Growing up feeling like you didn't quite belong anywhere is actually incredible training for writing characters. because you spent years watching how groups work from the outside. how people perform for each other. what the room looks like when you're not entirely in it. you thought you were missing something. you were actually just taking notes from a very uncomfortable angle for a very long time. the belonging thing still stings a little. the writing is very good though.
Synopsis: Clubs had never been your scene. Always too loud, everything was sticky, the drinks were never anything spectacular; just not how you would choose to spend your Friday night. But, you'd only been in the city for barely under six months now, and Esumi had insisted you join the group tonight. Everything had been going well, until the one person from the office you'd been trying to avoid decided he was tired of taking 'no' for an answer...
That was when the terrifying stranger you'd seen earlier in the night, came to your rescue.
Tags: Non-sorcerer AU, Sukuna x Plus-size F!Reader, alcohol consumption, body insecurity, body image issues, size difference, size kink, smut (oral, m recieving), edging, genital piercings, sexual harassment (not Kuna), mild hurt/comfort (kinda), mild angst, Sukuna's a dick but not to reader, kinda ooc Kuna, no use of y/n, if I missed any let me know
MDNI - 18+
W/C: 8,259
A/N: Hi! This is my first time writing for Sukuna but I had a ton of fun with it. Plus it feels good to FINALLY get something finished after months of writers block and mental health struggles. I'm thinking about turning this into a series of oneshots and I'd love to know if people are interested because I have lot of ideas and finally have the motivation to write again! Thanks for reading!
A/N 2: Also a HUGE shout-out and thank you to @sunwornink for both of your plus-size reader JJK series! You inspired me to write one of my own! ❤️❤️
Clubs had never been your scene. Always too loud, everything was sticky, the drinks were never anything spectacular; just not how you would choose to spend your Friday night. But you'd only been in the city for less than six months now, and Esumi had insisted you join the group tonight. Apparently, it was Akemi from accounting's birthday or something, and they had invited, what seemed like half the company, out to celebrate.
So instead of staying home, curled up on the couch with a glass of wine and a cat in your lap; you'd squeezed yourself into a pair of high-waisted dark jeans you hadn't worn in a while, and a cute loose graphic crop top that perfectly hid the things you wanted it to. Your favorite faux leather jacket was tucked into the booth with a couple of other coworkers while you went to get drinks for yourself and Esumi.
The pulse of the bass throbbed loud enough to feel like it rattled your bones. Maybe if it hadn't felt like you'd been forced to come, it would have been more bearable. But for the most part, you avoided places like this. Crowds made you uncomfortable and all too conscious of how much space you took up. You'd always been a bigger girl, hyperaware of the fact that you'd never look like the people you saw on billboards and tv. But that was something you'd come to accept a long time ago (or tried too anyway).
You weren't anyone's ideal 'type,' at least not physically. However, that just gave you more space to work on the parts of yourself you did like. You knew you were smart, you'd always loved learning, and you had a mind for strategy. So, when you went to university, you devoted yourself to your studies, graduated with honors, and had multiple job offers waiting. That was a few years ago, and your sharp that mind was one of the biggest reasons you'd managed to land your current position. 'Assistant' didn't sound particularly elegant or exciting on its own, but when you pair it with the fact that you were the executive assistant to the President/CEO of Kamo Industries, suddenly everyone looked at you differently.
Ice clinked against the glass when the bartender set your drinks down. You passed over a handful of bills, and scooped up the overpriced liquor to make your way back to the safety of your booth. Roughly halfway there, a prickling sensation on the back of your neck flared to life again. You'd felt it when you first walked in too, the unmistakable feeling of being watched.
Taking a half-step to the side, you pressed your back against a nearby pillar to avoid a possible collision as other bodies surged back and forth between the bar and dance floor.
Whiskey burned as it raced down your throat, warming you from the inside, and easing some of the anxiety that coiled tight in your belly. You scanned the room as you took another sip, and ignored the way goosebumps made the hair on your arms stand on end.
You'd almost finished your sweep of the area, almost convinced yourself you'd imagined it, when you saw him.
In a dark corner of the VIP section, he was sprawled on a couch like a king on his throne. His black dress shirt had been unbuttoned just far enough to hint at the powerful build hidden beneath. The taut muscle of his forearms flexed visibly thanks to the sleeves rolled to just below his elbows; heavy inked bands wrapped around his wrists like shackles, and gleamed faintly when the pulsing light kissed his skin. Sharp tattoos accentuated the dangerous line of his jaw, and only made the predatory look on his face that much more devastating.
You could have ignored him, could have reminded yourself that men like that don't notice girls like you; had you not caught the way his eyes tracked the movement of your glass when you brought it back to your lips.
The overwhelming noise of the club fell away, as butterflies erupted in your stomach under the weight of his attention. Your heart felt like it was trying to leap from your chest and run the other way, when his gaze lifted to lock with yours.
Heat bloomed low in your belly with the intensity in his eyes. Light flashed over him again, catching on the soft salmon of his hair — a color that shouldn't work so well on someone as obviously dangerous as him.
You probably would have stood there all night, frozen under the sheer magnitude of his attention, had Esumi not appeared out of nowhere. Her arm looped through yours, pulling you back toward your booth and a few other people you recognized.
"Oh my god! What took so long?! Did you get lost or something?" She leaned in close to speak against your ear, the warmth of her laughter helped to slow your racing heart. But even as she dragged you away, it was a monumental effort not to turn back to see if he was still watching.
With a huffed chuckle, you extended the entirely too sweet cocktail you'd bought for her, "You could say that."
You sounded breathless, even to your own ears. Thankfully, short of giving you a curious look she didn't push further. Already you could feel the start of a headache coming on.
"Oooo, thank you!"
Her slim fingers wrapped around the fizzy pink drink. In a matter of seconds, you were back at the table. As you sat down, a couple of people gave you polite smiles before returning to their previous conversations. Their attention felt frigid after the heat of the stranger’s stare — a cold splash of reality to remind you not to let your imagination get the best of you.
There was a faint, barely perceptible tremble in the tips of your fingers from the emotional whiplash of the last few minutes; between the strangers heated gaze, Esumi's bubbling enthusiasm, and the cold indifference of your other coworkers, your brain was working on overdrive trying to process it all. Another sip of the amber liquid had a flush rise to your cheeks from the alcohol, and left a pleasant faint vanilla after-taste.
The combination of the overcrowded heat in the club and the warmth of the liquor, made you thankful you'd worn a comfortable loose top. Even with it, you felt like you were on the verge of overheating… or maybe it was your own anxieties getting the better of you.
The booth creaked and dipped as someone sat down beside you.
"Hey! I didn't think I'd see you here tonight!"
Dread filled your stomach immediately, and you tried to subtly put a bit more space between the two of you. Of course, the one person you'd hoped to avoid managed to find you.
"Hey, Kishimoto," despite your best effort, a hint of irritation bled through in your tone. Fortunately, he didn't seem to notice, or maybe he didn't care.
"Aww, none of that! I told you to call me Akihiro," he paused, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips before he spoke again. "You could even call me Aki, if you wanted to."
This had been happening almost since the day you started. Kishimoto was one of the senior management members for Kamo Industries. Although young in comparison to many of the other senior managers, he'd already proven himself when he snagged a client out from under the Gojo Corporation — a slight that had not been forgotten based on the emails and phone calls you'd been fielding ever since.
It wasn't even that he was unattractive either — his dark hair was always nicely styled, warm brown eyes shone beneath heavy brows. He took care of himself, that much was apparent. The problem was that he was that very stereotypical 'nice guy', who thought that just because he treated you like a human, he deserved an award.
"And I told you, Kishimoto works just fine for me."
Movement from the corner of your eye drew your attention to where Esumi and your other friend, Tatsuki, were dancing. Bright smiles lit their faces as they moved to the beat, Esumi’s neon pink cocktail glowed under the clubs shifting lights. Tatsuki grabbed her free hand and twirled her, the move drawing a laugh out of both of them as they continued to dance and weave through the crowd, until they disappeared from your sight.
A little twist of envy curled in your chest with how carefree they seemed to be. Meanwhile, you could never seem to get out of your own head long enough to fully live in the moment.
Almost unconsciously, your gaze slid back to the dangerous figure from before. He was still there, still gazed out at the crowd with a unique mix of boredom and predatory awareness that missed nothing. His attention moved slowly over the mass of people writhing to the music, like he was surveying his territory...
Or hunting.
The thought sent a shiver down your spine. Beside you, Kishimoto continued to drone on, every so often you'd hum or nod so that he felt like you were listening, even when you weren't. You let his voice fade to the background as you took another sip and watched the crowd shift and move like a wave. Men, women, and everyone in between swarmed the dance floor, the lights shifted from blue, to pink, to purple, and back again. Occasionally the DJ's voice would interrupt to catch the crowd’s attention and spark new life in the people who'd left the chaos to find drinks and air.
It was almost meditative, the pulse of the bass like a stuttered heartbeat that directed each movement. The faint tingle of alcohol in the back of your mind made it easier to tolerate, and even enjoy the chaos, at least from afar. Sometimes you'd catch Esumi's excited grin and return it with a small one of your own. The handsome stranger hadn't looked in your direction again, not that you'd admit you'd been sneaking looks of your own — you tried to push aside the way your chest felt a little too tight when you acknowledged that he'd captured your attention far more than you had his.
Eventually, your glass was empty, and the man beside you was still talking when you stood.
"I'm gonna go get a refill."
"Oh! I'll come with you! Let me buy your next round!"
The air felt heavy as you took a deep breath in an attempt to smother your irritation. Your mother would tell you to be grateful for a man's attention, your father would tell you to be thankful he's willing to put up with your attitude. But there's a difference between respectful attention and greedy entitlement.
Halfway to the bar, you cast a furtive look in the direction of the pink-haired stranger. Except this time when the lights pulsed bright, your vision found an empty couch.
Kishimoto's hand rested at the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd in front of the bar. Your jaw ached with how hard you had to bite back your scathing annoyance. With every step you could feel the way his touch shifted until his fingers no longer rested respectfully against the fabric of your shirt; instead, they'd found their way beneath its hem to ghost his fingertips over the skin of your back.
Revulsion coursed through you as you stepped away, bumping a couple of people in your effort to put some space between you.
"Don't do that."
Your voice was flat, devoid of the barely-there courtesy you'd maintained for the last 20 minutes while he talked at you.
His head tipped to one side, almost like a confused puppy when he asked, "Do what?"
Anger flared in your chest at his blatant attempt to act oblivious.
"Keep your hands to yourself, Kishimoto."
His eyes widened, "I'm so sorry! I just didn't want you to get lost in the crowd."
False innocence coated every word as he smirked.
A biting retort danced on the tip of your tongue, but before you could unleash it, the bartender appeared in front of you.
"What can I getcha?" Dark hair that had once been carefully styled, now hung in casual disarray thanks to the madness of the evening. Bright blue eyes almost glowed thanks to the backlit bar behind him. He was cute in a way that made you feel like he might actually be someone you'd approach outside of a place like this.
You opened your mouth to order, only for Kishimoto to speak first.
"Pomegranate chu-hai, for the lady," he grinned at you. "And a gin and tonic for myself."
A slight frown pulled the corner of your mouth. It wasn't that you wouldn't drink it, a free drink is a free drink. But that cocktail was far sweeter than your usual whiskey on the rocks; plus, there was so little alcohol in it that you'd have to drink several to even feel a buzz. Already your annoyance with the man had started to ruin the light tingle your first drink left behind.
The crowd shifted and forced someone to take a step back. You stumbled slightly as they knocked into you, and forced you against Kishimoto, whose eyes lit up the moment you stepped into his space. His hand immediately settled on your lower back again, and thanks to the mass of bodies, you no longer had room to get away from him.
"Kishimoto," he looked down at you with wide, innocent eyes. "Move your hand."
He grinned, the usual playfulness dropped just enough to show something else that made your stomach turn.
"Sure thing, babe."
Distantly, you were aware of another shift in the throng that surrounded the bar. The air suddenly felt thick almost like the club itself held its breath to see what would happen next. His hand drifted below the hem of your shirt again; two fingers hooked through a belt loop on your jeans and tugged you closer.
From your peripherals, the bartender looked up from where he'd been pouring something into a shaker. A low voice spoke; his words lost to the throbbing music and pounding of your heart.
"Kishimoto," you tried again. "Hands off."
There was only so much you could do in a crowded club. Plus, you didn't want to risk causing a scene and get reported to your boss. You'd moved across the country for this job; you couldn't afford to lose it. Kishimoto slid a few bills onto the counter when the bartender dropped off your drinks, his eyes never leaving you.
His grip on your belt loop loosened, and you almost let out a sigh of relief, until you felt his pinky replace the other two as the rest of his hand rested against the bare skin of your back. His touch felt like needles on your sensitive skin, and made your stomach turn violently.
"C'mon, you've been flirting with me since the day you started. I've seen the way you look at me. Don't play hard to get now."
Your head ached from months of holding your tongue. Fuck the job, you didn't need it badly enough to deal with this kind of entitlement.
Before you could move, before you even had a chance to get past that thought, heat seeped through the fabric of your shirt as a truly massive presence appeared behind you. A heavy arm wrapped around your middle and pulled you free from your coworker’s grip. Your back hit what felt like a solid wall of muscle — for the first time in what seemed like hours, you took a full, ragged breath.
From over your shoulder, another hand reached forward to grasp the fizzy pomegranate drink that still sat where the bartender left it.
"I believe she said 'hands off.'"
The voice was so deep it vibrated through his chest, and into your own as it rumbled above your head. The brunette never got the chance to respond.
A massive hand held your drink above Kishimoto's head… and tipped.
Pink shifted to blue into purple and back again. The energy of the club continued to thrum in the background, people laughed and drank and danced. Yet, here, in this frozen heartbeat, time stopped. Liquor turned neon under the light as ice bounced against dark hair and scattered across the floor.
"What the fuck?!"
You watched in stunned silence as the sticky pink cocktail soaked through his shirt and dripped from his hair. The arm around your middle pulled you another half-step back as the alcohol spread across the floor and threatened to touch your boots. Unlike Kishimoto's touch, your savior kept his grip respectful, if not a little possessive.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Kishimoto reached for a handful of napkins to wipe away the alcohol that stung his eyes. "The fuck gives you the right to get involved in other people's business, huh?!"
Your savior lifted you off the ground like you weighed nothing and carefully set you down beside him.
When he released his grip, a barely-there shiver rushed through you at the sudden loss of contact.
Immediately, you looked up to see who'd saved you, and were hit with a fresh wave of astonishment. Distinctive dark bands of ink wrapped around his wrists and forearm, the color stark against the warm golden tan of his skin. A traitorous flip of your stomach betrayed the thrill that raced down your spine.
Up close, he was devastatingly attractive. It was as if the mass of him never stopped as your eyes followed the lines of tattoos and scars that littered what skin you could see. He had to be at least 6'5", if not taller. Every ounce of his being screamed 'predator,' and you were stuck somewhere between wanting to run and wishing he'd hold you again.
It was only once the heat of him fully dissipated that you felt a familiar jolt of delayed self-conscious embarrassment. Normally, you avoided letting people touch your stomach as much as possible, it was one of the parts of yourself you'd always hated the most.
Rather than respond to the soaked Kishimoto, the stranger directed his attention to you. Deep crimson eyes burned with an intensity that made your knees weak and sent heat straight to your core.
"You good?" A muscle ticked in his jaw when he spoke.
You tried to swallow, your mouth suddenly dry under the full force of his attention. His eyes dropped to track the movement before they lifted to meet yours again.
"Yeah, I'm f-"
"Of fucking course she's fine!" Kishimoto interrupted, puffing his chest out as he looked up at the man who stood a full head or more above than him. "You can't just go around interrupting people's conversations. This is none of your business!"
He reached for you again. His refusal to accept your continued rejections was enough to shake you from your shocked stupor. You let the full depth of your frustration show in the seething glare you shot him and sidestepped his grasp.
Your savior chuckled darkly, the sound closer to a growl than actual amusement. He straightened to his full height and faced the brunette in front of him. Broad shoulders rolled beneath his dark shirt as he nodded to the bartender, who you now saw had kept an eye on the altercation.
"You made it my business when you decided to pull that shit in my club."
His club?! Fuck.
"Now," the rough timbre of his voice cut through the din as if even the bass bowed to his presence. "You have two options, and I certainly hope you pick the right one."
Kishimoto's gaze dropped to where you stood next the enormous stranger. He frowned, something like hurt in his eyes.
"Leave now, or…" The crimson eyed man broke into a wicked grin, light caught on the faint points of his canines, making him look even more like a predator. "I'll escort you out myself."
The way the muscles in his forearms flexed and shifted as he clenched his fists told you which option he hoped Kishimoto would pick.
Your coworker shot you one more furtive look before he turned on his heel and pushed his way through the crowd to the exit. You were still watching where he'd disappeared when another rough chuckle broke through the whirlwind of your thoughts.
One arm was braced against the bar as he leaned against it, a somewhat sadistic smirk on his lips as he cast a slow appraising look over your figure. A cross between fear and desire fanned the simmering heat in your core. When he met your eyes again, they burned with something you couldn't place, but it sent a shiver down your spine (that you would forever insist was thanks to the adrenaline coursing through your system).
Just as you opened your mouth to thank him, the bartender returned with two glasses he set in front of the pink-haired man.
They were identical, save for one of the short glasses of amber liquid also housed a singular large ice cube. The sight reminded you that you had far too little alcohol in your system to deal with all the shit Kishimoto had sparked, even if he wasn't around to keep harassing you.
Your approach to the bar was interrupted when the stranger lifted the glass with ice in your direction. Once again you found yourself short-circuiting thanks to another unexpectedly kind gesture from someone you'd never met before.
How did he know your order?
It wasn't until he raised a brow, a barely-there smirk on his lips, and the glass still extended, that you realized you'd frozen. Embarrassment flared hot up the back of your neck and into your cheeks when you cleared your throat and reached for the drink.
The glass was cold as you took it, a stark contrast to the heat of his touch when your fingers brushed his.
"Thanks."
He nodded, his eyes never leaving your face.
"And," you swallowed hard. "Thank you for... that."
You waved your hand dismissively in the direction Kishimoto disappeared. A muscle in his jaw ticked as the smirk fell away.
"You know 'im?"
For the first time that night, you let every bit of your anger show.
"Unfortunately."
You took a sip, expecting the usual burn from your go-to, relatively cheap, whiskey. Instead, your tongue was met with the smooth, smoky flavor of something far too expensive for your budget.
"He's a… coworker. Technically," you mumble the last word with distaste.
He huffed, the sound forcing you to meet his eyes. They're still intense, but there's something dangerous, and considering there too. It's enough to raise fresh goosebumps across your skin the longer you looked.
He'd felt it the moment you'd stepped into the club, it was like something in the atmosphere changed. Fridays were one of the few nights Sukuna allowed himself the time to one of the many clubs under his purview — purely for himself, rather than work. Usually, he'd have a couple drinks, scope out the crowd, and let the few people brave or stupid enough to approach, try. Sometimes they succeeded, most of the time they failed.
It was easy, surface level, no commitment, the kind of night he could ‘work out’ the frustrations of the week from his system and start fresh. Women saw a 'pretty face,' felt the danger of his presence, and thought they could handle it. They wanted the thrill, and he was all too willing to provide.
Then you'd walked in looking like you'd rather be anywhere else.
And once he'd noticed you, it was like his eyes were drawn to you with a magnet. He'd catch himself staring, pull his gaze away, only to find it had drifted back moments later. You were beautiful. The jeans you wore hugged your curves just right, that cropped t-shirt would occasionally shift just enough to expose a little peak of skin that had him craving more. Plus, your clear disdain for crowds and the pounding music only added to the allure. He found himself wondering why you'd come — the question bounced around in his head for far longer than he'd ever admit.
Idle curiosity warped to sharp focus when you froze part way back to the table where you'd left your jacket earlier. He tracked the way your eyes moved carefully through the room, watched appreciatively as you took a sip and didn't flinch at the bite of whiskey when it touched your tongue.
A smug smirk threatened to break his casual façade when you finally caught sight of him. He watched your eyes widened in surprise, and he couldn't help but wonder what was going through your head when your gaze locked with his.
Emotion flashed across your face so fast it was impossible for him to read it all. But when it finally settled, he saw hesitation at war with the hunger in your eyes. He debated going to you then, considered dragging you back to the privacy of his section just to be able to enjoy the shocked look on your face again.
But then your friend appeared and pulled you away.
He continued to watch you, subtly; especially when he clocked the way you moved away from the guy who sat down beside you. Even from this distance he could see the annoyance on your face, and he wondered how the other people around you didn't pick up on it. Sukuna wasn't a good man, he'd never claimed to be. But even he had lines he wouldn't cross.
At some point, one of the many people who worked for him appeared to ask a quiet question. His attention strayed for only a moment, but when he returned his focus to where you'd been, you weren't there. Neither was the man who'd been looking at you with far too much entitlement in his eyes.
Anger sparked in his chest, and the feeling made him stop. He didn't know you, had never even seen you before. He had no real reason to interfere or to justify this strange, almost territorial pull. Still, he didn't question himself further as he rose and pushed his way through the throng.
For most of his life, his considerable height had been a distinct advantage in any endeavor he pursued — this was no different. Sukuna towered over most of the other patrons; his sharp gaze quickly scanned the undulating wave of patrons as he searched. Until, finally, a flash of light hit your shirt and made the fabric glow.
It wasn't often that he got to play hero, but the look of relief and gratitude on your face when that prick finally left was enough to make his chest warm in a way that was almost unpleasant. Though the satisfaction every time he thought back to the way that fizzy pink cocktail dripped down the bastard's face was enough to overpower it.
He'd brought you back to his private booth, one long arm stretched over the back of the couch behind you, his own half-empty glass dangled loosely from his fingertips. You sat beside him, back rigid with a few inches of respectful distance between them. He hated it, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you firmly against his side — to feel the soft give of your flesh beneath his fingers again. But he wouldn't risk scaring you off just yet.
You leaned forward to set your now empty glass on the table. His eyes immediately dropped to where the hem of your top slid up your back just enough to reveal a tantalizing little strip of skin. He swallowed past the desire that made him wonder what you'd taste like, when you leaned back. You still hadn’t relaxed, nervously fidgeting with the fabric of your top like you regretted wearing it.
"This is your club, then?"
He pulled his eyes away from where they'd been watching the deft movements of your fingers to find your attention directed at him now.
"Technically, no." He smirked with a dry chuckle, "Might as well be though."
A frown formed a crease between your brows as you looked at him — really looked. His expression dropped to something closer to wicked satisfaction, because it was true. Technically, he didn't own the club, but the owners did owe its success to he and his family.
"What does that even mean?"
Your flippant tone pulled a low chuckle out of him.
"Means they owe this," he gestured vaguely through the air. "To the people who make sure their doors stay open."
A little hum of acknowledgement settled in your chest and he let his gaze wander over your figure again — the way those jeans clung to your thick thighs made his mouth water.
Cloying sweetness bloomed around them. Sukuna let out a long, drawn-out breath as irritation clawed at the back of his throat. The server — fuck, what was her name? Miki? Sachi? Runa? — shot him a sultry smile as she bent over to deposit fresh refills on the low table in front of them. He choked back a scoff when she somehow managed to squish her tits together in yet another attempt to get him back in her bed.
"Can I get you anything else?" Kaho? Tama? Chiyu? Whatever her name was, batted over-long lashes as she asked.
From his periphery he noticed your, not-so-subtle eye roll, and he couldn't help the huff of amusement that escaped him. Your eyes widened when they darted up to meet his, a faint smile curled at the corners of your mouth, and fuck if he wasn't curious if your lips were as soft as they looked.
"No, thank you," your attention never left him as you answered the server’s question.
A smirk touched his lips when you finally let the tension bleed from your shoulders and leaned back into the couch. His hand moved just enough to let his thumb rest on your shoulder the second you were close enough.
The server cleared her throat in another attempt to get his attention. But his focus remained solely on you. The way the pulsing lights danced in your eyes, the soft spread of your legs when, at last, you decided to trust him — at least a little. He moved as if on autopilot, the heavy muscle of his leg spread to press against your own.
You tensed as soon as his thigh touched yours.
"Don't worry, princess. I don't bite… unless you ask."
A full smug grin broke across his face when you nearly choked, and he caught a jealous huff from the server as she walked away. For the first time that night, your mouth spread in a small, genuine smile as you laughed softly.
"You're bold," your voice was smooth as you called him out.
The slow path of your eyes trailed across his chest with an open appreciation that made his stomach flutter in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. Ice clinked softly within your fresh drink as you took a sip, your eyes locked with his as you did. He tracked the movement of your throat when you swallowed, desire bloomed low in his belly as he imagined how pretty you'd look wrapped around his cock.
"Only when I see somethin' I want."
He watched with delight as your cheeks darkened. But rather than getting shy like he expected, you shifted closer, fanning the fire that burned in his core.
"Oh?"
A flicker of something flashed through your eyes before they settled on the same hunger he was sure was reflected in his. For a moment, he thought you were about to walk away. Instead, you adjusted enough to tuck one leg underneath you and fully face him. You rested your hand on his leg, the tips of your fingers on the inside of his thigh made it clear the placement wasn't an accident.
"Careful, princess," he purred. "Don't start somethin' you can't finish."
The corners of your mouth twitched up with the hint of a smirk. Determination sharpened the already heady expression on your face when you gave his leg a soft squeeze. Sukuna swallowed down a groan, and he was the bold one?
The heavy weight of his hand landed at the nape of your neck, his thumb rubbed gentled against the soft skin beneath it. If you wanted to tease, then so could he. You shuddered under his touch and he had to consciously restrain himself from guiding your hand to where his cock throbbed painfully within the confines of his slacks.
Your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip.
"Who said I can't finish it?"
Sukuna all but growled when your mouth met his with a burning need. You tasted like whiskey and the remnants of whatever subtle gloss you'd applied earlier. A groan rumbled deep in his chest when you met him with the same fervor. The softness of your lips contrasted with the heat of your breath as you moaned softly. He bit your bottom lip, and took the opportunity to sweep his tongue into your mouth when you gasped in surprise.
You slid your hand further up his thigh, tightening your fingers the higher you went. His cock pulsed with need, even as he savored the taste of you on his tongue. Every soft sound that escaped, he eagerly swallowed down, until eventually you were forced to break away just to catch your breath.
That didn't deter him though, his mouth dropped to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your jaw and down your throat. Your skin tasted faintly of something sweet and clean when he dragged his tongue across the open expanse of your neck. A soft whimper slipped passed your lips and made him grin.
He would have continued to devour you, had you not, at last, reached his aching member. Sukuna tucked his face into your neck as he let out a sharp hiss of pleasure from the pressure of your palm, it made his trapped length throb hard enough to feel through the fabric.
Sukuna couldn't stand it anymore, his control snapped as he pulled away and stood. That same flicker he couldn't identify earlier flared to life in your eyes before he extended his hand.
"C'mon, princess. Not doin’ this with an audience."
You could barely hear the music over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. His hand completely engulfed yours as he dragged you through the crowded mass of the club. Want burned low in your belly when the dark hall to a few private rooms came into view. Logically, you knew you should be afraid, or even worried. But the only feeling that rolled through you was an overwhelming desire, mixed with a little undercurrent of anxiety. Not because you thought he'd hurt you, but because of your own insecurities.
The heavy metal door swung open on near silent hinges as he pulled you in behind him. In the same heartbeat that the door clicked shut, he had you pinned against it, both meaty hands on either side of your head. The crimson of his eyes glowed in the low light of the room from where he looked down on you, a stark reminder of the true mass of him.
When his lips claimed yours this time there was no hesitation. He kissed you like a man starved, your mouths locked in a tangle of teeth and tongues and gasped breaths. One of his big hands fell to grasp your waist, his grip tight enough to bruise, but not quite hurt. He growled, actually growled when you bit his lower lip, the soft flesh a delightful contrast to the firm strength of the rest of him.
The fabric of his shirt slid smoothly beneath your hands when you clutched it to pull him closer. Almost unconsciously, he rolled his hips to grind into you, the feel of his hard member drew a soft moan out of you that he eagerly swallowed.
He broke the kiss to press his forehead to yours, a dangerous hunger flickered in his eyes, "Fuck. You're killin' me, princess."
Confidence flared in your chest just long enough for you to loosen your grip and push him back. His eyes widened in surprise while you took in the faint flush on his cheeks and kiss swollen lips.
"Wanna taste you."
The surprise on his face melted into a Cheshire grin, the soft light of the room caught just faintly on the points of his canines.
He chuckled, "Whatever you want, princess."
You weren't sure where 'princess' had come from, but you weren't going to argue. It might be the nicest thing anyone had called you during sex before.
The sound of his long stride was barely audible as he stopped in front of one of the long couches pressed against the wall. Now that you weren't completely enveloped with him, you could just make out the faint lingering scent of a citrus cleaner and vanilla in the air.
Your eyes drank him in greedily, the way the light danced across his tattoos, the obvious strain of his broad chest within the confines of his shirt. The bulging muscles of his biceps flexed and rolled when he lifted his arms to cup your face. You swallowed hard when your eyes met the rich crimson of his and saw it had nearly been eclipsed by his blown pupils.
"You sure?"
The cautious sincerity of his voice sent a fresh tingle of hunger through you, the tone so at odds with the monster of a man he appeared to be.
You nodded, "Very sure."
His grin turned predatory.
"Do your worst, princess."
Oh. You did love a challenge.
His strong grip pulled your mouth back to his. You let him take the lead, let him feel like he was in control until you registered the taut muscle beneath your hands relaxing. Once you felt him settle into the lazy control he'd been wielding all night, you let your fingers skim across the strong expanse of his chest. There was no give to the strength beneath as your touch mapped every dip and curve the further down they trailed, until you hooked your fingers beneath the leather of his belt.
You smiled against his lips when you felt the breath catch. With one more soft press of your mouth to his, you pulled away.
There was an almost desperate gleam in his eyes, the fingers still holding your face twitched against your skin — as if resisting the urge to pull you back. Heat flared hot within you and pooled low in your belly thanks to the pure hunger in his gaze. The way he looked at you like he actually wanted you, and not just as some kind of curiosity to explore in the bedroom.
The soft click of his belt felt too loud in the otherwise quiet room, accompanied only by both of your ragged breaths and the distant pulse of the bass. Through each movement, you kept your eyes locked with his. The very idea that you seemed to be able to dismantle him so easily already, and you hadn't even done anything, made your mouth water.
With deft fingers his pants dropped far enough to reveal the throbbing length trapped beneath his boxer briefs. He groaned when you pressed your hand to his trapped cock, his lips parted ever so slightly as he stared you with ravenous eyes.
Finally, you hooked your fingers around the elastic and slowly pulled it down.
You'd love to say he 'sprang' free, but that wouldn't be the right description. No. His cock was heavy, thick enough that even hard, it was weighed down by its own mass. The tip was flushed a pretty shade of red and already leaking precum when your knees hit the carpet and his hands fell to the side.
You finally broke eye contact to appreciate the view in front of you, and your cunt throbbed with need. He sucked in a breath that pulled your attention away from his aching member and up to the expression of pure, unadulterated need that had overtaken his face.
Saliva gathered on your tongue when you wrapped your hand around the base, his shaft so thick your fingers didn't quite meet. To your surprise, you also felt what appeared to be the first bar of a ladder that ran up the length of him. Your eyes flicked up to see a smirk on his lips, which you returned with one of your own just before you dragged your tongue from base to tip along the underside of his cock.
The groan he let out sent another pulse of desire straight to your core.
One heavy hand found the back of your head. His fingers threaded through your hair, not to push or even guide — it was almost like he needed an anchor.
You allowed yourself a small, proud smile before you dragged your tongue up him once again, pausing to lightly tease each pierced bar as you went. This time you paid special attention to the piercing just below the sensitive head, flicking your tongue against the smooth metal before you wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked.
Another low moan rumbled through his chest as you swirled your tongue around the head, licking at the slit to taste the precum gathered there.
His grip on your hair tightened enough to force you to look up at him. The way the light hit his blown-out pupils made it seem like they were lit from within, desire burned so intense that you could feel your panties dampen with want.
You kept your gaze on him when you finally took him deeper. His eyes fluttered shut as his cock disappeared into your mouth, until eventually, his head fell back with a shattered moan. You sucked him in until you felt the tip hit the back of your throat. And when you pulled back, you took special care to run your tongue against every single bar that pierced him.
"Fuck. That's it."
That was all you needed to hear to make your own stubborn determination flare to life. You would take all of him by the end of this.
Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked, dropping your head back down his cock in a steady rhythm. What you couldn't yet fit, you worked with the hand still wrapped around his base, your other hand braced on the firm muscle of his thigh. Drool began to drip slowly from the corners of your mouth the longer this went on, though you couldn't find it in yourself to care.
Occasionally, the hand at the back of your head would twitch, like he was resisting the urge to direct your movements himself. Still, his grip never reached the point of pain, even with as lost as he was in the feel of your mouth.
Every soft moan spurred you on, each groan that rumbled through him told you exactly which spots to tease. Until finally, your nose met the carefully maintained bush at the base of his cock.
You swallowed around him, feeling the smooth balls at the ends of each piercing with the flat of your tongue. Surprise sent a shiver down your spine when he whimpered. This man, this enormous, terrifying man, whimpered as you worked his length.
"Sh-shit," his fingers tightened in your hair, not allowing you to pull back as he held you there for a moment longer. "Damn, princess."
You coughed briefly when he relaxed his grip enough for you to pull off, and ignored the way your eyes watered slightly from the way he stretched your throat. Without a second of hesitation, you took his heavy cock back into you waiting mouth, dropping all the way to the base again. Another groan rumbled through him; the sound drew a moan of your own.
The sensation forced an involuntary roll of his hips that forced him even deeper. You gagged a little when he did, tears sprang to your eyes, but you didn't stop. Instead, you renewed your pace, pushing yourself harder with every groan and roll of his hips.
"Gonna cum if you keep doin' that," his voice was wrecked when he spoke.
You hummed in response, taking him deep enough that the tip hit the back of your throat. This time you were ready, and kept yourself from gagging, even when his hips bucked again.
"Fuuuck."
Pride swelled alongside the burning desire in your chest. You might not be anyone's ideal type, but at least you knew how to ruin a man with just your mouth… and the fact that you were ruining this man? Well, you'd have to tell Esumi all about it later.
Every time you noticed him shift and thrust a little harder as he got closer to cumming, you'd slow — working his cock with the same confident sweeps of your tongue and teases to his sensitive tip and piercings. Once he'd calmed back down and the twitching of his cock lessened, you'd return to the pace you'd learned he liked best. Each time bringing him just a little closer to the edge before you’d back off.
The growl of frustration he let out every time you denied his released was thrilling, and you would have kept going had your jaw not begun to ache. Even with the carpet, your knees were sore from kneeling for so long — so, this time, when you felt his cock swell and twitch under your ministrations, you kept going.
His grip tightened again when he realized you weren't slowing down this time, "Gonna cum. Shit! Hah- just like that."
You let him pull you down the fat length of his cock, the tip colliding with the back of your throat as he let out a long, drawn-out groan.
His cock pulsed in your mouth; hot spurts of his release ran down your throat and into your mouth. Despite your best efforts, there was too much for you to keep up with and by the time his fingers finally loosened, a little dribble of cum had escaped your lips.
"Fucking hell…" He let out another low moan of overstimulation as you slowly pulled back — your tongue slid around the length of him until you finally pulled off with a soft pop.
Almost as if your mouth is what had kept him standing, the moment your lips left his spent member, he collapsed backward onto the couch behind him. The furniture creaked as his weight settled, his head fell back against the cushion as he tried to catch his breath, the broad expanse of his chest heaving with the effort.
Another bloom of pride warmed your chest as you stood, your legs a little shaky after kneeling for so long. Your panties were sticky with need, and you wanted nothing more than to let this man have his way with you. But, the little voice in your head that whispered all the hurtful things was loud.
So instead, you huffed a soft chuckle at the sight before you.
He looked utterly wrecked, like you'd pulled the soul from his body at the same time as his cum. A faint touch of pink still highlighted his cheeks as one crimson eye peeked open to look at you.
When he did, you intentionally dragged your thumb up your chin to catch the line of his release that had escaped your lips. He groaned again, as you licked the digit clean before doing the same to your lips. You bit back a laugh when his eyes fell closed with an exhausted moan.
“Tryin’ to kill me…”
As quietly as you could, you went about adjusting your clothes so they would lay right again. You used the camera on your phone to straighten the mess he'd made of your hair, and attempted to fix the makeup that had run and smeared down your cheeks… it was the best you could do, all things considered.
It wasn't until you'd taken a couple steps toward the door that he opened his eyes again, "Where're you goin'?"
His voice was rough, tired, and edged with something like surprise.
"It's late, I need to get home."
"Really? Gonna gimme the best head of my fuckin' life and then just bounce?"
For a moment you debated what to do next, but eventually decided fuck it. You were never going to see him again anyway. So, you walked back to where he was still sprawled against the couch, the mountain of his frame completely relaxed and beginning to melt into the leather.
You pressed one, lingering kiss to his lips.
Just as you began to step away, he caught your wrist, "C'mon princess. At least let me return the favor."
A touch of affection bloomed in your chest at the offer.
"Thanks for the rescue."
You smiled and carefully pulled your arm from his grip; he only hesitated for a heartbeat before letting go.
"And thanks for this. I had fun."
You didn't give him another chance to speak before you slipped out the door.
It wasn't until you got home that you realized, you hadn't even learned his name.
If you liked this and want to see some other ideas I have in mind for reader and Sukuna let me know!
**Please do not copy, modify, translate, steal, feed to AI, etc. Feel free to like, comment, and reblog!
Wow! I did not expect people to enjoy this as much as they have! Between the responses I've gotten here, and over on AO3, I think it's safe to say that more parts will be added lol! ❤️❤️
I have actually already started working on a second part for this, but it's going to take a little time before it's ready. I'm not going to make any promises on a release date specifically, but based on the pace I've been going I should have it out by next week at the latest!
That said, I have a ton of ideas for this AU that I will be working on when I have the time and mental space!
Anyway, thank you so much for reading and I can't wait to show you what I have in store! ❤️❤️❤️
Synopsis: Clubs had never been your scene. Always too loud, everything was sticky, the drinks were never anything spectacular; just not how you would choose to spend your Friday night. But, you'd only been in the city for barely under six months now, and Esumi had insisted you join the group tonight. Everything had been going well, until the one person from the office you'd been trying to avoid decided he was tired of taking 'no' for an answer...
That was when the terrifying stranger you'd seen earlier in the night, came to your rescue.
Tags: Non-sorcerer AU, Sukuna x Plus-size F!Reader, alcohol consumption, body insecurity, body image issues, size difference, size kink, smut (oral, m recieving), edging, genital piercings, sexual harassment (not Kuna), mild hurt/comfort (kinda), mild angst, Sukuna's a dick but not to reader, kinda ooc Kuna, no use of y/n, if I missed any let me know
MDNI - 18+
W/C: 8,259
A/N: Hi! This is my first time writing for Sukuna but I had a ton of fun with it. Plus it feels good to FINALLY get something finished after months of writers block and mental health struggles. I'm thinking about turning this into a series of oneshots and I'd love to know if people are interested because I have lot of ideas and finally have the motivation to write again! Thanks for reading!
A/N 2: Also a HUGE shout-out and thank you to @sunwornink for both of your plus-size reader JJK series! You inspired me to write one of my own! ❤️❤️
Clubs had never been your scene. Always too loud, everything was sticky, the drinks were never anything spectacular; just not how you would choose to spend your Friday night. But you'd only been in the city for less than six months now, and Esumi had insisted you join the group tonight. Apparently, it was Akemi from accounting's birthday or something, and they had invited, what seemed like half the company, out to celebrate.
So instead of staying home, curled up on the couch with a glass of wine and a cat in your lap; you'd squeezed yourself into a pair of high-waisted dark jeans you hadn't worn in a while, and a cute loose graphic crop top that perfectly hid the things you wanted it to. Your favorite faux leather jacket was tucked into the booth with a couple of other coworkers while you went to get drinks for yourself and Esumi.
The pulse of the bass throbbed loud enough to feel like it rattled your bones. Maybe if it hadn't felt like you'd been forced to come, it would have been more bearable. But for the most part, you avoided places like this. Crowds made you uncomfortable and all too conscious of how much space you took up. You'd always been a bigger girl, hyperaware of the fact that you'd never look like the people you saw on billboards and tv. But that was something you'd come to accept a long time ago (or tried too anyway).
You weren't anyone's ideal 'type,' at least not physically. However, that just gave you more space to work on the parts of yourself you did like. You knew you were smart, you'd always loved learning, and you had a mind for strategy. So, when you went to university, you devoted yourself to your studies, graduated with honors, and had multiple job offers waiting. That was a few years ago, and your sharp that mind was one of the biggest reasons you'd managed to land your current position. 'Assistant' didn't sound particularly elegant or exciting on its own, but when you pair it with the fact that you were the executive assistant to the President/CEO of Kamo Industries, suddenly everyone looked at you differently.
Ice clinked against the glass when the bartender set your drinks down. You passed over a handful of bills, and scooped up the overpriced liquor to make your way back to the safety of your booth. Roughly halfway there, a prickling sensation on the back of your neck flared to life again. You'd felt it when you first walked in too, the unmistakable feeling of being watched.
Taking a half-step to the side, you pressed your back against a nearby pillar to avoid a possible collision as other bodies surged back and forth between the bar and dance floor.
Whiskey burned as it raced down your throat, warming you from the inside, and easing some of the anxiety that coiled tight in your belly. You scanned the room as you took another sip, and ignored the way goosebumps made the hair on your arms stand on end.
You'd almost finished your sweep of the area, almost convinced yourself you'd imagined it, when you saw him.
In a dark corner of the VIP section, he was sprawled on a couch like a king on his throne. His black dress shirt had been unbuttoned just far enough to hint at the powerful build hidden beneath. The taut muscle of his forearms flexed visibly thanks to the sleeves rolled to just below his elbows; heavy inked bands wrapped around his wrists like shackles, and gleamed faintly when the pulsing light kissed his skin. Sharp tattoos accentuated the dangerous line of his jaw, and only made the predatory look on his face that much more devastating.
You could have ignored him, could have reminded yourself that men like that don't notice girls like you; had you not caught the way his eyes tracked the movement of your glass when you brought it back to your lips.
The overwhelming noise of the club fell away, as butterflies erupted in your stomach under the weight of his attention. Your heart felt like it was trying to leap from your chest and run the other way, when his gaze lifted to lock with yours.
Heat bloomed low in your belly with the intensity in his eyes. Light flashed over him again, catching on the soft salmon of his hair — a color that shouldn't work so well on someone as obviously dangerous as him.
You probably would have stood there all night, frozen under the sheer magnitude of his attention, had Esumi not appeared out of nowhere. Her arm looped through yours, pulling you back toward your booth and a few other people you recognized.
"Oh my god! What took so long?! Did you get lost or something?" She leaned in close to speak against your ear, the warmth of her laughter helped to slow your racing heart. But even as she dragged you away, it was a monumental effort not to turn back to see if he was still watching.
With a huffed chuckle, you extended the entirely too sweet cocktail you'd bought for her, "You could say that."
You sounded breathless, even to your own ears. Thankfully, short of giving you a curious look she didn't push further. Already you could feel the start of a headache coming on.
"Oooo, thank you!"
Her slim fingers wrapped around the fizzy pink drink. In a matter of seconds, you were back at the table. As you sat down, a couple of people gave you polite smiles before returning to their previous conversations. Their attention felt frigid after the heat of the stranger’s stare — a cold splash of reality to remind you not to let your imagination get the best of you.
There was a faint, barely perceptible tremble in the tips of your fingers from the emotional whiplash of the last few minutes; between the strangers heated gaze, Esumi's bubbling enthusiasm, and the cold indifference of your other coworkers, your brain was working on overdrive trying to process it all. Another sip of the amber liquid had a flush rise to your cheeks from the alcohol, and left a pleasant faint vanilla after-taste.
The combination of the overcrowded heat in the club and the warmth of the liquor, made you thankful you'd worn a comfortable loose top. Even with it, you felt like you were on the verge of overheating… or maybe it was your own anxieties getting the better of you.
The booth creaked and dipped as someone sat down beside you.
"Hey! I didn't think I'd see you here tonight!"
Dread filled your stomach immediately, and you tried to subtly put a bit more space between the two of you. Of course, the one person you'd hoped to avoid managed to find you.
"Hey, Kishimoto," despite your best effort, a hint of irritation bled through in your tone. Fortunately, he didn't seem to notice, or maybe he didn't care.
"Aww, none of that! I told you to call me Akihiro," he paused, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips before he spoke again. "You could even call me Aki, if you wanted to."
This had been happening almost since the day you started. Kishimoto was one of the senior management members for Kamo Industries. Although young in comparison to many of the other senior managers, he'd already proven himself when he snagged a client out from under the Gojo Corporation — a slight that had not been forgotten based on the emails and phone calls you'd been fielding ever since.
It wasn't even that he was unattractive either — his dark hair was always nicely styled, warm brown eyes shone beneath heavy brows. He took care of himself, that much was apparent. The problem was that he was that very stereotypical 'nice guy', who thought that just because he treated you like a human, he deserved an award.
"And I told you, Kishimoto works just fine for me."
Movement from the corner of your eye drew your attention to where Esumi and your other friend, Tatsuki, were dancing. Bright smiles lit their faces as they moved to the beat, Esumi’s neon pink cocktail glowed under the clubs shifting lights. Tatsuki grabbed her free hand and twirled her, the move drawing a laugh out of both of them as they continued to dance and weave through the crowd, until they disappeared from your sight.
A little twist of envy curled in your chest with how carefree they seemed to be. Meanwhile, you could never seem to get out of your own head long enough to fully live in the moment.
Almost unconsciously, your gaze slid back to the dangerous figure from before. He was still there, still gazed out at the crowd with a unique mix of boredom and predatory awareness that missed nothing. His attention moved slowly over the mass of people writhing to the music, like he was surveying his territory...
Or hunting.
The thought sent a shiver down your spine. Beside you, Kishimoto continued to drone on, every so often you'd hum or nod so that he felt like you were listening, even when you weren't. You let his voice fade to the background as you took another sip and watched the crowd shift and move like a wave. Men, women, and everyone in between swarmed the dance floor, the lights shifted from blue, to pink, to purple, and back again. Occasionally the DJ's voice would interrupt to catch the crowd’s attention and spark new life in the people who'd left the chaos to find drinks and air.
It was almost meditative, the pulse of the bass like a stuttered heartbeat that directed each movement. The faint tingle of alcohol in the back of your mind made it easier to tolerate, and even enjoy the chaos, at least from afar. Sometimes you'd catch Esumi's excited grin and return it with a small one of your own. The handsome stranger hadn't looked in your direction again, not that you'd admit you'd been sneaking looks of your own — you tried to push aside the way your chest felt a little too tight when you acknowledged that he'd captured your attention far more than you had his.
Eventually, your glass was empty, and the man beside you was still talking when you stood.
"I'm gonna go get a refill."
"Oh! I'll come with you! Let me buy your next round!"
The air felt heavy as you took a deep breath in an attempt to smother your irritation. Your mother would tell you to be grateful for a man's attention, your father would tell you to be thankful he's willing to put up with your attitude. But there's a difference between respectful attention and greedy entitlement.
Halfway to the bar, you cast a furtive look in the direction of the pink-haired stranger. Except this time when the lights pulsed bright, your vision found an empty couch.
Kishimoto's hand rested at the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd in front of the bar. Your jaw ached with how hard you had to bite back your scathing annoyance. With every step you could feel the way his touch shifted until his fingers no longer rested respectfully against the fabric of your shirt; instead, they'd found their way beneath its hem to ghost his fingertips over the skin of your back.
Revulsion coursed through you as you stepped away, bumping a couple of people in your effort to put some space between you.
"Don't do that."
Your voice was flat, devoid of the barely-there courtesy you'd maintained for the last 20 minutes while he talked at you.
His head tipped to one side, almost like a confused puppy when he asked, "Do what?"
Anger flared in your chest at his blatant attempt to act oblivious.
"Keep your hands to yourself, Kishimoto."
His eyes widened, "I'm so sorry! I just didn't want you to get lost in the crowd."
False innocence coated every word as he smirked.
A biting retort danced on the tip of your tongue, but before you could unleash it, the bartender appeared in front of you.
"What can I getcha?" Dark hair that had once been carefully styled, now hung in casual disarray thanks to the madness of the evening. Bright blue eyes almost glowed thanks to the backlit bar behind him. He was cute in a way that made you feel like he might actually be someone you'd approach outside of a place like this.
You opened your mouth to order, only for Kishimoto to speak first.
"Pomegranate chu-hai, for the lady," he grinned at you. "And a gin and tonic for myself."
A slight frown pulled the corner of your mouth. It wasn't that you wouldn't drink it, a free drink is a free drink. But that cocktail was far sweeter than your usual whiskey on the rocks; plus, there was so little alcohol in it that you'd have to drink several to even feel a buzz. Already your annoyance with the man had started to ruin the light tingle your first drink left behind.
The crowd shifted and forced someone to take a step back. You stumbled slightly as they knocked into you, and forced you against Kishimoto, whose eyes lit up the moment you stepped into his space. His hand immediately settled on your lower back again, and thanks to the mass of bodies, you no longer had room to get away from him.
"Kishimoto," he looked down at you with wide, innocent eyes. "Move your hand."
He grinned, the usual playfulness dropped just enough to show something else that made your stomach turn.
"Sure thing, babe."
Distantly, you were aware of another shift in the throng that surrounded the bar. The air suddenly felt thick almost like the club itself held its breath to see what would happen next. His hand drifted below the hem of your shirt again; two fingers hooked through a belt loop on your jeans and tugged you closer.
From your peripherals, the bartender looked up from where he'd been pouring something into a shaker. A low voice spoke; his words lost to the throbbing music and pounding of your heart.
"Kishimoto," you tried again. "Hands off."
There was only so much you could do in a crowded club. Plus, you didn't want to risk causing a scene and get reported to your boss. You'd moved across the country for this job; you couldn't afford to lose it. Kishimoto slid a few bills onto the counter when the bartender dropped off your drinks, his eyes never leaving you.
His grip on your belt loop loosened, and you almost let out a sigh of relief, until you felt his pinky replace the other two as the rest of his hand rested against the bare skin of your back. His touch felt like needles on your sensitive skin, and made your stomach turn violently.
"C'mon, you've been flirting with me since the day you started. I've seen the way you look at me. Don't play hard to get now."
Your head ached from months of holding your tongue. Fuck the job, you didn't need it badly enough to deal with this kind of entitlement.
Before you could move, before you even had a chance to get past that thought, heat seeped through the fabric of your shirt as a truly massive presence appeared behind you. A heavy arm wrapped around your middle and pulled you free from your coworker’s grip. Your back hit what felt like a solid wall of muscle — for the first time in what seemed like hours, you took a full, ragged breath.
From over your shoulder, another hand reached forward to grasp the fizzy pomegranate drink that still sat where the bartender left it.
"I believe she said 'hands off.'"
The voice was so deep it vibrated through his chest, and into your own as it rumbled above your head. The brunette never got the chance to respond.
A massive hand held your drink above Kishimoto's head… and tipped.
Pink shifted to blue into purple and back again. The energy of the club continued to thrum in the background, people laughed and drank and danced. Yet, here, in this frozen heartbeat, time stopped. Liquor turned neon under the light as ice bounced against dark hair and scattered across the floor.
"What the fuck?!"
You watched in stunned silence as the sticky pink cocktail soaked through his shirt and dripped from his hair. The arm around your middle pulled you another half-step back as the alcohol spread across the floor and threatened to touch your boots. Unlike Kishimoto's touch, your savior kept his grip respectful, if not a little possessive.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Kishimoto reached for a handful of napkins to wipe away the alcohol that stung his eyes. "The fuck gives you the right to get involved in other people's business, huh?!"
Your savior lifted you off the ground like you weighed nothing and carefully set you down beside him.
When he released his grip, a barely-there shiver rushed through you at the sudden loss of contact.
Immediately, you looked up to see who'd saved you, and were hit with a fresh wave of astonishment. Distinctive dark bands of ink wrapped around his wrists and forearm, the color stark against the warm golden tan of his skin. A traitorous flip of your stomach betrayed the thrill that raced down your spine.
Up close, he was devastatingly attractive. It was as if the mass of him never stopped as your eyes followed the lines of tattoos and scars that littered what skin you could see. He had to be at least 6'5", if not taller. Every ounce of his being screamed 'predator,' and you were stuck somewhere between wanting to run and wishing he'd hold you again.
It was only once the heat of him fully dissipated that you felt a familiar jolt of delayed self-conscious embarrassment. Normally, you avoided letting people touch your stomach as much as possible, it was one of the parts of yourself you'd always hated the most.
Rather than respond to the soaked Kishimoto, the stranger directed his attention to you. Deep crimson eyes burned with an intensity that made your knees weak and sent heat straight to your core.
"You good?" A muscle ticked in his jaw when he spoke.
You tried to swallow, your mouth suddenly dry under the full force of his attention. His eyes dropped to track the movement before they lifted to meet yours again.
"Yeah, I'm f-"
"Of fucking course she's fine!" Kishimoto interrupted, puffing his chest out as he looked up at the man who stood a full head or more above than him. "You can't just go around interrupting people's conversations. This is none of your business!"
He reached for you again. His refusal to accept your continued rejections was enough to shake you from your shocked stupor. You let the full depth of your frustration show in the seething glare you shot him and sidestepped his grasp.
Your savior chuckled darkly, the sound closer to a growl than actual amusement. He straightened to his full height and faced the brunette in front of him. Broad shoulders rolled beneath his dark shirt as he nodded to the bartender, who you now saw had kept an eye on the altercation.
"You made it my business when you decided to pull that shit in my club."
His club?! Fuck.
"Now," the rough timbre of his voice cut through the din as if even the bass bowed to his presence. "You have two options, and I certainly hope you pick the right one."
Kishimoto's gaze dropped to where you stood next the enormous stranger. He frowned, something like hurt in his eyes.
"Leave now, or…" The crimson eyed man broke into a wicked grin, light caught on the faint points of his canines, making him look even more like a predator. "I'll escort you out myself."
The way the muscles in his forearms flexed and shifted as he clenched his fists told you which option he hoped Kishimoto would pick.
Your coworker shot you one more furtive look before he turned on his heel and pushed his way through the crowd to the exit. You were still watching where he'd disappeared when another rough chuckle broke through the whirlwind of your thoughts.
One arm was braced against the bar as he leaned against it, a somewhat sadistic smirk on his lips as he cast a slow appraising look over your figure. A cross between fear and desire fanned the simmering heat in your core. When he met your eyes again, they burned with something you couldn't place, but it sent a shiver down your spine (that you would forever insist was thanks to the adrenaline coursing through your system).
Just as you opened your mouth to thank him, the bartender returned with two glasses he set in front of the pink-haired man.
They were identical, save for one of the short glasses of amber liquid also housed a singular large ice cube. The sight reminded you that you had far too little alcohol in your system to deal with all the shit Kishimoto had sparked, even if he wasn't around to keep harassing you.
Your approach to the bar was interrupted when the stranger lifted the glass with ice in your direction. Once again you found yourself short-circuiting thanks to another unexpectedly kind gesture from someone you'd never met before.
How did he know your order?
It wasn't until he raised a brow, a barely-there smirk on his lips, and the glass still extended, that you realized you'd frozen. Embarrassment flared hot up the back of your neck and into your cheeks when you cleared your throat and reached for the drink.
The glass was cold as you took it, a stark contrast to the heat of his touch when your fingers brushed his.
"Thanks."
He nodded, his eyes never leaving your face.
"And," you swallowed hard. "Thank you for... that."
You waved your hand dismissively in the direction Kishimoto disappeared. A muscle in his jaw ticked as the smirk fell away.
"You know 'im?"
For the first time that night, you let every bit of your anger show.
"Unfortunately."
You took a sip, expecting the usual burn from your go-to, relatively cheap, whiskey. Instead, your tongue was met with the smooth, smoky flavor of something far too expensive for your budget.
"He's a… coworker. Technically," you mumble the last word with distaste.
He huffed, the sound forcing you to meet his eyes. They're still intense, but there's something dangerous, and considering there too. It's enough to raise fresh goosebumps across your skin the longer you looked.
He'd felt it the moment you'd stepped into the club, it was like something in the atmosphere changed. Fridays were one of the few nights Sukuna allowed himself the time to one of the many clubs under his purview — purely for himself, rather than work. Usually, he'd have a couple drinks, scope out the crowd, and let the few people brave or stupid enough to approach, try. Sometimes they succeeded, most of the time they failed.
It was easy, surface level, no commitment, the kind of night he could ‘work out’ the frustrations of the week from his system and start fresh. Women saw a 'pretty face,' felt the danger of his presence, and thought they could handle it. They wanted the thrill, and he was all too willing to provide.
Then you'd walked in looking like you'd rather be anywhere else.
And once he'd noticed you, it was like his eyes were drawn to you with a magnet. He'd catch himself staring, pull his gaze away, only to find it had drifted back moments later. You were beautiful. The jeans you wore hugged your curves just right, that cropped t-shirt would occasionally shift just enough to expose a little peak of skin that had him craving more. Plus, your clear disdain for crowds and the pounding music only added to the allure. He found himself wondering why you'd come — the question bounced around in his head for far longer than he'd ever admit.
Idle curiosity warped to sharp focus when you froze part way back to the table where you'd left your jacket earlier. He tracked the way your eyes moved carefully through the room, watched appreciatively as you took a sip and didn't flinch at the bite of whiskey when it touched your tongue.
A smug smirk threatened to break his casual façade when you finally caught sight of him. He watched your eyes widened in surprise, and he couldn't help but wonder what was going through your head when your gaze locked with his.
Emotion flashed across your face so fast it was impossible for him to read it all. But when it finally settled, he saw hesitation at war with the hunger in your eyes. He debated going to you then, considered dragging you back to the privacy of his section just to be able to enjoy the shocked look on your face again.
But then your friend appeared and pulled you away.
He continued to watch you, subtly; especially when he clocked the way you moved away from the guy who sat down beside you. Even from this distance he could see the annoyance on your face, and he wondered how the other people around you didn't pick up on it. Sukuna wasn't a good man, he'd never claimed to be. But even he had lines he wouldn't cross.
At some point, one of the many people who worked for him appeared to ask a quiet question. His attention strayed for only a moment, but when he returned his focus to where you'd been, you weren't there. Neither was the man who'd been looking at you with far too much entitlement in his eyes.
Anger sparked in his chest, and the feeling made him stop. He didn't know you, had never even seen you before. He had no real reason to interfere or to justify this strange, almost territorial pull. Still, he didn't question himself further as he rose and pushed his way through the throng.
For most of his life, his considerable height had been a distinct advantage in any endeavor he pursued — this was no different. Sukuna towered over most of the other patrons; his sharp gaze quickly scanned the undulating wave of patrons as he searched. Until, finally, a flash of light hit your shirt and made the fabric glow.
It wasn't often that he got to play hero, but the look of relief and gratitude on your face when that prick finally left was enough to make his chest warm in a way that was almost unpleasant. Though the satisfaction every time he thought back to the way that fizzy pink cocktail dripped down the bastard's face was enough to overpower it.
He'd brought you back to his private booth, one long arm stretched over the back of the couch behind you, his own half-empty glass dangled loosely from his fingertips. You sat beside him, back rigid with a few inches of respectful distance between them. He hated it, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you firmly against his side — to feel the soft give of your flesh beneath his fingers again. But he wouldn't risk scaring you off just yet.
You leaned forward to set your now empty glass on the table. His eyes immediately dropped to where the hem of your top slid up your back just enough to reveal a tantalizing little strip of skin. He swallowed past the desire that made him wonder what you'd taste like, when you leaned back. You still hadn’t relaxed, nervously fidgeting with the fabric of your top like you regretted wearing it.
"This is your club, then?"
He pulled his eyes away from where they'd been watching the deft movements of your fingers to find your attention directed at him now.
"Technically, no." He smirked with a dry chuckle, "Might as well be though."
A frown formed a crease between your brows as you looked at him — really looked. His expression dropped to something closer to wicked satisfaction, because it was true. Technically, he didn't own the club, but the owners did owe its success to he and his family.
"What does that even mean?"
Your flippant tone pulled a low chuckle out of him.
"Means they owe this," he gestured vaguely through the air. "To the people who make sure their doors stay open."
A little hum of acknowledgement settled in your chest and he let his gaze wander over your figure again — the way those jeans clung to your thick thighs made his mouth water.
Cloying sweetness bloomed around them. Sukuna let out a long, drawn-out breath as irritation clawed at the back of his throat. The server — fuck, what was her name? Miki? Sachi? Runa? — shot him a sultry smile as she bent over to deposit fresh refills on the low table in front of them. He choked back a scoff when she somehow managed to squish her tits together in yet another attempt to get him back in her bed.
"Can I get you anything else?" Kaho? Tama? Chiyu? Whatever her name was, batted over-long lashes as she asked.
From his periphery he noticed your, not-so-subtle eye roll, and he couldn't help the huff of amusement that escaped him. Your eyes widened when they darted up to meet his, a faint smile curled at the corners of your mouth, and fuck if he wasn't curious if your lips were as soft as they looked.
"No, thank you," your attention never left him as you answered the server’s question.
A smirk touched his lips when you finally let the tension bleed from your shoulders and leaned back into the couch. His hand moved just enough to let his thumb rest on your shoulder the second you were close enough.
The server cleared her throat in another attempt to get his attention. But his focus remained solely on you. The way the pulsing lights danced in your eyes, the soft spread of your legs when, at last, you decided to trust him — at least a little. He moved as if on autopilot, the heavy muscle of his leg spread to press against your own.
You tensed as soon as his thigh touched yours.
"Don't worry, princess. I don't bite… unless you ask."
A full smug grin broke across his face when you nearly choked, and he caught a jealous huff from the server as she walked away. For the first time that night, your mouth spread in a small, genuine smile as you laughed softly.
"You're bold," your voice was smooth as you called him out.
The slow path of your eyes trailed across his chest with an open appreciation that made his stomach flutter in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. Ice clinked softly within your fresh drink as you took a sip, your eyes locked with his as you did. He tracked the movement of your throat when you swallowed, desire bloomed low in his belly as he imagined how pretty you'd look wrapped around his cock.
"Only when I see somethin' I want."
He watched with delight as your cheeks darkened. But rather than getting shy like he expected, you shifted closer, fanning the fire that burned in his core.
"Oh?"
A flicker of something flashed through your eyes before they settled on the same hunger he was sure was reflected in his. For a moment, he thought you were about to walk away. Instead, you adjusted enough to tuck one leg underneath you and fully face him. You rested your hand on his leg, the tips of your fingers on the inside of his thigh made it clear the placement wasn't an accident.
"Careful, princess," he purred. "Don't start somethin' you can't finish."
The corners of your mouth twitched up with the hint of a smirk. Determination sharpened the already heady expression on your face when you gave his leg a soft squeeze. Sukuna swallowed down a groan, and he was the bold one?
The heavy weight of his hand landed at the nape of your neck, his thumb rubbed gentled against the soft skin beneath it. If you wanted to tease, then so could he. You shuddered under his touch and he had to consciously restrain himself from guiding your hand to where his cock throbbed painfully within the confines of his slacks.
Your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip.
"Who said I can't finish it?"
Sukuna all but growled when your mouth met his with a burning need. You tasted like whiskey and the remnants of whatever subtle gloss you'd applied earlier. A groan rumbled deep in his chest when you met him with the same fervor. The softness of your lips contrasted with the heat of your breath as you moaned softly. He bit your bottom lip, and took the opportunity to sweep his tongue into your mouth when you gasped in surprise.
You slid your hand further up his thigh, tightening your fingers the higher you went. His cock pulsed with need, even as he savored the taste of you on his tongue. Every soft sound that escaped, he eagerly swallowed down, until eventually you were forced to break away just to catch your breath.
That didn't deter him though, his mouth dropped to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your jaw and down your throat. Your skin tasted faintly of something sweet and clean when he dragged his tongue across the open expanse of your neck. A soft whimper slipped passed your lips and made him grin.
He would have continued to devour you, had you not, at last, reached his aching member. Sukuna tucked his face into your neck as he let out a sharp hiss of pleasure from the pressure of your palm, it made his trapped length throb hard enough to feel through the fabric.
Sukuna couldn't stand it anymore, his control snapped as he pulled away and stood. That same flicker he couldn't identify earlier flared to life in your eyes before he extended his hand.
"C'mon, princess. Not doin’ this with an audience."
You could barely hear the music over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. His hand completely engulfed yours as he dragged you through the crowded mass of the club. Want burned low in your belly when the dark hall to a few private rooms came into view. Logically, you knew you should be afraid, or even worried. But the only feeling that rolled through you was an overwhelming desire, mixed with a little undercurrent of anxiety. Not because you thought he'd hurt you, but because of your own insecurities.
The heavy metal door swung open on near silent hinges as he pulled you in behind him. In the same heartbeat that the door clicked shut, he had you pinned against it, both meaty hands on either side of your head. The crimson of his eyes glowed in the low light of the room from where he looked down on you, a stark reminder of the true mass of him.
When his lips claimed yours this time there was no hesitation. He kissed you like a man starved, your mouths locked in a tangle of teeth and tongues and gasped breaths. One of his big hands fell to grasp your waist, his grip tight enough to bruise, but not quite hurt. He growled, actually growled when you bit his lower lip, the soft flesh a delightful contrast to the firm strength of the rest of him.
The fabric of his shirt slid smoothly beneath your hands when you clutched it to pull him closer. Almost unconsciously, he rolled his hips to grind into you, the feel of his hard member drew a soft moan out of you that he eagerly swallowed.
He broke the kiss to press his forehead to yours, a dangerous hunger flickered in his eyes, "Fuck. You're killin' me, princess."
Confidence flared in your chest just long enough for you to loosen your grip and push him back. His eyes widened in surprise while you took in the faint flush on his cheeks and kiss swollen lips.
"Wanna taste you."
The surprise on his face melted into a Cheshire grin, the soft light of the room caught just faintly on the points of his canines.
He chuckled, "Whatever you want, princess."
You weren't sure where 'princess' had come from, but you weren't going to argue. It might be the nicest thing anyone had called you during sex before.
The sound of his long stride was barely audible as he stopped in front of one of the long couches pressed against the wall. Now that you weren't completely enveloped with him, you could just make out the faint lingering scent of a citrus cleaner and vanilla in the air.
Your eyes drank him in greedily, the way the light danced across his tattoos, the obvious strain of his broad chest within the confines of his shirt. The bulging muscles of his biceps flexed and rolled when he lifted his arms to cup your face. You swallowed hard when your eyes met the rich crimson of his and saw it had nearly been eclipsed by his blown pupils.
"You sure?"
The cautious sincerity of his voice sent a fresh tingle of hunger through you, the tone so at odds with the monster of a man he appeared to be.
You nodded, "Very sure."
His grin turned predatory.
"Do your worst, princess."
Oh. You did love a challenge.
His strong grip pulled your mouth back to his. You let him take the lead, let him feel like he was in control until you registered the taut muscle beneath your hands relaxing. Once you felt him settle into the lazy control he'd been wielding all night, you let your fingers skim across the strong expanse of his chest. There was no give to the strength beneath as your touch mapped every dip and curve the further down they trailed, until you hooked your fingers beneath the leather of his belt.
You smiled against his lips when you felt the breath catch. With one more soft press of your mouth to his, you pulled away.
There was an almost desperate gleam in his eyes, the fingers still holding your face twitched against your skin — as if resisting the urge to pull you back. Heat flared hot within you and pooled low in your belly thanks to the pure hunger in his gaze. The way he looked at you like he actually wanted you, and not just as some kind of curiosity to explore in the bedroom.
The soft click of his belt felt too loud in the otherwise quiet room, accompanied only by both of your ragged breaths and the distant pulse of the bass. Through each movement, you kept your eyes locked with his. The very idea that you seemed to be able to dismantle him so easily already, and you hadn't even done anything, made your mouth water.
With deft fingers his pants dropped far enough to reveal the throbbing length trapped beneath his boxer briefs. He groaned when you pressed your hand to his trapped cock, his lips parted ever so slightly as he stared you with ravenous eyes.
Finally, you hooked your fingers around the elastic and slowly pulled it down.
You'd love to say he 'sprang' free, but that wouldn't be the right description. No. His cock was heavy, thick enough that even hard, it was weighed down by its own mass. The tip was flushed a pretty shade of red and already leaking precum when your knees hit the carpet and his hands fell to the side.
You finally broke eye contact to appreciate the view in front of you, and your cunt throbbed with need. He sucked in a breath that pulled your attention away from his aching member and up to the expression of pure, unadulterated need that had overtaken his face.
Saliva gathered on your tongue when you wrapped your hand around the base, his shaft so thick your fingers didn't quite meet. To your surprise, you also felt what appeared to be the first bar of a ladder that ran up the length of him. Your eyes flicked up to see a smirk on his lips, which you returned with one of your own just before you dragged your tongue from base to tip along the underside of his cock.
The groan he let out sent another pulse of desire straight to your core.
One heavy hand found the back of your head. His fingers threaded through your hair, not to push or even guide — it was almost like he needed an anchor.
You allowed yourself a small, proud smile before you dragged your tongue up him once again, pausing to lightly tease each pierced bar as you went. This time you paid special attention to the piercing just below the sensitive head, flicking your tongue against the smooth metal before you wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked.
Another low moan rumbled through his chest as you swirled your tongue around the head, licking at the slit to taste the precum gathered there.
His grip on your hair tightened enough to force you to look up at him. The way the light hit his blown-out pupils made it seem like they were lit from within, desire burned so intense that you could feel your panties dampen with want.
You kept your gaze on him when you finally took him deeper. His eyes fluttered shut as his cock disappeared into your mouth, until eventually, his head fell back with a shattered moan. You sucked him in until you felt the tip hit the back of your throat. And when you pulled back, you took special care to run your tongue against every single bar that pierced him.
"Fuck. That's it."
That was all you needed to hear to make your own stubborn determination flare to life. You would take all of him by the end of this.
Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked, dropping your head back down his cock in a steady rhythm. What you couldn't yet fit, you worked with the hand still wrapped around his base, your other hand braced on the firm muscle of his thigh. Drool began to drip slowly from the corners of your mouth the longer this went on, though you couldn't find it in yourself to care.
Occasionally, the hand at the back of your head would twitch, like he was resisting the urge to direct your movements himself. Still, his grip never reached the point of pain, even with as lost as he was in the feel of your mouth.
Every soft moan spurred you on, each groan that rumbled through him told you exactly which spots to tease. Until finally, your nose met the carefully maintained bush at the base of his cock.
You swallowed around him, feeling the smooth balls at the ends of each piercing with the flat of your tongue. Surprise sent a shiver down your spine when he whimpered. This man, this enormous, terrifying man, whimpered as you worked his length.
"Sh-shit," his fingers tightened in your hair, not allowing you to pull back as he held you there for a moment longer. "Damn, princess."
You coughed briefly when he relaxed his grip enough for you to pull off, and ignored the way your eyes watered slightly from the way he stretched your throat. Without a second of hesitation, you took his heavy cock back into you waiting mouth, dropping all the way to the base again. Another groan rumbled through him; the sound drew a moan of your own.
The sensation forced an involuntary roll of his hips that forced him even deeper. You gagged a little when he did, tears sprang to your eyes, but you didn't stop. Instead, you renewed your pace, pushing yourself harder with every groan and roll of his hips.
"Gonna cum if you keep doin' that," his voice was wrecked when he spoke.
You hummed in response, taking him deep enough that the tip hit the back of your throat. This time you were ready, and kept yourself from gagging, even when his hips bucked again.
"Fuuuck."
Pride swelled alongside the burning desire in your chest. You might not be anyone's ideal type, but at least you knew how to ruin a man with just your mouth… and the fact that you were ruining this man? Well, you'd have to tell Esumi all about it later.
Every time you noticed him shift and thrust a little harder as he got closer to cumming, you'd slow — working his cock with the same confident sweeps of your tongue and teases to his sensitive tip and piercings. Once he'd calmed back down and the twitching of his cock lessened, you'd return to the pace you'd learned he liked best. Each time bringing him just a little closer to the edge before you’d back off.
The growl of frustration he let out every time you denied his released was thrilling, and you would have kept going had your jaw not begun to ache. Even with the carpet, your knees were sore from kneeling for so long — so, this time, when you felt his cock swell and twitch under your ministrations, you kept going.
His grip tightened again when he realized you weren't slowing down this time, "Gonna cum. Shit! Hah- just like that."
You let him pull you down the fat length of his cock, the tip colliding with the back of your throat as he let out a long, drawn-out groan.
His cock pulsed in your mouth; hot spurts of his release ran down your throat and into your mouth. Despite your best efforts, there was too much for you to keep up with and by the time his fingers finally loosened, a little dribble of cum had escaped your lips.
"Fucking hell…" He let out another low moan of overstimulation as you slowly pulled back — your tongue slid around the length of him until you finally pulled off with a soft pop.
Almost as if your mouth is what had kept him standing, the moment your lips left his spent member, he collapsed backward onto the couch behind him. The furniture creaked as his weight settled, his head fell back against the cushion as he tried to catch his breath, the broad expanse of his chest heaving with the effort.
Another bloom of pride warmed your chest as you stood, your legs a little shaky after kneeling for so long. Your panties were sticky with need, and you wanted nothing more than to let this man have his way with you. But, the little voice in your head that whispered all the hurtful things was loud.
So instead, you huffed a soft chuckle at the sight before you.
He looked utterly wrecked, like you'd pulled the soul from his body at the same time as his cum. A faint touch of pink still highlighted his cheeks as one crimson eye peeked open to look at you.
When he did, you intentionally dragged your thumb up your chin to catch the line of his release that had escaped your lips. He groaned again, as you licked the digit clean before doing the same to your lips. You bit back a laugh when his eyes fell closed with an exhausted moan.
“Tryin’ to kill me…”
As quietly as you could, you went about adjusting your clothes so they would lay right again. You used the camera on your phone to straighten the mess he'd made of your hair, and attempted to fix the makeup that had run and smeared down your cheeks… it was the best you could do, all things considered.
It wasn't until you'd taken a couple steps toward the door that he opened his eyes again, "Where're you goin'?"
His voice was rough, tired, and edged with something like surprise.
"It's late, I need to get home."
"Really? Gonna gimme the best head of my fuckin' life and then just bounce?"
For a moment you debated what to do next, but eventually decided fuck it. You were never going to see him again anyway. So, you walked back to where he was still sprawled against the couch, the mountain of his frame completely relaxed and beginning to melt into the leather.
You pressed one, lingering kiss to his lips.
Just as you began to step away, he caught your wrist, "C'mon princess. At least let me return the favor."
A touch of affection bloomed in your chest at the offer.
"Thanks for the rescue."
You smiled and carefully pulled your arm from his grip; he only hesitated for a heartbeat before letting go.
"And thanks for this. I had fun."
You didn't give him another chance to speak before you slipped out the door.
It wasn't until you got home that you realized, you hadn't even learned his name.
If you liked this and want to see some other ideas I have in mind for reader and Sukuna let me know!
**Please do not copy, modify, translate, steal, feed to AI, etc. Feel free to like, comment, and reblog!
The slow return begins... I'm so sorry I've been gone! 😭😭
Hi, so I know it's been a while since I've posted. I promise I'm still here and I'm so sorry for the silence. My mental health has been in shambles and for some reason my work has just... decided not to pay me! So I've been fighting with them about that SINCE APRIL!
All that to say, I'm still alive and I am still writing. In fact, I have several long form fics I've been working on as a sort of creative therapy to avoid fully crashing out lol.
The one I am the most excited for is a Sukuna x Plus-size Reader, modern au that I plan to do as a series of oneshots that show how their relationship progresses.
Another I have in the works is actually one of my first ever omegaverse fics that I've been writing as a gift for a friend. Unsurprising for any of you that have followed me for a while, what was supposed to be a oneshot has turned into a 4-part mini-series that I intend to post after I finish it and give it to my friend. This one is a Prime Alpha Toji x Prime Omega Reader fic with precious baby Megumi (he's like 4-5) and soft yet scary Sukuna who I have been told needs a fic of his own in this universe by my lovely beta reader lol.
Anyway, all that to say, I'm alive, I'm still writing, and I should be ready to start posting again soon! I love you all and I have missed you all so much! I promise I'll be back soon! 💙💙💙
Please REBLOG and COMMENT if you are a BNHA/MHA x Reader/OC writer!
I will be reaching out later on, but if you wish to be promoted or added to/removed from the 2026–2027 list, please let me know.
Please follow the directions above especially if you are a new writer for the fandom! (By “new,” I mean anyone who joined the fandom after Winter 2025 and wishes to be added to the list of writers.)
The last time I made a list was in 2025–2026, where it was split into two categories: SFW blogs and Mature blogs.
If you are a reader or a fan of a fanwriter you’d like to promote for me to contact, you can either send their information to my ask box or message me privately.
All I want to do is show support for fanwriters in the fandom who still create content for MHA/BNHA in 2026.
If anyone has questions, please feel free to send them to my ask box.
When you unexpectedly run into your ex during a night out with your friends, it just added to your already crappy day. Then his new fiance reminded you of their upcoming nuptials, questioning whether you'd be bringing a plus one... Fortunately your best friend was there to save you.
Or
You are forced to attend your ex's wedding to the woman he cheated on you with. Lucky for you, your best friend agrees to tag along for the week as your "fake" boyfriend.
A/N: I am so sorry this took so long! Life did its thing and I had absolutely no energy or motivation to write. BUT we are BACK BABY! I finished the last 8.5k words of this in less than 2 days! The will to write has returned and I could not be more excited!
Tags: ProHero!Shinso x F!Reader, AU, MDNI, NSFW, best friends to lovers, slow burn, fake dating, toxic ex, mentions of cheating, eventual smut, unprotected sex, light angst, hurt comfort, mutual pining, soft Shinso, use of pet names, no use of Y/N, Wingwoman Grandma!
W/C: 22.7k
Term of endearment:
Fudō - Steadfast or immovable, nickname given to reader by Shinso during their time at UA
If you don't want to read this in the oneshot format I have linked the fic on Ao3 where I have broken it into chapters.
Masterlist
It was supposed to be a fun night, a chance to let loose and relax after the hell that this week had been. Just a few friends gathering at the group's favorite bar to commiserate and drown their stress in booze and good company. The atmosphere was warm; the air hummed with pleasant conversation as a few stray words occasionally drifted to you before dissipating faster than you could truly comprehend them.
For the most part it was doing what you had hoped - distracting you from the stress of work and the awful conversation you'd had with your mother no less than an hour before meeting everyone here.
The day had been more stressful than you'd expected. Luminous Shroud, a Pro Hero who was slowly regaining his strength to return to the field after a particularly nasty battle with a villain, had hired you as a Quirk Conditioning Specialist at the advice of his doctors. Now that he had fully recovered from his physical injuries, it was time to start retraining and strengthening his Quirk. That was where you came in.
As a Quirk Conditioning Specialist, you function similarly to a sports therapist, only instead of focusing solely on the physical body, you primarily concentrate on an individual's Quirk and their control over it. It was a rewarding career that paid well and allowed you the opportunity to use your Quirk almost as much as a Pro without actually having to go through the same training and certification process.
Not that you couldn't have gone Pro with your Quirk... as your mother so loved to remind you.
Luminous Shroud's control was rapidly returning to what it had been before their injuries, and unfortunately for you, he got cocky. You'd been in the middle of a training exercise with them; the practice field was littered with quickly moving targets so as to help sharpen their aim and broaden their battlefield awareness.
As always, you were off to the side, well out of the way as you observed - taking note of his stance and the subtle tremble in the tips of his fingers as he held concentration over his Quirk. A frown pulled the corners of your mouth downward when you noticed him trying to pull more than two beams of energy from his Quirks origination point. You'd talked to him before beginning about only trying to utilize two since his control was still unstable beyond that.
"Luminous, only two, we talked about this." You tried to keep your voice steady and not let the irritation show, but it was a common problem with him and many other heroes. They always tried to push for more before their bodies were ready.
"It'll be fine!" An arrogant smirk danced across his lips as he ignored you, his attention focused on the targets in front of him.
Taking a step forward, you were intent on pointing out the extra strain he was putting on himself, when the illusory shadow of his Quirk rippled.
Three additional beams of energy rocketed outward in random directions, slicing through the air and cutting deep into the terrain below.
With little time to react, you did the only thing you could. Activating your Quirk, the beam directed at you slammed into your outstretched palm - the heat of it searing into your hand and forearm.
You lifted your other arm at the same time, aiming for one of the hills partway across the battlefield. The familiar tingle of your Quirk surged through you in the heartbeat between the hit and your subsequent redirect.
A burst of light shot forward out of your palm and slammed into the terrain, fracturing stone as smoke drifted upwards from the place of impact.
Less than two seconds had passed between his Quirks fluctuation and now. Yet in that time, he'd managed to cause significant damage to the training grounds structure and burn the hell out of your arm.
"Hey! You still with us?" Tokage Setsuna was gently shaking your shoulder, pulling you back to the present.
"Ah, yeah, sorry. Got distracted thinking about work," you gave her an apologetic smile as you realized most of the others at the table were watching you with a mix of worry and amusement.
Fortunately, the agency's medics had been able to heal most of the burns, but there were still a few that would take some time to fully heal, and may even scar. For his part, Luminous Shroud felt terrible, apologizing over and over for hurting you - but you weren't ready to forgive him yet. If he'd just listened instead of thinking he knew better it wouldn't have happened.
"I bet! He's seriously lucky you reacted so fast or it could have been so much worse!"
Kaminari was a more recent addition to the friend group, though his bubbly personality and genuine, kind heart fit right in - despite the rocky start when you had all been students.
A calloused hand reached over from your other side, lifting your bandaged arm with a look of deep concentration.
"Ya know, I could probably make you some kind of shield!" Hatsume's hair was still pulled back in her signature pink ponytail, though tonight she'd chosen to leave her goggles at the office... for once. "It wouldn't be that hard, actually! All I'd really need to do is inst-"
"That's alright, Mei!" You cut her off before she could get too carried away. "I'm usually fine, just this time caught me a bit off guard."
A scoff from the other side of the table drew your attention to the other blond, sitting beside Shinso.
Monoma had simultaneously changed so much and so little since school. He would always be the same over-confident brat he was back then but his edges had softened some. When he was out with friends like tonight, he was softer, still fiercely loyal to those he cared about but more willing to listen than he had been before the war.
"Still don't know why you waste your time on heroes that can't break the Top 100."
You laughed at the disdain in his voice, "Because it pays the bills, Neito. We can't all be big bad pros like you guys."
Beside you, Hatsume laughed loudly, falling against your shoulder as she did. A grin took over your expression as the rest of the table chuckled along. Yeah, this is exactly what you needed tonight.
Conversation continued to flow easily, bouncing from one topic to the next. Occasionally someone would head to the bar for another drink, leaving the table just a touch quieter than before.
You'd just finished chuckling at a story Monoma was telling about a case he and Shinso had worked on together, when you reached for your glass only to find it empty. There was a pleasant warmth in your chest from the alcohol - not enough to hinder your thoughts or judgement, just enough to help you relax.
After making your way to the bar, you were leaning against the counter sipping on a water while you waited for the bartender to finish your drink when a familiar voice cut through the din.
A grimace washed across your face before you schooled your expression back into calm indifference and turned around.
Standing proudly in the space behind you, was Fukuda Shinji, your ex-boyfriend.
He looked the same as the last time you'd seen him, only maybe a little more pleased with himself. His hair was styled into careful disarray, dark eyes looked out at the world with a cold calculation you'd once convinced yourself meant he cared enough to pay attention. Shinji had always been fairly lean and well-built, not the same as the Heroes you worked with every day, but still enough to tell he took care of himself.
One of those strong arms was draped around the shoulders of the woman beside him, Muto Fumiko.
Of course they had to be here tonight. Hearing about it from your mother clearly hadn't caused you enough grief to make the universe happy.
"Well, well, didn't expect to see you here," his voice was smooth, carrying just enough sharpness to let you know he was deeply delighted he would have the chance to make you uncomfortable.
"Fukuda," you looked at the woman beside him, clenching your jaw before addressing her. "Muto."
"What, that's all you've got to say? Surely you would have received the invitation by now?"
Gods above you wanted to punch him.
Just as you opened your mouth to respond, a deeper voice cut in, immediately settling some of the anxiety that had begun to flood your system.
"There a problem?"
Indigo hair fell nearly to his shoulders, the messy strands still managing to look attractive despite his clear disdain for keeping up appearances. A frown pulled at the corners of Shinso’s mouth as he came to stand beside you, violet eyes giving you an assessing once-over before he returned his gaze to your ex and his fiancé.
"Of course not! I'm just catching up with an old friend," Fukuda narrowed his eyes slightly at the new arrival. You could already see his mind working to figure out who this was.
Before the tension could get worse, you spoke up.
"Yes, Fukuda. I spoke with my mother today. Rather last minute don't you think?" Letting the ice you could feel in your bones color your tone, you felt Shinso look at you - though you didn't dare take your eyes off the pair in front of you.
It was Muto who inserted herself this time, a saccharine smile twisting her lips, "Oh I don't think so. A month should be plenty of time... I'm sure you and your partner will have no problem getting the time off work."
Nausea threatened to overwhelm you as her eyes seemed to pierce straight through you.
"Unless of course, you don't have anyone to bring." Her smile turned taunting, the sickly-sweet tone of her voice morphing into something arrogant and mocking.
You never had a chance to answer.
Suddenly there was a heavy weight along your shoulders as an arm wrapped around you, tugging you into the firm side of the purple-haired man beside you.
"'Course she's got someone to bring."
You'd caught his eye the first day of class - smart, quick-witted, and unafraid. He found you utterly fascinating and that hadn't changed in all the years since. Even when the nature of his Quirk was eventually revealed you didn't bat an eye, grinning with unashamed pride when he proclaimed he would become a hero.
It didn't take long after that to become fast friends - he admired your drive and the way you always dove head first into your studies, marveled at your cool confidence anytime you stepped in to defend him against those who refused to understand his Quirk. By the time the Sports Festival rolled around he found himself constantly by your side.
In fact, it was you who helped him figure out the best plan of action with such physical challenges involved. Your analytical mind assessed each person and their strengths, pointing out who he should target to remain in the running without giving away too much.
You were always on top of everything - had a back-up plan for any scenario.
So, when he saw you freeze at the bar, he knew something was wrong.
As he got closer the tension was palpable, whatever history you had with this guy clearly wasn't pleasant. He wasn't sure what was said before he got there, only catching the last few words that seemed to strike you like a blow.
That was why he stepped in, at least that's what he told himself.
He was almost to you when you spoke again, your voice sharp and tinged with resentment. Fukuda. Your ex. Shinso felt his own anger flare with recognition.
In all the time you'd dated the man, you never once introduced him to the group. Not that you hadn't tried. Anytime you'd made plans with everyone, intending to bring him along, Shinso would suddenly get a message saying that your boyfriend was sick, or something came up and you wouldn't be able to make it.
They all hated Fukuda – though, the only person who'd met him was Tokage, and she'd come back from that introduction fuming. It had taken Shinso and Hatsume almost an hour just to talk her out of going after him.
He caught the way the corner of your mouth turned downward - a sign he recognized well. It was something that only happened when you were fighting to control yourself.
Stepping forward, he pulled the pair's attention off of you for a moment - hopefully long enough for you to regain your composure.
"There a problem?"
Hitoshi barely listened to the man's smug response; his attention already split between your ex and you.
"Yes, Fukuda. I spoke with my mother today. Rather last minute don't you think?"
The tone of your voice was chilling enough that even Shinso had to suppress a shudder. His gaze darted to you again, taking in the set of your shoulders and stern expression on your face. Just as he was about to pull you away, the woman spoke.
Her voice was sickly sweet - too polite to be interpreted as anything other than contempt.
"Oh, I don't think so. A month should be plenty of time... I'm sure you and your partner will have no problem getting the time off work."
Beside him, you straightened. The movement was almost imperceptible, had he not been focused on making sure you were alright, he might have missed it. But he didn't. Just as he didn't miss the way you pressed your lips into a firm line and the slight narrowing of your eyes.
"Unless of course, you don't have anyone to bring?"
Indignation on your behalf pulsed through him at the clear derision in her tone. Before he had a chance to think, he slung one arm around your shoulders. Finally, fully facing the woman before addressing her, boredom dripping from every word.
"'Course she's got someone to bring."
Your ex scoffed, a sneer curling his lips into an unpleasant expression.
"Tch, sure. And you are?"
From where you were tucked against him, Shinso felt you shift as one arm moved to wrap around his back - the faintest hint of a tremble in your fingers as they clung to the soft leather of his jacket.
"Shinso. Her partner."
At the mention of his name Fukuda stiffened, igniting a little rush of pride in Hitoshi's chest. His dark eyes immediately darted to you.
"Thought you said he was just a friend."
Ah, he was jealous.
"He was, Fukuda."
The woman looked between your ex and you, her gaze narrow and assessing, until a frown pulled her lips into a pathetic little pout.
"C'mon baby, you can catch-up at the wedding," she patted his chest, the flash of an obnoxiously large stone catching the light. "We better get back before everyone starts missing us."
Fukuda's jaw tensed, before he finally nodded at his fiancé. The pair turned and began walking back toward their table. Shinso kept his arm around your shoulders, turning slightly so that he was facing you more than them - though not enough to miss the way Fukuda turned around as if to say something before thinking better of it.
Shinso heard you let out a long breath, his attention immediately snapping to your face.
"Are you alright?"
Stepping firmly between you and the retreating forms of Fukuda and Muto, Shinso stooped a little in order to fully take in your expression. The weight of his hands on your shoulders seemed to settle some of whatever emotions were roiling beneath the surface as you took a deep breath and met his eyes.
You looked tired. Not just from the confrontation with Fukuda, there was more weighing on you - more you hadn't shared with him or, if he had to guess, anyone else.
"I'm okay, Shinso. Thanks for that," you gave a halfhearted laugh as you shrugged your shoulders.
"You sure? Cuz that guy was a dick. I get why Setsuna wanted to kill him now."
He tried to keep it light, make a joke kinda to cut through the heaviness that seemed to pervade your being.
With a snort, an amused smirk pulled at the corners of your mouth that sent a rush of relief through him. Hitoshi wasn't used to seeing you like this. Between the two of them, they'd had their fair share of difficulties, especially after the war. But even then, he'd never seen you look so lost.
"I'm sure. I'm just sorry you got wrapped up in all that." Another sigh left you when you maneuvered away from his hands and turned toward the bar where your previously forgotten drink sat waiting. "He's always known exactly how to get on my nerves."
He watched the way your shoulders loosened and dropped as you took a sip, the weariness from earlier becoming more apparent as you relaxed. After a moment of quiet, Shinso spoke again, the question falling from his lips with a hint of amusement.
"So, what exactly did I get myself into?"
You gave Shinso the cliff notes version of everything before rejoining your friends at the table. Kaminari asked what took so long, a teasing grin made his teeth shine in the low light of the bar. Instead of recounting the whole event, you waved it off as simply running into an old acquaintance. Hitoshi had raised a brow at that, but otherwise didn't comment.
By the time you made it back to your apartment a couple hours later exhaustion pressed heavily against every inch of your body. Despite getting a full night of rest and having the following day off, you were still drained.
Even now, almost two full weeks later, it was still sometimes hard to breathe when you remembered you were expected to attend your ex's wedding... His wedding to the woman he cheated on you with.
No one knew. Not your family, not your friends.
Ever the peacekeeper, you knew that even if you told your mother, it wouldn't change the fact that your families had been connected for generations. So close, in fact, that when you and Fukuda initially started dating it was treated as inevitable rather than a pleasant surprise.
And when you broke up... it took six months before it felt like things began to return to normal. Although, to be fair, anytime she tried to bring it up you would change the subject and deflect - not having the capacity to deal with the disappointment you know you caused her.
Shinso was supposed to be coming over this afternoon when he finished patrol to go over the schedule for the week you'd be gone and give you an opportunity to brief him on the various family and 'friends' who would be in attendance.
The low burbling of the coffee pot drifted from the kitchen into your bedroom where you were pulling on a tank top after showering off the sweat from a workout. It was old, but comfortable, the fabric soft after years of washing - the design on the front no longer identifiable. You wanted to feel cozy, wanted to know that even though the coming conversation would be awkward and a little infuriating, you could at least have some control over your own comfort level.
It was working, until the insistent buzz of your phone on the nightstand pulled you out of your thoughts and filled you with dread at the name displayed.
"Hey Ma," you tried to keep the sigh out of your voice as you answered.
"Hi honey, listen we need to go over the itinerary for the wedding week, some things have changed."
Of course they have.
"Sure Ma."
As if sensing your discomfort, a small chirp echoed down the hall from your home office. Faint footsteps, barely perceptible, reached you just before a round ball of fluff leapt up beside where you sat on the bed.
Kawa was a rescue, her soft tabby fur dense and soft beneath your fingers as she bumped her head to your hand for pets - another short chirp leaving when you let out an affirmative hum after your mother asked if you were listening. A deep rumbling purr vibrated out of her chest as you scratched that special spot just below her ear.
"Anyway, you'll need to be here for the whole week. Fumiko has something planned everyday starting Tuesday."
You suppressed a groan, knowing that part of the new schedule was simply to make you feel uncomfortable.
Begrudgingly, you listened as your mother listed the events you and Shinso are expected to attend - the week full from Tuesday to Sunday. Fortunately, the wedding was in Hokkaido, so as much as you were dreading having to actually attend, at least you'd be somewhere beautiful.
Letting your mother drone on, you put her on speaker when you felt your phone vibrate. Shinso's contact popped up, brief and to the point 'be there in 10.' Kawa let out another squeak, rubbing her head against your phone before you had a chance to respond.
"Is that my grandkitten?!" For the life of you, you couldn't figure out why your mother loved your cat so much. Until you'd brought the sweet thing back to your apartment a few years ago, you always thought she hated cats. "Hello my sweet Kawa! Baachan misses you!"
You huffed a laugh, "She misses you too, Ma. Listen, I have to go. Shinso is almost here."
"Oh, that reminds me! Why didn't I hear anything about the two of you dating until Fukuda's mother mentioned it? You two have been friends for so long, what changed?"
"I'm sorry, Ma, I don't have time right now. We can talk about it later."
"Oh... Alright, no worries honey." There was a subtle shift in her tone, a hint of an emotion you couldn't quite place. "Give me a call when you have a chance. I miss you."
A buzz from the intercom in the entry hall pulled your attention away from trying to identify your mothers’ words - Kawa bolting at the sound.
"Miss you too, Ma. I'll talk to you soon."
Three little beeps echoed from the speaker as you ended the call and walked to the kitchen. Less than a minute later you heard the door open as Shinso let himself in. The purple-haired hero has had the spare key to your apartment from the day you moved in.
As your best friend, you trusted no one more than Hitoshi and you knew he would never take advantage of that trust.
Just as you finished pouring him a cup of coffee, you looked up to find him leaning against the wall. Tired indigo eyes watched you carefully, before dropping to the small furry form weaving her way between his legs as she rubbed against him with happy chirps. A soft smile split across his face when he crouched to scratch that spot where her jaw meets her neck.
"Hey little one," his deep voice rumbled out like its own purr.
"I'm still convinced she likes you more than me."
He gave you a rare grin, smug satisfaction practically oozing off him.
"What can I say," he shrugged. "I'm a cat person."
With a soft chuckle, you extended the mug as he straightened. His rough fingers grasped the handle, pulling the steaming liquid toward him with a contented sigh.
"Thanks."
"Always gotta have coffee ready when you're coming over," another laugh slipped out as you walked past him toward the living room. "C'mon, my mother just gave me the schedule, so we should figure out what we want to do."
For the next hour or so, you filled him in on the itinerary and planned your own small adventures around them. The plan was to get into Hokkaido on Monday after you both finished work, your mother had graciously booked you a hotel room. Tuesday evening was supposed to be some kind of welcome party, so you took the time to scroll through various social media profiles to help Shinso in identifying the people he would be meeting. Most of Wednesday would be a free day, except for the morning, which you had been informed would be a 'girls morning' - whatever that meant.
You took a deep breath before you broached the subject of Thursday.
"Apparently, Fukuda and Muto decided they needed two bachelor/bachelorette parties. So, we have been volun-told to attend whatever inane nonsense they have planned."
It took every ounce of will-power not to groan and melt into your couch. Shinso was sitting close enough you could feel the heat of him against your skin - his knee occasionally bumping yours when one of you moved.
A soft chuckle left him at that as he relaxed back into the cushions of your couch.
"Any idea what to expect with this outing? I'm guessing the guys and girls will have their own shit going on?"
"I'm not certain, though I would guess that both will have lots of booze involved, and Fukuda will almost certainly have something inappropriate scheduled. But I don't know any specifics."
He gave you a nod, letting the conversation continue as you informed him of the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner Friday, before the wedding and reception on Saturday. Finally ending with a brunch on Sunday before everyone can go home. Shinso nodded along the whole time, humming occasionally to indicate he was listening and absorbing what you told him. Vibrant indigo eyes watched you with enough rapt attention that you felt your face heat under the weight of his gaze - a tightness beginning in your chest the longer his eyes were locked on you.
Just a few days later, Shinso found himself stepping out of the station in Sapporo as he shielded his eyes from the bright sun. The air was cooler here, lighter too - so unlike the heavy city air of Shizuoka and Tokyo. He had the strap of his pack slung over one shoulder, while one hand pulled his small suitcase along behind him.
Beside him, he heard you take a deep breath as you closed your eyes to let the sun warm your skin. A tentative peace softened your face, some of the tension in your shoulders easing as a barely-there smile pulled at the corners of your mouth. Shinso felt his heart stutter, a faint flutter turning in his stomach before he forced his eyes away to scan the station with a practiced eye.
Other passengers were leaving the building as new ones walked past on their way in to find their own way. The intercom within the building behind them spoke with a muffled voice he immediately tuned out since it had nothing to do with the two of them. Instinct and training had his eyes cataloguing potential dangers and exit routes, filing the information away so fast he almost didn't realize he was doing it.
The scrap of your shoe against the ground pulled his attention back to where you stood next to him.
"We should find a cab. My mom sent the address to the hotel earlier, so we shouldn't have a problem getting there."
Just as you finished speaking, someone called your name just loud enough to reach the pair of them over the din of the area.
What little relief had made its way into your posture was immediately replaced with tension. He observed carefully as you glanced in the direction of the voice. Following your eyeline, Hitoshi saw an older woman dressed in a well-made but simple dress standing beside a black SUV. The moment your eyes met hers, the woman broke into a broad, loving smile - the lines around her eyes gathering and softening her expression.
He didn't need you to tell him who she was, the resemblance was unmistakable.
A subtle groan left you before you glanced over to him and spoke softly, "Guess we better get this over with."
Shinso chuckled softly as you led him toward your mother. The older woman's smile never faltered, a proud glimmer shone in her eyes as she watched you. He couldn't quite understand your reaction based on how excited she was to see you, but he knew better than to trust blindly.
So, he shifted the handle of his bag to his other hand and took one larger step to catch up with you. Now standing just slightly behind you, he left his free hand gently touching the small of your back in an unspoken show of support.
Once they were only a few steps away from where your mother waited, she stepped forward, arms extended to pull you into a fierce hug.
"Hello sweetheart."
Despite your initial response, the moment your mother’s arms wrapped around you, Shinso watched the tension fall from your form. A long sigh left you as you tucked your head into the older woman's shoulder.
"Hey Ma." Your voice was muffled by the fabric pressing against your face.
Keeping a respectful distance, Shinso smiled softly at the obvious relief in both of the women in front of him once they finally had the chance to hold each other. He knew that, as much as you may complain about your parents, you had a good relationship with your mother.
When they eventually pulled away from each other, the older woman gently traced her hand down your cheek with a tender look on her face.
You cleared your throat, taking a step back toward him as you gestured between himself and your mother, "Mom, I'd like to introduce you to Shinso Hitoshi. Shinso, this is my mom."
Stooping into a bow, he spoke as he straightened, making sure to keep his tone light, "It's an honor to meet you, Ma'am. Thank you for accommodating me with such short notice."
"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Shinso. My daughter has told me so much about you... though she conveniently left out the fact that you two are dating."
That same proud smile graced her mature face, deepening the wrinkles around her eyes.
"I apologize," he tucked his head in faux-shame. "I asked to keep it quiet for now considering my work. I didn't want to get her sucked into any complications while I was in the middle of a difficult investigation."
From the corner of his eye, he saw you look at him with a raised brow. They hadn't really established a backstory since they'd been friends for so long, he'd agreed that they could just say the friendship organically morphed into a relationship. But, when your mother made her point, he realized they did need a reason why no one knew.
"That's right, you're a Pro aren't you? I'm sorry I forgot," she let out a good-natured laugh while turning around and gesturing to the car. "I don't follow heroes very closely, so I only really remember the ones near the top of the ranks."
He noticed you wince a little at your mothers’ words, though he didn't pick up on any derision or malicious intent in her tone.
Once the bags were loaded into the car, they climbed in. The ride to the hotel was comfortable, and conversation flowed easily between Shinso and your mother. You would occasionally chime in adding to some story or providing an answer for something the others didn't know.
By the time they reached the hotel, Shinso could tell how much lighter you were feeling. A gentle smile hovered on your lips, an amused glint in your eyes. Everything felt like it was going as smoothly as possible... until you stepped into the hotel room. Freezing just a few steps inside as you stared straight ahead.
The hotel was beautiful, immaculately decorated, friendly and helpful staff who greeted your mother by name. Your room was on the top floor. In fact, the entire top floor had been reserved for guests of Fukuda's wedding. All of that was perfect - wonderful, in fact. At least that way you wouldn't have to worry about hearing people above you at night.
Once she'd led you to your room, your mother said a quick goodbye before she departed in the direction of her own room. Calling over her shoulder to be ready for dinner at seven, she and your father wanted to take you out tonight.
You'd been looking forward to getting into the room so you could put your bags down and get some of your more delicate outfits hung up.
Then you walked in...
Everyone 'knew' that you and Shinso were a 'couple,' but for some reason, it never occurred to you that when your mother booked the room there would only be one bed.
"Can you move a bit? I can't close the door."
You hadn't realized you'd frozen in the entry until Hitoshi's voice pulled your attention away from the single large bed off to the side of the room. He looked up from where he was trying to maneuver his bag to meet your wide eyes. A brief scowl of confusion creased his brow until he looked over your shoulder to see what you'd been looking at.
As soon as he did, understanding flooded his expression, before it quickly morphed into a smug smirk.
"Didn't think this part through, did ya Fudō (steadfast, immovable)?"
With a huff of exasperation, you rolled your eyes and moved out of his way, "Obviously not."
A chuckle rumbled out of his chest, "Relax. Not like it's the first time we've had a sleepover."
He was right, of course. But that had been in high school, when you were both still young and trying to come to terms with a new reality after the war. After graduation you went off to university while Shinso started his Hero career. There had been occasional sleepovers at friends’ houses, everyone sprawled out across couches and floors.
Nothing as... intimate as sharing a bed.
You could still feel his eyes on you, so instead of acknowledging that, you stepped further into the room to begin hanging the clothes you brought that needed it. After a few minutes of silence, what slight awkwardness there had been quickly disappeared and allowed the two of you to fall into a familiar rhythm.
Shinso had always been easy to be around, neither of you felt the need to fill silence with idle chatter or noise for the sake of noise.
It didn't take long for both of you to have your suitcases unpacked and everything carefully put away. Shinso stashed your bags in the entry closet out of the way. Once you had a chance to breathe, you walked over to the tall windows that overlooked the massive park below. The bright summer colors were a refreshing break from the stark sharpness of city life, with rich greens and vibrant spots of color from the various gardens dotted throughout the park. Every few minutes you could make out people wandering beneath the trees that dominated most of the area.
From here you could almost forget why you were in Sapporo to begin with.
Your purple-haired friend didn't say anything when he came to stand beside you. Companionable silence enveloping the two of you in warmth and comfort.
Dinner with your parents was easier than Shinso had anticipated. Your mom was attentive and just seemed glad you were there. She asked you about work and life, and everything in between - which he was thankful for. It meant he was able to sit back and take everything in.
He watched the way your eyes lit up as you talked about some of the more challenging aspects of your job - clearly excited about the challenge of it. Enthusiasm seemed to almost radiate out of you the more you explained the difficulties of Quirk retraining and how useful your own Quirk had been when working with your clients. There was unmistakable joy the more you settled into the familiar territory of the profession you knew so well.
You father was quiet - a fairly serious man that Shinso immediately clocked was where your determination and steadfast resolve came from. He'd greeted Hitoshi with a neutral tone. His eyes, the same color as your own, raked over him in a calculated sweep - his expression never shifting. Finally, he gave a rough nod toward the table and led the pair to where your mother waited.
As the meal progressed, the older man remained quiet. Occasionally, he'd chime in to ask a question of his own or offer some hard-won insight. But for the most part, he seemed content to let you and your mother dominate the conversation.
For his part, Shinso was fascinated with the person you became around your parents. It was as if you were more yourself, while also wearing a barely-there mask that he'd never seen on you before. He noticed the faint hesitation as you considered each word before speaking, picked up on the subtle shift in your body language when your mother would ask about something you weren't sure how to answer. When that happened, you gave yourself the span of a breath before answering with a smooth neutral response that offered nothing of your own thoughts on the subject.
It was a strange dance that exhausted him just watching.
By the time the pair returned to their room, it was well past 10 and the day of travel weighed heavy on both of them.
Shinso was lounging on the bed in his pajamas when you stepped out of the bathroom after your shower. Your hair was piled on top of your head in a messy bun; a few strands had fallen loose and now hung damp around your face and neck. The scent of your soap followed after as you walked past the bed to the drawer where you'd stored some of your bathroom products so they wouldn't clutter up the counter.
He'd done his best not to stare, but that little pajama set captivated him the moment you stepped into the room wearing it. Soft lilac satin fell comfortably over your curves, little grey buttons up the front held the cute collared sleep shirt together while a simple lace detail along the hem of the shorts drew his eye before he could stop himself.
A flush heated his cheeks when you stooped to tuck whatever had been in your hand back into the drawer, the entirely too short (they aren't) shorts rising just enough that he had to look away before it became an issue.
Just as you were turning around, he directed his attention back to his phone, the email he'd been reading completely forgotten when you walked in. Schooling his face back into his usual neutral bored expression, he glanced up again when you paused on your side of the bed.
"Promise to stay on your side?"
There was a hint of laughter in your voice that finally made Shinso look you in the eye.
He'd been friends with you for so long at this point that it was immediately clear you were uncomfortable, or maybe nervous. Either way, you had your 'I'm trying to be serious face' on, which meant you expected the same from him.
He huffed a laugh of his own, "If I remember correctly, you were always the one who couldn't seem to stay on your side."
With a scoff, you threw back the thin blanket and sheet before sliding in beside him and muttering, "It's not my fault I move in my sleep."
Another laugh escaped him at your grumbling.
"I promise," he eventually conceded as he set his phone aside and turned out the light. "I'll stay on my side, and if you want, we can request more pillows so you can build a wall."
That earned a chuckle from you.
It was almost an hour after you'd joined him in bed and Shinso was still staring at the ceiling. Your breathing had evened out not long after he'd turned the lights off. The soft rhythm of your breaths should have been enough to lull him to sleep too.
Instead, his heart was pounding so loud he was shocked you hadn't woken up. No longer than 20 minutes after you fell asleep, you'd immediately rolled over to his side of the bed and looped your arm across his torso. A contented sigh was the only change in your otherwise even breathing, and Shinso did not want to acknowledge what that sound did to him.
It was going to be a long week.
Tuesday
The following day ended up being much busier than you had anticipated. You were up before Shinso, which didn't surprise you at all. Rather than linger in the room, you rose and began your usual morning routine before throwing on a pair of leggings and a thin long-sleeve shirt. The sun was still low, barely lighting the sky above the nearby mountains when you slipped from the room and made your way to the park for a run.
You usually preferred lifting or sparring, but the hotel didn't have a gym and you weren't about to ask a stranger to fight you.
By the time you returned to your room the sun had fully risen, chasing the lingering morning chill from the air. Your skin was sticky with cooling sweat and you'd been fantasizing about the shower in your room from the moment you'd stepped into the lobby. What you hadn't been expecting, was to walk into your room to find Hitoshi lounging shirtless on the bed, a mug of steaming coffee held in one hand while he read something on the laptop propped up on his legs.
Shinso was one of the heroes you always found to be deceptively in shape. His costume hung loose off his form, giving him plenty of room to move with little to no restriction, which was perfect for his combat style. However, that often led to you (and others) forgetting just how built your best friend actually was.
It took more effort than you were willing to admit to pull your gaze away from the hard lines of muscle across his abdomen and chest. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice your moment of stunned staring, his eyes having never left whatever he was reading.
The two of you offered quick mumbled 'good mornings' before you retreated to the bathroom to rinse off - desperately trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks.
45 minutes later, you and Shinso joined your parents for breakfast in one of the hotel's restaurants. The food was perfect, the coffee was hot, and you were on the verge of finally feeling settled when your mother broke the news that she needed your help with getting the rooftop bar ready for the evening's 'Welcome Party.'
You didn't try to hide the groan that scratched at your throat on the way out.
A chuckle rumbled out of your father's chest, taking you by surprise, "My thoughts exactly."
Before you could stop it, a small smile tugged at your lips knowing your father shared your feelings for the frivolity of it all.
"Oh, stop it," your mother playfully pushed at his shoulder, an exasperated laugh lacing her words. "You don't even have to help, 'Mr. Businessman'."
When you were young, this flirtatious warmth used to embarrass you. Now, you only felt a pang in your chest when you saw the love still bright in your parents’ eyes even after decades of marriage. Deep down, it was something you'd always hoped to have one day.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
Shinso’s deep voice pulled you from your thoughts. The question was directed at your mother, but his eyes lingered on you for a heartbeat before he turned to look at her.
"That's very kind of you, Shinso! But I think we can manage. We won't be the only ones working." She paused, giving him a considering look before her eyes flicked to you for a moment. "But if you'd like to keep us company, you're welcome to come along - so long as you can stay out of the way."
An unrestrained giggle left her when your father shook his head at her antics.
"I can do that." Shinso nodded, his indigo hair shifting slightly with the movement. "Plus, then I'll be close if you decide you need a hand."
It was almost three in the afternoon by the time the rooftop bar was organized and decorated exactly to Muto's specifications. Seasonal blooms were used in simple centerpieces for the tables, soft string-lights had been hung across the open space, and servers in crisp black uniforms were beginning to arrive in preparation for the evenings event.
True to his word, Shinso sat quietly at one of the tables off to the side with his laptop catching up on paperwork while he had the downtime. Occasionally, your mother or one of the other people helping would request his assistance reaching something a bit too high for them or moving a piece of furniture to a new location at Muto's request. The older women would 'ooo and ahh' over 'how strong and handsome' he was, causing a faint flush to color his cheeks as he looked away with a sheepish smile.
For your part, you had a hard time looking away too. Anytime he reached above his head the hem of his shirt would tug up above the waistline of his jeans, revealing a thin strip of toned muscle and warm skin beneath.
Every time it happened you had to force your gaze elsewhere with a shake of your head. Where was this coming from? You and Shinso had been friends for years. He was the person you trusted most in this world. How could you suddenly find your best friend attractive?
You were leaning over the little vanity space in the room, carefully applying a final sweep of lipstick. The dress you'd chosen was elegant in its modesty - the dark grey fabric clung to your body in all the right places, highlighting the parts of yourself you liked the best. A square neckline held up by two-finger width straps made your neck the perfect place to show-off that necklace you bought ages ago and never had a chance to wear. Matching earrings hung from your ears, peeking out from beneath the loose up-do you'd spent far too long styling.
Each part of your outfit had been painstakingly picked out to make sure no one could try to accuse you of upstaging or showing off. It wasn't that you thought that would happen, but you wouldn't put it past Muto or her friends.
It wasn't until you heard the deep rumble of Shinso clearing his throat, that you realized he'd come back into the room.
His hair was half pulled back, giving him a more mature appearance you only saw when he dressed for important events. A dark, nearly black, navy button-up - whose sleeves strained against the concealed muscle beneath - was tucked into grey slacks. You heart stuttered for a moment before you caught the faint look of worry? in his eyes.
"This okay? Wasn't exactly sure what the dress code was."
There was a hint of trepidation in his voice as you gave him a once over - using his question as an excuse to fully appreciate the view in front of you.
Stepping forward, you smoothed an imaginary wrinkle at his collar as you spoke, "You look great, Shin."
A crooked grin stretched the corners of your mouth, genuine and soft, as a faint pink hue colored his cheeks from your words.
He didn't understand how you managed it. The welcome party had started at 6, though the pair of them had arrived at 5:30 to assist with any last-minute adjustments. Thankfully, there had been few, if any that required your specific attention.
Then other guests began to arrive.
Shinso was used to crowds, used to handling interviews and enduring various hero functions. Those had nothing on the party the families were throwing now.
You handled it all with a grace and dignity he could do nothing but at admire. Every time someone approached the two of you, you'd smile and offer a bow before introducing him as your partner. If it was someone you knew well - of which there were many - you'd follow the same introductory steps before launching into conversation as you caught up with people you likely hadn't seen in years.
Hours passed, the sky darkened and those soft lights they'd hung earlier illuminated the space in warm light. Servers floated through the space with practiced ease, drinks and hor d'oeuvre's balanced with care on trays held aloft as they worked the floor.
You were across the rooftop from where Shinso was leaning against a railing, cool glass hanging from the tips of his fingers. A soft smile decorated his face as you almost seemed to dance from person to person.
He so rarely had the opportunity to see you in your element like this. Unlike himself, you'd always been a people person. It wasn't that you always wanted to be around people, but when you were, you made it seem so easy. And that ease was something Shinso had come to truly appreciate about you. You were almost always able to make people feel comfortable in your presence, a skill he was infinitely grateful for when you attended various events with him.
Soft music drifted from a nearby speaker, muffling some of the chatter from the guests scattered across the rooftop. For the first time in a long time, Shinso felt himself relaxing as he settled into the imaginary reality that this could be his life - if this relationship wasn't fake. It was impossible to ignore the way the thought ripped through his chest.
But the smile on his face didn't falter as his eyes continued to track you across the bar - the warmth that radiated from your own grin, the way your face brightened every time you laughed.
He was so focused on where you were, he almost didn't notice the older woman who now stood beside him in comfortable silence. Various introductions from earlier in the evening flashed through his mind until he remembered you introducing her as Fukuda's grandmother. The elderly woman had embraced you as if you were one of her own, the strength of her grip apparent before she then pulled Shinso into a hug of his own.
Finally dragging his eyes away from you, Shinso looked down to see her already looking up at him with a knowing glint in her eyes. He'd barely opened his mouth to speak when she beat him to it.
"It's been a long while since I've seen her this happy," Fukuda's grandmother shifted her gaze to where you were chatting animatedly with a small group.
His eyes lingered on your longer than he'd intended, so when he looked back to the elder beside him, she was once again watching him with eyes far too sharp for someone of her age.
"My husband passed a few years ago," she began, waving him off before he had a chance to offer his sympathies. "Despite that, I would recognize that look on your face anywhere."
She paused, assessing him.
"It's the same look my husband used to wear, even before we were married."
Shinso didn't know how to respond to that. His stomach twisted uncomfortably as his heart hammered in his chest.
She gave him a soft smile as she patted his shoulder, "Take care of our girl. She's one of the good ones."
Wednesday
The lights in the salon felt too bright as you sat in front of the technician. Your toes were tucked under the little fan at her station, the cool air sending a chill up your legs when the polish dried. Of all the activities your mother had told you to expect, being stuck with Muto and her bridal party for a morning of getting your nails done was absolutely the one you'd dreaded the most.
Shinso had tried to talk you out of going before you left, insisting you didn't need to torture yourself just because Muto had 'asked' for you to be there.
But you knew better. You knew that if you refused to go, or didn't show up it would just make everything worse. She'd be able to use that against you anytime your families were together at various events, and, in all honesty, you didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing you'd bailed.
So, there you sat occasionally answering questions from the technician, but otherwise just trying to think about literally anything other than the vicious, barely vague comments coming from Muto's friends.
Of course, the bitch didn't have the balls to say anything herself. She'd rather let her friends do the trash talking.
You took a deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs almost to the point of pain before you slowly let it out. Images from the night before flickered to life behind your eyes, reminding you that their hate was not the reality you had to live in.
Instead, you let the warm feelings of conversation with old friends and the support of your parents surround you. You thought back to the enthusiastic hugs and easy chatter, the way the cool night air helped soothe your overheated body, and the way Shinso's large hand felt like it belonged when he rested it against the small of your back.
Or the way you'd woken up this morning with your back to his chest and one arm loosely holding you around the waist. A flush warmed your face as you remembered how carefully you'd had to get out of bed to avoid waking him. Though would that have really been a bad thing? To both of you waking up in each other’s arms?
Your breath caught in your throat as the thought raced unbidden through your mind. Heat flooded your system in embarrassment when you realized you'd just thought that about your best friend.
Shinso was here to help, nothing more.
The thought hurt more than you expected it to. He'd always been the person you went to when life felt like it was too much, just as he came to you when the stress of his own life threatened to overwhelm him. You two knew each other better than anyone else.
Because you're friends. Because anything more could ruin everything.
Swallowing hard, you pushed last night from your mind and focused only on the gentle efficiency of the tech currently applying the final layer of color to your fingers.
By the time you made it back to the hotel your body was heavy with exhaustion. Your thoughts had been running in circles despite your best effort to keep it under control - not to mention the echo of each and every hurtful comment Muto's bridal party threw your way. It stung more than you wanted to admit, especially considering you hadn't even been the one to ruin the relationship with Fukuda.
He'd cheated. With Muto.
Shinso wasn't in the room when you got back - for which you were thankful. It meant you didn't need to worry about embarrassing yourself when you flopped face first onto the bed and let out a long, drawn-out groan.
"Went that well, huh?"
The deep voice of the purple-haired hero rumbled out from the direction of the bathroom where he stood toweling off damp hair.
Without raising your head, you forced out a tired "Mhm."
The room was quiet for a moment, heavy with the words you wouldn't say. Until he spoke again.
"C'mon, we're going out."
You hardly had a chance to breathe before Shinso was hauling you off the bed and dragging you back out into the summer heat. The air was heavy with humidity, leaving your skin feeling sticky despite the breeze. Thick bands of clouds moved quickly overhead, occasionally offering respite from the blinding sun.
Voices filled the area with excited chatter as the two of you wandered through Odori Park. The annual summer festival usually lasted for most of the season. The long park had been transformed into a massive beer garden with various stalls and vendors selling different beer, food, and miscellaneous other goodies. Large tents had been set up to offer a break from the heat, with long tables and folding chairs arranged around them for weary festival guests to rest their feet.
It was well into the afternoon now, and the two of you had been walking and chatting for a couple of hours, the familiar ease of his presence settling the anxious energy from the morning surrounded by Muto's posse.
At some point while you'd been wandering, Shinso's hand found yours, his fingers loosely lacing with your own without a word. Your heart felt like it was going to fly from your chest with how fast it was beating, while you tried desperately not to show any other reaction. Hitoshi carried on as if nothing had happened, his deep voice continuing on with a story of one of his more recent missions.
Pausing under one of the many tents for some shade, you fell into silence as your gaze tracked lazily around the area.
A breeze kicked up, bringing with it the scents of savory food. Much to your embarrassment, the delicious smells set your stomach rumbling, a sharp reminder of the fact that it was well into the afternoon and you hadn't eaten since breakfast.
Shinso gaze dropped to you, an amused smirk playing at his lips, "Hungry?"
You gave his shoulder a playful shove, "Not my fault somebody dragged me out before I had a chance to eat."
He chuckled, his heavy frame barely moving with your push, "Alright, my bad. How 'bout I make it up to you and buy us something to eat?"
Faking a swoon, you threw one hand to your forehead in a dramatic gesture, "Oh, my hero!"
There was a heartbeat of silence as he stared at you… before the two of you doubled over in laughter - his deep rumble felt almost like it was vibrating through your bones with his proximity. By the time you caught your breath, you were wiping tears from your eyes, only to look up and catch Shinso already watching you. Deep amethyst irises observed you with an unguarded fondness he rarely let show.
Heat rushed up the back of your neck as his gaze held yours.
As if he suddenly realized he'd been staring, Hitoshi cleared his throat, "I'll - uh, I'll go get food. Find us someplace to sit, yeah?"
Unable to form the words, you simply nodded before he turned his back and walked toward one of the stalls the two of you had been eyeing.
With a shake of your head, you turned away from where he'd gone, searching for someplace to sit down. Not far from where you stood were a handful of tables situated beneath the shade of a few large trees. Most of the seats were vacant, so you took the opportunity to claim places for yourself and Shinso.
You were about to sit down when the sound of your name drew your attention to someone walking up behind you.
A broad smile broke across your face when you recognized the elderly woman approaching. Despite the way your relationship with Fukuda had ended, you and his grandmother had remained close. The older woman had been one of your biggest supporters from the moment your relationship began, and it meant the world to you.
"Baachan (grandma)! It's so good to see you!"
Bending forward just slightly, you stooped to wrap her in a warm hug. Despite her age and seemingly frail appearance, there was a strength to her embrace that grounded you in a way very few could.
In fact, the only other person had just gone to get food.
"Magomusume (granddaughter)," the older woman's voice was rough with age but still full of fondness and warmth. "I'm so glad to see you away from all the wedding nonsense."
You released her with a laugh, "Just a few more days, Baachan. Then we can all get back to our own lives again."
She gave you a warm smile, but there was a heaviness around her eyes you didn't recognize.
"I'm sorry you got dragged into all of this, Magomusume." There was true remorse in her voice, it made your chest tight. Then, just as suddenly, she leaned forward as if to share a secret, "But I always knew you were too good for Shinji."
She gave you a conspiratorial grin that made you laugh - truly laugh, in a way that felt like it lifted years of heartache from your soul.
"Thank you, Baachan," you were tempted to follow up with something else, but couldn't think of anything to add. Fortunately, Fukuda's grandmother wasn't done.
You looked down at her to see her gaze fixed somewhere on the other side of the park. Following her eyeline, you felt your heart stutter when you realized she was looking at Shinso. When you finally pulled your eyes away, you found her observant eyes already locked on you, a knowing smile curling her lips.
"I haven't seen you this happy in a long time, sweetheart." She reached over to wrap a warm dry hand around yours, giving it a little squeeze. "You two are good for each other, I can see it in the way you light up when he's nearby."
Heat flooded your face, competing against the already heavy heat of the day.
"Obaa-"
She cut you off, "You don't owe me or anyone else an explanation, Magomusume. Just know that you will always have my support. And, if I may offer an old woman's hard-earned wisdom? Hold tight to the ones who love as deeply as you do."
Thursday
Despite the chaos surrounding him, Shinso was only half-aware of the too-loud conversations being shouted over the pounding bass. This was the third bar they'd been to so far tonight... although bar might be the wrong word for this place. It wasn't quite a club, but it wasn't just a bar either.
The space was crowded; bodies packed the makeshift dance floor that he was actively keeping as far away from as possible. Fukuda and the rest of his wedding party moved like predators amongst the other patrons - something Shinso was sure to keep a close eye on.
Fortunately, they had all respected the "no's" when given, which relieved some of the pressure in his chest.
Beside him, the sound of ice against glass pulled his eyes from the mass of bodies. Inoue Tanemori, another 'friend' of Fukuda who'd been invited to the pre-wedding activities but wasn't a groomsman. He was apparently another friend of the family who was here purely for the optics of it all. He and Shinso had bonded immediately when Fukuda and his best man started to down shots before they'd even left the hotel.
"How is that fun?" Inoue's deep voice cut beneath the noise to reach Shinso.
With a shake of his head, amethyst irises drifted back to where one of the groomsmen was holding himself upright against a half-wall - even stationary he swayed like the floor was about to fall out from beneath him.
"No idea. But I'll bet they're gonna try and get us to 'help' them to the next bar."
Irritation flashed across Inoue's face, "Absolutely not. If the fuckers can't walk themselves, I'm leaving them on the sidewalk and they can call for help."
A huff of laughter left him as he took a sip from his drink. There was a faint heat in his cheeks from the alcohol, but nowhere near enough to impair his judgement.
Just as he opened his mouth to say something else, his phone vibrated - your contact lighting up the screen with an old picture of the two of them still back in school. His arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you partially upright while you were nearly doubled over mid-laugh with a bright smile on your face. It was his favorite picture of the two of you. A candid one of your friends had managed to catch that Shinso had practically begged them to send to him.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Inoue raise a brow at the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth.
He looked up to meet the other man's eye after he unlocked the screen, "My girlfriend got roped into the bachelorette party."
With a nod, Inoue shifted his gaze back to the room around them - while Shinso fought desperately against the way his heart felt like it had been dunked in ice water from at the words he'd just uttered. Every time he was forced to call you his made his soul yearn for it to be true.
Refocusing on the screen, he finally took the time to read your messages.
Fudō: This is awful. All they wanna do is gossip about people I've never heard of.
Ugh! Tell me why they JUST decided to make this a bar crawl?! I didn't wear the right shoes for that!
A couple more messages followed, more general complaints that didn't require a response. He knew you weren't really expecting one either - rather you were using the thread as a place to vent. Something the two of you did often. Until he read the most recent message and he couldn't stop the cold chuckle that slipped out.
Fudō: SHIN! Where are you guys???
Muto wants to know! She thinks Fukuda might be CHEATING!
She wants to try and catch him!
Inoue's head snapped to lock on him, "Didn't like that sound."
It wasn't a question, but his tone made it clear he was hoping for an explanation.
Quickly sending the name of the bar to you, Shinso locked his phone before gesturing toward where Fukuda and the other guys were still prowling.
"Apparently the bride-to-be doesn't trust Fukuda. They wanted to know where we were so that she could come check on him."
An amused spark ignited in Inoue's eyes as he listened, "Oh this is gonna be interesting."
Tipping his head back to the dance floor, Shinso looked over to see Fukuda's mouth locked onto some random blonde's. She had one hand threaded into the hair at the back of his head while the other looked to be grabbing in a desperate attempt to bring their already flush bodies closer together. Hitoshi wrinkled his nose at the sight, not just the overt display, but the fact that in less than two days Fukuda is supposed to be getting married.
For a moment, he considered taking a picture - sending it to you so you can share it with Muto.
Then he remembers that saccharine sweet smile the woman had leveled at you the night at the bar, the way her lips spoke to something only you knew, and whatever it was, delighted her.
So, he didn't, he kept his distance, falling back on familiar habits he picked up through his Pro work as he let his mind drift.
It was the third morning he'd awoken beside you, only this morning was different than before. In that time, he'd come to realize you had an unconscious tendency to snuggle with whomever you shared a bed with.
He'd barely slept the first night, drifting in and out of consciousness at the slightest sounds and movements from you or the building. That morning, he was still laying on his back while you had your arms wrapped around one of his own, your face tucked into the warmth of his shoulder. He was acutely aware of how the softness of your chest pressed against the hard lines of muscle in his arm.
The second night was better... and worse. They chatted for a while after returning to the room. Shinso couldn't get Fukuda's grandmother's words out of his mind.
"It's the same look my husband used to wear, even before we were married."
Years. What started as respect when they were classmates had become more over time. A quiet ache he'd made sure to bury so far down not a single soul knew but him. Yet, when he agreed to be your 'fake boyfriend' it was like the act had allowed that tightly kept secret to sneak through in ways he'd never considered.
So that night, when you'd rolled over and curled against him, he'd lifted his arm at the first sign of your shift - letting you settle before he gently wrapped his arm around you. When he woke before you the next morning, a peace he hadn't felt since before the War settled low in his chest when he felt the soft rise and fall of your breaths against his hold. The even movements lulling him quickly back to sleep.
A too-loud giggle drew his gaze away from where he'd been maintaining a subtle watch over the bar's interior. One of Fukuda's groomsmen was getting comfortable with a woman in a neon pink top and miniskirt. His hand was drifting up the girl's side, her flushed cheeks speaking to the heat of the room and the alcohol she'd enjoyed.
Disgust turned his stomach as he looked away - letting himself settle back into the warm memories from just this morning.
Gentle movement from where you lay trapped in his arms slowly roused him from sleep. Shinso hadn't even opened his eyes yet when you shifted again. Reflexively, he tightened his hold on you, pulling you more firmly against his chest - where he could feel the warmth of your breath fan against the fabric of his shirt.
Distantly, he felt more than heard the quiet chuckle that escaped you. But rather than acknowledge the fact that friends certainly don't snuggle like this, he chose to allow himself the quiet opportunity to hold you for as long as he could.
You didn't fight it, didn't say anything after your initial quiet laugh. Instead, you relaxed into his grip, your shoulders falling loose as you leaned forward to tuck your head more firmly into his chest. The soft scent of your shampoo washed over him, warm and familiar in a way that made his chest ache.
He didn't give himself the chance to reconsider his next action - only having enough forward thinking to be able to use the excuse that he was still mostly asleep if he had to - when he ducked his head forward to press a kiss to the top of your head.
Irritation boiled low at the back of your head as you watched the way Muto so casually threw herself at yet another poor unsuspecting bar patron. The woman got bored faster than anyone you'd ever met, meaning that what should have been a casual night of drifting lazily between two or three bars, had turned into the group now stumbling their way out of the fifth establishment.
Muto was dressed in all white, the minidress barely covering the swell of her ass was accompanied by nearly too tall white stilettos, a silky white "Bride" sash, and a small glittering tiara.
The rest of the group wore a wide variety of outfits with the bridal party wearing various shades of dusty blue dresses and the handful of other guests in whatever outfit they felt would draw Muto's ire the least. You'd gone with a simple mulberry dress that hit just above your knees. The skirt had two loose layers, one slightly longer than the other to offer a hint of volume while the bodice hugged your torso just enough to show-off your curves while not being skin tight. The neckline accentuated the slope of your neck with little sleeves ending just past the caps of your shoulders.
You'd worn your hair loose, though made sure to tuck a couple of extra hair-ties in your bag in case you or someone else might need one. The soft clack of your heels acted as a metronome as you guided the swaying party in the direction of the bar Shinso had told you the guys were at. Thankfully, it was only a little over a block away.
"I'm telling you!" Muto's loud voice seemed to almost echo across the already busy sidewalk, "I just know he's probably all over some whore!"
You winced at her word choice as several others on the street shot your group dirty looks. Lifting your eyes with an apologetic shrug, you couldn't help the little bit of pleasure you took in her paranoia. It wasn't hard to remember how you'd felt when you found out about Fukuda's infidelity in your own relationship.
A part of you wanted to be a good person and hoped for the best for their relationship because deep down, you wouldn't wish the hurt you experienced on anyone... even them. But there was that little petty part of you that quietly hoped the two of them would get to experience the karma they had so righteously earned.
You knew that Fukuda wouldn't really care if he got caught, he never had. You also knew that the whole reason you agreed not to share the real reason the two of you broke up was because he desperately wanted to stay in his family's good graces. His grandmother, who still adored you, was the matriarch as well as the person who could decide whether he'd have a place in the pages when she passed.
The vibration of your phone drew your attention away from the still stumbling and shouting bride-to-be.
Shin: Doing alright? This place is getting crowded.
I hate it.
A small smile cracked across your face when the second message appeared. You could almost see the look on his face as he sent it, could almost feel the way his chest would vibrate with a low growl as he complained.
Me: Be there soon. I can see the door.
Fair warning. She's still screaming, so this is probably gonna be loud.
You glanced down one more time to see the little thumps down reaction appear next to your final message and had to bite back a laugh.
Just a few minutes later, your group burst through the doors of the packed club. Dim light added to the somewhat hazy atmosphere as the bass seemed to vibrate into your bones. Heat from the interior and the lingering effects of what you'd drank earlier immediately had your skin feeling somewhat sticky and uncomfortable.
"Where is he?!"
Muto's screech cut through the pulsing music, drawing eyes from around the room.
You took a step back and away, gaze scanning the crowded room for a familiar pair of violet eyes. It didn't take long after Muto's outburst for his tired stare to find your own.
"You better not be with some fucking bitch, SHINJI!!"
Another shout sliced through the air, now pulling the attention of one of the bartenders who shot a confused look to a burly man dressed in black leaning against the wall not far away. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the face of your ex suddenly appear within a group of still writhing dance floor patrons. His eyes were wide, cheeks tinted pink from heat and alcohol as a woman you didn't recognize tried to pull on his arm.
"If you want to avoid whatever chaos is about to ensue, we should leave now."
The deep rumble of Shinso's voice behind you would have startled you if you weren't so used to his ability to move without being noticed.
With a quick nod, you gave him a relieved smile before replying, "Good call. I don't really wanna get kicked out just cuz they're being obnoxious."
As if on cue, another indignant shriek cut through the air.
"I SEE YOU WITH THAT LITTLE BITCH!!"
Laughter bubbled up from your chest as you leaned against Hitoshi's strong shoulder. The two of you had found your way to a quiet little bar a couple blocks from the hotel. Local beers sat nearly empty on the table in front of you as he filled you in on the 'horrors' he'd endured earlier in the evening with the groomsmen and their friends.
Warmth bloomed in your chest as he quietly chuckled beside you, shifting his own weight to bump against you in a familiar gesture.
Alcohol had lowered some of the guard you usually kept up, even around your friends, and that is what gave you the confidence to loop your arm through his as you sighed.
"Ya know, I don't think I would've been able to do this without you."
The sudden almost somber tone of your own voice took you by surprise. You felt him stiffen and a sharp spike of fear coursed through you as you worried you overstepped - though, with your words or your hold you weren't sure.
He huffed a breath and leaned into you for barely a heartbeat before he relaxed back into his original position.
"You woulda been fine. Just probably wouldn't’ve had as much fun."
You looked up to find him already watching you, a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks as he gave you a cheeky grin. Breath caught in your chest just long enough that you know he noticed, but didn't call attention to it.
Just before you had a chance to reply, your server appeared at the table. Her soft pink hair was cut in a cute bob that accentuated the sharp line of her jaw and high cheekbones. She gave you both a smile, her gaze lingering a little longer on Shinso.
"How do we feel about another round? Or do you need anything to eat?"
Straightening, you pulled away from the purple-haired hero beside you - a tightness in your chest suddenly making it a little hard to breathe. This is fake, you reminded yourself, letting Shinso handle the server as you tried desperately to rebuild the walls you'd painstakingly built after Fukuda broke your heart; only for Shinso to have slowly broken them down over the last few days.
He's your friend after all. He'd do this for anyone in the group. Though a little part of you whispered that that wasn't true.
After paying for your drinks, the two of you left. The evening air was colder than you expected it to be for this time of year, a light breeze raising goosebumps along your arms as you reflexively wrapped them around your abdomen in an attempt to stay warm.
You'd barely gone more than more than a few steps before the heavy weight of something warm and soft was draped over your shoulders. Warmth immediately returned to you as the lingering heat from his jacket soaked into your bare skin.
With a glance to your side, Shinso was staring straight ahead, his hands tucked casually into his pockets while his sleeves were pushed up just below his elbow. You're not sure when it happened, but sometime in the last few years, your gangly awkward best friend had become a walking magazine shoot.
What had been hidden beneath his usual soft leather jacket was a dark navy sweater, the collar of a white shirt beneath gently folded along the neckline. Grey slacks clung to the muscle of his thighs, tapering at the ankle where they fell to hide the top of the dark boots covering his feet.
You hadn't even realized you were staring until he cast a quick glance at you from the corner of his eye, "You've been quiet."
Embarrassment flashed hot in your chest as you looked away, instinctively pulling his jacket a little tighter around you. It wasn't exactly a question, but you also knew he was looking for an answer. Hitoshi would never force you to talk about something you didn't want to, though he always made sure you were aware he was willing to lend an ear if you needed it.
The only difference was... this time your conflict was about him.
Your best friend for years. The one person in this world you trusted more than anyone else - who'd had your back countless times, just as you'd had his. And the more you thought about it, the more you considered what exactly it was that he meant to you - the more you realized those feelings had begun to shift. Subtly at first, like the slow erosion of sand as the waves reshaped the landscape over the ages.
He was still waiting for a response, you just didn't know what to say. So, you gave him a half-truth, hoping he wouldn't press you on it but knowing he probably would.
"Just thinking."
A hum vibrated low in his chest, "About what?"
You were less than a block from the hotel now and your feet were aching for the chance to relax against the soft mattress. But the sound of excited voices carrying from the massive park nearby pulled your focus. Light filtered through the trees and you could see lanterns lit along various pathways leading deeper into the midnight darkened park.
Instead of answering his question, you nodded in the direction of the voices.
"Wanna go see what's happening?"
He gave you a long, considering stare, a slight furrow between his brows the only indication of his confusion at your refusal to answer his question. Normally, you'd tell him everything. As far as you could remember, you'd only ever kept one secret from him in all your years as friends. Although, now that was two. Because you knew you couldn't risk ruining your friendship just because you couldn't keep a handle on your emotions.
The silence stretched for a moment longer before he nodded, giving you a simple, "Sure."
As the pair of you turned, venturing deeper into the park, more voices joined the ones you'd heard before - layering together in a drifting mass of excited squeals and murmured words. After just a few minutes of walking, the two of you emerged from the treelined path to find yourselves at the edge of a rather crowded pond-side clearing. Numerous little groups were scattered about, some small families, others looked to be groups of friends, and still others were couples - all sitting or standing beneath the open sky.
It wasn't until two children ran past you with enthusiastic smiles, nearly yelling about how the fireworks would be starting soon, did either of you realize that tonight was one of the many events included in the Summer Festival you'd attended yesterday.
You turned to Shinso, about to ask if he wanted to stay to watch the show, when the low thud of a firework echoed through the open air - followed quickly by a loud bang and a flash of light. Both of your eyes snapped to the sky, where a shower of multicolored sparks rained down over the pond.
Soon the fireworks began in earnest, incredible displays of blues and purples almost seeming to form into the shapes of blooming summer flowers. Bright orange and red that danced across the open sky. Every color you'd ever imagined wove effortlessly through trailing sparks and almost blinding bursts of radiant hues.
Without thinking, you instinctively leaned into Shinso's strong form beside you. His arm immediately draped across your shoulders, pulling you more fully into his side. The heat radiating off of him seeped through the leather of his jacket, warming your chilled skin and sending goosebumps along your arms and legs.
At some point, you stopped watching the brilliant explosions and turned your gaze to him - the way the light flashed across his cheekbones, the way the glittering color reflection in the violet of his eyes, the softness in his face that he only ever let you see.
As if he could feel your stare, Shinso's eyes moved to you. The softness remained, his jaw loose and his eyes almost half-lidded in relaxation. He shifted slightly, turning your shoulder just enough to tuck you firmly against his side.
The fireworks continued to thunder and flash but neither of you were watching - too lost in the way the flashing sparks reflected in each other's eyes.
His free hand drifted upward before his thumb brushed ever so gently along your cheek. The heat of his touch stole your breath and left a tingling trail behind.
Violet eyes dropped to your lips, instinctively making your tongue dart out to lick them. Had it not been for the flashing lights, you might have missed the faint reddish hue that colored the apples of his cheeks when his eyes met yours again.
The movement was subtle, natural, as he leaned toward you.
Your heart thundered in your chest, loud enough you were certain it would put the fireworks to shame.
He moved slow, giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn't, too lost in the heat of his gaze and affection of his hold.
Until a final bright burst of light plunged the area back into darkness and the cheers of the surrounding spectators pulled you both back to reality - his lips barely a breath away from your own.
The walk back to the hotel was quiet and a little awkward. Shinso couldn't stop his eyes from drifting to where you walked beside him, the dark leather of his jacket practically swallowing you with how big it was.
He couldn't get the way you'd looked at him out of his head - like you wanted him. The tips of his fingers still tingled from the touch of your skin; the ghost of your warmth lingered in the back of his mind. It had been so perfect, the moment everything he'd ever longed for.
Then reality had to return like a cold slap to the face.
Applause filled the air; groups of spectators began to rise and disperse. He'd taken a step away from you, clearing his throat.
"We should head back, it's getting late."
It was too dark to make out your expression, so maybe he imagined the hint of disappointment he heard when you replied.
"Oh, yeah... good idea."
When they finally made it to the room, you shrugged off his jacket with a quiet 'thank you,' before disappearing into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he heard the shower start and blew out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
His chest felt tight and his stomach was tied in so many knots it was a wonder he was still standing. Yet all he could think about was how you'd looked at him - how you could actually see him when no one else bothered.
By the time he finished his shower, you were curled up with your back facing his side of the bed. You were quiet, your breathing even and deep. A quiet satisfaction nestled into his too tight chest that you trusted him enough to sleep so easily.
For once it wasn't you who cuddled into him.
Rather, when Shinso eased into bed, he simply rolled toward you before looping his arm around your middle and pulling you firmly against his chest before he pressed a light kiss to the top of your head.
The soft scent of your soap seemed to almost envelop him as he drifted off. His imagination running wild with the desire to be able to hold you every night.
Unbeknownst to Shinso, you hadn't fallen asleep yet.
Friday
Shinso was gone by the time you woke up the next morning. His side of the bed was long cold when you reached over to slide your hand along the sheets. You didn't get a chance to worry or panic though, when you checked your phone to find a message from him.
Shin: Need to get some work done before tonight. Didn't want to wake you.
Text me before you come down for food and I'll get you coffee.
Butterflies rose unbidden in your stomach as you read his message. It would be a good idea to get some work things handled this morning since the only thing the two of you were required to do today was attend the rehearsal dinner this evening.
Once you'd finished getting ready, you pulled your computer from your work bag and made your way down to the hotel cafe.
Shinso was already situated at a table against a wall, his own cup of coffee within easy reach while a fresh one sat across from him.
You hadn't said a word before his eyes flicked away from the screen to meet yours. Warmth flooded your chest and you tried to ignore the resurgence of those damn butterflies.
Plopping down in the chair across from him, his gaze returned to the screen as he let out a soft, "Mornin'."
After setting up your own computer, you took a long sip from the still warm coffee he'd ordered for you - that was, of course, exactly your usual.
"Morning... and thank you for this, Shin." You lifted the cup as you said it.
He just dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement, "No problem."
For the next few hours, the two of you worked with a quiet familiarity that could only be accomplished through years of learning the other person's habits and eccentricities. Like the way Shinso would occasionally tap the blunt end of his pen against the table when he had to think carefully about how he worded a response, or the way you'd seem to almost completely space out in the middle of answering an email, only to suddenly snap back to attention as if nothing happened. Though the refreshed energy with which you typed said otherwise.
It took everything in you not to lose focus as your mind kept drifting to the way he’d held you last night. By now you were getting used to waking up in his arms. But when he’d climbed into bed and gently pulled you to him, you didn’t have the heart to reveal that you were still awake.
Then, when he’d kissed the top of your head, you thought your heart might have stopped for a moment before it began thundering anew.
Eventually the outside light shifted to that of late afternoon and the alarm you'd set on your phone chimed to tell you it was time to get ready. A soft groan drifted from your lips and you could feel Shinso's smirk before you saw it.
From where your head rested in your hands you let out a muffled, "Don't."
Which earned you a low chuckle before he responded with, "Wasn't gonna."
The rehearsal dinner was being held at an elegant restaurant not far from the hotel. While it was well within walking distance, your parents had insisted on the four of you taking a car - for which you were thankful.
There had only been an hour or so of mingling before the wedding party finished and joined the group gathered for dinner, and your feet were already miserable. The heels you'd chosen were classy and beautiful, the color matching the dark grey-blue of your dress perfectly, but they were incredibly uncomfortable - a fact you had forgotten when you packed them for the week.
Thankfully, just when you were considering whether to take them off or not, the wedding party arrived. The groomsmen came first, loud voices echoing through the previously pleasant space. They were everything you remembered Fukuda's friends to be and then some - you could already feel the dull throb of a headache building. Then came the bridal party, with saccharine smiles and narrow conniving eyes. They were every girl's worst nightmare in high school all grown-up.
After everyone found their seats and the ruckus had been brought back to a manageable level the speeches started.
You were bored, barely listening when Fukuda's father began some overly heartfelt story from your ex's childhood; which was followed closely by Muto's mother giving a speech that was laced with false emotion and over-the-top dramatics.
At one point, Shinso leaned toward, whispering quietly, “I thought the speeches were supposed to be for tomorrow? Does this mean we’ve gotta endure this all over again?”
The faint whine and teasing smirk that danced across his lips had you biting back a laugh as you swatted his arm softly.
When the maid of honor began to speak your stare must have gone blank because the feel of Shinso's hand on your leg snapped you back just in time to hear Fukuda's best man introduce himself. In the farthest corner of your mind, you vaguely remembered him. When the two of you had dated, he had been at the fringes of Fukuda's group, making you idly wonder what had changed over the last couple of years for him to suddenly be considered Fukuda's best man.
His speech started like the others giving funny anecdotes here and there about their friendship and history together. You were ready to zone out again, lose yourself in the comfort of your own head and Shinso’s hand on your thigh, when words you'd never wanted to hear clanged through your head like an off-rhythm drumbeat.
"...still remember you introducing her to us three years ago!" He laughed, loud and bright, like the words he'd just uttered weren't yet another dagger shoved into the scars of your heart. "Never thought she'd stick around this long! But look at you now! I can't believe we’re here getting ready to celebrate your wedding! Congrats guys!"
Polite applause filled the room, a few lingering chuckles interspersed amongst the clapping.
Yet you barely heard it. Your heart thundered in your chest, the rush of blood in your ears muffling everything.
You'd never asked when they started seeing each other - hadn't wanted to know.
Except now you did and it felt like the wound was being pulled apart at the seams all over again.
Three years.
Fukuda and Muto had been together for three years. Which meant that they had been seeing each other for almost the entirety of your relationship with him. The whole time. Every late night at the office, every business trip out of town, every single excuse he'd ever given you came crashing down as understanding gripped your chest.
He'd never wanted you. Never actually meant the sweet words he'd whisper in soft moments. It was all an act. To appease your families? To quell his own curiosity? You weren't sure you wanted to know that either.
Then you made the mistake of looking up.
Only to meet the smug smirk of Fukuda as he watched you rapt amusement – slowly clapping with the rest of those in attendance.
Shinso never claimed to be a genius. But even he could do simple math. And the way you locked up beside him during the best man's speech had every alarm bell in his head ringing on high alert.
He turned to you, ready to ask what was wrong, what you needed; only to find your face a careful mask of neutrality. Had he not known you for so long, not spent years learning your expressions and moods, he would have missed the utter devastation that raged in your eyes. He might have missed the way your breathing paused for just a moment, only to pick up a little faster than it had before.
Replaying every word from the speech, he broke it down piece by piece as he tried to pinpoint exactly what triggered this reaction.
In the same moment understanding flooded his mind, from the corner of his eye, he saw the flash of fury that morphed your father’s expression into one of cold hatred.
Their eyes locked, your father's gaze asking one question, had he known?
Shinso shook his head once, purple hair shifting against the nape of his neck.
Your mother caught the exchange, a confused scowl creasing her brow. Hitoshi watched her lean toward your father, her voice silent as she whispered in his ear.
He didn't need to see her reaction, it would be the same as his, as your fathers. The blood in his veins screamed with the desire to act – to do something, anything to ease the pain you were clearly trying desperately to bury.
You were still frozen beside him, the quick shallow breaths that escaped you the only indication of your inner turmoil.
Leaning toward you, Hitoshi kept his voice low, only loud enough for you to hear, "Fudō."
The nickname was at least enough to draw your attention back to him and out of your head.
"Do you want to go?" He fought to control the anger in his voice, the effort leaving his throat feeling a little raw.
You swallowed hard, your throat bobbing with the movement.
"I'm okay, Shin," the smile you gave him was faint and didn't reach your eyes. He could see the way the corners of your mouth trembled slightly. "Just been a long week is all. I'm tired."
Violet eyes locked with yours and he watched as the realization that he knew dawned on you. Your mouth pressed into a thin shaky line.
Applause flooded the room again as Fukuda and Muto finished giving their own thanks to those that had traveled to attend. Most of the room rose to their feet in some form of false ovation.
Shinso took the opportunity to snatch your things from your chair and quietly guide you out of the room. Anger simmered low in his chest, begging for an outlet.
As soon as the banquet room doors shut behind them, you deflated. Your shoulders fell and curled in on themselves, your back hunched slightly as if trying to hold the pieces together, and the wobbly shake of your legs was enough for him to give up trying to guide you. Instead, he simply scooped you up, one arm behind your back while the other cradled you under the knees.
He'd just made it to the doors, intent on getting you back to the hotel when someone called his name. A quick glance over his shoulder showed your father hurrying down the hall they'd just come from. His face remained that mask of cold anger, but his eyes were creased with worry.
"I'm taking her back to the hotel," Shinso's tone left no room for argument.
Your father nodded, "Good. I've already called our driver. He'll be here in a moment."
The sound of your father’s voice seemed to snap you out of the frozen shock you'd been stuck in.
You pushed gently against Shinso's chest, silently asking to be put down. He hesitated for only a second before gently returning you to the ground - reluctant to part with your warmth and unsure of how steady you'd be on your feet considering you nearly collapsed just moments ago.
As soon as you were standing on your own, Shinso took a step back when your father rushed forward. He watched as your father gripped your shoulders firmly, stooping to look in your eyes. The anger that had been lining his features melted completely when he took in whatever expression was on your face.
"Are you alright, sweetheart?"
Hitoshi looked on as you relaxed under your father’s grip.
With a gentle nod, you murmured a soft, "I'm alright. Promise."
The older man pulled you into a tight hug. Shinso noticed the deep breath you took, noticed the way your shoulders shook on the exhale.
Now that the initial shock of the situation was wearing off, the anger in his chest began to rise. He wasn't angry with you, not really. But he didn't understand why you hadn't told him, hadn't told anyone the real reason the two of you broke up, and he could see the same questions reflected in your father’s eyes as he held you.
The door to the hotel room closed softly behind you. Shinso hadn't said anything the entire ride back and his silence had your stomach twisting into knots. You knew he was angry; you could see it in the set of his jaw.
So instead of waiting for a lecture or an argument, you decided to apologize first.
"Shin," his gaze snapped to you the moment his name left your lips. The fire in his eyes set your heart racing, "I'm... I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you. I’m sorry I never told you."
He let out a deep sigh, running one hand through his hair like it was the only thing keeping him grounded in the moment.
"Why? Why didn't you tell anyone?" His tone wasn't accusatory; it was confused and a little hurt - that almost made it worse. "You didn't even tell your parents. Did you not trust them?"
He paused before meeting your eyes again.
"Did you not trust me?"
The question came out as a heartbroken whisper that made your chest hurt.
"No! No, Shin that wasn't it. I trust you more than anyone." You took a step toward him, "Fukuda asked me not to. Begged me, really."
He shook his head in disbelief, "So you just let the guy who cheated on you, who broke your heart, dictate what you told people??"
"There's more to it than that."
"Then please explain. Cuz from how I see it, you let the bastard that hurt you get away with it. And that's not the you I know."
A long breath left your chest feeling empty and painful. Turning around, you moved to the bed, sitting down before you carefully pulled your shoes off - gently massaging your sore feet as you did.
"Fukuda is an only child," from your peripherals you saw Shinso sit down on the small couch as he listened. "So, he’s set to inherit everything when his grandmother passes. Our families have been close for generations, and his mistake could have caused an irreparable rift between them."
A scoff pulled your eyes away from where they'd been focused on the carpeted floor. A reluctant half-smile tugged at your lips from his reaction.
"Growing up, it was always just assumed that the two of us would end up together. So, when he finally asked me out after college, it just felt like the natural next step." Hurt flared in your chest as you remembered how happy you'd been at the time, only to have it all come crashing down. "When I found out he was cheating, it hurt… more than anything before. And when I confronted him, he just laughed."
Your eyes fell back to the spot on the carpet you'd been fixed on earlier.
"He told me it was my fault. That I was too focused on my career to be a good partner, that no one would ever be interested in someone who’d rather work than settle down." A hollow laugh came out more like a sad breath, "And it was embarrassing. To know that I'm somehow not enough and too much at the same time. That's why I didn't tell you, Shin... I was embarrassed and afraid."
There was a beat of silence.
"Afraid of what?"
His voice was closer than you were expecting. Your head snapped up to meet the amethyst eyes boring into you.
As much as you wanted to look away, you couldn’t seem to move your gaze from his, "What if you realized the same thing he did...? What if you left too?"
The words were barely more than a whisper, laced with heartbreak and vulnerability.
Something flashed across his face too fast for you to identify. Finally, your eyes dropped again, heat crept up the back of your neck as the knots in your stomach tightened now that the truth was out in the open. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to ignore the way your heart thrummed an erratic beat in your chest and focus on breathing.
"Fudō."
The petname only made your heart beat faster. You're not sure when exactly you fell for your best friend, but you were terrified you'd just ruined it all. Hitoshi was the most important person in your life. You don’t know what you’d do if he left too.
"Hey, look at me." The order was accompanied by a gentle touch under your chin, tipping your head back.
Your eyes flew open in shock, only to find Shinso crouched in front of you. His face was serious, a faint frown pulling the corners of his mouth downward. There was such a fierce intensity in his gaze that the racing of your heart stuttered causing your breath to catch.
His eyes dropped to your lips before they met yours again, "I'm not going anywhere. Got it?"
You nodded as much as you could with the hand still holding your chin up.
"Whatever that fucker made you believe, whatever awful shit he put in your head is wrong. You're worth every bit of time and effort he never gave you. You are not too much, you are exactly enough and he wasn't worth your time. He didn't deserve you."
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes from the sincerity of his declaration - as one slipped free, trailing slowly down the side of your face, his other hand reached up to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed softly against your skin, catching the tear as he wiped away its lingering trail.
"Hitoshi..." You weren't sure what you wanted to say, only that his name slipped from your mouth before you even realized you said it.
His eyes dropped to your lips again, this time lingering just a little longer than before. When his amethyst gaze slowly drifted back up to meet yours, there was a simmering heat that loosened the knots in your stomach, only to immediately be replaced with a flutter of desire you hadn't expected.
Unconsciously, your hands lifted to grip the front of his shirt. Your fingers twisting gently into the fabric in an effort to steady yourself... or maybe pull him closer.
His lips met yours with a tenderness that had you melting beneath him. The hand that had been tilting your chin moved to mirror the other, his strong fingers now holding your face in something remarkably close to reverence.
When he pulled away, he shifted just enough to rest his forehead against yours.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."
You let out a breathless laugh, the heat of it ghosting across his lips.
When your mouths met again, it wasn't the same sweet longing that had softened the first one. He kissed you with a hunger, a need, that stirred a desire of your own, sending heat to settle low in your belly.
Your fingers still gripped his shirt, which meant that you felt it immediately when he shifted, rising from his crouched position. His lips never left yours as he guided you to lay back against the soft mattress the two of you had been sharing for the past few days.
A soft whimper escaped when his tongue trailed along the seam of your lips, before pushing in to press against your own. Your dress shifted upward to accommodate where he was now positioned between your legs, his chest almost flush against your own - close enough you could feel the way the erratic beat of his heart matched your own.
His kisses seemed almost like he wanted to devour you, swallowing down every little sound you let out before he finally broke away to give you both a chance to breathe.
Soft lips pressed against your cheek, the tip of your nose and your forehead before traveling down along your jaw and neck, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Shin," you gasped when he bit the spot where your neck and shoulder met, only to kiss the hurt immediately after.
He leaned back, half-lidded eyes wandered across what you were sure was a rather disheveled sight.
"Beautiful," the word left him like a prayer.
Need flared in your chest, as you looked up to where he stood between your legs. His tie was loose, the top two buttons of his dress shirt open to expose a peak of the strong muscle beneath. A light flush colored his cheeks, almost matching the faint tint of your lip gloss shining delicately where it smeared from your kisses.
Sitting up, you let your hands press against his firm abs, dragging upward until you reached the knot of his tie. With deft fingers you pulled it free, tossing it loosely in the direction of the dresser before returning to slowly unfasten the buttons of his shirt. You looked up, locking eyes with him as you did, watching the way his pupils expanded the lower you went, until you pulled the hem of his shirt free from where it had been tucked into his slacks.
The fabric fell loose around his torso, leaving his now bare chest clear for you to slowly trail your hands upward - feeling every ridge and coil of firm muscle as you went.
As soon as your hands found his shoulders and tugged him down, whatever restraint he'd been holding snapped. A groan that was closer to a growl rumbled through his chest as his strong hands found your waist and nearly threw you to the center of the bed.
Faster than you expected he was above you, his shirt gone - tossed somewhere in the same direction as his tie.
His lips met yours in a flurry of teeth and tongue that only further fanned the flames of desire burning low in your belly and dampening your core. Without breaking away, he lifted you up just enough to run a hand along your back - seizing the zipper of your dress and pulling it down. A low whimper fell from your lips that he eagerly captured with his own.
Faster and with more ease than you'd ever experienced before, your dress soon joined his shirt somewhere on the floor.
He paused above you, violet eyes drinking in every inch of exposed skin. He tracked the way your chest rose and fell with quick breaths, the way your legs squirmed slightly as a sudden wave of self-consciousness overtook you under his hungry gaze.
Leaning forward he captured your mouth again. The movement was less hurried this time, like he was trying to see what sounds he could draw from you as his bare chest lowered to rest against yours. Not enough to feel trapped, but enough to feel the pressure and weight of him. His hands danced along your exposed skin, raising goosebumps in their wake as his finger roamed and touched – like he was trying to memorize every inch of you by feel alone.
A gasp left you when his hips rolled once in a testing, almost teasing manner, grinding against your clothed and dripping clit in a way that sent sparks racing up your spine. Another roll, this time more sure, pressed the hard length of him firmly against you.
"F-fuck," he broke away from your lips, his arms trembling slightly with restraint as he held himself above you.
You reached for his belt, tugging at the leather before one of his big hands wrapped around your wrists, stopping the movement.
Worry made your throat tighten, had you misread him? Had you overstepped and now he was going to stop before he did something he’d regret?
Before your thoughts could spiral any further, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. Your eyes flicked up to meet his. The heat and lust they held was enough to take your breath away.
"Are you sure?" His voice was wrecked, desire and restraint adding a rasp to his already sultry tone. "We can stop if you want. I'm not gonna take advantage just because you're hurting."
The worry and genuine care in his voice was enough to squash any lingering doubts in your mind.
"You're all I want, Shin." You watched as a shiver raced through him at the use of the petname. "All I've wanted for a while... I just didn't want to mess this up."
The words left you in a whisper, your mind more clear than it had been in a long time.
He swallowed hard, your eyes dropped to watch his throat bob with the action. When you looked up again his expression had shifted. The desire was still there, still warring with lust; but now a fond tenderness softened his sharper features.
He released his grip on your wrist, moving his hand to gently push a bit of hair that had fallen into your face out of the way.
"You're all I've been able to think about for years," he murmured. "Every time I tried to convince myself to let you go I couldn't. You're everything, Fudō."
Your lips met in a gentle kiss that quickly morphed into a burning dance of tongues that left your mind a little foggy with lust.
Soon the rest of your clothes, and his, found new homes across the room, leaving the two of you bare before the other.
You couldn't stop your eyes as they roamed, taking in every dip of muscle, every silvered scar that shone as proof of his dedication. Until they fell lower and widened slightly at the heavy bobbing weight hanging between his legs. You'd felt his size earlier, but seeing it now made your mouth water while simultaneously filling you with nerves.
A low chuckle echoed from his chest, pulling your gaze back to his face - a smug smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth.
He leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your lips before trailing more along your jaw to your ear where he gently bit. The feel of his teeth sent a wave of need straight to your core and you could feel your own slick begin to drip and cool despite the heated air. He kept his mouth moving, interspersing kisses and bites across your neck and shoulders.
Just as you opened your mouth to beg for more, the feeling of a rough thumb against your clit made you gasp.
Two fingers trailed through your slick folds pulling another whimper of need from your lips.
"All this for me?"
He didn't give you a chance to respond before he was pushing two fingers into your soaked cunt.
A loud moan ripped from your chest at the stretch of the thick digits. Slowly he began thrusting them in and out, spreading and scissoring them in just the right way to hit every sensitive spot inside you.
Your hands flew to the sides, gripping at the sheets beneath you in a desperate attempt to ground yourself as pleasure burrowed deeper.
A choked gasp pulled another smirk from him when his fingers hit that perfect spot deep inside.
"Right there, Fudō?"
"Y-yes. Shin please," desperation laced your tone. You were so close, no one had ever made you cum this fast.
"Shh, no need to beg, love. I'll take care of you."
With a few more careful swirls of his thumb against your clit and sharp thrusts of his fingers against that sensitive spot, your back arched off the bed as pleasure crashed through you like a wave. Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp, your eyes fluttering shut, as he kept working those skilled fingers, dragging your pleasure out for as long as possible.
"Fuck, that's it. Keep cumming for me, love."
Just when it was becoming too much and a soft whimper left your lips his movements stopped before he slowly withdrew his fingers from your still occasionally spasming pussy. The sudden feeling of emptiness left you feeling hollow and wanting more – needing more.
You blinked up in time to see him pull the fingers that had been inside you from his mouth, heavy-lidded eyes locked on you.
"Think you can go again, love?" His voice was thick with desire, but there was a softness to it too. You knew that if you said no, he wouldn't question it. There would be no pushback or argument - he'd simply accept it and take care of you.
And that only made you want him more.
"Hitoshi," the fog of lust in his eyes lifted as you said his name. "I want you."
Just as fast as the haze had cleared, it came back with a roaring vengeance. Your eyes dropped to where his heavy hand reached down to grip his thick cock, smearing the leaking precum down the shaft as he bit back a groan.
You moaned when he dragged the weeping tip along your still dripping folds - every nudge of the head against your clit setting fireworks off in your mind.
"Last chance, love," his voice was strained and tight.
You didn't respond. Instead, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. A moan left his kiss swollen lips when you did, his eyes narrowing dangerously on you when you arched a brow with a playful turn of your lips.
The only warning you got was when he locked eyes with you, pulling your attention away from where he'd been teasing you.
"Big stretch, baby."
The blunt head of his cock pushed forward in one smooth motion until he was fully seated inside you. The stretch of him burned in the best way, pulling a strangled moan from you when you felt the tip barely kiss your cervix.
Your legs were still locked around his waist, holding him close while your pussy fluttered around him, eliciting another low groan from him.
After giving you a moment to adjust, he finally shifted, "Gonna move now."
As he drew his heavy cock back your hands shot to his back, fingers gripping the firm muscle of his shoulders in a desperate attempt to stay present in the moment. A sharp thrust forward had your nails digging in, drawing a hiss from the purple-haired hero on top of you.
"Damn, you're so tight..."
The next few thrusts were testing and careful until he was sure you could take it. Then it was like the floodgates had been opened. Quick heavy thrusts buried him deep, letting you feel every vein and ridge.
His head fell forward against your shoulder, hot breath dancing across the skin of your chest and raising goosebumps that only made you more sensitive to the brutal pounding of his cock into your tight heat.
"God, you have no idea how long I've wanted this. Wanted you," the words were rough and choppy, coming out in uneven breaths with every harsh thrust of his hips.
A moan left your lips that he quickly swallowed down with a kiss.
"You're all I've been able to imagine for so long, love."
Every word he spoke, every rough movement of his hips as his cock dragged along the sensitive walls of your cunt pushed you closer to the edge. Unconscious spasms rolled through your soaked pussy, pulling another moan from the man above you. His fingers gripped your hips with enough pressure you’re certain there will be bruises.
"Gettin' close," he growled out, the sound vibrating through his chest and into you.
You could feel it, the way his length jumped and twitched almost in sync with the pulses racing through your pussy.
"Me too, Shin. Please, feels so good. Don't stop."
His pace sped up, egged on by your begging and the drag of your nails across his back.
You were so close, the coil in your belly ready to snap at any moment. The buildup alone was enough to take your breath away. But with him, with the person you trusted most, you weren't sure you were ready for the pleasure he was drawing from you.
"Fuck, Fudō. I gotta pull out. Gonna cum."
Your legs tightened instinctively around him, "No! Please. Wanna feel you..."
A shudder ran through him at your pleading. His pace faltered, hips moving in jerky uncoordinated thrusts that made him hit that sweet spot deep inside over and over.
Your vision went white as the coil he'd been winding tighter and tighter finally snapped. Tremors of pleasure raced through your body, locking your legs around his hips as you pulled him down, crashing your mouth into his.
He moaned against your lips as your cunt spasmed around him, pulsing hard against his sensitive shaft.
You felt him jerk once, twice, a third time before his hips slammed into yours pushing him as deep as he could go. His cock jumped and pulsed, a warm heat filling you in tandem with the slowing waves of your own orgasm. The walls of your pussy feeling as if they were trying to pull his very soul from his body.
With a shuddered gasp, Shinso nearly collapsed on top of you, catching himself with shaky arms on either side of your head so he didn’t crush you. Soft lips peppered gentle kisses across your chest and neck as the two of you slowly came down from your highs.
Eventually, your breathing slowed along with your heart. You could feel the mix of you both slowly dripping from where his softening dick was still nestled inside you. Pushing gently against his chest, Shinso seemed to snap out of wherever his mind had wandered.
"Need to clean up, Shin."
He let out a tired, breathless laugh, "Stay here. I'll take care of you."
Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before pulling out, drawing a groan from both of you. Less than a minute later he returned from the bathroom with a warm cloth, gently wiping down your sore center with a tenderness you'd never seen from him.
When he returned to the room after taking care of you and himself, he tucked you both under the covers, pulling you into his chest. You burrowed deeper into his hold, breathing in the smell of him as his arms held you a little tighter.
"Gotta run to the pharmacy in the morning," his voice was tired but warm.
"Mmm, what for?" You asked through a yawn that made him chuckle.
"Finished inside ya, love. Don't think either of us are ready for kids right now."
You smiled against his chest, "I'm on birth control, Shin. We're good."
Despite the hum he let out, you could hear the way his heart stuttered before returning to its usual pace. The low rhythm combined with the slow trailing of his fingers along your skin quickly lulled you into the gentle embrace of sleep.
Saturday
The morning of the wedding started with a clap of thunder so loud you shot up in bed with a start. Beside you, Shinso let out a low groan, his hand moving to rub sleep from his eyes before he cracked them open to look at you through the foggy haze of sleep. Rain lashed against the window as another gust of wind pushed the heavy drops.
"What time is it?" Shinso's voice was heavy with sleep, the deep rumble seeming to almost reverberate through the mattress.
Now that the initial shock of the crash had worn off, you laid back down, glancing at the clock on the bedside table as you did.
"Early, just after seven."
He groaned, rolling onto his side before he looped his arm around you to pull your back into his chest.
You let out a soft laugh as he did. The heat of him radiated through the thin material of your sleep shirt, further calmed the rapid beat of your heart. As soon as you relaxed into his hold, he tucked his head into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing against the soft skin there.
Another flash of lightning was followed almost immediately by a rumble of thunder so loud it shook the building.
You wiggled deeper into his hold, pressing yourself firmly against him as your eyes fluttered shut in an attempt to go back to sleep. The breath caught in your chest when his hand moved to entangle his fingers with yours. Rough callouses scratched pleasantly against the smooth skin of your hand as they came to rest against your stomach.
He let out a long sigh, the heavy weight of him at your back relaxing further into the mattress now that he'd found a comfortable position.
The storm continued to rage outside, thunder crashing every minute or less, preventing any attempt at returning to sleep... at least for you. Behind you, Shinso had somehow managed to almost immediately return to the land of dreams, the deadweight of his arm a comforting touch as your mind finally began to process all that had happened.
Shifting your weight to adjust a painful catch in your side, the dull throb between your legs was a stark reminder of the night before.
Images immediately flashed through your mind of what had led to you and your best friend finally confessing to one another. Every quiet moment, every gentle touch, every too long look over the last few years finally clicked into place in your mind. The culmination of which had led to him helping you escape that awful dinner where your closest kept secret was revealed.
You knew it wasn't the end of the world. In fact, very few people outside of Hitoshi and your parents - if any - would be conscious enough to have done the math and realized what the best man had so casually admitted.
Yet the weight that you had been carrying ever since the breakup had finally lifted. You didn't have to lie or omit just enough of the truth to avoid prying questions. He had unknowingly freed you from a burden you hadn't realized cost you so much. For the first time in years, it felt like you could actually breathe.
As you did just that, Hitoshi's hold around your middle tightened in his sleep - unconsciously pulling you closer.
A soft smile graced your lips before your heavy lids finally closed again.
The ceremony had been... okay. Too over the top, too glamorous for Shinso to actually enjoy any of it. He'd felt out of place the moment he stepped through the doors of the venue. These people were not his people - in a way, they weren't yours either. Not anymore anyway.
After the storm broke the two of them had been woken to a quiet knock at the door to their room.
Considering Shinso was only wearing the boxers he'd put on at some point in the night, you'd been the one to answer the door.
Quiet murmurs reached him past the partition that blocked the door from the bed, the voice of an older woman the only thing he could make out aside from your own. When you returned to the room, he sat up, holding his arms out in an invitation.
He had to ignore the little thrill that went through him when you cuddled up against his chest without a second thought.
It was your mother who'd been at the door. They were hoping to have a chance to talk before the events of the day, which meant the two of them would need to get up soon if they wanted to have time for breakfast before getting ready.
Luckily the meal and conversation went well. Your parents apologized for not realizing something more had happened between you and Fukuda. Which they quickly followed up with letting you know that you absolutely did not have to attend the wedding or reception if you didn't want to.
You'd turned to look at him then, your eyes wide with a question. He'd just shrugged and rested his hand against your thigh under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"It's your choice."
After some consideration, you'd decided you still wanted to attend. Not for your ex and his soon-to-be wife, but for yourself and those that you were still close to - namely, Fukuda's grandmother.
Who, Shinso observed, had been noticeably absent from the wedding itself.
He was sitting at a table in the reception hall, music thrummed through the air - not loud enough to be intrusive, but enough to get people up and enjoying themselves. You'd vanished a little while ago, telling him you wanted to catch up with some friends you hadn't had a chance to see yet. Of course that wasn't an issue, you were your own person and could make your own decisions.
Though, that hadn’t stopped him from admiring the way your dress hung beautifully off your hips. The rich midnight blue accentuated your skin tone and made the light shining in your eyes that much brighter. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you from the moment you’d let the soft fabric cascade down around your curves. At one point you’d even swatted him away when he got a little too handsy right before you were supposed to leave the hotel.
Now though, sitting at the table alone, boredom was beginning to set in.
His gaze trailed lazily around the room hoping to catch you somewhere amongst the crowd when a gentle tug at the sleeve of his shirt drew his attention away from the rest of the venue.
Standing beside him, in a tiny, poofy lilac dress, was a little girl who couldn't have been older than six or seven. Her hair was pulled into two little pigtails that were tied off with matching lilac bows and she was looking up at him with wide, almost star-struck eyes.
"Are you Hero Nighthide?" Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear her over the humming bass. But the moment his brain registered the fact that she'd called him by his heroname, it brought a small pleased smile to his face.
"Mhm, yes I am. And who are you?" He leaned forward in his chair, giving her his undivided attention.
Her little mouth dropped open in shock, eyes somehow growing even wider as she looked up at him.
"I'm Hino Kinami," she whispered, voice full of awe.
He was about to respond when she spoke again.
"You're my favorite hero!" The words left her in a quiet reverence that warmed him to his bones.
Most of his work was undercover, behind the scenes dirty work that other heroes either couldn't or wouldn't do. Thanks to his Quirk, those missions were something he almost always undertook. It wasn't that they were all secret or off the books, though a few were. It was more that it just wasn't as exciting as heroes like Dynamight or Shoto.
They were his friends and former classmates, but they couldn't do the things he could. Just as he couldn't do what they did. It was why he wasn't on the charts; his work was too quiet, too similar to Eraserhead.
The fact that this child knew him and admired him to this degree, was something he never thought he'd experience.
Before he could continue down the winding path of his mind, another tug at his sleeve pulled him back to the present.
"Mr. Nighthide, will you please dance with me?"
Shinso melted.
You looked up from your conversation with a couple of friends you hadn't seen in a while, only to feel your heart stop before it immediately kicked back up at a frenzied pace. The voices of your friends fell to the background, no more than a dull hum at the back of your mind.
Across the room, under the shifting light of the dance floor, Shinso had a little girl balanced carefully on the tops of his boots. Her little hands gripped his tightly as a wide gap-toothed smile lit her face with pure joy. The purple-haired hero leaned down to listen to something she said before you could see a soft grin spread across his lips.
The voice of your companions still droned on in the background when he glanced up and caught your watchful eye.
He flashed you a rueful smile, the sharp glint in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine.
You're sure you would have stayed staring at each other forever, had a sudden loud voice not pulled your attention to someone moving behind you.
"What do you mean she's not paying?!"
An older man you recognized as Fukuda's father pushed his way through the crowded room, his voice too loud in the enclosed space.
"What does that even mean? 'She can do math.' WHAT math?"
His face paled as he froze mid-step. Almost unconsciously, his eyes flicked to where you stood, meeting your own before immediately looking away as his cheeks darkened. He didn't speak again before walking deeper through the crowd, and when he did, his voice was low enough you couldn't make it out when he finally disappeared.
You looked back to see Shinso watching you, a question written all over his face, 'the hell?'
With a shrug you gave him a smile that had a flush rushing to his face before you returned to your friends, slipping back into the conversation as if nothing had happened.
Warmth thrummed through your veins, the echo of the love you felt from the person who'd been beside you the longest. You'd never trusted anyone as much as you trusted Shinso... and now you wouldn't ever have to.
Kinami-kun had finally wandered off to find her parents, though Shinso had kept a close eye to make sure she actually made it. It was an unexpected turn of events, but he wouldn't complain about having the chance to meet his 'biggest fan.'
His mind kept replaying the way you'd looked at him from across the room - like no one else in the world existed except for him.
How many nights had he lain awake wishing for exactly that? Too many to count.
But now you were his, and he was yours. And unless you told him to get lost, he had no intention of leaving your side.
He was still lost in thought, his eyes naturally drifting to where you had your head tipped back in a delighted laugh. Humor and joy shone brightly in your eyes, warming even the darkest places of his soul - when he felt a presence approach and stand beside where he sat lounging at the table.
A glance to his side revealed the elderly form of Fukuda's grandmother, who had once again sought him out despite the busy event.
Clearing his throat, he said the only thing he could think of, "It was a pretty wedding."
He winced internally at the half-hearted compliment but hoped she wouldn't take it as an offense.
She scoffed, her eyes narrowing on someone across the room.
Following her gaze, he blinked with a startled realization that she was glaring at Fukuda and his new bride. Glancing back at the older woman, her jaw was set in a tight line, the muscles ticked beneath the skin as if she were chewing her words before speaking again.
When her eyes returned to Shinso, they softened immediately, "Don't forget what I told you."
He never could, her words had given him the confidence to actually step up and take care of you the way you deserved.
A gentle, withered hand rested against his shoulder for a brief moment, "And never stop looking at her like that."
His eyes immediately jumped to you on the other side of the dance floor. He felt his face soften before he could even acknowledge it. But when he turned his head to respond to her, she was gone.
A little while later, after you'd returned briefly for a drink of water and a kiss, Shinso was standing not far from the bar when little Hino found him again - this time dragging her parents with her. The conversation flowed easily, they apologized for their daughter's enthusiasm, but he just waved it off.
Kinami-kun was holding onto his leg when his gaze drifted back to where you were standing, deep in conversation with Fukuda's grandmother. He carefully watched the play of emotion across your face when a tug at his pant leg brought his attention back to the little girl still clinging there.
"Who is she?" Her voice was still quiet, despite her clear comfort in his presence.
He looked up again, a small loving smile turned the corners of his mouth up before he answered.
Synopsis: When you unexpectedly run into your ex during a night out with your friends, it just added to your already crappy day. Then his new fiance reminded you of their upcoming nuptials, questioning whether you'd be bringing a plus one... Fortunately your best friend was there to save you.
Tags: ProHero!Shinso x F!Reader, friends to lovers, toxic ex, mentions of cheating, fake dating
W/C: 2,879
More tags to come in the actual fic. Should be posted next week! ALSO! This fic WILL be longer than the Fake Dating Shoto fic I did... I got a little carried away 😅 A/N at the end
Masterlist
It was supposed to be a fun night, a chance to let loose and relax after the hell that this week had been. Just a few friends gathering at the group's favorite bar to commiserate and drown their stress in booze and good company. The atmosphere was warm; the air hummed with pleasant conversation as a few stray words occasionally drifted to you before dissipating faster than you could truly comprehend them.
For the most part it was doing what you had hoped - distracting you from the stress of work and the awful conversation you'd had with your mother no less than an hour before meeting everyone here.
The day had been more stressful than you'd expected. Luminous Shroud, a Pro Hero who was slowly regaining the strength he needed to return to the field after a particularly nasty battle with a villain, had hired you as a Quirk Conditioning Specialist at the advice of his doctors. Now that he had fully recovered from his physical injuries, it was time to start retraining and strengthening his Quirk. That is where you came in.
As a Quirk Conditioning Specialist, you function similarly to a sports therapist, only instead of focusing solely on the physical body, you primarily concentrate on an individual's Quirk and their control over it. It was a rewarding career that paid well and allowed you the opportunity to use your Quirk almost as much as a Pro without actually having to go through the same training and certification process.
Not that you couldn't have gone Pro with your Quirk... as your mother so loved to remind you.
Luminous Shroud's control was rapidly returning to what it had been before their injuries, and unfortunately for you, he got cocky. You'd been in the middle of a training exercise with him, the practice field was littered with quickly moving targets so as to help sharpen their aim and broaden their battlefield awareness.
As always, you were off to the side, well out of the way as you observed - taking note of his stance and the subtle tremble in the tips of his fingers as he held concentration over his Quirk. A frown pulled the corners of your mouth downward when you noticed him trying to pull more than two beams of energy from his Quirks origination point. You'd explained to him before beginning to only utilize two since his control was still unstable beyond that.
"Luminous, only two, we talked about this." You tried to keep your voice steady and not let the irritation show, but it was a common problem with him and many other heroes. They always tried to push for more before their bodies were ready.
"It'll be fine!" An arrogant smirk danced across his lips as he ignored you, his attention focused on the targets in front of him.
Taking a step forward, you were intent on pointing out the extra strain he was putting on himself, when the illusory shadow of his Quirk rippled.
Three additional beams of energy rocketed outward in random directions, slicing through the air and cutting deep into the terrain below.
With little time to react, you did the only thing you could do. Activating your Quirk, the beam directed at you slammed into your outstretched palm - the heat of it searing into your hand and forearm.
You lifted your other arm at the same time, aiming for one of the hills partway across the battlefield. The familiar tingle of your Quirk surged through you in the heartbeat between the hit and your subsequent redirect.
A burst of light shot forward out of your palm and slammed into the terrain, fracturing stone as smoke drifted upwards from the place of impact.
Less than two seconds had passed between his Quirks fluctuation and now. Yet in that time, he'd managed to cause significant damage to the training grounds structure and burn the hell out of your arm.
"Hey! You still with us?" Tokage Setsuna was gently shaking your shoulder, pulling you back to the present.
"Ah, yeah, sorry. Got distracted thinking about work," you gave her an apologetic smile as you realized most of the others at the table were watching you with a mix of worry and amusement.
Fortunately, the agency's medics had been able to heal most of the burns, but there were still a few that would take some time to fully heal and may even scar. For his part, Luminous Shroud felt terrible, apologizing over and over for hurting you - but you weren't ready to forgive him yet. If he'd just listened instead of thinking he knew better, it wouldn't have happened.
"I bet! He's seriously lucky you reacted so fast or it could have been so much worse!"
Kaminari was a more recent addition to the friend group, though his bubbly personality and genuine kind heart fit right in - despite the rocky start when you had all been students.
A calloused hand reached over from your other side, lifting your bandaged arm with a look of deep concentration.
"Ya know, I could probably make you some kind of shield!" Hatsume's hair was still pulled back in her signature pink ponytail, though tonight she'd chosen to leave her goggles at the office... for once. "It wouldn't be that hard, actually! All I'd really need to do is inst-"
"That's alright, Mei!" You cut her off before she could get too carried away. "I'm usually fine, just this time caught me a bit off guard."
A scoff from the other side of the table drew your attention to the other blond, sitting beside Shinso.
Monoma had simultaneously changed so much and so little since school. He would always be the same over-confident brat he was back then, but his edges had softened some. When he was out with friends like tonight, he was softer, still fiercely loyal to those he cared about but more willing to listen than he had been before the war.
"Still don't know why you waste your time on heroes that can't break the Top 100."
You laughed at the disdain in his voice, "Because it pays the bills, Neito. We can't all be big bad pros like you guys."
Beside you, Hatsume laughed loudly, falling against your shoulder as she did. A grin took over your expression as the rest of the table chuckled along. Yeah, this is exactly what you needed tonight.
Conversation continued to flow easily, bouncing from one topic to the next. Occasionally someone would head to the bar for another drink, leaving the table just a touch quieter than before.
You'd just finished chuckling at a story Monoma was telling about a case he and Shinso had worked on together, when you reached for your glass only to find it empty. There was a pleasant warmth in your chest from the alcohol - not enough to hinder your thoughts or judgement, just enough to help you relax.
After making your way to the bar, you were leaning against the counter sipping on a water while you waited for the bartender to finish your drink when a familiar voice cut through the din.
A grimace washed across your face before you schooled your expression back into calm indifference and turned around.
Standing proudly in the space behind you, was Fukuda Shinji, your ex-boyfriend.
He looked the same as the last time you'd seen him, only maybe a little more pleased with himself. His hair was styled into careful disarray, dark eyes looked out at the world with a cold calculation you'd once convinced yourself meant he cared enough to pay attention. Shinji had always been fairly lean and well-built, not the same as the Heroes you worked with every day, but still enough to tell he took care of himself.
One of those strong arms was draped around the shoulders of the woman beside him, Muto Fumiko.
Of course they had to be here tonight. Hearing about it from your mother earlier clearly hadn't caused you enough grief to make the universe happy.
"Well well, didn't expect to see you here," his voice was smooth, carrying just enough sharpness to let you know he was deeply pleased he would have the chance to make you uncomfortable.
"Fukuda," you looked at the woman beside him, clenching your jaw before addressing her. "Muto."
"What, that's all you've got to say? Surely you would have received the invitation by now?"
Gods above you wanted to punch him.
Just as you opened your mouth to respond, a deeper voice cut in, immediately settling some of the anxiety that had begun to flood your system.
"There a problem?"
Indigo hair fell nearly to his shoulders, the messy strands still managing to look attractive despite his clear disdain for keeping up appearances. A frown pulled at the corners of Shinso’s mouth as he came to stand beside you, violet eyes giving you an assessing once-over before he returned his gaze to your ex and his fiancé.
"Of course not! I'm just catching up with an old friend," Fukuda narrowed his eyes slightly at the new arrival. You could already see his mind working to figure out who this was.
Before the tension could get worse, you spoke up.
"Yes, Fukuda. I spoke with my mother today. Rather last minute don't you think?" Letting the ice you could feel in your bones color your tone, you felt Shinso look at you - though you didn't dare look away from the pair in front of you.
It was Muto who inserted herself this time, a saccharine smile twisting her lips, "Oh I don't think so. A month should be plenty of time... I'm sure you and your partner will have no problem getting the time off work."
Nausea threatened to overwhelm you as her eyes seemed to pierce straight through you.
"Unless of course, you don't have anyone to bring?" Her smile turned taunting, the sickly sweetness of her voice morphing into something arrogant and mocking.
You never had a chance to answer.
Suddenly there was a heavy weight along your shoulders as an arm wrapped around you, tugging you into the firm side of the purple-haired man beside you.
"'Course she's got someone to bring."
You'd caught his eye the first day of class - smart, quick-witted, and unafraid. He found you utterly fascinating and that hadn't changed in all the years since. Even when the nature of his Quirk was revealed you didn't bat an eye, grinning with unashamed pride when he proclaimed he would become a hero.
It didn't take long after that to become fast friends - he admired your drive and the way you always dove headfirst into your studies, marveled at your cool confidence anytime you stepped in to defend him against those who refused to understand his Quirk. By the time the Sports Festival rolled around he found himself constantly by your side.
In fact, it was you who helped him figure out the best plan of action with such physical challenges involved. Your analytical mind assessed each person and their strengths, pointing out who he should target to remain in the running without giving away too much.
You were always on top of everything - had a back-up plan for any scenario.
So, when he saw you freeze at the bar, he knew something was wrong.
As he got closer the tension was palpable, whatever history you had with this guy clearly wasn't pleasant. He wasn't sure what was said before he got there, only catching the last few words that seemed to strike you like a blow.
That was why he stepped in, at least that's what he told himself.
He was almost to you when you spoke again, your voice sharp and tinged with resentment. Fukuda. Your ex. Shinso felt his own anger flare with recognition.
In all the time you'd dated the man, you never once introduced him to the group. Not that you hadn't tried. Anytime you'd made plans with everyone, intending to bring him along, Shinso would suddenly get a message saying that your boyfriend was sick, or something came up and you wouldn't be able to make it.
The group hated Fukuda - the only person who'd met him was Tokage, and she'd come back from that introduction fuming. It had taken Shinso and Hatsume almost an hour just to talk her out of going after him.
He caught the way the corner of your mouth turned downward - a sign he recognized well. It was something that only happened when you were fighting to control yourself.
Stepping forward, he pulled the pair's attention off you for a moment - hopefully long enough for you to regain your composure.
"There a problem?"
Hitoshi barely listened to the man's smug response; his attention already split between your ex and you.
"Yes, Fukuda. I spoke with my mother today. Rather last minute don't you think?"
The tone of your voice was chilling enough that even Shinso had to suppress a shudder. His gaze darted to you again, taking in the set of your shoulders and stern expression on your face. Just as he was about to pull you away, the woman spoke.
Her voice was sickly sweet - too polite to be interpreted as anything other than contempt.
"Oh, I don't think so. A month should be plenty of time... I'm sure you and your partner will have no problem getting the time off work."
Beside him, you straightened. The movement was almost imperceptible, had he not been focused on making sure you were alright, he might have missed it. But he didn't. Just as he didn't miss the way you pressed your lips into a firm line and the slight narrowing of your eyes.
"Unless of course, you don't have anyone to bring?"
Indignation on your behalf pulsed through him at the clear derision in her tone. Before he had a chance to think, he slung one arm around your shoulders. Finally, fully facing the woman before addressing her, boredom dripping from every word.
"'Course she's got someone to bring."
Your ex scoffed, a sneer curling his lips into an unpleasant expression.
"Tch, sure. And you are?"
From where you were tucked against him, Shinso felt you shift as one arm moved to wrap around his back - the faintest hint of a tremble in your fingers as they clung to the soft leather of his jacket.
"Shinso Hitoshi. Her partner."
At the mention of his name Fukuda stiffened, igniting a little rush of pride in Hitoshi's chest. His dark eyes immediately darted to you.
"Thought you said he was just a friend."
Ah, he was jealous.
"He was, Fukuda."
The woman looked between your ex and you, her gaze narrow and assessing, until a frown pulled her lips into a pathetic little pout.
"C'mon baby, you can catch-up at the wedding," she patted his chest, the flash of an obnoxiously large stone catching the light. "We better get back before everyone else starts missing us."
Fukuda's jaw tensed, before he finally nodded at his fiancé. The pair turned and began walking back toward their table. Shinso kept his arm around your shoulders, turning slightly so that he was facing you more than them - though not enough to miss the way Fukuda turned around as if to say something before thinking better of it.
Shinso heard you let out a long breath, his attention immediately snapping to your face.
"Are you alright?"
Stepping firmly between you and the retreating forms of Fukuda and Muto, Shinso stooped a little in order to fully take in your expression. The weight of his hands on your shoulders seemed to settle some of whatever emotions were roiling beneath the surface as you took a deep breath and met his eyes.
You looked tired. Not just from the confrontation with Fukuda, there was more weighing on you - more you hadn't shared with him or, he’d guess, anyone else.
"I'm okay, Shinso. Thanks for that," you gave a halfhearted laugh as you shrugged your shoulders.
"You sure? Cuz that guy was a dick. I get why Setsuna wanted to kill him now."
He tried to keep it light, make a joke (kinda) to cut through the heaviness that seemed to pervade your being.
With a snort, an amused smirk pulled at the corners of your mouth that sent a rush of relief through him. Hitoshi wasn't used to seeing you like this. Between the two of them, they'd had their fair share of difficulties, especially after the War. But even then, he'd never seen you look so lost.
"I'm sure. I'm just sorry you got wrapped up in all that." Another sigh left you when you maneuvered away from his hands and turned toward the bar where your previously forgotten drink sat waiting. "He's always known exactly how to get on my nerves."
He watched the way your shoulders loosened and dropped as you took a sip, the weariness from earlier becoming more apparent as you relaxed. After a moment of quiet, Shinso spoke again, the question falling from his lips with a hint of amusement.
"So, what exactly did I get myself into?"
A/N: Quirk Descriptions will be added to the actual fic once I get it posted. I've made quite a few Quirks for various fics. Would anyone be interested in me putting together a post with a list of them???
**Please do not copy, modify, translate, steal, feed to AI, etc. Feel free to like, comment, and reblog!
He knew something was off. You had been like this for weeks; you would seem fine, smiling, happy, cheerful, but your hobbies that he would always watch you work on and talk about slowly faded into the background. Instead of him finding you working on your next project, you would be on the couch on your phone, or watching a random video you found on YouTube, or doing literally anything else.
He didn't ask you, didn't push, that wasn't his style. He would let you handle it until he thought he needed to step in. When he came home from patrol, he would find you cooking dinner for the two of you, kiss your forehead, and ask how you were doing. He never corrected you when you smiled and said you were fine. He knew you weren't fine.
It got worse when he started going on night patrol more. It was standard for heroes, rotating the night shift, taking a couple. weeks to help out. When he first went on nights he would come home to find you already asleep, as you should be, but as a few days passed, then a week, and then going onto his third week of being on nights, you were awake. You weren't necessarily waiting for him, but you would be watching a live stream of some YouTuber, or playing a video game that had pixelated chickens that you named Nugget (he stopped asking about the game after you told him that). He knew it was time he said something.
It was a Monday night, and he knew you had work early the next morning, but close to 1 am, he found you sitting outside on the balcony, staring at the city lights as you sipped on a hot drink. He stood inside and watched you for a moment. Watched the way your shoulders were tensed, how your face was in a neutral expression, not the soft smile that used to always be there, and watched how the person he loved, his partner in everything, seemed to be slowly fading away. His chest tightened, and he took a deep breath before opening the door.
"What's goin on with ya?" He asks casually as he sits down. He doesn't look at you, knowing the direct attention would work you up. Instead, he looks out into the city with you. "You haven't been actin' like yourself recently- now I know yer not sleepin', so what happened?" You inhale. You knew this was coming, but you also knew you weren't going to be ready for this talk.
"It's just a few late nights, Kat, not a big deal." You say. He scoffs and leans back in the patio chair, the one he remembers you picking out so excitedly as he eye-rolled at the price, but he bought it- because it was for you.
"You think I don't feel ya tossin and turnin when I get in bed? Or when you get up at five in the mornin' cause you don't want to wake me with your rustlin'? You might be in bed, but you're not sleeping. Now you are fully awake when I come home. Don't lie to me, you're thinking way too fuckin' loud for you to tell me you're fine." You look over at him, and it gives him the motivation to push more.
"I haven't seen you touch your book in almost two weeks. That drawing for that friend you never finished, nor have I seen that dumb website up on your computer that you used to rave on about- you go to work, come home and make a drink, and dull yer mind out with noise, whether it's that stupid youtuber that I swear to fuckin' God says 'chat' every five seconds or play that game where you act like you know the first thing about farmin'." He leans forward. "I miss you. So where are you? Cause you're not here- and it's startin' to scare the shit out of me."
You glaze over his face, seeing the worry, the fear, the love- and you know you can't lie to him. You reach over and take his hand into yours and give him a sad smile.
Hi guys. I'm so sorry for disappearing, life got pretty heavy, then work got busy and I had to work a bunch of overtime. By the time I got home from work I was too tired to focus on writing anything.
The good news is that things seem to be settling and slowing down now! I've finally found the energy to work on fics again, which means I am currently working on another Fake Dating Fic! This time featuring everyone's sleepy boy Shinso!
Updates will probably still be slow for a bit until I get my feet back under me. But I haven't forgotten about you all, and I'm still around... just lurking while I let my brain rest haha.
Another self-indulgence piece, not quite Valentine's Day, but soft and cute anyway. I hope you guys enjoy it!
Tags: ProHero!Bakugo x Plus-Size!Reader, light angst, fluff, body insecurities, Bakugo loves his partner regardless of their size
W/C: 2,172
Masterlist
It wasn't that you didn't want to cuddle with your boyfriend, you wanted to, desperately. The problem was that you were terrified. Not of him, never of him. But what if he realized you weren't enough? What if the plush weight of your thighs or the softness of your stomach was unappealing or too much? Would he realize how much better he could do and decide to be done with you to find that 'better'?
You couldn't voice your thoughts, anytime you even considered it the words would get caught in your throat and you'd feel like you were choking. Because what if you pointing it out made him see it when he hadn't before?
Too many what if's always swirling in your head, the anxiety and fear making it so that you could never fully relax around him - no matter how much you wanted to. He'd never given you any reason to think he might leave or change his mind. But you heard the whispers, the backhanded compliments and derisive words. You saw the comments on the rare occasion he would post something of the two of you or a photo of you would make its way into some tabloid or article about him or your relationship.
The thing is, you're not weak, not by a long shot. But you carry some extra weight, and it's something you've been reminded of since elementary school when your own mother threatened to put you on a diet at the tender age of 11. Even now, well into your adult life, she would still reference that singular summer where she didn't have you participate in a sport as the reason you're a little extra fluffy.
Bakugo wasn't stupid, he noticed how some days you seemed fine, laughing and touching him with ease and suddenly the next day you would shy away from his touch. He noticed the way you almost seemed to flinch when he'd hold you from behind or how you'd look yourself over with a critical eye anytime you'd go out together in public.
He just didn't get why. You're gorgeous, he'd thought that since the first time he saw you.
You were at the gym, a light sheen of sweat giving you a soft glow even under the harsh overhead lights. An oversized t-shirt hid most of your upper body, dark calf-length leggings nearly hid the bit of athletic tape you'd applied to stabilize your ankle before working out. It must have been an arm day for you and your friend because you were standing above the bench behind them, warm hands hovering beneath the bar as you spotted them.
The bar made it to the rack, small weights rattling slightly as it came to rest. Your friend was breathing heavily with a grin on her face, one shaky arm raising to give you a high-five before you started pulling the smaller weights off.
He almost looked away then, almost refocused on his own workout.
But then you grabbed a larger plate - much larger - and you slid another in place on the other side. Your friend's eyes went a little wide, slight worry coloring her expression before you said something that made her laugh.
Bakugo couldn't take his eyes off you as you laid down and gripped the bar. You took a breath and lifted the bar off the rack, slightly adjusting your hold now that you had the weight free and above you. Then, with an ease that clearly surprised your friend (and him if he was being honest), you knocked out the set like it was nothing.
He asked you out that day.
Tonight was like every other, you were staring at the doors of the refrigerator contemplating what you wanted to make for dinner, before ultimately deciding it was going to be a snack night. Maybe not the 'healthiest' choice, but literally nothing sounded good.
Grabbing a tray from the shelf, you pulled out some of the smaller ceramic bowls you used for snacks and cereal, and began to arrange them on the tray before filling them. A bowl of mixed nuts, a handful of cheese slices and crackers, grapes, carrot sticks, celery with a little bit of something to dip them in, a small bowl of little candies - you filled the tray with an array of various things you could much on throughout the evening.
Just as you were about to sit down there was a quick, sharp knock at the door. Before you could take a step toward it, you heard the familiar rattle of keys that always came before the appearance of a certain explosive blond. He always knocked before coming in, no matter how many times you told him he didn't have to.
"Don't want ya freakin' out if ya didn't hear me."
At this point you guys spent almost every night together, whether it was at his apartment or your own. So, rather than get up, you made yourself comfortable on the couch, draping a blanket over your lap and pushing the sleeves of your sweatshirt up so they weren't in the way. Almost every sweatshirt you owned was two sizes bigger than you actually needed - partially for comfort, partially to hide.
"Hey 'Tsuki," you didn't get up, but you gave him a soft smile from where you sat.
The tension in his shoulders eased as soon as his eyes met yours, crimson irises almost seemed to burn with the way they caught the light.
"Hey, pretty."
Warmth flooded your chest, creeping up the back of your neck at the pet name. No matter how often he used it, it still set your heart racing.
You took a moment to take him in; the sharp line of his jaw, the way the ends of his hair dipped just a little under their still damp weight, how his shirt clung just right to the ridges of his toned abdomen. He was beautiful, like a sculpture the gods made flesh. The thought alone sent butterflies through your stomach while your chest tightened uncomfortably.
The sound of his keys hitting the counter pulled you from your thoughts. You refocused in time to see him trudging over to the couch before he plopped down beside you, the weight of his impact jostling you. With a groan, he sprawled out beside you - long legs hanging off the arm while he laid his head in your lap.
A soft chuckle escaped as he did, "Rough day?"
"Tch, damn extras kept gettin' in the way." Another laugh slipped past your lips as you began tracing your fingers through his hair. "S'not funny. When they get hurt, they're gonna blame me."
A pout pulled at his lips. He was irresistible like this, soft and tired after a long patrol. You ducked your head to place a gentle kiss against his lips.
Flicking through a few shows, you finally settled on one as a pleased hum left him. You continued absentmindedly running your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp as the two of you relaxed in comfortable silence - only the quiet sounds of the tv filling the space.
Your snacks sat forgotten on the coffee table in front of you, until he spoke up quietly, "You eat yet?"
"Mmh, kinda," you gestured vaguely toward the still mostly full tray.
He narrowed his eyes, first at the tray, then at you.
"The hell's that?"
Raising an eyebrow as you looked down at his head still in your lap, "Dinner? Nothing sounded good so I figured I'd just munch on whatever seemed vaguely appealing."
"Want me ta make you somethin'?" His voice was soft, lacking any of the bite he used with others.
"That's alright, Tsuki. I'm not that hungry anyway."
He was quiet for long enough that you finally looked down to make sure he hadn't fallen asleep. Only to find him gazing up at you with narrowed, searching eyes. Taking a deep breath, he sat up slowly, keeping his attention on you as he did.
"What's wrong?"
That uncomfortable tightness in your chest came back, fighting against the warmth he always brought.
"Nothing's wrong. Just not hungry."
He continued to watch you for another long moment before swiftly scooping you up and into his lap.
You let out a startled squeak, panic immediately setting in when you realized what he was doing.
"Wait! No! I'm too heavy!"
With an exasperated scoff, he easily settled you into his lap, rolling his eyes at your protests, "What're you talkin' about?"
Heat ignited in your cheeks and up the back of your neck. It was almost hard to breathe with how afraid you were of moving - petrified that if you did, you might hurt him or he'd suddenly realize you weren't some delicate flower.
"Katsuki, please." You didn't dare try and wiggle your way free, keeping your eyes on your hands as you focused on trying to stay small.
"Hey."
The warmth of his hand under your chin sent goosebumps racing across your skin.
"Look at me, pretty."
Flicking your eyes up to meet his, there was a little crease forming between his brows as he looked at you with worry.
"What's goin' on up here?"
The hand under your chin moved enough for him to gently tap near your temple, his eyes never leaving yours as they attempted to search your very soul for answers.
You had to fight against the reflex to look away, until you eventually gave in - returning your gaze to where your hands had unconsciously begun pulling at the sleeves of your sweatshirt. He gave you time as you tried to figure out how to tell him what you were thinking, hoping you could do it without him realizey what you'd been fearing.
Finally giving up and accepting that he would probably leave after you revealed the truth, you tried to swallow past the lump in your throat - tears already starting to sting at your waterline.
"I'm too big, 'Tsuki..." Risking a glance up, you saw him watching you with confusion, a frown pulling at his mouth. "I try, I really do try to lose weight and stay in shape. But it feels like no matter what I do it just... stays."
When he didn't say anything, you continued.
"I see what everyone says and how they look at us when we go out together. They get it too." Swallowing hard, when you spoke again your voice was barely above a whisper, so quiet you almost hoped he wouldn't hear you. "They don't get why we are together... when you could do so much better..."
The tightness in your chest was almost painful now as you held your breath and waited for his response.
Seconds seemed to pass like hours, each one stretching into the next as your heart hammered in your ears. You felt his fingers flex just slightly as they held you, digging into the fabric of your sweatshirt.
"That really whatcha think?"
Peeking up, you had to stop yourself from jumping at the expression that greeted you. His face was soft; the usual harsh line of his mouth curved into a tender smile - the sharp cut of his jaw gentled with the relaxed way he tipped his head as he gazed at you.
"Pretty, ‘don't want anyone else. I don't care what some extra on the street or hidin' behind a keyboard thinks."
His hold on you tightened, pulling you tighter against his chest.
"I asked you out cuz I wanted to. Ya didn't trick me or whatever other stupid thoughts are knockin' around in that head a'yours. You’re strong, stronger than most people I know. I don't care if ya got a little extra on top." One of his large hands drifted to gently grip your thigh, "Just means I got that much more a ya to love on."
Heat flared in your cheeks. Your head snapped up to look at him, immediately noting the low burn of desire reflected in his eyes.
"Tsuki, you don't have to-"
He cut you off, "I don't say shit I don't mean, you should know that by now."
You watched him for another moment. His gaze never faltered, the heat in his eyes rivaled only by the love that was clearly shining alongside it.
As you scrambled to think of something to say, he never gave you the chance. Gently, but firmly, he gripped your chin, tilting it back far enough that he could capture your lips with his.
The kiss was warm and firm, full of desire and a burning intensity that made you fight against the need to squirm in his lap. His mouth moved against yours with such ease and confidence you could do nothing but accept the clear need he was trying to convey.
When you finally broke apart, your chest heaved as you gasped for air. Leaning forward he pressed his forehead against yours.
"'M here cuz I wanna be, pretty."
Asks/Requests are open!
**Please do not copy, modify, translate, steal, feed to AI, etc. Feel free to like, comment, and reblog!
A quick fluffy self-indulgent Valentine's fic for Kirishima. I love this sweet boy so much.
Tags: Pro Hero!Kirishima x GN!Reader, Fluff
W/C: 858
Masterlist
For most of your life Valentine's Day was just another day. You'd been in a couple of relationships on the day before, but those partners had never really done anything - never bothered to put in the same effort you had. This year though, it was already different.
The sound of your alarm woke you as it always did, the soft song the only thing you could set that wouldn't start your day with a heart attack. Snoozing it once, you forced yourself to rise once it went off again. A soft groan escaping as you sat up, the warm body of a cat curled up between your legs making it difficult. The fluffy little shit barely moved, only lifting her head enough to give you a nasty side-eye, as if to say 'how dare you wake me.'
Huffing a laugh, you patted her head before carefully extricating yourself from the blankets and getting ready for the day. By the time you'd dressed and finished your normal morning routine, you had just enough time to enjoy a light breakfast and a cup of coffee before you needed to leave for work. Which meant you finally had a chance to check your notifications from the night before.
A small smile lit your face when you saw the notice of a message from your boyfriend. Opening the app, you were immediately greeted by a long string of little red hearts that took up nearly half of your phone screen with a little note at the bottom. Warmth bloomed in your chest as you read his sweet words.
Eiji: Good morning beautiful! Happy Valentine's Day! Don't forget to dress warm, I'll see you tonight! <3
The message had come through nearly two hours before your alarm went off, just before he would have started his patrol shift. Typing out a quick reply, you wished him a happy valentine's day, before finishing your coffee and heading out the door.
Work was as irritating as always, only today there was a plus side of your favorite coworker bringing in little treats for the holiday. You through your headphones on and quickly got to work, trying to focus so you could go home a little early. It was just about the time you usually took your lunch when one of your coworkers came to find you, saying there was a customer who wanted to speak with you.
With a sigh, you followed them, hoping it wouldn't take too long. As soon as you stepped through the door though, your frustration immediately evaporated.
Standing tall with a broad grin stretched across his face, Kirishima Eijiro seemed to fill the space in front of you. His normally spiked hair hung loose, the tips still somewhat damp from the shower he took after patrol. The moment his eyes found yours, everything about him softened - even the sharpness of his teeth seemed to dull when you came into view.
His wide shoulders were somewhat hunched from how he had his hands tucked behind his back. A soft shirt clung to the defined expanse of his chest just enough to make your mouth water, as the long sleeves strained as they attempted to contain the bulk of his biceps.
"Hi baby," his voice was almost shy when he finally spoke, a light dusting of pink touching his cheeks.
"Hi Eiji," a fond smile spreading as you stepped toward him. "What are you doing here? I thought I'd be seeing you tonight?"
Finally releasing his arms from behind him, he pulled out a small but beautiful bouquet. Roses of various colors mixed with greens and your favorite flowers artfully worked together to breathe life into the low burning ember that his message from this morning had ignited in your chest.
"I mean, yeah, I'll see you tonight. But I wanted to surprise you."
He finally stepped forward, meeting you part way. Just before reaching out, you hesitated, your hand lifting slightly before you looked up to meet his eye.
"Are these for me?"
The subtle tip of his head gave him an endearing, almost puppy-like appearance, "Of course. Who else would I get flowers for?"
Humor laced his tone. Your eyes immediately stung as tears gathered unbidden, a lump forming in your throat that you fought desperately to push down.
Kirishima noticed immediately, concern flooding his face, "Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?"
A soft laugh escaped, one hand quickly wiping at your eyes while the other grabbed his free hand.
"Nothing's wrong, Eiji." Another incredulous laugh left you as his hand closed around yours, warm and grounding. "I've just never got flowers before."
Eijiro looked at you with offended devastation, "Well that's just unmanly! How could someone have you and not want to give you all the pretty things?!"
Setting the flowers on the counter behind you, your massive boyfriend wrapped you in his arms, holding you close. The solid rhythm of his heart soothing the emotions that had threatened to overwhelm you.
If this was how Valentine’s Day was supposed to be, then maybe you were starting to understand why everyone seemed to enjoy it so much.
Asks/Requests are open!
**Please do not copy, modify, translate, steal, feed to AI, etc. Feel free to like, comment, and reblog!
Hello lovelies! Recently I've been wanting to write a "Fake Dating" Oneshot, but I can't decide who I want to write it for! So I thought I'd post a poll and see what you all thought!
If I have enough fun writing it, I might do more "Fake Dating" fics! I don't want to make it into multiple parts, but I do intend for this to be a longer oneshot, 5k+ most likely.
Anyway! Let me know who'd like to see! If your pick isn't on the list, feel free to suggest them in the comments or send me an ask!
Who should reader Fake Date?
Monoma
Kirishima
Kaminari
Shoto
Midoriya
Dabi
Shinso
Voting ended onJan 6
Asks/Requests are open!
**Please do not copy, modify, translate, steal, feed to AI, etc. Feel free to like, comment, and reblog!
For those of you interested, I have finished the Shoto Fic! It is now posted and MUCH longer than I originally planned. But the writing gods spoke and I am but a humble vessel 😅😅
But for real, I had so much fun writing this and I really hope you all enjoy it!
Synopsis: Tired of the way the double standard the media perpetuates, Shoto offers to be your fake boyfriend to see if that would make a difference in how they treat you. As the weeks pass and the two of you spend more time together, you slowly begin to realize just how much you like having Shoto in your life.
Tags: ProHero!Shoto x ProHeroF!Reader, Reader has Quirk, Fake Dating, soft Shoto, protective Shoto, hurt/comfort, happy ending, no use of y/n, toxic previous relationship, mentions of cheating, attempted manipulation, canon typical violence, description of injuries
Reader Info - Hero Name: Pack Leader Graduated from Shiketsu, best friend Okabe Yoritoki (Hero Name: Nightmare's Pretender)
A/N at the end
W/C: 16.5k (sorry not sorry)😅
Quirk: Wicked Wolf
The wielder of Wicked Wolf has the ability to manifest the Quirk into a semi-corporeal form, similar to that of Dark Shadow. This emitter type Quirk is incredibly versatile, working well in both offense and defense. In addition, due to the fact that the wolven manifestations are not physically connected to the user, Wicked Wolf is an ideal Quirk for search-and-rescue efforts.
Multiple Summons - More than one wolf can be summoned at once, with up to six being the maximum. Each manifestation is controlled by the used and will follow the commands given. Drawback - When more than one manifestation is summoned, the strength of the Quirk is split between each incarnation - meaning that the physical resilience and capabilities of the creatures are reduced.
Stronger Together - Much like a natural wolf pack, Wicked Wolf is stronger when the wielder is fighting alongside it. The manifestation/s will fight on their own if ordered, but function the best when working together.
Power in Control - It takes many years of dedicated training to fully control Wicked Wolf, making it difficult on wielders when the ability first manifests. Wicked Wolf is fiercely protective of the user and loyal to the point of sacrificing itself to ensure the wielders safety.
Once summoned and used at full strength until defeat, Wicked Wolf cannot be summoned again until the wielder regains the energy necessary to do so. Through rigorous training, the power and resilience of this Quirk can be increased.
There is no time limit for how long the manifestations can last, so long as the wielder is not incapacitated or Wicked Wolf's power has not been overwhelmed.
Masterlist
It had been a long time since this particular feeling of isolation had forced its way into your life. So long, in fact, that you'd nearly forgotten how awful it could be. You had a press conference this afternoon to address the success of your most recent mission as well as to acknowledge your new ranking of 12th on the Hero Billboard Charts. You'd been away on said mission when the ranks were announced and your agency insisted that you needed to acknowledge it.
That sounded atrocious, frankly. You'd only been home for two days and there was already a swarm of media outside your neighborhood and agency. The thought of what it was going to be like once you returned to patrols had a pit of dread forming in your gut. Mount Lady and Mirko warned you, once you got your cell phone back and checked your messages, that it was going to be a disaster when you returned.
They hadn't been wrong.
From the moment you walked out of the HPSC main office, covered in cuts and bruises and sore to your very bones, you'd been hounded by the media. Paparazzi had staked out the gates to your neighborhood and emails hadn't stopped flooding in with interview and photo op requests. You were certain that your PR team was thrilled with the attention while also being a nervous wreck.
There were two heroes in the top 50 who required an army of PR agents - Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight... and you.
In your defense, you didn't have the explosive attitude and anger that Bakugo did. Your problem, according to your agency, was your fierce protective nature and disgust with the media in general. Unlike most of the male Pros, for some reason the media thought it was appropriate to ask invasive questions about the private lives of yourself and other female Pros - to a degree that more than once, you'd been unable to stop the manifestation of your Quirk during an interview or media barrage outside the agency.
Wicked Wolf could sense your nervous energy and immediately sprang to your defense - never once hurting anyone, but certainly reminding the paparazzi exactly why you were in the profession you were in.
Another chime from your phone drew your attention to the screen. Relief flooded you as you read through messages in the group chat.
Tsu: Heard Pack Leaders back in town?
Raka: Oooooo really?! Does that mean it's finally time for a night out?!
Inasa: I WOULD LOVE TO GO OUT WITH YOU ALL
Deku: Inasa, your capslock is stuck again.
But a night out sounds great here!
Tsu: What do you say Pack leader? Wanna grab drinks after your press conference?
You: I'll certainly need it after the mess I came home to lol
Shadow Master: Pretender and I will arrive after patrol is complete.
Inasa: I WILL BE THERE! REGULAR PLACE??
F&I: Once I finish this paperwork I can join you.
Raka: Let's do it!
You: See you guys then!
A fluffy head nudged your hand when you finally set your phone down. The somewhat-translucent visage of Wicked Wolf stood beside you in the kitchen, her massive head level with your chest as it bumped you for attention. Dragging your fingers through its fur absentmindedly, at least you had something to look forward to after the press conference.
You were practically vibrating with rage as you stormed out of the agency press room. Reporters and photographers still shouted questions behind you as the doors slammed shut. How could those god damned parasites think any of that was okay??
The press conference started as expected. Most of the respected news networks and hero journals asked insightful, careful questions about the mission and its aftermath. The follow-ups were just as respectful and began to slowly lull you into a false sense of security.
You'd provided as much information as you were allowed regarding the search-and-rescue efforts and the mission itself. The relevant inquiries had wound down and then someone started the ball rolling. Initially, everything seemed normal - they asked about your feelings on making the Top 15, wondering what it meant for your career moving forward. Responding with an even tone, you expressed your gratitude for the public's support and respect - noting specifically how none of it would have been possible without their trust. At the edge of the room you saw Ikeda Machi, the head of your PR department, give a nod with a proud smile on her face.
Then it finally happened. Some beady-eyed reporter with a too-thin mustache stood with a smirk on his face.
"Tell us Pack Leader, don't you think now that you've made the Top 15 it's time to think about settling down?"
Another person stood, hollering their own question, "Is it true that you and Nightmare's Pretender are romantically involved?!"
The bullshit just kept coming; "You're not getting any younger, shouldn't you start thinking about a family?" "What about the rumors of a sexual relationship with Red Riot?" "Do you have any comments on the marriage of Mount Lady and Kamui Woods?"
On and on the questions flew. Mortification and rage burned at the back of your neck, heating your face as each intrusive inquiry was launched - until you finally turned on your heel and walked out, not having answered a single one.
"Pack Leader! You can't just walk out like that!"
Hurrying toward you in her neat suit, put together and flawless as ever, was Ikeda Machi. You glanced over your shoulder just once before continuing your march, slowing enough for her to just catch up.
"I'm serious. You can't keep doing this! It's going to tank your rating again! Do you have any idea how hard it is to convince anyone to work with you when you pull stunts like this?!"
Letting out a scoff, you finally whirled to face her, pleased when she shrank back as you towered nearly a full head above her.
"If you want me to play nice, then stop allowing those asinine questions," your voice came out with a low growl that seemed to almost echo down the hall. "My personal life is none of their damn business. I thought half of your job was supposed to make sure the media behaved too. Instead, you spend all your time bitching at me!"
Her face flushed red as you threw her own mistakes back at her. She opened her mouth to speak, a frown pulling at her lips, but you didn't let her.
"Ya know, how 'bout since you can't seem to do your job, you find a new one? How's that sound?"
Without another word, you turned and stormed out of the building.
Laughter filled the bar as the group of Pros lounged back into the cozy booth you'd managed to snag. Music thrummed in the background, preventing your conversations from drifting any further than the tables beside you. It was comfortable, a breath of fresh air after the disaster of a press conference you'd come from.
"...I'm telling you!" Uraraka had her fruity drink raised up to emphasize her words, "You don't see the press asking those kinds of questions to Deku! Or even Bakugo! Why do we have to put up with it?"
"It's true. During my last interview I got asked whether the mucus I secrete is better than a normal skincare routine," Tsu nodded along with the brunette, her own glass resting on the table in front of her.
"But we get asked questions about our relationships too!" Midoriya spoke up as he tried to defend himself, "They asked all kinds'a stuff after my last break up."
"Oh really?" You leaned forward, ice clinking in the dark amber liquid of your drink, "Did they ask you who was better in bed, Red Riot or Nightmare's Pretender?"
Okabe Yoritoki flushed next to you as he choked.
Midoriya looked at you with wide, startled eyes, "Wait, they actually asked that?!"
"Deku, we regularly get asked those kinds of questions. Do you just... not watch our interviews?"
You hid a chuckle behind your glass at Ochaco's question. Across from you, Inasa looked mortified at the whole idea. In fact, this might be the longest you'd ever heard the massive hero silent before - and considering you graduated with him, that was saying a lot. At the end of the table, Todoroki and Tokoyami both had expressions of confused anger creasing their brows.
Just as you were about to look away, Shoto's eyes flicked up to meet yours, as if he could feel your gaze on him. A light flush touched his cheeks before he shifted his eyes to Yoritoki as the man beside you spoke.
"In Midoriya's defense, I don't think most of us have time to watch each other's interviews," there was a soft murmur of agreement around the table. "I do agree though, that the media has gone too far with their questions recently. We don't get quite as many of the intrusive ones you guys do. But it has gotten worse the last couple years."
"For real! I feel like they only ever back off if we're in a relationship! And even then, they only kinda behave if our partner is around!"
Nodding along with Ochaco, you took another sip of your drink, feeling the liquor burn on the way down.
"Maybe I need to get a fake boyfriend just to shut the idiots up."
Your sarcastic remark had another round of soft laughter spread across the table, until eventually falling into comfortable silence. Chatter drifted to you from other tables, filling the air as you relaxed back against the cushion behind you.
"I'll do it."
Your breath caught in your chest. Across from you, Uraraka sputtered into her drink, coughing enough that Inasa looked at her with concern and began rubbing her back. Deku froze mid-sip, his eyes going wide as they flicked to the end of the table.
Varying expressions of shock morphed across your friends faces as you all turned to glance over to the person who spoke.
Blue and grey eyes looked back at you with a slight crease between his brows. Shoto didn't seem to notice, or care, that the rest of the table was staring too - his serious gaze never left yours.
"Sho- Todoroki, I was just kidding..."
He frowned at your words, his face shifting into an expression of mild confusion.
"But if you think it would help, why not try it?"
This was a side of the two-toned hero you often forgot about. It was far more common when you were younger for him to misunderstand social situations. He'd gotten much more adept as you'd all matured - but this straight-forward willingness to help had always been one of his most endearing qualities.
In the days following the press conference and drinks with your friends, you'd returned to your agency with a silent prayer for life to return to normal. For the most part, things had. The agency was interviewing for a new Chief Public Relations Officer, with several of the most promising already employed by you. Most news networks had moved on to other stories - but that didn't stop the paparazzi who flocked the main entrance to your building.
It was exhausting. Even out on patrol with Nightmare's Pretender or a sidekick didn't stop them from trying to get a response of some kind from you. Thankfully, all it took was a cease-and-desist letter for most of the unwanted attention to back off. Though it still felt like the only place you could actually find some peace and quiet was the sanctuary of your home.
A soft knock at the door had Wicked Wolf's head snapping up in the direction of the entry, a low rumble echoing out of her chest. You laughed, patting the massive head between the ears before rising from the couch. The best part of your Quirk was never having to be alone - between the size of a single manifestation and the fact that you could summon as many as six, you made sure to buy a home with a yard. They weren't real animals in a traditional sense, but Wicked Wolf had been your best friend and protector ever since she'd manifested.
Standing outside was someone you'd never expected to have in your home before today - Todoroki Shoto.
"Hey," you gave him a soft smile.
"Hello," if you hadn't known him for years, you would have missed the faint upturn at the corners of his mouth.
"C'mon in."
Stepping aside, you gestured for him to enter. Your home was spacious, grander probably than you really needed - but you liked having the extra space. Plus, it was a comfort knowing that if your friends or family needed somewhere to stay or wanted to visit there would be enough room to remain comfortable.
Leading him into the dining space, you turned before speaking, "Do you want anything to drink? Tea, coffee, booze?"
The last option was intended to be funny - it was hardly past 10 in the morning. But the way his face shifted subtly into confusion made you realize he didn't pick up on the humor.
"Todoroki... it was a joke."
He let out a breath, shoulders relaxing as he did, "Oh. Right. Tea would be great, if you don't mind."
"Not at all." Turning to head for the kitchen, you spoke over your shoulder, "The living room is to the right, feel free to make yourself comfortable. I'll be back in a minute."
By the time the tea was done and you rounded the corner to head for the living room, you caught sight of the two-toned hero standing frozen in the middle of the room - his gaze locked on something in the corner.
With a sigh, you walked in to find Wicked Wolf still lounging on the couch, its baleful gaze locked on the large man.
"Oi. Knock it off you overgrown stuffy."
The wolf huffed as it rose from the cushioned seat and padded out the open slider to the yard where she stretched and began sniffing at the ground.
"Sorry, she sometimes has an attitude. Come sit down."
He took one more look at the wolf outside before sitting down a respectful distance from you.
"It's alright." Extending his hand to accept the tea, his heterochromatic eyes darted to you for a moment before looking away. "Thank you."
You gave him a hum, taking a small sip as you looked him over. He was handsome, there was no denying that. Shoto had been in relationships in the past, the most public of which was with Yaoyorozu shortly after graduation. They dated for just under a year and split amicably, after that he'd been with a few others - some more public than the rest. The career he'd built for himself spoke volumes of the growth he'd made since your school days. Especially now as the No 2 Pro, there was no way someone could suggest he was skating by on his father’s reputation the way they had when he first made Pro.
"You know you don't have to do this right? I know you offered, but there's no shame in backing out. The girls and I were just bitching about the double standard, that's all."
He gave you a long look, his expression giving nothing away.
When he finally spoke his voice was quiet, "I know. But you're right. If I hadn't noticed it from your interviews, there was no ignoring it when I had to get through the crowd outside the gate."
There were always at least a few vultures lingering at the entrance to your neighborhood. Thankfully many of the residents were heroes or worked in the industry, which meant the security here was just as good as it was deeper into the city where many Pros resided in apartments.
"If you think a fake relationship will help with the invasive questions, then I am happy to lend a hand."
A huff from your right drew your attention to the wolf padding back into the room. From where you sat on the couch, the creature was now eye level with you - the broad expanse of its muscular shoulders would be an intimidating sight, were she not your Quirk to control. You reached out absentmindedly to scratch behind her ears while you considered what he said.
Shoto's eyes darted once again to where your hand met the form of your Quirks manifestation. The two of you had worked together a bit in the past, but not enough for him to be familiar, or fully comfortable around the hulking mass now beginning to lean into your touch. You watched his head tip slightly to one side, almost like that of a puppy when they are trying to figure something out - the thought brought a smile to your face as you refocused on the conversation at hand.
"Alright," you returned your gaze to him. "Then we should probably talk out the logistics."
For the next 30 minutes or so, the two of you fell into easy discussion of boundaries and behaviors for this public relationship. In order to truly sell the idea that you were in a relationship, you'd be attending any public events either of you were invited as a couple, so long as the other wasn't working. Touch was allowed, hand-holding, hugs, a hand at your back, kisses on the cheek - simple gestures to help sell the illusion without being too intimate.
You also agreed to an outing next week when both of you had the afternoon off. It was Shoto's idea, actually - the idea being to plant the seed of a possible relationship without it being too over the top yet.
By the time the lines were drawn you were both chuckling lightly as the silliness of what you were doing. A soft smile tugged Shoto's lips upward in a rare expression of joy.
"Last question then," he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "Are we going to the Hero Awards together?"
"You mean the one next month?"
He gave you a nod in response.
"Hmm. I suppose we could. But I've already ordered my dress, so I won't have time to get another to match whatever you're wearing."
"Of course not," the way he said it made it seem so simple, so matter-of-fact. Yet Darkleaf had always insisted you match his attire, not the other way around. "It's a simple matter to change the color of my tie. I've been to enough of these to know your dress was probably custom."
A flicker of warmth fluttered in your chest at the gesture.
The whole point of bringing you had been to make a public appearance - even so, Shoto couldn't ignore the subtle twist of nerves in his stomach. He didn't understand, it wasn't as if the two of you were actually dating. But since offering to be your fake boyfriend, he'd been talking to you a lot more than in the past. He was used to seeing you at friendly gatherings, or working together during different missions and community events as heroes - not like this.
Not this... close.
He'd reached out to the aquarium before suggesting it as a destination, hoping they would be able to accommodate his request to enter through a different door than the public. The staff had been more than willing to work with him, even offering private tours and behind the scenes experiences that he'd politely declined. It was better if the two of you could enter separately, but he'd wanted to try and keep the outing public in an effort to ease both of you into the chaos that was sure to follow the pair attending the Hero Awards together.
When you'd arrived at his apartment dressed comfortably in jeans and a crop-top, layered with a slightly oversized cardigan - your bright smile pushed soft creases into the skin around your eyes - he felt a tightness seize his chest for a moment before it disappeared. You'd clearly dressed for comfort, but there was an easy beauty to how you held yourself that immediately made Shoto feel under-dressed.
"Hey! Thanks again for the invitation!" Your smile didn't falter when you stepped into his apartment, keen eyes darting through the space as you catalogued everything you saw. "Sorry I'm a few minutes late. Damn paparazzi outside the gate at home swarmed the car when I tried to leave."
He gave a soft hum before speaking, "I would have thought they would have backed off a bit by now."
With a scoff, your eyes returned to him, "I wish. I think they know Bakugo and I are easy to get reactions from so they don't let up."
A little flash of anger on your behalf brought a frown to his face, pulling the corners of his mouth down into a severe expression.
By the time he'd parked in the employee lot at the aquarium, the tension from earlier was forgotten. In all the time he'd known you, he'd never realized how easy you were to talk to. It wasn't even that you were trying to fill the silence either - the conversation just seemed to flow with an organic simplicity that he found himself thoroughly absorbed in what you had to say.
Before either of them stepped from the car, Shoto made sure his ballcap and mask were secure while you put on your own mask. He'd offered you another ballcap he owned, but you declined with a little shake of your head and a smile.
The staff greeted him at the door with a friendliness he expected but still appreciated. They weren't over the top, still treating the pair like people rather than a commodity. He walked a half-step behind you, his hand instinctively hovering at your lower back - not pushing or touching, more like he was reassuring himself you were still there.
When they finally reached the door into the aquarium itself, the staff member gave each of them a card with their name, title, and direct line should they need anything or have any problems while trying to enjoy the facility. He gave them a quick smile - forgetting they couldn't see it behind his mask - when he thanked them before following you into the first exhibition room.
The entirety of the facility was softly illuminated to add an almost fantastical atmosphere. Faint music played, barely audible over the quiet chatter of other patrons and occasional delighted squeal of a child. Despite the immense size of the building the layout was easy to follow.
His attention was on a paddling duck in the first proper exhibit that showed some of the native flora and fauna of Japan's forests when he heard you suck in a breath. Following your eyeline, he saw what had captured your attention across the room.
Sleek, fur-covered otters dove elegantly through the water as they played. Their tiny bodies and little webbed feet pulled them effortlessly along as they wove and circled each other in tight patterns.
Drawn by the precious creatures, Shoto was forced to take a few long strides just to catch-up when you took off across the room.
"Oh my gosh," your voice came out in a reverent whisper that Shoto could barely make out over the din in the room. "They're so cute! Look at their little feet!"
He couldn't stop the chuckle that rumbled from his chest at your enthusiasm.
Tipping your head to look up at him, your hand instinctively reached up to catch your sunglasses before they fell, "What? Are you trying to tell me these aren't the cutest things you've ever seen?"
The look on your face had him biting back a laugh, one eyebrow raised with a judgmental scowl that made creases form between your brows.
"They are very cute," keeping his tone even, he watched you roll your eyes before refocusing on the little creatures.
For the rest of the visit, he only briefly scanned the tanks; instead, focusing on you. Taking note of the way your eyes lit up when something cute or exciting happened to move past you. His gaze would follow yours when you stopped to read one of the placards talking about the animals within each tank and exhibit - skimming it over quickly before his eyes fell back on you.
A strange warmth began to bloom in his chest every time he saw your eyes crinkle with delight.
Occasionally one or both of them would get stopped by a patron who recognized them. It wasn't unusual, they were Pro Heroes after all, and you can only hide so much with a mask and hat. Still, for the most part, they were all respectful of the pair's time and didn't bother them more than to say thank you or have their child ask a question or two. You handled it all with surprising grace.
It wasn't that he'd ever doubted you, but he didn't know you, at least not like that. He knew of your reputation with the media, and subconsciously lumped you in with Bakugo - a mistake he now regretted.
The pair were nearly done, almost to the final exhibit, when you stopped beside the massive central exhibit that housed the creatures that usually reside in the deep waters of the Pacific.
Your face was upturned, eyes bright while you watched a pair of rays glide passed. Stepping up beside you, Shoto turned his head to watch a small group of sharks swim by - the stark black tip of their dorsal fins catching his attention. Beside him, you shifted a little closer, your hand brushing against the back of his, forcing his eyes away from the tank and down to meet yours.
There was a mischievous twinkle in your eyes that gave him pause but before he could ask, you spoke.
"Ya know... a group of sharks is called a shiver." You gave yourself an intentional subtle shake, barely holding back the laugh that was evident in your tone.
A heartbeat passed while Shoto stared down, his mind finally registering what you said before a laugh burst out from deep in his chest.
As expected, you hadn't even made it back to Shoto's apartment before pictures of the two of you were making the rounds across various social media platforms. Your phone was buzzing nonstop with messages from friends and your agency staff asking what was going on between the two of you. For a moment you considered throwing your phone out the window before ultimately deciding against it - though the thought was still tempting.
It wasn't until the group chat started to explode that Shoto finally noticed what was happening.
Raka: WAIT!! You guys ACTUALLY decided to do it???
Demon: For real! You should have said something! We coulda helped you guys work out a story or whatever!
Inasa: WHAT AM I MISSING???? WHAT IS HAPPENING???
Deku: The caps lo- oh nevermind. So you're gonna try the whole fake dating thing then?
Shadow Master: I think they make a cute couple
Raka: Oh my god! Tokoyami you can't just say that!
Shadow Master: Why? It is not a lie
Inasa: THEY'RE A COUPLE NOW?!?!
Me: First of all. Calm down lol
We're a pretend couple Inasa
And we talked it out. It's all good guys, we got this
Tsu: Good luck…
And Tokoyami's not wrong
You do make a cute couple
You let out a long sigh, rolling your eyes before setting your phone aside. It was only once you looked out the window that you realized you were almost back to Todoroki's. Your heart stuttered a little at the realization that such a fun day was coming to an end - you shook your head a little, trying to remind yourself that this was fake. If anything, this had been a friendly day out and nothing more.
The media frenzy that Shoto's outing with you kicked up far more trouble for you than it had for him. There were more reporters and paparazzi outside his apartment and agency than usual, but it was still manageable. Fortunately for him, he'd already developed a reputation of maintaining a certain level of privacy with the media.
He didn't understand why they seemed to swarm you so much though. Ever since he'd agreed to be your fake boyfriend, he made a point to pay more attention to your public appearances. You handled yourself well, answered respectful direct questions, and for the most part, ignored everything else. Only once in that time did he see you react poorly and it was a few days after the aquarium "date."
The camera jumped as whoever was holding it seemed to be running to try and catch up with the woman ahead of them. Your back was facing them and you were speaking calmly with someone who looked like they worked at your agency.
"Pack Leader! Pack Leader, we have questions for you!"
The tension in your shoulders was instant as soon as the journalist's voice reached you. The person you were speaking to looked past you with wide eyes as they looked directly into the lens of the camera. You said something, too quiet for the microphone to pick up, that made them nod before they hurried through the main doors of the building.
"Pack Leader!"
The woman shouted again, causing you to turn around with a wince. A frown immediately formed when you saw the woman - your eyes dropping to the logo on her microphone before you visibly clenched your jaw.
"I heard you the first time. What do you need?"
Shoto remembered thinking how impressed he was that you didn't snap at the tone of entitlement the journalist used.
"Morikawa Sako from Heroes Observer. Any comment on the recent rumors about yourself and No 2 Pro Shoto dating?"
She'd barely finished speaking before shoving the microphone in your face so aggressively you'd had to quickly lean back to avoid getting hit.
"Yes, Shoto and I are seeing one another." Despite the rude gesture, your voice was even and firm, leaving no room for doubt.
"What do you have to say for those people wondering what happened between yourself and Darkleaf? The public was rooting for you and was heartbroken to hear that the two of you had split up."
"My response is the same as it has been every time you’ve asked. Our reasons for separating are our own and not the business of the public or media."
If looks could kill, the reporter would have melted into the sidewalk. But instead of taking the clear hint and leaving, she pushed again.
"But you made such a cute pair! What could possibly have happened to break up such a happy couple? Surely you have regrets?"
The camera moved slightly to catch the profile of Morikawa in frame while she spoke. There was a somewhat sinister smirk on the journalist's face, her eyes shone like she'd somehow caught you in a lie or thought she'd won.
Something about her questions must have hit a nerve, because in the span of two heartbeats two massive wolves suddenly appeared at your sides. They were a bit smaller than the one Shoto had encountered in your living room, but no less intimidating as their hackles rose and lips pulled back to reveal the lethal canines housed behind them. The growls rumbling from Wicked Wolf were loud enough that the microphone picked it up from where it now lay on the ground.
Upon seeing your reaction, Shoto sent a private message to Okabe, hoping your longtime friend would be able to enlighten him on the situation. Their response hadn't been as helpful as he'd hoped. He did tell Shoto that it had been a nasty break-up that you had fought tooth and nail to keep out of the public's attention. When he tried to ask for more information, Okabe just told him he would need to ask you if he wanted the whole story.
After that, anytime he thought about you, it felt like his heart was constricting with worry. He'd counted you amongst his friends for some time now. Yet these last few weeks had him feeling more protective than before.
A week after Shoto took you to the aquarium, you'd invited him to attend a cooking class with you in Tokyo. When you were booking the event, there was a moment where you considered whether to reserve a private session or not - ultimately you decided against it. You'd wanted it to be a surprise, making sure you didn't tell him exactly where you were going or what you would be making - only assuring him that he was going to like it.
The train was quiet as you rode, soft music just loud enough to be heard over the subtle sounds of wind and the cars shifting weight. Thankfully it wasn't a terribly long ride, only about 45 minutes from Shizuoka to Tokyo. Conversation flowed easily between you, the two-toned hero even granting a few rare smiles. It was surprisingly easy - even though you'd only been spending time alone together recently, there was a sense of familiarity and comfort his presence seemed to offer.
By the time you stood outside the building the class was held at, you could see a bit of tension in Shoto's shoulders. Just as you had when you were out at the aquarium, the two of you had worn face-masks and he'd worn a hat, which made trying to read his mood more difficult than usual. But you'd like to think you were getting better at it.
So, instead of entering right away, you started walking down the sidewalk. There was still plenty of time before the class started and you didn't want to force him into something he wasn't comfortable with.
His long strides kept up with ease, his voice even and curious when he spoke, "Are we not going inside?"
"We will," you made sure to keep your tone light, hoping to reassure whatever worry had settled over him. "You just seemed a little hesitant. Is everything okay?"
The sole of his sneaker scuffed across the sidewalk when his steps faltered slightly, like your question caught him off-guard.
"My apologies. I hadn't meant to make you feel as though I'm not grateful. Cooking has just never been something I thought too much about."
You couldn't help the smile that spread beneath your mask, "That's ok. We don't have to go in if you don't want to."
Coming to a stop in a quieter part of the street, you turned to face him - tipping your head back slightly to be able to meet his eyes. You always forgot how tall he was.
"I was hoping to surprise you. You mentioned that soba is your favorite food, and that you'd started taking classes to make your own bowls and chopsticks." His eyes widened slightly beneath the bill of his hat. "So, I reached out to a friend and was able to get us into a class taught by the chairman of the Soba Preservation Association of Japan." (A/N: Yes, this is a real thing and an actual class you can book in Tokyo lol)
Shoto seemed frozen where he stood in front of you, even his breath seemed to stop when you told him what you'd be making.
When he didn't say anything, you continued, "He's gonna teach us a bit about the history of soba and then we will get to make our own noodles before making the rest of the dish."
The continued silence was making you nervous and you began to wonder if you overstepped. His love for soba was well-known - it was always his response when asked what his favorite food was. Before your thoughts could spiral too far, the sudden pressure of a hand wrapped around yours pulled you back.
"You booked this just because soba's my favorite?"
With the hat pulled low and mask covering half of his face, his expression was impossible to read. Even his voice was still his usual smooth monotone.
You gave him a little shrug - your hand still wrapped in his. "Yeah. I thought it would be fun and the fact that it's your favorite just seemed to make it better... I'm sorry if it’s too much though. We don't-"
"This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me," he cut you off before you could finish. Barely there, peeking just above the line of his mask, was the faintest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks.
The two of you returned to the building you’d initially approached - only this time, his hand was still holding yours.
You knew this was all part of the act. Hand holding had been one of the many 'allowed' physical touches you'd discussed when he visited your home. Yet, despite that, your heart refused to slow - hammering away against your ribs as if trying to leap from your chest. There was a warmth in his grip that you reminded yourself was certainly just from his Quirk.
The class was delightful. There were only a handful of other people present, which seemed to ease the remaining tension that lingered in Shoto's posture. The instructor was kind and informative, his enthusiasm and dedication to the history and creation of the dish was obvious and added a pleasant atmosphere to the otherwise fairly quiet room.
Conversation drifted from the other participants - the pair of you earning a few stares when you removed your covers after stepping inside. Outside of that though, you were largely left on your own, treated as any other attendee would be. It was refreshing, and so much fun.
By the time the class was ended and your stomachs were full of the food you'd prepared yourselves, there was no hiding the grin lighting up Shoto's face.
You leaned against the doorway after the others participants left with a soft smile on your face while you watched the instructor and Shoto chat enthusiastically. This was the most excitement you'd ever seen from him before. Throughout the class he'd been attentive, asking questions and ensuring he did each step perfectly. It was endearing, being able to watch him devote so much attention to something that wasn't hero work.
The two-toned hero's head fell forward as he chuckled softly at something the chef said. There was something about the unguarded openness of his expression that sent a little flutter of butterflies through you.
Shoto sat across from you on the train back, close enough he had to resist the urge to lean forward and reach across to where your hands rested atop the table. The event was wonderful. He'd enjoyed every moment of the soba class, still shocked to his core that you had done something so thoughtful - especially for what was supposed to be a fake date.
There was an unpleasant twist in his stomach at the reminder.
He held your hand again on the walk back to the station. It was a fairly warm night for mid-autumn so the pair decided to wander for a while, not really in a hurry for the evening to end. They chatted for a while about work, eventually falling into discussions of the various heroes either of them had worked with before.
It was refreshing, the ease with which conversation flowed with you. Shoto was used to being a bit awkward, not always knowing what to say or how to say something the 'right' way. But you never laughed at him, never corrected him unless he asked. Talking to you was simple.
The pair had almost made it back to the station when you decided to stop for something to drink. He paid, refusing to let you since you'd paid for the class. After getting your drinks, he led you to a little park across the street - finding a bench further from the street to sit down.
A soft quiet settled between them; the glow of the park light lit your face with a gentle warmth that made it impossible for him to look away. You were in the middle of a story about when you went on a hike with some friends as teenagers and how you used Wicked Wolf to scare them a little.
It was just as you finished, still chuckling to yourself when he reached forward - unable to stop himself. He felt your breath catch when his palm met your cheek, your skin smooth against his calloused hand. He didn't know what possessed him to do it, only that he wanted to touch. So lost in his own head, he didn't realize you were staring up at him until you spoke.
"Shoto? 'S everything okay?"
The sound of your voice snapped him back to reality. Clearing his throat to try and hide the embarrassment he was sure was evident on his face, he gently wiped his thumb across the apple of your cheek.
"Sorry. You- uh, you just had some flour there."
You'd laughed then, the sound making his heart race.
Now you were sitting across from him, masks set aside while they sat in comfortable silence. Thoughts raced through his mind so fast he could barely keep up. He wanted to ask about the interview he'd seen, but he was afraid if he did, it would ruin the evening you'd so carefully planned. Round and around his thoughts flew until you took pity on him and spoke.
"You look like there's something on your mind."
His eyes slid up to meet yours, the warmth in your gaze soothing some of his worry.
"I saw..." What did he even want to call it? It wasn't an interview; it was closer to an ambush honestly. "I saw the video. Of the journalist who stopped you outside your agency."
A heavy sigh escaped as you leaned back in your seat. His heart gave a painful squeeze when your shoulders drooped.
"Yeah. Heroes Observer, truly the trashiest media outlet I know of." He watched your hand lift to pinch the bridge of your nose, "They've been hounding me about Darkleaf ever since our break-up was made public."
"I don't mean to push, but can I ask what happened?" He paused, debating on whether to tell you he'd asked Okabe before deciding it was best to be honest from the start. "I did ask Okabe, but they only said it ended poorly."
With a groan, you let out a humorless laugh, "Poorly is one way to put it."
Leaning back as he listened, the concerned curiosity he'd initially held morphed into molten rage the more you spoke.
It turned out that Darkleaf wasn't just a lousy hero, but he was also a terrible person. How you'd managed to last two years with a serial cheater was a feat in itself. Yet somehow, the general populace and trash media outlets seem to be obsessed with him. Even though it's been over a year since you'd broken up, the gossip columns still hounded you for information.
Never him though.
When you finally finished, taking a shaky breath to steady yourself, Shoto reached out to grasp your hands. It was instinct this time, he could see how upset the whole situation made you and all he wanted to do was help.
Unsurprisingly, your second outing with Shoto was a trending topic by the next morning. Several people had taken pictures of the two of you walking through the city hand in hand and posted them to social media. One particularly lucky person managed to get a somewhat blurry photo of you and Shoto in the park, when he'd so gently touched your cheek.
'Flour.' The memory still made you laugh. Your PR team has been begging you to do an interview to address the relationship, but you've turned them down every time. Rather than give a firm reason, you told them "maybe after the Hero Awards." Thankfully that seemed to placate them for the time being.
Hero Observer had attempted to corner you again a few days after your soba dinner with Shoto. Fortunately, Okabe was with you at the time and his presence seemed to keep them at a distance for once.
Tonight would be the last time either of you would have a chance to go out together before the Hero Awards next weekend. So, you decided to ask Uraraka and Tsu if they would be interested in a 'double date.' The pair rarely got an opportunity to go out together when they didn't intentionally take the time off for it, so it was a happy coincidence that it lined up with Shoto and your nights off.
The restaurant the four of you were going to wasn't terribly fancy, but it was still nice enough to require a bit of effort. You made sure to dress nice, subtle make-up and quick style for your hair. It felt good, to get out of the house and see friends again, you hadn't been able to since the night of the awful press conference.
It had been a difficult task to peel your eyes away from the way Shoto's shirt hugged his thick chest. He'd dressed simply, black dress slacks and a deep blue button-down that seemed to make the dueling colors of his eyes pop. The jacket he'd worn was draped across the back of his chair, and as the evening had progressed, he'd cuffed his sleeves back until they rested just below his elbow - exposing the strong muscle of his forearms.
Tsu's laugh pulled you back to the present, Ochaco was leaning against her gently as they giggled. Movement from the corner of your eye brought your attention to the windows at the front of the building. A frown immediately formed when you noticed the handful of paparazzi who appeared to be waiting outside for the four of you to leave.
"You ever wonder if Eraserhead had the right idea in avoiding the media?"
Turning your gaze back to your friends, you saw Ochaco frown in the direction of the windows now too.
"It would be nice to be able to have a day where we didn't have to feel like our lives were on full display."
You nodded in agreement with Tsu, "I love the work we do, I just wish it didn't come with all of that."
The atmosphere was somber for a few minutes until Uraraka broke it, leaning forward conspiratorially with a grin on her face.
"Sooooo, how's the whole fake dating thing going?"
Beside you, Shoto huffed a small laugh but otherwise let you respond.
"Seems to be going okay so far," there was a brightness to your voice you hadn't expected. "My agency keeps trying to get me to agree to an interview. I told them to wait until after the Hero Awards."
"That's good though! You guys are going together, right? Hopefully once it's official," the brunette held her hands up to put air quotes around 'official'. "Then they might back off a little?"
"That's the hope!"
There was a strange simultaneous warmth in your chest as your stomach dropped. You weren't entirely sure why, only that the reminder of the relationship being fake didn't feel right. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, with conversation over dinner returning to brighter topics. Shoto seemed relaxed, a soft smile touching his lips for a majority of the night.
When it was time to leave the restaurant, Shoto offered you his jacket before stepping out the door. The garment swallowed you, almost feeling more like a child dressed in their parents’ clothes. However, the warm scent of his cologne and him that lingered had you relaxing into the welcome warmth.
The four of you were crowded as soon as you left the building, the flash of camera’s nearly blinding in the evening’s darkness.
Ochaco and Tsu had thankfully ordered a car before leaving, so they didn’t have to endure the paparazzi for long before freeing themselves.
Shoto had offered to drive you, though. Which meant you’d have a short walk before getting to the parking garage. He kept his hand at your back the whole time, keeping himself between you and the crowd as much as he could. They still tried asking questions, though the tone of them was different than when you were on your own.
“Shoto, how long have you been dating?” “Pack Leader, what did the two of you do in Tokyo? Do you have a favorite place in the city to visit?” “Will you be going to the Hero Awards together?” “What made you decide to date?”
Still personal, but not the invasive uncomfortable questions they usually tried to pressure you into answering.
Shoto had sent his driver to pick you up before stopping at his apartment. It was more economical that way since they would need to pass his place anyway on the way to the awards event. When the car pulled up to the front, he straightened his jacket - an unfamiliar feeling of nervousness fluttered in his stomach before he approached the dark sedan.
Shock flooded his system when he opened the door and caught sight of you within.
Deep teal fabric hugged your curves in all the right places, a slit up one leg revealed the smooth skin beneath and strappy black heel adorning your foot. Even seated you stole his breath in a way no one had before.
He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself for even a second before sliding in to sit beside you.
"Everything alright? Do you need water or something?"
There was worry in your tone, enough that it drew his gaze away from where his hands rested in his lap.
Beautiful wasn't the right word for the sight he beheld. Your makeup was done to perfection, hair upswept with a few small pieces down to frame your face. Delicate jewelry decorated your neck and ears adding to the vision without distracting from the rest of your ensemble.
Perfection was closer.
"Todoroki?"
It was only once you said his family name that he remembered you'd asked him a question.
"Hmm, yes. I'm fine. Thank you."
You gave him a soft smile, "Alright."
Silence settled over the two of them, heavy in the space between, but not uncomfortable. The car pulled smoothly into the line leading to the venue entry. Already he could see the flash of cameras and make out the muffled wave of voices. He didn't used to hate the attention. Now though, after seeing and fully comprehending everything you and his other friends had to endure from because of it – he was starting to hate it.
Finally, his car was next, rolling smoothly to a stop - Shoto waited for the driver to open the door before stepping out.
The roar of interviewers and paparazzi flooded the previously quiet interior.
"Shoto! Shoto! How's life as the No 2 Hero?" "Any news on your father?! How's Endeavor handling retirement?!" "Shoto! What's it like working with Dynamight?!" “Can you give us any insight into your relationship with-“
On and on their voices droned, overlapping with one another until they became a dull buzz at the back of his head. It was only once he stepped fully out and turned around, blocking their view of you within, that he extended his hand to help you out.
There was a power in your grip that spoke to years of dedication and unwavering passion.
Instead of the crowd falling to silence as they should have when confronted with the pair of powerful pro heroes, their voices rose. Questions shot through the air faster than he could register them - not that he was listening. His attention was solely focused on you.
You'd been at the Hero Awards for just over an hour - the actual award ceremony wasn't going to happen for at least another hour after that and you were already tired of being here. Of course, the media had been a nightmare from the moment you stepped out of Shoto's car, but that was expected. He offered his arm to you immediately, and his solid strength beside you was far more reassuring than you expected it to be. You stopped only once for pictures on the way in, where you took the opportunity to place a soft kiss on Shoto's cheek.
The roar that followed was almost deafening with the number of people trying to shout over each other to get either of your attention.
Through it all, Shoto was a steady presence at your side. Even once you'd made it into the venue and out of the media's view, he remained beside you. Occasionally you'd feel the warm press of his hand at your lower back when someone got a little too close as they walked past. He never commented, never said a word, making the action seem almost instinctual.
Tsu and Uraraka were the first of your group to find you, the two heroes' dresses complimenting each other perfectly.
Inasa was the next to join, his loud voice and boisterous laugh drawing eyes from around the room every time he spoke. Thankfully, you were used to his volume - after three years of school together and remaining close friends even after graduation, his presence was more of a comfort than an irritation anymore.
You were in the middle of reminiscing over your school days when movement caught your attention.
A familiar pair of dark yellow eyes met your own when you glanced up. Nausea turned your stomach as your heart began to pound. Quickly returning your attention to the people in front of you, you threw on a pleasant smile trying to forget about the eyes you still felt watching you.
Eventually, Ochaco was pulled away by Midoriya to catch up with another friend they hadn't seen in a while. Tsu followed a few minutes later with a fond laugh when she saw her partner excitedly waving her over. Okabe wandered over at one point to chat before pulling Yoarashi away to speak with a commission officer.
Taking a sip from the drink you'd snagged from one of the many servers dotting the hall, you carefully scanned the room.
"IcyHot!"
Beside you, you felt Todoroki turn in the direction of Bakugo's voice. The explosive hero was hard to miss, even when he wasn't blowing something up.
"I'll be back in a moment."
"Go, see your friends. I'm fine," you gave his shoulder a friendly pat as he stepped away.
Rather than stand around waiting, you decided to head for the bar near the back of the spacious room. Various friends and acquaintances stopped you along the way, congratulating you on the new rank or asking about life and missions. It was nice to have the opportunity to catch up with people you didn't get to see often. As Pros, your schedules were always so busy, it was hard to make the time when you worked so much.
You'd just gotten a drink from the bar, the glass cool in your fingers when a voice you'd been dreading spoke beside you.
"What? Not even gonna say hi now?"
Pro Hero Darkleaf, your ex-boyfriend stood not too far away, the dark yellow of his eyes looking almost like molten gold in the light.
"I have nothing to say to you. Excuse me," you tried to push past him, intent on heading to where you'd last seen your friends, when he grabbed your elbow.
"Aww, c'mon baby. You can't tell me that two-toned refrigerator takes better care of you than I did."
His fingers dug into the flesh of your arm, almost enough to hurt, but not quite.
"Let go. Before I remind you why I have the rank I do," he'd always been too big for his britches. After over a year apart, you wondered what you'd ever seen in him.
At your words he began pulling you off to the side, away from the more crowded areas of the room.
"Are you fuckin' serious right now?!" Once he had you off to one side, he practically threw your arm away from him. "I made a mistake, okay? Why can't you just move on and let things go back to the way they were."
It was always the same excuses. I made a mistake. It won't happen again. She came onto me, what was I supposed to do?
When you didn't respond, he tried again. "Please baby. I miss you. I still love you. Let's just... try again."
His hand reached forward to touch your face. Immediately taking a step back, you shook your head, "No. Let it go. Let me go. I'm done. If you loved me so much you wouldn't have cheated."
Turning to leave, you only took one stop before his hand was on you again, pulling you back.
"I'm not done, bitch!" He hissed the words out through clench teeth, "You don't get to walk away until I-"
"Until you what?"
Shoto wasn't worried at first, you're a grown woman who knows how to take care of herself. But when you'd hadn't come back after several minutes, and he couldn't see you in the mass of smart suits and elegant gowns, his mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario. Despite his size, he easily worked his way through the crowd to the various members of the friend group - hoping someone had seen you.
Kirishima last saw you talking to Tokoyami, who had last seen you laughing beside Midoriya, who swore he saw you chatting with Okabe and Utsushimi. When he finally tracked down Okabe, your longtime friend looked concerned when Shoto informed him he couldn't find you.
Breaking off from his conversation with Camie, Okabe told him that you'd gone to the bar for a drink.
With a nod, Shoto headed that direction while Okabe gathered a couple of others to hopefully find you. You aren't the kind of person to disappear without telling anyone.
Worry gnawed at his belly the longer it took to find you. He was about ready to recruit a few more people when he caught two shadows tucked into a dark alcove near the back of the room. Normally, he would have ignored it - a lot of people sneak off during events like these, when emotions and booze are flowing freely.
But this was different, the light just caught the way the man held someone's arm a bit too tight. His shadow looming over the other person in a menacing gesture.
He'd just rounded the corner when voices finally reached his ear - low, aggressive, and clearly trying not to draw attention.
"-it go. Let me go. I'm done. If you loved me so much you wouldn't have cheated."
Your voice registered immediately - frustration, indignation, and a trace of fear colored your tone ignited a fire in his own blood.
"I'm not done, bitch! You don't get to walk away until I-"
"Until you what?"
Shoto interrupted as he emerged from the shadow behind you, his large frame coming into view just as Darkleaf was about to dig himself deeper into a grave the two-toned hero was more than happy to help him into.
He saw your shoulders drop in relief - noted the ever-so-faint light at the tips of your fingers that indicated you were seconds from unleashing your Quirk.
"This is a private conversation, Todoroki. Move along."
A dangerous smirk formed on Shoto's lips as he looked down at the man harassing you. He knew he was big, knew there was a level of intimidation from his size alone. He also knew that he wasn't the No 2 Pro for no reason - a fact Darkleaf seemed to understand based on the slight tremble in his hands as he glared up at him.
"I believe she said no. I would suggest you listen when a lady makes it abundantly clear how uninterested she is."
He was fighting to keep control of his Quirk too, the anger burning in his chest threatening to burst free as smoke drifted from his clenched fist.
Stepping to the side, you turned to look up at him with wide eyes full of gratitude.
"Tch. Whatever. Bitch isn't worth the effort anyway."
Just as he turned to walk away, three more figures stepped out from the shadows near where they'd come in at.
"Darkleaf! So good to see you!" Sarcasm dripped from Midoriya like venom as he threw one arm over Darkleaf's shoulders. Shifting to fall in behind the pair, Okabe and Tokoyami followed as the green-haired hero led him away, "Ya know, Dynamight and Gale Force were looking for you..."
When the four men disappeared into the crowd, Shoto gently gripped your upper arms, ducking slightly to be able to meet your eyes.
"Are you alright?" He couldn't wouldn't acknowledge why his heart was racing as he looked you over for injuries.
"I'm okay Shoto, thank you."
His movements stilled when you rested your hand against his chest. Warmth bloomed beneath your touch, slowly rising to touch his cheeks.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. He's a prick but he wouldn't have won that fight, even if you hadn't stepped in," you gave a half-hearted laugh, the humor not quite reaching your eyes.
Shoto huffed a laugh, "No, he certainly would not have."
Extending his elbow once more, you looped your arm through his, leaning into him just a bit more than you had earlier. He tried desperately to ignore the way his stomach fluttered at the realization.
"How did you ever date someone who couldn't even break the top 100?"
You laughed at his poor attempt to lighten the mood - a flush rising to his cheeks again. It was a sound he’d never get tired of hearing.
Three days later, your PR team somehow convinced you to agree to an interview. The internet had been in an uproar after you and Shoto attended the Hero Awards together - a majority of which were incredibly supportive, with a very vocal minority expressing their displeasure. You hadn't wanted to do this interview, it was a bad idea and you knew it. Even if your team assured you that the host would behave, you knew that would only last so long - especially considering this was the same network that hosted Hero Observer.
Before you agreed, you reached out to Shoto, wanting to make sure he was alright with you agreeing. You both knew that regardless of what the station claimed the reason for the request was, there would inevitably be questions surrounding your relationship.
"I don't mind," his smooth monotone came through the speaker with ease, no hesitation whatsoever. "This is part of the reason we agreed to do this, so do what you need to."
A shaky breath left you - the microphone must have picked it up better than you expected because before you could reply he spoke again.
“You don't have to do it though. You don't owe anyone anything, you know?"
"I know. Thank you, Sho." The nickname slipped out before you realized what you said. From the other end of the line, you heard a sharp intake of breath but he otherwise didn't acknowledge it.
"Let me know how it goes. Hopefully they're respectful."
The brief conversation kept replaying in your head as you anxiously waited for your cue to join the host on set. You'd been trying to ignore the way his breath made your heart stutter - tried to forget the way his calm presence during the spat with Darkleaf had soothed your nerves so easily. It was getting harder and harder to pretend.
A PA off to your left stepped forward, giving you a quick smile as they gestured for you to step out.
The cheer from the studio audience was nearly deafening, bright smiles lighting up their faces as you walked out with a soft wave. Rising from her chair, the host Usami Rin, stepped forward to shake your hand as she thanked you for coming. You gave her a tight-lipped smile, trying desperately to calm your racing heart – thankful for the media training all heroes underwent during school.
It wasn't the public speaking aspect that had you nervous. Rather, it was the knowledge that you could count on one hand the number of times these interviews hadn't turned into an opportunity to corner you for personal information.
"Welcome to Hero Talk Zone, Pro Hero Pack Leader!" The host's voice boomed through the air of the studio, drawing another cheer from the audience as the two of you found your seats.
"Thank you for having me, Usami-san."
The older woman let out a quick laugh as she raised her hand as if to wave away your words, "Please, Rin is just fine!"
You gave her a polite nod in response, trying to relax into the couch beneath you.
"You are notoriously hard to get ahold of Pack Leader," the host gave another half-hearted chuckle. "But now that you're here, we have sooo much we'd love to chat with you about."
A pit had already formed in your stomach when you nodded to her, "I'm happy to be here."
"Glad to hear it! How about we start with the easy stuff, hmm?"
True to her word, Rin began by asking you about your early life: had you always wanted to be a hero, what made you decide, did you apply to UA as well as Shiketsu? You answered her honestly, telling her about the heroes who inspired you as a child, and what made you realize that your Quirk in particular could be incredibly useful.
The deciding moment had been when you were still fairly young, around 11. A boy in your class had gone missing, you and Wicked Wolf ignored the warnings from teachers and Pros, and followed the boys’ scent deep into the forest behind the school. Had you not been there, it would have been hours or even days before he'd been found - if at all. He'd fallen and broken his leg, unable to get himself to safety.
When it seemed like her inquiries were finally coming to a close, you were feeling a bit more relaxed. She had been respectful so far, though it wasn't enough to lull you into feeling safe.
"Pack Leader, I can't thank you enough for taking the time to talk with us about all of this. We have just a few questions left," reaching to the table beside her, Rin picked up a small stack of what looked like slightly oversized flash cards. "We were able to have some of our viewers submit questions in preparation for your appearance!"
Another excited cheer from the audience sent a chill down your spine.
"We'll finish up with a few of those!"
You took a deep breath, bracing for what was to come. This wasn't the first time a host had tried to cover up their own digging by framing invasive questions as 'from the audience.'
"First up! Do you follow a specific diet and workout routine to maintain your figure, despite working such a physically demanding job?"
It took every ounce of self-control not to roll your eyes. You hated these kinds of questions.
"No. As they stated, my profession is very physically demanding. I ensure to eat nutritiously when I am able, and any workouts are almost always in service to maintaining my ability to perform my job to the best of my ability."
You tried so hard to keep the irritation out of your tone - it wasn't what the person was actually asking. They wanted to know how you 'kept such an attractive' figure, rather than how your diet and exercise actually helped in being a hero.
"Fair enough," Rin laughed, flipping to the next card. "Oooo, here's a good one! Pack Leader and Pro Hero Shoto attended the Hero Awards together. Did they go home together? Did he give her an 'award' of his own after??"
The studio fell silent as the host finished her question. Her previously pleasant smile slipped just a bit to let a pleased smirk show.
"Shoto and I did attend the Hero Awards together, as a couple. What we choose or do not choose to do in our free time is our own business," it was close to the same response you tried to give anytime people pushed for more.
"Oh, please Pack Leader! Surely you can give us something? It wasn’t that long ago you were insisting the two of you were nothing more than friends. What changed?" Rin leaned forward, the faux-plead in her voice grated against your nerves.
"Shoto is a kind and compassionate person, something I learned when we first became friends as young heroes just out of high school. Those qualities are also what make him a good partner."
A quiet 'aww' made its way through the audience at your response - a smattering of applause following.
You waited for the noise to die down before continuing, “We simply realized what we felt for one another went beyond that of mere friendship and decided to see if there was more there. He’s been nothing but a gentleman.”
It hit you, in that moment, that you weren’t exactly lying. What had started as a friend trying to help another had shifted - at least it had for you.
"Of course, we would expect nothing less from the No 2 Pro."
Usami paused, her eyes narrowing just enough for you to notice as her face shifted to a sinister smile she didn't try to hide this time.
"Last question then. Most of us are aware of your break-up with Darkleaf last year," her eyes seemed to gleam with dark intent. She didn't even bother to look at the cards in her hands to keep up the pretense, "Rumor has it that the two of you had a little 'reunion' of your own at the Hero Awards."
The screen behind the two of you changed from the background it usually displayed to show a somewhat fuzzy, blown-up image of the confrontation with your ex. Given the angle the picture was taken from, and the way Darkleaf seemed to lean over you with one hand extended toward your face, it was no surprise this was the picture they would use to spark some kind of controversy.
The thrum of your heart seemed to echo in your chest as the argument replayed in your head: the way he'd tried to control you through force, the names he'd called you, and the way his half-assed apology was just like every pathetic excuse he'd given during your relationship.
"You two are looking pretty cozy here, Pack Leader. What would Shoto think? Does he know you were having a rather intimate conversation with an ex-partner at the same event he brought you to?"
Before you had a chance to respond, a sharp voice cut through the studio, "That's enough!"
Relief flooded you when Nanba Aritoki, your new head of PR stepped out from behind the camera crew. He was dressed in a simple, well-tailored suit, with a severe expression on his face.
"You were expressly told any questions regarding previous relationships were off-limits. You have violated the contract you signed. This interview is over!"
Smoke was still rising in thick clouds from the smoldering remains of the building behind him. Shoto was exhausted, covered in soot and sweat - ash clung to his costume so thickly that he wasn't sure the suit was actually going to be salvageable this time.
The attack had been brutal, a small group of villains decided to attack a business situated on the first level of a multi-story building. The main floor was mostly a handful of small businesses, but the seven or eight floors above that were all residential. Fortunately, the attack hadn't happened in the middle of the night, but it was still late enough for most of the residents to be home.
Numerous Pros had been called in from the surrounding areas to help contain the fighting and evacuate the burning building.
They got lucky. That's all there was to it. If even a single hero that showed hadn't - there would have been casualties and the villains might have escaped.
Mt. Lady was speaking to one of the reporters who had been let in now that the worst was finished and only clean up remained. Shoto reached up to wipe at the sweat dripping down his forehead, only to leave behind another dark smear of the grime still thick on his hands.
"Shoto!"
The unfamiliar voice pulled his attention away from the medic who was wrapping a bandage around his forearm. Walking calmly in his direction was another reporter, the camera operator followed close behind.
"That's enough. Thank you."
The soft dismissal made the healer nod before she moved on to the next person.
"Sanjo Yukisue, Shizuoka Evening News," the man bowed when Shoto met him halfway. "Do you have time for a few questions regarding the attack and rescue effort?"
With a nod, Shoto relaxed his stance some. Over the years he'd gotten more comfortable with these interviews. He still wasn't entirely at ease, but his friends told him he was doing better.
"Shoto, you did incredible work out there tonight. Can you tell us what happened?"
"I just did my job," Shoto gave a slight nod of thanks as he replied. "I don't have all the details since I came in from a different zone to assist. However, we were able to evacuate the building and all of the villains have been apprehended."
He answered a couple more questions with what information he was able to. Though he was tired to his bones, Shoto had not originally intended to cut the interview short until he caught sight of a familiar gossip channel journalist.
Shoto sat down that afternoon, fresh out of the shower and ready to sleep after his early patrol shift. He was reaching for his phone to ask you how it went when your name lit up his screen. A little smile played on his lips, and he tried to ignore the way his heart beat just a little faster knowing you were the one to reach out first today. The brief moment of excitement quickly turned to worry at the tone of your texts.
Your messages were shorter than usual; they didn't have the same light cadence you usually had when texting him. The frown on his face deepened when you explained how the interview went and the awkward atmosphere the final few questions brought to the studio. He was about to reply when your final messages came through.
Pack Leader <3: That's not even the worst part though.
I don't know where they got it from. But they had a picture from the awards event, Sho.
One of Darkleaf and I. It looks so bad. Nanba-san stepped in and cut the interview short. But I have a feeling the network will air the whole thing anyway. Gives them more drama and still makes me look unstable 😪
Me: I'm coming over.
Barely taking enough time to throw on a clean shirt and jacket, Shoto made it to your house in less than 30 minutes. He'd only just knocked when you opened the door and ushered him in.
Once inside, he immediately noticed that rather than the one Wicked Wolf manifestation you usually had, all six were present. Each about the size of a large shepherd dog, Shoto would guess they'd be somewhere around 80-100 pounds each. They all looked just a bit different from each other, whether it was their coloring or coat pattern.
Only one looked the same as he'd seen before, just barely larger than the others with familiar intelligent eyes, Wicked Wolf gazed at him with an understanding that far surpassed that of a normal animal. Standing here now, he understood why you and Tokoyami had become so close. Both of your Quirks were entities all their own that just happened to be connected to you.
When he finally peeled his gaze away from the cuddle puddle of your Quirks manifestations, he directed his attention completely to you.
You looked exhausted - red lined your eyes, a barely-there puffiness gave away the fact that'd you'd been crying. That knowledge made his chest ache. He desperately wanted to pull you close and hold you, reassure you that everything would be alright.
Instead, you took a step back and wrapped your arms around yourself, like you were trying desperately to hold yourself together.
"I'm sorry I got you into this mess, Todoroki."
The use of his family name hurt more than he cared to think about.
"You have nothing to apologize for. I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner. If I had been then they wouldn't have had anything to try to use against you."
He watched you shake your head; defeat lined every muscle in your body - as if you'd finally given up. Without thinking, Shoto stepped forward, slow and with enough tenderness that you could have easily stopped him if you wanted to, and pulled you into his arms. The sound of his heart hammering in his ears drowned out almost everything else when you finally relaxed and wrapped your arms around him - burying your face in his chest.
One thought flashed through his mind before he pushed it away: how long was he going to be able to keep pretending?
"...oto? Shoto, is everything alright?"
The reporter was looking at him with concern, the camera operator behind him had the lens angled toward the ground in an effort to give the hero a bit of privacy.
"Actually, no."
His response in combination with the unusual intensity of his tone must have caught them off-guard. Without explaining himself, Shoto gave them a quick bow before he marched across the debris littered street in the direction of Morikawa Sako. If she was so intent on springing unexpected interviews on people, then he had an exclusive he didn't want her to miss.
As he approached, many of the journalists still stuck behind the police line began calling out to him, shouting questions over top of each other in an effort to get him to respond.
Morikawa noticed his approach and smirked when she realized he was heading in her direction. He saw and let her arrogance fan the rage burning behind his ribs.
"Pro Hero Shoto! Can you comment on the situation here? What happened?"
She held the microphone across the barrier when he stopped in front of her.
"Listen close, I'll only tell you this once."
Pulling the mic from her grip, her eyes went wide at the intensity in his eyes. Several others nearby held their own microphones and recording devices forward, hoping to catch whatever he was about to say.
"You should be ashamed of yourselves." The growl in his voice had the crowd falling silent in shock and perhaps a bit of fear. "We are out here every day risking our lives to protect you. Yet for some reason, you think that allows you to ask for answers you have no right to."
He watched Morikawa swallow - the movement was slow, as if something was lodged in her throat.
"Next time you decide to dig a little too deep just to satisfy some twisted need for scandal, remember how we secured the rankings we have, and reflect."
Three days since your interview that had been cut short, and two days since Shoto's very public call-out, and your mind was still reeling. You hadn't expected him to show up at your home after you told him what happened, and you certainly didn't have the heart to push him away when his arms had held you so close. He hadn't stayed very long, insisting he only stopped by to make sure you were alright.
Warmth bloomed in your chest, sending butterflies to your stomach that you were hard-pressed to ignore. There had been a change over the last few weeks - you'd grown closer and finally let yourself acknowledge how much you enjoyed his company.
That night, you'd watched the interview as it aired, bundled up on the couch with Wicked Wolf's head in your lap. The other manifestations were huddled around you too, their weight and presence offering that familiar reassurance it always had. Surprisingly, the network had left in the part of the recording where your PR manager stepped in and revealed how they'd broken their contract.
Because of that, it wasn't too much of a surprise when you woke up the next morning to see Usami Rin had been fired. More stories of the former host began to flood social media of her poor treatment and ambush tactics. It was more satisfying than you expected it to be.
What had been a surprise was after you returned home late from patrol and flipped on the news, only to see Shoto's anger on full display as he laid into Morikawa Sako.
Even now, in the middle of combat, you kept seeing his face.
"On your right!"
On instinct you rolled out of the way, springing to your feet as soon as the dodge was complete. Further to your left, a copy of Wicked Wolf was fighting alongside Red Riot against a villain who seemed to have mental control over the mech-suit he hid within.
Redirecting your attention to the fight in front of you, the rumbling growl of your Quirk echoed from beside you - ready to pounce on your command.
To your right, Pro Hero Emily had a number of objects hovering around her to act as a shield against the onslaught of attacks sent her way. Directing Wicked Wolf to flank the villain, you spoke quickly into your earpiece.
"Thanks for the warning."
A spear of concrete slammed into your arm as you raised it to block the attack, shards of it biting into your skin with enough force to make you grit your teeth against the pain.
"On my signal, send out your attacks."
The silver haired hero gave you a nod, her attention focused on guarding as she readied her attacks.
An image flashed through your mind for less than a heartbeat, the view from where Wicked Wolf now lurked, waiting for her chance to strike.
"Now!"
With a grunt of effort, Yanagi launched a majority of the hovering objects toward the villain at the same moment Wicked Wolf leapt in from the other side.
Forcing the enemy to go on the defensive - his attention was now split between the incoming projectiles and Wicked Wolf.
Using his distraction to your advantage, you raced forward, dropping to your knees in a slide to dodge a wide swing. Springing up quickly, barely losing momentum - you couldn't stop the grin as the villain let out a shout of pain when Wicked Wolf clamped her jaws around one of his arms.
"Drop it!"
A harsh snarl ripped from the wolf's broad chest as she released his dripping arm. The villain didn't have time to dodge before you were on him, heart hammering when you ducked a wild swing, only to have your fist connect just below his sternum.
Air rushed from his lungs as he dropped to one knee.
Just before you had a chance to deliver the final blow and knock him out, the ground beneath you erupted as another spear of stone shot upward - slicing through the meat of your calf.
Gritting your teeth against the pain, you let out a hiss before striking just below his ear at the jawline.
His eyes rolled back as he collapsed in a heap.
Your heart was pounding, the throb of it echoed in the pulsing of your injuries.
"Are you okay?!"
Emily ran toward you, Quirk-cancelling cuffs in hand. Gritting your teeth, you gave her a sharp nod before you pulled bandages from the pouch on your belt.
The wounds were serious, they would definitely need stitches, but you couldn't stop now. There were too many villains still up and fighting.
You tied off the bandage on your leg, the pressure already easing the pain - though you knew that would wear off once the adrenaline was out of your system.
After securing the villain, Yanagi rushed to you, taking the bandage from your bloody hand to wrap your arm.
"Are you good to keep an eye on him? Get him to the police?" You nodded toward the unconscious villain.
"Of course. But you should find a medic, those injuries are bad."
You stretched your neck, the bones popping as some of the tension was released.
"Can't stop now, still too much work to do."
Just then, your earpieces crackled to life.
"This is Nejire Chan, we need back-up!"
With a grim smile you looked back to the silver-haired pro beside you, "Gotta go."
You took off at a sprint, heading in the direction you could still hear combat echoing from. As you were nearing Red Riot's location you heard his shout cut through the din.
"He's down!"
Thanking whatever higher powers there might be, you summoned Wicked Wolf back to you - channeling the split energy back into the primary manifestation loping easily at your side. From the corner of your eye, you could see her return to her full size. Her head now level with your chest, tongue hanging out the side of her bloodstained muzzle. The joy in her eyes mirrored the determination in yours.
You grinned as you spoke, "Ready for more?"
Shoto was exhausted. Somehow a group of fairly powerful villains had managed to elude the Commission’s radar until they showed up in the middle of the city just a couple hours ago. The moment their attack began, buildings started to collapse. He didn't know who they were, but they had some very powerful Quirk users amongst them.
He'd been on patrol with Nejire Chan when the heroes in this zone called for help. Fortunately, they were close enough to be the second team to arrive on scene. Unfortunately, there hadn't been a lot of time to try and get the area evacuated.
Loss was something every hero had to accept; it was part of the job - but that didn't make it easier.
Now, in the middle of combat, their hands were tied while they protected civilians as they tried to apprehend the villains.
The group had split up before Shoto arrived on scene, so he had no idea how many of them there were. But the three in front of him were enough of a problem that he didn't have time to worry about it.
A wall to Shoto's right exploded outward as the shadow form of a massive ram crashed through it, raining debris across the battlefield. If he wasn't so familiar with Tokoyami and your Quirks, the beast might have unsettled him. Instead, he saw something he doubted many others would notice.
The creature had no mind of its own. It could only do as directed, which meant the user would be forced to split their attention between the Quirk and their own surroundings.
Before he could act on that knowledge, dark energy flashed through the ground at his feet sending a flash of pain through him - sharp enough it nearly brought him to his knees.
That one was starting to get on his nerves.
Throwing up a quick shield of ice between himself and the charging ram, Shoto managed to get his body back under control in time to hear Nejire let out a sharp cry of pain.
To his left, the bubbly hero plummeted to the ground, a thin spike of ice impaling her abdomen.
A ramp of his own frozen power instantly formed beneath her, catching her in a slide to deposit her more gently to the ground.
"Thanks!" Her word of gratitude was laced with pain, blood slowly seeping from the wound.
"You need to get off the field."
It wasn't a command, Shoto would never dream of giving someone an order. But if she continued to fight like that there was no telling the long-term damage that could be done.
Instead of responding, his earpiece crackled to life, "This is Nejire Chan, we need back-up!"
Less than 30 seconds later, as Shoto was unleashing a gout of flame at the villain with an ice Quirk similar to his own, he heard it.
Cutting through the crackle of flame and low groan of structures collapsing under their own weight, a howl split the air.
Still distant, still far enough that they would need a few more minutes before you got here - but close enough that he didn't stop the dark smile that split his lips.
"What's with the smile, hero? Did you finally realize it was time to give up?!"
A shield of ice formed around his arm as Shoto sidestepped the charging ram. The shield did its job, protecting him from the worst of the glancing blow.
Rather than respond, he quickly looked to Nejire Chan, "Think you can hold on for another minute?"
She was a bit pale, sweat shone across her forehead, but a determined scowl furrowed her brow as she let out another attack toward the villain with the dark electrical Quirk.
"Of course!"
For the next minute, the pair fought hard. They were outnumbered, but evenly matched. When they could get in the air, it was harder for the electrical attacks to hit them. But it also left them vulnerable to the glacial spikes that could be launched in massive waves, as well as the shadow ram that didn't seem to need solid ground to move about.
Movement from the corner of his eye drew his attention - a flash of soft grey-blue, the nearly imperceptible crunch of running feet.
Then you appeared.
Throwing yourself over the crumpled remains of a wall, you moved with smooth efficiency, not a single motion wasted. Before your feet touched the ground, the massive form of Wicked Wolf easily cleared the debris with a lazy leap. He saw you turn your head slightly toward your Quirk, your mouth moving with an order he couldn't hear.
Just like that the powerful form of Wicked Wolf quickly outpaced you, her long stride eating away the distance between her and her target. A terrified shout echoed from the direction the wolf disappeared in.
Your voice came through the ear piece, breathless but steady, "Red Riot's not far behind!"
Another flash of dark energy through the ground in your direction forced Shoto's attention back to the assailant in front of him.
Blows were traded with almost blinding speed. Fire and ice clashed against glacial shields and the shadowed ram. The occasional jolt of dark lightning would race through the ground, immobilizing at least one of the heroes every time it did – though the pulses were less frequent now.
At least, he assumed it was immobilizing someone - but he hadn't seen you since you first appeared on the battlefield. Worry made his chest tight. He knew you could handle yourself, but he also knew you were like the rest of them - ready to sacrifice yourself to protect someone else.
A sudden snarl ripped through the air behind him as Wicked Wolf leapt by him, her heavy paws hitting the earth with a thundering rhythm.
What he hadn't been able to see passed the blood dripping into his eye, was the electricity wielding villain that had managed to sneak up to flank him. Shoto could just make out a handful of what appeared to be bite marks scattered across his body before the enormous form of Wicked Wolf blocked most of his view.
The enemy had no time to react as the wolf's jaws clamped down on his upper arm, the resounding crack of bone echoed through the air just as a scream tore from his lips.
One down.
It didn't take long once the electrical villain was out of the picture, for the other two to falter. The pain in your arm and leg screamed with every movement, but you pushed it down - focusing on the task at hand.
Nejire Chan had finally retreated when Red Riot showed up - his sharp toothed grin spread wide as he blocked an attack aimed at the vulnerable hero.
Another barrage of glacial spikes rained down in your direction, forcing you to duck behind a wall for cover - you weren't keen on getting stabbed again.
The familiar thud of heavy paws greeted you when you reemerged, Wicked Wolf's presence immediately easing some of the tension in your chest. You were strong, and so was she, but the fighting had been going for so long that even the two of you were starting to struggle. A slight tremble in your fingers had you clenching your fists as you rounded on the shadow wielder.
He'd managed to stay mostly off the main battlefield, which meant it had been a pain to find him. Thanks to your Quirks keen nose though, you tracked him down. You allowed him one attempted attack with his mindless creature - cocking your head in mock sympathy when he realized just how out-matched he was by you and Wicked Wolf.
15 minutes later, you were sitting propped up against a partially collapsed wall, breathing heavy as you tried to recover enough strength to walk to the medical tents. Wicked Wolf lounged on the ground beside you, her own breaths ragged.
The crunch of boots had your eyes flicking open to behold a familiar heterochromatic gaze.
Shoto had blood dripping past his right eye and down his cheek, scrapes and bruises showed through the tears in his uniform - but what held your focus was the look on his face.
His eyes shone with an emotion you couldn't place while a frown pulled the corners of his mouth down.
"What's wrong?"
You noticed the way his eyes dropped to your blood-soaked bandages.
"You're hurt."
There was no point in lying, he could see the damage.
"Yeah. But I'll be fine, just resting for a minute before I go to the medics," you tried to keep your tone light. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off though, the pain was starting to take over again.
"Can you stand?"
You huffed a tired laugh, "Probably?" You hadn't tried since you sat down.
Before you knew what was happening, Shoto stooped, one arm sliding beneath your knees while the other wrapped around your back. A surprised squeak escaped you as he stood, the strong warmth of his arms held you with care.
He carried you in silence for a few minutes, carefully making his way across the debris strewn battlefield.
"You worried me," his voice was so soft you almost missed it.
"What?" The quiet admission had your heart racing for an entirely different reason now.
"I saw Wicked Wolf, so at least I knew you were alive. But when I couldn't find you..."
He trailed off, bicolored eyes meeting yours for a heartbeat before they looked away, a flush coloring his cheeks.
"I didn't mean to worry you," a touch of humor colored your tone.
A comfortable silence fell over you again. Every once in a while, his pace would stumble on the uneven ground, inadvertently sending a flash of pain through your injuries. His eyes would immediately drop to you when you winced, assessing your injuries with a practiced gaze.
The medical tents came into view, as well as the police line packed with media and civilians alike.
His steps slowed, you looked up to find him already gazing down at you. There was a seriousness in his eyes you couldn't place.
"Sho? What's wrong?"
The tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips just before his throat bobbed as he swallowed. You tried to be patient, but his silence had your heartrate picking back up.
"I don't want it to be fake."
If you'd been standing on your own, your knees would have given out at his quiet confession. The thundering of your heart ticked up a notch, nearly drowning out the worried questions from the medical staff now rushing toward you.
He didn't leave your side while they worked to stitch your wounds - offering his hand when he noticed how hard you were clenching your jaw with every pass of the needle. Heavy silence hung between you as the healers worked to clean and bandage the worst of both of your wounds.
Until finally, you were cleared to leave.
Standing outside the medical tent, you caught Shoto's wrist before he could walk away. Swallowing passed the lump in your throat; you spoke before you could talk yourself out of it.
"I don't want it to be fake either."
His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, a faint flush rising to color his cheeks again.
"Can I kiss you?"
You were both exhausted, covered in sweat and dirt - yet he looked at you like you were the most beautiful person in the world.
"I'd like that."
He quickly closed the distance, one hand finding its home firmly at the small of your back. While the other came up to gently hold the back of your head - strong fingers threading through the hair at your nape.
Your mouth met his in a desperately tender kiss. His lips were firm and warm, pressing against yours with so much passion it took your breath away.
Distantly, you could hear the sound of camera shutters and the indistinct murmur of voices. But you didn't care.
Your hands drifted up to loop around his neck, pulling him closer as you deepened the kiss. Heat and ardent joy coursed through you as your lips moved against his.
Eventually you were forced to break apart simply to catch your breath. He didn't let you go far though, pressing his forehead to yours as the heat of your breaths mingled between you. Every part of your body seemed to tingle under his touch.
He pressed one more soft kiss to your lips, untangling his fingers from your hair to let his hand drift down your back and hold you close.
You rested your head against his chest, the solid beat of his heart soothing after the chaos of the battle you'd come from.
Dipping to kiss the top of your head, you felt him clear his throat before he spoke softly against your hair, "Can I take you on a real date now?"
A/N: Thank you for being patient as I got this out! I actually started writing this, got like halfway through my original idea and then started over because I hated it. I like this one way more... and it ended up being MUCH longer than I originally intended. Thanks for making it all the way to the end!
Taglist: @lanai2
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