I Really Think I Love You || Shoto x Fem! Reader
No CW, just cute shoto yearning.
Shoto doesnāt remember exactly how you convinced him to download TikTok.
He just remembers a random day in your third yearāyour knee bumping his under the common room table while you guided him through the sign-up screen like it was mission-critical and the way you laughed when he stared too long at the username box.
āOkay,ā youād said, tapping the phone with a decisive little nod. ā@.halfh0thalfc0ld. Iconic.ā
Now, even after graduation, somehow, it had become routine.
Every night, lights off and phone dimmed. Heād scroll for hours with the same detached calm he used during paperwork at his agency ānothing really interesting, justā¦ passing time. He only followed four accountsā¦ you, Asheidoā who basically bullied him into it the second she found out, Midoriyaā who had appeared on his FYP mid-rant about a collectorās edition All Might figure and somehow earned a follow, and the Class A band page Jiro and Kaminari ran, where they posted practice videos and concert clips.
His algorithm knew him better than he liked, funny cats, soba recipes, and hopecore edits.
And then, occasionallyā You.Ā
Your account was popular, you posted often, and many fans had already followed you.
A video of you would slide onto his screen, and his heart would do something annoying and unfamiliar, stutter like it couldnāt decide if it wanted to explode or stop.
Sometimes it was you dancingāusually with Asheido, Asui, or Uraraka. Sometimes it was a āget ready with meā video that made him feel strangelyā¦ calm, like watching you exist was its own kind of quiet. But his favorites were the simplest ones. Just you, messy hair, soft lighting, lip-syncing a song you like.
The worst part was what it did after.
Heād spend the next three to seven business days memorizing the lyrics. Not even on purposeāhis brain would just loop the words until they were carved into him. Then the dopamine would run out, and heād be left with a ringing earworm and melodies that haunted his playlist like unfinished conversations.
It was late. Much later than either of you should be awake.
He was halfway through a cat video when a notification popped up.
@.Y/nOnCloud9 just posted.
Shoto stared at it longer than necessary.
His thumb hovered.
It wasnāt like he had to click it. He could scroll past. He could be normal. He could sleep.
His thumb tapped anyway.
Your face filled his screenāsoft and close, framed in warm light. A blue cardigan hung off one shoulder like it had slipped there naturally. Your hair was messy, the kind of messy that looked lived in, and you were stillā¦ painfully beautiful in a way that made his chest tighten.
You lip-synced slowly to atmospheric chords, eyes half-lidded, voice unheard but somehow still felt. You subtly danced.
Keep my girls protected I'm turned on when I'm respected For my planet, for my daughters Make my music, drink my water
Shotoās thumb hit pause without him thinking.
Because behind youāyour room.
Heād never seen it this clearly. Polaroids scattered across the wall like a constellation of memories. Fairy lights wrapped around your bed frame. A pile of books stacked beside your bed, your room was lived-in. Like a secret you werenāt trying to hideāyour stuffed cow plush tucked into the blankets.
He stared.
Something about it feltā¦ too intimate. Like heād walked into a space he hadnāt earned.
His throat moved in a quiet swallow.
He unpaused.
So I watch you do your magic You're so cool, so charismatic Supernova, sip your soda Yeah, I really think I love you, Lola You were on my mind all night I hope you know that (Lola, Lola) You don't even have to try I want you so bad (Lola, Lola)
He let it play once.
Then again.
Then a third timeābecause the words werenāt the problem, it was the way your mouth shaped them. The way your eyes softened on I really think I love you like you meant it, even if you didnāt.
Something ridiculous started forming in his head.
He found himself studying your lips like he was analyzing a combat pattern.
Lolaā¦
He mouthed it quietly along with you, testing the name like it was a code.
Lo-La.
But it didnāt sit right. The syllables didnāt match what he was seeing.
He paused. Replayed. Rewound.
Watched again, slower.
āLola,ā his brain insisted.
No.
Not Lola.
Your mouth didnāt make an L.
He replayed it again, eyes narrowing, like if he focused hard enough the truth would show itself in high definition.
Yeah, I really think I love youā¦
Your lips formed a softer sound. A breathier start. A shape he knew too well because heād heard it said with exasperation and laughter and that casual affection you used like it wasnāt dangerous.
Not Lo.
Sho.
His ears and neck went hot.
His pulse jumped so hard it felt like it knocked against his ribs.
He rewound again like that would fix it.
It didnāt.
Because now he couldnāt unsee it.
Yeah, I really think I love you, Shoto.
His stomach dipped.
It was insane. It was probably wrong. It was definitelyādefinitelyājust his brain beingā¦ weird.
Except his chest felt too full. Except heād watched it three times and his heart had reacted the same way every single time.
He didnāt just believe youād sung it about him.
He wanted you to.
The realization settled in his bones with uncomfortable clarity.
He wanted you.
Not in the vague, distant way heād tried to label it before. Not in a āsheās my friendā way. Not in a āsheās a valuable team playerā way.
In a please say my name again way.
His thumb moved on its own and double-tapped the screen.
A heart bloomed bright red.
Shoto froze.
Because the like count ticked from 0 to 1.
He was the first like.
His eyes widened a fraction. His breath caught.
āā¦Dammit,ā he muttered under his breathātoo late, because it was already done.
The video looped.
He didnāt stop it.
Instead, almost against his better judgment, he tapped the speech bubble.
The comment section loadedālight, bright, and immediately violent.
Asheidoās profile picture popped up near the top like a jump scare.
@.PinkyQueen67: EXCUSE ME????? šš @.PinkyQueen67: WHO IS LOLA????? ššš @.PinkyQueen67: GIRL WHY ARE YOU SINGING THIS LIKE YOU MEAN IT š«¶š„
Shotoās thumb went still.
He scrolled.
Jiroās comments were next, merciless in the way only she could beāshort, sharp, and aimed directly at the jugular.
@.EarphoneJackOG: āLola.ā Sure. @.EarphoneJackOG: Also your cardigan is literally running from you girl. š @.EarphoneJackOG: Name drop next time. Be brave.
Shoto felt his face heat up again, like Kyoka had reached through the screen and grabbed the secret out of his chest.
More replies stacked under Asheidoās like a growing pile of gasoline.
@.PinkyQueen67 :(replying to herself): WAIT WAIT WAITā¦ @.PinkyQueen67: IS LOLA A CODE NAME??? š³ @.PinkyQueen67: Blink twice if itās someone we know š„° @.PinkyQueen67: Iām gonna explode. Iām literally gonna explode.
And then under Jiroās.
@.EarphoneJackOG: If āLolaā is who I think they are, Iām gonna commit high octane baptism. @.EarphoneJackOG: jk. but also not jk.
Shotoās throat went dry.
He stared at that line so long the screen dimmed, and he had to tap it to wake it back up.
He scrolled further, and there you were in the replies, trying to play innocent while digging your own grave.
@.Y/nOnCloud9: yāall are so dramatic itās a SONG š @.Y/nOnCloud9: also stop bullying my cardigan itās COMFY @.Y/nOnCloud9: and Lola isā¦ Lola. š§āāļø
Asheido immediately pounced.
Ā @.PinkyQueen67: THAT ANSWER IS ILLEGAL.Ā @.PinkyQueen67: āLola is Lolaā??? GIRL.Ā @.PinkyQueen67: Iām coming to your flat. Unlock your door. šāāļøšØ
Jiro followed with the kind of comment that sounded calm but carried the threat of a guillotine.
Ā @.EarphoneJackOG: You know we can hear your lies through the screen, right?Ā @.EarphoneJackOG: Drop the name or Iām telling Kaminari youāre in love.
Shotoās ears burned so hard he could feel it in his neck.
Becauseā¦ because what ifā
He scrolled back up to the top again, watching your mouth shape the lyric on loop, and he couldnāt stop the thought that kept pushing forward like it belonged.
Not Lola.
Shoto.
He wantedāstupidly, selfishlyāhe wanted you to do it again.
He wanted you to sing it clearly.
He wanted you to say his name without a filter, without a code name, without pretending it was ājust a song.ā
He wanted you to mean it.
Shoto stared at the comment box for a moment, thumb hovering like it did whenever he was about to do something reckless.
He didnāt type.
He didnāt know what he could possibly say that wouldnāt explode his life.
So instead he did the only safe thing his body would allow.
He watched the video again.
Slower.
And somewhere down the hall, he could almost picture it, Asheido storming, driving to your flat, Jiro with her arms crossed, Kaminari beside her, both of them hunting the truth like it had a bounty on it.
Shoto swallowed hard, locked his phone, and set it face-down on his pillow like it had betrayed him.
His heart didnāt slow down. And in the dark, with his ears still burning, one thought repeated like a chorus he couldnāt escapeā¦ say it again.
