some bulky words over here, but it gets small and tight towards the bottom, and—” You cut yourself off and scratched your forehead. “It’s still better than my soulmate’s handwriting.”

 Monoma’s eyes snapped up to yours. “Huh?”

 “My soulmate’s handwriting is shit. The shittiest I’ve ever seen. I can’t fucking read it. You saw.” You lowered your hand to graze the spot where it branded you. “Can’t even tell if it’s a name, or first words, or anything. I don’t know,” you said quietly. “Makes it feel like he’s so far away. Like I’ll never be able to find him, and this’ll chip away at my soul, like Tainted Love said. Never be able to—what the fuck is wrong with you?”

 Monoma had started unbuckling his belt.

 “Holy shit,” you said, sliding your chair away from him, “Just because I had a moment of vulnerability does not mean I’m down to fuck—”

 “Look at this.” Monoma tugged the waistband of his jeans down—

 “I’m not looking at your noodle dick.”

 “It’s not—what kind of noodles are you eating? No, fuck, I mean. It’s not my dick,” he said, brow furrowed, lips curled inside his mouth momentarily, “but you probably won’t believe me based on my word alone.”

 He’d pulled his jeans down about three centimetres—barely enough for the elastic of his boxers to show (high-waisted bitch)—and. And. And it’s your own goddamn signature, perfectly legible, you’d like to add, scrawled sideways on his hip, parallel to…to one half of that infuriating v that some guys have.

 “Do we both have all of the information now?” He yanked his jeans back up and fumbled for the ends of his belt.

 “Uh,” you said really intelligently.

 “With that out of the way, I’d like to propose—”

 “Already?”

 “—a guideline,” Monoma finished as he sat back down, narrowing his eyes, “since it appears we’re both inclined to miscommunication: that we be as honest as we can with each other and tell each other what we’re thinking, in general, to prevent confusion.”

 “How reasonable of you,” you said, “I hate it.”

 “No, you don’t.”

 “I don’t,” you admitted.

 “Onto other things I’m right about.” Shifting in his seat to face you, Monoma nudged your knee with his and reached for your hand—he made eye contact with you to see if it were all right, and after you nodded very slightly, he took it, your fingers curving into his palm as they both rested in your lap. “You like it when I’m a bit mean to you, yes?”

 You scowled. “Hey.”

 He smiled, glancing at your hands. “Yes?”

 Pointedly looking away, you said, “Yes.”

 “I don’t wanna do anything you don’t like,” he said, and he winced. “I thought you already knew and that you were playing into the teasing thing, so I’m sorry for how I was acting towards you.”

 God. You guessed you could be honest with your stupid idiot beautiful man of a soulmate. “No, no. I’m a bit fucked up to where I think the casual bullying thing is attractive.”

 Again, Monoma winced. “But I didn’t have your permission.”

 You scoffed. “You hardly have permission when you try to roast the whole of 3-A—”

 “Yeah, but that doesn’t have sexual undertones,” said Monoma, taking your other hand and edging his chair closer to you.

 “I should hope not.”

 “It doesn’t.” Closing his eyes, he sighed and rubbed his thumbs over your fingers, his skin soft where you touched him. “I—I have another guideline. More like a rule.”

 “Let’s hear it.”

 Monoma cracked one eye open, gauging your expression before opening them both. “I’d like to keep the fact that we’re soulmates a secret. I’m not ashamed of you, by any means, but—but if everyone finds out that I’ve got a soulmate in 3-A after all the shit I’ve talked—” He grimaced, his shoulders falling slack. “There’ll be hell to pay. I know this is a lot to ask, but—”

 “Sure,” you said, giving his (soft) hands a squeeze, “but I’ve got a rule—guideline—or two myself. We’re being honest with each other?”

 “Of course.”

 “One: lend me your moisturiser.”

 Monoma laughed, the first time you’ve knowingly made your soulmate laugh. You can already tell you’re going to collect so much of his laughter like prized marbles in your pocket. You looked forward to it.

 “Two: you should keep bullying Class 3-A.”

 Here Monoma frowned, but before he could open his mouth, you continued.

 “Three: you start bullying me—in private, though.”

 He opened his mouth, a smile tugging on the corners, and he closed it again before leaning back in his seat. “All right, then, masochist. Tell me what you’re into.”

 ***

 In the first joint training session between 3-A and 3-B since the soulmate incident, you faked an injury.

 “Fucking hell,” you said, with more volume and vehemence than you would have for a normal wound, and you crumpled to the ground to grasp delicately at your calf (catching the attention of those sparring nearby). While you were shielding it from view, you ripped part of the fabric of your P.E. uniform pants leg.

 Shoda Nirengeki, who’d been sparring you, rushed over towards where you crouched and gestured over his shoulder to Aizawa-sensei, who had started walking before he’d been summoned.

 “Jesus Christ, Shoda,” you said, blinking a lot to pretend like you’re trying not to cry, “Good—good work.” You sniffed. “Holy shit. Your—your Twin Impact stuff is really coming along.”

 Shoda’s perpetually grim expression grew grimmer. “Sorry about that,” he was saying as Aizawa stopped behind you, “Do you think you need to go see Recovery Girl?”

 “Uh,” you said, glancing in what you hoped was a nervous way at Aizawa-sensei and back at Shoda, “Uh, no. No, I can keep going. Just let me—” Visibly bracing yourself, you pushed yourself up to stand, refusing Aizawa’s help, and you wobbled.

 “Change out of your P.E. uniform and go see Recovery Girl,” he said, “You’re excused for the rest of the period. Shoda, let’s find you another pair to spar with.” Aizawa paused. “Can you get to her office by yourself?”

 You nodded, like a student who didn’t want to show weakness. Yeah. “Sure. I’ll just—just be slow going, y’know? I’ll…I’ll be fine.”

 Aizawa dismissed you, and while you felt like a bit of an ass faking a limp along the gym wall, it was a perfect balance of oh-I-don’t-want-to-bring-attention-to-myself-BUT.

 Once you closed to gym doors behind you, you heaved a sigh. Hopefully, that was enough for that idiot to notice. You walked towards the girls’ locker room.

 Where’s your locker, your locker—yeah, around the bend towards the back, near the showers, behind the weird island of lockers in the middle. Yours was the last one for 3-A before 3-B’s lockers started, and even then, unclaimed lockers stretched between classes—probably for privacy between shower stalls.

 When the door swung open with a slow squeak, you had to bite back a smile as you took your school blazer off its hanger.

 “Look who thinks she can ditch the only class we’ve had together in weeks,” Monoma said from the doorframe, judging by the sound, “but she’s not as slick as she thinks.”

 His sluggish footsteps echoed on the locker room tile, and you changed your mind: you put your blazer back in your locker to skip a step, instead unbuttoning the first button on your P.E. top, starting at the collar.

 “You were just begging for any shred of my attention.” Sounds like he’s rounded the island. You kept your back to him. “Well, you’ve got it. And you like it more than you care to admit.”

 Oh, good start. “What are you doing in the girls’ locker room, Monoma?” you asked flatly, hiding the fact that you were unbuttoning your shirt by hunching into your locker to tug at your duffel bag zipper. “You’re not supposed to be in here. You can’t cut class without anyone noticing.”

 “No more than anyone will notice you’ve miraculously been healed without going to Recovery Girl.” Judging by his shadow (flickering because of the spinning fan blades between the fluorescent lights), he placed a knee on the wooden bench behind you, and he stretched forward so that his breath brushed against the back of your neck. “But you can’t escape me.” He blew cool air into your ear, and at your shiver, he hummed. “And I believe I told you to call me Neito.”

 You were pleasantly surprised by how good he was at this—but you supposed you shouldn’t be, since he’s already told you about the improv class he took over the summer. Theatre kids will be freaks and be good at it on occasion.

 You tried to turn to face him, but Monoma seized the back of your head and pressed your cheek into the locker vents, not very hard but firmly enough to leave an imprint on your skin. “No, you don’t get to look at me unless I say you can. Got that?”

 “Let go of me; get fucked, Mo—”

 “I said—” He shoved you against the next closed locker with his other hand splayed widely across the small of your back, and the cool of the metal pricked goosebumps where it touched your bare skin. “—Got that? Can’t you hear me, babe? Or are you just that thoughtless?”

 Clearing your throat, you swallowed thickly. “I can hear you just fine.”

 “Oh?” Monoma clicked his tongue (a habit of his you’ve previously thought was rather vexing, but it’s since grown to be a perfect mark of condescension). “I can hear you just fine what?”

 You clenched your teeth. “I can hear you just fine, dipshit.”

 “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Monoma gripped the hair at the base of your neck and yanked, and he hissed into your ear, his face barely out of your periphery. “You fucking get off on pissing me off, but it’s not gonna pay off in the long run. It’s not gonna be long until I have you in your rightful place: in my bed or under my fucking boot. And you’ll want it; you’ll want what I give you, and I want you writhing underneath me, so teary-eyed and pitiful and overstimulated that you’ll finally puncture your ego enough to beg me to stop, and I won’t.”

 “As if I’d ever beg you for anything,” you said, revelling in the way he used his harsh grip on your hair to guide your face away from the vents to prevent you from getting cut, “You’ve never had anything I’ve ever wanted.”

 “Yeah, well—” Monoma cut himself off, scoffing onto the back of your neck. “Good Lord. If that’s the truth, then you’ve got another thing comin’ to you—I’ve wanted you since before all the soulmate stuff, and now that goddamn fate has put a permanent mark in my shape over your heart, no one’s gonna take you away from me.”

 You jolted in place, even though his hands roamed down to pin you by your hips. “Neito, is that—?”

 “You’re goddamn right it is. You’ve—you’ve fucking distracted me when I’ve had to work harder than anyone else in this fucking school, studying not only my quirk but every quirk around me—and in you’d saunter. What the hell were you playing at? Seems like you don’t even try,” he said with a grunt, and his thumbs began to dig into the small of your back from his clutch on your hips—good pain, a delicate feeling that had your vision blurring for a second—and Monoma used his shoulder to keep you pressed against the locker, finally pressing his chest against your back (still sweaty from sparring, but his body heat was a comforting contrast to the increasingly lukewarm metal against your stomach).

 Tilting his head, he rested his cheek near your uniform collar so that he spoke against your neck. “All right, sweetheart? So, don’t push your soulmate away. Even now, I’m being so patient with you, and I could be even more, offer to wait for you to give yourself to me so that I can destroy you in every way you crave. Invite you to explore together how long it takes you to break. But y’know?” His lips grazed your neck with every word. “I’d rather make you regret keeping what’s mine from me for such a long time.”

 Wait, you’d been getting so into it you’d forgotten to pretend to struggle. So, you squirmed in his grasp and tried to kick him from behind. “Only in your pathetic little wet dreams are you and me—”

 “Hey,” Monoma said, lifting both the arrogant voice and his chin from your shoulder, “You’re not actually hurt, are you? Do you need to go to Recov—”

 “No! No, you’re doing great,” you said, and you finally got to look him in the eye, nodding encouragingly, “I’m fine; I faked an injury for this. This is good. You’re really good.”

 With a softness sweeping over his face, Monoma smiled. “Thanks; I wrote some of these lines this morning.”

 Fucking nerd.

 He stretched to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “So, you won’t mind if I do this?” With the smug voice returning (you snapped back towards the inside of your locker), he rammed his thigh between your legs, the pressure initially on your ass before he jerked you back by the hips so that it was all against your clit—he pushed down on the swell of your ass to keep you still.

 “Regardless of your meagre little excuse to get my attention, I think you are sick, but it’s not something that can be cured, can it?” Monoma brought his other arm around to wrap around you, his palm flat against your bare collarbone (he thought you wouldn’t notice his quiet gasp when he realised your shirt was unbuttoned, but he’s not subtle), so he’s keeping your back arched as he pressed down on your ass. “You’re a sick little pervert—you stay up late fucking yourself while thinking of me, don’t you? Thinking of my hands on you just like this? That’s why—”

 “Wrong—”

 “Oh, yeah? But you’re turned on by this now, so I know you’re fucking soaked—”

 “Wrong again, asshole—”

 Monoma laughed loudly enough for it to reverberate throughout the locker room, and you made an effort to elbow him, which he evaded. “Is that so? You’re not wet? Open your legs, then.”

 His hand trailed from your collarbone down to just above your bra, stopping short of touching your boob in a way that matters, and you jerked away too hard and struck your shoulder against the locker. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

 When he finally moved his hand from your hip around to graze your bare stomach with his fingertips, Monoma fucking shuddered. He briefly buried his face in your scrunched-up collar before lifting it to speak. “Say you hate me all you want.” He thrust his thigh upwards, lifting you enough for your toes to graze the floor (has—has Monoma fucking Neito always been strong enough to manhandle you?). “But you can’t deny the way I make you clench,” he said, and with his hand flat against your pelvis, he forced you to grind on his thigh all the way back until your ass met his—his fucking erection—

 The locker room door slammed open with the handle clattering, and Monoma had clamped his hand over your mouth and yanked you into a shower stall before Asui and Hagakure could start their noisily mournful search for a piece of Hagakure’s equipment that they left behind.

 Monoma clutched you to his heaving chest against the mildewed shower wall, leaning on it so that you wouldn’t have to, the hand on your hip keeping you close and the one over your mouth shaking—as it should be, you thought, since he’s got his soulmate’s ass against his cock.

 The girls talked while they riffled through their lockers, each door squeaking with the movement. Once your breathing quieted on its own, Monoma cautiously lifted his hand from your mouth, and he took you by the chin to look at him, raising his eyebrows to ask if you’re okay.

 His shoulders slackened from the tension once you nodded, and he closed his eyes to kiss the side of your head. Keeping his mouth near, he stared over your shoulder and reached both his arms around to start buttoning up your shirt.

 ***

 Another day, at your scheduled meeting at a vending machine during fourth period, the two of you agreed that while the threat of being caught is hot, neither of you actually want to found in that sort of position. You both said you’d be more careful, but you’d both said it in a bit of a joking way—playing the bully and victim felt better fast and loose, you’d said, even though in retrospect, it took more than a little planning.

 “The illusion of spontaneity, then,” Monoma said, attempting to roll his can of peach soda down his upper arm to pop it in the air with his elbow—you caught it from hitting the ground.

 “Still,” you said, deliberately placing the soda back in his hands rather than risk his dropping it again, “I worry about how much of your time you spend planning for this stuff. All I’m doing is reacting, while you basically have to have a script.”

 Monoma shot you a toothy smile while he plugged a couple of 50-yen coins into the vending machine for you. “More like an outline. It’s not too bad.” He slipped his hands into his pockets and leant against the machine while you punched in your selection, and over the whirr, he said, “Makes me get better by trying over and over again. And I’ll keep doing it over and over again, so long as it makes you happy.”

 “Oh, it does,” you said, bending down at the kerchunk to reach into the flap, “It really does.” You stood back up and snapped your fingers. “Oh, yeah, I finished your stupid-ass Franco-Belgian comics, but they’re in my dorm; I’ll get them back to you after dinner.”

 Monoma’s soda hissed when he opened it. “And are they as stupid and ass as you thought?” he asked with an easy grin.

 “No, considering I figured all of them were going to be like The Adventures of TinTin. Not the best starting point, Neito.”

 He shrugged. “It’s the one with the most international fame.”

 “I’ve been meaning to read Persepolis for a while now; I didn’t know it fit into that genre. I liked that a lot. Chlorophylle is charming, but I’m not sure I get all of the dated satire. Yoko Tsuno is fun; that, uh—that Rahan one isn’t as good as you think it is.”

 “What are you talking about? It’s hilarious. You get to see the process of discovery.” He took a swig of his peach soda too quickly and choked a little, like an idiot.

 “Thirteen was interesting,” you said, unscrewing the cap for your strawberry soda and paused so that it wouldn’t bubble over, “Do you have the other volumes?”

 Monoma wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Baby, I’ve got them in the original French, if you like.”

 “I do not like. You’re a freak,” you said, smiling down at your soda bottle, “I barely speak this language, and you’re stupidly talented enough to read—”

 When Awase rounded the corner and walked down the hallway towards the two of you, Monoma visibly floundered for a split second before launching into his (clown) routine.

 “Every single day proves me more and more right that no one in Class 3-A has any taste,” he said too loudly, gesturing wildly at you and spilling his own soda in the process, “I mean, come, now. Strawberry? It’s not even a berry. It’s a pseudocarp.”

 Get the man a clown nose; now you’re having an argument over food.

 “Your mom’s a pseudocarp,” you said as Awase passed by, hesitated, and turned back.

 “Is this idiot bothering you?” asked Awase, stepping slightly between you and Monoma.

 “Always,” you said, tossing your hair the best you could and spinning on your heel to go to class.

 ***

 You put more strategy into organising a girls’ pool volleyball game than you did for most of your practical hero assignments. Once the sun had gone down, the girls of the hero course would have a no-boys-allowed volleyball game in the school swimming pool as a reprieve from the stress of schoolwork and internships, even getting permission from Aizawa, Vlad King, and Nezu to ensure it’d be okay. Conveniently, a certain mouthy bitch would find out about the competition between 3-A and 3-B, and he’d sneak into the pool area to support his class to defeat 3-A. And oh, no, he’s the only boy at this girls’ event, and so his punishment would be to pack up all of the volleyball equipment with you at the end of the night, therefore ensuring a carefully crafted “public” moment of a bully and his victim he’s secretly in love with in a situation that has the illusion of possibly being interrupted but in actuality is quite private, since everyone has worn themselves out from the game and is eager to get the fuck back to the dorms.

 Unfortunately.

 By the time you’ve finished tying the net across the water, several boys from both classes have trickled into the pool area. None of them arrived together, each of them clearly having the same idea of being the only boy surrounded by girls in swimsuits, and now they were bitterly glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes. Hell, Kirishima was even here with Mina’s support, since she convinced him to do the heavy lifting—which they showed up too late to do, so you’ve already done it.

 Now you regretted telling Shinsou to stay away even after his offer to help set up, because you’d like some sanity amidst, like, Mineta and Kaminari not even trying to be discreet.

 When Monoma walked in with his fruity little towel over his arm, he gasped way more dramatically than the situation called for, but at least he didn’t say anything to further embarrass himself. He pouted all the way to his pool chair (good boy; he’d recognised your towel and bag to set up next to your chair in the far corner), where, even from the table at which you were arranging carrot sticks and sour candy (a balanced diet), you scouted out his battered copy of The Return of the King and the next volume of Thirteen when he plopped them at the foot of his chair.

 You got Kendo to shout out the rules for the invading group: “First off, our snacks are off limits. Second, you don’t play our volleyball game, and if you say anything about it, it had better be only positive encouragement. Get in the pool, sure, but stay away from us.” That was a nice touch of hers, since the pseudo-volleyball court took up most of the pool; the guys would have to be scrunched up together near the far edges.

 During the volleyball game, outside of your vain attempt to channel Oikawa Tooru, you did a quick headcount: you’ve accidentally involved around 25 people in your plans to make out with Monoma later. It struck you that with all of the people out here, it might genuinely be less of a risk to just kiss him in the common area of one of the dorms at this point.

 “Oof, ouch, my bones,” you said to Mina, “My arms are starting to ache. Put me out, coach. I’m gonna go sit for a few minutes.”

 Mina sent a playful splash your way. “That’s fine! Try to enjoy your break the best you can—though you might wanna move your stuff! It looks like Monoma’s camping out next to you.”

 You could make her laugh harder if you let her know he’s your soulmate. “I was there first. I’ll make him want to leave.”

 She waved you off, and you climbed out of the pool, water sloshing down your body to the concrete as you approached your pool chair.

 Monoma—what a cute moron—had adjusted his chair so that he could lounge back while he read, and he was wearing sunglasses despite the sun having gone down long ago. As you wrapped your towel around yourself, he shut his book and rested it on his raised knee.

 “You gonna get me some sour gummies?”

 “Get them yourself,” you said, squeezing water out of your hair, “I’m exhausted.”

 His lower lip jutted out. “Kendo said boys have to starve themselves.”

 You laughed through your nose. “If the other guys hadn’t had the same idea to show up, you could have probably weaselled away the whole bag by now.”

 “With the other guys here—” Monoma made a noise as if to spit in their direction. “—I don’t like the way Kaminari looks at you.”

 You actually laughed this time. “Kaminari looks at everyone that way.”

 “Yes, but,” he said, scratching his cheek, “you’re the only one that matters.”

 You narrowed your eyes. How sweet. “You can’t mean that it doesn’t matter if he pervs on someone, so long as it’s not me—”

 “God, fuck—you know what I mean,” he said with a loose wave, “I was trying to be romantic and gallant, but if you’d rather talk potentially problematic subtext that I didn’t even mean—”

 “I don’t; I’m so fucking tired.” You brought your knees to your chest, your toes dangling off the edge of your seat. You brought your towel over your head so that it was more like a hood you could hide under. “There are way too many people.”

 Setting his book aside, Monoma sat fully upright and crossed his legs. “You need to get out of here?”

 “I can’t,” you said, groaning, “I’m in charge. It would be mean of me to slack off and make someone else clean everything up.”

 He shot a look towards the pool and back at you. “Why don’t you take a nap until it’s over, then? Here, take my towel. Use it as a blanket—” He tossed it to you. “—and I’ll make the excuses. Say you badgered me for it and that I’m not leaving without all my stuff. And then I can help you pack it all up once everyone’s leaving.”

 Unfolding his towel in your lap, you blinked blearily at him. “You won’t mind that we won’t get to…?”

 “Nah. I’ll be fine. Another time.”

 “Okay,” you said, curling up on your side away from the crowd and tucking both towels around yourself, “Thank you.”

 You heard him hum as he flicked a page of his book.

 When Monoma shook you awake, you rubbed sleep out of your eyes to reveal a silent, empty pool, the volleyball net already rolled up beside the water and the snack area already ferreted away.

 You covered your yawn but spoke through it. “What—who cleaned—”

 “Kirishima helped me take down the net, and he and Mina took care of the food—except for a bag of sour gummies I have successfully commandeered,” he said, “But you have the key to the room where the net goes, so they’ve all left once everything else was done. And lucky you—you missed when Ashido took the video to record the event on the third years’ twitter account, so you didn’t have to be humiliated for posterity.”

 Well, it appeared they volunteered to help and being caught on camera wasn’t always fun (especially with Mina’s unreliable camerawork), so you elected not to feel guilty. “You didn’t wake me up sooner?”

 Monoma raised a brow. “If you’re passed out on a poor chair during a fucking loud get-together, you need the sleep.”

 “Fair enough,” you said, sitting up and reaching for your bag.

 “Oh?” Monoma was saying as you wadded up both towels and shoved them inside. “You don’t plan on getting wet again?”

 “Not when I’m already dry—oh. I see.” Stifling another yawn, you pushed on your knees to stand. “Sure. Not as intense as we planned, please, since I may collapse any second. But I guess I could get caught in the pool after hours by my school bully; I don’t know.”

 Monoma yanked you back down to kiss you on the cheek before releasing your arm. “Brilliant. Go get in the pool.”

 It’s probably be hotter if there’s a layer of he-can-touch-the-bottom-of-the-pool-but-you-can’t, so you climbed in towards the deep end and swam towards the middle. From your spot where your clung to the edge, you cheered when he took off his shirt, and he still rolled his eyes and shook his head.

 “Hot boy! There’s a hot boy on the loose,” you said as he got closer and sat down on the ledge next to you, dipping his feet in the water, “Hot boy!”

 “You’re insane,” he said through a soft smile, and he tried to ruffle your hair, but you dodged it by ducking underneath the water

 “But that’s part of my charm,” you said once you’d surfaced.

 It was a good thing you were already in the pool, since your throat was already going dry at the sight of his stupid lean but toned chest, certain lines in muscle defined but not all of them (he’d told you he deliberately didn’t want to get super ripped like Bakugou or Kirishima, because a lot of his strategy in battle relies on agility and flexibility—and if he’s got less bulk to throw around, then it’s easier for him to recover when an opponent’s caught him off guard—something about the same thing male gymnasts did, from his perspective). Still, that just meant that he was a different kind of physically fit, and the category you’d decided he fit into was pretty.

 “You ready?”

 His voice broke your attention away from the cute little rolls on his stomach when he hunched over. “Yes.” You kicked off the side of the pool underwater, propelling yourself more towards the centre.

 Treading water, you tilted your head up towards the night sky and listened for movement in the water, but all you could hear was the tinny buzz of the overhead lights, occasionally interrupted in their drone when bugs flew into them.

 Two fingers grazed your spine before you knew it. “Wha—Neito,” you said, spinning around in the water and frantically searching for an escape route before he could crowd you, “What are you doing out this late?”

 “I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his voice taking on that icy, patronising tone, “It could be trouble if someone knew you were out after curfew, sweetheart, and I know you’re depending on Aizawa’s recommendation to get into that agency soon. So, let’s not make a scene while we’re here. We wouldn’t want anyone else to find you. You’re lucky it’s only me, who won’t share his playthings.” Monoma kept his face close to the water and swam to your side, getting behind you before you could even register movement.

 “You don’t—you don’t have to do this,” you said in what was hopefully a choked-up sounding way, your breath hitching as his hands drifted down your sides to grip your hips from behind, “We could just—we could both just walk away! Say we didn’t see—”

 “No.” He tapped his fingers on your hipbones while his thumbs dug into the small of your back again. “Why would I sacrifice a chance to—stop squirming—to discipline you for how you behaved—”

 Once you kicked out of his grasp and began to swim towards the shallow end, you figured he’d manhandle you back into his arms, but Monoma remained in his place and called your name with enough wrath to froth over.

 He spoke with a controlled, quiet fury. “Where do you think you’re going?”

 You hesitated just before the pool steps.

 “Turn around.”

 Looking over your shoulder, you met his scowl before turning fully.

 “Either you come back here on your own, or I make you.”

 Ohhohoho, hot. You took more time than you normally would have in returning to him, and you took his hand when he extended it to you, your own shaking.

 “So, she can be good when she wants to,” Monoma said under his breath, “Not that she’s been good at all today.” Dragging you closer to him, he gripped the back of your neck to make you look into his eyes. “You’re a fucking tease, you know that?”

 You sniffed and glanced away for effect. “I—I don’t know what—”

 “I—I don’t know,” he mocked, and he moved his hand to squeeze your cheeks, your chin in his palm, “Do you know how much those other guys were looking at you? No? Answer the fucking question, sweetheart.”

 While you struggled to shake your head, Monoma squeezed again, his thumb and middle finger forcing space between your upper and lower teeth.

 “Care to explain why you chose to wear such a tiny little swimsuit—”

 (It’s really not. It’s a two-piece that completely covers you, including your stomach, and even has a little skirt, but you can guess where he’s going with this.)

 “—that could be tragically lost at any time?” And yes, he’s going for the first tie at the back of your neck, and he tugged it loose, flipping the strands to the front so that the fabric fell enough for the top of your boobs to show. “You’d think that you want any sadistic voyeur imagining how you’d look out of your swimsuit to touch you—”

 “But—”

 “Hold still for me.” He reached for the second tie. “We wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, hm? Because,” Monoma said, yanking your top off and chucking it off to the side, where it struck the concrete with a wet plop, “we can’t have…have you…”

 You caught a visible moment of genuine affection sweep across his face as you squished your boobs against his chest, hugging him tightly while checking the surroundings again in case someone else saw your nipples—even him, considering this is going to be his first time seeing them bare.

 He guided your chin up to face him, his lips so close you could feel their heat. “Well, aren’t you suddenly such a good girl?”

 And that got heat spreading across your face and ears; you made feeble efforts to jerk your chin away, but he held it steady.

 “You’re taking it so easily, even clinging to me. Bit suspicious, yeah?”

 “No,” you said, finally ducking your head, “I don’t want anyone else to see me, and I’m nervous, anyway.”

 As he guided you backwards towards a corner of the pool, his eyes lit the fuck up. “Anyone else? Is my prideful little baby admitting that it’s okay if she gets manhandled and shoved around and spat at, so long as it’s my hands doing it? You don’t want to be passed around like a common whore?”

 As he situated the two of you in the corner, he took a glance towards the doorway and adjusted himself so that he’d block the view of whoever may walk in. Monoma waited until you’d mumbled out no as an answer.

 “It’s only me? How embarrassing.” His grin stretched widely across his face, his teeth cutting into his lower lip. “You only have to focus on me, babe, because if anyone tried to take you from me, he’d see that mark, my name already branding you until the end of time. Hey,” he said, relaxing his grip on you a bit, “let me see?”

 You dropped your arms, backing into the corner as far as you could go, and his eyes fell half-lidded and down to your boobs.

 The fucker sighed dreamily.

 When he raised a tentative hand to rub his thumb over the soulmark, he fucking sighed again.

 Since your nipples had the time to harden due to the cool of the night, instead of, like, his touch, you asked, out of character, “Are you gonna do anything about it, screwboy?”

 “You don’t know what you do to me,” said Monoma, shaking his head, and he got back into it. “But they won’t even have to see the soulmark to know you’re mine; when I’m through with you, you’ll be so marked up with hickies and bruises—maybe a slap mark or two—that they’ll know you’re not theirs to touch.” He cupped one of your boobs and gently pinched the nipple of the other, rolling it between his fingers, and he took a moment to kiss you—open-mouthed and insistent, a soft sort of greediness as he took your lower lip into his mouth, and he couldn’t hold back his fully fledged ­­moan when you raised your leg to keep his hips pressed to yours to grind against him underwater.

 “I dare you to tell me to stop.” Monoma kissed down your throat, being wet on purpose, and he got all the way down to just above your nipple before he stared up at you with that idiotic grin. “Ooh, she can’t, can she?” He let out a laugh, the heat suffusing over your boob. “It’s okay, baby. I know you can’t help it.”

 Monoma took your nipple into his mouth and sucked, and you scrunched your eyes shut, squirming away on impulse as you pushed on his head—but you made yourself still, and you opened your eyes.

 “That’s right, pretty—just look at me.” He made a show of licking all around your nipple before flicking it with the tip of his tongue. “You give me that much, and I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll give you everything.”

 ***

 You were walking back to the dorms from a local corner shop, and Monoma was trying to have phone sex with you.

 You weren’t feeling particularly sexy, bundled up in a heavy winter coat and his houndstooth scarf with your nose running from the cold, but he didn’t need to know that. He wouldn’t, so long as he didn’t hear the rustling of the shop bags.

 “Wish you’d video call,” he said, panting, “You could see me, then—see me stroke myself to your voice.”

 “When you start the call with a demand to ‘put the girls on,’ you lose all rights and privileges.” You had to be vaguer and quieter now that you were on campus. “Tell me more about what’s happening on your side. You close?”

 “God, yes, I miss you. I need you. I swear you could slap my face right now, and I’d come all over my chest.”

 You started up the path to the dorms, quietly knocking on the mailboxes for luck. “Not on me? You’re so considerate.”

 “Tell me—tell me what you’d do to me, if—ah, fuck—if you were here.”

 “I don’t think you deserve that, Neito,” you said, trotting up the steps to 3-B’s dorm and peeking in the windows to gauge crowd control, “Well, I’ll allow you this: I wouldn’t do or say a damn thing. I’d stare you down while you mindlessly babble about what you want me to do until you get frustrated enough to take it into your own hands.” Doesn’t look like anyone’s hanging out in the commons, so you opened the front door.

 “You’d hah, have the nerve to treat me like that? You really thi—think I’d let you? Oh, sweet girl, you precious little thing, it’s a miracle you’re walkin’ around with that sort of confidence, when I co—could rip you apart at any moment.” He’s getting careless, letting the wet schlick grow louder over the phone. Must be embarrassing to share a wall with him. “I don’t always play this nicely.”

 Kendo waved to you from the kitchen, but you just smiled and pressed a finger over your lips, nodding towards your phone. She gestured towards her cooking, holding out a spoonful of soup, since your hands were full.

 You let her guide it to your mouth, and you took the opportunity to moan once you tasted it. You heard him inhale sharply over the phone.

 You gave Kendo a thumbs-up, and she smiled, leaving you to choose whether to take the lift or the stairs. With the stairs, you risk the sound of your footsteps echoing, but with the lift, you risk the ding when the doors open.

 “Fuck, fuck, sweetheart,” Monoma was saying as you shifted all your bags to one arm to start walking up the stairs, “You make another sound, and you won’t be able to sit down for days when I see you again. I’m gon—gonna fuck you the way you need, and you, you need to feel my cock spread you open, hm? It’ll be so good; you’re so good to me.”

 He’s on the third floor, right? Room…what, 302? You supposed you could just follow the sounds of Some Guy Jerkin’ Off, but that leaves a lot to be desired.

 “I’m—I know I’d fit you so well,” Monoma said with a grunt, the bed creaking in the background, “Someday, I’m gonna—”

 “Yeah, some day you’ll get that done, Neito,” you said, scanning the room numbers on the doors, “Until then, you’re just some bitch-ass virgin.”

 And that’s what pushed him over the edge. Grinning, you held the phone away from your ear, listening in the hallway for the same whiny, throaty moans (boys should moan all the time, you’ve decided. It’s just too darn pretty of a sound).

 You waited outside his room until he finished, and you pressed the phone to your ear again.

 “Baby, I love you; God, fuck, I’m so lucky to have you as my soulmate,” he was babbling mindlessly, just like you’d said he would, “You’re so, so good, and kind, and—”

 You knocked on his door.

 “Shit—” You heard fumbling both over the phone and through the door. “I’m so, so sorry, but I must’ve been too loud; someone’s at my door. I’ve got to go. God, where are my pants—”

 Hanging up first, you bounced on the balls of your feet and listened to the clatter going on in his room, and eventually, he, wearing mismatched clothes, swung open the door.

 After a beat, Monoma frowned and crossed his arms. “I suppose you think you’re awfully clever.”

 “I know I am,” you said, striding past him and setting your shopping bags on his desk, “and you were right: your scarf really does make it feel like you’re cosied up in a sleeping bag.” You took it off and laid it over the back of his desk chair. “Thanks.”

 Grimacing, Monoma was already back on his bed and opening his laptop. “Well, now that you’re here, you can’t leave until you tell me what you think of my next chapter.”

 “You finished it? That’s really fucking neat-o, Neito,” you said, adding the English word to piss him off. “Let me read.”

 While you read the word document on his laptop, Monoma riffled through the shopping bags (crinkling a lot, you might add) for the pack of Kororo white peach gummies, and then he curled around you on the bed to peel it open.

 “You’re weirdly quiet,” you said once you got towards the end, “Did I hurt your—you know I don’t really think virgin is an insult, right?”

 He gave a dismissive wave. “Not offended by something I am. You’ve got to realise I just had an orgasm, so I have good reason to be all languid.”

 You shut the laptop and set it on his bedside table. “Do you think—if our friends knew we were soulmates—if they knew we haven’t had sex yet, they’d be weirded out? I mean, at least in 3-A’s dorm, the school is actively providing condoms and other birth control, since the admin’s realised it’s inevitable people are gonna fuck now that they have a life partner.”

 “Well, our classmates don’t know we’re soulmates, and they won’t ever know, so I don’t see a problem.” Monoma held out his arms and made grabby hands, so you lay down for him to hold you. “And I personally am enjoying the delayed gratification of the chase.”

 “Me, too.” You ran your fingers through his hair (very soft from his bougie shampoo and conditioner), and he leaned into your touch. “The only person who saw me on the way up was Kendo.”

 “Oh, God, did she hear you talking to me?”

 “She did not hear me talking to you.”

 He narrowed his eyes. “I feel like you’re leaving out crucial information.”

 “Perhaps,” you said, “To the best of my knowledge, they’re buying my excuse that I like the view from 3-B’s rooftop better than mine, so I don’t think they suspect I’m seeing you.”

 “Good. Very good.”

 “If anything,” you said, lowering your hand to stroke his cheekbone, “they might think you’re leaving me alone in comparison to the rest of my classmates. You never even copy my quirk during training.”

 His eyelashes fluttered against his skin when he closed his eyes slowly. “Why would I? It’s yours. I’m not gonna take it from you.”

 “But you wouldn’t take it from me; I’d still have it—”

 “I respect you too much to try to use it. I don’t want to learn how to use it, because that would mean I wouldn’t need you by my side in a fight.” He pulled you closer, his body heat seeping through your clothes. “You don’t need me to share it with you. It’s yours.”

 At your silence, he rolled his eyes and clicked his stupid tongue. “I don’t really have a quirk that’s truly mine, and I think that extends to my lot in life. My power depends on those around me, so if I’m alone—well. I’m useless. Which is another fucked-up reason why I like the soulmate mark so much, since—” He sucked in through his teeth. “—since I’ve never had anything of my own.”

 You held your breath, and then you opened your mouth without a plan—

 Monoma laughed—another marble in your pocket. “And before you can say anything about how you can’t own anyone and how I shouldn’t talk to anyone like that, I was trying to be poetic.”

 “I wasn’t gonna say that, Neito,” you said, sitting up a bit so that you could cup his face with both hands, “Do you really think that little of yourself?”

 He flipped his hair out of his eyes for dramatic effect, unsuccessfully. “Isn’t it cool and fun and sexy of me to need therapy?”

 “Only if you actually go to it,” you said, “You don’t need to feel insecure, baby, because you’re everything I could want—even though your value doesn’t depend on my opinion of you. Let me backtrack. That wasn’t the best reason.” You lay facing the ceiling with your arms behind your head, shifting a bit so that he could get another peach gummy, and once he’d popped one in his mouth, he held another up to your lips, which you accepted.

 “You’re taking a concerning amount of time to think of my positive traits.”

 “It’s not that,” you said, chewing on one side of your mouth, “I’m trying to think of how to say it. I’m not as good with words as you are. Okay, listen. First off, you don’t have to do anything to be worthwhile. You’re worthwhile just existing. You’re good already. You don’t have to do anything more. You’re—fuck, I’m not good at this.” You cringed, scrunching your face up—but Monoma was quiet and didn’t interrupt. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something better later, but right now, I can’t think of anything that tells me how good of a man you are is that I wanna be around you more than anyone else. Hell, I’d rather be around you than be by myself, and I love spending time by myself. You—”

 You frantically glanced to see if he were handling this well, and the idiot was lying there with a peach gummy halfway out of his mouth, puckering his lips as if to offer it to you.

 You leaned forward to take it, but before you did, you said, “And I can’t get over how much Eri likes you, too, and that Aizawa-sensei trusts you to take care of her when he’s off campus. That kid is cautious around everybody, and she’s relaxed around you.” Feeling a bit foolish, you kissed him lightly in the process of taking the peach gummy from him.

 Monoma stared at you, blinking profusely, like he was going to cry, while you chewed and swallowed.

 “Are you okay?”

 “I think you do know what to say. You’re good. Thank you. I’ll work on things, I guess. I can try.” He stuck out his lower lip. “But I can’t betray my otherwise superior exterior towards 3-A—”

 “Oh, yeah? They’ll realise you’re a big ol’ softie if I tell them we’re soulmates.”

 “Hey,” Monoma said, frowning, and after a moment, he tilted his head, his hair splaying across his pillow. “I have a proposal—”

 “Again?”

 “The most romantic one I can fathom,” he said, taking your hands and fiddling with your fingers, “Do you wanna watch Lord of the Rings? Extended edition?”

 ***

 Out in the courtyard, the leaves were changing with the seasons.

 “Hey,” said Jirou, scrolling through her phone, “It looks like Tainted Love might get parole.”

 Yaoyorozu lifted her head from Jirou’s shoulder. “So soon?”

 “She already got moved to a lower-security prison two months ago,” said Uraraka, reaching across the picnic blanket to the plate of matcha mochi, “So they’ve already decided that she’s not much of a threat.”

 “You’re joking,” came Shinsou’s voice from your left, dropping his backpack next to you on the blanket, with Todoroki, Kaminari, and Monoma in tow. “After what she did to us? Some of us are fucking dying because of the eroding lifespan side effect.” Shinsou sat cross-legged next to you and propped up his backpack for you to lean on for back support, and the other guys integrated themselves with the rest of the picnicking group—stragglers from 3-A and 3-B after school ended for the day, a sort of tea-party-picnic mostly arranged by Yaoyorozu before exams next week.

 Daring to shoot you an apologetic look, Monoma sat at a distance from you, slightly subdued as he crouched next to Kendo and Shoda.

 “Yeah, my chest hurts at odd intervals,” said Kaminari, holding a hand over his heart, “I think I need to find my soulmate and get laid immediately.”

 “Soulmates aren’t all about sex,” said Shinsou with a scowl.

 Kaminari shrugged. “They could be.”

 “But Tainted Love is getting parole?” You held your teacup between your palms, letting the heat of your raspberry tea keep them warm. “What’s the source?”

 “Uh, looks like Midnight-sensei and Present Mic-sensei were in a press conference this morning about the group that she’s a part of,” said Jirou, “Midnight-sensei’s been working with the authorities on getting information out of Tainted Love, since their quirks are both reliant on inhalants—and Tainted Love seems to like her.”

 “I need to talk to Tainted Love,” said Kaminari between bites of some sort of biscuit that Bakugou had apparently baked last night, “I wanna ask if there’s any way that she could, like, speed up the soulmate identification process. I can’t find mine for the life of me.”

 Jirou shared a look with Yaoyorozu, and she said, “That’s because no one would claim you, even if you had a few more brain cells.”

 “You misunderstand me, Jirou! Being a himbo is the basis of my appeal!” Kaminari slapped the back of his hand to his forehead and screwed up his face. “If I got any smarter, then no one would want me for me, because I wouldn’t be true to myself. Big sigh,” he said, actually saying the words, “Maybe those of us who are unclaimed should just hook up and rotate around until we feel right.” Kaminari’s voice carried across the picnic area (his dramatics made Kendo snort).

 Shinsou flicked Kaminari’s forehead. “When you stop being a pig, maybe someone’ll want you. To be loved, you first have to be lovable.”

 “You know, I don’t think that’s quite true.”

 Everyone’s heads turned towards Monoma, looking oddly constipated and halfway into a scone, which was crumbling to dust in his tense grip. “I don’t think you have to do anything to be loved. I think—” He seemed to notice that he was destroying his scone, and he set it on his paper plate. “—I think that you’re worth loving just because you are.”

 Brow furrowed, Shinsou glanced between you and Monoma. “Dude,” he called towards him, “Are you okay?”

 “Sorry, Monoma. I love you, man, but you’re not my type,” said Kaminari, popping the collar on his blazer, “even though we’re both unclaimed so far. You know who else is unclaimed?” You watched in horror as Kaminari actually and literally rolled over from his spot on the picnic blanket closer to you. “Hi,” he said, staring up at you, “I believe you’re also dying due to heartache?”

 Shinsou tensed next to you—and you didn’t even look at Monoma; you knew he wouldn’t want you to give anything away.

 “Uh.” You glanced around for help from anyone, but everyone was also weirdly frozen and put out by this. “I mean, I am. That’s true, I guess, since I don’t have a soulmate. But—”

 “Would you like not to be?” Kaminari folded his arms behind his head to grin up at you.

 But a tight-fisted Monoma had already stood up and walked stiffly over to where you were on the blanket, and he knelt next to you, nudging Kaminari away with his knee. He started to unbuckle his belt.

 At the clink of his buckle and soft zip of his uniform pants, the stillness overtaking everyone shattered: essentially, a collective flinch passed over the onlookers, with more than a few choice swears coming from Jirou, and Kaminari scrambled away.

 “My dude, what the fuckingeth—”

 Monoma—you slapped your hand over your eyes, already embarrassed—pulled down his pants enough that everyone could see your name along his v-line. “She and I are soulmates,” said Monoma, looking calmly as he could at Kaminari, “Hope that clears things up.”

 His jaw slack, Kaminari glanced at the soulmark, at Monoma’s unwavering expression, and back at the soulmark. “You have your soulmark right on your cum gutters? You’re so lucky.”

 Yaoyorozu had to clutch her stomach she was laughing so hard; Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose. Jirou could hardly talk for laughing, composing herself enough to stutter out, “You—you call them cum gutters?”

 “Like I would know that real term.”

 It was nice, since the shock and attention shifted to roasting Kaminari alive. But now Monoma was sitting next to you, staring nervously into the teacup you handed him, and when you gently bumped his shoulder, all he did was take a sip, his hand shaking so that the porcelain clattered when he returned the cup to the saucer.

 “That was very brave of you,” you said softly, “Thank you for doing it.”

 He hummed, still looking into his teacup.

 “I guess I should congratulate you,” said Shinsou, shifting his attention away from the Does-Kaminari-Even-Know-About-Anatomy-What-About-the-Clitoris conversation, “So, congratulations.”

 You squinted at him. “You don’t sound surprised.”

 “You were right about 3-B’s dormitory having a better view from the roof,” said Shinsou, jerking his head to the side, “but I never saw you there. I think you’ve shocked everyone else, though. Check out Midoriya over there.”

 He was frantically glancing between you and Monoma, steam almost visibly blasting out of his ears as he tried to process it.

 Monoma huffed, and he finally allowed himself the beginnings of a smug grin. “Well, of course it’d be surprising for such a power couple to come out of the soulmate incident. It’s too perfect.”

 And when Mina started filming the picnic to post on the third years’ twitter, he made a point of kissing you in front of everyone, as proof recorded until the end of time.

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz

[mintsbubbletea]

𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨 - 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐃'𝐬

Word Count: 773

Contains:teasing, sparring, flashing, boobies

Proof read and Edited

A/N: @slayfics Since you're going through shit I decided to write the fics I promise hehehe muah also for the other readers you may just plug yourself in.

slays oc

As the school day slowly passed, the students of class 1-A were hard at work training. Each student was paired with a partner, their hero costumes on and sweat dripping from their brows as they sparred and practiced their quirks. Kansa and Shinso stood across from each other, both breathing heavily after finishing their sparring session. With a soft pant, Kansa caught the water bottle that Shinso tossed her way. She took a deep drink, relishing the coolness that quenched her thirst. "You're still taking it easy on me," she chuckled, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead. 

Shinso opened his own water bottle and took a long sip before shaking his head adamantly. "I'm not holding back. I'm fighting just as I would with anyone else." He took another swig of water before continuing, "You're just getting better every day." 

Kansa scoffed playfully, setting her water bottle down. "Yeah right," she retorted. "You expect me to believe that I beat you fair and square in each round?"

Shinso shrugged nonchalantly, taking another sip of his drink. But Kansa wasn't satisfied. With a soft smirk, she spoke up again, making her true thoughts known. "I still don't trust you. Maybe you're just weak," she taunted. Shinso's eyebrow raised in response, knowing full well that she was just trying to get under his skin. "I'm not weak," he said firmly, setting down his bottle as Kansa stepped closer to him.

But Kansa's smirk only grew wider, her finger jabbing at Shinso's chest as she continued to provoke him. "Like hell, you aren't. You're weak, just admit it." Her words were like daggers, piercing through his armor and chipping away at his composure.

Determined not to back down, Shinso tightened his grip on her wrist when she poked at him once more. "Do you want me to prove that I'm not? Is that what you want?" His voice was low and dangerous, his eyes glinting with an intensity that mirrored the fire behind them.

Their standoff continued, each one refusing to give in to the other's will. In that moment, it seemed as if anything could happen between these two volatile individuals.

"Yeah, that's what I've been trying to tell you this whole time," she said with exasperation. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, determined to make him understand her point. Kansa's muscles tensed as she shifted into her fighting stance, her feet planted firmly on the ground. Shinso mirrored her movements, his eyes never leaving hers.

They began sparring, fists and feet flying through the air as they dodged and countered each other's attacks. Kansa whipped out her weapon, a long, thin whip that crackled through the air. But Shinso was too quick for her, easily evading her strikes. He let out a low chuckle as he effortlessly maneuvered around her.

In a split second, he was behind her, his strong arms wrapping around her torso in a firm hold. Kansa grunted as she struggled against his grasp, trying to break free. She elbowed him in the ribs, but as she did so, the laces on her top came undone. With a loud ripping sound, her top burst open, revealing her bare chest.

Kansa gasped in shock and quickly covered herself with one arm while using the other to try and fix her top. Shinso's gaze turned downwards to see what had caused her reaction. His eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected sight before him.

His cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as he hastily released her, his hands flying away from her chest. Kansa quickly crossed her arms over her exposed skin, a loud, uninhibited laugh escaping her lips. "Shit, I'm so sorry," he stammered, his voice tinged with panic as he reached for the scarf around his neck. He carefully wrapped it around her body, making sure not to look as he covered her up. Kansa shook her head, smiling mischievously as she adjusted the scarf. "If you wanted to see my tits, all you had to do was ask. I wouldn't have minded," she teased, locking eyes with the embarrassed Shinso who couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze. "You didn't have to rip my top like that." She gestured towards the torn fabric peeking out from under the scarf.

The words tumbled out of his mouth in a flustered jumble, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "No! That's not what-" he attempted to say, but she cut him off with a playful smile, struggling to contain her laughter.

"Joking," she finally managed to say, still grinning mischievously. "But hey, thanks for the scarf."

"It's the least I can do," 

tags: @slayfics @tootiecakes234 @tardis3202 @just-a-hopeless-romantic @ayunakatsukiwolfhashira Lmk if you wanna be added 🐸

[sweet-honey-tears]

Bartender Shinso

Shinso x Reader

Warning: Very Suggestive themes, drinking, mention of being self-conscious, pet names (Kitty, kitten) the author doesn't know much about bartending

Bartender Shinso wears all black. The fabric was just tight enough to show his muscular arms. His fingers are decorated with rings. His ears pierced. He has a few bracelets on his wrist one with a cat. He tells you his little sister gave it to him. His heartwarming against the feather dangerously attractive persona he possesses.

He winks at you right before he ALMOST hands you a drink. Holding just out of your reach and asking for your ID.

“Imma need to see some ID there pretty girl~”

No, he knows you're old enough, but he finds the act to be fun. He watches you shuffling through your wallet, and purse, trying to find that damn piece of plastic. And when you show it to him, he doesn’t even look just hums and gives you the drink. That damn bastard.

When you’re out with friends, he’ll watch you closely- in his defense, he does that with a lot of groups. And it’s not in a creepy way, it’s to ensure that the group stays together- no one disappears without someone(him) noticing. With you, he’ll watch you drunk or not.

On nights you’re barely drinking, he flirts with you endlessly as you sit and watch your friends, nursing your first drink. (Must be the dedicated driver or something he’ll think) Throwing back some flirts, but mostly telling him to stop, your face becomes red. Shinso knows you don’t mean it, not with that tone. Plus you still seek him out, passing the more empty sections just to get to his.

Then on days, you're wasted, sitting at the bar, Shinso flirts a little less. He doesn’t like your responses when you are drunk- at least not right now. Maybe when you’re both more comfortable and… possibly an item(dating), he’ll flirt back. He remembers when you got wasted and flirted with him the very first time. Shinso jumped right in, flirting and teasing you back just as much. And then the next time he saw you, you looked embarrassed and avoided eye contact. Shin felt like shit.

He’ll talk to you about anything, a past relationship or a cat you saw in the alley.

Shinso will cut you off some days, two drinks before your drunken state starts.

“Nah kitten, not tonight.”

He’ll say. Is it in his jurisdiction? No. But you don’t say anything, just fake pout at him. His fingers brush your jaw as he brushes a strand of hair away.

“Don’t pout at me, kitten.”

Shinso laughed the day your friend Kaminari came over. Throwing himself on you and speaking in drunk hiccups.

“Oh fuck…this is that bartender you’re talking about. Holy shit… what I would give to have him pounding-“⚡️

“KAMI!”

Shinso just laughed at the blonde's behavior.

The man knows he’s attractive- it took a while to get there but he’s finally there.

Shinso will snap at you sometimes, not angrily just annoyed. He knows that look, the one you get when he compliments you. How you’ll own play what he says, sometimes fully denying it.

“Are you drunk or just stupid?”

“W-what?”

“I know that look. You’re a pretty thing and I’ll pound it into you if I have to.” That look and tone shut you right up. A bright blush takes over your cheeks as you look away.

Then the day came when you, in a sober state, held a hand out. A napkin with your phone number rested in between your finger.

“You got trash kitty? You know where the trash can is.”

“Uh no-I uh… it’s for you..”

“You got me a napkin?” He teases.

“What?” You say dumbly, snapped out of your confident state. You flush and pull your hand away, looking down. Your voice was so soft his heart aches. “You know what forget it. It’s nothing-“

Shinso snatches it from your fingers.

“No no, you said it’s mine.” He takes it from your fingers “and I take what’s mine.” He glances at you.

[thecowboykatsuki-anon]

Dammit after that sketch I’m thinking about pulling on Shinso’s hair while he goes down on you, unable to help yourself from grinding your cunt against that pretty black piercing on his tongue, even though you know he likes to take his time.

And finally he just sits back, looking up at you like he’s bored with your antics and goes “sit still.” 🫠

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Know No Evil | Chapter 13 Chapter 13 | quiet rush⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

Bambi-sensei, a round, cheerful woman with the unmistakably floppy ears of a deer mutant, beamed at you. "Y/N, darling! You're a lifesaver! This presentation file... well, let's just say it wouldn't have made it through the next period without you." Her voice, a gentle coo, was the exact opposite of the cold, calculating thoughts swirling in your head.

You offered a polite bow, a practiced smile still plastered on your face. "It was no issue at all, Bambi-sensei. Happy to help." The words tasted like ash in your mouth.

With a final chipper, "Doe-lightful! Thank you so much, dear! Now, run along to lunch. You must be famished!" Bambi-sensei bustled back into the staff room, the door swinging shut with a soft thud.

You stood there for a beat, the mask you wore for the world finally slipping.

The smile vanished, replaced by a deep scowl. Your eyes, usually sparkling with manufactured cheer, morphed into black voids, an endless spiral of darkness reflecting your true nature.

The solitude of the empty hallway was your sanctuary. No need for the relentless act, no need to charm, manipulate, or pretend to be something you weren't.

In the quiet emptiness, you could simply be yourself—a powerful entity with plans far grander than fitting in with a bunch of hero wannabes.

Glancing at a nearby clock on the wall, you noted the lunch break was quickly dwindling. Lunch. Usually, you'd already be eating in the cafeteria by now, but Kan-sensei had snagged you before homeroom ended, delegating a few last-minute representative tasks. A small price to pay, you suppose, for the fleeting moment of solitude.

This stolen time was precious—a chance to strategize your next move, to unravel the mysteries of this world and see how it could serve your ultimate purpose.

But for now, you allowed yourself a fleeting moment of indulgence, letting your mind drift back to the indigo-haired boy you'd met not long ago.

Since your encounter, you'd caught fleeting glimpses of him around the school, his disheveled, purple hair and matching eyes like a beacon in the sea of U.A. uniforms. You even managed to formally introduce yourself—a calculated move, of course, fueled by a growing curiosity about his Quirk.

His name was Shinso Hitoshi, a student in General Studies Class C.

When you'd first learned this, a question had snagged in your mind. His Quirk, mind control through spoken words, seemed powerful—not entirely dissimilar to your own abilities, yet here he was, relegated to a class considered less prestigious.

The answer came swiftly, however, when a few students had sauntered by as you and Shinso spoke, their faces contorted in disgust. A harsh hiss of "villain" scraping past your ears as they hurried away.

This, pissed you off.

The blatant prejudice against "villainous" Quirks, regardless of their potential for good, were seemingly pre-labeled.

You scoffed—the hero system here seemed as flawed as the one you left behind. Here, power was categorized into neat little boxes of "good" and "evil," ignoring the complexities that lay within.

Villains were villains simply because their Quirks were deemed unsuitable for heroism, even if those Quirks could be incredibly useful. It was a nonsensical system, one you couldn't quite wrap your head around.

After all, no one chose the Quirk they were born with.

But the real sting came from the similarity between your power and Shinso's Quirk. The whispered insults directed at him felt like a personal attack. Shinso, someone with such a powerful and versatile ability, would let himself be ostracized and relegated to a "lesser" class because of societal prejudice filled you with disgust.

The very idea of him limiting himself because of the opinions of individuals you regarded as even lower than bugs was infuriating.

A sudden, piercing blare ripped you from your thoughts.

The school security alarm shrieked to life, its automated voice declaring, "There has been a Level 3 security breach. All students and faculty are to evacuate to designated safe zones immediately!"

You don't react; you simply continue your pace. As you rounded the corner, a figure barreled into you, the force sending you both spiraling to the ground. A startled gasp escaped your lips, and for a split second, your eyes widened in a flash of a primal, terrifyingly cold fury.

You almost forgot yourself—power practically bubbling beneath your skin, screaming to tear apart the bug that dared touch you.

In a second, your practiced smile slips back on your face, your eyes sparkling with manufactured concern. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?" But as you took in the figure you collided with, the practiced smile began to crack.

This wasn't a UA student; no uniform adorned their form.

This intruder, the cause of the apparent security breach, was unlike anything you'd ever seen before. The figure was shrouded in a dark hoodie, pulled low over their head, obscuring their face completely.

You barely had a chance to take in their shadowy form before they let out a gruff sound, a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. They scrambled to their feet and brushed past you, their movements purposeful and urgent.

Everything about them screamed "up to no good," and despite the blaring alarm and the undeniable threat this intruder posed, you made no move to stop them, nor did you question their motives. You weren't here to play hero, not today at least.

A sardonic smile played on your lips for a fleeting moment.

This unexpected turn of events—a security breach at UA? Now this was entertainment!

Before you could even blink, the halls were flooded with students. Panic surged through the crowd as everyone scrambled for the nearest exit, pushing past one another in a desperate bid to escape.

The once-orderly hallway dissolved into a cacophony of shouts, shoving, and the ever-present wail of the alarm. It grated on your nerves.

Here you were, in a supposed hero school, surrounded by students who were literally training to be heroes, and yet, the first sign of trouble sent them into a mindless panic.

Idiots.

Their fear was a tangible thing—a thick fog of chaos that clogged the narrow corridor. It did nothing but cause problems, especially for you.

Caught in the surging tide of bodies, you were squished against a nearby wall, your front was pressed tightly against the cold plaster. The press of humanity was suffocating, stealing the air from your lungs. Your arms were pinned at your sides, useless.

You tried to yell, to scream at them to calm down, but your voice was a mere squeak lost in the deafening roar. Frustration bubbled within you, a bitter counterpoint to the rising panic.

This blind terror was exactly why you weren't here to play hero.

These students, so eager to wear the hero's mantle, couldn't even control their basic instincts in the face of a threat.

Pathetic.

Just as you felt yourself reaching your limit, on the verge of exposing everything by using your power to control the crowd and restore order, a shadow fell over you. The relentless shoves and pushes ceased abruptly, replaced by a comforting sense of solidity. Relief washed over you as you looked up to see a figure towering above you.

A pair of mismatched eyes, one icy blue and the other a smoky grey, stared down at you with a bored expression. The figure was a moderately tall and well-built boy, his age evident in the slight leanness to his muscles. His short hair brushed his neck in an perfect, ordly fashion, a stark contrast to the controlled chaos unfolding around you.

It was strangely split down the middle, one side a snowy white and the other a fiery crimson—an unusual color combination that probably hinted at something extraordinary. A stark burn scar ran down the left side of his face, reaching from his hairline to halfway down his cheek.

Recognition clawed at the back of your mind.

You cast your memory back, searching for the name that constantly popped up in Bakugo's tirades as you walked home together (a self-imposed duty you'd undertaken). The explosive blond had spat out the name "Icy Hot" with a sneer. You vaguely recalled him mentioning it was the nickname he gave to some rival student named Todoroki in his class.

This wasn't just any student; he's apparently one of the top students in Class 1-A—even got in through recommendations.

You were jolted out of your thoughts as another harsh shove from the panicked crowd sent you crashing back against the wall, this time with your face pressed into the cold plaster. A muffled grunt escaped your lips, momentarily forgotten behind the growing surge of piercing anger.

However, the pressure immediately eased. You felt the firm press of muscle against your back as your 'pseudo shield' held himself a few inches away, creating a slight pocket of space for you to breathe.

He continued to shield you from the worst of the pushing throng, his bored expression unchanging.

The cacophony around you slowly began to dwindle as the crowd shuffled towards the designated exits. The blaring alarm still cut through the air, but with less urgency. Taking a deep breath, you straightened your clothes, the awkward situation momentarily forgotten.

"Thank you," you offered, turning towards your unlikely savior with a polite bow. Your practiced smile returned, albeit a little strained from the ordeal. "I appreciate you for... intervening."

Now that the immediate crisis had passed, it was time to establish some semblance of normalcy.

With your usual gentle smile in place, you extended your hand towards Todoroki. "Before we depart, I should introduce myself. I'm Akuma Y/N."

He gave a curt nod, his mismatched eyes lingering on you for a fleeting moment before flicking back to the dispersing crowd. "Todoroki Shoto," he confirmed in a monotone voice, devoid of any warmth.

You hummed in acknowledgement, a spark of interest igniting within you. You knew of the top pro-hero, Endeavor, mostly due to his hulking frame and blazing flames that reminded you so much of the pet hellhound, Cerberus, you had back in Hell.

Could this Todoroki be related to him?

This Todoroki, with his unusual hair and powerful Quirk, was definitely someone to keep an eye on. Mentally making a note to file him away for further investigation, you offered another grateful nod.

Just as you turned to leave, his voice stopped you. "Wait," Todoroki's voice was barely a murmur, almost lost in the fading clamor of the hallway.

You turned back, raising an eyebrow in question. "Yes, Todoroki-kun?"

He hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowed in an uncharacteristic display of confusion. "Izuku... and even Bakugo," he began, his voice low and hesitant, "they talk about you a lot."

"Oh?" you replied, a hint of amusement flickering in your eyes.

Midoriya's talking about you? Now that was a surprise. You'd expected much from your pet—in passing, of course—so you couldn't help but imagine what the hero-obsessed boy had to say.

"Being mentioned so often by strong students, can only mean one thing..." Todoroki continued, his voice gaining a hint of conviction, "...You're stronger than them both."

You stifled a laugh at his declaration. The idea of Bakugo and Midoriya being the benchmarks for strength seemed almost comical.

Here you were, someone who could manipulate entire crowds with a thought, and yet they were the ones considered strong? Hilarious.

But you kept your amusement hidden, tilting your head in mock contemplation and tapping a finger against your lips.

"Stronger, huh?" you finally hummed, your voice laced with a playful ambiguity. "I suppose you'll just have to wait and see, Todoroki-kun."

With that, you offered a final, smile before turning and disappearing into the throng of students, leaving Todoroki with more questions than answers.

A/N: the way i just wrote several chapters out of order is insane. guess i couldnt wait for the exciting parts 😂😂 so yeah, ignore if a lil detail don't add up in any future chapters🥴 anywho, short chapter today, but tomorrow will malke up for it, it'll be a little longer ❤️

[sweetnsour1]

8:45

Fluff, Bakugou x female reader

Part of the Cute as hell Collection

“Dude. She was so scary.”

“Nah, it was so manly!”

“Oh my god! She wasn’t manly…she was a beautiful bad ass bitch.” Mina chopped at the air between her and Bakugou.

You groaned, continuing to avoid the red gaze that was undeniably piercing the back of your head. You didn’t have the heart to truly glare at any of the blabbermouths fighting to tell the story. You should’ve known they wouldn’t keep the fiasco of a training exercise a secret…although you had literally asked them to not bring it up.

All it took was a single “What I miss?” from the returning work study hero to dislodge the promise of silence from all three of their fucking brains. You narrowed your eyes, wondering which one of them had the brain cell at the moment.

Kaminari jumped at Mina, swinging his apron strings Eraserhead-style as she shifted targets, swiping at the giggling blonde. Kirishima played the role of "capture scarf" and snuck behind her to loosely tie an apron around her waist, pinning her arms to her side. Kaminari put a hand over his mouth to finish the costume, claiming victory for a moment before Mina busted out and attacked.

You gonna tell me what happened or do I have to keep watchin' this shit?"

You leaned into the chest behind you, sighing as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"I beat Shinso."

"And?" His arms wound around your waist, not far from where your new bruises were.

"And...I kept beating him...a bit longer than I should've." His grip tightened.

"What'd he do?"

"How do you know he did something? Maybe I just lost control?" His hold tightened long enough for your sharp intake of breath to give away the temporary weakness of your ribs.

"He did something."

You smiled, settling deeper into his embrace, but kept your gaze on his friends bouncing around the kitchen. Kaminari was now half lidded on the floor, back against the fridge, and showered in the magnets he had clung to as he fell. Mina dusted herself off and dragged him out of the room by his feet. Kirishima was doubled over, clutching the island as his laugh echoed through the kitchen.

"It's stupid. I shouldn't have let him piss me off." You hummed as he placed a kiss on your neck. He didn't pull away, leaving his lips hovering near your ear.

"What did he do, beautiful?"

"He used your voice."

"And what'd he say that made you so scary?" You giggled as he pinched at your side, lower than the bruises he had already memorized the position of.

"That I wasn't going to win." He huffed, spinning your stool around to finally face him.

"I'd never say that shit." You laughed at the scowl etched on his pretty features. You ran your thumbs across his brows and forehead to smooth him out.

"It wasn't even just that. I love that sound, your sound...and he was gonna' fuckin' ruin it with his face." It was his turn to laugh at the way you scrunched up in distaste. His turn to run his thumbs across your brows and nose to smooth you out.

"Fuckin' missed you." He tilted your gaze upwards with a couple of fingers under your chin, giving you a perfect view of the hungry look in his tired eyes. "How bout you come upstairs and make the sounds I love?"

Masterlist

[sepptember]

·˚ ꒰ BNHA ꒱ ˊˎ — navigation.

I might write for more than just these characters, these are jist the only ones I could think of off the top of my head.

series / multiple characters

cherry bomb :: smau

denki kamanari

night out :: moodboard. 200 celly. reader has not set look.

beauty school :: smau. gn!reader. telling them about your new piercing.

ejirou kirishima

dysphoria :: smau. ftm!reader.

asking to borrow their clothes when your dysphoria hits.

beauty school :: smau. gn!reader.

telling them about your new piercing.

hanta sero

crush headcanons :: gn!reader. fluff.

headcanons on what I think would happen if Sero had a crush on his reader and how it is handled.

dysphoria :: smau. ftm!reader.

asking to borrow their clothes when your dysphoria hits.

beauty school :: smau. gn!reader.

telling them about your new piercing.

hitoshi shinso

beach date :: moodboard. 200 celly. reader has no set look.

dysphoria :: smau. ftm!reader.

asking to borrow their clothes when your dysphoria hits.

izuku midoria

dysphoria :: smau. ftm!reader.

asking to borrow their clothes when your dysphoria hits.

katsuki bakugo

boxer!katsuki :: moodboard. 200 celly. reader has no set look.

dysphoria :: smau. ftm!reader.

asking to borrow their clothes when your dysphoria hits.

beauty school :: smau. gn!reader.

telling them about your new piercing.

shota aizawa

shoto todoroki

say anything :: gn!reader. smau & 0.2k wc.

an smau + a blurb of shoto todoroki meeting his long-distance partner. part of my 200 celebration.

dysphoria :: smau. ftm!reader.

asking to borrow their clothes when your dysphoria hits.

beauty school :: smau. gn!reader.

telling them about your new piercing.

tenya iida

tear in my heart :: gn!reader. smau.

↳ everlong :: smau. part two.

iida thinks you're a little chaotic with a pinch of confusing, but you're managing to grow on him.

beauty school :: smau. gn!reader.

telling them about your new piercing.

tamaki amajiki

[angeliicheartt]

HIHI!!I was wondering if you could do class 1-a with a goth reader (and Mabye shinso please?🙏🫶) SORRY IF ITS A BOTHERRR!!🫶

ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ɢᴏᴛʜ!

includes: katsuki bakugo, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hanta sero, shoto todoroki, and hitoshi shinso

fem!goth!reader

a/n: i loveee this, i dont know too much about the goth music culture so this is mainly talking about the style and makeup and such <3

✞ before we begin, i imagine reader being friends with jirou, tokoyami and bakugo (alternative crew)

✞ everything below is romantic!

ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ

✞ THE COUPLE FIT CHECKS !!!

✞ i like to think bakugo collects rings & chains & such just can't usually wear them (rings specifically due to his quirk), so he offers them to you to wear

✞ has asked for you to do his eyeliner idc

✞ his parents are designers, he has good taste, let him assist you in picking out your outfit !

ᴇɪᴊɪʀᴏ ᴋɪʀɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ

✞ THE hype man, as always.

✞ also has asked for eyeliner once or twice (but will only refer to it as guyliner)

✞ occasionally wants you to add a pop of red to your outfits, thinks it looks like you're matching him.

✞ loves seeing your all decked out look as well as ur casual look (he's a loverboy)

ᴅᴇɴᴋɪ ᴋᴀᴍɪɴᴀʀɪ

✞ thinks ur sexy (IM SORRY I HAD TO SAY IT)

✞ likes to have matching accents on your guys' fits (his bracelet matches ur earring, stuff like that)

✞ likes playing with your jewelry (like a cat)

✞ accidentally shocks u a lot cos of your jewelry/piercings and u make him flustered

ʜᴀɴᴛᴀ ꜱᴇʀᴏ

✞ would buy more black clothes to match w you !! (and for you to borrow)

✞ loves to go shopping with you, will carry everything happily

✞ tries to learn more about goth subculture to talk with you !

✞ ur own personal camera man

✞ very morticia and gomez vibes

ꜱʜᴏᴛᴏ ᴛᴏᴅᴏʀᴏᴋɪ

✞ wants you to pick out his outfits (he absolutely loves ur style)

✞ starts wearing more jewelry cos of u

✞ if u wear rings, he's playing with them as he holds ur hand

✞ uses his dad's card and takes u to the mall for shopping sprees

ʜɪᴛᴏꜱʜɪ ꜱʜɪɴꜱᴏ

✞ thinks of u as a black cat gf

✞ lets u try new makeup styles on him

✞ loves listening to ur music

✞ guard dog energy

✞ another eyeliner man, he will ask you to do his.

[goodwhump-temp]

Izuku Midoriya Whump | MHA

Ep.01 - Crying x2, bullied x10, bruised (flashback), scared Ep.02 - Scared, suicidal, crying, breakdown Ep.03 - Crying x3, training torture, breakdown, collapses, carried, trips Ep.04 - Crying x2, arm busted, falling from the sky, unconscious, nervous Ep.05 - Finger busted Ep.06 - Knocked down (explosion), bullied Ep.07 - Knocked down (explosion), hit from the back, punched, thrown, crying, arm busted, passes out Ep.08 - Unconscious, weak, sling Ep.09 - Squeezed/pushed around Ep.10 - Fingers busted, protected Ep.11 - [ep. includes Aizawa whump❗] Ep.13 - Legs busted, crying, bandaged Ep.15 - Paralyzed fear Ep.16 - Crying Ep.19 - Crying Ep.20 - Fingers busted, punched x2, manhandled Ep.23 - Finger busted x5, arm busted, pain, unconscious Ep.24 - Bandaged, right arm shattered, hand disfigured Ep.25 - [ep. includes Bakugo, Shoto, Iida whump❗] Ep.27 - Punched (back) x2, pinned, splat on the wall x2, bloody nose, exhausted Ep.28 - Thrown x2, bloody nose Ep.29 - Small cut grazed, paralyzed [ep. includes Iida whump❗] Ep.30 - Leg sliced, arm hurt, exhausted, carried, face kicked, SNATCHED Ep.31 - Bandaged Ep.33 - Slips Ep.37 - Backhanded/knocked down, punched, used as human hammer, thrown, spine-slammed, pain Ep.38 - Threatened, choked, terrified Ep.40 - Blown off cliff, exhausted, nuts punched, comforted Ep.41 - Punched Ep.42 - Gut-kicked into wall, bleeding forehead, knocked down, arm busted, crushed Ep.43 - Carried Ep.44 - Arms bandaged [ep. includes Tokoyami whump❗] Ep.45 - Knocked down, tumbles x2, devastated, ambulance-care, says 2-days of unconsciousness/fever, crying, guilt Ep.46 - Arms disfigured, punched Ep.48 - Paralyzed fear Ep.49 - Crying Ep.50 - Punched, crying, comforted Ep.51 - Crying Ep.52 - Knocked down (explosion) Ep.54 - Pinned, scratched Ep.60 - Crying Ep.61 - Knee'd in the face, thrown, angry, pinned, restrained Ep.63 - Gut-punched Ep.66 - Slams into wall, bloody nose, exhausted Ep.67 - Bottling feelings/can't concentrate Ep.72/73 - [eps. includes Kirishima whump❗] Ep.75 - Knocked down, pinned by spikes, spike grazes [ep includes Lemillion & Nighteye whump❗] Ep.76 - Multiple cuts, bleeding, 100% power/extreme pain (delay) Ep.77 - Power overload/dying, crying [ep. includes Lemillion, Nighteye, & Overhaul whump❗] Ep.83 - Fingers-internal bleeding Ep.84 - Thrown x2, shot with beam, stuck holding beam up Ep.85 - Knocked down, knocked unconscious, pinned, thrown x2, kicked Ep.90 - Vision Ep.98 - New power/uncontrollable, panic, vision, slapped x2 Ep.99 - [ep. includes Shinso whump❗] Ep.101 - Paralyzed fear (interview) Ep.105 - [ep. includes Shoto trauma❗] Ep.106 - [ep. includes Natsu whump❗] Ep.107 - Head stabbed with hat, bleeding [ep. includes Aizawa trauma❗] Ep.108 - [ep. includes Shigaraki trauma❗] Ep.117 - [ep. includes Shigaraki whump❗] Ep.118 - Uneasy Ep.120 - Protected [ep. includes Aizawa whump❗] Ep.121 - Arm bit Ep.122 - Knocked back, angry, crying, arms busted x2 [ep. includes Aizawa & Hawk whump❗] Ep.123 - Feral, pinned, protected [ep. includes Bakugo whump❗] Ep.124 - Body exhausted [ep. includes Dabi trauma❗] Ep.125 - Body exhausted, knocked back Ep.126 - Shard headache pain x2, passes out, knocked down, body exhaustion Ep.128 - Bandaged, comatose Ep.129 - [ep. includes Hawk trauma & whump❗] Ep.130 - Coma cont. Ep.132 - Hospital flashback, scars Ep.134 - Gut-punched, bullet grazed x2 Ep.135 - Suicidal/depressed, trampled, confronted Ep.136 - Intervention; depressed, restrained x3, thrown, emotion anguish, pierced ice wall, guilt, body exhausted, crying, scared, collapse, passes out Ep.137 - Scared, mental breakdown Ep.138 - Comforted