female reader Oneshots And Headcanons

a lil' chub in the tub

tw: mentions of internalized fatphobia, body image insecurities, food picking
     
     ft. bakugou, shinsou, todoroki, monoma, inasa, shishikura, shindou

bakugou
Bakugou doesn’t consider himself the most touchy-feely person, but he also doesn’t think he’s being demanding. Which is why when you keep skirting away from his touch, he grows irritated, especially when every other aspect of your relationship seems to be going fine. He doesn’t beat around the bush either, so the third time you brush off his hand around your shoulder, he asks, a bit gruffly, “You got a problem with me all of a sudden?”“What?”He’s not hurt, damnit, or even if he is, he would never admit it. But he feels the sting of rejection all too easily, and his words come out harsher than he intends them to.“Don’t want me to touch you anymore?”“It’s... it’s not you, it’s just—”He waits for you to finish, his furrowed brow betraying his turbulence. The last thing he wants to hear is that it’s somehow his fault, that you’re sick of putting up with his attitude—thoughts that have grown in strength the more you shun his advances. There’s dampness forming between his fingers as he clenches his fists tight.“I don’t like my body,” you say, quietly. “And I guess I’m worried you don’t like it, either.” Whatever he was expecting you to say, it was certainly not that. He’s taken aback for a moment, before he scoffs, grabbing for your wrist before you can run away, again. Not this time. “The hell—if I didn’t like your body, do you think I’d be trying to get at it all the time?”“No...” You still stubbornly hold onto your insecurity; he can see it in your gaze. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll always like it. Maybe one day you’ll grow tired of looking at me, and—”He yanks your wrist forward, and you squeak as your face is buried in his chest. He wraps his arms around you, tight despite your protests. “You’re really pretty, okay,” he says with conviction, glad that you can’t see the way his cheeks are tinged pink. “I’m not blind. I know what I see, and I like it. And whoever tells you otherwise is getting their ass kicked.”Maybe it’s not so bad to say sappy things sometimes, if that means he can get you to smile as brightly as the look you send him. Only occasionally, though. He can’t be getting too soft for you. 

shinsou
He hums, typing up a report for his agency while you fidget in his lap. When you asked Shinsou if you could spend more time together, this... isn’t really what you had in mind. You pictured maybe watching a movie together on the couch, maybe talking about your days over a cup of coffee (or several, in his case). You didn’t expect him to literally drag you onto his lap, muttering that he just had to finish one more thing, but that he also did miss you, as well. This, in his mind, is a compromise. “Something wrong, kitten?”“Ah...” You squirm, frowning at the doubts that plague your thoughts. “You sure I’m not too... heavy for this?”“Not at all.”As he continues his work, you glance downwards, noting with dissatisfaction the way your thighs look much larger than his—and while his are thick with muscle, yours are most definitely not. You suck your stomach in with a deep inhale, shifting your weight backwards. Maybe if you try to keep the brunt of your weight off of him, it would be easier on him. And maybe you would feel much less aware of every pound on your frame—But he notices your fidgeting, and just draws you closer to him with one arm, pressing up against you. But he notices your fidgeting, and just draws you closer to him with one arm, pressing up against you. “N-No...” You glance to the side. “I just... don’t want to crush you. Or cut off your circulation—”“You won’t. And even if that were possible.... well—” He jolts his thighs upwards, and you yelp as the movement jostles you off-balance. You’re clinging to his shoulders as his laughter resounds. “As long as it’s you, I think I’d enjoy it,” he murmurs, voice rich with promise.

todoroki
He brings it up in passing, in the form of a question of what happened to the sweater he bought you. It’s in response to your complaints of the chill in your apartment, but even so, the way you freeze has nothing to do with the cold. “I just... didn’t like how it fit, is all,” you say, hoping he’ll drop the subject. He eyes you. “I can buy you a new one.”“It’s okay.” “I thought you really wanted it,” he presses.You feel shame rise up in you at your answer. “They didn’t have a size larger, so....”“Ah.” His silence seems to make it worse. While you know Todoroki loves you, he’s also somewhat oblivious to the rigid beauty standards you feel pressured to fit into, and that you clearly don’t. He never cared for such things, on his end, but still... You burrow yourself deeper into the blanket, hoping that the last few seconds of conversation disappear.It’s a few moments before he speaks up again, thoughtfully.“If you want, we can try looking for ones that do fit.”“What’s the point?” you ask, ruefully. “Sorry, it’s not you. I just... hate how everything looks on me lately...”While Todoroki may not understand your discomfort in your body, he can definitely understand hating something about one’s appearance. And the idea that being in your skin stirs up similar feelings to those he has towards his scar is something he would never wish upon you, much less anyone else. “I like how you feel. You’re soft,” he says, squeezing your hand gently. When that doesn’t seem to do much to help, he draws you closer to him, stiffly resting his head on your shoulder. You can sense the awkwardness to his movements. But the fact that he cares enough to try, despite his inexperience with comfort, has you resting your head on top of his, squeezing his hand back.The near-imperceptible sigh of relief he makes is all you need to know.
      
                         Monama