#(tails is the one who wants the mints)

[mirersc]

First post and I don't know what to say, haha.

Have this drawing of Tails enjoying his mints instead of me blubbering nonsense. I might introduce myself through my way here. See ‘yeah’ around!

[kingofthe-egirls]

SITTING PRETTY: LUFFY x Y/N

(cw: alcohol, kitsune, east blue crew, yes i was imagining the opla cast but so were you, kissing, sitting in someone’s lap)

(a/n: this was so fun. smut maybe coming soon? we’ll see)

Songs: “Hotel” by Claire Rosinkranz

words: 1.2k

Luffy is staring at you.

He’s sitting across the campfire from you, sipping a glass of milk through a straw. You have your own moscow mule in hand, the copper mug sweating with cold condensation.

The air smells like smoke.

“So!” Luffy speaks, twirling his straw around in his drink. He slurps it loudly before continuing, “Let’s play a game!”

He smiles around at the rest of the crew, who are all in their own various states of intoxication. It’s been a long night, after several days at sea with no islands in sight. Everyone is a little bored, a little stressed, and more than a little in need of blowing off some steam. Nami shrugs.

“Sure, captain. What’s up?”

Luffy leans forward, wicked smirk painting his charming features. You stare down into your melted ice and muddled mint leaves.

“Let’s play truth or dare!”

Zoro sighs, but leans forward too. Sanji and Usopp also perk up. The Merry creaks in the waves as she sails. The ocean laps at her sides, soothing and peaceful in the summer night air. The campfire sparks up with a flare.

Luffy slurps his milk.

“What are the stakes?” Nami asks, adjusting in her seat, her boots slung over one another as she leans back. Usopp is fiddling with his slingshot.

Zoro shrugs, “Drink if you won’t take a dare, drink twice if you won’t take a truth.”

“So, we’re trying to outmatch each other? Get stuff we won’t wanna do?”

“Sorta,” Zoro says, “S’alright with everyone?”

“Sounds fun,” you admit, downing your glass before handing it off to Sanji. He’s a sucker for your sparkly eyes and fluffy tails. Your ears flick back and forth, excited. Nervous.

Sanji hurries back with a refill.

He straightens his suit jacket before sitting back down. The indigo night washes over him with a flattering, velvet softness. You wonder what shade of blue his eyes are, up close.

Luffy clears his throat.

“Sooo, who wants to go first?” His shining eyes scan the crew, and you flick up a tail (or two). He smiles, and takes a sip of his kid’s drink.

You sigh. “Truth,” you say, staring at Nami. You figure she’s gonna strike the worst, so might as well get it over with first. She stares at you, flicking her eyes up and down your scrappy frame. She arches an auburn brow.

“So, Kitty,” she sips her cider, and Sanji shifts in his seat. “Have you ever had sex before?”

She’s smiling, devilish, as you snort through your drink. She laughs as you cough, orange hair swaying in the soft breeze. Everyone else stutters and laughs, and Zoro mutters something about “starting off strong.” You swallow, sucking your teeth as you swirl melted ice around your drink.

“Yes.”

Everyone sighs out in relief, tension removed for a second of release.

Your eyes flick up to hers.

“Your turn.”

She stares back at you: a challenge.

“Dare.”

You shrug, mouth turned down, “I dare you to say when the last time you had sex was.” You stare at her glare, as she clocks you basically just gave her a truth anyway. She sniffs.

“Last week.”

“Liar!” You say, and she giggles. You shove the bottle of tequila closer to her, and she swallows what is certainly more than just one shot.

“Your turn,” she says to Zoro, who glances at Luffy for his prompt.

Luffy stares at the floor, now-empty glass held loosely in slender fingers. “What…is your favorite color?”

“I didn’t say truth, captain,” Zoro snorts, “Truth or dare, Luffy.”

“Dare?”

Sanji sighs, and Usopp says “we might as well go with it,” so Zoro sighs and starts to think of something to dare his already-reckless captain with. He settles on something silly, and tame.

“I dare you to slingshot back and forth across the ship five times.”

Happy to be moving, your hyperactive friend shoots up and starts gum-gum rocketing across the ship with no small amount of shouting. You swirl the mint leaves in your drink. “Your turn,” you murmur to Usopp, who gives Sanji a glance.

“Truth or dare?” The chef asks, his own glass of wine clutched in his delicate fist. It’s as dark as the sea.

“Truth.”

“What do Kaya’s lips taste like?”

The group ooo’s in scandalous delight, all eyes on the sniper as he stares down into his drink. “Pass,” he says, and takes a huge slurp. It dribbles down his chin. “Who’s turn is next?”

“Sanji,” you say, turning to him with a smile, “Truth or dare, handsome?”

He blushes at your pet name, and someone coughs. The blond boy licks his lips. His eyes meet yours, reflecting the fire’s red heat.

“Dare.”

“Kiss my cheek,” you preen, tails flicking around you. You bare the side of your face to him, sitting pretty by the campfire. Your scrappy jeans have stitched-on patches, and your crop top hangs loose around your frame. A single pendant hangs around your neck, and your hair is twisted into messy braids. You knock your steel-toed boots together.

Sanji hums, peaceful, as he delicately scoots toward you. He’s already sitting next to you, tall legs and broad shoulders bumping into yours as he settles closer in. His hand is slightly cool as it graces the side of your neck. “Be still, pretty,” he whispers, just for you, as he presses a slow smooch against your cheek. He bites it, playfully, and you swat him away with a fearsome blush.

Usopp giggles, and Nami snorts into her cider again. Zoro and Luffy are both silent. You swallow, and cast about the crew for someone else’s turn. “Is it me again?” You ask, and Zoro nods.

“Truth or dare?” He says, sake almost drained from his bottle. The air stills, sudden breeze gone quiet as you sit together. You curl two tails around yourself, petting the soft, arctic fur in your lap. It scratches against the striped patch on the side of your left hip.

“Truth.”

“Nope,” Zoro says, swigging his sake, “Truth is boring. You’re doing a dare. Sit in the lap of the person you’d most like to have sex with.”

Everyone gasps, except for you.

Your eyes burn with smoke, staring down the swordsman across the crackling flames. Sparks shoot up between you, orange and hazy in the moonlight. Something thumps against the ship; a fish or a shark that swims away silently.

You stand.

Sanji shifts, still close to you from his kiss. He scratches the fabric of his slacks above his left knee. His shoes are shiny and black beneath the stars. You step over them, carefully.

And you make your way across the circle, slowly as a shark circling prey.

“Sorry,” you whisper, standing in front of the captain who saved you, “Is this seat taken?”

He stares at you.

His breath comes ragged and hazy, as he sets his glass down to make room. His hands are sweaty, so he wipes them off on his shorts as you stand beside his hip. He leans back, slightly, to let you sit side-saddle across his legs. He shifts on the deck so he’s cross-legged, and you take your seat with a searing blush. Your ass fits neatly into the space between his crisscrossed legs, his heat spilling into your body as he wraps his arms around your waist.

He nuzzles into your cheek, his soft hair tickling your jaw. “Sleeping in my hammock tonight,” he whispers, his lips in your hair, “Captain’s orders.”

****

[grapejuicestyless]

To Love, To Love, To Love

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: You thought you were over him in every way possible, but you can never really kill feelings that strong.

His curls were soft between my fingers, knuckle deep in his hair, pulling out the tangles with each curl of my fingers.

He hummed appreciatively against my chest, his cheek pressed to my body, lips resting heavily between the valley of my breasts. I could feel each breath lingering on my skin, his lip balm smeared on my shirt, one he had bought for me the night before to match.

“They just threw away the entire plot line in the fourth movie, I don’t get it. It’s like everything that made the first three so good was completely ruined for the sake of some extra cash.” Harry mumbled tiredly, pointing at the tv with narrowed eyes.

“This company always does this, can you even be surprised? Every successful franchise always becomes a cash grab for them.”

Harry hummed, and the sound vibrated against my body. It was all so serene between us. A calm after a whirlwind of a few years.

Harry and I had been two wild dogs, chasing after each other’s tails, running in desperate circles yet we ran at the same pace, and we never figured out how to capture what we wanted.

So many nights had been spent crying over the boy, how my heart ached with affection for my best friend, how badly I needed him to want me. I began dressing better for him, and carrying around mints with the hope that maybe the next time I would see him, he would have me.

But I was a dog with a bird at his door, giving him something valuable to myself that it seemed he never wanted.

Harry did the same things. He’d been drowning in his love for his best friend for so long, aching pains in his bones from the waiting for me. He’d never wanted anything more, but the talking from strangers and advice from friends led us astray. How could the other love each other? How could our best friend develop feelings for us? It all seemed so impossible, and the tears drowned us until we flushed out, and our conversations ran dry.

Nobody tells you that even once you move on, those feelings never really leave. Even now, after years of silence that neither of us meant to keep, after we convinced ourselves we flushed away our devotion and joked about how blind we were, with his head on my chest now I feel especially warm in the familiar house.

You can fall out of love with people, but there will always be that lingering feeling of “what if.” A feeling that bubbles until the warmth returns and your situations draw you back into the storm like a riptide pulling you under. Part of me would always love Harry, only now I liked him much more to ever try and be in love with him again.

Silence is much worse than any rejection. The heartache of realizing you lost contact three months deep hurts much worse than any apology for not returning your feelings. It’s like a knife.

We’ve grown now, we’re older, we can control ourselves. We aren’t teenagers who run around kissing the people by the bars, we stay inside and don’t go looking for something that will someday find us. When I complain that I want to kiss someone, to be kissed, he raises his hand eagerly and smiles, declaring he wants to press his lips to mine. But it’s all a joke now, or that’s how I see it.

Maybe to him, it’s not. Maybe when we make jokes about being in love, about the songs he wrote for me in my wake and the tears I shed over him it’s because part of it is still true, maybe we just don’t believe it anymore. Harry once loved me just as hard and true as I once did for him. Though we may not be chasing after one another, I know that part of him still loves me too.

When we’re forty and single, we’ll get married, and we’ll laugh about how long it took us to get together, but for now he lays on my chest and makes fun of some old movies that seemed better when we were kids. He points out the bad green screen that we never caught when we were younger, and his laughter will echo through my bones.

And I’ll soak up every moment with him, because even if we never happened, at least I have him. At least we never became strangers.

[hyunniesgirl]

oooh Slytherin!hyunjin gives amortentia to reader after she rejects him so many timesss and after the effect gone she found out and mad oooh angst angst idk happy ending hahahahhahahaa (sorry for my bad grammar)

So this ask got me super excited!!! I love writing fantasy so count me in, babes! Please ignore any mistakes since I stopped reading Harry Potter in the forth book and just settled for the movies lmao

Here are some spells used in the story that may be confusing for my sweeties that are not into harry potter:

¹Amortentia: it's the most powerful love potion, it can't reproduce real love and it comes with dangerous side effects like a powerful infatuation or obsession. It smells differently to each person, like the things(or people) the person who's feeling the scent likes.

²Cruciatus: a spell(curse) used to torture people.

I'm using this post to celebrate reaching 200 followers 🥳, thank you for those who like what I write and keep supporting me, I'll keep working hard to bring more nice stories for you!!

I wish you would

Pairing: Slytherin!Hyunjin x fem!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 5,120(I'm sorry about that not really I just got very inspired)

Hyunjin is obsessed with you, everyone with eyes and ears knows that. He runs after you like a dog runs after its tail and you always try being nice, try rejecting him in a way to not hurt him but he doesn't seem to take a hint.

Your class just ended, you collect your books and walk to the corridor, feeling his eyes on you.

"What's it?" You ask, turning around to look at him. His green and black uniform matching perfectly with his blond hair. He seems taken aback with the sudden attention, since he's used to you ignoring him.

"I just wanted to give you this", he smiles, holding a paper bag to you, "Felix made brownies and I just thought you'd like a snack, I know you're studying a lot for exams"

You smile, you love brownies but you're not sure if you should accept it. It's been a day since you rejected Hyunjin… again. He doesn't seem bothered by it anymore, he just keeps coming on strong and at this point you already know it's just a trait of his personality to not give up easily. But it would seem inconsiderate to not accept, since he brought it just for you.

"Don't think too much", he shake the bag a little, "I'm just trying to look out for you"

You sigh, accepting the gift and thanking him. It's not going to kill you to be nice this one time.

After saying goodbye you head to the library, you're going to meet Seungmin to study. Your classes are not that difficult this semester, so you're just using your extra time to study for the bigger exams.

It's already past dinner time when you finish your studies, your friend gave up a few hours back and went to the dorms while you stayed to study a bit more.

You're hungry so you look at the paper bag Hyunjin gave you and look inside. The brownies have a nice scent of mint? Maybe Felix added some to the recipe.

One it's not enough, it's so good you end up eating the whole lot. Maybe you shouldn't have, you feel sick instantly after finishing it and the librarian comes running as soon as she looks at your face.

"Are you alright, darling? You look pale", she asks and you nod, maybe the exhaustion is finally hitting you.

You grab your things and walk towards the dormitories of your house, you feel your mouth dry and an empty feeling on your chest. What's going on? You look around, there's very little people in the hall since it's almost curfew time.

When you're crossing the courtyard, you see a shadow of someone hovering over and you stop in your tracks trying to discern who it is.

You tighten the hold on your wand while they get closer, only to breathe relieved seeing it's just Hyunjin.

"It's already late, you shouldn't be wandering around by yourself", he says.

"Oh, I-", you feel your cheeks warm suddenly, do you have a fever? Your hands are sweating too. "Can you help me?" You ask him, stretching your hand for him to hold, your heart beating fast to the thought of touching him. "I'm not feeling very well"

"Yeah?" He raises an eyebrow, surprised, but still takes a step closer to you, grabbing your arm with a hand and sliding his other to your waist, giving you support by embracing you entirely.

"Thanks, I don't know what came on to me", you mumble and you're not sure if he heard, until you feel him tightening the hold he has on you.

"It's okay, it's my pleasure", he whispers close to your ear and you shiver.

It's strange for you to have this kind of reaction, especially to Hyunjin. It's not that you don't like him perse, you just don't think about dating in general. You want to focus on your studies, do well on your exams and have a good career, it's your parents dream that became your dream.

His pursuit over you got boring after the fourth time you rejected him. It was fun in the beginning, he's Hwang Hyunjin after all: handsome, smart and rich, you felt special when he didn't care about all those people that would crawl after him, but would beg for just a single glance of yours. With time it started bothering you, though. It seemed like the more you rejected him, the more interested he would get.

Why did it bother you, though? It feels nice having him holding you right now, he smells like mint, his warmth is shielding you from the cold air and you think it's okay to have him by your side just for a moment.

You can't stop thinking about him, Hyunjin is the first thing in your mind when you open your eyes in the morning and the whole breakfast you spend looking for him around the great hall, thinking about what he'd like to eat and maybe if he would like to walk with you to your classes.

"Are you alright?" Seungmin's voice takes you out of your thoughts, you realize you're just staring at your food for some time now.

"Nothing", you smile slightly, "I just… do you know where Hyunjin is?"

Seungmin frowns, tilting his head to the side while analyzing you.

"Why would I know that? But most importantly, why do you want to know that?"

You sigh, going back to play with your food.

"I just miss him", you mumble, earning a gasp from your friend.

"Did you finally lose it?" He's staring at you with narrowed eyes, disgusted.

You sigh, looking around one more time and finally seeing Hyunjin entering the hall, he's talking to a girl. Who is she? Why is she smiling so much to him? Why is he smiling back at her?

Your body moves by itself, getting up and walking with heavy steps towards the entrance where Hyunjin is talking to that girl, he seems excited.

You don't like it.

"Excuse me?" You say, waiting for him to turn around. You have your arms crossed in front of your chest and a foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

He looks at you with a smile that almost makes you melt, almost. You get even angrier, did he smile like that to her too?

"Oh, y/n, what can I do for you?"

"Who is she?" You ask without even thinking, why does that matter?

"We have divination together", he answers simply, just like that, as if that was a good enough answer. He frowns in confusion when you don't say anything and keep just staring at him. "Hm, we were just talking about some crazy prophecy Trelawney came up with in the middle of our class yesterday", he finishes, hoping you're satisfied with his answer.

You take your eyes out of him, looking at the girl and lifting one eyebrow, she smiles sheepishly at you and say goodbye to Hyunjin, walking to her house's table.

"Why did you take so long?" You step closer to him, grabbing his hand and holding it with yours.

"I didn't know you were waiting", he answers, leaning closer to you with a smirk in his lips.

"Well, I'll be waiting from now on so you better get here quickly"

You turn around, facing the tables. People are staring and whispering, of course, you never gave the time of day to him, it's something unpredictable to see you being cozy.

You slide his arms over your shoulder, a message to every other person that he's yours now. You're not sure where this possessiveness is coming from but it's there and you have to make it clear.

Hyunjin didn't think the potion would actually work, he's not that good at potions. He's been trying to catch your attention for a very long time but you rejected him over and over. He could have anyone he wanted, just not you and that made him crazy in the beginning, he just wanted you more and more, he's very ambitious after all.

However, after some time, he realized his feelings were deeper than what you thought, even more than he thought.

He started noticing every little thing about you, how you frown when you concentrate too hard, how you make every little feeling of yours show in your face. How you always have to be right.

And how you didn't want anything to do with him.

He was in love with you. That made him desperate, he needed you and you kept turning him down.

So he took drastic measures, he's not sure it's the most ethical thing to do, but he's unquestionably cunning, so he would do anything to achieve his goal.

A week before he gave you the brownies, your potion's class learned how to brew amortentia and he knew he had to give it a try. He spent nights awake trying to make the perfect potion, strong enough for it to work instantly and last long enough for you to not fall out of love easily.

"Are you really going to use a love potion?" Felix asks while watching Hyunjin mix the liquid with the brownies batter.

"I need to", he answers.

"She's going to be pissed if she finds out, you know that, right?" Felix tries again, it's not easy to make Hyunjin give up when he sets his mind to something.

"At least she'll be looking at me", his answer takes Felix by surprise, he knows Hyunjin is in love with you but maybe he can't grasp the depth of his feelings.

Hyunjin decides to wait, he'll try one more time before using the charmed brownies. He sees you in the courtyard, reading. You look beautiful with your hair messed by the wind and your lips moving, pronouncing the words in the book.

"So", he starts, he always tries to be confident around you, even though every time you turn him down his self esteem takes a blow. "When are we going on that date?", he asks, sitting by your side and watching you lift your eyes out of the book to look at him.

"Hm, I don't know about that", you smile kindly. He thinks you're cute being so considerate and trying not to hurt his feelings. Maybe if you weren't so nice to him, he'd already have gotten over you.

"What do I have to do for your answer to be yes?" He asks, bending his upper body to look at your face since you're looking at the book on your lap now.

"Let's not, Hyunjin", you sigh, "you know it's always going to be no"

He swallows hard, he did wish you were harsher in your rejection but he didn't think it would hurt so much.

"I'm not going to give up", he gets up, winking at you, he's too proud to show how hurt he is. "I know you don't dislike me, so that's a win for me", he smiles at you, even though he feels like he's suffocating.

He knows your personality, if you hated the idea of him hitting on you so much, you would already have threatened to crucio him but you don't and it's not because you're too polite for that, he has seen you fight people for much less.

He goes back to the Slytherin's common room and sits in front of the fireplace. It's getting cold lately, you shouldn't stay outside so much and for so long.

He just wants you to look at him, he's sure if you just get to know him better you'll want to be with him, he'll make sure of it.

So he gives you the brownies even though he feels a bit guilty about it, it's to late to back down when he sees you already turning around the corner, heading to the library.

He's restless, not sure when you're going to eat the brownies or if you are going to actually do it, he tries playing a bit of quidditch with his friends and studying but he's too anxious to concentrate on anything other than you. So he stays close to the library, waiting for you to finish your things.

As soon as you walk by the courtyard he can tell you're sick, so he gets closer and helps you get to your common room. Did you actually ask for his help? That sounds like a dream to him, just the thought of being next to you is enough to make him the happiest person alive, feeling your warmth against his body was enough to make him melt. If you didn't need his support, he'd be laying on the floor.

After giving him a peek on the cheek and leaving him behind in the great hall, after breakfast he can feel a burning gaze and he knows exactly who it is from. Seungmin, your best friend.

You might be enchanted but he's not, and if Hyunjin doesn't give you more of the love potion, Seungmin is going to make you fall out of love, he's sure of it.

He brews more of the potion, putting it on another batch of brownies to give to you. And you love the gift, eating all of it while studying with Hyunjin in the library. You're not studying much actually, you're just looking at him and asking questions about him, what he likes to do, about his family and his friends. It's an entirely new world to have all your attention to himself, he loves it, loves to spend time with you. The longer he stays in your presence the more he's sure that he does love you, all of you.

You're feeling tired lately, you lost all the deadlines to your projects in the last two weeks and now you're having to pull all nighters to try and get them all ready before the end of the semester. You have been spending a lot of time with Hyunjin, all the time you're not in class revolves around him.

He has been giving you lots of brownies lately and you're actually getting sick of it but you don't want to be a killjoy and end up accepting it anyway, eating it when you're bored.

This was the last time you accepted it though, you're going to say that you don't want it from now on and maybe Seungmin can help you eat these ones. Your best friend is at the library, waiting for you. He's going to help you finish some details of your project.

"I brought this for you", you shake the paper bag, holding it out for him.

He opens it and looks inside.

"Why does it smells like wood?" He scowls.

"What are you talking about?" You laugh awkwardly, "it smells like mint"

He stares at you for a few seconds before gasping, his hand palming his mouth.

"That's what's wrong with you!" He gets up, throwing the paper bag in the trash and ignoring your 'hey!' in protest. "Did Hyunjin give this to you?" He asks.

"Yes, why?"

"For how long have you been eating these brownies? Did they smell like that since the first time?" He ignores your questions, he looks absolutely out of it.

"Yeah, he gave me the first one's like two weeks ago", you frown, trying to understand what he's trying to say.

"He's been giving you amortentia", he tells you, running his hand through his hair, "how did I not realize that sooner, you've been acting weird for a reason!"

You feel your heart sink, he's been doing what?

That's not possible, he would never do something like that. Right?

You gasp, looking back to the way you have been acting lately, did he really charm you? So none of the things you're feeling are really real?

You managed to stay away from him for so long and suddenly you couldn't think about anything but him, the reason was right under your nose, you can't believe you didn't notice the signs.

"How much time does it take for it to wear out?" You ask, not really remembering what the professor taught you.

"A few hours minimum, a day or two if it's strong enough", Seungmin answers, whatching you seat and look at your fingers. Your chest hurts.

"Can I stay with you tonight? The last batch he gave me was yesterday, I may be fine tomorrow morning", you want to cry, Seungmin recognizes that face. You're looking around trying to prevent the tears from falling and he wants to kill Hyunjin for that.

Seungmin has been your best friend since first year, he didn't think he would have so much in common with someone from your house, but you two just clicked. He knows you like Hyunjin but you're too focused on your future to actually see that. Every time he makes a move on you, you'll turn him down, but your friend can see your eyes lingering on his figure while he walks away, you keep looking until he disappears and then you sigh. Sometimes Seungmin even sees you giggling from something Hyunjin says and your eyes shine brighter in those moments, he's not sure how you didn't realize it yet.

After the hurt eases a bit, you start getting mad. You wake up in the morning and all you can think about is a way to murder Hwang Hyunjin. You can't believe he used you like that, like a fucking toy for him to play house with.

You see him in the corridor, he smiles looking at you and opens his arms, waiting for a hug with a big smile on his face. Disgusting, that's all you can think.

"My love"

You walk confidently to him, taking him by surprise by hitting him in the face with a mixture of punch and slap, doing the movement of a slap but hitting him with your closed fist. He bends down, touching his cheek and looking at you, betrayal in his eyes.

"You fucking asshole!" You're seeing red, you didn't think you'd feel so livid seeing him, you're so hurt, so angry.

"Babe?" He looks at you like you're the one in the wrong.

"Don't", you take a deep breath, looking around to try and ease your anger, "don't call me that. You used a fucking love potion on me? What kind of loser does that?"

He gasps, he didn't think you'd find out about it, not so soon. He was sure he could make you fall in love with him and later on he would tell you about what he did.

Hyunjin could have anyone, there are dozens of people falling on their knees for him, you just can't understand why it has to be you.

"Let me explain, yeah?" He tries, taking a step closer and trying to hold your hands but you step back, glaring even harder at him.

"Don't touch me" you say, gritting your teeth, "you're disgusting"

You turn around, seeing the amount of people looking at your fight with shocked expressions in their faces. Of course no one's going to believe he gave you a love potion, he doesn't need that, he's Hwang Hyunjin.

That makes you even angrier.

You walk fast away from there, you can't believe you have to go through this kind of thing and the worst part is, why does it hurt so much? The effects of the potion must have ended by now, then why do you feel like you can't breath? The tears run out of your eyes without your permission and the hiccups come naturally with the painful cries.

You feel tired, frustrated, overwhelmed but most of all you feel heartbroken. There's no more potion tempering with your feelings but you still feel a lot of different emotions you shouldn't be feeling. It's not possible that you really like him.

The right reaction is for you to curse him, feel mad about all he's done and hate him with all your being. But you're feeling hurt and you want to curse at him, obviously you're angry about what he's done, but you're worried about him too, maybe you were too harsh.

No.

You'll not let any feelings you have let him get away with manipulating you. If you really do like him you're just going to have to stop.

Hyunjin can't eat, can't sleep, can't study, in other words, he can't function properly. You don't speak to him, you don't look at him, you don't even aknowledge his existence.

You don't eat when he's in the great hall, you will sit in the fartest seat from him when you're in the same class and everytime he tries talking to you, your personal bodyguard, Seungmin, prevents him from doing it.

He can't live like this, Hyunjin feels like he's about to die at any moment and he just doesn't know what to do.

Felix is too nice to actually say it but he looks at Hyunjin with that 'I told you so' look and just watches again as his friend sits in his bed and spends minutes staring at nothing.

"Was it that bad?" He asks but he already knows the answer. The whole school is in uproar after you punched him in the middle of the corridor before classes started, so to say everyone knows about what happened it's an understatement.

"She's not even looking at me", Hyunjin says finally and Felix sighs, sitting by his side and patting his back.

"I think you should give her some time", Hyunjin scowls after hearing that, even though he knows his friend is probably right.

It hurts so much, even more than when you just ignored him. Because now that he felt your warmth, he can't live without it.

Since Seungmin met you, this is the first time he has to worry about you. Even when you pulled all-nighters studying or joined too many extracurricular activities, you always took care of yourself. This time though, you're not.

Your grades are back to normal and your projects are all ready a week before the deadline but at what cost? You are not sleeping properly, there are huge eyebags under your eyes and you lost weight, your hair is always a mess and your clothes are far from your usual tidy style. He knows you realized your feelings for Hyunjin and you're just trying to bury them without actually trying to understand them and he just doesn't know what to do to help you. Every time he tries talking about it, you'll brush it aside and tell him you're not in the mood for that.

The winter holidays come to you like a gift and a curse, you don't have lots of work to take care of so you can rest but you don't have lots of work to take care of so you don't have anything to distract yourself from your wandering thoughts, those ones that always end up on the same person.

You never thought it would be so hard to get over someone, in some way your brain probably knew that the moment you let someone walk past your walls it wouldn't be easy to undo the damage made. That's why you always run from Hyunjin, because it would be torturous to stay away from him after you let your feelings be known.

As the weeks go by, your anger subside a bit. You still can't forgive what he did but you miss him too much to still be mad. You were pretty confident in the first few weeks, concentrating all your energy in your classes and projects, trying to forget about him. However, the more time passed, the more you thought you actually liked him… way before the amortentia happened.

You two met each other in your first year, but you were children that didn't care about the opposite sex and it went like that till fifth year, when you two turned fifthteen and puberty just hit him like a truck over summer break. He came back taller, his voice changed a bit too and his facial expressions as a whole were sharper, more eye-catching than ever.

It wasn't different for Hyunjin, however you always caught his eye. When he was younger he thought you were cute for a girl and he has never been easy to impress. When you grew up you became so pretty he couldn't take his eyes out of you. That was the first time he ever asked someone out and the first time he was rejected, it really hurt his pride. And now, finishing your seventh year, it's the first time you're realizing that maybe he fell first but you fell harder.

The classes come back in the blink of an eye, you're not sure you're happy or sad about it since you don't know what to do with the whole Hyunjin situation.

It all gets worse when you see him in the corridor, he's looking around, fidgeting and you just know he's waiting for you.

You try walking past him, but he lifts his eyes as if he felt your presence and you see the corner of his mouth going downwards and his lips quivering.

"Can- can we talk?" He pleads, his voice shaking, it's too much for him to finally see you again, finally have you looking at him again.

You look down, trying to decide what to do and end up nodding, turning around and leading him to an empty classroom. He closes the door and watches as you wander around the class, brushing your fingers on the table's surface, avoiding looking at him.

"How are you?" He asks finally, after a few minutes of torturous, awkward silence.

"Just fine", you answer, looking at every piece of the room but not at him. You're afraid that if you look him in the eyes you're going to cave in and you just can't give in so easily.

"I'm having a really hard time", he tells you.

"Didn't ask", you stop in your tracks, annoyed with yourself because it hurts to be mean to him. "Let's get this over with", you manage to say, even though the ache in your chest is making it difficult to breathe.

He sighs, running his hands through his hair.

"I- I'm really sorry about what I did, y/n, can you please forgive me?" He begs and you finally turn around, trying to keep your cool, the anger is coming again and you feel your face hot.

"Are you asking me to forgive you for tampering with my feelings? Or for pulling this shit just because you're obsessed with something you can't have?"

He frowns, it's not like that, he knows that but clearly you don't.

"Y/N, I have wanted you all the same since the beginning. I can't have anyone else, not because I'm obsessed but because I'm in love with you", he takes a step towards you, "you make me feel alive, that's why I keep trying over and over again"

You're taken aback by the confession, so shocked you don't even notice how close he got to you in a few moments but you can't let him get away from this, not when your pride is involved.

"Do you think it's fair to make someone like you just because you like them? Would you ever have told me about what you did or would you keep me like a fucking toy until you were tired of playing with me?"

He stares at you for a moment, a desperate look on his face. He wasn't trying to hurt you. He was selfish, he knows that and you have the right to not want anything to do with him anymore, but he has to try earning you back.

"I know I shouldn't have gave you a love potion, I know it's wrong and I did know you wouldn't like having your feelings messed with", he takes one of your hands and puts it in his chest, right above his heart and for the first time since you found out about what he did, you don't want to pull your hand away from his touch. "I was going to tell you, I swear, I just wanted to make you really look at me and see it was worth giving me a chance", he smiles sadly, "you are right to hate me after what I did but if you do forgive me I swear that I'll make up for it every day of our lives and I'll make you happier than you ever thought could be possible. It's going to be my goal, my mission, the biggest of my ambitions"

You sigh, it hurts. Logically, you shouldn't forgive him. But love is not logical and you want to accept his proposal. You know it's dumb and you know it's risky but never in your life did you really make a choice that you wanted to. You had to be a good student so your teachers would like you, you had to behave so your family would be proud of you, you had to have good grades so your parents would be satisfied, because they told you you needed to have the greatest career and that became your dream, but you never stopped to think about what you really wanted.

"If you didn't use the potion, would you keep trying to win me over?" You whisper, trying to decide what answer to give him.

"Yes, probably forever. Until you threatened to kill me or married someone else", he smiles, "not going to assure you I wouldn't try stealing you from your partner, but that would hold me back a little", he chuckles.

You sigh, why must you like him so much?

"I swear I'll make you regret it if you ever use any magic on me again", you say through gritted teeth, glaring at him, "and I like the thing you said about making up for it our whole lives"

A big smile grows on his lips and you feel your cheeks getting hot, how can someone be this beautiful?

"Then, will you give me another chance?" He asks in a breath.

"I'll let you take me on a date and I'll decide after that"

He smiles widely, throwing his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.

"I'll make it be a yes", he whispers, squeezing you more in his embrace.

You know you'll forgive him completely soon, Hyunjin can't hide his emotions from you so you know he's telling the truth but you sure as hell are not going to make it easy for him.

[eepy-evie]

Twisted Wonderland Senior Headcanons

A/N: i am very tired as i write this, BIBI is saving my life force. I just got screamed at by my mom but the fans (no one) can’t wait 😎. Im sorry Lilia’s is kind of short, im pretty high and have been pushing this off for days.

Contents: Various non romantic headcanons for the seniors in TWST

Trigger warnings (if any): Religion mentions (Trey’s + Leona’s + Vil’s + Rook’s + Idia’s part), eating disorders (Vil’s part), stalking mentions (Rook’s part… no surprise), minor adult themes (idia’s part)

Trey Clover

I might have this feeling only because i also bake but he has beef with multiple people about bread.

Like i mean people spreading misinformation (NO YOU DO NOT NEED TO ADD SUGAR INTO BREAD, IT DOESN’T DO MUCH)

Besides my personal beef with ig bakers…

He doesn’t listen to music, lofi background stuff at best.

He’d listen to anything someone put on with no complaint but he doesn’t feel the need for music for mundane things

With his obsession with brushing teeth i feel like he loves mint

Like i mean spearmint gum constantly, mint chocolate chip ice cream, idk mint leaves in drinks?

Bro can not understand if someone else doesn’t like mint

I believe he is an Atheist living in a Christian household

Its probably brought up rarely but he just doesn’t really believe that saying grace before dinner does anything

I think he’s way too empathetic for his own good, i mean like excusing lots of harmful things due to how someone was raised

(Totally didn’t mean to refer to Riddle but whatevs)

Cater Diamond

Get this man into kpop NOW

I feel he is rivaling Idia with his, honestly abusive, amount of slang

I dont think anyone who isn’t chronically online could stand to hear his thoughts

Or who isn’t insanely mentally unstable

But he pulls shit like “she=onika ate=burgers” every single chance he gets

Which i wont blame him for that, i pull medieval slang every second i can too

He loves brittany broski with his whole heart and soul

Not only is she funny as hell but she can also be very serious in a blink of an eye

On the low he enjoys those insider videos

He likes watching them and pausing them to argue the point to no one

Going back to kpop briefly…

He loves Aespa

Do i know any of the members of Aespa to tell you my assumed bias? No.

Also loves Zerobaseone

Ricky bias

Although i may be biased (oh my a silly pun, you scoundrel)

I do believe that he is a funny person but he is very repressed

I dont mean to make this a whole angst post but he genuinely doesn’t understand how he can express it

He is very sensitive to rejection so i think that leads him to extreme lengths to be liked

And I’m not just talking about how he acts a certain way to please others

I mean a deep rooted guilt for not being what someone wanted

Leona Kingscholar

…all my headcanons for him are purely how I’d personally treat him

Someone get this man a mukbang video and a comfy bed

He barely listens to music but when he does its some rnb stuff

He doesnt care for stuff thats too loud but he does like soft music even if he isnt open about it

I need to make him see nekomimi switch, twitter.gov, and anything else that has catgirls/boys so i can see his reaction

I dont think he holds many physical attributes to lions besides the ears, tail, and teeth but he most definitely holds many reactions and other stuff

Like he is literally sleeping in a garden most the time

He has long(er) nails and hates cutting them

Erm… idk man

I think he had a big Religious breakdown in his childhood

I dont really know what Religion he’d be to start with(due to my lack of knowledge of Religion in Africa) but he’d have the whole moment of betrayal

And then he’s completely Atheist for the rest of his life

Vil Schoenheit

He has a side account where he responds to all his hate comments

For music taste… hear me out…

He likes, on the low, vkei

But no metal like kaneto juusei or gulu gulu I mean malice mizer

He enjoys the instrumental along with the twists they take on classical

Moi meme motie x Vil Schoenheit collab when???

He 100% doesn’t express it though, he tells the public he likes whatever’s popular

I feel like, this may or may not be me projecting, he’s a hellenist

Obviously worshipping Aphrodite and has an altar for her which he never publicly speaks of but is not hiding

heres a bit of TW for eds + that type of stuff

I feel like he has an extremely bad relationship with food

He doesnt see it as something to nourish your body but instead a sort of numbers game

Like with a limit of however much someone says and the whole game is to stay under that number in calories

Besides that i feel he’s very orthorexic to the point he’d refuse to eat something if it looked too “bad” to him

(End of tw)

I know he has a very argued gender identity but i dont think he’s too confused by it

He’s very firm that he is who he is and he never seemed to have much of an inside problem with it

Maybe he got poked fun at a few times but thats all his problems with it

Rook Hunt

Get this man away from me

He is in many fandoms and somehow knows everything going on all the time

Bro personally took down Nayeon’s stalker by himself

But seriously i dont think his intentions are bad, i think he is just trying to be on top of everything in the worst was possible

He doesn’t really think its creepy himself but most the time he is

He is also a Hellenist who worships Aphrodite but also Artemis

He is so very open about his Religion

He makes those hopecore videos on tiktok and has amassed 10k followers but no one knows its him

Yearns to be in the south/midwest for the scenery

Just yearns in general

Bro is single handedly bringing back male yearning and being chalant

Saw bridgerton as a normal tuesday for him

1000 hours on c.ai

I will not, and should not, elaborate.

Is that projecting? Yes. Do i care? No.

He has the longest and some how most effective body/skincare routine ever

I mean like he’d do some shit like “once in a blue moon bath in pure hyaluronic acid for 2.5 hours on the dot”

He loves absolutely everything on everyone and its to a detriment to me personally

Hooked nose? Loved. Chubby? Love. Literally anything unconventional? Consider yourself yearned for.

He listens to anything and everything

Although he cant stand songs about break ups or anything to do with hate

Put this man on “doughnut” by TWICE now.

Idia Shroud

Yes… give me this nerdy man…

He 100% (mostly canon) loves jpop idols

Prolly an akb48 stan

I cant even get started on everything he likes

But i can tell y’all 100% that he is not overly flirty or overly easy to fluster

Istg all i see is either big dom idia or uwu shy boy idia

And both are wrong (in my opinion ig)

He starts arguments about anything and everything in game chats

Because he’s grown up in this big company family he was forced to appear better that how he truly acts so i believe that would also entail with being a die hard hellenist

But without any spotlights he does care, he just likes his games and anime

Speaking of anime…

He loves shoujo, he’s in hiding though

He literally wants to be sawako from “from me to you” but will never say it

Somebody come get this man

If anyone asks he just loves Naruto and One Piece

But we know the truth…

Istg he plays an absurd amount of eroges for the plot

He’s depraved on twitter

Two accounts, one for public image and the other for the unspeakable

Do NOT let him find any dating advice on there cause he will take it and act like a fool

He loves breakcore music and anime intros and thats about it

Besides his jpop idols

I dont think he like kpop, for some reason he just has a grudge against some fans

A little self insert but he 100% has autism (as we all know…) but he also has arfid

For those who dont know… arfid is “avoidant restrictive food intake disorder” which is like you are a very picky eater

He aint struggling with it, he succeeding (LYING)

Malleus Draconia

Get this man a cat or some shit like that

Can someone please make him watch all of aphmau Minecraft diaries and then twilight back to back

This strange individual has that man from the notebook shaking in fear

Bros a hopeful romantic

Randomly says inspiration quotes that you cant find anywhere online

It just came from his heart

He only listens to classical songs he knows how to play

Though i’d doubt if you showed him something he’d dislike it

Bros the yearner

I showed up to the yearning contest and went into anaphylactic shock at the sight of him there

He has honestly researched every single religion for fun

Highlight god damn bible verses for no reason

He needs to make an iceberg of every single religion and why they are good/bad

I just know he has an insane knowledge of lore in any book he’s ever read

Please make him watch smiling friends

You’d have to pause every 5 seconds so he can process it

You could make him do anything tbh, just be like “you should come watch *whatever it is* with me” and bro is outside your door

For shame with the amazing attention towards practically anyone who shows anything besides fear or hatred comes the fact he is unaware of most modern things

He has a tamagotchi and thats it man, get him a 3ds at least

He cant use a phone, cant use a computer, and barely understands the concept of social media

But at least he has the spirit to learn

Lilia Vanrouge

Do i even put him as a senior?

Bro is pushing some mystical number that no one knows

He’s like one of those grandmas that never mention their age and whenever its brought up all they say is “never ask a woman her age”

… perchance a bit controversial but i think he’s bad at cooking on purpose

Ain’t no way someone fucks up cooking THAT bad

I think he really likes horror games

And i dont mean those shitty mascot horrors like poppys playtime

I mean fatal frame, faith, and visage type shit

He listens to breakcore too

I dont make the rules

Hes a gamer grandpa so he either has to have pretty good taste in games/music or the absolute worst

HE’D LOVE GULU GULU AND VKEI

Hes practically already mana sama

Hes got all the moi meme motie dresses

Get grandpa off taobao NOW

I want my nyanya madoka dress, and i will not be stopped by some twinkish old man.

[number1jeonginstan]

Ok, so sry to be bothering you... AGAIN😭Guess who's back with some more hard thoughts~?

But this has been on my mind all weekend

Lee Know asking if you wanted to hang out with him and the boy who r also bringin their girlfriends. He gives you the context of amusement park or arcade. You're like, I know the perfect outfit. It's a collared crop-top and a pleated skirt(idk what colors ill let you decide on that) The skirt just hugs your waist so nicely that it gets him hard. So he purposefully throws his glasses to the other side of the bed(It's against the wall), when you're not looking and asks so sweetly, "Hey, Baby? Can u get my glasses for me." And when you do what he asks he can see your cute little cotton panties and he can't help himself. He pushes you on the bed and devours you While he's fucking you, he's like, "Who were you dressing up for huh? Such a little slut with that tiny skirt. Trynna flirt with my friends?" He knows you would never but he's just too riled up

But, idk, just hard thoughts

-🥠

A/N: THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD REQUEST. I loved writing this, because Lee Know is definitely very protective, and seeing you in that short of a skirt would make him go feral…

WC: 1.9k

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: bf! Lee Know x afab!Reader

Warnings: Lee Know calling reader a slut, unprotected sex, one ass slap, spitting… 

It was finally the weekend and you were excited to relax and do nothing with Minho. You were upside down on your bed, scrolling through your phone when he barged into your shared room. 

“Babe!” he yelled, running towards you, Soonie following behind him, swishing his tail. “Yeah what’s up?” you replied, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. “Okay so, you know that new arcade that opened,” he said while sitting on the bed. 

Soonie followed suit, jumping and curling into a ball next to you. “Yeah?” you replied, unsure where he was going with this. “Well, the boys wanted to go with their girlfriends, and they invited us.”  

You just giggled along as he continued to explain. “Well, he rented out the place for us to play, so do you want to go?” He flopped onto the bed next to you, arms behind his head waiting for your response. 

“Yeah, how long do we have though, we can go get lunch beforehand.” You said, slowly getting up. “We have a couple hours, it’s only 11, and they were thinking around 5 so we can go out and watch a movie after.” 

“That works for me, let me go get ready.” You fully got up from the bed, giving Minho a kiss as you went to take a shower. 

Before you got into the bathroom he yelled at you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to join!” in a teasing voice. You stuck your head out of the bathroom sticking out your tongue to him and locking the door. 

You were only wrapped around in a towel as you got out of the shower, your body still a bit damp. You got out of the shower to meet Minho’s eyes tracing your body in the towel “Do you want to go in while the water is still hot?” you asked him. 

He put down his phone, rubbed Soonie’s chin, and walked up towards you. “You really should have taken my offer and showered with me,” he said, kissing your lips and heading to the bathroom. 

You just giggled, turning around and heading into your shared walk-in closet. You wanted to dress comfortably, but also cutely for the arcade. Thankfully, it wasn’t too cold, so you could get away with wearing just a skirt. You looked through your closet finding the new shirt you had just purchased, a mint-green collared shirt, and a pleated denim mini-skirt that worked perfectly with the shirt you chose. 

Minho was still in the shower as you began to do your makeup. Sitting at the vanity mirror in your shared bedroom, you were contemplating doing just light makeup because you guys weren’t going anywhere special. 

Minho had gotten out of the shower, towel still on his hips as you were applying your concealer. “What shirt should I wear?” he said from behind you, looking at you through the mirror. “I think a hoodie would look good, don’t you?” 

He just nodded, kissing your temple, not fully seeing the outfit you were wearing, too occupied thinking about his own. As he finished finding an outfit, he placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose, laying on the bed waiting for you. 

His back was towards the headboard, scrolling through bubble asking stays what he should eat for lunch as he finally looked up at you. You had gotten up to wet your beauty blender, what you vowed perfected your dewy makeup, which he always laughed up. His eyes roamed your body, taking in every inch. He had never seen that shirt before, or that skirt. 

The skirt hugged your torso perfectly, flaring out on your smooth thighs. The shirt on the other hand was his favorite color. He could see the outline of your bra, and he could feel himself getting hard.  You had been holding out on him, and he wanted you right there and then. He started thinking about what colored panties you were wearing under your skirt. How easy it would be to bend you over and see them. He put his plan into action. Before you came back, he threw his glasses to the other side of the room. You would be a good little girlfriend and receive it for him if he asked.

As you sat back down, he was trying to think of a way to get your attention. You had finally finished your look, applying mascara to your lashes, and you looked at him through the mirror. “Where did your glasses go?” you asked, taking note of the frames no longer being on his face. “I sneezed and now I don’t know where they are.”

“Do you want me to find them for you?” you asked, getting up from your chair and walking around in search of them. He just nodded, getting up as you bent over on the floor in hopes of finding them. They had ended up under the bed, as you bent over, trying to get them, Minho had rutted his crotch on top of yours, throat around your neck. 

He pulled you off the floor, putting your back directly against his chest, and whispered in your ear. “Who did you dress like such a slut for?” 

Before you could say anything, he threw you on the bed. You squealed in surprise, Minho was dominant, but he had never done anything like this before. “Fuck, look wearing white panties and acting all innocent while dressing like a slut.” 

“Do I need to remind you who you belong to?” Minho said, opening your mouth by pressing it together with his hands. “Take my spit like a good girl okay? Let me mark you.” 

You stuck out your tongue, waiting for him to put his fingers in your mouth, but instead, he spit into it. The string of saliva still being there as he told you to close your mouth. “Stop gaping at me like a fish, and swallow.” 

You just nodded, closing your mouth and swallowing his saliva. “Good kitten, now turn around I wanna see your pussy.” 

You did as he asked, turning around, your ass facing out as your face was slightly faced into the bed. He could already see a wet spot on your panties, “What a whore, already wet from me just spitting in your mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t even prep you?” 

You just whined at his words, begging for any sort of stimulation, and began humping the air slightly. “Fuck, can’t even wait for sir to make you feel good. Maybe I should just get off by myself?” 

“No please, will be good, will be good for you Sir.” you pleaded, you needed him. “Then be a good girl, and listen at once.” 

He smacked your ass, eliciting a moan from your lips. “Fuck, gonna eat this pussy like it’s my last meal.”

He kissed your thighs, slowly going up to your covered pussy, kissing the fabric. He slowly took the fabric off of you, letting out a sigh of contentment when he saw how wet you were for him. “Sir please” you moaned, feeling the cool air coming in contact with your bare cunt. 

“Shut up or else” he groaned into your cunt, wanting to enjoy the moment. You quickly became quiet, covering your mouth with your hand as he began to lick a stripe in between your folds. He flipped you around, wanting to be face-to-face with your cunt. 

You began to try and take off your skirt, but he slapped your hand away. “Wanna fuck you while you are wearing this skirt. Want to make you cum in this so it reminds you of who owns you whenever you wear it.” 

You just nod your head, placing your hands on your face as he begins to suck on your clit. Licking it and sucking on it as he began to slip one of his veiny fingers into your cunt. “Fuck baby, taste so good, only for me right?” 

You moaned as he began to thrust his finger inside of you, still sucking on your clit. “Take off your shirt and your bra, I want you to play with your tits.” 

You did as he asked as he still ate you out, barely able to comprehend anything as you felt the fabric of your bra shifting off your nipples. He looked up from your cunt, your juices splayed against his chin as he leaned in to kiss you. 

You could taste yourself on him, moaning as one of his fingers came to pinch your nipple. “Be a good girl and play with them for me okay?” He said kissing your lips another time. You nodded, bringing your fingers to them, as he began to take off his shirt. You could feel his cock rub against your thigh as he was doing so. 

It was getting to be a bit much, you were soaked and you needed him inside of you. You pawed at his pants, trying to get them off faster. “Fuck baby, that’s why you wore this skirt, because you want my cock that bad?” 

You nodded, “Can I please have your cock sir?” you begged. He obliged, reaching over to get a condom, but you stopped him. “Want you in me raw today” and he groaned out loud. “Fuck baby, want to wake around with my cum? Want everyone to know you belong to me?” 

You nodded, “want everyone to know that I’m your Sir.” 

“So my baby isn’t a slut for my friends, she’s just a slut for my cock,” he said, kissing your lips again. 

He began aligning his cock with your cunt, slapping your clit a few times with his tip, trying to get you to squirm underneath him. “Please sir, I need it” you moaned, wrapping your legs around him trying to get him to put it in already.

He finally obliged, slowly putting his cock into you, inch by inch. “Fuck kitten, you are so tight, I need to fuck this cunt more often then? Get you nice and stretched out for me so I can use you anytime.” 

“Yes sir, please fuck me anytime, where ever you want, will be good for you.” 

He fucked into you like a madman as soon as you said that, his cock disappearing under your skirt and into your tight pussy was all he needed. “Fuck baby, this cunt is squeezing me so tight.” 

He could feel your cunt squeeze around him, fluttering, so he brought down his hand rubbing your clit as he sped up his place a bit. “Are you close kitten?” 

“Yes sir, need your cum, please need it in me.” Your pussy was convulsing around him and you could feel yourself reaching your peak, especially because he was hitting the spongey spot inside you. “Fuck kitten, cum for sir, cum on my cock.” 

That was all you needed to cum around him, moaning his name over and over again. That was all Minho needed to cum inside you. 

He slowly pulled out, watching your pussy dribble out the mixture of both your cum onto your skirt, ruining it. 

“Fuck baby, sorry if that was too much,” he said, trying to fix your hair a bit. You just giggled, falling back into his arms. “At least this time we won’t be too late” you giggled into his ear. He just laughed, you still in his arms, 

[chatterbox-73]

.Sugar Daddy.

.Birthday bunny.

Izuku Midoriya x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story, I’ll more characters x reader one shots in the future and if you want to see a character please let me know.

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/N: happy birthday Izuku🎉 also this one shot isn’t edited.

Summary/inspiration/prompt: what would Japan’s number one hero spend his birthday on…? Of course, he’d spend it with the top hostess in Japan with all his friends.

Word count: 3k

CW: NSFW and adult content, aged up characters, mention of contraceptive, illegal prostitution, anal play, pet name (bunny), bunny ears and tail, humiliation, voyeurism, oral (m&f!receiving), breast play, sex toy/butt plug, Bi Midoriya and drinking alcohol.

You stood in a line before a table of Japan’s top heroes, the men laughing and drank, cheering for their friend; who you had been informed was celebrating his birthday. The man in question was your nations number 1 hero and had defended the evil villain ‘All for one’ and his protégée ‘Tomura Shigaraki’, his name ‘Deku’.

“I have all the girls you requested, please take your pick…” the owner of the company said with a smile, your eyes shifting to either side of you, all the girls in the line shared no similarities; some were tall while others were short, some were plump and fuller while others were lean and bony, some had large breasts and bottoms while others were less well endowed, however you quickly realised what you and the other women had in common, you were the high ranking hostesses who were also unofficial prostitutes.

You did your best at hiding your amusement, it was ironic all these heroes, noble and just, and oh so willing to use illegal prostitutes. “Mr. Deku, do any of the girls catch your attention?” Asked the own and the green haired hero nodded, before pointing to you, “that one… she’ll do” Deku spoke smoothly, you boss nodded with a smile, “have her take the present we brought with us” spoke a blonde sitting next to Deku, he grinned and nudged his friend.

You stepped into the room just across from the room with all the heroes, now they all sat with the other women you’d been lined up with. You walked over to the table were a package sat, you opened the box and examined the contents, there was a navy green lingerie set lined with black lace, matching stockings, black red bottom heels… you examined the bra and measured it too your chest, a surprising fit. You looked at the underwear, if you could call them that, it was more like a small triangle held together by strings and a few dainty chains. However looking back in the box something mint green and fluffy caught your attention, grabbing it out, it was a pair of bunny ears. You then looked back in the box in search of the tail and to your shock found it.

“It’d probably be too late to back out” you sighed as to grabbed the small package and opened it, pulling out a rather large plug with a mint green bunny tail on the end of it, you had admittedly done many weird things and probably worse then this, however you’d never felt so nervous.

You stiffened your lip and began to get cleaned up and dressed, you’d eventually got to the point where you’d have to put in the plug, you twisted the thing in your hand and noted it was bigger then most of the men you’d entertained but you pervaded, squeezed a large amount of lubricant on it before you lifted your leg into a chair and began to push it in, there was a brief discomfort before your body relaxed and the metal of the plug warmed. You hummed as the fluff of the tail met your skin and the plug filled you.

Standing before the mirror you twisted and turned getting a good look at yourself, you ran your fingers over the tops of your breasts and down your front; you looked good, you most certainly wouldn’t deny that, you turned before wiggling your butt and the tail jingled, you chuckled before being pulled from your thoughts as there was a knock at the door, “almost done, our patrons are growing tired of waiting” called your boss through the door, “oh yes, I’m ready” you called back and the man entered the room, he stared at you for a moment before grinning and passing you a robe.

“You look wonderful” he helped you with your robe before straightening your bunny ears, “wonderful enough for you to take me out?” You smirked and your boss shook his head, “I’m more of a cat person” he replied nonchalantly and untucked your hair from the robe. Your boss guided you back to the room with all the heroes, he had a cake that he passed to you and explained you were going to disrobe, sing ‘happy birthday’ and then take Deku into the connected room were you’d do as he asked. Your boss opened the door and stepped in, the room was filled with laughter and singing, “oi that girl ready yet?” Asked what sounded like the blonde from earlier, “yes she’s ready” he signalled for you to enter.

Stepping into the room you noticed the other hostess had stripped down to their underwear or less, some had simply unzipped their dresses and slipped the top of the dress down to their hips, before taking off their bra, while other completely removed their dresses, and one even sat on your clients lap naked, you walked around the table and placed the cake down in front on Deku and smiled, “you there, get the lights” you faked a smile and the girl got up and moved, as you began to light the candles on the cake, before looking to the hero “Mr number one, may I ask your help with my robe” you grabbed his hand and brought it to the tie, he pulled it and watched as the robe fell down your body and pool at your feet, one of your other coworkers quickly grabbed the robe and took it over too the manager and stood beside him and the other coworker you had told to get the lights.

The room dimmed and you began to sing, you pulled Deku’s hand around you and rested one of your own on his shoulder, once you finished singing you lent down and spoke, “blow out your candles Mr Deku and make a wish… try to get all of them or you’ll get a punishment” before you whispered, “but even if you don’t get all your candles in one go, I’ll still grant all your wishes” you chuckle and licked his ears before standing up, the man got all but one candle, everyone cheered as the lights came back on. You lent over again and blow out the last candle before pulling them out of the cake, you wiggles your butt as you did so, the small jingle suddenly sounded so loud and it drew the attention of several of the man, some looked surprised and shocked not fully believing any of the hostess would have worn it, the blonde who you believed was behind organising this event sat on the other side of you had handed Deku a small metallic thing and gave your butt a good squeeze before focusing back on the topless woman on his lap, bringing his hands back to her very large breasts.

You scooped some icing on your finger and stood up straight, before wiping it on Deku’s lips and cheek, “I told you, I’d have to punish you if you left any candles lit” you giggled and licked your finger clean, the man smiled and looked at you before clicking something in his hand, before you knew it your knees slightly buckled and you grabbed tightly onto his shoulder and as strong vibrations radiated through your rectum, the bell jingled violently signalling to the others at the table the cause for your sudden reaction. “What’s the matter bunny?” Deku spoke his first words since choosing you, you shook your head and straightened up, “uhh… nothing… Mmm just fine” you moaned with a smile and grabbed both of his hands, “would you like to go now?” You asked however the man shook his head, “I’d like to have some cake first” he hummed and you looked over to your boss who nodded before quickly leaving the room.

You served the hero a slice of cake, however before he began eating he instructed you to wipe off his face, however this was no easy task as he had turned the vibrations on and off vigorously, you were then told to stand and wait for him, which again would have been easy enough however Deku had decided to turn the vibrations up so high the tail looked as though it began to wiggle, you moaned loudly as you felt the vibrations in your cunt as well as deep in your tight rectum, your legs shook but you managed to stay standing.

Some of the man laughing while others palmed themselves as you whine and whimpered, however your client remanded stoned face and after glancing at his crotch… flaccid. The blonde next to you however was both laughing at you and had already moved the woman previously on his lap to under the table where she was serving him… and yet your client remained unbothered by it all and simply ate his cake, “would you like cream, Mr Deku?” You asked and picked up the bowl with whipped cream, the man nodded and sat back watching you, however instead of dolloping cream onto the cake, you dolloped it onto your breasts, “oopsie, it seems I don’t have much control over my hands, can you help me?” You asked and the man replied by pushing his chair out and grabbing your waist in a firm grip, his eyes met your and instantly of the response your thought you’d get… something like a small blush and a laugh; you got something completely different. Deku gave to a narrowed eye looked that said ‘really?’, he looked at you like you were some annoying idiot, however he leant down and began to lick from your bellybutton where the cream dripped down to, before licking up slowly, the room filled with cheers and you felt a shiver as you watched his harsh and narrow eyes, he then licked over the tops of your breasts before he then pulled the straps of your bra off the shoulders, exposing your breasts to everyone, Deku’s large hot tongue gliding over one of your breast and you bite your cherry red lips before he licked over your other breast and took the entire boob into his mouth, you moaned and your eyes rolled back as he began suckling on your nipple, the room roar with cheers and you looked back at the man as he sucked and flicked his tongue over your nipple, while his hands held you tightly in place, his eyes closed and you found yourself glanced over to the remote for the butt plug, without a second thought you reached for it, however Deku caught your wrist and pulled it behind your back, all while still he suckled your nipple with his eyes closed, you gasped as he bit your nipple and grabbed the remote, flicking the switch up all the way.

Your body shook and legs buckled completely however you were being held up by Deku, you squealed and cried out loudly as tears formed in your eyes and liquid dripped down your shaking legs, your face and shoulders were bright red from the embarrassment… you were humiliated, having all these men laughing at you and the man who your supposed to be entertaining, is nowhere near interested in you, it was clear he’d rather eat cake and make a fool of you than have sex or even talk with you. Suddenly Deku stood, holding you up with one arm before leaving the table and walking over to the door that led to the private room, once entering and closing the door the room was completely silent, blocking out all the sound from the outside.

With a click the door was locked and the man took you over to the set of chairs and sat you in one before sitting in the other, he turned off the vibrator and placed the remote on the small table that was set between the chairs, Deku then grabbed the two wine glasses and the bottle of wine before popping it and filling the glasses, he passed you a glass and took his own, swirled the wine around the glass before smelling it, you watched as he drunk the wine. “Thank you for the drink Mr Deku” you weakly smiled, “it’s Midoriya…” he spoke and you nodded, “right, of course… thank you Mr Midoriya…” you straightened up as best you can, “I apologise if I’m not what you wanted… but just tell me and I can help in anyway you need me too” you bowed and the man chuckled, “that’s very sweet bunny, but you see I didn’t expect this was how I’d be spending my birthday…” he took another sip and continued on, “I honestly thought I’d be spending the night watching movies with my husband” he sighed and you gasped, “oh I’m so sorry, I can get one of the male hosts or I can just get dressed and we’ll only talk” you covered your chest with your arm however Midoriya only throw his head back in laughter, “oh no it’s fine, my husband and I are both very open, he’s blonde out there currently having his dick sucked…” he place his glass on the table “and we swing both ways… Its common for us to bring a man or woman into bed with us as we both don’t always like bottoming” he said and you sigh, “so what can I do for you?” You asked and he signalled for you to get in front of him, moving to stand between his legs he pulled you to kneel, “suck me” he demanded and you began to undo his pants.

You pulled out his large yet flaccid cock and softly kitten licked it, you wondered if he had been enjoying himself or if he was just lying to save your feelings, you began to lightly suckle on his tip and before long his cock stood tall and proud; it was huge, you weren’t surprised that his husband didn’t want to bottom every often. You pumped him and sucked and licked his balls, Midoriya hummed and patted your head, “sweet little bunny…” he sighed and undid his tie and the buttons on his shirt, you pulled his tip back into your mouth and tried to take him deep, gagging as you got less then half way, “too much for the little bunny, stand for me” he instructed and you did so without hesitation. Midoriya moved to take off your bar and slide down your pantie slipping them in his pocket, “turn and bend over” he sat back and moved, you felt his thumb spread your folds before the lightest amount of vibration came from the plug, you moaned placed your hands on your knees. Midoriya chuckled “tell me how often do men fuck you?” He questioned “I have sex about once or twist a day” you answered honestly, “I see and how much money does that bring in?” Midoriya asked as he reached for the plug and began to slowly pump it in and out, “just enough for me to live comfortably” you continued to answer honestly, the man humming and pulled the plug out completely and placed it on the table, “do you have experience with service to men at the same time?” He stood and pulled you to turn, you looked up at him and nodded, “yes Mr Midoriya, I do” you felt the man pulling you towards the bed, “very good… finally contraception… you use condoms but would you be willing to use the pill or an IUD?” He asked as he guided you to lie down, he slipped on a condom and pumped himself a few times, you watched him confuse but answered anyways, “I’m alright on the pill, condoms are so I don’t get sick” you smiled awkwardly and the man chuckled, “I see, thank you for answering honestly with me” he said as he moved your ankles to his shoulders.

Midoriya slipped inside you ever so slowly and gave you no time to adjust as he took long strong thrust, he held your waist and groaned his he intensely watched his cock slip in and out of you, he eyes flickered to your breasts which bounced with each thrust, “your so fucking beautiful, bunny” he hummed and sped up his pace. You however were in heaven, it had been so long since you had been filled this good, Midoriya’s cock pressed ever spot and his words had an unimaginable effect on you, after being humiliated by him, to have him call you beautiful had you clenched him so tight he thought his cock would snap right off. Midoriya laughed and placed a hand on your throat, he didn’t place any weight on it or tighten his hand, he simply just left it the and fucked you faster, “I’m gonna fucking cum… get up bunny” he demanded and pulled out of you before pulling the condom off, you whined and knelt on the bed, suddenly his hand grabbed a fist full of hair and pumping his cock, you leaned forward and suckled on his tip again before feeling his hot load seep onto your tongue, he throw his head back and moaned before pushing off him and onto your back.

Shock filled you as he climbed onto the bed and grabbed your legs pulling you towards him, and his without warning his face disappeared in between your legs, he groaned as he sucked and licked your folders. “It’s been awhile since I can ate a cunt so bear with me” Midoriya chuckled and continued to devour your cunt, that’s how you spent the next hour or so, his tongue and fingers take turned being inside you or playing with your clit.

You were shaken awake by your boss, “come on, up you get” he sighed as he helped you sit up and pass you a thick envelope, confused you opened it and noticed it was full of cash and a letter, pulling out the letter and reading it; you were thanked for your excellent service and… offered a job to work fill time for Midoriya and his husband.

You hadn’t the slightest idea in what they saw in you but you were certain the pay would be better than anything you were currently receiving. You’d swallow any pride to simply have to fuck two very attractive men and get a large wad of cash after every service, it was an opportunity of the lifetime, you really didn’t need to think it over at all.

More from ‘Sugar Daddy’ series:

Masterlist (coming soon)

Next - Satoru Gojo: ‘Not’ only you.

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | shinsou

Shinsou’s route of soulmate trope.

this one is for the touch-starved girlies who are scared of intimacy and scared of people leaving warnings: female reader has a very specific view of sex and intimacy: that someone sleeping with her and then leaving her would fucking ruin her psyche forever. so she's a big-ass, kissless virgin for nasty evil plot reasons. sexual intimacy and abandonment/commitment are major themes. pseudo-sex work, with shinsou's hobby/side-job. shinsou and reader toss around the term bitch as a playful insult. this version of reader is fairly insecure and anxious about being loved and lovable—but so is shinsou.

~29k

Kirishima had his tongue in Mina’s mouth.

Well, more accurately, sometimes it was in her mouth. He was visibly licking at her lips and around her mouth fairly often, letting saliva drool down both of their faces—Mina’s shirt had a damp spot near the neck. Their kissing skills seemed sloppy at best and fucking disgusting at average, making loud squelches, splorches, and suction noises, overall sounding very wet and a bit like walking through ankle-deep, thick mud in rubber rainboots. Their moans, too, didn’t sound very sensual—more like there’s someone in the next room sampling someone haunted museum sound effects with some overlapping Yoko Ono texture.

Kirishima’s hands cupped Mina’s boobs, his fingers stiff and just, like, holding them. Not playing with her nipples through her shirt, or anything, but the way he occasionally squeezed them must have felt good, since Mina moaned more loudly when he did so. He’d moan the loudest when she pulled at his hair, knocking the back of his head against the refrigerator door.

You ducked back around the kitchen corner, grimacing as you sank to the floor to clutch your knees to your chest. This wasn’t the first time they were blocking the fridge, but you’d learnt there was nothing to do but kill time until they finished. Stealing some of Aoyama’s posh bubble-pop ice cream would have to wait.

***

“No, thank you,” you said to Monoma over your shoulder, pushing open the main door to Class A’s dorm, “You taught me stuff about my quirk today. I really value your fresh eyes on my old shit. Next time we train together, I’d like—Jesus fucking Christ.”

Yaoyorozu and Jirou were dry humping on the commons couch, with Yaoyorozu in Jirou’s lap with her hands in Jirou’s hair, tilting her head back enough to lick up her neck, right over the spot where her half of the soulmate tattoo lay.

Grimacing (you heard it in his voice and by his sucking in through his teeth; you’d covered your eyes and shied away), Monoma stooped to pick up Yaoyorozu’s shirt to slingshot it back towards them. “Get a room.”

***

All you’d wanted was to find the closet where they keep the lightbulbs.

Instead, you opened the door on Midoriya kneeling, Uraraka’s leg over his shoulder, audibly slurping, while she, skirt hiked up around her waist, ground against his face.

You shut the door again. Your dorm could stand being dark for a few more hours.

***

“I’m going to kill myself. I’m going to peel off my skin. No, actually, I’m going to eject my skellington from my body so that I can just be a lump of organs and skin. And then I can rest on the carpet in a pile,” you said, frowning into your ice cream, cheek propped on your fist, “Why can’t they all, like, give some sort of warning?”

“Not everyone carries a sock to put over every doorknob,” said a grinning Shinsou from across the table, licking around the side of his mint chocolate chip cone, “And c’mon, the U.A. dorm rooms are not sexy, and the walls are thin.”

Some sprinkles fell off of your ice cream when you gestured loosely. “Don’t I know it. I share a wall with Hagakure, and she and Ojiro are fucking constantly. He makes her get off on his tail a lot—I guess kind of like thigh riding?”

“You can’t do anything about it when they’re fucking in the privacy of their own dorms.” Shinsou bit directly into his ice cream and chewed, like a maniac.

“And apparently, she really like when he tickles her clit with the tip of his tail? I am burdened with knowledge,” you said, sighing, and you ate a mournful spoonful.

Shinsou swallowed thickly. “Does it lessen your opinion of them?”

“No. I’m glad they’re happy,” you said, “I’ve listened to their yearning over the years, so I know it’s such a relief for them for this quirk intervention to get feelings out, along with the assurance of permanent romance and stability. Hashtag get some, I guess. I’m just—the influx of soulmates and their PDA is highly inconvenient for navigating my everyday life.”

“You sound like you’ve put thought into it.” Shinsou smirked, tongue flattening as he licked over the top of his scoop (and turning slightly green). “Just inconvenient?”

You shot him a look and fished around in your paper cup for more sprinkles. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are you sure you’re not jealous?” asked Shinsou, the shop’s A/C kicking in and blowing through his hair—he pursed his lips and scooted his metal chair out of the way of the vent. “Since, y’know, you don’t appear to have a soulmate. You ready to tell me yet? Why’re you so nervous?”

Yikes. You’d been avoiding that.

“Are you not marked physically? Or do you have one on your boobs—”

You sighed overdramatically and sank down in your chair until your ass practically hung off of it. “I have a soulmark, and it’s not in an embarrassing place. Relatively normal, actually. It’s on my back, so it took me a while to notice it.”

Shinsou bit into the cone and crunched loudly. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“You’re not seeing it. No one’s ever gonna see it.”

“No one? You’re confident. You think your soulmate won’t ever want to take you from behind?” His tongue flicked out to swipe at a melted drop on his lips.

“Oh, my God.” You buried your face in your hands. “God, the thought of someone I don’t even know having sex with me—I don’t wanna think about it. But that’s not what I meant. I was being facetious; I meant that my words are pretty embarrassing.”

Shinsou slumped down in his seat at that, but nowhere near as far as you. “Oh? First words?”

“I assume. It’s a sentence, anyway.” You sat up, stabbing your spoon into your ice cream. “I—I’ll tell you, since I don’t want anyone—seeing me, and I know you’ll bug me about it, but it’s—”

“Just spit it out. Rip off the bandage.”

Cringing, you held up your hands in defence. “Don’t kill me, but I also don’t remember who said them to me?”

“Oh, you’re joking,” said Shinsou, his face lighting the fuck up, “That’s fucking hilarious, if it’s true. And how do you know they’ve already been said to you? How do you know they aren’t still to come?”

“I don’t know. I just…feel it in my heart of hearts that I have already heard these words, but I can’t for the life of me remember who said them,” you said, and you bent to riffle through your bag for your phone, “I keep a list of everyone who’s not paired off in my notes app, and I’m trying to remember the situations in which I first met them—”

“You’re stalling,” said Shinsou, grinning as he popped the last of the cone into his mouth, “Tell me what it says.”

Wincing, you set your bag aside. “Don’t make fun of me,” you said, biting your lip and scrunching your eyes shut, “but, uh. It reads, Looks like the ice princess finally decided to grace us with her presence.” At his silence, you cracked an eye open.

Shinsou’s eyes had glazed over, but he shook himself and spoke. “Don’t know why you’re embarrassed. That’s fucking hot.” He grabbed your used napkins to toss them in the garbage. “Think it’s an enemies-to-lovers type relationship? Just kidding,” he said at your pained expression, “But I see what you mean about those already being said to you. Weren’t you seen as sort of a cold, uptight bitch when we first started attending U.A.?”

“An easy misinterpretation,” you said, scraping at the bottom of your cup, “People thought my being shy and not talking to people was being a bitch, but I was just nervous that I was around so many people my age who seemed so much more in tune with their quirks that I was.”

“So, that gives you a time frame for when you met your soulmate. And,” he said, holding up a finger, “that lets you know that you met your soulmate in a group with other people, unless they speak in the royal we for some reason. It also sounds like you were late to a scheduled event. You remember doing anything like that freshman year?”

“Look, all I remember about the first three months of freshman year is being overwhelmed by how cool everyone was. That time is a blur to me, and before now, I’ve been grateful for that. Aizawa-sensei really put us through the wringer. I was meeting literally everyone I currently hang out with during that time, though, so that’s not helpful.” You gave your empty container to Shinsou when he held out his hand, and he threw it away for you. “How’s your search going? You gonna share your details?”

“I’ve got a name,” he said, cool as you please, chair clanking as he sat back down, “but I’m not sharing. It’s not yours, if you’re concerned.” His nose scrunched as he grinned, poking your arm. “It’s someone out of reach, and I’ve come to terms with that. I’m doing pretty well on my own. You ready to leave?”

Nodding, you slung your bag over your arm. “I envy you. You’re brave. Me—I’m dreading the thought of the pain we’ll feel if we don’t find our soulmates. Shouldn’t we be feeling it already?”

Shinsou held the shop door open for you. “It hasn’t been that long, and when it happens, I’ll manage. I’ll be more worried about you, you crybaby.”

“If it gets too excruciating, I’ll just have you brainwash me to not feel it, right?” you stuck out your tongue, walking backwards as he caught up to you.

His countenance darkened. “Stop that. You know I’m never gonna use my quirk on you. I don’t wanna do that to you.”

“But Hitoshi,” you said, dragging out the last syllable, “Imagine how productive I could be if you made me study, or how fucking relaxed I could be for once, if you told me to; my brain could be fucking calm for once—”

“Never. And that’s final,” said Shinsou, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets as he jogged to your side, “You keep trying to convince me, and y’know, the definition of insanity is—”

“Fudge off, you fuck,” you said, smiling, “I guess I can keep trying to empty my brain on my own. Gosh, it must be nice to be able to not freak out and overanalyse things constantly, and you’d think you’d want someone willing to train your quirk on. I mean, I’m here, and I want it.”

“Keep dreaming,” said Shinsou, gently shoulder-checking you, “So, got any ideas about how to get Hagakure and Ojiro to shut up?”

***

Since Midnight was working with Tainted Love at a women’s rehabilitation centre, she was able to confiscate some of Tainted Love’s team’s notes on her quirk. It had a lot to do with math and probability, but the nub and gist of what interested you was that while soulmates typically breathed in the same pink cloud, they didn’t have to.

Which brought a new factor to your soulmate search: maybe it was someone outside of U.A., someone who breathed in her quirk before she was captured.

But while you were at first reassured by more information, you were also now perpetually on edge. Though all of her victims had reported, what if someone didn’t even know they breathed it in? Plus, your request for the list of victims was still being processed and supposed to have around four thousand people on it, and you might not even get it due to privacy laws.

At least someone was finding all this funny: Shinsou laughed but listened to your frazzled thoughts, and he opened his dorm room to you whenever Hagakure’s moans became too pornographic.

***

Everybody’s fucking. Everybody.

Everywhere you went, you walked in on someone sucking face. You couldn’t drop a pen in class without noticing that someone’s getting fingered.

You bounced a tennis ball against Shinsou’s dorm room ceiling. “Why is everyone focused on the physical? Why isn’t anyone into the goddamn romance and intimacy of it all? If you’ve been fated to know and love someone for the rest of your life, living out the mundanities and revelling in the unfolding of a relationship, then why the hell is everyone focused on physical pleasure?”

Shinsou didn’t even look up from his phone. “Spoken like the world’s biggest virgin.”

“Hey!” The ball fell onto the floor. “So what. Just because I haven’t experienced that sort of thing doesn’t mean I can’t understand its value but still want something more.” You slinked your top half off his bed to grasp for the tennis ball, fingertips grazing it, not wanting to get up. “I get the appeal of sex. I get it. But I would be more interested in the intimacy of knowing someone and being known.”

Shinsou waved a dismissive hand. “I know. Zoom in on our friendship.” He locked his phone and set it on his bedside table. “But for someone who says she doesn’t want sex, you’re one touch-starved little bitch. You’re doing it to yourself, not letting anyone touch you casually. I hazard to guess you’re putting too much value on the physicality of a future relationship that might not even exist.”

Only your feet were still on the bed as you strained to catch the rolling ball. “I touch you.”

“You put your head on my shoulder. Sometimes,” he said, getting off the bed, “and you occasionally let me touch your arms for comedic effect and emphasis.” He picked up the tennis ball and took it back to the bed, and you scrambled back to get all the way on it.

“Listen, I don’t know where everyone’s been,” you said, taking the ball back after he tossed it against the ceiling himself once, “Especially now that everyone might have bodily fluids on their hands. You, I know you wash your hands. I know where you’ve been. You train with Aizawa-sensei and come back to this room. You should get a plant, or something, to keep you company. It might encourage you to raise the blinds for once.”

“Excuse you. I also spend time with a cat Kouda’s hooked up for me,” he said pointedly, “Her name’s Dango, and she loves me. You could say I’m drowning in pussy.”

“I could not say,” you said, rubbing the ball’s highlighter-yellow fuzz as you lay back in his bed, legs dangling off the edge, “Big sigh. I guess you’re right about my putting too much stock in being physical with my soulmate, instead of with someone now. I think—I don’t wanna be vulnerable in that way in front of someone who might leave? If someone saw me naked and then ghosted me, I think I’d strangle myself. Or him. There’d be someone walking around with that information on me, and he could tell anyone. I can’t have that. He’d have to die.”

“Well, you’ve already seen a bunch of our friends naked on accident—”

“Not up close. Besides, it wasn’t my goal to see them like that, and I wasn’t absorbing details. I can’t tell you who’s got moles in weird places.”

Shinsou hunched over, grinning toothily in your face. “You’re waiting to lose your virginity to your soulmate, aren’t you?”

Pouting, you flipped over to face away from him. “Shut uuuuup. I know I’m embarrassing, but I can’t talk myself out of it.”

“Wait, hey.” The bedding rustled as he got adjusted himself, getting closer to you. “If I’ve gone too far, I’m sorry. There is no fucking shame in waiting. It’s in character for you, how you’re scared about vulnerability and how you value being intimate and romantic. I can’t make fun of you for that, genuinely.” He sat next to you, back against the wall, and he nudged your shoulder. “I’m a bit lost, though. I get the part where you’re a virgin overwhelmed by the sudden sexual atmosphere at U.A., but I fail to see the problem when you’re planning to lose your virginity to your soulmate, and odds are, you’ll meet him soon.” He paused. “Or you’ve already met him.”

Glancing over your shoulder with a sour expression, you grabbed the blue-pineappled throw blanket folded at the end of his bed and hid under it.

Instead of yanking it off, Shinsou lifted the blanket’s edge to join you underneath it, his pale skin tinged with blue in the dampened light. “C’mon,” he said, leaning over you to get a look at your face (and you tugged at the blanket to cover you more), “I’ve heard you say worse. If you don’t wanna share, that’s cool, but I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s going through your head.”

Shinsou tilted his head to the side and grinned his stupid crooked grin that you were not immune to: it’s one of his expressions that made you feel at ease, like you could trust this idiot man with anything. (Which you could, but you didn’t like being reminded.)

Forcing yourself, you spoke in a small voice. “What if my soulmate wants sex immediately? I’m—I’m not ready for that. I’d have to work up to it, and what if he doesn’t have the patience?”

Shinsou laughed and brought his hand up to cover his mouth when he let out a snort. “Sounds like a shitty soulmate to me, then, if he doesn’t respect your boundaries. Any man can wait it out. We’ve don’t have two hands for nothing,” he said, wiggling his fingers.

“Thanks, I guess.” You pulled the blanket off of your heads and sat up slowly. “But I worry. What if I’m too much of a sick, touch-starved weirdo who freaks out over every single touch for my soulmate to like me?”

“Your soulmate will love you.”

“But what if he gets irritated at how much I freak out or flinch at everything?”

“You’re overthinking it. He’ll adjust, and you’ll learn, if that’s what you want.” Shinsou picked up the tennis ball and threw it against the ceiling again. “If he doesn’t, then he doesn’t deserve you, and I’ll destroy him.”

“Okay,” you said, deflating. You moved to rest your head on his shoulder, but the instant your temple grazed his sweater, you shot back up, eyes bulging. “What if he wants me to give him the most egregious head when I’m not—”

“All right. Fine,” he said, brow furrowed, and he shifted on the bed to kneel in front of you, staring right into your eyes. “Let’s entertain your fucking insane thoughts. Let’s say your soulmate does want to fuck you immediately. What do you want to do now about it? Can you do anything besides worry?”

You shrank back, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know. I don’t know! I guess…somehow get…used to casual touching, but once again, 1) what if my tester person leaves, and 1a) it would be mean to ask someone to not feel things for me and touch me, and 2) I don’t want to burden anyone with—”

“Fuck.” The way he said it was crisp and full of reluctance, punctuated by the tennis ball hitting the ceiling. “Okay. I’ve kept something from you. Something pretty big. I can use it to help you.”

You blinked. “Are you saying you have a dildo to lend me? I think I have to refuse.”

“I haven’t been going on dates.” Shinsou shuffled about to lean back on his pillow, crossing his arms behind his head (huh, that Sailor Mercury t-shirt was really tight around his bicep. Has it always been?). “You’ve seen me go out to teach people how to dom.”

“What?” You caught the tennis ball when he threw it at an odd angle. “You’ve been—who’s asked you to—”

“A fair amount of people, actually.” He sucked in through his teeth. “Won’t tell you details, of course, because part of the payment and contract includes a non-disclosure agreement. But people you know have wanted to learn how to dom or just experience being dommed, and I happen to be the perfect person to ask.” He shrugged and gestured loosely. “All I’ll say is that some people—people you know and don’t—have come to me for help with stuff like shibari and dirty talk. Or how to do anything, really, because of, quotation from client, ‘being a useless lesbian,’ unquote.”

So that’s how he can afford all those video games and imported books. Sneak. “You’re telling me—”

“That I can help you get used to physical intimacy, professionally,” said Shinsou, propping one leg over the other, twirling his socked foot in the air, “However far you want to go. However you want.”

(So those jokes about perfect dom Shinsou during girls’ nights had an inkling of truth in them? You may have to throttle some of your friends.)

You hesitated. “Hitoshi, you are my best friend—”

“Therefore, we already have an established relationship based on trust and respect, and I’m not leaving you. Not ever. I value our friendship too much. I won’t screw you over. Tear out my fucking vocal cords if I ever do.” He ran his hand back through his hair, flattening it, but it fluffed back up anyway. “I’m already unbearably fond of you, so I’m not gonna be cruel about it. It just so happens that I have the resources and skills that you’re interested in, and we’re not gonna end our friendship anytime soon. I might be a good solution for your problem—though, I have to admit, I don’t really think you have one.”

“And,” you said quietly, tossing the ball back and forth between your hands, “you don’t think my soulmate would think less of me for being touched by someone else?”

Wincing, Shinsou said, “Purity culture has chewed you up and spat you out. I’m not telling you to compromise your morals and lose your virginity to someone who’s not your soulmate, but I am saying that even if you do, it’s okay, and—and I’m just not saying that because I wanna fuck you. I’m saying that it’s okay if you experiment for what you want later with other people now. It doesn’t devalue you.” He clicked his tongue. “And nobody’s dick is good enough to alter your worth fundamentally. Anyone who says otherwise can’t find the clitoris.”

You managed a laugh at that, and you crawled up to lie next to Shinsou. He flipped his onigiri-patterned pillow over so that the cool side would face up, and he scooted it over for you to rest on, too.

“Let me continue to entertain your overthinking: even in the slim chance that your soulmate is a fuckshit who thinks less of you because you’ve fooled around before,” said Shinsou, tilting his head on the pillow to face you, “that fact will hold less and less weight the more he gets to know you. You’d be so easy to fall in love with.”

Sighing, you bit your lip. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” said Shinsou, staring at the ceiling again and folding his hands on his chest, “Hell, I wish you were my soulmate. It’d make things easy, don’t you think?” He managed a quick glance towards you before returning upwards. “We already know each other so well, and you wouldn’t have to worry about being vulnerable around someone new. You’d just have me.”

“Please, Hitoshi, there’s nothing just about you. You’re so fucking lovely,” you said, imitating his position and laying your hands on your stomach, following his gaze to the lazy swing of the ceiling fan pull. “Would you—would you be grossed out by seeing me?”

“Never. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to do it.” Shinsou twiddled his thumbs and knocked his socked foot against yours. “If it makes you feel safer, I’ll do anything to help.”

“People pay you for sessions, right? How much would I pay you?”

“What?” Raising a brow, Shinsou flipped on his side to face you. “You wouldn’t. I’m offering. Other people came to me, but I’m the one approaching you. I’m not gonna make you give me money for this.”

“But,” you said, shaking your head, “what do you get out of this, besides endless dirt on me?”

“I get to see my best friend be comfortable in her own skin. I haven’t seen that much at all, in all the time we’ve known each other,” he said, and he reached for his phone on the bedside table. “Consider it, at least. I won’t mind in the slightest if you want to or not. It’s only a way I could help quell your anxiety.”

***

YOU

all right, you schmuck

YOU

i’ve slept on it

YOU

i think i want to do it. i can rescind that at any time though

HITOSHI 💜🍡

of course

HITOSHI 💜🍡

how much time do you need?

YOU

uh. guess i’m ready whenever you are.

YOU

my dorm or yours? or somewhere else????

HITOSHI 💜🍡

I bet you’ll feel the most comfortable in your own bed

HITOSHI 💜🍡

if you’ll allow me an hour to prepare, I’ll be over soon

***

What does one wear to get dommed?

Revealing clothing? Underwear? Anything at all?

A brisk knock on your door, way too quickly, but you braced yourself and opened the door on a serious Shinsou, clad in all black (jeans and a turtleneck), hair mussed up a bit more than usual, and carrying a duffel bag. He tilted his head as he looked up and down your body, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile at your loose, cat-patterned loungewear.

“May I come in?”

You stepped aside, and he strode inside, noting the lit candle (against dorm rules, but he’s no snitch) and cherry blossom lamp, and set his duffel on the desk. As you trudged in behind him, playing with your fingers idly, he pulled out your desk chair, spun it around, and straddled it, propping his folded arms across the back.

“Let’s talk,” he said, gesturing for you to sit on your bed, “I custom build my routine for each client. What I have in mind specifically for you is drastically different from anything I’ve ever done: it’s much gentler, slower—” He held your gaze, wide and serious, and wetted his lips. “—and intimate. I will walk you through every step, and you have the power to veto anything I propose. You have all the control here. I will never be disappointed in your decisions. You are not in danger.” He gripped his opposite elbow, knuckles whitening. “I want you to know that what we do does not have to be inherently sexual. Our goal is to increase your tolerance for physical contact, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said, your fists clenched in your lap, “To feel at ease when people I trust touch me…I’d like to have some shred of chill by the time my soulmate comes around.”

You hoped Shinsou wouldn’t start by making you suck his dick. Judging by the way he was sitting and the bulge in his jeans, he must have a huge fucking cock (weird to think about your best friend’s genitals). Opening your mouth that wide wouldn’t feel comfortable, and you’ve already been chewing gum today, soreness already imminent.

(What’s in his bag? Is it all condoms? [That’s a lot of condoms…])

“First off,” he said, raising a finger (but for some reason he’s raised his pinkie finger to indicate one instead of his index finger, and then you’re noticing the length of just his pinkie finger and imagining how far it could go down your throat), “I’m not gonna fuck you. That’s your soulmate’s job, as you’ve established. What else are you specifically saving for your soulmate?”

Shinsou’s mouth twitched into a smirk when he noticed your narrowed eyes followed the loose gesture of his pinkie finger, and with a roll of his eyes, he returned his pinkie to his fist and raised his index finger, which had your shoulders slackening as you slumped back onto your bed, leaning back against your hands with your neck tilted back, arched at the ceiling so that you didn’t have to look him in the face.

“I’ve got, uh, reservations about the…” You shifted your weight so that you could gesture vaguely with your hands. “Mouths and hands directly on my cunt sort of thing.”

Shinsou let out a low whistle, and at that you had to break from the ceiling to see his expression: he was fucking grinning and shaking his head, his eyes a bit glassy as he scanned your own expression. “Using some crude terms, aren’t we? For a virgin.”

“Oh, come on. I’m a virgin, not ignorant,” you said, crossing your arms over your stomach and hunching over a bit to hide, “Do you want me to be clinical? I can say vagina and vulva and stuff all the time if you want me to, but cunt, at least, blurs the specificity and makes it simpler—”

“No, no, you’re good. You can sit back up; no need to hide.” Shinsou flicked that index finger in a gesture that lifted from your knees to your head, and you unfurled, pissed that he’d picked up on your body language like that—but, you supposed, that’s what he’s here for. “I was simply surprised you didn’t go for pussy. Do you want me to avoid using that term?”

“Uh.” He’s being. Thorough. Thoughtful. Why didn’t anyone else ever treat you like this? Some of your friends have such an unholy combination of words in their vocabulary that barrage you with psychic damage, and no one’s ever asked or noticed if you’ve been uncomfortable. “I think—I think if you use it sporadically, it’ll be fine.”

“All right,” said Shinsou, nodding, “So, no direct contact of my mouth or hands on your cunt.”

God, he can’t turn off teasing you for one minute? “Yeah. Though I can rescind that. I’m hoping that I might be comfortable enough down the line, but right now, I’m not.”

“Of course. I’m proud of you for recognising a boundary, even if it’s temporary. We’ll only go there if you decide you’re ready.” He blinked slowly, like a cat in a sunbeam. “Anything else only for your soulmate?”

In a bunch of stories you’ve read about hook-ups or friends-with-benefits situations, the people don’t always allow kissing, because that implies romantic feelings. You didn’t know precisely due to your lack of experience, but maybe that holds a grain of truth?

“Okay. There’s another thing I’m not sure about at the moment but is subject to change,” you said, and there’s no fucking way you’re going to look at him while you said this, so you became very invested in pulling at a hangnail, “I don’t know about—how I feel about kissing. You. On the mouth. Because what if I’m the super susceptible kind of virgin who attaches herself to the first person who shows her affection, and I fall in fucking love with you?”

“Hm. That sounds less about kissing and more about this whole situation in general,” Shinsou said with a grunt, over the sounds of his pushing up from the chair and taking the two steps to stand in front of you. “Hey. Look at me?”

He’s got nice shoes. He didn’t take them off at the door, but considering they’re scuffed, black doc martens, they may be part of his getting into character as a dom. Huh, they made his feet look long and narrow; what kind of insane socks must he be wearing under—

“I’m gonna use one hand to touch your face. Is that okay? Nod, if—thank you,” said Shinsou, and his right palm cupped your cheek, his long fingers grazing wisps of your hair and thumb over your cheekbone, and he tilted your face up to look at him.

Wincing, you averted your eyes from his, but he tapped your cheek with his thumb. “Nuh-uh. Look at me, sweet—thank you,” he said, once you made yourself do it (and it was hard, harder than it had ever been whenever you’d shot him side-eye when he pulled a crap move in a co-op video game, harder than glancing towards him in class to see if he’d gotten your joke, and it left a stone sitting in your stomach, one whose full weight you didn’t care to discover). Part of not looking him in the eye was bracing yourself for his usual reprimand of you’re overthinking, but it never came. “Let’s entertain the thought of your falling in love with me,” said Shinsou with far too much ease, his lips remaining parted at the end of that heavy sentence, “Isn’t that good? Because it means that whatever part of me you fell for, you know that that’s something you want in your soulmate. It tells you more about yourself and what kind of love you want.”

Your jaw dropped on impulse, and his grin widened as he stroked your cheekbone.

“Think about your favourite characters in books and movies. Aren’t there patterns of traits in them that you’d want in your soulmate? Falling in love, in all of these frequent iterations, is just a way to learn about what you like in a partner. I know you like Prince Zuko—”

“Hitoshi,” you said, abruptly very aware of the warmth of his palm as you tried to move your face underneath it, “Are you telling me to treat you like that? Like someone disposable? Like someone who isn’t real?”

“The way you talk about Zuko does not indicate that you know he’s a goddamn cartoon,” said Shinsou, “Or, more specifically, his hands—”

“Hitoshi,” you said, screwing your face up in a pout while leaning into his hand (holy shit, leaning into his touch, a pseudo-depending on him to keep you upright—something about allowing the dependence mixed with the warmth of his scarred hands [very slight, calloused dents where he wound his capture weapon as default] had you feeling lightheaded—and then you felt stupid, because you were feeling lightheaded over a goddamn touch to your face that’s not even that delicate), “I’m not treating you like that. For you, that sounds—” You huffed, and you worked up the strength to look him in the eyes again. “—so lonely.”

Breaking the eye contact himself, Shinsou sighed, and he moved to slide his hand off of your face—but you clamped your own hand over it, first an actual clamping-type move, to get him to stay, and then lessening the pressure, to let him know he can take it off, if he really wants. “Sorry,” you said, tapping your finger on the back of his hand, “I like this. It’s easy. I can handle it, I think.”

Nodding, Shinsou kept his hand on your cheek as he grappled behind him for the chair again, and this time, he sat in it properly, with his knee grazing one of yours. “Listen. I’m used to people projecting feelings onto me. They get wrapped up in the heat of the moment, and once the scene is over, they know they don’t actually like me romantically. Post-nut clarity, y’know. So, if you want to,” said Shinsou, rubbing his thumb over your cheek and grasping one of your hands with his free one, “If you have any inclination to project feelings on me, if it does anything to make you feel more at ease, then please, do it. I want you to get to know you better.”

Project feelings. Not truly feeling them. And if you did happen to fall in love with him, then it’s only a passing thing to get to know what you want in your soulmate.

Shinsou seemed so certain that he was unlovable, and that stone in your gut burbled mournfully in stomach acid. You’d respect his decision to hide his soulmark’s name, but should he ever let it slip, you’re going to find his soulmate to prove him wrong as soon as possible.

“Okay,” you said, nodding firmly and looking him in the eyes.

“Okay? You sure? Right, then,” said Shinsou, and he sat back in his chair, relishing in how you visibly grieved at the loss of his touch, and crossed his arms loosely. “Any other boundaries, hard or otherwise?”

You took a moment. “The stomach-tummy area is personal.”

“You’re insecure about it?”

“Hey—”

He waved a dismissive hand at you. “I knew that already, but it’s good to have verbal confirmation. I’ve seen the rate at which you bare that part of you, even in the light of peer pressure. Just means I know an area to lavish affection upon, when or if we get there.”

Groaning, you fell back on your bed, the heels of your palms digging into your eyes. “You’re insane for noticing that. You’re insane for noticing that. How—”

“Being aware of my environment is part of what a stealth-route hero like me has to do, sweet—” Shinsou cut himself off and frowned. “How do you feel about terms of endearment?”

“Not Jack Nicholson’s best work.”

“You piece of shit,” said Shinsou with a laugh, yanking on your duvet to make your ass fall off the edge of the bed, “I meant. I meant if you were okay with pet names, like sweetheart or baby or anything.”

You scrambled to get your ass fully back on the bed, pulling the duvet with you. “I don’t know how I’d respond if you called me anything; it’s not really a sexy word—”

“You are in for a world of trouble one day,” Shinsou said, tossing the corner of the blanket over your head (you swatted at it), “Because now I can be honest about how you behave: you’re a goddamn brat, y’know?”

“Oh, come off of it, Hitoshi; with the way we tease each other, it’s like you’ve trained me to be this way,” you said, laughing a bit as you tucked your duvet in again, but when you caught Shinsou’s eye, for some reason, his expression had completely stiffened. It only lasted for a moment, though, and he recovered in a flash.

“Well,” he drawled out, “I figured that using terms of endearment would add another layer to teasing you, and judging by how hard you’re avoiding answering me seriously, you’d like that. Wouldn’t you, sweetness?”

“I’ll kill you,” you said, hating every fibre in your being as you’d, on reflex, tensed up, halting any movement, and flushed, heat flooding your face and neck, when he’d called you that. How old are you? Old enough not to get fucking flustered at being called—

“As if you could.” He clicked his tongue. “Are any terms off-limits?”

“You can probably think up something absurd or nasty that I wouldn’t consider,” you said, “Sticking to the classics would probably be the safest.”

“All right. Anything else you think of later, as a boundary, you let me know immediately. Now, listen: unless otherwise instructed, you’re free to touch me in any way you want. I may direct you away from something, should I think you’re not ready for it.” He raised his index finger again, and he made a big show of raising a second finger from his fist. “And finally, two. This is a hard, non-negotiable rule for you: I’m not going to use my quirk on you. Ever.”

You collapsed on your bed again with a disgruntled groan. “What else is new?”

Shinsou shook his head. “I don’t want you getting the impression that just because we’re in a session that I’m going to do that to you.”

You sat up and snapped your head towards him. “You said it’s a rule for me. Do you use your quirk on other people who get you to dom them? Because, if so, I call bitch.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Shinsou hunched over to rest his elbows on his knees. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. They ask me to, and! And,” he said, holding up his hand to stop you from protesting, “It’s nothing but a session. They’re paying me for a good time, and that’s it. But you—you’re doing this as—as something akin to therapy, I guess. I’m just a step on your journey to being intimate with your soulmate—someone you’ll be with for the rest of your life. That’s a long time to be without my quirk, if you get too used to it, in the context of being intimate. If you end up needing to be brainwashed to be vulnerable, then it’ll only stunt the physical part of your relationship with your soulmate.”

“Fuck you for making sense,” you said, mirroring his hunched-over position and nudging his knee with yours, “And as for real-life reasons for not using it? Because you’re an ass?”

Shinsou’s eyes narrowed and glinted in the cherry-blossom light. “Because imagine,” he said, reaching towards your face again (pausing a moment to ensure you were okay with it, and after you nodded, he continued) to lift your chin with nothing but his curved index finger underneath it, “if I could finally control the biggest brat in my life, and what’s more, she wants me to? Much too addicting. I wouldn’t get anything done. I’ve got to become a hero after all this; I can’t spend all my time taking care of my prettiest little girl.”

When he dropped your chin, you stayed tilted up, in the same position he left you in, throat exposed and blinking profusely as you tried to process what he’d said. Your mouth was very, very dry.

Uh.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” said Shinsou, and you jolted from your stance to see his hand clapped over his mouth, brow furrowed with the tips of his ears reddening, shoulders curved in as he slumped.

It’s about time he showed he could get flustered, too, because you’ve already embarrassed yourself just with conversation and a few touches to your face. But what the hell was he getting like that over?

Shinsou dragged his hand down his chin and formed it into a fist in his lap. “Do you know if you’re into proper Dom/Sub dynamics? Do you know if that’s something you’d like to explore? Because with the way you stayed there for me,” said Shinsou, inching towards you, his chest heaving at his steadying breath, “you could be someone’s perfect little sub someday.”

“I think so. I think I am,” you said in a small voice, “I think that’s something I might want to be—hold the fuck up. Did I manage to turn you on?”

After the tiniest moment of shrinking under your smug smile, Shinsou puffed out his chest as he sat up, rolling his shoulders back. “It’s to be expected in a session, since it’s a sexual context.”

“Oh, my God, I did it. I turned someone on. Holy shit,” you said, running your fingers back through your hair, “I think I have to call Mina. I finally did it.”

Shinsou scoffed. “Please, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve—”

“Oh?” You froze, your hand almost to your phone on your bedside table. “Say more right now? Who do you know who’s been—”

“We’ve discussed boundaries enough for this first session, since it’s not that invasive. Let’s get to the heart of the session,” said Shinsou, standing to reach around for his duffel bag, and, after unzipping it, he handed his laptop to you. “Pick out a movie.”

You tilted your head as Shinsou trudged back to your door to untie his doc martens. “Excuse me?”

“I should already be logged in. Check my bookmarks bar for streaming sites,” he called from your door.

Shrugging to yourself, you slipped his laptop from his Put Your Hands Up Radio sleeve (leftover merch that wouldn’t sell; you had one as well) and opened it to search for a movie, automatically shifting over on your bed to the spot where you sat when the two of you watched something and blindly reaching for your throw blanket.

“Now, did I tell you to do that?” asked Shinsou as he rounded the corner again to see you settling into the usual routine, and after retrieving some water bottles from his duffel, he stood by your bedside table, where he put the water while bouncing on the balls of his feet (plain black socks. He is taking this seriously). “I’m not your friend right now, sweetheart; I’m your dom.” The same hand cupped your same cheek as earlier, and he briefly ran his thumb over your cheekbone before returning his hand to behind his back. “All I did was tell you to pick out a movie, and while I’m pleased you can extrapolate from incomplete information, it’s not what I want you doing right now. Sit back where you were.”

Holding your breath, you scooted back to the middle of the bed, where you’d been sitting on the edge, computer in your lap. What have you gotten yourself into? Was this what your best friend was really like? Has he had some sort of issue with your movie nights up until now?

Shinsou sat at the head of the bed, but he took up the whole space instead of sitting in his normal spot. He held out his hand for the laptop, and he placed it, cracked open, on your bedside table, moving your phone out of the way.

And then he fucking spread his legs.

“C’mon, sweet girl, sit back against me,” he said, patting a thigh with one hand and extending the other towards you, “I know you can do it. Come here.”

I know you can do it felt condescending here. Of course you can do it. It’s nothing but sitting between his legs instead of next to him. Very simple. Mind-bogglingly simple. So, it felt patronising and unnecessary that he would pull out that line for something so easy, this early in the game.

That didn’t mean you didn’t like it.

This was his idea of a first session? You were so pathetic that he felt the need for you to practise sitting between a man’s legs? Shut the fuck up.

Penis. You might touch a rascally ol’ penis, even if it’s through layers and layers of fabric. Inch resting.

You’ve never been fucking held. What if you cry, or something?

Which, oh, yikes, oof, makes your second point make a bit of sense.

Steeling yourself, you crawled the two feet towards him, but you hesitated before turning around: he’d parted his legs ever wider while you’d crawled back, so none of him was touching you at the moment, giving you still a chance to back out before it began.

“If it helps,” he said, tired eyes half-lidded, “think of me as your soulmate.”

Swallowing, you managed to nod just barely, and you turned.

At first, you’d tried to have some space between you and Shinsou, but he’d helped position you, guiding you with his large hands on your hips to have your ass snug against his pelvis (and yeah, the penis was there), hips framed by his inner thighs (since when have his thighs been bigger than yours? And his were all muscle), and he slid his hands up to your waist and ribcage to keep your back pressed against his chest. Once he had you all pressed against him the way he liked, Shinsou set his chin on your shoulder, startling you, but he petted away your alarm at your waist, a gruntled huff of hot air at your ear while he grounded you.

“You can tell me at any time if you get too stiff or want to change to a different position, but you’re staying in my arms tonight,” said Shinsou, untangling one arm from around your waist to reach for the laptop, “I thought cuddling would be a good start for you—full-bodied vulnerability, but you don’t necessarily have to look me in the eyes for it, and you can feel safe knowing I’ve got you. You’re held; you’re not in any danger.”

He placed the laptop on your knees. “Now, knowing your sense of humour, you’ve picked out Terms of Endearment.” Instead, he opened it to the title screen for a Zuko-centric episode of The Last Airbender. “All right, that’s fair.” You heard him laughing through his nose behind you before returning his chin to your shoulder.

Initially, you couldn’t concentrate on Zuko’s rippling pectorals for once in your life, because there was a man holding you and his dick was right there. Not, like, hard or anything, but it was present, just something extra to press against your ass. Eventually, it became less about the cock and more about being held, which was fucking intoxicating and warm and made you feel so small and safe, and that was out of the ordinary for you. The small huffs of Shinsou’s laughter in your ear through his occasional commentary (really kind of him to talk through a movie, like he normally did, instead of staying in dom mode, you thought. Helped you relax).

But even the movie night had to be cut short. Five minutes into the third episode, you’d finally cosied into his arms—dare you say, feeling like you could handle this thing called cuddling—when Ojiro and Hagakure started going at it next door. Hardly a full minute had elapsed between their clamouring down the hallway, the slamming shut of her door, and what sounded like a kabedon and something immediately plunging into Hagakure, based on her moans. Probably fingers.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I hope they were fooling around in public beforehand, so she’s at least gotten some prep,” you said, as Shinsou shut the laptop.

“We’ll continue this another time,” said Shinsou, setting it aside, and he, moving to kneel, guided your hips forward to turn you around to face him. “Was this okay?”

You shot him a double thumbs-up. “Excellent first step. New but safe, facilitated by a variation of something we’re already used to.”

“Something we’re already used to,” he repeated under his breath, for some reason, barely audible over Ojiro’s tail thwacking the shared wall. He reached for both his laptop sleeve and a water bottle for you, and he started packing his stuff away.

You twisted off the cap to break the seal. “Are we gonna do something different next time?”

“I think we’re going to do this a couple more times so that being held is no longer a sort of event in your mind, adding some minor variety so that you don’t get overwhelmed, before we move onto something completely different.”

Wiping water off of your mouth with the back of your hand, you bit your lip. “You’re being so kind to me. So patient. Considerate.”

He shot you a look from where he was zipping up his duffel. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well,” you said, holding the bottle in both hands, “Don’t most of your clients, like, choke on your cock within fifteen minutes of starting?”

His back was to you as he fiddled with a side pocket, and it took him a beat to reply. “Believe it when I tell you that I am delighted you’re letting me walk at your own pace.”

***

You were completing the world’s most pathetic checklist.

Holding hands? Check.

Cuddling? Check.

Spooning cuddling? Check.

Being able to look a man in the eyes while he tenderly cupped your face with both hands and told you nice things about you? Check—though that one took a lot out of you.

Were you embarrassing? Maybe a bit, but you couldn’t talk yourself out of being who you were, and Shinsou didn’t seem to want to, either.

You allowed yourself to curl up into yourself in the café booth, hiding yourself in the back while you propped your forehead against the exposed brick of the back wall. Lately, Shinsou had been directing you away from hiding your body and making yourself smaller when you felt ashamed, and damn it, you understood how he was trying to be helpful, but sometimes you just didn’t want to be perceived.

This session was the first public outing—a practise date, he’d called it. Practise for showing small, safe gestures of affection out in public. He’d dressed up in another all-black outfit again, as usual, because he’d emphasised that he had to get in character, to get out of “Best Friend Shinsou” mode. He’d even made a hype playlist, but he refused to show it to you yet.

He’d picked a café that you’d never been to so that you wouldn’t have to worry about the staff at your regular places judging you, and once again, you’re struck by how kind Shinsou was. If he were this level of considerate with all of his clients, no wonder they kept coming back to him. To be able to stop worrying, to leave it all to someone who took such pains to ensure your comfort and safety, who made your decisions for you—it’s goddamn inebriating.

Huh, it’s taking him a while to get menus. You tapped your fingernails in a ripple on the table where he’d parked you. Where was he? Twisting around, you scanned the open café area but recognised no one. How do you lose someone with purple troll hair?

Oh, he was rounding the corner of the dessert case, coming out of the hallway with the bathrooms, and he…he was talking to someone you’d never seen before, way shorter than he was with pastel pink hair and enormously puffy, white earrings. Even from the back corner booth, the way her face lit up as she spoke to him charmed you.

Shinsou was smiling, too, a pensive sort of wryness crossing his face as he snatched two menus from the basket up front, his brow furrowing when he had to shake a sticky third one off. Her elegant face pinched up when Shinsou unstuck the remaining two, and he gestured towards the booth where you were sitting. Oh, the fabric on this chair was absolutely fascinating, all of a sudden, and you kept plucking at it until Shinsou’s doc martens appeared in your view.

“I apologise for taking so long,” said Shinsou, sliding in next to you instead of across from you like a normal person, and he offered a menu.

You took it, rubbing the tacky plastic film. “It’s fine. Why sit next to me? It’s a booth, not the Last Supper.”

“It’s so we can hold hands, you muppet,” said Shinsou, and he promptly laced his fingers between yours and rested your hands on the table between you. As he laid the menu flat on the table, he returned the pink-haired woman’s wave as she exited the café, squeezing your hand as he did so.

“Care to enlighten me?” You scanned the drinks section, honing in on the coffee.

He flipped over the menu. “I can tell you she went by Mawata, with me. Not giving you the family name, mind. Signed the contract.”

Who would pay that much for a café au lait? Bougie. Perhaps even pretentious. “I see.”

“She recognised the getup and assumed I was in a session. I didn’t want to betray your trust, so I told her I was on a date. Which isn’t far from the truth.”

“I see,” you said, this time more strangled.

“Do you know what you want to order yet?”

“Almost.”

“Good,” he said, releasing your hand and scooting closer to you, “because we’re going to try doing something a step further. I—”

“Fucking go for it,” you said, peeking at the other side of the menu.

Shinsou faltered. “Are you sure?”

“You’ve kept me safe so far,” you said, shooting him a smile, “I trust—”

Mawata was bursting back into the café, the bell on the door ringing rather violently, and rushing back to your booth, her puffy earrings swaying erratically. Shinsou turned himself towards you, taking up space and shielding you the best he could by the time she skidded to a stop at your table, her kitten heels leaving a scuff on the tile.

“When can I hire you again?” she asked, breathless, “I’m assuming she knows.” She didn’t even spare a glance towards you.

Bracing himself, Shinsou turned his head in her direction, still hovering over you. “Now’s not exactly the best time.”

Mawata fidgeted with her purse strap. “I know I’m being rude, but holy shit. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ll be rude if it means I get to see you again. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t let you go now that there’s a chance again. Even if I have to pay you, I have to have you in my life. There’s no consistent way to contact you, so it feels like fate that I met you today.”

While Mawata rambled, Shinsou turned towards you, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, and, wincing, he shot you an apologetic look, eyebrows raised. You didn’t know what was coming, but you nodded. Running his tongue over his lower lip, he mouthed thank you, and for a brief moment, as he turned back to her, you caught a hardened expression you’ve never seen on your best friend.

“Mawata,” he said, stone cold and callous and chilling, “It sounds like you’ve broken one of my rules.”

She flinched, the movement shuddering through her whole body and bobbling her earrings, and she dropped her gaze to the floor, her head bowed and fists tight on her purse strap. A choked whimper escaped her as she took a shaky, shallow breath.

The distressing, empty space in which Shinsou waited for her to answer caused you to tense up behind him, and without looking back, he fucking skimmed his fingers over your thigh, cool as you please, until he could place his spread palm across it. Lightly, at first, a barely-there touch, but—you had to give him some sort of signal, so you grazed your thumb over the back of his hand—after he had your approval, he let the full weight of his hand rest on your thigh, gently tapping his fingers on the fabric of your jeans.

Good. Considerate, attentive Shinsou was still there, underneath whoever the fuck he was being now.

Her choppy, straight bangs shielded her eyes as she kept her head down. “I—I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

Sir?! Sir?!

That’s fucking Hitoshi. Hitoshi, who talks in a high-pitched voice to cats and encourages Eri to decorate his face with stickers. Hitoshi, who can’t always remember to take the tin foil off of his leftovers before putting them in the microwave. Hitoshi, your best friend, who’s got his goddamn hand on your thigh.

(Hand cover…so much…of thigh. Big hand. Big hand good. Big hand safe. Big hand hold you.)

([Good God, woman, pull yourself together. It’s just a hand on your thigh.])

(But there is nothing just about Shinsou, is there?)

Shaking his head, Shinsou clicked his tongue. “And I’m sure you do. I want you to say what rule you’ve broken—and I know which one you have; you can’t hide from me. I’ve been in your brain; I know how you think. I want you to admit it. And I want you to tell me what you’re doing wrong now because of it. If you can’t even say it, I no longer know you.” He lifted his chin as he stared her down, and even from behind, you can tell that he’s giving her that cold glare that made anyone shatter—you’ve only seen it in training, and it’s never been used against you. “You know what you signed. Say it.”

“I—I’ve developed feelings for you,” she managed to say.

“And?”

“And that means, by contract, I can’t see you again.”

“And?”

“And!” Mawata inhaled sharply, shifting her jaw as she raised her head to look him in the eye and chickened out, instead focusing on the table. “And by approaching you in public with another client, you’re gonna fucking blacklist me with the others across the fucking city. But sir, you said you were on a date, and I didn’t know you did that now, and I want that—”

“Not quite. I’m not out with a client,” Shinsou said evenly, squeezing your thigh under the table, “I’m out with my girlfriend. Which is a greater transgression on your part, wouldn’t you say? We’re done here.” Shinsou nodded once and gave a dismissive wave, and she bolted out of the shop.

Shinsou turned to you, expression soft, posture crumpling, and hands lifting to cup your face, and he babbled apologetically. “Baby, I’m so sorry you had to see that. Mawata’s violated contract before by badgering Kaminari for my personal number, but that doesn’t immediately blacklist her; it got her put on a probation list. I’m sorry. I tried to get rid of her the best I could at first, but it didn’t work, and I’m so fucking sorry you had to see me like that. I would never treat you like that, sweetheart; you mean too much to me. Please believe me when I say that what you saw was just a continuation of the dynamic established between Mawata and me and that I would never—” He cut himself off and rested his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this.”

Hello! I would like to address girlfriend. Are we going to do that?

(Well, you figured, in the moment in which you cracked your eyes open to watch Shinsou’s unfairly long eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, that using girlfriend was a firm way to establish that Mawata was not wanted there.

Plus, he had said earlier that he hadn’t revealed you were a pseudo-client, so it may have been a confidentiality thing. Even though you never signed anything. That’s Shinsou for you, being a step ahead in caring for you.)

“Hitoshi, it’s fine,” you said, placing your hands over his and bringing them down into your lap, “I get it. You did what you had to. Yes, you scared me a bit, but some part of it was also hot. You let me know you were still there.”

Shinsou pulled back to garner your expression, and, after seeing something that he evidently liked, he bent to put his forehead on your shoulder. “So, the hand on your thigh was good?”

“Very. I appreciate that you did it through clothes for this first try. Not as startling.” Since Shinsou has been so good to you, you bolstered enough courage to comfort him back: you tentatively raised a hand to run it through his hair, scratching at the base of his skull, and the man fucking groaned, snuggling down into your shoulder and getting as close as he could to your neck without going past your collar (you hadn’t gotten to neck stuff yet, which, as you noted it, may be the dumbest fucking thing about yourself). “She mentioned others? I’m assuming other hired doms?”

“More or less,” said Shinsou, his voice grumbling, “I don’t really see much of them. Mostly at the start, when I was learning how to do BDSM stuff myself. Making sure what I was doing was safe. Helped me with legal stuff. I don’t wanna be sued or arrested for any of this, y’know.”

“Don’t tell me Aizawa-sensei’s involved. You can just look at that fucker and tell he’s into tying people up and brat-taming.”

“All right,” said Shinsou with a muffled laugh, “I won’t tell you.”

“Holy shit. That’s our professor—”

“No, c’mon, keep scratching. Go on. Let’s see what I can tell you,” said Shinsou, “He’s never been one of the employees proper, but he has provided some educational materials—yes, on shibari. Thank God someone else is now burdened with this information.”

“Think he was affected from the soulmate quirk?”

“If he does, his soulmate’s in for it,” said Shinsou, whining a bit when you moved away from the base of his skull, and he plopped your hand back there to keep scratching. “He fucking needs someone to take care of. And to take care of him. Fuck, he’s a mess.” He sighed into your shirt. “Speaking of, I’ve got an escort mission with him and the rest of the stealth-focused group in about a week, so we won’t be able to have a proper session. Odds are, I’ll be prepping with the rest of the students, so we won’t see much of each other at all.”

“Remind me who’s studying stealth?”

“Bakugou and Aoyama. Oh, and Todoroki’s been shoved in our group, since he’s hopeless at PR, according to Kayama-sensei. Don’t know how that’ll affect our current group dynamic, but I look forward to working with him. Midoriya can’t say enough good things about him.” Shinsou dragged himself away from your shoulder. “So, I’m sorry we won’t be seeing each other as much. I’ll text you when I can.”

“I’ve got stuff with Present Mic to work on. It’s fine. That just means I get to hang out with Dango instead of you, right?”

“Stop bragging,” he said, and he pointed at the menu as he stood. “Time to tell me your first and second choices for your order. I’ll get the second one, so you can try some of it.”

“Wow, someone’s a slave to routine,” you said, indicating what you wanted, “If I hadn’t seen your performance just then, I’d say that your dom persona is the same as typical Hitoshi.”

His eyes glinted strangely as he smirked and gathered the menus to put them away. “Is it?”

***

HITOSHI 💜🍡

bakugou is bitching about the quality of aoyama’s trail mix

HITOSHI 💜🍡

says it’s shit

HITOSHI 💜🍡

he’s made us trail mix that he considers good. we have spent a considerable amount of this mission prep meeting debating what qualifies good trail mix.

HITOSHI 💜🍡

bakugou, I mean

YOU

idk man i thought aoyama’s trail mix was pretty fucken tasty

HITOSHI 💜🍡

why am I not surprised you’re the one who ate most of it last night

HITOSHI 💜🍡

if they ask where it went, I won’t tell

***

The day of Shinsou’s escort mission, you were out shopping for a plant for him. “I mean, you’re extremely attentive with people and cats,” you were saying, your phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as you checked the price on the bottom of a zinnia starter, “but something tells me you will forget a plant is real.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, jackass,” came Shinsou’s voice over the phone, “I could keep up with something like a succulent. Or bamboo. I bet bamboo would fucking thrive in my dorm.”

“Bamboo requires frequent watering and heavy sunlight, actually,” you said, moving on to non-flowering plants, “So that thing would fucking die the instant it crosses your threshold.”

“Distressing things to hear,” said Shinsou, and you heard Aizawa’s voice and Shinsou’s distant response. “Gotcha. Listen, I’ve got to go. The plane’s scheduled to land in five minutes, so I’ve got to focus. Talk to you later?”

“Of course. Good luck!”

“Thanks. You, too, with the plant. Bye,” he said, but he didn’t hang up. You figured he meant to and just didn’t. Your thumb hovered the end call button, but when you strained to hear Aizawa’s and Bakugou’s voices and Shinsou’s closer replies through the phone, you elected to stay on the call.

Putting it on speaker and into your front pocket, you wandered through the garden section moving into the sheltered area as thunder rumbled, fingering at the textures of leaves, and admiring colours. Having him on speaker like this, even if it were just mission talk, felt like he was here with you, and you haven’t hung out with him in over a week—and now with the frequency of both friend hangouts and soulmate-prep sessions, his absence left you with an emptiness, an ache curling into your gut that pinched at your insides. This morning, you’d awoken feeling like you’d been kicked in the chest, so that’s why you risked calling him, even though he was out on a mission, and when you heard his voice, the ache disappeared.

None of these succulents were bitchy enough.

You covered your mouth as you laughed: what if you got him a fake plant and never told him?

You meandered inside as the rain picked up. Talk about radio signals scrambling came through as you debated the merits of a fake blossom on a fake cactus, and you turned the volume down in case you gave away confidential information to the few other losers in a home improvement store this early in the day. It’s a good thing you did, because otherwise, the sound of the airport explosion would’ve scared someone other than you out of your skin.

You ran back outside where you could yell, even though you might not be heard over the pouring rain. “Hitoshi?! ’Toshi, are you there? Say anything! Please!” He never responded to you, but you could hear yelling—not from him, but from Aizawa, from Bakugou, from Aoyama—and heavy cracking and crumbling you couldn’t tell if it were from a building collapsing or thunder rolling.

God, he’s not going to respond, is he? He didn’t know he’s still on a call—but you can track his location, right? Oh, my—fucking.

Staying on the call on your way back to U.A., you sent Shinsou’s location to Present Mic as soon as you could, saying you were headed back. Mic shot back a thumbs-up, since he couldn’t interrupt your call, said you should go give keep tracking with campus security, and that the location has been the biggest help so far in finding the team. They’re buried underneath airport rubble, and your connection with Shinsou’s phone is the only clue they have. Even if his phone isn’t buried—and it probably isn’t, since it has signal—it’s their best chance so far of being found.

The ride back to U.A. had you jolting at any little outside stimulus (and you had to keep apologising to people on the train for not having headphones), but all you could do once you reached security was keep listening. Ages and ages and ages of faint sirens, pelting rain, and shifting wreckage, with you crying so much that one of the security workers felt bad enough for you that they bought you a drink from a vending machine.

And then—as you’re screwing the lid onto your empty bottle—the crunching of footsteps. A distant, “Oh, sweet,” and the grappling of his leather glove around his phone. But something in your gut told you to keep silent. To keep this to yourself. Glancing over your shoulder to the final, straggling security worker at the far computer, you borrowed a pair of earbuds and hid your phone.

Shinsou must have put his phone in his pocket (the one on the side of his chest, based on how close his voice sounded) without looking at the screen, because the call kept going.

“No, say that again,” came Shinsou’s voice, exasperation prevalent, “What happened while they were underground?”

“Bakugou, Aoyama, and Todoroki were all affected by Serendipity’s quirk, but they’ve worked their way out of it,” said Aizawa, more gruffly than usual, or perhaps that was just the thunderstorm interfering with the sound coming through. “Listen. Don’t ask them for details and just be glad you’d been confined elsewhere. But we’ve got to peel Bakugou off Serendipity’s back before he breaks it and get her to Sakura Grove now.”

The relief at their voices triggered exhaustion, and you slumped in your seat, head down on the desk. God, you’ll take all this bullshit about travelling and escorting to this sakura place or whatever. It’s good to hear him talk. You’d listen in forever, so long as he was there. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk. Something in your gut screamed for you not to.

Actual, informative dialogue picked up when they’d apparently arrived at this Sakura Grove place, rushing through security to find Midnight and the team prepared to control Serendipity. You managed to smile at the sound of all of their boots clacking against tile. Lots of running, it seemed, even before they split up.

Shinsou was the one to find Midnight and frantically updated her, all out of breath. “—and Aizawa-sensei’s got her contained in the main waiting room, but he can’t keep her for much longer—”

“Listen,” Midnight interrupted, “I can’t have Ito and Serendipity be in the same room. Watch her while I take care of this. She can’t do anything more to you, so—” Her voice grew faint.

And at last, silence again.

Eventually, a woman’s voice came over the speaker. “Nice tits.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t stare at my chest,” said Shinsou, and you fucking laughed under your breath, shoulders heaving. You folded your arm to use as a pillow on the desk and smiled loosely as you listened in.

“Who are you? She said Ito, but that doesn’t tell me anything.”

“Yet what she said told me so much.”

Shinsou paused. “What d’you mean?”

“That I can’t do anything more to you. Tells me you’ve met me before. Inhaled my quirk.”

Shinsou took a deep breath, as if to remember. “You broke into U.A.” Heavy exhale. “You ruined my goddamn life.”

“Want to sit down and talk? They’ve set up a lovely sitting room here, really. Seems a shame not to put that great ass to use.”

“Please stop objectifying me,” said Shinsou, sighing (and you could picture him running his hand back through his hair, with it bouncing back instantly), “Fine. Fine, I’ll talk. I know someone who likes having information. I’ve got to kill time, anyway.”

Shuffling. The creak of a chair.

“Why don’t you start with how I’ve ruined your life?”

“Take a fucking look at this.” The sounds of velcro and thick fabric being adjusted, and then silence.

“Okay,” said Ito slowly, “It’s a name.”

“It’s my fucking name, jerkass. Do you have any idea how much sleep I’ve lost over it? How am I supposed to deal with this? Am I doomed to be alone? Am I supposed to cry while jerking off for the rest of my life? Is that what the love I have amounts to? Because—and not that I would fucking want this, but even if there were another Shinsou Hitoshi, it probably wouldn’t be spelled with the same kanji, so fuck with that, if you will.”

More fabric shuffling, as Ito spoke. “I bet it would be difficult to find another Shinsou written as chastity and honest.”

“Yeah, my parents are insane. Bet they’d be disappointed in me, if they knew what I was doing concerning chastity and honesty. Has your quirk created something like this before? Is there a way to fix me?” Shinsou’s voice cracked.

“Well, let’s backtrack. There may not be anything to fix.”

“So, you have seen this before?”

“No, but I’d like to cover all my bases,” said Ito, “How bad is the pain? Are you at the level where you pass out yet?”

A beat. “What pain?” Another. “Stop staring at my tits. Pecs.”

“This is funny. You’re funny.” You could hear the smile in Ito’s voice. “Good thing I like funny. I crave funny. Did you know I have no contact with the outside world except through letters?”

“I don’t like where this is going.”

“They keep packets of cheese crackers somewhere in one of these drawers. Will you help me find some?”

Shuffling. Wooden drawers opening and shutting. Crinkling of plastic.

“You’re not feeling the pain because you’ve already met your soulmate,” said Ito through a mouthful of cheese cracker, “If you hadn’t met them, you’d be in fuckin’ agony. All achy, and shit.”

“I can hardly see how I could avoid meeting myself.”

“Okay, cut the bullshit, smartass. My quirk doesn’t work like that, unless you’re attracted to yourself.”

The sound of chewing, up close and personal. “God, no. I hate myself.”

“Then you have a soulmate, and you’ve met them. Easy as that.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” said Shinsou.

“Oh, get fucked. You’re a young hero affected by my quirk, who has associations with Midnight, and you haven’t read my team’s notes on my quirk? You’re not employing all your resources,” said Ito, crunching.

“Someone who read it told me pertinent details,” Shinsou protested.

“Not pertinent to you, it appears. Not that it matters how my quirk works, I suppose. Just be assured that you have a soulmate who’s not you, and you’ve met them. Since you’re not feeling any pain at all, it sounds like they’ve accepted you in some way. Acknowledged you with some sign of affection. Depending on how obvious they are, you may be an idiot.”

“Fuck,” came Shinsou’s whisper, “I’ve been in some…situations recently. There are a number of candidates.” Crinkling of plastic and chewing. “But I still don’t get how my own name as a soulmark works.”

“Bitch, you’re overthinking.”

And Shinsou laughed. Hard. Hearing it made up for all the distress you’ve been under today. His laugh always sounded a bit higher than his speaking voice, like it hasn’t been through as much or like it’s well-rested.

“Got a preference for who it is?” Ito asked.

 Shinsou swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”

“Perfect. Then we can start from there. I can help you find out who it is, by process of elimination.”

“Hey, give me your trash.” Footsteps, there and back again, and the sinking back into the cushy chair. “Why would you help me? You’re a villain, and I’m a trainee-hero you just met.”

“Whatever is going on with you is pathetic and hilarious, and like I said, I like funny. What’s more, I like conclusions to stories,” she said, “and yours, I feel, is going to be marvellously, gloriously stupid. I wanna hear it when it happens.”

Shifting in his seat. “You can get letters? All right.” More shifting. “But what if my soulmark is broken, and I don’t have an ending?”

“Okay, then I’ll take payment now.”

“I think I want to back out—”

“Relax, asshole. I’ll help you,” said Ito, “All you have to do is describe what body part on a woman you prefer.”

“That’s all?”

A beat. “You look like a feet guy.”

“I do fucking not.”

“You’ve got the mouth for it.”

It sounded like Shinsou pushed himself up out of his chair. “Y’know, I think I can live without your help.”

“My dude, I have already established that I am desperate for humour in my life, and even from our brief interaction, you have revealed yourself to be wonderful to tease. Sorry for accusing you of being a foot fetishist. Didn’t mean it. Sit back down?”

A pause. He must have sat and chosen his words carefully. “You usually shield your chest or genitals when someone’s threatening you when you’re physically vulnerable, yeah? What’s left unprotected, though…I like to take advantage of the vulnerability of an exposed neck. Sensual and intimate. Satisfying. I’m betting—kissing the back of it, even when she expects is, is going to make her jump out of her skin. I can’t fucking wait. Hey, don’t look at me like that.”

“Something’s wrong with you. Really.”

“I happen to be—normal. Normal and well-adjusted.”

“You’re into necks and not into choking?” Ito tutted. “Even with your BDSM hero costume?”

“Choking is when something’s caught inside your throat. Technically, what people have taken to doing in bed is a type of strangulation.”

“Way to bring the conversation down, fusspot.”

“I did what you asked and answered honestly,” said Shinsou, “I think we should skip the rest of the part in which you make fun of me and proceed to where you actually help.”

“Sure. First, we’ll need an airtight container.” Another pause.

Shinsou made a frustrated noise. “If you’re really that desperate to stare at men’s tits, my friend Bakugou is in the lobby, and his are way bigger than mine.”

“No, it’s—I get that you’re all posh, since you’re a U.A. student, but I’m assuming even a hero’s BDSM costume isn’t supposed to glow in the chest area. Or at least, only one side of it.”

“What are you—oh, shit, that’s my—”

The call ended.

***

What were you supposed to do? Pretend you weren’t on the phone, obviously, but moreover, how could you possibly help Shinsou find his soulmate when his soulmark was his own name?

Monoma was no help solving anything, but at least he was good company when everyone else was making out (you missed when people played video games in public instead of dry-humping). He and you were caring for Eri that afternoon, since Aizawa, Shinsou, and the rest had to go in for documentation.

Eri pressed a pawprint sticker (from that cat café Aizawa frequented) onto your cheek. “They’re in love,” she said.

“Who?” Monoma asked from his place on the floor, lying down with his legs straight up to rest against the couch.

“Konpeito and Dango,” she said, pointing to the two cats cuddling together on the middle couch cushion, “See how they’re yin and yang?” From above, she was right, ish. Konpeito and Dango certainly had the swish-shapes fitting together in a circle, if not the entirely correct colourings.

“I’m glad they finally went to sleep,” you said, choosing a coffee mug sticker for Eri to put on you next.

Eri nodded gravely. “If Dad-sensei finds the pottery pieces in the trash, I’ll tell him a shark did it. I don’t want him to make Konpeito move out.”

Monoma caught your eye and stifled a laugh, but you didn’t know if it were for Dad-sensei or the shark. “Eri,” he said, checking his phone for the time, “Do you know what’s going on with the room at the end of the hall?”

Frowning, Eri pursed her lips. “Dad-sensei lives there. Is something wrong with it?”

“I should’ve been more specific; I apologise. I meant the empty that been used for storage so far, on the other side where no one goes,” said Monoma, stowing his phone in his pocket, “Room 310, I think. It’s okay if you don’t know, Eri.”

“Oh,” said Eri, peeling off the coffee mug sticker, “I don’t know much. Dad-sensei and All Might-sensei have been talking about it sometimes.” She smoothed it out across the inside of your forearm. “I think someone like me is going to move into that room, but not for a long, long time from now. I hope they like cats. Can I see your words again?”

Monoma shared a sympathetic look with you and became busy with bothering the cats, allowing you the space to stretch the neck of your shirt down far enough to the middle of your left shoulder blade for Eri to read your soulmark.

“Ice princess,” she said, bafflement creeping in, “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I know, kiddo,” you said, “but I used to be a bit mean. It used to fit me.”

“When?”

“When I first started going to U.A.,” you said, “Before the first sports festival, especially. Even though I was shy, I remember being very protective of the few friends I’d made in 1-A at that point. Maybe I had a bad day and was mean about it. Mean about the way I was protecting my friends, or something. I don’t really know, Eri. I don’t know what my soulmark means.”

“Can I copy it? I want to practise writing ice princess.” At your consent, she told you to wait while she got some paper, and you waited more while she carefully copied down the kanji for that part of your soulmark. She presented the paper to you when she was done.

Cute. Adorable. Her basic penmanship made your confusing, harsh words into something endearing. Except. “Hey, Eri, I think you’ve written the kanji for forever here, instead of ice. See how you’ve put two little strokes at the top? Ice only has one.”

“Oh! Thank you very much. The handwriting on your back is all squished, so it’s hard to see all the strokes.” She corrected her kanji on the sheet at the same time that Monoma’s head snapped towards yours, both pairs of eyes bulging (clown to clown communication).

Handwriting.

Eri carefully copied the corrected kanji again and stopped to admire her writing. “Even if you don’t understand it, I still think it’s good.” She wrote her name at the bottom and turned the paper around to show the both of you. “Do I get a soulmate someday?”

You hid your sorrow, and Monoma answered for you. “I hope to God you don’t.”

***

Instead of breaking off towards Class B’s dormitory after dinner, like he normally did, Monoma followed you up the stairs of Class A’s dorm.

“Ah, ha, who are you going to see? Shinsou and I have a movie night,” you said, lying about the session you were going to his room for, “so you must have made a friend.”

“Hilarious. A lie and an attempt at a blow to my ego,” said Monoma, stuffing his hands in his pockets, as he trotted up the stairs behind you, “No, I’m attending Shinsou’s little session, the same as you are.”

“Fuck it all to hell,” you said, halting on the top step, “Did everyone know about that except for me?”

“Chill, I learnt about it two days ago when Shinsou asked for my help. Keep going; he’ll explain it when we get there,” said Monoma, passing you to hold the stairway door open.

Shinsou was waiting for the both of you. He opened his door before you could knock twice and ushered you in. You expected Monoma to make some comment about Shinsou’s clothes (you think he’s got outfits on rotation, but since a fair chunk of his wardrobe is black, anyway, it’s hard to tell) or his serious vibes, but Monoma didn’t say a word or make any condescending expressions. For once, it seemed, he was quiet and subdued, hands in his pockets and standing behind you, waiting.

“Monoma’s here to help,” said Shinsou, stepping forward to curl his long fingers into your hair, scratching gently at your scalp (your eyes fluttered shut, and you struggled to keep them from crossing and rolling back; you have definitely been denying yourself the simple pleasure of someone playing with your hair: safe but immensely satisfying), “If you don’t want him here, or if you don’t want him to see a thing you do, he’s out of here before anything can happen. Either way, he’s sworn to secrecy about this entire ordeal. He owes me, and I’m paying him. And I know you already feel fairly comfortable around him. He’s on his better-than-best behaviour.”

“I trust you,” you said, and Shinsou pulled this strange move where he lifted his hands just barely while he was still cupping your head to scratch it, and you rose to your tiptoes to follow him—the move, paired with his blunt nails on your scalp, had you feeling lightheaded, and you’ve only been here for about a minute (calm the fuck down, babe). “If you think Monoma will help me grow, then I’ll do it. Within reason.”

“All right. You can back out at any time, remember? Okay. Monoma, you first. On the bed.”

On the bed? Are you sure, Shinsou?

Monoma peeled off his TinTin socks and climbed onto Shinsou’s bed to sit at the head of it, and he contorted himself to pull his phone out of his back pocket to set it on the bedside table.

“Go on, then,” Shinsou said softly, prodding your lower back, “Sit between his legs. Just like you’ve done for me.”

Oof. Someone other than Shinsou? I mean. You guessed if it had to be someone other than Shinsou, you’d be the most comfortable around Monoma, but still. It’s as if there’s a heightened layer of friendship with you and Shinsou; it’s different than the relationship you have with Monoma and the relationships with other guys. Somehow, this felt weird.

“Okay, boss,” you said as a joke, and you watched Monoma for any of his many micro-expressions for a shred of disdain or judgment, as if he would tease you for calling Shinsou a title in a sensual/sexual context, even as a joke, but Monoma’s face was placid. No outward signs of malice. Instead, he made room for you between his legs, silent and languid all the way.

“Hee hoo ha,” you said instead of actually laughing, a knee on the mattress. “I suppose you’re aware that this is, like, second base for me. For the state I’m in. I’m fuckin’ calling you Neito from now on, now that you’re witnessing me being a slut.”

There’s no snide comment. Eyes-half lidded, Monoma calmly nodded, resting his hands on his thighs. “If that’s what you want.”

Oh, holy shit. Shinsou must have talked to him about how sensitive/delicate you were about this situation. Either that, or the pay is just that good.

Worried, you glanced back at Shinsou, but he just gestured with a loose flick of his fingers for you to keep going. So, you found yourself easing into a different man’s arms, and it’s instantly a list of comparisons: thighs still framing your pelvis but nowhere nearly as thick or long as Shinsou’s (and that tracked with what Monoma’s told you about how he wants a twink gymnast’s physique for his manoeuvrability in battle, along with Shinsou’s having seven centimetres on Monoma height-wise), somehow colder than Shinsou, not giving off as much body heat, his chin not fitting as well into the divot on your shoulder as Shinsou’s did—but his arms slid around your waist the same way Shinsou’s did, down to the positioning of what hand overlapped on top—Shinsou must have given specific instructions.

You figured that you don’t feel as safe as you feel when Shinsou’s holding you because Shinsou was bigger than you: bigger in presence, really, over physicality—though certain parts of him were objectively bigger, like how fucking long his fingers were and the overall size of his hands. Monoma, though, didn’t give as much of a large presence, but Monoma had said before that being unimposing and nimble worked better for him strategically. Either way.

Wow, yeah, Monoma really was holding you just like Shinsou did, without space between your legs and his, with his arms snugly around the upper curve of your waist, and his mouth pressed—but not puckered or kissing (a polite boy)—to your shoulder, on the shirt collar as close to the bare skin of your neck as possible without touching it.

“Fishy,” you said, glaring at Shinsou while tapping Monoma’s hand at your waist.

“I’m glad you noticed. Good detail work,” said Shinsou as he stowed away the Put Your Hands Up Radio laptop sleeve, and he crawled onto his bed.

As Shinsou pulled up a movie, you panicked and snapped your head back to look at Monoma. “Hey, are you okay with this? I don’t wanna impose on you if—”

“I’m fine,” said Monoma, blinking slowly, “I haven’t been told everything, because that’s your business, but I can garner that this is very important to you. And since you’re comfortable around me—though I don’t think anyone will ever lower your walls like Shinsou does—I knew I could do this for you. If it were anyone else besides me, you wouldn’t be as comfortable. Worry about me if you want, but it’ll be misplaced.”

You faced the front again and grimaced. “You two are acting fucking insane.”

Shinsou looked away from the screen for a moment. “No, baby,” he said, tapping the top of your foot, “We’re being careful. You deserve to be handled delicately.”

You didn’t know if it were his usage of baby or the skin-to-skin touch on your bare foot that made you jolt. Probably both.

(Because while you’ve been getting used to Shinsou touching you, it’s all been very face-waist-shoulders-arms. His hands haven’t gone below your stomach or to your boobs. So, yeah, while it was just your foot, he hasn’t been around that area yet. Startling.)

“If you say so,” you muttered, and you pressed back against Monoma, as if hiding from Shinsou’s comment—and, to be fair, the careful attention to you felt unusual, especially now that it was someone beyond Shinsou. “What are you going to do? Why have you got Monoma—”

You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale, chest tight and shoulders tense, when Shinsou placed his hands on your knees, and he said, “I want you to get used to a man between your legs.” Carefully watching your expression, Shinsou slowly parted your legs, keeping his hands near your knees and low on your thighs, and he crawled up to lie on his stomach between them, resting, for a moment, on his elbows, propping him upright on either side of your hips.

And you were fucking panicking. You’d steeled your expression the best you could, since Shinsou was watching, but you broke and couldn’t control it; your visible facial distress, you supposed, was hardly the giveaway when you were already stiff and tense, heart pounding, one hand gripping Monoma’s wrist so tightly his bones might grind together, pressing back into him while subtly backing away from Shinsou.

When Shinsou (pausing briefly but continuing, more cautiously, when you didn’t say anything) moved to wrap his arms around your hips and settled down against you to rest his head on your stomach, your breathing picked up, and your chest started heaving.

(C’mon, baby, it’s just a guy’s presence between your thighs. He’s not even touching you in a sexual way. He’s just there. You’ve even got the security of an extra friend, grounding you by touching you in a familiar way. Neither of these people [you weren’t even thinking of them as someone who might see you as a romantic or sexual target, but just as people] has ever done anything sincerely malevolent to you. By all accounts, you should be safe.

It shouldn’t be anything. It really shouldn’t be affecting you this much. Right?

[But when purity culture has been gnawing at you for a lifetime, it can be a lot just to spread your legs, let alone have someone between them.]

Damn Shinsou for being right.)

And Shinsou was peeling himself away from your stomach, reaching up to hold your face, to comfort you, to assure you it’s all right; he can move; you can do this another time or not at all, but it’s not really working. You kept squirming between both of them, unsure if you truly wanted to get away or be touched in a different way or anything at all: your brain had resorted to irrational anxiety.

In the back of your head, a reasonable voice noted that both of them were taking good care of you and that it made no sense for you to be writhing about like this (why weren’t you saying anything?!), but that voice never got loud enough for you to obey.

“Stay with me, sweetheart; stay here,” Shinsou was saying, moving back into a kneeling position to avoid physical contact with you where he could (but with the scant space, he could hardly avoid touching your thighs), shifting to hold only one of your hands, which he grasped desperately. “I’m gonna walk you through a grounding exercise, okay? And then when you’re ready, we can talk.”

Behind you, Monoma had been keeping a neutral presence, erasing himself when he couldn’t imitate Shinsou, and while he’d retracted his arms from around you so that you could escape, you were still trying to hide, almost, by retreating back against him. You caught it out of the corner of your eye but didn’t process the meaning until later: Monoma subtly manoeuvred his foot to graze Shinsou’s bare ankle.

And Monoma’s voice blended with Shinsou’s, warm breath ghosting over your ear. “Are you listening? You with us? Do you need us to go?”

You didn’t have any answers, and it was killing you. “I don’t know.”

It’d barely left your mouth before Monoma spoke. “Relax.”

Your brain emptied.

As if it unhinged itself from a latch and now hung loosely.

Into a comfortable, distant trance.

Body going limp. Muscles losing tension, as if you’d submerged yourself up to your chin in a hot bath. As if the tight spring that’s been coiled underneath your ribcage your whole life has now been reshaped by the touch of a forge you haven’t known, the hot, bright, molten metal oozing before it’s moulded into a gentler form. Your eyes fluttered closed, feeling a faint throbbing in the roof of your mouth.

You weren’t thinking, and it felt good.

You were barely able to hang onto even that observation, and therefore, you later had grace for yourself for not understanding what was happening between Shinsou and Monoma at the moment. In your floating, weightless distance, you absorbed the conversation but didn’t process it until much, much later.

You couldn’t be worried about their argument when you’d been told to relax, so the last hint of concern flew out of you before Shinsou ripped Monoma off of you and onto the floor. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Shinsou was whisper-shouting, his splayed hand pinning Monoma to the rug, “What the fuck? She’s never felt my quirk before; I’ve sworn I’d never use it on her, because it’d be—what the fuck is wrong with you, man? You said you’d fucking do what I said.”

Monoma was scrambling out from under Shinsou’s grip, and he let him go. “Fuck it, you never—you never told me that.”

“I didn’t think I’d have to? Jesus Christ, Monoma—”

“You saw her.” Monoma scowled and crossed his arms, plopping himself down in the desk chair. “I could feel her freaking out before you could see it, and it’s fucking heartbreaking, y’know? I didn’t—I felt fucking sorry for her and wanted her to be okay. That’s not a goddamn crime.”

“You forced her. You took away her agency and fucking forced—”

“Have you taken a look at her lately?” Monoma jerked his head in your direction. “Heard her talk about her soulmark? About her life recently? She’s only getting more stressed the longer this goes on. I want her to be able to relax, and I saw that I could give that to her.”

Shinsou paused, pinching his lower lip between his thumb and index finger.

Monoma went on. “Listen, I’m sorry. And I’ll apologise to her once she comes back down, but honestly, I think she deserves the time away from this. I know she’s your girl, but she’s my friend, too, and I want her to have some shred of peace.”

Shinsou frowned. “Don’t say that. She’s not—she can’t be my girl; she’s got a soulmate out there.”

Scoffing, Monoma waved a dismissive hand. “Shut up. You were fucking showing off earlier when you were scratching her head. How you made her follow your hands when you lifted them. That’s some infatuated shit right there.” He ran his tongue over his lower lip. “You teach her to do that?”

Shinsou tentatively sat next to you on the bed—and you, floating somewhere distant, still registered his weight sinking into the mattress and his hand near your face without touching it. “I hope not,” he said, brow furrowed, “I…I generally enjoy being a bad influence, but in her case, I’m terrified that I actually am.” He raised his hand to cup your face, but he withdrew, fingers hesitantly curling into his palm. “I don’t want her to change to please me or anyone else.”

At this point, your vision started to black out, spots creeping in at your periphery. You have no recollection of what you did next, but considering how both Monoma and Shinsou avoided your gaze when you asked about it later, you must’ve actually done what they said. You apparently took his hand in both of yours to play with his long fingers and said in a slightly slurred voice, “You sound nervous. Don’t be nervous.” And you promptly stuck his first two fingers in your mouth, taking them as far back as you could go and sucking.

An alarmed Shinsou, mindful of your teeth, removed them as quickly as he could, but neither he nor Monoma could erase their looks of shock before you dozed off.

***

You’d woken up nine hours later, with Shinsou asleep on the floor next to the bed and Monoma sleeping upright in the chair, arms crossed. They’d stumbled over each other in their apologies, but since you were feeling more well-rested than you have for the last ten years, you couldn’t bring yourself to be truly mad. Irritated, sure, but that’s inevitable.

You nibbled on the thumbprint cookies Monoma had made for you in the interim while they both empathically apologised, over and over and over. You still weren’t all the way there, but it was on purpose this time.

Because Shinsou’s quirk had felt absolutely fucking fantastic. And he’s been keeping it from you.

You’re confused, really, because if it’s got that mind-numbing pleasure tint to it, why’s he doling it out to others but not you? He’s said recently that he didn’t want you to get dependent on it, but that’s…that’s only an excuse he’s given since the soulmate incident. Otherwise, he just hasn’t, with no explanation. Has he leaked a clue somewhere along the way?

Nevertheless. His quirk had sponge-dabbed at your brain, washing and making it new while you were under its control. Your mind has felt cluttered and cramped for years, and his quirk ushered in spring cleaning, opening windows and letting in light.

Oh, no.

***

YOU

i found your so-called dom hype playlist. you didn’t even make it private!!!

YOU

why is it just the naruto soundtrack over and over again

HITOSHI 💜🍡

:(

HITOSHI 💜🍡

it makes me feel powerful :(

***

Though your gut was urging you to stay, you wanted nothing more than to go home.

Classes 3-A and 3-B had an undercover mission in four days, with all of you sectioned off into teams for quashing PLF bases spread across the country. One of the base locations was a high-end club, and those who were assigned there (Asui and Todoroki) had never been to a club before, a group of you were at a club tonight to help them get used to the environment.

Still early in the night, you had been among the few who hadn’t the courage to go dance first thing, so you had volunteered to guard bags and coats at the enormous table you’d commandeered towards the back, away from the music, close to the bar, and now with mismatched chairs shoved closely to make enough space.

Shinsou was only just now finally getting back from the crowded bar, his beer and your pink lemonade in hand, with Ojiro in tow, babbling and gesturing wildly.

You moved your bag so that Shinsou could sink into the blue leather loveseat next to you, and he nodded towards you, staying engaged in Ojiro’s conversation. Oh, yikes, Hagakure was there, too; you just didn’t see her—she’s strategically wearing something nearly translucent.

Thumbing at the condensation, you stared into your glass, cloud-shaped ice bobbing in pink, when Hagakure (presumably) grabbed Ojiro’s face to kiss him, and his tongue appeared to be inside her mouth. Shinsou glanced towards you, checking in, and when you made a mild, furtive look of oof, he leaned in towards you.

(“A club? We should go,” Shinsou had said, nudging your shoulder with his, “I want you to practise a greater level of casual touching while in public.”

“But we’ll be with our classmates this time,” you’d said, slumping down onto the picnic blanket you’d spread out on the roof of Class B’s dorm, “They’ll notice.”

Shinsou had flicked a straw wrapper into your hair. “Sure. And then it won’t be such an abrupt surprise when you do it with your soulmate.”

You’d rolled away from him, taking some of the picnic blanket with you. “But what if they see me be vulnerable?”

“I’ll keep that from happening. You have the perfect cop-out, too: you can always claim you were drunk.”

You’d peeled one of the heels of your palms from your eyes. “I…guess. I guess.”

“Anything you want to do to me is fine,” Shinsou had said, tearing the blanket away from you and smoothing it out again, “But I want you to start thinking about something else we’ll try soon. I’m giving you the choice of what to do, since it’ll be a bit more intense.”

“Intense?”

“Ah.” Giving up, Shinsou had shaken his head and had lain down next to you. “I misspoke. Intimate would’ve probably been better.”

You’d sighed and flipped towards him. “Lay it on me.”

Shinsou had counted off on his fingers, starting with his pinkie to irritate you. “Skinny dipping. I’d ensure no one could walk in on us, and I wouldn’t look at you, if you didn’t want me to. We could play strip poker or variations thereof—and once again, we could play it in some way that I wouldn’t be able to see you if you didn’t want, but you’d get used to being—being less clothed in the presence of a man.”

“That’s assuming I’d lose.”

Shinsou had cracked a smile. “So it is. Or I could undress you, and I—I could wear a blindfold, or something, if you didn’t—”

“Do you have one handy?”

Shinsou had propped his chin on his fist. “Do you even have to ask?”

“Any other options?”

Here Shinsou had looked away, instead staring into the night sky. “I—I was considering, if you’d let me, touching your boobs as an option, but that felt like a level more intense than the others. More personal. And I’ve concluded you aren’t there yet. Or at the point at which you could try sitting on my lap to get me hard.”

“Hitoshi, you’re insane. You’re going at it from too many angles.”

“Nah,” Shinsou had said, tilting his head towards you, “I want you to be comfortable, however we do this.”)

Shinsou’s hot breath unfurled down your neck as he whispered, “Use me. In any way you want.”

You smacked him in the chest, and he winced, clutching the spot as he grinned at you. “That’s fair,” he said.

For a while, the back table housed only Hagakure, probably grinding on Ojiro’s lap, Ojiro, whose tail shot straight up and stayed there, and you and Shinsou, smushed together on the leather loveseat, talking in hushed tones, starting with when he was going to return your copy of Fire and Hemlock and somehow ending up at which pokemon the top pro-heroes would eat.

When the others settled around the table in a break from dancing, you low-key mourned the loss of the privacy you’d had with Shinsou; it had been kind of cool that in this deafening, crowded place that you and Shinsou had had a moment alone, even with a couple actively making out beside you. No one else could fit on the loveseat, but even with enough space elsewhere, some soulmate-bound couples still overlapped, like how Mina and Kirishima were squished together in one chintz armchair and how Jirou had her legs splayed over Yaoyorozu’s lap in the next folding chair over.

You zoned out for a while—everyone else was talking at once, anyway, so that gave you leave to consider if Hawks would have a preferred evolution of Pigeot to deep-fry. But you were snapped back into reality when Aoyama suggested that the group should play truth or dare.

“Fuck no,” said Sero, slapping a hand over Kaminari’s mouth, “How old are we? Where are we? Get your head out of your ass.”

“And we’ve otherwise been working our asses off doing the boring prep for this mission, Sero, and we’re supposed to be having fun tonight, anyway,” said Mina, her tongue darting out to lick the salt around the rim of her glass, “I think we should.”

“I don’t want—look, it always goes the same way,” said Sero, and he let his hand fall from Kaminari’s mouth but still gripped his shoulder in a tight threat. “It’s either you get dared to perform some fuckin’ gross or sexual act, or you have to tell everyone who you like. We’ve moved past primary school, so I’m not—”

“Then we just change the base rules.” Kaminari didn’t bother dodging Sero’s thwack to his head. “We make it sort of reversed. Where truth is the more dangerous one to pick, and dare is extremely low stakes. There’s super personal shit that no one needs to know that I’m dying to know about some of you.” Kaminari lowered his heart-shaped glasses and stared pointedly across the table at Iida, Uraraka, you, and Shinsou in turn.

Kaminari’s proposal assuaged most issues the table had, so it came down to you and Shinsou as the ones still not wanting to play.

“Too dangerous,” said Shinsou, leaning back with his arms folded behind his head, “There are things that are my business only.”

“Yeah,” you said, sucking in through your teeth, “I’m not—I’m not into this. Plus, I’m really tired already, and, like, if we have to play something, can’t we think of a better game to play? This is—this is so fucking cliché.”

“Never mind,” Shinsou said quickly, giving you a strange look and letting his arms fall to his lap as he sat up straight, “I desperately want to play truth or dare. In fact, I demand it.”

Laughing, Kaminari reached over the table for Midoriya’s drained beer bottle (having to wrestle it from his grasp) and cleared out a space for it in the middle of the table, while you shrunk down in your seat, wishing you’d brought a book. Because—the bottle was spun—it could keep landing on the same person, meaning more focus could be on a single person than in a turn-based version of the game.

With the bottle landing first on Todoroki, Kaminari pulled no punches once truth was chosen: “Of your three closest friends, would you fuck any of them?”

Contrary to everyone else, Todoroki hardly reacted, instead his brow furrowing in thought. “I’m so fortunate to have so many friends,” he said carefully, “I’m not quite certain who would consider themselves closest to me.”

Uraraka grinned. “Well, who would you consider the closest?”

“Gracious,” said Todoroki, blinking, “I’m very lucky. My friends are so good to me. I—”

“Is he dodging the question or genuinely being weird about it?” Kirishima asked.

“Oh,” said Todoroki, “Well. My answer would be yes, I suppose. It would be wonderful that they’d believe themselves close enough to me to consider asking.”

“You fascinate me,” said Mina, reaching over to pat him on the head, “I want to study you like a bug in a jar.”

“You wouldn’t initiate?” Sero asked over Todoroki’s spinning the bottle, and Todoroki shook his head. “Valid.”

When it landed on Uraraka, she chose dare. “Hm,” said Todoroki, “Low stakes. I…You are dared to rest your head on Midoriya’s shoulder.”

Nearly in his lap, Uraraka was already almost doing that, anyway, so she complied.

From then on, you wanted to melt into the cracks in the floor and evaporate, even though the bottle hadn’t landed on you. All of the questions weren’t being phrased in a way that could fit someone like you—all questions assumed everyone’s had sex already, that everyone has some sort of sordid, sexual history, and good God, it sounded like everyone present did, to an extent (except for, perhaps, Todoroki, whose answers only spurred more questions). Even if their only sexual partner were their soulmate, the picture was painted that everyone was doing what you considered, to put it mildly, risky.

The most bizarre place Kaminari has jerked off was in a sewer, while he was staking out a suspect, with Pro-Hero Manual not far down the path. Midoriya’s favourite sex positions had to be looked up by the rest of the table, so for a delightful moment while Midoriya glowed beet red, everyone else hunched over their phones. Mina has given head in the recording booth for Put Your Hands Up Radio (“Everything was turned off, guys—except for Eijiro.”). Jirou would rather orgasm during oral rather than actual intercourse, and out of on a beach, a plane, or in the bathroom of a high-end restaurant, Yaoyorozu would prefer to have sex on a beach, because—she added unnecessarily—she’ll never have sex on a plane or bathroom again. After hearing that Kaminari would kill to muzzle someone, you concluded that you may be living in a different reality than the rest of your friends, and then the bottle pointed towards you.

You didn’t want to play. You didn’t want to admit anything. You didn’t even know what they’d get out of you—besides the fact that you’re a big-ass virgin, you supposed, and that would only open the floor to an awkward soulmate explanation. “Dare,” you said, sighing.

Narrowing his eyes, Kaminari tilted his head. The only other dares so far had been Uraraka’s head-resting and Sero to hold hands with Iida, which they were still doing, hands on the table between their drinks (Iida had made them swop seats so that his dominant hand could be free). “Riiiiight. I dare you to sit in Shinsou’s lap.”

Do what.

Shinsou turned towards you, brow furrowed with a quirk of the corner of his mouth to check if you were okay with it, if you were comfortable, and you sighed again, your shoulders heaving. “I guess,” you said, and you started to shift over but halted mid-movement. “Sit in lap how? Sideways? Straddling? Other way I don’t know?”

Eyes flicking around the table before settling back on you, Shinsou opened his arms and said, “Sideways is fine. I’ll help you—and don’t worry; you’re not bothering me.”

Holding your breath under everyone’s gaze, you climbed into his lap, crawling across his legs and then flipping, your ass mostly on one of his thighs while your legs draped across his other leg and into your old seat, and—holy fuck, Shinsou’s thighs were so thick that you sat a little taller than he did; you could put your chin on top of his head if you really wanted to, oh, my God. What the fuck. Shinsou must have seen the incredulity in your expression, because he guided one of your arms around his shoulders, to fit more comfortably in the space, while he wrapped an arm around your hips to stabilise you, fingers lightly pressing at a belt loop of your jeans, and with his other hand, he held yours in your own lap.

Jesus fucking Christ. You’re not going to make it out alive.

You needed time to process this, but you were denied it; you had to ask a question to Uraraka, since the bottle had landed on her again, and so you popped out what the table groaned to be the lamest question of the night: “Who’s in your ideal celebrity threesome?”

“Huh.” Uraraka steepled her fingers together. “Togashi Yoshihiro, in his prime…and Hawks.”

Kirishima screwed up his face. “Who the hell is Togashi—”

“He’s the mangaka for Hunter x Hunter,” said Todoroki pointedly, before closing his lips around the straw in his mostly drained strawberry daquiri and making a strident suction sound against the glass.

Kirishima screwed up his face more. “I get that writing a shounen manga can be manly, but why else would you choose specifically—”

“Because he pulled Takeuchi Naoko, the mangaka for Sailor Moon, even with his filthy apartment, poor fashion choices, bad posture, and questionable hygiene. The dick must be insane, in a rat-boy sort of way,” Uraraka was saying, running her hands through Midoriya’s hair, “Plus, he’ll feel insecure in comparison to perpetually charismatic Hawks, so there will be some sort of pathetic, competitive air to the sexual encounter.”

And then Uraraka was spinning the bottle, thank God, so any involvement with you ended. Shinsou—he could probably hear your fucking heartbeat going crazy from being paid attention from everyone else in a sexual context—rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, softly smiling up at you to calm you down, and something inside you caved. You had the impulse to curl into him, to close your eyes and press your mouth to his hairline, to ignore the rest of the group until it was time to go (Shinsou would keep you safe), but you couldn’t obey it, because the bottle pointed towards…you and Shinsou.

Squeezing your hand, Shinsou steeled himself (thighs flexing underneath you) and said, “That’s me. I don’t believe I’m in any position to complete a dare at the moment, so. Truth.”

“Oh, fabulous,” said Uraraka, clapping her hands once, “There’s so much I’ve been waiting to get out of you. What’s the most pertinent…hm.”

“Want some help?” asked Mina, leaning over Kirishima’s bicep and the armrest, holding her drink at a hazardous angle (Kirishima lifted it out of her hand to set it on the table when Mina leant further away).

After Mina had whispered in Uraraka’s ear for a minute, Uraraka returned her attention to Shinsou, biting the inside of her cheek to conceal her delight but practically beaming regardless. “What’s the most you’ve ever made someone come in one night?”

Shinsou’s eyebrows shot upward, his tongue flicking over his lower lip (and you tensed up. The hand at your hip squeezed it gently). “One night? Fourteen.”

“What the fuck.”

“That can’t be true. You’re fucking making that up.”

“With toys? With your quirk, right?”

“No quirk. Not really,” said Shinsou, bowing his head slightly, and he bit his lower lip, his teeth showing for a second when his lip curled in. “I happen to be very, very, very good with my mouth.”

Silence. In it, Shinsou briefly released your hand to spin the bottle himself, and he took it again as the bottle turned, threading his fingers through yours. Blankly, he bumped his forehead against your shoulder, like a cat, before a tired, half-grin stretched across his face. You returned it, fighting the urge to play with his hair.

But then your luck ran out for the next year or so. Perhaps your whole lifetime. For some reason, the bottle kept landing on you and/or Shinsou, and he kept speaking up to save you from answering. The relief and gratitude that flooded you each time Shinsou covered for you only made you wish you could do something for him, too—you could rent his favourite Everest documentary from the library again, get those bizarre sour jawbreakers from the Mom ’n’ Pop gas station in his home district…lie with him in your bed…play with his hair before he puts the mousse in…

What was his favourite position to give oral?

“Kneeling,” Shinsou said so quickly it was a bit startling, and he shifted underneath you, sitting forward. “Kneeling, with them on the edge of their seat, legs spread a bit too widely than what they’re comfortable with for them so that they feel exposed. They can’t touch me unless I let them, and I won’t. They have to ask permission to look.”

Okay, bucko, a follow-up of how you like to receive oral?

“I don’t, generally,” said Shinsou, tilting his head, “because if it’s about me, then my partner isn’t getting as much pleasure as they should be getting. But if they insist, it’s however they want to.”

No, idiot, this isn’t about your partners. This is about you.

“Fuck you. I have to be lying down, or close to it, because my knees tend to buckle if I come from oral.”

If your partner were going to send you a video, what could they do to make it turn you on the most?

“Oh, huh.” Shinsou shifted so that he could scratch the back of his head, and you moved your arm out of the way for the gesture. “First of all, I wouldn’t want my partner to send me anything like that. No nudes, or anything. Because that’s private. That’s intimate. That could get leaked or hacked, and really, her body would be for my eyes only,” said Shinsou, his eyes half-lidded, “In addition, odds are that any video wouldn’t live up to the real thing, so I wouldn’t want it. Just makes the ache worse. Besides, I’m the only one allowed to tease.”

You’re ridiculous. Fine, if the video would never be shared with anyone else, guaranteed, and it lived up to seeing them in person, what would that look like?

“Just my partner saying that she loves me, preferably after she’s just woken up. Sorry to disappoint, if you were expecting something kinkier.”

Spit or swallow?

“Offended that you have to ask.”

You were growing antsy—antsy on the cusp of hyperaware and jittery. Something about the night had gone stale, like you were at a high altitude without enough oxygen. Something about the way some people were reacting—Jirou’s controlled, stone-cold expression (pinched brows and shifting jaw to hint that it took focus to stay that way) paired with Yaoyorozu’s letting her hair down to hide her red-tipped ears, Mina’s constant, excited whispers alternating between Kirishima and Uraraka, Midoriya’s seeming lack of surprise to Shinsou’s answers while he peeled the label off of his fresh bottle. Were they acting like this because they wanted to contain themselves hearing it for the first time, or have any of them—any of them witnessed any of it? Shinsou had said that people you knew had enlisted him to dom for them, and…you didn’t know. Something about it didn’t feel right. Yes, these were your friends, and you loved them, but something about their seeing a part of Shinsou that you haven’t got under your skin. Your friends may love Shinsou, but you love him more.

“Hey, babe,” Shinsou said under his breath, while the bottle spun again, “I need you to let up a little, okay? You’re getting a little too tight.”

You looked down at Shinsou and shook yourself; you’d unconsciously been constricting your arm around the back of his neck, pulling his face near your boobs. You relaxed your arm for him to lean back.

“I also—” He set his hand on your knee, stilling it (how long have you been jostling it?). “—need you to stop fidgeting, if you don’t mind.”

The bottle was slowing, but Kaminari missed it entirely to stare over his martini glass at Shinsou’s mouth. With a glint of pale pink club lighting flashing over Kaminari as his eyes dropped to Shinsou’s chest, you were pierced with an icicle-cold awareness of the bulge under your thigh you’ve been too nervous to acknowledge, and a full-bodied shiver swept through you.

You pulled away from Shinsou, frowning down at him. “I do mind, actually. Come with me somewhere?”

“Of course,” said Shinsou, and he helped you off of his lap, ignoring the bottle and the protests of your friends. You couldn’t look back at him, lest you lose your nerve, but you grabbed his hand and led him through the club, shoes sticking on the beer-soaked floor, weaving through dancers and bar patrons until you ended up in some empty, mildewed corridor with one flickering, fluorescent light.

You spun on your heel, grit grinding under your shoe. You had no plan, but what came out of your mouth, pulled from somewhere deep in your gut, sounded right. “I need you to bite me.”

Shinsou blinked in time with the light flickering. “I’m sorry?”

“A love bite. A hickey, or whatever,” you said, and, taking his hands, you placed them on your own shoulders and made him push you against the wall, with the crackly dust under peeling wallpaper shook onto your sleeve even from the slight impact. “The next step you wanted me to think about. I choose this.”

“Oh.” Glowering towards the floor, Shinsou stuck his hands in his pockets, his mind somewhere else, but he recovered, face softening, and took a step closer to you. “All right,” he said cautiously, fiddling with his jacket zipper, “Is there—where do you want it?”

You were about to say the top of your left boob, since the low cut of your shirt allowed it, but an intrusive thought struck you, bringing to the surface the memory of Shinsou’s voice over the phone: I like to take advantage of the vulnerability of an exposed neck.

When you raised a finger over the pulse point on your neck, Shinsou froze, stilling all movement. Even the rise and fall of his chest halted for a moment. After a long beat, he snapped out of his distant haze, his Adam’s apple dipping as he swallowed. “Got it. I can do that.”

When Shinsou put his hands on your waist, you understood why people fight wars over people like him. Light and hesitant at first, his hands fell into their full weight at your silent encouragement, encompassing so much more of you than you’d thought, steadying you against the wall and back in reality. Drumming his fingers on your waist, Shinsou ducked his head, shot you a sliver of a smile, and pressed his lips to your neck.

His lips were cold. But Shinsou always ran cold, you told yourself, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that this dry, close-mouthed kiss to your neck was—oh. His lips parted (smoothly and a bit stickily; you’d seen him re-apply his coconut-pear beeswax chapstick at the bar), pressing more fervently against your neck as his tongue made the first sweep over your skin. He curved the tip of his tongue for the second lap, spreading more saliva over the spot, and at his first suck, your hands flew up to grip his biceps. You felt his mouth curl into a smirk and his quiet hum, and you, mildly embarrassed, slid your hands from his arms up around his neck, one of them sliding into his hair to press him further into your neck—he broke off to laugh under his breath, a heated huff brushing over the wet spot on your neck.

“You okay?” he asked, adjusting hold on your waist, one hand easing down to the small of your back and inching upwards between your shirt and your coat, his whole, flattened hand weighing down and warming you.

“I’m fine,” you said, keeping his head tucked in your neck so that he couldn’t see whatever embarrassing face you were making, “Keep going?”

“I’m gonna have to use my teeth now. Just a warning,” said Shinsou, and at your tap on the back of his head, he returned his mouth to your neck and sucked.

You inhaled sharply and gripped the back of his collar, crumpling it, while his tongue laved over the spot between sucks, hot and cold, pressure and release, and Shinsou pulled you tightly against him, his jacket zipper cool through the fabric of your shirt. He was lightly nibbling, gentle and barely there, between harsh sucks, the spot aching and raw, and he bared more of his teeth, letting the length of a few brush against you as an alert—and he sank his teeth into your skin, sucking, lips smushed to the tenderer wet insides.

“Holy shit, Hitoshi.”

When he pulled back, Shinsou licked his lips, his eyes glued to the spot on your neck. He swiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “Looks good.”

“That fucking hurt.” Releasing him, you ran your fingers over the spot, unable to tell any different aside from moisture and the slightest swell.

Shinsou raised an eyebrow and stuffed his hands in his pockets again. “It is a bite. Bites tend to—”

“Oh, shut up.” You fussed with the collars of your shirt and coat, wanting to frame the bite. “Help me out?”

Shinsou’s crooked grin returned. “You want it on display?” He adjusted your lapels for you. “Someone’s cheeky. Don’t tell me you were—”

“Don’t say it, fucker,” you said, deliberately averting your gaze to stare at the fluorescent light.

It took you the whole process of Shinsou arranging your shirt and coat, the shared grins, the navigating back through the sweaty throng, leading him by the hand, his cool one in yours, beat to some bubble-pop song pulsing in your ears and chest, and plopping back onto the loveseat at the group table to realise two things: one, that he’d been himself throughout that whole thing. He’d been joking, reacting like your friend instead of your dom. Like Hitoshi instead of that Shinsou you didn’t know. The dom persona had slipped away in a flash, or it hadn’t even entered the equation. So quick a transition, from what he’d been showing to the group to how he behaved around you. Had he noticed? Was it intentional?

And two: you really wanted to mark him back.

***

You dangled your legs off of 3-B’s dormitory roof, full of self-loathing and nervous energy. Stressed enough to fight the urge to exfoliate with a cheese grater all the way down to the bone.

The hickey had worked. No one had said a word about you or Shinsou the rest of the game. In fact, as soon as you got back, the game ended within a turn. Kaminari had opened his mouth, probably to ask where you’d been, but his eyes fell to your neck, and he shut his mouth, turning his attention to Sero and clamping his hand over Sero’s and Iida’s. The rest of your friends had behaved similarly, acting like nothing was wrong. It’d given you immense satisfaction, and you’d grinned into your refill of pink lemonade; you hadn’t noticed until the end of the night that Shinsou’s arm had been around you, resting in a divot in the leather on the back of the loveseat, running behind your shoulders. Felt good to be special.

Gritting your teeth, you clenched the edge of the roof, knuckles showing. Why it felt so good—you didn’t want to put it into words. If you did, that made it real.

Instead, you’d recruited Monoma to help you in a last-ditch effort to find your soulmate. You’ve been going through your old shit from freshman year, trying to find any record of someone calling you an ice princess. Or a bitch, or something along those lines. Since Monoma’s better at tech stuff, he’s been combing through everyone’s social media dated from the first semester at U.A., searching for any pictures of you or anything that could be vague-posting. You’ve even bothered Aizawa for the old seating chart and records of some of the earliest group exercises, though those weren’t appearing fruitful, either.

Mirio was watching Eri today, so Monoma and you were camping out on B’s rooftop, spreading out the blanket you and Shinsou usually used, with your laptops and old notebooks strewn across it. Monoma was currently taking a short break to make popcorn, so he’d be back in a few minutes.

It wasn’t enough. But you’ve involved another person, so you might as well see it through—but you wanted to quit looking. Fuck it if your memory were faulty and that you couldn’t remember who said your words to you. They didn’t matter.

(Fuck, no, don’t allow yourself to put it into words.)

([You can’t stop what’s already happening. You can’t kill a thought once it’s made its home in your head.])

(Yeah, so shut the fuck up. Don’t think it. Distract yourself. Keep searching for your—)

([—soulmate, whom you didn’t care to meet, because you had feelings for somebody else.])

***

YOU

hey y’know that page where ua students can submit anonymous confessions???

YOU

i found me in a post. in freshman year and everything

YOU

says that i’m a “frigid bitch who needs to pull the column outta [my] ass”

MONOMA 🔇🎭

oh lolololol don’t worry about that one

YOU

???

MONOMA 🔇🎭

I submitted that lol

YOU

drop your location right now so that i can come rip you to shreds

***

Once you acknowledged them, your feelings peeled you like a grape. No, more like—more like someone’s scraping away the outside of a pineapple with their fingernails, juice occasionally getting through, but mostly just a mess of spikes and sticky fingers, with the conclusion that it would’ve been easier to smash the damn thing.

Bad. Bad feeling. Evil, even. Shinsou trusted you, as a friend, and you’ve gone and put him in the romance zone. You’ve put him in a category he wouldn’t want to be in. Bad and evil and diabolical. Life-ruining. Relationship-ruining. You might lose him, and that would snap you in half like a raw carrot.

“Baby, you’re just staring at the bell peppers,” said Shinsou, leaning on the shopping cart, jolting you out of your reverie, “Pick two and c’mon. Everyone else has left the produce section; they’re over towards seafood.”

“Th—thanks,” you said, shakily accepting the plastic bag Shinsou handed you, but you made no move towards the bell peppers. “Why don’t you catch up? I can finish here.” And maybe process your thoughts enough to make a decision.

Shinsou smiled, standing upright to stretch his arms above his head. “Nah. What else do we need over here? I can get it for you.” Good God. His shirt rode up just enough to reveal a dark, violet line of hair trailing upwards, a soft line suggesting abs framing it, a thick waistband of a popular brand of boxers peeking out of his plaid pants. Stomach as salvation. Your eyes bulged and glazed over, but you shook yourself out of it.

“Uh,” you said intelligently, “Potatoes. Those mad small ones.” You made a circle with your middle finger and thumb as a measure. “Around this size.”

“Gotcha,” said Shinsou, already spinning around to scan the produce, “They come in purple; is it cool if we use those?”

“Of course,” you said, miles away somewhere, freezing and back in bed underneath a nest of blankets, with Shinsou tucked in next to you, his arms around you with his mouth to the back of your neck.

Oh, you’re fucked fucked.

You normally took normal bell peppers and normally put them into the plastic bag, like a normal person, and twisted it normally to seal them in, setting the bag in the toddler seat of the cart in a normal way. You’re good. You’re fine.

(How do you act around him? Is this how you typically behave around Shinsou?)

You have questions about his behaviour, too. Because you’ve looked back on your sessions with him, and the further they’ve gone along, the less stern the dom act has been. He’s been more and more like how he normally behaves around you, just with the addition of physical contact. Have you been making him be a poor dom, because he’s so used to you? He might not even realise that he’s slipping. Subconsciously, his behaviour has made it feel real to you, instead of as a service he does professionally, because he’s just been…himself.

You’re breaking that rule he establishes with other clients, which was not to develop feelings. He didn’t have this rule with you, but he’ll probably stop the sessions if he finds out.

You wanted Shinsou, just as he was. Yes, the dom persona was hot, but it was essentially just a door into your true feelings and wanting to touch him for real. If his dom act were slipping in your sessions, you’ll take it—it’s probably the closest you’ll ever have to being truly intimate and romantic with him without ruining your friendship.

Your heart skittered at the sight of Shinsou returning to the cart, bag of tiny, purple potatoes large enough to share with the class heaved in both arms, and you joined in his laughter at the pathetic, tinny noise he’d made lugging the bag into the cart. Shinsou commandeered pushing the cart from you, edging you off of the handle, but when you wouldn’t let up, he kissed your cheek. Frozen, you let him take the cart from you, and he hastily proceeded towards seafood, not looking back.

To keep the sessions going, you’d have to pretend you’re still looking for your soulmate.

The sessions could occur more frequently if you pretended the game of truth or dare made you feel like you’re falling behind.

***

“You’re an idiot.”

“Thanks, Neito. Care to offer any solutions?”

“No,” Monoma said, bending back over his laptop, “but I’ll start searching for other Shinsou Hitoshis so that you can kick their asses.”

You gestured for him to keep it down, jerking your head in Eri’s direction. She was watching Monoma’s Japanese-dubbed, extended edition of The Fellowship of the Ring, holding her unicorn-kitten doll in her lap, sitting atop the booster seat cushion for her spot on Aizawa’s couch. “If Aizawa-sensei hears Eri swearing, he’ll blame us.”

“Not my—” He cut himself off, wincing. “You’re right. I’ll keep the cursing to a minimum. But if you murder any other Shinsou Hitoshis that exist, then, de facto, he’ll no longer have a soulmate, and you can get with him.”

You sighed, sinking into one of Aizawa’s worn armchairs. “I’m not gonna resort to violence.”

Pursing his lips, Monoma shut his laptop for dramatic effect. “But you’ll resort to compromising your morals and fucking him.”

“Keep quiet,” you said, swatting at Monoma and missing, “I’m not gonna—how else am I—”

“I just don’t think you should.”

“I’m not gonna have—have sex with…”

Monoma sucked in through his teeth, reaching into his bag of trail mix. “You’re not emotionally ready,” he said, shaking his head, “If you added sex to the stuff you’re going through right now, you’d explode.”

“I know that,” you said, slumping down in your seat. You shot a mournful look towards Monoma, and you held out your hand for trail mix. “I…I don’t wanna have sex at this point in my life. I just don’t think it’s—I want to do it eventually, yeah. But not right now. I’m tired.”

He tilted the bag into your hand, shaking some out. “I understand. Why don’t you say fuck the soulmate shit and be with Shinsou regardless?”

“I don’t wanna take any shred of happiness from him,” you said, crunching, “If he has a chance at happiness with his soulmate, he deserves it.” You swallowed thickly. “I’m guilty as hell for wasting his time like this, but I admit that I’m selfish. I want him all to myself.” You picked through the mix you had in your palm. “I feel horrible about it,” you said softly, “but if I want to keep his attention in these sessions, I think I have to up the ante, at least a little.”

Grimacing, Monoma shoved his hand in the bag of trail mix. “Who put that in your head?”

***

YOU

want to try sexting????

HITOSHI 💜🍡

no <3

***

Against Monoma’s advice, you were going to make a move on Shinsou under the false pretences of soulmate preparation. Which, you supposed, wasn’t too different from what you’d been doing, but now you were deceiving him.

Shinsou could always notice when you were nervous or insincere in person, so you resolved to do it over the phone. Building up the courage to call him took half an hour of staring at your phone, face down on your bedspread, the whole decision-making process taking longer than usual, because the person you’d usually consult for advice was the very person you were going to call.

When you finally unlocked your phone and pressed the call button on his contact, your fingers darted to turn on the speaker, and you tossed your phone towards the foot of your bed, skibbling backwards away from it as if it were a slippery lizard you’d found in your sheets.

Six trills of the dial tone later, Shinsou answered, fumbling his phone, by the sound of it, and out of breath. “Hello?”

God, his panting reverberating throughout your dorm room made your heart race, and you needed to be in control for what you’re about to say. You scrambled to pick up your phone to switch off the speaker and hold it to your ear. “Hi, Hitoshi.”

“Yeah, hi.” With his rumbly, winded voice low in your ear, it was as if he were standing next to you, instead of near a busy street, judging by the rush of cars passing in the background and the skid of tires. “What’s up?”

Okay. You are strong and brave, and you can do this. You can and will be this ridiculous man’s personal whore in the name of love. “Hitoshi,” you said, letting a whine creep into your voice, “When are you coming home? I need you.” Hopefully, he couldn’t hear your cringe when you said those things.

You could, however, hear his frown when he spoke. “I,” he said, pausing, and you could easily picture the crease between his eyebrows, “I’ll be home soon. I’m out on my bike. What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”

“A little. I don’t know quite what’s wrong with me, but I really, really miss you, so much, and I need you to come home now so that I—fuck.” You took a slow, controlled breath, and when you came back down, words that weren’t your own spilled out of your mouth, pulled from somewhere deep inside you—as if they were a surfacing whale carcass from the Mariana Trench of your stomach (the loose script Monoma had helped you draft lay forgotten). “’Toshi, I’ll be real with you. I need something in my mouth. I need your strong hands spreading my thighs. I need your mouth on my boobs, licking and sucking up until you can bite the side of my neck. I need to watch you touch yourself, to see how you make yourself feel good and learn how I can do the same. It’s a side of you I don’t know. It’s a side you haven’t let me in. I need to know what all you’re capable of, because I know you’re capable of teaching me, of corrupting me, and I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Three cars honked in quick succession in the background while Shinsou stayed silent. “Who put you up to this.”

“Nobody. No one can tell me what I want. And I want all of you.”

“Bullshit. That’s fucking bullshit. Tell me who’s been pressuring you to have sex. You wouldn’t want this with me otherwise.” Shinsou wasn’t panting anymore. His voice was stony and flat.

“Is it that hard to believe that I want you of my own volition?” you asked, and you covered yourself with your throw blanket, burrowing out of sight, even though he’s halfway across town. “Are you saying I’m not capable of making this decision?”

“No,” Shinsou said, “I simply don’t think you would. It’s—it doesn’t line up with what I know about you.”

That’s fine. That’s why you have a fake motive. “I’m tired of being so far behind the rest of our friends. It makes me feel so small and immature, hearing them talk about things I haven’t experienced, and the game we played at the club proved how far beyond me they are.” You swopped your phone to your other ear so that you could lie down on your preferred side, and you snuggled into one of your stuffed animals. “I—I don’t want my soulmate to be embarrassed by me or unsatisfied with what I can do. I just want to be good enough. You’re my lifeline, Hitoshi. You can give me what I can’t give myself.”

“Fuck off with that. Soulmates aren’t—hold on. My helmet’s getting in the way.” Rustling and the click of a strap, and Shinsou’s voice came in more clearly—and he overenunciated each syllable, signalling that he was growing livid. “Soulmates aren’t all about sex. Life isn’t all about sex. I’ve been holding back the entire time we’ve been dealing with this soulmate shit, because telling you what I really think only bounces the fuck off your stubborn ass: I honestly think what you’ve been doing with me in the name of your soulmate is fuckin’ psychotic. Everyone lives a different timeline; there’s no standard for when a so-called life event is supposed to happen, if it happens at all,” said Shinsou, “You can graduate university at 90 and have your first kiss at 45 and learn to ride a bike when you’re 23. It’s fine if you never check all the boxes. You’ve never been behind. You are your own, on your own path, at your own pace. So, please, don’t rush into love, baby.”

Baby. He called you baby. He’d done it before, but now, you craved it. You cherished it. You could pretend it was real. “If you really thought it was a bad idea,” you said, eyes fluttering shut, entertaining the thought of Shinsou being there with you, spooning you and calling you baby softly in your ear, “why—why did you go along with it? Why did you offer?”

Shinsou huffed into the phone, and the sound was familiar enough for you to picture his expression as he did it: pursed lips, scrunched nose, dark eyes. “Because otherwise, you might have gone to someone who might hurt you. Because when some people hear that there’s a virgin in a vulnerable position, depending on them, they can lose sight of the person in front of them, instead fetishizing the corruption of virginity, because—because do you know how much the idea of teaching a virgin how to love you and only you drips with sexuality? People go crazy, sweetheart. Virginity can—it can attract the wrong people, and it can repulse the wrong people. You shouldn’t be with anyone who sees something like that as a problem.”

God, he’s so nice. He’s so compassionate. You were arguing with Shinsou over, essentially, his decision to be kind to you. What a dependable fucker. Why can’t he be your soulmate? “So, you’ve been holding back from telling me all of this. Anything else you’ve been holding back? Any other information, or—or in how you’ve been touching me. Are you one of those virginity fetishists, Hitoshi? Have you wanted to touch more of me?”

“I’m not reducing you to a fetish, clearly, and—and you belong to someone else,” said Shinsou, sounding like he was gritting his teeth, “If I were your soulmate, then I would allow myself to want more from you. But I’d only do it if you wanted it—for real, not whatever you’re doing now—because I’m not a selfish bitch.” Each word sounded like it had to fished out of his stomach with a barbed hook. “I can fucking wait for you, because I wouldn’t ever want you to be fucking scared around me for any reason, and I’ll keep waiting. I don’t mind. You’ve got the rest of your goddamn life for all of this.”

Welp. Shinsou was more upset than you meant for him to be, but perhaps this conversation would frustrate him enough to kiss and suck at your neck during a movie when he returned. “Then come home and touch me, Hitoshi. Fucking do it. I want you to. Stop holding back.”

“No. No, I won’t. I—something’s up with you. You’re not acting like yourself, and—and it’s pissing me off. You don’t know what you’re asking for, and you can’t really mean it. You’d never want me. You’re being a goddamn brat,” he said, and you could picture him running a hand back through his hair, mouth twitching, scowling, “Is that what this is? Does my precious baby girl wanna be punished? Seems like you want something drastic. I can give you that. Listen up: I’m about halfway through my bike route. Go to my room. In my bedside table, there’s a toy I’ve chosen for you. Originally, it was gonna be used months down the line, but since someone can’t watch that bratty mouth of hers—when I get back to the school, I’d better find you fucking yourself with it.”

“Wait, what?” You snapped upright, the blanket pooling around your waist.

 “You heard me, you lying little minx. I’m not going to lift a finger for this punishment. You’re doing it all by yourself.”

What the fuck. “Why are you being so mean?”

“Why? Are you getting wet?” Shinsou scoffed into the speaker. “Key’s in the usual place. Get to it,” Shinsou said, and he hung up.

Numbly, you lowered your phone to your lap, staring as the screen returned to your home wallpaper.

Uh. That’s. That’s a bit more extreme than kissing your neck. You supposed…you supposed that you should do what he said, lest he get even angrier.

You went to his dorm. The fake cactus you’d given him rested on the windowsill, bathed in sunlight, and after a quick check to the soil—moist—you permitted yourself a smile. You dropped it when you opened the top drawer of his bedside table, but you hid the toy under your shirt and dashed back to your room before you or anyone else could get a good look at it.

Locking the door behind you, you pulled the toy out from underneath your shirt. New in the package, so that alleviated any worries about sabotage. You cut it open, and silicone cock dropped into your lap. It’s a pale blue, almost translucent thing, and it’s five and a half inches, according to the packaging. For a moment, you were insulted at the size, because didn’t Shinsou think you could take something bigger? But then you remembered that you and what pussy would be taking it, so. That’s fair. There doesn’t seem to be anything special about it—no suction or vibration or anything. Just a fake dick.

How do you even prepare for this? You changed out of your pants into a semi-short skirt, deciding you still wanted to be somewhat covered, and you tossed your underwear to the foot of your bed. While you were laying down a towel, you briefly considered if you should put on that virgin English song by Madonna. Not English English, but—wait, was Madonna from England? Or another English-speaking country?

You’ve masturbated before, of course; you’re not an idiot, but you’ve never—you sighed, cringing at the five and a half inches—taken something this long or wide inside you (which aspect would be more trouble?). Lying on your bed atop the towel, you held the dildo up to the light, blue specks of glitter shining through. You parted your legs and rubbed the tip through your folds, completely bone-dry, feeling inadequate and ashamed that you couldn’t get turned on, worried about Shinsou and what was going through his mind, and Madonna was from America, from a place called Bay City in the state of Michigan but was raised around Detroit, and you couldn’t focus on getting aroused or anything, so though you were circling your clit, it wasn’t doing anything for you, and the tip of the dildo could barely make it inside you, not even passing the first ring of muscle. Using the head, you gathered what slickness you could, even teasing and prodding your clit with the rubbery material before trying to work the head past the first, tense ring, but the stretch of it burned, entrance strained and stinging, while your feet slid against the towel and blanket, trying to give you extra traction to get it in—and it slipped out of you entirely, the head bouncing as it flopped to lie flat on the towel between your legs. Jaw clenched and eyes watering, you were flooded with a hot rush of embarrassment. If you can’t take this, how would you ever take Shinsou’s cock?

Time passed without your noticing, but it felt like no time at all before you could feel yourself drying out, even though you were never that wet to begin with. Collapsing back and staring at the ceiling, you took a deep breath and smoothed down your skirt, wanting nothing more than to go back to before you made the phone call, but you’ve dug your own bed, so now you have to grave/lie in it.

But you couldn’t get it inside you.

You fished the dildo out from underneath you, and to your surprise, the cockhead had turned a light lilac at the wet heat between your legs, and it was slowly fading back into blue. Okay. You got it. Another phone call would further your cause. Dread building, you called him again, and he picked up after a single ring, quiet. “Hitoshi?”

“Yeah?”

A short reprieve of relief passed through you at his calm inflection, but it left when you braced yourself for what you had to say. “I—” Goddammit, steam would be coming out of your ears if you grew the tiniest iota more embarrassed. “I can’t get it in.”

Though only a few painful, prolonged seconds elapsed, the silence that followed felt long enough for you to have listened to Madonna’s entire discography. Eventually, a careful, resigned-sounding Shinsou said, “Would you like me to give you instructions over the phone, or do you want me to come over?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see, and said in a small voice, “I think you should come over.”

“Right,” he said, “Give me three minutes.”

Two minutes later, you were opening your door for him. Freshly showered with damp, partially fluffed hair (he must not have put in his mousse yet), Shinsou rushed to hug you before you could lift your hand off the doorknob, his muscular, still wet-warm arms wrapping around you with great fervent, pinning your own arms to your sides, and he tucked his chin into the crook of your neck, mouth half on your shirt and half on your skin.

“Oh, baby,” he said, his nose scrunching against you while he smushed you against him, getting your own shirt damp, “You don’t have to do any of this. I’m so, so sorry. I was inexcusably angry, and I didn’t—I leant into hard dom mode because I froze up and didn’t know how to react, and being a hard dom comes easily for me. You didn’t have to—I was terrified. I’m sorry.”

“No, I—I wanted to be good for you. I wanted to be so good,” you said, and Shinsou pulled back enough to look at you, his hands on your waist (!!!), and he gasped softly when he caught your drying tear lines. “Because I was being unfair to you. Being a brat. Pushing you.” You sniffed, closing your eyes as Shinsou cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a fresh tear. Two more ran down your face before you managed to get out, “Help me make it fit?”

Shinsou avoided your eyes by moving to your bed while retrieving the small, squeeze bottle of lube from his back pocket. You winced when he picked up the dildo, since the head was still slick and purple, and he twisted it around, looking it over, while he sat on your bed against the wall, legs outstretched across your bed. “I see you didn’t get very far.”

“Shut up; it’s dried off,” you said, one knee on your bed, wrinkling the towel, “And so what if I’ve got a tiny vagina. It means you can indulge in any size kink shit you have going on with your massive, monster dong.”

“Don’t fucking say it like that,” Shinsou said, laughing a bit but refusing to meet your eyes, and he patted his thigh for you to sit. “You probably didn’t warm yourself up well enough.”

Good. Good. So far, it had been unfolding comfortably, like an average hangout, ish, but when you swung your leg over Shinsou’s lap to straddle him, everything became much realer. Heavier. Both of you tensed up, with you hovering above his lap, really, instead of putting your weight on it, and when your skirt rose up a hair, you flattened it back down. “Warm me up, then.”

The shock in Shinsou’s widened eyes reflected your own. Where had that come from? “I don’t think I should,” he said, his fists bunched in your bedding.

“Hitoshi,” you said, shifting farther up his hips but still hovering, “I want you to be the one to stretch me out.” You did a very good impression of a completely calm, normal person as you held up the dildo. “Should I—should I lick it first, or something? To make it easier?”

Shinsou made a noise that sounded like a combination of coughing and choking. “No, uh. Natural—natural lubrication. Would be best. First,” he was saying as you guided his cold, trembling hands to your thighs, “Let’s. Let’s try that. First. If that’s okay.” His touch was so light that you barely felt it, so you pressed down on his hands, his fingertips indenting in your skin, and you nodded, letting him know it was okay. Watchful for your approval, he hesitantly smoothed long strokes down your thighs.

“That’s fine. It’s—it’s what I called you over for,” you said, losing brain cells when you noticed how much of your thighs Shinsou’s large hands could hold, “Touch me? I trust you.”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll.” He swallowed visibly, spit audible. “I’ll keep your skirt down so that you don’t have to show me anything; you’ll be safe. I won’t—I won’t take advantage of you. You’re safe with me. Why don’t you—” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you put your hands on my shoulders to steady yourself?”

Going a step further, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leant in, holding him close, shoving your nose in his neck, getting struck with some sort of fruity scent (pears?), and arching up as an afterthought to give him better access, your skirt riding up to reveal just the slightest curve of your ass.

Shinsou rubbed your thighs twice more, the second time allowing his fingertips to dip under the edge of your skirt before running back down your thighs. He then slowly drew his shaking hands up in parallel all the way up to your hips, his fingertips pressing into the swell of your ass and his thumbs sliding into the line where your thighs met your—

“Holy shit,” said Shinsou, snapping his hands back as if he’d been scalded, “You’re—you’re not wearing anything.”

You clenched around nothing at the crack in his voice. You were about to ask him if he typically wore his underwear while masturbating, but you found that you couldn’t get your mouth to work.

“Hold on,” Shinsou was saying, and you leant back, dragging your arms from around his neck to rest on his shoulders, “I need a minute.” He closed his eyes, pressing his thumb and index fingers against them, biting his lip, clonking his head back against the wall.

Saliva building in your mouth and thighs about to give out, you eased your weight onto Shinsou’s lap—and his breath hitched the moment your bare cunt pushed against his cock, achingly hard and bulging in his sweats.

“Good Lord, have mercy,” said Shinsou, opening his eyes to half-lidded and dragging his hand down his face, a flash of alarm reaching his eyes when his hips involuntarily bucked up into yours (probably at the wet gush that had dripped onto him). The movement had shot arousal from your clit all the way up to the back of your throat, so you tried to roll your hips against him, mimicking his motions. Shinsou stopped you, his hands shooting to your thighs to still them. “No, you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” he said, breathing hard, “I am honoured you’d even let me touch you.”

Honoured? You scowled when Shinsou buried his face in his hands, because you’ve had enough of his casual comments here and there that he’s not worthwhile. That he’s not worth loving. That no one would ever want him. Ha, as if it were possible you couldn’t want him. Shinsou has always looked at you with a tenderness that ached. He knew you and valued you and saw you, just as you truly were, and didn’t ask for anything more. How could you ever love anyone else?

From this angle, the sag of his sleeve revealed the final syllable of his name written on his wrist.

So, you fucking did it. You grabbed his wrists to move his hands out of the way and kissed Shinsou. It was probably a bad, desperate kiss, since you didn’t know what you were doing (probably too firm?), but the way Shinsou sighed into it made up for the wave of insecurity. The moment when his shoulders slackened, you celebrated in your head, relishing how his cold, coconut-pear lips were just warming up, but Shinsou shuddered and pulled away, pushing at your shoulders.

“What are you doing? Weren’t you saving that for your soulmate?” asked Shinsou, spluttering and panicked, “It’s just me. You wasted it on me.”

“I didn’t waste it. There is nothing just about you, Hitoshi. Listen, I—I don’t want things to change, but at the same time, I do. I’ve decided I don’t fucking care about my stupid, fucking soulmate. I don’t fuck with him. I want you.” You removed his hands from your shoulders to grasp both of them, closing some of the distance he’d creating by scooting nearer to him—cracking a smile at the way his dick twitched when you inadvertently grinded on him. “I think I always have. You are lovable and witty and kind; you look at me and handle me with gentleness to the extreme. I will never connect with anyone like the way we do. No one is like you, Hitoshi.”

His hair was fluffing back up, and based on his expression, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was being electrocuted. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“My soulmate is probably a bastard, anyway,” you said, jerking your head to the side, “and your soulmate—I can’t stand the thought of losing you. I want to be the closest to you forever, or as long as you’ll have me. It terrifies me that someone else could get between us. I want you to take all my firsts; I want you to be the only one who ever touches me—”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Shinsou was saying, muffled behind the fist he’d brought to his mouth, the tips of his ears flaming red, “Baby, please don’t say things like that to me. You’ll give me hope.”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry for ruining our friendship like this, but I’m in love with you. I love you. I always have, without even knowing. And I always fucking will, even if some bastard soulmate shows up someday. I choose you. You’re what I want, every day for the rest of my life, and I wanna be yours.”

Shinsou sighed, shoulders heaving as he embraced you, holding you tightly. “Don’t worry about ruining our friendship; I did that already. I got caught in my own damn capture weapon the day Tainted Love attacked. I could’ve stopped her if I hadn’t. I could’ve prevented all of this. We could have kept going, keeping a tender distance, so neither of us would be…burdened.”

“Fuck you and your conception of being a burden—”

“And I have a hunch who your soulmate is,” said Shinsou, deflated as he pulled away.

You blinked. “You what?”

“I’m evil and sinister and foul for keeping it from you. But I—I talked to Tainted Love. Got some help. I think I know.”

“I don’t need to know,” you said, lifting your hand to hold his cheek, and his eyes fluttered shut, his light purple lashes contrasting against his skin.

Shinsou leant into your palm, looking like the world had been taken off his shoulders, but he furrowed his brow and opened his eyes, his jaw shifting. “I’m not going to tell you how I feel until you know who it is.”

“Hitoshi,” you said, grinning weakly, “I’m pretty sure I already know how you feel.”

Shinsou took your hand, sliding it off his face and held it palm up, and he traced over the lines with his middle and ring fingers. “I don’t think I should tell you until you know your soulmate.”

“Fine, then. Enlighten me.”

“You sure? I’m evil and sinister and foul,” Shinsou said again, dodging when you moved to flick his forehead for debasing himself, “and I’m about to get even worse.” He ran his tongue over his lower lip, eyes flicking to yours. “There’s one way to figure it out for certain. Do you trust me?”

“I tried to impale myself on a fake cock for you. What do you think?”

Shinsou laughed, finally, easing into his crooked grin, turning a sad sort of bittersweet at the last second. “Remember the first time we met.”

It’s as if a ghostly hand was penetrating your mind, tracing back and back and back, through filing cabinets of memories, farther back than you could’ve reached yourself, exhuming parts of your past you’d forgotten that flashed by in hazy slideshows of photographs as it thumbed through manilla folders. When the hand appeared to startle in revelation, it slithered a shoddy file from its misplaced location, shoved sideways along the drawer vaguely labelled to be first semester, freshman year. When the hand was joined by its pair, you realised they were your own, and when you opened the file, you were plunged into the memory, set to relive it exactly.

God, you’re going to be late. You’re never late, and this way, Aizawa was going to get a bad impression of you and your standards. It’s not your fault that this follow-up to the Sports Festival was scheduled at the ass-crack of dawn, but—and you sucked in the morning air through your teeth, pulling your collar up to protect you from the wind—it was, admittedly, your fault that you’d stayed up late with Asui and Jirou. It’d been like a sleepover, almost, and you were loving the people your classmates were turning out to be.

What was this meeting for, anyway? All of the Sports Festival participants were invited, so it must be some sort of practical evaluation of your performances. Maybe how you can improve. But why did it have to be before school? Aizawa was crazy.

You skidded to a stop in front of the gym and swung open the door, and it creaked so loudly that fucking everybody stopped what they were doing to stare at you. Smiling nervously, you took a step inside.

Yamada shot you finger guns from his place atop a lump in a yellow sleeping bag. “WAY TO MAKE AN ENTRANCE! YOU’RE SO LATE, AND WE COULDN’T START WITHOUT YOU, SINCE WE’RE REVIEWING THE EVENTS IN ORDER! WE HAD TO GO AROUND AND SHARE FUN FACTS ABOUT OURSELVES!”

“I’m so sorry.” Any excuse you would’ve made wouldn’t’ve made up for your classmates’ suffering, so you didn’t offer one.

You scrambled to the back of the group, hunching in on yourself, and as soon as you found a place, you heard a scoff.

“Looks like the ice princess finally decided to grace us with her presence.”

Your jaw dropped, and you turned to face some purple, troll-haired bitch with bags under his eyes. Ah. You knew this guy. He’d scoped out Class A before the Sports Festival and insulted your new friends to their faces. That sort of jackassery would not be tolerated by you, so you’d adopted a rather cold, defensive front to anyone outside of Class A for the time being, presuming they felt the same. Oh, yes, you remembered this guy, above all others shunning your class.

You scowled back, the corner of your mouth twitching, and you spoke with disdain. “Shinsou Hitoshi.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but both of you snapped towards the front when Yamada clapped and began yelling again.

You were ripped out of the memory by the softest orgasm you’ve ever had, gentle and washing through your body like a bathtub overflowing; you found yourself held snugly by Shinsou’s arms, clutching you to his chest, while your hips grinded against him, arousal seeping out of you and soaking the fabric over his pulsing cock.

Gasping, you kissed the side of his neck, and he shuddered. “Hitoshi.”

“You’re back?” Shinsou raised a hand from your lower back to stroke your hair, pulling away to smile at you. “You were under for a while,” he said, and he slowly, deliberately, rolled his hips into yours. “Seems like you had a good time. Started grinding on me all by yourself. I tried to stop you, but you—” He broke off, grinning and shaking his head. “You moved to suck at my neck, and I fucking shattered.” He tapped a spot, spit reflecting in the light.

“There’s no mark, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you said, and you slumped against him. “Thank fucking God. I’m so glad that it’s you. I wanted it to be you. I was ready for it to not be, but I’m so fucking relieved.”

“Excellent,” said Shinsou, lifting your chin by tapping the underside of it, “because I love you so fucking much.” Cradling the back of your head, Shinsou pulled you into a fervent kiss, desperate and firm as you’d been at first, but softening when you parted your lips a little, and the subsequent slide of his tongue against yours made your head buzz with pleasure, doubling when he let out a needy groan.

“Oh, my God, you’re fucking perfect,” you said, breaking off to breathe, and he chuckled, resting his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and pressing his lips to your bare skin there. “Wait. You used your quirk on me. I don’t know what you’re on about, Hitoshi; it felt incredible.”

“That would be the orgasm you just rode out on my thigh, sweetheart,” he said, nuzzling into you, cold and hot at the same time.

“No, it was something different, too, something I felt when Neito used your quirk on me. It feels—it felt like you were holding me, unbearably fond and full of compassion.”

Shinsou blinked, his eyelashes brushing against your neck. “Well. I’ve never heard my quirk described as something affectionate. If it’s like that way for you, then I’m glad.” He took a deep breath, the exhale fanning over you, and he pressed his lips to your neck, letting them linger, softly puckered, before speaking again.“I’m so fucking glad I don’t have to dance around my feelings anymore with the dumbass teaching sessions. I’m out of practise, anyway, since I stopped doing them for anyone else a long time ago; you caught me being evil, right? When I allowed myself to be me instead of the dom I moulded myself into.”

“I noticed,” you said, bringing a hand up to scratch the base of his scalp, and he fucking moaned. After a brief pause, you continued, feeling powerful and loved. “But good. Good. I was—I was scared of going further, but I didn’t know how else to keep you acting all romantical with me. I don’t wanna have sex with you. Yet. I’m not ready.”

“I know,” he said, and you felt his grin as he pressed a light kiss to your neck, once, twice. “I don’t wanna have sex with you, too.”

“How romantic.”

“You know what I meant,” he grumbled, blowing cold air over the slight wet spots he’d left, and you shivered with a laugh. “I will wait however long you need to. I’m in no rush.” He propped his head sideways on your shoulder, looking up at you. “To be honest, I know I wouldn’t last, even if we did. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna come the moment I touch your sweet cunt.”

“How romantic,” you deadpanned again, Shinsou’s huff tickling you, and your fingers curled into his soft hair. “But yeah. I love you. And now—now we can be sincere about it. Real. We don’t have to hold back anymore.” You gently guided Shinsou up so that you could cup his face and smile at him, lips close enough to suggest another kiss. “You can love me with everything you’ve got.”

Face framed by your hands, Shinsou looked like he was in the clouds. “That I can do.”

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz, @kissmebakugou, @pachiibatt, @celestair, @tiredkittykat, @cheshireshiya, @90s-belladonna, @infjsnightmare

[mintmatcha]

mint you can't just drop this and not expand for ARAN the loml

The door doesn't have a chance to slam behind you.

"Hey." Aran hurries down the sidewalk after you, tugging his jacket on as he jogs. Your jacket is still sitting on his bed with the rest and you already regret leaving it behind. "Hey."

The man manages to skirt around you, blocking your way. His mouth is contorted into a half grin, half grimace with his eyebrows tweaked up and together, as if he couldn't possibly understand why you're in the street right now.

"Atsumu said you were leaving." He smiles with those perfect, white teeth and those pretty brown lips and it makes your blood boil that he dares to be so effortless. "What's wrong?"

He smells like spiced cologne, something expensive and tasteful. You taste a hint of it when you push past. "I can't deal with you right now."

"What did I do?" he matches your stride, breath coiling into the air as he talks, "If there's something I did-"

"You're just so-- so--" You clutch the air, trying to find words to sum up your multitude of feelings and failing. You settle for the first words that tumblr into your mind and out of your mouth. "You're so fucking annoying."

Aran's gait stutters.

"Me?" he asks genuinely, "I'm annoying?

"Yes, you, Mr. Perfect." You slip your thumb into the back of your heel and pop it off, then the other. The city street's ice cold grit digs into the pad of your foot and you grimace. The walk home is going to be disgusting. "You're so sweet and hot and smart-"

"You think I'm hot?"

"Oh, like you don't know that everyone wants you," you seethe, "Add humble on top of everything. God, it's so aggravating! And you don't even try!"

Aran barks out a laugh, then swallows it back.

"Are you kidding?" Aran says, voice the edge of a chuckle again, "I try so// hard."

That puts a pause in your step. Everything about Aran has always been so effortless, from the way he walks to the way he acts. Every rounded edge of who he is always felt so genuine...

"Oh, please," you dismiss.

"I try all the time! I try constantly!" he sighs, "I follow fashion influencers, I work out every day, I haven't had a beer since I was eighteen, even though I really like like beer-- I even threw a party to impress you, and it clearly didn't work-"

"To impress me?" You try to stay angry, but the boiling inside you is fizzling out, "Why would you do that?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" Aran takes a deep breath, stabilizing himself, "I like you! Oh my god, I like you so much that it makes me look stupid!"

What? Your cheeks are suddenly burning from the attention. Aran suddenly starts pacing back and forth across the width of the sidewalk, eyes locked to the ground as he starts to ramble.

"I went to buy you flowers because that's what guys do, they buy flowers, but one bouquet didn't seem like enough, so I panicked! I panicked! I bought two-- but then I realized I was walking around with two bouquets of flowers like a weirdo and then you made that face-" he finally pauses to take a breath, "That face! Right there! And I couldn't tell you the truth, so I told you they were for my mom and Mrs. Miya! Because I was embarrassed!"

A smile creeps up at the corner of your lips and Aran immediately notices.

"Don't laugh at me!" He points, even though a matching smile is sneaking onto his face, "I'm just a little anxious!"

"You're full-blown neurotic!" You pop into a full-blown guffaw and he follows suit. In the empty city street, the echo of the train carried through the alleys, you both laugh, much, much, harder than you should. By the time you both simmer down, Aran is much closer, the tails of his coat brushing against your leg.

"I'm sorry," he says, soft.

"No, it's-- I'm sorry." You have to try and figure out how you're feeling right now, "Honestly, this side of you is really charming."

"You think that's charming?"

"It's... it's human," you shrug, "I like that."

He reaches out and then hesitates, hand barely past his side. You, despite yourself, despite everything, reach out at loop your pointer around his. Surprise sets into his features, then a hint of joy.

"And here I thought you were hard to impress," he says, "Why don't we...? Can we start again? From the beginning?"

You nod.

"Hey, my name's Aran, nice to meet you." He squeezes your finger lightly, "It's freezing out here, do you want to head inside?"

"I don't usually go home with strangers." Aran squeezes harder at your teasing, "But I'll make an exception if you'll share a beer with me."

"My nutritionist says I really shouldn't-" he smiles and you notice his teeth aren't as perfect as you originally thought. There's a sliver of a gap between his front teeth, "But I can make an acception."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

diasomnia ice-cream parlor au doodles

[Referencing this post!]

Hello, yes, I’ve been thinking about the Diasomnia ice-cream parlor AU again 🍨🍦 I guess I must have been really hungry lately www

I see them as offering not just ice-cream, bur also variants like gelato, shaved ice, milkshakes, etc. (They can afford it with support from the Draconia royal family’s funds 😂) The focus here will be ice-cream though, just because that’s Malleus’s favorite.

Imagine walking in and not knowing what to order (there’s so much to choose from!), so you ask the staff to pick something for you… (Yes, I’ve thought about this way too much and now I’m going to shovel this at you—)

Malleus strikes me as a very traditional and old-fashioned guy, so I’d see him falling back on ol’ reliable. You can’t go wrong with a classic sugar cone and a healthy scoop on top!

He recommends mint chocolate chip because it adds an additional pleasant cooling sensation to the actual coldness of ice-cream. Malleus is fond of the flavor himself; it’s great for cooling down a mouth that’s hot from breathing flames!

You’re brave if you accept anything Lilia hands you… You ask him what this is (the ice-cream looks… discolored in some places, and there’s all this weird stuff jutting out from it; is that a piece of lettuce???). He just winks at you and calls it “Lilia-chan’s Super Cute ⭐️ Special”, featuring a bunch of “unique” flavors he created himself.

It comes served in a cup because it’s easier to eat it while walking that way. For Lilia, who is a well-seasoned traveler, foods that are able to be eaten on the go are a plus!

Silver picks out a waffle bowl (it resembles a sturdy bird’s nest) and encourages you to try a lot of different things. It’ll help you to gain an appreciation for the new and unfamiliar! With how wide the waffle bowl is and how many flavors and toppings are in there, this can be good for sharing with friends from all over.

The particular version featured in the doodle has three kinds of ice-cream, each one representing one of the three Good Fairies. A pink flavor, a blue flavor, and a green flavor—maybe rose or strawberry, blueberry or cotton candy, and pistachio? It’s a very naturey palate.

His animal friends have helped with the ingredients; there’s honey drizzled on top, as well as crushed nuts. Freshly picked berries and edible flowers garnish the bowl too—oh, and we can’t forget a generous chunk of honeycomb!

… I don’t know much about Kingdom Hearts, but I’ve heard that Silver resembles Riku from KH?? So maybe Silver can offer some sea salt ice-cream too as a throwback 😂

… Was anyone surprised by this? No? No.

Sebek chose a tall parfait glass for serving so that the dessert can be as tall as possible. It’s a matcha and ube soft serve, swirled high. The green is Diasomnia’s color, and the purple is meant to be the color of the underside of Malleus’s cape. (Sebek wanted to include black ice-cream to for the Draconia royal color, but couldn’t find a good flavor.)

Art isn’t his forte, but Sebek did his best to “recreate the imposing, elegant image of wakasama” in his dessert. The cherry on top, flanked by two conical chocolate pieces, are meant to be Malleus and his horns. The wafer poking out is supposed to “enhance the young master’s presence”. All the other things are extra details in an effort to make the ice-cream larger than life: candied fruit peels arranged in a line (to resemble the spines on a dragon’s tail), mochi balls (“magestones”) piled to one side, and a chocolate biscuit stick + wafer that, together, look like Malleus’s staff.

Sebek tried really hard! … He will aggressively try to sell you on this item.

If you’re really hungry or with a large group, why not go for the Diasomnia Family Fundae? It’s their take on a sundae, served in a glass boat. There’s a whole banana, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and three maraschino cherries! The bramble is made of dark chocolate.

Each student is represented by one scoop and a little candy or chocolate that helps to characterize the boy (horns, bat wings, lightning bolt, or sword). Sebek is a lemon-like sherbet, befitting of his loud, in-your-face personality. Lilia is a bright red berry flavor (strawberries, cherries, cranberries, etc.), like his favorite red juices, deep and complex. Silver is vanilla bean, pure, simple, and earnest. (He could also be a subtle lavender flavor, since that's a flower known to ease you into sleep.) And Malleus… well, that scoop is a pitch black, but the flavor is something you can’t quite place your tongue on. It’s a mystery, just like he is! (Maybe the shop changes the flavor every now and again. They can run a promo where if you guess the right flavor combo for that particular week’s Malleus scoop, they give you a discount or a free cone.)

A lot of chocolate sauce is dripping down from the Malleus scoop; this is because the sauce is supposed to be his “blot”. The bottom three scoops—Lilia, Sebek, and Silver—are blanketed by the chocolate thorns as a reference to how those three were sentenced to sleep.

[sashi-ya]

HUNT YOU DOWN, EAT YOU ALIVE izumo haruichi x f! reader. voyeurism 「+18」

⋆ requested by: anon: congratulations on 8k followers my dear <3 how about haruichi w a f!reader + voyeurism. i’ve a feeling he’s secretly kinda freaky under that neat little facade ⋆tw: mdni. explicit smut. voyeuristic haurichi. masturbation. desperate to fuck you. ends up doing it on the dark ⋆wc: 1,7K // event masterlist

Mint locks cover spots of his eyes, those who watch the drops of sweat drip down your neck, down your spine.

He is always there; when you train, supporting you from the dark. When you sleep, and when you shower, that’s what he desires… to observe your hands going up and down your waist, with your hair getting wet, and your flesh purified.

But Haruichi -thinks he- is decent. He just likes to watch, not -at least until now- become a stalker.

Oh, but dear Mr. Izumo… are you really that sure?

The heat is unbearable. Your hair tie snaps.

“Damn it!” you hiss, being this hot under scorching sun with your hair down seems like torture.

“Have it ~” Haruichi mumbles, presenting before your eyes a sacred black elastic.

What kind of miracle is this?

“Ah… thank you Izumo-san! I will give it back as soon as we get a shower” you happily exclaim, as the relief device reaches your fingers. And, soon enough, puts your hair up in a pony tail.

Haruichi acts cool. Though, the imagery of you putting your hair up makes him thankful for his family creation; Izumo tecs suits don’t show erections.

He feels deeply ashamed, however, of sexualizing every step you take.

You, on the other hand, can’t think of anything else besides how good he looks with his hair down. There is no guilt in wanting the same most women around want; Haruichi Izumo is the most eligible bachelor. Not only he is hot and strong, but also he is the future heir of Izumo Tecs.

Hot and rich. Be mine, Izumo-sama.

In any case, even if his family business might be able to create it very soon, Haruichi isn’t able to read your mind. Your façade, innocent and tired from training can only make him even more guilty.

“You can keep it for as long as you want, (Name)-san” he says, swallowing with his throat dry after you squeezed his hand in friendly manner.

You give him a sweet smile, turning around to follow suit your Captain’s orders; being the Tachikawa base still under construction you have been transferred to a different one so you are all still learning about the installations.

Haruichi stands there, watching you join the group of women officers. The way your body looks with the suit on, makes him wanna rip him. His palm itches to squeeze, to slap your ass. His fingers, desperate, wish to be holding your waist. His teeth, crazy to be buried on your back flesh.

“Get a grip, Haruichi!” “I’m just tired…”

The sunset came faster than expected, and a night sky full of stars covered the whole nation. With no Kaiju alert, every officer had the chance to have a good meal as well as refreshing showers before sleep.

But there were a couple of recruits whose eyes despite being closed, couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that their bodies weren’t tired, indeed they actually were even more than that… but their brains couldn’t help it; both had each other images burned in the back of their minds.

A walk around the base would do; a canned iced coffee from that old machine will help with the heat. Caffeine never made you less sleepy anyway.

You realize that you lied to him; that black tie is now resting on your right wrist… You didn’t give it back. You smile discovering it still there. Your left index passing under, pulling a little bit from the elastic only to release it after. A tingling sensation invades your flesh, wishing that to be his hands squeezing your wrist to pin you down for a kiss.

Allowed to walk around in short shorts due to the heat, you put a show for two pair of eyes that bleed desire from the dark. Like a twist of fate, his emerald irises met your beautiful self in the middle of a dark hall of a still unknown new base.

Haruichi stands still; he is -or think he is- aware you aren’t of his presence. A debate of stormy qualities takes place inside of him; should he watch you, should he stalk you?

“Isn’t that a little bit on the criminal side, Haruichi?!” he repeats to himself. But he also can’t stop following the line of your bare legs, how those short shorts hug every inch of tasteful meat, how your now still a little wet hair falls on your back… and that tank top, that so shamefully allows your nipples to ghost through.

Haruichi bites his lips to the point of turning them white from the missing blood flow on them. Haruichi pulls from his front locks. Little physical reactions to a much-deserved punishment as he keeps on looking, as now his shorts do show an unstoppable hardness.

He looks at you play with his hair tie; he enjoys the way shadows cast on your profile as you drink that iced coffee… that weak white light coming from the vending machine reflects right in all your curves.

“If I were a bad man; If I were a sick bastard…” he susurrus. Haruichi is not, he won’t hurt you…

And you know that, but you want him to be bad; you want Haruichi to be sick… Because you’ve seen him, because you know he is there. But he doesn’t know, he doesn’t really know…

A drop, and suddenly a trail of iced coffee drizzles your tank top. Like those summer contest of wet t-shirts, you act dumb. Men are simple, men are addicted to shitty porn coded depictions.

Taking advantage of that weak spot light coming from the bending machine you show how much of your breasts are showing through now a completely shear fabric.

“Shit!” you whisper, loud enough for him to listen. Your palms graze against your chest, helping your nipples become harder. Acting like you are -stupidly- cleaning the stains off your body, you push Haruichi to a certain extent you are not sure how unhealthy might be.

Him, thinking his hideout is perfect, fights against the need of his hand reaching his crotch. Relief, I beg you please… give. me. some. relief…

He might not notice, but he definitely can be heard. Accelerated breathing, on the verge of panting. A hand over his shorts, already stain in precum. Desperate, Izumo Haruichi, has fallen.

You take the hair tie off your wrist and use it to tie your tank top up, right under your boobs. Low short shorts, belly exposed, nipples the shade of your lips protruding so tempting, casting shadows as you turn to full show yourself towards his way.

Haruichi’s hand going up and down, pumping his dick. Hungry, aching, yearning for his sticky palm to be your insides.

Your hips, moving softly side to side, like dancing to the melody of his huffs and “nghs”. Walking so slowly, almost deadly sedated pace towards him.

“Izumo-san, you like watching me? Do you enjoy this? Spying on me? Getting off on me while I’m not watching?” you purr, coming closer and closer to his hideout.

He doesn’t answer, but should he do it? Haruichi knows he’s gone too far, but can he stop it? can he stop relieving himself if your kissable lips ask him those things? Can he lie to you saying he doesn’t like what he sees?

“Tell me, Haruichi-kun… You enjoy touching yourself to this?” you ask, playing straight with your breasts; lifting slowly the wet coffee-stained shirt.

“I do, I do… I do...” he answers back, or maybe he growls. Like a beast, him losing everything for a drop of pleasure.

You scoff, letting the darkness of a training room in the middle of the night. Haruichi’s hand snatches you, covering your mouth with it as he pulls you inside.

“As much as I enjoy watching you, I much rather fuck you right here (Name)” he whispers right in your ear from behind. He has his hand pressed on your lower belly, pinning your back against his chest and sex.

“As much as I enjoy spying on you, to see your body from afar… I much rather have your skin all for me…”

You hum in consent, grazing your ass against his hardness. Him takes advantage of your little dance, humping right over your black shorts. He most probably wish to leave stains of his pace.

He turns you around when he is over with a dry humping -that’s above all anything but dry- that left him almost on the verge of climax once again. His lips clash with yours, a kiss done in the dark, a kiss that leaves you trembling from your waist down.

A kiss that becomes two and three, and your ass sitting right on a bench that’s most often used for training.

“You know, I just need to fuck you right here. I promise I will give you everything after, just let me fuck you deeper. Now…”

“Please, do… Haruichi-kun”

You are completely ok with his desperate ways; there will be time for foreplay… now you need him deep, oh so deep inside.

In total darkness, perhaps a faint reflection of the hall filters through, he pulls your shorts down. Not even the time to pull them completely off, as you feel one of the legs tangling on your ankle.

His fingers get absolutely covered with your juices, of a dripping wet sex desperate to be used. A few ups and downs, and some fingering took him to finally get you ready.

Oh, the image of his locks framing his face in between darkness, how they messy stuck to his forehead and temples covered in sweat…

A classic missionary will do for this, he is so well trained. Your legs are spread wide, the flowy white shirt of him tucked under his chin. Your hands land on sculpted abs, and then nails carve strongly on his forearms as he finally slides it in, raw and deliciously breaking you in half…  

It is by far ironic how he didn’t actually need to see to be able to touch and enjoy your body... when Haruichi is just a little voyeuristic man!

[iwannascreameurekaa]

pjo characters as quotes from my classmates, parents, siblings, and grandparents.

Yipee

Will: "does anybody need the heim-ill-ick?”

Hazel (prob to Nico): “i’ve never smoked… EVER. and if you smoke, i’ll hit you.”

Percy: “he looks like a street person?”

Leo: “i thought i got salt and pepper, turns out it was salt and salt.”

Piper: “i’ve never been attached to a cat.”  

Hazel: “The power of INTERNET👹”

Frank: “that was rude.” 

Percy: “every cat that doesn’t have a tail is named bobby.”

Piper: “just put your coins in your bucket.”

Jason: “if i was barbie, my feet would hurt all the time”

Nico: “it’s giving me skin cancer as we speak.”

Hazel: “she told me to give her when i die so i thought i might as well give it to her now.”

Piper: “did you steal my brush again? quit stealing my brush you little brush thief!”

Percy: “you’ve got 4 of grandma!”

Leo: “i’m a heavy drinker today” *takes a sip of his fourth glass of water*

Annabeth: “you squeezed her so hard she dropped a cheerio.” 

Leo: “and thoust asked if Jason was a cracker(a white person) and Jason replied”no i’m at least 2 or 3 whole crackers since there’s quite a bit more of me than you”

Hazel: "ohhhh my goodness don’t put your feet in her face.”

Leo talking about Piper: "she is a luddite, against technology, close with the Amish community."

Piper looking Leo and Jason directly in the eyes: “no dying allowed in here”

Percy after TOA: “if somebody wants to steal my car, i want them to steal it! not come in my house, shoot me, take my keys, and then take the car. LET ME SLEEP I DONT CARE!”

Will: “me and Nico go on dates to funeral homes”

Hazel: “you have a problem with a joint?” She was talking about her elbow 😭

Leo: “if i get hungry, rats will get skinned.”

Piper: “if this truck goes any slower it’ll have to put out a mailbox.”

Annabeth: “oh you stepped on the cow? well it’s better than the cow stepping on you”

Frank: “and it just sucked the carpet right up”

Hazel "back in my day" Levesque: “i had a lot of beagles when i was young, and finally i had one that lived.”

Leo: “are you looking for regular markies?”

Jason: “i’m gonna go to work tomorrow with a hangover.”

Will: “i’m not very artistic(autistic)”

Jason: “i never added salt to the pepper”

Piper: “keep your toes to yourself”

Piper: “you guys are an embarrassment.”

Jason: "can you pass the salt? i like my stuff salty”

Will: "The only Christian song I know is let it go" 

Context for the next one: my friend had a slick back high pony tail when we had this conversation so that gives you a visual of what Piper was

Leo "what's your next album gonna be called?"

Piper: "'my hair is straighter than my friend'."

Leo: 😦

Piper: "What in the gay man!"

Hazel: "If you stop being a karen then maybe you would actually be successful at life"

Piper: "You should start day dreaming about getting a husband"

Annabeth: "George Washington is the off brand version of me"

Hazel: "Ideas were such good ideas they became the symbol for ideas"

Leo: "did you mean lightbulbs"

Hazel: "..... yes"

Piper: "There's a fly on your butt" *waves at it and it flies away* "that's not your property sir"

Leo: "Yeah you gotta pay for that"

Nico: "Does he have a speech impediment?" 

Will: "He has a brain impediment"

Jason: "I bet he was having Funtime"

Piper: "why do you always say Funtime"

Jason: "I'm not saying sex!"

Leo prob to his tool belt: *suggestive voice* "give me that minty mint"

Leo to Hazel, who doesn't know what any modern slang means: "check it homeslice"

Hazel: "the gambling may run in the family, but at least pokers fun!"

Leo: "im a turkey... cock cock!"

that's all I have rn lmao

[playertwotails]

I like to think that after years of having to raise Tails from a super genius little kid to a slightly bigger super genius little kid, that Sonic just always has mint candies on him now.

He doesn't really like them but it's become habit to keep a few on hand from years of wanting to reward Tails with a treat or having to bribe Tails to listen to him when Tails had his very rare moments of acting his age tantrums. Buying them bulk was cheap and they were a pair of homeless kids and Tails loves them so he just auto buys some whenever he hits a new town, even if Tails isn't with him it's just habit at this point.

But now because he's so used to having them and giving them out, in any situation that someone does something cool or they're just on the way back from a mission, doesn't matter who it is he just auto hands them a mint. Doesn't even think about it just walks by and gives them a mint (He give Tails two cause that's his little bro' he deserves one more than everyone else)

[myymi]

If you had asked Sonic how he felt about being alone four years ago, he would've told you it was the most freeing feeling in the world.

It's not that he disliked people or didn't want to be around anyone. He had plenty of friends.

But there was something special about being able to run away from everyone and everything. He loved being able to disappear in the blink of an eye without worrying about someone trying to keep up with him.

He got to live his life the way he wanted. It was his favorite thing.

And then he met Tails.

He's always thought he wasn't fit to be part of a family. He had never been able to find someone who could even remotely keep up with him, so he didn't bother trying to find a family.

But Tails was able to keep up. And he did so without ever asking Sonic to slow down so he could. He was fine running on the hedgehog’s time, no matter how tired it made him.

And now, as he watched the red echidna bury the small coffin that held his little brother, he couldn't help but hate how alone he was now.

The guardian had been the one to offer a place on Angel Island for him. A small, secluded area that he had previously decorated for when the kid decided to come visit.

Of course he wasn't literally alone. Knuckles, Amy, Shadow, and the rest of their friends were all there to say their final goodbyes to the little fox. But that didn't change the fact that it felt like a part of himself died.

He didn't know it when he first met the fox, but it truly felt like Tails filled in a hole in his heart that he hadn't known was missing. But now that the piece was ripped out of him, it was easy to notice.

He wasn't sure how much longer he'd last without that fox. Everyone knew it, there was no Sonic without Tails. They were inseparable.

But they had been ripped apart. Whatever tether that held their unbreakable bond had been snapped, forcing them to go their separate ways.

He just wishes it was him who was forced to lay in a grave too soon rather than his baby brother.

Tails didn't deserve it. The poor kid had been fighting every sort of battle imaginable since the moment he was born and he was only eight.

The universe had no right to take him now. Not when he fought so hard to survive. Not when he gave every last piece of himself to protect it.

He could still feel the phantom traces of his brother's blood soaking into his fingertips. He could still see the way the life inside his big, blue eyes faded.

He could still feel the way the little strength that Tails held left his body, forcing him to let go of the person who promised to keep him safe as he bled out in his arms.

This was Sonic's fault.

—

Sonic wasn't sure why he ran.

To be perfectly honest, he hadn't even known he ran until he nearly greeted the Tornado with a very aggressive accidental kiss.

He wasn't sure what to do with her now. He could never be able to take care of the Tornado half as well as Tails did. And while he wasn't a bad pilot by any means, he knew he wasn't the best either. (That title went to the fox that now slept in the ground, his cold body protected by the dirt surrounding his coffin.)

He'd need to figure out what to do with the Cyclone as well. He didn't have a clue on how to pilot that one, it was quite a bit more complex than the Tornado.

After he was done sadly staring at the red biplane, Sonic hopped into the cockpit.

The lingering smell of mint is what finally broke him.

One of the few ways he could tell his brother was sneaking up on him was the way he smelled. It was always a migraine-inducing minty aroma, the scent of his favorite candy clinging to the fox's fur.

As strong as the smell was, it was comforting. It was how he reminded himself of the day he'd finally got that kid to believe he wasn't going to hurt him.

The first time that Tails ever had mint candy. Or, well, candy in general.

Sonic will never forget the way his eyes lit up, shining practically as bright as stars do when he put that first piece of candy in his mouth. And even though he was offered sweeter candies that kids his age normally enjoyed, he was firm in only eating the mint ones.

It was strange, but it was such a small thing then that it didn't really matter to Sonic. He didn't care what the kid liked to eat as long as he ate something. Even if it did have a painfully strong smell.

Sonic didn't bother with trying to wipe away his tears. Why should he, anyways? It was his brother's funeral for Chaos’ sake. He should be allowed to cry. (That didn't erase how pathetic and disgusted he felt. Did he really deserve to mourn his brother when he's the reason there's a funeral in the first place?)

He didn't get long to ponder it when something gently touched him.

It admittedly scared the shit out of him, but he knew exactly who it was before even looking towards them.

“I don't mean to interrupt your grieving,” Knuckles said guilty, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I wanted to let you know that you're welcome to stay on Angel Island with him.”

Sonic's not really sure if ‘staying with him’ is the right way to word this situation, but he's also not sure what the correct wording is so he decides to settle on a numb nod. He doesn't trust his voice to carry any sort of conversation right now.

Knuckles didn't say anything after that, but he also didn't move from where he was crouched atop the Tornado’s wing. The silence wasn't necessarily awkward, but it kept Sonic on edge.

“I know I'm not the best to talk to about emotions,” The echidna mumbled, running a paw through his quills as he spoke, “but I know what it's like to lose family. If you need help with grieving, you can ask.”

Despite the situation, Sonic managed to smile at the older mobian. He appreciated the offer a lot, and he knew he'd probably take him up on it whether he actually wanted to or not.

“I'll leave you be now.” The guardian said quietly before jumping off of the biplane’s wings. “If you wish to be alone from everyone, you can go into my cave.”

Sending the echidna a thumbs up made Sonic want to die. He was assaulted by the memories of when he and Tails first met the echidna. Back when he was unable to verbally speak, forced to hold conversations through expressions alone.

He wanted to scream, but his throat was throbbing from all the crying. He knows he should at least go see his friends, but he can't bring himself to look at any of them right now.

He decides to leave for Knuckles’ house when he feels his communicator buzz.

He gets to the cave on muscle memory alone, his mind occupied by playing the past four years on a sped up loop.

He felt insane. He would tell someone without a doubt that he's known Tails for forever, but it had only been four years since they met.

It wasn't until he collapsed on Knuckles’ bed that Sonic decided to check the message he received, not surprised to see it from Amy.

He didn't have it in him to fully read through the heartfelt message, but it was easy to understand from just skimming through it.

He figured responding to her message was the least he could do to keep her and the other from worrying about him right now.

He wasn't fine, and everyone knew that, but being around his closest friends and family wouldn't help right now.

The only thing that could help him was his little brother, but that wasn't in the cards for him. Not anymore. It's warm in the small cave, but Sonic still shivers as he curls into a ball.

He doesn't think he'll ever be warm again. Not when he felt his baby brother's body slowly grow cold.

[howlingday]

Hello Hollowing, my prompt is this: After team RWBY finds themselves in the Ever After, they are met by a small child happily waving and guiding them towards the Tree instead of a certain Cheshire cat. Soon they were guided to the tree, with a mansion carved within. With children that looked like recoloured versions of their guide happily waving toward RWBY. They meet Neo, and Jaune, the small older woman clealry pregnant, along with Mint, and Trivia, and a woman similar to neo called CC... basically I want Jaune to explain why he has a harem of Neos with constant flashbacks of each neo having babymaking sex with him. With CC requires everyone else to overcome her instability. Blame Fatally Obsessed. I do not know why I make statements instead of questions.

Ah, okay.

This is way less terrible than I thought it would be.

---------------------------------------------------

This world is weird. Like, super weird. No, but like, SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPER weird! Like, think of the weirdest thing you could think of, and it wouldn't be half as weird as what this was.

Okay, maybe not THAT weird, but it was weirder than Remnant, at least. Game pieces moved around, walking and talking like all the faunus and humans did back home. Not only that, but there were also talking animals, too! So yeah, this fairy tale world was weird.

But not as weird as what happened next.

"Hey! Over here!"

Team RWBY looked behind them and found a little girl waving at them. She had short, blonde hair, pale skin, and, as they got closer, blue eyes. Her dress was pink with a black sash wrapped around her belly.

"Um, hi?" Ruby awkwardly waved.

"Are you a Huntress?"

The question shocked the group. This was the first person they met in the Ever After, and she KNEW what a huntress is! Who was she?

"Um, ye-"

"Nilly!" A girl with long, brown hair ran up to the other girl and grabbed her wrist. Her dress was white with a pink sash wrapped around her belly, similar to the other girl. "We're not supposed to talk to strangers!"

"It's okay, Gats!" Nilly replied. "They don't look bad!"

"Don't you remember what Dad said?" Gats wagged her finger. "Looks can be decieving!"

"Um," Ruby stuttered, "we're not bad. Uh, y'know, if you wanted our opinion."

"She's right." Weiss added. "We're just trying to get to the tree."

"Oh! That's easy!" Nilly yanked her hand away. "Daddy can take you!"

"Daddy?" Yang asked.

"Mhm!" Nilly nodded. "Daddy is, like the best person to take you to the tree! He was up there before, y'know?"

"Nilly!" Gats chided. "They're bad guys!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

As the girls bickered, Team RWBY gave each other glances. This was very uncomfortable.

"Were we..." Ruby looked to her sister. "This bad?"

"Eh...." Yang shrugged. "Kinda?"

"Well, none of my siblings were like this." Weiss said with an unamused look.

"Pretty sure you're not as close with your siblings as Ruby and Yang were." Blake added. "It kind of makes me wonder what it's like."

"It's not great."

Suddenly, in the center of Team RWBY, stood a small girl with pink hair done in a ponytail, wearing a black dress with a white sash. She was so quiet, none of them heard her! As she walked to the other girls, they noticed she had a pink tail sway from under her dress.

"Nilla. Gats." She addressed the girls. "Mother's waiting for us." At this, the two girls stopped bickering. The leader looked at Team RWBY. "You come, too."

The little girl in the pink dress then walked forward, followed closely by the other two. Following the trio was Team RWBY. From a distance, a pair of eyes watched the seven girls curiously.

---------------------------------------------------

Neo sipped her tea, enjoying the quiet of the house. Her girls were out playing while her husband had left to run errands. They would all return before supper, as they always did. She looked down, admiring the one change to her otherwise routine life she'd made in the Ever After.

Every morning, she woke up, had breakfast, woke up her daughters, and then spent the rest of the day planning dinner. Tonight's dinner would be stewed vegetables.

"Ugh... Couldn't we have something with more meat?"

Neo cast a glare at the whining voice. The voice belonged to another Neo, though the voice was not quite her own. Instead, an annoying creature had taken residence in her body, wearing it like a coat, doing with it as they pleased.

"Oh, don't give me that look." The being replied with a roll of their neon-blue eyes. "Even Trivia is sick and tired of it!"

The woman in question, hanging clothes to dry outside, flinched. She shivered as Neo quirked a brow at her former self. She hid herself behind a wet sheet.

"Ow!" Mint, a disguise of herself used to infiltrate Beacon during the Vytal Festival with Cinder, flicked the being in Neo's ear. "Oh, I was not being mean to her!"

Neo hefted herself to her feet, hands to her back for support. Soon, it would be her turn to bring life into this world. She couldn't help but wonder what her child would look like. What mother didn't?

"Oh, and before you set the table," the being said, "we're going to have guests tonight. Four of them."

Neo eyed the being, unsure of what they meant. For all their schemes and plots, the creature wasn't a liar and often made use of their ability to see and hear things outside their home. If there were guests coming to visit, then there would be guests coming to visit. Neo would need more vegetables, and hands to pick said vegetables.

"Speak of the Grimm, as you say."

Neo looked to the door, and a tiny knock came from the other side. She opened the door, finding eight familiar faces.

"Mother." Greeted Berry with stoicism.

"Mommy!" Squealed Vanilla joyfully.

"Mom?" Called Gateau in concern.

Neo glared past her daughters to the four huntresses behind them. They swiftly reached for their weapons.

"Neopolitan?!" Litte Red exclaimed in her surprise.

"Of course she'd be here!" The Ice Queen growled.

"Is she pregnant?" The Kitty Cat asked.

"Guess she found someone dumb enough to knock her up." The Blonde Bimbo rudely remarked.

"Now that's just rude." All eyes focused on the timbre voice in the distance. A figure in rusted armor dismounted a large jackalope, named Juniper, and removed his helmet. Beneath was a ruggedly handsome bearded face with tired, blue eyes. He gave a chuckle. "Rude girls don't get dessert."

[eldritch-spouse]

Listening to Jayde vent about recent his work frustrations and offering to give him the sloppiest sucky wucky for compensation

" I think you're stressing out over nothing. "

Your lips wrap around the straw of the fancy caramel milkshake Jayde bought you, eyes focused on the bags under his, the way he keeps tapping at the table and seemingly mumbling to himself in infernal.

The imp sighs, trying to calm down, a fruitless effort if the constant batting of his tail on the chair's legs is any indication. " ... I'm sorry, I just have to get this perfectly right, you know? My job depends on it. "

Your eyes nearly roll. " I don't think anyone in Sloth is lining up to be King Zizz's head imp... "

And you're sure that's the case. Jayde holds a spot this high in Sloth's hierarchy not because he's the most professional in the field but because he's the most hard working. He's always available and ready to do any manner of odd jobs, which is a level of agency almost no one in that Ring manifests. Realistically speaking, right now, he has no direct competition and is too expensive a loss to the royal court. Because, after all, losing someone who's already intimate with Sloth's routines and inner workings implies having to teach a newbie everything. It all seems like a whole bunch of work neither the King nor his servants are looking forward to.

This is practically a non-issue.

The green demon in front of you shrugs, as tense as a plank still. Jayde places a hand over yours on the table. " But I gotta be careful now, bijou. Maybe a few months ago I could afford to lose my position, but now I have someone to take care of... "

His jagged smile attempts to be reassuring when he squeezes your hand. Take care of sounds about right, this is the same demon who won't let you out of his luxury apartment, much less out of Hell...

You try to prevent bitterness from showing on your face. One step at a time, you'll find your way outside. Or go insane trying.

" Someone to spoil. "

A grin furnishes your face. " I think you spoil me plenty already. " Beneath the table, your feet push his chair back slowly, making Jayde give blink vapidly.

The imp tries to say something but quickly shuts his own trap when you playfully slip under the table cloth, crawling your way to him. Soft hands trace up his legs through his pants, until you kneel before the King's head servant and tap at his zipper idly.

" You always give so much to your job, it must be exhausting... "

Jayde's tail is rapidly whacking into its surroundings again, this time not from stress. That mint-green face takes on a darker shade and he looks down at you as if you were made of diamonds, clad in the dress he bought you, the pendant and bracelets he almost begged you to accept.

" W- Well... I do work pretty hard. But it's nothing. I can take it. "

" I know you can. "

As much as you loathe your general circumstances right now, you can almost lie to yourself and say it's worth it when you feel him harden under your palm. Because it's so easy. He's so easy. Content with so little from you. This is by far a much more lavish lifestyle than the one you had, even if you're shackled to this monster... All you really have to do is keep him happy, put a hand around his twitching cock and tell him you're so happy to be doted on by such a wonderful man.

" You don't have to, sweetie. " He has the audacity to say, already leaking like a fucking faucet right in front of you. " I just wanted to bring you something nice. "

" Oh, do you want me to stop- "

" No! " Jayde gulps. " ... Please. "

You can't hide the little smirk when you move to finally wrap your glossed lips around his length. " Alright. "

The imp makes a rattle of a shudder as soon as you take him into the warmth of your mouth, a relieved moan hanging in the air as his legs spread and he pets your hair.

" Go on, tell me about the rest of your day. " You taunt, giving him only time to gasp before starting a pace that has him nearly choking.

" O- Ohh- Okay... "

As if he'll even try.