ella

─── 𑣲⋆ 𝓚. BAKUGO'S GUIDE TO BAG YOU

synopsis:: you and Bakugo were never close in school. just classmates who ended up in the same friend group by accident and stayed there out of habit. eight years later he's one of the top heroes with a mouth on him and you're the unbothered ex-classmate who somehow still doesn't know he's been in love with you since UA. His friends know. His mom knows. Everyone knows. You do not. This is Bakugo's guide— written badly on the back of a receipt at 2am— to finally doing something about it.

yellow and pink divs edited by me. base here if you'd like to make your own ♡ layout inspired by my goat @6x-x9

You were never the loud one in the friend group. That was never your job. Kirishima was loud. Bakugo was louder. You were the one who sat back and watched everyone lose their minds over something small and just — didn't. Calm under pressure. Unshakeable in a way that used to annoy Bakugo in high school and now just makes him feel like he's losing a fight he never agreed to start.

⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, fem!reader, sfw, reader has a deer hybrid quirk, summer flings, original characters, flirting, kissing, really just a snapshot of summer, maybe like one haikyuu reference idk. ⊹ Run time. 2k ⊹ Synop. The summer fling you told yourself was totally casual might not have gotten the memo. ⊹ Note. This is unedited, I started this with the intention of writing something short and sweet but I love exposition and I had to finish before it became a full blown fic lol. Maybe one day it will be! :)

In the late, long days of summer, the sky runs a warm shade of gold most evenings. The waters edge reflects it, everything sort of blending together in the endless space between night and day. It’s still perfectly warm, the breeze balmy and the sand comfortable between your toes as you dangle your feet over the edge of the boardwalk. The beach is busy, a buzz in the air that can only be attributed to the upcoming long weekend. Iwatobi was a quiet town most of the year save for the summer when families came back to their home town and tourists gave the strip along the shore a reason to stay open past four in the afternoon.

shoutout to saint val from @luvmailing to tag me in this :)

yippie thank u for the tag !! <3 this was fun

i <3 teal

npt : @6x-x9 @bbunsflix @kamislop @rengoatku @valberryboos @kireampie @yorikae + anyone else ! (sorry if ur tagged already</3)

Can you tell I’m thinking about dying my hair hot pink???

i like all kinds of blue!

i'm pink guys, 😝😝😝

⤷ ゛this can completely be read as a standalone, but it's actually a little slice-of-life continuation/side story from this ˎˊ˗

it had been six months since the undisputed king of campus traded his status as sigma alpha’s most notorious bachelor for quiet study dates in the basement of the university library.

to the rest of the student body, the pairing was still a mind-boggling mystery. satoru gojo was loud, six-foot-three, and lived in a world of bass drops, fraternity rivalries, and endless parties. you, on the other hand, were a serious stem major who spent your afternoons surrounded by organic chemistry notes and noise-canceling headphones. you didn't care about his title, his popularity, or his reputation.

and that was precisely why he had fallen for you—hard.

satoru had completely adapted to his new life. he happily carried your heavy tote bag around campus, traded his loud streetwear for soft sweaters on coffee dates, and let his frat brothers relentlessly mock him for it. he didn't care. normally, satoru wasn't the jealous type at all. you had plenty of friends, project partners, and classmates, and satoru had never once cared who you hung out with or talked to. he was usually far too confident in himself and in your relationship to ever feel threatened.

which was why he was so completely thrown off by what was happening right now.

he was standing under the shade of an oak tree outside the science building, gripping two iced lattes, staring at you talking to some guy near the entrance.

the guy wasn't big or flashy like the guys satoru usually hung out with. he was wearing a simple jacket, carrying a pristine stack of advanced calculus textbooks, and wearing glasses that kept sliding down his nose.

and you were laughing.

not just a polite nod, but a genuine, bright laugh, leaning in close as the guy pointed at a page in his notebook. the guy smiled back, animatedly explaining something, and you nodded, your face completely lit up.

satoru froze. his thumb dug into the side of his plastic coffee cup.

he couldn't explain why, but this specific time, a strange, heavy knot tied itself tight in his stomach. it bothered him in a way nothing ever had before. watching the two of you, a sudden thought dropped straight into his chest: they make sense together.

19:54, he’d come in the house bitchin’ about some trainee that was assigned to shadow him at work getting in the way of him fighting villains, to which of course you tried to comfort him! but he dismissed you with a single sentence “going to get changed.” you hated when he’d let things happened at work, determine the energy that he’d bring in the house. plus- his mindless rambling lead him to be shedding his gauntlets and the rest of his hero uniform down to his boxers in a trail to your shared bedroom. leaving you to trail behind him and pick it up in annoyance.

strike one.

the stoves screen read 21:36, you placed a bowl of spaghetti in front of the already grumpy man along with a slice of garlic bread. you didn’t miss the way he smacked his teeth when he seen what was in the bowl. “this shit again?” he looked up at you with a confused expression, then he eyes leaving yours as he sighed dramatically, picked up the fork and took a bite. “swear it gets saltier every time i fuckin’ eat it…” he thought he mumbled to himself but you heard him loud and clear.

strike two.

you don’t even know what time it was now. you sat on the couch next to katsuki, but left some space in between the two of you. he was occupied with some action movie on the tv while you were trying to read some essay on substack. trying to read with the loud gunshots and blurts of profanity every five seconds while the tv was on volume 36 was driving you insane!

you took the remote and turned it down to 20. katsuki’s face twisted up as he looked over at you, “the fuck? what did you do that for?” he asked with some bite to his tone. you set the remote back down in between the two of you and went back to read on your phone, “too loud.” you spared him only two words, which really ticked him off. “okay? then go in the bedroom or some shit? don’t turn the fuckin’ tv down?” he grabbed the remote and turned it back up to 36.

you could go in the bedroom - but you didn’t want to! it’s just having the human decency of being considerate about what those around you are doing! “i don’t want to be in the bedroom right now, stop being such a dick!” you took the remote from him and turned it back down to 20, setting it back down in the gap between you. “if i’m being a dick, then you’re being a bitch!” he spat out taking the remote and turning it up to 40, and instead of putting in back on the couch he held the remote in his hand.

strike three.

it started randomly, one day while he was doing nothing in particular, you just tackled him out of nowhere.

from behind, a shitty move, but it brought him to the ground. and part of him knew it was you — yet his competitive ass didn't care if he was dating you or not.

he easily flipped you over, pinning you down. "i won," he spoke, leaning down so he was in your face, smirking.

he watched your lips purse in thought, before you leaned up and pecked his lips.

"cute, but i still won," he hummed, though his gaze softened slightly.

you let out a small hum, leaning up to press your lips together once more, and his hand traveled to cup your face, angling it so your lips slotted together just right.

and when your now free hand came up to deliberately bring the wrestling on your side, his hand left your face, catching you by the wrist. though he didn't pull away as he brought your wrist back down to your side.

hanta has no idea how the others convinced bakugou to let them use his pool to host his surprise birthday party. he wonders if they paid him or something, even though all of their combined bank accounts probably look like mere pennies compared to bakugou’s.

whatever means they used - since he really, really doubts the power of friendship was enough - he can’t complain. at all. and among all of the amazing things he can name about this party, one’s been sticking out the most since he arrived— you.

you, in that bikini that’s been making him lose his mind for the past couple hours. one look at you and he was already dumb— he hadn’t even lit up his first joint, by the way.

he remembers you, a friend of mina’s, who had most likely “warned” you about him. whatever that means. because you clearly weren’t there for him, caught up in a conversation with kyouka for over twenty minutes now - not like he’d been counting - holding a beer that was dangerously close to toppling over and spill all over you every time you threw your head back in a laugh.

now, it’s not like he would’ve minded the sight.

“—hello, hanta!” denki kicks his shin again, rudely interrupting his thoughts. he has to peel his eyes away from you, only to be met with his best friend’s obnoxious face and red-rimmed eyes. “you’re gonna pass that or not? you’re not even smoking! are you out of it already?”

“huh?” he mumbles distractedly, eyeing the burning joint between his fingers. “hm, here,” he takes a quick drag, letting the smoke melt on his tongue as he hands it to denki, who’s currently sprawled out on the lawn chair next to his.

his honeyed eyes dart to where his friend was staring at before, putting the joint to his lips. “man, are you seriously ruining your own birthday party by being hung up on her? go talk to her or somethin’!”

hanta brushes him off with a groan. “mina’s told her stuff,” he shakes his head. “dunno what, though, it’s clear she doesn’t want to talk to me. i mean, she didn’t even say happy birthday when i arrived.”

“yikes,” denki cringes.

“tell me about it.”

as he’s mid-stretching his neck, a head of fiery red intrudes in his field of vision. “yo, birthday boy! are you planning to stay there and sulk all night? we’re gonna play volley in the pool.”

hanta almost rejects eijirou’s offer when he sees you getting in the water with mina.

“you know what? sure, c’mon denks,” he pats his friend’s thigh, who scrambles to put out the joint in the ashtray katsuki gave them - neither of them even dares to think what their punishment would be - and follow suit.

“took you guys long enough,” kyouka rolls her eyes as the three boys approach. “we’ve already formed teams.”

“oh man, without me? i wanted to be captain!” eijirou pouts. “sorry, bubba, but kats and i beat you to it,” mina chirps, sticking her tongue out with a victorious grin. “you’re in katsuki’s team, denks and hanta are in mine!”

quickly scanning the water, hanta sees you’re in mina’s team. if he plays his cards right, maybe he still has a chance to shoot his shot. is he good at volleyball? no, and he’s definitely at even more of a disadvantage, playing in the water and being high.

he just has to think of a way to impress you that doesn’t involve his skills, or lack thereof.

the opportunity finally came when katsuki, the competitive motherfucker that he is, spiked the ball at full speed towards you. he barely made it, hands wrapping around your middle to whip you around and shield you with his body when the ball hit him square in the face.

everything went black after that.

hanta’s head is throbbing, the kind of headache he’s used to getting the morning after getting wasted for a whole night, the uncomfortable ache that knocks him out for a whole day.

“—hanta? hey, he’s waking up!” an angelic voice breaches through his dazed mind, followed by the feeling of soft fingers patting his cheek. the dream-like vision doesn’t last long, though, a pair of angry crimson eyes boring into his. “oi! better wake the fuck up!”

he’s definitely conscious now.

“jesus, bakugou, get out of my face,” he shoves katsuki away with a groan, blinking hard as he gets used again to the golden light of the setting sun. he’s lying on the stone tiles that line the pool, some of his friends watching him from the water, all with the same relieved look on their faces.

“yeah! our hero is awake!” eijirou cheers, throwing his fist up in the air, only to be elbowed in the ribs by kyouka.

“i guess he really is a hero, huh?” he finally realizes who the angelic voice he heard before belongs to— you. of course, it was you. kneeling on the grass next to him, big eyes looking down at him framing a soft, beautiful smile.

maybe he was dead and this was his heaven?

“whatever, i already apologized,” katsuki is sulking, sitting on the edge of the pool with his legs in the water. mina comes up from behind him, smacking the back of his head. “you apologized to her, but not to hanta!” she scolds the blond, who growls in protest but eventually relents.

“sorry.”

everyone goes back to other stuff after making sure that hanta was okay. he was in good hands, after all.

you hadn't left his side yet, only to give katsuki the ice pack he had brought out, then immediately coming back to him. he’s sitting up now, hands behind his back to hold himself up.

he’s really trying not to stare at you, at the way your bikini is hugging your body, so close to him. hanta hopes his soaked swimming trunks aren’t going to betray him, at least not until you’re gone.

“y’know, you didn’t have to be such a show off on your birthday. it’s already a special day,” you tease, lightly bumping your shoulder against his.

he should come up with some smooth reply, he thinks, something that makes him look nonchalant and cool, but all his brain can conjure at the moment is a dumb ”buh”. and, well, he can’t have that.

“not special enough to earn a birthday wish from you, though. had to take it up a notch to show i’m worthy, or somethin’.”

your eyes widen, and hanta dies inside. he said it without thinking, and now he definitely looks like a huge, pretentious piece of shit.

“i didn’t? oh my god i’m so sorry!” your hand comes to rest on top of his over the damp grass, and now you’re even closer than before, your chest almost squished against his bicep. “you were busy talking to your friends, and then i got pulled away…and i was too embarrassed to just come up to you out of nowhere.”

your voice is small, and he realizes you genuinely do feel bad for it. “hey,” he almost purrs. “you’re fine, i mean it. your gift will make up for it,” he teases, flashing you a grin.

you giggle, shoulders relaxing in relief. your fingers interlock with his between the blades of grass, leaning over to whisper something in his ear. “i’ve got two, actually. but i guess this also counts as thanks for saving me, earlier.”

hanta opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him, closing the distance between your lips. it’s more of a peck than an actual kiss, with you immediately pulling back, eyes scanning his for a reaction. he doesn’t speak, his other hand finding your hip to haul you over his lap to kiss you again.

you both fall back into the grass, limbs tangling and lips smacking like some teenagers with no self control. you almost miss katsuki’s barked scolding, sliding window open to yell at you to “not fuck on his yard, or anywhere in or near his house”.

when you finally break away, your lips are puffy and kiss-bitten, looking like an absolute dream.

“y’know,” you whisper, still not quite peeling yourself off of him just yet. “we could make it three gifts if you take me back to your place tonight.”

man, this might be hanta’s best birthday yet.

┊┊a/n. happy birthday hanta they should've put you in the new season of my hero ultra rumble you would be my main :(

𝐦oth 𝐭o a 𝐟lame

denki kaminari x f ! reader ( SMAU ) toxic ex situationship who keeps coming back

a/n: look who's posting after all this time, i had so much trouble posting because i couldn't really like what i was writing- Please don't mind any mistake here, I didn't reread because I wouldn't post it then

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀──────── GIVING

⠀ 𖥻 𝗢𝟭 : ACTS OF SERVICE

Shoto will notice if something’s up with your hero gear,if it’s frayed or scratched, he’ll try and look for a new support item for you, and when he finally replace the old one, you’re grateful, because obviously you’ve seen the damage, you just didn’t have enough time to go ahead and change it.

If Shoto notice you’re cold, he’ll come up to you, subtly warming up his left hand and place it on your lower back, keep it there until you’re not shivering anymore, he’ll warmup your towels for you and keep them in the shower if you’re using it. And if you run hot, he’ll do the same with his right hand, except you need more than just his hand, you cling onto his side, and you just get to lay on him because he’s keeping you cool.

If you’re big on coffee, Shoto would memorize your exact order, and every chance he gets, he’ll go to your favorite coffee shop bringing you one and handing it to you without a word.

Also, if He’s going to charge his phone, he’ll check your phone’s battery, and if needed will plug it with his, you never really catch him doing it, and you’re confused why your phone’s always charged.

⠀ 𖥻 𝗢2 : QUALITY TIME

Shoto doesn’t really need you to entertain him. Just being in the same space as you, is enough for him, you can be both doing your own things.

If you’re reading a book in bed, he’ll slide beside you, reviewing some paperwork, no one talks, but after an hour, you slide closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder, and without lifting his head, he just accommodates, his hand wrapping around your figure, just so it’s easier for him to hold the papers. 

He comes back home, greets you from the door, expecting you to be on the couch, watching a show or taking a nap, but to his surprise you’re on the kitchen, cooking an early dinner. You turn to him, smiling and explaining that you just got bored and decided to try something out, he nods, gets closer, standing behind you and watches you do your own thing. 

Without turning towards him you ask: “Aren’t you going to shower?” 

He’s still in his uniform, hair slightly tousled, he looks tired.

“After” He mumbles stepping closer, his head dropping to your shoulder. 

And you just let him be, continuing whatever you’ve started.

You’re the one asking him to take you training with him, it’s either the gym at his agency, or just training in a field, but you’re not fighting one another, just side by side. He’s doing his drills, and you’re on the other side doing your own, he’ll look for you from time to time to see if you’re still there, and if you’re out of it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀──────── RECIEVING

⠀ 𖥻 𝗢𝟭 : WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

Shoto cannot read between the lines or the subtle clues you may leave, he hates tension, lies or passive agression. He needs you to be explicit, explain to him from A to Z.

He isn’t one to be good at giving words of affirmation, but he absolutely loves it when you just blurt some for him. His internal voice isn’t really kind about him, always there to remind him of every little thing, every past mistake.

He needs you there to remind him that he’s lovable not just useful, he’ll repeat them to himself to try and break from his ugly thoughts. 

⠀ 𖥻 𝗢2 : PHYSICAL TOUCH

Shoto won’t be one to initiate physical touch, not because he doesn’t like it, he always second guesses it, reaches out and in the end, doesn’t proceed with it , he’s in his space until there’s a sudden, fleeting touch from you and he loves it.

Shoto doesn’t ask for it, but you know better than to believe what he shows.

He loves when it’s casual, without a thought behind it, whether you rest your hand on his forearm as you walk together, or having your hand in his when it’s crowded, you don’t want to lose him. When your knees touch under a table, because you’re sitting so close one to another. 

If there’s ever something on his hair, or his shirt, you’re quick to brush the piece out of his attire without saying anything.

After a hard mission or when he’s injured, you’re quick to check his injuries yourself with careful, shaky hands, even if he reminds you that the medics already took care of him, you tell him to stop moving and he smiles fondly, because in these moments he know you care about him.

If he’s ever having a hard time, you’re sitting beside him, not uttering a word, because he doesn't really need that right now, he knows talking about it is pointless, it’s all in his head. You’re sitting so close that your shoulders press together, silently reminding him that you’re here, your hand on his knee, palm flat, and if he ever hold your hand, your thumb is rubbing small circles on his skin, you don’t squeeze it, just holding it.

When it’s cold, you take the initiative to grab his left hand, warm and hot, holding it between both of yours, trying to melt the cold out of yours, and he can’t keep himself from smiling at the sight, slinging both of your hands in his left pocket.

He often rests his head in your lap, if you’re ever in the couch, occupied with something, he’ll silently slide up to you, rest his head on your lap, and squeeze his eye shut, letting you run your fingers through his hair, tracing the scar over his eye with your fingertips, and it just relaxes him.

❝ BLOG RECS P2 ❞ 2.5k !

゛★ 2.5k special — some of my current favorite blogs!

be mindful of each writer’s dni.

★ @indiewritesxoxo :: JJK CENTRIC (mostly nsfw)

coupled up! ft. jjk men. 18+

★ @gyarujo :: MULTI-FANDOM (n+sfw)

how to lose a nerd in ten days ft. nerdjo. sfw

★ @tokkushin :: MULTI-FANDOM (n+sfw)

talk to the hand ft. sukuna ryomen. 18+

★ @rengoatku :: JJK CENTRIC (n+sfw)

fratjo shows up at your dorm drunk ft. frat gojo. sfw

★ @kamislop :: MULTI-FANDOM (n+sfw)

sit on it like you mean it ft. hiromi higuruma. 18+

★ @toruii :: JJK CENTRIC (n+sfw)

nerdjo makes you jealous ft. nerd gojo. 18+

★ @torumaii :: JJK CENTRIC (n+sfw)

cursedcockhotline ft. jjk men. 18+

★ @neotoru :: JJK CENTRIC (n+sfw)

riding nerdjo’s thigh while he studies ft. nerd gojo. 18+

★ @bloomflix :: JJK + BLLK + MULTI (n+sfw)

i’m your internet girl ft. nerd gojo. sfw

★ @kireampie :: JJK CENTRIC (n+sfw)

slutty barista girl ft. satoru gojo. 18+ 

★ @liahcharms :: JJK CENTRIC (n+sfw)

she’s my collar ft trueform sukuna. 18+

★ @ryoride :: MULTI-FANDOM (n+sfw)

alt choso headcanons. sfw

★ @satoriee :: JJK CENTRIC (n+sfw)

music to his ears ft perv gojo. 18+

★ @yummidumplingss :: JJK CENTRIC (n+sfw)

asking your best friends to kiss ft satoru & suguru. 18+

★ @satoruined :: JJK CENTRIC (n+sfw)

infodumping his load ft. nerdjo. 18+

★ @fukiouh :: JJK CENTRIC (n+sfw)

solved ft. incel nerdjo. 18+

★ @fayelero :: MULTI-FANDOM (mostly 18+)

perv neighbor ft. satoru gojo. 18+

that’s all for this one! there will be another at 3k + more recs over all <3 i didnt wanna add too many (there r still so many favorites i haven’t included) but will include in the next ones!

“this hotel’s real nice, kats, we should definitely come back another time! without all the impending plans, that is. did you see they have a little spa area?”

you click your last earring in place, checking both sides of your face in the full-length mirror to make sure the jewels aren’t askew. the great dynamight was never one for big social events, and going out of his way to travel for one was even less likely— however, shouto was hosting a fundraiser gala for his new quirk accidents rehab center, so he couldn’t exactly pass that up.

“spa? what do you need a massage for?” his spiky head of wheat blond peeked out from the en-suite bathroom’s doorway, shirt collar still standing up straight against his neck, a poor excuse of a bowtie loosely wrapped around it. “and i give you massages every night.”

you can only roll your eyes at him from the reflection in your mirror. “so? you want that massage all to yourself?”

“hah? i want to get pampered and suddenly it’s not a good idea anymore?”

“katsuki,” you begin calmly, turning on your heels. “are you seriously going to look me in the eyes and tell me you’re okay with another person’s hands being all over you?” you cock up a brow. his nose curls in a grimace at the mere thought, then he scoffs, disappearing back into the bathroom.

of course, you think to yourself, snorting.

the carpet muffles your step as you cross the room, katsuki’s hushed grumbling becoming increasingly clearer, but all you catch is a string of curses. “need help?” you chirp, smiling sweetly at him.

“fucking thing is—” he cuts himself off when you invade his space, soft fingers stopping his calloused ones from ripping the poor piece of fabric to shreds. “let me help,” you slide between him and the sink counter, and he takes half a step back so you can be more comfortable.

you lay back against the marble, taking your time to work the bowtie, making sure it’s not too tight on his throat, then fold the shirt collar over it. you pat his chest once when you’re done. “there you go. no need to get so fussy about that.”

katsuki grunts once more, lips pressed together in a scowl. you think he’s being stubborn about the tie, before you realize his ruby eyes are staring downwards, yes, but not at the floor.

“you’re gonna wear that?”

you follow his gaze, and sigh when you understand he’s pointing out the generous amount of cleavage that your dress shows. “yes, katsuki, i’m wearing this dress. you literally saw me pack it.”

his frown turns into something more of a pout, big palms pawing at your hips while he keeps staring. “you look hot.”

your brows knit together in confusion. “you’re saying it like it’s an insult.”

“‘s not,” he protests. “just…everyone’s going to look at you.”

his awkwardness pushes a smile on your face. “kats, we’re going to be at a gala with, like, hundreds of people,” you reassure, taking his face in your hands to make him look at you. “it’s going to be full of pro heroes, i’m only your plus one. i’m sure there’ll be plenty of interesting things for paparazzi and other guests to look at.”

the look in katsuki’s eyes changes all of a sudden, fingers digging into your waist as he tugs you closer, until his forehead is pressed against yours. “only my plus one? you’re my wife,” he says sternly. “nothing and no one is more or even as interesting as you.”

your hearty giggles fill the bathroom, unable to holding them in any longer. he’s just too cute.

“yeah?” you caress his cheeks with your thumbs. “well all that matters to me is that you find me interesting, katsuki, alright? i don’t care what anybody else thinks as long as you think i’m hot.”

“hmm,” he grumbles, pushing his nose against yours. “very hot.”

and then you’re closing the distance, tasting a mix of mint and caramel on katsuki’s lips as they meet yours. his palm shifts to the small of your back while yours finds his soft locks, tugging at them enough to draw a needy groan. he tastes your lipgloss, the creamy texture of it spreading and leaving colorful streaks across his maw— he couldn’t give any less of a fuck about it right now.

you feel the counter dig in the back of your thighs when katsuki pushes you back against it, free hand finding purchase on the marble edge right next to you. a quiet moan bubbles in your throat when he pushes a thick thigh between yours, the buttons of his suit shirt digging into your exposed chest.

“fuck, baby—”

knock knock knock!

“uh, mister dynamight, sir? t-the car will be here in ten!”

the shaky voice of one of the interns from katuki’s agency rings from outside the door (his PR team had to be present for the event).

“they can wait!” katsuki barked, the hand on your back warming up as his irritation grew. there’s silence after, and you can only imagine the poor kid’s run away with his tail between his legs in pure fear.

“guess this will have to wait, huh?” you chirp teasingly, watching the frustration wash over your husband’s face. “yeah, yeah, whatever,” he waves you off, peeling himself away from you reluctantly. “look at that, ‘s a damn mess.”

katsuki checks himself out in the mirror, red lipstick smeared all over his lips, the weak attempt at styling his hair positively ruined by your fingers’ doing.

“now you’re complaining? thought you were having fun,” you quip.

“i was, until that extra interrupted,” he huffs. “now, now, don’t be harsh on the kid. and quit whining, just let me fix you up so we won’t arrive late. i know you’d hate that,” you scolded him affectionately, reaching for the tub of hair gel next to the sink.

“we can always finish what we started when we come back, okay, love?”

┊┊a/n. everybody thank @jeanmarcosno1 for this idea i genuinely found my love for writing again all i needed was loser bkg

You woke up to a heavy, delicious warmth pooling over your chest and a sharp, frantic tug of pleasure rippling straight down to your core. 

You didn’t even need to open your eyes to know what was happening. It was just past dawn, and Satoru was at it again.

Satoru had always been an obsessive man. Completely devoted to you. But at six months pregnant, your body had become his personal religion. Your belly was round, heavy, and undeniably prominent beneath the sheets, but your tits? They had easily doubled in size — full, aching, and constantly leaking thick, sweet droplets of early milk.

And Satoru was practically feral for it.

He had one large hand firmly cupped around the underside of your right breast, shoving the overflowing flesh upward, while his mouth was clamped greedily over your left nipple. He was sucking with a desperate, rhythmic hunger, his tongue flicking expertly over the sensitive peak as he swallowed every drop you produced.

“Mmmh…”

A soft, breathless moan slipped past your lips as you shifted lazily against the mattress. Your core was already slick and throbbing, soaked through your underwear, just from the way his mouth worked over you. You were so damn used to this by now. Ever since you’d started leaking a few weeks ago, waking up to Satoru nursing on you like a starving man had become your absolute favorite daily routine.

You reached down, fingers tangling in his thick, snow-white hair, and gently gripped a handful of it, pulling his head just a fraction closer to keep him locked against your skin.

Satoru let out a muffled, appreciative growl against your chest. His free hand slid down your body, lingering possessively over the curve of your belly before continuing lower. He grabbed your ass, palm spreading wide and squeezing the soft cheek in a slow, claiming grip that made you arch into him.

He pulled his mouth off your nipple with a loud, wet pop, leaving the skin slick, red, and glistening with saliva. He looked up at you from between your tits, blue eyes blown wide and dark with lust. A thin, milky drop was smeared across his lower lip; he swiped his tongue over it lazily, grinning like a sinner.

“Morning, baby” he rasped, his morning voice thick, gravelly, and entirely wrecked. “Did I wake my favorite mommy?”

“Shut up,” you breathed, a hot blush rushing to your cheeks, though your hips automatically bucked up a fraction against the mattress, chasing the phantom friction. “You’re insatiable.”

“Look at you,” he murmured, ignoring your complaint entirely as his gaze dropped right back to your heavy breasts. He squeezed the right one firmly. “Look how swollen and heavy they get every morning. You’re leaking all over yourself again, baby. So ready for daddy.”

“God, Satoru…” you moaned, your fingers tightening just a bit in his hair, guiding him back down. “Stop talking and just eat.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

With a low, wicked laugh, he dove straight back in. This time he didn’t hold back. He switched to the other breast, sucking so hard and deep that a sharp, exquisite jolt of heat speared straight through your body, making your toes curl. Then, suddenly, he slowed. 

He pulled back just enough to drag the flat of his tongue in a long, deliberate stroke from the underside of your breast all the way up to the nipple. Slow. Thorough. Obsessive. He did it again, and again, catching every fresh bead of milk that welled up and swirling his tongue around the peak before sucking it clean.

The wet, smacking sounds of him nursing echoed loudly in the quiet bedroom, mixed with your ragged, needy breathing.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he muttered against your skin, his words vibrating right through your chest. “Drinking straight from the source… knowing my baby is growing in there—it drives me out of my goddamn mind.”

His hand slipped beneath the elastic of your sleep shorts, his long fingers parting your wet folds with zero hesitation. When his middle finger pressed directly against your dripping, ultra-sensitive clit, you let out a sharp gasp, your back arching off the mattress.

“So fucking wet,” Satoru praised, his voice dropping into that filthy, hypnotic register that always made your brain short-circuit. “Look how soaked you are just from me sucking on your tits, sweetheart. You’re a dripping mess. You want daddy’s thick milk inside you again, don't you? Want me to milk these big, heavy tits dry and then fill mommy’s pretty pussy right after?”

“Yes—Satoru, please, fuck, right there—” you stammered, your hips grinding mindlessly against his fingers as he began moving them in fast, tight, relentless circles over your clit while his mouth stayed locked on your breast, sucking hard and deep. 

The way his mouth greedily drained your swollen breasts while his fingers rubbed your clit without mercy was entirely too much. Your vision blurred at the edges. Your belly felt heavy and warm, your tits aching with a sweet, burning pressure that begged to be touched harder, sucked harder, used more.

“Ahh– I’m gonna cum” 

It hit you fast. Your thighs clamped around his wrist as the first orgasm crashed through you — sharp, sudden, and overwhelming. A broken cry tore from your throat while your clit pulsed wildly under his fingers. 

He kept sucking and rubbing you through every wave, milking the climax out of you until you were trembling and gasping his name.

“Satoru—fuck me, please. I need more”

Only then did he lift his head, his lips swollen, flushed, and glistening, breath hot against your skin as he crawled up your body. He pressed his hard, heavy length against your thigh.

“Open your legs wider for me, baby,” he commanded, his voice dark with absolute authority.

You parted your knees immediately, wrapping your legs around his waist as he loomed over your rounded belly, looking down at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world—and the dirtiest, most delicious fantasy he’d ever laid hands on.

“You’re carrying my baby, your belly is round and heavy, your tits are practically overflowing with milk, you just came all over my fingers and now you’re begging me to ruin you,” he whispered fiercely, freeing his cock before pressing the blunt head right against your entrance. One large hand settled gently over the curve of your stomach, stroking it with slow, reverent caresses even as his cock nudged deeper. “You belong to me so completely it’s sick. Spread those legs wider, let me see my big-bellied, milk-leaking girl take every single inch of this.”

He pushed in carefully —slow, controlled, mindful of the six-month bump—until he was fully seated inside you. The stretch punched a broken moan from your throat. Satoru’s forehead dropped against yours for a second, breathing hard, while his hand kept stroking over your belly in soft, continuous circles.

“That’s it… take daddy nice and deep,” he murmured, starting to move in long, careful thrusts. “Feel how full you are? My cock in this tight little pussy, my baby growing right here under my hand… and these perfect, leaking tits just waiting for me to empty them again.”

He fucked you like that—deep, steady, almost worshipful—until your thighs started shaking. Every time he bottomed out he pressed a little firmer against your belly, like he needed the constant reminder of what he’d put inside you.

“Gonna fill mommy up,” he growled against your mouth, voice cracking with restraint. “You want that, baby?”

“Yes, Satoru — fuck — I want to be so full of cum I’ll feel it for days. Want another baby in me the second this one comes out.”

Something in him snapped.

The careful, worshipful thrusts turned sharp and deep. Satoru braced one hand beside your head and the other stayed locked over your swollen belly, fingers spread wide like he needed to feel every jolt of his cock slamming into you. His hips snapped forward harder, wet and filthy, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room mixed with the soft, rhythmic slap of your heavy tits bouncing with every thrust.

“Fuck—look at you,” he panted, blue eyes almost black. “Six months pregnant, tits leaking, and still begging for more of my cum. So fucking greedy for it”

He drove in deeper, angling so the thick head of his cock dragged hard against that swollen spot inside you on every stroke. Your nails dug into his shoulders. 

“Satoru—oh god—”

“That’s it. Take it. Take every fucking inch while you carry my baby.” His voice was wrecked, desperate. “Gonna pump you so full it drips down your thighs for the rest of the day. Gonna keep you dripping and swollen and marked as mine.”

His filthy words pushed you toward the edge faster and faster, your second orgasm building with every one that left his mouth. 

One hand left your belly only long enough to shove two fingers into your mouth; you sucked them greedily while he watched, eyes wild. When he pulled them free he smeared the spit over one leaking nipple and pinched it, making you whimper.

“Feel how deep I am?” he snarled, thrusting so hard the headboard knocked the wall. “Feel my cock stretching this pregnant pussy open? You’re gonna come on it. You’re gonna milk me with those tight little walls”

Your belly tightened under his palm. Your thighs shook violently around his waist. The wet, filthy sounds of him pounding into you filled the room.

“Satoru—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m—”

“Come,” he ordered, voice breaking. “Come on daddy’s cock, baby—please”

You shattered with a broken, high cry, walls clamping down around him so hard he cursed. Your whole body jerked and pulsed beneath him. Satoru didn’t last another three thrusts. He slammed in to the hilt and came with a raw, animal sound — thick, hot pulses flooding you so deep it made your stomach tighten. He kept grinding through it, forcing every drop inside while his hand stayed pressed over your belly like he was holding both of you together.

He stayed buried, panting against your neck, hips still giving tiny, involuntary thrusts as the last spurts left him. Cum was already starting to leak out around his cock, warm and messy between your thighs.

Only then did the urgency finally melt away. Satoru's breathing gradually steadied. He pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your neck, then another beneath your jaw before carefully slipping out and rolling onto his side, making sure not to put any weight on your stomach. His hand found the gentle curve of your belly almost immediately, thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles over your skin.

“You okay, baby?” he asked quietly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. His blue eyes searched yours, all concern now. “Did I go too hard? Need some water? Want me to clean you up?”

A sleepy laugh escaped you. You cupped his cheek, your thumb grazing along his jaw as he instinctively leaned into your touch.

“You switch from absolute pervert to worried husband and soon-to-be dad so fast it's honestly impressive.” you teased, still catching your breath. “Wasn’t I your cock slut like... five seconds ago?”

Satoru’s lips twitched. He caught your wrist and pressed a kiss to your palm.

“You know I’d never call you that.”

“Maybe you should” you murmured with a grin.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled. “My wife is filthy.”

“Says you.”

“I know! That’s why I'm shocked.”

You laughed, and he kissed you again—slow this time, unhurried, before resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too.” you murmured as your fingers slipped into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp

Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed a few tissues.

“Let me clean you up,” he said softly. “Then I'm getting you water, and after that I'm holding you until you fall asleep again.”

You opened your mouth to protest. He pressed a finger lightly against your lips.

“No arguments.”

You rolled your eyes but settled deeper into the pillows as he got out of bed. 

Honestly, after the way your husband had thoroughly fucked you into the mattress, going back to sleep sounded like an excellent idea.

@promisingyounglady @justsisse @private-girl @dilovely @marriammm17 @theonewhorememvers @jaycee374 @zenbabyy @satorulovee @affinityblues @daydreams-and-peace @sir-goonington @sensitiveyounggirl @twilightpie14 @vrodeylua @limitlesweets @butterbeanandsparkleface

You woke up to a heavy, delicious warmth pooling over your chest and a sharp, frantic tug of pleasure rippling straight down to your core. 

You didn’t even need to open your eyes to know what was happening. It was just past dawn, and Satoru was at it again.

Satoru had always been an obsessive man. Completely devoted to you. But at six months pregnant, your body had become his personal religion. Your belly was round, heavy, and undeniably prominent beneath the sheets, but your tits? They had easily doubled in size — full, aching, and constantly leaking thick, sweet droplets of early milk.

And Satoru was practically feral for it.

He had one large hand firmly cupped around the underside of your right breast, shoving the overflowing flesh upward, while his mouth was clamped greedily over your left nipple. He was sucking with a desperate, rhythmic hunger, his tongue flicking expertly over the sensitive peak as he swallowed every drop you produced.

“Mmmh…”

A soft, breathless moan slipped past your lips as you shifted lazily against the mattress. Your core was already slick and throbbing, soaked through your underwear, just from the way his mouth worked over you. You were so damn used to this by now. Ever since you’d started leaking a few weeks ago, waking up to Satoru nursing on you like a starving man had become your absolute favorite daily routine.

You reached down, fingers tangling in his thick, snow-white hair, and gently gripped a handful of it, pulling his head just a fraction closer to keep him locked against your skin.

Satoru let out a muffled, appreciative growl against your chest. His free hand slid down your body, lingering possessively over the curve of your belly before continuing lower. He grabbed your ass, palm spreading wide and squeezing the soft cheek in a slow, claiming grip that made you arch into him.

He pulled his mouth off your nipple with a loud, wet pop, leaving the skin slick, red, and glistening with saliva. He looked up at you from between your tits, blue eyes blown wide and dark with lust. A thin, milky drop was smeared across his lower lip; he swiped his tongue over it lazily, grinning like a sinner.

“Morning, baby” he rasped, his morning voice thick, gravelly, and entirely wrecked. “Did I wake my favorite mommy?”

“Shut up,” you breathed, a hot blush rushing to your cheeks, though your hips automatically bucked up a fraction against the mattress, chasing the phantom friction. “You’re insatiable.”

“Look at you,” he murmured, ignoring your complaint entirely as his gaze dropped right back to your heavy breasts. He squeezed the right one firmly. “Look how swollen and heavy they get every morning. You’re leaking all over yourself again, baby. So ready for daddy.”

“God, Satoru…” you moaned, your fingers tightening just a bit in his hair, guiding him back down. “Stop talking and just eat.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

With a low, wicked laugh, he dove straight back in. This time he didn’t hold back. He switched to the other breast, sucking so hard and deep that a sharp, exquisite jolt of heat speared straight through your body, making your toes curl. Then, suddenly, he slowed. 

He pulled back just enough to drag the flat of his tongue in a long, deliberate stroke from the underside of your breast all the way up to the nipple. Slow. Thorough. Obsessive. He did it again, and again, catching every fresh bead of milk that welled up and swirling his tongue around the peak before sucking it clean.

The wet, smacking sounds of him nursing echoed loudly in the quiet bedroom, mixed with your ragged, needy breathing.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he muttered against your skin, his words vibrating right through your chest. “Drinking straight from the source… knowing my baby is growing in there—it drives me out of my goddamn mind.”

His hand slipped beneath the elastic of your sleep shorts, his long fingers parting your wet folds with zero hesitation. When his middle finger pressed directly against your dripping, ultra-sensitive clit, you let out a sharp gasp, your back arching off the mattress.

“So fucking wet,” Satoru praised, his voice dropping into that filthy, hypnotic register that always made your brain short-circuit. “Look how soaked you are just from me sucking on your tits, sweetheart. You’re a dripping mess. You want daddy’s thick milk inside you again, don't you? Want me to milk these big, heavy tits dry and then fill mommy’s pretty pussy right after?”

“Yes—Satoru, please, fuck, right there—” you stammered, your hips grinding mindlessly against his fingers as he began moving them in fast, tight, relentless circles over your clit while his mouth stayed locked on your breast, sucking hard and deep. 

The way his mouth greedily drained your swollen breasts while his fingers rubbed your clit without mercy was entirely too much. Your vision blurred at the edges. Your belly felt heavy and warm, your tits aching with a sweet, burning pressure that begged to be touched harder, sucked harder, used more.

“Ahh– I’m gonna cum” 

It hit you fast. Your thighs clamped around his wrist as the first orgasm crashed through you — sharp, sudden, and overwhelming. A broken cry tore from your throat while your clit pulsed wildly under his fingers. 

He kept sucking and rubbing you through every wave, milking the climax out of you until you were trembling and gasping his name.

“Satoru—fuck me, please. I need more”

Only then did he lift his head, his lips swollen, flushed, and glistening, breath hot against your skin as he crawled up your body. He pressed his hard, heavy length against your thigh.

“Open your legs wider for me, baby,” he commanded, his voice dark with absolute authority.

You parted your knees immediately, wrapping your legs around his waist as he loomed over your rounded belly, looking down at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world—and the dirtiest, most delicious fantasy he’d ever laid hands on.

“You’re carrying my baby, your belly is round and heavy, your tits are practically overflowing with milk, you just came all over my fingers and now you’re begging me to ruin you,” he whispered fiercely, freeing his cock before pressing the blunt head right against your entrance. One large hand settled gently over the curve of your stomach, stroking it with slow, reverent caresses even as his cock nudged deeper. “You belong to me so completely it’s sick. Spread those legs wider, let me see my big-bellied, milk-leaking girl take every single inch of this.”

He pushed in carefully —slow, controlled, mindful of the six-month bump—until he was fully seated inside you. The stretch punched a broken moan from your throat. Satoru’s forehead dropped against yours for a second, breathing hard, while his hand kept stroking over your belly in soft, continuous circles.

“That’s it… take daddy nice and deep,” he murmured, starting to move in long, careful thrusts. “Feel how full you are? My cock in this tight little pussy, my baby growing right here under my hand… and these perfect, leaking tits just waiting for me to empty them again.”

He fucked you like that—deep, steady, almost worshipful—until your thighs started shaking. Every time he bottomed out he pressed a little firmer against your belly, like he needed the constant reminder of what he’d put inside you.

“Gonna fill mommy up,” he growled against your mouth, voice cracking with restraint. “You want that, baby?”

“Yes, Satoru — fuck — I want to be so full of cum I’ll feel it for days. Want another baby in me the second this one comes out.”

Something in him snapped.

The careful, worshipful thrusts turned sharp and deep. Satoru braced one hand beside your head and the other stayed locked over your swollen belly, fingers spread wide like he needed to feel every jolt of his cock slamming into you. His hips snapped forward harder, wet and filthy, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room mixed with the soft, rhythmic slap of your heavy tits bouncing with every thrust.

“Fuck—look at you,” he panted, blue eyes almost black. “Six months pregnant, tits leaking, and still begging for more of my cum. So fucking greedy for it”

He drove in deeper, angling so the thick head of his cock dragged hard against that swollen spot inside you on every stroke. Your nails dug into his shoulders. 

“Satoru—oh god—”

“That’s it. Take it. Take every fucking inch while you carry my baby.” His voice was wrecked, desperate. “Gonna pump you so full it drips down your thighs for the rest of the day. Gonna keep you dripping and swollen and marked as mine.”

His filthy words pushed you toward the edge faster and faster, your second orgasm building with every one that left his mouth. 

One hand left your belly only long enough to shove two fingers into your mouth; you sucked them greedily while he watched, eyes wild. When he pulled them free he smeared the spit over one leaking nipple and pinched it, making you whimper.

“Feel how deep I am?” he snarled, thrusting so hard the headboard knocked the wall. “Feel my cock stretching this pregnant pussy open? You’re gonna come on it. You’re gonna milk me with those tight little walls”

Your belly tightened under his palm. Your thighs shook violently around his waist. The wet, filthy sounds of him pounding into you filled the room.

“Satoru—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m—”

“Come,” he ordered, voice breaking. “Come on daddy’s cock, baby—please”

You shattered with a broken, high cry, walls clamping down around him so hard he cursed. Your whole body jerked and pulsed beneath him. Satoru didn’t last another three thrusts. He slammed in to the hilt and came with a raw, animal sound — thick, hot pulses flooding you so deep it made your stomach tighten. He kept grinding through it, forcing every drop inside while his hand stayed pressed over your belly like he was holding both of you together.

He stayed buried, panting against your neck, hips still giving tiny, involuntary thrusts as the last spurts left him. Cum was already starting to leak out around his cock, warm and messy between your thighs.

Only then did the urgency finally melt away. Satoru's breathing gradually steadied. He pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your neck, then another beneath your jaw before carefully slipping out and rolling onto his side, making sure not to put any weight on your stomach. His hand found the gentle curve of your belly almost immediately, thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles over your skin.

“You okay, baby?” he asked quietly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. His blue eyes searched yours, all concern now. “Did I go too hard? Need some water? Want me to clean you up?”

A sleepy laugh escaped you. You cupped his cheek, your thumb grazing along his jaw as he instinctively leaned into your touch.

“You switch from absolute pervert to worried husband and soon-to-be dad so fast it's honestly impressive.” you teased, still catching your breath. “Wasn’t I your cock slut like... five seconds ago?”

Satoru’s lips twitched. He caught your wrist and pressed a kiss to your palm.

“You know I’d never call you that.”

“Maybe you should” you murmured with a grin.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled. “My wife is filthy.”

“Says you.”

“I know! That’s why I'm shocked.”

You laughed, and he kissed you again—slow this time, unhurried, before resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too.” you murmured as your fingers slipped into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp

Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed a few tissues.

“Let me clean you up,” he said softly. “Then I'm getting you water, and after that I'm holding you until you fall asleep again.”

You opened your mouth to protest. He pressed a finger lightly against your lips.

“No arguments.”

You rolled your eyes but settled deeper into the pillows as he got out of bed. 

Honestly, after the way your husband had thoroughly fucked you into the mattress, going back to sleep sounded like an excellent idea.

@promisingyounglady @justsisse @private-girl @dilovely @marriammm17 @theonewhorememvers @jaycee374 @zenbabyy @satorulovee @affinityblues @daydreams-and-peace @sir-goonington @sensitiveyounggirl @twilightpie14 @vrodeylua @limitlesweets @butterbeanandsparkleface

a/n: look who's posting after all this time, i had so much trouble posting because i couldn't really like what i was writing- Please don't mind any mistake here, I didn't reread because I wouldn't post it then

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀──────── GIVING

⠀ 𖥻 𝗢𝟭 : ACTS OF SERVICE

Shoto will notice if something’s up with your hero gear,if it’s frayed or scratched, he’ll try and look for a new support item for you, and when he finally replace the old one, you’re grateful, because obviously you’ve seen the damage, you just didn’t have enough time to go ahead and change it.

If Shoto notice you’re cold, he’ll come up to you, subtly warming up his left hand and place it on your lower back, keep it there until you’re not shivering anymore, he’ll warmup your towels for you and keep them in the shower if you’re using it. And if you run hot, he’ll do the same with his right hand, except you need more than just his hand, you cling onto his side, and you just get to lay on him because he’s keeping you cool.

If you’re big on coffee, Shoto would memorize your exact order, and every chance he gets, he’ll go to your favorite coffee shop bringing you one and handing it to you without a word.

Also, if He’s going to charge his phone, he’ll check your phone’s battery, and if needed will plug it with his, you never really catch him doing it, and you’re confused why your phone’s always charged.

⠀ 𖥻 𝗢2 : QUALITY TIME

Shoto doesn’t really need you to entertain him. Just being in the same space as you, is enough for him, you can be both doing your own things.

If you’re reading a book in bed, he’ll slide beside you, reviewing some paperwork, no one talks, but after an hour, you slide closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder, and without lifting his head, he just accommodates, his hand wrapping around your figure, just so it’s easier for him to hold the papers. 

He comes back home, greets you from the door, expecting you to be on the couch, watching a show or taking a nap, but to his surprise you’re on the kitchen, cooking an early dinner. You turn to him, smiling and explaining that you just got bored and decided to try something out, he nods, gets closer, standing behind you and watches you do your own thing. 

Without turning towards him you ask: “Aren’t you going to shower?” 

He’s still in his uniform, hair slightly tousled, he looks tired.

“After” He mumbles stepping closer, his head dropping to your shoulder. 

And you just let him be, continuing whatever you’ve started.

You’re the one asking him to take you training with him, it’s either the gym at his agency, or just training in a field, but you’re not fighting one another, just side by side. He’s doing his drills, and you’re on the other side doing your own, he’ll look for you from time to time to see if you’re still there, and if you’re out of it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀──────── RECIEVING

⠀ 𖥻 𝗢𝟭 : WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

Shoto cannot read between the lines or the subtle clues you may leave, he hates tension, lies or passive agression. He needs you to be explicit, explain to him from A to Z.

He isn’t one to be good at giving words of affirmation, but he absolutely loves it when you just blurt some for him. His internal voice isn’t really kind about him, always there to remind him of every little thing, every past mistake.

He needs you there to remind him that he’s lovable not just useful, he’ll repeat them to himself to try and break from his ugly thoughts. 

⠀ 𖥻 𝗢2 : PHYSICAL TOUCH

Shoto won’t be one to initiate physical touch, not because he doesn’t like it, he always second guesses it, reaches out and in the end, doesn’t proceed with it , he’s in his space until there’s a sudden, fleeting touch from you and he loves it.

Shoto doesn’t ask for it, but you know better than to believe what he shows.

He loves when it’s casual, without a thought behind it, whether you rest your hand on his forearm as you walk together, or having your hand in his when it’s crowded, you don’t want to lose him. When your knees touch under a table, because you’re sitting so close one to another. 

If there’s ever something on his hair, or his shirt, you’re quick to brush the piece out of his attire without saying anything.

After a hard mission or when he’s injured, you’re quick to check his injuries yourself with careful, shaky hands, even if he reminds you that the medics already took care of him, you tell him to stop moving and he smiles fondly, because in these moments he know you care about him.

If he’s ever having a hard time, you’re sitting beside him, not uttering a word, because he doesn't really need that right now, he knows talking about it is pointless, it’s all in his head. You’re sitting so close that your shoulders press together, silently reminding him that you’re here, your hand on his knee, palm flat, and if he ever hold your hand, your thumb is rubbing small circles on his skin, you don’t squeeze it, just holding it.

When it’s cold, you take the initiative to grab his left hand, warm and hot, holding it between both of yours, trying to melt the cold out of yours, and he can’t keep himself from smiling at the sight, slinging both of your hands in his left pocket.

He often rests his head in your lap, if you’re ever in the couch, occupied with something, he’ll silently slide up to you, rest his head on your lap, and squeeze his eye shut, letting you run your fingers through his hair, tracing the scar over his eye with your fingertips, and it just relaxes him.