#shinsou hitoshi x reader

[b3ach-bunn7]

NONSENSE

You're horrible at technology, and find yourself fliriting with you university's IT customer service.

University!au, noquirk!au, fluff

(side note i love shinsou hitoshi)

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You’re sure your stupid shitty laptop could break world records with how useless and slow it is.

You don’t think you’re much better. You study veterinary medicine so you can name every bone in a cat's ass but it would take you ten years to figure out how to send a Word document to somebody. The only up to being so horrible at technology, is your university has an IT customer service. 

It’s weird and you don’t really understand how it works, but according to the front page, you can call anytime from 10am to 3am. With the clock ticking minutes before your submission date, and with an essay due tomorrow, you decide it will be less embarrassing to confess you have no idea how to work the university’s submission system, than not submit at all. You dial the number quickly, biting your thumbnail as it rings a couple times before it picks up. The person on the other line barely said their hellos before you started rambling.

“Okay, I know this is really stupid, but I cannot figure out how to attach my submission to this stupid fucking- I mean, this stupid system. And I have like, twenty minutes before my submission date, so I’d really appreciate any help you can give me.”

“Why would you leave your submission so last minute?” 

You frown. You’re unaware that customer support could be so sassy. And also attractive. At least his voice is. It’s smooth and soft, and you press your phone closer to your ear to hear him better. 

“Uhm. I don’t need the sass, thank you, I need the help.” You drawl, clicking at your laptop aggressively.

There’s a little chuckle of amusement on the other end of the line. “Apologies, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?”

“Would you prefer sir?”

Your face twists in annoyance. “I’d prefer you to help me.”

“Alright, alright. Okay, so enter the module the work is for, scroll to the bottom.” He pauses slightly so you can follow his instructions.

“Okay.”

“Then click the three dots on the top left. Where it says enter, click that and select your file, then submit.”

“Oh. Why doesn’t the button say submit. Instead of fucking enter.” You grumble, quickly attaching your work and handing it in.

“Not sure. I’ll let the university know.” He says, faux sympathy coating his voice.

“That’d be nice.” You glanced at your phone. You’re not sure what exactly happens now.

“So. Is that it?”

“Is what it?”

“Do I just. Hang up? Now that you’ve helped me?”

You can hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks again. “Unless you wanna keep me company for the rest of my shift?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

You hang up, trying to ignore the small smile on your own face as you do it. You don't have to miss him for long though, because you find yourself calling them back only a few days later after the wifi in your room refuses to work. 

You turn it off, then on. You carry your laptop all around your flat and hold it up to the ceiling knowing it won’t make a single difference. You ask your roommate and she is having no issue. It’s only when you’re about two seconds from snapping your laptop in half before you realise you’re not even connected. And after you find out your roommate is fine once more, you find yourself scrolling through your call history to find the IT number.

“UA University IT Services, how can I help?”

 You gape. “It’s you again!”

“Hey, it’s submission girl.” He grins. “You forget it’s called enter again?”

You roll your eyes. “Ha ha. I’m not calling for your horrible comedy, I'm calling because my WiFi isn’t working. You can help me with that, right?”

He groans into the phone. “Do I have to?”

“Yes you have to. It’s your job, IT guy.”

“I suppose. Since you asked me so nicely.”

You sit up in your bed. “Okay. What should I do?”

“Are you sure it’s not just the WiFi being shitty?” He asks.

You hum questionably. “No, I don’t think so. I asked my roommate and she said that hers is fine. And it’s also saying disconnected.”

You pause for a minute. “Wait, how do you know the WiFi is shitty?”

He snorts a laugh. “I’m a student too, idiot. I have to deal with shitty wifi as well.”

“Oh.”

You’re not shocked per say. He certainly doesn’t sound like a middle aged man you’d imagine working in IT. It’s nice to confirm though. And the fact that he is probably around your age means you can keep finding his voice hot.

“What, do I sound that old?”

Definitely not. “Yeah.”

“Shut up. You sound worse.” He mumbles and you tut. 

“Horrible customer service. I’m filing a complaint.”

A small laugh is heard from the other line. “I’d rather you didn’t. Rent is not cheap here.”

You lay back on your bed, dragging your laptop up on your knees. “You live in the student dorms?”

“Well, duh. I am a student, after all.” 

You roll your eyes. “What year are you?” “Second.”

“Hey, me too! How old are you?” “Should I be concerned by these questions?”

“Not if you answer.”

He replies that he’s nineteen, just like you. You wonder if you’ve seen him around before. Maybe he’s even in the same course as you. You could ask for his name, but you think that might be a little weird. That, and you sort of love the mystery around the man. Who knew being so useless at technology would lead to such great things?

Your laptop flickers off, and it’s only then you remember that you called him for a reason. You tap the keyboard and it lights back up, and your anger flares up once more. You huff, and IT guy seems to remember why you called too.

“Right, your wifi. You said it’s working for your roommate?” He asks.

“Yeah. And it’s working on my phone, it’s just my laptop.”

He hums, and you can hear the faint sound of clicking on the other line. “What building are you in?” You raise an eyebrow. “Should I be concerned by these questions?”

“Not if you answer.”

You smile. “I’m in 4A.”

He takes another few seconds, and you lean your head back on your bed as you wait for him to say something. 

“Alright. Your password should be, ‘uab4a’. You wanna try type that in?”

You groan, sitting up again. “I have, like six hundred times. But okay.” You huff, doing it once more.

Nothing. You sigh, defeated. All you want to do is watch some Netflix. 

It takes about five tries before IT guy finally starts to get stressed out with you. He tells you to click different things, turn your laptop on and off, restart it. You follow all his instructions to no avail, and you shake your head.

“You know what, maybe I’ll just watch Netflix on my phone.” You sigh, said phone now on speaker and thrown on your bedsheets.

IT guy tuts. “None of that talk. I just don’t understand. We’ve tried literally everything. The only way I-”

Suddenly the other line goes quiet. You grab your phone to check he didn’t hang up and you see that it’s now been 18 minutes of you two on the phone together. 

“Why have you gone all quiet?”

“Is your caps lock on?”

You bark a laugh. “Right. Like I’m that stupid to-”

You look down. The little light next to your capslock button is flashing, and your face heats red and IT guy starts cackling down the other line. You write the password once more, in lower case this time, and you let your face fall in your hands at the sign of four wifi bars flashing back at you.

“Oh my god.” You mumble, and IT guy just keeps laughing.

“Oh- Oh my god, you idiot.”

“Shut up! I dont- How did I not realise?” You cry, slamming your laptop shut.

IT guy takes a deep breath. “I really don’t know.”

You shake your head, putting the phone back up to your ear. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.” You mumble.

“Aw, don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I think you’re the only person that calls this line, anyway.”

You decide to ignore the nickname, and the tingle it leaves in your gut, and nod. “Good, then. I’m keeping your job for you.”

“So kind. Alright, go watch your show.”

“Night, IT guy.”

“Goodnight.”

Over the next two weeks, you end up calling a handful of times. Your password needs resetting, you accidentally deleted a file. Each inane task ends up with the two of you sitting on the phone for ages afterwards. You learn that he’s an insomniac, and that’s why he always works the night shift. He also lives in building 5B, which is about a ten minute walk from your place. The fact he’s so close, that you could go see him right now, taunts you in the back of your mind everyday. The fact that he was in your university, that he could be your classmate or someone walking around campus. 

But, like all things, your horrible internet habits mellow out. After a few days of no problems, you find yourself missing him. You’ve only spoken a handful of times, but he’s funny. He’s sarcastic and a little mean, but in a good way, a way that makes you a little giddy. And of course, now that you want issues, it’s so much harder for you to find some.

Over wine poured in mugs and reruns of you confess to your roommate your situation. She’s a little skeptical of the lack of identity, but she thinks you should just call him again. It couldn’t hurt, right? Worse case scenario, you hang up and the two of you never have to speak again. But best case scenario, you can have a conversation that’s actually about something meaningful. And you can get called sweetheart again.

It takes another two days for you to build up the courage, despite your friend’s support. You wait until it’s late, remembering that he told you he works the night shift, and anxiously dial the number.

“UA University IT Services, how can I help?” His voice sounds bored, automated, but you recognise it immediately.

“Hey, IT guy.” 

You hear a shuffle on the other end. “Hey, it’s my favourite customer.”

“It’s me.” You say nervously.

“So, what is it today? WiFi on the fritz again?” He teases. 

It takes a second for the words to get out. “Uh, no, I. I actually don’t need help with anything today.”

“Okay. So what’s the call for?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Silence. Oh god. You immediately cringe, and you are never listening to your roommate again, because she’s always wrong and stupid.

“Really?” He says quietly.

You swallow. “Really really. Don’t sound too excited.” You joke and he laughs.

“Trust me, I am. I wanted to talk to you again too, but I had no way to. The numbers on our end don’t get saved after every call, so. I was waiting for you.”

You perk up at his words. “Really?” “Really really. I also couldn't ask around. I doubt you go by submission girl in your everyday.”

You walk into your room, hopping into bed. You lay down on your stomach, and place your phone in front of you, resting your face on your arms.

“No, not particularly. Wouldn’t it be weird, though? If we actually knew each other in person this whole time and we never knew?” “Nah, I doubt it. Think I’d remember a pretty voice like yours.”

Your face flushes. “Shut up. ” You say, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool you down.

He snorts a laugh. “What do you study?”

“Veterinary medicine.”

“Wait, that’s sick. Do you get to see cats?”

You grin. “Yes! I volunteered at a shelter last summer, they were so cute.” 

He hums. “I love cats. I have one, you know.”

You eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Here? On campus? Isn’t that against the rules?”

“Nobody knows about her. We won’t get caught/ She's a good girl, she isn't loud or anything. And my roommate in under sworn secrecy.” He says.

Good girl. There's no way he isn’t talking like that on purpose. You nod your head even though he can’t see you.

“Okay, and what if she came to live with me?” You ponder, and he scoffs.

“I’m not co-parenting my cat with you.”

You’re lucky enough that your room faces the setting sun and now, a soft orange glow covers your room. It’s just cold enough that you’re wearing a hoodie and your fluffiest socks, but your window is still open to freshen the air. There’s a vanilla scented candle on its last life on your bedside table, and you prop your phone up against it and lean back in your bed.

“I could report you, you know. They’ll kick you out the uni.”

IT guy pouts. “You don’t want that to happen. Then you’ll never see how beautiful I am in real life.”

You snort a laugh. “Well, what do you look like? So I know what to avoid on campus.”

He hums thoughtfully for a moment. You yourself have spent countless minutes wondering. Is he tall? Short? Blonde, or brunette, or maybe he’s bald. You have no idea. 

“Well. I’m like, 6’1.”

“Yum.”

“Shut up.” He chides, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “And I have like. Kind of long hair. And I always look sleep-deprived, 24/7.”

“Night shifts will do that to you. What colours your hair?”

“Hm. No.”

You protest. “What do you mean no?”

“It’s a dead giveaway! I want to keep some of my mystery.”

He asks you what you look like. You give him the same cryptic descriptions he gave you. 

“Wow. I can find you easily now.” He drawls and you grin.

“No matter. We’ll meet one day.” You say.

The two of you end up staying on the phone for hours. It’s unfair how easily you find things to talk about. He tells you about his course, Psychology, and you listen as he rambles in your ear about studies and experiments. As it gets later his voice gets deeper, lacing deliciously with sleep as his voice rumbles in your ears. The time wears on and your eyes start to blink heavily. You look at the time and it’s been three hours.  Unfortunately, you are not like IT guy, and not only do you have classes tomorrow, but you need sleep to function. 

You yawn heavily. “Look, I hate to be a buzzkill but I gotta sleep. I’ve got a ten am tomorrow.” 

“Boring. But fine. I’ll, uh. Talk to you later.”

You nod sleepily. “Night.”

You reach your phone over to hang up but IT guy’s voice rings out, scratchy through the speaker.

“Wait! I- Can I give you my number?”

That’s enough to wake you up.

You sit up on one elbow, rubbing at your eyes. “Your what?”

“Phone number? It’s those numbers you dial in when you wanna call me.”

“It’s too late for sarcasm.” You scowl.

“Sorry, sweetheart. It’s just I’d like to have a way to communicate with you. And call you. And text, or whatever.”

You smile slightly. “Okay. Yeah, of course you can.”

He reads out his number and you jot it down. He hangs up soon after and you send him a quick text.

September 17th 

01:20 am

You: goodnight IT guy 😁

IT guy: Goodnight  💜

Life gets much easier with his phone number. Now you can text him during your lectures, during the walk to and from your work. He calls you during his shifts and you keep him company for as long as you can before you fall asleep. Which you have embarrassingly done a few times.

He sends you pictures of his cat. A cute black one called Pesto. You ask for the meaning behind that and he said he was eating pesto pasta when he got her. There’s one picture where you can see his hands in the corner, fingers long and slender and you have to stop looking before your thoughts take a dangerous turn.

Theres a time, maybe a week in, that things between you shift. The playful flirting is upped, and the conversations between you become more meaningful. You start anxiously awaiting a text back, face flushing at the stuff he says sometimes. Maybe it isn’t the smartest idea to fall for a guy who you don’t really know, but you don't care.

He knows Denki, for one. You’d mentioned the name and he’d perked up. Denki was an energetic guy you met at a house party once. And if IT guy is friends with him then that's more than enough confirmation for you that he isn’t a freak.

You tell him more about what you look like. You haven’t sent a picture, but you think he might know enough to catch you on campus. He still hasn’t told you much else, and he confesses to you one night that he’s nervous about it.

IT guy: I don’t wanna be a buzz kill but I’m scared ur gonna be disappointed

You: literlaly shut up

You: idc if u look like a troll

IT guy: right

You: or an ogre

IT guy: is this supposed to make me feel better

You: YES

You: look what im trying to say that i genuinely don’t care because i like u regardless of all that

You: ur smart and ur funny and ur mean but ina good way

You: and u hace a cute cat called pesto

IT guy: so ur using me for my cat?

You: duh..

It’s been two days since that conversation, and IT guy has been much more active ever since. You’d like to think you’ve given him a little boost of confidence, but you don’t care why it’s happening. You’re just happy that it is. 

You wish you could reply to whatever he’s sent you right now, but your boss might fire you if he catches you on your phone again.

You like the coffee shop you work at. It’s a quaint little hippy spot that’s a ten minute walk from your place. The pay is good enough, and you like your coworkers. Specifically Tokoyami. He’s quiet and keeps to himself, but he lets you chatter away to him every time you’re on shift together, and he always has good music recommendations for you.

Today, it’s the both of you on shift. You’re wiping down the coffee machines in the back and you can see him talking to someone at the counter. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but it’s rare you see him talking so animatedly. So you try to get a closer look. And wow.

You don’t know who he’s talking to but you’d like to. His hair is purple. That’s the first thing you notice. It’s a lavender and it looks so soft and fluffy you want to reach out and touch it. His eyes are a deep brown, and there’s heavy bags under them, but they somehow make him look even more beautiful. He’s got a lazy smirk on his face as he says something to Tokoyami and you’re itching to reach forward and eavesdrop. But you can’t. You’re on cleaning duty. Of course you are when a cute guy comes in.

You feel a pang of guilt suddenly, when you remember IT guy. You don’t think you should be thinking about any other guys. Even really cute ones. You get your head down and keep wiping. It’s only a moment later when you hear a crash and your head shoots up. Something happened out in the shop, and a moment later Tokoyami pops his head in the kitchen.

“Someone spilled some shit on the floor. Can you take Shinsou?” 

Shinsou. Tokoyamis told you about him before. A friend from university, or something like that.

“The purple haired guy?”

“Yep.”

“Gosh, the famous friend I’ve heard so much about. You never mentioned he’s so cute.” You wiggle your eyebrows and he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yeah, sorry but. He’s got a little girlfriend texting thing going on.”

You tell him you were only joking and he just pushes you out to the front. You peek a look at Shinsou and he’s looking off into the distance. Deliciously so.

You check his order and it’s just a black coffee. Simple enough. You make quick work of the drink, humming something under your breath as the machine whirls to life. You write his name on the cup in sharpie, and fill it up, pressing the lid and slipping on a cover so he doesn’t burn his hands.

You walk up to the counter. “Hiya. You’re Shinsou? Tokoyami’s friend? He’s mentioned you before. All good things.” You smile as you slide the drink over.

And Shinsou looks back at you like you’ve got two heads. Or like you’re the most shocking thing he’s ever seen in your life. You step back a bit, slightly nervous at the shocked expression on his face.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, your smile falling a little.

“No. I mean yes! It’s-“ 

And it’s as he’s stuttering through his words you hear it. That voice. That same deep, smooth voice you’ve been flirting with over the phone. And you’re sure your face now looks like Shinsou is the most shocking thing you’ve ever seen in your life. Your face heats up and he doesn’t look shocked for much longer because that same unfairly attractive smirk graces his face.

He leans forward slightly. “Is this submission girl in the flesh?”

“Oh my god. IT guy?” 

His smirk widens into a grin. “I go by Shinsou, but. You can call me that too.” 

You roll your eyes to the side but you can’t help but keep them on him, an incredulous look on your face. “You were worried for us to meet? You’re fucking hot.” You say.

And he looks even better when the tops of his cheeks dust the slightest red. You smile, leaning forward on the counter. 

“Thank you. And you’re beautiful.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Even in my gross work apron?”

“Especially in your gross apron, sweetheart.” 

You feel like giggling like you’re fourteen with a crush again. You brush a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“You’re not working tonight, right?” You ask.

He shakes his head and purple locks of hair dance around his face. Slender fingers grab the cup and take a sip. 

“Perfect. We’re going out.”

Shinsou tilts his head to the side. “Shouldn’t I be asking you out? Seems much more traditional that way.”

“We met on our uni's customer service number. I don’t think anything about this is traditional.”

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guys i LAAAAUUUVVVVV shinsou and like he does not get enough attention or love or fics....... it makes me wanna scream

also this nearly took a steamy turn... with that cellular device.... but i did not because i cba

also i noticed that jason todd fics do so wel compared to my other stuff?? maybe cause hes not as popular but i will keep that in mind my people.

i hope u all enjoyed this! <3

[r4spb3rr13s]

things they do that make your heart skip a beat

♱ bakugou, kirishima, midoriya, todoroki, kaminari, shinsou

fluffy and suggestive 😔

disclaimer this could all js be niche stuff i find attractive…

bakugou

♱ wears black compression shirts and tank tops that cling to his biceps, shows uncharacteristic patience helping you with schoolwork, blushes when he catches you looking at him, grabs your hips when he walks past you, cooks shirtless with a ‘kiss the cook’ apron on, chronic manspreader, reverses the car with his hand on your seat and looking over his shoulder yk exactly what im talking about

kirishima

♱ makes you sit on his back when he does press ups - will then proceed to do one handed press ups while grinning at you in the gym mirror, poses after a work out for you, wipes stuff off your face and (if edible duh) licks it off his thumb, has the worlds deepest morning voice, hugs you from behind CONSTANTLY - if he could glue himself to your backside you better believe he would

midoriya

♱ IS RESPECTFUL TO HIS MOTHER 😫😫, will hurl himself out the car to come open your door for you, gives you the most insightful opinions of clothes, makeup, whatever, rubs his thumb over your hand when he holds your hand, holds the door open for you without a second thought, the sidewalk rule <3, saves every. single. photo. you send him

todoroki

♱ pays for everything before you can protest, sends you flowers with little notes attached randomly, brushes/styles your hair for you, will sit for hours in changing rooms w you and make you do 360s for every outfit, takes candids of you and refuses to delete any of them, constantly leans down so you can speak in his ear and you get a big whiff of his fancy cologne, speaks diff languages 🥹

kaminari

♱ leans his hands on the tops of doorways when he’s talking to you, pulls you in by your belt loops to talk to you, leans over in the middle of serious conversations to whisper a stupid joke in your ear that you have to struggle not to cackle at, wears rings and lets you play with them, calls you “m’lady” and “ma’am” when you’re annoyed at him, whenever he zips you up in a dress or buttons you up he’ll kiss the back of your neck and your shoulders, is really good with his little baby and toddler cousins 🩷🩷🩷

shinsou

♱ “yeah?” “mhmm?” WHEEWWW SIR, plays guitar for you and sends u vids of him playing songs u request, stretches and his shirts always lift up to show off his happy trail 🙂‍↕️, drags you down to sit in his lap for EVERY activity he does - paperwork, video games, whatever, has constant bedroom eyes???, tugs on your hair to get your attention, had to lean back and adjust himself everytime he sits down bc he wears the baggiest pants in existence

do i need to start a taglist?

[rueclfer]

homebodies get cheated on // smau

when it's time to go out but he can't miss his shot

a/n: this is my song of the night + dumbass squad <3

sero hanta, denki kaminari, shinsou hitoshi

[sup-hoes-its-me]

You're desperate for them right now

feat: bakugo, midoriya, todoroki, tamaki, iida, mirio, shinsou

Summary: (requested) fem!reader texts the boys that they need that dick rn. i used a bunch of characters for this one, so if i missed any that you really wanted, feel free to message me.

NSFW so read at your own discretion. use of "daddy" and "slut" once if anyone is uncomfortable with that. sometimes i just like to post something a little bit naughty, ya kno?

bakugo:

midoriya:

todoroki:

tamaki:

iida:

mirio:

shinsou:

[crushmeeren]

heyy idk if this is where we put requests but by any chance could you do the mha boys reacting to you putting on the pheromone perfume and you smelling hella good possibly resulting in something freaky ( denki, shinsou or bakugo) or anyone is fine🙏🏾

⋆⋅ I love this idea! I did twist this a bit, it’s basically the love potion “amortentia,” from Harry Potter but as a perfume. Why the fuck it’s so hard for me to shorten things down when I write, I have no damn idea. So here, have this. (.づ◡﹏◡)づ.

All characters aged up/18+. ❲ ̽ ⋆ FEM READER ̽ ⋆❳

⋆⋅ Between the ⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ symbols are memories of reader and whichever character!

Thank you @pastelbakugou for helping me figure what to write for Shinsou. ( ˘ ³˘(◡‿◡˶)

⋆ ft. kaminari, shinsou, bakugou, todoroki ⋆

..⃗. master list link

The sickly sweet scent of vanilla ice cream infused with honey is what overwhelms Katsuki’s senses first when he leans in and hugs you in greeting. You squeeze him back just as affectionately and he’s in the middle of nosing at your throat when he’s hurtled back in time through his memories.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Katsuki mutters hotly. He’s trying, key word trying, to wipe the sweat covering his phone screen onto his tank top but it fails miserably, seeing as how his shirt is soaked fucking through. He’s more or less just smearing it around and he’s debating on just obliterating the useless piece of shit phone.

He curses whoever the fuck is up there and uses sheer willpower not to tear his hair out from the roots because of this scorching heat wave.

Finally, he’s able to read his latest message from you. It tells him to meet you at the ice cream stand nearby his patrol route on his next break.

Katsuki wipes the back of his forehead with a glove free hand, but it slides right across his sticky skin and then sweat drips into his other eye with a harsh sting and goddammit, he’s royally fucking pissed off now.

For your sake, he swallows his swelling rage and makes his way to you swiftly. The two of you have tried to make it a habit to meet a couple times a week when Katsuki has time during his shifts, he gets so busy that sometimes it gets hard to see each other as often as you’d like.

As always, his heart stutters when he lands a few feet from you. The tension drains from his shoulders even as he witnesses drops of sweat being flung off his jaw from the impact of landing and coloring the light gray pavement darker.

You look so, so pretty in your sundress and Katsuki’s stomach swoops when a sweet smile lights up your features. You reach out a cup of ice cream for him to try, teasing him for looking like he’s just taken a shower but he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and takes a bite of the treat. Katsuki practically moans when cool cream melts on his tongue. He feels infinitely better.

The sun beats down harshly on you both, but it brightens your eyes and the playful way you blow a coy kiss at him when you part ways leaves him with fingers crunching the empty cup and pants that fit a bit too snug. God, he’s disgustingly in love with you.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Kat?” Your concerned tone brings him back to the present. Katsuki can’t stand another minute with your clothes on and hauls you up with a rough grip to the backs of your thighs. You yelp in surprise and scramble to hold onto his shoulders as he strides towards your bedroom.

“I don’t know what the hell you did to smell this way, but you’re gonna keep your eyes on me and I’m fuckin’ you until you pass out. Understood?”

How could you ever hope to say no?

When you’re both naked and tangled in the sheets, Katsuki pushes one of your legs to your chest, curls his fingers around your throat, and pushes his forehead against yours as he stretches your tight pussy out completely with his thick cock. He stays true to his word, hand gripping your jaw and forcing your eyes to stay locked with his own ferocious stare when you grit your teeth and cum.

Then he kisses your forehead afterwards when you’re fast asleep.

Muscle memory tilts Shouto’s head to the side as he leans closer to sniff you curiously, an adorable habit that he’s never been able to break when he wants answers to something.

“What is that?”

“What is what, Sho?”

“You smell like the end of a campfire. Why?”

You raise an eyebrow and saunter closer to where he sits at his desk, his office quiet with most heroes currently out of the building. You step around the corner of his desk and hop up on the edge to sit next him, feet kicking gently.

“That’s important to you? A campfire? Huh I would’ve thought you’d smell something like soba,” you comment with a shrug, half smile tugging at your lips.

Now Shouto’s thoroughly confused.

“I don’t understand. Why would you smell of soba? Are you alright?” Shouto sounds as deadpan as usual, if not slightly concerned. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, staring at you as if he could find the answer by checking out your body. It makes you laugh.

Animatedly, you explain to him about the new “perfume,” Mina let you try. Apparently, whoever wears it prompts the object of their affections to smell whatever scent is important/attractive to them. And suddenly Shouto gets it

“Oh, I see,” he says with an understanding nod. He can narrow it down specifically as to why you smell of a campfire on a cold night.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Sho, are you sure we can’t just use your quirk to roast these marshmallows? It’s so much faster!” You protest halfheartedly, but you’re already stabbing one of the fluffy sweets with a stick, assembling a second one for Shouto.

“No. This will be more fun, I promise. I watched Touya-nii and the others do this once, it seemed as if they were very happy afterwards.” Shouto flicks his hand and fire shoots towards the pile of sticks, engulfing them until a decent fire roars.

This sobers you considerably, and Shouto sits down next to you, accepting the offering of marshmallow on a stick happily and oblivious to the depressing sentiment he just offered.

So, you roast marshmallows. You tease each other and laugh as you assemble the s’mores and then lean into Shouto’s left side to fend off the chill of the autumn night afterwards. The stars are brighter away from the city and Shouto has always enjoyed the quiet of the countryside. His heart is close to bursting from his chest every time you laugh and he blurts what’s on his mind.

“I love you.”

It comes out of nowhere and Shouto only feels nervous for a few seconds before you return his feelings. Shouto’s dragging you into the tent before you can blink.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

In hindsight, at least to Shouto, he understands exactly why you smell like a campfire. With slightly rosy cheeks and a matter of fact tone, he recounts the memory for you and he’s sure his hair’s about to catch fire from the way you’re looking at him.

Without caring to lock the door, the two of you end up reliving part of that memory.

Shouto pushes you until you’re flat on your back on his desk, sliding your pants off and making sure your ass is on the edge of it. He drops to his knees and eats your pussy until your thighs squeeze his head.

And when you beg him to fuck you, he bends you over the desk and presses his cock inside you roughly. The snaps of his hips are frantic, and when there’s a knock at the door, all Shouto does is cover your mouth with one hand and keep going until you’re seeing stars.

“Denki!”

Said blonde whips around at the muffled call of his name. Denki feels his smile aching in the apples of his cheeks as he watches you weave through the crowd of people on the dance floor to get to him. You grin in return and wave warmly, which makes his pulse run overtime.

“Baby!” Denki almost squeals, yanking you in for a crushing hug when you get close enough. “You made it! I thought you got lost,” he says teasingly against your ear and you lean back to laugh and punch him in the arm. You crowd into his space once again so he can hear you but an overpowering and delicious scent of coffee and rain pushes up Denki’s nose.

He startles, head jerking back and brows shooting up. Your expression turns questioning but Denki cuts you off before you can speak.

“Holy shit baby, you smell super good. Like, fucking amazing! What are you wearing? It makes me want to rip your clothes off,” He says enthusiastically, tangling your hands together in the process.

“Oh! It’s this new perfume. Well, technically it’s not a perfume but honestly I didn’t think it would work! I assumed it was a scam.” You give him a run down of how it’s supposed to work and he suddenly comes to the realization of why you smell like coffee and rain of all things that could be important to him.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Oww,” Denki whines, sticking his tongue out and fanning it quickly.

“Did you burn your tongue?” You bump his shoulder playfully, taking care not to spill your own coffee. “I told you it would be hot, it’s a latte Denki,” you scold him good naturedly, trying not to laugh. He pouts at you, blowing into the lid in hopes to cool it off.

“Well I didn’t expect it to be the surface temperature of the sun!” Denki protests, gingerly taking another sip and humming in contentment when he finds it’s cooled off enough to be drinkable. You laugh again, but then Denki almost runs into your back when you stop abruptly in front of the glass door exit.

“It’s raining! Shit, I didn’t bring an umbrella. How are we supposed to make it back to the station?”

Denki studies the way it’s pouring cats and dogs, before making a noise of triumph and pointing to a bench under an awning not too far away.

“We can go wait for a bus over there!”

You side eye him. “Fine, but if I spill my coffee, you’re buying me a new one.”

The two of you take off, and in true Denki fashion, he trips and spills his coffee everywhere. By the time you both make it to the awning, you’re both soaked to the bone and breathless from laughing.

“Here,” you offer Denki your coffee with a grin, water dripping from the ends of your hair.

“You don’t have to share baby, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, yeah I do. I love you, Denki.”

Your boyfriend short circuits.

“Dammit Denki! Those were the only two lampposts on this street, now I can’t see anything!”

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Denki blinks the memory away and spins you, pulling your back flush to his chest. His body is a long, lean line of muscle as he moves your bodies to the beat and murmurs in your ear.

“Let me take you home and show you just how well this perfume works on me, my dick is hard as a fucking rock baby,” Denki giggles, squeezing your hips when you shove your ass back into his pelvis.

The two of you abandon your friends quick enough to race home, stripping carelessly in your living room until Denki can bend you over the armrest of the couch. He guides his cock inside you unhurriedly, pushing until his pelvis is nestled snug to your ass.

A breathy moan escapes him, and then he’s fucking your pussy as if he could never get enough.

He never will.

Hitoshi’s exhausted when he gets home from work late that night. Being an underground hero is rewarding, but it certainly comes with its downfalls.

He closes the front door delicately and toes off his shoes by the door. It doesn’t take long for him to make his way down the hall and into your bedroom, a tiny half smile worming its way into his expression despite his bone aching weariness when he spots you sound asleep in bed. He pauses to stare at you for a moment.

Hitoshi then showers as fast as humanly possible before crawling under the blankets and curling an arm around your waist, tugging you close until he can nose at the back of your neck. You sigh in your sleep and smuggle closer into his embrace.

Hitoshi trails his nose down the side of your neck and he freezes once he gets to your shoulder. You smell….good. Insanely fucking good, and he can’t quite pinpoint the specific scent but it’s soft and warm and maybe even a little musky. It sends warm blood rushing south and his cock twitches with interest.

He wracks his brain and the only thing he can associate with the scent is your cat, Kiko, when she was a kitten and you first brought her home.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Hitoshi’s in the middle of playing a game when you return home that day, calling out for him to come to the living room for a second.

“Why?” He yells back. He’s just about to finish this round.

“Just come out here you dick!”

Hitoshi rolls his eyes, but is amused nonetheless by your slightly frustrated tone. He pauses his game and makes his way to where you wait, but stops in his tracks, lips parting in shock and eyes going wide when he sees what you’re holding.

You’re cradling an itty bitty, all black, fluff ball of a kitten in your arms. You grin delightedly at his shocked expression and hold her out almost as if you’re offering her to him.

“You wanted a kitten right? An all black one, like the one you had as a kid at Aizawa’s.”

Hitoshi manages to close his mouth and nod, cautiously reaching out to take the small creature and cradle her to his chest.

He…can’t believe you remembered. You remembered how much his cat had meant to him and went out of your way to find this kitten.

“Thank you,” he says softly, petting the purring kitten’s head with one finger. You step closer and do the same, scratching under her chin until she meows.

“What should we name her?”

“Kiko,” Hitoshi responds with no hesitation, glancing at you for approval and you smile back at him.

“I love it.”

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Hitoshi blinks back to the present, the fond memory lingering at the edges of his mind. He remembers how his heart squeezed against his rib cage in the best kind of way that day and how he knew then he wanted to marry you.

“Baby,” Hitoshi whispers lowly as he kisses your cheek. You stir enough to lazily flip over and hum in question. “I love you, so much.”

“Mm, love you too Hitoshi,” you mumble, sleepy rasp coloring your voice.

Hitoshi bends down to kiss you sweetly, encouraging you to throw a leg over his hips and straddle his waist. He settles you on top of him and wiggles a hand between you to shove his briefs down, cock stiff since he first smelled you, and slides your panties to the side.

Your limbs are still laced and heavy with sleep when Hitoshi helps you sink down on his cock. You melt into his chest, face buried in his throat and arms locked around his neck.

He bends his knees and grips your ass to help you sensually ride him, rocking up into you at a leisurely pace until the warmth finally bubbles over the edge and you cum with a shiver and he follows right behind you.

When he asks you about it the next day, it all clicks into place when you give him the watered down version of how the “perfume” works.

He hums noncommittally before asking you to wear it again.

[foxfracture]

shinsou’s definitely into dumbification.

in the day to day, he loves how smart you are. he constantly finds himself in awe of your thoughtfulness, of how you reason through things, of the clever remarks that come naturally. it’s one of the main things that draws him to you.

and honestly, it makes it all the more satisfying to fuck you dumb later.

he loves seeing your eyes get cloudy and your mouth go slack with pleasure as he pounds you into the bed. watching you get less and less self-conscious every second as the buzzing in your body travels to your brain. you’re not even aware of the sounds you’re making anymore, just groaning in time with his hips, the rhythmic “uh-uh-unh” interrupted only by his own shaky gasps.

“so pretty” he pants, and means it. he prefers to have you on your back, facing him so he can see everything- your eyes glassy and half-lidded, your cheeks flushed. on display just for him. “doing so good for me darling.” 

he’ll ask you questions just to see you not be able to form words into an answer. gently clearing your hair out of the way so he can see your pretty face, “you okay baby? you feeling good? should i change anything?” no response- you can’t think straight, totally blissed out. 

it’s okay. he can think for you.

[melon-fodder]

-> KINKTOBER MASTERLIST <-

♡ WARNINGS: NON-CON! mind control, forced orgasms, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, creampies, aphrodisiac quirk

♡ WORD COUNT: 1.6k

♡ NOTE: y’all, for real, this is straight up non-con. There is nothing “dubious” about this. It’s dark and dirty.

As soon as the cloud of pink hits him, Shinsou knows that something is wrong. It tickles his nose, coats his throat, makes his mouth taste like too-sweet candy. He coughs, but it only makes the pressure in his head grow. Vision blurring, blood burning, Shinsou can only watch as the small-time villain turns and runs away. The condescending laugh that rings out behind her is almost as dense as the pollen settling over his uniform.

Dropping to his knees, Shinsou clutches his stomach, groans as arousal threatens to boil his insides. Fucking aphrodisiac quirks. He’s been warned about them, but he’s never experienced one.

Within seconds, he’s rock hard, leaking into his pants, pre dripping out of his dick with every god damn beat of his heart. He has to cum. Immediately.

There’s an alleyway a few yards away, dark and secluded and out of plain view. He can make it that far. He can–

“Hey, are you okay?”

The voice of a goddess–a siren singing the most seductive song. Shinsou looks up to find the source to be you, a civilian, frowning down at him in concern. His senses were already heightened from adrenaline, but something about the quirk is overloading them. He can see every color in your worried eyes, hear every one of your breaths, smell your perfume and shampoo, sweat and…

“Can you hear me?”

Shinsou nods, tells you in a strained voice, “I’ll be… fine,” then without making the conscious decision, activates his own quirk. Your pretty face goes slack, gaze blank, and just like that, Shinsou has himself a little puppet.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He really hadn’t meant to do it. But he’s not thinking straight. He can’t think straight. Not when the fabric of his hero suit feels like it’s rubbing his dick raw. “Help me to the alley,” he commands, and you obey without a word.

That’s all. He’s just going to get to a hidden place, release his quirk, apologize and thank you for your assistance. It’s the dead of night, anyway. You should be getting home and out of harm’s way. You definitely shouldn’t be in this dirty fucking alley, least of all with Shinsou while he’s in this state.

Because even as his back hits the wall, all he can do is stare at you. Stare at you and pant, lick his lips while imagining what yours would feel like around his cock.

It’s disgusting. You’re a stranger. A civilian. Absolutely helpless. And Shinsou is a pro-hero with so much fucking power over you. He could make you do anything–could make you kneel, lick his boots, walk right into traffic, strip off every single piece of clothing.

“Stay still,” he tells you, and you do.

You know you’re in danger. Fear tickles the edge of your mind, but it dissipates before fully forming into anything useful. It’s like a whispered voice telling you to run, but even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able. You can’t do anything unless he tells you to.

You’ve seen him before, the hero patrolling the streets in the middle of the night. He wears all black except for the scarf haphazardly looped around his neck. Purple hair hangs down around his face in thick tresses, unkempt and rugged. If you were actually cognizant, you would think he was hot, but currently all you feel when you look at him is a strange, contradictory mixture of calm and unease.

You’re still, just as he told you to be, but not stiff. Your body moves according to his touch, shoulders shrugging when he pushes your coat off. You feel the cool air against your skin, should shiver but can’t as if something has shut off your higher-level thinking as well as your base instincts. All you can do is breathe and feel.

“Against the wall,” he says.

Your feet are heavy as you take the few steps toward the bricks, facing them with your back to him. He doesn’t tell you to turn around, so you can’t see him when he undoes his utility pants, just hear the rustle of fabric and the low groan that leaves his throat.

“M’sorry about this,” he huffs, “I really am. I’ll try not to hurt you.”

Your heart is pounding too fast in your chest, but you’re only vaguely aware of it, just like you’re only vaguely aware of what’s about to happen to you.

“Pull your pants down.”

You do, hands moving without your permission as you pop the button on your jeans and push them down to your thighs.

“Panties, too.”

It’s cold, and you’re very exposed, but your head feels so empty. Or maybe it’s too full. Stuffed with tangled string or rough wool while something that resembles actual human intellect tries to wiggle out of the depths.

You don’t know. You don’t know anything except there are fingers probing your entrance–clumsy and desperate, and the man behind you swears when he realizes you aren’t prepared in any sense of the word.

“Can’t just shove in dry,” Shinsou mumbles, taking a shaky breath before stealing yours when he orders, “cum.”

Your eyes don’t roll. You don’t moan or cry or buckle at the knees. But you do feel the heat form and explode in your gut all at the same time, feel your pussy spasm and clench and coat your insides with slick arousal just in time for the hero to stuff your hole with his cock.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.”

His forehead is clammy against your shoulder, fingers gripping your hips as he impales you over and over. It’s fast, and rough as your body stretches around his unfamiliar length. He’s huge and hot inside of you, fat mushroom head dragging against gummy walls.

Shinsou loses it as he buries himself inside of you, hips snapping back and forth with no real rhythm. He just wants to cum, needs to, and he’s already so close. You feel so fucking good around him, pussy fluttering helplessly as he shoves you harder and harder against the grimy building.

He doesn’t bother pulling out, just groans deep in his throat when he shoots his load inside of you. It feels good, relief flooding his system for about three seconds before his cock starts twitching with need again.

“God dammit. God dammit.”

He thrusts in harder, panting an apology when he fists a hand in your hair and shoves your face into the wall. It’s absentminded and disingenuous. Truly, Shinsou doesn’t care about anything now, only focused on getting rid of the pressure in his balls. He wanted to be nice and gentle, but he feels like he might be going crazy.

The scent of your arousal hits his nose, and Shinsou lowers his face to your shoulder, licks up your neck and leaves a trail of spit on your skin. His eyes are rolling in his head, sweat is dripping down his back, and something is leaking out of his cock– a steady stream of semen dribbling out of his tip to keep from fucking aspirating it.

“Cum,” he commands, not thinking when he says it again and again.

You convulse in his grip, cunt clamping down on him as you’re hit with multiple orgasms back to back. He should feel bad, but he can’t–not when you’re milking his cock, not when he’s filling your pussy with more of his spend, so much that it starts flowing down your thighs.

“Fuck, sorry–feel so good, though.”

Shinsou keeps moving, keeps fucking you even as you go limp against him. His teeth find purchase on your throat, and he whines like a dog as he drools all over you while rutting into your abused pussy. One hand grips your hip while his other arm is across your body, securing you against him as he squeezes one of your tits.

He still isn’t done. Even after he fucks a third… a fourth… a fifth load of cum into you, it isn’t over. Shinsou doesn’t think he’ll ever come back from this. Maybe this is who he is now–a villain, taking girls off the street and assaulting them in alleyways.

Because that’s exactly what he’s doing. You didn’t give him permission to do this. You didn’t willingly let him put his hands on you. No, there’s a word for what he’s doing right now, one he never thought would apply to him, but he’s too lost right now for it to sink in. He may have taken away your ability to think, but Shinsou is definitely the one who’s lost his mind.

“Cum again,” he growls,” and when you don’t he realizes you’re unconscious.

A rough hand grips your chin, jostles your head until you wake up. There is a split second of clarity, seeing the dark brick in front of you, feeling the cold air against you, the way your sore body is being stretched and handled.

“Wha–oh my go–”

“Ah, ah… shh…”

Just like that, he’s in control again, and you’re a little doll for him to play with as he pleases. You feel achy and full and messy. Viscous fluid leaks out of you, slithering down your legs and staining your pants.

You don’t know how long this will last, don’t know how many times he’ll empty himself inside of you, how many more times he’ll force you to cum. You just hope that once it’s all over, he’ll give you one last command:

Forget.

[asunflowerana]

cramp challenge

summary: based on a internet challenge, the boys decided to face the most unstoppable enemy in life.

with: kaminari, shinsou, kirishima and bakugou.

a/n: i just wanted to watch their faces 😂

⊛ kirishima eijirou

“Are you sure you want this?” You ask him one last time, adjusting the device’s belt around his waist so that it stays pressed right to his belly.

“I’ll be okay, babe. Don’t worry about your man, he got this.” He winks and sends you one of his cheerful smiles. It’s really impressive how much he can endure in a fight, but this pain is a whole new level of deepness. It would be pointless to keep warning Eijirou, though: once he settles on something, it’s hard to change his mind.

You lay down next to him to give him support, the same device wrapped around your tummy, and you give him a good luck gaze before setting up and starting.

level of vibrations = increasing

30 seconds: he only presses his lips together, but you can notice he’s holding himself.

2 minutes: his nails start scratching the mattress as he holds onto it, but he keeps still, looking at the ceiling and trying to breathe evenly.

5 minutes: his face is reddening and he lets out a small whimper before he searches for your hand. He gives you a firm squeeze, not only to endure the pain but somehow comfort you since you’re also going through this.

10 minutes: his eyes start watering, but he keeps still, biting his bottom lip so hard that it bruises.

You turn off the device, and his arms move around you immediately, holding your body tight. You can feel your shoulder get a little damp, probably from the tears he was holding back.

“I don’t want you to go through this again, babe.” He presses his face onto your neck, still keeping you in his tight, comforting embrace. Your heart melts with how caring Eijirou is, even now that he understands a bit of your own pain. “M'gonna kick all these cramps so they don’t bother you ever again.”

⊛ shinsou hitoshi 

“Do I really need to do this?” He questions, watching you move from side to side preparing the whole set for your little experiment. “I think I have an idea of how much this hurts.” He tries to convince you, memories of witnessing women’s cramps (mostly yours) coming vividly to his mind — he can still remember how chaotic things got back then.

After assuring him you would stop after five minutes, he gave in. This could help him get a notion of how is your monthly torture, and give him new ideas to comfort you during it, so it won’t be a waste. And besides, the ache is probably lower than some blows he took from past enemies in the field. 

level of vibrations = intense

How utterly wrong he was.

30 seconds: “Wow, what the heck?” He squirms a bit, bothered by the pitiless way the pain comes. It feels like he was punched in the stomach by Midoriya.

2 minutes: “How is it not five minutes already?!” He groans, his legs kicking and throwing the layers of blankets away from bed. “Freaking evil thing!”

5 minutes: “Okay, that's enough!” He practically barks, ripping the belt apart by force and throwing the device away from his body. He takes deep breaths, feeling like he might actually pass out, cradling his own body and looking at you with widened eyes. “Baby, how the heck do you bear this every month? It’s insane!”

⊛ kaminari denki

“C’mon, bring it on, gorgeous!” Excited, your boyfriend grins as you prepare his torture session. It really amazes you the way he positively accepted this idea, which is not very common for Denki to appreciate pain. He was the one who bought that device in the first place, curious to see how cramps worked in practice — and to see if he’s strong enough to bear it. 

He can be a looney sometimes. But you appreciate his willingness the same way.

level of vibrations: increasing.

30 seconds: “Wow, it tickles!” He says chuckling, feeling the vibrations building up against his skin. It’s not a foreign sensation for him, but it’s still new to his brain. 

2 minutes: “Uhm, they can get pretty tough, huh?” He lets out a small grunt, but there’s still a small smile on his face, his toes curling from the ache. “Don’t stop, I want to see how much I can handle it.”

5 minutes: He’s rolling side to side in bed, wrapping himself with the blankets like a burrito. “Oh man, this is so freaking painful!”.

10 minutes: Tears are running freely on his face now, and you’re taking the remote to stop. “No!” He protests, chuckling through the pain. “I can handle it…. Ten more minutes.”

20 minutes: His eyes are fixed on the ceiling, his body motionless. “I can’t feel anything.”

Your boyfriend got numb for a whole hour before falling asleep.

⊛ bakugou katsuki

Last words: “Turn this on already!” He demands impatient, seeing you hesitant to start. Ever since he found out his friends did it with their girlfriends, Katsuki has been nagging you to do it as well, and you can’t sort out the reason behind it. Little did you know, your boyfriend was challenged by his own mates, who claimed he wouldn’t last one minute with cramps. Bakugou was fuming that day, but gave you a brief explanation about it, just proposing out of nowhere this idea. 

Since you had no other choice but to comply with your grumpy's request, you arranged the device, and prepared everything he might need during the process. 

You can only hope he doesn't blast your whole bedroom away.

level of vibrations: intense (his request)

30 seconds: He squirms a bit but tries to hang on, his expression concentrated. The ache from it is making him go to the moon, so hurtful, that tears start forming on his globes unintentionally. 

2 minutes: The pain is unbearable, it’s too intense and it doesn't stop. Yes, he has been through a lot of hard times in fights, but this is really a different kind of struggle. He can’t stand anymore, so he bowls, practically ripping the device with his bare hands and throwing it on the wall. He’s fuming, so mad, and not only for his own pain or the fact that he lost a stupid challenge: it’s the fact that you have to endure this every freaking month, and he can’t do nothing to stop that. 

“C’mere, you.” He grumbles after calming down, pulling you into his arm with an unexpected gentleness, resting his chin on the top of your head while caressing your skin. He gives your scalp a soft peck, breathing your smell. “Should’ve told me it hurted like that, idiot. Next period, you better not move around and let me take care of you, you hear me?”

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[a-ikuoliver]

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."

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[uravichii]

pov: you're drop-dead gorgeous (and they don't know how to deal with it)

character/s: bakugo katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, kaminari denki, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff, crack (?), them hyping u up like there's no tomorrow, uhh reader wears makeup 🤕

notes: this is for all u pretty mfs aka all of u whether u believe it or not YOU ARE PRETTY AMD HOT AND AMAZING 😡‼️ also disclaimer: the boys love u not just for your face. they think you're so cool for being beautiful inside n out and this is just them appreciating the out 🧎‍♀️

bakugo katsuki thinks you're so pretty that his only response to it is to be angry. he'd watch intently the way you'd smooth your clothes down and cutely fiddle with your hair in the mirror as if there's even anything to fix. he'll cup your pretty face in his hands and squeeze your cheeks together (cuteness aggression probably), "tell me why you're so fucking pretty all the time? what are you so pretty for, huh?!"

bakugo katsuki would always watch you do your makeup and hair and then slip into the prettiest clothes only you can pull off and he's just mesmerized by the whole thing.

"katsuki, please stop drooling and get dressed. we're gonna be late."

his only response is: "fuck off."

because he can never deny nor hide the fact that he constantly admires you every chance he gets. he storms his way to you and snatches a shimmery eyeshadow from your makeup bag. "tch, you don't even need any of this shit."

"you don't like it, katsuki?" you stare up at him doe-eyed, easily making his heart skip a beat.

"h-hah?! i didn't say that!" he shoves it to your hand, "now do this glittery shit next!"

and you just ditch whatever plans you'd made and spend the rest of the night trying on different makeup looks. he'll insist that you sit on his lap while you doll yourself up just because, and you gladly do so but then you both end up wearing a full face of glam makeup 🧍‍♀️ he doesn't know how he just let it happen but he's like, "whatever makes you fucking happy, y/n."

he then proceeds to tell you that, "every one of those ugly extras should grovel at your feet, worship the ground you walk on, and then beg for your forgiveness."

"forgive them for what?"

he stares blankly at you. "for breathing the same air as you."

bakugo katsuki's not active on social media at all but on his instagram, his first and only post is a photo dump of just youー the selfies you took on his phone, your date outfits, candid photos (by courtesy of bakugo katsuki) of you smiling at a stray cat, the power nap you took on his shoulder, and his favorite one by far: a photo of you wearing his black tank top that completely swallows you up, holding up two little peace signs on your cheeks.

and of course, he captions it, "u and ur ugly ass wish u were y/n."

shinsou hitoshi is convinced he's dating a model. he doesn't know how it happened, but he is a little proud of whatever the hell was in him that managed to rizz you up.

he thinks you look amazing in absolutely anything. so when you go clothes shopping together, he casually picks up all types of clothes from the racks until there's a whole pile of them in his arms.

when you shoot him a questioning look about it, he only says, "think you'll look amazing in these, babe."

he also picks up some accessories and just wears them on youー hats, sunglasses, hair pins, and you just let him because each time you let him accessorize you, he gives those little comments like, "amazing." "cute" "this one's tacky; i put it on you as a joke but you pull it off for some reason." "yes. slayed." he made you wear cat ears one time and he just melts right there, immediately taking a photo of you for his new lockscreen.

it bothers shinsou hitoshi a lot when people stare at you even when they can clearly see his hand on the small of your back. he'll slide closer to you and kiss the top of your head all the while he gives them a death stare he wishes he could do more.

he squeezes your waist a little to call your attention.

"hm? what's up, hitoshi?"

he looks at you blankly, taking in your features in awe as if for the first time again. then he stuffs your face into his chest, your legs staggering as you grab a hold of his forearms.

"hey, what are you doing?" you giggle in his chest. he's relieved you can't see his flushed cheeks. "hitoshiii"

"you're too good for this world, y/n. i need to start gatekeeping you."

what blows shinsou hitoshi's mind the most is how you're probably unaware of your effect on him, no matter how many times he's called you all synonyms of the word, 'beautiful'

he's sat on the couch, a tiny smile of adoration tugging on his lips when he sees you running up to him. your eyes brim with excitement as you call his name, truly the prettiest ones he's ever seen.

"something happened?ー" he pauses when you lean your face so close to his. he sinks back into the couch as the tips of ears start to turn red.

it takes a moment until he realizes that you're showing off the purple eyeshadow you had done on yourself, batting your eyelashes at him as you wait for his response bc right now he's just staring at you like 😦💘‼️‼️‼️

"it's the one you picked out from the mall yesterday. is it pretty?"

"y/n." his hands slowly find their way to your waist, "i don't believe you're real sometimes. you are possibly the most beautiful person i've ever seen."

"really?"

"god," he pulls you by the waist until you're sat on his lap, your legs straddling him. "you have no idea."

remember how bakugo said all those extras should be groveling at your feet and worshipping you? yeah, it's kaminari denki. he worships you.

he thinks you're beautiful and he's LOUD about it.

he's constantly bragging about you to his friends and showing off your photos (if you're comfy w/ that), "oh this? oh yeah, this is is y/n, the coolest, funniest, drop dead gorgeous, most ethereal person on earth and they're dating ME."

and bakugo would just grab his phone and knock it against his head with a thud 🤕, "WE FUCKING GET IT. NOW, SHUT UP, DUMBASS."

he'll rub his head while cackling, "whatever, i'm dating Y/N. who cares about anything if you're dating y/n?"

kaminari denki doesn't love you just for your beauty though. you're not just some eye candy to him. if someone ever called you one though, you bet he's zapping their ass and with the whole bakusquad by his side because somehow they feel obligated to protect you now too. 🧍‍♀️ (denki's effect)

and just as much as he compliments your beauty everyday, he never forgets to let you know how beautiful your heart is too. in fact, he calls you 'angel' because how could someone be this beautiful and be so kind and caring to him at the same time?

"sometimes.." he looks up pensively from his lap where you lay your head, "i feel like i've been blessed by the heavens when i got to date you.

"denkiー"

"don't even think i'm exaggerating, y/n!" he pokes your cheek when you turn your head to look at him, "you're amazing. i don't know what i did for you to give me a chance."

there are times though when a part of kaminari denki feels a little insecure because he thinks he looks quite stupid next to you, and it doesn't help either that the bakusquad never lets him hear the end of it 😔

"denki, you don't look stupid because you're next to me. you do that on your own."

"aww, thank yー hol' up." 🤨

he's pouting but you immediately wipe that off by apologizing and peppering his face with kisses, ending it with a loud smooch on his lips with a "mmmwah!"

kaminari denki now can't remember what you're even apologizing for in the first place.

you and todoroki shouto are so beautiful, the visuals are blinding 😩 you'd walk to your classroom together, him opening the door for you and you smiling at him, lovingly squeezing his arm as a silent 'thank you,' and people just stare with their mouths agape, not knowing who exactly to be jealous of.

shouto definitely stares the most though until it concerns midoriya, "t-todoroki-kun, you haven't moved in three minutes. are you okay?" because he might as well have drawn hearts on his eyes and stab an arrow to his heart with the way he looks at you.

todoroki shouto always kisses your eyes, nose, cheeks, hair, and your lips, of course, just to let you know how beautiful he thinks they are.

he thinks whatever you do or wear is so pretty, hence, the many, many photos of you on his phone. his lockscreen changes every 2 days because everyday he just gets a prettier shot of you, and he always shows them to you and to his friends and siblings ☹️ because everyone, including you, should appreciate what a beauty you are!

"this looks great! you'd make a great photographer, shouto" you lean in to kiss his cheek, immediately sending a flush across his face.

"well..." he looks to the ground, the feeling of your lips still lingering on his right cheek. "that's all you... you're beautiful. i don't know how it has anything to do with me, but thank you."

and then he leans closer, tilting his head to the side to silently ask for another kiss. you laugh softly at this, and when you cup his cheeks in your hands and start planting kisses all over his face the way he does to you, shouto confirms it in his mindー y/n is an angel.

todoroki shouto would get a little overboard with the photos though because he'll spam that button and keep every single one. when you ask why keep the blurry ones, he explains, "that's still a photo of you. why would i delete it?"

he also has a photo of his point of view from when he had his head on your lap. he said he wanted to capture "the happiest moment of his life." you convince yourself it's sweet but it's literally just a photo of your chin in a weird angle.

"shouto, that's just my chin."

he looks at you dead in the eye. "y/n, you have a lovely chin."

you call him a weirdo, which surprises him a little, but then you drape your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all over his face again because who else in the world would say that to you?

[orphicmeliora]

You were sure you had dreamed it all.

Thin streaks of sunlight peaked into the room, the signs of a rising sun apparent through the glass windows. You were laying in the middle of a huge, empty bed, the sheets felt like spider-silk brushing against your skin, your hair splayed out like dark waves over the pillow.

You're body ached in places you couldn't even name.

You traced the tips of your fingers over your body, naked in all its glory—the blankets having been kicked off long since and you were in no hurry to cover up. You felt it all like a phantom ache that refused to be banished from your subconscious.

You remembered the way his hands, like vipers pulled you close in an embrace of sin. Laying you down on the bed, undressing you one article of clothing at a time like unwrapping a gift so preciously adorned, while you panted puffs of air, so restless in the face of your desires.

Your hands ghosted over your stomach and remembered the way he had pushed down on it when you tried to sit up and undress him with your clumsy limbs. Remembered his warning glance and the things it did to your head. So impatient, he had clicked his tongue. Your efforts to hasten things only resulted in him growing more languid in his ministrations.

When your fingers brushed your chest, you remembered the way his eyes had darkened, his tongue peaking out of his mouth and you longed to catch it with yours, as your chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. Remembered how his fingers worked you up to a high so addicting and then as his mouth, a warm cavern on a chilly night, joined the fray—and how it all came loose. The embarrassed whine that left your lips as you tried to hide your face but he wouldn't have that—he wanted to watch everything.

As your fingers traced up your neck, more memories flood into your mind. The smirk on those sinful lips when you'd throw your head back seeking reprieve from the intense waves of your pleasure and he'd cease the opening you left—opportunist man that he is—and descend on your neck, teeth and tongue lathering you in marks with all the restraint of a starved man before a hot meal. And you'd have no choice but to grasp his hair to drag him up and look him in the eyes. Your man was weak for eye contact and crumbled easily.

The pads of your fingers caressed your face and you remembered the way his breath had brushed your skin as he whispered filthy promises in your ears. Remembered his hands caressing and grabbing as they traveled down your body. The gasps and moan he tore out of you and simultaneously stole as he claimed your lips.

You rubbed your thighs together and remembered the other wicked things he'd done to you.

You were so sure you had dreamed it all, but you remembered it all too vividly for it to be just a dream. Maybe the longing had made you sick.

With a lovesick smile you turned on your side, unwilling to get out of bed just yet—

You ceased all movements. Heart pounding wildly against your ribs.

There he sat leaning forward on the chair, legs spread and elbows planted on his knees. His shirt was unbuttoned all the way leaving his skin bare for your eyes to feast upon but you could hardly focus on that when he was looking at you like that.

The hungry look in his eyes set your senses ablaze. His smile—akin to a predator's—sent shivers down your spine. As if all that action just mere hours ago wasn't enough to satisfy him. Perhaps, just perhaps, he had longed for this too.

You immediately missed the protection of the blanket on your skin.

"Is the show over?" He asked smugly, the air around him turned thick with complacency. Your skin flushed red as you recalled how you were feeling yourself up shamelessly right in front of him!

He stood up, striding toward the bed. His rakish intentions clear in his eyes. Feeling shy under his hungry gaze, you tried to clutch a pillow close to yourself. Keyword being tried.

In two quick motions, he had your wrists pinned above your head with one hand and the other gripped your hip. He pressed his body down to yours leaving nary a distance between you two.

"Didn't I tell you," he whispered against your lips, his voice a raspy and deep baritone symphony, "never to hide yourself from me?"

You whined something incoherent back to him.

He chuckled, the sound shooting straight to your core. His hand on your hip traced a path ever so slowly down your thighs and to your knees where he tapped twice.

"Spread your legs, love." His tone sounded reprimanding yet his eyes gleamed with perverse satisfaction. "Seems like I'd have to remind you all over again in great detail this time."

How could you ever refuse him when he looked at you like that?

[emmyrosee]

don’t even try to look at me, I’m not sorry.

———

“I like that thing you do with your tongue.”

The casual way Hitoshi’s words fall from his lips make you tense up, and when your gaze flicks up to meet his gaze, you’re met with a playful glimmer. The lights in your dorm are low lit, only for the street lights outside to brighten up the campus, illuminating college night life.

You and Hitoshi always preferred to stay in, however.

You chuckle and turn your attention back to the hand that’s being held in yours, holding it steady while you paint the nails an elegant purple. “One of the creepiest things you’ve ever said to me, baby.”

“I mean it,” he hums, blinking lazily. He reaches over to nudge your lip with the thumb on his free hand, “when you’re all focused, the tip pokes out of the corner. You’ve done it since UA. ‘S cute.”

“Shush and hold still,” you tease, leaning over to bite the tip of his finger in punishment.

“Hey!” He scoffs. “Don’t mess up my nail polish, freak.”

“I would never,” you assure. The rest of the nail painting is mostly silent, save for passing cars and frat parties, but you and Hitoshi always manage to tune them out, stuck in your own little world where all that thrives is your relationship.

“You’re such a disappointment,” you giggle, swinging a thigh to straddle over his waist. Immediately, massive paws shift up to rest on your hips, thumbs stroking over the meat.

“Yeah?” Hitoshi chuckles, cheshire smirk splayed proud over his face. “And what would your poor daddy say about you spending time with a guy like me? When his kid is supposed to be studying to be the next big thing?”

You snort, leaning down to be nose to nose. Your elbows rest on either side of his head, and he slips his hands past the waistband of your sweats to rest on the dimples of your lower back.

“Daddy doesn’t need to know anything.”

Hitoshi hums in agreement, “might think I’m corrupting you or something.”

“You are corrupting me.”

“Sneaking in your room at night to snuggle isn’t corrupting you,” he sneers, leaning up to peck your lips. “If anything, I think you corrupted me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm.” He leans up once again to nip at your lips, watching with fond eyes as you yelp in surprise. “Makin’ me weak for your affection. Domesticated me. You weren’t supposed to do that.”

He loves the way your smile beams back at him, and he gives you a kiss on your nose.

“Well then,” you chirp. You lay your head on his chest and take selfish, deep inhales of his scent. He smells like cedarwood and citrus, a fragrance you’d bought him for his birthday,

the first one you’d shared together. He snickered and asked ‘what? You don’t love my dollar store cologne?’ but it fills you with a sense of pride to know he wears it so frequently.

Truly domesticated.

“Guess I did my job right.”

[lemon-koii]

TWST: Cater, Ace, Floyd, Rook, Idia, Lilia

MHA: Sero, Kaminari, Monoma, Shinsou, Dabi(only the 2nd message)

[rueclfer]

ruin the friendship // shinsou hitoshi smau

when he needs a fake girlfriend but it's actually just a trial run

a/n: for some reason i let shinsou smaus rot the longest in the drafts sry

[sup-hoes-its-me]

You send them a pick up line

feat: bakugo, midoriya, todoroki, tamaki, sero, shinsou

Summary: (requested) you send the boys a flirty pick up line (pre relationship) and see their reaction. I did a lot of characters for this one so hopefully they are all somewhat decent. Also I did NOT edit these so I hope there aren’t too many mistakes.

ps. sorry for my lateness putting out asks. ive been really stumped on some of them so ill get them out as soon as i can

bakugo:

midoriya:

todoroki:

tamaki:

sero:

shinsou:

[crushmeeren]

Hiii I hope you’re doing well!! I was wondering if you could write Hitoshi shinsou x reader of him absolutely destroying our guts 😊

Thank you!!!

-🐞

♡ Master List Link

♡ Everyone is 18+/aged up — scroll or block if that bothers you.

﴿ Note ⇢ Hello friend! I am doing well and I can definitely write this. I hope you enjoy!

﴿ Another note ⇢ P.S. I write it as ꙳ ﹡ FEM READER ꙳ ﹡ unless specified, but I did try to refrain from using things like good girl, pretty girl, etc. because I wasn’t sure. I did however use female anatomy.

You slam the front door shut so violently the frame rattles, threatening to crack under pressure.

“Everything alright baby?” Hitoshi’s smokey timbre calls out cautiously from the kitchen. He was forewarned about your god awful day out on patrol, so he’s treading carefully.

Your fingernails sink into your palms, teeth creaking as you round the corner to your kitchen. There’s a fury boiling in your chest that’s about to overflow.

“What the fuck do you think? You know how to read, don’t you? Because I already texted you what happened.” There’s a nasty bite to your words, eyes narrowing as your lip curls upwards.

Silence hangs heavily in the air for a few beats.

Hitoshi’s face remains impassive as he stands across the island from you. Casually, he folds his arms over his chest, arching one singular eyebrow at your bitchy tone.

Hitoshi may as well exhale frost when he replies.

“Do you really want to walk down this road tonight?”

Apparently, you do.

When Hitoshi bends you over the side of your bed five minutes later, you’re entirely naked.

He’s got your arms bent and twisted behind your back in the most uncomfortable position as Hitoshi ties your wrists together with part of his capture weapon.

It’s tight — you can barely wiggle your fingers, heartbeat thudding in your fingertips.

A brutal swirl of exasperation and anticipation churns in your stomach. When the underground hero yanks the material even tighter, a layer of sticky sweat gathers in the valley between your tits, and you spasm against the blankets.

“Hitoshi!” You squeak, sucking in air through your teeth. “That hurts, you jerk!” You rise up on your tip toes to try and pull away from his grip, but your shoulders only twinge in protest. Hitoshi looms behind you, snickering as he wrenches your bound wrists upwards and forces you to still.

“Too late sweetheart, you’ve been way too much of a brat tonight for me to care about your comfort. Now, I’m gonna teach you a lesson and fuck that shitty attitude out of you,” he says hotly, confirming what you already knew he was going to do.

A calloused palm presses down in between your shoulder blades, shoving you further down into the bed.

You don’t speak, clenching your jaw in frustration when a hot flush pours over your cheeks. The material of your current restraints dig annoyingly into your skin each time you flex your wrists.

Hitoshi’s hand rains down on your ass, a sharp sting radiating up to your tailbone. He made it his mission for that one to hurt.

A muffled scream of his name punches out of you into the sheets below.

“What is it sweetheart?” He snarls, teasing the soft tip of his cock between the lips of your pussy. “Can’t handle the punishment for being so fucking rude to me?”

Your breath catches, goosebumps taking over your arms. Your clit pulses, pussy eager to swallow his cock whole.

“Well?” He urges, yanking your forearms backwards until your spine arches, lifting your face from the blankets.

Your shoulders ache, throbbing dully and then suddenly a switch flips, all traces of your previous rage draining from your veins.

“I’m sorry Hitoshi!” You sob, voice scratchy and breaking. You shove your hips backwards, trying to get him inside you.

“That’s it pretty baby, good job,” he purrs, gifting you mercy and sliding his cock inside with one effortless motion.

Hitoshi starts fucking you as if he’s attempting to carve a space out inside your guts just for himself. Hips bouncing off your ass until your muscles are going taut, slick pussy suffocating his cock.

He fucks you until you’re a gooey, brain melted mess beneath him. Encouraging you to keep cumming for him, his husky moans dancing in the air when you curse his name.

Afterwards, once your chest stops heaving and your soul has returned to your body, you’re infinitely grateful for a boyfriend like Hitoshi.

“Hitoshi, thank you. I really needed that,” you mumble, throat raw as sandpaper. Hitoshi hums as he swiftly works to free your hands.

“No worries baby. I’ll fuck you into your place anytime you need it,” he teases, tilting his head back in laughter as you punch his shoulder halfheartedly.

Your wretched day is entirely forgotten as you climb into bed that night.