please kind sir, would u spare some alms (shinsou thoughts) for the poor (down bad)? 🥺🤲
hitoshi is absolutely the type to kiss your forehead on the first date yes it’s totally reflexive and he agonises about it for the rest of the week while you’re too busy telling the group chat you’re in love with him. he has a folder dedicated to you on his phone just know he takes the worst pictures of you and absolutely adores them. you’d think he’s from the corvid family with the amount of weird trinkets and sparkly things he brings home to give to you just because they reminded him of you in some way. he’s funny without trying. visibly preens if he makes someone laugh, especially you.
I can confidently say hitoshi is a tummy guy. he loves ass and thighs as much as the next person but when he gets home the final destination is under your shirt and laid on your stomach. I think he’s well built and puts on a good amount of muscle after he goes pro and remains taller than most of his classmates. he has a few moles, one between his shoulder blades and another behind his knee but most notably there is one in the centre of his back dimple. he’s a light sleeper and as a result an early riser. he is the little spoon. likes to sleep naked. he likes to back you up against any and all surfaces just to hear the little hitch in your voice. pushes his hips against your ass when you bend over. it happened in public once and he has never lived it down.
surprisingly hitoshi is not dry at texting. calls you when he’s at work doing the night shift to listen to you sleep. heavy weight with alcohol but he doesn’t like drinking. a social smoker. loses all his socks. cock warming is now a part of your daily routine. has his left nipple pierced along with his ears and a now healed scar on his bellybutton from a dare in third year that you beg him to repierce. stressed? sit on his face. sad? sit on his face. happy? sit on his face.
still grins and blushes like a teenager when you wear his clothes and nothing underneath. takes his coffee with milk and sugar. he grew up frugal and refuses to replace anything until it is completely unusable. oh and he greets your squishmallows by name and turns them around when you have sex
idk I just think fwb hitoshi is really sweet and gets off on indulging you so once he notices your little crush on izuku he might just put the persona chords on when he has you waiting on all fours and next thing you know he's sinking into you, the full weight of him on your back, and izuku's voice groaning in your ear about how wet you are. idk tho
tags: GN reader, underground heroes (reader + shinsou), OC villains (one quirk involves shooting bullets), mutual attraction/romantic tension, dubcon kiss (<- very much reciprocated just no asking beforehand)
wc: 1.3k
Fuck fuck fuck.
The uneven pavement is harsh beneath your hefty footfalls, arms bent and swinging at your sides as you try to maintain sprinting pace. Your heart is throbbing behind your ribs, crawling steadily up your throat, anxiety vining it's way into the tissue of your lungs as your breathing sharpens. Shinsou is at your back, his carbon-alloy scarf whipping in the wind as it passes, both of you running in the same direction.
Botched. It should have been a simple reconnaissance mission — being underground heroes, discretion was your area of expertise. But not only were you apparently lacking in accurate knowledge of the villains quirks, the blueprints of the warehouse had also been outdated; the two areas you were posted at had been left vulnerable, and one shadowed movement in the groups peripheral had caused the whole plan to collapse.
Of course they'd had a fucking surveillance quirk amongst their ranks. Eyes everywhere, literally.
"Fuck!"
The toe of your boot catches against a concrete slab, uplifted from the ground by the growth of an old tree root. Something thick wraps tightly around your waist and keeps you balanced — the capture weapon — and Shinsou's hand grabs your own with haste as he forces you to keep moving. "Don't stop," he says, the words strained and breathless behind his mask, "we're almost out of their territory".
A booming sound cuts over his voice, the bass felt deep in your chest, then followed by a fast pressured gust of air barely missing the skin of your arm. Takei Goro, Villain name: Arsenal. He could fire bullets made of bone from the tips of his fingers.
Shinsou's grip remains firm and you try not to panic, willing the muscles in your thighs to carry you just a little further. The only consolation was that at present you were all on equal ground, but if a member were to rush to one of their storage units and follow in a vehicle the odds would undoubtedly be in their favour.
"Persona. We... need a... plan..." you adjust your grip to interlink your fingers, squeezing to get his attention as you weave through the streets. The initial location wasn't optimal, barely any narrow alleyways to slip into given that it was an open dock and most of the buildings had withered; but with a final turn you'd be coming into a commercial street. It's a small mercy that the place is mostly empty aside from a few strays, but they all knew better than to get involved.
Skidding to a brief halt, you are suddenly yanked into the shadows as Shinsou lumbers you behind the wall of a dumpster. He feels so much taller here, forearms braced either side of you, shielding you from view as much as he possibly can. His body is firm under the fabric and mesh of his hero suit, mouth agape as he pants, shoulders rising and falling where his chin tucks to his chest in exertion.
Heat creeps up your neck, and you almost forget where you are, or how you'd ended up there. Another shot rings out, accompanied only by frantic footsteps. They clearly knew of Persona somehow, knew of his quirk, and so they were remaining eerily silent as a precaution. "I recorded one of their vocals before they found us. The guy with the eyeballs. I can scale to the roof and lure them across the street—"
Another shot. "He stayed behind, remember?" you return the whisper, instinctively curling your hands into his shirt to keep him closer, "they'll know it's you".
The noise was nearing the entrance of the alley, you could sense it lifting the soft hair at the back of your neck, adrenaline coursing readily through your system. You needed to do something, and sooner rather than later. Think.
There were other people further down, some homeless and some aimlessly walking back from whichever bar they'd been in. Neither of your faces had been seen but Shinsou had very distinct violet hair that they'd link to Persona on sight, and it wasn't well hidden even at this distance away from the streetlamps.
Without any further forethought, you reach up to unlatch the clasp at the back of his mask, catching it as it falls loose around his neck. His expression pinches slightly in confusion, eyes frantically flickering from your actions to the head of the alleyway. It isn't until you begin tugging down the zip of your heavy duty jacket that he finally asks with urgency: "what're you doing?"
The jacket was often an addition for your winter uniform, rather than for summer. But on missions such as this one it was helpful for keeping you concealed, oversized to disguise your frame and with a large hood that hung over your face. The sleeves likely would not fit Shinsou on a regular day out of costume, never mind over all the layers he already had on, but it was better than nothing.
You flinch as another shot is fired into the air, Arsenal roaring in frustration, the baritone reverberating through the narrow space between your bodies. Given no time to explain, you roll up onto the balls of your feet to hook your jacket over his head, resting the lapels over his shoulders to hide the capture weapon.
A strangers silhouette shifts into the light and you grasp the hoods fabric, stretching it to obscure his face. "Sorry. You can hit me after this," you rasp, and before he has any chance to reply you are pulling him into a kiss.
To his credit, Shinsou adjusts easily. After a sharp inhale of surprise you feel as the tension softens, the distress waning as he melts into your touch and his weight forces you back against old brick. He tilts, slotting your lips together slowly, as if he were indulging it — as if he had all the time in the world.
Admittedly, you get a little lost in it. Something strums at your centre of gravity as he sighs into your mouth, your tongue tentatively licking into his, hips cradling hips and breaths stuttered. In the distance you hear two men speaking in low tones, an edge of frustration in their voices.
"Find them?"
"Nah, just a couple'a fuckin' kids fooling around".
The voices fade as they walk away, but you can't bring yourself to let go just yet, and Shinsou isn't stopping either. You try to rationalise it, reason that the members could still come back to check again, but it's futile. You were both still alive, you were grateful, you felt good in his arms. The soft pull of your lip between teeth, the groan building in his sternum, the hands pawing at your waist — it felt good.
Eventually he pulls away, a quiet wet sound as you separate, a string of saliva connecting your mouths bowing as it thins. You can barely see his expression but his cheeks feel warm. The moment is suspended, fragile, and you didn't want to shatter it. "I think they're gone," you whisper, "sorry again for... for springing that on you. I couldn't think of anything else".
"Huh?" he mutters, head lifting to look towards the main street. Now illuminated by the dim light, you can see just how flushed he is, dusted with pink and orange hues. "Oh".
"Oh?" you repeat, laughing at the bashfulness weaving into his features as he nervously rubs the back of his neck. "You forgot we were being pursued?"
"No! I just," he pauses to lick his bottom lip, half-lidded eyes lingering on your face in search of something, "got caught up in it. That's all".
You'd known him for years, had been partnered together on numerous other missions. Persona was level headed and thought fast on his feet, he didn't get caught up; but then again, neither did you.
At that moment, the communication device latched to your tool belt begins to blink. You weren't sure of the time but you knew it had to be long past when you'd promised to check in, and in all likelihood the police would have been notified of the gunshots.
"We should report back," you exhale. Shinsou visibly swallows, and nods.
The boundary between consciousness and sleep was one you and Hitoshi often found yourselves in. Swaddled in warmth, the sun dipping below the seam of the landscape through your apartment window, a deep seated ache from a long day of hard work. You’re curled into one another, a leg thrown over his hip so he can keep you closer, nose tucked beneath your jaw as he breathes you in. You don’t talk much in these moments, but when you do it’s tender, sentences barely strung together as you fight to stay awake with him.
He’d almost gotten hurt today. Almost was perhaps an exaggeration — he hadn’t really been close enough for severe injury, but it would’ve been an injury nonetheless. The memory evolves into white noise under your skin, something that is only quietened by the weight of him next to you. As if he can sense your anxiety, Hitoshi pulls you in impossibly closer, and it still doesn’t feel like enough.
You exhale, threading your fingers into his hair to lightly scratch his scalp, a hum building in his chest. “Want you,” you tell him.
“Now?” he asks, though not unkindly. He tilts his chin to get a better look at you, face only inches from your own.
“Just want you inside me,” your hand slides to his jaw, thumb stroking the purpling bruise on his cheek, “nothing else”. He blinks lazily as he processes the request, turning into your touch and kissing your palm.
“Gonna keep my cock nice and warm for me while we nap?” he murmurs, already playing with the waistband of your shorts and waiting for your permission. Heat flickers in your belly, sinking back into the soft sheets with contentment curling along your lips.
“Yeah,” you breathe, shifting as he begins to pull the material down your thighs, “please”.
He smiles and you see it in his half open eyes. “Could never say no to you”.
Shinsou’s body reacts so drastically to the way you call his name that he thinks he might’ve been rewired at some point between the first time he met you and the first time the word Hitoshi fell from your lips. Neurological, maybe? Illogical, definitely. “Mornin’ Hitoshi,” you’ll say, and for a moment he’s weightless, in freefall, the swooping sensation in his stomach leaving him briefly nauseous. “Hitoshi,” you’ll murmur, “can I have a kiss?” Jesus — you can have anything you want, just ask for it and he’d give it to you, all you have to do is speak his name, as if it were some magical incantation. “Hitoshi,” you moan, voice breathless and caught in your throat, pulsing around his cock. You’re full of cum and will be fuller still, nails marring the skin of his shoulders, his body responding to your voice like pavlovs dog to the ringing of a bell. “Hitoshi,” you whisper under the weight of his body “I love you” and the leash tightens
