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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— count to five + mirio togata.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — when your job as your teacher takes you halfway across japan, you don’t expect a little boy and his father to change your life nearly as much as they do. or the five times in which you encounter mirio togata and his son, yoshi.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, fluff, smut, strangers to lovers, single-parenthood, mention of hospitals, mentions of reader being smaller than mirio, unprotected sex, rough sex, exhibitionism, choking, dacryphilia, auralism, scratching, biting, creampie, squirting, fingering ( f!receiving ), praise!kink, daddy!kink, size!kink - fem!reader, teacher!reader, single-dad!mirio.

⭑ words — 6.3K.

⭑ notes — hi !!! it’s been a while! thank your being patient with me! here’s a little commission written for the lovely @roses-and-whisky who has given me permission to post. i hope you all enjoy !! - m.list ✩

the first time you meet mirio togata, it’s oddly warm for the season— the usual bite to a late autumn’s day nowhere to be found. sunshine beats down on your back, only adding to the heat simmering and rushing through your body as you work to unload moving boxes from the van you’d hired. though, you’re sweaty, and tired from hours of travelling across the cities of Japan, you’re excited for your fresh start. a degree hanging from your belt, plenty of experience behind you— the world is now your oyster.

cardboard filled with knickknacks and memories from your parents, childhood and all your school years sits heavy in your palms before you place it on the sidewalk— knowing that your host in this city will help you move into the gated community nearby, a room with your name painted into the blank white walls already set up for you.

“thas’a cool snow globe!” a childish, boy-ish voice squeaks from beside you once you’ve set the box down— daring to tug your gaze upwards to meet a child who perhaps embodies the same sunshine that’s giving you warmth today. his eyes are a brilliant blue, gaps in his teeth where his adult ones just about break through the gums. the boy points a finger tip covered in blue marker, no doubt, towards the trinket in your box with glimmering matching eyes.

smiling softly, you take it out of your box, thumbing the embossed logo of your university before shaking it and handing it to the tiny blonde. “isn’t it?” you whisper to him like you’re sharing a secret, leaning in real close and cupping his hands in your own. they’re warm. “if you hold it up to the sky, just right…” you add, pushing your hands upward with his to hold the snow globe under the sun. “the light catches on the glitter inside, making a snowy little rainbow!”

“woaaaah! that’s even cooler!”

the boy grins, eyes scintillating like the pearlescent flecks mixed into the water of your snow globe— little bits of white covering the two happy caricatures stuck inside.

“yoshi! how many times do i have to tell you not to run ahead, buddy?” the little boy, that you now know as yoshi, freezes in place— candescent azure eyes shooting over to his father as if he’s been caught in the act. he knows they’ll be late for swimming if they don’t keep walking…but your snow globe is just so cool. if you thought the kid was bright, the man before you is even brighter…the centre of your solar system, a warm heart lodged between his two juicy pecs and a chiselled jaw. he looks like he’s walked straight out of a movie, sending your brain into a tizzy.

he’s stunning and your words come out jumbled as you address him. “is he yours?” you ask, body struck with the heat of the pro hero before you, the sun above you too.

you feel a bit silly for asking the question, the uncanny resemblance between the two becoming even more obvious— as with the fact that it’s lemillion you’re talking to. the elder blonde’s hearty laughter echoing between you both on the side of the street. “yes, he’s mine. all my own flesh and blood,” mirio responds proudly. you’ve always loved children, but you never thought the pro hero would have one of his own.

and you never thought you’d wanted to mother someone’s children as much as you did his. mirio togata, desirable, handsome and good with kids.

“introduce yourself buddy, be polite.”

the little boy nods eagerly, bowing to you with respect after beaming at you warmly. “i-i’m yoshi togata! nice ta’meet you ma’am!”

you giggle and mirio grins. you’re cute, endearing almost— and he finds himself laughing with you.

“it’s lovely to meet you too, yoshi,” you reply, sticking your hand out to shake his tinier one as you give them both your name kindly.

sweet, just like you. mirio likes the way you interact with his son. he likes you, so far.

before mirio can introduce himself back, the driver in your mover’s van honks loudly. “move it lady! i’m not waitin’ out here for you all day or i’m uppin’ the price of your service.” you give the pair an apologetic look in response, offering a high five to yoshi and a shy wave to his dad, scurrying off to finish unloading the van.

and mirio watches you go, for more than one reason.

the second time you encounter mirio togata, is after a disaster— his very reason for existence, his sunshine, little yoshi, nearly loses his light.

you had always wanted to teach. nurturing children into the faces of tomorrow was your calling— guiding them to be good and help others without question…and as it turns out, the graduate teaching position you’d been hired for took in a lot of students who were the children of pro heroes, and the little blonde raised by his almost identical father just so happened to be a student in your kindergarten class. yoshi togata had taken an instant liking to you as his teacher, a child-like wonder akin to magic from fairy tales emitting from the little boy whenever you looked at him, helped him along in reading and solving calculations in the dreaded maths classes.

yoshi absolutely adored you.

he wanted to sit with you at lunch time, tucked himself into your side during nap time and screamed your name the first time his quirk ever activated. as much as the darling boy looked like pro hero lemillion— his quirk was scarily similar to it as well.

yoshi wails the whole way to the hospital, the lack of air he received after slipping through the concrete in the school yard while scraping his knee, a little beyond the school nurse’s jurisdiction. you’d already gotten someone to cover your class, speeding to the nearest emergency room with hope that someone had alerted his father of the situation.

when mirio arrives, yoshi’s cheeks are luckily smeared with chocolate pudding cups instead of saltine tears and he’s surprisingly cheerful for a kid attached to a small IV drip— dressed in his own red-riot themed hospital gown, with you resting beside the bed in his ward.

“how ya feelin’ buddy?” lemillion whispers, tone on the edge of worry as he slips off the cape to his hero costume. “heard you got your quirk today.”

the bouncing baby boy with sunshine in his eyes shuffles onto his knees, wobbling over the edge of his bed before being snatched up by his dad, bright laughter bubbling on his lips when he nearly slips through the beefy man’s arms. “uh huh! an’ miss got me puddin’ cups! said i was real brave.”

“you were kid, but we gotta get this quirk under control! dad’s gonna have to teach ya!”

togata turns to you next, appreciation evident on his matured features— radiating around you warmly. “h-he really was brave,” you say sincerely, sitting up and a little more awake now the pro hero of your dreams is looking deep into your soul. “i was so worried! but yoshi behaved just like a pro.” you cringe a little at your choice of words, but the strapping blonde before you only takes your hand, lips brushing across the back of your knuckles in such a way that tingles run down your spine.

sapphire orbs flick upwards to make yours as you feel the heat of the sun simmering underneath your cheeks.

“thank you for looking out for him,” he says, voice cheerful and like honey in your ears. “i never got to properly introduce myself, even after all this time. i’m—“

“lemillion, i-i know.”

“mirio. togata, actually. and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” mirio cuts you off but the gentle smile never leaves his handsome face, and you’re sure you might pass out— embarrassed by his forwardness and flirting in front of his son, your student ( who’s too occupied by pudding cups and old cartoon reruns to actually care. )

there’s a knock to the door before it opens as the two of you share a moment. “mrs…togata and lemillion, sir! i have an update on your son’s vitals and quirk—“ suddenly, the doctor enters the room like a hurricane disrupting a quaint little farm.

and you jump back from the pro hero, bashful and shy. “o-oh! no. i’m not…we’re not!” gesturing between yourself and mirio, you shake your head— trying to dispel any wedded-couple vibes the pair of you might give off. “i’m just the teacher.”

the doctor raises a brow, looking up from his sheets on the young togata’s vitals and then hums. “my apologies then,” he turns to mirio. “your son seems to be doing extremely well— considering the circumstances and shock to his body he must’ve experienced….”

the doctor’s words fade into nothing but static as you attempt to calm your beating heart— sending reassuring smiles in yoshi’s direction from time to time while his father and the medical expert discuss the next steps to take regarding his quirk.

but you don’t think you’ll get your heart to calm down tonight… not with the way mirio still holds your hand, thumb brushing over the back of it fondly.

your third memorable encounter with mirio togata falls on the day of your school’s winter fundraiser.

lemillion had made himself a permanent fixture in your humble little life as a teacher—somehow acquiring your number from the school offices to constantly text you throughout the day. you knew that the pair of you were crossing the boundaries of professionalism, parent and teacher, but it couldn’t be helped. your heart fluttered at every message you exchanged, pictures of yoshi enjoying himself at school and some of mirio on patrol being sent back and forth.

and so, you were beyond excited when the winter fate rolled around, the children of your class volunteering with their parents to help out at different stalls— yoshi had been sure to sign up to help you with the bake sale, roping in his dad as well. the two stayed up all night prior, baking pro hero themed cupcakes decorated with hundreds and thousands and dollops of tubed colourful frosting to sell, though messy, it only warmed your heart having their company.

“remember yoshi, i don’t want you phasing through the tables to steal the merchandise from the bake sale!” you remind the younger togata sweetly as he helps you set up the various baked goods for display. he shakes his head in affirmation, golden curls bouncing over ocean eyes and freckled cheeks despite the crumbs residing on them— evidence of his crimes. “though, i’m sure your dad will boost our donations! since he’s a pro hero and all.” not to mention all the mothers and single teachers are ogling the hell out him right now, you’re sure that they’re plotting your murder too.

wiping yoshi’s mouth, you shift your attention to his father— rolling your eyes amusedly at the bags under his own from staying up late to bake. “i certainly must be givin’ you an ego boost helping out too, having a pro hero do all your dirty work.” lemillion teases, voice lowered and husky— though grateful when you pass him a hot coffee.

“oh please mister togata,” turning on your own flirty charm, you send a wink the pro hero’s way. “you adore being my little helper, i’m sure you’ve missed having a woman boss you about like you need.” the second half of your words are whispered, almost sultry as you cross more boundaries in your unique and blossoming relationship.

mirio flushes, and in the tight space of your bakesale booth— presses his broad and molten-warm chest against your back, coffee in one hand while the other sits in a calculated manor on your hip.

“oh, i do love a woman in charge, miss.” the way he utters your name, sounds like and is as sweet as melted chocolate— far too risqué for a school fundraiser, and it’s your turn to shy away from the heat of the moment.

you allow yourself to be distracted by the children, yoshi included — who must have snuck off using his quirk— playing dangerously close to a heavily decorated Christmas tree that threatens to topple over as they weave around beneath it, and rush off to stop them— leaving the darling lemillion to deal with a swarm of hungry mothers and staff, desperate for a slice of his pie and not the cake your booth has to offer. he can’t help but watch you longingly, the way you bend down to speak soft to the children, holding their chubby little hands while giving them a gentle reprimand.

you’re so good with kids, good with yoshi— and mirio would be lying if he didn’t say you were good with him too.

you didn’t judge him for having a child before marriage, when he was still making a name for himself— you were kind to him, sweet and oh so understanding.

and perhaps he’d come to like you for reasons more than just being good with his son.

though his fantasises of having you close, having you to himself and making you a part of his family are promptly cut short by the intrusion of his long time friend…izuku midoriya. when the number one, his competion from way back when, seems to appear from nowhere— joining you with the now squealing children, giving them a lesson ( no doubt ) on how to be a good hero. or some mushy crap like that.

you seem impressed, smitten at how good deku is with your students, ruffling their hair and holding them up high above the green ringlets that make everyone go crazy…including you. mirio doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up brighter than those on the Christmas tree as izuku plays with your kids, puts his hand on the small of your back and whispers way too damn close to your ear.

since when did that shrimp have moves? the blonde can’t help but wonder. why do you like him so much?

your smile is near blinding when you return back to the bake sale booth with izuku on your arm— rambling about how much it took to get him to come, how good for the school it will be… as if togata hadn’t been standing right there the entire time. it bothers mirio a little bit, just how bright you shine when this other man is around, despite the budding romance you both might be sharing.

so he really can’t help himself, jealousy boiling over, when he blurts out. “are you two dating? am i missing something, number one?” in a strained, faux happy voice.

“o-oh! god no!”

“w-what? mirio no! midoriya is my cousin.” you’re quick to dismiss the idea, shaking your head while the number one hero turns bright red. “i invited him along today because he’s obviously a hit amongst single parents— freckles like this are sure to bring in the big bucks.” you cheer, punching your relatives star spotted cheeks.

izuku is rendered embarrassed for the remainder of the fundraiser, mirio absolutely mortified and you extremely amused but the rest of the bake sale goes without a hitch until closing and clean up time. yoshi sleeps on a bench behind your booth ( ultimately crashing from a sugar high ) as your cousin serves the very last of your eager customers trying to tempt him with their cookies instead of buying the ones izuku‘s girlfriend makes for a living.

as though not to disturb his sleeping son, the elder blonde shoots you a quick text.

mister togata - 5:45PM : I definitely was not jealous earlier.

mister togata - 5:46PM : So pls disregard me making a fool out of myself in front of your cousin.

you stifle a breathless chuckle like music to mirio’s ears, before looking back to see if yoshi is still resting peacefully and shoot another text in response.

yoshi’s pretty teacher lady - 5:49PM : oh i dunno, don’t think i can forget you mistaking my cousin for my boyfriend.

yoshi’s pretty teacher lady - 5:49PM : but maybe i can make an exception for you.

that familiar crack of heat flitters in the air when you both look up from your phones and catch one another’s gaze— suddenly aware of how small the space in booth is, how close you both are…how if you stood on your tiptoes you might be able to…

to kiss him.

to kiss one another.

but the moment is soon lost, wanting energy dissipating within the air as yoshi stirs to mumble tiredly. “don’ get too close to daddy miss!” the baby boy utters your name once, rubbing his eyes. “he’s got cooties.”

it’s only then that you truly realise how close you to the man…to this pro hero whose son is someone that you teach. it’s wrong, unprofessional… and losing your career isn’t worth kissing togata, no matter how much you want it.

so you back away— treating mirio togata as if he really does have cooties, putting up a wall between you both.

the fourth time you cross paths with mirio togata, you’re wet.

and not because of him.

the rain from an unexpected storm after work soaks you to the bone as you desperately call out to deku from your shared front porch— pleading and begging with the gods for him to be home since you’d forgotten your house keys back at your office on campus.

neither of you had realised it at the time, but when you’d first met mirio on your move-in date— you’d made arrangements to bunk with your cousin, izuku, in the same gated community that mirio lived in. the one where he just so happened to be neighbours with the top hero too.

the sunshine-like pro hero had spotted you shivering like a purse dog outside while home with a sickly little yoshi and despite the frosty awkwardness that built up between you both after the bake-sale, mirio knew it would be cruel of him to just leave you outside like that. “come inside,” he frowns, as if to scold you the same way you’d do with your students. “you’ll catch a cold like this if you don’t. and i’m not taking no for an answer, deku is on patrol, won’t be home until late.”

you look defeated, like a kicked puppy as you trudge into the togata household, clothes heavy with water. “i’m sorry,” you pout, as cute as ever— stealing mirio’s heart right from where it beats in his chest.

“don’t be, head upstairs and take the first right into my room. you can grab a change of clothes and stay here until your cousin comes home. i’ll fix you something to eat.”

it has the man’s stomach in knots how easily you follow his command, how beautiful you look with raindrops clinging to your skin. you’re even more so when you come back down dressed in an old sir night-eye shirt of his, heading over to join a pleased yoshi on the couch who can’t stop talking about how how he hated missing school and being sick and how glad he is that you came to visit.

yoshi trusts you so much, and that’s more than enough to drive mirio insane…but seeing you in his shirt too? it’s icing on the cake.

the rest of the evening is spent with you making funny shaped homemade pizzas with the younger togata and picking a book for him while his father and lemillion draws him a bubble bath. after washing up, you read yoshi the story until his eyes droop… and you can’t help but be a little jealous of how long his golden lashes are as they brush the freckles on his chubby cheeks. mirio spends that time avoiding eye contact, staring at your bottom when it peeks out from under his shirt and thinking of you in the most unholy ways.

when the time comes, you tuck the darling yoshi into his dinosaur and suneater themed sheets alongside his father before letting the elder togata guide you to the guest bedroom just one floor up and two doors down from his own. “sleep tight,” you murmur to the man, just a breath’s width apart in the doorway. “i-i’ll head back to midoriya’s in the morning. s-so thank you for tonight…”

he wants to say thank you back, for spending time with his son and teaching him so well, but lemillion’s words are lost on the way you look up at him with such bright doe eyes and a sleepy sweet smile. you chuckle breathlessly and slip away into the room, leaving mirio a flustered statue in place.

neither of your nights end there, however.

crossing the lines of professionalism once more, surrounded by all of his scents— hazelnuts and burning wood…you’re overcome with desire, there’s a familiar twitch between your thighs and a throb at your clit that you have to soothe. every neuron in your brain screams at you to stop, though your fingers circle your nub from over the crotch of your panties and thoughts of mirio above you, inside of of you and all over you ebb at your moral judgement.

it’s wrong, to moan mirio’s name into his sheets that smell like him…for you cunt to drool selfishly through your night clothes against the warm blanket he’d provided you with. the blonde hears you through the paper thin walls, cock swelling more and more with every mewl you let out. ones that are promised to him and him alone.

mirio chokes on groans, fists his cock and spreads his precum all over his expensive bed linen, humping his duvet as he imagines your supple, heated flesh beneath him. you’re like the sun, pulling him into your orbit and incinerating him from the inside out. he calls your name like it’s a prayer, half hoping you can hear his wanton for you echo across the hall, too busy jacking off to burst into your room and pump you full. make you a mother to his second and third child.

it’s far from appropriate, the pair of you getting off to one another in the middle of the night like this— but neither of you can think to stop, minds clouded by lust and orgasms that breach the horizon of the early morning… the tastes of each other’s names like sins on your tongues.

the filth and final time you encounter mirio togata like this, you’re like a lamb being sent to the slaughter.

pretty prey walking into the lion’s den.

you learn from yoshi during pick-up time that his father had fallen sick with the winter’s cold…explaining why you hadn’t seen him much between the special encounters after your night of sin. suneater— or mister amajiki, a close friend of the togatas, picks up yoshi under the guise of a play date while mirio recovers from a particularly serious cold and flu he caught on patrol.

“you should go see daddy!” yoshi babbles before bounding down to his uncle’s car. “he calls out for you a lot!” the cluelessness yet enthusiasm of a child will never cease to amaze you, and you have to control your stutter when hesitantly agreeing with your student. you know why mirio calls your name so much, that night hadn’t been the only time you’d gotten off to one another, nor would it be the last. you’d even walked in on the pro hero fisting his cock with your name wet on his tongue but neither of you had said a word at the time.

once all of your students have been sent off with their parents and carers, you make sure to swing by the closest mart to make somewhat of a care package for mister togata. some cough drops, cold medicine, heating pads for his hands and several tins of soup— all with the hope of helping him feel better.

you’re not nearly prepared for the sight you’re given when knocking on mirio’s door later on.

he says your name as soon as he opens up, hoarse and almost sultry,, and the man is half naked too— golden skin radiating with heat, coruscating with sweat and a slight flush from the fever. “fuck, pretty girl. you’ve come t’take care of me, hm?” mirio slurs in a slow and sexy way, swaying on his feet and collapsing onto you right on the front porch. “wha’d’are ya doin’ here gorgeous?”

embarrassment floods your veins, tangling with the heat burning from mirio against you. “l-lets get you inside, you’re sick.”

“lovesick, baby, been missin’ you all week.”

his words shouldn’t send your brain into a flurry as you push the pro hero back into his house but they do. you struggle with avoiding how he slobbers all over you like a horny dog, how he smirks cockily while you push him to sit against the livingroom couch. “we need to bring down this fever,” dismissing the blonde, you rush to his kitchen for a tall glass of water and boil the kettle to make him one of those medicated hot drinks. “you’ll be better soon, mister togata.”

blinking over at you with reddened lined eyes, lemillion keeps a predatory gaze on you despite how ill he is. “using formalities with me, sunshine?” he coos in response, distracted when you return by attempting to tug off more of his clothes…or his pants, rather. “that’s not what you were calling me the other night when you phoned to let me watch you shove your tiny fingers into that tight…pretty pussy…moaning my name—“

“mirio!”

“just like that gorgeous… fuck, say it again, baby.” you know that the man is delirious with his flu, but the low voice he drops deep, dripping with honey, filling you with that familiar lust you got off on whenever the two of you met up in secret. “‘mirio, m-mirio…oh fuck! mirio!’ you get so cute when you whine for me like that.” he’s playing you for a fool and you’re falling for it— like an easy game of cat and mouse, mirio coyly flirting with you as you desperately try to keep his sweatpants on. bundling him up in blankets and filling him up with cold water to calm down his fever.

you’re about to check his temperature again while pressing the back of your hand to his forehead when large and calloused hands grip the fat at your hips— tugging you straight into mirio’s lap like a lion dragging around its prey before the kill. “d-doesn’t look like you’re hot anymore…” you squeak, quivering in his grip and feeling every ripple of his thighs and abs beneath your fingertips as you steady yourself against him.

“fever went down ages ago baby,” he grins, all toothy and pearly white— pinching your waist, slender fingers cupping the curve of your ass to pull you back and forth over the growing bulge in his lap. “you’re just so fucking cute, dotin’ all over me, sunshine.” biting your lip, you fall apart easily— bearing witness to tousled golden locks and a smirk that sets a fire alight in your lower belly. “you wanna kiss me, don’t you?”

then you’re nodding your head, any logical thought cleared from your mind ( even the ones about not spreading germs that you usually tell to your students )— you want to know what the sun tastes like, if it’s as warm or as hot as science makes it seem. a heavy hand cups your throat without squeezing and brings you down for a passionate lip lock, your own finding the thick tresses of light and fiery hair as mirio’s tongue glides over the seam of your lips after pressing against yours. you moan at the sweet taste of honey and ginger on his lips, whimper in the form of begging for the man to let you in and consume you whole until you’re nothing but stardust.

neither of you part, lungs burning for oxygen like you’re lost in space with no air to breathe— grinding and kissing like your lives depend on it. everything is sloppy, spit-slicked and full of the admissions of feelings— you like each other. need each other like the earth needs its light and the sun needs something to shine down on. mirio sucks on your bottom lip, takes it between his teeth and slowly pulls away from you, but you follow him, chasing your own personal ecstasy.

“so needy, sunshine,” mirio coos, a certain deep rasp caught in the ridges of his throat. “so pretty like this too, so cute, all small in my lap. with my hands around your darlin’ little neck.” cobalt eyes, as luminous as the skies on a clear day flicker up to meet yours, swimming with tears of desperation— a craving for more of mirio togata carved into each fleck, drowning your dilated pupils. “do you want me to fuck you?”

you nod again, the world around you spinning and your thoughts intoxicated with the golden boy hero beneath your thighs that tremble with each compliment he feeds to you. “yes— god, please.”

“please, what?” togata asks you, voice stern as he works on pulling you out of the layers of your clothes— blouse and bra gone before you can even register it.

pouting, you whisper a needy. “m-mirio?”

shaking his head as if chastising a child, the man tuts and mocks your pout all while working on plucking off your skirt next, leaving you in nothing but your innocent cotton panties. “that’s daddy when i’m with you,” he tells you like it’s a promise with his fingers once again fumbling between your bodies and underwear to toy with the pearl between your puffy pussy lips, dragging the newfound wetness over your clit. clear strings of your arousal seep through your panties and leave a dark spot on his sweats. “daddy, when i have you like this, you got that?”

“y-yes,” you mewl eagerly, shifting on your knees so you’re better spread over mirio’s lap— giving him better access to prep your sweet hole as it flutters around his thick digits, earning a breathless chuckle from his wet lips. “yes, daddy.”

“good fucking girl,” he says proudly, gaze fixated on between your pretty thighs— watching you quiver from the praise before mirio relents, easing two fingers past your soaked entrance and scissoring them immediately. stretching you wide to take his girthy cock. “oh fuck, my little sunshine’s so warm, so wet for me.” he groans, drawing his name against your silken walls, thumb painting wide sloppy circles into your clit.

your face feels hot with tears, something that mirio enjoys seeing, especially when they clump in your eyelashes. “please…i want more,” i want you. is what you mean, nails lightly cutting into mirio’s shirtless shoulders as you ride the digits pumping in and out of your slick cunt, squeezing tight around them as you gush into the seat of his palm. “d-daddy!”

“shhh, i know little sunshine, daddy knows,” he hums softly after pressing down on your g-spot, carefully pulling his fingers out of you to push you onto your back on the couch. “be good f’me and don’t cum yet, kay? want you to hold onto that until i’ve got you on my cock. yeah?” mirio’s words are tender, though domineering, while he shifts to hover over you, hot tongue burning against your skin as he licks a trail from the hem of your panties, between your arching back, bare breasts and budding nipples until he meets your lips— drooling into your eager open mouth as you pant out for more. “so fucking perfect, sunshine.”

cool air rushes over your pulsating, glistening pussy— mirio having pulled your underwear aside, only causing you to cry out from the lack of stimulation. “don’t cry, pretty baby,” you manage to hear him over the blood pulsing through your ears, body tingling all over at the feeling of mirio’s girthy cock pressing against your inner thigh through layers of fabric. “‘m gonna fuck you now, don’t worry. daddy’s gotcha.”

he hikes a thigh of yours up over his hip, shoving down his boxers and sweats just enough to let his mushroomed and seedy cockhead press into the heat of your pussy. you dig your nails into mirio’s sweaty scalp, mouth hanging open and hips rising from the sticky leather of the couch covered in your juices. the man above you is the centre of your universe, you think. though your relationship may be somewhat taboo, you feel the care and affection he has for you in every single one of his touches. calloused hands moulding your body into the perfect shape to fuck, to make love to and makes you feel like jello as his fat, veiny dick pushes deeper into you— big for the slickness of your pussy to resist him.

“relax for daddy, sweetheart, let me in…c’mon, fuck. open up f’me,” mirio simpers, rolling his hips slow and sensual until your walls tremble around him— welcoming his dick home, bathing him in all of your arousal. he throbs inside you, finally sheathed in all your warmth as if you’re the core of his earth. “that’s it…my good girl, oh fuck. fuck, you feel better than i ever imagined. so fucking tight baby, gonna let daddy fuck you right, huh?” you can tell that he’s losing himself within you, now forcing your knees into your shoulders to put you into a mating press and wasting no more time setting a rough, feverish pace to his hips and pounding into your sweet cunt.

you cry and squeal and claw at togata, the world spinning on its axis around you while the blonde fucks you into a stupor— his tip smearing copious amounts of thick precum along your velveteen insides until there’s a white ring of your mixed arousals cuffed around the base of his blue veined cock. “d-daddy…s’good. so fuckin’ good,” your own juices splash up against the pro hero’s stomach and and every time his hips slam down against your own— wet skin slapping on skin in a rhythmic and sensual tune.

galaxies twinkle in your pretty eyes, your teeth sinking into mirio’s golden and broad shoulders while you scratch at his back. the sound of sex clinging to the air in the room is primal, animalistic as lemillion cups your throat again— tilting your head so that he can mark his claim into your sweat tainted flesh. the fabric of your panties pushed to the side rubs deliciously at his soaked, creamy shaft and the waistband of his pants rub your clit raw, the effect the clothing has on you both leading you to believe that neither of you will last much longer like this.

“‘m makin’ you see fuckin’ stars, aren’t i sunshine?” he asks you, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust—cum-loaded balls tapping against your ass, the sound mixing with your squeals to make a lustful song. “want this pretty pussy to cum for me. can you do that, my good girl?” mirio moans heartily above the couch squeaking beneath your bodies that dance together in rough and passionate movements.

he smiles again, nice and bright when you nod and start to circle your hips upwards as best as you can into his. “‘m close, can cum for daddy. wanna cum for daddy. please don’t stop, please—!”

“alright baby, i gotcha…look at you. so cute and needy for your daddy. for me.” mirio gunts back into your mouth, falling apart at the sight of your lovesick and teary face, crumbling at the way your cunt clamps down on him— refusing to let him pull out in an attempt to milk him for all his worth. you’re tight around him, practically choking mirio’s cock as his fat milky tip bullies your insides and harshly bares down on your g-spot— sending you headfirst into your orgasm. “that’s it…fuck look at that, pretty lil pussy cummin’ around daddy’s fat cock. s-shit.”

soft praises are expelled into the buzzing air between you both, with you gasping for breath and squirting on the blonde’s dick so hard that he’s forced out of your pulsing walls before he cums in hot waves over your raw mound— painting your ravaged pussy lips white with his hot and thick seed.

you’re both left panting and sticky messes on the couch as you come down from your highs— your mind running a mile a minute when you realise what’s just happened, what you’ve done with the father of your student. no less.

“m-mister togata, i-i’m—“ you start to apologise, coming too, heart rate spiking in your chest.

but mirio is quick to stop you, forehead and sweaty blonde locks pressed to your own with a dreamy and satisfied look on your face. “before you say anything more. i want you to know that this wasn’t just a hook up for me. nor were the times before that.” he explains,blinking up at you with unadulterated affection, perhaps even love. “i like you, a-and i like how you look out for my son. and i know our relationship has been far from appropriate, i’d like to take you out for a proper date— do things right instead of sleeping with you to work up my courage to ask you out.”

“mirio…” you smile, brushing back his hair. “i’d love that, a lot actually.”

“yeah?” he asks, timid for a man who just fucked you to the high heavens and back before linking your fingers. “say you mean it, or you’ll be breakin’ both mine and yoshi's hearts.”

“yeah…” you murmur through a laugh, leaning up for a sweet kiss to seal the deal.

the fifth time you encounter mirio togata, you walk into the lions den, but come out with him hand in hand— your hearts belonging to one another.

#mirio x reader #mirio smut #mirio togata smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mirio togata x reader #mirio imagines #mirio fluff #mirio x you #bnha imagines #mirio togata x you #mha smut #mha x reader #mha imagines #mirio togata fluff #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing

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strawberrystepmom · 3 days

Text

pairing: Toshinori Yagi x F!Reader -> Mirio Togata x F!Reader

word count: 7.8k

contents: Canon divergence for final war arc and beyond, friends to lovers with history, reader has a defined quirk (magnetism) and is a support equipment safety consultant, reader is 29 and Mirio is 30, appearances from other heroes (Deku & Bakugou and they are married, in their 20's)

cw: major character death and discussions of aspects of caretaking for someone at the end of their life, discussions of loss and grief

notes: This idea could not have come to fruition without my most beloved @izvmimi and @bakvrue so thank you to them for always being the very best. I have really been having a Mirioaissance lately and as you all know I love Mr. Might so here goes. Hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading ♡ | crossposted to ao3

“I’m dying.”

Mirio Togata nearly chokes mid-swallow, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to prevent droplets of tea from seeping out of his lips. It’s a rare Wednesday day off for Lemillion and sunlight pours into the expansive room used as an office at. He’s a guest in the home of one of the most prolific heroes of all time, as he often is, though today he was invited by the man himself instead of showing up to pop in and say hello.

All Might, Toshinori Yagi, is dying.

Technically he has been for years though hearing it from the man’s own mouth feels different than the vague conversations about ‘terminal’ and ‘incompatible organs’.

“No,” the younger man starts but Toshinori raises a hand to stop him, shaking his head with a chuckle.

It’s no secret he has been rapidly looking more and more frail as autumn faded into winter which is now melting into the bright green of spring.

“It’s true. No matter how many times you tell me ‘you can get better’ or ‘medical technology is improving’ it will not change the fact that my time has a finite number on it.”

There has been a finite amount of his life remaining for a very long time, he’s simply managed to dodge it for as long as possible. Running away from the truth is no longer an option, the years he has been given since the War and its finish already leaving the man feeling like a perpetual cheat. He was supposed to die then, and then after that, and then again and again and again…

There are no more ducks and dodges left in him.

“Midoriya knows and has accepted it. It’s time for you to do the same.”

The words would be harsh coming from anyone other than a beloved mentor turned friend though Yagi has always had the natural ability to soften blows when necessary. Mirio nods, blue eyes trained toward the ground and refusing to meet those of the man in the comfortable chair next to him. He dares to take a peek at the man who will forever be known as All Might, the thinness of his hands and arms and wrists alone a surprising sight. Time has run out. No medical science or quirk or act of God can reverse the inevitable. A transplant cannot save him, medicine will not save him, and he’s made the decision to be as comfortable as possible over the remaining weeks to months he has left.

Togata’s mind unconsciously drifts to you in all of this. You are the young woman who has devoted the latter half of her twenties to taking care of this iconic man, tending to his illnesses and the complications from them with a smile and a joke, a reassuring hand on his shoulder and a kiss on his forehead. The younger of the pair has witnessed this kindness himself on more than one occasion and he remembers when you were simply a Support course student at UA high school a year younger than Mirio himself. You assisted with equipment in the war and it has followed you through your adulthood, your support item safety consulting business thriving and helping build a safer world.

The way you care about everyone is so admirable, it’s difficult not to view you as a hero in all of this. Mirio raises a brow and balls his hands together into a fist, letting it rest in his lap.

“How does she feel about, well, everything?”

It’s a daring question to ask given the older man is well aware of the younger man’s affection toward you no matter how discreet he thinks he is about it. It’s the perpetual elephant in the room. Toshinori sighs, shifting in his chair and positioning his hands in his lap. Mirio’s eyes dart from them and toward the older man’s sallow face, noting the hint of a smile at the mention of you.

“She was the first person to know. It’s the least I could give her for wasting her youth on a sorry old man like me.”

Togata offers a tight smile and tilts his head to the side. The self deprecation isn’t anything new, it has been like this the last several years, though it never sits well when the man he has attempted to pattern his own morals over says something so blasphemous about himself.

“That’s a pretty downer way to look at things, All Might.”

This gets a chuckle from the older man, the sound of his head shaking against the back of his chair causing the younger one to look up at him curiously.

“It’s a pretty downer thing to die but telling you it’s coming isn’t the only reason I asked you here today.”

The older man clears his throat, wiping his thumb against his bottom lip and looking away, joining his hand in his lap. How can he properly phrase what he’s asking his young friend to do without it seeming sordid and disrespectful? He’s leaving you his legacy when he goes. His home, his royalties that will keep you well taken care of for the rest of your life and, well, he’s planning on leaving Mirio Togata the one gift he deserves the most - you.

He simply lays the plot down, hands still folded in his lap.

“How long have you loved her, kid?”

Mirio feigns shock that his mentor, the one who came after the one he lost years ago, is onto him. He has always played off his affection for you as friendliness and lingering glances as simply curiosity and assumed he has been doing it well enough that nobody notices.

“It’s not like that.”

Toshinori laughs, a weak cough wracking his body and he raises his fist to his grinning mouth to cover it. Mirio leans forward in his seat, reaching for the man who waves him off and instead leans to grab the bottle of hand sanitizer on the desk next to him.

“You are a grown man, Togata. Own up to it. It’s not going to offend me.”

There was no expectation of a trip down memory lane set for the younger man prior to arriving for this visit yet his mind launches into years of fuzzy and undefined memories. Evenings he’d come to visit you in the Support course workshop when he was younger with fewer scars covering his arms and torso, the few times in your early twenties you sat thigh to thigh with him in dimly lit izakaya hanging out with your mutual group of friends and their respective partners who are also heroes. He remembers too much and too little at the same time, skin crawling.

Shifting in his seat, he unclasps his hands and claps them against his thighs.

“A long, long time.” He finally responds and Toshinori chuckles in response, leaning back in his own chair and sliding one of his hands out toward Mirio. “Since I was in high school.”

The truth doesn’t hide forever. It makes him feel childish that he was so easily caught by the older man, replaying years of interactions in his head. Did he smile a little too wide at you? Glance a little too long? Pine a little too openly?

There is no way for him to change anything that has happened before now and the usually easy going man tensely lifts his head, meeting Toshinori’s soft gaze. There is no anger even if these events crossed boundaries, something the man is infinitely grateful for, and he reaches across the desk to take his mentor’s offered hand.

“I know.” He weakly squeezes the younger man’s hand, his lack of strength more evident than ever. Mirio feels emotion welling up inside of him and blinks it back, taking a deep breath. “That’s why I am asking you to give her the life I never could, Togata. Take her traveling when you can. Remind her that she’s brilliant and will probably keep this country safer than any hero ever could. Just…be there for her. For me.”

The request carries more weight than the older man could ever possibly understand. It’s not merely a responsibility but a strange kind of bequeathing. No formal paperwork, no meetings with officials, just two men discussing a woman they both care about deeply and how to best assuage her in the sorrows to come.

It also brings another question to Mirio’s mind he has contemplated for many years - do you have lingering feelings for him too? A far younger version of you, magnetism quirk engaged and using it to make him laugh, certainly did. He assumed those feelings just vaporized over time and with responsibility, your heart belonged to another man before he could ever ask that it be his.

A noble man. A good man who you did not want to see live lonely, by himself in his ailing years. A man Togata spent his entire life trying to emulate.

There’s a flutter of hope through the sorrow of knowing the end is coming for his friend and the younger man is the one to squeeze the older mans’ this time, gentle firm pressure to ensure it doesn’t hurt.

“I know it’s a big request. I don’t blame you if it makes you uncomfortable or if you’d like to say no,” Toshinori adds quickly. “I simply know that she cares about you a lot and always has.” His voice cracks and he swallows his sadness, only grateful that his life has been so glorious the last few years thanks to your gentle touch and your silly stories and your tendency to ad-lib songs to make him smile. “She deserves to be happy.”

The younger man couldn’t agree more. He nods, emotion continuing to rise, breaking eye contact to gaze down at his lap to allow him a moment to compose himself. For his entire twenties, he regretted losing his chance with you despite his gratefulness for the care and love you gave Toshinori. Now, entering his thirties, he gets the opportunity to try again. To speak up when he should and to put the feelings he has harbored for more than a decade to good use.

“I will do everything I can to make sure she is, you have my word.”

Even if it means you want nothing to do with him and keep yourself away from everyone forever. Whatever makes you happy, Mirio Togata will make sure you have it.

“I only have weeks. Months if I’m lucky but I don’t think I’m all that lucky anymore.”

The words make Mirio look up from his lap, brows furrowed. He didn’t think there was so little time left but he is a man of action and nods.

“Then let’s make these next few weeks memorable. What do you need me to do?”

A chuckle from the older man as he finally drops the younger one’s hand gently, tucking it back into his lap to join the other.

“For now, just be around if you can make it work.”

That he can do and he does for three more weeks.

On a warm spring day, a little past the end of cherry blossom season, the world loses All Might.

‘The days I spent with you were the happiest of my life. Let me take care of you for the rest of yours. - Toshinori’

The note he left you, the one you were handed by some man in a suit you’d never met before in the days following his death, rests on your desk. It feels too soon to tuck away the increasingly wrinkled piece of paper and you’re far too grateful for the life he has put between your two palms to stop glancing at the note every few hours each day.

It doesn’t answer any of the questions you have about what becomes of your life now though.

Emotion wells up in you again, a lump in your throat you have to swallow down to continue working, the results from your audit of the Dynamite agency’s safety audit on the screen of the tablet in front of you. They’re generally highly rated, Bakugou’s fastidious tendencies seeping through even the smallest detail of safety and care of his employees, but you have to look away. You close the screen cover and slide the device aside, standing up from your spot at the kitchen table to walk into the living room.

The house feels like a mausoleum even if it’s now yours and yours only. Being alone for the first time in weeks leaves a strange taste in your mouth and you fold your arms over your chest, padding across the wooden floors to plop down on the overstuffed couch you picked out three years ago. Deku’s wife spent a week by your side, the first seven days after the tremendous loss ensuring you ate and slept, sleeping in your bed with you and letting you cry on her shoulder. The day she went home hurt almost as badly as the day you lost the man himself, the encroaching loneliness feeling claustrophobic.

Thankfully, the second week was dotted with various visitors, your former classmates and long time friends of Toshinori paying their respects posthumously by being good to you in his departure. Dynamite’s wife tended to you and forced you out of your house, inviting you over with the promise of visiting with her eager to see you children.

The third week was much of the same, even chatting with his old friend David and accepting condolences from other heroes former and current. Your refrigerator stayed full, your mailbox overstuffed with more cards than you could open wishing you well and thanking you for taking care of him.

The fourth fewer people came but you still stayed busy. The fifth, same. The sixth, seventh, and eighth all followed suit although the amount of visitors thinned. Ninth, tenth, eleventh your house became empty outside of your close friends and Mirio. Now you are twelve weeks past his death and facing down a lifetime of uncertainty in a house that feels too large for you but too small for your pain.

Your heart swells recalling the love you’ve been given but it shrivels when you look around, wondering when it will start to feel full of life again; when you will.

Standing, you lumber over to the wall adjacent to where you sit, admiring the artwork and memories on the wall. There are photos of a freckle-faced teenager who became a freckle-faced man with his wife and children alongside Toshinori. Photos of Mirio grinning and giving a thumbs up in a vintage American All Might t-shirt that was almost too small for him. Photos of you and Toshinori smiling side by side when he was still well enough to attend the occasional event, you in glittering floor length sequins and him in a custom suit built to accommodate his ever weakening body.

Sighing, you reach out and brush your thumb along the frame. The photo doesn’t move, anchored into the wall, and you know that all of the care you gave him wasn’t wasted for a moment. He truly made your life better and you believe you did the same for him, though your eyes flit back to the photo of Mirio for a moment.

You took the picture a few years back while cleaning out the spare bedroom used solely for merchandise and collectables Toshinori had been given over the years. You accosted the younger blonde for pulling a shirt that was clearly too small for him over his head but snapped the photo anyway, grinning behind your phone at his silly posing.

Mirio.

He has been here for you almost as much as your closest friends, popping by daily if able with food or stories or just…sunshine, which is exactly what he is and always has been for the time you’ve known him. Even when the two of you were back in high school he knew your favorite candy and delivered it to your desk daily while spending his evenings sticking paper clips to your arm or the side of your face while your quirk was engaged.

Reaching into your pocket, you grab out your phone and dial his number. He answers before the first ring can even finish its trill.

“Hey-o, what are you doing?”

You giggle at his greeting though he hears the strain in your voice that indicates you are feeling down. He tucks his phone between his shoulder and ear, pulling his sweatpants on in the changing room of the agency, ready to head home.

“Nothing. I tried to work a little bit today and couldn’t focus. I’m sure Bakugou will bitch at me but his audit will simply have to wait another week.”

The man on the other end of the phone chuckles, rising to his full impressive stature and heading toward the exit.

“Do you need a distraction? I could come over.”

The offer is appreciated but you wrestle with how to respond to it. What you assumed were long forgotten feelings for Mirio surface every time you are around him and in your grief and confusion, you struggle to separate them from reality and what’s a balm to make you feel temporarily better. Would seeing him now, only three months removed from losing Toshinori, be appropriate? Is it what’s best?

“You don’t have to, I’m sure it was a long day.”

Togata scoffs, using his coded keycard to exit the building. The sun is still somewhat up, a hot summer evening encroaching and he does not want to go home when he could be spending time with you. The day exhausted him a bit, lots of petty crime picks up during the summertime, but he’s never too tired for you.

“Actually, this was the easiest shift I’ve had in a long time.” He’s lying and you can tell by the lilt in his voice, a particular tone he takes when he’s pretending everything is fine you’ve heard before but you are in no condition to press the issue. “I can pick you up in about thirty minutes and we can just drive if you want?”

You shake your head although he can’t see it. Part of you wants to say no, to rebuff your own feelings once and for all, but you’re weak and hurting and needy.

“We don’t have to go anywhere, we can just stay here if you want to come.”

And come he does, in that promised thirty minutes. He doesn’t bother to knock on the door anymore, punching in the code and announcing himself with a boisterous smile, then plopping down on the couch next to you.

It feels a lot more like coming home than it reasonably should but every time he feels guilty for envisioning his place in his life, next to you, he remembers the promise he made. He will make you happy no matter what that looks like.

Time passes so quickly when he’s around and it’s welcome to have something besides your own loneliness to listen to while he explains one of his heroic saves of the day, enthusiastically explaining phasing through a tree to capture a runaway attempted bank robber.

“So I caught the guy and somehow managed to save all the money too, which is crazy when you think about it. I thought the wind would carry half of it off but not today.”

You smile at him fondly, eyes crinkling at the corners, but he can tell something else is on your mind. Repositioning himself on the couch, he turns toward you and props his head up with his fist.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He has always been able to tell when something is bothering you and your brain screams that you should say no. You should turn down all of Mirio’s kindness and lock yourself inside of this home with your grief forever, a timeless pseudo-widow trapped in a prison of her own making.

But the warmth of his gaze encourages you so much, words bubble out of you before you can stop them, your hands instantly flying to your face to be pressed against your cheeks.

“Despite what people have said, I loved him.”

Mirio’s face falls into a concerned frown when he notices your eyes welling up, your glance firmly trained on his face. The papers were pretty harsh to you when the news of his death and your subsequent appointing the heir to his agency, legacy, and image were announced. Opportunistic seemed to be the media’s favorite term, honing in on the age and vitality difference between the two of you rather than the fact a fairly selfless young woman took care of him not knowing any of this was in her future.

You never took care of him in hopes of getting anything, only out of compassion for a man who has made the lives of others so much brighter. Who heals the healer? You took it upon yourself to be the one and you do not regret a moment of it, sitting cross legged at twenty-nine with a sense of pride despite it all.

“Maybe not in a conventional way. I never had,” your face falls a little, as though you’re fearful of reaction toward what you’re about to say. “You know…sex or anything with him. We kissed a few times, we held hands on occasion but my days and nights revolved around him for five years.”

Your voice breaks and immediately you push your thumbs against your eyes to keep yourself from crying where someone else can see it although the sniffling gives you away, sharp little inhalations through your nose.

“What do I do now?”

The question appears to be rhetorical though he feels compelled to answer, wrapping a reassuring arm around your shoulders and gently pulling you against his side. The lack of personal space between the two of you is honestly nothing new, certainly more so since Toshinori’s departure, and you settle into the warmth of him. It’s a comfort you need desperately, his fingers drumming a little beat of four into your shoulder.

“Whatever you want.”

You remove your thumbs from over your eyes, sensitive and red rimmed as they are, glancing at the man next to you carefully. The brightness of your living room causes you to squint and he reaches his free hand to wipe tears from your bottom lashes, his crooked index finger pressing delicately against your skin.

“I know that sounds callous and it probably is the wrong thing to say but your life isn’t over just because he isn’t here to watch you live it.” Now it’s Mirio’s voice that cracks and he clears his throat, hand flexing against where it rests on your upper arm. “He left you the tools to live however you want. You have a successful business, you are young and beautiful and…”

He trails off and you blink at him silently. The true feelings he has tried so desperately to hide for the years he has known you are seeping out of him. How much longer can he possibly hold it in before the pressure starts to cause cracks? Before it spills out of him wildly, an ode to you from a boy who has loved you since seventeen?

You stop him from spiraling, opening your mouth to speak while tears escape over his finger and roll down your face.

“I think I’m scared, Mirio.”

This is the first time you’ve admitted it, even to yourself. An undefined future is a terrifying prospect and while Toshinori was here, you were guaranteed to always have him. Scheduled pills and injections, showers and quality of life activities. Even your work is unstructured outside of your scheduled annual audits, only being called upon when you are needed.

He holds you against him, leaning down to press his lips against your forehead. This could be just what you need and although he worries about pushing boundaries, you prove his worries wrong by snuggling further into his side. Your tears drip onto the cotton of his t-shirt and he uses his second hand to begin wiping them away, shushing you gently and affectionately.

“It’s okay to be afraid, he wouldn’t judge you for that, but don’t let it make you waste the opportunity to live exactly how you want.” His words are comforting and you nod against his chest, sniffling. “There is no right or wrong way to handle this.”

This is the first time anyone has told you that it’s okay to not know what to do right now. Not that you’ve ever asked, too fearful of making missteps to try and prevent them at all. You need reassurance and although you’ve been given it, it’s hard not to seek it from a man you’ve found so much comfort in over the past few months. He has been vulnerable with you, it seems only right to do the same for him in return.

Sighing, you unbury your face from his chest. “Do you think I’m doing okay?”

There is a version of you, more than a decade younger than you are now, that lives in Mirio’s mind and he sees her in the way you look up at him with uncertain eyes. It strikes him how long the two of you have known each other; how long he has been dancing around his feelings for you. He nods, removing his arm from your shoulder to cup your cheeks in his palms.

The urge to kiss away those tears is strong but he talks himself down, tilting your head until your gazes fully meet. All of the love he has kept to himself for a decade further threatens to spill out. He stops himself, self restraint a requirement of being a hero after all, and his thumbs gently stroke the rose petal soft skin beneath them.

“You’re doing better with all of this than anyone else ever could.”

There are no words he has ever meant more than these besides the ones he decides to keep to himself, saving the oft considered ‘I love you’ for another day.

“Thank you. For everything. I kind of worry I’m asking too much from you,” you rush to apologize and he keeps his grip on your face gentle but firm.

“You can ask me for anything you need.”

He means it more than he meant his promise to the last man that loved you.

“Alright, I think we’ve had as much fun as we are going to have. Babysitters get paid hourly, you know.”

Katsuki wraps his arm around his wife’s shoulders, pulling her close to him beneath the same lights the six of you used to drink under a long time ago while saying his goodbye. He has never been much of a drinker and hasn’t indulged even a bit tonight but his wife’s relaxed expression gives away how many beers she’s had and you giggle at her, squeezing her hand as she walks by on their way out.

“Be careful you two,” you call after them, Mirio turning to look at you while you glance over your shoulder. Only Midoriya and his wife remain seated across from you two, snuggled in the corner of their side of the booth. Deku’s ever lovely better half raises a brow and nudges her husband in the ribs gently, subtly motioning toward where the pair of you sit.

This is the first night you’ve really enjoyed yourself in the six months since you’ve lost Toshinori. It has been a great walk down a memory lane you haven’t bothered to explore in a long time.

“Gosh, he’s so grumpy,” you laugh to yourself and Mirio giggles beside you, looking as smitten as he always does. Izuku notices it and looks down at his wife, the two of them communicating wordlessly by the time you glance at them. “I’m guessing you two are next to head home?” You tease, your own brain slightly hazy from the few beers you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in.

A little voice in the back of your head made you fear showing your face in public, especially after the scrutiny that came so few months ago, but nobody has taken a second glance at your group of friends despite all of the men in the group landing in the top five of the Hero standings. It appears whatever backlash was sparked has faded quickly. You make a note to thank the classmates you had that now work in the media who were likely behind it, hoping you remember it later.

You haven’t just had a good time tonight, you’ve had a great one. Smiling gratefully, you look over at your two remaining friends.

“Like Kacchan said, babysitters are paid hourly,” Deku raises his brows and shrugs. His wife kisses his cheek, beginning to slide out of the booth while he holds onto her hand and follows.

Mirio nods at Izuku and smiles at his wife, having known the two of them since high school as well, the same story with the now gone Bakugou’s.

“Get that beautiful wife of yours home safe, Deku.” He jokes with a chuckle and his friend laughs in response, reaching across the table to pat his shoulder and then yours.

It’s hard for him to believe how much has changed over these years but how much has remained the same simultaneously. His close friends married their high school sweethearts and settled into their family life, kids and recitals and dinner parties. A piece of him has wondered for years if that could have been the two of you as well if he’d left less up to chance as a young man.

Does it do any good to wonder? Mirio doesn’t know yet he does often, tonight especially.

“You ready to go?”

A little lost in your own world, you look up at him with your eyebrows raised and nod slowly. He looks so handsome, even in this poorly lit room, and heat rises in your face straight to the tips of your ears. It has been a long time since you’ve felt that particular heat, the kind that makes your stomach flip flop.

Would it be wrong of you to ask him if he wants to hang out with you for a little while longer? You don’t have ill intentions in wanting to spend time with him, at least that’s what you tell yourself, and the few beers have made you feel brave.

“Do you wanna hang out with me for a little while? We can just go back to the house or find somewhere else or…” you trail off slightly, a little self conscious. Do you seem desperate? Lonely? Annoying? “If you don’t want to though, I understand.”

Finishing your question hurriedly, you glance up at Mirio who looks at you with that same earnest stare he has given you for years. There are depths in those pretty blue eyes, humor and pain that he has experienced and joy and so much. There is simply so much more to this man than most people know and unexpectedly, it isn’t just your face that feels too hot, it’s the entire room.

“Of course I do. Let me just take you home and we can hang out there, that way I’m not keeping a lady out too late.”

He knows he’s taking a risk by being outright flirtatious with you after months of trying to keep it subtle. He is but a man and knows that look, though. That ‘through the lashes, lips slightly parted, beautiful woman who wants to spend time with you’ look. He’d be a fool to say no, even if you two do nothing but talk for hours. There’s nothing else he’d rather do with the remnants of his night anyway.

“After you,” he offers with a bright grin. The few beers he has had make his cheeks pink and you want to reach out and touch them but refrain, uncertain of how to do all of this correctly. You’ve never really dated, outside of a few hookups in your early twenties, so this is truly foreign territory. It’s a lot to wrestle with the guilt of moving on, something you have reluctantly admitted to yourself it seems you’re doing, and the weight of grief on your shoulders at all times.

When does it ever get better or at the very least, when does it become less of a struggle?

Saving those questions for another, less fun evening you slide out of the booth and he follows after, placing his hand against your back to walk you out of the bar. It feels natural, his fingers splayed across your spine and heat once again blooms. It’s embarrassing to feel so excited by sheer touch.

Your relationship with Toshinori was never sexual. Always a companion more so than a lover despite the deep love that bloomed between the two of you, you spent a lot of nights in a different bed exploring your own body while he slept in his own room down the hall. This was always the arrangement, comfortable for both of you. He was physically incapable of having sex and you never wanted to make him feel like less because of it, still complimenting his appearance and doing your best to make him feel attractive. Which he was, even until the end that smile and those jovial blue eyes had the ability to light up a room.

It’s just different with Mirio. This isn’t the first time that heat has bloomed beneath your belly button, begging you to follow it all the way down a rabbit hole you aren’t quite sure you are ready for and the alcohol is making it worse tonight. If he can tell, he’s being a gentleman about it, something to be grateful about.

The two of you stand in the now cool autumn night air, the city still noisy outside. The breeze chills your warm cheeks and you look up at him to find him glancing down at you, wearing an expression that tells him some of the same things on your mind are on his.

“What are you thinking about?”

The question is laced with humor, as most of what the man says tends to be, and you feel caught with your pants down. Playing it off with a giggle, you decide to push back; to make him feel like he’s the one being surveyed instead.

“Why didn’t you kiss me when we were in high school?”

The topic of first kisses came up tonight, your friends reminiscing about how they’ve shared their first everything together throughout the years, and you recall yours being lackluster. Some guy you went to college with named Dai who slobbered all over your face your first year.

Certainly not who you would’ve preferred sharing a kiss with.

Your question has caught Mirio off guard and he rubs his neck, scrunching his nose and refusing to make eye contact with you. The truth is that he was simply too afraid to make a move and by the time he was able to, it felt improper given the conflict and all that happened.

It was hardly a time for making a move on the girl you had a crush on and the two of you just went your separate ways after that. He became a Pro Hero, working his way up into the top 15 within his first year and then the top 10 the next and only climbing from there, you went to college to pursue your public safety certification. By the time you were able to reconnect in your early twenties, your lives had diverged so wildly it no longer felt appropriate to, well, go after you.

“I don’t know,” he finally says. “I think I was afraid you didn’t like me back.” Snorting, you attempt to stifle your laughter. He glances down at you, tilting his head, feigning offense.

“Really? I’m being honest with you and you’re going to laugh at me?”

Wrapping your arm around his bicep, you attempt damage control by resting your head against him. A breathy sigh leaves you and you glance upward to catch him staring down at you once again.

“I had such a crush on you that even Hatsume gave me shit about it.” You speak through your nose, attempting the now most sought after equipment outfitter in all of Japan's higher voice and inflection. “Where’s your little boyfriend, magnet girl?”

The two of you devolve into a fit of childish giggles, not unlike the ones you shared back then, and without warning he leans in close to you. You still cling to his bicep but he’s bent at the waist, lips inches from yours, one of his hands reaching to rest against the side of your neck.

“Can I make up for it now?”

Ocean eyes search yours, pleading for an answer. All of that heat courses through your body at once and without putting too much thought into any real consequence, you nod. Just a kiss won’t hurt either of you, for old time’s sake regardless of what may or may not be blooming here. Mirio closes the distance between the two of you and gently brushes his lips against yours, gentlemanly and chivalrous even in the throes his tremendous need to touch and feel and be close to you, and you whimper when he pulls away sooner than you liked.

“Was that okay?”

Giggling, you lean in and kiss him again to give him his reply. It was more than okay, it was everything you’ve ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, a sharp comparison to the well kept and bulky rest of him that you have had to stop yourself from eyeing hungrily on more than one occasion. His mouth tastes like salt and beer and love.

Pure love lives on his tongue that is working its way into your mouth while he hurriedly backs you two into a narrow alleyway between the bar you just left and the building next to it. His knee rests between your barely parted legs and your hands reach for anything they can grab, forearms and biceps and his shoulders and chest. You touch recklessly, one hand sliding up the side of his neck to cup his jaw and the other rubbing circles just beneath the hem of his shirt, above his belt buckle.

“Hey,” he stops you unexpectedly to catch his breath, chest heaving while he glances down at you. “I want to keep this going but I have to tell you first that I love you.”

There it is. The thing he has been keeping to himself for twelve long, torturous years. Mirio loves you so fiercely he wonders how he’s managed to even breathe the last 12 years without you by his side, your laughter and light filling his days and nights no matter how they go.

How could he ever live without you again? He isn’t sure that he could.

Blinking up at him, you slide your hand further up his face and tousle his blonde hair between your fingers.

“I don’t care if it’s too soon for you to say it back or if you ever will but I love you. I have for such a long time it hurts to keep it to myself any longer.”

The smile on your face turns into a full blown grin, fingers still snaked in his hair. Maybe it’s too soon, maybe lust is winning the battle between your wits and your heart or maybe this is a chance to say something you’ve felt for longer than you realized.

“I love you too, Mirio.”

It doesn’t make your love for Toshinori any less real to admit you love the man who has been by your side for virtually 24 hours a day for the last six months and long before that too.

He leans back in and kisses you again, silencing any thoughts other than the two of you and it leaves you breathless, gently grinding against his jean clad thigh and sucking on his tongue. Another pause and he pulls away, cupping your face.

“Take me home with you.”

It isn’t a plea of desperation but one of pure unadulterated need. He needs you, any way you’ll let him have you, tonight.

Nodding, you close the distance and press your lips against his.

“Let’s go.”

In all the time that has passed since you lost Toshinori, your home feels a little brighter when you arise in it each day.

It feels like somewhere you can build your own life now instead of living trapped inside the memory of his. You were concerned that changing anything about this place would rob you of the comfort of having once loved the man who left it to your care but you know he wouldn’t want you to stand in one place for long. All those months ago, Mirio was right when he told you that Toshinori would want you to make the best of what you’ve been given.

Move forward, he’d assure you if he were still here. Be yourself and find happiness.

Despite all the ways you’re still healing, you have.

You think about him every day. You will forever, regardless of the nature of your relationship and how other people view it. Some days the memory of him cuts through you like a knife, especially the last year of your life with him spent doing a lot more caretaking than you’d done the prior four, and other days it’s a gentle breeze. A whisper and reminder that he’s watching you, he loves you, he’s proud of you.

You’ve done the All Might legacy well, donating a large chunk of his fortune back to the communities he so committedly served. Scholarships for students who want to go to hero academies but may not have the pedigree or wealth to let them in, rebuilding the last remnants of an over decade old war that still scar areas of Musutafu tourists don’t visit.

The dreams you have yet to fulfill with what you’ve been provided make your future seem more full than ever. Hospitals bearing his name, education about the balance of hero life and personal life, safety equipment becoming better than ever. Your ambitions are big and you will make them all come true, a vow you made to him on the day he died even if he wasn’t cognizant enough to understand what you were saying.

This is all for him, dearly departed, a man you cared so deeply about you would’ve taken care of him for ten more years if you had to. You’re grateful it didn’t come to that if only for his sake, the suffering his ailing body was facing more than you like to think about even today, but all things considered it was a good life.

Even the papers have commended the woman they once referred to as an amoral opportunist.

Maybe you aren’t so bad after all.

And today when your feet hit the ground, the sun rises and fills the room with light through the gauzy curtains you put up a few months back. The cat you recently adopted twines himself around your legs and looks up at you expectantly, breakfast already a few minutes late. You couldn’t go long without having something new to take care of, the cat was once a beat up little thing brought to you by Lemillion himself one evening after a shift that has grown into a demanding beast.

“Saving little lost cats is a bit cliche, isn’t it?” You joked when he unzipped his hooded sweatshirt and produced the fuzzy, green eyed lump that mewed at you the moment he saw you. Mirio grinned and half shrugged. “Yeah but I’m good at it, right?”

Good he is, you think looking over at his still sleeping form in your bed.

For some, it may be too soon to cautiously lend your heart to another man. You love Toshinori and always will, the impact he left on your life is profound in ways you’ll discover for years to come, but a part of you has always loved Mirio even if circumstances prevented the pair of you from being together. He was once a silly teenager who was too afraid to ask you to be his girlfriend when he graduated high school, satisfied to leave things up to fate, and now he is a grown man who has been by your side through the most painful loss of your life so far, holding you together on the days when you were worried you would crumble.

Both of you are grateful that fate decided well although she took her time and brought a lot of pain on her way.

Instead of getting out of bed, you lean down and pick up your now purring cat and slide back into bed beside him, his hands instinctively reaching behind him for your thighs to pull you closer.

“I didn’t think you were awake,” you whisper and he chuckles, scarred hand running up the expanse of your thigh while your cat climbs onto his shoulder and licks his face. There’s no use in trying to carefully swat the creature away so he lets him settle onto the pillow above his head.

“I always notice when you get up and I have to fight the urge to follow you.”

Giggling, you wrap yourself around his back and rest your cheek between his bare shoulder blades.

“Why’s that?”

He finally turns to face you, blue eyes glancing down at the thing he has wanted for years. Your unmade, half awake face. The domesticity of your cat purring above both of your heads. The promise of packing to take a week off from heroics to go and enjoy a far off destination neither of you have been together.

“In case I ever lose you again,” he admits vulnerably and you smile up at him, hand reaching to cup his cheek.

The half awake mumblings have more truth to them then you could possibly imagine, fear that something else will hurt you or pull you away from him. Fear that he’s going to waste his time again, precious days he has always wanted to spend with you meaning nothing because he’s too cowardly to fight for what he wants. Maybe a younger version of Mirio Togata would have let this happen but not this one, older and wiser that he is.

The ring he plans on proposing to you with this week is nestled in his suitcase, buried beneath too many pairs of socks and probably too few pairs of boxers. He won’t even mind a long engagement, if you need one, as long as he knows forever with you is what waits on the other side.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I think we’re stuck together for life after all we’ve been through.”

As he promised his mentor a few months over a year ago, he will ensure that you are.

#all might x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #mirio togata x reader #lemillion x reader #kendall writes #cw death

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angelltheninth · 4 months

Text

SFW Masterlist Part 8

DC COMICS

Awkward Boyfriend Dick Grayson

Clark Kent x Fem!Reader - Don't Think Too Now

Bartender Jason Todd Flirts with You

Ex-Boyfriend Jason Todd Being Jealous

Batman Family Men and Their Love Languages

Dick Grayson Being Jealous

Hooking Up with Prince Oliver Queen at a Tavern

Clark Kent x Fem!Reader - The Heroic Build

Bruce, Jason, Dick, Clark and Oliver Save You from A Hostage Situation

Jaime Tries to Keep His Suit From Acting Up Around You

Dodging Jason's Kiss as a Joke

MARVEL

MCU Characters Seeing You Walk Out of the Shower

Helping a Stressed Stephen Strange Relax

Welcoming Valkyrie Home

Romance Tropes with Marvel Characters

Scott Summers with a Very Affectionate Girlfriend

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader - Superheroes with Style

Erik Killmonger Marking You

Peter Parker Being a Hopeless Romantic

Steve, Bucky, Clint, Kate, Logan and Matt as Bodyguards

Bucky Reacting to You Smacking His Ass

SPIDERVERSE

Miguel O'Hara with a Short Girlfriend

Finding Out Spiderverse Character's Real Identity

Pining Best Friends to Lovers with Miles Morales

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader - The Sound of a Nervous Heartbeat

Peter B. Parker when You're Pregnant

Miguel O'Hara Being a Secret Softie

Hobie Brown x Reader - Perfect Score

Cuddling and Doubt with Ben Reilly

Finding Out Miles and Aaron are the Prowler

VALORANT

Deadlock x Reader - Lips Locked Together

Yoru Wakes You Up with Kisses

Pining Iso Wants Alone Time With You

Iso x Reader - On His Camera Roll

CALL OF DUTY

Bar Meet-Cute with Simon Riley

Feverish Simon Riley Confesses to You

Simon Riley Sleepwalking and Kissing You

Big and Affectionate Simon Riley

Task Force 141 Help You Move in With Them

Best Friend Simon Riley Makes Out with You During a Movie

Kissing with Simon Riley While Sharing His Hoodie

STRANGER THINGS

Stranger Things Men when You Tell Them You Don't Want Kids

Jealous Eddie Munson

Stranger Things Men as Professors

Injured Eddie Munson Confesses to You

HONKAI STAR RAIL

Honkai Star Rail Men + Five More Minutes

Honkai Star Rail Men + Showing Jealousy

Honkai Star Rail Men + Are We Dating

Dan Heng x Reader - Don't Get Shy Now

Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Kafka and Welt + Making Out

Overworked Welt Headcanons

Honkai Star Rail Characters Comforting You After a Nightmare

Gapard x Fem!Reader - Meet the Expectations

Public Display of Affection with Dan Heng

GENSHIN IMPACT

Boxer Al-Haitham Shows Off in the Ring

Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Al-Haitham and Kaveh when You Have a Fancy Dress

Touch-starved Al-Haitham

Childe, Capitano, Dottore, Al-Haitham Being Ignored

Genshin Men + Leg Up During a Kiss

Diluc and Al-Haitham + Let's Make Out

Getting Injured on a Mission with Scaramouch

More Than Friends Less Than Lovers with Kaeya, Diluc, Childe and Zhongli

Genshin Characters + How Much They Kiss You

Genshin Characters Comparing Hands as an Excuse to Hold Your Hand

Bringing Snacks to CEO Ayato Kamisato

Neuvillette Struggling to Understand Human Affection

TWISTED WONDERLAND

Rook Hunt Sneaking Out Early in the Morning

TWST Dorm Leaders Doing Body Shots

Working for Malleus Draconia

TWST Men Touch You on Accident

Leona Purring when You Give Him Head Pats

Idia Being Tired and Stubborn About It

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

Apology Kisses with Deku, Bakugo, Kirishima and Dabi

Seven Minutes in Heaven with Bakugo

Band Member Bakugo Corners You in the Back Alley

Lovesick Izuku, Bakugo, Shoto, Kirishima and Mirio

Cocky Firefighter Bakugo Katsuki

BNHA Men Dating a Reporter

BNHA Men when You Have A Near Death Experience During a Mission

Having Hawks as Your Flirty Rival

JUJTSU KAISEN

Gojo Being Too Dense to Realize Your Feelings

Jujutsu Kaisen Characters + Wedding Preferences

Ditching Class with Gojo

You Get Jealous Over a Woman Flirting with Toji

Nightclub Owner Yuuji Looks Out for You

Gojo Flirting with You During Class

Sukuna and You Get Interrupted By Your Kid

Lovesick Jujutsu Kaisen Characters

TRIGUN

Watching the Meteor Shower with Vash

Vash Being Yours For a Few Weeks

Vash, Nicholas, Millions Knives + Accidental Confession

BLUC LOCK

Isagi, Sae, Rin and Nagi with a Jealous and Possessive S/O

Sae Itoshi as Your Charming Assassin

Having a Vacation Fling with Blue Lock Boys

Reo, Barou and Kaiser with a Trophy Wife

Best Friends to Lovers with Sae Itoshi

Blue Lock Guys Working at a Butler Café

STAR WARS

Anakin x Reader - Each Other's Secret

Taking Care of Workaholic Star Wars Men

Romance Tropes with Star Wars Characters

#dc comics x reader #marvel x reader #spiderverse x reader #valorant x reader #call of duty x reader #stranger things x reader #genshin impact x reader #honkai star rail x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #trigun x reader #blue lock x reader #star wars x reader

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mamayan · 7 months

Note

I'm here to ask for more Mirio filth if you're taking requests ml🧎🏽‍♀️

Wishing you a happy birthday love ♡

“Mirio…!” Your squeal of pleasure and shock echoed, the bathroom reverberating the sound in the foggy damp space. The erotic noises your body was making nearly rivaled the rivets of water on tiles as the shower droned on.

He couldn’t answer, because it would mean dragging his face from your dripping folds, where his tongue had been continually lapped at your puffy clit as he worked to draw another orgasm from you.

You had no where to go. Your stomach against the bathroom counter with your torso draped over, forearms resting on cool granite and sweat causing you to scramble for purchase. He was behind you on his knees, working his aching cock with one hand and using the other to spread your ass so he could feast on your cunt like the birthday cake you’d shared earlier.

Your pro-hero lover more excited for this day than even you, awake before the sun could even dust the horizon with color and making you breakfast. Then it’d been time with friends and family, his eager and jovial smile brighter than anything as he swung you from place to place all day. Filling your birthday with the sounds of laughter and cheer, celebrating the gift you were to him.

He’d pulled you aside closer to evening, pulling you taunt against his muscular chest and wrapping you up to whisper in your ear his wicked intentions for later.

“Sunshine, when we get home, should I give you a reward for how good you’ve been for me?” It had sent shivers down your spine, making you achy and needy for when you’d both be alone together. It only amused him, the way you hastened the night to a close to escape with him back to your shared home. Boldly dragging his hand under your dress once you’d entered the car, so his thick fingers could feel how you’d soaked through your underwear. It nearly made him feral, his signature grin strained and leaning towards a snarl as he easily tugged the fabric covering you to the side and slipping a finger into your velvety soft heat. “I spoke about giving you a reward sunshine, but I think you’re begging for a punishment like this,” despite his words he happily fingering your tight hole while you mewled in the passenger seat, legs spreading wider to let him slip a second finger inside. It hardly mattered that your slick was soaking into the leather beneath you, your core tightening as he curled his fingers and pumped quickly in and out of you, shiny arousal coating his hand as you cried and came for him just as the vehicle slowed to a stop.

His blue eyes were hidden behind closed lids, but his smile was nothing short of tight and strained as he unbuckled your seat belt for you, hoping out of the car and coming around to your side to open the door.

He yanked you out, pulling your dress down and bringing you in for a searing wet kiss, his tongue waring with your own as he almost danced you into the house. Then he’d ate your pussy on the kitchen table before feeding you left over cake, before he speared you on his thick cock and made you ride him until you creamed his dick too.

When he’d filled your cute cunt up, he’d taken you into the bathroom with intentions of a shower and massage for you but…

“Mirio m’gonna cum—!” You wanted to get away, your overstimulated clit almost painful to the touch as he gently licked and sucked, your dripping hole begging to be filled again.

When his palm connects with your ass, you’re gone. Clamping down around nothing, your cunt spasms and soaks his face, his tongue happily drinking you down as you moan and cry out, eyes opening for a brief moment and seeing your reflection in the steamy mirror.

You looked debauched.

“So good for me aren’t you sunshine? You want my cock again?” He’s standing up to his full height, placing a hand softly over the dip in your spine and pushing you further down as he sees where you’re looking.

“Oh? You see your own gorgeous face and get star struck?” He chuckles, pearly teeth reflected through the mirror as he lines his soft squishy tip up with your tight entrance. It was when you looked down to turn and see behind you when you felt his other hand grip the back of your neck and turn your head back. “Nuh uh, go ahead watch me fuck you sunshine, I want you to see how messy I can make you.” He finishes his sentence but surging forward, cock easily stretching you out and filling you up again.

This time you see your own face too. How your pupils seems to dilate as he begins a brutal pace of bullying your poor slit, thick veiny rod hard like steel as he shoves himself inside you like he’s angry. Your mouth hangs open as you cry out, fingers gripping the counter like a life line as he shifts his hand on your back down, digging his fingers into the pudge of your hips to keep you from hitting the counter too hard.

He kicks your legs open wider, making you gasp as he sinks even deeper, nudging up against your cervix as a thin line of drool slips from your lips, his hands keeping you in place as he fucks you.

“That’s it baby, go ahead and let go for me, I got you.” His blonde hair is tousled from your earlier love making, your hands having fluffed it up further and caused it to fall a bit into his eyes now. He merely shakes his head, concentrating on fucking as deeply as possible into you now, watching his dick get crushed each time he thrusts inside your slick heat. His muscles contract, but when he picks up the pace and has you nearly delirious, your eyes catch yourself again.

“So beautiful sunshine, you gonna let me fill you up again?” He laughs gently juxtaposed to his rough handling of your abused cunt, his hips never faltering as he sweetly coos as your fucked out face. He can’t tell if you nodded or if it’s from the force of his thrusts, but as his balls draw tight, he can only grit his teeth as your cunt bursts and grips him like a vice, your walls milking him as you cum.

“Shit, there you go, that’s my girl,” he pants, still moving his hips as best he can with how tight you’re gripping him, moaning as your face drops to the cool counter top as your orgasm washes over you. He’s filling you up seconds later, groaning loudly as he pushes his twitching tip right against your womb while he shoots his load.

“Hey sunshine, you doing okay?” He lets you rest a moment, softly smoothing over the skin on your back as you catch your breath.

“Mm,” is all he gets, your cute lazy response all he needs to help you up as he takes you over to the shower.

He props you against his chest while letting the spray of warm water wash down your skin, his head tilting down so he can capture your lips in a more intimate sweet kiss than earlier.

“Happy birthday sunshine,” he whispers.

Post dividers by @cafekitsune

#happy birthday!#Mirio Togata #Mirio Togata smut #bnha Mirio smut #mha Mirio smut #request filled #bnha smut #mha smut #quick Drabble #Mirio fluff

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takes1 · 3 months

Text

poly tamaki/reader/mirio airbnb trip (p.?)

so i got a partner, work and school picked up, and abandoned public writing for a while (2ish years) lmao. no excuses, life happens, I'm sorry for anyone that requested things while i was gone. this started as a passion but turned a little sour after a while. so I'm just posting what i want i think? and i hope people like that enough. i really wanted to post something and break my streak though! i will never not love poly tamaki/mirio so here's a little nugget of a series i want to start

warnings. suggestive, alcohol mentioned, 'teaser' trailer of sorts

details. 267 words. fem!reader, jealous!mirio, secret relationship, best friends to lovers, slowburn? eventual smut

🤍 new series. part ? of airbnb prompt -> description. during a boozy and debaucherous winter airbnb trip with the senior class, feelings amongst friends are revealed and acted upon

more links. my ao3 / my other writings here

"You know where (Y/n) is? She was supposed to..." He peered around Tamaki's shoulder, eyes scanning over some clothes on the dark floor, "--Grab some beers."

Tamaki filled up a little more space in the doorway, leaning in an unnatural manner. His mind was scattered and he stumbled over many phrases. Mirio's heart pounded up to his ears.

"What?" He asked, sizing him up and tilting his head. He, too, leaned on the doorway, unafraid of getting close.

Tamaki spoke up, but remained unable to lie very well, "She's- yeah, she said she was gonna get them a while ago," He shook his head and was done babbling, eyes cast to the hardwood floors.

Mirio tilted his head down more, inches from his warm, partially sticky face.

They were speaking very quietly, but the tension was so thick you could cut the air with a knife.

"Yeah?" He tested, lifting his tone.

"Yeahh," Tamaki sighed with a small, sheepish glance forward.

"Yeah." Mirio sighed back, hand sliding off the door.

For a moment, he lingered, ears reddened with embarrassment and insecurity, and Tamaki's breath stilled for fear he would throw a punch, or a shove. But he knew where his jealousy had gotten him before, how pointless an argument would be, especially if his suspicions were somehow false.

"Okay, bud," He walked away with another disapproving glance, but Tamaki was so busy looking at his feet that he didn't see it.

Mirio didn't even try looking around after that. He went straight to the fridge, picked up 7 beers (5 for everyone else, 2 for himself), and joined the commotion outside once more.

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atarathegreat · 3 months

Text

Sleepy Time Mirio Togata

Showing that he was stressed out wasn't who Mirio was. Hero work took it's toll after a while, whether you were Endeavor or Hound Dog.

"Lemillion, sir?" One of the many assistants was peeking in his office, "It's after hours." She was right, it was after midnight and Mirio wasn't an overnight hero. Mirio sighed and thanked her for reminding him as she walked off. 1:30 in the morning for a man who was usually home for a delicious dinner and spent an hour watching tv with his beautiful wife was too late and too upsetting. Not only had he not eaten since midday, but he was also unable to spend time with the woman he loved before waking up the next day and doing it again.

The clanging of his locker opening filled the empty changing room, making him groan. If one more thing was loud and bothered his brain, Mirio was sure he would lose it. With his gloves tucked neatly in the bottom of his locker, he kicked off his shoes and placed them in with. An unanswered call home told him that Y/n was asleep, as expected at such a late hour.

Street lights revealed his way home. Mirio just wanted to be home, wished he would've been home hours ago instead of ever having woke up for work. Dark alleyways and brightly lit store fronts assaulted his eyes as he tried to stay focused on road signs and street lights.

He felt guilty, so guilty, for opening the door and dropping his keys loudly. A heavy sigh scratched at his already dry throat, but he could tell that Y/n had gone around and placed her hands on the very wallpaper. Mirio was eternally grateful for his wifes quirk, the way her simple handprint could exude calm like a lavender candle, no matter it's placement.

"Baby?" Mirio spoke softly as he walked into their room, slipping from his jeans. Waking her up wasn't really his plan, but he would love to speak with her for at least a little bit.

Y/n was laid on her stomach, soft snores sliding from her lips and reaching his ears. He loved her, more than he thought was probably healthy, but he loved her. Just the way she was laying, the fact that he knew she wasn't wearing any bottoms under that blanket, and her thin tank top was enough to make him stare. Groaning, he palmed his crotch as he thought about her body. Y/n shifted slightly as Mirio pulled the blanket from her, folding it out of his way as he settled between her legs, using his knee to spread one of her legs wider.

"Baby?" He pressed himself to her back, slipping his hands under her and groping at her breast, "Wake up, honey."

She hummed in her sleep, hardly a reply for the man who wanted to hear her voice, but he wasn't in a position to complain. He'd left her at home all day and missed their time together. The way she wiggled rubbed her bottom on his cock, making him hiss into her skin. Mirio couldn't take it and shoved his boxers off his thighs, "I'm sorry, baby, I know I should wake you up."

He hooked his fingers in her panties and moved the fabric aside, making her groan disapproval at the cold air that he didn't doubt was taunting her cunt as much as it was taunting him. "Just a second, baby," Mirio spit into his hand, rubbing it along his length, "it'll get warm again."

"Oh, hell..." Mirio rubbed his saliva coated tip through her folds, feeling the slight relief only her contact brought him. "Little wider, sweetheart." Mirio bent her knee, picking her up a little to stuff a pillow under her hips. Soft kisses were trailed across her shoulders, his hand gently rubbing his tip around her entrance. "God, I'm sorry, Y/n." Mirio grunted as he pushed all the way in, bottoming out as softly and quickly as possible. The way Y/n's brows knit together and her soft moans went straight through his body and twitched in his dick.

Slow, deep thrusts pulled silent grunts from the tired hero, his hands wrapping back around and groping his lovers breasts. Panted breaths blew heat onto her neck, whiny moans escaping her as a heat in her own body woke her. "M-Mirio?" Her breathy voice caused his grip on her tits to tighten. Mirio placed a chaste kiss to the back of her neck, "I'm sorry, baby."

She gripped the pillow under her head, "Fair trade, since we missed our movie." And Mirio laughed, thrusting deeper into her warmth, "Will you leave a handprint on me?" Fuck, Mirio was almost too far gone in her body that he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer. "Finish this and I will." She nodded, scooting her legs under her to raise her body into him. Mirio leaned back and squeezed her hips. "Hold tight." Was the only warning received before Mirio started pounding into her, his own whimpers joining in with her loud moans.

"Sorry, baby." Mirio panted, grabbing her wrists and holding her up as he went faster, eyes trained on where his cock was disappearing into her, "You're holding me perfectly, I can't take it."

"Oh, yes you can." Her sounds were honey. Mirio was always lost in her voice, but when it was breathy and tired and whining, it was like his dick took on all the thinking. He could feel his tip hitting as deep as her body allowed, her gasps confirming that he was hitting right where she needed him. "Gonna come for me, baby?" Mirio chuckled, dropping her chest into the mattress. Once more, her whines were enough of an answer for him, enough of a silent plea for him to go a little faster. "Shit, Miri!" She moved her ass to meet his thrusts, her breath hitching each time his cock kissed that sweet little spot that she loved. Mirio's eyes rolled back as she came, her cunt squeezing him and milking out his own orgasm.

"I'm sorry, baby, I should've woke you up first." Mirio rested his head on her back. Her giggles reached his ears and she wrapped her fingers around his wrist, leaving her print, "Apologize by making breakfast in the morning."

#anime #manga #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #fanfiction #x reader #mirio togata #mirio x reader #mha mirio #bnha mirio

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loveing-eyes · 1 year

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falling asleep on tamaki

it was brought to my attention i accidentally left him out of the request I am very sorry anon

tamaki amajiki

•you two were sitting in his room talking to mirio and nejire well you had been talking to her earlier

•it was getting late around 2am and well nejire was already asleep had been since 11 and your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier the sleeping plan was for you to sleep on the blow-up mattress with nejire

• now your original plan was to rest your head on tamakis shoulder and blink yourself awake keyword was

•the moment you tried going to his shoulder you missed falling over and landing on his lap

•mirio and tamaki stopped talking and you could feel tamakis face turn a bright red and the way mirio wanted to phase out of the bed

•"ok I guess ill take the floor lover boy" mirio joked as you shifted your body closer to tamakis knowing they wouldn't force you out of the bed

•his hand went around your abdomen pulling you closer as he laid a blanket over you

• after a while their whispers wouldn't let you sleep so you turn over wrapping your arms around tamakis waist again silencing the other two again

•"ok night man" you heard mirio mumble as tamakis bedside lamp turn off and you felt him shifting around and his waist moved down and you realized he was trying to lay down thinking you were asleep so you quickly loosened th grip just enough so he could get comfortable

•when he got comfortable you waited a few minutes crawl on top of him laying your head in the crook of his neck and kissing it softly before moving down to his chest taking your spot wrapping your arms around him finally dozing off

#tamaki fluff #tamaki headcanons #tamaki amajiki #mha tamaki #tamaki x reader #tamaki x y/n #tamaki x you #mha headcanons

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those-lavender-bones · 5 months

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And they were husbands

Their relationship always makes me feel lonely 🥲

#lego monkie kid #lmk fanart #lmk #lmk ocs #uraninite enzo #blacksmithoc #mirio aoba #immortal lovers #aoba is actually my gf's oc :]#i love them so much #crying screaming throwing up #digital art #digital drawing #sweet baby meow meows

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kairitai · 9 months

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❤ ENEMIES TO LOVERS W/ MIRIO TOGATA FT. SHORT READER ❤ Repost of the fic because my dumb ass DELETED IT :((

WARNINGS: swearing, slight suggestibe themes. bickering and general bullfuckery with my scrungly <3

You absolutely despised how positive this man was, why is he so loud all the time? why does he tell lame jokes? how is he always so smiley? isn’t it tiring?

You scoffed whenever he entered the room, you rolled your eyes when he addressed you and did all sorts of rude things just to get a rise out of him.

Of course he noticed all the stank faces you threw at him for just breathing in your general direction. And quite frankly he’s had enough.

That’s perfectly fine, two can play that game.

“Ey Mirio, you got the notes to the class? Your fucking lamp post of a body was blocking my view from the board.” “Bold of you to assume I was even taking notes, Lord Farquad.”

After that its CONSTANT BICKERINGGGG. The both of you keep trying to find some way or the other to get on the others nerves.

Very entertaining to see you two fight, “Better than Love Island” quotes Tamaki.

“You have the personality equivalent to a wet sock covered in glitter”

“Real.”

“Talking with you feels like putting on an itchy sweater that’s six sizes too small.” “Fells like I’m pouring straight bleach into my eyes when I look at you.”

“FUCK YOU, GO TO HELL” “Noted. Savin’ u a seat, you want the kiddie size or are you big enough to sit in the regular ones?”

Does the stupidest things to get your attention, takes out all your pen cartridges, blunts your sharpener, flicks erasers at you, messes with ur binder notes mixing subjects, sending u pictures of minion tic tacts saying “Look its you <3”, vandalizing your textbooks ect ect.

Unrelated but he’s got u saved as “Fucky Faced Chihuahua” cause he heard you got him saved as “Sentient Shitstain”

He’ll shove his hand to cover your entire face to silence you. “Ah pupupupuh shut.”

Favourite past time is commenting on your height and watching you get all huffy and red about it. Constantly using your head as an arm rest, putting your favourite mug on the top shelf and hiding the stool you use loves seeing you jump to get it and snatching stuff from your desk which you left unattended dangling it over your head. He is fully entertained when you bark at him.

He’s normally un-phased at your snarky comments and playfully goes along but one rare occasions he’ll let you have it.

“God help you if you interrupt me one more time for I am going to pour cement into your ears”

“YOU LYING, CHEATING, DUSTY LITTLE FUCK TRUMPET-”

“Your smooth brain cant even recall what a participant phrase is, let alone you being able to comprehend the concept itself.”

Zero chill during sparring session. none at all.

Oh you think you’re besting him bc you manages to land a singular punch on him? bet, he’ll body slam you further asserting how small you are compared to the absolute giant he is.

Somewhere along the lines the bickering and taunting turns into passive aggressive flirting and its just glorious.

“I am going to smother you with a pillow shut the fuck up” “BET, who’s dorm?”

“That is the ugliest fucking shirt i have ever seen you wear.” “take it off then if you have a problem with it??” “…” “...wAIT-”

#mirio togata #mirio #mirio togata x reader #mirio x reader #mirio togara x y/n #mirio x you #mirio togata x you #mirio x y/n #mha mirio togata #mha fanfiction #mirio togata headcanons #mirio headcanons #mirio togata fanfiction #mha x reader #bhna x reader

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thatanimewriter · 5 months

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RETROUVAILLES.

➳ synopsis: v. to meet again, especially after a long time apart

➳ character/s: hayama akira, tsukasa eishi, riku dola, morinozuka takashi, lie ren, winter schnee, qrow branwen, midoriya izuku, todoroki shouto, jirou kyoka, shinsou hitoshi, togata mirio, dedue molinaro, felix fraldarius, shamir nevrand, vi, ekko, dan heng, blade, gepard landau, fushiguro megumi, zen'in maki, nanami kento + any of your faves

➳ warnings: fantasy!au (character is a knight, you are the royal they serve), medieval shit, major character death, descriptions of blood, descriptions of injury, childhood friends to almost lovers, accidental murder lol, intentional murder, reader described as beautiful, hurt/no comfort, angst, gn!reader (as always)

➳ word count: 2k

➳ notes: the thing got graded finally, so you can now have it. sorry for any hurt feelings (not really, that was the whole point of the story-). character list is just some characters i DO write for that i think work for this story. also this won't be tagged properly, but it's fine

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

to them, the weight of their golden armour is equal to that of guilt and grief. the castle they swore to protect is a permanent reminder of their shortcomings, though they never expected to return so soon. their metal-clad figure decorates the deteriorating structure in flecks of fragmented sunshine along the sandstone hallways. the kaleidoscope of light is no longer disrupted by the servants’ shadows. instead, the faux sun lurks on the walls as they drag their feet along the floor. the scraping of metal along stone replaces the low murmurs of maids and the light footsteps of staff as they flitted around the castle. the echo is deafening, and they realise they despises silence. it isn’t true silence with the clanking of their armour, but it makes them painfully aware that they are a survivor. the rattling of metal causes them to be uncomfortably conscious of their isolated existence. glancing through ajar doors that line the walls, they longs for a semblance of home, yet they are met by blood-stained tile and mangled corpses littering the floor in unappealing heaps of sunken cheeks and open wounds.

anita yasmine rosie luka penny william-

they step around them, gaze flickering to each of the faces paralysed by a still heart and wishes to lay with them, to feel the sticky black blood seep through their clothes and be held by the icy arms of death. they steel themselves against the pungent scent of rotting flesh, waving off the flies lingering around their head but failing to break through the helmet that conceals their shame and anguish.

the squeal of rusty hinges makes them close his eyes as they shakily exhale. their eyes flutter open at the quiet groan of the floorboards, and their breath hitches in their throat. it is as if colour returns to their vision, and they are several years younger, free of the faint crow’s feet stemming from the corners of their eyes and the dull ache in their chest.

it’s… the same. but you're not here.

silk sheets lay neatly atop the mattress, and the pillows remain meticulously arranged. they think if they sleep under the covers, they might smell your floral perfume on the pillowcases. they don’t entertain that idea. the sunlight filters through the translucent curtains, highlighting the blanket of dust that settles on the furniture and floor. the room hasn’t changed much since childhood; though it was sporadic, they were permitted inside. nonetheless, it was timeless. throughout all the phases of your life, it still felt like you.

they eye the vanity, clear of clutter but filled with nostalgia. the hairbrush is likely unusable – at least not without lacing dust and bugs through one’s hair – but it looked the same as when they originally gifted it. strands of hair weave between the bristles, and they wonder if their own locks are hidden away in the forest of DNA.

the maids would have cleaned the hairbrush since I was a child.

they don’t touch anything; they knows what is tucked away in the drawers and boxes. there is one thing they allows themselves to taint with their touch. they pry a brick from the wall, reaching into the pocket of secrecy they’d made with you. a matted velvet box graces their armoured fingertips. they don’t feel the texture, but the box size is familiar. they carefully pluck it from the treasure trove of memories and broken promises, sliding the brick back into place. gently unclasping the box, they smile softly at the two rings that lay side by side.

“one day, i’ll marry you!” they proclaim as you sit on the floor of your balcony. you giggle at their proposal and inquire about the rings you would wear if you married. “rings?” “you have to give me a ring to tell everyone that we’re getting married.” their little shoulders slump, and a pout forms on their lips. they sheepishly scuff their foot along the ground and tries to ignore the tears in their eyes. “...i don’t have one.” you sigh but give them a hopeful look. “but eventually you will?” they quickly brighten and grin through their tears as they lift their head to look at you. “yes! it’s gonna be like no other ring in the whole kingdom!”

they pocket the box and glance at the balcony. they kneel and bow their head, resting their right hand on their heart. when they rise, they look at the room before gently closing the door behind them as if you has retired for the night, and they don’t want to wake you. a practised method that hasn’t entirely left their bones.

as they descend the stairs to the ballroom, they nearly smile at the memory of the ball before the tragedy that befell the castle. they don't let it break through the perfectly crafted mask of neutrality. not when the ballroom floor is occupied by more lifeless bodies and darkened blood smears. they look to their side, wishing they could relive the memory of the ball and hoping they can look into your eyes as they escort you down the stairs, hoping you can share one last dance.

but you're not here…

they raise their arms, supporting the memory of everything they long to return to, and waltz. there is no music, yet their timing is precise, and despite having no dance partner, their form persists. they ponder the events of the tragedy as they glide along the bloody floor and skirt around the dozens of corpses, each bearing a face they'd seen a million times and maybe even a little more.

they can almost feel the weight of the spear they carried that day as they dance. they could hear your deafening scream as you were pulled into the crossfire. the sound follows them into their unconscious, a horrifying alarm. they never forgot the ache in their heart as their spear pierced through you. a human shield is a cowardly move in their mind, but the culprit had succeeded if the goal was to leave them with insurmountable guilt.

they come to a halt, bowing to the ghost of you. recalling your morning together beneath the gazebo, they gravitate to the imaginary scent of tea and pastries. the winter sun doesn’t fully reach them through the armour, and they attempt to resist the welcoming rays of warmth that beckon them to stay longer. they sit on the concrete bench they had called dibs on when they were twelve, ignoring the dull pain in their chest. slowly, they remove their armour. the metal feels warm despite the thin layer of ice along the lake the gazebo resided by.

the metal plates rest neatly on the bench, and they shiver at the fresh, cool air that tickles their skin. they sigh and roll their shoulders free of lingering tension, allowing themselves a moment of tranquility. their eyes – drops of sunshine that had fallen from the heavens according to you – scanned the garden that built their childhood and adolescence. the twitch of their fingers goes unnoticed as they reminisce about their training to become a knight. the tightness in their throat is unacknowledged when they see the statue of you standing tall, proud and beautiful atop a marble pedestal. they wonder if the sculptor had taken a cast of you rather than building beauty with a reference. they clench their fist, imagining your fingers laced between theirs. they've memorised the sensation, embedding it into their brain each time your hands embraced over the years. flicking the box open, they let the rings fall into the palm of their hand.

“like no other in the kingdom”. heh… what an understatement.

they chuckle at their craftsmanship. it is what is expected when an eight-year-old finds wire to make a ring. they observe the jagged circle – if you could even call it that – and the haphazardly hidden wire ends that made them feel like an ant had bitten them. it was irritating beneath their little armoured hand, often coated in a thin layer of sweat, but now they crave the sharp sting that fades to a dull ache. perhaps the discomfort has travelled from their calloused and scarred skin to their weary bones and heavy heart.

they mindlessly hum a tune from their childhood as they unwind the wires, straightening them as best they can. their nimble fingers falter as their vision blurs, but they intertwine the wire into a band of love as the soft melody cracks and fades away. in their tunic, they shed responsibility and don youth while they recraft the rings as if they could rewrite history. the art of creating jewellery didn’t embed itself in their flesh and bones like combat did, despite their parents teaching them before they left the village.

a cold wind kisses their skin, and they wet their lips, gazing at their workshopped rings with a smile you claimed could warm even the most hostile souls. they rise with a newfound energy, standing before the ethereal marble effigy. their breath crystallises as they stare into the stony eyes of the statue, slipping a halo onto their ring finger. they don’t dare to tear their gaze away and finds their vision joining the misty gardens again. a short apology escapes them as they climb onto the plinth, slide the accompanying token onto your marble finger, and lay a chaste kiss on your icy forehead. they dismount the pedestal at the sound of shouting and is struck with a familiar paralysing experience. they can hear their pulse in their eardrums over the voices, and their limbs itch with the desire to escape.

no. i stay.

the faces that emerge from the tall grass aren’t familiar, but the old, blood-stained uniform brings ease. they don’t hear what the intruders declare over their heartbeat, but they focus on the sword shared between the looters. a sudden movement breaks their concentration, followed by a new ache in their abdomen, and they are acutely aware of the sword skewering their organs and poking through their tunic. the sturdy marble pedestal makes an ugly screech against the metal before meeting their back. they hiss when it’s pulled from its temporary sheath, dripping with red and shreds of tissue. the blood that coats the blade slides down the statue’s base, gathering in their hair and absorbing into their shirt. as they slump against the surface, they let their eyes flutter shut, and they faintly hear the footsteps of the intruders grow distant.

they frown as they lay on the lawn, ripping dry skin from their lips with their teeth. “can i ask you a question?” “you just did,” you respond with an ounce of playfulness. “what if i fail?” you turn to face them with narrow eyes as if you dared them to elaborate. “what if i can’t protect you?” you stare for a moment as you debate your answer. they gaze into your eyes and look for a hint of uncertainty but is met with their insecurities as they reflect their image. you flash a gentle smile and pick a blade of grass from their messy mop of hair. “i’ll see you soon, won’t i?”

a final smile tugs at their lips, and they exhale, weakly lifting their hand to look at the ring that failed to shine in the sliver of sunset light. the warmth disappears beneath the horizon, permitting the stars to adorn the navy skies, and their hand falls to the ground.

see you soon. i missed you. in our next life, maybe…

#shokugeki no soma x reader #food wars x reader #no game no life zero x reader #ouran high school host club x reader #ohshc x reader #rwby x reader #my hero academia x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #fire emblem three houses x reader #fe3h x reader #arcane x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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