#shoto

you get into a fight and the mha boys find out

Katsuki Bakugou

Izuku Midoriya

Shoto Todoroki

dividers by @/strangergraphics

tags: mdni! smut, dom(ish) sho, missionary, p in v, hair pulling, a luh rough (maybe ooc i’m sorry)

bfprohero!todoroki x femgf!reader - shoto loses his composure in front of your eyes

a/n: i feel sho is a softdom, the sweestest dom actually, but yk… a softdom is still a dom… 👀

shoto todoroki had never been easy to read. not to anyone, and sometimes, not even to you— his girlfriend. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, that was just how he was. he was a great boyfriend, always so sweet and caring. he took care of you, never letting stress get to that pretty head of yours. you were the flame and he was a mere moth, enamored by your being.

so when you saw him come back from work one day, shoulders sagging and expression etched with frustration, it was unfamiliar. bad days weren’t unfamiliar, no, but him carrying it home was. in an instant, you were on your feet, heading over to him.

“hey. bad day?” you asked gently, taking off some of his gear and setting it aside. seeing him so weary brought a pang to your heart. he responded with a bleak nod, already heading for your shared bedroom. you could see how exhausted, or maybe frustrated, he was. you couldn’t exactly tell.

“the guy i fought brought up touya. i lost my composure, went overboard.” he explained, continuing to walk to the bedroom.

you gave him a moment, then followed him in, closing the door softly behind you. he just stood there, and now the distinction between frustration and exhaustion was clear.

your feet brought you to stand in front of him, your hands massaging his shoulders lightly. then, sweetly, you brought your lips to his, presenting a kiss. normally, his hands would’ve resided on your waist or hips. you felt only one go to your hip, squeezing your skin, and the other shooting to your hair.

but he didn’t just let it rest in your hair, no. he fisted your luscious strands, grabbing hard.

you let out a soft whine from the sudden tug, the sensation new but… tasteful. the hand he had on your hip moved to the waistband of your shorts, tugging. you broke away from the kiss to quickly shed your clothes, leaving you bare.

his eyes didn’t wander like they normally did. they bore into yours instead, gesturing to the king-size bed behind you.

“go.”

he used the same tone as he did when commanding sidekicks— and it certainly commanded you. you sat on your side of the bed, watching him closely as he stalked over to the edge, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he took off his hero costume.

this was a new side of him you hadn’t seen before. with intimacy, it had always been free-flowing, and he was a gentle giant. nonetheless, the effect was the same. warmth and moisture consumed your core, against your will.

he grabbed your ankle firmly, pulling you to the edge of the bed. he stood between your legs, taking a look of your body laid out beneath him before leaning down to kiss you roughly again. your legs immediately moved to wrap around his waist, whimpering against his lips as his finger found your clit, circling the nerve brutally.

he pulled away to breathe, adjusting himself so his leaking cockhead pressed firmly against your opening, not pushing in just yet. he typically liked to take his time with you, but today had him in the mood for immediate relief— and you were not complaining.

“look.” he commanded, fisting a handful of your hair and forcing you to look down between your bodies to see where they connected. he held your head there as he began to push into you, the sopping walls of your pussy accepting him gracefully.

only did he let you put your head back down when he’d bottomed out inside you, leaving your mouth slightly agape and a deep arch in your back. he hooked both your ankles over his shoulders, then bent one of his legs and propped it onto the bed, keeping the other planted on the floor. he began to thrust into you, with a punishing but pleasurable snap of his hips. immediately, moans slipped off your tongue, your hands rushing to grip the sheets.

he may not have been fucking you fast, but he was sure as hell fucking you hard. and it felt so good.

then, he began to speed up, not only fucking you intensely, but quickly.

“sho— please— oh fuck,” you sputtered, turning into a mess over the covers. your pathetic whimpers filled the room, as your body grew to be newly and blissfully overwhelmed.

“s-slower, please— ngh—!” you whined, but he didn’t let up. the whines and whimpers continued, your hands desperately reaching for his as they held your thighs.

“stop— fuck,” he groaned, actively trying to hold himself back from finishing his sentence.

“stop,” thrust, “fucking,” thrust, “complaining.”

never had he ever verbally commanded you like that, but fuck if it didn’t make you hornier. so you obliged.

“you can handle it.” he reaffirmed. his pace and intensity were relentless, and part of you wished he came home upset more often. your body had never felt so electrified— not to say the sex before wasn’t good— but this was so foreign.

he leaned forward, making your legs push closer to you as well, pushing you to your limit. a hand left your thigh to cup your face, roughly and gently at the same time, and make you look at him.

he came right after you, filling your puffy pussy with his warm seed. in short, it was the most exhilarating sex you’d ever had.

“sorry. was i too rough?” he said, his eyes flashing with concern. you shook your head, smiling and taking your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist.

I opened the ancient vaults and pulled out an idea I've had for years.

Introducing Cat Show Judge Aizawa. He will be judging all the MHA characters as cats, starting with Izuku. He is a strict but fair judge, and takes his job seriously.

Unlike to common belief SHOTO is not dense when it comes to love. Shoto is dense to the social/verbal explainations of love. Because for shoto: everything is direct for him. His words, his actions, his thoughta and his feelings... He does not play around with words or sentences like "butterfly in stomach" / "i feel like im gonna die when i see you"

SHOTO is VERY good with feelings. He just doesnt like to show them without feeling comfortable around the enviroment he is in. Years of abuse and his mothers stiuation teached him to control his emotions and even bury them when he feels like he must do. He is one the most emphatic and respectful person you can ever see but... he will show this side of him only if he feels comfortable with you. If he feels ssfe with you. Especially if he feels FREE with you.

You can see that shoto usually dont use honorofics when he talks, which is weird because anyone else in japan or who talks japanese would thought this is the rudest thing you can do. But after you really get to know shoto... you know that he is the least possible human being to be mean unless he thinks there is an asshole in front of him. Shoto is kind, considerate and gentle, even with Katsuki.

Because for Shoto, verbal actions means nothing unless you show and proof it. He does not believe in kind words like he he believes in kind actions.

So when it comes to love, shoto is the most direct person you'll ever see... the moment he confirms that he loves you and ready for an relationship he will confess his love directly to your face like he is doing a chitchat with you.

And after you accept it... you will see both mix of boyfriend act and courting from him. Because shoto want know you by layer by layer... every details and unique habits you have, so that he can always respect your boundaries and also shares his with you... You would get probably shocked with this side of him after seeing the public side of his general actions.

Yes, he loves 1A and shows his insides a little bit more with his class... but with you, its even more deep. Because after realising his romantic feelings for you, shoto would take some time to decide if he should or should not take a step to you. Mostly because of his trauma with parents, his goals for school and future. But after war... especially seeing his older brother... he would decide that there is no day like today to let himself what he wants to do or enjoy the moments with the people who is in his life.

Shoto is passionate. In everything. His goals, his studies, his revenge, his feelings... anything im his life. Because once shoto is sure about something, ANYTHING, he will do his best towards it.

So naturally, he is REALLY passionate with his lover too. Because for him, meaning of loving someone is sharing his deepest and most unknown sides in him with you. He will love you patiently, passionatly and gently...

he really didn’t mean to find it.

he was just scrolling. looking for that one soba recipe—the one you’d made with him last winter, the one you’d changed a bit because it “needed more personality.”

he didn’t even remember taking the photo. didn’t even remember handing you his phone.

but it was there.. you, in his old shirt, half off your shoulder, legs tucked up on the couch like you were bored but your eyes weren’t. they were staring right at the camera, mouth barely parted like you knew what kind of vibe the photo gave off.

he stared at it for a while, not being game enough to move at all he was so entranced by the photo.

and then it hit him.

he was extremely—painfully—aroused.

he didn’t like that word. it sounded too dramatic, but that’s what it was. his pants were too tight, his face was hot.

his body felt tense in a way that wasn’t comfortable. and it wasn’t like he didn’t know what this feeling was. it was just… inconvenient.

he looked around like he was doing something wrong, which was stupid. it was his kitchen… and you were his girlfriend. of two years.

and still, still he didn’t know how to just do anything about it. he didn’t know how to be cool or charming.

he only knew that denki had said something once something like—“you gotta be smooth, bro. like, say stuff that makes her squirm. squirm, shoto. it’s the key.”

he didn’t know what that meant, but he was determined to learn!

so he walked to the bedroom, opened the door and there you were.

laying on your stomach, legs half kicked up, a pillow under your chest and your phone in front of you like you weren’t the most unfairly beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

he stood there too long. just watching, trying to make the right move.

then—very carefully—he climbed onto the bed. hands planting on either side of your head, his knees sinking into the mattress near your thighs, his chest nearly brushing your back.

you turned your head a little. “oh? hey baby.”

he swallowed.

“…hello,” he said quietly. his voice had dropped lower

he wasn’t sure what the next step was. what came after hovering.

he didn’t know what “smooth” would do.

but you were looking at him now. he could feel your gaze, even from the corner of your eye.

“you left a photo on my phone,” he murmured. “from before… you’re wearing my shirt in it.”

a pause.

“it made me feel…” he blinked. “strange. in a good way.”

his arms tensed just a little, fingers pressing firmer into the blanket. he leaned down more, mouth closer to your ear now, warm breath brushing your cheek.

“that’s why m’like this right now,” he added, a little more blunt than he meant. “because of that.”

then he adjusted himself just barely—closer now, hips brushing against your lower back, soft noise escaping his throat like he didn’t mean to let it out.

“do you feel it?” he asked plainly, glancing down. “that’s because of you.”

a beat passed.

then—almost like he realized it too late—his eyes flicked up again, lips parting just a little as he leaned in, his mouth ghosting over your ear.

he nudged his nose into your hair, the smell making him feral and honestly you were speechless at the act

“can you tell i want you? or is this too polite?”

you swallowed. “no.. no i can tell..”

when you shifted under him—just slightly—hips tilting, back arching faintly in a soft kind of squirm, it hit him a little too hard. he blinked down, fingers pausing for a second like he had to recalibrate.

then slowly, so gently it was almost awkward, his hand slid beneath your stomach and pressed up, coaxing your body until you were rolling under him.

his thumb brushed your hip. then your ribs. then right under the curve of your chest.

you were looking at him now. a little confused, a little pink in the cheeks. lips parted like you were gonna say something but didn’t.

he leaned down, not thinking too hard but pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

then pulled back. stared.

usually this part didn’t happen unless you did something. he wasn’t smooth. he just sort of… lingered.

and then you’d get the idea, maybe kiss him harder, maybe ask gently, maybe tug him in.

but this time, you were shy.

and he wasn’t sure why, but it made him feel really good.

his eyes stayed on you. lips parting just slightly. his voice came out a little lower again

“are you okay?”

“mhm! i’m— i’m fine— are you.. uh okay?”

“mm.. i’m fine.”

his hand moved along your waist, your side, brushing right along the swell of your chest and then gently back down again.

his hand begun to explore towards your bra, so slow and patient like it wasn’t killing him inside.

“you’re not looking at me anymore.” he spoke and you realised your eyes had automatically drifted away.

your cheeks heated up so fast you could feel the red.

he hummed then leaned in, pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, then your jaw.

“not very nice” he whispered, lips warm against your skin. “hiding from me like that.”

his hand lifted again, returning to your chest this time—more pressure now, gentle kneading.

when you squirmed a little, body shifting under his hand as he gently rolled you onto your back, he didn’t think much of it—at first.

your eyes darted from his, that was new.

“you’re not usually like this. you’re usually confident or .. bold.”

he blinked, studying your face.

“are you embarrassed?”

“what— no!” but the blush on your cheeks only made him laugh softly,he tilted his head a little, lips close to your temple.

“it’s cute.”

his hand slid higher tracing the mould of the bra. “does this make you nervous?” he asked softly, pressing another kiss near your jaw. “me touching you like this?”

his other hand was under your back now, fingers splayed wide as he held you close.

a small whimper left your mouth in response feeling his large hand grip your boob in his hand.

“you do this to me all the time,” he mumbled, mouth near your collarbone now, breath warming your skin. “touch me and kiss me without asking. and i never know how you make it look so easy.”

another kiss, a little lower.. right near the top of your chest.

“so maybe this is how you feel. when i just…” he kissed again. “do it.”

“shoto-“

“you look very pretty right now.” his voicd cut yours off whilst his hand squeezed a little firmer.

you made a soft noise from the roll of his thumb over your hardening nipple and turned your face.

“there it is again. not looking at me.”

he kissed your cheek, then the side of your nose, then your lips again.

“m’sorry.. just a lot..”

“do you want me to stop?” he asked, but his voice didn’t sound nervous anymore, your head turned now.

“no! no no no please—“

he kissed you again, smiling this time. soft and warm and proud.

“guess not.”

he really didn’t expect you to go quiet, you were always the one teasing him and making him blush but now you were underneath him barely able to form a sentence.

his hand dragged slow beneath your shirt, cool fingers brushing the warm skin of your stomach

“your skin’s warmer than usual” he mumbled, dragging his knuckles along your ribs. “you’re not sick, are you?”

you scoffed—or tried to. it came out weak, breathy. “no.. you know that.”

his smile grew.

“oh. it’s because of me?”

you turned your head again.

he leaned down again, kissed your cheek then your jaw, then just below your ear.

his other hand shifted now, dragged down your waist slow and steady until his thumb caught at the waistband of your shorts.

he paused there and didn’t go lower.

“you said something earlier about needing me.” he said, looking down at you through his lashes, “but now you’re not saying anything.”

your hips twitched, you couldn’t even talk if you wanted too.

his thumb dipped under the fabric. just barely.

“you do still want me, right?” he asked, tilting his head. “or was that just talk?”

“noo— sho stop!” you huffed frustrated at all this sarcasm. “you know i want you..” your voice was a low grumble.

his grin twitched back into place

“you don’t sound very sure.” he spoke biting back a laugh.

he dipped his fingers deeper now, past the waistband of your panties, the coldness from his fingertips hitting your soaked pussy like ice.

his fingers didn’t have a pattern, not necessarily he was just touching to touch.

your hips twitched again, thighs clenching, and he tilted his head slightly, blinking down at the way your eyes were still pointed somewhere to the side, anywhere but him.

“you’re not looking at me again,” he murmured, voice soft and low like he was talking to himself.

he twisted his wrist a little, fingers dipping deeper, dragging through the mess he’d already pulled from you.

and there it was—that sound. and audible example of how wet you were, panties soaked through his lips twitched knowing he was the one to get you like that.

you let out a small whine, body tense your hands gripping the blanket like it had wronged you.

he smiled to himself watching every shift of your face closely.

his fingers circled again, enough to hear that sticky sound from your pussy that he was suddenly so addicted to.

“you’re so wet. more than usual.”

your breath caught and he pressed closer, mouth near your ear now kissing your cheek then your temple.

then dragged his fingers up again. slower this time. back down. messier.

“soaked,” he whispered, almost in awe whilst your legs twitched

his fingers slid in deeper this time giving you the first stretch, two long fingers slowly falling in and out of your weeping hole.

“do you want me to stop?” he asked.

you shook your head. “mm-mm.. please don’t..”

he hummed “then look at me.”

you didn’t, his fingers curled against your gushy walls pulling another wet sound from your cunt, your body jolted.

“that’s not looking.”

“sh-shoto please.” you begged, a mix of absolute horniness and frustration had you pleading for more.

he blinked.

“are you upset?”

you shook your head again.

“then why do you sound like that?”

his fingers curled against you again. “shh.. don’t even have to talk, just lay back and look pretty..”

your whines kept coming, kept building, this needy little plea under every breath.

he could hear every sound and every frustrated exhale when you didn’t get what you wanted.

and your hips kept chasing him, little rocks forward, little shivers when he pulled back.

it was adorable. it was pathetic.

he was grinning now, trying not to laugh outright, shoulders rising and falling with these quiet little chuckles under his breath.

and while you were distracted, while your head was tipped back and your eyes fluttering half-shut, he finally shoved his sweats down.

and when he settled between your legs, you didn’t even realize—still letting out those breathless whines

“mmhh— sho! please i need more!”

he stayed quiet.. until his hand came up, thumb and forefinger gripping your cheeks gently, squishing them just enough to make your lips pout and your eyes meet his.

he tilted his head. “look at me.”

and the moment your eyes finally met his, he started pushing in so desperately slow.

inch by inch.

and fuck, he felt it—how tight you were. how hot your pussy was around only half the length of his cock, your walls fluttering around him like they were welcoming him.

his breath stuttered, catching in his throat, head tipping forward slightly, forehead almost resting to yours. the sight of shoto rested above you failing to catch his breath couldve make you cum right there.

“oh—fuck…” he whispered.

“you’re…” another slow roll of his hips, and he let out a strained groan, “…gripping me so hard.”

“s-shoto!! .. fuck me please!”

his lips parted. “…say that again.”

“mhh— shoto!” your voice fell weaker from the tease

his grin widened. “say it louder.”

you tried, you did—but your breath hitched halfway through and your head tipped back again.

he clicked his tongue, “nope” he mumbled, slowly pulling back an inch. “not loud enough.”

“n-no! i’msorryimsorryplease!!”

“i said say it louder.” he repeated, just barely rocking forward again, only enough for you to feel it, not enough to give it.

“you want me to stop?”

you shook your head quickly.

he blinked.

“…so say it.”

you did, loud this time, your voice shaking all over again. “f-fuck me please shoto!! please fuck me!”

his hands squeezed your waist at the same time his breath left him.

his hips began to rock slowly forward, grinding the rest of his length inside of you before his cock slowly started to disappear in and out of your wet pussy.

“good girl…”

he kissed your jaw, then your lips, soft little pecks between each word, each thrust.

“see? you can be polite when you want something.”

your nails dug into his muscular back feeling the ripples of toned flesh beneath you, he only smiled harder.

he picked up the pace slightly, just to hear that breathless little cry again. the snap of his hips knocked the air out of you completely.

“embarrassed?”

you didn’t answer, only bit down on your lower lip, eyes falling to where his cock was abusing your dripping pussy. his pelvis his your clit just right at the perfect angle, making your thighs shake.

he laughed. “you look it.”

his thrusts got sharper, your legs wrapping around him as he fucked himself into you.

his eyes dropped to your lips, still parted and wet.

“pretty when you blush,” he whispered, dragging his thumb across your cheek wiping a stray tear.

“pretty when you moan. even prettier when you do both at once.”

your body arched feeling the thick tip of his dick hammering into you at a relentless pace, you couldn’t barely breath.

“ffffuhhck— shoo-shotooo!!”

the overwhelming wave of emotions had you on the verge of tears, but everytime his voice dropped into a sarcastic mutter he could feel your pussy flutter and grip him tighter.

“you like this,” he muttered, half in disbelief.

“you like when i’m mean to you.”

he kissed you again, messier this time, hand tangled in your hair whilst his tongue swallowed every last one of your moans and crys, thumb wiping your tears as he tongued your warm mouth.

“tell me i’m wrong,” he said as he pulled apart the smallest inch so his lips were still against yours, his hips rolled deeper grinding slow rolls, the tip of his dick rubbing that one weakened spot inside of you.

“go on. tell me.”

but you didn’t, just dug your teeth into your lower lip.

his hand caught both your wrists, lifted them up, settled them against the pillow—slow, not controlling at all, big palm warm around both your wrists like he was claiming space.

“leave ‘em there,” he mumbled, voice low, lips brushing the side of your face as his hips harshly collided with yours, hitting the deepest and most sensitive spots you have

he liked watching your face when you were flustered like this.

and fuck, you were always a little mouthy—had no problem teasing him, poking him, saying bold shit when it was daylight and you had clothes on.

but now? under him? his hand pinning your wrists, your body shaking under the weight of his hips?

all shy and whiny. couldn’t even look him in the eye. he grinned again.

you bit your lip. moaned something broken.

he groaned softly, eyes fluttering shut a second. your body around him was insane. every twitch of your hips made him go harder without meaning to.

“mmhh— so.. damn tight.” he breathed, tongue against his own lip before he dipped down lower.

your tits were bouncing slightly with the rhythm of his hips, and he didn’t even think—just dropped his mouth to your chest.

lips warm and wet, tongue tracing soft, lazy circles before he sucked gently, then rougher.

you let out this shaky moan that had his eyes roll back just a little.

his mouth closed fully around your nipple now, suckling gently, fingers tightening around your wrists above you. his cock was bulging through, leaving a prominent outline on your lower tummy.

he moved to the other one, gave it the same slow attention even as his hips kept pounding into you.

and you were so wet—so wet, the kind of soaked that had slick noises under the skin of his thrusts, lewd and obvious and impossible to ignore.

he groaned again, low and full in his throat.

“you’re dripping,” he grunted, “makin a mess.”

your voice finally cracked through again, broken and fucked dumb, he knew you were moaning his name but he was so lost inside of you and whatever you were making him feel he didn’t even care.

“what?” he mumbled against your chest, a teasing lilt in his voice.

you said it again, more desperate. “mhhhsshoootoo!!”

“use your words,” he said, smirking now as his hips angled slightly upward, catching a spot that made your whole body jolt. he had no clue what he just unlocked but your pussy was sucking him in

“that what you want?”

you nodded quickly, head rolling to the side as another moan broke through your lips. your hand fell beside you gripping the bedsheet.

he leaned up now, still keeping your wrists above you, still fucking you hard and deep, but now he was watching your face again.

“tell me.”

“d-don’t stop,” you choked out, voice rough and sweet. he fought back another laugh.

“you’re so pretty when you’re needy like this.” he whispered, dropping kisses down your jaw.

“never wanna stop.”

his body was starting to shake slightly now—stomach tight, skin hot, hair damp against his forehead as he kept going, faster now.

and the way you were squeezing him?

god.

he groaned, almost desperate now, shifting to press his forehead against yours.

“gonna cum..” he whispered, voice strained.

“where do you want it, baby?”

the sound of shoto this dominant had your stomach knotting, the beg for release inside of him had his own hips starts to quicken, pelvis grinding against your sensitive clit.

“w-want in in me— mhhh!! cum in my pussy!!”

his grip on your wrists loosened just slightly.

“yeah?” he murmured, hips twitching again.

“you sure?”

you nodded quickly, “yesyesyes i want all of it!”

he groaned low, hips slamming into you once, twice, then again—

then stilled. a soft, broken sound left his chest as he spilled deep his hips pressing in close, chest flushed against yours, voice stuttering in your ear.

“…fuckfuckfuck—fuck…”

your back arched feeling so full you wanted to cry all over again, his hips rolled slow fucking his cum back into your leaking swollen pussy.

he stayed there for a long second, looking at the aftermath on your beautiful body. then slowly collapsed onto your chest, burying his face against the same skin he couldn’t stop kissing earlier.

“you okay? it was good?” he asked his voice was empty from the sarcasm and teasing, softness crawling back into his tone.

“mhm.. so good.” he smiled at the response.

and when the morning deepened? he was already up, which wasn’t surprising.

clean shirt on, hair wet like he’d showered, sleeves rolled up to his forearms as he stood at the stove calmly stirring something.

like he hadn’t pinned your wrists and fucked you into the sheets until your voice was too gone to keep saying his name.

you blinked a little, standing half-hidden in the hallway, arms crossed over your chest because your shirt was thin and your boobs—god, they ached. he heard you shuffle and turned, soft smile already forming before he even looked at you.

and then—

he saw you.

the limp.

the blush.

the hickeys crawling up your neck like flowers, and the bite marks on your neck like marks.

and his eyes sparkled just a little, trying not to smile.

but still—he was shoto, so the voice was soft and the tone polite.

he crossed the room slowly, towel in his hand, drying his fingers as he approached.

“what do you want for breakfast?”

you gave him the biggest pout, bottom lip out, eyes narrowed like he wasn’t the same man who’d had you on your knees last night begging.

“don’t talk like that,” you mumbled, clinging to his shirt as your forehead dropped gently against his chest, absolutely exhausted.

“like what?”

he was already grinning against your head, arms sliding around your waist as he kissed your hair.

“like you’re not a hidden stupid sex freak” you mumbled again, voice muffled.

he chuckled softly now, warm breath against the crown of your head as he gently kissed it and his hands didn’t wander they just stayed flat across your lower back like he was calming you.

the perfect boyfriend now.

sssooooo polite.

“you said you wanted all of it.”

he said it casually whilst your body tensed slightly in his arms.

“you?!—”

“—don’t even not start,” he interrupted gently, kissing your hair again

like the perfect boyfriend shoto was, he acted in pure concern everytime you winced when you sat down, or when you spent hours trying to hide the hickeys and icing your collarbones covered in purple bite marks. but as the new found ‘sex freak?’ he grinned lowly knowing he did that.

lol! i love this

He doesn’t become suddenly loud or overly expressive just because he’s in love or married. Instead, his affection shows up in small, consistent ways that quietly build a sense of security around you.

He remembers everything important you say. Not just big things like anniversaries, but small preferences too, how you like your coffee, which blanket you always reach for when you’re tired, the way you get quieter when you’re overwhelmed. He doesn’t comment on it every time; he just adjusts his actions around it.

He’s protective, but not controlling. If anything threatens you, his instinct is immediate and sharp, but when things are calm, he gives you full space to be yourself. He trusts you deeply, sometimes more than he trusts himself.

His love language is actions first, words second. He’ll fix broken things in the house before you even notice they’re broken. He’ll quietly warm your side of the bed with his quirk if you’re cold without making a big deal about it. Then, much later, he might just say, “You seemed uncomfortable. I handled it.”

He struggles with expressing vulnerability, but with you, he tries. There are nights where he’ll sit beside you after a long day and just say something simple like, “I’m glad you’re here,” like it costs him effort, but he says it anyway because you matter that much.

He respects you as an equal in every sense. Shoto doesn’t “save” you from your life, he builds a life with you. He values your independence and actually finds it grounding when you take the lead in areas he’s unsure about.

And when he’s tired, truly exhausted from hero work, he gets quieter, almost distant, but never absent. He’ll still find your hand. Still sit near you. Still choose your presence over isolation.

You catch him staring at you sometimes, like he’s still trying to understand how he ended up with something so steady and warm in his life.

If you tease him for it, he’ll just blink and say, “You’re my wife. Of course I’m looking at you.”

No embarrassment. Just truth and on the rare nights when he lets his guard down completely, he leans into you, not dramatically, not dramatically at all, just enough that you feel the weight of trust.