#SHOUTO BEST BOY

[misfit-megumi]

Deceiving the Duke | 8 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

length: 2.9k of 30k words | 8th of 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

The Utsushimis were quiet the entire carriage ride home.

It wasn’t until you were through the doorway of their townhome that Mrs. Utsushimi seemed to snap, grabbing your hair and marching you up the stairs towards your attic bedroom.

“What were you thinking, you wretched girl!” she cried, her voice shrill in your ear.

You couldn’t bring yourself to fight her off, knowing as she did that you had just ruined the family once and for all.

“I permitted this acquaintance with Lord Todoroki long enough, thinking you might turn his attentions to Caroline!” she shouted. “And this is what you’ve been doing instead? This is your contribution to preventing scandal?”

“Mama–” Caroline’s voice interrupted. You could just barely hear the worried pad of her slippers over Mrs. Utsushimi’s angry stomps.

“To your room, Caroline, I will speak with you later!” Mrs. Utsushimi said as the pair of you turned the corner to your tiny room.

She shoved you forward, and you stumbled, catching yourself over the bed frame.

“Mrs. Utsushimi, I’ll think of some way to fix it–” you said, but Mrs. Utsushimi shouted over you.

“Pack your things, you little harlot! You have until morning to disappear. You will not be receiving any of your wages, and if you dare seek employment with Camie, so help me I will end you myself!” she bellowed.

She grabbed the door handle and slammed it closed with a strength you’d never known she possessed–rattling the wall and sending a puff of dust into the air from the rafters. You heard her stomp back down the stairs, and heard another door slam on the floor below. And then it was quiet—deafeningly quiet.

A sudden sob welled up in your throat, surprising you with its force. You sank onto your bed helplessly, breath coming in short little hiccups.

What had you done?

How could you have forgotten yourself so foolishly? How could you have lost sight of your objective, this close to the finish line?

It wasn’t enough that you’d had a duty to the family, either. And a duty to your parents, to send back money. But you’d also had a duty to Shouto–Lord Shouto, that was–god, how could you have ever addressed him as Shouto?–to uphold your respective positions in society.

And yet you’d let him go right to your head, like the bubbly fizz of champagne. He was so kind and good and utterly beautiful, inside and out. You’d been overwhelmed by him–but that was no excuse.

He was too honorable. And he would suffer for it. You’d trapped him in matrimony to a woman who was already married.

And he had to be made aware, so he could call off the wedding.

You could disappear–let him find out weeks from now, when the news of the real Camie’s elopement was sure to break, save yourself the face in the process. It might be the only way that Caroline could still have her wedding to Mr. Awase, if he wasn’t too scandalized by the idea of a runaway sister.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to let it happen that way.

You had betrayed Lord Shouto–and you needed to be the one to close this ridiculous sham out.

You would tell him.

You spent the next few minutes packing your things into your small valise, the one you’d come to the Utsushimi’s doorstep with all those years ago as a wide-eyed teenager. You shed Camie’s fine gown and Caroline’s pretty paste jewels, her silk flower she’d lent you. You folded them all and put them on the bedside and changed into the dress of your station, feeling the loss a little too keenly.

It was disappointing, how much you’d come to like living as a gentlewoman, when you’d known all along you could never have that.

You took Lord Shouto’s calling cards out from under your mattress, where you’d squirreled them away like the lovelorn little rat you were–and noted his address. It was still an early hour, far too early to see him–but this was urgent, and it would take you some hours to cross the city on foot, to the fashionable part where the Todoroki family kept a series of townhomes.

You crept down the stairs quietly, and let yourself out into the night, and began the long trek to Lord Shouto’s.

The early-morning air was cool and damp, and it helped you clear your head. As you walked, you rehearsed all of the things you wanted to say to him, determinedly pushing down the sick feeling that rose like bile in your throat.

The sun was just barely rising, a deep red tinge at the edge of the sky, when you found the placard indicating Lord Shouto’s address.

There was a light at one of the windows on the second floor, the flickering glow of a candle. You wondered if it was Lord Shouto’s room–if he would be awake at this hour, still, unable to stomach the thought of the marriage trap you’d sprung on him.

Well, you would soon put him out of his misery.

With your heart hammering in your mouth, you knocked on the door.

For a long while there was silence, and then a manservant opened the door, looking down at you with a dour expression.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I’m here to see Lord Shouto,” you said.

The manservant looked over your shoulder and squinted, as if a proper chaperone might manifest behind you–but then his eyes seemed to catch on your dress. Not a proper gentlewoman–just a woman.

“What business have you with His Grace at this early hour?” he asked suspiciously.

You opened your mouth, wondering how exactly you might explain it, when a familiar head of red and white hair poked over the man’s shoulder.

“Lord Shouto!” you said, equal parts relieved and horrified to see him.

He looked rumpled, but still wore those dark shirtsleeves and waistcoat, as if he had not yet gone to bed. Those mismatched eyes found yours, and a curious expression came over his handsome face.

“Tell me you did not walk here on your own?” he said, something strangely hard in his voice.

You wondered how angry he must be with you, for it to show in his voice.

“I did. But please, Your Grace. I have some things you need to hear, it should only be a moment,” you said.

Lord Shouto gestured the manservant aside, and offered you his hand, helping you up the last step though you did not need it. You accepted, wondering if this was to be the last time you would get to touch him.

“My study should be best,” he said, and led you down a long, winding hall, to a room at the back of the house where a candle was still glowing on a desk. It was large, and would have been intimidating were it not filled with squashy, comfortable looking furniture and stuffed with all manner of books. There were tens of shelves of them, and even more were piled up around the room in teetering towers.

Lord Shouto’s desk was absolutely carpeted in papers, and your hands itched to tidy them.

Once you were inside, Lord Shouto closed the door behind you. You took a deep, steadying breath–and then–

“You should not have come alone. The streets are dangerous at night,” he said.

You turned, to look into his face. “My lord, I treasure your concern. However, you’ll want to hear–”

“The Utsushimis let you come alone?” he repeated, looking as though he couldn’t stomach the thought. His care warmed something inside you, but you knew you could not let him persist in his delusion that you were a gentlewoman. There was nothing wrong with a servant walking the streets alone.

You gathered yourself up.

“I am not Camie Utsushimi,” you said.

Lord Shouto’s eyes darted up to yours, and he paused. His brow raised slowly, but his expression did not change otherwise. The flickering light of the candle cast fluttering shadows over his face, dancing in the hollows of his cheeks, smudging under the dark line of his thick lashes.

He did not offer a reply, and you stood in an awkward silence, until you realized he meant for you to explain further.

“I–my lord, I never meant…I did not think…” you fumbled, until your eyes flashed up to his face again, handsome and solemn. And you realized he deserved the truth, not your excuses.

“No, regardless of what I meant or why I did it,” you tried again. “I have deceived you. I am not Camie Utsushimi. I am not even a gentlewoman. I am called Y/N, and I was a servant in the Utsushimis’ home until this morning.”

Lord Shouto watched you still, saying nothing, and so you continued.

“Camie Utsushimi eloped days before the opening of the season, to Lord Inasa Yoarashi. They are honeymooning now, but she will return to Musutafu soon enough, and our plot will be revealed. I wanted…” you cast your eyes down, unable to look at his face. “I wanted you to find out from me. I wanted to give you the opportunity to announce you are calling off the marriage, before you are caught up in the scandal too.”

You drew in a shivering breath. “I am sorry.”

For a long moment, Lord Shouto said nothing. You could not imagine what he was thinking, how he might even begin to respond to something like this.

After several minutes of silence, he finally moved. There was the soft tread of his boots across the floor. You stayed frozen, unable to anticipate what he was doing. His index finger curled gently under your chin, tipping your face up to his.

“You think I did not know,” he said.

Your mouth opened in shock.

He–what? He knew?

“You–? How could you know?” you asked, when you were finally able to gather the trappings of language back to you. “My lord, what do you mean–?”

“The way you behaved, from our first meeting,” Lord Shouto said in his deep tone. “I suspected you were either a very uneducated debutante–quite at odds with Miss Caroline–or a pretender. And then, when I called on you–you answered the door as a servant would. The Utsushimis’ sitting room was barren of any portrait of you, but had plenty of Caroline and another girl who looks just like her–who I am assuming must be the real Camie.”

Fuck! So he had seen something then!

His fingers burned on your skin, and you were all too aware of his touch when you swallowed nervously. Horror and embarrassment burned hot across your skin, igniting your cheeks.

“My lord, I can only apologize and promise that you will never have to see me again,” you said, fighting down the sudden hot sting of tears behind your eyelids. “You were kinder to me than I deserved, and I–-if I had known how good you were, I should have never done it.”

“And if I want to see you again?” Lord Shouto asked carefully.

You glanced up at him, cringing when a tear escaped you in your surprise. “Lord Shouto, please. Do not continue to be kinder to me than I deserve. I will not ever be able to work again in Musutafu, besides.”

Lord Shouto’s thumb came up, and brushed your tear away. You froze, a cocktail of confused emotion burbling up inside you.

“Tell me why you did it,” Lord Shouto said softly. You stared up into those mismatched eyes, watched his long, shadowy lashes fall over his perfect cheekbones when he blinked.

You did not want to say it. But…

“For money, my lord,” you said, hating the way honesty tasted in your mouth. “I send a stipend back to my family. The Utsushimis promised steady wages and a bonus, and future employment with Camie and Lord Inasa when we were discovered. I would have money for my family, and get to see my friend again. And I–”

You took a shuddering breath in, embarrassed with just how open your emotions must be to Lord Shouto. “I did not think I would befriend anyone. I did not know there was anyone like you, or Miss Uraraka, or Lady Asui. I thought all the gentry ridiculous and overweening. Stupidly, I did not understand that it would be so easy to become close–that I would directly affect anyone…”

You had to stop, then, clamping down on a fresh wave of tears. You would not cry in front of Lord Shouto–not when you were at fault here.

Lord Shouto watched you silently, for a long time, your face still held in his grip. You just watched him helplessly, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Eventually, he spoke, his thumb sliding absently across your cheek, again. “Will you come with me?” he asked.

Your brows knit. “Come with you–? To…where, my lord?”

“To the palace,” he said. “To meet Her Highness, Princess Momo.”

All the blood in your veins iced over, and you could feel your body drawn into itself defensively, your hands curling into fists at your side.

There could be nothing good for a deceitful maid at the palace. Nothing good in meeting Princess Momo, especially if he planned to tell her what you’d done.

But…perhaps that was exactly it.

Perhaps Lord Shouto meant to let her pass judgment on your crimes against him. To deliver her royal justice upon you. He was rumored to be her impending fiancee–and there had to be a price to pay, for attempting to entrap the future prince of the empire in a marriage scheme that might have disrupted their union.

Fear and apprehension prickled up your spine. Your gut churned in great heaving turns, and you felt like you might be sick.

But you had come to set things right, hadn’t you? You had come to do the right thing by Lord Shouto, when you could have just as easily fled the city.

You could…No, you would see this through.

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I will.”

Lord Shouto’s hand finally dropped from your chin, and he bade you wait a moment. He stepped over to his desk and scribbled something down on a bit of parchment, and then sealed it and stepped out into the hall. You heard him conduct a brief conversation with a manservant, and then he ducked back in to tell you he wouldn’t be a moment.

You nodded, afraid of what you’d sound like if you spoke. When the door closed behind him, you let the shivers come over you, gripping Lord Shouto’s desk against a sudden bout of lightheadedness.

You briefly considered running, turning and contemplating your valise where you’d deposited it next to the door.

But suddenly all the fight had left you.

If this is truly what Lord Shouto wanted, then you owed him this much, didn’t you?

When he returned, he’d changed into something decidedly less rumpled and considerably more appropriate for an audience with royalty. You felt conspicuous in your graying maid’s garb, but there was nothing to be done for it.

Lord Shouto led you outside, where a carriage had already been arranged, and he surprised you by handing you up into the carriage as though you were any sort of a proper lady. Your face went hot, despite the cool prickle of apprehension that had settled into your bones.

He settled in across from you, those mismatched eyes blisteringly hot on your skin.

And then, with a final word from him, the carriage rattled off towards the palace, the wheels clattering over the cobblestones in the early morning quiet.

[punkeropercyjackson]

@theautisticcentre said Gwen x Hobie is just Momo x Shouto in a different font and i haven't stopped thinking about it since

/pos

[hella1975]

you ever have a fic get you in such a chokehold you start pacing your room and talking to yourself

[garbagefireboy]

i can’t believe i couldn’t find this. but now it exists

[kitsunefyuu]

Hello! Do you think Shouto can cook?

Hello and welcome to my blog!

Oh boy. He is the rich boy that has all his food catered too. So his skills are very limited but yes! You seen him he was bad at cutting food he definitely not the best.

But in Team Up Mission side manga he accidentally ends up learning under a Soba expert. With Kaminari and I think Iida so no one knew how to cook Soba. Then they learn to make a pretty good Soba! It was a misunderstanding but I like to imagine he kept that knowledge and now knows how to make hand made Soba.

It a surprise to many but it makes him feel more independent that he learned something. And likely will go from there he will learn more about cooking. He isn’t the fanciest or anything at it but he is quite passionate when tries.

He isn’t making a five star meal or anything but he can make something edible. And warms your tummy and I think that if can make you smile a little at the effort that’s good enough.

[l3opardsp0ts]

It’s Heist Time Folks!

The Leverage AU is Live!!!!

[haveafuckingfanfic]

He’s trying his best and we love that for him🥰🥰🥰

girls day out

[harapeveco]

Find it really curious that, despite Bakugo being his fave mha character, Eve decided on a Todoroki type character….that or Mariyasu is the Todoroki fan which thank god if that’s the case best boy in mha

[oncforallxbroccoli]

An ask from the multi's ask box || @heterochromatica asked:

"Midoriya, have you noticed that Shinsou-kun and Aizawa-sensei are... really alike?" his voice drops slightly at the last two words. He's suspicious. (I'm not as sorry as I should be XD)

Hearing the question from Todoroki-kun, Izuku's eyes widened as he thinks about Aizawa-sensei's and Shinsou-kun's resemblances.

If someone were to get a glimpse of the inside of the boy's mind, they'd be met with nothing but a mental explosion of the revelation that went through his mind. As he than started to mumble to himself about the multitude of similarities between their sensei and Shinsou-kun.

[punkeropercyjackson]

"We need more m/f ships that aren't heternormative or enforce gender stereotypes!!!"You guys couldn't even handle Todomomo

[seiwas]

omg im scared my tags are gonna get cut out

were he not born to be a hero he must surely be born for this. <- I LOOOOVE THISS my GODD are u KIDDDDINGME i looooove that so much monty :(( how it ties back in to the start!!

and the way!! he uses what he learned on izuku. and izuku really DID burst into a million tears 🥺 poor guy probs needs it THE MOST WAAAH i loooove this lil interaction i am MUSH

and when he realises its different from touching you??? OHHHH. BOYYYYYY.

i love this monty thank u for writing this

STEADY BEGINNINGS ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, developing relationship (eventual friends to lovers), touch starved shouto, physical affection (hand holding + long hugs), good god the yearning, obliviousness, jealousy, fluff + angst, pro hero shouto, reader works at hero agency

wc: 3.8K

series masterlist: 2/5

Shouto was born to be a hero.

It is a sentiment shared by reporters and fans alike. Todoroki Shouto, the pride of Endeavor, the saving grace of his family name. True, his development had been entirely up to chance—no matter the intent or cruel desperation behind his father’s actions, he had to rely on the probability that the next offspring would win the genetic lottery—but low and behold, he did, and to many people that alone was a sign of destiny at work.

Ultimately, he chose to continue the path of being a hero himself, but no higher being put him there. His father did. At the time of his birth Shouto had not been a son, not even a baby. He was a project. A small, shapeless, squirmy thing. Malleable, like any young mind. It’s a miracle he retained any will and individuality.

Sometimes when alone with his thoughts, Shouto would hypothesise on the whys and the hows. The conclusion he always comes to is this: any sort of reality in which Shouto succumbs to his father’s ideals and manipulation would have to be a world in which his mother does not exist.

While his existence was planned, and wanted, he was to be a hero and as such, wasn’t cut from love—that came after. He loved his mother. So much so that when she hurt, he hurt. When she cried, he cried. She taught him what it meant to be gentle, to have hope, to aspire to be his own person. Years spent amongst the country's finest heroes and Shouto still regarded his mother as the bravest woman he knew, strong because she refused to be hardened by her circumstances; soft so that she can’t be broken again.

You are like his mother in that regard. Those same echoes of reassurance that softness isn’t weakness, and it isn’t earned. You’ve been touching him more as of late, as if determined to prove it. Static between brushed fingertips, words expressed by simply pressing your knees together, the weight of your hand on his bicep to garner his attention. The build up is subtle and cumulative and yet each instance strikes him with the magnitude of a thermodynamic explosion.

Nobody bats an eyelid to this shift in physicality, which makes it all the more difficult to determine whether he is reading into things or not. It could be that he’s noticing those small instances only because it’s you, and you are all he can think about lately.

You’ve given him permission to reciprocate. He merely has to ask for more if he wants it. What Shouto hadn’t accounted for is the unbearability of being vulnerable enough to ask. An innocent “can you hug me?” becomes so much more daunting to voice with all that longing crowded up behind it. He can’t help worrying you’ll see right through to the bottom of his desires.

A hand comes into view. Bakugo’s ash-smudged finger and thumb pinch and snap together in front of his face. “Come back to Earth, dumbass. Your thousand yard stare is scarin’ my new assistant”.

Shouto blinks out of his stupor and the blurred vignette surrounding his vision recedes. He glances at the skittish man sitting outside Bakugo’s office currently sending worried glances over his shoulder. “I think he’s more scared that you’re back,” Shouto intones dryly. “Isn’t he the fourth one this year?”

“Not my fault they’re all wimps,” Bakugo huffs. A slap reverberates around the office as he throws down a manila folder onto his desk and drops heavily into his chair. He regards Shouto with suspicion overtop his computer monitor. “Whatever you were just thinkin’ about—stop”.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking about”.

“I know you always manage to make Olympic level leaps in logic,” Bakugo rolls his eyes and tears open the folder. He slides out what Shouto assumes is a debrief and flips it between his fingers. Shouto keeps quiet. He reclines into the couch cushions and returns to reading the incident report on his lap, counting down from ten in the privacy of his mind. Anytime now.

Three, two, one.

“So what is it?” Bakugo asks, trying too hard to sound flippant but landing squarely on irritation. “Spit it out before you give yourself an aneurysm”.

Shouto opens his mouth and closes it again. A wave of hot embarrassment washes over him. He knows Bakugo will do him the kindness of being blunt and honest but it doesn’t make it any less humiliating to admit.

In their younger years Shouto saw something of a kindred spirit in Bakugo. He too did not like touch and aggressively voiced his distaste for it whenever he got the chance—which was often, because divine intervention sought fit to give him the most tactile, handsy friend group possible.

As they got older though, Shouto began to realise that the protests and threats were hollow. Despite being vehemently against affection, Bakugo would allow it anyway, and sometimes even seek it out. The aggression was bravado. Bakugo liked having his friends draped around his shoulders. He liked when Mina kissed his cheek, or Kaminari played with his hair, or Kirishima gathered him into a too-tight hug, or Sero tangled their ankles together on the couch.

Only, for him to comfortably accept it, Bakugo needed to act as though he were doing them a favour by allowing them into his space. And Bakugo’s friends played along without complaint.

From what he’s observed you are also an affectionate person. You are liberal with your warmth and adapt seamlessly to the boundaries of those around you. But you were also visibly uncomfortable whenever people took that affinity for intimacy as an open invitation, and recoiled if they encroached on your own.

Shouto has imagined reaching out only for your body to flinch away from him more times than he can count. It’s a battle staged in his head, ingrown fears. The possibility alone was enough to keep him from reciprocating, set in a state of fawn-like inertia.

“There’s somebody I want to get closer to. A friend,” he begins. Bakugo makes an inquisitive noise, props his cheek against his fist and narrows his eyes as he listens. Shouto retells the story in part, deciding to omit your name, and by the tail-end of it Bakugo’s forehead is deeply creased in dissatisfaction.

“You make all your own problems, Halfie. Y’know that?” he mutters, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and sinking back into his chair. “Fine, you don’t want to make this person uncomfortable, or whatever. If you need a hug so damn badly, why not ask Deku? Not like he’d say no”.

Knowing Bakugo would make his dilemma sound ridiculous is one thing, actually hearing it is another. “How do you know it isn’t about Midoriya,” Shouto returns petulantly.

“It ain’t Izuku or anyone else from your nerd squad,” Bakugo says, dropping his hand to drum on the desk. “I would’ve heard about it”.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t touch people. And that’s fuckin’ fine, yeah? But if you had, I know for a fact any one of them would’ve burst into tears and told everyone in a five mile radius”.

“Oh,” it leaves him a little off-kilter to hear. Shouto leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, setting the report on the dark wood coffee table. The corner of the page is curled, and the spine is creased, and the ink annotation has smudged under his thumb. He details these things as he deliberates, the excuses cloying in his throat and thick like he might cry too.

Bakugo was right—if he craved close contact so badly, why couldn’t he go to Midoriya? He knows he would likely be met with enthusiasm.

“You don't have to tell me who. I don’t care. But you’re overthinking it,” Bakugo grunts at his lack of response, in a way that very much suggests that he cares. “Go ask. If they say ‘no’ it’s tough shit, but the world isn’t gonna end. From what you’ve told me they wouldn’t say ‘no’ anyway. Dumbass”.

Shouto nods and gives up the pretense of reading the paperwork. He feels coltish as he stands and brushes down his front, straightening the creases.

“You’re right”.

“I know”.

“Thank you, Bakugo,” he says. A small smile unfurls across his anxiety-bitten mouth. “You’re a good friend”.

“Shut up,” Bakugo grumbles. It’s a testament to his concern that he hadn’t cursed Shouto there and then. “Now get out of my office. What are you doing here in the first place? You got your own!”

“Yours gets all the sunlight. And it’s always quiet because nobody comes in here,” Shouto ignores the baleful slit of an eye Bakugo turns on him. “I’m going to take my lunch now”.

“Do what you want,” Bakugo dismisses haughtily, and Shouto smiles while thinking, not for the first time, that he’s very lucky to have friends like these.

The fidgety assistant bows as he exits and turns into the sun-drenched hallway. Warmth drapes around Shouto’s shoulders, lingering at his nape while he descends the dark stairwell where the light doesn’t reach. His boots thud against the linoleum, and he counts each footfall to keep his face neutral as his legs carry him toward your department.

Somewhere between one and one hundred and thirteen, a fraction of Shouto’s courage starts to dwindle. He grits his teeth. A hundred steps can’t be enough to dissuade him after decades of denying himself any kind of indulgence.

The further he goes into the support wing the more elaborate the layout becomes. You’re in research and development, assigned a workshop close to the quirk analysts. Heads turn as Shouto rolls through. Heroes didn’t often make personal visits to this area. If he thinks hard enough he could count a grand number of two past visits and neither of them were for you.

His stride falters when he catches sight of your nameplate. It is fixed to the wall outside your door, polished and gleaming proudly. Shouto traces the characters of your name engraved into steel before raising his hand to knock.

Your voice rings out from inside, “Come in!”

A pitched beeping sound comes from overhead. The workshop doors begin to open in a theatrical fashion, receding like curtains to reveal your space. The floor is mapped out with tape. Clear boundaries drawn between the work benches, the fume cupboards, the vault and your personal office, in an attempt at organised chaos. He might have been more interested in poking around for the first time if he had not felt on the edge of intrusion.

You’re tucked behind your curved desk surrounded by numerous monitors that dwarf your frame. Shouto furtively takes in your cute, rumpled appearance. The upper half of your coveralls have been undone to reveal an undervest, sleeves tied tight around and accentuating your waist.

“Take a seat, I’ll be with you in…” the dull tapping of practiced keystrokes comes to a stop as you notice him in the doorway. The professional veneer disappears. “Shouto?” you say, mostly to yourself. Your gaze slides beyond his shoulder, looking for whoever might be accompanying him. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a worried twist in your mouth that he wants to smudge away. A look in your eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugged at his being. Shouto rolls his shoulders, shaking off the tension, and moving deeper into your office. The doors close automatically behind him. “I’m okay,” he assures, taking the seat across from you.

Your expression gentles, and he likes how your gaze follows him. “I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me,” he continues. “But if you’re working I can head back”.

“Lunch?” you repeated. Your eyes darted to the corner of the monitor closest to you and promptly widened. “Oh, shit. When did that happen?”

An upswing of fondness catches him like a blow to the chest. His mouth quirks into a smirk. “How long have you been here?”

“Too long. I got lumped with a new project a few days ago and it’s almost done,” the monitors shut off one by one as you sheepishly press each button. Then you gave him a soft, apologetic look, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. Must’ve missed me if you came all the way down here”.

Dread shriked through him. The low whirring from the equipment scattered around your workspace is suddenly inordinately loud. Was he that obvious?

You, however, fail to notice Shouto’s anxiety and grab him around the wrist as you pivot the desk. “C’mon. Let’s go before the good stuff is gone,” you tell him.

Shouto had absolutely no clue what the ‘good stuff’ entailed—maybe he should’ve bothered to ask. Atleast it would take his mind off your hand. It’s wrapped around his sleeve, right where the fabric ends, loose enough for him to unshackle from if he wants. When he doesn’t protest the contact you stroke your thumb in an arc over the heel of his hand and squeeze.

Shouto falls into step, too caught up to realise you’ve taken him to the cafeteria. He expects you’ll drop his wrist in the presence of your colleagues, yet you adjust your grip and glance back at him with an encouraging tilt of your head.

“I’m starving. I think I’ll get a rice bowl. Smells pretty good today, don’t you think?”

Shouto hummed his agreement. He felt out of his depth, and he didn’t trust his voice. The spark of giddiness was doing embarrassing things to his throat. The line is mercifully short and before long he has a warm bowl of food held against his front.

“Did you want to sit in here? I can take us to one of the senior staff lounges instead if you want,” you cast a nervous look across the sparse crowd. “I mean, support engineers aren’t really gossiping types but…”

A petty part of him hoped the whispers would escalate. To have your name linked with his, to be known as a person that you cared about—he found that deeply satisfying, for reasons he couldn’t yet put his finger on.

Then again, being alone with you far eclipsed the appeal of flaunting your friendship. “The senior staff lounge sounds best,” he answers after a minute of feigned consideration. You nod, regretfully having dropped his hand, and motion for him to follow once more.

The lounge is a modest room with a kitchenette, a breakfast nook and a few bean bag chairs. It smells faintly like peeled oranges. There are post it notes and blueprints haphazardly stuck to the pinboard, covering an out of date calendar filled out in illegible scrawl. This is no shop awning. There is no rainfall to lend to the ambiance. But you are together in an enclosed space, and that is enough to make his heart beat in anticipation.

You scoot into the breakfast nook. He sits on the same side of the table and tries to subtly spread his knees enough to nudge your thigh. You side-glance in surprise but choose not to mention it. Instead you smile through your first mouthful and ask, “How've things been since I last saw you?”

Achy, like he’s used an atrophied muscle. Lonely, and frustrating beyond words. But he doesn’t say any of that. He digs crescents into his thigh through his pant leg and says, “Boring”.

“Figured that might be the case. I saw the livestream of you fighting Haywire,” you bump your shoulder against his. “The Commission probably dumped a whole load of paperwork on you, huh?”

Shouto wrinkles his nose. He hoped you hadn’t caught that fight. The pursuit of Haywire—an eco terrorist with an electrical quirk—managed to cause an unprecedented amount of damage to the city infrastructure.

“You handled it as best you could. The power grid can be fixed. What’s important is people are alive because of you,” a warm weight covers the fingers restlessly whittling at his pant leg. You pet his hand, “I’m glad you weren’t hurt”.

Guided solely by his impulses, the instant you start to draw back he envelops the top of your hand and sandwiches it between his own. He goes hot and cold all over in quick succession. Boundaries, he reminds himself. But you’re not pulling away. You’re studying him with a knowing gleam in your eye.

Shouto clears his throat. Heat pricks across his skin, concentrated in his cheekbones. “Sorry,” he says. You can ask, a memory echoes. “Is this okay?”

“You don’t have to apologise. I told you it’s fine,” you reply firmly. “I’m happy to remind you if you need to hear it”.

“No, I…” his brow furrows. “I’ve been thinking”.

“That’s not good”.

Shouto snorts and shakes his head, his amusement petering out into a shallow breath. “I want to ask. I’ve wanted to ask like you said I could,” he explains vaguely. “I’m not very good at it, I think”.

You make a soft, understanding sound that immediately sets him at ease. “I guess, after denying yourself something for so long it can be scary to let yourself have it again,” you murmur, a faraway look in your eyes. After a pensive moment the sheen fades and your laughter lines deepen, “I’ll do what I did before, then. If you look like you need a hug I’ll ask you instead”.

“In what way do I ‘look like’ I need a hug?”

“You get this—I don’t know how to explain it,” you gesture vaguely at him. “This blankness about you, but not your normal resting face, I mean you don’t seem all there. I don’t like it. I like it best when you’re happy”.

“Ah,” comes his eloquent response. Shouto drops his gaze to where your hands knot together. Every quark in his body is urging him to get closer, and remain close. “Bakugo thinks I should try to hug Midoriya, too,” he adds, oddly flustered.

“Huh. You talked to Bakugo about—? That’s a surprise. A nice surprise, I mean! Well, Midoriya does give great hugs. It would be good for you to…”

Shouto’s thoughts grow louder and he frowns down at his rice. You’re saying something about physical touch and wellness and friends. Dopamine and serotonin. It barely registers. Two truths are pinging around his skull.

You have hugged Midoriya. Of course you have. You’re friends.

You think he’s great at it.

Why is that so unsettling? Teenagers think like this. Single minded and overly emotional.

He feels the shifting of your knuckles under his palm. “Hey. You’ll need one of these back if you’re going to eat,” you say.

“Right,” he lifts his left hand and picks up his chopsticks to take a pinch of rice from his bowl. He chews until the clamouring in his mind has settled, and you patiently accept his stoic silence without explanation. Shouto hasn’t been this awkward since highschool, and even then he was too wrapped up in his familial problems to be aware of it.

“What’s the project you’ve been working on?” he eventually asks.

You take the change of topic in your stride, leaning closer and lowering your voice to an excited whisper, “I’m not supposed to tell you but—it’s for Deku’s new costume”.

“Midoriya is getting a new costume?” Shouto replies. You playfully shush him and he pouts a little.

“Don’t sulk. He doesn’t know yet either,” you poke a chopstick at the corner of his jutted mouth. “It’s my job to prepare a design portfolio and talk through everything next week. You’ll get a new one too, when you break the top five”.

“If,” he amends.

“You don’t think you’ll move up?”

“Reaching the top was never really a priority for me,” Shouto’s attention splinters, half of his focus on the conversation and the other on the sensation of your skin. He considers overturning his hand to entwine your fingers. “I just want to be the best hero I can be”.

You hum, and as if plucking the desire right from his mind, absentmindedly slip into the gaps between his fingers. Shouto steadies his breathing and takes another mouthful.

The rest of the hour passes, syrupy and slow like molasses. By the final minute Shouto’s palm is sticky and reluctant to part from yours. You usher him out from the breakfast nook first, stacking the empty bowls before directing him back toward the emptied cafeteria.

You slide the bowls along the counter for the kitchen staff to take. Then you wipe your hands down your front as you pivot to face him, thrusting out both arms as he stands frozen.

“Can I hug you?”

Shouto touches his face and you laugh.

“This is because I want one,” you clarify with a warm grin, beckoning him closer.

Shouto inhales steps into the embrace, his arms instinctively wrapping around your back. There are less layers this time—the heat of your body is overwhelming, alongside the gentle rise of goosebumps across your bare shoulders. Your breath fell gently on his collarbone, his head lowering to curl into you. He thinks, were he not born to be a hero, he must surely be born for this.

“Thank you,” you mumble, squeezing his waste a final time as you retreat. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

Shouto nods. Your presence moves away like the sun being blocked out and he watches you go, departing words caught in his teeth, an incessant buzz in his fingertips. The walk back to his office is a gauzy yellow haze. Every physiological response in his body told him that he was in a free fall, despite his feet being firmly on the ground.

“Shouto!”

Shouto halts mid-step at the familiar voice. He turns to look at Izuku, at the tentative beginnings of his smile. “Izuku,” he says.

“We missed you at lunch—are you feeling alright?” Izuku asks, slightly bemused. “You look kinda… floaty,” his eyes are dark, softened in the afternoon light as they sweep over Shouto’s figure and his face.

"Izuku," Shouto said before he could convince himself otherwise, “Do you want a hug?”

The innocent question appeared to crash into Izuku with the levity of a bullet train in motion. Tears sprang to his eyes, brighter now. Shouto tenses as he is swept into a solid hug. Izuku smells like fresh air, sweat and sweet-salty broth. He holds Shouto as though trying to keep his seams from bursting; thick arms are secure around his shoulders, and a rough palm rubs broad strokes down his back, smoothing the tension until Shouto is relaxed.

You were right. Izuku does give great hugs. Shouto came away doughy, and fuller, and with the stark realisation that while touching Izuku soothed the ache, it still felt completely different to touching you.

Later, as he leaned his head against the desk surface, he sluggishly contemplated the implications of that.

[crushmeeren]

♡ Todoroki/Fem Reader

♡ Master List Link

⇢ Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+.

⇢ Warnings; cursing, making out, dirty talk, Shouto is a champ at eating pussy/ass, fingering, vaginal sex, Shouto is a little subby in this

♡ Authors Note; I had to complete the headcannons for my favorite three MHA boys sooner rather than later. I love Shouto, he deserves all the good things and a lot of hugs.

Shouto who comes off as cold, uninterested, a giant dick — but who is so sweet and so loving it makes your teeth ache. Who is the kind of person that writes down facts about you so he doesn’t forget — you accidentally stumbled upon the list in his notes app and promptly cried.

Shouto who never ceases to buy extra of what he’s eating so you can have some too, even if you weren’t hungry in the first place.

Shouto who doesn’t understand social cues very well. Who tilts his head adorably when he’s confused. Who wears a blank, spaced out expression on his face often when he’s unsure of what’s going on.

Shouto who lets you teach him how to read the room a bit easier, to understand body language and tone. Whose pretty smile could melt icy glaciers with its tender warmth. Who is so comfortable with you he makes all sorts of facial expression, which you take as a triumphant win.

Shouto who you met in high school but didn’t date until after graduation. Who you crossed paths with while battling a villain and you caught mid air as he was nose diving from the top of a building. Who was probably a bit delirious because he swears he saw you with a halo, because he “fell in love with an Angel that day.”

Shouto who loves to drink strawberry milk. Who has so many cartons cluttering the fridge in your home it drives you nuts. Who compulsively brings you a glass when he’s drinking some because he’s learned he can show you he loves you by sharing what enjoys. It’s so cute when you get a glass out of nowhere.

Shouto who decides to be a bit “rebellious” after he gets out of high school. Who decides to cut his hair shaggy and short. Who gets a nose ring, pierces his ears and acquires a tongue ring. Who is with you when you get your own body modifications, and often wears jewelry that reminds him of you.

Shouto who claims his absolute favorite thing in the world is to snuggle up with you on the couch. Especially when it’s raining and the two of you are wrapped up in a fluffy blanket burrito, watching movies and napping. If it turns X rated, well who can blame you?

Shouto who is a dry texter. We’re talking Sahara Desert dry. Who does still take the time to send you pictures of things you love while he’s out on patrol, especially of dogs that he encounters. Who gets so happy when you respond in kind, forming your own language with one another.

Shouto who tends to wear a streetwear style when he’s not working. Who likes to wear matching clothes with you. Who even bought you both a pair of matching underwear with your faces on them. You’re unable to resist, you’re technically sitting on his face all day… right??

Shouto who is terrible at almost every video game, but who can annihilate anyone at Mario Kart. You’re definitely not bitter about that. Funnily enough, the best part of game night when everyone is over is watching Bakugou lose his mind when Sho decimates repeatedly.

Shouto who has remained tight knit with Midoriya. Who considers the man as his brother by extension, and who you’ve grown close to as well. Who goes to the #1 hero for help planning you a surprise party by sending Midoriya a series of increasingly concerning emojis until he agrees.

Shouto who loves to eat peach gummy rings. Who you have, on more than one occasion, woken up to eating the candy at 2:00 am. Who offers you one, which you casually eat and go back to bed. Who memorizes your favorite candy and leaves it for you to find everywhere.

Shouto who has told you the story of how he got his burn scar. About his father, his brother and all the horrors of his past. Who opened up to you, willingly sharing a side of himself others don’t get the privilege to see.

Shouto who has taken you to meet his family, to meet his mother. Who added you to the group chat with all his siblings, which is unbelievably entertaining. Who tries to fit his face with more than one expression when he meets your parents, but you make sure he knows he’s perfect for you just the way he is.

Shouto who loves you unconditionally. Who is your soul mate, your best friend. Whose love for you has grown bigger than a California Redwood tree. Who becomes your husband, who you love more than life itself. You’d start a goddamn war for this man.

Shouto who enjoys kissing. Who loves to lazily make out with you. Whose cock starts twitching in his briefs when the kiss turns messy. Whose lips get slick and puffy as they press together consistently with yours. Who eagerly slips his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it and sinking his teeth into your bottom lip so roughly it stings.

Shouto who likes to spread you out on your back in bed, stripping you until your only in one of his large T-shirts. Who leers at you when he pushes it up your belly, gently letting it catch on your tits until he can watch them fall and bounce. Who makes you keep the shirt up around your collarbone when he sucks on your nipples.

Shouto who bites the skin on your sternum, plush lips tickling your belly as he makes his way to your pussy. Who grips the bottoms of your thighs and presses them backwards to your chest. Who stares at you with heavy lidded eyes as he licks from your pussy to your clit, making sure to swirl the cold metal of his tongue ring around it.

Shouto whose eyes flutter closed while he eats you out. Who makes you cry out when he sucks your clit, tongue ring passing over it with each methodical swipe of his tongue. Who praises you murmuring “your pussy is amazing angel, will you let me eat your ass? pretty please?”

Shouto who strips you both. Whose flushed cock stands full and heavy when you see it. Who flips you, yanking your ass in the air and shoving your face into the sheets. Who spanks you unforgivingly and grips the thick flesh of your ass to spread you open. Who chills his tongue ring even more and kitten licks at your rim until you want to scream.

Shouto who shoves two fingers in your pussy without warning. Who curls and thrusts them as he sucks on your rim until you cum so hard you see stars. Who pulls away from you, stroking himself for relief and speaks with a wrecked voice pleading “I want to put my cock in you so badly, can I please princess?”

Shouto who is aware you’re a pillow princess, but has hearts in his eyes, cheeks flushing bubblegum pink when you tell him you’ll ride him for a bit. Who props his back up against the headboard with a couple pillows, allowing you to flip around so your back faces him. Who holds your wrists behind your back as you ride him, letting out delicate and whiny moans while you make his toes curl.

Shouto who spreads you with his free hand, eyes glued as his cock disappears into your pussy while you bounce in his lap. Whose dick throbs, breathing hitching when you throw your head back and you moan “fuck Shouto, your cock is so good, you’re gonna make me cum!”

Shouto who reaches his limit, pushing you off his cock and onto your back whispering filthy praise in your ear. Who grips his shaft, teasing your clit with the tip before slipping his dick all the way back inside with one fluid roll of his hips.

Shouto who bends you in half, hooking your knees over his shoulders and folding you into a mating press. Who fucks you roughly, hips curling up with the intention to bully your g-spot. Who makes sure you feel each drag of his cock, coaxing you into cumming with a handful of strokes. Who gets you to cum over and over, little water balloons of warm pleasure popping and coursing through you.

Shouto who produces low moans when your pussy squeezes his cock. Who desperately pleads with you to cum one more time because he can’t hold on for much longer.

Shouto who makes you feel dizzy as you chase your pleasure once more while folded as a pretzel. Who cums instantly when your sweet cries hit his ears, praising and encouraging him all at once. Who pushes into the hilt, grinding against you as he bursts at the seams, panting to catch his breath.

Shouto who giggles with you as he untangles your limbs. Who flops down beside you, lacing your fingers together as you enjoy the leftover bliss.

Shouto who eventually gets up to clean you both. Who finds the shirt you were previously wearing and some clean panties for you to wear. Who pulls you into a hug, murmuring how much he loves you, planting kisses all over your face. Shouto who then goes to the kitchen and brings you a glass of strawberry milk.

[catsoupki]

花的名字 / flower territory (bakugou x reader)

Summary: a flower has its cycles, it buds, it flourishes, blooms, and it dies, yet you’re still a constant in his life, he’s a sunflower that doesn’t look away

Warnings: improper capitalisation i’m afraid :( very very fluffy ! inspired by this wonderful post and this AMAZING one, both written by @cashmoneyyysstuff lmk if u want this taken down! (editing rn and i feel like flower territory is not the best title but im just so EMOTIONAL over it …. attachment issues fr)

wc: 700

the way katsuki crushes on you has stayed the same, since he was four he has made sure that everyone, including you, always knew that you were his.

he offers you roughed up flowers from the sandbox, covered in dust and dirt, shoved into your hands are the bundle of wild chrysanthemums and crumbled weeds, and in exchange are the paper rings you made before going to the park, because even when you were four, you already knew bakugou in the way you knew the names of the stuffed animals in your room; a sense of pride nestles inside, somewhere between your little childishly innocent heart and your soft fluttering stomach when you see your katsuki declare proudly with a smug smirk to all his groupies that he's now a married man, and that doesn't change.

in middle school, aged 12 bakugou isn't afraid to lean over your desk and stare you down and demand your time during recess, even though his cheeks used to redden when his female classmates would tease him for being such a romantic for you, he's learnt that it's either he toughens up and take this, or he has to deal with the other boys from his class chatting you up, and seeing their little cheeks tint with pink when they're spared even an ounce of (undeserved) attention from you is much more painful than having his own apples go fuzzy from your gaze.

katsuki changes a lot in U.A. but not in this. maybe the other class 1A kids don't have enough reference to notice, but izuku sure as hell can tell that the slight glisten and shine in his childhood best friend's eyes when he looks at you have only ever grown in brightness as you mature and age. as your body takes shape and your voice deepens, his affection for you simply gets magnified from a sheer adoration for your ability to keep up with him on the monkey bars and to withstand his loudness, either that be from the epicentres of his palms or the ever growing intensity of his voice when deku gets in his way, his respect for you grows and grows and festers and festers the more you win in the sports festival, the more you train, the more muscular you get, and the more internships you are offered.

as his own brashness gets dimmed down while the months go on, deku is no longer the only one who is able to notice the soft spot he has for you. jirou and shoji can only ignore the way bakugou whispers 'that's my girl' to you during class drills so many times, ochako and mina can only turn a blind eye to the way bakugou always cooks for you during the late nights where you collapse from exhaustion before eating so many times, by the end of the second year, even shouto knew to always find bakugou when you got hurt during missions and to just leave you two to your own devices for the rest of the evening.

the smirks might have grown less and less smug throughout the years and maybe more genuine, but the childlike wonder when katsuki looks at you stays always the same, it stays constant from when you were four all the way to when you're walking down the altar, it stays the same, from stepped-on flowers to bouquets of roses, from 'that's my girl' to 'that's my wife', you've always been his, the switch from craft paper to the 24 carat diamond ring on both your fingers never changed that; his face, to deku, looks identical; whenever dynamight is on a talk show and is asked to watch a clip of you fighting, the soft creases next to his eyes have always been there, bakugou's lips just twitch upwards when it's you;

what can he say? your katsuki has always been a prodigy, he knew since he was a kid, since the second his grabby little hands and tiny rolling eyes were laid on you, he has since decided that you were the only one worthy of his greatness, no matter how shitty his temper was at age 15, he looks at you like how sunflowers look at the sun, and that will never change.

[jaegerbby]

➳ persistence

--͙[katsuki bakugo x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 8244

╰┈➤ rundown; katsuki sees you through rose coloured glasses, you're his best friend after all. little does he know, you would do anything to have him.

╰┈➤ caution; alcohol consumption (legal drinking age is 18 in my country), bakugo cheats on his gf, possessiveness, jealousy, dry humping, choking, cunninglingus, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, belly bulge, size kink, virginity loss (mentions of blood), slight kaminari x yn, yn has small boobs.

not proof read !

katsuki has been yours forever.

well, he has been your best friend forever.

although, katsuki is oblivious to how near and dear you hold him to your heart and the things you would do to have him.

you were prone to running girls off even if it meant spewing some preposterous lie.

you would do it all if it meant being able to fawn over katsuki like he was more than your best friend.

you spend every moment that you can with him.

you thought he loved your company the same but katsuki tells you he lost his virginity and you realise he was seeking love elsewhere.

he smashes your heart into a million pieces with just a sentence.

you stick closer to him, you thought he would heal your broken heart although he was the reason for it.

but he does it again, he takes it and rips it apart because two months later, you find out katsuki has a girlfriend.

you try to break them up.

you really do. you make yourself an issue.

what girl is okay with their boyfriend constantly around his girl best friend. what girl would tolerate that?

katsuki's girlfriend.

you find that out the hard way.

you disrupt their plans but somehow she finds herself there.

you delete messages she sends and she blames it on the network. not katsuki! never him!

he misses countless calls when he is with you but she does not mind!

you drive yourself insane trying to get rid of her.

it seems like she is here to stay.

---

you are eighteen when alcohol is legal and a hot commodity.

when your friend group rents a beach house with the sole purpose of getting wasted.

you see katsuki as soon as you step into the hall. you smile, well almost.

"what the fuck are you wearing?" you furrow your brows at his irritated tone. you swear boys are suppose to like this.

"a bathing suit."

"your entire ass is out." he scowls.

"okay? who cares?"

they do care. they all have their eyes on you.

izuku swallows hard when you smile at him and shouto almost stops breathing when your hip brushes his. katsuki is stalking around the house like he wants to lay claim. like he is seconds away from pissing all over you.

it is on the tip of your tongue to tell him to worry about his girlfriend.

she comes downstairs a second later and is all over him. you are jealous. of course you are! he is letting her do all the things he should have given to you.

the alcohol is all you have to quell you over. when kaminari starts feeling you up, who are you to deny it? he is slurring words with his body flush to yours and katsuki seethes for the world to see.

"you're so pretty and your body." he whistles. you giggle in his face, your arms around his shoulders to press your breasts to his bare abdomen.

he is a good looking guy but he would never compare to katsuki. kaminari's hands trail lower, thumbing the fabric of your bathing suit.

you find katsuki whose jaw locks tighter the longer you are in kaminari's arms. whose knuckles have turned white from being wrapped in fists.

"i've wanted to fuck you for so long." he rasps, you can definitely feel his erection digging into your tummy.

you smile, your lips brushing his "then why haven't you?"

katsuki has had enough.

he yanks kaminari back by his hair and roughly shoves him into the wall. you wince.

"what the fuck, bakugo?" everyone though tipsy is alerted by the scene. katsuki is intimidating and as bad as you feel for kaminari you are stifling a grin behind your palms.

"do you want me to kill you?" katsuki nears him, smoke seems to blow out his nose like a raging bull.

"for what?" katsuki has only gotten bigger over the years, his abs flex as he breathes hard and his bicep swells when he reaches for kaminari.

you step in front of him and katsuki looks murderous as he glares at you.

"yn, move." you are all wide eyed and playing innocent.

"i won't let you hit him."

"you're choosing that dunce over me?" his brows tilt up. you do not say a word. "you let him touch you. you were asking him to fuck you."

it is exactly how you want it to go. his girlfriend furrows her brows. you do not know if it is the alcohol, anger or jealousy but katsuki does not care.

"katsuki." you hate the way his name sounds on her tongue.

"why do you care?" he tenses. she comes up to his side, pulling on his arm.

you want them to fight, you want to draw her to her breaking point and finally push her over the edge.

it should have happened years ago.

---

it is way into the morning, about 1:43 am. everyone is in the rooms, black out drunk and desperately needing to recuperate.

you are on your phone on the couch, still dressed in your bathing suit.

you sit up when katsuki walks down the stairs in a short sweatpants and a tshirt. his hair pushed back by a bando, one of yours he had taken years ago.

he settles right next to you, your feet pulled to your chest and facing him though he is staring at the blank screen of the tv.

"how'd you get her to quiet down?"

"there are men here and they think like men and you still wore that." really he wants to say, i'm a man. a filthy fucked up one that has longed to wreck the friendship between you.

his eyes meet yours looking at your features with so much softness before they lower to all the skin you have on display, your tits, your stomach, the scars and he knows the story for each one.

there are birthmarks he has never seen before, katsuki wants to know more, about you.

his eyes only grow darker, primal, everything in him wants you. he has for a long time.

you ignore his words "did you fuck her?" he scowls "i wouldn't fuck her and then come to you." you scoff.

katsuki's eyes trail to the curve of your cunt, barely covered by that scrap of fabric, the way you have your legs up only makes it more prominent.

"liar. over the last two years, you fucked her and now you're here." his eyes flicker to yours. you rest your phone on the cushion as you lean over to him, his tongue swiping over his lips when your bare ass comes into his view.

you straddle his lap, his legs spread and his bulge pressing into you immediately. his large hands find your hips, holding you as he thrusts up. his erection has you gasping. your hands find purchase in his fluffy blond hair.

you are still smaller than him, you have always been. your face nears his, you want to break down and cry.

"you're my best friend, suki, aren't you supposed to know my every want?" your hips grind into his, panting and mewling into his face, you have not done this before.

your cunt soaks through the thin fabric, it feels wet and slimy. your hips roll against him, why did his dick feel so good when it was not even inside you?

you do not want to stop, you want to do it all and now.

"i do."

"liar."

he thrusts up into your weeping slit and you whine as your body grows hotter. your eyes fixate on his, his hands grip your cheeks and they are so big you feel safe.

you feel like nothing can hurt you so long as he is around. you tilt your head to kiss the side of his palm.

"you want me to kiss you, you want me to touch you." he brings you close until your lips brush. he smells so good, he feels so good and right with you.

"you want me to fuck your little baby pussy that's rubbing on my cock so perfectly and make you mine." you nod your head, gripping onto him more. you have never heard him talk like that, never.

your head goes into a daze. "you want me, you've always wanted me."

"i know you." tears leak from your eyes and katsuki's lips part before he kisses you.

he kisses you and it far exceeds the countless times you dreamed about it. it feels more than fireworks and electricity, katsuki feels like love.

he feels like patience and understanding. katsuki kisses like you are all he needs and all he wants. he kisses with as much feeling as you have harboured for him in all your years of existence.

his lips languidly move along yours, thumb stroking your cheeks and keeping you close.

you practically melt into him more, your breasts flush to his chest, kissing him deeper as you hump his erection. he pulls away and you are breathless, his hands cupping the bare flesh of your ass to help you fuck yourself on him.

"tell me you didn't fuck some other guy." he winces, his forehead meeting yours.

hypocrite, selfish, unfair. that is what he is.

"i didn't." you concede, gripping his shoulders tighter.

"are you just... saying that cause i want to hear it?" you press your lips to his again and katsuki cups the back of your head to kiss you as deeply as he can. to sink his tongue in your mouth and claim it for himself.

your hands pull the strings on either side of your suit's bottoms, tugging it off before your cunt meets the fabric of his shorts and strands of slick coat it.

"fuck me. fuck me and you'll know."

he groans, reaching around you to untie your top.

"such a gorgeous girl." the praise is entirely unfamiliar, katsuki has never called you gorgeous.

"your pussy is so wet, baby. i can feel it already." his hands grope your breasts, tweaking at your nipples that sting with sensitivity. his hands trail over your sternum and squeeze the flesh of your hips.

they feel rough and calloused. like they have lived a life, one you have been there for every second of since he called your name.

your cunt soaks his shorts and leaves a wet patch on the grey fabric but you cannot stop humping him. not when it feels so good, not when your cunt is clenching and the friction is stimulating you.

"i can't wait to have this tight little hole stretched around me, can't wait to fuck you open and have you shaped to my cock. mine alone." his fingers thread through your hair.

"do it suki, please, please put it in." your naked body writhes against him, your hips rocking and stuttering,

you cannot help your moans or the way you are constantly biting on your lips. you are depraved and desperate but katsuki has ruined you from the moment you laid eyes on him.

tears trail down your cheeks from the overwhelming feeling between your legs, from the way he looks at and touches you.

"kat it's so big." you mewl, bowing your head and looking at the way your cunt rubs along him.

his rough fingertips find your clit and your jaw hangs as he rubs the bundle of stilted nerves. your face is in the crook of his neck, losing all composure.

"cunt's messy. i want you to cum for me." you whine, your hips grinding harder. hands knotted in his tshirt.

"are you close?" your thighs are locking up and your abdomen feels unbelievably tight, your pussy constantly clenches. "uh huh." his hand grips your throat to make you look at him. "i want to see it, i want to see your eyes roll back, your mouth water and how fucked out your face looks when your pussy is creaming."

your body bounces on his lap, lips parted as he presses your forehead to his. "suki, it feels good, you feel so good." a smile crosses his pretty face.

"yeah? getting yourself off on my cock feels good? nasty girl, you're rubbing your dripping little cunt on me and you're enjoying it." his mouth meets yours in a searing kiss. "i'm enjoying it too, no one compares to you, no one is as pretty or as perfect as you." he whispers, like the only one that matters is you.

your body halts, jerking still on his lap because he is stroking your clit like he has known your body forever. like this is all familiar.

your fingers wrap around his wrist and katsuki grips your throat a bit tighter. just as he expected, just like his daydreams, only ten times better, your eyes roll, drool drips from your pretty mouth and you are the most stunning when your body is overcome by an orgasm.

the first one he has seen from you. "that's it, fuck, baby, doing so well." you whine at the praise, his words itch a part of your brain you never knew about.

your cunt creaming and soaking his pants, there is a wet patch and a sticky mess between your legs. you want to be filled so badly.

you do not think you can function if he does not. you are panting before he releases your throat and you slump into his strong body. he pushes back your hair and holds you close to him, you are all sweaty and his body temperature only makes you hotter.

his hands rub and caress all over you, his chin on your head before he wraps you in a tight hug. "i need to see you like that again, look so fucking pretty." you swallow hard, that sounds so much like a promise for the future. one with you and him.

he kisses your forehead "do you want to have sex?"

you perk up, bobbing your head. "of course i want to."

you are surprised when he brushes your cheek and his expression is saddened.

"this isn't the only time, you know that?" you slowly nod your head. "if you want to wait, i will. we can take things slow."

katsuki, katsuki, katsuki, how could you ever want anyone else.

"i waited long enough. i really want you to fuck me, ki." his eyes grow hooded. he presses a soft peck to your lips before he shifts you off his lap.

he removes his tshirt to reveal full pecs, toned abs, and a deep v line. all things you have seen before. all things you have day dreamed about but you have never seen him right before he would fuck you.

you have never looked at him knowing he would be in your body.

katsuki's skin ripples in defined muscles, any where you look you would see it. his eyes meet yours and your bread hitches. a smile crossing his features softly. his arms rest on either side of your body, gaze flicking to your messy cunt as he leans closer.

his mouth presses to yours in a soft gentle kiss and you find yourself following him when he pulls away. his nose nuzzles yours. "let's go upstairs, i'll get a condom."

you tense. here you are stripped bare, for him to see, for him to touch and have and own the way you have always wanted.

she is upstairs, in his room while you are on the living room couch waiting to be fucked.

you cannot find it in yourself to care.

"what are you thinking about?" his forehead meets yours. his eyes are so red, so red that you want them to draw you in and never let you go. you want them forever, you want him.

"do you use condoms with her?" his brows draw together, he does not want to talk about her but he will answer every question you have.

"always." no hesitation, no dishonesty.

you are immature, especially when it comes to him. "i'm different to you. i'm not like her. right kat?"

katsuki wants to wrap you up in his arms and keep you from the world. he wants to keep you to himself. he should have done it from the start.

kat, ki, suki, they are all his, they are all yours and that is one of the many ways that shows how different you are.

he breathes a heavy breath "you're everything." your hands cup either side of his nape.

"then show me. you shouldn't want something between us." not when it’s me.

katsuki regrets that those words even came out of his mouth. his eyes flick over your features before his large palm is pressing on your chest. you lie back under the weight of his searing touch, under the weight of his heavy gaze.

his lips leave wet kisses to your cheek before he drifts lower. you whine when his tongue laves over your perked nipple. all hot and sticky with saliva. the rough pad of his thumb rolls the darkened flesh before he takes it back into his mouth and circles the bud with his tongue.

your legs jolt, although your bare skin meets katsuki's body. katsuki who is above you completely with his body between your legs. he is so close you cannot think, you can hardly breathe.

"when we were younger." he trails off, leaning closer to press his stiff bulge against your messy cunt. your fingers curl into your palms.

"i used to wonder how big these would get." his hands grope your chest, your breast that have not changed much, have not grown much.

"but i like them this way. so much." his hands are so big, they only make the mounds of flesh look smaller. as he touches and squeezes. as he flusters you.

"why?" your voice seems ten times harder to get out. his mouth covers yours, pressing deep and your eyes tightly close. you whine when he pulls back

"cause it gets me so fucking hard." his voice is rough, you want to hear it that way forever. your hips tilt up to press against him more, where his pants are already soaked with your cum.

katsuki groans before his mouth meets your stomach and he trails kisses down the soft flesh. the closer he gets to the dripping slit between your legs the more you tense.

"kat, wait." your hand reaches for his hair but your fingers keen into themselves when his tongue trails over your stiff clit. your back arches, lips parting.

"why should i? i waited long enough." you said the same and here katsuki is with his mouth over your cunt and amusement all over his face. you cannot look at him.

"it's weird!" his breath hits your soaking mess as he lightly laughs. your legs lift and your toes curl when his heated tongue glides through your opening in a languid stroke.

"tell me how weird it is that my mouth is on your pretty little pussy, that i'm finally getting to taste how sweet you are." your hands rest on your lips and you swallow hard.

katsuki leans in to lap at the cum and the slick that seems never ending. you can hardly keep your eyes open yet you look at him.

with his hooded eyes and you in his mouth. his fingers reach between your legs to pull your lips apart. to spread open your slit and your body jerks when he spits a thick ball of heady saliva into you.

the tip of his tongue glides through the mess before you feel it dipping inside you. your eyes widen and your entire body squirms. your hips rocking, you are not sure if you want to pull away or press more into him.

his strong hands hold your legs open and then he is shoving into you, until your eyes roll and his nose is nuzzled to your clit. your cunt squelches at the intrusion, gummy sticky walls pushed apart.

your fingers dig into the broadness of his shoulders "suki." you cry his name, it is so strange. to have something so foreign inside. to have someone's mouth much less their tongue there.

you are not quite prepared for him to move the wriggling muscle. no nothing could prepare you for the feeling of a tongue squirming inside your cunt and stroking your walls.

katsuki is fucking you with his tongue.

your hips jerk, and tears leak down your face without you realising. your hands tangle in his hair and all he does is press deeper and move faster.

your eyes meet his and you moan so disgustingly loud. his eyes are dark and they look mean. you can feel him everywhere. the muscles in your legs pulsate, he is sucking on you, he is eating you up and you grip his hair so tight because there are no coherent thoughts in your head.

the sounds fuck with you the most, the sounds are sloppy and sticky. the longer you hear it the more your brain turns to mush.

he will not stop, he will not give you a moment to breathe not as you moan and cry, not as you tug his hair or dig your nails into his scalp.

your cunt continuously clenches around the invasive muscle. your stomach feels unbelievably tight, "you're so gross." yet your hips are rocking, yet you are enjoying it. katsuki's tongue moves rougher and your eyes roll back so hard you are disoriented.

"ki, seriously! i'm gonna cum." your voice is watery and jumbled. you think he will stop, isn't he supposed to? but katsuki does not. no, not until you cream in his mouth and all over his face. your body jerks and tenses, you swear you are drooling and there are tears in your eyes.

you are already a mess, when his tongue slips out of your soaked hole you grit your teeth. your entire being is still stuttering with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

katsuki has liquid down his jaw and lips, some is even in his hair. he lies on top of you, his face close and his cock on your sensitive cunt. he is heavy, all you can feel is hard muscle and his skin as bare as yours.

"you taste like heaven, got the sweetest little pussy." he swipes at your tears and your legs fold on either side of him. "you're gross." he cocks his eyebrow "cause i want to eat your dripping cunt forever? or cause i want to drink up all the cum that comes out of it? which one makes me gross?"

you squeeze your eyes, it makes your heart feel all weird and your cunt throb. you wonder if he can feel it. if he can feel how hard you are pulsating all over.

"open those pretty eyes." his fingers grip your jaw and you whine. you are so flustered, you are so disoriented. katsuki spins you tight and messes up your head.

"all of it, katsu." you are a whimpering mess. you cannot think properly. not when you are naked, not when he is plastered to your skin. you want him inside of you. you want to know what it feels like so badly.

"katsu." he rolls the name around his tongue. you have not called him that in years. you have not called him that since you were kids.

he wonders what you then would say if she saw you now, if she knew how you would be. if she would be as angry as you are because he had been with someone else.

"take it off." you mutter, your hand cupping the hardness of his bulge. it is borderline painful. he has been hard since he sat next to you.

he swallows, sitting up to shove the restrictive material down. your body shifts on the couch as you see his length. long thick, the head a mixture of pink and brown. you have never seen one before.

his balls look heavy, you cannot help but wonder what they would feel like. in your hand, in your mouth. his fingers run across the short blonde pubic hair before he grips the base and squeezes, pre cum leaks from the tip.

he is quick to collect it and stroke it over the bluish veins along his shaft. his eyes meet yours, he looks at your expression. why do you look so in awe?

his defined muscles flex as he comes over you again. he crowds you into the corner of the couch, like he wants to keep you only for himself. only for his eyes.

your legs hook on his hips, his cock pressing into the flesh of your abdomen. he is so close, he is so close to being inside.

"how's it going to fit, ki?" you puff and the groan he lets out is bordering a loss of self control. he hesitates, will it fit? will all of this really fit in your tight little hole? where would it end in your body?

"we'll make it fit, right? tell me you'll make it fit, katsu." there it is again and he is losing his mind. what did you get out of calling him that besides ruining his head? he is already obsessed with you, did you want to make him psychotic too?

you are stripped naked with your cunt an inch away from his length practically begging him to stuff you so full you will ache. katsuki has lost it.

he tries to crack a smile but it is shaky, his thick fingers stroke between your slit and you sigh.

"yeah." it is so unsure, his voice cracks "we'll make it fit, i'll get it all in this cunt." his digits press into your walls, pushing passed the swollen flesh that seems to resist.

the gummy blood filled walls that make you so unbelievably tight. you gasp at the intrusion.

"just have to get this tight hole to loosen up." that seems easier said than done. why are you so tight? why do your walls grip him so viciously and hold him so close?

"fuck, baby. how am i supposed to stretch you out when you're so little?" his mouth meets yours, while his fingers slowly slip in and out of you.

he called you baby.

his mouth coaxes over yours, his lips gliding along yours like he was made for you.

your hips rock as he plunges his digits to his knuckles. everything he does feels good. he could look at you and you would still be this much of a mess.

your hand wraps around his length and katsuki's muscles flex. they flex and ripple, you wish you could see the way every single one contorts.

he grits his teeth, forehead rolling over yours, his jaw clenching before it hangs. he is so beautiful. his eyes lock on where you hold him. where the softness is so mind blowing, where your finger tips do not touch. where you are stroking his reddened cock the way he imagined.

it felt better, your slow, inexperienced strokes feel so much fucking better.

his fingers slam into you, palm grinding into your clit as he quickens his pace. your pussy sputters and wetness coats his digits. some splattering under the force of his movements.

your mouth drops in a moan, all breathy and pretty. "fucking pussy is in love with me. dripping all over, for me. such a loud nasty little cunt. who's it for?" your hand tightens around his base and drags along the length, enough to make him pant.

"you, katsu. it's yours, always been yours." your hips grind and fuck against him, legs spreading wider on instinct. you are so inviting. you are so perfect.

your eyes are barely staying open, your hand jerks his length. there is sweat on your skin. your chest heaving. he pulls his hand from your messy cunt, sticky strands connecting him to you before he collects the pre cum from his tip and presses it to your mouth.

your mouth opens to lap and suck and clean the liquid from his digits. your little hand growing more vigorous in your strokes, it only makes katsuki hump into the space between your fingers. "i want to fill you all over, i want to fuck you everywhere. this baby mouth, this vice pussy and this teasing little ass. i want to stuff your belly and holes with my cum. i want to cover you in it."

he is so nasty, he shoves into your mouth until you gag, until spit pools in your mouth and you drink it all down again. he cups your cheek and presses the sweetest kiss to your mouth, a soft wet smack filling the empty room.

katsuki is perfection incarnate.

he sits up on his knees, your hand slipping from his length as he grips your hips and pulls you lower. your legs spread and his cock resting on your abdomen.

his large hand spans out pressing his length against your flesh as he trails to the head. pre cum pools from the slit and katsuki's eyebrows bind together so tight. his jaw locks and his red eyes have gone black.

he is sizing you up. he is trying to figure out where exactly his cock is going to reach in you. you are breathless, you are a mess. katsuki has always been bigger than you.

he is lean muscle but they bulge so wide they make themselves present. he is all hard defined rivets in the planes of his skin.

"are you sure you want to do it?" his eyes lock with yours. why would he ask that like you would not say yes a million times?

"i am. i've never been more sure of something." i've never been more sure it's you. katsuki will always be the one. always.

"i want to have sex with you, i want you inside of me." he swallows hard. then his face relaxes, he looks so soft.

"tell me if it hurts. i'll stop if you want me to." he reaches down, leaning more over you as he strokes his length. his stiff cock bobs before his head is mushed into the sticky flesh of your pussy.

you gasp, looking at him breach your entrance. your slit slowly being pulled apart. katsuki was relaxed, he was but now his heart is beating out of his chest.

he has never had raw sex before. he has never been inside without a condom. you feel better than anything, even with a condom he is sure you would be better. you are better.

your pussy is warm and wet, so unbelievably wet. he does not know if your gummy walls are sucking on him or sucking him in, he thinks it might be both. he pushes in until the swollen flesh of his head is surrounded by your sticky hole.

you both let out laboured breaths. katsuki is inside you, he is inside of you and he cannot think. he wants to burn this moment into his brain and eye lids. he wants to think about this forever.

you feel so tight, warm and wet that katsuki feels like he will cum. he will cum and fill you up and he will want to do it again and again.

"how are you this good?" he grits his teeth. "your pussy keeps holding me, so tightly. how am i supposed to fuck you if you won't let me move?" he covers you, his face in front of yours, one hand cupping your throat and the other stroking your waist.

"rub your little clit for me and loosen up. you want my cock in you, right? you want me to fuck your cunt, don't you?" you whine, your hand reaching between your soft skin and his muscular flesh.

finding the stilted bundle of nerves and roughly rolling it. you cannot think, you cannot think at all. katsuki is inside of you and you are looking into his eyes.

how can you function?

"katsu, i want it so bad. i want you to fuck me so bad." your cunt gushes around him. you soak him again and again.

"yeah, want my cock to spread you open and fill up this pussy." he shoves in an inch more and you swear it sucks the life out of you.

"put it all in, please. i don't care if it hurts." he pants into your face, easing in more and more of his heady length. it feels like it goes on forever.

tears stream down your cheeks and your hand grips the back of his nape.

"such a good girl, pretty girl. you're doing so well." you whine, you want to cry and scream for him.

you are insanely tight and you are insanely hot.

you wrap around him and guzzle, you squeeze and you slurp him up.

katsuki cannot fuck you with a condom. he could never do it after feeling you like this.

"how much more is there, katsu?" your voice is as teary as your eyes. he brings your hand away from your clit to hold his nape. both of your hands intertwining before they lace in the spiky blonde strands near the base of his neck.

"a little more. breathe for me." and you do, you do as he anchors his hands on your hips. he slams into you so hard your cunt squelches, so hard your back arches off the couch and your voice pitches up into a broken cry of his name.

it is more than a little, you feel so stretched out, so pulled wide and filled to the brin. tears leak down your face

"it feels like." you trail off with dazed eyes "you're in my guts. no, my throat." katsuki pants above you

"i am." his voice is warbled. when you stare up at him in confusion, you follow where his gaze is locked. your entire body vibrates, there is a bulge in your stomach, there is a bulge where his cock is seated deep inside you.

your pussy tightens up around him so suddenly that katsuki hisses. "it's so deep, katsu." your head drops back onto the cushion, your legs hooking around his hips. his pelvis is flush to yours, he is buried inside you. he pulled you apart to shove himself inside.

you grip him so perfectly that katsuki feels like he will faint. he feels like he is blacking out.

"can you move?" you whine.

katsuki does not think he can.

he might just cum inside you this very moment.

he nods, leaning back to hold your legs open by the back of your knees. you lift yourself onto your elbows, both of you watching as he pulls out to just beneath his head, sticky strands of your slick covering his length and dripping from it before he slams straight to the base.

the bulge in your stomach appears again. you moan so loud, katsuki wants to hear it again and again.

you both watch him enter and exit you, watch him pound his heady cock into your walls. it feels so good your head is a mess.

he only fucks into you a few times, only makes a good few strokes before he stops.

"fuck you're bleeding. does it hurt?" his eyes are so filled with concern whilst yours only have lust.

you shake your head, "don't stop, katsu, don't stop."

your legs tighten around him, practically urging him to keep slamming the thickness of his cock inside of you.

"baby." he mutters unsurely, his fingers pressing into your skin.

"you got your answer, please keep fucking me. it feels so good." your head drops to the cushion as you grope your breasts. your nipples have never been this sensitive before. you want his mouth on them again. you tweak the buds as the gears turn in katsuki's head.

"you were a virgin." he breathes, you roll your hips. why won't he fuck you?

"fuck me, suki. harder." you whine and you jolt when he covers you. when your legs are pressed tight to your chest and his hand grips your throat. he presses down on the sides and when he really does fuck you, his thrusts are brutal and deep. he puts all of his weight into it as he fucks your pussy.

"does it feel that good, you want me pounding my cock into your freshly opened pussy?" you mewl, nails finding purchase in his back as you leave scratches down the ripples of muscle.

"you let me stretch out and pull apart your virgin cunt. you're bleeding all over my cock. that means you're mine." you nod, you bob your head with no hesitation.

"m'yours, yours." you babble as his cock is thrust into your walls. brushing your cervix and making you see stars. he slams so hard into you that there are wet smacking noises between your sexes. there are hard lashes of skin on skin.

his fingers hold your throat, you are so little under him he feels like he will crush it if he is not careful. your thighs tremble and your body jerks.

he is so heavy and he is so big and the way he feels sends your head into overdrive.

you are a spiralling mess. he huffs in your face, readjusting and you did not think he could go harder but he does.

he does and you shriek.

drool drips down your jaw and your eyes roll. you never thought it would feel that good.

you never really considered that a cock would warm you from the inside out.

katsuki's tongue laves over your tears and the whimper you let out drives him insane.

he is past the point of return.

every vein, ridge and bump on his cock is stroked by you. your cunt tries so hard to clamp down and keep him in until you have memorised them all, until you have taken his shape.

"why'd you keep this from me? all these years we could've been." he groans at the thought "we could've been fucking, i could've had you and this pussy from the start."

your legs tremble, barely perched on either side of his hips. your nails digging further in his skin to find your bearings. katsuki's hands are on you, he is in you. it feels like something out of a dream.

"i didn't keep it from you, i kept it for you." your words are forced out and broken, you can hardly speak with the constant pressure in your body.

"i used to think about you, about what i would do if you ever let me. i used to jerk off to you, all the fucking time." he grits his teeth, strokes growing more forceful, they hit deeper than before. they hit and caress every single spot inside you. "i rubbed my dick raw because i wanted you. why didn't you just tell me, baby? i would've given you it all. i'm giving you it all."

your fingers wrap around his wrist, he is so big. he is so big all over it makes you delirious. you are practically tugging his forearm closer to your chest.

"m'sorry, katsu." your eyes meet and katsuki breathes hard.

you look ditzy, you look downright brainless. he has never seen you like this, spit slicked lips, drooling and crying. getting filled with cock and becoming a fucked out mess.

this is his, this is his because no one else has seen it.

how can katsuki stay mad at you? how can he punish you for the past when you are giving him this?

he throbs inside you, he cannot seem to stop fucking you, he wants to do it forever. he wants to be wrapped up in the oasis between your pretty plush thighs forever.

you reach for his jaw, trembling fingers gracing the sharp perimeter. you want him close. you wonder how much closer you can get him than buried inside your cunt, than him prodding your cervix. than him nestled in your heart for years. you want him closer than that. he draws nearer, his nose nuzzling yours before soft pink lips meet yours.

"you're too good for me." you whine, his brows tilt up and he looks so pained. "but i can't handle seeing you with someone else." you shake your head.

oh never never never.

you have never wanted someone else.

you never will.

no one could ever compare to katsuki.

"i'm yours, only yours." you cry.

"yeah? you're mine, you'll always be mine and i'm yours." there is not an ounce of air in your body because he took it all. the shift of his hips is slow, it is slow and intentional.

he is yours. katsuki is yours. just as he is meant to be.

"promise?" you sound like the most precious thing ever.

you are. that is what you are.

"i swear, baby." your legs are jelly, they have lost all feeling. they shaking every time his thighs hit the back of yours. you cannot even stop them from spasming every once in a while. katsuki fucks hard, he gets deep and messes up everything.

he gets so deep your head is empty but so full. so full of him and the feeling. you feel everything ten times more.

your back arches "katsu, please." he hums, his hand rubs your little throat before he squeezes again. your jaw hangs. he is nasty. so nasty.

"what do you want?" his voice is baritone and love. his voice is what you want to hear the second you wake up and the minute before you fall asleep.

"you, just want you." you should not have said that, that seems to send katsuki far beyond a point he was trying so hard to avoid. the way he slams into you now is brutal, you feel the way your cunt clenches when he pulls out and the way he stretches you open all over again.

the bulge in your stomach is constantly reappearing. liquid drips from your slit down your ass and his balls. it splatters from your nasty union to the couch, to your skin and his. it froths up around his base until the blonde of his pubic hair is soaked. you bind him so tight in slick gummy walls, he does not think he will ever get this out of his head.

no he will remember this when he is at school, when he is supposed to be listening to lectures he will be hearing your messy cunt instead. he will hear the sopping noises your cunt makes when she is getting pounded.

when he is working out he will want you under him. katsuki will not be able to keep his hands off you after this.

he curses, fingers biting into your skin, he is over you completely. his forehead presses down on yours. he is gripping you so hard you swear it will bruise.

his finger marks will be on your skin and every one will know katsuki fucked you.

"ease up before i cum in you." katsuki's abs tense, they tighten up so much they hurt.

you puff into his face "you don't you want to?" cause you want him to. you want his seed spilled deep inside of you. you want your cunt creamed by him. you squeeze him so suddenly katsuki grunts.

"of course i fucking want to." his eyes narrow, sweat drips down his hairline. you did not realise how much he was sweating until his sticky skin glistens.

"i want to cum so deep in your pussy you'll never forget it. i want to fill you up and make you keep it in." his hips stutter and his movements grow sloppy. he is so close.

"then do it katsu, i need it. i need your cum." he whimpers. you have certainly never heard him like that before.

"you need it?" his voice is soft and the second you nod he sees white. his arms wrap around your waist to press you flush to him. his head drops to your chest and your hands stroke his hair as he pumps his hips.

deliberately and forceful.

you feel the weight of it more so. he groans into your chest, eyes tightly shut before his pelvis meets yours with no space between. where he is buried to the hilt.

his muscles spasm and your eyes roll when you feel his cock throb and vapid spurts are shot into you.

you feel like he paints your insides and it is so hot you are shaking. you can see the way his back ripples as he cums, the way he breathes heavy and feel his arms bulge as he holds you close.

you can make out reddened ears and blushing cheeks. your fingers thread through his hair, leaning into to press your nose to the crown of his head where blonde tuffs stick into the air.

his hips shallowly rock, pumping your pussy full of his seed and you tense as it leaks past the perimeter of his cock down your slit.

he shakily breathes before he wetly kisses up your sternum. you think all the air leaves your lungs when he kisses your lips.

"i love you."

you flinch when you hear it. there is absolutely no way he said that.

"you're just saying that cause you fucked me" you avoid him or you try to. it is hard to avoid a man that has his cock inside of you.

"no. i love you, i love you more than you know. and i'm sorry i fucked up. i'm sorry i took so long to say it." he tries to pacify you but you are stubborn.

you think you just might cry.

"can you take it out?" katsuki's face contorts but you have no clue what his expression means. he slowly straightens up, his hands cupping beneath your knees.

when he pulls out, his cum leaks from you. you wince from the feeling but katsuki loves the sight. he thinks filling you with his cum is the greatest thing he has ever done.

he regrets not doing it sooner.

you reach for his shirt once he is off of you. you tug the material over your body, you cannot help but lift it to your nose and inhale his scent. katsuki should have been yours. he was always meant to be yours so why did he find you so late when you were there all along?

katsuki smells like all the years and memories you shared with him. katsuki smells like love and comfort.

he notices you nuzzling his shirt and he swears there is nothing as precious as you. he pulls his shorts up.

you stand slowly, gritting your teeth. "it's dripping." katsuki needs you to be quiet before he gets hard again.

he needs you to be quiet before he makes you spread your legs so he can get his mouth on your cunt again. so he can drink all the cum he filled your pussy with and stuff you full with more.

he reaches for your hand, softly stroking it with his thumb. "c'mon."

"where?" you remain still despite him trying to pull you along with him.

"to my room."

katsuki feels his heart drop when you yank your hand away.

"your stupid girlfriend is up there." you roll of your eyes. katsuki was just inside you, he came inside you. all the remnants are leaking down your thighs and you are acting like that?

his brows knit in frustration and although you like to act as though katsuki can never move you, truth is, he can. he grips your wrist and pulls you up the stairs with no issue.

even as you protest. you try to argue as quietly as possible because the last thing you want is to alert everyone in the house.

"katsuki, are you crazy?" he shoves open the door and once you are inside he locks it.

"katsuki?" he stares at you incredulously, "what happened to katsu? what happened between then and now for you to act like this?"

and you are crying, you look so miserable. he thinks you look too cute for your own good but he wants to curb your tears instantly.

"she's still your girlfriend." you brokenly say.

"i broke up with her. i wouldn't do that to you, i wouldn't sleep with you while i was with someone else. we had sex because i'm yours okay? i always have been."

katsuki aches to pull you close, to wipe your tears.

"she's leaving in the morning. it's just you and me. it should've been like that from the start." he cannot take it anymore, he pulls you into his chest. you who fits into him so perfectly, you were made for him and him for you. he sees that now.

"i know i don't deserve it, i don't deserve you but can you say i love you?"

you brokenly sob, "i love you, i love you. i love you, katsu. love you so much." you cry like those words were waiting for an opportunity to escape. to finally be in the world.

katsuki is yours, just like you wanted.

can you tell i love him sm sm

[quitesins]

Deku’s Type!

Masterlist

Tags: 18+, Sfw-ish, short drabble, fem!reader, aged up! characters, teacher! Deku, kinda vulgar and fucky, im gonna tag misogyny, reader is said to be “fucked in the head” whatever you want that to mean ^0^!

The boys gather round for drinks and discuss the type of women Deku seems to be fond of, much to his dismay…

“Sounds like Deku’s type,” Katsuki says, smirk in his voice.

Izuku frowns. “I do not have a type.”

Now that makes the table still for a second, not long enough for Izuku to predict the thoughts of his friends, but enough for the rest of the guys to come to the same conclusion.

Katsuki, Denki and Sero are the first to burst out in laughter. Katsuki’s cackle the loudest of them all.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Katsuki laughs so hard he doesn’t even care that Denki is half laid over him, “You don’t see that shit?”

“Come on…” Denki says, still slapping Katsuki’s thigh as he laughs, “you have such a type!”

Izuku frowns, sterner, deciding to ignore the immature three and turning to his other friends for support. Both Iida and Shouto look away, their expressions telling.

“I do not have a type,” Izuku reiterates, firmly.

Katsuki shakes his head, finally shoving Denki off him. “All those girls you’ve dated? Exact fuckin’ same.”

Even Tokoyami turns his head, eyes never leaving his drink but a twinkle of unfamiliar mirth evident within them.

“What does that even mean?!” Izuku exasperates, looking around for a single ally.

“It means,” Mineta chimes in, and although Izuku enjoys his company, he already knows he’s about to hear something deplorable, “you like them sick in the head!”

Shouto can’t hold in his sputter, finally contributing to the conversation— with a laugh. The rest of the table is hooting, a few groans at the wording but nothing at the sentiment. All while Izuku looks absolutely scandalised, clutching his chest, eyes wide open.

“That’s horrible!” Izuku cries, so stunned he can’t even trail off into one of his signature rambles in defence, “that’s- that’s. What?!”

“All the girls you’ve liked man…” Sero starts, “they’re not exactly little miss sunshines are they.” He stops, which Izuku almost takes reprieve in until he continues, “you seem to like them a little off putting.”

“Yeah so he can fucking fix them,” Katsuki snorts.

“It’s your saviour complex,” Denki adds, chin tilted up, trying to look profound.

Izuku is quick to interject, waving his hands around. “You’re the pro heroes.” The poor boy tries his best to convince. “We all have saviour complexes!”

“Not like you do, mon chéri,” Aoyama tuts, then winks before saying, “Hero of Japan.”

“Izuku, They do still call you an honorary pro.” Shouto is trying to be nice, Izuku thinks. “And I’m sure your students think the same.”

Izuku grimaces, he knows he’s always had a complex that encompassed so much more than just his dreams to be a hero, but he doesn’t need it sullied by… that.

“Don’t ruminate.” Katsuki presses a drink into Izuku’s hands. “You like women a little fucked up, so what.”

Katsuki’s words do nothing to comfort Izuku, instead it has Denki and Mineta laughing all over again while Kirishima attempts to calm them down. Iida scolds Katsuki a little, doing a half bow in apology to the passing waiter clearly peeved by all the noise. Deku pays no attention, beginning to spiral in his head.

It feels wrong to view you that way. To view the women he’s loved that way. But he’s not an idiot, maybe a little blind at times but now that the proof is there— oh god—

“Listen, Midoriya, I am sure there are many reasons you have loved the women you have.” Iida notices the growing dread upon Izuku’s face. “You also like to save people. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Tokoyami and Shouji nod in agreement, Ojiro giving his own sympathetic smile.

“Yeah bro.” Kirishima raises a fist in camaraderie, though it’s definitely out of pity. “It’s manly to want to care for others.”

“Think he more than cares for ‘em,” Katsuki slickly adds, in an artful voice that Izuku is more than familiar with, “the fucker get off on that shit.”

This time, it’s Shouto who scolds him, Katsuki’s implications clear enough for even him to catch on. They rest of the guys begin to bicker in the background, one half in defence of Izuku’s less than innocent tastes in women, the other intent on making fun of the golden boy for once.

Though the attention is finally off him, it does not help Izuku feel any better.

Because there’s a thought that lingers… it’s a sick thought, a terrible, horrible, awfully honest thought.

Shit, he does like them a bit fucked up.

My truth is i still don’t know how to punctuate dialogue… pleek don’t look and none of dat…

Anyways I kind of wanna elaborate on Deku’s hero complex coming out in other ways in the 8 years of studying and becoming a teacher, like someone has to deal with it…