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winxanity-ii · 2 months ago

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RESONANCE

ship: various!bnha x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 5.5k a/n: just wanted to spit out a lil one-shot, not sure if I'll make a full fic from this but who knows lolol; tell me what y'all think…

★·.·´🇲‌🇾‌ 🇭‌🇪‌🇷‌🇴‌ 🇦‌🇨‌🇦‌🇩‌🇪‌🇲‌🇮‌🇦‌/🇧‌🇳‌🇭‌🇦‌/🇲‌🇭‌🇦‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

All your life, people gravitated to you.

It was something that felt almost like gravity—a pull that made others orbit around you, with secrets and vulnerabilities spilling out like some cracked, overflowing dam.

They couldn't help it, and it wasn't something you actively tried to do either.

Your Quirk, Confidant, was a force of its own, turning you into an unwitting confessional booth for whoever happened to cross your path. Whether you were ready for it or not, they opened up.

There had been days when you tried to keep it off, to put up the wall and protect yourself from the sheer emotional weight that others dumped at your feet. But it took too much effort, too much focus to constantly repel that need in others.

If someone came to you, tearing up over a breakup or raging about the stress of everyday life, you'd let them; it was just easier to let it run its course.

And, sure, there weren't any physical drawback—no energy drained or migraines induced. But to you, there was a burden no one else seemed to recognize: the reboot.

Once someone started talking, your mind went into what you had nicknamed "short-reboot mode." It was like something within you flipped a switch, and suddenly, every part of you worked to cater to them.

Your eyes would track every shift in their expression, your ears catching every wobble in their voice. You'd analyze, break down every cue, every breath, until your responses flowed with practiced ease—the words that person needed to hear, the exact tone that made them relax.

Sometimes, you'd offer a soft, comforting touch. Other times, you'd say nothing at all, just be a presence there to anchor them.

When it was over, and they'd leave—well, that was when things got weird.

Not for them; no, for them it was almost as if a fog rolled over their memory of the whole thing. A protective influence that made the event seem far-off, unimportant, a comforting haze to keep them from fixating on you.

For you, though? You'd collapse in bed later on, mind swimming with everything you'd absorbed, while the Quirk worked behind the scenes to sort and compartmentalize every scrap of information.

It all got stored away—permanently—so you'd never forget.

And because of that, you hated it.

You hated how your brain worked on autopilot for everyone else, how every emotional exchange was something you'd retain forever while the small, everyday things slipped right through the cracks.

You'd put down your phone and lose it within minutes, or take things into a room one by one when you could easily grab everything at once. Your grandfather loved to tease you about it, always laughing as he cackled out, "Book sense, not a lick of common sense!"

Today, it was no different.

You groaned as you walked down the stairs from your bedroom, a yawn escaping your lips as you shuffled along.

You looked every bit as tired as you felt—oversized hoodie hanging loosely from your shoulders, the fabric wrinkled and slightly twisted, and your oversized socks pooling around your ankles.

Your clothes were a patchwork of dark shades, clinging to you in a way that made it clear you'd grabbed whatever was closest without a second thought. Your hair was pulled back into a lazy ponytail, secured with a shoelace of all things, because you couldn't find a single rubber band.

You sucked your teeth at the thought, recalling how bit by bit, you had given away every one of your hairbands over the last few weeks to others who needed them. "I just bought that bulk pack," you muttered under your breath, feeling the mild frustration bubble up as you ambled into the kitchen.

The moment you stepped into the bright atmosphere of the kitchen, it felt like you were walking into another world. The colors, the light, the very mood—all of it was the opposite of you. The kitchen was warm, sunlight pouring in through the curtains, highlighting the cheery yellow walls.

Your mother was already bustling around, her cotton candy pink hair tied neatly at the base of her neck, her slender form moving with practiced grace as she prepared breakfast.

Her skin was a deep, rich shade of brown, and her eyes were bright yellow, almost glowing, with small opal-like moles at the corners that caught the morning light. She looked like something from a storybook, too perfect for the mundane scene unfolding around her.

The moment she noticed you shuffling over, she gasped softly, a bright smile blooming across her face. "Good morning, ____~," she sang, her voice lilting and sweet. "Did you have a good rest?"

You grunted in response, barely managing to pull the chair out before plopping down into it, your face half-hidden by the hood of your sweatshirt.

"That's great, sweetie~," she chirped, entirely unfazed by your lack of enthusiasm. She set a plate of food in front of you, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your cheek. "Eat up. Your big brother will be taking you to school soon—you know how he gets about wanting you to be on time." She gave you one last gentle pat before twirling away, humming to herself, lost in her own vibrant little world.

It wasn't long before the rest of your family joined you. Your father and brother came down the stairs only seconds later, both of them just as bright and awake as your mother.

Your brother's footsteps were loud and purposeful as he approached, his hand ruffling your hair as he passed by. "Morning, sis," he said, his voice cheerful, a bright grin lighting up his face.

"Morning," you mumbled, barely looking up.

Your father followed, his broad shoulders taking up the space in the doorway for a moment as he stepped into the kitchen. His blue hair was tousled but neat, the same shade as the sky on a crisp morning. His green eyes were sharp but softened when he looked at you, a smile spreading across his face.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Good morning, little love," he said, his voice deep and warm, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

You sighed softly, nodding in response as they settled at the table.

Your mother moved between them, setting their plates down before finally taking a seat herself, her smile unwavering as she looked at all of you.

The scene was perfect, almost unreal in its harmony—the three of them chatting easily over breakfast, their voices blending together with the soft sound of birds chirping outside the window.

Even though it was a regular, cloudy day, the kitchen seemed filled with sunshine, the warmth radiating from your family like a beacon. Everything about the morning—the bright voices, the gentle smiles—made it feel mythical, as if you were living in a fairytale.

It was always like this: your family's moods almost too perfect, too light. How could they not be, though, when they had you? Built-in therapist, problem solver, always there to smooth over any tension, any hint of unease.

They could always be at their best because you carried the weight for them.

As everyone finished up, your brother stood, gathering the dishes and taking them to the sink. Your mother got up as well, moving to grab everyone's packed lunches for the day.

Your father turned to you, his gaze softening as he addressed you. "____," he started, his voice gentle but with a hint of something else—hesitation, maybe? "Could you come by my agency later after school? We've got a case... or, well, a patient. I could use your help again."

You hummed, a small sound of acknowledgment as you poked at the last bit of food on your plate. "Sure," you said, though the idea of it made your shoulders droop a little. It wasn't that you didn't want to help, but the thought of more people, more emotions, more weight, felt heavy already.

Your father's smile brightened, and he reached over, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, little love. You know it means a lot to me." He worked as a hero, and it wasn't uncommon for him to ask for your help.

He ran an agency called Constellation, and his quirk, Record, a photographic memory that worked both by touch and mentally, made him one of the best at what he did. He primarily worked with police and undercover heroes, solving cases that required an eye for detail that few others had.

Ever since you'd gained your quirk, he'd relied on you for the more delicate matters—the emotional weight of things that even he couldn't quite process alone.

A few seconds later, your brother returned, his grin blinding as he held out your backpack and lunch. "C'mon, sleepyhead," he said, his eyes bright with excitement. "I got your stuff. Let's go catch the train."

You pushed your chair back, standing up with a stretch. "Yeah, yeah," you muttered, taking the bag from him. You turned to your parents, waving lazily over your shoulder. Your mother and father stood side by side, your father's arm wrapped around your mother's waist. She towered over him with her lithe frame, his head just reaching her collarbones. "Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad."

"Bye, sweetheart!" your mother called, her voice as sunny as ever.

"Have a good day, little love," your father added, giving you one last smile before you followed your brother out the door.

The cool morning air hit you as your brother led the way down the sidewalk, his usual confident stride carrying you both towards the train station.

You glanced over at him, watching as he talked animatedly, his hands moving to emphasize whatever point he was making. He was always like this—full of energy, especially in the mornings, unlike you, who was still trying to wake up.

As you both settled into your seats on the train, your brother continued to talk, his voice carrying over the quiet hum of the train. He was telling you all about his third year at Shiketsu High, his eyes sparkling as he described how different and fast-paced everything was compared to the previous year.

He even started rambling about his work-study with Fatgum, who he mentioned was an alumnus of Shiketsu High, and his fellow collegues, some guys named Suneater and Red Riot.

You glanced at your brother as he spoke, taking in his features. He looked like a perfect mix of both your parents.

His hair was a blend of your mother's bright pink and your father's deep blue, swirling together like cotton candy, giving him a vibrant and almost ethereal look.

His eyes were a mesmerizing combination of green and yellow—a galaxy of colors that seemed to shift with his mood, as if reflecting the emotions he felt around him.

Scattered across the bridge of his nose were luminescent, opal-like freckles, glowing faintly in the light as he spoke. They weren't just decorative; they were part of his Quirk, Emotilink—which was inherited from your mother—would glow and shift in color depending on the emotions of those he touched, allowing him to feel the emotions of others.

Together, their abilities made them almost like human mood rings, their markings betraying the emotional states of anyone in their vicinity.

Your brother was tall and broad-shouldered, his husky build making him seem both strong and comforting. His skin tone was a perfect, ambiguous shade—not quite pale, not quite dark—striking a balance that made him stand out without fitting neatly into any one category.

He carried himself with a confidence that only seemed to amplify the presence of his quirk, his luminescent markings always a glowing reminder of what he could do.

You, on the other hand, looked nothing like the rest of your family.

When you were younger, you'd had your mother's yellow eyes and your father's blue hair. But after your Quirk had manifested, everything about you seemed to change.

Your features had shifted, becoming more subdued, less distinct, until you were left with an appearance that could only be described as forgettable. Your hair had dulled to a mousy brown, and your eyes had lost their vibrancy, now a muted shade that seemed to blend in with the rest of you.

Sometimes you wished your Quirk was just that—forgettableness. Maybe then you wouldn't feel the weight of everyone else's emotions pressing down on you.

You were pulled from your thoughts when your brother grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled you up from your seat. "Let's go," he said, his voice filled with his usual enthusiasm.

You barely had time to react before he was practically dragging you out of the train and towards the school.

It was a routine you were used to by now—your brother carrying you along, making sure you got where you needed to be without any issue.

He didn't even break a sweat as he deposited you in front of the school gates, his hands moving to smooth out your clothes and pat down your hair, completely uncaring of the looks you both were getting from the other students.

"Aaand... there!" he said, stepping back with a satisfied smile. He handed you your backpack, his grin widening. "Alright, sleepyhead, I'll meet you here after school to take you to Dad's agency, okay?"

You nodded, adjusting the straps of your backpack. "Yeah, okay," you replied, your voice barely louder than a mumble.

He bent down, staring you right in the face with a grin. "Have a great day, alright?" he said, his eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. He reached out, ruffling your hair one last time before turning to head towards his own school. "See ya later!"

You watched him go, a sigh escaping your lips as you turned to face the school. You never really understood why he insisted on taking you to school every morning, especially when his own school was a twenty-minute walk in the opposite direction.

But then again, he'd managed to maintain perfect attendance for the past two years, so he must have been doing something right.

With another sigh, you pulled out your headphones, hoping that maybe—just maybe—they would be enough to keep people away today. You knew it was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

As you walked through the gates and into the bustling courtyard, you could already feel the familiar pull—the curious eyes, the hesitant glances, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

You pushed your headphones over your ears, the music drowning out the noise around you, but it wasn't enough.

It never was.

You stayed behind in the classroom during lunch, deciding to give yourself a break from the constant buzz of students. The cafeteria was always too loud, too busy, and you needed a moment to just be alone.

You pulled out a packet of fries you had bought earlier, munching on them absentmindedly while staring out of the window. The clouds rolled lazily across the sky, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to drift off, letting the quiet calm your racing mind.

You were jolted out of your thoughts when you heard your name being called. You turned, startled, to see your homeroom teacher hovering near the doorway. "____," she called again, her voice soft but carrying an unmistakable edge.

Your teacher, Ms. Hachiko, was hard to miss. She had a distinctly bee-like appearance, with large, round eyes that shimmered like polished onyx, and her entire body was covered in soft, fuzzy yellow fur.

Two delicate antennae sprouted from her forehead, and her long hair was pinned back into a neat bun. She floated a few inches off the ground, her wings fluttering quietly behind her.

But it wasn't just her that caught your attention. Standing behind her, with his shoulders slouched and an unmistakable frown etched across his face, was none other than Aizawa Shouta—the underground hero, Eraserhead.

You felt your eyes widen, and you choked on the fry you had just been eating, your throat seizing in shock. You coughed, hitting your chest several times as tears welled up in your eyes.

Both adults stood there, awkwardly waiting as you hacked out a few more coughs. When you finally managed to catch your breath, Ms. Hachiko gave you an apologetic smile. "____, you need to speak with Eraserhead here," she said, her antennae twitching slightly. "I'll leave you two to it," she added before fluttering out of the room, her wings buzzing softly.

You were left alone with Aizawa, who ambled over to the desk beside you and dropped himself into the seat, his tired eyes fixed on you.

He was wearing his hero uniform, his capture weapon loosely wrapped around his neck, and his dark hair hung messily around his face. He looked exhausted, deep lines etched beneath his eyes, but even then, there was something undeniably striking about him. He had an air of quiet authority that demanded respect, no matter how disheveled he appeared.

He stared at you for a moment before finally speaking. "Look, kid, I'm not sure why Nezu sent me here," he began, his tone blunt, "but apparently, you're needed for something. Honestly, you're a child, and you shouldn't even be involved in this. But here we are."

You blinked at him, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that thee Eraserhead was sitting in front of you, talking to you. He let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Have you heard about the recent villain attack on the UA first-year training camp?"

You nodded slowly, recalling the news you had heard about it weeks ago. You remembered hearing that it was the same group of first-year students that had already had a run-in with villains at the USJ. "Yeah, I heard about it," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "They got some crappy luck..."

Aizawa gave a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, it's been rough on them, that's for sure. The thing is, my boss, Principal Nezu, wants you to help the students who were most affected by the attack—Class 1-A. The other students have been able to get help from their assigned therapists, but Class 1-A... they're different. They've built a wall around themselves so thick that not even the best world-renowned therapists can break through. They think this is just part of being a hero, that they have to suck it up and move on."

You frowned, a slight pang of pity tugging at you as you listened. You knew what he was asking before he even finished explaining. It wasn't like you had a choice anyway. If Nezu, the head of UA, was asking, then your small, out-of-the-way school, Okiyama Municipal High, wasn't exactly in a position to say no.

With a heavy sigh, you slumped back in your chair, dropping your half-eaten packet of fries onto the desk. "Will I be back before school is over?"

Aizawa rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed with your lack of enthusiasm. "Yes, you'll be back before the end of the day. Nezu already spoke with your parents. One of your father's sidekicks will pick you up from UA bring you straight to his agency. It shouldn't take too long—you're just meeting them and getting a quick assessment."

Shoulders slouching, you could already picture the long, draining night ahead of you. With a resigned sigh, you pushed yourself out of your seat, nodding reluctantly. "Alright, fine," you muttered, gesturing for Aizawa to lead the way. "Let's get this over with, then."

Aizawa gave you a curt nod, standing up as well. You followed him down the hallway, the silence between you two heavy but not uncomfortable.

It wasn't long before you were out of your small school building and on your way to UA, sitting beside the underground hero in a rather unremarkable car, driven by a UA staff member.

You were about to meet the students who had faced villains twice now, and you knew that whatever you were walking into, it wasn't going to be easy.

When you arrived at UA, the sight that greeted you was different from what you remembered. You had been to UA before, a few years ago when your brother brought you along during his campus tour while deciding where to attend high school.

Back then, UA had been impressive, sure, but now it looked almost like a university campus—new dormitories and additional buildings scattered across the grounds, giving it the appearance of a bustling college rather than just a high school.

Noticing your confused expression, Aizawa spoke up, his voice gruff but explanatory. "After the training camp attack, UA opened up dormitories to house students. Villains have become more audacious lately, targeting students even outside school grounds. The dorms are an extra precaution, meant to keep them safe."

You nodded, taking in the new structures as Aizawa led you through the campus. It made sense, given how much had happened to these students already. You felt a small pang of sympathy for them—it couldn't be easy, constantly looking over their shoulders, waiting for the next attack.

Eventually, you arrived at one of the dorm buildings, and Aizawa opened the door, ushering you inside.

You stepped into a spacious common area, expecting to see a dozen traumatized, weary teens gathered together. Instead, there were just two people sitting on the couch, their attention fixed on the television in front of them.

The room was warm and cozy, a stark contrast to the tension you felt brewing inside you.

The moment the door opened, both heads snapped towards you, their bodies relaxing slightly when they realized it was Aizawa. The redhead sitting closest to the door smiled brightly, while the blonde beside him scowled, his eyes narrowing.

"Kirishima," Aizawa grunted, his tone carrying a hint of exasperation, "where is everyone?"

The redhead—Kirishima, you assumed—grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, some of them went out shopping, Sensei. And Deku and Shoto are out training."

Aizawa let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his forehead as if trying to stave off a headache. "I thought I told you all to stay put because you had an important visitor coming."

The blonde on the sofa snorted, his voice dripping with irritation. "What important guest, Sensei? Don't tell me it's that pipsqueak over there," he said, jerking his head in your direction.

You blinked, taken aback for a moment before letting out an affronted scoff. "Pipsqueak? I have you know, I'm taller than average," you sniffed, crossing your arms defensively.

The blonde gave you a withering look, scoffing again. "In what? Middle schoolers?"

Before you could retort, Aizawa intervened, his tired eyes narrowing at the blonde. "Bakugo, stop," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned back to you, his expression softening slightly. "I was told to bring you here, so even though not all of them are here, you've got two clients. Have fun," he said, giving you a small wave over his shoulder as he left the room.

You stared after him, your stomach sinking slightly. "Clients?" Kirishima asked, tilting his head in confusion as he looked at you.

You forced a smile, feeling awkward under their curious gazes. "Uh, yeah. I'm here to... help you guys. I guess you could say I'm kind of like a counselor," you explained, scratching the back of your head.

Kirishima's eyes widened in surprise before his expression broke out into a wide grin. He jumped up from the couch, crossing the room in a few quick strides to extend his hand to you. "Well, that's super manly! So young, yet already helping people like this. I'm Kirishima Eijiro," he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

You took his hand, shaking it a bit hesitantly. His grip was strong but friendly, and you couldn't help but notice the small details about him—his bright red spiky hair, the way his eyes seemed so genuine and open, the muscular build that made it clear he took his training seriously.

There was an energy about him that reminded you of your brother—that same relentless positivity.

Lord, it seemed you had found someone who could give your brother a run for his money.

"I'm Hanabira ____," you replied, your voice a bit more steady now.

The moment your name left your mouth, Eijiro's eyes widened even further, and he let out a gasp. "No way! You’re The Emotional Hero: Emberpulse's sibling?!"

You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, yeah?"

Eijiro's grin grew impossibly wider as he continued, "Your brother talks about you all the time! It's like I practically know you already. He says you're always helping people out, even when it's not easy, and that you have this way of making everyone feel better just by being around."

You raised an eyebrow, a bit skeptical. "How did you even know? Our last name isn't exactly unique, and we don't look alike at all."

Eijiro blinked, then broke out into another grin, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't know, honestly. Your brother just said you gave off this aura of immediate kindness. Like, you just have this energy that makes people feel safe, you know? So when you introduced yourself, it kind of clicked."

A gruff voice cut in before you could respond. "Only you would make such a dumbass connection, Shitty-Hair," the blonde from earlier muttered, standing up from the couch. He turned to face you, his intense eyes boring into yours.

He had a scowl permanently etched onto his face, his posture confident and almost confrontational. His blond hair was unruly, and you couldn't help but notice the small, almost imperceptible twitches of annoyance in his expression—like he was constantly teetering on the edge of irritation.

Eijiro just laughed, seemingly unaffected by the insult. "That's Bakugo Katsuki, my best friend," he said, gesturing to the blonde. Katsuki sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes but not bothering to say anything further.

Eijiro turned back to you, his expression softening slightly. "So, uh, what exactly are you here for?"

You sighed, holding your hands up. "Like Aizawa-san said, I'm here to help, but it's not exactly like I'm a therapist or anything. I didn't ask to be here either," you said, your tone a bit defensive.

Katsuki scoffed, crossing his arms. "We don't need a damn therapist," he muttered, clearly unimpressed.

You gave him a flat look, deciding not to engage in an argument. Eijiro, sensing the tension, quickly stepped in. "Hey, don't mind him. He's just... like that," he said, scratching his head awkwardly. "Uh, would you like to join us? We were just watching a movie."

You shrugged, figuring you might as well. "Sure," you said, trying to sound casual.

Internally, you figured it was better to stay and at least try to connect with them, given that the rest of the students weren't even there. Plus, Katsuki seemed like he'd be impossible to talk to seriously right now.

The three of you settled on the couch, and Eijiro quickly started chatting again, asking you questions about your brother, your Quirk, and your school. He leaned in a bit closer whenever you answered, his eyes bright with curiosity and genuine interest.

You could tell he was trying to understand you better, his questions growing more specific as the conversation progressed.

At one point, he asked about your brother's favorite hobby, sharing how they had bonded during training sessions over their shared love of working out.

"You know, your brother's kind of like a legend," Eijiro said, his eyes wide with admiration. "I know I already told you, but he always talks about you, and I was really excited to finally meet you. He says you're his biggest inspiration."

You felt a warmth spread across your chest—a mix of pride and embarrassment. You gave a small smile, shrugging. "He always exaggerates. I'm really not that special."

Eijiro shook his head vigorously, his red hair bouncing slightly. "No way! I can totally see it. You've got this calming vibe. It's like... you make everything seem a little less scary, you know?" His gaze lingered on you for a moment, and you could feel a slight buzz in the back of your mind—a familiar haze that signaled your Quirk almost activating.

You blinked, suddenly hyper-aware of your body language, realizing that your posture had subtly shifted to mirror Eijiro's, your smile matching his intensity.

Quickly, you broke eye contact, focusing on Katsuki instead, who was watching the interaction with an annoyed expression.

He caught your gaze, and his scowl deepened. "Don't let Shitty-Hair butter you up. He's got a habit of getting all sentimental," Katsuki muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Eijiro laughed, giving Katsuki a playful nudge. "Aw, come on, Bakugo. Just trying to make our guest feel welcome."

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite behind his irritation. "Yeah, whatever. Just don't go crying on us, idiot."

The conversation shifted, and Eijiro asked more about your school life. You found yourself relaxing again, the haze receding as you focused on answering his questions.

He seemed genuinely fascinated by even the mundane details—how you spent your days, what subjects you liked, even your least favorite lunch options. There was a warmth in his attention, a genuine desire to know you, that made it easy to keep talking.

Time seemed to pass quicker than you expected, and even Katsuki, though gruff and standoffish, eventually chimed in with a few sarcastic comments.

You noticed that, despite his harsh words, he never actually dismissed anything you said. It was as if he begrudgingly accepted your presence, though he made sure to keep up his rough exterior.

At one point, Eijiro nudged you lightly with his elbow, a grin on his face. "You know, I think you and Bakugo would get along great if you gave it a shot. He acts tough, but he's got a good heart. Right, Explosion Boy?"

Katsuki's glare could have cut glass. "Don't drag me into your dumb ideas, Shitty-Hair," he snapped, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks, barely noticeable.

Eijiro just laughed again, unbothered, and you couldn't help but smile. It was strange, but you found yourself feeling a sense of comfort in their dynamic—like, despite their differences, they had a bond that was hard to break.

After what felt like a couple of hours or so, there was a knock at the dorm door. Aizawa entered, followed by one of your father's sidekicks, who gave you a nod. "Time to go," the sidekick said, their voice gentle but firm.

You stood up, giving Eijiro a small wave. "I guess I’ll see you around," you said.

Eijiro grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. "For sure! And thanks for coming by, ____. It was... nice."

You nodded, turning to follow Aizawa and the sidekick out of the dorms.

The ride to your father's agency was quiet, your mind still replaying the interactions you had just had. You found yourself mentally sorting through the profiles you had unconsciously built on both Eijiro and Katsuki so far.

Eijiro was enthusiastic, open, and incredibly genuine—his positivity seemed almost endless, and you could tell he was the kind of person who made it his mission to uplift others.

He had this earnestness that made you feel at ease, like he genuinely cared about the people around him. He was always leaning in, listening intently, and his questions showed just how interested he was in knowing you.

There was something infectious about his energy, and it reminded you so much of your brother—the way they both could fill a room with warmth just by being themselves.

Katsuki, on the other hand, was more of a closed book. He was gruff, blunt, and had an intensity that made it hard to know what he was really thinking.

Yet, underneath all of that, you could see small glimpses of something else—his scowl wasn't always as sharp as he wanted it to be, and he had moments where it felt like he begrudgingly accepted your presence.

He never outright dismissed you, and while his comments were sarcastic, they didn't carry the kind of malice you might have expected.

It was almost like he was challenging you to see past the tough exterior, to prove that you could handle being around him.

When you arrived, your father was waiting for you, his expression stern.

He grabbed your arm, his eyes serious as he looked at you. "Listen carefully," he said, his voice low. "The villain you're about to interact with is dangerous. He was part of the Vanguard Action Squad—Mustard. He's unpredictable, so I need you to be cautious. Understand?"

You swallowed, nodding. "Got it, Dad."

He gave you a small, almost reluctant smile, his grip on your arm loosening. "Good. Just... be careful, alright, little love?"

You nodded again, feeling the weight of what was about to come settle heavily in your chest.

This was just another part of your Quirk, another responsibility you had to shoulder—whether you wanted to or not.

A/N: so what's the verdit? will it be good as a fic or just do a one-shot series???

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avatarchic · 8 months ago

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boku no hero academia masterlist !

⋆ midoriya izuku ↳

⋆ bakugo katsuki ↳

⋆ todoroki shoto ↳ TWENTY-SIX MONTHS — baby daddy!todoroki shoto x fem!reader Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side.

⋆ tenya ida ↳

⋆ kaminari denki ↳

⋆ kirishima eijiro ↳

⋆ hanta sero ↳

⋆ shinso hitoshi ↳

⋆ monoma neito ↳

⋆ tamaki amajiki ↳

⋆ yo shindo ↳

⋆ aizawa shota ↳

⋆ yagi toshinori ↳

⋆ takami keigo ↳

⋆ shigaraki tomura ↳

⋆ todoroki dabi ↳

©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

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sunny-and-moonbow · 4 months ago

Text

Sunny and Moonbows Masterlist

My Hero Academia

How you met them

Pro Hero Eijiro Kirishima word count: 314

Pro Hero Denki Kaminari word count: 350

Pro Hero Izuku Midoriya word count: 907

Pro Hero Katsuki Bakugo word count: 366

Pro Hero Kiyoka Jiro word count: 643

Pro Hero Shoto Todoroki word count: 319

Pro Hero Hitoshi Shinsou word count: 318

Tamaki Amajiki

A Small Miscommunication word count: 1013

A Friend Of A Friend word count:2.1k

Katsuki Bakugo

Mutual Agreement word count: 1021

Fumikage Tokoyami

A Night To Remember word count: 1279

Izuku Midoriya

Sugar Daddy Pro Hero Deku x Reader word count: 562

Ao3

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call-me-copycat · 2 years ago

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Masterlist [1]

➤ Welcome

Info about me and what I write for along with the rules I have

♡ Fics:

Aizawa x Sick! Child Reader

▶ Platonic + Gender Neutral

▶ Pairing: Father!Aizawa & Child! Reader

▶ Summary: Child Reader gets sick and Aizawa overreacts

▶ Word Count: 1,713

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

Declaration of Distortion

▶ Platonic + Gender Neutral

▶ Pairing: Nothing direct, but reader just hangs around Aizawa and Shinso. Tokoyami is there for a split second as well.

▶ Summary: A courageous reader with striking white wings and a powerful quirk falls victim to a malicious mushroom spore quirk. Along with many others, they are ruthlessly mind controlled and forced to battle numerous heroes, and their own mentor Aizawa, a formidable hero in his own right.

▶ Word Count: 15,420

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

Sounds of Sorrow

▶ Platonic + Gender Neutral

▶ Father! Aizawa and Reader (Aizawa's kid, age unstated but around 16

▶ Summary: Time has never been on your side. You've always been counting down the minutes until your father might up and leave you, but Aizawa thinks otherwise. He just needs you to understand.

▶ Word Count: ~ 4229

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

Escaping The Night (Series - Ongoing)

[Part 1] ••• [Part 2] ••• [Part 3] ••• [Part 4]

[Part 5] ••• [Part 6] ••• [Part 7] °°° [Part 8] ••• [Part 9]

▶ Romantic (Shinso) + Fem Reader

▶ Father/Mentor Aizawa & Reader

▶ Summary: A Vigilante reader is caught and apprehended by Aizawa. Aizawa decides to take you in and see if he can help you live a fulfilling life. (Also a slowburn for Shinso)

▶ Word Count: I try to hit around 5k-ish words each chapter

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

In the Wake of Chaos (Coming Soon)

▶ Platonic + Fem Reader

▶ Father Aizawa and Daughter Reader

▶ Summary: A cruel villain kills your innocent friend, and the idea of revenge settles in your head. Later, after seeing the villain still alive, you attempt to get payback, only to be stopped by Aizawa's comfort and logic.

▶ Word Count:

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

Disconnected (Coming Soon)

▶ Platonic + Fem Reader

▶ All of class 1-A and other characters (focus will be on Shinso and Aizawa)

▶ Summary: After being hounded for being the traitor without proof, you come to a new realization as only a select few stand up for you, as the others turning their backs away. No one sees you again, that is until the war breaks out, but you aren't happy to see them.

▶ Word Count:

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

No Ordinary Temptation (Coming Soon)

▶ Romantic (Shinso) + Platonic (Aizawa)

▶ Shinso x Fem Reader and Father! Aizawa & Daughter Reader

▶ Summary: A hurt/Comfort fic for anorexia

▶ Word Count:

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

Purity Prevails at Midnight (Coming Soon)

▶ Romantic (Either Bakugo or Deku) x Fem Reader

▶ Summary: Reader has a unique quirk that's garnered a fair amount of attention over the years, both good and bad. When a new statue is suddenly found sitting on display it brings a bought of cruel irony to the reader, who grows a distaste for it. Eventually people begin to go missing all over town, and no one can seem to find the suspect. And it all happens when the clock stuck midnight.

▶ Word Count:

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

Serendipity Soiree (Coming Soon)

▶ Romantic/Fluff (Shinso x GN Reader)

▶ Summary: You and Shinso are best friends, and together you're both celebrating Halloween with some friends. An unexpected concession catches you off guard.

▶ Word Count:

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

The Weight of Regret

▶Dadzawa Hurt/Comfort

▶ Reader who developed a bad habit of smoking and gets help from Aizawa

▶ Word Count: 6868

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

Sweetly Smitten

▶ Tamaki x GN Reader

▶ Reader works at a bakery and develops a crush on a certain indigo-haired boy who regularly visits. Both are too shy to confess, so Mirio and Nejire decide to take matters into their own hands

▶ Word Count: 11,800

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

You're Not Alone

▶ Bakugo x Reader (Relationship/Gender unstated)

▶ Bakugo hears reader crying in the shower and offers some words of comfort

▶ Word Count: 1251

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

WRITING EVENT:

Lunchtime Troubles

▶ Present Mic x Reader (Platonic/Fem Reader)

Go To Bed

▶ Aizawa x Student Reader (Platonic/Gender Unstated)

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

A Runaway's Hope

▶ Aizawa x Daughter Reader (Platonic)

▶ Reader gets kicked out of her mother's house and goes to live with her father, Shota Aizawa, consequently forgetting to let him know in the process.

▶ Word Count: 2746

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

What I Owe To You

▶ Aizawa x Self-Harming Reader (Platonic)

▶ Heavy warnings with this one. Aizawa walks in on reader self-harming and helps them get through it.

▶ Word Count: 2925

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

Love Knows No Bounds

▶ Yandere Dadzawa & Daughter Reader [Platonic]

▶ Genre: Kind of fluffy + Yandere themes

▶ Summary: Aizawa's never really taken a liking to kids. But you keep finding him somehow, and he wonders why he's now constantly worrying about you. He decides you're the only exception he'll make.

▶ Word Count: 4547

▶ Warnings:

This is yandere, so there's bound to be a slightly unhealthy mindset

Aizawa's not a creep, I promise

Implications of deaths of citizens

Graphic description of those citizens fear before said deaths

Mention of slight stalking

I'm not too great at writing Yandere, so it's not too bad

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

When The Clouds Part

▶Shirakumo x F! Reader

▶ Genre: Fluff, little bit of comfort

▶ Summary: The ask sums it up, but overall Shirakumo gets a little help deciphering his feelings towards you from his friends and plans on how he'll tell you how he truly feels

▶ Word Count: 7640

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

Only You

▶ Summary: You've been feeling a little forgotten, Shinso's popularity bringing in people who take up more of his time. Shinso, however, lets you know that you're far from it.

▶ Shinso x Reader

▶ Genre: Comfort

▶ Word Count: 3134

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

The Hollows of The Mind

▶ Summary: You receive... Threats. Luckily, Aizawa's the best at both protection and comfort

▶ Father! Aizawa & Reader

▶ Genre: Comfort

▶ Word Count: 2146

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

Listen to The Tears

▶ Summary: Aizawa consoles you through your loss

Mentor Aizawa & Reader

▶ Genre: Comfort

▶ Word Count: 1416

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

So Should She

▶ Yandere! Shinso x Kianna Komori (OC)

▶ Genre: Comfort

▶ Summary: Shinso confronts her about her eating disorder and decides to take a step forward in helping her heal

▶ Word Count: 1884

♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡♡ ••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ♡

♡ Notes:

• As of this time, requests are open! They might be a little slower than usual because my mental state has been all over the place, also I need to get my phone fixed.

° Did I miss anything? Please tell me! Should I add something? Also please tell me!

• I wish you all a lovely day, thank you for being here for me ໒꒰ฅ́ ˘ ฅ̀꒱১ᦂ

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maehara-san · 2 years ago

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Something about the unknown.

[a/n: something random, do please enjoy. 🪐]

"Do you still miss him?"

Resting your chin on your open palm you looked away, staying quiet to avoid a question you did not know the answer to yet.

"Come on," your friend grabbed the empty chair and sat down in front of your desk. "It's been a month (name)―"

Placing your hands on your desk you rised abruptly from your seat. "You don't know what it's like to care about someone who deeply hurt you." Looking at your friend you added, "Please stop asking me when you don't fully understand how badly I'm hurting right now."

Your friend sighed, their lips parted ready to argue against you but opted not to.

You walked out of your classroom with crossed arms in front of your chest. The halls filled with students that paid no attention to what you were filling, wishing that you too did not having anything to worry about.

As you turned the corner to head down the stairs you saw your ex with another girl, her arm wrapped tightly around his own. Happily flirting as if nothing he always had been single with no trace of an ex.

"It's hard seeing him like that isn't it?" A voice spoke one you recognized well.

Your eyes wouldn't tear themselves away from the two people down at the bottom of the stairs. An ache rising again, you moved your hand to the front of your chest and squeeze your shirt tightly. Your knuckles turning white, hoping it would reach your heart to stop it from beating and feeling that hole deepening inside.

"He moved on too quickly, don't you think you deserve better than that?" He stepped closer to you. "Someone like Bakugo isn't capable of caring about someone else. He never has, there's a reason why he got rid of you so quickly."

There was hesitation within you, but you didn't stop yourself from asking.

"Why?..."

"Bakugo only got what he wanted from you, if he truly meant what he said he wouldn't be locking lips with another girl knowing well his ex is watching."

Truth and behold, he was right.

But damn did it feel horrible needing to face reality. You wanted to keep the hurt locked away, far away from your reach. Anything to make the ache a little less hard than it really was.

Angrily you wiped away the tears that formed in your eyes again.

"I should have listened―" you sniffled, feeling hatred for him and yourself for not seeing how things really were. "Damn it... damn it all!"

"You shouldn't have to keep waiting for someone that won't ever come back." He said.

"I'd do anything... to make sure that would happen." You clenched your jaw seeing the way his hand went to grace your arm, delicately.

"My offer still stands." He reminded you, "I dislike people like him who feel entitled."

"I'm not going to use you, Shinso." You shook your head looking at him with a tear stained face. "I wouldn't be able to hurt you like that."

"Who said you'll hurt me?" He playfully smirked, "I know what I'm getting myself into remember? I'm the one who's asking you."

Before you were able to tell him anything, Bakugo stopped at the top of the stairs looking at you, as your eyes stared at his arm wrapped around her waist.

"Don't you have anything else to do than follow me?"

"Who said she was following you?" Shinso stepped forward, glaring at him.

"How more obvious and pathetic can she be huh?!" He raised his voice staring down at him then at you. "Get over yourself! I'm done with you. Move on with your life will you? You're just asking people to pity you."

Your hands formed into tight fists, all you wanted was to slap that ridiculous look off from him. Those red orbs were only haunting you each time you closed your eyes, you were done. You had enough of him being the shadow that lingered over you each time you decided anything for yourself.

Bakugo wasn't the same person you first knew.

He was an egocentric asshole.

"Fuck you." Your voice held venom. "I don't need to loom over you and your side chick, Bakugo. I won't ever cry again for someone who doesn't give a hell about anyone but himself."

Pressing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip, chuckling dryly.

"You're just mad that I dumped you―"

"No I'm actually relieved now that thanks to Shinso I finally opened my eyes to see you're not even worth crying two years over."

Which of course ticked him off even more.

Shinso couldn't help but laugh, "Damn coming from someone like (name) who rarely gets mad at someone you really went hit rock bottom, Bakugo."

"Shut up you purple hair trolled!" Bakugo yelled getting ready to throw a punch at him when Shinso surprised him by hitting him instead.

He staggered back holding his nose, "Y―you damn bastard!"

"Bakugo!" The girl exclaimed, rushing over to his side and screamed seeing blood was dripping from his nose. "You're an animal!"

"You're going to pay for this!"

"How?" Shinso confidently questioned as he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you in. "You already lost everything you had gained. (Name) is mine and the only thing you have is well... that." He pointed at the chick next to him, "Not to mention in a real fight I'm pretty sure I'll be the one with less injuries."

"You're out here talking crap about me leaving you when you already with him!" Bakugo pointed at him. "You're a fucking hypocrite."

Shinso smirked, holding your chin with his thumb and index finger. He pulled you in quickly, taking you off guard as his lips connect with yours.

Your eyes widened, lips frozen as he you felt his soft plumps lips against your own. Slowly your eyes started to close and you began to copy his moves, kissing him back.

A noise of disgust could be heard but you didn't know if it was Bakugo's or the girl's.

You were too occupied by the way his hand moved down to hold the side of your neck, as his thumb rested on the bottoms part of your cheek.

He deepens the kiss, forgetting about the problem at hand. Shinso was already in too deep to pull away now, becoming addicted with the way you tasted, the way you felt.

Your hands came up to rest on his waist, ignoring the light of wariness in your brain going off. All you knew was that you didn't want to stop.

"What the hell is going on here?"

You breathed heavily as your lips parted from one another, seeing your teacher Mr. Aizawa standing there looking at the four of you.

"This fucking extra hit me that's what!" Bakugo yelled.

Shinso being the unbothered person he was responded with a monotone. "You're still here? I thought you would have left by now."

"You little!―"

Aizawa pulled Bakugo back away from Shinso and you.

"You're all coming with me." He announced, "Now."

"But he was the one who hit him first!―" the girl tried to put the blame on him but he ignored her.

"I don't care who started what." He sternly said looking back and forth at each of you. "You four are coming with me, you are equally to balme here."

"This isn't fair!" She whined.

He rolled his eyes and pushed them both to start walking.

"This is stupid!" Bakugo retorted.

Shinso and you made your way downstairs to the teachers staff room.

You were too flustered to even look at him or say anything, only complied with the directions that your teacher gaved you.

He of course noticed this and quietly slipped his hand into yours.

Looking down you saw his fingers were tightly intertwined with yours, and looked at him shyly.

Shinso offered you a soft smile, making you blush even more all the way to the staff room.

"Quite blushing, you look like a damn tomato." Aizawa said as he let you guys in first into the room.

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saikoucorps · 4 months ago

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HITOSHI SHINSOU

♱ KEY ┊FLUFF — 🥝 ANSGT — 🍇 SMUT — 🍋‍🟩

✘ FICS

— none yet

✘ DRABBLES

— none yet

✘ HEADCANONS

— 🥝 monoshin x gn!reader poly hcs

—

✘ THIRSTS

— none yet

✘ SMAUS

— none yet

#ꪆ★୧ saikoucorps #mha #my hero academia #bhna #boku no hero academia #masterlist #hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinsou x reader #bnha shinso hitoshi #hitoshi shinso x reader #mha hitoshi #mha shinsou #shinsou x reader

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ghostorchidd · 4 months ago

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MASTERLIST

Shinso Hitoshi

the passion of lovers (aka goth reader hc's)

The sun and moon(aka popular reader hcs)

Tamaki Amajiki

Love fool(aka general dating headcannons)

Katsuki bakugou

Nothing here yet!

Shoto todoroki

Nothing here yet!

Ochako uraraka

Wlw headcannons

Anybody else who is requested but not here will be added!

#shinsou x reader #amajiki tamaki x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #tamaki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha x reader #mha #my hero academia #EMMYS MASTERLIST

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thehusbandoden · 1 year ago

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Shinso Hitoshi: (2)

Last added to: 12/06/23

~~~~~

Fanfiction

Drabbles

Headcannons/Scnerios (2)

Incorrect Quotes

~~~~~

Main masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here<3

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!! <3

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

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ms-fandomgirl · 2 years ago

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Violet Petrichor: Masterlist

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader

Words: 5,245 total (oneshot + epilogue)

Summary: When Shinsou Hitoshi was first born, his world was filled with magic and fantasy. When Shinsou Hitoshi was born a second time, he was plunged into a society of heroes, villains, and quirks. Now, on a hot summer’s day in a modern and very mundane world, Shinsou Hitoshi only had one goal in his third life: To meet you once again.

Genre: Modern AU (mentions of Fantasy AU and Pro Hero AU), Reincarnation AU, fluff, meet cute, Shinsou being in love, just a tiny bit of angst

Cross-posted on Ao3!

Oneshot

Epilogue

A/N: Finally had time to complete my links! Thank you so much for all of the love you guys have given this fic. Reblogs and likes are appreciated, but please do not repost!

#ms fandomgirl writes #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinso x reader #shinso hitoshi #my hero x reader #my hero academia #shinsou x you #bnha x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #shinsou fluff #masterlist

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thisisxli · 5 months ago

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I have sm ideas with characters to write abt.

Officially published : 𝐓�� 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭. - 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆.

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makethiscanon · 2 years ago

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Headcanons:

Christmas with Him

Writing:

Spin the Bottle ~ Fluff || One Shot || Warnings: none

Trysts ~ The last thing you want is Aizawa finding out about your times with Shinsou and Ojiro.

Fluff || 650 words || One Shot || Warnings: Suggestive Themes || [Can also be found under the Ojiro heading]

------

[WRITING MASTERLIST]

#Shinsou #Shinso #Hitoshi #Writing Masterlist #x reader #imagines #headcanons

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a-ikuoliver · 2 months ago

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it's all in your head, i'm inside your head and you're never gonna get me out

pairing: hitoshi shinso x f!reader w/c: 2.1k warning/s: DUBCON/NONCON, brainwashing, female!reader, prohero!mindjack, just a lot of staring lmao, please lmk if i missed anything notes: based on this thirst inspo/acknowledgements: MY LOVER @definitelynotsaint FOR ALL UR HELP I WOULD BE NOTHING WITHOUT YOU MARRY ME PLEASE <3 + earworm by cottontail

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

"you seriously think you could beat him?!"

"you act like he's huge, kami, i have more chance with brainwashing than electrification. if i stay quiet, what's he going to do?"

"have you ever fought the guy?"

the argument had been going on for about… twenty minutes now, most of your other friends already filtering out of your place, but you'd trapped the blond, and subsequently shinso with your argument over the hypothetical: would you rather fight kaminari or shinso?

this was by far the most passionate you'd been so far, answering earlier versions of the question effortlessly: would you rather wear kirishima or mina's costume to a wedding (mina's), have an uncontrollable quirk with raw power or a perfected, slightly below average quirk (master of one). the moment sero proposed the final question, your eyes landed on his, your eyes glowing with smugness when they met his bored amethyst iris's, a spark of interest when you parted your lips to argue your point.

shinso remained reserved throughout your argument with the blond, studying a chip in the deep purple paint on his thumb idly, breathing slowly, evenly, apathetically despite his ears burning any time you'd say his name (his heart rate spiking every time, even with each word out of your mouth being a teasing jab of his lack of sheer power in comparison to you).

"why don't you test it sometime?" his voice is gravelly, nearly cracking after sitting in silence for so long, quietly nursing the last few mouthfuls of his drink while he peered at you; the animated way you spoke, the sparkle in your eyes every time you'd tease him, the curve of your neck when you'd toss your head back at something someone said. swallowing the final drops of the amber liquor, your attention is drawn back to him, proud smirk and all.

"what? you don't think i could fight you?"

shinso quirks an eyebrow at you, an uncontrollable, self-assured grin lazily gracing his lips, "i don't think you could keep quiet."

your mouth drops open to defend yourself, your glare growing more and more fiery as you spin to face him. he could prove it right now, brainwash you the moment the first syllable leaves your mouth, command you to remain completely still while he binds you, leave you wrapped neatly in the binding cloth to wake up in, leave you stuck while he revels in his victory. he could do it right now, annul your challenge before it could become anything, before your ego could swell even bigger.

"is that a challenge, mind jack?"

no, it's no fun to melt your wings before they're built, not until you're halfway in the air, dangling precariously over the raging sea, completely ignorant to the dangers below, complete trust in your makeshift wings.

offering you his hand, he ignores the apprehension in kaminari's golden eyes, "you wanna make it official?"

patience is a virtue, something hitoshi has to remind himself of frequently; patience, hitoshi echoing in his mind when you patrol by his side, promising to protect him from any villains, pulling him behind you if even a mouse came across your path. patience, hitoshi when you mock kaminari for fearing the muscular mans brainwashing, asking if he feared the boogeyman, too. PATIENCE, HITOSHI, it's like a mantra when you smirk up at him, your unspoken promise of beating him hanging in the air between you before you'd even part your lips to greet him.

a virtue, a true miracle he was blessed with such patience.

so, he waits, biding his time until the perfect moment, the absolute perfect time. it was spring now, weeks after your proposal, the scent of pear blossoms beginning to float through the sky. along with the sweet scent in the air, humidity made it grow thicker and thicker, as his patience grew thinner and thinner with every step closer to you.

"hitoshi!" you answer cheerfully, like you normally do, a bright smile on your curved lips, unfaltering even as your friend stares at you with burning eyes, costume awry and his dark hair mussed, pushed back from his forehead, "you look like shit."

the tension inside his body was ready to snap, a rubber band stretched far beyond what he could handle; hearing one too many jabs from you, (today, a text of your merch, a little plush of yourself that you offered, free of charge, to protect him on patrols when his brainwashing fails).

"you should see the other guy."

"oh, i'm sure you really showed him."

"you going to invite me in or just insult me?"

"aren't you going to make me? or not ready to accept the truth? i know it's hard."

he snorts, relaxing against the door frame, deciding today was the perfect day to claim his victory. to pop your ballooned ego.

"let me in," his voice is smooth, your eyes drawn to his lips at his low timbre, lips parting slightly. you feign stepping aside, dropping your head into an overly dramatic bow, only meeting his eyes again after a long moment, the smug sparkle still shining brightly in your pupils.

"huh, sorry, i don't think it worked," you stand straight once more, fixating on your limbs as if searching for a reason why his quirk hadn't worked, stretching each finger as if just to confirm your autonomy, to confirm his lack of reach, even into the weakest parts of yourself.

your wax wings spread wide, curling over shoulder blades, strapped around biceps, wrists and fingers, nothing but clear blue skies ahead of you, bright eyes zeroing in on the searing sun. you've forgotten all about the deep sea below, no concern for the waves crashing over the jagged rocks at the cliffs edge, of the current dragging helpless creatures further into the depths. what did you have to worry about the peril below when you could take to the sky? you wings will carry you far from the danger lurking in the murkiness.

"let me in."

like a baby bird, struggling to leave its nest for the first time, your wings fail you, cracking, burning, melting, sending you careening carelessly into the frigid depths below.

unlike your act, you can't feign when his voice, his quirk seeps beneath your skin, settling in your veins, in each wrinkle and valley of your brain, invading your nerves. your eyes go blank, inky pupils dilating minutely. no more burning hubris reflecting back at him, there's only the endless darkness he can watch himself in, the heat in his own eyes. the hunger. you obey (of course you do), your hand falling limply from the door frame as you finally step aside, welcoming him inside.

"aw, where'd all that talk go?" he grins, tilting his head condescendingly, arrogance oozing from him in waves as you stare at him, defenceless in his clutches, his hold the only thing keeping you from slipping into the depths, further from the sky you greedily sought. you're silent (of course you are, hitoshi hasn't commanded you to speak), a ditsy, dumb, blank look on your face as he steps over the threshold onto the genkan.

"close the door." you do, your arm falling back to your side as soon as the latch clicked.

"kneel." you do, heavy limbs bending and bowing until you were seated at his feet.

"take my boots off." you do, you make quick work of the hefty boots, shimmying them down his calves and over his ankles, his half-lidded stare trained on you, admiring your casual shorts riding higher and higher on your plush thigh when you leaned forward to place his boots at the edge of the step up into your home, the pair sat neatly, side by side.

"you're so good, so obedient," his voice is low, his tone would have you addicted, itching to hear his faux praise again and again if you could remember it. leering down at you, hitoshi is certain you'd snarl at him if you could, bear your fangs, bite and threaten him. rather, you're pacified staring up at him, doe-eyed like this he can imagine how you'd keen instead, how you'd lean into his touch when he pats your head, how your eyes would blur when he calls you pretty, dizzy and dumb nuzzling into his hand.

it was cute, laughable, he has to admit, studying your vacant stare with deep amethyst eyes, the way you really thought you could overpower his quirk, that you could win against him.

"such a good girl, aren't you? yeah?" shinso's thick gloves tangle your hair in tiny knots at the top of your head every time he pets you like a well-loved house dog, "how about you get me a drink, too?"

god, he wants to record you, to rub your nose in how well you behaved for him, blindly following every instruction and he didn't need to spend a single yen on training clickers or treats. shinso mulls over the decision for a second, just long enough for your chest to rise once more, your eyelids to drop in a blink; the expression on your lips when he would show you how pathetic you look is nothing in comparison to you rebuilding your wax wings every time you break out of his brainwashing, not remembering a thing; your attitude and teasing returning again and again, week after week when he knows exactly how pretty you look when your mind was a blank slate for him to carve any thought into.

by the time he's mulled over the decision, you've led him further into your home, back towards your the kitchen where the bet was born, where you began building the wings that would betray you.

opening the cupboard that housed the glasses, the tips of your fingers just bump the vessel with a light tink when his pink lips part to command you once more, "stop."

you pause, waiting oh so pretty for your next instruction.

"i could tell you to do anything right now, you know that?"

you stand like a marble statue, only blinking when your eyes burn.

"i could tell you to bark like a dog, and you would," you're silent, eyes staring forward even as he disrupts the air around you, tracing a gloved finger over the bare skin of the back of your thigh, just to watch the goosebumps unconsciously form in his wake, just to do it without your burning glare. "tell you to sit pretty, to shake, to roll over. would you like that, baby?"

shinso runs his bare pointer finger up your spine, tracing the nape of your neck until he buries his hand in your hair, tugging your head back and forth to nod along with him, "i knew it, you're just a pathetic, obedient little thing."

again, he manoeuvres your head to nod (he knows he can command it, but sometimes he likes getting his hands dirty).

"bend over," hitoshi tugs his gloves off, placing the pair carefully beside you on the counter, admiring the arch of your back as your tits squash against the stony counter. you were a fucking sight, something he'd never forget until the day he died; the image of you bent, dumb, drooling burnt into his retinas.

obsidian eyes follow every rise and fall of your chest, roaming over the expanse of your body, every sliver of bare skin catching his attention, taking his time to admire while you can't argue with his perversions. wide hands are drawn to your ass like a moth to the flame, the curve of your plush skin hardly covered by the fabric, even more so when he kneads the fat of your ass, squeezing and spreading anywhere he can reach.

"should i take these off? hm?" he toys with the waistband of your shorts, as if waiting for you to reach around and shove him away from you, to call him every name under the sun, to threaten his life if he even moves an inch closer, lays one more finger on your skin.

you don't.

"yeah, i bet you'd like that." shinso chuckles to himself, hooking his fingers under the elastic and tugging them easily down your hips, leaving them to pool around your ankles, left only in your shirt and the cutest cotton panties, marred by an ever-growing dark patch at the centre of your cunt.

"filthy little thing," his smile widens, a predatory stare locking onto the wet patch, tracing the shape of your pussy over your panties just to watch it widen, "you're so fucking perverted, huh? bet you've been waiting for me to try something like this."

his cock is aching in the tight constriction of his suit, he's acutely aware of how uncomfortable it would be to go home with cum staining his boxers, but he can't find it in himself to care, not when that would mean taking his eyes off of your clothed, drooling cunt.

"you wanna know something?" he hears the gentle buzz of a streetlamp igniting outside your window, hears your gentle breaths, you don't answer.

"i can't brainwash you into getting wet, baby, this is all you."

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