#ceo!shouto todoroki

[wttcsms]

we play our fantasies out in real life ways ; shouto todoroki.

pairing shouto todoroki x f!reader  word count 2.7k  synopsis knocking up his sugar baby seems (and feels) like a dream come true for the future ceo and youngest son of japan’s richest conglomerate family. content contains sugar daddy!shouto, yandere themes, car sex, creampie, breeding kink, quirkless au, ceo!shouto, tiny daddy kink author’s notes this is a repost of an old fic but pls tell me we are still horny 4 shouto. also ignore the Tesla promo, i was feeling silly when i wrote this </3

He can have anything he wants, you know.

And of course you know this. Of course you do. It’s hard to ignore this fact whenever he’s the exact reason your closet is overflowing with more dresses than you know what to do with; why your dresser can barely stay shut due to the amount of lacy lingerie you’ve had to shove in them; why you’re a third year college student driving to campus with a brand new Mercedes that technically isn’t even supposed to be out on the market ‘til next month. 

He can have anything he wants, and because you’re his, by extension, you have the power to make all your material wishes come true, too. All you have to do is ask him.

All you have to do is look up at him and give him those puppy dog eyes of yours and say, “please, daddy, can I cum?” and he’ll let you. You know he will, because stoic Shouto Todoroki, the future CEO and prized son of the Todoroki clan that happens to be one of the most famous conglomerate families in all of Japan, just can’t seem to say no to you. He signs off multi-billion yen deals as easily as one blinks and running multiple companies is just something he’s been born to do. It’s no easy feat to give commands to such a powerful man. 

And yet, one look and a tiny whimper is all it takes to turn him into putty in your hands. 

It’s always an out of body experience when you’re with Shouto. Being with him is like constantly being the main character of a movie. He rents out entire restaurants so the two of you can dine away from prying eyes. He sends you good morning and good night texts every single day. (One time you joked about him forcing his assistant to do it because there’s no way a busy man like him would ever have time to do something so insignificant; he didn’t like that you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around the concept of you being someone very important to him.) Shouto is incredibly good to you, incredibly good for you.

He’s incredibly good with a lot of things. Taking care of you, for one. Taking care of all his businesses, for another. And right now, he’s taking real good care of your cunt when he’s got three of his fingers knuckles deep in you. 

The windows to his sleek, outrageously priced car are tinted so dark, even you struggle to see through the windshield. You always tell him it’s dangerous, but he reminds you that there are always reasons for the things he does. You wonder if getting tinted windows so he could fuck his college student sugar baby with some semblance of privacy is the reason. 

And then all thinking on your end comes to a stop when he nips at the skin of your neck, biting down softly and getting you to let out a tiny whimper. It doesn’t hurt. You don’t think Shouto is even capable of hurting you; not because you’re some unbreakable being, but because you don’t think the calloused hands that have caressed every centimeter of your body is capable of harming you. 

The two of you are currently parked in the lot right outside the building where his main office is located. In about ten minutes, the parking lot will be flooded with employees who have just clocked out and are getting ready to speed home. In about ten minutes, anyone could accidentally (or purposely) become a little voyeur to the activities going down in the future CEO’s luxury car. 

Your back is pressed against his chest. More often than not, you find yourself naked while he’s practically still dressed, and it’s the same thing that’s happening right now. The buttons on his shirt are digging into your back, but you can’t find it in you to complain. Instead, you focus on gripping the wrist of the hand that’s in between your thighs. The sleeves of his button down shirt are rolled up, and if you take your tiny fingers just a bit higher, you can feel the veins running down his arm. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.” The baritone of his voice is smooth, calm, collected — in control. Because you can make any request in the world, and Shouto will fulfill it for you, but that does not mean that you are the one who makes the final decisions. At the end of the day, everything you have, everything that is given to you, is because of him, because of the decisions he makes for you.

His eagerness to gift you the world thinly veils the true depth of your submission to him. A subconscious part of you is well aware of the power imbalance in this relationship, but if all has been well these past two years, then surely it’ll only be smooth sailing from here?

You lean back, leaning into his warmth, breathing deeply to inhale the scent of his spicy cologne that costs more than your textbooks (that he bought for you). 

“D-daddy.” You moan out, trying to coax him deeper in your tight little cunt, as if his fingers aren’t already as deep as they can go, spreading out your hole to prep you for what he knows you truly crave. 

“You’ve got to speak up, love. I can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what to give you.” His breath is warm against your ear, and it’s so hot in the car. So, so hot. You wonder if it’s just you feeling the heat, though. Shouto seems as collected as ever, not the least bit uncomfortable at all. 

“Mmm — w-want you.” You wriggle a bit in his lap, but his free hand grips your side and squeezes you with a firm, nonverbal command to stop moving. You do, immediately. Because that’s what you always do: follow his command. 

“I know you do.” He coos, finally moving his fingers. It’s agonizingly slow,��too slow. The car is silent save for your little pants and the obscene wet sounds that come as a result of his fingers thrusting in your wet cunt. 

“Faster, daddy.” You whine out, looking up at him. The sun is setting, and despite the tint of the windows, the orange glow from the sun still shines against his smooth skin, casting his face into something that’s half sunset/half shadow. It’s a good look; a sharp contrast that matches his hair. Seeing your blatant admiration of him only spurs him to give in and go faster. He had planned on drawing this out for as long as he possibly could. He had originally wanted to coax you into as many orgasms ‘til you were nothing but a fucked out little mess, too worn out to pay attention or even care when he finishes your little session with you plugged up with his cum. 

The lives of children born into the Todoroki family are more cursed than it is blessed, and Shouto had, a very long time ago, made a vow that he would never continue the bloodline. He would have no children, which would be easy because he planned on never having a lover.

And then he met you, started providing for you, realized how much he enjoyed providing, and realized even more that the only way to strengthen this transactional relationship is by forcing your hand. He likes to think that you would stay with him willingly, but there are some chances that he’s just not willing to take; there are some extremes that he’s all too entirely happy to go far to, though. 

Your sweet moans mix in well with the lewd sounds of your pussy getting thoroughly fingerfucked. His fingers are so much longer than yours, can reach spots inside of you that you can’t quite reach yourself. He’s efficient with anything and everything he does, and you’re not surprised when he doesn’t slow his pace. The consistent strokes of his fingers, your lowered inhibitions when around Shouto, and the look on his face (equal parts concentration and adoration) all help in making you cum all over his hand. 

“Good girl.” Shouto whispers, removing his fingers and holding his hand up. The sunlight beaming through makes his digits glisten even more, and you’re enraptured as you watch him bring his fingers to his lips to suck your essence off of them. Piercing heterochromatic eyes never leave yours as he sucks on them, and you have to turn away from embarrassment. How can he keep such a straight face when literally licking your cum off his fingers? 

“Don’t turn away from me.” His hand — still wet — grips your chin and forces you to look at him again. “I don’t like it when you shy away from me.” 

You nod meekly, and Shouto sighs. 

“You shouldn’t be shy around me. I don’t like making you feel uncomfortable, you know that, don’t you?” 

You nod again, a subtle, barely there move. He’s not impressed. 

“Answer me properly.” There’s a hard edge to his tone, and you sit up a little straighter. Shouto would never lay a hand on you with the intent to physically harm you, but he’s not above roughing you up during sex. You’ve heard him get this way before, and the imprint of his fingertips and the purple hickeys littering your poor body took three days to fade properly. 

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You say with a pout, trying to conjure up any sort of leniency he can spare. Judging by his facial expression and the wavering look in his eyes, he’s already softening up. You just have to make it up to him now to have his complete forgiveness.

Maneuvering in the limited space the driver’s seat gives is no easy task, but you manage to shift positions to where you’re straddling his lap, finally facing him properly. He’s leaned back, watching you with a hungry glint in his eyes that makes you feel like the most wanted girl in all of Japan. A surge of heat flows through your body, from the tips of your ears to your cheeks and all the way down to between your thighs. If you were in a different position, you could clench them together, try to rub your thighs in an attempt to ease the need for friction. 

Your fingers make quick work of his belt and his zipper, pulling down on both the waistband of his slacks and his briefs to finally free his cock. He’s already hard, and you admire the way your hand can’t even wrap fully around him. The tip is flushed red, pearly beads of precum already present. 

This is the part where you look up at him, almost as if you’re unsure about what to do. You don’t know what it does to him, to see you sitting on his lap with his cock looking outrageously large in your tiny hands. He can see your pretty pussy practically dripping all over his slacks. Now’s not the time for you to be playing the role of an innocent, unsure little girl, but then it hits him: you’re asking him for permission. He almost lets out a bark of laughter. 

“You’ve already taken it upon yourself to tear into my pants and make a grab for my cock. Surely you don’t expect me to beg to fuck your little hole now, do you?” He has a cold smile on his face as he brings you closer to him. “I thought this was my apology. Don’t tell me you’re going to make me do all the work?”

“O-of course not!” You look startled at the suggestion, eyes going big and round. He looks at you expectantly, as if telling you to do something. 

It always burns when you first take him. It doesn’t matter how many times he makes you cums, doesn’t matter how long he spends stretching you out on his fingers. By now, your pussy should have memorized the feel of his dick, should have been moulded to fit him and only him. And while there’s a tiny flash of pain and discomfort for you (which Shouto hates), it’s hard not to be in love with the feel of just how tight you are. 

The stinging pain is brief, though, and is easily replaced by one of satisfaction from being stuffed by the prettiest, fattest cock you’ve ever taken in your life. 

You moan, rocking your hips back and forth. Maybe this was originally supposed to be an apology to him, but it feels more like you’re using him as your own personal toy, and Shouto really couldn’t care less. After all, if it brings you pleasure, it brings him pleasure. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, baby? What would happen if I never met you, hmm? Are you willing to spread those pretty legs of yours for any man?” He says the last sentence with a tone sharper than usual. You shake your head as you continue to rut against him, chasing after your own high because you might not be a simpleminded slut for anyone, but you are nothing more than a cockslut when it comes to Shouto. 

“Ah — fuck, fuck, fuck!” You moan out, falling against his chest, burying your face into the space between his shoulder and neck. “D-daddy, fuck!”

He holds you close to him as you cum, not even minding the mess you’ve made of his work pants. “Daddy’s got you.” He coos, his hand finding the back of your neck and squeezing you there, gently. “You must be tired now…”

You’re still too fucked out to really comprehend what’s exactly going on ‘til it’s happening, but even with your slow reaction times, you still manage to let out a slutty moan as you feel Shouto thrusting up into you. It must be uncomfortable, you think. This position doesn’t make it exactly easy for him to chase after his own pleasure, but then you remember that Shouto Todoroki doesn’t back down or break down when it comes to challenges.

He perseveres. 

You’re like a rag doll, like a personal little fucktoy, made for him to use (and maybe even break) as he pleases. Every thrust is sharp and intense, and his teeth are clenched as he continues to use you, enjoying the warmth of your tight walls and admiring the ring of white that coats and clings to his dick every time he pulls out. 

It doesn’t take him much longer to finally finish; he grabs you by your hips, raising you slightly before abruptly pushing you down on his cock, making sure that he’s nestled as deeply in you as he can be when he finally cums. He’s breathing a bit harder as he comes down, and then he’s grabbing you by your hair, making you stare at him. 

His cheeks are flushed, there’s some slight sweat building up on his forehead, his shirt is wrinkled. He’s never looked better. You’ve never felt better. 

Or, more accurately, never felt fuller. 

“Shouto, did you c…” You can’t even finish the sentence. Did you cum inside? Not like you have to; you know the answer. Some of it is dripping out of you. 

All he does is give you that small smile, the one that he rarely lets anyone see, and starts up the car. 

If he doesn’t want to talk now, there’s no way you can get him to answer properly. You try to remove yourself from his lap and make your ungraceful, disgusting journey to the passenger seat, but Shouto places a firm hand on your waist, forcing you back down.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Shouto, you can’t possibly drive while I’m sitting here on your lap.”

“I bought a Tesla for a reason.” 

Right. Because everything Shouto does has a reason for it.

You think about this on the drive back to his penthouse, a little bit of fear building up in your lower belly. Shouto does everything for a reason, and what’s the reason for any man cumming inside?

#shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #one shot #yandere #smut #shouto todoroki smut #drabble #imagine

[maliciouslove]

𝕃𝕚𝕝𝕒𝕔

SFW, shopping district!AU, aged up characters (21+) 

pairing // todoroki shouto x reader

summary // a story you’ve never shared with anyone before is how you came to love flowers as much as you do. it’s simple really—it all started with him. it all started with the boy who brought you a single flower every day of the week when you scraped your knee riding his bike. your first love. but how long will it take for him to come to understand it?  

word count // 4.2k 

tags // CEO!shouto, florist!reader, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, (hurt) comfort, mutual pining (except shouto doesn’t know he’s pining), shouto with long hair, shouto is dense af, jealousy

Do you believe in soulmates?

You could understand why so many people thought of soulmates as some sort of far fetched, overly romanticized pipe dream, but honestly—you knew better. Because you had already met your soulmate. 

The evidence pointing to that?

You’ve known him since birth basically, being born less than a year after him. You grew up together, living two houses down from each other. You spent your entire youth together: from playing in the sandbox, making pretend meals out of mud and stones and using leaves as money, to being classmates throughout middle school and highschool, always walking home together and doing homework in your living room late into the night. 

The two of you were truly inseparable and shared everything—so when he got a bike at the age of six and you didn’t, of course he was more than willing to share. He wanted to teach you how to ride, put his little blue helmet on your head and fastened it under your chin, calming you down because you were nervous. 

“But what if I fall…”

“I’ll catch you.”

And the way his big heterochromatic eyes were fixed on you, full of promise and safety, gave you all the courage you needed for you to get on that bike. And he tried, he really did try to catch you when you lost control of the bike and swerved right into your front yard, trashing your mother’s flower garden and falling face first into the peonies. 

That little boy was so worried, mortified by the idea that you got hurt because of him, he simply could not stop apologizing. Even when you told him through tears that it doesn’t really hurt that much. I just scraped my knee a little, I’m okay!

But it wasn’t okay for him because he promised to keep you safe and failed. So he stood by your side, tightly holding your little hand in his as your mother was cleaning up your wounds and lecturing you about safety. And his tiny chest would feel tight every time he looks at your injury, eyes heavy with guilt and worry. 

For the next week until your scrapes were fully healed, every time he’d come to your house to play he would bring a small flower with him to give to you. 

The first day, he brought you a daffodil, clutching it in his hand as he nervously presented it to you. The second day, it was a tulip, most likely stolen from his mother's garden. On the third, he had a wild rose, a few cuts visible on his fingers, proof of his struggle to get the flower for you. On the fourth, he had three geraniums in hand that quite frankly looked bigger than him, but he smiled brightly as he gave them to you. On the fifth, he got you marigolds and taught you how to make a flower crown out of them, and on the sixth he got you peonies, bringing some for your mom as well as an apology for ruining her garden. And finally, on the seventh day, he got you lilacs. 

“To congratulate you on your recovery.”

“It was just a scrape, Shouto…”

“So?” He was then crouching down to inspect your knee, satisfied that the scrape wasn’t going to leave a scar. 

“Why flowers?”

“Because they’re pretty like you.” 

What a simple, yet powerful answer. Despite your young age, you thought long and hard about his answer as you tentatively took care of the lilacs. With every day that the flower wilted, a fondness bloomed in your heart, and you learned that you like flowers, that you very much like the boy that gave them to you. 

After that, there was nothing that could tear you two apart, not even college. True, you’d spend a lot more time apart, face timing every other night and texting on the daily, but you’d still hold onto old traditions. You’d always be at his door at exactly 00:00 on his birthday, singing (poorly) a birthday song holding out a dessert you made yourself—a muffin with a candle stuck in the middle, strawberry shortcake (his favourite), cheesecake, cherry pie, even some pudding once. 

He would always pick matching Halloween costumes, and he’d always walk you home every chance he could. He remembers all your favourite coffee orders and, without failure, texts you good morning and goodnight. He watches out for you and holds your hand when you cross the street, squeezing once before he lets you go. And without failure every year for your birthday he gives you a bouquet of lilacs that’s simply twice as big as you are. 

You always believed that with time, Shouto would notice the longing in your eyes. After all, you weren’t really hiding it. Quite frankly, your love for him was seeping out of you: far too large for your body to contain. Every word you spoke to him was harbouring feelings, but alas, they were feelings that never reached him, their fingertips millimetres away from his heart. So close, yet too far away. 

But that’s okay. You loved him just the way he was—kind, reliable, and just a tad clueless. What he lacked, you made up for, and the same was true the other way around. You fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. He just didn’t know what that puzzle was yet. But that’s okay. You loved him just the way he was. 

And before you knew it, college was over too. Shouto went off to become the CEO of a big company. He was brilliant at his job. But then again, he was brilliant at most things. He could play the piano at the age of four and the violin by the time he was six. He was an incredible athlete, and he always had the best grades. Valedictorian. Graduating summa cum laude. 

You? You stayed true to your heart and did the thing that brought you most joy. You opened your own little flower shop in the old shopping district where you grew up. You’ve wanted one since you were six, and you’ve held the vision of what your workplace will look like since you were ten. You studied hard and went on multiple internships to polish your skills as a florist so you could stand where you are now. 

Your dream was slowly coming to life. 

You had just finished furnishing the store and setting up for your grand opening the next day when you heard a soft knock on the door, and a familiar face smiling behind it. And there they were—lilacs. 

“Congratulations.” His voice is low, serene, but his eyes hold a sparkle of excitement, a glimmer of pride. “You always wanted to have your own little shop. I’m so proud of you.”

His smile is enough to silence all your worries. As you lead him up to your little apartment above the shop, you tell him all about how you almost weren't going to be ready on time for the opening, about the delivery service that brought you the wrong order and now there were no red roses in your store. What self-respecting florist doesn’t have red roses in their store?

He told you about his work as you were placing the bouquet of lilacs into a big marble vase. Something about the stock market that you didn’t really understand, but you nodded along and listened closely anyway. He loosens his tie and makes himself comfortable in your home as he always has, but he doesn’t notice how long you stare at his tie. How much you wish you could just… pull him in by the tie. Does this man even know how good he looks in a suit? 

It’s always the same: He comes when he can, stays for dinner, talks about everything and anything—or nothing at all. His presence is soothing, yet so large; it fills every nook and cranny in your apartment. He belongs. With you. After dinner he doesn’t stay long, his workdays are longer, harder, so he can’t stay as long as he wishes to. But that’s okay. Because he kisses your forehead every time, and it sets off fireworks in your chest. 

“I’ll come tomorrow too. For your opening.” 

He was so big now, he took up the entire doorway. How time had changed him. His childish round cheeks were now gone, instead, he had a defined jaw. His big round eyes now had laugh lines around them. His hair was also longer now, combed and tied in a ponytail. He didn’t wear short jeans anymore but rather an expensive suit and watch. But he was still your Shouto. The boy who has always been there for you. 

“You don’t have to, you know, your schedule is busy enough as it is.” You offer him a way out, but you secretly hope he comes anyway. You want to see him again. You want him to say he’s proud of you again. You want him.

“I insist.” He smiles reassuringly. “I want to see your dream come true.”

At this you can’t help but laugh a little. 

“I owe it all to you.”

“Nonsense. You got here all on your own.” 

You shake your head. It’s not what you meant. I fell in love with flowers the day I fell in love with you. But the words never come out. They become a part of the graveyard of unspoken words that rests on your lips. But that’s okay. This is all you need. 

It’s okay.

Once he leaves the apartment feels much colder and your arms ache. Your heart feels just a little heavier once again. Just a little though. You’ve become exceptionally good at keeping these thoughts to yourself and channelling them into your work instead. You let your flowers talk for you. 

Carnations—I miss you.

Forget-me-nots—Please remember me. Selfishly, I hope you never forget me.

Amaryllis—the pride that stops me from revealing my feelings. 

Pink camellias—I long for you. To hold you. To call you mine.

Yellow tulips—a symbol of my hopeless, unrequited love. 

And of course, lilacs—you are my first love.

This is the great thing about flowers. Like relationships, they require a lot of love and care, and like long-lasting friendships, they carry so much meaning. Friendships, just like flowers, carry countless memories hidden between each petal, they carry expectations—the sun will rise each morning, the flowers will bloom, and he will always be right by your side.

Flowers hold so much meaning—for every feeling blooming in your chest, there is a flower to symbolize it. 

The petals of unspoken words lie heavy in your chest, but perhaps one day those petals will get scattered, and at least one will reach his heart. 

But for now… this is okay. This is enough.

It’s already the end of May, but it’s extraordinarily cold tonight, and the wind is unkindly bending tree branches under its will. There is no moon, nor any stars, just clouds of uncertainty and doubt. Flowers cannot bloom in darkness, so they wait for morning light. The same applies to people—hope comes to us at dawn. 

Shouto wakes up promptly at 5:55AM, exactly five minutes before his alarm. He’s barely awake, but his mind drifts to you. Would you be able to take an hour off for lunch? Perhaps dinner would be better? He wants to celebrate the happy occasion. He wants to see you, even if it’s for 10 minutes only. Even if it’s less, he wants to be close to you, to feel the comfort of your presence, to see you smile and hear you laugh. 

He doesn’t think twice as he picks out his suit, a neat lavender coloured tie to match his little pocket square. He has four other ties like this one, something about the colour just feels right to him. The first half of his day goes by in a blur, practically working on autopilot as his mind just keeps going back to you. Are you smiling right now? Is the opening day going well? 

He imagines you happily buried under a pile of flowers and chuckles to himself—something Midoriya doesn’t fail to notice, but evidently chooses not to ask about anyway. The green-haired man had a pretty good idea what was on his boss’s mind anyway. Which is why around 11:30 he practically kicks Shouto out of their shared office and reassures him that he has things handled. 

“You have more important things to do now, go on.”

His heart is beating quite fast in his chest, so he deliberately slows his pace in an attempt to calm himself. But it appears that the closer he gets to your little shop, the faster his heart seems to race. He briefly considers consulting a cardiologist, but shoves the thought aside as soon as he can make out your silhouette behind the register. Your voice carries through the shop like a melody, and for a while he just stands by the entrance and listens. 

“It’s been sooo long, I’ve missed you Denks, you should swing by more often! I never see your face anymore.” 

Shouto can’t quite see your face from the broad shoulders of the blonde man in front of the register, but he can hear the little pout in your voice. He can vividly picture it. 

“You’re absolutely right, let me make it up to you! Let me take you out to dinner sometime? I’d love to catch up, spend some quality time with my favourite florist.” 

There is a pang in Shouto’s heart. Who is this? A friend of yours? But he knows all your friends? 

“You know what, I’d love that. How about sometime this weekend?”

“Perfect! I’ll text you the details, okay? I gotta run for now, but thank you for the beautiful flowers! Almost as pretty as you are!” 

The unknown man leans over the register and places a tiny kiss on your cheek, grinning widely at you and waving his hand goodbye. He doesn’t even look at Shouto as he passes him by at the door. 

“Shooo! You came!” He barely has time to compose himself and react to you throwing yourself on him and wrapping your hands around his neck. The moment you touch him all his previous thoughts fly out the window. Nothing else matters but you being in his arms. 

“Of course I came, it’s my girl’s big day today.” 

Once again, everything feels easy, natural. It feels like home, like you are a place he can return to whenever he needs to, a safe haven. The rest is easy—talk, have lunch, laugh, discuss visiting your parents soon, having a family dinner together since it’s been some time. But the question remains, gnawing at him. 

“Hey, um… who was that blonde man you were talking to right before I walked in? You two seemed familiar?” He hated how the word tastes in his mouth: bitter and unpleasant.

“Hm? Oh, Denki? Old college mate, but he quit his study midway because he moved away for a while. Apparently he kept my number, reached out to me the other day saying he’s back in town so I told him to stop by my shop!” You smile fondly, and it tugs at Shouto’s heart. It feels strange. His hands are sweating. 

It doesn’t feel easy anymore. 

It doesn’t feel natural. 

As usual, he walks you back home, wishes you luck with the rest of the day, and gives you a forehead kiss, yet it doesn’t give him the same feeling of calmness it usually does. It feels stiff. Rushed. Why are his legs carrying him out of your shop so quickly? Why is his mind racing without having any particular direction? Why? 

Once back in the office he thinks he could bury these feelings with work, he hoped it would be a sufficient distraction until he can schedule an appointment with a good doctor. But Midoriya beats him to it. 

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing, just have a lot on my mind. Need to focus.”

“Uh, no. Spill. What’s on little Shouto’s mind?”

And Shouto knows better than to argue and evade. They have been friends for years, and Izuku Midoriya is known for his persistence and his need to help others. A good man, a man he trusted with half his company, so why shouldn’t he trust him with the mess of feelings in his head? 

So he does. He tells him about the other man, the conversation, the date plan for the weekend, the ugly feelings that it gave rise to, the struggle to understand them. The youngest Todoroki bared his heart to his friend, hoping that he would have some insight, an answer as to why he feels so strange. 

But he just laughs. An exasperated chuckle, and he buries his face in his hands, fingers running through green locks as some sort of ritual to help him remain calm.

“You cannot possibly be this oblivious, Sho…”

“What do you mean?” he replies in earnest. Izuku sighs once again. 

“Okay, uhm… is this the first time you feel like this?”

Shouto ponders for a moment and searches his memory. The answer comes quite fast, no, this wasn’t the first time. It has happened before—in middle school when you got paired to do a science project with another boy and you stayed with him after school. He felt a similar pang when you would laugh at that other boy’s jokes. When you would lend him a pen, or your notes.

And then again in high school, when all the other boys were raging with hormones and would stare at your legs a little too long. I made him frustrated, angry even. Why? When one of his classmates hinted he had a crush on you, it made his chest feel heavy. It made him green with envy, it made him lose sleep that night. Yet his heart felt as light as a feather as soon as he learned you rejected his advances. 

It had happened before. He had been jealous before. 

“And why do you think you were jealous?” Izuku pressed further, giving Shouto enough room to sort his own feelings out. 

“Because… I respect her, and I want the best for her?” He still sounds puzzled, so the green-haired man gives him another gentle nudge. 

“I’m sure that’s true, but is that all it is? Do you think anyone is ever going to be good enough for her?” Izuku raises his eyebrow, lips curling into a knowing smile.

“No.” Shouto shoots out immediately, eyebrows furrowed and chewing on his lower lip. 

“No. Nobody will ever be good enough, I… Fuck.” His foot was furiously bouncing under the table, his whole body felt tense, on edge. Like the eerie feeling that you’re forgetting something important. Like when a certain word or phrase is at the tip of your tongue, but refuses to roll off and come to reality. 

“So, you care for her, you respect her, you feel jealous when other men approach her with a romantic interest, and you think nobody will be good enough for her. Sho, you’re a brilliant man, so tell me, what do you think that means?” Izuku gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and a little squeeze, giving him the courage to come to terms with reality. 

And surely, almost like a movie, all the memories of you play inside his head. The first time you tried coffee jelly and scrunched up your nose in disgust because it was too bitter for you. When you cut your hair short and ended up hating it, refusing to come out of your room for a week. When you got drunk for the first time at a karaoke bar and sang “My heart will go on” while on top of a table. You, in your prom dress, posing for photos as the sun sets behind you. It was probably a beautiful sunset, but he couldn’t care less for it at the time. He only had eyes for you. 

Everything you did was wonderful. 

He found the way you scrunch your nose at things you dislike to be adorable. He thought you looked as beautiful as always with short hair. He adored how happy you look whenever you sang. To him, you were perfect. To him, you were his entire world. 

It makes sense now. All the puzzle pieces fall together and the realization makes him feel like he could fly. 

“I’m… I love her.” He finally looks up at his friend only to find him smiling back at him. 

“Well, what are you standing there for? Go to her!”

The sky is dark. When had it gotten this late? His feet were carrying him through the narrow streets, lavender tie discarded a long time ago. As soon as Midoriya said those words his feet moved on their own. Didn’t even stop to get his car, he just ran out the office, sprinting like his whole life depended on it. 

He loves you. 

He has to run faster, God he needs to tell you. How can he be so blind? How could he miss that the colour of lilac reminds him of you? Or miss the fact that you’re always on his mind? How can he not see that you’re in every detail in his life? All the feelings that previously had no names are back, swallowing him whole. Longing. Jealousy. Regret.

His hair is no longer tied in a neat ponytail, it’s loose and wild from the wind, it’s as messy as his feelings are, but that doesn't matter right now. Two more blocks, and he’ll be at your apartment. What does he say? What is his plan? What if he’s too late? 

Heart hammering in his chest, he takes the stairs up to your apartment two at a time. God, his hands are shaking, his face feels warm. Wet. But his hand is already knocking on the door. It’s not soft like the usual, it’s urgent, it’s desperate. His mind is spinning, why is his face wet?

The door creaks open and there you are in your sunny yellow dress, perfect. Always been perfect. For him. 

“Shouto, what ar—”

“I love you.” It’s barely above a whisper, and the silence following these three words is deafening. 

The sound of the TV fades into the background, there are no birds, no cars outside. Just the two of you. The moment feels static, completely still, yet still buzzing with energy. It stretches longer than it should, as if time warps and stops to make way for love. The world feels small right now, it shrinks and the entirety of it fills the tiny hallway.   

You don’t say anything, you simply brush his tears away with your thumb, searching his eyes. His hair is dishevelled, chest heaving. He ran here?

“Again.” 

It takes a moment for Shouto to register what you’re asking of him. He takes a step closer, shortening the distance between you two. 

“I love you. I have for… for quite some time now.”

The words make you simultaneously feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and also as if there is an elephant sitting on your chest. It’s hard to breathe and your eyes feel prickly, even your voice quivers. 

“Again.”

He takes another step and he’s impossibly close to you now, his large warm hands cradling your face, heterochromatic eyes staring into yours. 

“I love you. You’re the only one for me, I’m… sorry it took me so long, I—”

Now it’s your turn to cut him off by pulling him by the collar of his white shirt and kissing him. His lips are soft, and a little wet from the tears, but so sweet. Gentle. Another step forward and then another, and you’re slowly being pushed back into your apartment, your back hits the wall as he deepens the kiss. When his own desire and impatience finally slip through the cracks he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing himself impossibly hard against you. 

“Sho.. m’not goin’ n..ywhere.” You try to mumble through the kiss, but it only elicits a smile in response. When he finally pulls away you can see his face is dusted with pink, eyes raking over you as if he’s seeing you for the very first time. 

“Please… please be mine?” 

There are many emotions in his tone—desire, fear, jealousy, pure excitement. Hope. They’re the words you’ve always wanted to hear, and now that you have, you can’t help but wonder if you’re hallucinating. If this is just a very vivid dream. If it is a dream, then surely, the next part won’t matter once you wake up. Right?

“You silly man, I’ve been yours since I was six. God… You made me wait so long.” 

You’re smiling, but there are tears streaming down your face. All the feelings that you had to express through flowers, all the unspoken words, the longing, it’s flooding your senses like a broken dam. 

You feel the rough pads of his fingers under your eyes, wiping the tears the same way you did for him. Once again, he kisses your forehead, after which he simply presses his own to yours. 

“Let me make it up to you. Please.” 

Your name sounds so sweet coming from his lips right now. A plea for consent, a plea to allow him to finally have you. Make you his own. Erase everyone else from your mind until there is only him. Permission for him to be selfish.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me.”

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

#holytext.exe #shouto #todoroki shouto #shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto #shoto #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shouto sfw #todoroki shouto sfw #bnha sfw #todoroki shouto comfort #shouto comfort #todoroki shouto hurt/comfort #shouto hurt/comfort #bnha hurt/comfort #cw.jealousy

[amive2567]

Ingredients: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!Reader ; Izuku Midoriya x fem!Reader ; Shoto Todoroki x fem!Reader

Contains: nail polish, some bad humor, the overusage of the word look, not proof-read

Type of order: hot chocolate (fluff), a tiny crazy Milkshake (crack/humor), Macarons (headcanons)

Taglist:@loveing-eyes A/n: First, this was planned to be a little funny and lighthearted something, but it turned into a bigger lighthearted something (at least for Midoriya and Todoroki). It was really funny to write, so I hope I can make you smile with this. (And I made some new banners for the headcanons:) )

He acts like he doesn't want to and always gets a little angry when you ask him to do so

When Kirishima came into the agency with black nails, he wanted them colored too

You were all over happy and colored his nails suiting to his hero suit

When someone made comments about them, he always mentioned you, but he also was a bit distant about really wanting this

When people copied his look, he became even more proud of it

Every time someone asked him about his great nail, he would tell them that you painted his nails like the goddess you are, but the main inspiration came from Kirishima

He would never leave the house without painted nails ever again

As he came back from work, he tried to be as quiet as he could since you had your monthly girls' night at your place today

He got rid of his shoes and tried to shuffle into your bedroom

The last time he interrupted your little get-together, Mina dragged him into the pillow fort got forced to apply a mask, but it turned out he had been allergic to the ingredients

His face was red for three whole days, and his team made fun of him

You needed to reassure him a lot after that

Shouto became more cautious about your girl's night and tried to be at work during them, but today he was forced to go home by his sidekick since he pulled all-nighter after all-nighter to find the murderer of some rich CEO

The bags under his eyes were huge and you began to worry, so for your sake, he stopped working and took some days off

but as he entered the huge hallway, he wanted to run back to work

Mina came down the hallway, he was too slow to hide behind the huge plant you placed there

"Nice to see you, Todoroki. You look like you could use a way to relax, the bags under your eyes are huge." she greeted him, excitedly

"Thanks, for the compliment." he answered sarcastically "But no thank you I am alright." 

He tried to move on, but Mina grabbed his arm and dragged him with her

"Wait you know what happened last time. Bakugou still teases me, I can gladly live without this." Todoroki told her, but she cold-heartedly ignored him

"Look who came home," she shouted into your cozy living room

Yaoyoruzu, Tsuyu, Uraraka, Jirou, Hagakure, and you gretted him

His eyes were begging for help, you smiled gently at him and mouthed "It won't be that bad, I will protect you"

His frown turned into a gentle smile, but your nonverbal exchange got soon interrupted

"Geez, you can flirt later. We need to give Todoroki a nice treatment, he works so hard," announced Mina as she clapped anticipating

Hagakure made the Make-Up ready and Momo grabbed the facemasks from her bag

Todoroki took a step back as he noticed the small sheetmasks in her hands

his eyes widened, he will not go through this humiliation once again

"I think a little pedicure, will do the job lays. I guess we don't want it to turn out like the last time." You reasoned and took the masks from Momo's hands

"That's right, gladly I bought this new nail polish from Les Mains Hermès. I guess Rouge Amazone is a suitable color to suit his hair," explained Momo excitedly. 

Ochako looked confused at her. "What is Rouge Amazone and Les Mains Hermès?" "A costly Parisian nail polish in a particular red tone," said Momo, even more, confused because of Urarakas lack of 'basic knowledge 

Mina shoved Todoroki into the middle of the pillow circle and he was trapped inside a circle of girls

You started painting his nails gently while trying not to spill any of the expensive polish, in the meantime Mina, Hagakure, and Ochako attempted to get ready for the film marathon

After the nail polish dried Shoto smiled at you

"It turned out beautifully." mused Shoto

After that, he stayed in your little group and watched cheesy romance soaps with your friends

He didn't take off the nail polish for the next few weeks, but as it vanished he asked you to paint them again

As the number one pro hero, he had to not only rescue civilians but also be the cover of hero weekly and other gossip newspaper

The makeup and everything didn't bother him in the slightest, but the nail polish looked oddly

He tried to reason with the staff, but they all told him that it suits him, but they always smeared honey around his mouth one way or the other

On this day, he came home wondering how to get rid of it

Izuku was never one to complain, but it somehow bothered him, and felt ugly with it

You were already getting ready for bed as he slumped through the entrance

"Good evening, sweety. How was your day?" you greeted him

"They smeared some nail polish on my nails, and the color looks disgusting. But I can't get rid of this for the next shooting tomorrow," he answered truthfully 

You took his hands in his and observed what the nail artist did

"You are not wrong, this color doesn't suit your green hair. Maybe we could try a different color, and you could show them tomorrow. Just set your trend." 

He was amused by your "rebellious" side and agreed to color it again. He nodded and agreed "You're right, could you do it for me? Please?" 

His green doe eyes sparkled and you could never say no to this look

"Yeah, of course, darling."

Gently you removed the ugly royal blue

"So I guess we take a decent tone. I would recommend some Beige" you tried to sound like a professional, but your attempt failed as you clumsily dropped the polish and it stained the small lime-green carpet.

You hastily picked it up and tried to act as if nothing happened

Izuku tried to hold his laugh, but he also failed

"Gosh, your clumsiness makes me love you even more," he mumbled between a few waves of laughter

 Your cheeks turned into a slight shade of red, but you tried to compose yourself and painted his nails

After it dried, you allowed Izuku to brush his teeth and get ready for bed

"It looks so much better, thank you, honey," he mumbled while you were cuddling in bed

On the next day, you were hoping the press was doing fine with your change

Izuku came home smiling brightly at you

"Darling, you are a true trendsetter, they loved it. It will probably be the new spring trend. The nail artist loved it too. Maybe you should think about a change in profession." he smiled and hugged you tightly

#ami writes #bnha #mha #bnha x fem!reader #mha x female reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou fluff #shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya

[willowser]

anyway while i was in Time Out writing android shouto fic, i had some very kirishima ex machina-esque thoughts.

eijirou works at some esteemed, todoroki-owened programming company, along with kaminari and bakugou and izuku and—the ceo's son himself. and he and shouto aren't super close, but they have enough mutual friends that they chat, every now and then, and a few months go by before shouto gives him the odd invitation out to his private lake house, to check out what he's been working on.

and eijirou is a nice guy ! won't turn down the opportunity to hang with a bro ! so he goes and—it's very private, out in the middle of nowhere, expensive and minimalistic and full of floor-to-cieling glass windows and smart home features.

shouto gives him a very basic, vague rundown on what he's been doing with ai. how he's been testing it, the results he's come up with, how he needs help figuring out a few more things. and then he puts him in a room with you.

the thing that gets me with this au is that—he's so empathetic. it doesn't matter if he can see that you're literally wires and metal plating with a constructed face 🥺 he asks you about your day and you answer very plainly and listen to him when he talks and smile at a joke he tells, you even laugh, and tell him it's the first time you think you've done so.

and he falls so headfirst. so quickly. nothing against todoroki but you make a stray comment about wanting to see the sunlight and he's laying awake at night trying to figure out how he's gonna get you out 🥺

#he's so alfnfuakqkql #like. he knows you're not a real person. #but you smile and laugh and look sad when he has to go and he's like—heart eyes so quick #this does not end with you ******* him btw this is a happy ending alfbeiakfhak #✿ thoughts: kirishima

[andypantsx3]

no but think about what the new years art means for shouto’s hero career lmao

this dude will do anything you ask him?? pro hero meet and greets start having to release specifications for what kind of props you can bring to ask a hero to pose with. shouto’s pr team has to issue him a little carrying card with hand signals he is absolutely not allowed to do under any circumstances. twitter is overrun with extensive threads that have titles like “every time todoroki shouto had to check his no no card” and “todoroki shouto: ceo of accidental fan service”

#this makes me want to write another shouto x manager reader fic #where reader is just like Suffering #trying to keep this man from accidentally nuking his own public image

[sightoru]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎... and happy new year!! I wanted to make a post showcasing some of my favorite things i've read this year, and thank you all for sticking with me as i transition from writing on tumblr to ao3!

I do want to do a separate shoutout for @mybigbangacademia and the wonderful people i met there! it was so great to be part of something that challenged me to write, and it was so great to work together as a community ! linky.

please let me know if you'd like to be removed or untagged as well! i really don't mind at all. I also wanna say this is for fics i've read THIS YEAR, regardless of when they were posted.

now without further ado...

𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒...

𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐀.... by @dilu3 scaramouche x reader, tattoo au. this is so fucking good and i literally love everything about it.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒.... by @eremikan natsuo, dabi, shigaraki, keigo x reader. it's written in a gorgeous way, very unique and i love the entire story. mari has a stunning way with words and it shows through the entire piece. i cant wait to see where it goes!! MIND THE TAGS!

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐒... by @andypantsx3 andy is so incredible and i literally devour everything they write like a boa constrictor. the most canon shouto todoroki i've ever read, and im ngl im not a massive shouto simp??? but i am eating this fic up.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃... by @yeagerbombs CEO of canon zhongli. the pining and build up is incredible, i love readers personality in this as well!!! very elaborate and stunning and one of my favorite versions of zhongli i have ever read.

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄... by @katsukiskitkat literally some of the best world building i've ever read in my life, binge read everything in a day in my bed while i was clutching my phone and kicking my feet like a school girl. absolutely incredible.

𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐄...

𝐔𝐆𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐘... soggy by @mintmatcha. this gutted me and i will never be the same again.

𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐘... study buddy by @sems-diarie , sem always does my baby izuku right (OUR baby) and this is just another one she did beautifully.

𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋...dead young and fair by @j0succ turned me into a diluc simp??? its so stunning and beautifully written and everything about it made my heart ache.

𝐈𝐃𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓... what doesn't kill me makes me want you more by @dottores / @twdottore im not even INTO TR (not for any particular reason) and yes i did have to look up what these dudes look like but it did not stop me from devouring this like a man starved.

𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒...

@tteokdoroki 's the sinister six event, which combines my two favorite things: smut, and long fic. aali killed it last year, she killed it this year and if she decides too, she'll do amazing next year.

@anantaru's kinktober was a full course meal every single day of october. they're built different, idk how they did it but they did and i applaud them. raising my glass to them like that leonardo dicaprio meme.

@vampyrsm 's kinktober was nothing short of perfect. i've reread these like 4 times.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒...

@hanmas nsfw + sfw + multifandom.

@spacelabrathor nsfw + bnha + sprinkle of dc + longfic

@haruchiyos dc + nsfw + multifandom

@oh-katsuki dc + nsfw/sfw + multifandom + longfic

@petrichorium nsfw + multifandom

@willowser sfw + bnha

@willowser-but-nsfw nsfw + bnha

@vagabondings nsfw + multifandom

@hawnks nsfw + sfw + multifandom + long fic

@saneminx nsfw + multifandom

@alhaithms nsfw + sfw + multifandom

@tinie nsfw + sfw + multifandom

@dearbraus nsfw + sfw + multifandom

thank you all for a great year!

#[✩|recs]

[lackyghost]

Bakugou Katsuki grumbles as he walks, his shitty, coffee soaked shirt in hand. His pale blonde hair is wild, speckled with more of the brown bean juice. His black tank top is basically sealed against his front, leaving the outline of the usually concealed inner binding layer obviously visible.

He’s following after a guy he would very reluctantly consider a friend. The guy is silent as he goes, his own left shoulder soaked in coffee, some splashes in the white portion of his bicolored hair, split straight down the middle, red on the clean side.

Todoroki Shouto looks back at Katsuki, his mismatched turquoise and gray eyes locking with Katsuki’s scarlet ones, which are burning with indignance.

“It’s just up this path,” Shouto says.

“Whatever,” Katsuki grouses, his voice deep and laced with a growl.

The blonde wishes he could say he’s surprised when Shouto turns up the path to a massive, traditional style home, but he’s not. He knows the guy’s father is some ultra-rich CEO.

Shouto slides open the front door a little harshly and it bangs open. Before Katsuki can even step up into the genkan, a deep voice yells out “SHOUTO!” the name is drawn out, exaggerated, and Shouto sighs in annoyance.

A moment later, a slightly older man rounds the corner, a shit-eating grin on his face. He’s got the same pale skin as Shouto, and he’s a little taller, with snow white hair and bright turquoise irises.

His skin is coated in tattoos, all black, pale blue, and plum purples, snaking up his toned, shirtless torso, over both shoulders, down his strong arms to the backs of his hands. It curls up over his throat as well, ending up along the lower portion of his jaw, leading up to his face full of piercings.

Shark bite rings in his lower lip, three studs in his earlobes and rings all up his helixes, three tiny studs in his left nostril, barbells in both of his eyebrows.

“How’d I do?” The guy asks, planting his hands on his hips. “I’ve been practicing.”

"You're impossible, Touya," Shouto says, moving to the side so that Katsuki can step in beside him.

As soon as Touya’s gaze lands on Katsuki, his eyes blow wide. He clenches his jaw in an effort to not let it drop as he soaks in the man’s stunning face, gorgeous even with those pink lips twisted in a scowl.

Katsuki, on the other hand, has no qualms checking the elder man out.

"You get into a fight with a Sharpie and a stapler?" The blonde questions, voice deep and gruff, and Touya is in love.

“Todoroki Touya,” the tattooed man says, not offering his hand, just a smirk that is borderline psychotic.

“Didn’t fucking ask, Patchwork,” Katsuki grouses.

Touya’s grin widens and he eyes the stained boys before him. “Did a coffee machine explode?”

“Some bastard ordered the wrong fucking thing and decided it was my fucking fault,” Katsuki snarls angrily as he kicks his shoes off.

“So, Shouto was being kind and offered to help you out, so sweet,” Touya coos.

“No, he is the one who made the fucking drink,” Katsuki says, glaring at the bicolored man.

“I also got wet,” Shouto says, gesturing to his sleeve.

“I will fucking kill you,” Katsuki growls.

Touya snickers. “You can try, but us Todorokis are hard to kill.”

“I’m determined,” Katsuki says flatly.

“Stop flirting,” Shouto says tiredly.

Katsuki’s eyes go wide and his upper cheeks flush pink. “I—I am not fucking flirting!”

“I am,” Touya says cheerfully. “Come on, Doll, I think my clothes would fit you better than my scrawny little brother’s.”

“Fuck off,” Shouto says, annoyed.

Katsuki, however, throws his soaked shirt in Shouto’s face and looks to Touya as he steps into a pair of guest slippers. “Well? Fucking hurry up.”

Touya smirks, pleased, and spins on his heel to lead the way to his bedroom. Katsuki flips Shouto off as he follows, the bicolored boy returns the gesture.

Katsuki eyes the Todoroki house as they go, taking in the traditional styles all throughout the place, rice paper in the sliding doors, tatami mats, and classical ink artwork of samurai.

Touya’s room is one of the larger, as he’s the eldest sibling and had claimed dibs on it a long time ago. While he does have his own little studio apartment closer to the city, he’s always maintained his room here for convenience.

“This looks about your size,” Touya says, tossing a shirt to Katsuki.

The blonde grunts and looks around. “Bathroom?”

Touya gives him a curious look, but points to a door attached to his room. Katsuki nods and heads in there, shutting the door behind himself.

He peels his tank top up and unclasps the binder portion, immediately taking in a deep breath as his lungs are able to fully expand. He peels the drenched fabric off, his small breasts coming free.

He avoids looking at them in the mirror; even small as they are, they’re breasts and he hates them.

There’s a sheen of coffee on his skin though, and he looks around for a washcloth, finding one in the little closet and quickly wetting it so he can wipe himself down.

“Oh, I found this!” Touya’s voice shouts moments before the door is shoved open.

Katsuki’s arms fly up to cross over his chest as indignance and shame flush his cheeks a vibrant red. “Do you know how to fucking knock!?”

“Oh, sorry,” Touya says, holding out the white fabric in his hands. “I know it’s not the same thing, but it’s a compression tank. Figured it might help.”

Katsuki’s whole body freezes and he blinks at the man, who just holds the item out, a small smile on his lips. The blonde slowly reaches out with one hand to take the tank top, feeling his chest tightening up in a new way.

“Thanks,” he says, voice rougher than usual.

“Lemme know if you want a hoodie or whatever on top of that,” Touya says, and then leaves the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself.

Katsuki pulls the tank on, it definitely isn’t that great as it’s a mild compression, but it’s miles better than nothing at all. He pulls the t-shirt on over top of it, snorting out a soft laugh when he looks in the mirror and sees the bold ‘FUCK OFF’ in English along the front.

“So edgy,” he muses, and then gathers up his tank top and the washcloth and steps out of the room.

Touya looks up from where he was lazily lounging on his bed and gives the blonde a lopsided grin. “Looks good on you, Doll.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” the blonde says, nose scrunching up. “Name’s Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Sure thing, Doll,” Touya says cheerfully, sitting up and pocketing his phone while the blonde glowers at him.

“You’re an asshole,” Katsuki says dryly.

“Yes,” Touya agrees easily.

“You seriously need to learn personal space,” Katsuki adds.

“Probably,” Touya says, shrugging. “Does that binder need hand washing, or will it work on a gentle cycle?”

Katsuki furrows his brows. “Hand only. I’ll wash it at home.”

“We’ve got a tub in the laundry room,” Touya says, cocking a brow.

Katsuki grimaces slightly. “I don’t… not a lot of people know.”

“Oh,” Touya says, blinking.

“I don’t know how the fuck you know, but you need to keep your fucking mouth shut,” Katsuki says, scowling heavily. “I’m fucking serious, Patchwork.”

“I just noticed your binder,” Touya says, shrugging. “I’ve got a couple of trans friends. I guess I just notice that shit.”

Katsuki calms a little at that, but he still hates the simmering shame inside of him, knowing that someone found out the secret he’s tried hard to hide over the years.

“Just show me where the fucking laundry room is,” he grumbles.

“Sure thing, Doll,” Touya chirps.

“I told you not to call me that,” the blonde snaps.

“Whatever you say, Katsuki,” Touya says and the younger nearly trips over his own feet as his face flushes a bright red.

“Wh-what the fuck!?” He says, voice pitched up in embarrassment.

Touya just hums, amused, and continues leading the way to the laundry room. Katsuki growls under his breath, but follows after the man who is somehow an absolute asshole and weirdly considerate. He’s a walking, talking, smirking oxymoron.

The laundry room is fully tiled, the machines modern and sleek, with a large washing basin to one side, a washboard hung next to it, and a series of clothes lines beneath little dryer fans in the ceiling.

“What the fuck,” Katsuki mutters and Touya snorts.

“Right? Wish I had this shit in my apartment,” he says as he opens a cupboard above a long counter and pulls out a box of washing soap for sensitive skin. “Need any help?”

“Fuck off,” Katsuki says, swiping the box from him and crossing the room to go to the sink.

Touya gives a considering hum. “Okay.”

Katsuki ignores him as he turns the water on, making sure it’s cold, but not too cold, and then adding in a little of the washing powder.

He scrubs the top carefully between his hands, rolling it until the water is a faded brown color. He drains the basin and refills it, repeating the process a second time before rinsing it thoroughly and then draining the sink.

He turns to hang the binder up and nearly drops it when he sees Touya there, leaning against the counter by the washer and dryer.

“What the fuck?” He blurts out.

Touya just looks up from where he’d been scrolling through social media on his phone. “I made hot chocolate.”

He points to the two steaming mugs on the counter beside him and Katsuki’s eye twitches. He scowls as he moves to hang his tank top up, trying to clip it up so it looks like a normal tank top. He flips the switch on the wall for the fans and is surprised at how silent they are.

Touya shoves his phone in his pocket and grabs the mugs, moving over to Katsuki’s side and tapping his elbow against the blonde’s, gathering his attention.

““Wanna go sit down and watch a shit movie?” Touya asks, and then takes a sip of his cocoa, holding the other out to the blonde.

“Why would I want to watch a shitty movie?” Katsuki questions, bewildered, as he takes the offered mug.

“So that you can make fun of it, obviously,” Touya says.

Katsuki blinks slowly. “Okay.”

“Good choice, Katsuki,” Touya says, and the blonde blushes again, but bites his tongue against another retort as he follows the guy out to the living room.

Touya flops down on the couch and pats the space right next to him, so Katsuki sits on the opposite end, as far from the tattooed man as possible. Touya pouts, but grabs the remote and turns on some horrible movie about zombie beavers.

When the first horribly made puppet zombie beaver pops up on screen Katsuki snorts, and when it leaps at a person and bites into their throat, the blonde throws his head back and laughs.

Touya smirks, eyes crinkling as he soaks up the sound, using the blonde’s distraction to inch closer and closer to the shorter man.

Katsuki isn’t an idiot though, and he notices the tattooed man ebbing closer. His heart thuds with each scoot over, and he finds himself biting back grins at how satisfied the man looks, thinking he’s getting away with it.

When Touya is just close enough, Katsuki swats him upside the head. “You ain’t sly, Patches.”

Touya laughs and grins at the blonde. “So, you like me getting close, eh?”

“Sh-shut up, I didn’t fucking say that,” Katsuki says, scrunching his nose up.

Touya hums thoughtfully. “See, now, I think you’re the type of person who would’ve shoved me to the floor if you didn’t want me this close.”

The tattooed man drops all pretenses at being a shitty ninja and turns fully to face the blonde, leaning in closer, eyes lidding. “I think you find me as interesting as I find you.”

Katsuki swallows thickly. “So what if I do?”

“Date me,” Touya says.

Katsuki’s eyebrows raise. “Date you?”

“Yeah,” Touya says, nodding, a grin tugging his lips up. Katsuki pretends that he needs any amount of time at all to consider that. “Fine.”

#my hero academia #ao3 link #dabibaku #dbbk #bakudabi #dabi x bakugou katsuki #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #my hero fanfic #fluff #meet cute

[ao3feed-tododeku]

#AO3 Link #FanFiction #AO3 Tododeku #💚 #💙 #Tododeku #♥ #R:T #W:V #A:Deliciacite

[ladysunamireads]

#AO3 Link #FanFiction #AO3 Tododeku #♥ #Tododeku #BNHA #⚣ #🐰❄️🔥 #R:T #Angst #A:Deliciacite

[tteokdoroki]

the only billionaire I like is ceo shouto todoroki offering me to be his sugar baby

frothing at the mouth i wanna see him whip out his black card with his daddy’s money on it and tell me i can get whatever i want

#✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #✧ ₊˚💬੭ — unknown messenger #GRRRRRRRRRR #SHOUTO WITH A SUGAR BABBYYYY

[wttcsms]

ok revisiting an old draft where it’s roommates to lovers, um daddy issues, trust fund party girl in college whose father doesn’t trust her to live on her own so he basically gives you a babysitter in the form of a trusted family friend — slightly older and no nonsense character who is stressed abt inheriting the position of ceo from his uncle’s company but idk if i wanna do a bllk boy or shouto todoroki or akaashi from hq. too many options but it’s at 11k rn

#do ppl even read shouto fics anymore #or hq fics #lmk #omg this is soooo sae or rin coded #i act like the itoshi brothers and isagi r the only bllk characters i can write #send me ideas

[ao3feed-bnha-girls]

Absolutely Obsessed

Absolutely Obsessed by cbace 11

Eijiro Kirishima knew he was attractive. Surely everyone thinks they are beautiful in a sense, or that they are enticing to look at sometimes. But he knew he was attractive. I mean why would he be so outrageously popular everywhere he went. First his looks are what drew people in, then his personality did the work to trap the audience around him to love him as they should.

And there's nothing wrong in knowing yourself as a pretty person. I mean why do you think people try to chase beauty down and steal it to have for themselves. Because being beautiful has it's own privileges. Being desired makes you famous. Being wanted makes you a god.

But Kirishima had times where he found himself undesirable, though they were only a handful of times. Almost everyone feels that way at times, even the top model of the century who does runway shows for the top selling brands. Kirishima loved the way he looked though, everything about himself. He also knew that other people did too.

Which brings up the question, who was putting a huge bouquet of flowers on his desk this morning.

Words: 2910, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Ashido Mina, Kaminari Denki, Jirou Kyouka, Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Office, Secret Admirer, Gifts, Pining Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki is a Good Friend, CEO Bakugou Katsuki, Secretary Kirishima Eijiro, Kirishima Eijirou is Bad at Feelings, Ashido Mina is a Good Friend, Mutual Pining, Soft Bakugou Katsuki, Cute Kirishima Eijirou

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47199859

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Mina #♤ #Kiribaku· #Mina Ashido #Denki Kaminari #Jirou Kyouka #👽 #R:T #A:Cbace

[ao3feed-bakusquad]

Ride or Die

Ride or Die by google CEO

A wholesome text/chat-fic surrounding Class 1-A.

• Shinsou replaces Mineta (because fuck that little troll) • No Koda, Shoji, or Sato will be included (i love them, but none of them have enough personality for me to incorporate them in)

Words: 693, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki, Ashido Mina, Asui Tsuyu, Sero Hanta, Iida Tenya, Uraraka Ochako, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Class 1-A, Class 1-A Girls, Class 1-A Boys, Yaoyorozu Momo, Tokoyami Fumikage, Hagakure Tooru, Aoyama Yuuga

Relationships: Ashido Mina & Bakugou Katsuki & Kaminari Denki & Kirishima Eijirou & Sero Hanta, Asui Tsuyu & Iida Tenya & Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto & Uraraka Ochako, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Class 1-A, Class 1-A & Shinsou Hitoshi, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki & Kirishima Eijirou & Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki & Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki & Todoroki Shouto

Additional Tags: chat-fic, chatfic, text-fic, Textfic, Texting, Text Icons, Class 1-A Shenanigans, Shinsou Hitoshi Replaces Mineta Minoru, Shinsou Hitoshi is in Class 1-A, Shinsou Hitoshi is in the Bakusquad, Mineta Minoru Doesn't Exist, chatroom, Class 1-A Group Chat, Group chat, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Class 1-A as Family, Class 1-A Friendship, No Angst, No Plot/Plotless, Wholesome

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43932376

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Bakugou #♦ #Bakugou Katsuki #Izuku Midoriya #Eijirou Kirishima #Denki Kaminari #Mina Ashido #💥 #💎 #A:Google #Bakusquad #Chat Fic #Fluff

[sero-pairo]

Glazed Donuts

by ThatOne1Writer

When a friend gives you a quick and easy way to make cash, you take it. Until you realize that means bending one of the most well known CEO's over his desk and fucking him while he takes a call. Thats something you didnt prepare for. - - This is purely so I can get better at writing smut and plot. There is no set posting/updating schedule, I'll update when I have time or am inspired to add. So please...no begging for updates...

Words: 228, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, M/M

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki, Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Iida Tenya, Sero Hanta, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Todoroki Natsuo, Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Takami Keigo | Hawks, Asui Tsuyu, Uraraka Ochako, Jirou Kyouka, Yaoyorozu Momo, Aoyama Yuuga, Monoma Neito, Kendou Itsuka, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki/Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Iida Tenya/Sero Hanta, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko/Todoroki Natsuo, Dabi | Todoroki Touya/Takami Keigo | Hawks, Asui Tsuyu/Uraraka Ochako, Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo, Aoyama Yuuga/Monoma Neito, Kendou Itsuka/Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Bakugou Katsuki, Sugar Daddy Shinso Hitoshi, Sugar Daddy Todoroki Shouto, Sugar Daddy Iida Tenya, Sugar Baby Kirishima Eijirou, Sugar Baby Kaminari Denki, Sugar Baby Midoriya Izuku, sugar baby sero hanta, Established Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Established Kaminari Denki/Shinsou Hitoshi, Established Iida Tenya/Sero Hanta, Shameless Smut, 2-3 year age gap, Anal Sex, Lingerie, Spanking, Face-Sitting, Genital Piercing, BDSM Undertones, Power Bottom Bakugou Katsuki, Submissive Top Kirishima Eijirou, tododeku - Freeform, kiribaku, shinkami, dabihawks - Freeform, seroiida, erasermic, PowderedSnow

from AO3 works tagged 'Iida Tenya/Sero Hanta', https://ift.tt/SeY4xbZ

#iidasero #seroiida #iida x sero #tenya iida #sero hanta #sero x iida #iisero #bnha #mha #bnha fic

[shingekinohyrulewrites]

Strictly Business

Shouto Todoroki seemingly has a perfect life - he's rich, has a beautiful wife, and is extremely handsome.

You are his secretary, fresh out of college and trying to get a foot in the business world.

Your boss asks you for a favor, and out of it comes an affair.

Did we mention your boss is married ?

Read first chapter here

Read previous chapter here

It was rare that Momo Yaoyorozu was confused.

She prided herself on her intellect, on her ability to problem solve and to think rationally. It was part of the reason why she had agreed to assist her family with their company, to serve as a confidant instead of a leader. It was also part of the reason why she had married Shouto Todoroki - she wanted to be his confidant and help him any way she could.

However, while the beginning of their marriage had been bliss, things recently had been . . . tense. Although Shouto had always been a workaholic, recently he seemed to be even more of a workaholic. He would stay late or disappear on weekends, claiming that he was meeting some new startup company or accommodating some business who could only meet on weekends. Whenever she surprised him at work there was nothing suspicious, with Shouto always working in his office but carving some time to see her.

But now, his most recent credit card bill in her hand, she wasn’t sure.

It started with a phone call. Saturdays were her days to relax, to make plans with friends or to do some self care. She had been finishing up her makeup for lunch with Ochaco, applying some mascara to her lashes. The sound of her phone ringing had her putting the mascara down, expecting to see Ochaco’s name but instead seeing an unfamiliar number. Curious, she answered with an inquisitive hello?

“Mrs. Todoroki? This is American Express, apologies for interrupting your Saturday.”

“No worries. Did my last payment not go through?”

“No, you have nothing to worry about. I’m calling on behalf of your husband.”

Husband?

“Did . . . his payment not go through?”

“No mam,” the operator hesitated before resuming. “There are some . . . suspicious charges on his account.”

“How so?” Momo frowned.

“I understand that he is a CEO, so business expenses are usually put on his business account. However, he has been using his personal credit card at various hotels the past few weekends.”

“Perhaps he got the cards mixed up?” Momo asked, her heart beating faster.

“Mmm it’s a possibility, but usually whoever handles his business expenses would be responsible. My assumption is his secretary.”

Momo knew next to nothing about you, his secretary. You were nothing but polite to her, always ready to assist her or inform her where Shouto was. She never suspected any inappropriate conduct towards her husband, and vice versa. Biting her lip, she assured the operator she would speak to her husband to figure everything out.

***

“What?”

Momo and Ochaco were having lunch above the streets of Tokyo, the faint sounds of traffic wafting in the cool air. The waiter had just taken their order, leaving them alone with their glasses of wine. Momo had been quick to tell Ochaco everything about the phone call from the credit card company, desperate to hear her side on it.

“I figured I would approach his secretary before him, you know? Maybe catch him in a lie.”

Ochacho hesitated, grabbing her glass to take a long sip.

“What? Do you know something?”

“Um . . .”

She glanced nervously around her before staring at her friend with a worried expression.

“Deku’s been acting . . . weird the past few weeks. I knew something was off and asked him, but he brushed it off.”

“Are you in the same situation?” Momo gasped.

“I . . . don’t know. But he’s been sneaking around. Whenever he’s on the phone with someone he hangs up when I walk in.”

“Oh Ochaco, no,” Momo sighed, reaching across to grab her hand.

“I haven’t thought too much of it. He’s been nervous since his charity gala, so I figured it was just work related.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“No, I’ve been too nervous. But . . .”

She pointed a finger at Momo.

“If you talk to Shouto’s secretary, well, then . . . I’ll confront Deku!”

***

Momo marched into her husband’s office Monday morning, determined to confront you about the suspicious charges. As usual, you were sitting behind your desk, eyes focused on the screen as you ripped furiously away. When she approached you looked up, giving her a polite smile.

“Good morning, Mrs. Todoroki. Can I help you with anything?”

“Yes, I hope you can. Er, is there a . . . conference room open?”

Confusion flitted across your face. You glanced absently towards Shouto’s office door.

“Don’t worry about him.”

You gave a slow nod, standing up and asking to follow you. The two of you settled into the furthest conference room, closing the door and gesturing for her to sit down. Momo sat across from you, placing her purse down before nervously intertwining her fingers together.

“This is a bit . . . awkward for me to address, but I figured you might know.”

“Is . . . something the matter?”

Momo paused, trying to gather herself before she spoke again.

“Have you noticed any changes with my husband?”

Confusion flickered across your face again.

“What do you mean?”

She reached into her purse, fumbling through it before retrieving a paper. Sliding it across the table, you gently reached for it. Your heart stopped in your chest as you saw it was Shouto’s credit card bill, with the hotels the two of you had been staying at highlighted. You made sure to keep a straight face as you examined it with a straight face.

“His credit card bill?”

“I know you handle his travel expenses, so I’m wondering if there was some sort of mixup with his cards.”

You pretended to study the bill again.

“Do you have access to his personal credit card?”

“I do.”

What were you going to say? It was obvious that Momo had no idea that you were the  side piece, so for now you were relieved. But she was suspicious, and you had to nip it in the bud.

“There’s a possibility that the cards might have been mixed up. I know that he has his personal card saved for his, well, personal travel, so I might have not checked when I made these reservations.”

You tried to appear as embarrassed as possible.

“I’m sorry. I’m usually very careful, but he’s been traveling so much recently. I’ve been on autopilot making plans, I just assumed the travel card was the primary one.”

Momo seemed relieved. She took the credit card bill back, putting it back in her purse.

“Thank you. I . . .”

She seemed nervous again, and you watched her silently.

“This isn’t my place to say anything, and I really shouldn’t be sharing this with you but . . .”

“Mrs. Todoroki, it’s alright. Although I work for your husband, I also need to make sure you’re taken care of, too.”

You felt grimy saying that, especially because you were fucking her husband.

“I panicked because Shouto has been working a lot and has been traveling so much . . . The credit card bill had me assuming the worst.”

So she was suspicious.

“I’ll have a talk with him too. I just want peace of mind, you know?”

Standing up, she gave you a warm smile.

“He is my husband, after all.”

The two of you left the conference room and returned to your desk. Shouto was standing in front of it, head swiveling around as he searched for you. Upon seeing the two of you together, the color from his face drained but he quickly put on a blank expression again.

“Oh, there you are. I have to move around a few meetings, and I need to see where I have space.”

“Sorry sir, let me open your calendar.”

Momo greeted him with a kiss, and you tried not to frown.

“I need to talk to you, honey. Do you have a moment?”

“Go wait in my office. Let me schedule these meetings really quickly.”

Smiling, she gave him another kiss and slipped into his office. He turned to give you a slightly panicked look.

“What was that about?”

“She’s suspicious, Sho. You charged the hotels we went to on your personal card and the credit card company called her.”

“Was she onto you?”

Your eyes flickered over to his office door.

“No, not at all. I told her it was my mistake and I probably charged the wrong card.”

He gave a slow nod.

“Okay, I’ll go with that. Let’s schedule those meetings then.”

#boku no hero academia #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #todoroki shouto #todoroki shouto imagine #todoroki shoto #shouto todoroki #shoto todoroki #modern au #boss secretary

[tinyhawks]

which led me to think of this dabihawks au where hawks is a back up dancer/choreographer in the industry, dabi is a music producer and shouto is getting ready to debut as an idol, so hawks and dabi have to work together for shouto, and it’s got lots of sexual tension. shouto is a nepo baby, endwhore was a popular guy like 20 years before and now he’s got his own agency and wants his son to be the next big thing. touya was supposed to be just that, but endwhore thought touya could never be enough, so he got replaced with shouto, and now touya has a lot of resentment as he works on production bc he does love his brother and he does love making music, but he also did love performing before that was taken away from him, and then you have hawks who is some insane dancer who got scouted out of the streets to work with some of the biggest names in the industry, but being basically bought to work with idols and angry ceos like endeavor has been killing a bit of his passion. nowadays though he just wants to dance and flirt with the pretty producer on shouto’s team that has ignited back his passion for dance with those beats that bring hawks’ choreos to amazing new heights, but gets wrapped up on keeping up with the todorokis anyways lmao. hawks is a break dancer btw but he does all sorts of open style dance tho he dances like he’s flying, he’s so light on his feet. the man is self taught for the most part, before the commission brought him in. touya was a good dancer too but he had this accident while training when he was younger that has inhibited a lot of his movements so endwhore thought that completely killed his chances of becoming worth anything in the industry, but hawks talks him into dancing with him and it’s great, they have 10/10 chemistry that eventually goes beyond just music, but that also brings problems bc endwhore thinks it’s unprofessional for dabi to be ‘mingling’ with ‘mere back up dancers’ (endwhore would totally be the type to think dancers aren’t important lmao he sucks), that it would bring a bad name to their agency or somethin. shouto’s debut is a big hit, so dabihawks find themselves working together every few months, just eyefucking their way through the production process of making hit after hit together, and endwhore keeps pressuring them and shouto, barely giving them any breaks, until they both be like fuck this guy and leave, help shouto out that slave contract endeavor has him in, and they all live happily every after. the end.

#thanks for coming to my ted talk lmao salkdjal #i am just babbling at this point #yall are welcomed to see me talk nonsense ig