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#bnha x you
deartouya · 11 hours ago
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featuring. dabi, bakugou katsuki, aizawa shota, keigo takami + todoroki shoto.
warnings: none.
note: if you can’t tell i’m very touch starved, but i’m pretty sure i make it very obvious lmaooo </3
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✞ DABI he’d gotten back home pretty late after a mission and you hear him sigh before he enters the bedroom, eyes noticeably heavy with exhaustion but they look a little brighter when they meet yours as you lay in bed, the side of his lips upturning softly. he freezes when you shoot him a soft smile, opening up the blanket that was previously wrapped around you before motioning for him to climb in when he raises a brow in response— following it up quickly with a raspy laugh before he shrugs off his coat, allowing himself to climb in next to you, almost lifting you onto his chest. “miss me, doll?” dabi drawls, a lazy smirk on his lips as he narrows his eyes at you teasingly, a more lighthearted chuckle leaving his lips when you roll your eyes at him in response, but you relax when you feel his fingers begin to trace their way up your sides soothingly. feeling him place an almost uncharacteristically gentle peck against your temple when you feel yourself dozing off against the warmth of his chest, his next words a reassuring whisper against your skin “good. i’m not going anywhere, those bastards can’t kill me that easily.”
✞ BAKUGOU you could tell he’d had a bad day when you heard the door close, the sound of his bag hitting the floor before he trudged into the room where you were cuddled up on the couch with a blanket. his brows are furrowed, eyes flickering to you momentarily and the sight alone has his features softening slightly “katsuki?” you call for him, but he only offers a low grunt in response as he scratches at his head tiredly, mumbling something about “fucking nerds, can’t do shit right—“ but his rant is cut off when he notices you open up the blanket for him, looking at him softly. bakugou tsks as his lips form a small pout before he approaches you on the couch, climbing in beside you and pulling you into his arms immediately— burying his face into the crook of your neck with a sigh. he immediately relaxes when you move to run your fingers through his hair, a weakness that only you knew as you feel him grumble out something like “dumbass” against your skin, but when he follows it with a soft kiss you know he means to tell you he loves you, and you allow yourself to melt into his embrace when you hear his breathing soften as he dozes off.
✞ AIZAWA he’d been busy grading papers all day at the tablet while you sat on the couch across the room wrapped in a blanket, watching the way he tiredly rubbed at his eyes, his hair pulled back into a messy ponytail before he gets up to make another cup of coffee. but you decide to cut his journey short when you call him instead, before making a show out of opening the blanket, patting the space next to you. you watch him blink lazily at you as he processes how inviting being cuddled up with you looked right now— maybe he deserved a break. “i suppose i am tired.” he hums, padding over to you with a soft smile on his face before he all but falls in beside you— his eyes closing briefly as he sighs, looking at you after with another gentle grin when you cuddle into his side. “you did this, you have to get me up after. i mean it.” shota groans, pulling you closer to him when you only offer a giggle in return to his words, the sound alone immediately helping him to finally relax.
✞ HAWKS “babe? i’m baaack” hawks calls as he returns home, expecting you to be waiting for him at the door but he raises a brow when you’re not there, immediately making his way deeper into the house until he finds you curled up in bed with a grin. “what? no welcome home kiss? you’re killing me, baby.” keigo asks, feigning hurt as he clutches his chest but the handsome smirk on his lips only highlights his teasing tone before he chuckles airily. his eyes widen when you don’t reply, only opening up the blanket with a laugh of your own— and you watch him soften immediately. “that’s more like it.” he breathes, wiggling a brow before crawling into bed with you— but instead of laying next to you he chooses to lean over you instead, propping himself up with his forearms “come on, babe. you still owe me a welcome home kiss.” you’d have rolled your eyes if he didn’t look so handsome when his features were laced with sleep— his golden eyes narrowing before focusing on your lips, eventually leaning down to meet them with his own “there we go, birdie. was that so hard?” “you’re so annoying.” “heh, yeah—but you love me, right?” he giggles, yes you do.
✞ TODOROKI “i’m home, fuyumi gave me leftovers.” todoroki calls softly, as he makes his way into the living room to see you watching a movie, the sight alone causing a small smile to creep onto his face. “did you have a good time?” you ask, sitting up slowly as shoto approaches you, sitting on the other side of the couch before resting his hand on your calf over the blankets next to him as he nods “i wish you could’ve came.” the smooth tone of his voice has you melting before you open up the blanket to try and guide him in, giving him a knowing smile— only to be met with a little blank look in return as he stands again “are you hot? i can open the window.” he’s trying his best okay. you giggle a little as he gazes at you, waiting for your response and still a little confused while you shake the blanket “no, sho! get in.” you say giddily, watching him rub the back of his neck before gently sliding in next to you, being careful to make sure he doesn’t crush you in the process “you could’ve just asked normally.” “yeah i know but you’re too cute.” and your sudden compliment has him pulling you a little closer, a blush dusting his features. 
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backoftheletter · 14 hours ago
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"hey psst"
"katsu baby wake up"
poke poke poke
"what do you want? its" you watch him squint to read the clock in the nightstand "fucking 1:45 am"
"i missed you" he knows it doesn't really make sense for you to miss him right now when he's right next to you, but god does his heart triple in size after hearing you say that
"what...? what do you mean you missed me?" he murmurs softly while rubbing his eyes to look at you "I've been right here all night"
"...yeah" you pout and scoot closer to him "i know that"
"you know?" he says while pulling you so you're flush against his chest "so what do you mean baby?"
"well you weren't with me in my dream and I really missed you in there" and fuck, he thinks you might just be trying to kill him because that was just the sweetest thing he's heard come out of anyone's mouth
"so you woke me up?" he sighs and starts running his fingers through your hair "I wasn't in your dream and you missed me there so you woke me up?" he smiles softly and almost teasingly, feeling almost ridiculous for completely understanding something like what you just said, and even more ridiculous for feeling giddy that you miss him even in your dreams
"well don't say it like that" your pouting intensifies "I just needed to hear your voice and hug you like this, but you can go back to sleep now if you want to"
"now why would I do that when my baby misses me huh?" he kisses the pout off of your face immediately after saying that, because he can't stand to see that sad look on your face, even if he knows you're not really all that sad
and the kiss it's not just a peck, it never is, his kiss is deep and full of love
"mmm I thought you'd be too tired to stay awake" you say slightly out of breath and blushing after that kiss, and god he thinks, he really loves to be the only one who can make that blush appear on your face
"I'm never too tired when you need me baby" he barely whispers into your ear after flipping the both of you over so his entire weight is resting on you
You feel him nuzzle into your neck and hum, it tickles and makes you giggle softly
Is your giggle supposed to make him feel like that? he thinks, is it supposed to make his heart beat faster than it's ever beaten and his stomach erupt into butterflies? him? the powerful dynamight! reduced to a giddy mess just because of your giggle? but of course he is, because it's you and he can never be the powerful, all mighty, emotionless dynamight when he's with you
Because in your shared house, in your shared bed, he's just your suki, and he allows himself to experience everything because you make him feel like there's thundering fireworks inside of him. Like he's capable of everything and yet he doesn't need to do anything, he just needs to be there and let himself feel everything you make him feel and he can only hope that he can make you even half as happy as you make him just by existing
"and just what are you laughing about?" he pulls his head up and stares at you with a raised eyebrow and a teasing smile
"it tickles" you say with the ghost of a smile still in your face
"huh? what does?" he says while nuzzling his face into your neck again and blowing raspberries on it "is it this maybe? does this tickle?"
he hears you laughing again but louder this time and he can't believe that there was a time when he could've ever thought he wouldn't be happy, if he could look at his teenager self and tell him what his life would be like in the future he's sure he would have punched himself because he never once thought he would be as happy as you make him, he never thought it was even possible until he met you
"STOP HAHAHA PLEASE! MERCY" you half scream half laugh while trying to squirm away from him "PLEA-SE HAHAH SUKI MERCY PLEASE"
honestly? he doesn't want to stop, he doesn't want you to stop laughing, he wants to stop this moment and record it and watch it over and over until the day he dies
but then again, you probably need to breathe, and he really wants to kiss you right now so he'll stop, for now, for you
"alright alright, I'll be merciful" he pulls his head up from your neck once again and stays so close to your face that your noses brush against each other "but it'll cost ya"
"oh my!" you say biting back a grin "and what would this cost me? a gold coin or two perhaps?"
"oh no, nothing like that" he says, soft as ever, because there's never a time when he's not soft around you "it'll cost ya a thousand kisses"
"oh god! a thousand?" you exclaim, also as soft as ever, because you think breaking the bubble so carefully built around you both right now might just be a crime "and how could I ever pay you so many kisses?"
"well, you can start with this one"
and he leans in
and he kisses you
and you both thank whatever god (if there is one) that it's out there, and the universe, and the stars, and the moon, and the sun, and everything that had to happen so you two met each other because it's the best thing that could have happened to either of you
and so you stay there
kissing each other
at what it's now 2:03am
and you're grateful
and you're happy
and you're in love.
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th0tfairy · 13 hours ago
Hello🐛 can I have some headcanons of some of the MHA/BNHA boys with a fem!S/O that has teeth like Kirishima?
you can do whatever with this I just wanna see because I like the way you write :D. It could be her giving head and [character name] being scared she'll use a little teeth or maybe she bites when she cums 🤷🏿‍♀️👀
other details- established relationship, you pick the characters, non-hero!AU
only if you're comfortable and if requests are open :)
remember to drink water and eat daily, darling <3
Aw that’s kinda cute
Deku : def likes pain so I think he’s encourage u to bite him and esp loves it when you’re sucking on his thumb and give it a bite
Shouto: he likes how u tease him but never actually bite too hard. Doesn’t let u near his dick tho
Bakugou: loves it when u get rough like that. Fists his hand thru ur hair while u suck him off until u bite him so he can pull u off
Kirishima: I think he’s just happy to find someone like him and tetsutetsu that he just rubs his finger thru the spiky crowns of ur teeth in awe
Kaminari: likes a lil bite while ur kissing but he’s prone to bleeding so u don’t bite too hard
Sero: he has very blunt teeth so he’s fascinated by yours and kinda scared of them so he just slightly let’s u glide your teeth around him
Shinsou: thinks it’s cute when u nip him while ur going down on him.
Hawks: only lets u bite him if he can bite u back
Dabi: makes u leave bite marks all over him and shows his hickeys off on his OF
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afk-dreaminq · 2 days ago
Hiii! This is a request for your Bakugou mafia event.
Can I request something where his civilian s/o who is unaware of his involvement in the mafia gets taken by some rivals and him going crazy trying to find her?
Thank you for your time byeee
(I’m not really shore how to make an ask and I’m very new to this so sorry if I did it wrong somehow)
★ 𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿 !! 𝗦𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 !!
- Katsuki never meant for you to get taken by them. But then again, he knew it was going to happen, from, the moment he started dating you. They knew you are his weakness.
- And this is how it ends, him going crazy and spending every spare minute looking for you, in the most obvious places, to the most random.
- What the hell was he doing with his life ?? He was supposed to be hiding from the police, being a wanted criminal- and gere he was looking for you like a mad person in broad daylight.
- While he was searching for you like ↩↔️↪🔄🔃 you were having the time of your life, in a huge mansion, living in the best conditions, ruling every servant that worked there. You had killed the enemy on the first day you had been kidnapped, all thanks to an umbrella. So It didn't really matter whether Bakugou found you or not you were living the most luxurious life !!
- But then Katsuki was still searching for you, so you decided to shoot him a text, tell him your location and all that- but when he finally responded, he was mad...
" Oh- I thought you wouldn't care- "
" So your finally admitting that your stupid ?? About time bro- "
" Istg (y/n) Stay where you are I'm coming to pick you up "
" Hell nah- I'm living in my luxury go away !! "
" I'm coming to pick you up whether you like it or not- "
" Sniff* Meanie !! "
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mag-na · 2 days ago
Recently I've neen feeling insecure of my body (I'm hella skinny/boney and underweight) 👉🏻👈🏻 is it ok if I ask for sum Aizawa fluff with him comforting an insecure reader?
If you feel uncomfy writing for it, you don't have to! (Also idrc what format it's in, whatever you feel is fine for me :>)
Aizawa x gn!reader
Tw: body imagery sadness? (There's a damn word for that, I know there is, help omg.)
Notes: You're beautiful no matter your body type. Strut your shit you beautiful people.
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"Nothing looks right…", you sigh as you throw another shirt in the 'why do I even own this' pile. You had to leave with your boyfriend Aizawa in 15 minutes for dinner at a new restaurant that has recently opened just a few streets away. You have 15 minutes to get ready now due to spending the last 3 hours tearing apart your own wardrobe, not to mention tearing apart yourself. In the end you end up choosing a beautiful knee length skirt and an oversized button up blouse, grimacing when you look in the mirror, but shit, it was better than the other outfits. As you start pulling your hair up you hear the living room door open, your boyfriend walking lazily into the room and glancing around until he finds you in your shared bathroom, staring dejectedly at your reflection. "Wow baby, you look absolutely stunning." He mumbles while looking into your e/c eyes. "But, may I ask why the shirt? It's practically swallowing you, I can't see my baby in all their beauty!" He dramatically declared, smiling at you sluggishly. You blush but avert your eyes to the tiling on your bathroom floor. His large hand cups your chin, lifting your face until your eyes meet his, his face suddenly shows a spasm of shock as he sees the tears filling your eyes. "Whoa, did I say something? What's wrong, love?" He inquires as you try to blink your eyes clear from the tears, unable to stop more of them from filling your eyes. "My body…. I hate it … I just want .. to not look like I do " you say quietly, chewing on your lip, worried about his coming reaction. You knew he'd agreed, how could he ever find you attractive? Soooo stupid, you thought while trying to remove your chin from his grasp. He senses your upcoming attempt at retreating and he gently tightens his grip on your face. "You don't want to look like you do? You don't like looking like the person I want to spend the rest of my life with? The one I enjoy coming home to? The most beautiful person to ever enter my life? My sweet baby, in my eyes you are perfect, beautiful, breathtaking. I know that may not mean much but it's true. You're my everything. My little piece of perfection in this messed up world." He leans in, kissing your lips gently, as if you were the most fragile thing on earth. You gaze up at him lovingly and smile sweetly through your drying tears. "Doesn't mean much? That meant everything."
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maehara-san · a day ago
𝙍𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙮 ──
"Thank you." you said to the worker, grabbing your small bag of popcorn. They went back to get your other item when three tall guys cut in front of you.
"We'll have three bags of popcorn and soda." the middle one with blonde hair spoke.
"Make it quick!" the black haired one exclaimed "We don't have time."
The worker tried to tell them that they were cutting in line but was too scared to say anything. Sighing you tapped the blonde one on the shoulder.
He turned around took a good look at you then turned back again. "Seriously?" you said, proceeded to tap him again.
"Didn't you get the hint?" he spoke staring down at you. "You're not my type."
"I don't care if I'm not your type." you responded "You're cutting in line."
The black haired chuckled, "And? What are you going to do about it?" he smirked.
"Move it or lose it." you said, "The rest of us don't care if you're late to seeing your movie. We got here first."
"Um last time I checked no one else is complaining except you." the shorter one replied, "Why don't you be a good girl and keep your mouth shut."
"I get that girls don't want to be near you and probably have daddy issues, I understand. But no one here wants to deal with your asses either maybe take the hint and leave."
"What did you say?" the blonde one stepped closer making you step back. "You may be a girl but I'm not afraid of hurting you."
"Wow such a gentlemen." you sarcastically replied, "I'm not afraid of you either asshole."
"That's it." you were ready to use your quirk, when a guy from behind you caught his fist.
"I suggest you do as the lady said."
The blonde guys became pissed, "This doesn't involve you."
"No you're right it doesn't." the mysterious guy said, "But I don't like your type. Why don't you leave her alone and scram like she said, or I can show you out myself." he suggested.
"We're not afraid of you." the short one added "It's three verses one do you really think you'll win against us?"
"You wanna give it a try?" his grip tightened then lowered his hoodie slightly. He smiled wickedly, tilting his head to the side. The guys eyes widened along with yours. "What's the problem? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled.
You swallowed not being able to move an inch. He was right there next to you.
The blonde one was too scared to say anything knowing who was hiding under the black hoodie, he ran past you and the other two followed him. The worker breathed out, sighing of relief.
"Thank you for your help sir!" he went to give you your items but you shook your head.
"It's okay, I-I need to go." you gave him the cash then quickly walked out of the lobby. Your chest felt tight, seeing him so up close was a different feeling. You wondered if he had been following you and you didn't even notice.
"You really decided to leave after what I did?" you jumped back in surprise seeing him standing in front of you.
Your mouth wouldn't move, you wanted to tell him off but couldn't.
He sighed, "Come on if I wanted to hurt you I would have done that by now."
You looked at him, "I didn't ask-..." you took a moment to compose yourself. "Why haven't you? You're part of the league of villains, Dabi."
"I don't mess with people who don't bother me." he replied
Chuckling you shook your head. "I don't believe you. The league of villains have attacked innocent people, even Class 1-A. Don't use that excuse when you've done horrible things."
"My beef isn't with those wannabe heroes." he stated. "I don't attack women, have you ever seen on the news of me attacking them?"
It was true... to some extent. All he ever does is attack the heroes. Yet those heroes include women too, you weren't sure what to believe.
"Doesn't mean you don't have some kind of plan. I'm part of class 1-A why should I trust anything you're saying?" you questioned.
"I don't save people to attack them later." Dabi answered "That's the truth to your question."
"Fine..." you muttered.
"For the record if I hadn't stepped in you would have been in trouble."
"What are you talking about?..."
He smiled, "You don't have your license yet using your quirk without permission could get you in trouble with the law."
You clenched your jaw, "How do you know I haven't gotten mine?..."
"I know things."
Rolling your eyes, you walked passed him. "Whatever..."
"Where are you going?"
"Home." you answered, groaning seeing he was following you still. "We don't need to see each other any longer."
"Come on I'm not that bad of a company, you know." he picked up the pace trying to match yours.
"Even if you're not... I can't be seen with a villain." You crossed your arms in front of your chest. "We are enemies after all."
He rolled his eyes, "This whole being enemies thing is kinda getting on my nerves. Who says heroes and villains can't be friends."
"Uh every single movie, incident, and book?" you looked at him as if he was crazy. "You may not watch much tv but it's that obvious. Now please leave me alone."
"I don't have anything to do, why not get to know each other more?"
At this point you decided to ignore him, you figured the longer you stayed quiet, he'd get bored and leave. But BOY were you wrong he decided to follow you back to the train station.
"I thought you U.A heroes would have more privilege." Dabi commented, "Who knew you take the train too."
"We may be in U.A but that doesn't mean we don't have our own troubles." you swiped your train card and made your way downstairs.
Dabi decided to jump over the the two machines since he didn't have a train pass. People looked his way yet somehow he did not care. He walked away looking cool and unbothered, something you envied about him.
"Wait up will you?" He ran following your every move. All you wanted to was get away from him. Dabi may act nice right now but it doesn't mean you can be near him after all the times he's hurt your friends. "Hey!" he caught your wrist.
"Stop!-" he pulled you into his chest tightly, while his body shield you away from the strong winds of the train passing by. Dabi looked down at you with a slight worry in his eyes.
Your heart was beating like crazy. His body felt warm, despite the rough stitches on his body, his skin felt extremely soft. As you looked into his eyes, you saw something in them that made you change the way you look at him. Despite acting like a villain, he was like any other person. He carried guilt, sadness, and revenge in those eyes.
You felt the urge to touch his cheek, without thinking about it, you moved your hand up to caress his cheek.
Dabi's eyes widened as he felt your touch. He tensed up for a moment before slowly he relaxed under you. There was something about you that he couldn't keep himself away from. He wanted to know more about you, to talk with you everyday.
The sound of the loud speaker broke you both out of your trance. You dropped your hand to the side and stepped away, already shivering from the cold wind.
He cleared his throat, "You should be more careful."
You avoided eye contact and looked down at the ground. "S-sorry..." You rubbed your forearm up and down, "Thanks for the save... Dabi."
"See I'm not so bad am I?"
"I can't really say much... but I do appreciate the help from earlier as well."
The loud speaker sounded again, "The next train will be arriving soon. It will be the last one until 4pm, please make sure to get closer to the line and wait until all doors are open. Thank you."
"Why don't we go somewhere?" he suggested "We can go grab something to eat so you can see if I'm really bad."
Your eyes switched from the lock on the wall then over to him. You did have things to do however, you'd be lying if you said you weren't curious about him too.
"Okay." you answered, "Only for today, I can give you a pass this once. Tomorrow we go back to hating each other."
He smirked slightly "I can guarantee that you won't be able to get enough of me." he started to talk away, every bone in your body was yelling for you to leave and get a hero to know about his whereabouts. It was ridiculous that a future hero was even talking to the Dabi. If anyone found out you knew it would bring chaos. You'd be expelled.
Dabi stopped walking, turning his head to look back at you. "Are you coming or not?"
"I'm coming." you replied jogging over to him. He smiled to himself then made his way out of the train station with you by his side.
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moon-mars-ikemen · a day ago
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[Feel my excitement for Xmas uwu]
So yeah as you can see Santa this year has been very Kind to me and made me reach a super-milestone.
So to repay him I decided to become one of his elves and bring to you these seasonal matchups!
- Now to the Event -
What happens this time?
You get a special [SFW] matchup in theme with the season!
In detail >
Your suitor | a drabble about your Christmas together | what they give to you as present | Their New Year's wishes for your couple
What do I have to do?
Send to me [your friendly, little, clumsy Elf] your letter!
I need to know these info >
Your MBTI + a little description of yourself
Your pronouns
If you prefer being matched with Male, Female or either > list of fandoms available HERE 🎁
What you like about Christmas and what you'd like to do with your F/O [fictional other]
What you'd give to your F/O [fictional other] as gift
Your New Year's wishes for your couple
Until when can I send my Letter?
You have time from today Mon. 29 Nov. until Sun. 5 Dec.
One week time my Stars!
From Mon. 6 Dec. I'll start posting the results. This may take time so bear with me. But most of all have fun and happy Christmas!
!! > I'll be reblogging this post to make it reach everyone interested in participating. So block the Event tag {if you’re not interested in the event at all} and the 'icymi✨' tag for my self-reblogs > !!
Event tag >
🎄Merry Kmas
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undying-vagabond · a day ago
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prince shoto x fem reader
promptober masterlist
content: shoto being obsessed w/ a gold digging reader, momo is a lesbian, 1 mention of slight dubcon, 1 slut shaming comment
Prince Todoroki Shoto despised you.
Your family were a bunch of rotten apples and as they say, the apple does not fall far from the tree. You were everything he loathed. Corrupt. Treacherous. Violent. Beautiful.
It was funny to you, his furrowed brow and pink pouty lips. You could practically see the cogs turning in that pretty little head of his, wondering how on earth he end up in your bed.
Worse, it was him who came to you, sneaking around like a thief at night, tiptoeing into your chambers. Unsightly, really.
This arrangement between the two of you started when Shoto caught you fooling around with a guard. Despite being of high social status, you were known to have plenty of paramours of ranks beneath you. A well-known seducer. Sometimes it was to elevate your power, other times just for fun.
Still, Shoto could not get that sight out of his head.
You’d mounted the guard, kissing him in a teasing manner. The poor man was red, wriggling for more. Shoto didn’t know why this aroused him. Perhaps it had to do with his own status.
While you were, too, bound by societal rules, you at least had some leeway to enjoy yourself. In contrast, Shoto was restricted to the point where he couldn’t breath. His future was decided and contrary to popular belief, he couldn’t do what he wanted. His father, the current king, prohibited it.
Just once, he wanted to give up power. He wanted the freedom to be with whoever he wanted, without regrets.
Shoto’s betrothed, Princess Momo, wasn’t interested in men.
Their marriage would merely be one of convenience. Though polite, she made it crystal clear that nothing sexual would ever happen between them. Instead, she sought at the company of her ladies-in-waiting.
Shoto was left blue balled. His hand wasn’t enough to satiate this feeling within him.
His desperation led him to corner you. Shocked and confused, you didn’t notice the way Shoto would look at your lips. What would they taste like, he wondered.
Still thinking he hated you, you tried to ignore him, not wanting to waste your time clashing words that would only enter deaf ears. Shoto was like an iron wall as you tried to push past him.
“I…” he trembled before your presence, it was overwhelming. He wanted to kneel at your feet. Instead, his voice hardened and he pulled your hand towards his crotch. “Release me.”
“Excuse me?”
That was bold. Real bold, coming from him who’d sneer whenever you were within his vicinity. Now he wanted you to jerk him off? No way. You wouldn’t stoop so low even if he held a sword to your throat. He may be handsome and a prince but he’d made his distaste for you obvious. And the sentiment was returned.
Though, he refused to let you go. His head was slight bowed in embarrassment. As his icy voice urged you, you pushed him against the wall harshly. His head hit the brick, it hurt a bit more than he’d like to admit.
With your free hand, you grabbed his cheeks, squeezing them. Shoto’s face was painted red. So close. You were so close, he could almost kiss you. “Word of advice, Your Highness, let that be the last time you touch me without permission. Prince or not, I will rip your entire hand off and feed it to my dogs.”
Shocked. And aroused.
His hand slackened, giving you the chance to leave with a huff and a nasty glare in his direction. “Ugh..” the tent in his pants just got worse.
Your father’s palm connected with the side of your face, hard enough to rock you back into the bed you’d just been fucking one of the maids in.
“I’m warning you, (Name). You better stop whoring around and do something useful for once!”
It shouldn’t have gotten to you, but it did.
Those words, you were used to hearing them from others but you never cared. Their opinion meant nothing to you. It hurt because you believed your father would understand; he’d done much worse than adultery after all.
Without meaning to, the tears spilled from your eyes. “Agh! This is stupid..” you tried to wipe them away but they just kept falling.
Now the last person you expected to see was the Prince himself. Ever since that incident, he’d avoided you like the plague though he still undressed you with his eyes.
“Are you alright?”
“Just fine.”
Okay, so you weren’t fine. Shoto seemed to think the same because he carefully approached you. Sitting down a few feet away from you, he listened as you ranted. He said nothing, merely paying attention, nodding occasionally.
It was the first time someone had done that.
You don’t know why you did it, but one thing led to another. You kissed him, starting this whole affair. From then on, Shoto could hardly keep himself away from you. It was kind of pathetic.
He was entirely obsessed with you, but you were only interested in the power he held. One night, when you attempted to get dressed and return to your chambers, he held onto you. “Don’t go.”
You opened your mouth but he beat you to it. “My crown, you want it, correct? Why not have your own?”
Shoto caressed your hand, gently. He placed a kiss, looking at you with those beautiful eyes. You never imagined he would go this far to keep you with him. “Are you…proposing?”
“Yes. Be my Queen.”
21 notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · a month ago
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ৎ୭ synopsis. your best friend’s girlfriend doesn’t like you, but can you really blame her? i mean, you’re perfect ! pretty, smart, likeable and you have her boyfriend wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.
ৎ୭ wc. 12222.
ৎ୭ genre. mdni, 18+, smut, dark content, college!au.
ৎ୭ cw. please read ! heavy smut, characters aged up to twenties, fem!reader, best friend!bakugou, spit!kink, slight!manipulation,  dub-con, cheating, thigh-riding, handjobs, cherry chasing, recording, cumplay,  tummy bulges, possesive sex, unprotected sex. not proof read, beware of errors.
ৎ୭ author’s note. happy friday everyone!! ah!! my final day of kinktober! i’d like to thank everyone who read and were excited for my fics, it’s honestly been really fun taking part in kinktober this year and hopefully i’ll join the next! i guess you could call this the grand finale, until the mikey fic comes along, but for now thank you and please enjoy <3 ( also i finished writing this at 6am today so i apologise if it’s riddled with typos !! )
ৎ୭ now playing. tonight - doja cat ft eve.
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katsuki bakugou’s been your best friend since as long as you can remember.
your mothers had always been close, kept in contact after they graduated and reunited when word spread they’d be having babies around the same time. katsuki, of course, came first— nothing could ever beat him and you always followed, popping out just months later.
just like your parents, you went through everything together. took your first bubble bath side by side, learned to crawl in unison— stood tall and walked in tune with one another. you’d punched out bakugou’s first wobbly tooth in first grade and he’d comforted you after you cried on your first day of school.
you were completely and utterly inseparable.
joined at the hip, you picked each other for every team in middle school and studied together for every honours class test in high school and when crushes came into play, bakugou never once looked away from you. ‘why the fuck would i need other girls when i have you?’ he’d say, lips pulled into a toothy smirk, vermillion eyes bright and mischievous as he’d try to shove whatever spicy hellish concoction he’d made for his bento that day, down your throat.
and gradually, whenever katsuki looked at you, a warm feeling would blossom in your chest— he made you feel like the only girl in the world, like you were his favourite girl.
people always told you how cute you were together, katsuki bakugou and his sweet little girlfriend yn...and you’d believe them. doodled his name in every one of your notebooks, hearts over the ‘i’ and your future children’s names scrawled in loopy font underneath. there was no one more perfect for your best friend than
except bakugou didn’t seem to think that way, not when moves halfway across the country for a college that you guys had never even talked about. your best friend left you behind but you would be fine, there were facetime calls and text messages and 3AM movie nights over discord while you both half awake and stealing glances at one another until one of you drifted off first. your best, your katsuki...he would tell you stories of the guys he’d met at the dorm, the ones he’d tell to back off while they tried to flirt with you over call. he would ask about your day, your classes— tell you that he was so proud of his girl and the praise always shot right to your tummy. the praise would make you touch yourself after your screens went dark and you were alone in your dorm with his name on your lips.
katsuki, katsuki, katsuki.
you’d chant his name like he was yours, like he was the one making you feel good and not the tiny fingers you have stuffed in your little cunt. you think of him when you cum, when you fall asleep, when you wake up in the morning… and maybe you’re a little obsessed...but after all, he’s all you’ve ever known. in your mind, bakugou was yours, he was always yours.
until he wasn’t. until he was hers.
“i’ve met someone,” the blonde mumbles to you on call one night, he’s sheepish and embarrassed— something that katsuki rarely ever expresses so you know he’s being serious. immediately your heart sinks, jealousy and anger curling around your beating heart and blackening it—how dare he? who is she? you and katsuki were made for each other, college wasn’t supposed to change that. and if your best friend sees your face twist into a frown, he doesn’t say anything about it. “she’s sweet, got a feelin’ yer gonna like her.”
you won’t, you already don’t.
you hate whoever the hell she is.
and katsuki sees that written all over your face, in the downturned corners of your glossed lips and the crinkle between your eyebrows. “she’s great,” he tries again, tries to reassure you because he hates seeing you upset and hates being the cause of it even more. “i promise.”
there’s no way she compares to you, she couldn’t be greater than you. “‘m sure she is.”
“yer upset with me, aren’cha?” the blonde asks you, clearly worried as his lips pull into a frown and you remember the sense of pride shooting through your veins at making him feel guilty. bakugou deserved that, especially after choosing some girl over you. “don’t be—“
“‘m not,” you say back, rolling your eyes and putting on a disinterested act just to vy for more of bakugou’s attention— you want his eyes on you and only you, not the bitch who’s swiped him from right underneath your nose. your lips push into a pout as you look away from the screen, shrugging your shoulders into the cool night while your childhood best friend rubs a hand over his face, clearly apologetic for having to break the news to you this way.
“c’mon angel, yn, look at me...don’t be fuckin’ mad, okay? don’t deny it either, already know that’cha are,” bakugou coos, rough as he leans into his shit-quality facetime and presents you with his furrowed brows and darling ruby gen eyes that you love so much. “you’re always gonna be my favourite girl, okay?”
you can’t help the smile that curls on your lips. “mkay,” you say in a quiet babyish voice and relief floods your best friend’s face. “do you promise?”
“pinky fuckin’ promise.”
but as it turns out, bakugou had lied.
his girlfriend wasn’t as great as he’d made out to be— in fact she was worse. her name doesn’t come up in the conversations the two of you have over your weekly calls but you manage to pull the handles of her social media accounts from between the loose lips of katsuki’s roommate— kirishima, with the promise of a few lewd videos and a chance for him to hook up with you. the red head’s chance with you wouldn’t come however, since you intended to save yourself only for the blonde with the firm, iron hot grip on your heart and all feelings for him replaced any guilt you had for manipulating kirishima the way you did.
nonetheless, ochako uraraka is the name he gives you and you decide that she’s nowhere near bakugou’s type. ‘yer gonna love her,’ is what you remember him telling you as you scroll through her instagram accounts— you hate her, is what you think. the girl is try hard, she wants to be cute but she looks annoying— she takes bakugou on dates you know he would hate, makes stupid comments about the stuff he loves that she dislikes, forces him to try foods you know he would turn his nose up at when he was back home with you. you pick at everything you can about her and try to convince your best friend that he’s making a terrible mistake but no matter what you say it’s always; ‘jus give her a chance, y’gotta warm up to her,’ and ‘i really like her, you will too.’
and you can’t, you won’t, you refuse. you refuse to acknowledge ochako as anything close to perfect for katsuki, no matter how hard he tries because you’re the one for him, you’re perfect for him and in your books she simply didn’t make the cut.
it’s not like ochako adored you either, the first time you’d met her guard was up miles high despite the sweet smile she’d given you in the presence of your best friend— and it’s not like you could blame her, in katsuki’s eyes, you appeared flawless… a vision of what a woman by his side should look like and that bothered her.
it bothered her to the point where she would try to sabotage your friendship with her boyfriend whatever chance she got— pretending to like your silly childhood games, kissing him when she was sure you were looking, prematurely ending the nights in which you hung out with bakugou by strategically placing a hand on his thigh and mumbling dirty words into his earn until his cheeks turned pink and he was rushing away with her. she was coming between you and your best friend and you hated it.
you hated her.
so you made sure of it, at your next visit to katsuki you’d win him back and remind him of who his favourite girl really was.
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“s-she hates me suki! she...s-she said i wasn’t good enough to be your friend!”
you hiccup your way through practiced words as bakugou locks the door to his frat house’s mancave— crossing the room in three short strides to be right by your side again. with soft hands, you cling to his toned arms and squeeze them beneath your grip, pressing yourself impossibly closer to your best friend. tears stream down your cheeks— fat droplets of saltine liquid clumped in your pretty lashes while you cling to him, small sniffles echoing through the room and just barely heard over the thumping bass of the music outside.
katsuki’s face, aged like fine wine over the years— ruby stone set eyes softening, falls flat at the sight of you so distraught and upset. it kills him inside to see you cry.
it hurts him more than a punch to the gut.
false waterworks and a wobbling bottom lip were all it took to get katsuki bakugou alone and away from the welcome party he’d thrown in your honour. the stardust sparkles in your watering eyes causing an unexplainable tightness in his chest, enough for him to pull you into the nearest empty room to comfort you. it’s not like you had lied about your reason for tearing up anyways— just moments before your best friend’s girlfriend, ochako, and her equally annoying buddy, mina, had cornered you in the hallway to confront you.
“you should go for hanta, or denki or maybe even eijirou. he really likes you,” the brunette had told you, swirling her solo cup of booze as her gaze swept over you. “so long as you back off of katsuki,”
you’d grinned with faux innocence, pushing yourself off of the wall the two girls had backed you up against to invade her personal space. “you’re sweet ‘chako!” you had squealed, revelling in her offended expression as you latched onto her as if you were best buds. “thanks but no thanks! all eiji knows is ass and good pussy. which you have neither of. my eyes are on suki.”
ochako had glared and grunted, stumbling back to get rid of you. “that wasn’t an offer,” came her snappy response. “you’re too clingy, too childish for him. katsuki wants a real woman.”
thinking of the bitch’s words only makes you angrier, makes you act harder to draw sympathy from katsuki so you can execute your plan of revenge. you were going to show her, show him— that you were just as much of a woman as ochako was and that he’d been making a huge mistake just by being with her. “she said i was too immature, that she’d get rid of me,” you blubber, jutting out your lower lip even more. “you won’t do that, right suki?” your acting could be a gift from god, an oscar winning performance one might say. you could tell by the unhappy twitch of bakugou’s frown— deeper, harder, that you’ve got him in a chokehold of guilt.
“fuck, y’really torn up about this huh, angel?” bakugou sighs, thick brows knitted together. you almost laugh, the sound coming out as a light gasp— like you would let ochako hurt your feelings. she had absolutely nothing on you. you were katsuki’s sun stars and moon, she would see that shortly. he moves towards the door, reaching for the handle. “i’ll go ‘n talk to her.”
“no!” you huff shortly, gripping him tighter and tugging your best friend over to the couch in the corner of the room— the route you’ve planned in your head and the final destination katsuki’s lap. “want you to stay, can you help me feel better, suki?” he looks to you as if he doesn’t know what to think, but how can he say no to you? he never can, not when you’ve been by his side your whole life and put his needs before your own. you throw him down onto the couch in one swift move, slotting yourself into his lap just like you would when you were back home— testing katsuki’s limits before your plan comes into play.
he accepts you at first, nodding his head with a warm hand rubbing on your back. hugs don’t count as cheating right? bakugou thinks. he couldn’t think to keep you at arms length, not when you were so warm— not when you were the sweetest person he’d ever met crying over a fight with his girlfriend. he’s conflicted, he knows he should be out there with ochako but you’re his best friend, you would do the same for him...right?
distracted by his thoughts and his seemingly endless list of problems brewing between his girlfriend and his best friend— katsuki almost doesn’t notice the way you slowly start to grind against his thigh, your chubby cheek pressed against his heartbeat to muffle the small whimpers gathered in your glossed lips and wet tongue. almost.
bakugou, before anything else, is a hormonal college boy— turned on at the slightest feeling or scent of good pussy. you know he won’t be able to resist you and the warmth of your sweet folds as they brush over his rough jeans, the beginning of your arousal sinking through the black denim fabric. you know that he couldn’t say no despite the dig of his rough fingertips into your supple waist— hormones clouding the red rhinestones in his irises when you pull back from his chest to look at him. “h-hey...hey! the fuck are you doin’ brat?” the blonde curses despite the pillow cushion to his words, he’s never harsh with you, he doesn’t want to upset you. your hips shift against katsuki’s thigh just right and your smaller-than-his fingers sink into his right arm in a tight grip as you cry his name. “fuckin’ stop with that!”
bottom lip wobbling, your face crumples and so does katsuki’s. he doesn’t want to see you cry, even if you grinding down against the meat of his muscled thighs is wrong, even if it drives him insane to feel your needy hole clench around against him. “w-what? what’s the matter ka’suki?” your words are let out with a faux whimper, faking your hurt until you make it. anything to get the plan to ruin his stupid little relationship going. “you don’ wanna help me? am i doin’ somethin’ wrong?”
you know just what to say, after all no one knows bakugou better than you— it just makes manipulating him way too easy. “what? no? the fuck are you on ‘bout?” katsuki struggles to get out, large hands attempting to push you off again while his thighs tell a different story, flexing the right one beneath your cunt, holding back a groan when your whole body shudders and your pretty eyes cross. “‘course i wanna help you angel, jus’ not like this. got a girlfriend now—“
“but you promised!” you sigh, putting on a bit more of a show now that you know you have your best friend’s attention. your fingers dance down towards the hem of your skirt, hips never stopping their straddled dance over katsuki’s thigh. “you said you’d help me feel better, ‘m your best friend suki, you want me to feel better right?” your tone is accusing with your facial expression innocent to match— you tug your skirt up, pinching the fabric between two fingers to reveal your naked pussy, rosy and puffy lips spread open against his jeans with a glisten as you leave a wet patch in your wake of grinding.
“fuck, i did...yeah i fuckin’ did,” bakugou sighs hotly and leans back into the couch, his large hands swallowing your thighs as if he wants to keep them spread— hazy eyes trained on the way your clit becomes swollen and bumps his thigh with every rut of your precious hips to get yourself off. “but angel,” he almost whines. “my girlfriend…”
grinning, you take his hands from your thighs and guide them slowly across the expanse of your body. “e‘nough ‘bout ochako,” you say, sliding his palms across your tummy, fingers feather light as they walk up your rib cage, squeeze your thighs again before brushing roughly under the swell of your breasts— calloused pads of his finger tips tweaking your nipple from under your shirt, as you’d forgone a bra too. “she’s not more important to you than me, right katsuki?”
you say his full name this time, the three syllables hanging onto the gloss that coats your lips and only briefly pulling his gaze away from your sticky cunt and catching your best friend’s attention. his thigh twitches at the sight of you, top pushed up over your breast and skirt lifted just so he can get a peek at the fruit in eve’s garden, and like the story goes the snake in his ear is telling bakugou to take a bite out of you and what you gave to offer.
bouncing his thigh against your blossoming cunt, bakugou breathes his next words. “never, fuckin’ never.”
in victory, your arms wrap around bakugou’s neck for support before you begin to lift and drop your hips slowly against his leg as he gives it the momentum it needs to watch your pretty cunt cum. “then help me forget how mean she was to me, kay?” you use a faux timid tone, grinding down in your friends lap with a front row seat to the blonde losing his sanity over how shiny your sweet slit has become just from humping him.
“f-fuck, okay angel, okay...” he rasps nervously, hands finding your hips again to grind you along. “whaddya need?” bakugou’s eyes don’t dare to tear away from your mound, watching it wetly glide across his leg and you swear you see his eyes, vermillion in colour, roll back as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “jesus…” he adds, flexing his leg again and only looking up when you simper his name and your slit drools just that little bit more.
your body is wracked with a set of trembles as heat starts to boil between your thighs, adding to the strings of slick that tie you down to katsuki’s. “need you to touch me,” you speak, your voice just as shaky as the rest of you while you rut against bakugou to your heart’s content. “gonna take off my shirt, okay? t-then my skirt. want you to see how good you make me feel, suki.”
dangerous blood red eyes shimmer with something you’ve never seen in them before— you can tell just by looking into them that katsuki wants you in so many ways, more than just you being his best friend and his sudden desire for you makes the fire in your lower belly burn brighter. the sight of him like this, eye-level with you, you in his lap while his cheeks grow tinted with berry red and flush under the neon simmering of LED lights only serves to make slick pool beneath you— destroying his pants with your arousal, katsuki looks desperate for a taste of you, adam’s apple bobbing as his dazed gaze flicking from your face to your puffy folds, exposed to the room’s chilly air.
he’s pussy whipped already and hasn’t even had the best of you yet.
the blonde practically whimpers as you pull away from him to take of your shirt, a soft curse falling from between his chapped lips as you throw it into the abyss of the room— the fabric seemingly taking his feelings of guilt towards ochako with him, for his hands scarred and calloused settle on the bare fat of your waist to help pull you along, dragging you by your ankle tot the high heavens of pleasure, burning pads of his fingers sinking into your supple flesh. “fuck, have y’always been this fuckin’ soft?” your best friend muses, brows creased and cock swelling beneath his jeans.
you’re sly, like a vixen prowling through the forest and katsuki is the prey that can’t escape the grip your sharp teeth and claws have on him. “yeah suki,” comes your sweet sigh, leaning forward in his grip until your nose bumps his chin, until your lips are a breath’s width apart. “you like touching me, right? i’ve always wanted you to touch me like this,”
“jesus fuck, baby,” katsuki bleats weakly, swallowing thick and you feel his chest vibrate with a shaky breath from your proximity to him. for a moment, he hesitates, the thoughts in his brain trying to decide between right and wrong, between his girlfriend and his best friend before he takes the plunge and slides a hand beneath your skirt to pull at your peachy ass— the other wrestling with the clasp of your bra, making you grin in victory. “yeah...fuck yeah, love touchin’ you like this...f-fuck, i can’t believe ‘m doin this,” he slurs but mirrors your smile as he pulls your bra away and tosses it away to join your lost shirt. “y’fuckin’ pretty baby, know that right?”
of course you, you know that you— you’ve always been his type, why couldn’t he see that?
your nipples pebble once they hit the cold air and instead of giving him a response, you let your fingers tangle in the softness of his blonde hair and pull bakugou down to your chest. “show me, tell me how pretty you think i am,” your voice is soft, breathless as you glide across his thigh, despite the edgy command you give him and bakugou listens like the little pervert he’s become— before you know it, the heat of his sweltering mouth encapsulates your nipple and his pink tongue runs circles over your areola, tasting the light perspiration on your skin as he grunts softly against it. “o-oh! ka’suki!” you cry, fingers tightening their hold on his hair.
slurping noises shoot through the air, forming their tune in harmony with your entticng moans, airy light and ringing through bakugou’s ears. he can’t help but fall for the way you sound— delirious with arousal as he guides you back and forth over his leg, growing so rough that your clit occasionally bumps the curve of his knee, growing bold enough to grind it against you and make you squeal, force you to gush, anything. he just needs a reaction from you to soothe the aching throb to his fat cock. “god, yer tits are just as pretty as the rest of ya, so fucking pretty, so fucking—” the boy’s voice is muffled as you force his mouth onto your unattended breast, breath hitching as his teetth sink into the supple mound from shock or maybe even from revenge as you practically manhandle him and manipulate him to pleasure you at your will.
“shut up, katsuki,” you grunt impatiently but keep your voice innocent, face contorting with bliss as he follows your lead, sucking and biting at your breast while his calloused hand squeezes at the other. “o-oh! just like that— like that! y’gonna make me cum like that ‘suki!” bakugou looks up at you wide-eyed and hungry, seeming perfectly content with his mouth full of your tits and his thigh coated in the essence that bleeds from your pretty pussy as you circle your hips over him needily. he can’t help but wonder what you look like when you’re close to tipping off of the edge, can't help but wonder whether your cherry bitten lips will push into a pout or if they’ll fall open as you moan from deep within your chest— if your nose will scrunch and your eyelids will flutter just as much as your creamy cunt.
bakugou doesn’t have to wait much longer for his lack of patience and brash approach to everything has him swiping his thumb eagerly across your clit— stringing you along the path to your orgasm as a tight knot builds within your lower tummy. your body reacts to his touch, making him hum against your salvia stained breasts while you start to shake, struggling to even make one stroke of your hips over his thighs and fisting more and more locks of his sun-kissed hair between your trembling fingers.
“you like that?” bakugou hums observantly, his mouth letting go of your breast with a pop, tracks of his own drool running down his chin— you nod your head, picking up the pace of your hips just to make yourself cum to the point where you’re practically bouncing on katsuki’s thigh, pretty tits swaying in his face and activating a predatory look in the flecks of his red rouge eyes. “yeah y’fuckin do baby, holy shit...everythin’ ‘bout you is s’fuckin’ perfect, could watch you all day, let you use me all day. jus’ wanna see you cum, angel…” he drawls on and on, drawing roughly cut shapes into your puffy clit, groaning at the sight of your pillowy folds and the strings of slick leaking from between them as they connect you to his thigh messily. “wanna watch y’come apart just like this, c’mon you can do it, fuck angel, fuck…”
and if it weren’t for that bitch, ochako uraraka...maybe his words could come true.
“katsuki! ‘m gonna...gonna— !” but it’s hard to focus on hating her for stealing away your katsuki when he’s making you cum like a bitch in heat all over his thigh. the neon lights reflect in your teary eyes as your best friend pushes you head first into an orgasm, the pressure building up in the pits of your stomach unwinding faster than you can register as a stream of clear liquid gushes from your heated mound. “‘hmygod, ‘suki...don’t stop, please don’t stop!” your eyes cross and thighs lock around bakugou’s hand but he can’t bring himself to pull it away from your cute little cunt as the circles on your swollen nub grow tighter and tighter, pulling more yet tinier sports of your release out of you until you can barely breathe. he watches you eagerly, taking in the sight of your skin shining with sweat under the gentle hum of the LED lighting in the room along with your soft lip caught between your teeth and the tiny, shaky whimpers you let out.
bakugou could just cum from the sight of you alone, the view of you swaying and dizzy from cumming for him, making his cock stir in his pants. you collapse against your best friend’s chest until the world stops spinning, letting the scent of him bring you back down to earth and put the objects in the room back in their place. “holy shit, angel. did y’just fuckin’ squirt f’me?” he asks tenderly, pulling his fingers from between your messy eyes and cursing under his breath when he spreads them apart and watches the slick separate with them.
“mhm, was all for you katsuki,” lazily, you smile and attempt to shimmy off your now ruined skirt— making a b-line for the hem of katsuki’s shirt next, pushing it up to reveal his golden skin and perfectly carved abs. “you can taste me if you like,” your voice acts like silk running through his ears as you let go of his shirt, giggling at the crease of curiosity between bakugou’s brows as you push his fingers towards his mouth and force them inside. he makes a muffled noise of surprise but a fire lights up amongst the almost brown flecks in his ruby gem eyes at the taste of your sweet nectar against his tongue. “am i sweet, suki?” you add huskily.
he nods slowly, looking at you like a child who’s been given candy while cleaning off his fingers quickly, hungrily as if your cum is laced with some kind of additive— he can feel himself growing addicted. “so sweet baby, s’good,” he mumbles, letting you tear through his shirt.
“i want you to have more of me, katsuki, don’t you want more of me?” you coo innocently, hands that could only be dwarfed by bakugou, dancing down his frame on the path towards his zipper before he stops you. wide eyed, you look at him and cock your head in mock confusion, bottom lip jutting out as you prepare for a fake display of tears. “w-what’s wrong?”
“ochako, i—” katsuki tells you as if he’s had a sudden epiphany, realising where he is and what he’s doing and trying to push you off. he’s never been a cheater, he’d always thought he could be loyal but all it took was one bat of your eyelids up at him and he was feasting on the sight of your rosy, saccharine pussy as if it were his last meal... what the fuck was katsuki bakugou doing? he didn’t need to fuck you to make you feel better, he didn’t need to fuck you at all— not with his girlfriend waiting for him outside. his face is stricken with guilt when he looks at you, but not for cheating on ochako, not for hurting her...but for you and your pouty lips and your bambi eyes that reel him back in and remind him that you could never be second place. not to ochako, not to anyone. “should be gettin’ back to her, think we’ve gone too far here.”
hearing her name fall from his lips after the little show you’d put on for katsuki fills you with rage, tingling from the top of your head right down to your toes and you huff like a petulant child, smaller-than-his hand shooting out to grab him by his growing erection before he can leave. “but you should be with me!” you whinge, squeezing katsuki’s bulge from over his pants, fighting the genuine tears in your eyes, unable to believe that his stupid girlfriend has the one up on you. “she’s been so mean to me and you let her, katsuki! you should be here, making it up to me,”
“but angel—”
you shake your head, furiously working your way through bakugou’s jeans and boxers as you sniff away saltine tears. “but no!” a small smirk crossing your lips at the hiss your best friend lets out when your soft palm comes into contact with his half-hard erection. “you’re mine, you’re my best friend and i’m supposed to be your favourite! ‘m not letting her take you away from me.”
a response lays meekly on bakugou’s lips as he spreads his tongue across them, he should try harder to fight you off and snap you out of your senses, tell you that you can’t do this—that he can’t do this but he’s already revelling in the way you start to palm him as you tug him free from his clothes. your hand is cushioned as it runs from the base of his dick to his achy tip, milky white cascading down katsuki’s length and catching on his throbbing veins that stand at attention— and fuck you’re so good at this, using your fingers to swipe at the precum beading from your best friend’s slit, pushing your thumb into it just to see his body come alive with shivers. your eyes stay trained on his face, memorising every twitch and parting of his lips from how good you make him feel whenever you squeeze him or speed up the pace of your hand.
you’re so fucking good, so good that he starts to forget all about her.
soon enough, katsuki’s body melts into yours and he’s tugging you further into his lap by the ass as if it’s second nature— it feels right to have you straddling his thick thighs as he man-spreads them wide , even better to pull you close by the back of your neck and let his strawberry tongue roll over the seams of your cherry lips to taste the gloss there and he grows eager to taste more of you, have all of you— hungrier for your touch more than he ever was for ochako’s. you can feel your sense of desire growing too—the speed of your hand that pumps katsuki getting faster and faster until lewd and wet noises twist within the heavy, lustful air between you both, his cock dribbling endless amounts of his essence and painting your knuckles with shades of his incoming release.
bakugou’s world becomes centred around you, your name heavy on his tongue—viscous and filling his mouth like honey until he’s drowning in a pool of ecstasy and dragging you down with him. “the way ya touch my cock, fuck angel. just like fuckin’ that, you’re doin’ so good you might just make me cum…you want that? want my fuckin’ cum?” the words slip out before his brain can register what he’s saying or who he’s saying it to, letting you take control of his pleasure as your tiny hands squeeze at his heavy balls— the pair of them working his angry shaft, bright red and fiery at the tip. in fact, bakugou doesn’t care that he’s dirty talking you instead of his girlfriend, at least not in the moment— thrusting himself into the slick warmth of your hands and pathetically using them as his own personal fleshlight, leaking onto the couch beneath your clammy bodies he doesn’t fucking care.
because ochako has never been as bold in the bedroom as you have on this very night, ochako has never made him feel this good.
“i want you to cum for me so badly, suki! i’ve always dreamed of what it was like,” you coo sweetly against his lips, pressing your body flush against bakugou’s so he can feel every bounce of your tits against his naked chest from where his erratic thrusts into your gentle grip make you jolt up and down— your nipples brushing against his to make him hiss. “always wondered about how you might taste,” your voice is breathy while you slot your mouth against his, humming as they fit together perfectly, swapping spit messily while katsuki tugs on your waist and your hair to manhandle you into the perfect position, just the way he wants. “how it might feel to be covered in all your cum,”
“shit, yer fuckin’ filthy, ‘chako would never say nasty shit like that,” bakugou let’s out a colourful stream of curses when you pull away, connected by strings of your exchanged spit— cupids’ bows wet from your searing kisses. “makes me wanna ruin ya, makes me wanna fuck you s’bad,” your heart flutters with pride at how willing your best friend is to give into the sin and adultery you’ve offered up for him despite the fact that the handjob you’re giving him is a one way ticket to the gates of heaven— that’s just how good you feel. you relish the yelp of surprise katsuki let’s out when you dribble your shared saliva down into his painfully hard shaft, letting it mix with his constant flow of thick precum. he groans from deep within the pits of his chest, the seed of arousal sprouting and wrapping its vines around his rib cage until filthy praises blossom in your best friend’s mouth, whispers of ‘just like that,’ and ‘fuck angel, so fuckin’ good to me,’ and ‘ain’t never had it like this,’ laid out across your skin from where he’s buried his face into your neck.
if it weren’t for your bodies being so close, you might not have heard his praise over the raunchy, damp sounds of his balls hitting your closed fist— katsuki fucking your hand as if it were your pretty cunt, languidly thrusting into your grip and chasing his own release. his world his hazy, blurry, with you as his only grounding focus, with you being the only thing on his fucking mind. he whimpers needily into your skin and only pulls back for air, the need written across his face in pink ink that’s flushed against his cheeks— the shade almost rivalling his blissful ruby orbs that flutter every time you fondle his balls.
you can’t help but grin, tilting katsuki’s chin up to kiss him again before you circle his blazing, sticky cockhead with your thumb. “i’m so much better than ochako, suki, i’m everythin’ you’ll ever need,” you say cutely and airily, grinning wider especially when katsuki nods his head eagerly, letting you guide him to his high. “isn’t that right, suki?”
his adam’s apple bobs, vermillion eyes watering and fuck he looks even prettier than you imagined— the sight of katsuki with his head thrown back against the couch and his mouth hanging open, saliva weighty on his tongue while sweat beads at his hairline and his hips jump up and up into your heavenly hand. “y’gonna make me cum angel, fuckin’ make me cum, make me cum,” he growls roughly into the hot air, the sweat running down his neck illuminated by the buzz of the LED lights. the sight creates a pleasant fizz in your brain, committed to memory as you tug on his fat cock harder, faster. “please, ‘m gonna cum, gonna cum so hard baby, don’cha want it?”
bakugou barely feels shameless for begging his best friend to cum, dopamine rattling around in his brain, heart thumping against his rib cage as you rub him off, spitting on his cock again and making every so much wetter, making it so much harder for him to hold off his orgasm.
“say it.” you seethe in his direction, never slowing down the speed of your hand. “tell me that i’m better than her and i’ll let you cum, kay?” you’re bold enough to reach down and slap his balls, coaxing your best friend towards his high, while his alluring and dangerously addictive moans shoot out into the air. bakugou’s head shakes along with the rest of his body, eyes screwing shut while his hips chase your teasing fingers that press down on the forked blue vein wrapped around his cock every time his hips pull back and out of the warmth of your hand. you can’t decide if his telling you no, or if he’s trying to fight his body’s instincts to chase it’s high, but you repeat the action, slapping down on his heavy balls again to make his entire frame jolt. “say it.”
katsuki pants, letting go of your hips to run a hand through his sex mussed locks as his eyes snap open to lock into yours. “you’re so much fuckin’ better than her, could never make me cum like this, only you angel, only fucking you. god, fuck—!” he babbles brainlessly, barely holding onto his last threads of sanity.
“cum f’me, katsuki,” you command the blonde gently, with one last squeeze of your messy hand to his pulsating dick as it pistons through your closed fist.
your whispered words are all bakugou needs before his entire body is overcome with a set of trembles and you don’t dare to stop the flick of your wrist around his cock as he tumbles through the rush of his high, struggling to keep up with you as colours run wild behind his crystallised red eyes. curse words and praises alike line his lips, katsuki moaning your name haughty and loud enough that you almost fear that people will hear you both from outside— his head drops to the back of the couch, chest heaving as his hips stumble and give out, releasing thick ropes of white hot cum onto your sex tainted knuckles and hand, only adding further to the sweaty glaze coating both of your bodies. the soft, incomplete whimpers that leave your best friend make you smile wickedly, evilly as he comes down from his mind-blowing high.
oh ochako ururaka, if only you could see your boyfriend now.
if only you could see what a real woman does to him.
“fuck baby, that was…” bakugou lifts his head, golden and scarred skin shining with sweat as he looks to you, only cutting himself off with a low groan to watch you suck the cum from your fingers before you lean over his twitching frame to spit his own release back into his mouth. the blonde swallows diligently, cupping the back of your head with a large hand before you can pull away and kissing you sloppily, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth so the both of you can share his taste, moaning at it in unison. “that was fuckin amazin’, you really are a filthy little minx aren’cha, angel?”
you nod bashfully, sidling further up katsuki’s lap until you’re positioned just over his sensitive cock— feeling the remains of his orgasm against your needy cunt that’s already dripping wet from pleasuring him. “s’all for you katsuki, s’always been for you,” you tell him, looking down at the blonde with hooded eyes while experimentally grinding your soft mound over his softening dick, waiting for a reaction or for him to push you off. “been saving myself for you, for years, wanted you to have all of me my first time, suki.” you add earnestly while his rough fingers draw contrastingly soft shapes into the soft swell of your doughy thigh.
you’re met with the complete opposite of what you expected, instead of shoving you away and telling you ‘enough was enough,’ bakugou suddenly grips the meat of your thighs to keep you hooked over his lap— looking at you with a new and lustful fire burning between the flecks of his eyes. “yer…yer a virgin?” he asks quietly, the both of you sucking in a breath as his sticky, cum-stained length twitches to life beneath your awaiting pussy.
you nod again, head tilting back when katsuki begins to grind up into you slowly. “o-ochako said i wasn’t…w-wasn’t woman enough for…for you,” you swallow thickly, the blonde’s tip bumping your clit as blood starts to rush to it and your pussy blossoms for him like a flower. “wanted you to make me one…”
“fuck,” he rasps, gaze dropping to watch the show beneath your shaking bodies, hardening cock pushing through your puffy folds and milky cockhead rutting against your fluttering hole. katsuki’s finger’s reach between the sweltering heat between you both, using two of his digits to keep his dick in line with honey glazed folds, shining with the reminisce of your last orgasm. using your wetness, bakugou is able to slide through your sex easily, shaking moans tumbling from between his bitten lips every time he hits your clit, desperately gripping his cock every time he shoots up too far and his tip nudges your soft tummy, smearing it with opaque white. “we should wait...we... we should talk ‘bout this,”
you grind back down on him, keeping the blonde nestled between swollen and pink folds, a pout forming on your lips. “don’t wanna,”
“neither do fuckin’ i,” comes bakugou’s gruff response, it’s whispered against your blemished shoulder, tainted with light scars from your childhood days and beauty marks alike as his buff arms wrap around your middle to keep you pinned down to him. both of you are seconds away from the tipping point, well past the boundary of what separates best friends from lovers— either of your minds growing murky and foggy, while your breathing tingles at each other’s lips while you sloppily grind against each other. you can feel his hips jumping beneath yours, dying to push his cock past your soaking entrance in one swift movement, but katsuki attempts to slow his roll, wanting your first time to be special. ochako is no longer a thought in his mind, replacing all visions of her with thoughts of you— wanting to fuck you, to be tucked away into your tight heat. “god, angel, wanna fuck you so bad,”
your eyes sparkle with a certain sense of triumph at bakugou’s words…you’ve won him over, got him bending over backwards from the slightest bump of his tip against your resisting entrance— barely prepared to take him and the thickness of his shaft. “please ‘suki, need you...want you,” you murmur against the blonde’s hairline, relishing in the way he pulls back ever so slightly to tap his weighty girth against your awaiting and fluttering slit.
slowly but surely, bakugou starts to push his cock into you, gritting his teeth as he huffs into the junction between your shoulder and neck— holding back his whimpers and urge to thrust as he slides into your warmth, not wanting to cause you anymore pain. “‘m sorry baby, ‘m sorry, you know don’t like hurtin’ya,” he mumbles apologies into your skin, hating the way you his at his intrusion, quickly filling you up like you’ve never been before. it’s like his own personal hell, being stuffed inside your cute virgin cunt, walls pulsing around him rhythmically and slowly sucking down every inch of katsuki’s swollen and aching cock— you take him so well despite the pain, making it harder to resist the urge to pound into you.
you’re so pretty on top of him, so cute with your pouty lips and teary eyes and bakugou suddenly finds himself wondering why he didn’t do this sooner, why he settled for anything less than you.
“move, please move,” you pull katsuki back by the air, cupping his face soon after to pull his bottom lip down with your thumb— the hot air between your bodies is teaming with lust and years worth of desire finally being unleashed, your cunt readily accepting your best friend’s dick as it oozes against your insides and spreads the flame of desire through your sweet cunt. “you feel so much better t-than all my toys ka’suki, always thought of you when i used them on myself,” you confess dreamily, tight hole growing slippery with your heightening arousal, letting bakugou press on until he’s reached the hilt inside of you. “you can fuck me, i want you.. l-love you—!”
the tail end of your words because hushed and breathless when katsuki jolts up and deeper into your cunt at your words— scratching the itch in your gummy walls that only he can reach. you love him and he loves the way your squishy, precious pussy wraps around him so perfectly, barely letting bakugou pull out enough to start a proper pacing to his hips. “love you baby, y’my best friend...fuckin’ love you angel,” he babbles to you, looking up at you with hormone raging red eyes as you toy with his lips, pulling it back again as you lean close making you chest to chest. “fuck, y’so fuckin’ tight, so fuckin tight…” forehead’s pressed, bakugou’s eyes flutter shut expecting you to kiss him but instead is met with the gift of saliva to let drip onto his tongue from your own mouth. his entire body shudders violently, swallowing your glob of spit quickly before he leans up to slot your lips together— using this moment of distraction to pull back his hips and sharply thrust into you. “‘m gonna fuck you baby, make this pussy my own. carve my name into it, gonna fuckin’ claim you,”
your best friend barely knows what he’s saying, barely knows the person your pussy’s turned him into— any traces of his girlfriend ochako flushed out of his system by hormones like dopamine as his large hands roam your skin and map out your stretch marks and dips and scars, committing them to memory before sinking into the fat of your hips to keep you steady in his lap. “i-i’m yours, you have me just— move!” if only he knew how much ownership he had of your mind and body already, how much he’d staked his claim over you throughout the years— tonight he would see that, and hopefully realise how much of him you owned as well.
tongues twirling against one another, bakugou pulls away, licking up the string of drool that connected you. he grips your ass next, smacking a rough palm over the peachy flesh to make you squeal and take away some of the pain as he sets a tune to his hips while they begin to plough into you. “‘m gonna make you feel so good, make a woman outta you just like you and this sweet lil virgin thing wanted, yeah?” katsuki’s gaze drops to the mess between your thighs as if he’s gesturing to your cunt, pumping his cock into your creamy, puffy mound nice and deep— making you cry out for him and clamp down hard. “promised to wreck this sweet hole, make my angel forget all the mean things ‘chako said about you… have i ever— fuck, have ii ever broken a promise?”
bakugou struggles to leave the warmth of your pussy, not caring whether that's down to how addicting your tightness is or you keeping him selfishly locked against your soaked and ribbed walls. however, you manage to shake your head no, despite the way you writhe in his lap as he rocks his hips into yours, bulbous cock head battering up your squishy insides. “n-never, my ka’suki’s so good t’me!” you moan possessively, selfishly but it sounds like nothing but angel’s calls to your best friend, only driving him to rut into you harder, deeper.
“that’s fuckin’ right angel, never gonna let’cha down,” he growls, shoving his face into your neck yet again as if he doesn’t trust himself not to cum if he looks at your awe striken face any longer— large and gritty palms pulling you by your ass back and forth on his throbbing, leaky and fat dick to match the pace of him pounding your pathetically juicy slit, writing his name in milky white precum against every ridge inside of you. no matter how far katsuki’s cock pulls out of you, your hips always chase him, forcing them down with your body weight to keep him tucked inside of you— following your pleasure until your cunt is pushing against him, dripping down his balls that spurt equally as much precum inside of you. “don’cha cry angel, thought this was what’cha wanted, what was gonna make you feel better?” he coos, licking a stripe along your collarbones to taste you and to keep himself grounded.
you wrap your arms around bakugou’s neck, hugging him to your chest while he grunts against it needily and it’s not long before your bodies are bodies become coated coated in a sheen of sweat, drops of it pearling against his hairline and extenuating the sticky clap of you skin against each other— creating a harmonious tone that lingers in the air along with your moans and the scent of sex. “it is what i want, you’re what i want!” you squeal as your best friend bares down on pleasure spots your toys could only dream of reaching, only serving to add squelching sounds to the lewd soundtrack you both have going. “but i wanna be your favourite, wanna be yours,” you beg him wetly, delirious and dumb on his cock, filled with devoir and a sense of need for him and only him.
“‘course yer my fuckin’ favourite, look at how much y’love me, how much this pussy loves me— shit angel,” bakugou curses, his tone deep and rumbling throughout his chest. his words make you dizzy, the sight of him makes you dizzy. as he looks up at you, dazed and with rose tinted cheeks you take your view of him— the shine sweat adds to him, highlighting the sharpness to bakugpu’s jaw and the new maturity of his face, the flex of his arms as he lifts you up and down in his lap along with the way his washboard and honey glazed abs contract with exertion every time he thrusts into you. katsuki is like a taste of heaven and it almost makes you mad to know that before you, ochako was the only person who got to see him like this— but your burning rage and murderous impulse is quickly replaced by the ecstasy bakugou makes you feel by bruising up your insides, balls heavily slapping against your ass.
you grin to yourself inwardly, knowing that after tonight ochako will never get to see the beauty of katsuki bakugou like this, ever again.
bakugou may be the one fucking you, but you’re the one who’s in control of his heart tonight— you’ve sunk your claws into him, captured him as your prey and held him hostage. not that he minds, not that he cares, his only wish being that you’d done it sooner...fucking you like this, balls deep in your virgin pussy withh you tight and snug around him drives bakugou insane and makes him realise that you’re the only one he wants. not her, not his own fucking girlfriend.
it’s always been you.
no other girl could get him drunk on cunt like this, vermillion eyes honing in on the way you gently start to lift your hips up and down, following the current of his thrusts as he pounds away at that tight little hole you’ve saved all for fucking him. no other girl could get katsuki to whimper and whine so loud before, you’re special, you’re something else. you’re his best friend. “god, this is the kinda pussy you only get to fuck in dreams, baby,” bakugou slurs with a perverted grin, changing the stroke of his hips to follow the pattern of circles instead of just driving his hips upward. “you my dream girl, angel? y’got the cute lil pussy i’ve only ever dreamed of pourin’ my cum into, yeah? always wanted t’fuck you, thought about it forever, now here i fuckin’ am…”
“did you think of me more than her?”
yes. katsuki would have been a fool not to notice the way you’d grown up s prettily over the years, body filling out into beautiful curves carved with dips and moles and freckles and scars all created by athena herself, the swell of your chest, fruit stained shade of your lips were things that didn’t go unnoticed by your best friend either. so yes, of course he’d thought about you in the depths of the night—his dirty hollywood dreams starring only the girl of his dreams, only its you instead of his girlfriend ochako, you and your name that tumbles from his lips only to be swallowed by the fabric of his sheets. its you who bakugou pictures beneath him when he folds his pillow into the shape of pussy, fucking it like he means his life depends on it.
really, it’s always been you.
the blonde nuzzles at your shoulder with his sweaty forehead, shaking it against your equally sweaty skin. “mnhh, baby...yn,”
“answer me katsuki...a-answer me, please…” lazily, you run a hand through his mussed locks, making it worse
katsuki gasps softly, binding his lowly lip and screwing his eyes shut as he immerses himself in the passionate dance of your bodies; the slow and alluring bump and grind of his dick and your sweet pussy, tip jamming repeatedly and atrociously into your cervix— bullying your insides until you animalistically howl his name like a wolf calling to the moon. “more than her,” bakugou keens into your hands that claw down his bare back, scratching red tracks in the shape of your nails against his scarred skin and he lets his head drop to your neck, sinking the sharp edge of his canine teeth into your flesh and rolling his saliva soaked strawberry tongue over the assaulted area. “fuck— you feel like heaven, angel, c’mon, ride me...just like that, just like that…”
one hand braced on his shoulder, the other pats along the cushioned couch in search of katsuki’s phone. your birthday is his password—skillfully unlocked by you even while you clench down on the man in reward and he doesn’t hesitate to buck his hips back into you with the same level of feverishness, sloppily sliding your bodies against one another as you breathe, temperate and heavy and shakily into one another’s bruised lips. you tingle with joy, knowing yet another thing as simple as unlocking his phone boils down to just you—he’s obsessed with you, he loves you just as much as you love him. fumbling with katsuki’s phone and aim for the camera, a fresh wave of tears brew in your eyes and tangle with your lower lash line because he makes you see stars, gives you what you’ve been chasing after blindly for your whole life—the thickness of his shaft inside you as it stretches your virgin hole, the wet and impassioned snap of his hips into you, the sticky slap of his balls against your bare ass.
you’ve been dreaming of this for years and now you finally have him, all of katsuki bakugou to yourself. a selfish feeling wraps around your heart as you ride him, slow rolls of your hips taking is cock deeper into your squishy cunt, prrecum bleeding along your sensitive walls, and suddenly you feel the impulse to hit record— needing evidence of your night, something to show ochako that you’ve finally won.
the footage is blurry, the flash almost blinding you both as you turn on the camera and flip it to katsuki’s face, capturing every detail of his open mouth, tongue connected to the roof of his mouth by thick strings of spit—best visible when his head is thrown back in pure ecstasy. “the fuck are ya’doin’?” bakugou slurs, struggling to manage his words with the amount of saliva in his mouth. “you recordin’ me dirty girl? fuck, you wanna show the camera what a mess y’are f’me?” your tummy twists in delightful knots as katsuki plays himself up for the camera as soon as it turns on, giving it a toothy grin. essence pools between your raw folds, slicking up his cock as it dives into your plush folds, sliding perfectly against the soft velvet and you find yourself growing hornier from bakugou’s waves of intensity as they crash over you.
“uhuh, wan’...want keep a memo of how good you make me feel,” you tell him earnestly, almost losing your grip on the silver device you hold between your fingers— practically losing your mind when your best friend leans forward, letting all his excess spit drip down onto your joined sexes, lubing you up and making everything even more dissolute, nastier and creamier. it’s so obscene, the way his bubbles of white spit add a soft gleam to your tummy and pelvis as you both smash your sexes together—peeling back your hips from one anothers, the action only accompanied by a sticky sound. “‘hmygod, ka’suki!” the video picks up everything, especially the lewd and covetous cry you let out when bakugou grips your hips to grind you down against the wet mix he’s created, spit, his cum, your cum all coming together against your pussy.
the clip ends there and somehow you manage to spitefully forward it onto your best friend’s girlfriend. you can’t help the greedy clench of your cunt around katsuki’s pretty dick, feeling his veins sear their marks into your walls— the blonde doesn’t miss it either. it drives you wild, a frenzied blur of sex and hormones as you think of poor innocent ochako out at the party having the time of her life—it makes fat drops of your saccharine nectar to ooze from your ravaged hole just to imagine her face as the video of you fucking her boyfriend finally lights up her phone.
oh how turned on her ruined night makes you.
“you liked that, huh?” bakugou coos to you, capturing your raptured woozy stare with his ruby framed eyes that dance with lust as he pierces you on his cock over and over again. “‘course y’fuckin did, can feel it with how hard yer clampin’ dwon on me, angel,” he’s getting cocky— doped up on the way you suck him in and bounce away on him as if you’d done this before, his sweet virgin girl claiming what's rightfully hers. you need to put him back in his place, fuck your best friend hard enough to remind him who’s the rightful owner of the dick thats making you feel good for the very first time, you do everything your power to make the night last longer so you can torture the brunette bitch he’s dating even more—pushing back down on katsuki every time he thrusts up so that he can never leave the warmth of your soaked mound. the blonde leans back, watching you work yourself above him, dangerous and fiery eyes taking in the view, “so fuckin’ beauttiful when yer on’toppa me, takin’ this cock so good on your firsty try. s-shit, why didn’t i fuck you sooner, hah? got this perfect little pussy ‘n everythin’, the best i’ve ever had,”
katsuki’s praise shoots straight to your throbbing mound and has you jumping even as he slaps a rough palm over your puffy clit. “didn’t fuck me sooner , ‘cause you were to busy with her,” you snarl hotly, circling your hips over the blondes, driving his bright red tip into your g-spot, chasing your own pleasure as it bubbles in your lower tummy. “balls deep in her instead of me. shoulda been fuckin’ your favourite girl but were with ochako. why not me, suki? ‘m i not your favourite anymore?”
you reach for the phone again, pulling up the camera ready to record bakugou’s hazy response as you move to grip him by the roots of his hair, forcing him back against the couch while you bounce away in a frenzy on top of him— your unified groans slipping through the night air. “you’ve always been my favourite, she couldn’t even fuckin’ compare,” he mumbles to you, eyes glinting with mischief as you hit the record button once again. taking control, you lean forward again, spitting onto katsuki’s chest, pinching and teasing his nipples until they’re sore and he’s practically screaming your name, watching as the viscous glob rolls down between his fat pecs, “you sendin’ that shit to her, yeah? what a naughty fuckin’ girl, angel. tell ‘er whatcha gonna do to this cock, tell her whatcha gonna fuckin’ do to this cock. show her,” he sneers into the camera, dragging it down to show where your bodies join and cream froths at his base, dripping in white down his balls. “claim me for the fuckin’ camera, yeah, that’s right. fuckin’ claim me.”
hearing him breaking beneath you, desperate to keep your pussy locked onto his cock and you think; she must not be fucking him enough, not giving him enough juicy cunt to keep poor katsuki satisfied. she deserves to see what a mess your body’s made him, deserves to have her night destroyed and shattered to a million pieces by the sight of your swollen, tight, perfect pussy taking him in so nicely, and so you send off a second video to her, “you’re mine katsuki, mine forever. never hers, k-kay?” your voice is hushed as you take his lower lip between your teeth, making the pair of you an even greater mess while you guide bakugou into yet another raunchy kiss, sucking his tongue into your mouth before twirling the two pink muscles together. you claim every inch of him, with hands and tongue and your puckered hole alike—writing your name sinfully across his body so that katsuki really knows that he’s yours.
“‘m fuckin yours baby, belong to you,” the blonde says to you, his words woven with the sweetness of candy, shaky from feeling you pulse around him—heartbeat in your pussy. “don’ want anyone else to have me, show that camera how good you take you make me yours,” hot on his tongue, katsuki speaks in heated phrases before he spits onto his fingers, shoving the soiled digits against your swollen clit, blooming from the blood rush as he rubs it in tight circles, coating your sex in a crude mix of your juices and saliva—pushing it into you. the camera on the back of his phone catches it all, feeding it straight into ochako’s phone.
you pull your hips up, caught mid thrust by one of katsuki’s large hands holding your waist. you whimper at the feeling of being empty, no longer having the pressure of your best friend’s dick deep in your tummy, constantly bearing down on your g-spot hard. his cock is all the way out of you and only his tip is brushing against your clit, sticky and smeared with opaque white when bakugou makes you rut against it, stimulating yourself to your heart’s content—his bright red cockhead gliding easily between your creamy folds. he feels so good against you that you drop your grip on the phone that you miss the banging on the door outside, ignoring the sound and choosing instead to wrap your arms around bakugou’s muscled neck...stabilizing yourself while he takes ahold of the fleshy ass, kneading the flesh between calloused fingers and watching you get yourself off on him. “mmgod, fuck katsuki! lemme back on your cock, please...give it t’me, give it. please.” you squeal breathlessly, tongue rolling out of your mouth while you impatiently thrust your hips down, trying to coax the blonde back into your cute little cunt. you spit into your own hand, lubing it up before you grip his throbbing and achy shaft, jerking bakugou off until streams of foul language coat his lips and tattoo themselves against your skin. you even thumb the rim of his tip a little, knowing that he likes that.
“fuck! bakugou, i know you’re in there with that whore!” the banging on the door resumes, and you moan bakugou’s name louder, just to spitethe bitch who you know is just outside.
“angel, you, love you like this, love you on top of me, takin’ this cock as your own,” bakugou curses, flopping back against he couch and smoothing his rough hands over your body. he eventually settles them where your breasts ( as they bounce ) meet your ribcage, rubbing the area and sending goosebumps rising across your sweaty, honeyed skin. “this dick is yours, this dick s’the only one that can fuck you, this dick only goes inside this fuckin’ pussy.”
‘katsuki! open up! katsuki!’
the words are muffled by the wooden door between the outside world and the bubble you’ve made with bakugou—blood rushing through your ears, carrying lust amongst many other things. “k-katsuki, please...feels so fuckin’ good, d-don’t stop, don’t stop! you’re so good, s-so good!” you babble, losing your mind and your focus, letting everything that is katsuki bakugou overwhelm you. “i-i’m your girl, your favourite, no one else c-can have you!”
ochako’s piercing voice yells again from outside, fighting the locked door while bakugou manhandles you into a position he likes to chase the ebb of your highs as they begin to set fire to your insides. with every sharp pounding of his cock into your cunt, you both take feverish steps towards your orgasms, the blistering heat of them sneaking up on you. “‘m never gonna stop baby, not for anyone...gonna fuck you as long as you want me to, yeah? promise you. ‘m yours,” your best friend whispers, turning you around in his lap until your back is to his sticky chest. he pushes you forward by the curve of your spine, almost bending you in half as your face reaches the floor. “t-thats fuckin’ it angel, turn around around ‘n lemme see your ass bounce on me, just like that,”
“keep fuckin’ me just like that, fuckin’ ochako wishes she could be you, my favourite fuckin’ girl—ah shit!” he adds, sending a tremor of pleasure down your spine as dopamine sizzles at your nerve endings.
so you do as bakugou says, even though your thighs burn with how much you bounce up and down on him, throwing your ass back onto him to pull more of his dirty moans from his filthy mouth. your name is the only thing bakugou can say— chanting it like a prayer, as if his brain has been wiped of all other thoughts accept for you and the way you sink down on him, right to the creamy base of his dick as if it wasn’t even a problem eyes rolling, your toes curl, clamping down greedily on bakugou until his breath stutters and his dick, swollen with the load he’s holding back, has no room to breathe.
you don’t even stop fucking like animals when the door bursts open, a teary eyed ochako throwing herself into the room to the sight of her boyfriend fucking the girl she’d always been so worried about. to see him fucking you. “o-oh my god! katsuki bakugou wh-what the fuck are you doing? with her?” his girlfriend screams, but he can’t even look at her, obsessed with the way your body feels moving along with his. “you’re both fucking sick!”
“‘m gonna cum, katsuki,” you say airly, a smirk tugging at your lips as your eyes lock with shaky brown orbs—you can’t hold back at this point, your body craving to touch the white light of your release, the knots twisted in your stomach beginning to come undone as the pace of bakugou’s hips start to falter and grow impatient, churning up your insides as his sensitive tip drags along your spongy walls and pushes up against your squishy g-spot. it hurts so good to hold back, but it feels even better to watch ochako cry and scream and beg for her boyfriend to stop fucking you.
but bakugou isn’t doing any better than you are, beneath you, his muscled thighs tremble and his the stroke of his hips become sloppy and languid. “c’mon angel, cum f’me, paint this cock...let it all out f’me,” he mumbles strainedly into your shoulder, tweaking your nipples and barely acknowledging the presence of his girlfriend ( or ex, at this point ) while his calloused fingers dance down the softness of your tummy to toy with your clit once again, dragging you by the ankle towards both of your highs. “c-can’t hold it anymore baby, gonna...gonna—! fuck!”
“stop it, kastuki!”
the lewd cross of your eyes as you finally cum with katsuki is what drives uraraka off of the edge, breaking into full on sobs when your dam bursts—colours in brand new shades flashing behind your eyes, bakugou’s hips fail to slow as he guides you through your orgasm, sending you into a series of shivers and your mouth hangs open in a silent scream that makes your throat hoarse. you cum so hard that the world around you seems to fall away, throwing an arm behind you to grip the blonde locks of your best friend’s hair to ground yourself. your release splashes out against the floor, cunt fluttering rhythmically as it paints both yours and katsuki’s thighs before triggering his own high.
“f-fuck, fuck! ‘m cummin’, ‘m cummin. gonna fill you up baby...can ya take it? take my cum?” he gripes needily into the shell of your ear, high pitched and whiney. the blonde’s voice fades to static, hips bucking up into your soiled pussy with one last surge of power before he’ss spilling white hot seed into your spasming hole. there’s so much of it, bakugou’s cum bleeding out of you slipping down between your ass cheeks— your tummy practically swells form how much of his own release he’s given you and eventually, katsuki’s cantering hips slow down until they reach a grind, cock slipping out of you and spewing the last of his cum against your inner thighs and soft tummy. “holy fuckin’ shit baby, fuck.”
bakugou collapses into the couch as he comes down from the high heavens, near passing out and leaving you to deal with his gobsmacked girlfriend. “take a picture ochako, it’ll last longer!” you coo, sickly sweet, making the brunette stomp her foot like a petulant child and flee the scene.
after she’s gone, katsuki seems to stir awake with an amused laugh, pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder. “y’fuckin’ crazy angel, i love you.”
“d’ya mean that, suki?” you ask him with amused eyes as you turn around in his lap—drawing shapes over his heartbeat as you revel in the victory of your plan. “do you really love me?”
bakugou nods, rubbing his hand over the curve of your spine, kissing your nose as he slips in and out of consciousness. “always fuckin’ have, it’ll always be you, kay angel?” he tells you softly.
you barely have a chance to respond to bakugou, for he’s already passed out from how much you’d worn him out. you’d have a lot to talk about when the party was over and he'd woken up again, but for now you curl up against him contentedly— smiling at the knowledge that you’d always be his favourite girl.
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networks: @planetonet, @treehouse-network.
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sukunababy · a month ago
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Day 13. Yandere
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Pairing: Yandere!Dabi x f!reader
Synopsis: In order for you to be safe, he had no choice but to subject you to his will, making you a real doll 
Warning: Yandere!Dabi, stockholm syndrome, manipulation, dubcon, deepthroating, blowjob, hair pulling, f. masturbation, cum eating
wc: 0.9 k
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Reblogs and interactions are appreciated
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Kinktober m.list
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"Good morning, doll" he smiles as you blink a few times to adjust your eyes to the light in the room.
Your head aches as you sit up, "where ..." you try to say but he shushes you, "it's okay" he murmurs laying a finger on your lips, "you're safe here".
The chain around your neck jingles as you try to move, "what ..." it feels like days you've been standing still in that cage.
"Dabi..." big tears start to flow down your cheeks, "I want to go back home" you pray that the man in front of you will listen to your pleas but he gives a sadistic smile before opening the cage door and undoing the chain, "come out baby" he says in a soft voice.
You are forced to crawl to get out of your little pink cage, and when you are outside he sits on the floor spreading his arms wide to let you sit down, "you know I can't, doll" he whispers in your ear, "it's for your own good, I am the only one who can protect you".
You still remember how sweet he was the first time you dated, candlelight dinners, walks in the woods, moonlight sex on the beach. But soon that slight obsession with you had turned into something bigger.
Dabi had gotten into the habit of checking your mail, your phone, following you when you went to work and when you went out with your friends. When you decided it was time to put an end to it he set your entire apartment building on fire, "to make it up to you, I'm going to let you stay with me" he had told you, "I'm so sorry" he whispered as he dressed the wounds his flames had given you.
"Drink," he said when, once at his house, he handed you a glass of juice.
You remember how after one sip your head had started to spin, and then darkness.
When you opened your eyes again then you were inside a cage, pillows, blankets and stuffed animals kept you warm. You don't even know how long it was, every time you opened your eyes and started to cry, Dabi would cuddle you and then give you a drink, after that you would always collapse into a deep sleep.
"Dabi please" you cry as he keeps stroking your hair with his thumb, "it's okay" he hums kissing your forehead, "here drink this" he says handing you a glass filled with juice.
"Nooo" you yell hitting his hand and causing him to drop the glass which shatters on the ground. He is calm when he looks at you, "did you see what you did?" he asks pouting.
His pout soon becomes a smirk as he stands up and pulls down his jeans, "you know what you get when you disobey" he says starting to pump his cock into his fist.
"I want to go home" you whimper wiping your tears with the back of your hand, Dabi clicks his tongue before answering, "but honey, you don't have a home anymore" he murmurs with a smirk, "you only have me".
He taps his cock on your lips when the tears stop running down your cheeks, "open" he orders pushing himself inside your mouth.
His piercings are cold as they stroke your tongue, and his big head scratches at the back of your throat as soon as he pushes his hips against you, "be a good girl, come on" he says pressing his hand behind your head and shoving his swollen cock down your tight throat.
Drool runs down your chin as you pull your tongue out for more room for his cock, "so good" he moans as you start to bob your head back and forth, suppressing sobs and gags taking him deeper and deeper.
The words die in your throat as you remain breathless, "slow baby" he chuckles pulling out of your moist lips slightly, "you're my pretty little toy aren't you?" he murmurs moving back and forth, your hair in his fist as he fucks your throat mercilessly.
As he continues to use you as if you were his own personal fleshlight his words keep buzzing in your head, "I don't have a home anymore" the tears begin to flow down your face again, your throat begins to burn after the several strokes Dabi inflicts on it, - "I only have him," you grab his shaft with one hand as you slide the other into your shorts, - "he's the only one who can protect me."
"Mhp ..." you moan with your mouth full, you rub your nub quickly as you run your hand over his cock, "good you finally got it" he smirks throwing his head back, "don't stop" he urges you as you run the tip of your tongue along his thick vein, "shit, doll" he moans.
Your juices wet your thighs as you cum on your fingers, "you came, good girl" he praises you - "that's what I want" his big cock twitches as you suck the tip, you make him cum slowly in your mouth, swallowing sip after sip of his seed.
"You're my good girl," he murmurs as you quickly swallow his cock one last time and sit back on your heels.
Satisfied with your new attitude Dabi leans over you, his blue eyes in yours are bright, "do you still want to leave?" he asks with a smirk. - "no Dabi" you murmur batting your eyelashes, "why not?" he asks rubbing his calloused thumb over your lips, "because Dabi is the only one who can keep me safe" you suck his thumb into your mouth when he leans over his knees, "that's my good girl" he murmurs pushing you into your little pink cage.
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Taglist: @cinnamonwishes @akinokisetsu @kuroohoeee @cookiesformytummy @ghostietales @kamizama @eremikakisses @softjaegerhours @Nelvvyyy @NamiKawaiiNeko @haobrcndy @heichouswife @nezsded @mutsu422 @justcellie @tangorohamado @atshena @br4tsuki @shawtybethicc @akiko-cum @whalecage @daddykakashisensei @dibhachu @kamustyles @akaashi-todorki @katsuki-baby @zekesblckgf @smilling-death @suga-tofu @bluellama7 @tojibreedingme @tirzamisu @yumijeager @haitanihime @quacksonlover81
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deartouya · 12 days ago
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featuring. bakugou katsuki, dabi, aizawa shota, todoroki shoto + keigo takami.
warnings: none except maybe a little suggestiveness and teasing in hawks + dabi’s.
note: pretty much that old tiktok trend and i just cant stop thinking about how warm and comfy dabi’s lap would be :/ 
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✞ BAKUGOU was sat on the couch, scribbling down some random new costume ideas and signing some papers before bed. but you felt a little touch starved, missing the natural warmth that came with being wrapped in your boyfriend. “’suki?” you drawl, the soft tone of your voice catching his attention immediately as he raises a curious brow, grunting in response. but you dont say anything else, instead you just slide yourself onto his lap, tracing your fingers up his biceps in the process, grinning when you watch him immediately freeze up- cheeks tinting pink. “what are you doing, dumbass?” bakugou groans, shuffling under you slightly with a sigh but he still doesn't tell you to get off, allowing you to get comfortable before you feel the natural heat of his palm rest against your lower back- his chin resting on your shoulder with a tsk and a few grumbles, hoping you dont notice the way his blush has now spread to the tips of his ears as he pouts down at the papers infront of him. “fine, ju-just sit still would ya?” bakugou huffs, holding you close while he traces his fingers soothingly along your back.
✞ DABI you’d decided to do it during one of the league meetings, hoping you'd be able to get some sort of reaction out of your boyfriend. dabi’s eyes are on you immediately when you enter the room, re-adjusting himself on the old couch to make room for you beside him. you try to suppress the grin on your lips when you approach him instead, sliding your way between his legs before climbing onto his lap- his face remains unphased apart from the slight raise of his brow but you’re surprised when his arms reach for you anyway, hands resting on your hips as if this had been planned all along, almost making you pout at the smug expression on his face while he leans in closer. “yeah? infront of the league, doll?” dabi almost groans, words a drawl while his gaze locks on yours, pulling your hips flush against his own “aren’t you bold.” you’re only jolted from the haze of your mind when you hear shigaraki bark at you both to “get a room” with a disgusted scowl on his face, causing dabi to flick him off with a cocky grin before his hand returns to playfully smack at your ass, shooting you a smirk and a wink after “oh, we will.”
✞ AIZAWA he was grading papers while he sat at the desk in the spare bedroom of your home, hair tied back out of his face as he ran an exhausted hand over his face - head slowly turning to face you while you approached him in the doorway, watching his features soften immediately. “you okay?” shota hums, sleep evident in his tone. you only offer him a nod in reply before nudging at his arm slightly, and you're surprised when he raises it, pushing his chair out from under the desk to allow you to crawl into his lap smoothly. “almost done.” he sighs while you allow yourself to get comfortable, feeling him pull himself closer to the desk again before one of his hands rest on the back of your head, guiding you to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. suddenly finding yourself feeling tired yourself while surrounded by his warmth, the scribbling of his pen and your soft breathing filling the room- feeling him place a gentle kiss against your shoulder before you drift off in his hold.
✞ TODOROKI you were a little nervous to try it with him honestly, not being too sure how he would react or if he even would. so you had waited until he was sitting on his bed, smiling softly at you before gently patting the space next to him. so you approach, a little hesitantly at first but eventually you decide to just do it - smoothly sliding into his lap and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. shoto freezes, momentarily- arms still by his side as he looks at you with wide eyes and parted lips, a little confused. “are you cold or something?” it makes your heart bloom at the innocence of the question, deciding to just nod and try to play it off as just that. but you dont expect to feel his arms lightly wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him while he rests his face in the crook of your neck- breathing softly before he eventually speaks “is this better?” he breathes and you hold him a little tighter when you notice the faint tint of red on the tips of his ears, “its perfect.” 
✞ HAWKS was always looking for ways to fluster you, so you thought you’d try take this as an opportunity to do the same to him. waiting until he was lying in bed after a long day of patrols, amber eyes heavy with sleep but still focused on you when the bed dips under your weight. “oho~ what’s this? how can i help you, angel?” his words are laced in a teasing tone, his lips stretching into a handsome smirk as his hands immediately reach for your figure- pulling you even closer against him until you're almost lying completely on top of him. his fingers tilting your chin up in favour of his lips ghosting your own. “come on, baby. what now?” you want to roll your eyes at the sickly sweet tone and the playful glint in his eyes, realising that he probably figured you out before you even started- but when you feel his palm smooth along your hips and pull you closer, raising a brow at you before his lips finally press against your own- you realise you dont really care anyway.
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shotoh · 3 months ago
Hello! Not sure if your requests are open (please ignore if they're not) but I love the way you write smut I'm just w e t just reading your stuff and I was wondering if you could do one with Todoroki? He has a shy Fem s/o who is very quiet during sex. And when he asks her why one day she tells him it's because her last ex-boyfriend made fun of her moans and just general sounds she made all the time, so she goes silent. Cue Shouto doing everything in his power to get every single noise he can from her. Lots of praise, fluff, Dom!Sho™ and of course sin 😈 (again please ignore if you don't want to do this but I love your writing and I hope you have a great day)
let me hear you
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SYNOPSIS: Despite the seemingly positive progression in both your relationship and your sex life, Shouto starts to question his ability to please you in bed after noticing how he could barely provoke even a noise past your lips. Little did he realize that there was another factor responsible for this occurrence—your rough past with your ex-boyfriend.
pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader
genre: angst, fluff, SMUT
word count: 12.2k+
warnings/tags: 18+, dominant!shouto, experienced!shouto, pro-hero!shouto, submissive!reader, shy!reader, characters are aged up accordingly, insecurities, mentions of past toxic relationships, blindfolds, sensory overload/deprivation, temperature play, quirk play, nipple play, praising, dirtytalk, hair-pulling, spanking, soft to rough sex, some degradation at the end (but not a lot), creampie
author’s note: so as you can tell by the length, this request got me inspired to turn this specific scenario into a whole fic, and as a result, it’s been taking me a while to get anything out to you guys. but it’s here and it’s done (finally)! sorry anon if you were looking for pwp… i actually have some other stuff in my inbox that i’ve been neglecting, so from now on, unless my motivation jumps for any reason, i’ll try to keep my answers short and simple! as in more in range of the “thirst posting” variety! so don’t be afraid to send anything in!
big shoutout to my girl rosie ( @shoutogepi​​ ) for beta-reading this for me! love you, babe, and im extremely thankful for your feedback <3
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Shouto had acknowledged from early on that you were a shy little thing.
When he first met you, you wouldn’t so much as look him in the eye if you could help it, too hesitant to start a proper conversation with him after growing very aware of his reputation. Any glance or thought of him would cause you to erupt in a fit of distress. You’d shake your head and make a beeline toward the opposite direction whenever you saw him coming.
Yet as much as you wanted to stop your feelings from getting out of hand, there came a moment when you both couldn’t deny the attraction that pulled you toward each other time and time again. The string of tension was wound tighter throughout every encounter at your workplaces; it was only a matter of time before it finally snapped.
Then came the pivotal day Shouto had admitted his interest in you, and in turn, you confessed that your feelings for him were mutual. Which led you to make this work somehow.
As the two of you progressed through your relationship, Shouto had taken extra care to advance at your pace. Dates and meet-ups were as frequent as both your schedules would allow for them. Through trials of time and effort, you gradually grew comfortable around each other, discussing even the most mundane things in your lives. Well, as mundane as a hero’s everyday experiences could get. With every exchange, you were making headway in closing the gap and allowing your budding attraction for each other to blossom.
Surprisingly, hand-holding and other physical forms of affection were a hurdle you both overcame quicker than you imagined. It became ingrained to the point that it hadn’t even occurred to you that your fingers were already intertwined while walking alongside each other, or that you made a habit of kissing his cheek—and him, the back of your hand—at the end of your dates until you consciously noticed it one day. You found it an accomplishment for an individual as shy as yourself and someone like Shouto, who mostly kept to a reserved lifestyle.
From then on, you conquered many barriers to bridge a foundation of trust and familiarity. You were thankful that you could freely express yourself around him without fear of judgment. So as the gap in your relationship naturally shortened little by little, it wasn’t long before you two became official and committed yourselves to no other.
In due time, those countless outings that helped flourish your development would eventually lead you to come over to Shouto’s abode.
On one particular night, after Shouto had finished his hero work, he dialed your number just before taking off from his agency’s building, and asked how your day was, only to find out you were stranded at your workplace. The train you usually took home was caught in a huge accident that had cut off most of the routes toward your apartment complex. Upon hearing that you were in the middle of securing a motel to take refuge in for the night, he immediately frowned and blurted out an offer before you could even get the rest of your words across his speakerphone.
“How about you stay at my place tonight?”
There was no way Shouto was letting you stay in some dusty, shady motel room while he had such a cozy space all to himself at home. And despite the circumstances, he had been meaning to ask you to visit his place for a while now.
To be frank, his home was way too big to be occupied by just himself anyway. He had always thought that it could use a bit of sprucing up in the form of people to fill the abundant space to make it more homey. Maybe roommates?
All that aside, he had to deal with your living arrangements for the night first. He sat silently behind the wheel of his car, waiting for your answer. He hoped he wasn’t breaching a level of closeness you weren’t ready to confront yet.
On the other line, you were more hesitant than you liked. You knew greatly that Shouto extended the invitation out of the kindness of his heart, with absolutely no ill-intentions.
No, that wasn’t the problem at all. What weighed heavily on your mind was the fact that this would be the first night you’d share together since becoming a couple.
Which meant that sex wasn’t entirely off the table, right?
Surely no one could blame you for thinking like that. He was a handsome young man, and you, a ripe, young woman—both who had particular needs.
If the newspaper headlines, magazine cover spreads, and billboard signs didn’t give it away already, Shouto was quite a sought-after man. He was a hero whom both women and men would love to succumb to a night full of pleasure with, and you should be thinking the same—revel in the idea actually. Considering he’s, well… yours.
Still… you had a cloud of uncertainty hanging above your head. You were no stranger to sex, but you couldn’t say your last encounters with it were the greatest. Not that you weren’t confident in Shouto’s ability to please a woman—it was simply an entirely different matter altogether.
In the end, you pondered the thought for longer than you probably should’ve.
“Y/n. Y/n?”
Hearing Shouto’s concerned voice resounding in the background made you realize you were holding him up. You shook yourself out of your daze, returning to the conversation. “Ah right,” you uttered sheepishly.
You heard his deep, lighthearted chuckle in your ear. “When you weren’t answering, I almost thought my phone died,” he joked mildly. “So are you okay with coming over? If not then I can drive you to somewhere I think is fairly–”
“N-No, it’s alright, I’ll take you up on your offer tonight.” As you gave your final answer, your voice floundered, trying to make up for your negligence in responding.
There was a stagger of silence, and unbeknownst to you, a smile enveloped Shouto’s lips as he reclined back in his car seat. “Okay, stay put then,” you could hear him start the ignition of his vehicle, the moderate purr of the engine revving in the background before it was overshadowed by the pleasant lilt in his tone, “I’ll be right there to pick you up.”
Not long after your conversation, Shouto pulled up on the side of the curb next to your building, prompting you with a text that he had arrived. Coming onto the sidewalk and seeing him hold his hand up in a gentle wave upon making eye contact with you had butterflies fluttering in your stomach like a young school girl. The sight reminded you of when Shouto would drive over during your lunch breaks to whisk you away for a pleasant chat in the afternoon, or when he’d directly pick you up at your apartment for your planned dates. You supposed this could be considered a date in itself, except unlike the other occasions, you wouldn’t be going back to your apartment afterward.
Then as Shouto whirred in the direction of his residence under the dim-lit roads, the night went on just as you expected it to.
With the thought of having sex with him lingering in your head, the atmosphere in Shouto’s lavish house was suffused with an overwhelming amount of sexual tension.
Though his proposal was an innocent one, it didn’t take long for the man to mirror your indecent thoughts. While you made yourself at home, his scent unknowingly intermingled with yours. You walked out of the shower, wearing only a t-shirt of his that he deemed appropriate enough for you to use tonight, since it acted as more of a long dress than anything. Little did he realize the image of his baggy clothes hanging off your shoulders—exposing your bare collarbones and legs to his prying eyes—would spur him to interpret the situation differently.
When you emerged from the bathroom—skin dewy, tepid, and wrapped in the subtle woody notes of his bath products—you spotted him eyeing you intently at a distance. Aware of the prolonged eye contact, Shouto’s gaze dashed elsewhere and he excused himself to the kitchen to see if he could scramble up something for the both of you to eat, but not before telling you to help yourself to anything in his home.
“I’ll see what we’ll be having for dinner tonight. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable.”
You nodded, a tender smile lifting your face at his hospitality. “Thanks, Sho, and also thank you again for letting me stay here. To be honest, I feel a bit spoiled being in a place like this.” You shied away and teetered on the balls of your feet as you held your hands behind your back.
To Shouto you looked so innocent and sweet—he’d always thought that way about you, but in this instance, there was an underlying layer of allure you held that threatened a lot of his willpower.
From the kitchen, he caught his eyes straying from his cooking, instead wandering in the direction of the living room where you were idling on the couch, your legs tucked beside you. The hem of your (his) shirt brushed against your bare legs with every shift in your position, and it was honestly so goddamn distracting how the fabric would ride up and tease him with subtle displays of your skin. He swore at one point he spotted a flash of color from beneath the hem, but he immediately looked away before he could process the sight.
Despite trying his hardest to push temptation away, he couldn’t deny his desire to embrace you in his arms and press his lips across every inch of skin hiding underneath that loose piece of clothing, dreaming about tossing it off your body for good.
“Calm down, Shouto,” he quietly chided, refocusing on his cutting board before he’d end up hurting himself by accident. He felt like he was leveraging your trust and encroaching on a threshold that he had no right to cross yet—shamelessly sneaking glances at you while you were so vulnerable. Being too distracted, he didn’t pick up on your feet stepping into the kitchen, not until you suddenly spoke up out of curiosity.
“So what are you making?”
His knife hit the wooden board with a single brisk noise that echoed across his kitchen. He turned around, discovering you standing behind him, peering over his shoulder.
“Just some simple rice, salmon, and miso soup. I’m not that great of a cook but I know the basics at least.” He set his knife down as you neared him and placed yourself at his left to get a closer look. Being evidently taller than you, if he even glanced down from this particular angle, he could get a glimpse at the peek of cleavage exposed from the fabric slipping down your shoulders. At the thought, his body had gone on autopilot, and his movements were rigid and extra guarded in your presence.
Your doey eyes gave him a look of uncertainty. He swallowed thickly, “I hope you’re fine with it.”
“Oh, yeah I’m more than fine! It’s just that you seemed like you were having some trouble over here,” you mentioned, peeping over at his station and witnessing his face furrowed in intense concentration, to which you assumed he must have been struggling with the task at hand. His eyebrows were scrunched, the skin between them folded inward as a gritted frown settled on his lips just before his pearly white teeth lightly bit down on the lower skin out of frustration.
Of course you were concerned for him, but was it weird that you also found the whole picture kind of sexy? You couldn’t help but shift your legs around when you were sitting in the living room, finding it incredibly hard to sit still, feeling a desperate need for friction in between your thighs over the idea that you really had a man like him all to yourself. So you half-approached him as an act of concern, your fantasy from earlier slowly consuming the forefront of your mind. Not only did the engaged expression painted on his suave features capture your interest, but the sleeves of his button-up shirt were folded up, allowing you to ogle at the veins and hardened expanse of muscle ripped down his arms.
You placed a hand on his arm, your voice becoming hushed and sweet—practically lascivious by how Shouto tensed up. “Do you need some help?”
Despite the nature of your question, there was an absence of worry in your tone, replaced by heady desire that slipped through the brittle cracks in Shouto’s resolve. From a brief glance at your pouty lips and the lust forming in the highlights of your eyes, he knew you wanted to embark on that next step in your relationship just as much as he did.
“Yes. I do.”
Before you could even process the rapid turn of events, Shouto’s hands were already on you, shoving you to the nearest flat surface available. He whisked you into his arms, his hands finding purchase beneath your ass where he palmed at the material of your panties, mindful of the chiffon texture. What a vixen. If it weren’t for that accident with the train earlier, he would have assumed you were planning this.
Feeling your back come in contact with a wall, your arms strung around his neck. Your body hovered off the ground, legs winding at his waist to pull him closer and feel his hard erection grind against your crotch through his pants.
Shouto continued kissing you, his breaths hot and heavy every time your lips met. Yet as your mouths merged and he felt every inch of the soft skin of your pretty lips, he couldn’t decipher whether you found elation through what was transpiring. Though your breathing was ragged, the noise that departed you was nothing short of an incredibly light whimper.
He detached his lips from yours out of worry, despite you making an effort to chase after them. When you realized he wanted to take a pause, you relaxed against the wall, still clinging onto the man as you regained your breath. Shouto took this moment to scan over you. Your cheeks were hot and your expression was flustered—eyes hooded, lips quivering, and wordlessly pleading him for more of his touch. By how you didn’t put up any resistance, he took it as a sign that he was allowed to continue.
But he wanted to be entirely sure. “Are you okay?”
Blinking at him, you were surprised he would have to ask that, but thought of it as characteristic of Shouto to dwell over the matter of taking things at your pace. After you nodded, you spotted a sliver of relief wash over him. His face softened as he readjusted his grip to maneuver you off the wall. He closed some distance between your faces, but did not come for your lips just yet to utter a question, “Shall we take this to my bedroom then?”
This time you didn’t have to say any reply, only gliding through the empty space between your lips, kissing him fervidly to determine your answer. He immediately reciprocated, tilting his head to link your mouths perfectly together. You kept yourselves like that throughout the trip to Shouto’s room and were thankful that he knew his own home like the back of his hand, navigating the expanse swiftly and carefully. Your dinner was long forgotten and before you knew it Shouto dropped you gently on his futon. His body hovered over yours, practically consuming it as he lowered his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue inviting itself to brush against every crevice of your mouth.
Throughout the slow and deliberate dance of your lips, the two of you discarded your clothing until nothing but your underwear was left to separate you from feeling each other at your most intimate. Shouto was glad the night had progressed to the point where he could finally manifest his imaginations and trail his hot lips across your bare skin.
“You’re so pretty, love. And so tempting. Do you realize what you were doing to me earlier, showing off your beautiful legs—exposing your skin that looked like it was begging for me to kiss?” he asked, not expecting a proper answer, but more so a pleasurable, dulcet sound. One that you didn’t want to give him just yet as he continued speaking racy praises into your ears. “I can’t believe it took me this long to finally worship you like this.”
Even as he nipped at every inch of skin his eyes could see, he couldn’t pull many noises from your lips. It was a sign that made doubt crawl in his head, worried that he was coming onto you too fast. However, as his fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties, he was pleased at the wetness pooling between your thighs. He could practically hear his fingers squelch while playing with your folds, and was content with your face contorting into a look of obscenity the more his fingers prodded you.
Your teeth were gritted, feeling the temperature rise quickly in your belly. You brought your hand to your mouth to block out any noise that would leak out as Shouto began spinning his pads against your clit methodically. It was a detail the man noticed, but didn’t bother to comment on out loud, thinking it was rather cute how you were trying to suppress your moans.
His other hand pushed your bra up to reveal your tits to the air, kneading one mound to add to the sear growing in your abdomen. You forced down a squeal despite the tantalizing sensations of having your entire body played with.
“You’re sucking me in and squeezing around my fingers so well. Such a good girl... You’re gonna cum any moment aren’t you?” He gandered down at you, loving how your face scrunched and you moved your hips in tandem with his actions. You offered a frantic nod, caught in the ecstasy of him repeatedly hitting your sweet spot until you eventually felt the heat in your abdomen about to boil over.
“Let me hear you…” he uttered at the last second, but you must have been too ensnared by the sensations to bother listening, biting at your bottom lip while writhing underneath him.
Then one single thrust with his thick fingers finally set you off. Your legs thrashed next to him and you arched your back on the futon, the act of containing your moans making your body lash out more than usual as you came on his fingers. The lone sound that dropped from your lips was nothing but empty noise. Your mouth opened only for nothing to come out, concealed by your need to silence yourself as your hand curled next to your lips and your eyes were shut tight.
Again, your lover did not want to make you feel self-conscious by making any remark on how… much more quiet you were than he expected. He was just glad that you felt plenty of relief and rapture, finding his own pleasure in your cum soaking his fingers, pulling them out of your messy cunt to inspect the sheen glossing them.
Even if your voice didn’t choose to give it away, your reactions surely conveyed your descent into bliss. They were such a treat to gaze upon, Shouto almost wanted to frame each one. He would have to settle with the fact that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to witness them... considering he still had a throbbing hard cock tied down in his briefs.
“Did that feel good, baby? Are you alright?” His voice sounded tender and his actions reflected that same gentleness, massaging up and down your shaking thighs.
Still undergoing the effects of that intense orgasm, it took you a while to register his words, but once you did, your shyness took over and your voice murmured out, “Yeah, it was great…” Your affirmation brought back that relieved expression across Shouto’s face that looked down at you with a warm smile, white and red bangs clinging to his forehead.
Not wanting your demureness to get the better of you, you scooted up to pull your panties off, dangling them on one ankle before tossing them to the side. Garnering some courage, you spread your legs and fully exposed your sopping center to his greedy eyes that went wide at the sight, akin to a wolf finally spotting a delicious morsel of meat.
“Please, I want you to fuck me already.”
He gulped at your request but soon fell back into place, that stunned look melting into fervor as he crawled above you.
“Oh, I will, love. I’m gonna make our first night together one you’ll always remember.”
And he did just that, pounding you into the sheets until your head spun and you could think of nothing but his body devouring yours and his length penetrating every crevice inside your pussy.
Though Shouto couldn’t draw the noises he had been anticipating from you, he was satisfied nonetheless. His cum had coated your walls in thick white that overflowed from your folds after you told him at the last second that you were on birth control. Hearing that was enough to drive him to his peak and he released with a loud grunt that overpowered the fragile silence encompassing the room, making up for your lack of moans. The sound rang in your ears and you were shocked by how sexy his voice was—the gravely yet rich rasp in his tone a sublime conclusion to a night snarled by passion. In the back of your mind, you were glad your lackluster noises didn’t distract you from his.
Unaware of the self-deprecation muddling your thoughts, Shouto succumbed to exhaustion beside you, his energy depleted sooner than normal after a long day of hero work and a lack of food in the tank. It wasn’t his fault he had an appetite for something else, and after having his fill, you were staring at him with droopy eyes and a lazy grin, looking just as, or even more, tired than he was. He’d have to make it up to you with a hearty breakfast in the morning.
Not long after did you doze off into slumber next to him. Curling into his chest, he drew you closer and tossed the sheets over your naked body. Shouto wanted to admire your vulnerable state for a while longer before he’d follow behind you, but as he caressed your hair and kissed your forehead, the scene of what had transpired replayed in his mind. He recalled the times you blocked out your voice, not letting a single note slip past your lips— even when it seemed like he was doing a stellar job at getting your body to surrender to ecstasy.
But as the thought dawdled, Shouto suggested to himself it wouldn’t be good to overthink it and ruin the mood when you were blissfully asleep next to him. It wasn’t like it was necessarily a bad thing that you kept your voice to yourself. It was all a matter of how others reacted to different situations. People could be quiet or loud during sex and perhaps you chose to express yourself in other ways while being intimate with your partner. At least, that’s what he hoped before his head sank in his pillow and he closed his eyes, waiting for morning to rise.
Since closing even more of the distance between you that night, you and Shouto made sex an avid part of your relationship. It felt like you two couldn’t go without it, exchanging yearning looks in between moments before coming at each other like animals and tangling yourselves in your limbs. You were even bold enough to fuck in Shouto’s office on one of your lunch breaks, initially dropping off a bento for him at his agency in case he dismissed eating for overworking himself again, only to discover your efforts were pointless as you both ignored your food altogether and found your fill in different ways.
Whenever you went at it in such compromising locations, Shouto was somewhat thankful you muted your noises. But that brought up another constant ever since that night, one which overtime, increasingly became an enigma to him.
In a span of a month, all he could manage to get you to utter while stuffed with his cock was a squeal. Even then, it was relatively muffled in comparison to the enthusiastic reactions he received from his previous partners, who were always babbling nonsense after losing themselves on his cock.
Shouto was never bothered by this fact enough to lose sleep over it. However, it was jarring to him whenever he heard his own voice above yours, and the notion of whether he was the only one finding pleasure in bed together rose for him to question his ability to satisfy his partner. The tendency to ask how you were doing after seemingly making you orgasm through any method of fingers, tongue, or both, developed into a habit marked by doubt. Out of need for a sense of security, he established a safeword for you to use whenever it was necessary, without needing to explain his lackluster performance or otherwise; he’d honor your request wholeheartedly if that were the case. Luckily, no opportunity ever emerged for you to have to use the safeword thus far, which left him stumped. So what exactly spurred you to stay so silent?
Pondering this to himself wouldn’t help him find any closure. He had to be direct with his approach and that meant spilling his thoughts to you.
That very chance appeared on one of your outings together, where you sat with a cup of tea and coffee within the serene atmosphere of a cafe, discussing the current trends with work and friends. He brought up the question casually in conversation, being deliberate with his wording as to not pose concern and perhaps make it a bigger deal than it really was.
“Y/n, we’ve been together for some time now and I’m glad that we’ve gotten so close with each other…” Shouto’s voice lingered off as he watched light ripples cascade the surface of his drink. His misty turquoise and silver eyes trailed over to you bringing your cup of tea to your lips. He drew in a breath to ready himself for what he wanted to say. Meanwhile, you gulped hard for the warm, earthy liquid to ebb through you, hoping it would soothe the jitters you felt upon hearing his words.
Shouto cleared his throat, attempting to look you straight in the eye. “But I’ve noticed that you’ve always been really quiet whenever we have sex. And it’s not exactly a big deal or anything, but I was just wondering why that is?” He paused for a second, the other question he wanted to ask teetering on the tip of his tongue. Hesitant mismatched eyes slowly averted from yours and his fingers curled into his palm on the table. “Am I not as good as you were hoping?”
Hearing his remark, your tea nearly went down the wrong pipe, and you almost choked in response. You quickly set your cup down to stammer, “N-No, not at all! You’re great, Shouto! Terrific actually!” You clarified almost too loudly, scanning over your surroundings to see if anyone was bothered before straightening yourself and adjusting your volume accordingly.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been making you feel this way. It wasn’t my intention at all.” You searched his face, reading the hesitance all over his features that began to ridden you with guilt. “Like I said, you’re more than I could ever ask for in a boyfriend, Sho. You’re so kind, patient, and mindful of all my needs that I sometimes feel like I don’t deserve you. I guess, right now, that statement isn’t far off considering I haven’t been very aware of how you’ve felt lately.” Too ashamed to look him in the eye, you twiddled with your thumbs and kept your head down.
“And… Well… There is a reason why I’ve always chosen to be silent during sex.”
You pressed through your uneasiness to peel off the layers of your past relationships, confessing how your last ex-boyfriend told you that you’d be better off staying quiet when you fucked so you wouldn’t “ruin the mood”. You vividly remembered all the mean comments he said to you, where he mocked your voice and the noises you made. It discouraged you from even opening your mouth sometimes while having sex with him. Even when you spoke to your ex about how his words made you feel, he simply scoffed and brushed everything under the rug as a joke, stating you were too sensitive. Needless to say, you ended that relationship quickly. However, the damage had been done and his words unconsciously stuck with you, affecting your habits.
While in the middle of explaining your history, you hadn’t noticed Shouto’s fist shake beneath the table, his reluctant face slowly contorting in anger as he gnawed at the inside of his cheek. It was when you spoke in great detail about what your ex said to you that he snapped.
“He said what?” he seethed. He was too blinded by ire to regard his cup of coffee boiling with bubbles from the heat radiating off his body.
He wanted to believe that if anything, your bashfulness was what was preventing you from letting your voice run loose. But to instead discover that someone had diminished your confidence enough to invoke a habit like that? Shouto was fuming.
You were stunned by his tone and even more so at his escalating ferocity. Gauging his anger, you wouldn’t be surprised if he went out to go find your ex and give him a piece of his mind this instant.
“Wait, Shouto, chill out!” you warned while frantically waving your hands at him, overhearing a patron in the cafe comment on how hot it suddenly was.
Blinking in realization, he swiftly activated his ice side to dispel the heat, returning to his normal temperature. He exhaled a frosty breath of air. “Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing his neck. You told him he didn’t need to apologize for anything.
“There’s no reason to get worked up about it anyway, he’s not worth the energy. And besides, he’s out of my life now so I should just forget about him.” You attempted to muster more confidence in your words, but found your resolve fleeting. Your eyes dropped to your tea and you took a sip to mitigate the silence afterward.
Shouto thought to himself that it must have been easier said than done when remembering how insistent you were in holding yourself back in bed, whether you were conscious of your actions or not. The white and red-haired man gripped his cup of coffee, swirling the umber liquid with a single gyration of his hand.
“I’m going to be honest,” Shouto began.
You held your breath, another guzzle of tea traveling down your throat. Somehow the assertive side of Shouto made you nervous at times like this.
“Your ex is nothing short of an asshole.”
Then as fast as your hesitance came, you were instantly relieved and released the breath you held. You were glad he shared the same sentiment.
A heavy sigh left his lips in the wake of his words as he set his coffee down. “I don’t think anyone deserves to have their partner mock them over something they can’t control. Plus, who does he think he is to say those things to you...” He was blunt about his distaste for your ex and didn’t bother to suppress his expressions when speaking about him. That alleviated a lot of the trepidations that crept over you at the recollection of your past.
It was like you had always thought—Shouto was such a breath of fresh air next to your former partners. You genuinely couldn’t believe someone could be so nice and understanding before he popped into your life. That being said, you felt guilty that he’d been questioning his worth as your boyfriend because of this, going as far as to doubt his competence in bed by how he could barely excite a proper moan off your lips, when you have felt nothing but bliss the entire time with him.
“I’m sorry I never mentioned this until now,” you murmured, your voice dwindling. Your hands enveloped the ceramic holding your tea, warming your palms and casting a blanket of security in an otherwise awkward position. Sensing you faltering into your docile nature, Shouto pried one of your hands off the cup and encased it in his own. His left side offered you another source of solace that beckoned your eyes to him.
“Regardless of what anyone thinks, I want you to know that that doesn’t matter to me. Whether you’re quiet or loud, soft or rough, or anything else.” He caressed his thumb against the back of your hand, inching it closer to him. “All I care about is that you’re you, and as a couple, we shouldn’t be afraid to express ourselves in front of each other, right?”
Then as a final sign of his sincerity, his lips met your skin, grazing your knuckles against them ever so lightly but just enough that you felt the disparate coldness that made your skin tingle and your heart react all the same. His words immediately pierced through you, helping you to open your eyes and remember just what your relationship stood for after countless moments spent unconditionally loving each other. A softened smile graced your lips that glowed before Shouto’s eyes, to which he couldn’t help but replicate, the newfound light in your pupils dazzling and infectious.
Basking in his affirmations, you gently drew your entwined hands to your side so you could return the favor and place a delicate kiss on the edge of his pinky finger. “Thank you, Sho. You have no idea how much your words mean to me.”
Eyes lidded in relief, he was glad everything was resolved and your insecurities were washing away down the stream, as were his.
Which meant it was fine for him to tease you a bit, right? He had to take advantage of the opportunity while it was fresh, the impish bone in his body acting impulsively. Rising slightly from his seat, he slanted across the table to wane the gap and hover next to your ear.
“You’ll let me hear them next time, won’t you? All your pretty noises?” he whispered huskily, making sure you knew those words were for you and you alone. According to how your eyes immediately fled toward your lap—unable to will yourself to return your gaze straight at him—you got the message.
“O-Of course…” you replied softly, nervous yet unable to ignore the excitement that pumped through your veins, thinking about what the future might entail from here on out. Shouto reverted to his side, easing away from your space.
After downing the remnants of his ground coffee, he reached for his wallet to pull out a hefty tip to leave on your table. Walking over to your seat, he helped you up, your hands naturally lacing together. He leaned over to adorn a kiss against your hair, whispering about how he would look forward to you keeping your promise, then escorted you both out of the cafe.
It was no surprise to the pair that “next time” came very, very soon.
In a short span of only a couple hours actually, after you’d concluded your business throughout the day and found yourselves at Shouto’s residence once again.
You could hardly wait until you were beyond the borders of his home, struggling to keep your hands to yourselves the entire drive there ever since that flicker of passion sparked in the aftermath of your date. The second you crossed that threshold, Shouto pounced on you before you could even pull your heels off, pushing your back against the closed door.
You instinctively opened your mouth to allow his tongue to prod your cavern and dance against yours. Your motions led to teeth clashing and irregular breaths blending together in a tempest that grew more rampant with every second you clung to each other in the entryway. You both possessed a desperate need to feel the other’s warmth within your palms, pawing at the clothes on your backs as you ached to be rid of them.
Languidly dragging your bottom lip between his teeth, Shouto nipped at the fragile outer layer with enough pressure that rushed heat to the surface, and released it from his mouth to observe its plushness bouncing back.
After detaching your lips—albeit with notable reluctance—his forehead rested on yours. His arms were at either side of your head, trapping you as you both broke out into rough breaths. He brought his thumb to your mouth, pressing against your bottom lip that felt scorching beneath the pad of his finger.
Peering at him, you watched delirium swirl in the icy hues of his eyes that observed every detail he could behold. He looked as if he was devouring you with his potent stare alone, marveling at his treasure with the most wanton expression on his handsome face. To have this much of an effect over Shouto still after months of being together set a flare off inside you.
Thoroughly recalling that conversation from the cafe, you were starting to grow braver with every minute that passed. Your shy nature withered at your boldness, triggering you to part more of your lips as your hazy eyes locked with his firmly.
“Shouto~” you moaned. The airy wisp that teemed from your lips was soft yet very much audible to Shouto’s ears. His senses perked up at the sound of your voice registering to him cleanly and he swore the friend in his pants twitched at the sweet utter of his name.
Fuck, what did he have to do to hear more? Shouto had asked himself this, but his body was very aware of the answer, already moving on its own, urged by the dull ache between his legs.
“C’mere–” Shouto left his actions to do most of the talking, too impatient to get his words across. He tugged you off the door, embracing you in his arms before you were easily hoisted over his shoulder.
Giddiness bubbling, you giggled at his display of strength. You were no stranger to this scene, where Shouto’s eagerness found you both in his bedroom at breakneck speeds. However, this occasion was different from the others.
The flames of arousal had flickered in your veins, weaving their way through your entire system. You both knew the blaze would grow until you were practically delirious with arousal and begging with desperation in your voice for that fire to be doused by only him. No one else. Shouto counted on it—counted on you to plead and scream for him by the end of the night. You made a promise after all, and by your show of neediness at the door, you were willing to give him just what he wanted, what he craved.
It was all a matter of how many saccharine sounds he could provoke off your lips. When he had entered his bedroom, he already had a clear idea just how he was going to get every noise he could think of out of you. But first…
Shouto slid you safely down his shoulder, where as soon as you touched the ground he resumed devouring your lips.
“Mmph–” Spit pooled in your throat, your tongue and body suppressed in a whirlwind that forced you backwards. You stumbled onto soft bedding that was, to your surprise, more elevated than you were expecting. The man grinned against you, foreseeing the mild amazement on your face. When you separated with a thread of spit connecting your lips, you pawed at your surroundings, immediately grasping the expansive king-size bed below you that was slightly raised on a wooden platform frame.
Reading the reaction on your face, the man above you chuckled. “You like it? I had it installed a couple of days ago.”
You had to admit that this spacious mattress was definitely an upgrade from Shouto’s futon, which was originally supposed to fit only one adult man. Still, you made do with what you had at the time, and though certain positions were limited with the space you were given, you hadn’t ever complained.
As for Shouto, the new bed was a rather impulsive decision, one that was spurred by the many nights he shared with you, tucking you in at his side until morning came. He couldn’t help but splurge on it. To him, it would all be worth it in the end.
With plans of how to make good use of the new bed floating in his mind, Shouto’s grin edged on a smirk as he crept closer to your ear.
“Why don’t we try and break it in?”
His deep voice dripped with a suggestive lilt that made your thighs almost clench together, if not for the fact that Shouto was already situated between them. Instead, you felt a pang between your legs. Your cunt undoubtedly ached for him, sticking to your panties with slick.
Shouto crawled backwards until he was low enough to reach your ankles and pried your shoes still clinging to your feet, dismissing them to the floor. Remaining where you were, you watched him nip at the skin of your legs, carving an upward trail. His painstakingly scrupulous journey began at your ankles, traveling to tenderly kiss your shin. He followed the path up until he eventually reached your soft thighs.
You shivered at every wet caress against your skin, noting the alternating temperatures of each kiss that kept you guessing. “Sho…” you sighed while fighting off the impulse to bite your lip—a habit of yours since your encounters with your ex.
“Mm,” he hummed in content at your quiet plea, continuing to nip at your thighs as he switched between them. Hooking his hands under your knees, he pulled your legs apart and your skirt rode up your hips to reveal the wet patch on your panties. At the sight, Shouto licked his lips.
The instinct to dive down and drag the flimsy fabric to the side so he could give himself free range to go to town on your cunt was more tempting than words could really describe. But where’s the fun in taking things too fast? Shouto was a patient man and he planned on dragging the night out just for you.
For the time being, he settled with planting a kiss on your clothed slit, sparing it short-lived attention. You were about to rock your hips against him, but he pulled away too soon and left you whimpering as you shuddered at the fleeting sensation of his mouth against your damp panties. Seeing the disappointment on your face, Shouto sent you a reassuring smile while rubbing gentle circles on your outer thighs.
“Wanna take my time tonight... So be good and let me hear you like you promised. Give me the pleasure of hearing all your moans and screams while you’re stuffed with me.”
Your eyes widened, flustered upon hearing his request, but you soon realized something.
Let me hear you.
You remembered those were the words that Shouto spoke to you on the night you first had sex together, and how at the time, you pushed them away and did nothing but made your voice even quieter. But after today, you were determined to make amends with yourself and make up for all those times you relinquished him the full satisfaction of hearing his partner.
With all that said, you nodded fervently in reply. Making out the hardened resolve hidden in your eyes, he got to work at returning your enthusiasm, finding the zipper of your skirt and removing your clothing off your person.
Throughout his show of undressing you, he made sure to keep your mind occupied on his ministrations. His lips found home on any area they could touch while his hands sought to get more of your clothes off. He relished every needy whine he pulled from you throughout the process, worshipping your body until you surely developed a cavity from his honeyed praises. You noticed he was adamant about keeping your panties hugging your lower-half, only going as far as to remove your bra after your blouse floated off somewhere beside you.
Once that was done, you were left exposed before him. You were expecting Shouto to follow suit, but he suddenly stood from the bed and trailed over to his nightstand. He jerked the top drawer open and rummaged his hand inside. You sat up, staring at him with furrowed brows. He wasn’t going to pull out a condom was he? There was no need for one—you’d established that you’d been on birth control since the beginning of your relationship. Plus, nothing would please you more than to hug Shouto’s raw, hard cock in your welcoming walls.
“Aren’t you going to undress?”
He continued his short search in the drawer, not meeting your eyes yet as he replied, “Oh, I will. But I don’t think it’s really gonna matter.”
You cocked your head. “Why?”
Your question was answered through Shouto completing his search as he pulled something out for you to see.
“Because I want you to wear this tonight.”
Your eyes locked onto a strip of lace fabric dangling between his fingers, an elaborate design sown on the material similar to a pattern you’d find on a set of lingerie.
“You want me to wear a blindfold?” You voiced the situation as you saw it.
He grinned at your obvious bemusement. “I read somewhere that shutting down one of your senses helps to amplify the others,” he went on to explain, pinching the black satin straps on each end to flatten out the material, “and of course, it adds an extra element of surprise, don’t you think?”
As he approached the bedside, you glanced back and forth at him and the blindfold, acknowledging that he was making a daring effort at spicing things up tonight. It was likely part of his ploy to wrestle your noises out.
There was silence where you should’ve responded. Shouto knelt on the edge of the bed. “Well baby, are you up for using this? It’s fine if you aren’t.”
“No, no, I’ll put it on. It seems like a fun idea,” you said earnestly. You weren’t letting a measly blindfold impede you tonight. That aside, you also held truth in your words. The prospect of obstructing your precious vision while Shouto had his way with you was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
Right before he lifted the blindfold toward you, Shouto stopped himself. “But first, what’s the safeword?” he diligently reminded you.
“Nea... Neapolitan.”
A smile graced his lips, rewarding your answer with a kiss on your temple. “Good girl.” He then prompted you to turn around so he could tie the lace material over your eyes.
In an instant, you saw nothing but darkness as pitch black consumed your vision. Your other senses began to fill in the emptiness left by your lack of sight, the sounds surrounding you amplified from even the quietest of rustles. Goosebumps ghosted your arms at the soft sheets suddenly embracing your back while Shouto’s rough hands situated you to lay your head against the pillow.
Your arousal heightened at every detail your enhanced senses could pick apart in the darkness. Just hearing the light shuffling of Shouto’s clothes being tossed off his built body while in the void made it unbearable for you to stay still. Your imagination kicked into gear to fill in the murky gaps, forming the image of his toned, contoured body that you’ve been so acquainted with. You could hear your heartbeat quicken at the thought.
You hadn’t realized that your hand started acting on its own accord, embarking up a route toward your breasts with a goal of relieving your deprivation. But Shouto didn’t grant you any gratification through self-pleasure. Grabbing your wrist, he cut your path short.
“No touching. That’s my job tonight.” His voice husked, the domineering edge making you pliant on command. You gulped and obediently withdrew your hand.
It wasn’t long until he fixed himself above you, the mattress dipping with the weight of his arms close to your body. Even with your sight stolen, you could register Shouto near your face, taking his time admiring your form beneath him. His icy breath ghosted your trembling lips.
“If you get uncomfortable, just say the word and I’ll stop right away. But until then, don’t expect me to go easy on you, love.” He offered a warning before diving into the heat of action.
A whimper escaped you amidst Shouto blazing his lips in an icy-hot trail down your jawline and your neck. You swore that a path of steam must have floated off your skin at the chilled nibbles that quickly fused into a searing sensation. The sudden transition from cold to hot left you squirming under him. You tilted your head into the pillow, panting out broken breaths. As a result, Shouto gave extra attention to the area, mapping the expanse of your neck.
“Focus on me. It’s just you and me tonight,” he commanded, glancing up to watch you at odds with yourself and these simulations. Then a solid gasp tore from your lungs as he sunk his teeth in your neck without warning, applying enough pressure to break skin and undoubtedly embed a mark. You focused on the sharp pain puncturing you before it steadily dispersed, your head digging into the pillow as your mouth parted with a squeal.
Shouto brushed his fingers around the spot he bit, admiring the hickey that was now embellished there. “You can’t see it, but this mark looks so pretty on you, sweetheart,” he said without a hint of dishonestly shrouded in his words. “I hope you don’t mind if I give you another one…”
“Ah–!” You couldn’t even voice your fondness for the idea as the icy-hot man went ahead and dug his teeth in the crook of your neck again, making your mouth only good for wailing sounds of pleasure. Your arms weaved around him, a hand in his hair to secure yourself while blinded.
“Hm, that was a good one…” Shouto murmured, focusing on your sounds. “But I’m sure you got more than just that.” Learning about what your ex had the gall to say to you had made him determined to rectify that idiot’s mistake and snatch your noises all for himself.
He proceeded planting open-mouth kisses toward the valley of your breasts, landing on a curve of soft flesh.
“When this is over, I’m gonna make all your exes nothing but a bad dream,” he muttered with your tits in his face, silky strands of dual-colored locks fanned out and tickling your skin. Finding your chest quite comfortable to lay on, Shouto nuzzled himself between them. At one point, you thought he was simply going to remain there and bask in the atmosphere, however, that belief was quickly squashed with a hitched breath stuttering your lungs. His left hand engulfed one of your breasts, kneading the tender mound with a heated palm.
“Make them wish they were here and regret every lie they ever said to you.” He continued musing sweet promises to your ears, but your mind was locked onto him teasing your breast. His thumb and index finger tantalized the hot pebble between them—twisting, rolling, and even pulling with a delicious amount of pressure that made your teeth grind together and for you to grip more of his red and white hair.
The thought of leaving your other tit unattended while its twin was receiving all the attention left his palate bitter. Maybe he could wash it off with a taste…
His tongue ran along the arc of your other mound in a circular motion, slowly moving toward the erect nub in the center that grew increasingly sensitive the closer he got. The tip of that mischievous tongue had dropped in temperature upon reaching the outer ring and languidly traced your areola. Your fingers that were woven in his hair tightened, dragging at his scalp. His ministrations had earned him an raspy moan as he flattened the appendage wholly against the exposed nipple, gliding over it with coolness clinging to the muscle that evoked a long whine past your lips.
Your body curved off the bed and delivered more of your flesh in his mouth. At your generosity, he sucked away, ravishing the stiff bud while staying consistent with his work on the opposite one, pinching harder with his tepid digits.
His pace was hungry and erratic, manipulating the hot and cold that struck your body like unrelenting waves against rocky shores. The sensations were becoming unbearable, especially with the blindfold amplifying every simulation that attacked you. Your senses were climbing at their peak and as a result, you foresaw a flame kindling in your belly.
“Wait—fuck—Sho, if you keep playing with my– I might– Shit!” Broken curses spilled off your tongue, coming to terms that it was futile to stop your orgasm from sneaking up on you. An explosion of nerves were crackling under your skin. Your mouth hung open to let loose a drawn-out cry that was loud enough to ring in Shouto’s ears, much to his delight—one of the first he had the privilege of hearing thus far. That beautiful sound alone told him exactly what happened. He sat up, a peculiar look in his eye.
“Did you just orgasm from me playing with your nipples?”
You laid still, your lips pursed in a line. Your mortification was written on your face—readable even with that band of lace hiding your expressive eyes. Realizing your answer, Shouto’s lips curled, pride swelling in his chest. He was by your side before your self-consciousness could overwhelm you, with nothing to gauge his reaction in the darkness.
“Fuck, is that sexy. Your sounds are so so pretty. You’re just so full of surprises tonight, sweetheart. It’s almost like I’m the one that’s being blinded here.” He bent down to keep your mouth company while shaping your sensitive tits in his hands, massaging them affectionately to ease the tension knotted inside them.
You couldn’t help your curious nature from uttering a question between kisses. “Have you ever… made anyone else cum like that?”
He moved to favor your cheek, a finger edging beneath the waistband of your panties. “No, baby. You’re the first.”
Hearing that washed away both the jealousy and uncertainty churning inside you. You were aware that Shouto had also been with others prior to you, not at all surprised when he disclosed that information at the start of your relationship. And though your time together grew to be the longest of all your old flames, you couldn’t help but occasionally compare yourself to his former partners. Learning that there was one unique aspect you shared with Shouto made you happier than you could admit.
Your blithe musings were quickly torn by the sneaky set of fingers prodding further inside your panties. Gliding his lithe yet calloused digits through your slippery folds, Shouto gathered a glossy coat around his fingers. A strained whimper leaked off your tongue. Your throbbing pussy was finally given relief after screaming to be touched since the very start.
You could hear how obscenely wet you were, your inner thighs soaked with slick arousal that made you want to bury your face in the pillows and fold them over your ears. You were at least glad the blindfold offered some form of blissful ignorance.
“Shit. You absolutely ruined this pair, love. No point wearing them anymore.” He hooked onto the panties and pulled them off, the material wringing as it rolled past your legs. His heterochromatic eyes roved over the dampness saturated at the crotch, appraising how soiled your underwear had gotten through your contactless orgasm. “Maybe I should keep these as a souvenir.”
You couldn’t determine whether he was joking or not. Regardless, it was hard not to react to the lewd implications of his words. “Oh, you…” Despite his clean princely image, Todoroki Shouto could be so dirty when he wanted to be, always knowing just how to push your buttons to get you hot and bothered.
His middle and ring fingers ran along your inner labia, purposely circling your entrance. He was so close to where you needed him to touch you, but it seemed like he was beating around the bush.
A desperate plea eluded you. “Sho– Please…”
Amused, Shouto watched your lips quiver as you tried calling out to him. “You want me to do something, baby? Go on then, tell me.” He cooed encouragement that compelled you to reveal your desires.
“Touch my clit…” Listening to the words that departed you, your voice evaporated into a whisper. Your dripping cunt was aching and closing around nothing as you throbbed with want. “Please, I… I need it.”
“You need it, huh?” he reiterated and you were quick to return that question with a frantic bob of your head. “If that’s the case then I’ll do more than just touch.”
Not a beat later did you feel something slippery join your engorged clit. You squirmed upon contact, discerning the skilled flicking motions to be his tongue on you again.
“Goddddd…” you drawled, the purposeful licks against you slowly making you come undone. Shouto reveled in you thrashing from the ecstasy coursing through your body. He relished every note of your wanton song as he toyed with the sensitive pearl in his mouth. At one point, he had caught you folding the sides of your pillow into your face, leaning your head into the cushion, and obstructing your noises from him. Of course, that wouldn’t fly with Shouto.
He paused his feasting to draw your hands away. You were confused as to why he stopped and where your hands were being led toward until you felt silky locks between your digits again.
“Your hands belong in my hair, got it? I don’t want them anywhere else.” His words vibrated on your clit, sending electric shocks of pleasure throughout your body as he expected you to pull on his scalp, especially when his fingers finally joined the fray. “You’re already wet enough for me to put two fingers in. Maybe three?” He tested the waters with two fingers inserted into your folds and you gasped at the immediate stretch upon entry. A chuckle reverberated from his lungs. He stuck to only two for now, tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves. He skillfully slipped his digit in and out of you, spreading your legs further apart whenever you tried to clamp them around his head, balling your hands in his strands.
“Fuck do I love this pussy… You’re so damn beautiful, fuck!” He couldn’t help but pour out praises when you were becoming such a hot mess for him, grinding your wet cunt on his tongue, and drowning in delirium that made your eyes on the verge of rolling back. Now with three of them inside you, his fingers opened you up, preparing you for his erection that was weeping, eager to be embraced by that pretty pussy of yours.
“Shit..! I-I can’t–!” you muttered between moans—a warning that your second orgasm was approaching quicker than the first. This time, Shouto had the mind to take the hint, smirking against your slit. To your astonishment, all sensations were suddenly ripped away from you, reducing you to feeling frustratingly empty and that knot in your belly to unwind altogether.
Pitch blackness still clung to your eyes as your upper body rose from the bed in retaliation. “Sho! What the fuck, I almost came!” Irritation laced your words, an exasperated look overtaking your features. You were sure he could make it out even with the damn blindfold covering half your face.
Expecting such a reaction, Shouto let out a quiet, dark laugh. You were coming out of your shell in more ways than one tonight. His hand snuck beneath your chin to yank you closer so you could hear every harrowing word off his tongue.
“Sorry to ruin your fun, but I want you on all fours. Right now.”
You could tell he had flipped a switch from his tone alone. Silently gulping down the thick lump in your throat, you turned around in place. You didn’t dare take the blindfold off just yet, maneuvering your body into position without question, no matter how awkwardly you were moving.
Ass poised in the air, hands and knees resting on the sheets, you had no idea how you appeared before his eyes. Judging by the breathy intake of air you heard behind you, you wanted to say he was satisfied.
Oh, was he satisfied alright. More than he could’ve ever asked for. “Ooo.. fuck me…” His palms laid flat on your ass, hands molding into your flesh and rubbing your plushness that spilled between his fingers. “A perfect ass, along with such a–” his thumbs ran toward your core, spreading your folds for him to see your drenched and twitching cunt, “perfect pussy.”
Your nails delved into the sheets, mouth gaping open when you felt something hard and veiny rut against your slit. You could manifest every ridge of his cock in your head, feeling it brush along your clit that was still sensitive from his tantalizations.
“Ah..!” A yelp fled your mouth, released by the sudden smack that stung your ass. That jolt of pain subsided underneath the caresses of his cold, right hand. Shouto rolled your flesh in his palm, gazing down with hooded eyes at your vulnerable form that urged for his cock to ruin you.
He licked his lips. “I’m gonna wreck you, sweetheart.”
“I-I– Mmph... ” Your words locked in your throat, overturned by the head of his cock slipping into your awaiting pussy. “Oh fuck...” you cursed at the stretch, your folds flowering slowly as you spread more of your legs to try and accommodate his size. You thought you would’ve been used to his girth by now, but to your amazement, Shouto’s cock deliciously sprawled you open time and time again.
“You’re so... so damn tight…” Biting his lip, the white and red haired hero suppressed the instinct to roughly thrust forward, but damn, were you making it hard. His head was dizzy with desire and need as his cock stuttered, sheathing itself between your warm, constricting walls.
At the same time, your entire body quivered in delight, feeling so full of him. Your skin dewed with sweat, anticipating the pounding that was about to come, to the point where you couldn’t bear the suspense anymore.
Luckily for you, Shouto somehow read your mind, moving his hips back and then forward to set the tempo. You drawled a sigh of relief, greedily sucking all of him in. You swore you were steadily getting drunk off his plunging cock, thoughts escaping you carelessly.
“Mmm, more…” you chanted.
“More?” Shouto quirked a brow, zoning in on your request.
“Yes, more. Harder. Faster. Please, I need everything you can give me.” You’ve never been this vocal in bed with him before, usually placing your trust in him to take care of you since your voice would only fail you in those situations. Yet this time, you were eager to play with fire, no matter how much you’d burn. “Thought you said you were gonna wreck me? Do it then.”
Threatening shadows glazed over his turquoise and gray eyes, your challenge awakening a fiend inside him.
Harder? Faster? Such an insatiable little thing. Shouto was going to give you all of that and more.
“You asked for this,” large, battle-hardened hands connected against skin, urging another enthusiastic squeal of yours to resonate in the air, “fucking slut.”
His unbridled vigor rocketed into motion, hips snapping forward and pistoning your sloppy cunt that obscenely clamped around him. Taken by surprise at his escalating speed and power, your body lunged forward. Your mouth hung wide in an ‘O’ shape, singing a lewd mantra of moans that grew louder with every strong thrust rippling through your body.
“Agh..! Mm.. fuckfuckfuck–!” Any noise that brimmed from your lips echoed across the spacious room, bouncing off the walls and pleasantly resounding back into Shouto’s ears. He rooted the euphony deep in his mind, planning to put it on repeat later for his own gratification.
Damn, what kind of a dumbass was your ex to say what you were spewing out of your mouth while being jackhammered by cock was anything but sexy. As far as he was concerned, no one was ever good enough for you to begin with.
“Everything about you is so fucking beautiful… Your body, your moans, this greedy little pussy… All mine.” His thoughts escaped him, echoing an unwavering statement. “No other man is gonna matter except me, you hear?”
His cock was stirring too much of your insides and turning your brain to mush for you to properly comprehend his words. Your upper body gradually sunk into the mattress, tongue lolling out of you as your eyes rolled back into your lids, cloaked beneath the lace. Your lack of response earned you a blaring slap against your asscheek. Blood spiked at your rear, splitting you from your fucked-out trance.
Moderate heat enveloped his left palm as he delivered one more impact against your ass to fully seize your attention. You shot up with a piercing yelp, the pulsating ache flashing a gleam of red in the corner of your surrounding darkness. Gripping the back of your head, Shouto mildly tugged your scalp.
“Keep screaming so I know whose whore you are. Don’t even think about stopping.” He breathed chills next to the shell of your ear. Your arms shook at the weight of his words, squishy inner walls clenching in shameless response around his length.
“Mm… Mm-hmm...” you forced a whimper.
Each considerate thought in your head shattered as quickly as it was formed thanks to the unrelenting thrusts snapping against your ass. You willed the next statement out as best as you could, pulling your slurs apart. “Yours… Only yours… I-I love you, Shoooo…”
Endearment consumed him and Shouto couldn’t stop his lips from brushing your cheek, darkened exterior mellowing in the light of your sincerity.  
“Oh baby, I just want to make you feel good… God, you especially make me feel so amazing. Your cunt keeps squeezing on my cock like it was made for me, what did I do to deserve you?”
His saccharine praises drowned in the waves of your sputtering as you uttered filth into the hot stuffy atmosphere, which was further met by the echoing of skin against skin and Shouto’s guttural snarls.
His hands were secured at your hips to leverage himself as he pounded into you vigorously. You clutched on the sheets for dear life with tears dampening the fabric wrapped around your shut eyes. The knot in your stomach that had loosened up when Shouto rejected you from your impending climax before this was tangling into a searing tight ribbon. “Sh-Shouto, please I wanna cum—please make me c-cum..!” you begged without a care, voice loud and clear.
Taking your request into consideration, he caressed his rough hands up your hips and waist. “Since you’re doing such a good job being vocal tonight, I think I should give you your reward–” His pace thundered into a merciless rhythm, heavy balls hitting the underside of your pussy as he rutted deeper and faster into your walls.
“Fuck, fuck, don’t stop!” you droned continuously, intoxicated by the blistering tension intensifying in your lower-half.
“Cum on my cock while I paint you sticky white. Scream my fucking name for me– Let me hear you.” Fingers embedded the skin of your hips, likely leaving bruises as he kept up the frenzied tempo of his thrusts, hitting that heavenly zone that made your back arch.
“There! There! Yes, yes, yes–!” Your chants inevitably died on your tongue, melting into incoherent stammers of approval until a deafening scream rippled from your tired lungs. The sound was unlike any you’ve unleashed before. After so much time containing yourself from fully embracing the feeling of sweet release and euphoria, you swore you were on the verge of blacking out from the intensity.
Lights flashed in the darkness consuming your vision, igniting like fireworks in every corner of your eyes while sparks bursted beneath your skin. Your limbs gave way for you to tumble onto the sheets, letting yourself be held up by Shouto who used you to achieve his own climax.
Witnessing such a beautiful, genuine sound from your parched lips while you gushed fervently around his cock, it didn’t take long for him to reach his peak. “C-Cumming!” He smacked his hips into you one last time to still himself, cock twitching within your pussy. Dumping his thick seed inside you, he filled your walls until there was no space left and his cream trickled out of your folds.
“So perfect, you’re so damn perfect, sweetheart. I love you so damn much.” Shouto used what energy he had left to muse nothing but affection for you, removing his softened length while soothing your body with tender touches. He admired your spent body beneath him that couldn’t summon an ounce of strength to even move. He took it upon himself to clean you up and take care of you, reaching for a towel to dry off the moisture clinging to your skin and finally relieve you of the blindfold to restore your sight.
Beams of light trickled your corneas, having to blink in numerous succession to adjust to the bright environment. Once your focus returned, you met Shouto’s grinning, handsome face, glad to be graced by it after what felt like an eternity. He swiped his thumbs below your eyes to rid you of the tears that had ended up streaking down your face. You held one of his hands that was attached to your cheek, turning over to kiss his palm.
As soon as you wiped yourselves down, he joined you on the bed, drawing you to his side so he could lovingly devour you with cuddles and pecks.
“That was…”
“Amazing?” he finished for you, running a warm hand up your arm and giving it a squeeze.
“Yeah, and more actually.” You giggled mirthfully, basking in the afterglow of sex as you nuzzled yourself in the crook of his neck.
Shouto petted the top of your head, but kept the conversation going. “You know, after all that’s happened today… From our talk at the cafe to the mind-blowing sex just now, I think it’s about time I gave you something.”
You glanced up at him with a curious quirk of your brow. “Hm? What ‘something’?”
“It’s something I’ve been meaning to hand over to you for a while now.” He rose from the bed, scooting off the sheets. “Close your eyes for me.”
“Heehee, you could always blindfold me again.” Your joke earned you a chuckle.
“Tempting, but I’ll leave that again for next time, love. Now if you would…”
You followed his request, lidding your eyes to fuel your evergrowing curiosity. You honed in on where Shouto’s steps took him, realizing he was still by the bedside, rummaging around the drawers. Then you heard a rattle of metal and him rustling back onto the mattress as he placed a cold, steely item in your hand.
You didn’t have to open your eyes to figure out what the object was by the jagged ridges rubbing against your palms. But your expression of astonishment didn’t diminish at the reveal either way.
“This is–”
“The key to my house.”
Those words could have only meant one thing.
You trailed from the key to Shouto’s face, silently asking if he was serious. A smile lifted his lips, hand wrapping around yours to curl your fingers into the key, making sure you registered the fact that yes, he was dead set on his offer to you.
“I want you to live with me, Y/n. This big place means nothing to me if I can’t share part of it with you,” he told you earnestly, a finger brushing your cheek to caress your jaw.
Shouto laid back on the expansive bed, but never tore his eyes away from you as he gazed at you expectantly. Through everything that had happened, you knew there was only ever one answer you could give him.
You dove for his lips, linking yourselves together while tightly gripping the golden key in your hand.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
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copyright 2021 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.
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th0tfairy · 2 months ago
awkward moments during sex with bhna boys? 😐
Every moment is an awkward moment w them 😓
weird shit they do during sex
Deku: somehow finds a way to incorporate all might into it which is already overkill since his whole room and underwear and socks are all might merch and now he’s even mumbling to himself to last longer “pLuS uLtRaAa” before he nuts like 😐
Shouto: everything is abt pissing his dad off. He’ll literally go out of his way to manually decline every incoming call from his dad instead of just putting his phone on silent. And he makes sure to read every message sent but reply to none. He’ll be balls deep inside of you and still be preoccupied with making sure his dad feels intentionally ignored. Literally feels like he’s right there 😐
Bakugo: his mom walked in on u guys having sex once and his initial reaction was to fling your bra at her 😐
Kirishima: drinks a pre workout shake before sex and makes ur lovemaking feel like an exercise. Like he alternates his strokes into reps, u can hear him counting under his breath 😐
Kaminari: shocks u. He’s already staticky but when he’s honey he gets charged all the way up. Every time your skin slaps, it delivers a little shock w it. Your hair is always a mess after 😐
Sero: once activated his quirk and ended up taping your bodies together but he was so invested into his nut he didn’t even notice 😐
Shinsou: he’s weird abt ur pussy. Like he projects his adoration of cats on your vagina. If you don’t shave he reaches down to pet your pubic hair 😐
Hawks: he leaves crumbs everywhere. There’s wood skewers and empty sauce packets all over his apartment. Something was digging into your back while he was fucking u and it turned out to be the bone from a drum stick 😐
Dabi: burns everything. Burns your clothes off, burns his fingers into ur skin, burns ur headboard. Routinely sets off the smoke detector in ur house and tells the firefighters to fuck off when they arrive 😐
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shoyosnotebook · 2 months ago
Pairing: ProHero! Bakugo Katsuki x reader
Word Count: 340, just a drable!
A/N: This stemmed from me not having an ac and going though one of the hottest summers my area has seen in a while. You can’t blame a girl for wanting a pro hero to crawl into bed with her.
You sleep in Katsuki’s bed naked
Katsuki’s been working the night shift, moving agencies has been tough, the rookies always get the worst jobs… and he can’t decide if you make it better or worse. Changing jobs, getting comfortable in a relationship, none of it was easy, but sometimes the aches and pains in his shoulders and feet were relieved just by looking at you.
He’s not sure when you started to invite yourself over. With different schedules the only time you saw each other was when you were sharing his bed. Knowing you, you would probably say you slept better at this place. Of course you did, it was safer. 
The image of you like that follows him; its made a home in his head, with a frame and a little glowing light. It washes over him, lapping at his thoughts, distracting him. 
You're so vulnerable and subdued, waiting for him.
He’s also not sure what exactly your aversion to underwear is. Or maybe a sleep shirt? One of his? Yeah, it's hot, but there's only so much a man can take. 
You're on his bed, blankets kicked to the foot, his pillow moved from its spot, now inches from your arms; you probably fell asleep holding it. When he finds you like this he's torn. The urge to scoop you up, cradle your soft body, to enjoy every pliant and giving curve. Bury his face in your neck and breathe you in. To relish in the feeling of never being close enough. It makes him ache.
Sometimes you make it hard for him to think, chest so tight he can’t get enough air. And sometimes you're an oasis in a desert, the only green thing growing in his burnt heart. It was fucking terrifying leting you be that close, in his bed, in his apartment, in his head. But it was also the most obvious thing, the most real and natural thing.
You sleep in Katsuki’s bed naked, and all he wants to do is crawl in, just as naked as you.
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zukuist · a month ago
“don’t kiss me, my lips are chapped”
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INCLUDES: several characters.
FANDOM/S: 僕のヘロアカデミア. // boku no hero academia [bnha]
your name is shortened to y/n, gender neutral reader, chapped lips
ANYTHING TO BE CAUTIOUS OF?: chapped lips 😔 that is the warning.
SIDE NOTE: thank you all for 2,000 followers— like what the heck? that’s so many people 🤭😟 this is my thanks, basically (also let’s not talk about me disappearing for 30+ days 😭 ik it’s a lot but schools been busy 😾)
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“don’t kiss me, my lips are chapped.”
super, super confused.
i mean.. dude doesn’t have plump, juicy, soft and hydrated lips all the time (you can all blame his quirk for that) so, if he cared about your dehydrated lips, that’d be highly hypocritical of him; no kidding.
it was a tough one, trying to get to the kissing stage with lover boy, but once you guys overcame the worries he had, he couldn’t stop. not now, not ever. can’t go through his day without at least two kisses from you. if shōto could, he’d be kissing you 24/7. so, when you stopped him from pulling your lips onto his, he was confused; head tilted in confusion like a little puppy, lip carved into a frown and everything. the confusion only increased when the reason was because your lips were chapped, and also because you “didn’t want him to be kissing my cracked, desert lips.” newflash! he. doesn’t. care. probably will never care too. after the difficulties of getting to this stage, he’ll eliminate any reasonable obstacles.
“why does it matter? i don’t care about that stuff. just give me my kiss.”
it is advised to give what the man demands for
“izuku, you can’t kiss me right now”
kinda sad
he looks around to check for any valid reason for your rejection. he sees no bystanders. meaning, the both of you are in the clear. so, why would you reject his offer for a kiss?
“why?” he asks. izuku tries to conceal the sadness in his round, aspiring green eyes, and in his voice. he sounds like a kicked puppy, and he definitely looks like one too. that’s all swiped away when you tell him that your “lips are chapped.” big sigh of relief on his end. “oh,” that lifts some tension off his shoulders, if you didn’t want to kiss him for any other reason, he would’ve respected that, but.. your lips are just chapped. so, he can’t find himself from really caring. the issue has an easy fix to it (not that it desperately needed one). and either way, i can’t really say fully with my chest that his lips are moisturized every hour of the day.
grabbing a hold of your wrist, he pulls you in, “y/n, please?” he pleads with the best puppy dog eyes he has to offer
and it works, you give in; despite your worries. he doesn’t seem to be affected by your chapped lips though.
“i’m sorry ‘tsuki, but not now. not the best conditions to do so.”
but for real, when is he actually not annoyed? anyway, at first katsuki thought he was the problem. he’s sweaty at nature, so he should at least be understanding if you don’t want to be so close in distance with him. but, then you told him that he wasn’t the problem, and it’s your lips that’s the issue
so now he’s annoyed, but a little relieved to know that he’s not pressuring you to kiss him. thinks you’re being dramatic about these so called conditions. like, what is this? a contract agreement? “so what?” he clicks his tongue, looking around to see if there’s anyone to see (not that people are a problem anyway. he’s just knows the possibility of you being cautious.) so, he tries to assure you “it’s nothing i can’t handle. you’re making a big deal out of this.” the blond knows he’s unsuccessful at that, when he sees you averting your gaze; a nervous tick. he’s annoyed that you think that this is an issue for him, but he has his solutions. asks you to open your mouth, and when you do so, he coats his finger in your spit 😦 then proceeds to smear it all over your lips.
“there. all better. now give me what you fuckin’ owe.”
you told him that was a little disgusting, bashfully remarking that he could’ve just asked you to wet your lips, but he was going to kiss you anyway 🤷 he has a point.
“you can’t, and it’s for your own good ‘toshi.”
predicted it.
getting past the confusion, i think hitoshi would see this happening, and he’d be unintentionallu prepared for it. looks at people’s mouths a lot when he needs to use his quirk. except, his does that because it’s necessary and not because he wants to (like how he is with you.)
with that being said, he has probably seen a lot of chapped lips. though, he never comments on it, because his lips aren’t the smoothest things out there either. due to his lack of attention regarding lip care, you kindly decided to leave your chapstick in his posession (he ended up never returning it. the opportunity never came up.). hitoshi’s just so glad he kept it so closely though, because the situation was in his favor, when you rejected him of a kiss, all thanks to your chapped lips. he honestly would’ve laughed from the start, if this initial rejection didn’t make his heart drop down to his ass. hitoshi shrugs off the last percentages of his panic, lips tugging into a very recognizable grin, “‘s not a big deal. i’m no better, but i have the solution.” he says, whipping out your lipbalm from his pocket. popping off the cap
after (closely) applying the balm to your lips, he pulls you even closer. “there. all done. you’re gonna give me what is due, right?”
your heart practically swooned, and from that point on, chapped lips were never an issue.
“nope, nope. you’ll thank me later.”
would reassure you
honestly, all of them would reassure you, but eijirō does it the most, y’know? anyways, do insecurities even exist anymore, if you’re dating eijirō kirishima? 🤔
though he’d be a little sad at your rejection, he’d hide it behind a gentle smile. ever since his early teens, his irrational fear was always accidentally activating his quirk while he was giving the love of his life a kiss. so, eijirō has his own fair share of worries. which explains his ability in being very understanding, when you tell him that you didn’t want to give him a kiss, due to your cracked, dehydrated lips. he doesn’t see an issue with it, but eijirō wouldn’t disregard your worries at all. if anything, he’d reveal his own insecurities, which shows some relatability. “i’m no better!” he says with a smile that could stop hearts, “if yours are chapped, then what are exactly mine called?” your boyfriend makes you feel comfortable, by revealing his long time insecurities. he’d even tell you about a silly nightmare he has when he was 12, when he kissed his celebrity crush, and grew rocks for lips 🕴
his heart melts upon hearing laughter. though it would be quite embarrassing, if he shared this rather ridiculous nightmare to his peers, it’s all worth it, when you allow him to kiss you. “that’s more like it! there’s no need to feel worried. i also have chapped lips!”
you thank him for his understanding later, but he insists that it’s only second nature, as your boyfriend.
“denki, denki! i will literally break up, if you kiss me right now.”
lowkey highkey desperate
it sounds kind of bad, but it’s true anyway, denki’s always desperate to kiss you, no matter how down bad he sounds.
he does not, and will never want to break up with you. he raises his hands, showing he has no ill intent, and steps back “w-what’s this all about?” he pouts, hands sliding up and down your shoulders. though he’s kind of sad that you’ve said no to his kiss in that way, he’s more desperate to know the reason behind your reluctance and rejection. he’s relieved when you say the breaking up part was simply an exaggeration, but he’s left even more confused when you say it’s because of your chapped lips (because his lips aren’t the softest either) but you never seemed to care, so why should he? denki’s exaggerated reaction to that seemed to be enough to distract you of your worries, and he’s sincerely glad that he got you to laugh, but he’s really desperate. (he does not gaf)
he pulls you in, tickling you to distract you of your concerns. he’s smiling like a fool as he prepares for a kiss “will you please please please give me a kiss? i honestly do not care about your “desert-y” lips.”
you realize how truly desperate your boyfriend is for a kiss. so with that, you give into denki’s desires of one, laughter bubbling from your lips when he sighs in relief.
“mirio- please, can you- can you not do that?”
he finds it endearing, to be honest. mirio would still respect your wishes, if you didn’t want to kiss him (it’d be the absolute bare minimum anyway), but if it’s for that reason? he finds it cute.
“oh? why?” he says, sounding as sad as he could. but, his expression would immediately contradict himself. his amusement only grows when you stumble to gather, and justify your reasons. saying that your lips aren’t in the most “desirable” state, and that he’d “sincerely hate the feeling” as if it was possible to hate being around you in the first place. mirio laughs at these reasons, and the fact that you keep on pressing this on him, as if it were factual. you honestly think he’d just poking fun at you, for caring about this, and for even warning him about kissing you while your lips are chapped, but he’s not. he’s simply amused. he was at first, just teasing you, but now he’s just amused because of this revelation.
“i’m so lucky that you care about my well being so much,” he shows off that signature smile of his, “but, you being ‘undesirable’ is just not possible.”
though yes, he’s amused. but, he said that part so seriously ??? to the point that resisting him is just impossible.
“this- this is going to be hard to explain. but, you just can’t”
simply exhausted
doesn’t even need to ask why you said no, because he somewhat already knows why. is it his s/o hunch? yes.
like every other person in this post, he’d respect your wishes if you didn’t want one. that is, if your reason was valid, and “having chapped lips” just doesn’t sound valid to him, at all. “if you were going to scare me shitless for three seconds, at least make the reason valid” is what he thinks about the matter. (not that your insecurities aren’t valid but.. he sees no issue.) shouta’s stares at you, like he’s trying to say “really? is that all? is that why you’re trying to reject me of a kiss i’m officially entitled to?” and you recognise that look he’s giving you. shouta’s simply exhausted, but not at you, or your antics, but, because you’re literally rejecting him of the things that make him energised (also known as, your kisses.) on top of that, he’s a pro hero, thirty one, and also happens to be the unofficial dad of 22 kids. so, chapped lips are nothing on him. (plus, his lips aren’t always moisturised. so even if he wanted to say something, he couldn’t say he’s any better.)
“you know, that’s really not a concern of mine.” he says, running his hand through his jet black hair, “you don’t complain about my scruff. so, chapped lips? they’re really nothing, c’mon now.”
but, if you were really insecure about your chapped lips, he would do everything in his power (despite his fatigue) to reassure you. and, his nonchalance surely did the trick.
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zukuist 2021 ™️, bnha|mha ; 僕のヘロアカダミアン belongs to horikoshi kohei. do not repost and/or steal ❕
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prettyboykatsuki · 2 months ago
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the liminal space between love and lonely | m. izuku
➳ tags ;; PLEASE READ! 18+ slow-burn, strangers to lovers, fem!reader, plot with porn, explorations of themes like loneliness, minor character death (oc character!), critique of the hero system and of deku, a character study of izuku midoriya, reader is a college student but no age specified!, cooking scene solo!male masturbation, emotional sex, praise kink, fingering, oral (f!recieving), unprotected sex, mostly very vanilla, multiple orgasms, creampies,
➳ wc ;; 26.2k
➳ a/n ;; well folks. we did it. a week of non-stop yelling and screaming, emotionally damaging myself, feeling weird and fucked up and finally.. finally we're here. after all this goddamn time. credits to @/rat-zuki for the izu on the corner and my most honest to god thank you to the bubblepop server who has been only kind to me as i made this thing. especially @cyancherub, @katonshoko and @a-shy-blueberry for betaing this goddamn monster (sorry i make. This many spelling errors lol)
check out the extended authors note here!
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➳ synopsis: pro-hero deku rarely breaks from routine - the one he'd been keeping up with damn near four years. he's meticulous and lonely. he finds he doesn't really have time to feel things like love or lust or anything inbetween. he only meets you circumstance and he finds himself unprepared for the chaos you set off in his heart. what is love but an escape from the loneliness of life?
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He can hear the rain from inside.
He changes out of his costume in a little stall on the far east end of town. It’s empty. A single fluorescent light hangs over his head. An eerie clean on the inside, all black tiles on the floor and white doors. A white toilet with a manual flush on it. No toilet paper on the ground, astray. His bag hangs out in the corner as he shimmies out of his hero costume. It sticks and clings to his sweaty body, the thick kevlar material stitched together with steel.
His suit looks about as grimy as him. Sliding off of his torso is a task, he carefully peels himself out of it. His arms first, slowly over his abdomen and then a pause between to take off his belt and gloves. The rest gets tugged haphazardly over his thighs and ass and he steps out of it just before it hits the floor. He doesn’t take too much care to fold it, knowing it can handle the damage. He shoves it into the little duffel bag he has on him, then stacks the rest of his accessories over top. He zips it shut carefully - and stark naked, he takes a deep breath of stale bathroom air.
It hits his body first, the exhaustion. Right in his shoulders where he drops a little. Scratching the back of his neck, he sighs while no one is watching. His whole body droops as he unceremoniously relieves himself, the sound echoing especially loud in the tile bathroom with great acoustics
After that, he reaches into his bag for some babywipes. He keeps them on him to help him feel a little hygienic after long nights. The commute home is going to be long, two bus rides to his block. He uses one wipe to clean his dick off and another few to get the first layer of sweat off of his skin. He can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a leftover residue all over him. It’s better than nothing. The wipes get folded and rest on one of his bags and then he shuffles around in his backpack for clothes.
An all-white hoodie and some basketball shorts, the kind that hang to his knees with that mesh material. He changes into them immediately, soft fabric sliding over his body and making him shudder. The act of changing clothes doesn’t get enough credit for being an act of self-care, he thinks. The shorts come on next, slide just over his v-line, and hang at his hips loosely. There’s a cap and a mask at the very bottom, a white one and a black mask that he slips over the messy mop of green on his head. He snatches another wipe for his face, quick and easy, before sliding the black mask over his mouth and nose.
He makes sure everything is in order before he dips out of there. His duffel bag over one shoulder, his bookbag on his back - steady and secure. He rummages through his things and grabs a torn-up All-Might wallet, the one he’s had since 7th grade, before grabbing the used wet wipes and crumpling them in his hands.
With his freehand, he undoes the door. There’s not a single soul in here, not even a ghost. No leaky faucets or creaking doors to signal the fact that this place is alive. A big mirror stretches along one of the walls, all connected. He doesn’t give it more than one glance as he chucks the wipes in the trash and hurries outside.
When he gets there, it’s still raining. It’s an incredible, thundering rain now. It’s gonna soak him to the bone if he even steps foot in it, and he doesn’t have an umbrella. He could wait for it to pass, he thinks - staring out into the sea of night. Just a few streetlights and gusts of wind to keep him company, a flickering light at the station, and a vending machine between the male and female bathrooms. He’ll have to run through it anyways. To make it on the transport and get home so he can get some hours of well-needed rest, maybe eat and watch a documentary.
He thinks about it for a little, mouth open and brows furrowed. If Deku goes now, he could stop by 7/11. It’s the one that’s always open no matter how late it gets.. and if he goes there maybe he could warm a bento and get a gel pack of electrolytes. He should visit his mom soon, if not for anything else, for a homemade meal. He misses his mom a lot but tries not to think about it.
He should probably just go for it, so he does. With everything clutched to his body, Izuku Midoriya runs towards the first bus-stop that he’ll have to take. One more bus when he makes it and then he’ll be home. It’s not a far run, but running in the rain is always hard. For some reason, it feels like drowning, which is weird - shouldn’t you only be able to drown if you’re in a big body of water? He runs and inhales several gusts of air and water and it feels like he’s in the ocean. He makes it in the nick of time, still catching his breath when he stops.
He ducks into the plastic shelter for people who are going to ride the bus - some advertisements stuck to the wall. He got soaked like predicted. In his head, he’s practicing the way he’s gonna bow his head to the driver. He waits a while. Everything around here is closed now, all dark and dreary. There’s a hue of blue that sets over the whole place, he thinks the streetlights here are colored like that on purpose.
He thinks it’s 10 minutes before the bus gets there. The doors make a loud whoosh sound as they pry open and Deku slips himself between the cracks of the door. He bows at the driver extra deep, an apology whispered from chapped lips that gets waved off. He sits himself in the back, on the edge - just out of instinct. If anything were to happen on the bus, he would be able to see any suspicious passenger. He’s always vigilant, like a 6th sense, sometimes he forgets he’s doing it until it hits him, randomly. All out of nowhere, leaving him to sit in. It’s uncomfortable.
He decides to put on some music, just one headphone. His airpods are deep in his bag and he has to fish for them. He has a playlist that he defaults too, softer lofi sounds and some random acoustic - or whatever he feels like. He’ll listen to anything if he likes it enough.
Another habit, he takes account of everyone in the bus with him. He’s learned to do this everywhere he goes; it’s easier. If something happens - he’ll know what to tell the police and it gets done a lot faster. Late at night, there’s not many shady characters. A man in his late 50’s wearing a construction uniform, a drunk, brown-haired male college student, and a young woman with dyed hair who keeps staring at her ring finger. Other than all of them, it’s just the bus driver and Deku. He probably looks the most suspicious, with the hat and the mask on but he figures there isn’t anything for him to do about that.
The bus ride is smooth and quiet. Nothing happens. No signals to alert him to the threat of danger, just a shared sense of nothing-ness. When he gets closer to all the shopping centres, it’s a bit more lively. He listens to music and closes his eyes. It’s nice. There are so many more colors on every street and every sign, it’s a little easier to look at. He’s the first person to get dropped off among this crowd of people, and all of them watch as he idly passes.
When he leaves and steps off , the scent of petrichor invades his lungs - a hard hit to his chest. He breathes in so much of it he stumbles. The rain is soft now, like a kiss, but it still feels he’s drowning when he inhales. Short pants between each long breath. It’s cold and his clothes cling to him a little. He has 45 minutes till the next bus gets here, and there’s a 7/11 around the corner. He’s never been to that one specifically, he just knows it’s there. Today is the first day he’s going to try to look inside. He needs some more electrolytes, a protein bar, and probably something hot. A cup ramen with an egg, or something else that he can get down in under 15 minutes.
The rain made it look misty and far but the walk to the 7/11 was less than ten minutes. When he comes in, still soaking wet - he finds that no one is at the counter. He thinks whoever is working is probably inside of the break room so he doesn’t bother. He thinks anyone working this late should probably avoid strange customers, even him, so he grabs a basket instead. A little water squishies in his shoes as he walks around, a trail of wet steps following behind him
The bright lights makes his head ache, so he finds himself squinting as he walks around the store. It doesn’t stop him from getting what he needs. He finds some protein bars in one aisle, next to all of the electrolyte gel packages. He throws several of them in his basket and keeps moving through, examining each thing with care and patience. He doesn’t need a lot of the things in there, but he buys them anyways. Some jelly candy, a packet of biscuit sweets, some other junk. He normally eats well, healthy - but it’s been a long day.
He gets other things. Some baby wipes for his bag since he’s running out, gauze and bandages, a small two pack of headache medicine over the counter. A silly dog trinket to put on his keys that he buys a little more shyly. He’s so engrossed in it, he doesn’t hear your quiet footsteps as you meander back to the counter. You were on your bathroom break and when you came back, a shady dude in a hoodie and mask came in. Alarmed, you watch for a while.
But given all the things in his basket, he seems harmless. A squishy shiba-inu charm isn’t exactly something a villain would own.
You get engrossed in your reading again as he gets to the food in the back part of the store. Some warm street food, warmed in a rotisserie, cup ramen and a station for hot water, disposable chopsticks and a few left-over pre-packaged bentos. He decides on ramen, some eggs, and protein bars. When he gets home he’ll eat a proper meal, or at least try - but his stomach has been rumbling since he left the bathroom.
After 5 minutes of debating, he comes up to the counter - startled by your presence. You don’t stick out to him and he doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. He blinks down at you as you tuck your book away, a paper napkin being used to keep track. It goes somewhere under the counter as you yawn before greeting him.
“Welcome to 7/11. Did you find everything okay today?”
He goes blank for a second before registering what you’ve said.
“Oh, uhm - yes,” he replies awkwardly, putting his basket on the counter and slowly taking his things out.
You don’t look up as you start scanning his items one by one, punching something into the screen as you do. You talk on autopilot.
“Long night?” you ask, mindlessly. He gives you another surprised look before breaking out into a mostly genuine laugh.
“That obvious?”
His banter catches you off-guard. Before you know it, you’re cracking a smile at him. A little laugh leaves your mouth, heavy with the evening. Raspy from exhaustion, he imagines. You give him a once over, as if you’re thinking about it before nodding.
“A little, yeah.”
The pleasantry makes your mood lighter as you scan and bag his items. With rapport built, he feels comfortable asking.
“..Is it just you working tonight?”
Caught off guard, you lift your eyes to look at him. A little ribbon of fear pulls through you before relaxing. You nod a little.
“Yeah.. just me. I work the night-shift,”
He blinks at you like you’ve said something ridiculous. In a way you have, you know you have. It’s a little unheard for a woman your age to be working alone, late at night, in the middle of the city. It irritates him that your boss, whoever they are, would let you. The hero in him wants to ask if you have any weapons you know how to use, and if you know all the exists exits and how to signal for the police.
Nothing really comes out of his mouth, brow furrowed. Noticing his concern, you decide to give him a little more info.
“I live around the corner, maybe two blocks from here. The hours aren’t great but it works for my schedule. It’s a safe area. I’m pretty vigilant, so -,”
“Still.. a civilian should already be cautious but especially a woman your age -”
You pause, and so does he. A soft pink flush dusts his cheekbones. You blink.
“Civilian… are you a hero? That would explain why you're here so late,” ― you say aloud, ringing up the last of his belongings. You give him a good look, green hair peering out of cap and green eyes bright and blinking ― “...Pro-Hero Deku right?,”
Despite the fact he’s been a pro-hero for almost 4 years, he still isn’t sure how to handle being recognized. His face is plastered over the country yet he still finds the whole thing uncomfortable. Not knowing how to reply, he just nods.
“Y-yeah.. that’s me,”
Your eyes go wide for a moment, a little shock hitting you before giving him a smile.
“ Nice to meet you,”
After bracing himself for a slew of questions, his check back into reality feels weird. You tap at the screen a few times before going back to normal.
“That’ll be 2,950 yen” you tell him plainly. He’s stuck for a minute but manages to grope around from his wallet. He slides his card on the little machine, punching his pin in and hearing a little ding sound. Transaction complete rings on the machine and you print the receipt, tucking into one of the bags before pushing it lightly towards him.
He can’t describe it, the sudden need to stay here for a while, instead of rushing home like he’d planned. Maybe it’s because the hero in him couldn’t just leave, knowing you’d be alone this late at night. Maybe it’s something else. He doesn’t want to think about it.
“Can I eat this here?” comes out as a messy rush, hastily pulling out the ramen. You blink at him before smiling a little. He has a charm to him, a little awkward, that makes you laugh. Makes you feel better. It’s not so bad.
“Sure,” ― you tell him, leaning over the counter ― “Want me to keep you company?”
“So you’re a student here?”
Deku is less than halfway into his ramen, blowing on the hot noodles between each question before carefully sliding them into his mouth. You laugh a little, nodding your head with your chin resting on your palms.
“Yeah. I’m in what’s supposed to be my last year, but I don’t think I’ll graduate until next year,” you explain. You worry it’s too much information, you doubt a hero like him is all that interested.
But he looks engrossed in your conversation, even though one of his cheeks is swollen with hot ramen.
“I don’t really know anything about college,” he admits to you sheepishly.
“Oh yeah.. not a lot of pros go into college right?,”
He shakes his head, swallowing a bite and taking a breath.
“Not really. There’s some Hero Colleges and programs but most of us just join another agency as sidekicks or try to open our own,” ― he explains to you, raking his thoughts on who he can think of that went to one ― “I don’t think anyone from U.A’s graduating classes has gone to one. Some people at Shiketsu High, but not U.A,”
You give him a half-way smirk.
“I don’t see why a school of elites would need to go to a hero college either, yknow”
He chokes on his ramen, giving you a soft pout as you giggle. He wipes his mouth with a napkin, shaking his head as if to dispel any of the thoughts.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he insists. You smile at how genuine he’s being.
“I know, but isn’t it true? A school of such prestigious heroes.. I figure most of you went pro right away,”
“Me, Kacch- Dynamight, and Shouto opened our agencies as soon as we were 18. Most of our classmates went into being sidekicks but they almost all have their own agencies,”
“It’s cool that you have your own agency. I see you in the news all the time,” you tell him, comfortable complimenting him. His whole face always stops before it hits, a little blush delicate on his face.
It’s charming about him, you think. You have to admit, even you feel starstruck. A chance encounter with Pro-Hero Deku is nothing to sneeze at. Somehow, you think interviews don’t do him enough justice. In person, he’s much more charming. He’s awkward but he banters well and he’s handsome. He listens, too. Polite and respectable, you understand why he won Japan's Sweetheart last year.
“Ah.. thank you. It’s a dream come true for me, so I have to do my best,”
You give him a little smile.
“My little cousin loves you, so I’d say you’re doing pretty good,”
His eyes go wide, big and green and full of life.
“Really really. I was pretty starstruck when I realized and I’m not that big into hero stuff. I learn second hand from him,”
He gives you a laugh this time, loud and bright.
“Starstruck? Really? I’m surprised… you didn’t seem fazed at all,”
You shrug.
“I’m good at hiding my reactions. Working this late, it’s part of the gig,”
He gives you a deep laugh at that, straight from his chest. It sends a little chill up your spine.
“I bet..probably see a lot of.. interesting people here, huh?”
“Yeah, sometimes. Mostly just me though, gets kinda lonely,”
You don’t mean for the words to come off so heavy when you say them. You’re going to make a joke but you stop, stagnant - his green eyes are unusually somber. The most you’ve seen them the entire night.
“Yeah..” ― he replies back, voice distant and eyes far off― “I get what you mean,”
It’s hard to explain the feeling. It’s not like anything else you’ve ever felt. Maybe it’s just the adrenaline of good company, or the absence of light that has you feeling like this. It’s odd, all of it. You take an inhale and it’s quiet, and you think for a while.
“It was nice,” ― you say first, breaking the silence ― “Having company, I mean. It was nice to have someone here. My shifts are always super boring,”
He lifts his head to look at you. He’s probably just tired, just sleepy. The plausible reason for all that can only be his exhaustion. He’s compelled anyway. With a little laugh, he throws his things away and packs up his other belongings.
“It was, wasn’t it?,”
You’re the only person he’s spoken to in weeks. Just this small talk, so far removed from everything in his life.
“I’m here at the same time, everyday so,” ― you feel shy saying it, flush reaching your neck ― “If you’re ever in the area.. wanna kill some time. It’d be nice to see you again. I’m sure you’re super busy so no -”
“I’ll be back soon,” he says with finality, a little breathy at the end of your sentence. He smiles at you and you smile at him. It’s dizzying
You laugh back, and your shoulders relax. A grin makes itself permanent, cheeks aching.
“I’ll look forward to it, Mr. Deku,”
It’s his turn to look shy.
“Ah.. Midoriya. You can just call me Midoriya,”
“I’ll look forward to it... Midoriya,”
He gives you one last goodbye, watching as you wave from the window towards him. He can’t help but laugh. When he turns around, he checks the time and his eyes go wide. An exasperated chuckle leaves his mouth. The bus he was supposed to take left more than an hour ago but the next one is close by. He’s still kind of wet from the rain, and his shoes are soaked.
But he feels full, and not at all uncomfortable . When he walks to the station, he has a permeating warmth in him. He catches the next bus with all of his things intact and makes it home in around fifteen minutes. The suns just about to rise when he stumbles into his empty apartment.
Normally, he’d feel like he’s dragging his feet. But when he gets home, he has all this energy he’s not sure what to do with. He showers first, hot water washing off the grime of the day, and when he gets out he changes into new clothes.
But when he gets out, he finds he’s not hungry. He doesn’t really want anything other than to sleep and for it to be tomorrow again. He goes home and thinks of you the whole day. He doesn’t remember the last time he slept so easily until his head hits the pillow.
Deku’s daily routine for the last two years has been very consistent.
It took some time for him to get it all in order, a lot of planning and replanning. He’s the head of his own agency - in the first place, he feels like he’s always on the clock. The biggest of the big three, All Might's successor, he has a lot of responsibility. When people need advice about running an agency, he’s normally the first person they’d ask. These days some of the responsibility gets passed onto Kacchan and Todoroki, but Deku has always been the friendly one, the helpful one.
He really doesn’t have it in him to say no, so when Kirishima calls him at odd hours with his most sincere “Midoriya!” it’s hard for him to ignore. A routine is less of want and more of necessity. To keep his sanity intact, he has to know exactly when and how something is going to happen. He’s more disorganized than Kacchan, and more lenient than Todoroki. And it took a long time - almost two years - to get a good schedule that he could follow every single day without getting too exhausted or overworked.
Everythings worked out, down to the most devilish detail. During the weekday, he patrols the night shift about 5 days a week. He wakes up around 12pm after going to sleep at around 6am each night. On Mondays and Fridays, he does cardio first thing in the morning and the rest of the week is weight-training. Half a gallon of water before and after each workout. He eats for the first time at 2pm and logs his macros, almost 200g of protein a day. More water and then he showers at 3pm. He’s always in the shower for 27 minutes exactly and out of the bathroom at 3:30.
After his shower, he meanders around his house and takes care of little tasks before he leaves the house in another hour. He dries his hair and puts product in it, puts on lotion and deodorant, waters whatever plant he manages to keep alive. It’s nice, the domesticity. In that time, he normally checks up on chats and replies to old friends. Always shallow, little conversations when he has the time. He calls his mom and she gives him a lecture about taking care of himself.
It’s all routine, and at 4:30 he gets dressed. The commute to his agency is about an hour, most of it just waiting for the next bus and on a good day - he makes it around 5:30, half-an hour before he’s supposed to be there. Most days though he’s lucky to be in around 5:45. When he steps foot in the agency, he’s normally swarmed immediately.
His assistant fills him on what paperwork needs approval and what’s going on in the day, within the week. What meetings, what dates, what information needs to be sent to the data analysts on the bottom floor. He’s in the office for about two hours doing housekeeping, and delegating tasks to the rest of his team. He normally eats again, right before patrols. At 8, he knows it’s time to change into his costume.
He patrols from 8:30pm to 3am, sometimes later if there’s more crime than usual. He’s the last person at the agency, and at 3am he picks up his stuff from the office. Sometimes he changes in there but most of the time - he’s rushing to get it completely closed down. He normally grabs his bags and walks to the little restroom station in the middle of nowhere.
He changes and takes two buses just like before. It’s better for the environment to commute, but he thinks maybe he should invest in a car, or a bike. The commute is much shorter at night than during the day, when there’s traffic. He’s normally home sometime around 5. He eats one big meal again and goes to sleep. He thinks he should eat a little less at night but patrols leave him starving. He showers before bed and does it all again the next day.
He has one day off a week, on Sundays he doesn’t work at all. He’s mostly unreachable except for the emergency phone he has. He disconnects other than the news on TV. He only really started taking a day off because of his mom, anyway. He spends it in the house, watching documentaries, or sleeping, or getting some more weight training in. He can deadlift a few tons by now.
His week is routine, and he keeps busy wherever he can. It’s hard to see friends when everyone is scheduled at different times, doing different things. Sometimes he gets lucky enough to see Todoroki or Kacchan during the week - and even if his childhood friend is hard pressed to admit it, it’s nice to see each other. Most Sundays, he visits his mom and hangs around her house. He thinks most people would find it weird, but it’s comforting. Laying on the couch and watching romance movies with her, passing her tissues when she cries.
He’s gotten good at laughing off her comments about when he’ll find someone. They’re lighthearted by nature, but he knows there’s an edge of truth to them. Deku doesn’t remember the last time he thought seriously about love, or the last time he changed his routine. Some things, he just doesn’t think about. He can’t, realy.
He’s had the same routine for almost 2 years and he doesn’t normally deviate from it.
But it’s been a few months, and everyday after work - Deku pushes back his plans to go home by about an hour. He catches the latest bus there and gets about an hour less of sleep than normal. It’s not enough to stop him. He doesn’t eat as much at night like he used to, not as hungry as before. He just goes home and sleeps. And lately on Sundays, he still visits his mom but he can’t wait for the weekdays to come again.
He’s been journaling since he was young, too, accustomed to jotting his day down. Just to keep track of heroic stuff. Important details. His habitual note-taking never really went away, notes of notorious villains and cases line his walls edge to edge. In his personal journal, he normally jots down whatever comes to mind. Nothing interesting. Nothing special, by nature. Deku doesn’t really have much going on.
These last few months though, each page has more than a few paragraphs. Sometimes the entries fill to the edge of the page. They’re long and detailed. Sometimes beautiful, maybe even poetic. These days, they’re filled with the words of a person. A someone. Not a classmate, or a new sidekick. Just someone, who works the nightshift of 7/11 and likes to sleep.
He’s started to keep his pen and paper in the bag instead of waiting to get home, words buzzing around in his head. He writes down the details of your conversation on the bus ride back, a playlist in his ears. On each page, there’s little bumps and blips from where the bus hits a pothole. It’s dated, and organized. You can see where little notes become full pages.
And it’s filled edge to edge with new facts about you. Next to words about what beautiful things he’d seen that day. The sun and how it rose, the dog walking on the street. It’s different for him, to sit down and think of beautiful things. He doesn’t remember the last time he found anything beautiful, at least not like this.
Deku learns these things about you, in order. He learns your name - your full name. The country you're from and where your parents are from. Where you go to school and what you major in. Your best friend's name. He learns what your tattoos mean, and how many piercings you have and which ones you want. Why you part your hair the way you do or why it’s styled the way it is, and what your favorite colors are. One week, he learns in detail your analysis of your favorite anime franchise. He learns what colors you like to paint your nails and why your manicures are always chipped.
Some details you don’t express to him, some he just catalogs. You always have your right hand over your left. Your smile is a little lopsided and you don’t rest your face often. You always look sleepy, even when you’re wide awake. You like to laugh and you like making stupid jokes. You like complimenting him. You don’t mind when he stutters in conversation. You like to eat those little jelly packets when you’re feeling antsy. Your physics class is exhausting because it’s the only book you study when you’re not reading a fiction book or manga.
You’re exhausted. You’re pretty to look at. When he looks at you, he thinks he should know more about you. He’s starting to feel something for you. It’s weird. He doesn’t mind your company. He wants to see you again.
He wants to see you again.
He wants to see you again.
He starts bringing face wash in his bag to look decent for you.
It works. Yesterday, when he saw you, you told him he looks refreshed. He did today again, but he knows you might not notice. Still, it felt like the right thing to do.
He ducks his head a little when he enters after his long shift. The bright lights are still blinding and it’s raining again - knee deep into storm season. He should buy an umbrella soon. When he walks in, he immediately looks at the counter. When he finds you're not there, he’s more disappointed than he should be. He gets over it fast, busying himself with grabbing his to-go choices of dinner. It’s quiet, just him and his thoughts. His back aches a little so he buys a little muscle relief pad to put on it when he gets home.
It was a busier day than normal. There was a shoot-out earlier, a couple miles from his agency. Him and Kacchan ended up taking care of it, and about a group of 7 villains were arrested at the scene. There’s three more on the loose. After everything, Uraraka came by to help take care of the aftermath but those villains were tough to fight. All long range fighters, not Deku’s speciality even with blackwhip. A small criminal organization trying to gain some notoriety in the public, Deku’s been watching their case for months now.
Nothing they can’t handle but exhausting all the same. His body is sore all over, covered in bruises. He got patched up in the agency, in the medical unit but he can’t help but feel tired.
Still, he ended up coming here. He decides to eat a bento today, instead of ramen.
When you wander back behind the counter, you smile. You watch him mutter to himself for a minute or two before calling out for him.
“Look what the cat dragged in,”
His whole body gets warm when you talk. He stands up and turns around, a grin on his cheeks. Sheepishly, he walks over to you with a basket on hand. He walks over to the counter and places the little basket on top of it. You go to scan his things with your usual autopilot on.
“Oh! A bento today?,”
He smiles and laughs, resting his forearms on the counter. Your eyes are drawn to them. Instead of the usual hoodie, it’s a white v-neck that sticks to all the most muscular parts of his body. You shiver as you look and then look away. He yawns.
“Yeah.. felt like I should eat something more proper,”
You snort a laugh at that.
“For being a pro-hero, your diet is kinda shit, isn’t it?”
He blushes at you.
“What gave it away?”
“Ramen, I can forgive. But the protein bars and electrolyte packs are dead give-aways. You don’t cook..?”
He flusters a little bit more, shaking his head when he winces.
“Never picked it up, to be honest,”
You give him a smug smile before laughing as you ring up the last of his things.
“You’re such a mamas boy,” ― you tease, and he laughs and lets you ― “Lemme guess, you didn’t learn how to do a bunch of stuff until you moved out,”
He chuckles, paying for his items in between exchanges. He nods.
“When we moved into the dorms, Kacchan had to show me how to use the washer and dryer. I was also super clumsy about washing dishes. Too much soap, not enough time under the water. Little stuff like that,”
“And now…?”
He crinkles his nose and gives you a faux-pointed look.
“And now.. I use the dishwasher. I’m clean though, I swear,”
“Uh-huh. Sure,”
He rolls his eyes and the look sends your stomach fluttering. It’s a little more snarky, more comfortable. Your cheeks ache from smiling.
“What about you?”
You hand him some wooden chopsticks, putting his basket under the table as he settles into the seat closest to your counter next to the window. You give it a thought, as if deciding on what to say.
“My place is mostly spotless, other than my bedroom. My bedroom is a complete nightmare. Clothes and books and stuff everywhere. I can cook though, had to learn since college made me super broke,” you muse. He gives you a soft smile.
You pause, tugging your lower lip between your teeth.
“I could cook for you sometime,” ― you suggest, treading especially careful, heart in the back of your throat ― “Whatever gets you to stop eating out like this.. for the greater good, y’know,”
He stares at you, gaping. For a split second he thinks he’s gonna be sick, but before you can retract - he scrambles. Chewing and swallowing his rice with impatience, he lifts a hand and nods his hand.
“No, I’d - uhm, I’d love that. I miss.. eating home cooked meals, honestly. Maybe you could.. you could teach me something?”
Your turn to be surprised. Your eyes go wide before relaxing and grinning, dropping your head down.
“Yeah. I can teach you to make curry. It’s really easy, but if I’m gonna take time out of my precious schedule to teach you, you have to promise to be a good student. No half-assing,”
Everything is so relaxed. So pleasant. He laughs, so loudly and so openly it makes your heart race. That feeling in your gut triples in size and you think to yourself, only briefly, what the odds were of meeting someone like him.
“If there’s one thing I’m good at is trying my best,” ― he tells you confidently, a little smugness tied to the end of his words. It flushes you instantly ― “I’m a fast learner too. I’ll make you proud,”
You can’t stop smiling. You think if a car came through the other window, all of your attention would still be right at him. Something about him is homely, familiar. He’s so easy to talk to, you forget that you haven’t known him long. You forget all the work you have to do still, all your worries.
“You better,” you try to say with authority. The both of you fall into laughter and it goes quiet for a moment. It’s not uncomfortable, a soft thrumming heartbeat and two people and nothing else.
“By the way,” ― you lean forward, examining him a little more closely ― “what happened today that’s got you so beat up?”
He widens his eyes and shakes his head.
“Nothing to worry about,” he assures you. The response immediately makes you frown.
“I know I’m a civilian Mr. Deku, but c'mon,” you urge “You look tired and you bought those little muscle patches - what’s up?”
He strains his face, frowning. His brow furrows.
“Are you sure you wanna know?”
You roll your eyes a little.
“Yes I’m sure. I’m always sure. If I didn’t wanna know, I wouldn’t ask,”
He supposed he can’t argue with that. He thinks on it, for a moment like he doesn’t know what to say. Your face softens watching his back and forth.
“You don’t have to sugarcoat it,” ― you say cautiously ― “Just say what,s on your mind. Don’t think about it too hard,”
He gives you a quick run-down of the day. All of the information is public, in the news. He sprinkles in some details about who he fought but doesn’t go into detail. He watches as your face strings up in concern, smiling softly at you.
“You don’t have to worry about it,” ― he tells you, his best hero look on ― “I got patched up, just sore. In a days’ work,”
“Of course I’m gonna worry,” ― your mouth curls into a pout, sighing a little ― “I know it’s your job and everything. It’s just like.. I don’t know - I still worry. I care,”
He laughs, and smiles. He doesn’t like making people worry, but from you.. it doesn’t feel so bad.
“Are you okay?” ― you ask, as if trying to figure out what you can do ― “Mentally or physically. Are you… is everything okay? Do you need anything,”
His heart feels heavy, just a little. He doesn’t remember the last time someone asked him that. He doesn’t know how to reply to it, mouth going cotton dry. His chest feels tight and his eyes are itchy.
“I uhm.. I’m really okay. Sore, like I said. But today’s job wasn’t so bad. Nobody got hurt, and everyone got out safely. It went well, all things considered,” ― he pauses like he doesn’t know how to finish his sentence ― “I’m.. today it was okay. I’m okay. Tired though, I even showered at the agency,”
You’re still frowning. Maybe you’re pushing it, the boundaries between the two of you.
“When it doesn’t go okay,” ― you say through a bated breath ― “Even when it doesn’t go okay, you can tell me. I don’t mind,”
But it sounds a lot like a please, like an “I want to know when something bad happens” and it’s enough to choke him up a little. He simply nods.
You give him a tight smile, before sighing.
“You said you were sore right? Do you… I could uhm.. help you put on your muscle patches. So you can just go home and sleep,” ― you say awkwardly ― “Th-the break room doesn’t have c-cameras so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything. I just.. I think you should rest as soon as you get home,”
There’s that funny feeling again, deep in his gut. It curls all over him, a sticky feeling so syrupy, it burns. A pink hue brushes against the nape of neck, wrapping around his ears, dancing on his nose and freckled face. He’s really not used to it. Not a moment of it.
But without thinking, he nods. Something comes over him, and he says sure.
“Yeah.. uhm. If you want too.. sure. That’d be.. nice,”
When he finishes his food, he throws it away in a grey trash can with a round opening. You tell him he leaves his stuff behind the counter instead of where he sits, and he obliges without hesitation. He leaves it right next to your stool where your book sits. You put a little sign up - that the employee is on a break and will be with you shortly and gesture for him.
Carefully, you guide him through a narrow hallway into the breakroom. It’s a big and windowless room. Inside of it there’s some lockers along the walls and a little rack to keep jackets and bags - separating the place into two. A TV sits against one of the walls and then a bunch of poster boards. You have employee of the month, an awkward photo of you put up. He smiles at it and you flush.
“I’ve had it for 4 months now, so the pictures are kinda old,” you explain self-consciously. He chuckles. He can’t help but feel that’s so very typical of you.
There’s a table in the center of the room. You tell him to give you a minute as you go back behind the wall. While you do, he examines the rest of the room. A machine for clocking in and out, a sink and a trash can, some chairs and some random pins for putting on your employee lanyard. Some coloring books, some crayons and other random stuff.
You return with a wooden stool you think he’ll fit on.
You take the little bag out of his hand and place it on the counter. He’s taller than you so you have to reach up to guide him to the stool. He plops himself down on it and flushes.
“Where do you need them?,”
“Uhm.. a lot of them are on my back. Upper and lower, and a few on my shoulders. Wh-when I do it alone, I just stick them on and hope for the best,” he explains to you. You shake your head.
“I figured,” ― you brush something touching your skin out of your face ― “I can press around and then you can tell me where you need one. Does that sound okay?”
His whole body goes stiff.
“I used to do this for a friend in highschool. So.. don’t worry about it too much,” ― you explain, trying your best to swallow the abashed feeling ― “Y-you might wanna take your shirt off though,”
“Oh! U-uhm.. yeah. One sec,”
You step back and try to avert your gaze. He takes his hat and mask off first and pauses. After, he gives a shaky exhale as he grabs the bottom of his v-neck in his hands, scarred hands crossing as he tugs it over his torso, above his head, and eventually all the way off of his body. All of his clothes get dropped on the table next to him, and he runs a hair through curly green hairs. Just to push back most of it, away from his face. He sits there, straightening up his back and you see it for the first time.
You’ve heard all sorts of stories about Deku and his scars. Your younger cousin has told you about it, how cool they are. It’s rumored that he has over a hundred, all kinds of battles lingering on his body. You know he has a lot, and have known ever since you saw his hands. It’s more scar tissue than skin.
It’s.. so different up close. Mixed emotions well up inside of you, and your hands tremble when you reach out and touch it. A little jolt of electricity goes up his spine and he twitches, but you don’t move your hand. Like you can’t. Your eyes are making him nervous.
“I know it’s kind of.. ugly to look at,”
You shake your head, but you realize he can’t see. You place your whole hand on his back, the muscle between his spine and shoulder. A delicate thumb brushes on the skin. You can’t seem to pull back, can’t look away at all, even when you try. Your eyes are big and they feel unusually tearful.
“No.. I don’t think they’re ugly at all. I just wasn’t expecting so many scars,”
He laughs unsteadily. It’s so intimate. His heart is in his ears. His body feels somewhere far away.
“Yeah. I hear that a lot,” ― he replies, nervous, and playing with hands like he doesn’t know what else to do ― “It doesn’t bother you..?”
It’s the softest touch. So gentle, and so.. caring. He shakes a little as you run them up, on his shoulder. You squeeze it.
“Not at all.. I like them,”
His eyes widen. He turns to look at you over his shoulder and you don’t look disgusted. You look fascinated. You look at his scars, then briefly at him. Your eyes meet and he stares at you.
“You.. like them?”
You nod, and don’t break eye-contact.
“I like them,” ― you confirm with finality, like there’s not more to be said ― “They’re unique. I don’t know.. I don’t think they’re ugly,”
He feels it, when you say it. He knows it’s nothing to ride home about, but he can’t remember. When was the last time someone touched him like this? When was the last time he let someone.. look at him so close? He can’t remember. He isn't sure he cares but he can feel your hands.. all over his skin. He breathes out.
“Thank you.. for thinking that,”
You really don’t mean to touch him. You weren’t planning on it. But your hands move freely across his skin and before you can think. You pull back.
“Is this okay?” but there’s an addendum unspoken, is it okay if i touch you like this?
He nods a little, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah.. it’s okay,” but it sounds like yes, yes please
You reach out again, like a ghost on his body. Your hands are gentle at first, you press them against the muscles of his back. He takes a breath. You don’t feel like your voice is in its place. The words come out quiet, hushed.
“If I press somewhere and it hurts.. tell me and I’ll put a patch on,”
You don’t mean to touch him like this. Yet you can’t stop yourself either, your hands roam over the free parts of his skin, thumbs pressing down. You watch his body carefully, listening to his deep sighs or when he winces. He lets out a sharp inhale when you're closer to his lower back, so you stop and feel around. Your fingers knead the tense muscles and he lets out a soft sound, like a whimper. It’s halfway between pathetic and exhausting. Your core tightens a little.
“You’re so tense,” ― your voice is halfway above a whisper, electric ― “Relax a little,”
He wants to say he’s trying. He swears with everything he has he’s trying. But all he can think of is the pressure of your nimble hands, this skin on skin feeling - intimacy. The word feels like swallowing swords, so sharp and so deep. He can feel it in his chest, so suffocating. Overwhelming. He wants to relax but all he can think is how long it’s been.. to be touched. He hasn’t even had time to think about it. To wrap his head around something like that.
“Sorry,” comes out his mouth and you shake your head.
“It’s okay,” ― you press and he winces, then you pause and put one on ― “This is for you. I don’t want you to stress about it,”
It shocks him a little. It’s for him.. He feels feverish. He feels lightheaded and like he can’t breathe and your hands are hot they feel like steel rods. Molten against the skin of his back, you dance over every bump. He’s jagged from how often he’s been torn apart but you’re so unfazed. You touch every part, up his spine over his shoulders, down his arms.
It’s blistering to experience so much all at once. Like a flood, a natural disaster in the crevices of his heart. It’s overwhelming. The presence of your body, how the heat radiates. Your soft breaths, concentrated. The shuffle of your feet and the sounds of plastic being torn and placed. There’s nothing he can focus on other than you and how your hands are feeling his body. How small they are compared to his muscular form. How soft they are, scarless and warm. So inviting he can feel it stir in his stomach. He’s barely holding himself together, clenching his muscles so the blood stays in place.
“Is there anywhere I missed?”
No, not from what he can feel. His whole body has heat on the sorest parts of him.
“My shoulders.. the right one,” he rasps. You massage the muscle underneath until you hit his shoulders. His whole body is like stone, both stiff and muscular. You wince a little as you touch it, press on it. His whole body convulses at the feeling.
He breathes in.
“Y-yeah, there,”
His normal numbness is replaced with oversensitivity. Every movement, or gust of wind, or touch makes him feel like his stomach is binded in knots. You don’t stop until every muscle that’s sore is covered in a soft white bandage. He tries his best to adjust to it, but he never does. When you’re all done, you smooth another hand over his skin, patting his back. He urges his disappointment down. Tries his best to leave it behind. His gut sinks.
“I think I got everything,” ― you whisper, almost noiseless, as you step away from him ― “If there’s anything else I can do for you, Midoriya - just let me know,”
He slips his shirt over his body and gathers his things. He watches you as you throw the little packets away and rearrange his bag. There’s a lingering feeling all over him, each nerve bristled. More awake than they’ve been in years. When you turn back around, his heart races even faster than before. Your eyes are unchanging, half-moons and delicate. Little rings of exhaustion and heavy lashes. He wants to do something for you, but he can’t think of anything.
“Can I have your number?”
You stumble a little at the question. You press your lips together and nod.
“Yeah,” ― you look down at your feet, shuffling nervously ― “My phones by the counter,”
The tension is so thick, he can feel it web in his lungs. Every breath he breathes smells like you, sweet. His whole body feels like it pulsates, the blood rushing in his skin. His ears pound and his footsteps feel heavy and the idea he has to leave and just go home after this makes him antsy.
You guide him back through the narrow halls after he puts his mask and hat on. He takes his bag from behind the counter and exits to the other side. No one’s come by and it doesn’t look like anyone will. You immediately grab your phone, and your hands feel like they’re buzzing.
“I’m not free this Sunday. I promised my mom I would help her with her tomato beds” ― he scratches the back of his neck, staring at the counter before braving face to meet your eyes ― “But next Sunday, if you still wanna teach me how to.. uhm, cook,”
You survey his expression, corners of your lips upturned.
“.. Yeah. Give me your phone and I can give you a time that works for me,”
He reaches for it, unlocking with a quick swipe, pulling his mask down for face ID. He hands it to you carelessly and you give him a little side-eye laughing. A pro-hero like him should be more careful. He watches as you type some words, scrolling through a sea of emoji and making sure your contact is all set up. You hand it back to him and he tucks it in his pocket.
“Text me that you made it home safe Mr. Deku,”
He shakes his head, laughing.
“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be saying to you?”
You shrug.
“Maybe. But I said it first, so you gotta do it okay? Otherwise how will I know my dame made it home safe,”
He laughs then blushes at being called a dame, shaking his head. At how ridiculous you make him feel at ease. He nods his head.
“Of course. You too, be safe getting home,”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Midoriya,”
“See you tomorrow,”
He doesn’t remember the last time he’s been so high strung
After his bus ride home, he finds himself alone with his thoughts for the very first time in a long time. Normally, after seeing you, his body doses itself on whatever sleepy chemical and he falls asleep promptly. But today, no matter what he does, he can’t seem to fall asleep. One hundred jumping jacks, a warm shower and warm glass of milk, counting to almost one thousand. He’s been at it for what feels like hours, trying his very best to sleep.
But he can’t turn his thoughts off. They’re especially loud and they seep themselves into every crevice of his mind, no stone unturned. He just wants to sleep. He wants it desperately but every time he reaches for it, eyelids heavy, his desire pulls him right out.
Deku’s relationship to sex is.. complicated. The older he got, the less he got off. Not because he didn’t want to, or that he didn’t have any desires but mostly because he was so swamped he didn’t have it in him to do it. He was drained enough, and if he wanted stress relief or to get the hormones out of his system - a couple hours of powerlifting seemed to do the trick. He’s had plenty of offers for sexual favors but he doesn’t really have any strings attached. The last time he had anyone.. touch him was in highschool when he lost his virginity to Uravity in his third year.
Those feelings washed out and he was left an adult with no practical experience in sex or dating. He has his fair share of fantasies, stuff that goes in his bank of materials when he finds the time for it. But he works now, so much and so often, he can only really get a quick one in when he’s in the shower. In the same way you might scratch an itch, it’s quick and easy. Not fulfilling but it gets the job done and settles his want for intimacy.
He hasn’t thought about it really at all in almost a year. There’s always so much to do, no time to think about anything but hero work. In the prime of his career, it’s even less than an afterthought.
But now it’s almost 7am and Izuku Midoriya is tossing and turning in his bed with a desire so raw and so hungry it makes his whole body burn up. He feels guilty to make you the object of his desires. It’s already hard enough for him to admit to himself what this all means. He still hasn’t and he isn’t sure when it’ll happen.
But the sun is rising and birds are chirping, and Deku has one hand pulling his shirt over his abdomen and another tugging at his cock, hard and thick and heavy. He hasn’t touched himself in so long and this yearning feeling doesn’t do anything to settle it. He spits into his palm and drips it on before setting a pace. His own hand runs carefully up his torso as he remembers your touch. So intimate and so patient. He doesn’t remember a time in his life where anyones touched him like that. You’re the first to ever treat him so gently. Your hands are so small compared to his, compared to him. He towers over you.
He knows all the little expressions you make - happy, sad, excited. He can almost see it when he squeezes his eyes shut hard enough, what you’d look like with your hands wrapped around his cock. How’d you stroke it so patiently, how soft they’d feel - it makes him fuck into his fist. Like if he goes at it hard enough it’ll start to feel like you. He wants to be sated so he holds off on cumming so quickly. He lets himself get impossibly hard and tugs his cock, edges himself till the tip of its stark red.
All he can think of is you. If he got lucky, maybe he could touch you in return. The thought sends him reeling, how your body would feel locked between his palms, massaging your skin. He wants you so bad and he wants to cum, fuck he wants to cum more than he wants anything else. He wants to cum with you, or on you, or inside of you.
“Oh fuck,” ― something guttural leaves his chest as he fantasizes about you calling his name. Not Deku or Midoriya but Izuku ― “Fuck, fuck,”
Izuku, Izuku, Izuku - it’s all he thinks of. Bouncing you so pretty on his lap while you call for him. Touching you in the same way you touched him, burning all over your skin. He wants it so bad he’s drooling. His whole body tightens and he spasms and his fist goes sloppy. He cums so hard he thinks he might see light, and it shoots so thick - all the way up to his chest. It comes out in ropes, hits his chin and keeps spurting until there’s nothing left. His body shakes, little tremors in between each breath. His breath is ragged like he’s been running a marathon. He’s sticky and he has to get up to wash his hands and clean himself off - feeling just slightly ashamed at what just occurred. He’s sure when he wakes up he’ll feel the full force of his embarrassment, and the thought alone makes his heart almost fall out of his ass.
More than anything else though, in the cool fluorescent lights of his bathroom - he examines himself. He hasn’t done that in a long time either, examine his state of being.
The nature of loneliness is that it seeps into you slowly. So slowly you don’t feel it at first. You become so isolated that you forget what it’s like to be in the company of someone. Something happens, and you don’t feel it for a brief moment, and it’s like you can breathe all over again. Someone welcomes you to themselves and you want to stay. When they smile, you want to share in their joy and when hardship troubles you, they carry their burdens on your shoulders. You meet someone, someday, and it clicks that they understand you and you are reminded of how lonely you are and have always been.
It’s nearing 8am and Deku stares at himself in the mirror for the very first time in weeks. The sun peers in through the side windows, yellow golden light making shadows all over his body. He looks at his eyes, his hands, his scars - the muscle patches and he thinks of you. And how the dreadful feeling he’s been avoiding this whole time finds him again. He knows what it’s like to be knocked on your ass, but this feels worse. Heavier, somehow.
Everything he’d been avoiding till now falls into his lap with a sudden force. It’s gut-wrenching but not agonizing. The sort of stomachache you get from knowing instead of not. He wants to go back to right before this, when he didn’t have a word. When he was ignorant to his own needs that he’d been putting off.
Japan’s Sweetheart, All-Mights Successor, Number One Hero - Izuku Midoriya is lonely.
Next Sunday comes so quickly he almost misses it.
It was a busy week, more so than usual. The beginning of the fall season means an increase in organized crime and a decrease in violent crimes. It’s less strenuous physically but an uprise in gang-related or villain organization killings tends to put him under an unusual amount of stress. The whole he was in and out of the agency, tracking evidence with the police and generally working longer hours. Sleeping in and napping at this desk, his assistant putting a jacket on his shoulders as he plants himself face down on his desk.
It’s more of an issue since Deku is... meticulous. He likes to be through in a way a lot of his peers just aren’t and it means he’s double, triple checking every single thing before it goes out in the reports. Tracing and retracing steps - generally stewing over hero work even when he’s asleep. Twice that week he had to jump out of his shower, naked and covered in soap, to jot down some leftover thoughts. No stone unturned and not a single path untaken.
In between all of that, he spends most of his time texting you. Or the other way around, where you give Deku silly updates about your life and he checks them like it’s what's pumping air in his lungs. What you ate and where, your commute to campus, the cat you saw on the street and thought about bringing home. He thinks you’ve caught onto the fact he doesn’t like talking too much about his job. He doesn’t mind it, hearing about things like that. It’s nice that he can reach you. That he doesn’t have to think twice about it and can message you silly little things.
You wonder if it bothers him but he always replies so enthusiastically - prompts the conversation further so he can keep it going. He fills you in on the details of his life much more sparsely, always ends his texts with a sweet little emoji and a polite “thanks for asking ☺” that sends you reeling. He’s cute. It’s a weird way to describe him but that's how you feel. He texts you dawn till dusk, each night sending a short text about everything he did that day. You start to get accustomed to his morning messages and late night texts. It’s the same for him, that soft feeling when he sees your messages.
Sunday shows up on Deku’s door much more quickly than he’s ready for. It’s the first time you’re spending official time together, and he tosses and turns the night before all night. He spends it staring at the ceiling, heart in his stomach - covering his face with his hands and rolling around his sheets. He’s inconsolable until exhaustion takes him out.
He wakes early to work-out and shower - going through his full and most thorough routine. He scrubs his whole body spotless, washes his hair with his expensive co-wash conditioner, and comes out soaking wet. He does the whole nine-yards, a nice and clean lotion, deodorant, his curl cream that he spends a whole scrunching until all the moisture is soaked in. He examines his whole body in the mirror with too much scrutiny before exiting.
He eats breakfast and tries to calm himself down all morning but to no avail, there’s no way to get around the fact he’s incredibly nervous. And now, he’s staring at his closet with regret because of how.. sparse it is. He’s never taken time to purchase anything.. nice unless it’s for a hero gala. His closet is split evenly between formal wear and athleisure but nothing casual really.
He sighs a little as he digs through the back of his closet. He manages to find an old pair of jeans - a light-washed pair that he fits a little tightly over his figure. He probably shouldn’t dress too nice, he doesn’t wanna look like a try-hard. But he also wants you to know he cares about being presentable.
He ends up with a white v-neck and a grey windbreaker overtop, snatching a headband to secure his hair so it stays out of his face. He wears a different pair of shoes, grey to match his jacket. He feels like he looks stupid, really. He takes the jacket on and off, switches shirts, but keeps the jeans and always ends up with the same outfit. He decides he’s being stupid about it at the very end, and leaves.
It’d be a lie to say that Deku hadn’t thought about today at all.
He has thought about it. Just a little. When he packs up to leave his house for the day, he grabs his bag of groceries for curry-making, his facemask and a hat, his water bottle and his keys. Including a set of keys for a brand new car, specially purchased by his assistant after he very awkwardly asked him about cars and how to go about buying one.
Deku has no experience with car stuff, and it was too embarrassing to ask Kacchan. And his assistant wouldn’t ask any questions about why his boss, who’d been commuting for almost 4 years, decided to buy a car. He also wouldn’t question why he wanted one that made him seem.. put together. And why he didn’t put a limit on the spending.
If Deku is anything these days, it’s well off. A car is only a mild dent in his expenses but the only thing he spends money on is his mom and sometimes some hero merch that goes on sale. If he finds a surplus, he writes off some donations and calls it a day.
He has to admit, it’s a bit much. Maybe more than a bit and it’s been a while since he’s driven. He normally ends up being designated driver when he goes out with his friends, and one too many times - he’s dragged out drunk employees from bars when they’ve had a little too much during company dinners.
He leaves the house in something of a hurry. It’s cloudy above, all grey and dreary. Clouds stick to each other in big clumps as he walks into his garage. Over the years, it’s just been a collection of old knick-knacks and tools. It’s the first time he’s used it for its purpose.
He slides in the front seat and turns the ignition, listening to the revv. He does a little laugh at how truly ridiculous it is - the briefest moment of self-awareness passing by in a flash. He uses his phone to open his garage door and close it before backing out and heading down the road.
Your apartment complex is exactly two blocks from the convenience store, like you’d promise. He parks on the side of the road, punching in his time on the parking meter before grabbing his things from the front seat. He goes through everything, including a small welcoming gift from his mom in the form of some pickled radish.
He jogs to your complex and heads into the lobby - finding the machine and pressing the little button on the door. He leans forward, clearing his throat.
“Hey, I’m here,”
A beat passes before he hears your reply.
“I’ll let you up now,”
There’s a loud buzz and unlocking sound. Deku steps inside and is greeted with an elevator. Third floor, 4th door on the right. He repeats it to himself as he steps onto the elevator, a soft yellow light illuminating him as he feels his weight press down. He presses number three and waits - listening to elevator music for what feels like ages. It stops at the second floor and an old lady enters. He bows immediately, out of habit. She’s small and frail, carrying just one bag in her hands.
“Oh.. my. What a handsome young man,” ― she comments, give him a once over ― “You must be visiting on the third floor,”
His eyes go wide.
“Oh! Thank you and yes, I’m here to see a.. friend,” he trails off. She gives him a warm smile, laughing.
“A friend, is it? Well. Tell her I say hello. All that young lady does is go to work and go to school. It’s nice to see her.. friend visiting her,”
He blushes a little at the implication. His skin grows a little hot as she laughs again.
“Ah.. yes ma’am,”
By the time the conversation is over, the elevator doors open to the third floor. Apartment doors lined up stretch across the way, and he turns around to give the old lady another bow. She gives him a wave before the doors close again and with that she’s gone. He’s still a little flustered by the interaction so he gathers himself before finding your door. Fourth door down, he walks towards it.
He stares at the wood, painted a dark blue with a little decoration on it. Another lungful of air and with a shaking hand, he gives three meek knocks. He waits a moment, and hears some rustling on the other side and in another few, it swings open.
When he finds you in the doorway, he feels his lungs go short of air. It almost feels like something out of a movie. You’re wearing an apron and casual clothes - and he realizes this is the first time he’s ever seen all of you out of uniform. A cotton t-shirt and half-way nice sweatpants on your hips - you greet him a little out of breath. A sheen of sweat, your chest heaving, you still smile when you see him.
“Hey, sorry,” ― you wheeze, brushing something out of your eyes ― “Was trying to get my fitted sheet on before you came in. It didn’t agree with me,”
There is something about seeing you that makes Deku’s heart feel like it’s taking a seat at the dinner table. He really can’t describe it, doesn’t know how to word it poetically or pace it in a way that makes sense. He’s always been good at controlling himself. He’s seldom anything but idle. His feelings are absorptions, the world around him shapes the clay of his very nature. Without rhyme or reason or anything in between - he’s always thought to trust it. To let it happen. To let things happen to him, just so it doesn’t happen to anyone else.
His everything can be traced back to a sense of justice ingrained in him so deeply, there is no way to know himself without it. His feelings aren’t his, he knows this. He is simply an amalgam - the corkboard in which the hero world pins their travesties on. In his whole life, all the years he’s been alive, he’s known this much about himself. From the inside out and back again, he knows he is wholly a reflection. His sense of self is fragile at best.
Seeing you ignites in him the strangest feelings. His feelings - so uniquely his that he doesn’t even know how to feel them. How to navigate these emotions that fester in his heart, and how just your presence has this guiding hand. How his heart takes a seat at the dinner table, the kind of meal where there is only a single light and another person. In a moment so brief, he zones out and looks at you and there is this ache. A reminder that he is so real and so human it rubs him raw. He stares at you dazed and you smile, unknowingly, and chat to him about everything you like.
How strange is love but a reminder that you exist.
“I’m rambling aren’t I?” ― you shake your head a little, before stepping aside ― “Welcome to my humble abode! I bought some slippers this weekend that should fit you,”
He smiles at you, and it’s warm and inviting.
“Yeah.. thanks,”
He takes his shoes off and puts them on the rack before slipping his feet into the house slippers you’ve set out. They’re a bright green, covered in little frogs. He laughs a little at them, as you step beside him. He gives it a look around - the place looks just like you. It’s well-lived in, like a home and not just a place to live in. There’s random knick-knacks everywhere, a consistent color scheme, and other little decorations. A stack of books in one place, an open card-game.
“You might wanna take your jacket off,” ― you say amused, watching as he slides it over his shoulders ― “Today you’re my student,”
He laughs at that and takes his jacket off, where you let it rest on the arm of one couch. He picks up the bags you’d asked him for.
“My mom told me I should bring something so she packed up some pickled radish for you,” ― he says sheepishly, handing you the bag ― “She was excited to hear that I was spending my weekend with someone who isn’t her,”
You grab the bag and peer inside, a jar of pickled radishes - purple in hue, waiting for you. You look between it and him, smiling a little.
“You.. told your mom you were coming to see me?”
He realizes a moment too late what it sounds like. His green eyes go wide as he stutters over his next sentence.
“I tell my mom everything,”
You snort a laugh at him, grabbing the rest of his bags. He gives you a little pout, nose wrinkling in embarrassment.
“Well.. tell your mom I said thank you. Maybe take her some curry home and show off your new skills,” ― you tease, easy and effortless, but you’re staring at him a little longer than you need too ― “I appreciate it,”
He gives you a lopsided smile.
“C’mere, the kitchens this way. I’m gonna worry you’re not gonna fit,” you confess. He has to duck underneath, just a little bit - and he doesn’t have to do much to touch the ceiling. He fits just fine, much to your relief. He looks in your kitchen, quaint. There’s a window above the sink filled with fresh herbs in a nice little planter with a light above. A cat timer.
“How skilled are you at cooking, would you say? Like.. none at all? Or just not very much?”
He scratches the back of his neck, trying to remember the last time he made something.
“Uhm.. we made curry during a training camp in highschool, but I think that’s the last time,”
You give wide eyes before shaking your head.
“You’re hopeless.. but that’s why I’m here,”
He watches as you roll your sleeves up as if you’re getting into gear. He’s glad he wore short sleeves.
“Wash your hands first,” you tell him. He immediately steps the sink and washes his hands as he hears some clatter in the background. You’re looking through your oven. He watches as you grab a cutting board and a small knife.
“All clean?”
He nods. You smile at him.
“I got everything ready before you got here because I had.. a feeling you would be very clumsy. But I will whip you into shape,” you scold, stern. He blushes a little.
“Yes ma’am,”
You giggle a little bit. On the kitchen island is a bunch of ingredients lined up on the table.
“We’re gonna make Japanese curry - it’s a little sweeter and milder than Thai or Indian kinds. It’s a lot easier since the roux is premade. And it’ll last you some days in the fridge. Today we’ll make it with chicken since I assume you need protein,” ― you explain to him pointedly. When you look over at him, he looks so concentrated, you almost laugh ― “We’ll cut the vegetables first, and then the meat. After everything is prepped, we’ll work on the sauce and cook everything. Sound doable?”
“I’ll try my best,”
You frown at him.
“Come on Mr. Deku, where’s the confidence?”
He laughs aloud when you call him that, straightening up a little bit. He gives you a one hand salute and you fall out. It’s so warm.. so welcoming.
“We’re not gonna do anything really complicated because it’s your first time. I’ll cut an onion and then you’ll do the next one. If you do a good job.. I’ll give you a pack of electrolyte gels,” you grin.
“Wow.. what a prize. Sure wouldn’t wanna miss on that,”
“Exactly,” ― you take an onion and steady it on the cutting board ― “Now watch me okay? First you wanna cut it half and place the flat edge down on the board,”
He follows along, making mental notes in his head.
“Now you see this part? This is the root end. We’re gonna do a large dice, so make sure you don’t cut it off. We can cut off this paper bit at the end though.. then we’re just gonna go through the middle. See that?”
Another nod, he watches as the knife slices through the middle part. You don’t cut the ends.
“Now it’s in half, so you’re gonna cut in the middle of those. 3 cuts vertically, 3 horizontally. You got it?”
“I.. think so. It doesn’t look too bad so far,”
“Good. I’m gonna show you the speed I normally do this at but you can go slow. We have all day,”
Warmth spreads through his whole body at the words “We have all day,” so soothing to his heart. His stomach fills with butterflies, loud and desperate but he nods.
“Yeah.. right,”
You show him this time, the normal speed at which you cut through your vegetables. His eyes go wide at the speedy sound of the cutting board. He wants to tell you to be careful but he doesn’t think he has the right.
“Okay. I’m gonna put these in the bowl over here and now it’s your turn,”
You switch sides, carefully moving the first half of the onion into a small bowl before placing the next one. For a man.. a hero, so tall and powerful - he looks unusually nervous. He goes for the knife, but picks it up so unsafely, you gasp aloud.
“Woah there.. getting a little eager, are we?”
He puts the knife down like it’s evil and steps away, and you breathe a laugh through your nose.
“Here.. hold your hand out,”
He does and you carefully take the knife and place it in his palms. You use your hand to curl his fingers around him, then gently guide his hands. He stutters a little and grips the butt of the knife more tight than he needs.
“Look.. see. You have to handle it like this so you don’t cut yourself. Go slowly,”
“Oh.. that feels a lot better,”
You laugh again and he gets to cutting.
He goes slow.. very slow. It feels awkward at first but he gets through it. He manages to cut the first onion into all of it’s pieces with all of his fingers together. It takes at least 10 minutes, yes - but your cheerleading makes him feel good about it.
You hold your hand to high-five him when it’s all over and he laughs and high-fives you back. He’s so pretty when he laughs, all crinkled eyes and summery - you stumble when you hear him, flushing.
“Onto the next,”
You guide him through how to cut potatoes, then carrots. After your demonstrations on the cutting board, Deku takes at least double the time you do to cut each thing. But you cheer him on each time, floating around him and never leaving him too long to his own devices. You show him how to cut everything, even garlic (which he likes because he just has to smash at it to get it small) and eventually all the veggies are chopped.
You don’t have him touch the chicken, say it’s probably too much for the first time - but you demonstrate it. He takes note of every step, hearing words he’s never heard in his entire life. You have to let the fond build, the veggies sweat, and all sorts of other things. He learns you normally don’t measure, so every measurement out of your mouth is more a guess than anything. You promise to write down a recipe for him, anyways.
It starts smelling good after you add the onions - like his mothers kitchen. He hasn’t had a proper homemade meal in a week and his stomach growls with intensity. He watches as you build a sauce out of thin air. A curry roux cube, 4 cups of water, some sugar, some soy-sauce and ketchup. It fascinated him.. seemingly random things all coming together and making something so familiar. It looks good. He feels good that he helped even a little.
It’s taken a while, maybe 2 hours and some change, though he’s sure if he did it alone - it’d be even longer. For you, it’s probably the longest it’s ever taken, but if that’s the case, it doesn’t show on your face.
In the last leg of the curry making, you direct him to wear all the cutlery in your little apartment.
“There’s some beer in the fridge too, if you want. Other stuff too, but I thought a drink would be good for relaxing,”
“A beer would be great. Do you want one too?”
“Hm.. yeah, actually. That’d be awesome,, thank you Midoriya,”
He waves of your thank you and goes off to rummage your kitchen. He knows how to set a table at least. He grabs the beers first, placing them on coasters, before going to get the rest. Two plates and two spoons, and a bowl to keep some sides in. He sets everything up all nice, clearing the space out.
He hears the stove click off, getting out of your way as you put on some oven mitts. You take a deep breath as you lift, the savory smell filling the small kitchen.
“Woo, it’s hot,” ― you huff, setting it down on a mat on the counter ― “It’s still burbling so I’ll give it a second before I serve it,”
Next, you bring the white rice that's been sitting on the counter since before he got here, on warm for who knows how long. You pick it up out of the rice cooker and set it next to the curry, hurrying to get another bowl. You portion out some pickled radishes in the smaller bowl. and then spoon rice into the bigger one. You put one portion on Dekus and one on yours.
“Don’t be shy about getting more,”
You pour it out evenly, a stream of hot curry surrounding pristine white rice. It looks and smells good, unexpectedly. He’s so surprised it’s not a disaster, he laughs as he watches you do it. Piece of chicken thigh, potatoes, and onions float in the sauce and he can barely stop himself from eating.
“It’s been so long since I’ve had something someone else made,”
“Aw c’mon, you made this!”
He gives you a look and you laugh as you spoon yourself a portion.
“Okay.. we made it. But you helped! And you learned a lot, right?”
He chuckles, shaking his head.
“I definitely learned a lot but you’re the teacher,” ― he leans forward, palm on his cheek as he stares at you. Straight out of a daydream, painfully handsome ― “How’d I do teach?”
You mimic him teasingly, legs crossed, tapping your foot in the air.
“Hm.. I’d give you a solid 8/10 for your first time. No cuts, and your chopping was actually pretty good,”
He brightens at the praise.
“Really? Good enough for electrolyte gel packs?”
You laugh so hard you bend over yourself.
“Yeah.. yeah definitely.”
“Nice job, Midoriya.”
“All thanks to my teacher, super wise.”
You bow your head a little and he claps for you.
Wordlessly, he cracks both of your bottles open with seamless strength, returning them to their spot on the table.
“It should be cool enough to eat now,”
He bows his head and so do you.
He feels warm.
After your meal in the afternoon, you and Deku continue to drink into the late night. He makes sure to watch himself - knowing he’ll have to drive himself home. You drink just a little more, not enough that you’re a mess. But your defences are lowered, and you’re sleepy. Maybe even a little giggly too. Beer bottle sit on the coffee table that separates the two of you
You sit adjacent to each other. He has his legs crossed, table pushed back so he can get all of him comfortably between the couch and table. You have your knees up, chin resting against one of them as your arms wrap around your legs. You’re all smiles, all warmth.
“I had fun today,” you muse, voice softer than a whisper. He glances at you, nodding.
“Me too,” ― he admits, voice barely above a whisper ― “It’s been a long time since I’ve spent time without someone.”
“Aw, what, your mom doesn’t count?”
He laughs a little.
“Just teasin’. Me too.”
“Mhm. It’s just work, then school, then work. All on a loop. I don’t get much time off.”
“...Is there a particular reason for it?”
“Tryna get to know me, Midoriya?” you tease. He chuckles.
“Caught red-handed.”
It makes your heart flutter. To hear him tell him to your face that he’s interested in you. You rub your feet together nervously.
“I don’t see a lot of my parents. I’ve always taken care of things on my own. It’s hard, but..” ― you confess to him voice, weary, and worn out ― “‘s not all bad. Stressful. It gets lonely, but I think it’ll be okay in the end”
“What about you, Pro-Hero Deku?,”
He laughs uncomfortably, a tight lipped smile on his mouth.
“What about me?”
“D’you get lonely a lot..?”
His gut reaction is almost violent, a spear through his chest. The blood is already in his mouth, the bitterness of heroism deep in his gut. He shakes his head at the panic and how it stirs inside of him.
“No.. I.. well -.”
“You must, right?” ― you let out a soft yawn, face so squished it’s hard to hear you talk. You struggle to get the words out ― “You’re the number one hero, All Might successor. Must be busy, right?”
“You should sleep soon,” ― his voice is strained.. it aches in his throat. He can’t tell you to stop, but he can’t bear to listen either so he gets ready to appease you ― “You’ve had a lot to drink,”
“I’m sober, Midoriya. Mostly, anyway. Just sleepy.. I’m just sayin.”
“I notice it in you sometimes,” ― you hum, lifting your head to look at him ― “You always hesitate to say things. But.. ‘sokay to admit things are hard. Life is hard for your average schmuck like me.”
He laughs a little.
“You’re not a schmuck.”
“Maybe not but I’m no hero, either. It’s hard for me and I bet it’s hard for you too. That’s okay, you know? You’re still.. still a person. And to me, you’re just Midoriya. A guy with a hard job. And cool scars.”
He stares down at the beer bottle he’s been nursing in his lap for god knows how long and feels something shift inside of him. It’s tectonic, the way his whole body shifts its weight. A steady build, like a geyser - everything coming to a head inside of him. It’s so heavy, this burden that makes his shoulders slump. He really doesn’t mean to get choked up like this. He’ll blame the alcohol but there’s more to it than that. Much more about why he’s splitting apart at the seams.
It must be that you are nothing like anyone he knows. And it breaks him, tears him apart like how people crack eggs - he feels soft and yellow like a yolk, any moment and he’ll break. He doesn’t know how it happens, but he cries. Quiet and steady at first but slowly he can’t keep holding it. It’s a crescendo, a cacophony of all of his misery. He cries then sobs. So loudly it’s almost violent. It cracks and thunders, and suddenly he’s an open wound on your living room floor. He finds himself sobbing so pathetically he doesn’t know what to do. The backs of his palms are rubbing his eyes and in between each choked breath, he’s trying to tell you he’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine.
But suddenly, your body is pressed around him. You’ve slotted yourself next to him on your knees and you pull his whole body onto you. The weight of his torso ends up in your arms. You hold him and you run your hands over your back and he cries and it’s so ugly. It’s ugly and loud.
He’s so raw from emotions and all he can hear is you and your voice, shushing him quietly. He clings to you for life. It’s so unusual for him.. to cry like this. Over something like this. Maybe because it’s the first time in four years he’s admitted to himself something so small.
It’s so hard. God.. it’s all so hard.
He sobs into your neck, uncontrollable and you don’t say a word. You melt your body into his.
Before he knows it, your body is shaking too. You’re crying and clinging to each other and everything in the world is blind with your tears. You hold each other desperately, your loneliness stuck together like it can’t be pulled apart.
On the floor of your living room, the rain outside pours in heavy sheets. And Izuku Midoriya cries into your shoulder, tipsy and tender from the force of your words. His stomach is tied and eventually he can’t help but cling to you. He wants to hold you in his arms but he doesn’t know how to ask. How does he approach you? Why can't he take the hand you’ve put out for him?
“Midoriya,” ― you whisper hoarsely, stroking his hair ― “You can trust me.”
He sobs a little harder at that. You almost don’t hear him at first, the way his voice falls apart as you listen to it.
“I’m sorry for crying.”
You can’t help but laugh. You keep holding him, just a little tighter.
“It’s okay,” you hum “It’s gonna be okay,”
He believes you when you say it. He believes you when you hold him. He believes you when you say he can trust you, and with every part of him - he wants to love you. He wants to give it all back tenfold. This selfish feeling that festers in the cracks of his heart, this yearning - he doesn’t have any choice but to call it love.
If he were more sober, and less tired - he’d probably be losing his mind at the thought. To call something love, to call this love. It makes him feel like he’s losing his mind but right now all he can focus on is you and the way your heart rests. He’s thinking of your hands and how gentle they feel on his skin and how he’s holding you. How relieving it is to hold someone.
“It’s hard sometimes,” ― he confesses, all jagged edges ― “I don’t regret it.. not ever. But it’s hard sometimes.”
You run your fingers through his curls just a little, soft and gentle.
“Yeah.. I bet it is.”
Izuku Midoriya believes firmly in one thing.
He believes love, above all else, must be a choice.
At the very least, you must have some choice in love. If you intend to love someone, or love anything for a long time - you have to choose it everytime. He thinks loving people is like that. A series of decisions we make in order to show or prove it. We choose love. It finds us and then we get to choose how we harbor it. He thinks he’s something of a hopeless idealist, in every aspect of his life. About everything in the world, he wants to do it in the most poetic way. He wants his whole life to be shrouded in the feeling that he’s doing something beautiful.
He could call justice something of a first love. In that way he does everything for it. That he chooses to fight for it, to contribute to it everyday he’s alive.
He thinks love itself is a choice but he thinks falling in love is the only decision in your life you have no control over. He thinks loving you, in particular, is something that happened to him rather than something he looked for. Falling for you the first time he saw you, he had no part in it.
But hopelessly and endlessly searching for you - just maybe that had something to do with him.
After the night in your apartment, you make him comfortable and send him home with some curry and warm regards. Of all the nights he’d gone home feeling lonely, that night had been the hardest. There was this desire out of his control that he’d been ignoring for so long but it all came to a tide that night. The longing was borderline unbearable and since then, he’s had to take a long hard look at himself and at this.. all of this.
Izuku Midoriya can admit to himself after all of this that he’s a little helplessly in love with you. He hasn’t stopped seeing you, either. On Sundays, every other Sunday, he drops by your place for little cooking lessons. He misses when he was ignoring it and he could just enjoy your company but now your every movement has something feeling hot under his skin. He finds himself daydreaming about you on the job and his heart feels like it’s gonna burst out of his chest.
But, this is the first time he’s ever love. It’s the first time he’s ever felt something so strongly and it’s more terrifying than it is romantic. He feels like he’s been blindsided by something and he stays up into the late hours of the night, counting off all the reasons it won’t work out.
It’s what he’s best at, thinking of every possible outcome. You could always find someone who could be with you more and move on, and maybe you’re not even interested in Deku. It’s always possible you just think you are. He thinks a lot of things are possible and he focuses on the worst case scenario each time. It’s easier not to set up expectations that way. If anything happens, he’ll be ready for it.
But with you, the worst case scenario is that he confesses and you reject him - and you disappear out of his life. He knows rationally that it’s unlikely, but he thinks about it and something in him breaks profoundly. There’s another situation where you remain friends but you fall for someone else and it makes him almost sick.
All of it is gut-wrenching. For so long, he’s had any number of defenses up. A busy schedule, the burden of work, short answers and the redirection of those prying questions - he’s gotten so good at making sure no one gets past them. It’s rare that anyone has even noticed. His heart is so many layers deep. Only a few people know, namely Kacchan and his mom and All Might.
And then there’s you, with soft hands, tearing through all the ground and rooting him up from Earth. You who digs his heart from the ground and holds it up to the warmth of your love.
It burns so hot he feels like he can’t get close to it. When he thinks of you, he thinks of all of his short-comings. He thinks of all the things he can’t be for you.
But he can’t get himself to let go either, and when your hands reach into his ribs and take his heart, he doesn’t shake you off to stop it. He lets it happen, lets you consume his every breath. All over his body are the sensations of you and your touches - ghostly in his memory.
Izuku Midoriya thinks love is a choice and he knows he can’t take back the one to love you.
He just.. doesn’t know what to do with all of it.
The day is so long it bleeds.
That’s the best way he knows how to describe it, really. It’s longer than ever because daylights all soaked up before 8pm, and it’s so dark it webs across the city without patience. After a day like today, it’s all he can see for miles. Darkness for miles and miles - the path of it sunken and terrible.
He’s had a lot of days like this in his life, as a hero - there are always lives you can’t save. People who don’t make it out of the disaster, people you miss, people who get trapped. Dekus sees things so gruesome it makes his skin crawl, seeping into him while he’s awake. He has nightmares and he takes medication to manage all of it. Goes to therapy when he can. No amount of conversation could really make it go away but it’s nice to tell someone his feelings.
Deku still doesn’t know how to deal with something so inevitable such as loss. As a hero it’s never easy.
After months of stagnation in the villain case, the one that he had to solve with Kacchan, there was finally word of activity. Normally in situations like that - groups will simply disband or dissolve because of the lack of members and it goes cold before anything else can happen. It’s rare that anything ever comes out of it later, it just sort of disappears after the first big arrest.
He figures that would be the case today too. After getting on his shift, about an hour into it, he gets pings from every direction. A villain attacks on the east side, only a few blocks from his route. It’s an emergency, CODE E - meaning it was a big mass of destruction and that other heroes were on the way.
He was on it before he could think twice, feet moving faster than his head as he activates a steady 8% for speed, jumping over buildings and skipping traffic until he ends up on the overhead of the scene. From the view above he can practically taste the chaos. It’s a big build-up of cop-cars around the scene. There’s people everywhere, first responders, evacuating all nearby residents. There’s already been some explosions and destruction but no serious injuries.
When he finally gets down, he meets with the police chief, Kacchan, and Todoroki - all of them breaking down the situation carefully to him. He comes to learn that the leader of the organization is holed up in one of those buildings and that he’s hysterical.
Human beings are incredibly fragile. They crack and shatter and splinter like glass under the pressure of life. Every person in the world is capable of bad things. The unimaginable becomes possible when you remember how briefly we bask in goodness. It’s not that humanity is evil but it’s fragile.
He learns about the boy inside - he’s young, just 18. He’s a highschool student. He learns about his whole life, abusive family and suffering. His list of traumas make his gut wrench just to listen too and Kacchan has that solemn look in his eyes that he only gets when he knows things will end badly. He details to Deku all of his miseries and Deku listens like his heart is made of lead.
“So where are we?”
Kacchan tells Deku that he’s inconsolable and his name is Yamato and doesn’t say a word more. Deku gives him that pleading look that he always has when it gets to be like this, but Todoroki is quick to put a hand on his shoulder and shake his head. It’s not in them to give up on anyone, hero or villain - so it makes his stomach clench.
Deku gets told to help the other heroes clear the area out and take care of civilians and with that he’s sent away. It tears him apart, the knowing and the dread. The dread of it all is so, so heavy.
At 7pm, the sun is set completely, and he gets word that he’s dead. It’s over, just like that. In a moment another person - gone , and his name was Yamato and he was 18. Just like that. Human life is so fragile. We only live briefly and we do it so delicately it’s impossible to know the outcome. Deku thinks of all the things he could’ve been and he finds himself on a bench in front of his agency, crying his eyes out for a kid he doesn’t know.
Loss is always a part of the job. There will always be someone, something that you can’t change. He knows it’s important to remember the good things but today, the world is dark at 7pm and Deku is wiping his tears with the back of his gloved hands. He’s sad about all of it. He’s sad he couldn’t change anything. The helpless feeling about this job and the loneliness. It will never be enough no matter how much he fights. There will always be a life he can’t save.
He’s told to go home that day, a little earlier than normal. It’s ironic, on a day he knows you don’t have work. After everything happens, he takes their advice and goes back to his agency. All he hears when he’s there is condolences. They know how it is.. how he is on days like today.
The day is so long it bleeds. When darkness hits, it still feels like time is stuck in the same place. It dries and scabs and itches.
He’s planning on going home today and resting. The most you know is that he has a day off, he got sent home earlier because of a case but he hasn’t told you the details.
He gets a text from you not long after he tells you.
from 7/11 girl ; oh! do you wanna come over for dinner then?
He stares at the message for a long while. It’s a moment in which his body moves before he can think
to 7/11 girl ; i’d love too.
He ends up at your doorstep with all of his belongings still in his arms.
Shifting his weight uncomfortably from one leg to the other, a shaky breath enters his lungs. His heart rate is rapid and the feeling of regret is tying his hands to his sides, finding it impossible to reach his hand up and knock. His head is going a million miles an hour, racing with the thoughts of remorse. Reprimanding himself for being selfish, trying to see you in this state. He should just go home and call it a night, there’s still time for that.
Another text pings his phone, startling him out of his thoughts.
from 7/11 girl ; i’m glad you’re coming over. i was getting a little lonely today.
He takes a deep breath, just trying to gather himself, and raises his trembling hand to knock on the door. He winces at the meekness of the sound, unconfident. Each second that passes by is another of him contemplating leaving. He could leave it all here, he could leave, he could leave, he could leave.
The door swings open, and there you are in a big comfortable hoodie and shorts that hit your knee and mismatched socks. Deku stares at you with wide emerald eyes and you look back at him, smiling with your teeth.
He can’t leave.
Your eyes widen at the sight of him. He trembles like a telephone wire in a storm, uncentered and shaking desperately. You catch it, that despair in his eyes before he can blink it away and it has you stopping dead in your tracks. All of his things are still in his arms and he’s covered in grime. His hand quivers as it clutches his bags to his body. He racks his eyes over you, no words coming. Just a gaping mouth, gasping like a fish out of water, struggling to speak,
“Midoriya,” ― you press forward, brows furrowed together ― “Are you okay?”
Is he okay? No, not particularly. His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again and he stares at you for a long while. Slowly at the seams is where it always starts, falling into nothingness.
Love is an abyss, he thinks to himself. That must be where the phrase falling in love comes from. He is on the cliff as he looks at you, rock crumbling and breaking beneath his feet the longer he stands in your doorway. The uncertainty that comes from that darkness, looming and inviting. It calls to him with the voice loud enough to sweep nations to dust. He sees you, and you look like a clump of stars - burning hotly in the stark obsidian night. You are the silver lining, the muse, the answer. To Izuku Midoriya, you are everything and some change. You’re the girl he meets at 7/11, the one who puts muscle patches on his back, and teaches him to cook and makes him feel like he exists. So alive it almost makes him sick. He is nauseous at the way love has him acting.
There is a brief moment before you jump into open waters, or darkness, or anything that requires you to fall with no promise of land - that your head is completely clear. Only after you’ve leaped, the action set in motion, do you know what the right choice was.
Deku understands it briefly, the cost of his actions. The consequence of choosing love, taking it - the hand held out. He understands, for just one moment, that love is one step in the door. That love is right there but he has to reach for it, to feel it. He won’t know unless he jumps.
He reaches for you. He steps one foot in the door and drops his bags to the side of him and he shuts the door and he reaches for love.. for you. Just this one time.
His arms wrap around your shoulders like vines and he clings to you for dear life. His face is buried in the nape of your neck and his body feels like it’s submerging in the darkness. He feels like he’s falling, so far he can’t see what was before this. He holds you tight and your hands snake around his waist.
“Izuku” he corrects hoarsely.
You decide that the first thing he should do is bathe.
“You can take a shower in my..”
His eyes are round and worrisome. Gruesomely exhausted. You don’t think you could tell him to be in there alone in good conscience - no matter how willingly he would accept. He hasn’t stopped touching you in some way, something silently inside of him aching to hold you. You can feel all the places he holds back, a violent force. With Midoriya.. with Izuku - you find sometimes you have to force yourself inside of his boundaries.
He’s holding your hand and staring at it, dark rounds underneath his lower lash line. You reach your hand out a little further as he sits, and press your palm against his cheek. Your thumb brushes underneath his eyes and he smiles a little.
“We can take a bath together,”
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,”
“You won’t,”
It takes a little convincing and you worry he’s too tender for it but he just nods and closes his eyes. Leaning into your touch, he moves his mouth to kiss your wrist and then looks at you as you flush. Still uncomfortable with this touch - the intimacy of his hold has your breath shaking in your lungs.
“C’mon with your clothes. My bathroom is pretty big so you should fit in it just fine but it might be a bit tight,”
He nods, absent and soft. You watch as he takes his things from his bag and stands - eyes immediately searching for you like a small animal. He takes your hands in his but nudges you to guide him and gives you a soft smile as you flush. Just moments ago he was clinging to you but it feels different somehow.
You lead him to your bathroom and it’s a nice size. It’s a little bit wider, with a small closet and a tub that he thinks you could both fit in. There’s a big, wide mirror on the wall and on the counter there’s skincare and makeup. He smiles at it, only frowning when you let go of his hand. He watches as you run the bathwater hot and go into your closet for towels and soaps of all kinds. He stands awkwardly, his own nerves just starting to catch up to him. It’s mostly overshadowed with desire.. with yearning that stretches across the sun at least 3 times.
You’re still turned around as you speak.
“You should.. uhm.. undress,” you say, stiff as a board. His eyes go wide and he flushes a bit.
“Oh! Uhm.. yeah, right,” ― he coughs, heart in his throat ― “Are you…?”
You nod, meek.
He can’t mask his shock, nor the immediate twitch in his jeans that he spends a few minutes managing before carefully undressing. His shirt first comes off, slides over his shoulder blades and comes completely off.
After that, it’s his pants and socks, until he’s left with nothing but boxers hanging on his hips. He hesitates a little to take them off, so he does it with a deep breath. He’s self-conscious of it, his physique so bare. He doesn’t remember the last time anyones seen him completely naked and it makes his heart stammer uncomfortably.
You turn to him, shyly grazing over at him before closing your own eyes and taking your clothes off. Deku watches you with a bated breath, mouth catch flies as you slide your hoodie off to reveal nothing underneath - same as your basketball shorts. They simply fall to the floor and you’re naked. Your whole body is under his eyes with scrutiny and you find yourself covering your body with your hands almost inadvertently.
It comes out as a clumsy and confused gasp - with more vigor than he means.
“You’re beautiful,” and you can tell he means it with the way he blinks and just looks, over again. You flush a little, wanting the Earth to swallow you up. But he’s so.. gentle. So easy.
“...You should get in the water,” ― you tell him, reaching for something ― “I picked a bathbomb out so..”
He stops, lips turned in the corner before nodding. The water is hot and full and Deku steps inside of it, bending down and securing himself to the wall with the showerhead and faucet. The water relaxes the tenseness out of his muscles almost immediately, eyes going heavy. He looks at you, and watches you prepare yourself. You drop your hands and steel your nerves, softly walking towards him.
“D’you want me to sit on the other side…?”
He shakes his head, feeling hesitant.
“No uhm.. if it’s okay. I thought you could sit.. y’know. So I can.. hold you,” he explains sheepishly. You nod.
“That’s okay. I’d.. I think I’d like that,”
So you do. He widens the space between his legs as much as possible and lets you step inside the warm water. It sloshes around the tub, just a little as you adjust but eventually, you end up right between his legs bare naked. He has to shake any inappropriate thoughts away, especially with you so close in his reach. He watches idly as you reach over the side of the tub for a bath caddy you placed on the floor, just before getting in. You take the bath bomb from the middle compartment, and drag it to the water.
You hold it as it fizzes, still a big gap between you and him. He stares at you for a while. It’s tense, steamy air clouding your air and inhibitions.
“You can come closer,” he assures you, voice barely there. You freeze, looking over at him from one of your shoulders and you nod. Your lips are tucked between your teeth but you scoot back and you can feel.. him a little more. More than anything, you can feel the way his arms lock around your middle. Your back is on his chest, his arms circled tight around your waist. He tucks his chin over one of your shoulders and leans you back into him - just enough. Just so it’s comfortable and close.
It’s more intimate than everything you’ve ever felt in your life. The touch of his naked body, scarred skin - your hands are still holding the bath bomb. He presses his cheek to your shoulder as he watches. He’s amused by how the colors turn indefinitely. It smells a little bit like vanilla, a soft sugary scent permeating through the water. It’s green. He wonders if that was on purpose.
The weight of you rests in the crooks of him. You reside in this space in his arms, intimately. Your skin is soft to the touch and the water is warm - with two bodies it never gets too cold. For a while, all he does is hold you. He holds you indiscriminately, nothing extra to his actions. Not lust nor tragedy but just something pure and basic, the need to feel love through someone else's hands. Skin to skin, soft and gentle. It’s quiet and wordless.
With your body resting on his, you lift your head to look up at him briefly. You watch him with interest.
“What happened today, Izuku?”
He lets out a deep sigh, his voice scratchy and worn.
“On the job today.. one of the villains. Uhm.. he was really young. No one could talk him out of it no matter what he tried,” ― he tells you wearily ― “He.. didn’t make it. It just happened and then everything just kept happening. Loss and stuff like that is normal for hero work, but I can never.. get used to it.”
“...That’s good, that you can’t” you reply. He looks confused.
“That’s good..?”
“It means you have your humanity still intact inside of you. If you still get sad over people, no matter how mundane, then it means you still haven’t been.. desensitized from all of it. Means that you still care,” you explain to him gently “It was hard wasn’it?”
His voice trembles as he holds you closer, so impossibly close to him. The world is dark but you are like sunlight, brilliant. He mumbles something under his breath, rubbing his face into your skin like a cat might. You find it endearing.
“Yeah it was.. It was hard,” ― his voice is a breeze, feathery ― “It was a really hard day today and I was just gonna… I was gonna go home and then you texted me.”
You smile a little at that. It goes quiet again.
“Can I.. tell you something?”
“Yeah.. what is it?”
He shifts, and his voice becomes slow - it’s like the moment right before a fan's blades swirl. That moment where everything feels like it’s being set in motion, the drag of it. The inertia that builds - this is the very start of something so beautiful it spins.
“I love you,” ― he whispers, right into your shoulder blade with the weight of a million lives - and his too, right in the crook of your neck ― “I love you..”
The weight of the world, of heroism, or selfless acts and martyrdom - all of it falls onto the water below. He’s so tired, worn out. You think this is his way of asking you, if it’s alright to share this part of myself.
I’ve cut myself into so many parts, can you take this one? he says, without words but with hands Will you take the heart I’ve kept locked away and hold it? Will you take the only part of me that is still whole?
You find something deep inside of you. It’s unruliness. Everything in the world that is ugly has stopped, falling in front of your feet and the loneliness that itches inside of you suddenly melts. Like a popsicle in the summer sun, it fades away into pure sugar, sticky. What is love but hands that hold?
“I love you too, Izuku,”
His eyes shut and he breathes a breath, shaky and unsure. He squeezes you as if you might disappear, closer and closer.
“Can I ask.. is it okay if I ask why?”
“Why I love you?”
“What you see in me.. I just… I want to be sure,” ― he laughs a little soft, insecure ― “I guess it’s hard for me to understand it all the way. I only know all of this from my side.”
You wrap your hands, small over his. You hold and stretch it out, staring at his scarred palms under the sea green water. You sigh, and collapse a little as if you’re letting something out.
“I’ve always liked you,” ― you explain absently, squeezing his fingers and leaning into his touch, eyes closed ― “You’re awkward and sometimes shy, but you’re charming. You’re kind. It’s always been easy to like you.”
You take a deep breath, and your eyes open as you lean your head back, you look up at him and he looks like sunlight. A home in a person.
“But, then you would ask about me. You would worry for me and remember me. You listened to everything I had to say, even when you were somewhere busy and far away. I wondered if maybe you treated everyone like that,” you admit to him. He shakes his head and you laugh, reaching your hand back to hold his cheek.
“I didn’t know if I was special to you or if maybe.. I don’t know. Maybe you were like this to everyone, but you always made an effort for me - it made me feel special. When you tell me to do things and carve your time out for me,” ― you close your eyes again and they rest just against your cheek ― “The more I got to know you, the more I realized that you went out of your way for me. I like you, as is, but I liked feeling special to you. I wanted to be closer to you. I wanted to be the one who knows you best like how you know me”
“What about you, Izuku?” you ask, gently “What was it about me?”
He hums a little, shyly and awkwardly.
“It felt like you saw right through me, instead of looking at me. It was scary, but you just.. you make it so easy. It makes me feel selfish to pull anyone into my life, but the more I saw you, the more I didn’t feel like myself. It was scary.. and I didn’t understand,” ― he said with a laugh, eyes pressed completely shut ― “You were the first person… the first thing I’ve wanted so badly. It almost hurt,”
He realizes what he said and his eyes go wide and yours go wide too.
“You.. wanted me?”
The air becomes thick. Warm water suddenly feels hot and something feels awake inside of him the way you look up at him and he looks down at you. It makes him feel dizzy.
“I want you.. still. Want you, always,” with the double meaning sitting heavy on the end.
You flush, look away and stiffen.
“You weren’t uhm.. y’know.. down there. Didn’t think you were.. attracted to me,”
“I’ve been holding back. Didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” he strains, deep in his throat.
“You won’t,” you assure, shaky.
“Are you sure? We don’t have too… and I mean! I’ve never really - I don’t have much experience so I don’t wanna.. disappoint,”
He squeaks.
Your lashes look heavy when you blink, lips tugged in your teeth.
“I’ve wanted you too.”
His eyes grow the size of the moon and you laugh, just a little.
“Y-you have?!”
Wordlessly, you take your hand, the one around your waist, and guide it so gently between your thighs. He feels frozen behind you as you maneuver his hand to be touching just against your sex. It’s burning, sticky on his fingers. He lets out gasp, soft under his breath as you guide him to touch you shivering. All the blood in his head rushes straight to his dick, and it grows so stiff it almost aches.
“Holy shit” he gasps and then groans, a little guttural “Holy.. holy shit,”
“Are you.. shit - I don’t have any. I don’t have much e-experience with this stuff,”
You hum at the way his hands keep moving anyways, still rubbing softly against your folds.
“S’okay. I’m a good teacher right?,” ― you say through a breathy sigh ― “You’re a quick learner, too,”
“Haah, holy shit. I really might die.”
You laugh at this fully, smiling at him.
“I want you really bad,” you say with a squirm “I’m on the pill, too.”
His eyes go wide and you laugh again, a little - feeling mischievous. Enjoying the effect you have on him, as he looks at you with eyes wide. Blown out with lust.
“Don’t regret it, okay?”
“I won’t. Not if it’s you.”
He takes a deep breath like he’s trying to wrap his head around all of it. It makes you laugh a little.
“We should get out of the bath first,” you say amused.
Before you can think about it, Deku is standing up. You scoot away, planning on doing the same. But after he stands up, he grabs a towel and immediately lifts you. He carries you on one arm like you weigh less than a paperclip and you yelp as he draws you to his chest.
“I-Izuku, let me down, I’m -,”
This time he laughs at you, almost knowing what you’re gonna say.
“Sorry, I’ll warn you next time but if you think you’re heavy, you’re sorely mistaken” ― he tells you with amusement ― “I did curls with double your weight by the time I was a first year.”
You squeak, feeling incredibly shy as you cling to him.
“My bedroom is on the left.. don’t drop me.”
He laughs at you again, a little more teasing.
“I won’t baby.”
He carries you all the way to your bedroom, where you find yourself more grateful than ever that you cleaned before he came. He drops you onto his bed with a soft thud, towel underneath you as your back lands on it. It’s different like this, the lighting a little dimmer but with him still so perfectly in view. Your eyes go wide at the sight of him as you scoot yourself towards the headboard.
He follows you in hot pursuit, body hovering over yours. Your head hits the pillow and Deku is right above you, with his hands on either side of your head. You smile at him and he looks down at you with big eyes.
“You’re so handsome.”
“I’m already hard.”
This makes you laugh and makes him grin, and you reach your arms out. Wrapping them around his neck - you drag him down to you. His mouth ghosts over yours, full and pretty. This is the first time you’ve really looked at him and god - he’s gorgeous to look at. His mouth is full and his eyes are so round - full of this pretty dark green that turns just seafoam in the middle. You feel like you’re going to drown inside of them, already yearning.
“You’re pretty,” he groans, and looks up at you through thick lashes “So pretty, think it every time I look at you.”
“Izuku, kiss me,” ― you demand.
He chuckles against your mouth, soft.
“Your wish is my command.”
He presses his mouth to yours, feather light at first. It’s been so long since you’ve kissed someone, you can’t help but feel it. Something about his lips makes you feel weak, the heat is of his body melting together with yours. It starts with one, soft and gentle - but it goes quickly to another one. Slowly he pulls away and then kisses you again, makes you open your mouth a little wider as he presses a little further. You can’t wrap your brain around how it’s making you feel. Your whole body feels like it’s sinking into your mattress, his mouth soft and full. His tongue invites itself inside, sliding against yours with the embers of flame.
What starts as kisses turn into hot pants, deep into his mouth. You can feel saliva run down your cheek as desire burns through, molten in your core. Your clit throbs with want, and you feel Deku before you see him. It makes you gasp - how big it feels, heavy too, against the meat of your thigh. You grind against it without meaning too. Deku moans in your mouth right as it happens
It feels like you're breathing each other's air - months and months of lust, pure and unadulterated, slipping out from beneath you. It’s overwhelming to be touching him, finally. Your fingers thread through his hairs and you tug, another pretty sound coming from him. . He’s so vocal with you, every moan or breath like fuel to the fire.
His hands find you soon after, exploratory - they start at your side, slowly moving up to cup your tits. His hands are firm, albeit shaky - and he touches them like he couldn’t wait a moment longer to get his hands on you. They’re so big. He dwarfs you right on top like this, and you fit perfectly in his cupped hands. His groping incessant, just like his kissing - invasive. You can feel how he can’t seem to get enough, each motion heavy with the want of many months prior.
Everything about how he touches you sends your whole body leaping, you feel weightless - the way your heart raises. It ends up all the way in your throat, in your mouth. It’s a stuttering and blind desire, all white. All you can think about is how much it aches. How much you want him, wanting and wanting and wanting.
“Izuku,” ― it comes out as a gasp when you pull away, a string of saliva as evidence when you reel back and look at him, his lidded eyes gazing down at you ― “Izuku..”
“What is it, baby? You okay?”
You squirm at the sound of his voice, gone deep like he’s been holding back all this time. It’s denser, coming from his stomach instead of his chest.
You kiss him again, and then pull back, brushing your nose to his.
“I like when you call me baby.”
“My baby,” ― he adds, kissing your nose, then the corners of your mouth ― “You’re so pretty. Don’t know anyone who looks as pretty as you.”
“Stop, I can’t fall for you anymore than I have.”
He giggles at that, kissing you again, and again and again until you’re laughing. A mess in his arms, he presses kisses all over your face.
“Just trying to make sure it stays that way.”
You frown a little.
“What happened to you being nervous?”
“I’m still nervous,” he insists, squeezing your tits in his hands with a breath, thumb brushing over your nipples. You gasp a little, shaking, as he gives you a troublesome grin - he’s bad for your heart “But I just.. I want you so bad. I’ve been thinking about you for months.”
“Maybe longer.”
“What were you thinking about…?”
His eyes go wide, mind racing with detailed fantasies that he gave into so long ago. He swallows a lump in his throat.
“Thought you would taste.. wanted to uhm - put my mouth on you. Still want too,”
He groans, burying his face in your neck. You laugh, granting him a little mercy
“Fucked myself wishing’ it was you,” you tell him, whispering like a secret.
He snaps his head up immediately, just to stare as if he were worried you were bluffing. You look at him sheepishly and he groans. Everything about you makes him feel drunk, unkempt. His hands are back on your skin and he presses an opened mouth kiss to your jaw, down your neck. He’s thankful for all the perving he’s done in his life, at this moment. The way your throat bobs and you sigh as his tongue slides over the sharp edge. He trails them, stamping them across your skin and all the way to your neck.
You feel his teeth, flat but sharp, as he sucks the flesh into his mouth. A gasp rises out of you.
“Oh,” you whimper, hands around his shoulders, trying to steady yourself as he sucks marks into your neck. “Izuku,”
“Wanna take my time tonight,” ― he sounds like he’s pleading with you, an edge to his voice as fingers draw circles in your waist ― “Wanna make you feel so good,”
“Can I…? Please..?”
You blink at him and then nod, watching as his lips turn into a soft grin. He slides his hands over every inch of your body, placing his lips at your neck first and trailing kisses all over it - over the marks he’s already left, the base of his throat. His tongue is summer along the new bruises, a trail of hot saliva sticking to your skin as he goes lower and lower. His mouth feels like a bunch of tiny pricks, how deeply the craving sets in. Kisses against your collar bones, down your chest, until his mouth ends up at your tits.
He bites and licks with care and precision - careful not to be too hard but not soft either. His hunger for you seems almost insatiable, and he’s learning with practicality. Every pleasant sound from your lips garners him trying it again, going a little harder like he wants to pull it right from your throat. His free hand squeezes the soft flesh and his mouth sucks on your nipples, pebbled and hard under your tongue. You feel impossibly wet, boneless in your bed at the way he pays so much attention to you. All need, all lust.
There’s a vulgarity to it, how he licks and then bites soft, tugs until you cry out with your head thrown back. He learns where to touch you once and runs it to the ground. It feels like time is moving at a snail pace as he disarms your hesitance. Even when it feels clumsy, it never stays that way for long. You can’t keep up with how often you're moaning his name. Over and over like an incantation. Izuku, Izuku, Izuku - god how you want him.
You want to beg him to touch you but all he does is unravel you, for so long you almost feel teary. He wants to make you feel good, massages your whole body with his mouth - hot as sin. You feel like a falling star falling into the atmosphere and burning up. What feels like millenia of being torn apart is only minutes. Down to the devilish detail, he learns how to make you feel so good with nothing but your tits and his mouth.
“Izuku, please,”
His voice is soft against your skin and the view is nothing but call for misdeed, eyes lidded and mouth swollen from where he runs it over your skin. The room has to be at least a few hundred degrees - sweating and clenched.
“Can’t get enougha’ you,” ― he whispers against your stomach, cheek pressed to it ― “I wanna make you feel good.. wanna see you touch yourself,”
Your eyes grow wide as you look at him, and he gives you a soft smile.
“You’re a good teacher,” ― he teases, a devilish laugh attached ― “I’m asking as your favorite student.. show me how.”
“You’re really too much,”
But you oblige, and Deku knows by how you shift. He scoots back until the view is perfect, spreading your legs wider. He kisses up your thighs as your hand shifts, soft and nervous between your legs. He’s so close - you can feel his breath on you. It makes your spine tingle.
“Don’t be shy.. you’re beautiful.”
You want to tell him that that only makes you more shy but he’s got his eyes glued onto you, anticipatory, and you can’t believe yourself but god it makes you wet. How he stares, how he longs for it.
You go slow, shifting your fingers to be at the right angle. You know yourself well, so many nights alone in your bedroom, thinking of him. The visual of him wide-eyed and slick mouthed, makes it easy to do again. You put the pressure slowly, just to fingers so he can see - and relieve yourself. Touch yourself in front of his very eyes, slowly forgetting the humiliation. You’re not sure how long he wants you to go, but it feels so good to get the pressure off. Your toes curl and Deku speaks under his breath.
“So pretty.. all of you,” ― his hands are at your navel, spreading you further ― “I love looking at you.”
You feel like you could cum from nothing at all. The pleasure for now is a frazzle crescendo. It’s not enough - like even if you came from it, you would still be chasing after another one. You need more, so much more - need him. You keep asking for him, after each little pant you call for him. He murmurs, voice soft as sand, almost breaking apart after each word.
“‘zuku, Izuku,”
“I’m here, I’m here baby.”
Again and again, making your orgasm stir. The knot inside of you slowly comes undone, piece by piece, but it’s not what you want. It frustrates you, annoyance welling up inside of you until you can’t take it anymore. Your brows are furrowed and it almost feels itchy. All it is is need, an insufferable amount of need.
“N-need you so bad,” ― you manage, words caught like they’re stuck in your chest ― “Please, please.. touch me,”
“Okay.. shh, shh - it’s okay.”
He moves your hands by your wrist, mouth curling around your fingers. He shivers, eyes curious and eager. You look at him hazy, drunk off of a sense of lust you can’t shake.
He takes a few more kisses up your skin, down your navel, then with one hot stroke - runs his tongue against your entire sex before resting right at your clit. Your eyes go wide with a gasp. The reaction from you is immediate, hands going to tangle themselves in the mess of green hairs. His sturdy hands are quick to clasp your thighs. They go underneath your thighs, dragging you towards him with an inexplicable strength. His face is practically buried in it, bumping his nose against your clit until he settled himself. He brushes your pubes back a little with a hum.
“Aaah, fuck - hnggh,”
The noise is so obscene, scorching hot tongue sliding against your folds. It’s so fucking overwhelming, all-consuming - what you’ve wanted for so long. He shifts around and watches for your reaction each time he tries something new. Flattens the muscle against the throbbing little bundle of nerves, pointing it and flicking. He watches and waits until he finds a good pace - learning as he goes. It doesn’t feel as clumsy as it should. As you wish it would. It just feels pleasurable, too much and not enough.
He sucks your clit between his lips until it’s on his tongue, and flattens against it at a maddening pace. The kind of natural ability he has makes your toes curl, mind lost to something. A far out, funny feeling holds you down to the sheets as his arms tight around the back of your thighs. He’s so deep, tongue buried in your cunt and it’s filthy. Shamelessly loud as he licks and licks and licks like it’s his only reason to be alive. His hands feel around till they find yours and he locks fingers as he does it, and everything in the room is spinning.
“Ooh, I-Izuku,”
He hums against your clit and looks up at you through his lashes, and you feel your whole body go slack from the visuals. All you can think to yourself is that you want to cum, over and over, you want to cum. You want to cum all over his face, down his chin. You wanna be all over his everything
“I’m gonna..! I’m gonna c-cum, I’m gonna cum, Izuku.”
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t stutter, doesn’t slow - like he knows if he shifts even a little, he’ll lose his chance. You can hardly think, mind completely blank as you reach your peak - the climax. You can feel it. It’s so unbearably there that every word out of your mouth becomes mish-mash and gibberish.
“Ohmyg’d, oh, oh please.”
Your whole body locks up and you cum - you cum so hard you can barely breath. A gasp gets webbed inside of your lungs and all you can do is spasm unbearably. You grind your clit into his tongue, your orgasm making everything inside of you tremble. Your walls clench harshly around nothing at all and he still hasn’t moved or slowed. You try to move, overstimulated but he doesn’t budge - he just changes the pace and angle.
It doesn’t settle you much, the syrupy lustful feeling, only stronger with the passing seconds. Deku groans as he breaks to lap up as much of your cum as he possibly can. You can feel his saliva dribbling down your sex. He lets go of your hands only so he can spread your thighs as wide as they can go - looking at your swollen clit with almost affection. He stares at it for a few minutes, another hand resting on your navel as his thumb brushes over it. You shake as he touches it.
“You take it so good.. good girl,” ― he praises naturally, easily ― “Such a good girl. Wanna make you give you one more.. before I fuck you.”
Your voice is so rough by now, you cough a little as you look at him.
“W-what about you? W..wanna touch you too.”
He smiles, a soft and pretty smile - it makes you dizzy to even look at. Everything about him makes you so damn dizzy. You give into him unintentionally when he grins, kissing the hood of your clit.
“Some other time, maybe,” ― he announces to you softly, sweetly ― “Just wanna take care of you today.”
You nod for him, absently and without another warning - he tongues your clit again. This time wraps around, sucking on it soft but not doing much else. You question him, briefly, until you feel his fingers.
Izuku’s hands have always been of interest. They’re big, thick, and strong. Everything is sturdy but his hands especially make you desperate. All scar tissue, gnarled from years of use, and so bulky. You’ve always found them attractive - many daydreams surrounding them. You can almost feel the ridges of them even in your fantasy but now he’s right in front of you. His middle finger is so much thicker than yours. Clean and pretty hands, he presses to your hole. You’re so soft inside, it makes his chest tight. He can’t imagine he’ll be able to fuck you long if you feel like this.
“You’re soaking wet, huh?” ― he laughs a little, smiling ― “Cute.”
You don’t have it in you to get upset with him. With the way his finger slowly slips inside of you and prods around, all you can do is whimper a little. You feel strange, pliable in a way you’ve never been in your life. Terribly vulnerable.
“F-feels different,”
You cover your face with your hands, shivering.
“Your hands are so much bigger than mine.. so it feels.. yknow,”
“Does it feel good, baby?”
There it is again, baby. You clench unintentionally, and he has to hide his laughter so as not to embarrass you any further.
“Feels really good. I want more.. please,”
“You’re so cute. You sure you’re ready..? Don’t wanna hurt you,”
You nod a little but he still seems unsure, so he fucks it in and out of you first. His fingers prod inside and he finds it, that little spongy part a few inches deep, pressing onto it without intent. It makes your whole body freeze and tremble, and he stares at you wide-eyed. You’ve got a hand clasped over your mouth, unsure of what it was until he does it again.
“Hnggh, Izuku,”
He hears you loud and clear so he laughs, this time his pointer finger. He’s quick about it this time, granting you the most bare minimum mercies. His fingers stretch you out good, but you’re so wet from cumming once and his saliva, slick on everything. It’s enough to burn just a little but not so much it hurts. You just feel a little full, a little pleased. Deku slides them into you slowly, deeply - and curls them up press against your g-spot. This time, you have a full body reaction - back arching up off the bed. Fingering yourself rarely feels like much of anything but when it’s him, it makes you ache and drip with pure need. This pleasure is a little more hazy to start, but when he fucks them in and out of you, something shifts.
He finds a rhythm that has you breathing heavy, panting between long breaths like there’s not enough air in your lungs. It’s electrifying, sending little sparks through you every time he finds it. This pleasure is deeper, like you can feel it in a place you didn’t know it existed. It carves something out of you. You whimper as he takes your clit into his mouth one more time and the added layer makes your throat constrict.
You really don’t know how to proceed. Your whole body looks like it’s in a state of shock, the dull pressure of his fingers on your sweet spot with the current of your clit buzzing on his tongue. Warm mouth, humming a little just to see you twitch. He’s knuckle deep inside of you, reaching almost into your throat.
“It feel so good, feel so good, Izu.”
He goes a little harder when you call his name, thinking about how he can barely hold himself up. He spares you a little, stretching you out and holding it. He manages to fit all of it inside, rubbing against your walls with precision.
You look so damn good falling apart, all swollen lips and round mouth and pretty blinking lashes. Your eyes go soft, hooded with desire as he fucks into you with two fingers. He adds another when he knows it feels good for you - the little mewl because it’s not enough, another one, so slowly entering inside of you. You feel stuffed to the brim, a never ending fullness. You can’t help yourself but imagine his thick cock inside of you and how that’ll stretch you so nice.
You weren’t sure if it was possible to feel more pleasure but he proves you wrong instantly. His mouth descends on you and he sets his fast pace, consistent. Pleasure again and again and again in little intervals. Your mouth is dropped open in an open scream, this orgasm so much more deep. You can feel how much it will rock you, the sheer force of it has you drooling. You’re his pretty girl, and he can’t help but stare at your blurry expression.
It’s a tremor, unsteady. The first waves of it having your mouth going slack - it’s the kind of orgasm that sort of just creeps on you. It’s brief but strong, an impossible impact like the splitting of atom. It’s one moment, just a little bit longer. Suddenly your mouth is open so wide, unhinged jaw aching and your head thrown violently on the sheets.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, ohfuck, ohfuck,”
It’s more brief but you cum and you cum hard. You can barely understand how it happens, the rapid shaking as you blink tears away from your eyes. Entirely overwhelmed, you swallow your shock.
“Holy shit,” you gasp, staring at him. “Holy shit!”
You watch as he takes his fingers out and sticks them into his mouth, not a lick of hesitation. It makes you flush how he tastes it, a soft moan from his mouth. His tongue drives over all the edges and then he wipes them on his thigh. He leans up, just to kiss you right after and you can taste yourself in his mouth.
“You taste nice,” he tells you, so earnestly it makes your whole body rise with heat. You ignore replying, just kissing him harder and making him laugh. After everything, you find some strength in your hands and reach down, peering at his cock. He’s big. The only way you can describe it is thick, like a coke can. You reach out for, small hands wrapped around it and he moans, especially loud. It makes your eyes go wide.
“It’s so big, Izuku,” you say, breathless. He gives you a sheepish smile.
“Ah.. you think so?”
You frown a little, tugging at it. He drops his head a little as you jerk him off, precum making your hands slick.
“It is big. I wanna.. wanna feel it,”
He gives you a shaky smile, hands reaching towards the other side of the bed.
“Ah.. do you have any condoms?”
You give him a little laugh, releasing your hands from his cock and wrapping them around neck, pulling him down towards you again.
“Did you think I was kidding earlier?”
He doesn’t remember at first, confused - but as soon as he does, his mouth goes agape. His eyes almost seem like they hit the top of his hairline. A shiver runs through him as you give him another kis, grinding your hips up just a little. He groans into your mouth.
“Fuck.. are you sure?” he asks, hot at just the thought of not using a condom. He can barely imagine it, how it’ll feel to take you all the way raw on his cock. You nod at him, smiling as he pulls away.
“I wanna feel it in me raw, ‘s so big. It’s a waste otherwise,” ― you let go and he sits back, watching as you use your fingers to spread your pussy out for him, chuckling ― “It’s a reward for all your hard work,”
Izuku feels like he might lose his mind, staring as he strokes his cock with one hand. If he can last more than three thrusts, he’ll be impressed with himself. Maybe all of his years edging himself will finally prove to be worth his effort. A molten heat starts in his stomach, all the blood rushing to his cock with infallible force. He stares at your cunt, pretty and open for him- all pulsing and hot. He shivers again, and drags you to him. He lets the heavy weight of his cock sit right against your cunt, pressing down a little. You blink at him before whimpering, the heavy head of his dick pulsing against your clit with need.
He drags it, grinds it in and watches through lidded eyes as cum and saliva mix all over it. A little shiver evades him, throwing his head back as he grinds steadily into your pussy. His head is thrown back, mouth dropped open and moaning your name. You watch as his hips stutter, just grinding against your pussy, eagerly but agonizingly slow. It feels so fucking good. It’s an excruciatingly slow buildup of pleasure, how he just feels you.
“Izuku, please,” you plead, hands reaching for him. He grabs them and pins them to the bed with a soft smile, humming.
“Told you I’d take care of you.. be patient.. I wanna feel you,”
You aren’t sure how much more you can take but then it happens. He leans, tell you to take a deep breath, and then you feel it. The head of his cock, curved and weighted, pressing against your hole. It makes you whine, makes your mouth drop into a shocked gasp. You want to squirm or cling but your hands are still pinned so you can’t thrash. You can’t do anything but lay there and take it.
You feel every single inch as it slides so miserably slow inside of you. He’s being sweet with you, his voice in your ear with adoring praise - little whimpering sounds “fuck you feel good, so good,” over and over. It makes you wet, clenching further on his cock as your whole body pulses like a beating hard. You feel ravenous, starving to be so full of him you can’t breathe. He’s just so fucking thick, no matter how you take it. It stabs your lungs, thick. So, so big - it makes you stretch impossibly wide. It’s not like anything you’ve ever felt in your life. He swallows some saliva in his mouth.
“Half-way, baby. J-just a little more”
You can’t think.. only half? You brace yourself, snivelling. You feel a mess, are a mess - listening to the loud shlick sounds. Your brain feels static, whole body giving into the feeling of being fucked full. You want him so bad you don’t know what to do, every word you’ve learned is lost to coveting him. You want him so blindly.
“Iz-Izuku, please fuck me, please,”
Without another word, he lets his hips rut - a sharp thrust that makes you scream, silent. He’s so deep inside it makes you scramble, and he leans down to kiss you. You feel his cock inside your stomach, it’s so big. It feels incredible, so hot and heavy and big. All you can think about is how it feels inside, mind free from anything other than him. Izuku Midoriya, so big and handsome and sweet. He groans into your mouth.
“Can I move, baby?”
“Please. Please move,”
He lets go of your hands, grabbing your legs and sliding them over his shoulders. He looks so fucking pretty, all green-haired and freckled skin and his dick inside of you. So deep it aches, he presses a kiss to the back of your calf - your legs pressed together giving you perfect pressure on your clit. You don’t know how to do anything but brace yourself, fingers buried in the sheets as he pulls his hips back. He’s clearly going slow for you, at least for now - the pace he sets is steady.
His cock feels nothing short of fucking incredible. This rolling pleasure inside of you on your spot and the steady pressure on your clit from where his hands rest on your navel. You can see how hard he focuses to get you to cum agains, how he rolls his hips with all the strength and finesse he can. Izuku fucks you with dancer's hips, so steady and worked out. He doesn’t look tired, his core tightening so he can get the angle just right. It feels like you’re being torn apart, uprooted like grass from the ground. The pleasure is particularly mind-numbing. So terribly desperate. Sweat dripping down the side of his forehead, he goes soft on you. You’re boneless and he gives you a soft smile.
“You take it so well,” ― he praises, kissing up the back of your leg, bending you ― “Such a pretty girl. You’re beautiful.. wanna see the face you make when you cum again. Please? Can you do that for me?”
The praise has you reeling, nodding with pouty lips and too fucked out to respond proper. This orgasm hits you like a natural disaster, this brilliant and overwhelming force of nature that has everything inside of you feeling ruined beyond repair. He ruins you so gracefully, until you are warm and tight around his cock and all your troubles reduce into nothing. It makes him preen, his pretty baby - so fucking sweet around his cock. He wants to cum but he wants you to cum again, just one more time, just for him.
“Izuku, hngg, Izuku,” it comes out hazardous, a warning for what's next. All the lust and need and everything, all at fucking once. It’s an earthquake, the entire hurricane of everything crashing into you. Your whole body seizes, as you cum on his cock - wearily.
“Oh.. oh my fucking god,” and you cum, hard, right on his cock. He groans as he feels it, finally - the way it pulsates and holds onto him like it would hate to let go. He groans as he fucks into you with no will to stop, a little sloppier now.
“Fuck, fuck - you’re so tight. I’m gonna cum soon, wh-where do you,”
You clench down on him this time on purpose and he groans, falling forward and folding you completely in half. You blink at him, still feeling the waves of your own climax but egging him on anyway. You smile at him.
“Cum inside me, Izuku,” ― you whisper, voice hoarse with exhaustion ― “I’m gonna drain you for all your worth,”
The sound of your sultry voice sends him reeling, and in the last few minutes - he lets himself go. Fucking you so hard your headboard digs into your wall and cumming inside of you in what feels like seconds. He cums and cums and it fills you up so deeply. It makes your whole body shiver as you feel him unload - thick white hot streams pouring until there’s nothing left to give.
He collapses on top of you, completely breathless and half-way out of his mind. You feel his cock soften inside of you as you wrap your arms around his back and relax your legs. The two of you kiss like that for a long while, sharing soft glances in the dimness of your room. You’re exhausted but he seems fine, kissing all over your face and cheeks. You let him pamper you, giggling a little.
“It’s raining out.. can you hear it?,”
He nods, smiling at you.
“Do you like the rain?” he asks you. You shrug a little, smiling at him.
“I’ve always wanted to spend a day inside with someone I love, that’s all,” ― you hum ― “Kinda romantic right?”
His whole body feels weightless. This burden, this love, everything inside of him. All the parts of him he so slowly gives to you - there’s no way it wouldn’t feel romantic. He chuckles a little, staring at the window.
“Yeah… I think it’s romantic too,”
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izuukii · 2 months ago
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—𝐈 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐁𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 (𝐈𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐌𝐞)
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✩pairing: Yandere!Keigo Takami x Fem!Reader
✩genre :hurt/comfort, dark content, smut. 
✩word count: 10k
✩warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, manipulation, yandere, workplace bullying, avian keigo, stalking, kidnapping, violence (lightly, keigo hits reader to knock her out), stockholm syndrome, praise kink, fingering, body worship, mirror sex, face fucking, fem receiving oral, dacryphilia, overstimulation, unprotected sex.
✩authors note: shoutout to @jirou-s​ and @goreist for telling me not to scrap this. another shoutout to christine for beta reading it and to @wuhllow for beta reading it as well!! this is my longest one shot sdesrfghjk and i worked on this for two whole months and poured my heart and soul into it <3. title credit: ghosting by mother mother
He watches you walk around the roof; watches how fresh air seems to revive you. The way the wind bites at your cheeks and how you close your eyes and listen to the birds chirp. You rub your arms contentedly, as if to rub this feeling into your own soul. He stares as your chest rises and falls; the way you tilt your head towards the sun. You look like a painting. Flawless. A flower being revived by the sun's rays. You take your hand and bring it to your eyes, staring at the sunset in the distance; your breath hitching at the shades that splatter the sky. Brilliant shades of sherbert orange mixed with cotton candy pink. The way the clouds move slowly across it all and look like thin and pulled apart strands of cotton.
You look beautiful.
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Takami Keigo supposes that all things -before they grow into great, all consuming things that fill oceans and forests and take apart lives- start out incredibly small.
Some things grow slowly. Gently. Saplings that grow into cedar trees. Ponds that turn into lakes over time. Even how evolution works; small single celled organisms that turn into something much different with enough time. The best thing to him though -despite him reminding himself that not everything has to burn bright for it to be worthwhile- his favorite way to compare all things worth growing is fire.
He thinks worthwhile things start out like a small flame. Bright and slightly warm. To grow they take time. Pieces of kindling and proper environment is essential to creating a blaze that’s meant to last a while. Some places have had blazes burn years; fires that have destroyed towns and evicted people from their homes. Blazes that split apart asphalt and deemed cities unlivable.
His relationship with you starts out small enough. You asked him one morning how he likes his coffee. You always come in with that cheap coffee from gas station cappuccino machines. It’s sickly sweet; disgusting to most people but when he tells you he likes it at least as much as you, your eyes light up and you’re bringing him one every morning. You always set it on his desk, a large french vanilla brew. When you think he’s not looking you straighten out the paperwork strewn across his desk; place his pens in the porcelain chicken holder he has.
It builds up slowly; fire that's been added kindling that slowly grows into something more. You ask him if he wants lunch. You tell him it’s okay if he doesn’t want to eat with you, that you have no problem being alone. That you’re used to it. It makes him sad when he tells you he never has time. That the fastest hero around has to be able to do more than one thing at a time. But you’re ever so chipper about it; handing him a greasy bag of fast food with a smile that warms him down to his bones.
Your laugh is the highlight of his day. You always come in bright eyed and bushy tailed, smiling at him like he hung the moon in the sky -but if you ask him- he'd remind you that the moon only glows with light from the sun's reflection.
Soon enough he finds himself making time for you; letting sidekicks actually do some work so he can take a break. He started with a few minutes, Keigo carelessly throwing fries in his mouth while you jabber about anything and everything. He acts disinterested at first; trying to pretend he’s honoring you with his presence when really he’s the one lucky enough to be in your graces. You’re an angel flying in the heavens and he’s the devil trying to coax you from paradise. He doesn’t even think he deserves you honestly; not your time or your laughter or the sweet smile you’ve reserved for him. Not with how bright and warm you seem. Not with how you shine like the sun. He feels like the snake that slithered into Eden, and all he wants to do is taste you as he slowly corrupts you. He supposes he should feel bad; should feel terrible actually. Should feel like the devil himself for what he’s doing to you but he can’t find it in his sighing soul to care.
Soon a few minutes is turning into half an hour. Then into an hour. And even after his time is all used up your face is running circles in his mind; your laugh is ringing in his ears louder than the screaming of his internal monologue that tells him he should feel awful for what he’s doing to you, and he’s tracing your name in the air with a feather plucked from his wings. He starts looking forward to days at work; looks forward to the one hour a day you get his undivided attention. He’s learning so much about you too. You’re quirkless with a heavy admiration for heroes. You’re right handed. You stutter when you’re excited and snort when you laugh. You read constantly. You love horror movies despite being terrified of them. You tug on your earlobe when you’re embarrassed. Small and tiny things that make you, you.
And it’s just so strange to him, strange how the intern who he wouldn’t give a passing glance to if he passed her on the street, became the single most recurring thing in his thoughts. He thinks if it were anyone besides you, he’d manage to hate them more than he hates himself. But since it’s you -you with your kind smile and sweet laugh and tiny hands full of cheap coffee and greasy take out- he can’t find himself angry about it. Can only find himself grateful that it’s you. He feels like he’s going insane; feels like his mind is a galaxy with you in the center. You’re the true north on his compass, and every time he thinks of home it’s in your arms.
Today is the first day you break his heart, though. He never thought he’d see you cry, never thought the sight would make his chest feel too small for his lion heart. He’s not ever expecting you here, only showing up to the office to grab his keys he happened to forget on his desk. You’re clearly surprised by him, making a show of hastily wiping your eyes.
“H-Hawks,” you hiccup. You’re clearly embarrassed. You stand quickly, accidentally knocking over a stack of papers you were looking over. It’s obvious you didn’t anticipate seeing him here, and he wasn’t expecting to come into the office and see his favorite intern crying. You bend over and start picking them up and he crouches down to help you. “I-I’m sorry! I was just leaving.” You stand, your face still leaking tears as you straighten your skirt and reach for your bag.
Keigo holds his arms out, hands waving back and forth from the wrist in an attempt to tell you to slow down. “Hey! Hey, hey hey.” he places his hands on your shoulders, gives them a tight squeeze to reassure you and stares down at you with honey colored eyes. They remind you of old and peeling paintings along the wall of museums you used to visit; ancient and all knowing. Paintings that have seen more people than you ever will. “Take a deep breath, chickadee. Yeah? What’s the matter?”
“I-I haven’t told you about this.” you hiccup, twisting your hands together in front of you. “I just didn’t want to be seen as… as if I wasn’t strong enough to handle it. But the way the other interns treat me… they’re not….ah. They’re not kind. I understand that not everyone will like me, but I’ve had things from my locker stolen. They call me awful names and tease me. Talk about me as soon as I leave the room. Say you only like me because I’m a whore.” You laugh bitterly, wiping your eyes with the heels of your hand. “ I can’t help but feel like I deserve this somehow? Is there….” you pause, looking up at him with a shaking sigh. “Is there something wrong with me?” A fresh onslaught of tears falls down your face; tiny crystal reminders of the unfair treatment you’re receiving. Your voice wobbles as you speak again, and your words shoot an arrow through Keigo’s chest. “Am I a bad person?”
“No.” He breathes. His heart shatters a bit every time he hears your shaking breaths. He wants nothing more than to reach out to you, to be the one to put you back together. To be the one to tell you everythings gonna be fine at the end of a long day. It’s all anyone ever needs right? Someone to patch them up at the end of the day? And who else would be more perfect for this job than him? Who else would be more perfect than him to be the one person in the world you could trust? To be the one person in the world you call fall apart on, while he carefully takes your pieces and puts you back together again.
“I have never in my life...,” you say slowly, the words falling out of your mouth and taking up the space between you two. “...been more upset by my constant need to see the best in people. I thought they didn’t mean it. Thought I was making some sort of mistake until I walked in on the other interns talking badly about me.”
“I know how that feels.” he replies quietly, nodding his head along with you. “People can be incredibly disappointing.”
“Don’t you get tired of it?” you ask him, your voice wobbling with frustration. “The disappointment? How stupid you feel afterwards? Putting all your faith and love in the goodness of humanity just for it to be thrown in your face time and time again? I tried so hard to get these people to like me. And even if they don't, there's no reason to be unkind.”
He doesn’t know what to say to you; doesn’t know how to tell you he thinks the sun and moon rises because of you. Doesn’t know how to tell you he thinks the universe revolves around you. So he does the only thing he knows how to do; he takes his jacket off, places it on your shoulders and wraps his arms around you. You fall into him immediately; your hands fisting his shirt and the way your head fits perfectly under his chin. It’s like you were made to be here, perfectly molded to fit into his empty spaces. He knows it’s wrong to feel this way while you’re heartbroken, but he can’t help but feel glad you’re the one in his arms – despite the way you’re shaking like a leaf before a storm.
He supposes he should feel more guilty. He knew the interns weren’t kind to you. Small and quirkless thing you are, he already knew you’d be at a disadvantage. He might’ve made sure you were going to be close by when the other interns were saying nasty things about you and all the things they’ve stolen from your locker. But he can’t help it. He needs to do everything in his power to make sure this moment happens. Had to make sure you’d be falling apart in his arms and he’d be around to take care of you.
Keigo -being kind and generous at the core of who he is- walks you home that night. He tells you he can’t stand the idea of you walking home alone at night, not while you’re this upset. You smile at him in thanks, leading the way out of the building and to your apartment. It’s quite a walk, about a mile and a half there. He finds himself grateful it’s not in a terrible part of town.
When he comments on this you just laugh at him before explaining. “My parents always told me that living in the safest area you can afford is the most important thing.” There’s a far away look in your eye; bright and dreamy. “Ah… They passed away a little after I turned 18, but I think it’s good advice. I can’t go out to eat as much as I’d like, and I have to limit myself to one or two drinks when I go out, but I think it’s worth it, especially because I live alone.”
“You live alone?” He asks you. He tells himself he’s trying to learn more about you, but in reality he’s trying to figure out everything he can. Tries to convince himself his intentions aren’t malicious.
“Yeah,” you respond. “Why? Is...that a bad thing?”
“No, no!” he insists, looking over at you from the corner of his eye. “I’m just glad you’re staying safe.”
You grin at him, stopping suddenly in front of a building. You walk up the steps, keys in hand. “Thanks for walking me home.” you tell him softly, thick lashes covering your half lidded eyes.
He swallows thickly, fighting the urge to follow you inside. Fingers drumming against his thighs with barely constrained lust. “Course,” he chirps. “Anything for my favorite lunch partner.”
“Goodnight, Hawks!” you smile at him.
He tosses his head back at you as he walks down your front steps. “Goodnight!”
He’s been keeping his feathers all around the office now; hidden above doorways and tucked under seats. His sharp hearing isn’t quite cutting it anymore, and he needs to know everything that’s happening. He’s just looking out for you. He’s the only one around that can take care of you. The only one that knows your secrets and the small things about you that make you a person and your favorite color and favorite season and the exact way you like your coffee and your favorite books. His mark is on you know; it’s not something you can quite see or even know about but he’s bound and determined to be the one to take care of you.
That’s what he tells himself, at least. He probably didn’t need to hear the nitty gritty details of what people have done over the weekend; didn’t really need to know whose fucking who -even though the information is welcomed, he is nosy afterall- and definitely wasn’t supposed to hear about the date you conveniently didn’t tell him about.
He’s shocked for the rest of the day, his mind preoccupied as he wonders if he did something to upset you. You tell him everything. There’s no secrets between you two, and the thought of any makes him feel…. Strange. Like there’s a monster in his chest; something clawing and mean and full of different shades of green. Makes him feel sick to his stomach at the thought of someone getting in between you two. It makes him angry. That someone could ever come between you two. You’re his afterall.
He supposes he’ll have to make sure nothing could ever come between you.
When he shows up to where your date is supposed to be, he knows he’s doing you a favor. He can take you to restaurants way nicer to this; meals that cost the same amount as your monthly rent.
This date is going horribly. His hearing is sharp, sharper than most, but he doesn’t need that to know how badly it’s going. He can see how tense you look; your lips pressed into a thin line, eyes darting all over the restaurant. Your laugh doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
He’s thinking this date is boring. He’s thinking you’d probably like flying around the city; that there’s a yakitori place he’d bet you love. Maybe you’d even show him the inside of your apartment. And he can see for himself the way you organize your life; if you keep magazines on the counter or throw them away immediately. Do you bother to fold your laundry or do you live out of the basket instead? He finds himself interested in these things, wanting to know the small and mundane ways you fill up your life.
He wonders why you never bothered to ask him out. Maybe you thought it too unprofessional to date your boss. Maybe you were shy? Gave up before you even had the courage to ask. He tried to make it obvious he likes you, calling you his favorite intern and dedicating his lunch breaks to you.
Maybe you don’t like him at all.
He shakes his head at the thought. Can’t imagine that. You bring him coffee, tell him “I remember you liked this” about the small and insignificant things you bring him. Knitted scarves in his favorite shade of blue and tiny framed art of chickens to decorate his work desk.
He’ll just have to show you. You always want to see the best in people, and all he wants is to be good. It’s a match made in heaven as far as he’s concerned, and he’ll do everything he can to make you see that. Even if it means making a deal with the devil himself.
He perks up when you look at your phone and tell your date that work is calling you in. He knows that’s a lie; that you’re looking for a way to avoid playing out the rest of this date. He’s offering to walk you to the agency, and you’re smiling and telling him you’ll be fine and that it’s only a short walk away.
He’s telling you he really doesn’t mind and you’re gritting your teeth and saying that you really think you’ll be fine. He makes a comment about waiting for you at your place and it takes everything in Keigo not to rush him from across the restaurant. He sees your eyebrows raise and then pull together; watches you wipe your hands on your dress before you fiddle with the hem. You smile again at him, thin lipped and polite and tell him you don’t need it. You think he finally gets the hint, he lets you leave.
You leave the restaurant and Keigo stays behind for a moment, before he watches your date shake his head and stand up, walking like he’s on a mission after you. Keigo’s quick to follow him, settling into a pace behind him. The mans following you, and this is all the confirmation Keigo needed to confirm what he already knows: you’re helpless. And he’s never going to let you out of his sight again.
He grabs the man quietly, wrapping him in a chokehold and covering his mouth with the other. He leaves him in an alley, pinned to the wall of a building by Keigo’s feathers. He makes a quick text to Endeavor, letting him know there’s a present waiting for him before Keigo’s flying high in the air and searching for you again.
He’s always been too fast for his own good, and this fact is cemented when he makes it to your apartment before you do. He finds an awning a couple of stories up and sits there for a moment, scanning the area with sharp eyes. He can’t see you yet, can faintly hear your footsteps approaching. You sound slightly rushed, your keys jangling in your hand and heels making a light tap, tap, tap sound against the concrete. You’re in a good part of town though, you needn’t worry. Besides, he’s here to keep you safe. Always will be.
He’s not strong, he knows this. Knows he’ll only get one chance to make sure you’re out. Better make it count. He can’t risk having you scream.
He drops from the awning he’s sitting on, gets behind you and hits you with enough force to have you crumpling to the ground.
Maybe this will work out anyways.
This wasn’t part of his plan. He only showed up to watch. Didn’t really mean to do anything more than that but the look on your face; that desperate god-please-help-me look that was hiding just behind your eyes. He really couldn’t stand it; couldn’t really help it.
He’s a hero. He saw you in trouble. He decided to help. It’s what heroes do, right?
He’s trying to ignore the more rational voice in his head. He’s trying to ignore the voice in his head that tells him a bad date doesn’t equate danger, that you’re strong -despite being quirkless- and have the ability to turn down men yourself. But you just looked so heartbroken, so distraught. And really, you ought to have someone to look out for you and who better than Keigo?
You’re laying knocked out on his bed and he’s pacing back and forth wondering how on earth is he going to explain himself? He knew the date was going to go bad, knew that your kindhearted and trusting nature would surely land you in trouble. Who tells a guy they’ve never met their address anyways? Absolutely insane and Keigo’s definitely going to let you know as soon as you wake up.
Whenever the hell you wake up.
He’s hoping he didn’t hit you too hard. Hoping you don’t wake up with your head pounding too loudly. You’re rational, frustratingly so. He’s praying to every god he can name that you’ll see he’s good; see that he was just trying to help. He just wants to be good, he just wants you to see that.
He hears a small cry from your lips; watches your eyes flutter open, watches you take in the swirling designs on his ceiling and your hands twist into the sheets under you. He smiles down at you, excited. Feeling drunk and clumsy with joy as he watches recognition come across your face like a cloud. “H-hawks?”
“Hey, birdie.” He smiles at you. He crouches next to the bed, his elbows resting on the mattress and creating dips there. “How ya feelin?”
You grimace, tiny hand moving to shield your eyes; a groan escaping your perfectly parted lips. “Like I got bashed in the head…” you frown, realization settling onto your features. “Wait… I did get bashed in the head.” You sit up quickly, crying out grabbing your head. You look around. “This...this isn’t my apartment. This isn’t my bedroom. Why….? Where?”
“Shh…” he coos. “S’okay you’re at my place.”
“You…” you look confused for a moment, then betrayed; scrambling backwards on your hands away from him. “You hit me. You made me pass out.”
“It’s not like that.” His heart is in his throat. He feels like this is all falling apart.
“You bash my skull in and you’re telling me it’s not like that?” You laugh without humor. The sound is bitter; it’s not like the usual laugh you give him. It’s not ringing and musical and genuine. It’s full of glass edges and teeth. “You really have some nerve.” He backs away from you. He doesn’t want to believe what he’s hearing; doesn’t want to believe that you’d do this to him. That you’d throw rocks at the house he’s made for you. That you’d burn it all down with kerosene hands. “Let me go, Hawks.” You spit. Your tone is even. Dangerous.
“I-I can’t do that, dove.” He sighs, running a hand through honey colored locks.
“Are you shitting me?” You wail, tears welling up in your eyes. “You fuckin knocked me out and kidnapped me you fuckin’ freak!” You watch him turn away; watch him leave the room and lock it behind him.
He walks into the hall, sliding down the wall until he’s sitting on the floor. He sits on the floor, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his wings tight around his body. He doesn’t have the stomach to listen to you anymore.
He’s good, he’s good, he’s good. That’s all he wants to hear.
He thought time was what you needed. Maybe some space as well. You’re always asleep when he leaves for work. The plates of food he makes you before he goes to work are barely eaten. Mostly food just pushed around to make it look like you attempted to eat. He’s getting worried about you. He’s wondering if he’s made the right choice. He’s wondering if you’ll ever open up to him.
But he’s also kicking himself. He’s starting to regret this. He can’t just let you go at this point; can’t risk having his place as number 2 hero taken if you reveal what he’s done to you. He has orchestrated this from the beginning. You were always meant to be here. You just don’t understand that yet. He’s gonna do everything in his power to make you understand. He’s gonna do everything in his power to make you love him.
He’s good, he’s good, he’s good. He just has to show you that.
When he comes home from patrol at night -stepping into the bedroom to check in on you- there’s a subtle difference in your attitude. You don’t kick at him when he sits next to you, don’t threaten to claw his eyes out with those manicured nails of yours, don’t spit or hiss or cry when you see him. In fact, you look slightly defeated when your eyes meet his. You look away after a moment, instead resting your head in on your knees and looking out the window. He feels his heart break in his chest at the sight. He never intended to make you unhappy.
He looks over at you, twiddles his fingers in his hands for a moment before finally deciding to speak. “You know how we’re at the top floor?” He asks quietly.
You snort and roll your eyes, but your tone doesn’t have the same usual bitterness in it. “Yes, Hawks. I know.”
“Well,” he sighs. “There’s a garden up here.” He’s trying to sound nonchalant. He’s trying to make you interested.
“A garden?” You say the words slowly, scepticism lacing through your tone. Your eyes meet his; head tilting in interest; your knees falling from your chest. He can see you slowly opening up to him, like a flower in the spring. “Where?”
He shakes his head with a grin. “On the roof, silly.”
You lean forward slightly, a familiar light finding a home back in your eyes. “Can I see it?”
And how can he say no to you? Not when you’re looking at him like this. Not when you’re looking at him like he’s handing you the world on a silver platter. Like he’s the stars that stretch across the sky. “Of course.” He stands, listening to you patter behind him.
He walks down to the end of the hall, opens the skylight window and places a ladder underneath it. He turns to you. You’re at the end of the hall, looking around the corner into the living room. It sets him on edge for a moment; his feathers bristling and getting ready to run after you. But your form and the way you carry yourself is similar to a timid cat. Curious. Searching. He knows you’re smart. Knows that you know that there's no way you’d be able to outrun him. He clears his throat after a moment, watches your head snap towards him before you make your way back to him.
He gestures grandly at the ladder. “Ladies first.'' he chirps. He holds it steady for you as you climb up, averts his eyes away from your ass. He told himself long ago that you were never going to be his pet. Hence why you have your own room and he’s never touched you without consent. And you’ve never given it.
He watches you walk around the roof; watches how fresh air seems to revive you. The way the wind bites at your cheeks and how you close your eyes and listen to the birds chirp. You rub your arms contentedly, as if to rub this feeling into your own soul. He stares as your chest rises and falls; the way you tilt your head towards the sun. You look like a painting. Flawless. A flower being revived by the sun's rays. You take your hand and bring it to your eyes, staring at the sunset in the distance; your breath hitching at the shades that splatter the sky. Brilliant shades of sherbert orange mixed with cotton candy pink. The way the clouds move slowly across it all and look like thin and pulled apart strands of cotton.
You look beautiful.
You turn towards him when you hear Keigo clear his throat. Watch him wipe sweaty palms on his pants before shoving his hands into his pockets and taking leisurely strides towards you. He nods towards a collection of raised beds tucked into the corner of the roof. They’re wooden, nothing too fancy about them. You walk over to them immediately. Crouching down and inspecting them. “There’s a lot of dead plants in here.” You state plainly. “I’ll need somewhere to throw them away.”
He nods. “I can do that for ya.”
You purse your lips in thought. “Probably more potting soil too.”
He sucks in a breath, shakes his head lightly and rakes his fingers through his hair. “Gonna burn a hole in my wallet.”
“Oh no,” you tell him sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “You might have to forego take out a couple of times a week. Whatever will you do.”
“I’m kidding.” He responds quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll get you whatever you need.”
“Hawks,” you ask slowly, rocking back and forth on your heels, hands twisting in front of you. “Do you think you can bring home some flowers after patrol tomorrow too? Please?”
He feels his heart soar; like he’s got wings on more than one place on his body. He likes that way you say the word home. Like you’ve accepted that it's your place to be too. Like it’s not a cage to you anymore. Home was an open wound for him, until you came here to patch it all up. He smiles at you. “Anything for you, birdie.”
Maybe someday you’ll know he means every word.
Takami Keigo is disgusting when he gets home.
He’s surprised when you run up to greet him, eyes bright and shining. The expression on your face reminds him of when you would come up to him at the agency; gas station coffee in hand. Your nose crinkles as soon as you get close to him, turning your face away and covering your mouth with your hand. “You stink.”
He laughs, taking his boots off. “Yeah,” he nods. “Got knocked out of the sky and thrown into the mud.” He stretches his arms out, fanning the smell at you. “I’d like to see how good you’d smell if that happened to you.”
“That's so gross, Hawks.” You laugh, plugging your nose. “Why didn’t you shower at the agency?”
He shrugs, plucking an apple out of the bowl that sits on the kitchen island and taking a bite out of it. “Water pressure here is better.” he tells you. Not a lie, but not the reason he’s here. He just doesn’t like being away from you longer than he has to be.
You hum. It’s true to an extent, you realize. The shower here is massive; it has to be to accommodate Keigo’s wings. Multiple showerheads on all sides of it. It’s easily the best shower in the world. You can spend hours there. “How long will you be?” You don’t know what possesses you to ask the question. Maybe the constant solitude is starting to cloud your mind; making you think Keigo’s company is better than nothing.
He pauses for a moment, looks at you curiously. “N-not long.” He responds, tilting his head at you with a smile.
“Okay.” you grin, kicking your feet slightly. “I’ll wait for you.”
You’re sitting on the couch when he comes back out; a towel wrapped around his neck and sweatpants hanging loosely off his form. He sits next to you on the couch and you watch him take the towel around his neck and gently dry his feathers. You stare at him out of the corner of your eye; gaze flickering between the late night television show and the way Keigo’s hands move through his feathers nimbly. His eyes catch yours after a moment. He gives you a wink and a smirk.
“See something you like, dove?” You watch him wiggle his eyebrows at you. You kick him playfully. He gives you a mock wounded look. “Didn’t have to be so mean, damn.”
You laugh at him, tossing your head back and snorting. You look over at him again, titling your head slightly. “Do you want help?”
He makes a choking sound before sputtering at you, red creeping across his face. “What?”
You sigh at him, rolling your eyes. “Turn around.” You order gently, using your hand placed on his shoulder to gently force him to move. He does without much fight. He rests his legs over the armrest of the couch, as you start to work through his feathers. Taking your time to dry each one individually. You hear him make a small noise in his throat, watch his shoulder hunch as you get closer to his spine.
You tug one slightly too harsh. “Fuck!” He cries out, slapping his hand over his mouth.
You pull your hands away immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing.” He sighs as you resume your work. “They’re just sensitive, be careful.”
You make an affirmative noise in your throat, nodding at you understand - despite that he can’t see you - as your hands move to the other wing. “Do you think we can move to the floor?” You ask softly. “I can’t reach this other wing well.”
“You don’t really have to do this at all.” He states simply.
You pause, for a moment. Feeling strangely sad at the thought of Keigo not letting you take care of him. “I know.” You say. “I want to.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.” you hum. “I just want to.”
You hear him breathe out quietly, “Oh.” He stands and goes to the bedroom, coming back with a small pillow and a silk towel. “Come on,” he sighs, laying on the living room floor. “straddle my back.”
You hesitate. “What if I crush you?”
He snorts. “Dove, I promise you’re not gonna crush me. I’m the number two pro-hero and I throw around villains all day. What do you take me for?”
You settle on top of him, sitting low on his back, just before the curve of his ass starts. “If you insist.” He doesn’t even make a sound when you press your full weight onto him. You run your fingers through his feathers again; taking time to brush your fingers through them. You’re gentle as you rub the towel through each individual feather. You hum as you work, feeling Keigo vibrate underneath you. You suppose this is a good sign.
“How are the flowers doing?” he asks after some time. He’s quiet when he speaks, his voice barely louder than the tv.
He brought you flowers the other day. Just like you asked. Bright petunias in stunning shades of yellow and purple. Begonias in the rosiest shade of pink. The most gorgeous dahlias you’ve ever seen. He hasn’t gone up to see them since he brought them to you. You think it's his way of giving you space. “They’re doing well.” you respond, focusing intently on a mangled feather close to the root of his wings. “You should come up and see them.”
“Yeah?” He laughs. You can’t see his face, but it's bright in your mind. Eyebrows slightly cocked, corners of his lips upturned into a lazy half grin. “Hmmm...maybe I will.”
You smile at him, brushing your fingers through his feathers and admiring your handiwork. They’re a much brighter shade of crimson now that they’re dry; the shade of red you’re used to seeing. You like it. Makes him look normal. Makes him look the way you remembered him looking. He’s always been good at taking care of himself until you came around. You suppose you don’t mind picking up his slack.
“Hey, dove.” he says quietly, just as you start to stand up.
“Ah…” he starts. You can hear the nervousness in his voice; feel the way it radiates off of him. “My name… my name is Keigo.” He says it like it’s a secret, likes he’s not sure if it’s something he should tell you.
“Keigo.” you say slowly. You watch the way it makes his feathers bristle. See the goosebumps that pebble across his skin. “Okay, Keigo.”
He sits on his hind legs and looks at you. Ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He likes the way you say his name. He thinks he wants to hear it every day for the rest of his life. “Okay.”
“Keigo.” You sound hesitant when you speak; like a child asking their parents for something and worried they’re going to say no. “Can…” you twist your hands in your lap, refusing to look at him. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”
He doesn’t know what to say. He feels his heart pounding in his chest at your question. He almost wants to say no. He doesn’t think he could handle it, handle you so close to him. The vulnerability that comes with sharing a bed with someone. But he still finds himself nodding his head, not trusting his own voice to speak.
He leads you to his bedroom -it’s just across from yours- and you both change facing opposite directions from each other. His bed is high and large -much larger than any other you’ve seen. Plush and comfortable. Covered in layers and layers of blankets. Quilts and comforters all in different patterns and more pillows than one person could ever need.
“It’s like a nest.” You comment with a chuckle. He says nothing, just shrugs his shoulders and watches you climb in.
He doesn’t know why he feels so nervous when he lays next to you in his own bed. He lets his wings hang off the side of it, making sure you have plenty of room to stretch out. You’re so close to him, never been this close to him before. He can almost feel your breath fanning his face. It would be so easy to reach out and kiss you; so easy to bring his hand to your face and feel how soft your cheek would be against his calloused hand. It takes everything in him not to. He can see how you're shifting slightly, hears your legs rustle between the sheets and watches you bite your lip. He thinks you might break first. That you’ll lean in and close the gap between you both. But just as he thinks you’re going to break, you don't.
“Goodnight.” You whisper.
There’s something different today.
You woke up feeling strange. Feeling off centered and slightly off balance. There’s an odd sense of foreboding that's made a home in your bones. You can’t put your finger on it. It can’t be that you haven’t eaten because Keigo always makes sure you’re well fed before he leaves for patrol. It can’t be that the penthouse is too cold or that your socks don’t match or the fact that you forgot to turn the tv off before you went to sleep.
You stew all day. Sit in these sensations and feel like you’re being marinated in them until all you can think of is the peculiar feeling of bitterness. You don’t go onto the rooftop garden. You don’t make an extra cup of coffee. And you certainly don’t step foot out of the bedroom until you hear the sound of Keigo’s key pushing into the door; the musical sound of his boots clattering on the floor and leather gloves slapping onto the island countertop.
Usually, on normal days you go out to him. Greet him immediately at the door, rocking back and forth on your heels and watch the sun that filters through the blinds reflect on his wheat colored hair. The rays of light hitting his eyes so perfectly they resemble two pots of glowing honey. The light dusting of red across his cheeks from the cold wind biting at his cheeks. The lazy smile that he gives you when he sees you running towards him. Something soft and private that’s been reserved for you since lunch break rendezvous.
But today, there’s something that keeps you grounded to your bed. Today you feel like you’ve rotted here, like you’ve sprouted roots and have been forced to stay where you are. You hear Keigo walk towards the bedroom; hear a heavy sigh escape his lips and can almost feel the dark cloud hanging over him. Thick and rolling and looming; something that suffocates the air around you before you even see him.
You look up and he’s leaning on the doorframe, staring at you with eyes full of sadness and pain. You smile at him, bright and genuine and kind. You pat a spot on the bed next to you; beckoning him to come forward. A silent way of saying hey I missed you, come talk to me, and I’m glad you’re here. He comes forward as soon as you invite him. Sitting next to you on the bed with elbows propped on his knees. It seems like he’s aged since he left this morning. He looks years older. You can’t help but worry if it’s you. Can’t help but wonder if you’re the reason he’s aging like fruit on the kitchen island; if you’ll be the reason his hair goes grey before he hits 30.
“They….asked me to do something I don’t want to do today.” He tells you after some time. He’s quiet when he speaks; barely louder than the wind that rustles through the leaves of trees.
You don’t have to ask who the they he’s speaking about is. You know who they are. You tuck your knees to your chest, inspecting him. “What are you going to do?”
“What they tell me to do.” He answers simply. “What else am I supposed to do?”
“We could run away.” You offer. You know it's naive as soon as the words fall from your lips. Know it’s a dream that’ll never find its way to your greedy hands, but you couldn’t help yourself from uttering it.
You watch Keigo smile at you. It’s not the usual ones he gives you. Not the ones with soft edges and bright eyes; or the ones that stretch across his face when he sees you’ve eaten all of your breakfast. It’s not the smile he gives you when you’ve cracked a joke that managed to make him laugh, or the one he gives you when he watches you jump at horror movies. This is a smile full of water; a smile he’s giving to someone who simply doesn’t know any better. You’re not naive, both of you know this. Keigo doesn’t have it in his heart to pretend you are today. “S’not that easy, love.”
You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. Just fumble with a loose string on your comforter. You watch him lay back on the bed, his wings hanging off the side of it; stretching before they fold closer to him. A metaphorical shield around his hummingbird heart. You lay down next to him, so close your noses almost touch. You reach out hesitantly, bring your index finger to trace down the bridge of his nose. You hear his breath catch in his throat; hear coos come from somewhere deep in his chest and watch his wings relax. You bring your hand to his brow bone, running your thumbs over it before settling your hands over the apples of his cheeks. He sighs softly, nuzzles his nose gently into your touch. He brings his hand over yours, stroking your knuckles with a featherlight touch.
His hand is so soft. You supposed the gloves he always wears helps with that. His fingers are long, nimble. Fingernails are perfectly trimmed. You meet his eyes; stunning honey color almost swallowed whole by his dilated pupils until all that’s left is a thin ring of amber.
There’s something strange that happens in your chest when you see the first crystal-like tear fall from his eye. It makes your heart feel too big for your ribcage; makes you feel like the world is collapsing around you. It’s so odd to feel such heartbreak for someone like this, an overwhelming feeling overtaking you. Like a thief in the night you swore had claws and teeth, but now you see it it’s really it was never a beast but a tender heart that was looking for a hand to hold.
You love him. When did you start to love him so much?
When did his touch become the thing that made the world feel real? If you think about it, your definition of beautiful has become the sight of Keigo handing you scrambled eggs in the morning; the way his mouth quirks into a lopsided smile when he hears you talk about whatever you learned today. When did love become as simple as his hand finding yours after a nightmare; your body gravitating towards him, your shoes next to his boots. The sound the pads of your feet make when you rush towards him and the beam he gives you in exchange. The sound of his key clumsily unlocking the door to the penthouse becoming your favorite song.
You grab him tightly, feel his arms instinctively wrap around your middle as his body shakes with sobs. You feel his hands grip onto you with a bruising force, the way he buries his head into your core impossibly deeper. As if he’s trying to build a nest in your ribcage. Build a house and live in your heart forever.
Through the glass of his shattered heart he manages to speak. A quiet and broken sound full of desperate pleas. “Do you think I’m good?”
You don’t quite register the question at first. Your heart is still too full of the realization that you love him, you love him, you love him. Nothing else matters, and nothing ever did until this moment. Keigo is the stardust that is breathed into your lungs; the center of your universe. He sits in a red room deep in your heart and lives there. You run your fingers through his hair; feel the softness of it between your fingers. “Kei,” you whisper. “Kei, you’re so, so good.” You feel his body shake with sobs; feel his hands wrap around you impossibly tighter.
You hear him speak up; slightly muffled from being buried into your core. The heat of his breath makes your shirt slightly damp and stick to your stomach. “You do?” he asks. Like he can’t believe it. Like he wasn’t ever expecting you to say he is good.
He’s good, he’s good, he’s good.
And you love him for it.
You nod, making an affirmative noise in your throat. “Of course, Keigo. You take such good care of me.” you take a deep breath, feeling the words you want to say rise in your throat. You add on quietly, half hoping he doesn’t hear you but knowing he will. “And I love you.”
He pulls away from you, looks at you with eyes narrow and skeptical. He can’t hear this. Can’t hear you admit that you love a broken man. “What did you say?”
You swallow thickly. “I said I love you, Kei.”
You kiss him then, long and slow. Dragging it out like a Sunday afternoon. You can taste his chapstick; sweet and watermelon. You think, somewhere deep inside you, that he’s probably always putting it on. The wind probably chafes his lips. He places his hand on your neck; thumb reaching up and brushing against your chin. He deepens the kiss, his tongue finding a way into the cavern of your mouth. Tentative and exploring. His body hovers over you; both of his arms caging you in, his wings hanging off either side of you and shielding you. It’s like they’ve made their own little world where only you two exist. Somewhere cozy. Somewhere where neither one of you can get hurt. Where the Hero Commission doesn’t exist and paperwork disappears and no one cares if you have a quirk or not.
He breaks away after a moment; his eyes dark with lust as he looks at you through thick blonde lashes. He runs his thumb across your bottom lip, before taking it between his teeth and sucking on it; you can feel his sharp canines prick at your skin. His hand moves down your sides; featherlight and tracing your figure before he grabs your waist in a bruising grip. He pulls away from your lips, placing nips and kisses along your jaw. Moving down your neck and rewarding your gasps and whimpers with more.
“Did you mean it?” He whines into your ear; breath hot on your cheek. “When…. When you said you loved me?” His eyes search yours, looking for any sign of betrayal in your eyes. He looks scared. Desperate and hungry. Like you’re a dream he’s trying to hold on to.
You bring his hand up to his cheek, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Of course.”
You love him. You think he’s good. It’s all he’s ever wanted.
He pins you underneath him, his hands touching you everywhere he can. He’s needy, grasping and grabbing at anywhere he can reach; the fat of your thighs, the skin of your elbows, the space where your spine meets your pelvis. He’s exploring you. Taking time to memorize everything he can about you as if you’ll disappear. You gasp at his touch, never remembering a time where anyone’s ever touched you so softly.
He grabs you suddenly, bringing you to his lap with your back against his chest, sitting at the edge of the bed. You’re face to face with the mirror that’s on his closet door. It's big, one of the first things you noticed when you came in here all those weeks ago; it spans the entire closet and gives you a view of the entire room.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers against your cheek. You watch him lift your skirt up, take a large hand and push your panties to the side. “D’ya know that?” He hooks his arm underneath your leg, spreading your pussy apart so you’re on full display in the mirror. You gasp when you watch him dip a finger in; toes curling at the sensation. You try to look away but he slaps your pinches your clit. “Don’t you dare look away.” He moans, dark and menacing. There’s a threat he won’t voice hanging off the end of his sentence. You make eye contact with him in the mirror, watch his eyes grow darker with lust and feel the growing hardness between his legs. You whine when he places another finger inside, dragging his thumb across your clit. “Does it feel good?” he asks quietly. All you can do is nod. He stops moving immediately, breathing against your ear again. “I asked you a question, dove. Use your words.”
You manage to speak; to say the pretty words sitting so thickly in your throat. “Y-yes.” you gasp as he brushes against your g-spot. “So good, Kei.”
He hums from somewhere deep in his chest. “Good girl, and who's making you feel this good?”
“You, Keigo.” you whine.
“Yeah?” he chuckles, nipping at your earlobe. “You’re making such a mess all over my pants. Gonna cum for me, baby?” He knows you’re going to, can hear your wetness ringing so loudly in his ears and feel your cunt clenching around his fingers. He’s getting desperate for it; rutting his hips slightly and grinding into your ass. The moans and sighs you’re making make his cock grow heavier and heavier against his thigh.
“Ngh- Kei!” you whine. “M’gonna cum please can I cum?”
“Are you asking permission?” he asks breathlessly. “Good fuckin girl. Yeah baby cum for me.” You gush around his fingers immediately, soaking him down to the wrist as you come undone for him. He watches your leg kick out slightly, toes curling around nothing as you throw your head back to the ceiling and cry out. He rides your orgasm out perfectly, pace never faltering until you stop clamping and squeezing around his fingers.
He pulls his fingers out of you when you’re done, gently prodding them into your mouth. He feels your tongue wrap around them, dutifully cleaning them off. The sight of it makes him hiss, muttering under his breath how good you are for him, how perfect. That he can’t wait to give you his cock. He presses down on your tongue, listening to you gag around them until you’re gasping and sputtering.
You move your head away from him, turning towards him as well as you can. “Please, Kei.” you mumble shyly, not daring to look at him. “Wanna make you feel good.”
“That so, dove?” He cocks an eyebrow at you. He moves you so you’re straddling him, gently using his hand to hold your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his. “Use your words.”
“Wanna…” you feel shy as he looks at you, so small. The words sit thickly in your throat before you finally get the courage to speak. “Wanna make you feel good. Wanna suck your cock, Keigo. Can I, please?”
He doesn’t say anything, just nods his head. He watches you sink onto your knees, tiny hands trembling as you slowly coax his hero costume off of him. His cock springs out of his pants freely, rock hard and slapping against his stomach. You admire it for a moment, noticing how pretty it is. Long and thin with veins running down the sides; pretty pink tip with a pearl of pre sitting just on it. You give the tip a kitten lick before your lips are placed around it. He hisses in pleasure at the feeling; loving how warm and wet your mouth feels around him and involuntarily bucking his hips deeper into your mouth. He whines when he feels your throat close around him, gasping at how well you’re taking him despite the tears streaking down your face.
His hand finds its way to your head, letting you adjust before he’s roughly pushing and pulling you up and down his length; loving the crystal tears that fall from your eyes and the soft, muffled gags coming from your mouth. Throwing his head back in pleasure. He’s been reduced to a mess by you, the only words coming from his mouth are praises of how good you are. How perfect your mouth feels around him. How much he loves you.
He pulls you off of him suddenly, grabbing you effortlessly and throwing you on the bed so that you’re laying on your back.
“Wanna taste you too,” he whispers into your ear. “Wanna make you cum again f’me.”
He’s ruthless when he tears your clothing off, tossing your dress and panties away like they’re useless scraps. He dives into your pussy like a man starved, not caring about your cries of overstimulation or the way you kick your feet slightly and try to wiggle out from underneath him. His hands find purchase on the meat of your thighs, pinning you against the sheets while your fingers tangle into his golden locks.
“S’too much, Kei.” You cry, tears falling down your face, toes curling into the sheets and breaths coming in short pants.
“You can do it,” he coos into your cunt, going back to tracing circles around your clit and filling the room with wet noises. He runs his tongue through your folds, groaning at the feeling of your thighs tightening and trembling around his head. “I know you can, love. You can do it for me.” You keen when he dips into your entrance teasingly, back arching off the bed. You feel a familiar heat wash over you; the coil in your stomach tightening and threatening to wash over you. You cum again for him, thinking it was impossible and finding yourself shocked at the feeling. Whining from overstimulation before he finally pulls off of you.
He lines his cock up with your entrance and you watch him ease himself into you; brows furrowed in concentration, listening to him whine at the feeling of your pussy clamping around his dick; crashing into you over and over again as you bask in the glow of his love for you. The way his hand instinctively grips onto yours as if you’re a lifeline for him; like if he lets go he’ll drift off into a sea of emptiness and you’ll both drown together. It’s beautiful to you for a moment; the galaxies forming with your breaths and the stardust collecting in your eyes; a desperate and palpable neediness forming between you both.
He is the void that stretches on and on and you are the stars that decorate it.
There is an entire universe behind your pupils and God does he wish to be the one to discover all the stars that live there. When you come undone for him again it’s like the angels are singing; sweet moans escaping your lips that sound more beautiful than anything he’s ever heard. He wishes he could always have this.
You deserve the entire world, and Keigo will do everything in his power to give it to you. You were a lamb sent to be slaughtered by him, but you can’t find it in your heart to be mad at the sight of your blood on his hands. It’s a strange sensation; knowing everything about this relationship started out so wrong but now it feels like it’s the piece you’ve always been missing. You’re a stained glass window looking at the world, and it was Keigo’s hands that have put you together. Placed you in a temple and became your most loyal worshipper.
He hooks his arms underneath your legs and shoves them up to your ears, muttering under his breath how he wants to fill you up; how he wants to make you a mommy. Give you something to do and someone to take care of when he’s away from you on long missions. You don’t say anything, tongue lolling and heavier than lead in your mouth, too fucked out and dumb from the feeling of his cock dragging against your velvet walls.
“I love you,” he gasps as his hips stutter and lose rhythm. “I love you, I love you, I fucking love you.”
You’re safe and warm in Keigo’s arms and he can’t help but feel his chest tighten at the feeling. Can’t help the way his heart feels too big for his ribcage. Taking up all his space and barely leaving room for you.
“I’ll have to go away on a mission soon.” He tells you quietly, muttering the words into your hair. “What am I gonna do without you?”
You sigh, unburying your face from his chest and looking at him. He looks scared. Helpless. The world has not been kind to Keigo. You decide you will always be kind to him. “I dunno.” you tell him honestly. “We have here and now, though. We’ll worry about the rest later.”
When did you become the one that comforts him, he wonders. When did you become the sole reason he can get up everyday; the source of the smile on his face. When did your laugh become the sweetest thing he’s ever heard? He’s trying to remember the exact moment. He’s known he’s loved you since he first saw you walk into his agency; but now he’s wondering about the complexities of it. The nitty gritty details of it all. When did the tiny flame of his feelings become so blinding?
He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.
He will love you tomorrow, just like he loved you yesterday and just like how he loves you today. He’ll love you next week, and next year. Just like he loves you in the mornings before you rub the sleep out of your eyes, and just like he loves you in the evenings when you can barely keep them open. He loves you when the sun is grazing against your skin and he loves you when the moon is cascading a pale blue light over your features. Everything about you brings him back to life.
He supposes for now that it’s enough.
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sunnyfunerals · a month ago
Dabi x reader in squid game where Dabi is a masked guy and reader is a player 👀
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Squid Game AU - Masked Guy!Dabi x Player!Reader
Squid Game AU Masterlist
TW: Slight spoilers for the nature of the 5th game, Mentions of Murder and Violence (in the context of the games), Smut.
If the masked guys are all the same, there's one you can't help but recognize, simply because he's always there, watching.
If the masked guys are all the same, there's one you always recognize.
He's one of the more powerful ones. You know that because it's not a circle or a triangle adorning his face, but a square, and you sometimes hear him barking orders to others, nameless workers wearing different shapes that put them below him by the rule of their weird hierarchy.
Circle, triangle, square.
There are not many occasions for staff and players to meet, and yet he seems to take every opportunity to do so, if only, maybe, to get close to you. When someone dies and he comes into the dorm to assess their passing, he makes sure to walk close enough to you that his gloved fingers brush against yours. Another time, his hand discreetly creeps higher until it rests on your ass and tears a quiet yelp from your lips while the players are given their dinner and you're waiting on the side. You can almost hear an amused scoff escape the confines of his mask then.
But he doesn't have a name, doesn't have a face.
Still, he's always watching, whenever he's around, and you start watching him, too. Wondering what kind of expression he's hiding under the black metal, thinking about the color of his eyes. Brown? Green? You have a feeling they might be blue, but you might be wrong. Who knows, after all?
He kills, and kills, and kills, and yet you simply watch.
You feel less like a nameless player, like a random number in a murder game when his gaze is focused on you. And it's nice, in a way, to know that there is still someone who might remember you even if you lose the game. You wonder if he'd be especially careful when wrapping up your corpse.
The very thought is disgusting, and it keeps you awake at night, horror pooling in your gut, fear coating your throat and making it hard to breathe.
"I need to go to the bathroom," you say one night when you can't bear it anymore, knocking on the tall door leading towards the hallway.
Others have struggled with such a demand before you; you've seen it happen a few times. That lady who had to shout and scream for someone to pay attention to her and allow her the permission to go relieve herself.
But not you.
The door opens less than a second later, and he's there.
He leads you towards the bathroom, a few corridors away. You expect him to wait for you outside, but instead, he enters right behind you, closing the door before leaning against it, arms crossed in front of his strong chest.
It's as if his demeanor changes then, and you know he's smirking behind his mask.
"There are no cameras here, angel," he tells you. You've heard his voice before, but this time it's lower, deeper. It brings shivers running down your spine. "I have to be here to make sure you don't try anything stupid."
He says it as if he wished you'd do exactly that. Something stupid.
And of course, that's what you do.
"Can I see your face?" you ask.
Silence fills the room, and you bite your lower lip.
"Since there are no cameras, I thought..."
He doesn't reply. Instead, his gloved hand rises to his face, taking a hold of his mask. Pulling it off, until it falls to the ground with a clang.
He has the prettiest eyes you've ever seen. And you were right, they're blue. The beautiful blue of the sky in summer, of those blueberry sorbets you like, of cold, merciless ice. Strands of black hair fall gracefully in front of his scarred face, and, as expected, a smirk pulls at his lips as he stares at you.
Eyes hungry, famished, devouring everything in their way.
"Like what you see?" he asks and he blinks, the slightest bit surprised, when you nod.
"I do."
Silence hangs over the room once again, only troubled by the sound of water dripping in one of the stalls, somewhere further in the room. The nameless man watches you again, carefully, and it feels weird to be able to really, truly watch him back.
You can't say that you're not enjoying it.
"Come here," he says, in the same tone he uses in the games. Strict, cold, merciless.
But you're not scared when you walk up to him and he raises gloved palms to your cheeks, cradling your face in the same hands he used to kill, kill, and kill again, right before having his underlings wrap up the corpses in pretty present boxes.
You don't think about the dead when he leans towards you to pull you into a burning kiss.
And you don't think about the blood he spilled when his hand slips under your shirt and rises, brushing against your skin until he starts playing with your breasts through the thick fabric of his gloves.
The action tears a surprised moan from you, and he laughs against your lips, mean, cruel, monster of a man and yet so warm and gentle when his tongue slids inside your mouth to toy with yours. It isn't long before he pulls at the hem of your pants until they're lying on the dirty bathroom floor, and he uses both hands then when placing them under your thighs to carry you towards a sink so that he can play with you at will as you sit there, the perfect height for him to feast on your lips.
You don't even notice him stealing your panties, slipping them in the pocket of his uniform to use them later, when you're not around.
For now, you are around, though, and his takes off one of his gloves using his teeth, slowly, never breaking eye contact with you as he does so, delighting in your expression because you know what's coming next.
"You've been feeling lonely in these dorms, haven't you, baby?" he asks, ever so condescending. "Tell me what you need, and I might just give it to you. Anything for our dear players, after all."
You might be a player but he's the one playing with you as his fingers hover over your clit, never touching it, waiting for you to give in.
And you do, you do, you do.
"Please, touch me, S-sir..."
You don't know his name but the title has him go feral and he attacks you, cruel and merciless in the way he makes you come undone under his touch, leaving a trail of kisses along your throat as you cry in pleasure, tears rolling down your cheeks and mind too blurry to mutter anything but please.
"Want you, want your cock, Sir, please, please..."
Maybe it's the despair, maybe it's the loneliness at this point, and you know you shouldn't crave for the very person who murdered every single friend you made in this god-forsaken place, for the very person who wouldn't hesitate to raise a gun to your forehead and shoot, but yet you do, and it's as excruciating as it feels exquisite.
He unzips his red outfit, revealing his strong, scarred chest right beneath, and the fabric falls over his hips until he pulls it down just a bit lower along with his underwear to free his aching cock. It stands proud against his stomach, little pearl of precum on top faintly gleaming in the weak lights of the bathroom, but you don't get to stare for long.
A second later, the tip brushes against your folds, and inside it goes.
It feels huge between your walls, and the man laughs when it tears a muffled scream from your lips. His hand rises to your forehead and he pushes away a strand that stuck to the clammy skin there, his gesture almost kind, gentle.
"I'm going to take real good care of you, number 022," he says, softly kissing the shape of your jaw.
And he does.
His rough strokes inside you have you come undone around him twice more before he paints your walls white, cumming with a low, deep groan that you wouldn't have expected from the cold leader of the Squid Game's Masked Staff.
Later, when you put your sweats back on (without your panties - you can't find them anywhere), he stares at you again, his gaze on you now a familiar feeling that you've come to yearn for.
"Tomorrow's game," he says. "Glass panels. Left, left, right, left, right, right and left again."
You freeze, eyes darting all around the room, searching for cameras, mikes, anything.
"Y-you can't do that. The last people who helped a player got executed."
He laughs, as if the very thought was ridiculous, but he still ruffles your hair, amused like a pet owner laughing at a cute mistake their kitten just made.
"Good that I'm not like the others then, Angel, and you're too pretty to kill. Think of it as another debt, alright? I'll claim it once you win and..."
He leans towards you, menacing, until his breath tickles the skin of your throat as he whispers in your ear.
"It's not money you'll need to pay me back."
Please tell me if you liked it ♡
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tteokdoroki · a month ago
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ৎ୭ synopsis. kirishima hates the way his friends talk about his step-sister— he knows that you’re hot, knows that you’re filthy, but only he gets to see the dirty sides of you and his friends will just have to sit this one out.
ৎ୭ wc. 4174.
ৎ୭ genre. mdni, 18+, smut, dark content, college!au.
ৎ୭ cw. please read ! heavy smut, characters aged up to twenties, fem + switch!reader, step brother!kirishima, humiliation!kink, slight!impact play, consensual non-consent, step-cest, overstimulation, dom-sub relationships, handjobs, forced orgasm, tummy bulges, voyeurism, unprotected sex. not proof read, beware of errors.
ৎ୭ author’s note. happy friday everyone, i hope you had a great week! welcome to my second kinktober installment! this time ‘m providing some good ol eijirou content and i love the dialogue in this, enjoy my loves!
ৎ୭ now playing. naked - doja cat.
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in the last of the september heat, bleeding into the october months— the aircon in sero’s car does nothing to combat the heavy humid air outside. kirishima wipes his brow, barely suppressing giggles as he listens along to one of bakugou’s stories from their trip to the mall, something about denki fucking up his flirting with the girl from the smoothie bar— the entire plot’s barely heard over the boys’ obnoxious laugher and the running of the engine as sero keeps them parked in the driveway to the red head’s house.
“it’s not like you’re any better kacchan,” the electric blonde cries, tired from catching heat from his friends— being the one they point at for shits and giggles. kaminari accusingly points his fingers to his explosive companion buckled in, to his right, bakugou having stopped slurping on his smoothie, straw caught between his pointed teeth.
the ashier blonde raises a brow, the other boys in the front seats going silent. “hah? whatcha talkin’ about shitstick?” bakugou growls, turning his nose up.
“you couldn’t even tell that the goth kid, yanno izuku? was practically drooling over you at the checkout in hot topic— you two have been going at it for months!” kaminari snaps back, flinching away when bakugou threatens to throw his hands around the latter’s neck. the car erupts into body-shaking laughter once more, the jeep belonging to sero, rattling from how rowdy it gets.
however it quietens down considerably when the man in question lets out a low whistle. the boys all turn their heads to get a glimpse at what the hanta had been catcalling; kirishima included. in that moment, you could have compared the four of them to dogs after water on a hot day— four sets of eyes bulging out of skulls at the sight of you walking over the driveway with your step-dad’s dog on a tight leash. in the heat of the sun blaring above, kirishima can’t help but notice how you’ve stripped down to basically nothing— breasts spilling over your tight pink tank top and shorts cut so high that your fleshy cheeks peek out of the bottom of the fabric with every step you take. your skin shines like rare diamonds and gems in the sunlight— glowing from it’s golden rays with gentle perspiration.
you’re his step-sister, a walking fucking sin, and eijirou kirishima can’t tell if that makes you angel from up above or an succubus right from down below.
“hi miss yn,” the squad of boys call in chorus, sleazy gazes darting over your form as you head up to the front door in a light jog to keep up with your kirishima’s dad’s pup. it’s a tiny thing that’s faster than it looks, barking like nobody’s business to get inside for some cool shade.
you pass the car, only turning back to wink at your step-brother’s little friends— deciding to play into their antics as you bite your glossed lip between your teeth, waving back at them while you unlock the door for the dog. “hiya boys,” you coo almost sickly sweetly, batting your eyelashes as the pack of boys stare at you with puppy love struck eyes. “been good today? looked after my eiji for me?”
“yes ma’am!” denki shouts from his seat, although he’s half out of the window—chest heaving and dick pulsing from just how fucking sweet you are. once he slips back inside, he turns to kirishima in the front seat. “god, i know i say this every time we swing round but...dude, your sister’s hot.”
the heavy emphasis on hot makes the red head groan, turning back into his seat with flushed skin and his lip between his pointed teeth. it’s not that kirishima didn’t know you were hot, god only knew how hard he tried to put up with your heavenly level of attractiveness everyday— no, it’s just that your family relationship made things complicated. you were everything a guy could want in a girl, good with parents, good grades in your senior year at college and even better career prospects, not to mention your looks crafted by the gods. you were exactly kirishima’s type, the only thing stopping him from going after you was the dinner your mother hosted one friday night— announcing her engagement to his dad.
becoming your little step-brother only meant you were off limits to kirishima. he could only watch you from afar, think about you in his dreams— whisper your name into freshly washed sheets from your mom every time he fucked his cock the memory of your breasts squished together while you leaned over the table at dinner.
it was living hell for eijirou.
“fuck…” bakugou swears hoarsely, watching the curve of your ass intently as you reach down to pick up your step-dad’s excited puppy— pulling poor eijirou from his train of thought. “yanno, if that was my sister she’d never fucking get off my cock. dunno how you haven’t fucked her yet.”
instantly, the blushing redhead turns around, eyes flaming as bright as his cheeks as he chucks a bunch of napkins from the glove compartment at his friend. “shut up, she’ll hear you,” kirishima whines through the horny hoots of his friendship group, desperately trying to shut them up. “she’s not even my real sister, she’s my step-sister! m-my dad married her mom! t-there’s a difference! so stop making it weird!” he cries out.
sero speaks next, eyes hooded and sleazy as he watches you too. “that’s even better buddy! it’d totally be less weird if you’d stuck it up her ass then…” he pauses, taking his sunglasses between his teeth as if he’s imaging bending you over and fucking you hard. “you think she’d like that man? let me put it up her juicy, fat ass? good god.” the car erupts with howling and barking noises— four horny basterds thinking of all the ways to ruin kirishima’s older step sister.
“guys!” eijirou begs, pleads whatever upper power there is that you don’t hear how his friends talk about you, shame burning beneath his skin. “shut the fuck up, that’s my step-sister! you’re being fucking weird, immature even.”
kaminari cuts in next. “ah, ah ahhh— step sister, remember? you’re not even blood related!” he leans forward to jab a finger between kirishima’s eyes. “so you can’t get mad at me for wanting to fuck yn like the dirty slut i know she is—“
hands slam down harshly on the dashboard, making all three of kirishima’s friends jump and pull their eyes away from your bouncing breasts and the soft globes of your bottom. “stop it,” he scolds, red eyes glaring at the three other pairs. “you guys are bein’ fucking disgusting. yn is my step-fucking-sister, some chick living in my house ‘cause my dad married her mom. she’s not even hot, she’s probably more annoying that she is attractive. i’ll never see her that way. so just shut up!” eijirou finishes with a curse, jumping out of the car without another word and storming into the house after you— knowing his friends would follow.
he’d rendered them silent for the time being, without a clue that you’d been listening in— which would only make poor eijirou kirishima wish you hadn’t.
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kirishima feels his back hit the fridge door before he sees you coming— a shocked whimper laying flat on the seam of his lips.
sero, bakugou and kaminari had long snuck upstairs, apologising to their friend by letting him pick whatever stupid game he wanted to play on the switch next. he’d only headed downstairs to grab a couple snacks for the rowdy bunch thudding around in his room when you’d cornered kirishima in the kitchen— ready to teach him a lesson.
“oh? so all of this finds me annoying, right?” your eyes are menacing, holding a darker form of lust than the redhead is usual as your smaller-than-his hands force their way down eijirou’s loose fitting basketball shorts. you grip the base of his hardening cock, squeezing it tight to make your poor step-brother choke on a moan. “i’m just your step sister, eiji? how disappointing.”
soft fingers slide up and down eijirou’s fat girth—pressing on the sensitive forked vein on his underside in a way that makes him shudder, tip already leaking an embarrassing amount for someone who’s only just been touched. “t-thats not true, i only want you, always want you—fuck, yn wait...” he whimpers, ruby gem eyes locked away as he hisses through sharp gritted teeth. but there was truth to his words, the only person he’d ever craved like this, with the insatiable burning deep in his chest— pumping diaphragm sending smoke up into his lungs— was you. ever since you’d caught kirishima jerking off to the lewd pictures he’d sneakily taken of you over the summer break— the ones he’d zoomed in and screenshot from your snap stories and instagram— you’d made it a silent rule that you were the only one allowed to see him like that.
touch him like that.
it didn’t matter who he was dating, what girl he’d brought back from college for family holidays.
eijirou kirishima would end up with his back against your sheets, your hand on his cock with the words ‘this has to stop, sis,’ moaned out into the night air.
“oh eiji, my precious little brother...almost forgot how nasty you are,” you coo all but gently, your tone is sinister and laced with feral desire. your thumb digs into your step-brother’s tip to spread his arousal over his bright and angry red tip, other hand tugging his shorts down so his dick can slap freely against his toned stomach— standing at full attention. eijirou throbs with need, cock angry and aroused and begging for more of your touch as you spit down on him— using your soft palm to coat his length in a slutty mixture of spit and pre. “y’cock’s so hard, is this really all for your big sister?”
he feels pathetic when you call him that. your little brother. made to feel small even though he towers over you— sweaty mop of dyed red hair and black roots lazily dropping to your neck as you jerk him off, the sticky of his own dick sounds rattling off kitchen counters and causing his libido to bubble brightly in his lower stomach.
“s-step-sister! you’re my step-sister,”
your eyes roll before growing hooded, pushing kirishima further up against the fridge and squeezing the base of his dick as his own arousal drips down to his heavy bores—sore with cum. “isn’t that better though? makes you a little less nasty for you letting me play with you like this baby brother,” your voice lowers, fogging up your step brother’s brain, sending crackles of pleasure across it. “you should be ashamed.”
of course he is, eyes stinging with embarrassed tears and cheeks as red as his hair— a needy sob leaves kirishima, his hips bucking into your soft palm as it brushes against the bold and blue vein throbbing on his cock. “please, please s-stop…” eijirou hiccups, chest burning with a new wave of tears. “f-fuck! you feel so fucking good.”
liking his reaction, you pull eijirou back by the thick roots of his hair and slot your lips against his. they’re a perfect fit no matter how bad this is, how wrong this is. but he’s addicted to you, gets the same high from you as anyone would an illegal drug— his body goes slack when he has you in high dosages and even the taste of you controls every waking moment of kirishima’s life and he needs you just to get by and function.
fucking you takes the edge off, fucking his step-sister is his fix even if he does jail time in eternal lust.
your tongue slides over eijirou’s, your saliva pooling into his mouth to the point where the room spins and only makes his mouth heavier, jaw weak as he moans heartily into your mouth— sucking on the pink muscle just to take back some control while your hand makes the trek down to play with his swollen balls. “why eiji? don’t you wanna cum f’me?” you whisper against his lips, they’re puffy from your kiss and connected to you by a string of spit. “or is it too embarrassing for you to admit that your friends were right? bakugou said i’d make a good fuck, kami said i was a slut. and look at you, fucking my fist like a wet dog in rut. am i good, eiji?” your words are cruel but your head is cocked up at him innocently, like you don’t know just how much yearning he has for you in his bloodstream.
“y-you’re not a slut! you’re mine—fuck,” the redhead blubbers, lips in a pout, cock aching from your sweltering touch. “i’ve only ever wanted you, that’s why i only ever let you...shit s-sis...let you touch me,” his hips jut forward into your cushiony hand, by now— soaked in all of milky precum, helping you guide your fist up and down his shaft. “but please yn… i can’t...we can’t. i need more of you,”
the low buzz of the cool fridge against kirishima’s temperate back does nothing to cover the wet squelch of his blistering tip through your closed fist, his ruby eyes fluttering shut, his breath stuttered, condensed against your skin. “you’re so fucking nasty eijirou. disgusting, even,” you mewl, sickly sweet like glacé cherries, but that doesn’t stop the shivers of ecstasy wracking his hench body. “oh little brother, you wanna fuck me so fucking badly and you don’t want your friends to know but you’re moaning so loud, maybe they can hear you. bet you want them to hear you.”
your words are like silk, slipping through his soul, soft and enticing— stuffing his ears to the point where all he can hear is you and how dirty you're being instead of the thumping of his friends upstairs— messing about in his room. kirishima wills his body to go rigid but he can’t stop his hips as they drive forward, face stained red from your tourment. he shakes his head in last minute desperation to get you to stop, even if his shaking legs gave away how turned on the redhead was but the way your thumb rubs through his slit, only making his cock drip more and tummy fill with butterflies.
he knows exactly what you’re doing, pushing at his sensitive limits. “i can't cum yet, don’t wanna cum yet, wanna be inside you,” kirishima babbles, feeling as if he had been taken above the clouds where oxygen was low and he was forced to breathe in everything that was you— crimson orbs dilated with lust as he stares down at you tugging on his cock.
“you know eiji, i really don’t care,” you drawl, mouth dropping open to follow his as he moans from deep in his chest. “filthy boys, don’t get to cum in my pussy. especially not my dirty baby step-brother, you don’t even deserve it.”
kirishima shudders, your mean words shooting straight to his dick, face lined with sweat and pleading for you to stop. “‘m not close, ‘m not please just lemme get close,”
no matter how much eijirou pleads, his body manipulated to only follow your touch, gives into your command. a broken cry catches in the ridges in his throat, suffocating him from the inside out. kirishima’s dick dribbles pathetically, a tiny stream of white seed coating the warmth of your hand, it’s barely enough to call an orgasm and the signt makes you laugh cruelly— only embarrassing your step-brother further.
“there’s barely anything there eiji, y’got such a big cock and gave me so little cum,” you tease viciously, giving his length a harsh squeeze as he sobs, letting him go only to yank down your shorts and tug your underwear to the side. the scent of your cunt, how wet you are makes the boy groan in frustration. “how pathetic little brother. think i’m gonna tell your friends how bad of a fuck you are to your step-sister. better make it up to me when you get inside me.”
the boy is barely breathing when you hike your thigh up against his hip, pushing his larger frame back forcefully. kirishima’s entire body shudders as his length brushes through your gooey folds, dousing him with your arousal as if it’s holy water and he needs to repent for committing a sin against whatever higher power there is. there’s no way you can be an angel when your wings and eyes are blackened with animalistic and malignant craving to ruin him and your touch is as hot as the hell beneath your feet— especially when he finally sinks into your plush, enticing and drenched hole, sucking him in selfishly, clinging onto him as if you’re the only one he’s allowed to be inside.
his tip, bleeding with excessive amounts of milky precum jabs against your gummy, ribbed walls— making you hiss in ecstasy, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as kirishima’s sheer size stretches you open just as deliciously as it always does. watching the lust transform your face is almost enough to send your step-brother over the edge, he’s too sensitive and knows he won’t last long— clinging onto his sanity and holding off his orgasm just for you.
“can feel you throbbing inside me ei, at this rate you’re so close to losin’ your shit you might not even be able to make me cum,” you mock him through pouted lips, pushing yourself down on his dick until your swollen clit is pressed up against kirishima’s pelvis. you moan quietly, sound vibrating in your throat as the feeling of your clit grinding against his skin and your step-brother filling you up to the brim— makes you clench down hard. “g-god, can’t you do anything right?”
you’re breathless, grinding down on his fat dick, your viscous juices making it easier for you to slide up and down and set a satisfying pace— the skin of your joined, sweat sheen bodies slapping against each other and echoing through the kitchen. kirishima’s hands fall to your hips as he pushes through your puffy folds, revelling in how tight you hug him and speeding up the rhythm you’ve already set. crimson eyes, sparkling with a need to fuck you, drop down to where your sexes meet and the boy goes slack mouthed— never getting used to the way your pussy looks stretched on his cock.
you’re torturing him, with every slow flutter of your juicy cunt around his aching dick, every lip bite and wet kiss you press to his sore ruby lips— you both know kirishima can’t hold on anymore. the fridge behind you thumps against the wall, louder and louder the faster you snap your hips down on your little brother to make him cry— saltine tears stinging tracks down the apples of his rose tinted cheeks. weakly, eijirou finds it in him to push back on your thrusts, meeting you halfway and plugging you full of his veiny dick.
it’s a miserable attempt to make you feel as good as you do to him, choked and stuttered grips laying on the seams of his lips as kirishima’s hips canter forward, churning up your insides due to his size alone. his thick fingers slide between your parted thighs, rubbing lazy shapes and circles onto your pleasure nub while cries of your name become intertwined with the loud squelching of your sopping, blazen core. there’s pride in his chest, heart fluttering when your head tips back and you lament in bliss— each swipe at your clit sending ripples of pleasure through your body, hitting high heaven as your legs tremble.
but in the next stroke, kirishima misses your clit again, too busy latching onto the junction between your shoulder and your neck with sharp teeth to pacify himself—groaning into your salt licked skin as he works love bites into the area. “y-you’re so stupid,” you huff in exertion, working your hips in circular motions as kirishima dribbles against your ribbed walls, activating your pleasure centres. “look so stupid f’trying to make me cum ‘n you can’t even touch my clit right, f-fuck!”
your mean words shoot straight to his dick pulsing eagerly inside the warmth of your spongy walls, eijirou’s hips angled upwards to prod against your g-spot when flicking at your clit doesn’t work. they perfectly cover the way his indecent burning touch against your bouncing breasts and hardened nipples make you go insane. he smears precum against you, making your sexes wet and slippery as you slide together in a sweaty mess of limbs, fucking loudly in the kitchen while your step-brother’s friends roundhouse a few floors above.
“i-i’m—‘m sorry!” kirishima whimpers, large hands brushing your waist every time you pull away, never letting his cock leave the safety of your aching pussy— eyes fluttering shut.
your hand connects with eijirou’s tear stained cheeks, snapping his eyes wide open, pupils blown out to watch you. “are you really? put on such a big show for your friends,” you sigh, squeezing the life out of him, essence dripping down his balls while strings of it hit the floor from the force of the redhead’s cantering hips. “y’act like you’re too good to fuck me, when you’re not even worth fuckin’ to begin with. so… so fucking undeserving of such a big c-cock, ‘specially when you’ve barely got any cum in there for me—oh fuck!”
your eyes roll back in your skull when kirishima hits deep and then you’re pinning him back to the fridge, the magnets your parents own scratching his back— pain prickling under his skin in the best of ways as your nails dig into his arms. you grunt words of ‘just like that,’ ‘maybe you are good for somethin’,’ and ‘do that again,’ as you fuck yourself down on your step-brother’s cock— reaching the seventh heaven in when he jams up against your gooey pleasure spot over and over. you clamp down every time, milking him with your hole right around his fiery tip when kirishima pulls his dick back during one stroke of his hips.
his body is wracked with the shakes, a gluttoral beef bouncing between you as he takes you both to your highs, sloppily fumbling with your clit— hips stroking into you slowly and deeply, kissing your cervix. together you both tumble into your orgasms— essences gushing and spilling over you both, your arousal splashing against kirishima’s tummy as you finally cum and let go of all that you’ve been holding back.
“oh shit, ohmygod—yn please, cum f’me, please!” kirishima whines brokenly, grabbing at any skin of yours he can— your doughy thighs and soft breasts— anything, to coax you a few steps closer to cumming.
prompted by your juicy, fluttering cunt— kirishima follows suit, dribbles of his seed spilling into your core and lining your insides with hot, thick opaque spurts of white— you cream around his base, rings of your mixed arousals drenching the redhead in new shades of orgasm as he barely fills you up— shaking and shuddering from his half formed high. seed seeps down your inner thigh, when you pull out, barely giving kirishima time to come down. his head is dizzy with that post orgasmic haze and lust, mop of his soft locks collapsing against your shoulder as he continues to cum and twitch against you.
you push him back by the roots of his hair, tutting at your step brother in disappointment. “you barely gave me enough cum to breed me, eiji, i can’t believe my step-brother is this pathetic,” you spit with false sympathy, letting him go to pull your panties back on and tuck eijirou back into his shorts. “good thing i don’t need my fucktoys to actually cum.”
you don’t waste a second longer after that, peeling away from kirishima and finally freeing him from your clutches— sending him back upstairs to his group of stupid, horny friends, not giving him the time of day.
kirishima’s face burns with humiliation, the heat of it spreading right up to the tips of his ears as he heads for the staircase— forgetting the reason he even came down as he searches his scrambled sex-crazed brain for an excuse for why he’d been gone for so long.
except, he doesn’t make it back to his room— for kaminari, sero and bakugou have gathered on the stairs. their faces are pulled into knowing expressions, having heard more than a fraction of your antics with kirishima in the kitchen...only embarrassing their red headed friend even further.
“h-how much of that did you hear?” kirishima says, swallowing the shame-filled nerves in his throat thickly.
“enough,” kaminari pipes up once again, a smirk gracing his lips. “i’ve said it before and especially after that, i’ll say it again. dude, your sister’s fucking hot.”
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iwasbunny · a month ago
𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖉 | day three special.
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𝖋𝖙. pro-hero kirishima — loss of virginity.
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. size kink, premature ejaculation, unprotected sex, creampies, mentions of size kink, hints of cervix fucking.
𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖇𝖇𝖑𝖊. 596 words.
𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊. ended up feeling inspired so ‘m pairing my baby’s post with some virgin kirishima, hehe.
kinktober masterlist.
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He didn’t think that he would ever get this far but yet here you are, his sweet little girlfriend servicing his thick cock and promising to take good care of him.
The way your hands could barely wrap around his length as his pre-cum spilled out of the slit and coated your hands was surreal, it had him gripping the sheets as he desperately tried to resist the urge to fuck your fist.
You could tell that he was holding back and you thought he’d had enough of your teasing already as you slipped into his lap, your hips straddling his while his cockhead nudged against your tight entrance. making even more of a mess as the signs of your arousal mixed with his.
The loud squelching noises made him groan as you teasingly grinded his member against your slick folds before you slowly sank down on his cock, the way your tight little hole stretched to take in every inch of his cock was making him lose his mind.
“Fuck- baby, I can’t- already-” His voice was shaky while his hands immediately flew to your hips.
The drag of his cock against your gummy walls while your slick covered more and more of him was almost too much for him to take, the stretch only served to further your need to please him.
“Ngh-“ With one quick snap of your hips he found himself letting out an embarrassingly loud groan as drool dripped down the corner of his lips. “Eiji, you fill me up so well.”
You were finally stuffed full and filled to the brim, his cock prodding against your cervix while his balls were nestled perfectly against your ass.
Your cunt felt perfect, the way you were squeezing and massaging his cock was leaving his head swimming in pleasure. It was like you were made to take him, your body making him feel better than anything ever has.
But what he didn’t expect was for you to start rolling your hips against his so quickly, the pleasure was overwhelming and building up too fast. All that left his lips was a sudden pathetic cry of your name as your walls clamp around him and greedily milk his cock.
Thick ropes of cum his spurting from his cock and filling you so much it started to leak out of your pussy and drip down your thighs. Kirishima shuddered, soft pants leaving him while his head was resting against your shoulders in embarrassment of finishing that fast.
“It’s okay, baby. You did so well.”
But your praise didn’t seem to reassure him as not even a second later you found yourself pinned underneath him while more of his seed was forced out of your cunt as he sharply rutted his hips against yours.
“You’re squeezing me so tight, baby, you wanna cum too, don’t you? I’m not leaving my girl unsatisfied. I wanna see you filled with my cum while you make a mess on my cock.”
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