Here And There, About Him.

here and there, about him.

summary: is he perfect? no, just like anyone else. but there will always be something about him. (aka a snippets of one of many, many things he will do for you.)

notes: missing lovesick bllk boys trope for a hot minute while doing other stuffs. short and light stuffs to scratch the itch. was about to isagi and nagi, but turns out self control is still a thing for me. warning: none, just minor swearing + fluffs capital f of smitten boys, chigiri is ready to fight for you. reader's gender unspecified.

characters: rin, chigiri, kaiser.

itoshi rin is very, very much very obvious in his favoritism to you. so obvious that both his teammates and his brother told him to tone it down a little bit. of course, rin only scoffs and tell them to mind their own business (actually he said it more as ’fuck off, cretins’, but details). but, really, no one could exactly blame them. this guy could be in an ongoing tirade of how person a is an utterly pathetic soggy wet trash, then you greet him with a smile and he turns into a cold, suave, rich boyfriend in a snowy winter day. drape his jacket on you, hold your hand, let you hug him from behind while discreetly intertwining your finger with his type of stuffs. it’s a bit disgusting, honestly. and no one wants to start commenting on how he immediately looks at your direction after scoring a goal. also if he buys something, the only one who has the slightest bit of hope of ever receiving anything is his brother here—and that chance is very miniscule on its own since none of them are you. put simply, it’s a bit infuriating, yet undeniably infuriatingly cute in its own way to watch. especially when there is a very high chance you will be the one and only romance this anti social guy will ever have. everyone in the team supports the two of you, but by gods maybe please do something about him a little bit?

chigiri hyoma would never let anyone hurt you. it’s common knowledge already that he takes no shit from anyone and ever since he saw you as ‘the one’, he pretty much already thinks of you as an inseparable part of his life already. so, in other words, that means you have gotten yourself a boyfriend who is ready to became a biting guard dog at moments notice. someone insults you? tries to physically harms you? oh, baby, held your boyfriend back because he is also known to get angry real quick. save his reputation and held himself back from spouting words that would make someone’s ancestor cry or, worse, beat someone up. this is a speedster athlete trained by ego jinpachi himself—no one could escape unscathed from something like that. but hey, this is someone who naturally turns into a shoujo manga male lead with soft gazes and flowery smile the moment you put a hand on his cheek. this is, in a way, just another way for him to protect and make sure of your comfort. also, he needs to have an outlet for the less soft part somewhere other than soccer.

michael kaiser is very reliable and observant, despite whatever persona or deflection he will give you even in the ‘official already’ part of your relationship. this guy got a high ego and put on an air of someone high and mighty, beyond your league. but everyone all know if you got to the part where he proudly let you wore his clothes or make sure you stay pressed to his side during walks, he is down bad. still, for his sake and maybe everyone else’s, let him take care of you and act casual about it. don’t point it out when he suddenly crouch down and tie your untied shoelaces, keep talking as if nothing happened when he put a hand in the small of your back, and just act as if nothing happen when he gave someone a ferocious glare while making sure you cling unto his arm. don’t praise or, god forbid, swoon at those. it will only make him get flustered and lose his composure or, worse, get real annoying. he is indeed good at the whole act of service thing, surprisingly, but please do remember his attitude is indeed also in the ‘piece of shit’ category most of the time. just let the yellow and blue betta fish swim at his own pace and let what means to happen in the future, happen at its own time, including giving praises to him without him reacting like a lovesick brat.

ok so i've just been reading a lot of stories on redit and by some freaking coincidence they all involve cheating.

to take my anger out i imagined a scenario:

You who just found out that your S/O cheated on you with a mutual friend are so angry you go to the first party you find because

1.free drinks

2.with loud music you can't think

then Loren sees you from afar and he's so happy because it's so unusual for you to show up in these kinds of places he walks over and starts a conversation you barely hear because all you think about is how identical he is to a dog happy with his owner and you remember the day you met he said he would do anything for you.

"anything?"

"what"

"you said you'd do anything for me, did you really mean anything?"

Loren, with absolutely no hesitation: "yes"

I don't know going forward, my brain cycles between him murdering your ex or fucking in the bathroom of the party

Tw: NSFW themes. Kinda angst, mild exhibitionism.

His hands were shaking. Grasping at every exposed bit of skin he could, squeezing and massaging. His breath was heavy, labored and hot. It fanned the back of your neck as your body jolted with each thrust.

The toilet seat thudded dully under the massive jocks weight. His arms circled around you, hugging himself to your chest while he struggled to form any coherent sentences. Merely mumbles of adoration. Praise. Your name.

He sung your name like a prayer. He begged and begged and begged. You weren’t sure what for. He didn’t explain. You didn’t know if he could.

He whined deeply and gruffly, hips seemingly having a mind of their own as they smashed and squished against a your thighs.

In and out. In and out.

His lips were hot. Unbearably almost in combination of your sweaty skin, as he trailed hot and heavy kisses up your shoulders and neck. Sucking and biting and marking.

You let him, only to get back at the person who got you into this position. You felt a bit bad playing with the wonder boys feelings. What with the way he seemed to cry your name while bucking his hips into you so fervently.

When he finally started singing his I love you’s he made quick work to force your lips together and swallow any rejections on your tongue.

“Loren-“

“No no shh please, please let me have this. Let me have you just once. Just right now please.”

Your heart hurt hearing him, though with your foggy mind and recked insides you couldn’t pay much mind to the feeling. Only squishing his face to your chest and pressing deeper into his old.

Loren breathed sweetly at that, continuing his previous brutal thrusts, that only seemed to have groan more desperate, if that were even possible.

The more you felt his hands sweetly cupping and holding your own, tracing each bit of skin as he pumped himself into you, the more you felt your previous reasoning for doing this fade a way.

Why hadn’t you been dating Loren again? He had made his feelings more than abundantly clear before you were dating the jackass you were with now.

And loren was so…devoted to you. It was almost scary. He acted like he couldn’t breath without you. That this, what you were doing right now, was something he had fantasized over..craved for years.

Oh god if only you knew.

You blinked dazedly, sharply arching your back when a particular thrust hit your sweet spot, and Loren’s entire pattern switched.

His hips angled ravenously into your thighs, thrusting deeply and even at times stoping just to grind into you. You shuddered as he layered more wet passionate kisses against your skin, forming a small heart into your chest. You thought you peaked at initials too, but when you felt yourself being lifted and cradled fully into his sweaty chest, you didn’t bother to check again.

Your back met with the deliciously cold shower wall, and you marveled at the strength of the jock before you, who held you up by your thighs and continued thrusting.

“Y/n y/n y/n y/n”

It was a breathless whisper but it made your stomach flutter and your body clench, drawing out a low whimper and moan from loren, who slotted himself into the crook of your neck. Your arms circled around his head, holding him close and relishing in the feeling of your bodies sliding and pressing and grinding against each other.

“I love you…I love you..”

At this point you don’t think he was even saying it to you. It sounded more like a fact, something he was merely stating to the air in his own haze, as he hugged you so dearly. The weight of him inside you was intoxicating. Loren was nothing to sneeze at by any means.

“I-“

Loren didn’t let you reply. Not with the way he quickly fell to his knees in the shower, twisting you around and forcing you onto your own, bringing you back into a dip as he laid himself over you, lifting one of you legs to make sure he never once separated from you.

His thrusts were wild. So fucking desperate. Like he couldn’t control himself at feel of your body so sweetly warming and squeezing his cock.

Your eyes rolled back at the angle, and you barely had time to balk at the sight of his letterman underneath you, protecting you from the cold tile of the shower.

“Loren-“

Fuck would he not let you get one word out. He seemed hell bent on keeping you from talking, despite how typically he clung to your every word.

His thrusts grew erratic, chasing something you couldn’t see but prioritizing your experience over it all. He breathing was heavy, gasping, and at one point he dropped your leg gently and hovered over you, his shadow shielding you from any wondering eyes.

You weren’t sure why until the door unlocked and a drunk couple tried to wander their way in. Your eyes widened soberly, before they rolled back again when Loren kept thrusting, his hand covering your mouth gently, keeping your sounds to himself while he glared literal daggers at the couple who stared stalk still.

“Get out.”

It was a growl and tone you had never heard from the jock himself. Only whispers from people who had been there to witness it.

Fucking hell it was so hot. You gripped his forearm tightly, body convulsing when you came, though Lorne didn’t cease his pace, only cooing gently in your ear when the couple finally left and locked the door.

“Baby…fuck baby…thank you..thank you…you feel so good y/n..just one more please? Please I’ll do anything I’ll- nnnng…!”

Your body became play dough very quickly, only held up by the Loren’s strong arms that man handled you so gently, you didn’t think you could just call this sex anymore.

It was far too passionate to be just sex.

What with the way he so gently repositioned you on your back, hugging you deeply into his curving chest, his back hunched as he kept your legs locked firm around his waist, and as he continued to beg and cry and moan for you. Only for you.

Your finish was fast approaching and you finally regained the strength to hold onto the tall male, who groaned deeply and who’s hips shuttered when your nails dug into his skin.

“Loren…-“

“Y/n please…please…just let me have this..”

You paused, blinking blearily.

Then you sighed, gently. There was no disappointment in your tone, when you gently kissed the side of his neck and leaned back to stare the distraught captain in the eyes. You marveled at the flush of his cheeks, and the sheer desperation in his his shiny eyes. You brought your hands gently around his jaw and smiled.

“Okay..”

Your lips gently pressing into his own seemed to be the final straw for Loren, who’s hips grew violently and hard before he came thunderously, moaning deeply with your own high riding alongside his.

Your breath shortened and choked at the weight and heat in your belly.

He didn’t pull out when he finished. Only shuttering and shifting slightly, relishing in your warmth.

You peaked, out of breath, at his expression, and had you not been on the brink of sleep, you would’ve felt concern at the wide of his eyes, and the untamed smile that split his cheeks.

“I love you…so much y/n..”

“I know..”

“No…you don’t.”

not a man of words

summary: he may look a little tough on the outside, he simply just wanted to let out his feelings to someone.

featuring: ushijima wakatoshi

word count: 263

cw: gn!reader, set right after preliminary finals, ushijima looks fine but is actually sad, mentions of ushijima’s past

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

after bowing to their opponents, ushijima wakatoshi searched around the gymnasium for someone. his face remained stoic, but the strong urge to let out his defeat was kept in his heart.

“toshi!”

he heard the familiar voice behind him, which he turned around to find you standing not far away from him with a proud smile on your face. “you did well,” you said with a light-hearted whisper.

it was all he needed. in an instant, he made his way towards you who had your arms wide open before wrapping them around his waist in a tight embrace. he had you in his arms, and you both said nothing — ignoring the stares of everyone in the gymnasium hall. you could feel him shaking against your touch, which you soothed him by patting his back slowly.

the ace of shiratorizawa may appear strong, stoic and blunt, no one knew that even someone like him could feel lonely too. raised in a strict household with both of his parents separated since he was a child, he was raised under the care of a busy mother and not being able to meet his father living far away. you were there with him since your first year of middle school; you were there when he needed someone the most; you were his home, his comfort, his emotional support, and his everything.

he may not be a man of words, but his actions speak louder than them.

ushijima wakatoshi did not utter a word, but you knew he was very grateful to have you by his side.

this is the money dog, repost in the next 24 hours and money will come your way!!

miles “i got it” morales earth 42 miles 591 words

Between the both of you, Miles is always the first to stand up when the bell rings at the end of class. With all the textbooks you bring to school, he knows your backpack is just one mechanical pencil away from hitting a ton and for that reason he never lets you carry it yourself. In fact, he makes it his mission to pick it up before you do. With his own backpack on one shoulder, he’ll watch for the exact moment you’re done tucking your supplies away just to interrupt you as you’re mid-reach so he can scoop it up into his free hand by the top handle.

“I got it.”

Miles always pays for you guys’ dates. You knew this wasn’t abnormal when it came to relationships, seeing as he’s the guy, you’re the girl, and that’s just the ‘societal norm’ or whatever. It’s how your dad told you a male should treat the girl he’s with, and based off how Miles acts, you assumed his own father had given him the same speech as well before he passed. But even when you two take a stroll to the corner store to pick up some cheap snacks for a study session—the total coming out to as little as $4.37 for some sunchips and sour gummy worms—he still won’t let you pay.

He’s already getting his wallet out before the cashier can read the total off. And when you try and protest, he’s all—

“I got it.”

When your laces have come undone and you hadn’t noticed.

“Ma, your shoe’s untied.”

You’ll stop in your tracks and look down at your loosened laces, prepared to hand your phone off to him so you can bend down to tie them, and like always—

“I got it.”

When the pizza you ordered an hour ago finally shows up at the door and you get the ‘arrived’ notification on your phone—which he’s already seen because he’s always looking over your shoulder as you scroll your time away on tiktok, watching them with you as an excuse to be all up on you—you can bet your life on what his response will be.

“I got it.”

You knew he only wanted to be a gentleman, but at this point, you were convinced ‘I got it’ was his middle name instead of Gonzalo.

For a while now, Miles has felt like he has to take responsibility and do everything even when something isn’t asked of him, and you wanted him to know that same sentiment didn’t have to apply to the two of you. So you started trying to beat him at his own game.

Brushing past him and rushing down the concrete steps of his apartment building to make it to the passenger side door and open it for yourself before he can.

Keeping your backpack on the opposite side of your desk so you can have the chance to pick it up before him, even if it earns you a subtle glare each time. And while some days it really is too heavy for you to carry—heavy enough to make you question exactly what point you’re trying to prove here—you remain determined.

Having cash ready and smacking it down on the peeling countertop of the bodega before your snacks have even been rung up, and regardless of how insane you look and how the clerk squeezes his face at you to confirm that, the triumphant grin you give Miles (who’s struggling to contain a smile of his own) doesn’t falter.

“I got it.”

HELD BY YOU, FELLED BY YOU ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, developing relationship, physical affection, touch starved shouto, loneliness, hugs + hand holding, fluff, only a little angst, obliviousness, pro hero shouto, reader works at hero agency

wc: 1.4K

series masterlist: 1/?

It is 4:03pm on a Thursday afternoon. The skies are grey, and the rain is so light it’s practically a wet fog. You have not touched Shouto in any meaningful way since Monday.

Before this week Shouto was certain that he must have been absorbed into a long-standing state of neutrality and apathy as a child. He didn’t long for anything, atleast, not in the way his friends claimed to. Whiny professions of loneliness, lamenting over romantic relationships and sex or lack thereof, dreamily recounting their passionate escapades. It didn’t appeal much to him.

Shouto had what he needed to survive—to live his day to day and climb the ranks without disruption, and it seemed that affection was not one of those things. The Todoroki household had never been particularly affectionate anyway. After his mother was admitted to the psychiatric hospital touch became less associated with comfort and happiness, and more of a thing to avoid altogether.

Shouto never actually voiced an aversion to touch. He held hands with crying children as he walked them back to their parents. He rubbed the backs of countless scared victims, he let them wrap around his arm and squeeze until his fingers grew numb. He offered his left side to elderly folk in the colder weather as they waited to be loaded into an ambulance.

But these small instances were always initiated by him, and his well-meaning friends decided to leave the ball in his court sometime during highschool. It never really left.

Until—

“Can I hug you?” you blurted. Your expression quickly twisted into a sheepish grimace. “You look like you could do with one, is all”.

At that moment Shouto had been sitting in the infirmary half covered in soot and picking out the bits of rubble that managed to get inside his suit’s ventilator. He stared up at you and wondered what that would even look like on himself, lifting a hand to feel his face and finding it relatively normal.

The sound of his heart flooded his ears and he frowned at the reaction. You weren’t a new friend by any means, but Shouto scarcely made new friends so you are newer than the others. You’ve never tried to be physically affectionate but he’s caught you gazing at him fondly sometimes, when you think he’s none the wiser, and he likes it.

Shouto nodded. Why, he doesn’t know. To quell your anxiety and get rid of the awkward atmosphere, he reasoned. Then your lips pulled into a soft, pleased smile, and he felt it like the sun on his face.

You stepped forward as though approaching some skittish animal. Shouto made no move to stand. He had only watched with trepidation as your hands lifted. A breath caught in his throat as they extended to rest on his sloped shoulders. “I’ll get you dirty,” he murmured dumbly in afterthought.

“That’s okay,” you replied, barely above a whisper. Your arms slipped around his back gently, and soon tightened to a secure hold when no objection came—there could be none, because the instant Shouto’s cheek pressed against your soft stomach, a rush of adrenaline speared through him and swept away all conscious thought.

To Shouto touch was like skipping a rock through the cavity in his chest; doing it only ever made its presence more obvious. But you cradled him there for what seemed like hours and he felt warm in ways he couldn’t articulate. Your fingers danced aimless patterns along the top of his spine, sometimes pausing to curl the wispy hair at his nape around them, and he sank.

True to his word, Shouto had dirtied your clothes. He apologised when you pulled away because it was all he could do not to whimper. You didn’t spare your shirt a glance—you just smiled at him again, and said you hoped it helped.

Helped? Helped?

The weight of your embrace had lingered for hours, cloven to the forefront of his mind, clinging to the memory before it became too obscure. Only now the memory hurt him to think about, and the pervasive ache for more intensified as the days passed.

Just this morning he’d wrapped his bedsheets tight and drew them around his shoulders to simulate that same feeling. Closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, picturing you there. Your sweet, purposeful touches. Your comforting scent. Your chest rising and falling. Your voice rumbling against his cheek. Heat filled his body, like you’d reached inside and turned the spigot of his heart.

It was mortifying. And exhilarating.

Shouto stuck his hand out from the shelter of the awning and let the rain lick at his fingers. Overturning his wrist, catching them on the shallow of his palm, he contemplates how he can get you to touch him again.

Last time you said he simply looked like he needed it. Too frustrating and vague, not to mention Shouto has been needing it all week. You could have meant his grimy post-battle appearance, but he didn’t really think this should warrant being thrown from another high rise building. Maybe he has to earn it this time.

You’re standing beside him, too preoccupied by the emails on your phone to notice his dilemma. Things have been fine. No awkwardness on your part, which he should probably be pleased about, but his mind keeps veering beyond rational conjecture. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. It all felt too one sided.

Shouto gives you a sidelong glance. You might be the only person he knows that can look alluring in the dreary afternoon light. With a sigh he lets his hand drop to his hip and wipes it on his dry suit.

Your thumbs move fast across the screen. “Sorry, Shouto. I promise I’m not ignoring you—just need to reply to this intern,” you tell him. “God, have I ever mentioned how much I hate the email software your agency uses? Because I do”.

He hums, “You have”.

Whatever you hear in his voice has you looking up. There’s a crease etched in your brow, expression open and apologetic. Your gaze flickers to the hand held to his front, where he’s working out the static in his knuckles.

“Are you cold?” you ask, pocketing your phone. It’s a silly question. He is a walking furnace. But Shouto is statuesque as you reach to cup his distinctly bigger hand with your own. Heat prickles under his skin. The staccato of his heart kicks up. You lean down to exhale a warm breath over his fingers, and stroke your thumb along the dips and peaks of his knuckles.

Shouto sends a mental apology to Kaminari for the halfhearted response he gave after a long, lovestruck monologue about his girlfriend’s hands. He thinks he gets it, now.

Your lips curl into a satisfied smile. “Better?” you scan his face and the smile falters. “Shit. Sorry, Shouto. I should’ve asked,” then you’re retreating again and—

He reflexively grabs your wrist. It’s a loose grip, enough for you to free yourself from. You pause. “No,” a puff of steam billows out from his mouth and he has enough presence of mind to be embarrassed by it. “…It’s fine. You don’t have to stop”.

Your concern dwindles into amusement as he wafts it away. “Alright,” you say placatingly. The tension alleviates, and when your fingers slip against his you immediately twine them together, taking the ache in his chest with it. “Is this ‘fine’ too?”

Shouto nods, not yet trusting his voice or his quirk.

“I wasn’t sure if I crossed any lines on Monday,” your eyes dipped to stare at the pavement as you continued. “I know you aren’t touchy feely like the others. They were… surprised when I mentioned the hug”.

“I didn’t think I was,” he swallows, flexing his fingers to squeeze your hand. “I liked it”.

You squeeze back, “You did?”

Shouto squeezes harder, and can’t stop the smile coming unbidden to his lips. “I did,” he says.

You meet his gaze. He’s pinned by that fond look you always try to hide from him. “Do you want another one, then?”

“But I didn’t do anything”.

A litany of emotion passes over your face at his response. There’s determination in the purse of your lips as you step into his space, entangled hands caught between your bodies. Wrapping an arm around his waist, you tuck your nose into the hollow where his jaw met his neck.

There’s a clumsiness to his movements as he follows your lead and slips his arm around your back. Head suddenly too heavy for his neck, he rests his cheek on your crown, melting into the embrace.

“You don’t need to earn my affection, Shouto. Not now and not ever”.

“Oh,” Shouto breathes. “I can just ask?”

“You can,” you laugh softly.

Why hadn’t he thought to just—ask. That is far more reasonable than being flung from another burning high rise.

“What?”

Ah. He pulls you further into his chest until you’re pressed together like the pages of a book. “Nothing”.