» › multi-fandom. selfshipper, yapper, your local chaos demon who occasionally writes stuff. follows + interacts from a main blog. remade, previously deathbynini. girl with the opinions. this blog runs on queue. please read my byf!
i wanna play a music game again but this time a little smaller. so send me a 🎧 and a brief description of the vibe you’re looking for and i’ll assign you a song from my liked songs! can be anything from selfship to just something you’re feeling right now. you can go as deep into detail you want or just describe it briefly, eg “i want something fluffy with worshipping themes” or whatever! open to anyone
HELLO THIS IS STILL OPEN .. if i haven’t replied yet don’t worry it’s because i do it on shuffle and im really picky with what vibe to assign to what NSJSNSS u can also request multiple of c
♯┆ you catch Shoto touching himself and decide to help him
𝜗𝜚˚⋆ cw: mdni! gn!reader, no pronouns used, unestablished relationship, reader is his assistant and both have feelings they haven't talked about, male masturbation, consent checks, handjob | 0.9k words
♡ comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡
You let yourself into Shoto's apartment with the spare key you kept, assuming he was still busy at the agency. The place was quiet with the lights dimmed, so you kicked off your shoes and headed towards the bedroom to leave the files he'd asked for on his desk.
The second you opened the door, you froze.
Shoto sat on the bed with his back leaning against the headboard, shirt unbuttoned and hanging open. His pants were shoved down just far enough to free his cock, flushed and slick in his fist. His head was tipped back with half-lidded eyes, lips barely parted as shaky breaths escaped his chest as his hand worked over his shaft. The fingers of his left hand were curled loosely around the base while his right hand stroked over his shaft with slow drags, occasionally brushing over the tip after every few upstrokes.
He looked utterly beautiful like that—cheeks flushed, hair slightly messy, and the muscles in his stomach twitching with each movement of his right hand. A soft, broken sound left his throat as his hips rolled involuntarily into his hand.
As if he could feel your gaze burning on him, his eyes snapped open and stared right back at you.
Shoto felt a tingle travel up his spine as he tensed up, his hand stopping mid-stroke but staying wrapped around his cock while a deep flush exploded across his face and down his neck. For a moment all he could do was stare, frozen, mismatched eyes wide with mortification.
"Shit..." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He let go of himself as if he suddenly got burned and scrambled to pull his pants back up to restore a scrap of dignity. "I thought you weren't coming over until later."
You felt rooted to the floor where you stood, heat crawling up your own face now too. "I... had the file. I thought you'd still be at the agency." you mumbled, unsure where to look at this point.
Shoto dragged a hand over the blanket, the tips of his ears matching the color of the red half of his hair. His cock was still visibly hard and straining against the fabric he tried to tuck it into, and the sight only seemed to fluster him even more. Carefully, he moved on the bed, trying to angle himself away from your view, causing his dick to bob against his pants from the sudden lack of stimulation.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled quietly, feeling bad that you caught him like this. "This is... embarrassing. I didn't hear you come in." He swallowed, and his Adam's apple bobbed visibly in his throat. "I was just— trying to relax after patrol. I didn't expect..."
He trailed off, clearly at a loss of explanations or reasons. One of his hands hovered awkwardly near his lap like he wasn't sure wether to hide further or just accept that you'd already seen everything. His breathing was still a little uneven, chest rising and falling beneath the unbuttoned shirt. The rosy color on his cheeks hadn't gone anywhere, if anything, it turned into a deeper crimson when he finally looked at you again.
"I can go?" you offered, although your voice sounded much thinner than intended.
Shoto shook his head once, still visibly flustered. "No, it's... it's fine. I just wasn't prepared for you to see me like that." He let out a short, self-deprecating breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "Not exactly how I wanted you to find out I think about you when I'm alone."
The admission slipped out before he could stop it. The second these words left his mouth, his eyes widened, and he looked away again, jaw tight. "I mean—forget I said that. I'm sorry. This is—"
He cut himself off, clearly overwhelmed. His hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as he tried to pull it closed, even though the damage was already done. The room felt too warm, and the tension was thick enough to cut it with a knife at that point. Shoto's usual calm composure had cracked entirely and left him looking younger and much more vulnerable than you'd ever seen him.
"...This isn't how I pictured my evening going," he admitted quietly and still avoided your gaze.
You hesitated in the doorway for one more second before stepping inside his bedroom and let the door fall shut behind you. Shoto's head lifted at that sound, and his eyes widened as you crossed the room only to stop at the edge of his bed. When your hand reached out to gently brush his hands aside, it was like all air got knocked out of his lungs.
"Let me help," you said softly, waiting for any sort of consent before you even considered touching anything other than his hands.
Shoto's lips parted, but no words came out, so he simply nodded as his pupils blew wide with need. He stayed perfectly still when your fingers wrapped around his cock, warm and slick from his earlier strokes. A shaky exhale left him the moment your hand started to move over his shaft for the first time, his head immediately falling back against the headboard. His toned thighs tensed up beneath you, and his cheeks burned in numerous shades of red, but this time it wasn't only from embarrassment.
"...Please," he whispered almost helplessly when his eyes looked back at you, half hooded and so full of hunger. The image before you was a sinful one, and you knew that he was like putty in your hands now.