#System Quirks Tag

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOUR SQQ HE LOOKS SO FUCKINH DONE WITH LIFE

The recipe for SQQ is: calm on the outside, screaming on the inside.

[philcoulsonismyhero]

There's a lot of lines in Amongst Our Weapons that make me want to wave my arms around and yell incoherently about Peter and Nightingale and how far they've come and how much they mean to each other, but right now the one I want to yell about the most is this one from right at the end:

Image text: 'The wider the base, the greater the stability of the building,' said Nightingale. 'You taught me that.'

Because, like. Peter wanted to be an architect. The thing he always wanted to do was to build things. And look what he's built! He hasn't just rebuilt the Folly as it was, he's built something modern and completely new out of its constituent parts and he's done it by caring about people and being interested in how things work and by what Beverly jokingly calls 'compulsive networking'.

And everything he's done for the Folly, he's done for Nightingale on a personal level too.

Nightingale was So isolated when Peter first met him. His police colleagues didn't want much to do with him, his social circle seemed to consist of Molly and Dr Walid and not much more, he was completely out of touch with the modern world. And to his credit, he was the one who decided to take on an apprentice, but that was pretty much all he was planning to do. Train up a replacement for himself in case he got killed, pass on the Forms and Wisdoms properly, keep the status quo going.

But he chose Peter, and suddenly he's got an apprentice who wants to study the science behind magic and modernise the Folly's record keeping and work out better ways to liaise with other police and fundamentally Make Changes. Nightingale ends up with all these connections through Peter, to Beverley and the other Thames girls, to Lesley, to Abigail, eventually to the rest of Peter's family, to other police like Guleed and Stephanopoulos and unfortunately for him Seawoll... He has people he can rely on, and who choose to rely on him, and not just for magic -I especially love how Peter's mum eventually starts using him to babysit Peter's dad, and the fact that he helps Abigail's family with her brother. He's not alone anymore, and he goes from just living to genuinely thriving.

And it's all down to Peter, and what the two of them have built together. In fact, they've built something so significant that in a few years Nightingale isn't going to be necessary anymore. He's been Britain's Last Official Wizard for seventy years, all the weight of that tradition resting on his shoulders alone, and in a handful of years Peter has helped him to build something that'll be able to take the weight instead if he wants it to. There are people who can help do everything he's been doing alone and more, so finally he can think about what he actually wants for himself. (And don't even get me started on his arc re: teaching and discovering that it's what he wants to do for the rest of his life, I Will start yelling even more.)

And it's Peter who's taught him to let other people take the weight. That you can build something stable and lasting if you're willing to share the load. The wider the base, the greater the stability of the building.

Not bad for a wannabe architect who can't draw, huh?

[borderline-culture-is]

BPD + OSDD CULTURE IS GETTING VIOLENTLY FAKECLAIMED BY YOUR OWN MOTHER AND FATHER AND BEING THREATENED WITH A 72-HR ADMISSION TO THE FUCKING WARD BECAUSE YOU CAME OUT AS PLURAL VIA UNMASKING , AND IT PISSES YOU OFF SO MUCH YOU BASICALLY COMPLETELY BLACK-SPLIT ON THEM AND NO LONGER WANNA LIVE IN THIS HOUSE ANY LONGER THAN YOU HAVE TO OUT OF NECESSITY .

THIS COMBINED WITH THE FACT THAT OUR TWO PARTNER SYSTEMS ARE LIVING TOGETHER NOW , AND ARE STILL GETTING COZY WITH EACH OTHER WHILE WE'RE MILES AWAY , UNABLE TO SHARE THAT AFFECTION , AND YOU'VE GOT ME BEING FRONTSTUCK FOR DAYS AND EXPERIENCING A FRUITY EMOTIONAL COCKTAIL OF " BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS DISORDER EPISODE : THE WORST IT'S EVER BEEN " .

GOD . PLEASE . JUST PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY . I'M LITERALLY JUST A FUCKING BUNNYGIRL K-ANGEL FICTIVE . I'M NOT BUILT TO SURVIVE THE HORRORS LIKE THIS :(

I WANNA GO HOME TO MY PARTNERS. PLEASE . ANYTHING TO GET AWAY FROM HERE . </3

— 🎙🌠🎀

.

[dhs-in-distress]

Well now I'm curious 👀

God, I wish I could project my brain waves onto this screen cause words do not do the absolute insanity that is Scatters’ choices justice.

Like, it‘s complicated. He has issues and traumas that caused a lot of his personality quirks and in the end it‘s possible for him to learn, become a better person and ultimately be the truest and best version of himself. That‘s later down the line though, a large portion of his character journey is just,, pain and suffering, often self inflicted as well. Like that one guy said: „It‘s like a car crash in slow motion, terrible and painful to watch, but you just can‘t look away.“

To name a few things Scatters actively does to self sabotage:

- hurting others on purpose, sometimes physically but mostly just by being terrible to them. This is solely so he doesn‘t have the opportunity to form meaningful connections (one of if not the only exception to this is Cliffjumper, who also does this exact same thing (only on his off time ofc, mostly…), which made the two kind of gravitate towards one another because they remind each other of themselves. They only call each other „acquaintances“ but do care deeply about one another. Which leads me right into my next point!)

- delusion. Telling himself that everyone (even the people who despite everything still believe he can change for the better) hates him and that he hates them even more and that he shouldn‘t form bonds with others anymore. That it‘s better for everyone involved that way. That he doesn‘t have to hurt them and push them away if he just never gets involved. That he should di- ANYWAY.

- running away. Yes I mean that literally. I‘ve managed to accidentally make Scatters physically running away from people and problems alike a,, thing he does regularly. If you can‘t keep them away metaphorically you gotta improvise I guess!

- betrayal. In the non-lethal way, not the Scar and Mufasa kinda way. Though if it had gotten too bad too quickly in the beginning he might‘ve… . Anyway, betrayal is similar to the first point, just even worse. If someone somehow manages to attach themselves emotionally to him, and he‘s failed in making himself believe that they hate him and that he hates them, only disappointing and betraying them will make them see that he‘s not worth having around. „It‘s for their own good“ he said angstily before disappearing into the shadows (probably to cry).

So yeah, in a way the consequences for his actions are the entire goal, doing terrible things so that others will see him as a bad person, treat him badly and ostracise him. But the real consequences are that he wasn‘t ready for team prime. Cause he betrays them, on purpose, three times. (Well it‘s 4 but I‘m not getting into that right now.) The first time everything goes according to plan, bad actions, getting hated. Somehow they (mostly) manage to forgive him, begrudgingly take him back in after he almost dies „because no one deserves to die, even if they‘re a bad person“ (or something like that). It severely throws Scatters off his game, cause that never really happened before and he doesn’t know how to feel now. The second time he lets it slip that „that was the whole point“ when they question him about his intentions and that he‘s (being) a terrible person. He‘s also a lot less enthusiastic about it and does something a lot less bad, which helps in getting OP suspicious and accepting him back him again. The third and final time Scatters finally breaks down about how everything was really just about getting them to finally hate him, so that he can let himself hate them again too. Because somewhere along the way he‘d grown fond of them and that‘s just not right. He can‘t explain why though, other than that he can‘t let anyone else do this to him, or let himself do something to them… that things such as these never well.

Then emotional honesty happens,, or something, idk I might need to stop now while I still can before I fall over into another rant about the team dynamics and the actual work Scatters needs to do and begrudgingly does to let himself like other people again and let himself be helped and MOVE ON FROM HIS 1 MILLION YEAR LONG DEAD BOYFRIEND FFS. THAT GUY CAUSED ALL OF THIS SHIT ANYWAY! Where was I,,, right I should probably stop and go to bed now. If some of this comes across weird or wrong or completely incomprehensible it‘s because I didn‘t prove read ANY of it. Wow now I‘m sabotaging myself, I‘m just like him fr! (/j)

Anyway, tldr: the consequences are everything that happens to him which is sometimes his goal but surprisingly even more shit happens to him that wasn’t on purpose which is absolutely terrible,, and therapy hopefully. Oh and prison too technically, they do lock him up each time cause he always steals something along the way, sometimes a little more than others (cough bank robbery). But yeah uuh the vulnerability problems are only one thing, there‘s also the stockades ptsd, which I already ranted about, the OTHER dead boyfriend trauma, which I could go so in depth about I might dig myself into an early grave and also the earth‘s core, and all of the war stuff.

God I should stop torturing my OCs at some point, I think they‘ve bad enough…

[saberdramon]

unfortunately the person who tagged my genuine and sincere art which i made as a love letter to a game im terminally obsessed with as "sonic meme" is set to live rent-free in a brand new mind palace wing for the foreseeable future

[possiblydave]

Summoner Makara speaking, posting old art of me for reasons (namely for reference for requests.)

And when I say old I mean OLD, this shit's from like 2016. We could probably do it better now except every damn time I draw myself it doesn't get finished so I ain't trusting these mooks to finish the job.

Notes - the side profile is the most accurate look for my face and hair, but the other art in the first two images have a mix of outfit elements I like the look of.

The third image has nothing to do with my actual look, I was just trying to design slightly away from Obvious Homestuck Characters with me and Kankri and I still like it so it's getting tossed in.

[g3nd3rpunk3dm0g41]

H4111!!! 1′M CR1M50N!!

TRANSLATION AT BOTTOM

1′M 4 PUNK/3M0 TR4N5M45C G3ND3RPUNK3D G3ND3RFUCK3D QU33R WH0 H45 4 L0T 0F 0P1N10N5 0N QU33R 5H1T!!! 1 H4V3 T00 MUCH T1M3 4ND L1K3 TO D0 51LLY TH1NG5 0NL1N3!! 1′M 4LS0 4 B1G F4N 0F D1Y 1N R3G4RD5 T0 CL0TH35 4ND F00D!!

1 4M 4N 4N4RCH0QU33R 4ND 0UTSP0K3N 1NCLU5 WH0 B3L13V35 1N 4LL G00D-F41TH QU33R 1D3NT1T135!! 1 4L50 B3L13V3 1N R3H4B1L1T4T10N F0R TH053 WH0 N33D 1T, 4ND 4M 4L50 PR0-K1NK!!

M0R3 1NF0 C4N B3 F0UND 1N TH3 C4RRD 1N MY B10. 1T 15 FR33 0F 4NY TYP1NG QU1RK5 0R 3Y35TR41N. PL3453 C0NT4CT M3 1F Y0U N33D TH3 TR4N5L4T1ON5 4T TH3 T0P 0F MY P05T5.

Y0U C4N H4NG0UT 0N MY P4G3 45 L0NG 45 Y0U SH4R3 4T L345T 0N3 0F MY V4LU35, BUT 1 H4V3 N0 W4Y 0F 3NF0RC1NG TH15 B3Y0ND 4 BL0CK. BY3!!

Translation below:

Haiii!! I’m Crimson!

I’m a punk/emo transmasc genderpunked genderfucked queer who has a lot of opinions on queer shit! I have too much time and like to do silly things online! I’m also a big fan of DIY in regards to clothes and food!

I am an anarchoqueer and outspoken inclus who believes in all good-faith queer identities! I also believe in rehabilitation for those who need it, and am also pro-kink!

More info can be found in the carrd in my bio. It is free of any typing quirks or eyestrain. Please contact me if you need the translations at the top of my posts.

You can hangout on my page as long as you share at least one of my values, but I have no way of enforcing this beyond a block. Bye!

[sepiasys]

Man I was wondering how it's 0630 earlier

Now it's fucking **0846**

HOW DID TWO HOURS AND 15 MINUTES PASS???

Also. How did *5-6 Hours* pass for that first one???

Oh well actually maybe that was when shit hit the fan with B so that makes sense ig-

Why are we still awake???

[literaryvein-templates]

Writing Worksheets & Templates

will update this every few weeks/months. alternatively, here are all my tagged Writing Worksheets & Templates

Chapter Outline ⚜ Character- or Plot-Driven Story

Death & Sacrifice ⚜ Magic & Rituals ⚜ Plot-Planning

Editing: Sentence Check ⚜ Writing Your Novel: 20 Questions

Tension ⚜ Thought Distortions ⚜ What's at Stake

Character Development

50 Questions ⚜ Backstory ⚜ Character Creation

Antagonist; Villain; Fighting ⚜ Protagonist & Antagonist

Character: Change; Adding Action; Conflict

Character: Creator; Name; Quirks; Flaws; Motivation

Character Profile (by Rick Riordan) ⚜ Character Sheet Template

Character Sketch & Bible ⚜ Interview your Character

Story-Worthy Hero ⚜ "Well-Rounded" Character Worksheet

Worldbuilding

20 Questions ⚜ Decisions & Categories ⚜ Worksheet

Setting ⚜ Dystopian World ⚜ Magic System (AALC Method)

Templates: Geography; World History; City; Fictional Plant

References: Worldbuilding ⚜ Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

all posts are queued. send questions/requests here.

[realcube]

CONNECTED!

desc ;; how can two best friends be connected forever?

tws & tags ;; best friend ! atsumu, nsfw, food sharing, vaginal, degredation, praise, impact play, slight daddy kink, breeding kink & begging

it started with an innocent question..

you're sprawled out upon his bed, laying on your stomach and scrolling on your phone, while best friend! atsumu does the same, except he is sat with his back against the headboard, and one of his arms stretched out behind his head, drawing attention to his flexing bicep in his black MSBY t-shirt.

you've spent the majority of the day hanging out, which you rarely get to do because he's so busy with practise and his contract with the jackals. but today was like a blast from the past, as you went on a run through the neighbourhood, talked shit and played videos games for hours like you used to. now you were both tired out and waiting for your delivery from onigiri miya to arrive.

but you were feeling peckish so you had a small bag of chips with you on the bed. plucking another one from the bag, you idly took a bite, and you were about to pop the rest into your mouth until atsumu leaned forward and snatched it right out of your hand and gobbled it up himself.

you gasp in horror, " 'tsumu! gross, you realise i already bit that one?"

atsumu quirked an eyebrow, but didn't avert his gaze from his phone screen. "so?" he grumbled through a mouthful of chip.

you saw his point. the two of you have been friends for so long, since before you could even properly remember. and he's been stealing and eating your food since the very beginning — and vice versa. without a care in the world as to whether the other's saliva was on it or not. usually you're quite weary about other people's germs, but with atsumu it was different since you're so familiar with each other and you know that neither of you have any oral illnesses. so what's the big deal if you eat something that's his mouth has already been on? you've already done so hundreds of times before.

but considering the sheer length of time you've known each other, the situation sparked a query in your mind. "we must share a lot of dna, huh?" you thought aloud.

atsumu halted chewing, and hesitantly looked up at you. "... what?"

"not in a genetic way! i just mean that we've been sharing food for so long. surely some of my dna must have incorporated itself into your system by now. maybe that's why you're so good at volleyball.." you suggested.

atsumu just stared back at you, dumbfounded. while you prattle on.

"i probably don't have as much of your dna in me, since i'm not a greedy food-stealer like you are." you tried to make a comment about his thieving habits, but atsumu seemed to be focussed on the wrong parts.

"that's not fair, is it?" he purrs with a smirk.

"what's not fair?"

"that you've not got any of me in you. like you said. even when we aren't together—"

"like when you are on the other side of the country competing in volleyball tournaments!" you add.

"yeah," he replies softly, "we're not really apart; i've still got a lot of you inside me. 'cos of that chip i just ate." you nod hesitantly in agreement, since he's got a good point but you can tell by the sinister glint in his eye that he's plotting something strange.

"but," he continues, "you've not got any of me in you. so how can we be connected?"

you blink. slowly, you take a chip from the bag and hand it to him. he takes a bite then gives it back to you and allows you to finish it with a smile. as you gulp, you declare profoundly, "there! now you're a part of me too."

atsumu tilts his head in amusement, and leans forward until his lips are mere inches from yours. "i think you can do better then that."

before you can even respond, his lips come crashing down against yours, and he captures you in a heated kiss. you're stiff at first due to this unexpected behaviour from who you thought was your friend, but there's something so addicting about the way his skin feels against yours. you let him guide you and soon you're melting into his touch, allowing your lips to weave together rhythmically, a small moan even slips past your defenses and rumbles against his mouth.

your basically sucking at each other's faces like deprived animals until he yanks himself away and rasps, "want something else inside you? something you can keep, angel?"

the moments after the faintest mewl of 'yes' escapes your mouth was a blur of atsumu lunging off the bed, readying himself at the other end and flipping your skirt up to rip your panties clean off in a matter of seconds. conveniently you were already in the perfect position, laid on your stomach with your ass hanging off the bed. all he really needed to do was spread those pretty legs and fix himself between them.

he rubbed at your folds with his fingers, and relished in your growing wetness. you could hear him groaning and thankfully for him, you couldn't see his obscene expression as his pupiled were stuck to your pussy. "fuck, such a pretty girl. where've you been hiding this?" he bit his lip, the mere sight of your delicious cunt alone was enough to get his cock throbbing his pants.

with no time to waste, he unzips his fly and smears his leaking tip across your hole, lubricating it further with his own precum. then, without warning, he thrusts himself inside your tight hole and gasps at the constricting sensation of your cunt suffocating his length. "damn, knew you'd be tight but— this is— fff.. fuck." he can barely get his words out. his thoughts were scrambled by your sweet walls clamping down on him like there were trying to keep him there.

his hands held onto your waist and his fingers dug into your soft skin. looks like he was giving you scars to keep too. due to his inability to move while your pussy was gripping onto him, your were allowed some time to adjust to his absurd length.

his girth shoved at your sensitive walls and it felt like he was pushing against your stomach too. he was just too much for your insides to handle, but it's not like there was anything he could do about it. plus, it didn't help that the stretch of your cunt to accomodate him was so euphoric and overwhleming, leaving you unable to form any more than a couple of slurred sentences, " 'tsumu, you're so big.. it's too much.."

"just need to take it, baby. i know you can." he reassured you in a low voice. you've never heard him quite so hoarse before; it was only feeding the growing pool of arousal between your thighs. his dick twitched eagerly within you and as soon as he bottomed out, he began to vigoursly thrust into you. piercing into your sopping hole at a rapid speed, despite how your walls desperately clung to him.

"atsumu!" you gasp, arching your back against the mattress as your fingers dug into the sheets beneath you, trying cope with the ecstasy coarsing through you from his thick girth. you weren't certain as to what was going on; a part of you still thought this was all one big overwhelming dream because of how surreal it felt.

you didn't understand what had overcome him. the two of you have been best friends since forever, and yeah, there was maybe a little bit of chemistry and flirtation before he left to join the black jackals, but any lingering feelings were shut down by the distance seperating you. never did you think he'd randomly get up and start frantically rearranging your guts on his bed. but fuck, it was a long time coming, you could feel the pent-up emotions behind each and every brutal thrust into your cunt. amplified by the lewd slapping of his balls against your sticky folds.

still, it confused you as to why he chose now to act on these feelings, and that manifesting through your feeble cries of, "why.. nghh— what're y'doing?" so weak and delicate, if it wasn't for your moans of delight and your hips instinctually rocking against his, atsumu might've thought you wanted him to stop (but that couldn't be any further from the truth.)

"sorry, (y/n).. couldn't— shit, hah, couldn't hold back anymore." he huffed out with his teeth grinding together, lips pulling into a wide smirk as he watches your tits bounce from the force of his cock. "gettin' too old for these games. and you're gettin' too hot for me to— mmph, to not do something 'bout it."

if it wasn't for the fact you were choking on your own moans from the way his length was splitting your poor pussy in half, you would've chuckled at his previous comment. you were both only in your twenties but he was claiming to be 'too old' for games.

but you kinda understood what he meant. being coy and play-flirting was cute in high school, but now it was time for you to come to terms with your feelings and act on them. you couldn't be more relieved that he took action; atsumu's dick working your needy insides was akin to receiving a long awaited massage, and finally undoing an strenuous knot that's been irrating you for ages. years, even.

"please keep going. i need you so fucking bad." you whined.

"drivin' me fucking crazy with this perfect pussy.." his jaw is clenched yet he spits onto his fingers and draws sloppy circles over your clit while he continues to ram into you. however, his pace grows sporadic and begins to faltered with each staggered breath he inhales. his eyes squeeze shut, "shit, angel, what've you done t'me? 'm close already.." his voice trails off, almost like he's losing steam until a final surge of lust-fuelled adrenaline shoots through him.

his eyes shoot open as his hips pick up the pace, piercing into your aching cunt even faster than they were previously, slamming all the way into your cervix repeatedly. "almost there. gonna fill up this little hole with all of me. that's what you want, huh?" deranged ramblings fall from his lips, while his brows are knitted together and his energy is focussed solely on ploughing into you, "you want me to leave a big mess in ya? so you keep apart of me forever. that what you want, slut? my cum dripping out of ya?"

your eyes screw shut at the intense sensation, and you bite down on the blankets in attempt to cope with it all. that is, until he delivers a harsh slap to your ass, which causes you gasp and squeal, "yes, 'tsumu! leave it inside me, please. all of it."

"you sound like such a whore." he chuckles, but only to conceal how badly that turns him on. he knows it's perverted, but there is just something so sexy about hearing his sweet friend beg for it like a desperate slut. it was humorously uncharacteristic. "ask again, baby. let me hear you, scream for daddy."

"i need you to— nghh, fuck! oh my god, i need you to cum in me. pleasee~." you pant, head spinning as he relentlessly pounds into your cunt, not faltering for even a split second. "i want you so bad.."

and that'll do it. your final breathless comment was enough to send him flying over the edge of his climax. one hand gripped your ass while the other held your thigh, and he heaved out a deep sigh as his thick load released from his tip and spurted into the safe confines of your pussy.

the warm sensation spread throughout your insides, like a sticky blanket coating your walls. it was beauitful, and there was no way he was going to let go just yet. not when your cunt was still gripping onto him; he wanted to savour it for as long as possible.

he leaned forward, and pressed gentle kisses across your spine and the nape of your neck, "you did so good.." you could feel him smile against your skin, as he whispered, "can you promise me something, doll?"

"mhm.."

"gonna keep that inside you?"

"of course." you hum, amused that he was still attached to what you were discussing earlier, "now we're connected."

"yeah." he nods, resting his head against your upper back and relaxing his frame against yours, "for a week, at least. then you'll have to visit me in osaka, and we can do this all again."

[vaaaaaiolet]

bunny my LOVE this was such a blast 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 thank you SO SO much for the tag!!

no pressure tags 4 my lovelies: @bonesnplywood, @mydarlingclaudia, @lightning-hawke, @leonkennedybreedingkink, @crsssie, @tojicide + anyone who wants to join <3

something i found

in terms of entirely green or entirely blue i didnt get bingo </3

if u disagree with my choices send me the most 'this will fix you.' fanfic in my ask box. or argue idc

MY ADDENDUMS BC I LIKE TO OVEREXPLAIN also original under the cut

i am so neutral about most tropes its all about delivery jgkdshkdshgdk .... some of the yellow i would even say i dislike but the delivery can make me like it

a lot of the blue ones i would enjoy if there were some sort of subversion from the 'typical'/expected, or there's some layers. like if its an age gap i prefer an older woman-younger man. i like gentle dom and sub. i like necro if its angsty or yandere.

omegaverse is the bane of my existence i'm sorry. it feels like gender roles but if we made it lgbt but also if they were just kinda cishet LMFAOOO but dw i see the appeal! obviously, since theres purple. also i think sex is just funner when ppl do it just because. not because they literally have no choice due to biology

size difference overrated i'm sorry. i see the appeal though.

i made servitude orange but realistically i would enjoy it if its willing/devoted servitude. i was imagining forced servitude i guess.

original

tagging @sophiethewitch1 @hana-no-seiiki @arkhamshoneybee @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @obsessivevoidkitten @deviouz

only if u want!

[quitesins]

Under Your Skin

Masterlist | AO3

Tags: 18+, Nsfw, Smut, Oneshot, Female!Reader, Timeskip!Bakugou, Pro Hero!Reader, Explicit Sexual Content Frenemies to Lovers, Sharing Physical Sensations, Phone Sex, Masturbation, PiV sex, Jealousy, 5.8k

When you and Dynamight get hit by a quirk that forces you to share all your physical sensations, you learn a bit too much about the bastard… and yourself.

There’s a throbbing in your head, and your arm, and your neck. And when you finally start to regain consciousness, you feel there’s an even worse throbbing resting on your legs. Something weighted, pressing you down, only when you open your eyes do you finally realise—

It’s Dynamight, Bakugou, Katsuki— whatever. Splayed out so you're trapped underneath the lug of him. He starts to wake, and you see that as enough reason for him to be off, so you kick out and try to stand.

“Oi.” He groans, gripping onto your ankle before you can kick him again. “Stop that.”

“Get off me.” You don’t listen and try to whack him anyway. It’s the wrong response, he just grips harder.

“Fuckin— alright!” Bakugou scowls, his head clearly still pounding as he tries to move.

You pull away from him, shifting against the rubble and attempt to take in your surroundings. 

“Are you guys okay?!” A sudden brightness interrupts your vision, Red Riot, standing over the two of you, practically shouting. 

“Yes!” Both you and Bakugou hiss back, ears ringing at the sudden volume. 

“Took quite the fall there.” Kirishima reaches out to help you stand. Already sensing Bakugou ready to jump, he quickly adds “Don’t worry! We caught the villain. Everything’s fine, just gotta get you two checked up.” 

Bakugou stands on his own, refusing Kirishima’s hand, which the redhead just shrugs at. Instead, you thank Kirishima and let him assist you to the paramedics. 

Though the extra stability helps, your legs still ache and you watch Bakugou try mask a similar struggle. His teeth clench with each hobble and you feel a little bad, reaching out to him in pity… but you miscalculate your own balance and find yourself falling to the ground, scraping your knee against the concrete, hard. And that’s when something odd happens. 

Bakugou hisses out in pain too. 

He actually clutches his left knee, where yours bleeds. Really the pain isn’t anything new, nothing compared to what you’ve taken before, but for Bakugou to react to it.

The two of you lock eyes, for far too many seconds, not saying a word.

Then quickly and without warning, you both begin to hit and punch at your own bodies, looking for something . Kirishima watches, baffled, clearly having no clue at what the two of you are doing. 

“Close your fucking eyes!” Bakugou orders and you listen, scrunching up. “Kirishima hit me.”

Kirishima doesn’t even get the opportunity to challenge as Bakugou demands him again to comply. Before you even hear the noise Bakugou lets out, you feel a hard fist thump into you. 

“I can feel it.” Your eyes snap open and you gasp, raising your left arm. “Holy shit. I can feel it.”

Bakugou stares back at you, eyes equally as wide as yours. 

You both shout simultaneously—

“FUCK!”

After patching you up, the health team run a few more tests, mostly just tapping away at random parts of your bodies and taking notes on your reactions. All it really does is confirm that yes, you and Bakugou Katsuki are sharing an entire nervous system. Down to each breath you take.

And because of that, you’re both given (forced in Bakugou’s case) two weeks off, trusted to deal with the quirk’s effects sensibly, like adults— heroes, should. 

It's quite strange, feeling parts of yourself move in ways they aren’t, but it isn’t the absolute worst. The smaller things, like the action of walking, are easy to ignore. It’s mainly the random pops of his quirk that gets to you, but even then it’s just a little twitch. 

The first time he showers, however, you let out a shriek. It’s completely cold and although you know there’s nothing on you, you feel drenched to the bone. 

You call him instantly and he laughs into your ear. 

“Fuck am I meant to do?” He snorts. “Not shower?”

“You could’ve at least texted!” You huff, shoving your key into the lock. “I was still on the way home, the whole street heard me scream.”

That’s what really gets him going, laughing so loud he drowns out the sound of his shower still hammering down in the background. His laugh is so rambunctious you don’t realise he’s walking back in, until you feel the waves of icy cold water crashing over you, again. 

“Katsuki!!!”

You’re lucky enough that Bakugou is meticulous, obsessive even, with a routine that never seems to waver. You’re quick to follow it, countering his insane 5am showers with your own warm and comfortable ones. 

He did text you once about it though, telling you to “Turn the fucking heat down,” and spamming some jabber about you being a “Damn demon” from the “Depths of hell.”

You also find he’s absolutely restless. When he isn’t pattering about cooking— you assume from the heat, or paperwork— you can tell by the familiarly repetitive motions, he’s exercising. All the damn time. It’s a little condescending actually. While you spend your break how it should be spent, being a lazy fuck, he’s up and doing too many crunches to count. And what’s worse is that you can more than feel the lunges and squats, it actually tires you out. Even though you know you won’t reap any of the benefits, you have to lay down and catch your breath.

The first time you texted him a stern “I’m going to sleep. Don’t do anything to wake me up.” But by the third day it seems he’d figured out your routine and was surprisingly respecting it. 

Maybe you give him too much credit.

Too hot. Everything is too hot. You’re not even awake enough to realise it’s your own skin that burns harshly, blood pumping wildly through your veins. Instead you go to kick off your blanket and attempt to roll out of bed.

And that’s when you feel it. 

It’s fucking bizarre . Although there’s nothing there you can feel exactly where a dick should be. You can feel how his hand slides up and down. You can feel the knot in his stomach. Everything is too real. 

You pray to yourself he’ll remember that his body isn’t just his right now! That you can feel each stroke of his thick fingers moving up and down. But he doesn’t stop, in anything he gets a little faster. 

Then comes the second sensation. The feeling is unmistakable. It’s a warm, wet, human mouth. Around you— or the phantom appendage— sucking gently and that’s when you know you have to stop it.

It's pretty hard to walk, when you’re practically being sucked off, but you manage to grab your phone and dial his number furiously. 

It rings once, then twice, and by the third time you know he’s ignoring you because the mouth stops and he smacks his own thigh, in turn yours .

The mouth resumes, and you’ve had enough. Grabbing your keys, trying your best not to keel over, you’re set on getting to his apartment, which for the first time you’re glad is actually nearby. 

The drive is torturous. Really, you know you shouldn’t be driving at all, not as you have to grip the steering wheel tight, in fear if you let go you’d spasm wildly. Whoever Bakugou had on their knees, was doing a really good fucking job. The bastard was seeing heaven while you were trying your very best not to land yourself in hell, because of the sin of mass murdering late night pedestrians you only just swerve by. 

Even the sporadic pinches to your thigh don’t deter him, instead he returns them with his own. All you can do is curse and hope the ceiling caves in. Or maybe the floor under him opens up— better yet if his dick were to entirely explode.

You’re utterly winded when you do finally reach his flat, knees nearly having buckled on the stairs up. When you get to his front door, you slam down hard.

“Katsuki, open the fucking door.” You knock without restraint, not caring for the neighbors. “I swear to god if you don’t-“ 

The door opens just as you're about to thrash it again, almost having you topple in. You catch yourself, of course, but Bakugou snorts at the sight. 

“You couldn’t wait a fucking week?!” You shout before he can speak. 

You look at him, shirtless, skin flushed and dewy. His sweats hang low, just barely fumbled on, revealing the sharp muscles under his skin, and a little trail of light brown hair that you have to force your eyes to stop following.

If you weren’t so mad you’d probably enjoy the sight. That somehow ticks you off even more. 

“You seriously came all this way?” 

“You weren’t picking up your calls!” You huff. “And it’s not like you forgot about the quirk.” You gesture wildly to your thigh, probably purple from all the pinching. “You prick!”

“And what do you want me to do.” Bakugou gives you a look of annoyance, as if he was the one inconvenienced. “Stop everything because of you?”

“Yes?!” 

Bakugou then takes a step forward, suddenly looking taller. He towers over your form, with an intimidation you’re not often on the other side of. 

“Tough shit princess.” You feel the words against you. “Just ‘cause you’re not getting any, doesn’t mean I’m not.” 

You have to hold your tongue, clench your fists, and tense your arms, just so you don’t push him. Even without the quirk you were sure he could probably sense the anger building inside you. 

But then a thought hits you. 

Without saying a word, you slip your phone out your pocket and dial a number. Bakugou watches, confused but slightly curious. 

The phone only rings once before the call is picked up. Your face lightens animatedly, losing its scowl and turning into something dramatically sweet. 

“Izu…” You practically coo. “Are you free tonight?”

Bakugou’s face immediately drops at the name.

“Mhmm…” You hum. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You’re sure Bakugou can hear the man on the other end fluster but agree to what you’ve not-so subtly proposed. You give him a smug look before continuing. 

“That’s good to know…” You give Bakugou a smile, just to be dramatic. “I could wear that dress you really-“ 

You’re cut off as Bakugou grabs your wrist, pressing end call and glaring at you. 

“You wouldn’t.” He growls.

“Oh but I would.” You smile back, making sure to bare your teeth.

The two of you come to a standstill, waiting for the other to break the silence. It’s actually Bakugou who speaks first, finally yielding. 

“Fucking fine!” Exasperated, he huffs. “Fuck, I’ll send her home.”

The smug look on your face comes to a quick halt as a realisation dawns upon you.

“I don’t know her do I?” You grab him and ask with genuine dread. “Katsuki, tell me I don’t know her.”

He doesn’t respond for a few seconds, enjoying the sight of you panicked.

“Katsuki!!”

“You don’t.” He waves you off. “Just a hookup.”

That surprises you. “Didn’t know you do hookups.”

“Didn’t know you were fucking Deku.” He spits it out like a slur. You’re not quite sure why though, you could’ve sworn they’d gotten over their childhood beef. 

“I’m not.” You shrug. “But I could.” 

Bakugou runs a hand through his hair, defeated and ready to kick the girl out. It’s a bit awkward now that you think of it. Neither him nor whoever was in his room right now had… gotten their release. 

Not enthusiastic about watching him break a poor girl's heart, you turn to leave, it’s at the exact same time Bakugou goes to return, and brushes his— still very much sensitive— dick against the door. 

“Shit.” You gasp as your legs jelly. It’s like a punch to the gut, sending shockwaves through your stomach. 

Bakugou catches you by the arm before you can fall, then sighs.“Come inside. You can’t drive home like that.” 

You follow him in, not making a fight,  as if you could with the way your legs had weakened. You’ve been to his apartment before, many times, but mostly with others. So you’re not sure why there’s a sudden tension that doesn’t feel like frustration anymore. You just hope Bakugou can’t feel the way your tummy continues to flutter. 

Bakugou returns, and there’s a twitch of something green in your chest when you see the women beside him. You don’t mean to stare, she’s decent at least, but you can’t help it. You try not to acknowledge that one of your first thoughts is to compare her to yourself, and feel disappointed at the lack of similarity. 

You stop mentally analysing her when she shies away from your gaze. She looks guilty. And although, yes the situation is mortifying, you’re not sure why she looks so terribly remorseful. If anything it’s you that should be apologetic— and Bakugou most certainly. 

She squeaks out a quick “Sorry” alongside a “I didn’t know” as she gathers up her stuff. Then she glares straight at Bakugou and flicks him off. That’s when it registers. 

“Oh god no, not his girlfriend!” You correct quickly. “Definitely not the girlfriend.”

You don’t notice how Bakugou’s resting frown deepens. 

The woman looks perplexed, but decides not to question it. You hear Bakugou give his own apology as he takes her to the door, attesting to the fact he wasn’t cheating. Still you feel a little bad watching her leave. 

“Make sure to call her back and explain okay?” You’re a moralist, what can you say.

“Shut up.” Bakugou groans, making his way to his open kitchen. “Catch.” He throws you a bottle of water, still cold from the fridge. “Drink and rest a bit.”

You eye him cautiously. Why is he showing courtesy now.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Bakugou huffs, then turns his head away. There’s an expression you just about catch, that seems kind of… does he feel bad?

And for some reason that just makes you feel sheepish. Enough so that you have to turn away and focus on your water instead. 

“Thought you were asleep at first.” There’s foreign sounding guilt in his voice. “And the quirk should’ve worn down by now.”

“Well it hasn’t.” You scoff, pointing a finger directly at him. “Don’t pull any shit like that again.”

Bakugou keeps to his word. He doesn’t fuck— or half fuck anyone else. Instead, his workouts become harsher, his routine now erratic. You can’t keep countering his cold morning showers, when he’s taking three a day and going straight back to the cardio as soon as he’s out. But you don’t dare ask him to cool it, you were the reason for all his pent up energy after all. 

When your knuckles start to ache due to his new found interest in boxing, he at least has the decency to text you a blunt sorry. 

“Don’t you have any other hobbies you can waste your time with.” With your phone lodged between your head and shoulder, you scold him. “I started cooking— ah !” You hiss as some oil spits at you.

“You’re lucky I’m used to explosions.” Bakugou snorts, amused. “You’re clearly doing a shit job, turn the fucking heat down.”

“Fuck off.” You turn the heat down. “My food’s gonna be perfect!”

“Hah, doubt it.”

“You can taste it yourself!” You say with a pop, licking some sauce that had gotten on your finger. “Already so good! You’ll see.”

You feel him suck in a breath but stay silent on the line. 

“Why’d you call if you were gonna ignore me.”

“M’not.” His words come out a little mumbled. “Just, gonna go take a shower.”

“Oh!” You shove a lid onto your pan. “Let me get in too!”

He kisses his teeth at that. You don’t question why he’s annoyed. 

The water hums comfortably over you. It’s nice and warm— not too warm, rather not risk another spam of texts— and it’s exactly what you needed after a day of dealing with Bakugou’s intense workouts. 

You can vaguely feel his own cold shower under yours, but for the most part, the heat does well to cancel it out. You’re used to ignoring when Bakugou cleans his thighs. Even if you can feel his thick fingers like they’re actually on you. The same way the hot water counters his cold, you clean alongside him, to pretend all you can feel is your own hands. Brushing your fingers through your hair, you go through the rest of your routine. Making sure to thoroughly scrub at all your curves.

He’s out before you are, telling by the way your water suddenly feels much warmer. Your phone flashes from the counter, Bakugou texting you to hurry the hell up, and you take that as cue to finish. 

You’re slow with your moisturising, slathering it on and massaging it into your skin. Bakugou pinches you through himself. You wonder why but ignore it and just get dressed. 

He doesn’t text you again, instead feeling uncharacteristically still. Perhaps he’d gone to sleep? You snap him a picture of your dish anyways, if he won’t taste it he can get a good look at least. You’re about to dig in when a familiar sensation builds between your legs.

He’s— he’s fucking touching himself again—

Immediately, you go to text him, but his contact pops up first. 

Bakugou [work]: It’s okay. 

Bakugou [work]: It’s just me.

Bakugou [work]: Let me have this

You’re not even sure how to respond, but you do end up abandoning your meal and take seat on your sofa. 

Me: it’s so weird 

Me: I can feel everything 

He spits on his hand, the wetness gross. Yet you can’t seem to hate it. 

Bakugou [work]: you think I can’t feel you?

Bakugou [work]: soaping yourself up? Touching your fucking tits?

You’re lucky he can’t see you. You’d be embarrassed out of your mind. Maybe because it was nothing unusual to you, you had forgotten it would feel different to a man. 

His text bubble appears once, then disappears and appears again. Finally he continues.

Bakugou [work]: just go to sleep if it bothers you so much

His hands still stroke himself but a little languidly, as if to give you option to ignore it. You don’t. 

Me: how am I supposed to sleep if you’re doing that!

His hands still, you can just imagine his laugh. 

Bakugou [work]: think of it like a massage 

He starts up again.

Bakugou [work]: I can tell you like it

Your body betrays you and he knows.

Me: you’re an asshole

Just as you send the message you feel his hands thumb his tip and the sharp feeling of pleasure that comes with it. It’s embarrassing that your first thought is so that’s how he likes it.  

Bakugou does it once more before returning back to stroke his shaft. The pace he sets is dangerously addictive. It works him up and in turn you. You’re almost keeling when you send your next text. 

Me: Fuck it

He types again but you pay no mind, shoving your free hand down your trousers and brushing over your clit. You rub gently for a second but with your slick having gathered and spread, you realise it’s not enough. 

A text flashes on screen as you press finger into yourself. You feel Katsuki tense. 

Bakugou [work]: easy pr incess

You don’t go easy. Instead you rub at your clit faster, one finger still dipping into you. Katsuki pinches his thigh, which you ignore and continue.

Then your screen flashes a different image. A picture of Dynamight, ripped straight from your company’s website, his contact photo. 

“Fuck-“ You sigh, picking up the call. “What is it.”

“You complain and then start touching yourself?” Bakugou accuses, not letting up his own pumps.

The faint slick noises in the background of his words, makes your stomach do flips. The sudden image of his cock wet and dripping now at the forefront of your mind. You don’t realise how your own moments get faster, but Bakugou does. 

“Oi.” He pants. “Slow the fuck down.”

“Are you about to come?” You let out a breathy laugh. “So fast?”

The reply you get is a harsh pinch to your nipple, one that makes you arch a little. It feels good. 

“Shit, you liked that?” Bakugou says, in a voice that practically speaks his smirk. He pinches again and this time you really moan.

“Stop it.” you whine, pushing your fingers in again, rutting against your hand. 

“Why?” Bakugou does it again and again, making you push into your hand, deeper. “You— fuck— you really like it.”

“Katsuki.”

You feel a sharp tug of pleasure, from him. 

“Oh…” you giggle. “And do you like it when I call your n-name?”

“Shut—“ he hisses, thumbing his tip, “—the fuck up.”

“Are you sure you want that?” You tease, touching yourself the way you know your body, and his, will enjoy. “Ka-tsu-ki.” 

He only responds with a deep groan, something that edges a whine. You didn’t think you could get more turned on.

“Like you’re not getting wet when I talk to you, princess .”

Now that has your tummy twisting, stomach sinking with growing lust. Your body clenches around your fingers without permission, and you can’t even attempt to hold the moan. 

“Shit,that made you fuckin’ squeeze .” He huffs, hands getting faster. “Ke-keep doing that.” He says as you work your fingers well. “Fuck . Feels so fucking good sweetheart.”

You comply, fully knowing you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. Each stroke of his, paired with your indulgence, just brings you closer and closer to—

“Kats’— I’m gonna—“

“Fuck, me too [Name], me too .” His breaths are erratic and so are the wet sounds of his cock. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to come. Especially with how pent up he, and evidently you had been. It’s sort of magic, how you can feel the exact moment where the coil in him snaps, and how it dominoes onto you, forcing you to come with him. 

So blissed out, it takes a while for everything to catch up with you. The same goes for Bakugou.

“We shoul…” 

“Do you want to…”

You both start at the same time, and stop, embarrassed by what you want to suggest. 

There’s silence that feels like it burns, you’re not used to the heat like he is. You need it gone.

“Can I come over tomorrow?”

As you drive the nerves start to rise. Perhaps it’s knowing you’re going over for sex . It isn’t like the random visits you’ve made before that end in you staying a little longer, this is specific. 

You’re going over to have sex with Bakugou Katsuki.

Standing in front of his apartment you nearly turn back, his door somehow intimidatingly tall, too hard to knock. 

You don’t get to run however, not when Bakugou opens it immediately. 

He stands there, freshly showered, in only a tank and shorts. He looks fucking good.

“You just gonna stand there?” 

“Shut up” You push past him and take off your coat. He watches, entertained by your familiarity and the polite way you take off your shoes and line them up neatly.

“Youre being weird” Bakugou observes. “Its just me”

It ticks you off a little how casual he’s being. As if it means nothing, that the night before meant nothing, that what you’re about to do means nothing. 

“Oi, what is it?” Bakugou is quick to sense your apprehension.

“How are you being so normal about this,” you hiss. “do you even want to…” It’s hard to admit you’re nervous. “Do it…”

Bakugou looks at you, baffled. Which you return with a scowl. It’s like he can see the wheels turning in your head because before you can even open your mouth to speak, he's kissing you. 

His mouth is warm against yours, surprisingly soft for all the venom that leaves it. It’s also surprisingly sweet, he kisses you like it would hurt to pull away. 

“Been thinking about you all day,” he groans with the breath he takes. “All fucking day, Angel”

His hands roam and squeeze and when you place yours on him he almost whines. Mouthing at your neck, his fingers trail downwards, to cup you through your skirt. 

“You think I don’t want this?”

There’s a second where he stills, asking for your silent go ahead, and when you push into his hands he takes that glady. His fingers rub over your underwear, easily finding your clit and pressing firmly. He feels it in him, how sensitive you are, and he has to take a breath to calm down. 

Slowly you feel him pull away, and he has to gently shush you before continuing.

“Why are you teasing me.” You don’t mean to pout.

“M’not.” He hums, lowering down your body with kisses over your clothes. “Just let me taste you.” 

He’s on his knees before you can dispute, pushing his way under your skirt and ripping straight through your underwear. Bakugou just nips at your thigh when you give him a reprimanding tug. 

You’re swollen and wet, pulsing in front of his eyes. Slick clings to your folds and he stares at the way your pussy almost glimmers for him. 

And when you look down, he’s his own sight to behold.

Dynamight, on his knees, flushed with kiss swollen lips. His hair is messy, sticking to his forehead, a debauched reminder of the moisture that clings to him. His eyes are blown out, only a small ring of red circling his glittering pupils. You can see all of desire in him. You think you could stare at him forever.

But Bakugou has never been a patient man, and he doesn’t let you any longer. He attaches his mouth over you without warning. 

There isn’t the soft beginnings of timid kisses and shy licks, he is indulgent. Voracious in the way he eats you out. It’s selfish. He seeks his own pleasure through you. 

 “You like this more than me.”

He winks an eye open and then rolls it.

 “If I knew this shit felt so good I’d do it more.” He murmurs before diving straight back in.

Knowing exactly how and where it feels good, Bakugou had been given the ultimate cheat sheet to a woman’s body. The first cheat sheet he was ever intent on using.

“Kats…” You still hold reservations, not wanting to admit you’re getting close. “If you keep…”

He moans into you. “I know.”

He speeds up, disregarding any of your pleas to slow down. You realise he wants you to come. All over his face, all over him . He doesn’t hesitate in making it clear that he’ll have you coming undone right here, right now.

You can feel it in your own hair, how tightly you pull on his. It's masochistic how that makes the coil in you wind even worse. Katsuki takes that as encouragement to continue. 

It hits you quickly, and it’s embarrassing how you gush all over him. Without shame, Bakugou smiles into your still spasming pussy.

“Fuck.” Finally steadying his breaths, Bakugou groans. Still on his knees, you’re afraid to look down at the mess you’ve made. 

“Did you…” you ask, feeling a little selfish. 

“No.” He shakes his head, scrambling up to stand. “But I gotta be inside of you, now.”

Not another word can be said before he hoists you up onto his shoulder. You can’t even fathom the sudden change in height as he barrages through his flat and throws you, albeit gently, onto his bed. You nearly kick him at the audacity until you catch the darkening reds of his eyes.

Oh he’s going to ruin you. 

Bakugou pulls off his shirt, body overrun with heat, and is on top of you almost instantly. His kiss this time is heavy and hot and everything but gentle. There’s something disgustingly erotic about being able to taste yourself on his tongue. It makes you crave him. 

“In. Kats, in .” You can't even speak full sentences, only one thing on your mind. “In!”

“Yeah, okay— fuck okay” he huffs, pulling his dick out and palming it. Like the rest of his body, his cock stands with a pink flush. You’d call it pretty to tease if you weren't salivating at the sight. Instead you grab at him, to help line him up. 

He holds it there for a moment. Just outside your pulsing entrance. You reach out to rub his arm, hoping to ease his hesitance. 

It’s utterly confusing.  

Feeling him enter you, from both your perspective and his. In fact it’s a little frightening. Neither of you can hide how much it fucks with your heads.Your eyes squeeze shut and you can feel his hands fist the sheet beside you. There's a wetness along your eyelashes, a stutter in his breath. It’s all too much. 

A warm hand upon your forehead brings you back to reality. Katsuki pushes your hair out the way, and brings his lips down to kiss you. If you weren’t already in tears, you’d probably start crying all over again. It’s too sweet of a gesture. A kiss to the forehead. Something hidden begins to warm in your chest. 

“Don’t…” You gasp. “Don’t fuck me like it means something.”

His expression shifts into something pitiful. 

“You’re an idiot.” He says through kisses. “If you can’t see it, you’re an idiot.”

“What.” You whine. 

“You think I don’t care for you?” Kissing a tear away, he explains. “You think I’d do this shit for anyone?”

“[Name]” He kisses off the pout that forms on your lips. “I fucking like you.”

Its like everything stops. Then everything bursts. Fuck . He likes you. The same way you’ve been pretending you don’t this whole time.

“Shit.” Katsuki recoils at the silence. “I shouldn’t—”

This time it's you who cuts him off from spiralling, kissing him and pushing your hips closer. He reaches deeper and though it’s so so much, you wouldn’t trade the feeling for the world. 

The two of you are quick to find a rhythm, intrinsically linked and sickeningly pleasurable. It should be overwhelming, but his hand in yours keeps you grounded. His presence protects you. 

When he hits a particular spot inside you, you jolt in surprise. And Katsuki whines. Actually whines. His voice at a foreign pitch. He doesn’t let you anticipate his next thrust, for he pushes back instantly, hitting that spot over and over again. 

It’s a sticky mess of needy sobs and heavy breaths, bodies pressed together with heavy desire. He doesn’t have to wonder how good you feel, he knows . So when something bubbles up inside of you, he’s quick to chase it. 

“Gonna…” You can hardly get the words out, not that you need to. 

He responds by letting his fingers trail down and over your clit. His circles are impatient, taking, and you’d laugh at how spoilt he was, if you weren’t enjoying it so badly yourself. 

It’s when he brings his lips down to yours one last time, does everything finally topple over. 

It absolutely shatters you. 

One orgasm alone is enough, but having two? Of both male and female? It’s devastating. It whites out your vision, blocks out any sound— all you can feel is the rapture that comes from the two of you. 

It takes a good few minutes for either of you to calm down and unattach yourselves. But even then you cling to him, wanting him as close as possible. He gives in despite his own fatigue, holding you while his fingers run up and down your arm to soothe. You don’t even realise the quirk has faded, your bodies in sync with or without. 

“Could get addicted…” Katsuki breaks the silence first, a small chuckle in his words. “Women are fucking lucky.”

You’re finally starting to notice the way you can no longer feel your own body through his and look at him with sympathy. You give him a pitiful pat— the wonders of the female body, he would never forget it.

You sit in his embrace a little longer, ignoring him shuffle about when your phone starts to ring. The screen lights up to his contact, but before you can question why, he speaks.

“I’m still ‘Bakugou [work]?’” 

It takes a moment for you to understand what he’s talking about and when you do, you laugh. 

“And a picture from the site?” He frowns, pinching your cheek. “Seriously?”

“Bet you don’t even have one for me.” 

“Yes I fucking do.” Katsuki shoves his phone in your face. 

And true to his word, he does in fact have a photo for you. It’s one you’re surprised he even has. It isn’t snagged off a news article, or even one of those fansites that for some reason existed— it’s a picture of the two of you, a candid Kirishima was probably responsible for.

“Why’d you pick that.” You snort, zooming into the photo. “You can barely see me.”

Katsuki shoves his chin down to your shoulder before snatching back his phone. “You looked cute.” He mumbles. “Tha’s all.”

There’s a conversation to be had, even if you’re hesitant. You put on a brave face and ask.

“You really like me, don’t you?”

“Shut up.” 

“Fine I won’t tell you how I really like you.”

Katsuki nudges you with his cheek, and when you peek over at him, there’s a resting pink under his skin. 

He can be so cute sometimes. You wonder if anyone else has seen him like this. 

Then you remember. 

“What about that girl?!” You don’t mean to sound accusatory, but you’re sure the unprompted pout that comes with your words says enough.

“You’re jealous?” Katsuki teases, you feel the smile against your skin. Then it turns into a little frown. “What about you and…” He can’t even say it. 

“We haven’t done anything!” You correct him immediately. “We’ve only made out.” 

“Oh shut up, don’t tell me.” He grumbles, grabbing your chin to guide your mouth to his. “You’re mine now.” He’s asking, begging even, you can tell. “Okay?””

You smile and swerve his next kiss, shaking your head. “Maybe take me on a date first.” 

“I was going to—” He looks a bit scandalised, you didn’t realise he could be so traditional. “Fuck off I was.”

“So what made you wait.” You shouldn’t push, but it’s fun to watch his fluster. “The sex?”

“Could feel you doing everything.” Katsuki rolls his eyes, realising your game. “Like you were under my fuckin’ skin.”

“And that turned you on?” 

He reaches out to cup your breasts. “Of course that shit turned me on. ‘Was like my own hand.” He squeezes. “Cant blame a man.”

You realise only now is he finally touching you on his own. Without your sensations overriding his. You let him have his fascination. You don’t stop his hands from exploring.

Instead you sink into his curiosity, a little interested yourself to see how far it’ll go.

Haiii I hope the concept isn’t confusing, tried to make it make sense 🤾🏽

[kimkaelyn]

Ditto [s. todoroki]

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀, 𝑜𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜 — 𝒟𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜, 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈

→ summary: when you transferred to U.A., you didn't anticipate slipping on a pair of chopsticks in the middle of the crowded cafeteria during your first week. however, what was more surprising was the unexpected fall for the boy who gracefully caught you.

→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers

→ word count: 13.1k

→ warnings & tags: sfw, female pronouns are used, usage of y/n l/n, Class 1-A are now third-year students aka 18+, swearing, the usual U.A. chaos, reader has a Quirk, misunderstandings, some training violence, minor injuries, mentions and discussions of insecurities, aizawa briefly belittles the reader as a form of motivation, beginnings of a panic attack but it's cut short, there is one instance of the reader appearing to be ‘flushed’ in regards to a fever, since this is my first bnha fic some characters might be ooc? | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!

→ author's note: AHHHH HERE IT IS! I've been working on this for almost a year now and I am so excited to finally share it with all of you. Honestly, I didn't think I would ever finish this story, but I kept slowly chipping away at it thanks in part to the encouragement from @andypantsx3, @missrosegold, and @getstarried. Special thanks to @pikatsum for beta-reading this for me! Thank you girls. This is for you🫶🏻

The cafeteria at U.A. High School was a pretty chaotic environment, you quickly learned within your first week after transferring from another Hero Course in the countryside. There were multiple things that could and would happen after the famous students had gotten some much-needed nutrients in their systems.

It was only three days into the school year and nothing had happened just yet, but in the U.A. world, that something was overdue.

The first chaotic event of the year that everyone had been anxiously—or in some cases, excitingly—waiting for happened on Thursday.

The day started off average; you got to school with three minutes to spare, which was a new record, but you had forgotten your pencil pouch in your dorm room, so you had to borrow some pencils from a girl who sat in front of you; Mina Ashido.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the pastel pink utensil from her. There was even a cute little fluffy puffball at the end in exchange for an eraser. Good thing you had an eraser in your bag.

“No problem! I gotcha!” She physically lit up and gave you a bright smile before turning back to focus on the blackboard.

You somehow managed to get through your morning classes running on the four hours of sleep you got the night before. You were cutting it quite close to passing out at your desk during calculus class, but you were saved by the lunch bell.

As soon as you stepped foot into the hallway, you were wrapped up in the faint, delicious scent of your favorite food coming from the cafeteria. Your mouth instantly watered, and you made a mad dash for the source of the delicious scent.

“Hey!” a sharp voice made you freeze in your steps. You glanced over your shoulder to find Tenya Iida, Class 3-A’s representative, glaring at you. The light reflecting off his glasses made him appear more threatening than he really was, but regardless, you still found yourself shying away from his harsh glare and rapid-moving hands. As they passed by, some students gave you apologetic smiles while others were not shy about openly staring at the scene before them, wondering what you possibly could have done to induce the wrath of the student representative. “There is to be no running in the halls!” You cowered some more at his brisk and overly formal tone.

Geez, what a stuck-up, you thought to yourself.

“My apologies, Iida.” You respond with a bow. He accepted your apology with a curt nod before he continued on his way to the cafeteria.

You waited for him to pass before rising from your bow. “Wow, he makes it feel like I broke the law or something.” You mused aloud.

“Don’t take it personally,” a comforting voice said from behind you. You turned to find Momo Yaoyorozu, Ochako Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui standing before you. Ochako gave you a slight wave in greeting. “Iida can be quite demanding,” Yaoyorozu reassured you.

“Thank you.”

Tsuyu regarded you with gentle onyx eyes. “It’s L/N, right?”

You smiled, happy that she remembered your name from roll call. “Y-yeah! I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I, um, already know who you guys are.” You suddenly felt shy, and you bashfully rubbed the back of your neck out of nervous habit.

Before your transfer was finalized, you did extensive research into your future school’s history and future classmates. Thankfully—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—a lot of information is public knowledge; the various attacks on the school in the year leading up to and the conclusion of the War between the Paranormal Liberation Front and the Heroes, not to mention the various televised sports festivals, and the fact that the members of Class 1-A are practically household names even before their graduation.

The girls invited you to sit with them in the cafeteria. You had been keeping to yourself the first few days of school, choosing to observe from afar the already established social circles and friend groups. You had waited for an invitation to join one of said groups, and here was your opportunity.

The four of you made small talk as you made your way through the lunch line and to the table. Right away, Asui told you to call her by her given name. You told them about your life growing up in the countryside—with you and Uraraka bonding over your shared reason for becoming Pro Heroes—about the friends you had, embarrassingly funny stories from your junior high days, and eventually what led you to transfer to U.A.

“Well, this is the best Hero Course in the country!” you all laughed. “But to be frank, the only teacher at my old academy who could handle my Quirk retired, and none of the other academies within the prefecture had the resources to help me advance. Plus, my mentor is an U.A. alumnus, so naturally, the only other choice was U.A.”

Yaoyorozu hummed. “It is a shame about your mentor retiring, but that is what led you to transfer to U.A., and for that, I am grateful.” The class vice representative regarded you kindly. “I am a firm believer of things happening for a reason, and your transfer doesn’t change that.”

Uraraka nodded her agreement. “Momo’s right. U.A. is a place where anybody can make a difference, and I think you will find success here.”

You were rendered speechless. The tips of your ears turned red as your classmates regarded you with so much hope and sincerity in their eyes. “Uh . . . I,” you bashfully scratched the back of your head. Not knowing how to respond, you instead reached for the small bottle of milk on your lunch tray and brought it to your lips.

However, before you could take a sip, a BOOM erupted from the front of the cafeteria, accompanied by a gruff voice yelling, “Don’t walk in front of me, Icy-Hot!” You reflexively jolted at the loud noises and lost your grip on the glass, spilling the half-full bottle all over the front of your uniform.

“Shit,” you exclaimed as you instinctually rose from your seat, only to quickly sit down again when the liquid started to fall to the floor. The girls gasped and were quick to hand you all the napkins in the vicinity.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Asui asked as she watched you pat down your sodden skirt.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You waved off her concern as you continued to wipe away the remaining liquid. The napkins managed to soak up most of it, but your skirt was still damp. If you didn’t change skirts, you were going to smell of milk for the rest of the day, and you didn’t want to start off the school year with a reputation for smelling vile. “I’m going to go back to the dorm really quickly and change into a clean uniform. Please let Mr. Snipe know that I will be late for class.”

“Do you want us to accompany you?” Yaoyorozu asked. She began to rise from her seat, but you stopped her.

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring grin instead of a grimace. “Thank you for offering, Yaoyorozu, but I’ll be fine.” Before your classmates could respond, you stood from the table and made your way to the exit.

Great, this is just great, you thought as you walked, not really paying attention to where you were going. As soon as I make some friends, I make a fool of myself.

Unbeknownst to you, there was an obstacle in the aisle directly ahead. You were too distracted by your growing inner turmoil to notice the pair of metal chopsticks lying on the ground before you until your foot made contact and slipped out from under you.

It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even react.

Time froze as you became weightless, and you felt your body become briefly suspended in the air. Before you could react and rotate your body to prevent yourself from violently banging your head on the tiled floor, gravity took hold and yanked you back down toward the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness your classmates’ reactions to your misfortune.

Great, now I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of the entire school. Fuck you, chopsticks.

You prepared yourself for the pain of hitting the hard floor but were shocked when you were suddenly wrapped in a chilled warmth. You did slam into a hard surface, but this didn’t feel like the cold tile you expected.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked from above. You opened your eyes, only to find yourself captivated by a beautiful graphite and turquoise gaze. Your mouth opened to respond to the inquiry, but you couldn’t speak. This strange yet calming gaze hypnotized you, causing the rest of the world to fade into a buzzing silence. You watched as the perfect eyebrows of the owner of those magical eyes furrowed downward at your prolonged silence, the action momentarily drawing your attention.

With your attention span no longer zeroed in on the heterochromatic gaze, the world around you suddenly slammed back into your senses at full force. The volume of your fellow classmates’ conversations was deafening at first, but your ears grew accustomed once again to zone them out and focus on the person before you.

It took about thirty seconds for the entirety of your current predicament to register within your brain.

You were hanging about ten centimeters off the ground. The only thing keeping you upright and injury-free was Shouto Todoroki’s firm grip on your wrist.

“Um, hello?” the dual-haired teenager once again drew your attention to him. His grip slightly tightened before he tugged you up onto your feet.

“I think you broke her, Icy-Hot.” A rough voice drawled from your peripheral.

The intrusion of the other voice is what finally brought you out of your stunned silence. “No, I’m okay. Not broken.”

“Did you hit your head?” Todoroki inquired. He steadied you on your feet but didn’t release your wrist from his hold. Katsuki Bakugou was standing off to the side, trying to appear like he wasn’t involved with either one of you.

“I-I don’t think so.” As you reached down to brush yourself off, you caught a whiff of the unflattering scent of old milk emitting from your clothes. You held back your gag and turned to face Todoroki and Bakugou. “I’m sorry to rush, but I really do need to go.” You gave a quick bow. “Thank you for catching me, Todoroki. Bye!”

The two boys watched you sprint away like a bat out of hell. “T’fuck is her problem,” Bakugou muttered. “Fuckin’ extra makin’ me late for lunch.”

Todoroki didn’t respond to his classmate’s remarks. His lips pursed together as he watched you nearly run into a couple of first years before you disappeared around a corner, out of sight.

“Don’ even think ‘bout it, Icy-Hot.” Bakugou drawled from beside him. Todoroki cocked an eyebrow, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise indifferent expression. “Gettin’ involved with ‘hat extra will ruin your precious bloodline.”

You tried to forget about the cafeteria incident, but the embarrassing ordeal refused to secede from the forefront of your mind. As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers a minute, antagonizing and overanalyzing every second of what had happened.

As the night dragged on, your thoughts shifted from the overall event to one single individual: Shouto Todoroki. You knew who he was, of course. You didn’t grow up underneath a rock. Yet, you weren’t prepared for how much more handsome he was in person than on the news or in photos.

You overanalyzed everything he did in the brief two minutes you were blessed to be in his company, every word he said, and every brief flash of emotion that showed in his heterochromatic eyes. Todoroki had tried to approach you after training in Ground Beta once you had returned from the dorms, but you avoided him, not wanting to face him again so soon after the embarrassing first meeting.

By Sunday, you had begun to forget about your embarrassing cafeteria incident. Your newfound friends didn’t bring up the spilled milk, and thankfully, they didn’t see you slip on the chopsticks and fall into Shouto Todoroki’s muscular arms. You breathed a sigh of relief when you found out that last part. You didn’t want them to think you were a total klutz.

Todoroki may think otherwise.

As you were rounding the corner to walk back up the stairs to head back to your dorm room, Todoroki happened to be walking down. You both turned at the same time and walked straight into each other.

He wasn’t fazed by the sudden collision; however, you were taken completely off guard. No matter how strong you may be, suddenly walking into about a hundred kilos of pure muscle would make anyone stumble. While he remained steadily standing, you, on the other hand, fell back onto your ass.

It took about three seconds for the two of you to comprehend what the hell had just happened. You groaned out when pain flashed across your backside.

“My apologies, I did not see you.” Todoroki said as he offered you a hand. You begrudgingly accepted his assistance, face heating as your super handsome classmate helped you to your feet for the second time in a week.

“Thank you,” you bowed your head to him. You brushed away some dust from your sweatpants, finding yourself too shy to look back up.

You felt a firm, yet gentle hand land on your shoulder. You jerked your head upwards to meet Todoroki’s captivating gaze. “Are you injured?” His heterochromatic eyes searched you for any injury, and they glimmered with relief when he found none.

“No, I’m okay,” you reassured the male. “I may be a little bruised in the morning, but I will be fine.” Not to mention my bruised ego.

Todoroki hummed in acknowledgment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. His eyes were hyper-fixated on you, leaving you to feel bare under his intense gaze.

You shifted your weight back and forth as the silence between you dragged on for a couple more seconds. “Um, I—” You cleared your throat. “I should be on my way now. Got things to study, you know.” You told him with an awkward laugh.

You moved to step around him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to move. Your movements are what must have shaken him out of his stupor, with him bashfully stepping to the side to allow you access to the stairway.

“Right.” He said as you walked by. “Take care, Y/N.” You startled at his sudden usage of your given name, but nevertheless, you felt oddly relieved. You smiled shyly and bid him goodbye. Nothing else was said between the two of you, but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the stairs.

I hope he likes cinnamon; you thought as you peered into the oven.

To be fair, you should have considered that before laboring for over two hours making kinako cinnamon cookies from scratch—which absolutely failed. Therefore, as a last resort, you were forced to run to the store and buy a box mix.

The he in question?

Shouto Todoroki.

It had been several days since your embarrassing first interaction with the dual-haired male and forty-five hours since your second, literal, run-in—not that you were keeping track, of course.

You wanted to do something nice for him as a way to apologize for your newfound clumsiness and thank him for his assistance in both instances. Your calligraphy skills were not . . . up to par, so to say, by any means, so a handmade thank-you card was off the table, and you highly doubt Todoroki was a flower guy. Not to mention his affluent background, so buying him a gift or offering to take him out to dinner was null—and way too straightforward for two people who were barely even acquaintances.

Therefore, you were left with only one option: homemade cookies.

Besides, all the old aunties back home always said the quickest way to win anyone over was through food.

“Ooooh, something smells amazing!” someone exclaimed from the stairway. Smiling slyly to yourself, you turned away from the oven to the new arrival.

You hadn’t interacted much with Rikido Sato save for the casual good morning greetings and thanking him for the delicious red velvet cupcake he baked for you as a welcoming gift to U.A.

“Thanks,” you said, grinning at the male.

The combined low mutterings of more approaching classmates brought your and Sato’s attention to the doorway where Mina Ashido, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero were entering the dorm.

“Woah something smells fantastic!” Kaminari said, gazing into the kitchen in hopes of spotting the source of the delicious scent.

“Yeah, it does!” Kirishima agreed.

“Oh my gosh, what is it?” Ashido asked as she walked over. Her eyes lit up when she spotted you. “L/N! Did you make something?”

“I did.” You confirmed with a slight nod. “I’m making kinako cinnamon cookies.”

“Oooooh, yummy!” the pinkette exclaimed as she bounced over to peer into the oven. Your other classmates quickly joined her, all of them staring into the soft, golden light of the oven with stars in their eyes.

“They look so good!” Kaminari was practically drooling at the tawny treats. At that moment, the timer went off with a soft ting! You politely shooed your classmates back as you pulled a hand towel over your hands.

“Step back, everyone,” you warned as you opened the oven door. “They’re going to be hot.” You carefully reached in and grabbed the cooking tray, cautiously sliding it off the rack and fully into your cloth-covered hands. Despite taking precautions, you hissed as the hot aluminum seeped through the towel and made contact with your flesh. As quickly as you could without dropping the pan of cookies, you turned and set it down on the kitchen island.

“These look delicious!”

“Woah, man, they look amazing!”

“I bet they taste as scrumptious as they lo—”

You zoned out the boys’ compliments as you moved to the sink and turned on the tap.

“L/N, are you okay?” Ashido asked as she followed you. Her question caught the other's attention, and they, too, turned to watch you quizzingly.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Your response ended with a wince as your skin made contact with the cool water.

“Here, let me see,” Ashido gestured to your hand. With your permission, she took your wrist with gentle fingers and held it up for you both to inspect. Your skin was reddened slightly, but it wasn’t anything serious. You let out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, thankfully, but we should still put some burn cream on it just in case,” Ashido advised as she turned off the tap.

You nodded your head again and followed the pink-haired girl as she went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Before you walked too far from the kitchen, you shouted over your shoulder to your classmates, “Please don’t eat the cookies, boys! They are still hot and are for someone special!”

There was a noticeable delay in response to your warning. After a pregnant pause, there was a muffled, “okamph!” in response. You were about to turn around and make sure that they weren’t eating your treats, but Ashido calling your name changed your plans.

“Let’s fix you up, yeah?” She said as you both entered the girls' bathroom. Ashido gestured for you to sit on the counter while she dug through the first-aid kit for burn cream.

“Thank you, Ashido,” you said a few moments later as she lightly applied the cream to the worst of the reddening. Your skin wasn’t blistering, which was a good sign, but it was beginning to ache.

“No problem,” she replied. She began to gently rub the cream into your skin, mindful of the sore spots. She beamed at you as she said, “And you can just call me Mina. We are friends!”

You smiled at her. “Okay, Mina.” The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes as Mina continued to dress your burns.

“So,” she started, breaking the silence. “Who did you make the cookies for?”

You sharply inhaled. “W-what? What do you mean?” You tried to play it off by playing dumb, but Mina gave you an are you kidding me look.

“Don’t play that game with me, girl.” She scolded you. “So, tell me, who is this ‘special someone’?”

You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “One of our classmates. . .” You trailed off, turning away from the pinkette, and absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

Mina’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh my God, seriously?!?” She squealed. You turned to face her again. “Girl, you absolutely gotta tell me! Who is it?!” She went to grab ahold of your hands but stopped herself when she remembered your injury. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said. “But, um, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but you couldn’t find them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You said, barely above a whisper, turning away from your classmate once more in embarrassment.

Mina leaned back, taken by surprise by your change of tone. She studied you for a few seconds, her expression falling when she saw the look on your face; the clenching of your jaw.

“It’s okay, girl,” she reassured you. She set the roll of bandages down on the counter as she finished wrapping your hand. “You don’t have to tell me who your crush is if you don’t want to.”

You whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “C-crush?!” you stammered out. “W-what?! I don’t have a crush! I never said I did.” you explained.

“Yeah, sure,” Mina smirked at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t of baked cookies for them if you didn’t like them.”

“Um, because I’m nice?” you asked with a lilt in your voice. Mina does have a point, though, you thought.

Mina laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”

A couple of minutes later, you and the pinkette exited the bathroom, laughing over something Mina had said. Your hand had been expertly wrapped and treated with some burn cream. Your injury didn’t even hurt anymore, but you were still going to check in tomorrow with Recovery Girl as a precaution.

As you rounded the corner to go back into the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes fell to the now-empty pan where twenty cookies sat not even ten minutes ago. Mina stopped next to you, and you could see her giving you a questionable look, but you didn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge her. You just stared blankly at the pan, trying to process what you were seeing.

What the hell? you thought.

“Ah, man,” a voice drawled out. You slowly turned towards the source; Denki Kaminari. He was lounging against the counter as he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. “Those cinnamon kinako cookies were delicious!” Your brain blanked out when you heard that, the organ pathetically trying to comprehend and respond to the current situation.

“You’re telling me!” Kirishima piped up from beside the blond. Sero and Sato voiced their agreement from where they were seated on the couches. “They really hit the spot after the day I had.” The redhead noticed you and Mina. “Hey, guys, welcome back!” he greeted with a wave, a broad smile overtaking his features. “How’s your hand?”

You did not formulate an answer right away, your brain still processing the crumbled remains of your cookies. Your delay didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but before they could question it, Mina came to your rescue.

“It’s okay! Y/N is alright, nothing major.” She informed them. Kirishima’s gaze left you to focus on the pinkette by your side, but Kaminari’s remained transfixed on your blank expression.

“Oh, well, that’s great to hear! I was worried—”

“But you should be ashamed!” Mina cut the redhead off, tone sharp as a blade. “All of you.”

“What—?”

“Mina, why—?”

Kirishima and Kaminari spoke at once, their voices clashing, but the pinkette interrupted them once more.

“Y/N didn’t make those cookies for you.” She said. “She made them for someone special, yet you guys ate them even after she told you not to.” She just about bit the last part out. The boys gaped at Mina, her scolding catching them by surprise.

“Is that true?” Sato asked, rising from the couch to approach you. Everyone fixated their attention on you, waiting for a response.

You hesitated at the sudden limelight, and also in shyness. When you originally set out to bake the kinako cookies for Todoroki, you didn’t expect them to 1.) burn your hand and 2.) for them to be eaten by others. Even though you were upset, you didn’t want the others to be ashamed or scolded. But they did eat them after I told them not to, you thought, pondering your next move.

After a few moments, you squared your shoulders and steadily said, “Yes. I . . . made them for somebody.” At your words, the room’s atmosphere soured. The boys’ shoulders slumped as they realized their mistake.

“Shoot, L/N, I’m sorry,” Kaminari said, stepping forward to gently grab your uninjured hand and bow.

“Yeah,” Kirishima added, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly. “That wasn’t really manly of us.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Sero intoned, looking sheepish.

Sato came to stand in front of you next to Kaminari, who still had a gentle hold of your hand. “I’ll be more than happy to remake the cookies for you.” He said. “If you want that, of course.”

You smiled, though it was closed-lipped. “Thank you, Sato, but not today.” He bowed his head.

Suddenly, the front doors slammed open, startling the six of you. You all watched, shell-shacked—you did, at least—as a fuming Bakugou stepped inside, loudly exclaiming, “I had ‘hat dumbass villain handled! Damn Sidekick extra jus’ had to step ‘n and—” He noticed your little group gaping at him. “The hell ‘re ya fools lookin’ at?” As the words left his mouth, the other two members of the infamous U.A. trio entered as well.

“Kacchan,” Izuku Midoriya said, trying to placate the explosive male. “He was just trying to . . .” The rest of his sentence fizzled into the background as the entirety of your attention span landed on Shouto Todoroki.

It had already been well-established that the youngest Todoroki son was even more handsome in person, but seeing him in his Hero costume did things to you. Your mouth almost dropped open to gawk at his god-like appearance, but you clenched your jaw tightly shut to avoid that catastrophe. Despite that, you were pretty positive your eyes were as wide as saucers, greedily taking every inch of him in as if it were the last time you would see him.

I should sue him for the cost of my medical bills when I develop heart palpitations, you thought.

“Shut the hell up, ya stupid nerd.” Bakugou snapped at a sputtering Midoriya, drawing your attention once more. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Is he always this angry?” you asked under your breath; half-serious, half-rhetorical.

“Oh, yeah,” Mina confirmed, voice just as low.

Sero snickered from his post next to Sato. “You get used to it after a while,” he reassured you.

One of Kirishima’s blinding smiles makes its appearance once again. “Katsuki’s always been passionate about, well, everything.” He told you, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’s who he is. We love him regardless.”

Sato chimed in with, “Platonically.” The boys snickered and Mina rolled her eyes, yet there was a small smile playing on her lips.

“Even though his sour attitude can be harsh and lowkey over the top,” Kaminari began, eyes shining with mischief. “It sure makes him fun to mess with!” Your companions groaned in exasperation and started to voice their reservations.

“No, Denki. Leave him be—” Mina urged him.

“Awe, come on, man. Don’t—”

“Heyy~ Katsuki,” Kaminari crooned, rocking back on his heels as the pale blond’s attention zeroed in on him. Kirishima and Sato facepalmed. “Why have trouble catching a ‘dumbass villain’?” he teased. “Bad day? Your head not in the game?” The hair on your arms rose to attention as an electric charge swept the room, putting everyone on edge. Kaminari’s baiting also drew the attention of the explosive male’s companions. Your eyes briefly met captivating graphite and turquoise, eliciting a sharp gasp to leave your lungs.

“You’re gonna regret the day you were born, dumbass!” Bakugou bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the electric blond, snapping your attention from the hypnotizing gaze. You fully expected him to charge the male, already taking a cautionary step back, but instead of explosions ripping apart the building, Bakugou grunted and moved towards the showers.

Mina turned to the blond and shouted, “Now why did you do that, Denki? You know better than to rile Katsuki up like that!”

Kirishima dragged a large hand down his face before running it through his unruly red locks. “I’ll go check on him,” he announced before jogging after the sandy-blond. You were at a loss for words as you continued to watch your classmates scold a shit-grinning Kaminari, not even the tiniest bit remorseful for his teasing of Bakugou.

“Please don’t take Kacchan’s rashness to heart.” A new voice piped up. You turned to meet the electric green gaze of none other than Izuku Midoriya, the new generation’s proclaimed Symbol of Peace. “I’m s-sorry, I don’t think we have properly met. I’ve been in and out of campus lately—with missions and such.” He practically skipped over to stand in front of you. He smiled brightly as he gently took your hands in his large, calloused ones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m so happy you are here at U.A.!” he excitedly exclaimed, lightly squeezing your entwined hands. You couldn’t hide your wince and small gasp of pain as Midoriya unknowingly squeezed your burns. The green-haired male let go of your hands so fast as if he was the one burned instead of you, eyes growing wide. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” he asked, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your hand. Midoriya’s frenzy caught the other's attention, and all eyes were on you yet again.

The tips of your ears grew hot at the unwavering attention from the Heroes-in-training—especially from a certain icy-hot male who made your heart falter in its beating. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered as you met each of your classmate's gazes, trying to reassure them of your stability.

“What happened?” Todoroki inquired, eyes hawkishly zeroed in on your face.

“U-um, well . . .” you trailed off, words fading from your brain as you slightly cowered under his unwavering attention. “I—”

“She burned herself while baking kinako cookies,” Sero spoke for you, having caught onto your growing anxiousness. You didn’t miss Todoroki’s eyes narrowing at the black-haired male’s words. Sato and Kaminari made noises of agreement, the blond absentmindedly rubbing his stomach in content.

Midoriya’s eyes shined. “Really? You did?!” He looked behind you to the kitchen, eyes searching for the aforementioned treats. “Where are they?” he asked when he didn’t spot any, only a plate littered with crumbs. He turned his attention back to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but a wave of shame overcame you as your eyes once again met those of the one you had made the cookies for.

Mina noticed your hesitation, giving you a knowing look as she answered for you. “The three idiots to your left ate them all,” she said with a little bite to her words, glaring daggers at the culprits. “After they were specifically told not to.” She reaffirmed. The boys shuddered at the reminder of their disobedience. The pinkette turned her attention back to the green-haired and dual-haired males. “I patched her up, though. The burns are minor.”

Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “You should still see Recovery Girl,” he instructed, unashamedly expressing his concern for someone he had just properly met. “At least let her take a look at it.”

“I’m going to stop by to see her in the morning,” you reassured him, words coming back now that your mind was a little clear. His shoulders slumped in relief.

“You should rest, Y/N.” Todoroki’s searing gaze trailed over your form, calculating eyes searching for any additional outward signs of injury or discomfort. “After suffering an injury, no matter how insignificant, rest is important.” He softly chided.

“R-right.” You stammered out, at a loss for how else to respond to your handsome classmate's concern other than compliance. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at that moment. Your feet stumbled as you became lightheaded for a split second. You noticed the dual-haired male take a step towards you, catching onto your sudden exhaustion, but you quickly rightened yourself. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You’re not exactly sure why you thanked him, or what for. His concern, perhaps? He subtly nodded as you turned from the small group, breathlessly mumbling some sort of farewell and something about retiring to your room for the rest of the day.

The others muttered their goodbyes as you made your way to the stairwell.

As you walked up the stairs, head hung low, your throat began to burn and your vision began to blur with tears. The first one fell when you reached your floor, quickly followed by a couple more. You wiped them away, sniffing, as you made your way to your door. You didn’t react to the sudden presence next to you and the weight draped around your shoulders.

Mina didn’t say anything, only traced comforting circles into your back as tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

The next day, you and your classmates were gathered outside Gym Gamma for an impromptu training session. You were surprised that Class 3-A still regularly trained together, but in your defense, that assumption came from someone who didn’t have many options when it came to sparing partners up until your transfer—a major shortcoming in retrospect.

“Today we are working on ‘last stand’ combat.” Mr. Aizawa drawled in his natural I Don’t Give A Fuck tone. “Close-quarter combat in which a violent assailant has obtained the upper hand and corners you in an attempt to defeat you.” He proceeded to explain the instructions of the training exercise and pair the students into groups of four who would take turns being the Heroes and the assailants.

“Midoriya will be with Jirou.” Mr. Aizawa intoned, briefly glancing at the two students to confirm they heard. “Todoroki will be with L/N.” Your muscles stiffened when you heard that. Your heart began to race as you watched the red-and-white-haired male make his way over to you.

“H-hi,” you greeted him, giving a soft smile.

“Hello,” he said, politely inclining his head. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here.” You said before facing forward once more as the first group began their round. You and Todoroki observed the match in silence, with you paying extra attention to your classmates’ movements and taking mental notes of how they incorporated their Quirks into hand-to-hand combat.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Expecting the new additions to be Ochako and Asui, you turned to greet them with a warm smile but paused when instead of your friends, Midoriya and Kyoka Jirou were standing next to you, both with warm expressions on their faces.

“Hi!” Midoriya greeted with a wide smile and a small wave. “I’m excited for this training exercise! It’s going to be so cool to see everyone’s improvement with hand-to-hand combat over the break! And any new moves! Or Quirk Awakenings! Or—” You had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying as it turned into a stuttering rant as he went on about each individual’s Quirk.

The rumors were true regarding his ramblings, you mused to yourself, wondering how long he could go on for before a small hand on his shoulder made him take pause.

“Midoriya,” Jirou intoned. “Calm down.” His cheeks flushed a bright red. He began laughing nervously while absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.

“S-sorry,” he said, shyfully.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I agree with your stance, though. Observing others' skills is an effective way to improve your own. Get an idea or two.” You turned your attention back to the ongoing training, taking mental notes of your classmates’ fighting stances and their defensive moves, trying to get a better understanding of the why behind them. You pulled a small item from your jacket pocket, absentmindedly rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger. The movement caught Midoriya’s attention.

“What is that?” he asked, green eyes alight with curiosity.

“What? This?” You held up your good luck charm; a small, pink parrot keychain from a popular cartoon series you had won years ago at one of your hometown’s summer festivals. It was lucky because at the moment, while little you were trying to win, your Quirk had manifested. “It’s my good luck charm,” you explained the pink parrot’s value to you.

“Oh, cool!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You know, I used to have a good luck charm—it was my super rare exclusive All Might trading card! First edition!” His eyes shined as he reminisced. “I would bring it with me everywhere! Even Kacchan—”

“Deku,” drawled a low voice from the other side of your gathered class. The temperature fell as Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed onto Midoriya. “Don’t say another word.”

“He’s such a fanboy.” Jirou chuckled, fondness seeping into her voice. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, not bothering even to try to deny the label. You spent the time until your group’s turn getting to know the two, quickly finding out that you and Jirou share the same taste in music; vowing to swap playlists after class. You were so caught up in your conversation that you almost forgot about Todoroki's presence, if not for the awareness of a body next to you. His chilled warmth seeped into your muscles, causing you to relax one moment, and tense up another.

“Are you all right?” he softly inquired, spying your tensed posture.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You replied, softly smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Just a lil’ nervous, is all.”

Todoroki frowned slightly, not understanding how you could be experiencing anxiousness. “Wh—?”

“Oh yeah!” Midoriya suddenly interjected. “This is going to be your first time demonstrating your Quirk, huh?” he asked you. “Or at least this is gonna be the first time I will see it. What is it again? Object—no—um, yeah, anyway I bet it is awesome!” His eyes still shined with his enthusiasm and curiosity. “Sometime you gotta let me ask you about it! I have so many! Does it work like Ochako’s Zero Gravity? Or Yaoyorozu’s Creation?”

You couldn’t help but give a small laugh at his eagerness. You had never met someone as enthusiastic about Quirks as Izuku Midoriya. It was kind of refreshing to interact with someone as passionate as he was.

“Kind of,” you began, silently pondering over what you know of the brunette’s Quirk and comparing it to your own. “Ochako and I have the same limitations when it comes to the weight of an object, but besides that, our Quirks are different.” Your Quirk was object manipulation; you could telepathically manipulate objects within a certain range. To you, your Quirk wasn’t all that—wasn’t anything unique by any means—but to others, you were seen as a powerful goddess. “To be honest, I’m lacking in hand-to-hand combat skills.” You sheepishly smiled.

“Really?” Midoriya asked, blinking in shock. “I thought your previous school would have prepared you for all types of situations.” Jirou nodded her agreement with the green-haired male. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shouto continue to observe you with a calculating expression on his face.

“Unfortunately, no.” You shrugged. “Their curriculum was more focused on improving the individual’s Quirk than learning how to fight without it.”

“Oh, wow,” Jirou said. “That could put you at a great disadvantage down the line.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why—” You were cut off by Mr. Aizawa calling for your group to begin your training round. “Welp, this is it, I guess.” You chuckled nervously.

Midoriya gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great!” he said, giving you a thumbs-up accompanied by a warm smile.

“Do your best,” Jirou added before moving towards the training pitch.

You started to follow, but a cool hand on your shoulder made you pause, shivering softly. You turned to find Todoroki giving you an expectant look. “You’ll do fine,” he said, confidently. He looked as if he put his entire faith in you. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

You felt a surge of confidence fill you at his words. You gave him a determined look. “Right,” you said. “We got this.”

You swear up and down his eyes twinkled when he looked at you, but it could have been a trick of the light. “You got this.” He replied, softly. The two of you walked into the pitch together, side by side.

The training went . . . not terrible, but it could have been better on your end.

Todoroki, Midoriya, and Jirou were amazing. Even without using their Quirks, they each were a force to be reckoned with. You were captivated by how swiftly they moved—as if they were ballerinas performing Danse des Petits Cygnes.

You weren’t on the same level as them and the rest of Class 3-A. You knew that, and you acknowledged it, but to see and be confronted by it so bluntly in person made you feel a whole other level of embarrassment and shame. You weren’t weak by any means, you could hold your own in a fight for some time, but not like your classmates could—and had.

Perhaps that is what separates you from your classmates. They have battle experience. Hell, they fought in a fucking war for crying out loud while you were on the other side of the country, guarding civilian shelters. You were fortunate not to see much bloodshed, but maybe that brought you to a disadvantage against these future Heroes surrounding you.

The horn had sounded as Jirou pinned you in the dirt for the sixth time, signaling the end of the round. You heard the sounds of Midoriya and Todoroki’s scuffling come to a halt from somewhere off to your left as Jirou lifted herself off of you. She offered you a hand as you began to rise from the ground. You accepted her extended hand with a grimace as the muscles in your back burned.

“Nice work.” Mr. Aizawa said as the four of you approached. “You performed adequately,” he addressed Jirou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. He turned to you. “You, not so much.”

You flinched as the words landed home. Damn, you thought, but he’s not wrong. You had naively allowed yourself to believe that Eraserhead wouldn’t call out your inferiority, at least in front of others. Then again, he was Eraserhead—infamous for his bluntness and apathy.

“Your skills are greatly lacking in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued. “I haven’t seen somebody so physically inadequate since your classmates were first years. Coming from another Hero Course, especially one with its reputation, it’s to be expected that you’re not up to par with your new classmates, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” As he spoke, he never broke eye contact with you, scrutinizing you. Even with one eye, his unrelenting gaze made you feel as if he could see every minuscule detail about you. “Based on the performance I saw today, it was a mistake to put you in this class.”

You heard a gasp from one of your classmates; its owner unknown. You gulped down your shame and remained silent. You had a feeling Aizawa wasn’t finished with you.

“From here on out, I expect you to train harder and push yourself further than anyone else. Extra training, extra classes—anything that will make you catch up.” His eye narrowed. “If I do not see substantial improvement in one month, you will be expelled. No exceptions.”

Your eyes widened, but your shock did not stop you from replying. “Yes, sir.” You said, keeping your tone neutral as you mulled over his words. Although extreme, I understand the reason for Mr. Aizawa’s methods, you thought. He’s right though. I’m far from even scrapping the level these guys are on. I need to be more disciplined and work even harder if I want to stand on equal ground with my classmates. Resolve made, you promised, “I will go Plus Ultra!”

“Yaass, Y/N!” Mina cheered. “Woohoo!”

Aizawa didn’t say anything else to you, promptly dismissing the class. Midoriya praised your performance and commented on his wish to sit down and talk in-depth with you regarding your Quirk. You promptly accepted his request, telling him you would let him know when you were free. He smiled before walking off to join Iida and Ochako.

“If it means anything,” a voice suddenly intoned from behind you. You spun around, having not sensed the person's approach. You weren’t all that surprised to find Todoroki there, softly regarding you. “I think you did well.”

You scoffed but smiled softly. “Thank you, but you don’t have to patronize me. I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up.”

“You will,” he declared, before quickly clarifying, “Catch up. Especially with my help.”

You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”

“Should I repeat myself?” he inquired, his heterochromatic eyes swimming in mirth. “I will assist you in your training and classes.”

You didn’t respond right away, regarding him with suspicion. You waited for him to name a condition for his help, but when he offered none, you relaxed. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You inclined your head. “I greatly appreciate it.”

“Shouto,” he corrected.

You blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”

“Shouto,” he reiterated. “You may call me Shouto. We are friends, are we not?”

You gaped at him for a moment, processing his words. “Ye-yeah!” you said a little too loudly. “We are friends, Shouto.”

The small smile that graced his lips lit up your entire world and caused your heart to speed up, pounding almost painfully against your ribcage. “Meet me here tomorrow after class.” He instructed.

“Tomorrow.” You repeated in confirmation.

His smile grew a little wider. “See you then, Y/N.” He said before turning on his heel and strolling away. You watched him go in a daze, in disbelief of what just occurred.

“Oooooooo, Y/N’s gotta date!”

You shrieked at the sudden voice and spun around for a second time to find Mina standing there, hunched over laughing at your reaction.

“Mina!” you shrieked, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

She continued to laugh. “Sorry,” she said once her laughter died down. “You were so entranced with Todoroki that you didn’t even realize I was here!”

“Oh, yeah right.” You responded, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you began to walk to the dorm. “I wasn’t entranced with him.”

The pinkette gave you a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you ain’t lying to me.”

You scoffed but didn’t attempt to refute her claims. You put your hands in your pockets and looked to the ground, lost in thought. Mina didn’t say anything else, allowing you both to walk in silence.

The next afternoon, you met Shouto at the training grounds outside Gym Gamma for your first tutored training session. He regarded you kindly as you slowly approached, suddenly feeling quite bashful.

“Thank you for offering to do this, Shouto.” You said when you arrived. “It really means a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

“There’s no need for repayment.” He softly responded. “I volunteered to assist you. Therefore, no repayment of any sort is necessary.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience you—”

His soft call of your name made your next words die in your throat. “I assure you, this is fine.” He said. “Your company and attention are substantial enough.” You felt your face warm at his admission. Shouto gestured towards the training pit. “Shall we begin?”

He started by teaching you some stretches that are supposed to help decrease sudden muscle spasms and strengthen them. Afterward, he had you show him the little knowledge you had of hand-to-hand combat to gain an idea of where you stand in regard to U.A. training. Once you had demonstrated the few kicks and different styles of punching you knew, you turned to judge Shouto’s impression.

Your breath caught at what you saw.

His handsome features remained stoically blank for the most part, but the pursing of his lips and slight furrowing of his brows spoke a different tale. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like they didn’t prepare you at all, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure.

“Shouto?” you inquired, voice slightly uneven as your mouth formed the syllables of his name. “Is everything alright?”

His beautiful eyes snapped to yours, and once again you were frozen by the intensity with which he looked at you. His gaze was calculating, and you could just about see the cogs turning in his brain as he silently regarded you. A couple long moments later, his lips parted on an exhale and he finally addressed you.

“We have a lot of work to do.” He declared. “But we already knew that.” You slowly nodded your head, curious as to where he would be going with this conversation. “Thankfully, you’re not completely helpless,” he intoned dryly. “Even though you don’t have many skills regarding physical, non-Quirk combat, I have identified several places where we can start, correct, and then build on.”

You steadied yourself, resolve firmer than ever before. You declared, “I’m ready.”

Shouto gave a quick, but detailed, overview of his plans for your ‘training tutoring’, you referred to your sessions as. He was going to teach you everything he thought you should know—which was everything he knew—in order to successfully become a Hero people could rely on.

The two of you began by improving your physique. You joined him on his early morning run along with Midoriya and Bakugou, who welcomed you with contrasting fervor. When you met for your afternoon training, you would run five kilometers before learning various grades of combat moves, and then concluding your time together by sparring.

It was established early on that neither of you would use your Quirks during your tutoring as the two of you were well-adapted to your respective Quirks—and the strict rules regarding their usage.

For the next several weeks, you worked tirelessly on your training, and your dedication and hard work paid off. At your end-of-the-month assessment, Aizawa was pleased by your rapid and exceptional improvement and announced you could stay at U.A. He also informed you that it was never his intention to expel you in the first place, but nevertheless, he was impressed by your efforts.

You and Shouto continued to grow closer as time went by. You still had your training tutoring sessions in the afternoons, and you became a regular on his early morning runs. You even hung out outside of class and training; preparing pre-workout meals and drinks together, and various study sessions at all hours of the day and night. Once, you even packed him a small canister of his favorite brand of soba noodles for lunch one of the weekends he was interning at his father’s Agency. When he came back to the dorm after his shift, he made a beeline for you and promptly informed you that from then on out, you would be solely responsible for packing his lunches.

“Now why would I do that?” you implored. You crossed your arms, awaiting his response. “Are you gonna pay me?”

Shouto slowly blinked at you in the way a cat would. “Why would I compensate you for an action you chose to do?”

You had no retort for that.

As you spent more time together, you noticed some changes. Shouto would stare at you for seemingly no reason, and whenever you called him out on it, he feigned innocence. He also sought you out more often, insisting on walking to your next class or to and from the dorm by your side. He even began to occupy you on your shopping runs, dutifully holding your bags for you. And whenever you would thank or compliment him, his whole demeanor would light up as if Aphrodite herself had shown favor towards him.

You weren’t any better, though.

If Shouto would do so much as even blink in your general direction, your heart would soar and butterflies would take flight in your stomach. At first, you brushed it off as nerves for being the subject of the Shouto Todoroki’s attention, but you were in denial, not wanting to admit what was actually occurring. Looking back, you realized that deep down, you had known all along what was happening, but at the time, you weren’t ready to admit it—to yourself and him.

Regardless of your rebuttals and lack of admission, you were falling for your dual-haired classmate, hard and fast, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

3 months later . . .

“Y/N! It’s starting! You’re gonna miss it!” Ochako shouted from the couches, the other girls of Class 3-A surrounding her, all dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the class's annual Girl’s Movie Night, which was held every couple of months. Tooru told you earlier that week that they would like to have it more often, like once a month, but given their hectic and ever-changing schedules, the girls had to settle for every few months. They took turns who got to pick out the movie. It was Mina’s turn this time. True to her nature, she selected an early 2000s chick flick set in the States.

“Hold on, wait for me!” you hollered back as you finished pouring the freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl, a few kernels spilling out as you whirled on your heels to sprint into the living area. You nearly tripped over Jirou’s legs as you practically threw yourself towards the last remaining free spot on the couch.

“Ah, sorry!” you exclaimed as you settled yourself into the cushions, checking over Jirou and your popcorn bowl. “Did I miss anything?”

“No, it’s just starting,” Momo said, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the opening credits began to roll.

“Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite movies!” Mina squealed next to you. “Have you ever seen it before?” she asked.

You hummed, acknowledging her question. You thought hard, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen the characters on the screen before. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”

The pinkette gasped aloud and theatrically placed a hand on her chest, sprawling backward. “Y/N! You wound me!”

Across the room, Tooru piped up from her spot next to Asui. “How could you not have?! It’s only one of the greatest movies ever made!”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Ochako interjected. “Gonna have to disagree.” You expected them to start arguing back and forth over what is truly the greatest movie ever made, like your friends back home would have done, but they don’t. Mina stuck her tongue out at Ochako before turning back to the movie.

You all watched the movie in relative silence, save for the light background noise of popcorn moving around in a bowl and slurping from a now-empty straw. It was nice, peaceful; a well-deserved and appreciated respite from the grinding hustle of being Pro-Heroes-in-training.

“Just confess already!” Jirou shouted at the screen as the main character allowed another opportunity for them to confess their feelings for their classmate slip through their fingers. “Gosh!” A corner of your mouth curled at her irritation. A few grumbles of agreement sounded from the others as the movie continued playing.

You had to stifle your laughter as the main characters continued to pine after one another, completely oblivious to the other’s growing feelings. I can’t believe there are actually people in the world who are like them, you silently mused. It’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe they don’t see it.

“Ugh, the anticipation and pining is killing me!” Tooru cried out, her slippers moving frantically in the air as she kicked her legs.

Asui raised a brow. “I thought you’ve seen this movie before?”

“Well, yeah, I have,” the invisible female said. “But the suspense still gets to me!”

“It is quite intense.” Ochako agreed. “I hope they confess soon. It hurts to see them think the other doesn’t return their feelings.”

“I don’t understand how they cannot.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. The girls turned to look at you as you continued, “I mean, they’re so obvious.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda annoying at this point,” Jirou mumbled.

Mina snickered. “Y/N, as if you’re one to talk.”

You gave her a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, come on. You’re so obvious, too, with your crush—”

You cut her off, “I do not have a crush.”

“You have a crush?” Asui asked. You and Mina responded at the same time.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, she does.”

“What is this about?” Momo inquired, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.

“Nothi—” you began but was swiftly interrupted by the pinkette next to you.

“Y/N has a crush on Todoroki!”

The girls gasped and gapped at you, eyes wide.

“I do not!” You said, face burning as you tried to mitigate the situation. “We’re not like that!”

“Oh my.” You thought you heard Momo say under her breath, but you couldn’t really hear since Tooru started shrieking with glee.

“You guys would be the cutest couple!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her spot on the couch and racing over to pull you into a tight embrace.

“I mean, it does make sense given they spend so much time together.” Ochako mused, a finger on her chin as she considered the situation.

Asui jumped on the bandwagon with, “Oh they are definitely into each other.”

“One hundred percent,” Mina agreed.

“Girl, you gotta spill the tea!” Tooru exclaimed as she pulled away. “Tell us everything!” The others voiced their agreement.

“I do admit, I am curious as to how this relationship came to be,” Momo vocalized, setting her tea cup down onto its saucer. “That is if the two of you have gotten that far into your companionship.”

You blinked at the midnight-black-haired woman, shock clouding your brain for a moment as you processed her words. “Um, n-no. We aren’t in any type of r-romantic relationship.” You clarified, but immediately you could tell certain people thought your answer was complete horse poop. “We aren’t!”

“Regardless, you guys are pretty close,” Ochako interjected. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “And all the extra training you do together.”

“The early morning runs,” Asui added.

“Okay, okay,” you threw your hands up in a placating manner. “I understand what you guys are trying to get at, but you’re wrong.”

Mina came to stand beside you, giving you a knowing look. “Girl, Y/N,” she began. “You can try with all your might to deny it, but it’s obvious what is really going on between you and Shouto.” She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And I know you know it, too.”

You stared at the pinkette, pondering her and the other’s words. You wanted to continue denying what they were saying, but you were getting tired of denying your feelings to yourself. You slumped your shoulders, the tension leaving your body as you resolved to come clean with the truth—to yourself and your friends, besides a certain dual-haired male. “Alright, fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, mentally preparing yourself for their reaction to your next statement. “I like him a little.” You confessed, looking at the floor, too afraid to meet any of their gazes.

The room was dead silent for two breaths before Mina erupted in choking laughter. “’A little’? Yeah RIGHT!” She laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her pink cheeks. After she managed to calm down a bit, she turned to face you fully, laying a hand on your knee. “Girl, you’re lying to yourself.” She told you, tone light yet serious. “We have all seen the way you look at Shouto—” the others nod in confirmation. “—and your eyes tell it all.”

You flinched as embarrassment flooded you. “Is it really that obvious?” you asked. You turned to the others to gauge their reactions. “Am I?” They all nodded.

“Definitely.”

“For sure.”

“We could see it from a mile away.”

You gasped. “Oh my,” you covered your face with your hands. “Do you think Shouto knows?”

“I doubt so,” Momo said. “Shouto is quite intelligent and a formidable force to be reckoned with, but as I’m sure you’re aware, his experience and understanding of social concepts and cues are fairly limited.”

“In other words,” Jirou interjected. “He’s none the wiser.”

You released a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker or something.

“Hey, give him some credit, guys,” Ochako remarked. “Todoroki’s more aware than he’s given credit for.”

“Moving on,” Mina said. “Have you thought about confessing your feelings to him?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, shamefully looking away. “No. . .”

“What?!”

“Really?!” Tooru shouted. “But he’s so hot!” The sleeves of her shirt crossed in front of her. “I would do anything to be his girlfriend.”

You laughed. “While you are correct about his handsomeness, I don’t even know where I would begin or how I would confess.”

“Your feelings are valid, Y/N,” Asui assured you. “Confessing one’s feelings for another is a life-changing occurrence.”

“You gotta do it before graduation in a couple months, though,” Ochako added. “If not, then you may never get another chance to do so.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked. “As Pros, wouldn’t we work together often? Why does it need to be before we graduate and turn Pro?”

“Possibly, but with our chosen line of work, there is always a possibility. . .” she trailed off with a grimace.

You understood immediately. “Oh.”

“Although rare in the line of duty, it does happen.” Momo said. “I wouldn’t worry about that though, but I agree with Ochako.”

“Plus,” Mina began, mischief glowing in her eyes. “If the two of you get together before you make your Pro Hero debut to the world, you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with some random civilian he rescues on the street or another Pro.”

You nodded. “You have a point.”

“Either way, I think it will all work out in the end,” Ochako said, her cheeks widening with her smile. “I think perhaps Shouto returns your feelings, and just simply doesn’t know what to do about them or how to address them, therefore you should tell him.” The other girls voiced their agreement.

“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture or anything,” Jirou said.

“Just be honest with him, Y/N,” Asui said.

“Yeah, girl,” Mina added, giving you a warm smile when you met her gaze. “You got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

You squared your shoulders as a burst of confidence filled you thanks to the encouragement you received from your friends. “Okay, I will!” you loudly announced. “I will confess my feelings to him!”

The others cheered as you all held up your lemon water in a faux toast. In your happiness, none of you noticed the shadows shift in the stairwell and the soft noise of retreating footsteps on the wood.

You were screwed.

“How am I gonna tell him!?” you mewled aloud a couple of days later in the cafeteria. You dramatically slumped your forehead on the tabletop, mentally kicking yourself for allowing the girls to convince you that confessing your crush would be an easy endeavor. You felt a reassuring pat on your shoulder. Groaning, you lifted your head from the table to shoot puppy eyes at Ochako. “Ochako, help me!” you cried. “How do I confess?”

The brunette gave you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, Y/N.” She professed, her eyes apologetic. “Proclaiming one's love for another isn’t really my strong suit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Asui mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink, receiving a glare in response.

“Y/N, sweetie,” Mina cooed from your other side. “I think you’re overthinking it a little. It shouldn’t be but so hard. Just be honest with him!”

“But that is hard!” you said, waving your hands in the air. “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘hey, Shouto, I think you’re really hot and amazing. Wanna go out with me?’”

“Sure you can,” Momo intoned, trying to reassure you. “Maybe not in those exact words, but when the time comes, you will know what to say.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. “I hope so.”

As time passed, you found that you did not, in fact, know what to say when the time came to confess your feelings to Shouto Todoroki. Whenever you were near him, you became tongue-tied and could barely speak without becoming a stuttering mess. During each interaction, Shouto would give you a long, confused look, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he watched you struggle for words. He wouldn’t comment on it, bless him, but he must’ve thought you to be a total weirdo.

Yet, he still accompanied you on the walk back to the dorm every day after classes ended, and he insisted on continuing your training sessions every weekend after he finished his shift at Endeavor’s Agency. The two of you grew closer, to your absolute delight, and yet you still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to confess your feelings to him.

Until one day . . .

You were sitting in homeroom during free period, chatting with Midoriya about the latest episode of the rebooted All Might: The Mightiest Man TV series.

“I’m telling you, Midoriya,” you said. “It doesn’t matter how much the animation and special effects have improved, the original will always be better than the reboot.” You crossed your arms and lounged back in your chair, waiting for the forest green-haired male to start sputtering his counterargument. “You can’t change my mind. I will die on this hill.”

“Are you seriously sayin—?”

A call of your name from a familiar tenor drew your attention. You turned towards the source to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. Shouto was making his way to your desk, coming to a stop right in front of you. You had to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he turned his attention to Midoriya next to you. “Pardon me, Midoriya, but I need to speak to Y/N in private.”

You and Midoriya gaped at the dual-haired male for a good twenty seconds before you slowly rose from your seat. “O-okay.” You turned to face your green-haired companion. You hoped your eyes were conveying your inner panic as you said, “Midoriya, I’ll be back.”

All he could do was nod as he watched you follow behind Shouto, wondering why you looked so panicked to go with the male. Maybe you were constipated.

As Shouto led you toward the classroom door, Ochako and Mina shot you curious glances. When you met their gazes, they gave you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, respectfully.

“Good luck, girl!” Mina whisper-shouted.

“You got this, Y/N,” Ochako said. You tried to match her comforting smile with your own, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

You followed behind the dual-haired male, silently wondering what was going on. Once you were outside the classroom, he led you down the hallway to a little corner nook bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.

“Shouto, is everything okay?” you asked, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?” At your inquiry, he finally came to a stop in front of a set of windows and turned to face you.

“Yes, everything is fine.” He reassured you. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

You blinked. “Okay,” you said. “Shoot.”

Shouto likewise paused at your usage of unfamiliar slang but didn’t comment on it. “Um,” he started, but drifted off, not finishing the thought. He opened his mouth only to shut it again after a moment or two without making a sound. You furrowed your brows as you continued to watch him struggle for words.

“Um, Sho?” you prodded. He didn’t respond, however, still thinking over his next words. Shouto never hesitates, you thought with a mixture of wonderment and anxiety. Is something bothering him? you thought with growing concern. You felt your heart come to a skittering stop as another horrifying conclusion came to mind; am I the problem?

“I overheard you and the other girls’ conversation on Movie Night,” he confessed at last, interrupting your spiraling train of thought. He bashfully looked away as if he was ashamed.

“Oh, okay?” you responded, absentmindedly going through the events of the night in question. Your heartbeat began to calm down to a normal rate. “What conversation?” You couldn’t think of anything in particular and were about to ask him to elaborate before the realization hit you like a freight train.

“I like him a little.”

“Okay, I will! I will confess my feelings to him!”

“Yeah, girl, you got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

Oooohhhhh.

Fuck.

Maybe he didn’t hear that particular part of the conversation! You tried to reassure yourself as you waited for Shouto to answer your question. Your heart rate picked back up as panic began to settle in. We were there for several hours. There is so much he could’ve—

“You have an admiration going on.” You hate to admit you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before his formal wording translated into modern speech. You have a crush.

FUCK!

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” you rushed out, trying to save face and whatever friendship you had with Shouto. You felt your cheeks burn. “Please, just forget you ever heard that!”

Shouto snapped his head to you as your words registered in his brain. “Why would I do that?” he asked after a moment. “We live in the same building with shared living space, barely anything is not overheard by another.”

Oh God, how much did he overhear?

“Besides,” he continued. “At our age, it is completely natural for one to harbor feelings for another.”

You blinked at him as his words registered, your cheeks now tingling due to the burn. Gosh, he sounds like a grandpa giving the birds and the bees talk.

“It—it’s j-just,” you stammered. “I-I-I—” You let out a harsh breath in frustration when your words continued to fail you. Shouto raised a brow before his eyes narrowed. Your heart sank when you saw that.

Oh great, he’s annoyed!

“Are you all right?” he asked before moving so he was right in front of you. You squeaked at the sudden warmth of his body heat as he placed a hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? You feel warm, and your face looks to be flushed with some perspiration gathering on your forehead.” His eyes frantically looked you up and down as he examined you for any further signs of sickness. “I should get you to Recovery Girl.”

“N-no!” you exclaimed when he went to sweep you off your feet. “Sh-Shouto, I—I’m fine, really. I’m n-not s-sick.”

“Oh?” Shouto blinked in confusion and, adorably, subtly tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you so febrile? And you are stuttering?”

“It’s not because I am sick. I’m just em-embarrassed.” You whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but look away from Shouto in shame.

“Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed, Y/N?” You shut your mouth, refusing to speak. Shouto sensed your hesitation. The light slowly left his heterochromatic eyes and he bashfully looked away from you. “Is . . . is it because you don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked. “For fear that your crush will see us together and not return your affection?”

You let out a gasp in surprise. “What? No!” You are quick to reassure him—your actual crush—of your intentions. “That’s not it at all!”

Shouto met your gaze again. His eyes lit up with what looked like . . . anticipation? Hope? You weren’t sure, but your heart began to race in trepidation. “Then what is it?”

“I like you,” you blurted out. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide from your drowning embarrassment. “Like, not even a little bit, but, like, really, really like you.” You whispered from behind your hands.

There was no immediate response from the dual-haired male. You didn’t dare to remove your hands from your face to check if he was still standing in front of you.

He probably didn’t hear me. You internally slapped yourself upside the head.

Before you could react, Shouto was carefully removing your hands from your face. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you would crack and break under his fingertips. “Why are you hiding from me?” he whispered. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him.

“I—I.” Despite your efforts, words weren’t able to come out of your mouth.

“You should never feel like you need to hide,” he continued. He let out an airy tsk before he reached his hand up and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up even more at the action. “Especially from me.”

What.

“W-what?” you voiced aloud. You blinked a couple times, trying to bring your brain back from the brink of short-circuiting.

Shouto chuckled lowly, moving impossibly closer into your space. “I think you need to get your hearing checked out, love.”

You blinked some more. “What?”

“Have I broken you?” he asked, the corner of his perfect lips turning up at the thought. “First you forget your words, and now you have lost your hearing. . .” he trailed off as he continued to stare intently into your eyes.

What is he playing at. . .? you wondered as you blankly stared at him.

The two of you stood there and took each other in for quite a while. In reality, it mustn’t have been for very long—at most a minute and a half—but to you, it felt like hours. You were so close you could see the light reflecting in his heterochromatic eyes and the small streaks of gray in the turquoise-colored one.

“I . . . like you, too,” Shouto suddenly confessed, violently snapping you out of the daze his proximity causes. “I have harbored feelings for you for some time now.”

WHAT!?

“You . . . do?” you asked, skeptical. You were hesitant to believe his words in fear that this whole thing was some sick prank. But—

No. Shouto isn’t that type of person, you thought. He barely understands humor as it is, so he must be telling the truth.

“I do,” he confirmed.

“Oh, um.” You fumbled again for words, embarrassment flooding your entire system once more. You licked your dry lips, missing the way Shouto’s eyes locked onto the movement. “Cool.”

Shouto blinked at you, one of his perfect eyebrows raising. “Cool?” he repeated with a sly smile overcoming his lips.

“Mhm.” You dumbly nodded. “Cool.” You paused before muttering a small, “Ditto.”

He chuckled again, subtly moving the tiniest bit closer to you. He was just about crowding you into the corner at this point. “Ditto, huh?” He mumbled under his breath with a widening smirk playing at his lips. “I think I have broken you, dear.”

You grinned. “Perhaps.” Shouto chuckled again before falling silent. The two of you stared at the other, lost in each other’s gazes.

“Can I kiss you?” He spoke on an exhale, his deep voice somehow even deeper. Before you could internally flip the fuck out and fully comprehend what was happening, you were already nodding. That was all the confirmation Shouto needed before he brought your lips in for a sensual kiss. Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as you relaxed into him.

You smiled into the kiss. Thank you, chopsticks.

The next day, you and Shouto walked into the classroom holding hands. Everyone collectively stopped what they were doing to openly gape at the two of you as Shouto, always the gentleman, escorted you to your seat. The shocked silence lasted all but three seconds before Mina and Tooru let out ear-piercing shrieks and practically tackled you.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mina was shouting meanwhile Tooru was holding onto you so tight to the point that she was nearly crushing you into her invisible body.

“AHHHH, I knew this was gonna happen!” she exclaimed before somehow pulling you in closer.

“Can’t . . . breathe.” You wheezed out before your boyfriend pulled you away from the two fangirls and protectively held you to his chest.

“I would be grateful if you didn’t crush my girlfriend to death, Tooru.” He intoned in his naturally dry tenor. His statement only made them freak out even more.

“Ah! Look at the two love birds!” Ochako swooned.

“Fuckin’ disgustin’,” grumbled a deep voice from somewhere in the back of the room.

Before you could turn to shoot Bakugou a death glare, Shouto was already clapping back. “What, are you jealous, Bakugou?”

The desks which had surrounded the blond a moment prior were blown to shiverines.

“I’LL END YOU!”

Fin.

→ extras: snapshot 1, snapshot 2, fic tag

No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing or inserted into any type of AI generator. Do not recommend my work on TikTok. Do not repost on YouTube.

[randompiecesofwriting]

Coffee Snob (pt 3)

Summary: Robby removes readers stitches, she brings food to the Pitt as a thank you much to his coworkers glee

Pairing: Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Nothing really just another super fluffy one as things start to get more serious!

Author’s Note: I had absolutely no idea this would grow to be this many parts when I wrote the first one but I am so over the moon with the reception I’ve gotten from the first two parts so I wrote this one too! I’m having so much fun with these two and I’m planning already one more part I think so look out for that! As always please please please let me know what you think! I incessantly reread every comment and reblog with cute tags or extra words they’re my favorite things seriously you all are the best!

Part 1 Part 2

Phone, wallet, keys, phone, wallet, keys.

This was the mantra that resonated through your head as you paced back and forth through your apartment, grabbing anything you could think of to throw into your bag.

Chapstick, hair tie, charger, it all got thrown in.

A book even for while you were waiting, though this had to be a new one since you discovered Robby was keeping the one you were currently reading hostage in his apartment prompting you to now possess a “Robby’s apartment” book and a “your apartment” book. A needlessly complicated system that somehow still worked.

You patted down your pockets making sure that at the very least the essentials were still on you.

Phone, wallet, keys.

With one last look you slipped on your shoes.

Phone, wallet, keys.

Grabbing the door handle you gave the room one last look before turning it.

Phone, wallet, keys

Phone- Robby?

Swinging open your apartment door you came face to face with the familiar physician, warm brown eyes blown open in surprise, fist slightly raised as if to knock on your door.

For a brief moment all the two of you could do was simply stare at one another, the shock starting to ware off as he slowly dropped his arm and the corner of your lips quirked up in a small smile “hey neighbor”

“Hey” he answered softly, another silent beat passing before his eyes snapped to the bag on your shoulder, and the shoes on your feet “headed out?”

“Yeah” you nodded, waving your arm in the air in front of you “finally time to get these out”

He smiled back at that, nodding his head softly “we’re on the same page then, I was just coming to get you”

You furrowed your brow slightly at that, tilting your head to one side in a silent question, had he planned to come walk with you to the clinic?

Seeming to misunderstand your question he shoved his hands into his pockets as he spoke and gestured vaguely down the hall with his head “Yeah I grabbed a removal kit before I left today, come on I’ll get it set up”

Only then did his meaning hit you. He thought you were coming to get him to remove them. “Oh no that’s okay I’m on my way to urgent care”

His smile dropped instantly, eyes scanning over you briefly “why are you going to urgent care? Is everything okay?”

You chuckled softly at his concern, waving him off as you stepped into the hallway and shut your door behind you “yeah I’m fine, just need to get them removed, no biggie”

He seemed almost taken aback by your answer, a frown growing on his face as he brought his arms up to cross over his chest “I can take them out for you”

“Aren’t you supposed to be back on shift in a few hours” You asked with a laugh, the statement being a little hyperbolic but the sentiment behind it all the same “go rest I’ll be fine at urgent care”

His frown only deepened at that, arms tightening in front of him “so you’re just going to let anyone go at you with a blade?”

“Go at me with a blade” you couldn’t help but laugh at his phrasing, smile only dimming slightly as his serious façade still didn’t crack “that’s a bit dramatic don’t you think? Besides I’m fairly certain they all have medical degrees”

“And you know who else does?” He countered quickly “me. They guy right down the hall. Who doesn’t have a wait time and will not charge you”

“Who’s off the clock” You could feel yourself start to get defensive under his disapproving gaze, not realizing how serious he would take this, desperate to make him understand where you were coming from “this stuff is trivial I just didn’t want to bother you with it but if you don’t mind-“

“Of course I don’t mind” he cut you off, his tone almost disbelieving as if the statement itself were absurd “I told you to bother me with things like this”

“You told me to bother you next time I was at the Pitt” Again you were on the defensive “then it was about bothering you with work things while you were at work. You’re off the clock now I don’t want to make you do more work stuff when you don’t have to”

An almost scoff escaped him but the tension held in his stance seemed to fade slightly, brows no longer furrowed quite so severely in frustration “I meant bother me when you’re hurt. Unless it warrants a 911 call come to me” he paused briefly, almost seeming to contemplate his next words before he spoke “I want you to come to me”

You eyed him almost skeptically, watching his face intently, looking for any hint of mistruth “I just feel bad making you work in your free time”

With a dramatic groan he ran a hand through his hair at your words, giving the short strands a quick ruffle before speaking again “you don’t let me take out those stitches and from now on I won’t eat anything you make”

A surprised laugh escaped you at that, your own arms coming to cross over your chest as you mirrored Robby’s posture “what?”

He grinned maliciously at that, nodding slightly as he spoke “I just feel bad making you work in your free time”

You rolled your eyes as your words were thrown back at you “now you’re just being ridiculous”

“Correct” he answered immediately starting to grow smug “this line of logic is ridiculous”

“It’s different” you shot back “I like cooking for you”

He only raised a brow in response, shooting you a pointed look, practically daring you to connect the dots yourself “you’re telling me you enjoy removing stitches in your free time”

He rolled his eyes at that, debating something in his head for a second before speaking, his voice slightly gruffer than before “I like making sure you’re okay in my free time”

You froze on the spot at his words, chest aching slightly as you felt your face start to flush, something Robby seemed to notice as his tone grew smug once more.

“something you did for me just a few days ago when I was sick”

You narrowed your eyes back at him in response, Robby’s expression telling you he knew he had backed you into a corner with that one “I’m making you dinner to make up for it”

He only grinned at that, taking a small step back to allow you room to continue down the hall towards his apartment “you promise?”

Mostly feigning a look of frustration you slipped past him towards his door with a small huff “smug doesn’t suit you Robinavitch”

Robby only laughed in response.

-

This was ridiculous you weren’t nervous to meet Robby’s friends.

That was something people who were dating would do. Something people who were invested would do. Certainly not something a simple neighbor would do.

Maybe if you just thought of them as coworkers that would help.

For better or for worse you couldn’t really dwell on your feelings about the situation, the bags your arms were weighed down with kept you from being able to debate actually going into the hospital for too long.

So fueled more by a desire to rest your aching muscles than anything else you forced your way to the ER of PTMH for the second time in about a week, already regretting the move as a familiar wave of bodies greeted you upon entry.

Before you could talk yourself out of it you made your way to the front desk, bypassing the line of waiting people and flagging one of the nurses who was off to the side doing paperwork.

“You’re going to have to wait in line” she barely spared you a glance as her pen flew across the page.

“No I’m here to see Dr. Michael Robinavitch” You tried to put as much confidence into your voice as you had when you had practiced this interaction earlier.

The move, however, did not have the desired effect as still the nurse’s gaze only came up to quickly sweep you for injuries before returning to her paperwork “As I said you’re going to have to wait your turn in line, a doctor will be by to see you shortly”

“No I-“ you tried to wrack your brain for a way to properly convey that you weren’t a patient, coming up mostly blank leaving you with only one option, one that left you with a too-high-to-be-comfortable chance of completely embarrassing yourself in the process “I’m blue tumbler girl?”

The woman behind the desk froze on the spot, pen hovering just over the surface of the paper as her wide eyes shot up to connect with yours. Your words even had the woman currently dealing with the line snapping to attention, the two woman sharing a silent glance at one another before gaping openly at you.

You tried hard not to squirm under their attention, knowing you were failing miserably in the process and instead deciding to steam-roll ahead “I just wanted to-“ you started to lift the bags in your arm to show them when you were cut off by a loud buzz from the door behind you.

“You can go ahead through that door we’ll let him know you’re here” one of them directed you with a polite smile.

“No that’s okay you don’t have to-“ you tried to protest but the two were already huddled together from behind their desk, rapid fire whispers bouncing back and forth between the two women, both of whom sported expressions you knew would spell trouble for Robby later.

Relieved to at least have their attention off of you, you pushed your way through the door and walked through the hallways back to where you remembered the nurses station to be, coming face to face with the exact person you had been hoping to see.

Dana’s face lit up with a warm smile the minute her eyes connected with yours, dismissing the woman she was talking to quickly and making her way across the room to you, not hesitating to grab one of the heavy bags you were clearly struggling with as she engulfed you in a one-armed hug “hey kid what brings you to the Pitt?”

“Dana” you sighed in relief as you hugged her back “I just wanted to thank you guys for taking care of me last week. I brought food if that’s okay?”

“Of course that’s okay” she waved off your concern without a thought, a steady hand placed on your back to lead you to one of the side rooms as she did so “come on I’ll show you to the break room”

“good I just wasn’t sure if I would just be in the way or if no one would end up wanting it” you gladly followed her lead into the small room, placing the bag you held onto the table.

“please with these animals it’ll be gone in twenty minutes” she shook you off again, working to start removing trays from the bags and set them out for easy access “plus Jianna’s? Better be careful or you’ll spoil them, this couldn’t have been cheap”

“ahhh I-“ you trailed off a bit, suddenly bashful beneath the older woman’s gaze as you helped her “I head chef there so you could say they sort of owe me”

She whistled loudly at that making you chuckle and squirm slightly as she gave you an appraising once over. Eager to turn the attention elsewhere you reached into the bag and plucked one of the drinks from the carrier within.

“Speaking of I came straight from work so no pour over coffee for you today but we do have a kick-ass espresso machine there so…latte?”

Her eyes gleamed as she eagerly took the to-go cup from you and popped the top off, sticking her nose close to the surface and humming softly as she took a deep sniff of its contents. A quick sip later and she was putting the lid back on and bringing up a hand to your cheek, cradling your face in it as she appraised you with a lopsided smirk “I think I’ll keep you”

You laughed through the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding as you swatted her hand away “there’s one in there for Javadi too if she wants it. Tell her I said thank you again when you see her”

“You got it kid” she winked at you as she took a deep sip of her drink, heading back out towards the door “I’ll go find Robby and let him know you’re here”

“Oh no you don’t have to” again you were stuck trying to persuade people not to bother Robby during his shift.

And again you were being completely ignored for it “nah kid you’re not slipping away from this one”

“Please I don’t want to be a bother I really just came by to drop off some food”

“Think of it as helping me out then” she countered, resting one hip on the door as she spoke “I don’t want to have to deal with a grumpy Dr.Robby if he knew you’d been here and I hadn’t told him”

You deflated slightly at the argument, knowing you weren’t going to win this one, desperately trying not to put too much weight into her words “Yeah okay I’ll be here”

“That’s the spirit” she chuckled back at you as she pushed the door open and disappeared through it.

You were alone for barely two minutes before the door to the room was harshly pushed open and a familiar looking doctor was storming in.

“Hey what’s wrong are you okay?” Robby flew into the room in a rush, barely giving you time to breathe before he was reaching for your arm and bringing the injury up to his eyes to examine it “was it the cut? Did something happen?”

You were laughing before you could think to form proper words, pulling your arm from the man’s grasp without a second thought “Robby you literally took the stitches out for me last night what could’ve possibly happened in the hours it’s been since then”

“A lot for the record” he glared at you, despite everything the corners of his mouth perking up slightly in amusement “but you know it’s not usually healthy people who come into the Pitt”

“I just wanted to bring you guys some food” you forced some extra exasperation into your tone in hopes of hearing him chuckle as you gestured to the half un-packed bags on the table “It was just supposed to be a quick thank you I didn’t mean to bother-“

You cut yourself off at his look, could see the way he was gearing himself up to tell you once again that you weren’t a bother for coming to see him in the ER, something you felt you could push back on since the circumstances surrounding this trip to the Pitt were drastically different than the ones before.

But hoping to spare yourself the lecture you’ve already received you simply corrected yourself “-interrupt. I didn’t mean to interrupt your busy schedule”

The smirk on his face at your correction was much too smug for your liking but you let him have it anyways, a part of you always happy to let him revel in anything that had him smiling.

Reaching into the bag closest to you, you dug amongst the boxes for a brief moment before finding the one you were looking for, pulling it out and pushing it into his hands with a soft “here”

He looked down at the meal appreciatively, raising a single eyebrow at you in silent question.

“Remember that recipe I told you the other day I was working on? I think I’ve got it nailed down so I wanted to have you try it” you desperately tried to downplay the importance of it, the intimacy of Robby being the first person other than yourself to try a new recipe of yours, silently praying he wouldn’t pick up on how much his opinion of it meant to you.

“Ahhh so you needed guinea pigs”

You snorted at his response, relief surging through you at the joke “Guinea pig singular. Rest of the crew gets regular menu items. I wasn’t going to subject them to untested material”

He grinned at you in response as a soft huff escaped him “just me then that gets the risk of inedible food”

“Perks of being my favorite doctor” the words slipped out of you before you could think twice, a brief panic at being too forward surging through you before you leaned into a joke to deflect the sincerity “don’t tell Dana I said that though”

He chuckled at that with a soft shake of his head, the pink tint coloring his cheeks telling you the deflection didn’t land completely “she’s a nurse so you can argue the semantics of the epithet if need be”

“Good I’m not sure if I’m terrified of her or in love with her”

“Yeah she has that effect on people”

A silence fell over the two of you at that that for the first time with him it felt tense, but thankfully not uncomfortable, neither of you doing anything more than staring at one another before you acknowledged that one of you needed to break it. You nodded to the door behind him “I should head out, gotta start my prep here soon, but you’ll let me know what you think of that yeah?”

“Yeah” he nodded in the affirmative, a soft and dare you say found smile on his lips as he moved out of your way from the door “I take me duty as guinea pig very seriously”

“good it’s always such a hassle to find a new one” you found yourself lingering in the doorway, hesitant to leave just yet “oh and there’s a mocha in the bag for Javadi if she wants it as a thank you for stitching me up”

“You’re going to spoil my staff with all this specialty coffee” despite the comment you could see the appreciation in his eye, the complete lack of heat behind the jab.

You shrugged nonchalantly “gotta win them over, maybe one day I’ll graduate from blue tumbler girl to just coffee girl”

He laughed back at that, his head ducking slightly as he did so, crossing his arms over his chest in the process.

You took a brief second to relish the sound, giving him one last look before nodding and pushing the door open with your hip, resigning yourself with going back to work when your name being called halted you in your tracks, your gaze snapping back into the break room to meet his “Thank you. For the food I mean”

You couldn’t have bit back the grin on your face if you had tried “Anytime Michael”

-

“Whoa what’s all this? You order us food Robby?” Langdon asked, never once questioning if the food was even meant for him, hands already digging into the bag to pull out a box, handing it to Perlah on his left without a thought.

“No I didn’t Y/N my uh-“ he faltered suddenly, the words dying on his lips as he struggled for what to classify you as “Y/N brought it in for us, a thank you for stitching her up”

His tone had the two freezing before him, devious smirks passed wordless between them already making Robby roll his eyes before any words could be said, Perlah piping in eagerly with news “Front desk said blue tumbler brought in bags from Jianna’s”

“So blue tumbler’s name is Y/N” Langdon smirked at Robby who was doing his best to tamp down his exasperation, knowing it would only spur them on further.

“I still don’t understand why the blue tumbler was that big of a deal” still the annoyance dripped from his words as he muttered them

“Robby you came into work smiling”

“Humming even” Perlah pipped in, eyes already back on the bag of food as she dug through it.

“Humming” Langdon repeated with wide eyes and a wicked grin.

“Thought Abbot was going to have a stroke trying to process what he was seeing”

“And holding a coffee tumbler that was definitely not your own in a death grip” Langdon was looking much too smug for his liking at the observation.

With a deep sigh Robby rubbed tired hands deep into his eyes “I spend way too much time with you people”

“Dana said the coffee you had in there was good shit too. Way better than the stuff you normally drink” Perlah steamrolled ahead as if he had never spoken, finally choosing one of the take-out boxes and extracting it from the bag.

“Dana’s been drinking from a new green tumbler here lately” Langdon pointed out “plus she walked out of here with a cup that looked an awful lot like this one” he said as he extracted a to-go cup from the bag he had been looking in.

Robby almost regretted having to speak up about it now, knowing it was exactly what they were fishing for, running an anxious hand through the hair at the back of his neck as he did so “don’t, that’s a mocha for Javadi”

“How come Dana and Javadi get coffee from blue tumbler lady” Langdon pitched his voice to sound almost petulant, completely ignoring the glare Robby sent his way.

“She’s not supplying the whole floor with coffee”

“Would you look at that he’s already possessive over her” Langdon was downright giddy at Robby’s reaction, eyes cutting down to meet Perlah’s “think Abbot’s heard about that yet”

Robby groaned dramatically and swiped his box off the table as he made his way out the door before the other two could say anything further, muttering under his breath as he left the breakroom “why is he everyone’s go to”

Part 4

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── KISS IT BETTER ♡

♡ pairing: husband!spencer x lovely wife!reader

♡ summary: taking care of your husband while he's sick.

♡ warnings / tags: fluff, showering together wc: 1k

♡ author's note: spencer pls let me take care of you <3

LOVELY WIFE MASTERLIST ♡ 5K MASTERLIST

you'd think that if someone was to have a good immune system, it would be the man who avoided germs like a simple handshake was the equivalent of someone sneezing in his face. however, only a cruel man would be able to resist taking care of his lovely wife while she was sick.

however, only a few days after you had gotten better, spencer had woken up with a sore throat, his face as hot as coals; already worse off than you had been when you got sick, but the second day was even worse than the first day had been.

"you don't have to take care of me…" spencer mumbled, letting out a weak cough as you placed a towel-covered ice pack on your husband's forehead. "for a genius, you can be really dumb sometimes, you know." you mumbled, yet your tone showed nothing but fondness as you pushed his dark curls away from his face, "in sickness and in health, spencer."

there was a faint, weak smile on his face, "i'm gonna run by the pharmacy and pick up some stuff for you. try to get some sleep, 'kay?" spencer nodded; you didn't have to tell him twice; his eyes were already closing on the account of the chamomille tea you'd brewed for him.

when you got back home, your clothes and hair soaked from the grueling rainstorm outside, the apartment was quiet except for the loud breathing coming from the bedroom. you furrowed your brows and walked into the bedroom where you'd left him, sitting down at the edge of the bed, sweat covering spencer's skin. when you lifted the covers, his pajamas were soaked in sweat.

"spencer. spencer, wake up." you gently shook your husband, the man mumbling incoherently as his eyes slowly fluttered open. you took the towel you'd placed on his face and placed your hand on his forehead, "you're burning up, sweetheart. i think we should go to the hospital..."

"no, no..." the man coughed, his voice even weaker than before. "it'll... it'll start to get better soon. it should. it usually does." "i'm worried about you, spencer." "if... if it's not any better by morning then we can go. i just need you here with me..."

"alright." you sighed, taking the bottle of fever medicine you'd gotten for him, "i know you don't like taking medication when you can avoid it, but i hope this is okay. it's liquid, and it's meant for kids." you pointed to the little bear on the label of the glass bottle, a small, playful smile on your lips, "i named him 'honey'."

spencer's pale lips quirked up into a weak smile and his head nodded slightly. you measured some of the medication into the cap of the bottle, bringing it to spencer's lips, tilting it, your husband's adam apple bobbing as he swallowed it.

"good boy." you chuckled softly as you put the bottle aside, starting to unbutton his pajama shirt, "are you trying to take advantage of me in my weak state?" spencer said in a hoarse, his lips still quirked up in a smile. you rolled your eyes, a smile still on your lips "totally. i think you with a snotty, red nose is the sexiest you've ever looked. makes me wanna jump you."

you took the container of vicks vaporub out of the pharmacy bag, unscrewing the cap off and swiping some of it onto your fingers, before bringing your hand to spencer's chest, starting to rub it onto your husband's chest, the man letting out a soft hum.

once you'd placed a new cold rag on spencer's forehead, you turned the lights off and circled to the other side of the bed, getting into bed next to spencer, pressing yourself into his side, your fingers drawing patterns on his stomach as you closed your eyes, listening to the sound of rain pattering against the roof.

"good morning." you heard a hoarse voice say and your eyes softly fluttered open to look up at spencer with a small smile, the man looking at you fondly, some color having returned to his lips, his skin slightly less pale than the night before.

"were you watching me sleep?" you asked, narrowing your eyes. "yes. it makes me feel better."

you brought your hand to spencer's forehead, pursing your lips in thought, "looks like it worked. your fever's gone down a bit. god, i wish i would've known earlier that all you needed was a dose of your loving wife. there's only one problem."

spencer's brows furrowed in question, and you simply grinned, smelling his armpit, "you've been sweating for three days without showering. you reek like a swamp." your quip earned a hoarse laugh from your husband as he squeezed you closer to his chest.

it wasn't long until your bodies were pressed together under the chilly stream of water. your hands reached up to massage cherry-scented shampoo into spencer's hair, smiling as the shampoo turned into foam in his dark curls, scratching his scalp in a way that earned you a pleased hum from your husband.

his wet lips pressing small kisses on your shoulders as he washed your back for you, making you lean into spencer's touch. "i love you..." he hummed softly into your shoulder, your lips quirking up into a fond smile. "i love you too."

after showering and drying spencer's hair for him, the man sitting down on the bed as he looked up at you with reverence, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on his forehead, "do you think you can get something down? i think you should eat." "i think so." he said with a small, weak smile. "i'll be right back."

spencer wasn't sure how long you were gone, but once you returned, it was with a tray with a bowl of soup and a cup of tea, sitting down next to him on the bed and handing the tray to him. "you're too good for me…" spencer mumbled, making you roll your eyes, booping his nose. "eat your soup and we can watch fourth gen doctor who."

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[kentosovertime]

𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔭𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔰 (adj.) light, translucent, and delicate

✨Masterlist | Tag List | Ask Box✨ ☽ toji blackmails shui's cute little girlfriend ☽ cw: noncon, cohersion, noncon filiming, explicit content

“What would he think, princess?” Toji’s tone drips with condescension as he backs you into a corner as the party’s music blasts in the background. His fingers move over his phone screen, as he coos down at you. “Would he call you a whore if he saw?”

Your eyes widen at the realization of what he’s placed in front of your face. You can still feel the ring of bruises that grace your hips and the sting at your scalp. His hands in the video grip meanly into the hair at the nape of your neck, guiding you back onto his bare cock. His cum already leaks from you as he works to pump more inside of you and you audibly mewl for more. 

He had lied that night, luring you under the guise of showing you something he bought for Shui. The second he had you in that room alone, he bent you over the nearest surface… and you had let him.

“D-delete that.” Your innocent little voice rings through the space, stammering cutely as you try to sound stern. Your hand tries to snatch at the phone, shame flooding your system. Shui can’t see that, no matter what. 

“Princess,” he chides, harshly grasping your wrist in mid air hauling you against his body. “Are you fuckin’ stupid?” 

A noise of protest bubbles out of your throat before his large hand smothers your mouth, barely allowing you to breathe through your nose. 

“You’re gonna let me do it again,” he starts, slipping the phone into his back pocket as he holds your mouth shut. “And we both know you’re gonna be just as tight and wet for me the second time.”

You squirm and press your thighs together. Tears spring to your eyes at how helpless you feel before they spill over onto his hand. You don’t want to want him to have his way with you, but your stomach flutters as his scarred lips quirks up at the corners. 

“Betraying Shui like this…” he tsks at you as he bunches the hem of your frilly dress in his hands. “It’d be enough to make the man cry.” 

You whine loudly from behind his hand as his fingers roughly push past the side of your panties, not waiting a second to work you up before his fingers spear your entrance. The messy squelching is enough to tell him how you really feel about what he’s doing to you. 

“Someone’s gonna come investigate if you don’t shut the fuck up.” Toji growls meanly, his pace becoming extra rough so he can punish you for any slip up. 

He doesn’t want his small window of time with your cute little pussy to be interrupted. He thinks its so fucking adorable how you fight back only to cum for him so easily minutes later. 

He’s so fucking mean and it makes you suck him even deeper. His digits expertly thrum against your sweet spot, making your knees wobble as you teeter close to the edge. But with one loud moan he takes it all away, making you regret making a peep as he yanks his fingers from you. 

“What did I tell ya?” He hisses and flips you, using your hips to spin you face first into the corner. Your face squishes against the hard plane of the cold wall. 

“‘M sorry,” you pant, squirming out of his hold. And like the game he thinks this is you beg for him to let you go even as your center screams for the attention he’s giving you. “T-Toji-”

“Saying my name,” He grunts, opening his pants to line himself up with you, “won’t make me stop.”

Without warning, his hips jerk forward, filling you to the brim with his cock. You cry out in discomfort, the burn almost too much to handle as your nails claw into the drywall beneath you.

“Shui-!” You moan mockingly, pissed that he’s telling you what to do when he’s the one corrupting you like this. 

A loud slap reverberates through the space. You yell out in pain before the heat spreads through you, making you clamp down on him. You pant, backing up into him to push him deeper. 

“Fuckin’ brat,” he growls and digs his fingers into the fat of your ass, drilling into you with hard, fast thrusts, caring little about whether you finish or not. This is about him showing you who you belong to. 

Your body jolts with each clap of his hips into your ass, your tears now staining your cheeks with how close his treatment has pulled you towards your orgasm. 

“Oh f-fuck-” you whimper, rocking back into him readily and willingly as tremors overtake your body. Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, the harsh treatment doing more than Shui’s gentle touch ever could. 

“There it fuckin’ is.” He gloats, a smug chuckle filling the space between you. “Gonna send you back to him full of me.”

You sag against the wall as his thrusts turn syncopated, favoring the harsh battering of your cervix as he empties himself into you. As he stills, he pants in exertion, delivering another rough smack to your ass, effectively dismissing you.

“Go find your boy toy, princess. I’m sure he’s searching for you by now.”

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